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#I JUST LOVE OUR TIME TRAVELING DETECTIVE
ministarfruit · 2 years
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day 27: did it for you ♡
(prompt list for femslashfeb)
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billiewena · 11 months
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THREE YEARS SINCE NOV 5TH, 2020 as summed up by Supernatural (sequel to this and this)
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image ID & context below:
[image ID: screenshots of Supernatural paired with screenshots of various tweets, news headlines and Tumblr posts.
A screenshot of Ed and Harry in SPN 3x13 Ghostfacers saying "You gotta be gay for that poor dead intern" with a screenshot of Misha Collins at the SPNNJ 2023 convention saying "I got a call from Warner Bros and they were like hey uh...is there any world you just let it go?" This is in reference to an incident in 2022 where Misha accidentally made headlines after a comment that seemed to be referring to his sexuality. His comments at this year's panel imply that the studio in fact did not want him to retract the comment and make the apology that he posted, but to instead just roll with it.
A screenshot of Bobby saying "Time travel?" and Dean saying "Yeah" in SPN 6x18 with a headline that says "Jensen Ackles' Explains The Winchester's Multiverse Twist & Supernatural Connection." This is about the series finale of Jensen's Supernatural spinoff "The Winchesters", in which it is revealed Dean and the Impala somehow traveled the multiverse to the alternate timeline the show takes place in.
A screenshot of Dean in SPN 15x08 saying "He's back, and he's out of control" with a screenshot of Misha Collin's first Tumblr post in seven years, a video with him and his brother being a public nuisance on public transportation. Also included are screenshots of various Tumblr users reacting with tags from various tumblr users. becauseofthebowties: "mishacollinsofficial tumblr account back from the dead???" myboobsarentsentientbeings: "this is the first thing he posts? after nearly 7 years???" casismybestfriend: "RED FUCKING ALERT MISHA IS BACK ON TUMBLR" cannabiscasgate: "who the fuck gave you back your password"
A screenshot of two news anchors in SPN 14x20, with one (named Jack) telling his co-host "I love you" and her replying "Jack?" with screenshots of the Destiel/Supernatural Confession meme trending multiple times this year with other current events topics like Russia, Titanic, etc. There is also a screenshot of a post by saintedcastiel that says "I cannot believe that since we started using the destiel meme as a breaking news alert that there hasn't been ONE destiel news anchor AU fic where they're co-anchors on the morning news. cas confessed on accident while they're on air and dean doesn't know how to respond so he just reads the next thing on the teleprompter."
A screenshot of Dean in SPN 5x14 as Cupid says "I-I was just following orders" with a screenshot of an anonymous Tumblr ask to user luxshine. The ask says "Hey! I was wondering if you have any updates on the LATAM dub situation and if you were/will able to contact the dub director". luxshine says "Hi! Well I could get the translator (you know, our dear rogue translator) and he told me that while he doesn't remember it completely (because he translates a lot of series) if Dean said "And I you" it's because the script he got said "And" I you" and the video he saw said "And I you" because he doesn't add stuff." This is in reference to a change in Spanish LATAM dub of Castiel's confession SPN 15x18, which added a line where Dean reciprocates, which was previously suspected to be a change added by the LATAM dubbing director or translator
A screenshot of a detective from SPN 8x08 saying, "[Chuckles] Whatever you say Scully" with a screenshot of the tumble blr blog ao3topshipsbracket's poll "AO3 Top Relationships Bracket - Round 2 Side 1" with Fox Mulder/Dana Scully (The X-Files) vs. Castiel/Dean Winchester (Supernatural.) In the final results from 51,514 votes, Mulder/Scully won by 53% and Castiel/Dean won by 47%. In early 2023, Tumblr added a polls feature which has led to numerous content, debates, and bracket polls similar to this.
A screenshot from SPN 11x15 where Dean says "No money, no glory" with a headline that says "Supernatural creator Eric Kripke gets 'zero' residuals from Netflix"
A screenshot of Dean rising from his grave in SPN 4x01 with a screenshot of a post from the official CW Supernatural Instagram with a clip from the pilot episode and the caption "And the story continues..." and a comment from a user that says "THE STORY CONTINUES?? WTF ARE YOU TRYING TO TELL US?? I HAVE ANXIETY YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME." For context, no one is sure if the post was supposed to reference new content from Supernatural or not but it has led to speculation.
A screenshot of SPN 8x01, with the onscreen lyric "Another year has passed me by."
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justhereforthemeta · 1 year
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Romantic expectations and the story we didn't see: A magic trick hiding in plain sight
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Here's a hopeful meta for all my fellow celestial brainrot sufferers out there. Cheers! :)
This idea started as a dead end, trying to track the movements of Crowley’s sideburns/tattoo because I thought time travel shenanigans were afoot. I had to abandon that theory when it was pointed out that David was simultaneously filming as the sideburns-having Fourteenth Doctor, and in-universe Crowley can do whatever he wants with his facial hair whenever he feels like it. But hey - null findings are still findings!
On the bright side, pausing the show to make notations in a spreadsheet forced me to slow down and notice other changes I'd overlooked the first time around: acting choices, costuming choices, references to book lore. And possibly a few surreptitious flicks of the wrist, in places where we’re meant to be focused on the magician’s other hand.
@amuseoffyre and @ineffablefood had a great exchange recently about romance and “the significance of misdirection and three-in-one (magic) tricks” throughout the show. I suspect Neil has done something brilliant with the audience’s long-standing expectations (since the 1990s, really) for the love story between Crowley and Aziraphale to develop. And while it is a wonderful story indeed, playing to this expectation lets Neil distract his audience from the blink-and-you'll-miss-them seeds he's planting for the final chapter.
Continued below the cut...
Let’s start at the beginning of Episode 2. First, context: In the previous installment, Crowley stormed out of the bookshop, was whisked away to Hell by Beelzebub where he learns about the Book of Life threat to Aziraphale’s existence, then returned to the bookshop to dance a little apology dance and hide Gabriel with an unintentionally massive joint miracle. In S2E2, we and Shax catch up with Crowley as he's snoozing in the Bentley.
Shax: “You’re in trouble”
A. J. Crowley, cool as a cucumber: “Obviously. Former demon, hated by Heaven, loathed by Hell. How will our hero cope?”
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Interesting! Sarcastic? Yes, absolutely; but that’s also a good 4500 years and an averted apocalypse away from “I’m a demon. I lie,” wouldn’t you say? Someone is sounding a whole lot less depressed and aimless and navel-gazey (do snakes have navels?), and a whole lot more like he’s got a project to focus on, since his "what's the point?" ruminations on the park bench in E1.
And of course we all noticed the costume change right away. Hello, black turtleneck. Feeling cute today, thought I’d cover up my graceful long neck? That sounds unlikely. Let’s put a pin in this one.
There’s also an interesting acting choice going on here. Crowley speaks to Shax in a funny, drawling, too-cool-for-you voice that we haven’t heard in a while. Specifically, not since 1967. If you go back and give the S1E3 scene in the Dirty Donkey a listen, you’ll hear it (and if you know of another instance of it that I've missed, please let me know!). In S2E2, he keeps up this odd voice (if anybody knows what kind of affect this is supposed to be, please do tell!) throughout this dialogue with Shax, except for the brief moment when she first surprises him about the joint miracle having been detected.
1967 was a fun year. Crowley masterminded a heist! And seemed like he was having a ball doing it, right up until his little caper was called off after Aziraphale brought him the thermos of holy water. Crowley spoke to his co-conspirators in that same funny, very 60’s-caper-film voice. He wore a hip 60’s turtleneck. He bought petrol for the only time ever, so he could get those sweet James Bond bullet hole decals for his car (per the book, seen on the Bentley in the show).
Those James Bond bullet hole decals would of course have been part of a promotion for this 1967 release, which you just know our film-enjoying demon went to see in the theater:
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Starring this suave, be-turtlenecked guy:
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And now - begging your forgiveness - a brief rant.
There are a number of posts out there that refer to Crowley’s S2E2 turtleneck as a flirtatious sartorial choice - actually, ‘slutty’ seems to be the favored accusation. There are even a few posts floating around commenting on how sweet it is that Crowley swaps out his slutty, kinky, throw-me-over-your-desk-and-take-me turtleneck for a more dressy and appropriate collared shirt specifically to attend Aziraphale’s Jane Austen ball. 
Now this is all in good fun, and Crowley does indeed look fantastic here, and I do love a good fangirling sesh as much as the next person. However, fandom’s collective tendency to interpret what we are seeing on the screen through the lens of romantic expectation can, at times, give rise to a kind of blinkered enthusiasm that obscures the original text in a haze that is part Mandela Effect, part unrestrained horniness, and part in-group code talking and identity reinforcement.
Respectfully, Crowley’s black turtleneck does not appear at all in S2E5: The Ball. In fact, it never appears again after the end of S2E2.
For Someone’s sake, let’s collectively pull our heads out of the romantic fog/gutter for a moment and focus on what we are actually seeing in the book and on the screen. For Crowley, this is an uncharacteristic within-period costume change. There is a surreptitious flick of the wrist happening here, out in broad daylight, and we are all missing it.
So here’s a thing. Aziraphale appears to have settled comfortably into life on Earth, his neighborhood, his books, using Crowley as an outlet for sharing his good deeds that he would once have reported to Heaven. Meanwhile, at first glance, Crowley appears stuck in a rut. There he slouches on a park bench with Shax in S2E1: a guy who lives in his car, stagnantly clinging to old familiar habits, mulling over the pointlessness of it all.
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Setting aside the bit about living in the Bentley (I’m going to attribute this to well-documented issues between him and Aziraphale, discussed in many other excellent metas, and move on), Crowley has at least two very good, proactive reasons for maintaining his contact with Hell through Shax. First and foremost, it’s a source of information he can use to keep ahead of potential threats to Aziraphale and himself.
But also, I would posit…he kinda likes it.
Recall that book GO was first conceived as a parody, with Aziraphale and Crowley as spy-against-spy (but not really) field operatives in an ages-old cold war between Heaven and Hell. Their entire book dynamic is rooted in the trope of two opposing agents who have been in the field for so long that they now have more in common with each other than with their respective head offices. Their St. James’s Park meetings among other spies and ministers trading secrets are a sendup of what was once a well-known Cold War-era cliché. 
Our contemporary Crowley still likes slick outfits and hellaciously expensive watches and high-performing vintage cars and pens that write underwater while looking like they could break the speed limit. He coaches Shax on how to blend in as a demon on Earth, and he helpfully redirects the wayward contact looking for the Azerbaijani sector chief. He loves improvising and getting away with shenanigans under the institutional radar. And boy golly was he impressed with Jane Austen: master spy, brandy smuggler, and mastermind of the 1810 Clerkenwell Diamond Robbery. 
And if you look at it a certain way, for as long as Crowley has considered himself to be on “[his] own side” - going at least as far back as Job - he could almost think of himself as a sort of double agent. It’s actually a very romantic sort of notion, befitting our hopeless romantic of a (professedly former) demon; but it’s romantic in a very different way than we, the audience, have been primed to watch for.
In other words, in a very “on my own side” kind of way, Crowley really gets a kick out of being a spy. Or at least, dressing up and accessorizing as one, and moonlighting as a good-doing double agent when he can get away with it. And also being a plotting criminal mastermind. Two sides of a coin, really. Just look at Jane Austen.
My point is: No, Crowley did not wait around for Shax to come find him in a turtleneck so that he could go flirt with Aziraphale later. He’ll flirt with Aziraphale no matter what. No, this:
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is actually this:
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Much like the one he wears to the Dirty Donkey in 1967: 
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whilst holy water heist-plotting. Here's a clearer shot with gratuitous Bentley, because I love them:
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…and which he'll wear again, with appropriate camouflage, while infiltrating Heaven in S2E6:
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That is the 1967 planning a HEIST turtleneck for committing ESPIONAGE and STEALING THINGS in. Because turtlenecks are what modern human master spies wear to get their hands dirty - after all, he saw it in a movie once. 
Crowley dons his tactical turtleneck sometime during the first major break in the action (which doesn't happen until after the joint miracle to hide Gabriel) after he learns about the threat the Book of Life poses to Aziraphale. Loverboy started mentally preparing himself to go after that book immediately upon learning that it was in play as a genuine threat. 
Now let’s pick up at the S2E2 Dirty Donkey scene, reading the story from this angle. Of course, Crowley enables Aziraphale’s delusions about Heaven by hiding information from him, and does not disclose the Book of Life threat when they meet again. They go into the pub, Aziraphale shamelessly paws Crowley’s chest like the seductive Bond Girl he is, and Crowley gets to act all smooth and suave and intimidating as he chases off the interloping Mr. Brown (or Mr. Collins for the Pride & Prejudice fans, take your pick).
Ergo, theory: beginning in S2E2, Crowley is already thinking of himself as a Jane Austen/James Bond action hero (“How will our hero cope?”), psyching himself up to rescue Aziraphale by getting his spy game on and stealing the Book of Life.
Now, watch closely...This is where Aziraphale and Crowley brainstorm their plans to solve the problem they both know about: getting Maggie and Nina to fall in love and thereby get Heaven off their backs. Crowley’s vavoom plan is drawn from yet another movie (“Get humans wet and staring into each other’s eyes - vavoom, sorted. I saw it in a Richard Curtis film.”). But Crowley also implicitly shares his solution to the problem he hasn’t told Aziraphale about. And true to form, Crowley’s Jane Austen solution isn’t the same as Aziraphale’s Jane Austen solution. 
Two solutions that fail by the end of Season 2, and a secret third one that might still work...and there's our magic trick of three.
‘“I’m lost. Am I doing a rainstorm?” Yes, babe. And a heist, too - just not until season three. Can I get a wahoo!? 
I won’t spend time on A Companion to Owls during this meta, except to note that in all three minisodes, we get to watch stories that involve Crowley acting as a double agent on “his/their own side” - successfully making Hell and Heaven think he’s fulfilling their will while saving Job’s goats and children; failing to fool Hell when he does a good deed in Edinburgh; and of course, collaborating with Aziraphale whilst evading detection as an infernal turncoat during the Blitz.
(Because this is getting long, I'll also skip over Crowley's interrogation of Jim in this episode - I'll probably come back to that in another meta. But interrogating is a rather spy-ish thing to do.)
When we catch up with Crowley again later, he’s already slipped out of the bookshop, having left Aziraphale to his biblical reverie about Job. He saunters snakily down Whickber Street as usual, but with a very pointed and swift glance over his shoulder (see pic above). This demon is up to something - possibly something we didn’t get to see, something that may have happened offscreen while he stepped out. In any case, knowing there’ve been unfriendly angels in the neighborhood that morning, he’s rightly concerned about being spied on.
From this point until the beginning of episode six, there isn’t a whole lot of opportunity for Crowley to make any next moves. He babysits the bookshop, during which time he manages to wring some crucial information out of Jim; he follows his Crowley’s Angel around like a puppy, and downs a bottle of red like a good old fashioned lovesick boy once that’s been pointed out to him. If any plotting or scheming is underway, this occult being is keeping stumm for now.
This has been a long one, so I’ll wrap up with Crowley’s infiltration of Heaven with Muriel. The turtleneck disguise works (Archer fans, be vindicated!) long enough to gather some information that will be crucial not just to the denouement of S2, but also to Crowley’s journey in S3 (previous post on Crowley's Fall, Saraqael, and memory wiping). And Aziraphale gets to enjoy that view exactly zero times. The point isn’t oh, a turtleneck! How flirty! So cunty! So cute! Y’all. Everything matters. The costume change was a deliberate choice. In-universe, Crowley’s decision to wear his special spy turtleneck for spying in is a signal that he is out doing spy things, even as we watch.
In sum: Beginning in S2E2 and continuing through the end of the season, Aziraphale and Crowley are actively living out the scripts of two parallel, concurrent, and completely different Jane Austen stories. But you and I, dear fellow audience member, we came here for a comedy with a hefty jigger of romance, and that’s what Neil gave us to focus on. And right up until the Final 15, that was the only story we saw.
Meanwhile, Special Agent A. J. Crowley doesn’t have time to mope around at the end of S2E6. He’s kicked down, but he’s not out. He's got a Book of Life to steal, a very serious bone to pick with a certain memory-wiping angel, and his Angel and the world to save. 
“‘Heigh ho,’ said [romantic, optimist, former demon, hero, master spy] Anthony Crowley, and just drove anyway.”
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lordprettyflackotara · 4 months
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hitchhiker || chapter two || the proxies
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tw: mentions of murder, brief descriptions of gore
a/n: i’ve gotten a lot of love for this series and i just wanted to say thank you!! as a tribute of my appreciation i present a question: would you guys prefer this story on another platform ADDITIONAL to tumblr? i’ve gotten a few ask. i’m not familiar with ao3 but id like to learn if yall want it :)<3
<— chapter one
You had Toby absolutely mesmerized.
He swallowed nervously as he sat beside you in the diner’s booth. Brian had specifically requested the booth farthest away from everyone else. He sought out privacy, even when you curiously arched an eyebrow when he informed the waitress of his request.
Toby couldn’t help but admire your figure, your curves begging to be acknowledged in that slimming white dress of yours. The sight borderline made his mouth water. Toby shifted uncomfortably in his seat, refraining from anxiously chewing on the inside of his mouth. This would be the first time in years he would be eating in public. Usually he was never concerned with his appearance. That was until he met you.
Now he was slouched in a booth at a diner, a large bandage tightly secured to the decaying side of his face. You were kind enough to not stare, Toby only having noticed your eyes flickering to it once. You hadn’t question his ghoul gray skin or bandage. You didn’t stare at him like he was a freak. You just carried on the conversation like he was a normal person like Tim and Brian. He glanced over at Tim and Brian, his leg bouncing up and down under the table.
The four of you had been served glasses of water, the waitress apologizing and ushering to a different table. You began to unwrap a straw, before putting it into your glass.
“So, what do you guys do for work?”
The question almost made Brian spit out his drink. Tim elbowed his partner. “We’re private consultants,” He replied casually. You sipped your water, grabbing the lemon off of the rim. “Private consultants for what?” You asked, squeezing the juice into your water. Toby watched Brian and Tim carefully, both of them tongue tied. “K-kind of like detective-es. Just without the license,” Toby answered. He hoped you hadn’t noticed how shaky his hand was as he grabbed his glass. He didn’t bother with a straw, carelessly gulping down the water.
“Detectives? Thats nice. Hired by a private client I assume? One that’s behind the scenes,” You suggest. Toby exchanged looks with Tim, giving him a slight nod to suggest they go along with your explanation. “Yeah victims families sometimes aren’t satisfied with the police’s answer for disappearances or murders. They hire people like us to do some of our own investigating,” Tim replied. He hadn’t touched his water. The waitress returned, a small notebook in hand.
“What will you all have to drink?”
Tim gestured for you to go first.
“I’ll have a coke, thank you.”
You looked over at Toby, whose leg was bouncing under the table at a million miles per hour.
“Dr Pepper i-if you have it.”
The waitress gave a confirming nod, looking over at Brian.
“I’ll just stick with water.”
She nodded, her gaze landing on Tim.
“I’ll just have black coffee, thanks.”
Once she left, you were eager to resume the conversation. “Must be exciting work, traveling all of the time. I assume it’s all paid right? Like traveling fees and food,” You say. Toby couldn’t help but feel nervous around you, the brunette forcing himself to join the conversation. “Y-yeah it’s p-pretty nice,” He replied. He felt his neck begin to twitch, Brian’s eyes shooting daggers at him across the table. “You guys should meet my best friend Nova. She just became the lead detective around here,” You suggested. Tim exchanged glances with Brian. Toby clutched his cup, practically reading their thoughts.
They finally had justification for keeping you around.
The waitress came back, setting the drinks on the table. She clicked her pen as she brought out her notepad from the apron, the sound making Toby’s left arm twitch. “What will you have?” She asked you. You glanced at the menu, clearing your throat. Oddly enough it felt weird having all three of their eyes on you, watching you intently. “I’ll have the barbecue burger with fries, thanks,” You tell her. She took the menu from your hands, looking over at Toby. “I’ll have the same but with two burgers instead of one,” Toby said, giving her a small smile. The waitresses eyebrows raised, but she scribbled it onto her notepad without comment.
Her eyes landed on Brian, who hadn’t glanced at the menu. “I’ll take a veggie burger with no tomato, thank you,” He said simply, handing the waitress the menu. She turned to Tim, who was quick to dismiss her. “Just coffee for me,” He told her. Your eyebrows furrowed as the waitress walked away. You wanted to questions Tim’s denial of food, Toby quick to cut you off. It was far too risky to have you aware of his crippling insomnia. “So what d-do you do for wor-rk?” He asked you. You grinned shyly, hoping the heat that was dashing across your cheeks wasn’t visible. It was.
“It’s a bit silly but I want to be an actress. I’ve always dreamed of being up on the big screen,” You admitted, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. Tim sipped his coffee, listening intently. “For now though I work at Olive Garden. Just until I get my big break,” You finished. Toby stared at you in awe. He thought you deserved to be in every movie ever. Including the x rated ones. “You’ll be in Hollywood in no tim-me,” Toby told you, flashing you a big smile. His words provided you relief, Brian’s judgment written across his face. You could tell he didn’t want to be there. You returned Toby’s smile before turning back to Tim.
You had said something, Toby’s sight able to see your lips moving. But his hearing went dull, the diners lights flickering. He set his cup down on the table, trying to count his breathes. One. Two. Inhale. Exhale. This wasn’t real, right? It couldn’t be real. The Operator wouldn’t sought them out here, in such a public place. Right? His gaze landed past Brian, past the heads of the few other people left in the diner. Clear as day in the window, Toby saw a face. Or better said, a mask. He blinked and his breath became shallow as he took in the observers appearance.
Mangled jet black hair, now grown out past her shoulders. A snow white mask with black eyes stared back at Toby through the window, her eyes ominously hidden. Toby would recognize the faded white walmart jacket from anywhere.
What the fuck was Kate doing here?
Toby’s attention came back to the table as the waitress arrived, setting their food in front of them. He looked back at the window, Kate now gone. “You good Tob?” You asked. The brunette turned to look at you, silently shocked you cared. He nodded, giving you a weak smile. “F-fine just thought I saw something,” He replied. Toby shot Brian and Tim a look, one both of them were oblivious to. Did they not see the flickering lights? Brian was too invested in his food, while Tim’s attention was completely focused on you. Toby quietly picked up his burger, taking a bite. Man, you had good taste.
Toby was aware he was schizophrenic. He knew that when his mind went a little too into overdrive he’d see things that weren’t there. Over the years he had grown accustomed to it, making significant progress from his first year with the Operator. Sometimes he’d see his parents or Lyra. If he was in a bad episode he’d even be able to convince himself he was touching Lyra. Like she was really there. He hadn’t seen Lyra or his parents in years. Nor had he seen Kate in at least a year.
Kate the Chaser was a fellow proxy, who spent most of her missions alone. She was quiet and mysterious, never saying too much. As you continued to talk to Tim and Brian, Toby’s mind began to wander. Why was she here? He didn’t show any other signs of being in an episode. The colors in the diner were the same, no strange voices were whispering in his ears. Toby took another bite of his burger, his mind continuing to rack itself for an answer. Kate only came around for one of two reasons. 1. She was doing a favor for one of the Operators brothers or 2. She was there to check on the status of a mission. If it was option two, the three of them were fucked.
“What do you think Toby?” You asked. Your sweet voice snapped him out of his thoughts. “I’m sorry what?” He asked meekly. You pointed at his burger. “About the burger? It’s my favorite. They always have apple bacon,” You say. You were so peacefully oblivious, Toby’s scrambled mind feeling like it was glitching. “Very good, love b-barbecue,” He answered. He gave you a weak smile, dipping a fry into some ketchup. “So what’s your family like? They live out here as well?” Brian asked. Toby couldn’t help but feel unsettled, like they were being watched. Out of the three of them Toby was the least prone to excessive paranoia, but right now he felt like it was all too real.
“No I moved away from home. Originally I wanted to go to New York but I ended up here along the way. It’s the closest I can afford to the big city. Besides it’s not too far away,” You say, shrugging. Considering they were in Ohio, Toby concluded this to not be true. However you seemed to be trying to play off your own insecurities and Toby was determined to play along. “Where are you guys from?” You asked, sipping your coke. The lights in the diner flickered again. Toby’s eyes narrowed. “Alabama, nothing special,” Tim answered, earning a kick from Brian under the table. You took another bit of your burger, the sound of faint static flooding your eardrums. Your new friends didn’t seem to hear it, the three of them unnerved.
You decided to try to ignore it, a slight pounding sensation ensuing in your temple. You had no idea the other three heard it as well, four hundred times worse. Toby watched Tim’s head begin to pound, his adam’s apple swallowing as he tried to endure the headache. His gaze flickered over to Brian, his head twitching to the left. “Oh shit,” Toby muttered, dropping his fry. He grabbed the nearby steak knife, watching as Masky and Hoodie nonchalantly began to front. You looked over at Toby, who was shaking as he clutched the black handle of the knife. He was ready to defend your life with his own and a shitty steak knife.
“Tob? You alright?” You asked, eyes widening at the sight of the knife. Toby watched Masky and Hoodie carefully, waiting for them to attack. It was getting late, the four of them the only ones left in the diner. It wouldn’t be hard to kill you and the only waitress left. But you were so kind. So pleasant to be around. Plus, you smelled good. Masky frowned at the sight of you. If he could’ve had it his way he would’ve followed you home, disposing your body in a rancid dumpster. But he knew his place, the Operators request of his presence coming first. Masky dug in his pocket, Toby’s gaze darkening. He placed a wad of cash on the table, sliding out of the booth. “We have something we have to take care of. Why don’t you walk her home Toby?” Masky suggested blandly. Hoodie followed suit, hands dug in his jeans as he trailed after Masky. Hoodie’s lips curled into a cocky smirk, shamelessly checking you out. The duo left the diner quickly, leaving you and Toby dumbfounded.
“Are they bipolar or something?” You asked. Toby released the knife, trying to ignore your bewildered expression. A flash of white ran across the window, Kate’s presence confirmed. “S-something like that-t. Let’s get you home,” Toby suggested nervously. He ushered you out of the diner, anxiously looking around. He couldn’t spot Masky or Hoodie anywhere, nor Kate or the Operator. He sighed in relief, the cold night wind brutal. “I live down this way,” You say, pointing to down town. You wanted to question Tim and Brian’s odd behavior, but ultimately decided against it. Toby walked beside you, the orange street lights illuminating the path. He tried to be quiet, trying to uncover what they did wrong in his mind.
The cold didn’t bother him, but his eyes flickered over to you. You were a shivering mess, goosebumps littering your smooth skin. “H-here. Might n-not smell the best,” He said quickly. He slid off his signature hoodie, handing it to you. “But you’ll be cold,” You pointed out. Toby shook his head. “I don’t get cold-d. Here,” He insisted. Hesitantly you accepted Toby’s hoodie, sliding it on. It smelled like dirt, cologne, and a metallic scent you couldn’t place. “Thank you Toby,” You say, giving him a grin. Toby thought back to the dismemberment of the body. He followed the usual routine. Depending on the victim there were two possible routines.
One being what they called mystery. Toby would extract the teeth, slicing fingerprints and toes off of the victim. Next he’d scoop out the eyes, before slicing out the tongue. After that he’d cut off the head. He’d distribute the fingertips, toes, teeth, eyes, and head to Masky and Hoodie. The three would divide them up evenly, before going their own ways for the night to discard of the evidence. Toby had an all too familiar lake he preferred to dispose his in. The alligators there were practically his friends by now.
