#carla bean

[inbarfink]

#dumbing of age #david willis #Robin DeSanto #mike warner #Jason Chesterfield #Dorothy Keener #danny wilcox #David walkerton #Jacob Williams #Malaya Eugenio #Becky MacIntyre #Carla Rutten #amazi-gir #Amber O’Malley #Dina Saruyama #ruth lessick #Joe Rosenthal #Jennifer Billingsworth #leslie bean #Sarah Clinton #Galasso #I was going through the Meme slotting in those that fit #when I realized I basically have a full set lol #I mean I guess I am missing the one before last #Cause Toni Morrison #isn't a DOA character

[penname-artist]

So I made my first official drabble of Rip and Carla :3

#Rip is such a precious baby bean #I'm weirdly excited to do more with these two #pixar cars #cars 2 #rip clutchgoneski #carla veloso #world grand prix racers

[womenslive]

Carla Makes Beans | From the Test Kitchen | Bon Appétit

#tmblr #tumblrgram #tumblrs #tumblraesthetic #tumblrfeed #tumblrpost #beans #carla music #carla lalli music #cook beans

[putellas11]

A/N: Finally! So happy I was able to get this up in time to celebrate Alexia's return!!! Similar to Just a Girl, this was a big challenge for me and I was determined to see it through. This is a story of how love can shine a light in the darkest of moments. btw this is a long one so settle in.

The Missing Piece (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

In the blink of an eye, everything changed. 

A life once lived passionately and carefree, now overwhelmed with uncertainty and trepidation. How else are you supposed to feel when faced with the possibility of losing what you hold most dear? If you lose your guiding light, will you make it on your own or will you wander aimlessly through life?

These are the questions that have invaded your mind. It’s all you can think about. They keep you up at night and leave you exhausted the following morning. You feel their weight on your shoulders dragging you down. They leave you gasping for air as you struggle to just keep your head above water. And the one person who can help you and protect you from it all, is the very person you’re at risk of losing. 

The only thing that can distract you, even if it’s for the briefest of moments, is art. It’s the only way you can convey what words simply cannot express. When you feel crippled with pain and see no hope in sight, art is your only escape. With your brush, you create a world filled with light and hope. Because unlike life, art is forgiving. When you make a mess, you can paint over it. You can try again. 

Unlike life, art gives you second chances.

"Dios mio, that storeroom is a mess!" your coworker, Carla exclaims, appearing by your side. She drops a box of coffee beans on the floor and with the back of her hand, wipes a drop of sweat from her brow. “Took me 10 minutes just to find this.”

Behind the counter, your attention is on the sketchbook in your hands. When the crowd dies down and you get a little break from taking orders, the small sketchbook comes out from under the counter. Everything from the small details of the cafe to the faces of those who visit it, are you sources of inspiration.

“You mean the one we spent all night organizing last week?”

Annoyance radiates from Carla. “That can’t be us making all that mess, right?” she says, hands on her waist and her foot tapping repeatedly against the floor. “I’m convinced someone is sneaking in at night and trashing the place.” 

The absurdity of the statement makes you laugh, and she finally gets your full attention. “So, they don’t sneak in to steal anything? All they want to do is make a mess?” 

Carla nods with confidence. “It’s the only logical explanation.” 

How she manages to keep a straight face, you do not know. But her eyes certainly give her away. Like you, Carla has no intention of being a barista forever. Put two people together who don’t take their job too seriously and what do you get? A messy storeroom. 

“You’re ridiculous.” With a smile, you shake your head and return your focus back to the sketchbook. 

Carla leans in to take a peek at what you’re drawing, and it doesn’t take long for her to pick out your subject: a young woman sitting by the window, completely immersed in a book. You picked her out because of her auburn hair and the way it shines so bright bathed by rays of sunlight.

"How's the exhibit coming along, by the way?" Carla asks.

It's a simple question that elicits a deep sigh from your lips. Just the mention of it forces you to close the sketchbook and tuck it away under the counter. "It's going...good."

Carla raises her eyebrow, catching on to your very obvious hesitation. "But…" she says, encouraging you to spill whatever it is that’s bothering you.

"I've gotten great feedback from everyone I've shown the pieces to, but I can’t shake the feeling that something is missing. It's like there's something else I need to say, but for the life of me I can’t figure out what that is."

It’s been nothing but sleepless nights staring at a blank canvas just waiting for inspiration to strike.  All the other pieces came so naturally to you. Granted, all of them are dedicated to your mother. But still, you've never experienced something quite like this and with the exhibit only a few months away, you're getting a little restless.

You hope Carla might have some words of wisdom to break you out of the funk you’re in, but the door of the cafe creaks open, and a woman walks in.

Break time is over. 

Like clockwork, Carla takes her position by your side at the brewing station, ready to prepare whatever order the customer might want.

"Hola! What can I get you?" You give the woman the same greeting and smile you give to them all.

The woman glances at Carla, and for a brief moment, it gives you the impression that there might actually be some meaning behind it. But you dismiss it — it's probably nothing.

"Just a cortado, please."

"And the name for the order?" you ask, busy staring at the screen. 

"...Alexia."

It takes the woman a second too long to say her name, but again, you pay it no mind. You've taken thousands of orders by now, and they're all a little different from the last. Some customers are chatty and some straight to the point. Either way, you take their order and send them on their way. You don’t have the energy for anything else.

Carla, an expert by now, has the order done in a second and leaves it on the counter. She shares a look again with the woman, and this time it does spark your interest. You make a note to ask Carla about it later.

The door opens and closes, and now there's one less customer inside the cafe to worry about.

"You know," Carla says, swinging her arm over your shoulder, "that thing you're missing? It might just be standing right in front of you."

You scoff in response, "if only it were that easy."

Carla's expression hints that she wants to say something else, but instead, she gives you a comfortable squeeze on the shoulder.

You’re about to ask her about those looks she was sharing with the woman, but you’re interrupted by the phone vibrating inside your apron pocket. 

It’s a simple message and it doesn’t deliver any bad news, but no matter how many times you receive it, your heart drops to your stomach.

"Todo bien?" Carla asks.

You nod, typing away your response. "Mama just finished her treatment. Tia is taking her home now." Tucking the phone back in your apron, a soft "merde" escapes from your lips. 

Only a year ago, you were living in France with the world at your fingertips. Everything was absolutely perfect. It’s where you went to art school and poured your heart and soul into every sketch and painting with the ultimate goal of perfecting your talent. And when you graduated, all your hard work paid off when Cécile Guth — a painter you deeply admired — granted you the opportunity to be her apprentice. In France, life was art, and art was your life.

But that all changed when your mom got sick.

Leukemia.

That’s when everything came to a halt. The cloud you had been living on suddenly evaporated, and you came crashing down, face first into a harsh reality. You had no choice but to leave France. At first, you didn't miss the life and dreams you left behind. You were so focused on taking care of your mom that everything else was deemed irrelevant. But as the months have gone by, you wonder if you'll ever be able to return. And if you ever do, you fear you might not be the same person. 

"How's Lídia doing?" Carla asks, bringing you back to reality.

"She's a fighter," you say with a sad smile. "She tries to be strong for my sake, but I can see she's suffering. Chemo is supposed to help but honestly, I feel like it's hurting her more than that damn cancer ever could."

Without a second to waste, Carla opens her arms and pulls you into a hug you so desperately need. You've only known each other for a year, but she's been by your side during the most difficult time of your life.

"On a happier note, the flyers for the class are done," you say, wiping away the single tear from your cheek.

Carla, sensing the need to lighten up the mood, claps her hands excitedly. "I'm telling you, you should have had them made a long time ago!"

It was Carla’s idea to have flyers made to promote your small art class, The First Brushstroke. Working at the cafe isn’t exactly making you rich — not that you need to be, but you definitely need an extra source of income with your mom obviously not able to work. 

“I’m picking them up on my way home. If I can get just three more regulars, I’ll be good.” 

Carla waves your doubts away, “trust me, I’m a genius. I bet that you’ll have to find a bigger studio in a few months.”

The door opens once again and it’s time to repeat the routine all over again. You’re not sure how much longer you can take this.

“I hope you’re right.”

__________________________

Once again, you find yourself sitting in front of a blank canvas, just staring at it intently with no hope in sight. All the colors and shapes that once flowed so naturally through your mind seem to have vanished. You’re left staring at nothing, feeling frustrated and helpless. Every time you dip your brush into the paint and make a few strokes on the canvas, it feels forced. Art isn’t supposed to feel forced. It’s meant to feel effortless and natural.

With a sigh you set down your brush and lean back on the chair. Looking around the room, you see a clutter of art supplies and splotches of paint decorating the floor. Very few traces are left of what was once your childhood bedroom. It was actually your mom’s idea to turn it into a little studio when you moved back home. Her way of helping you keep your passion alive, you suppose. 

Admitting defeat, you stand up and walk away from the canvas. The missing piece yet to be found.

You find your mom in her room, tucked under the blankets with a book in her hands. Physically, she has changed so much. A strong woman capable of running mile after mile is now barely able to walk a few feet on her own. Thick, luscious hair is now thin and falls off at the slightest touch.

And yet, in her eyes, you see the same woman who used to run all over the house with you playing hide and seek. The same woman who held you on her hip as she made pancakes with chocolate syrup smiles. Inside, she still has that raw passion and intensity as when she danced flamenco. She’s still your mom but it’s like you lose a little more of her with each passing day.

“Hi, mama,” you greet her, peeking your head inside the room.

The moment she sees you, a big smile appears. “Hola, mi vida. Come in.”

The book is placed to the side, and her arms welcome you as you lay down next to her. She doesn’t want you to ask about today’s treatment or how she’s feeling. She’s tired of only giving you bad news. Even when you’re the one that is supposed to look after her, her priority is still looking after you. 

So instead of asking, you let her gather her strength and run her fingers through your hair. She asks about your day, and you tell her everything to the smallest detail. She gets a nice chuckle out of Carla’s suspicions about who keeps messing up the storeroom.

“And that missing piece of yours?”

You shake your head. “Still missing and I’m just about ready to give it up. Honestly mama, I think it’s just me being a perfectionist.”

She hums but doesn’t say anything in response right away. “I think…” she says, “that if that heart of yours is telling you that something is missing, you should listen.”

Growing up, your mom would never allow frustration to consume you to the point of giving up. She would guide you through whatever you needed until you came out on the other side. She has always been your guiding light when you just can’t seem to find your way.

You look up at her and smile. “You’re so wise.”

A familiar mischievous glint that you rarely see nowadays appears in her eyes. “Well, one of us has to be.”

“Mama!”

But the two of you share a laugh, and it’s a sound you hope to hear forever and never forget.

__________________________

Tuesdays are slow. The early morning rush of customers has come and gone, and now the café is left with only a few scattered customers. On days like this, there’s only a need for one person behind the counter, and today that lucky person is you. 

With Carla not around to keep you company, the only goal is to keep yourself busy. Occasionally, you’ll take out the sketchbook, but nothing seems to maintain your interest for long. You’re in a proper funk, and rather than fight it, you have decided to embrace it. Even though you still can’t shake the feeling that you’re missing a piece for the exhibit, at this point, you’re only driving yourself crazy.

If the missing piece wants to be found, it will make its way to you eventually.

The door of the coffee shop swings open, and it takes you a second, but you recognize her as the woman sharing those looks with Carla.

“¡Hola, bienvenida!”

The woman gives you a soft smile, “Hi,” she says, tapping her fingers on the counter, “A cortado, please.”

With a nod, you input her order on the screen, “name for the order?” 

Once again, the woman takes just a second too long to respond. This time you glance up just in time to catch a glimpse of sadness in her eyes. 

“Alexia,” she says with a breath. 

As you prepare the order, you can see her taking a keen interest in one of the flyers for your art class. You left them up on the counter so that everyone could see, but as you expected, barely anyone has paid much attention.

Alexia, on the other hand, not only takes one from the stack, but she seems to be genuinely curious. If Carla was here, she would urge you to talk to her. But the truth is, you’ve never been good at selling yourself. You’ve always preferred to let your art speak for you, and for itself.

