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magics-neptunes-things · 3 months

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Hi guys!

This new chapter is a little bit more angsty but also very sweet 😇

Please enjoy!

TW : Injury, nightmares, mention of bad past, angst.

PART 1 I PART 2 I PART 3 I PART 4 I PART 5 | PART 7

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You didn’t give Alessia all the reasons for your nightmares, not because you don’t trust her, but because you don’t want to put her in front of the darkness of some people. When you see her the next morning for breakfast, Leah singing in the shower, it was without daring to look at her that you spoke.

"Less?"

"Mhm?"

Lost in her thoughts until now, the blonde looked up at you. You are leaning against the island of your kitchen while Alessia is seated at the table. You are never very in talking much in the morning, both needing time to wake up.

"You know, for last night…"

"You don’t have to explain anything to me" Alessia kindly assured you with a smile. "It’s okay"

"I know" you answered with a slight smile back. "It’s just that sometimes my dreams are a little too realistic. Things have happened in my past, but… well, you know."

It’s a very awkward explanation, but the blonde didn’t seem to want to hold it against you.

"And thank you, for staying and being there for me" you mutter shyly.

"You would have done the same for me"

The calm, safe tone that Alessia used made you look up at her. She’s not wrong, obviously.

"Yeah. I know you already have your share of best friends, but I’m happy with the place you’re taking in my life. You’re more like a sister to me than a simple friend"

Alessia’s chair rattles on the floor when she gets up, something that would have made you moan in everyday life. But since it’s to offer you one of her biggest teddy bear hugs, you don’t take the time to scold her, choosing to hug her back.

"I love you too" she whispers affectionately, rubbing your back.

Even if it’s not exactly what you told her, you understand the message and you hug her back even harder. That’s when Leah showed up in the kitchen, ready for today’s game.

"Molesting my girlfriend again, Russo?"

********

You and Leah are in the restaurant face to face when you talk about the subject that has been bothering you for a few days. It’s not a huge stress, but you’re wondering how to approach it, fearing a negative response from Leah.

The evening is going well, you have already come twice to this restaurant and each time you liked it very much. The choices are not multiple, but there is enough to satisfy your cravings for culinary discoveries and the list of foods rather restraint tolerated by Leah. The blonde is breathtaking in her outfit, once again, and you are happy to see that she made this clothing effort just for you.

It’s at dessert that you finally broach the subject, swinging nervously on your chair.

"Besides, I was wondering… do you have any plans while I’m away?"

You are called to training camps for the national team, Norway having to pass the play-offs to qualify for the next competition. With England already being on, Leah is kind of on vacation next week.

"No, not really. Probably spending time with my family, seeing Alex… that kind of things. Why?"

Leah looks at you curiously over her ice cream and you play mechanically with your spoon and a piece of cake.

"Would you like to come with me?"

"In Norway?"

You nod at her, without daring to look at her. The only time you offered it to Alina, she laughed and asked what the hell she would do there. You may not have chosen the best time since it was in summer and most people prefer to fly somewhere warm, but still.

"I thought I could show you some places I like and grew up in. And my parents have really wanted to meet you, since I’ve been talking to them about you. You can say no, if you don’t want to. There is no pressure and I will understand."

Leah’s hand gently settles on yours, making you look up at it immediately and stop your rambling.

"I'll come with pleasure Honey."

The simple answer makes you feel so relieved that you feel like your anxiety is deflating like a balloon.

"Yeah?"

"Of course"

"Awesome"

You can’t mask your smile, which makes Leah laugh softly. Her hand gets loose from yours when she starts eating her ice cream again, but you don’t take it personally. You have neither confirmed nor denied the rumors of relationship between you, preferring to live your story day by day. Plus, who are you against a mint chocolate chips ice cream?

Leah asks you what kind of clothes she needs to take and you laugh when she pouts when she learns the temperature differences between London, Oslo and your hometown. You have already spoken to her several times about your parents and she doesn’t seem otherwise stressed at the idea of meeting them. She’s right, you know your parents are going to love her very much. You’ve been working on it for a long time now anyway.

"Oh and there will surely be Mapi with Ingrid too" you inform Leah with a little amused smile.

"Excuse me?"

********

A few days later, you are on the plane to Norway, with some of your compatriots but especially Leah. You have another flight of a few hours to reach Tromsø, where you lived and grew up until you were stupid enough to want to run away with your first girlfriend to a bigger city. Having met her on the Internet, you have no memories with her in this city, which pleased Leah rather well. It’s not exactly the same for Oslo, but we’ll talk about it later.

Your parents, delighted to have their only child for a few days, have both picked you up at the airport. If Leah hasn’t been stressed in the last few days, she seems to have skyrocketed in the last half hour and the blonde didn’t stop talking for a single second. It made you laugh, but remembering how stressed you were when you officially met Leah’s relatives, you patiently answered each of her questions.

"It’s going to be ok Babe" you smile when you see her playing nervously with the tag of her suitcase while waiting to pass the security.

Since you are behind her, you step forward to put a kiss just behind her ear and you smile as you feel her letting her go against you. In recent days, it was rather her role to reassure you, the blonde fearing that your nightmares came back constantly. That hasn’t been the case, but Leah’s increased attention to you hasn’t been unpleasant. Especially because it means you get even more hugs and kisses than usual.

You have one of the biggest hug from both of your parents at the same time, before detaching from them to turn to Leah and make the introductions. As you might have guessed, the first contact is more than successful. Your parents speak English very well, which is lucky. Leah speaks a few words of Norwegian that you taught her, but she might not be able to have an ongoing conversation in that language.

On the way home, your parents ask you about the trip and your level of fatigue. If you slept during the first flight, the second not. They also inquire about what you are planning to show Leah over the next few days, also informing you that they are planning a dinner with some of your family members. Your cousin will come to see you play in Oslo too, this will allow Leah to meet her before finding herself with her in the stands of the football stadium. Your parents will be there too.

Dinner goes well (you made sure to give your mother the list of things Leah eats) and the kindness of your parents seem to help Leah relax quickly. You show her the house of your childhood, finding your bedroom that you had at the time.

It's a fairly simple room whose only large window overlooks your garden. Your double bed is glued against the back wall in the middle of the wall with your collection of stuffed animals. Your black carpet on which you have spilled paint hundreds of times above is at the feet of it, giving in your opinion an artistic touch to the latter. There are old trophies you won with your football teams on a shelf, a desk full of memories and useless things in its drawers and dozens of photos hanging on the wall.

"Is that you?" laughs Leah as she approaches the photos on one of your bedroom walls, picturing you behind your first birthday cake.

"No, that's the neighbor" you answer with a grin.

Leah laughs again and you let her discover your room quietly, taking the opportunity to join the bathroom adjoining your room to change and refresh a little. You see Leah entering the bathroom too from the mirror, which allows you not to jump when she sticks to you to put kisses on your cheek.

"How are you feeling?" you ask the pretty blonde.

"Good. Your parents are adorable, but it’s not surprising when you see their daughter" Leah says maliciously.

You roll your eyes and close the water tape, then turn in her arms to put your arms around her neck. That’s all Leah needed to put her head on your neck and put some kisses in it.

"What about you?" she asks between two of her kisses.

"I’m glad you’re here" you smile.

********

The next two days were spent in Leah discovering your hometown, your favorite places and different members of your family. As you would expect, Leah are doing perfectly well in the setting, getting along wonderfully with everyone. Despite the difficulty of the language sometimes, but you gladly play the interpreters between the two different worlds. Only the cold seems to be a bit of a problem for Leah, but you are in the very north of Norway, even further north than if you were in Iceland.

One day before the day set by the Norwegian federation, you fly back to Oslo. You managed to get a room for Leah in the same hotel where your team is staying and you’re counting on your family to keep Leah busy during practice. You don’t know yet whether you’ll be able to slip into her room at night, but you’ll see. For the moment you share the hotel room with Leah and it suits you very well like that.

While waiting for the gathering, you show Oslo to Leah and you have an appointment for lunch with Ingrid and Mapi. The idea that the two blondes meet makes you laugh a lot and you know that it’s the same thing for Ingrid.

"Does she speak English?" asks Leah as you join the restaurant where you are supposed to meet.

"She understands it very well but answers Ingrid in Spanish. But I'm talking English with her, even if she speaks great Norwegian. Anyway, I never had any problems communicating with her."

Leah drops a little grunt as a simple answer and you roll your eyes. You managed to get from Leah that this tension would have been born since the elimination of Spain during the Euro, which is in your opinion a little futile.

"You’d better pass over. Ona and Lucy don’t seem to have this problem" you noted with amusement.

"Don’t count on me to coo with Maria Leon" grumbled at Leah.

"I don’t ask that much" you laughed before changing the subject.

You are the first arrivals and you inform Ingrid of your presence once seated at the table. Leah asks you some more questions about the city, which you answer with pleasure, happy to see your girlfriend take so much interest in your native country.

A few minutes later Ingrid and Mapi arrive, and you get up to greet them, imitated by Leah.

(The words in italics are in Norwegian but for the good of all I have not translated them)

"It’s good to see you" Ingrid smiles, hugging you before looking at you. "You look good."

"It’s fresh Norwegian air" you joke, before resuming in English. "Ingrid, this is Leah. Leah, this is Ingrid."

You let your best friend greet Leah, knowing your girlfriend is in good hands when you hear Ingrid greet Leah in a joyful tone. You turn towards Mapi, to whom you also give a hug. You then turn to Leah to redo the presentations, between Mapi and her this time. The exchange is a little more tense than with Ingrid and you roll your eyes when you see them shaking hands, but it’s already that.

The conversations finally go very well, even if Ingrid and you are very often the ones who link things. Leah’s hand settled right at the beginning of the meal naturally on your knee and you didn’t hesitate to interlace your fingers.

After the meal, you decide to take advantage of the mild weather (the term makes Mapi snorts) to go for a walk a little more. You know you’ll see Ingrid again in the next few days, but if your respective girlfriends can get along well and discover commonalities, why not.

"Hot chocolate?" offers Ingrid when you walk past a hot drink stand to take away.

"I’m coming to help you" you tell Ingrid, dropping Leah’s hand to follow her to the booth.

"I like her" immediately announces Ingrid in line to get your drinks. "You did well about listen to yourself"

You smile softly, your chaotic beginnings being far behind you now. Well, only a few months but a lot has already happened between you and you feel so good with the blonde that you have the impression that all this is far behind you.

"She’s great, really" you answer always smiling.

"And you look so happy" Ingrid adds without leaving your face with her eyes.

"I am" you confirm sincerely.

You have no trouble supporting Ingrid’s inquisitive gaze, which nods with her smile. You don’t have to add anything to convince her, but she will tell you a little later that she already was just by hearing you on the phone.

"Look at them" you laugh softly pointing at your two blondes.

Ingrid follows your gaze on Leah and Mapi, both talking from the tip of their lips at eachother as if they were afraid of being seen by someone. The scene seems to amuse Ingrid as much as you since she also laughs before it’s your turn to order.

Your return is greeted with a big smile on both sides and if Leah isn't begged to recover her hot chocoalt, she also doesn’t hesitate to put her arm around your waist. There are fewer people on the streets of Oslo than in London, but if Leah is spotted in the stands of your next match, people will probably quickly draw the right conclusions.

It’s finally in the late afternoon that you say goodbye to the couple who must join Ingrid’s family for dinner. You propose to Leah to show her the citadel, the nightfall offering you magnificent colors. Leah graciously accepts when you ask her to take pictures together before you return to the hotel.

