#internalized homophobia tw

[hiwonoafu]

[lovewheeler]

— dear diary...: four.

back to the beginning (masterlist) / three. / five.

tw for some mentions of internalized homophobia and homophobia in general (unfortunately this is the 80's)

♥*♡∞:｡.｡ to maxine mayfield,

i haven't written one of these in...years. since i was fourteen, actually. haven't felt the need to. whatever.

i think you made me realize i like girls.

i hate this. i hate it, i hate it, the way i like you. i shouldn't. but my hands get clammy around you and my mouth gets dry. i feel like i'm always trying to impress you, to make you like me. and you do like me, but i'm trying to get you to like me in a way i don't think either of us are prepared to deal with.

last night you talked to me about how you like girls. how you're afraid because of what people would say. "you see how they talk to will", you said, "you see how they push him around". you said you don't want to hurt lucas because yeah, you like girls, but you like boys, too, and you really like him, but you're scared that you might never get to explore every part of yourself. i sat there and held you and cried with you because i didn't know how to articulate that i understand. completely.

you guys all stopped by my house today and asked my mom why i wasn't at mike's for our newest campaign. i saw mike's impala in the driveway. i told her to tell you that i was sick, but it was really that i couldn't bring myself to come out to face any of you. especially you. these feelings feel wrong, like i shouldn't be having them. i don't think i should. but you're everything i like, everything i want, wrapped up in the most pretty, soft package. it's hell. i feel like i'm in hell.

all day i've been in bed, staring at the ceiling and rethinking every single interaction we've ever had. how maybe it wasn't all friendly, because friends don't look at each other like that, do they? they don't get so close they might kiss and then decide that they need to go home for the night. they don't snuggle and talk about how everything feels so much better with each other than it does with anyone else. now i'm wondering if my crush on lucas was misplaced.

i've been unpacking a lot. you know i hate acknowledging my feelings. you know everything about me, i know you do, and that's what makes this so fucking hard. i need to erase this, all of these stupid feelings, because i know the second you see me you'll grab my hand in yours and ask if i'm okay. it's the fucking worst and i love it so much. you and your stupid, stupid, stupid perfect self. i wish i'd never met you in middle school.

i don't mean that.

it's just -- like i yearn for you. for the life we could have if we were in san francisco or something. we could run off like we always talk about, and have a dog. maybe some cats. i sound like a goddamn idiot.

you're my biggest what if, i think. if we were born twenty years into the future maybe i'd feel better about this. maybe i wouldn't feel like my heart is being ripped out everytime it skips a beat at the thought of you. i feel like i'm on fire, all the time, because you're the one thing i want in this stupid hellish town and i can't fucking have you. you know i've never been good with that.

you're my best friend. and i guess i just need to be happy with what i can get.

i love you, my maxie. so much more than i ever wanted to.

a/n: ah, yes. baby's first heartbreak. a whirlwind of gay feelings. i may have cried a bit writing this. lesbian tears

✧･ﾟ — taglist (just comment letting me know or send an ask to be tagged! <3): @dilflover3333 @bbymochi1 @amourrs @fentibeauty @moonylantsovs @sspikey69 @sage111222 @ronaldiary @thel0v3hashira143 @livieweasley @larryrickardlover @littletroublegirl444 @fairyqueenxx007 @maxmayfieldsrealgf1986 @southernvamp @cybergiirl @softpia @the-great-himbo

[auspexsims]

occult legacy - javier sörensson

javi aged up to adult and malcolm invited him out 🥺 to a town in the opposite direction of the better nightclubs in oasis springs. just in case.

[tqsg]

@jilli-rat2 for little miss perfect

i haven’t heard this artist sing it before, but am familiar with the song! it gives me very much piper mclean vibes. “my parents spoiled me rotten” is the first line that made me think is, i’m pretty sure. her dad always gave her whatever she wanted physically, but she was left in the dust when it came to her emotional needs. piper never wanted to be perfect, per say, but that’s how she always felt her dad wanted her to be. she had a lot of troubles growing up, and probably felt completely abandoned by her dad. by the world, as well. as the song goes on, it also reminds me of annabeth. almost like this could be a pipabeth duet. annabeth always did feel the need to be perfect. “i ask myself, ‘what did i do? to get as far as i’ve gotten” reminds me of annabeth in tLT. she lived at camp most of her life, and always kind of went along with whatever she was told. specifically by chiron, her main father figure growing up. i don’t think either of these girls are cishet, and have a lot of internalization about their sexuality, in specific here. the majority of the song i think is about the main person getting together with a friend who’s also a girl, and not being able to almost cope with it. this could be true for pipabeth. piper, for a long while, didn’t even realize she wasn’t romantically in love with jason. i think annabeth could almost be using percy as an excuse as to not explore her sexuality. she has always loved percy, really for most of the time they have known each other. she probably thought it didn’t matter because her and percy would always be together. perhaps this is her realizing she can’t ignore it any longer.

[lcveblossomed]

@gareththegreat asked: “ you’ll fuck me but you won’t date me. ” for tyler 👁

Fuck. Hearing it makes Tyle freeze he had been trying to put on his work shirt but his fingers stop moving. His back is to Gareth and hides the ashamed look on his face because he knows it's true. "That's not- that's not fair and you know it." Didn't Gareth know how much he wanted that? How much he loved every kiss every tough and just being around each other. Even something so simple as sitting around talking was everything but they couldn't be more than this.