You place her cortado within Alexia’s reach and as casually as you can, ask, "Interested in taking an art class?" 

Alexia shifts her weight nervously and chuckles, "I'm not very good."

Out of fear that you’ll come off too eager and scare her away, you grab a towel and start wiping the counter that clearly doesn’t need much cleaning. “More reason to sign up.”

“I’ll sign up if you ask me to.” 

Your hand stills at her words. “Um…” Something about the way she said them makes you hesitant to look at her. “Yeah... you should sign up.”

But she doesn’t let you off the hook that easily. 

“Look at me and ask.”

And when you do look at her, you’re left speechless by what you see. This is the first time you look at her — really look at her, and it makes you feel vulnerable, exposed. Alexia’s not just looking at you - she’s looking through you. All of your flaws, insecurities, and imperfections seem to be on full display. 

You feel seen. 

You struggle to speak, the words seemingly stuck in your throat. “Please, sign up for my class.” 

“Finally.” Alexia says and she doesn’t say anything else for a few seconds, almost as if she’s relishing the moment. Eventually, the corners of her lips tug upwards in a smile, “I’ll think about it.”

You want to say something to convince her, but you’re left speechless. No one has looked at you like that in a very, very long time. It's a scary feeling, but at the same time, there's a sense of excitement brewing in the pit of your stomach. 

With the flyer and coffee in her hands, Alexia gives you a little nod. “Nos vemos.” 

You watch as she walks out of the cafe, leaving you to grapple with the unexpected feelings she sparked in you. 

The rest of your shift goes unbearably slow. With barely any customers to keep your mind busy, it keeps wandering back to Alexia. The exchange was confusing, unexpected, and strange. And yet, you want to talk to her again. 

It’s only when you get home that you’re distracted enough to not think about her, and it’s not for a great reason.

Your mom has good days and bad days and when you got home, your aunt’s expression told you all you needed to know. Today is a bad day. 

On the bad days, there’s very little you can do besides make sure she is comfortable. These are the days that hurt the most. You feel powerless and the questions that keep you up at night gain power over you. You try so hard to put on a brave face for her. She can handle the cancer, but not the sadness in your eyes.

After dinner, you’re lying in bed with her watching a movie. It’s a bad day ritual. It’s the perfect way to embrace a new world — a new reality in which your mom is not sick and everything is as it should be.

Halfway through the movie, your phone buzzes softly beside you.

A notification lights up the display: Alexia Putellas has registered for The First Brushstroke class.

A warm, tingling sensation spreads through your body as you read her name. You can't help but whisper it out loud, "Alexia."

Your mom's voice, curious and gentle, interrupts your thoughts. "Did you say something, mija?"

Quickly you lock the screen and shake your head. "It's nothing, mama."

There's no point in explaining how one simple look from a stranger has shaken you to your core.  How can you possibly explain something you, yourself don’t understand? 

__________________________

There’s a vibrant energy that flows through the narrow, winding streets of La Vila de Gràcia district. Before moving away, Gràcia was where you would spend most of your time. You felt understood and encouraged by all of the artists displaying their artwork on the streets. So, when you moved back and needed to find an art studio to host your class, you knew exactly where to look.

The art studio itself is small but fulfills your needs and most importantly, it’s within your budget. The walls are decorated with various pieces of artwork, from sketches and charcoal drawings to oil paintings. At the bottom right corner each one are your initials, and the only hint of the paintings being created by your hand. At the front of the room is a large wooden easel, holding a blank canvas that in a few hours will be brought to life with vibrant strokes of color.

The class is for beginners, so you don’t put too much pressure on yourself. There’s no need for everything to be perfect. In fact, you encourage mistakes. Most often than not, mistakes have the potential to become something unexpectedly beautiful. 

With the class set to begin shortly, those who signed up start trickling in. A couple takes a seat in the back of the room and right away you can tell it might be their first date. He hesitates to scoot his stool a little closer to her, and she tries to hide the blush in her cheeks when he finally does. 

A few of your regulars have the confidence to immediately go and collect their paint brushes, tubes of paint, and containers of water without being told to do so. Their confidence spreads through the room, and eventually, everyone has what they need to start the class. 

Only one easel stands alone. 

You glance at the clock on the wall and feel your heart sink a bit. It seems Alexia changed her mind and won’t be coming after all. You try to pretend it doesn’t bother you, but disappointment is an unwanted visitor tonight. Still, you gather the supplies she might need and leave them for her by the easel. Just in case. 

“Hello everyone, thank you all for being here” you offer a smile to the faces looking at you with anticipation, “tonight, we’ll be focusing on blending colors to create a gradient effect. If this is your first time —” 

The door swings open and everyone's heads snap in its direction. Alexia steps inside the studio and you forget whatever it is you were about to say. 

She stops at the entrance, her eyes locked on you. 

Alexia’s presence sparks an excited chatter amongst the class but their voices are muffled in your ears. You’re entirely captivated by her.

“Hi,” you greet her. 

“Hi,” she says with the softest of smiles.

Finally taking notice of the others in the studio, Alexia gives them all a quick nod before taking a seat.

Before, everyone’s eyes were on you. Now, you see them all taking not-so secretive glances at Alexia. You can only assume it’s because she made a late entrance, but deep down, you have a feeling there might be more to it than that. 

You clear your throat and bring everyone's attention back to you. “Um… yeah, I as I was saying,” but it takes you a second to regain your train of thought, “right —  if this is your first time, feel free to follow along to what I paint, it will be something really simple. But, if your mind or your heart calls out for something else, don’t hesitate.” 

As promised, your painting is of a simple sunset with silhouettes of pine trees. You show the students how to mix the colors together with a blending brush, starting with a light shade and gradually adding darker tones for a seamless transition. A painting of this simplicity would normally take you a few minutes, but you take your time to explain the different techniques and all the possible color combinations. 

With the painting done, it’s time for you to walk around the studio and give each student your individual attention. You encourage those who are hesitant to be bold and give praises to those that show improvement since the last time you saw them.

Eventually, you make your way to Alexia. When she notices you, she looks down somewhat embarrassed. 

“It’s so bad,” she says softly, avoiding your gaze.

You take a closer look at her painting. It's a striking red and blue background with the silhouette of a young girl holding a ball against her hip. Despite the simple composition, there's something poignant and personal about it. From your experience, most beginner students choose something generic, easy. But It's clear that Alexia’s painting is anything but.

"It's not bad," you say gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. "It's personal, no? I think that’s what makes it beautiful."

Your words seem to give Alexia a little bit of confidence because she looks up at you, “gracias.” Her eyes drift down at your hand still on her shoulder, a soft sigh through parted lips. 

Fearing you might have crossed an invisible line, you pull away swiftly and give her a little nod. “You’re welcome.” 

The rest of the class goes by in a blur but all throughout you feel overwhelmed by Alexia. You feel her eyes on you the entire time. And while you certainly hope you didn’t make it too obvious, every time she flicked her hair, you noticed. When she scrunched her eyebrows in deep focus, you noticed. 

The students stand up and get ready to leave, but before some walk out of the studio, they do something that surprises you. They walk up to Alexia with a glint in their eyes, and ask her for a picture. She complies with every request.

Clearly, Alexia is someone important and you feel embarrassed for not knowing why. 

Only the couple and Alexia remain in the studio. You start cleaning up all the supplies scattered all while pretending not to listen. With what you do manage to catch of their conversation, your best guess is that it has something to do with a football club which is something you know very little about. Sports are not really your thing and it has nothing to do with being forced to play goalie once when you were six, and then proceeding to get a ball kicked at your face. Repeatedly. 

Alexia and the couple exchange farewells and the conversation comes to an end. With your back turned, you only hear the sound of the door opening and closing and then, a brief silence. 

“Do you usually stay and clean?” 

Alexia’s voice startles you, causing you to jump and let out a shriek. You assumed she had left like everyone else. It’s not like she has a reason to stay. 

“Oh!” she says, taking a step closer with a look of concern, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

Slightly embarrassed at your reaction, you take a deep to calm your beating heart. “No, uh,” you say with a light chuckle, hand on your chest. “I stay and clean up. It’s part of the gig.” 

Alexia looks around, noticing all the dirty brushes and containers that will surely keep you occupied for another hour. Without a word, she follows your lead and starts picking up as well.

“Wait, you really don’t have to.” 

She stops and looks at you with the same intensity she did at the coffee shop. “I want to.” 

Once again, you're left speechless by one simple look and unable to make any further protests. Alexia seems to have this power of you that you find both unsettling and strangely exhilarating. 

With all the brushes and containers in the sink, you notice she has no intention of leaving until the task is complete. 

“I wash, you dry?” you suggest, turning on the faucet to allow the water to remove the excess paint from the brushes. 

“You wash, I dry.” Alexia stands next to you, her arm bushing ever so slightly against yours. 

It’s a small studio, so it’s a small sink. You’re acutely aware of the warmth radiating from her and you feel it spreading through you.

"I know it's a little obvious since you're the teacher and all," Alexia says, meticulously cleaning the brushes with a level of care and precision most people wouldn't exhibit. "But you’re really talented."

Your laughter is warm and appreciative. "That's quite a compliment based on just that small painting I did."

Alexia shakes her head slightly and her gaze drifts up to the paintings and sketches adorning the walls of the studio. "These are all yours, right?"

You don't bother looking up at the paintings. You're well aware of the pieces she's referring to. Instead, you fix your eyes on her, astonishment subtly etched on your face.

"You noticed."

Alexia meets your gaze. "Hard not to."

For a brief moment, both of you remain silent, allowing the compliment to linger in the air. But you feel flustered, so you look away and try to think of something to change the subject.

"Do you mind if I ask what you do?"

Alexia straightens her posture with an unmistakable hint of pride. "I play for Barça."

And you feel like idiot for not knowing that. "No wonder everyone was so starstruck when you walked in."

Alexia's lips curve into a tight, shy smile. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that," she says, as she finishes drying the last of the brushes.

"Don't be," you say, shifting your weight against the sink. "I should apologize for being from here and not recognizing you. I feel like I'm committing some sort of crime."

Her laughter is light, and she leans in ever so slightly. "You know, I think there's a reward for turning in people like you," she teases.

Biting your bottom lip to stifle a grin, you reply, "And if I offer a better reward for keeping my secret?"

Alexia edges slightly closer, curiosity dancing in her eyes. "What do you have in mind?"

Her proximity sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach. "How about a private class next Friday? You'll have the teacher all to yourself."

Alexia pretends to ponder it for a moment, but eventually extends her hand, and you take it without hesitation.

"We have a deal."

__________________________

Over the next few days, you find yourself more attentive than ever at who enters the cafe. Every time the door swings open, your head instinctively turns in its direction. Not only that, you’re so lost in thought that you struggle to remember even the simplest of orders.

After you botch the third order of the day, Carla's curiosity gets the better of her. "Okay, I have to know," she says, her arms crossed over her chest, "what's got your head in the clouds?"

"Sorry... I just have something on my mind, that's all," you reply, trying to dismiss it. "It’s stupid."

She seems willing to let it go, but when you reach for the whole milk, she has to intervene. "He asked for oat milk," she points out, swapping the milk cartons for you. "Alright, spill it — and I don't mean the drink."

With the customer only a few feet away, you lower your voice so only Carla can hear. "I met someone…"

Carla's eyebrows rise in intrigue. "I like where this is going."

You quickly complete the order under Carla's watchful gaze and hand it to the customer with an apologetic smile.

Once he walks out of the cafe, Carla swivels back to you. "You were saying."

"She was at my class last week even stayed to help me clean up. You know I haven't exactly flirted with anyone in a while, but I'm pretty sure that's what happened. And now…" you take a deep breath, "I can't stop thinking about her,” you say rather quickly, almost embarrassed.

“It doesn't help that she's a regular here so I'm expecting her to walk through that door any second, and it has me on edge."

"Wait," Carla says, holding her hand up, "she's a regular?"

You nod. "Yeah, it’s Alexia. I think you know her actually."

You still haven't forgotten the glances her and Alexia have shared in the past. But with everything that has happened, you never had the chance to ask Carla what it all meant. 

