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randombush3 · 6 months

Text

labor omnia vincit

alexia putellas x reader

words: 7538

summary: well, it’s how you meet your wife (posh + becks style)

content warnings: a little bit of drugs and alcohol

notes: HEY HEY HEYY. this is a TRILOGY and here’s the first part. enjoy the build up x

2015. London.

You groan at the thought of singing another word. The mug set haphazardly on the ledge reserved more for instruments than crockery, half in the air after the last time you returned it to its place, is now empty. There is no hot water left to soothe your burning throat, and there is no patience remaining in your finite store.

The girls, on the other hand, seem to soldier on. A harmony is incorrect? They sing it again. The producer, a fat old man called Dave whose taste in music might rely on his taste in women, isn’t a fan of a certain beat? They are thinking of ways to change it.

Ever since your single was released two years ago, this has been your life. Or, at least, the less glamorous side of it. The other side, consisting of sold-out arenas, exclusive clubs, and a world tour that only increased your total domination over the music industry, has been paused while you and the girls slave away on the second album. Apparently, you’re being uncooperative. You would call it boredom.

“It’s four in the morning, Dave,” Anya states, jabbing out her index finger towards his Rolex, paid for with the revenue from the last single you released. It topped the charts for days. Dave glances down at the clock face with a grunt. “Look, Y/n’s already left us and gone to bed.”

“Still here,” you murmur, rather unconvincingly, from your spot on the far-too-comfortable sofa behind the mixing desk. Sprawling out even further, you wrap your legs around the third member of your group, Gio. She squeals as you pull her on top of you. “I want to go home, though.”

“Don’t we all know it,” Gio giggles. She’s had at least six cups of coffee since you arrived at the studio for the second recording session of the day – a solid nine hours ago. That was only after a break for a late lunch or early dinner (whichever your dietician preferred to call it).

“We need to finish.”

“I need to sleep,” you reply. Gio scrambles off you in time to avoid the glare you are sent by your producer. “And I’m not sleeping here again. Last time it gave me a crick in my neck and I’m fairly sure the cleaner felt me up.”

“The sexy cleaner is mine,” Anya declares, jerking you upright. Your stomach lurches with emptiness. “Otherwise, I agree. Let us fuck off home. Please, Dave.”

He looks at the three of you, bags under your eyes, making long rubbed off (or cried away, in Gio’s earlier over-emotional state). You have changed out of the outfit the paparazzi pictured you in earlier, opting for the stained, grey joggers you folded away in your Birkin. Anya and Gio snuck in so that they weren’t caught in their pyjamas.

Dave sighs.

“Tomorrow, don’t go for lunch with any of your silly boyfriends. Come here for noon, and we’ll finish when we finish. We’re getting this album done, and you can’t fire me until it’s out.”

His sense of humour is appreciated, even if his work ethic is not, and you practically bolt out of the studio, friends in tow.

Anya grabs your hand as you rush down the corridor, making your way to the exit. “No lunch with your boyfriend,” she repeats Dave’s words, mocking his gristly voice. You roll your eyes, snatching your hand away from your friend before pushing open the back door of the studio, heading towards your new BMW i8.

You have been friends with Anya Kazi and Giovanna Bartoli since the age of two, meeting them on the first day of nursery, specifically after cutting one of Gio’s ringlets off with safety scissors. Though Anya happily clapped along, she did not defend you, and so you went for her hair as well. Your teacher, hoping to quell the budding animosity, placed all three of you in time-out, where a united front was formed. It hasn’t been broken since that moment, though a few years ago, you were terrified it would be. You, with a well-concealed preference for women, however, have managed to keep your friends. They assured you that they 1) already knew and 2) could not care less.

“You don’t even like cars,” Gio scoffs at the sight of your latest purchase, your last name printed proudly on the number plate. “Was this an ‘I’m famous’ buy or did your daddy get it for you?”

“He emailed me a few recommendations,” you answer off-handedly, sliding into the driver’s seat, switching on the ignition. It growls with a mean, menacing precision, the engine’s quality known and heard. “And don’t pretend that your family doesn’t have a Roll-Royce parked in the driveway of their million-pound townhouse.”

“You are just as much from Hampstead as I am, girl.”

You roll your eyes, stifling a yawn. Anya pulls out in front of you, no doubt speeding off to avoid the boy-racers you and Gio become at this time of night.

Your flat has progressed from that of the one you shared with the girls in Princess Park two years ago. It’s nicely decorated, you like to think, with most of the work being done to it while you were touring.

The walls are hung with artwork; some your own, some not. The canvases and frames adorn every room, dictating the vibe, declaring your individuality to any visitors who choose to admire the paintings and sketches. Then, if they were to look at the shelves dotted around the space, they’d see books with matching themes to the art. Your living room has a print of Van Gogh’s ‘Starry Night’, blown up in a gilded frame, hanging above your green leather sofa, adding colour to the white walls, and then a bookshelf filled with navy-bound novels about whatever you fancy. You’re quite chuffed with the design, though it was really the interior designer you hired who came up with the idea.

Without a second glance to any of the intricate details of your home, you stumble your way to the bathroom, going through the motions until it is time to get into bed. It’s a big bed – one that often feels too big for just one person – but the mattress is inviting and you dive into a deep sleep head-first, knowing you will not be getting up until someone calls you tomorrow morning.

…

Barcelona, seven hours earlier.

The bar is busy, as most are in Barcelona at this time of night, and the girls are out for dinner and a post-training drink. The wine glasses have deceived them all, though, because they have been emptied and refilled a few more times than Xavi would be impressed with.

A young, budding star does not drink during the season, the alcohol drought both self-inflicted and encouraged by every coach who promises to take her far. Her eyeliner must be smudged by now, but Alexia can’t leave yet because Jenni has promised that she can stay over at her place and she needs her to take her back.

The reason for her temporary relocation is that Alexia is fed-up with her mother’s pestering, seeing as it is only one week into the season and she is already being called a workaholic. She can’t stay in that house tonight, especially when her little sister is the complete opposite: sleeping with anyone who gives her a chance and never doing anything that will help her future. Eli Segura is baffled by the lack of balance in her life – two daughters, two extremes – but she is the most concerned with her eldest, angering Alexia to no end.

Alexia is also fed-up with this conversation. It’s all the girls seem to be talking about these days, utterly consumed with this new English girl group just like the rest of the world. 2sday has completely taken over all interesting topics of discussion, and Alexia doesn’t think she can handle being asked which one of their songs she likes the most one more time.

She likes them, she guesses, but so does everyone. Todo el mundo is in love with all three members.

The girls are discussing who their favourite is.

“She’s Italian though, and that’s cool of her,” Jenni argues, putting forward her case for Bartoli as if she chose to have parents from a certain country. Alexia hums in thought, thinking of the pictures she saw from the world tour – how long her legs are, tanned and sculpted and shown off nicely by the mini-skirt she wore. “Did you know that her little sister is a model? She’s called Cristina or something. The beauty is practically in her DNA.”

“Aren’t all three of them models?” asks Marta pointedly, finger tapping the photoshoot on the magazine cover.