He finally turns around and there's tears stinging at his eyes as he looks at Gareth. "Come on man you've met my dad- my mom. You know how they are I mean I'm already the disappointment son for not being in some sports or getting into a great college or something. If they knew if I... I mean they can only accept so many things that are wrong with me before they finally cut ties and let me out. I want to do this but it's all I can do I can't be any more I can't do anymore. I have to be normal."

[devilsnare]

since  my  corlys  is  bisexual,  I  think  he  has  the  most  unhelpful  and  uncomfortable  conversation  with  laenor  about  being  gay. corlys  loves  and  is  devoted  to  rhaenys  but  he  had  other  lovers  before  her.  mainly  men  who  he  sailed  with  or  met  through  his  travels.

He  does  the  internalized  biphobic  parent  thing  where  they  like  ❝ it's  totally  normal  to  want  to  do  that  with  your  guy  friends.  all  the  training  and  muscles,  woo  I  can't  blame  you. ❞

sound  bites  from  this  conversation  include,

❝ before  your  mother  I  slept  with  so  many  men,  and  yes  it  was  a  good  time.  but  we  are  not  average  men,  we  must  carry  on  our  house  name. ❞ ❝ if  you  find  the  right  woman,  she  can  pleasure  you  the  same  way  a  man  does.  your  mother  has  this—— ❞  ❝ DAD  STOP ❞

[painofhumanity]

@safestkittykatintown gets a plotted starter

When they'd been introduced at one of the Lockwood parties, there had been an undeniable connection between them. Magnolia had tried ignoring the fluttering feelings whenever they were around each other, knowing how inappropriate it was for her to think of another woman that way, but Katherine didn't seem to have any such hesitation. It hadn't taken long for them to steal a kiss when they were alone, and there was no going back after that.

As two young ladies, it was perfectly acceptable for them to be unchaperoned, which meant they could spend time alone together with no one questioning it. Still, that didn't mean Magnolia wasn't nervous whenever Katherine took liberties like holding her hand or brushing a curl back behind her ear. "My parents might see," she sighed, trying to ignore the way her fair, freckled cheeks immediately went red. "If my father finds out-- I don't want the asylum doctors to give me any more treatments, Katherine." Katherine was the only one who knew the truth about Magnolia, and how her parents had sent her away for two years to an asylum to be 'cured' of her delusions.

[distinctlywhumpthing]

In League — Dead Ringer, part III

Masterlist

Summary: (Continued from part II) The foreshadowed and promised caning. August is punished by Keats and loses any progress he might have made in making a friend. Takes place two years before August meets Wyatt. Beta-read by @alittlewhump!

CW: Late-19th century, explicit language, indentured servitude, classism, degradation, manhandling, implied past noncon, burn mention, implied starvation, punishment (caning). Whumper pitting whumpees against each other and being a bully.

“It’s been a spell since I’ve seen you, Fionn,” Keats said, his back to August as he fingered Fionn’s bowtie. “I truly wondered if I’d gotten it right with this new one.” He circled Fionn, keeping an open hand pressed to his throat as he moved to stand behind him. A python holding its prey. “Isn’t he just perfect?” He leaned down, just shy of putting his chin on Fionn’s shoulder so their faces lined up as they regarded August. 

Or, rather, as Keats did. Fionn started ahead unblinking, unseeing. 

Their master must have been wise to his absence but rather than turn angry, he smirked and winked at August conspiratorially. “I think—” He pulled Fionn closer, forcing him to stand taller by the hand at his throat, and placed the end of the cane between Fionn’s feet. “He’s even better than the last.” 

Fionn’s expression crumpled, something of a whimper escaping his lips. His hands at his sides were trembling fists. 

Keats laughed, the movement shaking both of them for how close together they stood. His hand at the top of the cane between Fionn’s hips pulling him nearer still. 

August averted his eyes, all too aware of Keats watching his every move, feasting on his reactions as encouragement. 

“My, my, you have been missing me, haven’t you?” Keats continued, too loudly for it to be an honest exchange. All of this was just another game. “Poor wretched thing…”  

How long had Fionn been up here alone? How long for him to be melting into the embrace as if it were salvation and not something wicked?

Some years ago, August had stumbled upon a tangle of limbs at Elmwood. A footman who’d always given him sour glances with one of the stablehands whom he wouldn’t have been able to pick out of the lot of them. He’d turned and run, abandoning whatever errand he’d been sent on and later refusing to return to complete it when he was discovered skulking in the servant’s hall. The footman had taken it on to make August’s life miserable, a display of influence and power, to dissuade him from becoming loose-lipped. 

He didn’t realize that August was afraid to even admit to seeing the depravity, fearing any association with it. They’d all been warned about perversions at the workhouse. Had once watched a pair of boys whipped bloody on the racks before being dragged to prison for the crime. With little to look forward to after the workhouse, the boys often occupied themselves ranking the various types of labour they might find themselves indentured to. Among the worst were mining for the stories of being buried alive; factory work that would cost fingers at a time;   being shipped to America only to drown on the voyage; and digging sewers whilst knee-deep in shit. 

