#(un)welcome back

[sidereon-spaceace]

torn between wanting to make all my ocs Specialest Little Guys and overpowered VS. the fact I just finished watching all three extended editions of Lord of the Rings and am deeply moved by the struggles and worth of the common man

[triglycercule]

i'm going on a trip to europe tmrw until the 31st so get ready for a bunch of airport/europe/tour/beach/whatever international bullshit i experience during the trip because i MUST relate everything i do to the murder time trio or can i even call myself a fan. the tricule hc tag is going to be FLOODED over these next few days (and i also have unironically like 45 drafts ready for the posting if i run out of ideas (UNLIKELY) so yeah. this blog is GETTING SPAMMED!!!!!!)

anyways i'm packing now :3 i took a day off today because i just seriously spent all of monday and tuesday horror analyzing th moment i wake up at 9 and go to sleep at 1. and then i spent the entirety of wednesday yesterday dust translating (and i have more of calvateyla's ao3 fics to translate too) so i'll probably be working on both of those (AND HOPEFULLY MY SUMMER HOMEWORK BECAUSE I DIDN'T DO IT YET) until i return. in which idk ill explode or something maybe i'll make a new project or pick up a wip or something (stares with my big pink orange green sparkly luminous iridescent eyes at swapinverse. or my other mtt ideas that DEFINITELY should be made into art or writing or something instead of text form but i'm really lazy so)

[italeean]

Hello againn

(it's me parker)

WAAAAAHH YOU'RE BACK

@myreygn he's back!! ✨️

[someonesomewheredown]

The scariest thing with this current story arc is that we probably aren't getting anyone who was explained back. Even if Lubelle gets defeated/kicked out, how are you supposed to un-explain something? Maybe you can pretend to ignore that truth, or come up with some nonsense to "disprove" the facts, but in the end it doesn't change anything. It won't bring back the dead.

[bitbrumal]

                              QUESTION    ↤  @predvestnik  ::  SOME MEME SOMETIME  ↩

❛ the last time we talked, didn’t you say you wanted to kill me? ❜ Dottore! I'm spamming you, aren't I ? oops

DOTTORE the overhead lights flicker & blink, once, as the boy strolls in as if invited. ( was he? can't recall. brain's a cottony fuzz & it's become a preoccupation. ) "—hm? did i?" at the very least in some fit of annoyance- it's highly likely. this, émile can concede. y'know, like the one looming instantly upon the 11th reappearance in his life. a thumb nudges under his mask. it clatters onto his half-written thoughts. "well aren't you glad i have better things to do." his eyes find with unerring accuracy those lightless blues. "what is it this time?"

always, always, does he approach the heart of his nest. the boy knows himself to be a nuisance here / arrives to land the first barb in an opening kept there out of the scrap of generosity present in the doctor's over-eager heart. ( it's. it's the tsaritsa's orders, pierro's orders. thepursestringsattachedtothose. ) he disturbs the peace. — an almost respectable dedication to his only apparent purpose. ( lies. it's too understandable not to admire. )

a little sigh, brittle & crushed between molars. émile flips his regurgitated brainfart face down to cover its shame - no matter the lack of a competent audience. he rises tentatively, has to lift himself out of the hunchback position of one more concerned with the eyes-to-brain than the spine-to-brain connection——flicks his pen & scalpel aside with careless grace. both go for their own little opening. in the 11th's face. would-be, opening. opening to be.

"if you want a spanking, you'll have to be more specific." fuck, this headache is killer. aching eyes scan across the desks & cabinets / there's a bottle of eyedrops ( fast ) somewhere that'll do the trick, & a few strips of pills ( slow ) too. 's not that important. it's not really interrupting the flow of information- there just is barely any flowing, & that's caused the bleeding ache. it's been seconds since the work was abandoned & an itch already blooms in the centre of his palms. they are meant for greater things than idling. in its most diluted form, that sentiment applies to the boy. "oh, go on- what is it. what's getting in the way of you knocking some more heads together overseas?"

there's this specific type of ... sprawl. it's reserved for those whose body only exists to support the ambitions of its head - those at once acutely aware of yet unconcerned with the furniture that jams into their knobby spine, the way they're slowly slipping off their swivelly desk chair. his lanky knees spread wide until they bang into the file cabinet under his desk. heavy-lidded eyes find the pair that grows reliably dark around him. upside down, but. they find it. "no, really." a wave of a bony hand. the overhead lights catch & glint off thin, flat lines of scarring across the tendons. the good doctor is eye-level with both their knees at this point & sees fit to sigh, deeply, about this predicament he's forced himself into.

can't be bothered to get up. ahhhhhgggh...

"i just cannot be fucked today, boy. just-" another wave, as dismissive as the universe is being of his need to care, "tell me what you want and i might do it."

repeating himself now? oh, this mood... baleful is the glare sent up, wide-eyed, at the lights. iiiit hurts. a petulant little grrkgrrr chokes on itself at the back of his throat, kept captive there by the crick in his neck. really, this chair is not meant for boredom burn-outs & it's- oh. should do something about that. should- nah. furniture. boring. urgh.

( it wasn't really meant for tartaglia's ears, but there's been a muttered "il faut être mieux que ceci." )

[montereybayaquarium]

Peek-a-floof, pufflings!

We’re egg-cited to welcome the newest additions to our tufted puffin colony! These two fluffy puffin chicks (a.k.a. pufflings!) recently hatched here as part of a Species Survival Plan managed by the Association of Zoos and Aquariums that oversees the health and breeding of nearly 200 tufted puffins across 15 zoos and aquariums.

The adorable, fuzzy voids will grow up on exhibit, assisted by our un-beak-lievable aviculture and veterinary teams. You can peek at these precious pufflings among the diving birds in the Open Sea. It might be a little hard to spot them inside their burrows and they’ll be heading behind the scenes for a little while soon.  But don’t worry! They’ll be back on exhibit once they’re fully fledged. 

Chick #2’s name is… Yuzu! But we need your kelp naming Chick #1! Our animal care team has picked three options and we’re asking YOU to help us choose the perfect name by voting in the poll! ⬇️

[solelifauna]

Yandere Batfam & Neglected Reader Prt.1

When your late mother had a one-night stand with Gotham's richest man, you find yourself at odds and cast aside by your father and his wayward family. Yet, it's only when you find peace that it all comes crumbling down.

TW: Neglect, injury, violence, death

(Y'all, it gets worse in the next post)

To be adopted by Bruce Wayne was akin to a golden ticket; rare but life-changing. You had been one of those (un)lucky souls who just happened to catch the infamous Bruce Wayne's attention, but not how you’d typically expect. You see, you weren't just some random kid, no, you were the byproduct of a one-night stand between your mother and Brucie Wayne. Of course, you obviously didn't know, and your mother was more than content in keeping who your father was a secret. So for the first 11 years of your life, you lived in ignorance of who your father was. Not that it really bothered you; your mother’s love was more than enough, and as long as you had her you knew you’d be fine. 

Then of course, tragedy struck. Your mother was caught in the crossfire between two rival gangs, a stray bullet lodging itself in the side of her head. You don't know how long you spent crying, cradling her dead body, willing her to come back to life. It wasn’t until police and paramedics had to pull you off your mother, that you realized the gravity of your situation. Without your mother and no father, you’d no doubt be sent into one of Gotham City's many orphanages left to be trafficked and killed. Running away seemed like the best option until a positive paternal DNA match came in for one Bruce Wayne. To say you were dumbstruck is an understatement. Bruce Wayne was your father? The man known for adopting children and loving them as his own was your father? You were both relieved and delighted. You didn't know Bruce Wayne personally, but just seeing the way he treated his other children gave you hope, hope that you could heal with this man and finally know your father.

So when child services dropped you at the manor, a small suitcase in tow and a shy, nervous smile on your face only to be met with poorly hidden annoyance and contempt; to say you were heartbroken would be a disservice to yourself. It was easy to discern that your presence was not welcome and considered a hindrance. Bruce spoke to you disconnectedly, offering a quick apology on the loss of your mother before handing you off to the family butler, Alfred. At least Alfred had the decency to apologize on your father’s behalf, taking his time to talk to you and show you around the manor. You liked Alfred, he seemed kind. It wasn't long until you both ran into one of your other siblings, the eldest brother, Richard or Dick Grayson. He seemed the kindest out of the bunch on tv, so you were hopeful he'd have a different reaction compared to your father. 

Disappointment was your friend once more when Dick gave you a strained smile and conversed with you with fake interest. He left as soon as the opportunity arose. Your other siblings were no different; Jason was rarely ever at the manor and when he was, he certainly didn't bother even acknowledging you (not that you minded, he was scary when he was mad). Tim couldn't care less about your presence, finding annoyance when you’d go up to him and try to converse.

Cass or Cassandra talked to you here and there, never unkind, but you knew you were just an afterthought for her; Stephanie on the other hand initially interacted with you, asking you questions and occasionally sitting and talking to you. It was soon that you realized she was just bored and you were the newest “thing” in the manor. Her interest wore off a week later, her interactions with you now short and dry.

The family as a whole just seemed to disregard you and often stilted their conversation around you. You’d notice the dining room would be filled with laughter and loud talking until you'd walk in; silence would overtake the once lively place as everyone switched to hushed conversations. It’s as if everyone but you knew something you didn't, a big inside secret that bonded everyone together. It wasn’t until you accidentally discovered that Bruce Wayne was Batman and that the rest of your siblings had vigilante alter egos that everything made sense. This had to be why everyone left you out! It was because they had a secret identity to protect and you obviously couldn't know!

You thought that once they knew that you were aware of their nightly activities, things would change for the better, that you’d be included and accepted. If anything, your admission was the worst possible thing you could have done. At least before, some of them had pretended to interact or say something to you. But now that you knew their big secret, they no longer had a reason to maintain their forced fronts and pretend to care (even if it was barely caring). They had bigger, better, more important things to worry about than some random girl who popped up and wasn't even a vigilante. 

But ever the idiot, you still tried. You still craved their love and affection, going out of your way to take gymnastics to impress Dick or take coding classes to try and engage with Tim. You even tried talking to Jason about books, something Alfred had mentioned was dear to Jason. You tried sign language with Cass but she was never around long enough for it to matter. None of your attempts were successful. You didn't even bother trying with Bruce, you knew that the man wanted nothing to do with you. 

The straw that broke the camel's back for you was when your half-brother, Damian Wayne was introduced to the manor. You thought that he'd be met with the same coldness as you, and that you’d finally have someone who was in the same boat as you, someone who'd understand. Boy were you wrong. Damian was met with such a warmth it made your skin itch and your eyes teary. You wanted to throw up, this isn't fair, he doesn't even try and he gets their love and attention, yet here you were begging for scraps. Regardless, you thought that at least you could try again with Damian, he was technically blood-related to you after all. Yet when he pulled a knife on you and almost cut your throat, instead leaving a cut on your cheek down to your jaw, you could only stare at him in shock. 

You expected outrage and at least some sort of punishment for Damian, considering he had attacked you unprovoked and that you had no prior martial arts training, you were just a civilian. Dick only pulled you aside after Alfred had patched you up, you’ll never forget the words he said to you.

“(Y/n), what Damian did was a mistake. He’s had a rough childhood with some very bad people and it's not his fault he reacted this way. I know you're hurting, and I promise that this will be the first and last time this ever happens. Please, forgive him.” Dick said softly and mourningly.

You just let out a quiet “okay” not even focusing on Dick’s words, no, your main point of focus was the large, warm hand tenderly cradling your injured cheek. You didn't even realize how touch starved you really were, practically melting into his palm. You almost verbally protested when he retracted his hand as soon as you said “okay”. He was leaving.

“Thanks (Y/n), we really appreciate it. He's a good kid, I promise, he just needs some love and attention is all. I’ll come around to check on you soon, okay?” He said, moving away from you, obviously distracted.

You just “hmmed” in response. You knew he was lying, he would never come see you after this, and you were partly right. He came around the manor all the time now, but never for you, only for your attacker. Damian never did apologize for attacking you by the way. He just moved on, most likely realizing that you weren't a threat and were not worth his energy. 

Your cheek would still forever be scared though, not that anyone cared.

That's okay though, you honestly didn't want to talk to him anyway. The entire “Damian” incident was forgotten about quickly as the family bonded and had movie nights, patrols, and hangouts that you were not invited to. Well technically you were, but you realized that your presence just ruined the overall mood so you just decided that it was better if you just stayed away. It's fine, you did NOT need them. You had other people in your corner that actually cared so you were fine (not really).

Thankfully, you had convinced Bruce (not that he really cared) to let you stay at your old school and not transfer to Gotham Prep. So you got to keep your friends, the only people who understood your plight at the manor, the only people who cared; it was after this that you decided to stop caring as well. You weren't chosen by Bruce Wayne, you were forced upon him. Wayne Manor was not your home, just a stop along the way.

So, you made your peace.

Then, of course things changed, and now the bat family was starting to turn their interests on you. 

Catching attention in Gotham was never a good thing.

[midoriima]

i remember that one tumblr acc but they suddenly deactivated and i almost went insane cos like girlie it felt like you left me or smth 💔💔

[spiderbeam]

FC43: SPANISH LOVE AFFAIR

pairing: spanish!reader x franco colapinto

summary: you’re really proud of your boyfriend’s debut into formula one… but some new fans of his don’t seem to understand your shared sense of humor

a/n: the spanish in this may sound a little stilted to spanish-speakers because i tried to make it so it would translate correctly for any non-spanish speakers <3

liked by francolapinto, williamsracing, and 64,401 others

yourusername he’s a ten (and an f1 driver) but he’s a boca juniors fan

view more comments

user1 is this how you celebrate your boyfriend debuting as an f1 driver 😭😭 i thought we were over this

francolapinto ES UN VEINTE ENTONCES AMOR

yourusername LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER

user2 of course the biggest boca fan in the world of motorsport would have a girlfriend that is a fan of real madrid 🤠

user14 peak enemies to lovers 🙂‍↕️ mhm

user3 NOOO FRANCO SALÍ DE AHÍ

user4 okay but they’ve been dating for a while… what are the odds y/n turns franco into a real madrid fan 👀

user5 CERO

user6 vos te caiste de chico o qué

user7 are you out of your mind

user8 close enough welcome back romeo and juliet

user9 break up with him 😍 boys are temporary anyway real madrid is forever

fernandoalo_oficial great to meet another spaniard on the paddock 👏👏

yourusername @/francolapinto HE’S TALKING ABOUT ME OH MY GOD

yourusername hola fernando alonso 😃😁

yourusername @/francolapinto (he’s in my comment section oh my god???? madre mía que me caigo)

user10 why are we only focusing on the caption??? have you guys even seen the pictures she posted of him 🥹

user11 i think i love them your honor

user12 🫶🫶

user13 someone tag her in that one video of franco shouting “dale boca” from a stage in front of a crowd in monza

francolapinto she’s seen it

yourusername ✋ i don’t care for it

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

liked by yourusername, carlossainz55 and 723,101 others

francolapinto she’s a ten but she said she would break up with you if carlos sainz gave her a chance (and she’s a real madrid fan 😬)

view more comments

yourusername STOP HE FOLLOWS YOU DON’T SAY THAT

francolapinto i thought you said you would stand by it 😨

yourusername NOT WHEN HE COULD SEE THIS

yourusername BORRA ESTO FRANCO

yourusername FRANCO @/francolapinto

user14 this is just an excuse to make us all feel single

user15 franco really saw what twitter had going on and said not in my house

user16 SCREAMING

user17 honestly i get it because if carlos sainz gave me a chance i too would drop everything

user18 oh i love them i fear

user19 THAT LAST PIC??? FRANCO WHY ARE YOU BOTH SHIRTLESS

yourusername i think you know

francolapinto :)

user19 FRANCO

user20 they’re unhinged

user21 crazy that y/n is an f1 wag now….. they grow up so fast 🥹

user22 my favorites <3

user23 i mean isn’t carlos a real madrid fan as well?

user24 🫶🫶🫶

carlossainz55 oh?

francolapinto EHH NO PARÁ

francolapinto SHE’S HAPPILY TAKEN SORRY

yourusername @/carlossainz55 hola 😊

francolapinto NO

a/n: pls reblog/comment if you enjoyed!!!!! i actually really liked making this one :) shoutout to the anon that requested it, your mind is huge

translations:

i. ES UN VEINTE ENTONCES AMOR — THEN HE’S A TWENTY LOVE

ii. NOO FRANCO SALÍ DE AHÍ — NOO FRANCO GET OUT OF THERE

iii. vos te caiste de chico o qué — did you fall as a child or what

iv. madre mía que me caigo — oh my god i’m falling

v. “it’s embarrassing” cerrá el orto — “it’s embarrassing” shut the fuck up

vi. madre mía — oh my god

vii. BORRA ESTO FRANCO — FRANCO DELETE THIS

viii. EHH NO PARÁ — HEY NO STOP

[shapelytimber]

Calypso and the Pink Unicorn's pirate drag show !!!!!

[PRINT] - [COMMISSIONS]

Wee john served so hard it should be illegal 16 dead countless injured, I am dead Calypso was so hot

Process (and my french rant on why I hate the choice of la vie en rose) below vvv

Final without the text

Rough colors

Sketch !

Sorry english people, but what follows is too french an opinion to voice in english (I'll sum it up for u in the end <3)

Ok alors je suis désolé, Con o'Neill chante vraiment très bien ca n'a rien avoir avec sa performance, mais vraiment la vie en rose c pas possible. Le man est sur les champs Elysées a me vendre des tours Eiffel en plastique jpp- Franchement pipe et jambe de bois ca serai mieux passer. Ou les demons de minuit !!!!pourquoi pas les demon de minuit ?????? Chanson hyper connu française. Ok c moins cucu que la vie en rose, mais bonus point plus kinky (je pensais jamais decrire les demons de minuit comme etant kinky mais here we are-)

Ou juste n'importe quoi d'autre-

(And words of wisdom from my evil advisor @quijicroix : légende vivante (de Lorenzo) ça va avec tout. Ou une chanson triste de jul (pas bande organisée, tu peux pas ken dessus). Après tout le monde déteste la police ou nik le front national c les chansons les plus romantiques que je connaisse. Y a santiago aussi, avec le gros mat la. Les trois mâts, pour le steddyhands.)