The other method, one Toby named chop chop. Or chop for short. His axe skills were utilized, each leg and arm, and of course the head, cut apart limb from limb. This method was recommended when the victim had been attacked from the front. The more raw mushy organs on display, the more likely the wolves would get to the body before a human did. As for the body parts, the proxies had been using barrels full of acid. It was a grueling process, but they were able to bury them in the forest without a long drive to discard of them.
For detective Winston, they had opted to use route two. Chop was quicker. Of course they used chop, wanting to see you as quickly as possible. That’s when it finally hit Toby: Hoodie had slashed his throat. His chest cavity and organs were intact. He was a detective in the force for years. He had a chest tattoo. Thats why the Operator sent Kate. The body had been discovered and identified.
“I know this isn’t the best part of town but it’s all I can afford right now,” You say. Toby snapped out of his thoughts, turning his attention back to you. You had taken his silent pondering as judgment. “I’ve slept in trees before, i’m sure y-your apartment is l-lovel-ly,” Toby told you. You subtly began to walk closer to him, purple neon signs illuminating the rest of the pathway. “It’s not normal I know but i’ve always wanted a tattoo from that shop,” You told him, pointing at ‘Ray’s tattoos’. Toby examined the shop, his eyes scanning over the multiple people getting tatted. He made eye contact with what appeared to be a biker, his gaze returning to you.
“H-how about I go w-with you sometime? I d-don’t have one,” He admitted. You gave him a sheepish smile. “I have one but it’s kinda embarrassing,” You confessed. Toby chuckled, following you into your apartment building. “C-can’t be that bad,” Toby replied. He trailed behind you as you entered the elevator, clicking the button to the fourth floor. “Promise you won’t tell Tim and Brian?” You asked. Toby nodded, preparing himself to see whatever exposure of skin you were going to provide him. Instead you leaned close to him, whispering into his ear, “I have a tramp stamp.”
Toby felt a shiver of ecstasy run down his spine, soaking in the sensation of your hot breath. “O-oh wow,” He blushed. You giggled as the elevator doors opened, walking to your apartment. You stood in front of door 401, turning to Toby. “I really do like you guys you know. Despite their social awkwardness, it’s nice seeing some new faces around here,” You say. Toby could hardly get enough of your praise, his imagination now playing with the idea of your tramp stamp. “T-thank you. We like-e you too,” He said. You gave him a small smile. “I don’t think Brian likes me,” You told him honestly. Toby pretended to play dumb. “Pfft, B-Brian’s just a l-loner. He didn’t like m-me either at first,” He replied. Which, was technically true.
You bit your bottom lip, your eyes flickering to your apartment door. You grabbed your keys, unlocking it. You were about to invite Toby in, the invitation on your lips. Just as you opened your mouth, Nova appeared in front of you. You jumped in surprise. “Nova? Holy shit what are you doing here?” You questioned. You had given Nova your key ages ago for emergencies. There she stood in her pajamas, a file in hand. Toby frowned at the sight of Nova. Why was she there? He wanted time alone with you. Why couldn’t he have you to himself for the night? “I’m sorry I know you were on your date but something new just happened in my case!” She said excitedly. Date? The word date made Toby’s heart flutter. His annoyance of Nova’s presence had temporarily subsided. Her chocolate orbs flickered over to Toby.
“Who’s this?”
You awkwardly turned to Toby. “Oh shit sorry, uh, Toby this is Nova, Nova this is Toby,” You say, introducing the two. Nova stuck out her hand, an apple watch secured on her wrist. “So you’re the hitchhiker,” She mused. Toby could sense her protectiveness of you. “And you’re the detective,” He replied, shaking her hand. The two of them purposefully gave the other a tight squeeze before Nova pulled away. “Alrighty then. Well i’d like to discuss this case with you before dawn,” Nova said, gesturing to the file.
“Of course of course,” You say awkwardly. You turned to Toby. “Here let me give you back your hoodie,” You said. Your fingers began to grab at the hem, Toby’s larger hand stopping you. You hadn’t realized bandages covered a majority of his hands until then. “Keep i-it. I’ll come get it from you late-er,” He told you. You could feel heat dash across your cheeks from his touch. You stood on your tippy toes, planting a soft kiss to his cheek.
“Thank you Toby. I’ll see you soon?”
Toby nodded affirmatively, wishing you a goodnight.
He shoved his hands in his jeans as he walked down the hallway, grinning to himself. You’d be seeing him a lot sooner than you thought.
—> next chapter
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helaintoloki · 22 days
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I am just so obsessed with the idea of Five and Reader's domestic life (without all those doomsday shite) 🫠 so please, if you can, I'd love to read something related to that 🙏🏻
a/n: hi anon sorry for the wait ! i just started the fall semester and haven’t had much time to write but i hope you enjoy this little slice of life -esque fic
warning: basically pure fluff
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The dance hall is nearly empty save for the elderly couple rocking back and forth in each other’s arms in front of the stage where the big band plays their last song of the night. Tired busboys and cleanup crew members clear away the tables and sweep up any mess to prepare for the next day of business. Despite the evening coming to a close, you’re in no hurry to leave Five’s arms as he delicately twirls you around the dance floor to one of his favorite songs.
“Ready to call it a night?” He asks with a careful smile after watching your eyes nearly flutter shut for a third time. He knows you well enough to detect when you’ve reached the point of exhaustion, but he also knows you’re not one to ever admit this out of your own volition.
“Tired already, old man?” You counter playfully, but you don’t protest as he begins to lead you off the dance floor and out the doors to your car. Your feet are killing you and you want nothing more than to crawl into bed, and Five is fully aware of your current internal dialogue. He helps you into the car and even slips off your heels for you before taking his place behind the wheel.
“This was nice,” he admits in a soft voice, glancing over at you in the passenger’s seat. Your head is pressed against the cool glass of the window as you watch the city streets pass by, and you let out a gentle hum in response to his comment.
“It’s nice we get to do normal couple things now,” you agree thoughtfully. “No assignments to complete, no world-ending apocalyptic threats to stop, no timelines to fix. Just us getting another chance to relive our twenties again in a world where the moon is still intact.”
“I’m sorry about all that,” Five relents with a tired sigh. If not for him you probably never would have been wrapped up in all that mess in the first place, and he feels partly responsible for the chaotic nature your life had taken on the last few decades.
“Hey,” you call gently, prompting the boy to glance over at your sincere gaze and soft smile, “I wouldn’t change it for the world, you know that. I literally had the chance to, but I decided against it.”
“Don’t remind me,” he scoffs quietly at the memory. The Handler had cornered you once with an enticing deal- a chance to return to your own time in exchange for Five’s whereabouts and his plans to stop the end of the world. She mistakenly underestimated your loyalty to the time traveler, and you had gifted her with a solid right hook in response to her offer. That all felt so long ago to you both now.
The headlights of the car drown your front yard in artificial light as Five finally pulls into the driveway of your humble home. After everything had been set back to normal and the Cleanse had been stopped, you both decided to move out into the suburbs and purchased a lovely little fixer upper in a quiet neighborhood where almost nothing seemed to happen. It was exactly the fresh start you needed, and every time you stepped over the threshold through the front door you felt your heart fill with warmth all over again just like it had the first time Five had carried you inside.
“I think we should get a dog,” you voice aloud for no particular reason as you flip on the lights and shut the door behind you. The house is cozily warm despite your absence, and already you can feel the eagerness rising within you at the thought of crawling into bed.
“A dog?” Five repeats with a raised brow as he hangs his coat on the wall and sets your heels upon the shoe rack next to his own.
“After married people get a house they usually start having kids, or they get a dog,” you explain with a casual wave of your hand as you walk through the hallway and into the kitchen to fix yourself a glass of water. “I think we should get a dog.”
“Not a kid?” Five teases as his fingers playfully poke into your side. You jump at the feeling, and he uses the distraction as an opportunity to steal your glass from you so that he may take a hearty gulp of water before you can protest.
“I don’t think we’re ready for that yet. At least, I’m not. I can hardly handle babysitting Grace and the twins as it is.”
“To be fair, they take after their parents,” Five reminds you with a sarcastic chuckle before handing you your freshly refilled glass of water. “I think our kids would stand a better chance.”
“A Hargreeves child with a y/l/n as their mother?” You retort with a pointed look and uneasy smile. “Not likely. I’d like to remain chaos free for at least another few years before we get to that.”
“I can’t argue with that,” he relents with a sigh before wrapping his arms around you from behind and resting his chin on your shoulder. “We’ve had enough chaos to last us a lifetime. The kids can wait.”
“So we’re getting a dog?”
“We’ll get a dog,” Five chuckles with a careful nod as he presses his lips to your cheek.
“Can we name him Mr. Pennycrumb?”
“Mr. Pennycrumb?” Your husband retorts skeptically, pulling away to analyze your facial features in search of any falsehood or mirth. “Where’d you come up with that?”
“I read it in a comic book once,” you offer with a simple shrug as if it’s the most obvious explanation in the world. Despite how much time he’s spent with you, you still always find a way to surprise him when he least expects it. It’s one of the many things he loves about you, and it’s why your relationship has remained so strong after all this time. It’s hard to reach a stalemate when you’re always keeping him on his toes.
“Of course, what was I thinking,” Five hums thoughtfully as he pulls away from your figure and sets your now empty cup in the sink. “Mr. Pennycrumb it is.”
He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and turns to leave for the bedroom, but your melodious call of his name has him stopping dead in his tracks. You move forward to loosen his tie for him, an adoring smile on your face as you peer up at him through your lashes and quietly voice, “I love you.”
He grins, his gaze soft with a look that is only reserved for you as he presses his lips to your forehead and gifts you a tender hearted kiss. What he ever did to be lucky enough to have someone like you, he’ll never know, but what he does know is that he’ll gladly spend the rest of his time on this earth making you happy with the life you’ve built together.
“I love you too,” he utters reverently before pulling you into his arms once more for another kiss.
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hyypnotix-writes · 1 year
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Part 3
~ howdy! it's here ..I don't fully know how I feel about it, I might keep editing it at another point, but I've taken the piss with keeping you waiting for so long, I just want you to have something ~
~ it's long - I thought the other two were bad enough but this is longer than both of them combined. it's 26k words so I'm very sorry, and I do understand if that's too much for any of you ~
~ I don't know how to break it up to make it easier, or more fun, for you to read. I hope it doesn't put all of you off, but unless you're an incredibly quick reader ..you will probably have to read this one when you genuinely have nothing else to do ~
~ I'm not sure how well this chapter will go down, this could well be the end of our little journey together ~
~ I've had a lot of fun writing for all of you if it is, despite me stressing myself out with it! you've all been very kind and lovely, and however you've enjoyed any part of my writing, I've really appreciated every interaction ~
~ whether you liked, reblogged, or sent me a little message - every single one of you has made me smile, so I really hope this doesn't disappoint any of you too much! ~
~ good luck! good bye xx ~
Part 1 Part 2
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Rain is absolutely not what you signed up for when you agreed to come to Barcelona with your sister. Travelling all the way to sunny Spain, and bringing the bloody British weather with you as you go? What a horrible little joke.  
You’re not going to be the sun-kissed envy of your friends if it stays like this, you’ll be going back to London even paler than you were when you left it.  
The rainfall dribbles down the outside of the window, opposite where you rest your forehead, and a mournful sigh escapes your lips as you look out at the abysmal sight of the city streets down below. You draw a smiley face with your finger, where your breath fogged up the glass, and you try to mirror the expression on your own face as you extract yourself from the pane and flop back down onto the bed with a very dramatic groan.  
It’s already been one of the longest mornings of your life, and it’s only just turned 10:00.  
Sleep eluded you once again last night. Every hour, on the hour, you watched the clock tick over. Seconds suspending themselves in the air, minutes moving like molasses, as you counted infinite sheep in your head. Time flies when you’re having fun, as they say, but boy does it drag its heels when you’re praying for it to soar.  
Despite your fun little belief that you might’ve finally been sleeping soundly last night, it didn’t actually come to fruition. It turns out that it’s quite difficult for someone to fall asleep after finding out that the woman they’re falling for has secretly been a famous sporting icon the whole time that they’ve known her. Who’d have thought? 
It’s still a little hard for you to wrap your head around. The fact that she’s a bit famous, and her celebrity status stems from football of all things. Even with detective skills as exceptional as yours, that possibility never crossed your mind.  
Exhaustion is starting to plague your body after so many restless nights, and the antisocial behaviour you’re demonstrating because of it, isn’t largely appreciated by your sister. Abandoning Em to go and have breakfast on your own, before she had chance to wake up and join you, wasn’t a deliberate act of cruelty from you, you genuinely thought you were doing her a favour by letting her have a lie in.  
You are on holiday together, though, so she didn’t fully enjoy waking up alone in your shared hotel room. She made that much abundantly clear to you, with the countless strongly worded text messages that you received as you awkwardly traipsed back upstairs to apologise to her.  
A silent and forceful barging into your shoulder was all that greeted you, as you returned to the room and she made her exit from it.  
It’s unfortunate. She’s in a pissy mood, the weather’s in a pissy state, and you have to go to a pissing football match later on this evening. What a cruel world it is that you’re living in.  
It’s very unnatural that your one saving grace of the day is the pissing football match that you have to attend. That being one of the highlights of your holiday, really won’t make much sense at all to any of your friends when you tell them about it.  
You stare longingly at your phone for a while, tapping your fingers over your torso as you wait for Em’s return from breakfast. You let out a soft sigh as you gaze up at the ceiling, before gently closing your eyes, in the futile hopes of having a quick nap. The darkness behind your eyelids allows your mind to wander all too freely. Which it very quickly does, to more thoughts of Alexia. The same way that it has done, since the very first moment that she so casually waltzed into your life.  
This morning, however, it’s not thoughts of confusion, that cloud your brain. Sexuality concerns and hopeless pining are far from the forefront of your mind. It’s excitement that envelops you, anticipation. The fact that you’ve found your impossible-to-find woman, and that she’s no longer impossible for you to find at all. She may very well be one of the easiest people to locate, in all of Barcelona, as it happens. Knowing that you get to see her, at least one more time again this evening, even if it’s only from a distance, is a promise that has an involuntary smile tugging at the corners of your lips, and your heart doing cartwheels inside of your chest.  
There’s the distinct feeling of potential that hangs in the air for tonight. You can’t pretend that you’re not feeling hopeful about seeing her a little bit more up-close-and-personal than just from your seat in the stands. You’d quite like to be able to congratulate her, if the scoreline goes in her favour.  
You pull the neck of Alexia’s sweatshirt up over your face, in an attempt to fully bring the possibilities to life in the playground of your imagination, and you let out another sigh as you rest your hand over your stomach.  
It really doesn’t smell enough like her anymore, but it still your favourite item of clothing, as it is still very much hers. It’s the most effective key for unlocking your memories with her, and you breathe it in deeply, as you let your thoughts of her consume you.  
You really are feeling desperately needy, you’ve already been in this position once this morning.  
It’s not a hunger that’s ever infiltrated your body and mind quite so fervidly. You’re not a particularly clingy person, you’re not usually so obsessive, or lustful. You’re certainly hot-blooded, and you know how to enjoy yourself, but there’s never normally this type of craving in you for another person.  
Having your mind be so fanatical about someone else really isn’t something that’s ever overcome you quite so powerfully. It’s a rare sort of desire in you, that only she’s been able to spark, and it’s proving very difficult to satiate it.  
Your hand wanders slightly, as she takes over your head, the tips of your fingers trailing the waistband of your shorts, before the excessively loud opening and closing of the hotel room door, abruptly halts you from getting too invested in your fantasies.  
You turn your attention to your sister, removing your fingers with an unfortunate twang, as the elastic hits back down your skin, and you slowly free your face as she obliviously trudges across the room.  
You offer up an apologetic smile for abandoning her earlier, as she places her coffee on the table, and, with a piece of toast dangling from her mouth, she smiles back at you, the power of a full stomach seemingly diluting her previous feelings of anger.  
Her smile quickly contorts into a mischievous little grin, and there’s a glint in her eye, as she pounces on the bed.  
“Are you good?” You chuckle, as she rummages next to you, but she doesn’t gift you with any verbal reply. It’s your phone that she’s interested in, you realise, and you hold out your hand, for her to return it to you. “Behave.” You warn her, but she only giggles at the unlocked screen and shakes her head at you.  
“Do you have a new girl crush?” She mocks, goading you as she waves the device in front of your face. “Big into Alexia Putellas, are we?” 
“I was just ..familiarising myself.” You tell her, shuffling yourself a little, as a soft pink hue rushes to your cheeks.  
“Is that what you’re calling it?” She scoffs. “You know, I also tend to search for someone’s back tattoos when I’m trying to memorise their face!” 
“I was— I ..can I have my phone back, please?” You sigh, giving up on any attempt at trying to defend yourself.  
You don’t need to defend yourself to her. You like Alexia’s tattoos, and simply wanting to see them again, is merely an appreciation of art. That’s entirely innocent enough. It wasn’t a perverse search; it didn’t come from a sinful place.  
The fact that it immediately triggered flashbacks to you tracing over all of them with your lips, really wasn’t exactly your fault. It was unintentional, an almost reflex response from you.  
Letting yourself get mildly carried away with remembering how Alexia had kissed along your own body and how her lips had this wonderfully curious tendency of just always roaming down. The little knot that tied itself in your stomach, and your breath hitching as you relived the eye contact that she made with you before she had your back arching under her.  
That’s all a little less innocent, maybe, but it still wasn’t deliberate. It couldn’t be helped; it was just an automatic reimagining of events.  
You’re allowed to do that, they’re your memories. It’s entirely permissible for you to take a little journey through them every once in a while. It’s been over a month for you, and you have some overdue frustrations. That’s not a crime, you’re not a pervy creep.  
“You have a real thing for Spanish women at the minute, huh?” Em recognises, pulling you from your dirty thoughts again as she drops your phone down onto your stomach and takes another bite of her breakfast.  
“Mhmm. I quite like her tattoos.” You tell her casually, and she smiles back at you with a raised eyebrow.  
“Whenever you’re ready for me to do your next one, let me know!” 
“Mm.” You mumble, as you feel the ink on your rib cage begin to sear under her stare.  
You really do like tattoos, but there’s a reason that you only have the one on you. Your distinct lack of body art probably doesn’t seem like the greatest advertisement for your sister’s abilities, but it’s your own indecisiveness, and aversion to needles, that’s stopped you from getting too many, not her deficiency of talent. Maybe you’re a little bit squeamish, but it really did hurt.  
“You’re a big baby.” She laughs at you as you rub at the side of your body, trying to relieve the faint burning of your skin, and she claps the remnants of toast crumbs from her hands onto the floor, as she lays next to you. “What do you fancy doing today?” She asks you. “I’m sorry about the shit weather, that’s kinda fucked with your tanning plans.” 
“It’s not really your fault, but I was going to ask for your help, actually. If you’re feeling a little guilty?” 
“Oh?” She turns her head, furrowing her brow at you, her interest piqued, and you let out a sigh as you swallow your pride.  
“I was hoping, maybe you’d help me learn some football things.” 
“Football things?” She scoffs, but you don’t let her mockery deter you, as you nod at her decidedly.  
“Mhmm.” 
The back of Em’s hand very quickly finds itself pressed against your forehead with a quiet little smack, and you scrunch up your face in confusion as she frowns down at you.  
“What on earth are you doing?” 
“Are you feeling okay?” 
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, yes!” You sigh, pushing her arm away from you to stop her from checking your temperature. “I’d just like to know some things. Stop me from going into the match so blind.” 
She narrows her eyes, considering you for a moment. “What do you want to know?” She asks, and you wince at the freedom she’s granted you.  
“Just like ..players’ names, probably? I think that’d be helpful. Maybe some basic rules.” You shrug.  
She continues frowning at you, and you buckle a little under the intensity of her stare.  
“What?” 
“You’ve never cared before..” she reminds you, the suspicion in her eyes only increasing, as you release a small huff through your nose.  
“That’s not really true..” You try to start arguing, but it’s a completely pointless activity, you’re both far too aware that you’re completely lying.
Football has existed for your entire life, and you’ve been interested in it, a grand total, of zero times, before now. You find out that it’s Alexia’s favourite thing to do, and you suddenly want to know everything you can about it. It's entirely tragic of you, and it's too convoluted of a confession to share with your sister right now. She was useless enough when you admitted to a single kiss with another woman, trying to explain all of this mayhem would absolutely break her little brain.
“I’ve definitely cheered with you a couple of times!” You offer and she shakes her head, laughing loudly at you.  
“No no no!” She states. “Quietly saying ‘woo team’ when I tell you someone’s scored, is not cheering with me! I told you Rachel Daly scored once, and you still threw your fist in the air!” 
“What’s wrong with that?” 
“She plays for Aston Villa!” She points out, smacking your shoulder, and you let out another tiny huff. “I could tell you that Emma Hayes had scored, and you wouldn’t question it.” 
“Why would that be weird, is she the goalkeeper?” 
“For fuck’s sake!” She sighs, scraping her hands down over her face. “She’s the manager.” 
Yikes. You really are an idiot.   
“Well.. okay..” you wince, “and that’s why I need your help.”  
“Why does it matter?” She asks. “This’ll be the only match you ever watch.” 
“Maybe, but I quite like the woman who gave me that shirt.” You admit, gazing over at it as you play with the hem of the sweatshirt you’re wearing. “I don’t want to let her down by knowing nothing.” 
“Will she be there today?” 
“Mhmm.” 
Em contemplates for a moment, and you know that look in her eyes, she’s about to cave in. You sit up on the bed, readying yourself to deliver the final blow to her composure.  
“Please?” You say, pouting with a perfectly rehearsed, quivering bottom lip. 
“Nooo! Not the puppy dog eyes.” She groans, averting her gaze from you to try and stay strong. You don’t back down, and she lets out a pathetic cry of defeat when she catches your expression again.  
“There’s not much else for us to do until this rain stops.” You point out innocently.  
“That’s not true! There’s that aquarium you wanted to go to?” 
It’s a valid point from her, but rather incredibly, it’s no longer as appealing an option to you. You want to embrace football today. It’s important to Alexia, and she’s becoming important to you. As such, football ..is also important ..to ..well, no. Let’s not push it. She isn’t your girlfriend; you don’t need to be football’s number one fan just yet. Football will be tolerated by you, until further notice.  
You plead to your sister again, adding a small sniffle after your words for extra impact, and her resolve is positively crumbling in front of you.  
“You’re really serious, you want to learn about football?” 
“Mhmm!” You grin, excitedly crossing your legs, to fully show that you mean business. “Please!” 
“Fine.” She chuckles, rolling her eyes at your childish little excitement.  
“Thank you!” You grab her head to place a kiss to the top of it, and she quickly pushes you off of her. “I’d just like to know enough, though.” You clarify, before she starts getting too carried away with her lesson planning. “Just enough to stop me from looking like a fool.” 
“Well, steady on.” She snorts, with a roll of her eyes as she reaches for her sketch pad from the nightstand. “We’ve only got a day!” 
There’s a lot of information for you to learn it turns out, and you really hope Alexia’s worth all of this relentless studying you’ve subjected yourself to.  
It isn’t just her teammates that you end up memorising. Em also makes sure to teach you some footballing fundamentals, what ‘being offside’ really means, how the Champions League works, and she takes a great twisted pleasure in letting you know that tonight’s game of all games, could go to extra time and penalties, if no side is able to score more sodding goals than the other.  
You’re definitely being tested. 90 minutes is all that you signed up for when you agreed to watch the football, not a possible 120 with the looming threat of a penalty shootout attached to it. It’s entirely far too much. Why the hell is this Alexia’s favourite thing to do? Why are you still so into her? This is unbearable.  
It proves a little hard for you to keep concentrating on all of the facts that your sister keeps throwing at you, but she very quickly realises, that letting you watch some of Alexia’s highlights at irregular intervals, keeps you from getting too bored with everything else.
  
It quite amusing to you, to see Alexia wearing the captain’s armband, if you can believe. This nightclub nuisance, taking on a leadership role? That doesn’t seem right at all.  
Club captain, best on the team, best in the world? Turns out, it’s you that has the impeccable taste in women.  
She’s very sexy in her little football kit and watching her kick a ball around is surprisingly entertaining. She’s also very good, even you can see that, and the fact that she’ll occasionally lift her shirt when she’s a little frustrated with herself? Well, replaying that in slow motion is entirely fine and acceptable.  
There’s no real heterosexual explanation for your enjoyment of it, but you can pretend it’s merely an appreciation of fitness for you to keep pausing all of the videos and zooming in on her body.  
It’s not something that you ask to learn about, but Em can’t help mentioning all of Alexia’s achievements to you. It’s very fun to find out about everything, and there’s a genuine sense of pride in you for all of her plentiful accolades.  
It does feel a little misplaced, perhaps. You probably still don’t know her well enough to be just as proud of her as you are, you’ve certainly not known her long enough to be quite so pleased for her.  
It’s also slightly daunting, maybe, realising how decorated she is. Finding out about her FIFA’s best awards, the World Cup, her consecutive Ballon d’Ors.  
This is a very highly celebrated woman that you’ve been mingling with.   
She’s widely regarded as the greatest women’s player, of all time. It’s not just your sister that’s been saying it, Alexia’s been awarded for it, on the television, in front of the whole world. There’s a mural of her in Barcelona, a viewpoint that’s been named after her, and it turns out, that there’s a fairly huge amount of people that really enjoy calling her La bloody Reina. She’s revered by these people, almost worshipped.  
You’re not letting it get to you too much. Yes, she’s widely adored, she’s won pretty much every single award it’s possible for her to achieve, and she’s only just turned 30. She’s famous and well-loved and you’re just a little nobody from London, but you’re not letting that get to you too much.   
That probably wouldn’t be very wise. That would bring questions into your head, and make you start doubting yourself. That’s not a fun thing for you to do. Why would you do that?   
Don’t do that, you’ll start spiralling. It doesn’t take much to get you overthinking. You spent the past month questioning your sexuality because of one single night with another woman. Don’t let yourself worry about it, that won’t end very well for you. Don’t let her success in her career start clouding who she is to you. She’s still just the confusing lime woman, at the end of the day.   
Don’t start thinking of her as Barcelona’s sweetheart, Alexia Putellas. That’s putting her on a pedestal that you’ll never be able to reach her on up there. That’s very careless of you, to leave her up there on it without you sitting next to her, don’t do that. She’s just a woman. A very beautiful and successful woman. That’s fine, there’s lots of them about. Calm down.  
The rain finally relents a few hours before the big match, and while it doesn’t really grant you a huge amount of time to do anything too adventurous, it is a relief to realise that you won’t be getting completely drenched as you watch Alexia play.  
Em makes a rather hasty escape to the beach, as soon as the sun makes its long-awaited appearance. She hasn’t enjoyed your little study session quite as much as you have. You really just can’t win with this woman. She’s grumpy when you hate football, she’s grumpy when you’re a fan of it. She really just loves being grumpy with everything.  
Your constant refusal to be taught anything about the Chelsea players probably didn’t help you to keep her happy, though. Your insistence that Barcelona is the far superior team, didn’t go down very well with her either. Your new ‘girl crush’ on Alexia Putellas was something she began to find really irritating. You were almost actively trying to wind her up, actually. Maybe you did deserve her abandonment, looking back. You were lucky the rain kept her about for as long as it did.  
She didn’t ask if you wanted to join her at the beach, but you’d have decided to stay where you are anyway. Making sure you really have learnt enough for tonight, is your number one priority at the moment. Quizzing yourself and rewatching a few more compilation videos, is far more important to you than the city around you. The tan you actually came out to Spain for really is taking a hit today, but you can enjoy Barcelona a bit more tomorrow.  
