#very structured phrasing
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If I'm going to keep mentioning Lucretia Garfield's heartbreaking letter after James cheated on her during their engagement, maybe I should just share it.
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Cleveland, September 1, 1857
My dear James:
Yes, mine forever, though a destiny cruel and relentless separate us as far as the east is from the west. Whatever our earthly relations may be, we are one and belong to each other, and in view of this truth I no longer fear to reveal to you every thought. I know that my motives will be understood however freely I may speak. The fear which has so long sealed my lips that James might construe any expression of my real thoughts and feelings into a design on my part to gain my own selfish ends no longer haunts me. I believe that you trust me now, and I know that in my own heart has been awakened that confidence which brought such sweet peace to my spirit two years ago. James, do you know that it was the withdrawal of that confidence in me which pressed home to this grieving heart the keenest dagger! How many many times I have felt that if you would only love me just enough to come and tell me all, I could endure to know the worst; but to see you shrink away from me as though you could not endure my presence, and hide from me the truth, was almost more than I could bear. May Heaven spare me from ever living again such hours of bitter anguish. Pardon me for alluding to them. It is the last time. They have told upon my heart the lesson I trust they were sent to teach. Their mission has been fulfilled; let them pass unnoticed no longer. I would much rather rest with you beside Erie's moonlit waters and feel my heart throbbing against you own, while I talk to you tonight. But I will not wait until it may be so blessed before saying some things so long unsaid.
James, the bright ideal of life and love which are here held up before us was indeed very beautiful; but was it the true one? Can the human heart hear the tests to which it may be submitted by it? I had hoped it might. Indeed, I had almost, yes, entirely trusted that a love as pure and deep as I believed ours to have been could never never meet with anything that could possibly turn it from its course or prove ever the slightest interruption. I was telling Mother this and remarked that it might be an error. Her reply was that if there was no danger of any such thing happening if two loving hearts could find only in each other all that would satisfy, there would have been no necessity for the marriage vow.
May be it is so. If there could be no temptation, no danger of turning to another, why register in Heaven the vow of constancy? I blame you for nothing, for whatever you may have done I believe your heart's faithfulness; and allowed the generous and gushing affection of your warm impulsive nature to go out in all its fullness toward another than the one to whom you had pledged your all. All innocently as this was done, I can not blame you, and could the effect which all the past of our intimacy might have over you be blotted out, I would say to you this hour, go and marry Rebecca; and hereafter trust not your heart so far. Rebecca is a good and noble girl, in many aspects far my superior but she loves you no better than Crete. If, however, you love her better, if she can satisfy the wants of your nature better, and more than all, if you can with her become a good and noble man in spite of all the Past, Crete can give you up. And pronounce upon your Love a sister's blessing. You told me that judgment prompted you to another course, that to feel yourself an honourable, generous man you must take me alone to your heart. Let feeling dictate whatever it might. I have thought I could never allow that, that I could never be your wife unless every feeling of your heart seconded the decisions of reason. Perhaps I asked too much, but, James, to be an unloved wife, O Heavens, I could not endure it. I am not exacting. It would excite no spirit of jealousy in my heart to know that my husband admired and even loved a thousand others, and know that they possessed traits superior to mine, but I do feel it to be my right to claim this sole assurance, that I am his choice; and that however much he may find to be more admired in others he will not turn away from me to them, but rather seek to correct my faults, and make me like them. I want to find in my husband that strength of love, which can steel itself against every attraction that might come between us, which will hold me nearest his heart in spite of every impulse which an ardent nature might feel. Now, James, I freely pardon any error your ignorance of the human heart may have led you to commit, but I do hope whatever course you may take that hereafter you will be more guarded for your own happiness if nothing more. It pains me to see you so miserable as you are at times, and sometimes I feel that I could dare almost anything, even for the hope of making you happy again. But could I--could I become your wife and see that best hope fail! Oh no, no, no. If it would not fail, may God help me to know it. Then I will make the trial. James, write to me very soon. Keep nothing back that is in your heart
[Update about daily life that I'll spare you from]
Yours most lovingly,
Crete
#history is awesome#presidential talk#probably no one else cares about this but allow me my indulgence#writing this out led to various insights#first: how many drafts do you think this letter required? this is very coherent for an emotional letter#very structured phrasing#i doubt you write a letter like this all in one shot#also: i've solved the mystery of why they married when they both had such doubts#this letter is the letter of someone who wants the relationship to continue because they've got too much time invested#honor and all that#and maybe these nerds were a bit overeducated#spending so much time thinking about their relationship and not feeling#cuz of course feeling can go too far#but being too practical and dutiful brings its own heartbreak#and their relationship is exhibit a#at least until things get worked out#oh but also i gotta mention#i'm obsessed with 'yes *mine*' as an opening#kind of a power move
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#ok but fr marking undergrad essays is such a rollercoaster#i gave two very high marks today and was genuinely impressed and then the next three i marked were practically incoherent#one just copy and pasted their intro instead of writing a conclusion. like it's verbatim the same paragraph#i dont mark down for minor grammar and syntax errors because there's a high rate of ESL students...#... but some of the papers from native english speakers have me more concerned about functional illiteracy than I've ever been#these are 19-20yos in a humanities field at a top university! even the highest scoring essay had basic basic grammar errors and vocab misuse#at least i could tell what the student was trying to say there but some of the others...#if your punctuation and spelling and syntax are all so bad that i literally cant tell what you're trying to say there is a serious problem#even setting aside how many errors like these there were there's the flip side of the issue: actually writing an essay#the last one i marked yesterday had no structure or thesis or secondary sources#everything between the intro and conclusion was the same claim phrased in different ways with some irrelevant non sequitur quotes thrown in#no analysis other than the words 'analysis of this shows' which is *gasp* not a substitute for analysis#OH AND OMG#one made a direct claim about a figure's political stance and attached a footnote. i went to see what the student's source was.#the footnote literally said something like 'i know i should have a source here but it's only context and i don't want to waste my word count#like what???? do you think claims about relevant context don't need evidence??? and the audacity to not give a citation...#... and claim it's because it would take too many words away from your main argument??#just providing the actual citation for the claim would have been 3-5 words max but the footnote about not having room was 30 words#kid do you think i can't tell that you dont have that citation? do you think anyone's buying that you didn't include it to save space?#it's the very first footnote and most of the others are full-length bibliography entries jammed into the footnotes (which we don't require)#so either you were 'worried about space' at the first footnote then changed your mind as you wasted 250 words on unnecessary formatting#or you were over the word limit and were like 'gotta cut something!' and the only footnote you 'simplified for space' was a short basic one#^assuming i believed you. which i dont. because why would you think that would fool anyone.#i still have half the essays left. im tired and so disappointed in how little we're told we should expect from them
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finished reading "tell me I'm worthless," which was an interesting experience. I think there's something really good for you in your soul to be able to understand the genre conventions you're in and the kinds of structures and language and character that can be explored in these genres. I think about how people tend to -- with fiction about marginalisation and/or about people who are marginalised as a blanket whole, regardless of the story -- operate on a checklist of dos and donts, but mainly donts: don't ever tell us a deadname, don't ever use these "problematic" words to describe them/or have them describe themselves in this way, don't ever describe negative emotions or "problematic" emotions, don't let the characters have harmful traits (either towards themselves or others), don't hurt your characters at all actually, don't make your characters politically uncomfortable or "problematically" complicated in their political outlook and/or journey, don't make your characters be assholes ever, certainly don't traumatise your characters, and under no circumstance do you kill your characters!
which of course, this book does praaaactically every one of these things, thank goodness
#with the deadname Thing i am reminded of responses to the last of us part 2 and tbh also the latest doctor who specials#there's a kneejerk reaction as if writers/directors have outed someone's actual deadname or as if knowing that someone has#a deadname will invalidate them to a non-trans audience#lot of scar-tissue that aches around all of these points generally and horror has the ability to kick down the door on that and say#you do not have to read this story -- but this will be in this story. so if you are ready to approach these themes and these ideas#this is a safe structure -- the walls of a book or a screen or a play or an audio drama or wherever you are#my issues have very much been around social coding and not understanding what is and isnt allowed and an intense anxiety around#always saying the exact right thing at all times (not just in marginalised spaces but everywhere all the time)#(im doing it right now actually -- getting anxious about all this phrasing)#(this book is opening up pathways in my brain)#very much a meta piece as well -- it knows and acknowledges shirley jackson especially but ofc also angela carter and du maurier#and i did feel a smigeon of clive barker in there and then he was in the acknowledgements too#i have not read the last person listed so helen oyeyemi goes on the list#im reading books#alison rumfitt#tell me im worthless
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I keep thinking of how I want to taxonomize Siffrin and Loop bc it feels significant to me that Loop and Siffrin both have inherently diverged from the same Traveler Mold they came from. But because I am like a 7 year old I keep sagely nodding to myself going "ah yes... just like mega mewtwo"
#do u understand me. do u understand my vision#they're both siffrins they are just two pathways of how the same one guy develops through their experiences in timeloops#that are the same in basic structure but different in how they affected them#so like siffrin and loop are distinct people. but they're also just branches of preloops siffrin. much like mega mewtwo x and y are distinc#but they are also mewtwo#<-(said like this is somehow profound and not stupid)#liek do you guys get me... i think loop and siffrin are very much in sync#to the point where as seen in canon it's pretty easy for loop to divine what siffrin's thinking down to the phrasing#it's really striking how much loop talks and siffrin fullass does not reply but loop keeps on rollin just fine#but fundamentally they don't think the exact same way when it comes to bigger things#like how loop never fully accepts the idea of talking to the king as something reasonable to do#or how act 4 siffrin is in their own damn world while loop is left going. Stardust what the hell are you on (morose edition)#i think it's fun to find the gaps between them#i've always thought it would be fun. in a postcanon timeskip scenario#for loop to be. flatly worse at reading siffrin than they expect to be. because siffrin has been healing and trying to get better#while loop has been becoming steadily bitter as they tried and failed to cut the rope on their own attachments as some kind of last measure#of self defense against the pain of paving over their old relationship with the party with a new name new role new personality new stardust#to exist alongsides#likewise i think it's fun if siffrin overextends his new understanding of loop as being another self and the feeling of recognition for loo#is simultaneously comforting and Tremendously grating coming from Fucking Stardust#especially if siffrin just assumes shit wrong cuz for as much as hes the only guy who can relate 2 being trapped in a timeloop for months i#was not exactly the same now was it.#isat spoilers#Sorry this is a lot of thinking outloud on a post where i call loop and siffrin mega mewtwo x and y
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Genuinely I cannot take the phrase "de-centering men" seriously anymore.
