#clare greet

[badmovieihave]

Bad movie I have The Man Who Knew Too Much 1934

[letterboxd-loggd]

The Ring (1927) Alfred Hitchcock

March 18th 2024

[wosoimagines]

You Didn't Know? - Arsenal WFC/Reader

prompt: R is new to Arsenal after proving themselves at the World Cup, but there are a couple of hurdles they have to face before the team fully accepts them.

warnings: none

words: 6497

I will say that I am not deaf or hard of hearing so if there is anything that I've gotten wrong, please let me know so that I can fix it (I tried to do as much research as I could). Anything that represents sign langue is in continuous italics.

Also, this will become a series, so don't worry about needing to ask for a part two because it will be coming. (I think that this has honestly been one of my favorite ideas for a fic ever and I can't wait to continue it)

(Y/N) POV

I grinned as I got out of the car. I wiggled my eyebrows at the camera once I noticed it. Honestly it wasn’t too surprising that Arsenal would be filming my first day here. I didn’t hesitate to greet the people who were waiting for me either.

“(Y/N), it’s really nice to finally meet you,” the woman that I knew as Clare Wheatley greeted me. I quickly shook her hand once she held it out to me. “Congratulations. We’re really happy you’re here.”

“I’m gonna show you around,” the dark-haired woman who was behind Clare spoke up. I sent her a soft smile. “I’m Sadie Ross. I’ll also serve as an interpreter for you should you need one.”

“You know Auslan?” I asked. I didn’t always have the option to take out my cochlear implants here recently. Once Sadie confirmed that she did in fact know Auslan, I couldn’t help the grin that overtook my face. “I use a Northern dialect usually, but I do know the Southern dialect as well.”

“No worries,” Sadie assured me. She moved closer to me before patting my shoulder so I would follow her. “I’ve studied both dialects.”

“Cool.”

I followed Sadie through until we got to the locker rooms where I was given my own Arsenal gear to get changed into. It was obviously just practice gear, but it was nice to be in official gear from my new club.

“It suits you!” Sadie assured me once I stepped out of the locker room.

“I like it!”

“So, we’re going to take you on a tour, show you the grounds, show you your new home,” Sadie said. I couldn’t help but smile as she had started to sign the words she was speaking. “This is obviously the changing room. This is the technical corridor, so we essentially have all of our tech staff in here. Our head coach Jonas in this hall.”

I looked down the hall that Sadie had been talking about. I started to move with Sadie so that I wouldn’t fall behind her.

“If you come down here, this is where the medical section is. Stuff like physiotherapy, massages, cold therapy, all of that sort of stuff will happen here.”

I paid attention as Sadie walked me through where the medical team could be found along with any rooms concerning treatment were. Sadie also showed me where the meeting room was and assured me that she would be at all of our team meetings and regardless of if I had decided to wear my cochlear implants or not, she would be translating everything that was said.

Then we were off to find the gym. This was one of the places that I was most excited to find since I knew I would probably be spending quite a bit of time in the gym. I appreciated that Sadie had also pointed out where each section was.

Soon we were headed outside.

“So, this is where we come out to get to the pitch?”

“Yeah.”

I grinned as Sadie pointed out where the exhibition pitch was. I was sure that I would be out there soon enough. Before long we had made our way to the mess hall that they had. It was there that I met Mikel Arteta.

Sadie had disappeared while Mikel introduced himself to me. Then I got to meet Win. Who immediately had all of my attention as I moved to the floor to play with the dog.

It was ultimately drawn away from Win though as Sadie made a reappearance. I was quick to get to my feet as I took notice of what Sadie had in her hands. I took in the back of the kit that had my number and name on the back.

“Such a beautiful kit,” I said as Sadie handed it over to me. “Honestly, can’t wait to play in it.”

“Come on,” Sadie said with a chuckle. “Let’s get you changed into it.”

I did a little fist pump before the two of us headed out of the mess hall and back to where the changing rooms were. Once I had the kit on, I headed down the hall to the room that Sadie and I had passed earlier.

“How’s it look?” I asked as I entered the room.

“I’d say it’s probably one of the best looking kits you’ve ever worn,” Sadie said. I let out a laugh at that. Honestly, I didn’t have the chance to wear that many different kits. I had left Australia to go to the States to play college football for Stanford. Other than my youth club kits, the only other kits I had been in were with the national team, but those had been more recent. “Not too big or too little?”

Of course, we had to take pictures of me in the kit while I was in front of the logo that was on the wall. It had been one of the moments I had been looking forward to since it was announced that I was signing with Arsenal following my college career and performance at the World Cup. Then I moved to take pictures of me signing my contract.

The rest of my afternoon was filled with a photoshoot in a full kit before we headed to Emirates. It was pretty cool to finally be able to take in the stadium in person considering I had grown up an Arsenal fan. I didn’t mind the photographer that followed me around getting pictures of me exploring Emirates.

We even sat down for a formal interview before Sadie played twenty questions with me so that fans could get to know me better.

“Why Stanford?”

“Why not?” I countered. I laughed as Sadie rolled her eyes. “I dunno why I chose Stanford. I had played with youth clubs, but no one was looking to give me a shot with their senior team in Australia. I was smart enough to get scholarships to attend school in the States. Stanford happened to have open tryouts and I was just really lucky that I was able to impress the coaches there and they ended up giving me a spot on the team.”

“Was it hard?”

“Yeah. I was pretty much all alone in a country I didn’t know and having to constantly prove myself,” I admitted. My time in college, while it had been great, had probably been the worst time of my life so far. “I had to practice all the time while keeping up with my studies and even then, I would barely get playing time. Then we had the 2019 College Cup. I didn’t get a lot of time still, but our coach, Paul Ratcliffe, had taken notice of all the practice I put in, specifically with my penalties so when the game went to penalties, I got to take what ended up being the final penalty. I finally knew what the biggest shot of my career was.”

“Did it help you to prepare for the shootout in the World Cup?”

I shrugged at that. Nothing could compare to the shootout that happened at the World Cup. I hadn’t even expected the penalties to go on so long that I would even take one, but then that plan had collapsed, and I ended up taking the final penalty knowing that France wouldn’t have that much film on my penalty kicks and tendencies.

“Nothing will compare to my World Cup penalty. That has probably been the best moment of my life,” I said. I motioned to my ears. “I do kind of have an advantage. It is nice to be able to literally turn off all of the noise. And if you watch the play back close enough, you can see that I had turned it back on right after the ball left my foot. Being able to go from dead silence to hearing the entire stadium cheering was incredible.”

“Did you get the game ball?”

“I did. It will be brought over after our next national camp because surely by then I’ll actually have my own place.”

“Now to backtrack, because you’ll be getting to play with Lotte and Alessia obviously. Not only did they knock you and Australia out of the World Cup but you, as mentioned earlier, won the 2019 College Cup by scoring the winning penalty which caused the two to lose the same game. Is there gong to be any bad blood?”

“No, I don’t think so. Does it sting that we didn’t win the World Cup? Obviously, but we were able to do an amazing job and we overcame everyone’s expectations that they had set for us. In the end, it just wasn’t our year for it. So, I don’t have any hard feelings about that,” I said. I had been upset and frustrated that we weren’t able to win the World Cup, but I was still really proud of the rest of the Matildas. “As for 2019, that’s a question for Lotte and Alessia. Honestly, I’m not even sure if either of them remembers me from it. I might have scored the goal, but my role that season was not a huge one. I didn’t even see an increase in minutes that second year with the team.”

“What are you most excited about being here with Arsenal for?”

“To play for the team I’ve always loved,” I said before looking over my shoulder at Sadie. “It is really cool that I’m also going to get to play with Caitlin and Steph more than just with the national team. And it isn’t just them. I could pretty much learn from most of the players here with Arsenal and I’m excited to get the opportunity to do so."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I sat by myself again in the mess hall. It seemed that until I got rid of this ear infection, no one was going to approach me except for Sadie. I had really appreciated that she was sitting to eat with me. My hunt for a place to call my own had also been stalled considering I had been trying to rest.

But it had already been three weeks with none of the normal tips and tricks I knew had helped to get rid of this ear infection. Our medical staff at Arsenal hadn’t been able to help me, so they had gotten me in to see a doctor. The doctor had told me it was labyrinthitis, an inflammation of the inner ear.

I had been given medicine for the dizziness that I was experiencing but it did nothing to help the pain I still felt. It led to me ultimately being ruled out of the first qualifying round of the Champions League that took place two weeks ago.

And I couldn’t help but feel like it had partially been my fault when the team came back after being eliminated by Paris FC. I hadn’t even been there with the team for the games. I also wasn’t entirely sure how much the rest of the team knew about why I had been a scratch for the journey.

I looked up at the small tap on the table. Sadie sent me a soft smile as she sat down.

“How you feeling?”

“Tired.”

Not only was I dealing with an ear infection, but the loneliness was starting to get to me. I knew that it would be hard to communicate with my teammates while I wasn’t wearing my cochlear implants, but none of them had tried to get to know me. Not even my national teammates.

I couldn’t wait for the national window to open. Unless I was deemed unable to travel, I didn’t see why I wouldn’t be called up. Even though we’d be in Perth, rather than Brisbane, I was still happy that I’d be back in Australia. I’d even get to see Theo since he had gotten a job with the Matildas. I knew that his main job was to act as an interpreter while I was with the team, but he was also helping take care of all our gear as well.

I sent Kyra a small wave when she smiled at me. The small smile that had taken place on my face quickly turned to a frown though once she moved to join Caitlin and Steph who were sitting with a couple of the English players on our team along with Katie. I sighed as my head dropped down.

“I can say something to them, you know.”

I shook my head. I didn’t need Sadie tackling my problems for me. Besides, once I got over this ear infection, I’d be right there with the other Aussies.

“The last thing I need is for them to think that I’m a coward because I can’t join them and then I send you to confront them for not spending time around me.”

Sadie softly sighed before she nodded. I knew that she hated that I had been left on the outside of the team, but what choice did I really have? I wasn’t really that great at reading the lips of anyone outside of the Aussies and it wasn’t like Sadie could follow me around all day to translate everything for me, she was still one of our assistant coaches.

It was honestly just a really unfortunate situation. One that I hoped would be resolved within two weeks. I wasn’t sure where I would be at mentally if I couldn’t play in our WSL season opener.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My ear infection had finally gotten better a week before we were slated to take on Liverpool, but I was still finding it hard to talk to any of my teammates. Kyra seemed to be the only one willing to seek me out, but it wasn’t often as she was still attached to Caitlin and Steph’s hips. Maybe that’s why I hadn’t been as excited about getting to start against Liverpool. I had questioned Jonas’ decision when he told me, but he said it was the perfect chance to see what I would be able to do so that he could figure out how he would use me for the season.

It would have been fine, if it hadn’t been for the number of knocks that I was taking. It seemed that Liverpool had decided to target me. I wasn’t sure if it was because they weren’t sure what I could do, or maybe they had decided that I was the weak link on the field. But I could handle what they threw at me.

At least until Taylor Hinds and I clashed in the midfield trying to fight for the ball. She had got a hand on the side of my head which ended up knocking off my cochlear implant. This was one of the times where I hated my cochlear implants because it wasn’t like I could just leave it on the ground to come back to while I chased after the ball. No, I had to make sure I grabbed the cochlear implant that had come off my head to make sure that no one stepped on it and destroyed it.

Ultimately, I didn’t even have to worry about Hinds getting too far because the play was called dead. I had assumed that Hinds was going to be reprimanded for the swipe at my head. I wasn’t really sure, but I knew that it gave me time to put my cochlear implant on.

I didn’t tilt my head in confusion when I saw the ref, Emily Heaslip, going to talk with Liverpool’s coach, Matt Beard. My eyes darted between my own teammates because I had no idea why Heaslip was talking to Beard. At least I didn’t have a clue until Heaslip started to wave me over. I glanced around me to make sure she wasn’t trying to get someone else. I even pointed to myself as I raised my brow in confusion. Heaslip nodded her head and waved for me to go over where they were again.

I shrugged as I jogged over to the sideline.

“She’s cheating,” Beard said once I got close enough to hear them. He pointed to the side of his head. “She’s got earbuds in. Getting information from someone up top.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I watched you put it in,” Beard said as he turned to me. My hand flew up to touch my ear. “Yeah, those!”

“You mean my cochlear implants?”

“She should be sent off.”

“They’re medical devices. I have to have them to hear.”

“I’m sure that’s what she tells everyone so she can cheat. After all, how good can a college walk on be anyways.”

Now that was uncalled for.

“I’m better than you because at least I’m playing professionally.”

“Take them out.”

I froze at that. Surely, I didn’t hear that right.

“Take them out before the yellow I’m going to give you becomes a red.”

Heaslip was out of her mind. My eyes immediately darted over to Jonas as I motioned to my ears causing the man to make his way over to us. I wasn’t surprised that Sadie was following behind. Nor when Kim left the huddle of my teammates to see what was going on.

“She’s getting a yellow for blatantly cheating,” Heaslip said once Jonas asked what was going on. “At least I’m giving her the chance to continue the game.”

