#again grammar errors

[ledoodlestuff]

FHFIF OC INFO #2 "Nox Galaxia"

"A small and cute cosmic being yet she's one (if not) the most powerful Imaginary Friend in Foster's Home. She's friendly and nice to others but if angered for specific reason, she unleash a powerful form 'Galaxia Nebula' so as long as you don't anger her, you'll be fine to her" MORE INFO: - Nox Galaxia is a Latin word for 'Night Galaxy.' - She's been living in Foster's Home for 5+ years before Bloo comes in - She's Non-Binary and their pronouns is She/Her/They/Them/It/Its (Prefered She/They) - She's from Germany. - Her height is about 3'5 ft or 4ft. - They're imagined by a young girl who has insomnia and is prob afraid of the dark so she imagined her to help her sleep by singing a lullaby that makes her sleepy. Their creator is currently an adult and is an astronomer nerd. - The 'Galaxia Nebula' is one of her powerful form (and prob a true form)

This is what she looks like in her form. (dang the creator has a powerful imagination). Her height in this form is almost twice as Wilt

- Her pawprint is a star (as seen in her foot from the picture)

- Despite being so small, she has many cosmic powers (Like cosmic warp, Cosmic Energy, etc.), counting her as the most powerful Imaginary Friend around Foster's Home.

- Her friends are Checker Chesster and Pablo (another oc) but her closest friend is Eduardo. ('Cute but Powerful x Scary but coward trope' ahh duo) (Second oc post yayyyy. I absolutely have no idea what to put smth for her :/ sorry if the info is a bit small) Also extra fact about Checkers Chesster: During in 'Pranks for Nothing,' Coco, Wilt and Ed accidentally pranked the wrong person, Checkers Chesster. Of course, he is not VERY happy about this so in aftermath, he had to pull out a revenge prank together with Bloo >:]

[thesunisatangerine]

playing for keeps – chapter four

alexia putellas x barçakeeper!childhoodfriend!reader

warning/s: coarse language; mentions of: grief, death, drowning; not proofread

(a/n in the tags) [chapters: one, two, three, four]

word count: 13.1k

[1]

‘Can you meet me at the playground?’ was Guille’s message the night after your graduation, casting a blue streak over a relatively warm summer night. The short hand of the clock hovered over eleven when you got it, and you had half a mind to ignore it–because how dared he do this now?–but you sent him a reply before heading out of the door.

The playground was less than ten minutes away but you took the corner; the one that led around the block. He could wait, you thought. After all, you’d been giving him just that: the luxury of time. But he never did anything with it did he, so why would you rush? And what could he possibly want now after months of ignoring you? Was this a final goodbye? After everything you’d been through together, was this really how it’s going to end? 

You sniffled and ran the back of your hand over your eyes as you walked the last few yards to the park.

Tap tap tap.

The distinct sound of football-to-shoe brought you back. Ahead under the yellow glow of the lone streetlamp that lit the playground, with his back turned to you, was Guille juggling a football. A breeze brushed your cheek and it carried the familiar sweetness of Guille’s body spray. You remembered when he started using it—it was around the time you’d complained to him about how you found the scent of guy’s deodorants repugnant, and that you could only stand the new scent that he bought. And after that, it was all he’d ever used. You couldn’t help but wonder if that was around the time he started liking you, and the thought made you recoil. 

The ball reached another high, this time going over Guille’s head, making him turn, but it never connected to a touch. Instead, it landed on the ground. Its momentum carried it to a stop just a few paces away from you but you made no move to kick it back. You dragged your eyes away from the ball and found his finally.

For a moment, it was as if the world stood still. You soaked in the state of him: there was a heaviness that swelled in the skin beneath his eyes which were devoid of their usual light; his arms sagged heavily by his sides, contorting the contours of his silhouette to a shape that displaced the confidence you’d seen him wear so easily growing up. Even in the low light, the jagged cut that interrupted the line of his left brow remained prominent, but it was gone from view when dark curls fell to cover it after Guille ran his fingers through his hair.

He cleared his throat before he spoke, yet his voice still broke over his words. 

“Hey. Uh–thank you for coming,” he smiled a little. “Can we talk?”

You eyed him carefully, letting a moment of silence settle in the air as you crossed your arms. Only after you noted a slight movement in Guille’s throat did you skim the sole of your foot over the ball, sending it his way. When you met his eyes again, something akin to relief shone in them––or maybe it was gratitude?––before he kicked the ball towards you again. That went on for a while; back and forth the ball went during which no one said a word. From the way Guille kept clenching and unclenching his hands, you doubted he knew what he even wanted to say, least of all how to say it.

Still, you waited. 

Another moment, he stopped the ball, wiped his hands on the sides of his shirt before stuffing them in his short pockets, his posture awkward and stiff. He opened his mouth and in the breath before he spoke his first word, your heart dropped to your stomach and you braced yourself.

This was it.

“I–I want to apologize!”

You blinked. That… was unexpected.

“I know it’s probably too late, but I don’t think I can live without saying it, you know?” He shrugged as he smiled, but it was too crooked, and his eyes shone. 

“I’m really sorry. For what I did, and what I said. Those hurt you… I hurt you.”

He released a shaky breath, bit his lower lip as he swiped a thumb at the corner of his eye.

“I’m not expecting to be forgiven and I understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore. I just–I’m sorry. And I want you to know that I had the best time with you.” 

His lips curled up to a smile but the quiver of his chin broke the curve and his tears spilled. 

He looked so young then, so much like a lost little boy who looked nothing like the boy you met when you were eight: newly-transferred Guille who became the smallest out of all the boys in your class yet, with his quiet confidence, he towered over them with his head held high. You remembered him as he was then when he first introduced himself to you, his cheeks rosy from playing too much under the sun and just a little out of breath when he asked you to be in his team during recess. He did it too without any snide remarks, something you’d gotten used to from playing with the other boys in class. He never brought your being a girl up even when your team lost, and it was the first time you were treated as an equal on the field at school. 

And he just stuck with you, and you with him; all the shared lunches, the laughter, the late night banters… there was no way you could let this friendship go. 

This was so stupid. 

“This is stupid,” you choked as you hastily wiped a tear away but it was quickly followed by another. “Come here, you idiot!” 

You surged forward and wrapped your arms around him, the force of it nearly knocking the both of you over. It took him a second but when the weight of his arms settled on you––when his comforting warmth finally seeped in––you were hit by just how much you’d missed him.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” were the strained words spoken against your ear as he hugged you tighter. 

“You’re an idiot,” you mumbled on his shoulder. “It’s going to take some time but we’ll be alright, I forgive you. And I want us to remain friends, under two conditions if you’re up for it.” 

He pulled away slightly to wipe his cheeks, and gave you a small smile. He was a bit breathless when he said, “Anything.” 

There was a light lilt in his tone and you understood he meant it, so you nodded, returning his smile. He followed you when you went to sit on one of the benches, situating himself so there was enough space between you for one person.

Looking him in the eye, you started, “I know it’s a lot to ask but if you have any plans to wait for me, I want you to forget about it. I love you and I care for you, but I need you to understand that a brother and a friend is all I will find in you.” 

His eyes strayed downwards and they clouded over. He closed them with a sigh and when they opened, he looked at you and you found a lightness in them that comforted you; his face bore a friendly warmth that you haven’t seen in a while.

“I understand, and you don’t have to apologise.” 

He scooted closer so he could bump his knee against yours, now grinning. His playfulness made you smile.

“And one more thing,” you added after a moment, and he nodded for you to continue. “You… you have to make amends with Alexia.” 

The grin fled from his face and you didn’t miss the way he flinched. His knuckles whitened and tension brewed in his muscles. And when his eyes darkened, you couldn’t help but frown at the change in his demeanor. You reached out to touch his shoulder.

“Guille––”

Then, like a spring, all the air of rigidness left him. He threw his head back and released a laugh that caught you off guard. When he regarded you again, the curve of his lips remained.

Then he said in a tone filled with mirth, “You know, if she hadn’t knocked some sense into me that night, I’d probably still be wallowing in self-pity like an entitled prick.”

At the reminder, your eyes wandered to the scar on his left brow but they lingered only for a second.

“And yes, done. She hates my guts,” you opened your mouth to protest otherwise but when Guille gave you a pointed look, you closed it immediately, “but I will patch things up with her. Besides, I need to thank her for straightening me out.”

You gaped at him.

“It’s that easy?”

He shrugged, still smiling.

“I mean, yeah? It’s either those or losing you, and I know I value you more than I do my pride and ego.”

There it was again, his quiet confidence. It diminished though when he brushed a finger over the bridge of his nose, eyes darting down to his feet briefly before meeting yours again. And when he spoke, there was more than a little uncertainty that bled into his tone, and maybe a little bit of hope. 

“Besides, we’re friends. Right?”

You scrunched your nose at him in answer as you grinned.

“Damn right,” you confirmed. Then you punched his shoulder for good measure. His jaw dropped open in an offended gasp. He sat there wide-eyed for a moment before he locked an arm around your neck, his free hand mussing up your hair in an instant, and you could only shriek and chortle at the action. 

In that moment, you felt as if a weight had finally been lifted off your shoulders. And there was no better way to truly feel the lightness of being than having somebody to laugh with. Then a comfortable pause washed over you both as you caught your breaths. In the silence that settled, you leaned back on your hands and kicked your feet up idly in the air. 

It was Guille who spoke first. 

“You don’t have to answer, but do you like someone?”

Your feet stilled. And then, without bidding, a series of images flashed through your mind of brown hair, freckles, hazel… Warmth coiled and gathered in your chest as if the ghost of a hand hovered over it. 

“It’s her, isn’t it?”

A distinct pop went off somewhere in your neck from the speed by which you gaped at him. Guille’s eyes remained trained ahead and his face was relaxed, void of any judgement… Surely, he didn’t say what you thought he said, right? 

You swallowed, throat dry, and choked, “What did you say?”

“Alexia.” He turned to you then, and smiled; small but not unkindly. “She’s the one, isn’t she?”

Blood thundered in your ears, and your heartbeat tripled. 

“No! I–That’s ridic–”

Warmth over your hand; Guille had taken yours into his, and the ice in your skin thawed instantly. Only when Guille tightened his grip to still your hand did you know just how badly you were shaking. 

“Hey, look at me. It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone, I swear,” his voice was soothing and he squeezed your hand for good measure. “I think, deep down, I’ve always known. Maybe that’s why I treated everything as a competition because I felt threatened by her. And I never understood why you always gravitated towards her like she’s your own Earth. But now I know. If… If I ever made it difficult to come to terms with your feelings for her, I’m sorry.” 

His words and their sincerity brought a calm with them, stopping the surge of panic in your veins. And, like a tide, it receded. Finally finding your voice again, you spoke. 

“You–you’re not angry?”

His brows rose.

“Why would I be?”

Then he gave you another smile. You understood it was meant to reassure you but you couldn’t help but notice that the corners of his lips were somewhat weighed down with sadness. Still, judgement made no home in his eyes. 

“I won’t tell anyone. I promise. And if you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

A brief pause as his eyes wandered. 

“I–Maybe not for a while. It’s not that I want to, but I think some distance will do me some good. I want to respect your boundaries, and for me to do that, I need to get my feelings sorted out. I’m… I’ve made up my mind anyway. I’m leaving the city.” 

“What?” You choked. “When? Where are you going?”

Then a spark of anger went off. You jabbed at his shoulder. Guille yelped suddenly, his eyes became wide with surprise. 

“You jerk! Is that the reason why you’re finally saying sorry?!” 

“I–No, of course not! I mean, yeah, but no!” He gestured in the air. “What I’m trying to say is… I’m here because I want to make amends, not because I feel like I had to. Besides, I won’t be leaving for another two months.” 

Oh.

“Oh.” Your cheeks felt warm. 

“Yeah, ‘oh’.” He repeated with a sarcastic note but a playful spark lit up his eyes. 

You apologised sheepishly. Then, “Where are you headed? And what are you going to do?”

Guille shrugged, leaning back against his arms as he looked up at the night sky.

“I don’t know yet. I was thinking of travelling for a bit, maybe go around Europe first? Do you remember how Aunt Aloma lives in London? Yeah, she told me I could stay with her if I ever planned to go there for university.”

When he mentioned London, a lead sank into your gut. Logically, you knew it wasn’t too far away; the three-hour long flight would be a small price to pay to see Guille again. The fact that he wouldn’t be an arm’s reach away like he was right then—that childhood was departing—made your chest ache. You didn’t know you’d teared up until you felt Guille’s hand on your shoulder and the consequent squeeze there. 

“Don’t cry on me now, I haven’t even left yet.” He said lightly but his eyes were glazed over, too. “Hey, don’t worry, it won’t be for good. Before you know it, I’ll be back here to annoy you. And you know, maybe once I’ve settled in London you could even visit.”

You took his hand and squeezed it back, saying, “Just say the word and I’ll be there. 

[2]

“He’s studying what now?” 

“Sports Psychology. Pay attention.” You swatted at Alexia’s hand but she ignored you. She continued to pinch some more grass from beside where she was laying and let them get carried by the breeze as she threw them into the air. The blades of grass flew freely but some of them landed on her chest and stomach where a bunch of them had begun to pile up. Still, she continued her endeavor. She looked ridiculous but warmth filled you nonetheless, and you smiled as you leaned over to pick them off her jersey. 

Alexia hummed with a note of surprise, “He works fast. He’s only been away for four months?”

“Well, we are talking about Guille here.” 

“Hmm, I always thought Lover Boy would end up in physio–Hey!” 

Alexia yelped when you jerked your thigh that her head was resting on.

“Stop calling him that,” you reprimanded with a light flick to her forehead. At the reminder though, your cheeks warmed. 

She rubbed her forehead as she narrowed her eyes at you, then with a huff and a pout, “Fine, fine! No need to get defensive. Why is it such a big deal anyway?”

“Because, Alexia, we’re all trying to move on.”

“You make it sound like the two of you broke up or something.” She snickered before adding, “Which begs the question, why didn’t you ever go out with him? Minus the fact that he gave you a concussion, of course.” 

Her tone changed at the end, an inflection of something bitter—a bit of her protectiveness showing through—that you chose to ignore. Yet you found yourself unable to answer her anyway. 

You recalled the conversation you had with Guille that night, the way he figured out who held your heart so easily. Ever since, a question gnawed at the edge of your mind, the same one that whispered to you now: were your feelings so transparent? So obvious? 

A brush against your jaw pulled you back and, upon looking down, you were met with the question still in Alexia’s eyes. You shrugged, pulling away from her touch as nonchalantly as you could. 

“Guille is a friend and only that.”

“But you were so close,” she commented.

“Proximity doesn’t always mean intimacy, Alexia.” You were grasping for straws, you knew this. Your eyes wandered before you admitted with another shrug, “Besides, I can’t really see myself in a relationship. Not right now, anyway.”

“Oh.” The sound Alexia made was gentle, barely audible, that you thought it was the wind’s whisper. And then in a tone so soft, “Really? You don’t like anyone? Anyone at all?”

There was something in the way she asked that beckoned you to look back down at her. The scattered rays of the sun dappled her freckled cheeks with flushed amber, and her eyes that were normally a deep shade of ochre shone golden in the light. There was a softness in them that made your heart stutter, and another thing you couldn’t quite figure out, almost a plea, but about what?

You dragged your eyes away from her lips to meet her eyes.

“No, I don’t think it’s for me,” you murmured.

She stared at you for a long time. It felt like being swallowed into their depths and you could do nothing but be swept away, keep the contact somehow, lest she’d find something she shouldn’t see. So you stared right back. 

Eventually, she whispered, “Maybe you just haven’t found the right person yet.”