It was a taunting game to assign these wretched fortunes, same as it was an indulgent fantasy to allow themselves to wonder at being chosen by a tradesman, a farmer who’d never had a son, or a shopkeeper in the city in need of an assistant. But after that day, they had been armed with the ultimate derision, born of their shock and fear: Handsomer boys could be bought by twisted men and damned to suffer Hell twofold. 

 So, August was more than relieved when Keats said, “None of that today, Fionn.” Though the promise in his admonishing tone made August’s stomach flip. Fionn shivered as he was released but remained standing at sharp attention. “I’m not sure if August has informed you, Fionn, but he made a mistake earlier today and we agreed that the natural course of punishment would be the cane—”

“Sir, I thought—” The slap surprised August, a flash of pain on his cheek that brought tears to his eyes. 

“You will learn to hold your tongue and speak only when invited.”

He clenched his fists at his side. 

“Where was I? We agreed the transgression was deserving of the cane. I’m sure you’ll agree, Fionn.”

“Yessir,” came his well-trained reply, face betraying no emotion.

August swallowed. He hadn’t imagined they’d formed any sort of understanding in such a short time, let alone some sort of alliance, but it still felt like something of a betrayal for Fionn to simply accept this course of events. Perhaps it was purely self-preservation, which August ought to imitate rather than resent. 

Their master tapped the end of his cane on the floor. “On your knees now like a good boy.” 

There was less shame in simply sinking to the floor. At the very least, he’d be able to hide his reddened face from—

Keats snapped his fingers and August found himself hanging by his bowtie and collar, the oaf holding him from behind. He scrambled to put his feet back under him and straighten, reflexively gasping in a breath as he did, though he wasn’t released. 

“You are slow,” Keats observed, grabbing August’s chin in a bruising grip. He turned his head left and right, inspecting him with those beady eyes. “I hope you’ll wind up being worth all of this trouble.” He released August and stepped aside. “I didn’t tell you to move.”

Fionn was on his knees. 

“What?” August should have expected the slap this time. Tears spilled down his cheeks but he did his best to ignore them. “He didn’t do anything. Sir, the…mistake was mine, the punishment should be as well.” Keats raised his hand and August cowered as much as he could with the lackey still gripping his collar.

Keats let his hand fall. He paced back and forth like he was having a constitutional through garden instead of threatening his kept boys, cane tapping along with his heels on the hardwood. “You were agreeable downstairs. You thanked me so graciously for sparing you from the cane.” 

“Sir, please.” His voice notched higher, made thinner by the pressure on his throat. “I didn’t understand this to be what it meant. I never meant for—”

“You are astonishingly dull-witted.” 

“Please, sir. I’ll gladly take the cane myself. He shouldn’t have to pay for my error.” Fionn hadn’t even spared him a momentary glance and August couldn’t blame him. There was little chance they’d find camaraderie after this. 

“An admirable sentiment and certainly meaningful as we are learning that your shortcomings far outnumber your strengths.” August felt his cheeks burn, his blood boiling with hatred for this man who was so visibly sated by the suffering he could cause. “Perhaps next time you will employ more of your limited discernment to make a better choice.”

He seethed, holding tightly to his anger rather than dissolve into hot tears of defeat. He wanted to scream, to lunge at Keats and beat him with his own cane, but he couldn’t take a step – let alone hope to best two bigger men. 

Keats was smirking. “Yes, best not to fight and make things worse for poor, old Fionn.” At that, Fionn let his gaze fall, just for a moment. Keats turned to see what August was observing but Fionn had already fixed his expression, returning to emptiness. “I was planning to be merciful. Rather than strikes to equal the worth of the item you lost me, just one for each hour that you’ve been here, succeeding only to disappoint.” 

August couldn’t help but be relieved. It had to be less than ten, maybe fewer than six. Things really had gone downhill rapidly. Fionn had told him it was fixed, which explained how it could have all turned on him. He felt even guiltier. Fionn had tried to help him. Perhaps if August apologized enough, when this was over, explained that he truly had never intended to pass off the punishment and—

“Unfortunately, I have no way of telling the time…” Keats raised his hands in a theatrical shrug, cane swinging, hooked over one of his open palms. “We’ll simply have to take the whole day. Twenty-four hours.” August struggled against the hand restraining him, struggled to stop himself from swinging and kicking out. Keats grinned. “Perfectly reasonable, don’t you think, Fionn?”

“Yessir,” he whispered, no different than before but now he looked so small and frail, kneeling there, Keats looming over him. August squeezed his fist tighter, fingernails biting into the burn on his palm, pain radiating up his wrist.

Keats raised the cane. August wondered how Fionn managed to stop himself cowering or flinching. His obedience was frightening. Their master swung the cane up. August held his breath—

And Keats let the cane fall. “Can you count as high as twenty-four? Or shall poor Fionn have to take responsibility for that as well?”

August gaped at him. Fucking—

“Well?”

“Yes, sir,” August grit out. “I can count to twenty-four.”

Keats raised his eyebrows. “I hope for Fionn’s sake this isn’t more of your unfounded arrogance.” He turned his attention back to Fionn. “Jacket and waistcoat.”

