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onlyhereforthestories · 7 months ago

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Chica Medica - Part 6 (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

Okay, so the end of this has taken on a world of its own so I've split it into more parts so you get more frequent updates. We are very near the end now so buckle in for the final few parts. Also this outfit on Ale gets me everytime 😍

The first session back after the Christmas break felt different. The usual energy in the training facility was there; players catching up, coaches making rounds, but the tension between you and Alexia was undeniable. She had been avoiding you ever since the team returned from their respective holidays. You’d noticed the way her eyes barely met yours, the clipped tone in her voice when she answered your questions, and the way she seemed to disappear the moment the session ended.

It was driving you mad. After everything that had happened, the gift, the Instagram post, Alexia’s coldness towards you stung. You had thought the necklace meant something to her, but now you weren’t so sure. Maybe you had misread the entire situation. Maybe she had decided to push you away, after all.

After another training session where she barely acknowledged you, you decided you couldn’t let this go on any longer. If she was upset, if something had changed, you needed to know and you needed to know why. You had to understand what had happened between the two of you.

As the players filtered out of the gym, you approached her carefully, trying to mask the anxiety bubbling inside you. "Ale, can I talk to you for a minute? I need to go over some review forms with you for your progress this season. We can do it now if you have time."

Alexia’s body stiffened at the sound of your voice, and for a moment, you thought she was going to walk away. But instead, she turned around, her face cold and unreadable. "Fine," she said shortly. "Let’s get this over with."

You led her into the office, your heart racing in your chest. She sat down across from you, her arms crossed, her posture defensive. You could feel the distance between you, the walls she had put up since Dubai, and it was suffocating. How had you got to this point.

You cleared your throat, trying to keep things professional. "I just need to get your feedback on how you're feeling physically. Have you got any lingering injuries, anything we should keep an eye on for the rest of the season."

Alexia didn’t respond immediately. She just stared at you, her jaw tight, her eyes narrowed. The silence stretched on for too long, and the tension in the room became unbearable.

Finally, she spoke, her voice sharp and laced with frustration. "Are we really going to do this? Pretend like nothing happened?"

You blinked, caught off guard by her tone. "What do you mean?"

Alexia slammed her hand down on the table, her eyes blazing. "Don’t play dumb, Y/N. You know exactly what I’m talking about. All the messages, the gift, the way you made me feel... And then I see you with Leah. After everything, you go back to her."

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut. "Alexia, it’s not what you think—"

"Not what I think?" She cut you off, her voice rising. "I trusted you! I let you in, more than I’ve let anyone in for years. I told you things I haven’t told anyone since my dad died. I opened up to you because I thought we had something. And then I see you with her, like none of it mattered. Like I didn’t matter."

Her words hung heavy in the air, and you could see the pain in her eyes, the vulnerability that she was trying so hard to mask with anger.

"Alexia," you started, your voice soft, "Leah and I aren’t getting back together. That night, we were just talking. We needed to clear the air, to get some closure. I would never go back to her, not after everything we’ve been through."

Alexia stood up abruptly, pacing the small office. "Then why didn’t you tell me? Why did I have to see it through someone’s Instagram story? Why did you let me believe..." She trailed off, her hands trembling slightly as she turned to face you again.

You swallowed hard, standing as well, trying to close the distance between you. "I didn’t mean to hurt you. I thought you understood what the gift meant, what I was trying to say."

"The gift?" Alexia’s laugh was bitter, her eyes flashing with emotion. "Yeah, I thought I understood. I thought it was your way of saying that you felt the same. But now... I don’t know what to believe. I feel like I’ve been led on, like I was just someone you could toy with until something better came along."

Her voice cracked on the last words, and your heart broke seeing her like this, so guarded, so hurt.

"I didn’t lead you on," you said quietly, stepping closer to her. "I care about you, Ale. More than I’ve been able to put into words. I didn’t think... I didn’t realize how much this was affecting you. I should have told you everything sooner."

Alexia shook her head, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. "I haven’t felt this way about anyone, I don’t think ever. I haven’t let anyone in this much, and now I wish I hadn’t. I wish I had just kept my distance, because this... this hurts more than anything I’ve felt in a long time."

Her words hung in the air, raw and full of pain. You could see the regret in her eyes, the regret of trusting, of opening herself up to you, only to feel like she had been left behind.

You took a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. "I’m sorry, Alexia. I never wanted to hurt you. I never wanted you to feel like I didn’t care, because I do. I care about you more than you know."

For a moment, the room was silent, the tension between you thick and heavy. Alexia turned away from you, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

"I don’t know if I can do this anymore," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I don’t know if I can let you in again."

You felt a lump in your throat, unsure of what to say, unsure of how to fix what had been broken between you. But you knew one thing, you weren’t ready to give up, not yet.

"I’m not asking you to make a decision right now," you said softly, taking a step closer to her. "But please, just... don’t shut me out. Not like this."

Alexia stayed silent, her back still turned to you, the weight of everything she had said hanging heavily in the room. You could feel the distance between you, a chasm that had opened up, but you weren’t ready to let her go. Definitely not without a fight.

Months had passed since that tense confrontation in the office. The coldness between you and Alexia had grown into something you had never experienced before. Every interaction was brief, detached, and painfully professional. You felt the weight of her unspoken emotions in every glance she avoided and the way she seemed to slip away before you could even say goodbye after training.

Despite the distance, your feelings for Alexia hadn't faded. If anything, they had only continued to grow, but the space between you both felt greater with each passing day. The tension was thick, but you didn’t know how to bridge the gap.

Training sessions continued as usual, but you noticed Alexia had been pushing herself even harder as the season wore on. And then came the first leg of the Champions League quarterfinal against Wolfsburg.

The game had been brutal. Wolfsburg came out strong, overwhelming Barça with their physicality and relentless pressure. By the time the final whistle blew, Barcelona had lost 2-0. The entire team looked defeated, their heads hung low as they left the pitch. It wasn’t just the scoreline, it was the sense of being outplayed, of the fight slipping away. And with the second leg looming, the pressure was immense.

Alexia was one of the last to leave the field, her frustration clear. You watched her, torn between wanting to reach out and the fear of being pushed away yet again.

Later that evening, as the team had mostly dispersed and the changing room quieted down, you were preparing to leave when you heard familiar footsteps approaching from behind.

You turned, surprised to see Alexia standing in the doorway, her posture tense, her expression unreadable. She looked exhausted, both emotionally and physically drained.

"Can I talk to you?" she asked, her voice low and hesitant, as if the words were difficult to get out. You noted as well that she spoke without looking at you.

You blinked in surprise. After months of icy silence, this was the last thing you expected, but you nodded, your voice gentle. "Of course." You thought twice about adding the you can always talk to me, you didn’t want to push it.

She stepped into the room, closing the door behind her, and stood there for a moment, struggling to find the right words. The tension in the air was thick, almost suffocating, and you could tell something was weighing heavily on her.

"It’s all too much," Alexia finally said, her voice quiet but strained. "This... everything. I don’t know how much longer I can keep doing this."

You stayed silent, waiting for her to continue, giving her the space she needed to open up.

"The game today..." She shook her head in frustration, pacing the room. "It’s not just the loss. It’s everything that’s been building up. The pressure, the expectations, the weight of everyone thinking I should be carrying this team. And now, we’re down 2-0, and I don’t know how we’re going to turn it around. It feels like it’s all my fault."

Her voice cracked slightly, and you could see the vulnerability behind her words, the weight of the captaincy, the pressure of being the one everyone looked to when things went wrong. The public perception of her being the one that needs to do it all, even though there are 11 players playing each game.

She stopped pacing and looked at you, her eyes filled with frustration and something deeper. "And you..." she continued, her tone softening but still filled with hurt. "I’ve been avoiding you for months because I didn’t know how to handle everything I felt. After what I told you, I regretted opening up. I felt like you led me on, like I let myself get too close, only to see you with Leah and feel like it was all for nothing. Like we were nothing."

Your heart ached as you listened to her. You had known she was upset, but hearing her admit just how much she had been hurting hit harder than you expected.

"Alexia, I—"

"I haven’t let anyone in like that since my dad died," she interrupted, her voice breaking. "And when I finally did, you made me feel like I made a mistake. I haven’t felt that vulnerable in years, and I hate that I let myself care so much about someone who was still hung up on her ex."

You stepped closer, your heart heavy with guilt and concern. "I wasn’t leading you on, Ale. Leah and I were never getting back together, are never getting back together. We just needed to clear the air. I should have told you sooner, but I never want you to think I don’t care about you."

Alexia’s gaze flickered, the anger and frustration slowly giving way to the exhaustion that had been building inside her. "I miss talking to you. I miss... us. But I don’t know how to fix this. Theres this massive gap between us now and I don’t know how we close it."

You stepped even closer, your hand hovering near hers, unsure if she would accept your touch after months of distance. “There’s no gap that can’t be closed, Ale,” you said softly, your voice trembling slightly. “But we have to want to close it. I want to fix this with you.”

Alexia’s eyes flickered with uncertainty, her guard still up. “How?” she whispered, her voice raw with emotion. “How do we go back to... before?”

You took a deep breath, searching her face, seeing the exhaustion in the lines etched into her brow, the pain in her eyes. “We don’t go back,” you said, shaking your head. “We can’t. Too much has happened. But we can move forward. We can try again, take things one step at a time.”

Her gaze dropped to the floor, her jaw clenching as she wrestled with the emotions that had been bottled up for so long. “I don’t know if I can,” she admitted. “I don’t know if I can let my guard down like that again. Not after...”

“You can,” you interrupted gently. “You already did once, Ale. I know it’s terrifying, but you don’t have to do it alone this time. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. We’ll figure it out together.”