#like. if you take the words individually at their objective meaning then yes. we SHOULD not just Automatically Make Everything About Men#we SHOULD get rid of the expectation of men as the '''default'''#but it seems like everyone I come across who uses this phrase exclusively uses it to be mean to women who are attracted to/date men#like. okay you take a phrase that is MEANT to talk about not only thinking in terms of men and use it to. shit on women.#cool. very feminist of you.#some real Supporting Women Solidarity there#I swear so many of these people do not. actually like women.#they either want to look Radical™ or they just hate men.#and I don't mean that second one in the sense of 'buT tHe mEaN fEmiNiStS!!11 :(((' I mean that in the sense of 'what is the point#of being a feminist if you don't ACTUALLY CARE ABOUT and have sympathy for and actively prioritize rights and self-determination#and safety for women?' like what are you doing. why are you here. what are you hoping to accomplish for the people#who are ACTUALLY AFFECTED BY SOCIETAL AND STRUCTURAL MISOGYNY!!!!#the point I'm trying to make is that hating something doesn't automatically equate to support of something else. and my priority here#IS SUPPORTING THE 'SOMETHING ELSE' IN QUESTION. NAMELY WOMEN'S RIGHTS.#AND YES BECAUSE WE LIVE IN A HELL WORLD WHERE I HAVE TO CLARIFY EVERY TIME LEST THE T/RFS THINK I'M ONE OF THEM:#WHEN I SAY WOMEN I MEAN ALL WOMEN. WHICH OBVIOUSLY INCLUDES TRANS WOMEN. BECAUSE THEY ARE WOMEN.#NOT 'WOMEN LITE' OR 'WOMEN ADJACENT' OR 'WOMEN CONDITIONAL'#WOMEN. PERIOD.
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are there any apps/websites out there that actually teach you a language?
#duolingo does not teach you a language. it gives you some phrases to memorize.#that is very different than being taught the alphabet and grammatical structures and how the language itself works.#i want to learn languages!!#duolingo will not halo me do that.#i need something formatted to TEACH.#unityrain.txt#language
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Amadeus (1984), dir Miloš Forman
#i need you guys to at least see my favorite scene of the movie. it's capital#i need you to know that it was music finished as no music is every finished displace one note and there would be diminishment displace one#phrase and the structure would fall it was clear to me what i had heard in the archbishop's palace had been no accident here again was the#very voice of god. i was staring through the cage of those meticulous inkstrokes at an absolute beauty#amadeus 1894
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this is what it’s like inside my brain all the time. it’s like having a conversation with someone in a restaurant and when you stop talking you suddenly pick up on the other tables conversation, which you weren’t paying attention to, but knew was happening. and there’s music too
#this is not an exaggeration my mind is very busy all the time#the secondary conversation and music are involuntary#it’s currently in japanese#and the music is usually something i heard in a video that was catchy or a song i just paused#i can stop them but i have to do concentrate on making my mind quiet#also it’s not a dissociative identity it’s just brain noise#i can tune into one by pausing the layer above it#so when i’m thinking (i think in full sentences the same way i would speak. some people are different) i’m aware of the other 2 happening#but i’m not paying attention to the details#and then when i pause my active layer i can pay attention to what is being said under it. but i don’t really control what it’s saying. and#i can hear the music behind a little better#and then when i pausd both conversations i know what the music is#the secondary conversation is usually a bunch of unrelated sentences or phrases. i have tuned into it counting before. and another time#it was having some sort of structured thought pattern#i dunno. i’m curious as to if anyone else does this#lmk
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okay tgcf-readers, help me out: how is the official translation? How does it differ from the most popular fan translation we had for a while? Better/worse?
#sorry i don't remember the name of the fan translation but i read what i understood to be the biggest one#i was ASTOUNDED by their dedication and grateful for their work but i found the prose very unpleasant to read#i think it focused on preserving word order and phrasing from the original Chinese to the detriment of English flow#and i know that's a line to straddle and all translators have to make choices#about how much 'localization' -- for lack of a better word -- they will do with dialogue#and how much they will put toward preserving the original sentence structure vs making a sentence that sounds natural in the target language#so for me PERSONALLY i found the fan translation painfully awkward to read#and I'm curious how the official one compares#tgcf#tian guan ci fu
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LOOK!! ^^
[ image desc: a taken picture of a physical copy of the book Herkes İçin Yapısal Yolla İtalyanca (Structured Italian for Everyone) by Asım Tanış. // end id ]
#it belongs to my classmates father! she let me borrow it for today!#i got to look into it a little at school and got to page 51 out of excitement - its really well phrased and teaches well!#i already knew most of the concepts covered so far but i /did/ gain some new vocabulary knowledge‚ which is great#it's fascinating! i wonder how far i'll get into it in just one day. probably pretty far#im quite surprised myself as to how much this is exciting me‚ but i can't help it... the similarities are very fascinating#i've also found that it clicks much better into my mind when im learning italian through turkish! unlike duolingo‚ which teaches it in -#- english.#of course‚ sentence structure difference between turkish and italian does make it a tiny bit challenging when forming an italian sentence#(as i confuse the word order‚ especially when going beyond a simple subject-verb-object sentence)#but otherwise it's fascinating how i understand much better through turkish!#im very excited to read through it as far as i can.#i'll have to give it back tomorrow - tragedy‚ really.#i'll find a pdf of it though‚ its fine#🌙rambling#side note // her father's notes all the way back from 2002 are still in this and it's so endearing.#hi sir i don't know you. your handwriting is really small. thank you#by god i will take care of this book like my life depends on it to make sure nothing happens to it. this book contains so much#it has 551 pages worth of material by the way
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I used to work for a trade book reviewer where I got paid to review people's books, and one of the rules of that review company is one that I think is just super useful to media analysis as a whole, and that is, we were told never to critique media for what it didn't do but only for what it did.
So, for instance, I couldn't say "this book didn't give its characters strong agency or goals". I instead had to say, "the characters in this book acted in ways that often felt misaligned with their characterization as if they were being pulled by the plot."
I think this is really important because a lot of "critiques" people give, if subverted to address what the book does instead of what it doesn't do, actually read pretty nonsensical. For instance, "none of the characters were unique" becomes "all of the characters read like other characters that exist in other media", which like... okay? That's not really a critique. It's just how fiction works. Or "none of the characters were likeable" becomes "all of the characters, at some point or another, did things that I found disagreeable or annoying" which is literally how every book works?
It also keeps you from holding a book to a standard it never sought to meet. "The world building in this book simply wasn't complex enough" becomes "The world building in this book was very simple", which, yes, good, that can actually be a good thing. Many books aspire to this. It's not actually a negative critique. Or "The stakes weren't very high and the climax didn't really offer any major plot twists or turns" becomes "The stakes were low and and the ending was quite predictable", which, if this is a cute romcom is exactly what I'm looking for.
Not to mention, I think this really helps to deconstruct a lot of the biases we carry into fiction. Characters not having strong agency isn't inherently bad. Characters who react to their surroundings can make a good story, so saying "the characters didn't have enough agency" is kind of weak, but when you flip it to say "the characters acted misaligned from their characterization" we can now see that the *real* problem here isn't that they lacked agency but that this lack of agency is inconsistent with the type of character that they are. a character this strong-willed *should* have more agency even if a weak-willed character might not.
So it's just a really simple way of framing the way I critique books that I think has really helped to show the difference between "this book is bad" and "this book didn't meet my personal preferences", but also, as someone talking about books, I think it helps give other people a clearer idea of what the book actually looks like so they can decide for themselves if it's worth their time.
Update: This is literally just a thought exercise to help you be more intentional with how you critique media. I'm not enforcing this as some divine rule that must be followed any time you have an opinion on fiction, and I'm definitely not saying that you have to structure every single sentence in a review to contain zero negative phrases. I'm just saying that I repurposed a rule we had at that specific reviewer to be a helpful tool to check myself when writing critiques now. If you don't want to use the tool, literally no one (especially not me) can or wants to force you to use it. As with all advice, it is a totally reasonable and normal thing to not have use for every piece of it that exists from random strangers on the internet. Use it to whatever extent it helps you or not at all.
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funniest thing about writing a bleach xover is that i committed to putting a language barrier into it so its just ichigo and danny sam tucker communicating over google tranlsate
#disclaimer i do not know japanese very well. But i do know basic sentence structure and i do like picking apart languages#so im not necessarily using google translate flippantly i am picking the word apart so that ik im conveying the right words i want#like i lnow ichigo uses ore pronouns. making sure that google translate knows that. i also know hes rude as hell.#also checking if things dont get translated right and that could be a funny moment tm#like one thing that didnt translate between them due to culture was ichigos name bc its yknow surname first so everyone is calling ichigo#his last name rather than his first which is hilariously accidentally polite. ichigo absolutely does register that dannys first name is#bc canonically ichigo becomes a translator post canon and likes shakespeare so shot in the dark. he knows english#or at least. a little bit of it. more like some phrases at most.#i feel very weird about making one of them go oh ik some japanese from anime cause thats yknow. a form of fetishization.
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We Need Practice - JJK (18+)
A Sequel to Novice.
Pairing: Pornstar!Jungkook X Fem!Reader
Theme: Fluff, smut
Wordcount: 2.1k+
Summary: Jungkook wants you to ride him and you are too bad at that.
Warnings: Unprotected sex, messy cock riding, cumming all over body, they are down bad for each other, more fluff than I intended to have, confessions. NSFW!!
Minors are not allowed in this blog!!
Masterlist | Patreon
“Don’t judge a book by its cover”
You have heard this phrase for thousands of times in your entire lifetime but you have hardly had any chance of actually implying the same in your life.
But then you met Jungkook and you understood how true that one sentence can be.
Jeon Jungkook is the text-book definition of what those cliched bad-boys or fuckboys would look like.
With a hand full of tattoos, silver rings dangling from piercings, impressively structured body and a small waist that could rival female models, he really looks like someone who would be fucking people and putting on a show out of it.
And that is exactly what he does.
Pornstar Jeon Jungkook is actually very notorious.
But Jeon Jungkook as a person is a completely different story.