“They want me to take my implants out,” I explained. I knew that Jonas and Sadie would both be confused as to what cheating they were talking about. “Neither of them are listening that they’re medical devices.”

“Calm down,” Kim softly said from behind me.

I looked over my shoulder at her.

“No, they don’t get to discriminate against me just because they’re idiots.”

Heaslip had enough arguing I guess, because when I looked back at her there was a yellow card pointed at me. Definitely not how I wanted to start my career with Arsenal, but there was nothing I could do to change it now.

“Kim, go,” Jonas said. My captain hesitated, but she moved away from the group to join our teammates. “She quite literally can’t hear if she doesn’t wear them.”

“They come out. Now.”

Heaslip wasn’t even listening to what we were saying. Jonas nodded before glancing at Sadie.

“Okay, just give us a minute so (Y/N) can get them out.”

Heaslip nodded and stayed where she could watch as I walked back toward the bench with Jonas and Sadie.

“It’s not fair,” I said. I had no idea how I was going to play if I couldn’t hear since I always wore my cochlear implants when I played. “My first game with the team and they get to ruin it because they don’t know what cochlear implants are?”

“I’m not taking you out,” Jonas said. I blinked at that. I hadn’t expected him to keep me in. “You can still play without needing to hear. Just try not to keep playing too long after plays are whistled dead.”

“Oh, because that’ll be so easy.”

It wasn’t like I could just keep my eyes trained on the refs for the entire match.

“Sadie will hold onto them.”

I sighed as I looked between the two. It would be nice to finish my first match with Arsenal. I couldn’t do that if I let idiots ruin it for me. It only took me a second to take both of my cochlear implants out and hand them over to Sadie before was back out on the field.

Coming off from the first half, I knew that I was skating on thin ice with Heaslip with the amount of time it took for me to realize when plays were dead. I wanted nothing more than to keep my head down while Jonas talked to us at halftime so that I could at least pretend that the rest of my teammates weren’t staring at me, but I didn’t have a choice. I had to look up so that I could understand what was being said as Sadie translated it for me.

Going back out for the second half wasn’t any easier. I had been slow to move at kickoff since I was relying on when everyone else moved. I tried my best to stay away from fouls, whether my team was committing them or Liverpool, since they were the most unpredictable ways for plays to be called dead. It wasn’t as bad as the first half had been.

But it really came to a head in the 67th minute. We were already down by one, but Caitlin was getting the chance to make a run. I had made the decision to pull toward the middle of the field from my side as the rest of the midfielders were still behind the forwards and I. Caitlin was clearly fouled by Koivisto, but no one was stopping even though Caitlin stayed on the ground.

My eyes stayed trained on Caitlin who wasn’t getting up as I moved backwards. Then I decided to do something that was definitely risky, but I knew that if Caitlin still wasn’t getting up then it would be good for our trainers to check her out. So, I darted across the field where Koivisto was still trying to move the ball. Koivisto stopped and relaxed as soon as I got close to her, but it didn’t stop me from knocking into her to win the ball back. As soon as the ball was at my feet, I sent it out of bounds.

As soon as I had turned to go check on Caitlin, I knew that I was in for it. Heaslip had her eyes trained on me as she started to march over where I was. I scoffed as I rolled my eyes at the clear fact that it was me that she was coming to talk to rather than Koivisto who had been the one to actually foul another player.

I didn’t even pretend like I was paying attention to Heaslip this time. I was just tired of all of the bullshit from this game. However, my eyes did widen when she pulled out the yellow card again and pointed it at me before the red card followed since I had already gotten a yellow.

“Oh, come on. What do you want me to do?” I asked her as I motioned to my ears. “I can’t hear. You made sure of that.”

Heaslip’s lips were moving, but I had no interest in trying to figure out what she was saying. This was insane and I couldn’t believe that I was actually going to have to fight these cards just so that I could play in our next match.

“No seriously, I would love to hear what you want me to do. Oh, wait. I can’t because you made me take my implants out.”

I shoved the arms that were trying to pull me away from Heaslip away from me. I couldn’t wait to fight these cards though so that Heaslip would never call a game again. There’s no way anyone would ever have her referee a game once they found out that she had discriminated against me by denying me the use of my cochlear implants.

I was a bit surprised when Caitlin got in between Heaslip and I before the older Aussie started to push me back. She was pointing toward the tunnel, so it didn’t take much to guess that she was telling me to get off the pitch. My shoulders slumped forward at the obvious disappointment from the player that I had spent so much time looking up to. I couldn’t bring myself to meet anyone’s eyes either as I made my way off the pitch and to the tunnel.

I didn’t even bother to stop by Sadie to grab my cochlear implants. This had to be the worst debut I ever had.

I took a seat in front of my locker. It was an easy technique that I liked to use to help keep me grounded. It made it easier not to lose myself if I could feel the ground under me. I stayed there for the rest of the game. It wasn’t until Jonas and Sadie had entered the locker room that I realized that the game had ended.

“That was the worst game I have ever played.”

Sadie frowned but she relayed the message to Jonas who rubbed at his forehead. Jonas’ eyes stayed trained on me even though mine had to dart between him and Sadie so I could understand what was being said.

“I should have taken you out. That’s on me. I just wanted to give you the opportunity to prove to them that you were better than they gave you credit for. Which you did. We’ll fight the cards and I’m sure that they’ll be overturned considering you really didn’t do anything wrong.”

I shook my head at that because there was nothing that we could do to allow me to redo my first game with Arsenal. Especially in Emirates. It had all been messed up.

“I have dreamed of this day since I was a kid. And it got completely fucked up. I don’t care if the cards are overturned, but I do want apologies from Beard and Heaslip.”

Jonas nodded in agreement once Sadie let him know what I had said.

“Completely understandable and I’ll be sure that it is known that we fully expect apologies from both for forcing you to do something you didn’t want to with your cochlear implants. Whether or not you wear them should be entirely your choice.”

I nodded as I wiped the tears away from my eyes. I knew it wasn’t guaranteed that I would get an apology from either of them.

“I believe there are some fans who would still like to see you. Even if you did get sent off.”

I sighed and dropped my head at that. Before the World Cup, no one was interested in meeting me. It meant that when I had a bad game, or it didn’t go the way my team had expected, that I could leave without disappointing too many people.

But I knew that I needed to go see the fans. They deserved something good from me today after the game. I got to my feet, and I found that Sadie was holding my cochlear implants out to me. I took them from her before I headed out of the locker room so that I could go see some of our fans.

I fiddled with the cochlear implants in my hands as I made my way out of the tunnel to the field. I just wanted to greet the fans and then head home. But it seemed that nothing was going to go my way as I was snagged by the back of my jersey.

When I turned to see who had grabbed my jersey, I was surprised to find Caitlin behind me. She was holding a microphone causing me to full turn to find her in the middle of an interview. I furrowed my brow because I wasn’t sure why she had stopped me considering I hadn’t crashed the interview until she pulled me back. But my eyes moved away from where she was to the reporter who Caitlin was talking to.

“You’re going to have to give me a moment,” I said once I realized that the reporter’s lips were moving a lot faster than I could decipher. It didn’t take me long to get my cochlear implants on before I looked back at the reporter. “Okay, now I’ve got my ears on. What’s up?”

“I was hoping to get your thoughts on your first game with Arsenal. I know after how you played in the World Cup that a lot of the Arsenal faithful were looking forward to seeing you only to find out that you were an illness scratch during the Champions League games.”

“I won’t lie. It’s all been a bit frustrating. Up until today, none of that had been anyone’s fault,” I admitted. I knew that I had to be careful about talking about my frustrations for tonight because I could still be punished if I said the wrong things. “I’m just hoping things will start turning around.”

“What’s been so frustrating?”

“Well, obviously I was an illness scratch for the Champions League games we had. I had been dealing with an ear infection during that time and it lasted until last week. It was brutal and there were times where I was in so much pain. It was just unfortunate that it had to happen almost as soon as I had arrived at Arsenal,” I said as I rubbed the back of my head. It had honestly been the worst ear infection I had ever had. “It made it hard to communicate with anyone really, so that was really hard because I do enjoy spending time with others. But I finally got rid of the infection last week, and Jonas decided to give me the start. So, things are starting to turn around.”

“Even with how tonight ended?”

I glanced over my shoulder at Caitlin who had asked the question. She had a frown on her face. I wasn’t entirely sure why Caitlin looked upset, but I knew that it probably had to do with me crashing her interview or the fact that I just revealed that I had been in pain and isolated.

“Getting carded for the reasons I did was insane and frustrating. Jonas and I have already agreed that we’ll be appealing the cards,” I said. Honestly, I couldn’t believe that Caitlin was okay with the cards I had been given. “I’m sure we’ll win the appeal. I would like to make formal complaints about both Beard and Heaslip considering how I was treated.”

“Well, I’m not entirely sure that you’ll overturn those cards,” the reporter pointed out. I turned my head back to look at her. “You obviously got into a heated talk with Liverpool’s head coach, Matt Beard, and tonight’s referee, Emily Heaslip.”

“It’s simple,” I shrugged. Was I really around this many people who had no idea what cochlear implants were. “One of my cochlear implants fell off and Beard had to be nosy, even though he can’t tell the difference between earbuds and my cochlear implants. Then Heaslip sided with him without talking to either Jonas or I. Which she should have done to figure out what I had in my ears if she was really worried about someone cheating, but she refused to hear us out as we tried to explain.”

“Well, I wish you both better luck for the future.”

I sent a soft smile to the reporter, happy to finally be done with the interview. Caitlin followed me as I headed to where our fans still were so that I could greet them. Caitlin stayed close to me as we talked with the fans and took pictures and gave autographs. I didn’t think much of how close she was staying to me until we were headed back through the tunnel.

“So those weren’t earbuds?”

I stopped in the tunnel causing Caitlin to crash into my back. I honestly hadn’t been expecting the question. Once I regained my balance, I turned to face Caitlin.

“We played at the World Cup together. Not only that but we spent over a month together to prepare for it and then play in it,” I pointed out as I tilted my head in confusion. I knew that I had tended to stick around the ones on the national team who were closer to my age, but we had all spent so much time around each other. The World Cup was one of the few times where I had worn my cochlear implants even when I didn’t want to. “You’ve seen my cochlear implants before.”

“I thought they were fancy headphones,” Caitlin defended. I shook my head as I let out a sigh. She could have just asked me what they were, and I would have told her. “So, what do they really do?”

“We can come back to that in a second,” I said. There was something else that was bothering me now from today’s game. “Were you upset with me when I got the second yellow because you thought I had gotten the first one for wearing fancy headphones?”

Caitlin only shrugged. My shoulders slumped forward because her silence said it all. My own teammates had thought I was cheating along with our referee and opponents’ coach.

“What is it that they do?”

“They’re basically my ears,” I said. This time it was Caitlin who was tilting her head in confusion. “It’s kind of how I’ve always seen them. I have my actual ears and they can hurt and, obviously, I can still get ear infections. But since my actual ears can’t process sound, I have my cochlear implants which are my hearing ears.”

“So, they’re like hearing aids?”

“They have the same purpose but work differently,” I said. A lot of people asked me about this when they first found out that I had cochlear implants so that I could hear. “Hearing aids just amplify sounds so they can be detected by damaged ears. Cochlear implants bypass the damaged parts.”

Caitlin slowly nodded as she furrowed her brow in thought. I didn’t mind answering the questions she had for me. I never had been opposed to answering questions about my disability. But if my own teammates hadn’t realized that I had cochlear implants or what they did, I wondered how many people were unaware of my situation.

“And we all just ignored you when joined the club.”

“It hurt, yeah,” I shrugged. This time it was Caitlin’s shoulders that slumped forward. “I understood though. Outside of our little Aussie group, no one on the team had ever played with me before. And it wasn’t like I’ve exactly had a lot of experience playing with any of you either.”

“But we ignored you.”

“I couldn’t really talk to anyone,” I pointed out. It might have sucked and hurt while I was being ignored, but I had understood why I was ignored. “Sure, I could talk, but I wouldn’t have been able to understand the rest of you.”

“Ross didn’t ignore you.”

“Sadie? She knows Auslan, AKA Australian Sign Language,” I said. I had gotten better offers from other clubs, but Arsenal had already told me that they had an interpreter on staff. “Sadie is literally employed as an interpreter for me now that I’ve joined Arsenal. It just so happened that she was already an assistant coach here at Arsenal and now they’re also paying her for acting as an interpreter.”

“Oh.”

I furrowed my brow. The last thing I wanted was for Caitlin or anyone else on the team to feel like I resented them for not being able to communicate with me. Maybe if I was a kid then I would feel differently about the whole situation, but I had long ago come to terms with the fact that most people wouldn’t be able to communicate with me sometimes.

I grabbed a hold of Caitlin’s wrist as I dragged her to the locker room. I was a bit surprised when we ran into Kyra who was leaving the locker room. It was obvious that she was headed home too considering she had her bag with her.

“Back in the locker room,” I said to her. Kyra’s eyebrow shot up as she looked between me and Caitlin. I looked over her shoulder though to see that the rest of the team was in the locker room. Even our injured players who were talking with the others. “Team meeting! No one leaves until I’m done talking.”

