#their support really helped me get through it but one of the last lines reminds me of something

[kuririhimitsukichi]

Keroro Movie 4 Deleted Scene: Shion's Prologue

Back in spring 2009, the Keroro movie was about to release in theaters, which left the fandom outside of Japan, myself included, to wait for the DVD release before we could see it. However, at this point I had been learning Japanese for a good few years and decided to import the book through a specialty shop I sometimes went to so I could try reading it.

However, when the DVDs finally released and I got to see the movie itself, I noticed two scenes I had read in the book were missing, one of which was particularly surprising since I had seen fully animated footage from it in the previews that were edited into the opening credits.

I don't remember if there were other deleted scenes, perhaps I'll do a full translation of the book someday (yes, it's the story of the movie, but there's some nice flourishes), I'm not sure where my copy is, but the preview for the e-book version includes both scenes.

This scene in particular takes on an interesting tone when you consider that Shion means "Aster"; both that her nickname is flower related (possibly because of her friendship with Momoka), and that this specific flower signifies regret at how things turned out, but also means grace & wisdom.

For now enjoy the first of the two deleted scenes below the cut, this one was right at the very beginning of the film:

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

One year ago. On the outskirts of Paris.

Beneath the lead coloured, overcast sky, church bells chimed and echoed sadly. The time for partings had come.

It was a lavish funeral for the Dracoon family, a noble and ancient, ancient European bloodline. The gathered crowd of attendees spoke in hushed tones about the remaining family.

Ultimately, they were idly gossiping.

Things like "The Dracoon family fortune will go to her, can she manage it?" or "What can she do as just one person?" or "Even though she lost her parents, she doesn't shed a single tear, such a cold girl" Amongst this group, there wasn't a single person you could let your guard down in front of.

The remaining family....

Standing before her parents' gravestones was a young girl, only about 10 years of age. She had been left alone as her parents journeyed to heaven. Lead by the hand of her brawny butler, the girl placed flowers on her mother and father's caskets. The girl kept her lips pressed in a firm line as she looked forward.

While she felt like a gaping hole was opening in her heart, she kept up a brave front, despite seeming as if she could crumble at any moment.

"Lady Felicitashion" Her butler, having read her feelings, leaned in and whispered "It is acceptable to cry during sad times".

"No Pierre. I must not cry, for I am the head of the Dracoon family"

Even if she felt alone, she would not cry. No matter how lonely she was. Even if she she felt unbearably lonely. Even if because of that she became unable to smile.

This loneliness was....

The loneliness of being completely isolated, because nobody could understand how you felt. If she could forget it all, how nice it would be....

And so, our tale begins with the always unchanging everyday life in the Hinata household.

[reidrum]

castling | s.r.

A/N: another deeply self indulgent hurt comfort angst who’s surprised…i wrote this kinda fast so if it’s messy and cheesy sorry :/

cw: gn!reader (pls lmk if i missed something that doesn’t make it gn), hurt comfort, mentions of depression, ambiguous sadness, trivialization of chess, inaccurate chess jargon?, spencer is a darling

summary: in which reader finds it hard to open up and communicate their feelings with spencer, so he comes up with an idea to help

wc: 1.4k

not proofread sry

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! <3

_______________________________________________

It started during a game of chess, when Spencer was showing you different special moves.

“It’s called castling, the idea is that you move the king two spaces towards the rook and then switch their places to allow more protection for your king than if it was in the center.”

“Why would you want to move the king towards the outside, that seems counterintuitive.”

“Smart girl, that’s a good question,” he says fondly, “It’s kind of a last ditch effort in a sense, the rook is essentially expendable but the castling moves the king out of the line from key pieces like the other king and queen.”

“So, it’s like a rescue mission.”

He smiles, “Like a rescue mission.”

You smile back and continue with your next move. Spencer watches you in earnest as you deliberate the best plan of attack, even though he knows he’s gonna let you win by the end anyway.

“How was your day today?” He watches your demeanor change quickly, your shoulders sagging slightly and your eyebrows furrowing. He knew the answer, he’s a great observant and even more so when it comes to you.

“It was…fine.”

“Just fine?” he challenges, moving his bishop.

You nod and move your knight. You’re waiting for him to move his next piece when you realize he’s not looking at the board anymore.

Looking up you see hazel eyes staring right back at you, “Sweetheart,”

“Spencer, don’t.”

He sighs, “You know,” he moves his pawn, “this isn't the first time that you’ve had a hard time communicating with me how you feel.”

A deep sigh leaves you now, it had always been a struggle for you to show emotion so openly to those you love, mainly Spencer. You just didn’t want to worry him with the throes of your mind, and while Spencer appreciated the sentiment he reminded you repeatedly that he’s there for you through it all and just really wants you to take advantage of that.

“I just want to help you, angel.” he says softly, “I can’t do that if you don’t let me in. You don’t even have to tell me what’s wrong, just that something is wrong.”

Tears well up in your eyes, “I know Spence. I—It’s just, saying out loud that I’m—whatever—makes it real. A—And then you get so worried and I get more anxious—“

“Hey. It’s my job to worry about you. Because I love you,” he places his hands on yours, “But, I was thinking what if we had a code word or something, just a single word, and you can say it or text me or anything and I’ll know that you’re not feeling well.”

Your face softens at his proposal. The irony you face is that your brain has convinced you healing can be done alone, that if you’re the one who fucked up the road you should be the one to repair it. While you know logically healing is more effective when you have support, it doesn’t make it any easier for you to accept the help you need, that Spencer feels you deserve.

“I think…that’s a good idea.”

“Yeah?” he replies, “Do you want to pick the word?”

You think about it for a few minutes. You don’t want to do a silly word like banana or chicken, you want something that maybe doesn’t sound serious but would still convey the intent of the code word.

“Does castling work?” you offer softly.

Spencer’s face morphs into something you can’t quite decipher, but to him it’s a mix of adoration, love, and pure empathy for you. He’s just so touched by the fact you want to use that word, after just discussing the significance of that move. It’s an honor that you trust him enough to be your protecting rook.

“Yeah, that’s perfect angel.”

You give a small nod, “Check.”

___

You knew he wouldn’t judge you, that’s the whole reason you came up with this system. It felt like an emergency contact, which it was, but in a “How bad is too bad before I call?” type of way.

Laid down in your bed, you stared at the glow of your phone with your messages with Spencer open. Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard, daring you to make a move.

Nothing even really happened today, it was just one of those periods where you were in a funk. The voices that lingered in your brain fed you disguised truths and cynicism, and it was hard to feel afloat with support when you couldn’t even tell what was pulling you down.

It didn’t matter though, your tear stained cheeks and puffy red eyes amongst the disarray of your room which satirically matched the chaos in your mind were proof enough that maybe, you weren’t okay.

In this moment it would be stupidly easy to ignore it all and wallow in your own sorrow—Spencer was away on a case and you didn’t know when he was coming back.

So in a leap of faith, or perhaps a lapse in judgment, your thumbs twiddle a message out and press send.

castling

You toss your phone aside and try to avoid thinking about it. He’s probably busy, they’re on a case so he’s probably drawing out the geographical maps or maybe he’s on a raid or maybe he’s—DING.

Cautiously grabbing your phone, you slide the notification.

I’m on the plane, going to land in about an hour or so. I need to make one stop and then I’ll come straight to you, okay?

You stare through the blurriness of your eyes caused by your tears, the words blending together. Before the guilt of texting him and making him aware of your depressed state sinks in, another text comes through.

I love you. See you soon, angel.

Another choked sob releases from your throat, and you put the phone down before any more emotions try to infiltrate you. At some point you end up falling asleep on the bed, your body curled in on itself from the lack of warmth a nice blanket or Spencer could’ve provided.

You’re only stirred awake when you feel a soothing sensation on your head, long nimble yet intentional fingers sifting through your hair. You attempt to open your eyes through the thin crust it’s formed from crying so much, and you’re squinting for the first few moments of vision before registering the human in front of you.

“Hi honey.” Spencer whispers softly as you come to.

“Spence…when did you…”

“Just a couple minutes ago,” the hand in your hair comes to rest on your jaw, “How are you feeling?”

Tired eyes finally meet his brown ones and find nothing but reassurance and concern.

Oh. You’ve worried him now.

The last string of resolve snaps as your face crumbles in and you mutter out apologies mixed in with sniffles and sobs. Spencer moves from his knelt position in front of you to slide in next to you on the bed. He gingerly gathers you in his arms and tucks you into his side whispering it’s okay and you’re safe and i’m here.

After a few long minutes your breathing evens out. “You came.” you sniffled.

He pulls back to look at you with watered eyes, “You called. I’m so proud of you.”

You mumble under your breath, “I didn’t even do anything.”

Spencer shakes his head and tucks you right back in place, feeling the floppy fringe of his hair tickling your forehead, “I know a version of you that would’ve held it all in by yourself. Thank you for letting me be here for you.”

You turn your head into his chest further, letting the hot tears and snot stain his nice button up. His hands rub trails up and down your back, his head bent down to your ear whispering sweet nothings to you. With Spencer delicately taking your defenses down maybe you can finally admit to yourself that you were just too soft for all of it.

“Where did you have to stop by?” you wonder.

He smiles and readjusts you against his body, “I picked up Thai food,” “And some candy, sour of course. And there may be a Snoopy stuffie as well because it reminded me of you.”

You feel a different weight on your heart, not one that’s constricting but one that’s embracing, comforting. In a life where you’ve rarely felt taken care of, or even being worthy of that care, you know with certainty that Spencer would never let you go a day without knowing how much love and care you deserve.

[msmk11]

Maybe

Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader

WC: 1.3k

CW: Pregnancy, giving birth, Coryo being absent, some fluff, ANGST

Summary: You love your husband, but his growing inattentiveness becomes harder and harder to handle, especially with the arrival of your baby.

A/n: I don’t think I’ll ever have it it in me to write Coryo as perfect and sweet cuz he SUCKS. So you get a little fluff here, but a lot of angst still.

Day 8 of mk’s mad dash

The last certainty your husband offered you was on your wedding day when he said “I do.”

That was a year ago.

You knew he was busy. Coriolanus was rising through the ranks so rapidly you wouldn’t be surprised if he assumed the presidency within the next five years. Of course, you were proud of him. Not only was it your duty as his wife to wholeheartedly support him, you also truly, genuinely cared about his happiness and success. But as with everything, there was a cost. In your courtship, Coryo was so very attentive, loving, and dedicated to you. He made you feel special, and you had no trouble falling in love with him. But once he slipped that ring on your finger, all of it came to a halt. It’s not that he entirely ignored you- no, sometimes you saw the glimpses of your old Coryo when he was on top of you at night, or when you went to socialite parties- but you had often been left to fend for yourself this past year.

You absolutely tried to be understanding when your husband would remind you how busy he was, and how he was doing all this hard work for your happiness, but frankly, you missed him. And was it really so wrong for a wife to miss her husband?

Your loneliness and desire for your husband only worsened tenfold when you learned that you were with child. Coryo, of course, was thrilled that you sired an heir. But with him gone all day, and often at outings at night, you saw less and less of him as your pregnancy moved along. You went through your morning sickness alone, felt the first kick alone, learned the baby’s sex alone, and picked out the baby’s room decorations alone. You were desperately hopeful that the birth of your child, your son, would bring Coriolanus back into your arms, a paternal instinct drawing him into the realm of the domestic.

So when the day came that your water broke and contractions started, though you were overcome with anxiety about giving birth, the hope that fluttered in your chest for the return of your husband far superseded it.

You were out tending to the rose garden when it happened, your long, white flowy dress suddenly soaked. You calmly rushed inside to the phone and dialed Coriolanus’ office.

“Office of Coriolanus Snow, this is Lilith. How can I help you today?” A perky, feminine voice asked.

“Hi Lilith, this is Coriolanus’ wife. Can I please speak to him?” You said kindly as you rubbed soothing circles over your swollen stomach.

“Mr. Snow is very busy right now,” Lilith told you calmly, “can I take a message?”

“Lilith, please,” you answered a little more desperately, “this is an urgent call.”

You heard the clacking of her nails against the computer, “one moment.”

The line goes silent, and you know she’s stepped away to speak to your husband. Every second you had to wait to hear Coryo’s deep voice on the other end, the more anxious you began to feel. It was really starting to kick in- you were about to have a baby.

The line crackled and then, “Darling?”

“Coriolanus” you sighed, relieved.

“What’s wrong? I’m very busy here,” he told you seriously.

“The baby. He’s coming. My water just broke.”

Your husband inhaled sharply on the other side of the phone, “Oh, okay. Okay. Well, are you alright? How’re you feeling?”

You cupped your bump gently, “I’m okay right now, sweetheart. But I imagine contractions will start to kick in soon. Can you come home?”

And then, your voice slightly broke, “Please. I need you Coryo.”

“Yes, of course, darling. I’ll be home as soon as I call the doctor.”

“Okay, thank you,” you said, voice shaky.

You hung up the phone and took a deep breath. Everything was going to be okay.

*****

Pain. White hot, blinding pain consumed your body and you couldn’t stop the screams that were leaving your body. The doctor was saying something to you but you didn’t care. You just wanted it all to stop.

Tears were streaming down your face and you kept shaking your head, “I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”

Suddenly, like an angel, Coriolanus was in your view, white light shining down on his blonde curls creating a halo. Your sobs quieted at his face.

“Coryo,” you hiccupped, “I can’t. I can’t do this.”

He placed his hand on your forehead, stroking your sweaty baby hairs away from your face, and your eyes fluttered shut at his touch.

“Darling, you can. I promise. You know why?”

You opened your eyes again and stared intently into his bright blue ones, “why?”

“Because you’re a Snow now. And Snows can do anything.”

“Snows can do anything,” you murmured.

Can. Coriolanus said can. The first firm answer from him in a year. If he could give you that, you could do this.

Your husband nodded at you, a soft smile on his face, “Good girl.”

He moved his hand from your forehead down to your hand and clasped it tightly. His encouragement is what allowed you to start pushing again.

As you pushed, your screams returned. But instead of hopeless, frail screams, they were determined and strong. Soon enough, smaller, whiny screams filled the air- your baby’s.

The doctor swooped the baby out from between your legs, “it’s a boy.”

Tears began to stream down your face again, but they were happy tears.

“Coryo, we have a baby,” you sobbed.

Your husband bent down and kissed your forehead tenderly, “well done, darling. Our very own baby boy.”

“Mr. Snow, the umbilical cord.”

Coriolanus stood and gave your hand one more squeeze before walking over to your baby. With slightly shaking hands he cut the cord, and then your baby boy was placed gently into his arms. He walked over to you, the softest look on his face.

“He’s here,” Coriolanus said, placing the baby into your arms.

Your son was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen, and your heart swelled as you quickly noticed some of Coryo’s features and your own on the face of your son.

“He’s perfect.”

*****

After everything had settled and the doctor left, it was just you and your perfect little family cradled together in the master bedroom of your home. Your baby boy sat cooing in your arms, swaddled in a soft blue blanket, while Coriolanus sat behind you, arm around your shoulders and head peering over you to stare at him.

“We make a pretty good baby, Coryo,” you told your husband softly.

“Mhmm, that we do.”

You leaned into his touch as your husband began to run soothing strokes up and down your side. If everything could stay just like this, you would be perfectly happy. You’d never ask for anything else in your life.

“Sweetheart,” you implore softly.

“Yes, darling?”

“Do you think you’ll be able to take some time off work, to be with me and the baby?”

His hand on your side stilled and he inhaled sharply, “darling.”

You turned to look at him, big eyes soft and pleading, “Coryo, please. The baby needs his father.”

You paused.

“And I need my husband.”

Coriolanus hesitated, and you wished you could tell what was going on in that always-running brain of his.

“Maybe, darling.”

Maybe.

The death and birth of hope.

It wasn’t a no- the word so ingrained in your brain that you saw it seared on the back of your eyelids. And in that, there was hope. Hope that you’d get your husband back. That you’d get to be a mother alongside him as a father. That everything could be the way it used to.

But maybe wasn’t a yes either. One too many times now you’d gotten your hopes up when Coryo responded to one of your requests with a maybe.

Well maybe you didn’t like his answer.

Maybe you didn’t like feeling abandoned or alone.

Maybe.

But instead, all you said was, “okay.”

[thecapricunt1616]

Daddy!Carmy at his 2nds birth

Call me cringe but fuck it !!!!!

Let’s talk Carmy during an unmedicated birth. Holy shit. He would be… scared. Like. Seeing his girl in such pain would lowkey make him woozy that he couldn’t help. Fr while you were groaning through contractions ofc he would be holding your hand but…(more BTC)

Really as soon as you get to the hospital, bc let’s be real who wants to be there before they’re a minute apart and you’re literally crowning? And ofc by that stage since you waited for so long - there’s no such thing as an epidural so Carmen would be shaking with nerves bc he knows you’ve been grunting and nearly screaming in pain all night and he knows labor only gets worse he’d be mentally buckling In.

You’d call Pete and Nat (or Syd, let’s be real) to watch your first so you could go to the hospital. By the time you’d get there and your doula met you, and told you you were 9 dilated and she just had to break your water and you’d probably be pushing within 30 minutes you were elated considering your first, much like Carmy was a long, intense, and most of all exhausting labor that lasted over 48 hours - so the way this one was ready to head out in less then 24 had you more than pleased.

By the time you really had the urge to push he would be standing at your side knowing the time from your first delivery. The second you told him you “felt scared” he would be at your side, holding your leg and dipping a washcloth in cold water, dabbing it on your forehead and reminding you of how the last time you “weren’t sure you could do it” you delivered a beautiful, healthy baby boy with no problems and that he was waiting at home so excited to become a big brother.

“Shut up. I can’t. I can’t Carmen it’s too hard -“ you groaned, gripping the bedside so hard your knuckles went white and you felt like the noise you let out was something akin to an angry grizzly bear as another contraction washed over your back and stomach. You looked at him, eyes narrowing “you fucking did this to me! Fuck you!” You growled, shifting uncomfortably if you could even call it that.

“That’s normal” one of the nurses that was holding your other leg said and you shot her a glare, quickly losing all other feeling as the overwhelming urge to push washed over you. It didn’t matter how bad it hurt or how hard it was, push was the only thought you had. You were nearly screaming in effort and Carmy was looking at you like he was about to pass out in fear and your doula patted one of the nurses to tap you out and told her it was time for a break and for you to change positions because your back was clearly doing no good.

At this time Carmy would rest his forehead on yours, stroking your cheek lovingly and would whisper “y’doin so good, baby. So good, angel. Princess is jus’givin us a hard time, huh? She’s stubborn like her dad yea?” He joked, earning the smallest smile from you.

“I-i think” you sniffled back your tears “I think- on my knees- maybe? That helped with little dude” he stroked your single tear away with the back of his forefinger.

“That’s a great idea, Angel. Always know what to do, want me to help you?” He asked gently and your lip quivers

“I’m scared” you whisper, tears pooling over your lash line.

“Oh- Angel” he said gently, stroking your tears away “you know there’s nothing to be afraid of, mm? Y’body did amazing the last time- that’s just fear talkin’, your beautiful perfect body delivered baby cub with no issues, so she’s gonna be the same” he carefully stroked your sore belly.

You sniffled, pouting for a moment before asking the nurses for help putting the bars down on Carmys side so he could support you like last time while you sat on your knees. Two stray tears fell from Carmys eyes and he squeezed your hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing it.

He helped you through another exhausting contraction before helping you ease on your knees and gently rubbing your back as you rocked back and forth groaning through another contraction when the last was less then a minute before.

“Good girl- good breathing baby,” he kissed your shoulder, feeding you more ice chips when you huffed your mouth felt dry again.

