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loganlermanstanaccount · 1 year

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Hello! Could you please write a stubborn, jealous hc for Miguel o'hara? Thank you!!

I had the brainworms, so I hope this is what you were looking for! Thanks for the ask <3

Jealous!Miguel O'Hara Headcanons

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: jealous!Miguel O'Hara x reader

summary: stubborn HCs for jealous!Miguel O'Hara.

a/n: this was meant to be a drabble and i basically wrote a full fic. i have zero self control lmfao

warnings: smut (fingering, f receiving oral, slight brat taming, etc) right at the very end, 18+ from then onwards, the rest is more pg-13

wc: 3.5k ish

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

Long story short: he's a stubborn little shit.

Pig-headed as fuck and it shows up in little things.

Let's say you first met as coworkers, and you were a lab technician at Alchemax.

Think: unstoppable force meets immovable object. He likes his labs just so, with very specific equipment in a very specific configuration.

It drives you crazy, regularly having tiffs outside the labs; much to the chagrin of your coworkers.

"Jesus." Your coworker mutters, wincing at the seemingly heated argument by the water cooler.

"Ignore it, Maeve." Another coworker rolls their eyes, nudging Mave with a snort. "They're at it again . S'pose they'll tire each other out by the end of the day."

Not that they were wrong. But this time, it wasn't your fault: dealing with O'Hara's bullshit had really taken it's toll. He was insufferable, prone to nitpicking and just plain mean. You could hardly be blamed if you gave him some of your own choice words.

"My notes were basically paint-by-fucking-numbers! How could you mess up a simple distillation? When I specify precision glassware , you don't think that's fucking important?"

"Your notes ," You draw air quotes pointedly at him. "-are illegible, you fucking cretin! Maybe if you didn't write like a goddamn pre-schooler-"

"- preschooler? Oh , fuck you!"

"Get your nose out of that highschool Chem textbook, O'Hara, this is a fucking job."

"Yeah? Stop using it to wipe your ass and you might learn a thing or two."

"Oh , so that's what we're doing?" You laugh in his face, so angry your hand curls into tight fists. You get close, staring him down as you look upwards through your lashes. His own face is contorted into a grimace; bushy eyebrows furrowed into deep shadows around his eyes. You can feel his steady breathing before he speaks, low and rumbling.

"I could do this all day, princesa. "

You scoff, ignoring the way his words weaken your knees. The one time you asked for a break during a long lab and he won't stop calling you a spoilt princess. His laughter then stings in your ears now, the ghost of a smirk on his face as you storm off. Miguel O'Hara: smug bastard. He would be the death of you, you're sure.

~~~

You spend many a late night with him, unwittingly, and find out he's more than a stubborn little shit.

You find out he's funny, and shares the same anti-Alchemax tendencies you do: both preyed upon by the company immediately after graduation, young and naive.

He's kind, even though he'd never admit it, often finishing up the lab notes and doing more than his fair share of work so you can go home at a reasonable time.

You both still butt heads, but it turns into a tentative friendship - coffees in the morning hidden as blaise convenience, covering for each other at work, and defending the other when office gossip goes too far.

That's why when he comes back to work after a week-long stint away - something about a blow up with the boss, an issue described as 'miscommunication, promptly smoothed over' by anyone official - you notice… something's different about him.

You first noticed something was off when he walked in without a snide remark. You left a mug overnight at the counter, something that would usually draw a sarcastic comment at the least , but he gives you… nothing. Blank, glassy eyes as he opens up his workstation - clicking away at the keys without so much as a glance.

"O'Hara?" You call, but he doesn't even look up. You walk to his workstation and knock at the desk. He jumps. God, he looks worse for the wear. Heavy bags under his eyes and a bruise blossoming under his collar.

"You okay?"

He rubs his temples, eyes flitting up at you. "Yeah, just…. just a long week, s'all."

You put a hand on his shoulder, and you swear he leans into your touch. "We can reschedule, tonight. The calculations can wait, Miguel."

He gives you a weak smile, but a smile nevertheless. "S'okay. Need to make sure you don't fuck it up."

"Don't push your luck, O'Hara."

~~~

As you get closer, you notice just how stubborn he is to admit the growing tension between you two.

Late nights at the lab turn into takeout at your place, morning coffee turns into a pleasant 20 minutes on the rooftop away from the hustle and bustle - just you and Miguel, talking and joking with a cup of shitty coffee in hand.

Wholly, he seems more assertive at work, not as quick to roll over.

It's hot, you have to admit; watching him fight with someone else other than you.

You're at work drinks with the other technicians and engineers, nursing a watery beer when another colleague makes small talk with you at the bar.

You’ve never been that close to him, and the conversation is amicable enough, but you’re almost bowled over when you see Miguel, in the corner, staring straight at you with a stormy look.

You suppose it's a little pathetic, getting all dressed up for a casual drink. Lips shiny with gloss and gently powdered with makeup, you feel a little out of place. For all your talk at work, actually being here was another thing. Suddenly, your blouse is too tight and your skirt too short. With a manicured finger, you trace the lip of your glass filled with watery beer. You sigh. You don't want to admit it, but you were only here because of Miguel. He said he would come, and now you're sitting on a barstool counting the chips in your glass.

It was probably for the best. You sink into the absentminded chatter of your colleagues around you, until there's a tap at your shoulder.

"Is someone-" He clears his throat; a tall man dressed in a sharp suit nodding gracefully towards the empty chair. "-is this seat taken?"

You shake your head, grateful for the company. He's handsome, sharp features curving into a wry grin as he calls for a drink.

"...and something other than shitty beer for the pretty girl, too." It makes you laugh, light and lilting in the bustle of the bar.

He stretches out his hand, and you take it.

"Eddie Crouch. I work in marketing."

Eddie…. as in… head of the most profitable division of Alchemax? Your eyes widen involuntarily and you try to clamp down your immediate shock, somewhat unsuccessfully. He narrows his eyes as you tumble over your words.

"Y-Yeah, same! I mean, not same , I just work in the l-labs and I thought it was just for us guys, working behind the curtain, y'know? Not that we're not thrilled to have you here, because we a-are." You spill out, wincing. "....Is this about the performance reviews? Because I know output was down this quarter but our projections are-"

"I'm not here to talk about work." He chuckles. You squint, not convinced. As if to alleviate your concerns, he loosens his tie and undoes his top buttons with a flourish.

"Can I tell you a secret?" He leans in, and the air becomes thick with expensive perfume. He twirls the signet ring on his finger, a ring probably worth more than your monthly paycheck.

"Your boss invited me," Discreetly, he stretches a finger at your boss; a man ruddy cheeked and red-faced with alcohol. "Guess he thought it would boost morale. He's a fucking idiot if he thinks having me, the one guy that could fire your entire department without recourse, exchange empty platitudes would boost morale. But, I digress. So here I am, dragging my feet to this bar, thinking I'm gonna get in, read the lines and get out. But then, " He pauses with dramatic effect. "I see the most beautiful person I've ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on, just sitting by the bar. Like everyone isn't already falling over themselves to talk to you."

The irony is palpable. It's sickly sweet, and a line that wouldn't usually work on you. But usually, you weren't pining over a man so prickly and stubborn, you shouldn't have feelings for. Here you were, bright cocktail in front of you and a moderately attractive man by your side. He wasn't quite Miguel, but in the words of one of the greatest thinkers of the past age: country girls make do.

And so you make lazy conversation with the man. So lost in a tipsy haze, you barely notice Miguel walk in; dark jacket on his shoulders and deliciously loose slacks. You're drawn to him, his eyes seemingly searching the room, and you sigh into your drink. Technically, he looks like shit: eyes dark-rimmed and sunken, a cut at his brow. You think he is gorgeous, eyes tracing the slope of his nose and plush lips. Like he can sense it, he glances over in your direction and you look away hastily. He's watching , you can feel its burn as you turn, pretending to listen to the man besides you. A little cruelly, you lean into him, not breaking eye contact and curling a hand around his arm to laugh at a stupid joke. Eddie laughs with you, oblivious, as you glance behind him.

Miguel stands with a drink thrust into his hands, looking straight through him, eyes low and gazing at you.

~~~

He insists on walking you home, a steady hand on the small of your back as you stumble through the streets of Nueva York.

You make light conversation, tipsy and giggly from the alcohol. Miguel seems a little more put together, but his chest still creaks with rumbling laughter.

He definitely walks on the side of the pavement nearest the street, because he thinks it keeps you safer.

He walks you up the stairs and by the door of your apartment, like a gentleman. You watch him get nervous suddenly, and he hesitates, stubbornly digging in his heels and pausing you from opening the door and coming in.

You don't want it to end, opting to take the walk up the stairs as opposed to the lift. It's one of your more questionable decisions as you stumble up the stairs, almost tripping over your own feet. Miguel is quick to catch you even though he was just as drunk. Arm around your waist, he leaves searing touches to your hip. You giggle despite yourself, and he can't help but smile at your clumsiness.

"If you break your legs I won't carry you, princesa ." A lie and you both know it. He would carry you to the ends of the earth like a blushing bride, if you asked him.

You both stagger to up the stairs and through the corridor until you reach your front door. You rummage around your bag for your keycard, it's contents click-clacking in the quiet of the hallway. Miguel watches, quieter than he was in the journey. If you looked up now, you would see something else behind his eyes - a storm of apprehension and tension.

You find your keycard, and look up to find Miguel placing a careful palm on the door. He's surprisingly still, eyes on your lips as he steps closer. You look everywhere but to meet his eyes, tracing the curve of his collarbone, the slope of his exposed forearm, and the tempting juncture of his strong jaw. You watch it tense, as he brings a gentle hand to your chin. His thumb swipes over the fat of your lip.

"Got somethin' right… there." He mumbles, before tucking his hand away. You can barely breathe. Without thinking you take his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together like a gentle hug. You bring his hand to your waist, and he squeezes, ever so gently. Your hand drops and he moves his slowly, knuckles dragging along the smooth silk of your blouse, and then sending shivers when he reaches your bare neck.

He has to bite down the plethora of things running through his head - his drunken brain threatening to spill all his thoughts. You are so beautiful and soft it makes him short-circuit, desperate to pull you close. Instead, you do: hand inching up his chest and laying to rest on his shoulders.

He kisses you, finally ; a little messy and impossibly soft. Like his lips on yours would shatter you both. You deepen the kiss and wrap his arm tighter around you, angling your chin to drink up even more of you. You both come up for air, panting in the heat of one another. Miguel's eyes are full of lust and blown out.

"Do…do you want to come in?" You whisper.

Something catches in his throat and his expression changes, like he just woke up from a dream. Do you just want to sleep with him? He's not built for one night stands, can't do just sex, especially if it's you. No matter how much he wants to, he can't, he won't, "....I shouldn't."

The disappointment on your face is palpable. You want to ask why - after he kissed you like that - why doesn't he want you? Instead you nod dejectedly. He gives you a chaste kiss on the forehead, lingering, and a shaky smile.

You open your door with a buzz, and slam it in his face.

~~~

It takes Miguel some time to properly put a name to what you two have: not knowing if the kiss was a drunken mistake, animal attraction or something more.

He's not a grand gestures kind of person, he believes in action rather than words.

Which is why it takes so long for him to admit just how in love with you he is.

He steals glances at you all the time at the office, and tries to anticipate all your needs.

When you stretch and yawn in the morning, he happens to pass by your favourite coffee place and happens to buy one too many cups of your go-to order.

So imagine his shock when he arrives from his lunch break, churros and coffee in hand, and there's one of the top brass from the night at the bar perched on your desk - 2 polystyrene cupfuls of something half drunk on the desk.

He's never been insecure, but he can't help but feel possessive, something tense and tight growing at the base of his stomach.

"What was it you wanted to talk about?" You step into the equipment cupboard, Miguel close behind you. You rub your temples, anticipating an argument. "O'Hara, if this is about my calibration tests this morning, I swear to God -"

"No, no , nothing like that." He's quick to say. "They were… okay." He strains.

You raise an eyebrow. Okay? Since when did Miguel pass up an opportunity for a mindless fight? Your mind races with his actions of the past few days. He has been different since the night at the bar, a little nicer, sure, but nothing this out of the ordinary.

"That guy you were talking to. I saw him at the bar, and now here. Who is he?"

Your eyebrows shoot up. "You do not have the right to ask me th-"

"Are you fucking him?" A pause, and you study his expression, deducing that he is completely fucking serious .

"Are you insane? You definitely don't have the right to ask me that." You make for the door, and he steps in front of it, blocking it with his body.

"I need to know. Tell me and then I'll leave you alone, I promise." His voice is low and thick with something.

You step closer and he wraps his hands around your waist absentmindedly. The pressure feels good, and makes your brain fog up.

He repeats himself, softer. "Are you fucking him?"

You look at him for a moment, before shaking your head. His facial expression is steady, just as unreadable.

"Do you want to?"

You hesitate, wanting to be cruel and say yes, just to see his reaction. Perceptive, he sees your hesitance and says something that almost knocks you over.

"I could fuck you better than he ever could," He kneads your thigh now, lips close to the shell of your ear in the tight space of the cupboard. " Princesa , look at me."

You look at him, almost whimpering and putty in his hands. He's like a siren and you are lost in the pull of his gaze. It may be the proximity, but you swear you see a tinge of red in his eyes, like deep pools of lust.

"Will you let me fuck you?" He pulls you closer so the meat of his thigh presses against your clothed cunt. Your stretchy pencil skirt rides up suggestively, and you rock your clit against him, searching for sweet pressure. You nod.

Miguel titters softly, a hand on your chin pulling your lips to his. You moan into his kiss, body aching. It's hot and heavy like the kiss outside your door, but he swirls his tongue around yours and expertly nips at your lower lip. He guides your hips to rock against his thigh, tensing to make sure it's corded muscle hits the right places. He wants to break you apart, leave you so cock-drunk, you wouldn't think of even glancing at another man.

You separate and he dips a hand under your skirt. He pulls it up and places a big palm at your pussy, with a well timed slap. You bite into his neck with the pressure. You definitely don't expect it when he rips open your stockings like they were paper.

"Fuck, Miguel."

"It's okay, baby, I'll get you new ones." Your eyes roll back as he slips aside the gusset to run a finger through your lower lips. Shamelessly, he slips a finger in, then two, basking in the wet squelch of your heat. You claw at his forearm, as he curls them into that sweet spot.

You press your forehead to his shoulder, chasing his fingers with your hips. His sharp eyes watch every movement, every stutter and start that his fingers pull from you. He's practical, a man of action, and he is desperate to show you how much he cares.

"I've thought about you… about this." He hisses as you cover your mouth to dampen your moans.

"Wanted you for so long, princesa. Want to know how you taste, what this beautiful pussy feels like. What you look like when you cum."

His wrist aches with the back and forth motion but his pace barely faulters.

" M-Miguel …"

He applies pressure to your clit, and watches in awe as you spasm, nails digging into his forearm.

" Oh, there it is. Right there, hmm? Does that feel good?"

You nod frantically with a stifled sob.

"Not quite, baby. Need to hear you say it. Or I won't let you cum."

"...fuuck you."

" Oh, you'd like that. Still not what I want to hear. Tell me how much you like it when I fuck you with my fingers."

"F-Feels good." You stutter. He stops, wrenching his hand out of your pussy to leave you clenching around nothing.You almost scream.

"You're being a brat, not my princesa , hmm? Only good girls get to cum."

" Miguel , please. I'll do anything." He guides you along his thigh, still lodged between your legs, and licks up your wetness on his other hand. "You m-make me feel so good. So good. And I want you so much it hurts, sometimes. I just want to cum, don't even need your cock. Fuck me with something , please."

"Miguel? Not asshole? Or fucking idiot, this time?"

"Please, Miguel ." Your pleas go straight to his cock. He throbs with need, cock rock hard under his slacks.

He relents, not able to bear your dopey puppy-dog eyes for much longer. He slips three fingers in, without bothering to prep you. He hisses at the tightness of your heat, pounding into you and knuckle deep with his fingers. Shamelessly, you fuck yourself back on them, hips rolling over his thigh. He can't tear himself away from the sight, palming himself through tented trousers.

You kiss and nip at his neck, as he whispers obscenities at you under his breath.

"Can you cum for me, princesa? Cum f'me, and I'll take care of you, I promise."

You clamp down on his fingers and moan into a kiss as you ride out your orgasm. It's intense: leg-shaking and leaves you shuddering in the aftermath. You were rusty, sure, hadn't had sex with someone in a while. But Miguel made you cum so hard you saw stars, with only his fingers. Your chest heaves with the thought.

You thought he would leave you, torn stockings and all, in the little cupboard. But he stays, to sink down to his knees and lap at your folds. You rest a hand on a shelf for purchase, head back in bliss. You cunt is still sensitive, throbbing at the orgasm he's just given you, as you licks you clean. He's taking care of you. You card your hands into his hair, tugging gently as he moans into your pussy.

He gives your clit a gentle kiss, and swipes up a trailing tear that rolls down your inner thigh. You watch as he pops his fingers into your mouth, cleaning off the cum. Your cum.

Miguel gives you a lazy grin in the bare bulb of the equipment closet. He seems completely unfazed by the fact his fingers were in you not a moment ago.

"Are you free after work?" He asks, and it takes a moment for you to process.

"Uhhh… s-sure. Probably?"

"Let me take you for dinner, somewhere nice."

All you can do is nod, dumbly, ripped stockings still around your ankles.

"And then I can fuck you properly, princesa."

#across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #smut #spiderman 2099 x reader #light angst #kat_writes😼#miguel o hara x reader #headcanon #miguel o'hara headcanons #jealousy

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yuwuta · 4 months

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CAN YOU FEEL MY HEART BURNING, CAN YOU FEEL ALL MY GOOD LOVING — ITADORI

cw: mentioned sex, friends to lovers, yuuji greatest boy

The first time that Yuuji asks you out, you reject him. It’s not a matter of not liking him or liking him (even though you do like him, a lot)—it’s a matter of maintaining your friendship, about weighing risk versus reward, and about pushing your personal feelings aside for what’s best for everybody.

Yuuji doesn’t listen. To him, your rejection was just confirmation about what he already knew about you—that you had a tendency to run away or avoid things you didn’t want to confront, but only when you were really, truly scared.

So, in true Yuuji fashion, he takes it to the next level. Despite being rejected, he holds your hand, and pulls you close, gives you kisses on your cheek, and your neck sometimes, and once you even let him leave a hickey, even though you spew the same mantra of—“You shouldn’t—Yuuji we shouldn’t be doing this”—you let him do it every single time.

Because Yuuji knows that you like him back, and he knows that even though you’re scared to say it, deep down you know that he’s always been yours. Because Yuuji is your best friend, and he knows better than anyone how to punch through the walls you so carefully build up. Honestly, you should have learned by now to stop trying to keep him out—he makes his way in every time.

It’s how you end up in bed with him only three mere weeks after rejecting his confession. And even though you’ve both been as close as two people can be, Yuuji knows he’s missing one thing from you; one final seal to show you that he’s it, that there’s nothing to be afraid of, and to get you to stop running once and for all.

Which is exactly why when you ask him if he wants to see thew new Spiderman movie after breakfast, he smiles and puts his plan into action.

“Yeah, of course,” Yuuji grins, “If you say that it’s a date.”

Your smile falls halfway, but Yuuji’s only widens as he slips his hands into his pockets. He waits, expectantly, even through your stunned silence, and you finally sigh when he begins to rock on his heels.

“Yuuji, you know that–”

“What I know is that you’ve got to get out of that head of yours sooner than later,” he says, leaning forward to happily invade your space to tap at your forehead, “And that you love me.”

“Yeah, I kind of thought the confession that I only turned you down because I didn’t want to lose you, and the having sex with you last night kinda let you show that.”

“Yes, yes, there was all of that,” Yuuji moves his hands to cup the sides of your head, looks into your widening eyes and grins, “But I’m giving you a way to make it official in that complicated little head of yours. So, go on, ask me out. I promise I won’t say no.”

Your eyebrows pinch together. Yuuji immediately moves his thumbs to stroke at the tail ends of them as you pout, “What do you mean ‘make it official?’ I know—I mean I hope that all our feelings are official.”

“Make it official to you,” Yuuji clarifies, using his right thumb to tap at your temple, “In that beautiful—” he bends forwards to press a kiss to your forehead, “—smart —” another kiss, “—very complicated —” and another, “—head of yours that I love so much. So, like I was saying: ask me out, so that you get your closure even though you don’t think you need it, and you start seeing and learning that I don’t want to do anything with you without romantic intentions.”

Yuuji presses one last kiss before pulling away to show you his glowing smile. Your expression softens through his speech—confusion sinking into surprise and then pure adoration. You’re slightly amazed that Yuuji has deciphered this for you before you could even fathom a justification behind your emotions, but then again, you think, you shouldn’t be; Yuuji has proved, throughout the course of your friendship and his courtship, that you have his undivided attention—that you are the object of his desires, and as such, it’s only natural that he knows the parts of you that you don’t think about.

So, you concede, push your shock and pride aside, and close that embarrassing gaping mouth of yours because this is Yuuji and for all the shit you’ve put him through, the least you could do is ask him out.

“Okay. Will you go to the movies with me?”

Except when screws up his face and purses his lip in dissatisfaction, you wonder if you should put him through the wringer yourself.

Yuuji’s grip on your head tightens ever so slightly, not enough to be uncomfortable, just enough for him to manually shake your head to mirror his own, “You have to make it clearer that you’re asking me out. We go to the movies all the time, I love movies—”

“Yeah, exactly,” you frown, reaching your right hand to grab at Yuuji’s wrist to still your shaking head, “I’m asking you to do something I know you love.”

“Ah, but you see how that’s confusing to me,” Yuuji quips, “I am but your oblivious friend—you have to let me know that you want me to be there with you because you like me, otherwise I might not know for the next twenty-something years, and history will repeat itself and—ow!”

“I get it, you asshole,” you bite. Yuuji gives you a shallow shrug, and a crooked smile, that you, begrudgingly, find endearing. So much so that you groan and let your head fall forward until your forehead is pressed against Yuuji’s chest. You can hear his laughter; feel the way his palms immediately latch to your back to rub shallow circles. “This is stupid. I can’t believe I like you and you’re making me do all this for some three-hour movie.”

“Oh, wrong L-word, try again.”

