#I don't know what the last one means so I'm ignoring it

[ceesimz]

Kissing a Fool

This is a classic sick fic - nothing too bad, a quick trip to the out of hours doctors but nothing extreme. (having major writer's anxiety right now so I'm really struggling to write and I kinda hate this, I know it's not my best but I hope it's enjoyable anyway)

If there was one thing that Alexia was, it was determined. That was what had gotten her to the place she was today, with countless trophies and awards in her possession, stadiums filled by fans adorning jerseys with her name and number, an endless amount of brands desperate to work with her, and millions around the world idolising her.

However, nobody was perfect.

Sometimes, Alexia's determination can, and will, bleed into pure stubbornnes. And that's when things can start to go a little downhill.

It all started one morning when she woke up beside you with a certain scratchiness in her throat and a dull ache behind her eyes. She ignored it, obviously.

Ignored it throughout your shared morning routine, paying you no mind when you asked if she was okay due to the disgruntled furrow in her brow and how she squinted uncomfortably with every slight increase of light. She also ignored it as she kept her sunglasses on whilst moving from her car to the main building for training, again acting none the wiser to the face you pulled at her as she walked around the facilities with the glasses still firmly planted and seemingly going nowhere anytime soon.

"Ale, you know you can't wear them for training?" You wonder amusedly as she holds the door to the locker room open for you. Shockingly, she doesn't reply, she just answers with a noise that can only be described as a huff. "If your head is hurting, take some pills before we start. Don't be stubborn."

"No. Todo está bien." She offers a tight-lipped smile as a consolation to her bare-faced lie, and the only thing you can do is sigh, nod, and leave her be until she finally gives in.

Though, in her world, giving in wasn't even a concept, nevermind an option. As expected, she woke up the next day feeling so much worse, to the point where she had no appetite and even if she wanted to eat, her throat was in way too much agony to simply just entertain that thought.

That was something you didn't realise though, because she normally had breakfast whilst you showered in the morning, meaning you didn't spot she had skipped that step. You also overlooked the fact she'd been completely non-verbal that day as she dared not to speak through fear of her voice failing her. It was only when you were rushing around, last minute of course, to pack your training bag when you needed her help.

"Ale, where are my new boots?" You called out from the bedroom, knowing she was at least somewhere in the flat. When you didn't get a response, you groaned frustratedly and marched out into the kitchen.

"Did you hear me?" You ask where she was seated at the kitchen island, slowly drinking a mug of honey and lemon tea whilst scrolling through her phone.

"I can't find my boots. Ale!"

Looking across at her from your place in the hallway by the front door, rooting through the storage cupboard beside it, Alexia shrugs half-heartedly.

"Okay, amazing, thanks for all your help. Don't blow up at me if we're late." You scoff at her, turning back to the cupboard.

Amidst your frantic search, you miss the way Alexia leans her body weight on the island counter in front of her as she stands, and the pained groan that goes with that. She walks over to the coffee table and pulls out the Nike box you were looking for from the bottom half of the unit, clearing her throat with a grimace before presenting it to you.

"Oh, thank god. Thanks, I'll be ready in literally just a minute, I swear." With a quick kiss to her cheek, you sprint back off to the bedroom to continue packing for the day.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Alexia fixes herself another honey and lemon tea that she purposely adds an ice cube to just so she can drink it before you come back in. It doesn't help at all though, and the realistic part of her mind immediately notices that is a huge red flag, but of course her workaholic mindset overrides it and shoves that thought to the side.

So when you come rushing back in, packed bag in hand, she offers a smile and leads you out of the apartment with a caring hand on your lower back.

Her untimely crash arrived later that day. The combination of a high fever and the symptoms that came with that and her illness, as well as the lack of food and the Barcelona sun, all colluded together to tear her down until all that was left was a lethargic and downtrodden shell of her.

You waited for what felt like forever as she showered, to the point where you were the only one left in the locker room. At some point she finally did walk out, her hair unbrushed and her face bright red and clammy despite the fact she had just showered, and her actions the past two days along with this appearance of hers caused alarm bells to ring in your head.

"Be honest, Alexia, how do you feel?" You question her pointedly, watching with a careful eye as she avoided your eyeline and cleared her throat for possibly the hundredth time that day.

"Fine." It was then that you realised that was the first time you'd actually heard her talk that day, and the sound of her voice sounded as comfortable as nails on a chalk board.

"Please, Ale, just be honest. You look awful." You tell her, to which she lets out a sharp breath, otherwise known as her attempt at a suppressed laugh. "What do you get out of lying about it? Nothing. If you're sick and feeling like shit, just admit it so we can figure out how to make you better."

The fact you said 'we' when talking about her being ill made the prospect of just dropping her act and accepting she's sick exceptionally more appealing, but she just couldn't do it. Tomorrow was an important Champion's League game, and there was no way she was going to miss it. Not a chance in hell.

"I am okay, I am coping. Let's go home." She managed to get out, swallowing harshly after speaking to choke down a gag due to the agonising burn of her throat.

"Will you at least take some medicine at home? There's no use feeling like this when there's things you can have to at least take the edge off." You try to compromise, knowing at the very least you will force some pills down her throat one way or the other.

She nods, finally admitting defeat to one little thing, and your stern persona softens a little. Under the light of the changing room, her face is pale apart from her rosy cheeks and there's a sheen to her forehead that indicates just how terrible she's feeling. And there was no point sugar-coating it, she really did look awful.

"Hey. Come here."

Offering your arms out for a hug, Alexia mumbles something you can't quite make out before stepping into your embrace and deflating with a deep sigh.

"It's all well and good hiding how you feel around the team, but not me. Please don't do it around me. A blind person could see you feel atrocious so please admit that and accept my help." You whisper, rubbing a hand up and down her back comfortingly.

"Don't want you to get sick." She mutters at the quietest volume she can, giving you a hint at just how much discomfort she was in.

"That doesn't matter to me. Let me take care of you. Please?" Hesitantly, she nods after a moment, so you pull back to get a good look at her face. What you're met with breaks your heart. "Oh, Ale. Let's get you home."

You do exactly that, demanding that she go get in bed the second you're through the door to your apartment. Now, in the comfort of her own home, you hope that she'll fully drop her guard down, but it seems a little trickier than you thought. She rejects the bed and settles for the sofa, though she grabs her laptop from the coffee table and opens it to start doing some work admin.

"What are you doing?" You ask when you come over with a glass of ice water and a pack of tablets.

"Work." She answers with a shrug. This was part of her routine, but you had guessed, incorrectly, that she would drop this part of the day considering how she was feeling.

"No, you should be resting." You tell her, sitting beside her and offering her the box of pills.

"I am not running on a football field anymore. I am on the couch like you asked. This is routine." Alexia answers. Her voice is barely there anymore, it was merely just a rasp, and the pain she hid was evident in each word.

"Alexia." You sigh disapprovingly, popping two tablets out of the packet for her. "If you're going to be like this, at least for the love of god take these pills."

She does as you say, swallowing them both with a grimace before turning her attention straight back to her laptop screen. You had tried your best to help her, but pressuring her further would only make the situation worse, so you relent and stifle a sigh. There was a little bit of guilt you felt at getting annoyed at her, but this was just who Alexia was. You didn't like this process, you despised it, but there would eventually be a time where she would come crawling back to you when her stubborn tendencies had taken it too far, you just hoped she was sensible about it.

It was undeniably difficult watching her as the afternoon bled into the evening, knowing at some point her meds had worn off and she was putting herself through torture for nothing. Still, she was adamant as ever that she was okay, so there was little you could do about it without causing an argument. The only positive was that she somewhat relaxed after eating less than a third of her dinner, cuddling up to you as the pair of you watched a film on the sofa.

Her blinks got slower and her eyelids drooped a little over halfway through though, so you decided it was time to usher her to bed. And if she refused, that would be your last straw before you blew up at her.

Thankfully, and quite surprisingly, she agreed and stood up before walking, very sluggishly, to your shared bedroom.

At her request, you make her a cup of the tea she'd had before and bring it to where she lay on her side once she'd done her routine, a hand covering her eyes to block any light. Placing the mug down on the table, you draw the curtains and sit beside her, one hand falling to her head to gently massage her scalp.

"Rest. Early night. Big game tomorrow." Alexia insists weakly, barely able to string a sentence together as she pats the space beside her for you to lay down.

"You've not taken any tablets, or drank your tea. I'm not resting until you do." You state, not-so-discreetly laying the back of your palm on her forehead to gauge her temperature. Her skin is burning, and you curse the pair of you for somehow not owning a thermometer in your flat. "Ale, you're really unwell."

"It's not too bad." She argues feebly, leaning up on shaky arms to sit up against the head board. You hand her the tea and tablets, watching as she winces even more than earlier whilst struggling to swallow the pills.

"Ale." You warn her. "I doubt you should even play tomorrow."

"No!" She croaks out, coughing afterwards. "I am playing. No other option."

Speechless at her defiance, you just shake your head and go about your own night routine. As you brush your teeth, you watch her through the crack in the door and see how she is when no one is around. Her face scrunches up every time she swallows, and her hand clutches at her throat too. Not only that, but you hear her let out strangled groans every so often whenever she moves, her body aching and her head pounding. This all indicates the exact kind of state she's in, and it's not one fit for a 90+ minute long, possibly intense, football game.

"Alexia, listen to me." You demand tenderly, sitting beside her again and taking her hand. "You are not well. Stop resisting that because you will only get worse. This game tomorrow, the rest of the team have it. I believe that absolutely, and I know you do too but you won't admit that aloud. I know what's going on in that head of yours; you're scared of letting people down and disappointing yourself, your family, me, and the fans. Well, I'll tell you. You won't let anyone down by not playing. People, and that includes me, just want you to be healthy. You can gaslight yourself into thinking you've not got a minor injury, but you can't do that in this situation. You need to slow down and rest before you end up in the back of an ambulance."

"It won't end like that." Alexia shakes her head.

"That was just an exaggeration, Ale. I have no doubt that you will be sensible and not let it get to that point. Please, for your own sake, prove me right." You sigh once more, flicking off the lamp to delve the room into darkness so you can settle for the night. "Get some sleep at least. I love you and I only want the best for you."

"Love you too."

The way she tucks herself up beside you for the night, her face buried in the gap between your neck and shoulder, tells you all you need to know. It's a subliminal sign of how much she needs you, a subconscious message that conveys how much she wants to give in to whatever illness she's got and let you take care of her. The thing is, she's not quite at that stage yet mentally.

So when you line up in the stadium tunnel the next day, a few people in between you both, you're staring daggers into the back of her head that she can surely sense.

Your attempts throughout the day to get her to skip just one match, where Barcelona were already winning 2-0 on aggregate, were completely futile because - shock horror! - she just would not listen. You gave her a piece of your mind multiple times, as did Irene and Marta and Mapi and other members of the Barcelona staff. What frustrated you most though, aside from Alexia's stubbornness, was Jona's willingness to put her on the pitch. He didn't think twice when Alexia confirmed with an apprehensive nod that she was well enough for the match today, and that's how you were in this situation now.

Throughout the whole first half, where Salma scored to make it 3-0 on aggregate, your eyes were on her any chance they could. By the 30th minute, her movements were sluggish and slightly lacklustre, you were adamant it was clear for everyone to see that playing today was not the right choice. Did that mean the referee or the match officials or Jona and his staff did anything about it? Absolutely not.

At a lull in the game, where the opposing goalkeeper was getting the ball for a goalkick, you jogged over to her and tugged on her jersey.

"You need to get off this pitch, Alexia. You are not fit to play." You warned her through gritted teeth before walking off without a response.

That didn't seem to deter her from continuing though, because she carried on playing like you hadn't spoken a word to her. Your fury only grew, and it took everything in you for it not to show through your actions in the game. You managed to suppress it until halftime, where you sprinted off the pitch to give Jona a lecture about the circumstances.