Her eyes finally met yours again, and you could see the cracks beginning to show in her hardened exterior. “But what if I do?” she asked, her voice trembling. “What if I push you away again?”

“You won’t,” you replied, your tone steady. “And even if you try, I’m not going to let you. Not this time.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The weight of the months of silence and hurt hung heavy in the air, but there was something different now, a fragile thread of hope, pulling you both together. Alexia’s defences were crumbling, bit by bit, and she was letting herself feel again, even if it scared her.

“You meant more to me than I let myself admit,” Alexia finally whispered, her voice barely audible. “And when I thought you were moving on, I didn’t know what to do with that. I didn’t know how to be anything other than... angry.”

You could feel the vulnerability in her words, and it broke your heart to know how much she had been hurting, how deeply she had internalised everything. “I was never moving on,” you said, shaking your head. “Not from you. I was just... figuring things out. Trying to make sure I could leave my past in the past before starting my future. But not having you to talk to... that hurt me too.”

Alexia nodded, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. She let out a shaky breath, her hands fidgeting slightly at her sides. “I’ve been holding onto this anger because it was easier than admitting I was scared. Scared of what it meant to care so much, to let someone in.”

You took a small step forward, closing the final distance between you, and cautiously reached out, gently taking her hand. To your relief, she didn’t pull away this time. Her fingers curled around yours, the touch hesitant but real.

“It’s okay to be scared,” you murmured, your thumb brushing over her knuckles in a soothing gesture. “I’m scared too. But that’s part of this, right? Taking the leap, even when it’s terrifying.”

Alexia’s breath hitched, and for a moment, she squeezed your hand tightly, as if grounding herself in the moment. Her voice was a whisper, full of uncertainty and emotion. “I don’t want to lose you.”

“You won’t,” you said, your voice steady and full of conviction. “I’m here, Ale. And I’m not going anywhere.”

She let out a shaky breath, her body relaxing slightly as she allowed herself to trust in your words. “I haven’t felt this close to anyone since my dad died,” she admitted softly. “And it scared me how much I needed you.”

Her words broke the last piece of tension between you, and you stepped even closer, gently pulling her into your arms. She hesitated for only a second before she leaned into you, her body melting against yours as if finally allowing herself to feel the comfort she had been denying for so long.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered into your shoulder, her voice thick with emotion. “For shutting you out. For everything.”

You held her tightly, your hand gently rubbing her back in slow circles. “I’m sorry too. We’ll work through it,” you whispered, your voice soft but full of promise. “We’ll get through this together.”

For the first time in months, the tension between you eased, and Alexia’s walls came down completely. She rested her forehead against your shoulder, her breath steadying as she let herself be vulnerable with you.

After what felt like an eternity, Alexia pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. Her expression was softer now, the anger and frustration replaced with something else, something deeper. “I miss us,” she whispered, her eyes searching yours. “I miss... this.”

You smiled gently, your hand brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “So do I.”

For the first time in what felt like ages, Alexia smiled, it was small, hesitant, but real. The gap between you wasn’t gone, but you were starting to build the bridge. Slowly, carefully, but surely and together.

The atmosphere inside Camp Nou was electric. The roar of the fans echoed throughout the stadium as you sat on the bench, your eyes fixed on the pitch. This was it, the second leg of the Champions League quarterfinal against Wolfsburg. After a 2-0 loss in the first leg, the pressure was on, but there was a quiet determination in the air. The team knew what was at stake, and you could feel it in every passing glance, every focused expression. Tonight felt different to the last match against Wolfsburg, it felt like the girls had all taken the loss personally and were out for redemption.

From your position on the bench, you watched as the girls took their places dotted around the field. Aitana, Caro, Jenni, and Alexia stood at the ready, their eyes locked on the opposition, the tension almost palpable. Your heart raced in sync with the crowd’s chants, well until your heartbeat grew so loud in your ears that you could barely here the girls on the bench next to you. Tonight wasn’t just about advancing to the semifinals; it was about proving to the world that loss was a small blip.

The whistle blew and within minutes, the tension began to ease. Aitana, always so composed on and off the ball, burst forward and connected perfectly with the ball. In just three minutes, she had found the back of the net. The stadium erupted, and the weight of the first-leg defeat seemed to lift, even if only slightly.

You smiled, feeling some of the tension in your own chest loosen. It was the perfect start, exactly what the team needed. You glanced toward the pitch, where Alexia stood with her teammates, a fire in her eyes that hadn’t dimmed despite everything she had been through.

Ten minutes later, Caro added to the tally with a brilliant finish, sending the crowd into another wave of celebration. The momentum was shifting, and you could see the belief growing stronger with each pass.

As the game neared the half-hour mark, Barcelona were relentless. They pressed higher and higher, refusing to give Wolfsburg a moment to breathe. Then, in the 33rd minute, Jenni Hermoso received a perfect cross into the box and, with her trademark composure, slotted it home.

3-0.

The roar of the crowd was deafening. You could feel the surge of energy coursing through the team, and yet, your focus kept drifting to Alexia. She was commanding the midfield with a quiet intensity, orchestrating every movement, every attack. And she looked really good doing it, although you would not ever share that thought with anyone except maybe her.

And then, just five minutes later, in the 38th minute, it happened. A sharp pass from Aitana found Alexia on the edge of the box. With a quick touch to control, she unleashed a precise strike that soared into the top corner of the net.

4-0.

The stadium erupted in a frenzy, but in that moment, everything around you seemed to blur. Alexia, breathless and triumphant, turned toward the bench, her eyes finding yours. The relief was clear, the weight of months of tension visibly lifting from her shoulders. In that brief second, you shared a silent exchange, a connection that had been buried under layers of misunderstanding and distance. Her eyes said it all without any words needing to be uttered. Thank you, I needed this.

You smiled, your heart swelling with pride for her. This was the Alexia you knew, the one who carried the weight of the team but had finally found a way to let go of some of that burden. To find the joy in the game that she really loved to play.

The game pressed on, Barcelona in full control. Wolfsburg tried to push back and did get a goal, but the momentum had shifted irreversibly. As the clock ticked down, Barça kept up the pressure, refusing to let Wolfsburg find any momentum after the goal.

Then, with just minutes left on the clock, Barcelona were awarded a penalty. The crowd held its breath as Alexia stepped up to take it, the ball resting at her feet. The stadium fell into a tense silence, the kind that only a moment like this can create.

You watched closely, your heart in your throat. Alexia stood over the ball, calm and collected. Then, with the same precision you had seen from her countless times, she sent the keeper the wrong way and buried the penalty in the bottom corner.

5-1 on the night. 5-3 on aggregate.

The roar of the crowd was deafening, a wave of relief and celebration sweeping through the stadium. Barcelona had done it. They had pulled off the comeback, securing their place in the Champions League semifinals. The players on the bench jumped to their feet, cheering, hugging, and celebrating the incredible turnaround.

But your eyes were still on Alexia. As she celebrated with her teammates, a weight seemed to lift from her entirely. The game had been a battle, both on the field and inside her heart, but tonight, she had won on both fronts.

As the final whistle blew, confirming Barca’s 5-1 victory on the night, you stood from the bench, your heart pounding with pride, relief, and something deeper. The crowd was in full voice, chanting Alexia’s name, and you couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by everything she had accomplished, not just with the team, but for herself.

Alexia glanced back at you one last time before the celebrations truly kicked off on the pitch. This time, there was no hesitation, no doubt in her eyes. Just relief, pride, and maybe, just maybe, a flicker of something hopeful.

The celebrations were in full swing. The team had gathered at a private club, the sounds of laughter, music, and excitement filling the space. After the dramatic 5-1 win over Wolfsburg, it was time to celebrate not just the victory, but the resilience and unity that had brought the team back from the brink.

Everyone was buzzing, adrenaline still high from the match. Drinks were flowing, and the room was alive with the chatter of teammates recounting the goals, the tension, and the triumph of the night. You sat in a booth toward the back of the room, watching the team’s joy unfold around you. It was one of those rare moments when everything just felt right, well at least when it came to the team.

But there was another reason your heart raced tonight, and it had nothing to do with the match. It had everything to do with Alexia.

You had caught glimpses of her throughout the night, her laughter mingling with the music, her smile wide and free as she embraced her teammates. But every now and then, her eyes would find yours across the room. There was a warmth in her gaze that hadn’t been there for months, and every time it happened, you felt the invisible thread pulling the two of you closer.

As you took another sip of your drink, trying to shake off the nerves bubbling in your chest, you noticed Alexia making her way across the room. She moved through the crowd with that calm confidence she always carried, but this time, her destination was clear, she was headed straight for you.

Your heart thudded in your chest as she approached, her eyes never leaving yours. When she reached the booth you were in, she paused for just a moment, glancing at the player sitting next to you, Claudia, who had been laughing at something Patri had said.

"Mind if I sit here?" Alexia asked, her voice soft but firm making it very clear what she wanted even if she had phrased it as a question.

Claudia glanced up a bit surprised, but not one to argue with her team captain. She smiled at Alexia and nodded, quickly sliding out of the booth to make room and grabbing Patri’s hand as she did dragging the woman with her. "All yours, Capitana."

You could barely suppress the smile tugging at your lips as Alexia slid into the booth beside you, close enough that her thigh brushed against yours. The warmth of her body sent a jolt through you, but you tried to play it cool, glancing at her with a casual smile.

"How are you feeling after that performance?" you asked, trying to mask the nervous energy that had crept in.

Alexia smiled, that familiar spark in her eyes that you hadn’t seen in so long. "Relieved," she admitted, her voice low so only you could hear. "And exhausted."

You chuckled, nodding. "You deserve to relax after tonight. You were incredible out there."