After that one encounter at that porn movie set, he asked for your number and you complied with his request thinking of he could give you some of the best fucks of your life (not that you have had many fucks to brag about in the first place).
If you are being honest, then you never expected him to be the sweetheart that he actually is. Since the day you two exchanged numbers, he never once asked if he could come over during god-forbidden hours of night. He never once asked for your nude pictures, neither did he ever force you to meet him.
Rather he sends you funny dog videos, funny tik tok clips and asks you how was your day. And you can’t lie about the fact that your heart has already started acting strange, like it flutters everytime Jungkook’s name glows on your dark phone screen.
It’s been more than a month since you have been chatting regularly and now you are getting a little impatient.
As much as you appreciate his good-boy vibes, you would like to see him again, touch him again.
So you do what you have been thinking of doing for more than a week now.
“Sleeping?” you hit send, praying to the universe that he doesn’t find you a desperate bitch for what you are going to do.
The clock reads 2:15 am already, and just then his reply arrives, “nah. Can’t sleep. What about you?”
“Me too. Can’t sleep.”
You take a deep breath before typing the next message, “do you wanna hangout?”
Just when you are about to add “at my place” to complete your proposition, his reply hits your screen, “Send me your address. And wear something warm before I ask you to come out.”
Wait. is he? Taking you out?
Even though you were trying to ask for sex but this option feels even better to be honest.
So you send him your address and he texts you that he will be there within 10 minutes. Wearing your gray padding, you wait for him to arrive at your place.
Another positive point about Jeon Jungkook is that he is punctual. You might even call him a green flag because your phone dings with a “I am here” text right on 2:27 am.
The scene that unfolds in front of you once you come out of your apartment, almost leaves your jaw hanging mid air.
Jungkook has arrived with a bike, dressed in complete black. If you drooled a little at the sight then you would never admit that.
Once he sees you awkwardly walking towards him, he takes off his helmet and welcomes you with one of his infamous bunny smiles.
Your heart does a little flip inside your chest.
His big doe eyes shine amid the darkness as if those are made of some priceless stone. At this moment it’s really tough to believe that he is a pornstar, who fucks people on camera to earn a living.
“Hey. you look beautiful.” he greets you with a compliment when you come close to him.
“You look even more handsome today.” you return his compliment genuinely. And at that, the tip of his ears turn red.
“Ah thanks.” he replies shyly as he hands you a helmet. And gestures to you to mount his fancy bike.
You take the helmet, slip that on your head and hold him by his shoulders to climb on his bike.
Once you have settled, he revves the engine.
“Hold me tightly” he says briefly before setting the bike in motion. You wrap your arms around his waist and hold him just as he asked you to.
The deserted road, the trees whooshing by, the buildings that look peaceful, everything feels so beautiful.
Maybe it’s because of the hour or maybe it’s because you are with someone you like.
The bike comes to a halt at a crossing and you slide up the windshield of your helmet, “where are we going?”
He looks at you through the mirror, slides his own windshield up and gives you another sickening smile, but doesn’t say anything.
5 more minutes later he parks the bike beside a huge lake.
It looks like a secluded area. The lake is mostly hidden amid big trees and surrounded by fishing spots and some benches.
Jungkook spreads his hand before you once you both are standing side by side.
You take the cue and place your hand on his. He intertwines his fingers with yours and you start blushing. Thanks to the darkness, he wouldn’t be able to witness it.
Once you are sitting on a bench, Jungkook starts, “I often come here to fish with my hyungs. This is my first time coming here with a woman.”
When you look at him, you find him already staring at you, “Really? You look like the type to have a lot of girlfriends, you know?”
“Is it because of my profession?” there is a hint of sadness in his eyes.
So you press on his hand, which is still intertwined with yours and say, “no. not because of that. It’s just that you are generally very attractive and charming, Jungkook.”
His face brightens up with a beautiful smile, “Too bad, I was about to say the same about you. But you snatched my words.”
Your eyes widen at his compliment, “You find me attractive?”
“Why? Why are you so surprised? Is it wrong to find someone attractive?” he giggles, staring deep into your eyes.
“No. Th-that’s not what I meant. I mean, you know, you work with far more attractive women than me. So.. it’s kind of unlikely actually.” you fumble with your words.
Jungkook chuckles at your explanation, “they are just colleagues, Y/N. Just like any other profession, we have a strict business relationship. And honestly, they are not even my type. You, on the other hand, fit perfectly into the category of women I would love to date.”
Your eyes go even wider at his confession, “you.. You want to date me?”
“If you let me. If you trust me despite the nature of my profession… I would love to make you mine.” Jungkook breathes slowly, his eyes drop down to your lips.
Before you can voice your answer, your intrusive thoughts win and you reach up, placing a chaste kiss on his lips.
“I think I would love it too.”
And then you find yourself being pulled by the back of your neck as Jungkook crashes his lips on yours. It’s passionate, it’s overwhelming, it’s so beautiful and you never felt anything close to this.
He licks the seam of your lower lip asking you to grant him permission, you let him inside your mouth.
His tongue probes into your mouth testing each corner, you moan into his mouth. His other hand wraps around your waist pulling you even closer.
And then you feel one, two, three and then multiple drops of rain falling on you two.
He detaches his lips from yours, “fuck. It’s raining.”
“Let’s go back to my place.” you reply, trying to cover your heads with your hands.
It’s been one of your bucket list wishes to ride a bike in the rain with the person you love and probably it’s going to come true today.
You hold him tightly, pressing your chest on his back, not in a sexual, but in a loving manner. It starts raining heavily within a few minutes, and Jungkook quickens his speed to reach your destination as soon as possible.
“Where are you going?” you place your question, seeing Jungkook putting on his helmet again after dropping in front of your apartment entrance.
Even though the rain has turned into drizzle now, it still can be quite dangerous to drive a bike in this weather.
“Home. Where else?” he adds a little sheepishly.
“Jungkook, it’s still raining. I don’t think it’s any wiser to go home now, you’re drenched on top of that. Come inside. You can leave after the sunrise. If you want.. I mean.” you propose, he seems to think for a bit.
“I don’t think I should go inside, Y/N.” Jungkook looks at the ground as if it’s more interesting than your face.
“Why? What’s wrong?” you are truly confused now.
“I might not be able to control myself…” his voice fades by the time he manages to end the sentence.
“Did I say I want you to control?” you bite your lip, hoping that you don’t appear to be too desperate to him.
His eyes go wider inside his bulky helmet.
Jungkook pushes your naked body on the mattress.
“I couldn’t stop thinking of how good you felt that day.” He groans while biting down on the skin of your neck.
Your hands roam around the smooth skin of his back. Everytime you scratch his back, he moans a little.
“So pretty, so delicate, so perfect for me.” Jungkook groans again.
One of his hands reaches down, finding your clit within a moment. It’s as if he has studied the map of your body with earnest interest.
Drawing tight circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves, he pulls out melodic moans out of your throat.
“Jun-jungkook mmm..” you moan again.
“Yes baby. Say my name again.” he urges you while entering your heat with his middle finger. His digit plunges inside you, making you see stars indoors.
“Jungko- I’m close” you manage to voice somehow. And as soon as those words fly out of your mouth, he empties you.
You look at him being dumbfounded. He smirks at you, knowing what exactly he has done.
“I want you to cum on my cock. I am hard as hell, baby.” he confesses blatantly.
Just when you are about to hold him, he flips you around. So, now you are sitting on his thighs.
“I want you to ride me.” he adds a little breathlessly. And you almost choke on your own spit.
“What? I-I don’t..”
“I will guide you, Y/N.” he cuts you off.
He helps you in taking off his slacks along with his underwear. Once he is naked, he holds you by your waist and lines your entrance along with his cock.
“Are you ready?” he asks briefly. You nod in affirmation. And then he is sliding you down his length.
At first his length is overwhelming but you adjust fast.
“You should move now.” Jungkook’s voice is laced with lust, his eyes are hazy, making him look even more attractive than he already is.
You honestly have no idea how to move. So you try to implement your visual experience. However, it’s tough once you start bouncing on his cock. Even though Jungkook is guiding you well, you are messy regardless.
Your moves and Jungkook’s thrusts don’t match at all and the experience is nothing like that day.
You really are a novice.
Even though the friction is delicious for you, Jungkook’s expression tells that he is very underwhelmed. So, you start trying your best. With a few more bounces, you cum all over his cock, creaming it perfectly.
As soon as you are done, Jungkook flips you around again. He slips out of you and starts playing himself.
Even though you are in your post-orgasm haze, it’s embarrassing for you. You couldn’t help him finish and he had to take the charge himself.
With a few more pumps, he cums all over your body. Starting from your face, to your stomach, everything gets creamed in his white hot seed.
And it’s hot. He is hot. And you are pathetic.
“I-I’m sorry. I know it was bad.” you manage to voice once Jungkook is done with himself.
“You are not bad, baby. We just need more practice together.” and then he is sealing his lips with yours again.
You certainly need more practice with him.
Taglist:
@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @chimmisbae @i-have-no-life-charlie
#bts smut#jungkook smut#bts x reader#jungkook x reader#bts fluff#jungkook fluff#bts fanfiction#jungkook fanfic#bts fanfic#bts jungkook#jungkook seven#bts
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julian bashir arrives on cardassia speaking a very mismatch of classical high kardassi. straight up the equivalent of someone speaking like they learned english by reading anything between chaucer and sheakespeare and beowulf.
he's using thee and thou with old-fashioned class-denominating pronouns every which way. he's making grandiloquent statements as per a character in a classical cyclical epic. an expected shipment of red leaf tea is late and he recites the final tragic act of the neverending sacrifice like it's a normal oh shucks kinda thing.
no one can tell if he's messing with them or not. no one in his team wants to tell upper management or be the one to point out the guy in charge of their local federation relief aid chapter attends his patients with the traditional phrases for offering succor in ancient hebitian poetry.
does it count as dissident ancient hebitian poetry these days? no one wants to venture a guess.
for one thing, this is their weird federation aid doctor and at least he's already properly trained in cultural norms, more or less, even if he does eat rudely fast and he does keep comparing a well-done surgery to the blooming structure of the kanar bush rather floridly.
for another, his husband's in charge of the local textile warehouse and you don't want to get on the bad side of someone who is in charge of clothing the whole district and wields a pair of scissors like he does.