“Even worse. You know I love you and you insist on making me do this.”

“You must think I’m worth it, or you would have left me hanging a long time ago,” Yuuji gives you another kiss to the crown of your head, before he holds you by the shoulders to urge you to stand up straight, “Now come on, ask me out, sweep me off my feet, m’lady.”

You blink your eyes open slowly, adjusting for the sparkling image of Yuuji standing before you, waiting far too patiently. That awe washes over you again—a wave for the overbearing love you feel for him, another for the incredible soul the boy in front of you is—for how lucky you truly are to have him.

And you are lucky to have Yuuji. To be loved by Yuuji. So, you reach for his hands and wrap yours around them before you look up to face him and ask, “Itadori Yuuji, will you go out with me?”

“Yes, and I’ll do you one better,” he smiles, shakes your hands off so that he can put them on your waist to pull you to his chest, “I’ll be your boyfriend, too.”

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #yuuji x reader #yuuji smut #yuuta x reader #yuuji fluff #yuuji itadori x reader #itadori x reader #this needs a header or something but i dont have one #oopsies #jujustu kaisen #gojo x reader #jjk smau #jjk fake texts

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corrodedbisexual · 2 days

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Eddie is constantly bouncing between jobs and rage quitting every 6 months on average. Steve, however, somehow gets lucky with a job in computer sales. With the industry in a booming rise, he makes a pretty decent income to support them both whenever Eddie's out of a job. Best part is, even though his charming voice and smile certainly help make sales, he doesn't feel like he's one of those scammers pushing all kinds of crap people don't need. Computers are objectively useful.

This goes on until their mid 30s and Steve saves up enough to open his own small tech store. He very hesitantly starts involving his recently unemployed (again) boyfriend in some mundane tasks (upon Eddie's own initiative saying he wants to help) and quickly learns that all of Eddie's previous bosses were morons. Eddie's meticulous and a quick learner with every single task. All he needs is not to have a boss who's a total jackass to him, and a bit of freedom to just... be himself.

Eddie does everything with mild enthusiasm; mild, because it's still work, ugh; enthusiasm, because it's his BOYFRIEND finally being free to do his own thing instead of working for The Man, woohoo, go Stevie! Eddie doesn't need to wear a stupid uniform or put his hair up, can play music in his headphones doing inventory, answers the phones in his special flirty manner, and Steve doesn't have a problem with any of that. He actually listens to Eddie's bitching and recognizes the helpful suggestions to improve things in the middle of all that, instead of telling him to shut up and do his damn job.

Working together can often be the perfect storm to ruin a relationship, but despite becoming Eddie's de-facto boss, Steve never treats him differently. It's never orders, always "Eddie can you [do this and that]?". It's soft smiles and a quiet "thanks, babe", and if no one's around, a kiss on Eddie's cheek when he gets something done. It's a calm explanation instead of yelling if he messes up.

Steve hands Eddie a handful of cash at the end of each week, despite Eddie's comments that it's a bit ridiculous to pay him at all, since he'd been practically living out of Steve's pocket for months at a time, and Steve has been single-handedly paying the rent for their joint apartment. Steve insists though, and Eddie has to admit that it's nice to always have cash in his pocket now.

Eddie learns more and more of everything that's needed to run the store, to the point that he spends a week handling everything alone when Steve's sick with the flu, but it's still a shock when several months later Steve shows him the paperwork in which he writes Eddie in as full partner. Eddie tries to protest, but Steve won't have it; he says he never could have survived all these months of start-up chaos without Eddie, and he fully deserves this. He's been giving Eddie half the store profits for months anyway, time to just make it official.

#steddie #random blurb from the stuad discord #misha-bawlins fanfic

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buryustogether · 11 months

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lilac - chapter 5

miguel o’hara x f!reader

summary: finally, you’re completely, and utterly, alone. but not for long.

wc: 5.2k

tags/warnings: domestic dispute, throwing objects, swearing, breakup, displacement, tooth-rotting fluff

author’s note: seatbelts on please

What woke you the next morning was not heavy, thick arms leaden with muscles, or kisses pressed to your temple with full lips that were curved up into a gentle, tired smile, but rather the alarming buzz of your phone right beside your head. Your eyes opened to stare at the little black box sitting on your pillow inches from your face, the screen bright with an alert that commanded your attention. Grumbling into the pillow and throwing your leg over the empty space beside you, not giving much attention to the fact that your boyfriend should have been there, you grabbed blindly at the phone and brought it to your face.

What you saw pulled you straight from whatever bleariness held you captive.

News stations, shaky cell phone footage, helicopter captures - they all showed the same thing all across every social platform available. An apartment building in Brooklyn had been… well. You didn’t quite know what to call it. Neither did anyone else. The structure of the building had been changed entirely, the very foundation rocked to its core. Floors had been tilted sideways in gravity-defying angles, graffiti no one could decipher had been sprayed and inked along its uneven walls. And to everyone’s horror, the walls and windows and roof seemed to all be glitching, like a television caught between channels. It shook and jumped when officials came too close, threatening to move by itself again and swallow them whole.

No one knew quite what to do. They were calling it a feat of a new villain, the work of a molecular mastermind.

You tapped a news coverage of the strange building, now wide awake and all the sleep cleared from your eyes. The video began to load, that gray little circle swirling around and around… before your phone died and the screen went black.

Releasing a long, growl-like groan of exasperation, you angrily clawed at your charger and plugged your phone in. You tossed off your covers and rubbed at your eye with the palm of your hand, attempting to run through your day. It was some minor holiday - you couldn’t remember which - so school was out, and you had today off from the club, so you were free to do as you wished.

Well, as you sort of wished. Grocery shopping, cleaning the apartment, doing laundry… since god knew Ferris didn’t do any of it.

Your attention was drawn to the front room of the apartment when you heard the door open and closed, followed by a pair of voices. One, you recognized. The other, you did not. Following the soft murmurs and laughter into the main room, you found Ferris and his new keyboard player leaning against the kitchen counter, passing your jug of milk back and forth between them. The girl spotted you standing in the doorway first, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of you watching them like a predator who had cornered two rabbits who were too stupid to be paying attention. She set the jug down on the counter and plastered on a small smile.

“Hi,” she said and waved a hand in your direction.

Ferris glanced up, following her gaze, and almost seemed to stop himself from jumping when he caught your slitted eyes watching him. He reached up to wipe at his lip with his sleeve, clearing his throat. “Hey, babe,” he said, but there was no kind of affection in his tone. It was all guilt and regret for being caught in what he seemed to think was a furtive meet up with his new fucking keyboard player.

As you stared at the two, as you stared at your half-emptied jug of milk sitting on the counter, you felt your chest tightening more and more until there was hardly any room left for you to breathe. Your blood was frozen in your veins, flooding your body with a chilly kind of fire. Every single fiber of your being was alight, fueling the fire that had sparked to life in your chest.

A part of you wanted to play dumb. A part of you wanted to pretend you had no idea what this was, go along with whatever kind of game he was playing because, if you didn’t, you’d be alone.

But that other part of you, that bigger, hulking, furious part of you knew you couldn’t do this anymore. You couldn’t play this part any longer, couldn’t memorize this script while you were also the one writing it and directing the whole show. This stupid fucking costume didn’t fit anymore. The stage wasn’t set any longer.

The show was fucking over.

Like she was sensing the oncoming storm brewing in your home, the girl shuffled on her feet toward the door. “I think I’ll just show myself out,” she said. She started to say goodbye to your boyfriend, beginning to raise a hand, before she caught the dangerous gleam in your eye and slipped out without another word.

As soon as she left, you crossed the room into the kitchen. Ferris regarded you with an unreadable expression. You thought that, maybe, a bit of that furrowed brow was guilt. Fear. You liked the idea of him being afraid of you. But you didn’t allow yourself to indulge in such a thought. For now, all that you could think of was this rage building and building in your throat. That - and the fucking dishes in the sink.

A couple of plates, a few spoons, and a fork. Stuck for days in this porcelain bowl while the dishes in the washer got themselves dirty again.

All this time. All this… effort. And for what? Nothing but a couple dishes left in the sink and this fire growing in your belly.

From behind you, Ferris shuffled himself awkwardly and swallowed thick. “I, uh… I thought you’d already left for work.”

You pursed your lips, feeling tears prod at the corners of your eyes as you stared at the faucet. Silently, you took the deepest breath you could, brought up every ounce of courage that you found within yourself.

You didn’t care if you were going to be alone anymore. You just wanted this to be over.

“I am so fucking done with you.”

For a long, long while, there was only the sound of silence in your apartment. Downstairs a few flights, a dog barked madly. Outside, car horns blared. Thunder rolled in the distance, bringing with it the promise of pouring rain and lightning that would light the sky alight with a fire unmatched.

Ferris said, “What?”

“I said - “ You reached into the skin and grabbed one of the plates, your fingers dipping into the water gathered at the bottom, then spun around on your heel and launched it directly at his head. “I’M DONE WITH YOU!”

He just barely dodged the projectile, his gaze swinging around with it as it sailed through the air and shattered into thousands of pieces against the wall. They scattered like bullet casings, twisting about your bare feet.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” he shouted, lifting a foot to stare at the pieces. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

You picked your way across the tile floor, tiptoeing around the glinting shards, then jumped into the hallway and stormed back toward the bedroom. As you threw the door open all the way, surely leaving a dent in your wall, you heard him following you.

You didn’t care anymore. You didn’t give a fuck.

As rain droplets began to tick against your windows, you heaved the closet door open, grabbed a pile of his clothes from his side, and tossed them out onto the floor. A number of his shoes followed, dropping limply to the hardwood as you continued to scrounge for more of his belongings.

Ferris grabbed onto the door frame as he came to a stop before you, watching with wide eyes and a gaping mouth as you emptied your closet of his things. “Hey, hey, hey! What the fuck are you doing?!”

Once you were satisfied you’d gotten everything from the closest, you stalked over to his side of the bed and began to rip everything out of its place. His phone charger, his nightstand trinkets, everything that looked and smelled and seemed like him.

His hand came from behind to grab your shoulder, and before you could stop yourself, you flung yourself around and smacked him hard across the face. Before he had a chance to react, to even raise a hand to his cheek, you felt tears spill down your cheeks as you yelled, “Get out! I want you out!”

“Oh, come on, nothing was going to happen -”

“Oh!” you shouted, then stormed past him, out from the bedroom, and into the hallway. He followed close behind, watching as you grabbed his hoodie from where it was slung over the back of the couch and tossed it to the floor. “You’re so fucking stupid, Ferris, you don’t - You don’t get it!”

He stopped you as you made to head for the bathroom next, holding you by your shoulders so tight your skin ached and his knuckles paled. “What?” he demanded, sporting a fleshy red mark on his face where you’d struck him. “Don’t fucking get what?”

“Everything!” you howled, feeling as tears cascaded down your cheeks to your chin. From there, they traveled down your neck and to your collar. “Fucking everything, Ferris! The way you bring people into our home, the way you never help with the bills, the - Jesus, the FUCKING DISHES IN THE SINK! Would it kill you to put away the fucking dishes?!” Ripping yourself from his hold, you reached up to weakly wipe at your tears. “I gave you so many chances, so many. So many signs…! And you never saw them. You never fucking saw them. So I’m giving you one now that you won’t be able to miss. Get. Out.”

For a long moment, Ferris only stared at you. You weren’t able to identify the expression playing his features, but it certainly was not the one that always stared you down on the regular. And you basked in it. Then suddenly he was moving, grasping your shoulders, coming close enough to show that his bottom lip was quivering. Normally you would have wrapped him up in a hug, held him close.

But now you wanted him as far away from you as possible.

“Hey, hey,” he said lowly, sounding strangely sweet. “Just take a breath, alright? Deep breath. We don’t have to do this right now. We’ll get this all cleaned up, sit down, take a break. And we’ll talk it out just like we always do, right?”

“There’s no talking about this, Ferris,” you sniffled, trying to push him away. “There were so many times to sit down and have a goddamn conversation, and you never wanted to. So what makes you think I would sit down and talk this out with you?”

Ferris held on tight despite you trying to get away from him, holding you so that your chests were pressed together. A chill crawled up your spine as you remembered last night; the neon glow of the lights, the feeling of Spiderman’s muscles beneath his shirt, the sensations that crawled across your body when he sighed and held you close.

How fucking pathetic was it that you felt safer in a stranger’s arms than in your own boyfriend’s?

“Because we always work things out, baby,” he said, pulling your attention back to his face. His eyes had faded pink like he was the one that was about to cry - like he was the one who was allowed to cry - and he rubbed his hands up and down your arms. “Right? We always come around. We - we can start over, okay? Forget about the band, and - and that Miguel guy always texting you, and our jobs, and everything. We’ll move, okay? Fresh starts.”

You regarded him with wide eyes, your lips parted and curled upwards in a sneer that you didn’t think you were capable of. A new, fresh kind of feeling entered your veins, one like ice water had replaced your blood. You released a low, disgusted sound from the back of your throat and clasped a hand over your throat. “You - have you been going through my phone?”

Ferris pursed his lips - a tell he had that his anger was starting to flare up. “Only to keep you safe,” he urged. When you finally shoved him away and turned, he burst. “And good thing I have been, too, huh?! That creep is practically stalking you! Texting every other night, asking you to meet up -”

“Because of his fucking kid!” you howled, then grabbed the television remote and threw it at his head. He must have seen your windup, because he ducked, letting the projectile sail over his head and smack against the couch behind him. “He’s a father, you fucking dickhead - his kid is my goddamn student! I’ve been tutoring her! Not going out on dates with the guy! How selfish can you be?!”

“You and I both know those aren’t texts of some shitty-ass ‘well to do’ pops,” he threw back when he’d returned to his full height. “Asking how you’re doing in the middle of the night? While you’re at work? Real classy, that guy is. Trying to fuck his kid’s teacher.”

“Will you get out already!” Tears rivered down your cheeks as you hugged yourself, bare feet freezing against the hardwood floor and heart thundering in your ears loud enough to triumph the rain that had begun its pounding on the windows. “Get the fuck out of my apartment!”

Ferris stared at you for a long, long while, his chest heaving and his eyes ablaze with some kind of emotion you could not place. For a moment or two, you thought briefly that he was going to strike you. But then he stooped to grab his hoodie and stormed past you. Broken pieces of plate crunched under his shoes as he threw open the front door. “Call me when you’re ready to talk like an adult,” he said over his shoulder, then left you alone.

So incredibly, utterly, terrifyingly alone.

Slowly, as the blood rushing in your ears faded away, the noises of the outside world returned. The dog downstairs was still barking. The cars were still honking. The rain was pounding, and the thunder was rolling, and you were sobbing.

Contorting your mouth into a cry as a broken wail escaped your lips, you let yourself sink down to the cold floor and hung your head in your lap. Your systems were all fried, your brain on break. The only thing you could do was sit there in a heap and cry, shaking amidst the absolute mess you’d made of your home.

What seemed like hours later, and when you found yourself all out of tears, you sat up and stared at an empty place across the room. You’d finally, actually, truly done it. You’d kicked him out, opened your chest and shown him just how many bullet wounds you’d been carrying from every time he pulled that trigger of a tongue. He was gone. And you intended to keep it that way.

White noise invaded your ears as you set to work, allowing the rest of the world to fade away. You swept up the shattered pieces of porcelain on the kitchen floor; when you picked up a larger piece that had tried to get away from you, you realized it reminded you of your monarch mask from the club. You let it drop to the ground, and then you cleaned up those pieces, as well.

Next you emptied your box of trash bags and dragged them behind you as you traveled your apartment room to room, corner to corner, clearing out everything that belonged to Ferris. His clothes, his utilities and trinkets and prized possessions - they all went into the bags. And those bags were hauled downstairs and placed in the corner beside the trash. The guitar was leaned up against them. When you went back down half an hour later to throw out his food you hated the leftovers he’d been letting rot, it was gone.

Maybe those strings could make someone better than him happier than he was.

When the entire place was cleared of him, you dug through your wallet and the secret stash you kept in the sole of one of your ratty shoes and went to knock on your landlord’s door. The locks on yours were changed in less than an hour.

And when you finally felt safe enough to breathe in your own air again, you cleaned your entire home. Floor to ceiling, you mopped and wiped down and sprayed until every single trace of him was gone. The sheets were changed. The couch cushions washed. Every single piece of grime and dirt he’d brought into your life was gone.

And you couldn’t have been more glad.

Ferris had been a stain on your life, one you hadn’t necessarily wanted to clean and get rid of. If you did, it meant that you’d be left with a blank slate, with the echo of what you used to have. But echoes were meant to fade away. And blank slates were meant to be filled with new things. Bigger, better, brighter things.

It must have been late evening, after the rain had finally calmed and the thunder moved south, when you were pulled from the little dinner you were making yourself by a knock on the door. Your head whipped around, systems on high alert, thinking it was Ferris. You stayed perfectly still and silent.

There came another, slightly more frantic knock, followed by a call of your name. But it wasn’t Ferris on the other side. “Hello?” said Miguel O’Hara. “Are you home?”

For the first time today, since the moment you’d opened your eyes this morning, a certain kind of warmth blossomed throughout your chest. Setting the stove to low, you crossed the little kitchen, unchained your new locks, and swung the door open. The sight that greeted you was not the one you realized you were expecting.

Both Miguel and Gabriella were soaked to the bone, creating a puddle at your doorstep, and each hauling a small load of baggage over their shoulders. Their matching eyes were tired, exhausted. The little girl was shivering through her wet clothes, and her father tugged her closer to his side in an attempt to keep her warm.

“Hey,” murmured Miguel when your alarmed gaze flickered to meet his.

“Oh, my god,” you said, then stepped aside so that they could enter. “Get inside, please. Come on.” You watched as they trudged into your kitchen, lugging their things with them. “What the hell happened?” you asked, forgetting your mouth in front of your third grader.

Miguel dropped his bag down beside the door as you shut and locked it, releasing a long, weighted sigh from the back of his throat. He dipped his head down and palmed at the back of his neck as he turned to face you. “The apartment,” he said shortly, and suddenly you understood. The apartment building this morning in Brooklyn that had been disfigured by… whatever. It had been theirs.

How long had they been out in this?

“Jesus,” you said, kneeling down to grab a clean dish rag and towel Gabriella’s soaking hair. She sniffed tightly as you did so, her large, brown eyes shut to the sensation of your hands moving across her head. Poor fucking kid - displaced by whatever new freak incident New York had to offer this week.

“I tried to call you,” said Miguel from where he stood over you.

Your heart sunk slightly in your chest. “I’m so sorry,” you said as you stood, clutching the towel to your chest. God, even with all that excess water weighing him down, he still towered over you like a mountain. You were able to see his midsection through his wet shirt; but you didn’t let yourself go there. Not now. “I’ve been busy all day. Something - something happened, and…”

He met your eyes, limp hair hanging in his face to frame his temples, his cheekbones, his finely-cut jaw. A drop of water fell from the squared point of his chin, landing on the top of your bare foot. It sent a shiver racing in a mad dash up your spine. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered to you, and you were able to feel his warm breath fan across your face. Christ, when had you gotten this close? “We didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Don’t do that.” Against your better judgment, because today had been a day of going against every wall and boundary you knew, you reached up to ghost your fingers along his jaw. You swore you heard his breath hitch in his throat as he blinked down at you. “You can stay as long as you need to. Both of you.” You swallowed, clenching your jaw against the screaming, searing sensation that wanted you to lean forward and connect your lips to his. “I don’t care if it’s days or weeks or months. You and she will always have a home here.”

This was insane. You could get fired from your job if the board found out you were doing this. But you didn’t care. As of now, your mind had long since run away, and you weren’t in much of a rush to catch it. Because if it felt this good to be out of your head, then by god, did you want to stay like this forever.

Miguel’s head tipped down ever so slightly and his throat moved as he swallowed thick. He had just opened his lips to whisper something in reply when your attention was pulled to the side, reminding you that you were not the only ones here.

“Daddy,” said Gabriella, looking just miserable standing there in a puddle of the water dripping off of her. “I’m really cold.”

Pulling away with a quick glance, Miguel stooped to pull his daughter into his arms. “I know, princesa,” he murmured as he held her, smoothing back hair that had stuck to her face. “We’ll get you warmed up.”

“The bathroom’s just down there,” you said, pointing down the hall. “You can run her a bath, if she wants. I’ll grab her something to wear.”

Nodding his thanks, he carried her and one of her bags down the hall and into the bathroom. A few minutes after the door softly clicked shut, you heard the water begin to run. You leaned against the countertop, staring at the bags gathering water by your front door.

This was happening. This was happening. Miguel O’Hara was going to be staying in your home. After dreaming and fantasizing all this time, he was finally within arm’s reach.

But your quiet comprehension was muted by the cold slap of reality. He wasn’t here for pleasure; he was here out of necessity. Out of survival. He and his daughter wouldn’t have a home for god knew how long; this wasn’t some dream come true. It was a tragedy.

On quiet feet, because you thought you heard Gabriella sniffling from the bathroom as she and her father talked in hushed tones, you crept into your room and retrieved an oversized sweatshirt and some shorts that she would be able to drawstring tight. After leaving them by the restroom door, you took her and Miguel’s things into the bedroom and laid out what little lay inside to dry; some of his spare clothes, a laptop, legal documents… anything and everything they could have been able to grab before they were evacuated. Staring at a framed picture of Gabriella when she couldn’t have been older than three or four, you wondered just what had caused the strange phenomenon that destroyed their home. Had it been an accident? Or had something targeted taken place?

You wondered if Spiderman was trying to take care of it.

After laying out their belongings to dry on your bed, you hurried back to the kitchen and scrambled to make your dinner enough for three people to share. You hoped they liked store-brand mac and cheese.

Some time later, after you’d heard your hair dryer running for a while, Miguel and Gabriella emerged from your restroom. She looked tiny in your old pajamas, but she seemed content with the way the long sleeves flopped about her arms and the hoodie framed her face like a curtain. He’d also changed into a spare set of clothes he must have had in the bag - a loose pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt that stretched in the most perfect way across his well-defined pecs. You couldn’t help but stare for a moment longer than necessary when they wandered back into the kitchen, following their noses to the plates waiting for them.

“Hope you two are hungry,” you said as you gave them each their dinner. “Gabriella, honey, the remote is on the arm of the couch, if you want to watch TV while you eat.”

