#you can be a good person making horrible mistakes and things

[floweringlino]

Macarons and kisses | L.F

𝙎𝙮𝙣𝙤𝙥𝙨𝙞𝙨 ; in which wherever she goes, he goes and the other way around.

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 ; pastry chef!Felix x Pastrychef!fem!reader

𝙉𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨 ; fluff, tinie tiny bit angst, mentions of food, bullying by boss, crying, mention of alcohol, slightly suggestive near the end.

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 ; 2.3k

The gods menu masterlist

✎ ❀

“Y/N, how is the mise en place for tonight looking?” Her friend questioned her.

“Don’t you worry about me, Lix. Worry about that Gumbo thats burning on the stove.

He hurried away to continue his family meal for the rest of their colleagues, Stirring the stew.

Three years of culinary school, two years of training with the best pastry chefs that were around the world. Paris, Copenhagen and Brussels were the places she had trained and all of them took a lot from her. It was hard but it made her who she was and it got her to where she was today.

She knew what she was doing, maybe she was rhetorical best around. The only person that could challenge her in her ability's was Felix. The two of them had gone through a lot in the past, from starting school together to the job they were today. Y/n had followed Felix to the two star michelin restaurant they worked at the present day.

She liked her colleagues. Felix and her had made the pastry their own and powered through the short and difficult days. Hyunjin had also become a good friend of hers and that made her rough days there better.

There was only reason why the days were so bad to start with. Her only problem with this team was the chef. Never in her short but eventful carrier, she had even met a man like him. A man so pathetic, so mean and so heartless. He made her days horrible until the point she cried her way home. But that was the job she thought.

Not every experience is supposed to be a good one.

"Corner." She told her colleagues before making her way across the corner. She said a couple of behinds while passing her friends and made her way to the kitchenaid that was whisking the eggwhites.

Very slowly she poured the sugar water while the whisk was doing its thing. As the mixture started taking the texture that she needed a confident smile appeared on het lips.

"Y/L/N, you better not mess up those macarons, I might actually kill you."

And with that the smile fell again.

"Little does he know you never mess up your macarons." Felix bumped her shoulder a little bit to make her smile again.

"I don't do mess ups. Especially not here.”

"Everybody makes mistakes babes." He reminded her.

"Calm down Hannah Montana. I wanna live out this job before he kills me." She looked up at her best friend while still doing her work. So familiar with the recipe she didn't even need to look.

Felix was also already looking at her. It made her giggle so he felt like he accomplished his mission. The look he gave her was one of pure admiration. They both did the same thing but she did it with so much passion.

"Stop looking at me." She blushed and looked away, hoping he hadn't seen it. But someone had.

"Im sorry. Ill stop. Finish those and help me with family meal?" She nodded in response and watched him walk away to the stove where he had a stew cooking for dinner.

After a little while she left her macarons to rest for a little bit as the shiny layer needed to turn matte before pushing them into the oven. Leaving them alone she made her way over to her Friend.

"What can I help you with, Lix?" He turned around from his conversation with Hyunjin and stood next to her over the stew.

"Can you cut the okra, chorizo and the green onion? I want to add it last so that it stays crunchy at the end." She nodded in response and made a station next to Hyunjin. As she did the stuff Felix had asked her to do, Hyunjin poked her in her side to get her attention from her. To keep him annoyed a little bit she waiting with responding until he yelled.

"Yah! I wanna talk to you. Talk to meee! Im bored."

"Whats up Jinnie. How are we feeling?"

"Keep this a secret okay?" She nodded in response as a promise to keep his secret.

"Im kind of thinking of quitting." She was shocked, thinking she was the only one with a problem with Chef.

"And why would you? I respect your decision, obviously. Honestly same. But im confused. I thought you liked it here?"

"I do like it here. But something doesn't feel right. I don't know how to explain it to you."

✎ ❀

It was 12.00 at night when y/n was called into chefs office. Dinner service had just ended and the kitchen staff was done cleaning. Making their was over to the dressing rooms he picked her from the crowd. And the guys could follow the entire conversation through the walls.

"Y/n I called you here because there are some things in your behaviour that are just unacceptable and you need to change some things."

"Im sorry sir, what exactly are you talking about?"

Im talking about the fact that you are here to work. Not flirt with your colleagues." He said it with such a stern look on his fave that she had no idea if he was kidding or not.

"Im sorry?"

"Y/n, im gonna get straight to the point. So far you have disappointed me in your abilities and have shown me nothing that you can be proud of. We, the guys and me feel like you spend more time flirting with Felix than actually doing your job, and today I also saw you with Hyunjin. Leave the boys alone or im going to have to fire you."

"Sir im gonna tell you something and you might not like it, but this company that you try to run? It sucks. You're not gonna have to fire me because I quit affective immediately. You can keep my last paycheque and shove it up a place where the sun doesn't shine. I hope you lose your staff and those stupid stars you worked so hard for."

"Leave my office now."

"Already leaving. And if I were you, I'd start working on the rat problem you have. It would be a shame if someone saw one and made an anonymous complaint with the health department."

She slammed the door closed behind her, rushed her way past her colleagues with her hand in the air as in a motion for them to not touch her and when Felix tried to grab her hand she shook it away. Not wanting anything to do with him at this moment.

It took all of them a moment to realise what just actually happened and as soon as it was processed, Felix stepped into the office, Hyunjin following him closely.

Not a single tear was waisted on that pathetic excuse of a leader on her drive home. She couldn't help but laugh a little bit mixed with the anger she had let out. It had been building up for a while and now that it was all let out she felt sooo much better.

She didn't even worry about her job, she could easily get another one. Another thought crossed her minds but quickly pushed it away.

Sitting down on her couch she let herself sink in and enjoy the weight that had dropped off her shoulders.

Walking to her kitchen she grabbed a bottle of wine and poured herself a glass. After that she changed into her pyjamas and sat back down on the comfortabel couch, not planning to get up again.

What would she do. There were about twelve job offers she could consider but was that really what she wanted. Was this where she wanted to take her talent. Her mind wondered to a new place, her place. She had an investor that would be interested in her doing this so realistically it would work. But what that something she was ready for.

A knock on her door interrupted her thought. She groaned out of frustration not wanting to get off of the couch. She waited 10 seconds before opening her front door.

Standing in front of her in all of his glory was Felix. His now long blond hair was a bit wet from the light rain outside. He only smiled at her, opening his arms for a hug which she gladly accepted.

She found comfort in his arms and it eased her mind. His hand held she back of her neck closer to him and they just stood there for a minute before letting go and coming back inside. Without talking they sat down on the couch. She sat between his legs and halfway layed on his chest.

"What happened after I left?" She questioned, taking his hand in hers and playing with his fingers.

A chuckle left his mouth.

"We quit, Hyunjin and I. We talked about it before but this was the last push we needed."

"Lix! Why did you quit? You kinda need a job." She couldn't help but laugh a little bit at what he said.

"And you should know better. Where you go. I go. I moved to Denmark with you remember?. We'll have to tell our next job that we're a package deal." He winked at her when she looked up at and stared at his eyes.

"Lix, what if we didn't search for a new job?" She questioned him, sitting back up and turning to face him a little bit more. His face read confusion.

"What do you mean, love?"

"What if, we finally called back those investors and opened our own place?" Her eyes held hope. Hoping he would say yes. They had talked about it before, but now it was serious. She ment it this time.

She tried to read his face but there were so many emotions to notice. God, she hoped he would say yes. She didn't really know what else to do. Finally when his mouth turned into a smile he responded.

"Let's do this." He grinned at her and she threw her arms tightly around his neck.

"You sure?" She needed to ask him, maybe he felt like he was pressured.

"I thought about it, and I think we can do this. It may even be the next step for us." He gleamed at the idea now. It would be their place instead of only hers, where he would work. Both of them would be owners.

"Let's look at our old Pinterest boards!" She exclaimed excitedly, dragging her laptop to her lap, laying back against Felix his chest. He pushed her back for a second to stand up. He missed her warmth immediately but if she was gonna drink wine, so was he. Grabbing himself a glass and taking the rest of the full bottle with him he sat back on the back and let her rest against him again.

This time she pulled a blanket across their laps and comfortably sat on the couch, just talking through their ideas.

Pastry's, cookies, pie's, cakes, chocolates

Felix would do the chocolates because Y/N hated temping the mass. Absolutely hated it. She made Felix do it on her final assignment and she finished it with an 8. But it was fine cuz he made her make his Sabayon.

It now was 4 in the morning and Y/N was talking through the paint options, Felix was too distracted to listen to her talking. His eyes watched her lips move and he did hear her voice. But all he could think about was how beautiful she looked. So passionate she glowed with love.

He wanted to kiss her but her back was still resting on his chest. And the fact she was just his best friend. They had finished the wine long ago and he definitely wasn't drunk. He knew what he wanted, had wanted since they first met.

His point finger traced her jawline and cheek and she pressed into his touch, wanting more. His stare at her was intense as he traced his finger across her bottom lip. Against his chest he felt her heart skip a beat. Scared he had gone to far he pulled his hand away but was stopped when it was dragged back.

Fuck it he was gonna do this. His hand pulled her chin in his direction, turning her face his way. When their eyes looked it was pure love they both say, and without thinking he grabbed the back of her neck and her jaw and pressed his lips to her.

She didn't even need to think and eased into the loving kiss. She had wanted this for so long but was scared of what it would do to their friendship.

The kiss was intense but long awaited. In the kiss she turned around so she could sit in his lap the other way around now wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms wrapped around his neck pulling him even closer.

His hands slid to her back, underneath her pyjame. A soft moan from her, made him insert his tongue into her mouth, making the  kiss even deeper than it already was.

"God you're so beautiful." He whispered against her lips and he felt her smile against his.

"I can do this all day." He said again continuing the make-out in the couch. She fully sat on his lap, softly grinding against him, making him groan from the friction of the jeans against him.

"Then do me all day." She grinned and with that he lifted her from the couch, guiding hee to her own bedroom, where the night didn't end till the sun began to rise again

[circinuus]

OLD PENACONY SPOILERS////

TW graphic violence/gore

wait wait wait wait omg!!!!! like minded minds!!!! im so in love with you!!!!!!!!!! i have similar premises brewing in my (long abandoned) draft. re zero aus are sooo bangers you're so right. aha is always the bastard™ I agree. in my vision aha is also being extra and so theatrical about it (probably saw what the stellaron hunters do and went "hey you know what? I want to do that too!) then proceeds to yoink reader to the universe. reader is now given a "role" (for aha's giggles and all). the tomfoolery includes return by death AND these vague visions funky scary things appearing only in reader's eyes; allegedly aha's "scripts". this includes red glaring texts only visible to reader's eyes (like remember that part in the penacony quest? with the funky red hovering texts?). some texts can be as silly as "heehee! this creature is cute!" hovering over some dead dreamjolt troupe.

other texts can be things like, "oooh!! this one is going to die! die! die!" over firefly's head when you and TB get to the dreamscape hotel lobby with Acheron and black swan (iykyk). but if reader's about to say anything about their predicament, knowledge about the future, or impulsively help or say what they read out loud, reader will "die" one way or another like how subaru does if he says anything about his return by death.

like... exploding-eyes kind of horrible things (walk with me, I was obsessed with SAO alicization too back then). i saw how sparkle likes to stoke trouble just to see how it turns out and how people react, so... I'd expect the aeon who blew up AE and made a worm as their emanator will be more silly goofy coocoo.

ALSO!!!! miss ana I would like to propose that it's all the more reason for aha to do all this re zero messy shenanigans because look at this silly thing I found in the wiki about Masked Fools:

they laugh at heroes for self-righteousness;

you'll eventually get attached and do stupid things to save one of your kind. Even more so, developing some kind of hero-complex like how subaru did. that's beautifully amusing.

kings for their lust of power;

what person doesn't want to try to act god after given "visions", and "second chances"? maybe you can save everyone

lovers for their infatuation

it will be delightfully amusing if you grow infatuated or attached. but I'm going to trust and blame it on aha that they'll giggle when you pine for someone, but you're hesitant in being close because you don't know what's going to happen to him and you if you show obvious favor at the person. and if someone realises your plight, like how sunday starts to notice, aha will just send forth those tragedies like how ana mentioned.... look.... I agree wholeheartedly aha is a little shit™ like that. like the kind of fanfiction reader who likes angst and will only be satisfied of a good ending after the main couple suffers through 800 years of love tragedy and tribulations (aha just like me fr).

and scholars for their overthinking.