Upon hearing Alexia's name, the broadest grin spreads across Carla's face.

"What?" you ask, puzzled.

"It's about damn time!" She exclaims, a tad too loudly. The few customers in the cafe glance her way, and she quickly apologizes.

"What do you mean, it's about time?"

After releasing her excitement with a few soft claps, Carla places a hand on your shoulder. "Querida, Alexia has been coming here for like two months just to see you and you barely paid her any attention. La pobre, she would get so sad whenever you asked for her name."

It all starts to make sense. So much has been happening around you but you’ve been oblivious to it all. 

You playfully slap Carla on her side. "Why didn't you say anything?!"

Carla shrugs, her smile beaming. "What can I say — I'm a romantic! I didn't want to force it." Her smile dims slightly. "Besides, I figured you had a lot on your mind with your mom and the exhibit. I didn't think you were all that interested in dating."

Carla's right: dating hasn't exactly been a priority. You haven’t gone on a date in a year and it’s a fact that hasn’t exactly kept you up at night. How can you seek out love when your heart is in danger of being broken in a million little pieces? If your worst fear becomes a reality, there might not be a heart left to give. But even so, you cannot deny that while it still remains in tack, it beats a little faster at the mention of Alexia. 

"You're not wrong," you concede, "but a woman like that is worth moving up the priority list."

Carla snickers and wiggles her eyebrows. "She's gorgeous, isn't she?"

"Very."

__________________________

It's Friday night and you can’t stop staring at the clock in your art studio. Its hands seem to mock you. Each tick echoes through the empty space, driving you mad with anticipation. It's your fault for arriving an hour early, but you just couldn't bear waiting at home any longer. You haven't felt like this in so long, and you just don't know what to do with yourself.

Back in France, you only dated casually. Some relationships were more serious than others sure, but you never really saw a future in any of them. Your heart and mind were too committed to your art, so it was difficult for anyone to compete.

But this time it feels different. Your art, which used to consume you, now seems to be somewhat in the background, and thoughts of Alexia have taken center stage.

The art studio is still. The easels and art supplies waiting in anticipation for Alexia. You set two easels in the corner next to the large windows that reveal the night sky, dotted with stars.

And if you're not staring at the clock, you're staring at the blank canvas, trying to envision the scene you want to create. But of course, your thoughts drift to Alexia, and all you can see is the curve of her smile and the sparkle in her eyes.

The door to the studio opens and Alexia walks in. Immediately, you feel the heat rise in your cheeks.

"Hi," she greets you, choosing to remain standing by the door.

You fight the nerves threatening to consume you and take the necessary steps to reach her. "Hi," you reply, hands intertwined nervously behind you.

Alexia looks at you for a moment, a smirk teasing her lips. There's no doubt she can sense your nerves. "You know, I ran into some officers on the way here."

"Oh yeah?"

She hums and nods her head, "They were actually looking for someone that reminded me a lot of you."

You bite your bottom lip to suppress your laughter. You've missed being teased like this. "Well, either you led them right to me, or you kept your end of the deal."

Alexia takes a moment, a mischievous look in her eye. "She's right here, officers!"

This earns Alexia a playful nudge on her shoulder. "Alright, you got me," you admit, your laughter filling the studio.

“Are you ready to get started, captain?”

Alexia nods and follows you to the easels by the window. She doesn’t try to be slick when she scoots her stool closer you. She makes it very obvious and, you of course, make no protest.

In the beginning, you focus on giving her a few pointers on how to work with charcoal. It's all very professional, which does help calm the butterflies in your stomach.

But then Alexia glances over at your canvas and asks, "How do you do that shading thing you do?"

You give her a smile and lean in closer to her canvas. With the proximity, you can smell her perfume, her breath against your hair, her knee pressed up against yours.

When you finish explaining, you turn to Alexia, only to realize that she hasn't exactly been paying much attention to what you were doing.

"Did you listen to a word I said?" You ask teasingly.

Alexia blushes, a sheepish smile on her face. "Sorry, I got distracted," she admits, her eyes flickering to your lips for a moment. "Show me again."

And you do so, not just because you want her to learn, but because you like the feeling of having her close.

After a little while of working in peaceful silence, Alexia decides to speak up. "So, in the last class, you mentioned that you moved back here from France?"

You give her a nod, "Yeah, almost a year now."

"Why did you come back?"

Your hand stills and hovers above the canvas. It doesn't matter how much time has gone by or how many times you've had to talk about it, your mom's illness is and will always be difficult to put into words.

"You don't have to answer if you don't want to," Alexia says, sensing your hesitation.

But you shake your head and smile, your eyes glistening. "No, it's okay," you say, voice soft but steady.

"My mom was diagnosed with cancer, and of course I had moved back to be with her. I used to say that it would take something really big for me to move back here, and… it turns out I was right."

Alexia listens intently to your every word. "I'm really sorry."

You finally gather the courage to look at Alexia, and you see two things: a sense of understanding and a little smudge of charcoal on her cheek.

"Thank you," you tell her with a small smile, which only grows bigger the longer you look at her.

"What?" she asks, confused.

"You have a little charcoal…" you tell her, pointing to the smudge on her cheek.

"Oh," she says and immediately tries to clean it off herself but fails to actually reach the spot.

"Let me help." You lean in closer to her, and with a soft, careful touch, you reach out and gently wipe the smudge away with your thumb.

Time seems to stand still as you both sit there, faces close in a moment of pure, unspoken emotion.

Slowly, you pull away, your cheeks flushed and your heart pounding. The moment is broken, but the feelings remain palpable. 

“Gracias,” she says, her hand on where she felt your touch.

Unlike the last class, this time there's no excuse for Alexia to stay and help you clean up. So, with the drawings done, you're both just standing a little awkwardly by the door, unsure of what to do next.

"Would you like to go for a drink? I know a bar nearby."

Your eyes widen in surprise, and then a smile lights up you face. "I'd love that."

And that’s how the two of you end up at Las Vermudas, a cozy bar tucked away in the Gràcia district. 

You follow Alexia to a booth in a far corner of the bar. Once you both have settled in, the bartender comes over to take your orders. You can’t keep your eyes off her as she orders her drink and when she catches you looking, she smiles.

It’s like the two of you are in your own little world. The conversation flows effortlessly and eventually, it leads back to your return.

“I felt so settled back in France. Everything just made sense. I was making all the right connections through Cécile, my mentor. It’s actually thanks to her that my work will be featured in an exhibit in a few months. Now, I have no idea where or who I’ll be next year.”

Almost like she can read your mind, Alexia asks, “What are you afraid of?” 

“When I go back — if I do ever go back, I m scared that I just won’t be the same. That nothing will be the same. And that maybe I lost my chance to be truly great. It’s not just talent to succeed in my world, it’s a lot introductions with right people.”

Once again, you see nothing but understanding in Alexia. Her finger trails the edge of her glass, eyebrows slightly furrowed in thought. 

"You know, there was a time when I wasn't sure I'd ever play again," she admits, her voice wavering slightly. 

Your eyes widen in concern, and you lean in, eager to hear more.

"Two years ago I suffered an ACL injury and I was out for almsot a year. No matter how many times I told myself that I would come back stronger, there was still that little bit of doubt that would keep me up at night. I was so scared that I would not be the same player and my career would just be a what if."

“And are you the same player?” 

A smirk tugs on her lips. “No,” she reaches for her glass and takes a small sip. “I’m better.” she says, and her smirk transforms into a proud smile. 

And so you raise your own glass to her in admiration. It’s one thing to overcome an injury, but it’s another thing entirely to overcome the doubt that so desperately wants to hold you back.

After a little more back and forth and occasional teasing, you feel comfortable to bring up something that’s been on your mind.

 "So, I have to admit something," you say, hesitating slightly. "You know my coworker, Carla?” 

Alexia shifts in her seat “Si, we’ve talked a little here and there.”

You have a pretty good idea of what they’ve talked about — particularly how blind and clueless you’ve been for months.

But even though Alexia is no longer a stranger and you know for a fact that she’s interested in you, it doesn’t make it any easier to take that leap forward and be vulnerable with someone.

“Well, I kept getting distracted at the cafe, like I couldn’t get an order right to save my life.�� You look down at the glass in your hands, “and I’m not the best barista by any means, but Carla could tell my mind was somewhere else.” 

Alexia remains silent, but you feel her scooting a little closer to you.

“What were you thinking about?” 

Your finger taps the glass repeatedly as you prepare yourself to reply to a question Alexia probably already knows the answer to. 

“I was thinking about you.” 

She scoots again a little closer, but this time actually reaches for your hand. It gives you the confidence you need to look away from the glass, and into her eyes. 

“And when I told her I was thinking about you she got really excited, because as it turns out… you’ve been thinking about me too.”

A light blush spreads across Alexia's cheeks. "I thought you’d never notice me,” she says with a light chuckle. “I wanted you from the moment I saw you.”

Your eyes drift down to your hand and you watch how delicately Alexia trails over your knuckles.

"Every time I saw you at the cafe, I would try to find the reason to talk to you, but you wouldn’t even look me in the eye. So, I just waited and hoped that maybe, just maybe, you'd just look up."

Unlike so many times before in the cafe, this time you do look up. The intensity in her eyes no longer scares you. You welcome it and embrace it as the urge to close the distance and taste her lips becomes irresistible.  

Everything indicates that she feels it too. You don’t think about it too much. You just do it.

When your lips finally meet, it's as if a spark ignites, sending a wave of warmth and desire throughout your entire body. The kiss, tender and sweet, makes the world around you fade away, and all that exists is the sensation of her lips.

When you pull away, breathless and exhilarated, you rest your forehead against hers and whisper, “I don’t think I’ll ever notice anyone else ever again.”

__________________________

With Alexia by your side, life takes a pleasant turn. After months of nothing but stress and just expecting the worst, she has brought a little light to your darkness. Not because she showers with grand gestures of affection. No, it’s the little things she does that mean the most. Like waiting for you outside the cafe after your shift so you’re the first person she sees. And it doesn’t matter how tired you are, seeing her waiting for you is like a breath of fresh air.

Because she makes you feel like this, it’s easy for you to embrace her world and her passions even though they differ so greatly from your own. It took a little bit of convincing and a lot of kisses, but you eventually agreed to let her teach you how to play football. You stumble and fall more often than not but Alexia is patient and encouraging.  However, it’s hard for her to suppress her laughter at how many times you miss the ball and just kick the air. 

But what surprises you the most, is that other than at the First Brushstroke, you’ve had no interest in painting. No longer are you driving yourself crazy with the exhibit and the damned missing piece.

“Oye,” Carla calls out to you, “stop thinking about Alexia and help me stock up the pastry shelf.”

You roll your eyes with a smirk in response but don’t bother to defend yourself. She’s right after all. “Fine, fine.” 

“By the way, the owner just texted me that he might stop by tomorrow,” Carla informs you and her expression shows that she’s not all that pleased.

You throw your head back and groan, “of course he is.” 

Every once in a blue moon the owner of the cafe decides to show up and pretend like he actually cares about the place. Just the mention of his possible visit makes you want to take off your apron and quit.

What makes matters worse is that Alexia won’t be waiting for you outside today. She’s traveling back with the team and you expect her to go straight home and get some rest. 

The two of you are just about done restocking the shelf when the door to the cafe opens.

“Ale?” 

Her eyes immediately find you and she gives you a big, beaming smile. Your heart skips a beat as you return her smile, a tangible connection passing between you even from across the cafe.

“Hola, preciosa.”

Within a second you’re in her arms, face nestled in the crook of your neck. “You’re back,” you mumble against her skin, giving a quick peck on her cheek.

“I am,” she says with a little squeeze. 

Behind you, Carla clears her throat to get your attention. "Hey, can you bring out the rest of the apple puff ones from the back? I'll cover the counter."

You glance at the shelf and see more than enough of the apple puff-pastries and you, of course, catch the hint. “Will do,” you reply with a grateful smile.

You take Alexia’s hand and guide her towards the storeroom. As you pass Carla, you faintly hear Alexia say “thank you,” to her. 

The moment the two of you step into the room and the door closes, your hands reach up to cradle Alexia’s face and pull her in for a slow, passionate kiss.