“Well, all three of them are sexy,” Jenni replies, remembering just how enamoured the world is with the three break-out stars. “Ale, which one is your favourite?” The magazine that had sparked this conversation is slid towards the twenty-one-year-old, and she looks at the picture on the front page: you, Gio, and Anya, all dressed in oversized suits with nothing underneath, hair slicked back and eyes piercing, ‘girl power’ brandished over the bottom of the photograph.

“Y/n L/n,” Alexia answers easily, fascinated by the sculpture of your face. She thinks you are beautiful, in a less crass way than her teammates. “And you lot sound like men with the way you talk about them.”

“Ooh, Alexia is getting all high-and-mighty,” Jenni teases. “Looks like it’s time to take the baby home.”

“She’s cranky because she’s tired and it’s past her bedtime,” adds another teammate, though Alexia is too wound up to really care who.

They all make little pouty faces at her as she finishes the last of her glass of water, the clear liquid standing out against the deep red of most of the table. Jenni rolls up the magazine and swats her shoulder with it, before handing it over to its owner and finally allowing Alexia her rest.

In silence, they sit in her car – an old Ford in need of replacing but not on the footballer’s list of things she will buy with the money they are now getting. FC Barcelona Femení has become, at last, a fully professional team, and Alexia looks ahead to the future with a hopeful dream and the knowledge that she will need to work hard if she ever wishes to become the best. Jenni has become a good friend ever since she joined the club last year, and she brings a global ambition to the friendship that she knows Alexia does not have. Jenni is from Madrid, and plays for Barcelona because she can, not because it is her club. Her team is the same as her grandfather’s, and she often expresses to Alexia her wish to play for them someday, as well as scoring in every league she possibly can. Young Alexia Putellas has never once considered stepping foot outside of Spain.

Not only that, but her father died three years ago and here, in Barcelona, is where she feels closest to him. She cannot fathom a life past the plazas and the cobbled streets of her home. And she’s glad. She’s safe here, and she needs nothing more than her team, her family, and a football at her feet. What more could she possibly want?

As she settles on Jenni’s sofa, blanket pulled over her body, head resting on a plump cushion that smells faintly of Jenni’s dog, Alexia decides to watch whatever is on TV right now. Jenni, in an attempt to learn English, has found an English news channel that seemingly reports on ‘exclusive’ celebrity news. There you are, plastered on the screen, your picture zoomed in to the point of the pixels blurring.

The woman speaking has a high-pitched and critical voice, saying words that Alexia does not hear. She stares at your picture, considering the life you have, imagining that, one day, footballers like her have the stardom of Beckham and Messi and Ibrahimovic. Though she herself does not crave that exposure, well aware of her shyness, she thinks about the future with a wistful sigh, lost in her dream as the English woman narrates what she can see, judging how you have opened your mouth to take a bite of the food, listing the brands you are wearing.

And, in her weird, exhausted haze, she sees your face. It’s probably only because you’re on the screen and she’s staring at it, but you are there as she pictures the growth of women’s football. You’re there in the stands as she plays in front of a sold-out Camp Nou, cheering and singing along to Catalan chants she knows you’d never actually know in real life. Slowly, she falls asleep, and, just before she closes her eyes, you are there: back to her, dressed in a familiar shirt. Alexia. 11. Somewhere in a far-off fantasy land, Alexia Putellas marries you that night.

…

It’s Sunday.

You drive to your parents’ house in Hampstead, only twenty minutes away from the flat you now live in, to reluctantly attend their weekly Sunday Roast. Before, it was a condition of remaining on the booking list for the annual family holiday, seeing as you had declared university was going to wait until after your gap year and then had become a popstar instead. Now that both you and your brother can afford to come anyway, the tradition is there for sentimental value. A world tour made you realise how much you love them all, even your annoying older brother.

Your parents are lawyers who met at university and found love in a city that they never moved out of, both of them doing extremely well for themselves. They raised you and your brother to ski, horse-ride, and attend prep schools and public schools, although boarding school was not quite desirable. Your dad speaks in a booming voice, received pronunciation an act used for court, slight Mancunian accent lilting his words whenever he relaxes.

“Darling!” your mum exclaims, surprised at your attendance just like she is every week. “Come on in, come on in. Daddy has the footie on, and your brother is on his way. Don’t you have songs to sing? How come you’re here?”

Ushered inside your own home, you smell the brief scent of your family before adjusting to it all and fitting right back into the chaos. There’s beef in the oven, and the roar of the crowd playing faintly from the kitchen where your dad must be preparing the potatoes. He’s proud of his potatoes.

You slip off your shoes – a new pair of Uggs – and follow your mother to the kitchen. Dad is there, doing exactly what you’d expected, hands working instinctively as his eyes focus on the TV, mouthing along with the commentary as Manchester United take on their opponent. “Sit down,” Dad says as soon as you walk in, pointing at the stools tucked into the island. “We’re not doing too badly, and today should be an easy win.”

“I know. I do watch the football without you, Daddy.”

He tuts. “Yeah, but you don’t get the same level of commentary on your own. Plus, United isn’t even what I wanted to talk to you about. I have thought of a publicity move that you should definitely make – it would really help you guys out.” You entertain his suggestion, knowing that’s what dads do, sitting back on the stool with a smirk on your face, already thinking of an interesting way to tell him he is being stupid. “So, what I was thinking was that you guys do a half-time show! You love football, and the girls love footballers – what isn’t to like? Plus, I bet any club would jump at the chance to make some money from extra tickets sold just to see you.”

“And you haven’t already contacted our manager?” you check, finding your father to be quite unpredictable and rash. His ego is also far too inflated by clients who don’t see him for the kind but bumbling fool he truly is, and so he often takes it upon himself to put forward any ideas he has to your management team, much to everyone’s inconvenience (the last thing they need, amongst sorting out photos of you snogging girls and your friends in various compromising positions, is an old man telling them what he thinks will boost your image). “It’s a good idea, I must admit. I’ll bring it up.”

“Good stuff.” There’s a clang of metal as the potatoes go in the oven too, and the fridge opens with a pop as your dad begins to fish out the carrots and parsnips to complete your meal, Your mother is responsible for everything else. “Try to get it at Barcelona or Real Madrid,” he says off-handedly. “Imagine singing in the Nou Camp. That’d be crazy.”

“Not the appearance I dreamt of when I was little, but I’d still get to touch the grass,” you agree.

“Y/n, we knew you’d never be a footballer. You haven’t got the coordination for that.” They tried to support you, they really did, but then music lessons took over and the sport became a form of entertainment, not exercise. “Women’s football is really something, though. In twenty years, it’ll be good. Maybe you should invest.”

“I know zero women’s footballers, apart from – what’s her name? Kelly Smith. The English one?”

“The Arsenal player, yeah. It’s a shame we don’t have a proper women’s team.”

“Should I fund one?” you joke, but his face lights up and he has taken you seriously. “Okay, I know we’ve been successful thus far, but we haven’t raked in that much. Who knows! It could all go to shit and I could end up right where I started, in my childhood bedroom with no degree and no choice but to mooch off my parents.”

“I get the sense that you’re slightly stressed about this album,” Dad says slowly, smiling wide, proud to have worked you out. He has always been good at that; knowing what you are feeling. It is a wonderful trait for him to have, seeing as your mother struggles with emotional connection of any kind. She is too much of a corporate big-shot for that, anyway.