“Gotta push- gotta- h-hold my hand” you squeaked, clutching Carmys hand for dear life as you pushed harder then you thought was possible, grunting all the way through and you were honestly suprised when you heard the nurse say

“C’mon dad! Baby’s nearly out come catch her- momma one more big push you can do it -“

And with one more deep breath and a big growl you heard Carmy gasp and your baby start to cry before the nurse said

“Congratulations! It is absolutely still a girl- momma hold on just one more second I’m cutting the cord here and daddy will go ahead and put baby on your chest” you sobbed yourself hearing your little girl cry, falling to your hip as soon as the nurse said it was ok and rolling on your back, unclipping your nursing delivery gown to see Carmy was crying just as hard as you were

“Give her - give her oh my god, hi princess” you cried as Carmy laid her on your chest, kissing her cheeks and forehead as she wailed. “She’s so beautiful-“ you cried, head falling to the pillow in exhaustion

“She’s perfect, she’s amazing princess- look at her her lungs are so strong” he kissed your forehead before hers “strong just like her mama” he sniffled, stroking her cheek as you settled her on your breast to eat.

“I love you, thank you. Thank you for giving me her” you whispered, resting your tired forehead against his shoulder.

He chuckled a bit, kissing your temple “are you kidding? It’s me who should be thanking you for the rest of my life”

[mccardswife]

You are enough

heyy! this is my first one shot so it is not the best but feel free to give any tips!

arsenal wfc x teen!reader

warnings: mentions of violence, bruise, angst, sh, a few cuss words, suicidal thoughts, protective awfc and fluff in the end. Please remind me if I have forgotten some! (don't read if you get triggered)

(not proofread so if any mistakes give me a heads up)

word count: 2144

enjoy!

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Being a 16 year old professional football player is not the easiest thing in the world. Yes, you do what you love everyday but it has its up and downs. I signed for arsenal 3 months ago but I had no idea it would be that difficult. I don't feel like I belong here, all the girls on the team are truly amazing don't get me wrong, but it is so hard living up to the standards. Especially when I am me, just me and only me. I don't feel enough

After my alarm went signaling me to get ready for another day of training, the thought of going to training today dreaded me, and it has for weeks. Silence, I lay in my bed in silence just thinking of all the bad things that can happen today. If you are wondering where my parents are, the truth is. I live alone, yes, alone as a 16 year old in England. My parents has never supported me playing footy, not even when I was little. They wanted me to have a career that was meant for "girls" and not "boys", but that sounded bizarre. Football is for everyone, but they don't seem get that into their head. My parents kicked me out when they found out I signed for Arsenal, we lived in London, but since I got kicked out I had to get an apartment for myself. It was pretty hard but my best friend helped me and I am so grateful thankful for her. I have not told the team about me living alone for 6 months, they would go all protective and wanting to know why but I can't tell them, not yet. I don't want to be judged. Saying to the girls that I got kicked out of home, even thinking about it makes me feel so embarrassed and ashamed of myself.

I lay in bed, in pain. Physically and emotionally. Last night, after I was out grocery shopping I took the metro home as always, when a man probably doubled my age walked over to me. I then realized that it was my father, he dragged me into a corner and asked me if I still was into all that "football shit". I got furious and started whisper shout at him, turned out that was not the best idea. He started going about me being a disgrace to the family, not only the family but the world, that no one is ever going to love me for playing football, and then he punched me right in my cheek. I felt thrilling pain in my face, but he grabbed my wrists hard and said in my face "You useless bitch, no one cares about you and never will".

That sentence goes through my mind over and over again. I was almost impossible to fall asleep last night, because of the pain I was in both physically and emotionally. What my father told me, got to my head and I was thinking. Maybe he was right, I am a disgrace, no one will ever love me, maybe if it would be better if I just disappeared.

Well, well. Got to get up for training and stop thinking. Seriously y/n, get your shit together...

I walked downstairs to the bathroom and got dressed and tried to cover the bruise on my cheek that now has gotten all blue, yellow and purple. It was really painful and very difficult but totally worth it when I was done and I literally could not see a damn thing. Then I did the same to the bruises on my wrists and after I tried to cover up the dark bags under my eyes but that was a bit more of a job.

Suddenly I got the urge, the painful urge. I took the hidden blade from the mirror cabinet and drawed lines on my right arm. One, two, three, four.

Then I looked at the clock. Shit, I thought. The training starts in two hours and we have breakfast together in the dining room an hour before. The metro usually took 30 minutes, I packed my bag in a hurry and left.

When I walked in to the facility I heard two voices yelling my name behind me. Lotte and Alessia walked quickly over to me. "You excited for training?" Alessia asked you. "Yes totally" I said in a lie, I think they saw that I lied because it did not look like they believed me at all. "What about you Less and Lotte?" you said to try getting the attention away from you. It seemed that it worked because they said in sync "Yes". Less and Lotte looked at each other and we giggled.

When we walked in to the dining room, everyone was there. I tried to brush off all the looks I got. Why does everyone look so suspicious today...

"Come here Y/n, sit with us", Leah said after I served myself food. Leah sat with Katie, Kim, Lia, Caitlin, Steph, Beth, Viv and Kyra. I walked nervously over to them and sat down in the seat beside Beth. They started talking and I just sat there quietly eating my food being in my thoughts until Viv said "Y/n, you've been quiet, are you good". They looked at me concerned, "Me? Yes of course Im good, just sat thinking about the upcoming training today". I lied straight through my teeth. "Okay, if you're sure. but you can talk to us though", Caitlin said. I just said a quietly thank you, and then we walked to the locker room and got ready for training.

We started doing some light jog then got into some training drills. I was already sweating, it was surprisingly very sunny outside today and I wore a long sleeve training jersey because of my scars. "Aren't you hot in that", said Jen to me. I just simply shrugged her off saying no.

I was so exhausted, my body is so tired and I really want to lay down. When we had water break I just laid down on the grass. Sweating, I rubbed my face because I was so tired.

Beth and Viv walked over worriedly, they have become my unofficial parents after my transfer to Arsenal. They looked shocked when they saw me. "What" I said in a panicked voice. "Why do you have a big black bruise on your cheek?" Beth said, "And on your wrists?" Viv said. "Is something going on at home?" Viv asked with a knowing look. "No, no of course not, why would you assume that".

After training everyone looked worried and concerned, my passes and shots got sloppier and sloppier, I was hurting more and more. When I was about to leave, Kim, Katie, Leah and Jen cornered me. With Beth and Viv looking guilty behind. They brought me into a private room and they started telling me what Beth and Viv told me. Then all of a sudden Kim said "You know, all the team has been worried and concerned for a while, I can't remember how many times the girls have repeatedly come and talked to me". I looked at her ashamed. "Why do you have bruised?" Katie asked, "I just fell" I said, the lie obvious.

I started scratching because my scars got really itchy, I really wanted to just disappear right there and then. Then Leah grabbed my right wrist softly and pulled up my sleeve, the last thing before I broke down was gasps from the girls. I started trying to make up excuses but none of them were having it, "come with us" said Beth, "We will bring you to the medical room and then we want you to tell us everything". I desperately did not want to but I knew it was no chance of me getting out of this.

When we got to the medical room they put me on one of the beds. My scars were infected, that is why they itched so damn much. Jen was cleaning up my bruises while Kim cleaned up my scars. I know the people who worked here could do it but I did not want them right now, it is bad enough that now the whole team knows.

Leah then said in her stern but soft captain voice "Now tell us everything". I tried to tell her that it was nothing. What Katie said broke me "Please babe, we only want to help you. We know it has been hard for you but please". Then I broke down again, full on shaking and crying. Desperately gasping for air.

I started telling them everything, how my parents are and that they has never supported me once for the choices I have made, that I don't feel like I belong here because I am only me... When I spit out the truth about me living alone for 3 months because my parents kicked me out and that they were abusing me for years before, I saw tears in all of the girls faces. It was a heartbreaking sight. I told them how I ran into my father last night and what he did and said to me and I started sobbing again and saying silently to myself "It is true, what he said. I am a reckless disgrace full kid".

"You are enough y/nn, I promise you babe" Viv said. All of the others agree but I could not help believing my fathers words. "Actually me and Beth have been thinking for a while, we have a spare room and big enough place for 3, and you are like our kid. I am being for real, we love you as our own family. All the team does, but we wondered if you wanted to come live with us?" Viv asked me. I was hesitant and I think Beth saw that because she said "We are not taking no for an answer". I felt a smile creep up on my face and as desperate I was trying to hide it all the others saw and started smiling too. I said to Meadema, "thank you moms". I realized what I said "shit fuck, sorry I did not mean to".

"Y/nn it is okay, you have no idea how glad that made us, you are like our kid" Beth and Viv said.

After a while of me telling them about my thoughts, how I have been feeling for the last weeks, they decided to get me into therapy. We have a therapist at the facility so we agreed to be going to her twice a week. "I am grateful for all of you, I really am but I just feel like a bother" I said quietly.

"No babe stop" Jen said, Katie walked over to me, she took her hands on my head and said "You are enough, a hundred times enough". "You are like a younger sister to me, it breaks me to see you like this, not only me but all of us. We and all the team loves you. You are the baby of the team."

"We will always protect you, and we will get your so called parents locked up." Kim said to me. "Not Viv and Beth but the other parents" Jen said in a playful tone.

"That I understand" I said with a smile of my face.

Leah asked me if she could tell the other girls and the Gaffer, she needed to anyway but it was nice she asked me. I said yes then she walked outside.

A few minutes later they all came in. Kyra, being kind of like my annoying twin ran over to me and hanged on for me for dear life in a bear hug. I started explaining to them a bit more, and reassured them that it was not their fault but my manipulative parents.

I also said that I called Viv and Beth mum and that I am moving in with them and Lessi and Laura said at the same time "about damn time". All the team broke out in laughter.

"I am sorry for not telling you but I feel a thousand times better now after telling you, I have been scared and not felt at home here for a while but telling you and knowing that I can count on you girls will help me. The whole team is kind of like my family I never got and I can't ask for more than that. I am so grateful for all of you, and I love you"

"We love you too y/nn", Leah said with the softest most heartwarming smile ever. "You are our family, blood or not you will always be family" Kim said reassuring.

"Always," Katie said

"And you are enough" the team said lovingly.

[throwawayhero]

hi!! could you do a kirishima bf headcanons? i feel like nobody ever writes for my boy, thank you! 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Of course omg??? He doesn’t get the amount of love he deserves ong. One of the best characters imo, kill me if I'm wrong!! He’s been my favourite for YEARSSS and I will never get tired of him. Some of these are a bit random but I hope you enjoy!! ❤️

Eijirou!Kirishima who always walks to school and/or class with you. He’ll wait for as long as you need him to with little to no complaints (most of the time..)! He’ll just hang around in your dorm trying to look unsuspecting as he looks at your stuff while you rush to get ready. He especially loves to snoop through your trinkets.

“.. Hey, I didn’t know you still had this!”

“Neither did I..”

“Oh—“

Eijirou!Kirishima who actually takes care of his physical appearance/personal hygiene. He doesn't have a sociopathic 30 step skin care routine but don't be surprised when his bathroom drawer is full of hit or miss products that he's tried out. Will give tips about finding good products if asked about it. He always smells SO good. He also has hair products he uses to get the red dye to last longer.

"Hey, can I borrow this?"

"That made my skin super irritated, try this one."

Eijirou!Kirishima who always supports you and your hobbies, even if they only last a week. He's always up for being a test subject of sorts. Painting/drawing? He's ordering you top quality paints and pencils. Reading? Tell him about the characters, the drama, the romance, the plot twists, he's invested. Crochet/knitting? He's wearing the sweater you made him, even if it is a little bit itchy. Yoga? He bought matching yoga mats! He's ALWAYS supportive, now matter how extreme.

"Any other hobbies peaked your interest?"

"Rock climbing."

"..Sounds like fun!"

Eijirou!Kirishima who NEVER forgets to text you good morning/night. He forgot once and showed up to your dorm to apologise (You hadn't even woken up yet). Sometimes he sends little GIFs too.

'Good morning beautiful!! 💗💗💗'

Eijirou!Kirishima who has a highlight on instagram dedicated to pictures of you and things that remind him of you. He doesn't really post on social media, but when he does, 80% of the time it's about you. He also sends you a bunch of those lovey-dovey quotes from Facebook. His captions on photos are always so sweet.

'Spent the day Go-Karting with my beautiful girlfriend! Can't believe how lucky I am! #gokart #love #girlfriend'

Eijirou!Kirishima who is the KING of PDA, to an extent of course. He will kiss you anywhere, in front of anyone. Oh my GOD does this man know how to give good hugs. He's always holding your hand/wrist/finger no matter what you're doing. You could be on a walk, in a line, grocery shopping, or just sitting down together. He's always by your side :)

"..Can you let go of my hand so I can scan the groceries?"

"No but I'll help you!"

Eijirou!Kirishima who GUSHES about you to his friends. This man is head over heels and everyone knows it. He doesn't necessarily believe in soulmates but he does believe that you were the one he was meant to find. He gets this horribly happy look on his face when he thinks about a future with you that everyone can't help but laugh at. He talks about said future all the time.

"When do you want to get married?"

"..What?"

"I wanna know when to start editing my vows."

"..Editing??"

Eijirou!Kirishima who is a bit of a restless sleeper. And when I say restless, I truly mean it. This man will roll on top of you and just lay there, sprawling out and snoring happily. You have been and will continue to be kicked. One time you had woken up to him rolling off the bed.

"You slapped me in your sleep last night."

"Oops. You should've slapped me back!"

"I did."

Eijirou!Kirishima who goes all out on dates. He'll take you to a fancy restaurant and wear a suit and tie with his hair done nicely. He'll ask you to wear something pretty beforehand so that you know not to underdress. He arrives at your house/dorm with flowers and the biggest smile you'll ever see (besides your wedding day). He'll treat you like the princess you deserve!

"You're stunning, hun.. where would I be without you?"

[johnwickb1tsch]

The Girl Next Door - IX

A Constantine x FemVampire!Reader (feat John Wick!) fic based on this imagine. all chapters warnings: nsfw, blood, biting, violence divider by animatedglittergraphics gif from pinterest, wick art from pinterest, prtty sure its AI, OPs unknown lemme kno

9. and be saved

You are left starstruck and gaping, slack-jawed and weak-kneed, when Constantine finally pulls back from the absolute claiming of your mouth, his dark gaze boring into you like he either wants to fuck you, or strangle you. 

Maybe both, considering. 

“After all this, that’s what you think?” he snarls. 

A low growl reminds you both of the danger not far enough away. “And why wouldn’t she, after the way you’ve treated her, you stupid boy?” snarls Wick, his accent thickening in his anger. “Stop touching her.”

You jab a finger in the dhampir’s direction, putting yourself between them again. “This doesn’t mean you own me, buster, don’t get comfortable.” 

The dhampir grumbles deep in his chest at this, glaring blue daggers at Constantine, but he stops his stalking advance. He seems to have enough self-control to weigh the consequences of breaking his promise not to hurt the man you obviously care about (for whatever reason he cannot understand), over the rewards of the deal you made. If he is patient, he will get what he wants. That should concern you, but at the moment you have one thing on your mind. You dare to turn back to your first beau, far from happy. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you snap. 

“I told you that I like you!” 

“Are we in third grade?”

“It sure fucking feels like it!” he snarls, then starts coughing uncontrollably; horrible, racking hacks that convulse his whole body. 

You see the flash of blood on his sleeve. He is literally coughing up his lungs, and your heart breaks all over again. You try to help brace him, and he tries to hold you away. Finally fed up with his nonsense, you use your superior strength to best him, supporting him while trying to send energy to him through the bond to soothe him. 

Naturally, you find that goddammed brick wall erected between you again. You are so frustrated this time that you pound a metaphysical fist against it. At last it gives, and you push all that wonderful strength you went out in the first place to collect down the line to John. Life, for lack of a better word, and he closes his eyes as it washes through him, leaning on you heavily. 

It almost feels too good, and his relief naturally mixes with his native suspicion. He realizes he doesn’t actually remember what it feels like, to experience even the vaguest semblance of true health.   

“Shit,” he rasps, leaning against you, his face buried in your hair. 

You know they say that still waters run deep, but you still don’t understand the point of him hiding from you. Maybe there is no good reason, and maybe you’ll never truly understand. Even with your arms full of Constantine, you remain painfully aware of the lurking dhampir watching you, too close for comfort. 

What have you done?

When you draw back to look at John, the only word you can think to describe his expression is agony. In turn, you somehow feel relieved and wretched and angry, all at once. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you whisper desperately. “Why couldn't you just tell me?”

“I did,” he answers, and maybe he thinks that's true, but he'd practically spoken in code and it's not your fault that you didn't understand. 

You should just tell him your side too, you reason. You've wasted so much time, and he's dying, and did you really hold back just because you were afraid he would laugh at you? You open your mouth, intending to get it out no matter what the cost, when Wick interrupts coldly, “This is very touching. But I didn’t come here to watch you two canoodle.” 

“I don’t give a fu—” 

You cut Constantine off before he can enrage the dhampir again. “He came here to help us,” you insist. “Come upstairs.”

“This asshole only knows how to help himself,” grouses the man in your arms, and you know he is glaring at Wick over your head. “I don’t trust him.” 

“Fine. Come talk to the vampire he brought us, then we can kick him out.” 

Wick snorts at that. “He can try.”

“You promised me,” you dare to remind the vampire hunter, even if there is a quaver in your voice. 

“As you promised me,” Wick counters right back, offering a mocking little bow with his hand over his heart and a heat in his eyes that involuntarily curls your toes.

Dear God. What have you gotten yourself into?

Constatine’s grip on your hip tightens to the point of bruising, had you still been human. You can hear him grinding his teeth, and you have to stop yourself from laughing or crying with exasperation. This man. Maybe you do have a screw loose. You should kick him in the balls for the way he’d treated you, but all you really want to do is wrap him up in your arms, and cloister yourselves away from the world for a very long time. 

Unfortunately, time is not something you have right now.

♰♰♰

Does the Geneva Convention apply to vampires? 

You're sure what Wick did to the vamp he’d captured is at least immoral, if not downright illegal. And yet, you know this sycophant of don Juan’s was no innocent. You find it hard to feel sorry for him.

It doesn’t take much persuasion to get the injured vamp to spill the beans. He’s already scared shitless of Wick, and adding Constantine only makes him talk faster in hope of some mercy. You doubt he’s going to get it, or maybe but only in the form of a quick death. 

He tells you all that don Juan has had a bone to pick with the High Table for years. Squabbles over power, jurisdiction, and of course, money, resenting the steep tithe he’s had to pay as a matter of course. He formulated a plan to overthrow them, by somehow involving the Son of Satan to wipe the slate clean with a new reign of Hell on Earth. With the exception, of course, that Juan continues to rule in L.A.

Constantine keeps shaking his head in disbelief, now seated at the head of the kitchen table. Wick has taken the seat at the opposite end, and you lean with your arms crossed against the sink, lowkey ready to intervene if they go after each other again. Maybe you’re not the brightest crayon in the box, but you sense the peace between them is tenuous at best no matter what Wick promised you.  

“It’s like going after a roach problem in your house with a nuclear bomb,” gripes Constantine. “What the fuck is he thinking?”

Wick shrugs. “I will kill him. You kill the demons. Problem solved.”

Constantine snorts at that. “Yeah. Easy peasy.”

“Is it not?”

“It never is with these assholes. When I deport them they return to their realm, but they don’t die. They could just keep trying, unless we really figure out what they're up to.”

“How do we do that?”

John lights a cigarette, ignoring you as you glare at him, the big idiot. He blows a cloud of smoke into the air, staring at the cracked plaster of the ceiling like it holds the answer key. 

“I gotta use the chair.”

“At Midnite’s?” 

You have no idea what John’s talking about, but Wick seems to. 

“Yeah.” 

“Can you use it to find where Juan’s hiding? He’s gone to ground like the rat he is. It would save me time.” 

“Maybe. It’s…unpredictable.” 

“I might be able to find him,” you admit reluctantly, staring down at your bare feet. 

Both pairs of dark eyes turn towards you. “How?” they echo each other, almost eerily similar in that moment. 