Fionn removed the layers until he wore only his white shirt, buttoned up to the same fucking bowtie that was being used as a collar on August. He painstakingly folded each item before placing it beside him. Keats didn’t wait for any further sign once he had straightened again. 

The cane whistled through the air and came down with a crack on the center of Fionn’s back. 

“One.” August had almost forgotten to say anything. “Two—”

Keats wound up for every blow, putting his whole weight behind it. By the fourth, Fionn seemed unable to kneel upright and had sunk onto his heels, starting to bow forward. He was breathing through his teeth, tears streaming down his face, but he hadn’t made a sound. 

Halfway, Fionn was doubled over, an even easier target with his back horizontal. His spine and shoulder blades caught the worst for how much they protruded. Keats delivered the blows even faster now that he didn’t have to pay so much attention to the angle. 

When Keats landed a blow across the back of Fionn’s neck, the boy finally cried out. His scream cut off with the next and then he was breathlessly whimpering. Keats paused to wipe his brow with a handkerchief and spared August a grin that made him want to be sick. 

“—Twenty-four.”

The air rang without the sounds of the beating. Keats was breathing heavily, more so than Fionn who hadn’t made a sound for some minutes and remained, still as death, curled on the floor. 

Keats wiped his brow again, letting his handkerchief fall in a flutter to the ground when he finished with it. “You’ll still have plenty of time to think, to make sure this really sinks in.” He stepped closer to August, too close, so that he could feel his breath on his face as he spoke. “I’m sure you’re grateful for my merciful hand to guide you in bettering yourself.”

It was all he could do not to laugh out loud and spit in his face, but clearly a spoken answer was expected of him, judging by the oaf shaking him. “Thank you, sir.” There was nothing to be done about the bitterness that was evident in his tone.

His master chose to ignore it, straightening his jacket as he headed for the door. He paused in its frame, turning to look at August again, though he didn’t address him. “Fionn, be glad that you’ve no need for such corrections.” 

“Thank you, sir,” he croaked, using his hands to push himself up just enough to bow his head at Keats. 

August’s lip curled in distaste and Keats grinned, winking at him. He was glad Fionn couldn’t see the judgement he so poorly contained even knowing Keats had only elicited the response to get a rise out of him. 

He didn’t breathe any easier when he was shoved away from the lackey’s grip. Nor when he and Fionn were locked back in alone. Even as the seconds stretched into minutes since their footsteps had disappeared, he still stood there rigidly, fingers balled into fists, seeing red. He thought of all the freedoms he’d enjoyed at Elmwood. His own time to walk into the village or on the meandering paths through the wood. The small shelf of books in the servants’ hall they could borrow from. Even at the workhouse, there’d been scraps of newspapers, empty cupboards and deserted corridors to hide away in, and his best friend. August really had found himself in Hell on earth.  

It was Fionn that finally snapped him out of it. He whimpered, trying to unfold himself to replace the rest of his uniform. 

August rushed to help him.

“Please,” Fionn whispered, keeping his eyes on the floor. “Please, don’t.” 

Of course not. August was the last person he’d want to help him. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, knowing it was no concession.

He retreated to the mattress Fionn had approved earlier, lying with his back turned to give the other boy what semblance of privacy he could. He stared ahead at the greying wood of the eaves and wondered how long it would take for him to match Fionn not only in looks but in spirit as well.

@whumpy-writings @writer-reader-24 @deluxewhump @no-whump-on-main @maracujatangerine @whumptakesthecake-deactivated20 @painsandconfusion @wolfeyedwitch @briars7 @gala1981 @redwingedwhump @whumpflash @peachy-panic @hold-him-down @poeticagony @annablogsposts @fleur-alise @melancholy-in-the-morning

[lingeringscars]

Piggybacking off tiff very briefly because I do not have the spoons to do anything extensive (too hot, cried watching the little Mermaid, normal things).

But Michaela Pratt is a lesbian To Me. There was something that just clicked when I realized this. Extremely closeted. Being a lesbian does NOT fit the life she wants and so she buries it sooo very deep. Black, lesbian people do not get to the top and she needs to get to the top. (With this said and specifically for cj, seeing tai run for office and win? That'd be MONUMENTAL for her).

I don't think it's anything she'd ever...come to terms with. She gets better about knowing her worth and finding someone who accepts all of her and everything she is... but she has spent so long crafting this image to present to people and she's not going to let up on that.

[saintchaser]

who do u think is the most likely to have the most internalised homophobia out of the girls? personally i think its mary but i think thats bc i baisically threw my entire personality on her lmao. but like at the same time i do believe she was open abt her sexuality the moment she realised it but idk i think behind it all she struggled with it the most.

i personally thank it's marlene, because i think she grew up in a pretty religious family. (headcanon courtesy to @enbysiriusblack)

i feel like, despite it's not what the bible says, religion sometimes makes you feel sheltered and like a sinner for things that are not under your control, and i feel like that was what happened to her (i'm not exactly a religious person, but people close to me are, and i know i felt the same way); it took her a long time to come to terms with the fact that she was "different" and it took her even a lot more time to feel comfortable in who she was.

i also feel like her family were the kind of people that are "in the norm"; the kind of family that is deemed to be perfectly respectable people, with perfectly respectable jobs and perfectly respectable children. her family (by family i mean even extended family, i'm thinking cousins, aunts and uncles, grandparents) were traditionally feminine/masculine people that adhered to the respective gender norms and considered everything that was non-conforming in any way "weird", and that also impacted marlene's way of regarding her sexuality.