The lump in your throat remained even after you swallowed. Finally looking away, you hummed out in half-agreement.

“Yeah. Maybe you’re right.”

A pause.

“Do you miss him?” 

“I do. I really do.” You admitted with a sigh. 

After another moment of silence, Alexia continued.

“Would… would you join a club in England?” 

Your gaze flicked back down to her, frowning a little.

“It’s either Barça or Bayern for me, Alexia. You know this.” 

At that, Alexia averted her eyes, picked a fallen leaf, twirled it between her fingers, and then looked at it as if it held the mysteries of the world. 

Carding a finger through her hair, you prompted softly, “Why would you ask that?” 

She shrugged, quirking the corner of her lips downwards. Then she met your eyes with barely concealed vulnerability, voice hesitant when she asked, “So, you’re staying?”

“I am,” you said firmly, smiling at her. “Besides, we’re in this together, aren’t we? Wherever you go, I’ll follow.” 

Finally, her lips broke into a grin.

“I can’t wait to play with you when we get on the first team.” She said with such certainty you couldn’t help but grin back.

“Do you really think we’ll make it?”

“Yeah. We will, you’ll see.”

And you did.

There reflected in her eyes the vision of a future. That familiar splendor of passion—that unwavering resolve—shone untarnished, and the mere sight of it filled you with an overwhelming desire to kiss her. Instead, you leaned down and pressed your forehead to hers.

Alexia accepted the contact with a sigh, and then she whispered, “Sorry to say, but you’re stuck with me, too.”

[3]

You got into Barça’s first team—the both of you did. 

There was a moment where you thought it was too good to be true, and that surely the other shoe would drop any time soon. 

And it did.

Maybe deep down, you hoped otherwise; that the universe would prove you wrong. But the universe had a wicked sense of humor, and you would’ve laughed at the cruelty of the joke if anguish had not choked your laughter tight into tears. The taste of achievement was still fresh on your tongue, still on your way to relishing it, before that same sweetness quickly soured to bitter disappointment. 

Not a year after joining Barça’s first team ranks, the news reached you. Our funds were not enough, they said, and they were sorry they had to cut the women’s team. There was no other way, the club didn’t have enough money to keep the team in the league.

The fact that you got a taste of your dream only to have the rug pulled beneath you was maddening, and it made the pain from the fall all the more worse. The news hit you hard, but Alexia took it the worst.

There was a thin line between perseverance and obsession, and some would even go so far to say that the two were opposite sides to the same coin. You know this. And you also know that Alexia had tossed that coin so many times now that she’d probably forgotten what each of those faces meant, progressively confounding one for the other until they were now one and the same.

Looking back now, the signs were all there: you were blinded by your own loss and your admiration for Alexia that you failed to see it or what it really was—a festering obsession. The signs were there in your time with Espanyol, especially during the first few months after the news of Barça’s restructuring broke; they were present in the way Alexia behaved compulsively, always seething with barely concealed hunger, her tenacity both on and off the field magnified to the tens. It waned somewhat during the season but now with the both of you facing another move—to Levante this time—her obsession resurfaced with renewed vigor, corrupting each knot of her muscle to constrict to their breaking point.

“Ale, do you want to come over to mine?” You asked, leaning against the doorframe of Alexia’s bedroom, while Alexia remained hunched over a folder filled with formations, the same one she’d been studying since last match day.

“Why?” She threw over her shoulder, not even turning to look at you.

You picked at your thumb. 

“I don’t know. Just come and sleep over? Mamá and Papá have been asking about you, you know?”

Finally she turned and her eyes found you. They were flat and the skin under them looked darker than they were yesterday. A slight crease was present between her brows, and her lips drooped slightly at the corners, seemingly unimpressed.

“I just saw them yesterday.” 

Okay, maybe that was a lie.

You shrugged it off, “Doesn’t matter. Come visit anyway.”

“I have other things to worry about,” Alexia grumbled with annoyance, turning around to assume her previous position.

“That’s not going to run away from you, Alexia. Come on.”

 Without letting her get another word in, you took her wrist in a gentle grip and tugged her away from her table. Although you had to admit, it was difficult not to remain unfazed when Alexia got like this, especially considering what she’s going through. Another part of your brain was saying the opposite; that it was because of what she’s going through that you had to intervene like this.

“Hey, wait! What are you doing?!” Alexia protested halfway down the stairs.

“Dragging you to my place, of course.”

“What about my things?”

“You have clothes there. Or, you can just wear my stuff.”

“But we have training!”

“It’s only a light session tomorrow.” 

“But—”

“Alexia.” 

You fixed a stern eye at her over your shoulder and she opened her mouth, as if to say something, before she shut it, sighing in defeat.

The both of you just made it down the stairs to see the front door swing open. Eli entered first, Alba trailing in after. At the sight of her family, Alexia strode to where they were to greet them; she kissed Eli on her temple, and Alba on top of her head.

“How’s Papá?”

Eli gave her daughter a small smile, but the skin around her eyes remained taut, weighed down by something inexplicably heavy. 

“He’s stable, love. The same as when you saw him this morning.” Eli’s gaze flicked to you. “Are you girls heading out?”

You nodded.

“I’ll be stealing away Alexia for the night. Is that okay?”

Eli smiled at you, “Of course.”

“We made some food for dinner. They’re on the stove top.”

“Oh, thank you, my girls.” Eli said, hugging you goodbye after you’d put on your shoes. Then she whispered in your ear, “Thank you.”

In response, you only hugged her tighter. Without meaning to, your eyes fleeted over to Alexia who was having a hushed conversation with Alba. By the end of it, Alexia embraced her little sister, placing another kiss atop her head only this time, Alexia’s brows were deeply creased. 

When you pulled away, you said, squeezing Eli’s hands. “Get some rest, Má. I’ll bring her back first thing after practice tomorrow.” 

And with that, you and Alexia headed out. 

The transit to your place was punctuated with a vacuous silence. Alexia sat beside you, less than an arm’s reach away, but her eyes were trained at somewhere far on the horizon; and she, even farther. But you let her be, there was plenty of time to talk later after all. 

By the time you got home, the lights were already off save for the small night light in the hallway so the both of you climbed the stairs on your toes, making sure to avoid that one creaky spot by the corner.

“You can clean up here, I’ll use the other shower. “ You said, jutting your chin to the direction of the shower. 

Alexia only nodded.

When you returned to your room, the bathroom was empty, a fresh glass of water stood by your night stand, and Alexia was nowhere to be seen. You were just about to head downstairs when she padded into your room with a towel draped over her head and a damp spot from her hair on a shirt you recognised to be yours. 

She must’ve seen the question in your eyes because she muttered, “Double-checked the door lock.”

You hummed as she walked past you, back into the bathroom, and you heard the tap run. 

“Thanks for the water,” you said while taking a sip from the glass she put there.

A sound of recognition came from Alexia.

When Alexia finally finished her business in the bathroom, hair slightly ruffled and almost dry, you were already settled in bed, the sheets on her side pulled off in silent invitation. But Alexia remained standing there, by the golden cast of your night lamp, looking a bit lost for reasons you understood.

Softly, you coaxed, “Hey.”

Alexia’s eyes flicked to you and your heart ached at the sight of them so dulled and weary. It took her another moment but she finally slid in next to you, the warmth of her finally arriving home and seeping into your bones. When her feet brushed over your legs as she shifted beside you, you joked with a hushed giggle to lighten the mood, “Get your cold feet away from me.” 

It worked because her lips quirked up slightly, eyes rolling in jest, but not a second later, her eyes dimmed again, and she looked away. You propped yourself up on your elbow to see her clearly but she refused to meet your eyes. Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, you whispered, the words cracking under the weight of your emotion.

“Ale, talk to me.”

Silence.

A breath.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” came the hoarse reply.

Breathing deeply, you buried your fingers in her hair to try and soothe her. And again, you spoke in whispers. 

“You know, it’s okay to grieve about it, to be angry about it. You don’t have to be strong all the time, Alexia.”

Her eyes flashed with something red then and she growled.

“And what will grieving get me? The way through is forward and only forward. Do you think the world will stop to give you enough time to grieve? To be angry?”

She continued, each word exhaled with urgency. 

“No. The moment you stop, you will be left behind. And I can’t stop. Not now. Especially not now.”

“Having a moment for yourself isn’t stopping. You can’t expect yourself to go on like this forever. Sometimes, you have to do what’s good for yourself, Alexia.”

A scoff.

“It doesn’t matter what’s good for me. What I need is to get back to Barça. Then, and only then, will I feel at ease.”

“At the expense of what, then? Killing your passion for the sport by making it your duty?”

Alexia startled you when she ripped herself away from you, sitting up so abruptly that the headboard banged against the wall. And when she glared down at you, you found a look in her eyes similar to that of a desperate animal’s; a look where the distinction between fear and anger blurred into something wild. 

Then, through her teeth, she hissed in a low voice.

“It is my duty! It always has been. Don’t you see? It has always been more than a sport to me. It’s not the same for you and I don’t expect you to understand because you—”

She stopped herself, facing forward in an instant, pinching the bridge of her nose as she setted her arms over her folded knees. 

Slowly, you rose, and only the sound of sheets settling around your waist filled the air. This momentary reprieve was mainly for Alexia’s sake—she was overwhelmed, that was clear to see—but maybe you needed a moment yourself because what she said hurt you. Still, you soldiered on because this was for Alexia. 

She tensed upon your touch, her muscles rippled beneath your palm as you dragged it from the small of her back, tracing the contours of her spine to the nape of her neck, but by the time your hand finally settled on her opposite shoulder, some of the tension had melted away.

“No, you’re right, I don’t understand,” you began, voice strained. “I don’t understand why you’re so adamant in destroying yourself. This—this shutting your family out with what’s happening with you. Your mother is worried sick. She’s asking about how you are, Alexia, do you know that? Your own mother!” 

Alexia released a weary sigh and then said in an even wearier tone.

“She has no need to worry.”

You almost scoffed at that, but stopped yourself although you couldn’t help the severity that bled into your next words.

“How could she not when you’re working yourself to the bone? Tell me, how do you expect us not to worry?” 

Silence. Then the murmur of folding fabric when Alexia curled into herself, head buried in the arms folded over her knees. In that cavern of her own making, a ragged breath echoed, followed by the shuddering of muscles. You ached at the state of her, and there was a lump in your throat that you couldn’t swallow. 

And barely above a whisper, you breathed, “You cannot carry the whole weight of the world by yourself. You’re not Atlas, Alexia. Let your family in.”

“Ale,” you tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear. Red eyes peered from the darkness of her arms and it broke you, but you had to plead, “Talk to me. Please…”

“I–I’m scared,” she choked out finally. “He’s getting worse. It’s the second attack this month and I—”

Her fingers dug into her arms when she tightened her grip.

“I thought winning the Copa de la Reina last year would give us enough exposure but it wasn’t enough. So, I wanted to do it again this season to prove that we belong in Barça but instead, we lost to them.” A ragged breath. “And now we’re going to Levante. I just–”

She looked up at you, lips quivering with a whimper, “I just want us to go home.”

“Oh, Alexia.” 

Without saying another word, you put your arms around her, forehead pressed close against her ear and the hitch in her breathing resounded loud and clear.

“It’s frustrating, isn’t it, how far we seem from getting back?” Alexia’s back tensed in answer but you only hugged tighter. “But that’s not true at all.”

You felt Alexia lift her head and you moved away just enough to see how she eyed you with confusion. You gave her a small smile as you grazed your knuckles over her tear-stained cheek.

“On top of your club activities, your national performance has been nothing short of exemplary. Those matter. And with all the articles they’ve been writing about you, it’s only a matter of time now.” Brightening your tone a little, you added with a playful smile, “you probably won’t finish your season with Levante before Barça gets their hands on you.”

A corner of her lips lifted up upon your remark so you pushed on.

“I know it’s not the same as being in Barça, but what you’ve achieved so far has got to count for something, Alexia. Your father… he’s so, so proud of you.” Your tone shifted, now firm. “And I doubt he’d be happy to know that his daughter is pushing her body past the point of injury to get into Barça. You know your mother and sister have been covering your ass, right? Uh-huh, yeah, I thought so.”

“You need to let yourself breathe,” you kissed her temple, then her shoulder. When your eyes met again, you found a soft look in hers that reminded you of when you were younger. Smoothing her hair again, you asked, “Can you do that, Alexia? Not for us, but for yourself?”

Alexia regarded you for a long, silent moment. Then she closed her eyes, opened them a breath later, and nodded, her lips curling up to a sincere smile. In response, you couldn’t help but grin back at her.

Sensing that her mood had elevated, you placed one last kiss on her temple before you reached over her, towards the lamp to turn it off, leaving your room illuminated by the blue glow of the moon. Alexia needed no guidance to rest her head against your chest and immediately, you wrapped your arms around her. She sighed deep in the crook of your neck and you were filled with a sense of belonging—of wholeness.

Your eyes fluttered shut to the rhythm of  Alexia’s heartbeat pressed against your side.

“I’m sorry”, came the whisper.

“What for?”

“I shouldn’t have said what I did, about you not understanding. That was wrong, and I know all of this means everything to you like the way it means everything to me.”

“I appreciate that, Alexia. Don’t worry about it.” 

“And I’m sorry for—”

“Ale,” you mumbled, pressing a kiss on her crown, “you don’t have to apologise for anything.”

A pause before a deep exhale heated up your neck.

“Thank you, then.”

You hummed, already halfway to dreaming. And with one last reassuring squeeze at her hip, you found yourself murmuring, “I got you. Good night, Ale.”

“Good night,” Alexia said with a kiss to your neck and you slept with a smile on your lips.

[4]

“Alexia! Can you please—Shit!” 

It was too late. 

The box on top of the one you were carrying slid and fell, and all you could do was cringe as it spilled all of your toiletries by the front door. 

“Oops, sorry.”

You turned to Alexia with a glare of slight annoyance, but when you saw her sheepish expression, with the corners of her mouth pulled down and an eye twisted to a flinch, you let it go. With a roll of your eyes and a slight shake of your head, you signaled for her to proceed ahead as you held the door open with your weight. Once inside, she settled her boxes down on the tiled floor, letting out a small grunt as she did so, before she took yours. 

You’d just finished picking up the toiletries when Alexia asked, “That’s the last of it, yes?”

Turning to face her, you saw her wipe the sweat off her temples before settling her hands on her hips. She scanned the would-be living room occupied by some stacks of boxes. Apart from the couch and mattresses, almost everything else needed to be unpacked and organised.

You placed the toiletries on the nearest counter and made a beeline for the couch. On your way, you patted her back and replied. 

“Yep. Just let me take five, and then we can open ‘em up.”

You face-planted on the couch with a groan, which then turned to a sigh not a second later. Those boxes took more from you than you’d anticipated, making the stiffness of the couch feel as soft as clouds to your bones. 

The strain from your eyes began to dissipate the moment your eyes fluttered shut, and you could feel the peace that awaited you in that velvet darkness when you were ripped back to wakefulness the moment a warm, crushing weight pressed onto your spine. 

Alexia had taken it upon herself to drape herself over you like you were the couch itself. 

“What—Alexia!” You yelped, “Get off me!” 

But of course, she did the exact opposite.

“Why? I was just getting comfortable,” Alexia deadpanned. 

She shifted on your back and she at least had the decency to prevent her elbows from digging into your back as she did. The next thing you knew, her front followed the curve of your back, blanketing you in her warmth, while her arms wrapped loosely around your waist.

Your heart thundered in your chest and you tried not to think too hard about it so you snorted out, “I hope you’re comfortable.”

“Since you asked, yes. I very much am, thank you.” 

“You’re so annoying.” 

“I carried those boxes for you.” 