The whole point! The stress must be getting to you? Is it? Do you feel the pain behind your eyes? Like it'll burst like colorful balloons and confetti! What if you die again? Do you fear it? What do you think will happen if you make another mistake? Or if you fail? Will it be permanent? What is even the other unknown mistake? How exciting!

"It would be a welcome sight if someone could turn the tables on them."

💀

I have a fic idea, stay with me on this one folks.

I'm a massive Re Zero girlie and I always really liked how Return by Death was handled in the series. I'm also a massive Sunday girlie and the man is in my head rent free 25/8, so I've come up with a half baked idea which I find highly entertaining, but it still needs a lot of work. Here is the gist of it:

The premise is that you, the reader, get summoned to the world of Honkai Star Rail by the Aeon of Elation, Aha. Aha randomly picked a target from our world to torment and gave you the ability Return by Death simply because it wanted to.

In case you do not know, Return by Death allows your soul to travel the river of time backwards to a save point that Subaru (in this case you, the reader) and/or the witch of envy (in this case Aha) deem safe and/or useful. Now, I figured that the Astral Express would end up picking you up along the way but Aha keeps killing you over and over again just for fun. Aha might also wish to mess with other worlds or the people you've started to care for in this universe, which in prompt forces you to kill yourself in order to save your friends from certain doom, forcing you to start from scratch all over again.

I was thinking that Sunday would have something of a cheat code to eventually realize that something is wrong due to his tuning ability. Across your journey you end up developing feelings for Sunday and the feeling would become mutual, but tragedy keeps striking over and over and over again, always dooming someone to die.

Other characters that I'm thinking who would figure out that something was wrong or not right with you would be Welt, Acheron and Sparkle. Honorable mention to Sampo too.

Again, this idea is barely half baked and I basically just stole the plot of Re Zero and applied it to Honkai Star Rail LMAO. I did not intend this fic to be yandere and if I ever did write it, I wanted to do it on my side blog because this main one is only for dark content.

If anyone has any ideas, suggestions or comments, please share them with me. I find this idea to be incredibly entertaining but it would take me a while to actually start the fic. I'd like to at least finish the 2.7 story (at the time of writing this, that patch is not out yet) and maybe work out some kinks here and there.

Thank you for going through this silly idea of mine, mwah mwah ❤️

[orcelito]

Don't know whether it's a product of my upbringing or just part of who I am, but I really do tend to shrug off things that seem to send others into massive guilt spirals. Like, what's the point? Either you meant to do it or you didn't. If you meant to do it but regret it now, make what amends you can & resolve to do better, then move on. If you didn't mean to, be honest about it, apologize if need be, & try to do better. Then move on.

Beating yourself up truly serves no purpose. What are we, catholic? If there is a god, I truly don't think they'd care, anyways

[adore-gregor]

:)

[forgottencassandra]

Cassandra found her heart sink at his words. She could imagine very well the lord she looked upon with the greatest admiration. Cormac Calleary had heard her speak many times of Lord Ormond -- there could be no mistake in whom he meant.

Imagine him lost to you.

"Oh, Cormac!" She cried, feeling as though she might cry at any moment, but resolved not to. It would not do to cry here. She would cry later, when she was alone -- perhaps as she gazed longingly from her window as the sun set?

For now, she would heed her friend's words and be brave.

"I will not ask you to break your confidence, but -- oh -- can you not tell me: who is the lady?" She asked, desperately. Had it been Roision, she was certain that she would have known. But who else had managed to catch Lord Cillian's eye? Had she been so blind by her own affections that she did not notice that his were otherwise engaged? It was hard for her to believe herself so horribly mistaken. Had he not flirted so with her? How could he have done such a thing if he meant to make another woman his wife?

"How long has this union been planned?" She found herself asking. Had it been long before they had met? Whether it had been from infancy or a presumed love match, perhaps she might have still won his heart. But were they to so tragically be torn apart?

Cassandra had secretly hoped for some other little drama to befall them before they would one day be married, and while images of Cillian leaving his betrothed at the altar to rush to be by her side, instead, made her heart swoon, there was part of her that wondered if he he would -- or could -- do such a thing. She must learn more about the conditions of this engagement. Until she did, she would worry that she might loose Lord Ormond forever. And she had no desire to end a tragic figure.

"Oh! How can you speak of samite at a time like this!" Cassandra cried. It was then that she knew she was truly distraught. Such a thing would have earned Cormac Cassandra's every sympathy on any other occasion, but today she cared nothing for it.

She hardly heard what he said afterwards, her mind too focused on the important matter at hand, when she was suddenly drawn from her ruminations by Lord Calleary holding back tears as he described the horrors of living through the night the convicts escaped into the lands where he now lived.

"Oh, Lord Calleary! I am terribly sorry for forcing you to dwell on such an awful time for you. Did you see them? The men who had escaped?" She offered him her own handkerchief, afraid that he would begin to weep right then and there. She was truly sorry for him -- he seemed terrified, poor soul -- but Cassandra was interested in the events that had surrounded that evening.

Part of her had even wished she had been caught up in it all. How could Lord Ormond even think of marrying another woman when her own life would have been at stake? Wouldn't he have dropped everything to make his attempts to rescue her?

"Oh, goodness!" Cassandra cried, clasping her hands as Cormac described the man who haunted the woods of Malconaire. "I had no idea that there was such a person! I am surprised that Lady Roisin had not thought to warn me, as we have ventured into those very woods on our own. Do you suppose she may not know of him?" Lord Calleary may be doing his very best to dissuade Cassandra from wishing to involve herself in dangerous situations, but between the heightened security and general lack of freedom she had experienced over these last few weeks and the new information that Lord Ormond was engaged, Cassandra found herself wishing for this very sort of excitement that seemed to terrify him so.

Time for Tea | Cassandra & Cormac

The Emperor had gathered all of the Astairan lords and stewards to his palace to discuss the continued efforts to locate the men who had escaped their executions. There would be more security added to their borders and their ports to stop any further escape attempts that would be made.

Cassandra didn't know all of the details -- nor did she feel the need to inquire further -- but when she heard that Cormac Calleary was to be at the palace, she extended an invitation to him to join her for tea in the gardens before he returned home.

"I cannot tell you have terrible it has all been for me, Lord Calleary, not being able to see anybody or do anything! I am so pleased that you are here. Goodness, it must be nearly a week since I have seen anybody and I hope you have some gossip to bring me?"

She sighed, stirring her spoon round in her cup rather absentmindedly, "I know it is only for my own safety that my father has refused to let me leave, but really I still feel as though it is terribly cruel to do so. And all because a few outlaws have escaped the noose? Tell me, Lord Calleary, do you not think him simply an overprotective father? I am certain that I should be very well protected and ... even if something should happen, I can't imagine that they would harm a hair upon my head. And it would be no time at all until I was rescued. Besides, when our own cousin was taken captive, she was returned unharmed."

She imagined that Lord Ormond, himself, might rescue her if she was ever kidnapped. Cassandra imagined that he would have stormed off the moment he heard that she was missing and it was such a lovely daydream to imagine him fighting off outlaws in order to save her, that she could have easily been lost in it for hours on end -- if this had not been the first time she had had any company outside her own family for days.

"It is much more exciting to be locked away at an outlaw camp than to be locked away here. Don't you think?"

[alma-artts]

My roman empire is how the majority of people misjudge every single gilmore girls character it angers me so much

[bloodstainsandconfetti]

I think it’s important that we talk about Swansea and how he’s VERY MUCH SO meant to be a foil to Jimmy.

While Swansea comes off as grouchy, abrasive, and stubborn, the biggest thing about his character is that he’s HONEST. Brutally so. Meanwhile, Jimmy basically lies through his teeth to both himself, and everyone else, from the first moment we meet his character.

Swansea comes off as stubborn, as if he doesn’t take his coworkers seriously, not because he genuinely looks down on them but because he doesn’t want them to get hurt. While he does see Daisuke as just this naive young adult, we learn in the execution scene that he doesn’t necessarily see that as a bad thing. He wants Daisuke to retain that light that he lost as grew to become grizzled and exploited.

Swansea knows he’s good at his job and so he TAKES RESPONSIBILITY by making sure HES the only one doing the dangerous work. Because he doesn’t WANT to push it onto someone else and get them hurt. Meanwhile, again, Jimmy basically manipulates Daisuke into sacrificing himself all so Jimmy can make sure Curly isn’t dead in medical. (While not even caring what Anya does to herself)

Daisuke is basically Swansea’s “Curly” if that makes sense. There are multiple lines of dialogue that hint to him saving the pod for him, to give him the best chance of survival. However, when he gets horrible injured in the vent, instead of FORCING HIM TO STAY ALIVE in tons of pain (like Jimmy did w/ Curly throughout the whole game) he ends his life BECAUSE he cares about how Daisuke feels and not just how HE feels. Cause we all know Jimmy keeps Curly alive for very selfish reasons.

After everything, Swansea is extremely honest about who he is. The type of person he was and is and could’ve been. The mistakes he’s made, the things he actually cares about, even if they’re flawed or unhealthy. Meanwhile, even then, Jimmy continues to deny what he is and what is intentions are and what he really wants. He CONTINUES to refuse to take any sort of responsibility even when Swansea says to his face that he already sees past it.

Swansea is basically the narrative opposite of Jimmy, while also, funnily enough, kinda being used as a red herring at first. I mean, he’s the fat angry alcoholic old guy who carries an axe everywhere so ofc you’d expect him to be the bad guy. The story even shows you him trying to kill Jimmy/the player without context, to further sort of bait ur expectations. When in reality, he’s the one who saw Jimmy for what he really was before anyone else really did.

[feybeasts]

Actually, adding onto that "not believing in redemptive justice is messed up" thought-

I think the disconnect people have there is thinking that when someone says "people can change for the better" or "even horrible people can be redeemed and can become better" that they mean "you have to Fix Bad People personally"

No. You don't.

You don't have to personally fix someone who is going down a bad path and acting like a jerk, you don't have to automatically forgive, you don't have to befriend them- you can cut someone out of your life wholly and still hope they get better, and feel relief if, somewhere down the line, they do. It is not shifting the onus of responsibility onto you personally when someone says "actually community and support can make people better even if they suck right now," nor is it victim-blaming; it's simply stating that hey, people can be really terrible and it's rarely because they're inherently awful people, but because they've been so warped by circumstances that may or may not be in their control, and it's both healthy and good to hope that things change for the better instead of thinking the only justice for people who wrong you or make any kind of mistake is death.

You don't have to fix people yourself. You don't need to include them in your life. But you shouldn't hold onto hatred for hatred's sake, because I promise you- doing that will quickly make you into a monster too.

[logansdoll]

thank you

you never thought you'd be murdered in the middle of an alley... but you also never thought you'd be saved by a man with knives in his fists so... yeah.

CW: suggestive, profanity, the dude that attacks you is clinically insane, Logan's a little socially awkward, your power is kinda bad but kinda good, etc.

It was amazing how quick your day could go from fantastic, to an absolute, fucking shit storm.

Waking up that morning, as you went through your morning routine, something in the air just told you that everything was going to go right.

Your curls turned out perfect after your nightly twist, your makeup flawless, accentuating your natural beauty, and your breakfast sandwich tasted especially delicious.

That, along with the relatively quiet day at the hospital, left you leaving work with a certain pep in your step that made you feel like you could take on anything.

So not once did you plan to end up in the middle of a dark alleyway, and not once did you plan to stand off with a shady, seemingly dangerous, man because of it.

You were too lost in the music of your earphones to notice you had taken a wrong turn, a rookie mistake to make so late at night.

A mistake you were currently cursing yourself for.

"Look," you started, hands up and voice calm in an attempt to placate the irritated man. "I didn't mean to walk over here. I'm just trying to get home."

Slowly, he stalked closer, stance low and beady eyes staring at you in a way that made your stomach drop, and blood run cold.