“It’s killing me.” You sigh, slumping on the stool. “It’ll be released and then we’ll hop on tour and I’m so tired. Anya has a crush and Gio’s dating someone and now all of our songs are about love and I just… I don’t know about that. I don’t know if I will ever know about that.”

And, though he hesitates, Dad walks around the island and places a hand on your shoulder, telling you that you will find the right man someday.

Deep down, he knows that the daughter who loved to watch football and never once commented on their hairstyles or pretty faces – the girl whose crushes on members of boy bands always seemed half-hearted and forced – is not a daughter who is going to bring home a man one day, with a smile on her face and a ring on her finger. He knows. It is quite possible that he has always known. Whether he is going to bring it up before you feel comfortable to talk about it is a different matter, especially since your mother has dreams of her daughter’s husband that she has whispered to him ever since they found out their second child was a girl.

Sunday is pretty routine, which you are grateful for. Your brother, also a lawyer, discusses his latest case, resembling the stories your father used to tell at the dining table: stories you’d both yawn at when you were younger. You dish out a few industry secrets, recounting your most recent trip to Cirque Le Soir. With disdain, your mother berates you for any possible drug-usage, scolding you for something you have not admitted to but somehow knowing that you are guilty of it anyway. It feels much like the family dinners of your teenage years, but you suppose that pop stars never really have to grow up and decide that it isn’t all bad. After all, you drive home in a very stylish car.

Then, the week starts with another gruelling, waste-of-time day at the studio, where you go inside before the sun comes up and emerge long after it has set. Dave is decently pleased with the vocals so far. There are another seven tracks to go, but most of those are being written by other people. Mark Ronson, you’ve heard, is open to working with your group. It’s all very exciting, even if you feel like you have run a marathon by the end of the day.

On Tuesday, you remember to tell your manager and publicist (she’s a woman of many talents) about your father’s idea. At first, her reluctance is extremely evident, but it later dissipates once she thinks about it, having promised you and the now-excited girls to see what she can do.

You are on a private plane to Barcelona before you can realise what is happening.

Bags packed with more make-up and spangled underwear than proper clothes, and sunglasses shielding your hungover eyes courtesy of last night’s consoling of a newly-single Giovanna Bartoli, you try your best not to vomit while in the air and even squeeze in a spot of light reading. The girls laugh (wincing at the sound) when they see you revisiting the Aeneid. You like Virgil, though, so you don’t mind.

“How many days are we here again?” Anya asks, equally hungover.

“Three,” replies your manager, not bothering to look up from her laptop. “Today, tomorrow, and the day after. Please check if the players are married before you do anything with them.”

“I’ve sworn off men,” mumbles Gio miserably. She stretches her legs out with a sniffle, and then draws them back in to protect her broken heart. “If I’d get off with any woman, I’d like her to be Spanish.” She clears her throat, the lump of tears disappearing as she retrieves her GCSE-level Español, giving it a shot. If not to be serious than to at least piss you off. “Hola. ¿Cómo estás? ¿Quieres dormir conmigo?”

“What? And then you’re going to shove your tongue down her throat?” Gio looks at you with a smirk. “That is not how you kiss a woman.”

“Hey, you can’t keep them all to yourself!”

You laugh, though your manager’s attention has been caught and she is already showing her disapproval. “It would be better that I did if that’s how you think it works.”

“None of you are kissing women.”

“That’s not fair,” Anya protests, upset that she didn’t even get to join in the conversation before it got shut down as swiftly as a rowdy houseparty in an American teen-movie.

“I agree. That’s not fair on Y/n, who actually needs to kiss a woman so her knickers aren’t in a twist all the time.”

“I’ll twist your knickers in a minute,” you threaten, fist raised to Gio in good humour.

“See what I mean? She needs to let off some steam.”

“Well, do it discreetly if you must. Do your shows, go out with the players, and bring whoever into your bed as long as they have tight lips and no vendetta against you. Gio, we’re going to have to say something about him ch–”

You gulp, not wanting your friend to cry again. “Wow, the view is really nice,” you interrupt, catching Anya’s appreciative nod in the corner of your eye as you splay your palm on the glass of the aircraft’s window, marvelling at Barcelona’s plazas and cobbled streets. Imagine this being your home, you think to yourself.

…

Jenni is squawking when Alexia makes her way into the circle of players during their drinks break. Alexia knows her friend is excited to go to the men’s game later on today, but she hadn’t realised it is to this extent until she gets grabbed by the forward and shaken as though she is a snowglobe.

“I got the golden ticket,” Jenni shouts in her ear, making their teammates around them laugh. “Me, you, and Mario are going to the match tonight!”

“I already knew that?” They don’t really get free tickets, but they can be heavily discounted. Tonight isn’t a super big deal, though Alexia may stand corrected. “Was I not supposed to know that?”

“Of course she doesn’t know,” Mariona says, squirting some of her water at the midfielder. She recoils from the droplets, but they land on her training top anyway, and Alexia is already pissed off with the entire world. “Alexia, do you seriously live under a football-shaped rock?”

Alexia takes a moment to brush off the teasing, picturing the bursting trophy cabinet that is almost within her grasp. “Yes, and it is very homely.”

“Madre mía, you are one of a kind,” Jenni says with a sigh, movements less aggressive as she drapes an arm around Alexia’s shoulders. “Guess who’s singing at half-time tonight. You’re going to drool so much that the people below us will think it’s raining.”

At this, Alexia knows exactly who Jenni is talking about, and she blushes though it could easily be mistaken for redness from exercising.

“I just think she’s pretty,” comes Alexia’s slightly defensive reply. They walk to the middle of the training pitch, rejoining the team as Xavi explains a confusing drill. Neither really listen.

“Is this your first celebrity crush?” Mariona jibes, overhearing the conversation and finding it necessary to join in. Any excuse to poke fun at the baby of the team.

Jenni ruffles Alexia’s hair, ruining her neat ponytail. “Alexia’s in love with a straight girl,” she sings.

It’s then that the whole team chooses to get involved, ears perking up at the mention of Alexia’s lovelife – a more or less forbidden topic. Their captain, Marta Unzué, even chimes in with a ‘we’ve all been there’. Like a stroppy teenager, Alexia folds her arms over her chest and turns to focus entirely on football, something that she knows she loves and loves her back. They leave her alone for the rest of the training session.

She even manages to forget about what comes after the first forty-five minutes of the match, sitting comfortably in a stadium that is her version of heaven.

You, on the other hand, cannot distance yourself from the nerves of performing in no less than ten minutes.

The players were nice when you accompanied Anya to speak to them, and they spent a good while fumbling their way through English to invite you all to join them tonight at Pacha. You took photos with Messi and Neymar to show your father.

The outfit, if you can call it that, is tight and could possibly show your entire bum to eight-five thousand Culers tonight if you’re not careful. Silver eyeshadow glistens in the mirror when you peer at your reflection, inspecting the bejewelled bralette and tiny shorts you are wearing.