Her eyes softened at your words, and for a moment, the noise of the party seemed to fade into the background. It was just the two of you, sitting close, sharing the relief of the night’s victory, and happy that the months of tension between you was slowly melting away.

Alexia shifted slightly, her leg pressing more firmly against yours as she leaned in, her voice barely above a whisper. "I missed this."

Your heart skipped a beat, but you managed to keep your voice steady. "I missed it, too."

She looked at you, her eyes searching yours, as if she was trying to find the right words. The playful, teasing glances from earlier had been replaced with something more genuine, more vulnerable.

"I’ve been thinking," she began, her fingers playing absentmindedly with the edge of her glass. "About everything that’s happened. About us."

You held your breath, not wanting to interrupt her train of thought.

Alexia took a deep breath before continuing, her voice quieter now. "I didn’t know how to face you after everything. It was easier to avoid it, to push you away. But... that just made everything worse."

You swallowed hard, the weight of her words hanging between you. "You don’t have to apologize, Ale. I know it’s been difficult. I should’ve been clearer with everything. I should have been more upfront about Leah, about how I feel."

Her eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place. "How do you feel?"

You hesitated for just a moment, then met her gaze, deciding it was time to be honest. "I care about you, Alexia. A lot. And it wasn’t just about the work, or the physio sessions, or even the football. I care about you."

Her breath caught, and for a moment, you saw the same vulnerability in her eyes that she had shown after the loss to Wolfsburg. The walls she had built between you were slowly crumbling, and now, sitting so close, the months of distance between you felt like they were finally closing.

Alexia smiled softly, her hand finding yours under the table. She didn’t say anything at first and she didn’t need to. The simple act of reaching out, of closing that physical gap, spoke volumes.

The room around you buzzed with the energy of celebration, but for you and Alexia, the noise had become background static. All that mattered was the connection between you, the understanding that despite everything, you were still here, still close. That there was still something there to explore.

"Thank you," Alexia finally whispered, her thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "For being there. Even when I pushed you away."

You squeezed her hand gently. "I’m not going anywhere."

Her eyes met yours again, and this time, there was no hesitation, no doubt. Just the quiet promise of something that had been waiting to be said for months, now slowly beginning to surface.

The celebration carried on around you, but you and Alexia remained in your little bubble at the booth. Her leg was pressed against yours, and her hand occasionally found yours under the table, both of you taking comfort in the quiet connection that had begun to rebuild.

It was only a matter of time before someone noticed. And, unsurprisingly, that someone was Mapi.

From the corner of your eye, you saw her making her way toward you, a mischievous glint in her eyes. Leila followed close behind, a grin already forming as they approached your booth. The second Mapi spotted the two of you sitting close together, she raised an eyebrow, her teasing smirk unmistakable.

"Well, well, well," Mapi drawled, crossing her arms as she came to stand beside the table. "What do we have here? Cozying up after a big win, huh? Looks like more than just the game turned around tonight."

Alexia shot Mapi a warning look, but her lips twitched with amusement. You felt a flush creep up your neck as you glanced between them, unsure whether to laugh or feel embarrassed.

"Mapi," Alexia warned lightly, though there was a smile threatening to break through.

But Mapi wasn’t done. She wiggled her eyebrows, clearly enjoying herself. "I knew something was up when Claudia said you asked for some time in the booth without others. Didn’t think you’d be making moves this fast, though Ale. Capitana’s got game on and off the pitch, huh?"

Before you could respond, Leila, having been quietly observing, stepped in. She gave Mapi a pointed look before swatting her on the back of the head. "Cut it out, idiot. Now’s not the time."

Mapi yelped, rubbing the back of her head in mock outrage. "Hey! What was that for?"

"For being a pain," Leila deadpanned, her eyes darting between you and Alexia, clearly sensing that this wasn’t just light-hearted fun. "Come on, leave them alone."

Mapi looked between you and Alexia again, her expression softening as she realized Leila was right. "Fine, fine," she muttered, though the teasing smile never quite left her face. "But just remember, Ale, I’m watching you." She pointed her fingers at her own eyes, then back at Alexia’s, as if to say she was keeping an eye on things.

Leila rolled her eyes and dragged Mapi away by the arm, pulling her back toward the dance floor where the rest of the team was letting loose. Mapi threw one last cheeky grin over her shoulder as she let herself be pulled into the chaos of the celebration.

Alexia shook her head, chuckling under her breath. "She never lets up, does she?"

You smiled, the tension from the teasing already dissipating. "Not even for a second."

But as Mapi and Leila disappeared into the crowd, the quietness returned between you and Alexia. It was as if, for a moment, nothing had changed. The warmth of her presence, the way she leaned into you, it was all still there, unspoken yet undeniable.

Alexia glanced over at you, her eyes soft with affection and amusement. "I should have known Mapi would notice."

You laughed softly, leaning in just slightly. "I think the whole team’s going to notice eventually."

Alexia smiled at that, the corner of her mouth lifting in that way that made your heart flutter. "Let them. I’m not hiding anything." Alexia’s hand slipped into yours under the table once again, her touch gentle but steady, like the wave that had always connected you.

The tension that had once defined your relationship with Alexia was beginning to melt away. After the celebration following the comeback win against Wolfsburg, something had shifted between you. The stolen glances, the shared smiles, the quiet conversations. They were all part of the rhythm you and Alexia had started to fall into, like finding your way back to something that had always been there, that was just waiting for the right moment.

A few days after the match, with the team preparing for the final of the Champions League, Alexia had sent you a text. Simple, to the point, but it had made your heart skip a beat all the same.

Coffee after training tomorrow?

It wasn’t exactly a grand gesture, but it was the kind of thing you had been hoping for, something normal, something easy, something for just the two of you.

The next afternoon, training wrapped up, and the usual buzz of the team filled the air as everyone began to drift toward their cars. You spotted Alexia across the car park, pulling her bag over her shoulder and heading in your direction. She gave you a small smile, one that made your stomach do a little flip, and you smiled back, trying to hide the nerves fluttering inside you.

A short walk from the training grounds, tucked away in a quieter part of the city, was a small café Alexia had mentioned a few times before. It was one of her favourites because she found it charming and cozy. It was a small whole in the wall shop with a few tables lining the windows and a barista who already knew her order by heart.

When the two of you walked inside, Alexia nodded to the barista, exchanging a familiar smile. "Dos cafés, por favor."

You found a table by the window, the late afternoon sunlight spilling in and casting a warm glow over the café. It felt easy, sitting there with Alexia, even with the unspoken weight of everything that had happened in the past months. Somehow, that weight seemed lighter now.

As you both sat down with your coffees, you couldn’t help but smile. "So, is this the famous café you’ve been talking about all season?"

Alexia chuckled, her eyes bright as she took a sip of her coffee. "This is the one. Best coffee in Barcelona, in my opinion."

You raised an eyebrow, taking a sip from your own cup. "I have to admit, it’s good. I can see why you’re a regular."

The conversation flowed easily, both of you falling into a natural rhythm. You talked about the upcoming matches, about the team, about the Champions League final that seemed to be looming on the horizon. But every now and then, the conversation would drift to lighter things like your favourite places in Barcelona, stories from when you first started working with the team, and little tales about the players that made you both laugh.

At one point, Alexia leaned back in her chair, her gaze soft as she looked at you. "It’s nice, this. Just being here with you."

Her words made your heart flutter, and you could feel a warmth creeping into your cheeks. "Yeah," you agreed softly. "It is."

There was a quiet between you for a moment, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of quiet that comes when everything feels right, like you don’t need to fill the space with words.

Alexia’s fingers gently brushed against yours on the table, a subtle but meaningful gesture. You smiled at her, feeling the connection between you strengthen with every shared glance, every light touch. It was simple, but it felt important.

As you finished your coffees, Alexia glanced at her phone, checking the time. "We should probably head back soon," she said with a small sigh, though there was a playful glint in her eyes. "Can’t be late to the next team meeting."

You nodded, not wanting the moment to end but knowing that the world of football never truly stopped. "True, but this was nice. We should do it again sometime."

Alexia smiled, standing up and offering you her hand. "How about dinner next time?"

You felt your heart swell at her words but kept your voice steady. "Sounds perfect."

Over the next few weeks, as the games piled up and the pressure built toward the Champions League final, you and Alexia carved out little moments like that coffee date. There were lunches after training, quiet dinners at out-of-the-way restaurants, and even the occasional late-night walk when the city was quiet and still.

Each date felt like another step forward, a chance to know each other outside the pressure of the pitch and the weight of expectations. It wasn’t rushed, it was comfortable, like two people rediscovering something that had always been there, but they hadn’t taken time to fully realise it.

One evening, just a few days before the final, you and Alexia found yourselves at a small tapas restaurant, tucked away in one of Barcelona’s quieter neighbourhoods. The evening air was warm, there was a soft murmur of the city around you as you shared a meal, laughing and talking like you had known each other for years.

At one point, Alexia reached across the table, her hand covering yours. "You’ve been amazing these past few months," she said softly, her eyes meeting yours. "I know I wasn’t easy to be around, but... I’m really glad we’re here now."

You squeezed her hand gently, your heart swelling with affection. "I’m glad too."

It was in these quiet moments, between games and team obligations, that the relationship between you and Alexia grew. It was no longer weighed down by misunderstandings or hesitation, now it was just two people, finally allowing themselves to enjoy the moments they shared.

As the final approached, the nerves and excitement would soon return, but for now, in the warmth of the evening, everything felt right.

#woso x reader #woso imagines #woso imagine #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas imagines

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darlingdaisyfarm · 29 days ago

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A thought I’d like to share:

Imagine Ford proposing to you except it’s young/pre portal! Ford.