It’s on the way back that your eyes are hung by a shop front that you know rather well. Your glance is noticed very quickly by Leah, who slows down a little. She understands very quickly.

"Do you mind if we say hello?" you ask Leah.

She seems to hesitate a little and you gently tighten her fingers in yours, trying to make her understand that you will respect her answer regardless of her nature.

"I guess" she finally answers, shrugging her shoulders.

You drag her to the tattoo shop, the doorbell ringing when you open it. It hasn’t changed much since the last time you came, except that other drawings were added to the wall. Leah quickly spots your signed football shirt on the wall.

"Y/N"

Leah’s eyes follow the sound of the voice to fall on a young woman of your age, whom she hadn’t seen. The girl gets up from the desk behind which she was half hiding, resting the pencil she had in her hand to come to you. Well, right up to you because she’s hugging you for a warm embrace. What annoys Leah a little, she was often talked about Spanish and their tactile side but she was never warned that in Norway we also went without stopping touching her girlfriend.

"I didn’t expect to see you! How are you?"

"I’m fine" you answer with a smile, casually getting out of her arms to introduce Leah.

You slide an arm in the hollow of her back to advance her to your height, resuming in English.

"Nora, this is Leah. My girlfriend."

If the blonde couldn’t help but feel a touch of jealousy, she can only smile when seeing the smile and the pride with which you designate her. Finally the ball is put back in the center quickly, she thinks, before extending her hand to the tattooist to greet her.

"I don’t speak good English" Nora apologizes to Leah.

After your blonde assured her that it was fine like this, Nora’s attention turns to you and you exchange your latest news. You didn’t lie to Leah, you didn’t have any recent contacts, the jersey she hung on her living room wall was from the last international game you played before moving to Manchester. Leah quickly notices this by paying more attention to the frame. She also realizes that a photo of you and your tattoo are displayed just below, under your jersey.

What she doesn’t appreciate is the affectionate tone with which Nora seems to talk to you. Leah therefore takes care not to let go of your hand for a single second during your exchange.

"Does she know about us?" asks curiously Nora after a few minutes.

As if she had understood that you were talking about her, Leah looks away from the photos of tattoos displayed on the wall to report her attention on you two. You smile at her before you answer Nora.

"Yes. I don’t think there’s much she doesn’t know about me" you answer honestly and shrug your shoulders.

You are interrupted by another couple of clients entering the establishment and Nora apologizes for taking care of them, letting you drag Leah a little back from the entrance.

"If you tell me that it’s on her tattoo table that you did your disgusting business, I’ll burn the store" whispers Leah from the corner of her lips.

You laugh softly as you hear her, glancing at her in astonishment. You did notice Leah’s touch of jealousy at first, but there was nothing special about the rest of your conversation.

"This isn't where we did our disgusting business, likeyou say" you smile and roll your eyes. "You can calm your inflammatory tendencies. Plus, I have done way more disgusting things with you, Williamson."

"Not if she keeps looking at you like she does" the blonde grumbled, ignoring the second part of your sentence.

"Don’t be jealous" you say while tiptoeing to put a kiss on her cheek.

"You slept with her"

"It was a long time ago. I find the best one since"

"Hm."

You roll your eyes one more time and you cross her eyes without letting go of your smile. Leah ends up not being able to hold her smile and you deposit a new kiss, on the corner of her lips this time.

********

A few hours later, in your hotel room, you find yourself awake very early in the morning. Which is surprising since usually Leah almost have to push you out of bed. When you look at the time on your phone, you realize it’s barely 5:00 in the morning. And no matter how hard you try to go back to sleep, you can’t. Your mind flies over the different places in Oslo that you visited with Leah.

And the part that you’ve carefully avoided, afraid of running into Helena. You don’t know if she still lives here, you don’t know what happened to her either. But you could still find the house in which she lives (lived?) very easily. Without giving yourself too much time to think, you end up getting out of bed by taking all the precautions to not wake Leah. You dress quickly and before looking for what drives you to do this, you find yourself in the streets of Oslo in the direction of Helena’s house.

As you expected, you quickly find the way to this place that you hate more than anything. The lights are on upstairs and you take care not to being visible from where you are. With the day beginning to rise, you can observe the garden and see that it is still poorly maintained. The walls are even more decrepit than before and when a silhouette passes in front of the window without curtains you suddenly freeze.

It’s her.

But, unlike the last times you saw her, you didn’t feel the terror that inhabited you in her presence. Which is intriguing and difficult for you to understand. Then, finally, you realize that you don’t care. You can’t say that you don’t feel any negative emotions when you think about her, but you don’t care what she’s become.

On the other hand, thinking about the panic that Leah could feel if she wakes up without seeing you by her side makes you retrace your steps.

Leah is still asleep when you find your hotel room, but she quickly starts moving as soon as you get rid of your shoes and coat. You get back on the bed and put a hand in her hair, only now realizing your body temperature difference.

"Your hands are freezing" Leah complains, shivering, trying to stick against you probably to regain a little warmth.

"I'm sorry" you mumble while laying a kiss on the top of her head.

It only takes a few seconds for Leah to realize that you are no longer wearing your pajamas, stepping back to better observe you. Her eyebrows are frowned when she looks at your clothes and her eyes are uncertain when she rises on yours.

"Where did you go?"

"I went to Helena’s"

You didn’t hesitate a second to tell her the truth, but you flinch when you see Leah's face drops.

"Why? What happened?"

"Nothing. It’s okay Babe"

But Leah doesn’t seem convinced and even seems to have trouble understanding what pushed you to go there. And honestly, you wouldn’t be able to explain why either. Actually, you recognize a little of panic in her eyes and in her voice when she talks again.

"Did you talk to her?"

"No" you answer by shaking your head, taking her hand in yours to play with her fingers. "I didn’t see her either, just out the window. Nothing changed there, it’s still creepy and poorly maintained."

"Why didn’t you ask me to come with you? If something had happened to you, I wouldn’t have even known where to get you Y/N, you’re completely unconscious"

"Leah stop, I’m fine"

Leah looks at you with a skeptical air before suddenly drawing you against her by mumbling things far too quickly and too low for you to understand something. But you let her do it, pressing your face on her chest and letting your hands slide on her arms.

"Never do that again. Never leave without telling me where you're going."

"Promise" you sigh softly, lulled by the beating of her heart and her arms around you.

"No sleeping now" Leah grumble while tickling your ribs.

"Leah" you moan, wriggling on her to avoid her fingers.

"I’m serious Y/N. If anything happened to you…"

You quickly understand that under her grumpy air, there is also a great deal of concern. So you hurry up to look at her. It will be necessary to quickly clarify your ideas to try to make her understand what you have done.

"Nothing will happen to me, Babe. I think I just needed to see this place again to realize where I am now. To realize how far I’ve come since. And to realize how lucky I am, too."

"It has nothing to do with luck. You’ve worked a lot to get where you are" Leah says, finally relaxing a bit.

"I wasn’t just talking about football" you point out with a smirk. "But the beautiful blonde in my bed, too."

Leah laughs while hearing you and you take advantage of her change of mood to deposit several kisses on her face, in the hollow of her neck and about every square centimeter of her skin that you can reach.

********

The match being important, the training camps were rather harsh and severe. You get up early in the morning to have breakfast with the team before going to train until lunch. A short walk through Oslo follows to relax before resuming training for the afternoon. In the late afternoon you have either physical strengthening or other activities such as swimming pool or other things that are supposed to increase your chances of winning.

Needless to say, when you return to your room at night, you are exhausted. Luckily Leah continues to discover Norway with your parents or cousin, or all three, which doesn’t make you feel too guilty for bringing her here without being able to take full care of her. The team is staying in the same hotel, three floors below Leah’s room. You managed to sneak into Leah’s room several times during the stay, regaining the comfort and benefits of her arms.

The massages and baths she offers you are much more pleasant than the care provided by the team caregivers, we will not lie.

The day of the game comes quickly and you learn that you will be part of the eleven players of the beginning of the game. You play against Italy, a team that you don’t know too well but that has shown its qualities many times. You are not extremely confident, but as you have nothing to lose it’s with some form of conviction that you join the field.

The stadium is pretty full and when you listen to the Italian national anthem, you look for Leah in the family area. You can’t help but smile when you see her, even if you quickly realize that she put on a Norway team jersey over her jacket. When she realizes that you are looking at her, she turns around before pointing to the back of the jersey. If you can’t read the name from where you are, you have no problem recognizing the number. And it’s yours.

"If that’s not dedication" mumbles Guro next to you with an amused smile.

You give her a quick look in turn, before greeting the Italian players who parade in front of you. You spotted Mapi a few rows above Leah and your family in the bleachers, all also dressed in a Norwegian jersey.

As you might have guessed, the game is physical and tactfully hard. Italy play in a rather rough way, each time flirting with the limit of the yellow card. So you find yourself quite often on the ground and it starts hitting on your nerves from the middle of the first half. You swear in Norwegian when the referee whistles after another tackle against you, accepting Ingrid’s hand to help you get up.

"Don’t let them get in your head, that’s exactly what they want. Stay focus." Ingrid tells you before joining the players standing close to the goal to try and get the free kick to the bottom of the net.

In Arsenal, it’s Katie who shoots the free kicks, but in the Norway team, it’s you who does it. You have been watching her a lot over the last few months, her kick and the precision she shows have always given you a lot of admiration. Even when you played her in Manchester City. Trying to remember the advices she gave you over time, you exhale before you step out of the ball to hit it.

You have the impression that it flies in slow motion, before finding the head of Vilde Bøe Risa and finishing at the bottom of the nets. The shouts of the crowd suddenly resound and you quickly join the rest of your teammates to celebrate the goal. You smile when you feel a few of them tapping on the head to congratulate yourself, returning to your place to allow the match to resume. When you look towards Leah, you can only smile when she raises her thumb in your direction.

It’s only with a small advantage on the counter that you find the changing rooms, but as your coach says, it’s better than nothing. You take advantage of the warmth of the changing rooms to warm up a little, accompanied by a hot tea. When you find the ground fifteen minutes later, the cold is still present but it seems to you less unpleasant.

Italy manages to equalize at the sixtieth minute, but thanks to a good pass from Ingrid you manage to allow Norway to regain the advantage about ten minutes later. The tension is palpable as the minutes pass the contacts become even more brutal than before.

And what was to happen happened.

It’s in the eighty-eighth minutes that you are again launched towards the goal.

You know that if you manage to score, it will definitely qualify your team. So you try to ignore your painful muscles and the different bruises that will definitely mark your body in a few hours to move away at full speed towards the opposing goalkeeper.

You only have one opponent to eliminate to get there, but she seems determined not to let you pass. The tackle you undergo is far from clean, your leg gripped in pincers between her two, emiting a sinister crack when you fall back on the ground.

The pain is immediate and so intense that you cannot hold back a real cry of pain. With your face leaning against the grass, you try to grab your leg to try to reduce the pain but you release it quickly when you understand your mistake. You’re in such pain that you can’t figure out exactly where you’re hurt.

Above you, an argument quickly broke out between several of your teammates and the player responsible for the tackle. The medical team is quickly at your side and you can’t help but push their hands when they start examining your leg.

"Don’t touch me" you beg by turning on your back.

Mixed up in the argument, Ingrid ends up shifting her attention to you by hearing the talking you have with the doctors. When she kneels beside you, one of the doctors quickly asks her to hold your hands to let them work. Ingrid obeys, letting you grab her hands as hard as you can.

Your best friend looks up at the family stands in front of you. She can therefore see that Leah has left her seat and moved as close to the field as possible, seeking to see as best as possible what is happening. Her face is twisted by worry, but what surprises Ingrid above all is to see that Mapi joined her and put a hand probably supposed to be comforting on Leah’s shoulder.