Anya and Gio, who both look dazzling in their own silver combinations, tell you that it is time to get your microphones sorted. When you stand in the tunnel, ready to go out, you see that they have laid out a sheet on top of the grass so your heels don’t ruin it. Part of you wishes that you were in a football strip and boots. The music starts before you can get too reminiscent.

You sing with the same adrenaline you always get, and the crowd becomes a blur in your mind as you lose yourself to the melody. The bass hits your heart just like the lyrics do – especially since this song was written by Anya about her last boyfriend – and you hold back tears as the choreography leads your limbs in an energetic dance that must be entertaining to watch.

When it finishes, and your chest is rising and falling quickly as you try to catch your breath, Alexia thinks you almost catch her gaping at you. Your eyes seem to be scanning the stands. Maybe you see her.

Maybe that is why you, in your big, black hoodie and paparazzi-proof baseball cap are sitting in the stands of Estadi Johan Cruyff the very next day.

Alexia does not point you out to her teammates. You make it clear to all who recognise you that you are trying to be incognito, and either the fans at the stadium have no knowledge of popular culture, or they are granting you your privacy.

She is now the entertainer, shining under the spotlight of the bright sun, a ball at her feet like that is where all balls were made to be. And you watch carefully – she can feel it – but you do not stay long enough for her to even think about approaching you.

…

2016. Somewhere in the sky between LA and New York.

This time round, the tour has confirmed your hatred for all plane journeys, hotels, and sold-out concerts.

You’re dead on the inside, numb to the glitter and sparkles of your life, and your eyes are always halfway to being sealed shut in the deepest slumber humanly possible.

There are a few things that ease the disdain you have for your career, but none of those compare to the channel you have found that streams Barcelona Femení’s football matches. Your excuse, made to no one other than yourself, is that Manchester United has no women’s team. Of course you’d watch them instead, if you could.

“This is peak lesbianism,” Gio comments, her fifth time saying the exact same thing, prodding a napping Anya to alert her to your boredom-killer on the flight. You’re glad these planes have wi-fi. “We’re in America, which has all the women’s football in the world, and you still choose to watch your crappy little stream on your cracked iPad.”

“If you hadn’t decided to jump out at me, the screen would be just fine,” you grumble, transfixed on the way Alexia Putellas dribbles with the ball, turning and passing to Jennifer Hermoso who slots the ball right into the bottom-right corner of the net. The pitch looks damaged, and you really have researched how you can help out the sport, but it is hard to dispute anything the girls say about your crush on an unknown squad member when everyone knows you could get your football fix from the Premier League.

You’re yet to tell anyone that you have just bought this season’s Barcelona shirt. You’re not sure if you’d be invited on the family ski trip if your father were to find out.

“Sorry, sorry,” replies Gio, hands raised in the air, a gesture of surrender. In hindsight, your response was clipped. “Didn’t mean to distract you from such an important task. When will you tell us who it is that you fancy? We’ve been waiting for you to come to us, but, fuck me, you’ve got tight lips.”

“And, before you say it – we’re not nosy. We just care. And we find it cute.”

“And…”

“What?” you practically grunt, biting your tongue as a hefty challenge sends Alexia Putellas face-first onto the patchy grass. It makes your heart jump.

“Well, it’s not like she won’t want you, so make your move.”

“Just like you made your move on Justin Bieber?” She winces. “We did warn you, babe.”

“It’s alright,” Anya comforts with a small smile, though you are well aware of how funny she also found the situation. Being in LA, as a celebrity, is always an interesting experience. In Gio’s defence, she did not know about a certain model standing right behind her, and you are fairly sure she had run off to do lines with someone or other earlier. “But, yeah, seriously. Y/n, do you want us to guess?”

“Go on. Guess.” You smirk, because they’ll never–

Anya’s hand flaps as she puts her privately-educated memory to good use. “What’s-her-face?” she squeals, hand slapping down on her thigh as the name eludes her, the flapping resuming once she remembers. “Alexia Putellas!”

You rip your eyes from your cracked screen, widened in horror. “How did you know?” you ask, voice a whisper as you swallow your shock.

“You talk about her all the time. ‘Ooh, she’s the future’ this, ‘watch her grow’ that. Just talk to her. She’ll fancy you back.”

“She’s not a celebrity. Normal people don’t slide into people’s DMs like we do, and I have no clue whether or not she can speak English,” you reason, having said the same thing to yourself every time your finger hovers on that feature of Instagram. “And I don’t like her? You saw me kissing–”

“God, drop it. You know she kisses anyone with a mouth, and you also know that you’re lying your arse off. Whoever this footballer is, just talk to her. If anything, it’ll be good for you to spend time with someone who isn’t going to drag you right into their own closet.”

“Closets in LA can be very big,” you say with a sigh, having already received a lecture about the damage-control your publicist always seems to be doing. You don’t really think it’s ‘damage’ if a photo of you enjoying yourself with someone, but your publicity team deems any picture of you with a woman one to be locked away in some encrypted file and never released in the papers.

…

You: Hola! Congratulations on the win. :)

You cringe so hard, but you send it anyway, your friends leaning over either shoulder as they egg you on, wishing your closet gobbled you whole and spat you out somewhere further away than Narnia.

Alexia, in Barcelona, groans at the sound of her phone buzzing, wondering who on Earth is texting her this late.

And she drops the device on her face when she sees what the notification is.

Because it really does not make sense, and she is not used to the idea that women’s footballers could one day fraternise with celebrities like you without feeling out of place. (And she’s had a crush on you for about two years and you’re texting her at midnight to congratulate her.)

You, on the other hand, are gripping onto your phone with trembling hands, holding on for dear life. Anya, who claims her C in A-level Spanish was unjust and incorrect, is brainstorming your next message, adamant that you’ll seem cooler if you display some knowledge of her mother tongue. You don’t tell her that, of course, Alexia’s first language would have been Catalan, because you don’t want it to be obvious that you have done a little bit (a lot) of research.

Gio tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear for you – a comforting gesture. “Hey,” she says kindly, “what’s the worst that could happen?”

She tries.

She fails.

You have compiled a list within a millisecond. “I don’t know,” you start, but, oh, you do. “She could screenshot the conversation and leak it to Twitter? Or she’s not a lesbian and she is disgusted that I am? She could have a girlfriend? She could think my account’s been hacked and report me and everything’ll be deleted? Or all of the above?!”

The chat is still open on your phone, but you can’t see past your tidal wave of anxiety.

“I think you’re just nervous.” Understatement of the century.

Before you can make a snide remark saying exactly that but to Anya’s face, your message is no longer the only one present.

“She replied!” you shout, volume a concoction of fear and excitement and a thousand emotions in between.

Alexia: Gracias por ver :)

“Thanks for watching,” Anya translates.

You exhale. “Okay. Done. No more.” You ignore both of their facepalms with the sort of blissful ignorance you’re sure only delusional people possess, but it is better to have a healthy heart rate than to understand the lyrics to whatever ballad the two of them have in the works.

…

“Kiss her.”

“What?”

“Just kidding,” Jenni giggles, winking at Alexia and stealing her glass of something-not-too-strong.

The team has been invited to a party with the men’s team, all because their favourite girl group is back in town and are treating the club like a pit-stop on their way to Madrid for the European-leg of their tour. The album has been in the top ten worldwide ever since it was released.

