#while i no longer personally see the appeal i'm glad it was enjoyed

[peridots-pixiwolf]

[Start ID. A digital drawing of Leif from Bug Fables in bright colors on a purple background. He is standing with his wings open, blocks of ice levitate above one raised hand and the other points at the ground. His sharp, insectoid features are emphasized somewhat. He isn’t incredibly expressive, but seems to hold himself in a determined manner. End ID]

Leif should get to be bright and spiky sometimes. as a treat

[mononijikayu]

casual — geto suguru.

You nodded, trying to keep your expression neutral. "Yeah, it was nice. Just, you know, casual." "Right, casual. I know, doll." Suguru echoed, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer before he looked away. "No strings attached." "Exactly, yeah…." you said, forcing a smile. "We're both busy, and this doesn't have to mean anything more than... what it was." "Yeah." he said, his voice a bit quieter. "Just a one-time thing. No need to complicate things."

GENRE: Alternate Universe - Canon Convergence;

WARNING/s: Angst, Unrequited Love, Romance, Casual Friends with Benefit, Falling In Love, Lack of Communication, Hurt/Comfort, Depression, Food, Disassociation, Smut, Depiction of Sexual Intercourse, Depiction of Depression, Depiction of Food Withdrawal, Depiction of Disassociation;

WORDS: 6k words.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this took me awhile to write and i wish it didn't but i was busy trying to help my brother heal up from his own fever and then i also felt unwell after going out and visiting my cousins. crazy week so far, but i'm glad to be writing again!!! i'll be publishing pasilyo tomorrow!!! i hope you enjoy this and see you soon <3

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YOU HATE THIS APARTMENT. You know you picked it out. You went through the painstaking process of finding the best you could afford in all of Tokyo, sifting through countless listings, visiting countless open houses, and scrutinizing every detail with a critical eye. You even reached out to Nanami, seeking his advice on how he had found his own place, hoping his insight would guide you to something perfect. 

But now, standing in the middle of the empty apartment, it just feels overwhelming. The walls seem to close in around you, their pristine surfaces a harsh reminder of the solitude that awaits you. The space, while objectively beautiful and well-chosen, feels alien and unwelcoming. The soft, neutral colors and high-end finishes that once seemed so appealing now appear cold and impersonal, like a display in a showroom rather than a home.

Each corner, every room, is meticulously arranged, yet it all feels distant, disconnected. The furniture you carefully selected—elegant, stylish pieces that should have brought comfort—now feels like mere props in a stage set, lacking the warmth and familiarity of a true home. The shelves stand empty, the walls bare, and the lack of personal touches only amplifies the feeling of displacement.

You had envisioned this place as a haven, a refuge where you could build a new chapter of your life. Yet now, it feels like a stark reminder of everything you’ve lost, of the gaping void left by Suguru’s absence and the weight of the decisions that brought you here. The reality of living alone in such a polished, empty space contrasts sharply with the vibrant, chaotic life you once had, and the dissonance is almost too much to bear.

The once-anticipated comfort of the apartment now feels like a cage, trapping you in a space that reflects the isolation and emotional distance you’re struggling to overcome. You try to imagine filling the space with personal belongings, with memories that would make it truly yours, but the task feels daunting, almost insurmountable. Each step you take feels heavy, burdened by the weight of unfulfilled expectations and the deep, pervasive sadness that lingers in every corner of this new, unwelcoming environment.

Since Haibara died and Suguru defected, the world has felt irreparably altered. Their absence has left a void not just in your life but in the very fabric of the world you once knew. Their departures were seismic shifts, upheavals that have reshaped everything—your sense of security, your understanding of your place in the world, and the very essence of who you are. The bonds you once relied on have frayed, the connections you took for granted have been severed, and you are left grappling with a reality that seems both unfamiliar and unkind.

The change is not just in the external world but within yourself. The person you were before all these events feels like a distant memory, replaced by someone who struggles to find meaning and connection in the aftermath of loss and betrayal. How could you not change when everything around you has been transformed so drastically? The world has moved on, and you are left to navigate its new contours alone.

People are worried about you. The concern is palpable, especially from Gojo Satoru, who has always been like a brother to you, a constant in a world that has become increasingly unpredictable. His worry is perhaps the most poignant, reflecting the deep bond you share and the impact of your struggles on those who care about you. His concern is a reminder that while you feel isolated, there are still people who want to help, who see the pain you’re enduring, and who are willing to support you even as you grapple with the overwhelming weight of your new reality.

He’d been trying to reach you for weeks, his calls and messages a persistent thread in the silence of your days. Each notification from Gojo felt like a distant echo, a reminder of the world outside the narrow confines of your apartment. Yet, each time you saw his name on your screen, you hesitated, unable to muster the energy to respond. The weight of the past was a constant companion, keeping you awake through endless nights.

The dreams, when they came, were a cruel mockery of the life you once knew. Each night was filled with hauntingly vivid memories of better times with Suguru—laughter shared in quiet moments, his touch, and the warmth of his presence that now felt like an elusive phantom. The contrast between those dreams and the stark reality of your waking life was almost too much to bear.

Food, once a source of comfort and nourishment, had become a meaningless necessity. The meals you prepared, though carefully chosen, lay untouched on the counter. Their taste had lost all appeal, a reflection of the emptiness that now colored every aspect of your existence. Eating had become a mere act of survival, a stark reminder of the joy that had been stripped away.

The outside world, with its bustling streets and vibrant energy, felt distant, almost foreign. Tokyo’s vibrant chaos seemed to exist in a different realm, one that you could observe but not truly engage with. The city that once felt like a living, breathing entity now felt like a backdrop to your solitary struggle, its noise and activity a harsh contrast to the silence of your own life.

It was on one of these evenings, shrouded in solitude, that Gojo finally appeared at your door. His concern was palpable, a stark reminder of how far you’d retreated from those who cared about you. When you opened the door, he stood there, his face a mixture of frustration and worry.

“I’ve been calling you for weeks.” he said, his voice heavy with concern. “Are you okay? I haven’t heard from you in ages.”

You tried to muster a smile, but it fell short, your exhaustion too profound to conceal. “Oh, Gojo. I didn’t expect you.”

He stepped inside, his eyes quickly taking in the state of your apartment. The neatness of the space did nothing to hide the emptiness that pervaded it. “You don’t look well.” he said, his cerulean gaze moving to the cold meal on the counter. “I’ve been worried. What’s going on?”

You shrugged, feeling the weight of his scrutiny. “It’s nothing. Just... struggling, I guess. Food doesn’t taste right anymore.”

Gojo moved closer to the counter, his eyes scanning the untouched food. “This isn’t just about food. You need to take care of yourself. When was the last time you had a decent meal? When was the last time you really slept?”

You looked away, your voice trembling as you tried to suppress the tears. “I don’t sleep much. When I do, it’s filled with dreams of Suguru. It’s like he’s everywhere, but also nowhere.”

His expression softened, a flicker of empathy in his eyes. “I get it. You’re missing him. But you can’t let it consume you. You need to find a way to move forward.”

You shook your head, the enormity of the situation pressing down on you. “It’s not that simple. The outside world feels so distant now, almost foreign. I’m just... lost.”

Gojo’s hand gently rested on your shoulder, his touch a grounding presence. “I know…But you can’t do this. He…he wouldn’t want this either.”

You knew that. But you felt a pang of guilt as you tried to reassure Satoru about your well-being. The effort to project a sense of normalcy, to offer him even a glimmer of hope that things might improve, weighed heavily on you. You knew that your struggles were far from over, and while you didn’t want to burden him with the full extent of your despair, the pretense felt like a delicate dance on the edge of honesty.

Because you don’t know how he does it. How he keeps himself from going insane. You wished you did. You wished you could be him. Because you’re exhausted. You wanted to move on. You wanted to be free. But still, you’re here in this cage of grief, living like this. Being in pain. Being empty. 

Your graduation, which should have been a moment of triumph, was marred by his absence. The empty chair next to you was a constant reminder of what you’d lost. Now, in the stillness of your apartment, the silence is deafening. The memories of laughter and shared dreams haunt you, and the loneliness seeps into your bones. 

You can’t help but wonder where he is, what he’s doing, if he ever thinks of you too. Suguru’s defection was more than just a betrayal; it was a fracture, a deep wound that hasn’t healed. And as you sit in the vast emptiness of your apartment, you wonder if it ever will.

Back when you lived in Jujutsu High's dorms, life was different. Shoko would pop by unannounced, always ready to share the latest gossip, her presence a comforting constant. Those moments of laughter and whispered secrets felt like a lifetime ago. Back then, you had Digimon show nights with Satoru, the two of you arguing over favorite characters and plot twists, the banter and camaraderie a soothing balm to the stresses of your training.

And then there were those cold nights when you needed warmth, and Suguru Geto was there. His presence was a refuge, his arms a sanctuary. The conversations you'd have, the plans you'd make for the future, they were all wrapped in a cocoon of shared understanding and affection. His departure left a gaping hole, one that you haven't been able to fill.

Now, you are all alone. Anyone is, with your one’s grief. And now you truly are, separated from everyone else. The silence is oppressive, the loneliness a constant companion. The walls of your new apartment seem to close in on you, a stark reminder of what you once had and what you've lost. The memories of Shoko's gossip, Satoru's laughter, and Suguru's warmth are ghosts that haunt you, their absence a painful reminder of the life you once knew.

In the stillness of the night, you sometimes catch yourself hoping for a knock on the door, for Suguru to walk in with that familiar smile, as if everything could go back to the way it was. But reality is harsh, and you know that those days are gone. All you have now are the memories and the lingering hope that somehow, someday, things might change.

Geto Suguru left without saying anything, that day he went on his mission. He was supposed to be back in a day or two—at least that’s what he said during the phone call you shared when he was on that train. His voice, calm and reassuring, echoed in your mind long after the call ended. But that was the last time you heard his voice. The last time he called you. It was him getting off your seesaw game, finally stepping out of your world and leaving you with nothing but a broken heart.

And yet, he was never your boyfriend. You and him kept up the pretense, a delicate dance of closeness and distance, never truly naming what you had. The word "casual" was used way too much, a shield to protect fragile hearts from the vulnerability of the word "love." You remember the nights spent together, the conversations that felt like they meant something more, but neither of you dared to cross that line.

You often think back to that call, replaying every word, every nuance in his voice. It was supposed to be just another mission, nothing out of the ordinary. But something shifted, something changed, and Suguru never came back. His departure was like a cruel twist of fate, leaving you grappling with unanswered questions and unspoken feelings.

In the aftermath, you were left to navigate the wreckage alone. The routines you shared, the subtle intimacy of your connection, all shattered. The memories of his touch, his laugh, the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t watching—they haunt you, a bittersweet reminder of what could have been.

You’ve tried to move on, to piece together a semblance of normalcy, but the void Suguru left is vast and unrelenting. The "casual" facade you both maintained now feels like a cruel joke, the missed opportunities for something deeper, more meaningful, a constant source of regret. You wonder if he ever felt the same, if he ever wanted to bridge the gap between you, but the answers are lost to the silence he left behind.

The seesaw game you played, the delicate balance of give and take, is now a lonely ride. You’re left suspended in midair, longing for the weight of his presence to bring you back down. But all you have are memories and the lingering ache of a love that was never fully realized, a connection that was always just out of reach.

The room was quiet, the only sound was the soft hum of the city outside the window. You lay there, the sheets tangled around your legs, your mind spinning with a mix of emotions. Suguru was next to you, propped up on one elbow, his dark eyes watching you intently.

"That was... something." you finally said, breaking the silence.

Suguru chuckled softly, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Yeah, it was," he agreed. "Unexpected, but not unwelcome."

You nodded, trying to keep your expression neutral. "Yeah, it was nice. Just, you know, casual."

"Right, casual. I know, doll." Suguru echoed, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer before he looked away. "No strings attached."

"Exactly, yeah…." you said, forcing a smile. "We're both busy, and this doesn't have to mean anything more than... what it was."

"Yeah." he said, his voice a bit quieter. "Just a one-time thing. No need to complicate things."

You felt a pang in your chest but ignored it, keeping your tone light. "Right, no need to complicate things. We have enough going on with our missions and training."

"Absolutely, you’re right." Suguru said, but his purple eyes told a different story. There was a flicker of something deeper, something more, but it was quickly masked by a casual smile. "We're just two friends who had a good time."

"Exactly." you repeated, wishing you could believe it. "......Just two friends."

Suguru reached out, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. "I don't want this to change anything between us, doll." he said softly. "I value what we have."

You nodded, your heart pounding. "Me too. This doesn't have to change anything."

He smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Good. I'm glad we agree."

You both lay there for a moment longer, the weight of unspoken words hanging between you. Finally, Suguru sighed and rolled onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. "So, breakfast?"

You laughed, the tension breaking slightly. "Yeah, breakfast sounds good."

You felt like crying again, and you hated it. You hated yourself for it. Because there was nothing between you and Suguru. You were casual. It’s been a year, and there was nothing after that. He left you. He chose his path. He chose to burn the world to free himself from torment. But now, you are in torment. 

You sat on the edge of your bed, the weight of the silence pressing down on you. The memories of that night haunted you, the way he had looked at you, the way his touch had set your skin on fire. It was casual. Just a one-time thing. That’s what you told yourself, what you both agreed on. But the lie felt like a knife twisting in your gut now.

Suguru had left, and with him, he took the future you had secretly hoped for. You were in love with him. You didn’t want anything to be casual with him. You didn’t want it to be nothing. You wanted more, so much more, and now you knew you would never get anything.

The tears threatened to spill over, and you clenched your fists, trying to hold them back. You hated how weak you felt, how vulnerable. The world moved on, but you were stuck, trapped in a web of your own making. Suguru’s absence was a constant ache, a reminder of what you had lost, what you could never have.

He chose his path, and it led him away from you. It led him to destruction, to a darkness that swallowed him whole. And now, you were left to pick up the pieces of your shattered heart, alone in the vast emptiness of your new apartment. The echoes of your own thoughts were deafening, and the realization that you would never see him again, never hear his voice, never feel his touch—it was almost too much to bear.

You buried your face in your hands, the tears finally escaping, hot and bitter. The sobs wracked your body, each one a painful reminder of your unspoken feelings. You had wanted so much more, but you had been too afraid to ask, too afraid to risk the fragile balance you had. And now, it was too late.

Suguru was gone, and with him, any chance of something more. You were left with memories and regrets, with the knowledge that he had chosen his path, and you were not a part of it. The torment of unrequited love consumed you, a relentless ache that you couldn’t escape. You cried for what was, for what could have been, and for the future that would never be.

There was a strange stillness in the air, a quiet that felt almost suffocating. It felt different tonight. You sat on the edge of your bed, staring blankly at the wall, your thoughts a tangled mess of memories and regrets. The knock on your door was so soft, you almost didn't hear it. For a moment, you thought you had imagined it, but then it came again, more insistent this time.

You wiped your eyes, forcing yourself to stand. Each step toward the door felt like walking through quicksand, your heart pounding in your chest. You weren't expecting anyone. As you reached for the doorknob, a part of you wondered if you were dreaming, if the grief had finally driven you mad.

You opened the door slowly, the hinges creaking in protest. And there he was. Geto Suguru stood in the doorway, looking every bit as if you remembered him, but different somehow. His eyes held a depth of sadness, a haunted look that mirrored your own. He seemed exhausted. As much as you, you think. But you say nothing for a few moments. You just stare at him, as though trying to be sure you weren’t hallucinating. 

"Suguru?" Your voice was barely a whisper, the word catching in your throat.

He gave you a small, almost hesitant smile. "Hey."

"What are you doing here?" you asked, your voice trembling with emotions. “Why—”

"I needed to see you, doll." he said softly. "I just had to see you tonight….will you let me in?”

You don’t know how he found out your address. Or how he was able to know which apartment block yours was. But you didn’t say anything. You didn’t want to force anything tonight. You nodded and stepped back, allowing him to enter. The silence between you was heavy, filled with all the words that had been left unsaid. You closed the door and turned to face him, your heart aching with a mix of hope and fear.

"Why now?" you asked, your eyes searching for him. “Why come back to me now? I….I’m not…”

He looks at you, almost longingly. “I don’t know.”

The weight of Suguru's confession hung in the air, but before you could process it, he spoke again, breaking the silence. "I know this is unexpected. I know I don't have the right to just show up here like this, but I need to talk to you.”

You stepped back, the doorway now feeling like a chasm between you. "Suguru, this is a bad idea. You shouldn’t be—”

He took a hesitant step inside, his presence filling the space. "I just want to talk. Please."

The room felt smaller, more suffocating, with him in it. The tension was palpable, a fragile thread that could snap at any moment. He glanced around the room, his eyes lingering on familiar objects—things that hadn't changed since he left. Things he wished wouldn't change. From the corner of his eye, he could see it. That uniform button he left behind. He purses his lips.

"How are you?" he asked, his voice low and careful.

You crossed your arms, trying to hold yourself together. "How do you think I am, Suguru? There's an order to kill you on the spot. If people find out you're here with me, the higher ups will get me.”

He flinched at your words, a shadow passing over his face. "I know the risks. I wouldn't have come if I didn't think it was important."

You shook your head, frustration and fear mingling in your chest. "Important? You think this is important? You left, Suguru. You choose your path, and it has nothing to do with me. Now you show up out of nowhere, and you want to talk?"

"I had to." he said, his voice almost pleading. "I've made so many mistakes, but leaving you was the worst one. I had to see you, to tell you how I feel."

Your heart ached at his words, but the reality of the situation loomed large. "And what do you expect me to do with that information? Do you want me to just forgive and forget? To pretend like everything's fine when it's not?"

He took another step closer, his eyes searching yours. "I don't expect anything. I just needed you to know. I needed to try and make things right."

You looked away, the emotions swirling inside you too much to bear. "Suguru, you don't understand. It's not just about us. If they find out you're here, they'll kill you. And I'll be branded a traitor."

He nodded slowly, understanding the gravity of your words. "I know. And I'm sorry for putting you in this position. But I couldn't stay away. Not anymore."

The room was thick with tension, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on you both. You wanted to reach out, to bridge the gap between you, but the fear of the consequences held you back.

"I don't know what to do." you admitted, your voice breaking. "I don't know how…I don’t know how to handle this."

Suguru stepped closer, his hand hovering near yours. "You don't have to do anything. Just let me be here, even if it's just for a little while. Let me be with you."

You looked up at him, the pain and regret in his eyes mirroring your own. The risk was enormous, but the pull of your heart was stronger. For a moment, you allowed yourself to imagine that things could be different, that maybe, somehow, you could find a way through this together.

But reality crashed back down, harsh and unyielding. "Suguru, this can't last. You know that."

He nodded, his expression filled with sorrow. "I know. But for now, can we just..."

You took a deep breath, the conflict tearing you apart. "Okay. For now."

Suguru’s eyes softened at your words, relief washing over his features. The air between you was thick with unspoken emotions, the tension palpable. You could feel your resolve wavering, the walls you had built around your heart crumbling with every passing second.

He took another step closer, closing the distance between you. His hand reached out, gently brushing against yours. The touch was electric, sending a shiver down your spine. You looked up at him, your breath catching in your throat as his gaze held yours.

“For now.” he repeated softly, his voice filled with a mixture of hope and longing.

You couldn’t hold back any longer. The months of separation, the endless nights of aching for him, all came crashing down in that moment. You closed the gap between you, your lips finding his in a desperate, hungry kiss.

Suguru responded instantly, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer. The kiss was intense, filled with all the emotions you had both kept bottled up for so long. It was as if you were trying to make up for lost time, to pour all your love and longing into that single, searing connection.

Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, needing to feel him, to assure yourself that he was really there. Suguru’s hands roamed over your back, his touch igniting a fire within you. The kiss deepened, growing more fervent, more desperate. You broke the kiss just long enough to catch your breath, your foreheads resting against each other. The intensity of your emotions left you both breathless, but neither of you pulled away.

“Suguru.” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of everything you felt.

“I know.” he murmured, his breath warm against your lips. “I know.”

You kissed him again, this time even more passionately, your need for him overwhelming any lingering doubts. His hands slid under your shirt, his touch sending sparks of electricity through your body. You gasped against his lips, your body responding to him in ways you had tried to forget.

The world outside ceased to exist, the only thing that mattered was Suguru. Being here with you. The kiss grew more intense, a fierce clash of lips and tongues, as if you were both trying to make up for the lost time, for all the moments you had been apart.

Suguru’s hands moved to your waist, lifting you effortlessly and guiding you toward the bed. You didn’t resist, your body craving his touch, his closeness. As he laid you down gently, his lips never leaving yours, you felt a sense of rightness, a feeling that this was where you were meant to be.

His body pressed against yours, the heat between you growing more intense. Every touch, every kiss, was a reminder of what you had lost and found again. Your hands roamed over his back, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of him.

“Suguru.” you whispered, your voice filled with a mixture of need and desperation.

He responded with a soft groan, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “I’ve missed you so much, doll.” he murmured against your skin. “Too much…”

You arched into his touch, your body responding to him in ways you had almost forgotten. The intensity of your desire for him was overwhelming, a force you couldn’t control. You pulled him back up, capturing his lips in another searing kiss.

As the kiss deepened, the intensity grew, the passion between you igniting like a wildfire. And for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to hope, to believe that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for something more.

The walls themselves felt like they were closing in, drawn tighter by the charged energy of the moment. The temperature seemed to rise with every movement, the warmth of your bodies pressed together creating a cocoon of intimacy and passion. 

You moaned against the kiss, feeling his hand around the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair. He was always so good at making you defenseless when it came to him. When it came to Suguru, you surrendered without a fight.

His lips trailed down your jawline, planting heated kisses along the sensitive skin of your neck. Each touch sent shivers down your spine, your body arching into him, craving more. His other hand roamed over your back, his touch firm yet gentle, as if he were memorizing every inch of you.

"You have no idea how much I've missed this." he whispered against your skin, his breath hot and tantalizing. “How much I missed you.”

You could barely form words, your mind clouded with desire. "S–suguru…." you breathed, your voice trembling with need.

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his own gaze dark with intensity. "Say it, doll." he urged, his voice a low, husky command. “Use your words.”

"Suguru, please." you repeated, feeling the heat of his name on your lips, the weight of it in the air between you. “I need you.”

A satisfied smile curved his lips before he kissed you again, deeper this time, his tongue exploring your mouth with a fierce, possessive hunger. You responded eagerly, your hands clutching at his shoulders, pulling him closer, needing to feel him, to lose yourself in him.

His hand slid down from your neck to the small of your back, pulling you against him, your bodies fitting together perfectly. The sensation was almost overwhelming, a mix of intense pleasure and deep, unfulfilled longing. Your heart pounded in your chest, the sound echoing in your ears, drowning out any remaining doubts.

As the kiss grew more fervent, more desperate, you felt yourself melting into him, your defenses crumbling with every touch, every caress. Suguru had always had this effect on you, this ability to make you forget everything else, to make you feel like you were the only two people in the world.

"I missed you." you whispered against his lips, the confession slipping out before you could stop it.

He groaned in response, his hand sliding up under your shirt, his touch searing against your skin. "I missed you too, doll." he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "More than you know."

As he continued to kiss you, his hands exploring your body with a reverence that made your heart ache, you realized that no matter what happened next, no matter the consequences, this moment was worth it. Being with Suguru, feeling his love, his desire, his need—it was everything you had ever wanted, everything you had been missing.