After waiting for a nod from her father, she took her plate and scurried over to your couch. A moment later, your apartment was filled with the quiet sounds of cartoons.

Miguel released a long, deep sigh from the pit of his stomach as he leaned back against the kitchen counter with you, crossing his bare feet at the ankles. How funny it was, how beautifully ironic, how quickly this had become an idyllic scene of domestication. “I really can’t tell you how much this helps us,” he said, pushing mac and cheese around with his fork. His thick, full brows pinched together as he lost himself in thought. You noticed that when he did, a little line appeared at the corner of his mouth. “It all happened so quickly. Just…”

“Hey.” Again going against what your brain tried to pull you away from, you placed the hand that wasn’t holding your bowl over his wrist. Despite having been soaked just a short time ago, his tan skin was warm beneath your own. When your fingers slid down, you felt the soft twitch of his pulse. “It’s alright, Miguel. You’re here now. She’s safe.” You gave him a small, crooked smile. “It’ll be okay.”

He held your gaze for a long while, so long that you felt your heart skip a beat, and when it did, he released a small chuckle - like he could hear it. Finally, you both looked down to push around at your dinners. He did not ask you about the absence of your boyfriend that you had told him pushed you out of your own home that day at the library. You were sure a keen man like him could pick up on a few things; how there were no belongings of another man here, how there were dents in the walls where you’d thrown items and slammed doors.

He didn’t ask, and you were glad. It seemed, in a way, he knew.

You loved that he did.

Behind you, the sound of a speaker being fiddled with pulled your heads around. Gabriella had discovered the little record player on your shelf - a gift to yourself a year or two ago. You hadn’t played it much, what with Ferris’ constant complaining about it. But as you watched the little girl gingerly place a vinyl down on the player, you realized you’d been missing out.

“Ay,” scolded Miguel and set down his bowl. “Manos a ti mismo.”

“It’s okay,” you said, then moved into the living room to help her with the settings. “I haven’t used this thing in forever.”

Seemingly still a little shell shocked from the events of the day, Gabriella watched you shyly as you dropped the needle and suddenly, music was spilling from the speakers. It wasn’t the kind of music your old boyfriend played on that guitar of his; this was real, with heart and feeling and a kind of rhythm that pulled your heart slightly from the abyss it was stuck in.

‘Hey, what’s the matter with your head, yeah?’

And then, because fuck, you couldn’t think of anything else to do, and because your feet were suddenly moving on their own, you started dancing. You swayed back and forth to the beat of the song, to the bass and the melody, wiggling your head a bit.

“Come on, pretty girl,” you said, taking Gabriella’s small hands in yours. “Will you show me that beautiful smile and dance with me?”

Slowly, gingerly, like a bit of her fiery, lively soul was returning to her, Gabriella’s lips thinned into a smile. She let you pull her around the living room, beginning to copy your movements as she grinned and giggled. Her limbs were sluggish and awkward, a wonderful testament to the mere nine years she’d been on the earth, but her laughter and her tongue poking through the place where she’d recently lost a tooth made up for it. Lyrics like directions to your awful little dance spewed from the shelf where the record player sat, witness to the show in your home.

‘Baby, find it, come on and find it.’

You spun on your heel to face Miguel, who was standing at the entrance of your kitchen, watching the scene before him with parted lips and hooded eyes that made your stomach turn violently and passionately. Shuffling closer to him and bringing forth every ounce and inch of courage you hand, you took your hands and wiggled up close. You breathed out the next lyrics in a sing-songy whisper only he could hear.

“Bear with it, baby, ‘cause you’re fine, and you’re mine, and you look so divine.”

Miguel’s head tilted to the side in that way he did, gaze wider now and the beginnings of a low, enthralled smile twisting his lips. Then his feet were moving, allowing you to pull him into the living room with Gabriella to join your little dance.

While she twisted and spun and pretended to know the words, you felt his fingers interlace with yours. You grinned, because holy fuck - what else in the world was there to do? - and let him sway you back and forth with the thrum of the song, fronts just inches apart and legs already tangled together. He began to hum the song from the back of his throat, from the bottom of his belly, and you swore you’d never heard a better sound in your life.

When Gabriella had turned away, too caught up in her own world of the song, Miguel leaned in close so that his cheek brushed yours, so that your chests were pressed together, so that his full lips grazed the shell of your ear. He murmured so softly you strained to hear him over the swell of the music, but you did.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispered.

Then he pulled back away to bore his gaze down into your own, his forehead just barely grazing yours.

You didn’t know what to say. Didn’t trust yourself to say nothing, because you might have just shrunk into yourself and disappeared into the very tingling, overwhelming ache and pang of want and need and everything else in your heart. Didn’t trust yourself to open your mouth, because you might have just leaned up and kissed him.

So you just pressed your forehead up into his, smiled so bright and so wide your cheeks hurt, and danced.

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#miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara #miguel atsv #miguel o’hara atsv #across the spiderverse #atsv x reader #spiderman 2099

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sayruq · 7 months

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Today was a big for the resistance. It seems people were right, they were waiting for Biden to leave so they can respond to the Ah Ahli Hospital massacre (the tweets below are arranged from the earliest reports I saw to the latest in order to show the coordination between different groups in different countries and the escalation)

Like I said, a big day for the resistance

And I see no signs of things slowing down

The Palestinian resistance has a list of objectives for this operation including damaging Israel's economy, forcing Israel citizens to flee the country, and slowing down immigration to Israel in the long term (because that leads to new settlements)

In other news, Biden's bloodlust was enough to disgust an arms dealer.

Several of his staff have also expressed discomfort with the administration's choices the past few weeks

Nonetheless, American troops have been told to prepare for deployment

The past few days I've been pointing out how Russia has gone from pro Israel to carefully neutral to increasingly critical of Israel and now we have this.

I'm so glad that Israel has continued to shoot itself on its foot by isolating itself from Russia and China

Russia is actively intervening to ensure that America and its allies can't use the Black Sea to counter the resistance in West Asia which is a big deal

So far, all signs are pointing to a regional conflict

This has to be a huge blow to Israel seeing so many countries, even a NATO nation, coming together to ensure that it can't annihilate Palestine.

More importantly, it shows that Palestine does not stand alone.

#palestine #free palestine #free gaza #gaza #colonialism #decolonisation

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gallusrostromegalus · 2 years

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You don't think matcha is tea????

Matcha isn't a Tea in my humble Opinion.

Matcha is an experience.

The year is 2009, the place is the University of Hawai'i at Manoa in Honolulu, and I am recovering from a still-undiagnosed disease that left me with a 100+ degree for over three weeks, extreme weight loss and permanent Brain Damage. I have signed up for an introductory Art History class because I need an additional Humanities credit.

It's called "The History and Philosophy of the Japanese Tea Ceremony", and for a class I can only sort of remember, it stands out.

So I'm in professor Roberts' Japanese Tea Ceremony class, looking and feeling like death warmed over, but I'm genuinely interested in the subject matter and show up to every class because I have nothing better to do, and ask questions and turn in my homework, even if neither are particularly coherent at times, and rapidly become his favorite student. The thing I learned in public school was how to show up to events even if I don't want to, analyze tests and other written materials for patterns and charm educators by holding up my end of a conversation, skills that have served me in the modern world far more than learning actual course content would have.

The Tea Ceremony, historically, takes a good month to prepare and the entire evening to carry out- the guest list is curated to create social bonds and intellectual stimulation alike, a poem is composed for the season, and a seasonal flower arrangement created to decorate the space. When the guests arrive, they must all crawl through a small door to enter the tea garden, regardless of profession or rank. Hands are ritually washed in spring water, and there is a slow processional walk through the garden, to admire the artistry of the landscaping, and the composition of seasonal elements to create this particular night of beauty. The entire ceremony is about appreciating both the joy of existing right now, in this time and place, and the unification of the self and the universe and the endless cycles of nature.

The guests arrive at the tea house and meet the Tea Master, who will be making the Matcha that evening. The guests are seated in particular order, the Most Revered Guest- sometimes a high-ranking official, sometimes a visiting scholar or artist- is seated closest to the Tea Master. The Poem is read aloud. The Flowers are admired. The tools for making the Matcha are taken out, examined as objects of art, and their history told. The matcha powder itself is taken out- the case examined, the cultivation of the tea discussed, and only then does the Tea Master make the Tea.

Matcha is not brewed- it's a fine powder made of crushed green tea leaves, and the powder is whisked together with not-quite-boiling water in a bowl to create a much more substantial and flavorful drink. This drink is presented to the Most Revered Guest first, who is expected to take a sip and, in a moment of Zen spiritual clarity, comment on its flavor and how all the elements of the tea, art, garden and season all complement each other, and perhaps offer some sort of philosophical statement.

At least,

That's how it's supposed to go.

About a month before the spring semester is over, Professor Roberts announces that he has a surprise for his class- a good friend of his, a Professional Tea Master, will be visiting Hawai'i, and has agreed to perform a Tea Ceremony for our class! I am very excited. The other 10 people in class are varying levels of amiably confused to distressed by having to go to An Event (TM) for a grade, but agree. One of my classmates, an astrology hoe named Jessica, pointed out that with the 11 students, Professor Roberts, and the Tea Master, there will be 13 people present, which is basically inviting disaster.

"Jessica." Sighed Professor Roberts. "It's a Tea Ceremony. What disaster could happen?"

Despite Jessica's misgivings, Preparations for the ceremony went on. We learned about Ikebana while deciding on the Ceremonial Bouquet and tried our hands at it with what Professor Robert could get at the grocery store for $12. We learned about calligraphy and different types of poetic compositions while making the Seasonal Poem, and stain the hell out of the classroom carpet learning the brush strokes. We learn about different types of Matcha Bowl sculpting and glazing and we are not allowed to touch the demonstration bowls or the kiln because Professor Roberts was beginning to suspect that some of his students (me) were suffering from coordination issues. I apply myself with zeal, if not necessarily talent. I was, at the time, an Art Major, but my professors in the art department had been grading me on a secret "this bitch almost died last semester and is re-learning how to hold a pencil" curve, and boy howdy did I stumble and break leaves and splatter ink like it.

Despite my ongoing unmonitored recovery, Professor Roberts viewed my enthusiastic class participation with rose-colored glasses, and about a week before the ceremony we had a class where he brought out the used Kimonos and Obi and other forms of japanese dress he'd borrowed from the theater department so that we would be traditionally dressed(ish) and experience the ceremony authentically(ish). While people were trying on clothes to see what would fit, he took me aside and told me he wanted me to be in the position of Most Revered Guest, the person who makes the zen statement upon which the entire event hinges.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" I asked.

"You're the only person who doesn't fall asleep in class and you talked about how the flowers stagger their blooms to not compete for the bees- you're perfectly engaged and conscious of the seasons!" He said, blindly. "You will need different shoes though." He indicated my flip-flops. "I won't make you learn how to walk in Geta, but nothing with Heels. Ballet flats are fine."

"...These are the only shoes I own." I said.

Professor Roberts stared at me.

"-I used to have a pair of sneakers but I think a homeless guy stole them while I was at the beach last month."

"What?" Roberts blinked.

"He probably needed them more than I do. I'll see if I can borrow some flats."

"...I don't think I've ever met a woman with less than 10 pairs of shoes." Said Roberts.

"I'm not a woman, I'm and undergrad." I said, still three years away from learning the term 'Nonbinary'. "Those are Jordan's only pair of shorts, you know." I pointed at my classmate, who had been wearing the one (1) pair of basketball shorts for the entire semester.

"I WASH THEM." Jordan shouted defensively, wearing the longest Men's Kinmo the theater department had, which barely came down to the top of his calves.

"Oh God." Said Roberts, a horrifying new world opening up to him like a tub of Expired sour cream.

It was the day of the Ceremony.

The Seasonal Theme we'd worked on was "The Turn Of Summer", and the weather was complying maliciously.

Normally, Tea Ceremonies are scheduled for the more temperate evening, but due to the school needing to host something in the adjoining cultural center later, we could only use the Tea Garden in the middle of the afternoon, and the summer sun was a sweltering 98 degrees and a similar level of Humidity. The Camelias were melting.

Where Jordan had difficulty finding a Kimono that suited his ent-like proportions, I'd had the opposite problem and the only Kimono short enough to not trip my Hobbit-sized self was a Child’s size. My roommate had helped me get into the Kimono and Obi before the ceremony, and leant me a pair of her Ballet Flats, but we discovered an issue- this Kimono was designed for a flat-chested prepubescent youth, and even though I barely scraped 5'0", I had the robust proportions of an Irish Peasant, and the only way to avoid displaying a frankly offensive amount of cleavage was to use the widest Obi we could find and sort of tuck my boobs into it.

"Hm" I said. "Kind of hard to breathe."

"Yeah, but you're sitting for most of it, right? It can't last more than an hour, so just like, shuffle and don't talk much?" She suggested.

To her credit, the first forty-five minutes of the ceremony only involved shuffling through the gardens and not talking while the Tea Master lectured us on some of the finer points of the garden's design.

But then we got to the Tea House- a small structure only barely able to accommodate the 13 of us, which was in the shade but hotter than the outside because of the roaring fire in the middle of the room, where the water for the Matcha was boiling. The room was surrounded by a narrow sort of porch, part of which hung over the Koi pond, where several massively overfed carp blurbled expectantly for treats at the arrival of humans. I sat down, legs folded under me like Professor Roberts had insisted, and realized that this pushed the Obi UP, and now my rib cage was being compressed in all directions.

I tried to pay attention to the rest of the ceremony, but two and a half hours is an awfully long time to listen about lecturers you've already heard when your body is undergoing a sort of internal horserace to see if the heatstroke, sciatica pain and numbness, allergies or suffocation-by-compression will cause you to pass out first. My legs had gone numb below the knee by the time we were done with the flower arrangement. My entire legs were numb before we were done with the Poem. By the time the Tea Utensils came out, I was seeing spots of colored light in my vision and could only breathe if I focused on it very, very hard.

But! The ceremony was genuinely interesting! and Professor Roberts was counting on me! So I did my best not to sway or throw up from watching the Tea Master whisk the Matcha, and dutifully took the bowl with a pair of hands that felt like slabs of ham that I was attempting to puppet from another dimension, and took a sip.

They say that Smell and Taste are far more closely connected to the emotional centers of the brain than any other sense, and I believe it because the instant I inhaled both the grassy, powdery smell, and tasted the moderately viscous bubbly liquid, I experienced an intense flashbulb memory back to a previous late May-

The Year was '98, the place was my elementary school art room, and we'd been using the seasonal hot weather to paint on a massive scale as the art dried quickly- each third-grader had been given a roll of butcher paper, a cheap brush, squirts of non-toxic paint and a water cup, and allowed to go hog-wild on our murals, and the rush of creative energy and the imminent sense of freedom as the semester drew to a close truly embodied the summer of youth, carefree but with an almost psychotic fervor, where lack of care was both freeing and dangerous as you lost track of your surroundings in the act of creation-

Which isn't a bad seasonal-philosophical connection statement to make, but the actual words that came out of my mouth were:

"Wow. This tastes exactly like paint."

The first sound I heard after the moment of silence was the cartoonishly loud gasp of horror from Professor Roberts, which was almost immediately drowned out by the thunderclap of laughter from the Tea Master, slapping his thighs and wiping tears from his face, unable to stop. I desperately tried to explain the connection between the fact I might be dying of heat stroke right now, and how I ended up drinking my paint water back in Mrs. Krantz's art class because back then I was also dying of heat stroke, but mostly ended up wheezing half-formed sentences as the rest of the class took sips and offered opinions varying between "Wow, that's thick. Like a Hot smoothie." and "Oh yeah, it tastes like summer. Like how a freshly-mowed lawn smells like summer." Professor Roberts slowly melted into a pile of shame, and the Tea Master slapped him on the back, still howling with laughter.

"They're honest! Nobody else will be honest! This is magnificent!" he wheezed.

Eventually, everyone had their taste, and the ceremony was concluded. The second the Tea Master had packed up his tools and stepped outside for a breath of fresh air, Professor Roberts was in my face.

"HOW COULD YOU SAY THAT?" he hissed, grabbing my arm and pulling me up. "GO APOLOGIZE RIGHT NOW!" he shoved me out onto the porch where the Tea Master was looking at the Koi, who had started bubble-begging aggressively again.

Except that my legs felt like blocks of wood that my pelvis was renting from another planet where legs hadn’t been invented yet, my vision was entirely static between the dehydration and lack of oxygen, and my vestibuar system had fucked off an hour ago, leaving me to stay upright by purely by the virtue of the over-tightened Obi. So instead of bowing and apologizing profusely like my professor expected, what I actually did was stumble out of the room, say something like "Hsdfkf" and topple head-first into the koi pond.

Fortunately, the impact of the bottom of the pond with the top of my skull activated a sort of last-resort emergency self preservation system and I inhaled with enough force to break the Obi-Jime and probably a couple ribs from the pain that hit both my sides like lightning. Unfortunately, the thing I was inhaling was fish-shit riddled Pond Water, so my emergency self-preservation system ordered an even harder Exhale.

The Tea Master, to his immense credit, had immediately jumped in after me, and pulled me upright just in time for me to forcibly exhale half a gallon of rancid pond water directly into his face, then start screaming. Screaming is an extremely appropriate reaction to have when injured, because it alerts everyone that you require medical attention, but is very unpleasant to experience from four inches away, which is probably why he then immediately dropped me.

Fortunately the pond wasn't very deep and this time I sat there, scream-gasping as my lungs reinflated, Koi fish burbling and sucking at me with tremendous excitement, until the EMT from the campus clinic arrived, a vanguard before the actual ambulance.

"Okay uh. You're bleeding." he said, cautiously wading into the pond.

I opened my eyes to find that I had apparently acquired a large and profusely bleeding head wound, which had activated some long-suppressed Shark Instincts in the Koi, which were eagerly gumming at the streams of blood and trying to suck on my forehead. "Good thing they don’t have teeth." I said in the distant bliss that only zen masters and people with serious head injuries get to experience.

"Do you want a towel?" he asked, helping me up.

"No, this is rather refreshing, actually." I said, still absolutely smashed on endorphins, Koi still enthusiastically swarming at my kneecaps.

"I mean like for your-" the EMT Gestured Vaguely at my torso.

I looked down and realized that not only had I broken the Obi-jime, the entire Obi had come undone and was floating several feet away, and I was only wearing the Kimono, fallen completely off my shoulders and was only being prevented from performing a full Lady Godiva by the valiant efforts of the safety pin my roommate had put in to keep it folded correctly while we figured out the Obi.

"Professor Roberts?" I stood up all the way, soaking wet, bleeding from my forehead with such force as to create actual streams of blood down my face, neck and chest, tits out, and addressed the poor man standing, white-faced on the deck above the pond. "I don't think I'm going to be in class on Monday-" I paused to fish a small Koi that had gotten trapped in the remains of the now-ruined Kimono, and tossed it back into the pond. "-Can I schedule a make-up exam for the Final?"

"FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, GET IN THE AMBULANCE!" He screamed.

I was x-rayed for a skull fracture, but my lifelong membership to the Lactose Tolerance Club had protected me, and I happily texted my roommate to come pick me up as "They x-rayed my head and found nothing" while the doctor stitched part of my scalp back together.

The following morning, I discovered that Professor Roberts had graded my exam before I took it. 100%. Truly, the best way to get a good grade on your finals is to get a serious head injury.

So, Matcha is not a Tea, in my humble opinion.

Matcha is an Experience.

And sometimes that experience is drinking something almost exactly like paint, ruining an important cultural ceremony, traumatizing your professor, and introducing a bunch of fish to the taste of human flesh.

***

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#Family Lore #Tea Ceremony #Matcha #injury mention #blood mention

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chaethewriter · 1 year

Text

You're dead to me [4]

dad!Jake Sully x human!daughter!reader

In which Jake Sully leaves his life on earth to settle down with the Omatikaya people as Toruk Makto. Having a family that consists of four kids with Neytiri, everything seems to work out just fine, but what if the past comes back for him? And his babygirl is right there in front of him?

warning: english isn't my first language, angsty, vulnerable Jake, PTSD, night terrors

Word count: 3k

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Jake Sully felt like gripping his dreadlocks out of his head. He barely showed it when he felt conflicted and unfocused, usually able to hide it well. But right now he couldn't keep the facade up the entire time, acting like everything was fine and it seemed like Neytiri caught on to his behavior as well. He was pacing around the pod as he thought of you, the young warrior that was giving him the silent treatment and he wanted to know why. "Ma Jake," a hand is placed on his shoulder and he stopped his frantic pacing, turning his head to the side to come face to face with his mate, "what is up with you lately? You have been so tense these days." Ever since he met you a few days ago, you didn't leave his mind, wondering what it was with you that made him want to treat you as his own. Was it your name? The fact you were so young? Could it be possible that you really were his daughter? Then why didn't you say anything? Is he officially turning delusional right now? Neytiri wrapped her arm around him as she helped him sit on the woven carpets, her cheek leaning against his shoulder, "talk to me, speak to me." It felt nice to know he could rely on someone, but this wasn't an ordinary problem he could talk about. He never really spoke about his life back on planet earth to anyone, because it was his past life. His present self is on Pandora, so he focused on learning the Omatikaya ways and his focus was on his future. But he always wondered how you were and what you were up to. If you were well and living your life to the fullest. He wished he could have been there to watch you grow up. But now that this warrior was here, he had to know. Was it you? His sweet babygirl? The one who would ask for cuddles everytime you saw him? The one that sat on his lap on his wheelchair as they went outside? His sweet child? Answers is what he needed, but he didn't want to be a bother or seem delusional. What if he made all of this up, because he missed you? "I don't know how to say this, yawne, I'm so conflicted. So guilty." He expected her to reply, but she stayed quiet. She wanted him to explain at his own pace without interfering. His hand dug down to take his hunter's knife in his grip, as he hold it upside down. Neytiri watched his grip on the knife as she squints her eyes. She noticed how something is dangling from the end. She saw it a few times around the pod, knowing it was Jake's. Yet she didn't want to pry him into telling her what it was. He would tell her himself eventually and the time to tell was now. A bond is formed around trust and she trusts him. The locket tiny is in comparison to their size. She watched how he untied the small chain from the thumb hole at the end of the handle. He struggled a bit, because of how tiny the knot was. Pulling at the chain with his fingernails, once he pulled the chain away from the hunter's knife he sheathed the sharp object back to his hip. He pulled Neytiri closer to him as he sucked a ton of air into his lungs, preparing himself for the one big thing he hid from his family this entire time. He had a lot of explaining to do.