Alexia looks good tonight, as said by Jenni who thought her wardrobe consisted solely of football strips and Barcelona merchandise, and she revels in her little secret. Your little secret. She hasn’t told anyone that you messaged her two months ago, even if the conversation ended with her response.

Which is why Jenni is set on teasing Alexia about her non-existent chance with you, especially when you have spent your entire night on the other side of the reception room, deep in conversation with Neymar Jr., who is not shameful about his appreciation for the plunging neckline of your tight dress. He has a girlfriend, but Alexia has seen enough tabloid headlines to know that most famous people don’t care.

Your glass is always full, though that is your own doing. Something about the way a pair of hazel eyes have been watching you from the minute you walked in makes the air around you feel heavier than it should, and alcohol helps to dull your fluster.

Anya and Gio have circled back a few times, adding to their persuasion each lap. When you see Gio heading your way, a small smile playing on her lips as someone or other trails behind, you excuse yourself from your conversation with your personal hero (who, sadly, would be able to describe your boobs but not your face if he were asked) and clasp your fingers around her forearm, pulling the two of you even further from a certain women’s footballer on the other side of the room.

“She’s staring,” says Gio in a low voice, leaning in to speak into your ear. “She’s staring at you like she wants to eat you.”

“I’d let her,” you reply, lips loosened from the champagne you’ve been drinking. “She is beautiful.”

“She is still staring.”

You decide to be bold. You stare back, and Alexia is trapped, frozen to the spot. “She is so beautiful.”

“Now you’re both staring.”

“I’m going to talk to her.”

“You should,” she encourages, slurring. The blur might come from your distraction, your drunkenness, or her own intoxication. You don’t care.

Absently, you nod. “Yeah.”

She presses her fingertips between your shoulder blades, cold hands making you shiver. “Go. You got this.”

“Yeah.”

She pushes you away from her, in Alexia’s direction. Your feet carry you on what feels like an inevitable path.

And you… walk right past her, out of the door, and into the warm air of the evening to have a smoke instead.

Behind you, Gio lets out a silent scream, turning right around and giving up on your happiness because what more can she do? And Alexia, who is confused about what just happened and bored of this event anyway, is glad to be given an excuse to leave.

Except, you are blocking her exit, cigarette pressed to your lips as you inhale the smoke like it is a lifeline. She frowns, lips a tight line of disappointment, really. “¿Tú fumas?” she asks, though she knows both the answer and of your incompetence when it comes to her language.

You let your eyes meet hers, and Alexia shivers, though she tells herself it is only because it’s November. “Hola,” you reply.

For some reason, Alexia is drawn in. She steps closer to you, and you don’t have anywhere to go, backed against the wall you are leaning on. You’re drunk, and the cigarette has burned down to a stub of orange and black. She’s also drunk – less so than you – and she has nothing to lose right now. She is no one, in her mind, and you are far from prudish.

She decides, once she is barely ten centimetres away from you, that your dress is provocative, but it only adds to your existing beauty. You push your chest out, standing up straighter.

The dance is very still, and very silent, but you can imagine what it feels like to kiss her and you know that she is thinking the same thing.

“You can, if you want to,” you whisper, hoping she understands.

Luckily, she does.

Alexia fumbles her way through the first tentative second, shocked that this is what she is doing, but she finds her footing and relaxes into the taste of champagne and cigarette smoke, the heat of your body sparking a fire within her. You pull her closer, pressing her body into yours, and you are now consumed by desperation. The kiss grows messier, and Alexia’s hands begin to roam, mind lost in a haze of desire. She is explorative but she is gentle, and you gasp into her mouth as her tongue pushes past your lips and a hand settles on the curve of your bum, the other cupping your jaw.

Briefly, she wonders how many girls you have done this with. You seem experienced. The thought, while a little disturbing, sort of spurs her on, feeding into her competitive nature. This will be unforgettable for her regardless of the outcome because it’s an interesting story to tell, but what about you? Are you even aware of what you’re doing? Are you straight? No, you can’t be. You messaged her, so you started this. She is only… finishing it?

You sense her distraction, pulling back with a blink and a deep intake of fresh air. She tries to move back, afraid of what comes next, but you don’t let her go, clutching onto the hardened muscles of her arms to hold her in place, ready to kiss her again.

The moment is spoilt by a voice – an English voice – and the theft of your attention. Your eyes, previously hooded and dark, widen as they flit towards the door behind her, terribly upset that your friends have developed the worst timing known to man. Gio shouts again, telling you that it’s time to go. You have to get to Madrid, and the pilot would be incredibly annoyed to hear that the flight was delayed because you were too caught up in snogging a girl you may or may not fancy.

“We really need to go!” Anya repeats, growing impatient with you as you debate giving up your entire music career. “Like, it is insane how badly you need to get your arse over here to say your goodbyes and then jump in the taxi to the airport with us.”

“Can it just–”

“No!” they both shout in unison.

You sigh, looking at Alexia, the proximity prodding at a feeling low in your stomach. She doesn’t squirm under the intensity of your gaze, instead sporting a lazy, blissfully ignorant grin. And you’re about to break her little heart.

“I have to go,” you say softly, forehead resting on her shoulder as you mumble your words out. You have a duty to your job, or, as Virgil puts it: labor omnia vincit. Work conquers all.

“You have to…?” she tries.

“Go.”

“Tiene que irse,” Anya translates, reminding you of her presence (and her much better comprehension of Spanish). “Ahora.”

“Ah.” Alexia’s hand cups the back of your neck as you raise your head, and she kisses you, though the kiss is short.

You pat your body down with a sudden haste, wandering past your alcohol-clouded thoughts to remember the location of your ticket, reaching down to grab your clutch from where you’d dropped it on the floor while having a smoke. It pops open as Alexia watches your movements, and you retrieve a pen and a scrunched up ticket (you have no idea why that’s in there, but you are grateful that it is).

“Here.” You hand her the ticket, pressing it into the palm of her hand and then sealing your goodbye with a quick peck to her lips.

Then, you are gone, running off at an impressive speed in those heels, chasing your friends into the building.

She pauses herself in time for a moment, drawing back her grasp on reality as her thoughts still and she breathes in your lingering perfume. And then she blinks – blinks her way back into midnight in Barcelona.

She opens her palm to see what your gift was, unfolding the piece of paper with an overwhelming curiosity that almost rips it at the edges.

A boarding pass from London Stansted to Barcelona-El Prat Airport, decorated in fresh, black ink.

Scrawled on top of the flight details is something much more valuable than the entrance into First Class the paper allows.

Eleven digits.

Twenty-two-year-old Alexia Putellas, the catalyst for change in women’s football as the world knows it, suddenly sees her future set right out in front of her. Because there you are.