And in that instant, you knew you would face any danger, any threat, just to keep him here with you, to hold onto this feeling for as long as you could. Because when it came to Suguru, you were willing to surrender without a fight.

The heat between you was almost unbearable, the intensity of your desire for Suguru consuming you. His hands continued their exploration, each touch sending waves of pleasure through your body. You could feel his need, his desperation, mirrored in your own.

"Suguru…" you whispered again, your voice a mix of longing and urgency.

He responded with a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, tasting, exploring. Your hands roamed over his back, pulling him closer, needing to feel every inch of him against you. The sensation of his body pressed against yours was intoxicating, driving you to the brink of madness.

His hand slid under your shirt, his fingers tracing a path up your spine, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips as he reached the clasp of your bra, deftly undoing it. The feeling of his hands on your bare skin was electric, every nerve ending alive with sensation.

"You feel so good, doll." he murmured against your lips, his voice husky with desire. 

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body responding instinctively. You tugged at his shirt, needing to feel his skin against yours. He helped you, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside, revealing the toned muscles of his chest and abdomen.

You ran your hands over his chest, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your touch. He groaned softly, his hands moving to your hips, pulling you closer. The feel of his arousal against your thigh sent a surge of desire through you, your need for him growing more intense with every passing second.

He lifted your shirt over your head, his eyes darkened with lust as he took in the sight of you. "You're beautiful." he said, his voice filled with admiration.

You blushed under his gaze, feeling a mix of shyness and exhilaration. "Suguru." you breathed, reaching for him.

He kissed you again, hungrier than before. You could feel his hands sliding down to your jeans, unbuttoning them with practiced ease. You helped him, pushing the fabric down your hips, kicking them off along with your underwear. The cool air against your skin was a stark contrast to the heat between you, heightening your senses.

Suguru's eyes roamed over your body, his expression one of reverence and hunger. He reached for you, his hands gentle yet firm as he guided you back onto the bed. You lay there, your heart pounding, as he stripped off the rest of his clothes, revealing the full extent of his arousal.

He climbed onto the bed, his body hovering over yours, the heat of his skin radiating against you. He kissed you again, his lips trailing down your neck, your collarbone, his hands exploring every inch of you. The sensation was almost overwhelming, your body arching into his touch, craving more.

"I need you." he whispered against your skin, his voice filled with urgency.

"Then take me." you replied, your voice trembling with anticipation.

He positioned himself between your legs, his hands gripping your hips as he slowly entered you. The sensation was exquisite, a mix of pleasure and pain that left you gasping, your body adjusting to the fullness of him.

"So deep, Su…." you moaned, your hands clutching at his back, your nails digging into his skin.

He moved slowly at first, his strokes deep and measured, his eyes locked onto yours. The intensity of his gaze, the connection between you, was almost too much to bear. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, urging him on.

He responded with a groan, his pace quickening, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. You moved together in perfect rhythm, your bodies melding into one, the world outside fading away.

Every touch, every kiss, every movement—each a story of love and desire you felt for each other. The intensity built with each passing second, your moans mingling with his, the sound of your bodies coming together filling the room.

"S–suguru!" you gasped, feeling the tension building, the climax approaching. “I….I’m close!”

He kissed you deeply, his movements becoming more frantic, more desperate. "I love you, doll." he whispered against your lips, his voice raw with emotion. “More than you know.”

The words sent you over the edge, your body convulsing with pleasure, your vision blurring as the orgasm washed over you. Suguru followed moments later, releasing a powerful, shuddering wave that left him breathless, his body collapsing against yours.

You lay there together, your bodies intertwined, the aftermath of your lovemaking leaving you both spent and sated. For a moment, the world was perfect, the dangers and fears forgotten. In that moment, all that mattered was the love you shared, the connection that bound you together.

Suguru propped himself up on one elbow, his gaze tender as he looked down at you. You turned to face him, your eyes heavy with a mixture of satisfaction and lingering emotions. He stroked your hair gently, his touch soothing. 

"I know I’ve been gone for a long time.”

“You have.”

“I’m sorry for leaving you without any explanation." He whispered to you. “For making you suffer.”

You sighed, closing your eyes as you listened to his words. "It’s been really hard. I didn’t know if you were ever coming back. And when you did… it was like opening old wounds all over again."

Suguru’s fingers traced patterns on your back, his touch calming. "I understand. I’ve had time to think about everything, and I realize now how much I hurt you. I didn’t mean to. But I needed to see you, to try to make things right, even if I’m not sure how."

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with a mix of sadness and hope. "What do you want from me, Suguru? What do we do now?"

He took a deep breath, his expression serious. "I don’t expect things to go back to how they were before. I just want to be honest with you.” 

The sincerity in his voice touched something deep inside you. You took his hand, squeezing it gently. "You’re someone dear to me, Suguru. You always will be.”

You could see how painfully beautiful his smile was. And just as much, how easily he started to grieve this moment. “I know.”

You snuggled closer to him, your body seeking the warmth and comfort of his embrace. As the weight of the conversation and the exhaustion from the emotional rollercoaster began to take their toll, you felt yourself growing drowsy.

Suguru’s arms tightened around you, his presence a soothing balm to your restless heart. "You should get some rest," he murmured, his voice gentle. "I’ll be here until you fall asleep."

You nodded, your eyes fluttering shut as the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat lulled you into a peaceful slumber. The feeling of his body pressed against yours, the gentle caress of his hand on your back, was all you needed to drift off.

When you awoke, it was to the soft, hesitant brush of Suguru’s lips against yours. You stirred, your eyes blinking open to find him gazing at you with a mixture of sadness and affection.

“I have to go, doll,” Suguru said quietly, his voice filled with regret. “But I’ll be thinking of you. Always. Wherever I go, wherever I am. I’ll only love you. Only you.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, each syllable resonating deep within you. You wanted to respond, to find the right words to express how much his declaration meant to you, but the lump in your throat made it difficult to speak.

Instead, you simply reached out, your hand finding his, holding it tightly as if trying to anchor him to this moment. His fingers intertwined with yours, and for a brief second, you found solace in the connection, the warmth of his touch providing a bittersweet comfort.

Suguru leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering as if trying to imprint the memory of your skin on his own. His eyes met yours one last time, filled with an intensity that spoke of a deep and unspoken promise.

“Take care of yourself, doll.” he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath. “Live for me.”

You nodded, your eyes misting as you tried to hold back the tears. “I will. You too, Suguru. Be safe.

He kissed you one last time, a tender, lingering kiss that seemed to hold all the words left unspoken. His lips brushed against yours with a softness that belied the intensity of the emotions swirling between you. It was a kiss that conveyed both farewell and the depth of his feelings, a final, aching promise wrapped in the warmth of his touch.

As he pulled away, his eyes searched for yours, filled with a profound sadness that matched the heaviness in your heart. There was a moment where time seemed to stand still, where every second stretched into eternity. The look he gave you was a mixture of regret and deep affection, as if he were trying to imprint this final moment into his memory, to hold onto it even as he had to let go.

With a final, loving glance, he slowly rose from the bed, the movement reluctant and heavy. The contrast between the intimacy you had shared moments before and the distance growing between you now felt like a cruel irony. He began to dress, his actions slow and methodical, each movement a reminder of the separation that loomed ahead.

You watched him, feeling a hollow ache settle in your chest. The sight of him buttoning his shirt, pulling on his jacket, seemed to magnify the reality of his departure. Each piece of clothing he put on felt like a barrier, a wall being erected between you. The warmth of his touch was replaced by the cold distance of impending goodbye.

When he finally finished dressing, he paused by the door, turning back to you with one last, lingering look. His eyes were filled with a mixture of sorrow and determination, the kind of gaze that promised he would carry you with him, even as he walked away. The sight of him standing there, so close yet so far, was almost too much to bear.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and then slowly walked toward the door. Each step he took felt like a betrayal to the moment you had shared, each creak of the floorboards a painful reminder of the separation. As he reached the door, he turned to look at you one last time, his expression a final plea for you to understand.

“Goodbye, doll.” he said softly, his voice breaking slightly with the weight of his emotions.

With those final words, he opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, leaving you alone in the room that now felt unbearably empty. The door closed behind him with a soft click, and the sound echoed in the silence that followed.

You sat there, feeling the overwhelming sense of loss, the weight of his absence pressing down on you. The room, once filled with the warmth of his presence, now felt cold and desolate. You reached out to the space he had occupied, your hand trembling as if trying to grasp at the remnants of his touch.

The tears finally came, streaming down your face in silent, aching sobs. The finality of his departure settled in, leaving you with the bittersweet memory of his touch, his kisses, and the love you had shared. As you buried your face in your hands, the pain of his absence was a stark reminder of the reality you had to face, the love that remained but was now out of reach.

You lay back down on the bed, the lingering warmth of his presence a bittersweet comfort. Yearning for what remained of him. The reality of his departure settled in, slowly. Tears kept falling and you couldn’t stop them. When you closed your eyes, all you could see was him. 

You cried until you were too tired to do it. And as you drifted back to sleep, you held onto the memory of his touch, his kisses, and the promise that, despite everything, he would always be a part of your heart. He would always be your ghost. He would always haunt you, even when you’re old and gray — he would always be more than a casual memory. He’d always be the one that got away. And you knew….you were his too.

[randombush3]

revocate animos (with or without me)

alexia putellas x reader

part one, part two, part three, part four

the second half of this part (it didn't fit in one post lol)

words: it's over 14k. i had lots to say.

summary: the final part, which originally had a different ending but i was told it was evil so i changed it.

warnings: it's mainly just sad, there's a bit of smut though

notes: i could give you so many excuses as to why this is being posted now but no one wants to read that so i'll just say sorry x

anyway, i got very lost along the way at points and had some serious plot crises that had me tearing my hair out. i researched children's behaviour to the point of needing an honourory qualification, and i spent the last three hours ignoring my girlfriend while i finished this off.

for as much as i put these two through (and myself tbh), i'm sad to finish it off. BUT ALSO NOW IM FREE.

have fun reading! and sorry about the length of it

London smells of dirty rain and exhaust fumes, of a homelessness crisis and inflation attempting to impersonate that of the Weimar Republic; greyish streets, cracks in the pavement, thousands of spices from all over the world. Grubby patterns, hidden by the smudging of millions of bottoms, coloured poles that used to match the train line but no longer do. You breathe it all in, eyes closed as the motion of the underground jerks you sideways, the train leaving London Bridge just as you left Barcelona. Without looking back. 

You had laughed when they told you they’d send a driver to get you from the airport. The luxury of some shiny black car held no appeal when compared to the familiar Northern line, its blackened route well-travelled and your own brick-road home. 

Part of this choice to ‘slum it’ is borne of your desire to return to the past; a time before the fame and the fortune, when camera flashes came from your parents’ Sony Cyber-shot and not paparazzos with a hunger to splash you across the front page of a slimy gossip magazine. There was no Alexia, then. The extent of Spanish in your life was Anya studying for her A-levels, and you’d spend time writing songs without it feeling like pulling teeth. Without having to relive some of the worst moments of your life. 

Those hadn’t happened yet.

God, you were so naive then back then. 

Your London shows are in Wembley. Two nights, two journeys through your album, through your heartbreak. Both are sold out. 

“See it, say it, sorted,” you mouth along to the voice, pushing the handle of your suitcase upwards, rising from your seat. The doors of the tube swoosh open, the yellow line of the platform attacking your tired eyes as Highgate station is revealed to you. You hear a whisper of ‘is that Y/n L/n?’ but you don’t turn around. 

The wheels of your suitcase gurgle against the bumpy pavement leading up to your house, but they grow quieter as you approach. They must sense the tension, glad to have the smoother surface of your driveway to move across as you force yourself to continue walking forwards. 

A woman is standing on your porch. Her body swivels around as she hears you stop just behind her. 

Leah takes in the sight of you, deciding that you definitely did not enjoy Barcelona. “I was just about to ring the doorbell, but I guess you wouldn’t have answered the door anyway,” she says with an awkward chuckle, not sure if you want to talk about how rough you look. You cried the entire flight, and refused to contact anyone once you had landed, hoping they assumed your plane had crashed and you had drowned somewhere in the English Channel. 

“I got here in the morning.” Your voice is unused. It croaks, shattered. 

“Let me get your bag?” asks Leah, rather firmly, leaving you no room to decline her request before she has stepped off the porch and into your personal space. She looks up at you, wondering how you manage to look so beautiful even now, hand blindly reaching out for the hard shell of your suitcase as she stares. “How’re Nico and–” 

Your lips silence her before she is finished. Leah freezes, surprised this is the moment you have chosen to kiss her.

But she misses you as soon as you pull away. 

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, and she cringes at the self-loathing that drips from your words. A tear rolls down your cheek, but you are unsure whether it falls because you have kissed her or because you want to kiss her again. “I shouldn’t have done that.” 

You must have argued with Alexia. Leah’s realisation weighs heavy on her heart. Something has to have happened for you to have made your move, because Leah had been starting to accept the idea that you were still in love with your ex and she was nothing more than a friend. She had been looking forward to your concert tonight, in all honesty, and was excited to see you again, glad to have you in her life in any way, shape, or form.

“Because,” she starts hesitantly, “because you didn’t like it? Or…” 

“Leah.” 

“If you wanted to kiss me again, I wouldn’t mind.” 

“Leah,” you repeat, the vowels almost failing to drop from the tip of your tongue. This is a dangerous game, but the look in Leah’s blue eyes tells you that she is happy to play it. “Leah, I… I shouldn’t have kissed you?” 

“Is that a question?” 

You blink. “I’m not sure.” 

“If it’s a question, I’d say that the answer is the opposite. And that we should go inside.” She slides her hand over the metal handle of your suitcase, warm skin covering your fingers where your grip is still curled around it. “But only if you want to.” 

Do you want to? 

You value your friendship, you really do; Leah has been there for you many times since you met her, never asking too many questions. She means something more than what you crave from her, and doesn’t deserve to be the woman you use to detach yourself from reality. 

But Leah is looking at you with desire that has been missed, relentlessness promised by her toned muscles. Leah is looking at you as though you are the only star in the galaxy or the sun on a rainy day. Leah is looking at you like she wants to devour you, and you, with no soul left to give, resign to letting her have your body.

“This won’t change anything, right?”

It’s a mean question. You know that. 

“Course not,” Leah lies. 

You let it convince the both of you. 

Pink glitter covers the dining table at one end, and shiny green stars are scattered on top of the brown grain of the wood on the other.

“She might be at soundchek,” Alexia explains to Nico, who is finished with his Mother’s Day creation and is now intent on FaceTiming you to show you the card he has made. “And cards are supposed to be a surprise. That’s why we made envelopes!” 

“But you said my card should be put in a museum,” he replies with a frown, his nose crinkling in confusion just as yours does. “So we show her now.” 

“Mi amor, that’s not how it works,” laughs Alexia, reaching out to ruffle his hair. With Elena settled comfortably on her healthy knee, gleefully pushing piles of glitter around so that it mixes with the glue smeared on her card, it is safe to say that this year’s cards are going to be successes. “Mama has promised to call when she gets home, and you can tell her that you have a surprise for her. That will build up the excitement, and make it even better when she gets to open it.” 

Your son has become a cynic. “And when will that be?” 

“Mother’s Day is on the 19th, so we have three days to wait.” You have purposely chosen a chartered route to Tokyo that flies via Barcelona so that you get to spend the day with your children before your fortnight in Asia to end the first half of the tour. “Do you want to write the words out for Lela once the glue has dried?” 

“I don’t know what Lela wants me to say,” he explains with great concern, turning to his sister with a very serious expression. He speaks to her in English, because he knows that this card is for you. He understands that there are two Mother’s Days, though he thinks it’s because he has two mothers, and that Alexia’s day is in May. When Alexia opens her mouth to speak, Nico is quick to shut her down. “Calla, Mami, no sabes nada de inglés.”

Your legs slam together but find no available route with Leah’s body in between them. 

It feels… good. 

Liberating.

You haven’t brought her into your bed, which she notices but doesn’t comment on. It’s excusable to be on the sofa, to have stayed downstairs for the hours she has spent trying to make you feel better, because the clock has only just ticked its way to lunchtime. You laugh to yourself at the thought of that, amused by the notion that you have already eaten.

Leah is curious when it comes to you. That much you had expected, having been aware of her lingering gazes long before the sores on your heart had calloused into tougher muscle. She has been waiting for this resiliently, and you present yourself to her as though you are a new toy she finally gets to play with. She kisses you slowly at times, to memorise the warmth of your tongue or the jut of your chin, but she often grows impatient, wanting nothing more than to end her torture and find out what it is like. 

What is it like to have a woman like you? To wake up next to you, kiss you, touch you? 

How does your mind work? What do you smell like just after getting out of the shower? Does your accent ever slip, or is it really that posh? 

The air in the living room is hazy now, and your eyes close in bliss as you let your sweat seep into the grainy fabric of your white sofa. Leah doesn’t crawl into your open arms as you assume she will. 

She wipes her mouth. 

Although Leah has enjoyed this very much, she knows that this instance has not been you allowing her to start to love you. It has been for her to help you forget how much pain you are in. Somewhere deep down, she cares, but she doesn’t try to search for the emotion.

“So,” she says with a giggle, as if you are two teenage girls, best friends who have decided to kiss so that they can practise for the real thing, “do I need to send an apology present to your makeup artist?” Sitting back on her knees, she swipes one hand down to pluck her t-shirt from the floor, pulling it on top of her naked body before sending you an exaggerated smirk and prodding the developing bruise on your neck.

“Fuck,” you groan, batting her hand away. “I completely forgot I had that thing tonight.” You also need to call your children before Alexia bans your name from her household (if that hasn’t happened already). 

“That ‘thing’ being your concert at Wembley?” 

“I’d have thought selling out Wembley is the norm for you now, Captain,” you tease, clearing your throat. “England have done it, Champions of Europe for the very first time.” 

“You’re freakishly good at a commentator’s voice.” 

“Gotten used to being my own commentator. Only Spanish streams in my house – even United matches!” You smile at your own frustration but it quickly sours as awkwardness drops on top of you. You bring your arms up to cover your bare chest, but Leah clears her throat with softened eyes and you no longer feel so exposed. 

You feel safe.

“What happened in Barcelona?” You shake your head at her question. “That bad, huh?” she presses. 

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” you tell her, grey clouds hanging over you as your voice darkens and lowers. “Like, at all.” 

“I think you should. It’s better it comes out now than later when you’ve had lots to drink and no idea who you’re ranting about it to, isn’t it? And it’s just me; I’m not going to judge you.” 

“But you know her. You know her friends.” Your hands move to cover your face. Leah can have your body, but you don’t want her to have your tears. “Thank you for caring, babe, but I think I’m going to handle this one on my own.” 

“Well, you know that–” 

“You’re always a phone call away.” You smile, tears sucked back inside you, bottled away in glassware you store in crates labelled ‘VERY FRAGILE’. Desperate to change the subject, you adjust your position on the sofa, sitting up. Leah tries very hard not to stare at the curves of your chest. “You know, Lee, I never thought you’d be that good in bed.” 

…

Alexia is in desperate need of advice. 

Her muscles contract and relax, the tissues pulling on her bone, which, in turn, pulls her. She is strung along, driven perhaps by her leap in recovery and impending comeback. She almost breaks out into a jog, but the church she has dragged herself to comes into view before she can gain speed. 

She had not expected this from herself. 

It’s nothing special to her, though she will admit that the architecture of the building does hold some sense of divinity, but the heavy wooden door is propped open and she is drawn inside. 

The Sacrament of Reconciliation, Fridays, 17.00-17.30. 

Alexia checks her watch, the golden links gleaming on her wrist, catching the sunlight that filters in through the glass windows. 

She catches a glimpse of white behind the doors of the Confession booth, becoming acutely aware of how empty the church is. The curtain has been pulled back, bunched to the left-hand side carefully, as though the previous handler had moved with peace. 

It can’t be that bad, can it? 

It’s just like therapy. 

Her feet carry her forwards once more, leading her into the wooden booth. It smells old. The cushion she kneels on is blue, she thinks, but she cannot tell because it goes dark once she pulls the curtain shut. 

Alexia is not a religious person. Sure, she signs the cross before stepping onto the pitch, and, like most people she knows, she is baptised, but her faith is limited to that. When she tore her ACL, she spent evenings trying to pray, trying to force her to believe in Him. It would have been comforting to know that someone had a plan for her, was watching over her carefully with the knowledge of how it was going to play out. It was to no avail. 

But somehow she knows what to say, and so she does. 

“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” She recites the words like lines from a play, head bowed in shame as she writes her next sentences in her mind. “This is my first and, probably, my last confession.” 

Silence. 

She rests her hands in her lap, shuffling around to ensure she is not pressing down on her knee in any way that is harmful. It would kill her to have to push back her return to the pitch because of some stupid thing she has spontaneously chucked herself into. 

“I messed up.” She laughs. “No, that is actually an understatement. I know this is a church and I really shouldn’t swear, but I fucked up. Father, I had Heaven in my hands and I threw it away as though it were meaningless. Was it greed? Was it greed that led me to do it?” 

“Do what, my daughter?” 

The priest sounds younger than she’d thought he would be. 

“I had an affair with a woman whom I am certain I do love a little bit, but, by doing that, I destroyed a life that was perfect. Was it greed?” 

“I think you know the answer to that.” 

“Was it temptation?” Alexia tries again, desperately. Part of her yearns for the priest to tell her it was the Devil so that she can shed the responsibility. “I love my wife. More than anything, I love her. I do not think my own life is worth living if it is not in service to her, to our children, to the smile she reserves for her favourite people. I… I didn’t attempt it, but I thought about killing myself.” She swallows the lump in her throat. “Only once, but I thought it all the same. My sister called me selfish.

“It’s just – forgive me – fucked, isn’t it? I got carried away. I got lonely, I was alone. I craved something to make me forget, to pinch the gaping hole in my life shut. I relied on it to make me feel better, and it did for a time. But now it has made me feel much, much worse.

“And I am sorry! I am so, so sorry. I have grown sick of the word; I’ve used it so much that it holds no meaning anymore. It doesn’t do my regret justice, nor my quest for forgiveness, and I’m really on that quest, Father, I want to stress that to you. I lost my temper and said things I should not have said – things I don’t even believe – but I did not mean them then, and I do not mean them now.” 

“You are not religious,” accuses the priest, very gently. His voice washes over Alexia’s ears like a wave of warm saltwater from the Mediterranean, and she feels comfortable enough to swim into the expanse in front of her. “Our God is forgiving, but it is not His forgiveness that you seek. I cannot give you a prayer that will make her absolve your sins, because our holy words are not spells.” 

“Father,” croaks Alexia. As her lips part, she tastes the saltwater of the sea, dripping down her cheeks as though the tide has come in and there is no other option than for her to be flooded. “Please help me. I don’t know what to do.” 

The priest speaks, but she assigns the voice to someone else. 

The first thing you forget about a person is what their voice sounds like. It lingers like a feeling you can’t quite name; distant, distorted, enhanced by fantasy.

Alexia does not remember her father’s voice. 

The realisation is crushing. 

She knows his words – they are her prayers – but, like Catholics do not know the voice of their God, she can no longer hear the voice of hers. 

What would her father say if he saw her like this? On her knees in a Confession booth, backed against the wall with nowhere to hide?