“You didn’t have to if you didn’t make me drop the toiletries.”

“I told you to tape up the box, but you didn’t listen to me, so whose fault is it exactly?”

You rolled your eyes. She was right, but you weren’t about to tell her that. 

“You’re impossible.”

“Impossibly right, yes.”

See? You didn’t have to tell her. 

You scoffed, “Why do I even put up with you?”

“Because you love me,” Alexia said in a matter-of-fact tone that made your heart jump. “Now shush. Let’s nap for a bit and then unpack.”

Alexia yawned, snuggling closer into you. If she heard the way your heart pounded, she didn’t comment on it. As you drifted into a warm slumber, there was weight that pressed against your chest—a realization of some sort—but about what, you didn’t know. 

Only after you woke to find Alexia had unpacked the boxes containing essential items and ordered a bag-full of takeaways; only after the both of you finished dining on paper plates, crossed-legged on the tiled, living room floor, laughing with your mouths full when Alexia made a mess of her food because of her inability to use chopsticks; only after Alexia found her Polaroid camera and took photos of the two of you, her arm slung casually over your shoulder, her lips pressed against your cheek. Then, and only then, did you recognise what that weight was for what it was. 

You knew then: you were utterly and irrevocably gone.

You were in love.

And you could only pray that the heat from your cheeks wouldn’t sell you out. 

[5]

With all the changes that came with moving shelters and clubs, there was no time to think about home. Between getting used to your new club schedules, being acquainted with your new coaches and teammates, and familiarising yourself with the local area, your mind had no energy left to ruminate by the end of the day. And the difference between staying over at Alexia’s—or vice versa—for a few nights and living under the same roof together for the foreseeable future became increasingly obvious as you settled in your apartment in Buñol. 

It was all new but the both of you managed and even somehow established a sort of routine. While you did most of the cooking and half of the cleaning, Alexia did the groceries and, thanks to her natural affinity for the sun—her words, not yours—she insisted on doing the laundry. You teased her about it but more often than not, her weather predictions proved accurate to the forecast, saving the both of you the trouble of dealing with damp clothes. 

But as routine fell into place, so did the yearning for home.

The thing about missing home was that it brought on a different kind of longing. It was the kind that burrowed deep, the kind that dug a gaping hole in your chest and left you at a loss for how to fill it. It provoked the desire to turn back the hands of time, live in a memory, and step back into a moment already gone by. 

Yes, there was a sense of freedom that came with living apart from your family, and sure the distance between Buñol and Mollet was only a three-hour drive or a five-hour train ride away. All of those things are true, but you’d be lying if you said being away from home didn’t feel heavy. 

No more was the comforting presence of your parents at hand nor the jovial company of Alexia’s family nearby; it was just you and Alexia.

And the world never felt bigger than it was now. 

You were lucky, though, to have Alexia with you. She was a piece of home that you took with you, and just having her by your side helped ease the ache somehow. But you have to admit, living with her brought on a different kind of pain. 

Ever since you realized just how deep your feelings for her ran, being around her had only gotten more difficult. Everything and everywhere reminded you of her, and everything she did would send a jolt to your heart that left you breathless. Something as simple as her running her fingers through her hair, or a small smile; a brush against your cheek, a hand against the small of your back—you were sure you were this close to going mad.

The intensity and frequency of these… stutters had only seemed to increase by the day, and frankly, it was beginning to scare you. That, and the questions that had been nagging you lately.

What would Alexia do if she found out that you liked her way more than a friend should? That you liked women? Could Alexia like women? She probably didn’t. She would hate you for this, wouldn’t she? What about your parents? How would you even go about telling them? Would they still love you? What if—

The sound of the key being slotted into the lock, followed by the opening and closing of the door cut your thoughts short. And then came a soft sound, barely audible.

“Alexia?” 

You called out but there was no response so you padded over to the living room. Just before the end of the corridor a small movement caught your eye. You couldn’t help the gasp that escaped your lips even if you tried.

“What—”

The kitten mewled softly again, rubbing itself against the beige tone of the walls as it took you in with those large, yellow eyes. Its coat looked bright and pristine, nearly as white as the petals of the tree heath flowers that bloomed at home in spring. The same flowers that filled the garden of your home with their sweetness. 

“Hey, there. How did you get in here?” You cooed, crouching slowly, before you reached out your hand towards the kitten. It took a cautious step back but you waited patiently, keeping your hand where it was. A moment later, it seemed to have found the courage, stepping forward tentatively to sniff at your finger, before it licked your knuckle. Then it ducked down, nuzzling its head against your palm, its eyes closing from the contact. 

Warmth flooded your chest and you whispered, “Oh, you’re so adorable!”

“She’s yours.”

Your eyes flicked up to find Alexia leaning her weight against the wall, her arms crossed, head tilted slightly to the side; her eyes lidded with something you couldn’t quite recognise but you felt their warmth. The soft smile on her lips made her face look radiant and beneath her gaze, you couldn’t help the heat that rushed to your cheeks.

As an excuse to hide your face, you dipped down your chin to pick the kitten who only yawned in response. 

“Mine?” You asked as you stood up and walked over to where Alexia was, stopping just an arm’s length away.

Alexia only hummed in agreement, her smile still as soft as ever.

At that, you reached and draped your free arm around her neck, whispering against her ear, “Thank you.”

She moved, finally, wrapping her arms around your waist to pull you closer.

“You’re welcome.” Her words, murmured though as they were, curled through the smile you knew she still wore and made their home in your heart. 

“What are you going to name her?” Alexia asked.

“Nona.”

“Nona?”

You hummed in confirmation. You pulled away just enough to make space to look at Nona, and you tried hard not to focus too much on how Alexia had settled her hands on your hips. 

“Mamá, Papá, me” you began, putting up a digit on your free hand as you listed each one, “You, Alba, Eli, Jaume, Guille…”

“And Nona,” Alexia finished for you, smiling down at Nona. Alexia met your eyes again.

“Your family of nine?”

“Mine,” you nodded, “And yours, too.” 

Alexia beamed down at you but then she scrunched her nose. 

“Does Guille need to be there?”

“Alexia!” 

[6]

It was raining when Alexia told you.

On a damp Monday night, a few months following your move to Levante—after the both of you found an apartment in Buñol, and after that fateful day of realisation—she said something that changed everything. 

Throughout the day, you couldn’t help but notice how strange Alexia was behaving. She’d twisted and fiddled with the hem of her jersey during today’s practice enough that she’d torn a hole through one spot. She’d twirled that loose lock of her hair so many times that you’d already lost count, and on the drive home, more than once, sped through a yellow sign. Even now, she was silent beside you as she helped cook the meal for you two tonight when usually, she would have gone over what happened at practice twice at this point. 

And at the rate she was going, she’d end up gnawing off the skin of her lower lip. 

“Why don’t you go ahead and clean up first?” You said as casually as you could, taking both of your plates off the table and moving towards the sink.

Alexia eyed you. 

“Is everything alright?” She asked. You caught a sight of her over your shoulder, sitting up, more alert than a second ago. 

“No, nothing. Why do you ask that?”

A pregnant pause.

“Because you normally let me help with the dishes.”

You shrugged, turning back to the sink. “Seriously, Alexia. It’s nothing. You just look tired. Now go so I can shower. We can put on AHS after.”

Another pause and then finally, you heard the scrape of her chair against the tiles.

“Alright,” she mumbled before her footsteps receded.

Much later, when you’d finished cleaning up and showered, the two of you wounded up on the couch, wrapped in each other with an episode of American Horror Story playing in the background. Alexia’s head was tucked in the crook of your neck while you played with a loose lock of her hair when you finally asked her.

“Are you ready to tell me what you’ve been worrying about all day, or should I keep pretending that I haven’t noticed?” 

You kept your tone light, almost teasing, because you had a feeling that whatever Alexia was about to say had weight to it. And surely enough, as soon as the question had left your mouth did Alexia stiffen against you and her breathing stilled. It took her another moment to pull away, untangling herself from you, before she reclined against the couch. 

Without so much as looking at you, she countered, “Could you hate me?”

The question jarred you and you couldn’t help but frown in confusion. What kind of question was that? You looked at her—searching for answers as to why she would ask such a thing—but Alexia kept her eyes fixed to the TV while the flashing images made shadows play on the smooth neutrality of her forehead and cheeks. You found no answer, so you replied truthfully. 

“No. Disappointed maybe, but hate? I can’t think of anything that would make me hate you.”

At that, her shoulders curled forward, arms crossing over her chest, and her chin dipped down so low it almost looked uncomfortable. 

She said softly, “Just think about it.”

Silence settled—heavily. 

You gnawed your lip, turning over everything in your head, as you tried desperately to come up with something. But nothing.

“Honestly, Alexia, unless you killed someone, I really can’t think of anything else.”

“I—” Alexia started but a choke cut off the rest of it. 

The sound came out so suddenly that it seemed to reverberate, bouncing off the walls and resounded loud in your ears. You sat up, alert, fully facing Alexia who now had her hands over her face, shielding her eyes from your view. She drew in a breath, and what she released was something shaky. 

You’d never seen her like this before, and you’d faced more than a handful of adversities together. What could possibly be making her hurt like this? Your gut twisted at the sight of her and you were filled with an overwhelming urge to take her in your arms. Instead, you settled for a light touch to her knee.

“Alexia,” you began softly, “What is it?”

Under the shield of her hand, you saw her lips quiver. Then a tear ran down her chin.

You ached at the sight but you remained silent.

“I’m—” Her lips twisted to a grimace. “I—I don’t know how it happened I just—”

Another pause.

“I like women.”

For a moment, the air stilled; almost like a vacuum had swallowed up all sounds. And then something swelled: blood rushed into your ears, and, as if life had broken a shell, a flood washed over you, filling each and every bone; and it felt a lot like hope. 

The raw sob that escaped Alexia’s throat broke you from your epiphany. She must’ve misunderstood your silence because now, she’d curled even further into herself, palms digging into her sockets. You shook yourself, mentally scolding yourself for getting distracted, before you moved closer to her.

“Oh, Alexia.” She flinched away when she felt your arms around her but you only clung tighter. “Thank you, Alexia, for trusting me with this. I want you to know that you don’t have to hide from me, that this doesn’t change anything no matter how that voice in your head might tell you otherwise. You’re still Alexia, and I—I love you all the same. I don’t hate you, I promise, and I won’t. I’ll always be here.”

When you whispered those words into her ear, she finally sagged into your embrace, turning her head so it rested, again, in the crook of your neck where she released a sob. This time, it sounded more from relief than from grief. 

There, on the couch, you held her until she fell asleep. 

“You know,” you whispered in the dark, tucking a lock of Alexia’s hair behind her ear long after she’d fallen asleep. Alexia didn’t stir, and you continued to no one in particular, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

And there with your whole world in your arms, you finally allowed yourself the luxury to hope.

[7]

When you were seven, just a few months before you met Alexia, an idea dawned on you. Sick and tired of the kid’s pool, with its small and, if you were being honest, slightly unkempt water, the large one next door offered freedom—a tantalizing concept for a child. You stood at one end of that pool and found a face of determination reflected back at you. You were going to do it; you would swim across the length of the pool and make it to the other side. 

And then, you jumped in.

It took about a minute or two before your muscles started burning, hardening to a cramp with every stroke, and yet the other side didn’t look any closer. That was when it sank in; the pool was far too large. There was a brief moment when you gasped for air and remembered to swim towards the nearest edge, just like your father taught you, but by that point it was already too late.

Water rushed into your nose and mouth, bringing stinging hopelessness in their wake, clogging your throat with a muffling silence that stifled your scream.

Your father barely caught you in time.

Yes, you remembered all too well that burn in your lungs. 

If that pool was a frozen lake, what would drowning feel like? 

In Barcelona, the lakes never froze in winter. Even the westerly winds that brought the Atlantic squalls slithering under each door in the city in cold February weren’t enough to make the chill settle in. The only time your bones truly felt the bitter meaning of winter was when you’d gone to Norway to attend a relative’s funeral, and the occasion did nothing to lessen the cold. It was also the first time you’d ever stepped foot on ice, and the fear that lanced through you at the sound of the first crack—seemingly almost like a thunder out of the blue—left you rooted to the spot, fearful that a breath could put you under.

Waiting for death felt just like that; like walking on a slate of ice. 

And the aftermath? 

A drowning of a different kind.

Every phone call was a step on that thin slate of ice; every step a space closer to certainty, each one a crack on that fragile surface, another moment closer to a falling in. The thing was, death was as true as the ice giving way but no matter how inevitable the end may be, or how slow the unfurling of that mortal coil may seem, the force of the fall was no less devastating. The ice would shatter and there would be a split-second when you’d feel suspended, held by a single thread of hope for one last miracle—the only miracle that mattered—but there was no saving you from the freezing waters. 

And nobody ever told you about how quickly you would sink under; about how the cold would bite their way down to the bones while your blood sang that familiar rhythm of life, a bitter reminder of the clear division between past and present—the antecedent and the aftermath; and just how painful it would be to be stuck in-between remembering what once was and what could have been.

In that space, in that frigid depth, no amount of screaming nor air could prevent you from drowning. Without the arms of a father to save you, how could you not drown?

And the worst part?

There was no bottom to grief; you either float or sink in that frozen lake.

And Alexia sank. 

[8]

Days passed, weeks, then months; the world kept turning. Life demanded you to be present and compelled you to move forward like everyone else. And yet still, even after changing everything in its wake, grief lingered as it always did. 

There were still times when you’d catch Alexia turn from every mirror, eyes casted down almost out of fear of what she’d see. How could you look at your reflection when every bit of skin there held the reminders of what you’d lost? Every reminder brought with it a memory, and what were memories if not a mouth full of teeth? It was a mouth that took every opportunity to bare its teeth, to gnaw at that hole in your chest until the edges were raw again—like they never healed to begin with. Again and again, it bit; its teeth, painting themselves red.

But if anything could transcend time itself, it was the resilience of the human spirit. Even if her father was never far from her mind, Alexia pressed forward; now for two hearts instead of one. 

Winter ended finally, and the sun rose again. And when summer arrived, so did the news. 

“Llorens spoke with me today,” Alexia spoke over the running of the tap. You looked at her over your shoulder, she was leaning against the frame of the kitchen door. She said the next part in a tone so soft that you barely caught it.

“He said… They asked me to rejoin Barça.”

Your eyes widened and it only took you a moment before you ran to her, wrapping your arms around Alexia’s neck, while Alexia returned the embrace by putting her arms around your waist. 

“Holy shit, Alexia! That’s amazing!” You practically screamed into her ear. Pulling away to look at her, you found pride shining in her eyes but for reasons you couldn’t quite understand, there was a weight that burdened the corners of her lips. You knew just how much this meant to her, getting back into Barça, and it worried you that she wasn’t celebrating like you’d expected her to.

You asked gently, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

At that, she sighed heavily, tightening her hold around your waist as she did. She gnawed at her lower lip, brows creasing.

“You haven’t heard anything from them?”

“No,” you admitted, ignoring the twinge in your chest. “It doesn’t matter, Alexia. This is your opportunity to go back. When are you due to leave?”

“I—I told them I’d get back to them tomorrow.”

Your eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets.

“What! Alexia, what’s gotten into you?”

“I don’t want to leave you alone.”

Finally, you recognised what it was that was casting its familiar shadows in her eyes: worry. Although you were grateful that she was, it was completely unnecessary and borderline irrational. She shouldn’t throw away what she worked hard for because you couldn’t perform at the same level, and no way in hell would you let her feel bad for your own inadequacy. 

You took her face into your hands, looking into her eyes as you enunciated each word slowly.