At their side, your parents and your cousin don’t seem to be particularly comfortable either.

Her eyes then rest on you when you are given morphine, before transferring to a stretcher. You leave the field under applause, but the pain and fear of the reality of your injury don’t allow you to appreciate them. Stretcher movements give you intense pain and you have to bite your hands so you don’t scream again. It’s a real relief when morphine finally takes effect some minutes after.

On the field, the end of the game is quickly whistled after the incident. When Ingrid joins her family and yours, she hugs Mapi while being having to answer hundred questions from your parents.

"Is it her ACL?" is the only question Leah asks.

"I don’t know" sighs Ingrid shaking her head, always in Mapi's arms. "She was... She wasn't able to say where exactly her pain was. I can try to get you into the locker room and infirmary if she hasn’t already left for the hospital. But maybe not everyone."

"Go ahead, Leah" your mother replies almost immediately, tapping on the blonde’s shoulder.

Leah hesitates for a split second, not wanting to interfere with the needs and desires of her in-laws. But one look at your father is enough to convince her and she skillfully jumps over the fence.

Ingrid trains her more or less discreetly towards the tunnel to reach the inside of the stadium, exchanging only a few words with your national coach in Norwegian. Obviously Leah doesn't understand a word of it, she only has in mind to be able to find you and know what you have.

Only a few dozen minutes have passed since the shock and your injury, but it seems to you that it's rather long hours. Despite the morphine, you continue to feel spikes of pain. You have never felt such intense pain and you find yourself having to focus on the painting of the ceiling to not lose consciousness.

After three knocks against the door, it opens slowly, letting your best friend and girlfriend pass.

"Leah" you manage to croak and she rushes towards you.

One of her hand squeezes your hand and the other gently caresses your hair while her eyes search for yours.

"What did they say?" Leah asks

"Nothing" you admit pitifully "They were waiting for morphine to take effect, it was hurting to much until now"

Speaking of which, you see two doctors come back inside the room and Ingrid slips away without having laid a kiss on your forehead. And after getting Leah’s promise to keep her informed.

Some new swearing in Norwegian escapes from your lips when they start auscultating you, Leah mentally promises herself to ask you about it in a few days. But right now she’s too busy sympathizing with your pain and looking for a way to turn you away from what’s happening.

"Did we win at least?"

"Yeah. 2-1. You were amazing by the way, we’re gonna have to fight to keep you at Arsenal if you keep playing that well."

You roll your eyes but you are quickly brought to the heart of the matter by the main doctor. He speaks Norwegian, so you have to translate it to Leah.

"What did he say?"

"He thinks it’s a fracture. They’ll transfer me to the hospital."

"At least it’s not your ACL" Leah sighs of relief.

You grimace before addressing the doctor again, asking if it's possible that someone could bring the things you left in the locker room.

Ingrid brings them to you, already changed and showered when she appears. Your parents, your cousin and Mapi follow her. All these people are not allowed to follow you to the hospital, but you reassure them as much as possible. You promise once again to keep them informed and you kiss them before going to the ambulance. Quickly realizing that it's impossible to put your foot on the ground or even hop while holding on to Leah, you are pushed on a bed to the vehicle.

Arriving at the hospital, you enjoy being able to wash yourself, with the precious help of Leah. You sigh with despair when you have to put on one of these hospital gowns, but this gives you the right to have access to a room and it's always more pleasant than the ambient noise of the reception of the emergency.

You leave Leah for a few moments to go for the scanner and she's eating the vanilla pudding of your meal tray when you come back.

"You hate vanilla" she exclaims for an excuse with an innocent face when you look at her with an half amused-half severe smile.

It also turns out that this is the only food that the blonde likes on what is offered on this set. You eat without much conviction under the insistence of Leah, the blonde certifying that she promised your mother to take care of you and that it begins by ensuring that you eat properly.

You both doze off when the doctors come back with your test results, you on your bed and Leah in a chair next to you. The blonde stubbornly refused to lie next to you despite your insistence, being too afraid to hurt you.

Leah’s frustration is at its height when you are given information in your native language, not understanding any of the words spoken. There is no similarity between these two languages and she wonders how you learned to speak English so well under these conditions.

"So?" she asks barely a second after the doctor has finished talking.

"Tibial tray fracture" you mumble

"Do you need surgery?"

You shake your head negatively, a little stunned by all this. You are interrupted by the doctor who tells you a few more words before leaving the room, shaking your hand then Leah's.

********

The night at the hospital was complicated for you, apart from the pain that kept you awake for many hours, you had to be taken away so that they put a cast that you will have to keep for a few weeks, before changing it for a splint. The only time you got your smile back was when you could choose the color of your blast.

"Red" you answered without hesitation.

"Red?" Leah asked when she saw the nurses preparing the mixture.

"If I have to stay stuck in the bleachers for a few weeks, I might as well match the colors of Arsenal"

You shrugged, trying to hide your sadness from this idea. Leah went through a lot more difficult than that and you don’t want to impose your moods on her. But she seems to have perfected her ability to read your thoughts since she immediately raised your face gently for you to look at her.

"Oh no, not that. You have the right to be sad, you have the right to be angry and you have the right to blame the whole world. But you don’t have the right to shut yourself up and not talk about how you feel. You don’t have to tell me if you’d rather confide to Less or someone else, but don’t shut yourself. Please."

Throat knotted, you couldn’t say anything, so you just nodded. That was enough for Leah who laid a tender kiss on your cheek.

"And you can count on me to be there every step of the way"

"I know" you smiled softly

With you and Leah not leaving until two days later, you mostly stayed in your hotel room after leaving the hospital. You have been busy for a long time with the various calls and messages you have received from many of your relatives. Instead of calling you once a week, your mother called you every day. And of course you got calls from Ingrid, Leila, Laia, Alessia (who in the meantime changed her name in your phone by Sis ✨), Katie and finally almost all of Arsenal.

"Nice free kick" told you Katie when she called you via FaceTime "I will have competition to take it at Arsenal, it’s good."

When you flew back to London and you’ve never been happier living in an elevator building. All that remains is to hope that it doesn’t break down for the next six weeks, when you can apparently start walking again without having the leg immobilized.

Leah will keep her promise to not to leave you alone for the slightest minute as she will establish a whole program with the club’s doctors so that your rehabilitation and the strengthening exercises you have to do will be planned at exactly the same times as the workouts of the others. When you’re not at Arsenal facilities, you are at home with her.

And on game days, you watch them play. The next match is against Aston Villa and you regret a little not participating in the game alongside Leah. Being able to beat the team in which your two exes evolve is a little too interesting idea for you, but it will wait next time. Meanwhile, you just follow Leah with your eyes, carefully studying Jordan’s behavior towards her.

Arsenal wins hands down and even if you are disappointed not to play with your team, you are very proud of your teammates. At the end of the match, you follow Lia who was replaced towards the end of the match on the field with your crutches, struggling a little because of the slippery ground. But you quickly reach the height of Alessia that you take in your arms to congratulate her on the goal she scored.

You’re having a hard time finding Leah in the crowd of players and you can’t help but get a little nervous about Jordan getting her before you. It’s however Katie who turns you away from this idea when she suddenly arrives behind you to lift you and begin to carry you like a bride.

"Let go of me, you maniac" you laugh when you see her starting a lap without letting you go.

"Why? Show everyone your cast!"

During one of the lunch breaks, her and Leah worked hard to reproduce the Arsenal logo on your cast and they are both very proud of their work. Your cast also has the names of all your teammates, a cat drawning made by Viv supposed to represent Raven, flowers made by Alessia and an Australian flag made by Kyra.

You roll your eyes, your arms around Katie's neck to stabilize you.

"Uh, the other way please" you mumble realizing that Lia is now exchanging a few words with Alina, right in the direction that Katie is going.

"Oops."

The Irish changes direction, only so that you find yourself facing Leah who looks at you both with fun.

"Can you give me back my girlfriend now please?"

"Dunno. I like her" Katie tease Leah as she tighten you up against her.

"I’m here too, by the way"

You see Caitlin waving her arm with a big smile a few meters from you, making the three of you laugh. When Katie finally puts you down, Leah beckons you to climb on her back, making you frown.

"People are gonna think this is weird, no?"

"Leah was in the stands of your last game with a jersey named after you. What would be weird is that they haven’t figured it out yet" Manu, who joined you, says.

"She’s right" Leah shrugged. "And at worst, we don’t care?"

Since the blonde doesn’t seem to see the slightest inconvenience, you don’t make yourself pray any longer. Leaning on her shoulders, you jump on her back, Leah passing her arms under your thighs so she can carry you properly. You greet the crowd from time to time when you hear your name, talking about everything and nothing with Leah and your teammates.

"So, we don't care right?" You ask Leah after a few minutes.

"Yes, why?"

You’re not answering her question. Instead, you lean over her and kiss her cheek, then the corner of her lips when she turns her head towards you. She grins and you grin back at her.

"Hard launch" Caitlin sings, her arm around Katie's waist.

"Yeah, you're the one to talk" Leah laughs while looking at them.

You didn’t see Jordan after the game and when you ask Alessia a little after, she will tell you that she actually went back to the locker room almost right after the whistle. It probably means to you that seeing you with Leah is difficult for her, probably confirming your theory. But the photos you see on social media a little later, while you are peacefully lying in Leah’s arms in your bed, could alone confirm that the blonde has indeed moved on.

The way she looks at you on those pictures gives you butterflies in your stomach and a wave of affection for her. Leah will only have two seconds to understand what happens to her when you drop your phone on the mattress to go up for her lips and kiss her passionately. She’s yours.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine

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blasphemecel · 4 months

Text

Shidou Ryuusei — Like Teeth

PAIRING: Shidou Ryuusei/Reader WORD COUNT: 3.6k TYPE: Humor, Feelings realization, idfk what this even is but i threw in some surprise fluff at the end WARNING(S): Nsfw jokes but cmon it's shidou you gotta forgive me for finding sex funny this once, play-fighting that doesn't seem very playful, canon-typical mental illness, canon-typical unnecessary dramatics, canon-typical overly intense soccer rivalry NOTE: Reader is a part of the blue lock project but no concrete gender identity or pronouns are specified

It starts like this:

After the freaky nerd from the ceremony whose name you hadn’t bothered remembering finishes with his instructions about this game of tag you’re supposed to be playing, the biggest asshole in the room immediately targets you once he realizes you’re the one with the highest number on your jersey. You trap the ball with ease and then kick it straight into his face with as much power as you can muster, knocking him out, the force sending him reeling.

While the timer continues ticking, no one dares to make a move or even exhale too loudly in your presence, scared you might take their bodily functions as a challenge to your authority. Like every opponent before, they’ve submitted to you.

You stare at the ceiling, your lips set in a tight line, the despair settling in. Just this once, you want to meet someone who can excite you, and you’d hoped this ridiculous place could help.

___

As the top scorer of your pathetic excuse for a team — though behind your back they call you ‘the top red card holder,’ but considering how far up your own ass your head is, you’re yet to pay attention to this remark — by the second qualifying match they already know to pass the ball to you no matter what. In your defense, you’re not any more tyrannical than the average douche in this competition. It’s not your fault they’re too worthless to do what you can.

Two of the opponents are blocking your path, and you shuffle the ball between your feet trying to get the positioning right while they attempt to steal it. Everyone is making noises, but they never mean anything to you. You back up once you’ve felt that the stars have aligned and strike the ball through the tight opening between their bodies, taking the first goal of the match.