“The last time you fed me…” you say to John, your cheeks warming with the memory. “Afterwards, I kind of…surfed around the city, while you slept. In my head, I mean. But not…” 

Wick is impressed by this, an eyebrow lifting, the corner of his mouth pulling slightly. John, however, gives you a hard look. “You just…went frolicking around on the astral plane, huh? Do you know how dangerous that can be?”

You laugh, for once more amused than miffed by John’s irritation with you. It helps, that now you’re starting to suspect it comes from a place of caring, rather than contempt. Not that you can tell through the bond now. He’s re-built his walls between you, twice as high and twice as thick as they were before. You know he has more experience with this psychic stuff than you do, but it seems unfair. 

“Well, I did it, and I found Juan. He felt it too. He hit me with something. It woke you up.”

“Yeah. I remember that.” 

You shrug. “I could probably do it again.”

John ashes his cigarette with a flick into an overflowing dish, staring at the reflection in the green glass. “It took a little more than blood to invoke power like that.” Your ears feel like they’re on fire, and how ridiculous is it, that even undead you still can blush?

You dare to meet his eyes, and find a matching warmth therein. It’s his only tell.

“I can give you blood, malyshka,” offers Wick, breaking the heavy silence in the kitchen. “And whatever else you need.” You hate it, that just the thought makes a spear of warmth shoot straight to your loins. 

Constantine narrows his eyes at the vampire hunter, pointing with the smoldering cigarette. “You can keep your cursed blood to yourself, dhampir.”    

“I am not cursed.” 

“No, but you’re a helluva traitor.” 

“Pot, kettle, wizard boy. You think you’re the only one with a bone to pick with God?” 

“Yeah, but you don’t see me skipping off to work for the other side because of it.” 

“The other side,” Wick scoffs. “Two sides, same coin, Constantine.” 

John snorts in answer. “Not exactly.” 

“Oh? Was it not God who gave you this gift you resent so? Was it not God’s priests who fed my pregnant mother to a hungry vampire to create me, God’s weapon against the darkness? My poor mother died in agony after my birth. The priests called her suffering God’s will. That’s what they said when my Yelena and my little Irinushka died too. I finally told them all to go to Hell.”

“So now you get your revenge on God by working for the Underworld?”

“I was made to kill vampires. So it is what I do.” 

Constantine barks with bitter laughter. “This is what you’re getting with this guy, y/n. He doesn't kill vampires to help people. He does it to scare the other vamps into line, so they don’t defy the High Table, and so the most powerful among them can go on exploiting human kind with ease. Trafficking, drugs, you name it, they’ve got their dirty fingers in it. When you said you would rob a drug cartel? He’s the one they would send after you for it.” 

It’s not like you thought Wick was a good man, but for some reason hearing all this hurts your heart. Shocked, you turn to Wick. “Is this true?” you ask hushedly. 

He actually looks regretful, not meeting your eyes. “Yes.”

“Why?”

He shrugs. “I made a bargain, a long time ago. It is the only thing that matters to me now. I must honor it.”

You’re not sure why hearing all this has made you feel sick. You don’t really get stomach upset anymore, but you do not feel well. 

“Milaya…” says Wick pleadingly, willing you to look at him. 

But you just shake your head, staring at the floor. Maybe deep down, there was a part of you that thought maybe, maybe, you wouldn’t have to be so completely alone as the long years went by. But now you know this was a very stupid thought indeed. 

“Ask me,” prompts Wick quietly. “Ask me what the bargain was for.” 

“She doesn’t care,” says Constantine, at the same time you ask: 

“What was it for?” 

Ignoring John, his dark eyes bore into you. “I made a deal with a powerful witch of the High Table, that I would serve until the day I found my Yelena again. I was told that if I waited long enough, someday she would be reborn to me.”

You don’t know why you feel dizzy in that moment, like the floor of the whole world has dropped out from under you. You close your eyes against it, screwing them shut tight as your fingers–claws–dig into the countertop behind you. 

This man has done terrible things–for centuries, it sounds like. But he did them for love. Does that excuse them? No. Does it soften you to him? You hate to admit it, but the truth is…a little. 

You entertain the possibility for a second–you only allow yourself a second–that maybe you are this woman the dhampir thinks you are. A reincarnated soul, searching for her long lost mate, like in the deliciously trashy romances you love to read. Shouldn’t you have some sort of past life memories or dreams? Isn’t that how it always goes in the stories?

You think about how you’ve always felt adrift in this life. Not really interested or committed to anything. How it’s all always seemed kind of silly to you, meaningless even, and the only thing you’ve ever been certain was truly important, was to be kind to others. It’s ironic, maybe, that only after becoming a vampire that you truly gained a sense of purpose in your life, helping those who couldn’t help themselves, and removing evil doers from the population at large. 

You think about how you came to L.A. You practically moved here on a whim, because you were tired and off a bad breakup and you wanted to go somewhere exciting and new. Did fate guide that choice you made for yourself? Was it the unconscious searching for your soul’s true mate? 

If that’s true, then why didn’t you go to New York instead? 

You think about the day you moved into your apartment. Wrestling with your numerous boxes of stuff. Not much, really. Just what you fit into your compact hatchback car, which has since died an inglorious death on the 405. Some jerk had bumped into you on the stairs, nearly making you drop your heavy load of books, only to belatedly steady the box before it spilled, and maybe as an afterthought, you. You remember how you’d looked up, up, up because Jesus he was tall, to find the man now pulling on the addictive smoke that will prove to be his doom. He’d looked down at you with bemused annoyance in those lovely dark eyes. Told you to “Watch it,” and went on his way down the stairs, two at a time on those long legs, clearly in a hurry. 

Rushing off to save the world, or a little precious part of it, you know now. 

You remember how you’d felt like you’d been hit with a frying pan, the first time you saw him. How your heart had seemed to stop then start again, racing doubletime.  

If this was a movie, John Constantine would be your soulmate, the man you were meant to find, the one who fate seemed to be driving you towards. Because since the first time you set eyes on him, you haven’t been able to look away. And if this was a movie…it would be a tragedy, because the man you love is dying, and there is no magic that can truly save him, only delay the inevitable. 

You look between the two men seated at either head of the table. Both formidable, in their own ways, they could have been mistaken for brothers in their appearances. You wish you could deny that you felt a certain something for Wick too. It would be much simpler that way. You don’t really like the idea that things are preordained. You want to believe that you have the power to make choices about life, be they good or bad. But there is something in this dilapidated kitchen, the warm night air whispering through the broken windows, that feels unmistakably like fate. 

“I hope you find her someday,” you tell the dhampir, and you mean it, holding your hands wide in a gesture of peace. “But I don’t really think that I’m the answer you’re looking for.” 

The too-long sleeve of your shirt–John’s shirt–flops as you gesture, and you roll up the sleeve again, feeling more than a little ridiculous despite the looks both men have been paying you. As you crease the fabric up your forearm Wick zeroes in on something peeking out of your sleeve. 

“What is that?” he demands, with way more force than the situation demands. 

You look at him quizzically. “A tattoo?” 

“Let me see.” 

Constantine frowns as he watches this exchange. You feel a little uneasy too, as you pull back the sleeve to reveal the black and white flowers emblazoned on your underarm. “It’s just…something I thought was pretty on the flash wall, when I turned 18.” It had called to you, for whatever reason, on that rebellious expedition with a friend who had also just crossed the threshold into adulthood. Luckily, you still liked it. Lord knows dumber late night decisions had been made in that tattoo parlor in your little town. 

Wick, however, sits back in the chair, laughing to himself like you have told him an inside joke. “Margaritka. What do you call this flower in English?”

“Daisies?” 

Then you remember what he’d said, about the little white flower his late wife had loved to pick near their cabin. 

Oh fuck.

[cinnamonest]

not too sure if you've already put thought into it, but which yanderes would be/wouldn't be willing to break bones? i feel like for most of them it's a hard yes but depending on the circumstances and their mental fragility.

also sadisim. (COUGHCOUGHCHILDECOUGHCOUGH)

ignore this ask if you've already answered/have a question similar to this (or just don't want to answer/! and if your reqs are closed and my tumblrs just tweaking that's okay too!!

I would say Albedo initially, but he's a practical man, if you're not going to be using the limbs anyway might as well just take them off, so… as for some others…

Kazuha does it for practicality, specifically your ankles. It's a useful risk prevention method.

He still feels bad, and he apologizes… but he doesn't hesitate much. After all, he did give you fair warning, but you ran off yet again. This is just to keep you safe, for your own well-being, and for his peace of mind.

He's sweet about it too. He puts your hand against his arm beforehand, and tells you here, you can squeeze down on my arm, okay? After all, it will help with the initial pain.

He's still sweet when you squirm away and whimper, even though the grip with which he pulls you back is harsh.

I know. But I can't let you be a danger to yourself…

He holds you gently for however long it takes you to stop crying. He'll get you water and food and painkillers/alcohol, tends to your every need, waits on you hand and (broken) foot. Notably, once the initial reaction has died down, he stops really acknowledging it in any meaningful way, talks to you as if everything is normal. Even when addressing your leg, he talks about it as if it were some injury you acquired by other means.

You might be spiteful enough to bring it up and remind him that it's his fault, but he's quick to correct you, keeping a soft voice and gentle smile all the while.

You did have every opportunity to choose otherwise, you know. Ah, but I know you're upset… it's okay if you blame me.

He'll be fully patient for you to heal, too. He’s very cheerful once it's fully healed, says he's glad you're better, helps you walk around a bit to get readjusted, keeping his hands firmly supporting you the entire time. Even for a while after it's healed enough to walk, he checks on it from time to time to ensure the final stages of mending are going well.

He tells you you're fully healed, with a soft voice and ever-pleasant smile, not without adding—

Let’s hope it stays that way.

----

Childe has to be in a more angry mood than usual to get to that point. Usually, his form of sadism is the sort that focuses on a sort of pleasure-pain, the sort he can get off to… but this is a bit different.

It's only because you keep being irritating. He's really tolerant, you know? He's been so lenient, he tells you, he's been so nice, he's been so good to you, and what do you do? You keep being mean. It's cute up to a certain point, but you're being like, really really mean.

It's actually kind of nice, on his end, to see your immediate reaction — you can tell just by the strained smile and clenched teeth as he speaks that you've crossed some sort of line. For once, you actually shrink back, clutch your hands up at your chest defensively, start to take some steps back… but you can't get away fast enough before you're drug forward by the hair or neck.

Come on… it's not that hard to be good, is it?

It's a last chance — he's nice enough to give you that, at least, even if you don't deserve it (which you don't, he thinks). Come on. You can be good, you can apologize and submit and he'll forget all the spiteful shit you've done today and then you can have a nice, happy rest of the day. You can do it. It should be easy. He takes one of your hands in his, holding it with a sort of sincere pleading gesture.

But, even though you should know better, you still remain spiteful through your fear, narrow your eyes and tell him no. You try to jerk your hand away, only to find his grip on it is iron-firm.

His smile twitches.

Aw. That's too bad.

And thus, you process the sound and sight before the pain — you see him take your hand and twist it, hear the snap, and only then does the pain shoot up through your wrist, through your arm and to every nerve in your body. It's bad enough that you fall to your knees, squealing, cradling the now-unnaturally-twisted limb.

Yes, he's very very nice, but admittedly, hearing you wail like that is rather pleasing, all things considered. More so when he grabs you by the jaw, jerks your head up to force you to look at him, and sees the tears in your eyes, the way your face contorts with pain.

Maybe you can be good now…?

This time, you squeeze your eyes shut, frantically nodding your head, a pitiful little sound coming out of your throat. He'd be lying if he said it wasn't very satisfying.

---

There's also a notable difference between willing to break bones and likelihood of breaking bones, actively willing or not.

Some non-humans are particularly unaware of their strength — Xiao fits this well. He genuinely doesn't like hurting you, although you would think so, based on how much he does, it's just that he forgets how fragile you are. For someone of his strength, your body might as well be made of glass.

So it just sort of happens… he grabs you by the arm or leg and pulls in the wrong direction a bit too hard, there's a stomach-churning snapping sound and suddenly you're shrieking and crying. It startles him quite a bit — he lets go and shrinks back, all wide-eyed and head darting from side to side as he looks around in confused panic.

But just as with fragility, he's also not very aware of the durability of the human body. He’s not great at gauging severity of injury — normally, he just attacks creatures until they stop moving, because that's his goal when it comes to his responsibilities.

So he has no real reference for how much damage he's done. Bones are all connected, yes? He probably broke something important, or made some internal organ come apart somehow, and it will kill you. The thought sends him into a full-fledged panic, he's bolting off and dragging help back as fast as physically possible, explaining that you have sustained mortal injury and are on the verge of death.

He's at least comforted to learn that that is in fact not the case, and you have merely broken your arm, which, the innkeeper confirms, is in fact not fatal. He's too relieved to notice the blatant frustration in her voice (this marks the fourth time he's insisted you are about to die over something actually far more trivial), and merely nods when she asks to please be more careful.

He doesn't really know how to handle the matter from there. He feels guilty about it. You're obviously in pain, and it's his fault. He'll sit next to you, hunched over and staring with those big yellow eyes as if trying to make you heal faster with sheer willpower. Makes sure you don't get up and move around (despite your insistence that your legs are just fine — still can't take risks, he says), disappears for a while each day and comes back with mountaintop herbs that are supposed to dull pain.

He doesn't outright say sorry, but you can see the remorse on his face and in his actions, and it's actually kind of pitiful… it reminds you of a little kid that broke a vase sheepishly trying to put it back together… all in all, you can't really bring yourself to be harsh about it.

[tumble-witch]

TW light suggestion of body horror. No descriptions though!

Creatomachia

Bunnix shows up in Marinette's bedroom when it's already dark outside.

Marinette knows what the older heroine is about to ask the second she hears the burrow open. When Bunnix greets her, Marinette is hyperventilating. Instead of exchanging pleasantries, she asks:

- Is it... him again?

Bunnix has a grim expression on her face, yet shakes her head. Marinette exhales. She has another question.

- Is it something I did?

- No. I'm sorry I'm asking this from you again. I'm sorry there will be no answers yet.

- It's okay. I am ready.

At first Ladybug thinks she is on another planet. Another dimension, even. There are cloud fractals in the sky. There is a street light growing out of another one, growing out of another one, growing out of another one... Trees are huge and have so many leaves they are almost a solid green mass. Some buildings are so tall they go way past the clouds in a curvy line. It reminds her of the Jack and the Beanstalk fairytale her mom used to read her before bed.

The roads branch out like blood vessels, getting smaller with each separation, ending in dead ends near the buildings or growing vertically on top of the walls.

The whole city almost looks like it could move at any second. It almost looks alive.

As Ladybug progresses through the streets (if she can even call them that), she finally realizes where the people are.

At least, what's left of them.

Infinite growth apparently works on humans, too. She never thought she'd be so thankful to see somebody not move.

The silence makes her ears ring. Everything is quiet, except for some mechanical sounds the structures make, not really meant to support their own weight in this new form.

Then, she hears laughter.

A girl with hair so long she's not sure where it ends is frantically pacing around the roof, her body movements jittery and odd. As the camera of the heroine's yo-yo focuses on the akuma, helping seek out where the cursed butterfly is hiding, Ladybug realizes the dress this girl is wearing is not grey.

It's is covered in trillions of colourful tiny dots of different shapes and sizes. They seem jittery too, as if trying to move, but some force is making them stay together. This feels like standing up after lying down for too long. Looking at the pattern for too long makes her head hurt

Ladybug continues hiding. She takes her time looking for clues. At this point she's not really sure if the girl is actually laughing or this is a weird hysterical cry. Sometimes the akuma starts muttering under her nose, too quiet to make out most of the words. Ladybug is pretty sure she heard the girl say "I can fix this" a few times though. She shifts to hear the words better.

The akuma turns around

This is the hardest she's ever fought. Chat Blanc feels like child's play now.

While the villain almost looks out of breath, long hair going everywhere, Ladybug is still barely able to keep up.

The air is too dense with oxygen.

The girl has a yo-yo as a weapon, in a cruel twist of irony. And she's damn good with it. Yet, she clearly hesitates in using the thing, saving it as a last resort to escape.

Ladybug tries to reason with the akumatized victim.

- Wait! Please, let me help you!

- You don't understand, - the girl looks around frantically, - I have to fix this! I need to fix this!

Villain's grey yo-yo starts to glow white and she throws it at a fire hydrant, making it grow another one on top.

The akuma was inside the earring. Ladybug was hit by the yo-yo. She doesn't have the time to think as she casts Miraculous cure, just before her brain registered the pain fully.

She'll remember the way it looked when she closes her eyes though.

The streets go back to normal. Her body is normal. Ladybug turns around and meets the eyes of

herself

Marinette sits on the ground, horrified. But before Ladybug can talk to her Bunnix appears and she has to go.

Bunnix doesn't say anything as they walk through the burrow, but she's pretty sure the older heroine is holding her shoulder softer than ever before.

They didn't change anything. They didn't fix anything after they came back, no scoldings, no erasing her name from anywhere, nothing. Marinette is growing more paranoid at every turn, expecting to get akumatized. Her conflict avoidance is at all times high. She's withdrawing from her friends.

Nobody is near when Hawkmoth himself shows up in the middle of the night and she has to transform. He senses her distress immediately.

This is just too easy.

The butterfly lands in her earring just as she started to call for a last effort Lucky Charm.

"Creatomachia, this is Hawkmoth. You are overwhelmed with every problem creating a million smaller ones. Things seem to stack on top of each other and just never end. I'll give you the power to fix everything. In return, you will give me your and Chat Noir's miraculous."

For a split second, everything is white.

[devvelle]

You can't help but laugh when Idia greets you at his door wrapped in as many blankets as his body strength can support.

He squints his eyes at you, your figure illuminated by blue lights lining the hallways of his dorm. Although dim, it’s definitely more brightness than he can handle and he tugs you inside before even saying hello. Sure enough, the moment he closes the door you're shrouded in darkness; the curtains are shut tight and the only light comes from a small, cinnamon-scented candle he's burning. A bit of light emanates from his pc, but for once, most of his setup is off. The theme playing from the hand-held console in his grasp fills the silence between you.

Idia looks miserable, sniffling and staring at you tiredly.

"You doing okay?" Breaking the silence, you step closer to pat at his mess of hair. He attempts to reply but is instantly overcome with a fit of coughs that has him doubling over. Rushing closer, you rub your hand over his back.

All he can do is groan in pain.

With a pitying sigh you push him toward his bed, narrowly avoiding piles of clothes barely visible in the darkness. He places his trust in you to guide him, plopping down heavily on the creaky mattress at your cue. When you sit beside him, he leans his weight against you.

“You're gonna get sick,” he croaks.

You comb through his hair with your fingers. "Doesn't really seem like you care."

He snorts, but makes no effort to peel away from you. "Everything hurts," he grumbles, snuggling into your side in search of comfort. "I feel like I was hit by a bus, and all the lights were giving me a headache. I couldn't even sleep."

"Well that’s a lesson in limiting your screen time," you muse, and you know him well enough to predict the roll of his eyes.

The lull in conversation after your comment reminds you that you had a purpose for coming here. You grab at the satchel you had brought along with you, retrieving a warm container and a sports drink for him.

"You think you can eat this? It’s not much. Ortho's really worried about you, too, so we need you healthy."

The sudden soft tone you take catches him off guard. Idia still isn't used to being cared for by anyone other than his brother, but he blames the heat of his face on his illness. After a moment he accepts your gifts with shaky hands, taking one last deep breath before sitting up to eat.

You stay at his side until he finishes, soothing him with your touch through several coughing fits and his annoyed rambles. When you ask to stay the night afterward, he's thankful you saved him the embarrassment of having to beg you to do so himself. You suggest he try to sleep again, and he eagerly abandons every distraction for the warmth of your body and his bedsheets. He lays on your chest; conversation flows between you for only a few minutes before his responses become meaningless murmurs muffled by the fabric of your shirt. Your fingers trace hearts along his back until his breathing evens out.