This is not the girl he was proud of. Alexia, of course, is not that eighteen-year-old anymore; she hasn’t been for a decade. But, recently, the legacy of that unknown Levante player has disappeared. 

Alexia is so very lost. 

She does not know where she is in her own city. In her home. 

She does not know her place in her life, much less her place in yours – if you will still grant her one. 

She has not felt the thrill of football for months, has driven herself to Hell and back, and considered giving up enough to be on the brink of actually doing it. 

She has seen countless meals hit the water of her toilet, never digested, never deserving of the very thing that keeps her alive. 

She has counted your sacrifices, memorising the digits of an ongoing figure so that she can punish herself with the knowledge. 

She has tried to forget English, tried to improve her English, and taken vows of silence. 

She has cried and cried and cried until the only thing left for her to excrete is her hot, red blood. 

She has searched for a way out of the maze. She has failed every time. 

Alexia is lost without you, and she knows it. Everyone knows it, perhaps even you yourself. Do you revel in that fact? Do you enjoy it? 

You have a right to watch her suffer. You do, you do, you do. 

Alexia runs a hand through her damp hair, sweating as she sobs in the booth next to some stranger who she will never meet again. Her mouth is dry but her cries are wet and raw, and they scrape her throat as she chokes them out, losing her breath and falling silent only to catch it and begin again. The cushion burns her knees as though she is trapped in an inferno, the darkness blazing against her skin. 

The priest talks to her for a long time, not letting her leave until she has calmed down. She sniffles, wiping her nose with the back of her palm before softly pressing her thumbs to her blotchy cheeks to clear the final tears from them. 

When he is finished, he instructs her to take a few deep breaths, which she does. “You are not entitled to her forgiveness,” he reminds her. He begins the Prayer of Absolution – he insists for the sake of closure – and Alexia walks away from the church no more than five minutes later. 

She is still stuck in the maze, but she has restored that voice in her head that she knows will help her find her way out.

…

“So you went to church?” Olga asks with an amused smile, taking the first sip of her latte, relishing in the gentle burn of the liquid. She needs this coffee; she stayed up late last night because she knew Alexia has been struggling. There is nothing worse than being asleep when Alexia calls her for help. 

“I have no idea how I ended up there,” Alexia explains, somewhat defensive about yesterday’s catharsis. “Confession is way better than therapy. There is too much accountability in therapy.” 

“You have a lot to account for.” 

She huffs out a breath, taking a sip of her own drink. “I know, Olga, but I cannot change the past, so what would you like me to do?” Olga doesn’t reply. The brunette parts her lips, but promptly closes her mouth when she sees Alexia’s slight discomfort. “Mama wants you to come to dinner tonight. I… I do too.” 

Olga’s smile is big and genuine. “I’d love that,” she answers. “Eli is the best cook out of our friends’ parents. Everyone knows that.” 

You’re in London, childless, and are watching the grand old Arsenal play (reluctantly, forced to by Leah if anything). Alexia has seen the pictures of you at the match on Instagram; she has already felt the frustration that you are most-likely never going to watch Barcelona play again unless it is to support the other team. Like clockwork, Alexia seeks to fill the gaping hole you have left in her life. Somewhere, somehow, the lines of friendship between her and Olga have blurred. 

…

It takes just over a month for Leah to crack. 

You appear in London every two weeks, attending meetings and events, but she has decided, once and for all, to see through your excuses. You come to London for her. She knows that, and so do you. Leah’s ego has not reached a size where she believes she is enough for you, but the facts (and Lia Wälti) tell her she is wrong. 

Except, what Leah tends to leave out is that no matter how many times you let her sleep with you, she still is unable to access a certain part of your mind. 

She has never been upstairs in your house because you always prefer to go to her place in St. Albans. She has never slept in your bed, nor woken up next to you. 

You talk to her like she is still the same old Leah, the captain you befriended during the tournament of her lifetime, your entrance in her life intertwined with the ecstasy of winning the Euros. She closes her eyes and thinks of how you looked that summer; white England shirt, sunglasses pulled down over your eyes. Smiling, cheering. For her, she greedily claims to herself.

Sometimes, in her mind, you lift your sunglasses – you always seem to be crying when she pictures this – but Leah is only vaguely familiar with the timeline of your divorce. This is the issue.

There is a door that you have locked and refuse to let Leah find the key. It leads to heartbreak, to Nico and Elena, to a family you once had. 

“I wish you would let me in,” Leah says one day. (The day she cracks.) She tears her ACL two days prior, something that makes you feel guiltily nauseous, and you have come to visit her. She knows that you had flown over the minute you had swapped custody with Alexia. 

Your legs curl into your chest as you try to reduce the amount of space you are taking up on Leah’s sofa, cautious of her injured knee. Leah misses the warmth of your thighs, and wants to revoke her conversation starter instantly, pained that she has to even ignite the fire of this forbidden topic. “What do you mean?” comes your quiet reply, unwilling to disturb the peace of her living room. The peace of existing side-by-side. 

“Exactly what I said.” Leah nods to emphasise her agreement with herself. “I wish you would let me in, because how do you expect me to love you if I don’t know you?” 

She sees the bullet fly through the air; she sees the moment it hits you, the way you go rigid. Dead. Dying? 

“It’s crazy because it usually takes years for me to feel about someone the way I feel about you, and I just… I just wanted to tell you that it’s okay to let me in. I want to hear everything, to know everything.” 

“Oh.” What had you expected when you kissed her? “Oh, Leah.” 

“You don’t have to apologise.” She assigns your guilt, the tears in your eyes, to your distance. Perhaps you hadn’t realised, perhaps it is a coincidence Leah has never slept in the bed you used to share with Alexia. Maybe you are unaware that Leah has never heard you speak Spanish, and doesn’t know a single thing about your life in Barcelona. 

You’re a busy person, after all. 

“No, no,” you dismiss quickly, shaking your head. Leah can’t help but wonder if the paranoid voice in her head is right; has she been reading too much into this? “Fuck, I am such a twat.” 

But you don’t elaborate further, asking how she’s feeling, distracting her from your realisation about her realisation. Before Leah knows it, you are making her laugh harder than she has in a month, and soon, like most good things, your visit comes to an end. 

Returning to Barcelona is a little weird. 

You feel as though you have done nothing but check over your shoulder the entire journey, staring the past straight in the eye and wishing you could change it. 

You hadn’t meant to make her fall in love with you. (But she has. Oh, she has.) 

This week’s swap is no different; the same park as usual, the same pleasant weather to undergo an unpleasant task. 

On the bench usually occupied by Olga, a different, blonder head comes into view. 

“Irene?” you ask in surprise, wondering if she has been sent in Olga’s stead or just so happens to have brought Mateo, her son, to the very same park. You sit down beside her, somewhat pleased to not see Alexia’s henchwoman today. “Where’s the free childcare?” 

The defender’s eyes narrow, as though she is debating whether or not she should tell you. 

Irene has known Alexia for a long time, and, by extension, has known you for a long time too. She is calm, level-headed, and mature, much like Alexia. Except Irene hasn’t ever thought to cheat on her wife. 

You are clearly in a lot of pain, and you have a right to be; Irene does not rise to your comment. “Olga has gone on holiday,” she states with practised neutrality. 

“Ah, they’ve broken up.” 

Eyebrows raised, she turns to you, breaking her line of sight that encompasses Nico, Mateo, and Elena. The playground is small enough, and very safe. “They were never together.” You wait patiently for her analysis of whatever the fuck was going on between them. “Olga said she wasn’t what Alexia needed. She’s on holiday with Carla, and I guess she is quite upset.” 

“And Alexia?” You know Irene does not like to gossip, nor stir the pot. So you can be nosy about how she is doing. 

“I think her ego was bruised, but she sees Olga’s point. She has been… better recently. She’s focused on getting back onto the pitch, and Jona is only saying good things about it.” Irene’s eyes brighten at the thought of her captain’s recovery, and her tone soars through the air. The entire team has worried for Alexia, spending their own nights tossing and turning, wondering if the old version of her will ever return. “I know you two don’t speak, but if you did, you’d get a glimpse of what it was like before.”

You can’t help your smile, and Irene does not make you feel pathetic for wearing it. “Good.” 

“I heard you were in London?” 

“Visiting a… friend.” Irene is not a gossip, you remind yourself. “I think I might have to stay in this country for a bit and let things cool down over there.” 

She chuckles. “Whose heart have you broken?” She won’t tell Alexia, when Alexia inevitably asks about you, that you are seeing someone. Not that you have confirmed that to her. 

“I’m yet to break it,” you tell her, sighing, “but I know I will, and that is much, much worse.”

“Hey, at least you have two weeks of being endlessly busy to keep your mind off it.”

Children change a lot in two weeks, so Irene then launches into an update on school, clubs, and everything else. She gets the information from Alexia, of course, who writes out a list every time you switch over. No one has ever handed you the piece of paper before, worried that her handwriting will be an unnecessary reminder of the pain she has caused you, but, for some reason, Irene does today.

You are not put off by the swirling Spanish in front of you, instead choosing to study it. You have spent hours in Alexia’s lap as she scrawls out football notes upon football notes, scribbling prompted by footage or, freakishly, her own memory. From the lightness of the indentations of the pen, you figure that Alexia is exhausted. From the half-finished sentences, you decide that she was rushing when she wrote this. 

But, as much as you delight in your brief analysis of the evidence in your palms like Sherlock Holmes solving a mystery, you can’t ignore just how greatly you have missed the letters that swim between the lines (and the hand from which they were written). 

Irene spares you your dignity by standing from the bench and checking on the children just as your tears begin to fall. 

…

You take one last look in the mirror embedded in the sun visor, ensuring your hair is perfectly in place and your earrings match your cream, sleeveless turtleneck to poise you just between casual and smartly-dressed. A quiet grumble from the backseat draws your attention away from your reflection, though your last glimpse at your concealed eyebags and red-rimmed irises leaves you feeling a little dejected and mourning the days you’d actually get some sleep. (Or wouldn’t, smoking cigarettes on the balcony while talking Alexia’s ear off.) 

“Mama, we go,” decides Elena with a huff, tugging on the buckle of her car seat. 

It’s Nico’s first-ever recital tonight. 

He started playing the piano in September, when his teacher at school had mentioned how he boasted to the children in his class that he was a musician: ‘if I am Catalan because my mami is Catalan, then I am musician because my mami is musician’. You felt guilty. His teacher says he is naturally talented, voice lacking surprise but praiseful nonetheless, and is proud to name Nico his youngest student at tonight’s show. 

The bouquet of daisies you ask Elena to hold makes her look like a miniature carnival float, and she toddles into the venue by your side while you do mental gymnastics between the knowledge that Alexia will be here tonight and the nerves for your son’s performance. It’s nothing complicated, but you worry he will hate it. This is the only thing he does that is a nod towards you; his one deviation from his worship of Alexia. 

“Mami!” squeals the walking flowers as soon as you make it to the half-full hall. You direct your gaze to the three rows your daughter refers to, every seat lined with either professional footballers or family. With a sudden rush of blood to your head, you feel out of your depth.

You’re not sure whether the hazel eyes that find yours help or worsen that. 

“Keep it moving,” you mutter firmly, holding her hand so she does not make a break for it and tumble right over to the cohort of FC Barcelona and Seguras. Not wanting to get too close to them, you take your seat in the penultimate row, knowing Nico will not be able to see you over the grand piano set up on the stage wherever you sit. “You can talk to her later, sweetheart.” 

She is in an obedient mood, most-likely intimidated by the tension in the air. You tell yourself it’s the stress radiating from the line of performers sitting on the front row. Nico stands on his chair, waving first to Alexia and then to you (it’s your turn with them so you are a lot less exciting right now), before he is lightly scolded by his teacher and the first child walks up the steps and onto the stage. 

Five uninspiring children later, Nico is finally led up onto the stage. His teacher sits down on the piano stool and nudges him forwards. He smiles brightly at the room. You reciprocate, encouraging Elena to do the same to keep her engaged with an admittedly boring event. 

“Bona nit a tothom! Jo sóc en Nicolau i tinc quatre anys i ara aniré a tocar ‘Brillia Brillia Estel Petit’.” The audience melts before him. “Mama, that means ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’,” he whispers loudly. 

You send him a thumbs up. He sends you a grin back, before giggling as he climbs onto the piano stool beside his teacher. 

Situated comfortably, feet dangling adorably far away from the pedals, his chubby, little fingers hit the ivory keys once, then twice. 

You pray this goes well. 

It does. 

He plays with two hands, something you hadn’t expected, and Elena holds in her noisy yawn until after he is finished so she must have been invested in the performance. Your own hands sting after you clap with such prideful force that you are the loudest in the room, and the hoots and hollers from Alexia’s territory only make Nico even happier as he bounces down the steps and back to his seat to wait for the others to do their pieces. 

After the recital has finished, you walk down the aisle separating the seats in half to get to Nico, daughter-less courtesy of a squadron of football-playing kidnappers. 

“How was that?” you ask him smugly, his arms wrapping around you in a tight hug. “I knew you would be brilliant, even when you were scared you weren’t going to be. Do you know how proud I am of you?” 

“This much?” He holds his hand about thirty centimetres apart. “Mami says this much.” 

When he widens his hands, you gesture something even bigger. 

“‘Immensely’ is the word I would use.” 

“Im-men-lee?” 

“Es que nuestro orgullo llena una casa sin techo. Hasta el cielo.” 

“Up to the sun,” you amend, ignoring the way the voice has made you stiffen. You don’t read too much into her misuse of the collective pronoun. There is no ‘our’ in ‘affair’.

Alexia’s hand hovers by your waist for a moment, muscle memory getting the better of her before she draws it back into her body. Nico gives her a matching hug, telling her how much he has missed her. 

You try not to blame yourself for his derailed childhood. 

“You were amazing, petit,” Alexia says, picking him up with one strong arm and settling him on her hip. You grip the wrapper of the bouquet you are holding. “Did Mama get you a gift?” 

He peers at the daisies in your hand with curiosity. Shaking his head, his confusion deepens as he studies the bouquet you are extending towards him. “They are for Mami? Flowers are for love.” 

“I love you,” you tell him, not trying to make a point but instinctively prickling in the presence of Alexia.

The silence is awkward. 

A few metres away, whilst entertaining the sleepy toddler on her lap, Mapi is excitedly talking to Alba. “Y/n hasn’t killed her yet,” says the defender with glee, one of your admirers. The team respected you before, never questioning their captain’s judgement nor family, but when word got out about the affair amongst the older girls, most of them began to see you as more than Alexia’s wife. A new layer to your character was revealed; you are a strong, independent, and successful woman. Football nerds sometimes forget success comes in more forms than blaugrana kits. “They made such a beautiful couple.” 

“They did.” Alba watches as you talk to your son, your eyes actively avoiding the woman in front of you. “Our mother has sent Alexia over there to invite her to dinner. It killed me to see her sit alone.” 

You are too used to the feeling of eyes on you that you no longer notice the weight of people’s stares, but, if this were not the case, you would know that most of the heads attached to the bodies sitting in Alexia’s rows had been swivelled towards you for majority of the recital. Pity is never a desired emotion to have offered to you, but the Barça girls can’t help but feel that way whenever they see your forehead crinkle in an attempt to understand Catalan, presuming you only speak Spanish as you have more than enough on your plate. (And, as most of the players will admit, your children speak better English than them, so one can only assume that it is your main method of communication.)

“She’s a very good mother,” Mapi comments with a small nod, sucking a sharp breath in as she begins to sympathise with you even more. Not a day goes by where she witnesses the suffering Alexia’s idiocracy has caused – as Ingrid, her girlfriend, knows very well – and does not fail to scream in frustration about her best friend’s stupid mistakes.

“She’s a very good person.” 

They fall silent as they see your head tilt up, jaw clenching as Alexia begins to speak to you. 

“Can you hear what she’s saying?” whispers Eli to her daughter, equally invested in the conversation. “I knew I should have sent you; Alex is too socially awkward.” 

“Mami, she is talking to her wife,” replies Alba, though she remembers what happened the last time Alexia and you had spoken and the outcome of that. Maybe that commences her increasing agreement with her mother… “I guess you– Are they coming over here?!” 

Even you seem surprised by how your legs carry you towards the Barcelona clan, a step behind Alexia and Nico. Hesitant would be an understatement, but most of them are too preoccupied with congratulating the four-year-old they have come to watch to notice your tight-lipped smile and trembling hands. 

“Hola,” you say shyly. 

Eli pulls you into her strong embrace without missing a beat. “Te he echado de menos, hija.” 

You try very hard not to burst into tears.��

They take you to dinner; a plan you had known about but not envisioned yourself included in. Although it’s your fortnight, Alexia (through the conduit of Alba) had previously arranged to drop Nico and Elena over to yours before midnight. 

You blow off your FaceTime call with Leah.

The restaurant is on the lower level of fine-dining. It’s chic, but it does not make your children feel unwelcome. The table is set for five places, though Alba informs you that the reason for this is because the reservation was made before she broke up with her girlfriend. 

“Mama, what are you going to eat?” asks Nico, slipping back into his old life seamlessly, mixing his English with the Spanish he knows everyone can understand, his legs swinging underneath the table with an enthusiastic energy. He is still too young to pick up on how far apart his parents are sitting, or how you refuse to let your eyes linger on Alexia’s tanned skin, far too much of it shown off by the tank top she sports in the humidity of the busy restaurant. 

You glance around the room, searching for those who have recognised you. Under the weight of at least four curious stares, you motivate yourself to enjoy your meal. 

“Not sure yet, babe,” you answer. “Alba, do you fancy sharing something?”

“Yeah, of course.” The younger Putellas smiles. Alexia knows who has lost the war.

Dinner passes with light conversation centred on very neutral topics. No man’s land is clearly the children, and you had never expected to be so desperate to continue a conversation about school lunches until the other options are how Alexia had an affair with her teammate or that your song with her favourite singer is topping the charts and explicitly about being cheated on. 

Although you and Alexia both watch how many times your wine glasses are refilled, Alba lets loose, as does Eli (probably to ease the stress on her heart that her girls force upon her). Their cheeks redden and Nico begins to yawn, Elena already curled into your side halfway between dreams and reality. 

“Should we head out?” you ask it to the table, but the only functioning person is Alexia, really, and so you close your eyes to avoid having to make eye contact. 

“I should probably get Mama and Alba into a taxi.” 

“If you call one for them, I will call one for us?” Your suggestion is instinctive; an old habit reminiscent of many similar nights, back when there was love and happiness and a relationship that didn’t feel like walking on a floor made of broken glass. “Or did you drive here?” 

“No, but you drove,” comes Alexia’s reminder. Internally, you face-palm. Parking the car before dinner seems like years ago; something feels different now. “But if you don’t feel up to it, I could drive you home. I haven’t had much to drink and I have nothing else planned for tonight. Elena is practically in a coma anyway.” 

You laugh – a softened version of it so as to not rouse the dead weight of your daughter. 

“Are you sure?” 

It’s late.

“Yes, I’m sure.” 

I don’t care. 

“Mama,” Alba slurs, pulling her mother in close. “The saint has given her sinner a second chance.” 

It may not be as quiet as she thinks it is. Alexia, occupied, is deaf to the comment. You are not.

This is not a second chance. 

This is a lift home. 

The last time all four of you sat in a car together was the day you found out about Alexia’s affair. 

You had suffered then – are still suffering now – but your anger was hot and sharp and new. Fresh wounds. 

Now, though more scabbed-over than healed, those wounds no longer seem to gush blood; you entertain Alexia’s stiff small-talk. 

She asks about the tour, never veering too far off the road of practicality and shared custody. When does it resume? Which has been your favourite show? 

“Wembley is like playing El Clásico in Camp Nou,” she determines, not needing to ask about that because she knows you too well. 

Your memories of the London shows involve a naked Leah Williamson. (If only she knew that!) 

“Yeah, London was great.”

Awkwardness is part of Alexia’s personality; something you are fairly certain you still love. She is shy, though it perhaps comes off as stoicity, and she has never been good at making conversation. You know she hates it, and you know that her eyes, Alexia’s eyes, are gazing at you every time she thinks you are not looking. 

She is weary about the desire darkening her pupils, but she does not do well to hide her hunger nonetheless. 

“Go into the carpark,” you instruct as you approach your building.

Wordlessly, she presses the correct pin into the pin-pad, never having forgotten it. 

She parks the car beside a new-looking Mercedes. It’s not a car for children, and she imagines it reeks of cigarettes – there is no way you have stopped smoking. 

It belongs in the carpark; in your little world of celebrities and male footballers; of money and fame and fortune. (One could argue you lack the latter, what with your current situation.) Alexia’s life has never moulded with yours. 

Perhaps it never will. 

Perhaps she slept with Jenni because they are equals, you think. Because Jenni understands Alexia in a way you cannot. 

“Mami,” cries a quiet voice from the backseat. You stop staring at the grey, concrete walls, snapping back to reality as Alexia shifts to turn her attention to the source of the whimpering. “No quiero que te vayas.” 

“Lela, me tengo que ir.” 

“Pero–” 

“You could always come up to say goodnight to them?” 

It starts off innocently. 

Of course it does. Of course you are nowhere near forgiveness, more likely to forget about the crushing affair before you excuse any of her actions. Sometimes, you wish for amnesia. Sometimes, you refer to the tab open in Safari – ‘is there a drug that makes you forget?’. 

Alexia is granted a tuck-in and a story for each child, glad that their rooms are separate so that her time in her home is prolonged. The walls are familiar, the floor is the same. There are new pictures in new frames, but the old ones have not been removed. If you had ever wished to take photographs of your relationship down, you have never acted on it. 

She realises you must not spend a lot of time here alone. Maybe you cannot bear it. Maybe your life in London is more important to you than she had thought. 

Anyway, for as much as she subtly noses around and draws out the night, she has no intention of overstaying her welcome, sure that she probably did that the minute she stepped inside. 

In fact, she is on her way out, under the assumption that you will not want to speak to her.

“So you’re back to playing?” 

“Sí.” 

A doorway conversation. 

You’re English. You’re very polite. Alexia knows this, tries to not get her hopes up. 

“Does that mean you don’t want a taste of this ‘97?” You hold the bottle up to her, the cork lying on the granite worktop with the incriminating suggestion that you have already had a glass. 

“We play the day after tomorrow.” 

“Oh, Ale, this is a good one.” 

How many times have you said that to her before? The same tone, the same look in your eye; red tinting your lips, one hand on a lighter because you smoke when you’re drunk, even if you refuse to touch the cancer-sticks when you are sober. 

“Was this a gift?” she asks, drawn into your magnetic field like a flimsy paper clip; thin, worn metal trying to piece the pages of her life back together. “Or have you been making ridiculous purchases again?” 

“I can assure you that it is not ‘ridiculous’.” You moan in delight as you take a sip from a glass you subsequently hand over to her. “Gosh, that is divine, and you are simply going to dissolve when you taste it.” 

Dissolve she does, but one can attribute that to the company. 

The contents of the bottle dwindles quickly, paired with a vulnerable retelling of her ACL recovery (sans suicidal thoughts and huge, huge regret about the affair – she doesn’t want to bring that up, seeing as you are clearly trying to forget about it), and the warm breeze of the Barcelona nighttime. The salty air from the mediterranean mingles with cigarette smoke, though Alexia softly says that you really should stop. 

You hesitate on your next puff, but you inhale it all the same. “I like my wine smokey.” 

She opens the next bottle for you. 