Tout sauf la fucking vie en rose pitier (meme si, encore une fois, Con o'Neill la chante vraiment bien)

Welcome back english people ! To sum it up : la vie en rose is a french song for tourists that set up a fight or flight reaction in every native speaker. I'm glad people enjoyed this, but I cannot describe the cringe and disappointment I felt when they decided to have him sing this song- (even tho he sings it beautifully (which is part of the disappointment))

They are SO MUCH love songs in french, why this one.

PS : at this point (ep7) I don't know why Stede is still bothering with Ed "I'm hitting the banks didn't tell him which one" teach, when Izzy hands is right there ????? Sir please open your eyes

[eldrith]

˗ˏˋ i'd go blind (just to see you) ˎˊ˗ Jacaerys Velaryon

jacaerys velaryon x fem!lady!reader words: 10.9k synopsis: It’s always been entertaining, this little dance of teasing words, of stolen glances, of flushed cheeks; Yet now, letters and suitors flood the Keep, eager for your hand - and the game has turned rather bitter in taste. notes: heyyyy sorry this took so long but im back! this fic has made me want to [REDACTED] myself for over a month so here it is i'll never look at it again. i didnt rly edit this sorry but thanks to my perfect princess @softspiderling for beta-ing this warnings: canon-divergent; dance does not happen. characters aged 20+. Rhaenyra is queen. jealousy, best-friends-to-lovers, yearning, mostly lots of fluff, slight rude jace, he has wild older brother vibes, kissing, tipsy jace and reader, allusions to smut. reader is so infatuated with him masterlist

THE SUN IS NEAR UNBEARABLE PAST MIDDAY. 

It bakes you, an oppressor in the sky; your hand, fanning yourself gently as the other drops to lay the parchment aside. A sheepish smile as you watch your handmaids, eyes flickering about the letter with excitement - but you’re rather unwilling to give it further thought for the time being. 

A delicate hand against the rays of the sun, pressing to your brow; a short sigh that escapes when you shift in your dress. The heat has begun to draw sweat upon the soft of your thighs, collecting at the base of your neck - dripping in a lick down gentle ridges of spine; though you are never one to resist such fresh air.  

Tea is poured for you. 

And though you know you will not so much as touch the cup of steaming liquid, a gentle thanks from you to the girl before you. The tree line shimmers in the distance, green points with spinning tops that blow against the blue breeze of day. 

“Another one?” 

A voice, familiar and warm, startles you from your daydream.

Against the glare of the sun, you note your visitor - a grin that stretches over your flushed cheeks and sheened brow; It would be futile to attempt any concealment of your delight.

“My prince,” you rise to curtsy, but make it not even halfway before he’s regarding you with a rather amused glance - you bite back a roll of your own eyes, delivering him a severe look in return. 

 In the earlier days, when your father first joined the Queen’s council, you and Jacaerys adhered quite obediently to the formalities expected of young lords and ladies - but as turns of moon became turns of years, polite conversation became a tight friendship; and with it, you’ve both found much humor in addressing each other so formally. 

Jacaerys always claims you curtsy like a young mare, and in response, you tell him he bows stiff as a plank. 

A lifted brow in jest; regarding you with that warm disposition and crooked smile. 

“Jace,” You relinquish with a smile of your own, hoping your affection doesn’t completely drip through your polite welcome. “Come join me.” 

He does, and with a boyish eagerness that often endears him to you further; Sitting with knees spread and arms draped over the back of the chair rather un-Princely, Jacaerys looks wonderfully at home amidst the half-eaten cakes and teacups. A maid steps forward to pour him a fresh cup of tea, and he returns an effortlessly graceful smile of thanks. 

“This makes the fifth proposal this week.” A gesture downwards to the parchment, its waxy broken seal crumbling below it. 

You smile sheepishly, regretful to admit. “I’m afraid so.” A relief that such scrutiny from the prince is not upon your countenance, but rather focused downwards - subtly reading the gaudy words frilled upon the parchment. 

You tilt your head at his interest, “Though I don’t believe I have been keeping track.” 

He hums, either in response to your observation or perhaps unsatisfied with the pompous letter sent to you - and takes the moment to tilt his face up in relish of the same sun that seems to scorch you. 

His skin has always taken to that kissed-look, for as long as you’ve known him; rosy cheeks so becoming, a charming smatter of freckles, a flush over his cheeks that sprouts after an afternoon sparring - or perhaps riding - and blossoms even in the respite of shade afterwards. 

He’s always enjoyed bathing in the sun, and you’ve always quite enjoyed watching him. 

Though you flush in embarrassment when Jacaerys cracks an eye open, glancing sidelong to catch your stare, he mercifully has the grace to not mention it - and so you look down to your cup of tea, how tendrils of steam climb out and stagger into the molten afternoon air. 

A smattering of petals, torn from the shrub beside your restless hands; blowing in the warm breeze over the discarded parchment. “You're quite popular these days." He says after a moment, his long, dark lashes fluttering shut once more.

“These days?” you chirp, unworried of the playful lilt in your voice, "And here I thought people have always sought my company. What could have possibly changed?” 

A small laugh, though his eyes do not open- unstirred by your attempts to provoke him, shifting in the warmth like a cat in a corner of sun.

A low hum from pink lips, lazy as he grins; Eyelashes fluttering over cheeks. “I wonder if I’ve grown accustomed to being your favorite.” He decides lightly, “Or perhaps I simply enjoy watching you when you can see no one else.” 

A familiar flutter of excitement dances through you, a warmth blooming in your cheeks at such uncomplicated charm. 

And it is the truth - Jacaerys has long past commanded your attention, been the first you seek in any room, no matter how vast; Perhaps there truly is no competition anymore. A glance to the parchment before you - and the returned stare of the word betrothal inscribed in frilly handscript.

“Is that so?” Your voice, mercifully, does not betray your fluster, “Well, poor luck, I suppose. I’m afraid I seek the company of one who appreciates not my countenance, but my presence.” 

Some huff of amusement exhaled sharply from his nose, tilting his head further - a slope against the sun, the expanse of a throat; the bob of an apple. “Then you look in the wrong places, my lady.” He decides, nodding towards the discarded letter, “Tales of beauty are one thing, but I'm afraid mere letters can not do justice your presence.” 

An effortless compliment; one of many shared between your lips and his. He’s right, as he so infuriatingly often is - though it does nothing to quell your reluctance to select a husband. 

In fact, it simply stirs the warmth that lies within your chest; and he, with fluttered lashes, blissfully unaware of how his words stir your heart. You cast your gaze to the letter. 

“It's overwhelming.”

And concern leaking through the opening of an amber gaze as you continue, thumbing the napkin in your lap. 

“I don’t know these suitors. Most of their fathers write to me." You confess, knowing how improper it would be to complain under regular company; but this is Jace. 

He leans forward at this, ever eager to bestow upon you his undivided attention - yet he merely shrugs, as though remarking on the weather, “It is little wonder they should be so interested. It is you,” And his tone, as effortless as the breeze. A leap in your heart. “The true question,” he muses - a distant melody, “is whether any of that interest might be returned.”

You pray your countenance might be enough to save you from the embarrassment of candor; Yet of course he plays the aloof, tilting his head. His hair looks quite full today - swept away from his cheekbones, sharp as the slopes of the Eyrie.

Indeed, you have interest to return - but not for any of those lords, nor their land, nor their riches. 

It seems nearly impossible that Jacaerys might be in any semblance unaware of your affections for him; everyone else has surely taken note, and you’ve hardly gone to great lengths to conceal them - just as you’re certainly aware of his own.

It’s always been entertaining, this little dance of teasing words, of stolen glances, of flushed cheeks; Yet now, letters and suitors flood the Keep, eager for your hand - or your father’s army - and the game has turned rather yearning in taste. 

Some ancient, desperate ache within you - a wish that it were the boy beside you, not these distant lords, who vied for your hand.

“-If you’re asking if I have a particular suitor in mind, then…” Your heart skips a beat at the fleeting spark of interest within an amber stare. A heat, an affection you must not name, blossoms in your chest at his interest; though you lose your confidence just as you get it. “...No.” You say, picking at a loose thread on your fine gown, “None of them.” 

He makes a noncommittal noise, moving to take a bite out of one of the sagecakes, warmed by the sun. The Blackwater glistens in the distance; Jace strikes a relaxed conversation with the handmaids.

A HALF HOUR IS SWALLOWED IN THE SUNSHINE. 

Birds sing - a hummingbird zips by, coaxing a gasp from your lips when it dips into a thatch of flowers before darting away unseen - absently, you’ve busied your hands with a ribbon that refuses to tie properly upon your hair. 

It seems Jacaerys’s hunger has quelled, half the sandwiches and cakes replaced with staling crumbs. A brushing of his fingers, the shift of his chair in the shade. Eyes, warmed pools of honey that begin to drip with quiet amusement as you struggle to untangle the ribbon. 

"Would you care for some help?" His voice is full of quiet mirth, and you, embarrassed by the difficulty, nod with a sheepish glance - “Please.” You agree, shifting closer. 

“-It’s bothered me all day, I can never get it to sit right.” Your voice quiets as you turn slightly away; perhaps it would be more appropriate for one of your maidens to relieve its knot, but Jacaerys has leaned behind you already.

His touch is gentle, as it usually is - calloused fingertips from training in the yard, from riding Vermax - soft. He whispers, less than a breath. “Tell me if I hurt you, gevie.”

You feel the word, whispered under his breath like a secret - perhaps it is, because it is not ever spoken in your common tongue, but in his own ancestral one. 

Deft fingers, warm breath upon your neck; a bee buzzes lazily into the brief shade above you. A spare glance to your handmaids, who hover on the other side of the small canopy and whisper to each other with poorly concealed grins; you’re sure to deal with a barrage of giggles and inquisitive whispers once back within your chambers. The thought lights you with your own giddiness, feeling the brush of fingers against the damp skin of your neck. 

A taught, gentle pull of the ribbon; a small pinch of hair that makes you wince gently.

Jacaerys’ hands still against your head, cupping the base of skull gently - resting for a brief breath - and as the flush creeps across your cheeks, his palms then return to his lap. “There, that should hold.” He murmurs.

A warmth as you whisper in return. “Thank you, Jacaerys.”

His grin is almost shy as he shrugs, cheeks bright pink and eyes squinting lightly against the bright day as he looks off towards the bay; you, too, return your gaze to the wild of the sea, ignoring the crashing of your heart against your chest.

It is quiet for a few minutes save for the birds in the distance, the babbling of a stream round the bend - you’ve taken to examining the bump along the bridge of his nose when he exhales, eyes opening slowly to find yours once more. 

You force your eyes over the row of bumbling hedges, to the small insects that lumber around the prettiest of blooms. The burn of a gaze in your peripheral; slight breeze rustles the ribbon he’d just fastened. 

“You know, it’s quite the thing to be sought after by so many.” 

You truly wish he would let the subject go. 

The parchment on the table - forgotten by only one of you, it seems. A tremble in your cadence gives way your failed efforts to remain nonchalant; worry, that unwelcome friend at the feast within your heart. 

“Yes, but they don’t know me, Jace.” You sigh; what heart palpitations your lord father would find if he heard the tone you take with the Prince of Dragonstone. “They see only what my father can offer to their house.” 

Jacaerys nods, thoughtful as he prods a half-eaten cucumber cake - he too, is of age, more so than you; he surely knows just as well what marriage means. “Come now,” He says, voice kind, gentle, “There must be someone interested in the woman behind the name.” 

A short sigh escapes your pursed lips. “If there is, he must be hiding under some dock, or his raven lost in some storm,” You thumb the teaspoon upon your saucer, “Because I’ve not yet found him.” 

He knows you too well - a smirk growing at your indignant tone; and a crooked grin on your own lips as you shake your head, letting out a soft chuckle that he echoes. 

Heart fluttering, some burst of amusement coaxes you to continue, if just to hear his laugh through practiced diplomacy. 

“Unless there is somebody you have in mind for me, Jacaerys?” Your voice belies all effort to remain less than invested; a desperation that you do not dare admit any further. 

You truly should know better than to act so bold when there are servants and guests walking around the grounds; the walls have eyes in the Keep, but indeed do the garden’s leaves. 

Jacaerys ceases pushing the handle of his teacup round with his pointer finger. "Someone in mind?" He repeats it; tone light, almost teasing. 

The question awaits a response; Heartbeat, soft and insistent, in your ears. Say it, please, your eyes wish. But then his fingers resume to toy with the handle of his teacup, the movement casual, "It would be unseemly for me to play matchmaker, wouldn’t it, my lady?" There is an equally desperate twinge in his own tone, one masked rather gallantly by practiced etiquette. 

Your lip is warm between your teeth - the Prince’s gaze flicks with such movements, of only for a second. 

“You imply I should not trust your opinion, then, my Prince?” You counter with his own title, a jest; he shakes his head with a soft smile, rising to gather himself. Your gaze catches the fluttering wings of another hummingbird just before you, dipping in to collect nectar before you.

 Its feathers, a quick blur, eyes beady against a bright glare. Such a peculiar barrage of colors, flashing - red, some iridescent green…

“In these matters…” A hum as he rises behind you, grasping the letter you’d left before you; you are stuck watching the small creature flutter before you, unaware of his eyes roving with a heat over the words written before him. “-Perhaps not.” 

Though his words are distant as you stare at the little bird; peculiarly, it stares back, its head tilting when your own does.

Your hum is an echo of his own, earlier - noncommittal, far away. The hummingbird sips from bright blossoms of sweet honeysuckle, its tiny eyes flicking to you to perceive any threats. It finds none. 

A drop of the letter back beside you, a hand steady upon the back of your chaise, “-Conflict of interest, among other reasons.” 

His words in your ear, tapping your shoulder lightly; you snap away from your daze at the touch, blinking to see his hand outstretched to you. 

What had he said? Clearing your throat of the butterflies which threaten to escape, you grasp his hand in your own, regretful that you seemed to have missed the opportunity to address the words he’d uttered - afraid to do so, to unturn the raw earth beneath this game you and he play so well. You wonder absently where the hummingbird’s gone off to.  

A murmur of your name as his hands fall to your shoulders, steadying you to take in your flushed face. 

“You’ve caught sun,” He chides, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, brushing his finger over the apple of your cheek; A brief touch - and a good-natured roll of your eyes to hide the flutter in your chest.

“Let us get you into the shade, gevie.” He gestures the path upwards to the Keep. 

You knock shoulders into his own, an effort against the upslope - clinking behind you as your maidens begin to tidy your tea spot as you begin the short walk back towards the chalky stone halls. 

“HIDING, ARE WE?”

You hadn’t meant to startle the prince. 

Yet when he jolts slightly from where his head rests upon a sharp jawline, you have to conceal your giggle with a palm. 

A slow blink of sleep from his syrupy dark gaze as he remembers himself, stirring from such a hunched position. 

“Oh, you truly didn’t have to stay up for me, Jacaerys.” You tease, swiping a hand over his sturdy shoulder as you slide onto the bench aside him. 

The library is a wonderfully cool refuge this time of day, and after the heatwave that has welcomed so many lords and ladies to the castle, you are appreciative of such solitude. 

He has the grace to laugh, still blinking sleep from his eyes. “Well, I suppose I tired of waiting to see if you’d show.” A smile so striking upon his lips you have to look away. 

“I am sorry I’ve come late.” you apologize earnestly, taking the leather of the book he’d taken for a pillow, opening it up. 

He hums, watching with his head propped similar to how you’d discovered him moments ago - though now, his eyes burn alight with amusement.  Jacaerys decides to begin your lesson promptly; perhaps making up for lost time. 

“Skoriot istan ao?” His voice, that smooth caramel; you ignore the heat that licks at such a tone - you’re here to learn, you remind yourself. 

You pause, trying your hardest to comprehend the sentence; What…what time is it? With a blink, you lean forwards, squinting in an attempt to gauge the position of the sun through the window’s mottled colors. 

There is indeed no part of you unaware that such a gesture leaves the line of your chest direct with his gaze; nor are you unaware of the eyes that trail down the slope of you; though his eyes are schooled to your visage once more when you return to your sat position, his cheeks pink. 

You return a smile, sweet as can be; hoping he will have mercy upon you today, as you have less than a clue of what he’s asked. 

“M…” You’re unsure, and it shows. He holds back a grin, but you choose to ignore him once more. “Mōris hen tubis?” Your accent is rough, poor; as is your translation. 

You think it is nearing the end of the day - but you also are not sure if that truly is what he asked you at all. The page below you is not helpful; ‘Word Cells in High Valyrian,’ -  written in High Valyrian. 

He shakes his head - that stern, scholared look, the one you’ve grown to cherish. You smile at him, unknowing, hopeful that he’ll take pity on you. 

“No, gevie.” He chides, an amused smile, “Skoriot istan - Where were you?” 

Oh. You bite away your sheepish grin, stretching your arms in a rather unladylike way; Jace watches you with that kind, patient look all the same. 

“Nyke…” You pause, cringing at the pronunciation - a glance shows that Jacaerys does not bat an eye. “...rȳbagon vala ȳdragon…naejot nyke… lēda ñuha muña.” It is a crude sentence, a crude translation - but you believe you’ve done well enough. 

Jace spends a moment deciphering your butchered phrase of his ancient ancestral language - in stride, thankfully - and then frowns. “You were… listening to a man speak?” 

You flush, “I do not know the word for courting, I’m afraid.” 

A minuscule reaction - likely more involuntary - the tighten of a jaw, and a spine growing rigid. 

A moment before he mutters. “Rudhy.”