It’s as if all the days you've spent apart melt away. "I missed you," you murmur repeatedly against each other's lips, the words barely audible. 

Alexia with her arms around your waist, draws you even closer, and you lose yourself in the warmth of her embrace. 

When you finally pull apart and catch your breath, you can't help but playfully reprimand her. "You had such a long flight. Why aren’t you at home and in bed right now?"

Alexia shakes her head as if that was the last thing in her mind. "I wanted to see my girlfriend,” she says as she trails gentle kisses down your neck.

Your eyes widen in surprise at her words. Gently, you grasp her face with your hands, "I'm your girlfriend?" This is the first time the title has been uttered, but it has certainly been swirling around in your mind. 

She nods with an undeniable confidence because to her, it's the most obvious thing in the world. "Yes, and I am yours."

There’s a saying: actions speak louder than words. So, rather than proclaim how much her words mean to you, you capture her lips once more for a kiss. Hands find their way underneath her shirt, tracing the curves and lines you've come to know so well. And as the intensity continues to build, Alexia attempts to back you against a wall, but when you take a step back you end up tripping over a box, stumbling backward.

Alexia tries to catch you, but her foot gets caught up in something and she ends up losing her balance as well. You find yourself in a tangled mess of limbs and unable to control your laughter. 

“You weren’t kidding,” she says, extending her hand to help you up. “This place is a mess.” 

You nod in agreement, hands on your hips, "Someone keeps sneaking in at night and turning the place upside down."

"Really?"

“No,” you drop the facade and smirk, "Carla and I are just incapable of cleaning up after ourselves."

Alexia chuckles and shakes her head, a fond smile playing on her lips as she takes in the chaos that surrounds the two of you.

"I've got to go back” you wrap your arms around Alexia's neck, drawing her closer for a quick peck on her cheek. “Duty calls.”

Alexia nods in understanding. "Can’t leave our girl stranded.”

Walking out of the backroom, you’re relieved to not see Carla overwhelmed by a long line at the counter. 

“We really need to get that place in order,” you tell Carla, pointing back to the stockroom.

Carla grimaces, “I know,” she says, “I hate to say it, but we might need to stay late today and clean up in case that idiot actually decides to show up.”

Alexia, who has been listening to the conversation, raises her hand. "I’m happy to help if you need an extra hand."

Carla looks at Alexia, then back at you with desperation in her eyes, “we definitely do.” 

A part of you wants to say no because you know Alexia needs the rest, but you can already feel the muscles in your back start to tighten from all the heavy lifting that awaits you. With Alexia's help, the task of cleaning the backroom would be much more manageable.

So you give in, “Ok,” you point your finger at Alexia rather sternly, “go home, get some rest and we’ll see you here at closing.”

"So bossy,” Alexia playfully blows a kiss to you and says, "I’ll see you soon.”

Again, it’s the little things that make you fall more in love with her day by day.

__________________________

Tonight, your mom is teaching you how to cook her famous Fideuà which also happens to be one of Alexia’s favorite dishes. So, it’s only fitting that she’s by your side, helping you cook and correcting your many, many mistakes.

“Now, add the stock and wine and bring it to a simmer.”

Your mom, feeling a little too weak to stand, sits nearby at the counter, offering her guidance and expertise on the dish.

The atmosphere in the kitchen is light and filled with laughter as your mom and Alexia tease you mercilessly. The two hit it off right away, so much so that sometimes you feel like the third wheel. And while you may pout and complain, you love to see your mom regain that spark in her eyes that you love so much. All she’s ever wanted is for you to be happy. Your happiness is her happiness. So, when she sees you with Alexia, laughing and smiling, she’s satisfied.

“Oh, my beautiful daughter has always been a handful, Ale. I remember the day I found a nude magazine under her bed.”

Alexia chokes on the wine, a little bit spilling from the corners of her lips.

“Mama!”

Your mom brushes you off, a smirk on her lips. “She gave me this ridiculous excuse, saying it was to study the female form for a painting she was working on.”

“It was!”

“Mi amor, you’re a woman — all you had to do was look in a mirror. You didn’t need three magazines for that.”

You cover your face with your hands in embarrassment, “dios, please make it stop.” 

Alexia shares a look with your mom, and they burst into laughter.

Thankfully, the teasing comes to end, and you can focus back on the dish that you so desperately don’t want to mess up again.

"I tried so many times to make this when I was in France, but wow, it tasted terrible," you confess, shaking your head.

Your mom speaks up, her voice gentle but firm. "You see, that’s why it's important that I teach you these things while I can."

Feeling as though someone has punched you in the stomach, you turn your back to her, and you try to suppress the tears that threaten to spill. Her words serve as a painful reminder of the possibility of losing her.

Alexia quickly notices your distress and kisses your shoulder, providing you with that little bit of comfort you need to gather your emotions. To lighten the mood, she shares a few of her own cooking horror stories, making you laugh and successfully distracting you from the sadness that had momentarily gripped you.

After dinner, you take Alexia by the hand and lead her to your childhood bedroom turned art studio. Her eyes go wide with curiosity and admiration. "So, this is where the magic happens," she says. "I love it," Alexia breathes, her gaze darting around the room, taking in every detail.

You walk over to a corner where several canvases lean against the wall, each one partially covered with a cloth. Gently, you pull them away to reveal the paintings you've been working on for the upcoming exhibit.

Alexia gasps in awe, her eyes drinking in the vibrant colors and intricate details of each piece. "Incredible, mi amor.”

You feel your cheeks flush at the compliment. "When I got the news of my mom, I felt like I didn’t have anyone to talk to. I had so much built up and I needed to just let it all out. And this is what came out.”

It only takes Alexia a few seconds to understand the meanings behind every piece. She reaches her hand out to you, and you take it seeking the comfort you can only get from her touch. She wraps her arms around your waist and rests her chin on your shoulder, "I can’t tell you that everything will be ok, but I can promise that I will be here for you, no matter what."

You believe her.

__________________________

Your favorite nights are the ones spent with Alexia. In her arms you feel safe and at peace. Somehow, she keeps your anxieties and worst fears far, far away. As your fingers gently trace the contours of her face, you feel a warmth and happiness you never want to go a day without. It turns out this isn’t just a fleeting infatuation, after all. Your love for her is real. 

"I love you," you murmur, voice warm and sincere.

Alexia eyes flutter open and she smiles, "I love you too.” 

Her words ignite something in you that has laid dormant in you for far too long. Your mind begins to race with ideas, colors, and compositions. It's as if a dam within you has burst, releasing this desire to express your love for her through your art. It's a powerful sensation that you simply cannot ignore and it demands you to act on it immediately.

With a sense of urgency, you jump out of bed and run to grab the sketchbook you carry with you everywhere in your bag.

“What are you doing?” Alexia calls out, her voice full of curiosity and a hint of amusement. 

With no attempt to explain yourself, you reach for her vanity stool and place it a few feet away from the bed. The pencil in your hand starts to glide across the paper capturing the lines and curves of her body. Carefully, you study the gentle curve of her neck and the way her hair cascades over the pillow.

Alexia, now catching on to the reason behind your outburst, remains still. A comforting silence takes over the room, broken only by the sound of the pencil dancing across the page.

But the more you look at her and take in every detail of her body, the more restless she becomes. Her hands grip the bed sheet, teeth tugging on her bottom lip. With one swift motion, the sheets that cover her body fall to the ground as she gets up from the bed and walks over to you.

Hovering above you, she takes the sketchbook from your hands and sets it aside. Looking up at her, she brushes a strand of hair from your face and tucks in behind your ear. “I love how you look at me,” she whispers.

Her touch is so tender, and her words so genuine that makes you feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

You feel compelled to drop down to your knees.

Hands run up and down the back of her thighs, nails digging in ever so slightly into her skin. You press your lips against her navel, and then trail down ever so slowly.

Alexia’s breath hitches with each kiss. She rests her hand on your head, her fingers threading through your hair as she gasps your name. The sound of her voice, breathy and filled with desire, sends a shiver down your spine.

When your tongue reaches her most sensitive spot, Alexia lifts her leg and rests it on the vanity stool, allowing you better access to her.

“Oh…”

With every gentle stroke and teasing touch, you proclaim your love. And in response, Alexia's holds you firmly in place, a clear indication she has no interest in ever letting you go.

And then her eyes lock onto yours, you see that same intensity that left you speechless when you first saw her — really saw her, but now you also see love in her gaze. Ever since that day in the coffee shop you have been at her mercy. But now as she trembles with pleasure by your hand and tongue, she’s the one begging for it.

Throughout the rest of the night, you take your time exploring and memorizing every curve and dip of Alexia's body with your lips. You're determined to commit every detail to memory to ensure that when it’s time, you’ll be able to capture her image her to perfection on the canvas.

__________________________

With a step back, you take a moment to appreciate the progress you've made on the painting. In a trance, the hours you've spent working on it have flown by. The creative block that has plagued you has lost its control over you.

And you have Alexia to thank.

The painting is inspired by the sketch you made that night. The sheet drapes over her body, revealing just enough of her silhouette to create a sense of mystery and allure. The image draws you in and entices you to want more, to see more. Although covered, you can see the toned contours of her body, from the definition in her arms to the powerful muscles in her legs.

Her knee peeks out from the bed sheets and a small yet very significant scar can be seen. The scar tells a story of overcoming obstacles and pushing through no matter. It’s a testament to her strength and her ability to rise above challenges and come out on top, stronger than before.

You continue working late into the night, each brushstroke bringing you closer to immortalizing Alexia. The painting still requires a lot of work to reach the level of perfection you desire, but you’re determined to have it done in time for the exhibit.

It’s the final, missing piece. They very piece that alluded you, and the very one you had given up on. But liked you hoped, it did make its way to you eventually. And it did so in the shape of the woman you fallen in love with.  

__________________________

Waiting for the doctor always feels like an eternity. You hate everything about the room you’re in. The sterile environment, the faint smell of disinfectant, and the uncomfortable silence that only serves as a constant reminder of the pain and suffering your mom has had to endure.

Incapable of sitting down, you remain standing, hands wringing together as your heart beats rapidly in your chest. Each visit to this room has been a roller coaster of emotions, leaving you with a sense of dread every time you step foot inside. Even the ticking sound of the clock feels like a signal of impending heartache.

"Is Ale nervous for the game?"

Every time you've been in this room, all you've heard is bad news after bad news. The crushing weight of your mother's cancer hangs over you like a dark cloud, making it nearly impossible to focus. You long for the day when you can walk into this room without feeling like the world is collapsing around you.

"Mija?"

"Hmm?"

"The game against Real Madrid is later today, right?"

You manage a small smile, appreciating her attempt to ease your tension. "Yeah, it's today."

She smiles, her eyes sparkling with pride. Unlike you, she’s made her peace with it all. "I'm sure she'll do great."

Just as you're about to respond, the door opens, and the doctor walks in, a gentle smile on his face. Your heart races as you brace yourself for the news.

"I have good news for both of you," he begins, his tone warm and reassuring. "Lídia, the treatment has been effective. The latest blood tests show that you are in remission.”

As the doctor's words sink in, disbelief, relief, and an overwhelming sense of gratitude wash over you in waves. After so long of only getting bad news, it's hard to believe that this moment has finally come. You've spent countless nights lying awake, fearing the worst. 

You glance over at your mom, searching her face for any sign that this is just another cruel dream and that you’ll wake up from. But her eyes, filled with tears of joy, tell you that this is real and for the first time in so long, you breathe a sigh of relief.

"Really? Are you sure?" Your mom asks, disbelief and hope mixed in her voice.

"Yes, Lídia, I'm certain," he confirms. "The next step is consolidation treatment help prevent a relapse, but as of now, you're in remission and that is very good news."

Unable to contain your emotions any longer, you rush to her side, enveloping her in a tight embrace. She holds you close, tears of joy and relief streaming down both of your faces.

"You’re going to be ok," you manage to choke out between sobs.

Amidst the whirlwind of emotions, you remember that Alexia had asked you to text her about the results. She wanted to know and be there for you, regardless of the outcome.