'Shit.'

"Please... I don't want any trouble," you continued, taking a few steps back, "Just let me pass."

He tutted in response, wagging his finger as a sadistic grin slowly rose to his lips, "People who trespass on my territory gotta pay a toll, sweetheart," he licked his teeth, words slurring together, "and I can see you got more than enough..."

Shamelessly, his eyes dragged over your body, the surface of your skin erupting with a feel of grime and dirt.

You'd need a serious shower when you got home.

If you made it home...

As he drew closer, your hand discreetly slid into your jean jacket pocket, latching onto the cool, metal handle of your switchblade.

You were hoping to de-escalate the situation, but with the way things were looking, you knew you'd probably have to fight your way out.

"I'm only gonna ask one more time," you warned, your tone curt as your expression sharpened into a glare. "Let me go."

Without warning, he let out a manic shout, charging for you at full force.

You let out a shriek of surprise, quickly moving out the way before he could tackle you, whipping your blade out your pocket and flicking it open in one fluid motion.

Quickly, he turned around, expression furious as he ran again, hands out in an attempt to grab you.

And as you tried to dodge, he managed to latch onto the back of your scrub, roughly throwing you to the ground with a grunt.

"Fuck!" you spat, head throbbing as you attempted to sit up, your chest pounding as he grabbed your ankles and dragged you closer.

Fear struck your heart like a freight train, and in a bout of panic, you swung your knife, plunging it into the closest thing you could reach.

He let out a roar of pain, dropping your ankles as he nursed his injured foot, and the handle sticking out of it would've been funny were it not for the dire situation.

Quickly, you scrambled to your feet, stumbling towards your purse which laid on the ground not too far away.

But the man took notice, his foot becoming a thing of the past as he chased you again, scooping up a large shard of broken glass as he ran.

"Get away!" you cried, hugging your purse into your chest as his charge backed you into a corner, your legs giving out as you slid down the wall.

Horrible visions of your fate flashed through your mind as he approached, images of your lifeless body plastered on the nightly news, or your smiling picture on a missing persons poster.

What a fabulous time for your power to chime in...

You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for whatever was to come, when a loud shink and a pained grunt cut through the air.

Forcing your eyes back open, they landed on a figure, who stood over the dead body of your attacker.

The way the man laid, and the way he was injured, made it look as if he was mauled by some sort of animal.

'Holy shit...'

Pulling yourself back to reality, you realized the figure was now standing right in front of you.

He held his hand out for you to take, sharp, brown eyes flicking between you expectantly.

Finally having the chance to get a good look at him, you took in his appearance.

With his broad chest and strong jaw, you'd think he'd be on the cover of Sexy Bikers weekly, arms and legs thick with muscle under his leather jacket and blue jeans.

Your eyes met in an instant, an electric buzz shooting up your spine at his features.

From what you could see through the darkness, they were sharp, but strong and hard, handsome in their own rugged way.

His lips pulled taut in a line as he stared back, brows furrowing while his eyes flicked around you, almost like he was trying to gauge your reaction.

Slowly, you placed your hand in his allowing him to pull you up to your feet.

"Thank you," you exhaled, shoulders dropping as relief finally sank in your shoulders. "I don't know what I would've done if you didn't come when you did..."

His arms came back to his sides, tiredly, as he awkwardly cleared his throat.

As if he didn't expect you to actually talk to him...

"What're you doin' walkin' by yourself so late?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble. "You got a death wish?"

The sound ignited something in you, a sudden flood of warmth rushing to your stomach, your reply nearly dying in your throat.

"I just got off from work... I wasn't paying attention and turned the wrong corner," you explained, choppily, the embarrassment of your mistake setting in.

It was a stupid one.

Especially for someone who's mutation gave her the ability to see the future.

Or variations of it, at least.

"You got a way to get home?" he asked, resting a hand on his hips.

His arms flexed with the motion, his bicep straining against the jacket sleeve, your eyes drawn to it almost instantly.

You'd never seen a man as handsome as him before, and while you felt bad for gawking, you were more concerned by the flurry of feelings swirling in your chest.

"Cab," you blurted, snapping yourself out of it, "I can hail a cab."

He nodded, smoothly and, to your surprise, silently, stepping to the side and out of your way.

You were ready to head back toward the street, when you suddenly remembered something.

"My purse—" Jittery, the man nervously shoved it into your arms, averting his eyes from your thankful expression.

Your gorgeous, thankful expression.

God, he didn't understand what such a beautiful woman like you was doing in a place like this.

"I found it on the ground over there," he cleared his throat once again, shifting his weight on his feet, "I put your knife back in, too. You might wanna wash it—"

Without warning, you pulled him into a hug, nearly sending his heart into a frenzy.

He kept his hands up, quite confused and unsure of what to do, especially since your impossibly soft cheek was pressed against his chest.

"Thank you... really," you smiled, warmly, as you looked up at him.

God, he was handsome.

Though, you pushed that thought to the back of your mind.

"It was nothin'," he assured, awkwardly, as you backed out.

"I don't suppose I could learn your name, could I?" you asked, a small smile rising to your lips at his social graces.

It was adorable.

Someone so big and strong being so nervous.

Instantly, he tensed, completely taken aback by your bold comment.

Maybe he was imagining things, but he could've sworn your tone made it sound like you were flirting with—

"Logan," he blurted, stiffly.

You grinned, tucking a stray hair behind your ear, "(y/n)."

Slowly, you started toward the mouth of the alleyway, his eyes following you intently, "Well, Logan, I hope we meet again... Then I'll pay you back."

"Not necessary," he assured, shaking his head.

You paused your walk for a moment, turning to glance at him with a devilish glint in your eye.

"We meet again... I'll have something for you," you promised, crossing your fingers.

A shiver rolled down his spine at your words, and you continued on your merry way, exiting the alley and hailing a nearby cab.

Once he was sure you were gone, he let out a loud sigh, allowing his shoulders to sink and a tired hand to run through his hair.

You were something...

One conversation and he already knew you were going to be trouble, the smell of your perfume and the warmth of your smile already plaguing his mind.

He shook his head, taking a deep breath before turning to walk out the alley.

But just as he stepped forward, he felt something under his foot, lifting it to reveal a necklace.

You must've lost it in the melee...

Carefully, he picked it up off the ground, placing it in his pocket before walking out the backstreet.

The next time he saw you... he'd have something for you, too.

[acepalindrome]

I think Mouthwashing is more interesting/tragic/compelling when you read Curly as a most good intentioned person who did care about his crew, AND DID SOMETHING HORRIFICALLY INEXCUSABLY AWFUL, than a monster like Jimmy who didn’t seem to have any redeemable features that he didn’t fabricate for himself to try to play the hero.

Because sometimes people who do awful things aren’t monsters. They’re just people. Maybe nice people! Maybe people who generally mean well! But that doesn’t make them immune to making horrible decisions, doesn’t make them immune to hurting others, and certainly doesn’t excuse their actions. Curly was told about the dead pixel and he couldn’t see it, just wanted to focus on the ‘big picture,’ smooth things over, descalate a conflict. Except all that meant enabling a rapist who intentionally crashed their fucking ship to try to cover up his crime.

And if you read Curly as someone who is generally decent, that makes his place in the story even more tragic. Because a decent person can make a horrible mistake, but now he can’t do anything to fix it. He’s stuck being cared for by the person he failed the worst, the person he promised to help and fucking didn’t, and he can’t even apologize to her now. He just has to watch the results of his inaction play out in front of him, just lay there in the guilt that he allowed this to happen. That’s the true punishment.

[tetsumie]

"𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐘"

read part 2 here!

pairing: tsukishima x reader & suna x reader

genre: hurt/comfort

content: the boys call you clingy but they don’t mean it

a/n: sorry i got carried away writing these ahh i sort of twisted the prompt of "when they call you clingy" into my own sort of thing idk how to explain but hopefully this turned out well :,) also not proofread so sorry about the mistakes! and as always feel free to send me requests and tell me ur thoughts on my writing!

tsukishima kei

tsukishima, you, and a few of the former karsuno volleyball players decided to have a small little reunion dinner after not seeing each other for so long.

everyone's embracing each other with hugs and to be frank, it's really nice of him to invite you to meet his friends from high school! you're really looking forward to getting to know them and maybe even getting to know your boyfriend a bit more.

as all of you are sitting at the table debating what to order, there's much chit chat between everyone and you swear you haven't seen kei so carefree in a while. sure, he's still throwing his sarcastic, snarky comments but they don't hit too harshly towards his teammates.

they are most definitely used to this.

the food has arrived and way too much wine has been ordered. with their slurred words and pink cheeks, you can tell all of them are going to blackout the moment they all get home.

"kei, so how'd you pull this gorgeous girl?" tanaka asks out of nowhere "ain't no way she fell for your snarky ass personality."

you and him both let out a chuckle and he replied with, "nah, they're just clingy as fuck and i guess they were fun to keep around."

you go quiet and the laughter has sort of died out. but the drinks keep pouring and nishinoya speaks.

"god, you're a fucking asshole," nishinoya chimes. "she's way too good for you.

although the conversation begins to take a turn in a different direction, you can't seem to get his words out of your mind.

clingy. he thinks i'm clingy.

a ball of insecurity starts to form in your stomach and his comment starts the train of overthinking. you keep telling yourself that he's had too many drinks.

yet a part of you is telling you that drunk thoughts are sober words.

how long has he thought of me as "clingy?"

the small chuckles and laughs that escape your lips have come to a halt and now you're feeling incredibly insecure. you begin to zone out and start chugging down a few glasses of wine to drown out your surroundings.

after a few eventful hours, you and tsukishima decide to grab a taxi and head home for the night. he unlocks the door to your shared apartment and you immediately head into the bedroom to change your clothes, not sparing him a second glance.

tsukishima enters the bed after cleaning up and his arm drapes over your chest. your body goes completely stiff and you're super uncomfortable with his touch, especially after his comment about you being clingy.

the moment you hear his light snores, you slowly remove his arm off your body and turn to face away from him. a feeling of numbness begins to overtake your body and you feel a sense of emptiness within.

the next morning, tsukishima woke up with a horrible headache and he instantly regretted drinking so much last night. he groans and pats your side of the bed and is greeted by just the bedsheets and not you.

grumbling, he got out of bed in search of you and finds you standing by the balcony with a cup of coffee in your hand. in that moment, his heart skips a beat and he's reminded of how much he loves you.

you yelp in surprise when you feel two arms slither around your torso and his chin resting on your shoulder. "good morning baby," he kisses your cheek.

"hi kei," you say curtly.

"what's for breakfast?"

"i just made myself toasted bread with jam. you can just make some cereal or something. i think we still have your lucky charms in the pantry," you tell him.

he pulls away from you and he feels something is off with you. you feel distant.

the feeling is confirmed when the both of you are sitting on the living room sofa while watching the new episode of your favorite reality tv show. kei expects you to come close to him and rest your head on his shoulder like you usually do yet there you are, in his vicinity, but sitting on the other end of the couch, clinging to a throw pillow.

he can't seem to concentrate on the movie when the only thing he can see is you sitting to yourself, gone completely quiet. he doesn't know what's wrong and he can't rack his mind as to what might have happened that made you so distant.

after the movie ends, he kisses your forehead and he feels your body stiffen.

what's going on? i don't know what i did?

he pulls away and looks at you. "y/n, something's wrong," he states.

you refuse to meet his gaze now and your twiddling with your fingers. he seems to have no recollection of what he's said to you last night. although, he might not recall what he said, it's the only thing you can recall in your mind. ever since this morning, whenever, you look at him, the only thing running in your mind is his words, "nah, she's just clingy as fuck and i guess she was fun to keep around."

"we're good," you reply promptly. "don't worry about it."

he grabs your hands and puts them in his which catches you off guard. you love the feeling of his hand in yours but the rational part of your brain wants to pull away, thinking about how he thought you were so clingy.

"listen, i'm not good at this. i'm not good at communicating my feelings but for you, i want to do better. so please, it would mean a lot if you could tell me what's wrong so i can help you and... us."

this is the most genuine you've seen him in a while and although to most, it may have seemed like some half-assed speech but to you, it felt raw and vulnerable.