He takes you out to a nice restaurant and the poor dude can’t relax, like all. He’s bright red and keeps fidgeting with the ring box in his pocket, meanwhile you’re just staring at him from across the table with a concerned look and keep asking him if he’s okay. Poor guy can’t even think straight, seeing you in a stunning outfit that he definitely picked out for you, and all he can think about is making you his spouse and kissing you silly.

Eventually when he does propose it starts as something science-y and profound (he wrote it down and practiced) but the poor guy ends up tripping over his words and ends up just blurting out the question. Once you say yes he gives you the deepest most passionate kiss he can muster until you’re dam near seeing stars.

After dinner is done he scoops you up the second you get out of the restaurant and takes you back to his car where he once again kisses you silly. The wedding is supposed to be scheduled after the portals completion but it never happens for obvious reasons, except once he gets back and post weirdmageddon you two reconnect again, somehow, and he finds out you kept the ring he gave you. The ring, by the way, is made of some crazy alien material but it’s like..crazy beautiful and also matches your eyes. Anyways cue wedding organized by Mabel and your two of you finally get your happy ending.

I know this is long and crazy tooth rotting fluff but I want to kiss him so bad it’s insane

(P.s-I feel like Stan would be the type to either say “you’re my wife/husband/spouse now” with no further explanation OR also stumble over his words similarly to when he tried to flirt with Lazy Susan)

Also I read your most recent post about having a Stan fic in the works and the first time I read it I misread “Stan” as “Satan” and just accepted it

aaAAA YES YES YES im gonna cry because i too want to kiss him so bad it’s kind of ruining my life

everything is sfw here but ill anyways hide it because i talked too much, sorry i just love it

first of all, Ford and Dipper making “plan lists” with bullet points like “ask them about their day” and “don’t forget eye contact” is SOOO real. “ah yes! rehearse my conversations like they’re mission briefings”, the clipboard is shaking in his hand, Ford is clearing his throat every two seconds trying not to look like a nerd and failing miserably

and you just sit there smiling because you know, you always know, you’ve seen him like this before, all flustered and over-calculating and cute as hell, and every time it just makes you wanna grab his face and kiss his stupid genius forehead

yes, this man definitely planned everything. Ford reserved the restaurant three weeks in advance. he absolutely picked the outfit for you, “as a surprise!”, “i saw this in a shop window and thought it might be. . . flattering to your uh, body?,” meanwhile he’s been daydreaming about how you’d look in it for weeks. Ford nearly passes out when when you wear it, walking out of the room

he keeps checking his pocket every second, afraid the ring's gonna mysteriously disappear. god, he had a speech, a beautiful, sprawling, poetic thing about quantum entanglement and soul mates and probability curves and how the odds of finding someone like you were incalculably rare. and he practiced it in the mirror. but none of it makes sense or works when he’s there across from you, trying not to let the little velvet box burn a hole in his pocket

you ask “are you okay, sweetheart?” and Ford wants to run away because he's literally dying from anxiety. Ford needs a shower, more than one, even if he despises them. he’s sweating, knees weak and all his academic vocabulary just vanishes. and he blurts it out finally, “will you marry me— i mean, i want you to—uh, i have a whole speech! just, wait, n-no, say yes first??”

you barely let him finish, saying “yes Ford oh my god of course i will marry you” although you're no better than him, almost choking on your saliva from excitement and happiness. ohhh the kiss, the KISS that follows, Stanford surges over the table, turning off his ever-working brain for the first time in so long. hands trembling, glasses askew, but it’s all feeling, finally letting himself have what he’s always been too scared to want. he’s chosen you, and you’ve chosen him, and he can’t believe it’s real

(id like to add that if kiss happens in the restaurant, then the whole place claps and some peeps are sitting with “😧😧” faces but Ford doesn't notice. HE ONLY SEES YOU)

my heart is broken though :(( the wedding that was supposed to happen but doesn’t, because gravity falls fandom is allergic to happiness! tragedy and science and destiny and fear— and YET!! his sweetheart keeps the ring. the weird alien ring that shimmers, and it matches your eyes because he designed it that way. Ford studied the spectrum of your irises. he matched it to a metal from a planet he swore he’d never forget

you still have the ring, wore it on a chain, you kept it safe. and when Ford sees the glint of alien gemstone, he just falls apart, his knees go weak all over again, just like 30 years ago. he doesn't know how to ask “you kept it? after all these years ?” without bursting into tears in front of his love. feeling emotional as well, you gift him a kiss on the cheek, staring into his brown eyes that have held onto their love, even after three decades lost in other worlds

oh emotional rollercoaster, from fluff to angst and now back to fluff, thanks anon :'')

so.. Mabel organizing your post-apocalypse wedding with, of course, glitter, rainbow themes, FLOWER CROWNS (need Ford in one), and a playlist that includes both classical violin and her favorite boy bands because “you’re old but you’re still in love and that’s what matters guys!” (Ford has to be dragged out of the lab three separate times but he makes it)

and this time, when he says “i do, my love,” he doesn’t trip over a single word.

and you, standing there, marrying the man who once shook through a speech because he loved you too much to say it right.

🫠🫠🫠

and YES to the Stan sidenote, btw!

i could talk about Stanley forever and ever but i’m pretty sure this ask is meant to be Ford-centric! but he’s absolutely the “you’re my spouse now, deal with it” type.

“hey, uh, so—uh, if you want. i mean you don’t have to, but like, technically, would you maybe wanna—be married? to me?? but it’s fine if not. totally cool. i mean i got a ring but, uh—where are you going?”

i love this ask so much

#answered asks #ford pines #ford pines x you #ford pines x reader #stanford pines x reader #stanford pines x you

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howlsofbloodhounds · 9 months ago

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Is yugo a proshipper/neutral? Genuine question because they’ve done some… questionable things in the past (shipping frans, using slurs they can’t claim in a comic (the f slur).

I mean I came across a post that said they were pretty chill with someone shipping epic with freaking Xgaster in march of this year and I was like??????? (Dude?? 1. That guy is an alternate version of your abusive father. 2. He’s basically Cross’s father (y’know your canonical best friend?) who also abused by him. like what????)

(here the link btw https://www.tumblr.com/yugogeer012/745992208927293440/im-very-interested-in-how-yugo-reacts-to-the-fact?source=share )

And I find it weird that they seem to chill about that, but if you try and bring up epic in any way possible they lose it since they have unbridled hatred towards him and his fans. (bonus points when someone talks about shipping epic and cross, heck shipping epic with anyone male tends to make them annoyed, despite some early art depicting epic FLIRTING WITH METTATON)

(also here the link: https://www.tumblr.com/sanicpluushy/761634810556039168/can-we-see-epicsans-flirtin-i-do-imagine?source=share ,

and my thoughts : https://www.tumblr.com/talonsirgo/761779011986800640/this-is-even-funnier-when-you-scroll-down-to?source=share)

I'm pretty sure they wiped Epic and his papyrus out of the comic just so they wouldn't have to deal with them anymore.

At this point i've already blocked them for their hostility towards all things epic/epic being gay/shipping him with xgaster and the whole frans stuff. I mean dude, even comyet is grossed out by anyone trying to ship ink with a gaster or his fathers (who are gasters and aren't even related by blood. Not that it matter tho, it's stil gross).

Come on yugo. You're better than this

(oooh btw did you se my where i @ you?? I found some pretty interesting analysis on cross thats been agreed upon by jakie herself, unfortunately it was done by the creator of dreamswap eugh.)

I don’t know if they are or not, because shipping Frans (or used to) and using f slurs while they actively seem to really really hate any gay ships but is very okay with lesbian ships seems a little strange. Potentially fetishizing perhaps, although maybe they’re just annoyed if they were constantly bombarded with sans x sans questions and stuff.

I don’t know Yugo, haven’t finished reading any of the Epictale content and i haven’t scrolled all through the blog, so I can’t say for sure. Maybe someone with more knowledge on this can chime in.

Although, after reading one of the links you sent me, i think you might’ve misread something.

The asker and yugo didn’t say they shipped Epic x XGaster or were okay with that, they say were okay with Epic Gaster x XGaster. No alternative sons being shipped with alternative fathers, although DILFs (im using this word just because they are both fathers not because i personally want to fuck them 💀) who are the same person are being shipped and yugo at least doesn’t mind or doesn’t care.

I don’t know what their issue is with their own characters and people liking them, but I think yugo probably needs to set some boundaries with fans if they haven’t already.

rather than getting annoyed when people inevitably ship best friends and one of them is their character who they make flirt with men, perhaps they should just ask people to not send them questions about sans x sans ships, or crepic if it really makes them that uncomfortable. and if anyone does, just delete the asks or comments or reblogs.

getting annoyed when people bring up or ask about the characters you made seems pretty strange to me, it’s just a sign that people really like your character enough to be obsessed with them, but i can understand if they got annoyed if epic was all anyone focused on and not any of the other characters. but in that case, they should probably just delete anything they get about epic (from fans) they don’t want to see or answer.

but to allow your emotions and fans like of your character to cause you to change a story, or erase or get rid of the character, just to spite the fans/character or just so you don’t have to deal with them seems very odd to me. perhaps yugo needs to take a step back from the Epictale “fanbase” and stop engaging with it.

they can’t control what fans do with their work and characters as soon as it leaves their own eyesight, and they’d be better off not stressing over it. and fans should respect them, and stop bringing fandom stuff to them like ships or asking their opinions on ships—no one needs a creator’s opinion on a ship.

epic is a different thing, since he’s literally a character in the story, and a sans at that—which of course means people will bring him up and ask about him. if they don’t want to answer anything about epic, they should make that very clear and then don’t answer. Not answer just to give annoyed, passive aggressive replies. I think it’s sad when creators allow a fanbase to taint and affect their feelings about their work.