You’re having a small dilemma in the hotel bathroom, as you’re getting yourself ready for the game. It’s an escalating concern for you, and one that your sister is growing increasingly frustrated with you for. You’re going to be late to the match if you don’t start getting a move on.       
Em barges into the bathroom, startling you as you study yourself in the mirror, and you narrow your eyes at her reflection as she stands in the doorway, staring at you.      
“What’s taking you so long?” She asks, with a very clear tone of exasperation.       
“I’m debating.” You tell her thoughtfully, ignoring her choice of intonation completely, by offering her an innocent little smile, as she lets out a very long and loud groan behind you.       
“Of course, you are.” She mutters, and she leans against the doorframe, preparing herself for you to begin your impending little spiel.       
“Right. So, I want to have the whole shirt on display.” You begin, gesturing down the front of your body and tapping your fingers to the lettering across your back.  
“Of course, you do.”      
“Right. So, I’m thinking, hair up,” you explain, demonstrating your vision as you carefully scrape your hair up into a ponytail, before narrowing your eyes at your sister again, to see if she can also see the problem with your plan, “buuut..”     
“Is that a love bite?!” She exclaims, rushing towards you and tugging at your shirt collar to examine the light bruising on your neck.       
“Ex-actly!” You sigh in defeat, letting your hair cascade back down as you grab your makeup bag again, to have another go at concealing the little gift that Alexia left on you yesterday. “I knew I hadn’t done a good enough job with it.”      
“How did you get a love bite?!” She asks, still clearly shocked by your rather tame, levels of promiscuity, as she pushes you away from her in disgust.   
“The usual way.”       
“A man sucked on your neck?”      
“Is that how you usually get your love bites?”       
She pulls an immature face at you and flips you off in the mirror. “I’m 24!” She says, indignant. “I haven’t had a love bite in years!”      
“Well, that’s very sad and tragic of you.” You tell her with a sympathetic pout. “I can only apologise that you’re so prudish and boring, I hope you’re able to recover from that soon!”      
“You’re in a very annoying mood.” She recognises with a sigh, frowning at your reflection as you carry on with your camouflage attempt. “We’ve only been here a day! I thought I was supposed to be the slutty sibling!”      
“You are the slutty sibling.” You remind her with a chuckle. “You were in a relationship just last week, and I’ve already had to make breakfast for three different girls since you broke up!”      
She smiles at you, very proudly, because she’s very very gross, and has absolutely no shame in it.       
“It’s no wonder you looked so happy last night, then.” She says, carefully inspecting your neck for you. “That’s covered it, you’re fine.”      
“Mm. Thank you very kindly!” You tell her, giving her a great big kiss on the cheek for her assistance, that she very quickly rubs back off again.       
“Be less annoying!” She begs.       
“I will not be making any promises!” You warn her, smiling widely as you tie your hair up and give yourself another once over. “How are we looking?” You ask, giving her a quick twirl.       
“Traitorous.” She grumbles.  
“Perfect!” You squeal, excitedly grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the hotel room with you.  
Your enthusiasm doesn’t die out at all, as you clamber into the taxi with your sister, and, as luck would have it, your driver is an even bigger culer than you are. You’re able to have a pretty in-depth conversation with him, what with all of the new knowledge that you’ve so recently acquired, and Em’s just ecstatic for the pair of you.
It isn’t a long drive from the hotel to the stadium, but you do clearly make quite the impression on the driver, as you end up having to reject, with as much politeness as possible, his invitation of a date for after the game.  
You’re really hoping to have other plans tonight, with some much-preferred female company.      
“He’s not ugly.” Em informs you quietly as you get out of the car, and she certainly isn’t wrong.  
‘Not ugly’ is just about as big a compliment as Em will ever give, regarding a man. So, you can rest assured that he is actually a very good-looking gentleman.  She narrows her eyes at you suspiciously as you close the door to the vehicle, and you furrow your brow back at her.  
“What?”     
“You can agree to go out with him tonight, you don’t need to look after me.”      
You shake your head at her, with a mild grimace, muttering out an ‘mm’, as your only offering of an explanation for your lack of interest in him. “No doubt you’ll be going home with someone else after the match?” You check, trying to switch the focus back to her.  
“Naturally.” She winks. “It’s been an unsuccessful holiday otherwise!”     
There's still an unfortunate level of determination in your sister to get you a date for tonight, and you have to really insist, that you simply don’t want the driver’s number. She eventually reluctantly agrees to let him take off, giving him an apologetic nod as he rolls up the window, and you give her an uncomfortable smile as she turns her attention back to you.  
“I really think you should be getting back on the horse.” She encourages, still eyeing you with suspicion as you start the short walk to the stadium. “You can’t waste your life pining after Jamie forever.”      
“I’m really not doing that.” You tell her with a sigh. “I just didn’t want to go out on a date with him.”      
“Do you already have plans with hickey-man?” She giggles.  
“Please don’t call them that,” you chuckle, “and no ..not technically.”      
“But that’s who you’re hoping to find again?”      
“Mhmm.” You mumble, trying to stifle the smile that’s pulling at your lips.  
“Is he nice?”      
“Mhmm.”      
“Is he attractive?”      
“Mhmm.”      
“Do you like him?” She asks, wiggling her eyebrows at you.      
“..Mhmm.” You reply again, and your slightly nervous smile fully takes over your face.  
“Oh ..you really like him. After just one love bite?” She questions, narrowing her eyes at you again. “You don’t usually fall so quickly.” She tells you, and you can only shrug at the suggestive tone to her voice.      
“I don’t really know what you want me to say to that?”      
“I just ..want you to be careful.” She explains. “I don’t want you getting hurt again.”      
“You were just trying to bag me a date with him?”      
“Yeah, but as a one-night thing.” She clarifies. “Falling in love with a random Spanish man isn’t the best way of getting over your ex.”      
“I’m not in love with them, and I’m not ..really still trying to get over Jamie.”      
“Hm. Good. He was a prat.” She reminds you with a rather disgusted looking frown at the memory of him.    
“Thanks, Em.”   
“Ugly cheating bast—”     
“Okay, Em. Enough.”     
“But he was an ugly cheating bas—“ 
“Enough!” 
“Sorry. He was a horrible dickhead, though.” 
“I know.” You sigh. “I get it, thanks.” 
“He still gets to you?” She realises, noticing that your hands have balled themselves into tight fists, and your stomach turns slightly as you shrug your shoulders at her.  
“A little.” You admit, as a less exciting reimagining of events begins to torment your brain. “I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with him, only to find out he’d been sleeping around for two years.” 
“Two years?” She asks, eyes going wide, and you kick yourself for saying too much.  
“I thought I already told you that.” 
“No ..you told me he’d been with a few women. Two fucking years?” 
“Please don’t do the maths, you’ll hate him even more.” 
You attempt to walk away, already having had enough of the conversation, but you don’t get very far.  
“You are joking.” She says, grabbing your arm to stop your escape attempt. “He cheated on you, because Mum died?”      
“Not because Mum died, you idiot. Even he wouldn’t be that foul.”     
“But it’s linked?”     
“Enough, please.”   
“No. What the fuck, Y/N?”      
“That’s enough, okay. I just want to enjoy the match. We can talk about it later.”     
“We can talk about it now! I have the tickets,” she reminds you, with a very clear anger brewing in her, “you’re not getting in there without me! Why the fuck would he cheat on you aft—”     
“Because I didn’t really fancy having sex with him straight after.” You interrupt, in a hushed tone, trying to stop her from causing a scene. “I didn’t fancy having it for a while, he clearly had ..needs.”     
“Don’t justify it.”    
“I’m not ..but ..I understand why he did it. I practically pushed him into the arms of other women.”     
“That’s disgusting, Y/N. You can’t really be blaming yourself for it?”     
“Well ..I don’t know..” You mumble.   
“He cheated on you for two years, because you didn’t want to sleep with him for a bit, and you think that’s okay?”  
“That’s not what I said. I just ..get it.”   
You turn away from her again, to carry on with the walk and she hurries after to you to keep in step, not really content in letting this godforsaken conversation die out just yet.  
“That’s really the excuse he used?” She asks.   
“That’s why it started, apparently. There was obviously ..something else, for him to want to carry on doing it.” You admit, fidgeting with your fingers uncomfortably as you start thinking. “Maybe I was ..missing something that he liked or ..not doing something he wanted me to. I—” you let out a sigh, shaking your head, “..it really doesn’t matter, okay? Please, that’s enough. I honestly haven’t been thinking about him, I don’t want to start again now.”     
“I’m sorry.” She tells you, with a clear look of remorse, and you give her a light nod with a tight-lipped smile in an attempt to ease her guilt.  
You carry on your walk for only a few paces before realising Em is no longer travelling with you, and you turn back to find her staring at her feet. “What are you doing?” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose between your fingers and thumb.  
She taps her toes to the ground a few times, before lifting her head and approaching you with a real sense of purpose. “Here,” she says, handing you a small piece of paper, “in case you can’t find hickey-man.” She tells you, and you do let yourself chuckle a little at Alexia’s unfortunate new nickname as you unfurl the note.     
“You got his number for me? I really don’t need this.” You sigh. You hold the paper out to return to her, but she pushes it back to you.   
“I think you do.” She tells you earnestly. “I don’t think it’s good for you to keep getting hung up on people. First Italian-man, now hickey-man. You were even working yourself up about one kiss with that Spanish woman.” She rolls her eyes at you, before giving you a sincere look of concern. “I know you fall hard, but you don’t usually fall fast. It's weird, and it’s not like you.” She explains, placing her hands on your arms, trying to get you to listen to her better. “I think you should have a proper meaningless night with someone.” She suggests with a shrug “He’s not ugly, and you’re not interested. That’s perfect one-night stand material! You're welcome!”     
“Fine ..thanks.” You mutter, giving her a little nod in defeat as you stare at the number in your hand.  
A meaningless night with a stranger really isn’t what you’re after, but you’re not about to fight her on it now. It’s not an ideal conversation to have just had, really. Your sister isn’t exactly calculated enough to have done it deliberately, she’s not trying to upset you because your footballing-happiness was winding her up too much.  
It’s frustrating from her, but she’s genuinely concerned about you, and maybe she has a reason to be. Maybe you have been ignoring some things about yourself, refusing to confront a few little issues that are bubbling under the surface.  
The ending of your relationship isn’t super ancient history, and you were with him for an unfortunately excessive amount of time. Meaningless hookups were exactly what you were preparing yourself for before Alexia ended up being your first one and ruining the rest of your plans.  
You do know that you’re not letting yourself get hung up over three separate people, though. Italian-man, hickey-man and Spanish-woman are all one person, and letting yourself get so hung up on Alexia as quickly as you are, is fine. Probably. That’s not really a cause for concern.  
Right? 
Of course, you’ve still spent less than 24 hours with her, there’s probably still lots of things you don’t know about each other. You have shared some pretty intimate details about yourselves together already, though, and she doesn’t feel like a rebound, as such. That would be grotesquely underselling the connection between you both.  
She is a woman, which is still new to you, and you really don’t usually fall so quickly for people. It took that bellend over six months to finally wear you down for a date. All Alexia needed to do was hold out a lime for you, to get herself wedged inside of your head.  
Don’t let yourself think about it too hard, you’ll do yourself a mischief. You’re just here to watch some football. You’re here to watch the girl you like, play a bit of football.  
Let’s not overthink, it isn’t good for you. It will only lead to questions and concerns, and that’s not what you need right now. Let’s have fun! 
The atmosphere around the stadium is quite the riot, and it’s very effective in distracting you. There’s flares being let off, the sound of trumpets and drums, there’s colourful smoke everywhere, the most enormous flags you’ve ever seen in your life. It’s like a little carnival, and it’s invigorating, letting yourself get swept up in the excitement of it all.  
You receive a tremendous amount of friendly looks, solely because of the badge over your heart and the name proudly on display on your back and noticing that your sister isn’t shown the same courtesy for wearing her Chelsea shirt, really only adds to your enjoyment of the occasion.  
Em drags you through the large flock of fans, trying to make sure that you don’t get separated from each other on your way into the stadium, and you keep offering up apologies on her behalf, as she carelessly mows people down for you. She is quite the woman on a mission.   
You opt to keep your head down, a little embarrassed by your sister’s rudeness, but even as you make an effort to avoid making eye contact with all of the disgruntled supporters that she keeps barging through, there is one thing that you do struggle to avoid seeing, with some of the Barcelona fans.    
An overwhelmingly impressive amount of them, also have ‘ALEXIA’ on their shirts.    
This doesn’t come as a complete shock to you. She is the best player on the team, after all. There is something about seeing her name plastered over quite so many strangers’ backs, however, that has sent your heart racing.    
This turnout of people is undoubtedly nothing compared to the millions of followers that you found out she has on Instagram yesterday, but it’s a very different feeling, seeing her fame condensed into a little figure on social media, than it is, to actually seeing so many of them in person. It’s much harder for you to ignore the countless amount of admirers that she has, when you keep physically bumping into all of them.   
“Are you good?” Em asks, as you find yourself frozen in the crowd, staring at the back of another person’s shirt.   
“Hm? Yeah, sorry.” You mutter, giving your head a shake, before letting yourself get dragged along again. “She’s very ..popular.”    
“Putellas?” She checks, and you can only nod back at her, still a little dumbfounded by it all. “Well, yeah. Obviously!” She snickers. “Come on!”   
Maybe it’s pride that you’re feeling. Knowing you’ve been spending a bit of time with someone so well-liked. That’s very nice for you, that’s entirely enjoyable and fun. It doesn’t need to be anything other than that. What good would that do for you?  
Perhaps there's a slight nervous tension in your stomach, at seeing her name absolutely everywhere. That’s probably understandable and fine. You knew she was famous, but that’s still a little confounding to actually play witness to. No one’s going to hold that against you, it’s okay to be a little overwhelmed by it all.   
It’s a new reality for you. It makes sense that that would be accompanied with a new feeling too. Anxiety isn’t something that’s really presented itself to you when thinking of Alexia before now. Of course it isn't, why would it have been?   
Picturing little scenarios with her in your mind was fun, it was silly. It didn’t really mean anything when you were never going to find her again. You didn’t need to go putting doubts about yourself in imaginary-Alexia’s head, that wouldn’t keep things very fun and silly at all.   
There are a few doubts about yourself in your own head now, perhaps. Seeing as you have found her again, you’re falling for her, and she’s clearly not the little nobody that you thought you’d entangled yourself with, but that’s probably fine. It’ll be a temporary thing. Let’s not worry about it right this second. Let’s just enjoy the game instead!  
It really isn’t wise for you to start stewing on things. You really will start spiralling.   
How could you not?   
If you start letting yourself think too hard about all the things that you were lacking, and what you simply couldn’t offer to keep a pathetic pig of a man satisfied, and you really start allowing yourself to question why you weren’t good enough for him, that isn’t going to put you in a very good mindset when seeing all these fans that Alexia has.   
Her supporters aren’t limited to just little kids or grown men. There’s a lot of women here, also sporting her name. It isn’t necessarily the case that all of these women are gay, that’s not really how watching women’s football works. She can have straight women being her fans too.   
Some of them are probably gay, though, aren’t they? Lots of the ones that are gay, with her name on them, might have a little crush on her. It’s very likely that absolutely none of them will have had to do research all day to make sure that they knew what was going on this evening. All of them will have already known everything. They’ll be genuinely into football, genuine fans of Alexia.   
Gorgeous, confidently gay, and really into football. Those are the women that surround you right now. That’s fine. What’s wrong with that?  
Why are you letting yourself worry? Why are you letting them get to you? Because they make more sense for her? Because they’re better for her? Because you’re not a fan of football?   
Alexia already knows that, she didn’t walk out on you because of it. 
She did giggle a few times at your idiocy, though, didn’t she? So, she probably did think you were a little foolish. She would presumably think it was a bit lame of you, to have spent quite so much time studying for a football match. Who else has ever had to do that? You really probably are the only one. That is a bit embarrassing. Quite pathetic of you.   
Damn.   
What a loser, you are.   
Shit.   
Maybe you should let it get to you. Maybe you’ve let yourself get carried away. Maybe you’re having a psychotic break. You’re letting yourself fall for a woman. A Spanish woman. A famous Spanish woman. A famous Spanish woman who plays football professionally, for crying out loud! Look at all of these beautiful lesbian fans that she has here. What the hell do you think you’re playing at?   
You? A little nobody from London, who couldn’t even keep an ugly bastard of a man happy? If you weren’t even able to manage to do that, how could you possibly hope to be good enough, for two-time Ballon d’Or recipient, current Champions League and World Cup winner, Barcelona’s sweetheart, Alexia Putellas?   
That doesn’t seem very likely at all, does it? You being the soulmate of this ethereal goddess of a woman? Behave yourself. You really are delusional.   
Maybe that’s why she wanted you here, to laugh at you. Point and laugh at you with all of her football friends.   
Just go home now. Pretend that you’re ill. You do look a little ill. You’ve let yourself spiral, haven’t you? I did warn you about doing that. Now look at the state of you. This is very tragic.  
 
“Mate, what are you doing?” Em asks, as you once again find yourself paralysed, staring at yet another stranger’s shirt.    
“I just ..I don’t feel well.” You mumble.    
“Noo. Please don’t do that!” She begs, all too aware of what your next statement is going to be. “We’re here now!” She reminds you, bouncing on her toes. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have brought up that wanker, but please, we can still enjoy this together. You’ve been so excited about it all day.” She gives you a very sad pout, lightly pulling on your arm, trying to encourage you to keep following her.   
You really have been excited all day. It would be a shame to let your intrusive thoughts ruin it for you. You don’t want to let that bastard keep dictating all of the fun you’re allowed to have. You’re just here to enjoy some football.  
Woo!  
“Sorry. I just—” You pause, giving your head another shake as you try to catch your breath. “She’s just ..very popular.” You reiterate, gesturing to the stranger’s back with your thumb.   
“Did you think you’d be the only one here wearing her name?” She snorts. “I told you the woman who gave it to you was basic.”  
Your mind is still racing a little as you follow your sister out towards the stands. The atmosphere is even more intense inside of the stadium, and you try to let yourself embrace it all again, but it is mildly dizzying this time around.  
Em has nabbed you some pretty decent seats to be fair to her, though. One thing about your sister, she is absolutely going to treat herself and overspend on her interests without a care in the world. It’s something you often advise against her doing, it's not the wisest thing for her to do with her money. You couldn’t really be more grateful for it right now, though, when you’re practically sitting front row.  
Both teams are still out warming up, and you let your eyes roam the Barcelona side for a moment. You finally notice Alexia amongst all of the chaos, and you immediately stop noticing anything else. Your mind goes completely blank, just at the mere sight of her.  
She really does calm you right down, truly nothing else matters when she’s around you. That’s really very lovely. It’s a good thing you don’t live in two separate countries from each other. Imagine the way your mind would implode if you couldn’t just look at her all the time to stop your mental deterioration.. 
You watch Alexia, as she completes her runs, does some drills, begins to stretch. It’s like she’s the only one out there on the field, working in slow motion, putting on a show, just for you. There’s absolutely no reason for it to be as sexy as it is, she’s literally just warming up, but you find yourself, jaw clenched, as you observe her movements.   
She pauses for a drink break, and you remain mesmerised as she squeezes a jet of water into her mouth and pours a little extra over her face. You bite down on your bottom lip as you follow the beads of liquid rolling down her neck, slowly travelling under her shirt, and your breath hitches, as you allow yourself to remember exactly what it is that she’s concealing under her shirt. You can picture that body perfectly; you’ve thought of little else aside from it for over a month.  
She’s all hot, and sweaty, and— please! Pull yourself together! You’re in public, and you’re practically drooling. Do you remember when you were straight? Straight straight straight. Try channeling a bit more of that, perhaps. You’ll be an absolute puddle right there in your seat, otherwise.  
“There’s your one.” Your sister reminds you, making you jump as she nudges you and gestures down across to the pitch, once again pulling you away from your redacted thoughts.   
“Oh yeah! Thanks.” You tell her, feigning surprise, as you hide the small smile on your face, and swallow down on your arousal. You subtly wipe at the corners of your mouth with the back of your finger, just in case a bit of drool really had started falling, and you nod to your sister in acknowledgment. “She really is quite ..pretty.” You say pointedly, paying close attention to your sister’s thoughts and feelings on the matter.   
It probably wouldn’t be ideal if your sister showed an interest. She has a rather troubling talent with the ladies, and you’re not too sure you’d rate your chances going up against her, where another woman’s concerned.  
It really isn’t something you’ve ever had to think about before. There was never any chance of you two being into the same person until Alexia flicked a switch inside of your head. It was only a joke when she mentioned it in the café, but you can’t pretend it hasn’t niggled in the back of your mind a little.  
If you do end up introducing them, and they really hit it off? They almost certainly have more in common than you and Alexia do. They could talk for days about football together; they both have multiple tattoos where you only have a single measly little thing on your ribs. They’re both definitely gay, which is far more than you can say about yourself.  
That’s three strikes right there, isn’t it? That’s not very good.  
That’s all you get.  
You’re already out of the race.  
You’ll introduce them, they’ll fall in love, get married, have kids, and you’re left pining after your sister’s wife for the rest of eternity. Even the sweet release of death wouldn’t save you from a heartache that powerful. That’s an eternal pain. It’s permanent, infinite. A truly deathless agony that’ll haunt you till the very end of time itself.  
Good grief! 
What’s going on with you? You’re being very dramatic and sad suddenly. This really isn’t like you. You’ve only met this woman twice. Snap out of it! 
“Sure, I guess.” Em shrugs, not at all taken in by Alexia’s beauty. She really does have very questionable taste in women. You really should have known that already, that isn’t new information to you. You desperately need to calm down, you’re getting yourself into a really bad place.  
“Which one’s that?” She asks you, testing your knowledge as she points to another player on the field.   
“Ona Batlle.” You tell her confidently, shaking your worries from your head as you try to focus on what really matters right now. “Defender. Used to play for United.”  
“Very good,” she commends, genuinely quite impressed with the results of your last-minute cramming, “and that?”  
“María León. Mapi. Also, a defender. Didn’t go to the World Cup.”  
“Mhmm! And that?”  
“Not a bloody clue!”  
“For fuck’s sake.” She grumbles.   
“What? She’s one of yours,” you point out, grinning, “I don’t give a shit about the Chelsea players!”  
“You really are a twat.” She tells you, smacking your shoulder, before she crosses her arms and leans back into her seat. “Do you remember how the game works?” She asks you, rather condescendingly. “Do you need me to go through it all again for you?”  
“No, thank you.” You reassure her, innocently. “I think I’ve got it all memorised ..it’s just the best of three sets in the women’s game, right?”  
“Twat.” Em calls you again, and you chuckle to yourself, relaxing back down into your own seat, entirely satisfied with just how incredibly easy she is to wind up.  
You return your attention back to Alexia’s warmup routine, making sure to not keep letting your mind run wild with more dirty thoughts. It has been over a month for you, but even your sister’s showing a bit more decorum with her ogling of Sam Kerr. You really can control yourself better than this, you are not an animal.  
Alexia pauses her drills to have another sexy little drink, and you notice her surveying the crowd as she downs her water. She does a very careful examination of the away section, and she stops to stare, as soon as she finds you.  
You’re once again the only two people in the whole vicinity, as her eyes meet yours, and a bashful smile takes over her face.  
Whatever concerns you might be battling with, you can definitely be certain, that this woman wants you here today, and she isn’t at all discreet about how happy she is to see that you’ve come, and that you’re wearing her shirt.  
She mouths a little ‘hi’ to you, and it’s impossible for you not to smile at her, when your heart’s jumping up inside of your chest. You mouth back a ‘hi’ followed by a ‘wow’, with a slight wince, as you dramatically flit your eyes around your surroundings, and she bites at her lip, with a clear sense of awkwardness.  
‘I’m sorry.’ She tells you silently, but you shake your head at her with a furrowed brow.  
‘Don’t be daft, good luck!’ you offer with a smile, and a subtle thumbs up. You tap proudly at the badge on your chest, and Alexia’s smile only grows as she watches you.  
She responds with a nod, a ‘gracias’ and her own thumbs up, which clearly wasn’t as subtle as yours, as it didn’t go unnoticed by your sister.  
“Was that directed at you?” She asks, squinting at Alexia as she moves with the other players down towards the tunnel.   
“Hm? Looked like that, didn’t it?” 
“That’s quite cool.” She acknowledges. “She’ll probably think you got lost on the way in, sitting here with us. You don’t exactly blend in!”  
“No, that’s true.” You chuckle, tapping your hands down the red stripes on your torso. “Maybe she just felt bad for me, stuck here with you losers.”  
“Mm.” She grumbles, pulling a face at you. “That’s Sam Kerr!” She informs you excitedly, quickly moving on from your interaction, and focusing back on who she deems to be, the more important star of this evening’s show.   
“I know who Sam Kerr is,” you sigh, “I’m not an idiot. I’ve seen her poster on your wall.”  
“Mmmmmm.” She hums, gazing very dreamily at the striker as she makes her own way off of the pitch.   
“Oh, please.” You start, rolling your eyes at the state that she’s getting herself into. “Have some self-control, Em, we’re in public!”  
You really are a shameless little hypocrite.
  
Goosebumps spread all over your skin as the teams return to the pitch, and the Champions League anthem rings out around the stadium. You can feel the excitement really getting to you, as the hairs on your arms stand up on end.  
It’s very overwhelming. You couldn’t have cared less about this match yesterday morning, and now it’s the most important thing in the world to you.  
All for a girl, what has gotten into you?  
The game is highly contested right from the first whistle. With the first leg ending in a 0-0 draw, neither team is able to rely on aggregate to get themselves through, and you can feel the pressure that the players are under.  
Both sides are naturally desperate to win, though expectation is slightly higher for Barcelona, seeing as they won the whole thing last season.   
There’s a very mild sense of nervousness in you about the result. You’re not really sure how you’d go about consoling someone after a huge sporting defeat. You’ve never been very good at comforting Em when a football score has left her upset, and it’s probably far worse when you’re actually on the team that’s lost, and not just watching it through the television.  
You know exactly how Alexia would be able to cheer you up, and you’d be more than willing to try the same technique with her. She might not be as horned up as you clearly are, though. You may very well need to start drafting a proper commiserative speech for her, if the game does start running away from them. Sexual favours may simply not be enough.  
You do take some comfort in the fact that Barcelona haven’t lost to Chelsea before, and while you appreciate that nothing’s guaranteed in sports, Alexia’s very good, and you know for a fact that the rest of her teammates really aren’t too shabby either. There’s a reason that they’ve won this whole thing twice, and you’re letting the knowledge of that keep you from getting too worked up about it.  
Alexia’s the best in the world, and no best in the world is losing to bloody Chelsea, not today.  
Alexia’s incredible for you to watch when she plays, even when she only has possession for a second. She’s just a wizard on the ball, the way she reads the game so easily, how she seems to predict everyone’s movements. She’s always in control, unwaveringly calm, deliberate in her choices.  
She almost dances with the ball, and it’s impossible to deny how unbelievably gifted she is, as she weaves around her opponents. She has a very distinctive flair, for making it all look so effortless. It’s just incredibly sexy of her, and you find yourself wiping at the corners of your mouth again as you watch on, just in case.   
It’s not a skill that you’ve ever really appreciated in a person before. You’ve had boyfriends that played football in school, you watched your sister plenty of times when she was little, but you never really focused on them while they were actually playing.  
You’d cheer at the right moments, making the correct noises when you needed to, just following the rest of the crowd’s lead, mainly. You found it all a bit boring, really, it didn’t mean anything to you.   