Everyone’s eyes were drawn to me as I turned back to look at Kyra. Kyra nodded before moving back into the locker room which allowed me to drag Caitlin in. Once the locker room door was shut, I let go of Caitlin’s wrist so that she could move to sit down.

“It’s been brought to my own attention that a lot of you are more than likely unaware that I’m Deaf. I was born deaf, and I do use cochlear implants to hear,” I announced. My eyes darted around the room to see how my new teammates would react. “I also know Australian Sign Language, or Auslan. So does Sadie. I wasn’t ignoring anyone or wanted to be left alone during my first month with the club, but wearing my cochlear implants while dealing with an ear infection is quite annoying for me so I chose not to wear them. And I’ll answer any questions you ever have. I really have no problem answering questions.”

The team stayed quiet as they processed everything that I had just told them. The longer the silence went on, the more nervous it made me. I couldn’t help it as I started to fidget where I was standing with most of the team’s eyes still on me.

“So Heaslip made you take off the only thing that allowed you to hear?”

My eyes darted over to where Alessia was sitting. I hesitated for a moment before nodding in confirmation.

“I wasn’t cheating,” I repeated. Just the idea of my new teammates thinking that I had cheated made me nauseous. “And all the warnings for not stopping at the whistle? I couldn’t hear. I had to take cues from everyone else. Well, from you guys.”

My eyes turned to Kim who got up to move in front of me.

“If anyone else ever tries to make you take off your cochlear implants when you don’t want to, they’re going to have to go through all of us,” Kim assured me as she put a hand on my shoulder. “And I know that I’ll be giving you my full support in appealing the cards and any other action you wish to pursue against Heaslip or Beard.”

I sent her a small smile. It was nice to have someone who was willing to back me up so quickly. Especially considering that it seemed like the whole team had been under the impression that I was ignoring them on purpose.

“You’ve got my full support as well,” Alessia said as she stood up.

I didn’t miss how my fellow Aussies shared a look before they also stood up to declare their support. And soon after they stood up, so did the rest of the team.

I couldn’t wipe the grin off my face thanks to the support that the team was so willing to give me even though none of them truly knew me yet. It might have honestly been one of the first times that I ever truly felt like my entire team had my back.

[blingblong55]

Healing -Vladimir Makarov

A/N: this is not me telling you how reader looks^

Based on a request:

i love love LOVE the great war. i’m foaming at the mouth for a part 2 BUT can you maybe do something with vlad and his love taking a bath while he reads her poetry or something along the lines. again love your work you truly are amazing 🌷

---- F!Reader, fluff/romance, wife!reader, husband!Makarov, poetry read, pregnant!reader ----

It's been a long day, Vladimir and you haven't seen each other since you left bed. And now, as you walk inside your home, he greets you with a warm meal. "Ah, the girl I have been waiting for." He walks to you, wrapping you in his hold. "What's all this about?" you ask curiously. His hand on your belly, "I think my sweet wife deserves a treat, after all, you did some hard work today." He teases. "Shopping is a sport," you kiss his cheek and he guides you to the warm kitchen. For months since he found out he would become a father, he gave you a credit card, 'spend it on you and our little one.' he said and every day, he sends you out with at least two of his men to buy at least ten things.

He wanted this all to be a thank you, for turning his life around and giving him a new purpose and as you both eat a meal he so carefully cooked with love, he finds himself admiring you. You look up, insecure for some reason until he smiles. "Did you know you are the kind of woman men write poems about?" He continues eating and you feel yourself blushing and a rush of happiness. One thing about your husband is that he knows what to say and how to make you feel, especially, now that you carry your first child.

You look at him, "What have you so….happy today?" He shrugs, "I have many reasons to be happy. I have you, my lovely wife, today all went well, we have a son arriving in a few months and did I mention I have a lovely, beautiful, small and incredibly amazing wife?" You smile and look away. "I mean it, love. I seriously thank you for being part of my life so please just accept all my love because trust me, pretty girl, no one else can get this."

After that much-needed meal, he offers a bath. And as he warms the water for you both, he watches mesmerised as you undress in front of him. Your beautiful body is all for his gaze to admire. For some reason, Vladimir couldn't help but feel a gush of emotions, all good ones of course. The way the room lit up, showcasing all your beautiful features and there was him, watching a goddess undress. It was like a schoolboy, the feeling he had, blushing and looking away from how excited you made him. To others, it's nothing to see your beloved undress anymore but to him, this was a privilege.

They always portray men like him as heartless men with no soul behind their evil loving gaze but if you look closely, there it is, the warm fire that still shines through. "Get in the tub, my love," his voice was always so soft with you. It was comedic how it changed when he spoke to those who aren't you. He was always so cold to others but when he turned to you, gave you one glance or one word, his voice was pure and soft. His hand holding yours as you get in. Hold it until you sit down in the tub. The second he let go, as he walked to the counter of the bathroom, his hand flexed. He was anxious in many ways and for good reason since you had changed the man he was before.

In his hands was the old book of poems he collected of his favourite poets or wrote himself. The book was old, but the words inside were worth more than anything in the world. As he sat down, he could feel the warmth of your back to his chest. You laid against him, finding comfort in his embrace and in some romantic way, this was professing love with unspoken words. His free hand playing with your hair as he holds the book of poems. "Let's see my love, what poem shall I read you today?"

You point towards one. "First Love by John Clare," the title wrote. "Very well, my love." he kisses your head and begins. "I ne’er was struck before that hour With love so sudden and so sweet, Her face it bloomed like a sweet flower And stole my heart away complete. My face turned pale as deadly pale, My legs refused to walk away, And when she looked, what could I ail? My life and all seemed turned to clay.

And then my blood rushed to my face And took my eyesight quite away, The trees and bushes round the place Seemed midnight at noonday. I could not see a single thing, Words from my eyes did start— They spoke as chords do from the string, And blood burnt round my heart.

Are flowers the winter’s choice? Is love’s bed always snow? She seemed to hear my silent voice, Not love's appeals to know. I never saw so sweet a face As that I stood before. My heart has left its dwelling-place And can return no more."

His voice throughout the poem so steady, and clean and expresses the same emotion the poem itself meant to convey. He places the book on the small shelf by the tub, his arms wrapping you in a loving embrace. "Did you like it?" Vladimir's head resting on your shoulder as his hands caress your belly. "Mhm…I loved this one." your voice was soft as you began to relax with him. "Good, my love," he whispers before kissing your shoulder, one of his hands so delicately lifting your hair as the other writes on your back.

"I- L-O-V-E- Y-O-U" his fingertips spell out. You try and figure out what the message was but before you begin to think, you feel his soft and warm lips kiss the back of your neck. To him, this was the most beautiful thing lovers could do that also meant intimacy. Sitting in a tub, looking out a window that brings light to the bathroom, reading poetry and then doing something like this, kissing your neck with nothing but love, rubbing the same belly that carries his child. And then you got it, "I love you too, Vlad," you lean back, your head turning and your lips meeting his.

It was as if no other worry could bother either of you. Being here, that is what counts and in the darkest corner of his heart, he feels all those old wounds and worries heal. This is real, this moment in time, that is what feels so unreal to those who can't have this privilege but to both of you, this is real, it's love to its simplicity.

Tags:

@goldenmclaren @liyanahelena @selarus @kielsegur @mseccentricks @johfaam0 @moonsua1 @rvivienner @frazie99 @viomast @vampsquerade @saoirse06 @alxexhearts @baldwinhearts @strangepuppynightmare

[zvdvdlvr]

- 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐲

𝐒��𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : 𝒂 𝒓𝒂𝒓𝒆, 𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘, 𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : 𝒊𝒎 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒐𝒏 𝒃𝒐𝒐𝒌 4 𝒔𝒐 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒂𝒄𝒄𝒖𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒚 𝒊𝒏 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔, 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇, 𝒑𝒆𝒕 𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔 {𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍, 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈}, 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒌 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒆𝒐𝒑𝒍𝒆'𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒓𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚, 𝑭𝑳𝑼𝑭𝑭

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 : 𝒂𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒏 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝐊.𝐉.'𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐒𝐚𝐲𝐬... 𝒐𝒉 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝑮𝑶𝑫 𝒊𝒎 𝑰𝑵 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬 𝑾𝑰𝑻𝑯 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑴𝑨𝑵𝑵𝑵𝑵. 𝒎𝒚 𝒃𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒅𝒂𝒚'𝒔 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒑 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒊 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒋𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒔𝒌𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒂𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒏 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒋𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 <3

It wasn't often y/n would wake up before Aaron, and that's why she was slightly shocked when her watch read 7:03 and Aaron was still sound asleep with his hands securing y/n directly to his bare chest. His mouth was slightly open. He hummed slightly, burrowing further into his girlfriend.

"Stay w'me, m'love," was barely audible from Aaron's lips as he squirmed around, grasping at the edges of conciousness. "Wanna hold you."

y/n knew Aaron would wake up soon. He had a sixth sense about when y/n woke up, and he also didn't normally sleep in late. His muscular arms loosened slightly, giving y/n the chance (even though she didn't want to) to untangle herself from the sheets and sticky skin.

She shivered when the brisk air brushed her skin. Goosebumps appeared along y/n's forearms, all the way up her arms.

Aaron flopped around on the bed again, a small whimper leaving his mouth. His arms flailed around as he attempted to get comfortable. Even though y/n felt bad for leaving him cold (even though he was basically a heating device), she couldn't help but sigh in happiness at her now unrestricted body movement.

When Aaron stilled once again, y/n made her way to the growing collection of books found... around. y/n selected a book that she'd started. It was by a woman called Cassandra Clare. Maybe it was the way the book was written, the characters, or even the fact that the book had made y/n remember things from the time before The Reestablishment but y/n loved the book.

"Angel?" Aaron's gravelly voice startled y/n as she padded back to the bed. His eyes squinted at the soft light in the room, but his hands reached out to perform a very uncharacteristic grabby-hands movement.

y/n giggled at Aaron's bed-head, sliding into the bed. "Morning, my love," y/n greeted, withholding a small coo at the way Aaron nuzzled into y/n's chest. "You'll suffocate and die if you stay like that for long," y/n laughed, playing with the hair on the back of Aaron's neck.

"I will happily embrace death if you're the one killing me." His sickenly sweet morbid comment made y/n want to laugh and smack him upside the head.

Silence followed while y/n drew small circles on Aaron's muscular back. The Mortal Instruments was set to the side while the pair basked in each other's loving company.

"I'm in love with you, Aaron," y/n murmurs suddenly.

The blond turned his head up to see y/n already gazing at him. "I love you more," he started. "I love you more than a moon loves it's star, I love you more than the stars love the sky, I love you more than the blood in my body loves my heart. I love you more than I love myself, my dear. I will love you until the end of all concept of time and even longer. My heart beats for you and only you," he ranted, brushing a thumb on y/n's cheek. "I love you more than you love watching the stars on the horizon. I'm so in love with you that I would carve my heart from my chest just for you to remember me by."

Aaron searched y/n's eyes during the loud silence that followed.

"You romantic boy," y/n said with emotion, "I feel horrible because I can't string together enough syllables to tell you I love you."

A small grin crossed Aaron's face. "I love you," he said again.

y/n mirrored his smile as he burrowed into her neck. "I love you more, darling." y/n carded her hand through Aaron's soft hair after pressing a small kiss to his temple.

"I love you most."

[maxsimagination]

𝗰𝗲𝗹𝗲𝗯𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 -𝗲.𝗱𝗲 𝗮𝗹𝗺𝗲𝗶𝗱𝗮

warnings: smut. car sex. 18+ under the cut.

a/n: let’s pretend psg make it to the finals

-----

the last game.

the final of the division 1 féminine.

paris saint-germain vs lyon.

it was my first final with psg for this season, having just joined the club from liverpool. it was big change, going from the wsl to the french league but so worth it.

both me and fellow australian, clare hunt had joined the team but she'd come from the a-leagues. in the almost year i'd spent at the french club, i'd met all of the players and they were all really welcoming.

the first player that greeted me was elisa, the slightly taller defender bumping into me on my first day.

since then we'd hit it off, become almost best friends and started dating after a couple months. now we were walking onto the field together, to play for the championship.

nerves were rolling through my body; the pre-game jitters never got easier. our captain grace led us out to the pitch where the lyon players were lined up and waiting.

it didn't take long and everyone was ready, in their positions. the whistle blew and i shot forward, we were off.

——

half time came, we were 1-0 down by a shot from ada hegerberg.

after the break everyone was determined to at least equalise. it felt like a lifetime but finally the ball was booted halfway up the field by our goalie and i was on it immediately. weaving through the defenders wasn't easy, i had wendie renard and ellie carpenter to get past before their goalie.

i was smaller, more agile however, and i managed to sneak past them and shoot a clean shot straight into the top left corner of the net.

the crowd went wild and i jumped in the air out of happiness. we were equal now, 1-1.

the second goal came roughly 10 minutes after my first, korbin had made a brilliant pass to lieke, who was bolting towards the box, 2 defenders hot on her heels. i was just on the right wing, close enough to the goal to get a tap in, and that's exactly what i did.

lieke saw me unmarked and slid the ball across and i made a one touch shot into the bottom right corner. the goalie didn't know what was happening by the time the ball was in the net.

the stadium erupted again and leapt in the air again. finally we had a chance, we were almost there.

when that final whistle blew after 5 minutes of injury time, i sunk to my knees. we had done it.

the whole team, subs included, ran onto the pitch in a huddle that ended more like a crushing pile of bodies. i wiggled my way out of it and found elisa.