“You’re good!”

You blink, the words bringing you out of your perpetual trance to look at the guy in front of you. He starts rambling some nonsense about explosions and how he’s going to beat the ass of anyone who can’t give a good show and you think at some point he has started finding new roundabout ways of saying that he basically wants to bust a nut on the field. It is absurd. You understand it down to your bones, except maybe the last thing. For the first time, everything is coming into view. You can make out his face and you can hear his words and you see your teammates in your peripheral vision. How you didn’t notice him before, what with the hairstyle and his cartoonishly beautiful eyelashes, you’re not sure, but you’ve never been more present during a game before.

“Alright, gyaru,” you say. “Show me how you explode.”

“Gyaru?” he tilts his head, grin wide like a demon’s. “You think I’m pretty?”

Though Jinpachi Ego officially writes down what ensues as a round-robin tourney in his notes, the spectators (meaning literally anyone else who was in your physical proximity) would describe it as ‘The Longest Dick Measuring Contest They’ve Ever Seen.’

The way he moves fascinates you like nothing else. Just like you, he is a creature of instinct. You both circle around while trying to score or steal the ball, only to find that stopping the other is impossible.

After this match, two monsters glance at each other and think, ‘Maybe there is someone out here who understands me.’

___

There are still jitters in your veins. You can’t sleep. Is it ridiculous and maybe parasocial that the thought of ‘I want to see this guy again’ is keeping you up at night? Yeah, probably. You also feel like a creep lying down in the dark with your eyes wide open, yearning to bulldoze through something like you do when you want to calm down.

Frustrated, you slip out of the futon and leave the room while the rest of them are sleeping. The hallways let out ominous flickers, trailing after you while your steps echo and bounce off the walls. This building looks like a prison, you think, though you hadn’t noticed before.

You hate to think that your desperation is so strong you’ve developed the power of manifestation overnight, but when you step inside of the training room, he’s already there. He doesn’t have the decency to seem surprised at your entrance when you close in on him. His arms are crossed and he has a smug aura about him, but for the love of everything you cannot comprehend why he’s standing there doing nothing. At least you planned on being productive when you headed here with your plan to obliterate whatever you could get your hands on. Just so happens it’s him that you found.

The weird silence stretches, but it doesn’t bother either of you because as it turns out you have the same kind of social incompetence. You realize you don’t even know the guy’s name, but he declares, “You really came.”

You don’t really know what he means by this considering you didn’t arrange to meet here beforehand, but he’s saying it as if this was some unanimous agreement you came to earlier. “Waiting for me in the middle of the night all by yourself, handsome?”

“Every cell in my body was calling out to yours,” he says as if it explains anything. His expression is bordering on maniacal. Anyone else might’ve realized this was a bad idea, read the warning signs, but to someone like you who has lived their entire life sleepwalking, the excitement of such a strange encounter is addictive. “We’re the same… That’s why you felt it.”

“In that case, please avoid summoning me so late,” you say. “I value good sleep.”

He cannot tell if you’re just taking the piss or if you’re on the same page, but it’s rare that anyone entertains him when he says anything of that nature. To him, this is an amusing turn of events. “They say you’re some kinda unhinged delinquent. ‘s that true?”

“Sure, if that’s what you call putting a few sorry bums down in their place after they crossed me.”

“So you know how to scrap too, right?”

Right now, Shidou Ryuusei is like a kid at the candy store. You can’t discern any reason for him to swing at you, but he does, smiling all the while. After you respond to his provocation with a duck and a kick of your own — you avoid using your hands for anything if you can avoid it, finding it beneath you — you decide to consider this your friendly introduction to each other.

If he wants to coax the crazy out of you with his punches, then you’re trying to get him to settle down every time you retaliate, daring him to pipe down and turn boring just like everyone else. You’re not sure for how long you duke it out, but at some point you grow sloppy, and the last you remember of it before succumbing to your exhaustion is the last round of boneless slaps you offered each other.

___

Two of your teammates hatefully watch you and Shidou from across the cafeteria. You’re a selfish and insensitive person, of course, they know that. Before this, you’d always eat alone, but ever since the match where they were forced to watch you two flex on them, you’d hang out with him. Still, “I can’t believe [L/n] would rather have a romantic dinner with the only goddamn bastard in this goddamn building who gets better meals than share with us! I’m sick of this natto.”

“You’re telling me,” the other boy says, sadly eating a radish.

This must be an advanced form of psychological torture administered by Ego himself. Even if you don’t notice the audience, Shidou seems to be reveling in the negative attention. They can only watch and drool while you two push at each other and try to steal ingredients. At some point, you put Shidou in a suplex, making him cough out something. Then he wrestles his way out of your maneuver and shoves your head into your plate, forces you up again, and licks the food off your face while you scowl at him.

“I’d hardly call that a romantic dinner, though.”

“A guy from blondie’s team said he caught them asleep on top of each other in the training facility once.”

“Do you think they’re-?!”

“Oh my god, they’re…!”

They scream and point at each other and then hug as if traumatized. To add insult to injury, your voice rings from afar, “Are your eyes really pink? There’s no way that’s natural,” while some of the sauce still sticks to your skin.

“What? You think I’m some kinda fake?” asks Shidou, apparently offended.

“I’m gonna expose you, trust.”

How are you blowing everyone in your cell out of the water in terms of performance? You have to be the dumbest person in this entire wing.

___

“I want you,” he says.

Granted, this is out of context, but you still find that the words have some effect on you. But this won’t do no matter how hard you want to give in. With the first stage of the second selection cleared, you can’t continue as you are. You’ve been complacent in your talent. To expand your abilities, you need to observe whatever other powerful players there are in here instead of still chasing after him. Even the wet wipes on your old team have started catching up.

Besides, you’d always thought your appeal to him is as an opponent, someone who he wants on the other side of the field to face off against, and now Shidou is demanding to work together with you.

“I was in a coma before I met you,” you say. He pinches his eyebrows together, which is probably the first time you’ve seen him pull such an expression. To think you have the ability to utter something so strange, it weirds out even Shidou. “You pulled me out of it, but now I need to see other things, too.”

“If you tell me you wanna go watch other guys, I might get jealous.” Despite the initial waver, he sticks his tongue out at you, trying to be playful like always.

“Don’t say things you don’t mean.”

Shidou grabs you by the collar of your jersey and pushes you against the wall. You blink at him, finding this an inappropriate time for a spar seeing as this is regular enough for him, but then he invades your personal space in a way which doesn’t feel particularly combative, your noses brushing against each other, and he blatantly glances at your lips before closing his eyes. You don’t think about it when you pull him in by the neck, your body reacting to his cues.

It’s not even that great, he’s not really being effective at what he’s doing, mashing your mouth against his almost pointlessly, teeth clashing and all before moving far too quickly onto the tonguing part of making out. Your nails are digging into his neck and his hold against your waist is tight enough to bother you. There’s a latent aggression in it like there is in any other interaction between you two.

And you don’t enjoy this for the surface-level sensations but rather for the strange tightness in your chest, the headrush, the closeness where somehow he’s enveloping you and you’re enveloping him at the same time and it feels like you’re about to fuse. You don’t want to let go yet, maybe under the assumption that if you keep kissing him, he’s going to be polite and return your breath to you.

Steps come near the entrance of the hallway and then, “Ah! Uhhh…”

You snap out of it and push Shidou off of you. He has the gall to look offended, glaring.

There’s some puny kid with a buzz cut, standing there with his confusion clear on his face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt, uh… whatever it was you were doing!” he says in a panic, waving his hands back and forth.

Yeah, that’s a good point. What the fuck were you doing? You just jumped at each other on instinct, ruled by some bizarre, mysterious need.

It must be because the air is so charged between you. Shidou is always in overdrive and he has a penchant for pulling you into his madness. You’re always doing something when you’re together — trading blows, trying to show the other up in soccer, saying heavy-handed things for no reason — and now a moment of stagnancy happened and you both turned into even bigger morons than usual.

He didn’t think about it either, you’re sure. Besides, even if you’re a crazy bastard on the field, you’re not like him. Shidou will meet even stronger players once he advances and he’ll move onto his next obsession. This doesn’t mean anything, at least not to him, you’re convinced.

You untangle yourself from him and ram your shoulder into his as goodbye before lamely saying, “I’m going now,” and offering a nonchalant wave.

He frowns before kicking imaginary dust off the floor. “Sure, fine. Be this way!”

Igaguri isn’t super puritanical or anything. Yeah, he grew up in a temple and all, but seeing two people kiss doesn’t offend his sensibilities. What freaked him out was how you managed to make it look like a fight while you were going at it, and like, he knows the hallway was deserted before he came out of thin air, but this is still a public place. Whatever happened to shame?

And now he has to be in the same vicinity as this scary guy who’s glaring daggers at the spot you were standing in, vein bursting out of his forehead and all, as if you ruined his life by walking out of here. He looks like a manchild who’s sulking because his mom forgot to make him chicken nuggies. A bead of nervous sweat rolls down his forehead.

___

Ever since the beginning, Isagi has been honing his technique, always hungry to add another skill to his repertoire. Rin and Shidou have no synergy; fine, he thinks, it’s not like he really even wants to set up a goal using them. It’s not enough to satisfy him anymore, not after the last match. He’d much rather score himself.

But the problem with the spatial awareness he has developed is that he can’t turn it off at will, or say ‘la-la-la’ and ignore something to focus on what’s important.

Well, being on the same stage as you and Shidou has to be the worst thing of all time. He wants to smell a goal for himself, but the most likely chemical reaction he can predict is one between you two, and you’re not even on the same team. It’s like a ticking time bomb, like those explosions Shidou has been vaguely rambling about, and it permeates the air.

You’ve started adapting his bodily control and precision, almost coming close to scoring with your back on the net. And Shidou has managed to pull off one of ridiculously tight angled shots to break through a two-on-one, passing the ball to Rin. If the phenomenon Isagi observed and achieved before is ‘consumption,’ then he has a first row seat to watch you two cannibalize each other.

The most unfortunate thing is the chase. The ball will come to you, but Shidou will steal it. He’ll be in the air ready to strike, but you’ll sabotage him from below. Isagi recognizes this as an unconscious prediction — on a molecular level, you know where the other one will be, and you’ll race there. It’s like he’s watching both of you swing neon signs and desperately scream ‘Please look at me!’ and overall beg for attention while also stubbornly refusing to make eye contact in fear of rejection.

It is revolting. He wants to gag.

Sure, Ego talked about how luck is a skill and how a pro takes advantage of it, but he never mentioned what to do when someone on his team is living through a low-rated soap opera episode with an opponent. With all of the emotional constipation among the participants of this godforsaken project, he’s sure this won’t be the last time he’ll need it.

___

Sitting down in the middle of practice isn’t productive, but you’re ‘taking a break,’ by which you mean you want to snap someone’s neck. It’s been boring again, ever since Shidou started disregarding your presence. You’re even on the same team now and it’s like you’re no better than air to him.

Of course, you’d predicted he’d find someone new to excite him. You just hadn’t anticipated it’d hurt your feelings. Why do you care, anyway? You should be used to this. The soccer you’ve played has always been selfish and lonely, and moping and jealousy are below you.

But during the match against U-20, you saw him look at Itoshi Sae the same way he first looked at you on the day you met, spouting nonsense with his unique expert-level yappery. And you don’t like that. You don’t like it at all.

He’s off doing his own thing again when you search for him with your eyes. You stand up.

And then you don’t think at all, breaking out into a sprint at full speed.