You were almost certain that, when Alexia walked back onto the pitch for the second half, there was steam coming out of your ears like a comedy sketch. If you thought your girlfriend looked awful the previous day, she looked even worse now.

"She snuck off to the toilets at halftime to... you know, throw up." Esmee reveals as you go to join the team huddle. That revelation just added fuel to the fire.

After the huddle, you carefully grasped her arm to give her another warning.

"Alexia, I know you were sick at the break. You need to get off the pitch, you are worrying me now." You choose a softer approach, hoping it'll get through to her.

"No. Leave it." She grunted, jogging away towards her starting position.

Turns out, as you had told her for the past 72 hours, that statement could not be more wrong. By the 60th minute, her movements were lethargic and lacked any strength or power, and each kick of the ball stole more energy from her already severely depleted endurance. Every step, every little movement felt like she was fighting a losing battle, and it was obvious to everybody at this point. Any longer and she would have had to been taken off on a stretcher.

But finally, finally, it seemed concerns were raised about her because she was substituted off. Alexia decided now was the time to give in, because truthfully she had never felt worse in her life.

The words from the staff and her teammates around her simply weren't registering in her head as she grabbed a puffer coat, zipped it up to her chin with the hood up, and staggered down the tunnel. She was freezing cold, yet to the touch of anyone else she was sure they'd be burnt at how hot her skin was. Stumbling through the door of the physio room, she just about made it to one of the beds before she collapsed down onto it.

By the time one of the team doctors caught up to her, she was shivering at an extreme level, also unable to stop the pathetic whimpers and whines that left her. The next period of time was a blur as the medics worked around her, urging her to take off the jacket as a cold cloth was draped across her neck and a bottle of water with electrolytes in it was handed to her. She sipped at it periodically, eyes tightly shut as the effect of her defiance ripped through her. With not much else to do right now but bask in self-pity, she was filled with regret and shame for letting it get to this point, where she couldn't even finish a game. If you were to ask her now, not that she could really talk, she would confess that she absolutely should not have played today.

To put it simply, she had exerted herself far too much and pushed way beyond the limits that her health could handle. Her actions were dangerous, to no one other than herself, and that paired with the worry people no doubt felt for her, eventually led to tears seeping from her eyes. She would never admit that they were mostly a result of how unwell she was feeling, no, she wasn't at that point yet.

The only saving grace in this whole thing was when you rushed into the room once the match was over. When you approached her, her eyes were still closed and she appeared to be stuck in some kind of trance. Your hand on her waist didn't alert her, neither did the hand that brushed her hair out of her face where it stuck to her forehead.

"Ale?" You whispered, jumping a little when her eyes flew open.

There was no other reaction from her though, she just looked at you with wide, frantic, fearful eyes that seemed to plead for help. It was then that you realised the trance she was in was a state of shock, and it instilled fear in you too.

"We think it's best we take her to the out of hours doctors. She has symptoms of tonsillitis, I doubt it is anything more severe than that, and it's just been made worse by playing today and not resting." One of the members of the medical team advised, to which you nodded instantly.

"Yeah, absolutely. Can someone drive us there please?" You asked, glancing back down at your girlfriend to see her eyes had shut again as more tears streamed from them. You took one of her hands and cupped her cheek, your thumb gently stroking over the burning skin of her face.

"Of course. We'll have it outside in a few minutes."

It was a struggle trying to get her to the car, but eventually you were in the backseat with her leaning heavily against you, her head on your shoulder. You clutched at her hand for the whole drive, filled with intense concern for the woman beside you. She could barely keep her eyes open, nevermind talk or move. To sum it up, she was ruined. And though, rationally, you knew it was all her own doing, you couldn't help but feel somewhat at fault for it getting this bad. Ultimately, there were lessons to be learnt for the both of you, and you'd be damned if you weren't going to do better next time. You never wanted to go through this again, nor did you ever want to even imagine Alexia this sick again.

The team doctor that accompanied you explained the situation to the receptionist at the sign-in desk, and fortunately there was a doctor available immediately for Alexia to see. That was a huge weight off your shoulders, literally, because the nurses helped to guide Alexia to the consultation room and assisted her in laying down on the bed.

It was quickly decided that giving Alexia an IV was the best way to start as it would provide her with fluids that she had lacked recently, before the doctor assessed how bad her tonsillitis was. He then prescribed her a round of strong antibiotics for her to take for the next ten days, something that would be a struggle due to the condition her throat was in but she'd get it done.

Now in proper care receiving treatment, Alexia was feeling slightly better and a lot less spaced out. The staff member from Barca had left a while ago once Alexia had been seen to, and for the moment the doctor had stepped out of the room to get her tablets. That left the pair of you alone now, for the first time since before the game earlier.

You were stood beside her bed, still grasping tightly to one hand as the other repeatedly ran over her hair to comfort her. Though, out of nowhere, Alexia rolled over and it worried your for a moment, thinking she might be sick, but she only dropped your hand and pulled you closer by the waist so that she could hide her face in your jersey covered stomach. With a soft smile, you let her rest there, glad she was doing well now.

No words needed to be uttered, it was a moment of silent intimacy that allowed both of you to process the events that had occurred and begin to decompress from the stress of it all. There was no doubt in your mind that your girlfriend was still feeling rougher than ever, but there was comfort found in the fact that she wasn't hiding her true feelings now. What she needed was you, that's all she wanted all along, and in this moment now she started to think she was borderline crazy for denying herself from that.

You could pin-point the exact moment she had that thought, because despite her weakness, she managed to pull you tighter to herself. Additionally, you felt her body deflate as she sighed into your shirt.

"Sorry."

Through her limited words that you had quickly grown accustomed to over the past few days, you know there are about a hundred other things she wants to say in this moment, but her voice and her vocabulary fail her. You couldn't blame her or fault her though, you never could, because that one word placed a plaster over an anxious crack that had formed with everything that had occurred.

"It's alright, Ale. I'm just glad you're on the mend now." She leans back a little and looks up at you with anxious, bloodshot eyes, and you understand the message she's trying to communicate. Your heart plunged at the broken sight of her, but you quickly reminded yourself this wasn't the time for that. You needed to relax almost as much as she did. "Don't worry about it, my love. Just relax for now, that's all I ask of you."

That seems to do the trick, because she settles back down afterwards and the last bout of stress leaves her body. Despite her weakened movements, her grip on your waist never faltered. The simple fact of it all was that you both needed the proximity right now. Love languages always came across as a bit of a farce to you both, but it was hard to deny that right now one of them was being portrayed at its utmost strength.

There was one last thing, however, that you had to do to settle those last niggling anxieties.

You move out of Alexia's space momentarily, smiling slightly at the disapproving mewl she lets out, and she watches with one eye as you pull up a chair beside her so that you're at a more equal level. She's still lay on her side facing you, one side of her face smushed against the bed which makes you let out a quiet giggle that pulls a confused look out of Alexia.

"You look a bit cute right now." You tell her, grinning when she huffed and closed her eyes. From your new position, you raise a hand and slowly start tracing your index finger up over her nose and down the right side of her face, repeating the movement over and over again. "I love you."

Her eyes opened once more at the statement you uttered, a hint of a genuine smile blooming on her face for what might be the first time that day.

"Same." Was all she could mumble, making you laugh and the sound of it caused her smile to grow.

"I feel bad for laughing but I can't help it." You somewhat apologise, and Alexia rolls her eyes jokingly.

When she gazes at you again, you're completely overcome with love and admiration for her, knowing there's not a soul on earth you could adore in the same way you do for her. At that, you lean forward to press your lips against hers, but upon first contact, she jolts away with wide eyes.

"No, amor." She grumbled despite the pain it caused her.

"Why not?" You wondered, feeling a little butt hurt at the rejection.

"You will get sick." The midfielder states like it's an obvious fact. Well, she was wrong.

"No I won't." You claim with a sly grin. When she frowned in confusion, you giggled. "I had my tonsils removed when I was younger."

A look of understanding and relief crosses her face, before she smiles and pouts up at you dramatically. To deny her now would be sinful. Her lips are a little chapped, but in the grand scheme of things, that minor fact is like a drop in the ocean, because your girlfriend is here, and she's safe, and she's going to get better, and most importantly of all, she's in love with you. In sickness and in health, right?

"You really are as white as a piece of paper, Ale."

"Stop being mean."

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas one shot #alexia putellas #woso #woso community #woso imagine

[another-random-paradise]

Your writing was adorable! I have a headcanon request for TWST. Feel free to ignore if it's not interesting, I won't mind. (￣▽￣)=3

Lilia, Leona, Azul (or whomever as long as Lilia is there)'s reaction to crush!reader sleepily telling them they want to marry them one day.

I'm a sap for mushy things. ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

A sleepy confession

Thank you so much for the request, it's adorable!! and of course, thank you for the compliments too! I'm a sucker for mushy things too, so this was so much fun to write!

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Crush!Reader sleepily telling him, they want to marry him

Characters: Lillia, Leona, Azul

Format: Headcanons

Warnings: None that i can think off

Lillia

-you probably found silver asleep somewhere comfortable and instead of waking him up like usual (cause you're a good friend) you decide to also lay down and sleep... You most likely had History with professor Trein before this.

-Lillia just happened to be nearby, or maybe he was keeping an eye on silver, yk, like a good dad :D

- If you're napping under a tree, he might just be sitting on one of the branches

-You'd sleepily look up to him on the branches, as the old fae smiles down at you, and you, probably already half a sleep and maybe even thinking it's a dream, mumble out a soft "I wanna marry you one day.." 

-poor guy almost fell out off the tree

-you can't just do that to his old heart!! You can and you did

-his expression would soften, like he'd still be smiling, but it wouldn't be his typical trickster kinda smile (please tell me you know what i mean)

-Despite his usual attitude, I feel like he was very worried about loving you. I'm a huge believer in the Idea that fae usually only fall in love once, so after Meleanor, he believed that was it, he'd never love again. And then you came into his life, like a shining star, guiding him out of the darkness.  

-While he was grateful that he got a second chance at love, especially with someone as amazing as you, it's also nerve wrecking for him. The last and only time before this, he had his heart broken and ended up raising her son. Just the thought of the same thing happening again terrified him.

-But after what you just said, he won't need to worry about that anymore, right?

-Now he just needs to come up with the best way to confess... maybe he could cook you something! 

Leona

-Due to Leona being a bit of a tsundere, I don't feel like he'd get you to cuddle/sleep with him before officially dating

-BUT, if you two got paired together for a project, especially if it's in the botanical garden, chances are very high, you are doing the project and he's napping

-and doing a project by yourself gets you tired, especially one meant for magic as a magicless student, so you eventually lie down next to him

-due to his sensitive hearing, he lazily opens eyes, and sees you, already half asleep, looking at him, confusing him at first not that he's complaining, till.. "Despite you making me do this project by myself, i somehow i still wanna marry you some day" and just like that you're asleep.

-He, on the other hand, is suddenly very wide awake. 

-what?? you didn't mean that, right?? that's just the tiredness speaking, right?? you couldn't have meant that, right? why, or rather how, could you like him of all people?....He can't imagine being anyone's, let alone your, first choice. He's so used to being second.

-For the first time in forever, he is fully awake and can't go back to sleep, just what are you doing to him, Herbivore? 

-But this means you like him back, right? alright fine, he'll put some work into confessing, just don't expect anything to grand

-He'd still be awake once you wake up again, much to your confusion, but still deliberately refuse to help. Not a word of what you said is spoken, but if you look closely enough you'll see the blush on his cheeks!

Azul

-You wanted to rest after a long day, maybe even after a long shift at the mostro lounge, and Azul was gracious enough to let you rest on one of the couches in the VIP room, while he worked. He actually wanted to appear like a gentleman in front of you and impress you.

-You can't convince me that those couches aren't comfortable. Which is why you almost immediately fall asleep the moment you lay down.