The wine glasses are soon discarded, pouring becoming shaky and difficult. 

“They sleep all the way through the night here,” observes Alexia, surprised that no little hands have knocked on the glass door leading to the balcony. The last time you had reached for the wine, you’d moved closer to her. You have not yet returned to your original seat on the other side of the rattan sofa. 

You raise your eyebrows, under the impression that they were both sleep trained. “They don’t at yours?” 

“Elena keeps trying to sleep in bed with me.” 

“Maybe she likes you more,” you suggest with a light, alcohol-infused laugh. “She must have been upset to find her place filled by your friend.” 

“No,” murmurs Alexia, “it has never been filled. Though I don’t think you can say the same.” 

You swallow the stickiness of the wine running down your throat.

“Not in our bed. My bed.” You fight yourself. “Our bed.” 

“In Highgate?” 

“Anywhere,” you breathe. 

“It’s been months,” croaks Alexia, your hand pressed against her stomach as you slowly lean into the feeling only she can give you. “Months.” 

You kiss her. Time folds in on itself, and you are transported back to when every touch was electric; when nothing was tainted. The pain of the past months, the heartbreak, momentarily fades into insignificance as you lose yourself in Alexia’s warmth.

Her fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer, afraid that this moment might slip away too soon. The taste of wine lingers on your lips, and she craves the softness of them – she has been craving them since July.

“Well, now it has only been seconds,” you whisper as you pull away. 

With a sense of urgency, she chases your mouth once more, strong arms pulling you on top of her, manipulating your body against her with no hint of uncertainty. 

Alexia knows you well.

Her touch lacks curiosity and exploration. Her hands are experienced and confident in their movements, and she has hoisted you up and brought you to your bedroom without needing to have been told that this is what you want. 

“Is this what you want?” she asks anyway. 

“Please.” 

And she really doesn’t make you beg. 

Your hands roam her body with a primal hunger, instinctive touches to the most sensitive parts of her, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Her back is tense, muscles flexing as she pushes your clothes off your skin, her own following their path soon after. 

Parted legs and soft moans. 

She slots herself between your thighs. 

Her tongue is determined, fierce. Sloppier because she is drunk, but, then again, so are you. 

Your fingers repay the favour. 

“More,” you request just as she pulls away. 

“Is it in the same place?” 

You nod, panting.

There is a playful glint in Alexia’s eyes as she finds the strap just where she left it. As she secures it in place, you wipe the sweat from your brow, forcing your mind into the dirtiest of thoughts to ward off the building regret.

The room is dimly lit, and the air heavy with desire. Your heartbeat pulses in the silence, the thrum of the organ drums that guide Alexia’s slow, deliberate steps back towards the bed, kneeling atop the scrunched sheets. 

She positions herself between your legs once more, and you can feel the heat of her body radiating against your skin. She leans in closer, her breath hot against your neck, sending shivers of anticipation shuddering down your spine. 

With trembling hands, you reach out, nails digging into tanned, taut skin. You pull her closer to you, urging her to take whatever she wants. 

You want her to have you. You want her to make it hurt less. 

As Alexia presses inside, a jolt of pleasure courses through your body. You cry out, the sound igniting a blazing inferno within her that grows hotter the moment you ask her to move. Feverishly, her hands move over your chest, finding purchase on your breasts with a dormant possessiveness as her hips begin to drive the strap in deeper. 

Your breath hitches in your throat as you surrender to the overwhelming sensation, encompassed by someone so divine that you begin to separate yourself from all things wrong with this situation. The headboard thuds against the bedroom wall as she pounds her thrusts into a rhythm, and you shut your eyes as you quietly ask her to kiss you.

Tears cascade down your cheeks, but you do not know to whom they belong. Her tongue smothers your moans, and her hips begin to snap into yours more urgently, with more desperation. The pressure builds inside of you, and you feel as though you might explode. 

You feel as though this is the end, and you are glad that here is where your misery terminates. 

You’re glad, you’re really glad. 

Your back arches, your chests pressing together, large hands holding you close to her. 

And then it all comes crashing down. 

Everything. 

You wipe your eyes once the orgasmic bliss subsides, seizing your wine haze as the tide goes out and destroying the blindfold that had deprived you of seeing things straight. Right now, with the pleasant ache between your legs, you can’t quite bring yourself to regret it, but you know you will. You haven’t forgiven her; you’re not sure that it is possible. 

“You can shower, but you can’t stay here.” 

…

Nico knows that he is special. He is lucky, and he is loved, and he gets to go to a very nice school that Mateo (his ‘cousin’) claims is fancy. 

He likes his teacher. She reminds him of someone he once knew – you have suggested the nursery helpers back when he lived in London. He is not sure if you are right, but he doesn’t remember what London was like so he tries not to think too hard about it. 

Nico’s friends, like Pau who is sitting beside him, all think it is really cool that he can speak English. Pau says she hears his mother on the radio sometimes, but Nico hasn’t yet grasped the concept of fame past the annoying camera flashes and big, sold-out stadiums. He dislikes fame as he knows it, anyway, because the cameras hurt his eyes and the stadiums are so loud that he has to wear ear-defenders that squeeze his skull a bit too much. 

“My mum is from Bilbao. My dad is from Barcelona,” states Paula as she swipes a crayon over the sheet of paper her drawing is on. Green wax slowly stains the white to form ‘grass’. Everyone is drawing their family today, although Nico hasn’t yet started, waiting for his teacher to circle their table so that he can ask for another piece of paper. “And this,” Paula carries on, squiggling brown hair onto a smaller version of the stick-figure father, “is Ander, my big brother.” 

“Who is that?” Nico asks, pointing at the fifth figure on the page, guessing that the fourth and Pau-sized person is, in fact, Pau. 

“My sister! She’s called Nerea, and she plays basketball.” Pau promptly makes an orange circle the size of Nerea’s head, which floats in the air between her and her sister. “My mum says Nere is going to be a lesbian, but I don’t know what that means.” 

“My mums are lesbian!” he blurts out, excited enough to garner the attention of his teacher. When she appears, he grins at her sweetly; the kind of smile that has melted many hearts, though Nico is unaware of how many people know he exists. “More paper, please.” 

“Nico, you haven’t even tried with your first one.”

She isn’t harsh at all, but he has slowly learnt to stop asking follow-up questions. Six months of exasperated ‘I don’t know, Nicolau’s has taught him that. 

He shrugs. “Okay.”

He learnt what a shrug was the other day, when Mapi told him off for doing it to her. (“Don’t shrug your shoulders at me, Nicolau Putellas!” she had chided playfully. “All I asked was which of your mamas’ houses we need to go to.”)

“Nico, what’s ‘lesbian’?” 

“Mama says football is lesbian. Basketball might be lesbian! That’s why your sister is lesbian.” 

“My mum says that lesbians kiss girls.” 

“Mama kisses girls! And Mami. And they used to kiss each other but now they don’t speak and me and my sister swap houses.” Nico begins drawing it out for Paula when she peers at him, befuddled. “Here is Mama’s.” A big square, a glamorous-looking woman inside of the blue shape; a stick with a circle on the end of it; the notes he sees in his piano music floating in the air. “And…” he says, tongue sticking out as he concentrates on the opposite half of the page, “here is Mami’s.” 

He draws a football. He picks up the red crayon too, and uses both the blau and the grana simultaneously. “Mami plays football for Barça.” He draws two lines on Alexia’s t-shirt. 11. “Mami made me get 11 at football.” Nico had originally worn the 10, but then the affair had come to light and Alexia was suddenly deep in conversation with his coach and apologising to the boy Nico then had to swap shirts with. 

Then, he drops the crayons in his hand and searches for the stack near Paula. He selects the purple one, gripping it tightly, his friend still listening to him with intrigue. 

“This is me and Lela.” Two stick figures are drawn in the middle of the page; the middle ground between each of the squares. 

Nico sometimes feels stuck between it all. 

When Mami got very sad, he and Elena went to stay with Mapi and Ingrid for a few nights. He held his little sister’s hand as much as he could. He always tries to remind her that he is right there with her. 

Mami once told him that it was his turn to protect Elena. Nico hasn’t forgotten that. 

“I keep Lela safe.” He has encouraged her, slightly selfishly, to call him ‘skipper’, which he has picked up from the Lionesses. Luckily, Alexia has not told him off for it because she doesn’t know what it means. “Lela is my little sister. She is a baby. She doesn’t remember what it was like when Mama and Mami loved each other, but I do.” 

The purple crayon scrapes on the page as he presses it into the white, colour rubbing out in the shape of a heart. “Lela and I are together tot el temps. Mami tries to take me from her sometimes, but I don’t let her.” 

His story – and ability to make Paula pay attention for longer than ten seconds – has already attracted the quiet attention of his teacher, but she moves closer as Nico continues. The four-year-old leaves out how Alexia is usually inviting him to training with her. Since Elena has yet to show any interest in football, it remains her and Nico’s special thing, and, of course, his mother misses him when it is not her turn. 

You benevolently give your permission if you have no prior plans. It is upsetting that the only hindrance to extra time spent together is the little boy who once worshipped Alexia Putellas like a god. 

“Nico, why did you want two pages?” asks Paula curiously, assuming he is finished now that his whole family is displayed on the piece of paper. 

He frowns. “Because now I have to do this.” And with that, he tears the sheet in half. 

Paula’s mouth drops open in surprise, as does his teacher’s. 

“What’s wrong?” comes a mature voice, a hand placed on his shoulder just like it is when the other children in his class cry. Nico doesn’t cry. He is strong and brave, like a little soldier. “Did you not like your drawing?” 

“No,” he replies neutrally, “half can live with Mama, and half can live with Mami.” 

“But now you are ripped down the middle.” 

He traces the jagged edges of the halves of his life. One of his legs is on your side, the other on Alexia’s. 

“I know, but it’s okay. I don’t cry.” 

Alexia does, though, when his teacher talks to her that afternoon. 

…

“I slept with Alexia,” you confess quietly, comforted by the sound-proofing of Anya’s home-studio. She asked for help with her album; your success might be contagious, she insists. “Last week, when Nico had that recital.” You clutch your mug protectively, as if she will strip you of the right to drink your tea to punish you for your crime. 

Anya is unsure what you would like her to say. You search her face for anger, but do not find it. 

“If Gio were here, she’d probably slap you.” 

You snort, almost spilling hot liquid all over yourself. “You two are like my mothers, and you’re the nicer one by far.” 

“God, you are such an idiot.” 

“And a slag.” She waits for your next admission with excitement. “I also slept with Leah Williamson.” 

“Do you think you and Alexia are just destined for polyamory?” Her amusement is quite pleasant, but one thing wasn’t dulled by the wine that night and you have been dying to tell someone about it.

Your knee bounces up and down as you gear up for it, having thought it through 

“I think we are destined for each other.” 

Song-writing be damned, Anya fully removes her headphones, placing the equipment beside her keyboard before letting out a small, exasperated laugh. “You are in love with Alexia again,” comes her accusation, with no real malice behind it. 

“I never stopped being in love with Alexia. She just made it a lot harder to love her.” 

Is that an understatement? 

“Hey,” you say with sudden energy, sitting upright and grasping at your phone, tea wobbling over the lip of the mug and running down your wrist. “Should we go to Bali in August?” 

…

You avoid both of your footballers right until the World Cup camps roll around. 

Leah doesn’t get to go, subjected to the ACL curse. Alexia’s call-up is not necessarily unexpected, but you do find yourself wondering how many more betrayals her friendship with Mapi León can handle. (Mapi is on her last straw, but she knows her friend really needed the win after her hellish year. The Champion’s League was never going to sate Alexia’s hunger to be the best at football – possibly an overcompensation for her terrible relationship skills.)

Your children, this time, are delivered to the park by their very own mother. Alexia beats Leah in this sense, because she has a valid excuse to see you without confessing feelings you do not want to hear. 

“I have something for you,” she says just after she has finished her goodbyes, pressing a small box into your hands. Her voice is filled with nerves and you are intrigued, hating yourself for being so. “Don’t open it until you get back home.” Her eyes meet yours for a moment. I’m sorry, they seem to say. “Alright, have fun in Bali, and don’t forget that I legally have custody but I am not going to go to court to battle you for it as long as you put them in Spain kits for Spain matches.” 

She could, if she wanted to be difficult, have you send Nico and Elena to New Zealand during her weeks. It would be very unreasonable, but the contract your lawyers drew up still stands. 

“They were delivered yesterday. I think it’s going to be a struggle to convince them to put on the worst kit ever.” You still don’t forgive Alexia for cheating on you, but there has come a point where acceptance replaces the animosity. Nico’s teacher has been the catalyst in this step forward. The developmental pamphlets she had thrust in your faces were enough for the two of you to come to a mutual agreement of increased civility (that maybe, maybe was only made possible by the fact that you have very recent memories of each other’s orgasms). “But, yes, I agree to your terms. Don’t forget that his favourite player is Alessia Russo, however.” 

“He is in a phase where I am ‘uncool’! It’ll pass.” 

“If you say so, Alexia.” 

“Anyway,” she carries on, rolling her eyes. “Open it when you get home.” She… presses a kiss to your cheek? “I’m so sorry, mi amor.” 

You blink back your surprise, but she is gone before you can reply. 

The small, neatly-wrapped box sits in the palm of your hand, the corners edging off your skin and sticking out as you stare at it. Nico and Elena continue their (unsupervised) playing, but you manage to call out a warning for ‘five more minutes and then we’ve got to pack’ while you examine Alexia’s gift.

Is this how Pandora felt? 

If you open it, what will be unleashed?

Alexia, before now, hasn’t actively pursued your forgiveness. She has given you the time and the space you had broken-heartedly requested, nodding as you communicated your wishes to her through someone else, never before able to confront the face that tore up your life before your eyes. 

There was a time when all you ever wanted to do was talk to her, but she tried to forget about that when she realised the extent at which you went to avoid an interaction. When she had understood your desperation to be left alone fully, she began to breathe. The step backwards gave her room to examine just how royally she had fucked it all. 

She now feels a bit more capable of tackling the clean-up, working with a much clearer mind. Everyone is relieved that she hasn’t killed herself, or, at least, that she is keeping those thoughts at bay. 

You realise that she has bought you a ring, and regardless of whether you wear it or not, she wants to tell you that she is sorry.

...

IT'S NOT OVER YET! THIS WILL TAKE YOU TO THE SECOND HALF

[iturbide]

I think everything you said RE: Grima and violence and age is why I'm one of those who prefers the reincarnation angle: it allows at least ONE Grima to wrestle some amount of agency over his own future away from everyone else.

Robin wholeheartedly rejects the future of being violent and evil and hurting people by existing. He chooses to live among people. It strikes me this can only happen in a timeline Grima sent himself back in, because what allows Robin to grab that agency is the memory from Grima: the memory of killing Chrom, which to me implies INTENSE REGRET for that to linger from Grima's going backwards in time.

I'm really glad you like that breakdown! I think a lot of the preference for possession vs incarnation can come down to what tropes each individual enjoys most, and for me personally, there's a lot of narrative appeal to the possession angle.

A big things for me is how it paints Validar, honestly. Sombron may be far, far more monstrous in the grand scheme of things, but there is something so intimately heinous to me about Validar looking at his newborn child and seeing not the endless possibilities that might await that new life, but a meat puppet, made to be drained of potential and filled with the will of an ancient god. He says himself that he's willing to bring Robin to the brink of death, specifically because it won't matter how he broke them after Grima claims their vessel. It says so much about his character.

One of my favorite things about it is the idea of a dragon suddenly finding themselves in a human body, and how they would adjust. I love the image of the striking change in body language: Grima's dragon form doesn't have lips, so their old body gaped its jaws when it wanted to smile, and this translates in expressions that are too wide and unnerving in a human body; little gestures also become more exaggerated, like head tilts when confused or examining something, because the dragon had a long neck with a much larger range of motion that's just not possible on a human body (though the instinct to try is still there).

(Also, I do have a soft spot for the horror aspect of Robin's friends and family seeing that figure and recognizing them...until they move, or speak, and realizing in an instant that something is Wrong, because that's not how Robin walks, that's not how Robin sounds, so who is that?? I love that so much, it's so fun to play with.)

But while it's certainly true that the reincarnation aspect is very poignant, personally I think that the possession angle has equal potential for emotional resonance -- just maybe in a different way.

So, fair warning, this is a lot of personal speculation and headcanon, but at this point it's baked into a lot of my writing so there's no getting away from it.

It starts with Grima being sealed by Naga and the First Exalt. I think it's fairly reasonable to say they were pretty pissed about this fact. But also...there really wasn't anything they could do anymore, at that point. They could rage and fume all they wanted, but they no longer had a connection to the world. Maybe they could watch, somehow, from a distance, or through a veil, but the world was out of reach. For a thousand years -- a substantial chunk of time even for a dragon -- they were disconnected from everything.

And then, very suddenly, and seemingly out of nowhere, they feel something.

Because Robin has been born bearing the Heart of Grima.

For the first time in a millennium, Grima has a connection to the world through this newborn babe. They can feel through Robin's senses, hear through Robin's ears, see through Robin's eyes. The world looks different from this perspective, rather than seeing it all from above, and though Grima has no direct influence over anything, they soak it in all the same, because it's different and it's new and no matter how they might deny it, they want this.

And so Grima gets to see Robin grow up. Secreted away from Plegia by their mother, Grima is first-hand witness to Robin's upbringing, able to see the shape that the world molds them into. And perhaps they find themselves growing attached to this child, who is told from a young age that they were born with a gift, a blessing, in the form of their Brand...and who chooses to safeguard it. Robin does not hate their connection to Grima and try to disavow it, nor do they flaunt it and use that blessing as an excuse to exert their will over others: they hide it from the world, yes, but only to prevent it from falling into hands that would use it for evil.

Grima knew what it was to be both revered and reviled in equal measure by mankind. But Robin's connection is different. There is no reward for protecting that secret, but they do so regardless. They love Grima, in a way that the Fell Dragon doesn't recognize.

Grima finds themselves returning that love in whatever way they can. They lend power when Robin is in need, fueling the Ignis skill that saves their life on more than one occasion. They listen sympathetically to Robin's thoughts, and perhaps offer advice in the bad times (though Robin never recognizes it as anything more than their own worst impulses). They come to care for the human that was made to be their vessel, and want for them all the things they could never have for themselves.

But they see, too, that the world has not changed that much in the thousand years they've been dead. Humans are still cruel and callous, still dishonest and dogmatic, still killing one another over less than nothing. Grima sees everything they loathed about the world remains just the way it was...and then sees Robin live through it, choosing to fight only when they have to, choosing to be kind even when they shouldn't. And Grima can't hate Robin, as much as they might want to. They've come to care too much for that.

Eventually Robin falls in with the Shepherds, and maybe things aren't easy, but they're better. Robin starts to open up They make friends. They're happy -- really happy, not just putting on a front. And Grima is happy for them, glad to see them finally getting the good things they deserve in life, and vicariously enjoying it all through that connection they share.

...but then everything goes wrong.

Then there comes a war with Plegia.

Then there comes the Dragon's Table.

Then there comes an insidious presence, forcing Robin to act in ways they never would.

And their dearest friend dies at their own hand.

Robin is bereft. Robin despairs.

And in that bleak, terrible moment, Grima reaches out to them, and promises them the power to make the man responsible pay. To make him suffer, as he has made Robin suffer.

Robin is grieving. Robin isn't thinking.

And just once, Robin gives in to their worst impulses. Because in that moment, more than anything in the world, they want revenge against the man who made them murder their closest friend.

And Grima takes control of their vessel, and smites Validar off the face of the earth on Robin's behalf. Plegia is already dead because of Validar, her entire population wiped out by his Grimleal Cult to raise the dragon's body; Grima turns the sea of corpses to Risen, and sets them on the monsters who saw this atrocity through.

That's all it takes. One moment of weakness. One mistake, made in a moment of despair. It's not until later that they both realize that this cannot be undone: that Grima's soul, now bound within Robin's body, can't be removed; that Robin's soul, nudged aside but held tight to keep it from being disembodied, can't resume control of their own body without both of them expending incredible effort. The Risen, now unleashed, cannot be controlled, and once the last of the Grimleal Cult are dead they spread inexorably across the land.

And so Lucina's timeline comes to ruin -- all because Robin loved Chrom, and Grima loved Robin.

But, of course, that's not the end of the story. Because Lucina, in an effort to change fate, petitions Naga and returns to the past with the other Shepherds' children, escaping their dying world to prevent catastrophe. And Grima follows her into the past...not to assure their resurrection, but to prevent it.

They know from the outset that they are choosing death. But this time, it is their choice. To preserve a world that Robin loved, and to give Robin a chance at a happy life, Grima goes back to help Lucina change the past, entering Validar's fold to unmake his designs where they can, minimize the potential damage where they can't.

And this time, love doesn't end in tragedy.

[ofallthingsnasty]

Nasty you have opened my eyes to the potential spiciness of dentists. I don’t have a medical kink but I did see the appeal of hot yandere doctors, but dentists? Idk they seemed to a little too vanilla for me (sowwy 🥺) But now I’m like…I can see the potential.

Especially since I went for a routine cleaning during the winter break. I’m pretty familiar with going to the dentist - due to having braces as a preteen and getting my wisdom teeth removed a few years ago - so thankfully it’s not anything I fear. But I don’t enjoy going to the dentist. I don’t know how universal the procedures are around the world but I also feel so helpless when I’m laid down flat and a piece of cloth is laid over my face, save for my mouth. And I have to endure the water pick and the electric toothbrush. Water tends to fly into my nose and breathing is a bit of a hassle. Sometimes I subtly gag on the water and I struggle to keep my mouth wide open, many times the dentists have to remind me to “open up wider”. Just thinking about a yandere dentist seeing me like that, so pliant but helpless, and…boom they get hard

Or that thing when they put a foam mouthpiece in your mouth with some sort of filling? It’s like flavored fluoride, I think? I hate that part the most actually. I have to sit there for about 30 seconds with my mouth around it and drool dribbling out of the corner. Oh the erotic possibilities…Especially if, like your recent drabble with Law, they tell you it’s one thing but it’s actually a certain bodily fluid >:3c

Also, I sometimes wonder if I were to send some stuff about yanderes + dentistry if it ever gets too far. You are a dark content writer but dentistry is also your job! I was wondering if you had any hard limits when associating it with dark content

!!! I'm glad I was able to make yandere dentists more appealing to you - and honestly, you thinking that the job is 'too vanilla' for dark stuff is a compliment. I'm happy when people aren't afraid of coming in and see us as a nuisance at best 😇

Yeah, it's all about the power play and being vaguely to extremely uncomfortable, right? While dental work isn't life or death (fortunately, lol), there is still a power imbalance here. Whenever I go to my dentist and get something done I'm cramped up to high heaven and my blood pressure drops like mad - what I'm saying is that I'm scared even though I'm a dentist 😭 I usually take from that experience, maybe dip into the dental phobia aspect a little.

I wouldn't say that I have hard limits per se but for me it's more about the quantity, if that makes sense? Don't get me wrong, it's fun to be able to use my knowledge for "evil" and write weird medical shit but I simply can't do that all day every day, haha. Sometimes I just don't wanna think about work lol (you know escapism and all that jazz lol) If inspo strikes and you wanna chat, you can always come to my inbox!! Sometimes it might take a little while longer bc I may not be in the mood but my general rule if that if something is triggering/a no-go, I simply let the person sending the ask know. I promise I'm never mad!! (And I don't judge. I started this account with piss porn and have a whole-ass fursona for it... I'm not one to talk, ever.)