You’re behind him in the matter of a minute or so, slipping your foot between his and kicking the ball overhead so it lands behind him. He bristles, perhaps at your unwanted company, but you’ve already turned on your heel to run in the other direction.

You’re dribbling the ball when you glance over your shoulder. He’s onto you, trademark grin on his face. You’re not even sure what you’re trying to accomplish here, but all that comes to mind is, It doesn’t matter if it’s going way too fast or way too hard anymore. Just chase after me one more time.

You’re almost all the way over to the other goal, maintaining your lead, when Shidou kicks the ball after lunging around your side. It slips off half-assedly, but you don’t have much time to mock him for his technique because he grabs you by the wrists and pins you down, straddling you to the ground.

“That’s a foul,” you say, displeased.

“I don’t care.” His smile is so big you feel like he’s going to need to visit an orthodontist after you’re done here. The annoying strands of hair he keeps loose are hovering near your face, taunting you.

Your eyes dart again with your head in the fake grass and you see it straying off. “And the ball didn’t make it. To be honest, you were sloppy.”

“I don’t care.”

“You… don’t?”

There’s that sick fluttering feeling in your stomach again and your heart kicks against your chest painfully. Your cheeks are growing warm and you feel uncomfortable by the heat with Shidou so close to you. What the hell is wrong with you? Seriously, he didn’t even tell you a line or anything. He just said ‘I don’t care’ twice. That’s not game! You need to get a grip.

“Yeah, why should I? I’ve got you right where I want you now.”

You raise an unimpressed eyebrow. If making you look like an idiot is his revenge to you for making him mad, then fine, you’re going to pretend you can’t make your way out of his grip with ease.

“You can’t give me a big dopamine hit like that and pull away,” he says, leaning closer. By this point you really can’t see much apart from his big ass head right in your face. Does he even know what he’s implying to you while looking at you straight-on? Does he realize you know his weird euphemisms are all figures of speech for whatever makes him horny?

“What do you mean?”

“Tellin’ me all that romantic stuff and running away…” Shidou narrows his eyes as if the memory is enough to annoy him.

You blink. Oh. You thought he was throwing a temper tantrum because you refused to team up with him. But once again, you’re unimpressed. “So did that turn you on or what? I don’t get it.”

“Well, I’d put it in other words, like, let’s say, hypothetically, maybe you made me explode because you’re an oxidizer and I’m an organic-”

“Ok, I know, but I’m trying to figure out what’s going on here-”

He retreats and rolls away from you, allowing you to sit up again, so you cease talking without reaching the point you were trying to make. It flies out of your head anyway when he links his hand with yours, staring at you, seemingly subdued now. You’re not sure why you’re both acting like shy middle schoolers now while indulging in something so chaste considering you’ve done way more indecent things together, but you intertwine your fingers and offer him a smile. The sight catches him off-guard.

Before he can bask in another achievement (this time being the first person to make you express any kind of joy when everyone knows you’re one distant asshole), a ball hits him straight on the forehead.

Without any preamble, Rin deems it fit to announce his presence by saying, “Your lukewarm displays are appalling. You should both just die.”

You stare at him and then at each other and burst out in laughter, pointing at him. Though you finish your laughing fits at about the same time, you spur on another one by asking, “Do you think he even knows what lukewarm means?”

“No, I seriously doubt it!”

Rin thinks to ask you how come you think it’s chill when your shitty boyfriend or whatever he is says the grossest things imaginable, but suddenly it’s a problem when he wants to say his favorite word, though he doesn’t want to seem too offended or otherwise invested.

___

Im sorry if this is in any way contradictory or shitty or sucks balls I havent slept in 4 days except for a one-off 3 hour nap and wrote this while possessed. Maybe ill sleep again at some point and this will be the worst thing ive ever seen and ill have to delete it. God forbid.

#shidou x reader #shidou ryuusei x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x you

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haileybeehappy · 10 months

Text

Between The Pages

Harry Styles AU

Summary : You are a temp that gets a job as a personal assistant for a semi-reclusive author named Harry Styles. While his regular assistant gives birth and going on maternity leave.

Word Count : 3k

Warnings : I have no idea what being a temp is like so im winging it, older harry, idk, just the starter chapter

Series Masterlist

Being a temp was not where you thought you would be at twenty three years old but here you were in a small office that smelled of copier toner and stale coffee. In an office chair with springs that dug into the backs of your thighs and a cubical neighbor who hummed the most annoying songs very out of tune. So when an email comes across your laptop for a personal assistant position for six weeks you apply immediately. You daydream of getting coffees for fashion designers and picking up celebrities dry cleaning.

So when you get a call to come in for an interview for a semi reclusive writer who was going to need an assistant while his went on maternity leave. Your dreams were a bit crushed, but you went anyways. Anything has to be better than this busy work hell. The interview is at some big office building packed full of important people.

You pulled down the skirt you were wearing to conceal your knees. Feeling cold in the A/C pumped white walled room. The walls lined with old chairs, the fabric sagging and wrinkled. Ancient faded magazines sat on dented coffee tables. The door connected to the room opens and out steps a very pregnant woman. Your name falling from her mouth. You stand and she motions for you to follow.

“So I’m going to be honest,” she says nervously. “You are the only one that has responded to the application that is qualified for it and I don’t have much time,” she tells you as you follow her waddling form down the hallway. “The job is yours if you want it,” she pauses and looks down the left and right sides of the hallways. Contemplating for an second before going right. “We can up it 200 more a week on salary,” she then stops at a door and opens it. You trail her and sit down at a table that is stacked with papers. You sit for a moment and the two of you look at each other. “So?” She asks. Slightly out of breath.

“Oh um,” you ramble. “Do I have to answer now?”

“No but if you do,” she pauses and looks down. Taking a deep breath. “We can do fifteen hundred a week on salary,” she then lets out a small groan and covers it with a cough. “I know it’s a big waving glowing red flag to hire on the spot but not much I can do from here,” her hands grasping at the handles of her chair. The skin on her knuckles stretched white.

“That’s a lot more than advertised,” is all you can think to say.

“Yeah well circumstances have changed and you would need to start tomorrow, maybe today?” She then slowly stands up. Your eyes snap open as she begins to breath heavily.

“Are you in labor?” You pop to a standing position and dash to her side. She shakes her head, pauses then shrugs.

“I don’t know I’ve never been in labor,” she groans. “And I can’t be in labor because I’m not due for another,” a scream like noise escapes her lips as she grasps onto your arm. “Two weeks. And I still have to train youuuu..” her words stretch out to a wail.

“Okay, okay, okay, well I think you are most definitely in labor. We are gonna get you to the hospital and then we can worry about this job stuff okay?” You speak calmly and she nods her head along with your words. The two of you make your way down the lobby passing many New Yorkers who don’t even then to look at the woman groaning and borderline screaming. You hail a cab and clamber into the germ infested back seat. Your hand used as her squeeze toy, your fingers pinched blue and purple and loosing feeling at the ends. “You got this,” we got this, you think. As the cab comes to a stop in front of a hospital you get out and she’s on the phone. Quickly giving you instructions and tasks and rules and people and numbers and emails and everything. Not catching all the information between the contractions. The cab driver seemingly unfazed as you tuck thirty dollars into his hand.

“And I will email you all this stuff once this is over, if it’s ever over,” she groans as she lays in the hospital bed. You are awaiting the arrival of her husband, not wanting to leave her alone. Even if she’s a stranger. “And it’s, it’s a lot. But you can do it. Hell you’re helping me through this. Which you will be paid for,” she laughs. “He is really a nice guy. Just. A little reclusive. He leaves his building, he just doesn’t leave the block. He goes to the Chinese food place and corner store on his block. And occasionally the hot dog stand on the other side of the street. But he needs help with the other stuff. Picking up dry cleaning. Running copies to the office and things like that,” she lets out quickly in two long breaths.

“Okay, okay, okay,” you nod your head. Her hands squeezing yours.

“And if you need anything. Text me. Call me. Um, i probably won’t be getting much sleep anyways,” she chuckles. You nod. “And, and, um, I need you to bring him that envelope in my bag once my husband gets here. He needs that today!” She yells out. And as she lets out a scream the door bursts open and in comes a tall man, long hair tied back into a pony tail.

“Sarah oh my god I’m so sorry,” he rushes to her side. “Baby, I promise I was as fast I could,” she grasps onto him as he comes close enough. You take a step back and wait while they hold each other for a moment. She then turns to you and points the the envelope.

“Take that to the address for Harry Styles, that’s who you will be assisting. I guess you should know that,” she smiles. “It’s in the email I sent you. He knows your coming. Take then red key ring from my bag. Those are for the building and the door. I think that’s it for now. I will call you in the morning okay?” She asks. You nod. You turn and grab the envelope before looking back at her and speak.

“Good luck,” she smiles at you.

“Thank you,” and you turn and leave. You take a long breath and stand for a moment. Processing as much of the information that you can remember. Then scrolling through your phone and find the address for Mr. Styles building. Once you find it in the Email you travel back to the lobby and hail a cab. You fidget with the envelope the entire ride. You pay the fare with the card sara gave you right before you left the hospital room, the name ‘H Styles’ written in gold letters across the black card. You hop out the cab and slowly make your way to the door. Sifting through keys as you go to open the lock. Finally finding the key it clicks open the door. Once on the elevator you take it to the top floor, it opens to a hallway and you step out with uneven footsteps. Nerves flooding your veins. No ideas how this is going to go. You have the key to open the door but you don’t know if you should use it. So you stand there a second, thinking. You raise your hand and knock three times. One Mississippi. Two Mississippi. Three Mississippi. Four Mississippi. Five Mississippi. Then a tumble and a crash. Footsteps towards the door. A lock slides and the door opens.

“Hello,” an accented voice speaks as the man comes into view.

“Hey,” you introduce yourself and hold out the envelope. “Sarah said that you needed this today and um so yeah,” you say as you wave around the yellow paper.

“Thank you,” he smiles as he takes the envelope from your hand. “Come in, come in,” he opens the door and moves out of the way so you could come into the apartment. You nod awkwardly and shuffle past him, “I’m Harry it’s nice to meet you,” his hand reaches out to shake yours. His hand grips around yours, large fingers cover your smaller ones. Rings cold against your skin, tattoos speckled on his hands and for arms as far as you can see.

“Nice to meet you,” an uncomfortable smile on your face.

“How is Sarah doing?” He asks as he walks further into his apartment. You follow meekly behind him.

“As okay as she can be I guess,” you shrug. “She’s gonna call me in the morning to talk more,” another awkward shrug. You don’t know what to do with your body. Your arms curled towards yourself oddly. Shifting on your feet back and forth.

“Good, good, would you like some tea? Coffee? Water?” He asks while he floats through his kitchen. You shake your head.

“No thanks I’m okay,” he looks at you blankly, thinking for a second.

“Well Sarah said that she had some stuff to give you if you could wait here just a minute,” he then disappears into the hallways behind him. You stand awkwardly and wait. Something brushes against your leg and you let out a yelp. Looking down there was a small orange cat.

“Oh hey,” you whisper down to the small feline. “You scared me little one,” you said as you reached down to let him smell you. Your hands running through his fur as he purred at you. Harry came around the corner with a large binder amount other books and papers.

“Hey honey,” you look at him, eyebrow crooked. “The cat,” he smirks at you. You nod. A smile playing at your lips. Cute.

“Hey honey,” you whimper to the cat as he rubs against your leg. “How are you? Huh?” He continues to purr while rubbing against your leg.