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Evergreen
Glimpses of your relationship. (Autistic Reader)
Reverie series can be found here. This is structured differently than the rest, it's multiple blurbs in one that I've written over time, which has definitely made it unnecessarily long but it's super light-hearted and fluffy so hopefully it's worth it
Being in a committed, serious relationship was new to you. You had dated, and… that was about it. That’s as far as things had gone in the past.
Yet, here you were, making your way through the airport after spending Christmas back home in ice cold, snowy Norway, a small smile on your face at the thought of the person waiting to pick you up and take you home.
It was a strange adjustment, that was for sure, but a very welcome one. Having someone at your side felt… comforting. Knowing you could go to her for anything at any time was comforting. However, sometimes it worried you that you had to commit your every day to her. Not in the sense that you couldn’t settle down with her and her only, no way. Instead, you were anxious about the fact that there were times you needed your alone time, where you needed the world to quieten down a little to give you the space you needed to regulate yourself. Would Alexia understand that? Or would it irritate her that sometimes the only thing she’d get from you was radio silence?
In the end, you didn’t need to worry for even just a second. As a matter of fact, you found that peace in Alexia’s company. Not all the time of course, that wasn’t entirely realistic and time alone was still something you needed, just… less often. You wanted to spend everyday with her, even when you were mentally exhausted or burnt-out and so stressed you feared your hair would turn grey.
You hadn’t planned to fall in love within mere months of living in Barcelona, nor had you expected to fall for a teammate. However, sometimes the most surprising things end up being the best. You adored Alexia and all that she was, especially when she demanded that she drop you off and pick you up from the airport and left no room for arguing.
The sight of her waiting for you as you walked out of the arrivals door was worth the ten days of torture being away from her. There was no way in hell you could have controlled the shy, excited grin on your face as you wandered over to her.
She didn’t hesitate in holding her arms out when you got closer, an equally sheepish smile greeting you before you stepped into her space. The blonde let out an audible sigh of relief when her chin landed on your shoulder, holding you tightly against her whilst your hands slipped underneath the puffer jacket she wore and landed on the small of her back atop her sweater. For a few moments, the pair of you indulged in the comfort of the other after going so long without it. Hundreds of people passed by you as you did, each of them nothing more than a fleeting stranger with a life as complex as your own, yet your interest in their stories and the lives they led paled in comparison to the all-consuming feeling of Alexia’s embrace.
Despite how you had technically just gone home, back to Norway where you grew up with all your family around you, that reuniting hug was… something more. Something deeper. You couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was about it.
“How are you? How was the flight?” She murmured quietly, pressing her lips to your coat-covered shoulder before leaning back and gazing down at you.
“Tired. My mind is frazzled.” Alexia scrunched her nose at the unfamiliar phrase, and though she had never heard it before, she seemed to understand what you meant by it. You smiled at her as she did it, finding it much more adorable than you'd ever care to admit.
“Let's get you home, eh? With… with me? I stay?” She asked, wanting nothing more than to fall onto the sofa with you and lay there for the rest of her days.
“Yes, god yes. I missed you.” You told her. The blonde chuckled softly and pulled you back in, this time with her cheek resting against your forehead as you nuzzled your nose against her jaw.
“Sí, I will stay with you. Por supuesto.” Alexia said in a whisper, her lips pressing a kiss to your temple. “I missed you too. It was so strange without you.”
“How so?” You wondered, content to stay there in her arms with the warmth of her drowning out the cool chill of the terminal.
“I was sad. Whenever I had some free time, I went to ask if you wanted to come over or I go to you or we have food together or something. But you weren't here and then I was sad. I'm never sad.” You giggled at the last statement, because despite staying in touch whilst you were gone with both calls and texts frequently throughout the day, it was nowhere near the same as being there in person. You understood exactly what she meant.
“Don't be silly, you're the most popular person in Barcelona. You know everyone there somehow, nevermind the thousands of fans too.”
“Maybe, but none of them are you.”
Your first instinct was to roll your eyes at her statement, which made her grin, but it did something to you. To you and your heart, to the butterflies in your stomach.
“Calla, Ale.” You shook your head, though spoke with a sheepish gratitude to your voice and a weakness to your knees that had her laughing quietly.
“I am being serious. I wanted you to have an amazing time at home but I wanted the days to go fast so I could see you again.”
Her hand that landed on your cheek stopped you from turning away from her out of embarrassment at her sweet words, and you barely had a moment to scold her before she leaned down and finally kissed you. Each of you were overcome with a sense of relief, of yearning, of adoration, yet there was one stand-out thought which you both had– there was no way you could go that long without it again. And for Alexia, well, she also knew there was never another person in the world that could make her feel the way you did with just one kiss. It broke off sooner than you wanted, simply because not one of you could stop smiling.
“Take me home now?” You said, gazing at her as she blinked at you a couple times before snapping back into the reality. You giggled, spotting the exact moment she came out of her thoughts, which were overflowing with you, and nodded.
In moments like this, it was hard to believe that you were hardly three weeks into the relationship. Yet, if this was what three weeks had in store for you, you couldn’t wait to see what a lifetime held.
There was a bit of that playful back and forth that you adored when she took your suitcase from you, arguing something to do with being a gentlewoman, and you let her. Who were you to resist her? Dumb, that’s for sure. So she wheeled your bag to her parked car, your hand grasping onto her upper arm, in a comfortable silence. With it, came quiet excitement that formed between you, only now processing the fact you were back in each other’s company and had the next few days to spend time together before training started up again.
Nothing could have prepared you for the complete and utter domesticity that took over your apartment when you stepped foot inside again.
Firstly, it started with Alexia heading to the kitchen whilst you went to your bedroom to drop off your bags and unpack the main things from your backpack. Unbeknownst to you, while you were out of the country, Alexia had borrowed Ingrid's key to your flat so that she could organise a few small surprises she hoped you would appreciate. And appreciate them you did.
Just as you were beginning to feel a little overwhelmed at the thought of all the chores that coming back from a vacation had to offer, the door to your room creaked open and in walked your girlfriend with a mug of your favourite hot chocolate in her hand. With a disbelieving smile on your face, you happily accepted it, placing a grateful kiss to her check as your silent way of thanking her.
And as if it couldn't get any better, with a quiet, loving murmur, the blonde persuaded you to leave your bags until tomorrow, not afraid to admit that she would much rather spend the evening in your arms than to see you add to your own stress by trying to get everything organised straight after a flight. You were glad to take her up on her advice because you walked into your lounge to a coffee table filled with surprises. A fresh bouquet of flowers, a new candle, the softest looking blanket you might have ever seen, one of Alexia's folded-up hoodies, and a small gift-wrapped box. You felt overwhelmed, but this time in the best way possible – because you felt wholly and completely loved, even if the pair of you hadn't said that specific word yet.
The only thing you could do to repay such kindness was by granting her wish of doing nothing but cuddling with you on the couch. So you did exactly that. With Alexia's hoodie on, which you realised was her favourite, you both lay down on the sofa and got comfy. Your head was on her chest, tucked perfectly under her chin, with the new blanket that exceeded your softness expectations covering you both, and the most adorable Christmas tree decoration hanging off a pine branch in the corner of the room. According to her, Alexia had chosen it whilst at the Christmas markets, seeing the beautifully crafted glass decoration and thinking of you. Though, she also went on to admit that she thought of you all of the time, hence why she had bought multiple small gifts for you whilst you were gone.
Neither of you planned to fall asleep, but it seemed that had been the case when Alexia woke up some time later, you still on top of her and sleeping. She glanced at her phone and her heart dropped when she saw the time. You hadn't spent the night together at this point of your relationship, yet here the midfielder was, still on your couch at 1am.
Maybe it was slightly unfair of her, but she would have truthfully done anything to stay in that moment, with you completely at peace lay on top of her. So she lingered for a minute or two, one hand on the back of your head as the other slipped under her jumper and softly trailed her fingertips up and down your warm skin. She closed her eyes and rested for just a second, before letting out a slightly stifled sigh and raising her head from where she had laid back. She gazed down at you, your cheek slightly smushed against her chest and your lips parted as you let out small breaths every so often, and did her best to memorise the sight for herself.
“Cariño.” She whispered, gently nudging your shoulder to wake you up so she could leave. If it was up to her, she would just slip out quietly and not wake you, but she knew the anxieties that would most likely cause for you and that was the last thing she wanted. “Wake up, cari. Por favor.”
“Shh. Sleep.” You grumbled, burying your face further into her neck and pulling the blanket tighter around you.
“No, mi amor.” Alexia chuckled softly, which only had you groaning. “Sorry. I have to go, it's the middle of the night.”
“Just stay, Ale.” You told her. Now that, she wasn't expecting. And if you weren't toeing the line between awake and asleep, you probably wouldn't have said it either.
“S…stay?” She repeated, though got no response from you. “Wake up, wake up. Just for a minute while I go.”
You reluctantly opened your eyes then, if only to frown when you lifted your head up to look at her properly.
“Why do you want to leave?” You asked in a slightly anxious mumble, those worries that Alexia wanted to avoid appearing anyway. To quell them quickly, she cupped your cheek and leaned forward to kiss your forehead.
“Because we haven't spent the night together yet and I don't want to cross any boundaries. This is your space, I don't want to intrude and overstay my welcome.” She answered sincerely, gazing at you so softly that had you been standing, your knees would have surely buckled.
Those three words were so close to slipping out then, but you feared it was too early and you didn't want to scare her away just as you'd gotten her back. She kept you and your needs in mind at all times- not an overbearing amount, instead in a way where she somehow always knew the moment it was necessary for her to voice her willingness to cater for them. You'd known each other for a number of months now, so she had come to know you well, but it still caught you off guard how thoughtful and caring she was. Other than Ingrid, you weren't sure you had ever come across someone outside of your family that treated you so... perfectly. So normally. It was second nature for the Spanish woman at this point, and that meant the world to you.
“Ale.” You breathed out quietly, shaking your head slightly. She frowned at your reaction, and you couldn't help the sleepy giggle that left your throat. “I would really, really love it if you stayed over. Only if you want to, though.”
Your hair was no doubt a mess from being asleep, you could feel how flushed your cheeks were, and the material of Alexia's t-shirt was probably imprinted on one side of your face. Despite this, Alexia still looked at you like you were the only person in the world.
“If you are happy with it, I would love to stay over. I couldn't think of anything better than waking up in the morning to you.” Her words had you blushing, as they often did, and in your shy embarrassment, you ducked your head down to hide the beaming smile on your face. You lifted it back up only a second or two later when you heard Alexia yawn above you, the pair of you bursting into loud, hearty laughter afterwards.