-But before you do, you make one last comment "I already want to marry you one day as is, but if it means I get to rest like this every night, I'll buy the ring tomorrow"

-If a student walked in right now, they might just confuse him with a crashed pc; or maybe with riddle, considering how red he is

-Just completely stops everything he's doing, he's in shock. he doesn't believe he can actually be loved

-It genuinely shocks him so much that you actually like him back, let alone want to marry him, but he can't say he isn't happy! So him being even more of a gentleman to you and giving you countless discounts worked! (You actually already liked him before that! but he was to busy being insecure to notice)

-Immediately starts working on a relationship contract for you two, hell, you said you want to marry him, right?? might as well start working on the marriage certificate!

-He continues to be absolutely flustered as he writes the two contracts, if either of the twins saw him right now, he'd never hear the end of it!

-Prepare to be asked to dinner at the most romantic table in the mostro lounge with Azul, where he will then ask you out and discusses your relationship as if it was a business meeting :)

Ahhhh my first request, thank you so much again for your kind words and the adorable request, I truly hope i lived up to it's greatness <3

I'm still in book 4, so i tried to write Lilia as in-character as possible based on what i saw of him during events and from other writers :)

feedback is welcomed, just be Kind! Hope you all have a lovely day/night!

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland headcanons #twst headcanons #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #lillia vanrouge x reader #lillia vanrouge #leona kingsholar x reader #lillia x reader #leona x reader #leona kingscholar #twst leona #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto #twst azul #headcanons #x reader #writing #request #requests

[strawberrycarat]

CCXP Mexico - Omelete Stage HOTD

So, I've seen a lot of people complaining about the Omelete stage yesterday... and I, honestly, as a Mexican, I agree. There was someone else saying some pro-things to it, and I do agree in some points, but I disagree in others.

First of all, you must know that yes, Mexicans are a more effusive public, so I was kind of surprised they all behave well (trust me, we can be more chaotic). I think the problem was the hosts and the event arrangements.

We're not as punctual as we should, in any event, honestly. Usually we know that if something is set to, I don't know, 10am, it usually starts 10:30 or something. So I wasn't surprised they started late. What did surprised me was the chaos during the interview (yes, it is a more informal stage, but that doesn't mean the host should be less professional - I didn't see the same problem in Brasil, for example, and it was a shock to see two of the hosts were the same that last year). Some of the questions, to my own personal taste, were meaningless (like the same boring questions the actors have already answer a lot - brasil CCXP included - like which team are you, etc.). Some questions were alright (like the one of the makeup/hair, etc.), but it did seem unconfortable for the actors in some points of the interview - like telling Ewan many girls would like him to stay in their houses - there was something similar in Brasil, but I think it was better managed. —Also, I felt like the girls-hosts were competing for attention? I don't know - the men seemed a bit ignored—...

Now, I do disagree in a point someone said before. It doesn't matter if we're in Mexico, there are host that can speak perfect English and that don't have the problem of the language barrier. I think they needed to choose better hosting and I don't know if it was a good choice to have so many hosts (4 was too much - I think 1 or 2 that knew how to handle the interview and the audience should've been a wise choice - specially since they were 4 cast members - and I think for the time they didn't gave the actors a lot of time - which is a shame since they travelled all the way here). One of the host asked the questions of the teams and after Tom, I saw Ewan taking his mic, but one of the hosts started to talk and she didn't let him finish).

I'm not surprised Ewan's ear-thing failed, but I think he did handled so well and he seemed so polite to the technician that went to change it in the middle of the interview.

Another thing that was con: it was on Sunday and the CCXP announced the actors one week before the event. Mexico is a huge country and to make that travel in such a short notice is hard to do (money, arrangements for an hotel, etc). And, even if there were a lot of people from other States going to the CCXP, they probably left for their homes on Sunday because Monday is a work-day. So I think that's why it was more empty than other days.

Oh, and the arrangements. I think they did have a better arrangement in Brasil. Here, the actors had to run from one stage to another (the omelet thing was at 5:15 and the other stage at 6:00 - and since the first one started super late...). I think it would've been better if they had the omelet stage before (or even on Saturday) to have all the fans concentrating in one of them and not choosing one.

Also, the thunder stage seemed more professional - there was one host who seemed to concentrate in more elaborate questions and the mariachi at the end - genius!

I really hope this doesn't discourage the actors from coming again. I think, since it was the first time with the CCXP it was meant to have many errors, but in general I think it was a good event. I just think they could've do better with the HOTD cast - it was a shame. The actors were sweethearts, though, and I am glad they liked Mexico - I can't wait to see all the other interviews they did !

Anyway, it was MY opinion, as a Mexican who wasn't able to go (again - time, money and work didn't allowed me), but who was refreshing all the time to see every detail of the event.

#hotd #ewan mitchell #mexico #house of the dragon #tom glynn carney #eve best #steve toussaint #opinion #ccxp méxico #ccxp24

[seramilla]

Hello!

Submitting a request for a snippet that involves Vaggie and Emily dating and both wanting to date Charlie. However, Charlie (despite having a crush on both of them) decides to not get in the way of a relationship, assuming angels don't do polyamory. Terrible flirting from Vaggie and Emily ensues and is met with obliviousness, confusion, and nobly pining from a distance from Charlie

Charlie spends a lot of quality time with Vaggie and Emily in Heaven these days. Her visits aren't just reserved to the delegations anymore. Ever since awkwardly introducing herself to the couple during the last big event, she'll find any and all excuses to come see them in Heaven. Running an errand for her dad, helping plan the next transferal of souls from her redemption program, or just wanting to visit the Heaven zoo for the fourth time in less than a month -- none of her efforts are subtle. Vaggie and Emily aren't complaining. They enjoy spending time with her; even if the three of them are completely hopeless at admitting the real reason why Charlie likes to visit so much.

Charlie just enjoys spending time with them; that's what she'll say, anyway, anytime they ask. Vaggie hasn't missed the soft blushes and subtle glances Charlie shoots their way when she and Emily show affection in public. More than once, Emily has tried to brush against Charlie's hand, or take her hand in her own, in a comforting gesture, so that she can get closer. Charlie will usually "eep!" and pull away rapidly, pretending to spot something else of interest to her, or ignore it entirely.

Vaggie will show a little more tact; the operative word being a little. She'll compliment Charlie, or get up real close, and say how pretty the princess looks that day, or if she did something different with her hair (Charlie rarely does anything different with her hair). Charlie also takes this as an opportunity to NOPE the heck out of there. Her shyness isn't lost on either angel. The problem is, they just don't know how to fix it.

Vaggie and Emily aren't helping; they can tell Charlie wants to get closer. They aren't blind. But both angels have about as much charisma as a wet paper bag. Vaggie probably has slightly more experience dating, since she and Lute used to be...sort of a thing? Unofficially? Vaggie doesn't think making out behind the Exterminator barracks counts as dating, but Emily says it's more than she knows. Vaggie insists that doesn't mean she knows how to gain the affections of a literal princess. What she and Lute had was toxic. Emily is her first real relationship; adding another to their partnership is territory yet uncharted.

This goes on long enough, that Vaggie starts to get a little...frustrated. Charlie enjoys spending time with them. She cares for them. They care about her. It's so obvious! She showers them with gifts, spends every spare moment she has in Heaven with them, what more is there to understand? The least she can do is take a little bit of a hint. It's not Charlie's fault, or her or Emily's fault. There is a lot of stigma between Heaven and Hell probably left to unpack. Vaggie realizes, if Emily and Charlie aren't going to make that first step, then she decides to just go for it.

The next time Charlie comes to visit, and she insists she wants to see the koalas again, Vaggie remembers there is a convenient bench to sit on right in front of the exhibit. Forming a plan in her head, Vaggie agrees, and when they get there, Vaggie puts her scheme in motion. Once Charlie has had her koala fix for the day, she pulls Charlie and Emily over to the bench by the hand, so they can relax, and maybe just talk.

Charlie is the one to break the silence first.

"Thank you both for humoring me," she says, shyly pushing a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear. "I know you can probably see this anytime you want. But you always still bring me here. I'm sorry if you're getting sick of it by now."

"Of course not, Charlie," Vaggie says, taking Charlie's hands in hers. "We love making you happy."

Like clockwork, Charlie's face is infused with a flush, the rest of her skin rivaling the color of her cheeks. She tries to yank her hands away from Vaggie, and look away, toward some other exhibit she can pretend to be interested in. But Vaggie has the grip of a warrior, and doesn't let her pull away.

"We enjoy spending time with you. A lot. You know that, right?" Vaggie asks.

"Yeah," Emily says, a little emboldened by Vaggie's statement. "We love to see you happy, Charlie."

"Umm...!" Charlie squeaks, turning this way and that, not exactly certain what to say in this situation. She doesn't look...uncomfortable, exactly? Not like their forwardness is unpleasant for her, or anything. Just...confused? Unsure how to respond? Worried?

"Th-thank you!" Charlie says, trying to move beyond her own awkwardness. "I really appreciate you both! I do! But you don't have to do all this for me!"

Really sensing she needs to get the message across now, for fear of scaring Charlie away again, Vaggie pushes past her own intense embarrassment, and pulls Charlie closer. Emily sits behind Charlie on the bench, hand on the demi-angel's shoulder, providing emotional support for Vaggie from the rear, as it were.

"We like doing it," Vaggie says, taking a big gulp, before the point of no return happens at the utterance of her next words. "We like you."

"Oh, fuck," Charlie says under her breath, before letting loose another "eep!" sound, because she realizes she'd just uttered a curse in Heaven. She's never done that before. "Sorry! Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! Vaggie, Emily! Please, forgive me! Forget I said that."

Vaggie giggles. Charlie's awkwardness is adorable. It breaks whatever spell had been holding Vaggie herself back. She smiles, leaning closer to Charlie's face.

"You're so cute, Charlie. It's okay. Can I kiss you?"

Maybe Charlie's spell broke with Vaggie's request. She's still blushing, but staring directly at Vaggie's lips, as if in a trance. She swallows hard, and nods, and Vaggie decides to close the distance.

Charlie's mouth is warm, and inviting, and seems to draw Vaggie in deeper with every breath. Charlie hums into her mouth, and sort of chases Vaggie's lips a little, when the angel finally pulls away. Charlie's left with a rather pleased, rather floaty expression on her face. Emily takes this as her opening, and leans over Charlie's shoulder, and pecks the corner of her mouth, near her cheek.

"Okay?" Emily asks. Charlie is still blushing, and takes a minute to find her voice.

"Ye-yeah," Charlie says, a goofy grin spreading from ear to ear. Then, almost as if she's coming out of it, she gasps, grabbing her hands back from Vaggie so she can hold them to her mouth. "Wait! Wait! Is this okay? Is this something angels do? Is this allowed? Am I going to--?"

"Charlie, relax," Vaggie says, drawing Charlie's attention back to her face. Lucifer's daughter looks almost panicked, like she's just broken a terrible taboo. "There's nothing wrong with this. You're okay!"

"You mean I'm not going to be smited...? Smoted...? ...Smitten? What's the word?"

"Well, we are rather smitten with you," Emily says, leaning in to Charlie's ear again to whisper against her skin. Her breath ghosts against Charlie's flesh and she squeaks again. "But it's not a sin, if that's what you're wondering."

Charlie practically falls over in embarrassment. She's half-curled into herself by this point, trying to hide her face with her hands, unable to speak, overwhelmed that two incredibly beautiful women she's crushed on for almost a year are flirting with her.

"I don't even know how to begin to handle this," Charlie admits. Vaggie pulls her back out of her balled-up state, and brings her face back up to hers.

"It's okay. You'll figure it out. We've liked you for a really long time, you know?"

"You have?" Charlie squeaks.

Emily and Vaggie both nod in turn. "Of course," Vaggie says. "Why else do you think we're so awkward around you?"

"Oh, Satan...umm, I guess that makes sense. Can-can I kiss you again?"

"Of course, sweetie." Vaggie draws Charlie in again, hand on her flushed cheek. Vaggie melds her lips with hers, and Charlie melts for the second...no, third time that day. This time, she kisses back.

#hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #vaggie #emily hazbin hotel #ask #fan theories #chaggily #lute hazbin hotel #vaggie dated emily au

[arliedraws]

I find it many things weird in Harry Potter, in general the plot holes are everywhere and things when you think about them just don't make much sense, even in storytelling perspective, and consistency.

One thing that I find appalling is how Sirius didn't notice the scarring on Harry's hand, from Umbridges lines. It's established canonically they're lasting scars. Sirius already had to watch from the literal shadows how Harry was enrolled in that tournament, already fearing for his godsons life bc he suspected Voldemort was involved. How couldn't any responsible guardian, not notice Harry was physically abused, again, under Dumbledores nose, but away from Sirius direct influence to be able to do anything. Then on top of that, Snape is gonna to do the occlumensy lessons, and while Sirius knew that was necessary, I mean, he was outraged when he heared Snape stopped it, but ok, he let it all slide? If I were Sirius I would have pulled Harry out myself for that year, enough is enough. If Dumbledores presence didn't prevent Harry's suffering, in fact his choices add to Harry's real physical abuse (Dursleys, certain teachers). Sirius could educate Harry theoretical until Umbridge was gone. Harrry was save enough in Grimmauld during christmas and the summer so why not.

Its like those I mustn't tell lies scars only are there when needed and then forgotten during times of the plot supporting characters might have reacted to them, like Sirius or whomever. Sirius is a genius wizard but can't turn into an unassuming anonymous figure to go outside, like Hermione did to Ron's features with just her wand and spells in b7, negating need for polyjuice, it's his dog form or permanent housearrest (which leads to disintegration of his mind /character and then he dies)

At some point I'm really suspect this is character driven anymore and just JKs incompetence to consistently implement Sirius's character. Like you already said somewhere here, he is a miracle character. Too clever, too bright, too loyal to continue in the story JK wanted to tell like you said somewhere before. I have a feeling JK didn't know what to do with Sirius, denigrated him and his character and then killed him off. His best role at the end to fulfill is to reinforce Harry's suffering and loneliness it seems, while Sirius actually was the main hope of Harry in the heart of the series. So meaningless!

While I love character metas, I think JK is a meanspirited woman, I always had that notion bc she reacted in some ways, even before the whole modern eh, shenanigans. And that meanness, pettiness and inconclusive attitude reflect in hps worldbuilding.

I agree with several points here!

If Sirius had been in a better mental space, I agree that he would have noticed the scars from the blood quill. However, we could also interpret this as Sirius being exceptionally depressed. Now, I’m not defending JKR here, but one thing we do have to remember is that Sirius was a convicted murderer and Harry’s legal guardians were the Dursleys. Sirius literally has no say in what Harry does. Sirius is not a person with rights—in the eyes of the law, he is due to have his soul sucked out. Anytime Sirius makes a decision on Harry’s behalf, it’s a courtesy thing, not a legal guardian thing. Unfortunately. It’s gross to say, but legally, Molly has the same rights as Sirius to tell Harry what to do—which is, gross.

Also, sure, Sirius could go out of number 12 in disguise but he’s in hiding because he knows he can’t risk his own safety for Harry’s sake. Dumbledore has made it very clear that Sirius is not to leave, and frankly, by the way Harry believed he had to rescue Sirius, this was actually probably the right call. Sirius is the most important person to Harry (and likewise), and if Sirius were taken captive by either the Ministry or Voldemort, Harry would done something unwise (which…he did). I’m not arguing that this is how it should have gone down, but theoretically (if you ignore the importance of mental health and stability lol), this should have been the right call.

But the point is, Voldemort’s ability to manipulate people and destroy friendships is what killed Sirius. Voldemort manipulated Dumbledore who thought he was smarter than Voldemort; Dumbledore prioritized keeping Harry alive but sacrificed Sirius in the end. I do think JKR punishes Sirius for being smart and attractive (lol), calling him rash when he’s really…not, but I think it’s important to recognize that even the smartest, most caring people can make mistakes and overlook the pain of the people they love most.

I think Sirius is partially in denial about some of Harry’s struggles. As a man of action, Sirius’s inclination is to fix things, and when he cannot fix in the way he believes is necessary, he shuts down. He comes alive at the end of OotP when he is able to help in the way he wants—and then JKR kills him for it lol.

Anyway, just some thoughts. I don’t actually think Sirius was behaving out-of-character, but I think JKR was unmerciful in putting this fictional character into situations that brought out the worst in him because it served the plot. Just my two cents though!

#sirius black #asks #hp meta

[etherealily]

𝟡 𝕝𝕚𝕧𝕖𝕤 // Nate Jacobs.

Nate Jacobs + Fem!reader. Darker. SFW, but discretion advised.

Part 1 : Whiplash (thanks for the love on there)

You do NOT have permission to repost and/or translate any of my fics.

Desc. : You should be grateful.

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He wasn't supposed to text you. He was supposed to take the beating you'd given him for being a prick, like a man, and shut the fuck up about it.

But here you were, midnight, staring at the chat that had started it all.

'yo, u up?'

You rolled your eyes, going back to your scrolling.

'I hate seenzoners.'

You liked his message.

'That's so much worse.'

'The fuck do u want?'

Nate Jacobs sent a voice message.

You could have just ignored it. You could just block him. You could just… stop. But the allure was far too much. The urge of finding out what he wanted was too strong.

"Guess where I am."

He could've just texted that. No need for a voice message, but he was Nate Jacobs.

"I don't know, the psych ward?"

"You wanna know? You'll have to drive and follow my instructions, though. You trust me enough for that?"

Ha. No fucking chance. "No, I'm good, thanks."

"Oh, so you'll text me, but won't see me in person?"

His voice was oddly sultry, as if he'd either just woken up or hadn't slept for days. Most likely the second one.

"Bingo. Go to sleep, Jacobs."

And then he sent you a picture of him from the bleachers of your school's football stadium - how the fuck did he get in?

"C'mon, don't you want to see what our school looks like at night?"

Uh, yes. But with him? No.

"It's 12:05, ASSHOLE. No fucking way."

"This is the scene where you cave and meet me and we have a cute little nighttime school montage where we sit and talk about life."

You listened to that message a good four times before you stopped laughing.

"This is the scene where I block you."

"I will come over if you don't come to the school. Uh, y'know, if you want your parents to think you're fooling around with the QB."

"I will literally shoot you if you come within fifty feet of my house."

"Come. I'll make it worth your while."

Was it possible to hear smirks?

"I'm not coming, Nate."

No way he was actually at the high school. It was probably an insanely good edit.

"You will be."

The FUCK was that supposed to mean? Not like he could force you to show up.

"Wanna bet?"

"Sure. Fifty bucks says you show up to the high school tonight."

"Not blowing fifty bucks on anything, even if I do win."

"What's it going to take for you to come? Look, I-I know it's been weird, and I might've scared you, but that's… that wasn't my intention, I swear."

Yeah, his intention was just to show you what his blood looked like. You liked his message once more, rolling your eyes.

"Dude, seriously, I swear, I'm not like, a serial killer or anything. You can bring pepper spray, a taser, whatever, if it makes you feel better. I'm just- okay, fuck, you're right. Dumb idea, trying to convince you like this."

Wait, okay, good. That was good. He was getting the message.

Another voice message.

"I forgot who I was talking to. You leave me no choice."

"What?" No.

And then, you received a video. He was teetering off the edge of the top-most row of bleachers. With a gun at his head.

"Come on, Y/N, this is getting really sad, that the only way I can grab your attention is by almost killing myself."

"I don't care. Do whatever. Not falling for it this time."

═════════════════════ ⋆♠️⋆ ═══════════════════

"FUCK!", you yelled, as you found yourself running frantically through the school football field for the second time in two weeks.

You'd actually kept your word for a while, pushing out every Nate-related thought for a good night's sleep - you didn't fall for it.

Until McKay called and informed you that Nate wasn't picking up his phone - and that his last message was something along the lines of : 'Call Y/N if you don't hear from me in the next couple of minutes'.

He was deranged. Playing Russian Roulette with his own life was absolutely deranged.

"You actually showed."

GOOD, he was still alive, meaning you could kill him.

You didn't speak. That would simply complicate things, because then you'd have to look at him.

"Plus, you didn't flinch when you saw me. Think that's a win for me in the trust department."

You stood there, glaring at him as he jumped down from the bleachers, even doing that dangerously, as if he was a cat with nine lives, or he was playing a video game and would just respawn.

"You know, you could say something."

He wasn't getting impatient, though, like his tone was trying to portray. No, he was getting more amused. He liked this. He liked the fact that he got you to come to a basically abandoned-for-the-holidays-high school at midnight. He reveled in it.

"Like hey, Nate, thanks for convincing me to actually live a little for a change instead of staying cooped up in my house.", he suggested.

You punched him.

Yeah. You kept running across that field till you were close enough and you punched him right then and there.

You full-on punched him, shoved him back, slapped him, clawed at him. "Stop FUCKING doing this to me! STOP! You can't FUCKING do this to me!", you screamed, hitting him repeatedly on his chest.

He took every beating, and the fact that it seemed he was trying not to laugh just egged you on even more to actually kill him, make his nose bleed, make his head fall clean off his egotistical body.

Eventually, though, it seemed even Nate Jacobs had his limit. He grappled against your hands as he held them between both your chests, clenching his jaw. He wouldn't risk saying anything, seeing as your eyes were already burning with tears.

"You…", you cried out as he shifted his grip on your hands to only one hand, wrapping the other around you. "…Can't keep…"

"Shh, shh, I know.", he muttered as he rested his chin on your head. "Shh, I had to."

"No, you didn't."

He kissed your head, then your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, and stopped for a moment, hovering over your lips but not touching them, as though he was more scared than you were. "You know I did."

You wondered if he could taste the tears, whether he relished it. Knowing what little you did of him, he might have.

"I would've come."

"No, you wouldn't have. Shh." He was right, but there had to be some other way.

"You know what, sweetheart?"

It was sickening how he could do this to you and then use words of endearment against you.

"You should actually be grateful."

And that's when you noticed that he was actually gripping onto your hair, tightening it when your face didn't show any contortion due to pain (only contortion due to unbridled rage and the urge to stab him with your car keys).

"I usually hurt people to get what I want. With you, I'm hurting myself."

You fought the urge to say 'so fucking what?'

"You're not bleeding, baby, that's what you don't get. You're untouched, and safe, and not bleeding. Me, however?"

What was his point? That he was being a gentleman by scaring you half to death instead of having a normal adult conversation?

"I'm bleeding. I'm hurt. I'm in pain. But I'm still holding you."

He said it with exaggerated magnanimity, like he was doing you a favour, or something, like all your problems, trauma, worries, stress, had just disappeared because he was holding you in his 'big strong arms'.

"Then stop!"

"Neither of us wants me to stop holding you."

"I do."

He grinned, knowingly, with a subtle shake of his head. "No, you don't."

"Let me go."

"No."

"Let me go, Nate."

"Fine. Because you called me Nate and not Jacobs.", he nodded, letting go of you and throwing up his arms. "Don't hit me again."

"Was McKay in on this?"

He frowned momentarily, before realization swept over his face. "Shit. Yeah, no, he wasn't. I should text him, huh?"

Oh, now he was asking if he should be a courteous human being?

You watched him loathingly, as he typed out what you guessed was a half-assed apology.

'Sorry, McKay, I'm good, man. Chicks, y'know?' or some absolutely fucked up shit like that, to be sure.

"Done. Now, will you stop being so square and enjoy the fact that you're here at school at midnight?"

"What?" Enjoy?

"I'll bet this is your first time out at midnight period, let alone your first time out at midnight somewhere you're not legally supposed to be."

"Why am I here?"

The condescending look he gave you set your teeth on edge. 'Oh, poor, naive girl. Of course she doesn't even know why she's here. This is why I told her to stay in my grasp. She never listens.'