“Alexia, listen to me. You will meet with Llorens first thing tomorrow, and you will put that pen to paper, do you hear me? And then you will leave Levante without me—” when she opened her mouth, as if to protest, you pressed a finger to her lips. “You will leave Levante without me, and you will play for Barça come this season. There are no ‘buts’ here, Alexia. You have to do this. You owe yourself that much.”

Alexia remained quiet but she looked at you with large eyes that made your heart ache the way it always did for her. 

And then, “What about you?”

“I will work twice as hard. And I will meet you there,” you whispered, losing yourself in the depth of her eyes. “I promise.”

Alexia nodded and slowly, a smile made its way onto her lips.

“You better.” She mumbled. Then she added playfully, “Now get your hands off of my face, you’ve made it all wet.”

You flashed her a devilish grin before you wiped one of your hands down her face. 

[9]

It wasn’t until a month after your first game with Barça that you saw Diana again. 

With her line of work, it was no surprise that she was an incredibly busy person. That meant her stays in Barcelona were brief enough that she couldn’t make it to any friendly hangouts the way your other friends’ partners could, only ever having the time for Alexia which was the most important thing. So when Alexia messaged the group chat last night that she and Diana would be lunching with you, Patri, Tori, and Mapi today, everyone received the news with barely hidden enthusiasm. 

And this was how you found yourself sitting at the head of the table with Patri sitting on the other end, Alexia and Diana to your left with Alexia’s arm draped casually over the back of Diana’s chair, while Mapi and Tori sat to your right. As you all waited for your food to arrive, you engaged in a light and friendly conversation. Mapi and Tori were a lethal duo when it came to jokes, almost having all of you keel over from laughter, causing the eyes of the other patrons in the restaurant to flit to your table, and you were sure you saw barely hidden amusement on the face of the waiter that served you. 

Lunch was going well—for your part especially—with all things considered. So you took this time to appreciate Alexia and Diana together just like this because you never got the chance to. And it was clear that the both of them made quite the pair; so beautiful that they almost looked untouchable. They kept their displays of affection sparse and yet the smallest of gestures held a thousand words. In Diana’s presence, Alexia seemed so happy and she had an air about her so light she was almost like the sun. 

You couldn’t help it, you smiled at the sight. Seeing Alexia like this was enough for you, and you knew this. She deserved this. If only Patri could stop eyeing you with worry, you could keep pretending that twinge in your chest didn’t exist. 

Everything was going well, but the universe—as it seemed to become accustomed to lately—was adamant to prove you wrong. Or, maybe you should’ve just crushed your feelings under foot once and for all. It was when the food arrived that things took a turn for the worse. 

When the last dish was delivered by the waiter, Tori, Patri, and Diana fell in a conversation. Mapi, you spied, was not so subtly texting someone beneath the table—Ingrid, you guessed, by the way her eyes shone and her nose crinkled in delight. Alexia on the other hand was left to fend for herself… against her food. 

After all this time, Alexia still couldn’t eat properly with chopsticks. It was definitely the bulkness of her hands that made her clumsy with the delicate tools; you’d told her as much before. You bit your tongue before you could tell her that again. Instead, you teased her.

“Are you playing with your food?”

Alexia glared at you but still, color rose to her cheeks as she grumbled. 

“Shut up. You know using these things is difficult for me.”

“Stop sulking. Besides, I already taught you before.” You rolled your eyes. Then you instructed, “Open your palm.”

She pouted but she did what you asked anyway.

“Your hands are too big so you have to hold them at the very end. Let the bottom one rest in the crook of your thumb, yes, that’s it. And hold the top like you’re writing with a pen. Loosen up a bit, you’re too tense.”

You adjusted the placement of the chopsticks slightly, “Just close your thumb over the sticks and move your—That’s it! You got it, you got it.”

With a triumphant smile, Alexia finally succeeded at her attempt to pick up her food. And when her smile curled over the food she put in her mouth, a warmth flooded the cavity of your chest. The sparkle in her eyes just then somehow made you feel like a teenager again. 

You didn’t know what it was that drew your attention to her, but your gaze flitted over to Diana. You weren’t sure what you expected; maybe that she was still talking with Patri or Tori… only she wasn’t. She was staring at you with a face set in a stoicism so neutral—her lips drawn to a careful line—that you had this unsettling feeling that she was everything but impassive. Her eyes betrayed her the most: they were sharp, barely narrowed, and there was an attentiveness in them that made you feel transparent—exposed—as if she could see right through you; as if she’d found something. 

A chill ran through you, and you shuddered internally.

Quickly, you averted your eyes back down to your meal. Developing an excessive interest in your food, you receded into yourself and tried to school your face to what you hope was impartial nonchalance. A little later when you finally felt brave enough to chance a look at Diana, you saw her talking to Patri and Tori again, laughing and smiling as if the moment between the two of you never happened.

You relaxed and you found breathing easy again. 

Maybe you were just being paranoid.

But really, you should’ve known better.

[10]

Time, with its infamous predisposition to fly, had snuck up on you. 

A blink of an eye found you stepping out of a plane in the middle of August and the next thing you knew, December only had days to breathe. Ending the year at the top of La Liga, together with your clean sheets, was nothing short of a relief. It was a testament to how you’ve integrated yourself with the team so far, but you knew enough that this shouldn’t call for complacency. In fact, it demanded the opposite; you needed to work harder especially with the match against Lyon looming closer in the horizon. 

For now though, rest was due. 

Most of your teammates had either flown themselves home or somewhere far warmer than Barcelona’s dropping temperature. For those who stayed, like you, you needed to find a way to amuse yourselves without freezing. Tonight, it seemed that the club was the unanimous choice: what better way to stay warm and have fun than to get drunk and dance? 

That was how you found yourself under flashing lights nursing your own glass while you watched the rest of your team get their freaks on from the bar. You knew Patri was already four shots down—you all had only been here an hour; Mapi and Ingrid were getting a little too cozy in a secluded corner, which you couldn’t fault them for since it was Ingrid’s last day in the city before she had to go home; Alexia had vanished with Diana to do who knew what, while Aitana and Ona were losing it on the dance floor. 

Aitana and Ona spotted you hanging out at the bar so they began to wave you over with enthusiasm. You shook your head at the display, smiling, and made to move off the counter you were leaning on when a tap on your shoulder caught your attention. But before you could turn to see who it was, a familiar voice pierced through the music. 

“I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Standing behind you was a woman; the stewardess that ushered you off your plane. Out of her work clothes and the dull setting of a plane, her beauty shone through untarnished. Gone was the sleek hairdo and instead, she’d opted to leave her hair down. Her short hair barely grazed her collarbones, you noted, and as you traced their outline, you found the piercing in her sternum glinting in silent invitation. She was wearing a simple black dress that revealed just enough of her chest to entice, the thin fabric of it accentuating the curves of her waist, and it stopped just halfway down the length of her thighs to reveal the intricate lines of floral tattoos on her side. 

Finally catching yourself, you tore your eyes away and found her gaze. What you found reflected in them was amusement and you tried to stop your cheeks from burning. 

As casually as you could, you said, “Oh, hey, it’s you. I… actually never caught your name.”

“Micah,” she replied, extending out a hand. You took it as you told her yours. She leaned on the bar, waved the bartender over who gave her the drink she asked for, and took a sip. Then she turned back to you. 

“You know, I never expected to see you again. And in a gay club, of all places.”

“Why not a gay club?” You asked with a small laugh.

She shrugged, one corner of her mouth quirking up almost sheepishly.

“I may have searched your name up after I met you. No history of relationships, just multiple pictures of you with the same guy. I thought he’s your boyfriend, so.”

“Is it a guy with curly hair?”

“Yeah.”

At that you let out another small laugh.

“That’s Guille, my best friend. He’s like a brother.”

“Oh.” Micah’s cheeks flushed. 

You gave her a grin, “Yeah. But just to clarify, I am, in fact, into women. Exclusively.”

As if a switch has been flipped, Micah’s demeanour shifted, eyes now smouldering. The change affected you in ways you didn’t anticipate and with your slight height over her, it became difficult to keep your eyes where they should be, especially when the silver glint of her piercing tempted your eyes downwards. But just as the alcohol had thinned your blood, your self-control frayed all the same; your eyes roamed down to her cleavage which you admired briefly, before you met her gaze again.

That seemed to be the signal Micah was looking for because she stepped into your space, her drink now sitting forgotten on the counter. She dragged her fingers up your arm, all the way to your exposed collarbone where she traced the skin there while she watched you with dark eyes, her plump lip between her teeth. 

You shivered; she was so close now that the heat of her body washed over you. 

“Really? Prove it, then.” Micah whispered, ghosting her lips over yours.

You leaned forward when she pulled back slightly, as if magnetized to her lips. Then you asked, “How?”

“Dance with me.”

She dragged you to the dancefloor and you let yourself be swept away in the sea of bodies moving to the same rhythm. And then the both of you danced, her body against yours, your hands tracing her outlines as you pulled her closer as she did the same to you. 

Time blurred into a singularity after that but it existed again when, at one point, Micah took your cheek into her palm to pull you down for a kiss. Her lips were searing hot when they branded yours that you couldn’t help but gasp and moan into them, a sound which Micah gladly swallowed. 

It had been a while since you’d been touched and you didn’t realise just how much you missed it: the skim of skin over skin, the languidness of your blood turning to molten rush; how you missed the deprivation of air from your lungs and the delicious ache that came with it. And how you missed touching another. Your hands sought the exposed skin of her back, relishing the softness beneath your palms as you settled them there, respectfully just above her ass, to pull her in, flushed to your body.

She sighed and she looped her arms around your neck; deeper, hotter.

And in the heat, you lost yourself. 

You couldn’t remember how the both of you made it to your apartment, only that she ended up on top of you, head between your legs as you gasped out her name in the dark. And when she braced herself against her elbow, her other hand working you over the edge once more, you couldn’t help but note how beautiful she was with her curtain of brown hair, her lips slightly parted, eyes shining in the dark.

And when you came on her fingers with her lips on yours, you had a nagging feeling that this felt a lot like when you were nineteen. 

[11]

Clutching your head, you tried to soothe the remnants of your hangover as you headed over the door. You squinted at the light that shone through when you opened it and when the blob in front of you assumed a semblance of familiarity, you croaked out a question.

“Alexia? What’re you doing here?”

“Wow, you look like you’ve been hit by a truck.” Alexia teased but when you glared at her, she finally answered your question. She lifted her hand and that was when you noticed what she was holding. “Got your jacket. You left it at the club last night.”

You blinked at her, eyes still squinted, and enunciated each word slowly. “You drove all the way here. To drop off my jacket.”

She nodded.

“And you couldn’t have waited until dinner tonight?”

“Nope. The jacket was of utmost priority, obviously. Second priority, of course, is to check that you haven’t dropped dead yet. Third, to make sure you show up at dinner on time.” Alexia stepped back and gave you a once-over. “And by the looks of it, you need more than just a check up.” 

“Fuck you.” 

At that, her brows only creased as she threw her head back to laugh. 

“Rough morning, huh?” 

“I’m glad you find my hangover amusing.” You grunted, turning to shuffle back into the kitchen to make the coffee you were about to prepare before a clown interrupted you. “Close the door, you’re letting all the heat out.”

“Okay, Grumpy.” Alexia said behind you and you heard the door close. A rustle of fabric, and then, “Go drink some water and maybe then you can actually hold a conversation.”

You rolled your eyes even though she couldn’t see your face. 

“Shut up. I’ve only been awake for an hour.” 

“Sure.” Alexia dragged out her answer like she believed what you just said—she didn’t.

You turned on the coffee machine and pressed the button for a double shot. The sound of whirring filled the air.

“You want some coffee?” You asked, looking at Alexia over your shoulder who you found was not-so-subtly craning her neck to look down the hall. When she saw you looking at her, Alexia flashed you a questioning look.

“Are we alone or… ?” Alexia trailed off but before she could finish the question, you nodded. She walked to the counter and picked an apple from the fruit bowl.

“Oh, okay, good. And no, thanks, I already had a shot before I left home this morning.” 

You returned to your coffee, placing the cup aside so you could prepare the milk. 

Beside you, you heard the running of the tap and then a rustling of clothes followed by a slight thump. From the corner of your eye, you spied Alexia leaning against the counter. 

You just finished pouring the milk into your cup when you heard Alexia hum before the unmistakable bite to the flesh of an apple. Lifting the cup, you took a sip and welcomed the bitterness of caffeine on your tongue. 

“You know,” Alexia started, “you never told me you liked women.”

You froze. 

The lingering euphoria from last night—along with the excitement from Micah’s proposal for a next time when she left early this morning—immediately vanished. There was something about the nonchalant way that Alexia got you; it cut you deep. And the wounds you thought were long healed now bled through their stitches. A dot of coffee stained the white countertop, followed by another, and before your cup slipped from your grip, you put it down and pressed your shaking hands flat on the countertop. 

“What?” Your tone was tame but you were everything but. Pressure rose in your veins because how dared she. How dared she.

“I’m not mad or anything, I’m just surprised that’s all.” Alexia laughed lightly but the sound grated at your ears. 

“Was that a recent development? Did you find that out in the States?” Then she continued with a bit of guilt seeping through her voice. “If you found out before you moved to Angel City, I hope I never made you feel as though you couldn’t share that with me. And if I did, then I’m—”

“Please, don’t insult me, Alexia.”

As if finally detecting the ice in your tone, you saw her head turn towards you from the corner of your eye, but you made no move to look at her. 

 “I’m not insulting you. It’s just–I’m a terrible friend for never seeing the signs and that I couldn’t be there for you.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You scoffed but it sounded more like a choked sob than anything. The world blurred before you and you watched as your tears mixed with the coffee stains on the counter. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Came Alexia’s concerned voice before you heard a rustling of clothes, and then the touch to your shoulder. The reaction of your body was visceral: you stumbled back as you slapped her hand away as if she’d burnt you.

“Don’t touch me!” Heat pricked around the skin where she’d touch you, and you felt as if something was crawling beneath. “Get out.”

“What?”

Finally, you looked her in the eye and the force of the movement made your tears fall. Alexia stood there frozen, mouth agape, eyes wide and brows knotted in horror. You couldn’t care less; looking at her hurt and you wanted her out of your apartment—now. 

“I said leave.”

Alexia ran a frustrated hand through her hair and she pleaded, “Tell me what I did!”

“Get out, Alexia!” 

She opened her mouth, stopped midway, and finally shook her head. With one last look at you, she turned for the door but before she stepped out, she turned back to you. She sighed then said in a small voice.

“I don’t know what happened but I’m sorry anyway. I… I’ll see you tonight.”

With that, the door closed. At the click of the lock, you slid down to the floor; your back against the surface of the cabinets with Alexia’s half-eaten apple by your feet. 

She really did forget, didn’t she? And you were the only one who remembered because between the two of you, it was only you who cared enough to latch onto the memory. She didn’t care, and you doubted she ever did to begin with. Why did you think otherwise? Why?

Your face fell into your hands, and you sobbed. 

Stupid.

You were so fucking stupid. 

[shoogachi]

Doing a bit of a study

[zoomzooml]

Bumblebee overthinks late at night after a fight with one of his teammates

[scalpelsister]

Introducing Theodora Larson- my outlast trials oc! A 22 year old nursing student in the year 1960, who's just recently landed into the lap of Murkoff's project lathe trials.

template is by @chocohybrid, and you can find it here. as a note- language used in this file is meant to be as period specific as possible, including diagnostic terms from the dsm-1. as a result, parts of it are kind of a grim read, but I attempted to toe the line as best as I could. I also stayed up late to complete this, so don't look too hard at spelling or grammar <3

[neos-nero]

Domestic(?) Normal(?) Whatever you call this AU ideas/headcanons(???) because idk how to write a fanfic for the life of me

Nightmare doesn’t use YouTube, unless Insanity uploads an essay, game theory or random gameplay (he’s lowkey Insanity’s number 1 fan, but he’d rather die again than admit that)

Killer has set fire to Nightmare’s castle, Dream’s house and Color and Delta’s apartment!! He’s not allowed to cook - ever.