"ok well," you began. "last night, when we were out with your friends, you were talking with your friends and well, you mentioned something about me. and it made me wonder if you think i'm clingy?"

he was confused. "no, i don't think you're clingy anymore? i don't know what you're talking about?"

the "anymore" in his response to you was something that saddened you a little. he found me clingy yet never told me?

"so you did think i was clingy, right?"

with a deep breath, he began to explain himself, "when we got together, i wasn't really used to... being so close to someone. you would always hold my hand or loop your arm in mine or something. you would always be holding me or touching me and i wasn't sure how i felt it about it at first. i was never one for physical touch so when you began to show that to me, i just... it felt... suffocating."

you're looking into his eyes, swimming with sadness and searching for answers, and he feels a mixture of sadness and guilt as he continues to explain himself.

"but being with you, i've grown to love your touch and honestly, now that i think about it, i don't know what i'd do if you just stopped being yourself and clinging on to me. i would go insane if you stopped."

kei leans in for a hug and you hug him back. you missed holding him like this and well, you just miss him. but now that kei has said all this, you're not sure about anything anymore.

you pull away and tell him, "i'm sorry you couldn't tell me that you were uncomfortable with my touches. i should have asked you how fast or slow you wanted to go and i shouldn't have forced my affection on to you."

"if you want, we can slow down. i understand," you say with a tone of finality in your voice.

"no!" he immediately replied. "it's.. it's not that. you don't force your affection on to me. you never have. i just am awkward with affection and growing up, i've never had it so i'd get super fidgety and that's why i think i felt like you were being clingy. but i love it."

"i love it when you hold my hand when we're walking to the grocery store. i love it when you doodle on my hand with your fingers when we're waiting for the food to come when we eat out. i love it when you tell me about the little stories from work while you're cooking dinner. i love it when you mumble in your sleep and snuggle close to me when it gets cold at night. i love everything about you."

kei was very much out of his comfort zone as he told you all these things and it surprised you that he noticed all these little details. you could tell he was getting embarrassed, considering how his cheeks were turning pink. you couldn't help but let a little smile seep through your facial features.

"you're so sappy," you reply.

"oh shut up."

you both laugh and then he cups your cheek in his hand, rubbing his thumb in circles. "don't ever think you force your affection on me because you never do, okay?"

"okay, kei."

the both of you spend the rest of the day with one another, making comforting memories together that the both of you will fondly remember in the future.

suna rintaro

you're not even sure how this argument even started. all you can remember is asking suna if he could accompany you to a work party that you were invited to. it was supposed to be a relatively relaxing event with not too much worries yet suna was once again trying to bail out.

"come on rin! it's one party and we never get to go out anymore," you try again for the nth time.

"y/n, jesus, i told you this, i don't want to fucking go! practice is draining me out and the one day i get off, you want me to go to some stupid fucking work party. can't you see that i want to be home?"

"we won't even have to be there that long! i just want you to come with me so you can meet some of my friends and support me. i'm really not asking for much," you counter. "i'm always trying to go to your games to support you from the stands and i'm asking you to do this one thing for me."

"i never fucking asked you to come to my games!" suna's voice began to rise and you felt yourself shrink. you had never seen him so intensely angry before. he was always so nonchalant so seeing this side of him made you nervous. "god, you're just so suffocating with everything. you always wanna do shit together, like jeez, give me a break. you're so fucking clingy sometimes; i just want space."

your mouth snaps shut and you can't find it in yourself to even reply. suna leaves the bedroom and you can head the jangle of his keys and the front door opens and then slams shut. a tear escapes from one eye and then all of a sudden, it's a full blown mental breakdown. you're sitting on the bed, crying off all your makeup.

after your cries turn into sniffles, you call up one of your colleagues, telling them you won't be attending the party. that night, you end up crying yourself to sleep.

suna had come home quite late that night after storming out.

in his head, he admits that the argument had blown up for no reason. but he just really didn't want to see your coworkers. he was cranky, annoyed, and irritated, making him deeply irrational.

as he walks into the bedroom, he sees you fast asleep in your clothes that you were planning to go out in and your makeup smudged all over your face. he felt incredibly guilty.

he messed up big time and he had to fix this. he hoped in the morning, the both of you would wake up together so he could talk it out and apologize.

you wake up the next morning feeling a lot better than last night. you turn to see suna lying in bed and a part of you just wants to run your fingers through your hair. as your fingers hover above his head, you're reminded of his words from last night.

you're so fucking clingy sometimes. i just want space.

your fingers immediately retracted and you decided to get up to start the rest of your day. you didn't want to let his words get to you. he said his opinion and there's nothing much you could do other than give him space. you'd be doing him a favor by giving him that space that he wanted, right?

suna shifts in bed, arm reaching out to your side of the bed, subconsciously. as he pats down your side of the bed, he feels the emptiness and he jolts up out of bed.

he's walking out of the bedroom and he sees you sitting on the couch, watching something on the television.

a sigh of relief escapes his mouth, thanking whatever deity out there that you hadn't left. even if you did, he couldn't blame you for it. he hurt you and there was no denying that.

"hi babe," he casually says alouds and plops on the couch next to you.

"hey."

your tone is cold and to be frank, you could care less than speak to him right now. seeing him is just a constant reminder of how clingy you are and you really don't want to be confronted with the feeling of sadness again.

in an attempt to smooth things over with you, he tries to start conversation in hopes that things will get back to normal naturally and maybe.. just maybe you'll know that he's sorry without him saying it.

"osamu was talking about some new onigiri thing he made and he wanted to drop some off for us to try. should i say yes?" he asked.

"sure."

your responses to his efforts are completely shut down and he's just praying that things get better with time. he reassures himself that things will go back to normal, it's just a matter of time. within a few days, things will be back to normal!

that's what he thought until his first volleyball match of the season came about. as he was standing in the court, his eyes scanned the rest of the stadium for your figure in hopes of finding you wearing his jersey but to no avail, he couldn't find you.

he assumed you were running late or stuck in traffic. no matter what you would be here, right?

but the first set is already over and you're nowhere to be seen. taking a quick break, he texts you:

suna: r u here?

suna: i don't see u in the stands.

it's delivered and suna's back in the court. he's misreading all of the opponent's attacks and his blocks are all being haphazardly done. the only thing on his mind is you.

the EJP coach calls for a timeout and sits him out for the rest of the match. "i don't know what's going on with you but you need to pull it together. your slacking is messing up with the rest of the team," coach berated him and all suna could do was nod his head.

he sat on the bench and immediately grabs his phone to text you.

suna: can you please answer?

suna: or call me? please?

suna: fuck y/n

suna: r u ok?

with no response, concern is etched onto his face. he tells his coach that he has to go and although he's about to suffer hell when he goes to practice tomorrow for dipping, he needs to see you.

you're seeing all of his messages.

you've seen all of them.

and you don't want to respond to a single one of them.

you know he's coming home and he's about to bombard you with questions and you don't want to respond to him. you don't want to come off as clingy again.

you hear the jangle of the keys and prepare yourself.

he opens the door and finds you in the kitchen, making yourself some snacks.

"so where were you today?" he begins.

"at home."

his hands find their way to your waist and he slowly turns you around to look him in the eye. "why didn't you come?"

you sigh in frustration. "i don't know what you want from me. you say i'm clingy and you want some space and on top of that you mentioned how you've never asked me to go to any of your games so here i am respecting your wishes like you asked yet you have the fucking audacity to ask me where i was and why i wasn't with you?"

his hands let go of your waist and he steps back to fully look at you.

"rin, i don't know what you want from me anymore."

suna's mouth opens and then shuts, not sure as to what to say to you. you were more upset about his comment than you let on and now all your anger and frustration was coming out.

"listen, i-"

"no, you listen to me," you interrupt, immediately shutting him up. "all i wanted that night was for you to come to my work party. it's all i wanted. that party was mainly for me because i helped our company reach this new milestone! and i wanted you to come and celebrate with me and my colleagues. is it so much to ask for my boyfriend to come support me?"

"and then you go on to say i'm clingy and do you have any idea how much it hurt me when you said that? when you would talk to me about anything, the only thing going through my head would be the fact that you called me clingy and god, i just wanted to vanish in thin air because i hated knowing that you thought that of me which is why i gave you your space. i kept thinking you just didn't want my affection."

you rest your elbows on the kitchen countertop and put your face in your hands. you finally burst out with all the feelings that have been suffocating your mind. it felt good to finally relieve it all but you could only imagine what was going through his mind. was he mad or upset or did he just not care about my feelings?

all of a sudden, you feel two arms wrap around your torso and kisses to the top of your head.

"love, you're not clingy. if anything, i'm the clingy one. i always want you by my side like at my games or when i go out with my friends or even if i'm just lying in bed. i want you."

he strokes your hair and now you're turning around to look at him again. his eyes are wide and a bit glassy. this is probably one of the first times you've seen emotion on his face aside from his regular snarky remarks.

"i wish i could take back what i said that night but i can't. but please know that i don't know what i'd do without you. i was really upset that night and all i wanted to was just sleep it off. but your insistence to go got me aggravated and i lashed out. you don't deserve that. you never deserve that."

"i want to be the one you wake up to in the morning. i want to be the one you take to all your work parties and events. i want to be the one you tell you gossip with. i want to be the one you have your late night talks with. i want to be the one you end your nights with. i want to be the one you spend the rest of your life with. i want to be yours."

tears started to escape your eyes and your heart was swollen. suna was never one to be so open with his emotions yet here he was opening so much to you. you hug his torso and sob into his chest.

"i love you, i'm sorry," you say.

"i love you too, and i'm sorry too," he replies, kissing the top of your forehead.

© tetsumie 2024 all rights reserved 

[girlgenius1111]

throw it all away part 2

part 2 of 2 :) [putellas!reader] just because she knows, now, doesn't mean the path to recovery is straightforward. alexia struggles to help you the way you need. you struggle to even want help. tw: this is a fic about r struggling with an ED. proceed with caution.

—

The protein shake glass sat empty in front of you when Alexia walked into the kitchen. Olga was in the chair next to you, rubbing your back slowly. There were tears running down your face, but your expression was stony. 

Alexia took the seat next to you without a second thought, pulling you into her side. “I’m proud of you.”

“I hate myself.” You murmured, almost against your will. “This shouldn’t be so hard. It’s ridiculous.” 

“It’s not ridiculous,” Alexia objected. “It’s okay. This happens, it’s normal, pequeña.” 

You looked at her strangely, pulling away from her embrace and your sister winced at her own words, scrambling to fix her mistake. “I just mean this is how you’re supposed to feel. In recovery, this is normal. It’s going to be hard, but you just have to push through and-”

“Ale,” Olga interrupted, shaking her head gently. 

Alexia looked back at you, falling silent as she did so. Your cheeks were burning with embarrassment, or maybe anger, and you were staring at the plate in front of you like it had personally harmed you. The blonde couldn’t take the look on your face, wanted more than anything to just say the right thing and have all the answers for you, and she started blabbering again before she could stop herself. 

“You did a really good job finishing your protein shake-”

At this, you rolled your eyes, and Alexia started talking faster. 

“-maybe we can get your favorite takeout for dinner? The pasta place you like, with the– ow, Olga.” 

Again, Alexia fell silent, rubbing her arm where her girlfriend had elbowed her. Olga was shooting her a look and your sister sighed, rubbing at her forehead with her hand. Obviously discussing food was a no go, she should know better than that. She thought hard, trying to think of anything that would make you feel better, get rid of the horribly sad frown on your face. 

“Maybe you can come to training tomorrow and watch! So you don’t miss out on too much, and-”

“Alexia, for the love of god, shut up.” You snapped, throwing your hands up in the air and rising from your chair. 

“Pequeña, I’m just trying to-” 

“You don’t want me to miss out on too much training, I got it. Football is the most important thing. I know that, Alexia. I know. I know I’m fucking my season right now, I know I’m fucking the team, so please just, for once, stop talking about fucking football.” 

Alexia couldn’t help the hurt that panged in her chest, or the pained look she was sure flashed across her face. You felt guilt split your chest open at the sight, but you pushed that away, trying to hold onto your anger, which was quickly fading. 