FUCKING ASSHOLE.

"You're my good luck charm. My good luck charm, but I heard you're fucking Shane. You can't be doing that."

The softness in his movements, the gentleness, it had either completely stopped, or entirely overshadowed the fact that he had put you through yet another nerve-wracking event that would raise your blood pressure.

Shane who, Shane who, Shane- oh. Shane.

Not so much fucking as went on one date with, but it was better for everyone if Nate thought you had already gone that far.

"Why not?"

"He's a punk."

"You're one to talk."

"Look, he plays defense. What if you're just, like, intensely fortunate? Can't have him sneak in a quickie before the game and then he's lucky."

It's like he wanted you to punch him again.

"He's on your team. You'll win anyway."

He shrugged, as though he could see where you were coming from, but was about to respectfully absolutely ruin your argument.

"I like to win."

"Not a team player, are you?"

"Never claimed to be."

══════════════════════ ⋆♠️⋆ ═══════════════════

He was so clearly getting frustrated with your lack of response - the initial dopamine and thrill of being a disgusting element of surprise by shooting/not-shooting himself in the head gone.

But what could you say?

You'd already ghosted Shane after the date had tanked, so technically there was no reason for you to still be here. The chances of a 'lucky quickie' were virtually zero.

And so, you just stood there, the two of you, with inexplicable rage pooling within.

Your senses were heightened, your emotions wilder than the crazed look in your eyes as he stood there, looking down at you like an adult looking down at their childhood toy. As if you were the naivest, most precious, pathetically adorable thing he owned, reminding him of a simpler time.

At this point, even a rabbit's foot had been treated with more respect than you.

And you hated every moment of it because it was thrusted upon you, just like the silence of the eerie, void-like field you two were in.

"Why are you like this, Y/N?", he groaned, with the nerve to sound tired.

You? Why were you like this? What about him?

"You're… so cold." His hands flexed as if they were about to move from your hair to your throat. "Just… let loose, please. You're the reason I'm winning, I'd at least like to get to know you!"

"Oh, so this is like, an interview? Is she good enough to be associated with me? You think you're hot shit? Dude, I- you gotta realize how fucked up all of this is."

You were practically pleading. Acknowledge your absurdity, Nate Jacobs, please.

"Hey, whoa, look, you chose to associate yourself with me. Not my problem, ok?", he spat back, clearly happy with the return of banter.

"I didn't choose any of this!"

"You requested to follow me after I followed you. You chose not to block me after I followed you."

"You're putting this all on me?"

That's what normal people do ; they follow people back! He was grasping at straws, but it still seemed as though he had an iron grip on them.

"There wouldn't have been a first time if you didn't care so goddamn much." Like he was mocking you. You almost screamed. You almost hit him. He was so nonchalant.

But that… rang true. However, the humanitarian in you was adamant that there was absolutely no one cold enough to shrug off a video of someone slicing so effortlessly into their palm and exposing their blood so unabashedly.

Well, except Nate Jacobs himself.

"But, y'know what, Y/N?", he said, clearing his throat, matter-of-factly. "That's all in the past. Because now, now, we're going to sort out this arrangement between us and everything will go back to normal."

Normal? Normal as in, both of you go back to being strangers? Unlikely.

"Arrangement?"

"How this thing is going to go. Before every game, you fist-bump me. You don't touch any other players whatsoever, Blackhawk or otherwise."

Great, he was policing who you could fist-bump now.

"I- you brought me here at midnight for this?"

"Uh, no, I brought you here at midnight for fun.", he replied, scoffing. "But since you wanted to be all violent and physical, I thought we should stick to business."

Did he mean to be this insufferable? Was it a bit? There was no way an actual human being could act like this, yes? There was no way anyone could think that this was a justifiable response to a genuine question. Right?

At this point, you didn't know anymore.

Nate Jacobs had officially stumped you.

"If I say okay, can I leave?"

"No, you cannot leave, but you definitely can go sit over there and think about your little attitude before I bring out the tequila."

He burst out laughing at your annoyed face, slinging a heavy arm around your shoulder in an oddly possessive display of 'familiarity'.

"Relax. Loosen up, like I said, and you'll be fine.", he snorted, and that was your only indication that he did not, in fact, actually wish to put you into time-out.

The insane man with a gun had a sense of humour, apparently.

"You brought tequila?"

"I told you, the whole point of tonight was fun and getting to know the reason I'm winning better. So, sit."

You sat, still glaring up at him. You must have looked absolutely fucking cute or something, because he pouted at you before reaching into a duffle bag you hadn't noticed before and whipping out two bottles of straight tequila.

"Body shots?"

"Jacobs…"

"I'm joking, I'm joking. You'll come around soon, though. They all do."

Great. That's brilliant. You'd been reduced from a stranger, to a bitch, to a joke, to now a stereotype. This was just spectacular.

"Why me?"

That question seemed to genuinely catch him off-guard.

Good. Now he knows what this past week with him has been like.

"Hm?'

"Why me? Why am I the good luck charm?"

"I don't know."

"You could just be a really good player. You don't know, you haven't gone a single game without it, so you assume you're winning because of it."

"The third game was the one you weren't there for. You must remember hearing about it, though? Most embarrassing game for East Highland, I swear. 34-nil? That was shameful. That's why I decided, fourth game onwards, I wouldn't have to risk it because I got you."

Shit. That actually made sense.

"Okay, now you tell me.", he began, slightly turning the bottle in his hand around and examining the contents, curiously. "Shane Crestin? Seriously?"

"What?"

He scoff-snickered, taking an impressively large gulp before answering. "Y/N, the guy's a tool."

Look who's talking.

"He asked me out after the game."

"So, he knows you're my good luck charm.", he said, quietly, like a king trying to figure out where his men's loyalties lay.

Did Julius Caesar have a girl who he gaslit in order to get her to watch him in battle because of superstition? If so, she'd have been the first to stab him.

"Of course he knows, you made a huge spectacle of it that first time."

"Oh, yeah. But still, what a bastard. Trying to steal my lucky girl and her luck like that."

You needed to do a lobotomy on this man, seriously.

It wasn't even like you could ask him what the hell that meant because that would just bring him immense amounts of joy.

"You're not drinking. Why?", he inquired, opening the second bottle and forcing it to your lips.

You frowned as you held onto it. "I don't drink."

"Oh, bullshit. Come on, drink, don't be a nerd."

"I said no, okay?"

"Wait, do you not want to drink around me?"

He was really going above and beyond to break the 'dumb jock' stereotype, wasn't he?

"I can't believe it.", he continued, leaning back on the bleachers as he watched your face. "After all this, you don't trust me."

After all this, he said, as if he had spent his entire life working solely for your benefit. Like a tired mentor.

"I mean, dude, this is like… such a bitch move, you know that? I'm just trying to be nice."

"I don't know what you want me to do, Nate."

"Uh, trust me? Thought we were cool now, Y/N. You think I'm going to get you blackout drunk then have my way with you? Rape you? Are you scared to be around me? At midnight? In a quiet, empty football stadium where no one would think to look for you?", he questioned, still holding your gaze as he lifted his bottle to his mouth.

The elaboration of that statement unnerved you.

"I don't think you're going to rape me, I'm just-"

"Just scared of the possibility?"

"Don't take it personal, but-"

"There's no other way to take it. You're all but accusing me of assault. I thought you were different."

Was that meant to make you melt? 'Oh, no, I'm just like everyone else in that I don't want to end up in a ditch somewhere, the horror!'

"Maybe I'm not.", you shrugged.

"But you came. Tonight. No one else would have. So maybe you're a judgmental bitch like everyone else, but you've at least got your stupidly huge heart going for you."

If you strained your ears, that almost sounded like a compliment.

"Uh, thanks?"

"Drink, Y/N. Please."

Oh, fuck it. You needed that goddamn tequila to shoot through you with a vengeance.

"There we go.", he mumbled, watching you. "Dude, look at you."

"Hm?"

"You're finally badass."

His eyes lit up as he saw your finger enter the scene. He chuckled for a moment. "I'm being serious. I mean, you've beaten me up, what, three times so far - once in front of the entire school - and now you're doing underage shots with me at night at school, which is like, two illegal things at the same time."

See, that's where the difference between the two of you lay.

He thought that was being a badass.

You thought that was being a dumbass.

══════════════════════ ⋆♠️⋆ ═══════════════════

"…So yeah. That's why I joined football, basically. Made me feel, like, stronger and more in control, I guess."

This asshole had just told the most human story, and now you had to see him as a person. The cunt.

You watched as he stood in the middle of the field, aiming and shooting at the banners that were strewn up all around the field.

God, he was so fucking terrifying.

How does he play Russian Roulette to bait you into coming one minute and then reload and shoot at banners like a child with his first Nerf the next?

"Control. Yeah, that tracks."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You want everything to go your way. You get pissed when other people do things of their own will."

"Can't argue with that.", he shrugged, as he turned his back to you and shot another banner, impressively shooting right in the centre of the 'O' in a 'GO BLACKHAWKS!' sign. "You know how to shoot?"

"No."

"You should learn."

"I'll get right on that.", you scoffed, as you observed your tequila bottle intensely, ignoring him coming back to rest his feet on the bleachers from your peripheral vision.

"Open your mouth."

"What?"

"Humour me."

"I've humoured you enough tonight."

"Please? Pretty please?"

You rolled your eyes, but opened your mouth. You had no idea what you expected, but it sure as hell was not him stuffing the barrel of his gun in there. You suddenly felt the tequila evaporating from your bloodstream as he slapped your hands away after you tried taking it out, like anyone would. Shit, it hurt. FUCK.

"Just relax.", he whispered, so soothingly that he might as well have been talking you through a panic attack. "There's nothing to be scared of."

Besides the hot gun you've got basically lodged up my throat.

Suddenly, the amount of danger you really were in began to materialize in your head. He was right. It was midnight. It was spring break. It was at high school. No one would think to look for you there.

"Are you scared?"

Oh, God. He was one of those freaks who got off on these things.

You nodded, not really knowing what else to do.

"You think I'll shoot you?"

You shook your head.

"Kill you?"

You shook your head.

"Then why are you scared?"

Honestly, it was the fact that he wasn't going to do either of those things, and decided to shove a gun down your throat simply for shits and giggles.

"You need more tequila."

WHAT?

You frowned, but nodded. Anything to get the gun out of your mouth.

He poured it straight from the bottle into your mouth, watching with sick satisfaction as you swallowed, and you realized that he was psychotically drunk.

"How's that? I do it all the time, y'know? Hot metal plus cold tequila equals the best fucking night ever."

Um, ew. No. But that would be super unwise to say.

"You shove a gun down your throat then take a shot?"

"One of my more dangerous drinking games, yes. God, dude, look at you. Like, you're so fucking uptight, loosen THE FUCK up!"

You were unsure how much 'looser' you could get - you were already going along with his 'dangerous drinking game'.

"I am!"

"Not enough. Not even close. You need more."

"We're all out.", you said, (thankfully) pointing at the empty duffle bag next to him.

"Oh.", he sighed, slumping down next to you and using the duffle bag as a pillow. "Just- I don't get it. What is it about you?"

"That makes you get suicidal?"

He snorted, softly. "That makes me so mad?"

"You're mad?"

"Not like angry-mad. I mean like… crazy-mad. Like I go mad around you."

Five-year-olds could explain things better than him, but, to his credit, he was shitfaced.

"Really? Thought you were born that way."

"I mean, last week? When I kissed you? I don't do that shit. But it was the only way to shut you up. I-ugh. It's you, Y/N. Just fucking up my brain, one game at a time."

"Oh, oh, so you being a psychopath is because I didn't show up to one game?"

"When you're constantly worried about someone needing to be there, you do crazy things. Like cut yourself. I would have done it, too, seriously."

"I know. That's why I came."

"So, we weren't entirely strangers, huh? You knew me a little, at least?"