{ @talonsirgo }

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tsuiioku · 1 year ago

Text

— 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝖇𝖊𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖘 .ᐟ · 𝔬𝔰𝔞𝔪𝔲 𝔡𝔞𝔷𝔞𝔦 ༉‧₊˚

𝖘𝖚𝖇𝖒𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖗𝖊𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖘𝖙 𝖋𝖗𝖔𝖒 𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖞𝖒𝖔𝖚𝖘 ⇢ "I have an idea maybe a old bookstore date with Dazai would be so cool :D"

𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙. f!reader. tooth-rotting fluff. established relationships. forehead kisses, teasing, quiant bookstores cuddling, romance. dazai is a menace to society, but secretly soft. not proofread. 1.4k+ words.

𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗'𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊. this was the request i accidentally misread in this post. so sorry! it's been months since this was placed in my inbox, but i haven't been able to get around to requests in a while. thank you for patiently waiting, and i hope you enjoy! ٩(^ᗜ^ )و

would you like to see more? fill out the taglist or comment under this post.

𝖘𝖞𝖓𝖔𝖕𝖘𝖎𝖘. an earthy aroma permeated through the air, a collection of different smells gathered from every page and cover as the warmth of the room clashed with a battering from a faltering AC unit that kicked on and off.

OR you drag your boyfriend into a bookstore, and shenanigans ensue.

The devilish brunette dared to chuckle under his breath, head held high as he paraded you down the street, hand-in-hand. For someone who had been the brunt of a heavy lecture by the agency's resident stickler, he was in a delightful mood. Not that Kunikida's scolding had ever been able to properly put Dazai in his place.

You had entered the office after an extended morning mission, only to be dragged out again; the only clue to your sudden kidnapping was the twitch of Kunikida's brow as you were flung out the door, clueless to the occurrences that had occurred moments prior. When questioning Dazai about it, he simply met your inquiries with a cat-like grin.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

You deadpanned at his obvious avoidance of the question, though quickly relented to his schemes. If there was one thing anyone knew about Osamu Dazai, it was that he always got his way, one way or another. And it was rare to have any time off, so you decided not to think about whatever strings he pulled and enjoy your time together.

You scrolled through the map on your phone, lips pursed. "Has anything new opened recently?"

"You know, we could just—"

"And no," you cut him off, striking him with your eyes. "We are not jumping off another bridge. You remember what happened the last time you decided to test gravity?"

He pouted, bottom lip jutting out. "It's not my fault. The bridge was higher than it looked."

You rolled your eyes. Dazai was such a man-child sometimes.

He perked up, his eyes sparkling. "What about that ramen shop down the road?"

"No," you grimaced, nose shriveling. "They have flies."

"The bar on the corner?"

You shook your head. "Too many rowdy guys."

He whined, flailing his arms into the air. "I give up! Just tell me—"

Only to realize that you were no longer walking beside him. He paused, staring at the empty space before his eyes dotted back. You had stopped before a window, eyes wandering across the inside of what he had surmised to be an old bookstore. He froze as you glanced up at him—he knew that look.

"No, no, no!"

RING!

He cried out for anyone to help as he was dragged inside, acting more like a toddler than a loving boyfriend as he clawed at the doorframe, only to be pulled in inevitably. The older woman at the register stared incredulously at your odd behavior, though you had long become accustomed to the stares you received in public with Dazai.

"I don't wanna go!"

"Calm down!" You pushed him into a chair in the corner with every ounce of strength. "Stay right here. I'll only be a minute."

He groaned, flopping back into the chair with a brilliance only someone in theater could muster, legs swinging over the arms of the chair as he continued to gripe to himself. You hid your laughter behind your palm, lest you incur his infantile wrath, walking into the next aisle.

He didn't want to admit that this store was quite lovely. An earthy aroma permeated through the air, a collection of different smells gathered from every page and cover as the warmth of the room clashed with a battering from a faltering AC unit that kicked on and off. And it was tranquil, not eerily so, but a stark contrast from the loud traffic outside, especially since no one else was around. It was a quaint little store that was an obvious magnet for little bookworms like yourself.

As the seconds flew by, Dazai tapped his foot to the beat of an ancient cuckoo clock that stared at him from the wall. Minutes passed, his head lolling back against the head of the chair, breath pacing to a slow point.

CUCKOO!

He had no time to brace himself, startling as he tumbled out of the chair with a thud. His groans were the accompanying chorus to the clock, which he stared at in scorn. Damn. It had already been forty minutes. What were you doing? Even through the tinted windows of the store, it was clear that the sun had begun its descent in between surrounding buildings.

He pulled himself from the uncomfortable floor and started his search, but it didn't take any time at all to find you.

"There she is."

He was about to call out, but his complaint became lodged in his throat. Instead, he hid in the next aisle, peeking between the cracks of another bookshelf. It seemed that you hadn't noticed time had passed at all, eyes glued onto the page of the book cradled in your hands. In fact, several other books were stacked next to you on the floor, awaiting your watchful eyes. Your expression could only be described as a kiss upon a cloud, fingers nestling the pages of the book with such care, eyes scanning every word as you intended to soak the story in.

A part of him felt jealous. How could an inanimate object take up so much of your time? Time that was supposed to be focused on him! But there was another part of him; he couldn't quite place it.

You finally spotted him as he rounded the corner, sparing a glance at one of the clocks as the realization struck you, turning back with a crooked smile.

"Sorry. I lost track of time."

"Here." His fingers braced against your shoulders, carefully prying your aching back from the unforgiving bookshelves as he settled in behind you, much to your surprise. "That's better."

"D-Dazai, what're you—?"

"So, what's this one about?" His arms slung around your waist, practically a second nature for him as he enfolded you in a koala-like embrace, your back snug against his chest.

You only blinked, and a knowing smirk grew on his lips. "Use your words, love."

You sputtered, slapping his arm with the book before managing to settle yourself, stifling the heat that threatened to take over your whole body.

"It's a romance novel."

He raised a brow. "Romance?" He chuckled, and you did not want to address the way the low timber of his voice made your limbs turn to mush. "While I am an expert in the field, I would love to hear what seems to strike your particular fancy."

But you met him with hesitation. "Are you sure?"

"What?" he cooed, his nose nuzzling into your neck, the warmth of his breath prickling your skin as he laid down a path of kisses along your throat. "Is it so hard to believe I want to hear your beautiful voice?"

You resisted the urge to squirm away but sighed, looking down at the page. It would be nice to read to someone, would it be?

He barely paid attention to your narration of the book itself, occupying his thoughts as he toyed with strands of your baby hairs between his fingers, his ears picking up the shift of your tone, mellifluous in nature. He hadn't processed precisely what you were saying, but he couldn't help but be enraptured in the rise and fall of your voice, filled with emotion as the story rose to a peak. Neither of you had paid attention to the kisses that he littered across the crown of your head, the motion only settling the butterflies in your stomach to sleep.

As the clock ticked forward, your words began to haze, slurring together as you crawled toward the final page.

CUCKOO!

This time, no one was startled by the intrusive sound. The sun had set into the horizon, leaving you within the glow of faded lamps and flickering lights; the book slumped over in your lap as your breath drew deeper, eyes fluttering closed. Dazai smiled, no mockery or tease, careful not to wake you as he lifted you bridal-style. He was surprised you didn't stir, not once, even while he half-hazardly managed to pay for the book with his spare cash. The woman at the counter was even nice enough to take a few dollars off, too distracted with cooing at your sleeping form.

His little charmer, even while asleep. Awfully cute.

RING!

"Osamu," you mumbled, voice lethargic as the bell and brisk air stirred you from your slumber. The incessant tease shushed you, kissing your forehead with a smile.

"Shh. Rest, love."

And he walked on into the night. Another satisfying date under your belt, if slightly unconventional. But he wouldn't have spent his day any other way. It was worth the lecture.

TAGLIST: @imhandicapableofmath @lovedazai @osameowdazai @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas @lovesick-fairy @fedyascoffin @squigglewigglewoo @kelperspelt @miloofc @thesilvernight0wl @s1eepybunny @dazaisms @deepseafragments @ajaxism @himikoslove @little-miss-chaoss @sillyspookycat @aureatchi @mxxny-lupin

#☆.musings #f!reader #request: [anonymous]#bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x reader #osamu dazai #dazai bsd

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the-s1lly-corner · 2 years ago

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How about digital circus x princess! Reader with their very own castle. Elegantly leaning out of their tower singing lullabies for anyone to hear. Ps Keep up the great work 👍

TADC cast x princess!reader

I know I usually stress that I answer stuff chronologically but I misread this as just jax (I'm sleepy!!) So I went to search for a princess reader post i did weeks ago, snagged the link then reread the request and saw it was the whole cast... but I've already committed to the bit by searching for the link sooooooooo

CAINE:

You and I both know hes goinv to use the fact ypure a princess for IHA... captured princess trope stuff, basically! So have fun with that! Absolutely loves your singing, so so much. Probably joins in with you, complimenting your part..or perhaps he hums.. other princesses have cute fairytale animals accompanying them, and you have..... bubble..... huh....