Neytiri awaited what he was about to show and tell her. He clicked the photo locket open with his fingernail, revealing a picture of an adorable little girl that are you. Your head was tilted to the side as you flashed a bright cute smile, your chubby cheeks making you ten times more adorable. "This is my daughter, from back on earth." His index finger traced your face as he started feeling even more guilty for never telling his mate. What would she feel at the moment? Betrayal? He watched as Neytiri's expression retorted into an upset one. His hand grabbed a hold of hers, shaking his head as if he could know what she was thinking, "there was no one special back on earth. Only you, ma yawne. I adopted her after her parents passed. I raised her since she was a baby like she was biologically mine." The way Jake spoke about his daughter with pride made a smile creep onto her face, "she's adorable for a human." Jake rolled his eyes in response, of course, she would say something like that. "But why did you stay?" The question came out of nowhere, one he definitely wasn't expecting and one he definitely couldn't answer clearly, "what?" Jake didn't really ask her that question to his mate, he was surprised. "Why did you stay here on Pandora, instead of returning to earth?" The question was overwhelming him, as his lips were pursed and his hand went to his face, burying his nose into his palms. He thought back to his life as a human: he felt miserable, lost, and an alcoholic as he mourned. He was paralyzed, full of PTSD and night terrors as an ex-military. Yet he had one thing that made his life a good one: you.

His head was pounding as his vision was blurred, his ears ringing in pain. When he opened his eyes to look around, all he saw was blood. His dead comrades are covered in blood, bombs, and explosions going off around him. His head feels fuzzy as he turns to his right, coming face to face with your biological father, lying dead on the ground. Even though his eyes were wide open, they were dull and lifeless. Jake lets out a scream, but he couldn't look away. Then your biological dad's body opened his mouth, "you should have jumped in front of the bullet for me. You don't deserve to live, you had nothing. I had everything, a family, a daughter yet to be born. You stole her for me, you don't deserve this life! You don't deserve her!" The words felt like a knife stabbed him in the heart, someone holding onto the handle to twist it around some more to intensify the pain.

Daddy..

The words were faint.

Daddy..!

Who was that?

Why did it feel so familiar?

"Daddy!!" He was shaken to the core as your hands frantically shook his shoulders. He opened his eyes as he was met with your teary eyes. You were seated on his chest in your cute Disney pajamas, the ones he bought you, as you shook his body, "daddy was crying, me woke up and scared." You babbled as you leaned in to wrap your arms around Jake. "Daddy hurt?" Jake immediately wrapped his arms around you as tight as he could, squeezing you in his arms as he shook his head, "I'm not baby," he reassured you, but those words kept ringing in his head. He didn't deserve you.

The next night he drank, drank all he could to distract himself from the pain. He doesn't deserve you. It's his fault. He doesn't deserve to be your dad. He was drunk when he wheeled himself home in his wheelchair, feeling all dizzy as he unlocked the front door. He put you to sleep before he left, so surely you would still be sleeping right? Wrong. When he opened the door, he was met with your teary eyes yet again. He felt a pang in his chest. He kept hurting you, yesterday and now today as well. "Daddy is back? Couldn't sleep without daddy." You babbled as you walked towards him with a plushie in your arms. It was old and about to fall apart. He always told you how you should throw it away since you were gifted a lot of other plushies that you got from people you knew. You always told him no, because it's the plushie you got from him. He drank a lot yes, but seeing you it felt like he already sobered up. He picked you up from under your armpits and put you on his lap, "Yes babygirl I'm back, worry no more." You smiled at him as you pressed your lips against his, "I love you daddy!!" He was scared to say it back, he didn't deserve you to love him. Instead he just held you close, one arm on your head as the other was wrapped around your back.

I love you too my baby, I really do. I'm sorry I can't do better.

Jake finally opened up to Neytiri. About his night terrors, the guilt that ate him up from the inside how he watched you grew up and not your biological parents. How your biological dad, his comrade, died during the war they fought in. How he should have taken the bullet and died to give you your real dad. How your mom died during your birth and that's how you got into his arms. Then he talked about you. That he fell in love with you the moment you were in his arms. He told her what you were like and how you were the light of his life during his dark human times. How you always wanted to bake with him, but it ended up in a flour fight because none of you could cook. So in the end he would order pizza and sit on the couch with you on his lap, eating as you watched a Disney movie with him. She didn't know what flour was, or pizza and Disney, but eagerly listened to his words with a smile. Her mate was smiling as he was talking about you and it made her love you. "And she never wanted me to go shopping without her, to protect me from bad people. She would climb to stand on my lap to get something from the top shelf as I held her short legs." You truly were his angel and Neytiri could see how much you meant to him, but one thing was bugging her.

"But why is your sky daughter distracting you now out of all days, after so long of not seeing her? what is the entire story, ma Jake?" Neytiri really did know him the best, better than he knew himself. He couldn't lie to her, so he told her the truth, the thoughts that have been eating him alive from the inside. What the Tsahik, her mother, told him. The conflicts he had the day he met you, how you gave him the cold shoulder. The dots connected in his head, this wasn't coincidental, Eywa doesn't do coincidences like these. And Neytiri seemed to agree with the look she gave him, "why don't you talk to that demon child?" She hissed as she spoke, the girl she called cute moments ago not looking so cute anymore once she connected that little face to the young warrior that disrespected her mate. If you really were his daughter, she still wouldn't think twice to teach her a lesson. Are sky people all born with that disrespect, ignorance and selfishness? She remembered when she met Jake, he was ignorant like a baby and making noise for no reason. Jake rubbed his temple, the situation getting even more complicated than he thought it would get. His mate who hates sky people together in a room with the sky girl that could be his daughter. Oh Eywa, how was he supposed to handle this? "Ma yawne please don't call her that. And yes, I tried, many times. But every time I try to look for her, she always manages to just slip past my fingers." A huff left his lips as the entire situation frustrated him to the core. He didn't want to jump to conclusions, or get his hopes up. So he needed to get her to talk. He was deep in thought, but then he got an idea as if a light bulb lit up above his head. "I-I need to go somewhere!" He frantically got up from his sitting position, feeling utterly stupid that he didn't think of this before. Ask Norm. Neytiri shook her head with her lips pursing, a small smile forming, hoping everything will turn out well for him. Because even though she hated sky people, she wanted the best for him.

"You can't run away forever," Norm says as a matter of fact as he watched you sharpening your katana on one of the lab tables with his arms crossed, the map of files under his armpit. A groan leaves your lips as you sent him a frown. Norm only smiles, ", you know you have to face him eventually." He took a seat next to you, and he put the map down on the same table you were working on. Norm read your file the same day you had your checkup, the fighting without a mask. Stupid idea by the way. Being a close friend to Jake Sully, he couldn't help but be curious as he spoke to you about it. That's when you told him the whole story. He felt for you but nagged you to eventually talk to him to make up for all the lost time. And to this day he is still nagging you. You let out a groan as you slammed your forehead against the metal table, "Norm, please! Why is everyone forcing me to talk to him?!" "Because he's your dad?", he says as a matter of fact and you frown at his smug face, "whatever mister know it better, I'm going to get some fruits from the forest." You got up from your seat and sheathed your katana into the safety strap on your hip. You walk towards the door as you took your mask off it, putting it against your face. "Think about it while you're gathering those fruits! Maybe Eywa will knock some sense into you when you walk through mother nature." With an annoyed hiss, you took off.

At the same time, Jake Sully made his way toward the lab. The two of you just missed each other as you went the other way. He slammed the first door open, the door disinfecting him as he took the oxygen mask off the wall. He then opened the second door and immediately took a whizz of the Pandorean air through the mask, attaching it at his hip, "NORM!" His voice boomed through the room, but there was no response in the common area. He stepped further inside the room in an awkward position. He couldn't fit inside the room, so he had to bend his back, yet his head still hit the roof. One of his hands was placed on the roof to keep his balance. "Norm!" He screamed yet again, huffing in annoyance as no one seemed to answer him. No scientist was in sight. Was everyone busy? He decided to walk around the room, well it wasn't really walking in his instance as one step was already almost across the room. His head cocked to the side as his eyes met the map on the table. It was the map from a few days ago, the one Norm gave him and was ripped from his hands by you. He knew he shouldn't do it, but curiosity took over. The same curiosity when he first got into the forests of Pandora. His knees hit the cold floor as he sat down. He took the map in his hands, it being the same size as his palm as he flipped the page with his finger. It was all in Na'vi, as the resistance didn't mind integrating into their culture. The first page was the checkup, with notes all around the text, about Seb, Raja and you. He continued flipping, a page about Seb. He didn't care about him, so he continued flipping and flipping. He grew frustrated as he couldn't find your information. Then he reached one of the last pages.

(Y/N) (L/N) SULLY.

His eyes widened, his heart cracking and beating in his throat all at the same time. Your birth date was the same, your birthplace was the same, and the names of your biological parents. As well as his name right under it. He felt dizzy all of a sudden. His breath hitched in his throat. It really was you. "Norm, I'm back." You walked into the room once you put your mask away, a lot of fruits in your arms that humans could digest. "I was so kind to bring fruits for everyone, you better tha-," when you got into the room, you weren't met with Norm, Max, or any other of the scientists that stayed on Pandora. No, you were met with Jake Sully. Your father. You dropped the fruits you were holding on the floor and at the same time the map fell out of his hands. Jake Sully got up from the floor, proceeding to hit his head against the ceiling at the way he suddenly got up. But he didn't feel the pain, he couldn't feel anything except his heart beating so fast with his eyes focused on his daughter, "my babygirl.." the way he spoke your nickname in his English accent made your heart beat in your throat. He took a step towards you, but you backed away, "don't, don't touch me." Your lips pursed as the tears welled up in your eyes. "My baby-" "I SAID DON'T!!" your scream filled the room, "Don't say anything, Jake Sully." Your voice was harsh as you spoke his name, your expression furious yet so upset.

And he felt his heart break.

A/N: thank you sm for reading. I appreciate the comments you all leave me. Thank you for all the support! I also thought of writing a Neteyam x reader after this, so let me know if you would like to read that. <3

Taglist in the comments cause it doesn't fit here [legit felt like I was tagging like 200 people, so annoying I can only tag 5 per comment]

Y'all have some interesting usernames

#Jake sully #jake sully x human!reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x reader #dad!jake sully #dad!jake x daughter!reader #dad! jake sully #sully family x reader #sully family #neteyam x reader #neteyam #neteyam x sister!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader

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qqueenofhades · 2 years

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Ok wait what why is the FBI investigating the orange????

Well, you see, the thing is that Donald Trump has done literally so many crimes that when the news first broke, everyone was like "but in relation to which crime though?" It now has been confirmed that the raid was about the 15 boxes of top-secret documents that Trump stole from the White House and took to Mar-a-Lago with him. The salient points to appreciate are therefore these:

Federal law does not fuck around with the penalties for mishandling classified information and/or presidential records (all of which are required to be preserved and turned over to the National Archives, even if they aren't literal top-secret classified intelligence). If Trump is convicted of this, one of the penalties includes... being barred from holding federal office ever again. If it turns out that he was selling secrets to foreign actors, such as, say, Russia or Saudi Arabia, both of which the Trump crime family has close ties with, the penalty is LIFE IMPRISONMENT OR DEATH. As I said. Does not fuck around. Either way, Trumpie got (let us fucking hope) a lot of pain coming.

The amount of evidence that it takes for a federal judge to sign off on a warrant for a no-knock raid is... a lot. The same but for a FORMER PRESIDENT? Yeah. It's a lot.

This also required the personal approval of both AG Merrick Garland and FBI director Christopher Wray. Wray is a lifelong Republican appointed by... you guessed it, Trump, after he fired James Comey in an attempt to obstruct the Russia investigation.

Pause for sad trombone noise.

Also, this proves that Garland is in fact willing to authorize operations that target Trump directly, which means that, hopefully, he isn't afraid to charge Trump in connection with January 6.

The amount of right wing whining and crying about the pOlitciZeD jUsTICe dEpARtMenT!!!!1 is, predictably but depressingly, absolutely insane. Once again, consequences are something that are only supposed to happen to somebody else. Even if the guy in question literally tried to use the Justice Department to launch a coup to illegally stay in power and destroy American democracy. FAKE NEWS!!!

Objectively, "they even broke into my safe!" is absolutely fucking hilarious. As was the Anonymous Source (let's be real, probably Donnie Jr.) who complained that the FBI guys just grabbed boxes and documents without "going through them properly." WHAT DO YOU ORANGE FUCKFACE TWATWAFFLES THINK A RAID BY THE FBI ACTUALLY IS??? THAT THEY JUST STAND THERE AND ASK NICELY TO ONLY LOOK AT WHAT YOU'RE WILLING TO SHOW THEM???

In conclusion, the "Lock Up Hillary Clinton For Mishandling Her Private Emails!!!" crowd suddenly isn't super fond of an ex-federal official getting locked up for mishandling top-secret documents.

Weird.

#anonymous #ask #politics for ts

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spacedace · 1 year

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Yo here have this dp x dc snippet from ages ago I forgot I wrote until I found it just now lol:

Joker had died just after sunset, when darkness had settled fully on Gotham. Beaten horribly with a blunt, metal object of sickeningly familiar description, then finally killed in the concussive force of an explosion from the various bombs the warehouse had been filled with.

It felt obvious who it had to be.

Except, of course, that Dick was looking at cctv footage and official court documents showing just how fucking impossible it was for Jason to have finally taken the clown out for good.

At the time everything had to have happened his little brother was across the city, in a public place, with official witnesses.

Official, official witnesses. They - one Margaret Tinsel - had signed their name as such, right next to their notary stamp and the date on the marriage license.

Marriage License.

Because Jay had been over at the courthouse next to city hall getting married.

Dick only found out he’d been dating Jasmine Nightingale a couple of weeks ago. He hadn’t even properly met her yet, just saw her from the roof across the street as she and Jay sat on her fire escape sharing a pint of ice cream, laughing and looking stupidly adorable and smitten with each other. And now they’re married.

How in the fuck was he going to explain this? Bruce was already spiraling on the idea that Jay had killed Joker, he’d want specific details on just how tight of an alibi Jason had for the crime. He’d want to see that proof himself.

And then he’d want to talk to Jay. Who hadn’t told any of them what the fuck was going on in his personal life. Who had very purposefully tried to keep Jasmine Nightingale - shit, no she applied for a name change, they both had, they were both Nightingale-Todd now - away from the family and their meddling.

Babs on the other end of the line seemed to share his utter loss over the situation.

“I did some digging.” She said, drawn out enough to let him know that whatever she found - while not bad - sure as shit wasn’t going to make things any easier to explain. “They’ve uh…as best I can tell, they’ve been dating for about three years now.”

Three years.

Jesus Christ. How in the hell is he going to break that news? Did he even break that news? That’s something that Jay should do.

Except Jay just got married less than two hours ago at the same time the Joker was violently - and karmically satisfyingly - murdered and there was absolutely no way that letting Bruce go over there to talk to Jay while all Batman-ed up was going to lead to anything but a fight, which means that he has to break that news or else Jay and his new wife - his wife holy fucking shit - are going to have to deal with a pissed off Batman on their honeymoon and -

“Oh.” Tim said from where he’d come to stand at Dick’s shoulder at some point during his internal freak out. “I guess they decided to do the courthouse thing after all.”

The train wreck of Dick’s thought process, at that point, entirely exploded.

#dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #batman #jazz fenton #jason todd #dick grayson #barbara gordon #the joker #anger management #anger management ship #dp x dc anger management #tim drake #poor Dick is just having a *time* with all of this #How does Tim know?#Dating Danny & has the inside scoop?#Just knows everything about the personal lives of his family because stalking is his love language?#Was just a really damn good detective & thought everyone else also knew?#combination of all the above?#who knows!#Major perk of dating/marrying the adopted daughter of the Ancient of time is that as long as kt doesn’t risk the timeline #Clockwork will totally let you time travel so you can kill that mother fucking evil clown while having the most solid alibi ever #(Danny & Jazz helped along with like half the ghosts in Gotham because Joker was the cause of SO MANY deaths)#batfam

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genshin-impact-updates · 5 months

Text

Artifact Management and Enhancement Screen Optimizations Are Here~ | Developers Discussion - 12/06

Hello, Travelers~

In Version 4.3, we will implement a series of system optimizations in the game. We will be introducing some of these in this Developers Discussion. Let's take a look together~

〓Archon Quest "Requiem of the Echoing Depths" Unlinked From World Quest〓

To ensure that Travelers have a smoother experience with the Archon Quest, from Version 4.3 onwards, "The Chasm Delvers" quest series will no longer be prerequisites for this Archon Quest. When you reach the objective "Enter The Chasm: Underground Mines" in the Archon Quest "In the Depths, an Unexpected Reunion," a Teleport Waypoint will be automatically unlocked in The Chasm: Underground Mines so you can continue with the Archon Quest.

The Archon Quest "Requiem of the Echoing Depths" requires Travelers to head to The Chasm: Underground Mines, but this location will be locked until Travelers have completed the corresponding World Quest that allows them to enter and continue pursuing the Archon Quest.

〓One-Click Features〓

▌Dispatching Characters on Expeditions

One-Click Expeditions will become available in Version 4.3. This will allow Travelers to claim Expedition Rewards with a single click, as well as repeat expeditions with a single click.

(This is under development and is not indicative of the final product.)

▌Ingredient Processing and Forging Screens

Aside from expeditions, you will also be able to claim processed ingredients and forged items that have been completed with a single click in Version 4.3.

▌Mystic Offering

When performing Mystic Offerings at Crafting Benches, you'll now be able to add multiple Artifacts in batches with a single click.

In future versions, you'll also be able to claim created Furnishings from the Creation Screen in the Serenitea Pot with a single click.

〓Optimized Artifact Management〓

As the journey goes on, the number of Artifact Sets you can collect will continue to increase. To help Travelers quickly find and manage Artifacts, a significant optimization has been made to the Artifacts filter function.

Automatic Locking and Quick Unlock functions have been added to the Inventory > Artifacts screen. Travelers can use these to automatically lock and unlock Artifacts according to the requirements they set.

(This is under development and is not indicative of the final product.)

Additionally, as a reference to help Travelers when choosing Artifacts, recommended Artifact set information based on recently active players will now be shown on characters' Artifacts screens.

For more details about Artifact management optimizations, please stay tuned for future official descriptions.

〓Optimized Enhancement Screens〓

In the current version of the game, when Travelers level up characters or enhance Weapons and Artifacts, a pop-up appears showing how the corresponding values changed before and after enhancement. In Version 4.3, enhancement information will be integrated into the original screen instead. This will make the enhancement experience smoother for Travelers by getting rid of the frequent pop-ups.

Apart from integrating enhancement information, there will also be some small targeted optimizations on these screens:

▌Character Level-Up Screen

(This is under development and is not indicative of the final product.)

The speed of interface special effects related to leveling up characters has been increased, and you can now use Auto Add to add sufficient Character EXP Materials to get the character up to the highest level they can reach before Ascension with a single click.

▌Artifact Enhancement Screen

(This is under development and is not indicative of the final product.)

Other optimizations:

1. You can now consume up to 15 items per time when enhancing Artifacts.

2. Added the "Enhance to Next Tier" function. Once activated, when there are still open slots to add Enhancement Materials but this action will already cause the Artifact to reach Level 4/8/12/16, no more additional Enhancement Materials will be automatically added.

3. In Settings > Other, you can choose whether or not 5-Star Artifacts can be auto-added as Enhancement Materials.

Combined with the Automatic Locking function mentioned above, we hope that these changes will make managing 5-star Artifacts more convenient for Travelers.

▌Weapon Enhancement Screen

(This is under development and is not indicative of the final product.)

You can now consume up to 40 items per time when enhancing Weapons on, and select multiple materials when refining Weapons.

We hope that these optimizations make the enhancement experience smoother for Travelers.

〓Character Reload Spot When Challenging Domains Repeatedly〓

In Version 4.3, after entering the Domain or if you continue to challenge the Domain after claiming rewards, characters will reload nearer to the Domain challenge location. This means you won't have to run over from the Domain entrance to this location again.

(This is under development and is not indicative of the final product.)

〓Other Optimizations〓

To improve your gaming experience, some other optimizations will be implemented in Version 4.3. These include:

1. The way enemy avatars display in Adventurer Handbook: Enemies will be adjusted to help you find them. Also, you can now select "Cancel Navigation" on this screen to stop navigating towards the corresponding enemy on the map.

2. On the various creation screens (Crafting/Cooking/Forging/Create Furnishing), if there are no selected character records on the Traveler's device, the first character that can provide a bonus when creating the selected item will be chosen by default.

3. On the map screen, you'll now be able to check bosses' current remaining respawn times by clicking their avatars.

(This is under development and is not indicative of the final product.)

And that's all for this Developers Discussion. We'll have more information about new version content and optimizations for you in the future, so please stay tuned for further official announcements. If you have any thoughts or feedback, feel free to send them to us through the various channels within and outside of the game~

#genshin impact #genshin impact updates #genshin impact news #official #developers discussion #yesss YESSSSSSS #also sorry if these gifs kill your phone the way they're killing mine

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moonit3 · 1 month

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How about a Yandere! Monster Mimic, where falling in love with a human reader...

(The mimic is a shapeshifting monster that can transform into an object or anyone it has seen, of course it can revert to its true amorphous form if it wants to.)

another non-human of for my blog? yes, please.

MY NON-HUMAN HUSBAND IS PERFECT!

➽ context warnings: male! yandere but he can shapeshift, fluffy content, gn! reader, mentioned cheating but nothing happening, also there isn’t much warning in this one.

➽ word count: 1.8k

➽ synopsis: your monster husband is the best thing to ever happen to you and there is no way you could forget him for that.

➽ yandere! mimic monster x gn! reader

➽ a/n: so you know when shows/anime have small segments inside the same episode (like saiki kusuo and the way of a househusband)? if the answer is yes, then i can tell you that i have write this since i watch them recently and got in the mood for something different compared to my past works. also, shot out to me if there is any mistaken down here!

tv show!

a soup opera is at the tv and smash can’t take his eyes off the screen, not even hearing you calling him to eat. instead, he just keep changing his appearance every time a new actor show up at the scene.