#woso x reader #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas #woso #woso fanfics #barca femeni #fc barcelona

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vindelllas · 9 months

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a brief exploration of the atmakarakas 🪻

🩷 note: any information regarding atmakaraka placements should be treated lightly, as a good portion of these celebrities do not have verified birth information. i calculated all of the following celebrities with unverified birth times assuming they were born at noon their time!

brihaspati atmakaraka

🌾 aesthetic: model rockstar girlfriend x guilded glamour

🌾 key components: the femme fatale; the vampy embodiment of s*xuality. expanding on the divine intellect of cyclic and karmic law. "arge-bodied is jupiter, and also tawny haired and eyed, of kapha nature, intelligent and proficient in all shastras"

shani atmakaraka

🪐 aesthetic: the theatrical romantic

🪐 key components: the sensual hollywood starlet. learning how to acquire responsibility and remain afloat during the trials and tribulations of the body, mind, and spirit. "thin and long-bodied is saturn, and yellow-eyed, vata natured, large toothbed, indolent, lame and having coarse hair, o' twice born"

surya atmakaraka

🌞 aesthetic: the golden hour material girl

🌞 key components: of the outshining rays of surya, inspiring the growth in others. the center of the solar system and, thus, the center of attention. called to be the destined authoritative figure they were meant to me by finding humility and calming to their endless desires. "honey-yellow eyed is the sun, square and radiantly pure, o' twice born, of pitta nature, intelligent, masculine, with but little hair, o' twice born"

kuja atmakaraka

☄️ aesthetic: the magnificent mystique

☄️ key components: le féminin indépendant. their brimming beauty attracting vampiric envy from others and, thus, they must learn to set healthy boundaries and protect one's energy. "cruel with red eyes is mars, moving to and fro, of torn form, pitta nature, angry, with a lean medium-sized body, 'twice born"

buddha atmakaraka

🪻 aesthetic: the famed femme feminist

🪻 key components: embodying the misunderstood lalita. the most youthful appearing atmakaraka. fluent in intellect and ever-expanding in knowledge/femininity. "the most excellently formed, of metaphorical speech, and taking pleasure in laughter is mercury, having pitta, having kapha, o' wise, and of vata nature"

shukra atmakaraka

🍓 aesthetic: the renowned, infamous socialite

🍓 key components: the hollywood pin-up. embodying the epitome of venusian luxury and s*xual channeling, but eventually learning to channel their divine intellect away from the temporal/ tangible pursuits of the flesh. "pleasing, lovely formed, the most splendid and beautifully eyed is venus, who is poetical, abounding in kapha, of vata nature and curly haired"

chandra atmakaraka

🌙 aesthetic: the revolutionary (a vessel of subculture in the midst of pop culture)

🌙 key components: of the dark, yin waters of the moon. glimpsing into the realm of the obligatory pilgrimage of the soul. "abounding in vata and kapha and filled with knowing is the moon of round body, o' twice born, auspiciously eyed, of sweet speech, fluctuating and love sick"

🩷 all of these placements were found using astrotheme/.com and/or astro-charts/.com. it is important to note that some chandra (moon) placements may be off by up to 6 degrees and lagnas (ascendants/rising signs) as well, due to the fact that many websites do not have 100% accurate birth times for the given celebrities.

do not worry loves, uttara phlaguni post is on the horizon!

xoxo,

angel 💋

#vedicastrology #astrology #atmakaraka

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youthnighttarot · 1 year

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A letter from your FS/P (PAC) 18+

Pile 1 Pile 2

Pile 3

Pile 1

Cards Pulled: Lovers, Chariot, S.I.M.P, I love your back, Feelings

Letter: Not holding you in my arms brings me complete agony. Ever minute your not with me I miss and count the days. I love when we just cuddle up with each…no cares in the world just you and me. I’ve needed and craved your presence without even knowing it my whole life. I’m nothing without you but you’re someone without me…? You are and have always been your own person and I admire that about you. In fact I love this about you. I love that cheeky smile you give me when I make a comment too crass, or say a sly joke. You never not believed in me and what I’m capable of even when I’m not feeling that way myself. I wanna know why…after everything why..? I could lose my bloody home and the only shelter I would need is you….and you alone. I miss fucking and sliding inside of you as you part your lips in an O shape from me. Or when I get on top of you and ride you so you’re deeply inside of me. I love fucking you..!! Being inside or on top of you is sheer bliss. I keep asking myself what I did to deserve you and the answer keeps coming up short. I felt lost when you left and now that you’re back I’ll never lose you again. I’ll f**k you like there’s no tomorrow…morning,noon, and night I’m all yours and always yours.

Reading: So first thing I getting with this lovers card it that you and your FS/P are very compatible with each other. Mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. They understand you and you understand them. They can’t help but feel lost without you. (Lost without by Robin Thicc may resonate) They love you and truly believe that you are their soulmate…the one and only. You guys may have a cat or they just love to rub your cat/peen. They will kiss all up and down your body as you moan in bliss from their touch. You may have a bush and they don’t care. They may feel as though it’s like if you’re afraid of hair down there you’re not a real man/woman. Again I’m getting that energy of someone not approving of this relationship. (Likely a father and or mother figure) They constantly have something to say about this relationship/connection but y’all don’t really care at this point. And clearly it hasn’t affected anything because you spend the rest of your lives with each. They like to squeeze your breast or fondle you chest hairs. They want to lay you back and eat that kat/ suck that peen. You person may have some form of significant wealth. They like to pleasure you however way that they can. With the chariot I’m getting they like that they have a balance with you and there of form of control that you both have of each other. If you’re a feminine they want to lift your skirt up and love at that kitty kat. Again I’m the card picture she has a bush so they definitely can be a big fan of hair down there. It may have been a roller coaster to get to this point in your relationship due to outside sources…or even just you guys alone. But you’re here so enjoy it pile 1. So from the oracle deck the card that was pulled is S.I.M.P…in my deck it mean a spiritually inclined masculine pleaser. So essentially this person will be there to suffice your every need and desire. Truly and wholeheartedly without any conditions or expectations. And soulmate was at the back of the deck so definitely confirmation!! This person loves, loves, loves you backside they always wanna be able to see it and hit from the back. For some of you…you may even have back dimples. (I have 555 on the clock as we speak pile) I pulled from the sexual magic deck and the card that was pulled is Feelings so this person definitely has deep seeded feelings towards you and your connection. They truly love you pile 1 like actually. They may be a Gemini for some of you or could have that somewhere in their chart.

Channeled messages: 555, I love your smile (listen to that song), Gemini (Sun, Moon, Ascendent, Mercury, Venus) Soulmates, love and life, bush

Pile 2

Cards pulled: 8oWrv, 2oC, advice given, suck on my neck, Surrendering

Letter: Who knew when we met we would even be together let alone be married. You were so young and I just started really adulting. It was like a dream you and I…like a romance movie that never said cut. Sometimes I secretly find myself wondering if this is even real. I remember that red and gray dress that you wore. And that blue t-shirt with camouflage shorts. Sometimes people look at us funny because we’re so different even I find myself wondering how you became my wife/husband. You’re gorgeous and I love those beautiful brown eyes that you have. It’s like staring into a pot of honey….hehe speaking of honey that honey pot between your legs can make a Saint a sinner in minutes. Every time I hear your juices flowing or make that sound I love so much….I feel like I almost lose my mind. Can i admit something to you…? Before I knew you I knew I wanted to fucc you raw and nut inside of you. I know you’re gonna hush me up and tell me to wash my mouth out with soap. But I mean it. I haven’t been able to find someone who sucks/licks like you do but baby don’t think it’s just sex for me it’s not. I truly love and when I first saw you….it sounds silly but it was love at first sight for me. That cute giggle you do can make an old man cry and baby that ass can too. You can crack a walnut with it will you crack my walnut please baby please!