In the safety of Idia’s room, the scent of cinnamon and the warmth you share with him are a comfort you wouldn’t trade for anything.

[pablitogavii]

gavi missed the match because of the yellow card so he stayed at home watching the game w his gf

I'll change this up and make it pt. 2 of Injury which you can find HERE

This turned out really SMUTTY ;)

"Amor what channel is it on!? I can't find it!" Pablo was in the living room scrolling through TV channels frantically trying to find where to watch the Barça game that was nearly starting.

Pablo truly rarely watched games from home, even when he gets injured he shows up at the camp for moral support of his teammates but you convinced him to take it easy after his last injury and stay with you at home instead.

"It's channel three, amor" you yell back giggling a little at his panic like he was going to be late for the game he isn't even playing, it was cute and unusual to see Pablo like this.

"¡Gracias a Dios! It hasn't started yet" Pablo said laying back while resting his leg on the side trying his best to relax the muscle of his thigh knowing you would get on his case about taking it easy.

"How's the pain amor?" you came back from the kitchen with some popcorns and his favorite chocolate milk (little babyboy) making him smile wide and take the glass from you quickly.

"It's fine...you really worry too much about me princesa" he said although the moment your hand touched his muscle you could tell he was lying and that he should take some pain medication for the discomfort.

You grabbed the pills from the table taking one before coming closer to his face while he was staring at the TV waiting impatiently for the game to start.

"Alright, open up amor" you said and he finally looked away from the screen at you while his smirk was growing with each passing second.

"Isn't that usually my line princesa???" he touched your lips making you blush a little before shaking off the feeling he reminded you of in that moment and reminding him to take his medication.

He groaned before opening his mouth for you to put pill inside before swallowing it with some chocolate milk earning himself a kiss for listening to you.

"You know you haven't given "big Pablo" any attention recently preciosa?? He's been telling me how much he misses you..." he winked and you slapped his shoulder playfully but he pulled you into a passionate kiss that was interrupted with the game starting.

"I guess "big Pablo" is going to have to wait then???" you smirk but Pablo was having other plans taking your hand and placing it on his now clearly visible bulge while keeping his eyes glued to the TV screen.

"Or you could be a good girl and help me relax while watching the game, princesa? After they hurt him, he could use some loving from his girl, you know?" Pablo's voce was tactful and you felt your stomach flip as your panties became wet from the bulge that only became harder under your hand...big Pablo really did miss you ;)

"Mm you were pretty good past few days with taking all your medications and listening to me...so maybe I could give him some loving now hmm?" you smirked kissing Pablo's neck while he closed his eyes only for a moment before continuing to watch the game while you moved your hand underneath his t-shirt touching his strong abs before slipping inside his grey sweatpants and taking his hard cock out.

"Let's see if I can help with that pain.." you smiled as your eyes met for a moment before you stuffed him inside your warm mouth moving your head slowly on his shaft while his breathing quickened as he tried to focus on the game that was moving pretty quickly from the very beginning.

"Damn it Pedri! You need to pass to the left quicker..f..fuck..amor!" you head moaning making you smirk against him trying to get more of him inside of your mouth which only added to his pleasure.

"Mhmm" you moaned against his shaft knowing how that drove him crazy and he threw his head back wanting you to move faster but you decided to tease him just a little bit, you couldn't help it.

"Aren't you watching the game??" you completely took him out of your mouth stroking him with your hand teasingly and he suddenly groaned at the loss of warmth looking down at you with angry eyes. Ugh you loved when he got angry! It was such a turn on!

"Be good princesa! Don't make me choke you on my cock to teach you a lesson for teasing!" he was in his full dominant mood now and you pouted starting to suck him again while his hands grabbed your hair moving you as he pleased.

He was deliciously close to cumming when you pulled away once more with a big smirk on your face just to spite him and he had enough grabbing your body roughly tearing off your shorts and burying himself deep inside of you without warning.

When you tried to move after adjusting to his length he spanked your ass making you whimper and look at him confused.

"You are going to cockwarm me while I finish watching the game and you are not allowed to move..not even a millimeter! Understood!?" he ordered and you knew it will be better for you to obey him now that you pissed him off so much. Besides, you were wondering how long he was going to last without pounding into you..;)

"Yes, sir" you answer obediently.

The first half was almost over and Pablo was holding himself back so well while you were not so successful at ignoring the fact that you were aching with his cock buried deep inside of you unable to move and relieve your pain.

You started to kiss his neck hoping to soften him up a little bit and make him fuck you during the break between the two halves but Pablo was set on teaching you a lesson. Damn stubborn!

"Not a chance princesa!" he cockily answered and now you were angry groaning and laying your head on his shoulder but away from him this time making him chuckle at your action.

During the second half the desperation turned into a literal pain that made you want to scream and cry and laugh all at the same time..you needed to move..just a little bit..maybe he doesn't notice??

"Mierda! They scored!" Pablo was angry now about Barça losing on top everything and you knew he will not be showing you any mercy if Barça doesn't menage to even the score.

Pablo suddenly moved to get more comfortable completely forgetting that you were still cockwarming him realizing it just as you moaned loudly at the intense pleasure that one movement made making you that much more desperate for more..fuck the pain for worse now!

"More..." you moaned into his ear desperately and he was amused.

"Too bad you misbehaved princesa...if you made me cum earlier like my good girl, you would have been rewarded with more right now.." he was mocking you at this point and your cheeks were red while your whole body felt on fire.

The second half ended..Barça lost..and Pablo was angry and frustrated...ideal combo to punish you in the most perfect ways...;)

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Something There (Chapter 1)

Ahh I'm excited to start this story! I hope you enjoy!

8.0k words Roy Kent x Reader Warnings: Language, brief references to breasts, enemies-to-lovers totally not taken right out of Pride and Prejudice, mentions of alcohol, me not knowing a thing about the Women's Super League and not letting it ruin my fun, Roy not being super excited about women's sports (but it's only because he's grumpy), Reader has a nickname

Series Masterlist

“What the fuck is a whippet?”

Rebecca stared at Roy as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “It’s a dog very similar to a greyhound, but smaller,” she explained simply. “And it’s the official mascot of W.F.C. Richmond.”

Roy, Beard, and Nate sat across from Rebecca, who was flanked by a very excited Keeley. Nate’s expression was wide-eyed and intrigued, while Beard looked pleased and almost proud as he listened to Rebecca’s news. Roy, on the other hand, sat there with his brow furrowed and arms crossed.

Not that the manager’s body and facial language deterred Rebecca; on the contrary, she was far too used to his sulky disposition. However, considering this was a project near and dear to both her and Keeley’s hearts, she had very little patience for his lack of enthusiasm today.

“Where’ll they be playing then?” Roy asked, doing his best to show the support that he knew Rebecca was craving from him. He respected her far too much- both as a boss and a, dare he say, friend- to let her think he didn’t care, not after she and Keeley had done a whole song and dance to present the news to the gaffers: a women’s team. A women’s team for Richmond.

Keeley and Rebecca exchanged looks. Keeley’s expression was one that involved raised eyebrows, as if to say You tell him. Rebecca’s, with her mouth in a straight line, communicated something more along the lines of Shit, do I really have to tell him?

With a deep breath, Rebecca turned back to Roy. “Here, of course,” she answered, her voice steady and nonchalant, seeming to presume her response was obvious to everyone in the room.

Roy furrowed his brow, the corners of his mouth dipping downwards. “But we play here,” he said dumbly. His mind raced. Holy shit, is Rebecca selling us? Is it because we didn’t come in fucking first last year? It was my first fucking season managing, no one could have expected-

“We’ll be sharing the facilities,” Rebecca answered, interrupting the thoughts racing through Roy’s head faster than he used to run on the pitch. Her voice reminded Roy of the voices of Phoebe’s teachers: patient, calm, explanatory. It made Roy feel small.

Coach Beard leaned forward. “I can help Higgins set up a schedule of who gets to use things at certain times, so we don’t have to worry about being on top of each other,” he offered helpfully. Roy knew his assistant coach was trying to distract Rebecca from Roy’s less-than-excited response to this news.

Nate quickly got on board. “Have you hired a manager then?” he asked with a smile.

Rebecca’s shoulders relaxed. At least two of the Richmond coaches were reacting the way she’d hoped. “I have. Another American, actually,” she chuckled, winking at Beard. “Feels like we need at least two of you running around Nelson Road.”

Roy decided to do his best to follow the other men’s examples. “What’s his name? Maybe Beard knows him,” he joked.

“You can read all about her here,” Keeley quipped, handing Roy a folder branded with that familiar red and blue rearranged around an outline of what Roy initially thought was a greyhound. Internally, he quickly corrected himself; it was a whippet. “This is a little report on W.F.C. Richmond just to give you boys some more info,” Keeley continued, passing identical folders to Nate and Beard. “A bit about the manager, her assistant coach, some of the players, things like that. Just so you all don’t look like proper fools in front of her when she pops in tomorrow. Reading it would be a grand idea.” Keeley gave Roy a scolding glare; they both knew that Roy was not one to read reports, even as manager, a fact that drove everyone insane.

With a huff, Roy nodded. “I’ll read it, I’ll read it.”

Everyone knew that was a fucking lie.

~

I looked around my new apartment- flat, Keeley Jones kept calling it in that accent I had to stop myself from grinning at- and smiled. It was definitely bigger than my old place, and I wouldn’t have to share it with any roommates. Sure, it was in a whole new country where I didn’t know anyone, but that was fine. This was fine.

Alright, so I’d sort of miss being on the same continent as my friends and family. But this was such an incredible opportunity that I simply couldn’t pass up. Rebecca Welton was wealthy, and the salary she’d offered me was more akin to what the coaches of men’s teams made back in the U.S., not what we made in the women’s league. The chance to build a program from the ground up was a thrilling challenge I was dying to sink my teeth into. England’s passionate soccer culture- football, I reminded myself- was something I’d found lacking back home, even amongst my own family and friends. And, more than anything else, I jumped at the opportunity to leave and not look back. I was ready for something new, and different, and far away from the places I’d called home for the past few years.

The vibration from my phone tore my attention away from the redecorating I’d spent the afternoon doing, enjoying my last day of normalcy. I grinned when I saw the name on my phone.

“Coach Lucas,” I greeted. “What’s up?”

“Hey,” the familiar voice on the other end answered. “You settled in alright?”

Lucas Austen was the one piece of home I’d brought with me. We’d been pals since my days playing college soccer, when he was our brilliant assistant coach. While he was the first to admit he wasn’t much of an athlete, the man was a great coach, who’d found himself promoted to head coach of our college team a few years ago and even had the men begging him to switch to their side but declined in favor of leading my alma mater to multiple national titles. When Rebecca Welton had asked me about potential coaching staff during one of our million Zoom sessions, Lucas was the first name out of my mouth. She didn’t hesitate to sign him after hearing my gushing reference. And, incredible friend that he was, he didn’t hesitate to say yes.

I could picture his smiling face as I plopped onto the couch. “All good. Yourself?”

“Peachy keen,” he assured me. “Want to do something tonight? Not too tired to go out?”

“Let’s see.” I leaned back and hugged the fluffy pillow I was positive Keeley Jones had selected herself. “Sit inside all night and fret over starting a new job in a new country or go out and actually enjoy that new country? Tough choice.”

His laugh eased some of the anxiety in my chest. “Pick you up at six.” He paused. “Six London time,” he added jokingly.

We hung up, and I gave a little stretch, thinking about how insane we were for doing this- something we’d heard a lot in the last few weeks. If nothing else, Lucas and I were going to have a grand old adventure.

~

Roy sighed and gripped his beer tighter. He’d really let Jamie talk him into going out with him. Even worse, he’d let Jamie talk him into going to a club. Roy hated clubs; but to be fair, Roy hated most things, including Jamie. But the young player had promised his coach they’d have a good time and, more importantly, that there would be alcohol, all paid for by Jamie.

And sometimes, free alcohol was all Roy needed to hear.

So, there he was, leaning against the bar, pretending it was because he looked cool and intimidating and not because his fucking knee was bothering him. Again. He wondered how much longer he’d have to stand here before he could leave without Jamie turning into a whining twat.

“Excuse me.” A woman squeezed by Roy and gave a little wave to get the bartender’s attention. She let out a frustrated little huff when she was ignored. “Dammit.”

Annoyed at how close she was to him, Roy cocked his head. “Oi!” The bartender quickly turned in their direction. “She’d like some fucking service!”

In a flash, the bartender was getting the woman’s order and set to work making it. While she waited, she glanced up at Roy.

“Thanks for that,” she called over the music. “I’ll have to learn how to use my voice like that. Might come in handy at work.” There was a joking lilt to her voice.

If Roy had been paying attention, he would have been caught off guard by her distinct way of speaking, and if he’d been in a good mood he’d have even asked where she was from. Instead, he gave a little grunt and a nod, turning his gaze back to the dance floor, where Jamie had disappeared with some gorgeous girl.

Drink now in hand, the woman nodded to Roy. “Thanks again.”

Roy ignored her as she walked away. He glanced at his watch. 9:30. About his bedtime, and Jamie’s too if the prick knew what was good for him. He was in training, after all.

As if he knew his coach was looking for him, Jamie appeared, adjusting the stupid pink headband he’d worn because it matched his fucking shoelaces.

“Oi, don’t you think the bar can hold itself up, Coach?” Jamie asked good-naturedly, nudging Roy. Roy only grunted in response, so Jamie continued. “Get yourself out there. Dance. Live a little.”

Stuffing his free hand into his pocket, Roy rolled his eyes. “Yeah, me, dancing. Sounds fucking right,” he huffed. “Just let me sit here and drink my beer, yeah?” He spotted Jamie’s dance partner, who was clearly waiting for the young footballer to return to her. “Go on, poor girl’s waiting.”

A smile crossed Jamie’s face. “Cute, eh?” He nudged Roy again. “Go on, let’s find you someone. What about that girl I saw you talking to right now? She was fit. Ask her to dance.”

Roy rolled his eyes. “No fucking thank you. I don’t need some young thing in a tight outfit trying to grind on me just so she can go tell her friends that she danced with Roy fucking-”

“Who said I wanted to dance with you?”

Unnoticed by Roy, the woman had returned to the bar, her face and voice both sour now.

Jamie put on his best smile, clearly trying to diffuse the thick awkwardness that even he could feel. “Hi there!”

The woman paused, quirking an eyebrow at Jamie. “Hey yourself.” Her eyes flickered to Roy for a moment before returning to Jamie. “Your buddy always this friendly?”

Jamie nodded towards Roy. “He’s just awkward around pretty women,” he tried. “He really does want to dance with you.”

“No, I fucking don’t,” Roy blurted out before thinking, thankful, for once, for the stupidly dark lighting in this club for hiding his slight blush.

The woman’s eyes lingered on Roy’s face for a moment, something turning behind her eyes, before wheeling back to Jamie. “As charming as your friend is, I’ve got someone waiting for me. Maybe teach him some manners, hmm?”

In the back of his head, Roy noted that she was pretty. Really fucking pretty. Her eyes sparkled with a teasing gleam, even with her annoyed tone, and her red lips formed a perfect smirk that a younger Roy would have tried to kiss after buying her a drink.

 But he was too embarrassed and annoyed to think about that right now.

Roy sighed, damning himself for how fucking rude he could be sometimes. “Listen, I just don’t want to fucking dance-”

She shook her head and waved him off. “Hey, it’s not like I was dying to dance with someone trying to dress like Johnny Cash,” she quipped, gesturing towards Roy’s totally black ensemble. “I was just grabbing some water. Not every girl walking around a club is dying for some guy to hit on her.” Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Even if he’s-” She stopped herself, shaking her head. “Never mind.” She nodded to Jamie. “Have a good night.” She glanced back at Roy. With a small hum of amusement, she grabbed a water bottle off the bar and was off.

Roy watched as she approached a guy, probably about his own age, and whispered something in his ear as she handed him the water bottle. The guy, his eyes widening for the briefest moment, looked over at Roy and Jamie, then back to the woman. They both broke into fits of laughter as they went off, probably to find somewhere far away from Roy and Jamie. Mostly Roy.

Jamie clapped his hand on Roy’s shoulder. “Looks like she’s got a fella. Tough break, Coach,” he said with a sympathetic click of his tongue.

Roy glared at Jamie. “Fucking asshole,” he mumbled, taking a swig of his beer.

~

“Alright, here we go, it’s just the most important day of your life so far,” I murmured to myself as I stared at my reflection.

Lucas and I were due at Nelson Road, our new home, within the hour. We’d finally meet Rebecca Welton face-to-face after hours of Zoom meetings, get a tour of the ‘Dog Track’, see our new offices that we’d be sharing with the men’s side, and get to meet the men’s team, the Greyhounds.

Considering that this was the first impression I’d make on everyone, I opted to dress up a bit. Some nice black slacks, a dark blouse my mom had bought for me as her own misguided way to wish me luck before playoffs one year, and a pair of heels. As I put on some bright red lipstick and pondered whether I looked badass or clownish, I heard a knock at my door.

Lucas raised an eyebrow at me as soon as I opened the door. “Shit. I should’ve known you’d be dressing up.” He wore a pair of Dickies and a button-down shirt; not sloppy, but definitely a step down from my style choice.

“You’re fine,” I assured him with a huff. “I’m probably overdressed if we’re being honest.” I took off the blazer I’d been debating all morning. “There, a little more casual?”

He shrugged, an amused grin on his face. “I mean, you look great. You’re the head coach, not me, you should look professional on our first day. They’ll all see you in sweatshirts and shorts soon enough.” He gave a small nod. “Nice color by the way.”

My hand flew to my mouth. “It’s not too much?”

“Nah, it’s just enough.” He gave a little nod towards the door. “Shall we?”

Not wanting to deal with walking directions on our first day, we opted to take a car to Nelson Road. The ride was much quicker than I expected, and I felt my stomach knot up as I grabbed my messenger bag while Lucas paid the driver.

I’d seen photos of the stadium, having made countless Google searches as the big move got closer. But now, being there in person, everything suddenly felt so real. This was it; my new home, where I’d get to help make history- hopefully a history we’d all be proud of.

A man in glasses waved to us from the entrance as soon as our car took off. “Good morning!” he called excitedly.

The moment I realized who it was, I couldn’t help but smile. “Leslie Higgins,” I laughed. As we approached, I resisted the urge to hug him. We’d seen Higgins in almost as many meetings as Rebecca Welton, and I loved him. He was kind, silly, and went above and beyond to make sure Lucas and I would be comfortable during the transition we were about to face. I knew already that he’d provide a father’s touch as we settled in.

Lucas high-fived Higgins as we approached. “Leslie, what’s shaking?”

Higgins chuckled as he shook my hand. “We are so excited that you’re here,” he gushed. “Honestly, we’ve been twittering like little birdies all morning. Tweet, tweet!” He nodded towards the entrance. “Let’s head on up to Rebecca’s office first, hmm? She’s so thrilled to finally meet you.”

We made our way inside, with Higgins cheerfully asking us about our flight, our new living arrangements, how we were adjusting to the time change so far. It felt like chatting with an old friend, and I was so engaged that I barely even noticed we’d arrived at Rebecca’s office. The door was wide open, so Higgins gestured for us to go on in.

Dear Lord, she’s freaking tall,I thought to myself as I finally stood in Rebecca Welton’s presence. She was exactly who I’d met on all those Zoom calls: gorgeous, poised, dignified, confident, and, more than anything, warm. Before I could extend my hand to her, she’d already wrapped me in a hug.

“Welcome to Richmond!” she gushed before letting go. She cleared her throat and straightened her skirt, furrowing her brow. “That wasn’t weird, was it?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Just a smidge. But it already feels like we’ve known each other forever, so it’s fine.”

It was true. We’d spent so many hours talking on video calls, and on the phone, and even more emailing and eventually texting back and forth, plus I’d done some light online stalking, so that Rebecca felt like a dear friend at this point. Each time we spoke, I felt more and more excited to come to work for her and help her build something special.