“nash!” you called him, but falling to gain his attention when he doesn’t even bet an eye at you. “it’s time for dinner, remember?”

no answer, he keep watching the tv on his own as the show continues to show the leads going to a wedding between another characters. the humanoid creature returned to his original form when seeing the groom and the bride kissing each other at the altar, afterwards he turn to see you and it was easy to understand what he wants to learn about the scene.

“to make the marriage officially end, the groom and the bride have to kiss each other after promising to spend their lifes together.” you replied. “but something they don’t work together and split up after. it’s common to happen, just like it happened to my uncle and aunt.”

he nodded, taking your words to consideration before going back to watch the soup opera, but this time with a bowl of rice that he began devouring without hesitation. nash always acts like he hasn’t eaten in days, when in fact, he had breakfast and lunch not long ago.

decided that you won’t dry the dishes for now, you took a place next to nash on the couch, watching the tv with him in silence. without taking his many pairs of eyes of the screen, he pulls you closer by his crawl, making you rest your head at his arm.

a smile grown on your lips when he does that, not only that makes you feel safer, but also relaxes your mind. it’s a sweet reminder that nash cares about you, even though he never spoken a word to you and the fact of him being whatever he is doesn’t change how much you care about him.

the cat

it already the third time that nash ended with his face full of cuts and bruises after another failed attempt of petting the stray cat that comes around home. you would be laughing if the whole event wasn’t sad, well at least, to his eyes.

“don’t cry, baby.” the sniff coming from the creature has become a common scene since the first time the stray cat has visited you and the cat always left after making nash’s face their newest canvas. “i’m sure that one day, the stray will become more docile and let you pet their fur. maybe even entering our house to sleep with us.”

he continues to sob regardless of yours words, but he remains still under your care when applying another band aid to his face. it’s a unique scene to have a two meter creature full of colorful band aids on his face, like he has been a victim of children’s drawing.

after you finished taking care of him, nash move away from your touch and made his way out towards outside the cabin, where he began sunbathing and stare out into the sky. to make sure he won’t get in trouble, you took a seat at the couch from the front porch, watching nash resting the sun and not giving much thought to the the wild animals that live around the cabin.

the breeze hitting your body makes you drowsy and your eyes can’t hold much longer, not after working hours and hours to fix the roof before the winter comes around. a yawn escapes your lips before you start feeling tired and your mind begging you to fall asleep after working long hours, but another side of you is forcing your mind to stay awake to spend more time with nash. and speaking of him, the monster approaches you with something in his arms.

“what it is, nash? another worm or grasshopper?” you asked, but seeing his smile reaching both of his ears confirms that it’s something even better. “show me.”

and he does. in his arms rests the stray cat that has been visiting the cabin for the past few weeks, but today it seems friendly, showing no signs of aggression towards nash as it usually does. because of that, he looks happier with the cat peacefully sleeping in his arms like a baby.

the scene itself is an adorable one, something that could easily come out from a kids’ shows and you could smile at nash for finally befriending the cat. your husband look so happy when snuggling the small animal, almost like he wasn’t crying just moments ago from being rejected from said animal.

the smile on your face grown more on your lips when you patted the stray cat, seeing the tiny animal enjoying being on nash’s laps only made you relaxed more, specially when he sat next to you to let you pat the cat even more.

“do you want to keep it?” he nodded, enthusiastic about the idea. “then, we should get a few things for the little one tomorrow when going to the town. got it?” he nodded again.

another yawn came out of your lips, making nash ware of your tiredness and he adjusted your head to be the one laying on his shoulder. even with your eyes closing, you can feel his form shape into a soft fur that makes you wonder if he knows that you love when he does that.

“im going to take a nap, wake me up in a hour or so…” and with that, you began dreaming on nash’s shoulder and he couldn’t be happier to have you by one side and the cat in the other side of his arm. the two most important things to him in the same place.

the old lady and the store

“i know your secret, young blood.”

your eyes widen open when the old lady’s words reached your ears, it’s only seven in the morning and there is already a problem that you need to solve...did nash got in another trouble with the town people? you hope not.

“my secret?” you played like you didn’t know what she is talking about, pretending to be a fool is an easy job for you. “i think you are mistaken, lady. i am nothing, but a mere normal hunter that lives in the woods.”

she didn’t buy your words, not when a grin suddenly emerged at her thin lips, you could already guess the many words that she would say about nash and you can imagine how the townspeople will hunt down nash. however, you stood quiet in front of the balcony, pretending to be a normal hunter while the old lady just stared at you.

“don’t play the idiot, kid.” she got up from her seat, even being shorter than you, the lady knows how to make her presence known and scary. “i know that young hunters like you always have your dirty secrets inside those wooden cabin.”

you only stared at her, not saying any words as she walked closer to you to take a better look at how shaken you have gotten with her intimidation. it’s hilarious that a hunter would be a the mercy of an old widow lady like her, one that barely hits your shoulder, the others would laugh at this scene.

“tell me, young blood.” her voice is now like a thunder stomping inside your head. there is no other clients at the store, so she didn’t need to low her voice at you. “how many people are you sleeping with?”

…

….

“excuse me? i-i am not sleeping around!”

the old lady laughed at your reaction, not caring if her loudness would reach outside the market, everyone of the town knows better than spying at her. it’s clear to those who could hear outside that you have become her newest victim to her attention and curiosity.

“please, kid.” she patted your shoulder when returning to her seat behind the balcony, this time with the biggest smile you ever saw at her lips. “i know everything about everyone at this small place and i know that you have been *hanging out* around with different people by every week that you comes to the town to sell your goods.”

“you are mistaken, lady!” you tried to make her rethink about the subject, but you quickly realized that she won’t hear you, not when she already looks absolutely certain about your ‘affairs’.

“don’t worry, kid. i won’t tell your husband about it.” she winked, giving you an even big smile when referring about your so called ‘partner’. “after all, i was just like you during my young days. full of beauty and grace, ready to make anyone fall to my feet and trust me, i was good at it~”

her rambling gains an extra awkwardness when you remember that nash did took many humans forms when coming to the town for the past months with you. he would often take different appearances when accompanying you, sometimes he would resemble a bombshell girl from those old magazines or maybe a good looking man from those old spies movies that you often caught him watching instead of sleeping.

well, at the bright side of this situation. the old lady believes you are sleeping around, not that you share the house with someone not human…so things are going good for you, right?

“that’s nice to hear, lady.” your lips curves into an nervous smile when she hands the products and that you quickly put inside your bag, wanting to leave fast as possible. “but i got to go, you know, to meet one of my ‘contacts’.”

she stares at you, again with her classic smile that reaches both of her eyes, “don’t forget to tell me about it when you come back to shop!” and with that, you finally leave the market with your bag full of stuff for the incoming winter.

the path back home was a peaceful one, no wild animals has tried to approach you and the rain didn’t start yet, so nothing has happened during your walk. once you have arrived at the cabin, nash welcomed you with open arms and brought you to a hug and began acting so happy, like you haven’t seen him in years.

nash brings you inside the cabin to show that he didn’t mess with anything during your absence nor has the cat destroyed the interior like you would expected, the small feline is still asleep in the same place you saw before going to the town. showing that he did succeed with his goals, nash helped you organize the things you’ve brought around the house.

it’s always a nice view seeing him becoming taller than you to organize the higher shelves of the kitchen and the storage room. thanks to him, you don’t need to bring the ladder from the basement. and with his assistance, the two of you arranged the foods rapidly and efficiently, leaving time to the two of you relax for the rest of the day.

@moonit3 writings

#yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere writing #yandere male #yandere x gender neutral reader #yandere x gn reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x gender neutral y/n #x gender neutral reader #gender neutral insert #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #my oc nash #➥·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳ moon writings

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diana-rose-25 · 6 months

Text

— Let's Dance

PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3

Style Inspiration

pairing/s: BEBE! Bada Lee x Jam Republic! Reader x Wolf'Lo! Chocol

warnings: None so far, an unrealistic description of being an exchange foreign student, might confuse some words in ballet (as most of them are only through research and not based on experience).

description: A professional ballet dancer in Street Woman Fighter Season 2? (Y/N) Bae, a 23-year-old ballet and dance prodigy enters the fighting arena alongside the infamously known crew, Jam Republic. Making the team's aura far more intimidating despite being clad in soft pink and white clothing, adorned with astonished faces and friendly smiles. As the young woman entered the arena with curious eyes and small smile, the other teams couldn't help but awe at her beauty and elegant aura, unknowingly capturing the eyes of two charismatic dancers.

word count: 9.3k

status: unedited

now listening to:

"Monika, our fight judge. What will be your criteria today?" Kang Daniel, the host, asked Monika once the commotion has died down.

"Honestly, some of the dance leaders here have been a dance contest judge for a long time. So, I dare say, I'll be cruelly objective and consider only what I see here. I won't consider my seniors' achievements in the past but only by result."

Shownu followed up next. “Based on what I’ve learned in my music career, and my sincere love for this show, I’ll evaluate your dance honestly.”

“Everybody in here is a professional. I don’t need to tell you that, and it’s going to be whoever’s day it is today. I have much respect for all of you guys. I’ll do my best to be a perfect judge for you today.” Mike Song concluded.

(Y/N) nodded and clapped in appreciation. The fact that the judges said their objectives loudly and unapologetically made her breathe a sigh of relief. Especially since her senior and former teacher, Baby Sleek, is a participant of this competition. In her mind, and mostly the minds of the others, Baby Sleek is untouchable on the dance floor.

Her heart dropped at the thought of battling one-on-one with her former teacher. She is confident in her skills and talent on the dance floor, but facing off against Baby Sleek – she’ll be lucky if she even gets one vote from the judges. Everything she learned about freestyle dancing and hip hop stems from her.

The final person to be introduced was none other than DJ SOM before the rules of the challenge were explained. Each dancer will be given 40 seconds to dance. When it’s over, the judges will hold up their cards to decide the winner. But if two or more judges ask for a rematch, the two dancers will dance at the same time to determine the winner. According to the results, the crew will get a chip to put it on the crew board and count the wins and losses.

“No Respect, Battle with the Weakest Dancer. We’ll begin Round One!” The room burst into cheers once again when Kang Daniel announced the official start of the battle.

(Y/N) held up her interlinked hands with Ling and Emma as she cheered and stomped her feet in excitement. “Let’s go!”

“Oh my gosh, it’s starting!” Ling exclaimed, turning from side to side to warm up her body.

“I’m so nervous right now,” Emma admitted and leaned against (Y/N). The older girl giggled at her team mate and wrapped her arm around her. Running her hand up and down against the younger one’s arm to soothe her nerves.

“I know! Me too, but this is all so exciting!”

“Easy for you to say,” Ling nudged her. “You’re the most experienced freestyle battler in here other than Emma.”

“That doesn’t make it any less nerve-wrecking, Ling.” She nudged the girl back and squeezed her hand. They turned their attention back to the MC as he’s about to announce who will open the first dance battle of the season. “Who do you think it’s going to be?”

(Y/N) shrugged, “I don’t know. Hopefully they start out the season with a bang.”

“The first dancer for the first battle is…”

Jam Republic leaned in their seats in anticipation, holding their breath for as long as Kang Daniel trailed off. Hearts throbbing against their chest.

“From 1MILLION, Redy.” The 1MILLION crew immediately stands up from their seat to cheer their fellow member on. A tall girl clad in white cap, white long-sleeved clothing, and dark jeans stands up and makes her way down the seats.

From what (Y/N) could recall from the evaluation, Redy started dancing at 16 years old with a unique style. To her surprise, Redy was older than her by 2 years despite looking so young.

“I wonder who her No Respect Dancer is,” (Y/N) thought as she leaned back in her seat. “Do you think it’s one of us?”

“Doubt it,” answered Emma. “she might pick someone whose style is completely different from her. Or pick someone she has a bad blood with, it’s not uncommon.”

(Y/N) hummed in agreement, feeling her body relax. What Emma said earlier was true, it isn’t uncommon when it comes to dance offs. Some people tend to choose their opponents based on their past. Personally, she finds the means distasteful and unprofessional; but, it can’t be helped. She, herself, had experienced to being picked for the same reason when she was on competitions.

“If she picks someone she has beef with, do you think she’ll give us a good fight or not?” Emma shook her head in response.

“Probably not, it’s usually not a good idea to pick someone from the past. Emotions and tensions could rise and get in the way of a good freestyle.”

“That’s true,” (Y/N) nodded as she watches Redy walk in front to the center of the arena with a microphone between her hands.

As Redy started to speak, she walked towards the space of Wolf’Lo, surprising them and (Y/N). “Oh my gosh is she picking one of them?” The girl held her hand up to her mouth in shock when the girl clad in white continued to walk towards the orange team.

“The No Respect Dancer, I choose…” Redy trailed off once again and (Y/N) couldn’t help but smile at her braveness if she ever picks one of the dancer from Wolf’Lo.

She then turned to the other way, making (Y/N) puff out her cheeks in disappointment. As heavy as the tension is right now, one member of Wolf’Lo couldn’t help but grin at her adorable (from what she noticed so far) mannerisms.

Jam Republic watches as Redy takes a u turn and walks to the other side of the arena as she announces who her No Respect Dancer is, “it’s Bada of BEBE.”

The arena erupted in cheers. (Y/N) shoots up from her seat with a squeal and watches as Bada nods her head and stands up, flipping the bottled water in her hand as she did so.

“That was so cool,” she whispered with a quiet, girlish giggle. Ling and Emma laughed at their team member and joined her as she stands up, wanting to see the commotion clearly.

“Bada isn’t even dancing yet,” Ling teased to which (Y/N) just hushed her.

“She’s the famous, trendy choreographer right?” The ballet dancer nodded to Emma’s question.

“Her strongest link is making choreographies. Most popular K-pop dances was made by her. Since she’s more known for her choreographed works, I’m excited to see her freestyle.”

The two dancers began pacing around in the dance floor. There was a noticeable heavy tension in the air as they both prepare for the fight. Everyone is talking about their past, making the atmosphere heavier than it already was.

“Redy of 1MILLION, you chose Bada of BEBE as your No Respect Dancer.” Kang Daniel started.

“I don’t respect you, that’s it.” Redy stated bluntly. Bada placed a hand to her ear as she talks, mockingly insinuating that she’s listening closely to what she says. The room erupted in cheers, even judge Mike has his jaw on the floor.

“Not Redy, Soo Bin!” Bada exclaimed, using Redy’s real name. “You’re still an eight-grader to me.”

(Y/N)’s eyes widened at the drama that was unfolding right in front of her, wishing she has something she can chew or sip on as she watches their back and forth. A shocked laugh escaped her mouth when Bada called her an eight-grader.

“Wait, what did she say?” Ling questions when her ear piece stops working momentarily, unable to catch the insult Bada threw at her opponent. Her expression turned to shock immediately after (Y/N) translated it to her. “Oh, damn. She’s a gangster right?”

“Yeah,” Latrice said, “I like her energy.”

Jam Republic laughs as Redy mimicked a baby by placing her thumb to between her lips. (Y/N) claps her hands in excitement as Kang Daniel announces the first attack to be made by Redy followed by Bada.

“Let’s go!” She shouts, bouncing on her toes.

“The two dancers’ battle begins now. You guys ready?!” (Y/N) claps even harder when she heard the infamous line. “Fight!”

Music filled the arena and the lights dimmed, the 40 second timer appeared on the huge screen and all dancers are hyped to watch the fight. The first beats of the music started and Redy started grooving into the music, her members cheering her on from behind her.

(Y/N) watched with keen eyes as Redy danced. The older girl was flexible, that’s for sure, and she is hitting the beats. Redy’s style was certainly unique. However, in her opinion, it lacks in any form of wow factor.

She still cheered and clapped her hands afterwards and the music switched, signalling Bada’s turn. Her voice increased in volume when Bada spins and comes up to Redy’s face, standing tall to enunciate their height difference without the use of words.

“I hate it when people use their height!” She giggled when she heard Chocol whined.

“Oh my gosh!”

“Oh my gosh, she’s so tall!” Ling and (Y/N) exclaimed at the same time. The latter girl hides her face in her hand, parting her fingers so she can still see the battle as she feels them become hot. Their eyes momentarily meets for a second and she swore the corners of Bada’s lips curved up for a second.

The eye contact didn’t last long when Bada suddenly swats the air on the top of Redy’s head. (Y/N)’s eyes stayed glued to Bada’s dancing, mesmerized at the clean and sharp moves she does. She couldn’t help but cheer at the way Bada hits each beat of the music and the way she grooves. Bada’s time comes to an end as she spits the piece of paper in her mouth. The room erupted in cheers and claps and at the end of the battle.

“What the heck,” Ling said in astonishment as they sit back down.

“That was so good,” (Y/N) said. “A great battle to start off the season.”

Everyone returned to their respective seats as Redy, Bada, and Kang Daniel stands at the center for the announcement of the results. When the cards flipped, 3 blue cards appeared at the judge’s hands.

Team BEBE cheered as they secured their first win, and Bada certainly secured a title for herself as one of the most talented and skilled individuals of the show. The dancers returned to their seats as the judges tells their thoughts about the battle.

“I was impressed by both of you,” Shownu started, “Redy of 1MILLION shocked me. But, I reckon that Bada’s move suited the song more and she was more relaxed.”

“I’ll be honest to help you improve, you’re still and eighth-grader even from my point of view.” Emma, Ling, and (Y/N)’s mouth parted in shock at Monika’s comment, feeling bad for the 1MILLION dancer. “But, Bada is certainly out of this league.”

“Damn,” was (Y/N)’s only comment – watching as BEBE place their first chip on the win score board and Bada attach the chip on the lose side of 1MILLION’s board.

⁽⁠⁽⁠ଘ⁠(⁠ ⁠ˊ⁠ᵕ⁠ˋ⁠ ⁠)⁠ଓ⁠⁾⁠⁾

A short break was conducted after the first battle between Bada and Redy. Jam Republic sat around in a circle as they debriefed about the event earlier. As they talked however, (Y/N) couldn’t help but point out the several eyes that is currently looking in their direction. More specifically:

“You got a lot of eyes on you Kirsten,” she whispered towards her leader. “Not just the dancers, but the judges as well.”

“Really?” Kirsten smiles before she looks around. Sure enough, there were several dancers looking at her direction, even Monika and Shownu.

The rest of the team giggled when Kirsten smiled giddily at them, feeling a burst in her confidence.

“I think they’re looking forward to see you dance,” Latrice tapped her shoulders. They returned to their original positions when Kang Daniel came back to the center.

“The next dancer to participate in the one-on-one battle is,” he pauses for dramatic effect. “Jam Republic’s Kirsten!”

The room once again erupted in cheers and claps as the most anticipated dancer of the season smiles and makes her way towards the middle.

“Hello,” the leader greeted with a chuckle. “No Respect Dancer that I would like to defeat…”

As she trailed off, the dancers’ eyes shift from side-to-side in anticipation with a touch of agitation and intimidation. They could feel Kirsten’s intimidation aura, and most of them are terrified at the thought of going one-on-one with her.

“Waackxxxy.” She said, gesturing to the said dancer who grinned from her seat.

The teams and even Monika acclaims in delight as they are about to witness a great battle between two, strong dancers.

From the evaluation, Waackxxxy is a phenomenal dancer with powerful moves and an unmatched energy. Kirsten immediately picked her as her No Respect Dancer to push herself. Jam Republic and Mannequeen members stands behind their respective dancer who will compete on one-on-one.

“When I watched the video, you were world-class and I would love to take you on. Let’s Battle.” Waackxxxy nodded her head in appreciation. The other dancers and Monika praised Kirsten for her admirable action to take on a strong battler.

“Thank you so much for liking my video and class, but, I’ll show you my dance. Okay, let’s go.” (Y/N) clasped her hands in front of her and rests her chin on top of it, hyped for the battle between her leader and the well-known international dancer, Waackxxxy.

“Let’s go Kirsten!” She cheered.

“The world-class choreographer and the world-class waacking dancer. The battle of the two dancer begins now. You guys ready? Fight!”

The DJ starts the music and Waackxxxy of Mannequeen goes first. From the get-go, everyone could see the charisma and the reason why Waackxxxy is considered as a world-class battler. Her body control and energy is so insane that Jam Republic couldn’t help but also hype her up.

Waackxxxy ended her time with a strong side-eye on Kirsten’s direction. When the switch was announced, (Y/N) started jumping up and down as she cheered loudly for her leader.

“Come on, Kirsten! Bring it!” Latrice yelled.

The screams increased when Kirsten and Waackxxxy circled each other, following the beat of the music.

“That was fu- insane!” Ling and Latrice laughed hysterically when a curse word almost escaped (Y/N)’s mouth.

Jam Republic continued to cheer their leader on as the battle went on. (Y/N) was so hyped that she slipped and lost her footing momentarily. Luckily, someone immediately stabilizes her before she could fall.

(Y/N) looks up to thank the person who caught her, only to blush brightly as her eyes met Bada’s shadow-covered eyes and a concerned face.

“Are you okay?” Bada asked, still holding onto her elbow.

She hummed and flashed her a grin. “Mhm, thank you!”

They stared at each other for a few moments with a small smile and blush dusting their faces without saying a word. It’s as if it was just the two of them in the room together as the noises seem to quiet down, fading into the background.

(Y/N) snapped out of it when Kang Daniel announced the end of the battle, immediately turn to find Kirsten walking towards their side. She thanks Bada one last time before rushing to her leader’s side to congratulate her for the amazing battle.

Bada remained standing there, running her hand on the back of her nape to will her pounding heart to calm down. A grin makes it way to her face as she returns to her seat, not noticing Lusher who saw the whole interaction and is hiding a smile behind her hand. Making a mental note to tease her leader about it later.

The judges showed their cards. Monika and Mike holds both cards for Jam Republic and Mannequeen, signalling a rematch between both dancers.

The rematch starts and both dancers still held their ground as they showed two variation of dance style. It ended up with another rematch when Monika showed 2 cards, much to the surprise of everyone.

“I can only choose one?” She asked exasperatedly, clearly in distress to choose between the two when Kang Daniel nodded and held up one finger. “That’s insane. I can’t do that!”