Dust likes to view Wikipedia pages in his free time. He finds it fun. Sometimes, Insanity joins in.

Horror blew up the kitchen once and blamed it on Killer (he got away with it)

Insanity once ate Dust’s cigarettes. He thought they were the fake edible ones that he bought. Dust didn’t tell him and bought another packet.

Error has beef with Insanity on Roblox. He doesn’t know it’s Insanity, but Insanity knows it’s Error.

Horror doesn’t like going to the park because kids keep asking their parents about the crack in his skull or just staring at him unblinking.

VHS once hijacked Killer’s laptop. It was later found on fire and broken.

I’ll add more if I think of anything else lol

[a-mossy-amethyst]

For the Malevolent writing prompt, maybe blind faith first kiss?

Sorry if this isn't what you wanted but alas, I am not a blindfaith shipper and love using religious imagery for angst

That being said, this fic has a lot of Christian (particularly Catholic) imagery. Take care of yourselves!!

This is an alternate scene for episode 38's ending, so some of the dialogue is taken from there.

“But when we get back, after I drop you off at the hospital, when this is done… this is done. I can't… our partnership is over.”

Arthur’s breaths line with the beat of his steps. He struggles to stay upright through exhaustion and carrying Oscar’s weight.

Said man's voice is ragged and weary, words lined together hesitantly as he struggles to form sentences.

“Arthur… you're my…”

Arthur shakes his head. “No, no, Oscar, no.” Guilt and grief crash like waves against his ribcage, a torrent of emotions amplified by his sleep deprived mind. “I'm not–”

The door, right before us, John chimes in, silent save for his directions.

He tries again. “I'm not… no.” He can't get the words out.

Oscar worships a god Arthur refuses to believe in. He worships like a lifeline, alcohol his temptation and the Bible his savior. A struggle between the pew and the bottle, the confessional his judge.

Arthur does not understand this. He had drank and hoped it would do him in. Hoped, not prayed. Even in the depths of his grief he dared not do that.

He does not seek redemption in God. The problem of evil is not an argument he is willing to have lest his anger get the better of him. Not when he is the evil allowed to live and Faroe's fate the tragedy God let happen.

“Arthur.” His name rolls off Oscar’s tongue like a prayer.

Arthur is not a saint; he will not carry his prayers to the Lord.

“I know you feel that, but it's not true,” he says, remorse draped on his shoulders, the weight of his sins against this man. “It can't be true. I'm sorry, but I can't help you anymore.”

He wonders if he ever helped him at all. Was his speech at the bar for Oscar, or for himself? He needed Oscar's assistance. The effort granted him that. Arthur is perpetually left asking if he wants to help others or is only interested in how they can aid him in return.

“Alright. Okay.” Oscar takes the rejection with the acceptance only the most devout can achieve. Sinners like them were not taught to question, only to bow their heads to the word of the Almighty.

Arthur is not a god; he will not bring mercy in exchange for humility.

The car is–

Arthur cuts him off. “I know. I can hear it.” He doesn't want to hear John's voice right now. He's giving this up for him, but it hurts. He can't get angry again. It'll make him feel worse about himself.

“Hear what?” Oscar asks.

“No, no, I hear…”

“Hear…?

Arthur changes the subject. “Rest, Oscar. Here.”

He opens the car door, gently pushing Oscar into the backseat.

“Aye.” Oscar sighs in relief. “Thank you.”

Arthur nods, moving to shut the door.

“Wait.”

He stops. “What is it?”

There's the ruffle of paper. “Here,” Oscar says, “It's where Daniel's Freemasons meet. You told me to… find out. I did. Forgot to tell you. Or, rather, I thought we'd end up looking together.” Grief tints his tone.

Oscar's holding a paper out to you. Just reach out– yes, there.

“Thank you, Oscar,” Arthur says. “Thank you.”

“Of course. You…” Oscar's breaths come out ragged. “What happened, it's not your fault.”

Arthur's heart immediately rejects the comfort, tightening in his chest.

He dragged Oscar into this, desperate for someone to rely on. If it's not him at fault, then who?

“Just rest.”

“I'm serious. I chose to help you. You're my–”

“I'm not your purpose–”

“–my hope.”

All the air is pulled from Arthur’s lungs. Oscar continues.

“You're what I've been waiting for. What I thought I could never have. I thought I could let myself believe that… maybe it's okay.”

Arthur presses his lips together. Nothing would be okay around him. Death surrounds him like a curse. Oscar’s already lost an arm. He won't let him lose his life. “I’m not what you think I am. No god sent me to save you.”

Oscar’s voice is remorseful. “You don't understand.”

“I… I do, Oscar. I can't–”

“No.”

Oscar is shaking his head, John narrates. He's reaching out, his hand shaky from blood loss.

Something pulls at his collar.

… Arthur, he's grabbed the front of your shirt.

“You don't.”

Oscar pulls him in closer. Arthur stumbles forward, caught off guard.

“If you did,” he whispers, his breath hot against Arthur’s lips, “you'd never have taken me along.”

Then he kisses him.

Arthur’s eyes widen. He doesn't move at first, startled out of a reaction.

Oscars’s lips taste salty from the rain. He presses forward lightly, characteristically soft.

Arthur finds himself frozen. He doesn't want to hurt Oscar by pushing him away.

But he needs to end this.

Arthur, what the fuck is he doing?”

John’s voice snaps him out of his shock. He leans back, breaking the kiss.

“I…” His grip on the car door tightens.

Oscar was right, Arthur didn't understand. He does now. He doesn't like what he sees.

Oscar loves like a martyr. A sacrificial devotee to his tragedy.

Arthur is not a romantic; Oscar will not find a heart beating the same rhythm as him in Arthur.

Arthur wanted someone to trust. He'd like to be trusted in return, but this doesn't feel like trust. Oscar's devotion feels like blind faith, and Arthur feels too much like a false idol. Pretty and promising but lacking anything to give in return for worship.

“You don't feel the same way.” Oscar doesn't frame it like a question.

“I'm sorry.” Arthur means it. Wishes it didn't have to end this way. Knows there was no other way it could go.

“Who's John?” Oscar asks, voice wrought with… something. A feeling Arthur can't decipher.

He sighs. “No one. No one you'll ever meet. Goodbye, Oscar.”

Oscar doesn't respond. Arthur shuts the door.

Arthur, what the hell was that? John asks harshly.

“I don't want to explain right now. Later, I will,” he promises. When the wound is less fresh, when he can talk about this like it was an inevitable mistake he made. Always flawed, always hurting others. Arthur can talk about it when he convinces himself it's in the past and he is still capable of helping people.

… Okay, John agrees. The lack of argument makes Arthur wonder how wrung out he must sound.

Cold rain beats harshly against him, numbing his skin. He takes a deep breath.

In. All his feelings, threatening to overtake him like a tsunami.

Out. He exhales. The pain is still there.

[livfastdieyoung69]

A LEGEND’S RETURN

(Husband!Randy Orton x Partner!Y/N)

They came at separate times so as to not alarm anyone, including their new, and once again co-workers. A sweatshirt covered their figure and the wrestling gear beneath, a staff uniform hiding their face along with their identity from other wrestlers, young and full of ambition, who wandered the halls.

It was happening. Of course, they had known so for many months prior but to be in the act, every step moving them closer to that one movement of pushing the curtain aside and stepping out onto the platform, music, and pyro, and fans jumping out of their seats, screaming in surprise and disbelief that they were back. Y/N L/N was back.

And for it to be their favorite pay-per-view of the year, besides Wrestlemania, of course, they were so grateful for. But to be able to experience it, side-by-side, with their husband, they would forever be thankful.

Y/N and Randy had met through wrestling, both rising to fame early on in their career in WWE, each known for their methodical attack method on their opponent and their ability to slowly bring their rival to the mat, shoulders down and to the finishing count of one two three, without them even noticing. Considering their same in-ring approach, they were paired together quite often, and in turn forced to spend many hours together.

Their partnership through work turned into a partnership through life, quickly developing deeper, and more passionate than either of the two believed they would ever be able to hold. Though their relationship was known to the public and quite obvious, both were seen as legends- each on their own, and together.

The crowd often shouted for the team to reunite or even just for Y/N in general, seeing as Randy had been in the company for a strong 15 years with no sight of stopping anytime soon but Y/N had unfortunately faced an injury, bad enough to almost threaten their life, and more indefinitely threaten their in ring ability.

But finally, after four years of physical therapy and continuous training, followed up by more training with the hopes of coming back and not having ring rust, they were back into smelly locker rooms so many others had been in before, possibly even them, jumping on their toes and shaking the anticipation from their hands with a energy they had missed for quite some time.

A soft knock rung on the wooden door, barely audible to those in and outside before the wood inched open a foot's width, a shiny, black wrestling boot peaking through before the face of the Legend Killer himself, a look of assurance and excitement set on his face at the sight of his partner back in their wrestling gear after so long.

A grin covered his face while he moved to sit in front of Y/N who continued their pacing, even at the sight of their very sweaty husband, who had just retained his title once again. His match had been shortly after another smaller one which preceded the mens’ Royal Rumble, leading Y/N to the realization that after a short promo, the women’s Royal Rumble would be starting and then finally, coming in at number 13, much like they had done many years before, and the temporary leave of one of WWE’s most loved superstars was forever ended.

Though even Randy’s presence would always, and (most of the time) indefinitely bring a sense of calm to Y/N it didn’t seem to do much at the moment. Their pacing was forced to come to a halt when Randy grabbed a hold of their shoulder, fingers gently feathering over their collarbone. Knowing no words would be able to cure their anxiousness, he pulled them in close with a kiss to the forehead while his hands were quick to find the curve of their lower back.

“What if they don’t remember me?” Though the words were whispered, the tension in them passed through the room as if they were shouted, maybe even screamed with enough intensity to break glass yet no one outside of the perimeters of the milimeteres between the two were able to hear it, muffled by the warm skin and dripping sweat of Randy’s shoulder.

“They were chanting for you last week baby, they know you and they absolutely want you back so don’t even think about that.” His rough but affectionately spoken words were hard to understand as well, neither wanting to end their physical contact. A strangled explanation tried to leave Y/N, but they weren’t able to express their worries so instead let out a frustrated sigh.

“You know they love you. I literally had to compete with the amount of love they had for you when we first got together N/N, I cannot even express to you how much they love you. How much I love you.” After a scoff from the receiving end of such sweet comments, Y/N decided it was time to part ways with their husbands shoulder.

‘Okay, enough with the mushy shit, I have to finish getting ready and then I gotta head to the gorilla.” Uncomfortable at Randy’s declaration of love, just like they always were, they pushed the subject forward much to the disappointment of his love for teasing them. After quickly finishing the final touches of their outfit and waiting in the small, concrete room for a special-made knock on the door from Triple H or Stephanie, two of the only people who knew about Y/N’s return.

Only twenty minutes of conversation seemed like forever, the lovers always able to get lost in each other no matter the circumstances, each of their ability to find joy, and laughter in their soulmate impeccable.

Knock, knock….knock.

Conversation was lost, and the sense of tingling appearing to the tips of fingers. A quick breath sucked into Y/N’s lungs along with a rush of energy and nervousness they had shortly lost.

“Guess it's time then, hm?” Randy’s question broke through the silence that had filled the cement room earning a hum of approvement, the sound echoing into the cold, empty room.

With a push of a door, and their husband following shortly behind, Y/N made their way into the crowded hallway with a confident stride, earning shocked stares because not only was Y/N L/N’s there, but they were in the same building as them, the same hallway as them, only feet away from them, and not only that but, Y/N L/N was in wrestling gear and the crowd was counting down, no other superstars in sight. Y/N L/N’s was back and they were witnessing it, firsthand.

Five!

Another anxious breath left them, tempted to once again start pacing feet away from the curtain that would bring them back into the WWE universe as their hangs began to ring together.

Four!

Y/N spun around, taking a quick look at the many screens and producers, the other superstars staring on in awe, at their husband, and the World Heavyweight Championship belt still around his waist, reminding them of their own success with the unfortunately abandoned Hardcore Title, and the Women's Championship Title.

Three!

At the thought of all of their accomplishments, made in independence and with the love of their life by their side, their small smile turned into a grin, the thought of how much they had longed to be back in the ring and how it was finally happening, their dream for the past four years finally coming true, nightmares of failing their fans and themselves never to return again.

Two!

Randy’s hand wrapped around the back of their neck, roughly pulling a surprised Y/N in for a passionate kiss from behind them, sending the both of them into a playful laughter, a whisper confined to the two of them even in the crowded room leaving Y/N.

“I’m back, baby. I’m back.”

One!

And they can..they can tell us we’re crazy, and we can say, well you haven’t seen anything yet.

The arena had never been louder, not in its 21 years of life, not in football games, not in screaming concerts with fans and musicians louder than life itself, not when Sheamus won his second back-to-back Royal Rumble that night, but for them. Because they were Y/N L/N, and they were back.

i kinda like this one yall ngl and yes i did use the ballad of the sleazy rider for an entrance again its just too good, ALSO this is at the 2013 royal rumble so were just gonna pretend thre was a womens royal rumble then too

also this took me way to long and i have 69 followers teehee

requested by the lovely @thedoveesquire mwah!

i think im gonna close requests for a lil bit and work on the ones i do have and then work on bones body soul and rnd for a lil :/

[t3ddyd0ll]

y'all i wanna get to know my followers so!! pls feel free to send asks abt urself or ur fave things!! i want to see!

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

How would the SVE adventurers and mages react to the fact that the Farmer gave peace to the shadow people by bringing the souls of their loved ones to them? We see Magnus and Marlon be very confused about why the shadow people are acting so weird (I.E not attacking anymore), so how would they and the others feel about getting the news that the Farmer just... casually brought peace between the shadow people and humans just because they could? (Also, sorry if I'm flooding your inbox too much I just really like your content-)

Please don't ever feel like you're flooding here. I'm always happy to see you and others in my askbox ☺️💕 Thanks so much for the question, hope you enjoy it!

Be warned - this post is so, so long....

_________________________________________

Absolutely everyone has noticed a change in the behavior of the shadow people..... In the mines of the Stardew Valley, in the Highland caves, even in the Crimson Baldlans. Everywhere this civilization resided, great changes had taken place.

A topic that became a furor for all the inhabitants of the magical world. The young monster hunters in the recent reports that the shadow shamans, instead of their usual aggression towards them, had simply... retreated. Where? Why? Mages have been discussing for days now that they have stopped noticing shadow people at all in their raids.

All of this did not go unnoticed, and the Ministry of Magic along with the Order of Pythagoras became very worried because of such a drastic change in the monsters' behavior. The Guild heads and the First wizard and witches already called several secret meetings in a row to find out who or what caused this event.

Farmer's friends and acquaintances were also there, puzzling over whether this was a dark plan by a renegade mage to gather an army of shadow people to storm the Crimson Badlands, or an initiative by the shadow people themselves in retaliation to humanity for past wrongs?

Few people realized later that it was enough to ask a young and chaotic farmer to find out the truth about all this...

_________________________________________

Aside from his complete willingness to protect people at the cost of his own life, Lance admits that all the fuss has sparked a genuine curiosity and desire to capture all the details in his book. He still considers the shadow people to be something more than a bunch of mindless and ruthless monsters and hopes that he won't have to spill anyone else's blood. If the pink-haired adventurer is lucky, maybe he can figure out what's going on with shadow people and finish his book.