Reading: This person has a certain level of strength which enlivens this relationship. This person is not impulsive and doesn’t like to rush….so it may be a while before this relationship gets off the ground. But once it does you guys will have truly learned each other inside in out to create an even stronger bond/connection. They love you pile 2 but have a hard time showing this love for you. On the 8oW card I see a guy on his knees pleasing his woman. This is how your person is not only sexually but day to day life as well with you. They like to grip hard onto your a** cheeks as they devour your kitty/peen. They are truly someone who is down for any and everything when put in the right setting/environment. You make their d**k stand up at attention and their cl** throb with anticipation for s**. They like for you to be on top pile 2. Like all the time if you don’t mind. It’s not that they won’t be doing any work. Nay Nay Nay. They want to f**k you like this because they have more control of their lower body this way. And they wanna get the most out of pounding you. This is truly a balanced and equal connection and relationship with each other. You know that you can count on your FS/P because they have never let you down. This is definitely a soulmate/twinflame for a lot of you. (Well obvi but at the same time not obvi) For the rest this may be a karmic but don’t be alarmed this is simply because of your pass life karma…it’s not a bad karma rather a good one because you eliminated toxicity in your past life with them. They wanna have you gripping your hair while you ride them or while they’re deep inside of you. I pulled from the oracle deck and received Advice given there may be some advice someone give to you or your person that brings you together in so way….or helps you to understand each other a little more than before. They may also like to ask you about somethings they can do better to bring more pleasure to you. They are always trying to learn and get better especially for you. They love for you to suck on their neck…it’s their weakness and will get them to c*m even faster than usual. They are a big neck person in general they love neck play. Anything related to it turns them on. (Try choking them I hear..?) The care I pull from the sexual magic oracle deck is surrendering. Your FS/P is not afraid to surrender to you and to your relationship….they don’t mind allowing themselves to be used as long as your not taking advantage of them if that makes sense…? Jupiter may have some type of significance so look into that in your chart or theirs pile 2.

Channeled Messages: 27, club, advice given, suck on my neck, surrendering, Jupiter, Mars, Neptune, forgiveness

Pile 3

Cards Pulled: The Foolrv, Strengthrv, lonely, dead parent, Nostalgia

Letter: Your eyes always know just how to look at me. You’re a freak and I love you more for it. I get a certain type of urge to be inside of you constantly. Pleasure is our main Love language and I couldn’t ask for a better one. Who told you…you didn’t deserve the world I’ll kill them. You deserve nothing less but the best and I made that promise when I met you to always give you that forever. I love those long hugs we have after a night out on the town. How we touch when we’re making love….how you swallow all of my c*m down your throat like the good girl that you are. Fu*k how did I get so lucky to have a superstar like you. What I’m willing to do to never not have this, you can’t even begin to imagine. I like when your back is facing me so I can pull you closer to me and you feel my print/wetness against your a**. Can I make you a promise I’ll never leave those pretty pink lips wanting…they will always be satisfied. I love waking up next to you and pulling you into my big arms so you feel safe as you sleep. My mom/family may not like what we have but fu** em. Who the he** cares…you’re mine and I’m yours and no matter what. I’ll never break your heart like he/she did. I’m always thinking of you and what I want to do. But it’s not just s** for me. It’s a binding of souls and a meeting of minds. I’ve met my match with you love. You are the only one for me.

Reading: So of you may have already read pile 1 or were drawn to pile 1 so take a look at it if that resonates for you. You both may find yourselves getting into a lot of recklessness behavior with each other. You may be very playful people or easy going people to the point it becomes a detrimental to the people around you both. This for me seeing though it is a 18+ reading means that y’all be fu**ing a lot to the point that you both don’t seem to get a lot done. Or focus on the other part of the said partnership which is more than just s**. Your person may be uncircumcised and for the men your FS/P may be a virgin. A lot of times you could also feel like you may take certain aspects of your relationships more seriously than your FS/P and this can sometimes make you feel inadequate. But your person is always there to reassure despite their goofiness. They realize with you they have developed an inner strength or you could feel this way even though they may not be the most serious kind of person. You know that you can rely on them emotionally because they understand unlike any other. They like to do a lot of standing positions with you….your person is quite strong and can lift like you way 1lb no matter your size they can handle it. (Oop well then you better go head then) They like your thighs and how you can grip onto their hips with your thighs while they’re inside of you. I getting this person is quite strong physically but not mentally and they also need reassurance from you. They may have felt quite lonely in the world until they found you is this is due to the fact they last a parent or someone who was a parental figure in their life. They lost hope and confidence after this happened and then they met you and that all changed for them. They may not have a lot monetarily but they certainly make up for it in all other aspects of their lives. When they’re with you….you bring them back to a time when they were a kid and they do the same for you with their goofiness. Imma be honest pile 3 your person is fine as h*ll. Like panty dropping jaw dropping fine. And they have a nicely toned and muscular body no matter the gender. The nostalgia you bring to them makes both of you emotionally vulnerable and takes you back to a simpler time in your life. You know with them you can just sit down an decompress from life and the wrenches it throws at you. There is a lot of love here between the both of you…just work on that inner confidence and you will continue to grow for each other.

Channeled Messages: Moon, kids, playing around, strong energy, muscular, BD/Fat kat, 3,6,9&8, babies, growth power

🔮 Welcome to my tumblr!! I’m 🔮youthnighttarot🤗

💜I hope you enjoy the reading and find some level of entertainment and insight

Things to know

💜This is for entertainment purposes only and, not to be taken seriously

💜Take what you resonate with leave the rest

💜All feedback is welcomed as longs as it’s respectful

✨Take a breath before you choose your pile

Call me beep me if you wanna reach me🔮��

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Email [email protected]

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sardonic-the-writer · 5 months

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𝐁𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐡 𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ warnings: none

↳ notes: forgot how good this movie series was. going to be thinking about it quite a bit these few coming days. especially egon! favorite character by far, with winston in next place

↳ song: main title theme (ghostbusters)—elmer bernstein

masterlist | commisions | carrd

• When a flyer for a job downtown mysteriously appeared in your mailbox slot, your first thought was to throw it away

• It looked scrappy. Par on course with the rest of the junk mail companies normally delt out to catch your eye

• Still. Three days later you were standing outside a mildly reevaluated looking firehouse with the paper clutched loosely in your hand, and your best clothes on

• As you’d walked towards the doors, a man came up from behind you, uttering an apology as he nearly bumped into you

• “Hey,” He had paused, allowing you to catch a glance of his tan suit and kinky black hair. “You here for an interview, too?” He asked, walking through the large off-green door as you held it open for him

• “Sure am.”

• “Well, may the best one win. Or get the job, I suppose.” He chuckled with a lopsided grin

• "I dont think they’ll mind hiring the both of us." You eventually responded, looking up at the way the ceiling sagged with old age

• Following your line of sight, the man beside you nodded deeply, and the both of you made your way up to a reception desk with a very annoyed looking lady behind it

• That was the day both you, and who you later learned to be Winston, got the job as the newest pair of Ghostbusters

• “Meet back here tomorrow at noon.” The snappy lady with glasses had said monotonly as she thrust a set of papers at you. You were still looking in the direction that two yelping men in jumpsuits had just gone holding a machine, that it took you a second to notice

• “With the way this job is looking? No way I’m missing tomorrow.”