“Whoever you pick will be the winner. The victory lies in your hands.”

(Y/N) feels her heart pound against her chest, holding her clasped hands against her and prayed for Jam Republic’s first win. “Please, please, please, please.” She muttered underneath her breath.

“Here I go,” Monika concluded. The count down started until finally, she held up a pink card.

Kirsten cemented Jam Republic’s first win.

Jam Republic cheered while Mannequeen slumped their shoulder in dejection.

“Great job, Kirsten!” (Y/N) cheered as she gave Kirsten a side hug and a grin.

“That was insane!”

“Good job!” They praised their leader.

Across the room, Waackxxxy is visibly enraged and disappointed with the results of the battle.

“In this last round, both dancers were at the same level.” Mike Song stated. “But Kirsten grabbed my attention a little more.”

“That was such a great battle. It was so energizing. The reason I chose Kirsten at the end, was that she made the song come alive a bit more and I weighed that more importantly. Rather than being too serious, I had no choice but to give it to the person expressing the song. That’s why I hope you understand my decision. Although it was a very difficult one.” Monika concluded.

(Y/N) clapped enthusiastically as Kirsten place a winning chip on their score board. That happiness didn’t last long however, when Kang Daniel announced the next opponent. Another member of Mannequeen, Yoonji.

From the dancer’s expression, the anger was obvious from the way stomped down the seats and towards the middle.

“I’m so scared,” Ling said and Emma agreed.

“She seems crazy.” The younger one replied, feeling on edge because of Yoonji’s attitude.

(Y/N) sits stiffly on her seat, eyes narrowed and feels goosebumps crawl up her arms and neck. “She looks like she’s plotting revenge,” she stated lowly.

They watch as Yoonji paced around back and forth in agitation.

“I’m very angry right now,” she confessed, still pacing around. “Mannequeen has come here as the crew known to be the strongest in battles. I think it’s time we showed that.”

(Y/N) smirked at her insinuation, finding it a tad difficult to believe since Baby Sleek and her crew is also a part of this competition.

“I’ve said this already, but who’s the one chewing up and spitting out battles lately?” Yoonji said, making a beeline towards 1MILLION and standing in front of Lia Kim.

“This battle. I can show you later.” (Y/N) let out a sharp laugh when Yoonji left Lia Kim alone as soon as she got there. She’s certainly entertaining.

“Kirsten, come out girl,” Yoonji suddenly stated quite forcefully as she gestured Kirsten to come out. The woman mentioned gave a small smile to Yoonji as she stands up and place her jacket on her sear.

(Y/N) couldn’t help but tilt her head to the side and bit her bottom lip in annoyance, feeling rather protective of her leader.

“I’m going to take revenge for my sister. Come out, girl!”

(Y/N) huffed as she immediately followed her leader and stand 2 feet directly behind her, eyes narrowed and focused on Yoonji. The other members of Jam Republic soon followed with nervous smiles on their faces, but the latter members face was devoid of any emotion.

“I’m going to show you who is the hottest girl in South Korea!” Yoonji exclaimed as her crew cheered her on. “You know, girl? I’m going to show you.”

When (Y/N) saw Yoonji walk towards Kirsten and got near her face, a small smile graced her lips – devoid of any humour, as she too walked towards Kirsten, standing directly behind her and held her elbow. She stands tall in front of Yoonji and looks down at her, taking inspiration from Bada Lee and uses her height for advantage, to which Team BEBE squealed.

The other crew also howled in astonishment as she did so.

“Bada-unnie you influenced her already?!” Tatter exclaimed as she shakes her leader’s arm back and forth.

“What is it with tall people and comparing heights?! I’m so jealous right now!” Bada laughs as her members whined. She leaned forward in her seat with her hands clasped together, feeling oddly satisfied with the way (Y/N) seemed to copy her move.

While Kirsten nodded gracefully at her opponent, (Y/N) snickers when Yoonji’s gaze flickered upon her for a moment before going back to the other side where her crew is.

(Y/N) slightly pulled Kirsten back and leans down to whisper in her ear, “you okay?”

Kirsten, not the slightest bit intimidated, just nodded at her with a grin. “Word, she says ass fat.” The taller girl laughed at her leader when she stuck her tongue out.

“(Y/N) is so scary now!”

“She’s giving off protective older sibling vibes oh my gosh!” Mina Myoung exclaimed, watching as (Y/N) now jokes along with the other members. “Look at how she switches! She’s back to being all smiley now!”

“What were you teaching her Baby Sleek?!” Haechi asked after witnessing it. The older girl said nothing but gave her a shrugged shoulder and a proud smile.

Chocol said nothing but continues to watch with a small smirk, loving the feisty and protective attitude of the taller girl of the pink team. Hoping that after the show, she’ll come running to Baby Sleek so she can have an excuse to finally introduce herself.

Or maybe, she’ll have the chance to introduce herself on the dance floor. Maybe flirt a little as well.

“I’m going to show you who is the queen!” Mannequeen cheered as Yoonji yelled before mocking the moves of Kirsten earlier by swaying her hips from side-to-side. The yellow-team crew member gives her a side-eye, looking up at her up and down in a condescending manner.

Kirsten, unbothered, just smiled at her opponent. The same can’t be said towards her ballet dancer member who was seething in annoyance.

“I’m excited,” Kirsten started. “Let’s see. We’re here in Korea now, so, let’s see.”

The members of the crew once again stood behind their respective member competing. Yoonji and Kirsten paced around as they prepare themselves.

“We have Yoonji from Mannequeen going first.” Kang Daniel announced. Yoonji immediately went to the front and strike up a pose. “Jam Republic’s Kirsten will go in second.”

(Y/N) sat beside Latrice and Ling as the host began, “the next battle between these two dancers, are you guys ready?! Let’s go! Fight!”

Yoonji moves her body as the first beat of the music starts, starting off strong and fierce. (Y/N) bites her lip out of irritation when she mockingly hits Kirsten with her elbow, to the point where she almost believed it hits her leader when Kirsten played along.

The Mannequeen dancer ended her dance strong when she made her way towards where the judges are, much to the delight of everyone.

“She’s a great dancer, but I think she got a tad bit overemotional,” (Y/N) whispered towards Latrice as she claps after her performance. The latter girl nods in agreement before standing up in excitement when the host announces the switch, meaning, its Kirsten’s turn to perform.

(Y/N) bounces on her toes with a huge grin on her face as she watches her leader dance. Even more so when she dances around Yoonji’s figure without touching her, showing the immense amount of body control she has. Jam Republic watched with a face of impress and admiration, shouting in delight when Kirsten snaps her hips.

“That was insane!” She exclaimed once the battle ended. It wasn’t long before the judges showed the cards of the winning result of the battle.

And three yellow cards were faced.

Mannequeen cheers loudly for the victory while Jam Republic claps their hand. Sure, the battle didn’t end up in their favour, but it is understandable since Yoonji conveyed a lot through her dance.

Once the emotion of frustration simmered down, Yoonji shakes Kirsten’s hand with a smile and pulls her for a hug. Thanking her for the battle and saying I love you to her.

On their way to their seats, (Y/N) wrapped her arm around Kirsten’s shoulder and congratulated her, saying the same to Yoonji when they passed her by. Although the battle was intense and heated, there was no point in starting unwanted rivalry outside of the dance floor.

⁽⁠⁽⁠ଘ⁠(⁠ ⁠ˊ⁠ᵕ⁠ˋ⁠ ⁠)⁠ଓ⁠⁾⁠⁾

Another break was conducted after a few battles from Jam Republic and other teams. Emma, Latrice, Audrey, and Ling had already participated in their own respective battles. Ling battled against Cera which takes her by surprise, both of them had chosen her as their No Respect Dancer to push themselves. (Y/N) is the only Jam Republic member who have yet to battle anyone.

“(Y/N) has yet to dance, right?” A member from Deep N’ Dap says, looking at the direction of the Jam Republic who was talking animatedly with her team.

“Mhm, I’m really excited to see her dance though.” Another member responded.

However, the long wait is about to be over.

“The next challenger of the battle, Cera of Mannequeen.”

Howls and cheers rang through the arena, everyone had witnessed the intense and captivating performance of Cera earlier when she battled Ling. The member of Mannequeen adorned in her iconic green dress made her way towards the center with a smirk on her face, her members cheers as they follow closely behind her.

A mic was handed to her, the crowd became silent, and she walks around.

“The No Respect Dancer I chose to battle…” she trails off, making her way towards 1MILLION.

“From 1MILLION?” Mini questioned as she watches Cera stop right in front of the white team. The members looked up at her with their hearts on their throat, terrified of the idea that one of them has to face off against her.

“My No Respect Dancer…” she trails off again, but this time, she walks towards the next team. “Is Jam Republic’s (Y/N). Come on.”

Everyone’s lost their minds as Cera called out the Jam Republic dancer.

“Yehey!” Audrey cheered – shooting up from her seat with a bounce on her step.

“Wah! This is like the battle of the Prima Ballerina’s!” Harimu yelled from her stand.

(Y/N)’s cheeks puffed as it’s filled with water, Cera called her in the middle of her taking a sip, but she didn’t complain. It’s just hard for her to grin with all the water in her cheeks. Though, everyone can still see the joy in her eyes.

She gulped down everything and stands up with a clap, grinning from ear-to-ear as she bows in greeting to Cera, holding her hands against her chest. They make their way to the center of the arena with their team following closely behind them. The two dancers stand in between Kang Daniel, standing tall with microphones handed to each of them. She bows one more time towards Cera before standing tall with a smile on her face, excited to battle one of the strongest battlers in the show.

Her opponent clad in green dress bows along with her before standing up straight and switched her face into battle mode – a stoic face with an arched brow, as if wanting to end her. (Which, not gonna lie, (Y/N) 100% will let her).

“Cera of Mannequeen,” Kang Daniel began, “why did you pick (Y/N) as your No Respect Dancer?”

“It’s not that I don’t respect (Y/N) as a dancer,” Cera started, holding the mic to her lips with one hand. “Quite the opposite actually, but, it’s time to show the people who the best ballerina battler is.”

The whole arena cheers and awes at what Cera said whilst (Y/N) just giggled and nodded her head. If there was one thing she always takes pride in, it’s her dancing skills and techniques in ballet.

“Cera-unnie, first of all, thank you for choosing me as your No Respect Dancer.” She bows down again, “however, if I am to prove anything to everyone here today – is that ballet is my style, and I am one of the best out there.”

Amidst the loud roars of the others dancers in the background, Ling, Kirsten, and Audrey’s cheers seems to be the loudest among them.

Cera smirked at the determination of her opponent keeping eye contact with her, and (Y/N) didn’t back down.

The two dancers briefly walked back to the side where their crew members are at for a warm-up, and (Y/N) takes this opportunity to remove her sneakers to change into the dance shoes.

“Is she changing her shoes for this battle?” Monika questioned – perplexed and intrigued. Mike Song just grins widely as he leaned forward, excited at the intense battle that is about to happen.

“Wah, she’s changing her shoes,” Bada commented, looking at the Jam Republic dancer who is currently leaning to one of her members while adjusting her shoes. “She’s putting her best foot forward for this battle.”

Tatter and Lusher agreed, keeping their eyes trained on the ballet dancer, eager to watch her dance.

“You got this girl,” Latrice said. Offering her arm for (Y/N) to stabilize herself as she changes her shoes. “Show her and everyone what you’re made of.”

“Thank you,” (Y/N) replied. Jumping in her place to feel the shoes beneath her feet.

“Kill everyone who doubted you with your dance.” Jam Republic laughed at the seriousness in Audrey’s voice, taken aback by her.

The lights dimmed once the two dancers made their way towards the center, Kang Daniel exchanged glances with the two women in the middle of the dance floor with a smile on his face.

“The battle between two ballerina dancers will begin now. You guys ready?!” Kang Daniel announced. Cera and (Y/N) eyed each other up and down, one with a stoic, daring look, standing tall and elegantly, while the other is currently sporting a small smile on her lips as she cracks her head from side-to-side.

“Let’s go (Y/N)!”

“Show them what you’ve got!”

“Kill this battle (Y/N)!”

The other Jam Republic members cheers can be heard from all over the room before the battle can even begin.

“Fight!”

The music started playing as soon as Kang Daniel said the word. Cera starts her iconic slow walk while keeping her eye-contact with (Y/N). It’s quite intimidating, but (Y/N) held her ground, admiring the determination in Cera’s eyes.

Cera started moving her arms at each beat of the music, before adding her own twists and turns before she does her iconic leg move. (Y/N)’s face scrunched up in disgust, indicating a sick and impressive move done by her opponent as she hits every beat of the music.

The Mannequeen dancer comes close to you, pointing at you with a single finger and pointing it up and down your figure. (Y/N) bit her lower lip as she arched her brow and titled her head. Leaning her head down a bit to stare at Cera with lidded yet seductive eyes.

The whole crowd went crazy with her looks.

She can’t deny the charisma and confidence of Cera in this battle, the latter really is showing years of experience in battling and the undeniable musicality she seemingly naturally possess.

As Cera’s time comes to an end, you used a sign language taught to you by Baby Sleek and signalled her to hurry up – much to the surprise of the other members of Wolf’Lo.

“She knows how to use it?!” Yeni asks in surprise, bringing her hands up to her head. Baby Sleek is the only one looking focused at the battle, eager for you to showcase your dance while the others had their jaws dropped.

Kang Daniel counts the last 3 seconds of Cera’s time, the woman comes close to your face and circled you whilst flipping your hair – just like what she did to Ling, before walking back confidently to the side of her team.

“3, 2, 1, switch! (Y/N) of Jam Republic!”

The members of Jam Republic screamed once the opening of Partition by Beyonce starts playing. (Y/N) smirks, stepping slowly forward towards the middle, mimicking a seductive wave after she flips her hair once the “hey, Ms. Carter” starts playing.

Everyone went wild once the beat drops – along with (Y/N) as she suddenly drops down to her knees and starts to doing some sensual floor works. The judges and competitors alike went ballistic at her opening moves, and it was just beginning.

(Y/N) kept her eyes on Cera the whole time, still with that lidded gaze. She slowly stands up, spinning fast with the beat in an insanely clean and controlled manner. She then did some popping and locking, showcasing her prowess in other styles of dancing other than ballet much to the delight of the judges and her team mates. She hits every beat of the song while sometimes taking the lyrics into account of her movements – showing a great control of her body and unparallel musicality.

“This is so crazy!” Monika yells as she keeps her eyes trained at (Y/N).

Chocol couldn’t look at anywhere else once (Y/N) started dancing. She has her arms crossed against her chest as she watches intensely with a impressed smirk plastered on her face. She walks down the steps to have a better view of the dancer dancing before her.

She finds it impressive at how she uses various techniques and moves of ballet and other styles to incorporate it in her moves. It looks complicated, but she makes it look so seemless and effortless.

Bada, on the other side of the arena, finds it hard to contain her emotions as she watches the Jam Republic dancer. She’s constantly shouting, impressed by the moves executed by the young dancer. She holds onto her cap as her jaw drops once (Y/N) did an aerial.

She claps and screams along with the rest of her team as she continues to watch her with a starstruck gaze and jaw dropped. Lusher takes one glance at Bada before she bursts out laughing.

“Oh my gosh your totally whipped Bada-unnie!” She laughs, slapping Bada’s arm as she threw her head back.

Bada immediately flushed red and attempted to cover it with a cough, but it still wasn’t enough to tear away her gaze from the performing dancer of the pink team.

While (Y/N) remained oblivious to the pairs of eyes staring at her, she focused on ending her battle with a bang. As Kang Daniel signals the last 5 seconds of her time, she makes her way towards Cera – mimicking the way she circled around her earlier, but with her own seductive walk. She stopped in front of her, bending down to her eye level whilst blowing a kiss with a wink, wiggling her fingers in a goodbye motion before walking back to her team with a smile and playing with her hair as she shakes her head from side-to-side.

(Y/N)’s members hyped her up as she walks towards them. She laughs as Audrey and Ling jokingly bows down to her like a royalty, making the others follow soon after. She covers her laughs underneath her hands to also hide the redness that’s painting her cheeks.

Everyone went ballistic. Screaming their heads off at the intense yet entertainingly fun battle between the ballerina’s of Mannequeen and Jam Republic.

She then turns back around to face Cera who has a smile on her face, bowing down at her in gratitude for the battle. She continued bowing to everyone who was still in shock by the battle – her heart swelled with pride once she sees Monika standing up with a shocked smile on her lips as well as Mike Song and Shownu who were clapping.

“Good girl, (Y/N)!” Baby Sleek yells, clapping her hands. The mentioned girl heard it and snaps her head towards her, holding her hands to her chest before bowing deeply. She can feel tears well up in her eyes but she shakes her head to avoid them from falling down.

Her former teacher praised her loudly and openly. The highest compliment she could ever receive from this competition.

“That was intense!” Lusher exclaimed, sitting back down in her seat once the commotion started dying down.

“They really showed their battling skills. Their confidence is through the roof!” Mini exclaimed. “Honestly, whoever wins this deserves it.”

(Y/N) and Cera makes their way back to the center of the dance floor. Breathing heavily after the intense battle they shared.

“Fight judges,” Kang Daniel starts, “cards open.”

(Y/N) could hear her heart ponding against her chest and in her ears as she fiddles with her fingers. All the judges visibly look like they’re having a hard time deciding on their choices. She reminds herself that whatever the outcome of the battle is, she gave it her best. Yet, she still wants to secure a win for her team.

And then, the cards are flipped.

And everyone cheered.

Monika holds two cards – pink and yellow.

While Shownu and Mike Songs holds a single, pink card.

(Y/N) almost drops to the ground because of relief.

Cera and Mannequeen sighs in defeat and in dismay while the Jam Republic members – specifically Audrey, Ling, and Kirsten, cheers loudly.

(Y/N) makes her way towards Cera and offers her hand, “you are amazing! I love your dance! You are simply amazing out there and thank you for the wonderful battle. It was an honour to compete with you. I hope we can be good friends in the future because you are simply just amazing!”

Cera coos at the adorable ramble of her opponent and pulls her to a hug. “Thank you, thank you too for that battle. I love you, you’re amazing too out there! We must definitely meet up sometime after this.”

(Y/N) grins and pats her back before they separate. “We should do this more often!” Cera laughs before she and her team makes their way towards their seats.

“Way to go (Y/N)!” Kirsten exclaims as she holds onto her arm.

“You really killed it out there!”

“Thank you guys, that was so great. I really want to be close friends with Cera now.” Ling giggles at her comment.

The rest of her team continues to praise her with compliments and congratulations on their way back to their seats. As (Y/N) makes eye contact with her former teacher, she flashes her a grin and a thumbs up. Baby Sleek returns her gestures with a wink and a nod.

Kirsten adds a win chip to their board while (Y/N) makes her way towards Mannequeen to place a lose chip on their board, bowing down at the members and thanking them for a wonderful fight.

“I can’t even be mad at her,” Yoonji starts, “she’s too polite for me to be mad at us loosing.”

“The whole team is,” Redlic agrees.

“Judge Mike Song, why did you choose (Y/N) as the winner?” Kang Daniel asks once everyone settled down to their seats.

“First of all, the two dancers are very powerful and seasoned in battles – they showed it to us! It was one of the very entertaining and very fun battles this day that’s for sure, and for that, I want to thank the two of you.”

(Y/N) and Cera bows their head in gratitude with huge smiles on their faces and everyone claps. Kirsten and Latrice pats their team mate of her shoulders with a grin on their faces.

“Choosing between the two of you is almost torture!” Mike Song jokingly sighs with a shake of his head, causing everyone to laugh at his dramatic tone. “However, the reason I chose (Y/N) at the end is because of the versatility she showcased us. The body control, the movements, the flow of each step was like water! It was so fluid and she did it with such grace and confidence. So, (Y/N), I hope to see more of you in this competition, because you really killed it out there.”

(Y/N) couldn’t help but stand and bow deeply towards Mike Song and thanked him. The rest of the crews claps and awes at the high praise the member of Jam Republic received from one of the respectable judges.

“That’s one of the highest praise someone got from the judges today,” Mina Myoung commented. “Looks like Kirsten is not the only force of nature in Jam Republic.”

“Their team just got a lot more intimidating.” Nob commented, looking at Jam Republic.

“I entered this show so sure of my preference and sexuality, but tell me why Bada and (Y/N) are making me question it?” Deep N Dap members laughs at the unexpected comment Downy made.

⁽⁠⁽⁠ଘ⁠(⁠ ⁠ˊ⁠ᵕ⁠ˋ⁠ ⁠)⁠ଓ⁠⁾⁠⁾

It wasn’t long before Mike Song’s request for more battles came true.

“The next challenger of the battle,” Kang Daniel began, pausing once again for the dramatic effects. “Is Chocol from Wolf’Lo.”

“Oh right! Let’s go!” Haechi cheers, shaking Chocol by her shoulders as the older dancer makes her way down the seats. Per usual, her crew follows close behind her.

“I wonder who she chose,” Emma comments after taking a sip from her water, “her team is kinda scary.”

(Y/N) and Ling hums in agreement, watching the crew in front of them in silent. Silently terrified at the thought of battling against one of them. Though (Y/N) is confident in her skills and unafraid to show them, Wolf’Lo is just on another level.

Chocol takes the microphone that’s handed to her, licking her lips as she starts to walk around.

“The No Respect Dancer I choose,” she began, making her way towards Lady Bounce who tenses up from their seats.

She gave a slight smirk to Nob and Biggy who visibly gulps down the saliva stuck down their throats. Chocol enjoyed teasing them, making them think that she’s choosing one of them, but then, she skipped backwards without looking back before suavely turning around and jogs lightly towards the pink team. “Is Jam Republic’s (Y/N)”

“My god my heart,” Nob says. Holding onto her chest as she breathes out a sigh of relief and leans backwards.

(Y/N) smiles, standing up from her seat from the top and sets down the Jam Republic banner in her hand. Before she can take a single step down, she saw a hand in front of her. When she looks at who the hand belongs to, it leads down to Chocol, waiting for her at the bottom with her arm outstretched.

“Oh, okay,” Kirsten said teasingly as she and Latrice moved to the side to make way for (Y/N).

“Special treatment, I see you.” Latrice added.

Everyone awes at the action, more so when (Y/N) places her hand on Chocol’s with a smile before descending down the seats.