"we did it mon amour, we won! thanks to you!" she picked me up and pressed a kiss to my forehead. i giggled and wrapped my legas around her body, to hold myself up. the whole stadium was filled with the cheers of the psg fans, but at the same time, the humiliated silence of the lyon fans.

i felt bad for the team, they had played their best but it wasn't enough. but the cheering of my team bought me back and both me and elisa were wrapped up in celebration again.

——

the girls had dragged us all out to a club, celebration they claimed. so i was dressed in a deep blue, shimmery dress that i thought matched our team colours perfectly.

elisa drove us while the other girls made their own way to the chosen club. it was semi-crowded when we got there but we found everyone else at a table and sat down.

sakina announced that the first round was on her and almost ran over to the bar to order.

around 3 rounds later and sakina, me and a couple other were on the dance floor. sakina was easily more drunk than me, hence why she was practically grinding on me. i wasn't too bothered, quite enjoying myself actually. we danced in sync with the music, matching all the other swaying bodies on the floor.

however i knew one person wouldn't be too happy, because i could feel her glare from across the room. elisa wasn't normally that jealous but when she was, i always ended up under her so i couldn't say i enjoy it.

the song ended and i twirled sakina away from me and she latched onto another teammate to dance with. i made my way over to where elisa was sitting, sliding in next to her.

"bonjour, mon amour." (hello, my love.)

my hand slid onto her thigh instinctively, elisa leaned her head down to mine to catch my lips in a searing kiss. when we pulled apart she had a hungry look in her eyes.

"sakina is too touchy."

i chuckled at how grumpy elisa looked, rubbing her thigh in comfort.

"do you want to get out of here?"

i didn't have to whisper, the club was already loud, but elisa heard me and was all too happy to grab my hand and get up. we bid goodnight to our teammates and headed for the exit.

our car was parked outside and we made a beeline for it. well, elisa did, i was just dragged along. however, she grabbed handle of the backseat not the front seat.

"elisa, what are you doing? we have to drive home?"

she didn't answer, just pulled me in with her. her lips were on mine the second the door clicked shut, hands roaming up and down my sides.

we pulled apart for a brief second then her lips were on my neck. she trailed her way down to my chest where she slipped the straps of my dress down to play with my nipples. a satisfied groan left my lips and i wriggled under her. she took her time now, giving equal amounts of pleasure to both the left and right breast.

"eli..."

"yes, mon amour?" (my love.)

she knew what she was doing to me, a cocky grin plastered on her face when she looked at me.

"hurry up and fuck me!"

i didn't think it could happen but an even cockier grin was now sported on her lips as she hiked my dress up to show my blue, lace panties.

"all dressed up for me, are we?"

a blush covered my cheeks at her words, i did have tiny hope that we would end the night like this but in her car, i never would have guessed.

her fingers were now hooked in the sides on my underwear, and with a glance up to me for consent, she pulled them down. her fingertips grazed my clit, before dipping further down to my soaked hole. she gathered my juices in her finger and brought it up to her mouth, not breaking eye contact once.

my cheeks heated with a blush again and i could feel the tingling feeling travel down to my groin.

"so wet for me, bébé." (baby.)

"elisa, please. just touch me already."

she did as i asked, fingers finding my clit and immediately rubbing small circles around it. i hummed, the pressure on the bundle of nerves was sending little shockwaves through my body and it felt so good.

my hips bucked up into her fingers, desperate for more friction.

"eli, your fingers inside me please."

she pressed a kiss to my lips, which turned into a make out session, while she thrust two fingers into me. elisa set a steady pace, before pushing a third finger in.

i moaned into her mouth at the stretch, urging her to keep going. i could feel the coil in my lower stomach start to tighten.

"elisa, 'm close. don't stop."

she kept going, if anything she sped up, determined to make me cum. elisa rubbed against my clit, adding to the pressure of the already-tight coil.

i mentally thanked whatever god was in our favour for the tinted windows elisa had on her car. i wouldn't be able to live this down if she didn't. inside the car, there wasn't much speaking, only the sounds of her fingers slapping against my wet folds and my moans. i was just on the edge, i could feel myself clenching faster, then suddenly i was there.

"elisa, i'm cumming!"

"cum for me bébé, all over my fingers." (baby,)

i didn't need any further assurance, i let it go and found myself clenching uncontrollably around elisa's fingers as she helped me through my orgasm.

slowly she pulled her fingers out, licking them clean then pressing a kiss to my lips so i could taste myself on her lips.

once i'd come down from my high, she made sure to clean me up as best she could, slipping my underwear back onto my hips and pulling the dress straps up over my bare chest.

"well clean up properly at home, yea?"

[avaf00rd]

With my best friend

Caitlin Foord x Reader

Warnings : slight mention of anxiety, break up

Summary : in which lifelong Best friends slowly come to senses about their close connection to their number one person.

————————————————————————

2011

“hi I’m y/n” you said to a shorter girl who looked just as nervous as you.

“Yeah I know. They said your name before”

“Oh yeah of course” you said pulling your hand away as you had it out to shake. Pretty formal for 17 year olds. She then grabbed your hand from my side back up again and shook it “Caitlin”

You smiled as you both focused you attention onto the information evening of the Matilda’s new squad members.

——————

2011

“Caitlin you did it I flipping knew it!” You squealed to your roommate. She was starting for Australia, for the first time of her career and you couldn’t have been prouder.

“And I get to start with you!” She squealed as you both jumped around your hotel room.

You two were both in New Zealand when you were called about you both starting together. You made your debut last week, coming on in the last 5 minutes. But Caitlin would make her debut starting.

The game the next day: you managed to receive a pass from Clare as you ran up the field. You felt no one too close on you but you spotted Caitlin completely open just close enough to the goal, possibly not even close enough to you. You still passed to her just near the goal, a pretty impressive pass, as she sent a header straight into the back of the net. Slipping just past the keepers hands. She yelled in excitement as you jumped straight into your best friends arms.

“You did it cait!” You screamed holding her face in your hands before the rest of your Australian teammates jumped onto the two of you, causing you to collapse.

——————

2020 (quite the time jump ngl)

“Hey you” you felt arms wrap around your sweaty neck. It was your girlfriend Ona. You had just beaten her Spanish team 2-1 in your match tonight. You celebrated with your respected team after your win while ona had a chat with hers. After signing shirts and posters and doing your laps around the stadium. You were standing around with Macca, Caitlin and Alanna before your girlfriend greeted all of you.

You turned around to give her a big hug, wrapping your arms tightly around her neck. “Proud of you” she whispered as she kissed your cheek.

“Even more proud of you”

She smiled at you before you both turned back around to your three best friends “hey guys” ona said before hugging all of them.

Caitlin’s POV

Ona seemed brilliant for y/n. I don’t see her smile that much than when she’s with her. But there’s just something about her, something sour that turns me off about when she’s with y/n.

I hugged her lightly, smiling. Knowing how much this meant for y/n. Seeing us get along with her. I’ve seen Ona put stress on y/n, it’s from the long distance. Some nights in our hotel room she has been teary about how difficult it gets. I think it’s that that is bugging me.

——————

2021

“So fucking stupid” y/n sobbed into Alannas arms as we were in her hotel room. At another camp.

The long distance no longer worked for ona and my best friend. “Like it’s like all that trying and effort for the long distance wasn’t even worth it!” She exclaimed into Alan as shoulder.

“Oh Sweet Girl it was I promise it was” alanna soothed to her.

I did feel terrible. The couple had been together since when they met at Barca in 2018. And everyone loved them together. My heart ached at y/ns state. Soaking Alannas top, while Mac ran her hands through her hair. I said some words to her as I sat close to her.

After about 4 hours of room service, and 2 marvel movies. Y/n and me saw the other two girls out. As I shut the door, y/n pulled me close into a bone crushing hug. I wrapped my arms around her torso.

“Thank you for that. Love you” she said before pulling away and hopping into the shower.

—————

July 2021

Y/n’s pov

I gripped tightly onto Caitlin’s hand as the plane went through multiple stages of turbulence over the last hour. For the past 10 years, you had always held her hands during bumpy travel together. It just soothed your plane anxiety.

———

The final whistle blew as you fell to your knees. Hands covering your face. It was the semi finals, you had made it. And you went down 1-0 to Sweden. Tears slowly tried to fall out of your eyes. As you quickly brushed them away. Once finding yourself again moments later and standing up. You hugged some of the Swedish girls and then embraced Sam in a tight hug. Both showing how proud of each other you were. When in Sam’s arms, you looked over her shoulder to find your best friend standing by herself looking up to the sky in disbelief. You let yourself out of Sam’s arms before smiling at her then jogging over to Caitlin. She didn’t notice you at first as you pulled her towards you to giver her a huge hugger. Her head hung low on your shoulder, “I’m proud of you. And for that goal” you whispered.

“Thanks” she said holding you tighter. It was slightly disappointing. You were so close to reaching that gold medal, but just slipped before the last step.

————

The very short plane back to London was soothing. A smooth trip with sleepy girls. So it was very relaxing. Caitlin very quickly fell asleep in her seat next to you. She slept with her mouth hung open which made you giggle. You quickly snapped a photo before posting it to your close friends instagram story. You found yourself in your camera roll looking at the photo just taken. Then the suggestions of Caitlin box came up under the photo. You clicked on it as the photos app took you to all of the photos of you and Caitlin. From as long as you remembered. You smiled remembering the memories. She really has been the glue to your whole life.

—————

A/N

Ok so there is no romance between Caitlin and reader in this. But there be part 2 super soon so hold your nickers.

Luv yall💗💗

[agaypanic]

could you do a james maguire x reader? just them being a cute fluffy couple and hanging with their friends (she/her pronouns if you can but they/them is fine!) i love your writing <3

Dating James Maguire Headcanons/Drabbles

Masterlist

Request Something!

***

The girls made fun of you when you and James first started dating

It was lighthearted, but there was a hint of truth whenever it came from Michelle

“I dunno what’s worse, you dating an English fella or you dating my cousin.” Michelle groaned as she looked at your and James’ joined hands.

“Shut up, Michelle.” James rolled his eyes, used to the teasing he’d receive from her just for existing.

“They’re a cute pair, Michelle.” Clare defended, looking at the two of you. “If they were complete strangers, I’d be like, ‘aw, look at them, they’re so cute.’”

“They’re not strangers, Clare. It’s incest.”

“Ew! Michelle, we’re not related.” You said in disgust, looking around to make sure no one passing by had heard her. Michelle shrugged.

“Well, it feels like incest, so you might as well break up now.”

Dates to the chippy when Fionnula decided to lift the ban

He doesn’t get anything for himself, but he knows your order by heart and never lets you pay

“Y/n, what’re you doing?” Clare asked as she watched you pull out some money, trying to be discreet about it. You raised a finger to your lips, signaling her to keep quiet as you got up and made your way to James, who was in line for you. You wrapped an arm around him.

“Hi, Darling.” He greeted, putting an arm around your shoulders and kissing the top of your head.

“Hi.” You responded, getting on your toes to kiss his cheek. “So afterward, the girls were thinking of going to Erin’s. What do you think?”

As you talked, you slid the money into his jacket pocket.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Are we staying over or just for the movie?”

“I’m not opposed to staying over. Just depends on how Mary feels about it.” James nodded in understanding. The line moved up a bit, and you took that as your cue to go back to sit with Clare. You kissed James’ cheek again and went to walk away when he pulled you back.

“Take it back.” You looked at him, confused.

“What?” You watched him pull the money out of his pocket, looking at you less than impressed. You sighed, realizing you were caught.

“Take it back, Y/n.” You reluctantly snatched it and put it in your own pocket.

“I just feel bad that you keep paying for me.”

“Well, stop feeling bad because I wanna do it.”

“You’re too good to me.” You said before kissing him, not caring that others were in the shop.

Study dates!!!

He’ll come over to your house because his is too hectic with Michelle

Usually ends with him sleeping over, which neither of you mind

[sunny-mercya]

Sandcastles

James Maguire x Male Reader

Fandom -> Derry Girls

Masterlist

James didn't thought much about it, when Michelle—his one and only beloved Cousine from Northern Irlands Derry—said to him, that he wouldn't be the only lad in their school and Squad.

James thought, it could be much worse—like being in all Boys school, where they probably gonna torment him, like a football, because of his english upbringing—than being in Michelle's girls squad—or actually, that's what his Aunt said, because James thought he could handle himself just fine in a all boy school—but Aunts, like mothers, like to worry over their children.

When stepping out of the bus and onto the grounds of Our Lady Immaculate College—a mouthful of a name—James did his best to look like a toughen up boy, acting chilling cool, like the lads from the 60's—because they had some style, but with his school uniform it doesn't really brought out what he intended to look like—still, James hold his chin high.

The girls just all giggled at him, pointing their fingers—and James felt silly now, just a little, but he doesn't stop in his act.