[butterflydm]

Enjoying your series recaps. Just on thing wrt Min & Rand falling in love: while I agree she's pretty short on reasons/details to love, etc, they were together longer than the others, off-page. Great Hunt ended in fall, Dragon Reborn began in spring. They spent 5-7 months in the camp together. That's plenty of time to get to know each other, hence his dreaming of & missing her in books 3-6, her weeping when he left, etc, even if he didn't act on his feelings due to officially being with Egwene.

I'm glad you enjoy my recaps! <3

re: Min, part of my issue is that they DO spend a lot of time together and yet barely seem to know each other.

All the potential time in the world doesn't matter to me if it doesn't actually seem to lead to anything of substance, basically. And Rand and Min, in their own internal narration, do not actually seem to know each other well, so if they DID talk during those months, it seems like it was only on very shallow topics.

She makes lots of really off-base assumptions about his personality and his behavior (ex. she assumes that he would enjoy having three girls panting after him and abuse that fact to have them at his beck-and-call), she's constantly blaming him for her own choices, and Rand never consciously thinks about her as anything but a friend early in the series.

She 'sneaks into' his thoughts about Elayne and Aviendha, so I do agree that Jordan wanted the readers to believe that something was brewing there in Rand's subconscious (but Mat does too sometimes and I don't think Jordan wanted us to make an assumption there, lol) - plus there was the viewing, of course, which Min chased after as soon as she decided she was all-or-nothing for it.

I do think the idea that Egwene is the reason that Rand didn't jump on the idea of dating Min between TGH & TDR kinda downplays a lot of Rand's self-hate that was there at the time, also. Rand isn't ever the one to make the first move with any of his love interests (except, technically, asking Egwene to dance back in EotW, back before he had any suspicions about being a male channeler). Elayne straight-out tells him that she's fond of him in TSR before they kiss; Aviendha has a little speech and kisses him first in TFoH before they hook up; and Min wages a weeks-long campaign of 'friendly' kisses before they hook up in ACoS.

Plus, their romance seems very unhealthy! So that definitely affects my feelings. There are unhealthy romances that I personally ship, so I'm not saying that's a reason not to ship Rand x Min in general, but the way that it is unhealthy doesn't appeal to me personally.

Thanks again for the ask! Unfortunately, my feelings towards Rand and Min are unlikely to warm in the near future, but I absolutely DO NOT hold my feelings on book!Min against show!Min and am looking forward to hopefully seeing a more actualized romance arc there.

[friedwritinggamingghost]

Before I start, let me preface this by making it clear that this post is NOT anti-Chack. This is just about my thoughts on it. And how my perspective changed.

I have read several stories with Chack as the pairing, when I was younger I used to enjoy reading that pairing, and while it's no longer my cup of tea I can still see what the appeal is.

But I've recently been watching Xiaolin Showdown again, and what I noticed when I was younger has an even stronger hold on me now; which is canon Chase really likes Omi. Like every time I watch these episodes, it's like wow, Chase likes Omi more than I thought. (Yes I am talking about platonic like, not romantic.)

And then I see how Chase and Jack in canon interact, and it gives me mental whiplash compared to how they are in the Chack stories I used to read. Because in canon Chase really doesn't like Jack.

(A few mentions may come up, but I'm not really going to compare the relationships between Omi & Chase/Jack & Chase, because to me its like comparing apples and oranges.)

I would go so far as to say, that any realized Chack fics are inherently OOC, because Chase outright tried to kill Jack once and made it clear a few different times that he wouldn't care if Jack died. And that doesn't translate to Chase secretly loving Jack.

That being said, I do see the appeal. Jack is a very likable character. And he can be very relatable. When I was younger, he was my favorite because I related to him. And I wanted him to win and have the stuff he wanted.

And that's where Chack came in. Because I think anyone who watches Xioalin Showdown can agree that if Chase acted towards Jack the way that he acts towards Omi, Jack would have snapped that apprenticeship up like an alligator snapping turtle snaps up a fish. And if Chase had been as persistent with Jack as he was with Omi, I think that the series would have ended with Jack firmly at Chase's side as his apprentice/second in command.

Obviously that didn't happen which I'm glad for because I adore the dynamic between Chase and Omi.

But that primarily leaves fanfiction for genuinely happy Jack, seeing as in canon his triumphant/happy moments were usually temporary.

Because Chack fanfiction fulfils his need to be wanted, to matter, to be accepted. And to get all all that from his personal hero/favorite person no less?

So I think that's where the main appeal comes from, because I think Jack was always meant to be an audience appealing character. And audiences often want said characters to be happy or triumphant especially if they aren't in canon.

That's why I used to like Chack. Now, it's not my favorite. Like I said, I don't dislike it. I'm not anti-chack. But it's just not my thing anymore, because while many of the stories are enjoyable, it's to the point where it's just a little too OOC for me.

I would say, in canon, Chase has honest affection for Omi and genuine appreciation for his talents.

Whereas with Jack, Chase views him as an occasionally useful, annoying insect that he'd be fine with getting squashed. Or eaten.

Now with all that being said, I have something to say to chack authors.

For those of you who put in the effort to keep the characters as in character as possible, I am in awe of your skill.

For those who are simply enjoying writing their favorite characters, I adore your creativity.

And I think that most of y'all should be published authors and raking in that dough.

Thanks for reading my ramblings, have a great day!

[lazzledazzler]

Lazzle's Rune Factory 5 Review

Alright so here are my thoughts and experiences with RF5! This is a big boy so buckle in earthmates...

Obviously this review will contain spoilers, read at your own risk.

Initial thoughts upon playing...

Great opening! I enjoyed the jazz music~ I did feel like it leaned a bit more towards the male player though. It definitely feels like a rune factory game. It's familiar, and controls are easy to get accustomed to for the most part. The mold is there and rf5 doesn't stray too far from its predecessors which is comforting for veterans. That being said, I'm not going to pull any punches and will critique this game harshly. Keep in mind as updates for the game are released not all things discussed in this review will be as relevant overtime!

Let's hear some thoughts on...

The story/plot. The plot is enjoyable overall. I'm not crazy about the whole Seed organization thing but it was a neat idea. They address the Sechs Territory and it is confirmed that the game takes place some decades after RF4. But by the end of it, I didn't feel like I really accomplished anything because it felt like I barely did anything really. Also they left a lot of stuff unanswered. I'm not even sure I understood the message they were sending, if they were trying to send a message at all. The main story is too short, and it doesn't involve enough of the townsfolk. You're basically doing everything yourself in secret the whole time and the townsfolk barely know what's actually going on. Out of the love interests, Lucas plays the largest part in the story, followed by Priscilla and Scarlett. The story feels targeted at male audiences--at least that's how I felt. You, the player, have a larger role in the game, much like in RF3 and I was glad to see this. As of right now there are only two arcs. Praying for DLC 3rd arc...!

Protagonists. The latest protagonists to join the crew of Earthmates are...decent. Their designs are nothing special unfortunately, though I appreciate Alice's more than Ares's. Appearance-wise they lack personality and creativity. Personality wise I am pleasantly surprised with how sociable they are. They're not exactly quick witted and sassy like Lest/Frey were in rf4, or as endearing as Micah in rf3, but they have a certain realness to them that makes their reactions to things believable. I'm certain Xseed will see to making them a bit more sarcastic in their localizing efforts, so let's all look forward to that. Overall though, while I appreciate their mannerisms, they don't really measure up to all the previous amnesiacs we've grown to love over the decades.

Characters. Overall I enjoy all the characters introduced in Rune Factory 5! I feel like there is someone for everyone in this game on some level. The voice acting was pretty good for every character. The designs are very much Rune factory. Like OG runefa, compared to rf4 ( 4 kind of strayed from their usual style) which I like. Characters still have their own signature quirks that you find endearing. Although I would have liked to see more variety? Like we've had mermaids, univir, half monsters, vampires, etc in previous titles but rf5 only gives us the usual (half) elf, dwarf, and then a succubus (physically she doesn't have unique features aside from the ears and heart eyes), and some were-people. I was hoping for something more unique to really give that classic runefa vibe.

Dungeons/Battles. I'm pretty split on this one. On the one hand, the dungeons have more depth due to the 3D aspects. They've included more contraptions that are very fun to see even if they aren't executed that well. So I'm grateful for that. On the other hand, the dungeons are insanely short imo. It doesn't take long at all to get to the boss. The puzzles are also pretty subpar and few compared to RF4. Fighting monsters is similar to the other games. You can lock on now but I only use it when I'm trying to use my Seed Circle. The lock on feature is actually counter-intuitive and makes it harder to dodge. Weapon mechanics have shifted a bit. There’s a feature that makes you invincible to damage if you time the R button dash correctly. Axes and Hammers are significantly slower than in older games? Like. I thought I was in slow motion it was so slow. Lances are also harder to use as well? I'm questioning my sanity here. I don't know if it's a bug or intentional either.

Farming. Not much has changed from previous games mechanics wise. They added new types of special crops which is neat. The camera view changes to overhead when you go near your fields though, and it can make you dizzy/uncomfortable. It actually makes it a bit difficult to see at times so I wish there was a way to adjust the angle. If you are tilling corn or dried weeds to improve the soil, you need to place them separately if you don't want to use the entire stack. Otherwise, it will till the entire stack on the land if you place them all down at once. The flower shop is unlocked late in the story. Weird thing to do considering you need flowers to make medicine. Not to mention the fact that you wont have access to the fertilizer that increases defense against typhoons? During typhoon season? Thinking emoji...

The town. I have to say Rigbarth's design is poor compared to Sharance, Selphia, etc. It's too big and it takes too long to get around. Everything is too spaced out and there aren't enough warp points to make it easier on players. I don't want to walk an entire mile up a hill to talk to one person and then walk all the way down to the beach to speak to another. It doesn’t really feel like a ‘town’.

OST/BGM. Music was good, though nothing really stood out to me where I'd go "damn this slaps" or something. I think they might've had some old soundtracks from rf2 or something because it felt really nostalgic at times.

We need an exterminator. (Bugs Bugs Bugs)

Marvelous, I don't know how to tell you this buuut...your customers are NOT your testers. When you release a game, you need to make sure it's not littered with glitches because customers don't enjoy dealing with them and will drop the game!

Here are some of the types of glitches I encountered:

Crashing. Game would randomly crash or freeze and close at any moment. Sooooo frustrating! Sometimes you get lucky with the autosave feature, but the autosave only activates every morning at 6am in your room and then when you warp to a dungeon level/floor. So when you're in the middle of your daily tasks in town and it crashes, you have to start all over. Marveloussss no one enjoys losing their progress in a game I promise you that much.

Lag. The dialogue bar is seriously slow, especially after loading your file. Crafting/Cooking screen lags. When you press the Y button to skip through dialogue it lags like hell. Pretty much after every time you load the game will lag, the audio will lag if you're in a battle, everything is just. so. slow.

Repeating dialogue. So if you close your game entirely (or if it crashes) naturally you'll reload your file to continue where you left off. There's a bug that will cause all NPCs to repeat the last dialogue that occurred from whatever plot related thing you did last. So for example, if the last thing you did in the story was unlock Ludmilla, everyone in town will naturally have some dialogue about her. But even after seeing all this dialogue and even saving, if the game is closed and reloaded you'll have to read all that dialogue again from townsfolk. It got really annoying after a while.

Monster taming. One time I tamed a monster but once I named it and hit 'ok' the monster never showed up in my barns? Just. gone. Okaaaay then...? Additionally, I expanded one of my monster barns but all of the monsters I tamed wouldn't appear in the added room. You get 4 monsters for each room but the monsters I tamed would show up in the original room. Meaning I had like 7 monsters in one room! I tried to bring them into the newly added room but they would just warp back to the other room. Sad.

Pond Glitch. I fished in the pond located in Sasayaki Forest and left the fish I caught but didn't want laying around the water's edge. If you leave fish around the pond's edge and go to sleep, the next morning you will be teleported to the pond and trigger the fairy dialogue as if you had thrown all of the fish into the pond??? So the dialogue of her telling you she wants 'X item, not this!' will trigger over and over for all of the fish you left at the water's edge. RIP.

Party member Bug. I had Martin in my party and I made him leave. Then when I went into my monster barns to get a monster pal to join me instead it showed me Martin's portrait???? Also I've encountered a bug where I can no longer ask anyone to join my party for some unknown reason. The R &L button prompt was just gone when I reloaded.

Errors. When cooking or crafting, the dialogue box shows up sometimes...

Typos. Random average typo here and there. Not a real biggie but there is one instance where the heroine will use the japanese male pronoun "boku" instead of "watashi" which really convinced me that this game was completely intended for men lol.

Let's talk about Pros

The good stuff. The stuff that makes you all warm and fuzzy inside.

Plot Advancing. Now I'm gonna put this as a pro because I'm certain the average player will enjoy this even though I do not. There are now markers on the map to show you where to go to advance the plot. This is all well and dandy, but it also made the story less appealing for me because you don't need to go around town and speak to residents for clues or assistance to advance anything in the story.

3D Graphics The 3D models are all amazing. The interior designs of the houses/buildings are also incredibly detailed and realistic.

Collecting items. Now there's a feature that will allow you to collect items into your inventory just by walking over them. This is pretty neat and welcome for the most part. Once the item is sparkling, you can walk over it and it'll go into your rucksack automatically. This also makes lumbering and mining go much faster. Yay!

The miraculous L pocket. Now you can customize the categories that appear in your L pocket by going to the rucksack tab in the menu. This is a super neat feature that makes things easier on players who want to manage their items in a format that suits them.

Weapon/Tool Toggling. You can now toggle between your equipped weapon and tool by pressing the left or right buttons on the trackpad.

Collecting lumber/material stone. Oh lord this is probably the most welcome improvement moving forward from the previous game. You can now put all of the lumber and material stone from your inventory into its storage at once. This also applies to fodder for tamed monsters. Well done Hakama.

Autosave. This feature is a welcome addition to the series. The game will save your data every morning and every time you enter a dungeon. Autosave has really saved my ass a few times when I made a huge error in judgement so I'm incredibly grateful for this feature. And it doesn't save over your actual save file--there's a separate autosave file at the very top. So if you messed up something but already saved on your main file, you can still salvage your mistake by reloading the autosave! I just wish it activated a bit more often sometimes.

Warping. Now we can warp to each level in a dungeon as well as certain places on the map in town. It's pretty convenient for the most part.

Increased party members. Now you can have up to 3 members in your party! Hooray! Party members act more intelligently than in older games. Scarlett can use the Seed circle to assist you in fights. I think she also tosses healing potions at you occasionally. So far, no one has tossed a dish at me if I haven't eaten like Kiel and Clorica did in rf4. But I have been hit by a failed dish (from reinhardt?) and a healing potion (from scarlett). Scarlett, Priscilla, and Reinhardt are the most helpful when dungeon crawling in my experience. Some of them however, (looking at you Doug) don't shut the hell up with their one line of dialogue they have and repeat it constantly.

Seed Circle. This neat feature allows you to capture monsters. By charging it and releasing you can capture monsters for the bounty system or add them to your party temporarily. If you throw it without charging it, you can stun monsters in place momentarily or grab things from far away. When stunning monsters, it can also give you the monster's drop item occasionally. Unfortunately it uses a lot of RP so it can be difficult at times.

Combo attacks. This is a neat feature that I appreciate and use often for boss fights. They do some serious damage so it's good to save them for the bosses. The actual cutscenes aren't that impressive, and feel kind of subpar when you get down to it but I think it's a start in the right direction.

Farm Dragons. I'm listing this as a pro although I really just see it as a new feature. Farm dragons have fields on their backs that you can place monster barns on and farm on. Giving them certain crystals will give your fields boosts in certain criteria, like length of growth, soil quality, you get it. I personally don't use the crystals because I couldn't give a shit lmao I have men and women to woo here. But if you're into this kinda thing then it's a pro.

Storage. When opening your storage box, fridge, etc. you can actually hit the R & L buttons to switch between ALL of your other storages. Looooove thissss. Great addition. So much faster to put items away in their respective places.

Crafting/Forging. Now we can also use the R & L buttons to alternate between the different weapon types/accessory/gear types instead of having to exit the menu and going back in each time you want to make something different.

Cooking. More recipes have been added. Yay!

Days are longer now. More time to get shit doneeeee ayyyy

Fishing. They've added many more fish to the game! Now the player will shout something when you get a bite, making it easier for you to hit B at the right moment. Nice. Also if you fail or press B too early, the fish doesn't vanish most of the time. Also nice. There is now a feature to fish with another person's assistance. Once a day you can investigate the sign near the fishing station and someone might offer to lend you a hand. Press the B button at the right moments on the slider and you can get a rare fish that can't be caught normally.

Monsters. New types of monsters! Love the designs. Even the monsters that are the same but just have different skins are really neat. They look great in the 3D format too. You can even ride with up to two people on certain monsters! Some bosses had awesome designs while others...were bad.

New Types of Furniture. The carpenter store has a wide arrange of furniture you can buy for your home. It also has wallpapers and stuff which is really neat. Though unfortunately you can't even sit on some of the furniture so that's a shame.

Events. Now there is a system where events are triggered by approaching an icon on the map. This is probably an improvement to RF4's randomized system, though personally I found it annoying because it meant that I had to see the events before I could just enter a building normally. Sometimes I just wanted to get shit done and not have to read through walls of text for someone's love event when I just want to buy something.

Voiced Lines. The protagonist seems to have more voiced lines, as do other characters. Good!

Let's talk about Cons

Not including glitches. Oh boy. So many cons. Where do I start?

Dialogue. Probably the most notable con in the entire game. The dialogue is drastically minimal in comparison to previous games, especially rf4. There is probably a quarter of the amount of dialogue compared to rf4's insane amount of content if not less. Townsfolk repeat themselves. Often. Too often. Am I playing Harvest Moon? Originally I thought it was because the dialogue is randomized, but I think it's actually because more dialogue is unlocked as you raise townspeople's FP. Despite this, there's no linear build up where you start off as acquaintances and eventually become very close like in rf4 because of how sporadic the LP/FP is. Townsfolk don't even talk to each other. One of the greatest perks about runefa is the conversations townsfolk can have with one another. Residents randomly gathering in small groups to talk about anything. Previously you could add someone to your party and sometimes a dialogue will occur if you speak to the right person at the right time with that person in your party. This is nonexistent now. The only time they do this in rf5 is during the festivals. But, it will only trigger if you have unlocked all the characters in each marriageable lineup and they can't be in your party. The residents will talk about one another but that's pretty much it outside of town events. They got rid of all the minor dialogue that occurs too. Trying to sleep in someone's bed while they're right there? They wont comment. Inspecting objects in stores while the shopkeeper is present? Wont say anything. Take a character with you to a dungeon/boss fight? Their lips are sealed. Where's my sense of community? :(

FP/LP This ties into the dialogue issue. The rate at which LP/FP increases is sporadic as hell. You can go from 1FP/LP to 4FP/LP just by giving a gift sometimes. I wouldn't even speak to people and their affinity increased by like triple for no reason. Then it increases by like 2% for the longest time. Argh!!!

Graphics. I don't consider myself very picky when it comes to graphics. I don't really mind that the foliage and scenery are at the level of a ps2 game at best. I tried playing on my television initially, but the lag and camera operability was too much so I fully switched (haha puns) to handheld. One thing that sucked is that I literally cannot tell the difference between medicinal herbs, antidote grasses, and green grasses without the captions because the graphics are so indistinguishable. So when you're trying to pick up multiples of those items by holding the A button, you're just randomly walking over anything green in the hopes that you'll get the right ones...

Lack of Sound Effects. Something I noticed is they got rid of the sound effects that will play when you complete a puzzle or add someone to your party. When you try to brush a monster there's no sound for the '♪' they make when you successfully brush them. So it was hard for me to tell if I had actually brushed them or not. I was a bit saddened by the lack of cute sounds.

Too much free range. From the very beginning of the game, you're allowed to go pretty much wherever you want when leaving town. It was too easy to stumble into high enemy level territory without knowing, so when I was like level 5 so I got KO'd immediately.

Artwork. The portraits seem to be lower in quality somehow. Runefa has always had shitty portrait art imo but this time it's even worse. Many character's eyes looked fucked up. Though the 3D models are insanely good for mostly every character except Terry. Terry's 3D model looks Terryfying and I prefer his portrait.

Festivals. They've added some new festivals. Some I enjoy. Some not so much. They changed the format of the eating contest. It's horrible. Good luck with that one.

L pocket + R button? They got rid of the feature that lets you skip to the other end of your items when opening the L pocket by pressing R button. I really liked that feature because it made it faster to reach my items so I was bummed that they got rid of it.

Gotta go fast. Now when you speak to someone, it doesn't 'stop time' as you might say it did in previous games. So people are still moving about as you speak to someone, making it harder to catch up to people! Annoying!!!

Catch and release? Not in my farming simulator! Say goodbye to being able to toss a fish you caught back into the water. In fact, say goodbye to tossing anything you don't want anymore into the water. Now you just have an army of fish flopping on the ground around you. And with the auto pick up feature, they're probably going to end up in your inventory anyways once you try to move. There are still certain ponds with fairies that you can toss stuff into, but you'll have to deal with the fairy harping at you for giving her something she doesn't want.

Shop Hours. Oh god. The shop owners don't even open their stores at the correct hours? It says open at 9am. If you speak to them they won't open their store until like 9:07??? But Priscilla and Lucy will show up to work their part-time jobs at around 8:30am and you can buy stuff through them before 9am. So the actual shop owners (for the bread shop and general store) are pointless usually. Additionally, if the store is empty (but open) you can no longer add a shopkeeper into your party and then enter their store with them to buy things from them. Why. Just why. When you want to buy something that only a specific person sells (Only Hina sells fish, only Heinz sells misc items) you have to wait for them to finally decide to work in their own store. Wonderful.

Monster Item drops. Maybe I'm crazy but the monster drops are seriously a lot harder to get than in previous games. Especially boss drops. It's almost impossible to get the rare drops now. I don't even want to try anymore. And as far as I know, the only place to buy monster items is through Heinz, but his items are actually misc. items, not specifically monster drops. So you'll be lucky to check his store (whenever tf he decides to actually work) for any monster items you might want instead of farming for the drops. Sighs.

Difficulty. This game is too easy. There is little to no challenge whatsoever. I had to increase the difficulty setting to hard mode and it was still too easy. I beat it at level 139, never once did I need to grind or level. In fact, your character levels up way too quickly for the pace of the story. I had zero trouble with any of the bosses and even the final boss was a breeze. Quite sad. Though because I am not new to the franchise, it's likely that newcomers would have some trouble in the later parts of the story.

Fishing cons. Idk how you fck up fishing but they sure did. You have to stand further back now because the pole is so long that you'll miss the fish you're aiming for. In fact, it's seriously hard to aim period. You'll end up recasting more often than not. Fish come in the various sizes but they don't seem to have the darker or faded characteristics that can indicate whether it's a rare fish or not. The graphics make it hard to tell. The pros that i've already mentioned are welcomed but it doesn't negate the fact that I do not enjoy fishing like I did in previous games.