Now, Alexia’s only casually passing the ball between herself and a few of her teammates, and you’re absolutely entranced by her, you couldn’t think of anything else you’d rather be watching. There’s a glow to her as she plays. She’s enthralling, captivating. You might be her number one fan.  
The match aside from Alexia’s performance, is far more tense than you’d care to admit. Both teams have plenty of attempts on goal, neither of them score. Every missed shot from Barcelona has you cursing under your breath, and every near goal from Chelsea has you covering your eyes like a child. It’s a little unbearable, you absolutely love it. It’s what sport’s all about.   
It’s a very unexpected reaction from you. The way your heart’s started palpitating, the slight tightness in your shoulders whenever a Chelsea player’s on the ball, the elation shooting through you every time Barcelona regains possession. It’s the skin around the nail of your thumb that suffers the most under your passion, as you nibble at it relentlessly, watching everything unfold with a high degree of intensity.   
You keep knocking your sister every time Alexia gets close to scoring, gripping at Em’s sleeve and tugging at her in anticipation. It’s hard to tell if it’s an excitable twitch, or if it’s stress-tapping of your foot, but every nerve in your body is on fire as you watch Alexia in her element. Em still can’t really understand your newly established avidity for the game, but she continually embraces it all with a light chuckle as she keeps telling you to “please, calm down.”   
The whistle blows for halftime and it’s still level at 0-0. You can barely contain yourself, letting out a huge breath that you weren’t fully aware you’d been holding in.   
“I can’t survive another half like that!” You warn Em, bashing your head against her shoulder. “I need a goal. Just one goal!” Your legs are bobbing up and down, as the adrenaline in you tries to find a way of escaping your body, and she rests her hand over them to calm you down.  
“Do you need a wee?” She asks, a little concerned at the mess you’re turning into, and you shake your head with a laugh.   
“No, I’m good, thanks! I just ..really want them to win.”  
“You’re really into it, aren’t you?” She chuckles.  
“Mhmm. Thank you for bringing me here.”  
“You’re welcome! I’m glad you decided to stay.” She tells you, with a proud smile on her face at finally winning you over on her favourite interest. “It’s a shame you’re rooting for the dark side, though. It’s weird that this is the team that speaks to you.”  
“Mm. I’m sorry about that.” You offer half-heartedly, pulling at the badge on your shirt to give it a kiss.  
“You’re such a traitor,” she tells you with a flick to your forehead, “Dad will be disgusted when I tell him.” 
 
The second half starts, and it’s much the same as the first. There’s more near misses, a few choice attempts on goal, and the game starts getting far sloppier as both sides get more desperate to score. There are some pretty ugly fouls, resulting in a few yellow cards being issued to both teams, and you’re suddenly far less concerned with winning, and far more worried about Alexia just making it out in one piece.  
“It’s quite brutal!” You point out to your sister, flinching as another Chelsea player goes tumbling to the ground.  
“Mm. You think she’d be more careful.” She tells you. She taps at the number on your shirt, and it sends an instant chill racing up the back of your neck.  
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You question, biting down hard on your thumb as you await her response.  
“She tore her ACL a couple years back, took her out of the Euros. She hardly played at all last season.” 
“Tore her ACL?” You ask, exhaling slowly as you make the connection in your head. “Would that be her knee?” 
“Mhmm.” 
“Shit.” Drops out of your mouth, as you bite your thumb a little too deeply, and you try to shake the stinging from your hand.  
It makes sense, that Em would choose to withhold this little titbit of information from you, you really are quite squeamish. If you’d known this game could turn into such a bloodbath, you’d have probably elected to stay home. 
Alexia had played it coy, when you traced your fingers over her scars that night. She wasn’t exactly uncomfortable with you asking her about them, but it still wasn’t something she was going to get into with you. You weren’t going to force the issue too hard, you’re not an idiot, but it had certainly piqued your interest. She really wasn’t forthcoming with any information about herself, and it quickly became apparent how talented she was at deflecting from your queries.  
It stopped being at the forefront of your mind completely, when she was otherwise so distracting with it. Her scars didn’t inhibit her at all when she was pressing her knee against you. It felt good, she seemed fine, who were you to question? 
“Should she be playing at all?” You ask flicking your thumb against your finger to try and weaken the pain shooting through it.  
“Sure! Lots of them do, you just think it’d freak ‘em out a bit more.” She tells you. “It’s amazing she still throws herself into it as much as she does, really.” 
“You don’t become the best by tapping out.” You recognise, and she excitedly nods her head at you.  
“No, exactly! Sometimes it happens again, though. Can be the exact same rupture, different tear, same leg. A few players have it happen to their other leg..” Em continues to give you a very unhelpful rundown of just how common this career-jeopardising injury seems to be, and an uncomfortable lump forms in your throat as she goes a little too deep into all of the details with it. “Are you okay?” She asks, cutting herself off at your obvious discomfort at her lecture, and she gently taps at your shoulder. “You’ve gone quite pale.” 
“I don’t like seeing people get hurt, you know that.” 
“She’ll be alright.” She reassures you, gesturing to the Chelsea player as she pulls herself back to her feet. “It’s just when a player gets stretchered off, really. That’s when you properly worry about them.” 
You suddenly find yourself, very stressed. 
It immediately feels like Alexia, in particular, has a target on her back as the game continues. Every time she gets on the ball, a Chelsea player comes flying in, rather aggressively, trying to win it back off of her. It’s a very violent onslaught, and it’s not one that you’re keen on watching.   
She spends most of the second half having to drag herself back to her feet, and you no longer feel like you can just blame it on the slightly wet grass, when there’s a menacing little Chelsea player hovering ominously over her every time she goes down to the ground.  
The game is still level as the clock starts running down the final few minutes, but any sense of relief that this torture is almost over, is immediately extinguished, as you remember that this specific game would have to go to extra time, and then penalties, if no one’s able to break the deadlock.   
Penalty shootouts, on their own, are usually just about the only thing you can tolerate in football, when you’re a neutral with zero stakes. It sounds like a nightmare now, however. Especially as it means you’d have to endure 30 extra minutes of the Chelsea players’ assault on Alexia.   
You really can’t take it. Your heart’s started thumping. You have a headache forming. Your fingers have turned to ice.  
You’re out of your seat as Alexia makes a beeline for the goal in the 87th minute. It’s an incredible scoring opportunity, she can’t miss.   
A Chelsea defender appears to the side of her, as if from nowhere as Alexia lines up her shot, and she’s brutally slid into, just outside of the area.   
You can hear the collision as it happens, it almost reverberates throughout the whole stadium. Life in the arena comes to a complete standstill, as everyone just watches it all unfold.   
Alexia goes down, and the world stops spinning, your heart stops beating, and time stands still.   
She stays down, and your body goes rigid, your blood runs cold, and you want to be sick.  
Get up. Please get up.  
Your sister grips on to your arm trying to comfort you, trying to tell you that it probably isn’t as bad as it looked, but your eyes don’t move from where Alexia lies on the floor, clutching her knee.   
Medics are rushed onto the pitch with a stretcher in hand, and you remain frozen in place.   
Please get up. Just get up.  
The defender is back on her feet only a minute after the tackle, and she’s shown a yellow card for her foul. You want to throttle the referee right there and then.  
“It should be a straight fucking red!” You shout, as you grip your hands together on the top of your head, trying to distract yourself from the burning in your eyes, and the new quiet ringing that’s started in your ears.   
You receive a couple of snide looks from the supporters surrounding you for your little outburst, and you can hear a few less-than-friendly words being bellowed out at you, but frankly, you don’t give a fuck.  
Just get up. Get up and walk off if you have to. Just get. up.  
You want to jump over the seats. Push every annoying, arsehole supporter in a Chelsea shirt right out of your way and invade the pitch to be with her. Your body’s screaming out at you to do something, anything, and you can’t. You’re useless to her.   
Just get up.  
Alexia looks to be in agony on the ground. A few of the Barcelona players are swarming the referee for her blatant incompetence. Even the other Chelsea players are a little amazed that they’ve gotten away with it, without going a player down.   
It was a dirty foul. Out of character, according to your sister. You don’t care. It could’ve been a complete accident by her, and you’re not fussed. It was reckless, it was filthy, and she should be off that goddamn pitch with some level of suspension at least.  
Get up. Please.  
Em tries to pull you back into your seat and you still don’t budge. You stand where you are, watching the small crowd on the pitch, as it slowly blocks Alexia from your view. You bite at the skin on your thumb, willing yourself to stay calm, willing Alexia to just get the fuck up.   
It feels like a lifetime waiting for things to happen, for any sign of development from the scene on the ground. You ultimately collapse back down into your chair, trying to catch your breath, trying to stop the world from swirling around you, trying to stop your brain from assuming the worst. You close your eyes, holding your face in your hands, blocking it all out.  
Get. Up.   
This isn’t really what you signed up for, is it? You wanted to watch the girl you like, play a little game of football. Possibly celebrate her winning, with some adult-fun-time. Not find out that she’s fairly recently had such a serious injury, and then watch her go crashing down to the ground, holding that specific body part. You can’t do anything about it. You can’t help. You’re stuck in place, watching it all happen right in front of you.  
This is torture. Maybe this is why you never let yourself get into football. Who is this fun for exactly? What’s the point in it all?  
What an unbelievably useless waste of your time. You were already in a bad enough place before the game kicked off and distracted you from it. Now it’s made it worse. This is terrible. You really should have just stayed home. Imagine coming all the way out to Spain and making yourself bloody ill with it. Jesus Christ.  
Please. Get up.  
After what feels like hours, the medics do start slowly dissipating and there’s a cautious ripple of applause around the stadium, because Alexia has gotten up, but not of her own accord. She’s being flanked by Mapi and Asisat, and she looks very unstable.  
They carefully remove themselves from under her arms, and she’s not very well balanced at all. She’s reluctant to put too much weight on her leg, she’s limping, and she’s still gripping onto Mapi for dear life, but she's not being stretchered off. She’s up, and you can breathe again.   
You watch on as she tests her strength, steadily gaining confidence that her knee isn’t going to give way beneath her, and she puts her hand up to Jonatan to indicate that she will not be getting subbed off. She gives her body a shake, looks over in your direction, and she nods to herself with a reinvigorated sense of determination.   
You don’t know if you’re completely turned on by her bold display of bravery, or if you want to give her a slap for being quite so carelessly audacious. She doesn’t need to play the hero; you’d rather she just sat it out.  
“What is she doing?” You mutter under your breath, shaking your head as Alexia waits to be let back into the game.  
“You don’t become the best by tapping out!” Em reminds you, with a smile, patting your shoulder reassuringly. Her entire demeanour is in stark contrast to the one that you’re currently displaying, and as comforting as she’s trying to be by rubbing at your arm, it isn’t very effective. “Are you sure you’re okay?” She asks. “You look really unwell.”  
“Mhmm.” Is all you’re able to mumble out, as your eyes lock onto Alexia on the sidelines.  
The free kick awarded for the foul is saved, and Alexia’s back on the pitch for the corner. You want to stop her. You want to swear at her. You can’t handle it. You need a drink.   
You grab at the neckline of your shirt and pull it up over the bottom half of your face. You’re very very stressed. Even the familiar smell of her on your top isn’t doing much to comfort you. She’s an idiot. She’s so unbelievably stupid. What the fuck?  
You watch the corner kick, as the ball goes sailing over the heads of everyone, before it connects with Alexia’s forehead and skims past the tips of the keeper’s fingers.   
The stadium erupts around you, and you’re back up off of your seat, letting out your own roar in celebration. Your eyes are absolutely stinging with tears, as you hold your forehead against your hands, and there’s more than a few snide looks at you from the supporters you’re buried in, given your lack of propriety about the situation.  
You’re getting called every colourful derogatory term under the sun for your rather ungodly little cheer, and still, you couldn’t care less. You let out a few huge breaths, trying to steady yourself, and despite her team now trailing in the final minutes, Em wraps her arms around you, giving you a shake, as she tries to get you to properly enjoy the moment.  
Alexia points up to the sky in celebration, and you can hear her name being gradually chanted around the stands. It catches in your ear, echoing in a crescendoing drone. It’s deafening, unrelenting, and you try to shake it back out of your head before it really starts getting too much for you.  
You know that there’s going to be a fair few minutes of added time with how many fouls the second half has had and given how long Alexia was just down for especially, but you can see how the life’s just been completely zapped from the Chelsea side. They’re not equalising today; the game is done.   
The whistle blows for full time at 1-0 and you finally slump back down into your seat. The stadium is going absolutely wild around you, and you just close your eyes to it, waiting for it all to die down.  
You can hear your sister trying to pull you out of your head, but you press your palms against your eyelids, trying to block everything out. Your body’s racking itself. There’s a sharp shortness to your breath, an uneven rapidity to your heartbeat. Your head’s burning up, and your eyes are stinging.  
You’re not really cut out for this, are you? It’s all gotten a bit much. You really are spiralling, look at the state of you. All this, because of one unfortunate, mistimed tackle? Because there’s a few extra people here that know Alexia’s name?   
Barcelona just won, Alexia just scored the winning goal, and you’re collapsing in on yourself. 
What would you have been like if they had just lost? If Alexia had been genuinely hurt? Not much good, clearly. Not very helpful.  
Alexia deserves someone better. Someone who doesn’t go into a panic in the stands whenever she hits the deck. Someone who isn’t unnerved by her celebrity status. Maybe someone, who isn’t questioning her identity, at the ripe old age, of 26.  
She deserves someone, who very much, isn’t you. 
It takes a few minutes for you to come back around, pulling yourself from your oppressive thoughts, and you can see colourful stars in your eyes as you finally relieve the pressure you were forcing against them. Em offers you some water, and you down it while she stares at you, her brow wrinkled with worry.   
“Are you okay?”  
“Mhmm. I’m fine, sorry.”  
“You won!” She points out, with a cautious optimism, smiling at you as she chuckles softly. “You’re supposed to be celebrating, not ..whatever the hell this is.”  
“I’m really sorry, I just ..I don’t like people getting hurt.”  
“You wouldn’t have had to go to a hospital with her, it’s alright.”  
“Mm.”  
She gives you a hug, which lasts a suspiciously long time for her, and you can feel her jaw moving against your shoulder as she lifts her head slightly.  
“Are you okay?” You ask, frowning as you push her away from you.   
“Mhmm.” She mumbles, not moving her eyes away from whatever it is that she’s seen behind you. “Are you definitely fine?” She checks again, with a mild desperation to her voice.  
“..Yes?” You reassure her, turning around in your seat to try and follow her gaze.  
“I’ll see you in the morning, then!” She tells you hastily, and she nudges your arm, before tossing your sweatshirt from her bag at you, and straightening herself up.  
“Wait, what?” You question, rather baffled by her quick switch in focus. “Where are you going tonight?”  
Em just directs your vision up a few rows of seats, to a red-headed woman who has very clearly taken her fancy. They’ve been making googly-eyes at each other all match apparently. Since you wound your sister up earlier, with your unwavering new support for the enemy, and Chelsea have just crashed out of the Champions League again, she’s going home with her tonight, to drown her sorrows.   
She really does have an incredible success rate with the ladies, at least you won’t have to make breakfast for this one in the morning.  
 
“You’re off, just like that?” You ask.   
“We can hang out again tomorrow?”  
“Aw, I appreciate that, Em. Thanks!” 
She chuckles at you, bouncing on her toes. “Ring taxi-man.” She advises you with a wink. “Or try to find your mysterious hickey-man, again! You deserve to have fun tonight. Celebrate the win properly! Get yourself another love bite!”  
“Mm.” You mutter, and she crouches down in front of you again.  
“Are you sure you’re okay?” She asks. “I can stay with you, if you want?”  
“Hm? No, don’t be daft. It’s fine, really.  Thanks. Go, have fun.”  
She doesn’t hang around long enough for you to change your mind. She gives you a far quicker hug than the previous one, patting you on the head, before running off and introducing herself to her new friend at the steps. They both cast you a quick wave, which you return a little awkwardly, before they walk up towards the exit. Just as easy as that.  
“Be safe!” You call out to them behind you, as you turn your attention back to the celebrations on the pitch.  
It takes a long while for the atmosphere in the stadium to really start fizzling out, and there’s still a distinct little hum of excitement that rattles through it, as the crowd dwindles, and the players continue making their way around the grounds.   
Alexia grins up at you as she passes by your section, and you can only manage to give her a weak smile in return as you pat your leg at her with a questioning look. She smacks her knee a couple of times, smiling with a dramatic roll of her eyes, and she gives you a thumbs up to signal to you that she really is okay. She isn’t limping anymore as she heads over towards the fans, so you could almost pretend it hadn’t happened at all, if it hadn’t been quite so mentally draining.   
A fair amount of supporters still line the barriers, holding out shirts and signs, and just about anything else that they can get a player’s autograph scrawled onto. Most of them are shouting for Alexia’s attention, and her popularity and fame is still quite an overwhelming thing for you to take in.  
She doesn’t miss any of them, they all get their moment with her. She makes sure everyone gets seen too, everything gets signed. She doesn’t rush a single encounter, and you don’t miss the way people’s faces keep lighting up whenever she approaches them.  
It’s very hard not to keep falling for her, watching her interact with people, the way that she is with them. She’s just good. She’s good at what she does, she's good with her fans, she’s a good person.   
You’re biting at your thumb again.  
The knuckles on your other hand, turning white, with the vice-like grip that you have on her sweatshirt. Your legs are bobbing, and you can feel your fingers freezing up. There’s a lot of combatting emotions fighting for dominance in your head, and you’re very unsure of yourself.  
The Chelsea fans were in far less of a partying mood, clearly, as you find yourself the only one left in the away section. You watch Alexia converse with the ever-diminishing crowd for a moment longer, before deciding, maybe it’s time for you to go, too.  
This isn’t your world; you don’t belong in it. It’s been a fun time with her, and there’s definitely a something between you, that’s been nice to explore, but there’s clearly been some sort of mistake. A divine, serendipitous little mix-up. She can’t be the one for you, as you’re really not the right one for her. It’s okay for this to be it, it’s okay for you to go.  
You walk down to the barrier and carefully rest her sweatshirt over it. You can’t really also leave her football shirt behind with it, but she’s probably not desperate for that back. She’ll have loads of them lying about, there’s probably another one waiting in her training bag, ready for her to give to someone else.  
You pat at the sweatshirt a few times, debating with yourself, and you look back up across the pitch to where Alexia is still signing shirts. She almost certainly does deserve someone better than you but abandoning her is still quite a harsh thing for you to do, she definitely deserves better than that.  
You can’t just leave her and not give her a reason for it, that’s very cruel. She was excited to see you, she’ll be upset if you walk out on her.  
You crash your head down onto the sweatshirt trying to decide your next move, letting out a quiet groan as you draw a blank. She’s still preoccupied with her fans when you raise your head again, and you start pacing the length of the railing tapping the tips of your fingers together.  
You look back down at the sweatshirt, across to Alexia, and up to the exit. Down at the sweatshirt, across to Alexia, and up to the exit.  
Sweatshirt, Alexia, exit.  
Sweatshirt, Alexia, exit. 
Sweatshirt, Alexia, exit. Exit. Exit.  
You find yourself stuck on the steps, only a second later, facing away from the pitch, without her sweatshirt in your hands. You’re really not sure what your plan is. 
You do still have that number in your pocket, you could always give him a call, he really was very good-looking, exactly your usual type. Tall, dark, handsome. Friendly. Very friendly. It’s classic to you, it’s easy. Maybe your sister’s right. You need to have a meaningless night with some random company that you just don’t give a shit about.   
You really just don’t want to go out with him, though. There’s a woman on the other side of the pitch that your heart’s still lunging out in the direction of, who still puts butterflies in your stomach every time she so much as looks at you.  
You don’t want to leave. You like this woman too much. There’s something real between you. Something strong.  
Maybe it’s too strong.  
It’s impossibly strong.  
It’s a delusional level of strong.  
You’re almost at the final step before the exit, when you hear a little whistle from behind you and it stops you in your tracks. Maybe it was that little bungee cord between you both, that alerted her to your leaving.  
It sends another chill coursing up the back of your neck, and there’s an instant blurring to your vision, as your eyes start welling up. 
“Y/N?” She calls up to you, with a small strain to her voice, and you flinch, your gaze dropping to the floor. Your jaw clenches, and you freeze in place, closing your eyes, in the hopes of just disappearing from right there in front of her.  
You can still go, just keep walking. It would still be very hard for her to find you. She doesn’t have your surname, or your address, she doesn’t know your phone number. 
You can get a clean break.  
Leave it as a solo night of fun. The meaningless distraction from him, that it was always supposed to have been. Stop letting yourself fall for her. Stop letting yourself care and worry, about a woman that you barely know. Go home. Behave. Find yourself a man and get on with your regular life.  
There’s another cautious whistle as you debate with yourself, and your heart aches, hearing it echo around you. You shift your body weight, awkwardly, from your toes to your heels, and back again, a fair few times. You drum your fingers against your thighs, over your stomach, and you look up at the sky, searching for an answer.  
You need someone to give you a push, give you a sign that you’re not making another mistake. You want your sister to come back and slap some sense into you. You want your mother to tell you what to do, she always did have the right answers.  
You gently tap your fingers to your face, trying to pull yourself back into your body, as you study the stars above you.  
There seems to be a definite twinkle to one of them, and you really don’t care if you’re just seeing things. You’re looking for an excuse, any excuse, and a slight flicker in the sky, is exactly what you needed. 
You straighten yourself up, before letting out a long breath with a small nod. You bounce on your toes, and you give your eyes a quick rub, before you ever so slowly, turn yourself back around.   
You might still be an idiot. A whole damn blasted fool.  
But she’s impossible for you to walk away from. That’s just not how it’s going to work with her. She already means too much, you’re already in too deep. She’s set up shop inside of your head, she’s already living inside of your heart. You couldn’t walk away from her, even if you wanted to. 
She has your heart skipping beats, whenever she says your name. She has the rest of existence fading into nothingness around you, when all she’s done is take your hand in hers. She sends goosebumps down your neck when she whispers to you, has you rolling your eyes with a chuckle, when she’s being a playful windup. Your mind starts spinning when she kisses you, and you feel safe when you’re resting in her arms.  
You had one of the best afternoons of your life yesterday, doing nothing, but spend a bit more time with her. Learning about her, laughing with her, kissing her. She’s put a burning inside of you, and a smile on your face. You spent the whole of last night, wide awake, because you couldn’t wait to see her again. She told you that she couldn’t wait to see you, either.  
This isn’t a solo night of fun, it’s not a meaningless distraction. It never really has been with her. It might very well be your person, that’s waiting for you down there, and you’d only stand to lose everything, if you walk away from her now.  
You draw in a breath and look down to the sidelines of the pitch. It’s the greatest women’s footballer in the world, that’s leaning up against the stands for you, and she’s hoping, that you’re not about to leave her, not without at least saying goodbye to her first.    
She looks very small when you see her. All the grandeur, and spectacle that shrouded her during the game, has been completely wiped once again. She’s just Alexia, Ale, A. She’s just a woman that you met in a nightclub, just a girl that you’ve been getting to know.  
There’s a very obvious sense of worry in her, it’s not a look that often spreads across her face. She shuffles herself, tapping her hands gently on the sweatshirt over the barrier as she tilts her head down towards the ground, and you steadily make your way back down the steps towards her.  
“Felicitats.” You offer weakly, and she smiles softly up at you.  
“Gràcies.”  
“Is your knee okay?” 
“Yes.”   
“Are you sure?”  
“Yes. I promise.”   
“It wasn’t a very friendly challenge.” You tell her, frowning at the tunnel that the Chelsea player made her escape from you down. “You gave me a fright, when you didn’t bounce straight back up. Are you definitely okay?”  
“Yes, I’m fine!” She insists. “Look!” She tells you, patting her knee a few more times, and kicking her leg out to show you that it hasn’t fallen off. You can’t not smile back at her when she’s being so very cute, even if she is incredibly stupid. “I promise you, it’s fine.” She repeats, and you just have to believe her.  
“You didn’t fancy telling me your big secret, yourself?” You call out, as you continue making your way towards the pitch, glancing around the stadium, before sliding your hands into your back pockets.   
“It didn’t feel ..that important,” is the excuse she gives to you, as she picks at the fabric in her hands, “the night that we first met.”  
“And yesterday?” You push, crinkling your brow up slightly. “Still not that important?”  
Her gaze drops to the ground as you wait on the bottom step, and you nibble at the inside of your mouth. “Are you angry with me?” She asks nervously, quietly tapping her hands with a bit more agitation, and not yet meeting your eyes.  
There’s a painful twinge in your heart as you watch her unfamiliar mannerisms, you much prefer when she’s being insufferably cocky and annoying. It’s far less painful, a lot more fun.  
You let out a breath, before closing the rest of the distance between you both, and you gently rest your hands on top of hers, to stop her little nervous drum solo. She still doesn’t lift her head to face you, and you take in a shaky breath, readying yourself.  
“Do I seem angry?” You ask her quietly, trying to encourage her to look at you, as you delicately draw shapes on the backs of her hands, to distract you both a little from the obvious tension.  
You don’t miss the goosebumps that quickly form up Alexia’s arms as you do, and there’s a feeling that jolts inside of you, knowing that you both have the exact same effect on each other, even with the most casual of touches.  
She lifts her eyes to study your face, and she shakes her head, as you smile softy back at her.  
“Well, there you go then!” You tell her with a light chuckle, placing a kiss to her forehead before resting yourself against the railing between you both, and she lets out a wobbly breath. “Of course I’m not angry with you ..I did feel a bit stupid last night, that I really didn’t know.” You explain. “..I feel a bit intimidated, now that I do.”  
“I’m still just me.” She reminds you quickly, and you can see the shimmer in her eyes, as she tries to keep herself from cracking.   
You can’t help narrowing your eyes at her little claim as she collapses her head down into you, nestling it in the crook of your neck. “They call you the bloody queen, Alexia.” You remind her, and she shakes her head against you.  
“I hate that title.” She confesses. “I promise you, I’m still just me.” 
 
It’s hard to deny her that. When all of the noise has died out, and it’s only the two of you left. She is just her, she’s just another woman. A woman who is very clearly worrying about you and your reaction to her career. She knows that she stands to lose you because of it, and it’s very obvious, as her tears pool on your skin, that that isn’t something she wants to happen.   
Despite it still being ridiculously early days between you both, this connection that you feel so strongly, may very well be reciprocated by her, and it would be a shame, for a bit of football, to stand in the way of it.  
It’s terrifying, knowing that she can get hurt. Realising that everything she’s worked so hard her whole life for, rests on a knife’s edge, every time she steps foot onto the pitch. It isn’t easy, being made aware of how common of an injury it is, and how there’s no way of protecting her from it.   
If she’s going to get injured again, that’s just a harsh reality of football, and that’s a very difficult pill for you to swallow. It’s not a risk that you can stop her from taking, either. This is her dream, and you’d just have to support her through it. The good, and the bad.  
It’s also a little disconcerting, knowing how adored she is. The fact that she’s quite a bit famous, especially in this city, if nothing else. As much as you don’t want to let it seep into your mind, and affect your thoughts about Alexia too deeply, it’s impossible for it not to have altered things for you slightly.  
You’re only human, and you weren’t really fully prepped, on what her celebrity actually entailed. She was just another regular person to you yesterday, but in reality, she is clearly very far from that, and it’s a little unfair that she wasn’t the one to break the news to you. To give you some sort of heads up, before throwing you in at the deep end today.  