Whatever the top wizards and adventurers accept, Alesia prepares for a fight. The battle sniper will start training the young warriors of Castle Village even harder, check all the positions of the main wall protecting the settlement, give orders to replenish the arsenal with all weapons, organize shelters in case of irreparable situation.... All hard work, for the sake of saving the people Alesia swore to defend to the last drop of blood.

If the adventurers under Alesia's command had a hard time with the increased training, then for those with Isaac as their boss, the following days became a living hell. No rest, no indulgences. "The monsters will not give you a second to rest or to be weak. Focus!" - was a phrase that had become imprinted on young minds during the training. But Isaac can be understood: he does everything he can to ensure that his charges can defend themselves and others. He doesn't spare himself either: training - sleep, training - sleep. That's his schedule for now.

Jolyne was serious about training her Guild members not only in the use of weapons, but also in battle magic. She has no doubts about Lance's ability to defend himself, but the wise woman worries for the safety of the younger members of The First Slash Clan. Especially if the source of the threat turns out to be the Gotoro Empire, it will be her Guild that will receive the first and most powerful blow from the enemy on the other side of the Gem Sea... So Jolyne can't afford to relax.

While everyone is making a fuss about the shadow people, Camilla has been using all her connections in the magical and non-magical worlds to find out what happened and where. Since the head witch doesn't want to cause any more panic (and also doesn't want the conservative old farts in the Ministry to get in her way), she has quietly begun her search for the cause of the monsters' behaviour. While her own search for the truth began, Camilla quietly poured herself some tea and snacked on sweets, smiling and pretending to take it lightly again so that she would be left alone.

Jadu will sit in the front rows of the meetings and listen to every word of the magicians of the highest rank. He is excited and intrigued - it has been a long time since such a large-scale event, covered with mystery, has taken place in history. And the young mage promised himself to be the first to solve this mystery! Naturally, people's safety is paramount, but Jadu, if possible, won't miss a chance to learn something new about monster behaviour or maybe even a new spell.

Magnus and Marlon were not as excited as the young Castle Village mage. Old and wise, they know for a fact that none of this can bode well. The one-eyed adventurer has sunk even further into depressed thoughts after the day he discovered in the mines that the behavior of the shadow people has changed drastically. Marlon is also worried about the young Guild member, lest they get into trouble because of all this. Magnus, on the other hand, is fully immersed in theories about what this could mean and who might be involved, but also supporting Marlon's concern for Farmer's safety. They're also worried about Krobus's safety, and wondering how to discreetly hide them from the Order when-

Krobus! Of course! And why didn't they immediately realize to ask their shadow friend?

_________________________________________

Leaving the meeting unnoticed, Marlon and Magnus instantly teleported to the sewers beneath Pelican Town, accidentally scaring poor Krobus in the process. After apologising, the purple-haired wizard and the one-eyed adventurer began to ask about what had happened to the shadow people?

''Oh, didn't the Farmer tell you? We made peace. Can you believe this? Peace, finally... With the humans. I didn't think I'd ever see it, but my people are no longer fighting your people. We have a chance to become friends, all thanks to the kindness and endeavour of our friend Farmer. How happy I am!"

Except that it couldn't be said that after hearing this, the old men's faces directly shone with joy. Of course, they both breathed a sigh of relief at the realization that there was no secret conspiracy here, and peace in general after years of confrontation between humans and shadow people. But the fact that Farmer hadn't told anyone about it made them angry. Very angry.

Oh, here comes the culprit of the celebration and all this chaos! Farmer had deigned to come down to the sewers, wanted to treat Krobus to a pumpkin. Except that the young troublemaker didn't expect to see their mentors.... with furious expression. In a moment, Marlon had grabbed Farmer by the collar of their shirt, while Wizard with a snap of his fingers, had moved all three of them into his tower, leaving a confused Krobus with a pumpkin alone.

When Magnus teleported in the tower, he had time to call all the people he had decided to tell for the outcome of the incident. Marlon let go of the frightened Farmer, and barely suppressed the urge to lightly slap them upside the head. He was proud of his apprentice and fellow Guild member's achievement, but not to tell anyone about the peace while everyone else was pissing themselves from stress and training. Even though Farmer didn't know what was happening in Castle Village and elsewhere, it didn't negate the fact that it was their duty to report such important events.

Farmer's familiars teleported over to them in a little less than a minute: first Camilla, as always the first to learn about the news, followed later by Lance and Jolyne, and then Alesia, Isaac, and Jadu.

Magnus decided not to feel sorry for the Farmer this time:

"Well, young one. Is there anything you want to tell us?"

Everyone turned their eyes to Farmer, who craned their head into his shoulders from the scrutiny. Sighing tiredly, the Farmer began their story..... The only difference, though, was not to mention Krobus, so as not to expose their friend to danger, and Magnus and Marlon were grateful for that. But outwardly they didn't show it.

_________________________________________

When Farmer finished their story, there was a heavy silence. With an indignant half-cry of "What?!" Isaac was the first to break the silence. It didn't take long for the profanity to be hurled in the direction of the careless adventurer who had taken their duties so lightly and failed to report for peace with the shadow people. Isaac was angry, furious. So many days of training to learn such truth? Sure, he wouldn't want unnecessary violence and blood, but what the fuck does the Farmer allow themself!

Alesia was more well mannered, but also spoke out with annoyance at Farmer's lack of seriousness about their duties. They should have immediately reported to the head of the Guild or other senior adventurers first. But they didn't think it was important. A serious lapse in discipline.

To be honest - Jadu wasn't as angry as he was intrigued at what the Farmer had done. Peace? With shadow people? That's so exciting! A whole historical event, and when the others are done with their scolding Farmer, Jadu is sure to ask Farmer so many questions about current event.

Lance breathed a sigh of relief as he realised that there was no dire danger. At least not yet. The only one of them to smile sympathetically at Farmer as they blushed under the onslaught of scolding. He, like Jadu, is very interested in asking Farmer questions about how they were able to accomplish what people in the past couldn't. Farmer is a true peacemaker, and Lance bows to the heroism and bravery of the young adventurer. But praise will come later, now it is scolding, for this could have ended in injury, or even death, for Farmer.

Jolyne, on the other hand, decided to cross her arms and watch Farmer blush with a predatory smile. Camilla joined the head of The First Slash and silently watched this funny situation. What was interesting was that both Jolyne and Camilla had guessed Farmer's involvement even before Magnus and Marlon left the meeting, back then. Camilla's connections pointed to Farmer having become suddenly involved in soul gathering at Crimson Baldlans more recently. While Jolyne had seen Farmer leaving the Mines the day the shadow people's behaviour changed. She had been visiting Marlon then, and hadn't paid much attention to Farmer. She should have. Well, all is well now, and she and Camilla are enjoying the comedic situation.

Magnus and Marlon have the last word, as the official mentors of the most chaotic Farmer in the entire world. Farmer were the most unpleasant to listen to their chastisement, with a face the colour of a tomato.

But after the heavy scolding, both mentors thanked Farmer for their exploit, not forgetting to say how proud they were of them. This made the Farmer's mind go even further into a stupor. Even though Farmer had not intentionally created this chaos, and the fact that it could have ended badly for them, none of the people present dared to deny the fact that Farmer had once again done the impossible and that they were grateful for this peace. Everyone agreed with Marlon and Magnus's words, even the grumpy Isaac, and asked that in the future if anything happened, to let them know.

So much for the life and adventures of the disaster Farmer...

[mossterunderthebed]

it has come to my attention that i havent seen Rise of the Guardians in Far Too Long. So. i decided to re-watch it (it really has been too long) Anyway! i had. A Lot of Reactions. so i thought id share!!!

be warned if you havent seen it: SO many spoilers ahead

Enjoy :)

literally from the very first moment this movie is SO nostalgic oh my gosh, when he hits that snowflake with his crook like the Feels are Feeling

okay the first lines of narraration have not left my head since i watched this movie the first time i need you to know that i need you to know how this movie has haunted me its so good okay im so hyped

oh my GOSH. the frost. the soundtrack. jack's delighted little reactions. his excitement. his boyish glee. oh my gosh im gonna CRY. do you have any idea how much i adored this sequence when i was younger. an unbelievable amount.

ohhhhh not the village. ouch. still hurts after all this time.

...i rlly hope north didnt get one of the licked cookies. ive always comforted myself that no they must have turned the plate to offer him the least slobbered on one cause they didnt wanna get in trouble either but in truth i have no way of knowing. why does this still haunt me.

ew ew no dont SPIT IT BACK OUT THATS EVEN WORSE

the sound the yeti makes back and forth with north lolllll

'the GLOBE???' love that.

'why are you always under-boot' lol i love wordplay :)

pitchhhhhhhhhh i hate you but as far as villains go hes a pretty good one and i loved his voice before i even knew who jude law was lol. hes a pretty standout character and even as a villain i think he was in like my top four favorites

Tooth's character designnnnnnnnnn it still slaps look at all her pretty feathersssss

SANDYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY i love him you have no idea

BUNNYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY OH MY GOSH i love his opening sequence SO MUCH he looks so cool and then-

'i cant feel my feet! i cant feel my FEET!' i LOVE HIM (also his accent SENDS me, Every Time)

'yeah you said it sandy' LOL i love how they all have their own unique relationship with sandy but like you can just tell they all love him and i mean valid cause how can you not hes literally the best

'i feel it. in my belly' iconic.

PRECIOUS NOSE SNIFFLES OUGH BUNNYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

lol the elf trying to get at sandy's cup literally i love sandy so much and that elf oh my gosh he makes me wheeze

'im dealin' with PERISHABLES!' u tell him bunny LOL

i love how sandy's trying so get so hard to get their attention; his character design is really really good and i love how he has this system of communication based off his sand and how emotive he is and-

FORK NOT THE ELF LOLLLLLLLLLL SANDY!!!

*snort* and the elf just goes *plop teeter clank* lolllllll

he's so done fr 😂 sandy i love you

'uh, i take it back. the groundhog's fine' BUNNY! that is your future husband youre talking about! shame on you

'all he does is freeze water pipes and- and mess with my egg hunts!' my ship-hunting brain (locks in immediately): 👀 theres a story there. and you best BELIVE im gonna be headcanoning the SHEEP out of it.

bunny reading jack the ticket -> cuts to jack causing all sort of mischief me: ...you are really not selling your case here buddy (ofc part of his charm is that he doesnt sell his case but im ignoring that for the sake of this bit)

'oh hes real all right. real grumpy, real annoying and realllll full of himself' 30k enemies to lovers with a side of fluff and angst GO

'no one honey its just an expression' ouch

why all these headshots? like im all for a good snowball fight but like. y'all are literally giving each other brain damage.

CUPCAKEEEEEEEE!!!!!!

lol jack comin in with the save

admitedly that always bothered me. to what EXTENT can jack manipulate emotions exactly? (probably not excessively i just find this concept to be unfathomable creepy, esp when used on unconsenting parties... its just a kids movie moss, chill your teeth)

'and- and-' sofa: my time has come! i know exactly what i must do *BODYSLAM* jack: oops :) ROFL

oh my baby :((((( he looks so lonely and defeated. jackkkkkkkkkk TT

SANDYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!!! you guys i love him so much this sequence is so light-hearted and sweet it makes my heart just. UGH. i love them 🥺

oh ew its you *blarph* okay but no lie this sequence i hated this sequence when i was younger but it was really elegantly done like the tap and then the way the dark sand just SPREADS and the unicorn falls and curls up in pain and then cupcake does too *sobs*

*hears thumping jumps* me: YES

blizzard of '68 what was the blizzard of '68 what happened at the blizzard of '68 im so curious tell me tell me tell me tell me tell meeeeeeeeeeeeeee

the way bunny scratches at his fur. dude. dreamworks did not have to go that hard with the dilf vibes and yet. here we are.

LOLLLLL jacks face when he sees north and tooth AND sandy AND bunny: 'and it was then that he knew. he forked up'

jack (sarcastic): 'yeah i love being shoved in a sack and tossed through a magic portal' North (completely genuine, just Vibing): :D Good! That was my idea! jack: 😲 ☝️ -> 😐 ✊ LOL

'you know bunny obviously' 'obviously' VIBES YOU GUYS LOOK RIGHT THERE IM TELLING YOU THERE ARE VIBES

okay but when tooth gets up all in his grill (and his mouth, dude what is that about calm DOWN girl) the first thing jack does is glance off screen and FOLLOWING the trajectory of his gaze THATS WHERE BUNNY'S STANDINGGGGGGGG YOU GUYS HE GOT OVERWHELMED AND OUT OF HIS DEPTH IN A NEW SITUATION FOR ALL OF 0.1 SECOND AND THE FIRST THING HE DID WAS LOOK TO BUNNY FOR HELP AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH

'lets not disgrace the uniform' what, FEATHERS???

love sandy's insomniac/narcoleptic tendencies so so so much i love that hes mute i love that he tries to 'talk'/sign too fast when he gets excited you guys you cannot comprehend how much i forking love The Sandman mr. Sanderson Mansnoozie you just cant its unreal

'little man' okay kinda rude hes literally so much older than you and you benefit from his dreams and its meant in affection so i wont hold it against you but still. giving u the side-eye for that one jackie 🤨

LOL do u see sandy's face he was SO excited when jack froze that little cookie-bearing elf ROFLLLLLLLLL why does he look so delighted i love sandy and jack's relationship theyre just so hilariously ride or die for each other sandy shouldve gotten more screen time fr smh

bunny just looks. So Unamused (*laughs at his suffering*)

THE TRUMPET ELF ROFL

he drops down and practically cuddles his staff and his voice goes all soft and cheeky and he just sits there like a forking koala being cute as all cuteness fork you jack frost you ruined my life *shoves bunny at him and grabs popcorn* NOW KISS

oh no not the Man In Moon thingggg not a good look Moons 😬 i mean look ghosting a guy for 300 years AFTER you take his memories and leave him for... whatever the magical mythical threshold between life and death is? yikessssss i feel jack is rightfully ticked in this one tbh

'no offense' 'how- how- how is that not offensive?' ROFL

okay bunny woah, thems fighin words oh my gosh but you guys you feel it too right the TENSION there IS tension i SWEAR i ship them i do and i ship them FOR A REASON they have the most interesting dynamic in this whole movie (except for my bb jamie but like come on thats unmatchable the family feels are strong with that one this is different okay)

'oh hey phil' first name basis with the yetis cracks me up every time

jack: 'i always thought the elves made the toys' north: 'we just let them believe that' *signals to nod with Eyes* *WHEEZE*

'theres... a tiny wooden baby' LOL the whole talk about centers was cool tho very sentimental

'everyone loves the sleigh' bro im in it for the reindeer are you kidding me i wanna ride one of THOSE things somebody get me a saddle that would be the sickest thing EVER

'where are the bloody seatbelts??' oh bunny you sweet summer child

'i hope you like carrots' LOL

sandy is so cute oh my forking gosh his little 'whee!' motion 🥺

saw someone point out once that jack saw bunny was super not happy to be on the sleigh and deliberately let himself 'blow away' and it did actually get him to loosen up and banter a bit and now i cant unsee it theyre SO and im soft for themmmmmm

'hey little baby tooth, you okay?' always remembered that, cannot tell you why. something striking about the imagery perhaps? very colorful curled up in a very pale hand. dunno.

north: gives reigns to jack jack: immediately makes the demon deer Go Faster me (watching and eating popcorn): u kno North that seems like perhaps not a good idea

bunny does Not Play with pitch like if you think about how he is with jack and then how he is with pitch its like, oh wow okay he really doesnt hate jack but he HATES pitch

'go suck an egg' in jude law's voice is actually unforgettable dont ask me why it just is

bro u cant steal sandy's Thing thats called plagiarism. Not Cool

ahhhhhhhhh the memoriesssssssss jackkkkkkkkkkkkkk

the TOOTH COLLECTING COMPETITION I LOVE THIS SEQUENCE SO MUCH I CANNOT EXPRESS AAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH theyre so playful and cute and the BondingTM is SO *chefs kiss*

tooth: 'take it easy there champ, hes one of us! part of the european division. ca va?' mous: *angry squeaking and immediate resignation* LOL

BUNNY LIGHTING NORTH ON FIRE ROFL

THE LAUNDROMAT *LOSES IT*

okay dude the bit with the ENTIRE Christmas In A Room vs. sandy's one (1) quarter is just. i mean north some on thats just not fair. sandy's face is hilarious tho lollllll but srsly when i was younger i was always like. ????? for a TOOTH?? overkill.