“My turn!”

I was smothered by a blonde vision in pink and squeezed like a teddy bear. “Hi, Keeley,” I sputtered out, returning her embrace.

Keeley Jones had been the first person I’d spoken to about any of this. She’d called me, seemingly out of the blue, and gotten straight to the chase, telling me all about how impressed Richmond was with my career as both player and coach and oh would I be interested in leaving the United States, moving to England, and helping build their brand-new women’s team? Her bubbly charisma and enthusiasm had stopped me from laughing into the phone and hanging up, chalking it up to some joke. Instead, I let her reel me in until I was walking into work and handing in my resignation, saying tearful farewells to the incredible athletes I had come to love like sisters, those goodbyes even harder than the ones I said to my family and friends. But the tiny blonde with the fast way of talking had charmed and emboldened me to do this terrifying, thrilling thing.

Lucas quickly shook hands with the two women, escaping the displays of affection that they’d shown me. I glanced at the chairs behind the women, assuming we’d sit and chat for a bit before anything else.

But Rebecca had other ideas.

“Does anyone need a water before heading downstairs?” she offered, gesturing towards her fully stocked bar. “Or tea? I know it’s not your country’s favorite, but…” She trailed off, waiting for an answer.

“I’ll take water,” Lucas said, filling the silence.

“Uh, I’m good,” I murmured, shaking my head. The only thing I could focus on was getting started.

Rebecca quickly handed Lucas a bottle of water and gestured to the door. “This way.”

She led us out of her office and downstairs, excitedly chattering about the men’s team, about the amazing coach who helped build the club into what it had become (a fellow American, she was excited to tell us), how much she adored the current coaching staff, and how she knew they’d be very helpful to Lucas and myself.

“Now, I know it’ll be a bit of a squeeze, having two clubs in the same facilities,” she went on as our little group continued its stroll. “But I know we’ll all just do our best, hmm?”

Lucas spoke up, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. “Oh yeah. If it’s anything us Americans are known for, it’s sharing and selflessness.”

Everyone gave a light chuckle as we entered the locker room.

Two men stood in the middle of the room, decked out in A.F.C. Richmond gear. Rebecca quickly introduced Lucas and I to them.

“And this is Coach Beard,” she said, pointing to the one wearing a baseball cap. “And Coach Nate Shelley,” she continued, gesturing to the other man. “Coach Beard is from America as well,” she added with a tiny smile.

It took a moment for everyone to shake hands and offer awkward hellos and nice to meet yous.

Rebecca looked around, frowning. “Where’s-”

“Fuck, fuck, sorry, I was-”

A bearded man in dark clothing jogged in, looking absolutely ragged. His gaze darted around the room at everyone as we all stared back. When his eyes landed on me, they widened.

“Oh fuck.”

~

It was her. It was fucking her.

Roy felt like crawling into a hole and dying. He felt like turning around and running out of the room and not stopping until he reached Scotland, or he collapsed, whichever happened first. He felt like his knees were about to give out, and not because he’d just sprinted through the building, which he knew was a stupid idea. More than anything, he felt like a fucking idiot.

Standing in front of him with one eyebrow arched in amusement was the girl he’d talked to at the club. The one he’d been admittedly rude to. She looked so put together in her outfit and heels and red lipstick, while Roy was in his Richmond shirt and slightly sweating from dashing in from the pitch after he’d finally seen Keeley’s text to come to the changing room. He felt like an even bigger arse than he did the night before.

Rebecca cleared her throat, cool look on her face. “And this is our manager for the men’s side, Roy Kent.” She gestured to the woman and man- who Roy now recognized as the one she’d been giggling with at the club- and told Roy their names.

The woman stepped forward with a small smirk on her lips. “Roy Kent. Nice to officially meet you.” She extended her hand towards him.

Furrowing his brow, Roy reached out and shook her hand. “Right. So, you’re the-”

“First-ever manager of W.F.C. Richmond, yes,” she finished for him. She gave his hand a small squeeze before letting go. “I’m glad to report that I survived the pain of being rejected,” she half-whispered.

Rebecca’s eyes darted between the two as the man- Lucas, apparently- held back laughter. “I’m sorry, have you two already met?” Confusion filled Rebecca’s question.

“Hmm?” The new coach turned to Rebecca. “Kind of. We bumped into each other last night while out on the town. I received a very warm welcome.” She raised a mocking eyebrow at Roy before looking back at Rebecca, all friendly smiles. “Should we continue?”

The group- Rebecca, Higgins, Keeley, and the Americans- exited the changing rooms through the offices, with Rebecca explaining how they’d be sharing: the Greyhounds in the larger office, the Whippets in the smaller one, since there were only the two of them. As their voices faded and left the offices, Beard gazed at Roy’s pale face carefully.

“Alright there, Coach?”

Roy grunted. “Was a bit of an ass when we bumped into each other at a club last night,” he admitted. “Didn’t fucking know it was her.”

Beard’s brows furrowed. “So, you didn’t read Keeley’s report.” Not a question; a statement. He gestured for Roy to follow him into their office, now holding three desks, and handed him the W.F.C. Richmond folder Keeley had given them, Nate trailing in after them.

Roy flipped through a couple of pages before finding the manager profile Keeley had probably worked hard on writing. Sure enough, there she was: the woman from the club smiling up at him, her name in big letters at the top of the page. The profile contained information on her college career, her time as a professional player, her success as a manager in the American women’s league, even her Olympic and World Cup appearances. Definitely not just some “young thing” trying to get five minutes of fame by flirting with him. Roy felt like a right prick skimming her remarkable career.

“She’s really impressive,” Nate chirped, as if it needed to be said. “We could probably learn a lot from her, hmm?”

Tossing the folder back on Beard’s desk, Roy gave another grunt, refusing to admit his embarrassment. “We’re fine,” he responded in a short tone. “Let’s get back out there, alright? I left Isaac and Jamie in charge, so they’re probably having a fucking break-dancing contest at this point.”

~

Lucas and I sat at my dining room table eating the dinner he’d brought over. It had been a busy day; touring Nelson Road, meeting the staff, making sure contracts were signed and players were ready to start training at the end of the week. The next day, we’d be going in for a press conference to introduce ourselves to the public. To prepare, I was drinking the largest glass of wine I could pour.

“Are we gonna talk about it?” Lucas raised his eyebrows at me.

I put down my glass. “Talk about what?”

Lucas rested his face on his hands, gazing at me like a gossiping teenager. “Roy Kent.”

“What about Roy Kent?” I took another gulp of wine. “It’s not like we’re going to be coaching together. Does it really matter if I like him?”

“Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” Lucas hummed, earning a glare from me. “Hey, I’d be pissed too if he was rude to me.” He took a bite. “Can’t believe he didn’t know who you were.”

I shrugged and went back to my food. “Clearly the man didn’t read his report. I mean, he had to get one about us, right? We got one about them.”

I’d spent about half my flight to England reading and rereading the packet Keeley had sent us about A.F.C. Richmond. It was great: a short history of the team, a bit about each member of the coaching staff, brief player profiles. A perfect way to get to know our new neighbors before moving into Nelson Road. Not that I hadn’t done a little research on my own as soon as Rebecca sent me an official offer to lead the Whippets; indeed, I’d done a particularly deep dive into Roy Kent’s Wikipedia page and watched more than a few clips of him on YouTube, fascinated by his career and transition into coaching. Heck, I’d even pondered if maybe we could become friends eventually.

But he’d put a nail in that coffin at the club.

Whatever. Like it even mattered, I told myself. All I had to do was exist in the same space as the man, no more, no less. And I could handle that.

Right?

I’d get to find out the next morning. Again dressed professionally and deciding to continue rocking that red lipstick, I carried a small box of things into Nelson Road. Since the press conference wasn’t until late in the morning, I had decided that I could take advantage of what would probably be my last bit of free time to set up some things in my office, while my assistant coach opted to relax and take his time getting ready.

As I entered the locker room, several players were already in there, in various states of undress. All of them nodded or waved in friendly greetings, having been introduced to Lucas and me yesterday. They had been extraordinarily enthusiastic, especially considering they now had to share their stadium. I waved back, noting the big smile on one Jamie Tartt’s face- the one who’d been with Roy Kent at the club, the dreamy star player I’d read all about. I grinned at the men, relieved that at least they were friendly.

On the other hand, when I entered the coaches’ office, all talking ceased immediately.

From his seat, with his feet atop his desk, Roy Kent glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, his mouth in a perfectly straight line beneath his beard. He’d been saying something to the other two but had halted as soon as I entered. I raised my eyebrow at him in response, feeling like those muscles in my face would be getting a good workout in the coming weeks.

“Morning,” I hummed, mostly to Beard and Nate. Nate waved cheerfully while Beard gave a friendly salute. Only Roy continued to ignore me.

Before I could step through into my new office, Nate’s voice called out, “Got your press conference today, right?”

I turned over my shoulder and looked at him, a little surprised by his friendly tone and the genuine interest on his face. “Yeah, not til later this morning though. Figured I’d set up some things in the office, make myself at home.”

Beard leaned back in his seat. “If you need help with anything, just ask. We’ll be in the weight room this morning.”

“Thanks,” I said with a nod. Okay, so not all the Greyhound coaches sucked. That was good to know.

I strolled into my new office, wrinkling my nose when I realized my desk had a direct view of Roy Kent’s desk, where he continued to avoid looking at me. Ignoring my observation, I set down my box and started pulling things out, arranging them the way I’d had them in my old office: soccer ball-shaped pencil holder a friend had bought me back in high school, framed photo of my family, my first ever AYSO trophy.

My heart skipped a beat when I pulled out a frame. It held my prized possession: the Sports Illustrated cover featuring Brandi Chastain, on her knees, black sports bra exposed, celebrating her penalty kick that won the 1999 World Cup, signed by the woman herself. It had hung in my bedroom, my college dorm, and eventually my office. It had served for many years as motivation, as something I aspired to. Now, it was my daily reminder of why I loved coaching- to help others achieve their big dreams.

I looked back in the box. Crap. I’d tossed in a couple nails but had forgotten to grab a hammer.

“Hey, Coach Beard?” Clutching the framed magazine, I poked my head into the Greyhounds’ office. The only one in there was Roy, who was thumbing through a notebook and mumbling to himself.

His eyes flickered up at me. He gave a small grunt of acknowledgement and went back to his notebook.

I sighed, not surprised by his lackluster greeting. “Do you guys have a hammer? I’m trying to put something up.”

Still not even glancing at me, Roy walked around to one of the other desks, yanking open a drawer, and pulling out a hammer, slamming it on top of the desk. “There,” he muttered.

“Thanks.” I stepped over and grabbed the hammer. Deciding to play his game of not looking at each other, I let my eyes flitter over to the wall behind his desk. I choked a little trying to hide my laughter. “What the fuck is that?”

Roy’s eyes followed mine to the… anatomical drawing behind his desk, a black strip of tape over it. “My niece drew it,” he answered matter-of-factly. “She’s eight.”

My eyebrows flew up. “Your eight-year-old niece drew the best tits I’ve ever seen in my life?”

A snort flew out of Roy’s nose, the friendliest noise I’d heard from him. “And just how many tits have you seen?”

Unable to help myself, I smirked. “I was a professional soccer player,” I reminded him. “I’ve been in plenty of locker rooms with other women.”

“Is that why you’re hanging that thing in your office?” He gestured to the magazine in my hands.

I raised an eyebrow at him and scoffed. “That’s Brandi Chastain,” I answered plainly. “She’s an Olympic gold medalist.”

“Right.” His steely gaze finally met mine, sending a jolt to my system that I did my best to ignore. “American, I assume?”

“Obviously,” I answered, feeling that defensiveness I had as a kid, arguing against the boys on the playground about whether I could play sports with them at recess. “Only the best women’s soccer team in the world.”

He snorted again. “Can’t be that great if you can’t call it the right fucking name.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, unsure if my tone was friendly or defensive. “Oh, I’m sorry, where’s your Olympic gold medal? Because mine’s in my living room, but I could bring it in if you’d ever like to see one in person.”

Something in his face changed, effectively ending the almost-nice interaction we were having. “Leave the hammer when you’re done,” he mumbled, turning and trudging out of the room, not looking me in the eye.

“Alrighty then,” I mumbled to myself, twirling the hammer in my hand. With a shrug, I turned back to my office, wondering if Roy Kent was capable of having a civil conversation.

~

Roy lumbered into the weight room, where Beard and Nate were supervising various workouts. His body felt heavy, and his chest felt tight. The Dog Track suddenly felt too crowded, too filled with her and her ego. That was it: her cockiness. Roy found it off-putting. That’s what had him feeling so twisted. The feeling in his stomach had absolutely nothing to do with that red lipstick she wore or the fact that she smelled far better than any other coach he’d ever met. Like fucking vanilla.

Both coaches nodded to Roy as he approached.

He grunted in place of a greeting. “Sorry, someone needed a fucking hammer. And then couldn’t shut up about her fucking Olympic gold medal.” Roy ignored the fact that, if he had one, he’d never stop talking about it. Hell, he still managed to bring up his time playing for England in casual conversation whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Beard continued to observe the workouts, only half interested in Roy’s complaining. “What’d she need a hammer for?”

“To put up some poster or some shit.” He folded his arms, scowling. “Didn’t know we were allowed to nail things into the fucking walls. Thought we were supposed to use that putty shit. Not leave holes in the walls.”

Now he had Beard’s attention. “Roy, you’ve punched holes into the walls.” To punctuate his point, Beard nodded towards the patch of recently fixed wall that still needed to be painted over.

Trying to keep things light, Nate piped up. “What was the poster?”

Fucking really? “Dunno,” Roy grumbled. “Some lady footballer.”

Beard raised an eyebrow. “Mia Hamm? Megan Rapinoe?”

“Fuck if I know,” Roy muttered, secretly racking his brain for the name she’d mentioned. “Didn’t really care enough to fucking listen.”

Pulling his cap over his eyes, despite being inside, Beard let out a little hum. “I’m sure you didn’t.”

“Oi! Turn up the volume, bruv!” Isaac called from his treadmill. “Wanna hear this.”

The guys paused their workouts to turn their gazes to the television, where the W.F.C. Richmond press conference played on the screen.

Roy narrowed his eyes as he observed the way she was dressed, in her blazer and red lipstick. She looked professional. More professional than he ever looked at press conferences. He found himself wondering if that’s how she dressed for matches, and whether that meant he should dress better on the pitch too. And fuck, she looked confident in front of all those cameras. He had yet to figure out how to look that comfortable.

A reporter’s voice filled the room. “You just made a big move, leaving the NWSL to come start a brand-new team. Why’d you do it?”

She looked thoughtful. Almost pretty with the way her eyes lit up before she spoke. “Well, let’s be really honest. The United States has the greatest women’s soccer team in the world-” The reporters hollered playfully at her. “Hey, sorry, it’s true!” She chuckled. “So, we’ve got the best team in the world, World Cup and Olympic champions how many times over, incredible athletes. But no one cares. Over here, though, soccer is a freaking religion. It’s everything. I’m excited to be in a place where people love the sport as much as the players on the field do. Who love it as much as I do.”

There was a murmuring of approval among the guys in the weight room.

Except for one person. Roy scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Fucking soccer,” he muttered. “It’s football, fucking Yank.” He glanced at Beard, who shot him pointed look, reminding Roy of his own nationality. “Sorry,” he mumbled, properly shamed.

“What do you think you’ll bring to the new club? Why are you worth importing from the States?”

Roy snorted. Great, an opportunity for her to brag about herself.

Sure enough, a cocky expression crossed her face. “Is it cheeky or just plain arrogant if I say my gold medal and World Cup title?” There was good-natured tittering both from the journalists on television and among the Richmond players in the weight room. “No, actually I think in this case my coaching record really speaks for itself more than my time playing. I’ve been fortunate to lead my team back home to some great successes, and I’m looking forward to doing the same with Richmond.” She looked reflective for a moment. “And I’m young. I started as one of the youngest coaches in the U.S., in both men and women’s soccer. So, I can only keep growing as a coach. I’m only going to get better, get smarter. And this guy here?” She gestured to Lucas, who sat beside her, pride shining in his eyes as he watched her. “Incredible coach. Coach Lucas Austen has been the best kept secret in college soccer for years. I’ve played for this man myself, so I speak from experience when I say he’ll bring out the best in each and every player, as well as everyone lucky enough to watch his magic, most especially myself.”

Nate gave out a low whistle. “She’s fabulous to listen to. So at ease.”

Not willing to acknowledge Nate’s praise, Roy turned to Beard. “Are she and he… are they…?” He nodded towards the television, where the two Americans exchanged smiles as Lucas now sang the young manager’s praises, telling some charming story from his time coaching her.

Beard scoffed. “I doubt it, she’s not exactly his type.”

It took Roy a moment. “Oh. And is he… her type?” Roy couldn’t figure out why he was asking. He didn’t really care. Right?

“She’s dated men, if that’s what you’re asking,” Beard said, looking at Roy with skepticism. “There are straight and bisexual women in sports, you know.”

“I know.” Roy hated the way Beard was looking at him.

But apparently, Beard wasn’t done educating Roy. “And men and women can be just friends. Look at Ted and Rebecca. You and Keeley. Leo and Kate.”

“Leonardo DiCaprio is absolutely in love with Kate Winslet,” Colin shouted across the room, where he was leaning against a wall with Sam, eyes still glued to the television.

Roy scowled. “Back to your fucking workouts before I have Will shove all your boots up your arses!”

Poor Will, who happened to be strolling by the open door on his way to the boot room, picked up his pace, unsure if he preferred doing as Roy demanded or telling the manager “No”. Both sounded horrifying.

With the workouts resumed, Roy turned back to the screen, scowl deepening when his eyes lingered a moment too long on her smiling red lips.

“Are you bringing that nickname of yours over to this side of the pond?”

Her smile widened. “Only to make your jobs easier. ‘Coach Bucky gets lucky’ is a great headline.” She winked, a sight that caused Roy’s breath to stop for a moment. “Although I’d hate to think what else you all could find to rhyme with Buck.”

“What kind of fucking nickname is that?” Roy mumbled to himself, eyebrows furrowed.

As if reading Roy Kent’s mind, a reporter called out, “Where’d the name come from anyway?”

Wistfulness crossed her face as she paused for a moment. “My grandfather,” she answered quietly. She spoke slowly, hesitating for the first time. “When I started playing, he kept calling me ‘Plucky Bucky’, because of my positive attitude. Said he liked the way I never gave up when things got hard.” She let out a soft breath. “Silly. But my teammates and coaches picked up on it so….” She shrugged. “Coach Buck remains. It’s a nice reminder of the man who made me fall in love with the sport.”

Something tugged in Roy’s stomach at the word “grandfather”. Maybe it wasn’t such a stupid nickname after all.

“I think we’ve got time for one more question.” Keeley’s bright voice brought Roy’s attention back to the television.

A reporter piped up. “What’s your goal this year? Brand new team, are you just looking to get comfortable, get your bearings?”

The manager grinned, that cocky look in her eye again. “We’re not here for comfortable. We’re here for greatness.” She cleared her throat, smirking at Lucas before facing the cameras again. “We’re looking to be the first Richmond team to win the whole damn thing.”

~

Keeley, Lucas, and I exchanged high-fives as we walked out of the press room. Doing press conferences wasn’t unusual to me at all, but doing one in a new country was a bit overwhelming. But Keeley had prepared me well, and the journalists weren’t as intimidating as I’d expected. Of course, we’d see how they were once the season was underway and the Whippets were actually playing.

“You were great, babes!” Keeley assured me as we made our way to the coaching offices. “Seriously, if you do that in every press conference, you’ll make my job so easy.” She attempted an American accent as she continued, “We’re not here for comfortable, we’re here for greatness.” She shook her head. “Perfect soundbite!”