[vitalphenomena]

@jupiter3 // enjolras asked: when did you know you were gay?

Enjolras admits so freely something that, for Elijah, has always been a treasured secret, meant to be shared only with his true love, Henry. Elijah Knight's skin crawls. He worries his father might appear between himself and Enjolras, might accost him, might damn him to hell for all eternity. (And he would be justified in doing so, as he is justified in doing all things.)

"I loved someone. Does that really make me gay?"

[screamingeagle]

@pzfr​ replied to this post:

"Anybody that goes outta their way to give ya grief for dressing as ya like and bothering no one's gonna be the real weirdos."

--

      Such a response left Max completely floored while he looked to Rex, lips somewhat parting in an attempt to try to make sense of the fact that someone was, indeed, supportive of this thought process that Max had. Sweat started to run down his face almost instantaneously.

      “ Who’s payin’ yuh to be nice. ” Max simply replied-- hard to tell if he were joking or not, gently poking Rex’s chest.

[lcveblossomed]

@acourtcfmuses asked: stop running! just let me love you! (To Tyler from Eddie )

“I can’t!” Tyler says before he stops in his tracks looking at Eddie with tears in his eyes. It was all he had ever wanted to be with Eddie to be truly loved by not just someone but him. Everything they had been through together all the love they shared culminated into a history nothing could touch a bond that nothing could break. Still, he couldn’t do it he couldn’t take that last step. Maybe it was unfair to Eddie and to himself but he just couldn’t admit he was in love with his best friend. “I’m already the family disappointment because I’m not some doctor or something. I can’t be the family's disappointment again because I love you. I can’t- they won’t let me stay around if they know I’m sorry I- I just can’t.”

[niicos]

andré lamoglia.  he/him.  cis male.   ›  spotted  at  the  met  steps,  nicolas  ‘nico’  salazar,  most  likely  listening  to  live  forever  by  oasis  with  their  airpods  pro.  the  twenty  two  year  old  gained  quite  a  reputation,  known  to  be  - competitive  yet  + humble  to  anyone  who  knows  them.  you'll  easily  spot  them  when  you  hear  about  training  until  the  sun  goes  down  and  crying  if  there's  a  defeat,  long  walks  in  rio  de  janeiro,  being  the  'fun  uncle',  carrying  an  entire  team  on  your  back,  followed  by  invictus  victory  by  paco  rabanne.  latest  nepoupdates  article  talks  about  late  night  out  with  brazilian  soccer  team  ends  in  a  nightmare  injury  for  salazar  –  will  he  ever  play  again?,  but  i  guess  any  reputation  is  good  reputation.  

basic stats ;

⟶ full name: nicolas thiago mael salazar ⟶ nicknames: goes by nico, his teammates and soccer fans would call him ‘menino’ which is basically boy in portuguese ( he was the youngest guy on his team ) ⟶ three things he likes: mango with salt and lemon, dogs, luan santana ⟶ three things he dislikes: lazy people, dirty fingernails, soda ⟶ gender: cis male ⟶ height: 5 ‘ 11 ⟶ age: twenty two ⟶ birthday: october 9, 2000 ⟶ zodiac: libra sun, aquarius moon, libra ascendant ⟶ right handed or left handed: left handed ⟶ eye color: brown ⟶ hair color: light brown ⟶ piercings and tattoos: left earlobe pierced, the name ‘natalia’ tattooed on his inner right bicep in small typewriter font ( older sisters name ), small soccer ball tattoo with cleats on his wrist, brazilian flag and country in color on his inner left bicep ⟶ languages spoken: portuguese ( brazilian portuguese, also native tongue ), spanish, and english ⟶ sexuality / romantic orientation: homosexual / homoromantic  ( very recently came out ) ⟶ place of birth: porto alegre, brazil ⟶ last five songs listened to: você de mim não sai by luan santana, live forever by oasis, vou falar que não quero by vitor fernandes, eu, você, o mar e ela by luan santana, glorious by andreas johnson ⟶ five aesthetics: beat up soccer cleats, a great dane named rio, a silence so loud it echoes through the walls, chipped black nail polish, homemade pão de queijo ( brazilian cheese bread ) ⟶ character inspo: adam groff from sex education, cruz carvalho from elite, prince wilhelm from young royals

background story ;

nicolas, or nico, as he prefers to be called, was born into an upperclass family, being the youngest child of marisol and esteban salazar, and the younger brother of natalia 

his father wanted to drop on him what he could never convince himself to do, and that was soccer. to nico, his family didn’t know a lot of things, but esteban did know one thing  –  he wanted his youngest son to be everything he never could have been

since nico had a sense of judgment, he’s been playing soccer. he’s basically been kicking a ball around since before he could even run, being officially enrolled in a team when he was only two years old