Together, even with your fingers intertwined for the very short journey, you headed to your bedroom. Alexia perched on the edge of the bed as you searched your wardrobe not only for yourself, but your girlfriend too. You turned around with a pair of shorts for you, more than happy to keep on the jumper of hers you wore, as well as a sweater and another pair of shorts for Alexia. However, she looked at you like there was something she was holding back when you went to hand over the clothes.
“I don’t… usually sleep with shorts or trousers on.” She admitted with an amusingly bright shade of pink to her cheeks. Even the tips of her ears had changed colours.
“That’s fine, Ale, you can sleep in whatever you want. Long as you’re comfy.” You told her, giggling at the small sigh of relief she let out as you put her shorts back into the drawers.
“I did not want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything. Thank you for this.” She smiled up at you before standing.
There was a miniscule moment of awkwardness where the two of you felt like teenagers at a sleepover, worrying about changing in front of each other, until Alexia turned so that her back was to you and began to unbutton and unzip her jeans. You turned too, not without a coy grin on your face, and quickly got changed, as did Alexia.
“Can I turn now?”
“Are you finished?”
You asked at the same time, laughing together once more whilst moving to face each other again. Alexia took in the sight of you in her jumper, the small detail making her heart skip with joy around her chest, and you shook your head at the fondness she admired you with as you tried not to look at the rather substantial amount of skin on show from the woman across from you. She looked adorable, in just her underwear and a sweater with slightly tousled hair. It was such a contrast to the person you saw on the pitch, and so what if you secretly, not-so-secretly loved the fact that you were the only one in the world that saw this dimension of her multifaceted persona?
“What side do you prefer?” You wondered, gesturing to the bed behind you.
“Which side?” Alexia scrunched her nose in confusion like she did back at the airport, and still you found it just as endearing.
“Yeah, like do you prefer being closer to the door or to the window?”
“Oh! I do not mind, cariño, you can pick.” You let out a dramatic breath at her decision, then immediately clambered under the covers, making Alexia smile. “So you like the window?”
“I do. I like being able to look out every morning, the sunrise wakes me up.” You answered her curiosity, and it was simply another fact which she stored away. She had a number of them memorised by now, but she hoped she could learn every single one.
“Do you, um… like to cuddle? When you sleep?” The blonde murmured a little shyly, lay on her back with her head turned to you. You had a feeling, from the sheepishness in her tone, that there was a certain answer she was hoping for. When you answered, you couldn't help the small, excited smile on your face.
“I think I do.”
At your response, she moved onto her side, her accent thick when she quietly demanded that you roll over away from her. Once you had, you hid your face in your pillow when she shuffled up close to you, her chest to your back. Were you sure you weren’t asleep? Because when her arm slipped around your waist and hugged you tight back against her, you were convinced you were dreaming.
But, of course, you always had something to say.
“Do you sleep with socks on?” You hummed curiously into the quiet room.
“Sí..? Why?”
“That’s so strange, Ale.” You commented, goosebumps rising on your skin with the huff she let out against your neck.
“Vete a dormir, idiota.” She grumbled, though you knew she was smiling, it came through so clearly in her voice.
You woke up first the next morning. You weren’t used to sharing a bed, so you didn’t sleep too great, but waking up to Alexia snuggled close to you with her head half on your pillow and an arm wrapped around your body to ensure you didn’t move from her hold, it was so worth it. Even if she called you a worm for the rest of the day, droning on and on about how wriggly you were overnight. This time, when she teased you, you could see the smile on her face as she did so, you didn’t have to assume she had a grin like the previous night. With how the first night went, you thought about your future with a smile on your face, now knowing that mornings were so much better than ever before when you woke up to Alexia’s grumpiness and her tendency to cling onto anytime you tried to leave the bed.
—
Just because you hated your own birthday, that didn’t mean you disliked other people’s birthdays. In fact, for the people closest to you, you relished the opportunity to meticulously plan for them and show them exactly how loved they were.
“Ale, I mean it. Don’t you dare show up early.”
February 2nd was of course your girlfriend's birthday. It was a morning training session that day, which was honestly quite lucky, and after some celebrations there with the club, you two were going your separate ways. Alexia had plans with some of her close-knit circle of friends from her hometown, whilst you were finishing up organising everything for when she came over to your place afterwards.
You had your arms crossed and eyebrows raised as you looked at her in warning where you stood at the driver's side window of her car. She had a smug grin on her face, like she wasn't listening to a thing you were saying.
“What if I just want to see you, mi amor?” She argued cheekily, but you scoffed.
“Well, I'm right here, telling you to NOT show up early.”
“But I'm early to everything! Early is on time, on time is-”
“On time is late, late is what the hell is the point of being alive, yes I know you, Alexia.” You jabbed a finger into her chest, smiling at the toothy grin she responded with. “But this is your birthday and I have everything planned down to a T, if you're early then I'm just going to kick you out and make you sit outside in the corridor until it's the right time.”
There was a tight schedule for the day, one you were not going to break. Alexia may try her damn hardest but her determination isn't going to win out this time, because yours is stronger.
She was going to spend the afternoon with her closest friends, the people that she knew she wouldn't be where she was now without them, whilst you had an intense few hours of cooking. Yes, hours. Cooking historically wasn't your favourite thing in the world, you were a pair that did not get along, but with a few tips and lessons from Alexia's mother, you had nearly perfected one dish that you knew Alexia would die for. Hopefully she wouldn't have to resort to such extremities as long as you keep to your timetable and she doesn't ruin that.
“Oh my god!” You suddenly exclaimed as your phone vibrated in your pocket, your alarm telling you to get home ASAP going off at that particular moment. “I need to go! You’re going to make me late!”
Before Alexia could even blink, you had kissed her cheek and turned to head back to your car. But she wasn’t allowing that.
“Oye! Ven aquí, engel.” She sounded serious and a little strict then, you had no choice but to turn around and walk back towards her skeptically. You stood about a foot away from her door, though she beckoned you over with a wave of her hand and raised an eyebrow when you only shuffled a tiny bit. “Ven aquí.”
You rolled your eyes at her and did as she said, though your attitude didn’t stay for long when she pinched your cheeks together with one hand and leaned up to leave a lingering, firm kiss to your pouted lips that momentarily turned your brain to mush. After she pulled back, she chuckled a little menacingly at the daze she left you in, until you blinked out of whatever not so PG thoughts you’d fallen into and back to the present.
“Don’t distract me!” You groaned, pushing her face away gently with your palm. “Have fun with your friends, I’ll see you later. At the right time, Ale!”
Fortunately for you, she did show up on ti- well, two minutes early actually, but you were running ahead of schedule thanks to the gracious extra time you gave yourself in case anything did go wrong. Some things… did go wrong, but all were salvageable, and now you had the most beautiful aroma of slow-cooked, completely homemade (apart from the actual pasta) shredded beef ragu pasta circling throughout your apartment, and if you didn’t say so yourself, it could definitely pass as a Michelin star meal.
However, out of all the outcomes you had thought of for that night, there was one that you never could have prepared yourself for.
“You reek of wine.” Was the first thing you said when you opened the door to your pink-cheeked, suspiciously happy girlfriend. You scrunched your nose up at the distinct scent coming from her, or actually it was probably just your hypersensitivity to most smells, whilst Alexia beamed at you from her place rooted in the doorway.
“Hola, guapisima.” The blonde grinned, reaching her arms out and making toddler-esque grabby hands at you, otherwise known as asking for a hug in sober language.
Your first thought, as you leaned in, was one of anxiety and stress, since you didn’t exactly plan to deal with a wine drunk Alexia for the first time especially with it being her birthday. But then, she hummed almost like a happy cat purring when you wrapped your arms around her, and she seemed relaxed and happy in a different way than you had seen so far. Thankfully she didn’t seem too drunk, maybe just a bit tipsy, and as you held her you giggled at the way she nuzzled her nose into the skin just below your jawline.
“You had fun then? With your friends?” You wondered as you ran a hand up and down her jumper clad back.
“Mhm.” She lifted her head up and smiled at you. You looked in her eyes, and found nothing but carefree and utter contentment swirling around there. It did something to your heart then, a feeling akin to relief and pride settling over you at how at peace she seemed to be in your company. Even if that was assisted by the alcohol in her system. “So happy to be with you now. I waited all day.”
“Yeah, yeah. Softie.” You teased, giggling at how she tutted in disapproval at your comment and raised an eyebrow at you. “Feliz cumpleaños.”
“Tusen takk.” Alexia grinned in turn, her eyes creasing in the corners. “Ves? I am not early. I am at the right time and hungry, so let me in.”
“No.” You said just as she went to move past you. You tightened your arms around her waist so that she couldn't move, and she frowned grumpily as a result. “You're two minutes early, actually.”
“Vale.” She sighed, giving up the fight much easier than you expected, which only raised your suspicions further. “You cooked, sí? Mami said you were cooking a big meal?”
“I did, it's almo-” You were right to be wary of her behaviour, as her hands slipped down to the back of your thighs and she hoisted you up into her arms, catching you off guard. You pushed the door shut behind her before she walked away, only just managing to reach it over her shoulder as she started walking through your flat. “Ale! What are you doing?!”
Not that she made it too far before she almost sent the two of you flying down to the floor when she bumped into the set of drawers near the entryway.
“Be careful! How much did you drink?” You scolded lightly, grabbing onto the door frame that led into the kitchen to steady yourselves.
“Hmm… does it matter?” She answered, curving the question with a smile on her face before the smell of food cooking caught her attention.
“No, you can’t be in here yet! Put me down, get out!” You panicked slightly at how the surprise would have been ruined as she went to head over to the stove, though it was instantly relieved when Alexia stopped in her tracks and lowered you back down to the floor with a grumble. “You can’t know yet, I need to serve it up. Go sit at the table and wait, please behave. No funny business.”
“I will stay here and behave and watch you.” The midfielder compromised, and with a defeated sigh, you nodded and got started with the final steps of the evening.
“You're so weird.” You muttered, turning to glance back at her where she leaned back against the wall with her hands clasped behind her like a bored, young child when she clicked her tongue in disapproval.
“Not weird.” She grumbled, giving up on standing around and waiting, instead wandering over to stand beside you, drooling at the food you'd prepared until something caught her eye. “What is this?”
She picked up the piece of paper she saw and read through it – albeit with slightly blurred vision – and felt a wave of adoration wash over her.