»Ya really look stupid, ya know that asshat? Stop with yer acting of being some lad. Yer an embarrassment for me.« Michelle scolds, slapping him good on the arm and a scornful expression adorns her makeup'd face.

James wouldn't tell a soul—because Michelle would kill him—but Michelle without makeup looks like a different person.

»Well, I'm the only boy here, in a herd full of girls, what am I supposed to do then?«

»No yer ain't. I told ya, yer won't be the only lad. I told ya about [Name], didn't I? So, would ya stop with yer nonsense fucking whining.«

»I thought you meant that as a sort of joke, with that [Name] person....«

James flinched when Michelle turned to him in a flash—anger radiating off her like a heater and her grimace of a expression, was unsettling.

Erin and Clare stared at him, brows raised and looking rather offended—and Orla? Orla stepped a good foot away from him, as if he just had said something unpleasant.

»I'm sorry?« James didn't know why he apologised, but he felt as he should—only because he doesn't want to be Michelle's punching bag for the rest of the day.

»Yer better be asshat! Don't dare say such mean things about [Name] again! He's a precious friend and we ain't gonna hesitate to punch anyone who talks shit about him. This includes you as well.« Erin ranted, Orla just nodding along with her candy.

James rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly—great, he thought.

»POP-TARTS! MY FAVOURITE GIRLS! HELLO!«

The girls turned away from James, Michelle squatting down like a sports player—ready to catch whomever just shouted this.

James looked over Orla's shoulder, seeing a boy—this must be this [Name] lad, Michelle was talking about, James concluded—sprinting over to them and right into Michelle's arms, who she hugged tightly and spins him around like a rag-doll.

Once Michelle had sat [Name] down—squishing his cheeks in a greeting, before releasing him completely from her clutches—he turned to James.

[Name] had been all excited this whole morning, to finally meet Michelle Cousin and now, when the time has come—[Name] couldn't help himself but to grin brighter than ever and pulling the other boy into a welcoming hug.