“He’s a grumpy old man,” Harry says dropping the large pile of papers on the counter before lowering himself to the ground and scooping Honey onto his folded legs. “Sixteen years old,” his large frame wraps around the cat like a shield as he babbles to the cat. His curly hair is lightly speckled with grays, his green eyes sparkle as he talks to the cat. Fingers scratching under his chin. “My little old man, so stink huh? Such a stink man huh?” he talks the the cat. You feel as if you’re invading their space.

“So I’m gonna take these then?” You ask as you bring yourself back to your feet. Plopping your hand on top of the stack. “What do I do with them?”

“Read them,” he looks up at you. “I’m honestly not all sure what’s all in there. That’s just what she’s been gathering up these last few weeks?” His hands still petting Honey. He looks so meek and small curled up on the floor with the large orange cat.

“Oh..” the stack seems to grow. “I guess I should get on that,” you slip your fingers under the stack before trying to lift up the papers but they are too heavy. “Oh shit,” you gasp as you fling the binders and papers and books over the edge. He is up and standing. Hands overtop yours and brings it back up to the counter.

“Let me get some bags,” he whispers into your ear as he catches you. You just nod.

“Oh. Okay,” you freeze. His disconnect from your frame sends goosebumps over your arms. Feeling cold without his contact. He walks back into the area he got the books from. You suspect it’s the hall that leads to the bedrooms of the very spacious apartment. When you heard reclusive writer you were expecting an much older man who had books stacked to the ceiling and smelled of coffee and whiskey. Not an attractive British man who baby talks to his cat. Your eyes skim the kitchen and the small sitting room attached. Picture frames covered the walls of the apartment. All the frames different shades of gold, brown and random accents of color. The photos in them range from people to places and animals. Quite a few pictures of the beautiful orange cat that has now perched himself on the counter next you and is purring as your hands mindlessly scratch at his head.

“I’ll help you carry them down yeah?” He asks, startling you. A squeak like noise leaves your throat. Your hand flying over your chest. Like you’re trying to capture the heart that seems to be beating out of your chest. “Sorry love,” he smiles. “Didn’t mean to scare you,” you shake you’re head in response.

“It’s okay I just scare easy,” you reach to grab the two reusable bags from him. “And I can carry them it’s okay,” he shrugs.

“I have to go down to get some new pens from the corner store so it’s okay,” you shrug.

“I guess I won’t fight you on it,” a light smile etched onto your features.

“You wouldn’t have won anyways,” he then guides you out of the apartment. You opening doors for him and pressing elevator buttons as he holds the two very heavy bags. For you they would have been anyways. But he carry’s them with ease, the muscles under is sage green cardigan slightly bulging. “Um,” he starts. Pulling his lips into his mouth quickly as if to think of what to say. “Thank you so much for taking this on,” his fingers fidgeting with the steps on the bag. “I really appreciate it and hope that we can make this run smoothly until sara is ready to come back,” he rambles as you finally make it to the ground floor

“Of course it’s hopefully going to be a little bit more exciting than data entry and customer service,” he lets out a small laugh.

“I hope so,” he guides you out the door and a black SUV pulls up to the curb. “Here’s your ride,” you look at him with wide eyes.

“Huh?” You ask and a small older lady comes around the side and walks in front of you. Reaching out and grasping your hand in hers.

“Hi I’m Elaine and I am Mr.Styles driver,” she says with a large smile. “Though he doesn’t go anywhere so I am your driver,” her voice is airy and happy.

“Oh um,” you can’t seem to get nah words out. Shocked. Harry introduces you to her as your brain is still running behind. A driver for a personal assistant is kind of a lot.

“There’s lots of driving in this position and cabs can get expensive,” he moves to put the binders and folders in the back seat. Leaving you room to sit behind the passenger seat. “And there’s some things that I’ll need to bring to the office and back that I just don’t trust to be transported by subway or bus,” he says nervously. Sarah has mentioned he is a very paranoid man who hides it easily, until it comes to his writing. Along with other things, hence why he doesn’t venture more than a street from his apartment building.

“Oh okay,” you then nod at him. “I will see you tomorrow?” You ask trying not to sound too nervous.

“You know where to find me,” he lets out a shy laugh. You just smile at him and pull the door closed. You give Elaine your address and she sits in thought for a second. Before signaling to merge onto the road.

“Isn’t he handsome?” Elaine speaks as she pulls out into traffic. The question startling you. Her small frame is placed atop a cushion that gives her a few inches to see past the steering wheel.

“Oh yeah I guess,” you shrug.

“It’s okay honey you can tell me the truth,” she smiles mischievously through the rear view mirror. Why is she asking you this. It seems unprofessional considering you two are basically co-workers.

“He is a little too old for me,” you tell her click open your phone. Finding the email again and trying to read through and memorize as much information as you can.

“Not at all! You seem like a mature young lady. And very beautiful,”

“Thank you Elaine but Mr.Styles is my boss and I’m a little uncomfortable with this conversation to be honest,” your voice trailing off quietly. Hoping not to offend the older woman.

“Oh of course I’m so sorry,” she shakes her head. “I won’t ask again,” she waits a few seconds before looking back to me again. “So what made you take the job?” She ask’s curiously.

“The money pays well. Sarah seemed really nice and it’s definitely better than the dead end office jobs I’ve been finding,” you shrug. “Even though it’s a temporary thing it’ll be nice to get some experience,” she nods along with your words.

“Oh good reasons,” she laughs as you pull into a spot in front of your apartment building. “Here we are,” she sighs. Turning to look at you face to face. “Right?”

“Yes ma’am,” you respond opening the door and shuffling off the seat and pulling the bags with you. Your arms straining to carry the large heavy bags. ‘Wow I really need to go back to the gym,’ you think to yourself as you make your way to the door.

“Just call me Elaine,” she smiles at you from her now open window. “And I will be here tomorrow at seven so that we can do Mr.Styles morning errands,” you Jude nod and wave. Quickly making your way into the building.

"What did I just get myself into?" you whisper to yourself as you stop onto your elevator. Elaines words running through your head. Did you think he was attractive? I mean he wasn't unattracrive? Why was that her question about him for you? Was she trying to play cupid? Weird way to start out her first day at work. "Whatever he has in store for me tomorrow better not be nearly as exciting. Today was too much,"

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut

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seemycee · 4 months

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🦢 𝙈𝙀𝙍𝘾𝙐𝙍𝙔 𝙎𝙌𝙐𝘼𝙍𝙀 𝙎𝘼𝙏𝙐𝙍𝙉: 𝘿𝙀𝘽𝙍𝙄𝙀𝙁 🦢

• so here we are again having another debrief this time about the aspect “mercury squared saturn”. i have a lot to say about her, so i suggest you get comfortable cause i will be rambling. as always i’m writing from my own perspective of having this as my tightest aspect. of course you may not 100% align with what i’m saying cause charts differ, but i’m always writing from a place of being informative and just good ole fun. picture me and this post as a fish, tumblr as my fishbowl and you guys are observing me and my behavior. for context, my 6h aquarius mercury is squaring my 9h taurus saturn.

• out of all my aspects i have in my chart i think this is the hardest, and i have so many so you know i’m serious. people who have this aspect are one the highest strongest soldiers, especially the ones who haven’t overcame it and still manage to exist.

• this aspect manifested in my life in such a strange way and out of nowhere. when i was a child, i had a very high-pitched voice. not the normal young squeaky little kid voice. it gave very much did you suck the helium out of balloons every morning??? this probably has more to do with my aquarius mercury conjunct uranus, but i’m painting a picture for you guys. mostly a lot of people liked my voice minus my father, and a few kids in my school. who assumed i was putting on a voice and should’ve grown out of said voice at 10???

• so because the constant harassment of my voice, i started speaking in a more soft-spoken tone, as not to draw attention to my voice. then on top of that, i wouldn’t talk much so when i started attending middle school people assumed i was shy when in fact, i was the furthest thing from shy. but the thought of publicly speaking, after being judged, so harshly at a young age, gave me really bad anxiety. that i just recently overcame at 21 years old.

• having this aspect 🫱🏾‍🫲🏼 being highly critical of yourself. this hit me like a ton of bricks because mercury is my chart ruler plus i’m a virgo rising so you know, every little thing about myself, i hated. especially during my hormonal teenage years. i used to constantly have this nervous tick where i would pull my shirt back into place after it started bunching up. another one i had where i’m constantly brushing my eyebrow back into place. i always thought people were looking at me. so in my head, i thought trying to be perfect. all the time would spare me being judged.

• the constant, putting myself down was another big one with this aspect. i ruined so many opportunities for myself when i was younger. i let the thoughts of being inadequate get too loud and scare me. i could be 100% qualified to do something, and i would somehow still think i’m completely unqualified to do it. even with people gassing me up. which i hate now as an adult cause, i don’t even think twice about doing something now.

• like most things touched by saturn. things got better overtime. being insecure about every little thing forced me to work harder and perfect my crafts. funny thing is it took me working in the real world and dealing with people 24/7. for me to be able to shed my anxious skin of my teen self. cause.

1. started to realize nobody cared and we all have our own issues we’re dealing with

2. started noticing people don’t perceive me the way i perceive myself

3. i was caught up in a outdated way of viewing myself that i didn’t notice the change and development of myself

• on a lighter note another way this aspect manifested for me is me being a history nut. i love all types of history, especially music history. i’m like a human shazam. think of the most obscure song playing in a store and i bet you, i can name the artist performing the song and give you details about their career. i also consume an unhealthy amount of history content from youtube. mainly old true crime and beauty practices from different time periods.

• also another thing i noticed with this aspect is not being able to share your ideas. i remember wanting to contribute to certain things then going never mind because i thought my ideas were dumb. then having people pull my teeth to get me to share and be blown away with said ideas. ex: all my friends up here in ny make drill music or r&b music. then you have me over here going against the grain composing new wave/post disco music which is just disco music without the beat overpowering the vocals. i’ve been doing this in private for weeks and i didn’t wanna share it with my friends or mother cause i didn’t think it was urban enough and that it was a silly idea that wasn’t gonna go anywhere and i just fall back into writing regular r&b music. i ended up telling them cause i like new wave a lot more than r&b music and i’m passionate about it. they actually liked the direction i’m going in, so it wasn’t silly idea after all.

• lastly i was so late to social media in terms of taking pictures of myself and posting them online. omg i used to hate the idea of even exposing myself in that manner. my friend literally had to beg me to join instagram, now all i do is over share and post my outfits. this makes sense since mercury deals with social media and saturn with delays and restrictions. i was already on internet for a long time and had a lot of notoriety on twitter during the mid to late 10s but nobody knew “me” cause i didn’t wanna be known as myself. even when i did start posting myself i started comparing myself to other people and it got bad so quick. i literally used to build up my instagrams just to delete them when i got self conscious. my friends used to hate that cause i used to get a lot of likes and would promote them. *in my gwen stafani voice* : i’m just a girl 🥲

𝙄𝙉 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝘾𝙇𝙐𝙎𝙄𝙊𝙉

• even though this is a very mentally taxing aspect there’s still a lot of positive that it creates once you learn your worth and see your power. i went from being very unsure of myself and constantly self sabotaging cause of intrusive thoughts. to now being fully confident in myself and everything that i do. due to me working and constantly bettering myself as a person. that’s not an easy thing to do but it’s not impossible and everyone will get there at their own pace. 🫂

#astro community #astrology observations #astro notes #astro tumblr #astrology #astrology placements #mercury #saturn #astrology tumblr #astrology community #astrology notes

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r4ikkonen · 1 year

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NEW ENGINEER | Carlos Sainz x Engineer/reader

a/n Hey this feels so unfinished so let me guys know if you want a part two :)

“Im happy to announce that now you would be working for Scuderia Ferrari” Binotto said while shaking my hand

“It’s such a pleasure, thank you very much” Y/N said, she couldn’t stay still, it was a dream come true.Finally working for her favorite Formula 1 Team knowing how proud her dad had must been.After getting all the documents and files it was said that tomorrow she will meet the drivers and talk with them about the possible new car designs.She couldn’t be happier.