since he could remember, he’s felt a huge amount of pressure from both his parents to be the best, the usual ‘be the player your father could never be’ being thrown his way more times than not, and truthfully, despite the fact that soccer was basically thrown at him and wasn’t something he chose, nico really did like soccer. slowly but surely, it turned into his passion, something he would use as an escape from his overwhelming parents. he could always say ‘i’m gonna go to practice’ and suddenly, his parents were off his ass about everything

as time went on, nico realized how much he wanted to do this for the rest of his life. he also felt the pressure from his parents, the mindset that if he didn’t make it, he was just as bad as his older sibling, or his sister. truthfully, nico rarely ever knew where he stood at with his parents. one day they were proud of him for being the best on his team, the next they were screaming at him because he didn’t play up to their standards. nico, having a very go with the flow, non-argumentative personality, went along with what they said, telling himself that if he did make it the way he so badly desired, he would be making enough money to be far away from his parents

it was waking up at four in the morning, training for three hours, school, then training after school. on weekends, it was getting up at six am and training until 7 pm, with two forty minute breaks in between. it was beyond intense, and there was times where he would even end up sick with how hard he would go at it, but as esteban would say  –  practice makes perfect

and well... he was right. nico was an exceptional player, honestly one of the best. when he was only ten, he joined the youth academy of santos fc. at age fourteen, he had a successful trial with spain’s real madrid, and santos had to increase its spending to retain him

he made his first team debut with santos when he was sixteen, averaging a goal every other match, even winning south american footballer of the year title two years in a row, and slowly but surely, nico felt his hard work and dedication paying off. he could only dream of playing for a fifa world cup, doing this for a living for as long as he could

when he’s barely nineteen, he signs a three year contract with fc barcelona after a trade with santos in exchange for fifty eight million euros, one of the most expensive soccer transfers in history. from then on out, his life drastically changed. he moved to spain, his followers on social media began blowing up, he began getting sponsorships and deals left and right ( companies like adidas and mondeléz ) all wanted him as their ambassador, and nico can’t help but ask himself  –  how did i get here?

one moment he’s playing soccer on an average team, and the next he’s one of the biggest faces in the game, and honestly? even though it’s everything he could have wanted and more, it gives him anxiety because now not only does he feel pressure from his parents, but he also feels pressure from everyone else, practically carrying an entire team on his back at such a young age

he’s a huge example of ‘i’m not sure how this happened’ because really? even though he worked his ass off and it was something he really, really wanted, in the back of his mind, he didn’t think he would be one of the chosen few to get this far. quickly, nico began to realize how much attention he received just because he was a well known, pretty face, an official professional athlete. he went from people not giving him a second glance, to everyone wanting to be his best friend, and it’s around this time that he realizes just how much female attention his career gave him

aside from his profession, nico is a really sweet guy with good intentions, and this, along with his hefty salary, was enough to make any girl fall for him, often times teased by his teammates on how much attention he received from girls. any guy in his shoes would be thrilled, but truthfully, nico felt like something wasn’t right, but he just didn’t know what it was

to make it clear, he’s hooked up with a ton of girls, receiving a ‘fuck boy’ reputation from his teammates, pats on the back for having so much ‘game’ on and off the field, but deep down inside, hooking up with all of these pretty females left him feeling empty, and he didn’t know why. he wasn’t sure why he had to drink so much to get into it, he wasn’t sure if it was normal to not feel anything for any of the girls he was hooking up with, and he didn’t know why, in the middle of it all, he desperately wished it would be over

it isn’t until he meets a gay fan and his boyfriend, that something inside him clicks, and he thinks oh... that’s why, and truthfully, he isn’t sure how to deal with this newfound revelation. this realization comes to him a couple of days after his twenty first birthday, and even though deep inside his heart, he knows he’s gay, he does everything in his power to try to ‘ungay himself’ ( impossible nico, but okay )

his hook ups with fans become more frequent, but each time, he further realizes that as much as he wishes he could be attracted to these females, he just isn’t, and it makes his heart hurt, especially because he knows how some of the people in this industry can be. he knows that this wouldn’t settle well with a bunch of his teammates, so as much as he wants to tell everyone, he just bottles up his feelings, and continues playing

and that’s when the famous, fifa world cup 2022 comes right around the corner, his first world cup ever, so he couldn’t be more thrilled, but we all know how that ends!

the day brazil gets eliminated, him and his teammates are so upset with the outcome of the game, they rent a mansion and get trashed on their final night in qatar. nico isn’t expecting much of it, but a night of fun soon turns into nico’s worst possible nightmare ever

! injury tw, proceed with caution or skip over this if you’re triggered ! he gets so, so drunk, he fully doesn’t remember how it happened, but according to his teammates, he was attempting to walk down a flight of stairs when he trips, loses his balance, and falls off the second story of the mansion, unfortunately, fracturing his left leg ( tibia to be more specific, his left leg is also his dominant leg ), in the process

to add drama to the mix... this is not at all what happened. he did fall off the second story and he did fracture his leg, but it wasn’t an accident. one of his teammates, second best on the team, who has always been jealous of his success and being the second best, pushed him, resulting in his fall and injury, and all of his teammates were so drunk, only one of them remembers, but is caught between loyalty towards his friend, or telling the truth out of justice. if it isn’t obvious, his teammate who vividly remembers what happened, hasn’t said anything