NEVER UNDERSTOOD THIS. EVERYBODY 'STOPPED BELIEVING' (comes later) AND YET THIS LITTLE KID SAW THIS WHOLE THING??? WHY DID HE NOT BELIEVE? HE LITERALLY SAW THEM!!!! i dunno maybe they were trying to make a point about pure hearts and True Believers TM or some other bull but to younger me it just didnt make Any Sense zero logic *throws hands in air* (kid movie rules Moss remember? Kid. Movie.)

tooth i know youre cool and the only significant Female Presence in this movie but Please for the love of all STOP TOUCHING HIM i dont like how hard this movie pushes the one-sided crush agenda. like tooth could be SO much better than this narratively and shes not shes just not because they didnt care enough to make her be. thats a problem with the writing from the start and as a writer it makes me sad. boo.

bunny you are so proud and so cantankerous and i love you for that truly. never change

peter cottontail fdjksfhsk i love all the little nicknames

'he can see us' 'most of us' *sobs* i feel like this is kind of the first moment of genuine compassion bunny has for jack like yeah not nice to be the bearer of bad news but like. 1) hes so much gentler about it than he was even just ten minutes ago, not trying to twist the knife, just wanting to let jack down gently and 2) having the kind of compassion that will do the hard things and a) trust jack to be able to handle it and get back up because bunny does believe in him and have a high opinion of him even if he also has a low opinion on him you know what i mean? and b) not let jack keep hoping only to be crushed and have to swallow that bitterness on his own when he realizes that no, jamie cant see him

also why the fork didnt jamie realize 'hey thats a weird empty space, hey why do they keep looking at it, HEY there must be someone there, maybe i should ask about that' but no let the inquisitive kid who loves supernatural phenomena NOT pick on the obvious sure thats fine and keeps GREAT with the character! *grumbles over on the side* (im harsh with this i know i promise i do think its great fr and they did such a good job and im prone to many many mistakes in my own writing im not mad about any of this just kind of wish some of these details had been ironed out in production but anyway most ppl probably wouldnt think of this stuff or at least not enough ppl would care for it to be enough of an issue. anyway)

not sandy with the fists LOL 'with the dream sand ya gumby!' why is sandy so down for violence and why is BUNNY having to be the one to remind him to use his actual magic?? feel like this is just another example of bunny really not being just as hes presented but actually having a much softer and gentler outlook which is hilarious when put in contrast- which is probably of the point

sandy's so over ur sheep bunny just let him knock the dog out

oh jack. hes still sore from jamie not seeing him so ill let him have this but when bunny realizes what you did hes gonna whoop ur az also, so funny to me that jack rolls his eyes he knows bunnys full of sheep lol

the tapdancing carrot LOL

NO SANDY DONT GIVE IN TO THE IMPULSIVE TEENAGER'S OVERENTHUSIASTIC WHIMS- ARGHHHHH HE GAVE IN TO THE IMPULSIVE TEENAGER'S OVERENTHUSIASTIC WHIMS or maybe i should say dont give into YOUR impulsive whims bcoz for all that sandy's kind and supposedly floating above it all, literally hes like a rat trap, like the second you even breath on him hes doing something crazy or holding back from doing something crazy or no longer holding back from doing something crazy. he just always wants the crazy. why.

LOL love how sandy startles pitch lollllll he really is afraid of him frfr and you know i feel like thats another stroke of narrative genius, i love how sandys really unassuming, often overlooked, but clearly such a big personality and important part of the guardians even in those times when they forget about him and i love how hes the one who changes the tides and becomes such a huge deciding factor in the whole battle against pitch at the end i dunno it just gets my goat esp bcoz hes so different too you know? i dont know i just love him so much

OOHHHHHH THE WHIPS GET 'IM SANDY

lets be surrounded by demon horses with mama (my adoptive brother/mother figure (and i feel like it says something that sandy's a better 'mother figure' than tooth is when shes being NARRATIVELY PLACED that way for much of the film like shes a 'love interest' (vaguely/one-sidedly (*gag*)) AND a mother figure like pick one you cant have both and youre not doing either of them well))

okay that was a well-placed 'boo' gotta admit

FORK FORK FORK okay im sorry but HE GOES 'YOU MIGHT WANNA DUCK' AND THEN GRABS THE BOOMERANG???? HIS FORKING VOICE???? AND THE FORKING SMIRK????? THE FORKING EYEBROW RAISE?????????? HE SMIRKS AT JACK THAT WAS LIKE- THAT WAS- THATS AN EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED MUSCLE-HEAD'S VERSION OF FLIRTATION RIGHT HE WAS FLIRTING RIGHT??????? (he was ABSOLUTELY flirting- at the VERY least he was Showing Off and THAT my dears is MATERIAL) okay phew okay yea im good now *ahem* anyway wow gosh i love this forking movie i ship these two so hard fr fr go Bunny get yo man

OH MY GOSH SANDYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY NOOOOOOOOOO

JACK'S SCREAM?????

*the sound of my actual heart breaking*

he just LAUNCHES hims up there to get to him even tho its already too late im sobbing

BUNNY YELLS HIS NAME HE TRIES TO STOP HIM PITCH IS STILL UP THERE ITS DANGEROUS TO GO ALONE UGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

on the floor curled into the fetal position. like Pillbug

YOU DONT GET TO CALL SANDY LITTLE MAN YOU BEENCH THATS JACK'S CUTE LIL' NICKNAME FOR HIM AND ITS NICE WHEN HE SAYS IT ILL FIGHT YOU

go tooth tryna provide air support sorry our boy is so reckless hotheaded and dumb please bear with him and continue watching over him

oh SANDY. his FACE. hes so peaceful *sobs myself sick*

JACKIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE *sobs MORE*

i just love how north and the others are all so Concerned for him. what support i love them and their dynamic *weeps but happily this time*

hehe go jack (srsly tho that looks painful its like he stuck his finger into an Ice-Flavoured Electrical Socket TM)

hehe get WRECKD pitch

oooh get wreckd jack (yikes)

i love how pitch just goes WHEEEEEEE off the other side of the screen like seriously im cackling

hey but at least someone helps jack, pitch just Falls. too bad he lives :/

ah yesssss be bewildered at the strength of your own power jackie boy yes yes a Good Trope indeed

okay creepy that pitch figured out your center before you did (not a good look for a Guardian jackie boy keep up here) but also what are you laughing about you overgrown sootball you literally just fell seven thousand feet and had to stumble up off the forest floor. binch.

oh not the funeralllllll

WHY does tooth set her candle down ON sandy's little memorial thing bro literally NO ONE ELSE did that. it was symmetrical before you. (when i tell you that literally ALWAYS bothered me as a kid, ouhhhhhhhhhgosh)

okay they should've animated bunny's ears down for this scene it wouldve made more sense to show his emotion (just my personal opinion)

oh NOOOOOOOOOOO JACK WHERE ARE YOU COME COMFORT YOUR MAN BUNNYYYYYYYYYYYYYY TAT

dude the gentle hand-holding and the slow, solemn ringing of the elf-bells always Got Me when I was younger literally such a good scene

also the animation on this bell is really good

the number of times younger me replayed this sequence of the Frost Sandy i kid you not

'how can i know who i am until i find out who i was' okay first of all, phenomenal voice acting, that line is so heart-wrenching and beautifully delivered *applauds*

and second it is actually a thing that amnesia patients have a lot harder time picturing a 'future' and it has a lot of connotations about memory and such so this is actually a really good line in light of that (im p sure theres been more research about it but i havent gotten that deep into it i just know the thing about the future)

BUNNY COMIN' THROUGH WITH THE SAVE I LOVE MY HOPPY BOYYYYYYYYYY

i love him so much i know how this ends oh my gosh this hurts my heart so bad i cant continue

(i shall)

i love how jack is just. always Having Fun and everyone else is like 😵

THE SNIFFIES!!!! HIS WIGGLY LITOL NOSEEEEEEE!!!! bunny i adore you

broooooooo the things with sophie LOLLLLLLLL

'blood and gums???' ngl im with jackie think ur taking the L on this one Queen

love how bunny's like trying to corall the eggs elsewhere. poor babies. and poor bunny. hes so Stressed like All The Time bro needs an orgasm maybe that'll chill him out (ohhhhh JACKIEEEEEEEE)

'we dont have time! for children!' i LOVE how bunny just kinda Squinted like. a second before he finished like. 'uh. think for a second before you- and he said it. yeap he said it. *BIG sigh* yeah.' LOL

oh NO I LOVE THE LITTLE SNOWFLAKE SEQUENCE!!!! RIGHT ON BUNNY'S CUTE LITTLE NOSE *melts into puddle of JackRabbit loving goo*

okay ill be real bunny saying 'you wanna paint some eggs? yeah?' lived rent free in my head for YEARS. why? nobody knows it would just pop up at random times the voice acting in this movie is SO good i love the cast so much its unreal they all managed to hit every single decibel that makes my bones hum i dont know how it happened it just did this movie was tailor made for me i swear i literally dont know why i love it so much i just do

also the soundtrack slaps

all those Eggs- also remembered that sequence for a strangely long time

i love the Warren. i love Bunny. i Love. *plants a kiss on his sweet fuzzy muzzle but not on his nose cause thats Jack's territory*

also the bit where north waves at sophie- remembered that too. why did this movie just. imprint itself on my consciousness i can literally still quote half of these lines i have not missed a BEAT

'googie' *points* thats not a word

'okay thats little strange' says the one with the psycho elves and murderous deer shut up

'and im bringin' hope with me' i love him so much

oh my gosh my HEART stop its so sweet and peaceful

'not bad' 'not bad yourself' its such a sweet quiet moment between the two of them *wails*

awww theyre finally friends *heart eyes*

bro jackie i love you but settle down. overconfidence is not a good look on you sweetie. or anyone. thats why its called OVERconfidence

'which is why we need you here. with us (me)' UGHHHHHHHHHHH YES BUNNY his first time reaching out to jack why couldnt it have gone well *sobs* jackkkkkkkkkkkkkk

oh my gosh now they have bunny jokes thats so cute

*struggles to get kid on bed* *kid immediately falls off bed* buddy you are not as well-versed in this as you seem to think

*tosses blanket* yea real elegant solution guys

oh, no they followed it up with a sqeakie stuffie. fumble saved.

'we should get back' -_-

oh no this is just blinking heart wrenching

bro listen to baby tooth. PLEASE. (he wont and i know this and it HURTS. suddenly remembering why i stopped rewatching this movie. TAT)

okay no. stop. this is too brutal my HEART.

okay i cant do this im too weak. skipping.

~pls take a break while we fast forward through Agonies Untold. reminder to rest your eyes from your screen, use the bathroom, and drink some water! Mwah!~

oh my gosh i accidentally caught a glimpse of bunny's desperate expression STOP STOP IM ALREADY DEAD *curls into a ball and weeps* okay but WHY did that hit like getting punched in the solar plexus. Not Fair.

oh noooooooooo oh no oh no oh no oh no owwwwwwwwww

and theyre all gone *cries myself a whole forking river and floats away on it*

JAMIEEEEEEEEEEEEEE OH MY GOSH I LOVE YOU JAMIE SWEEPING IN TO SAVE THIS WHOLE SHOW OH MY GOSH I LOVE YOU FR FR NEVER LET ANYONE DIM YOUR SPARKLE SWEETUMS YOURE THE BEST

Jamie's poor friends. cupcakeeeeeeee. oh im gonna cry.

okay the one thing i dont get with this movie is the whole Belief system. like look i dont know about you but i pretty much always vaguely knew santa wasnt real and then when i walked in on my parents stuffing stocking that belief died and no it did not return the next year when i did not happen to see the same thing. it just didnt cause it doesnt work like that. like yea kids are fickle sometimes they dont exactly have long memories but theyre not stupid. and most of all kids require consistency. if you say one thing show them another and then say and show them yet another thing theyre not gonna 'Believe' theyre just gonna be confused. okay i think this is one of those moments where Moss is getting too investing in the tangential details of things and needs to take a step back for everyones sake. golden rule of fiction: Suspend Thine Belief

oh jackie. poor baby. all that and he still cant throw his memories. he just cant let go of that last sliver of- dare i say it?- Hope. *bawls*

fake-az voice with ur fake-az sympathy in ur own words why dont you go suck an egg pitch

'no theyll FEAR both of us. and thats not what i want' *goes BALLISTIC* FORK LITERALLY THE BEST LINE IN THIS MOVIE JACKIE MY BOY MY BABY IM SO PROUD OF YOU literally his Character Development makes me SWOON i love that line so much its literally such a banger stuck with me through all these years i have literally never forgotten it cause it IS it IS it really is its such a different and it means so much and its so true and im so proud of jack for LOOKING at what he wants most and turning away because no. no i may get what i want but itll come at their EXPENSE not their happiness and that not worth it thatll never be worth it and just. OUGH. theres something to be said for kindness and bravery and taking the hard road and making sacrifices you guys there really is there is its the truth. we go through such hard things but KINDNESS and LOVE they seem so juvenile but theyre the only thing that keeps us together because they keep us ALL together

HOW THE STAFF GOES DARK THE MOMENT PITCH GRABS HOLD OF IT FORK THATS SO GOOD TOP TIER VISUALS TOP FORKING TIER

'so BE alone!' FORK that is SUCH a good bad guy line forkkk okay dreamworks went off with that one

ohhhhhhhhh the stafffffff and jack's reaction and the way the angle changes and you can just TELL hes in such paralysing pain and confusion so much so that it even affects US the viewers ohhhhhhhh SO GOOD

the clicker-clack of the staff literally i REMEMBER that sound why is it so satisfying

jack (agonized, depressed, lamenting): pitch was right. i make a mess of everything. baby tooth: doo-dee-doodley-doo-*sneeze* oh, Pocket! Neato!

he had TWO SISTER and a BROTHER oh my gosh im sick IM SICK

oh my gosh his EYES. SO PRETTY. look white-haired blue-eyed jack is A Look but the brown hair and eyes combo slaps too

the look of absolute focus on his face when hes counting down for his sister oh my gosh. bro is NOT going to lose her *cries*

oh that girls got life-long trauma now. yikes.

jack (excited amazed wondering): 'did you- did you see that?' baby tooth (cold crinkly): 'uhhhhh. No. i can squeak enthusiastically for you tho' *squeak squeak squeak*

literally never realized that the reason the little wood sound happened was because jack was trying to put the staff back together wrong. like the pieces didnt fit so you got the crinkly wood sound. but then he lined them up right and it was fine. anyway. this is irrelevant.

YES baby you SLAM those halves of a stick together WHOOO no-one does it like you!!! (always thought he was a dork for that like bro. ur breaking the wood more. stop)

anyway epically cool scene. (the soundtrackkkkkkk) okay moving on.