“Oh, it's the… timetable I wrote for myself tonight. So I didn't forget anything.” You replied sheepishly, opting out of facing the blonde in case her and her unpredictable drunken antics decided to tease you for it.
You knew it might be a little weird to anyone else that you'd make such a detailed outline for the evening, but it was something you had always done and it hadn't failed you thus far. It was very meticulous, with timings for food and reminders of tiny things you didn't want to forget and when you could get ready for her arrival as the dinner cooked without it ruining the process.
Though, Alexia didn't think it was weird or unusual. To her, it was just another glimpse into your mind and how it worked, and she treasured it anytime she got to see that. She was sure, when you weren't looking and didn't need it anymore, she'd slip it into her pocket and keep it as a memory. Sure it might just be a lined bit of paper ripped out of the nearest notebook with scribbled notes that only you could understand, but for Alexia it was a sentimental souvenir that represented so much more than just a nice evening together. Making sure everything went perfect and was well organised that night was one of your many ways of demonstrating your love for her and how deep it ran.
“I really appreciate you setting up this evening for us.” Alexia began quietly, resting her chin on your shoulder and wrapping an arm loosely around your waist as her hand found its place on your hip. “Mi novia bonita. You are the best.”
“I'm sorry we aren't going out or doing anything fancy.” You mumbled insecurely, suddenly shrinking in on yourself and allowing the doubts to come in.
Alexia might be here with a smile on her face, but would she have been happier elsewhere? An actual Michelin star restaurant with a girlfriend that could handle more than half an hour in such an environment? Dressed up to the nines and paying a bill of, at the very least, three digits rather than putting up with a haphazard home-cooked meal and a night in?
“Why you say that?” Alexia frowned, gently taking the dish you were holding as well as the ladle in your other hand and putting them both down for the time being. She put the lid back on the pot so that the food didn't cool too much, before urging you to face her with her hand moving to your shoulder. “Why, when I think this is the perfect way to spend my birthday?”
“Because other years you've had parties and nights out, you've told me all about them and the dinners you've had and stuff. This is just… nothing compared to all those. But it's all I can give you and it doesn't feel like enough. I just… I tried my best though.”
The words come out thick and fast with little warning, revealing stresses that you'd carried on your shoulders for days since you came up with the idea for this night. You tried to disguise them, whenever Alexia asked previously you what was up you shrugged her off, but of course it was now of all moments that you spilt all you felt.
“No. No, no, no.” Alexia said, her eyebrows pressed down into a scowl of determination, which you took as anger.
“I am sorry, Alexia, I did try my b-”
“And your best is so much more than I could wish for.” She cut you off in a firm voice, her hands on either side of your neck as her thumbs under her chin tilted your head up to face her. “It is more than enough. I see what you have done here for me and I see you. Not what you can't do. Those other things for my birthday, they were more for my family and my friends to enjoy. I liked them, but… there is a reason I didn't want to do all that this year and it's not because of you. It's because it's not what I want, but you know what I want, and I know that because you've planned this night and it is perfect for me.”
With her flushed cheeks and slightly tousled hair from… well, from what you weren't sure though it probably had the same reasonings as the red tinge to her cheeks, but it was her wide eyes that really tied off the slightly manic appearance of her. Like, if you didn't believe everything she said, she might go on a tipsy rampage against everyone that had done you so wrong it had led to your current doubtful mindset.
Your hands were clasped in front of you, fidgeting as you processed her words which had been a little unexpected. Perhaps a drunk Alexia wasn't such a worrying thing like you thought it might be.
“A… are you sure? I mean, I d-”
“Spending time with the woman I love? She cooks an amazing meal for me? And it is just us, nobody else?” She interrupted you again, a soft smile on her face as her thumbs carefully caressed the soft skin of your cheeks. “I love that, cariño, I really have been so excited all day. Please, never… belittle yourself over what you can't do, when everything that you are doing is more than good enough for everybody around you. Nobody loves like you do and I feel very lucky to be the one that gets all you have to give.”
Definitely not as bad as you feared.
“You…” Speechless, you trailed off and shook your head. So you leaned in and hugged her, because there was very little you could say to repay her for her thoughtfulness other than- “I love you.”
“I love you too, mi amor.” Alexia hummed into your ear, swaying you both on the spot before her temporarily depleted attention span averted back to the pasta that was calling her name. “I also love pasta so please let me eat now. Two minutes have passed, no?”
There was a grin pressed against the skin of your neck as you lightly hit her back for her comment. That night with Alexia was just another example of how well she truly knew you, unlike anyone you'd ever met. And that pride from earlier? It returned as you say across from her at the dinner table, a rich amount of pasta dished up in front of you both, because she said you knew her too. You knew her too.
As it turned out, your cooking skills far surpassed Alexia's expectations, nevermind your own. She may have been a tiny bit worried considering the few but memorable occasions of you trying to cook for her, so she'd have to thank her mother in a very generous way, because it might have been one of the best things she'd ever been served. When the midfielder slumped back in her chair, the button to her trousers undone after stuffing her face with a week’s worth of pasta, her eyes never steered away from you.
You weren't doing anything of note, you were simply loading the dishwasher up with the plates and cutlery and whatnot that you'd used that day. Yet, for your girlfriend, there was so much love blooming through her chest she had no idea what to do with it apart from gaze at you like you were the one who had invented football.
“Your presents are in my bedroom by the way. I, um… may have gone a bit overboard.” You admitted shyly as you went to go back to your chair, though you were stopped in your tracks when an arm curved around your waist and pulled you down to sit on Alexia’s lap.
“Your bedroom?” She said lowly, a glint in her eyes that were solely focused on your lips. You blushed, knowing exactly what was on her mind, having come to recognise the pattern in her behaviour when she wanted… something in particular. You dragged the whole thing out, knowing it only ended in one way, but where’s the fun in that?
“Mhm.” You nodded, your heart rate speeding up a tad at how she smirked afterwards.
“Vaya, qué conveniente, no?” Alexia murmured, leaning in so that your noses brushed together and your lips were millimetres apart. At her teasing, you tried to resist the bashful smile but Alexia saw it for a split second before you could repress it. “Bueno. Vamos.”
In an instant, she was up from her seat with you in her arms, one strict destination in her mind with one very likeable goal.
“Ale, I just had a giant bowl of pasta!”
“No me importa, mi amor.” She sang, before kicking the bedroom door shut behind you both.
—
From an outsider’s perspective, your relationship seemed just as perfect as it was in your point of view. Didn’t take a genius to recognise that; five minutes with you and Alexia, anyone could see how much you valued each other.
“-and then my mother rang Mapi, like actually called her, just to see if I was lying. They teamed up on me, snuppa, my mother and my girlfriend. Over soup.”
“That is… you got yourself into that mess, Ingrid. I can’t comment. Can’t take sides.”
Just like it had been ten years ago, back home in Norway in a tiny hotel in Oslo, you and Ingrid were sharing a room for an away game. There had been training, dinner, and now it was downtime where everybody could choose what they wanted to do. With Alexia at the press conference and Mapi… doing whatever Mapi did, you and Ingrid settled for a relaxed night in, though the movie you’d landed on was long forgotten in the background.
“You just took a side. Unbelievable.” The dark-haired woman sighed, shaking her head in disappointment. You grinned, lay on your side on your bed as Ingrid painted her nails across from you on hers.
It was peaceful and just what you wanted it to be, some time alone with your second favourite person in your life where you could just exist in each other’s company. Unfortunately, though to nobody’s surprise, it didn’t last long.
“Buenas noches.” Alexia smiled as she walked in, somehow having acquired a keycard to your room.
“What are you doing here?” You asked in confusion, not expecting to see her for the rest of the evening since you weren’t sharing a room.
“Oh, what a lovely greeting.” She scoffed jokingly, disregarding the fact you were midway through a conversation and flopping down onto the space next to you. The blonde lay on her stomach, face turned into your back as an arm flung around your waist. And she just stayed there.
With a glance at Ingrid, who shrugged her shoulders, you rolled your eyes at your girlfriend’s antics before the pair of you slipped back into conversation like nothing had happened. Alexia piped up every now and then, but for the most part, she remained quiet and just relished in your company.
Ingrid hadn’t seen these sides to either of you, ever.
It was something small, you and Alexia didn't even exchange a word, but there was a smile on your face as you chatted with Ingrid that the defender didn't see much until Alexia came into your life. Still, it was big enough for her to come to a realisation. Two, actually.
First, that you were happy with Alexia, which made her beam with joy for you and feel extra grateful for Alexia. The second, though, was something she had hoped would happen the minute she caught wind of the transfer rumours. You were completely, genuinely, whole-heartedly happy with your life at Barcelona. And in Barcelona too of course, but you weren't currently in the city at that moment, you were halfway across the country, so. But her point still stood.
However, no matter how much she valued your happiness, she could get to that another time. For now, she wanted-
“I want to go to sleep now.” She decided, zipping up the bag in which she kept all her nail stuff for when she travelled, looking at the two of you on the bed and noting the puzzled expression on your face.
“Then go to sleep, Ingrid, nobody is stopping you.” Alexia chuckled behind you at that, quickly leaving a kiss on the back of your neck before sitting up.
“No, she is trying to tell me to get out.” She yawned, sharing a smile with Ingrid at your misunderstanding.
“Oh. Well, get out then. You’re not even supposed to be here.” Ingrid grinned at your reply that had Alexia frowning, not expecting you to go against her.
“You’re supposed to be on my side, cari.” She argued, nudging your knee.
“Ask Ingrid. I don’t take sides. The only side I’m on is the right side of justice.” Ingrid bursted out laughing at that and you had to stifle your own, though you did smile at the unimpressed but amused look on Alexia’s face. “Take it up with the club, those are the rules. You’re the captain. I’m sure they will be so glad to hear you can’t stay away from your girlfriend for a few hours overnight.”
The captain shook her head and stood, tugging you off the bed and wrapping you up in a hug that had a better purpose than simply saying goodnight. She slipped her own keycard into your pocket and whispered something unintelligible for Ingrid’s ears to you. Then, she left with a grin, and Ingrid scoffed as you turned back to her shyly, cheeks bright red.
“You know what, I don’t even want to know.” Ingrid said, gathering her things to take into the bathroom to start her night routine.
“It was nothing like that!” You claimed abruptly, realising where her mind had gone. You hesitated for a moment, before remembering who it was in front of you. “She was just being sweet. Saying she would miss me for the night.”