»Welcome to Derry and Our Lady'a College! It'a nice to finally meet ya James!«

And James thought, this [Name] lad was rather weird—and God forbid, the girls hear his offending thoughts.

~~~

It's summer now—temperatures have risen, weather mostly pleasant, suns brighter and longer out—the long holidays had started and James didn't believed he would survive a whole year in Derry—but he did and he's ready to, excited even, for his next upcoming years in Derry.

What James also didn't believed—and thinking back to this year schools beginning, it truly seemed unlikely to happen—that [Name] and him would befriend one another, but they did.

Although, if James being honest—but he never would dare to tell either the girls and especially not [Name]—he was a bit reluctant to even talk with [Name] at all, after all his way of speaking and how he is—his little habits and other personality traits aspects—were just a tiny bit off putting for James.

»I'mma ella looking forward to our small summer trip! Dad brought me'a this'a ella cool sand scooping and bucket set. James, Orla we're gonna build some Sandcastles, don'tcha we?« [Name] rambles in excitement, finishing of Michelles hairstyling—which were just two buns and some hairclips, Michelle could've done this with ease, but always letting [Name] doing it, because she knows how much her friend loves to do it—and plopping down next to James on the bed.

Normally they would've meet up at Erin's house, but Mary was doing some grand cleaning and shooed them away instantly once she saw them—so now, they're all at [Name]'s, scooped up in his room, which James had been in many times.

Orla agrees in a heartbeat to [Name]'s sandcastle idea, starting to ramble excitingly about decorations and when Michelle looks at James expectantly, he just shrugs his shoulders.

»It's alright to do, I suppose.« he says, letting [Name] do what he was about to do—putting some real girly, all coloured in pink and purple and blue with stars and other ornaments on it, hairclips into his curly hair.

»Ya don't wanna build with us Sandcastles? But Dad even brought a second scooper, in green, becausa I'mma told him to do, becausa yer like green and I'mma ella wanna build little tiny castle of sandy sand with ya and like—«

»Yes! Yes I love to build Sandcastles with you and Orla! I promise you [Nickname] I really do and I even will bring some tiny flags, okay? Yeah, alright.« James cuts his friend off, arm going around his shoulder and pulling [Name] in for a hug—the (hair.c) laid his head down onto James shoulder, hands reaching for James and playing with his fingers.

James had once asked, during dinner, his Aunt—she's a nurse, she probably knows better than Michelle or Erin, who would punch him blue and purple if he dared to utter his questions, especially such sensitive personal ones, about [Name]—if there might be something, medical wise, wrong with [Name]—because his friend had a weird way of speaking and overall just not really being “normal”.

Michelle was close that night to scream more than just profanities at James, but her mother hold her off and explained calmly to James—that yes, mental wise, there is something wrong with [Name].

And when James asked for an elaboration—he wanted to know, otherwise how he should know how to help [Name] in whatever dry situation may occur, if he doesn't know what's wrong—his Aunt, thankfully, had given him the short story—and reprimanded Michelle not to get always so protective angry over [Name], when someones being curious about him.

It took a bit of time to figure out [Name]'s speech pattern and what he was trying to say at all, but James manages quite good—and could proudly disclaims himself as [Name]'s Translator.

»You do James? You really do?« Michelle crossed her arms, questionable raising her eyebrows at James—not believing him in the slightest, because her dear english cousin did actually once forget a promise to [Name] and boy of the lord, was her friend heartbroken about it.

»Yes, Michelle. I do. Here by I, James, declare my promise to [Name] and Orla, that I will bring tiny flags and build a great sandcastle.«

»My knightly knight James!« [Name] moved, albeit a bit harshly, away from James hold—giving a big smooch on the cheek—before jumping from his bed and taking Orla by hand and shouting down the stairs to his dad if the cake is ready for devouring.

James lips quirked into a smile, he really wouldn't mind another kiss from his prince.

[thejediscrolls]

I heart ?

Crosshair x reader

Who knew simply loving a man would be this difficult

Fluff / Angst (I mean it’s Crosshair)

Pt 4 of I Heart ?

Winters Eve

“You made it!” Clare dragged me into her apartment the second she opened the door.

“You invited me or should I say threatened?” I joked giving her a hug once I shrugged off my shoes and coat.

“I prefer heavy persuasion.” She said grabbing three of the bags I was carrying as we headed to the living room.

“Hey!” Echo motioned to stand, quickly greeting me with a hug, “Happy Winters Eve!”

“Happy Winters Eve Echo!” I smiled returning his hug, but being careful not to squish the other three gift bags I was carrying, “I hope you don’t mind.” I said as I took a step back holding out the smallest gift bag decorated in blue, “The gift that I got you matches Fives so you’ll be getting that tomorrow, but don’t worry, I got you a little something for today.”

“What you do for the boys and I are more than enough.” He patted my head with his hand.

I smiled before stepping around him to say hello to the others, “Happy Winter’s Eve!” I spoke as cheerfully as I could.

“Happy Winter’s Eve!” They boys yelled, greeting me with raised spatchka glasses.

At least everyone except for Cross. He sat reclined in the loveseat, closest to the window. He barely acknowledge my existence, keeping his gaze on the speeders that flew by.

I took off my coat and scarf, hanging it up on Clare’s coat wrack, “What are you all up too?” I asked.

“Just reliving battle stories while Tech and Clare make dinner.” Hunter explained as he leaned back into his seat.

“That’s nice, mind if I sit in and hear a few?” I asked taking a step in the living room.

“Of course! You have to tell a story of your own though, those are the rules!” Wrecker pushed me into the loveseat next to Cross before taking a seat on the floor.

“Where was I?” Hunter hummed in thought, “Ah right, so the night was dark and it was only Tech and I walking through the thick forest…”

I was so immersed in Hunter’s story and Wrecker’s sound effects I almost missed the soft words spoken beside me.

“You look pretty.”

I turned my attention to Cross, pink dusting my face as I stared at him, “What was that?”

“I said you don’t look shitty.” He coughed, quickly turning his gaze back to the window.

I scoffed, a smile creeping on my face, “You don’t look shitty yourself.”

“How did you get dragged into this?” He wondered.

I pushed some hair behind my ear, “I usually spend Winter’s Eve alone working, but Clare thought that was taboo and now here I am.”

“Alone… I didn’t expect that.” Cross replied, glancing at me.

“There’s a lot of things that are unexpected of me.” I joked, “Keeps everyone on their toes.”

Cross let out a soft laugh, something that I would hold onto like my favorite stuffed animal pan pan, who I’ve had with me since I was young.

“Alright you’re next!” Wrecker yelled at me causing me to laugh.

“We’ll, I’ve never been into battle… But! There is this one story I know...” I gave Echo a notorious grin.

“Don’t you dare.” He warned, his usually calm eyes turning into a glare.

“The story is called… The battle of the Domino twins and the ghost of Naboo.” I wiggled my fingers to give it more of a dramatic effect.

“Speak up! We want to hear this!” Clare called from the kitchen.

Echo sunk into his seat, a grim look on his face.

“It all began when Echo and Fives were assigned to escort Senator Amidala back to Naboo… They thought it was a simple mission, but little did they know they would be getting the fright of their lives…”

I was half way through the story, “Echo and Fives were on high alert as they roamed the halls of the palace. Guns raised and hearts raising at the threat of an unforeseen force stalking their every movement. It was around the corner of a pillar when they heard it… A low growl that would make a grown man cry out in fear. They took slow steps, not knowing if it was really true. A ghost in the halls of Naboo, a spirit they would have to face. The growling got louder, their footsteps grew closer. They turned the corner and…”

I had the boys hanging on the edge of there seats when…

“Rawr!” I yelled as loud as I could.

“Ahg!” Wrecker jumped, falling over his seat as he hit the ground with a thud.

I held my stomach as I laughed along with the boys.

“Dinner!” Clare called out from the kitchen.

“I’ll help with the table.” I called at to her as I stood up.

“What was it?” Crosshair asked before I could stray too far.

“It was a loth cat, a pet that one of the young servants had brought in from their home planet Lothal.” I answered patting Echo’s shoulder who sat on the couch with an annoyed and embarrassed look on his face.

“Don’t be so glum. You domino twins fought well.” I joked as I walked away.

“What dishes do I use?” I asked Clare as I stood at the open counter.

She stepped away from sitting the sauce and quickly grabbed dishes from one of her cabinets, “You’re a dear! Here are the dishes that you can use and…” Her voice trailed off as I reached for the dishes, the sleeve to my sweater riding up, “Whats that?” She wondered.

I glanced down to the silver cloud that glimmered in the light, a small blush forming over my cheeks.

“Oh, I was going to tell you about it a little later.” I took the delicate silver wear to the table and began to set.

“Ohhh.” A smirk formed on her face, “I know what that means.

“Shh.” I whispered to her while trying to be descreet and not catch the interest of the boys who were starting to head to the table.

It seems my efforts failed with Hunter’s impeccable hearing.

“Know what, what means?” Hunter asked as he helped set out the cloth napkins without being asked.

“Oh you know just something interesting.” Clare teased.

“That sounds like some gossip I’m hearing, now I have to know what’s going on.” Echo said, enter into the conversation as he sat down.

Soon Tech was bringing over the homemade pasta while Wrecker brought the tray of freshly baked bread.

“What’s this about gossip I hear?” Tech asked.

I couldn’t help, but groan as I took a seat next to Echo.

“Seems like someone has a secret admirer.” Clare finally stated and I knew that she was doing this to see if it would get a rise out of Crosshair.

I glanced towards him wear he sat next to Hunter. His gaze wouldn’t even meet mine as he grabbed a piece of bread.

“A secret admirer?” Echo turned towards me, “Since when?”

“Since…” I trailed off nervously.

“Since she got that pretty bracelet on her wrist.” Clare stated as she went around the table, platting everyone’s meal.

“What bracelet?” Asked Hunter.

Clare stood behind me as pulled up the sleeve of my left arm, showing the beautiful piece of jewelry.

“This bracelet. Isn’t it gorgeous? It must have cost them a fortune.” Clare gushed over the diamonds before filling up my plate with pasta.

My face was as red as her wine as I tried to disprove her, “How do you know I didn’t buy it for myself?”

“I have never once seen you buy anything for yourself aside from necessities. You’re too busy using your paycheck for new equipment parts for the boys.” Clare waved me off, a knowing look on her face.

“I didn’t know you used your own credits for us…” Echo stated, worried lines etching across his face.

“You weren’t suppose to know.” I stated glaring slightly at Clare and she blushed in embarrassment.

“Sorry…” She shrunk in her seat.

I sighed accepting the apology, “Besides, I would rather spend my credits on keeping you safe. Your lives are worth more than mine.”

“No it isn’t.” Crosshair spoke gruffly and the entire table fell silent, “Don’t speak so lowly of yourself, it’s discrediting as a head scientist.”

A warmth filled my heart at the hidden compliment in his words. I looked towards Cross wishing to meet his gaze, but his eyes didn’t lift up from his plate.

“So who do you think it is?” Echo asked to diffuse the growing tension.

Tech eyed the jewelry before glancing at Crosshair who was staring intently at his dinner. Just from the way Cross was acting, Tech knew exactly who bought it and was slightly impressed with his brother.

“Do you think it’s the engineer from sector b finally make a move?” Clare wondered.

I snorted at the thought, “I hope not.” I twirled the pasta on my fork.

“How come?” Wrecker asked.

“He just rubs me the wrong way.” I shrugged not wanting to get into it.

I took a bit of the pasta, practically melting at how amazing it taste, “Tech, Clare… You too are geniuses.” I praised, “What is it?”

“Carbonara.” Tech said.

Clare turned to Wrecker to continue the conversation since I was now fully immersed into my meal, “She’s just being nice, that guy has been stalking her for months! It’s a bit creepy.”

“That’s crazy!” Wrecker yelled.

“I know right? I wouldn’t be surprised if this was another attempt of his… Though the bracelet seems too expensive for him.” Clare hummed in thought.

Echo looked towards me wounded, “You have a stalker and didn’t tell me?”

I shrugged, “I didn’t think it mattered really, I’m pretty sure he’s harmless.”

“Are you an idiot?” Crosshair suddenly spoke up.

I looked up from my meal and towards him to find him already staring at me, “Excuse me?” I asked.

“You willing put up with a man stalking you. You haven’t reported him or let one of us know. What if something happens to you? Then what?” He sneered.

I set down my fork, “I can take care of myself perfectly fine.”

Crosshair’s scoff caused an annoyed look to appear on my face.

“What? You don’t think I could?” I snipped.

His smirk that once enamored me suddenly left me wanting to punch him in the face.

“I’ll see you at your funeral.” He grinned.

“Crosshair.” Hunter cut in to our growing feud.

“How about we finish this dinner instead of murdering each other hm?” Clare’s asked, “Maybe then we can have some dessert.”

Wrecker appeared happy at that information, looking to Clare for further information, “What’s for dessert?”

I tuned out their conversation focusing on glaring at the man furthest away from me. He returned my heated gaze with no intention of backing down.

Why did I ever find this man attractive? A smaller voice inside of me laughed at that. Why do you still do? It asked.

“Today was great. Thank you for inviting me.” I smiled at Clare as I headed out the door.

“Of course! And I’ll see you tomorrow at 79’s?” She asked.

I nodded, “I’ll be there.” I looked down at my watch, “I should go before the weather picks up.”

“Why don’t you have Crosshair drive you?” She asked.

I rolled my eyes, “Please. I’ve had enough of that man today.”

“So that’s what this is all about.” Echo smirked as he entered the hall.

My face heated up as I looked at him, “You tell no one or I’ll make sure everyone at the base knows you sleep with a purple panda bear stuffed animal that matches Fives blue panda bear.”

His eyes squinted, “You wouldn’t…”

I crossed my arms, “I would.”

Echo relented with a sigh, “Fine.” He said as he leant against the wall, “At least I know why he was acting all weird tonight.”

“Weird?” I wondered.

“Yeah. Crosshair never gets so passionate about someone’s safety.” Echo smirks looking towards Clare.

I couldn’t help, but feel nervous at the way they were having a weird silent conversation.

“What are you two doing?” I furrowed my eyebrows.

Echo nodded his head to the living room before…

“Crosshair! Why don’t you take my second best friend home? I don’t want her out by herself.” He stated to the grumpy sniper.

“Second?” I looked at Echo in offense, “Don’t tell me it’s Fives, you told us that we were equally your best friend.”

“That’s a great idea!” Clare cut off my rant before I could get into an argument with Echo, “Who knows what could happen out there this late at night.”

I could hear Crosshair’s grunt in annoyance. See when he stood up that unamused look on his face and watched as he sauntered over as if they just commended him to decommission.

“Really you don’t have to-”

He didn’t even let me finish before grabbing my wrist with a delicate grip that I would never had assumed from him and dragged me out the door. My two, now ex friends, have me a smirk as they wiggled their eyebrows and slammed the apartment door shut.

He didn’t speak a word as he led me towards his bike, silently placing his leather jacket over my shoulders to put on. Once I did, he handed me a helmet. I couldn’t help, but squint my eyes in confusion before I saw him swing one of his long leg over the black speeder. He gave me a look as he waited for me to get in behind him.

“Cross, I’ve never…” I motioned to the back, “Ridden one of these before.” I spoke quietly.

“I’ll go slow.” He nodded as carefully got on his speeder behind him, “Just hold onto me and don’t let go.”

Just hold onto him and don’t let go… Got it.

I wrapped my arm around his torso, jumping when he started up the speeder.

“So when are we going to-eeep!” I yelled out a strange noise as my light grip turned into clutching on to his torso for dear life, “I’m going to die!” I yelled leaning my helmet invaded head on his back as I shut my eyes tight.

He felt warm… Was the thought I clung to as I tried to even out my breathing. Halfway through the ride, I finally had enough courage to open my eyes and I was so pleased that I did. The lights passed by us in a blur like shooting stars. The wind made the experience even more enticing as I let out a small giggle.

It wasn’t too long before we were at my apartment complex, my eyebrows furrowing in light confusion.

“How do you know where I live?” I wondered as I slid off the helmet.

“Tech told me who learned it from Clare.” He answered simply, taking the helmet from me.

“Huh…” I nodded mindlessly as I got off the bike, my legs feeling suddenly shaky.

I was grateful to Cross as he held me steady until I could manage on my own.

“You going to be okay getting to your room?” He asked.

“Is that slight worry I hear?” I teased and when he only gave me a look I continued, “No. I’ll be okay, promise. Thank you… For taking me home.”

He nodded, slipping the helmet onto his own head. He did leave though and I watched him with concern.

“I won’t go until I know you’re safe inside.” He stated.

“Oh!” I blushed in slight embarrassment, the warm feeling returning to my chest at the small gesture, “I’ll get going then before you catch a cold.” I turned on my heel and began my trek towards the entrance.

The sudden call of my name had me turning towards him.

“Yes?” I asked.

“Don’t keep something as dangerous as a stalker to yourself. Come get me the next time he bothers you.” Crosshair said.

The small innuendo left me speechless for a moment before I recovered, “I will.” I nodded firmly.

He returned the gesture, though his was a lot smoother than mine. I decided that I best that I go so he wouldn’t have to wait there all night. I gave him a wave and my best smile before opening the door and heading inside. One thought left me sitting in clouds as I locked my apartment door for the night. I hung up my coat and took off my shoes before heading towards my room to get ready for bed, the small smile never leaving my face.

That soldier is something else…

Stay tuned!

Taglist

@ttzamara @kateii @brynhildrmimi @theamericanjewitch @dream2501 @spaghetti-666 @oldfriendobiwan @bomboclaaty @arctrooper69 @rintheemolion @starwarsdreams @crosshairsimp73 @palliateclaws

[ratatattouille]

Derry Girls in LOTR:

Orla: Wizard that shouldn’t have been a wizard but somehow is. Somehow gives even less helpful advice than Gandalf, and is twice as weird as Radagast. Radagast is her best friend, but Saruman is her favorite for some strange Orla-reason and she keeps stalking and startling him while he goes about his evil ways. When she gets bored of his tower, she goes on decade-long trips around Middle Earth. She is always amazed by Gandalf’s fireworks but can never replicate them without burning everyone and everything.