“I’m going to the bathroom.” You turned to walk out of the room, but Olga’s voice behind you made you freeze in your tracks. 

“Nena? Can you leave the door open a crack please?” 

You felt everything inside of you seize up at her words, shame and frustration and embarrassment and hurt welling up, until a few tears fell down your cheeks. God, you hated that they knew. They didn’t even know but they knew, and that was awful. Incomparably, singularly awful. 

“Why does she have to– oh.” Alexia said. She hadn’t really considered that as a possibility. She thought you just weren’t eating. This seemed… worse, somehow. When you turned around to look at her, you could tell she thought it was worse. 

“Yeah.” You agreed, turning back around and practically stomping out of the room. 

As soon as you were gone, Alexia turned to her girlfriend. “How did you know she was… doing that?” 

Olga exhaled heavily, leaning back in her chair. The two of you were going to give her a migraine, but she didn’t really blame you. Alexia on the other hand…

“I didn’t. I wasn’t sure, but I asked her to leave the door open just in case. Her reaction, though… she is.” 

“Oh.” Alexia mumbled, unconsciously reaching for her girlfriend’s hand. Olga pulled away with a shake of her head, sitting up straighter in her chair. 

“Ale, you have to relax. Talking her ear off isn’t helping right now, she’s already overwhelmed.” 

“I’m just trying to help!”

“I know you are, amor, but you have to think about how she’s feeling right now,” 

“But I don’t know how she’s feeling! I want to, but I don’t understand! I can’t understand. Keeping your body healthy is the most important thing in football, and I don’t understand why she’s done this, because I would never do this. How am I supposed to help if I don’t understand? I can’t, Olga. I can’t fix this.” 

Both women were speaking too loudly to hear your footsteps returning to the kitchen, though you paused just outside the doorway, catching the end of your sister’s sentence. 

I can't fix this. she'd said. 

I can’t understand. 

I would never do this. 

How am I supposed to help?

It sounded like she’d already given up on you. She’d decided she couldn’t understand, couldn’t help, and it was all your fault. For pushing away her attempts to help earlier, snapping at her when you knew she was just trying to make you feel better. You felt like a lost cause, but now she felt that way about you too. 

You took a deep breath, walking back into the kitchen before Olga could reply. You looked oddly pale and shaky, and though it was because you’d overheard your sister and misunderstood, Ale didn’t know that. She glanced over at you, doing a double take as her eyes widened. 

“Nena, did you…?” 

Next to the blonde, Olga suppressed a sigh. You blinked at her for a second, confused, before recoiling backwards, a scowl etched onto your face. “No. I left the door open like you told me to, and I didn’t do anything.” 

Alexia relaxed, just barely, clearly about to say something else that would be entirely wrong when Olga spoke first. 

“Why don’t you go upstairs and take a little bit, pequeña? It’s been a long day, you must be exhausted and overwhelmed.” 

Your sister nodded her agreement, and you felt your heart sink even further if possible. Of course they didn’t want to deal with you anymore today. You didn’t say you’d rather be with them, because the loneliness would be almost too much to bear. You just nodded, eyes fixed on the hardwood floor under you as you turned and left the room once more.

—

Alexia felt slightly more prepared to talk to you when she knocked on your door a half hour later. She’d done some quick research, compiling another list in her head of what to say and what not to say. She’d tried to convince Olga to go up and check on you instead of her, because all the midfielder seemed to be able to do today was mess up, but Olga had insisted that it be Alexia. You needed your sister, and Alexia needed to make up for the absolute disaster she’d been earlier. 

All she got in response to her knock was a sharp huff. 

“Chiqui? Can I come in?” 

“I guess.” You called back. Alexia opened your door, slipping inside and finding you sprawled on your bed, staring hard at the ceiling. 

She hovered in the doorway uncertainly, opening and closing her mouth a few times before she settled on what she wanted to say. “How are you feeling?”

“How do you think I’m feeling?” You snapped, glaring at her harshly. 

“Hey,” Alexia tried, though she wasn’t sure if she was allowed to scold you for catching an attitude with her. She didn’t know what any of the rules were anymore. 

You shook your head with an annoyed huff. “What do you want, Ale? I thought I didn’t need to talk any more today.”  

And Olga had promised you that. Alexia was just hoping, perhaps naively, that you’d want to talk to her more. Instead, it seemed like you were barely holding yourself back from forcibly shoving your sister out of your room.

Any other time, any other situation, Alexia would have shouted at you to be respectful. Both of you knew that. It only made you feel worse that she felt that she had to tiptoe around you. She was treating you differently already and you hated that. 

Alexia studied you for a few moments, before walking over to your bed and taking a seat on the edge of it. She put her hand on your shoulder, but you shrugged it off, and Alexia bit her lip.  You noticed she was wearing this absurd shirt you’d gotten her as a joke a few years ago, one that proclaimed her as the world’s best sister. Really, you’d given it to Ale to spite Alba after arguing with her, though you’d also gotten Alba one a few days later, just to make sure her feelings weren’t hurt. Alexia wearing it now could have been completely accidental, or it could have been some kind of weird confidence boost she was trying to give herself. Either way, you felt emotion try to claw out of the pit you’d shoved it into, but you pushed it down again. 

“I just want to help you.” The blonde said finally, her hands fiddling with a stray thread on your comforter. 

You scoffed, sitting up off your bed and turning to face your sister. “You don’t mean that.” 

Alexia’s head whipped up to look at you, an absolutely crestfallen look on her face. “Of course I do. Why would you say that?” 

“You don’t. You said so earlier, you don’t understand, you can’t understand, you’d never do this. How are you supposed to help? You can’t, so don’t pretend that you want to.” You were fully crying now, pacing around your room but absolutely refusing to make eye contact with Alexia. 

The midfielder’s heart sank as you threw her words back at her. She hadn’t known you’d overheard her, hadn’t realized how that had sounded. She’d been begging Olga to give her some guidance, not expressing that she’d given up on you, that she didn't really want to help you. 

“Oh, mi pequeña,” Alexia whispered, standing and pulling you into a hug. You didn’t hug her back, even as her arms wrapped tight around you, and she pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “That’s not what I meant, not at all. I’ve never been through this, nena, and it’s hard for me to understand, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to help you. I do, more than anything.” 

“You shouldn’t bother. It’s hopeless, I can’t do this.” You sobbed, finally hugging Alexia back, clinging on tightly to her shirt. 

“It’s not hopeless. It might feel like it is, but I am never going to give up on you, on trying to understand, on trying to help. Never, nena.” 

You pulled away for her, guilt once again replacing anger. Taking a few shuddering breaths, you tried to get your thoughts in order, or, you supposed, your feelings in order. You looked at your sister again, her arms at her sides as she looked at you helplessly. 

“You’re being too patient with me.” You whispered, sitting down heavily on the edge of your bed. 

Alexia took a seat next to you, feeling like maybe… maybe she did know what to say. “No. I don’t think I’m being patient enough.”

You shook your head, though still allowed your sister to grab your hand in hers. Whether it was for your comfort or for hers, you weren’t sure. Maybe both. “I’m not…I’m not sick. This problem, it’s all mental. I don’t deserve for everyone to be this kind and this patient. I chose this.”

There was a certain guilt that accompanied all of this. A real sickness, in your mind, wasn’t something that a person inflicted onto themselves. This was your fault. You had started it, you had continued it, and you’d let it get so bad that other people had to intervene. You didn’t deserve your sister’s patience. 

Alexia gripped your hand tighter. “You are sick. Your brain is sick. And while you get better, you deserve all the kindness and patience. You made choices that got you here, but you are sick, hermanita. Just a different type than you’re used to.” 

You looked at her tearfully, an almost pleading expression on your face. “I don’t know how to get better, Ale. I don’t know if I can.” 

Alexia understood, then, that you weren’t pushing her away because you didn’t want her help, necessarily. You just didn’t want to waste her time when the task ahead of you felt so entirely impossible. 

“I don’t know either. I don’t really know how to help you, but I’m going to find out, and I’m going to do it. Whatever it takes, nena. You are my baby sister, and you are worth the effort. I’m not going to give up on you. Not ever.” 

For a moment, you looked at Alexia like you used to look at her. When you were tiny and she was your perfect, safe older sister. Your Ale, who let you sleep in her bed after bad dreams, who double knotted your shoelaces in the morning, and carried your backpack to class. Who taught you how to kick a football, and that you could be anything you wanted. You looked at Alexia like she’d hung the stars and the moon, like she could do anything. 

That look used to make her feel like she could do anything, your belief in her something she could always count on. Now, the determination in Alexia’s eyes made you feel like you could do anything, just for a moment. You needed more than a moment, though.

—

If it wasn’t bad enough that you couldn’t play, couldn’t train, couldn’t even spend time in the gym without close supervision, you were seeing the specialist psychologist that the club had brought in every single day. The first few sessions didn’t heed much. It seemed she was trying to create a rapport with you, getting to know you before she tried to get you to bare your soul to her. 

It was after your fourth session with your therapist, Lucia, that she began to press you to talk about the issue at hand. And it was after your fourth session that you found yourself speed walking out of Lucia’s office, not watching where you were going, tears streaming down your cheeks. 

You were desperately hoping not to run into any of your teammates, as the facts of what was going on had been kept strictly between the captains and the coaching staff. Your teammates, however, would have had to be blind to not realize something was going on. All they’d been told was that you were out of training and matches for the time being. 

Maybe some of them would have asked more questions if not for the terrifying shadow that your sister had become. She walked you to Lucia’s office every day, tried her best to be waiting outside when you were done. Any time you spent with the team, normally just coming out to the pitch to say hello, Alexia hovered behind you, shooting anyone a death glare if they so much as looked like they were going to ask you something deeper than “how are you?” 

You half wondered if your Mami had put her up to this, because the last time you’d seen Alexia this protective was when you were 6, and you’d been getting teased at school. A few words from Eli to Alexia had your sister walking you to your classroom one morning, and making verbal threats to half the boys in the room. Alexia had been scary then, even as a teenager, and her actions had been more than effective. 

This behavior might just be all Alexia, although you knew she’d told Eli and Alba what’s been going on. You didn’t want them to know, and Alexia had hesitantly agreed not to tell them. Later, though, Olga had pulled you aside and said that it would probably be helpful to both you and Alexia to have other opinions involved, and for Alexia not to carry the stress of this all on her own. She had a point, there, and you’d given Ale the go ahead to inform your Mami and Alba. She’d done so, but aside from phone calls from each of them, they’d been respecting your space. 

Everyone, really, had been respecting your space. Aside from a new meal plan from the team’s nutritionists that you’d been trying your best to follow, no one had been forcing you to talk. 

Until today. 

Lucia had pushed you for the first time, and you’d tried your best to be open with her. It went against every instinct you had, though, and you could barely stick to a narrative with Lucia. For half the conversation, you’d admitted that there was a problem. For the other half, you’d denied it, until you were sure you’d contradicted yourself several times. 

She’d let you go 10 minutes early, probably because you were in tears and had gone pretty much silent on her; she must have decided she’d pushed you enough for the day. It was in this state, tears falling freely down your face, that you exited her office. You turned the corner towards the changing room, intending to grab your bag from your locker and see if Olga would come pick you up early, instead plowing directly into Mapi. 

“Woah! Where’s the fire?” She joked, grabbing your arms to steady you. Her smile fell, though, when she saw that you were crying. “Pequeña? You okay?” 

It was clear for anyone to see that you weren’t okay, but Mapi wasn’t quite sure how willing you’d be to talk to her, so she decided to give you an out in case you wanted to go find your sister instead. Mapi wasn’t expecting the broken sob that you let out, or the way that you shook your head, so easily admitting that something was wrong after so long of pretending the opposite to be true. 

“Do you want me to go get Ale?” The defender asked softly. 

Again, you shook your head. How could you explain that you were crying because of your sister to your sister. “N-no. She’s busy.” 

“She wouldn’t mind, nena, you know that.” 