"Uh, no, we were definitely strangers."

"Now? What are we now?"

"Uh… friends?" You didn't mean that. You wouldn't be his friend if it killed you.

"No, I think I'd know it if we were friends." Phew.

"So, you tell me."

"What? No, you've been in charge this whole time, you tell me."

He just said you'd been in charge.

One offhanded, sweeping statement, and he'd shifted all the blame on you as easy as pie.

How did he do that?

It was obvious what he was referring to: the fact that none of these interactions would have happened if you just hadn't given a shit in the first place.

The fact that every single move of his had been linked to you, in whatever this weird everybody (except you) ante, sketchy poker game he was playing was supposed to be.

And it unnerved you.

Because in some twisted way, it was true.

"Acquaintances."

"But we've kissed.", he reminded, diligently and unwantedly. "Acquaintances - and classmates, before you suggest that - don't just kiss."

"Dude, then what do you want to be?"

Shit. That was what he'd wanted all along. For you to ask in exasperation, to give you his interpretation.

"You know, just… an average relationship between a man and his good luck charm." He inched closer, his hand loosening its grip on the railing as if it was going to do something, but there was no more tequila to reach out for.

There was only you.

And reach, he did.

First, his hands were on your cheek, like they had been a half hour ago. Then, suddenly, they were in your hair, and his tongue was trying to coax your words out of you directly from the source.

And you just let it happen.

If anyone knew why you let it happen, you'd have loved to start a suggestion box.

But you had a funny feeling that the only person who knew why was Nate Jacobs himself.

Fat chance he'd tell you.

#nate euphoria #euphoria x reader #euphoria #nate jacobs x y/n #nate jacobs x you #nate jacobs #nate jacobs x reader #nate jacobs fic #nate jacobs fanfic #euphoria fic #euphoria imagine #nate jacobs imagine #euphoria x you #nate jacobs fluff #euphoria fluff #euphoria dialogue #nate jacobs blurb #nate jacobs imagines #nate jacobs oneshot #nate jacobs hc #nate jacobs drabble #nate jacobs fanfiction #euphoria smut #nate jacobs smut

[tassodelmiele]

Noisy little mess

Hi sweetie⁓

Brief intro 'cause I'm so late to do everything this monday, goddammit.

Or...

CoDdammit. Lol.

Sorry

That's a "dialogued chapter". I love dialogues.

I lllllove them.

Next time i'll give you some more action, i promise.

Maybe. I suck at scheduling things

DISCLAIMERS: GhostxYou yelling time; Price is so good at being a psychologist i don't even know why he's a soldier; Soap risking his life by being a little too funny; Gaz doesn't like coffee; dialogues that last halves of hours; roommates enjoyining their time alone; brain gets error 404 on how-to-behave correctly;

................................

Sixth part here:

................................

«I bet someone'd fought the other day»

Price appears behind you, and incredibly, it's not breakfast time: it's like 4pm, and you're not used to seeing him somewhere which is not Laswell's office.

You let the weight fall from your hand, breathing heavily; lately, gym is the only thing that allows you to not explode like a goddamn balloon in a cactus field.

You exhale: «…did he tell you?»

«Didn't need to tell me. We heard the yells»

«…ah»

He sighs, sitting on a bench. «Some things are better to be told under your breath. Particularly if they are personal. And above all, if they're the kinda things you were talking about-»

«You're telling me you've heard that i-!» You say almost in a hurry, immediately biting your lips. «…sorry Captain»

«You don't need to be sorry»

«No? And…what about being bewildered?»

He frowns. And you find the intimacy of the gym, combined with Price's soft eyes and his bear you're so tempted to pet, comfortable enough to open up a little.

As if you've not behaved like an open book since you'd made the first breakfast with the Task Force.

«Look» you preempt every possible objection about not being professional on a military base (since you know you're not) «I don't wanna be a burden, or cause problems. I-I know you've already got plenty of them…»

And he anticipates you with a sigh: «…but?», knowing so well you're about to stream out a flow of that sort of thing girls tell their besties at pajama party nights.

«But…but I don't know how to handle the Lt! I…just don't know. It seemed to me we got along well but, apparently, we weren't. We are not. I mean» your hands gesticulate above you to draw the speech in the air «one day he almost broke my arm, then he helped me get rid of some sort of stalker, but the day after he offended me and told me to shut my mouth. I don't know! I don't know how the hell I am supposed to-»

«Is this bothering you?»

«Yes!» You almost yell, emptying your lungs with a sigh.

Price's humming fills the silence for a while. «Ok. I'll make sure to put you under someone else's supervision-»

«No»

You bite your tongue again, and he smiles under the bear; you know he did. He was expecting your answer, but doesn't need to make you feel bad about how much of a childish behavior this is. He pats your shoulder: «Ghost speaks through sarcasm. Not that easy to handle. But if he doesn't ignore you, then he likes you. That's what we've learned 'bout him»

«What about him being touchy?»

Now you can add to your "goal list of the year" that you've made Price slightly blush; and he can't deny it, even if he hides the red under a bear scratching. He doesn't even ask you about the kind of "touchy" behavior you're speaking of, so you imagine that, somehow, he already knows…things.

«Again» he sighs. «Does this bother you?»

Fists are clenched around the thumbs, squeezing them hard, and your sight is focused on the weights abandoned on the floor. You feel some sort of heat climbing up your tights thinking about how much Ghost's touch did notbother you. But your brain doesn't allow you to admit it. 'Cause it bothers you not being able to find him bothering just enough to officially make him stop, and you're just hoping he'll quit somehow 'cause old memories and vices are frighteningly awakening in you. 

«It would be better» and saying this costs you a lot of swallowed cravings «if he stops»

«Mh» 

It doesn't seem like he is falling for it. But he doesn't ask further.

«I'll speak to him»

And you can just give your beautiful Captain the best smile you've got.

«I just can't believe that bloody woman is a…whatever»

«People in bed are different from people in war, Lt»

Ghost glares at Soap through his fifth coffee of the day.

«Why, thank you, Sergeant. I'll engrave your pearl of knowledge on my tombstone» 

«It'll be ma pleasure»

«What is it?»

Two pairs of eyes turn at Gaz, who's peeking from the opposite side of the table. None of them is a "snack" kinda guy, but this afternoon really calls for a break.

And Ghost's drinking coffee. Again.

The Lt. gazes back at Kyle.

«What?»

«You're not drinking tea anymore» he claims, suspicious.

«Are ya afraid I'll turn into a Scottish?»

Soap grins: «aha, not funny», as he rummages through the pile of recruits' tests that need to be checked. «Look, look at this, bloody Jesus, I-» He tooks away one sheet in particular, waving it around. «How the hell is she capable of runnin' like a-a...dunno!»

«Who're you talking about?»

«Our laddie» He spits out with a smirk. «Christ, she does have working lungs, look at her running test results!» 

«'Course she has, or she won't be able to yell like that»

The whole office turns silent around Price's words. He enters with a smirk, nodding at his desk full of plastic glasses.

«When did the tea party start?»

«Sorry Cap., promise we ain't eaten all the cupcakes»

He grunts, heavenly sliding on his goddamn chair (spared by the misappropriation). He waves his head at Ghost:

«I've got complaints»

That makes him say his second: «…what?» in, like, two minutes.

«Our little one» Price explains «is politely asking you to stop being…you know what»

«An asshole?» is Johnny's supposition.

«A shithead?» is Kyle's.

«Surely someone's gonna be bloody dead meat» is Ghost's ultimatum. 

«I've spoken» are Price's last words, before he stretches his limbs so hard his bones crack, making Gaz shiver with a: «damn Cap., go see a fucking osteopath»

Then a mumbling is heard from Ghost's mask, almost chomped in his teeth as he tried not to let his thoughts hiss out of his mouth. But he fails, and everyone can hear: «fucking child, not grown enough to tell me by herself»

It makes Soap almost burst into a laugh he chokes in his guts, exploding in a sudden cough. 

«Ya ok bud?»

«Aye, aye…'s just…» Johnny takes a breath, gaining some air. «'S funny to look at you two playing the “cordless phone” game»

Ghost doesn't like this. Not a bit, not a single word.

«What do you mean?» He snaps.

«Why don't you just talk frankly to her?»

«I've nothing to say»

«Bullshit. You've been yelling at each other for one week»

«You're a bloody blabbermouth»

«'M sorry, it was impossible not to hear you. Why are ye even so mean to her? You two started well»

«I'm not here to make friends»

«Maybe ye could get a girlfriend instead»

«Johnny»

Price intervenes before Ghost decides his knife fists better in Soap's throat than in his hand. Captain gives his boys one of his gazes. 

«That doesn't have anything to do with you, so, even if you know every crumb of this shit cake…shut your holes. 'K?»

And they do it. They shut up, since they neither want a telling-off from their Cap., nor Ghost's knife in their butt.

The day was kinda ruined, though. At least, Simon's day. And he spends the rest working hours glaring back at everyone, avoiding speaking and trying to shut the echo of Soap's voice in his head. 'Cause he hates to admit it (and he wouldn't do it even under torture) but that goddamn man was right: it was just a matter of speaking with her honestly. Without being a dick.

Fuck; that last part could have been a problem.

The fact is…problems that are killing his synapsis are actually two.  

Price managed to get one of them, and maybe it's pretty obvious even for the rest of the team. But the other mental pirouette is what is really eating him alive. And he doesn't have enough teeth to clench, cheeks to devour internally, fists to smash on the door to avoid thinking about it.

'Cause one thing is liking you.

One other is wanting you. In a bad, absolutely not polite and caring, incredibly violent way.

Abstinence surely is one of the worst tortures. He's used to it, though: both to abstinence and torture. So it shouldn't be a problem, but it is, and he can't deal with it, he can't accept it, it's just unbearable and…and…

And Ghost almost starts to think everything is so overwhelming at the point of giving him hallucinations, as he hears…something.

Something familiar.

He stops next to a door, and it takes him one second to realize what door it is, and who's behind that door.

And what sound he had just heard. 

And in that one second of chaotic information riddling his brain…he hears it again.

A moan. A cute one, so muffled and soft that it was almost inaudible.

His eyes slid to the room door. 

That's your room. 

And, if he remembers well, the big crazy woman of your roommate is currently out on a mission. Therefore, you're alone.

All alone.

Absolutely alone.

So alone that you're, evidently, enjoying your moment of privacy a little too much.

He's about to knock at your door, or to burst in, he doesn't know, he'll figure it out somehow, but as his hands brush against the door knob there's another moan, so soft, so gentle that he thinks he's hallucinating.

"Why are you doing this to me?"

«What are you…doing?»

He jumps, his heart skips a couple beats as he jerks alarmed eyes to look at who's just appeared next to him.

He almost faints when he sees you. Thank god the mask is covering his face, otherwise you would see a jubilance of embarrassment and fear, red and deathly white.

You're standing, a toothbrush in your hand and in your feet the insecurity of someone who doesn't know if to make an u-turn and pretend you've seen nobody, or stay and wait for an excuse.

Him too, he seems to choose the "excuse" kinda behavior: he coughs, straightening his spine at his limit to stand taller, more confident. 

And he talks, but words are not as dry as he would like: «I came to see y-TO» he suddenly withdraws «to make sure you're going to be at the meeting tomorrow mornin'» the last few words become a mutter.

Silence follows. Moments of strange silence, oddly, densely fluffy, as if you're looking at the scene from above a cloud.

W H A T 

That's what your mind is flashing while you're discharging your incredulity on the poor toothbrush.

«I…» You start, with the intention of saying something sensible, really, to make the most of this occasion and let him know how fucked it's his way to handle people, sarcasm or not. «We just-like-we've almost…in your…yesterday» you start all over again «you've treated me like a wannabe whore»

He immediately hurries: «Wasn't my intention to-»

«I'm sorry if it wasn't, you'd done it» You shut him. You shut your goddamn Lt., and this isn't even the first time. «I can't hold up with this anymore»

«With what?»