With trembling fingers, you pull out your phone and type a message to Alexia:

📲 – she’s in remission!!!!!!!!

📲 – we’re still shock but I’ll tell you everything later

📲 – good luck today!! I love you ♥️ ♥️ ♥️

The two of you make it back to the house in time to watch El Clásico. Even though you’re not there in person, you can tell the atmosphere in the stadium is electric. Every time Alexia appears on the screen, your heart swells up with pride.

The game is tense. Both teams are playing their hearts out, and while you try to pay attention to everything and every player, like Alexia has taught you, you're especially focused on her performance. Suddenly, she intercepts a pass from a Madrid player and makes a break for it.

Your heart races as you watch her weave through the defenders, getting closer and closer to the goal. Your eyes go wide when Alexia strikes the ball and sends it soaring into the net. The crowd goes wild, and you and your mom jump up from the couch, cheering and clapping.

Alexia's teammates swarm around her, congratulating her on the goal. Instead of walking away back to her position with the rest of the team, she points at the camera and then lifts up her jersey.

 To your surprise, she reveals the words "Un pasito más, Lídia!" written on her undershirt. Just one more step.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you glance at your mom, who is just as shocked as you are. Tears fill her eyes as she covers her mouth, touched by Alexia's dedication to her.

The little things matter, yes. But sometimes, the grand gestures sure do mean a lot too.

__________________________

Some time has passed since your mom went into remission and although there have been significant improvements in her health, there are still days when she doesn't feel her best. Today is one of those days, and unfortunately, it also happens to be the opening of the art exhibit.

As you gather your things to leave, you glance at your mom sitting on the couch, wrapped in a warm blanket, looking a little pale and weary. Disappointment is evident in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, mi niña" she says, her voice heavy with regret. "I really wanted to be there for you tonight.”

You walk over and sit next to her, taking her hand in yours. "Mama, you’re not missing anything crazy. Besides, you’ll be there for the next exhibit, the one after that, and the one after that."

Your mother smiles weakly and nods. "I'm so proud of you,” she says, “tell Carla and Ale to take lots of pictures!”

“"I will, mama,” you say with a chuckle as lean down give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Tia should be here in a few minutes. Please, get some rest.”

When you step outside and close the door, you allow yourself to feel the disappointment you hid from her. Considering that all but one of the pieces are dedicated to her, of course you wanted her there. But still, you’re determined to make the most of this night to honor her and everything she has been through.

At the exhibit, you're accompanied by Carla. The gallery is buzzing with excitement, and your art has garnered a lot of attention and praise. However, you find it hard to take in the moment because Alexia is running late. Very late. The fact that she hasn't replied to any of your messages certainly doesn’t help.

Carla noticing your concern, rests a hand on your shoulder. "Hey, I'm sure she'll be here any minute.”

You nod, attempting to stay focused on the event, but it's difficult not to let your emotions show. “I’m just worried that’s all.”

“I know, but she’s probably stuck in traffic or can’t find parking. You know-” of the sudden, her gaze drifts past you and towards the entrance and her eyes go wide.

Confused, you turn around to see what caught Carla’s attention. By the entrance, you see Alexia walk in with your mom by her side, holding on to her hand. Your mom looks tired but determined.

You rush towards them, shocked and tears threatening to stream down your face. "Mama! You're here!”

Alexia grins sheepishly. "I was on my here when she called me to pick her up and wouldn’t take no for an answer. I see where you get it from."

Still holding on to Alexia, you mom smiles and reaches out for you. "I couldn't let you down, mija. I just had to be here with you."

You embrace them both, overwhelmed by their presence. “I’m so happy you’re both here.”

With them by your side, the night becomes even that more special. Nothing feels better than being able to introduce your mom to fellow artists and attendees.

Eventually, a reporter from a local arts magazine pulls you aside for a brief interview, asking about the various pieces you have displayed at the exhibit.

He’s particularly interested in one. "The Missing Piece is truly something special," the reporter says, his eyes locked on the painting. "What’s the significance of its title?”

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, your gaze lingering on the painting. "At first, it felt like there was a piece missing for the exhibit, but it turns out that it was something I was missing from my own life."

You glance over at Alexia, who is admiring your artwork with your mom and Carla. "And when, I finally found it, everything changed. My missing piece brought me a sense of completeness and balance that I desperately needed.”

The reporter smiles. "Your feelings are evident in this piece, and it's no wonder it's drawing so much attention tonight."

"My mentor used to say that wherever the eyes go, so does the heart. And wherever the heart goes, so do the hands. The piece will live forever, and a hundred years from now someone will look at it and they’ll feel exactly what feel.”

“And what’s that?”

You glance over at Alexia once again. Almost as if she senses your gaze, she turns to meet your eyes. With a knowing smile, she winks at you, acknowledging the connection between the two you and the inspiration behind The Missing Piece.

“Love.”

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #woso x imagine #woso x reader

[daffi-990]

WIP Wednesday

Taggedby @steadfastsaturnsrings @wikiangela @devirnis @callmenewbie @hippolotamus @jeeyuns @jesuisici33 @exhuastedpigeon. Thank you my dears for tagging me 😘💕

Bit of a longer snippet today. Wrote this the other night (before Christmas) when I had a random burst of writing beans and quickly pumped out 1.5K after a shower. It was unexpected and I wasn’t sure if it flowed or was just delirious ramblings, but I think it’s okay?

It’s from Chapter Six of Rival Firefighters 🚒, which is Eddie’s POV. The whole fic will be probably 10 chapters long and I’m excited to be over the halfway mark! Unfortunately I probably won’t be posting until the whole fic is finished cos my anxiety would flip if I started posting and it wasn’t finished yet 😅

Anyways … here you go …

Eddie’s time at the 118 is drawing to a close with only a few days left until he’s heading back to the 136. The mood at the station has been a bit down, the team already mourning the oncoming loss, Buck especially. Their resident golden retriever has been sulking around with his tail between his legs, throwing Eddie the saddest puppy dog eyes.

The thing is, Eddie loves being at the 118 and working with Buck, Hen, Chim, Bobby and the rest of the team. He wasn’t expecting to form such strong friendships here or find the perfect partner, but the 118 surprised him. Even though he’s not officially one of them, they have accepted him as their own.

When Carla had a family emergency two weeks into Eddie’s time at the 118 and Eddie had to go pick up Chris and bring him back to the station, Bobby had welcomed Chris with a warm smile and immediately begun showing him around. Eddie had tried to apologize, explaining Shannon was out of town so he didn’t know where else to take him and Bobby had simply told him that there, at the station with them, was the right place for him and that Buck had filled Bobby in on the situation as soon as Eddie had left to go pick up Chris. A flood of warmth had threatened to bring Eddie to his knees but he’d managed to remain standing, moving forward to embrace Bobby in a hug that showed just how much the small act of kindness had meant to him.

Eddie feels like he’s being torn away from the start of something special, but he also knew coming in that he wasn’t going to be here forever, it was just a temporary gig. He’s got three more days until he has to say goodbye to them. To Buck.

He knows Buck is going to stay in his life despite Eddie leaving to go back to the 136, but he has to say goodbye to working with him. Yeah they’ll probably see each other from time to time on a call and get to work with each other then, but it won’t be the same. Working side by side with Buck every shift is honestly one of Eddie’s favorite things, which is funny seeing as how once upon a time Eddie dreaded seeing Buck on a call.

Buck is funny, knows a whole bunch of random facts and has the biggest heart of anyone Eddie’s ever met. He’s also a giant dork who manages to get himself into all kinds of trouble, like right now Buck has somehow managed to tangle himself up in one of the hoses while doing an equipment check. Eddie shakes his head in exasperation as he makes his way down the loft to help Buck out before the 6 foot 2 lug breaks something.

No pressure tagging: @watchyourbuck @eddiebabygirldiaz @rainbow-nerdss @thewolvesof1998 @try-set-me-on-fire @the-likesofus @athenagranted @spotsandsocks @spagheddiediaz @shitouttabuck @disasterbuckdiaz @fortheloveofbuddie @giddyupbuck @hoodie-buck @honestlydarkprincess @jamespearce9-1-1 @lover-of-mine @ladydorian05 @theotherbuckley @loserdiaz @captain-hen @nmcggg @monsterrae1 @malewifediaz @mellaithwen and anyone else who wants to share something 🙂

#fic: stuck now so long we just got the start wrong #rival firefighters fic #daffi writes #i really want to write but my brain is like nope #so I’m just cruising and enjoying the holiday season #picking up some old hobbies and the writing will come when it does #can’t force it unfortunately #buddie wip #buddie #hope everyone had a lovely Christmas (if you celebrated it)

[kyojinacts]

Actor AU Headcanons for some of my favorite SNK/AOT characters!

1) Tea with honey is a staple resource on set due to the amount of screaming that the show requires. Eren was, naturally, the one who made the most of that tea during the earlier seasons. However, he was able to temporarily trade off his reputation as a screamer with Zeke, given that his character became more solemn and quiet as time went on. And, well, Zeke's character couldn't be what he was without the screaming.

2) When the iconic members of the 104th training corps met Levi for the first time, they caught him while he was method acting, and were intimidated. Little did they know that, outside of work, Levi has a very warm, kind, and charismatic personality. This catches both actors on set and fans off guard due to the stark contrast it provides against his character's demeanor. He finds it very, very amusing.

3) While we're on the topic of contrast, Hange actually finds titans very unnerving to look at, unlike their character. They typically don't have to encounter many due to most titans being animated via CGI, but there are some (like Sawney and Beane) that were constructed for "authenticity of reaction", much to Hange's chagrin. They maintain a professional front as much as they can. The only one who knows about their discomfort is Levi.

4) Mikasa breaking the floorboard in the scene where she strikes the human trafficker was entirely an accident. According to her, the floorboard had been unnaturally squeaky, but it was the last part of filming for the day, so she and the stage crew agreed to power through it. The poor girl apologized profusely, but Eren argued that it made the scene cooler. It seems as though Isayama agreed as the take was kept, though the audio team had to do some extensive cleaning to wipe out all the gasps and cries of shock that came from the unnatural breakage.

5) Sasha and Ymir are roommates who were both approached by a casting agent while volunteering at a food pantry. Ymir, though intrigued, was almost 100% sure that it was a scam, while Sasha did the research to check and dragged her friend to attend the auditions for shits and giggles. When they got their respective roles, they freaked out. Sasha almost dropped out, out of fear for what her family would think for being reckless, but Ymir urged her to take charge of her life, because opportunities like these don't come by.

6) The plot point of the Attack titan being able to send memories across time distresses Armin due to his belief that there are several timelines/futures that Eren's character could have chosen to follow rather than the one that was settled on. Isayama had to formally ask him to not discuss it during interviews, because the two of them knew that if Armin began his tirade, he won't stop.

6) Grisha and Carla are neither Eren's actual parents (in fact, Grisha is not even a father outside of work) but they both care about him as if he was their own since they saw him grow up on set. Zeke likes to joke that Grisha's method acting is spectacular in that way, since it took Grisha a bit of time to warm up to Zeke due to the latter's later appearance in the show.

7) The boy in the ending credits scene with the dog is Mikasa's little brother. He was always a big fan of his sister, and when presented with the opportunity to be a part of his sister's bigtime project, he took it with both hands eagerly.

8) The first scarf that Eren wraps around Mikasa was the only scarf that they used throughout the show. It has gone through a LOT, and is threadbare in many places. Despite this, Isayama refuses to have it mended. In an interview, Mikasa admits that she had gotten used to wearing the scarf, so during scenes when she wasn't supposed to wear it, she felt very exposed and empty.

9) Annie and Armin have a lot of deleted scenes/bloopers regarding their interactions for when Annie's character was in the crystal. In one scene, Annie is seen to dancing inside her crystal behind Armin as he monologued. In another, they switched places.

10) Connie and Jean are the ones to curse the most frequently after botching a scene. The others keep a tally on how many times. In the end, Connie barely ended up cursing more than Jean by two times. Connie's favorite curse words are "damn" and "shit" while Jean's is any variant of "fuck" like fuck, motherfucker, fucking hell, etc.