Michelle: Is OBVIOUSLY a dwarf! Specifically a Blacklock dwarf, with thick, billowing black hair and an equally thick and unkempt black beard. She is always talking about clubbing the heads off orcs despite having zero battle experience and threatens everyone as a formal greeting. She thinks all elves are racist, and all races that aren’t dwarves are inferior. Despite being very proud of her heritage, she is always getting names, details and dates mixed up to a comical degree. If anyone outside her line criticizes her facts, she verbally abuses them and their entire family. She describes Thorin Oakenshield as a “massive ride.”

Erin: An elf living in Rivendell that believes she’s super sophisticated, cultured and educated, but she’s really just fucking stupid. She says the most delusional things like “I think Elrond wants Legolas as a match for me” to her fellow elves and they feel both like they want to kill themselves and everything is funny when they’re around her. She makes them tired, but she also makes them laugh. They talk shit about her shitty art that isn’t getting better with years of practice for some confounded reason (although she writes good poetry, it’s just that she can’t recite it very well), but they will defend her honor and her life if threatened in a heartbeat because they love her as she loves them.

Clare: A hobbit. She’s a chubby, big-and-hairy-footed girl with the pinkest, roundest cheeks and the sunniest hair. Everyone in The Shire is in love with her idc. She’s of Took descent, and while very chipper and pretty, can also put you in your place so that you never imagine crawling out. People keep asking her when she’s going to accept any of the many proposals that are being dropped into her hobbit hole, but she can’t say that she spends her evenings eating cheese and improving prose and grammar of the letters so they sound more romantic. She dreams of adventure, but doesn’t think she has the guts for it. Until a wizard called Orla breaks into her home….

James: Smeegol.

[hatters-workshop]

Last night I finally watched the finale of His Dark Materials, and of course it made me cry. I've read the final chapters of the Amber Spyglass so many times, and cried at each one. Was it perfect for me? No. But it never could be, because perfect for each individual reader is impossible, and an unfair thing to hope something would achieve. But it was excellent. And Dafne and Amir acted their hearts out with those lines between Lyra and Will when they're raging against the fate they're faced with, and with their promises to each other, and they broke my little heart with it. And finally hearing the "every atom of you and every atom of me..." speech... ooft that kicked me in the gut in all the right ways.

But this morning I happened to read the poem by Clare Harner that goes

Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not there, I do not sleep

And I was hit suddenly by image after image invoked by each line, of each of them, old now and lying in bed (yes I want peace for them in the end. Some would want them to have a victorious or adventurous end but I think they deserve peace.) Pan pressing his face to Lyra's in a final embrace, and Kirjava pressing hers to Will's, and both humans whispering to their daemons that their atoms will find each other, just as they found each other when they were separated before, and Will telling Kirjava to keep Pan's atoms company while Will and Lyra find each other and look for them, and Lyra saying the same to Pan. They tell them that they know where the opening is, if they want to meet them there, but that they would find them either way. And Pan and Kirjava whisper an unneeded reminder to their humans: tell them stories.

And then a wisp of golden fire and Dust curls around a face in each world. Lyra sees her Death again, and they lead her as true as they did the first time. And Will meets his Death, and recognises them though its the first time they've met, but they lead him true, too.

And maybe Will and Lyra find each other in the land of the dead. I'm a romantic, and think even though they are so far apart and couldn't possibly know that the other was dying, they die in the same moment in their own worlds, whatever their lives have gone on to be. Because the universes kept them from being reunited in life, the least they could do is let them see each other again in death, and even with all the changes of their lives and the years they've lived, they know each other instantly. How could they not? And it's a feeling like finding something precious you have looked for every day of your life (because they have) and finally feeling the relief of finding it, and their ghosts are thin and cold and made of almost nothing. They should pass through each other, except they're made of the same kind of nothing. It doesn't feel like it did when they were in their bodies, but it's enough. Soon they'd be closer than they ever could be naturally in life. And they’re the closest they’ve been in so long. So for now, it's enough to hold each other, hand in thin, cold, ghostly hand.

They are at the jetty and the ferry man greets them, and at first he doesn't know them. He hasn't ferried anyone twice before, and he hasn't been hugged and greeted as an old friend, and Lyra wishes she could jokingly scold him for making her leave Pan last time but even now, decades later that wound is too fresh to come out as a joke, and she misses Pan even though she knows she'll be with him again soon, so she let's the chance for the joke go, and they talk to him the whole journey. They don't know if he's alive, or dead, or some other form that is just his, but he looks so genuinely cheery as they speak to him, in a way that his face looks unfamiliar with being, with so many years of his heavy duty weighing on him until now.

They tell him what happened last time they were here, of how they found their daemons like they said they would, and how the opening would let everyone he ferries back out into the world. He looks genuinely shocked at the news.

"Did no one tell you?" They ask.

"Who would tell me?" He replies.

So they tell him, that his job is not to escort people to a prison, but to deliver them back into the world to rejoin every living thing. That the people he ferries need only tell the harpies their stories: and stories, as long as they’re true, of what they saw in life, no matter how small or boring or painful, and to tell them the good news. And the weight lifted from him further, his back straightened and his face brightened, and as they stepped to the shore, he waved to them rather than regretfully returning to his collections as he had every other time, and they heard the echoes of him whispering the phrase they passed down the line last time they'd been there: "Tell them stories."

And no sooner has the sounds of the lap of his boat been eaten by the mist, but they are replaced by flutter of heavy wings.

Of Gracious Wings.

The voice that greeted them was familiar but different: still loud and bold, but it has lost its strained, cracked and painful sound. Her lips were pink instead of the red of caked, vomited blood, and her hair hung soft around her face. A diet of varied stories, even for just the years of Will and Lyra's life, exchanged for millennia of screeching cruelties in the ears of the dead, has clearly suited her, and the smell of putrefaction had faded entirely. She welcomed them, and other harpies gathered themselves around the little ghosts, as they had all been waiting to hear these tales most of all, and they will pass them on to the others, the ones that are away guiding the ghosts to their freedom, so that they can enjoy the tales too.

So Lyra and Will began at the beginning, though they knew that some of it had already been heard by their audience. They added to each other's stories, filling in details and perspectives. It wasn't a short story, and though they were eager to rejoin the world, they enjoyed the reminiscence of the triumphs, and even the pain of the losses and separations could not be skipped over, as they were all a part of their story and to avoid any part of it would be a disrespect to each other.

But then their story as each other know it finishes: their final clumsy kiss before closing the window between their worlds. Every word from then on is new, and they watch each others lips make the shapes of their tales, food for each other as much as for the harpies. The only shared touch point was every year, their shared moment of peace and closeness each Midsummer. They learned of each other's friends and families, loves and losses. Of Will's life with his mother and Mary, and Lyra's learning in St Sophia's and reconnecting with the alethiometer at long last. Of who they were leaving behind in their own worlds, who would mourn them, despite their promises that they were going to go on to be a part of in every world. And as they reached the end of their stories as they could be told; as they reach that very moment, sitting on the floor of the world of the dead, surrounded by harpies and holding each others hands, their words ran out as they just. Look at each other. And smile. Hand held in cold, thin, ghostly hand.

So they rose, and Gracious Wings escorted them personally to the window they had made so long ago now. They waited their turn, though the queue was constantly moving on eager ghostly feet, desperate to return to the world as were, to feel the sun’s rays on their face once more, before they become part of those rays.

They take a moment, hanging back as other ghosts pass through, to look back out across that other world’s horizon. With delight they find it’s changed for the better: the huge seed pod trees seem to be growing stronger and healthier, and though they only had a small view through the window, there are no signs of them dying off like they were before.

They whispered amongst themselves briefly about doing as Will’s father and Lee Scoresby and all those brave people that held their ghosts together to step out into the world to fight in Asriel’s last stand against Metatron. To hold their particles together long enough to return to the mulefa’s world, revisit the trees they knew, see that spot by the river where they held those little red fruits to each other’s lips.

“No,” says Will at length. “We’ve made Kirjava and Pan wait long enough. We’ve waited long enough, too.”

“Plus,” Lyra says, almost giddy, “Soon enough we’ll be part of that river and those berries and everything else too.”

So they step up to the edge of the window, and smell the air and feel the warmth of the sun with the last time on these faces.

Do not stand at my grave and weep.

I am not there. I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.

I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain.

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry –

I am not there. I did not die.

[ae-neon]

The House of Mirrors

Chapter 12 & 13 - [ao3 link]

TRIGGER WARNINGS

chapter 12 is a little gory

mentions of abuse and drugs

implied miscarriage

torture, including drowning

death and dismemberment

Chapter 12

Nesta Archeron had never been a dreamer. Not in the sense that she had no desires, but that her own mind had never been a place of escape, even in sleep.

Her dreams were memories – hauntings – moments in time she could not run from. Her mind, her body, a prison.

Tomas had kissed her hand the first time they met.

And greeted her with a kiss every moment after that. Even just to say good morning. Even on the bad days, after nights of screaming – her glass of champagne shattered against the cream walls, his hands grabbing at her. Nesta too angry, too drunk and Tomas too proud, too enraged for either to see sense.

Even on the days when she felt like poison, when she opened the box she’d stuffed away in the handbag section of her closet and sat to mourn, on days he wasn’t sure Nesta ever loved him as much as she had loved Clare. When he felt small and become his father’s son, left bruises on her skin and saw, behind Nesta’s burning eyes, glimpses of fear and regret.

Even when, in their deepest grief, they had spent the pre-dawn hours in a hospital room mourning a life that could have been. And all of Nesta’s darkest thoughts had laid on her like six feet of soil.

Tomas had always, always, greeted her with a kiss.

So, her dreams of him always started that way; a kiss, soft and warm, his lips to her cheek, or forehead, or shoulder. She stirred; her body accustomed to his sensory alarm.

But that day the weather had already turned, cold air ushered into Silverlake valley from the North Sea. And, unburdened by obligation, she’d let herself drift back to sleep under the thick blankets that reminded her of Scythian winters. When she blinked, hours later, she found the bed empty. A glance through the windowpane that made up the western wall of their bedroom reflected the world in a similar sleepy mood, quiet under its own blanket of drizzle.

Nesta climbed from the bed in her Valkyrie jersey and woollen socks, made her way across the hardwood floor to the window. From it she could gaze down at the deck or straight across the lake to the row of new houses where Clare had moved in months ago. She remembered it so well, that heart stopping moment when they’d run into each other in the grocery store. And in an artisanal cafe, on a late summer afternoon filled with sweet tea and salty tears, Clare had alleviated almost a decade of guilt from Nesta’s strained frame.

She wasn’t stupid enough to hope or dream for what might have been – old enough to understand that, at this point, Clare was only a beloved stranger. What she and Tomas had went beyond the boundaries of marriage and business, Nesta was almost convinced they were each other’s fate. Some cosmic justice for being born such wretches. But she was glad to have a friend so close.

In the dream, the memory, she stood at her window. Watched Tomas walk to the dock at the end of their lawn, umbrella in hand as Clare and her wife, Sarah, drove their little deck boat over.

She and Tomas had been fighting all week, his nerves fried over the loss of some oil rich client. It didn’t matter. Nesta was done with that life, done with those men and the city that drew them. She’d come out to the lake in self-exile, had withdrawn from her husband and father’s businesses – leaving them better than she had found them, so she felt no guilt at extracting herself.

And, while he might have been torn on it before, Tomas had reeled himself in after the baby. He’d handed over most of his lower maintenance clients to his brothers, switched his permanent residency to the lake house and begun to do business more remotely. The week before he’d cooked for her every night. Only to suddenly turn sensitive and secretive. She’d hounded him at first, pushing too hard the way she always did, then frozen him out when he had not given in.

But weekends were a neutral zone.

Clare, who had cut off her parents and become a nurse, and Sarah, who owned the real estate company in charge of most of the property around Silverlake, were normal people. People far removed from the whirlwind Nesta and Tomas had called a life. They were enthralled by their stories; of holidays in Lapplund when the sun did not set for a month, of hiking mountains to visit a Xianese temple older than the city of Velaris, of sun-drenched coke benders in Neva and club hopping with the billionaire son of a crime lord in Ravenna.

To them, Nesta and Tomas were living daydreams.

 And Nesta thought that might have soothed something in her husband, warmed him to people he might otherwise ignore. He’d always existed at the bottom of the upper crust. To her – the immigrant daughter of a then middling businessman – he’d been someone she would and had risked everything for. But to Tomas, his life had been a marathon of endurance. Always forced to capitulate to digs and jibes from his friends and clients so that he might stay in the unending race.

But to a normal person like Sarah – as normal as a real estate millionaire could be – Tomas was a man born great, who had worked to become even greater. Someone who stoked her ambitions, someone she could engage on long talks about the market and turn to for advice.

Clare had never really been greedy and Nesta had spent almost a decade of her life in service of it. They never talked of money. Instead, missing each other terribly, they had fallen back into old habits and started a two-person book club.

There were times it was almost laughable; a table of people born in the upper-middle class celebrating not failing at the basics of life. But the merits were palpable enough in smiles, laughter and comfort that Nesta always held back her more cynical thoughts. It hadn’t been easy, not when her father-in-law had ambushed them with off the record debts, or that he’d died before Tomas could fully pay them off. Nesta understood the pursuit of an approval that would never come was a practice in self-mutilation. And that a stranger's praise, their adoration, might ease that pain for a while.

She turned from the window and the memory slipped through time, day to night, dream to nightmare.

She was naked, dripping wet and shaking violently. Might have tasted the blood that filled her nose if her throat did not burn from the water that had clogged it moments ago. The hand in her hair yanked her body upright and Nesta struggled to get her trembling legs to support her, still coughing, her stomach muscles convulsed in an attempt to purge the water she swallowed before she’d begun breathing it in.

“…wants you to save him…” she wasn’t sure if her ears were clogged with water or if her eardrums had somehow burst while she drowned. Was drowned. Held there by hands so strong they felt iron. She coughed again and her ears popped, the haze of her vision clearing as she blinked through burning eyes.

Nesta only registered the first swing of the meat cleaver because, to her left, Clare screamed. To her right, just far enough into her periphery that Nesta was spared the worst of it, blood began to splatter. Finally, she could feel her legs again and see Tomas on his knees a few feet ahead of her.

He wasn’t looking at anything but her. Eyes red from crying, breathing hard through his nose, a strip of tape across his mouth as the vein that ran along his temple strained under the skin. Some strange part of her mind wanted to go to him, to hold him, to press his head of chocolate curls to her chest. Another wanted to scream, distantly registering what was happening beside her. But the part of her brain that was present enough to react only lifted her arms to shield her body, to fight for some modicum of modesty and pride.

Eventually they had finished with Sarah, her debt paid in blood, and Clare had been put into a drug induced coma. Nesta was on her knees, head cranked back as the man hunched down beside her, explained everything. She was only halfway listening, her eyes numbly fixed on the ceiling fan. Her mind had gone cold somewhere between watching Clare go limp and the explanation of the deal Sarah had made, the one Tomas had vouched for. A plan that had failed. Part of her already knew what would come next.

Finally, the hands – one at her throat, the other fisted in her still dripping hair – yielded. The man, hair more salt than pepper and dressed in a suit so plain it might have looked unremarkable if Nesta hadn’t recognized the Monteseran stitch, was still talking. His dark eyes were almost manic in contrast to the serenity in his voice and face.

“He broke his promise. Worse, he made a promise he knew he could never keep. Thought this,” he gestured vaguely at the pile of flesh to the right, “realtor and her silly ideas could make up for what he was losing. Of course, it could not. He is a man with no appraisal talent.