All Ingrid could do was shake her head at the pair of you and how utterly loved up you were, because with every glimpse she caught of the true nature of your connection with each other, it exceeded her hopes and expectations every single time. So, with her hands on her hips as she took the sight of you smiling with a soft shyness to your face and how you fidgeted with the keycard in your pocket, she had no qualms expressing her feelings.
“Do you know how much it means to me? To see you this happy with someone?” Was what she said, which you weren’t expecting at all. You were expecting more teasing, or for her to just tell you to be quiet so she could get ready for bed. Certainly not that.
“What do you mean?” You wondered quietly. She came to stand in front of you and put her hands on your shoulders, meeting your curious stare with a proud look in her eye.
“It just makes me happy to see that you have found someone that treats you exactly as you deserve to be treated. Who isn't afraid to ask questions, who goes above and beyond for you, who sees you for who you are. I had no idea Alexia would be that person for you but I am so glad she is. I am just… relieved and proud that this is how things have worked out for you with moving to this club. I was worried you wouldn't like it but you have really made a place for yourself. And you even got yourself a girlfriend, like, look at you go!” Ingrid beamed, shaking you a little from excitement as she spoke.
You giggled at her because this moment was so Ingrid, but at the same time, it tugged on your heart strings. Her words put things into perspective for you about everything that had happened since you left Germany, and though there had been lows, there were so many more highs than you realised. Even still, the best was yet to come.
There wasn’t a single part of you that would ever get tired of hearing how proud and happy Ingrid was for you. You’d looked up to her since the moment you met her, she was an example to you, like a big sister. No way would you be the person you were without her. She’s one of those people you hold onto for life, and you would spend the rest of yours trying to repay her for everything she’d done for you.
The next morning, when Ingrid woke up alone in your shared hotel room, she wasn’t even surprised, nor was she the slightest bit concerned for your whereabouts. There was only one place you would be, and though you cruelly abandoned her some point during the night, the sight of you walking in with Alexia, wearing her training jersey with 11 printed on it, her arm around your shoulders as you giggled at something she said to you, was very much welcome.
—
When something wasn’t quite right with Alexia, your entire world felt off-kilt, until you got to the bottom of what was up with her. Sometimes she’d willingly come to you for some support and comfort, other times she was reluctant, and very much stuck in her own head.
Like, for example, just before the season started ramping up, she got a minor muscle injury that’d keep her out for a couple weeks. Everyone knew how it’d make her feel, but it was up to you to be there and reassure her that no, the world wasn’t ending, and yes, she could be the little spoon for that evening.
Alexia was a bit of a doom-thinker, which not many people knew about, but it was the truth. The moment she was told some bad news, there was a frown paired with a scowl which both were so deeply imprinted on her face, if there was a gust of strong wind, she might actually, genuinely, get stuck like that. Her mind worked on overdrive, thinking and thinking and thinking until she could land on the fastest solution to whatever was wrong. When there wasn’t an immediate solution, well… you wouldn’t be surprised if her head exploded.
So, after having gone home before Alexia was done with her physio assessment, you raced back as soon as you could the second one of the Barca staff told you she was still there, on her own, watching the B-team’s training session. You had tried ringing her, though you knew her phone was most likely sitting in her bag in the locker room as she attempted to gain some peace of mind. The captain had apparently been there for quite some time, however, and you felt she’d had enough time on her own to process it before she needed the care of someone she loved.
She sat on the second-to-top row of the bleachers, hood up and cap on with her hands in her pockets, slumped back against her chair as her eyes tracked every movement of the young players in front of her. You approached her quietly and cautiously, as if trying not to spook away some sort of wild, erratic, unpredictable animal. But no, it was just your emotionally inept girlfriend- inept only when it came to football and injuries.
Even though she could definitely hear you, she gave nothing away.
“Ale? Can I sit with you, or would you like some more time on your own?” You asked gently, the blonde staying silent. “I can leave if you’d like. Just thought I’d come check on you.”
After a second or two, she shook her head and waved you over. She didn’t really know what to say, her mind was split in half and each side was fighting it out between being angry and being logical. She knew she’d be back in no time, but there were still games missed. Missed games, missed opportunities.
You took the seat beside her and tried to get a read on her face, which was entirely emotionless apart from the way she pursed her lips and the slight scowl she had that couldn’t be blamed on the sun, thanks to her hat. Without really knowing how she felt, you didn’t know what to do. Alexia had never lashed out at you to ever give you the wrong idea, but you really didn’t want to say the wrong thing and make her feel worse, or angry.
That was until, about a minute after you sat down, she shuffled a little closer in her seat to where you sat, her shoulder just slightly brushing against yours. You knew that was her silently reaching out, so you complied easily, and rested a hand on her thigh, which she immediately grasped onto with her own.
“It is so annoying.” You heard her say some time later, her voice just a whisper which had the tiniest crack of emotion in it. “And I am annoyed that I feel annoyed.”
Her eyes were still unmoving from the pitch, but as you looked at her, you smiled sadly, and slipped your hand out of hers to wrap an arm around her shoulders. You coaxed her closer to you, glad when she leaned your head against yours. You would never wish for her to be in this position or a situation similar, but right now you knew she was okay and safe, so you relished in the fact she sought you out, like you did when the roles were reversed. It was the wrong moment to think such a thing, but you were almost relieved that she also needed you when she was going through a difficult time, like you needed her.
“I know. Nobody expects you to just sit back, take this news, and not be angry that an injury has come when you’re so in form. And when the team needs everybody because it’s going to get hectic soon. Let yourself feel frustrated, you’re allowed to and expected to. But when we wake up tomorrow, you’re gonna come here, and you’re gonna get on with rehab because that is your mindset. You know, when you get up in the morning, these resentful feelings will have gone. You just have to feel them.” You settled on reminding her that she knows she will get past it, because it was the truth, and trying to sugarcoat anything or pretending like all was okay would have been the wrong way to go about this situation.
Alexia was ineffably grateful. For you coming to be beside her, for your words, and just for you overall. She always found these first moments after bad news difficult, but the road ahead of her seemed so much clearer with every bit of reassurance you gave.
“And you will be with me, huh?” She turned to you with a slight smirk, an act you knew was a classic performance of fake it ‘til you make it. If she acted confident, maybe she would start to feel somewhat sure of herself again.
“And I will be with you for every second of it. Every second.” You told her with a bright smile, and the combination of that and your dedication to her also brought a smile of her own to her face. “You are the most determined person I have ever met. But it is human to have blips. It’s why I’m here; to try to make you feel better because you don’t have to go through blips alone.”
Somehow, you were saying all the right things, even if you thought you were just muddling through an internal checkbook of ‘things people say to each other during hard times.’ Seeing Alexia with a smile on her face compared to the stormy expression she wore when you arrived was a huge boost in confidence. Even more so when she turned her body towards you and ducked her head down so that she could rest her chin on your shoulder as she brought you in for a hug that comforted you just as much as it did her.
“Thank you for coming here.” She mumbled into your jacket, and you kissed her cheek afterwards.
“Always. It is my duty to the team, no?” You couldn’t help but grin in triumph when she laughed, slightly muffled by your clothes, but she laughed nevertheless. “And as your girlfriend, I suppose.”
“You suppose.”
“Fine. It is my duty, a duty I take very seriously. A duty I’m very good at, considering I’ve got you here in my arms, laughing like you didn’t look like you wanted to watch the world burn when I arrived.”
“You are… annoying. Cocky, smug, and annoying. Stop it.”
—
You were serious when you said you’d be there every second along her rehab. As you had told her, it was a duty you took very seriously. But how serious, Alexia didn’t know in that instance at the training ground.
One of your favourite love languages for others was gift giving, you were sort of known as the best present-buyer with everyone you know, because that was also another thing you did not joke about. Though, it was your spontaneity with such a habit that you knew people appreciated most. And who else would be at the top of that long list of people, other than your girlfriend.
Even if you did accidentally almost send her to hospital as you walked into her apartment out of the blue as she sat at her dining table with her headphones on.
Since she was out of playing action and feeling a little useless with what she could give to the team, she basically took it upon herself to take notes of the matches and training sessions that she’d missed whilst she was gone so that she could send them to the team and hope they got good use out of it. That meant her attention was entirely on her laptop and notepad when you walked in, a small gift bag in your hand and a nervous look on your face, which she missed of course.
It wasn’t until you were stood beside her and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder that she jumped out of her skin and slammed her headphones down on the table so hard out of fear, you worried she’d broken them. Then, she exhaled deeply, hand on her heart as she worked to slow it down once she noticed it was you. Unfortunately for her, you had no control over the laughter that bubbled out of you at her dramatic reaction, to which she groaned and pulled you closer with an arm around your waist, hiding her face in your stomach out of embarrassment.
At that point, you noticed something very convenient for the gift you had bought her. Her hair was tied up into a messy bun, making your life so much easier.
“Close your eyes, Ale. I have something for you, you’re not allowed to see it.”
“Why get me something if I cannot see what it is?” She argued, putting on that frustratingly endearing faux innocent expression she often put on when trying to fight her case over something small and light-hearted like this.
“Just be quiet and do what I say.” You told her, attempting to be stern but it was entirely futile when she gazed up at you like that, and before you’d even finished your sentence, there was a smile on your face.
Despite how she rolled her eyes teasingly, she closed her eyes and sat still, waiting for whatever you had in store for her. As she sat there, she could hear you reaching into the bag she spotted and taking something out of it, but other than that, she was none the wiser to what her surprise was. Her eyebrows shot up when she felt you lay something delicate around her neck.
“Engel, what have you done?” She enquired, her eyes still shut as she fought the urge to open them prematurely.
You stayed silent, making sure the present was secure, before tapping her shoulder to indicate you were done and stepping back shyly. The second she opened her eyes, she fixed you with a knowing, accusatory glare, before standing and heading over to the mirror, where her face lit up at what she saw.
A dainty gold chain sat perfectly across her neckline, a simple piece of jewellery that immediately jumped up to the top of her favourites. There wasn’t anything outrightly extravagant about it, it was discreet and meant to be worn with daily casual clothes, but Alexia wondered how she’d gone without it for so long, because it was truly perfect. She couldn’t find a better word to describe it. Maybe priceless, because the sentiment behind it was even more beautiful to her than the appearance of it.