#attack on titan #aot #shingeki no kyojin #snk #eren yeager #mikasa ackerman #armin arlert #connie springer #jean kirstein #jean kirschstein #sasha braus #sasha blouse #annie leonhart #grisha yeager #carla yeager #zeke yeager #levi ackerman #hange zoe #ymir #hajime isayama #aot headcanons #actor au #aot actor au

[hippolotamus]

Hello friends, work has been kicking my ass and I am soooooo behind on tags. I am slowly but surely catching up and looking forward to reading all the things! So, small confession... I've been reworking pieces of come close (let me be home) so some of the snippets might look familiar from before. Hoping the writing beans will soon allow me to make new words. Until then, have this Eddie and Christopher moment before the first ball (all prev snippets here) 😘

“This awful, cursed thing— Argh!” Eddie drops the ends of his bowtie in frustration. It’s not like he even wants to attend this wretched ball tonight. Least of all to placate his mother.

It would be different if he were going as someone who could casually stand in the background, sipping lemonade and observing his surroundings. If only it were that simple. Instead he’s expected to not only be there, but socialize, dance, and interact with potential partners. How is he meant to choose who he’ll spend the rest of his life with – someone to care for his son – based on how well they can perform the quadrille or regurgitate meaningless facts? It’s utter insanity.

“Daddy?” The timid voice reaches out from behind him.

Eddie turns to see Christopher hovering in the doorway, watching intently. The welcome sight is enough for the weight of tonight’s expectations to fall away, finally allowing him to breathe. He goes to his son, picking him up and drinking in the surprised sound.

“What can I do for you, sir?”

Christopher’s nose scrunches in amusement at the endearment before he gets a very serious look on his face. “Can I come with you?”

“I wish,” Eddie huffs out a humorless laugh. “It would make things way more interesting. Although, honestly, I’d much rather stay here with you.”

“Why don’t you then?” Christopher blinks owlishly behind his glasses.

Eddie envies his youthful ignorance for not yet understanding the pressures and politics of adulthood. He sighs and rubs his temple with his free hand, trying to think of an explanation that isn’t an outright lie. With everything that’s happened in Christopher’s short life, Eddie always strives to be honest with him.

“Well, because,” he stretches the words out as his brain continues to configure them into an acceptable arrangement. “I– promised your abuela I would go.”

Chris nods thoughtfully, seeming to accept the answer he’s been given. But, of course, he’s always been more perceptive than Eddie gives him credit for.

“Is this because Abuela wants me to have a new mom?” His voice is quieter, the tone colored with hesitation. Eddie wants to somehow pull him closer, to carve a space beneath his ribs to keep him safe.

“Not a new one, exactly. You know that no one could ever replace your mother. This would be someone else to love and take care of you.”

“But I thought that’s why we have Carla,” Chris protests.

Eddie chuckles at his son’s logic and thinks he might be the one person who could match wits with Helena Diaz. “You’re right. She does both of those things. Carla loves and cares about you very much. It’s just… your abuela has some different ideas. She’s a little stuck in the past sometimes.”

“Okay.” Christopher grins brightly, removing any traces of his serious persona. “Then I hope you have fun and find someone nice for us.”

“Me, too, bud. Me, too.”

Eddie’s brought back to reality when his valet announces the carriage is ready. He presses a kiss to Christopher’s temple and gently sets him on the floor. “Be good for Carla?”

“I’m always good for Carla.” Christopher proudly puffs out his chest.

“Of course. How could I forget?” Eddie teases. “I must be remembering a different little boy that got covered in mud while playing and had to be scrubbed clean.”

Chris rolls his eyes. “One time,” he mumbles.

Eddie snorts as he jogs down the staircase, hoping in vain to burn off some of his nervous energy that’s returned. His cloak is nearly arranged when Christopher calls from the upper floor.

“Daddy! Your tie!”

Right. Eddie sighs and makes a final attempt to knot the material together in front of the hall mirror. Miraculously he makes it in one pass this time and turns with a flourish so Christopher can make his assessment.

His son beams down at him with a toothy grin. “Be good for Abuela!”

Eddie responds with an exaggerated bow, drinking in the giggle that floats down. He snaps it up, like something he could keep in his pocket. A protective barrier from whatever he might have to face tonight. With a heavy sense of dread sitting like a stone in his stomach, Eddie waves goodbye and walks outside to the carriage. As he steps up to the plush, velvet, forest green bench, he wishes it felt less like marching to the Tower of London.

“Ready, sir?” His driver asks from the front.

No. “Ready.”

tagged by @malewifediaz @hoodie-buck @daffi-990 @your-catfish-friend thank you loves!

no pressure tagging @disasterbuckdiaz @stereopticons @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz LOML @lizzie-bennetdarcy @vanillahigh00 @rmd-writes @welcometololaland @apothecarose @jesuisici33 @callmenewbie @giddyupbuck @wikiangela @jamespearce9-1-1 @spotsandsocks (she posted a new chapter of shifter fic so go check that out!) @exhuastedpigeon @lemonzestywrites @thewolvesof1998 @steadfastsaturnsrings @weewootruck @loserdiaz @heartshapedvows @underwater-ninja-13 @fortheloveofbuddie @eowon @watchyourbuck @monsterrae1 @elvensorceress @spagheddiediaz @chaosandwolves @wildlife4life @buddierights @911onabc @the-likesofus @spaceprincessem @fionaswhvre @barbiediaz @honestlydarkprincess @pirrusstuff @messyhairdiaz @gayedmundodiaz @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @maygrantgf @statueinthestone @indestructibleheart and anyone else who wants to share 💖

#long snip today #because i crave validation #plus eddie and chris are just the best #buddie wip #fic: come close (let me be home) bridgerton #hippo writes

[postwarlevi]

I have this modern AOT HC that Jean had a guinea pig as a kid and without telling his mom (who had earlier said no) went out and bought his a friend and well, they were opposite sex so.. you can imagine Mrs Kirsteins horror when she comes to clean his room one day and he's been hiding guinea pig babies!

He cries when she makes him give them all away and his friends all take one. Everyone takes good care of them, except Eren who accidently forgot it existed and well 💀.

Carla apologizes to Mrs Kirstein and they decide not to tell Jean, but he tells Connie who spills the beans and Jean is pissed and to this day, that's why Jean still holds a grudge against Eren.

#aot random thoughts #aot #attack on titan #moder au #jean kirstein #eren jaeger #eren yeager #aot hcs #aot headcanons

[courier-nix]

Could you imagine if the King officiated Carla and Boone's wedding??? Idk if it would work out timeline wise but the comic potential would be there

In my fic, my courier, Nix, admits to Boone she has feelings for him and he denies her. She's like "okay, good friends we shall be." Meanwhile, she has a kind of friends with benefits thing with the King. Originally the King thought Boone and her were a thing when they first came to Freeside. So imagine this from the King's perspective with the idea he officiated the wedding:

You officiate Boone and Carla's wedding. Next thing you know after BLANK time, soldier boy comes around with this pink haired chick (Nix) and cleans up the streets. What happened to the wife??? Then Pinkie decides she wants to flirt with you. You already know the soldier is a trained sniper and you dont play with other guys' girls. Next thing you know, she's telling you that they aren't together, he's a widow, and she's obviously hiding feelings for him.

And you're trying to decide whether to tell her or not you officiated her friend's wedding. Meanwhile, Boone is trying his best to act like he doesn't know anyone there.

Pacer would be that bitch to spill the beans and Nix would eat it up.

#pacer fnv #fallout new vegas #fnv #fallout nv #the king fnv #fallout #courier nix #the king #craig boone #carla boone

[lemmetreatya]

HELLO if you are free at the time can you write and eren x reader insta post prt 2? With both of his moms again that was really good if that isn’t to much may I ask if it’s like him spending money on her too ? LOVE YOURE WORKS BTW

Eren’s Insta Spam (Pt.3)

eren x black!fem reader

part 1

part 2

AHH! Yes thank you so much for the request! A part 3 was definitely overdue so thank you for reminding me lool! Hope you enjoy beloved 🫶🏾 Also: BIG UP! TUN UP! to @erenxh for helping me out with a few of the translations for Carla,, you truly an OG 🫰🏾💙 + @quiveringdeer as the honorary tag for these aus

Okay so as we know, Eren has a lot of ‘fans’ who are genuinely really nice to him — but only him — and so whenever he takes you out, he tries to be low-key.

Buuuut it doesn’t mean YOU have to be lowkey and so whenever youre out and about you take pics of him and he occasionally posts these

Liked by ynprivnotpriv, mikamimamii and 74 others

ej__jaeger dump! taken by the one who captures me thru the lens of love xx @ynprivnotpriv

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ynprivnotpriv the caption??? you’re so cheessyyyy 😭😭 luv you thoo 💖💖

grishaj__ 👍🫰

ej__jaeger @ynprivnotpriv only this cheesy for you my love

ej__jaeger @grishaj ❤️❤️

But besides that, Eren loves to take you out and spoil you with stuff. It’s kinda controversial though because look okay, Eren’s not a bum per se, but he also HATES working or doing anything labour wise so it’s really Grisha’s money he’s spending on you 😭😭😭 Like he gets a lil money from sponsors and that but its barely liveable earnings

And although you don’t mind, at times it’s like “Okay, Eren. We need to get you a job.” Because he’s at the checkout but on a phone call with his Dad talking bout “Just send it to me now, I’ll explain when I get home.” And you really dont wanna be spending Mr. Jaeger Sr.’s hard earned surgery money like that shdjdjd but Eren wouldn’t take the initiative to do any of that shit himself so you get Carla and Dina involved

“What about a Barista? You’ve got that cute hipster look to you, they’ll love you there.” You said.

All four of you sat in the living room around your laptop, scrolling on various job searching sites to find Eren an occupation. He however seemed to be the least enthusiastic.

“Noooo. Too many of my fan— People, I know go there. It’ll be too bait.”

“That’s okay!” Carla exclaims. “It means you can give them discounts and talk to your friends while you’re on your shift.”

You stifled a giggle, knowing those weren’t the type of people Eren was talking about but alas, we move.

Annoyingly bouncing a tennis ball onto the ceiling and then catching it, Eren sighed as he ran a hand through his hair and paced around the room.

“Man, I need something that pays good money but small hours and allows me all the flexi shifts I want.”

“öyle iş istiyorsan git de sihirli fasulye ye!” Carla tuts.

The brunette whizzed round in shock.

“You urging me to become a drug dealer?!”

“What?!” You look towards Carla with a gasp.

Shaking her head and hands, the woman tried to clear the allegations her son stuck on her.

“No! I told him to go eat magic beans if he wants a job so easy!” Carla explained but then followed up her words with a taunt in Eren’s direction — a warning not to make her look bad.

“Well, what about Zeke’s place? I’m pretty sure he could get you a nice position over there.”

All of you looked towards Dina who had a rather elated expression on her face. This also seemed to pique Eren’s interest seeing as he stopped pacing and gave Dina an intrigued look.

“Wouldn’t that make me a Nepo baby?” He asked.

With a straight face you narrowed your eyes at your boyfriend.

“Boy, that’s really your concern?” You deadpanned. This seriously couldn’t be the most testing factor of working with Zeke of all people but apparently Dina and Eren were on the same page.

“I don’t think it will.” Dina made a thinking face before bringing up her phone to do a quick search. “I only think it affects you if it’s passed down from a parent and not across from a sibling.”

With a groan, Carla threw her head onto your shoulders, feigning fatigue.

“Oh my goodness, my annecim only wants to be rich. Not a hard working bone in his body — Oh! I’ve failed.”

With a soft laugh, you patted the woman’s head.

“Sorry, Carla. I know you tried your best.”

At the end of the day though, Eren makes sure he always spoils you with nice things and doesnt mind spending maintenance money on you! He’ll always have coin for you regardless and loves when he sees you all dolled up under his appendage

he’s THAT Guy: he’ll wait for you when you get your manicures done and talks smooth with all the workers so he can get discounts and shii dhjddk 😭😭

“Girl, can I just say, your boyfriend is such goals? Like how he so smood with it?”