Really ups the whole... act when talking to you.. bows deeply, waves his arm around in a grand fashion when showing you to a room, ect ect ect

POMNI:

Has probably subconsciously/accidentally said you were pretty outloud. Gets absolutely lost in the sauce when you sing. Like just stands there, hands awkwardly clasped together in front of her as she listens. Probably sways side to side too. Gets very pink when talking to you, her face does the O^O thing... absolutely smitten

RAGATHA:

Ah my favorite, royal princess x common lady... well, at least aesthetically... whether or not you're royalty in the real world is debatable... anyways, that aside, I think this is probably one of my favorite ship dynamics... I love.. similar to pomni she is very bad at hiding her feelings around you. Tends to stare with a blushing face. Loves making you dresses; assuming you can swap out dresses considering the whole "their clothes are attatched to their bodies" thing

While I doubt your clothing can rip or tear thanks to the properties of the digital world, I think if she could, she would patch up any holes

KINGER:

Honestly I think out of this entire post, kinger is the only one who gets a platonic/found family take on this... just an old king and his princess kid. Again I'm not sure if he truly believes he royalty or if he was trying to appeal to the gloink queen by saying "as a royal myself.." but.. honestly I like the idea that he just likes playing the part. Like he knows hes not royalty but. You know? Let this man embellish himself

Pillow fort? No, pillow TOWER! No... pillow CASTLE! Pillow kingdom!!!

Nothing too hyped specific here he's just your dad here

ZOOBLE:

Oh? Cool. I mean your singing isnt really their cup of tea, they look like they're into alt/indie stuff tbh...maybe rock. Confession I'm terrible at identifying genres so I'm literally speaking out of my ass rn on what type of music zooble would listen to I'd have to list specific artists and songs

But this isnt about that

Depends on what kind of princess you are

If you're independent, resourceful, and badass I think you guys could build some chemistry

If you're like, damsel in distress, ,kind of stuck up, whiny, prissy, ect then it's a hard no

Not many ideas here tbh <\3

GANGLE:

Also thinks you're very pretty! Also loves your singing! I think she grew up on disney films, and even if she doesnt remember them it's still a core memory that like. is kind of instinctive atp. So she finds comfort around you, you know? LOVE that trope btw, where a character doesnt remember something but still finds comfort in it while not fully understanding why because as far as they know this is the first time with the thing

Absolutely melts if you compliment her. Sure, she would still melt if you weren't a princess.. but having someone so pretty and graceful saying it hits a certain way for her

JAX:

#tadc x reader #the amazing digital circus x reader #digital circus x reader #caine x reader #pomni x reader #ragatha x reader #jax x reader #kinger x reader #zooble x reader #gangle x reader

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alacants · 4 days ago

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previous anon: i am very new to following tennis and think you know a lot about tennis, so every time i see a take that seems wrong to me, i want to know what 'mental tennis expect' thinks about it.

fjaslfjdl;f well thank you and i appreciate your follow up! hope you didn't feel too bad, but like i said, the thing about sports is that people will always disagree and the most important thing you can do is develop your own relationship to what you're seeing and your own metrics for fulfillment. like, if you are enjoying watching carlos play tennis right now, that's no less valid because of a post about how he's not better at x, y, or z than he was 3 years ago. (and no more valid because of a takedown of that post!)

if you want to expand your understanding of how what you're watching relates to how people talk online, i would start with looking for match write-ups or analysis that resonate with what you feel, rather than ones that contradict it. you are responding to something in his tennis—what are you responding to? if you can't put your finger on it but you want to, you can get a lot out of reading a thorough match analysis by someone who had the same reaction as you and who is able to break down the play and explain both positives and negatives.

(maybe i'm misreading your ask, in which case hopefully that doesn't sound condescending—it's not meant to be at all.)

for the record, when it comes to the mechanics of pure tennis i would rate myself solidly mid, on a scale of tennis fans. (maybe low?) my insights such as they are (lol) have more to do with like... tennis in context. because that's what interests me—how we read meaning from sports. this is what the constant references to #narratives are shorthand for. this isn't inherently more or less valid than getting really into, say, statistical analysis.

two sites i read that do dig deep into pure mechanics are a thread of order and heavy topspin. as someone with v e r y slow visual processing (i am constantly rewinding even during live matches), a thread of order is especially helpful due to the illustrative gifs.

last but not least, i've posted guest takes here that make the technical case for an overall lack of improvement over the last couple years - you can find them under the tennis mechanics tag. though i don't know if you want to. but if you do you'll see that my response is basically, well you make a good case, let's see what happens next!

#wait omg am i jannik sinner? vediamo...#the other thing is that as i've mentioned i wasn't watching much tennis for a while in there. my first live carlos memory is wimby 23!#i've watched a lot of replays since but it's inherently a different experience from someone following closely as it happened.#definitely some advantages. definitely some disadvantages.#ask #tennis mechanics

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longing-for-rain · 9 months ago

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Just so you know, some of your anons are coming from a blog called @mal3vol3nt

I do not know if you’re aware, but she’s chronically obsessed with you and has also been sharing your ao3 on Twitter and inciting harassment there too, saying you’re “racist” and a “degenerate” and accusing you of writing underage. Her blog lately is mainly posts about you and it sounds very similar to some of your anons

I had to check this out for myself and...wow. All I can say is just...wow 🤣

No, I actually had no idea who this person was but from the looks of it she's been obsessed with me for months? I guess that explains the anons, I knew these people were mad, but apparently they've been over here steaming over my takes and are legitimately terrified of me. And I didn't even know them! Didn't realize I've been doing numbers on Twitter (or X whatever it is now) despite never having an account.

(The rest is below; please don't click if you do not wish to see insensitive discussions of rape or if you are not in the mood to read opinions so malformed they will melt your brain)

I guess I have another angry little troll who doesn't know what a captial letter is obsessed with me. Wish I could say it was the first time, but alas. A lot of particularly funny things here though.

> Advertising your terrible ragebait Twitter like anyone finds you important

Lmao.

> "write fanfiction of katara being raped so zuko can save her"

What a terrible misread of the point of that story, but then again, I don't expect much else from a terminally online crybaby who exclusively consumes media for children. If you can't handle adult discussions about adult topics, maybe don't read stories that are clearly marked 18+ and with far more extensive trigger warnings than any mainstream media will give you.

> "measuring the size of her breasts and hips"

Lmao. I said she is drawn differently in different scenes. That's it. You guys are another level of unhinged.

> "obviously fetishes and racism"

It's kind of creepy how they sexualize Zutara, while simultaneously accusing us of doing that. Why do you assume a fetish is the only reason behind someone liking a ship? Why would you say this about a group of people including many black, brown, and indigenous women? And minors? And if you want to get into the whole fetish thing, don't even get me started on the shit I've seen from the kataang fandom. Hint: when I say some of you have a "mommy fetish" I mean it in a very literal sense. Not to mention the whole kataang rape discord debacle.

> "sick fantasies about these minor characters"

I have never depicted a minor in a sexual situation. I make a point to explicitly avoid doing that, and all characters are depicted as adults. Your lack of media literacy isn't an argument. If you're going to criticize my writing, at least read it, which you clearly didn't. And if the content is too upsetting for you, you clearly lack the maturity to engage in these kinds of discussions.

Imagine treating ship discourse this seriously, actually unhinged. Who said that Ember Island Players is the real Katara? What? She talks a big number about coke-fueled rants, must have given it a try herself. How do you expect to be taken seriously when you never say anything of substance and screech "racism" or "colonizer" every other word but can't even articulate the significance of those terms? Honestly, at this point you sound like a right-winger who thinks saying "but I'm [identity] and I agree with [opinion]" is a golden ticket to winning every argument.

And look at this: apparently I deserved all the things she and her friends sent me? Actually I respect this take, at least she's honest about it unlike the people who cry and backpeddle when they get caught red-handed.

I'm actually cackling at this one. Genuinely laughing; my neighbors are probably concerned. It's like you took every single Bad Person Allegation and threw it into a blender. And to top it all off, apparently 24 is "pushing 30" now LMAO. And apparently I, a lesbian, could only possibly like Zutara because I think Zuko is hot. Not to mention the way they entirely miss the point of Zutara, but ATLA itself, by insisting that Zuko is a "violent imperialist" who is apparently unworthy of love by anyone who does not share his skin tone. Kind of ironic coming from the people crying that I'm a racist who doesn't understand the show. Next level clownery.

This is so funny. These people are absolutely terrified of me, no amount of unhinged anons will hide that. It's fine for men to tell me I deserve rape and death, that I'm a dirty pervert for daring to speak out about sexual trauma, and that women's sexual trauma is nothing but a fetish, but if I respond to that man telling him he should die for being so disrespectful and misogynistic to rape victims, I'm the monster? I stand by it. If you think what he said about rape and rape victims is acceptable, especially if you're a man, die! Hang from ropes, as I said.🥰

I guess I should be really scared though. This is clearly a very influential figure in the fandom who is renowned for her enlightened wisdom on the plight of fictional cartoon characters against evil imperialists like me (adult with job).

...oh wait. I was excited for a minute, I thought I was dealing with a celebrity. But even the "callouts" struggle to hit 20 notes :/

And to everyone sending me positivity during this time, thank you very much! But I wanted to show you this to assure you I'm doing just fine. People can act as weird as they want behind a gray face, but after seeing the kinds of whiny little brats they are in reality, it's pretty hard to take it seriously. "I got my plane ticket" my ass, that would require you to leave your decaying, trash-filled apartment.

#tw sa mention #anti kataang #zutara discourse #atla #avatar the last airbender #avatar fandom problems #ask #anon

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nonsensechemicals · 2 months ago

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maybe just stop talking about the Narrator and Stanley until you play the game again? i don't believe you misread things, you're twisting around yourself trying to agree with everyone because you don't know what's going on

CONTRARY to professional and popular belief i Am actually capable of forming my own opinions and thoughts based on my own knowledge. it's ALSO possible for me, someone with metric tons of cognitive issues, to wildly misread or misinterprest something.

i agreed with the post saying "Stanley is a vessel" because i agreed that in some endings, Stanley's character is used as commentary about player characters and our choices. i do not think that Stanley is completely empty or void of personality and i myself wrote a post on my old account detailing signs of life that he showed. i moreso was opposed to some people's characterizations of him that *completely* disregard his role as the player's character because i think that *aspect* of him is important even though i'm aware he isn't just a vessel

#im crying why is everyone coming at me for this #answers #there's literally no drama i just made a mistake in my wording. Forgive Me i guess

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petruchio · 1 year ago

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I'm not really good with explaining myself (also English isn't my first language) but I saw someone else's post about it this week and their take when they first read the book was that Peeta used the "star crossed lovers" purely as a strategy in the beginning (the op of that post recognizes that they were wrong in that regard but it's such a good post! I could link it for you if you're interested?)