“It’s like a prince charming guiding a princess,” Redy said, leaning forward with her hands on the bottom of her chin. “I’m so jealous right now.”

“What in the story book cliché is this?” Yoonji stomps her feet jokingly, “why didn’t I get that kind of treatment?”

“Yah, you threatened her leader earlier to a dance battle with a scary façade and you expect the others not to be afraid of you?” Buckey jokingly replies which made everyone burst out laughing and Yoonji to pout.

“Tsk.” Bada clicked her tongue as she watches Chocol guide (Y/N) to the dance floor with their hands still intertwined with narrowed eyes. “Honestly, this is a serious competition. Why is she being nice to her opponent?”

Lusher hears what her leader grumbled underneath her breath, causing her to giggled and comfortingly pat her back. “Don’t worry unnie, no need to be jealous.”

Bada snaps her head towards her sub-leader with a glare and a slight pout. “Who said anything about jealousy?”

Lusher holds her hands up with wide eyes and downturned smile. “Nothing, nothing. I’m just teasing you.”

Bada clicks her tongue once again in annoyance before looking back to the front with her arms crossed against her chest. Lusher and Tatter made eye-contact from each sides of Bada with knowing looks and teasing smiles. The other members of Team BEBE heard the conversation laughs silently, watching as their leader sulks down on her seat.

“Chocol, why did you choose (Y/N) as your weakest dancer?” Kang Daniel asked.

With their height difference, Chocol had to tilt her head up ever so slightly to make eye-contact with her opponent. She adjusted her cap with one hand as the other holds the mic to her lips.

“Originally, I chose her because I want to see what that pretty face can bring. But from the battle earlier, we all saw it. So now, I want to see if she can bring that fire come to life again, but this time, more closely and upfront.”

“Is she flirting with her or what?” Debby whispered to Harimu with a slight giggle.

(Y/N) nods and rolls her tongue against her cheek, bowing her head down slightly. She tosses her hair back before answering with her now famous lidded-eye look, “if it’s fire you want, then I’ll gladly burn the stage in here, baby.”

Everyone screams once they heard (Y/N) talk in that low-flirty way as combat against Chocol’s remarks in full English:

“Why was that so hot?!”

“I don’t speak and understand English very well but damn!”

“See! I told you she’s making me question everything!”

“I understand you perfectly well now, Downy!”

(Y/N) laughs as she hears the comments, giving the mic to her Kirsten who is now looking at her with a teasing face.

“You better burn the stage baby,” she mimics. (Y/N) rolls her eyes at her before teasing pinching her arm. Kirsten laughs as she dodges her hand.

(Y/N) faces her opponents team, the team of Baby Sleek. It would be a lie if she says she isn’t downright petrified right now. This is the crew with the most skilled freestyle battlers – but she was trained by the best of them. This is her chance to solidify and prove herself once again to one of the most respected teachers she had.

Chocol bounces on her feet, preparing for the battle. (Y/N) has her hands stretching above her head as far as she can as she glances at her opponent who teasingly winks at her. She rolls her eyes and shakes her head at the playful nature of Chocol.

Bada grumbled even more at the exchange. She doesn’t even know why she’s feeling this ugly feeling in her chest. Hell, she didn’t even have a conversation with the dancer yet, or even introduce herself! That doesn’t mean she won’t find away later, maybe she’s just bitter that someone got to befriend her before her. Yeah, maybe that’s it. She just wants to forge a friendship with the dancer first, you know, just cause.

“The battle between Wolf’Lo’s street dancer and the ballerina of Jam Republic will begin now. You guys ready?!”

Cheers erupted from both teams and the rest of the teams, curious to see the outcome of the battle between two very different styles of dance between the two dancers.

“Fight!”

Music filled the loud speakers of the room. Chocol nods her head to the beat to get into the groove as her team mates cheers her on. When the beat drops, she comes close to (Y/N)’s space and sways her body to the music.

It was a bold start, (Y/N) admits, and the way Chocol moves is nothing short of hypnotic. Her body moves so fluidly yet with power as she hits every beat of the song. She definitely knows how to control body on command, if there is one thing she can describe her dance overall, it’s classic hip-hop. Effective yet timeless when it comes to battle.

(Y/N) smirks as Chocol comes close to her face, mimicking the flying kiss she did to Cera earlier. Wanting to continue this banter, she “catches” the kiss mid-air and pretends to keep it in her pocket.

She lets out an impress shout at Chocol’s body articulation. She began hyping her up, moving her body along with the beat while staying still in her position. Chocol’s performance is nothing short of impressive, but her competitive side is coming out, and now she wants to do better.

As Chocol’s timer comes to an end, she once again closes in on (Y/N)’s space, this time, ending her dance by mockingly pointing at her figure up and down and another flying kiss which caused another uproar from the side of Deep N Dap

“That should be me!” Someone shouts.

“5, 4, 3, 2, 1, switch! Jam Republic’s (Y/N)!”

A familiar laugh echoes through the room, before the beginning lyrics of Gangsta by Kehlani plays. (Y/N) lets out a wide smirk and tilts her head to the side.

My turn.

Audrey began screaming her head off once the familiar music fills the air. She danced with (Y/N) before during her time of travelling the world to learn new styles of dance, and if there is one thing Audrey knows for certain, (Y/N) dances very well to dark themes.

“You got this (Y/N)! Eat. This. Up!”

With that, the Jam Republic dancer ran her hands across her body to get into the feel of the music – which isn’t that hard. She began walking forward slowly, just like what Cera did, but with a tad bit more of sensuality.

When the beat starts going down, her expression and articulation changes to every beat, mimicking the craziness Harley Quinn did in the movie in which the song was made of. Everyone can see where she’s going with the dance and is excited yet again. Bada and Chocol keeps their gazes focused solely on her.

In this dance, (Y/N) focuses more on interpreting the lyrics of the song yet still hitting the necessary beat from time to time, just taking on a more contemporary approach. In contrast to Chocol’s hip-hop, she chose a genre she excels in.

Chocol smirks as she goes down towards the floor once again, expecting another floor work from her. She did, but a lot shorter and takes everyone by surprise once again.

(Y/N) did a middle spilt before crouching down, but she didn’t get up. Instead, she takes a hold of her left foot, before initiating a single hand cartwheel – still holding onto the foot, down to a split and stands up without the use of her hands.

Screams can be heard once again, thoroughly impressed by the never-ending amount of techniques and tricks the Jam Republic dancer seem to possess. Jam Republic members sported a disgusted looks as they cheer their fellow member on, some jumping on their places purely from the amount of adrenaline they are getting just by watching (Y/N) dance.

They are not the only one’s though. Bada, with her cool and mysterious look she once sported, almost disappears by how much she is now yelling. Watching (Y/N) dance only increases her determination and will to befriend her and possibly collab with her and her team in the future. Bada watches with awe as (Y/N) stays true to her word: she really is setting the stage on fire.

(Y/N) can hear her time coming to an end, she laid down on her stomach with her legs up in the air as she drags her finger to her lips, smirking seductively at Chocol. The said girl only tilted her cap and bites her bottom lip in acknowledgement.

(Y/N) held onto that pose for a few seconds, taking in the cheers and the screams of the other dancers before grinning brightly and standing up.

“How can she possess that duality?! One moment she’s all smiles and elegant looking the next moment its as if she’s seducing me!” Downy exclaimed as she watches (Y/N) makes her way to her team with a bright smile.

“She’s like a wolf in sheep’s clothing!” Mini said, clapping her hands after patting and congratulating Chocol on the battle.

“You were on fire baby!” Emma cheers, patting the heaving girl on the shoulders.

“Harley Quinn definitely possessed you for a moment there!” Ling exclaims.

“Thank you,” (Y/N) smiles at her members before turning around to face the judges on the middle.

Chocol is one of the oldest and seasoned battlers they have, and Wolf’Lo doesn’t have a lose chip to their board yet, so, (Y/N) is prepared and had already accepted her fate that she lost this battle.

“Fight judges,” Kang Daniel announces, “card open.”

It was a surprise that the judges seem to have their pick already and confidently, however, the result of the battle left everyone even more surprised.

Three pink cards.

(Y/N)’s hands flew to her mouth in shock, and this time, she actually fell to the floor in shock. Jam Republic immediately went to her side and cheered her on while Wolf’Lo nods their head in defeat but claps nonetheless. She makes her way towards Chocol to shake her hand, but before she can do that, Chocol takes her hand up to place a kiss on her knuckles, causing her to grin and flush bright red.

Everyone who saw the interaction began teasing and cooing at the couple, some because of jealousy, others because of the *kilig. Well, most of them. A particular leader of the blue team scoffed loudly before chuging down the contents of her bottle before crushing the bottle with one hand. As she grumbles in her seat, her members are secretly watching her in amusement, never expecting their leader to act this way.

“Thank you for the amazing fight, Chocol.” (Y/N) began, taking her hand back with a smile still painted on her lips.

Chocol shrugs her shoulders nonchalantly with a smirk, stuffing her hands on her pockets. “Don’t worry about it, darling. I had fun.”

“Yah, what do you mean darling?!” Baby Sleek scolded playfully as she slaps the back of Chocol’s head and drags her back by her arm, causing the younger woman to pout.

“Stop flirting with her and get back to our seats! “Darling,” your face.” Jam Republic just laughs at the dynamic of the orange team.

The rest of the crews are still in shock that the first and only person so far to break the winning streak of Wolf’Lo is the ballerina of the pink team.

“Wow, (Y/N) really is amazing.” Rena of Tsubakill said, still in awe of the Jam Republic member who is now currently walking back to their seats.

“She only had two battles so far and she’s already proving herself as one of the strongest dancers here.” Akanen replied.

“Fight judge Monika, why did you pick (Y/N) as the winner of the battle?” Kang Daniel asked.

“I’m going to keep it short and frank, (Y/N) did not only dance, she told a story.” Monika says while looking at the dancer. “She told a story while embodying a well-known character of the movie which is insane because it’s as if you really are her for a second. You brought colour to the dance – no, you brought fire to the dance.”

Jam Republic claps at Monika’s comment.

“(Y/N),” she adds, “you took me by surprise. You really are one of a kind.”

(Y/N) swears she could sob at the high regard. She stands up and bows deeply towards Monika like she did too Mike Song. She then stands up

“It’s like a main character moment,” Biggy said, watching as Kirsten place a win chip to their board. “Are we the side characters?” Lady Bounce laughed at her.

As (Y/N) places the first and only lose chip on the board of Wolf’Lo, Baby Sleek reaches up her hand and pats her head.

“Well done, (Y/N),” she says. “You really have gone far now. I’m proud of you.”

*kilig - causing or characterized by a feeling of exhilaration or elation.

tag list:@luvjanexx @b1ackbunny @thedevilisrory @kaaylvst @badagf @aestrelle19 @leo-dragon@xiakiyama @watamotee33 @tnu-ree @hallotherenicetomettyou @skuuzae @froufrousnowman @strawblueberrys @avocifera@urvirtualgfteehee@kaylinsimpson@jksjx@1luvkarina@jjlovesbada@infinite1sblog @randomhoex@maximoff-jp@woniesheep@tsuunlovers @bada-lee-ily @deadpool15@maknaehyucks @smoooore@efyyylee @amararosesblog @zhivaxo @badasgirlfriend @pupbistro @bluebada @westwoodsvivi @haebragi @awkwardtoafault

note: initialized names can't be tagged. I'm sorry 😭😭😭

next part >>>

#let's dance #bada lee #bada x reader #chocol #chocol x reader #swf2 x reader #bada lee x reader #bada lee x y/n #jo kayoung #jo kayoung x reader #bada x y/n #street woman fighter 2 x reader #street woman fighter 2 #street woman fighter x reader #jo gayoung x reader #BEBE #wolf'lo #jam republic #Spotify

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magics-neptunes-things · 6 months

Text

Historia de Amor

Hey guys!

This is a new story and it's really a very long. I asked you by a survey if you prefer that I separate the story into several chapters but you answered me no :)

I didn't put all the ideas I had in this story however, I still keep some under the elbow.

Tell me if you liked it and what is the part you preferred :)

Resume : Lots of part of life with the love of your life.

TW : Physic hurt

PART 2 IS HERE and BONUS CHAPTER HERE

Keeping a facade smile on her face, Ona looked around and felt a bit lost. It had only been two weeks since she arrived in Manchester from Spain and from the height of her 21 years she had trouble to cope with her new environment. She hardly spoke the language of the country where she had just moved in and despite the warm welcome she had received from her teammates, she needed a little time to adapt. She was relieved to have the opportunity to speak Spanish with some of her teammates, like Ivana. It was relaxing for her. She was doing better and better in English, even though she found her accent horrible.

However, tonight it was difficult for her to follow the conversations that existed around her. It was late and she had had training this morning, but when Alessia invited her to attend her brother’s birthday party, Ona couldn't refuse. She knew it would make it easier for her to connect with her teammates and she had a great evening. But between the alcohol she had drunk and fatigue, it became a little too much for her.

So she politely apologized to her table mates and got up to go outside and breathe some fresh air. The anniversary took place in a sort of old English castle that the Russo had rented for the occasion, also providing rooms for people who would have drunk too much to return home safely. Ona went out in the courtyard, the sound of gravel under her shoes bringing her a rather surprising calm but nevertheless not pleasant. A female silhouette caught her eyes and she turned her steps in her direction.

Your direction.

"Hello" she says gently, approaching you.

Focused on your camera, you didn’t see her arrive, but you raise your head and smile at her.

"Hi" you simply answer before putting your attention back on the screen of your camera.

A silence sets in, but it is not disturbing. The presence of Ona doesn't bother you, quite the contrary actually. You briefly glance at her and realize that she is looking at the screen of your camera while you are sorting out the shots you made during the evening.

Ona, realizing only now that she was staring, so she bites her lip and hurries to turn her gaze away.

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to…"

"Don’t worry" you smile again before placing your camera on the embankment against which Ona leans, while you are sitting yourself. "The lights from inside kept me from seeing the pictures properly, which is why I went out. Would you like to see the ones where you appear?"

Ona looks at you again a few moments before giving you a shy smile and nodding. It takes you a few minutes to find the ones you are looking for and Ona finally decides to break the silence.

"So you’re like the official photographer?"

"Kind of" you laugh softly. "I am the little sister of Giorgio’s best friend. They offered me to be the photographer for the evening, it’s more a passion than anything else. Here you go."

You finally find what you were looking for and show two shots you made of Ona. She appears with Alessia and Ella, but you must admit that they are the only ones we can find her.

"They are pretty"

"They are not exceptional" you answer objectively, shrugging your shoulders, before biting your lip by looking at her thoughtfully.

"What?"

You smile when you see her looking at you and gently frowning. You had already noticed her in the crowd, looking a little lost but a smile that illuminates the entire room. Closer, you can more easily see the features of her face and you realize that she is even more beautiful than you could have imagined. But you don’t share your thoughts with her, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. After all, you don’t know her at all.

"I can make more pictures of you here, if you want?"

Ona seems surprised by your proposal and you quickly realize that it's can be a little weird. For the first time since she joined you here, you’re the one who’s uncomfortable. You even blush, happy that night has fallen for some time. Quietly scraping your throat, you resume before she can even answer you.

"You don’t have to answer me. Excuse me, that was a stupid idea."

"No" she cuts you quickly by putting a hand on your arm. "No, I was just surprised. But why not, but I’m not used to doing that, other than for the shootings of the new jerseys. Since I’m a footballer. I play for Manchester United, with Alessia?"

You laugh softly, first because you're relieved that she doesn't take you for a psychopath but also because it's probably the longest sentence that she heard pronounced. Alessia being the little sister of your brother’s best friend, you have often had to go to one of his matches.

"I suspected it a little, I couldn't come to see you play since the beginning of the season, but since you arrived with Ella and Alessia..."

You don't finish your sentence and smile softly, thinking that if you had known, you would have returned more quickly to the bleachers. While you play mechanically with the strap of your camera, you see Ona gently tilt her head looking at you, probably intrigued by this information.

"You follow women football?"

"Yes… but I must confess myself" you smile maliciously.

"Tell me?"

"I’m more of an Arsenal supporter."

A scandal, an aberration according to your brother. But that’s how it is, you’ve been a fan of Leah Williamson almost all your life and by default you support Arsenal.

"Qué?!" exclaims Ona, looking shocked with her hand on her heart, and you burst out laughing at her.

She also laughs and you discover your new favorite melody. Okay girl, you’re gonna have to focus because otherwise you’re gonna go home tonight with a solid crush.

"What about these pictures?"

***********

The next morning, you got up around 10 am and the first thing you did was plug your camera into your computer. You didn’t take care of Giorgi and Luca’s photos or the cake, but instead you hurried to look for the photos you took of Ona in the course of the castle. Without wanting to throw flowers at you, they are incredible but your talent is certainly not for much.

Ona is resplendent, sometimes smiling, sometimes shy, from the front, from the side and even from the back. You scroll through the photos you took of her for many minutes before opening your photo editing software to correct the light. You do nothing else, there is nothing to touch up. Ona is perfect.

The Latin gave you her email address to send her the photos, but you wait until the afternoon to do it, hoping to receive a quick answer from her. You know that she has no training that day, that’s why Giorgio chose that night to organize her party.

The answer from Ona arrives at the end of the afternoon and from this moment will start an exchange of emails then messages when you decide to pass on your phones, so that it is more convenient apparently.

You and Ona talked almost non-stop for the next ten days. Manchester playing away the following weekend, it's only during the week that Ona offers you to go for a coffee together. You obviously accept quickly, too happy to see her again without having to initiate the thing. You tried to grab information about Ona, but going through three intermediaries (your brother, Alessia’s brother AND Alessia) made things too complicated. And when your brother started teasing you, you quickly gave up.

So you turned on social media, but you quickly realized that apart from a few photos of her friends and family, Ona was rather discreet about her romantic life. You couldn’t even tell if she was attracted to women and you didn’t have the courage to ask her directly. You’ve seen a picture of her with the rainbow flag, but it may very well say that she supports the cause without necessarily being part of it.

You had a long debate about how you should dress for this date. It was just a coffee at 10:00 in the morning, Ona having informed you that she had the day off. For your part, with your university studies, you had the opportunity to manage your work as you wanted.

After much hesitation, you ended up opting for an artificially ripped jeans, a white t-shirt and a leather jacket, all embellished with your eternal red Converse. Your hair is released freely and cascade down your shoulders. Ona having a car, she offered to pick you up and it's with a bit of nervousness that you enter her car when she parks in front of your building.

"Holà!" she greets you joyfully.

Her smile is contagious and you say hello before closing the door and fastening your seat belt. You feel a heartbeat when she lays a kiss on your cheek, but you try to quickly regain your countenance. You got the information from one of your friends that the Spaniards might have a different approach to physical contact, but it got out of your head. That moment wasn’t unpleasant though.

"Where are you taking me?"

Ona gives you a quick look before turning her attention back on the road since she has restarted her car. You notice her phone hanging on the dashboard, Waze plugged in to show her the right way.

"I don’t really know Manchester yet, so I asked Ivana to recommend a place. I hope you'll like it."

You nod and sit comfortably against the seat of her car. You have no doubt that you will have a good time with her. You have about fifteen minutes to travel and you take the opportunity to ask her about her activities last night. Despite the fact that you write to each other very day, you are relieved to see that you still have things to say to each other. And especially that your conversations are as fluid oral as written.

When you arrive at your destination, Ona hurries out of her car to open your door. You find yourself blushing slightly, thanking her with a small smile. The fact that you found a parking place so close to the establishment is probably close to the miracle and you take this as a sign of fate.

Ona also holds the door of the establishment and guides you to one of the tables when the waitress signals you to settle where you want. After consulting you with a glance, the Spanish woman makes her choice on a table at the back of the room, probably allowing to have some privacy. She may not be a rock star but it must happen quite regularly to her to be recognized. You realize now that you’ve never asked yourself about it.

"Have you been here before?"

You smile at Ona and shake her head negatively, assuring her that this is the first time. You had already passed several times ahead of course, having grown up in Manchester it would have been difficult not to. That said, the place is beautiful, simple and seems well maintained. Not to mention that the menu seems pretty great.

The waitress arrives a few minutes after you are installed, notepad in hand to take your order. You refrain from frowning when you see her look at Ona with an air a little too insistent for your taste while the footballer still deciphers the card to order. You could have sunk into a spiral of jealousy if she hadn’t taken your breath away with her smile looking back at you right after giving the menu back.

"How’s your file going?" asks the Latin girl while keeping her smile.

You briefly bite the inside of your lower lip before answering it, still not understanding what she can find interesting in your literature studies. But you finally find yourself explaining to her where you are and you realize that not only does she ask you questions, but they are also related to what you have already told her before.

"Are you doing something on Saturday?" asks the Latina after you receive your order.

"Not really. Why?"

"We’re playing against Arsenal… and I was wondering if you wanted to come see me play?"

The proposal pleases you, and the fact that the brunette uses the term "me" rather than "us" even more. But you decide to tease her and offer her a big innocent smile.

"Mh depends, will you introduce me to Leah Williamson?"

Understanding immediately that you are only trying to play with her, Ona hides her amusement behind her milkshake a few seconds before answering you.

"If you want me to never speak to you again, this is the best thing to do"

You laugh gently and bite your lower lip again watching Ona play with her straw and the end of her drink. You find the dimples that dig into her face every time she laughs or smiles just adorable. Wishing not to let the slightest doubt hover between you two, you lean slightly in her direction to attract her attention again.

"I will come to see you play with pleasure"

Ona smiles at you and you feel yourself melting like vanilla ice cream in full sun. Your gaze exchange lasts a little longer than two simple friends would, but you have a hard time pulling yourself out of the intensity of her chocolate pupils. It's only when the waitress arrives, asking you if you want something else that you're back to reality. After questioning you with a look, Ona simply refuse for both of you- After you have shared the bill, you find yourself outside, breathing again the fresh air.

"You want to go for a walk?" you propose to Ona. "I could show you a couple of nice places around here, if you want."

"I would love to"

With that you are gone in the small streets of Manchester, where tourists don't normally come. You don't meet many people, but with the sun shining on Manchester today it seems to make everything beautiful. Or is it the presence of the Hispanic? Because of your physical proximity, your hands touch a few times, each time sending you a discharge of electric current.