That was entirely the problem. She was being too patient, too perfect, it was almost overwhelming. There was too much pressure on you to be perfect, too. A perfect recovery didn’t exist, but you felt like it had to. For Ale, for Lucia, for the club and the team. It felt like you were hurtling towards some unknown end, the pressure building everyday. You weren’t sure how much more you could take. 

“She’s dealing with enough of this. It’s fine. I’m fine.” You spoke as if you were trying to convince yourself, but the wobbling of your voice gave you away. 

“Venga,” Mapi sighed, opening her arms for a hug. She half expected you to reject her, but was pleasantly surprised when you stepped forward and wrapped yourself tight around her. You were trembling, and she tightened her grip on you, wondering if she should ignore what you’d said and go get Alexia anyway. She didn’t want to betray your trust, though, and it seemed very obvious that you didn’t want to see your sister at the moment, so Mapi settled for some empty words she hoped were somewhat comforting.

“It’s all gonna be okay, pequeña. Whatever it is, you’re going to be okay.” 

“How do you know?” You mumbled, sniffling into the shoulder of her training top, half embarrassed and half too tired to even care.

Mapi rubbed your back slowly, thinking on her answer. She just… knew.

 “You don’t give up. You’re a determined person, and you can do anything you put your mind to. Whatever is going on isn’t any different. You’re strong enough for anything, nena.”

Pulling away, you wiped at your face, managing a weak smile for the defender. “Thanks María.” 

She smiled sadly back at you, as if she knew what she’d said hadn’t really helped. “Anything you need, I’m here, sí? We all are.” 

You nodded, thanking her again before you continued on your way to the locker room, hopefully where you’d be able to grab your stuff and get out of her before seeing anyone else. Especially Alexia. You got lost in your thoughts again rather quickly, barely able to focus when Olga answered her phone and told you to wait for her outside. You were too wrapped up in what Mapi had said. 

‘You’re a determined person.’ 

‘You’re strong enough.’

You didn’t feel strong. You didn’t even feel very determined. You felt weak, like it was only a matter of time before you cracked and let everyone down. And everyone would see just how weak you really were.

—

The house was too quiet when Alexia and Olga arrived home from dinner. No music playing, no mindless reality show on the TV. And you were nowhere to be seen. Alexia slid her shoes off, offering a hand out to steady Olga as the other woman removed her heels. 

“Something’s wrong.” Alexia murmured, looking up the stairs as if she could see through the walls into your room. She didn’t know what was wrong or what had happened, but she just knew something wasn’t okay. “I shouldn’t have left her.”

Olga shook her head, though, giving her girlfriend a sad smile. “You can’t always be with her, Ale. This is something she has to do herself sometimes.” 

The blonde frowned. “But what if…” 

“If she did, you tell her it’s okay. You tell her that relapsing is a part of getting better, and that you’re not upset with her.” Alexia nodded slowly, worrying her lip between her teeth. Olga grabbed her hand, squeezing once. “If she did, she probably just wants a hug, amor. She doesn’t want to hear that you feel guilt for leaving her to her own devices. She’s already going to feel like she broke your trust, and that would only make it worse.” 

For a second, Alexia just stared in wonder at her girlfriend. Because, of course, it all made sense when Olga explained it, but Alexia would never have considered things from that perspective. Before Olga even knew what was happening, Alexia was wrapping her in a tight hug, tucking the shorter woman’s head under her chin.

“Thank you. I would have messed this up so many times without you, and I’m so grateful that you’re here and you’re so willing to help.” 

Olga hugged her back with a matching ferocity, feeling a small smile grow on her face. Once, she’d expressed to Alexia that she felt the other woman wasn’t expressive enough. It was hard to know what the very tough captain was thinking, even harder to know what she was feeling. Since then, Alexia had made a concerted effort to speak her feelings aloud. It wouldn’t ever not make Olga smile to hear Alexia expressing her appreciation for her. “You don’t have to thank me.” 

“Maybe I don’t have to, but I want to. I don’t want you to ever doubt how perfect you are.” Alexia replied sweetly, pressing a gentle kiss to Olga’s cheek. 

It wasn’t the perfect date night that either of them had imagined, but it was still them, and that was enough. 

—

You really hadn’t meant to ruin Ale and Olga’s evening. When they’d left, you thought it would be nice to have some time to yourself. And it would have been, if you hadn’t tried to push yourself to eat dessert on top of an entire dinner. You’d managed a few bites before you began to spiral, and it had all gone downhill from there. 

Even still, you were hoping your sister and her girlfriend would slip into the house, say a brief goodnight, and not bother themselves with you. You certainly weren’t going to tell them what happened. Not today. It was your every intention to deal with your shame and embarrassment yourself in your room, which likely entailed crying into your pillow until you fell asleep. 

Alexia ruined your plans, though, with her magical ability to sense when something wasn’t right. It allowed her to sniff out one of Pina’s pranks before it happened, allowed her to turn around and squirt Mapi with water just as the defender was about to do the same to her. It was a gut feeling, and it was even stronger when it involved you. 

It wasn’t really magical. It was a lot of little things she picked up on. The little smirk Pina got before she pulled a prank. Mapi’s quiet giggling as she tried to sneak up on Ale. Now, it was the lack of noise in the house. The abandoned bowl of ice cream on the kitchen table, the light and fan left on in the downstairs bathroom. Your sister had known you all her life, and she knew what she’d find when she opened your bedroom door. Just like when you were little, and you’d sit at the foot of your bed when you’d gotten in trouble. Tears streaming down your little face, you’d turn away from Ale when she’d come after you, but she just had to wrap her arms around you, and you’d break. 

You’d never been able to deny yourself the comfort of an Alexia hug. 

Ale knocked softly before entering, finding you with your chin resting on your knees, wiping roughly at the tears falling down your face. 

“Hey, chiqui.” She said softly. 

“Hi.” You said, clearing your throat when your voice cracked. “How was your night?” 

Alexia ruffled your hair, knowing exactly what you were attempting to do, and took a seat next to you. “It was nice, dinner was good. We had fun.” 

“That’s good.” 

Alexia wrapped her arm around your shoulders. “You can tell me if something happened.” 

“Nothing happened.” You said firmly, though you leaned further into your sister, like she could protect you from something you’d done yourself. Something you’d done to yourself.  

“Pequeña,” 

“Nothing happened, Ale. Nothing.” 

How could you tell her? How could you tell her that you’d failed, that you’d messed up, that you’d deviated from the plan? She was going to be upset, you knew it. She expected perfection. She always had. This would be no different. Alexia wanted you to have a perfect recovery. 

As you continued to pretend nothing was wrong, Alexia felt a flash of frustration run through her. You still weren’t very willing to talk to her. Was she doing something wrong? Was she not not being patient enough or kind enough? What more could she do for you? What would it take for her to be enough? 

She looked at you again, though, at the way your lower lip was wobbling, and the tears in your eyes that you refused to let fall. You were barely hanging on to your strength, and Alexia wasn’t sure why you were so resistant to being vulnerable with her, but she knew she couldn’t stop trying. 

“Let me in. Please, you’re hurting, I can tell. Just talk to me.” She tried. When you stayed silent, she reached out, resting a hand on your shoulder. “I just want to help, nena. Let me help.”

You couldn’t take the pleading tone of your sister’s voice anymore, and the words streamed out of you before you could stop them. 

“I’m sorry. I– It was all just too much, I didn’t have a choice, I had to,” You choked out, eyes fixed firmly on the wall in front of you, even as your voice cracked and you started to cry. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Ale.” 

“Nena, why are you sorry?” Alexia asked, pulling you into her. You sobbed, unrestrained, into her sweater for a few moments, leaning back to take a few gasping breaths as you tried to answer her. 

“I– I messed up,” you cried. “I broke your trust and–”

“No, cariño, don’t think of it like that.” Alexia interrupted, wiping a few tears off your cheek, though more replaced them quickly. 

“But it is like that! The minute you left I made myself–” You cut yourself off with a sharp shake of your head. 

“Tell me. Tell me what happened, and we can talk through it, yeah?” 

“You don’t want to hear.” 

“Yes I do. That’s why I asked. Walk me through what happened and we can make a plan for next time.” 

It was always about plans with your sister, but you weren’t in much of a state to argue with her.

“I– I ate dinner. And it was okay. It was better. I think it got too confident or I wasn’t thinking hard enough but I got myself some ice cream but I only had a few bites before I was thinking about all the calories in it and how I’d have to skip breakfast tomorrow to make up for it, and then I remembered I have breakfast plans with Alba and I would have to eat and so I knew I had to–... I went to–,” 

You couldn’t go on, crying too hard to get another word out. You covered your face with your hand, more than humiliated at your tears and what you were trying to tell your sister. It felt horribly private, and you didn't want to see the disgust and judgment on your sister’s face. You’d never given her this much detail before, and you were sure she didn’t want to hear this. 

If you’d just opened your eyes, though, you would have seen the opposite of what you were expecting. Alexia was near tears herself, simply from seeing the pain that you were in. You were normally so good at hiding it; even when Alexia knew something was wrong, she couldn’t truly see how much it affected you. Now, though, something in you had broken, and you were falling to pieces in front of her. 

She hadn’t seen you cry like this since you’d broken your ankle training with her a few years ago. All she’d been able to think to do while she waited for Eli to come pick you both up was pull you into her lap, though you were too big for it. 

And it was all she could think to do now, allowing you to tuck yourself into her and cry as hard as you needed to. She held you tightly, as if she could stabilize the world as it crumbled around you, her own tears falling freely now. 

“Alright, alright. It’s okay. It’s all okay, hermanita.” 

“It’s not.” You sobbed, bordering on hysterical now. “I le-let you down.” 

“No,” Alexia disagreed.  “No. You didn’t let me down. This is part of it, chiqui. Part of recovery is relapsing, and I will never ever be disappointed in you for that. I know this isn’t easy.”

You simply didn’t believe her. She had to be disappointed, so you had to keep trying to justify it. 

“I-I hate feeling like this.  I just needed to control something. I just needed to be in control.” 

“I get that. It must be really scary to give up control over what’s going in your body. Listening to the meal plans and eating what we tell you has to be so difficult.” 

And though it was what you’d wanted all week, to hear Alexia acknowledge how hard this was, it didn’t feel right. You were convinced she was just saying whatever she needed to to get you to stop crying, that she was disappointed, even if she wasn’t showing it. She shouldn’t have to push down her justified anger because you were a disaster, she should be mad at you. 

“No, Ale, stop.” You said, though you didn’t have the strength to push away from where your face was buried in the fabric of her sweater. “You’re disappointed, you want to yell. Just yell, please. It’ll make you feel better, and you won’t be mad at me anymore, so please. Just yell. I messed up. I deserve it.” 

Alexia was quiet for almost a full minute. It felt like a stab to the chest that you thought she had to yell in order to work through her feelings. That you were so convinced she was angry with you, disappointed in you. That you were willing to sit through a lecture because you felt so guilty for what you’d done. She hated it all; you weren’t to blame. You were doing your best. She could see that, everyone could see that, so why couldn’t you?

It was as if you thought of yourself as a bad person for having an eating disorder. As if every relapse, every action you’d taken in the haze of your illness, made you a bad person. Being sick didn’t make you bad, and your sister ached to make you see that. 

“Tell me something. After you make yourself throw up, what do you feel? What goes through your head?” 

The question felt like it came from nowhere, the confusion you felt putting a stop to your tears. Instead, you breathed deeply for a minute, thinking. Hearing her say it made your stomach drop. You didn’t like to name it in your head. It was just… something you did, and if it remained unnamed, it wouldn’t matter. 

But it did matter, and even though she was supposed to be mad, Alexia was rubbing your back like you mattered, and it was all so confusing that you just found yourself answering. 

“Awful. Ashamed and embarrassed and disgusted. Guilty. I hate myself after I do it. It feels like the world is ending because I have to start over, like all the progress I’ve made was for nothing.”

“Does it make you feel like a bad person?” 

At this, you jolted away from Alexia, staring at her with wide eyes. What was the right answer? What did she want to hear?

“I guess. I… I know I’m doing something wrong, something I shouldn’t be doing. I know I’m hurting my body and I know I’m hurting the team and my career. I’m doing something wrong and that makes me feel like I’m bad.” You admitted. Completely unsure where that confession had come from, you stared at your sister as you waited for her reply, as if you were shocked by your statement. She didn’t seem to be. 