Anyways, they made the point that it started feeling real in the cave when Katniss is trying to get them food and she goes and says that Haymitch didn't want her to talk about certain topics. And then they kiss and Katniss feels something stirring inside

And I thought it was such!! An interesting view!!

Because like the op of that post and you just said: it would make sense for Peeta to feel a little betrayed at the end of the first book. Because even though it started as a strategy on his/their part, he fell and thought she was falling, too.

Which makes sense if we look at Katniss wording on that scene and the general opinion that she can't act out of the two of them. Of course he would think she was falling, after all he did.

I don’t know if I'm making any sense

I'll try to find the post I'm referencing tho!! They were way better at explaining than I could ever be lol

posting your follow up too!!

Found the post, if you're interested! https://www.tumblr.com/devildogdemon/750318145002192896/bracing-myself-for-committing-potential-everlark?source=share

yes i'm inclined to agree that it's the post-feast kiss!! i think it's the feast scene too -- @mollywog left an AWESOME reblog on my original post with some highlights for that exact same scene pointing to it as the moment when things become "real" for peeta. and i think, no matter how much we think peeta's crush is real or played up or whatever else, i agree that scene is significant as the moment where it becomes "real" for peeta. because she's willing to do something irrational for his sake.

and it's interesting too that that's ALSO the scene where it becomes "real" for katniss!! "it's him" she says -- she doesn't want to lose HIM. and then of course that famous "stirring" kiss

and interestingly we can also draw a connection to their beach kiss in catching fire -- another moment where the "reality" of losing peeta hits katniss in full force and she realizes she can't really deal with that. "i do, i need you" is kind of the grown up version of that "it's him" line -- they're both moments when she recognizes for herself that she isn't just doing this to survive, or because he happens to be there with her, but because she genuinely cares about HIM, as a PERSON, as an INDIVIDUAL.

@mollywog also pointed out that one of peeta's biggest pet peeves (seems like a weak word to describe it but go with it) is being called stupid or having it be implied that he doesn't "get" something. and yes it's a brilliant connection that it is the one line we get from his mother: where she calls him stupid. and whenever he gets mad at katniss and/or haymitch in the books, it's usually for implying that he's dumb or for keeping secrets from him. like when katniss says he doesn't "get" the concept of owing someone something and he's like um wtf. (that scene always makes me laugh bc she's like no peeta you don't get it, i owe you for saving my life, and he's like ok right... so the thing that you... also just did for me. but back to the topic at hand) and that moment at the end of the first book ties both those things together: not only does she imply that he misread her actions as genuine when she was faking them, she also says that haymitch kept the danger of their situation a secret from him -- and i think that hurts him too!

so i guess the answer is kind of what i was pointing to in my original post. that is, like, peeta is right! katniss IS genuinely falling for him, and he, correctly, picks up on that! it's not peeta's misreading of the situation, it's katniss' defense mechanisms that are the root of the issue. peeta knew when things became real; he's hurt that katniss is still denying it.

i guess it's just interesting because i feel like on a first read, it seems like peeta is just sad that katniss was faking their romance the whole time. but the more you dive into it, i think what he's actually sad about is that he thinks he misread the moment when things changed for her as just being part of the act. but the beauty of that is that like, he didn't! he was actually totally correct.

and katniss knows it too -- she talks about that kiss regularly. it also kind of ties into that quote from catching fire where she's talking about the fake pregnancy and she says "it could be true" but her logic isn't like "if this wasn't fake," her logic is "if i hadn't spent years building up my walls." so she kind of admits it as well -- that it's more so that SHE'S too scared to let it be real, and that SHE'S the one deluding herself -- not him! (i wonder on what level he recognizes that too! like, i definitely think he's hurt by her implication that he misread their whole dynamic. but i also wonder if there's a side of him that's also hurt that she won't let go of her defense mechanisms for his sake. because a part of him must still be thinking there's no way i misread ALL of that. why won't she just admit it too?)

ugh. so interesting to think about. he's so complex! it's easy to reduce peeta to just like -- king of my heart best boy ever the blueprint book boyfriend -- but he's actually a really interesting and nuanced character and his traits all make sense when you put them together in context of his background and his relationships. so good!!

#answered #anonymous #thg #thg thoughts

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sysmedsaresexist · 10 months ago

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Would you explain the driving/DID thing more? I thought that supposed law as A. In the UK and B. Not even in law.

It's an exceptionally dumb thing to try and legislate anyway. Dissociation can happen to anyone, and accidents from people zoning out and not paying attention happen literally all the time. Texting and driving has killed infinitely more people than a dissociated system ever has, and yet that law does nothing to actually curb that.

Your comments sound like you support that kind of thing and I sure hope I'm just misreading that.

Hi! I'm not 100% sure I understand-- I think I do, but if I misinterpreted, let me know!

Please note that this doesn't even scratch the surface of these topics. This entire thing needs a BOOK to go over every little aspect. That said, my response is going to very topical, but I hope it still answers the question. I also get rambly, but when don't I?

To my knowledge, the original driving ban was actually in relation to autism, not CDDs, and nothing has ever come into place from a legal standpoint-- this includes my knowledge of the UK, US, and CDN laws. The same is also true of gender affirming care-- it was a discussion about autism several years ago. I actually made a post where I even found the person who started the CDD rumor, I'll see if I can find that post.

Now, this doesn't touch on the current climate around trans rights (especially minors' rights), because the states are having a fucking... moment, over there that sort of overlaps with this conversation but not specifically enough to get into, just pointing out that I understand things aren't exactly peachy across the world.

And that's important.

Things aren't perfect.

I admit that a lot of sectors need some serious reform and work, but we need to talk about real issues, not exaggerated ones. We can make things better for people with physical and mental health issues, but there's zero point in arguing about things that aren't actually real or happening.

I support the current safeguards in place-- doctors treating each person for their unique issues and symptoms. Personalized approaches.

I'm going to assume you're either UK or US, so for example...

Here's info on UK guidelines. You can see that, as I stated, it's about symptoms, not specific diagnoses. It also lists what's required for someone to be able to drive, and it's... really not that bad? 3 months symptom free? I see no issues with the way it's laid out. You've probably already passed the 3 month mark before this ever matters.

Canada works like the UK. The US has very similar stipulations, but doesn't list it as nicely. The general rule is that if you're at risk of ever not driving safely, check yes. "Not driving safely," is defined very similarly to the screenshots-- recent flareups or episodes, risk of falling asleep, seizures, loss of awareness or conscious control, same kind of things.

I support this. If someone is experiencing symptoms that would make driving dangerous, why would I not? I've been in too many accidents and like I said, I already lost my father.

The idea that you'll automatically lose your license, or not be able to get your license, is just wrong, and it's always anti psych people who say it. And like, pwCDDs can't get a job? Better tell that to all the VERY real doctors diagnosed with DID and actively working as clinical therapists. Guess they didn't get the memo.

A diagnosis will not stop you from doing ANYTHING. A lack of knowledge about your rights will.

No one should ever be afraid of being diagnosed or getting help. I am so angry at people that present a false idea of what happens. Like instead of lying and saying we're all going to lose our licenses, just teach people what they need to do and who to contact to sort licensing issues out. Let's focus on holding doctors accountable and ensuring they're making fair decisions on these things.

We all know that doctors aren't always fair, and it's not necessarily the system's fault. As patients and clients, it's our job to understand our own rights (yes, it is our job, unfair as it may be and as much hand holding as you might expect). No one is saying that there aren't shit doctors that will abuse their power. Unless we, as patients, understand our rights, no one else will stop that doctor from doing it to someone else. The law already backs us, it's holding them accountable and pointing out when the laws aren't clear enough. We can have our licenses, we should be promoting awareness of rights and responsibilities of the government, doctors, and patients.

And guys, I know it can be inconvenient, but... if you're not supposed to be driving, just don't.

My dad was not supposed to be driving. In fact, he was in a treatment center ACTIVELY RECEIVING TREATMENT, and was allowed to check himself out. That same night, he got behind the wheel, and he wasn't the only one who died.

In this way, I agree with you. Laws don't make a difference. Literally none. He would have driven that night with or without a license. It's up to us, as people, patients, and family members, to be honest about our symptoms and abilities, inconvenient or not, and we pray to God that someone gets pulled over with a revocation flag on file, rather than cops showing up to an accident that's already happened.

But no one will be fucking honest if people keep lying about how "dangerous" being diagnosed with something is.

Losing your license is a very small risk compared to the benefits (and no, it's not gone forever), and knowing your rights is the best thing you can do for everyone, yourself included.

Know your rights, know how to exercise them.

#child of a murderer #say it like it is x.x

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melocherie · 2 months ago

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I’m beginning to think some of you genuinely cannot read which is shocking for a writing community.

I'm not going to disclose what Millie did or did not do with Star because that is private information that I don't have the right to reveal and would put a strain on this situation, but again, I'm not acting based on wild speculation. Star already knows about everything, and I gained their blessing before writing anything here. If they were ever hurt by any of my actions thus far then they would have told me, and I’d immediately back off.

And yes, they are aware of this ask too, and they find it disgusting that you are using the "what about the victim?” card without actually approaching the real victim yet again. They may not always check lavenoorawareness but it’s very, very easy to just shoot them a message and include them in the conversation. The Star who is offended and pressured by my behavior does not exist. Stop using them to argue against me because that’s not the reality we’re dealing with here.