"Is this a date?"

Your question escapes from your lips even before you have time to realize it and it seems to surprise Ona as much as you. She turns entirely in your direction, leaving the sight of the city that you had after climbing in the heights.

"I hoped it would be"

Ona’s answer is whispered, but you smile softly as you nod.

"Good"

Enjoying the sun, you sit on a bench to chat even more, eating toasted almonds and hot chocolate when it’s time for a snack.

On your way back, your hands eventually join gently but surely. It's first the little finger of Ona who clings to yours and you discover with amusement that she watches you from the corner of the eye to see your reaction. Realizing that you don't seem uncomfortable and that you are even getting closer to her, her relief is such that you feel her release the breath she was holding.

When you get back to her car, your two hands are tightly tied and you miss the heat of Ona’s palm against yours the moment you have to let's go to get into the car.

"I’ll take you home"

It’s more a statement than a proposal and you don’t even think of refusing when Ona informs you of her decision once you arrive in front of your building. You postpone the time to say goodbye while remaining a few minutes to discuss in front of the door of the building. You hesitate to ask her to come home with you, but it is now the beginning of the evening as the day passed quickly.

As you finally say goodbye, Ona leans over you and gently places her lips in the corner of yours. The heat wave that it gives you is mixed with a little feeling of frustration, which pushes you to follow Ona’s movement when she steps back. If you had wanted to hide this gesture, it would have been useless. The Latin obviously saw you.

"Not on the first date Hermosa" she whispers mischievously before stepping back a few steps and returning to her car, waving at you with her damn beautiful smile on her gorgeous face.

Saturday, like you promised her, you are around the pitch looking her play.

You arrived for the training to not miss anything of her on the field, curious to see her evolve with a ball at her feet. After her warm-up ends, she quickly makes her way to you, with a big smile on her lips. Leaving the small group that accompanied you, partly formed of your brother and Alessia’s family, you join her, leaning against the barrier.

"I’m glad you’re here. But I see you don’t have a jersey?"

You laugh softly, knowing full well that she's refers to one of the discussions you had the night before, during which you teased each other and where you threatened to show up with an Arsenal jersey.

"I didn’t have time to find one, but I promise, next time. And a Manchester's one."

Ona’s smile is getting bigger, maybe partly because you just promised to come watch her again, before you even know if you’ll like this game. She knows you watch football from time to time and sometimes you come here, but coming to see her is different. Unfortunately, the Spanish has no time to stay longer. The members of her team call her and you smile as you wave her to join them.

This will not prevent Ona from returning a few minutes later, walking hesitantly at you with a shy smile, a jersey with the Manchester logo in her hand. You take it and after folding it, you realize that her name and her number are on it. Without hesitation, you put it over your sweater.

***********

Later that night, you were in your apartment accompanied by Ona. After she offered to take you home, you had this time the courage to offer her a last drink before she heads home.

Sitting on your couch, you turned on your TV with a shitty reality show that neither of you really follows, rather focused on the discussion you have about the game. Ona's team won at the last minute of the game, managing the suspense until the end. You had a great time actually and you even miss some things on the pitch, all your attention focused on a certain Spanish defender. Alessia scored the last goal actually, for the greatest pride of her brothers.

"Not too disappointed that you haven't met Leah?" Ona teases you and you smile.

"I’ll get over it" you assure her, laughing softly.

Ona smiles again and you can’t help but admire her for a few seconds, your head resting on your hand, itself resting on the back of the sofa. In front of you, Ona imitated your position. After she showered, she put on a sports jogging bottoms and an orange hoodie. Her hair is gathered into a messy bun and a few strands fall on her face. Delicately you put a strand behind his ear.

"You look tired" you whispers, your fingers brushing against the skin of her cheek when you take your hand back.

"I am" she admits without stopping looking at you.

"You look beautiful, too" you whispers again, earning a new smile.

"No, that's you"

You roll your eyes before shaking your head while smiling. You don't want to play the fake modest, but in your eyes if there is one of you who was blessed by the fairy of beauty, it's definitely Ona. You look back at her right after though, feeling her hand under your chin. She gently raises her face in her direction, allowing you to realize that she has come closer to you.

"I really mean it. You’re beautiful."

"Ona..."

If your heart could get out of your thorax cage, it would certainly do so now as it beats so hard. With your proximity, you can see all the peculiarities of her face, starting with the different shades of her freckles. Her eyes shines with a particular glow, which has nothing to do with the shade of fatigue that was there a few moments ago. This moment of delicious tension lasts a few seconds before you speak again, your voice barely higher than a murmur.

"Just kiss me"

That was all she was waiting for, gently breaking the last inches between you. Her lips are light on yours at first, like a touch of butterflies, before coming more present. They are soft, delicate, sweet, perfect. This kiss is even better than any you could imagine during your moments of dreaming.

Ona’s hand gently leaves your cheek to slide onto your neck, causing shivers in every place she touches.

You briefly resume breathing, before initiating a second kiss. You gently tilt your head to the side to have a better access and you can not retain a slight moan when you feels her tongue caress your lower lip, asking access to yours. You accept, of course. And this time you feel completely attracted and overwhelmed by the mixture of feelings and sensations.

When you regain consciousness, well helped by the burning of your lungs that remind you that they need oxygen, you are literally lying on Ona, herself lying too on the couch. She has one hand on your neck and the other on your back, while yours are positioned on her waist.

"Well, this is interesting" comments Ona with a mischievous smile.

You blush and try to back off, but the hands of the Latina gently prevent you.

"No... Stay, please" she whispers softly, drawing you back against her.

You willingly accept, placing your face in the hollow of her neck. You smile against her skin when you feel her kiss on the top of your head and you tilt your head to have a better angle for looking at her. She smirks at you and you lean to kiss her jaw, her cheeks and every part of her beautiful face.

Some weeks after becoming official to your friends, Ona had to fly to Spain for a preparation camp for the national team. Your apartment seems empty without your girlfriend because even if you don't live together, you spend almost all your evenings with each other. When you have to study for university, Ona settles down next to you and watches a series on TV, taking advantage of Netflix to perfect her English with Spanish subtitles. Sometimes she falls asleep, waiting patiently for you to finish your work. Her adaptation to Manchester is getting better and better, even though she recently confess that she missed her native country a lot.

Being in exam period, you couldn't follow her and this is the first time you are separated for so long. So you wait patiently for her to call you, you can usually talk to each other through FaceTime in the evening and sometimes she call you at her lunch break. When she can't, you exchange messages. Ona sharing a room with one of her teammates, a certain Laia who apparently plays in Manchester City, you made the decision not to fall asleep by letting your FaceTime on. So you often end your nights exchanging messages, until one of you ends up falling asleep.

That’s what you’re doing now. Lying under your duvet on your side, you're already talking to Ona since 30 minutes.

You - Do you want to play a game?

Onita ♥ - What kind of game? You know I'm not alone in my room :-P Onita ♥ - I'm joking, what is it?

You smile, rolling your eyes. The way Ona seems always scared of hurting you or making you believe things she find strange is really cute. You already told her that you're not made of glass, but it's seems like it's stronger than her.

You - I have 12 questions to ask you and you have to answer the most sincerly possible

Onita ♥ - Seems fun. Go on Hermosa.

You - 1) If someone asks you what I am to you, what would you say?

Onita ♥ - That you are the most perfect girl in the world and that by an incredible luck you decided to be mine.

You - 2) What are three things you love about me?

Onita ♥ - Your kindness, how cute you look when you are focused when you're studying, your face.

You - 3) What makes me different of your past lover/s?

Onita ♥ - Well... Everything?

You - 4) What you dislike about me?

Onita ♥ - How far away you are from me right now :(

You - 5) What your favorite thing about me?

Onita ♥ - The way you show how you care about me

You - 6) What was your first impression about me?

Onita ♥ - I wondered why a gorgeous girl like you was alone and when we talked I found you kind, sweet and funny.

You - 7) What are three things I say a lot?

Onita ♥ - Oh man, My back hurt, You're beautiful

You - 8) What is one thing you hope for our future?

Onita ♥ - I really want us to continue to get along as well as we do now

You - 9) If we where together now, what would we be doing?

Onita ♥ - Probably cuddling while watching a movie. And I would kiss you on every inch on your face to distract you from :)

You - 10) What would you be doing right now if we never met?

Onita ♥ - Sleeping (This question is sad btw)

You - Sorry baby ♥ You - 11) How was your life before we got together?

Onita ♥ - I can't say it wasn't good because I would be lying, but you really made it better

You - 12) Will I forever hold a special place in your heart?

Onita ♥ - You always will ♥

You - Thanks baby ♥ You - I can't wait for you to coming home :(

Onita ♥ - Me too. Will you be free the day I'm coming back?

You - Won't you be tired?

Onita ♥ - Claro, but I want to see you. I really miss you a lot...

You - I'll be there :)

In fact, you even decided to pick up Ona at the airport. Your girlfriend introduced you to some of her teammates during one of your FaceTime, apparently they were curious to see the girl who Ona never shut about. You actually met Laia, Leila, Alexia, Jenni and Mapi this way. But thanks to this you could ask one of them to play the spies and give you the landing time of Ona’s plane. You wanted to surprise her, so it would be strange to ask her anyway.

Waiting with other people in the arrival area, you suddenly felt nervous. What if Ona actually preferred to take the time to shower and relax a bit before meeting you? You began to take a hundred steps, mechanically taking your phone out of the pocket when it will ring to announce the arrival of a message. It's from Ona who announces you that she has landed well and that she is about to take her suitcase.

A few long minutes later you finally see her pass the security doors, pulling behind her not one but two suitcases. The way she scans the room on the way out, you feel like she feels you before she even sees you. And, when your eyes finally meet, you feel like you’re in a movie for teenagers. The rest of the world vanishes around you as she runs towards you and jumps into your arms. Having the impression of finally being able to breathe completely again, you press her against you, smiling and feeling her buried her face in the hollow of your neck.

"I missed you so much" she whispers on your skin before placing her lips on yours.

You smile during the kiss, passing your arms around her waist to squeeze her more against you, making her fly a few centimeters above the ground.

It makes her laugh and ends your kiss, but you can’t blame her. You lay a kiss on her cheek as she gently turns in your arms to look behind her and you only realize at this moment that she's accompanied by Laia. She has recovered the suitcases that your girlfriend abandoned and is waiting patiently for the end of your reunion, a smile displayed on her face.

"Holà" she smiles, arching an amused eyebrow.

You greet her in return while Ona redo the presentations before informing you that they had imagined sharing a taxi. It's obviously out of the question for you to let Laia return alone and you immediately propose to drop her at home. You borrowed your brother’s car, as much as it serves the maximum.

"Didn't you leave with a single suitcase?" you question your girlfriend as you walk into the parking lot.

"Yes. But my mother gave me enough to fill my cupboards for the next three years. The good news is that you will be able to taste real Spanish specialties."

"Are you ok?"

Hearing your girlfriend's voice, you turn your face in her direction. You were watching the earth getting closer and closer, announcing that your landing was coming soon. Your fingers were beating nervously on your knee and your teeth were biting your lower lip so hard that Ona was really beginning to fear that it would eventually tear open.

"I’m a little nervous" you confess by quickly turning your gaze away.

That’s an understatement. You’re supposed to meet Ona’s family today and you’re so stressed out that you’re nauseous. Ona has already met your own family, she had anyway crossed them at the birthday of Alessia’s brother. But on your side you only met his big brother when he made the trip during a game to see his little sister play. The current has gone rather well, even if the latter seems rather to be the shy kind.

"You look like you’re going to throw up" Ona comment, arching an eyebrow.

"It's a possibility"

Ona smiles and gently shakes her head. Even if she finds your state of stress touching, she has the good idea not to emphasize it. Instead, she gently turns your face in her direction and places a tender kiss on your lips.

"Better?"

You smile softly, feeling the usual butterflies dancing in the hollow of your belly. That this feeling persists after several months together is a daily source of good surprise and joy.

"Mmh… Not really"

You try to mask your smile, in vain. However, Ona quickly understands what you want and lays a second, then a third kiss, each a little longer than the one before. Soon after, she backs down but places her forehead against yours, stroking your cheek with her thumb.

"You have nothing to fear, I know they will love you."

"What if they don't?"

"There is no risk"

"If they don’t like me, Ona, what do we do?"

Ona seems confident and it reassures you as much as it worries you even more. She is so convinced that she feels no emotion other than a joy to find her parents, her Spanish friends and the places where she grew up. But your question is deep, if things go wrong with her parents, will it lead your couple to a possible end? The idea terrifies you.

"If for some reason they don’t like you, I’ll change their minds. But trust me, there’s no reason why that would happend. Plus, Joan said you're really sweat."

You nod gently as the wheels of the plane touch the ground. Ona lays another kiss on your temple before focusing on what the stewardesses say. They speak Spanish but despite the intensive classes given by your girlfriend, you have trouble understanding what they say. They speak a little too fast and don't necessarily bother to articulate correctly.

After picking up your luggage, Ona takes you to the taxis. She seems to know the place like the back of her hand and you find it interesting to see her evolve in her world. You have already noticed that the timbre of her voice changes when she speaks in her native language and for some reason you find it very sexy. Perhaps because she tends to use Spanish during some of your intimate moments.

You listen carefully when she tells you of memories she has of places you pass through, a tender smile on her face. Stress made you forget that it was a way to get to know your girlfriend better and this realization hits you hard.

Ona’s entry into your life has changed a lot of things, but you must admit that you are also much more tactile with her than what you could have been with your former conquests. It’s kind of like she contaminated you and since she doesn’t seem to be bothered by this behavior, you stopped wondering if you were allowed to be. Then, after a new explanation from her, you lean over her to depose a tender kiss on her cheek, making her smile. And you’re back to vanilla ice cream in the sun state.

The journey takes a little less than an hour, you arrived at rush hour and there are a lot of traffic jams. It seemed to you that the taxi driver recognized Ona but has nothing else let appear than a big smile. But you end up arriving at your destination and you feel your heart start beating too fast and too hard when the taxi stops.

You barely have time to get your luggage out of the trunk of the vehicle and take a few steps into the driveway of the house as the front door opens. Ona’s Mother hurries to join her daughter, probably failing to suffocate her by hugging her. But Ona laughs and you see behind them Ona’s father, looking at his wife with a mixture of fun and tenderness.

"Oi déjala respirar (Let her breath)" he says, hugging his daughter at least as hard as her mom.

Ona’s mother’s attention is on you right after and you smile timidly at her. Now is the moment of truth. Over her father’s shoulder, Ona addresses her mother.

"Mamá, te presento a Y/N (Mum, this is Y/N)"

You open your mouth to say something, but before you can you find yourself in a maternal embrace that surprises you. It takes you a few seconds to answer it, but if it amuses your girlfriend, your mother-in-law doesn’t seem to take offense at it for a second. Then she steps back and looks at you a few seconds before declaring

"Esta niña necesita una buena comida española (This little one needs a good Spanish meal)"

After eating for like twelve people, Ona take you to her childhood room, where you will both sleep during your holidays. She seems a little shy at the idea of you entering her room and you can't stop yourself to teasing her a little.

"What are you afraid of?" you smile, your hand on the doorknob. "You have a big secret hidden here? A3 photos of one of your ex maybe?"

"None of them. It’s just I never brought one of my girlfriends home, let alone my room."

Her confession surprises you and you immediately feel guilty for having teased her on the subject. Feeling stupid, you gently bite your lip looking at it.

"I'm sorry"

"Don’t be, idiota" smiled Ona, before signaling you to enter the room.

More carefully than an archaeologist entering a pyramid, you gently open the door to reveal Ona’s bedroom. The front door immediately opens onto the large window, giving itself the sea view. A double bed is on the left with a multitude of photos hanging above. A bedside table frames each side of the bed and at the level of the cushions there are several soft toys that seem to date from the childhood of the Spanish. Facing the bed is a desk and a TV, as well as one opening in the wall, giving access to what you imagine to be a dressing room. The whole is in sand and sky blue colors, reminder of the good Spanish weather.

"I love it" you smile, looking around you.

"Yeah?"

You hums, looking at the picture above Ona's bed. You can find pictures of Ona with her friends, her parents, brother, cousins, her on the beach and some of her childhood. Lost in your contemplation, you don't hear when Ona approach you but smile while feeling her arms pass around your waist. You’re a few inches taller than her, but that doesn’t stop her from pressing her chin on your shoulder.

"Te amo" she whispers before placing a kiss in the hollow of your neck.

"I love you even more" you answer her before you turn in her arms to pass her arms around.

"And I think my parents love you very much too"

"Do you think?"

Ona confirms her impression and you lean over to place a kiss on her lips. It’s a great relief for you, but in a few weeks Ona will surely tease you by telling you that she told you so. But you are so relieved that you already know that you will endure her jokes without the slightest difficulty.

"Do you want to go to the beach?" your girlfriend asks.

You accept happily and long story short, her wall will be decorated with new photos of you two this summer.

Whenever you had the opportunity, you went to Ona’s games. This makes you a regular at the stadium and you start to know most of the staff in addition to your girlfriend’s teammates. Some new players arrived last summer but were apparently quickly integrated into the team. Now that you’ve graduated and have a steady job, it’s also easier for you to follow Ona on the weekends when she has matches elsewhere in England. You usually move the same day of the game, the team being hosted in a hotel there are logically no places for you. You don’t like those nights away from Ona, to be honest. You are so often at her home that your apartment receives your visit only when Ona is far away and you couldn't follow her.

You can’t lie about not being afraid for your girlfriend. Even though she’s a badass who gets up almost all the time after tough tackles, there have been several times when you’ve almost faint. You remember perfectly the match of Ona against Arsenal during which she suffered several tackles rather rough and where she received a blow on the nose which makes her bleed.

Today, against Brighton, nothing could let you imagine that something special would happen. The game was quite pleasant to watch and there were only a few minutes left before the end of the game. It's at the 86th minute that the collision between Ona and the opposing player takes place and the moment you don't see her getting up, you know that something is wrong.

Despite her teammates at her side and the medical staff, your girlfriend takes long minutes before even sitting down. Unfortunately far from the place of the ground where she is, you cannot hear or even see what is being said. And the anguish you feel makes your whole body throb. Eventually, Ona got up to get out of the field and was probably about to return to play. Desperately trying to cross her eyes, it ends up happening and the Latin girl sends you a small comforting smile. It relieves you a bit, but you still feel that everything is not going as well as she would like to let it seem. It would not surprise you, the Spanish already told you that she didn't like to worry people around her.

And you’re right, since after a few minutes of play, Ona sits on the field, not feeling able to play. She's obviously out of the game, but you’re not allowed to follow her, unfortunately. Or at least not right away. Your brother, always with you, has placed a reassuring arm around your shoulders but this doesn't allow your heart rate to decrease.

It’s only some minutes later that you repent Mark Skinner, the coach, walking down the stairs of the family space to take you with him in the halls of the stadium. He takes you to the infirmary, where you finally find the one that makes your heart beat. Ona is lying on a bed, still dressed in her football outfit and boots. Her face is clenched, her hand on her eyes and she takes it off only when she hears the door of the room open.

"Hi sweatheart" you mumble softly.

She sends you a new little smile as you approach her, Mark having gently closed the door behind you. Not knowing if you can touch her, you decide to sit on the plastic chair next to her bed.

"How are you feeling?"

"Stunned"

You pout and gently place your hand on hers, squeezing it briefly.

"Have the doctors come to you yet?"

"Yes. They think I have a concussion"

That would explain a lot of things. From where you were positioned in the stadium, the shock did not seem so strong to you, but you apparently underestimated the thing. And you feel bad for it.

The door opens again, revealing a nurse and Ella Toone. The english girl carries Ona’s belongings and informs you that she has packed everything without having forgotten anything normally. You take advantage that the nurse looks at Ona to take a look at your phone and finds that you received messages from Ona’s brother and parents, asking you about their daughter or sister. You imagine that they had to write to Ona and then turn to you realizing that they didn't receive an answer. You can’t imagine what it must be like for them to be so far away from her, without knowing how she is. The idea makes you shiver.

You hurry to answer them while the nurse makes the last tests on Ona to make sure you haven’t missed anything.

"Who are you writing to?" asks Ona frowning.

"Joan and your mother"

She nods and you decide to take her boots off and to put her sneakers. You then help her put on a sweater and jacket, deciding together that she will shower at home. With the prescription and medication in hand, you can go home, much to your relief. Ona willingly lets herself be guided to your car, your arm around her waist and this allows you to realize how much she shouldn't feel good. Even if she's tactile, your girlfriend has a strong stubborn and autonomous side.

After a quick shower, you lay Ona down in bed, dressed in one of your sweatshirts. She seems tired, but not surprising given the situation. She took advantage of the drive to phone her parents and reassure them about her condition, Ella having been responsible for keeping the rest of the team informed.

Leaving her side for a few moments, you search the kitchen to make her a tea and bring her something sweet to eat.

"What do you need?" you ask her, looking at her carefully.

"Cuddle" she pouts and you can’t help but smile.

"Give me time to change too and I’ll be right there. In the meantime, take your medicine and eat something pretty girl."

You point to the tray that you placed next to her on the bed and even if she makes the grimace, Ona seizes her medication. You go to the bathroom to refresh yourself and put on clean clothes. In fact, you opt for jogging pants and a loose t-shirt to feel comfortable. After that, you go back to Ona and lie next to her. Ona doesn't lose a second before coming to cuddle in your arms and you gently caress her back with your fingertips.

You get lost in your thoughts, the only noises that can be heard are your two breaths and the noise of the cars that pass at the foot of the building from time to time.

"You scared me today"

Your voice is barely higher than a whisper, but in the calm of the apartment it seems to resonate quite loud. The nurse warned you to avoid too much sound or visual stimulation for Ona at the moment and you intend to stick to it. She comes up a little on you, so she can put her face in the hollow of your neck.

"I'm sorry" A few seconds pass before the brunette speaks again. "You stay the night?"

You snort and roll your eyes.

"Of course. As if I were going to leave you alone here under these circumstances. I wouldn’t want your mother to deprive me of her fidéua."

Ona giggles but you also notice that she begins to fall asleep. Deciding to let her rest, you add nothing, continuing to gently caress her back and hair.

"Sleep babygirl. I’m here to look after you."

Always.

#ona batlle #ona batlle x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #ona batlle imagine

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