His words are through clenched teeth; his eyes, alight with something unspoken, some faint irritation or envy. 

You clear your throat, holding his steady gaze; you repeat the word again, though it lacks the melodic quality with which he speaks. “Rudhy.” 

For a moment, he simply holds your gaze; until, as though jolted from a trance, he nods, letting out a soft breath. “Good,” he murmurs, barely audible.

A heat you dare not name, and the clearing of your own throat. “Well, if you must know, it was no one of consequence,” you reply with a sigh, skimming the page before you. 

Your gaze flickers over words: gaomilaksir and rigle - you pay them little mind at the moment. “He was rather brilliant at making grand gestures, but sadly, that is not what I truly desire.” Your words are light, but as clear as you can put it; Though some armor or defense between you both as the crooked grins and wry grins come back. 

Sparse noise - the ruffle of parchment rows away, where a worker returns scrolls. The distant clink of a blacksmith in the distance.  

“Is that not what you want?” Jacaerys quips, a playfulness in his voice; you’ve always so loved when he finds that light, when he forgets about those princely duties, about the crown he will one day wear - when he lets himself laugh and tease and smirk and enjoy his time with you as he pleases. 

His head tilts in that way you adore, “-Am I not making grand enough gestures?” 

A moment in the silence of the library where you grin - you and Jace, and that odd line you so love, straddling truth and tease. And he, cheeks pink; certainly, it was not his intention to come off so coy - but you don’t mind, no, in fact you flourish under his attention. 

You let out a small laugh, eager to soothe his apparent fluster. “You? Oh, you’re quite grand, but not in the way you might think.”

He clutches his heart; he knows how you laugh whenever he does so - always one for the dramatics, he groans in false pain. “You wound me.” 

And he watches for your reaction; your giggle comes muffled by your palm. 

A brief moment where a cloud passes the sun behind your backs, light blotted and red with the stain of glass. Your soft laughs die down together, you and Jace’s breaths drawn together, threaded from the same ancient string. 

His back is straight - a princely figure as his shoulders brush your own. You hide the wash of shivers down your spine at the faint scent of him.

 “Well, do tell, what kind of grand gestures would meet your exacting standards?” He murmurs with a grin. “I should take notes to distribute to all the men lining our Keep, waiting for a lone moment with you.” 

Our Keep. You don’t let yourself think too much on the phrasing, covering your flush by a finger to your lips, pretending to consider his words. 

As if the gesture of teaching you a language you wished to know did not set the very standards he also exceeds every moment you spend in his presence. 

As if the small gifts - a flower plucked from those hidden bushels in the garden, books slipped from the rows and slid under mattresses until the Maester is gone, sips from his own cup of wine when your father deems you’ve had plenty - isn’t enough. 

As if simply spending time with him isn’t enough; As if you would not deny every single gesture in the seven kingdoms, no matter how grand, if he were to simply offer his own hand to you. 

But you wouldn’t dare admit such things, not when his grin is so wide, when his eyes are alight with that joy of jest. 

“Well, it might start with being genuinely interested in who I am, rather than what I might bring to the table.” You mutter, opting for a less revealing honest answer. 

A lithe finger toys with the bands around his others; he pretends to consider such a thought. “Quite a tall order.” He mocks, “I worry if I can do that, gevie.” 

His voice betrays the lie as he says it, and then, as an afterthought: “Besides, you didn’t bring anything to the table today.” He adds, lifting a brow. You roll your eyes; Jacaerys and his ravenous, insatiable appetite. 

“Septa Jaenna took my by ear to kneel before the Seven when she caught me bringing you sagecakes last.” You defend, shaking your head, “I would do many things for you, Jace, but enduring her spittling rants is no longer upon that list, I’m afraid.” 

He shakes his head in mock disappointment, taking it upon himself to flip to the correct page of the book you share between you; his palm, calloused as it brushes your own, though if he notices, he does not mention it, still caught on your words. 

“You, enduring a lesson from Septa Jaenna…” He hums, eyes searching over the Valyrian upon the book, “A gesture too grand for the likes of me. I understand.” He jests, a small smirk growing on his face. “I hope your future husband does not succumb to the same ill fate.” 

His ribbing tease settles something less than pleasant within your stomach though, a cold wash off reality hitting you in the chest. Swallowing, you fight for a weak smile, knocking your shoulder into his. 

The motion, gentle as it was, sets his cloak askew upon the brooch which holds it to his shoulder - it slips off, but he smiles all the same. 

You do your diligence in haste - fingers fastening it properly for him once more, hiding your soft smile and shaking fingers. 

You pretend not to feel his attentive gaze upon you as you do so. 

FOOTSTEPS ECHO IN CORRIDORS; A RHYTHMIC TAP OF BOOTS BESIDE YOU. 

Another blistering day - sweat gathering upon the peak of your hairline, sliding down the skin that welcomes beams of sunlight - a shiftier gown, light and breezy upon your frame. The young lord at your side is amiable enough; his voice smooth, words flowing of his family’s lands, ancient tales of the Riverlands. You, with suppressions of yawns, humming along as you look out to the gardens, a spot you’d much rather be. 

His stories fluctuate - yet your thoughts, leaves caught in a breeze; pulled inexorably towards a head of dark curls, of crooked smiles, of metal rings stamped with signet of dragon and seahorse. 

Your father’s voice echoes in your mind - consider the advantages of such a match - and a well-practiced young maiden you can play, as you smile and nod in all the right places. 

Your heart may not be in it - but your head is, and as you turn a corner, your gaze is drawn from the fluttering of hummingbird wings upon honeysuckle bushes in the near distance. 

A pair, boisterously striding down the corridor opposite you; The Royal Princes. 

Some quiet excitement, a lurch in your heart at the sight of him: Jacaerys, with such proud shoulders - dark hair tousled, cheeks beet and freckled with exertion. 

Beside him, Lucerys - an image of Jacaerys years past - hands, animatedly recounting some tale with a boyish enthusiasm. A flicker of relief at the sight of such familiar frames; you nearly forget yourself in an urge to abandon your unvaried duty and join their sides, to hear the tale from Luke’s lips, to fall into worn chaises in their drawing quarters; to laze with them on fruits and cakes, hiding in the shade before the duties of the afternoon call. 

But Jace’s eyes, sharp as a hawk when your presence is noted - and within a moment, they become rather fixed upon the man beside you.

A drop in your stomach of surprise rather than any kind of true consternation, unused to such blatant show of opposition from him. 

In that impressive way he can, Jace’s visage is quickly schooled into indifference; but you know Jacaerys, you know the tightness in his jaw, recognize the cool in his gaze. A heavy silence falls as you come upon the princes; some levity within your stomach at his gaze, stuck upon your arm in another’s. I do not want this, you hope he hears; I solely want you. 

“My lady,” Luke’s smile is mercifully amiable. “It is good to see you.”

You incline your head in return, your heart pounding beneath your ribs. “And you, Prince Lucerys,” you reply with a practiced smile; memories of youthful jaunts in the outcroppings of court - a boy prone to mischief, whose company you’ve always enjoyed.  

Jacaerys offers no such courtesy; with shock, you regard Jace’s icy gaze, a disposition well prepared to freeze over the Narrow Sea.

A moment before Jace parts his lips - “I don’t believe we’ve met,” he says, his voice low, clipped - any semblance of amiability you’ve grown accustomed to has all but dissipated.  

Lucerys’s eyes meet your own in a quick glance; exasperation must hang upon the downturn of your lips, for he glances sidelong to his elder brother. 

Your suitor, rather taken aback by the chill in Jace’s tone, quickly introduces himself; the prince merely nods, offering no more than that - your jaw clicks shut in disapproval, any amusement you’d drawn at the taste of his envy dissolved with an overhanging dread, some sad misery. 

Ask for my hand, Jacaerys - you bite your lip to quell your foolish mind. Ask for my hand, and I will be yours. 

In some half-decent attempt to bridge the gap of tension that burgeons, you weakly mutter, “Were you sparring in such heat?” 

Jacaerys meets your gaze briefly; seeking something he is too proud to ask for, before a flush of some shame flickers over his countenance. 

“Yes,” he replies curtly, eyes falling to look away, seemingly finding the wall behind your head infinitely more interesting.

A breath, in which the breeze through the windows plaster a new sheen of sweat upon your spine. It’s almost as if some green-eyed beast has taken your friend; no flicker within his eyes, only a sullen gaze leveled down the slope of a regal nose. 

Lucerys seems to take the reins, in a step forward and bright, princely smile. “Jace bested me, as always,” and if you knew him any less, you’d think his laugh was simple, of amiability; though a lilt at the end, some strain to ease the tension of his elder brother’s rather serrating gaze upon the man beside you.

“Perhaps you might join us next time, my lady? I imagine it would be a welcome change from the dullness of court.” His voice, joking; you send him a wry grin imagining yourself attempting to wield a sword - though it falters with unspoken words - the man beside you, stiffer than a board beneath your hand. 

“I would like that,” you reply, though your eyes stray to Jace - he, not daring to spare you a mere glance. Silence, stretching between the four of you tighter than frayed string; And then Jace’s voice, quieter now, almost reluctant.

“Well. I’m sure you have more important matters to attend to,” he decides dismissively; it stings you, brows furrowing. 

Your suitor is rather unaware of the undercurrents - thankfully, he merely delivered an awkward chuckle, suggesting that you continue your walk. It is with force that you nod, following though each step is excruciating. 

You pass Jace with a brief moment of brushing shoulders - a scent of steel, of salt, of citrus; and an immaculate success of personal discipline as you continue forward, head not daring to look back. 

The gaze of Lucerys in the corner of your eye, some small comfort of sympathy and confusion in his stare; your suitor has begun to prattle on inconsequentially once more. 

You wonder if your father would have you hanged, were you to deny the betrothal right there. 

PERHAPS IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN OBVIOUS.

Maybe, it was obvious - it is indeed hard not to notice when eyes pierce you all night. 

A feast, you’re at; a wonderful one, with many lords and ladies and music and laughter. You’ve danced yourself to the edge of the room, yet you can still feel those eyes upon your frame as you converse lightly with a woman you vaguely recognize. 

You’ve quite enjoyed the feast, though you’re afraid Jacaerys has not. 

He’s been stuck to you; eyes, unrelenting, yet neither body nor mouth approaching. You nearly asked him to dance several times, but each attempt to cross the massive room to him resulted in you becoming whisked away for another dance. 

The cups of wine come quite easily; you’ve never been one to shy away from a feast, and the spirits are quite high. A man before you, speaking at you; you don’t find yourself too bothered, enjoying the fuzziness awarded to you by the contents of your cup. The wine on your lips is light, and you give minimal effort to focusing on the man’s words. 

“-Should I be worried?” 

You blink, frowning at the man in front of you - several years your senior, his brow furrows as he glances just over your shoulder, gesturing with a cup of wine. The son of Lord Royce; intelligent, handsome… not any interest of you, however. 

Frowning, you turn slightly; following his gaze. Your stomach flips. Jacaerys, across the way, watches you as a hawk does a mouse; intense, open - sharp. Though at the turn of your head, he has the audacity to look away - pushing the food around in front of him half-heartedly upon the plate. 

He is sat next to his mother at the large table before the entire procession; barely a moment before his gaze befalls you and your company once more. You lift an inquisitive brow - if you won’t provide me company, your look says, I’ll find it elsewhere. 

He simply looks away.

You shake your head, turning back and suppressing the flutter in your heart. “He’s just protective,” You reason, hoping you sound casual. 

The son of the lord lifts a brow. “Protective? The Crown Prince looks ready to challenge me to a duel.”  

But eventually, the son of the lord is replaced with a new one; You enjoy another dance with the young man, who turns red as Highgarden Beets when you accidentally spill a drop of wine upon your chest. 

It is not until you find yourself reposed at a banquet table with his younger brother does Jacaerys finally find his way to you. 

“-and then his foot caught on his cloak and he tossed over,” Lucerys recalls, grin wide. You smirk, amused by his story, sipping on water. “He tried to play it off but, Gods, he looked so pompous-” 

You let out a short laugh, “At least he had a sense of humor about it.” You defend - but Luke’s eyes have fallen behind you, where a shadow appears. 

“Jace!” Luke greets the figure behind you with a friendly grin, his eyes lighting up. Your stomach warms, turning with a lifted brow behind you. Jacaerys’ eyes are already on yours when you turn, and you’re struck by his proximity. 

“Luke,” Jacaerys greets smoothly, nodding to you with a small smile, “My lady.”

You return his smile, feeling a pleasant flutter at his attention. Your mouth opens to greet him - perhaps sneak a comment on his lingering attention this evening, but Luke speaks first. “We were just recalling that boy who made such a spectacle of himself asking for her hand before the festivities,” Lucerys continues, his laughter light.

 He takes your hand in his, playfully mimicking the young lord’s desperate plea as he falls to one knee before you; you laugh in surprise, Luke’s voice high as he mimics, “Please, my Lady, I’d even take your house name—”

You laugh, swatting Luke’s shoulder with a gentle nudge. “Hush!” you say with poorly concealed amusement. “He could be near, Luke.” 

A hand comes to the back of your chair; as you lean back, fingers trail slowly through the strands of your hair, grazing the nape of your neck. A warmth stirs as Jace leans around you, fixing his brother with a look. “Yes, well, Luke.” His voice is rather tight; you can hear the hint of tension. “I think it’s time you bother someone else.”

Alarmed, you send Jacaerys a rather bewildered look - an irritable sentence, never one to be so forward. Lucerys similarly seems to pick up on his brother’s mood, shifting uncomfortably.

 “Oh, come now, Jace,” he says lightly, hoping to ease the tension. It is rare that Jacaerys displays such an attitude towards his brother in your company, nor at all,  “We were just having a bit of fun.” He defends. 

Jacaerys gives a tight nod, his hand unmoving from the back of your chair. “I’m sure you were.”

Luke’s eyes flicker between you and Jace, reading whatever either of you refuse to say. A small understanding that lurks within his mirthful gaze, eyeing his older brother, “Oh, I see.” 

Jacaerys simply tilts his head with a withering look, one that prompts you to hold back a laugh of amusement. 

“Well,” Luke says, standing up with a nod. “I think…” He squints, humming, “Oh, yes- mother’s beckoning me, I see her just- well, I’ll leave you two to it.” He turns to you, bowing with a grin poorly concealed. “My lady.” 

After you’ve bowed back, you resist a sigh - Jacaerys watches Lucerys go, his hand still resting rather possessively on the back of your chair. Half exasperated and half amused, you murmur Jace’s name; his head swivels to you, the scowl melting from his face. “Sit,” You gesture. 

He takes the seat beside you, the bitterness seemingly having worn off, steadfastly avoiding your eyes. “You need not be so discontented, Jacaerys,” you say, leaning in slightly to meet his gaze. “It’s just Luke. He was only providing me company.”

Jacaerys raises an eyebrow, his eyes dark though he tries to conceal it. "Of which you've had no shortage all night," he retorts, his voice low.

You sigh, shaking your head. Jacaerys, by nature, is a friend of great kindness and patience; Yet, of late, he has grown increasingly impatient and possessive, having apparently decided he must vie for your attention with greater urgency than usual. 

It would be both a lie and a sin to deny that you relish such devoted attention from a man like him.

Perhaps this is his way of grappling with the unspoken affection that binds you both—a matter you have both struggled to address openly, and of which you have taken in better stride than he as of late. 

His attentiveness is flattering, though the extent of his possessiveness comes as a surprise; your cheeks grow hot at the look in his eyes.

There is a piece of lint upon the top plane of his shoulder, just near the junction of his neck; you pinch it, ridding him of the slight imperfection with a sigh. Your Jacaerys; so handsome, so chivalrous, so bold - so unwilling to cross certain lines, yet so ready to dive headfirst over others. 

He relaxes under your touch, and you cannot help but speak the truth.

“You look quite handsome this evening,” you murmur softly, observing the blush that creeps up his neck. 

“Thank you,” he accepts, his voice carrying that slight hint of shyness you so adore. Jacaerys is not blind, nor is he a fool; he certainly knows of his looks, though despite this, he so often grows bashful at each compliment you deliver. 

A group of children rush past your table; you watch fondly as the two kids at the front avoid running into the dancing couples. A small laugh from you as the child in the back trips over a gown train.  

“You look quite beautiful, as always.” Jacaerys says; you snap back to him with a small smile. He, too, is no stranger to showering you with praise nor flattering remarks; and you, just as well, always find yourself exceedingly pleased. 

You both sit in a comfortable silence for a moment before he clears his throat. “Would you care to dance?”

A thrill of delight courses through you, though you mask it with a serene smile as you take his offered hand. “And here I thought you quite content to brood in the corner,” you tease gently. 

“I was not brooding,” he retorts, guiding you towards the dance floor with soft hands. “I was merely allowing you to enjoy the company of others.” 

You find his protests endearing, though you say nothing as you follow him gracefully. “You know I prefer your company,” you reply sincerely; he takes your hand and places it on his shoulder - you let your thumb soothe over the muscle, feeling the tension slide away. 

His pleased smile is tilted down at you, and you provide a half shrug as you begin a gentle dance, murmuring, “Besides, you’ve done a splendid job of deterring any potential suitors away from me.”

A hint of satisfaction crosses his face briefly, though he tries valiantly to hide it; a subtle smirk tugging at his lips before he schools his expression. “Have I?” he asks - eyes light with that underlying warmth. You roll your eyes good-naturedly. 

“You have, my prince,” you affirm, leaning in closer as you guide his hands to your waist. Your voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. “If you continue in this manner, you may well spoil my chances of finding a decent husband of the lot.”

Jacaerys’s smile broadens, and his gaze softens. “I would not dream of it,” he replies with a playful grin, leading you in a gentle dance. You roll your eyes, unable to resist his charm this evening.

“Of course not,” you say with a smile, enjoying the moment.