Lucas nodded. “Especially that part about being the first Richmond team to win the whole thing? Excellent. Not sure if the guys’ll like it, but I loved it.”

I cleared my throat as we passed the weight room. “We’ll see,” was all I could manage. I hadn’t thought of whether those words would offend the men’s side.

“Oi! Coach!” Jamie Tartt poked his head out of the weight room. “Great job in your press conference!”

“Thanks,” I replied, unable to stop myself from returning his bright smile, which assured me that I’d at least avoided insulting him. “Glad you guys caught some of it.”

Another man joined him, his hair tied in a bun at the base of his neck. Dani, if I remembered correctly. “May we call you Coach Buck too?” His eyes shone with excitement.

His boyish earnestness made me laugh. “Um, yeah, if you guys want to.”

“Sick!” Jamie interjected, sticking his tongue out. “Roy never lets us give him nicknames. Although I like to call him-”

“Oi!” I ignored the way Roy Kent’s gruff voice made my heart skip a beat. “What the fuck are you two doing?” He marched over, his scowl only growing when he saw me. He turned to his players. “Is our fucking training interrupting you two ogling over the shiny new toy?”

My own brow furrowed as I stepped closer to him, our quickly reddening faces inches away from each other. “Shiny new toy?” I sputtered, feeling his breath against my face and not caring that he could feel mine or if he could hear my heart slamming against my chest. “Wait a fucking-”

“Stop distracting my players,” he continued, his eyes dark. At this proximity, I could see the laugh lines on his face, evidence that he actually knew how to smile. “Worry about your own fucking team.”

Before I could say another word, Keeley hooked her arm through mine and gave a tug. “Alright, coaches, lovely chat but we should get going,” she hummed, clearly trying to diffuse whatever the fuck was happening between me and Roy Kent. “Greyhounds, we will see you later, yeah?”

With a deep grunt, Roy turned back to the weight room. “Whistle!” he bellowed. “Everyone on the pitch! Jamie’s leading you in fucking burpees!”

The sound of groaning filled the halls as Keeley yanked me away, Lucas on my heels looking amused. Keeley didn’t stop pulling until we were back in my office; the walk had done nothing to calm me down as Keeley leaned against my desk. Lucas sat in his chair, watching me with raised eyebrows. My pounding heart felt as if I’d just sprinted from one goal to another.

“Well, that was fun,” Lucas finally said in a light tone after watching me pace silently back and forth for a minute.

“Yeah, what was that?” Keeley squeaked. “I know Roy can be a bit rough. But that was…. interesting.”

Lucas smirked now. “I think someone’s still mad Roy Kent didn’t recognize her at the club. And didn’t want to dance with her.”

That broke my silence. “As if,” I scoffed, folding my arms across my chest indignantly. “I wouldn’t dance with Roy Kent if he was the last man on earth, with his fucking black clothes and fucking growling and-”

“Wait, wait, what’s this about a club?” Curiosity covered Keeley’s face.

Before I could answer, Lucas spoke up. “Alright, so we went out the night before we started here, just to relax a bit. And this one went to grab a drink and ran into none other than Roy Kent himself.” He chuckled. “And Kent had no idea who she was, he thought she was just some girl who wanted to dance.”

I cleared my throat. “To be fair, it took me a moment to realize who he was too. Stupid dark lighting and all.”

Lucas continued. “Then she overheard him tell Jamie Tartt, that, oh what was it?” He looked at me expectantly.

He’d finally gotten me to crack a smile. “I don’t need some young thing in a tight outfit trying to grind on me just so she can go tell her friends,” I growled, doing my best impression of the man I now officially couldn’t stand.

Even Keeley snickered. “Shit, that’s pretty good!”

“And he just kept digging himself into this hole,” Lucas went on. “Until finally, she compares him to Johnny Cash, says she’s not interested, almost tells him she knows who he is but decides not to give him the satisfaction, and struts off.” He wrapped an arm around me. “Then of course she surprises the hell out of him the next morning. Leaves him with his jaw on the floor while she’s cool and collected. It was stunning, truly.” He gave me a squeeze. “Plucky Bucky indeed.”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, fun story, but no, I’m not bitter about not being recognized. I didn’t even get recognized back home when I was on a World Cup winning team, it’s hard to expect people here to give a shit who I am.”

“They will,” Keeley piped up. “You start winning, they’ll care. You’re gorgeous and charming and a world champion. And an American to boot, that’s always amusing. All you need now is a winning record on this side of the pond. Rebecca and I think you’re going to put W.F.C. Richmond on the map, and hopefully raise interest in women’s soccer in general while you’re at it.”

“No pressure,” Lucas added with a chuckle.

I sighed. This move was hard enough; leaving behind my home, my country, my family, my team. Leaving behind things I’d spent years building. And now, I was in a brand-new country, building something from scratch with wonderful strangers and the one person who knew me better than anyone else. Add to all of it the burden of being a woman in sports and the desire to have people take it seriously, and I was already feeling the pressure.

And Roy fucking Kent wasn’t helping with any of it.

[chelleztjs18]

I Just Feel You (W.M)

Avenger Fem Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Summary: When things go downhill after a mission but revelations arise.

Warning: hurt/comfort. pain description. Let me know if i miss anything.

A/n: Hello! I'm back. This fic is from 2 requests combined. I tried to write it as short and fast as i can but turns out it wasnt that easy. hahaha. I didn't really proof read this fic so i'm sure there'll be some errors in it. Thank u @honey-sweet-hiraeth for helping me brainstorming. Thank u my curious george anon for the summary line. :D Thank you @stonemags for helping me checking and give me some corrections. These are the requests for this fic. Happy reading!

Main Masterlist

The snow surrounding is mostly untouched. The further it is and the higher it is up to the mountain, it looks all perfectly sparkling white. Silence dominates the air.

That was a little while ago, before you and your Avengers team mates came to attack one of Hydra secret labs and warehouses and the fight has been on for a while.

The sounds of gunshots, the screaming Hydra's army try to fight all of you and even some explosions are now breaking the silence.

“Okay, we already got all the vibranium they have here. Everybody try to get back to the jet now.” Steve instructs everybody through the comms.

“I still need to go into their computer system in the north building to hack the bomb that they set in Sokovia's main city.” Stark explained as he flies in the air at high speed.

"What about the detonator? One of Strucker's guys has it and he's running away with it to the east side." Natasha reminds everybody followed by a grunt as she fights the enemies in front of her.

"Somebody needs to get him before they blow it as their plan." The blonde super soldier directs his thoughts in the middle of throwing his shield at the gunman who tries to shoot him. “I can go to where the detonator at as soon as I’m done moving the vibranium to the jet. “ Pietro offers his help as he runs super speed, knocking down three more Strucker’s guards.

“Y/n, why don’t you teleport there?” Yelena mentioned.

“I got Strucker locked in my target. I’m ready, Cap.” Clint informs through the com while pulling his arrow back and ready to shoot as he waits for his cue on the west part.

“Yelena’s right. I can teleport to get the detonator. I’m almost done with this big guy here.” You agreed and fought the last tough enemy you got in your assigned part of the building.

“No, y/n. Your power is new, you don’t have the control on teleporting where you want to go yet.” your girlfriend reminds you about your new power.

“No, don’t worry, Wands. I have been practicing with Yelena and I have been controlling it pretty good.” you disagree. “Y/n, don’t listen to my sister. Listen to your girlfriend.” Natasha backs up her best friend, Wanda.

“Y/n, don’t do it. I will fly to him now.” Wanda tries to leave you no room to argue no more.

“Wanda’s right, y/n.” Tony sided with your girlfriend as well and just like that, the comms line gets chaotic with the team agreeing and disagreeing with the plan while fighting whoever comes in front of them, kicking their ass.

“Trust me, y/n has been doing good. It’s about time to try it in the real field. What worse can happen right?” Yelena expresses her support for you.

“She can get hurt! Y/n, you better not do it!” Wanda warns you in a stern tone this time.

“Cap, what do you wanna do with this bastard? A helicopter just landed, he’s running away. Shoot him now?” The archer asks once more. Your and your teammates' voices overlap each other.

“Yeah, shoot him.” Steve answers.

“I’m gonna do it now.” you decide despite Wanda’s warning.

Clint let go the arrow, targeted the running Strucker and just like Wanda said, you showed up in the opposite direction you wanted.

You gasp as you feel Clint’s arrow force through your upper abdomen near your ribs, luckily the new technology on your suit managed to block his arrow before it hits your vital organ. It was impressive but it hurts you good. “Wait, y/n! What the hell just happened?! Clint asks in such shock and confusion of what he saw from the top of the hill.

"I just got hit by your arrow, Clint. Fuck! That hurts." You tried to get up but you couldn't.

Confident that none of the Avengers are close enough to get him now, Strucker noticed what happened and looked down at the wounded you now. “Ah, I remember you. You finally got your power. Teleporting, not bad. I’ll come back for you, to finish what I started on you.”

His heavy voice in a malicious evil tone made its way to be heard by you causing fear to show up out of nowhere in you. Your body starts to shake a little and you feel colder than a few seconds ago. Your legs weakened from your trauma. Vivid images of memories flash rapidly, sending shivers to your bones. You were one of Hydra’s experiments before The Avengers saved you and recruited you to join them.

The wound makes it hard for you to move and all you can do is respond to him in agony. “No, you won’t! We will get your ass, Strucker! And stop you from doing more experiments on those poor people, you son of a bitch!”

“Can anybody go where they are? Clint, can’t you shoot more arrows?” Tony talks in concern.

“That was my last one.”

“I’ll take care of y/n.” The Maximoff twins said the same things at once.

Strucker didn’t say anything else and walked away shortly after he left with a confident smirk on his face to get onto the helicopter.

Pietro and Wanda came at the same time but too bad Strucker got away.

You hear a thud as Wanda lands. "Detka, what were you thinking?? You are hurt now." She sounds upset as she leans to you to check your wound.

"Hey, Wands. I'm okay. Don't worry. Ouch!" You replied as you flinched when the red magic tendrils wrap you and lift you up.

"Come on, ya goose. We gotta make sure you are okay before my sister gets mad at you." the silver haired twin teases you, knowing how angry Wanda is right now. He knows how protective and possessive she is of you.

"Love, are you mad at me?" You ask as you are floating into the quinjet as everybody else is already waiting in silence, they know better not to say anything when Wanda is furious.

“Not now, Y/n. We’ll get you first aid at the compound first, then I’ll talk to you.” Flat yet irritated was the red haired witch’s tone. You can see Natasha hit her sister’s arm as soon as she tries to talk to avoid more tension that she caused earlier.

“We’ll be at the compound soon in less than an hour.” Clint announced.

_____

Big thanks to Stark’s technology inventions, your wound will get better faster than usual. Wanda walks out of the meds room as soon as you are done and scurries to your shared bedroom. You try to catch up with her steps. “Wands, are you mad? You didn’t say a word to me the whole flight back” She ignores your question and keeps walking. You keep following her.

As soon as she walks into the bedroom, she slams the door before you even get the chance to get in. You open the door and walk in. “Seriously? Slamming the door? What’s your problem, Wanda? What did I do?”

She turns around to you and glares at you before she finally breaks her silence. “What the hell were you thinking?! Teleported when you can’t control it yet! You could’ve died, y/n!”

”But I didn’t, did I?” Trying to loosen up the tension, you joke around a little bit but oh boy you realized it was not the smartest thing to do right now. Wanda’s annoyance flares and she simmers with anger. “You seriously did not just say that, y/n! Argh! You never take anything serious, don't you? You don't take me seriously, or our relationship or even your life! I thought you would change but I was wrong." she snapped. Her voice started to raise. Her heart pounding and her muscles quivering.

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Where the hell did all of that come from? I don’t take you seriously? And our relationship? Wands, I’m committed to you. You said that you thought I would change? change to what? You never mention anything about this. You are all over the place now babe.” You responded as confusion showed up in your face.

“Oh don’t you babe me, y/n! I’m not all over the place!” Wanda refuses your words after stopping herself from walking back and forth. Tension is for sure escalated.

“Oh yes you are. First you didn’t talk to me in the quinjet, then you got mad because I was being reckless in the mission and then about me not being serious and never changing? What the hell?!” you added.

"You are childish, y/n. You know that, everybody knows that. " Wanda keeps arguing back at you. Rage bottled up inside her.

"I am younger than you but I'm not childish! What did you mean everybody knows that?" You deny her upsetting words wholeheartedly. "Well, if you weren't childish, you would’ve not listened to Yelena and teleported then get shot with Barton’s arrow! You always put your life in danger! You didn’t care about yourself or me.” Both you and Wanda start to yell at each other.

Anger clouded the two of you and mixed feelings slowly built up. “Always?” You genuinely ask but to Wanda, it’s like gasoline to her fire of rage.

“Yes! Always. You seriously forgot you almost got killed when you tried to kill the giant alien by yourself just so you can win your stupid bet with Yelena?! You know what, y/n, I’m dating you but I feel like I’m more babysitting you and I’m sick of it! I can't do this anymore." Wanda rambles in frustration as both her hands shoves her hair back off her face.

Your heart drops when you hear the last words she said. Tears start to pool in your eyes but you try hard to keep it in and swallow the lump in the back of your throat. "W-what did you mean? Are you breaking up with me?"

This time it was Wanda's stomach turn to churn hearing your question. She is as speechless as you are and doesn't know how to answer you but unfortunately, her silence was enough for you. WIthout saying a word, you walk away from you and proceed to pack your backpack.

The now bewildered Sokovian twin looks at you and asks “Y/n, what are you doing? Where are you going?”

“Anywhere but here. Apparently, you need some time to think and so am I. I’m going for a walk. Do not wait up.” You answered with a shaky tone, avoiding any possible eye contact to happen as you pick your pace filling up your backpack with your clothes and belongings. 

"Do not wait up? So you are not coming home? Where are you going to stay tonight? Y/n, don’t go." Wanda rambles her questions while trying to hold back her tears and anger at the same time..

"Natasha is staying at her parents house. So I'll stay there and hang out to clear my mind." You answered and in a split second, it turns Wanda’s sadness back to anger again.

"Oh I see. Yelena is there too. That's why you are going there tonight, right?" Another accusation forcing its way out through Wanda's words.

"What are you talking about? I'm going there to think and talk with my best friend, Nat and also for you to have your space to rethink what you just said. I'm starting to think, what is the main issue here? Is it about you being overprotected, about me being childish, or what?"

You wait for her answer but Wanda’s lips are shut. She refused to say what her main issue was. “I guess we both really need some time to calm down so we can discuss this together.” You quickly turn your head away from her so she wouldn’t see your tears and with heavy footsteps you leave Wanda alone.

_____

The next morning, Wanda looks for you as soon as she wakes up. She rushes to any room in the compound yet she has no luck in finding you.

Her steps bring her to the dining room, hoping that you are there having breakfast with the other teammates like usual. She catches the two Russian sisters in her eyesight instead of you. Her heart shakes and her stomach churns. Her instinct tells her something is not right.

“Nat, where is y/n?” puzzled yet alarmed, the brunette Avengers asks the redhead.

“I don’t know. Why? Didn’t you two go to your room together after we got back last night? Wands, is everything okay?” Natasha answers in perplexion. Her eyebrows furrowed.

“We uh had some argument last night and she said she needs space to think so she told me she was going to your parent’s place last night because you were there.” Wanda explains while avoiding eye contact with Yelena. Her throat feels thickened.

“No, I didn’t get any text or call from her and she didn’t come to see me either.” concern starts to rise inside both Natasha and Wanda.

“That’s weird, she didn’t answer my text last night and this morning. Did you try to call her yet?” Yelena chimes in.

A quick deep glare from Wanda goes straight to Yelena. “I’m still not talking with you because of yesterday.” Wanda responds coldly.

“Wait, what–” Yelena quickly questioned Wanda’s statement but was interrupted by Natasha right away. Natasha understands her best friend's reasoning on getting mad at Yelena.

“I’ll inform the others to start searching for her. Something is off.” Wanda nods at the idea as three of them get up and start doing what they know what should do next.

_____

Like an hourglass that is almost running out of its sand in it, the hours of the day are almost over. All the Avengers have been doing their part to find you but they still got no luck until this second. Wanda has been worried sick. Tony has been doing the best he can to hack anything he could to track you.

“Barton, did you find anything?” Steve asks Clint from the comm who is looking for you from an aerial view in the helicopter. “None, Captain.” Clint answers right away.

“I’m sure it’s all Hydra’s doing. Clint told me that Strucker talked to her before he ran away that day.” Wanda lets out her thoughts, her eyes red from crying for you.

“Not to mention she was one of his experiments.” Natasha added.

“Why doesn’t she at least try to teleport?” Yelena asks genuinely in confusion and gets another sharp stare from Wanda, as sharp as a dagger.

“Strucker probably use this thing that can block our power or weaken it if it’s put on around our neck. They put them on Wanda and I before and trust me, that thing hurts a lot..” The speedster Maximoff twins explains as he recalls the traumatic past of theirs.

“Then it will be hard to find her, we gotta hurry up so we won’t be too late.” Iron Man adds with a concerned tone.

Everybody forces their brain to think so they can find a way to get you back. Silence roaming around at the compound, Wanda’s heart wrenched and her body leaden. She keeps thinking and thinking but then she remembers one thing. One thing that only you and Wanda know about.

“I know a way to find her. I will try to telepathically communicate with her.” Wanda breaks the silence and everybody turns their heads to her instantly.

“Y/n can telepath?” The blonde captain asks.

“She has telepathy power this whole time and she didn't tell us?” The Stark company CEO looks surprised.

“We weren’t sure if it was a new power she developed or not. We thought it was more of a connection we have. She didn’t want to tell everybody until she was sure and knew how to use it.” Wanda backs you up with her response as tears roll down on her cheeks..

“Boys, that’s totally understandable. I’m sure she would eventually tell us about it. Now, Wanda, can you try it now? Try to feel, or talk to her or whatever you can do with it? We need it, to save your girlfriend.” Natasha endeavors in cutting the conversation short, leading them to focus on the most important thing. Her green eyes locked with Wanda’s as she holds the side of Wanda’s arms and tells her to start trying to feel or sense where you are at but mostly, if you are still alive.

With that, the brunette witch nods and she closes her eyes, focusing her mind on you.

_____

You were woken up with a huge splash of ice cold water to your face and a heavy voice startled you at the same time.

“Wake up! You call yourself an Avengers but you keep passing out and can’t handle the pain?” A mocking laugh and tone echoes. You slowly open your eyes, your vision is blurred as your eyes are adjusting with the bright light from the lamp above you.

Intense aching claws every single of your nerves. You flinch from the pain on your neck when you move your head to look around. You realized you are still at the same dark underground facility with the last time you were at. You have lost count how many times you passed out from the torment you are experiencing in just one night.

You are still sitting on a chair with your wrists and ankles are all tied up to it. You weakly try to get yourself out of it but it was all in vain.

“Let me go!” You demand with the last bit of the energy you have left. Your lungs painfully try to get some air for your whole body. A mix of blood, sweat and water flows from your head and rolls over your face.

“I told you, I will come back for you.” A familiar bone chilling male voice with a thick accent made its way to be heard. You know whose it is. All the coldness in the air wakes every little hair on your skin, the smells around you, the stinging pain forcing most of your pores and Strucker’s voice definitely takes the role as if it’s a time machine that brings you back to your traumatic life history.

“What the fuck do you want from me?!” You grunt in agony.

“You and your power. I made you, I gave you the power you have now so you will serve Hydra but you joined the Avengers instead and that pissed me off!.” a hard slap lands on your cheek and jaws.

You spit the blood from your busted lips. With the last drop of vigor you have in you, you try to teleport but shortly you scream in such agitation from the collar electrocutes your neck and you hear Strucker’s maniac laugh as if he is enjoying what he sees and hears.

“Aw, where are you trying to teleport? You can’t run away from me again.This collar can prevent you from using your power.” A fake sympathy wrapped with a mocking tone flows between his words.