But ..you really were having fun, before it all went south. You were excited, you were proud, you were enjoying a football match. She does things to you. She brings out a side of yourself that you’ve never explored before, a side that’s laid dormant, for your entire life. She’s incredible, in ways that largely transcend her achievements on the pitch.   
Alexia’s never made you doubt yourself. She’s never given you any reason to question her interest in you, that’s one thing that she’s never been secretive about.  
She doesn’t know what you do for a living, but she probably correctly assumes that you’re not famous, and that hasn’t put her off at all. She doesn’t think she’s too good for you, she hasn’t treated you like you’re beneath her.  
Her fame doesn’t follow her everywhere, you were able to be completely oblivious to it, before your sister told you about it. It’s not debilitating, it doesn’t stop you from having moments together. It’s something you might have to get used to. Find a way of understanding it, learn how to cope with it. Especially on match days, when you really can’t ignore the actual magnitude of it. That wouldn’t be impossible for you to do.
  
There’s a connection between you both, it doesn’t matter how celebrated she is. You haven’t just shared a few careless kisses; it wasn’t just one night of meaningless sex. There’s something real between you both, and it already existed before you knew who she was. This madness that surrounds her, was always the reality; you were just unaware of it.  
There was a spark, regardless. You’d have the same connection with her if she was filling shelves in a supermarket, why should this be any different?  
She wasn’t put off by your lack of interest in football. She really wanted you here today. She gave you her shirt to wear. She told you she hoped you’d enjoy the game. There were tens of thousands of people in attendance this evening, and she searched for you, specifically.   
She deliberately put you in a contrasting shirt, so that she’d easily be able to find you, so that she’d definitely know that you came, and that you were here, watching her. That’s all she wanted. She just wanted you to see her play, and for you to have fun while doing it. She wanted you here, cheering her on. The best player in the world, and she's been choosing you. A little nobody from London.  
You’re allowed to be excited about that. You’re allowed to stop questioning her and second-guessing yourself. You don’t need to pay attention to the noise around you, the excited obsession with her from strangers, those distracting little seeds of doubt that he’s put into your head about yourself.  
There’s just her. There’s just Alexia, and she wanted you here.  
“Well ..just you,” you start softly, placing a kiss to the side of her head, “is a bloody lot more impressive than most people ..you were incredible out there.” You whisper shakily, and you can feel as she smiles against you, burying her head further into your neck.  
“You enjoyed it?” She breathes, and you can see a small bit of the weight that she’s bearing, lifting from her shoulders.   
“Until that moment. Yeah, I really did!” You tell her, smiling in mild disbelief at yourself. “I was worried, that I might have to pretend for you, but I just ..really loved watching you play, seeing you score!”  
“Were you quietly cheering?” She asks, pulling herself back from you, to excitedly take you in.   
“There was nothing quiet about it!” You admit with a grin, as you wipe away the streaks of tears on Alexia’s cheeks with the backs of your fingers. “You scored the winner!”  
The biggest smile spreads over her face at your bold act of tiny rebellion, and she pinches at the fabric of your shirt, gliding her fingers down the front of it, as she gives it a quick examination. “You were lucky they didn’t throw tomatoes at you, then!” 
“Mhmm! I did get a few words thrown at me, mind! There’s some horrible people about.” You tell her, as she continues holding onto your shirt. Her eyes meet yours and it’s a pair of nervous smiles that you exchange with each other. “I know it won’t mean much, coming from me. I’ve not watched a lot of football, and I know you have some pretty big awards for it, but ..you’re really bloody good! I’m so proud of you.”  
“It means everything.” She tells you ardently, pulling you into her over the railing. “I’m so glad you enjoyed it!”  
You let yourself get lost in her embrace for a moment, while she clings to the back of your shirt, and you can hear as her breath hitches when you place a quick kiss to her neck.  
“I really didn’t enjoy watching you get taken down, mind.” You reiterate, quietly.   
“No? I didn’t love that either, really.” She admits, chuckling to herself.  
“But you’re definitely okay?” You check again, pulling away from her to look properly at her leg.   
“Yes. I promise you. It’s fine, I’m fine. It just happens sometimes.” She shrugs.  
“Please don’t tell me that!” You beg, quickly shaking your head at her. “You can’t be putting me through that every match!”  
“Mm? You’ll be watching more games?” She asks, with that famous little smirk coming back into view as you nod your head at her.   
“I mean, it’s a bitch of a commute to do this weekly, but I’ll definitely be watching you on the telly, when I can’t make it.”  
“Wow.” She says, linking her arms together behind your neck. “You really did enjoy it.”  
“I know ..you’ve broken me!” You chuckle, as she rests her forehead to yours, and her lips are once again, the only thing you can focus on. You watch as she wets them in front of you, and it almost feels like she’s taunting you a little bit. “Are we allowed to kiss here?” You ask, trying to disguise your desperation, as you pull yourself away to scan the stadium.  
There’s only a few random stragglers making their exits up the steps, and none of them seem to be paying any attention to the pair of you at all. So, it might not be beyond the realms of possibility.  
Alexia takes your face in her hands and tilts your head. “Yes.” She tells you, simply, and she pulls you into her, capturing your lips with hers. She doesn’t do her own check of your surroundings at all; she really isn’t too fussed if anyone’s watching you both this time.  
It’s quite the romantic place to have a kiss, honestly. A huge colosseum, that’s almost entirely empty, a blanket of stars in the sky up above you. It’s not a kiss with any caution. It’s not hasty or secretive. It’s familiar, safe, and it’s able to finally be unreserved.   
It’s a kiss that the pair of you have been craving. One that doesn’t taste of tequila, that doesn’t have to be hidden from view, and one that doesn’t have the looming dread of immediate departure attached to it. It’s a slow deep kiss, that feels like home, and you’re quite content to drown yourself in it.  
“Where’s Em?” Alexia asks, and she really has ruined the moment.   
She seems unaware, as her lips are still moving against yours, but you freeze, breaking the kiss at her twisted choice of topic.  
“Woww?” You drag out, pulling back from her with a frown. “Mentioning my sister is a real mood-killer I do hope you realise!”  
“I’m sorry!” She giggles, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth.   
“You’re supposed to have come over here for me, not her!”  
“I did come over for you!” She tells you, rolling her eyes at your dramatics. “I just meant ..you’re here on your own.”  
“Mm. She left me.”  
“Why?”  
“She met a girl, while we were watching you play,” you explain, “they’ve gone back to hers already.”  
“Oh?” She questions, her eyes sparkling as she arches an eyebrow at you. “To play cards?”  
“Yeah,” you chuckle, “I think so.”  
She links her arms back over your shoulders, leaning in very close. “So ..you’re without company tonight?” She checks, her lips ghosting yours, and your heart starts racing again at the suggestive tone to her voice.   
“Mhmm. That’s quite sad, isn’t it? When I’m on holiday?”  
“That’s very sad.” She agrees, tracing your jawline with her index finger.  
It’s hard not to have a physical reaction to the way that she’s always touching you, and you swallow down as she angles your face to draw her mouth even closer to you, your breath catching in your throat as her lips brush against yours.  
“Are you short on company tonight?” You whisper, rather shakily.  
“Mhmm.”  
“Oof. That might be even sadder.” You point out, and she nods in agreement with a small pout, before finally succumbing to another long kiss.  
You breakaway, entirely short on breath, and she smiles as the obvious effect she’s just had on you as you try to come to your senses. “Do you ..not want to celebrate with your teammates?”  
“Not really.” She tells you, her pupils dilating as her eyes roam over your body.  
“Would you ..maybe, want to do something with me, then?” 
“Are you asking me on a date?” She asks, her cocky little smile curving her lips, and you chuckle despite yourself.   
“I really think I might be. You admit. “I don’t know what you’ve done to me!” You tell her, shaking your head with a smile. “I’d never looked at another woman before, never cared about a football result. Never asked someone out on a date.”  
“Mm? And now look at you.” She says, cradling your face as she searches your eyes. “Does it scare you?” She asks, stroking her thumb over your cheek, and you pause for a beat in consideration.  
“A little,” you confess, “but never when I’m with you.”  
Your candour earns you another kiss. Whether she’s fully aware of the power her lips have on calming your nerves, or she just fancied kissing you, you don’t really know, and you don’t really care. You welcome it the same way you’ve welcomed every other kiss from her, and the same way you’ll continue to welcome any future kisses from her, should you be so lucky.  
“Were you going to leave me?” Alexia asks after a moment, tapping at the sweatshirt again with a horrible look of uncertainty in her eyes.  
“I really don’t know.” You tell her honestly, and worry creases her brow, as you let out a breath. “I don’t think I’d have got very far,” you admit, “but it’s just ..been a lot to take in.”  
There’s a familiar look of understanding from her. It’s the exact same look she had given you when you’d stayed still in the hotel elevator, as she had made her exit. It’s a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, that barely curves her lips. It’s a look of acceptance, resignation, and it’s a heartbreaking sight to see.   
“I don’t want to leave you.” You clarify. “I don’t really know ..what this is, between us, but I know how I feel about you, and I don’t want to run from it. I just know ..that you can probably do better.”  
You bop your own hand gently on the barrier in a fist, and she narrows her eyes at you. “What do you mean by that?” She asks, and you nibble at the inside of your mouth.   
“I freaked out ..when you went down. It got to me outside, seeing your name everywhere. I couldn’t ..really tell you what my sexuality is, at this point.” You take a breath, still knocking your fist awkwardly on the railing. “There’ll be so many other women, more sure of themselves, more ..prepared, and ready to embrace everything.” You explain, closing your eyes to stop them from stinging. “They won’t need to study your team before you play, they won’t go into a panic every time another player gets a little too close to you. They’ll be just as desperate to be with you, and they’ll be bett—”  
You’re cut off from your little ramble, with what you’re assuming was a kiss.  
Your eyes are closed, and it was unbelievably quick. You’d be forgiven for thinking you’d imagined it completely; it was really quite so fleeting. If the fireworks that Alexia’s set off on your lips weren’t quite so familiar to you, you might have thought it was a bee that had stung you. She’s really gone and left you all lightheaded with little more than a peck.  
“You kissed me!” You tell her breathlessly, as though she wasn’t the one to do it to you.  
“Mhmm. Imagine that.” She says, as she lets her eyes roam over your face with a small smile. “You studied the team?”  
“I know, I’m sorry.” You cringe. “I just didn’t want to not know who you played with. I mean, I didn’t even know who you were yesterday, what chance would I have had with any—”  
She kisses you again, the exact same way, leaving you with the exact same reaction.  
“You kissed me!” You repeat, and she chuckles at you, nodding her head.  
“Mhmm. You’re on vacation,” she reminds you, “and you spent the day studying my team?”  
“Mm.”  
“And you worried about me getting hurt?” 
“Mm.” 
“And you’re so desperately into me, that I’ve got you questioning your sexuality?” She winks.  
“I mean..” you chuckle softly, rolling your eyes, “..maybe.” 
“And you really think, that any of that ..would make me like you less?” She asks, narrowing her eyes with that familiar smirk.  
“Well ..sort of.” You admit. “I mean ..the studying. Most people wouldn’t need to do that.”  
“You didn’t need to do that.” She points out.  
“Mm ..no, I really think I did.” You chuckle. “I didn’t know anything about football this morning, you can ask Em.” 
“You don’t care about football.” She reminds you. 
“Maybe not ..but I care a little bit about you. I just knew it was important to you, I didn’t want to be completely clueless about it.” 
Alexia shakes her head at you lightly, before kissing you again. It’s not so quick this time, so you don’t need to be as embarrassed about her still leaving you lightheaded and short on breath.  
“You kissed me!” You repeat, a childish grin taking over your face, and she rests her forehead to your shoulder, chuckling at your excited little reaction. “So, you do still like me the same?” You double-check and she lifts her gaze to meet your eyes.  
She cradles your head in her hand, shaking her own lightly back at you as she rubs her thumb over your cheek. “I think I might like you even more.” She tells you. “I wasn’t really sure that would be possible after yesterday.”  
“Really?” 
“Mhmm.”  
“Well ..what else are you into? I can study anything.”  
She giggles at your eagerness before kissing you again. “I’m very into you.” She says, and your eyes light up in front of her.  
“That’s so unbelievably lucky, I know almost everything about her already!”  
“Yeah? Then maybe we’re perfect for each other.” She tells you, with a distinct conviction in her voice that sends that special little thrill running right through your body as she pulls you in for another kiss. 
 
“So ..is that a ‘yes’?” You ask. “To maybe going on a date with me? It’s a bit late now, I know, but we still have tomorrow.” You suggest, beginning to stumble over your words. “I know it’s probably not the smoothest way you’ve ever been asked out. I’m new to this. I’m not very good, but I’ll work on it. I’ll get better.” 
“I think you’re already better than you think you are.” She tells you softly, resting her forehead to yours. “I’d love to go on a date with you.” 
“Even though my head’s a mess and I’m still figuring things out?” 
“Mhmm.” She giggles, gently rolling her bottom lip under her teeth. “I’ll help you figure things out. We’ll work it all out together.” She offers.  
“That could be a lot of work.” 
“I know, and I really think you might be worth it.” She tells you, giving you another gentle kiss. “I’m sorry all of this got to you. I should have told you about it yesterday, but ..I didn’t want to scare you off.” She explains. “I know it can be a lot, I don’t love every part of it..” 
“It’s okay, I don’t think anything could’ve prepared me for it, really. I knew you’d have a lot of fans ..it was just seeing them all. Like this ..Alexia army.” 
“I’m so sorry.” 
“Please don’t be. You have nothing to apologise for.” You reassure her. “Not unless all those other buggers also got their shirts from you?” 
“No,” she chuckles, running her fingers up the front of the fabric on your body, “you’re the only one.” 
“I should probably feel quite special, then.” You wink. “People would kill to be wearing this.” 
“Mhmm. You are special.” She tells you, her fingers trailing the neckline of your shirt. She pulls you back into her, her lips feathering yours. “You’re in my top three for a reason.” 
The barrier’s proving to be a little bit of a pest to the pair of you, what with it being such a hindrance to all of your kissing. After receiving confirmation from Alexia, that no one would attack you for joining her on the grass, you throw her sweatshirt on over your head, and quickly negotiate the railing to be with her. 
It might be your favourite place to be, just melting into her arms as she holds you against her. Even though she’s still a little bit gross from running around for so long, you wouldn’t really swap it for anything.  
Your eyes flick around the stadium as you look over her shoulder. There’s a faded majesty to the arena when it’s empty like this. You’re the only ones still out here and the beauty of the place isn’t lost on you, as you get to share it with Alexia. It feels more special without thousands of other strangers crammed in here with you, it’s like a secret discovery you’ve both stumbled upon. A vast abandoned colosseum, existing just for you two.  
“Does it not freak you out, playing in a place like this?” You ask her. 
“Not really.” She tells you, rather casually, joining you in staring up at the stands.  
“There’s so many eyes watching you.” 
“Mm. You sort of just block it all out.” She says. “You can hear everything, all the chanting and singing, but you don’t really pay too much attention to it. Not until you score, and then again at the end of the game. It isn’t really scary at that point, though. Then it’s just thousands of other people celebrating with you.” 
“You’re quite amazing,” you realise, gently nudging into her, “I think I’d shit myself.” 
She giggles at your blunt confession, intertwining her hand with yours. “I’d probably freak out if I did that in front of everyone.” She admits, kissing your fingers. “That’d be quite hard to live down.” 
“Do you not get nervous at all?” 
“No.” She tells you, simply. “I’ve worked hard for this. I trust myself; I trust the team. Us playing in stadiums like this, in front of crowds like that, it’s what we deserve. It’s what we’ve been doing it all for.” She drops her head momentarily, taking in a breath. “I wasn’t too sure I’d get the chance to play again at all, after..” she gestures loosely down to her leg and stands a little taller as her grip on your hand tightens, “I don’t take it for granted, that I’m able to be here. It’s where I’ve always wanted to be. I’m not going to waste time being scared of it.” 
There’s a different air of confidence to her on the pitch as you watch her. It’s not the same playful cockiness that she so often uses with you. It’s not arrogance, she isn’t being smug. She’s just proud of herself, the journey that she’s been on. She’s proud of where she is, she’s proud of her teammates and she really has every bloody right to be.  
“Are you okay?” She asks, her brow crinkling lightly as she looks to you. “You’re staring.” 
“Sorry. You’re just ..very beautiful.” You shrug, and you can see a small flush of colour settle over her cheeks as she smiles before quickly averting her eyes.  
“You haven’t told me what it is that you do for a living.” She reminds you, shirking the focus away from her as she walks backwards a little ahead of you, pulling you along with her. “We had an agreement.” She reminds you.  
“I think it’s far less exciting than your big reveal.” You warn her. “I’m just in finance ..banking.”  
You offer it with a tone of apology to your voice, which she certainly picks up on as she smiles at you and takes your other hand in hers. “That’s very impressive.” She assures you and a blush spreads across your own cheeks as she interlaces her fingers with yours. “You’re quite clever?”  
“I’m not too bad with numbers.” You chuckle.  
“Do you enjoy it?” She asks, and you nod your head.  
“That must seem ridiculous to you.” 
“Not at all. Are you good at it?” 
“Oof ..I’m not awful.” You smile. “I’ve actually been named ‘Employee of the Year’ on more than two separate occasions.” 
“Have you really?” She giggles.  
“Mhmm. That’s the same as those balloon awards of yours, right?” 
“Mhmm. Yes. Yeah ..I think that’s the exact same thing.” 
She really must like you if she’s willing to lie like that. There is slight tone of sarcasm to her voice, and rightly so. Your sister’s explained to you what a Ballon d’Or is, and Alexia being presented with it, for two years on the trot, is no mean feat. She’s been recognised for being the undisputed best at her profession, globally. You’ve received ‘Employee of the Year’ bonuses because your boss is a filthy pervert with a crush on you. These are not the same things at all.  
It’s very sweet of her to downplay her achievements for you and there’s something about her lack of arrogance with her career that’s very intriguing. She almost minimises her own importance, ignores the significance, and the impact that she’s had on the sport. It’s really just a regular job to her. She’s ‘just’ a footballer.  
She takes genuine pride in it, but she’s not gloating at all, she’s not bragging. Without her fans around her, you really wouldn’t know how big of a sensation she actually is. The fame and accolades really aren’t what she’s done any of this for. She just loves playing the game.  
“You’re staring again.” She points out, kissing your forehead.  
“You’re ..still very beautiful.” You tell her, offering up another shrug in lieu of any better explanation for your continual admiration of her.  
She places a kiss to the back of your hand, and her eyes twinkle over it as she meets your gaze. “We should get out of here.” She tells you. “I need to have a shower, but then we can go.” 
“Do you want me to wait here?” You offer, and she frowns at you in confusion. “So that you don’t have to introduce me to anyone.” You explain, and she giggles, shaking her head.  
“A few of them would probably recognise you.” She says, and a hot flush of embarrassment spreads right through your body.   
“Shit! For being drunk and angry?” 
“Mhmm! And straight.” She reminds you with a wink. “I think they quite like you, don’t worry. Mapi’s definitely a fan already.” 
A small groan falls from your mouth as you remember your rather unfortunate behaviour from that night, and it’s hard not cringe at yourself. It’s amazing you made such a good impression on Alexia, all things considered, but it’s a bit embarrassing to realise there was more than one world-class footballer watching your drunken antics.  
“I’ll have to stay out here.” You grimace. “That’s horrific!” 
“They’re probably already gone!” She giggles. “We’ve been out here for a while.” She places another kiss to your forehead, before walking backwards towards the tunnel holding her hand out for you to join her. “Are you coming?” 
You nod your head at her but make no real effort to move from where you are. “I never thanked you.” You call out to her, and she stills herself, tilting her head.  
“For what?” She chuckles, narrowing her eyes.  
“For saving me that night. From that old man ..I really don’t know where I’d be now if you hadn’t.” 
A grin splits her face, and she doesn’t miss a beat. “Therapy, probably!” She says, and her laugh echoes in the air around you.  
You quickly pull her sweatshirt back up to hide your face under it, shaking your head in shame, because she’s almost certainly right. It would have taken you a very long time to recover from waking up next to him the following morning. You definitely wouldn’t have been going for seconds, thirds and fourths with him all night. He’d have had a heart attack trying to compete with Alexia’s stamina.  
“He was so gross.” She reminds you, pulling the sweatshirt down as she returns to you. “You were very drunk.” 
She pushes the loose hairs back from over your face, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips as she cups your face.  
“I don’t remember you helping me with that.” You point out. “I had more drinks with you than anyone else.” 
“Mm ..I quite liked being inappropriate with you. You were very daring,” she recollects, kissing you again, with her cocky little smile, “you’d already licked most of me before we even left the club!” 
“You started it!” You remind her, and she giggles in front of you.  
“Well, if that was a competition we were having, I think you certainly won!” She admits. “I’m sure abuelo would have enjoyed drinking with you just as much.” 
“Oof. Please don’t.” You mutter, suppressing a gag. “I think I’d have slapped him if he’d tried licking me.” 
Alexia laughs again, lifting your hand to her lips, to place a kiss to the back of it, and she winks at you, before she licks all down it with her tongue.   
“You’re such a child!” You giggle, wiping your hand against your shirt, and she winks at you again. “You could’ve been here with that girl from the toilets.” You point out. “At least she was very pretty.” 
“I know.” She sighs wistfully. “It’s a shame someone stole me from her.” 
“Mmm ..okay.” You mutter, rolling your eyes.  
She shakes her head with a small smirk, taking your hand and pulling you into her before wrapping her arms around your waist. “I’m glad I’m here with you.” She tells you, lightly bumping her nose to yours. “Bit scary of you, though. Following me all the way out here!” 
“I didn’t follow you!” You tell her, removing yourself from her hold. “I barely even remembered you existed before you draped your arm over me in that café.” 
“You’re a terrible liar.” She scoffs. “You even followed us into that toilet.” 
“No, I didn’t!” You chuckle, crossing your arms in front of you as you smile up at her. “You followed me, though. Couldn’t keep you away!” 
“Mm ..maybe I really should’ve stayed with her instead.” 
“Okaay, that’s enough of that. She’s gone now, you missed your chance with her!" 
“Are you still jealous?” She winks, running her hands down your sides before slinking them back around your waist.  
“I wasn’t jealous. She was just ..all over you. In the toilet, of all places! It was very gross of you both, very unsanitary.” 
“Is that why you wanted to interrupt us?” She smirks, tilting her head very close to yours. “Bumped into me to stop me from catching germs? You’re very cute.” 
“That was an accident.” 
“You’re a terrible liar!” She laughs.  
“You were winding me up! Kissing someone else, what were you playing at?” 
“You went to go kiss men!” She points out.  
“I didn’t kiss any of them, though.” 
“It’s not my fault you were unsuccessful!” 
“I wasn’t unsuccessful!” You giggle, pushing her away from you. “I didn’t want to kiss any of them. I had one person on my mind that night, and I was actually very successful in getting her to kiss me ..eventually.” 
“I was on your mind?” She asks, bouncing her eyebrows as she rests her hands on your hips.  
“You’re so annoying, always so cocky.” You roll your eyes, linking your hands behind her neck before pulling her down to kiss you. “Yes. You were on my mind.” You admit, collapsing your head to her chest. “You’re always on my mind. You’re like a bloody broken record in here.” 
She kisses the top of your head, wrapping her arms around your shoulders. “You’re always on my mind too.” She whispers. “I don’t think I’ve really stopped thinking about you at all since I first saw you in that club.” 
“When you shoved that bloody lime in my face?” You mumble against her.  
“I didn’t shove a lime in your face!” She laughs. “I held it for you, I was being helpful.” 
“Mm ..well, then I owe you two lots of thanks.” You realise, lifting your head to meet her eyes. “One for your ..handy little lime assistance, and one for saving me from that ancient creeper. I am genuinely grateful for the second one.” 
“You don’t need to thank me for either of them.” She tells you. “I was being selfish really.” 
It’s difficult to know just how much time you both managed to kill outside, but the dressing room’s completely empty by the time you two make your way through to it. You sit, patting your hands against your thighs, as Alexia goes for her shower, and you try to keep yourself entertained without her.  
There’s a lot of things for you to look at in the room, lots to take in. There’s a history to the stadium, which should be interesting to have a backstage pass to. It’s a privilege, being in here. Legends have roamed these halls, sporting greats from decades past. It’s very exciting for you to be granted access to it, and yet, none of it’s at all fascinating to you when you know there’s a wet, naked lady in the other room.  
You continue drumming out your frustrations as you try to stop yourself from thinking of Alexia in the shower.  
All on her own. In the shower.   
Alone.  
Showering.  
You really just can’t help yourself.  
She doesn’t take too long to return to you and a loud gasp falls from your lips when she re-emerges.  
“¿Qué?” She winks, and the blush doesn’t even have the courtesy of creeping up on you, you’re just immediately bright red.  
“You’re naked.” You inform her, very quietly, in case she hadn’t already realised. 
“Mhmm.” 
“Wow..” You breathe, gritting your teeth as you try to remain calm.
“Oh? That’s so funny. I seem to remember that being the exact same reaction to the one you had last time!” 
“Heh heh heh!” You draw out slowly, rolling your eyes at her unremitting need to be cocky.  
She leans against the wall in front of you, and it really isn’t very easy to maintain eye contact with her when her body’s on full display in front of you. It doesn’t feel like she’s particularly bothered about your wandering eyes, which is really rather lucky, because you’re not exactly doing it with any level of subtlety.  
This isn’t really helping in keeping all of the dirty thoughts that you’ve been having about her at bay. You’re also going to split your lip open if you keep biting down on it as hard as you are. 
She moves towards you steadily, and your heart starts beating in double time. “You’re staring.” She tells you, yet again, and you nod at her very astute observation skills.  
“You ..are ridiculously beautiful.” You point out, struggling to keep your composure as she steps within reaching distance. “You’re also very dry.” You realise with a frown, trapping your hands under your legs. “You’re supposed to be having a shower so that we can get the hell out of here!” 
“Mm.” She hums, hooking a finger under your chin and tilting your head up to face her. “I was wondering if you might want to keep me company?” She says, and you have to gasp again at her very friendly little suggestion.  
“In the shower with you? While you’re naked?” You grin, and she chuckles, nodding her head.  
“Mhmm. I was hoping you might want to get naked too.” 
“Oof. What an incredibly tempting offer.” You admit, bobbing your legs as you wet your lips. “I just need a few minutes to really think about it.” 
“Mm?” She shakes her head and folds her arms. “You have two seconds before I’m revoking.” 
“Two seconds? Do you see what I mean about you being cocky and annoying? You think I fancy you that badly? That I’m that desperate and needy that I’ll just cave as soon as you—” 
“Uno.” 
“I’m in!” You exclaim, jumping to your feet with embarrassing haste. “I’m in I’m in I’m in I’m in I’m in!” You continue mumbling against her lips to make sure that she doesn’t start her unnecessary counting again.  
You make very light work of pulling both layers off over your head in one swift motion, and Alexia looks rather impressed with your efficiency as she drags her thumb down the middle of your torso. She bites her lip with her eyebrow arching slightly, as she takes you in, and you do feel a little bit proud of yourself.  
“I’ve been going to the gym a lot.” You tell her, tensing slightly to show off your progress.  
“I can tell.” She says, running her thumb back up your stomach.  
“Really?” You grin, trying to ignore the goosebumps that have spread over your skin from her touch. “I slept with this girl whose body made me drool.” You admit, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Felt like I was letting the side down a bit, so.” 
“I think you’re beautiful naked.” She tells you, and your heart skips a beat as her eyes darken over you.  
“That’s very crazy! That’s the same thing that she kept saying!” 