You find it rather soothing to dance with him; you always have. The lights are dim - music smoother, laughter soft and smiles gentle when he steps on your dress skirt - or you on his toes occasionally. 

Swaying rather gently, you enjoy each other’s company - discussing his training, your academic endeavors, how Vermax is faring after having not flown in a few days. 

Perhaps the wine has helped; the room is amiable, dark - cinnamon, cloves, amber. Jacaerys is warm against you, his own cheeks reddened with the wine coursing through his veins. A giddiness slips into your veins, content with his company. 

And then Jacaerys whispers quietly to you, a teasing joke about the inebriated couple to your left; a laugh that flies out of your lips before you can remember your courtly manners - stark and unladylike, it turns the heads of several couples around you.

In sharp reaction to your disturbance, he tugs you to him tenderly, shushing you only slightly - his own laughter stifled in your hair to save face, concealing both of your giggles in a short embrace.

Laughter from you, trying your hardest to resist - another glance to the man beside you, drunkenly letting the woman dip him low, fumbling with his weight - your hands find their place upon Jace’s neck, fingers grazing the soft fabric of his red cloak as he laughs again, ducking his face into the gentle curve of your shoulder. 

Your gaze lifts at the tailend of your ungraceful bout of amusement with a mindless wander, enjoying the pressing warmth of Jace in your arms - the rest of the evening second to him. 

Your eyes trail up to the dais: catching a penetrating stare that washes you cold. 

In the midst of the entire court, you catch the eyes of his mother, the Queen.

Mid-laugh, your stomach flips as a chill runs through you. The warmth of Jace’s breath does little to nothing for the sudden cold creeping over your face - he, oblivious to his mother’s gaze, pulls you even closer, his laughter a warm breath against the nape of your neck. 

And for a moment, you hold her regal gaze; any urge to step back and maintain a more appropriate distance with her son is suddenly discarded when you find the warmth in the Queen's eyes, the hint of a smile growing upon her expression. 

And then a slight nod from her, crown glinting in torchlight - some acknowledgement, some permission; with a mixture of nervousness and respect, you return the gesture, your heart pounding as Jacaerys pulls away, resuming a dance with you. Blissfully unaware. 

THE NIGHT STRETCHES LANGUIDLY.

Low burnt torches are replaced with fresh flames; you lean into Jacaerys's embrace, lulled into a tranquil haze by the rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palm, by the melody played in the corner.

“I believe we’ve heard this tune already,” you muse softly, breaking the spell once your heart has calmed from its earlier flutter.

Jacaerys glances toward the quartet in the corner, their music weaving through the evening air. “I had not noticed,” he replies, his gaze lingering on you with a hint of surprise.

A smile dances on your lips with ease—hours have passed since the festivities commenced, yet this is the first time you have seen Jacaerys take to the dance floor. Though princely duties might have called him elsewhere, you are warmed by the knowledge that tonight he chose only to dance with you.

“You know,” you tease, lifting your eyes to his, “if you had asked any lady here to dance, she would surely stumble over her skirts to accept.”

He raises a brow at this; regarding you down the bridge of his nose as his hands squeeze your hips in a slight tease. “You’ve seemed perfectly fine on your two feet, gevie.” 

You shake your head, laughing gently - You have no clue, you fool, your mind sings to him.  “Only because I’ve danced with you countless times before, ñuha darilaros.” You reason. My prince. 

The High Valyrian term rolls off your tongue, and though you stumble over the pronunciation, you catch the glint of satisfaction in his eyes - anything to see that fleck in his eyes, that flash of pride that you so crave. 

“Dārilaros,” he corrects with a lift of his brow, making your heart flutter despite your best efforts to remain composed.

Biting back a grin of your own at his correction, you send him a disappointed look. Always so dutiful - you purse your lips, “Jace, you mustn’t be so harsh on me.” You jest, fingers flexing over the fine material of his doublet. “It’s a feast. Have mercy.” 

He gives you a look, “Is that a pout I see?” He muses, eyes flicking to your lips and back to your gaze, your hands warm as he guides you in a small pattern dance. You simply tilt your head - he shakes his head shortly, though you see the pink upon his cheeks. “If you’re trying to sway me with such a look, you might try a bit harder,” He lifts a brow, “I’ve seen you use such charm on far less deserving targets.”

You bite your lip, a flash of memory at his icy stare, you arm-in-arm with some far-off Riverlord’s son. The dragonclaw clasping his doublet is crooked; you righten it with your thumb and forefinger gently before returning your hand to his shoulder. 

A flash of desire, wishing to provoke him - you crane your neck, pretending to search the crowd.  “Perhaps I should seek out one of these less deserving targets to practice my charms on, then?” You hum, “They’d surely appreciate them more than you do.”

His grip on your waist tightens, and abruptly, he halts in his steps, ceasing your dance. The music continues, yet you stand still amidst the swirling crowd, eyes locked on his in surprise. 

“I would sooner meet the Stranger than let that happen.”  His words are dead-honest. 

 Your heart leaps, mouth drying as you try to find some joke in your mind about his dramatics. 

You open your mouth, but in that peculiar way in which he always seems to read your mind, he insists. “I do not jest.” He adds, shaking his head. 

Your eyes take in his own; warm pools of honey. Some familiar urge - that yearning to pull him down to your height, to kiss him soundly - you toss the thought away, instead licking your bottom lip, heart thundering. 

“Nor do I,” You whisper, searching his eyes, feeling a pull towards him that you cannot resist; anticipation drips from your body as you drift closer, feeling his warmth. 

A shaky sigh from his lips, eyes searching your own. “Then I beg, do not feign ignorance,” he murmurs, his voice low and edged - the music is less than background noise. You are lost in him, just for a moment.

“It drives me mad to see you surrounded by suitors. Truly. I cannot say I find pleasure in watching others vie for your attention.” 

You look up at him, the heat in your cheeks likely quite evident despite your effort to remain nonchalant. You intend to keep the conversation light - though you know such a task would be impossible with how you stand motionless, holding each other in a crowd of swirling bodies. 

Yet before you can respond, an elbow jabs into your back; you gasp and stumble, but Jace’s hands wrap around you, pulling you to him as he avoids the flick of a woman’s hair - his body shielding you from the encroaching crowd of dancing lords and ladies. 

Without another thought, you and Jacaerys resume your dance, slowly swaying, his hands flexing against the fabric at your waist as you bask in the heavy air of his words, your eyes tracing over the gold laced in his doublet.

There are those within earshot; Lucerys and Rhaena dance just aside you now, and you press slightly closer to him, looking up into the freckle that lies just within the ring of his left iris. 

“Jacaerys,” You start, a brief whisper; still warm from his possessive words, “How should I interpret your words?” You ask, breathless, hoping. “You say you do not enjoy seeing others bid for my hand - though you’ve seemed quite absorbed in their efforts as of late.”

He delivers you an incredibly knowing look, one that douses you in warmth.

A long knowledge between you and him - between every being that takes a breath within the walls of the Red Keep.

He lets out a short breath, tugging you into his - as if unable to look you in the eyes as he speaks, your face nestles into the crook of his neck. “Believe me, it is certainly not your allure I dispute. Rather,” He wets his lower lip, “I detest the notion that another dare try to know it as intimately as I. To know you as intimately as I.” He breathes lowly. 

Heat spreads through you at such words; a flattery, yes, but a confession that is much too genuine to be of the aloof coy nature you and Jacaerys often share together. 

Despite the shock of his confession after such a long yearning, you smile against him; a giddiness in you when your warm breath raises goosepimples upon the skin of his throat. 

Gently, you press a light kiss to the space below his ear, feeling his spine shiver under your touch. 

As you pull back, your lips still close to his ear, you whisper softly, “You can become so wonderfully jealous, Jacaerys.”

One hand slides from the nape of his neck to cradle his sharp jaw in palm, watching his face contort in mild irritation at your tease. Your brows lift at his sheepish blush, tilting your head in amusement. “Did you truly believe you were being subtle?” You question, hiding your laugh for the sake of his pride. 

The apple of his cheeks darken, his jaw tight as he presses his lips together, but you soothe his expression with a murmur, “I suppose if you find it so troubling,” your finger soothes over the muscles of his shoulder, swaying along with the dance though the external world is long dissolved, “perhaps you should focus less on guarding me from others and more on ensuring I remain by your side.”

A flicker of hunger; inhaling deeply through his nose, his eyes pin you before him, hands impossibly tight against your dress. You brush against a back in the crowd as Jace spins you slightly - pools of honey do not leave your gaze. 

“I would gladly take every opportunity to ensure such a thing,” he says quietly, his breath mingling with yours as the music begins to change - no longer slow, but a jaunt. He tilts his head down in that way you so love, “Yet to act upon my desires here would be…” He swallows thickly, his throat moving visibly, “...less than appropriate.”

Heat licks through you at the admission, at the candor in his tone. Your voice, no more than a murmur. “I can be a patient woman when I must be.”

His nod; flushed cheeks, darkened eyes - the ghost of a smirk. “Good.” 

You do not trust yourself to speak; a hunger that devours you - so you lean into the music, allowing yourself to enjoy the moment.

Jacaerys, his hands firm upon you, thumb tracing over the fabric of your gown with a heat you’re unable to ignore. 

IT IS NOT SO SOON AFTER THAT YOU TIRE OF WAITING. 

Patience; you must have lied to him, when you’d promised such a thing. His hands, so warm through your dress - his eyes, so affectionate - the gaze of his mother across the hall, returning to you and him every few minutes with a ghost of a smile. 

Your hands have begun to sweat. 

You pull back slightly, meeting his gaze as you sluggishly follow his lead. “Have you tired of dancing?” You wonder, searching his face for any lack of enthusiasm. 

Jacaerys, his eyes filled with adoration, simply brushes a stray flyaway from your cheek. The gentle shake of his head that gifts you the soft smell of amber and soap upon his skin. “Only if you have.” 

Feather-light, a thumb gently caresses your jaw - faint before fleeing, knowing better than to display such actions in the eye of public. 

A warm smile spreads across your face, touched by his consideration, and you bite your lip. “Perhaps a breath of fresh air,” you whisper, your voice soft.

He catches on, as he always does with your veiled words - a slow smile spreading across his face, he nods just as gently. “Lead the way, gevie.” he says; Despite what would be otherwise considered unbefitting of people unwed as yourselves, you take his fingers intertwined with yours, guiding him away from the crowd. 

THE AIR IS COOL AT THIS HOUR. 

The birds have gone to rest; in the twilight of evening, the moon leaks silver onto the balcony, Jacaerys’ palm warm in your own. Your gown, ruffled sleeves from a small breeze - you sigh, letting yourself repose against the stone, looking off towards the gardens. 

His own gaze is directed towards the training yard, upon the other side of view, as if imagining himself below, sword in hand. It is calm, in the silence; a sweet respite, a stark contrast to the intensity of the four walls inside the hall. 

You’ve been out here, on this particular balcony, before - you quite often find yourself leaving the duties of court with Jacaerys, finding forgotten corridors or courtyards to hide in, to study, to enjoy each other’s company. Quiet jokes in the heat of the afternoon, a breath of fresh air when a roll of storm clouds loom in the distance. 

“I realize I have perhaps been a bit overbearing,” his gaze is on the yard below, sighing as if letting you in on a secret. You fight the look of impression upon your face. 

“I regret that I have made things difficult for you.”

You shake your head with a smile; always so polite, even when seeing green - and you, pushing buttons just to shy away from the reaction. 

“Well, I’m relieved you no longer look as though you’re ready to kill any man who looks my way,” You sigh coyly - the dock upon the Blackwater in the distance sways; Jacaerys’ profile illuminates in the silver of the moon. “Though I admit I do not mind your passion.” 

A brief flash of flattery and some mild embarrassment in his expression; his eyes, darting from yours to the stone ramparts that give way to the winding streets below. 

In the distance, the royal fleet rocks gently, flying the flags of his house’s sigil. You watch them with a trancelike interest as you wait patiently, heart in your throat. You know Jacaerys enough to know when he is gathering his thoughts.  

“A few nights ago, after…seeing you,” He hesitates for a moment; his voice wavering, warm. “I…spoke with my mother. About us.” This, near a whisper. 

Oh.  

Red blossoms from his ears, cheeks, neck; a sheepish expression that he schools - and your smile, growing in flattery, touched that he would think so much as to confide in his mother, the Queen, about you. 

He clears his throat. “It seems she has…already been in discussions with your father about a potential betrothal.” A smile, shy - almost sheepish - but your own is warm, elated. You’d wondered if such plans were being discussed. He clears his throat, “It indeed did not take much convincing at all.” 

Your heart warms at the revelation, your cheeks flushing anew. “Oh?” you murmur, unable to keep the bashful relief off your face.

Jacaerys nods, tinged in that regal glow; the same one he shares with his mother, brothers. He nods. “I hope you’re not too upset that we were kept out of the initial discussions.” He looks down to where your hands rest against the stone balcony; he lays his hand upon yours, and a jolt of affection rolls over you. “And…I would not impose upon you an unwanted proposition. If you wish to consider other suitors, you have the freedom to do so.” 

You hold back any playful remark about his valiant effort - casting daggers with his eyes at anyone who dared approach you too closely - but indeed, it matters not to you. As if there was ever any doubt that you would choose Jacaerys over any other.

You opt to brush the hair that blows over his temple in the cool breeze, soothing the tresses until you cup his jaw gently. Jacaerys's breath catches in his throat; a flutter of dark lashes over cheekbones as he swallows. When he opens them again, you whisper. “Jace. There is nothing to fret over.” Your hand slides to smooth over the contours of his cheek, “I hope you know just as everyone else does that I have been yours since the moment I first laid eyes on you.”  

He indeed beams at this - a wide, flattered smile, dimple carved by a kiss from the Maiden as he tilts his head. Hands find your hips again, pulling towards himself as though he cannot help it. “As I have been yours.” He murmurs, pressing a fleeting kiss upon your hairline, letting his forehead meet your own. 

His breathing, soft as yours, though your heart pounds hard in anticipation. 

The faint music from the hall, your breaths. 

The distant crash of waves, your breaths. 

Your heart beating in your chest. His breath, with yours. 

Jace’s voice comes no louder than a whisper, then, “I want…” he seems to retract his thought - you, hopeful, keen into him, “What do you want?” 

He looks at you, and it strikes somewhere deeper than your heart; He shakes his head. “I want to kiss you.” He admits. 

A dip in your stomach at the thought of doing so. 

His lips, trailing ever so closer to your own as he looks down at you, eyes nearly pleading. The line of his jaw is warm under the gentle trace of your fingers; your stomach, fluttering. “You need not ever ask,” you whisper back, your voice tender and reassuring. 

A lift of a brow, his head tilting to you; yours, craning up, his lids low as he considers your words - never one to throw out your thoughts, no matter how inconsequential. 

Fingers, curling around your hips rather possessively, tugging you into the cradle of his embrace. “Not ever?” He muses, and you, intoxicated by the proximity as he leans further, your lips nearly touching. 

His eyes, dark pools against the kiss of night; you whisper, “Never.” 

He seems to enjoy the flush upon your skin, the rapid beating of your heart - as if he himself is not a flustered mess. “Not even in the midst of a feast?” He wonders, eyes amused, “With everyone watching?” 

A flutter as you shake your head gently, words lodged in your throat as your heart pounds. 

The corner of his lips, twitching, torturous - you have half a mind to jump up, press your lips against his; but patience is indeed quite a virtue.  

A mumble from his chest, nose brushing your own, lips faint as he murmurs, “Daor isse Valyrio Eglie?” He wonders; your breath catches. Not in High Valyrian? 

You are much too wound up to consider his tease, nor to worry if you’ve translated his words correctly; with a shaky huff, you murmur, “No…Lo ziry…raqagon ao, ñuha Dārilaros.” You take the time to ensure your pronunciation mimics his own, rolling and smooth: He seems very gratified with your response - unless it… pleases you, my Prince.  

A slight, almost desperate noise from the back of his throat - his hands, around your waist as he pushes you back against the bannister, stone cool through the fabric of your dress, murmuring, “I am going to kiss you.” 

And his cheeks, growing a shade red as he sends you a boyish grin; a reminder of the Jacaerys you know, you’ve known, you will always know. Giddy, you grin back at him, voice coy as you tease him. “Are you? It seems you’d rather talk about it than actually do it-” 

 A flutter of pleasure and relief one and the same when he decides to silence you with his own lips. 

Messy, he presses into you eagerly; your nose upon his own, lips sliding together. Warmth. His hand sliding up your spine, tugging you in a motion against his own chest, a kiss rushed and filled with shy fervor. 

You, tugging at him by the lapels, as if he’d dare step away from you; He tastes of mulled wine, spices, sweet like sagecakes -  the feeling of a smile, shy and still proud, as you lean under him. 

A sudden rush of need overtakes you both. Jacaerys’s lips capture yours in a fervent kiss, one that sends your heart racing, heat tickling your heart. The music drones in the distance; a whisper in your mind - indecency - but who is to care? Jacaerys is to be your husband, after all. 

You gasp as his grasp threads through your hair with a desperate urgency; fingers, tangling in the ribbon of your hair. 

He groans dramatically against your lips, “Gods-” tugging your hair between his fingers, he mumbles against, “damn this ribbon.” 

And without another thought he tugs it free, the sudden release of your hair sending a shiver down your spine; what if someone were to find you and Jace, now? A lick of possession as you see him pocket the strip of ribbon, his hands rising to cup your cheeks as your hair falls more free around you.  

A heat in your stomach as you press up into him again, chasing the dizzying feeling of his sigh against you. “Beautiful,” He all but groans into your mouth, tongue running along the seam of your lips, “You’re so beautiful.” 

Footsteps in the hall just inside the balcony; You snap back to reality, the public setting crashing into your consciousness. 

A flush of embarrassment colors your cheeks, and you pull back slightly, your heart pounding wildly.