The next morning she came to the garage and met everyone.Binotto has already announced that she will be learning about everything in here.She has meet Charles so far and her other colleague that was an aerodynamicist.It still felt unreal to her.The aerodynamicist ordered her to fix a small problem on the rear wing.Which she gladly accepted.Not a 5 minutes had gone by and a big string figure had walked towards her.

“Hey I just wanted to announce myself, I’m Carlos.” The man said

“Oh hi I’m y/n and current i’m fixing your car” She said with a few chuckles

“Oh i can see” Carlos said giving her hand with some of the work.

She felt some sort of connection between the two of them.She tried her best not to blush, she didn’t want to seem unprofessional on her first day.

Few weeks have passed and the season has already started.The place took in Australia the first qualifications.Her job was to be Carlos’ engineer on the radio.She was responsible for almost everything.

“Don’t be so nervous, y/n” Carlos said gripping my shoulders, which made me look right into his dark brown eyes

“If you say so..” Y/N said still feeling nervous, in her head all the negative thoughts were running.What if something happened?What if Carlos crashes into something and it’s her fault?

Qualifications went fine, Charles qualified P4 while Carlos qualified P2.Which wasn’t so bad.Carlos came hugging her thight. “I knew you could do this!I told you it was going to be okay.” He said full of joy.This time we locked eye contact for few seconds but we quickly realised that we weren’t alone in the garage so we got back to work.I came up to Charles congratulating him on his P4 He did have some problems with his car, but he pulled that off easily.

“Heyy Charles good job out there!” y/n said placing her arm on his back.

“Eh it could have been better but okay.” Charles said in disappointment

“C’mon it’s not that bad I mean it’s quali”She tried cheering him up but sadly she failed.

We noticed Carlos looking at us and Charels turned to me and said “You know he likes you, right?”

The driver’s words just melted in my ears.I’ve blushed hoping it wasn’t noticeable “Uhm.. Carlos,No,no I don’t think so”

“Hmm.” He pouted and walked away to talk with Binotto

We were packing to go back to our homes.I was drinking my coffee in the motorhome and Binotto came up to me.

“Hey y/n you did great today!You were really on point.” His words made me feel like I was really at home.

“Ehm but watch out for Sainz, he kinda has a thing for you” Binotto said with a serious tone

“Don’t worry sbout it Mattia, I’m here to fix the cars” I said reassuring him.

I went back to my car and then Carlos approached me..

“Hey I just wanted to thank you for everything do you think that um.. we could go out on dinner so I can thank you properly?” Carlos said scratching the back of his neck slightly avoiding the eye contact between us.

“Sure thing Sainz” I kicked him him with my elbow in a playful way which he seemed to like. The rest of the evening I spent rambling to my best friend about everything that happened.I couldn’t stop thinking about Carlos that night.

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booksndpoetry · 20 days

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Nerdy is the New Sexy

A Han Jisung Fanfic

m.list

A/N: If anyone gets the title reference, know I love you.

On another note, I hadn't planned for this to be so long. Maybe Han and his long hair are finally getting to me.

Word Count: 1.08k words

Genre: Fluff

Characters: University Student Han Jisung X Gn reader

Triggers/Warnings: Idiots in love, mutual, oblivious pining (I don't like this but here we are)

“Your/Name. Go to sleep.” Jisung says from his room, rubbing his eyes.

You startle at the sudden noise, only to realize it's your roommate, staying up because of the harsh light coming from your room.

“Sorry,” you say, “I’ll just be up for a few more minutes.” “What’s so important you’re staying up for it?”

He comes into your room to peer into your laptop screen. Your breathing quickens at the proximity. He squints for a moment and then he looks at you dead in the eyes.

“Why the hell are you researching Popular dishes of the Medieval Period?” “You never know. I might need it” you weakly defend, though you were just insatiably curious. “God, you’re such a nerd.” He says fondly.

You almost forget how to breathe. Both, from the words coming and the person speaking them.

“I’m not a nerd,” you reply, your tone soft, but firm.

“I’m not a nerd because nerds genuinely spend their time learning new things, things that make them appreciate the world more. Something that justifies as well as glorifies their existence on this planet. It's like giving back because you have a chance to live a life. I'm not a nerd because I sometimes procrastinate and end up hurriedly finishing the essay in two hours instead of the four I'd originally kept apart for it.” You ramble in one breath.

Han watches you, soft eyes taking in your every breath and relishing in the words you speak. He didn’t know it was possible to love someone so much, without even touching them. For him, you were the human embodiment of love and he didn’t like it when you discredited yourself, even for the smallest of things.

“But you write as good of an essay you do in two as well as you do one in four.” He says firmly.

“That’s true,” you muse, “Work expands to fill the Time allocated to it, I guess.” He gives you a self-satisfied look that says ‘See? I told you so.’

“You’re a nerd,” he says in finality. ”Don't even start about how you're not qualified to be one. You're the biggest nerd I know. You're a writer, you make everything sound enjoyable, you're kind, and you have such thoughts about nerds. You're the epitome of a nerd if I ever saw one. So don't worry your little head and come back to sleep. I don't want to drag you to class tomorrow and hear your whining.” He ends his speech with a tired expression as if recounting all the times he dragged your whiny self to classes held at ungodly hours of the morning.

Your heart lurched and backflipped in your chest. God, this was embarrassing, even if you were the only one who witnessed your lovesickness.

He was basically confessing to you, in terms of, hot romance novel terms. But he wasn't the male lead of a romcom and you weren't the protagonist. He was your roommate and you were his friend he was forced to get acquainted with because of your living situation, nothing more.

You don’t want to have fantasies that will end up being just that, fantasies.

So you don’t think about how nice his smile is, or how his arms have been bulging out from his sleeveless shirts recently and how utterly easy it is to love him.

You decide you'll just keep this safely tucked into your mind, where nothing can reach it. You vow to yourself you'll keep it safe for when you second guess whether you really want to keep loving him, when you second guess if you need to keep writing, or when you feel like giving up on yourself. You're nothing if not a writer of your words.

‘What a lame excuse of a pun.’ You tell yourself. But then with the look he's giving you, you realise you haven't given him a response to his words, yet. And you sheepishly smile as he shakes his head, knowing you got caught up in your head again.

“Thank you,” you tell him. You want to tell him of your gratitude in great detail, in a much more deserving way, but words have deserted your mind now and these will have to do.

He smiles, “You act like it isn't true. It is. Now hurry up and get to bed.” He pats your bed and falls into the mass of pillows you’ve kept there. You giggle at his action. That was another thing. You were always smiling around him. He made it so easy.

"Talk dirty to me, why don't you?" you say, playfully wiggling your eyebrows and he throws a chocolate wrapper around you. You frown at that.

“That was my bookmark, you dweeb.”

“So?” he questions as though it means nothing.

“Find another one” he says nonchalantly and you want to throw a brick at his stupidly beautiful face.

“I can’t. Ugh. What do you know about the struggles of a bookworm?”

He rolls his eyes at your theatrics. Even as he makes a note to carry some chocolates for you tomorrow, so you can have enough bookmarks.

“I’ll get you your favourite drink if you come to bed right now,” he says, attentive eyes waiting for your reaction.

For one moment, when he says that, you pretend he's your boyfriend who’s really in love with you. You know you shouldn’t do it but all the fics on your phone say otherwise. So, you pretend he's beckoning you to come sleep next to him, waiting to pull your face under his chin and rest his head on yours. It feels heavenly, the feeling. You wouldn't ever refuse to go to bed if it were real. So you don't refuse now. You turn off your computer and your desk lamp, take off your glasses and dive headfirst into your bed, and it’s his turn to giggle at your antics. You won’t refuse him anything even if he’s not yours. The power he had over you, you didn’t ever want him to know.

He tucks you in like a baby, and whispers “Sleep well, you nerd”, and then he’s off to his own room. You merely smile and snuggle in, and you’re out like a light moments after.

Only when the door is firmly shut, does he kick his feet in the air, having a full-on meltdown after being so near to you. Was this his punishment for writing songs with unrequited love? He groaned. It was so unfair.

#+booksndpoetry #straykidsland #stray kids #stray kids han jisung #han jisung x reader #han jisung x y/n #skz imagines #skz #stayblr #skz han #romance one shots #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #writing #writeblr #han jisung fluff #skz fluff

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bluiex · 9 months

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Hello Bluie and followers! I’m having thoughts again. Specifically, I was going some of my favorite old reliable scarian tropes and taking some time to indulge in them and I had a question. In the “scarian have been married for years, possibly since even before Grian joined Hermitcraft, but nobody knew” trope, why did nobody know? Can you seriously tell me that Scar “Look at my husband he’s so handsome I love him so much” Goodtimes wouldn’t take every opportunity to tell people about Grian? And so I thought about it, and came to a conclusion.

The conclusion is that the decision to get married happened after Grian accepted the invitation to join Hermitcraft, which causes Scar to have a bit of a dilemma. He wants to invite all his friends to his wedding, but since they’re going to Grian’s future server-mates he doesn’t want their first impression of him to be “Scar’s husband.” Except he also doesn’t want to wait because he loves Grian so much and want to marry him right now.

Grian proposes a compromise: they can get married now, have a super small wedding, and then after Grian’s gotten to know everybody on his own terms they can break the news and have the huge awesome wedding that Scar wants.

So they do! The wedding consists of Grian and Scar (obviously) Cub and Pearl as best men (Cub knew about Grian from the start, he was the one who had to put up with all of Scar’s rambling about how absolutely perfect Grian is, have you seen this picture of us? Look at him, I love him so much. Incidentally, this is why Scar never told anyone else earlier: he talked about Grian so much with Cub, he never realized that he never said anything to anyone else) and Mumbo officiating. Mumbo isn’t quite sure how he ended up in that role, but neither of them could agree on whose best man he would be since he was friends with both of them, and besides, he’s the one who introduced them is the first place so he should be the one to marry them. Is he at all qualified? Probably not, but it’s the thought that counts.

Oh and also in this… AU? I guess it’s an AU. Anyway, in this version of events evo is just a fun experiment with a little bit of role play. Grian as the admin constructed all of the Watcher towers in creative as fun puzzles for his friends to solve, then played along and “figured out” the riddles himself if it seemed like people were getting stuck. Everyone knew about and was on board with this because who doesn’t love a little bit of role play now and again? When Grian announced that he was leaving the server to be on Hermitcraft full time, they all got together and decided that in their little story he was going to be kidnapped by the Watchers and they would all mourn him appropriately. They threw him a preemptive funeral as a going away party. Cue Martyn:

“My good friend Grian passed away yesterday.”

“One, we decided I’m getting kidnapped. Two, that’s tomorrow. Three, quit talking about me like I’m not here.”