Mining/Lumbering Cons. You can no longer strike three times consecutively when mining/lumbering. This sucks lol. Even when you upgrade your axe or hammer, powering up the tool does nothing for getting wood and material stone--it only expands the area of your strike. So it takes longer to get wood/stone from stumps and rocks now since you have to strike the full 9 times but it's not too bad. It's also harder to aim now as well so that's also unfortunate.

Seasonal Fields? Kiss them goodbye! That's right, there are no seasonal fields in rf5 because devs are insane! You instead have the farm dragons that seem to look seasonal based on the fact that they are designed after elements like earth, water, and fire. But no, these dragons are simply extra fields for you to use. Here's a spoiler: you're not going to use those fields. You're just not. They're kinda useless unless you're obsessed with farming. Now you have to grow your crops out of season like the sad farmer that you are.

Farming cons. Seeds no longer tell you how long it takes to grow the crop. Why. As of June 29th, they fixed this with an update. But I still had to play the whole game without it so fuck you marvelous. The joystick is really sensitive? So when you're trying to use a fertilizer or something on your field you're likely to place it on the wrong 4x4 tile, wasting your fertilizer. So it’s best to hold down the R button when farming. Also the crops look uglie as hell.

Sleeping and warping cutscenes. Just like in rf4 there's a cutscene when you go to sleep that can be skipped easily by pressing A. In rf5, there's a cutscene to sleep and a cutscene when waking up. It takes a bit more than a second to skip these scenes so it gets annoying after a while. Warping is this new feature that replaces our beloved escape spell. Overall I appreciate the feature but I hate it for two reasons. One: there's an annoying ass cutscene for it each time you use it that could be much shorter. And Two: townsfolk now use warp even when inside the town. In previous games, someone exiting your party in town would just manually run to wherever they need to be. So you could easily chase after them if you need to talk to them or give them something. Now, party members use warp regardless of where you are at the time. So say you have someone at 7 hearts and you want to try confessing to them. You would have them join your party, save your game, and then have them leave your party and immediately speak to them and confess before they can run off. If it doesn't work you reload until it does. In RF5 this wouldn't work anymore because they will warp. Now you would have to save, run around town trying to find this person and hope they accept the confession. Otherwise you'll have to play hide and seek again because reloading your file will randomize the resident's locations (if they are not working in a shop)!!!! I often just waited until a festival day because then they will be at the plaza for most of the day and it has a warp point there.

Crafting/Forging/Cooking. They've removed the feature where you can press Y on the ingredients in the menu to add more of that particular item. I miss this feature :'(

Lacks incentive. There is no trophy room from my knowledge. The final dungeon that is meant to be like the sharance maze/rune prana isn't that hard to beat for skilled players and is only 20 floors. After you beat the main story and this dungeon there's not much else to do really.

Request Board. Unlike in rf4, you need to make sure you have accepted requests before you complete them or else it will not count. Previously, you could complete all sorts of tasks and Eliza would still recognize your work even if you accept their request after the fact. ie, shipping goods, harvesting crops, etc. So make sure you don't harvest your special crops before accepting the request it's for!

Return of the "Loli" Dragons... Yeah you read that right. We got more dragons in children's(???) bodies with skimpy clothes. I don't know anymore????¿¿¿

Can't marry the Milfs or Dilfs. Tragic.

Still no homo. Grow up Marvelous.

Reverse Proposal? Reverse Uno card-- Laid low by the patriarchy. You now have to buy the double bed and craft an engagement ring to propose to your man if you're playing as Alice. Marvelous this isn't what we meant when we said we wanted equal rightsssssss This can be seen as a pro if you're a softhearted babey who doesn't like rejecting bachelors' proposals because you feel bad :'( But this is a con for me because I don't want to spend money and materials on a double bed dammit!!!

Misc. Still can't stack dishes or fish. There's no green elemental fairy???All the other elemental ones are there except the green one? why??? Still can't tame the giant Wooly. Some bosses that have insanely awesome designs cannot be tamed and makes me wanna eat glass.

Let's talk about Love~

Relationships. We want them. And half of us only play these games for them. I've only played as the female heroine so far but I'll be updating this review as soon as I finish with the bachelorettes as the male hero.

Confessions

As usual, we must raise the love points of our beloved to 7 hearts before we can attempt to date them. However unlike in rf4, if you fail at a confession once, you will need to raise the LP up an entire level before you can try again with any chance of success. It's imperative you save before attempting a confession now.

Love Events

Each love interest has two love events that must be seen before you can date them. They're reminiscent of older game's style but I felt they could have been a biiiit more interactive or so? Or involved the town a bit more for some of them.

Dating

Once you get your honey to be your bf/gf, you get to choose the nicknames as usual. Then you can go on dates. The first three (non-festival) dates are actually events. You need to see all three events to get married.

Marriage Event

The final event you need to clear before you can marry your sweetie. In my honest opinion, so far for the boys, these events were rather disappointing. They lacked the drama and angst that sort of 'test' the love between the two when compared to rf4. Also this is a huge con for me personally and a minor spoiler but there are no special cutscenes at the end of the marriage event like in rf4. Instead, the cutscene takes place during your actual wedding. I was saddened by this because it took away the depth from the marriage events and the actual character? As it is just a cut and paste type of thing instead of an original cutscene for each person. They lack individualism this way. Also it kinda felt like a way for devs to avoid gay relationships and cut corners :^/....sus.

First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes...

Children!!!!!! This is actually one of the coolest additions in the game. Just like in rf3, you can have up to 3 children again! Your first child will resemble you, and you will have the option to choose its gender as well as its personality. There are 6 different children, (3 boys and 3 girls), all with different hairstyles, mannerisms, and seiyuus. Your answers will determine which child you get. A year after your first child is born, you will get the option to have a second child. You'll end up with twins, both resembling your partner. You won't get to choose the genders (it will be a boy and girl) but you will get to choose the personalities once more. The children all have canon names too and each kid is incredibly cute. And of course, you're still able to take your kid with you in your party~ ...Though you can only take one kid with you at a time.

So is RF5 good?

Yeah it's a fun game! My theory is that Marvelous forced the devs to release the game earlier than they were ready for, and that's why it's so lacking. But that doesn't mean it's not worth playing! I'd rate it 3.5/5 stars hehe. Not nearly as good as RF4 (full stop 5/5), or RF3 (4/5) but enjoyable nonetheless. I wouldn't recommend it as a first game to play from the series for newcomers though, I feel it's best for vets who can overlook all the cons thanks to loyalty and nostalgia. By the time it’s released in the West, the bugs should all be dealt with too.

So! Definitely buy this game! We want the series to continue and we want RF6 to be better than this--and hopefully Marvelous will make sure of that next time. If you're not a picky person I think you'll enjoy rf5 a lot. If you're like me and have high standards then, well, still pick it up and let it run its course. Then dust off rf4sp and cleanse your gaming palette >;^)

[plut00nline]

Fuck it im doing it

My 2020 top 20 movie list

(Disclaimer that most of these weren't made in 2020 but I just watched them this year. These aren't also really in a very particular order but they are lowkey ranked) (i also had to be choosey with the images i out cause of the limit, but yeah dont mind that)

20. The perfection

The plot twist in this movie is *chefs kiss* there was no way for me to predict the ending, bug as far as thrillers goes, it is brilliant. And also, lesbians. It can be a pretty triggering movie for ab*se and general gore, but really I love the pacing and the thrill of it.

19. The shining

Ah yes, a classic horror, and though I may feel iffy about Stanley Kubrick, this movie was pretty good. But I am saying this as a person that didn't read the book. The blood rushing down the hallway was really my favourite visual on the movie. It was a movie that made me felt genuinely scared while watching it, like hiding behind my blanket but also sweating scared, the suspense was pretty thrilling though

18. Doctor Sleep

Man do I love Danny Torrance, and Abra, fuck I love them both. Again, I never read the book, but my ignorance keeps me in bliss. The visuals of this movie are also great, and the emotions this movie puts through? I'm just glad headcanons exist, but really I did enjoy this movie even if it wasn't what I was expecting.

17. Birds of prey

Harley deserved a movie, and the fact that it was directed by a woman makes me love it so much more because we just got to see harley doing the things that she fucking wanted. This movie is wlw solidarity, from Margot robbie to Mary Elizabeth Winstead, women with crossbows? Sign me the fuck up. And from all the DC films I've seen, it's so much brighter, in the visual sense, there's colour! There's character! And not everyone is just brooding in darkness, its the type of movie that would make me actually watch and enjoy DC films.

16. Charlie's angels

Firstly, lesbians. Thank you. But really, its a good action comedy and really I'll jump at the chance to see women kick ass.

15. My octopus teacher

I've never cried over an octopus before, so that was an experience. And even though this is technically not a movie, I still wanted to put it on here cause it was really just a great documentary, especially since it happened in my home country and im very oddly proud of that fact.

14. Knives out

Murder mystery and chris evans go so well together. I have made a longer post, but to sum it up, like most of the movies on this list. The colours and the pacing and just the atmosphere of the movie was spectacular, and even though I couldve guessed the ending, I was still on the edge of my seat for most of it

13. Ready or not

I love this new wave of eat the rich media. Samara weaving is a great actor and I am in love with her and this whole movie. It really was something that I hadn't actually seen before and the fact that the whole curse thing at the end was true was really just wow. Along with eat the rich, I love the feral female energy lately, and the whole white clothing slowly but surely being covered in blood.

12. Geralds game

The line "youre only made of moonlight" lives in my head rent free. This movie, was really an experience and for a movie with only two people in it for the majority, it is really well done. I'll always feel iffy about a man writing a woman's experience (specifically) but I do love the way this movie went, yeah I hated the "Hand" scene, but I still enjoyed the after math of it.

11. The old gaurd

Again, more lesbians, what more could I ask for? The concept for this movie is brilliant, immortal mercenaries is the only trope I want from now on, and found family.

10. Parasite

Again with the eat the rich. This movie was mindblowing, and just, the imagery!! And im glad they didn't dub it in English cause fuck that, I enjoyed it perfectly with subtitles.

9. song of the sea

This movie, this movie! Is so precious and I had that song stuck in my head for days.the name Saoirse is also so oddly pleasing to hear. This story is so beautiful, the music is amazing and it makes me want to be a fae.

8. Scott pilgrim vs the world

This movie really did pass what my expectations for what I thought it was gonna be, the music was amazing, the transitions and editing style was *chefs kiss* and even though I felt like I was in a fever dream the whole time, it'd be a fever dream I'd gladly rewatch.

7. The imitation game

Thank you Alan Turing. This movie recked me, like emotionally, I was a mess when I was done with it, but damn was it good, like I really just felt something while watching it, I mean most.of the movies on this list did, but this one just really hit me in some way.

6. Klaus

At least there are still good Christmas movies being made. Actually, I was a mess for this one too, the second that child got that sleigh thing it was over for my emotions. The whole sirge of turning Santa into this big macho dude really is working out and that's how Santa should always be depicted. I could gush about the animation style of this movie all fucking day, I love it so much (and the shadows!!! Ahh the shadows!) It really is just incredible.

5. I'm thinking of ending things

Hey man, I knew this was gonna fuck me up just by looking at the trailer, but there was absolitley no way to prepare for whatever was about to happen. Even after watching it, I have no idea what happened. But I still found it great, I love movies that give me an existential crisis.

4. Spirited away

All I wanted to do, was eat everything in that movie, even if it would turn me into a pig, holy hells this movie is good. There was just this satisfying appeal to it that I can't quite put into words. Its beautiful like everything studio ghibli movie ever.

3. The Willoughbys

I never knew I needed a found family movie with a bunch of kids that were already family. I've made a longer post about this movie, and I dont think I could really say more, this movie is so fucking touching and I love the direction it went in plot wise.

2. Howl's moving castle

Again, I may not have understood wtf was going on, but I'll be damned if I didn't love every second of it. There is no doubt that this movie is stunning, and I really am a suckered for early 2000's 2d animation, because!!! Look at it!!! Studio Ghibli films always just floor me with how good they look. I really wanna read the book, because I would absolutley love to see a feral Sophie giving howl shit for crying over hair.

1. Us

This movie will always be my no. 1 it is amazing and I love everything jordan peele has done with his movies. Especially for it to have a full black cast, and those black people have darker skin than what is normally shown in media. The feral but also calculated nature of each character is beautiful and nothing can ever make me hate this movie

I hope you enjoyed this incoherent "review" of my favourite movies I watched in 2020, its been a shit show and movies really have been a place of comfort for me. But stay safe and happy new year!

[sanstropfremir]

please let me join the dance conversation since it's the form of art i am actually the most interested in. i've been dancing as a kid for 6 years, and i don't mean to say that that gave me any type of authority in the domain, but it did leave me with the slight ability to recognize a good performance (or whatever makes a good performance to me, personally) and a great appreciation for valueing dancing as acting, like you said. too often i've seen dance ranking videos from actual life-long dancers who value technical skill above anything else. even if they take into consideration the facial expressions, it doesn't hold much weight and that always lowkey pissed me off. because when i am watching a performance, i care way more about the emotional delivery rather than the technical one. of course, this is not to disregard skill, because emotion without skill just ends up messy. good enough to appreciate as a form of authentic self-expression, but still messy, and mess won't make you a good dancer.

i've really enjoyed seeing you say dancing and acting have a mutual component since i've always felt that way too but never knew how to put it in words. two groups that come in mind when thinking about this are blackpink and itzy, i have no idea how familiar you are with them so i'm sorry if the following come across as foreign to you. but i gotta say, regarding bp, i think there's always been discourse over lisa vs rose as the best dancer. technically, everybody knows lisa is miles ahead, and i have to say she has decent stage presence and some pretty nice facial expressions too (taking into consideration how limited bp's concepts have been so far). rose, on the other hand, has a certain style that appeals to a specific audience (which i am not a part of, her lack of body control is so irritating sometimes) but i can see why some would find her charming. i would say her stage presence is decent too, but i can't help but choose lisa over her, and not just because i'm biased. but because in order to be a true dancer, you need the right balance between technique and emotion that gives your performance that star-value and appeal. and let's be real, kpop is really lacking in that "true dancer" department.

another dancing discourse that goes on is in the itzy fandom, where fans are pitting yeji and chaeryeong against each other. their techniques are quite different but they are each very good in their respective style. now, i've seen people call yeji the better "idol dancer" since she has better developed facial expressions, and chaeryeong the better "overall dancer" since people value her technique more. and i'm just like, no. emotion makes or breaks a dancer. everyone can learn technique, but emotion is hard to fake, and when you do, the non-authenticity is very much obvious.

that's why i love san as a dancer. he might not be the most technically skilled, but he is skilled enough to hold his own. and his way of living in the performance, of just letting every feel of the song wash over him and show the audience 110% and more - nothing compares to that, no amount of technicality. stage presence is something you just have, and no matter how much you train for it, you will pale in comparison to a natural.

wow, this is really long so thank you if you take the time to read it all and respond. english is not my first language and sometimes i'm having trouble finding the right words to get my point across exactly how i think of it in my mind, so i hope the message is delivered accurately, haha :D also, i must add i love the way you talk, your speech has a flow and a uniqueness to it you don't find everyday. and we love a developed vocabulary<3 may i ask how old you are?

thank you for the compliment, thats very sweet of you! english is my native language and i have spent just as much time, if not longer doing academics as i have doing performance work so at this point ive developed a very specific style. there’s a joke that theatre design is 90% communication and only 10% design, and it’s not wrong. it helps that i like to talk and my brain works very fast sometimes.

im glad you took the time to write this out! and don't apologize for your english, it's excellent and very clear. you are correct i know very little about blackpink and itzy but i would likely agree with you, dance is equal parts emotion and technique and that is my preference in idols as well. but i don’t think that the kpop industry needs to have ‘true’ dancers, though. yes it is fun to watch those who are technically and charismatically gifted in dance, it is only a portion of the experience that they market. also i think we lose a bit of objectivity in kpop because all idols are required to dance, but i dont think ive seen one recently that's a legitimately bad dancer. even the ‘worst’ dancers that i can think of are still leagues better than the average person on the street, but we see them as ‘bad’ because they work directly alongside peers who are legitimately gifted and have a passion for dance as a form. 

it's interesting to hear you say that everyone can learn technique but emotion is hard to fake, because i hear a lot of dancers say that. i think this comes from a misunderstanding of what exactly acting is and how it works. i would argue that a statement closer to the sentiment that you (and many others) are trying to get is ‘not everyone can do both at the same time.’ the average person is no more predisposed to acting then they are to dance, because acting is a skill that can be taught and exercised in the same way dance can. sure, there are people that have a higher latent ability, but if you put in the work, you can learn. why do you think there are acting classes and schools and conservatories? you can get a doctorate in acting if you really want to. the thing about acting is that in order to be good at it, you have to both understand and be able to implement the correct postures for mimicking human emotion. this is an insanely complex task when you get down to the brass tacks of it. just think about your face and body posture for a moment. why are you sitting/standing in that particular way? why is your face in that particular expression? what do you think your posture is saying to someone who is observing you? how would you change it if you wanted the person to start a conversation with you? if you wanted them to leave you alone? 

there’s also a general assumption that acting comes from a place of genuine or authentic emotion, and this is the fault of modern ‘method’ film acting. i have a very long thesis about how much i hate method acting and i can make a separate post about that if people are curious. but suffice to say, acting very rarely comes from a ‘genuine’ place. it may be informed from a genuine place, but by nature it is not real. thats what makes it acting. and i think dancers seem to be under the impression that showing emotion while dancing has to come from the dancer personally feeling those emotions, when thats not the case at all. this criminal fancam is a perfect example of exactly how good taemin is at putting on a character for a performance. you can very clearly see him drop character after the main camera cuts, and pretty much any concert footage shows this as well.

now, being able to do both a complex system of physical movements with your body and also control the minute details and timing in your facial muscles and posture? thats pretty fuckin hard. not a lot of people can do that, it takes just as much practice as learning technique does, just not in the way that people might think. but it is possible.

[luffysmeat]

More artist [Name]-san to clean our souls! 💕 I hope you enjoy this! I'm sorry for the long wait! And I'm also sorry because I'm gonna make headcanons instead of scenarios! I hope you don't mind too much! (This one got a bit longer than expected! Sorry for the spam!)

Kidd

It's hard to be an artist.

You always have the need to draw certain people or certain objects because they are appealing to your eyes.

One of those certain people is none other than your captain: Eustass Kidd.

Kidd is fierce. You know that. Even as a lover he's rather the violent, possessive and dominant type.

People usually try to stay away from him, always scowling and looking as he's about to murder the neext person that looks at him.

But, even when you know that, to you... He's a masterpiece.

Your fingers always itch to make a painting or even just a quick drawing of him, from the very first moment you ever land an eye on him.

You can easily ask him, really, but knowing him, he'd say no and that would upset you quite a lot... So you don't risk it, even though...

"You're staring again." ... You always find yourself doing exactly that, staring at him and being exposed by Killer.

You can't really blame yourself. The mere existence of Kidd is enough to have you wanting make a painting of him, so now that he's working out right in front of you... It's really hard not to stare.

His muscles tensing and stretching with each of his movements as he beares his teeth a bit, growling softly, reaching his limit already. He's covered in a thin layer of sweat and, really, who the heck allowed him to work out shirtless?

"For God's sake, you are staring again."

You can't help but laugh, your cheeks burning bright red. "I'm sorry. I really, really want to draw him."

"Don't you have thousands of drawings?"

"I do, but they're just quick sketches, I want to make a painting... Do you think he'd be happy to know that?"

Killer hums, looking at his captain who's suddenly screaming to a poor guy that stepped too close to him while he was doing push-ups.

"No," he simply says and you bark out a laugh, flushing when Kidd looks up at you with narrowed eyes.

Maybe he's right...

However, later that day, when everyone settled down to their respective quarters and you sneaked into the captain's chambers claiming that you were cold, (not after he growled and scolded you while be opened the door for you and threw like three covers to the bed), you thought that it was the time to actually ask him!

So, as you watched him sitting in front of his desk, ("warm yourself up! I gotta finish this first!"), checking on some reports... You know that you really love your lover...

From his protective and fierce side to his always-angry-face, however, you loved him in this state even more: his features relaxed as he reads down on some documents, his hair down and his head free of those goggles of his. He's even wearing a simple long sleeved shirt that wraps around his muscles, his reading glasses sitting gracefully on the bridge of his nose.

He looks ethereal and you immediately reach down for your drawing materials, (which you keep in the last drawer of his bedside table), and place yourself in bed.

"Captain?"

"Hmm?" His hum sounds more like a growl and you laugh.

"Captain, can I make a painting of you?"

He looks up at you, his eyes squinting, "what?"

"I'm sure you heard me."

"I heard you," he snaps back. "But I'm asking why are you such an idiot." You laugh at his words.

"Don't be scared, captain. You'll look even better in my painting."

"Scared?! Who is scared? And even better, is that even possible?" You roll your eyes. "Do whatever you want. I don't care and stop talking, I'm busy right now."

"Is that a yes?"

"[Name]..."

"Thank you captain!" You giggle, quickly pulling out everything, from pencils to brushes and acrylics; placing everything on the bed as carefully as you can. "I know," you say, hearing him open his mouth to speak. "You'll snap my neck if I mess up with your precious bed."

He growls again, but he refrains from saying anything else, coming back to his report.

You don't say anything else, either, as you place the sketchbook into your lap and as soon as you find a clean sheet, you start to trace his form with a light pencil, sketching him easily, thanks to all the practice. Your eyes do not linger on his body, you know by memory each curve, dip and sharp bone on his body.

So it doesn't take long before you start with the actual painting, brushing on your canvas quickly and not noticing that Kidd was looking at you with the softest of looks he can even master.

He makes sure to quickly look down at his paperwork when you look up at him, frowning and pursing his lips a bit.

After a few minutes, he's too engrossed in his work and you are aswell, so when the clock marks 2 am and his back already feels stiff and his eyeslids heavy, he's ready to call it a day and wrap up his work to finally lay down in bed... But he sees you there...

"Oi, I want to sleep already, how much time is gonna-

"I'm done!" You say excitedly, there are actual tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You really did it! You really made a painting of Eustass Kidd! What a nice moment to be al-

"Let me see it."

"E-Eh?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Let me see it, you said I'd look better in your painting that in real life, so let me see how good I look."

Now maybe you have a big mouth, it's true that the painting was good... But Kidd couldn't get any more good-looking... Is not natural... You show him, regardless and he's speechless.

"It's..." He says, getting up from his chair and walking towards you, snatching the painting out of your hands. He studies it carefully, his eyes are wide and his mouth slightly open. "It's..." He looks at you and bites down his tongue, you are looking at him with such a gleam in your eyes! Stop! "It's... Not bad."

"Aah! Really? Do you like it? You can't keep it!"

"Like it? I've seen better! I'm sure you can improve! Unbelievable! You were bragging all around and..." He slowly shuts his mouth as he actually looks for a place to put the drawing. It end ups in a drawer on his desk... A drawer that he very much use it all the time.

That's more than you can ask from Kidd. "I'm glad you liked it, captain."

"... Move, let's sleep now. I'll kill you if you still the blankets."

Killer

He loves looking at you while you are drawing.

He has told you plenty of times that he loves how lovely you look and how adorable are certain things that you unconsciously do when you are too focused.

He has also asked you plenty of times if he can see your art and you answer is always the same:

"O-oh, it's not that great!"

With that little stuttering and all, but he knows you are is great because you do sometimes share a drawing of painting to him.

But you really don't want to show him the rest of your art because... He's in most of it!