Jacaerys's eyes flutter open, his breath ragged and uneven as a freshborn doe. A moment suspended in the air as voices and footfalls rush past; you and your Jacaerys, staring wide-eyed, hungry, your cheeks warm against the fine fabric of his ceremonial doublet. 

And then his voice, rough and low with desire as he mumbles, eyes flickering just inside the hall, “M-my chambers are just up the stairs in the royal apartments-”

It is nearly embarrassing how quick you keen, murmuring eagerly, rushed lips brushing against his chest, “Yes.”

Even in the widening of his eyes, his lips quirk in a grin - his hand, trembling as he grasps your own, guiding you with poorly concealed urgency towards the staircase. 

Soft chuckles when you duck away from sparse guests that linger outside the hall, hand in hand, cheeks flushed. His hand, pressed over your lips as he peers around a corner, waiting for the guards to cross the corridor of his chambers - and you concealing a giggle, pressing your lips gently to his palm as he does so. 

His hand on the small of your back, ushering you into his chambers with a molten gaze. 

The swallow of a groan as you finally press him back against the wood of his door inside, warm with his touch, murmuring husband into the shell of his ear. 

He, as your lips press into the warm skin of his neck, whispering wife in return.

translations - gaomilaksir; duty. rigle; honor. gevie; beautiful.

feedback is appreciated.

tagging my list & loves: @bitchydragonparadisee @lukehughes43 @rhea-ripley @jottositto @chloe-petrichors @elaena-aerrin @smurfelle @greenvita @alyssa-dayne @uhnanix @princessvelaryon @softspiderling @xxselenite @benjinotes @princessbellecerise @bryscorner @v3lary0ns @vee-mage @hxtd @earth4angels @dipperscavern @swordgrace @useralba @mckennah123 @astrxq

[a-lexia11]

Meeting in Barcelona (part 1)

Alexia Putellas x reader

Warning: slow burn but like painfully slow… fluff, tiny angst

Words:Around 9k

Summary: You relocated to Barcelona for a new job as a third-grade teacher. During this time, you met and fell in love with your colleague's sister.

Note: Most of the dialogues are in Spanish because I really wanted to practice it since I feel like I’m losing it so yeah…but don’t worry there translation!

Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5

Barcelona is the city where I have always wanted to live. It's truly the city of my dreams. How can you not love a place where it's always warm, the people are welcoming and friendly, and the food is exceptional?

That's why, after living in New York my whole life, I decided to quit my job as a third-grade teacher and pursue my dream of living in Barcelona.

I have always had a deep love for teaching children; it is one of my greatest passions. I truly enjoy imparting my knowledge to these young humans.

That's why I accepted a job as a teacher for third grade children in Barcelona.Living in my dream city and doing my dream job—what more could I ask for?

I've been studying Spanish for some time in preparation for my move. Although Spanish people talk rapidly, I'm managing quite well.

My parents supported my project. Initially, it was a bit tough for them to accept that I was moving out since we're a close-knit family, but in the end, they backed me up.

“Just give me a call once the plane land, okay?" My mom squeezed me so tightly that I could barely breathe. “Sure, Mom, I will” I replied, attempting to break free to hug my dad, who was patiently waiting his turn.

We were currently at the airport, and I was bidding farewell to my parents before departing for Barcelona.The day before, I had already said my goodbyes to my best friends, Madison and Carter, who are also my only friends. It was an emotional day, filled with tears and heartfelt moments.

After my mom finally let go, I turned to my dad. “I'll miss you, butterfly” my dad affectionately said. He always called me that because butterflies are my favorite insects.

“I'll miss you too, Dad” I responded as we separated and he kissed me on my forehead.

“Alright, I'll give you a call once I land. Love you guys” I informed them, grabbing my suitcase handle.

My mom wiped away her tears and said, “We love you too, baby. Take care of yourself.”

“I will” I assured her before making my way towards the boarding gate.

——

As the plane touched down at the airport in Barcelona, a wave of excitement washed over me. Stepping off the aircraft, I was immediately greeted by the warm Mediterranean air and the bustling energy of the terminal. The vibrant city awaited me, with its promise of rich culture, stunning architecture, and delicious cuisine. With a sense of adventure, I collected my luggage and made my way through customs, eager to explore everything Barcelona had to offer.

I decided to take a taxi to my new apartment in downtown Barcelona, time to try out my Spanish, I guess.

“¡Hola! Disculpe, ¿estás disponible?” (Hello! excuse me, are you available?) I asked one of the many yellow taxi drivers waiting in front of the airport.

“Sí, sí, estoy disponible. ¿Necesitas un viaje?” (Yes, yes, I'm available. Do you need a ride?) he asked, already stepping out of the car. “Si,por favor” (Yes, please) I replied, and he helped me with my suitcase, placing it in the trunk.

We got into the car, and I gave him the address of my new apartment. Shortly after, we arrived there. I paid the kind driver and said goodbye to him.

As I headed upstairs, I sent a quick text to my mom, letting her know I had landed and made it to the apartment.

I paused at the door, rummaging through my bag for my keys. After finding them, I unlocked the door and stepped inside, pulling my suitcase behind me. I made a beeline to the couch and collapsed onto it, utterly drained from the seven-hour flight.

A little nap would not hurt anyone I suppose, so I got comfortable on the couch,laying down, and closing my eyes.

After a while, I’m awoken by my phone ringing. I jump a little, startled, and pick up the phone, seeing that it’s my mom calling me.

My mom's voice came through the phone, “I told you to CALL me, not TEXT me.” I laughed a little, “Mom, it's basically the same thing.” “No, it isn't!” she insisted. “Anyway, you finally made it. Is everything alright?” she asked.

“Yeah, Mom, everything's great. The apartment, the weather, the people—everything's just perfect!” I responded cheerfully.

“I'm so happy to hear that, sweetheart” my mom said. “And you know what they say about Barcelona—it’s the city of love and romance. You might just find someone special there” she added excitedly.

“Ugh, Mom, not this again” I replied, feeling slightly exasperated. My mom has this thing about my love life, always eager for me to meet someone.

“What? I'm just saying! Plus, Spanish people are as hot as the weather there” she commented dreamily . I grimaced, “Eww, okay, Mom, I'm going to hang up now. I need to unpack! Love you and Dad! Kisses” I said, making kissing sounds. She echoed my words and hung up.

I wandered through the apartment, well-acquainted with it from my numerous visits. I went to my bedroom, set my suitcase on the bed, and began unpacking.

In the midst of unpacking, my phone rang, and I saw it was a call from the principal of the school where I will be working,Valeria.

"Hola"(hello) I answered the phone. “Hola! Y/N es Valeria” (Hi! Y/N It's Valeria!) she replied. “How are you?” she continued in English.

“I'm doing great, and you?” I asked her.

“Estoy fantástica, gracias. Llamaba para ver cómo estás. ¿Tu viaje fue bueno? ¿Te estás acomodando bien?” (I'm fantastic, thank you. I was calling to check on you. Was your trip good? Are you settling in properly?) she asked.

“Sí, muchas gracias. El viaje fue muy agradable y me estoy acomodando bien.” (Yes, thank you very much. The trip was very pleasant, and I'm settling in well.)

“¡Veo que tu español ha mejorado desde la última vez que hablé contigo! Has estado trabajando duro.” (I see that your Spanish has improved since the last time I talked to you,you’ve been working hard) she said

“Gracias, y sí, he estado estudiando y tratando de mejorar mi acento sin descanso” (thank you and yes I’ve been studying and trying to improve my accent non-stop) I laughed a little.

“That's good, so I'll leave you be. I'll be waiting for you on Monday to introduce you to all your future colleagues and your co-teacher” she said once again in english.

“Okay, no problem. I can't wait. I'll see you on Monday” I answered.

“Yes, I'll see you on Monday. Have a good evening” I echoed her words and hung up the phone.

——

After a while, my stomach started rumbling. I don't have any food right now, so I'll handle errands tomorrow. I'm too tired to run errands and prepare food.

I made the decision to venture out for some food, and during the taxi ride earlier, I happened to spot a charming little restaurant that caught my eye.

Being my first night here, I wanted to try something authentically Spanish, like paella.

So, I took a quick shower, threw on some comfy clothes, and left my apartment.

After wandering around and getting lost twice, I finally made it to the restaurant.

The moment I stepped inside, I was struck by the cozy, rustic atmosphere created by the wooden tables and colorful tiles. The lanterns hanging from the ceiling cast a warm glow, while the delicious scent of paella and tapas filled the air. Vibrant flamenco posters and traditional pottery decorated the walls, adding to the place's charm.

The restaurant was bustling with activity, creating a lively and vibrant atmosphere that filled the entire space with an infectious energy. Diners chatted animatedly at their tables, the clinking of cutlery and the hum of conversation blending into a harmonious background noise. The warm lighting and the aroma of delicious food added to the inviting ambiance.

A kind waitress greeted me warmly and escorted me to a table, assuring me that she would return shortly with the menus.

While I was busy taking in the ambiance of the restaurant, the door swung open. At that moment, I saw the most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes on. Her presence was captivating, and I couldn't help but be mesmerized by her beauty.

She stood tall, around 5'8" or 5'9", with dyed blonde hair. Her hazel eyes and adorable smile were captivating. She wore a long denim skirt with a side slit, paired with a white crop top and a small leather jacket. Large hoop earrings completed her look.

She was accompanied by a shorter, older blonde woman who bore a striking resemblance to her. I assumed she must be her mother.

The same waitress who had greeted me now welcomed them with a warm smile and guided them to their table, which happened to be quite close to mine. As they walked in my direction, I could feel my heart race a little.

Not wanting to appear like a creepy person staring at the woman, I quickly averted my gaze and pretended to be deeply interested in the cutlery in front of me.

The waitress guided them to the table right next to mine, ensuring they were comfortably seated. She informed them with a warm smile that she would return shortly with their menus.

About a minute later, the waitress returned with menus for both my table and theirs, placing them in front of us with a friendly smile. She instructed me to give her a signal once I had decided what I wanted to order.

I thanked her and opened my menu, eager to see what the restaurant had to offer. The variety of dishes was impressive, with many options that made my mouth water. After carefully considering all the tempting choices, I finally decided to go with the classic traditional paella, a dish I had always enjoyed.

I saw the waitress and, as she had instructed, I signaled for her to come over. She approached and asked, “¿Ya sabes lo que vas a pedir?” (Are you ready to order?).

“Sí, ¿podría tener la paella, por favor?” (Yes, could I have the paella, please?) while looking up at her.

“Claro, ¿y qué te gustaría beber?” (Certainly, and what would you like to drink?) she inquired, writing down my order in her notebook.

“Solo agua, por favor.” (Just water, please) I replied.

“No hay problema, estará listo en breve.” (No problem, it will be ready shortly) she said, collecting the menus and giving me a friendly smile as she walked away.

I could sense someone’s gaze fixed on me, so I instinctively turned my head and found myself locking eyes with the beautiful woman sitting to the table next to me.

My cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and she responded with a gentle smile before returning her attention to the menus in front of her. In that brief moment, my mind wandered, fantasizing about what our future children might look like. Yes,Yes you can call me delusional.

A few moments later, the waitress returned, carrying my steaming paella and a carafe of water. She carefully placed them on the table in front of me and, with a warm smile, said, “Buen provecho” (Enjoy your meal) I thanked her and she walker away.

As I take my first bite of the beautifully presented paella, I can't help but let out an internal moan of delight.It's undoubtedly the best paella I've ever tasted.

As I continued to eat and occasionally stole glances at the woman beside me, a man came over to my table. His hands gripped the chair in front of me tightly.

“Hola, aquest seient està ocupat? Puc agafar aquesta cadira?” (Hi is this seat taken, can I take that chair?) He asks, in what I assume is Catalan.

Well shit, I don’t understand Catalan.

“Umm… what?” Out of instinct I started to speak english “I…lo siento pero no entiendo” (I…I’m sorry but I don’t understand) I continued.

Before he could repeat himself, the woman at the table next to me, speaking with a distinct Spanish accent, kindly interjected, “He want to know if he can take the chair.”

“Oh,si,puedes tomarlo” (Oh, yes, you can take it) I said looking back at him. He smiled gently at me, took the chair, and walked away. I then turned to the two women at the next table.

Looking at the woman who had helped me, I said, “muchas gracias” (thank you very much) with a grateful smile. She nodded in acknowledgment and smiled back at me.

“Eres inglesa?” (Are you English?) the other women, who I assumed is her mother, asked me “Soy estadounidense” (I’m American) I answered.

She smiled at me and said “Te escuché hablando con la camarera, tu español es muy bueno. ¿Vives aquí?” (I heard you speaking with the waitress, your Spanish is very good! Do you live here?) she continues.

“ Gracias y sí, me mudé aquí oficialmente hoy” (thank you and yes,I officially moved here today) I told her with a big smile.

“Bienvenida a Barcelona” (welcome to Barcelona) she said smiling warmly at me.

“Muchas gracias” (Thank you very much) I told her looking at her, I then turned to the other women who was looking at me with a shy smile, I smiled back and went back to my paella.

——

After finishing my paella, I asked the waitress for the bill. She brought it over, I paid, and then stood up. As I was leaving, I smiled at the two women nearby and said, "Have a good evening." They smiled back and echoed my words in Spanish.

As I’m walking out of the restaurant, I can't help but steal one last glance at the beautiful woman, hoping to catch a final glimpse of her captivating beauty before leaving and probably never seeing her again.

To my surprise, she was already looking at me. Our eyes met, and I couldn't help but smile. I waved goodbye, and she mirrored my gesture with a warm smile of her own.

Once I got back to my apartment, I quickly changed into my pajamas and headed straight to bed. Exhausted and ready to sleep, I put my phone on charge and lay down. I couldn't help but think about the woman at the restaurant. She was incredibly beautiful and had such charisma and presence. With thoughts of her lingering in my mind, I eventually drifted off to sleep.

The following day, being a Sunday, I decided it was the perfect time to run some errands. I needed to stock up on food, so I took a shower, had breakfast, and left the apartment.

One of the perks of living where I do is that everything is within walking distance. Luckily, the store is not too far away.

Once I got there, I started picking up my groceries. After spending over 45 minutes shopping, I was finally done. I walked back to my apartment and began putting everything away.

The rest of the day was quite laid-back; I spent my time watching TV and having conversations with my parents and Madison over the phone.

Eventually, I grew restless and decided to take a walk.Locking my apartment door, I ventured out into the bustling streets of Barcelona. After wandering for a bit, I stumbled upon a charming park. I decided to enter and found a cozy spot on one of the benches, where I could sit and enjoy watching people play with their dogs and children.

Suddenly, a small, fluffy dog appeared in front of me and began barking. It was the cutest dog I had ever seen. I knelt down in front of it and said, "Hi there! How are you?" in a playful tone, not really expecting a response. The dog started jumping up and down, licking my face. I giggled and stroked its soft fur.

"Nala! Nala!" I heard a woman's voice calling out for the dog. As she came into view, I was stunned—it was the beautiful woman I had seen at the restaurant yesterday. I could hardly believe my eyes.

The woman approached and carefully picked up her dog. “Lo siento mucho” (I’m so sorry), she said, looking down at the dog in her arms. "Está bien, no te preocupes" (It’s okay, don’t worry), I replied. She looked up and gave me a gentle smile, and from the expression on her face, I could tell she recognized me.

At that moment, I noticed the height difference between us. Standing at 5'4, I wasn't very tall. She was dressed in a Barcelona tracksuit, her blonde hair flowing freely, and her sunglasses resting atop her head.

"Your dog is very cute," I said to her in English. Since she had translated for me what the man said in English yesterday, I assumed she speaks the language. And maybe, I also just wanted to hear her charming accent when she spoke English. There was something captivating about the way her words flowed, and I couldn't help but be drawn to it.

“Ah, thank you she really is but she also like to not listen to me” she said in a broken english. I giggled a little at her remark.

“Can I pet her” I said gesturing to the dog in her arms, “yes of course” she responded. As I start caressing her dog I could feel her gaze on me,I look back up at her and smile softly which she returned.

"The paella was good?" she asked suddenly. I was so mesmerized by her eyes that I didn't register her question. "Huh?" I responded, feeling a bit foolish. "The paella you had yesterday, was it good?" she repeated, sounding a bit awkward and shy.

"Absolutely, it was absolutely delicious! The most exquisite paella I've ever tasted," I expressed with a wide smile directed at her.

“My name is Y/N by the way" I introduced myself, extending my hands for a handshake. Her hands, large and soft, gently enclosed mine as she replied, "I'm -."She got interrupted by her phone ringing “oh! Un momento,lo siento” (just a moment,I’m sorry) she said as she reached for her phone.

I stepped back to give her some privacy. She quickly ended the call and turned back to me, saying, “It was nice meeting you, but I have to go now. My sister is waiting for me.” I nodded understandingly and replied, “Oh, it's okay, really. It was nice meeting you too.”

She flashed me a warm smile before turning to walk away. As she moved further down the path, she turned around once more, catching my eye. She sent another smile over her shoulder and waved at me, making my heart skip a beat as I watched her retreating figure disappear into the distance.

Shit! She never told me what her name was…

After about ten minutes, I made the decision to head back home. It was getting late, and my stomach was starting to grumble with hunger.

When I arrived back at my apartment, I decided to whip up a quick meal of ramen noodles. I settled down in front of the TV, enjoying my dinner. As the clock approached 10 pm, I realized it was time to get some rest. Tomorrow marked the beginning of my new job, and I was pretty exited about it.

I changed into my pajamas and brushed my teeth, preparing for bed. After plugging in my phone to charge and settling an alarm, I lay down, my mind still occupied with thoughts of that woman.I still can’t believe that I did not get her name.I found myself drifting off to sleep thinking once again about her.

——

I woke up to my alarm blaring and let out a groan. I rolled over, blindly reaching for my phone to shut it off.

After rubbing my eyes, I dragged myself to the bathroom for a quick shower. I tie my hair up in a ponytail and picked out a casual outfit.