«You» You spit, clenching your fist around the toothbrush. «With you, ok? I-I-look, i know this couldn't-you're my superior, I'm sorry if I'm being…disrespectful? I'm sorry» words start to rush from your lips, eyes are wandering around, in search of a cute way to avoid yelling at him again. «But you're so…»

«…So?»

«Unreadable. Unbearable» adjectives slip through your mouth, sharpened and straight to his heart. Or at least you hope. «I can't work with nerves at a razor's edge»

«I supposed you already knew we've to work under all conditions»

«These are not normal conditions, don't just spit the whole thing out»

«Explain, than»

«You know!» You muffle the voice. «Stop teasing me, 's like you've got some sort of dual personality! Anyway, I've already spoken with Price and-»

«He'd told me» He cuts your speech. «But I'd rather your pretty voice gives me clarifications»

«We've already fought on this point, like, five times!»

«What point»

«You make fucking fun of me!». This time you yell, then immediately bite your lips. You feel like he's teasing you, and obviously the joke's always on you. «That's the point! And all 'cause-'cause I've moaned once, and somehow now you hate me because I've made you turned on!»

«I-»

«First you treat me like some kinda hoe, then you protect me from stalkers, but one minute later you make fun of-of-! Do you know» you're rushing disconnected words, and your toothbrush is pointed at his face threateningly «how fucking difficult it was for me to open up about my goddamn kink? Do you know??»

«Listen-»

«But I've done it! I've done it 'cause you're a superior of mine, and I want, I swear to god, I WANT to respect you, to-to trust you and be at ease with you like I used to till a bloody week ago!!»   

You're breathing so heavily your lungs' movements are making your whole body wave. Stern, ice-cold eyes are locked on him, and you don't even know how you've managed to gaze at his mask for so long.

There are times in which you need to make a choice in a matter of seconds. Simple ones: putting salt first in the pot, or going first with pasta when water boils; wait a little at the coffee machine to make the espresso a long one; going to the bathroom before putting nail polish; picking up the book you're supposed to study instead of the phone with you're gonna fuck around with for the rest of the day…

Simple things. Ordinary choices.

Like biting your tongue before talking shits (that's what you're not doing), or speaking before it's too late (that's what he's not doing).

And you two face each other in a silent sights fight, spiced with rage and frustration, every muscle tensed and every fist clenched, teeth tight and cheeks chomped from the inside.

You'd like to burst into tears.

He'd like not to be a dick. For once.

And the whole situation is unlocked by another sudden, soft moan from the room. 

You instantly get red in every inch of skin; he widens his eyes, just able to say:

«What the fuck-»

«Sorry» you're so fucking embarrassed you can't even stand his sight anymore. «Sorry, i-i've…i've given Bernie some "solo-time", and she…uhm…apparently-»

«Hold on». His tone changes so suddenly, turning into a hurried, awkward question: «Is Bernadette Kelly inside?»

«Y-yeah»

«Wasn't she supposed to be on a mission?»

«She was a substitute, in case Fisher couldn't do it. But he managed to go»

«…oh»

«…oh?»

He's lucky the black makeup disguises his redness so well, since he can feel how hot his face is under the mask, as he wonders how it could have ended if he had rushed inside the room to Bernadette touching herself.

«…ok. Well, no. But…ok, 's ok» He mumbles to himself, allowing his brain two seconds to readjust the thoughts's stream. 

«Ok?»

It pisses you off so much you don't know where to restart the angry mood. 

And you do it in the worst way possible, blowing out a mean: «you've thought it was me, didn't you? Were you ready to scold me again 'cause "I haven't got enough dignity to be a soldier", and then feel allowed to touch me?»

You're ready for everything, you're wearing armor in berserk mode: you can face him yelling at you, threatening, flirting, scolding, putting blame on you, taking you at gunpoint, punching you or throwing a burrito at you, you don't care.

You're ready. You're waiting.

Aaand waiting.

Aaaaaand waiting.

'Cause he's not moving, so frozen in place you're wondering if he's still breathing.

Ghost's not an evil man. He's not violent, he's not an asshole.

He's just having a metaphorical system error in his software that's reminding him he has not, in his goddamn entire life, dealt with such a duty. 

And he doesn't know how to: he doesn't know if it's better a silenced gun or a sniper, to do stealth or to burst in the house with a grenade; he doesn't know if it'll be a dangerous mission or a walk in the park kinda thing.

He doesn't' know, 'cause his only way to solve these problems is being a dick and waiting till the counterpart gets enough of him, and just leaves him alone.

But this time he doesn't even know if he wants to be left alone.

And so, with his mind blown up and just your toothbrush in his eyesight…

He left.

Without a word.

He turns his heels, leaving you in the corridor.

................................

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod fanfic #fanfiction #cod #ghost x reader #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mctavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #ghost x you #ao3 fanfic #writing dialogues is so funny #so much yelling time #have you ever scold someone while brushing your teeth? #roommates moaning time #CoDdammit

[thottyimagines]

was sasuke right?

were naruto's intentions with sasuke selfish?

are the romantic undertones between naruto and sasuke intentional or accidental?

was kakashi trying his best? / was he a "good" sensei?

openings or endings?

Rapid-fire answers:

Was Sasuke right? Yes and no. Konoha delenda est and all that, of course, and he is one of many who deserve particular reparations. However, I don't think this guy who is like uncomfortably strong but has no social skills and also can probably only read at a middle-school level should be out and about playing judge/jury/executioner with the ruling class. He is...not exactly the vox populi.

Were Naruto's intentions with Sasuke selfish? Yes! That doesn't mean they were bad, though.

Are romantic undertones between Naruto and Sasuke intentional or accidental? Accidental, but in a way that makes me feel that it's just personal repression leaking out. I can't go full death of the author here.

Was Kakashi trying his best/was he a "good" sensei? He was trying his best, but he was a bad sensei. His best was terrible and it was a terrible decision to put him in charge of children, especially the beasts he had.

#naruto #naruto meta #controversial asks #I don't know what the last one means so I'm ignoring it

[timetravellingkitty]

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#last night an ex friend who ignored me for 6 fucking months just messaged me saying “oh im sorry i want to make things clear between us” #“i dont want any bad relations before the end of the year blah blah blah” #and she didn't even apologise properly #i told her i didnt accept her apology because i didnt trust her anymore and that i deserved friends who cared about stuff like that #and her response to that? “wow nice to see you're so cocky let me knock your ego down a few notches” #“you're a loud and obnoxious bitch you think you the world revolves around you just cause you read some feminist books” #which tells me that she really didnt mean her sorry #she just wants a clean slate and validation she's actually a good person #im sorry but you dont get to use as a stepping stone for YOUR character development #why apologise if you don't fucking mean it #and the worst part is my friend still thinks she's a good person and whatever blah blah blah FUCK OFF #i know no one really wants to listen what i have to say given that i'm always taken as a joke #but srsly fuck off it's amazing how her friend hurting me isnt a big deal cause she's “not as bad as i think she is” #god i miss my old friends we have such a strong bond but we don't meet that often i just want to hug them so bad #i'm glad i didnt listen to the part of me that wanted to forgive her one of my ex friends was also like her and i've learnt my lesson #vent #personal

[unproduciblesmackdown]

truly something that, amidst facing / going through a dramatic Life Change ft. unavoidable emotional effects of that, there are instances where i can't conceal any & all degrees of being distressed / upset, & repeatedly getting "it's hard for me too" as a Direct Response to that: really something & a half how the asserted theoretical Sympathy of [i feel similarly!] is invoked so as to, oh you know, preclude sympathetic Treatment. such as that what would be More sympathetic in these instances would be to say Nothing, "if there's nothing but dismissal / making it first & foremost about someone else's feelings to say, don't say it at all" style

#reading also that original Lovelessness essay ''love is meant to make me human / love is also the mechanism by which my humanity #has been denied'' always preferring to have [sorry! couldn't fully bottle up this Emotiona externally manifesting at all!] Ignored rather #than ''nicely'' interacted with so as to Invalidate; Dismiss; someone's annoyed at you for having it; etc #for bonus context like we are not in the same boat with it. #not a case of ''the same situation; mine is worse though'' like no; fundamentally different situations here lmao. mine is worse #If You Feel So Bad. Or At All. then at least now do me the favor of Not Saying That; Repeatedly #their feelings put on me too in other ways. stewing resentment into lashing out; tossing out ''but i'm justified'' like ok! Your business!! #the ol like. If You're Going To Do Something Anyways then how you justify it to yourself is Your business / b/w you & your god as they say #& the last thing to do is be making it the problem of ppl Most Affected by what you're gonna do anyways & Also ask their Absolution..... #like if you need more moral support abt What You're Doing Anyways: turn to Anyone Else. even No One if you have to. #bit going tf through it when it's spilling over into Posting but such is life!! we all have that [the horrors. girl help] blogger on dash #again the tl;dr like oh you don't say. the [umm but have you considered? My Feelings! (they're so sympathetic at all. yor welcome)] is #the mechanism through which Really basic sympathy is being denied & replaced with [Saying Nothing would've been less hurtful] #misgendering me the other night too while Also all 'hey I'm trying to talk to the customer service. why are You going up & talking first' #(that was me experiencing the latter. i didn't say it but i was like cmon. my glasses are fogging up w/surgical mask (don't have access to #more effective masks so doing what Nonzero i can there) i'm a bit carsick i'm weathering a crisis. can i have anything here lol) #just Oh You Know. The Horrors.... #balancing ofc trying to endure trying to self soothe etc etc. with ''it's the horrors. it's gonna be horrific & you're gonna be affected'' #ah the [being kind to oneself] like also means knowing how reasonable it is to Not solo contain & endure & Cope Through everything.... #crushing a paper cup in my hands genuinely i would like to generously thank my virtual allies out here today. mic feedback #irl In Real Life? life is Real asf here & nobody Realer than them

[youremyonlyhope]

why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up why won't my brain shut up

#i'm overthinking something that i did and was told off for doing by my director #and on my way home i was thinking when was the last time i was even talked to like that during a production #and then i remembered the costume experience from hell of only a couple months ago that i've already began blocking out #but the thing is that that person was someone i knew i'd never have to work with again #i mean at first i thought i would have to work with them more. then they announced they were moving away immediately #so i only had to deal with them face to face for another weekish after that point and anytime they yelled at me #i was like 'cool. i'll do exactly what you say to do. and nothing more.' but then of course me being me #i did some extra stuff and they initially were like 'oh that's pretty' and then days later told me to cut everything i added #and like sure i get that the show was frozen but girl. that costume was unfinished. i was trying to finish it. it was frozen but looked bad #anyway. whenever they yelled at me and had actual malice in their heart i was like whatever. i was hurt. but i didn't care as much. #but this time it's someone i've worked with many many times before and it was about a habit i have that i know isn't great #but at the same time the thing that prompted it wasn't even me doing this habit it was something else #but she interpreted it as that habit and said that i can't do that on a production she's directing #and that if i couldn't stop then i could pull out from the production and there'd be no hard feelings between us #and honestly i think her reassuring that she knows i'm valuable and that she wants me there while also telling me not to do this thing #and the fact that she's someone i like working with and will continue to work with just made it all hurt so much more #especially since she referenced another past production we've done where i didn't even realize she had noticed that i do this. #and i found myself in near tears. and still am kind of in near tears. i can't decide if i need to cry or not. #and i had NO sleep last night so i was looking forward to sleeping tonight but now i'm just overthinking EVERYTHING #and like. i know everything will be fine. if i just stop inserting myself and stick to just my specific tasks. it'll be fine. #but this is one of the ways my ocd manifests. i feel like i have to personally fix something i notice going wrong. or it'll be bad. #because every single time i choose to sit back and not be nosy when i notice something it ends up bad in a way i could have prevented #if i just inserted myself in a situation i technically wasn't part of but knew i could help or fix. so i just need to not do that. #but then i feel guilt if it does go wrong in the ways i immediately assumed it would and in a way i could prevent. #and i've been trying to work on this for like 6 months and aaaahhhh it's hard and being called out on it from her just really really hurt #i still may or may not cry. i don't know. the irony of me telling my therapist THIS MORNING that it's been a while since i last cried. #and the universe being like 'i took that as a challenge' and handing me this situation for me to spiral over. #i need to leave things alone. i need to stare straight ahead. and ignore whatever isn't specifically for me to do. but ahhh i want to help #and then of course my mom has this same habit and it annoys me when she does it yet i do it to other people and ahhhhhhhh #brain please just shut up. i need to sleep. i have to work tomorrow.