“Sometimes I can still hear his voice 🥺”

OOOOH I LOVE THIS IDEA!!! It fits it well, cuz youre so right about Scar “Look at my husband he’s so handsome I love him so much” Goodtimes- he wouldnt have been able to keep his mouth shut ajkfdshjdf

THE EVO BIT IS PERFECT

#bluie gets an ask poggers #scarian #long post

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thesillyexpresser · 2 months

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After reading a fic with (the best most thought provoking depiction of) AI Turo, it reminded me of a certain poem from Evangelion, so I drew this ✨💜

No text version, a way to philosophical rambling based off of mentioned fic and Evangelion that’s about an essay long, and a doodle under the cut v

Features Spoilers for Pokemon SV and references to Evangelion anyways let’s start the ramble

SOOOoooo this fic (📒 Turn Back the Clock by MahinaPea11) has what I believe hands down one of the bestest thought provoking depictions of AI Turo (FYI: it is a yn romance fic in the 2nd pov and it is tagged as smut BUT the work is relatively 98% SFW and the smut tag was for a smut chapter that never really came as of now) (and that two percent NSFW is the yn getting attacked with a description of every bone they broke in the first chapter and a weird bath scene in chapter 4 so if you like robots questioning their existence and having crises but not smoochy smooching and awkward moments [aka me] you can skip some of that) (I’m not the biggest fan of yn romance as of the second pov category and get really uncomfortable around smut and 18+ crap but I actually really really enjoyed it and if you like man-made objects having epiphanies about their own human identity, I highly suggest this) (and before you ask what I was doing reading a yn romance fic, I was feeling really sick n’ crappy so much so that I gave up my pride and actually read it).

Anyways, enough with explaining myself. The main reason (of course there’s more reasons but here’s the most thought provoking one) I really like this fic (specifically in the 6th chapter) is because it deals with something that I found interesting about the Prof AI as a character, how they feel about being the original Professor and not. In a sense they are the og. They have all the memories of the og. They look like the og. The sound like the og. They are meant to represent wholly the og. But at the same time, they’ve explained they’re different. They don’t see eye to eye on the beliefs and dreams of the original. Yet, it’s not like they have to drastically physically change themself to assert that. I don’t think that’s something they’d want to do anyways. They’re just them. A being of wires that has the memories and experiences of a real person but never actually lived through them. They an exact copy of another person but different all the same. They are a vessel for a soul that isn’t really theirs. They’ve lived through a life though not really having one anyways. Do they have a life?

The reason why I chose lines from Rei’s I am Me poem from episode 14 as text for the art is because I think her situation is similar. She is (theorized to be) a copy of Yui. Although she isn’t seemingly aware of this, I think she is partially aware that she’s man made. She questions if this factor means she’s qualified to be called a life form of if she simply is an object. To be called her own person separate from what she was made to do.

Not to negate Rei as a character, but I like to think that somehow the AI profs have dealt with this contemplation, too, and I think it’s made worse with how they actually know for certain that they were made just as a mechanical copy as their creator. They themself are a paradox of Area Zero, and I believe they simply accept this. They accept the fact that they’re a tin can representative of a dead person rotting away in the ground. They accept the fact that they are different from each other and that they am their own being. I’m pretty sure that from their realization of the og professor’s flaws and them leaving at the end of the story, that they were still dealing with the “people” they are. In the fic, AI Turo even has the balls to consider himself to be considered a living being (and good for him).

Holy crap I went too philosophical and deep and whatever here’s a doodle I made.

#art #artwork #doodle #character art #pokemon #artists on tumblr #professor turo #pokemon violet #illustration #fanfic rambles #rambles #ai turo #going way too philosophical #evangelion reference #ポケモンsv #pokemon scarlet and violet #TheSillyRambler9000

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avida-heidia-5 · 4 months

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While we wait for the 2024 Formula 1 season to arrive, I thought I’d entertain myself by playing a little tag game I’ve just created. Feel free to participate if you have the time to do it. 😊

🏎️💨 THE FORMULA 1 TAG GAME! 🏎️💨:

1. Who or what got you into F1?

2. Who was the very first F1 driver you supported? Do you support them now? Have your opinions on them differed or stayed the same since then?

3. Who’s your current favourite F1 driver?

4. Is there a driver pairing or pairings you support? What made you attracted to that pairing in the first place?

5. Do your parents, siblings or relatives have a favourite team and/or favourite driver(s)?

6. Do you have any favourite races? Are there any that stand out to you the most?

7. Do you have a favourite circuit? Can be from the past or from the current calendar.

8. Have you ever been to an F1 race in real life? Feel free to tell us your experience going to one if you like.

9. Have you ever met an F1 driver in real life?

10. Do you have a favourite F1 car? If so, what is it?

11. Do you have a favourite one win wonder?

12. Do you have any favourite quotes from the F1 world? This can either be inspirational or hilarious.

(This is all the questions I could come up with, I’m afraid! My brain is absolutely worn to a frazzle! 😮‍💨)

Now tag as many people as you like! I tag the following peeps: @kaossbells, @argentinagp, @hurricane-heatt, @skitskatdacat63, @racingliners, @formulaes5, @princemick, @4xmulti21champion, @schumigrace, @hungriestheidi, @ellalovesvettel, @twinkodium, and @wanderingblindly. Feel free to participate if you would like to. No pressure! 😊

If I haven’t tagged you in this but you want to participate, you have my permission. Go absolutely wild!

Now here are my answers below the cut! Warning: I can be a touch rambly!

1. Who or what got you into F1?

My parents introduced me to F1 in 2004 when I was around 4 or 5 years old. I vividly remember watching pretty much the whole of the 2005 season on the telly and how amazing a lot of the races were back then. 😍 Since then, we’ve been keeping up with watching races, following the news, and visiting Silverstone for Free Practice sessions and fun events like the Classic Weekend and the Lap Of Lights whenever possible.

2. Who was the very first F1 driver you supported? Do you support them now? Have your opinions on them differed or stayed the same since then?

I was drawn to Kimi Räikkönen when I was young because I found him attractive. 😳 This was before I knew anything about F1. 😅 Once I got into the habit of watching the sport regularly, I was happily cheering him on. That McLaren was a BEAST…when it was reliable. 😬

I didn’t know much about Kimi’s story back then. As I grew older though, I did some research on him and came to understand why fans love him so much. He kept a cool head during qualifying and race days (He’s called The Iceman for a reason!) and I just love his personality in general: Quiet, composed, honest, and straightforward. And who could forget the memes that spawned during Kimi’s return to F1?

Even though Kimi’s retired from the sport (seemingly for good 😢), I still love and support him with all my heart, whatever he gets up to. 💙❄️

3. Who’s your current favourite F1 driver?

Sebastian Vettel. Oooooh Sebastian Vettel! Where do I even start? 🥰

I have an insane adoration for this man, even more than Kimi admittedly. Seb is just…on another level to me. 😍😍😍

He’s the sweetest, most loveliest man on the planet. He’s kind, generous, talented, and cultured. He’s also an environmentalist, and I fully support his journey to try and make our planet a greener, tidier, happier, and healthier place. 🌎🌱 I’m always fascinated with what he has to say; whether it’s something positive or negative. He has a ridiculous knowledge of everything related to F1 and our environment, and I love him even more for it.

Seb is also retired from F1 and I still miss him dearly, but that doesn’t stop me from loving and supporting this man. I adore him to absolute BITS! 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

4. Is there a driver pairing or pairings you support? What made you attracted to that pairing in the first place?

Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber have an interesting dynamic to me. I’ve enjoyed seeing their relationship develop and fall apart and repair themselves back together on track, from when the two were teammates at Red Bull all the way up to today. It’s good that they can laugh about their mishaps and misfortunes afterwards. I don’t know, these two just fascinate me. 💜

Other favourite driver pairings include (in no particular order): Seb and Kimi, Seb and Charles Leclerc, Fernando Alonso and Giancarlo Fisichella, Fernando Alonso and Lance Stroll, Lando Norris and Carlos Sainz Jr., Lando Norris and Daniel Ricciardo, Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz Jr., and FINALLY, Alex Albon and Logan Sargeant.

5. Do your parents, siblings or relatives have a favourite team and/or favourite driver(s)?

We’re happy to support any team, but we’re primarily McLaren supporters in this household. 🧡 As for drivers, my mum loves Jenson Button and my dad is a Nigel Mansell and Fernando Alonso supporter. My sister just recently started getting into F1 and she supports Lando Norris. We never have any complaints or disputes over our choices, which is nice. 😊

6. Do you have any favourite races? Are there any that stand out to you the most?

There’s quite a lot of races I’ve enjoyed watching over the years. I don’t like the current races that much; I’m more of a 2000’s & 2010’s grid enjoyer. My favourite race of all time has got to be the 2012 Brazilian GP. It was the most nail-biting race I have ever watched! I was on the edge of my seat the whole time! 😱 To me, nothing can top it!

However, the race that stood out to me the most – and the race that firmly cemented my enjoyment for the sport – was the 2005 Japanese Grand Prix. Kimi was a BEAST in that McLaren! From starting dead last on the grid to snatching victory on the final lap. What a show he put on! 🤩👏🏻

7. Do you have a favourite circuit? Can be from the past or from the current calendar.

Spa-Francorchamps will forever be my favourite circuit. It’s home to one of the most iconic battles in history. (“BUT HERE COMES SEBASTIAN VETTEL!!!!”) Plus the foresty backdrop is absolutely stunning. 😍 One of my dream goals is to visit this iconic circuit and watch a race in person one day. 🙏🏻

I also love Silverstone, Hockenheim, Monza, Sepang, Interlagos, and the Nürburgring.

8. Have you ever been to an F1 race in real life? Feel free to tell us your experience going to one if you like.

No, I’ve never been to a race before. Not yet, at least. I would really love to go to one with my family and friends though. 🤩🙏🏻

9. Have you ever met an F1 driver in real life?

Unfortunately, as of writing, no. We’ve taken many pictures of drivers, but I’ve yet to actually come face-to-face with them and take their autographs and have pictures with them. 🙁 One day, I’m hoping this will all come true. 🤞🏻

My parents briefly talked to Esteban Ocon when he was a reserve driver. (They don’t know which team he was in at the time and I don’t know either. This was around 2015, if that helps. 🤷🏻‍♀️) My mum was extremely lucky to talk to and get an autograph from Jenson Button’s dad John when he was alive. I believe this was around the time before Jenson won the World Championship. They’ve yet to get Jenson’s autograph. Again, one day! 🤞🏻

10. Do you have a favourite F1 car? If so, what is it?

I don’t have many favourite cars, and I’m not a car nerd like my dad is. However, the McLaren MP4/20 is a certified favourite of mine. The black and white West McLaren livery in general looked very smart. I’m happy it lasted a very long time from 1997 to 2005. 😍 I wish they brought those colours back in modern races, like for special occasions or something. 😭

I also love the blue and yellow Mild Seven Renault livery from 2005, followed by McLaren’s delightfully retro Gulf livery from 2021, and Hungry Heidi herself: the Red Bull RB9 from 2013.

11. Do you have a favourite one win wonder?

Robert Kubica. This man went from having his horrific accident during the 2007 Canadian GP to winning the race a year later at the same circuit. What a legend! 🤍

12. Do you have any favourite quotes from the F1 world? This can either be inspirational or hilarious.

Let’s start with my favourite hilarious quote: Kimi’s got hundreds of iconic moments during his time in F1. I actually use his infamous quote “Just leave me alone! I know what I’m doing!” quite often in normal conversations, so…I’ll go with that! 🤣🤣🤣

As for inspirational quotes, hmmm, that’s a lot harder. The one that came to my head first was Daniel Ricciardo’s “Enjoy the butterflies” quote. I also love Sebastian Vettel’s “You can’t always be the best, but you can do your best.” and his retirement speech, among others. If I had to choose one….uhhhhh, let’s go with Daniel! I love them all equally though. 🤷🏻‍♀️

#My tag game #Formula 1 Tag Game #tag game #ask game #My ramblings: F1 #formula 1 #f1 #random #personal

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