I headed to the kitchen to whip up a simple breakfast. Once I was done eating, I grabbed my stuff and headed out.

The school where I was starting my new job was pretty close by. A short bus ride later, I found myself standing in front of the building, ready to take on the day.

I made my way toward the entrance of the building and stepped inside. The secretary greeted me with a friendly “Hola” as I entered.

“Hola, soy Y/N, la nueva profesora. Tengo una cita con Valeria.” (Hello, I’m Y/N, the new teacher. I have an appointment with Valeria) I informed her.

She smiled warmly and responded, “ Ah sí, Y/N, te estábamos esperando. Solo un momento, le avisaré a Valeria de tu llegada” (Ah yes, Y/N, we were expecting you. Just one moment, I'll notify Valeria of your arrival) I thanked her, and she got up and walked away.

"Good morning, Y/N," I heard from behind me, and I turned to see Valeria approaching with a wide smile on her face. "How are you?" she said in English, kissing both my cheeks.

Valeria is such a sweet and welcoming person. I've had the pleasure of meeting her numerous times, both in person and over video calls, to ensure I was well-prepared for my new job. Our conversations often lasted for hours, and through these interactions, we became quite close, almost like friends. Her warmth and friendliness have made this transition much easier for me.

“Hi Valeria, I'm great, thank you! How about you?”I asked her. “I'm amazing. Let's go talk in my office” she replied. I nodded in agreement and followed her, taking a moment to thank the lady at the entrance as well.

“So, how was your first weekend in Barcelona?”she inquired as we stepped into her office, her thick Spanish accent unmistakable. “It was wonderful! I went out and had the most amazing paella ever” I responded enthusiastically. She laughed and said, “I'm sure you did.”

I took a seat in front of her desk. “Alright, let's get down to business” she said. “The children are excited about the arrival of their new teacher, and your co-teacher is also eager to meet you”she informed me.

“I'm looking forward to meeting them as well”I replied. As we continued our discussion about my upcoming responsibilities, a knock on the door interrupted us.

“Entra” (Come in) Valeria shouted. The door swung open, and a woman about my height, with long, flowing brown hair, stepped into the office.

“Hola” the woman greeted us, and I responded with a smile. “Ah, Alba, estás aquí. Me gustaría presentarte a Y/N.” (Ah, Alba, you're here. I would like you to meet Y/N) Valeria said as Alba approached me. I stood up from my chair and extended my hand for a handshake.

“Encantada de conocerte, soy Y/N Y/L” (Nice to meet you, I'm Y/N Y/L/N) I introduced myself warmly. She took my hand and offered a radiant smile.

“"Es un placer conocerte, Y/N. Soy Alba Putellas."(It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. I'm Alba Putellas)

We released our handshake and both took our seats again, facing Valeria. Valeria began to outline how we would collaborate in the classroom with the children. She provided detailed guidance on our roles and responsibilities, and offered valuable advice on effective co-teaching strategies.

——

After approximately an hour of reviewing all the necessary information, it was time for the children to start school. “Vale, entonces, te dejaré ahora, Alba. Te permitiré guiar y explicar a Y/N cómo funciona todo aquí.” (okay so, I’ll let you go now, Alba I’ll let your guide and explained to Y/N how everything works here) she said looking at Alba, she smiled at me and answered “por supuesto!” (of course).

We both stood up. Valeria then wished me well in english, “Y/N, good luck on your first day, and I’ll see you at the end of the day.” I nodded, expressing my gratitude, and said my goodbyes to her before heading out with Alba.

Throughout the entire day, Alba has been incredibly helpful and understanding. She assisted me whenever I needed help and translated for me whenever I couldn't understand a child.

We shared lunch together and discovered that we have a lot in common. Not only are we almost the same age—I’m just a year older—but we also enjoy the same activities. We both have a passion for shopping and listening to music, among many other interests.

I can already tell that we are going to become amazing friends.

The children were absolutely adorable and exhibited a remarkable level of patience, which is quite unusual for kids. I suppose it might be a trait in the Spanish genes.

At the end of the day, the parents came to pick up their kids from the classroom. Alba and I stayed behind to tidy up.

"Tía ¿Qué haces esta noche? (Girl, what are you doing tonight?) Alba asked as she bent down to pick up some papers and threw them in the trash.

“Nada” (Nothing) I replied.

“¿Quieres cenar juntas? Hay un nuevo restaurante de sushi que acaba de abrir, y quiero ir alli.” (Want to grab dinner? There's a new sushi restaurant that just opened, and I've been wanting to check it out)

“¡Amo el sushi! ¡Me encantaría ir!" (Oh, I love sushi! I'd love to!) I responded with enthusiasm.

Suddenly, Valeria appeared at the door. “Hola chicas!” (Hello, girls) she greeted us, and we returned the greeting. She turned to me, “I just came here quickly to ask you how was your first day?” She asked in english.

“It went really well. Alba was super helpful, and the kids were adorable. Everything went smoothly” I answered.

“I'm happy to hear that, now I’m sorry but I have a lot of meetings so I have to go” Valeria said. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Adios, chicas!” We echoed her words as she left the room.

Once Alba and I finished we gathered our things and exited the school.

“¿Dónde estás estacionado?”(Where are you parked?) She asked me , “No tengo coche todavía, tomé el autobús para venir aquí.” (I don’t have a car yet, I took the bus to come here) I answered.

“¡Oh, ven conmigo entonces, puedo llevarte a casa!” (Oh,come with me then I can give you a ride home) she told me “¡Oh, no quiero molestarte! Está bien, de verdad, puedo tomar el autobús.” (oh no I don’t want to bother you it’s okay really I can take the bus)

“¡No, no, no! No voy a dejar que mi futuro mejora amiga y colega favorita tome el autobús. Vamos, te llevaré a casa, no me importa en absoluto.” (No,no,no I’m not going to let my future best friends and favorite colleague take the bus, come on I’ll drop you home I don’t mind at all)

I was hesitant at first, but eventually, I nodded in agreement. Together, we walked towards her car. She unlocked it, and we both got inside, ready to head home.

“A ver, dame tu dirección” (Okay,give me your address) I gave it to her “¡Qué casualidad! ¡Yo también vivo cerca de ahí, a solo cinco minutos! (What a coincidence! I live near there, like 5 minutes away) she exclaimed happily.

“¿En serio? ¡Eso es el destino! Estábamos destinados a conocernos y convertirnos en casi vecinos” (Really? That’s faith! We were meant to meet each other and became almost neighbors) I joked and, she giggled.

After a short drive filled with Karol G’s music we finally arrive in front of my apartment.

“Te recogeré alrededor de las 9, ¿está bien para ti?” (I will pick you up around 9, is it okay with you?) She asked.

“Sí, está bien, ¡gracias por el viaje!” (Yeah that’s fine, thank you for the drive!) I responded as I exit the car. “¡No hay problema, nos vemos esta noche!” (No problem, see you tonight!) She says excitedly and drove away.

I made my way up to my apartment and decided to get some work done in preparation for tomorrow's class.

——

After about an hour of hard work, my parents called me. They were eager to hear about how my first day of school went and if I had managed to make any new friends, almost as if I were the student rather than the teacher.

I shared everything with them, telling them about Valeria and Alba, and how I was planning to go out with Alba tonight. “Wow! Not even a week in Barcelona and you've already managed to get a date! Good job, butterfly” my dad exclaimed enthusiastically.

“ Dad, no, it's not like that at all! She's just a friend and a colleague. It's not professional” I tried to clarify.

“Sure, honey... just a friend” my mom said with a suspicious tone. “Ugh, you guys are so annoying” I muttered, rolling my eyes at them.

After ending the call, I made my way to the bathroom to freshen up and change into a new outfit.

Alba arrived promptly at 9 o'clock and honked several times to signal her arrival. We really need to exchange phone numbers.

I locked my apartment and made my way to Alba’s car. “Bueno, bueno, cuánto tiempo sin verte, amiga” (Well, well, long time no see, friend) she joked, which made me giggle.

After a brief drive, we arrived at the sushi restaurant. Alba parked the car, and we walked towards the entrance together.

A friendly waitress greeted us at the door, escorted us to our table, and handed us the menus. We placed our orders, and the food arrived fairly quickly, allowing us to dive into our meal without much wait.

“¿Hablas o entiendes al menos un poco de inglés, o tendré que hablarte siempre en español?” (Do you speak or understand at least a little bit of English, or will I always have to speak to you in Spanish?) I joked, trying to lighten the mood. She giggled and replied, “¡Lo siento, pero no, no inglés!” (Sorry, but no, no English!)

Alba then shifted the conversation, “Entonces, cuéntame sobre ti” (So, tell me about yourself) I smiled and asked, “Bueno, ¿qué exactamente quieres saber?” (Well, what exactly do you want to know?)

“Pues, todo, donde vivías, tienes hermanos?…” (Well, everything where do you used to live, do you have any siblings) she’s responded.

I told her that I was born and raised in New York, a city where I have spent my entire life. I mentioned that I do not have any siblings. I also expressed my long-standing dream of living in the vibrant city of Barcelona, a place that has always fascinated me. Additionally, I conveyed my deep passion for teaching.

“¿No tienes novio o novia?” (You don’t have any boyfriend or girlfriend?) She asked teasingly “no, no novio o novia”(no, no boyfriend or girlfriend) I replied.

“Estoy segura de que encontrarás a alguien especial aquí” (Ooh, I have no doubt you'll find someone special here) she exclaimed enthusiastically. “Sí, tal vez” (Yes, maybe) I responded.

“Sabes, tengo bastantes amigos solteros, y mi hermana también está muy soltera”(You know, I have quite a few single friends, and my sister is very much single too) she added with a mischievous grin, wiggling her eyebrows.

I giggled “No, gracias, no me interesan tus amigos ni tu hermana, pero ¿sabes qué? Conocí a una mujer durante mi primer día aquí” (no thank you,I’m not interested in your friends or your sister, but you know what I’ve met a women during my first day here)

Alba's eyes lit up with curiosity “Bueno, cuéntamelo todo. ¿Quién es ella? ¿Cómo la conociste? (Well, tell me everything! Who is she? How did you meet her?) she asked eagerly.

I hesitated, feeling a bit uncertain. “Pues... no lo sé realmente” (Well... I don't really know) I admitted.

Alba's brows knitted together in confusion. “¿Qué quieres decir con que no lo sabes?” (What do you mean you don't know?)

“Quiero decir, no sé quién es ella.” (I mean, I don't know who she is) I explained.

“La vi por primera vez en un restaurante y pensé que era increíblemente hermosa. Luego, al día siguiente, la volví a ver en un parque. Intercambiamos algunas palabras, pero fue muy breve. Así que, sí... no sé su nombre ni nada sobre ella” (I first saw her at a restaurant and thought she was incredibly beautiful. Then, the next day, I happened to see her again at a park. We exchanged a few words, but it was really brief. So, yeah... I don't know her name or anything about her)

Alba smile in amusement “¡No puedo creer que tengas un pequeño “crush” por alguien cuyo nombre ni siquiera conoces!” (I can’t believe that you have a little crush on someone whose name you don’t even know!) She said laughing.

I made a funny face at her, then tossed one of my chopsticks in her direction, and playfully stuck my tongue out at her.

Her phone then rang, “un momento por favor, es mi hermana” (just a moment please, it’s my sister) I nodded at her and continue eating my sushi but I still heard her conversation.

“Que quieres Ale?…si…si..ok no problema…si.. escucha estoy comiendo con mi amiga, te llamaré más tarde,te quiero,adios” (What do you want Ale?..yes…yes..ok no problem..yes..listen I’m eating with my friend right now, I’ll call you back later,I love you,Bye) she said to her sister and hangs up the phone.

“¿Ahora, dónde nos habíamos quedado?” (Now, where were we?) she asked playfully, raising her eyebrow.

——

We spent the rest of the evening getting to know each other better. She shared stories about her mom, Eli, her late father, and her sister, Ale although she did not say much about her.

Eventually, we finished our meal and decided it was time to go home. We got into her car, and she drove us back. Once we arrived at my apartment, we exchanged numbers, and she insisted on picking me up for work the next morning.

I gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheeks, asked her to text me once she got home safely, and then stepped out of her car.

I did my night routine and went to bed, scrolling through my phone.I received a text from Alba.

Alba: ¡Estoy en casa a salvo, no te preocupes, nadie me mató!😉

(I’m home safely,don’t worry no one killed me!)

I chuckled at her messages and wished her a good night.

——

I’ve been in Barcelona for a full two weeks now, and to be honest, not much has changed. Alba was kind enough to introduce me to some of her closest friends, who turned out to be really nice and welcoming. It’s been great getting to know them.

However, there’s still no sign of that mysterious woman. I have to admit, I’ve visited the park multiple times over the past two weeks, hoping to see her again, but unfortunately, she hasn’t shown up. I think it might be time to move on and let go of the idea of meeting her again.

On a brighter note, Alba and I have grown much closer. We spend almost all of our free time together, and she’s been coming over to my place nearly every day.

Today, being a Saturday, Alba and I decided to go shopping together. We spent the entire afternoon wandering through various stores, and enjoying each other’s company. I absolutely love spending time with her; she’s genuinely the nicest and sweetest girl I’ve ever met.I feel incredibly fortunate to have such a wonderful friend by my side.

Alba, on the other hand, has been complaining non-stop because I made her walk instead of taking the car. She’s been whining about it all afternoon.

“Si hubiéramos tomado mi coche, ya estaríamos en casa ahora mismo” (If we had taken my car, we would already be home by now) she whined for what felt like the hundredth time.

“¡Caminar es bueno para ti, Alba!” (Walking is good for you, Alba!) I said cheerfully, trying to lighten the mood. She glared at me with a look of pure annoyance and retorted, “No, no lo es. Mis pies me están matando” (No, it’s not. My feet are killing me.)

We finally arrived in front of Alba’s apartment building after a long day. She turned to me and asked, “¿Te gustaría quedarte un rato?Mi hermana va a venir, me gustaría que la conocieras.”(Would you like to stay for a while?My sister is coming over,I’d like you to meet her.) I appreciated her offer but politely declined.

“No, gracias. Tengo mucho trabajo que debe terminarse antes del lunes ¡Conoceré a tu hermana otro día!”(No, thank you. I have a lot of work that needs to be finished before Monday.I’ll meet your sister another day!)

She nodded understandingly and then asked, “Está bien, no hay problema. ¿Te gustaría que te lleve a tu casa?” (Alright, no problem. Would you like me to drive you to your place?)

I smiled and shook my head. “No, no te preocupes. Deja que tus pies cansados descansen” (No, don’t worry about it. Let your tired feet get some rest) I replied reassuringly.

She laughed softly, and we shared a warm hug. She kissed me on both cheeks, and with a final wave, we said our goodbyes and parted ways.

I walked home, and as I got closer to my apartment, I started rummaging through my bag, searching for my keys. Distracted and not paying attention to where I was going, I accidentally bumped into someone dropping all my shopping bags.

“Oh my God! Lo siento mucho!” (I'm so sorry!) I exclaimed, looking up to see who I had collided with.

There she was.

I couldn't believe my eyes. Standing before me was the beautiful woman I had been inexplicably obsessed with for the past two weeks.

“Y/N?” she said, recognizing me instantly. Oh my God, she remembered my name.

“I... hi!” I responded, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. “I'm really sorry, I wasn't watching where I was going.”

“It's okay, do not worry about it” she reassured me with a smile. I took a moment to take in her appearance; she looked amazing. Her hair was down, and she was wearing a white cap, denim jeans, a white long-sleeve shirt, and a sleeveless vest.

I bent down to retrieve my bags, and she kindly assisted me in gathering everything. “Thank you” I said, expressing my gratitude once we had collected all the bags, and she handed them to me.

“You're welcome” she replied with a gentle smile. “You really did a lot of shopping” she added with a soft laugh, and I couldn't help but smile at her comment.

“Yes, I did. My friend definitely influenced me to buy quite a bit” I explained, and she laughed along with me.

“Well, it was really nice seeing you again, Y/N. I have to go now because my little sister is waiting for me” she informed me, her voice tinged with a hint of urgency.

“Oh, okay, sure. Have a wonderful time with your sister then!” I replied, offering her a soft smile. She returned the gesture warmly and began to walk away, her steps light and hurried.

“Wait!” I called out impulsively, unable to let the moment slip away. She turned around, a look of mild confusion etched on her face.

“You know my name, but I don't know yours” I said, my curiosity getting the better of me.

“Ah, si es verdad. Me llamo Alexia” (Ah yeah,that’s true my name is Alexia) she responded, her tone friendly and open.

“Okay, Alexia, that's a beautiful name!” I exclaimed, genuinely appreciating the sound of it. She smiled broadly at the compliment, her eyes sparkling with a hint of amusement.

Boosted by a sudden surge of confidence, I found myself asking, “Can I maybe have your number? You know, so we can stay in touch or maybe become friends...” My voice trailed off, the initial bravado giving way to a touch of nervousness.

She looked at me with a sympathetic expression and gently said, “Umm... I'm sorry, but I don't think it's a good idea” her words kind yet firm, smiling pitifully at me.

A wave of embarrassment washed over me, and I felt my cheeks flush with color. “Oh, it's okay, really... um... have a nice day” I mumbled, not waiting for her response.

I turned and walked away quickly, my heart pounding with a mixture of regret.

——

As I stepped into my apartment, a wave of intense embarrassment washed over me. I couldn't believe I had decided to be confident. Why, oh why, did I think that being bold would lead to anything good? Look where it got me—feeling utterly humiliated and regretful.

I made a solemn vow to myself that I would never, under any circumstances, bring up this humiliating moment again.

To help myself forget, I decided to immerse myself completely in the stack of paperwork that was piled up on my kitchen table. I hoped that by diving into the work I could push those embarrassing memories to the back of my mind and eventually erase them altogether.