nico wakes up the next day in the hospital, with no recollection of what happened, left leg in a cast after he had surgery, and tragically? he feels his entire world crumble beneath him. how was he so clumsy, that he fell so badly and hurt himself this way? will he ever play again? all of these thoughts, and the possibility that he may never go back to doing what he loves, really fuck with his head

to make matters even worse, the news goes viral in no time, and he doesn’t get the privacy he so desperately needs. endless dms, text messages, facetime requests, unwanted visitors at the hospital, all of people wanting to know what happened, or to give him ‘get well soon’ messages, which frankly? is the last thing nico wanted at that moment

he goes through a period of denial, where he tries convincing himself that this didn’t happen to him, that he’s dreaming and that he’ll wake up and it’ll all be over soon, but unfortunately, that’s not the case, and as much as he wants to resume playing, he’s told to do everything in his power to get better, to see if he can play again next year... next year

instead of going back to spain, he goes to new york, where his siblings live at, to attend therapy and rehab in the states in an attempt to get better sooner. for nico, this is only temporary, as his biggest wish at the moment is to fully recover and go back to spain, to play for fcb. the move was easy for nico, he stayed with his sister for a day or two until he managed to buy himself an over the top, extravagant pent house in the upper east side. he’s trying to make the best of his situation, but admittedly, what happened to him makes him deeply depressed, as he feels like his dream has been pulled from underneath him

headcanons ;

nico is a genuinely nice guy, a huge sweetheart, but he’s an excellent liar. he’s been lying his whole life, from pretending his straight for more than half of his life, to acting like he’s perfectly fine with what happened to him. he’s a yes man, but he can be a liar. to him, the less people know, the better

he has the lightest accent when speaking english, that you can tell it’s not his native tongue right away. it’s gotten very subtle and his english has gotten a lot better, but it’s there

he loves dogs. he has a great dane he named rio ( after rio de janeiro ) who is two years old and he loves him with his whole heart. rio is a therapy dog, and has been helping him tremendously throughout this hard time he’s going through

he attends physical therapy every single day, this has helped him a lot too, but he still can’t wait to go back to doing what he loves most, ever the impatient little shit

he loves the beach, makes it his business to go back to brazil or even california at least once every two months. aside from soccer, he loves to surf too

he loves music in portuguese. his first ever genuine gay crush was luan santana, a brazilian musician. nico basically loves him. has met him three times and they mutually follow each other on twitter and instagram

he was really repressed with his sexuality growing up. honestly, he has always ‘somewhat’ known he’s gay, probably since before he was even a preteen, but with the way he grew up, he just denied it and told himself it was just a phase. it took him more than half of his life to come to terms with being gay, but he has officially come out this year after his injury through an instagram post, and even though he has received backlash, he no longer feels like he has to hide

the first person he has ever come out to, before publicly coming out, was his sister. they had a four hour call in july of this year and he spilled the tea to her, thinking that maybe, she might be put off by the news, but she was more than supportive. it was a very emotional phone call. nico even cried

he can be a very superficial person, in the sense that you can speak to him for a solid three hours, laughing, over a drink, thinking you’re getting to know him, but when the get together is over, it’ll kind of hit you like ‘wow, i don’t know anything about this guy’. he’s great at small talk, can talk your ear off, but he never lets it get too deep

his career claim is neymar. he has 181+ million followers on instagram, basically? neymar’s career, sponsorships, etc

very shocking news, but he’s somewhat of a virgin. he’s had sex with a ton of girls, but he has never had sex with a guy. he’s never even kissed one before, and he isn’t really sure what to do in this sense

he’s very physically capable, in the sense that you can tell right away that he works out ( what kind of soccer player isn’t let’s be real ). even with his injury, he lifts weights and does his best to stay somewhat active. he hates being lazy, always has to be doing something physical even if his leg currently prohibits him from doing much

he’s really big on protein, kind of a health freak. he’s not a vegan or vegetarian because he claims he could ‘never’ but he’s huge on eating right, your greens, your protein, and your grains. his cheat day is on saturday, and what does he eat for his cheat day? a chocolate chip granola bar... he’s literally a fucking sociopath out of all the treats to eat nico?

with his siblings, he will speak in portuguese with them, especially when he doesn’t want to be understood by other people. his thought process, in fact, is in portuguese, very proudly brazilian

he spoils his niece, rosie, so so much. he will go out and buy a custom made chanel kids purse that’s like 50k for her for literally no reason. because he doesn’t have kids, and he’s not sure if he ever will, he spoils this little girl so damn much. all she has to do is point and suddenly he’s buying it for her, big fun uncle energy, basically considers rosie the ‘daughter he will never have’

despite having a lot of money ( legit google soccer players salaries to get an idea ), nico is a very humble guy. if he likes something, he doesn’t care if it’s a luxury brand or not, but he will get it. he isn’t one to care if he’s dressed from head to toe in designer things, and he doesn’t let the fame get to his head. he’s always willing to take a picture with someone or sign his autograph for them, and he has a very zen like aura to him

however, he is very competitive. call it the athlete in him, but he is not a fan of losing. you will watch him go from twenty two to seven years old real quick, even if it’s something as simple as a card game

wanted connections ;