“It is wrong because it is unhealthy. It is wrong because you are hurting yourself. But… doing something ‘wrong’ doesn’t make you bad. You aren’t a bad person for being sick, you aren’t a bad person for relapsing. You’re doing your best, nena. You are trying. And even if you weren’t, that wouldn’t make you bad.” 

You didn’t fully believe her, and Alexia could tell. This wasn’t something she could fix with a few words, though, and she knew that. Tomorrow, she’d make sure you talked to Lucia about this, but for now, she was content knowing that you weren’t crying anymore, and you looked significantly less distressed. 

“You’re really not mad? Or disappointed?” 

Alexia swallowed the lump in her throat at your question. “I’m really not. I’ve done my research, I’ve talked to your doctor, I knew to expect this, nena. It’s okay, it’s part of getting better. It can’t all be perfect, it won’t all be perfect. You don’t need to be perfect. You just need to try, and I’ll be proud of you. I am proud of you.” 

You wondered how Alexia had gone from a disaster that could barely put a sentence together without saying the wrong thing to this; saying exactly what you needed to hear from her and more. Likely, it was a combination of Olga, the research you know she’d stayed up late doing, and sheer determination to help you the best she could. 

“I know this is hard in a lot of ways,” Alexia continued. “But you can talk to me. Always. Without worrying that I’ll be mad or upset. I promise you, pequeña, you can tell me anything. I’m here to help you.” 

“I just hate talking about this.” You admitted. “I don’t like being vulnerable.” 

“I know you don’t. You never have.” Alexia chuckled, thinking about how Eli used to have a jar set on the kitchen counter called the feeling’s jar. If you were upset about something, you were supposed to tell your Mami or your sisters about it, but that almost never happened. Instead, Eli gave you the option to write the feeling down and put it in the jar for someone to read later, when you weren’t in the room. It was the best any of them could do to understand what was going through your head, even as a child. “Would it make it better if I was vulnerable too? If I talk about something hard with you?” 

You laughed, thinking she was joking, but when you glanced at her, she was completely serious, earnestly staring at you. 

“Maybe.” You said suspiciously, highly doubtful that Alexia was about to tell you anything that really mattered to her. If you were stubborn about your feelings, it was because Ale was too. 

Alexia just nodded, almost solemnly, fixing her attention on the ceiling above you both before she began speaking. “This season… this season has been harder. It’s always been hard switching off from football and taking a break when I need to, but it’s like… I have all this stuff outside of football that deserves my attention too. And it’s even harder now.” 

“Other stuff… being Olga?”

Your sister nodded, blushing just slightly. “I need to spend less time doing extra training and watching film and obsessing over strategies.  I just… I can’t. I can’t do it. I have to train every day. I have to do the most that I can.” 

“Or what?”

“Or… I don’t know. I’d feel bad. I’d fail the team. But if I don’t find a better balance…” Alexia paused, taking a deep breath. You could have cried, again, from how much you appreciated her in that moment. Telling you things you knew she struggled to share, so you’d feel less alone. “Olga is always on me about self care, and I’m worried I’ll lose her if I don’t figure out how to take breaks and leave football behind when I come home, at least a little. And I really, really don’t want to lose her.” 

You thought hard, knowing that Alexia deserved the absolute best advice you could give her, even if she wasn’t explicitly asking for it. 

“I don’t think you’re going to lose her, Ale. But I think she deserves better than being second best to your job until you retire. It’s like you said, you need a balance. Sometimes, football is going to come first. That’s just part of the job. But you also have to make sure she comes first too, sometimes. Even if you have to do something that makes you uncomfortable, like miss an extra training session or not watch all the available film you can get your hands on.” 

By the time you stopped talking and looked at your sister, she looked almost stunned, as though she wasn’t expecting you to have anything very helpful to say. 

“When did you get good at giving relationship advice?” She asked. “The last time I asked you for advice like this you told me to spray paint I love you on Jenni’s car as an apology.” 

You laughed. “That was like… 10 years ago, Ale. I’ve grown up.” 

“You really have.” Your sister got a rather pensive look on her face, as if she was just seeing for the first time that you were no longer a little kid. In effort to avoid any further sappiness, you voiced the idea that had popped into your head a few minutes ago. 

“Didn’t Olga say she doesn’t have much work to do tomorrow? You should take her to lunch.” 

“We have training.” Alexia said automatically.

You rolled your eyes. “I know. Skip. It’s a gym session and film that you’ve probably already watched. Skip it and take your girlfriend out. No one will care.” 

It was clear that the idea made Alexia uncomfortable. Really uncomfortable. Her posture had become stiff and her hands were clenched almost as tightly as her jaw was. 

 But she thought about the last time she’d done something spontaneous for Olga, and the way the brunette's face had lit up. It had just been flowers picked up on the way home from training, but it had clearly meant a lot to her. Alexia wanted to see that look on Olga’s face again. Soon. 

“Okay.” She agreed hesitantly. “How do I skip? Is it like school? Should I lie and say I’m sick?” 

You laughed again, but Alexia joined in this time. “No, tonta. Just say you have a personal commitment. It’s not like anyone is going to ask questions.” 

“Mmm. Well, you’re coming with us.” 

You looked at her like she was stupid. “No I’m not. That would ruin the romantic date with your girlfriend.” 

Alexia frowned, trying to think of a way she could make you a part of this too. A way she could make you want to try because she was trying. “Fine, but I’m bringing you back lunch, okay?” 

Suddenly, you looked just as uncomfortable as your sister had, but you agreed nonetheless. You couldn’t not try if Alexia was trying. And you both knew that what you had to do was harder than what she had to do. It wasn’t really about that, though. It was about your sister understanding how difficult this process was, and telling you that you didn’t have to be perfect, just like she wasn’t. 

Recovery wasn’t perfect. Existing wasn’t perfect. It was about trying. It was about knowing there needed to be a change, and doing your best to make one. 

Trying your best didn’t have to be perfect, or without fault. Alexia almost threw herself into a panic attack the next day when she remembered she was missing a captains meeting, but Olga had calmed her down and Irene had promised to send her copious notes. 

The look on Olga’s face had made it all feel worth it when Alexia had asked her of the plan you’d come up with. 

“Do you want to get lunch tomorrow?” Alexia had asked casually, as her and Olga stood side by side at the stove, cooking dinner. 

“After training?” Olga had wondered, confused. 

“No. No training tomorrow, I’m taking the day off.” 

It was very worth it when Olga practically dropped the wooden spoon she was holding and launched herself at Alexia, wrapping the taller woman in a tight hug. It was so, so worth it when Olga whispered a soft I’m proud of you in Alexia’s ear. 

It wasn’t easy when you tried to eat lunch the next day. It wasn’t easy when you were done, and when you cried into your sister’s shoulder, when all you wanted to do was get rid of it. 

But it was worth it later, when Alexia told you how proud she was of you, and you knew she meant it. You believed her. The next day, when Lucia told you she thought you were making good progress. Every step forward wasn’t without some faltering, but you moved forward anyway.

You moved through recovery. Forwards and backwards. Mostly forwards. Returning to training, to matches, to doing what you loved. To feeling like yourself again. 

It wasn’t easy. It wasn’t perfect, but change was worth it. Getting better was worth it. 

—

didn't plan on finishing this and getting it out tonight but it was flowing really well and i... think... i'm... happy... with.... it??? anyway! thanks for reading <3

[verstappenf1lecccc]

Charles leclerc x reader, your his assistant that He has been pinning over forever and drops hints and like a lovesick puppy to you but your oblivious and innocent to it? Know you can do this rlly good lovely — F1driverszona 🤍

i love f1driverszona so much!! hi bae this is for you :)

comments and replies are always appreciated!!

When you accepted the job, you knew the challenges you'd face wouldn't be easy. However, you never anticipated your boss being one of those challenges. Charles was never a difficult person; he was always easygoing and well-spoken. He only became difficult when he had his eyes set on a specific target—or in this case, a specific person. His last assistant had left for another job, leaving Charles with a significant position to fill. Interviewing hundreds of people day in and day out was exhausting, and he was honestly on the verge of promoting any random intern. But then, you walked in—hair flying, papers everywhere; in short, you looked like a hot mess. Yet, he couldn’t take his eyes off you.

Your looks weren’t the only thing that impressed Charles. Your CV was more than impressive, showcasing all the hard work you'd done. The sudden decision to hire you had tilted your world upside down. You went from living in a small apartment in a rather miserable neighborhood to residing in the country’s best penthouse. From day one, it was clear that your boss had a soft spot for you. You often got away with things others didn’t, like showing up to work late, leaving early, and skipping those horrible meetings. You were given all the liberties in the world, yet you never took advantage of them. This habit of yours often left Charles scratching his head, wondering why you never took advantage of his kindness and leniency.

Charles knew he'd had his eye on you since day one. Each day you walked into his office made him smile wider. Everyone around you both knew how captivated Charles was by you, yet you remained oblivious. It was hard to ignore the feelings you had for Charles, but for the sake of professionalism, you often suppressed them. It was challenging, especially considering how kind and handsome he was. His smile had you weak, and the veins in his arms, especially when he flexed, had you wondering how his hand would look wrapped around your neck—anyway. Charles always kept you on your toes with how he handled you. His hand would always find its way comfortably to the small of your back, or he'd always be hands-on, even for the smallest tasks.

One specific incident genuinely made you wonder if your boss had feelings for you. Charles never bothered you after work hours, as he was a gentleman. So when you picked up his call one evening and heard the blaring music from a club, you knew something was up. Before he spoke, you heard a very drunk Lando yelling, “Look at you, Charlie! Can’t even stay away from her for more than a couple of hours!” His reply would have made you swoon if only you understood French: “Mon bébé, je jure que je ferai de toi ma femme un jour, mon amour. J'aimerais pouvoir dire ça sobrement.” When you asked him the next day what he'd said, he simply brushed it off, saying he’d tell you when the time was right.

You had made the mistake of talking about Charles to your overly enthusiastic best friend, Eli. You'd always felt something odd when you were around Eli but brushed it off since he'd been in your life since you were five, and you weren't one to think poorly of people. Eli, who was oddly against your feelings for Charles, proposed a plan to get you two together by showing up at the Italian Grand Prix as your boyfriend to make Charles jealous. Though you had a bad feeling, you reluctantly agreed.

Monza was always magical, especially since you worked for Ferrari. You loved seeing how fans adored Charles and Carlos. You even joined the locals in praying for a Ferrari win, secretly hoping it would be Charles. When Charles qualified P4, everyone assumed it was because the car lacked pace. However, Charles was distracted by seeing you with Eli. It wasn’t the fact that you were with another guy—it was how uncomfortable you looked. Eli insisted that pretending to be your boyfriend meant he could touch and hold you as he pleased, making you so uncomfortable you wished you could disappear. He justified it as "part of the plan."

Race day was the first time you spoke to Charles again. His responses were curt and had an edge to them, which was unusual. All he wanted to do was pull you into his arms and kiss you before the race. Instead, you exchanged a meek, “Good luck, Charlie.” He simply nodded, determined to win for both of you.

When Charles miraculously won the race, his first thought was of you. He couldn’t wait to see you and planned to pull you into his arms and whisper the same words he’d said while drunk. This time, though, he was sure you would understand, as you now knew some French. Unfortunately, fate had other plans. The strange feeling you had around Eli turned out to be justified—he was trying to drug you, hoping to manipulate the situation to drive Charles away and take advantage of you himself.

Eli had been slipping drugs into the water you drank. He knew you didn’t drink alcohol and had to be creative. Midway through the race, you began to feel dizzy, struggling to focus. Around lap 45, you sensed something was seriously wrong, and luckily, Rebecca noticed too. When Eli left momentarily to fetch more "water," you encountered Rebecca, who saw how pale and clammy you were. She informed Andrea and took you to the medical center, where you eventually collapsed.

When Charles crossed the finish line, he was on an emotional high—until he heard what happened to you. Charles never saw himself as a violent man, but when he heard about Eli’s plan, he couldn’t hold back his fury. He confronted Eli, who confessed to his scheme. It was a stupid plan, one intended to tear apart two people who clearly belonged together. Charles’s only concern, however, was you. Seeing you quiet and still made him realize how much he depended on your presence.