——

On Monday, Alba arrived to pick me up for work. At this point, it had become a well-established routine; she would come to get me every morning and ensure I got home safely every evening. This daily ritual had become an integral part of our schedules, making our commutes together a regular and comforting part of my day.

“Estas bien?” (Are you okay?) Alba asked, her eyes filled with concern as she looked at me for a second before turning her eyes back to the road “Has estado muy callado esta mañana” (You've been very quiet this morning) she continued, her voice gentle but probing.

Truthfully, I was not okay. My mind was still preoccupied with the sting of rejection from Alexia last Saturday. It had been a difficult weekend, and my thoughts were consumed by what had happened. Yes, I am an overthinker, and I couldn't help but replay the moment over and over in my head, analyzing every details and wondering what went wrong.

Even though Alba has quickly become one of my closest friends here in Barcelona, I want to move past what happened, so I’d prefer not to share it with her.

“Estoy solo cansada, nada demasiado grave.” (I'm just exhausted, nothing too bad) I said, flashing her a gentle smile in an attempt to put her at ease. She seemed skeptical, but thankfully, she didn’t press for more details.

To comfort me, she placed her hand on my thigh and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Parecía que todos se sentían decaídos” (It seemed like everyone is feeling low) she sighed heavily. “¿Por qué? ¿Qué pasó?” (Why? What happened?) I asked her.

“Mi hermana conoció a esta chica, y aunque no la conoce muy bien, la encontró muy atractiva. Sin embargo, siente que debido a su trabajo, no puede salir con nadie en este momento... así que esencialmente se está impidiendo encontrar el amor.”(My sister encountered this girl, and although she doesn't know her that well, she found her very appealing. However, she feels that because of her job, she can't date anyone right now... so she's essentially stopping herself from finding love) She told me looking kinda sad for her sister

“Eso es realmente desafortunado. ¿Qué tipo de trabajo tiene tu hermana que le impide encontrar el amor?” (That's really unfortunate. What kind of job does your sister have that prevents her from finding love?) I inquired.

“Ella es futbolista profesional, y su agenda está llena de entrenamientos y viajes.” (She's a professional footballer, and her schedule is packed with training and traveling) she explained.

“¡Wow , ¿es futbolista profesional? ¡Eso es increíble! ¡No puedo creer que nunca me lo hayas mencionado antes!” (Wow, she's a professional footballer? That's amazing! I can't believe you never mentioned that before!) I exclaimed, giving her a slightly reproachful look. “Pero es realmente lamentable que ella sienta que no merece amor solo por su carrera tan exigente” (But it's really unfortunate that she feels she doesn't deserve love just because of her demanding career)

“Sí, lo es, pero afortunadamente para ella, tiene a la hermana más increíble que la llevará a salir esta noche y la ayudará a olvidarse de todo eso. ¡Noche de hermanas!” (Yes, it is, but fortunately for her, she has the most amazing sister who will take her out tonight and help her forget all about it. Sister night!) Alba declared proudly.

“¡Sí! La mejor hermana del mundo” (Yes! Best sister ever) I responded with playful sarcasm, matching her enthusiasm.

“Solo estás celosa porque no tienes la oportunidad de tener una hermana como yo” (You're just jealous because you don't get to have a sister like me) she teased, giving me a pinch on the thigh where her hand had been resting.

I laughed, turned up the radio, and started singing along to Lana Del Rey.

——

It’s been a month since I’ve been in Barcelona now, and everything has been absolutely perfect, well, minus the rejection incident from Alexia…

Work has been exceptionally good, and with the generous help of my parents, I was finally able to purchase a car, which has made life so much easier.

Alba and I have grown closer than ever. Our bond is very platonic and sisterly, and she’s been eager for me to meet her family. She especially wants me to meet her sister, with whom she shares a very close relationship, from what I understand.

That's why, at this very moment, I'm seated at a cozy bar with Alba and four of our friends. We're eagerly waiting for her sister to join us, and I'm looking forward to meeting her.

If her sister is even half as nice and amazing as Alba, I'm sure I'm going to absolutely love meeting her. I'm really looking forward to it, especially since Alba has set such a high standard with her wonderful personality.

“Alba,donde está Ale, tengo hambre!” (Alba, where’s Ale? I’m hungry) Bianca, one of Alba’s friends who has also become my friend, asked Alba with a slight whine.

“Acaba de enviarme un mensaje. Su partido duró más de lo esperado y ahora tiene algunas entrevistas que hacer, así que llegará un poco tarde.” (She just texted me. Her match went on longer than expected, and now she has some interviews to do, so she’ll be a bit late) Alba responded, her eyes fixed on her phone as she typed back.

Bianca giggled a little and said, “Ah, no hay descanso para La Reina.” (Ah, no rest for La Reina.)

From what I understand, Alba’s sister is an exceptional football player, which is why she’s called “La Reina.”

Honestly, I haven’t looked up much about her since I find football really boring and I hate it.

“Vale, ¿entonces supongo que podemos pedir algunas bebidas?” (Okay, so I guess we can order some drinks then?) Marco, one of our other friends, asked.

“Sí, vamos a pedir. Ella no estará aquí por un rato” (Yes, let’s just order. She won’t be here for a while) Alba responded.

We all picked up the menus and decided on our drinks and some food too. After a few minutes of discussion and suggestions, we placed our orders with the waiter. The atmosphere was lively as we chatted and laughed, waiting for our orders to arrive.

About thirty minutes later, I got a call from my best friend Madison, which is odd since she usually texts, she doesn't call.

I excused myself from the table and stepped outside where it's quieter.

Answering the phone, I heard a frantic Madison, “Where are you, girl!?”

Confused, I replied, “What do you mean, where am I? I'm in Barcelona. Are you drunk?”

Madison's voice was joined by my other best friend Carter, “No, we're not! We're outside your apartment, but you're not here.”

Shocked, I exclaimed, “WHAT! What do you mean you're outside my apartment? You guys are in Barcelona?!”

Excitedly, Madison confirmed, “Yes, baby, we are!!! We wanted to surprise you, but you're not at your place. Where are you?”

Realizing the situation, I quickly said, “Oh, I'm at a bar with some friends. I'll say goodbye and be there in 10 minutes.”

“Okayyy, we'll wait! Hurry up” Madison replied before hanging up.

I made my way back inside the bar, feeling a mix of emotions.

“¿Está todo bien?” (Is everything alright) Alba asked me, concern evident in her eyes as she saw me returning to the booth where we were all sitting.

“Sí, todo está bien” (Yes, everything is fine) I assured her, “pero tengo que irme” (but I have to leave) I added.

“¡No! ¿Por qué? Ale me envió un mensaje y me dijo que llegará pronto.” (No! Why? Ale texted me she’ll be here soon) she informed me, frowning.

“Lo siento mucho, pero mis amigos acaban de llamarme y están en Barcelona. Fue una sorpresa, y ahora están esperándome frente a mi apartamento.” (I’m really sorry, but my friends just called me and they are in Barcelona. It was a surprise, and now they are waiting for me in front of my apartment) I explained, feeling a little bad.

“¡Está bien, ve a ver a tus amigos! Ya la conocerás otro día.” (That’s okay, go see your friends. You’ll meet her another day) she replied, understanding and supportive.

I went around the table to give each one of them a hug and a kiss on the cheek, saying goodbye.

As I left the bar and made my way through the parking lot to my car, I was so eager to see my friends again that I wasn't paying attention and almost got hit by a car. Luckily, the driver stopped just in time.

I turned towards the car, a black Cupra, and gestured with my hand to apologize to the driver. Although I couldn't see the person clearly, I could tell it was a blonde woman.

She gestured back to let me know it was okay, and I continued on to my car.

After a 10-minute drive, I arrived at my apartment and saw Madison and Carter waiting in front of the building.

"Hey!" I called out, waving excitedly. They looked up, grinned widely, and ran towards me, calling my name repeatedly.

I laughed and met them halfway. We hugged and jumped around, thrilled to see each other after a month.

“Alright, let's head Inside” I suggested as we made our way back to the building.

“How long are you planning on staying ?” I inquired. “Just a quick 3-day visit” Carter responded. I grinned, “I'm so excited you guys are here! I've got so much to tell you”

After they freshened up and changed into more relaxed outfits, I filled them in on my Barcelona adventures, sharing stories about Alba, my friends, work, and life in the city.

“So, any luck in the love department?” Carter teased, wiggling his eyebrows. “Not quite” I confessed, feeling a tad embarrassed, "there was this girl, but she rejected me when I asked for her number."

Madison and Carter exchanged glances before erupting into laughter. I shot them a mock glare, “Not funny, guys” playfully hitting them with a pillow.

“It's funny” they both said simultaneously. I huffed at them and give them the finger.

After their laughter died down, Carter reassured me, “Don't worry, there are plenty of other fish in the sea; you'll find someone else.” Madison chimed in, “Yeah, that girl doesn't know what she's missing.”

“Thanks, guys! I love you” I said, smiling softly at them. “We love you too” they responded, and I jumped on them hugging them tightly.

——

Those three days flew by so quickly, but we had an amazing time nonetheless. They met Alba and her friends, and although the language barrier posed a bit of a challenge, we managed to get by.

Naturally, we went shopping, hit the beach, and enjoyed the nightlife—basically all the fun things you can do in Barcelona.

When it was time to say goodbye, I dropped off Madi and Carter at the airport, giving them tight hugs and receiving their promise that they would visit again soon.

——

“¿Qué vas a hacer el sábado por la noche?”(What are you doing on Saturday night?) Alba asked me as we enjoyed our lunch break at school.

“No mucho, ¿por qué?” (Not much, why?) I replied, taking a bite of my pasta.

“¡Ale está jugando y tengo entradas! ¡Por favor, ven conmigo!” (Ale is playing, and I got tickets! Please come with me!) Alba pleaded.

“Alba, sabes que no me gusta el fútbol.” (Alba, you know that I don’t like football) I said.

“Lo sé, y a mí tampoco, pero es mi hermana la que juega. Es una gran oportunidad para que la conozcas” (I know, and neither am I, but it’s my sister playing. It’s a great chance for you to meet her) she explained. “Además, después del partido, vamos a cenar con mi mamá, y también puedes conocerla an ella.” (Plus, after the match, we’re going out to dinner with my mom, and you can meet her too.)

I considered it for a moment. “Okay, pero solo porque voy a conocer a tu familia.” (Alright, fine, but only because I get to meet your family) I agreed. She cheered and leaned over the table to give me a kiss on the cheek.

——

I was in my apartment with Alba, getting ready to go to her sister's game—Barcelona against Real Sociedad. According to Alba, it should be an easy win.

“¡Oh! ¡Tengo un regalo para ti! No te pongas una camiseta.” (Oh! I have a gift for you! Don't put on a shirt) she exclaimed, standing up from the couch and heading towards her bag.

She pulled out a Barcelona jersey.

“¿Qué es eso?” (What's that?) I asked, examining the jersey. “Es la camiseta de mi hermana. Mira, ese es su nombre en la parte de atrás.” (It's my sister's jersey. Look, that's her name on the back) she said, turning the jersey around so I could see. It had Alexia written with the number 11 below her name.

That name brings back some embarrassing memories...

“Espera, pensé que el nombre de tu hermana era Ale” (Wait, I thought your sister's name was Ale) I said, confused.

“No, "Ale" es su apodo, su nombre real es Alexia.Ale no es ni siquiera un nombre real” (No, Ale is her nickname. Her real name is Alexia. Ale isn't even a real name) she explained as if it were obvious.

“Bueno, para mi era real. ¡Tú y todos tus amigos la llamaban así!” (Well, it was real to me! You and all your friends called her that!) I replied.

“Sí, porque ese es su apodo. ¡Todos la llaman así! De todos modos, aquí, póntelo. ¡Es para ti!” (Yes, because that's her nickname. Everyone calls her that! Anyway, here, put it on. It's for you) she said, handing me the jersey.

“¡Oye! ¿Por qué tengo que usar uno yo y tú no?” (Hey! Why do I have to wear one and you don't?) I complained.

“¡Porque es el primer juego que verás en persona! Necesitas experimentar todo al máximo.” (Because it's the first game you'll see in person. You need to experience the full thing) she said excitedly.

I rolled my eyes but put on the jersey anyway.

“Vamos mi amor” (Let's go, my love) she said excitedly and slapped my butt. I laughed at her and grabbed my bag as we exited my apartment and headed to the stadium.

Once we arrived at the stadium, we settled into our seats, which were quite close to the tunnel where the players come out.

While Alba was preoccupied with her phone, I took in the atmosphere of the stadium, noticing that many fans were wearing jerseys with Alexia's name. She must be an exceptional player for so many people to sport her jersey.

“Tengo hambre, voy a buscar algo de comida. ¿Quieres algo?” (I'm starving, I'm going to grab some food. Do you want anything?) Alba asked as she stood up from her seat.

“No, gracias” (No, thanks) I replied, glancing up at her. She nodded and walked off.

Lost in my thoughts, I was suddenly brought back by the sound of cheers from the crowd. Turning my head, I saw players emerging from the tunnel for their pre-match warm-up.

The cheers grew even louder as a blonde player stepped out. I couldn't see her face, only her back and her blonde hair tied in a ponytail.

When she turned around to greet the fans it felt like time stood still. There she was, the woman who had turned me down!

I couldn't believe what I was seeing, so I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. What is happening?I- I’m speechless. So I got rejected by a famous football player then… great…

I can't believe it. Alexia is a football player and a very famous one. She—

Wait... Alexia... Alexia... Ale—Oh my God, are you kidding me?! Alba's sister is Alexia, my Alexia??? The woman I thought about almost every night before bed and who rejected me!

Alba came back with her bowl of popcorn in hand, but I was so shocked I couldn't move... How the heck did I not realize this before?

“Estas bien?” (Are you okay?) Alba asked, noticing my state. "No" was all I could respond.

She put her hand on my thigh. “Que paso? (What happened?) she asked. I looked her in the eyes.”Tu hermana es Alexia” (Your sister is Alexia) She frowned. “Sí, te lo dije” (Yeah, I told you that) she replied.

“Alexia es la chica de la que te hablé esa noche en el restaurante de sushi,la que encuentro al restaurante, la que me pareció hermosa pero de la que no sabía nada...” (Alexia is the girl I told you about that night at the sushi restaurant, the one that I met at a restaurant and I thought was beautiful but knew nothing about...) I said, looking her in the eyes.

“¡¿Qué?! ¿Eres la chica por la que ha estado deprimida durante semanas?!” (What?! You're the girl she's been depressed about for weeks?!) she practically screamed, surprised.

[aroiteroi]

☃Welcome back☃

Un largo día de caza para Izuku, que termina en un fuerte abrazo a manos de su persona especial🧡

~Repost October 2023 ☕ Support my artworks by donating in Ko-fi

[glitterquadricorn]

My Tears Ricochet - f1 grid x indycar!reader

+summary: after a devastating end of a six-year relationship, she decided a change was needed. a change that ultimately brings her more opportunities, and she even finds love in an unexpected place. +pairing: f1 grid x indycar!driver +warnings: cheating, curse words, pregnancy, betrayal, mentions sexism, mentions misogyny, etc. If I missed something, let me know. face claim: tony breidinger dedicated to @fangirl-dot-com. They helped me so much whenever I got stuck. I highly recommend them. Their fics are so good. I do not give my permission to have my work reposted. I do not give my permission to have my work translated. If I'm notified that you've stolen my work or claim it as your own, you'll be asked to take it down before I'll report you. End of discussion.

The way Wyatt became possessive over his phone when before he'd always let her use it was concerning, but she brushed it off thinking maybe it was just a one-time thing. Then she noticed whenever she stepped into the room, and he was on the phone, he'd leave or if they were in the room together and his phone rang, he'd get up and answer it in a different room. The thought of him cheating on her crossed her mind at one point, but he wouldn't do that, right?

Right? Wrong.

Stepping into the house after a long flight, all she wanted to do was take a nice hot shower to scrub off the airport griminess and cuddle with Wyatt on the couch, but walking through the house, she noticed articles of clothing strewn about. 'That's weird' she thought to herself. Her ears picked up moaning sounds coming from their shared bedroom. Hearing lewd sounds like that made her blood run cold. Wyatt was cheating on her, but with whom?

Opening the door to their bedroom, she was met with Wyatt having her barely eighteen-year-old sister, Elizabeth, bent over the side of the bed.

"What the hell is going on?!"

Wyatt pushed Elizabeth forward, letting her hit the mattress. "Y/n, babe, this isn't what it looks like."

"Really? Because to me it looks like you were just balls deep in my sister." her eyes darted to said sister who's twirling her hair in-between her fingers and kicking her feet back and forth all with a smug look on her face. "And you! You're my sister. How could you do this to me?"

"I've loved him for years and it wasn't fair that you had him all to yourself."

"So, you thought it was a good idea for you to sleep with him?! Do you hear yourself?"

Elizabeth got up from the bed and walked over to Wyatt, wrapping her arms around his waist. "It's not the first time we've slept together."

"What does she mean, Wyatt?"

"Go ahead, babe. Tell her, or I will," Wyatt looking down at his feet hesitating to tell her was everything she needed to know that whatever's been going on between the two of them has been going on for a while. "Since he won't say anything, we've been together for eight months."

"Eight months?!?! Un-fucking-believable."

"Is now a bad time to say I'm pregnant- wait, what are you doing?" Elizabeth asked, watching as y/n left the bedroom, muttering under her breath about how her own sister was a backstabbing, home wrecking whore.

"I'm picking yours and his clothes up off the floor and throwing them in the trash where they belong."

"You can't do that!"

"Seeing as this is my house, I can do what I want and I'm just cleaning up the mess you left behind as per usual."

"But-"

Y/n walked over to the front door, opening it and gestured for her to leave. "I don't care where you go, or who you go to, because you are no longer welcomed here."

With no other choice, Elizabeth dug hers and Wyatt's clothes out of the trash and got dressed. Once they were gone, she wasted no time in reaching for her rather expensive tequila and drank it straight from the bottle.