The nail technician briefly removed her face mask to whisper that to you, eyeing the way he was making easy conversation with the other woman.

With a small laugh, you tapped on side of your Airpod to pause your music so that you could also turn round to observe his antics.

“Yeah, no he treat me real well.”

Turning round back to her, you gave her a knowing look.

“You want me to hook you up with one of his friends?”

“What, they just as good as him?!” She whispered.

“Oh, nobody as good as him but they good.” Giving her a knowing look, you pursed your lips over at the woman.

With a nod and an impressed look back, the techniciane moved back to continue her work on your nails, her mood more excited.

“Okay, okay. I’ll see what you got to offer.”

Liked by dinafritz_off_fitfh, jeankir_jr and 29 others

ej__jaeger she keeps saying her feet are cold but she never wants to wear socks 🤨⁉️ LIKE??? if your lil white manny toes are cold, SOCK EM! 🗣🗣

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sashabear7891 FOR FREE EREN???? FOR FREE???! 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

uchihabapegod put dem dawgs away son 🌭

ej__jaeger @sashabear7891 you always know where to get the prem shit thoooo

ej__jaeger @uchihabapegod okay zeke so now that youve said that explain to me why exactly youre perceiving my girls toes??? 🤨📸

ej__jaeger @jeankirjr_ I am giving you three working minutes to unlike this post.

Liked by arminarletarmin, yummir and 104 others

ej__jaeger ROD 🚀

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mikamikamii THATS A BIG ROCK??

uchihabapegod Marriage?? In this economy???

carlaakarjaeg_34 Eren Text Me Right Now. Please Eren

yummir @ynprivnotpriv lmaooooooo i know you aint sleeping rn bitch come explaaiinn???

conniethe_conman only reason i know you lot are playing us is bc i know eren DOES NAWT have the funds for that and because y/n wouldn’t say yes to an unemployed MAN 😆😆

ej__jaeger @conniethe_conman the way you’re the only one to not fall for it but DAMN???

#eren x reader #eren jeager #eren x black reader #eren yeager #eren jaeger #eren fluff

[hisuianhellion]

So I'm... hmm. A full day, and I've just...

... I don't... I don't wanna go back. I actually just FORGOT to look at Rotomblr 'cause I just... felt genuinely eager to continue being myself and even just. Speaking with my beans...

Adrian, she. She couldn't help but notice that I felt so much nicer to be around. She could tell, so potently, that I was actually... like... happier. More comfortable. And it was contagious. She knew she could trust me by this point, but now she actually wanted to be near me.

It was even better when all my beans just showed so much support. Barry was teasing me, Lucien and Carla both purred up a storm... Julian was Julian, he just wanted to snuggle. I. I cried? I genuinely cried. I couldn't stop myself, actually, it lasted like ten straight minutes.

I... wanna make this permanent. I wanna be a Zoroark. I AM one.

That's... that's the long and short of it.

#pokemon roleplay #pokemon rp #pokemon irl #rotomblr #rotumblr #rosy ramblings

[fungalpieceofshit]

Oh, by the by, don't worry about the beans back home. Sally and Carla can keep things running well enough, and Klaus has been instructed on how to make sure things get served up food-wise. I prepped for this, don'tcha worry! Julian's about the only one I worry over. Keep an eye on him? He might get clingy.

Alrighty. I'm gonna be keeping an eye on things regardless, you know that right? Like just in case.

Also sPEAKING OF JULIAN.

[ID:Mutt, in his usual seat in his apartment... with Julian wrapped around him looking all wet-eyed and concerned. Julian clearly took the photo with some guidance. /ID]

He refuses to let me out of arm's reach.

#muttpost

[chevvsgotanumbrellatattoo]

Sleepless, Stormy Bracelets

Synopsis: you decide to go bother the boys, finding them very sleepy, hyper, and fixated on bracelet making.

Warnings: cuss words, mention of a b!ohazard symbol

Word count: 1,018

♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇♧♤♡◇

HI BEANS!! This is a short little fic-let I came up with about four goofy little vampire boys who definitely still reside in the Cave in Santa Carla :3

I had so much fun writing this, and it made me even happier knowing that I was writing for a new friend (@checkitoutmikey , here u go!)! Also, big shout-out to @fandoms-are-my-friends-1321 for proof reading and to my sib for hyping up my random bits of dialogue I am absolutely head over heels for.

Please bear with me, formatting wise. I have never done this before and I am.. very sleepy. Also, please give credit where credit is due!🥲

Enjoy!

**********************************************

Dreary. Gloomy. Overcast. Drizzly. Any word along this vein would work, but it was not yet storming.

The day had crawled by. By 7 p.m., you couldn't stand it any longer, taking your bike out to the Cave to bother your boys a bit earlier than usual. It was still drizzling. The water on your face was a welcome change to the sweltering sun that usually enveloped Santa Carla. Dodging squirrels and asshole drivers, you made it to the cave, parking and ducking inside.

"Peaches!" Paul tackle-hugged you the minute your feet hit the floor.

"Hi, Pauly." You laughed. "Couldn't sleep?" He shook his head, still squishing the daylights out of you.

"I can never sleep when it's stormin'," he planted a giant kiss on your temple before wandering off to do who knows what.

"Hey, sweetheart." Marko called from his cozy position on the couch. It was easy to see that he was still very tired. You plopped down next to his legs, jostling the smaller vampire.

"Still sleepy?" You cocked your head. He nodded.

"Paul wakes us all up when he's hyper as shit—which just so happened to be at 3 in the afternoon." Marko yawned. "Just another hour would be fantastic."

"I'll see what I can do." You tossed a blanket over the dozing boy, finding Paul looking through an assortment of beads he very clearly pilfered.

"Check it out!" He beamed. "There's a bunch of really sick charms, too!" You looked at the amalgamation of plastic charms; dinosaurs, fruits, hearts, cards, numbers, and more.

"Have you made bracelets before?" You asked. The blond looked offended.

"Duh!" He rolled his eyes before adding sheepishly, "It's just been a while."

"Let's go set up in my corner. We'll make everyone a bracelet." Slight relief washed over you as he took the bait. Did he know you were trying to keep him semi-quiet so the others could sleep? Yes. Yes, he did. Did he care? Not a bit—not as long as he was with you.

It was 9:30 by the time the others 'rolled out of bed.' Yawning and rubbing the sleep from their eyes, the three made their way over to where you and Paul sat surrounded by an arsenal of multi-colored beads and string.

"Thanks for letting us sleep, darling." David pressed a kiss to the top of your head in greeting. You smiled.

"Not a problem." You grabbed your finished gifts. "Lookit—Paul and I made bracelets."

"We can see that." Marko grinned, still waking up. You smacked his arm, laughing.

"What do they look like?" Dwayne asked. You gave them all their respective bracelets, heart warming as their faces lit up.

"Sick! Thanks!" Marko immediately slid his on. The multi-colored beads matched his jacket, no rhyme or reason to the colors—simply put, it looked cool.

"We did all black for you, David. The charm was a last minute decision." Paul said. David smirked at the black and white biohazard symbol, chuckling. The sound sent a small chill up your spine.

"Is this glitter?" He finally asked.

"Shit, I tried not to grab ones with-"

"It's fine." David slid it on, just above his other bracelets, a silent thanks. You shared a look with Paul, both stoked that the hard-headed ring leader liked it.

"Paul, what's this little guy?" Dwayne singled out a bead.

"A rabbit. We couldn't find any jaguars. We chose the blue because it was the closest to gray."

"Then we did the greenish beads to look like grass." You added. Dwayne smiled, sliding it on and adjusting the rabbit to sit on top of his wrist.

"I dig it. Thank you," he said. Paul looked elated, having been very worried about the selection of beads for his brother.

"Paul, do you have one?" Paul showed Marko the bracelet you had made; red and light brown with a guitar charm. Marko grinned.

"What about you?" Dwayne pressed lightly. You stopped. It hadn't occurred to you to make one for yourself.

"I didn't make one." You shrugged. The four stared at you for a moment. You busied yourself with the beads, feeling like they were about to start singing 'Happy Birthday' or something.

Talk about awkward.

"It's alright, really." You insisted, standing. Paul and Marko stood with you, David helping you pick your way around all the beads.

"Why don't you go pick something to listen to?" David's syrupy voice was slick to the touch. You smiled, going off in search of Paul's rock-box and the impressive hoard of cassettes the boys had amassed.

It took 20 minutes to find the damn rock-box, and another 10 to find the box of cassettes. Why the four couldn't keep them both in roughly the same spot was beyond you, but you didn't comment, instead shuffling through the rows and rows of music.

"Hey, what'dyou think? Billy Idol or Metallica?" You called to the strangely silent group. They were still huddled in the corner, voices hushed and giggles arising from Paul and Marko. You rolled your eyes. They think they're slick, you thought, popping in Metallica and reading the inner pamphlet. The guitar scratched just the right spot in the back of your head, making you smile.

"Metallica. Good choice." Marko dropped onto the couch next to you. The other three perched in their varying spots around you, grins on their faces.

"What chaos did you commit now?" You raised a knowing eyebrow. Paul stuck his tongue out at you as David lightly grabbed your wrist, flipping your palm up and setting the bracelet in your hand.

"Your favorite colors," Dwayne smiled at the awe on your face.

"Boys, it's beautiful." You beamed. "'L B?'" David chuckled weakly.

"It's us. Our… moniker, if you will." He explained. It clicked.

"Lost Boys." The word was a breath.

"We have a piece of you to take with us everywhere," Paul showcased his bracelet for effect. "And now you have a piece of us." Tears welled up behind your eyes as you realized just how much thought went into making the bracelet.

"I'll never take it off."

#the lost boys movie #tlb #david #paul #dwayne #marko #bracelet making #dum lil vampire movie makes brain go BRRR #rah #the lost boys #tlb 1987

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Shin Dark [Epilogue]

ー The scene starts in Kino’s manor

Kino: So Shin demanded a meeting with me, huh...? Founders sure think they’re the shit.

Yuuri: ...Will you go? 

Kino: Of course I will. Still...I wonder what he wants to talk about...?

Fufu...Just thinking about it gets me excited...

Yuuri: ーー The location is Kaminashi Tower. He wants you to be there by 11 PM.

Kino: I see...I’ll go by myself then. 

Yuuri: ...! No, I shall come with you.

Kino: No need to worry. 

Carla might be a different story but...You really think I’d lose against someone of his caliber? 

Yuuri: ...I understand.

ー The scene shifts to the emergency stairs of Kaminashi Tower

Shin: ...

ー Kino walks up to him

Kino: Hey, you’re here early. Dying to see me, I guess?

Shin: ...Could you shut that damn mouth of yours?

Kino: Uwah, scary...

*Rustle*

Kino: Hey hey, are you here order me to stop hunting down Demons as a Founder?

Shin: I’m not. It’s just...I want to know why you’re killing them. 

Kino: Eeh? And why do I need to answer that question?

Shin: You must have some kind of reason to take out the Demons in the human world, rather than just focusing solely on the Demon World, no?

Kino: Heeh...I thought you were just a brainless fool, but you’re surprisingly cunning.

Shin: Che...!

( This guy really knows how to piss me off... )

( But If I lose my temper now, I won’t be able to get any information out of him. That’d be badーー )

*Rustle* 

Shin: ...So? Tell me your reasoning.

Kino: Let me thinkー ... I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough, so might as well spill the beans now.

The hunting down of Demons in the human world...Was an order from the Church.

Shin: ...!

Kino: They aren’t too happy with the fact that many Demons are living here.

Shin: Haha, I see...?

So that’s how you’ve been murdering Demons here in the human world...Until you’ll be the only one left.

Kino: Ahaha...Exactly.

The Ghouls who work for me are being forced to live under many restrictions at Rotigenberg. 

For them to be freed from all those prejudices...The human world is utmost ideal.

Wouldn’t you agree with me?

Shin: ...

...But you never mentioned anything about that when you showed yourself before us, did you?

Kino: Back then, I still believed that we’d just have to make it work in the Demon World. 

I talked to the Church afterwards...and that’s how we got here. 

Shin: ...Smells fishy.