The tall man turns his back on you and yells a command in a foreign language you don’t understand and shortly after that, you are injected with a substance that brings out a lot more affliction in your body.

In a split second, your whole life flashes in front of you. Your sad childhood, your painful past after Hydra kidnapped you for the first time, the time you joined the Avengers and the time you saw Wanda’s green eyes that made you fall for her hard and helplessly.

Vivid images of her smiles parading in your mind with her laughter filling up your memories, the way she calls your name and all the pet names. You need her, you regretted that you left last night. You wished you didn’t and solved the argument with her. You tried your best to fight all these with exertion. You want to…no..you have to come home to your girlfriend.

You scream your lungs out, forcing yourself using your power to teleport even though the collar strikes you hard with a high voltage wave and forcing more harm to you but a soft soothing voice in your mind speaks to you and it stops you from screaming. “Y/n, can you feel me? Where are you?”

“Wanda?” You mumble her name weakly under your breath. Your chest rises and falls. You look around slowly trying to see if Wanda came. Her voice sounds crystal clear yet her presence isn’t anywhere near you..

You try to focus on listening to listen to everything you can and you hear something that gives you a clue where you are at. You close your eyes to try to connect your mind with hers.

_____

Red magic wisp lights up Wanda’s eyes as they are flooded with tears. Wanda can feel how you feel. She heard a faint answer from you. It drags her down when she hears how weak you are and it all comes together when she feels your pain.

“Y/n…” sorrow closes up her throat and plunges her into despair. In one blink, her tears escape.

"Wanda..what's wrong?" Natasha asks in such an anxious tone.

"Sestra? Is y/n okay?" Her twin brother lets out a question right after Natasha's.

"Please tell me she's still alive." Yelena's slavic accents disguise her worry about your safety.

"She's okay but she is in great pain, the same pain we had." Wanda's glistening eyes look at her brother, showing her vulnerability to him.

"So it's true, Hydra has her. Did she tell you where they keep her?"  Pietro digs more information through his words.

Wanda nods in acknowledgement and says in a low voice. "She said Liberty."

Tony quickly commands his A.I to search for the clue Wanda got. “Hydra has an underground facility under the liberty statue, way under it. It will take at least four hours to hack all their security systems and connections before we can invade them and save Y/n.”

Wanda marches her way to the door.

“Wanda, where are you going? We have to wait.” Steve indirectly lets out a command to her. Wanda turns her head and she clenches her fists and with gritted teeth she refuses his order “I’m not going to let them lay their hands on my Y/n any longer, not even a second!” as she continues her steps.

_____

You almost lost your consciousness once more but you can feel Wanda more and more as if her presence is coming close. You close your eyes, focusing on your mind. Doubling your effort to telepathy with her. “I love you, Wanda. I’m sorry.. Please don't get hurt.”

You can feel heartache, her heartache to be exact. The only thing that keeps you up at this moment is her anger that you are feeling and her high hope for you to be still alive until she gets there.

As your head slowly faces down with the energy you have left while Strucker’s men do a lot more research on you, you hear a lot of terrorized men screaming. It caught your attention. The more you try to hear it, the more other sounds you hear. Sound of automatic guns’ ammo fired in the distance and a more screaming voice followed with many loud thuds echoing through the darkness of the facility.

You start to notice everybody who is doing the research on you starts to panic and more of Strucker's army come out with their firearms.

A blanket of fear covers them even though they are prepared for what’s coming or perhaps who is coming.

A few of the armed men are being thrown to the walls and to the enormous iron gate that stands tall protecting the room you are in right now. Some shots fired even a little explosion sound passed through the barriers shortly before more guards got thrown even harder. You are sure that they are all dead.

Silence takes over the air all of a sudden and everybody around you watches in fright. All the front row guarded men even take a step back. The wicked scientists start to undo everything that’s on you to take you away from whoever tries to save you.

The shadow that’s reflected on the wall moves closer and closer to the gate as steps keep repeating, showing that someone is coming.

You weakly chuckle. You turn your head to the men on both of your sides. “You are all screwed now. My girlfriend is here and I’m sure she is pissed right now. Trust me you don’t want to pissed her off.” you coughed between mocking words that you said.

“Shut up! We're gonna take you away. She will die before she can save you.” The skinny man disguises his fears with his threat as he unties the straps to move you to the gurnee bed.

The huge iron gate bent and flew abruptly to the guards that was caused by the strong impact of the red wisps and crushed most of them to death easily.

Guns, weapons and men are flying around. Some of them are slammed to the stone walls. Some of them are thrown so hard to each other and knocked down to the ground.

Then there she is, the woman you love walks closer to you as soon as she sees you. You never saw her this furious, her eyes light up in crimson.

"Hands off!" In such fury, she commands and before you know it the red tendrils cover her hands then go straight to the two scientists next to you.

You see them scream fearfully for their lives as they are floating under Wanda's power above you. In a millisecond you hear a loud crack from their bones she crushes.

Without a doubt, they are deformed and die. Wanda throws their body to the ground like they are just a crumpled paper trash.

You feel her pain, anger and sadness yet there's a relieved feeling in her that makes you smile when her eyes slowly turn green again and catch your gaze. In a quick flinch of her finger, the collar on your neck broke and fell off your neck. You try to walk to her but your legs give up on holding your weight and you fall.

Wanda quickly catches you in her arms then lets you lay on her lap as her arms prompts your body up. "Detka? Oh my god, are you okay? I'm here, you are safe now. I will get you out here." She hugs you tight and rocks her body gently with you in her hugs, in a glance of hope it will make you feel better and safer.

“Wanda, did you find her? Clint, Yelena and I are coming with the quinjet to help you.” Natasha informed her through the comm.

“I took all the guards down. I have her with me now.” Wanda replied shortly.

After she responds Natasha, she looks at you  and runs her hand on your hair. “I’m sorry, malyshka. I should've not let you go that night. I should've told you that I was so jealous of how close you are with Yelena." Her cry sounds shaky, full of regret and guilt.

You grunt in pain after you let out a little laugh. “Wanda, Yelena likes Kate Bishop, a lot. I– I’m helping her to set up a date with Kate.”

She looks at you perplexed. “What? She likes Kate? Not you?”

You smile weakly, holding the pain as you nod slowly. “I’m so sorry, Y/n. You got hurt because of me.” Her eyes show a huge remorse. “Sssstt.. It’s alright. You could never hurt me. I just feel you.” You stuttered in comforting her.

In a cry, Wanda nods quickly. Her lips quivered, her tears dropped onto you.

"I love you, Wanda."

"I love you too, detka."

You heard an explosion, breaking the old walls to make a quicker exit path to the quinjet for you. Natasha rushed to the both of you.

“Oh my god, y/n! Are you okay? We gotta get you out of here. Steve and Tony already take down the rest of the guards.” Natasha asks and carefully examines your injuries as soon as they get to you.

“I’m okay, Nat. Don’t worry.” You smile, deep down you feel that you gradually gain your energy back after seeing two of your closest people are with you now. Wanda carefully elevates you with her magic and takes you to the quinjet as Natasha and Yelena watch the surroundings.

You float in the air passing Yelena as you get into the jet. “Geez, y/n, you look like hell. We should get your ass back to the compound.” Yelena comments with casual remarks, trying to cover how worried she is about you then follows you and Wanda.

“What are you doing here? Don’t you have a date with Kate tonight?” You joked around as your face weakly forms a smirk at her. Your joke lured an eye roll from Yelena.

“She canceled it.” Natasha casually answers while busy giving medical treatment to some of your injuries.

“Why?” you curiously asked.

“Because you were nowhere to be found and were in danger. Don’t worry, Kate understands the situation." Wanda hears Yelena's answers. Her eyes jump around between you and Yelena.

“Don’t worry, Yelena. I will help you set up the date for you and Kate.” Wanda’s words suddenly jump into the conversation before you can even reply.

Wanda looks at the blonde and smiles as her way to subtly fix the tension that was created between them by her jealousy.

“Really? Thank you, Wanda!” excitement is in Yelena’s tone as she smiles back.

Natasha and her sister leave you alone with Wanda on the flight back. Wanda stays next to you the whole time, holding your hand and loving you with all her heart. She looks at you dearly.

You pull her hand and lay it on your heart shortly before you ask "Tell me what do you feel, Wands."

She smiles and says "I just feel you."

A/n: Welp, that's it for today. Let me know what you think. Reblogs and comments are appreciated. Follow me for more and see you in next!

Cheerio!

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[greenerteacups]

Hi GT, I hope you are doing well! who is your favorite Weasley?

Thank you! Absolute treat of a question. Oh, man. It's Ron, right? It was always going to be Ron.

So here's the thing: the Weasleys are a really well-characterized family in that you can kind of see a lot of character emerge through limited sketches and contextual information. Bill is Number One Boy, the best at everything, oldest child who was always confident and at peace with his indisputable place in the family; so he's a chill, cool, incredibly competent guy who naturally takes-charge. Charlie is a patented never-grew-out-of-your-middle-school-dragons-phase Weird Kid, but like, mindfully and enthusiastically so, because his parents probably still had plenty of time to support and nurture his interests; plus he's also different to Bill and excels in different ways, so they aren't too competitive (as we see). Percy is the first one to suffer from the pressure of mounting expectations, and he's very quickly followed by the twins, who do the classic "if I can't be the best I'll be the worst" late-sibling trick of acting up for attention, so he gets lost in the shuffle. (The fight between Ron and Percy in Chapter 58 is, hence, in substantially about the relationship between the two most-ignored members of the Weasley family, and that's why Ron is so much angrier at him than the rest of them. Like I've said before, Ron always thinks he's got it the worst, but he takes pride in being able to kinda "tough it out," and nothing pisses him off like other people's self-pity.) Ginny is obviously the baby of the family, a girl with everyone wrapped around her finger, and I love her, but I feel like we didn't get enough grit in her portrait— she's just really successful in everything she does, in a way that can read as flat to some people, and certainly read as flat to me my first time through the books. In fact, Ginny reminds me a lot of Bill: first daughter/first son, described often as "cool" and clever and good at basically everything, charming and generally liked by all. Which is lovely. A delight to read, just like the twins are. But my taste in characters ranges way more fucked-up and mean.

Ron is the last boy, "sixth son of a woman who wanted a daughter" (fascinating line that complicates everything we know about Molly's relationship with her kids — and BTW, how the hell does Ron know that, and how old was he when he learned it? And this also comes into play with Molly's cry of "not my daughter" to Bellatrix which like, as a moment obviously fucking rules, but also — there's a reason she says daughter, not "child," right? Do you see what I'm digging at? Anyway). Ron meets Harry and recognizes himself in how Harry defaults to thinking people don't care about him, or won't help him if he asks, because — although they come from very different circumstances, Ron's home was completely loving, just not as nurturing as he always needed it to be — Ron usually goes in assuming people don't care about him, too. So his first instinct is to go: "Alright. Well, I'll care about you, then, weird stranger. Do you want to share my horrible sandwich, and also my life, perhaps?" Goddamn! Sixth of seven in a house with never enough to go around, and he's immediately like: "fuck it, room for one more." Because he could have been Percy — and you can see it in the way that Ron is mean, sometimes, he's not careful with his words and he struggles with empathy and he's got a vengeful streak that comes out when he's pissed — but he isn't selfish enough, he loves too much and too easily, and it takes shockingly little to earn his loyalty. You just have to pay a little attention to him.

[friendly-neighborhood-boricua]

[7] Kindergarten Graduation

Summary: Liam graduates from kindergarten, and another thing changes in your life.

Notes: Marauders modern elementary school AU, kindergarten teacher!James Potter x nurse!single mom!reader.

A/N(18/8/2024): GUYS I FINALLY FINISHED IT!!!!! ok maybe not really finished, I think I may continue to add to this au as I think of ideas and please please please send me ideas/requests if you have any and I'll do my best to write them :) thank you all so much for reading my silly little story, I really appreciate all the love and support you've given me, even when I take months and months to update (sorry) all my love to each and every one of you <3<3<3<3

Previous Part: You Get A Visitor in the ER This is the last one as of right now! Click here for the series masterlist

Alright it’s taken a hot second

But we’re here guys

The end of the year!! *jazz hands*

The school year, that is

Liam has been getting more and more excited for summer break as the weeks pass by

You promised him that you’d visit your dad, whom Liam hasn’t seen since he was two because he lives so far away

You and your dad aren’t exactly the closest but you get along well and your son thinks grandpa’s the funniest thing since sliced bread

And it’s about time that you visit him anyway

But first, Liam needs to get to the end of the school year

And he has! Yay!

The administration at Liam’s school likes to put on a little graduation ceremony for the kindergarteners and the departing fifth graders, and that ceremony happens to be today

And it’s as if your car knows that you have something important to do today

Because she’s just refusing to start up

The engine makes a horrid whining-grinding sound when you turn the key in the ignition, and it makes you a little nervous that the whole thing is gonna blow

So you’ve resigned yourself to finding a different way to get to Liam’s school

Side note: you have the misfortune of being very anxious to get to events quite early in an effort to make sure you aren’t late, and you’ve definitely imparted that worry onto your son

Which means you have a nervous six-year-old switching between pacing back and forth beside your useless car and wrapping his arms around your thigh in an anxious iron grip

At least you’d left your apartment early, so there’s still some time to figure out a solution

You run through the list in your head: the school is close enough to walk to but it would take too much time, Tonks and her parents are at her own high school graduation so that’s obviously not an option, Poppy is working today so she can’t pick you up, and you absolutely refuse to ask anything more of Ms. Hope since she already does so much for you with Liam

The idea dawns on you to take an Uber just as the front door to your apartment building opens

And of course, a solution on legs walks into the parking lot

(Even if you don’t like burdening him by asking for his help)

James smiles as soon as he sees you and Liam

Liam’s face also lights up like a Christmas tree as he waves enthusiastically from his spot attached to your leg

You shouldn’t be surprised when James saunters over to you both to say good morning

And you especially shouldn’t be surprised when he offers help with your car troubles

(You were terrified slightly worried when James had left the ER that you’d crossed a line when you kissed his bandaged palm, and maybe you did, but James didn’t let it change your dynamic—if anything, he was just more and more happy-looking to see you every morning, and it was hard not to let his happiness spread to you too)

You refuse James’ help at first under the guise that his hand was still healing from that cut, but he just laughed and reminded you that he’d cut himself a month ago and his hand is perfectly fine

Which is how you’ve ended up here

The hood of your car propped up, Liam peering eagerly at the engine, James in a very nice-fitting crewneck t-shirt and formal slacks poking around inside the car, and you holding the suit jacket he’s planning on wearing to shake his kids’ hands as they walk across the gymnasium floor and blushing furiously as you try not to stare at the way the short sleeves of James’ shirt fit so nicely around his biceps

You’re plenty familiar with human anatomy, being a nurse and all, but jesus christ—

After a minute or two, James hums in understanding and Liam replicates the sound, trying to look where James is looking

You do your best to school your face, and you succeed for the most part even if you can’t really get rid of your blush

James explains to you and Liam that the bearings in your alternator have broken down and you sigh deeply

He says he’d offer to fix it but—he laughs a little sheepishly—he’s not the best with cars

Still, his friend Sirius, an administrative aide at Liam’s school, is pretty good at car mechanic stuff and James could probably ask him to do it

You aren’t super keen on agreeing (again with the asking for help thing) but either way, getting your alternator fixed right now isn’t a possibility because all three of us have a kindergarten graduation to get to, Mr. Potter

James’ eyes go wiiiiide lmao but you reassure him that you have enough time to get to the school just in time if you leave now

And of course he offers to drive you both there

You accept (not like you have much of a choice) and quickly find yourself on the way to Liam’s school with Liam in the back, sitting in James’ “emergency car seat”

(He explains that he keeps a kids’ car seat in his trunk in case he ever needs to drive a kid anywhere and that this is the car seat he used to drive Liam to and from school that one time)

(You feel alarmed and then thankful and then terribly guilty when you realize you’d never even thought about if Liam was sitting in a car seat that day)

After all that hassle, you, James, and Liam finally arrive at the school building and hurry to the gym, where the ceremony will be taking place

You send Liam down the hall with James with a kiss on the forehead (James thinks about asking for a kiss himself but thinks better of it) before going to sit in the rows of folding chairs set out for parents and family members

You sit with Molly and Arthur, the parents of Liam’s good friend Ron

Arthur is very jolly and cheery at all times and Molly, while occasionally judgemental, is usually quite kind

This graduation ceremony is very abbreviated just because six-year-olds can’t sit still for four hours like they would have to if this was a real graduation

The event starts with a few quick words from Principal McGonagall about how hard the kids have worked this year and how they deserve to enjoy their time off from school

Then it’s time for the kids to walk across the “stage”, which is really just a mobile raised platform

The principal calls a name, hands the child their very own kindergarten diploma, and sends them to have their photo taken with their respective teacher

James (now with his suit jacket back on) has a wide smile on his face as he stands with the other three kindergarten teachers

You cheer for Ron with Molly and Arthur as he walks across the stage to take a photo with his teacher, and when it’s Liam’s turn, Molly and Arthur (and Ron from the side of the stage) cheer with you

When the ceremony is over, Ron and Liam come running to you, Molly, and Arthur asking if they can go to the playground across the street to play for a while

Molly and Arthur agree to take Liam and Ron while you go let James know where you’re going and that you and Liam can walk home if he has somewhere he needs to be

It’s pretty clear from the look on James’ face that he thinks that even just the idea of leaving you and Liam without a ride is atrocious lmao

He just shakes his head like it’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard and promises to meet you at the playground once he’s done dealing with Draco’s overbearing parents

You laugh and nod in agreement

The playground across from Liam’s school is really fancy

The city built it pretty recently, so it’s tall with a merry-go-round and a tire-swing and metal slides that you’re sure sear children’s skin off on hot days

Liam and Ron are having the time of their lives already, and you sit with Molly and Arthur on a nearby bench under a tree

It’s easy to talk with them because they ask the same questions whenever you talk

How are you? Oh I’m good. How’s Liam doing? He’s good too. Everything good at the hospital? As good as it can be, yeah.

They’re easy to talk to but it’s difficult to relate to them sometimes

Molly and Arthur are so old they could be your parents, and they have seven kids, the oldest of which is only a couple years younger than you

But at the same time, they’re really rather cute

They’ve been married for who knows how long and they’re still so in love (even when Molly threatens to decapitate her husband)

It’s sort of inspirational in a way

Liam and Ron call over to the three of you saying they’ve found a frog under one of the slides

You sigh and get up, knowing Molly doesn’t want to see any sort of amphibian and Arthur has some back problems so he probably couldn’t bend down to see the frog anyway

By the time you reach Ron and Liam, Ron’s got the poor frog cupped in his hands, and you tell him he may want to put it down since it’s scared

Ron understands and finds a puddle to release the frog into

Molly, Arthur, and Ron end up having to leave pretty quickly

Their oldest is graduating today too and they need to make it to his ceremony, so you and Liam bid them farewell and promise to make plans to hang out over the summer sometime

James sees you being dragged by Liam towards the swings as he crosses the street towards the park

Neither you nor Liam realizes he’s there until he sits in the swing next to you

But Liam’s flying into James’ gut with the tightest hug ever as soon as he sees him

You laugh and James hugs Liam back and thinks to himself that this is just the best thing ever

He couldn’t be happier in any other place with any other people

Liam tells James about the frog and that somehow evolves into thanking him for being "the best teacher ever, not the bestest because of grammar"

(James thanks Liam for being such a good student, and Liam has the biggest smile after that)

Watching Liam talk to James makes a warm fuzz rise up in your chest

They’re just so sweet with each other :(

James is so attentive with Liam and Liam talks to James like they’re both adults and it’s just the cutest sweetest nicest thing ever

Liam decides to go searching for more frogs in the wooded park near the playground, and you and James are left watching him from the swings

It’s quiet for a little while between you and James, and James suddenly becomes starkly aware that this is the first time you’ve been alone together in the month since his ER visit

Usually you have Liam or maybe Remus, Sirius, or Ms. Hope as a buffer, but now?