i will help you through thick and thin: someone, any gender, who has maybe helped him throughout his injury. like ‘let me get this for you’ ‘no sit down, i’ll get it’, nico is most likely annoyed with them because he hates feeling incapable, but this muse just wants to help him

i’m your biggest fan: someone who loves soccer, who loves his career? could be any gender, they could be friends or they could not be friends, but this muse thinks his career is really cool and may or may not be out there starting prayer circles for him to get better and go back out on the field as soon as possible

our dogs are best friends: a muse who has a dog as well, could be any breed of dog, who surprisingly has become best friends with his great dane, rio. they see each other at the park and when they’re not getting bombarded with paparazzi’s, their dogs are out there being the best of friends

is it weird we’ve hooked up before?: open to multiple females, but girls he’s hooked up with in the past that he really has no feelings for. they could be friends now, they could hate him or feel used by him, anything can be plotted with this!

you’re the demon on my shoulder: a bad influence! nico is very health conscious, barely even drinks, doesn’t smoke or do any types of narcotics, so maybe this muse could peer pressure him unintentionally and be a genuine bad influence, whether it’s alcohol and narcotics wise or in any other aspect

maybe we’re confidants, or maybe we’re just bored: someone who he has gotten strangely close with, that they share information back and forth. very unlike nico because he’s a very private person, but they’ve created an unusual bond, basically trust buddies

why’d you only call me when you’re high?: someone nico is cool with, that once called him at three am in the morning, high off their ass, and nico went to go pick them up because they were too messed up to drive. at this point, it’s become somewhat of a habit for this muse to call him at ungodly hours in the morning, fucked up and needing a friend. nico comes to pick them up every damn time, somewhat overprotective of them now, a dad friend if you must

i hate that bitches skirt, too: someone he just talks shit with. they go out and talk shit about people, judge people, this muse brings out nico’s inner bitch. they will see a poor girl walking by and rate her outfit on a scale of donate to goodwill, to ten

you were my first: open to males, but... maybe the first guy he does anything with? could be very wholesome and i feel like this would have to go off of chemistry, but it would be somewhat special to nico so the vibes would have to be just right

or we could brain storm! gonna put his birthchart below and end this here because this is too long

birthchart ;

[fateviled]

          love was a complicated thing.  if anything,  gable had once been certain that love was the thing that had definitively broken him.  (it wasn’t the grief that had destroyed him when his mother was gone but the love he’d had for her.)  after that,  love had often tasted of bloody knuckles against his cheek and half-pleading,  half-taunting words for a man who no longer held the right to be called his father.  and certainly,  for those empty years of his life,  gable had thought that surely love wasn’t real after all.  or if it was,  then his kind of love was not a good thing,  and which of those was worse?

               now he scoffed at love,   turned his nose to everything that may have once made him smile.  bou and loren humored him,  but even they had their limits when it came to his cynicism,  chosing isntead to step away when similar talks surfaced.  no,  gable could not say he was much fond of loving acts,  and to have gavin of all people speak those words was a bit like the ice pressed to his wounds all those years ago.  frigid and sharp and familiar.  not a wake up call,  but an awareness.  and maybe he hated that a bit too much.

               he leans against the open door of train car he’s sitting in,  the scent of rusted metal heavy in the humid air.     ❝ and what would i do with love in a world like this? ❞     a shake of his head,  something like disgust peeking through.  he remembers bou telling him how easy he made it to hate him,  wearing looks upon his face that would piss anyone off.  he knows he’s wearing one now.     ❝ cherish it?  hope that it’ll be enough to save anyone?  this world is a ticking time bomb,  gav;  you’ve seen how it is out there more than most of us. ❞

               he was a shitty leader,  he knew that.  why anyone stuck around,  choose to follow him,  was in all parts thanks to the two women who dragged his sorry ass with them into something that resembled safety.  this world wanted to destroy the weak,  and it hated people like them—  outcasts,  nobodys, misfits.  gable was the one those misfits looked up to now,  the one who placed face and words first against anyone who wanted to hurt them.  somewhere along the line,  gavin had become someone for gable to protect as well,  joining their ranks besides a little girl that gable would make sure nobody would ever touch again.  

               and somewhere else along the line,  gable had found himself fixated on the other.  he would not admit how many minutes of the day he spent gazing at the other across the encampment,  their eyes shining and body moving with a fluidity and easy gable had never felt.  not the hard lines of someone who was raised to fight.  heart out in the open rather than tucked away under a thick layer of stone.   but it wasn’t love that gable felt;  he would never let himself feel affection for someone the way he’d once yearned to.  they couldn’t afford that.

@faeties said :    ❛   take a gamble that love exists, and do a loving act.  ❜

[warriours]

@grazziella​ come out to play

He’s telling himself it was a bad idea coming to this part of town instead of staying in the Bronx where he at least had the safety of the gang to back him. But it was also closer to his home in Cobble Hill. It was reckless, bad reckless even for him. Just for a one night stand too. The kiss good-bye though had been unexpected. No man he had ever been with had ever dared to do that. 

It made him jumpy, scared someone he knew or someone his folks knew might have seen. But anyone could be dangerous if they’d seen. Hell he practically went out of his skin when he bumped into a pretty little blonde. “You didn’t see anything did you?” He blurted out.