Kino: How rude...I’m just genuinely trying my hardest for them...

Shin: ーー Oh well, whatever. I got the answer I was looking for. See you.

ー Shin walks away

Kino: ...That’s all you want?

Shin: What?

Kino: You’re only going to do what your dear brother asked of you?

Shouldn’t you...try to use your own brains to try and come up with the optimal strategy? 

Shin: ...Do you want to make me mad? 

Kino: Oh come on, don’t get your panties in a knot. I’m obviously just joking. 

I do have an offer for you though. ーー Won’t don’t we work together?

Shin: Haah...?

Kino: We wouldn’t mind helping you two out. But in returnーー

You need to promise that you’ll stay clear of the human world as soon as the Demon World falls into your hands. ...What do you think of that condition? 

Shin: Don’t be ridiculous. Fouders like us don’t join forces with other species. 

Kino: Ahaha, you didn’t even consider it! ...But I’d kind of like to ask the Founder King for his opinion first.

Shin: You guys don’t gain anything from joining forces with us, do you?

I’m sure you’re aware that there are very little of our kind left?

Kino: Of course. But the immense powers you possess are very appealing to me. 

Besides...Wouldn’t you agree that we’d get even less out of a pact with any of the other clans?

Shin: ...Anyway, I’ve heard enough. I’m heading back. 

ー Shin leaves

Shin: ( Stupid guy actually making sense... )

I better report back to Nii-san once I’m back. 

ー The scene shifts to the living room of the Sakamaki manor

Yui: ( It might be strange to rely on them after everything that happened but... )

( I just couldn’t sit still, so I ended up coming here... )

Ayato: Heeh...Now this is a visitor we don’t get every day!

Laito: Bitch-chan...Did you miss me, perhaps~?

Reiji: What are you here for?

Yui: Reiji-san...I do realize that it is rather shameless of me to ask for this but...

Do you happen to know anything about Endzeit? I’d like you to tell me.

Reiji: That is a shameless question, indeed.

Yui: ( Uu...I knew it... )

Reiji: ...Well, I suppose it is fine. Actually, there happens to be something on my mind as wellーー

I was going through the documents at Father’s research facility the other day. And then...This popped up. 

*Rustle rustle*

Yui: A study...?

Reiji: Yes. It is on Endzeit.

*Flip*

Yui: ( I-I can’t read it at all...I wonder what language this is? )

Reiji: Don’t tell me you can’t read it? 

Yui: ( He’s looking at me coldly... )

Reiji: I suppose it cannot be helped. ...Hand it to me. 

*Rustle*

*Flip*

Monologue

To start things off,

Reiji-san told me,

what kind of disease Endzeit is. 

Once infected within this disease,

and within one month after its outbreak,

bruise-like marks start to appear,

all over one’s bodyーー

Then shortly after,

one will start experiencing symptoms,

similar to tuberculosis amongst humans.

It is an incredibly terrifying disease,

eventually leaving the body in a state of necrosis,

to the point of leaving one unable to move...

Furthermore ーー Endzeit is an illness,

which only Founders can contract. 

Apparently the logic behind their infection,

has to do with the consistency of one’s blood,

or something along those lines...

Not even Karlheinz-san’s study,

could give a detailled explanation of this.

Yui: ...Thank you very much.

( Carla-san will eventually develop necrosis... )

( What should we do? )

...Reiji-san. May I perhaps...borrow this book for a while?

Reiji: I do not mind. ...Howeverーー

...Would you perhaps consider returning to this manor?

Yui: Eh...?

Reiji: You see, Subaru has been awfully emotional unstable as of late...

It appears to be difficult for him to control his own powers.

I figured that if you were to be here with him, this might improve somewhatーー

Yui: ( Subaru-kun...I see... )

( But I can’t leave Shin-kun’s side right now. )

...I’m sorry.

Reiji: Well, I figured you’d say that.

...Feel free to come here whenever you change your mind. We will welcome you with open arms.

Yui: Thank you for everything you’ve done for me so far. ...Now if you’d excuse me.

ー The scene shifts to the hallway

Yui: ( Still...I can’t believe Reiji-san would ask such a thing. )

( Subaru-kun must be having a really hard time... )

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #shin tsukinami #lost eden #diabolik lovers translation #leshindarkepilog

[daffi-990]

Seven(ish) Sentence Sunday

Tagged by the incredibly talented @thewolvesof1998 ❤️

Had some writing beans this morning and managed to pump out something before my kids tracked me down 😅.

This snippet is from I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you (I can never look away) which is the second fic from the Daylight series and from Eddie’s POV. I actually really like this snippet and hopefully you all do too 🥺

A laugh bubbles out of him, one of pure joy at seeing his kid so excited. It’s like Christmas morning but without the small feeling of loss that still lingers for the both of them.

God, Shannon would’ve been asking Buck for guitar lessons too. She loved learning new things, signing up for as many clubs as possible in high school. Granted she wasn’t very good at a lot of the new hobbies she took up, but that didn’t stop her entusiasmn. Eddie fondly remembers the time she convinced him to sign up for dance lessons with her. It hadn’t taken much to convince him to be honest, the promise of holding her in his arms as they laughed and stepped on each other’s feet was more than enough.

It’s been six years since they lost her and most of the time they’re okay. They weren’t for a while, both of them feeling so lost and adrift without her in their lives. But Hartlan had helped heal them, the people here soon becoming his support system, his family. Bobby with his shared history of loss, Athena with her open arms and open heart, the Wilson’s with their wine nights, Chim with his loyalty and quick wit and Carla with her bright smile and warm hugs.

Looking at the way Christopher now has his arms wrapped around Buck in a hug, maybe Buck will become a part of that system too. Maybe Eddie and Chris could be the first people Buck adds to his own.

No pressure tagging: @fortheloveofbuddie @watchyourbuck @jamespearce9-1-1 @exhuastedpigeon @callmenewbie @devirnis @hippolotamus @hoodie-buck @wikiangela @eddiebabygirldiaz @spotsandsocks @spagheddiediaz @malewifediaz @monsterrae1 @athenagranted @shitouttabuck @steadfastsaturnsrings @rainbow-nerdss @the-likesofus @try-set-me-on-fire @giddyupbuck @fiona-fififi @disasterbuckdiaz @captain-hen @lover-of-mine @loserdiaz @honestlydarkprincess @ladydorian05 @homerforsure @rewritetheending @wildlife4life @jesuisici33 @jeeyuns @nmcggg and as always, anyone else who wants to share something 💕

#fic: I don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you (I can never look away) #daffi writes #buddie wip #daylight series #buddie #oh and happy new years eve 🤩

[midnight-glasses]

This is a short post made to honor one of my favorite characters from Diabolik Lovers, there aren't many headcanons about it like in my previous post, but I hope who are reading this enjoy it~

POSSIBLE TRIGGERS:

Sibling rivalry (can this be considered a trigger?);

consumption of legal drugs;

Shin doesn't like to make a big deal out of his birthday, but his brother Carla insists on throwing him a grand celebration every year.

The Sakamaki brothers and Mukami are invited, but Shin doesn't seem too pleased about it, but he accepts it anyway.

Shin requests that all of the desserts at his birthday party include some kind of nuts, such as walnuts, almonds, or hazelnuts.

Shin may use his birthday as an opportunity to assert his dominance over others. He may demand that his subordinates or family members attend a lavish birthday party, where he can revel in their adoration and obedience.

Despite his protests, Shin secretly enjoys the attention and extravagance of his birthday party.

If Shin chooses to have a birthday party, he asks that his brother Carla attend the party, both as a sign of respect and as a subtle reminder of their ongoing rivalry.

Carla always makes sure to give his brother a special birthday present, despite their complicated relationship.

Shin enjoys receiving gifts from his loved ones, but he rarely asks for anything specific.

His familiars often surprise him with small gifts and gestures, like organizing a special training session just for him.

Shin enjoys indulging in his favorite foods and drinks on his birthday, allowing himself to relax and enjoy the festivities.

Ayato accidentally broke an expensive piece of artwork, causing Shin to become furious and demand that Ayato leave the party.

As a way of redeeming himself, Ayato was forced to clean up his mess after getting into a physical conflict with Carla and losing the fight he started himself.

His familiars planned a surprise for him, but they are terrible at keeping secrets and end up spilling the beans to Shin by accident.

One of Shin's familiars creates a prank gift for him, which ends up exploding confetti all over him when he opens it.

Kou and Laito teamed up to cause chaos at the party, and ended up spiking the Carla's drink with vampire cider.

Shin's brother, Carla, who is usually very serious and reserved, gets drunk and starts telling embarrassing childhood stories about Shin to everyone.

Shin tried to get rid of his brother, but it didn't work. Laito and Kou kept asking Carla a lot of questions about Shin, hoping he would say something embarrassing.

Carla tells a shameful story of Shin's childhood and this generates some funny situations.

Kanato is known for his love of creepy dolls, so he may have given Shin a custom-made doll that resembled him Shin. It may have been beautifully crafted, but also had an eerie quality to it that made others uncomfortable.

While Kanato wasn't looking Shin discarded the doll.

Reiji is the most practical and organized of the Sakamaki brothers, so he may have given Shin a gift that would help him stay organized or improve his appearance. For example, he may have given Shin a new leather-bound planner or a set of high-quality grooming products.

Shin is offended by Reiji's gift because he thinks the vampire is discreetly implying that he is somehow slovenly, but in the end he really likes the gift when he tests it the other day.

Azusa gifted Shin with spicy nut candies, which resulted in something quite funny when Shin tried one of the candies.

Kou gave Shin a glass eye as an alternative to his eye patch, because particularly for Kou, the idea of wearing glasses over an eye patch makes no sense at all.

Laito brought a stripper to the party as a “gift”, causing Shin to feel uncomfortable and embarrassed,

That wasn't Laito's real gift, later that day Shin found a box of nutty sweets under his pillow, next to this box, there was a note talking about what happened with an ironic tone.

Shuu has given Shin a gift that reflects his own love of relaxation and sleep: luxurious silk pajamas and a high-quality comfortable pillow.

Ruki presents a custom-made leather-bound journal with Shin's initials carved on the cover, filled with blank pages for Shin to document his thoughts, basically a diary.

Yuma presents Shin with a walnut sapling, he controls himself a lot not to show enthusiasm, but his tail wiggles so much that everyone can see his happiness.

As a gift, Yui brings Shin a basket of assorted nuts from around the world. Shin excitedly samples each one and declares his favorites.

Subaru bring a gift for Shin, but it may not be wrapped nicely or thoughtfully.

He keep a close eye on his brothers to ensure they don't cause any trouble.

Subaru refuse to participate in any party games or activities and make plans to leave as soon as possible.

As the night wears on, Shin and some of the other guests start a friendly competition to see who can crack open the most nuts using only their bare hands.

Shin's birthday cake is a rich chocolate cake with layers of hazelnut buttercream and chopped hazelnuts on top:

One of the party games involves a “nut hunt” in which the guests have to search for hidden nuts around the mansion. Shin is especially good at this game due to his love of nuts and his keen sense of smell.

Despite his initial reluctance to even have a birthday party, Shin found himself enjoying the attention and gifts from his family and friends.

Shin is secretly pleased that everyone went along with his preferred theme and that they seemed to enjoy themselves as well.

Overall, Shin is left feeling satisfied but also a little restless, as if he's waiting for something else to happen.

When Shin woke up the next day after the party, he found Carla sleeping next to Shuu, who had slept in random corners of the Tsukinami mansion for most of the party.

Apparently, Carla was so drunk that he didn't care or didn't notice Shuu sleeping there.

This was a little idea I had to celebrate the birthday of this character so loved by me! Also, some things may not make sense because I made this post in a hurry, anyway I hope you enjoyed it~

If you want to request some headcanon my ask box is always open!

Source.

All my written content is original, however, I do not claim ownership of the characters depicted. ©2023-Present.

#midnightglasses #diabolik lovers #diahell #diabolik lovers headcanons #midnightglasses headcanons #headcacon #diabolik lovers shin #shin headcanons #shin tsukinami headcanons #tsukinami shin #shin tsukinami