Now it’s just him and you

But if there’s one thing James is good at, it’s making people feel comfortable in sorta uncomfortable situations

So he makes some cheesy joke about you being the parent of a kindergarten graduate, and you laugh along and say you couldn’t be more proud of your little boy

And just like that you two are talking like best friends again

You thank him for the kind note he wrote about Liam’s performance in school that he included in the report card from the most recent parent-teacher conference

He recommends a new kind of breakfast cereal you’d seen him buy at the grocery store a couple weeks ago

You update him on the gossip and drama between Poppy and your CNO at work

He thanks you for the black-and-white cookies you made for him as a thank-you for the oatmeal raisin cookies several months ago

You tell him about a large black dog you’d seen waltzing about in Ms. Hope’s front yard once

He asks you to check on the very-much healed scar on his palm (just to be 100% sure it’s not infected, you know?)

You laugh at his jokes and he smiles at your laugh, and eventually, you fall into a silence more comfortable than the last

Eventually, James speaks up

“Hey, um …” He sighs, unsure of how he wants to go about this. I mean, it’s fine now, isn’t it? He’s no longer Liam’s teacher; you’re no longer his student’s mom because Liam isn’t his student anymore. So it’s fine. Right?

“You alright?” you ask, brows pulled just slightly together in concern. James takes a long look into your eyes before turning and setting his gaze on Liam. Your son is crouched under a wide tree, eyes trained on the dirt and mud underneath in search of frogs.

“I … yeah, I’m alright,” James says. “I, uh … I … god, this is so much more difficult than I thought it would be.” He laughs quietly at himself in a way that’s a little too self-deprecating for you to approve of, but he starts talking again before you can comment.

“Okay.” James is firm in his resolve, but he refuses to meet your eyes as he speaks. “I—I’m gonna say something, and I’m not one hundred percent sure how you’ll react, so if I say something wrong or make you uncomfortable in any way, please—please—just tell me and I’ll never bring it up again, but I wanted to tell you how—how I’ve been feeling these past couple months and I hope you feel the same way—I think you do, but maybe I’m just reading into things—but I just wanted to say that, you know, I started to think of you as my friend when we started talking in the mornings, but as soon as I saw you at parent-teacher conferences I knew you were just the kindest, most hard-working, most beautiful person I’d ever had the honor of meeting and—and over the past year, I’ve begun to have these feelings that—but it’s been so hard because I would never ever voice them while Liam is in my class because that would be terribly unprofessional and completely unfair to you, and I just—” James heaves a breath, suddenly sharply aware of the fact that he hadn’t been breathing enough, and gasped for several deep breaths.

He looked into his lap with a self-pitying laugh. “I … sorry, I’m rambling.”

James dug the toe of his shoe into the wood chips, pushing his swing lightly. Why had he done this again? Liam was barely out of his class and he was already hounding after you. God, how desperate and creepy was that? He hadn’t even truly confessed and he was sure he’d already ruined every chance of you even talking to him again, let alone—

The crunch of wood chips made James wince. He closed his eyes, certain you would simply leave him on the swings without so much as a goodbye, until he heard your steps stop abruptly somewhere in front of him. Carefully, one eye peeked open, and he saw your ballet flats standing directly in front of his seat on the swings, facing him. He looked up.

James felt like he knew you pretty well at this point, but the face you were making was one he wasn’t familiar with at all. One moment he thought it was hope, but it would switch and look like fear next, then reluctance, then … was that excitement? Happiness? Eventually, you took a deep breath, shoulders squared and ready to speak.

“Do you like coffee?”

There was a moment of silence before James very eloquently responded, “What?”

You smiled—genuine this time, if awkward.

“I mean, if you don’t, that’s totally fine, I just … figured we could go somewhere to get coffee or—or tea, or a muffin or something before I go to work rather than just, you know, talking by the mailboxes.” You let out a meek laugh, and James feels his shoulders melt away from his ears.

“Do you like coffee?” he asks back.

“I’m a nurse—coffee is the only thing keeping me from falling apart at the seams,” you quip. James outright laughs, which makes you smile, which makes him smile.

“We can go for coffee,” he agrees. “I know a café that has muffins and stuff that’s pretty close to the hospital if you’d like to go there. The Leaky Cauldron. Have you been?”

“Oh, yeah,” you say with a nod of recognition. “Me and Poppy went there for lunch once. They have a rather nice quiche.”

“Alright, it’s a date—”

James’ eyes widen as soon as the words are out of his mouth, and he looks at you like he’s in trouble. The same look of reluctance and a drop of fear clouds your eyes once more, and James finds he loathes it. He prepares himself for the worst.

“I want to say, before we … before we move forward, there are some ground rules.”

James nods quickly, eyes wide as he peered up at you. “Anything.”

You try to strangle the blush that creeps up your neck at that.

“Well, really only one ground rule,” you amend. “No matter what, I’m Liam’s mother first. Always. He already likes you, which is part of the reason I offered to get coffee—I would never go out with someone he didn’t approve of—but when it comes down to it, he’s always going to be my top priority. No matter what.”

James’ eyes soften, and he nods, reassured.

“That was one of the first things I liked about you,” he admits. “Liam is your son—your world—and I completely understand that. I would never ask you to change that, or to think of me before him. Never in a million years.”

James watches your shoulders relax, and you take a small, relieved breath before nodding.

“Thank you,” you say quietly. James just smiles up at you, eyes adoring. You finally allow your own gaze to roam freely over his features, to take in his nose, his eyes, his lips.

You take a step closer, knees brushing lightly against James’ where he sits. Ever so gently, you reach a hand out of your pocket to brush a stray curl behind James’ ear, and your hand lingers there, fingertips brushing against his jaw. James is about even with your sternum, and he can’t help but love with all his heart how pretty you look from this angle.

Slowly, leaving plenty of time for him to pull back, you bend at the waist towards him. You don’t stop until his lips are on yours in a small, tentative kiss. It's gentle and the two of you scarcely move. Just a simple press lasting a handful of seconds before you pull back just enough to look into James’ eyes.

It takes a second for him to come back down to Earth, but you can see the moment when he realizes what just happened because his eyes seem to glow with a radiant sort of joy that has you wanting to kiss him again just so that look never goes away. He smiles broadly, and it must be contagious because you end up smiling slightly too as you slide your palm against his cheek and he reaches a hand up to cup the back of your neck. He simply holds you there for a moment before laughing disbelievingly and bringing your lips to his again.

This is the last one as of right now! Click here for the series masterlist

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Reflections in Last Twilight

Alright, I was not really planning on writing analysis on for Last Twilight, at least not this early in the game. But my dearly beloved @dribs-and-drabbles has called to me like Beetlejuice to analyze the use of reflections in this show. Which means i have been summoned, which means, it is time to bust out the meta. 

Now, having just looked back through both Episode 1 and Episode 2, there have not been that many instances of reflections in Last Twilight so far, though the ones we have had already are definitely memorable. So let’s get in to it. 

Episode 1

Intro Sequence

I’m not going to talk about the reflections off the fish tank here because the actual scene they are tied to comes in Episode 2 and I think there will be a whole lot more to say then. But I do want to acknowledge that we will be getting reflections at the beginning of every episode, and that Aof is already establishing the important symbolism of fish and jasmine. 

The first actual reflection we get in Last Twilight comes in the form of Mhok in the side mirror of  his sister Rung’s car.

Rung's car has been sitting in Pae's garage for a year at this point. It would be gathering dust if Pae hadn't spent time over the course of that year meticulously maintaining her vehicle. In fact, that is the very first thing we see happen in this workshop. Pae taking car of Rung's car in her and Mhok's sted. Taking care of this car was not his job, we can assume that he did not anticipate the time commitment that would come with maintaining possession of Rung's car while Mhok was in jail, but he has set himself up to task and gone, in my opinion, above and beyond what was expected of him by continuing to maintain her car.

Pae is surprised when Mhok hands him the spare key and says Pae can sell the car. Mhok at this point is in the anger stage of grief. He blames Rung for her death, and wants to absolve himself of the grief and guilt by maintaining the idea that Rung was to blame and to try to rid himself of any and all reminders of his sister. Mhok, as we know, is incredibly alone. His mother died when they were young, his sister has died, he is no longer associated with his friends/coworkers from his old shop after they all got arrested, and he hides as much as he can from Pae. Mhok has Phorjai and Phorjai only as any sort of support system, and she's his ex-girlfriend, so I don't think we need to go too in depth to acknowledge the complications there.

Mhok wants to forget his grief, his pain, and I appreciate greatly that Pae won't let him do that. That Pae knows Mhok enough to understand that the second that Pae sells that car, Mhok is going to regret letting it go. So he extends another six months grace period to let Mhok actually think it over. Mhok looks over the car, at the bandaid that Rung put on the little scratch she got her first day owning the car, in the glove compartment where all the handouts for her failed budiness are. And Pae allows Mhok a minute alone, in the dark of his sister's car.

At which point we get the reflection. Now, personally I think Jimmy has some work to do as an actor, which means it feels harder for me to accurately read Mhok's face/emotional state. But, for me, here, Mhok looks *tired*, but most importantly, he is trapped in the frame of the side mirror, he is stuck in the dark, and he is alone. In just one small frame, Aof is showing us the aspects of Mhok's character that will help him recognize himself in Day, and tell us why Mhok needs the relationship he has (or will have) to Day.

This is the only actual reflection we see in Episode 1. 

But I do want to comment on the end of the episode, like everyone else has, about part of the *The Little Prince* reading that Mhok does at the end. Namely the line "what is essential is invisible to the eye". 

I don't think, in a show with going blind as a part of its central theme that we really *need* to look deeper in to the significance/meaning of this line. But because I have been asked to talk about reflections, I want to go a little overboard on the line reading here. Because, day to day we can't see ourselves, right? We wouldn't know exactly what we look like if we couldn't look in to a mirror. Mirrors, reflections, are often a subject of insecurity, providing us the opportunity to pick at every flaw. In mirrors, dancers can watch and correct themselves, their body positions, tweak their choreography based on what they see that they normally would not be able to. Actors can practice facial expressions in the mirror, figure out how they have to hold themselves to make their emotions believable. In horror movies, mirrors show us what lurks in the background, in spy movies it shows us what exists around the corner. And in our deepest moments of guilt or shame, facing ourselves in the mirror becomes a challenge.

I don't want to get too ahead of myself on predictions about this show and what Aof is planning on doing with it, but personally I think the use of mirrors/reflections is a perfect way to show what is essential and invisible to the eye. Mhok is not looking at himself in the mirror here, and if we were standing in the room with him, we would not be able to see his face at all. But the side mirror of Rung's car allows us to see what Mhok is thinking and feeling. But he isn't looking in the mirror himself. He isn't and hasn't started facing or confronting his own grief, isolation, or pain. I don't know that Mhok is as of yet capable of seeing what he needs to change in his own life, because he hasn't reflected on his own life.

Episode 2

The first "reflection" we get in Episode 2 is not really a reflection, at least in the traditional sense, but I do still want to talk about it. I am of course talking about the selfie with Aon. 

Mostly because I wanted to acknowledge that to me, a photo is a kind of reflection in that you can both look back at yourself and also reflect on the memory of the time. To be honest, I don’t know exactly how I feel about Aon taking this picture of Mhok, because he takes it for the Society for the Blind. But how are they using it? Is this evidence that Mhok is here and doing what he said he will, or is this going to be used in marketing of some sort? Either way, it is capturing a moment in time that Mhok could one day look back on to reminisce about the beginning of his relationship with Day. 

And here Mhok is with someone else, a second person to accompany him where before he just had himself. But this is fake, this is quick, this is right after Mhok has just been shut out of all proceedings between Aon and Day. Mhok doesn’t know what’s happening before he is being told to smile for the camera. And if anyone were to see this photo, they would see a very happy Aon and a decently confused Mhok, but they would have no idea how limited a connection to Aon, Mhok would have had at this point. 

The next reflection is a bit difficult to see, but it comes during the conversation Day has with Mhok about the eye drops, where he explains he can see more clearly right after he uses them. In this scene, Day is talking to Mhok while keeping his gaze affixed to the lone goldfish in his increasingly grimier tank. 

Mhok and Day have a brief conversation about whether or not the fish is lonely since it is the only one in the tank, and Day brushes it off by saying that goldfish have short memory and that it couldn’t possibly be lonely. 

But, whenever we see Day on screen here, we see his reflection in the glass of the tank. And there are a few great moments during this conversation where the goldfish sits directly in front of Day’s reflection. To me it feels like a memory, a ghost, or a projection, and we know by the end of Episode 2, (if we haven’t picked up on it already from the title sequence or how heavily goldfish imagery has features in the promotional material for this show) that the goldfish is a stand in for Day himself. 

So I love the fact that we get this wisp of an image of Day’s face in the tank, like he’s trapped inside of it. Because we know that in a way he is. And the other thing I love about this, or rather about the fact that this goldfish is meant to symbolize Day himself, is that watching this goldfish is what brings Day the most joy at the moment. 

I love that because it shows me that there is hope and joy still left in Day, if he can just take the time to look at himself a little differently.

OKAY it’s time for the Big Boys. 

Our first instance of an actual reflection off a mirror in Episode 2 happens when Mhok is trying to check in with Day after Day runs away from Night’s friends. Mhok has said that he understands Day, and Day Does Not Like That™.

Day’s response to Mhok’s monologue is to say that Mhok has no idea what it is like to look in the mirror and not see your old self. And of course, we see Day’s reflection in his full body mirror. Now, again, Aof is being pretty heavy handed with his metaphors here. But that doesn’t mean I don’t absolutely love the double meaning of these words. Day is going blind so he literally can’t see himself in the mirror anymore. 

But also, Day is deep in his grief for the things he has lost. His freedom, his career, his confidence that I think he has morphed in to a completely different person. One who is bitter, and self-conscious, and more comfortable hiding away where he can wallow in misery over his condition and not have to confront the new world he is living in. Day is running from connection, I mean not a minute before this scene Day legitimately ran away from Night’s friends rather than have to explain his blindness. 

The scene continues, and Day shuts himself off even further from the world around him, by putting in his headphones. Now he can drown out Mhok’s attempts to comfort him, but in the long run what is that going to do? As @shortpplfedup said to me earlier “the set dressers did not come to play” when it came to designing Day’s room. When the curtains aren’t drawn there is so much natural light in Day’s room. His walls are bright and colorful, there are photos and awards all over the place. Day’s room has so much personality in it, so much life within it. But the mirror shows nothing. It shows Day alone, surrounded by blank walls in grayscale.

The costume designer made an excellent choice of shirt for this scene, by the way. Because the yellow blends in enough with the wall in Day’s room, that (especially) when coupled with the camera’s focus in this scene. The real Day almost fades in to the background, and your eye is naturally drawn to this spot of yellow in the mirror. 

The mirror highlights his isolation while at the same time showing the audience how much Day can and does stand out. 

AND it parallels the reflection of Mhok in Episode 1 so well, not just in the emotions that we see from Mhok and Day, but in the sense that Mhok’s reflection is in Rung’s car because he is currently trapping himself in the darker, meaner thoughts about his sister, rather than processing his grief. While Day’s reflection is in his room because he is currently trapping himself in the darker, meaner thoughts about himself, rather than giving himself enough compassion to start moving forward.

When Day does not respond to Mhok’s conversation, Mhok is triggered at the thought of his sister’s death and he breaks down the door to make sure Day is okay, and gets fired for it. Mhok does not argue, he does not put up a fight, he does not try to explain, he just honors Day’s request and gets the fuck out. And I love the way that Mhok is already starting to change Day’s outlook. Because we see how mopey Day is after Mhok leaves, and how much hope there is in him when Night tells him there is someone at the door who wants to see him and he so obviously thinks it’s Mhok. 

Mhok gives him the gift of the fish slippers, and Day goes to visit Mhok at the market, only to find out that Mhok has spent time reflecting on what Day told him about not understanding him, and making a fool out of himself in the eyes of the other market patrons by blindfolding himself. 

Mhok is doing what no one else has really done and is making a concerted effort to truly understand where Day is coming from, the fears that he is carrying, and the challenges he faces as a blind man. 

But of course, we know by now that while there are definitely things Mhok is had not or might never understand about the physical realities of Day’s life, he can understand loneliness, and he can understand rage, pain, and anger. There are parts of himself that have grown within him over the past year that recognizes parts of Day that have grown within him over the past year. 

And we have already been seeing the impact of Mhok on Day’s life, in the fact that Day has smiled more, Day has left his room, Day has eaten at the table, and agreed to watch a movie. And that singular day where Day did not wallow in his own misery, but left his room, went out in the sun, etc stuck with him because he is in the living room watching a movie the day Phorjai comes to visit. 

Culminating in the second real reflection of Episode 2, where Mhok, via the side mirror, sees Day smiling on the back of his scooter. And what I love about this moment is that the focus is entirely on Day. I don’t want Last Twilight to strip Day’s healing processes from him and give them to Mhok. I think it is totally fine for Mhok to contribute to Day’s increasing happiness, but ultimately I want Day to have enough autonomy in this narrative that these decisions that lead to him enjoying his life again are primarily comprised of Day’s own choices. And I think that we can get something visually from that by the fact that we don’t see a lot of Mhok in this reflection, only one small portion of his chin. 

Day made the choice to have Phorjai take him to see Mhok, Day made the choice to rehire Mhok, and Day is the one having a moment on the back of this scooter just reveling in the feeling of the wind on his face. I love that this reflection shows just enough of Mhok to show that Day is not alone, while still putting all of the attention in the reflection on to Day and the joy he is feeling. 

The idea that Day is no longer alone is reinforced after Mhok makes a pit stop to purchase a companion for the goldfish in Day’s room. And again we get in to some of my favorite instances of reflection in Last Twilight, where we place the boys’ reflections in the fish tank. 

And this is where the images from the intro sequence come from. Day looking at Day Noi and Big Mhok interacting with each other in the tank. Here we still have Day alone in the reflection, with the goldfish tying him to this symbolism. But Day’s reflection is so much clearer now that the tank has been cleaned. Now Day’s reflection in the water tank is far more obvious, and hey, since it’s me, I’ll overanalyze this moment to say that as Day has gotten to know Mhok a bit and has started venturing outside of his room more, that Day is getting a clearer vision of himself as a person. Regardless, we as the audience can see Day’s reflection in the tank all the more clearly and that reflection is vibrant and bright, because Day is becoming more vibrant and bright. 

“No More Loneliness Little Day” Mhok says and we get MY FAVORITE SHOT OF THE SHOW THUS FAR

The split screen. It’s not even a reflection, but I am talking about it here, because I think the absence of reflection is just as important as its presence, and I love that we have this moment where half of Day’s face is crystal clear and the other half is completely obscured. There is no trace of it. Considering how much Aof has been turning the camera on Day’s vision, we aren’t that far off of what Day sees in this shot. I like that this image has Day straddling these two worlds. 

And we get the final reflection of Episode 2, Mhok’s face in the fish tank. 

Again, I don’t even know that this is really intentional or it is just the way the reflection happened to have occurred, but I love the fact that not all of Mhok’s face is present within the fish tank. I like that Mhok is slowly encroaching on Day’s space, that Mhok is slowly starting to appear in the parts of Day’s life that Day actually cares about. Mhok is lonely and Day is lonely, and they have finally found someone they might be able to connect to. Big Mhok is there for Day Noi and Mhok is there for Day. 

I love that while the fish themselves are able to cross those barriers and that we get to see the fish swimming up and next to each other, that we have yet to see Mhok and Day’s reflections fully together. Even here, Mhok’s reflection in the fish tank is alone, just like Day’s reflection in the fish tank was alone. But they are in the same place, they are in the same room, they are in the same tank, they are in the same stage of their grief (anger) and there is no way in hell we don’t get one or more reflections in the mirror or in the fish tank by the end of this show where Mhok and Day are both fully present.