[bahrmp3]

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#personal #now that the new year's has passed I feel like I can talk about it I did not have a good time lmao it started fine I guess? I was going to #play music for the new year but then mum made a comment about me still on laptop so I shut it bc ok fine let's not #then it was down hill from there? like I ignored it and was like let's not make a thing out of it so we are saying what we liked this year #/ what we want to do and mum goes and for my son I want x y z and didn't mention me so joe asks her and for if she has anything to say for #me? any wishes? but she doesn't lmao later on she goes (if only you would say what you want we do not know anything about you) #she didn't even mean it she said just to hurt like I was taking a video of this and lit off frame my face is dropping #later on she goes (and you didn't even say what you wish for us either) as she leaves and later when I'm talking to my brother #and I protest this he goes (welp what can I even say? like I told you before are pretty selfish) and idk what to say I was surprised I #don't think I'm selfish tho? I legit was the one to cook for us and got cake? I try so much but keep being labeled selfish this is the #second time he tells me that in the last two weeks I think and both are unfounded ngl anyway all of this pales in the last thing #so we call dad to say happy new year! Well joe does and I mean ok I was still pretty upset about what happened an hour ago so ofc I wasn't #cheerful when calling dad lmao but like I was saying all the right things anyway? but Joe kept gesturing at me to smile its a phone call #and after the phone call he has like (why are you always so depressed? if I were you and I finally got a laptop I would be flying from joy #why are you always so down? why can't you just be happy?) and I honestly don't know what to say lmao ok so I wasn't flying from joy with #my laptop but idk how to say it here but then like what's worst? being hurt and not a person recognising that you are hurt? and in fact #asking you why aren't you smiling? or idk being too depressed for others?? what's funnier is mum later on was like (don't let anyone words #change you you shouldn't yield to others) in reference to Joe's speech but like hello mama?? not 2 hrs ago??? #anyway so I asked her if I shouldn't be listening to her words then? and she was saying yes with confidence like does she not #see either how she hurts me? how she keeps hurting me voer and over and over??? #God I should have made that pizza and truly be selfish maybe I wouldnt have been hurt like that #tbd

[x-birdsong-x]

My laptop charges very very quickly but also loses battery very quickly

#This little dude is trying so hard SKSKSK #It still can BARELY handle Wolfquest 3 #My old one would've died trying fr #This isn't my old mini-HP that I got for like £40 that lasted me years this is my newer one #it's Acer instead and quite a bit bigger #has a cool wood texture over it #And like. it can flip almost right the way over I don't know if that makes sense if you know what I mean you know what I mean #My old one couldn't bend like that #Why am I gushing about my laptop I've had this thing for a good while now so it's not NEW-new but still.. newer #Ignore me #Depression swallowing me whole so I'm. rambling on tumblr

[inkskinned]

i got rickrolled today but it didn't work because i have adblocker installed, so youtube just told me i violated the terms of service. yesterday i was trying to edit a picture as a joke for my girlfriend, and google made me check a box to prove i'm human because i wasn't "searching normally".

it isn't just that capitalism is killing fun and whimsy, it is that any element of entertainment or joy is being fed upon by this mosquito body, one that will suck you dry at any vulnerability.

do you want to meet new friends in your city? download this app, visit our website, sign up for our email list. pay for this class on making a terrarium, on candlemaking, on cooking. it will be 90 dollars a session. you can go to group fitness, but only under our specific gym membership. solve the puzzle, sign up for our puzzle-of-the-month-club. what is a club if not just a paid opportunity - you are all paying for the same thing, which makes you a community.

but you're like me, i know it - you're careful, you try the library meetings and the stuff at the local school and all of that. the problem is that you kind of want really specific opportunities that used to exist. you are so grateful for libraries and the publicly-funded things: they are, however, an exception - and everything they have, they've fought tooth-and-nail to protect. you read a headline about how in many other states, libraries have virtually nothing left.

do you want to meet up with your friends afterwards? gift your friends the discord app. you can choose to go to a cafe (buy a coffee, at least), a bar (money, alcohol) or you can all stay in and catch a movie (streaming) or you can all stay in bed (rent. don't get me started) and scream (noise complaint. ticket at least).

you want to read a new book, but the book has to have 124 buzzwords from tiktok readers that are, like, weirdly horny. you can purchase this audiobook on audible! your podcast isn't on spotify, it's on its own server, pay for a different site. fuck, at least you're supporting artists you like. the art museum just raised their ticket price. once, they had a temporary exhibit that acknowledged that ~85% of their permanent art galleries were from cis white men, and that they had thousands of works by women (even famous women, like frida! georgia o'keefe!) just rotting in their basement. that exhibit lasted for 3 months and then they put everything away again.

walmart proudly supports this strip of land by the street! here are some flowers with wilting leaves. its employees have to pay out-of-pocket for their uniforms. my friend once got fined by the city because she organized a community pick-up of the riverfront, which was technically private property.

no, you cannot afford to take that dance class, neither can i. by the way - i'm a teacher. i'm absolutely not saying "educators shouldn't be paid fairly." i'm saying that when i taught classes, renting a studio went from 20 bucks an hour to 180 in the span of 6 months. no significant changes to the studio were made, except they now list the place as updated and friendly. the heat still doesn't work in the building. i have literally never seen the landlord who ignores my emails. recently they've been renting it out at night as an "unusual nightclub; a once-in-a-lifetime close-knit party." they spent some of those 180 dollars on LEDs and called it renovating. the high heels they invite in have been ruining the marley.

do you want to experience the old internet? do you want to play flash games or get back the temporary joy of club penguin? you can, you just need to pay for it. i have a weird, neurodivergent obsession with occasionally checking in to watch the downfall and NFT-ification of neopets. if i'm honest with you all - i never got into webkins, my family didn't have the money to buy me a pointless elephant. people forget that "being poor" can mean literally "if i buy you that toy, i can't afford rent."

you and i don't have time to make good food, and we don't have the budget for it. we are not gonna be able to host dinner parties, we're not made of money, kid. do you want some kind of 3rd space? a space that isn't home or work or school? you could try being online, but - what places actually exist for you? tiktok counts as social media because you see other people on it, not because they actually talk to you.

there was a local winter tradition of sledding down the hill at my school. kids would use pizza boxes and jackets and whatever worked, howling and laughing. back in september, they made a big announcement that this time, rules were changing, and everyone must pay 10 dollars to participate. when im not scared shitless, i kind of appreciate the environmental irony - it hasn't gone below 40. so much for snow & joyriding.

i saw a bulletin for a local dogwalking group and, nervous about making a good first impression, showed up early. the first guy there grimaced at me. "sorry," he said. "there's a 30-dollar buy-in fee." i thought he was joking. wait. for what? the group doesn't offer anything except friendship and people with whom to walk around the city.

he didn't know the answer. just shrugged at me. "you know," he said. "these days, everything costs money."

#spilled ink #warm up #“why did u tag it warm up” bc i wrote it off the cuff while drinkin coffee lol #btw the 30 dollar buy in for the dog walking is bc they pay the organizer a small pittance so she can #run fb ads and stuff and like she does put in a lot of work i don't mind paying her #but that's exactly what im fucking talking about like. #ppl can't afford to volunteer their time anymore and we all understand it!!! everything costs money for everyone! #like we didn't have to use to say ''do you mind paying me back for the stuff we ate'' #we used to be able to afford to feed our friends once in a while!!!

[chloeseyeliner]

and here i thought miscommunication trope was never going to happen irl again and stay in fanfiction forever.

i was so wrong.

#like girl i am twenty by 2.5-3 days. i cannot keep doing this middle school stuff. i am sorry. #vent post #kind of?? #haven't made one of these in a while #oversharing on the internet #once again #anyway #long story short #we were almost great friends exactly a week ago okay? #and then nothing happened #and she just. stopped acknowledging my presence???? #like i am not playing the victim here i have made many mistakes in the past but as i am growing up i realise how wrong i was #and put effort in being better every day #and like everyone who knows me that well irl knows i am a very sincere person so i would never hide it if i actually hurt her here #i just. it's been such a long time since a person won't even talk to me??? while i am standing next to them??? out of freaking nowhere??? #while i am trying to communicate??? #like i won't speak with any details but the only words she has uttered directly at me these past seven days were 'bye' with her back- #-facing me today. #and i tried. i really tried. i am tired. #i'll give it another week because i cannot think clearly with all the anxiety surrounding the situation + sciatica (yes i know how?) #my best friend got really mad ngl lol #so i am just venting here because she is the calmest person i know and she was ready to put troy on fire when i told here everything lol- #i don't even know #i mean. we literally study human psychology inter alia at uni girl. please. #and what makes me the saddest is how our other friend is sad regarding the whole situation and she is trying for them both- #-while not knowing what the fuck is going on- not that i do but you know. #and it's all so sad. #*sighs* #i'd rather have her screaming at me if i did something wrong than completely ignoring me and behaving normally around everyone else... #last week we were literally talking of going to the kyoshi movie together. the 2025 MOVIE. i'm shattered.

[panicatthetwentyonechemicalboys]

OMFG THIS COMMENT. GUISE. THAT LAST SENTENCE IS SO FUCKING RAW

edit: i see a lot of people arguing over the 'eat the rich' thing and i'd like to clear up my standing currently! i know they aren't the same kind of fancy multi-million corporation that our beloved phrase talks about, and the reason i agree to a point with this comment is that watcher is evidently trying to become that. they're doing some shitty things in regards do disregarding poorer fans, and are seemingly blatantly ignoring the economic crisis by saying 'everyone can afford that!', all in direct contrast to their entire branding of being leftist and openly supporting things like eat the rich.

"You said 'eat the rich' then handed us the forks, laid on the plate, and expected us to spare you?" at least from my understanding isn't flat-out saying watcher are now the rich we eat, but are well on the track to becoming so, and are quickly developing the same ego.

BUT!! don't like people directly hating on steven like that!! they're all grown men who can make their own decisions, and pretending like shane and ryan are out little baby beans and then calling steven evil and whatnot isn't okay. they can all be held equally accountable. though i do somewhat understand being the most disappointed in shane, as he's the one who speaks on shit like eating the rich the most, and is generally more outward with his ideals, so it's perfectly reasonable to feel betrayed more deeply. but bottom line is they're all equally accountable for this decision.

some shit we can't take back. i probably got pissed and said some weird/uncool shit initially because of the intense emotions i was dealing with, which other people amplified. i do regret some of the things i've said to a point when it comes to being hateful, but i can't just un-say it all, so i'm not even going to try. i'm going to leave everything be and allow it to serve as something to look back on for what not to do in future circumstances. while this new path for watcher is, in my opinion, not the smartest and generally really shitty, they're human beings who make mistakes, and they deserve our acknowledgement of that.

in short, i don't like it but i'll stop being a bitch about it because they don't deserve that. also sorry for the wall of (probably incoherent lmao) text i got passionate <3

edit 2: guys. im screaming. the apology was amazing imo and i genuinely think they really mean it, like it doesn't seem bullshitted. i think they realized they fucked up for reals and feel bad. im so happy for them, but also for us as fans. yay :D

#watcher #watcher entertainment #we are watcher #shane and ryan #ryan bergara #ghoul boys #shane madej #i cant even bring myself to type 'all hail the watcher' as a tag anymore #sighhh