'none of you can fly?' the way this line was read just. *gnaws on his voice* (except whyyyyy did it make me think of troy bolton? ughhh get that out of my head right now right now right this very instant)

moss: hey. hey pitch. no one likes a braggart. buzz off. and stop standing on peoples globes its rude. pitch: oh but its fine when JACK does it? moss: yea it is. it is fine when jack does it. yea i have double standards. biased and proud of it. binch.

(also rip that poor yeti lolllll)

okay gotta admit the sequence and sounds of pitch snuffing out the last lights was. that was pretty dang good.

dude pitch is SUCH a drama queen fr look at this thousand year old man just tiptapping his way to evil-dom. dweeb.

JAMIEEEEEEEE YOU RUINED HIS EVIL SHOWSTOPPING MOMENT HAVE I TOLD YOU LATELY HOW MUCH I LOVE YOU (bursts into cackles)

'you and i are obviously at what they call A Crossroads' LOLLLLLLL jamie you sweet adorable bun HOW did i forget this line i will never do you the injustice again

jack! bro! now is NOT the time for Watching!!

LOVE LOVE LOVE that BUNNY is the first one jack proved the existence of i just- i cant- UGHHHHHHHH

why does a lack of powers make north act like hes drunk

okay the developers/character book/whatever put tooth as having a small crush on jack but thats the biggest bull and i hate it so i fully refuse to acknowledge it. like. she loves teeth. he has nice teeth. shes professional enough to separate personal interest dont tell me shes not and ALSO jack has literally never acted anything special towards her at all why do i not want to see a girl whos legit older and more powerful than the teenage mischief man (who i love with all my heart but is absolutely still just A Dork who likes mcflurries and snowballs) have a crush on him when he's like -10% likely to reciprocate or be able to either even Realize or gently handle her feelings WOW who forking knows not like weve got PLENTIFUL material covering that ALREADY in the world *smiles so fakely the paint on my teeth chip*

'jack. he SEES you.' proud father moment OKAY SHOWS OVER. ITS DONE. EVERYBODY CAN GO HOME NOW *sobs in pillbug form*

jack and jamie are so big brother-little brother coded and obvs thats on purpose but it still gets me (hes so like his little sister im gonna cry)

BUNNYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY (*coos at him liberally but silently cause i dont want a foot to the face*)

jack's reaction tho im in tears. i love how hes not satisfied or laughing or anything, just concerned and worried and UGH my BABIES. theyve come so far. (also the twinkly music LOL)

'NOW somebody sees me. i mean where were you about an hour ago mate' another line that lives rent free in moss' head

the freaking. the skritches. bunny's little foot. i cant. he is still JUST as ready to throw down tho make no mistake (LOLLL)

'he made you believe? in me?' UGHHHHHHH and the little hapy nose wiggle and jack's gentle smile UGHHHHHHHH AND THE TENDER BUDS OF ROMANCE BEGIN TO BLOOM (just ignore me all the goyuu has rotted my brain theres literally nothing left)

off into the fray!!!

you know as far as villains go, pitch IS highly adaptive

aaaaand face-first into the dumpster. smooth, jackie. smooth.

pitch just casually tossing murder into the equation like bro i didnt even know that was ALLOWED this is a kids move chill out youre gonna mess with our PG rating

'i cant tell you how happy it makes me to see you all like this. you look AWFUL' okay admittedly. thats a pretty banger line.

NOT THE 'jack. im scared' UGHHHHHHHHHHH

jack: that's it! thats my Center! jamie: *squint* *confusion intensifies* me: jack. not the time.

LOL FORK i love jamie's surprised little laugh and then like immediately after like, 'oops was i supposed to laugh at that? oh wait santa's laughing too its fine.' LOL

also the way the nightmares look at each other like 'oop thats our Evil Overlord that just got a snowball to the face we didnt go over THAT in Monologue Rehearsal #428 what do we do'

jack u are going to have to pay this city DAMAGES. that ICE babe

oh my gosh not bunny in his little. his Wok. thats so hilarious i cant

'merry Christmas!' 'happy Easter!' 'dont forget to floss!' wow they are. REALLY pushing that Overbearing Mother Agenda in this one huh. hahaha. *grinds my teeth like i have unlimited dental insurance*

the actual girls are pretty good. not tooth, no, but like, with pippa and her nervousness, you can tell she tries so hard to be brave and really loves her friends. and oh. my. gosh. I LOVE CUPCAKE. ngl this girl has my whole entire heart her freaking- her UNICORNS? and her pink and tutu and her floofy nightdress AND her black eyelines and grouchy grumpy attitude and cackling laughter oh my gosh i LOVE her

'I will' 'i will' 'i will' 'i will' 'and me' *bawls*

'i-iii-i'll try' literally? *squishes him* i love you little blond nerd

'i DO believe in you. im just not afraid of you' jamie bennet you have my whole heart i love you so much you precious bean

WHOOOOOO! i remember watching this for the first time this was such a good twist

i love how its little blond nerd whos the most hype about north getting his mojo back. like glasses -> NO, SWORDS

'im just a bunny!' *immediately kicks az* bunny i love you. never die.

'g'day mate' isnt it just

why is bunny so cool. its just not fair.

'lets get 'eeeeeem!' cupcake i want you to know i would follow you into battle any day of the week. Queen.

the elves' freaking. ankle launcher. *laughs so hard i expire*

'wrong roof' ROFL

'theres no place left to hide' jackie. sweetums. admittedly not the best line to use against the literal Boogeyman.

UGH bunny being the first one to jack's defense against pitch here UGHHHHHHHHHHHH

SANDYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

the hope on the guardians' faces!!!!! the fear on pitch's!!!!!! yea you know when youre beat you dollar-bin emo (too harsh? on emos who shop at dollar stores maybe. nothing against yall, promise)

lol get wrekd pitch

yooooo sandy's lil hattttttt

LOL pitch doing a full bounce in the background FORK

i love sandy. oh i LOVE sandy. WISH he had more screen time.

cupcake tapping a nightmare's nose. UGHHHH the dream sand. the soundtrackkkkkkk. younger me loved this sequence SO much. still do.

there really is just so much wonder in this movie its a celebration of childhood and even if its cliche and not quite the reality for most of us i still love it so much

more headshots. ouch.

bunny just got Bowled Over LOL

okay that is ABSOLUTELY tooth's best scene frfr. i can be a grown up and admit she has a couple good ones even if she kinda rubs me the wrong way. at the very least her character design is absolutely TOPS

personally i feel like what happens with pitch at the ending isnt entirely realistic and also leaves a lot of loose ends but hey its a movie for kids just let them have this one

its fair creepy though *shudders*

THE FORKING ELF WITH THE TRUMPET FORKKKKKK ROFL

okay one thing i will say. this whole thing wouldnt really have been possible without jack? but like the reason they won was cause of jamie but also cause of jacks DIFFERENCES. he could do things the others couldnt BECAUSE he wasnt a guardian and it made him invaluable. and he proved that he was a guardian in his heart no matter what oaths he had taken because he loved fun and mischief and wanted to protect and care for the kids. because he learned to put them before himself. but then like. i kinda feel like the ending kinda undoes all of that? like it was very off-putting and dissatisfying for me when i was younger because i was like. they literally took away the thing that made him special and the Difference that made him able to help them the most and Do The Things they needed; that they couldnt. so they kind of built up this whole 'you can work and do good even outside of the recognized and structured 'right way' and then it was just like but actually hes a part of the same system now haha' and just sort of took it all away and i was just like. what? anyway. whatever. good for jack hes a guardian now its official he cares about people and kids. whee.

and the kids got to watch. thats nice. tho why the eggs were there? ive never really known?

elf #1: *celebratory cheek kiss* elf #2: *did not like that* *punches elf #1's face in* me: LOL (also. GET 'EM ELFY EXERCISE YOUR RIGHTS (your right to Not Be Touched))

bro bunny mellowed SO MUCH over the course of this film. i love that for him. and jack. i love that for him and jack. theyre gonna need SO much patience with each other if theyre gonna stick together in the future but thats kinda a big part of what i love about their dynamic that theyre the kind of people who can bicker and argue a lot but still love each other and be the most vulnerable with each other than anyone else like being able to just fight with someone like that and have faith theyll stay with you and love you and stick around to work things out is. HUGE.

the fireworks were so Extra. completely unecessary. Sandman i love you

i love how forking soft bunny is with sophie oh my gosh their relationship KILLS me *sobbing*

OH THE HUG. OHHHHHHHHHH *SOBS*

the animation when the sleigh takes off UGH they did not have to be that aerodynamically correct and yet THEY WERE go dreamworks POP OFF

that snowflake. the last 'believe it' UGH

BROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO SO GOOD SO GOOD SO GOOD HOW DID I GO SO LONG WITHOUT WATCHING THIS MOVIE NEVER AGAIN I LOVE THEM SO MUCH OH MY GOSH NOBODY TOUCH ME PLEASE ILL CRY

~

so anyway thats my *tallies quickly and chokes* SEVENTEEN PAGES worth of cents about this film holy crap

kinda amazed at how much of this movie i could still quote word for word like fr i remembered it so much more clearly than i thought i would.

anyway. yeah. uh, i cared more about this than i thought i would? *eyes the SEVENTEEN PAGES* maybe too much.

it was fun though! so i hope you guys enjoyed yourself as much as i did :) thats all from Moss for now byeeeeee!!!!!!

~

(credit to @strangergraphics for the little snowflake divider isnt it cute!!!!)

[silvertonguedcharlatan]

I want to run a durge cleric because it would be equal parts touching and funny, imagine waking up with cleric powers and knowing you at one point worshipped a god and you have to in the moment try to figure out which one it is and hope you pick right

AND THEN you very obviously do not pick right but the god you do pick takes you in anyway!!! Maybe it’s mercy or maybe all the gods LOVE fucking with bhaal and this is the best opening they’ve had in YEARS

Like a drow durge cleric of eilistraee, goddess of freedom and expression, would go SO HARD or any durge cleric of tyr trying to atone for sins long forgotten, they take durge in out of divine mercy and hope

Or a durge that picks another evil god like talos or umberlee because they know at their core they were made for destruction, they take durge in and immediately break down bhaal’s door and say “remember your kid????? I’m their dad now fuck you”

[cloudruler]

My city now. The dalish hunter gave Caellum a cute nickname because I said so-

[mika1683]

Usually I am the "Anakin was traumatised war criminal who wasnt cut out for being Jedi and couldnt be saved/fixed because Palpatines plans sealed his fate" kind of person

However! I recently became victim of my own mind (and fluffy Fix it au) and I want you to consider:

Rael could help Anakin if he was his master

They both share similar backstory, both of them were taken into the order when they were older, they both struggled to find thier place and have troubles with rules of the Jedi Order

Rael has healthy approach to casual relationships and seems to actually understand the whole "attachment is forbieden rule" (half of the fandom can't relate) even if he doesnt always obey it . He also talks about love as something good and natural between master and padawan. Of course he is not the most mentally stable person within the order, he has bunch of his own problems but I think that Anakin would benefit from having him around

Also they could bond over losing thier padawan after Ahsoka left the order. It would definitely help Anakin with his own grief and feeling abandonment

So yeah if I had to choose what thing could help Anakin it would be having Rael as his master (even tho palpatine would still ruined it)

[electrivolt]

It is a legend long forgotten and lost to time, from the age when the trio of birds still held their title of titans, still were respected and revered and feared.

They had once been the embodiment of their elements, reigning above them, their influence on the oceans themselves the cause of many disasters. The people prayed to the guardian of the sea, prayed for safer journeys and clearer skies, for the elements to be quelled and the storms to be still. The guardian observed the destruction its titans were bringing, and answered the people's prayers, sealing away the elements and casting upon them a mortal, yet timeless form.

The titans were furious as their power was taken away, and so their guardian answered. Only the trust of a human would allow their seal to be cast away and their power to return, for they shall learn to be wiser and shall strive to protect those who they were supposed to watch over.

For countless years, there have been lineages of people, warriors that have earned the respect and trust of the titans, forging a bond with them in order to guard their people. It was this bond that allowed the titans return to their original form, and its burden placed onto the human so that no one may use this ancient power to bring forth more harm and destruction. Without a human to trust, a titan shall never return to its primal form, and without paying the price for it with their own blood, a human shall never be graced with a titan's true power.

Time however, is unforgiving. As the years passed and as times changed, these few trusted lineages have died out, and with them the knowledge has been lost, the legends spoken in tales forgotten, and the titans remain sealed away. There had not been a human able to forge that bond signed in blood since.

[wickedviago]

Thursday Bangers

Thank you for another wonderful tag @fenrelmercar! You're really motivating me to write more.🤍

Rules: Free form a blurb or drawing based on the weekly lyrics prompt. It doesn't have to include the prompt just whatever you're inspired to write, write it! Then tag some friends so they can play as well. It doesn't have to be finished on Thursday just post it whenever you can (you have a whole week between Thursdays).

This week is a real doozy. Going maybe a little angsty and longing for this one:

A hundred days have made me older since the last time that I saw your pretty face - Three Doors Down

Passing this creative challenge on to: @taterdraws @lotusrhys @miraabellee & everyone else who wants to participate.💜

Things you need to know: I started writing a Solrook short-fic (read: 2 chapters) back in March, but never finished it. The first chapter is like 60% done and I have a proper outline for the whole thing. I just got stuck I guess. And hyperfixated on Viago de Riva.

In that story—Rook, Arwen de Riva, gets pulled into the Fade prison by their connection after grabbing the lyrium dagger from Ghilan'nain's body. Solas doesn't trick her. He couldn't. He's madly in love with her.

I used this challenge to write Solas' POV during the moments just before he sees Rook in the prison. The real thing (if I ever end up publishing it) is from Rook's POV and will feature this same moment and her thoughts.

Also, I failed successfully by writing more than I probably should've.

Time flowed differently in the Fade. There was no linear course for it to follow, nor—at this point at least—a way to tell the passage of time by the changes in the environment. The grey surroundings remained impassive, their movements and sounds already familiar enough to not be surprising.

For a mortal mage, being stuck in a place like this and not being able to notice the time-flow seemed like a clear path towards madness. For an ancient, immortal elf, who knew how to pay attention to the minuscule details around him—it was just tiresome.

It had been a while since Solas last heard from Rook. A strange amount of time that felt both like a hundred days and just mere minutes. It was peculiar how his mind and body reacted to the distance—more often than not, he'd found himself wondering about Rook's well-being, only for his heart to start racing and his fingers trembling.

Solas worried for Rook.

A most perplexing notion, considering how they'd essentially even found themselves in this predicament.

Still—the Fade had reverberated around him the moment Ghilan'nain was slain with the dagger, and Solas had—impulsively—pulled Rook into the prison.

She was his way out.

His original plan had been different, as he had, over the course many months, morphed Rook into a sufficient replacement for him so he could leave her here in his stead.

Now, however?

Solas had a new plan.

So here he was, sitting on top of another crooked staircase that led nowhere, and pondered over his relationship with Rook. And the fact that he had, unsurprisingly, made the situation worse by lying to her about Varric. And the dagger. And the Veil. And—

The subtle sound of footsteps caused Solas to look up, his eyes locking with her brown ones before he hurriedly stood up.

"Well let's get this over with," Rook said, her eyes narrowing as she studied his form with her piercing gaze.

Even if her eyes pried into his soul like metaphorical daggers and a deep frown was etched on her face, Solas had to admit that she'd never looked more beautiful.

Solas blinked twice. "Rook?" he asked incredulously, as if not fully comprehending that she was actually here in the flesh.

"Oh, cut the act, Solas. I know you're the reason I'm even here in the first place."