You had gone out with some friends having woken up without Alexia beside you that morning with no plans to see each other that day. Yet, there you were, showing up out of the blue with a surprise that she treasured after having it in her possession for no more than a minute. It was supposed to be an entirely inconspicuous day for the pair of you, but that flew out the window when you decided to get her a gift that could probably never be topped.
Alexia never really found herself as someone that people randomly bought gifts for. Sure, her mother and her sister might spot something and get it for her, but other than that, everyone assumed she had everything she could ever need, what with her wages and her sponsors and bonuses for all the thirty titles she’d won. She never would have known that a necklace could evoke such a whirlwind of emotion throughout her. It stuck in her mind, on repeat, over and over; you went out shopping with friends, without Alexia even jokingly asking for a present, and had seen something which made you think of her. And you even went so far as to buy it for her, and then surprise her at her own apartment with no warning.
“It’s just something small, I know it’s not all that special, but I saw it and thought of you and deci-”
The blonde had a habit of cutting you off when you rambled insecurely, though it wasn’t something you had a particular distaste for. Every time she did so, she stopped you in your tracks and did something that pulled each anxiety from your mind until you forgot what you were even worrying about. Whether that be by talking, or drawing you in for a hug, or offering a distraction, or in this case, indulging in the overwhelming amount of love she felt by kissing the life out of you.
Though, for her, that still wasn’t enough of an expression of her feelings, so just as you caught up with her she pulled away. Her arms were around your waist in an instant, and she lifted you up off the ground and spun you both around, like movie stars in the rain. However, thankfully you were both warm and majoritively dry in the comfort of Alexia’s apartment- majoritively dry, because there were… tears on your neck?
“Are you crying?” You asked in disbelief, surprised that she’d have such a reaction to just a necklace.
“Yes. Yes I am.” Alexia answered with a laugh, using one of her hands to hastily brush away the endless tears that fell. “I am crying because you bought me a necklace. For no reason, you bought me a necklace, and I really l-love that. It means a lot to m-me, amor.”
Her reaction almost had you crying too; she was adorable, and you hugged her tighter because it felt like that was all you could do. Every day with her, she showed a new side to who she was away from Alexia Putellas, the merciless footballer that was no match for anyone. This version, this emotional, choked up version of her was so heart-warming, part of you wished the world could see it, whilst the rest of you relished in the fact you were the only person to see it. Only you could make her cry over a necklace, and as weird as that was, it was your badge of honour you’d wear with pride.
Perhaps your bank account wouldn’t agree, but you’d buy her a dainty gold chain everyday of the year if it meant she felt at least half as loved as she made you feel.
—
Somewhere along the way since you first fell in love with Alexia, Barcelona officially became… home.
Germany was never home, you always knew you’d move away at some point. You liked the city you were in, you thought you loved it at the time, but… Barcelona introduced to you what love actually was, and it was Alexia.
You didn’t know what life had waiting for you years down the line, and if you thought about that and its unknowns for too long, you would send yourself into an anxious tizzy that was entirely unnecessary. For now, you were the happiest you’d ever been, and it just so happened that you were in Barcelona when that happened. The city was dreamy, though so was the woman you were in love with. So were your friends. Everything about your life was the best it’d ever been.
That, unsurprisingly to you, opened up a world of daydreams and scenarios to think about. The first on your agenda, which was a terrifying one if it didn’t go your way: would Alexia ever want to live with you?
“Ale? Can we talk about something?” You said out of the blue as the pair of you walked along a beach in Madeira, hand in hand as the waves lapped calmly over your feet and the sun and the sky flaunted its beauty with shades of purples, pinks, and oranges, painting the perfect, serene background to a conversation sure to bring some anxiety.
“Of course. Anything. Do you want to sit down and talk?” Alexia suggested, taking you both a little higher up the sand after you nodded. She took a seat first, before looking up at you with a welcoming smile as you paused for a moment, then sat down.
It was probably ridiculous and childish that you thought so, but you hated how the dynamic of any kind of relationship could change with one conversation. With what you were about to say, you felt sick at the possible outcomes. You knew what you were about to say, whilst Alexia was blissfully unaware of the storm you were about to kick up. The words were on the tip of your tongue as you looked at her, and your mouth opened and closed for a few moments as you built up the courage to speak them. Eventually, you did, and Alexia waited patiently throughout your internal warfare.
“Would you… ever want to, maybe, live together? One day?”
For a few brief moments (the worst of your life), Alexia didn’t respond. In that short time, your anxiety reached whole new heights, convincing you that the next words out of Alexia’s mouth would be her breaking up with you. They weren’t, of course they weren’t.
“I would love to. I really would.” She admitted coyly, smiling and shaking her head at the utter look of shock on your face. “I have been thinking about this for some time, I just didn’t know how to bring it up. So, please, tell me what you think.”
“What I think?” Alexia nodded, a comforting hand landing on your knee. “Well… I don’t know how we would do it.”
“What do you mean? We just decide whose apartment to move to and do that, no?”
It wasn’t that simple, unfortunately. This was something you did indeed have a lot of thoughts on, and maybe it’d be those that would finally scare her off.
Alexia was amazing at understanding, but she wasn’t perfect. Nobody could blame her for not being clued in on something like this, especially since it was the first time you were talking about it together.
“I… that wouldn’t work. Not for me anyway.” You started, a little disheartened by the frown that formed on her face. Still, you explained yourself. “If I moved into your apartment, it wouldn’t feel like my home. I love your apartment, I do, but it’s your apartment and always has been. If you moved into my apartment, that would mean that… it’s not my space anymore. Which makes no sense at all because it obviously would be, but… I don’t know how to explain it best. It’s…”
You trailed off, frustrated at how you couldn’t properly articulate yourself in such a delicate situation. But, now that she was clued in, Alexia understood exactly what you meant.
Your apartment was your dedicated space; having someone move in, no matter who it was, would feel like having an intruder there at all times. Everything would be different in your mind, even if the only physical difference was Alexia, your girlfriend. It’d take you months, or probably even years, to get used to it. And you know you couldn’t live like that, even if you so desperately wanted to.
Living with Alexia in her apartment would be even worse. You know her apartment as a visitor, but not as a resident. If you lived there, it would constantly feel like you were in someone else’s home and not your own. These two things, though they may be the easiest options theoretically, would cause all kinds of hell for you and probably reverse all the progress you’d made since moving to Spain. It would put strain on everything, from your relationships, to the football you played, to your mental health, everything. It just wasn’t a feasible or healthy option.
“I understand that, mi amor. I understand all that you said.” Alexia tried to reassure you, but you could see the sadness in her eyes that she tried to disguise. She was upset by this new revelation, and that wrecked you. “Please don’t feel guilty about it though. I am not mad or anything.”
You nodded and avoided her eyes, focussing your attention on the ocean in front of you and crossing your arms, like you were protecting yourself. You pulled away from your girlfriend to get away from the inevitable pain of her pulling away instead. Alexia realised that and had to suppress a sigh, not one of annoyance or along those lines, but out of concern, because she could see that turmoil this conversation had caused you.
She decided to give you a couple minutes to think on your own, wondering if that’s what you’d need to process all that had just occurred. She was right to do that, because you did something rare. Rather than dwelling on the negative outcomes of what just happened, you tried your best to make something good out of it.
Because, in the end, relationships were all about compromise.
“Maybe, next year or next season or whatever, we…” You paused to take a breath, then addressed Alexia directly. She met you with a curious and open gaze, wordlessly encouraging you to get whatever it was off your chest. “We revisit this conversation, and… look at houses together?”
A new, shared space would work. A blank canvas for you both to work together on, to figure out together, to make a house into a home, together.
Alexia’s wide, bright smile was worth more than anything else in the world. One second, she was sat beside you, and the next, she had lunged forward to tackle you to the soft gold ground beneath you, putting her weight on you as she leaned down to shower you with the surge of adoration she felt. She peppered kisses all over your face and down to your neck, eliciting a surprised giggle out of you that was priceless to her.
Your future, your shared future with the woman that lay on top of you, was in sight and near enough solidified. In a few years, you might not be a Barcelona player, football might take you down a completely different road, but the one you were on now, where you had plans to buy a house with Alexia, was enough for now, enough to settle the anxiety you always got when you thought about the future, because things were pretty good at that moment.
And to tie off an all-round very successful conversation, Alexia said something that summarised your whole relationship in only a single sentence.
“Whatever you want to do, we will do, because seeing you happy makes me happy also.”
—
depending on the reaction to this, i have no idea when or if there will be another story after this one. very anxious to post for reverie after all that happened because people have not so fun opinions about this overall topic that can and will wreck me which is pretty scary so :)
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Why do young kids sound so adult in old letters? Not just the ones you share, in general. It's one of the things that puzzles me about Yes Virginia, There is A Santa Claus. Were educational standards stricter? Was it actually parents writing for them?
If I had to guess, I'd say a decent part of this could be due to the fact that everyday, standard English at the time used a structure and level of formality we now associate with the elderly. It's similar to how teenagers in the past look older to us in part because we associate the styles of their hair and makeup with our parents and grandparents.
The first particular piece of syntax that popped into my head when I read this message is the placement of the word "have" in sentence structure. It used to be standard English grammar to begin questions about items or traits people possess with "have" rather than "do you have"; e.g. "Have you a pencil?" vs. "Do you have a pencil?".
If I were to hear the question "Have you any presents you'd like for Christmas?" my mind would default to imagining a formal, elderly person, as that's the only type of person I've ever personally heard use that syntax.
I think what we sometimes fail to consciously realize is that the stuffy, formal, 90 year old grandmothers we talk to didn't spontaneously start talking like that once they reached a certain age. They were taught certain grammar rules as children and continued to use them throughout their lives. We only associate that type of language with the elderly as the only people still alive to use it are now very old.
Education in the past also relied much more heavily on rote memorization and repetition, which I'd imagine caused people to more strictly adhere to the things they learned, including grammar, than we do now.
Children were taught in school how to write formal letters and those lessons were carried over even in letters to Santa.
I imagine in the future the phrase "I hope this email finds you well" is going to end up seeming (even more) oddly formal and dated, but people use it because that's what we were taught to do.
That being said, there are definitely Dear Santa letters written by parents, especially if the child is very young - but after 14 years of doing this I think I've developed a pretty good eye for spotting these. That's why I rarely post letters from children under school-age, with the exception of what I've taken to calling "toddler transcription" where the parents write down what their young child says word for word.
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