Oh, did I wake up in some alternative reality where it isn't impolite to call someone an idiot (“they didn’t call you an idiot, they called your actions idiotic,” be fucking for real), read their motives in bad faith, and falsely accuse them of slander? Or is it because you agree with them that their excessively hostile tone toward me was totally fine, but it's a bridge too far when I call them a dumb bitch over using intentionally using insensitive language while we're talking about child grooming? A very real, terrible crime, and again, Star, the real human being, read their message and told me directly they hated their response to me. Am I crazy? Did I make everything up? Did that not happen?

Rather than actually reading the words being exchanged, did you skim over everything and then come to me with your biased defense, and expect me not to react negatively? Sorry, I appreciate your attempt to sound polite, but you pissed me the fuck off with this ask already and naturally, got blocked. This is serious, and I’m not wasting my precious time playing online debate with people refusing to read.

I find it comical how often I have to reiterate that I don't want anyone bothering Millie, I don’t condone harassment, and don't care what she does after this, yet I'm the one being portrayed as a brutal aggressor persistently attacking some poor innocent woman. If you believe that by removing my original post criticizing Noor's friends actions and then responding to a separate ask prompting me to vaguely speak about Millie for a couple hundred words, I am transferring blame specifically to hurt her, you are once again misreading my intentions in bad faith. Criticism is not hate, criticism is not an attack, criticism is not slander. I'm expressing disapproval of her actions, which I'm allowed to do within reason, and you're the ones who are dragging this situation out by constantly approaching me about it. Even if it was to support me, if anyone else tried to message me about the Millie's situation, I'd silently delete it and move on. The only reason why more and more eyes are on this is because you guys are the ones responding to it, thus circulating it around.

And, really? Talk to Millie about it? That’s the blessed advice you’ve decided to bestow upon me? Talk to Millie? The person who explicitly stated they’re stressed about about the situation and do not want to be messaged about it? In response, you think I should message her? You think I, the person who would respect her if she apologized but ultimately doesn't care what she does, should message her? You think it’s my responsibility to approach a twenty-five-year-old woman and explain to her that the way she handled her post was insensitive? That’s your advice?

Fuck off.

#last post i’m responding to abt this.

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sokkastyles · 2 years ago

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I saw this post and some reblogs of it, and I wanted to know what you thought.

This is the post.

And these are the reblogs.

This reminds me of people who try to argue that enemies to lovers is abuse by ignoring the difference between opponents fighting on a battlefield in a fantasy setting and someone hitting on their spouse. The latter involves a power dynamic that is not present in the former. The difference between Zuko fighting Azula to end the war (and Aang fighting Ozai to end the war), and Ozai manipulating Zuko inro a fight he could not win for the purpose of terrorizing, publicly humiliating, and mutilating him should be obvious. Zuko's age is emphasized because Ozai is his father and because Ozai used that relationship and the power he had because of it against his son. He deliberately let his son believe he would be fighting someone else, and used Zuko's loyalty to him against him while his son was surrendering. It's not just Zuko's age that is important here, although his age informs the other things about it.

Azula was a child at fourteen during her agni kai with Zuko, but so was Zuko at sixteen, just two years older, and age has never given Zuko power over Azula anyway. Zuko also faces Azula openly in battle and even agrees to the terms she sets to even the playing field. She also is the antagonist in rhe situation

If there's a parallel to be made, it's that Azula becomes the same crying child on the ground after she is defeated, but only after she realizes she can't win, not out of love or loyalty to a family member. This was a fight she wanted and was eager for, and literally says was "meant to be."

Comparing that to Zuko's father deliberately harming a child under his power who has already surrendered shows a gross lack of understanding of the context. OP says they aren't belittling the awfulness of what Ozai did, but they absolutely %100 are and their argument is so ugly and tone deaf I don'/ even know what to say.

I've also talked about the ridiculousness of the argument that Iroh must have imagined Azula in the flashback because it just makes no sense as an argument, narratively. If Iroh were biased against Azula, that would have to be shown or revisited somehow. Otherwise there is no reason to question that it didn't happen exactly the way we are shown.

Also, the claims that Azula would not look like that at 11 seem shaky to me and also rest on claims about how adolescent girls look at that age that are just not true. Girls, especially, certainly can and do change a lot in the tween years, often moreso than boys, who tend to have their growthspurts a little later.

Which actually does fit with what we are shown of their character designs. Let's look at the sceeenshots.

Here is Azula at 8(ish), her child design remaining pretty consistently the same on the show:

And here she is at 11 in Iroh's flashback:

Btw I feel it necessary to mention that the picture with the child design is from Zuko's flashback, so if we're going by the argument that Iroh is imagining Azula looking more mature because he's biased, and we're also arguing that Zuko is biased against Azula, how come that bias doesn't seem to show in his flashback, huh? You would think that Zuko would picture Azula looking even more mature, since she was closer to his own age and more of a peer (whom the power dynamic was skewed in favor of). But, again, there's no reason to think that these flashbacks are biased. They are not framed as imperfect memories and the show never gives us a reason to question that they didn't happen exactly as they are shown. And trying to read them that way is actively misreading what we're shown.

If you're going to assume bias where none is shown, what is stopping you from questioning literally everything the narrative establishes? But if you do that, you're breaking the contract of the narrative. Fictional stories require that unspoken contract, that necessary buy in, otherwise there is no story. There has to be some baseline established, otherwise it's just the show presenting things and the audience going "nuh-uh!" A bias has to be established to give the audience a reason to question the narrative contract. That's why in stories with unreliable narrators or stories that play with or otherwise deconstruct the narrative contract, there are techniques used to establish that we're supposed to question things. None of those are present here.

There is an obvious difference between Azula's design in the second flashback compared to the first. She looks more like the Azula we see in the present timeline in the show.

But does she look the same?

Here's Azula at fourteen. Yes, if you compare it to the picture from Iroh's flashback, they look closer to each other than Azula's child design, but they do not, in fact, look the same. In Iroh's flashback she's wearing the makeup she is almost never seen without in the present timeline, and that's the biggest difference. But that's not unusual for a child entering their tween years to be experimenting with make up. Azula at 11 is wearing makeup, but her lipstick appears to be lighter, more girlish shade. She might be wearing eyeliner, which would explain why her eyes look narrower than her child design, but that also is just the natural progression of depicting a character's age in animation. Notice that Azula in the present timeline has even smaller eyes, darker lipstick, and a more defined face shape than in Zuiko's agni kai, where she still has a somewhat rounded baby face.

I've also argued before that it makes sense for the character for Azula to wear makeup. 11-14 is young to wear makeup but not uncommon, and for Azula, it makes sense that a character obsessed with appearance of perfection would wear it. It also makes sense for Zuko's agni kai to be the time when this transition happens in Azula, after her mother leaves and her father gains complete control over his children's lives, and Azula realizes even more that she needs to maintain that mask of perfection. I've also talked before about how Azula at fourteen seems very familiar with war meeting whereas Zuko at thirteen had to argue his way into one. This is unusual, it is a sign that something is not right, but we already know this. We know how Ozai is treating his kids. We know how he puts pressure on Azula to be his golden child, we know that he actively sabotages Zuko so he can fulfill his role as the scapegoat. Something is absolutely rotten in Denmark, but it's not narrative bias. Pay attention to the story actually being told.

I also want to compare Azula's character designs in the show to Zuko's as a child and an older teen. Let's look at Zuko's design from "Zuko Alone," where he is roughly 10ish when Azula is 8ish.

One of the reblogs made the argument that Zuko looks the same when he's ten vs when he's thirteen. Let's take a look.

Pretty similar, although I would argue there are differences. He's a little taller, his face is less round and babyish in the second picture. (He's also got a cute little forelock, hi!)

But yeah, he still has his "child" design for the most part. He hasn't yet bridged the gap to his present timeline appearance.

However, in season three we get a flashback to Zuko at the same age, thirteen, but shortly after his banishment, and he looks like this:

Here, his character design is similar to his familiar character design from the beginning of book one. It's a pretty stark change, but just like with Azula at the agni kai, this character design is meant to tell us something about the character and the changes he has gone through. Azula may go through those changes earlier because girls do tend to have their growth spurts earlier than boys, but if you actually look at the timeline, both Zuko and Azula changed at roughly the same time, surrounding the singular event of Zuko's banishment. But like with Azula, we could also go back even before that. An interesting detail is that Zuko after Ursa's banishment (as seen in "The Storm,") is wearing the more militaristic uniform that is part of his book one design, the high collar and armored shoulder pads as opposed to the looser clothing he wears in childhood (which is actually similar to what redeemed Zuko wears). This, like Azula's makeup, is reflective of the loss of vulnerability, of innocence, the need for armor, for protection. It makes them look more mature but also highlights how they're not, and are traumatized children desperately trying to protect themselves.

Btw, anyone who thinks makeup can't change your appearance that much clearly doesn't know very much about makeup.

Also, stop calling child heroes in fantasy shows child soldiers, I am begging you. It's not just the age difference between Ozai and Zuko that makes what he did abuse, there's also a purposeful abuse of a power dynamic that is absent from your standard child-hero of an adventure series fighting the evil adults. Even taking into account Aang's trauma over being the chosen one or Jet and his group of orphans, it's not the same thing as real children being forced to be child soldiers, and will never be. These children, as action heroes in a fantasy series meant for children, have more power and agency than even most adults in the real world will ever have, and even as interested as ATLA is in exploring trauma, it will never be able to address the real trauma and horror of child soldiers, and wasn't meant to.

#zuko #azula #ozai #iroh #abuse cw #the discourse

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