“Mm?” She loops a finger through your belt buckle, drawing you in closer to her.  
“It does turn out that she’s a professional athlete, though. So, I might have to just settle for being second best.” 
She chuckles at you, shaking her head. “All this ..is for her benefit?” She asks, leaning into you.  
“Mm. Well ..I wasn’t really sure I’d ever find her again,” you admit, letting out a very cautious exhale, “..but no one else has seen me..”
 
It’s a pointed confession from you, carrying a lot of added weight to it. Neither of you owe each other any loyalty from that night and you’d have no real right to be hurt, if she has explored other options. It’s not a test from you, you know it wouldn’t really change things, you did give it a try yourself, to be with someone else.  
It didn’t feel right to you, when it wasn’t with her, you could barely even flirt with another person, but you can’t really have any negative reaction, if Alexia hasn’t had that same struggle. There’s a morbid curiosity in you, perhaps, given the direction your previous relationship went in, and you can only hope, that she will treat your heart more gently than he did.  
She doesn’t know, that you were cheated on, she wouldn’t know, what her own admission would mean to you. You’re offering yourself up unprotected, to a woman who isn’t aware of the bomb she could be setting off inside your chest. It’s a silent plea from you, that this really has been as all-consuming to her, as it has been to you, and it’s very a big ask of someone, who you’ve only met thrice.  
Her eyes pierce through to your soul, as she studies you, and it’s excruciating, waiting for her to give you something. There’s a clear caution in her, of what she’s about to tell you, and you’re not certain if it’s guilt, or sympathy, or something else entirely.  
“Really?” She asks, and her voice is hoarse, as her eyes narrow at you. You can’t trust yourself with words right now, so you only offer her a silent nod, and there’s a glimmer in her eyes at your promise. She’s tentative, and nervous, and the mystery that once shielded her eyes when you first looked into them, is slowly dissolving in front of you. It isn’t guilt or sympathy that she’s feeling, she’s scared of letting you in.  
It’s not unreasonable for her to have her own concerns, regarding you. You were incredibly pig-headed, about being straight, the night that you first met. You told her your relationship had ended only recently, and then you jumped straight into bed with her.  
She can be certain that you’re attracted to her, you haven’t hidden that very well, but she has no real reason to assume that she isn’t a rebound, or a little sexuality test for you. You’re not the only one putting yourself in a vulnerable position here, she also stands to get hurt from this.  
There’s the slightest hint of a smile on her face, as she accepts that you’re telling her the truth. The subtle confession, that the girl who was so relentlessly hunting for some random male company the night that Alexia first met her, hasn’t been on that same hunt since, clearly means as much to her, as a similar confession would mean to you.  
“I haven’t been with anyone else either.” She tells you, and it breathes life back into your lungs.  
You catch her entirely off guard as you press your lips against hers, but she’s very quick to catch up with you. There’s a distinct desperation in the kiss this time, a fervent hunger. An intense desire to make known how much she means to you, to show her that the small question mark that you have over your sexuality, doesn’t extend to any questions about her. You’re in no doubt of your feelings, you’re very certain of what you want.  
Actions speak louder than words, clearly, and you’re definitely not leaving anything up to speculation. The passion in you continues to build and it’s Alexia who’s left breathless, when you finally pull away. You’ve rendered her speechless, and she blinks hard a few times as she lifts her fingers to her lips, before collecting herself again.  
You’re sporting her smirk as she looks back at you, and she rolls her eyes with a shy smile. “Are you getting naked, or what?” She asks impatiently, and a laugh rings out from inside of you.  
“Oof. I love when you’re romantic with me, baby.” 
This might actually be your favourite place to be. Not the random shower stalls, they’re not particularly important to the rush that’s shooting through you. It’s entirely down to the wet and naked company that you have in here.  
Reacquainting yourself with the curves and the ridges of her body, having her pressed up against you as her hands explore yours. It’s exciting just being back with her, your body’s on fire under her touch, your soul’s been reawakened, and none of the scenarios you kept playing through in your head, could ever really compare to having the real thing in front of you again.  
“Is your leg still sore?” You ask, placing kisses along Alexia’s jawline as she leans her back against the tiles.  
“I’ve already told you, that it’s fi—“ 
“Because I was thinking,” you interrupt, cutting her off with a kiss to her lips, “we should probably take some precautions.” You suggest, and her eyes narrow as she smiles slyly at you. “We wouldn’t want to aggravate it..” 
“Mm.” She nods, trapping her tongue between her teeth. “Are you offering to get down on your knees for me?” She asks you knowingly, tangling her fingers in your hair.  
“Mhmm ..for the good of the team.” You offer, feigning herosim as you kiss along her chest. “For football.” 
“Mm ..well, I did score the winning goal.” She reminds you.  
“Well, exactly, and that deserves to be celebrated.” 
She chuckles, as she pulls you back into her by your neck, catching you a little off guard as her tongue re-enters your mouth. “I really have missed you.” She murmurs against your lips.  
“Mm but like ..as a person,” you check, pulling back slightly, “not just my bloody tongue?” You pout softly up at her as she giggles with a nod. “Because I’m quite nice company for you to have around ..I’m very cute and funny.” 
“You’re adorable and hilarious.” She agrees, running a finger up the middle of your torso. It sends goosebumps all along your body again, which she’s acutely aware of as that smirk is very much back on her face.  
“But in like a sexy way.” You tell her, trying to ignore the heat she’s sent through you, and she continues to nod her head as she bites her lip. “Like a ..'I should take that girl home with me and do dirty things to her' kind of way."
“Is that what you’d like me to do to you?” She asks, with her eyebrow arching.  
“After our shower ..yes please.” 
“Okay.” She promises, tangling her fingers even further as she kisses you. “Then drop to your knees.” She instructs you, and much like a loyal little soldier, you’re very quick to do as you’re told.  
She’s never really been quite so assertive with you, and a mild moan escapes you from it, as you traverse down her body, leaving a trail of kisses as you make your descent. She tightens her grip on you as she tilts your head to look back up at her, sending a dull pleasure running through you, before she guides you to the place where she’s wanting you most.  
It ends up being one of the longest showers of your life, and you’re lucky to be leaving the stadium together before you both get locked inside of it.  
Discussion turns to sleeping arrangements as you walk the length of the parking lot. Neither of you have any intentions of going home without the other, despite the lateness of the hour, and it feels like there’s an obvious choice for where you’ll end up staying. The hotel isn’t the best place for you tonight. The receptionist would undoubtedly recognise the company you’re keeping, and despite Em being out for the night, she isn’t exactly known for hanging around with her lady-friends the morning after.  
You don’t really want to have to kick Alexia out super early, and Em catching the pair of you tangled up in bed together when she gets back, also doesn’t sound ideal.  
“Are you scared of dogs?” Alexia asks as she opens her car door for you.  
“No..” 
“Then we’ll go back to mine.” 
“You told me Nala was a Pomeranian?” 
“She is.” 
“Well ..then even if I was scared of dogs, I probably wouldn’t be afraid of her.” You giggle, placing a kiss to her temple before getting into your seat.  
“I was just checking.” She tells you as she joins you in the car.  
“Is she unfriendly?” 
“No, she is a very good judge of character, though.” She warns, with a smile that’s mildly disconcerting.  
“Oh ..so it’s a red flag if she takes a disliking to me?” 
“Mhmm. I’d have to kick you out!” 
It doesn’t feel like a fully-fledged threat from her, but there is a tone to her voice, that tells you she’s not completely joking either.
She starts up her car and rests her hand on your leg as she sets off from the stadium. Her fingers trace circles on the inside of your thigh and you have to link her hand with yours as she starts trailing up, to stop her from doing too much when the goosebumps quickly form along your skin. 
“I’m sorry,” she offers, “you don’t like it?” 
“I might like it a bit too much.” You chuckle, placing a kiss to the back of her hand, before placing it back in your lap.  
It’s hard to stop your eyes from drooping a little in the car, you really are very exhausted. You rest your head against your seatbelt and dig the nails of your free hand into your leg to try and stop you from falling asleep. You have limited time with Alexia as it is, and you don’t want to miss out on any precious minutes.  
There’s something unfortunately hypnotic about the glow from the streetlamps above you, though, which isn’t super helpful with your plight. The light pulses through the windows as Alexia drives, and you give your head a shake when you find your eyelids getting too heavy.  
“Are you okay?” She asks, a little alarmed at your sudden spasm.  
“Mhmm.” You mumble, stifling a yawn. “I really need you to keep talking to me, please. I don’t want to fall asleep.” 
“What do you want to talk about?” 
“Anything.” 
She stares out at the road in front of her, losing herself in thought for a moment. She raises your hand to her lips to place a lingering kiss to your fingers, and she bops her other hand on the steering wheel.  
“I asked after your initial.” She tells you whimsically, and your face scrunches, not at all following what she means.  
It was a very weird thing for her to say to you, it’s not entirely down to your sleepiness that you didn’t understand.  
“Sorry?” You ask, and her grip on your hand tightens. 
“I was back in London last week ..I went back to that club.” She reveals, and your heart misses a beat as she speaks. “I was hoping, maybe you’d be in there again ..looking for a man.” She rolls her eyes and drums her fingers over the wheel. “I was worried ..that you might have already found one, when you weren’t there.” You place another kiss to the back of her hand, and her fingers twitch as they link through yours. “I think we made a big impression on that bartender.” She giggles.   
“Bless him. We really did put on quite the show.” 
“Mhmm! He was there again, when I went. I asked him about you, and he said he definitely remembered us, but he told me he really had no idea who you were.” A sigh escapes her lips, and she taps at the steering wheel again. “I couldn’t stay in there for very long.” She admits. “It gave me a headache. It was bad enough being in the same hotel. I did have a roommate this time, so ..we really did end up playing cards together, but ..I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Knowing you had to be near, but I’d never be able to find you.” 
“I could’ve gone to that game.” You tell her thoughtfully. You stroke your thumb along the side of her index finger and clench your jaw. “Em invited me, and I told her to bore off.” You explain. “If I’d have had any idea ..I’d have been front row for you. I hate that we missed out on time together.” 
“We’re together now.” She points out quickly.  
“Only until tomorrow night ..then we’re right back where we started.” 
“Not really.” She assures you, giving your hand a squeeze. “We know who we are now. We know where we are, we’ll swap numbers.” 
“And we’ll what, make a proper go of it? With all of these miles between us?” 
Her jaw tightens slightly as she continues staring out in front of her. “If you also want to.” She says softly.  
“I’ve never really loved the idea of doing long-distance.” 
“You don’t think it works?” She asks you, and her voice cracks slightly.  
“I know that it can. It’s just ..not ideal.” You sigh.  
“You’d miss me too much?” She smirks, and you shake your head with a small smile.  
“Maybe.” You admit. “Why’d you have to be bloody Spanish?” 
“You’d prefer me to come from London?” 
“Yes! I mean ..you wouldn’t sound as lovely, but at least you’d be local.” You point out. “It’d be far easier.” 
“Mm.” She mumbles. “Well ..you could have been from Barcelona, that would’ve been helpful.” She pulls the car up outside of her home, and you stare out at it through the window. “Come on.” She tells you, patting your thigh as she opens her door. “We won’t have to worry about any of this if Nala doesn’t like you!” 
Alexia greets you at your side of the car and takes your hand as she leads you to the door. “¡Buena suerte!” She whispers, and you’re not 100% sure what it means, as she gives you a very dramatic look of dread before she pushes through the entrance. 
It feels like she’s really trying to worry you, but it would be very harsh to send you back to your hotel with your tail between your legs because her dog’s barked at a stranger. You’re not exactly Dr Dolittle but are you a fan of animals, and you’d be quite upset yourself if Nala didn’t take a liking to you.  
You’re attacked, as soon as you step through the door. It’s not an uncontrolled ravaging that you receive, Nala certainly isn’t rabid. It’s a very excitable licking that you’re greeted with, it would seem that dogs really are like their owners. It really isn’t the big and scary personality test that Alexia likes to pretend it is at all, but she might have already known it wasn’t going to be a dealbreaker when she pushed you into the house with this vicious scary animal before her.  
“Well, shit.” She sighs, looking down at you as you play with her dog on the floor, and the rare expletive from her mouth rings very cutely in your ears.  
“What?” You giggle, craning your neck to meet her gaze.  
“Now we might have to worry about it.” 
You lift Nala into your arms and rise to your feet. A toothy smile spreads across your face as you move towards Alexia, and there’s a lot of affection for you being carried in her eyes.  
“She quite likes me.” You point out, and Alexia nods her head, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth. “And she doesn’t even know what I’m saying to her.” You place a kiss to the top of Nala’s head. “You might have to teach me some Spanish ..so we can have a proper conversation.” You tell her, bobbing Nala in your arms as you bury your face in her fur. “It’d make my trips out here a bit easier too.” 
Alexia’s eyes widen slightly at your casual words of intent, and she beams at you as you give her dog another kiss. “You do want to give us a go?” She asks.  
“Mhmm. I think I’d be crazy not to.” 
“It could be a lot of work.” She tells you, and you nod, smiling up her. 
“I know ..and I really think you might be worth it.” 
A full smile takes over her face as she quickly takes Nala from your arms and places her back down on the floor, before giving you a quick kiss. She pulls you through with her to let Nala do her business outside, and something shiny on the wall draws your eye. 
“These are all your trophies?”  
“..Some of them.” 
“Blimey!” You chuckle, as you move closer to them all. You keep a small distance, crossing your arms to make sure you don’t accidentally knock anything, and you study one, in particular, that’s caught your attention. “You made my sister cry, when you got this one.” You tell her, pointing to her World Cup medal. “I thought something terrible had happened when she rang me.” 
“I’ll have to apologise to her," she winks, “when we meet.” 
“Mm. You’ll have to apologise for today’s match, too.” You point out with a grin. “You’ve ruined her life a few times, I think.” 
Nala makes her way back inside, brushing against your legs as she scurries off to who knows where, and a finger tapping at your shoulder, distracts you from your perusal of Alexia’s trophy cabinet. She smiles as you turn to face her, and she runs her finger down your nose before giving you a quick kiss. 
“Oh my god!” Escapes your lips in a breathy giggle as Alexia lifts you into her arms and you wrap your legs around her waist. “Hi.” 
“Hi!”  
It’s a passionate kiss that she gives you, and any sense of tiredness that was taking over your body a few minutes ago, is very quickly forgotten as you lose yourself in her.
“I can walk.” You remind her, as she carries you towards her bedroom. 
“I don’t care.” 
You’re almost winded when your back hits the mattress, as she flings you onto it, a little carelessly. You’d probably be more stroppy about it, if she didn’t pull her shirt off before joining you on the bed. She didn’t bother putting a bra on after your shower and you’re very easily distracted.  
It is her actual eyes you find yourself fascinated by this time, though. They really are very beautiful, and there’s far less mystery lingering in them now. It’s tenderness you see in them as she looks over you, silent intimacy, devotion, and the idea of eyes being the window to the soul has never seemed more true to you.  
There’s an honesty in her eyes that far exceeds any words she could ever say to you, but you’re fairly sure you know what she’s thinking. You’re almost certain, in fact, and you feel compelled to confess something to her yourself. 
“You. are. staring. again.” She tells you, punctuating each word with an increasingly deeper kiss.  
“Mhmm.” You concede, and your hands rest on her hips as she smiles down at you. You swallow down carefully as your eyes meet hers, and your heart skips a few more beats. “I really think ..that I might be falling for you.” You profess, and her pupils dilate as she smiles down at you. “Is that ridiculous? To fall for someone so quickly?” 
“I don’t think so.” She says, her brow furrowing slightly. “Sometimes you just know.” 
“Would it be okay ..if I did start falling?” 
“Mhmm.” She runs her finger under your chin, rubbing her thumb over your bottom lip, before leaning herself down over you. “I’m falling for you, too.” She tells you, before pulling you into her by your neck.  
It’s different, from the sex you’ve had with other people before, being with Alexia. It never seems to be quick, and it doesn’t feel one-sided. You’re not left wanting after it, it isn’t unfulfilling. There's a continual desperate desire in you, to have her be with you, and to make sure that she’s also feeling good. It’s not a chore, and it isn’t something that she’s demanding from you.  
There’s passion between you, affection, and it’s an equal offering from you both. It’s exciting, it’s fun, and it puts all your past experiences to shame. There’s an innocence in your enjoyment of each other, it really isn’t just a physical act between the two of you. It’s a bearing of your soul to each other, every time, and it’s no wonder at all, that you’re falling as quickly as you are. 
There’s far more confidence in you now. You’re not having to follow Alexia’s lead quite so much. You know her body, what she likes you doing to it, and you savour every second of having her back under you. Every whimper and moan that you’re able to coax from her, how she feels around you, the taste of her on your tongue. Having her able to cry out your actual name this evening, has also set your soul on fire. Hearing it echo around in the showers, having her moan it like a quiet secret into your ear, as she grips at the sheets beneath her. 
Alexia does have you entirely at her mercy when she chooses to take back control, and whether she really did appreciate you being so selfless by caring about her injury in the shower, or the fact that Nala took to you quite so quickly, you can’t be certain, but you’ve definitely done something to have her wanting to treat you extra nicely, before you remind her that she doesn’t need to be quite so gentle with you.  
This isn’t your first time; you’re very much wanting her to have her wicked way with you. 
It satisfies the burning inside of you, completely, satiating your hunger, and happily leaving you a little worn out after everything. She’s in a similar state of exhaustion, panting when she collapses back down onto you. So, you can probably give yourself a little pat on the back for your own efforts with her.  
“Are you okay?” She checks with you, as you try to steady your breathing. She places a kiss to your neck in such a way, that you know she’s leaving another mark that you’ll need to cover up, and you run your fingers down her sides.   
“Mhmm ..I think you’ve wiped me out.” You admit, lazily kissing along her shoulder.   
“I think you’ve done the same!” She tells you, chuckling, as she rubs her thumb over your neck, admiring the new bruise that she’s decorated you with.  
She watches over you for a moment, and you raise your fingers to your face.  
“Do I have something on me?” 
“No..” 
“Well ..now you’re staring.” 
“Mhmm.”  
“Are you okay?” 
“Do you want children?” She asks you, rather abruptly, and you have to chuckle at the timing of her question.  
“What?” 
“Children.” She repeats.  
“..I don’t know what the Spanish education system has taught you, Ale ..but what we just did to each other ..isn’t resulting in any babies.” 
“Idiota,” she chuckles, “but do you want them?” 
“I don’t want you to go out stealing any.” 
“Y/N!” She giggles, holding herself up over you. “I’m being serious.” 
She shakes her head at you, and you grin up at her. “I think I do, yeah. Eventually, with the right person.” 
A faint smile spreads over her face and she leans down for a kiss.  
“Do you?” You question, and she nods her head, before kissing you again.  
“Two.” She tells you. “One of each. A girl first.” 
“I’ve always thought I’d have a girl first.” You admit. “Though ..I figured I’d just have two girls ..a little boy would be cute.” 
“Mhmm!” She hums against you, linking her hands with yours as she pushes herself back up.  
“That's a very intense question,” you point out, “before we’ve even been on our first date. I should be running for the hills.” 
“Do you want to?” 
“No,” you admit, “but you’ve got me picturing a family with you, and we’ve only hung out three times!” 
“Is that what we’re doing?” She questions with a smile. “We’re hanging out?” 
“What would you call it?” You ask her, and her eyes glitter above you.  
“I don’t know,” she says, “but I don’t hang out with anyone else like this.” 
“That’s a relief!” You chuckle, and she bites her lip as she shakes her head again.
“I think I want to be doing more than just hanging out with you.” She tells you, and a small smirk pulls at your lips.  
“Well ..if our date goes well tomorrow, and we keep agreeing to meet up and go out with each other. Then ..we’d probably be dating.” 
“Would that scare you, dating a woman?” 
“Not when the woman’s you. I don’t think I’d ever shut up bragging about it.” 
“That’s a lot of pressure on you, then.” She points out with a smile. “To make sure our first date goes well.” 
“I know, and I don’t know Barcelona very well.” You remind her. “I wouldn’t know where I can take you, where you won’t get papped.” 
She nods in understanding and leans down for a kiss. “Then, will you go on a date with me?” She asks, with a very knowing smile. “I can arrange our Barcelona dates, if you sort the ones in London.” 
She holds out her pinky in front of you, for you to solidify your promise with her, and you place a kiss to your linked fingers, before losing yourself in her eyes again. “Deal.” You tell her softly, and a thrill flows right through your body as she collapses back down onto you.  
It stirs in your head, as you realise that this is what it should actually feel like to be with someone. An excitement inside of you when you know you’re about to see them. A constant wish to be near to them, a genuine enjoyment of their company. A want to share your life with them, to talk about a future together without a sense of fear, or dread about it.  
It’s what you could have gone on to miss out on, for your whole life, without her.  
There’s a comfort in you, when you’re with her, a lazy pleasure in having her body resting on top of yours. The way her fingers trace over your every curve, how her lips light tiny fires on your skin. Each caressing touch from her is one that you crave. Every kiss, the way she laughs. Her relentless teasing, her continual cockiness.  
It’s all something you want no other person to be lucky enough to experience the way that you’ve been able to. It’s all what combines together to make up Alexia. You want her, completely. Body and soul.
And it hits you, like a hammer to the chest. 
You’re already in love with this woman.  
“Are you okay?” She asks. “Your heart’s beating very quickly.” 
“Mhmm ..I’m fine.” 
She props herself up on her elbows over you and tilts her head with a raised eyebrow. 
“I’m a terrible liar?” You realise, and she softly nods her head. 
“You can talk to me.”  
“I know, I just ..I’m just going to miss you, after tomorrow.” 
“We can’t do that to ourselves.” She tells you quickly. “We still have the whole day to spend together.” 
“I know, I just—” 
She mutes you with a kiss and shakes her head. “No.” She says. “We’re not doing that. We can worry about it later. I’m taking you out tomorrow. You can’t go into our first date feeling miserable, the rest of our dates rest on the success of this one. You go into this date worrying about saying goodbye, we’ll never have any other da—” 
You cut her off this time.
It seemed like she was really about to start spiralling almost as pathetically as you have been doing all day. What a pair of losers you are together. Maybe you are perfect for each other. 
“Okay.” You tell her, nodding as you wipe a tear from the corner of her eye. “Okay, I’m sorry.” 
“We have one more day together,” she whispers, “we’re not wasting it being sad.” 
It’s an unfortunate curiosity, that sleep has been so hard for you to come by when you’ve been so desperate for it, and now, it’s threatening to steal you away when you fancy nothing more than staying awake forever. You don’t want to go to sleep, but a yawn that you’re not quite quick enough to stifle, lets Alexia know that you’re struggling a little to stay up with her.  
“Shit.” You mutter, throwing your arm over your face. “You caught that didn’t you?” 
“Mhmm. You can go to sleep.” She assures you, but you shake your head with a petulant pout.  
“I’m not tired.” You tell her, and she giggles, placing a kiss to your forehead before rolling off the side of you.  
“You really are a terrible liar.” She says, opening her arms to welcome you into her, and you don’t waste much time nestling yourself in her embrace.  
“I don’t want to sleep.” You admit to her chest, and she runs her fingers through your hair. “Not while I’m with you.” 
“I’ll still be here when you wake up.” 
“You’d better be.” You tell her. 
She throws her leg over your hip, drawing you in even closer to her, and you run your fingers up her thigh. 
“Are you quite comfy?”
“Mhmm! I’m not having you roll away from me again in the morning.” 
“I really wouldn’t want to.” You murmur, placing a kiss to her chest, as you snuggle closer against her.  
“Well, now you can’t!” She tells you. “I have very strong legs.” 
“I know, you do.” You chuckle sleepily. “I’ve had them clamped around my head a few times.” 
Another small yawn escapes you as you close your eyes, finally accepting defeat, and you place another lazy kiss to her chest as you begin drifting off.  
“Te quiero, Y/N.” Alexia whispers. “Dulces sueños.” 
“You sound really very lovely ..and I’m really bloody sorry ..but I don’t know what you’re saying to me.” You remind her, and you can feel her nodding her head gently. 
“Sweet dreams.” She translates, tightening her arms around you, as you struggle to stifle yet another little yawn.  
“Sweet dreams, Ale.” You manage to mumble in reply, before sleep fully consumes you, and you’re finally able to rest.
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I was suddebly seized by an idea so consider an au where Cass, newly freed from her father, goes to live in Drake Manor. She stays in the attic, Tim brings her food when he can, and it takes Janet and Jack six months to notice she's there. Janet names her after the oracle from the iliad (since Tim tried to tell them and they didn't listen), and from that point on the drakes act as if they've always had twins. Oh, you've met Cassandra before, at the Spring Social! Our children are delightful, we love them both so much! What's that? No, they've always been twins, you must have forgotten.
I don't know if they'd be co-Robins or if they'd keep their canon identities, but I think it'd be funny to see just how much more unhinged they'd get if they were siblings earlier.
Bonus points if they both pine after the same people at the same time
Bruce gets back from a “vacation” (Justice League mission) and his neighbors have twins that everyone seems to be under the impression they’ve always had. Cue Bruce frantically going through time travel and alternate universe protocols because he could swear they just had one kid before. Jason and Alfred (who were at home the entire time and know that the second kid just kind of showed up) do nothing as they wait for the World’s Greatest Detective to figure out what actually happened. Jason gets forcibly adopted by Cass while Tim full body vibrates in the background (and Jason doesn’t die). Dick shows up one afternoon and immediately has Questions. Steph is suddenly there.
Jack and Janet Drake: Ah yes, our perfect little angels.
Tim and Cass: *blowing up Penguin’s warehouse across town*
Bruce: *is stressed*
Jason, sneaking them more charges from the Batcave: I’m an amazing big brother
Damian arrives. Dick thinks he might get a normal little sibling now. Damian pulls out a sword. Cass prevents him from stabbing Tim. Dick sighs but takes Damian to the mats and begins teaching him acrobatics because at least *someone* is interested.
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night-dazai · 7 months
Note
Hi !! i got this idea while looking at a picture of dazai, i suggest you a pm dazai x reader x ada dazai smut 👀👀 i'm hungry for dazai 😭 please can you write me one? 🙏🙏🙏
Hey all I am sorry that I have not been posting for a week, college is too rough on me I have nothing done I am sorry😭😭😭 I will update all requests soon and the box is always open for more spice!
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Tags: threesome, ass and pussy fucking, female reader, slapping, nipple play, rough sex, creampies .not proofread
SLAP! Your ass throbbed with pain and pleasure as both of them riled into your cunt and mouth “Bella ~~” one moaned out while the other grabbed your breasts harshly while calling you a whore. It has been hours you were sure but not one of them had any intentions of stopping “pls.. I cannot “ you whined when one took his dick out of your mouth only to get another harsh slap across your ass and a mean hard thrust “ shut it “ one said while the other kissed your passionately “ one more love ~”. His smooth voice wanted you to do more for him but the other made sure you did more for him little did you know they were opposites but one thing they had in common was that not one of them was stopping anytime soon “ Dazai ~~” your moan was horse and rough due to your overused vocals “ yes love/slut” both answers moving their hair from their face. 
FEW HOURS BEFORE : 
“This is a fucking time travel machine !!!” you shouted to your boyfriend, you both were supposed to find the criminal who stole the machine, arrest him and destroy the machine. “Not use it to go to the past !” you shouted while your lover was too excited looking at his surroundings “It sure is the past !” he exclaimed clapping his hands together like a happy kid. You wanted to punch the life out of this man but you could not plus just 24 hours after that you guys will automatically go back to the future or your present. 