But, how come then, had he done so well, investing in GemTech, Solaris and LuXi Beauty before anyone else could see what they would become? What was I missing? I am a thorough man but, admittedly, I am not good with all these new things: lookbook, chirping bird, picture arts. So it took me a while but...there you were.”

Nesta’s eyes found Tomas’ face again, bloodier this time. Weakly, he lifted his head, and something broke in her at seeing the effort it took, the pain cleaving through her chest. His hazel eyes, even half swollen shut, locked onto hers and Nesta began to silently weep.

The man stood and beckoned for something to be brought over, “I noticed your father’s business had seen a turn of fortune around the same time your husband had.

And I, Mrs Mandray, am a man with a very strong talent for appraisal. I see in you, something priceless. So, we will make a new deal. You and I.”

The man leaned down again, brushed a trail of tears from her face before he cupped her chin and said, “I will give you a chance to fix things. And, as a gift, I will let you choose which one lives and which one dies. A little test. Let us see, hm, what you are made of.”

Tomas had always greeted her with a kiss. But Nesta never got the chance to kiss him goodbye.

Chapter 13

The Church of Ramiel, built 153 years ago by Balthazar Noros Erion for his wife, Emelia, had becoming the beating heart of what was then called Little Illyria and now known as the Southshore. It sat on a hill, the closest thing to a mountain here, south of the Sidra and stood like beacon for its people.

The gray roughhewn stone of the building set the Church apart from the redbrick and pale plastered look of other boroughs in Velaris. The rest of the neighbourhood tried too for a sense of recreation: family-owned delis that offered horsemeat, coffeeshops that stocked goat's milk and bakeries that sold organic fruit jams. Here and there bar and restaurants that screamed 'rugged' and shops that incorporated traditional designs and motifs into modern clothing. But it could not escape the sense of pretense, of holding onto an idea so hard it moulded into a cliche.  

Rhys had grown out of thinking of Southshore as part of him once he’d done his military service in Illyria. The thick authenticity of that experience – rural mountain towns, freshly slaughtered food, handmade candies passed out by old women, children who barely spent any time in school yet spoke better Illyrian than he ever managed – had turned the Southshore into a cheap balm, never truly able to relieve his secondary homesickness.

He could not imagine how much more torturous it was for his mother. Or perhaps it was that degree of separation – where her homesickness was raw, life unfiltered by a mirror image reflected in the steel and glass of Velaris – that made her appreciate the condensed, almost tropey version of home she found here.

She looked happy, beguiling her fellow parishioners with tales and trinkets from her trip. Rhys leaned against his car, happy to wait as long as it took but playing his part as the impatient city slick son. Finally, his mother glanced back at him – the unspoken signal – and he stood, checked his watch then got in the driver’s seat. A few minutes later, his mother climbed in beside him, head still halfway out the door as she dragged out her exit. He turned on the heat, knowing she’d need it, had never met an Illyrian so ill fitted to the cold.

Finally, she shut the door and immediately brought her hands up to the vents, sighing in relief as her fingers regained their colour, “Oh, what a beautiful service. And Tasha’s boy, I can’t believe how he’s shot up, old enough to be anointed now.” A soft, sentimental look crossed her face, and she gave an exaggerated frown, like a child ready to burst into tears, “I remember when you and Cassian were anointed, barely up to my hip and look at you now.”

His mother reached across to stroke at his hair and Rhys did not deny her, leaning into the touch, comforted by the soft scent of her favourite perfume, “A man, and all set to be wed.” she said softly. Then, more strongly, “I understand how things are done, but I must admit I am excited to meet this girl.”

“Soon, I promise.” He met her gaze, their eyes the exact same shade of almost violet, and let out a breathy laugh at the moisture in her eyes. “You can miss me when I’m gone. For now, I was thinking we might visit An’Isa then get some groceries before dinner at Uncle Dev’s.”

His mother fished her phone from her bag, “I will have to see your An’Isa tomorrow, I want to stop by the shop, I have a special order. You can do the shopping in the meantime.”

Thinking his route through, he made his way out of the streets of Southshore, wet and splattered with autumn leaves after the morning rain - to the inner city, to its sleek and shiny silver quarter.

The food marts he’d find there would be overpriced, filled with whole-grain/ gluten-free/ low-fat/ full-cream/ tofu/ soy/ oat/ potato/ hemp-based alternatives, isles patrolled by domestic helpers, chefs, and nannies rather than the people the food was meant for. But it would be a waste of time to drive out and come back, especially this close to the end of the day. He considered asking Mor, sure she would know, or at least find, the best place to pick up food that didn’t taste like it had been grown in a sterile lab.

Finally, the boutique came into view, it’s double doors wide open despite it being closed for the day. Parked out of the way a truck had workers carrying boxes into the store as Nuala stood just outside, instructing both the men handling the parcels and the boutique staff on what went where. He pulled up alongside the wide sidewalk and dropped his mother off, “I’ll be done in maybe an hour or so, text me if you need anything.”

~

Nesta exited the taxi and self-consciously smoothed over the fabric of her grey-blue turtleneck. A week ago, she’d been tripping over herself with plans of what she’d wear once she was no longer regulated to the formal status of widower, had even joked with herself about buying a jack-o-lantern sweater to celebrate the season. And not just clothes; shopping with her sisters, drinking with her friends, even a dinner with the man who would take the mantle of her father’s company.

All of her anticipation had turned to ash in her mouth the night of the gala. And her dreams had been nightly torture since.

In a cruel twist of irony, she had spent her first week free in hiding. Hiding in so far as locking herself in her suite could be considered hiding. Though it was no use, and in theory, she knew Victor Hughes, Kingpin of the Hybernian syndicate, was not after her. He would keep his promise; he would not hurt her family. But it was by that same almost predictable familiarity, that she knew that did not mean she didn’t have to worry about whatever he did have planned.

“Ah!” a dark-skinned woman, one of the twin managers, was out on the pavement in front of the store managing a change of stock, “Miss Archeron, so lovely to see you again. Ayana should be just inside but ask for the owner if you get lost.”

Nesta smiled, “Thanks.”

She was a little surprised to piece together that the designer she’d been corresponding with was the owner of Astra Ardour itself. Felt a little embarrassed at the casual familiarity with which she’d asked for custom alterations given how much the woman must already do – and given that Nesta suspected she was not one of the VIP customers whose names alone would afford them special treatment.

Inside, she navigated past employees carrying mannequins and blasting music as they transformed the boutique. She made her way to the upper floor of offices where the designer had said she could pick up her coat.

The door to the office marked Ayana Demitza was already ajar but Nesta knocked rather than announce herself.

At the soft rapt a woman, a little older than middle age – streaks of grey raked through her pulled back ponytail – looked back from where she was crouched over a handful of open boxes, “Oh, come in. You must be Nesta.”

“And you, Ayana, it’s a pleasure – a privilege, really – to finally meet you.”  

[clacesource]

From Cassandra Clare's Newsletter

MEMORANDUM FROM: J. C. HERONDALE, NEW YORK INSTITUTE TO: ALL INSTITUTE HEADS IN RE: HAIR

Greetings, fellow Shadowhunters, Downworlders, and in-the-know mundanes. Jace Lightwood Herondale here, your favorite Shadowhunter and three-time winner of the Golden Stele for Most Attractive and Sinewy Institute Head[1]. Recently it has been brought to my attention that I have been the victim of a terrible slander. I present this report today, to be sent in fire-message format to all Institute Heads worldwide: to correct the record, yes, but more importantly to provide a more thorough survey of the relevant information regarding the New York Institute and its main officers.

I. SITUATION REPORT

As you know, a schism has caused our homeland of Idris to be occupied by an insurgent, reactionary faction of Nephilim. This has severed the Clave’s ability to enter Idris and to engage in normal governmental operations. As a result, the New York Institute has become a much more central and important location than ever before. Not only are we now the home office of the Consul-in-Exile, the Headmaster of the Shadowhunter Academy-Also-in-Exile as well as the Warlock and Werewolf representatives to the Council, we are also the closest Institute to said Academy and therefore charged with its defense. As such, the interests of the New York Institute can be said to truly be commensurate with the interests of the Clave at large.

II. THE SLANDER

A most dire accusation has been made against me, and in doing so, it has impacted the morale of my Institute, which, as per §1, is of utmost importance at this precarious time in Shadowhunter history.

Specifically, I have been accused of DYEING MY HAIR.

III. THE RESPONSE

The accusation is, unfortunately, not more specific than this. It is unclear if the accuser means to suggest that I merely add artificial highlights to my hair, or that I use dye to alter its natural hue -- or much more dire allegations. That I, perhaps, actually use bleach to lighten my hair to the blond color for which it is famous across six continents, or even that I might have need to mask the appearance of early-onset gray hairs.

Let me be clear: none of these have any basis in fact. My hair is and has only ever been its own natural shade and tone, inherited genuinely from my parents and untouched by any treatment or modification by magic or chemical. Its thick texture, gentle waves, and brilliant luster are merely the result of good fortune and a regular regimen of washing and conditioning.

To suggest otherwise is to undermine the cause of the liberation of Idris and to weaken the resolve of our allies.

A few, more given to conflict resolution than I, have tried to find a position of compromise, suggesting that it is possible that my hair has been positively affected by the experiments my father performed on me as an infant involving angel blood. It is true that I cannot fully rule out the possibility. But I strongly doubt it, and I believe you should as well, for one can find (through rigorous searching) hair that is nearly as superb as mine even among the mundane population, who obviously have not benefited from any such magics.

IV. RELEVANCE TO THE NEW YORK INSTITUTE AT LARGE

While the slander has been directed solely at me, the other main representatives of the New York Institute are also aggrieved, and feel strongly that an attack on the hair of one of us is an attack on the hair of all of us. To that end, and at their request[2], I want to provide reassurances regarding the current status of the hair of all of us here. I hope that it will offer comfort and optimism in this dark time. I have provided a helpful letter grade for each of those mentioned here, using the standard measure where “S” is the highest grade, followed by A, B, C, D, F. My own hair will be used as the S-tier standard.

CLARY FAIRCHILD If anyone on this list qualifies for the highest tier, it is of course Clary Fairchild, the co-head of the Institute and my constant beloved. Her hair is of the finest red color, shining gold in the light and flowing around her face in waves that only serve to highlight the natural blush of her cheeks and the freckles which so fetchingly decorate her face. To look upon Clary is to be reminded of the beauty given to us by the Angel; to run one’s hands through her hair is to weep with the beauty of this world. RANK: S

SIMON LOVELACE Unfortunately, Clary’s parabatai’s hair has suffered greatly, perhaps the most of any of us, with the rupturing of the Clave. Out of sorrow and discontent he has, unwisely, been dedicating a significant portion of his time to his rock band, in which he plays the electric bass guitar alongside several mundanes (of no other consequence). Under the wretched influence of these mundanes, he has made an attempt at lightening his own hair to create an effect he described to me as “kinda punk and a little emo, but also not.” I cannot tell you what this is intended to mean: only that applying bleaching agents to his previously completely acceptable brown hair has turned it an unpleasant color which Clary has labeled “chromium green.” For the moment, he looks as though he has a dead snake on his head. Both Clary and Isabelle have volunteered to shave the green out of his hair entirely, but he has so far avoided their clippers and announced he will wait for it to grow out naturally. All of us here are looking forward to his full recovery in time; rest assured that, like the loss of Idris, Simon’s appalling appearance is only temporary. RANK: D (under normal circumstances: B).

ISABELLE LIGHTWOOD As in all things, Isabelle Lightwood’s hair is immaculate and worthy of the great admiration it inspires. The contrast between her and Simon Lovelace is always quite striking, but never more so than now, as her appearance lights up each room she enters while his prompts questions about possible chemical spills and comparisons to a fictional mundane character known as “The Joker.” (Again, his situation is temporary, and we trust he will be restored to full strength soon.) When braided and set for battle, Isabelle’s hair inspires her allies and strikes fear into demons. RANK: S

ALEC LIGHTWOOD Here we have a curious situation, it is true that Alec Lightwood’s hair is the parabatai to my own. As such, it is attractive, steadfast, brave, and rousing. Alas, while the hair itself is fine material, he simply WILL NOT TAKE CARE OF IT THE WAY I TELL HIM TO. No matter how many excellent products are gifted to him, no matter how many times he is lured into a fine salon with a promise that it is actually an arrow shop, the Consul continues to look as if he cuts his hair in the dark with nail scissors. And yet - allowances must be made. Our Consul struggles beneath a heavy burden of responsibility, by which I mean he has two children who constantly put gum in his hair. Considering all he has to face, I cannot but feel that the hair of Alec Lightwood is hair that one would not hesitate to follow into battle, which is what truly matters. RANK: A

MAGNUS BANE At this moment in time, Magnus Bane, the Consul’s husband and warlock representative to the Council, has hair that cannot be achieved through mundane or even Shadowhunter means. Though largely black, it is shot through with flecks of gold, and at the tips it faded smoothly to an electric blue that closely resembles the color of his own magic. As always, Magnus takes a look that might not pass muster on a lesser man and makes it not only his own, but a target of envy from all around him. It is widely believed (though denied) that such an effect is what Simon Lovelace was hoping to attain in his recent unlucky tonsorial experiments. That the effect of his hair can only be created so perfectly with the use of magic does not diminish what Magnus manages to achieve here. RANK: A

CHURCH THE CAT While the oddly long-lived cat known as Church is currently residing in the UK under the care of others, he was a longtime resident of this Institute and is still considered by most of us here as a kind of unofficial mascot. Recent photos have confirmed that, as befits a cat of the New York Institute, Church continues to have a fine, rich coat of the slate-blue color normally associated with his Persian breeding. Despite his usual bad temper, he is a fastidious groomer and keeps himself free of mats and unsightly tufts of shedding fur. His color is set off by his luminous gold eyes, which provide an excellent contrast. His coat presents an excellent picture when seen as a whole, but special consideration should be made to its greatest details, namely the slightly lighter color between his toes, and the tufts that rise from his owl-like ears. RANK: S

V. CONCLUSION

I hope that the thoroughness of the information contained here has brought reassurance and inspiration to all those who receive it. To sum up, my own hair has never been better, and remains entirely natural in its source. The state of the hair of the New York Institute is strong, and with the exception of a single mishap, which we are recovering from, we foresee only positive developments in the domain of our hair in the months and years to come.

Yours in the Name of the Angel, Jace Herondale

[1]This award was created by Clary Fairchild and is presented once a year on my birthday by a jury consisting of only the most discerning and aesthetically informed Nephilim available: specifically, Clary Fairchild.

[2]Or at least, with only their mildest objection.

[dandylion240]

Father and son are reunited and Maja faces a decision. Will Clare accept her decision or convince to change her mind? Or will Clare be distracted by a choice of her own? The next chapter of the Van Winkle Legacy is available on WP Blog if you want to read it now otherwise it'll be queued up and posted throughout the week.

Maja Lundstrom was made by @wannabecatwriter

Clare Littlefield was made by @dstarstories

[nerdasaurus1200]

Day 2- Hurt/Comfort

For today’s prompt I decided to post some New Dream hurt/comfort headcanons!

Obligatory Tags: @autumn-sundrop @the-writer1988 @seadrreams @our-newdream

When Rapunzel left the tower, naturally she couldn’t go through the night without nightmares. She ended up developing a habit of sneaking out of her room and into Eugene’s room so they could cuddle cause she never had a nightmare with him. Sometimes she’d tell him about the nightmares, but if she wouldn’t Eugene would know it’s a really bad one

Eugene can always tell when Rapunzel had had an extremely bad day at work. Her feet will drudge a little, her smile is so forced, and the tiredness her voice is very thinly veiled with her usual cheeriness. And so like any good husband would Eugene greets Rapunzel with a bowl of hazelnut soup that he cooked himself. It took him a couple tries to get the recipe just right but Rapunzel always appreciates it

Whenever Eugene is homesick for Vardaros, Rapunzel will make him plum gravy with tons of balsamic just like Miss Clare used to do

Rapunzel’s always felt bad that Eugene doesn’t have a childhood doll like she does, so to make up for it, she made him a complete set of the Flynn Rider characters as dolls

Everytime Rapunzel has a nightmare about anything, Eugene grabs her softest blanket and her old doll Sunshine for her

Inspired by @twotangledsisters’s piece, whenever Eugene is sick Rapunzel will read him the Flynn Rider books

On the balloon ride back to Corona, Eugene woke up one night to find Rapunzel crying in her sleep. He instantly came closer and snuggled her.

When Rapunzel saw Eugene’s scar from Gothel for the first time, she couldn’t help but just burst into tears. She felt so awful because her magic had never left a scar before but Eugene reassured her it was okay. Cause he looks at that scar and is reminded of when he got unbelievably lucky enough to get a second chance with the love of his life.