"Who needs boyfriends when you have a sister like Elizabeth."

liked by josefnewgarden, scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, and 1,239,512 others

yourinstagram italy photo dump.

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josefnewgarden where was my invite?

⤷ yourinstagram it got lost in the mail.

user1 I find it a little weird that she's in Maranello 🤔

⤷user2 everyone takes a vacation to Maranello, so it's not that weird.

⤷user1 maybe but wearing a Ferrari jacket and going to the Ferrari Museum and then taking a picture of the prancing horse? its sus to me.

user3 If you go to formula one, I swear to God I'll scream.

*liked by yourinstagram*

⤷user4 Y/N LIKED?!?

⤷user5 this pretty much confirms she's going to f1.

user6 that jacket is sooooo cute!

ScuderiaFerrari red looks good on you.

*liked by yourinstagram*

⤷user7 ARIANA WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!

user8 there's a reason why there hasn't been a woman in formula one in thirty-three years.

⤷user9 and its because formula one is for men and not women.

⤷user10 if she does to f1, she'll choke under the pressure and go back to indycar.

She'd be lying if she said listening to the Ferrari higher ups talk about what was expected of her once she signed the contract wasn't lowkey terrifying. Ferrari was the dream team. A team every driver wanted to be a part of because of its past successes and rich history. And who wouldn't want to join the likes of Fangio, Lauda, Prost and Schumacher in the Ferrari Hall of fame?

"You with us, y/n?" her lawyer set his hand on her shoulder, getting her attention.

"I'm sorry, but can you repeat that?"

"As we were saying, Ferrari goes deeper than just a brand of car. Many individuals have joined over the years, but many have also cracked under the pressure. Are you sure you can handle it?"

"Oh! Definitely."

"If you're so sure, then sign away," Fred slid the contract over the sleek oak table and handed her a pen, hurriedly signing her name on the dotted line. As she set the pen down, it hit her. She was, as of that moment, a formula one driver for Scuderia Ferrari.

She stood up, shaking everyone's hand, stopping at Fred. "Thank you for taking a chance on me. I won't let you down."

"I know you won't." The small French man smiled. "Now, would you like a tour?"

Nodding her head, an older Ferrari employee guided them to the door and started going from room to room, talking intensively about anything and everything Ferrari. It was one thing to see pictures of past drivers and read their achievements, but to lay eyes on the multiple rows of championship winning cars was another. It only made the excitement grow.

That same Ferrari employee saw Charles and immediately waved him over. "Charles! Mate, come meet your new teammate!"

When their eyes met, it was like everything slowed down. It felt as if no one else was in the room but them. Just then, a warm, fuzzy feeling washed over her, and a small flutter of butterflies tickled inside her body. Was this love at first sight? But she just met Charles. There's no way she could possibly fall in love with her new teammate Right?

The corners of the Monegasques' mouth curved into a grin. "I'm Charles."

"I'm Y/n."

His trainer and the Ferrari employee exchanged looks and knew something special had happened between the two drivers. No one looks at someone like that and does not end up together.

"As much as I'd love to stay and chat, I got to get going. We should get together sometime and get to know each other since we're going to be teammates."

"I'd love that!"

They swapped phones, putting each other's numbers in. As the tour continued, she looked over her shoulder and watched him walk away, completely ignoring the Ferrari employee. The season couldn't start fast enough.

liked by yourinstagram, charles_leclerc, josefnewgarden and 4,325,124 others.

scuderiaferrari pushing past expectations and shattering glass ceilings, y/n y/ln makes history by being the first woman since Giovanna Amati in 1992 to race in formula one. Everyone here at Ferrari can't wait to see what you achieve!

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yourinstagram racing for Ferrari has always been a dream of mine since I was a kid and now that's coming to fruition feels amazing. thank you for this opportunity.

⤷scuderiaferrari 🥰❤️

user1 time to stop watching formula one.

⤷user2 if you're going to stop watching formula one all because a woman joined the grid, then that's says a lot about you as a person.

charles_leclerc the season can't start fast enough!

*liked by yourinstagram*

user3 while I'm sad to see her leave IndyCar, I'm excited to see her race in formula one.

lewishamilton this is not only inspirational to me, but many women who want to get into motorsports, or even formula one, but don't because of the rampant sexism and misogyny. I know your career in formula one is going to bright!

⤷yourinstagram you have no idea how much this means to me!

user4 with charles and y/n Ferrari will be unstoppable.

*liked by scuderiaferrari*

user5 Ferrari dominance will bore people.

user6 Ferrari wdc and wcc confirmed!

part two will have ALL the drama.

tagging:

@letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked @patzammit @tinycyberhacker @keenmarvellover @mrspeacem1nusone @lendeluxe @alexxavicry @allenajade-ite @catswag22 @eugene-emt-roe @wcnorris @bibissparkles @cherry-piee @khaylin27 @evie-119

[ham1lton]

PRETTY GIRL ROCK!

pairings: oscar piastri x reader, max verstappen x reader, charles leclerc x reader, lewis hamilton x reader, lando norris x reader, carlos sainz jr x reader.

summary: how they react to your instagram selfies.

faceclaims in order of appearance: rayan.elz // sana from twice // phaithmontoya // mina el hammani // simone ashley // iamangejose.

author’s note: if u liked this work, check out my masterlist or leave me a tip! <3

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

liked by bestie1, oscarpiastri and 12,828 others.

yourusername: sun, sea and sand ☀️

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user1: yn ur so pretty!!!

-> user2: ur hair colour is to die for!!

oscarpiastri: gorgeous 😻

-> yourusername: blushing and giggling and kicking my feet.

oscarpiastri: u look so pretty.

oscarpiasti: can’t stop staring at you.

bestie1: the cutest ginger ever 💗 my lil ron weasley

-> yourusername: stfuuu 😭

user3: where did u go??

-> yourusername: on a beach break with some friends! <3

user4: yn marry me 😍

-> oscarpiastri: ew 🤢

-> oscarpiastri: no 🤢

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

liked by bestie2, maxverstappen1 and 27,128 others.

yourusername: photo dump! but mainly selfies. is it really a yn post if i don’t mostly add selfies?

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user1: beauty and brains!!!

user2: where is the second pic from?

-> yourusername: i was invited to speak at the united nations about my dissertation. it was focusing on the link between poverty and environmentalism. 💕

-> user3: omg??? how did max bag YOU????

-> user4: yn being invited to the un and max can barely finish a book LMFAO

-> maxverstappen1: whoever envies another confesses his superiority 🙏🏻

bestie2: MY BESTIE IS SO HOT 😻

-> yourusername: MY BESTIE IS HOTTER 😾

maxverstappen1: you’re so hot.

-> yourusername: don’t flirt with me under my own post. what if my bf sees?

-> maxverstappen1: i’ll kill him.

-> yourusername: plausible deniability babe.

-> maxverstappen1: i’ll kill him? 🤷🏼‍♂️ // joke

-> yourusername: better 👩🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏼

-> user5: y’all both weird LMFAO

-> user6: i get why they’re together now 😭

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

liked by bestie3, roscoelovescoco and 382,128 others.

yourusername: ny, you’ve been so good to me and thank u all for 500k! <3

view all comments

user1: i wanna be yn so bad

user2: did u see the rats?? are they scary 😭

-> yourusername: god they’re so scary!! i saw one square up with a bodega cat. like… i thought y’all were scared of cats??!! WHAT 😭

user3: 500k!! can’t wait to see what u do for a million followers!!

lewishamilton: roscoe misses u 🙏🏾

-> yourusername: you mean his dad misses me?

-> lewishamilton: 😎😉

user4: where are those boots from?

-> yourusername: they’re vintage! lewis bought them for me <3

user5: stunning stunning girl!!

user6: googling how to be lewis hamilton rn

bestie3: LOVE UUUUU BABE <3

-> yourusername: LOVE UU MORE MWAH 💕

lewishamilton: my beautiful girl 🫶🏽

-> yourusername: love u 👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏾

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

liked by bestie4, carlossainz55 and 68,828 others.

yourusername: taking a break from filming!! hope everyone is having a fun summer!!! 💗

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user1: her back is sooo smooth??? HOW?!

-> user2: my bacne says hello 😔

user3: so jealous those drinks look sooo good!!

carlossainz55: mi princesa 😍

-> yourusername: mi amor 👩🏽‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻

carlossainz55: text me back please 🫶🏼

landonorris: jolene don’t steal my man away from me 😔

-> yourusername: he’s mine. stay mad 😻

bestie4: ur welcome for the last pic babe <3

-> yourusername: my girl ily <3

user5: obsessed with u. marry ME instead of carlos PLEASE.

carlossainz55: please answer my call mi vida 💗💗

-> yourusername: omw !!

user6: can’t wait until u come back on our screens again!!

user7: her natural curls r so gorgeous omg!!

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

liked by bestie5, charles_leclerc and 182,928 others.

yourusername: skiing is my one true love <3

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user1: the last pic is so model of u yn.

user2: the dog!! ur so adorable!!

user3: these are some rich people activities.

charles_leclerc: just collapsed. you’re so beautiful.

-> yourusername: seriously??!!

-> charles_leclerc: it’s no big deal. you get used to it when you have a gorgeous girlfriend 🤷🏻‍♂️

-> user4: need a man likes charles omg

bestie5: need that hat it’s so cute!!

-> yourusername: u know what’s mine is urs babe x

charles_leclerc: you’re so stunning.

charles_leclerc: like i already knew it but WOW.

-> user5: how often do you have breakdowns due to yn’s beauty?

-> charles_leclerc: very often 😁

user6: so jealous of charles rn….

charles_leclerc: marry me

-> yourusername: i already said yes babe 😭

-> charles_leclerc: just wanted a reminder 😁

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

liked by bestie6, landonorris and 32,938 others.

yourusername: self care weekend and a new hairstyle! what do you all think? <3

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user1: oh no y’all… i can already hear lando typing…

user2: it’s giving storm 😻

-> yourusername: biggest compliment!! she’s so gorgeous!! halle was my first crush 💕

user3: LANDO GIVE ME UR GAME CARD HELLO

landonorris: i want u so bad

landonorris: oh my god

bestie5: i ate with that install ong 😍

-> yourusername: yesss u did that’s my bestie!!!

landonorris: 🐕

-> landonorris: rocky get back here!! my bad lol yourusername. he just be running off sometimes. but what’s up tho… u single? 😁

-> user4: OH NAHHHH 😭😭😭😭

-> user5: who tf is ROCKY bro has lost it 😭😭😭

landonorris: ur so pretty

landonorris: need u actually.

landonorris: ur hair is gorgeous <3 just like you.

-> yourusername: thank you baby 😽

-> landonorris: OMG U RESPONDED AHHHHH

-> landonorris: frothing at the mouth. kicking my feet. twirling my hair.

-> user6: all signs of rabies which has a 100% kill rate. i’ll date your gf when u go <3

-> landonorris: NO 😡🖕🏼FUCK OFF !!!

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

— all works taglist: @luvsforme @yelenasloverrrrr @donttouchthegnote @chelle1306 @bloodyymaryy @aliciaablueprint @km-23mr @stinkyjax @f1kenzzz @ctrlyomomma @theblueblub @marshmummy @23victoria @ourlifeforchaos @namgification @tallrock35 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ariellovelynn @shhhchriss @lifeless-firefly @xylinasdiary @evie-119 @itseightbeats @tsireyasgf @landososcar @yongi-lee @maxlarens @velentine @m1892 @blushmimi @evans-dejong @nixisracing @lethalvenus @sainzluvrr @santanasaintmendes @idontknowlmaoo

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.1 gojo satoru sent you a message

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 1/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 1.3k (short one to start off, but the rest are longer)

a/n. welcome to this pilot chapter! this was originally going to be a one-shot but i got way too carried away and ended up planning out a whole series. i hope you enjoy!

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☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

|| 2:13AM Gojo Satoru has requested to follow you

You blink the sleepiness in your eyes away as the harsh light of your phone hits your face. Somewhere in the middle of the crazy dream you were having, you heard your phone incessantly pinging and eventually woke you up to make you realize you forgot to turn the ringer off before going to sleep. Among all the spam email, iCloud storage warnings, and news headliners, there was one notification in particular that had you wondering if you were still dreaming.

“Ugh…y/n, please, turn your phone off,” you heard your roommate Mina mumble in the twin sized bed at the other end of the room as she shuffled her pillow above her head so that it covered both of her ears. You glance out the window of your shared apartment, peering at the pale moonlight, before your tired and heavy eyes travel back to your phone and press on the Instagram notification.

Suspecting this was maybe some prank account, you clicked on the small icon in your inbox that took you to a profile page. Gojo Satoru, Senior at University of Tokyo, Business Major, D1 Soccer #10, SAE. 12k followers, 172 following, 38 posts. 

Still thinking you’re dreaming, you accept the follow request and watch as the number on his following increases by one, now 173. Your thumb swipes up on your phone as you take in the square images of his profile. Pictures of him and his friends recreating memes…food that he’s eaten recently…frequent vacation posts in exotic countries…and a whole lot of what seemed to be professionally taken soccer photos of him striking goals and hitting balls with his head in mid air. You have put a lot of effort into your own Instagram photos (despite your modest 464 followers), mostly posting compilation slideshows of your favorite film photos that you’ve taken recently, yet somehow his feed looks much more inviting than yours.

You turn onto your side and continue to look through his photos. 624 comments, 373 comments, 958 comments. Many were from his friends trying to embarrass him, and many others were from girls that probably wanted him to notice them. You noticed he only really replied to comments from his friends. 

You knew who he was, of course. Gojo Satoru was one of the most, if not the most, popular guys on your college campus. When you got to college, you thought the whole “social hierarchy” thing would be over but it still seemed like there were certain groups of people that almost everyone knew about, "elite" individuals who other students could only dream of associating with. At UTokyo, the fraternities and sororities practically owned the place so of course Gojo was well-known since he was a member of the school’s most iconic frat, SAE. Not to mention, the school adored its soccer team–undefeated since 2012–and Gojo Satoru was the most talented center forward the division has seen in years. 

But as for why he requested to follow you, a film major that doesn’t play any sports and isn’t even in a sorority, well you’re just not sure. 

It’s then when you get yet another notification. 

“Oh my god, y/n, turn it off!” Mina mumbles into her mattress. You click the side button to turn off the ringer. 

|| 2:24AM Gojo Satoru sent you a message 

Your heart starts to beat a bit faster as you quickly slide to your DMs page. You notice three unread conversations from a few of your friends, probably from when they decided to send you their entire explore page, and then you see a little (1) next to your message requests box. When you open it, you see his icon in your inbox. It’s a simple picture of him in his soccer jersey, his smile wide as one of his team members who was mostly cropped out of the photo seemed to be putting him in a headlock. You see the first few words of the message.

|| 2:24AM Gojo Satoru: Hey, sorry if this is weir…

You’re about to click on it when you stop yourself. It was really late at night and you didn’t know if you wanted to entertain a conversation with this man you knew literally nothing about (at least on a personal level) and weren’t even sure why he was messaging you in the first place. Plus, he would see that you’ve read it and so you would feel anxious to respond. But there was no way to see his full message unless you opened it. Even though you considered this to be weirdly intimate since it was a message sent at two in the morning, you figured that was probably normal for the likes of people like Gojo Satoru, who probably were out drinking and partying until five in the morning every night, regardless of any 8AM lectures or not. 

But unfortunately, curiosity always kills the cat (that’s the expression, right?) and so you click on his message. 

|| 2:24AM Gojo Satoru: Hey, sorry if this is weird…I don’t think we’ve ever met before, but my buddy’s really into your roommate, and he’s tried to invite her out to our frat’s house parties but he’s had no luck. Think you could convince her to come this weekend? You’re welcome to come too, of course

You blink in surprise before rolling your eyes, not entirely sure why you were expecting any different. Maybe Mina wasn’t budging on his friend’s advances because she wants to be asked out on an actual date, and not to some house party. But you figured frat guys wouldn’t really understand that. Besides, how did he know that you were her roommate? You’re just about to type a response when you see three little dots in the left side corner, indicating he was typing, and you hold your breath.

|| 2:27AM Gojo Satoru: Here are the details

And then he sends you a post from what looks like his fraternity’s Instagram page. There’s an address, a time, the name of the DJ and girls get in free bolded at the top. You realize you’ve never even been invited to a fraternity’s house party until this very moment. 

You briefly consider not responding to him and just setting your phone back down on your nightstand, rolling over, and falling asleep. But you find your fingers moving on their own to type.

|| 2:31AM You: you’re messaging me to help your friend get with my roommate?

There’s an uncomfortable two minutes where there’s no response from him and for some reason your anxiety is through the roof. You remember the countless times you’ve heard people describe Gojo Satoru in passing: there’s just something about him that demands your attention. 

His notification pops up at the top of the Instagram app when you were scrolling through reels to distract yourself and you accidentally clicked on it too fast. 

|| 2:33AM Gojo Satoru: Uh, yeah? 

You sigh as you ponder the proposition. You don’t even know for sure why Mina wasn’t really responding to his friend’s advances, maybe the guy was a creep or just not her type. And even if she was somewhat interested in him, she’s already refused to go to any of their frat’s house parties, so how would you be able to persuade her? 

You finally convince yourself you’ve had enough of Gojo’s messages for the night and you’ll choose whether or not you want to revisit the topic again in the morning, until another message flashes across your screen.

|| 2:38AM Gojo Satoru: What can I do to get you to convince her to come this weekend?

You bite down on your lip at his question, and an idea flashes through your mind.

|| 2:40AM You: i’ll find a way to convince her. my terms and conditions will come later

He responds in a second.

|| 2:40AM Gojo Satoru: Deal 

a/n. dude literally slid into your DMs lol. thank you for reading! i also post this story over on AO3, if you're more into that format, but i just wanted to start posting over here on tumblr too. hope to see you in the next one!

➸ take me to chapter two!