For one hour both of you walked the streets of Yokohama seeing your past “That shop “ you said pointing at a candy shop. Dazai giggled “Yeah, after each mission, I would go there right ? Why not get some candy now ?” he asked. Both of you entered the tiny box-like shop but stopped dead in your tracks seeing a brown-haired in a black coat biting his nails instead of the food . “thaa…” you stammered while Dazai smiled but it was a sad one, before any one of you could act you already made eye contact with him “Port mafia executive Osamu Dazai “ you mumbled holding your lover's hands tightly. 
You did not know if it was excitement or what “Hi!” your lover said walking towards the confused-looking younger Dazai. He looked at Dazai for one second turned his head towards you and kept staring “That's rude “ you said smiling. “Marry me “ was all the younger Dazai said making your lover laugh “Yeah only after a few years, still I am yet to go there but we can get there, “ he said. 
Everyone in the shop was curious as to the twin-looking people but the executive seemed to be a bit too calm “Explanation? Ability?” he asked calmly. Dazai explained the whole situation but left out important parts like how he no longer was a pm member. You thought he would think you guys were lying but for some reason, the Dazai and Dazai had some weird way of communicating.
After listening to your lover he rubbed his chin processing the information going through his head “So, you are the future me, this girl is our lover and she is an ordinary citizen (which is a lie your lover told him for safety “). And now you are stuck here for 24 hours ?” “More like 22 or 21 hours “ you corrected putting your tea cup down “Wanna spend time together ?” you asked. 
You knew Dazai from his mafia days, you were following him ( you were a detective in ADA ) but little did you expect to fall for him and seeing his younger self made you want to know him as a person and not some living person you read from a file. 
The Executive gave you one more weird look “ wanna go to my house ?” he asked. Dazai went quiet for one moment and then agreed, you had just decided to follow them both for the day and that's how you ended up in his house, stuck between both of them as you guys watched “TV “.
Both of them squeezed you as you sat with tense muscles when you felt a hand on each of your thighs, confused you looked at both trying to remove it but they didn't budge “ Dazai …???” “Why not have some fun with me ?” the executive asked smirk plastered on his face “Well you can never be as good as me, “ Dazai said squeezing you and making you shut and open your eyes “Then Why not find out “ the younger Dazai felt challenged and you could feel the cold air but you seemed to have no say plus both are your lover right ?? (you were confused ).
That's how you ended up on the large queen size bed of the mafia executive while your lover lay on it calling you to lie on his chest “I am removing them “ the executive said pulling your jeans in one pull and dragging your panties halfway done while the other kissed you making you look at him. 
“This is something new for you right ..so wet “ he said licking your juices. That's when reality hit you “What were you doing ?!!! Your lover is okay with this ??” but you could not think or talk as a whimper escaped your mouth feeling the executive move his tongue in your cunt while your lover had your top naked making you completely naked. 
“Bella~~~” he moaned pinching and twisting your nipples leaving hot wet kisses down your neck and back. Shivering you held the hair of the executive “Slow” you said as his to slow his mean pace of tongue. 
Not did you unknowingly encourage him to go faster he had you cumming 4 mins after you said that and it was a strong orgasm. Your lover laid you down on the bed and switched positions with his past self, positing at your wet throbbing cunt “In love “ voice dripping with lust he moved his entire length in. 
Breathing hard and whimpering you moved to his thrust when you felt a hand on your jaw “Put this to use love “ the mafia said shoving it and making you choke. It was hard and rough the way both of them handled you but also felt similar and … good….
Your jaw hurts and you have cum 3 or 4 times your hazy did not know “Come on the move “ your lover hissed slapping your thighs as you stopped shaking your hips to match his rough, up shots “Can… can't” you thought crying tears which mixed with your drool and cum dripping from your jaw as the mafia executive kept abusing your poor mouth. 
“ You can and will “ the executive said one last time holding your jaw tighter and shooting in your mouth for the nth time. As he pulled out your lover pulled out of your cunt, both holes leaked white cum of his and yours mixed cum and drool and juices. 
It was nasty and wet but satisfying “Switch?” the mafia Dazai asked as your lover agreed and then again you were on all fours as they did the same after cleaning their cum from both holes. Your eyes were rolling to the back of your head when you suddenly noticed the mirror next to you. You could see yourself getting fucked at both ends, embarrassment flooded your mind and your body reacted “Don't tighten suddenly you slut “The mafia Dazai slapped your ass making you jerk from the reaction. 
The look in his eyes is animal-looking and soo predatorial, unlike your sweet lover. Noticing the path of your eyes was not to the liking of your lover who pulled his dick out of your mouth “Eyes on me Bella “ his voice was firm and stern but still warm unlike the person fucking your cunt. 
He suddenly kissed you, it was rougher than before and more harsh grip on your chin. ADA Dazai stared at PM Dazai “Oh… I see “ the executive said giving more mean thrusts making you jerk up and fall off your hands landing on your lover's lap crying and holding his thighs “ suck me off “ he ordered eyes not on you but the man fucking you. 
It felt hot, your sweet lover who had a rough fucking style was always still warm to you but suddenly became 100 times hotter as you got fucked by his past self. You eagerly sucked his tip massaging his balls while he put his head back “Yeah deeper “ he ordered pushing you a little deeper. 
Time flew like a second and you had cum thrice on both their cocks while they still seemed to have enough energy to ravishingly enjoy you two more times “Please…..no more” you begged but they were having none of that. Both were focused on giving you pleasure more than the other when suddenly one of them would make you look into the mirror and spread your pussy opening it with his fingers as his cock was in “See… see how this slutty hole is sucking me in “.
As you turned your head to stop looking from the view your lover would have your mouth used again and again as he played with your nipples like they were a toy. 
Suddenly your lover pulled you up your back in his chest as he positioned his dick at your asshole while the other Dazai got in front of your cunt “I heard this feels too good” he said and both entered you at the same time forcing you to see your fucked out messy face in the mirror asking you “ who is better ?” 
HOURS LATER : 
Kunikada sat with the most worried expression on his face you sat down panting while your lover just sat next to you smiling “Are you alright ?” he asked rubbing your back you would flinch making the blonde look at you more worried but he removed his hand. 
Yosano smiled and patted your head “ wanna rest in the office “ she offered as you nodded weakly and walked up with her help. “ Get lost “You slapped your lover's hand when he offered but he smiled and just watched you walk limping “What happened “ the blonde asked again “Nothing…..she just met me again for the very first time “ he said smiling a bit weird. 
“Dazai have you gotten a bit shorter ?” Kunida asked suddenly asking him to look at him for the first time after getting back from the past “No..why ?” Dazai asked but the blonde was gone when his phone rang “How is she ?” the caller asked “A little better but I think we should go easy on her “ the smile still plastered on his face “You should have gone easy on her “You lover shouted hanging up “ well maybe …next time “ 
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greenfiend · 2 months
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i just read your time travel theory and all i keep thinking about is how in back to the future 2 marty and doc travel to the future and biff finds the time machine and works it in his favor so when marty and doc travel back to present time everything is wrong and they have to travel all the way to the beginning. have you had any thoughts on such a twist? (by the way i love all your theories and you blow my mind with every single one)
Short answer: a big huge YES!!!!!!
I actually allude to this idea in this post!
I believe that we have already seen aspects of the show inspired by Back to the Future Part II.
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For example: newspapers indicating different timelines. Just one example is the differences between the Will articles… the Henry-Edward Creel articles are another major example of this. -> click here for info on that. Credit to @aemiron-main for these amazing finds.
Another one is the Dustin and Mike walkie-talkie scene- it’s a reference to the first sequel of BttF (since it was the only one of the movies where they used walkie-talkies!).
Now for some stuff I think we WILL see referenced from the movie…
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Now, I believe it’s very telling that they put “William” rather than “Billy” on the gravestone and that they played the song “Dear Willy” in the background of this scene. They are obviously alluding to the other William here as well, and possibly to a separate timeline where he died on November 6th, 1983. Not unlike how George Mcfly was murdered in the alternate 1985 in Back to the Future part II.
If true, then I’m even more inclined to believe that Lonnie is the #1 suspect. Lonnie being our Biff… and possible step father to Will…
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Look at their similarities… “[He] always did have a way with women.” 🤢
Then, of course, we must have a scene like this one.
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The alternate timeline!!! There’s absolutely at least one of these, possibly more. For this scene, I like to envision Dustin being the one to explain this to everyone.
Now for my favourite idea…
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Our characters travelling back to a previous moment within the show! Ah… movie magic. I cannot tell you how much I love this concept. Blew my mind as a child. Look at how the events of the first Back to the Future movie were occurring as a second Marty was on a separate mission desperately avoiding detection from his past self. Time travel can be confusing as heck but damn it’s fun.
I will say that I do not think time travel within Stranger Things will occur in the same way as it does in Back to the Future. It’ll be different somehow. I mention a pretty *wild* idea here.
Now. Here are some things I’m nearly confident about:
Will will (or has) travelled to the past. SO much evidence of this, it’s nearly undeniable.
Mike *somehow* is their “ride” back in time. This is heavily implied when Dustin calls up Mike for a “ride” while the DeLorean is shown on the big screen.
Multiple timelines exist, and we will likely see them or at least learn about them.
Vecna, Mike, and Will are the characters most associated with time and time travel.
Ahhh I love time travel and Back to the Future. The Duffers clearly do too! Back to the Future has been referenced since episode one when we first saw Will in that classic red “life preserver”. The references go deeper than most people realize too. I gotta say too, the whole play being set in the 50s, with the parents as teens, is very reminiscent of Back to the Future as well!
I would not be surprised at all if they referenced this classic sequel a fair bit in the final season!
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violetmuses · 3 months
Text
All Eyes On You - A. Aretas🫂❤️
Title: All Eyes On You - A. Aretas 🫂❤️
Fandom: “Bad Boys” Universe 
Character: Armando Aretas 
Pairing: Armando Aretas + Burnett!Female Reader 
Main Storyline: When Detective Marcus Burnett has company at work, Armando notices.  
Author’s Note: Here's another request. Enjoy! 💜 @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful
=====
2024
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“I'll see you in a minute, alright? I love you too. Bye.” Detective Marcus Burnett hangs up this phone call after speaking with his daughter. 
“That's Megan?” Longtime partner Mike Lowrey chimed with Burnett, nosey. 
“Uh-uh. Her sister.” Burnett jokingly sighed for a second. “She decided to visit us again.” 
“Here we go.” Mike acknowledged tropical snapshots that framed near the cubicle. 
“What the hell are you talking about?” Marcus shook his head. 
“Whatever.” Mike laughs while stepping from Marcus, yet briefly makes eye contact with his son Armando. “Don't act up.” 
“What?” Armando seemed genuinely confused right now. 
“Don't act up. Mike warned again. “Someone's visiting today.”
“What's the big deal?” Armando would keep shrugging.  
“All right.” Mike then raised his brow toward Armando. “I had warnings, but don't cry to me when Marcus hunts you down for messing with his daughter.” 
“Why would I…” Armando stopped debating once you entered the precinct. 
_____
Fixing posture in his chair, Aretas turned silent, observing when Marcus greeted you. 
“You actually made some time to see your old man.” Marcus spoke. 
“God, stop it, Dad!” You laugh while hugging Burnett. 
“Where's my niece?” Mike yelled through his cheerful announcement. 
“Right here! Hey, Uncle Mike.” You waved toward Mike Lowrey with the biggest smile on face now. 
“You're just showing off, huh?” Mike continued raving about your accomplishments. “Got a masters degree, too. How was your trip?” 
“Great! Wanna see photos?” You recently traveled abroad. 
Mike huddled with you and Marcus. Pictures tapped this beachfront collection on your phone. 
“Nice. Let me introduce the team real quick and we'll go to lunch with your uncle, okay?” Your father Marcus worked out his tour guide spiel. 
“Sounds good.” You beamed while heading toward another end of this large precinct. 
Just when Mike turns the corner, he glances toward Armando. 
“C'mon.” Lowrey gestured for his son to leave the desk. 
“Are you sure?” Aretas nearly whispered to his biological father. 
“Might as well rip off our bandaid.” Mike told the truth. 
Damn, good point. Armando thought. 
_____
The AMMO team welcomed you with open arms, despite this short visit to Miami.  
“Kelly handles weapons, Dorn boots tech shit, and Rita isn't here, but she leads the whole squad from a separate office.” Pointing around the room, your father Marcus introduced comrades. 
Kelly and Dorn greeted you as their voices resounded this wing. 
“Hey, um. Can we talk?” Uncle Mike lifted his finger and you noticed him 
“Is everything okay?” You questioned one of your favorite people on Earth. Mike always made you laugh growing up. Even Marcus stepped nearby.
“Couldn't really talk about this when you were little, but long story short, I have a son.” Uncle Mike revealed his truth. 
“What?” You whispered toward Uncle Mike and your father Marcus nodded with confirmation. 
“Yeah.” Uncle Mike noted the worried lump found in his throat. 
“What happened, where is he?” You offered genuine concern. 
“Right here. Pulled strings to help out and now works for us.” Uncle Mike stepped back while introducing you to his son. “That's Armando.”
“Oh, wow. Hi.” You knew better to ruin this moment and shook Armando's hand. 
“Hey.” His slightly accented English caught your attention. “Nice sunglasses.”
“Thanks.” You accepted his compliment and played along to ease tension.  
“You're welcome.” Armando barely smiled in return, still not flirting with you. 
“Let's get something to eat. I'm starving.” Uncle Mike spoke up and you quietly invited Armando. 
_____
This group of four joined one local restaurant and Armando sat right next to you, protective near the front door. 
“They're not fighting each other, only talking. It's a miracle.” Your father Marcus jokes about you and this unexpected guy. 
“Why would I fight with Armando?” You questioned Marcus. 
“On rough days, he's stubborn just like your uncle.” Burnett continues. 
“Uh-oh. What happened?” You chuckled and wanted to learn details. 
“Telling us what to do, not listening, acting like the boss. Our list takes forever.” Your father Marcus counted. 
“Got an attitude from me.” Uncle Mike offered his thoughts once more. 
“Looks came from my mother.” Armando pulled this sly gesture and looked toward you. 
“Did you just call me ugly?” Uncle Mike scrunched up his face while glancing toward Armando.
“Oh my God, Dad!” Even you laughed out loud with Marcus. 
Armando smirked and paid the bill, guiding everyone out of this restaurant. 
Sooner than later, you traded phone numbers with Armando and returned to Miami for good. 
Home, sweet home. 
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chuuyrr · 1 year
Note
Hiii I really love your scarlet Witch series!!, can I request teen fushiguro scarlet witch reader and shinya meet twin black?, it’s up to you how they meet!!😁
twin red meets double black
jujutsu kaisen x reader x bungo stray dogs | series masterlist
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✧˖ ° CW(s): f! reader, mostly bsd, might contain possible spoilers for both bsd and jjk, and said partner is my jjk oc.
✧˖ ° PAIRING(s): jujutsu kaisen, bungo stray dogs (platonic)
✧˖ ° SYNOPSIS: in which you, the adolescent, adopted child of gojo satoru, who also happens to be the scarlet witch, sees double black once more and they meet your partner.
✧˖ ° SETTING: in a world where curses and jujutsu sorcerers meet gifted ability users given your ability as a scarlet witch! variant who's capable of traveling across the multiverse.
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time works in a unique way across the multiverse, and it's been a long while since dazai osamu, your dazai-nii, had seen you.
your visits to their world of gifted mafiosos and detectives have decreased, and he can't help but wonder you had forgotten about him. that being said, dazai has to remind himself that you constantly grow and that you have a life of your own, and the previous visit consisted of you telling him that he was starting high school.
you didn't belong in their world. you belonged from a cursed land full of jujutsu sorcerers, but that was until you came around for what seemed like forever.
dazai couldn't be more happier to see the familiar red psionics you possessed rip through the seams of their reality, even if he and chuuya just had dealt with something that needed their partnership again.
"[name]-chan!" cried out dazai with a happy smile, approaching the red psionics only to realize.. something very different about you.
you were more taller than you were during your last visit. you were also no longer wearing your highschool uniform, but instead a scarlet uniform, one that consisted of a cropped asymmetrical leather red jacket, a black blouse as your inner with black wristers and boots.
you even had accessories of rings and necklaces. seeing you somehow reminded dazai of how chuuya looked like he was when he was fifteen—lots of red, black, and leather.
as you entered to their seams of reality, dazai and chuuya stared at you, almost in disbelief.
"dazai-nii-san! chuuya-nii-san! it's been a long while," you greeted them with a polite and warm smile, running up to them to give them friendly, warm hugs, to which you noted was a little tight, especially when dazai hugged you.
"yes, it has, [name]-chan~ you're taller now! at this rate you're going to be taller than chuuya," dazai immediately changed his facade as he smiled down at you and gave you a headpat.
"shut up, mackerel!" scoffed chuuya at dazai before he smiled down at you, "anyway, i see you've also changed your style kid. not bad. have you been doing well?"
"i'm doing just fine. i actually stopped going to high school," you explained to them as you pulled away from them and walked towards your partner whom they were feeling protective towards you of, "and i have decided to follow the footsteps of my dad and older brother. i am also a special grade jujutsu sorcerer now."
"is that so? my, my, you've truly grown up, [name]-chan! say, what are you doing here?" dazai asked, looking at you with a smile.
"oh, well, nothing really. i just wanted to visit you guys again since i haven't been able and shinya wanted to see for himself where have i been disappearing off to," you explained with a soft chuckle escaping your lips, "i have just finished a mission too."
"a special grade curse? special grade? then that means you've reached your old man's level.." chuuya repeated before his eyes widened.
"i'm not a child anymore, chuuya-nii-san," you stated, still smiling.
"waaaah! our [name]-chan is no longer a baby, chuuya! just look at her!" dazai cried out, dramatically flinging his arms around you, which greatly reminded you of your dad when you were about to go on your first assignment.
however, your reunion with your older brother figures was cut off short when you felt a disturbance in the air.
dazai immediately released you from his hold when he felt you tense up while chuuya gave you an odd look. you immediately put up a red force-field using your chaos magic, just in time the ground trembled and large branches and vines sprouted to attack the three of you.
"what the fuck?!" chuuya yelled out in surprise.
"a special grade curse, made it here? it must have followed me in secret when i came here," you murmured softly, narrowing your eyes.
as you dispersed the red force-field made out of psionics, you gasped sharply when another large vine aimed towards you at breakneck speed, sending you flying past dazai and chuuya who yelled at you in concern.
the former twin black looked at their surroundings to see more of those large branches and vines spreading throughout the city and causing chaos as the ground trembled. chuuya scoffed at the sight and pulled out his phone, which was ringing, only to hear about the situation.
"whatever this curse is. it's taking over the city," chuuya exclaimed to dazai as he gripped his phone.
"[name]-chan!" dazai called for you in the midst of debris and smoke.
and just as he and chuuya were about to approach you, you had flown out of the building you were sent flying to unharmed and immediately began to throwing hexes at the large vines and branches that were onto you.
"i've got this, dazai-nii-san, chuuya-nii-san!" you said, but the flurry of large vines and branches was too much that it was quite overwhelming.
"fuck it, i'm calling for back up. [name] can't do this alone," chuuya dials and puts his phone to his ear again.
dazai had also done the same. but then just as he and his former twin black partner did, they felt their hearts drop when you got hit hard in mid-air by a large vine and branch that threw you off.
and now, dazai, chuuya, and the rest of the armed detective agency and port mafia were stunned as a flash of red stormed towards your falling figure.
everyone screamed for you in concern, thinking that the special grade curse that had escaped into their world attacked you.
but as the smoke cleared out, they realized the debris and smoke were glowing red, and there you were—there was a silhouette carrying your figure bridal style.
"it's.. gravity control.." chuuya muttered in realization.
standing there in the middle of the crater was a tall man with a lean build. he has long, dark messy hair that is usually tied in a half-up, half-do hairstyle, gray eyes, and a mole just below his lips.
he wore nearly the same uniform as okkotsu yuuta, but instead of a white asymmetrical jacket, he has a white button up, and has an oversized dark-blue jacket hanging over his shoulders.
you looked up at the figure carrying you, your eyes widening in awe as you clutched your injured side, "shinya?"
he stared down at you for a second, blinking quietly before a nerve comically protruded on his temple as he growled, "who else would i be?!"
with that, shinya lifted a hand and quickly flicked your forehead, causing you to yelp and thrash in his hold as he gave you a scolding, "just what the hell were you doing, huh? disappearing off like that without a trace, i literally thought you died!"
"ow! that hurts you, jerk!" you then proceeded to yank his hair with your free hand as he pushed your forehead to retaliate against your action while he carried you bridal-style, "i'm sorry, ok?! and i'm trying to patch myself up!"
"sorry?! i was worried sick, idiot! how the hell was i supposed to face gojo-sensei knowing that i lost sight of his kid!"
"i know that, but it's not my fault! my chaos magic just suddenly yeeted me out of our world and brought me here!"
"oh, i don't know.. maybe you could have at least called your partner about you getting yeeted into another universe?!"
everyone watched wordlessly as you bickered with the person they now knew as shinya.
atsushi's eyes widened at the realization, "this is [name]-chan's partner?!"
dazai found himself glancing at chuuya who was as visibly stunned as him. this scene of you and shinya together reminded them of two people they knew all too well, and they were speechless.
it was like seeing their younger selves again, back in the mafia wherein they were still known as twin black.
you two proceeded to argue, blatantly ignoring the armed detective agency and port mafia that was staring at you and shinya, and merely stopped when enormous branches and vines sprouted from the ground and aimed towards you two.
"[NAME]!!" atsushi, dazai, and the others cried out for you in concern.
shinya leapt in the air, still carrying you, dodging the attack as you extended your hand, shooting down the branches with your red psionics.
shinya's feet planted hard back on the ground, creating a crater, as your multiple hex blasts disintegrated the branches and vines and you simultaneously stitched yourself up at a molecular level.
you got off shinya's arms and stood back on your feet, smirking a bit as you grasped his shoulder, "you have my thanks for that, shin."
"ever the egoist like your old man," shinya playfully scoffed at you, patting your hand that was gripping his shoulder, "but what can i say? the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree."
dazai looked at shinya expectantly, knowing who he was referring to. gojo satoru.
you both returned your gazes towards the special grade curse who evidently agitated and surprised all the same, clearly not expecting shinya to have come here as well.
the gifted ability users of both detectives and mafiosos felt as if they were seeing two respective pairs when you twisted your hand ever so gently, conjuring a ball of red psionics while your partner snapped his fingers, making himself glow red as you both began to approach the special grade curse.
partners. that was what you two were.
just like how dazai and chuuya were, how atsushi and akutagawa were, and even how fukuzawa and mori once were together in their prime time.
"speaking of trees, let’s take care of this walking tree ourselves."
in a blink of an eye as soon as the special grade curse made its move, you and shinya enacted quickly, disappearing in a snap at blinding speed that caused shinya's oversized jacket to fall from his shoulders.
you made a straightforward dash, using your red psionics to hoist and levitate yourself in a blink of an eye while shinya made his own gravity incredibly light for him to move at blinding speed with his feet still on the ground unlike you.
the special grade curse evaded your red psionics and extended both of its hands sidewards as you and shinya both attacked from its sides.
you and shinya glowed a menacing red color. you used your red psionics to conjure and bring forth an abnormally large blast of red while shinya picked up an enormous piece of debris from the ground and hurled it towards the curse.
it was a massive rain of chaos and destruction from that. the collision resulting from both attacks caused shockwaves and an immense turbulence of air.
everyone was awestruck by the immense red psionic energy that scattered throughout the atmosphere, filling the entire area.
majority of them even had to hold onto something or stagger or else they would have flown back the intensity.
the special grade curse was unfazed by both attacks and proceeded to retaliate, sending in more enormous vines and branches towards you.
you and shinya supported each other with shinya skillfully performing sharp turns and flips while you made use of your red psionics to disappear and reappear, moving in a fast forward motion to evade, but then the special grade curse decided to take it closer.
both of you were caught off guard as a branch sprouted to his side and a scythe made out of wood formed on his hand with the curse being quick to sweep it towards you both.
using your red psionics further, you engaged the curse into a close hand to hand combat, something that dazai and everyone else had never seen you do before, given how as a child or toddler they were familiar with, you were solely relying on taking aims and shots.
they were quickly reminded that right now, you were no longer the child they were familiar with. you were now a special grade sorcerer, a seasoned fighter—most importantly, a grown up who had someone now.
yet, the thought of you having.. a partner, still irks dazai and chuuya, and it was the paternal guardian or older brother instinct they have for you.
you blocked out each swing and brandish of the scythe in a skillful defensive tactic with your red psionics. on the other hand, shinya attacked offensively, particularly at the curse's openings and weak spots while kicking and destroying each branch and vine intended for you both.
your eyes widened for a brief moment just as the blade of the scythe met your face, but shinya activated his technique quickly to pull you to him to prevent you from getting hurt,
"cursed technique adhesion!" was what he yelled, a weaker version of the force from both negative cursed energy was employed to pull you away.
as you were pulled back to him for your safety, shinya darted towards the curse, taking the lead to attack it this time, but you quickly followed him.
with his arm outstretched to his side, he employed another of his cursed techniques, "cursed technique black hole!"
a black hole formed as he snapped his fingers with his index and middle fingers extending. shinya hurled it towards the curse as you leapt and made use of his still outstretched arm to the side as a boost up to attack the curse together with him.
just as the curse was about to fend itself against the black hole made out of positive and negative energy with its own raw immense cursed energy, the black hole had altered into you instead—you had warped reality, changing it from you to attacking it instead of the black hole.
you blitzed towards the curse at blinding speed with your open hands brimming with red psionics.
you successfully stabbed through the curse, but before it could take a hold of you and retaliate, you had disappeared into a red mist of psionic energy, and the next thing the curse knew, the extension technique of shinya had reappeared and it attacked it in a blink of an eye as you warped reality once more.
the black destroyed everything in its path, but the special grade curse withstood, narrowly avoiding it.
"so this is the power of chaos magic. [name]'s warping reality right before our eyes," said fukuzawa with acknowledgement, his eyes widening slightly.
"and [name]-chan uses it in sync with shinya-kun's ability that is quite similar to chuuya's very well. their partnership, it's no doubt based on trust and instinct," mori said in addition, smiling and unfazed by the immense and monstrosity of your power and shinya's cursed technique combined, "and it is burning intensely red with passion and power—just like rubies you could say."
you and shinya knew each other and it was very evident with the way the two of you covered up for each other's weaknesses and fought.
you two didn't even have to utter a single word. everyone watched intently as you and your partner attacked the special grade curse.
it was just a straight up massacre at this point.
you and shinya were on a whole nother level compared to this special grade curse, and as it realized it, it decided to change its tactic.
"shit!" chuuya’s eyes widened as the special grade curse disappeared from you and your partner and reappeared towards them, choosing to attack them instead.
fukuzawa and mori equipped their respective blades as akutagawa and kyouka brought out rashomon and demon snow.
the curse summoned an enormous wooden creature that was shaped into a dragon hybrid of sorts and sent an array of branches in their way, filling the entire landscape.
shinya immediately reacted, activating his solemnity technique to move at blinding speed and appear in front of the armed detective agency and port mafia, "cursed technique reversal cohesion!"
with that he activated another cursed technique of his while you used your red psionics to generate a force-field around all of them, preventing them from getting harmed by the extremely powerful repulsive force that repelled all matter in its vicinity.
it repelled the wooden creature and branches filling the entire landscape as if it was nothing. smoke emerged from the intensity of the force and collision, but as smoke cleared out, the special grade curse decided to attack again in a close hand-to-hand range of combat.
both you and shinya attacked at the same time, making use of your red psionics and gravitational control technique respectively.
you shot multiple hexes while throwing hits and jabs as shinya maneuvered with missile-like kicks simultaneously assisting you and attacking the curse with chains made from gravitons, another one of his cursed techniques.
you made sure to block each and every of the curse’s attempts to land a hit on any of the armed detective agency and port mafia members.
however, your aim kept missing even as you made use of shinya's graviton chains to boost yourself.
every blast of red wasn’t hitting the special grade curse as it swung its scythe and attacked you both. you even got cut and wounded by the blade of the scythe.