He's there eating, training, fighting, even just breathing! You are just too embarrassed to actually show him that!

What if he thinks you are stalking him? ... Even though he's your lover is still very embarrassing.

The less he knows, the better... However, one night when you got quite a few drinks on you and he was taking you back to your room, you just couldn't keep your mouth shut.

"I love you," you say over and over again as he walked you to the room and placed you in bed.

"I love you too."

"And you are very hot." That caught him a bit off guard as he tried to pull your hair in a bun. "That's why I can't stop drawing you."

"... What?"

You giggle like a maniac. "That's the reason I don't let you look at my drawings! They're all you! Every single one."

He's blushing juuust a bit as he puts his mask off. "Every single one?"

"Mhmm," you nod. "Every single one... I actually want to make a painting of you!"

"... Do it."

"Really?" He nods and you smile widely. "Then I will... But right now I'm sleepy, so goodnight, I love you see you..."

You fell asleep in seconds, losing a small smile on Killer's lips and a kiss on your forehead.

But that's okay because you are way too embarrassed the next morning.

You actually just exposed yourself while drunk, huh? Great! Just great, now he will think that You-

And then you remember, he actually said you could make a painting of him!

You look at your side, Killer is still asleep, so you silently gather all your art stuff and get to work immediately.

You don't feel time passing until Killer started to wake up, groaning softly like he always does and making you giggle.

He looks at you right away, surprised to see you up, sitting on the bed. "Morning. Why are you awake? How are you feeling?"

You smile at him. "Good morning. I'm good, thank you for taking care of me. And I was... Just finishing your painting."

He wakes up fully right away and sits up, looking at you with slightly wide eyes. You giggle, placing a hand on his cheek. "You are so beautiful. Thank you for letting me do this."

He leans in your touch and nods as you lend him the still fresh painting. He widens his eyes slightly.

"This is..."

"You looked so paceful, I couldn't resist painting you like this. I... Wanted a painting of you without your mask, though, I'm sorry."

He looks at the painting for minutes before he finally puts it down and and holds you between his arms.

"Thank you. I love it. I'll keep it forever."

You smile widely, embracing him back. "I love you."

"I love you too."

"Oh, let me clean this up, I'm gonna ruin the sheets aga- oh, nevermind."

He laughs and you feel in heaven.

Baby 5

"Are you drawing again, [Name]?"

You jump out of your skin, quickly closing the sketch book in front of you.

"B-Baby 5-san, you scared me."

Baby 5 squeaks and apologizes like crazy, nearly crying in the spot.

"A-ah! It's fine! It's fine! It's not your fault!" You chuckle, holding her hands between yours. "I am not angry," you say smiling at her.

She lets out a long sigh, holding your hands back. "W-what are you drawing so focused?" She asks shyly, widening her eyes when your cheeks turn bright red. "Oh?"

"It's- it's nothing bad! It's just... It's just..." You let go of her hands to cover your face. "I really want to draw Baby 5-san... But I'm not sure if-

"You- y-y-y-y-you want to draw me?" She grabs your shoulders, shaking you a bit.

"Y-Yeah, Baby 5-san is really beautiful and I want to make a painting... For you..."

Baby 5 looks at you for like one second before she actually starts crying, hugging you tightly. "B-Baby 5-san, don't cry please! Did I upset you?" You hug her back, but she grabs you by the shoulder again, shaking you until you feel dizzy.

"Y-You didn't upset me! I'm happy! Stop being so stupid! But you are not stupid! I'm sorry for saying that!" You hold her back, trying to stop her shaking you as you giggle.

"Then, is that a yes? Can I make a painting of you?"

"Yes, you can! Dammit!"

You really don't ask her to make any pose for you, you only need to see her around and about to catch all of figure.

She gets a bit nervous, though, because you are following her around and also get a bit worried because she sees you holding all of your stuff everywhere you go.

She cries a bit when you accidentally let one of your acrylics fall, messing up the floor.

"I've finished," you say that night when both of you are back into your quarters. "It's still a bit fresh, so please be careful with your fingers- Oh," you whisper, hiding the painting behind your back. "D-Do you want to look at it?"

"What? Yes, of course I want to!"

You smile shyly at her, and slowly show your painting.

She cries and you laugh a bit.

"Now now, you've been crying a lot today. Is it that bad, Baby 5-san?"

She hits your arm, making you laugh. "Don't be silly! I love it! It's... It's so pretty! No one has... Has ever made something like this for me. I- I-

You hug her tightly, kissing her cheek. "You are my beautiful girlfriend, of course I would make something just as beautiful as you. I love you."

She sobs and leans in to kiss you. You hum, holding her face between your hands as you kiss her back.

Lola

"Lo-Lola-san!" You giggle, trapped between her arms as she covers your face with kisses. "S-stop!" Your cheeks are bright red, Lola only squeezing you tighter in her embrace.

"What do you mean stop?" She asks, actually stopping to look at you. "You expect me to just sit there and say 'okay' when you ask me to make a painting of me?! Impossible!"

"I-If you are kissing me like this, I will not be able to actually do the painting!" She hums, kissing you one more time before she lets go of you.

"After you are finished with the painting, please marry me, [Name]," she says seriously, holding your hand between hers.

You giggle shyly. "I already said that I will marry you, now let me get my stuff ready, okay?"

Lola is usually very composed, but, as soon as you asked her if you could make a painting of her, she nearly cried, screaming and throwing hearts and flowers everywhere and even using that funny voice of hers when she feels too "enamored".

"How should I pose for you, [Name]?"

"I heard you saying that you have to take care of some paperwork, you can do that while I work on your painting!"

You laugh nearly all your painting session.

Everytime you look up at Lola, she's in a different pose, each pose more dramatic than the last.

She even asks you to stop laughing because "you're gonna ruin my painting, [Name]!"

"I will not ruin it if you stop doing such poses!"

She eventually stopped, not because she wanted to, but because she got a bit occupied with her paperwork.

Now that your laughter died on, you worked faster and in a couple of hours, you were sighing and stretching your arms up.

"Lola-san, I've finished!"

She literally jumps out of her seat and runs to you in a blink of an eye.

She gasps as she looks at the painting. She's not sitting just sitting formally in front of her desk, she is actually in one of her silly poses, showing her big smile and the warm eyes he looks at you with, her cheeks flushed slightly and it's just-

"[Name], it's beautiful!"

"That's because you are beautiful, Lola-san!" She looks at you with teary eyes. "You are the one in the painting, so of course it is beautiful, just like you!"

She lets out a cry and wraps you in another tight hug, even lifting you a bit.

"Thank you, [Name]! I love you so much!" She cries as she gives you another round of endless kisses.

"I love you too, Lola-san!" You answer giggling and hugging her just as tight.

[useless12sstuff]

Short stories #3

. 3 Above and Beyond

Trudging through the woods, I try to place the majority of my weight on my makeshift cane. Squinting my eyes, I try to keep sight of my path. The moon is of barely any help. If I had known it would be dark I would've snuck out a torch. Pulling my coat tighter around myself and wishing, not for the first time, that I should've worn something warmer above my hospital gown. I buried my nose in my scarf and yet, the crisp air still burned down my lungs. If my cigarettes don't kill me first, the cold certainly will. 'You shouldn't be here', the guilty part of my brain whispered. I squashed that thought down just like the leaves under my feet. Silly Linda, I scoff. She thought she could keep me in the ward by locking the door. Well look now, I jumped out the window. Well the pangs in my leg are almost making me regret. Almost. Oh whatever. To hell with Linda and her false pretenses. She can act sweet and coy all she likes but I know she wants me dead. Not more than I do but it is a mutual sentiment that is reciprocated. She's far too young anyway. A bit naive and very gullible. Very overconfident too but she is under the assumption that she's being 'smart' and 'sharp' and that an old, miserable midget like me won't be able to see right through her. An absolute fool. I despise it here.

I hobble my way to my usual spot, a clearing somewhere in the middle of the woods. The crescent moon stares down at me, as if judging. Sitting down on a tree stump while catching my breath, I pull out a pack of cigarettes that Linda missed and a lighter from my coat pocket. A cold draft rushed and rustled the trees and I held my coat tighter, shivering badly. With numb hands I light a cigarette and hold the lighter close, the tiny flame giving me a semblance of warmth. Sigh. I wouldn't want the fluid to run out. I pocketed it, closed my eyes and enjoyed my cigarette. Deep inhale and then exhale. Inhale and exhale. Finally, some peace and quiet….

…. Which did not last longer than twenty minutes. A sharp, whip like crack sobered me up and I opened my eyes to a terrifying sight. A creature with four faces, more than a hundred wings, taller than the trees, so huge that I can't distinguish the sky from its body. The moon is nowhere in sight. His whole body consists of uncountable eyes and tongues. What on God's green earth is this!? I can't move. Why am I not moving? Its hellish eyes stared me down. The cigarette I was holding had long fallen. I am a stone, glued to one place. I can't tear my eyes off this- this creature. All too soon, it descends and shifts into a shape more recognizable. A man. Dressed in a pure white robe, inky hair curled in every direction, skin the color of rich soil and piercing charcoal eyes, this man would stand out among any crowd. I must be hallucinating. Are cigarettes supposed to make you hallucinate?

"What kind of alien are you?" I asked in a quivering voice.

The man blinked. Then blinked again. Then stared at me long enough to make me wish I hadn't spoken.

"What kind do you think I am?" he smoothly replies, evading my question.

"A shape-shifting one."

He folds his hands neatly behind his back and doesn't reply.

"And who would you introduce yourself as?" he asks. I have a distinct feeling that he's humouring me. Like a cat who caught a canary.

"I, well, I-uhm-I fancy myself a student." I stuttered out. He doesn't need to know where I am from.

"A student of?"

"Life."

The alien smirked. An uncomfortable silence surrounds us, uncomfortable for me atleast. I feel weaker. Sweat beads at my eyebrows. This alien's presence has a weight that is taking a toll on me.

With nothing to do, I whip out another cigarette. I finished smoking it. Then I pull out a second, then a third, then a fourth.

"How long have you been smoking?" the alien asks suddenly.

"A few decades." I say, lighting another cigarette. A hush falls again.

"How do you speak our language?" I inquired, anything to keep the oppressive silence at bay.

"I've been here before."

"Oh?" I ask, hoping for an elaboration.

"Yes."

None came.

"What is it like?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"Your planet. What is it like?"

"It is a human's dream come true. You can have whatever your heart desires. Food, clothing, land, companions. It is eternal peace-"

"Sounds like heaven." I interrupted.

The alien's lips quirked.

"Something of that sort. It can be very beautiful or very terrible depending on the person."

"Why so?"

"Would you wish for good things to happen to evil people?"

"No. Not at all."

"My point exactly."

"What is evil anyway? Is evil caused by a difficult life?You know, I've always wondered."

The alien calmly looks back at me.

"Have you had a sorrowful life?" he asks, a curious gleam in his eyes.

"Sorrowful?" I scoff. "I can barely recognize myself in the mirror anymore. A saying goes 'Let a man walk the halls of sorrow. Whatever comes out, can it be called a man anymore?' " I asked.

"Sorrow is either growth or wasted potential if you have not learned. Power on the other hand, man cannot be trusted with power. It is too corrupting." the alien argues.

"I'll have to politely disagree. Power in itself is not corrupt. Power attracts those who are corruptible. Those who took the wrong lessons from their sorrows."

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"You have become a cynic only because you felt your life was difficult. Your cigarette is proof enough. It kills you, yet, you stick to it. Doesn't that make you just like them?"

"You are not a human. You don't, and maybe, will never, understand the delicate intricacy of addiction. I am not defending myself. I am ashamed but leaving it is no easy task."

The alien hummed," If you believe so. You are quite a melancholic person." he says, matter of fact.

"So I've been told." I smiled self deprecatingly, "Look at me, debating about ideologies with an alien."

The alien smirked, as if he was in on a joke I wasn't. Strange.

I cleared my throat. It felt itchy. Must've been the cigarettes.

"Anyway,how does your planet deal with 'evil' people."

"You need not worry your head over it. Our, ah, justice system is very fair."

"Oh. Where is it located? Your planet that is."

"Not here. It is somewhere above all the galaxies."

That most certainly piqued my interest. I have wished for death on my worst days but on my best days, I've always been a curious bug, too curious for my own good. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

"Why are you here?" I finally cave in to my curiosity.

The alien side eyes me and replies, "I'm here to take one person home with me. Forever."

A thrill raced up my spine and anticipation settled in my bones. I licked my frozen, chapped lips. Perhaps I am being selfish. I spent my entire life looking for an escape, an escape from everything, my depression, my poverty, my disease, that hospital and its disinfectant smelling wards, Linda, this wretched world. That is an artist's curse. Escapism, they say, is an art too and I am anything but unacquainted to art. I always wondered about what was beyond, a place where no man had stepped. The golden threads of time, weaved into the fine fabric of the universe, permitted this opportunity to occur in front of me. I will take it even if my hands bleed.

I have no family that left, nobody who loves me. I'm bitter and alone. I deserve to be selfish for once in my life. To take a big leap, a risk. Yes, I will.

"Take me with you." I begged. "Please."

"Why should I?" the alien replied, staring right in my soul.

"You came for me. I know. If you didn't you wouldn't have landed here." I say, hopefully.

"And if I say that is false? What else would you offer?“

"I can offer you beauty and art. I can create for you."

"We have many of those."

"There will ever only be one like me. Just like there is only one artist like them. Themselves only."

Silence enveloped us again while rejection stung my chest again.

"Allow me to prove myself." I plead.

The alien looked at me, questioning.

"Look in my mind, see all that there is." I say determinedly. And I let him in my mind, let him see the world through my eyes and feel what I felt. I let him see my arts, my music, my poetry, my paintings that I crafted lovingly with my aged hands. I let him see what a human sees, something I know that he had never witnessed. Then I revealed my sorrows. Hopefully humanity would appeal to it.

With a pull he left my head. My eyes burned and I felt a blood vessel burst. I dry heaved on the dead ground but the nausea still lingered. I am glad I was seated or my knees would've buckled and I would've been an undignified heap on the floor. All the while the alien just stared and stared. I am getting sick of his staring too.

Once again, I broke the silence.

"I will paint your skies," I continue, hesitantly, "and your buildings and walls. I will write for the children and even for the old. Just please, take me. I'm exhausted ."

My eyes burned again, unshed tears waiting for release. I avert my eyes and let out a sigh. I feel heavy and my shoulders slump. Unexplainable exhaustion overcomes me and my temperature keeps rising, beads of sweat rolling down my face.

"If," he began,then stopped. It was the first time in our entire conversation that I saw him hesitate.

"If," he continued, "if I were to ask you to scream your wish at me, what would you fear more; your echo or my answer? “

"My echo", I reply instantaneously.

"Why?"

"Because it would mean you have declined."

"Hmm. Recite a poem for me."

I gave a shaky, hopeful smiled and offered him my words:

My river by the oak tree

has turned molten gold again,

as the glowing orb of light and life surrenders to the sapphire sky.

The cotton clouds float in shy, pink circles

While the rush of the river awakens a memory I had long forgotten,

When this same tree once bore luscious flowers,

Their scent wafting lazily into the cool breeze,

While I sat and reminisced about the possibility of other lives in the universe,

Under the wrinkled, silver moon.

Silence hugged us again while the impact of my weakened voice lingered in the air.

"Do you believe in other lives? Aliens and such?" he questioned.

"Yes I do, I mean you are here so that confirms it too."

"You are a funny one. No one has ever mistaken me for an alien." it grinned, crooked, as if a gesture it wasn't familiar with.

My body went cold and tremors shook it to its feeble core, my breath coming out in shallow pants. My eyes shut down of their own accord. The entity then spoke with a voice that might have held the weight of a thousand suns,

"Beyond the stars we go."

[dragon-temeraire]

Could you please do "I come to the library everyday to 'study' but I'm actually watching Netflix over your shoulder and I'm really invested in the series but the day we were going to watch the season final you weren't there and I feel personally betrayed" with Sterek please

Finally got a chance to write this! (On AO3)

Derek isn’t actually here to study.

Sure, it looks like he is—he has a couple of random booksoff the shelf open in front of him—but in reality he’s just screwing around onhis phone, and wishing he’d thought to grab his laptop before being sexiled byhis roommate.

He flips a page in one of the books, stares critically at apicture of a statue. Boring.

He stares at the ceiling, then at a row of bookshelvesacross the way, trying to figure out if there’s somewhere else he should go.He’s not particularly social, or rather, he’s not great at social interaction, so none of the popular spots on campus appealto him. He’s not looking to spend money on the terrible coffee at the campuscafé, either.

Maybe he should just head downstairs to the computer lab,see if he can—

A guy is suddenly pulling out a chair at the table closestto Derek’s, sitting down with his back to him.

Derek didn’t really get a good look, but he has theimpression that the guy is pretty attractive. His shoulders are nice and broad,anyway.

When he pulls out a laptop and fires it up, Derek feels anirrational surge of jealously, then rolls his eyes at himself. He tries to readthe guy’s name as he logs in, but all he catches is an S over the guy’s shoulder.

He can’t see much of the screen as S plugs in his headphonesand starts typing. But then he shifts his chair to the side, leaning back in acomfortable sprawl, and Derek suddenly has a perfect view.

S is on Netflix, starting some show Derek’s heard about, butcan’t remember the name of. It had sounded really interesting, though. Andsince he’s too cheap to actually have a subscription, he’s tempted to get upand ask if he can join S to watch it. But before he even starts to get up fromhis chair, S clicks the subtitles on, which Derek can read if he just leansforward a little.

So he stays right where he is.

If he’d tried to talk to S, he’d probably have just made afool of himself anyway.

 *

 Since Derek’s roommate has an absurdly high libido, Derekfinds himself in the library again the next evening. At least he got his essaydone before he and his girlfriend starting moaning and grinding on each other.

He only has one book in front of him this time, because he’snot even trying to pretend to study. In reality, he’s just waiting to see if Swill show up again.

He ducks his head, starts casually flipping through thepages when he catches a glimpse of S coming through the door.

This floor of the library isn’t busy, so there’s a lot offree tables and study carrels for S to choose from. But he passes them over,and comes to sit in the same spot as last time. That makes Derek smile alittle, even though it probably has nothing to do with him.

It doesn’t really matter, though, because S has the nextepisode pulled up, and Derek is quickly absorbed.

 *

 The next night, Derek’s roommate is out on a date with hisgirlfriend, which leaves the room delightfully free of moaning and wet kissingnoises. He takes a moment to enjoy the peace and quiet, then glances at thebooks on his shelf and considers just staying in. After all, he probably onlyhas a few uninterrupted hours before they’re back.

But he ends up stuffing his phone and keys into his pocketand heading over to the library, anyway.

He just really wants to know what happens next in the show.That’s all.

 *

 It becomes a regular thing. Derek hangs out in the library,sometimes actually working on hisassignments, and waits for S to show up. Then they sort-of watch an episode ortwo together before S packs his stuff away and heads back out.

And every time, Derek considers going over and talking to S, but at this point, hefigures it’d just be weird. Especially because his first impression was right:S is really cute, and that just makes him more intimidating. The fear ofmessing up outweighs the possibility of having a nice conversation and gettingto know S.

Derek’s always been best at playing it safe.

 *

 “Hey, did you make a friend?” Derek’s roommate asks idly ashe taps at his phone. Probably texting his girlfriend.

“What?” Derek says, because the two of them don’t reallyhave conversations outside of ‘are these your socks or mine?’ and ‘don’t lockthe door, I’ll be right back.’

“You haven’t been in the room as much lately. I figured youmade a friend, or maybe started dating someone. Either way, good for you, man.”

Even though his roommate is a horny, inconsiderate asshole,Derek is a little bit touched that he noticed anything different. “Thanks,”Derek says, even though he unfortunately has neither a friend or a date.

Though it’s probably time for him to go hang out at thelibrary like a weirdo again.

 *

 Derek is fairly humming with excitement. They’ve made itthrough nearly all the episodes, and now everything is culminating in theseason finale. He can’t wait to see how all the loose threads are finally goingto come together.

He’s also wondering what show S is going to start watchingnext, and whether or not he’ll be interested in it.

He taps his fingers against his random book, trying not tolook like he’s eager to be here. That would be extra weird.

He’s distracted enough by his musings on the show, that atfirst he doesn’t notice the time.

S is late.

Derek tries to shrug it off. S doesn’t always show up atexactly the same time. And he might be sick, or he might have gotten held up,or maybe had a test to study for.

Derek sighs, flips to a new page, and decides to wait alittle longer.

It’s not like S knowsDerek is here, waiting for him. Derek’s never really on anyone’s radar.

Despite that, when S doesn’t show up at all, Derek feelsdeeply disappointed, almost betrayed. When he drags himself back to his dorm,and his roommate asks him if he got dumped, Derek honestly doesn’t know how toanswer.

 *

 Despite his irritation with S, Derek goes back to thelibrary the next day.

But it seems like S might have bailed on him today, too.

Derek didn’t even grab a book this time, wasn’t in the moodto fake-study, so he pulls out his phone and decides to burn a little more timebefore completely giving up on S.

He’s just checking the weather forecast when he hears achair being pulled back, and looks up to see S sitting down across from him at Derek’s table.

“Hi,” he says, smiling. “My name is Stiles.”

Derek blinks a little at that, but he’s glad he at least gotthe first letter right. “Derek,” he replies, when he realizes Stiles is waitingfor a response.

“It’s nice to meet you, Derek,” Stiles says cheerfully. “Ithought I’d come by, and see if you wanted to watch the finale with me whileactually, you know, sitting next to eachother. Possibly while also eating snacks and making side commentary. It’syour call.”

“Um,” Derek says, because he can’t believe this is actuallyhappening. Stiles noticed him, and apparently doesn’t think he’s a weirdo. “Sure, that’d be nice,” he answers,because it seems like social interaction is a lot easier when someone else doesmost of the talking.

“And then, after that, we could go on a date?” Stiles askshopefully, and Derek freezes.

He really wants togo on a date with Stiles, but he doesn’t know if he should. It won’t take long for Stiles to figure out how awkward andquiet Derek is, or how little experience he actually has with dating, and willlikely lead only to embarrassment and—

“You totally have this ‘I’d live alone in a lighthouse if Icould’ vibe going on, so I’ll promise you now that the date will be totallylow-key,” Stiles says, still smiling, though it’s more tentative now. “It canjust be eating hot pockets in my dorm, if you want. I’d just like a chance—”

“Yes,” Derek cuts in, because he wants a chance, too. “I’llgo on a date with you.”

“Let’s go then,” Stiles says, beaming, and takes Derek’shand in his own before heading toward the library doors.

 *

 “Of course I noticed you,” Stiles says a week later, tuckedin close next to Derek on his dorm bed, clicking through Netflix to find them amovie to watch. “It was cute, they way you would sit there and frown at thebooks. I kept trying to figure out a way to get you to talk to me that wouldn’tbe weird. Especially since you seemed kind of shy.”

Derek laughs. “Kind of,” he agrees.

“But after twelve episodes, I realized my plan wasn’tprogressing, and that I would have to take matters into my own hands,” Stilessays, nudging Derek with his shoulder.

“I’m glad you did,” Derek says, smiling back. “I feel likethings worked out pretty well.”

Stiles leans over and kisses Derek softly on the lips. “Hellyeah, they did,” he says, and forgets about picking out a movie for a while. 