You had been unconscious for eight hours and were taken to a nearby hospital for safety. When you finally woke, you felt a rough hand over yours. Charles had stayed by your side the entire time, his eyes tired yet softening as you stirred. Slowly, your memory returned, and so did the panic of recent events. It took Charles an hour to calm you down. A week later, Eli was arrested for his crimes, and Charles barely left your side. Later that week, he finally asked you out.

He wasn’t the smoothest, but he composed a song on the piano for you and played it as he invited you to a high-end restaurant you’d always dreamed of. Toward the end, he finally said the words in French that he’d kept close to his heart: “La dernière fois que j'ai eu le courage de te dire ces mots, j'étais ivre. Cette fois, je suis sobre, et je suis complètement amoureux de toi. S'il te plaît, sois mon amant?”

You simply replied, “J'ai toujours été à toi, Charlie. Tu m'as juste fait attendre." And that’s how, against all odds, you two finally found each other.

French to English :

"My baby, I swear that I’ll make you my wife one day, my love. I wish I could say this sober."

"The last time I had the courage to say these words to you, I was drunk. This time, I'm sober, and I'm completely in love with you. Please, be mine?"

"I've always been yours, Charlie. You just made me wait."

[ladybracknellssherry]

I see so many posts since the dam broke about NG in which people are lamenting how horrible celebrities and people in power are and asking where we went wrong as a society to let this happen.

The fucked up thing though is that humans have always behaved like this. We just have the internet now.

And please don’t mistake this for resignation or apathy or anything other than disgust.

But I just keep coming back to the point that human beings are capable of truly terrifying, horrible things.

So I feel like we’ve got to remember that most people don’t do terrible things. But we’re all capable of them.

And I don’t fault anyone for being devastated to learn that someone they respected did indeed to terrible things. It would feel wild to call someone foolish or stupid or naïve because their first instinct was to believe that someone is decent. They’re not anything like that other than someone who was lied to.

I actually do think as a society we are in fact getting better about calls for justice in situations like this.

But people who behave like NG…people who do these things…their personalities are a cancer. And we can do what we can to try to prevent things like this from happening. But I don’t think we can stop it all from happening. It’s never going to disappear completely.

But we can continue to listen to victims. And we can continue to be vocal about demanding justice and accountability.

The court of public opinion and the legal system both fail terribly at times, especially in situations like this. Another flaw of human nature, I think.

The “I’ll wait for the legal system to decide” argument isn’t really helpful here. Because SA allegations / abuse are some of the hardest things to prove in a court of law. And there have been legitimate actual cases in which victims have come forward with allegations, there was no evidence to be found/the evidence wasn’t “good enough” and these victims were instead actually CHARGED with filing false reports. So putting all of the onus or faith in the law here just… again… isn’t helpful.

Sometimes the justice can be best served by demanding consequences that aren’t legal punishments. There are petitions to remove NG from his positions as a writer/showrunner in these shows we love.

Sometimes just making sure the word is spread is the push to topple the dominos.

As others have said and continue to say, you can do both terrible and great things. And they don’t cancel each other out. Doing great things doesn’t make the terrible ones any less terrible. Doing terrible things doesn’t make the great things any less great. Two truths can exist at once.

Sure, we can argue that continuing to consume NG’s work is continuing to put money in his pocket. Yeah. But once again, as far as my random internet user opinion.

I experienced some very similar things to what his victims said they experienced in these interviews. And they wrecked my life in no uncertain terms. I’ll never “come back from that” because we don’t. We just keep going forward having to carry that. It doesn’t go away.

But my abusers took so much from me. And the good things I got out of those relationships are made so much more important because of how much suffering they cost.

Sidebar, but that’s something that I see people using in their arguments for why the “abuse” allegations weren’t real or “that bad.” Because the victims went back. Or they continued to stay. Or continued to pursue. Listen. When you go through all of THAT, it is so common to scramble to keep what you perceive are the “good things” you get out of that dynamic/relationship. Or you convince yourself that it’s not as bad as all that. Because, god. “I went through all of that and they STILL LEFT.” “I gave them (they took) all of THAT and I still wasn’t good enough for them.” It’s this survival element where we have to convince ourselves all of that suffering we went through was WORTH IT. Or, the gaslighting gets imbedded and we believe it must have been our fault. “Yes, they treated me badly, but I must have done something to deserve it. They told me it was my fault. Everyone else loves them. I did something wrong.” Yeah. NO.

So if you can separate yourself from that abuser - get far enough away to have the clarity and perspective to finally say “no, that was fucking real what happened. That was abuse. They’re an abuser.” I say, anything “good” you got out of that - take it and fucking run.

NG is a predator at best. And we are all suffering for it. But we got our books and our shows and we found each other in these fandoms. I say take these good things and run. You didn’t cause this. Don’t let him take any more joy from you or anyone else.

[brekker-by-brekkerr]

There's no way you can convince me the writing for Eloise in part 2 of season 3 was good.

We're expected to believe that Eloise Bridgerton, who gets so upset about injustices to women, who cares deeply for her friends, would hear about Cressida's issues and be like "hmm yeah sucks to suck."

And people can't say it's because Eloise is only concerned with herself because we've seen her get so upset about the plight of other people, we've seen her going and engaging with conversations outside her circle, we've seen her empathizing with Theo and his circumstances, we've seen her trying to hunt down LW to help Pen back before she knew the truth.

JUST THIS SEASON we saw Eloise go to Cressida's house to check on her because she noticed that she was acting off. So you can't even tell me Eloise doesn't care about her. I feel like the writers are trying to gaslight the viewers in part 2 to thinking Eloise didn't ever care that much about Cressida when WE LITERALLY SAW THAT SHE DID. Cressida even says Eloise was a great friend to her.

Yeah, I understand that Eloise has a lot going on right now, and so to some extent, I could see her not being as present for Cressida as she needs. That happens. But the level to which they made Eloise act like she doesn't care is so insane and is clearly just to prop Pen up.

Eloise heard Cressida tell her about her circumstances so she should understand why she's doing what she's doing.

It just felt like such an insane 180 for Eloise to turn around and suddenly be like "Cressida is a viper" and "our friendship was falling apart anyway" and "I should never have trusted her," when the last thing we saw before part 2 was them BEING GOOD FRIENDS!! And when Cressida hadn't done anything bad, she just claimed to be LW RIGHT AFTER she had explained to Eloise how messed up her circumstances were and that she needed help getting out of them.

I get that the show was going to put Eloise and Pen back together because they have such a clear bias towards her character, but did they have to decimate Creloise in the process? Is Eloise not allowed to have multiple friendships?

Like, Pen can do all these terrible things and cry and be like "sorry about that" and it's fine El and her can be besties everyone will love her and forgive her. But Cressida was sometimes mean (and the show goes to lengths to show us how she became that way, even explicitly spelling it out with her mother's comments about how she raised her to believe in "every woman for herself" AND shows Cressida acknowledging her mistakes and showing true change and growth) and lies about being LW and she's dragged through the dirt, she's "the absolute worst," every single character says awful things about her while we see snippets of her in this dark awful house with her life falling apart and this is supposed to be something we root for?? Literally why. Why even make Cressida sympathetic if this is what you're going to do with her.

It feels so out of pocket for Eloise to be saying Cressida is soo horrible and etc. etc. when we SAW their friendship before. We saw Cressida taking in what Eloise was saying and making changes, we saw Cressida challenging Eloise's beliefs and making Eloise self-reflect. Eloise got a peek into how awful Cressida's home life was and into the kind of good person Cressida could be and that's just suddenly thrown out the window with such little support to back it up.

Even if Creloise just HAD to stop being friends, weren't there better ways of going about it? Couldn't they at least have waited till after the fake LW paper came out bashing the Bridgertons for Eloise to break off the friendship? Yes, that was Cressida's mom writing that, but Eloise wouldn't know that and that would more logically line up with Eloise's random coldness towards her.

Still, why exactly do they have to stop being friends? Why can't Eloise have different kinds of friendships, especially one like hers with Cressida that challenged her, one where they mutually helped each other become better people? I love that Eloise is going to go off on this adventure to Scotland and meet other people but could she not also have retained her friendship with Cressida??

I would have loved to see the Eloise I know and love in part 2 teaming up with Cressida to help her, scheming together, doing everything in her power to help her bestie because that's who she is. That's what we should have seen. Maybe it would take her a second to get there, since she was already wrapped up in the drama with her brother and Pen, but she wouldn't just completely brush off her friend. She would do something.

And I could go on about how messed up it was for the writers to make it pretty clear how bad things have become for Cressida and then make her face the most consequences ever, while Pen gets to ride off into the sunset all happily ever after despite doing things 1000x worse than anything Cressida ever did. I'm actually disgusted.

[canihaveacalmtime]

Your first life was a life filled with sorrow and unfortunates with not just being treated badly in the family but also get look down by the servants. Even so, behind the image you put on every day, you were working hard to enhance your family image day by day with a fake identity.

You may fool yourself by saying you're doing all of this for your family because you love them a lot but in reality, you're just doing this because you love the life without your family, the life that you can freely decide your choices.

But you were a person born with bad luck, so even a day you deemed and thought would be peaceful and turn into the day your fate sealed. That day, while trying to protect your family from the assassins, you were killed.

You also thought that it was the end for you but when you open your eyes again, you saw familiar faces that, in your previous life, never looked at you so adoringly like that before.

It took you sometime but you realized that you were reincarnated and now living your second life, in the same family, with the same name but start all over as a baby. Remeber back then when you were born, your parents immediately look at you with disgust and send you to live in the servants' headquarters.

But look at them now! They're holding you in their arms and playing with you, even your brothers are trying to have their turn to hold you, with the amount of overwhelming differences, you forgot how to even act as a baby.

Time flies as you're now 10, over the years, you learned that your family reputation has never fallen, very unlike the previous life and they're also super adore you and protective too to the point you can even call it possessive. But with the years go on, you also learned how to begin making the giant line between you and your family, trying to avoid them more and more.

In your previous life, due to the neglect, you can freely do anything, leave and return anytime you want but those daily things back then are now very difficult to do because if you want to go out, you will go out with supervisor which is your brothers and you don't want that. So you begin writing daily in your dairy about your life as a reincarnated, your family and others around you and how horrible your previous life was.

Soon, you have to get a new book to write in and turn your old dairy into a reading book. Your grave mistake is that during tea time with your family, you forgot to bring your book with you and accidentally left it at the table when you return to your room. Your two curious brothers can't help themselves and decided to see what you've been reading these days, they soon realized the horrifying truth and hand the book to the parents.

Now that they all know, you wouldn't have to keep up the cold act anymore and can just bluntly show off your hate for them, thinking that your plan of leaving this family is now easier but is it?

On your 14th birthday, they bought a cake of your (F/C), you didn't really think much about anything or suspicious of them because they do this every year so as you were taking the last bite of your cake piece, everything around you goes black.

Every single day after that was nothing different from your previous life, all the tormenting, the horrible treatments and even occasionally beating. All of it hits at your weakest spot, your mental health, making you slowly go insane after just one year, sooner than they have expected.

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

After your death during the assassination, your family begin digging deeper into the info of those that attacked them and accidentally stumbled upon a shocking and horrifying discovery. The reason why they were still having a good life, living in good conditions and stay respected among the nobles was because of you.

Knowing that they have left a child surviving without care and love which should've been their responsibilities, the guilt has never been more immense.

Realizing in this second life they have been given another chance at redeeming themselves to be a better family, they take nothing for granted and give you as much love as possible. They didn't really mind much with your coldness as long as you're with them but after learned about the reason for your behaviors toward them, they knew that something must be change. You can't leave them like this, they can't let you leave them like this.

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

You were clinging onto your mother while she soothe your cries of pain, your brothers bandaging your bruised and wounded arms, and your father making sure that you swear to never leave them or you'll be punish again.

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

A/N: Sorry guys I'm really busy with school and other things right now so I can not write daily or often anymore 😔 and I don't think I put my mind into writing this one 💀