"hey, don’t you think the kid’s aim is off?” chuuya exclaimed to dazai, his fists trembling slightly in a worry as he watched your red psionics miss the special grade curse.
"yeah, i can see that," dazai said with furrowed brows, "[name]-chan might be getting tired…"
ranpo scoffed at dazai and chuuya's exchange as he watched you and shinya swept the floor with the curse with hexes and featherlight chains.
a part of him wanted to tell them how stupid they were to think of that, especially dazai.
but ranpo simply decided to keep quiet and a smirk slowly rose on his lips as you disappeared into the red mist you casted along with shinya, leaving the special grade curse baffled for a moment but as soon as the red mist dissipated, the same chains had attacked from the ground, sprouting as it pierced through the curse’s torso, impaling it.
everyone was stunned.
the two of you had impaled the curse with the chains. you and shinya reappeared back, but then the special grade curse held a sinister smile as it spoke in an eerie and croaked tone of voice.
"domain expansion: world of trees."
just like that, both of your eyes widened, in fact, everyone was taken aback by the dense growth of trees and it was so immense enough to split the earth as they sprouted from the ground, a barrier forming and trapping all of you inside along with a large number of gigantic wooden hands that erupt upward from beneath the ground, encircling to prevent anyone from escaping.
"w-what is this?!" atsushi cried out, his eyes widening with worry and fear.
you wiped the blood rolling down from the cut on your temple and huffed a small puff of air, "this is a domain expansion.. an advanced barrier technique of jujutsu sorcerers from our world, and it’s a guaranteed hit once a target is trapped in."
"this is the end for you.." the special grade curse declared, laughing maniacally as it pointed the blade of its wooden scythe towards you and everyone. a mad look visible across its monstrous features.
you scoffed, nearly stumbling as you clutched your bleeding arm, prompting shinya to hold you to him to support you while dazai and chuuya, along with atsushi and the others crept towards you.
"[name]-chan!" dazai exclaimed, looking at you with worrisome eyes.
you were now taking in staggered breaths. dazai was right. you were getting exhausted. you may not have any major casualties from the hand-to-hand combat you had with the curse together with shinya and only sustained bearable cuts and bruises, but all those usage of red psionics was draining, he could tell.
"are you alright, kid? you're hurt pretty badly.." chuuya exclaimed, eyeing the exposed wounds you had on you from the fight earlier.
"i'm fine.." you said to chuuya, breathing heavily as you twitched your fingers to stitch yourself along with your partner shinya who was pretty battered up just as you, "we're fine."
"but you said this is a domain expansion.. a technique with a guaranteed hit, [name]-chan," atsushi proclaimed in a worry
"what [name] said is true, but another thing about domain expansion is.." said shinya, "it can be countered by a more refined domain."
the special grade curse swept its scythe to control the entire landscape of trees and giant hands from wood, but to its surprise, it merely remained motionless.
the curse tried again, but it refused to move and kill all of you once and for all at his command, leaving everyone confused.
"if it's the finest domain of all, it is [name]'s hex."
with a smirk creeping on your face, your eyes glowed a menacing red color as you opened them.
shinya glowed red, both his body and eyes as he, too, smirked, the two of you now emitting an ominous aura, holding a frightening look in your eyes.
the branches and hands lunged towards the curse instead, restraining it and piercing him instead.
with the flick of your hand, the domain expansion of wood and such dissolved as the reddish-black fog of your chaos magic seeped through your fingertips once more, revealing a desolate wasteland with lifeless trees and scarlet skies.
in just a blink of an eye, everything down to the molecular level had been altered, and with that, the curse looked at you and shinya with a stunned look.
"wondering how i did it?" you asked, your tone of voice becoming more and more dangerous and siren-like. it was like, hearing an entirely different you, "i can get into people’s heads you know and for another, i have no cursed technique. i manipulate reality however i want."
before the curse could react, your body had started glowing red along with shinya's.
everyone watched as shinya performed a hand sign and clasped his hands together with both index and middle fingers of his hands raised about his chest level, and then he pointed three of his fingers as his thumb held over his ring finger of his other hand towards the curse.
"domain expansion: fearsome order."
at that instant, a dark zone spread and engulfed the warped reality of a red barren hellish landscape.
it was nearly black within the area with red glowing chains of gravitons now surrounding the entire place. the immense and ominous pressure in the atmosphere was unbearable, incredibly overwhelming.
was this.. bloodlust they were feeling? dread?
everyone's bodies were screaming at them to run, but they couldn't. all they could do was watch this hell unfold.
even dazai couldn't believe what he was seeing. this current state you were in together with your partner, the aura you were giving off, it was black in blood.
without another word, the curse attempted to attack, swinging its wooden scythe in hopes to break through the domain expansion and seize you or shinya, but with shinya having control over the gravitational field of the entire area, he merely pointed at the curse his fingers before bringing his fingers in a downward motion, the body of curse was forced to slam to the ground and create a crater from the impact.
shinya then lifted his fingers upwards, prompting the curse to get lifted up in the air.
a sinister smile crept on his face along with yours as you outstretched your hand next, your eyes glowing a menacing red as you manipulated the curse's body to dislocate and crack, causing it to shrivel in pain.
shinya then snapped his fingers and made the chains of gravitons seize the curse and constrict it, wrapping around its neck, limbs and torso in a strickening way.
shinya glanced at you for a brief moment, the danger and hubris of a smile never leaving his face.
the stare and smile that he gave you was enough to tell you the message.
"you're gonna make me say it?" you glanced back at him, raising a brow as you returned the smile.
"you always say it anyway whenever we do this together," shinya chuckled at you, shaking his head.
"well, you're not wrong, shin," you said as you shook your head for a moment, before facing the curse along with shinya and pointed your fingers towards the curse, imitating shinya's hand that was outstretched and pointed at the curse with your thumb over your ring finger.
at the tilt of your head, you uttered the word along with shinya, smirking darkly, "bang!"
that being said, the fruition of your partner's domain expansion came to be. the dark zone created an attractive and repulsive force, combining his adhesion and cohesion technique, and just like that, the target was annihilated by the intense combined force.
an immense damage was inflicted in the desolate wasteland of dead trees and bloody-red skies that the armed detective agency and port mafia had to brace themselves from the tremors that resulted.
once the curse was no more, shinya's domain expansion had dissipated and reality warped back down to a molecular level under your power.
everyone watched in awe as the red hellish landscape dispersed, the surroundings now turning back into the lovely streets of their beloved city, yokohama.
"what.. the fuck.. was that?" chuuya was the first one to utter a word, breaking the silence.
"that.. really was something else.." atsushi exclaimed breathlessly, his eyes not breaking away from you and shinya.
one thing was evident to these gifted detectives and mafias with what they just witnessed before their eyes, especially to mori who had seen such a violent raging storm like this before.
partners. that was what you two truly were.
and dazai could see that clearly. in fact, that was what he had been working on to achieve in creating a new generation of double black, specifically with atsushi and akutagawa.
both dazai and chuuya found themselves staring at you and shinya, as the two of you glanced at each other with a proud and knowing look despite being somewhat battered from the fight against the special grade curse.
however, dazai and chuuya immediately stiffen up in unison when they saw your partner draping an arm around your shoulders.
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"hatsuki shinya, was it?"
you wanted to cringe at the way dazai and chuuya were eyeing your partner from head to toe, scrunitizing him completely while dazai held you to his side closely—he really was a copy of your adoptive father, gojo satoru, even when it came to his protectiveness.
your partner simply raised a brow at dazai, then at chuuya, unfazed by their hard stares.
dazai's face shifted into a look of disgust as he faked a vomit and pulled you closer to his side, "your partner looks like a mirror copy of hat rack, [name]-chan, and it's disgusting."
at that instant, both gravity manipulation users snapped their heads towards him and scowled,
"EXCUSE ME?!"
dazai shook his head and continued to hold you close to him, "see what i mean, [name]-chan? how could this be? have i rubbed my influences on you that much you got a 'chuuya-copy' as your partner?!"
"dazai-nii-san," your sweat began to drop as you watched dazai and chuuya bicker along with shinya, which made you sigh in defeat.
you could already tell that having them meet your partner would not end well.
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✧˖ ° niki says ! ༉‧₊˚.
guess who finally had the time to write for scarlet witch! baby fushiguro! reader after for what seemed like eternity? i found this sitting in my draft and found out i had a whole ass fight scene written in this piece so i polished it real quick while i have spare time so yeah. thanks for reading !
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✧˖ ° join my taglist, perhaps ? ༉‧₊˚.
@anonymousewrites @magpiemissy @anqelically @96jnie @lovesick-fairy @soleelia @irethepotato @nianre @xingqiusliegee @lenasvoid @bloobewy @itz-stuts @17chuuya @achlysyo @youdidntseemehere21 @just-here-reading
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220 notes · View notes
its-chelisey-stuff · 4 months
Text
My final thoughts on Lovely Runner!
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Things I loved about this ending:
No more time travelling. I was SO SURE we were going to go back in time one more time and had been bracing myself for it. And after seeing all these theories online, I really thought the one who was gonna go back in time was Sunjae. Beyond glad I was wrong about this. I was kinda dizzy with all these travels in time.
The way Sunjae got all of his memories from all the timelines back. I know it's technically the same person but the fact that the Sunjae we first met in the drama was fed up with everything and full of guilt always made me sad. That man needed a happy ending more than any of his "versions" lol I'm happy he got that and knew he was loved and saved, time and time again, by the girl he loved.
One hour of fluff! I'm so used to dramas pulling one last annoying twist in the final hour, that I'm pleasantly surprised it wasn't the case here. We got one hour of our leads being happy and in love. The romcom was romcom-ing till the last minute.
Taesung is officially the best second male lead in the history of kdramas. I don't accept any arguments. It's the truth. His character served a purpose and was key to ending that ill fate otp had with the psycho killer. He had the brain cells when our leads didn't lol And I love the fact that his friendship with Sol put him on the right path in life to become such a great detective and person. In a way, just like Sunjae, Sol's love for him, also saved his life.
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Having said all this, and stating that this is gonna be a hard drama to top, I stand by the fact that romcoms in kdramas should be 12 episodes. Up until last year, some had been done that way and I don't know if this is somehow a controversial take to have, but I do believe this drama wasn't the exception *hides underneath the table*
Listen, I don't think it "dragged" because a lot of things were indeed happening, but my obsession for the story peaked at ep 8. If we never got a reason or backstory for the killer (which I don't hate but still why bring him in the first place? lol) we didn't need to expand the story another 8 eps. What we got instead, was more pain and trauma inflicted on the main leads, especially on Sol. Just to... what? Get even with Sunjae's love and own regrets?
Getting even with him and showing she loved him just as much, for me, was Sol going back in time to save him. I didn't need a "sacrifice" on her part to know that.
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They were so cute this ep lol
Finally, I guess it's kind of poetic that Sol became devoted to Sunjae to the point of traveling time and space to save him, because of his songs, and once that purpose was served, he no longer had to be a singer in the new timeline. His love was why he wrote and made those songs. When he had no memories of Sol, there was no reason to longingly sing for her, but I still found it a bit sad. Like something was lost, you know? But this is me just being picky hahahah the fangirl in me will never like to lose the memories I have made thanks to the music I've loved.
And I guess in the end, it's kind of romantic only Sol and Sunjae remember those songs. Like a little souvenir between the two of how epic their love story was.
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lol always a loser till the end.
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the-west-meadow · 1 year
Note
hi! hope youre doing good! could I request Lukas Matsson x reader fic with the prompt “why are you awake right now”
im in love with your writing!
so thankful for the Lukas love. got carried away again, 18+ only!!
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Lukas Matsson x (fem) Reader
prompt: Why are you awake right now? 18+ ONLY
In an unexpected twist, you spent your first night in Stockholm stranded at Lukas Matsson’s estate with the Roys. A torrent of icy rain had made travel to your hotel nearly impossible, so Lukas had diverted you to his house. He called it your welcome party to Sweden. 
At two in the morning, you were still wide awake. You could hear the sound of a TV from behind Roman’s door, Shiv on the phone with Tom, and total silence from Kendall’s room. As his assistant, you were basically always on call. At least for now, you were off the hook and free to roam.
The house was otherwise quiet, with the sound of icy rain pelting the roof. You wandered the dark halls barefoot. Of course the concrete floors were heated. Beyond dark kitchen, the light of a TV flickered from the another room. You peered inside then froze, looking in at Lukas himself, reclining on the sofa in only a white tank top and shorts. You started to turn and creep away, but it was too late.
“Is the TV too loud?”
You stepped into the room hesitantly, self-conscious in just a t-shirt and shorts. 
“No, it’s fine. I just got lost… on the way to the bathroom.”
“There’s one in your room.”
“Right.”
He gave you a curious glance.
“Why are you awake right now?”
“Jet lag. I never sleep anyway.”
Lukas nodded knowingly. 
“I’ve never met anyone I respect who sleeps well.”
He gestured towards the TV.
“Well, I’m watching Swedish dramas if that interests you.”
You padded into the room. There was no where to sit but on the sofa with Lukas. Tucking your legs beneath you, you took a seat at the far end. You blinked at the screen, where two Swedish detectives leaned over a body.
“I don’t speak Swedish,” you said.
“It’s okay. I’ll explain. By the way, have you tried any of our snacks yet?”
He held out a bag of gummies and you took one, examining it.
“What is it?”
“Bilar. It’s supposed to be shaped like a car.”
“It looks like a rabbit.”
"Yeah. Now that you mention it."
“What is that?” you asked, pointing at his soda bottle.
“Julmust. It’s soda we drink at Christmas.”
“It’s April.”
“I guess I don’t do things like normal people.”
“I could have told you that.”
He gave you another curious look, which turned into a grin.
“Sorry,” you said. “Jet lag. My filter is gone.”
“It’s okay. I've never had a filter. It gets me in trouble a lot.”
He gave you another glance.
“So can we agree to pass over all that small talk bullshit?”
“Fine with me. I don’t have the energy for it.”
“You can hit me if I say something shitty.”
“Sounds like you have something in mind.”
He sat up, putting aside the soda and candy. 
“I could have gotten you guys a ride to your hotel. But I wanted you to stay here.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I don’t know when we’ll have a chance like this again.”
His eyes passed over your bare legs. His arm was spread along the back of the sofa, lingering close to your shoulder. You felt the heat flush into your face. You had caught the looks he gave you at various events with the Roys, and yet this was the first time you had found yourself alone with him.
“Why didn’t you come to my room?”
“I wanted you to come to me.”
You stretched out your legs, grazing his lap.
"I've got all this energy I don't know what to do with," you said.
He slid one hand up your calf, creeping along your thigh. His eyes were fixed on you, watching your reaction.
"I think I can help with that," he said.
You took a sharp breath as his hand pivoted to the inside of your thigh. 
“I think the others are still awake,” you whispered. 
“Then you’ll have to be very quiet.”
He gently took hold of your ankle, pulling you towards him. You wrapped your legs around him, feeling him between your thighs, just the thin fabric of your shorts separating your skin from his. 
“Do you think you can be quiet?” he asked, eyeing your lips, your neck. 
“I’m usually not.”
He let out a low breath, brushing your hair out of your face. 
“I wish I could hear that,” he said. 
“What about you?” you asked, grinding into his lap. He tilted his head back, letting out a low moan. 
“Shh,” you said, then leaned over him, taking his head in your hands. As you kissed him, you felt him grind against you from below, growing harder. He grabbed your hair suddenly, pulling your head back.
“Whoever breaks first loses,” he said. You grinned into his lips.
“Deal.”
In one movement, he picked you up and lay you down on the sofa. He pulled off your shorts, tossing them on the ground, and nudged your legs open with his palm. He looked at you with a glimmer in his eye.
“I think I’m going to win,” he said. He stroked you between the legs with one long finger, gazing into your eyes. You threw your head back, biting your lip. 
“See?” he grinned. “You’re already so wet.”
“Fuck you,” you whispered. 
He slid the finger inside as you stifled a moan. Then with a wink he lowered his face between your legs. You felt his tongue hot and wet against you. 
“Oh my god,” you whimpered.
His other hand slid up your leg as his fingers moved slowly, rhythmically, in and out. You clenched your fists in his dirty blonde hair, meeting his blue eyes as he glanced up to see your reaction. All the while, the TV light flickered silently over your two bodies, pressed against each other on the sofa. 
“I’m still going to win,” you gasped. 
He lifted himself up, gazing down at you with his hair wild, breathless. He kicked off his shorts, buried his hand in your hair, and pulsed into you all at once.  
The moan that escaped you was beyond your control. You felt his entire weight on top of you, cradling you in his huge arms, as he teasingly put a hand over your mouth. 
“You lose,” he whispered. 
Not two minutes later, the door to Kendall’s room slid open. He peered out into the hall. Silence. Padding through the house, he made his way through the kitchen until he saw the TV flickering from the other room. 
He peeked inside. There you sat, side-by-side with Lukas, a blanket over your laps. Between you were several bags of snacks. 
“Hey guys,” he said uncertainly.
“What’s up, man?” 
“I thought I heard something.”
Lukas nodded at the TV. “Someone just got murdered. You want some snacks?”
It wasn’t hard to miss the fact that your hair and Lukas’s was a mess, several pillows had fallen to the floor, and your cheeks were flushed. You looked at him guiltily. Kendall caught your eye and gave a slight grin. 
“That’s okay. I’ll leave you guys to it.”
With a little wave, Kendall withdrew from the room, leaving you alone again.
“Poor guy,” Lukas said. “Guess he can’t sleep either.”
Then he tilted your face towards his and kissed you on the lips. His hand slid beneath the blanket.
“Now, where were we?”
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queer-geordie-nerd · 1 month
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“In 1941, after a dramatic turn of events, both outside and inside the country, Croatia proclaimed independence, becoming a puppet state of the German Third Reich. The Independent State of Croatia (NDH – Nezavisna Drzava Hrvatska) was born. Almost immediately, racial laws were introduced. Fritz (my grandfather) had just come back from his travels abroad when the new law forced him to return to the town of his birth in order to register as a Jew and get a yellow star on his sleeve. His sisters who stayed in Bosnia were in hiding. Both of them had married Serbs because, even with Serbs being hated and persecuted, it was still better to be a Serb than a Jew.
“It’s still better to be a Serb than a Jew” – I would hear that same exact sentence from a Hungarian consul in London in 1993, while we were applying for a visa. The consul meant it as a joke. But my husband and I, people with no country or passport at the time, did not laugh. We could not understand how this man had managed to identify us as a Serb and a Jew respectively, although we ourselves had never mentioned those facts and our travel documents did not hold that information. Are all racists of this world connected in some unknown, mysterious way? Do they know facts about us that even we don’t know?
Fritz was torn. He had an invitation to emigrate to Israel. My mother would mourn his refusal to take that offer throughout her whole life. Why didn’t he leave? He was a fairly well-known figure in Zagreb. One of his best friends was Bozidar Adzija, a respected leftist writer and politician. A street in Zagreb bore his name until the right wing Tudjman government changed it in the nineties.
This group of young people was infected by progressive ideas about a world without nationalism and religious sectarianism. Fleeing to Israel must have seemed like giving up on those ideas. It meant seeking refuge with your own tribe and thus denouncing the idea of being a citizen of the world. At least I presume that was one of the reasons to stay. There was also the well known human habit of refusing to believe the worst could ever happen. Also, finding solace in the word of the law, even if that law seems wrong (If I obey the law, they would not hurt me, would they? The answer is: yes, they would.)
Fritz obediently returned to his town of Bijeljina and registered as a Jew. He went searching for his sisters who chased him away: he was a danger to them. They were hiding in a Serbian Orthodox church where the authorities didn’t dare to touch them. They both took their husbands’ Serbian names. They didn’t want to risk capture because of their brother. Later on, in discussions with my Jewish family in Belgrade, I would always detect an animosity towards Fritz: how dared he endanger the family? Fritz was on his own, without protection from anyone. He was immediately captured by the Bosnian pro-Nazi Muslim police and transferred to the Croatian Ustashas. And that’s how he found himself in Jasenovac concentration camp.
That beautiful, soft, elegant, educated man was now digging mud from the smelly ditch surrounding the camp, at the mercy of enthusiastic killers. It wouldn’t last long. How old was he when he died? I could never find out. He had disappeared without a trace. Branka spent the war in Zagreb, under the strict antisemitic laws, studying French and Yugoslav literature at the university. She would hide from all the horror behind books. They were saving her life. On the practical front, she started using her biological mother’s name, Savić, because – as I said before – in that time and that place it was still better to be a Serb than a Jew. But what really protected her during the Nazi years in Croatia was her adoptive mother, Ljuba.”
- Mira Furlan, Love Me More Than Anything In the World
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sapphicseasapphire · 6 months
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Hii! Hello, I really love your Cryptid au!!!
Something I'm wondering about, if it makes any sense
So like, Time is A God, right? And over however many hundreds of years, he loses his connection to humanity?
So, in the far future, maybe like around Botw, he'd probably be more like the other deities and more well known, right?
Would characters like Flora or Impa, for example, if they knew who he was, be like super amazed about the fact that there is just straight up A God talking to them?
ahh if that makes sense, it's kinda hard to explain!
Hi! This is a great question, thanks for asking! Allow me to ramble and hope that I answer it in a roundabout way haha!
(Under the cut because long)
So, Time’s journey into Godhood is a very long one. His progression from mortal to deity goes quick, but he doesn’t truly embrace his power for centuries after his mortal lifespan is over. In his own era, with Malon and his children, he tries his best to just be a normal guy. He wants to be a dad, a husband. He wants to worry about the fate of the ranch, not the fate of the world. Mostly, he’s afraid. He never wanted to be a God. He never uses his powers.
(He’s like this for the majority of his travels with the Cryptid Chain)
Every Cryptid Link that comes after Time’s era has a different version of the God of Time, the earlier ones not really having an established God but being influenced heavily by his power, and the later ones knowing plenty of myths and legends about the God of Time, but his impacts on their lives are much less obvious. Easily written off.
Time’s most important era, other than his own, would be Twilight’s. This happens only like a hundred or two years after his own life should have ended, and Time is very committed to protecting his family. And so, as the Man of Many Faces, he personally sees to it that Twilight learns how to fight. As the Hero’s Shade, he trains the young Shapeshifter and rewinds time to save his life or give him another chance when things get rough.
He watches when Twilight finishes his adventure. He watches when Twilight leaves to go on the Cryptid Chain’s adventure. He watches until the journeys are over, the battles are won, and everything is quiet. He watches Twilight breathe his last.
After that, he decides that he can’t do that anymore. And while he still protects his boys in their future adventures, he doesn’t get nearly as involved. And it’s not just the Links that he stops interacting with- it’s all mortals. He still does his job diligently. He keeps the timelines in order, he protects his people. He receives prayers and answers what he can, but he does his work from the sidelines.
Because of this, as he truly ascends to Godhood, he is a mystery to mortals. Like I said- earlier Links have been more personally impacted by Time but didn’t know who he was (he was too fresh of a God to be established) and the later Links have been more indirectly impacted by Time but it could be interpreted as mere coincidences. Time would be more well known, but less detectable.
By the time he’d reach Wild’s era, he’d be very reclusive. Flora, the history major we all know and love, would absolutely know about the Hero of Time and all of his titles and names. Impa, Paya, the religious leaders, would also be very knowledgeable about Time’s legends and myths. Purah, our favorite Sheikah researcher, 100% knows all about him! It’s common knowledge, I think, in Wild’s era, but these ones are especially familiar with Time’s history.
Except… the God has not shown himself to the world in thousands of years. I actually do have a scene in mind for one of my storylines where Flora meets Time. She doesn’t know exactly who he is- Cryptid era Time doesn’t act very God-like, at least not like any that she’s come to know of- but there’s something about him. Power rolls off of him in waves, his mere presence is overwhelming. He seems to shine with subtle iridescence, his voice is quiet but it carries. She knows, on some level, that he has authority over her. Over All. (Time would deny this to the ends of the earth, but there’s no denying the truth: he is a God. There’s no escaping that).
I hope this makes sense??? Trying to talk about Time’s lore gets confusing since there’s so many time jumps and rewinds and skips. To summarize, Time stops interacting with mortals so he becomes somewhat of a mysterious God. So while Flora would know of him, she wouldn’t know what to look for. When she meets Time, his present is her past- her present is his future- and present Time is nothing like future Time, so Flora doesn’t recognize him.
This is all Pre-God Reveal, of course haha!
I hope this answers your question?
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sunnyyflowerrs · 22 days
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things i’ve written!!
thought i’d add a little guide to stuff i’ve written for all the itafushi enjoyers out here <33 under cut!!
Ongoing:
fire extinguishers work just fine (39.9k, 16/20 chaps):
this is my current long fic, it’s a firefighter!yuuji and detective!megumi fic where they meet each other by chance and then work on an arson case together. slow burn, fluff, and mystery, gets a little more serious toward the end. (i post updates about this one too and it has some amazing art from my wonderful friends!! x x x NEW!! ) 
is it gay if our pinkies are intertwined? (2.1k, 1/3. chaps):
this is just a very unserious, goofy, fluffy fic where megumi and yuuji get hit by a curse where they HAVE to hold hands and be touching each other. it’s sweet and silly, writing it with my love @kentuckyfriedmegumi and there will most likely be a new chap soon! when i’m not dying. anyways check it out !
One-shots:
my preferred medium ;)
Fluff:
copy cat (7.8k, T for kissing) - honestly, this one is just megumi beefing with a cat for like nearly 8k. megumi is jealous of a cat, yuuji is stubborn, they both are idiots and they fall in love. college roomates au
five times the first years thought their sensei had a girlfriend + one time they figured it out (5.2k, G) - this is set in the future where itafushi are teachers at jujutsu high, and the first years think itadori-sensei has a girlfriend named megumi. they are wrong on a lot of things. fluff, humor, and overall shiggles.
fushiguro megumi is not homophobic (1.1k, G) - short and sweet, gojo being chaotic, megumi being lovesick, and yuuji being a little dumb but it’s ok bc they get together.
Bittersweet:
added this section in bc these aren’t really angst but not fluff either? more serious character studies but they are funny at times
makes the heart grow fonder (3.8k, G) - implied itafushi, but basically adult megumi accidentally time travels to before shibuya and talks to gojo. first ff i ever wrote and definitely one of my favorites!!
think fast (you only get one try) (3.3k, G) - slightly angsty megumi airport fic i wrote after 263 (lowk prophesied some things?!?) about gaining back his will to live. a little outdated since manga readers know what happened, but to this day one of my favorite fics ive written! light angst, character study, and ofc a happy ending. has a little ficlet second part, end credits
Angst:
i hope it’s not for sure, can you open up the door? (2.4k, T) - written for the JJK Gotcha for Gaza event, megumi is traumatized from the final battle and copes badly, but itadori isn’t letting him self destruct anytime soon. happy ending, ofc.
ok, that’s enough of me yapping abt my fics. if you ending up checking them out, i’m always here to yap abt itafushi in the comments or in my ask box!! these two have rotted my brain fully. hope you guys enjoy <3
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