[nightfayre]

I just LOVE your Pacific Rim AU fic. You write so well! Really! I sent some of the anons that have been highlited here and im so glad you liked them so I'm kinda fan girling a little!!! *0* Also: What do you think the boys want to be in the future? (like, profession wise). And Q2: Do you have, like, a method for writing??

oh jesus, asks like these always make me want to cry! thank you so, so much!! it makes me insanely happy & grateful to hear that people are enjoying F&F, and i’m so excited to continue the story!! thank you!

and as for your questions:

1. oof, this is a hard one. the one thing i know for certain is that He Tian wants nothing to do with his family or their business. he’s been through enough trauma and heartache — especially as a kid — and those broken bonds will not be easily repaired. and while i believe that He Cheng will always be there for him, i don’t see He Tian working in close relation with his brother, either. in some of the chapters Old Xian has released where the boys are older, He Tian is always dressed in attire that suggests he works some kind of office job. however i just can’t imagine someone like He Tian confined to a cubicle for 7-8 hours. the most plausible/reasonable answer i can provide is that He Tian works with some kind of surveillance/security company. he’s never been one for “minding his own business,” and so i think this line of work would suit his power-hungry and nosy personality. he’d be able to work in a profession that is practically the opposite of his family’s business, and maybe that’d help ease his mind as well. in general, i think the opportunity for He Tian to not only work in an office environment but also in the field would suit him perfectly.

as for Guan Shan… oh lord. let’s just imagine that this poor boy has finally shaken off most of his family’s debts and can start focusing on a stable career rather than jumping back and forth between part-time jobs. i can definitely see Guan Shan as a gym trainer and/or weights instructor — especially for kids and teens. it’s obvious that Guan Shan has an athletic streak in him and he’s also been in his fair share of fights due to bullying & the family-related feuds that he got into as a kid. despite the everlasting scowl on his face, i’m positive that Guan Shan wouldn’t want any kid to go through the same shit he did. but since he can’t control the fate of others, at least he can make them strong enough to deal with whatever comes their way. i can clearly imagine Guan Shan offering lessons to middle schoolers, high schoolers, and young adults. plus, the exercise would work wonders for Guan Shan himself, too. all that simmering anger has to be dealt with somehow, and i think Guan Shan would find more value in putting his talents towards a good cause rather than letting himself waste away.

now, Jian Yi. with all the time and education he lost when he was kidnapped in high school, i don’t see Jian Yi working in a career field that demands a higher education. don’t get me wrong — Jian Yi is not stupid and he certainly has an inkling of street smartness in him when drastic times call for drastic measures. however, the world continues to move forward even if you were kidnapped and trapped on a deserted island. so, with all that considered, i see Jian Yi as a small business owner. of course, it would take many years and a lot of hard work and discipline, but the idea of Jian Yi managing a cozy coffee shop or a family-friendly restaurant is too appealing to ignore. he would be a favorite among his regular costumers, and the competition of bigger companies wouldn’t be too daunting for him. honestly, i think he would have a blast as a business owner because now he gets to make all the rules instead of having his life dictated for him.

Zheng Xi, surprisingly, is the easiest one for me to decide. with everything that happened to Jian Yi and what followed in the aftermath — including Zheng Xi’s overwhelming feelings of helplessness, hopelessness, powerlessness — i can 100% see Zheng Xi working in law enforcement. the trauma of Jian Yi’s disappearance will initially crush poor Zheng Xi, but i believe that he’s strong enough to get back up again and work hard to make sure this doesn’t happen to anyone else without there being an answer for it. of course, additionally, he would also have the authority and support to protect Jian Yi and his other loved ones. Zheng Xi is protective, strong, intelligent, strict, and caring — he will work wonders in law enforcement. of course, he’d look great in the uniform too :)

2. and now your second question! i will put my answer to this question under the cut because this post has already gotten, uhm, tragically long. but read on if you want to see my answer!

this is going to sound a bit weird, but i write the best when i have an enormous bottle of water at hand. it helps me focus and refrain from getting distracted by other things around me. also, it forces me to take breaks when i desperately need to go to the bathroom, lol. getting a healthy amount of sleep also prevents my eyes from getting too tired whilst staring at a computer screen, and a blanket is always around my shoulders to help me feel more comfortable in my stiff chair.

otherwise, for my actual writing style — that’s harder to describe. i guess i try to have an even mix of vernacular and embellished language. it’s hard to explain, but i suppose that i’m always striving to allow the characters’ voices and personalities to shine through in my writing. i never write in first-person but i want it to feel as if it were in that perspective because it allows my audience to feel more connected to the story and better understand why the characters act/think the way they do. however, this often makes my chapters/stories a lot longer than planned because i strive to capture the essence of the boys’ thoughts and actions. it’s painful but it’s really a lot of fun, because one moment i can have a three-bullet list of what i want to accomplish plot-wise in a chapter — and the next moment i’m 10 pages in and have only accomplished the first bullet point…

with 19 Days, all four boys have a distinct voice/personality that makes it so much easier when i’m writing F&F. although they will eventually and literally be in each other’s minds, i want the audience to already have a general idea of how the individual boys think and feel without the aid of the Ghost Drift. it will make it all the more dramatic when two different personalities/mindsets collide (cough cough tianshan cough cough) because the audience will already know what to expect of a character’s personality. idk; i hope that makes sense to you?

TLDR; i start with a bullet list of plot points for each chapter, i keep writing and writing and writing until my fingers start to cramp, and then i’m still never satisfied with what i produce. it’s a hard life…

anyway, this was a long f-cking post but i hope i answered your questions!! and thank you so much for sending me your headcanons — all of them are so amazing and heartwarming!! thank you!!

[pbandjesse]

Today was a pretty good day. There was a big stressful part of the beginning but the majority of the day was very good. There was even a special surprise. And yoga.

I slept super poorly last night. I couldn't fall asleep for forever because I felt sick and nauseous and bad. And then when I did fall asleep I woke up a few times again. Air conditioner turned off in the middle of the night and James rollover next to me and I woke up just horribly uncomfortable. He wouldn't turn the air conditioning back on that because he always takes care of me. And I was able to sleep until about 7.

James was awake and told me I could keep sleeping but I didn't really want to. I wanted to lay there so I just played on my phone for a while. And then I got up. I got cleaned up and dressed and I felt okay.

I hung in my hammock for a little bit and then James told me he made a waffle. And I was like okay. And I was confused because he had asked me what I wanted for breakfast last night and I said I was going to have the avocado scramble thing I made the other day. And then he remembered that after he made the waffle and felt very bad. But it was fine. He made the thing I wanted and he had the waffle for breakfast instead.

I got the best boyfriend.

We hung out for a while and then left to go to the bus. James walked me there. And then bus proceeded not to show up for almost a half an hour. I was very frustrated. Because it was supposed to be there at 9: 30 but it didn't come until almost 9:50. And we had been there since 920. So I was very stressed out and I hate being late!! I texted Tiffany and let her know and I was just very distressed.

I was about 15 minutes late in the end. Sucks. I'm going to try to get an earlier bus tomorrow. So even if it runs late I will hopefully have the same issue. Because seriously we were three blocks away from access art and our bus driver saw someone on the street that he knew and he park the bus and got off to go have a conversation with him. I was losing my mind.

But I got there and everyone was fine. We're just lesson planning so it wasn't like I was missing anything yet but I hate being late. We all kind of bullshitted and talked for a little bit and then the teacher from holistic Life Center came.

He was a really nice guy. He told really funny stories and he was young and covered in tattoos and wearing a Orioles yoga shirt. He mostly talked about mindfulness. A little bit of yoga. And we learned a lot about breathing exercises. I felt very Vindicated and validated about the types of breathing exercises I already do with the kids when they're upset or hurt. But I learned some really interesting ones today. Specifically that I breathe wrong and I'm trying to retrain myself but it's very hard. It was very enjoyable even though I hated sitting in the folding chairs for that long. My feet don't reach the ground and it's uncomfortable.

But we also played a couple mindfulness games at the end of that was cool. Stuff that we can use in the classroom and it's awesome. I'm really glad that we were able to do that.

We had a late lunch. Marcus went down the street and got me a spring roll. Was very good. And I worked on my lesson plan. Almost out. I think I'll probably end up finishing it tomorrow. And then I'll go back in and make sure it's all good. I also think I want to use a couple other visual things for the classroom. And maybe add some tutorial images of some kind. We have tomorrow and Friday to finish lesson plans. And even with my brain breaks where I sketched tattoo ideas I still got a lot done.

While I was taking a break on my lesson plan I was looking at eBay and I got a crazy good deal on a Furby buddy. Something that I've been trying to get for 2 months now there's a little plush versions of the Furbies. I don't absolutely love them but people use them to make the long Furbies. And I'd like to try my hand at that. And I got one for $5. Usually they go for $35 to $40. I am very excited. I think I'm going to use it slightly as part of my example for my quilt making lesson. I'm going to make its belly pattern based off of Victorian crazy quilts. I'm very excited.

At 3 we finished up. We all decided on which weeks we should be teaching our lessons and when. Was decided that my quilt project would go first which makes me slightly nervous but it's probably a good idea. Because it's community building project we're going to kind of have all the kids get out there art things right away before they jump into other projects and I think that will work out nicely.

And then me and fitsum went home. His driving kind of makes me nauseous. Lot of fast speed up and then stopping. But we had a nice conversation about capitalism and its downfalls. And talked about apartments because he's moving as well. We saw a couple meet cars that we pointed out and talked about. It was a good time.

He dropped me off and I made some food. Did a couple packing things. Made a pile of the furniture and getting rid of. And just kind of hung out. Me and James were going to have dinner together but I kind of just wanted to be by myself a little bit. My dad's going to come visit this weekend and he's going to take the bed. So really these are the last couple days I'm ever going to live alone if all goes according to plan. And it feels very strange. I've lived alone for a long time. But I am excited. Nervous but excited.

I was just kind of chilling. Even though it was too humid in here to call it chilling. Playing Animal Crossing and watching videos. And then I decided to go check the mail.

I was excited because I had a package. But then I saw that there was a letter in there as well from the Minneapolis Apartment project. Which means it's from the class action settlement. Which means it's a check. When we won the settlement last year they said that we would get all of our rent back. But of course it was going to go into appeals. So we would probably just get a portion of our rent back. And honestly getting any amount of money from living in those apartments would be fine. But I was so nervous about opening this check. So he opened my package first. And it was socks! very exciting. I was looking forward to those socks. They're black and they have little hearts on them.

But I couldn't put off opening the check any longer. And I did and if I did my math right I thought about nine months worth of rent back. And the checks that this might not be the only check. That I might get more? Like after all the lawyers and fees are paid if there's anything left over there going to send another check. That's wild. And like all of my money stress. The $40 me and James got scammed out of the other day. James his bike breaking. Moving. All of it. This kind of feels like a buffer. We don't have to worry about it now. Least for a while. And I'm making more money and if he gets this job he's going to be at making more money. And even if he doesn't get this job he's going to keep looking until he does get something good. Don't have to be so stressed out and nickel-and-diming ourselves all the time. it's exciting. It feels Like the universe is telling me everything's going to be okay. That means using my white privilege to help make the lives of my neighbors and Minneapolis better is being rewarded. And that sometimes being a good person and trying to help other people does pay off in the end. And sometimes in cash.

I kind of didn't know what to say when I open the check. So I called James and let him know. And then I called my dad. We talked about taxes and he's going to check with the tax lady to make sure that I have put enough aside next year. I don't want to have an issue. But yeah it's exciting. And it was good to hear dad. He sounds a lot better. And he's looking forward to coming on Sunday and I'm looking forward to having him here. We're going to patch holes but hopefully we'll also do something else. Maybe we'll eat some good food and maybe we'll go see something interesting. Unsure of what yet but I'll figure that out.

I called Jess next to let her know. And she was very excited for me. And then I went back to packing. I brought more stuff from the basement. I broke down all of my Furby boxes. I don't know why I'm keeping them but it feels weird to throw them away. So flat in the Middle East to put them in storage. And I use the box that I have been storing them in to put kitchen stuff in. Paper towels and Ziploc bags. That one bottle of alcohol I always have. And then I took a shower. I painted my toenails and I'm just watching videos and enjoying my night.

Back to lesson planning tomorrow. And then I think falafels with James. No matter what it's going to be a good day. I can feel it. Hope you all have a good night tonight. Be kind to each other. Go out of your way for someone else. Don't expect anything in return. Good night

[ecofinisher]

Next Step - RollanxGerda oneshot

I don't know what to do, so I decided to write this as a one-shot :3 As most of you on Instagram see, I have the ultimate obsession with Rollan and Gerda, it nearly kills me at some point :D Nah literally, that one last time I had to spend time watching AMV's I literally had heart issues just from seeing their romance scenes. Even writing this AN here is making me crazy. Okay, here we go.

Additional note: Both characters are 20+

Fic inspired by this image (Actually the colored version, but I can't find the link to it -_- ) and my obsessed brain.

In a restaurant in the inner part of King Harald's kingdom, several couples and some small families sat in there to have dinner served. Major parts of the guests had already received their main menu, including our main characters Gerda and Rollan. Gerda was dressed in her usual clothing which consisted of a light beige skirt, a blouse with emerald-green buttons, and a dark brown sleeveless vest. Rollan came dressed up differently than he usually would, by wearing a fully white shirt and black pants. Both love interests had as their main dish beef stroganoff, mostly it was recognized on Gerda's dish since Rollan seemed to have a higher appetite due to his plate being nearly finished fast.

„It's been almost five months since we've gone out for dinner together," Gerda mentioned. „I've been really enjoying the evening here with you,"

„I'm glad you're liking it so far," Rollan responded, then looked along with his girlfriend at the end of the restaurant, where a woman stood singing and a few other adults were playing on instruments, ensuring a good atmosphere. „I like how the atmosphere here is so calm and sweet. Mostly with their music,"

„That's so far the only restaurant I've seen so far with music accompanying us guests. That's probably another thing why this is a little expensive than the others we know," Commented Gerda. „I almost feel bad to be here," Admitted the blonde, then Rollan placed his hand on Gerda's hand and shook his head. „You don't have to. I made sure we could afford it,"

„Okay, that sounds relieving," Gerda confirmed using her fork to roll up a bit of pasta and take it into her mouth. „How was your week?"

„It was fine," Responded Rollan. „I had to accompany classes on Wednesday and Thursday over the half of the day as they were seeing the palace from the inside and outside. Two of those classes had some class clowns, which wanted to cause a mess and I had to stay on watch for them as well when the teacher wasn't aware of it. On Tuesday I've spent half of the morning taking care of the royal horses so that in the evening we could go out with them for a check-up and be able to continue our task with them the next days. There wasn't anything dangerous or bad, where I and others would have the need to interfere…..and I saw you yesterday on the morning during the ride out, remember?"

„Oh yes, if Freya didn't have mentioned it, I would have missed you," Gerda commented making Rollan chuckle.

„I would have at least greeted you or something. You know that,"

„I do and I enjoy your little visits," The girl admitted taking another bite of her plate slowly finishing her dish. „Talking about visits, my dad's birthday will be in a few weeks and I've been thinking along with Kai to make him a surprise party at Alfida's ship. Kai had some funny ideas for games all could play along to pass the time. Do you think you can come with us to the party?"

„At what time is it?" Questioned Rollan. „I've got a few days, I've been longer at work because of special occasions,"

„7 pm " Replied Gerda. „But if you're not able to come it's alright. My parents haven't seen you quite often and it would be good you three would be able to get to know each other better,"

„I think so far our relationship is fine I believe. Your parents don't treat me bad as Kai used to do once in a while after…...you know…...this with the wishing stone," Rollan whispered making Gerda nod.

„I know, but I'm referring to them knowing you in person more. They only know you through my eyes, not through their own I mean,"

„Okay, I will take a look at my plan and if there's a possibility to exchange a shift I'll do it, so we can go together to your parents,"

„Thank you, I know I could count on you," Gerda said making Rollan smile, then the waiter appeared to take their plates.

„Have you enjoyed your meal so far?" Questioned the waiter earning a nod from the couple.

„It was delicious," Gerda commented.

„The spice of the sauce was excellente. I enjoyed every bite of it,"

„May I offer you two a dessert. On Today's card, we've got Morozhenoe and we've got a variety of toppings for it, which you can choose. Nuts, chocolate, and berries," The waiter explained. „Does any of this please you?"

„The one with the berries sound appealing to me," Commented Gerda making Rollan nod.

„If possible I'd like the one with nuts," Rollan added earning a nod from the waiter and he picked up the used plates and cutlery to move away. Gerda and Rollan glanced together at the band singing, then Gerda sighed at how harmonic the singer was in sync with one cello player, which stood behind her playing the instrument.

„Their voices do really match well with the other," Commented the Spaniard, then moved his hands above the table to reach to Gerda and grabbed it to earn her attention. „Are you looking forward to pass by the stable and take a ride around the kingdom?" Rollan offered making Gerda shrug her shoulders.

„Are you sure you don't need Valiente tomorrow fully rested?" Questioned Gerda.

„Tomorrow I'll be at the castle the entire day again. I may pass in the afternoon again to feed him or to let him walk," Rollan mentioned. „I think Eriksson will be there as well, because of the cleaning duty he has tomorrow and could as well take care of him and the others. I don't know it yet,"

„Okay I'd love to go with you out if it's possible," Gerda responded making Rollan smile. „Where have you planned to walk us?"

„I haven't planned anything. I thought we could decide it during the ride or just let Valiente go on his own,"

„We'll see about that," Gerda replied, then Rollan lied Gerda's hand back down on the table and looked around the restaurant to observe the surroundings, then he pulled his collar a little nervous.

„Dónde está?" Rollan mumbled, then Gerda glimpsed at the man's comment.

„What are you asking?"

„I….uh was wondering where my…...medal of honor went, but it's actually here," Rollan made up making Gerda snicker.

„Why did you even stick your medal on your shirt for our date?" Questioned Gerda. „You don't need to do that, just because of me,"

„It's a habit of me," Rollan confessed. „I like to have them with me,"

„That's fine, I just had the impression you seemed nervous about something,"

„It will get solved, don't worry," Rollan stated earning a nod from the girlfriend. „Hopefully," He said quieter, then Gerda who still heard the rest of Rollan's phrase gazed back at her boyfriend to see him stare at the door, then Gerda moved her chair a little further and grabbed Rollan's hand, then gazed at his face a little worried.

„Rollan, are you hiding something, you don't want to tell me?" Questioned Gerda making Rollan shrug his shoulders.

„Uh just give me five more minutes," Rollan commented with an embarrassed grin, then heard the door getting opened up from the entrance, where a young boy showed up, making Rollan sigh in relief and Gerda smiled at seeing the young boy.

„Who is that boy?" Asked Gerda looking at Rollan, which shrugged his shoulders, then the boy approached their table and took from the inside of his jacket a small book and opened it up to take out a pen with a silver ring attached on the hold.

„Hello…..You're G….Gerda, right?" Questioned the boy making the woman nod.

„Yes," Responded Gerda exchanging looks with her boyfriend, which smiled at the woman warmly. „Who are you?"

„I'm Lars," Responded the boy. „I'm a big fan of you and your brother Kai…...Rollan promised me he would find a way to make me meet you," Explained the kid.

„Oh and that now?" Questioned Gerda looking at Rollan, which rolled his eyes at the kid and back at the blonde and Gerda kept her eyes on the boy, which showed her the book with the pen.

„I just want your autograph, that's all I need," Lars said looking at Rollan, which nodded, then Gerda looked at Rollan, which noticed Gerda's eyes and faked a smile at the girlfriend.

„Uh was it a bad idea to bring him here?" Asked Rollan making Gerda shake her head and grab the pencil to sign her name on it.

„It was fine. I was just surprised," Gerda commented, then placed the pencil back on the book. „There you go, little boy,"

„Thank you very much, Gerda," The boy thanked, then gave Gerda a hug making her and Rollan smile, then the boy dropped the book on the ground in front of Rollan's feet, then the boy took his arms off Gerda and grabbed the book.

„I'm glad I was able to help you out, Lars," Rollan said with a wink, then the boy waved at Rollan and ran away to the exit and Gerda spotted the pen of the boy on the ground, then shrieked along with Rollan.

„Hey Lars, you forgot your pen!" Gerda warned picking the pen up, then saw the boy had left the restaurant, afterward, Gerda sat back on the chair with the pen in her hand. „He may come back to get it,"

„Maybe," Rollan responded a little relieved, then moved his hand at the pen. „Or I will bring it back to him. I know, where he is from," Rollan commented watching Gerda show him the pen, then Rollan reached his hand at the pen and Gerda squinted her eyes and took the pen down to see the ring on the pen.

„Hey for what is this ring on here?" Gerda asked watching Rollan grab the pen.

„You know those are new variants," Rollan commented holding the pen under the table, then tried to remove the ring from it. „You know…..they have a unique way of use," Rollan commented. „Want to know how it works?" Questioned Rollan making Gerda nod.

„Why not?" Responded Gerda, then Rollan got up and stood in front of the blonde and with his left hand closed into a fist and he bends down on his right knee and positions his left leg behind, then placed his hands together and used his right hand to take out the ring from his other fist and held the ring up at the blonde woman.

„Gerda I…..I've been thinking this entire year for the moment I would ask you this question. I didn't know how I should do it or where I should do it and this option occurred to me a few days ago and I thought that's the moment Rollan. You're just chickening it out the entire time out of fear. Just do it, it will go fine. Lars there, he's actually Hansel's son from the theatre. I offered him a bit of money, so he would play as a fanboy and ask you for an autograph, but in reality, we made this up, so I would obtain the ring in a way you wouldn't notice…..or you weren't supposed to notice it," Rollan explained making Gerda smile enchanted at Rollan's explanation, then Rollan smiled a little and noticed Gerda chuckle a little.

„What's your question?"

„Gerda…..after we got together and we began to see each other, I felt like my life finally began to have a meaning for me. You made me feel like the happiest man in this kingdom. I'm certain that our love will hold on for eternity and that we complete each other. I…..you mean the world to me, Gerda. I may not be able to make a lot of money with the job I have to provide us a better life than we have now, but I'm able to do anything to make you happy…...Will you take me as your l...life partner?" Proposed the raven-haired man looking up at Gerda, which had gotten emotional at Rollan's question, and held her hands in front of her face to clean her face. Rollan smiled at Gerda's reaction, then he moved his free hand to Gerda's face to clean tears coming down from her eyes and waited for her to be ready to answer his question. Gerda passed her hand under her eyes again, then she leaped onto Rollan's arms to hug her boyfriend tight, leaning her head beside his neck making him beam and place his arms around her.

„Yes Rollan, yes I do," Gerda responded, then she got off Rollan's arms and held out her hand, so the man would take her hand and place the engagement ring on her ring finger, which consisted of a light-blue stone on the middle of the silver-colored ring. Rollan held Gerda's hand to look at her engagement ring, then rolled his eyes up at her seeing the woman biting her lip, still excited about what had happened, then he opened up his arms at the woman and she got into Rollan's arms again, therefore the duo earned the applause of the guests inside the restaurant which made Rollan feel embarrassed. Gerda felt as well abashed at the people's reaction towards their step and she gazed back at Rollan, which smiled charmed at the woman after that she wrapped her arms up around his neck, locking up her lips with his sealing together their agreement on taking a further step in their relationship.

The End.