• Meeting your employers slash coworkers for the first time— technically second if you counted the way two of them crashed your interview mid hiring —was certainly an experience

• Only one had been prepared for both you and Winston’s first days with a handshake and slightly unbuttoned lab coat

• He had introduced himself as doctor Egon Spengler, and shook your hand with a certain rigidness to it. Still, you caught him looking at the both of you with curiosity, so you tossed him an easy upward twitch of you lips. He seemed to relax a little after that

• The other two, however, had proved to be more difficult upon meeting

• Ray Stanz and Peter Venkman were certainly a pair, with the latter sure to be the cause of later headaches, but seemed friendly anyways—if the way they slapped you on the back said anything

• “Welcome to the nerd squad.” Peter has smiled teasingly at you, immediately wrapping an arm around your shoulders and bringing you close as if he was about to tell you a secret. “Stick with me, and you’ll be kicking it with the cool kids!”

• “Is he always like this?” You asked while pushing him away

• “Regrettably.” Egon responded in a flat tone as he moved back to statistics on a chart. “Try being roommates with him in college for six years.”

• “No thanks. I think I’d rather get possessed by one of those ghosts you guys hunt.”

• “Hey, still here!”

• You fell right into place with them pretty quickly after that. Something about getting slimed by a poltergeist in Central Park really brings a group of people together. Especially if they happen to get a really good meal of Thai right after

• In the days weeks and months following your hiring, you get to learn a lot about the little team you’d been squished into

• Winston was probably the first one you befriended. Maybe because the both of you had showed up around the same time, but you found him one of the easiest to just sit down and talk to after a mission without being interrupted every two sentences. The other guys were great, but he seemed to appreciate a little peace and quiet more than what you got in the headquarters

• “Seriously— do we have to call it the headquarters?” You interrupted Peter in the middle of his rant. Sipping on a cup of coffee, you took a moment before speaking more. It really was too early for this. “I mean, come on. It makes us sound like bizzaro superhero’s. More than we already do, anyway.”

• “Personally I wouldn’t mind playing a little Bruce Wayne every now and then.” Peter grinned back suggestively. From beside you, Ego let out his equivalent of an annoyed sigh as he tinkered with stray machinery. Apparently someone else felt it was too early for Peters antics, too

• “Gag me with a spoon.” You deadpanned while swirling your mug around moodily

• “Fine fine. We can call it home base. Happy, sunshine?”

• You grumbled at his sickeningly sweet tone before delving back into your coffee, missing the way Ray and Winston shared slight smiles at the exchange

• “Now that you four are done, mind helping me with our actual jobs?”

• “Oops. Yeah. Sorry Egon.”

• “Sigh.”

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demigod-of-the-agni · 6 months

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#LongPost: A Few Hyper-Specific Things About India for India-Based Stories and Art

No this isn't a cry for more Indian-rep in Spider-Verse stories. (It is.)

Anyway. I recently went to India, and after returning to my hometown in Tamil Nadu, I reintegrated a whole slew of memories and collated new facts.. And considering I've been wanting to do one of these for quite some time (and because I need a new variety of Pavitr Prabhakar content), I thought it'd be cool if I shared some of my experiences and ideas with you.

It's best to take this with caution, though: the only places I've been to are Tiruchirappalli, Madurai, and a few towns located close to the Eastern Ghats, so my knowledge is heavily South India-based. I know for a fact that there are various similarities and differences between other geo-cultural areas of India, which is I why I've linked the other cool India Resources here as well.

In Which I Ramble About Pavitr's Character Design and the Indian Cultural Stuff Related to It by @chaos-and-sparkles (+ my addition + @neptune432's addition)

A culture post for the girlie pops (and non-girlie pops) looking to write Pavitr Prabhakar accurately by @summer-blues-stuff (+ my addition + @fandomsfeminismandme addition)

Also a timely reminder of @writingwithcolor's wonderful resources on writing about South Asian characters respectfully and sincerely

Now, for the things I've noticed in South India..

ANIMALS

There are a lot of street dogs. Like... a lot of them. And honestly it's so hard not to go up to one and give them a snack or two. The most notable dog breed is the Indian pariah and they can be found all over India. Mixed dog breeds are also common and results in a variety of features like differences in build and coat colours.

There are also other types of animals are pretty common to see alongside the roads.

Cattle are seen a lot (cows and bulls are easy to distinguish; cows (left) have udders and a small hump on their back, while bulls (right) are generally stockier and have a super-defined hump on their back). I'm pretty sure the specific cow breed is the sahiwal cow. They are either herded into paddocks for grazing or can be found wandering city streets on their own.

Goats are often herded by farmers into large masses of wool and horns and are guided to paddocks to graze. Sometimes, like cattle, they'll be found wandering city streets on their own.

Chickens are usually kept close to stalls and homes. These chickens are not plump and fluffy like most Western chickens, but are quite skinny. Mottled feather colours are usually a result of mixed chicken breeds. In Tamil Nadu, the most common chicken breed is the asil chicken.

Various birds are often seen flying around traffic if they’re not disappearing into the sky, the most common being crows, pigeons and mynahs. (The chart below on the right is not an inexhaustive list of birds; you best search them up yourself.)

TRANSPORT

There is obviously a huge amount of trucks and lorries and buses. They all have beautiful designs or crazy LEDs or large detailed fluorescent / iridescent stickers that are impossible to ignore, whether it be at high noon or midnight.

Expanding on that, the most common method of transport are motorcyclse or scooties, cars, and autos.

Also, as expected: traffic is insane. It’s horrible. It’s exhilarating. Western honking is akin to swearing, but here? Honk whenever you want. Honk if you’re happy or if you’re sad. You get a million dollars if you honk. You need to honk. It’s more important than breathing

Similarly, road rules don’t exist. Well, they do, and the Indian government does everything it can to make sure people do follow the rules, but based on the aforementioned honking, most people don't. Everyone just drives. Most bikers and motorcyclists don’t wear helmets. Only a few people wear seatbelts. Cars and motorcycles drive on the wrong side of the road and right into oncoming traffic. The chance of someone dying is 99% but it’s countered by desi stubbornness.

ENVIRONMENT & INFRASTRUCTURE

Houses and buildings are painted different colours!!! Pastel pinks and purples and deep teal hues, either plain colours or decorated with elaborate murals. This also applies to interiors. I reckon it was surprising to a lot of people when they were confronted with Mumbattan's vibrant colours, but honestly: coloured buildings slap, and it's based on the real thing. They are a sight to behold. Couple that with the architecture and oh boy- you've got such a beautiful environment.

From @jettpack's concept art for Mumbattan buildings

jettpack's concept art of the Mumbattan collider

From @chenfelicia's concept and colour keys of Mumbattan

Don't be shy to really immerse in crazy descriptors - that's how you capture the liveliness of cities like Madurai and Mumbai and ultimately, their physical manifestations like Mumbattan.

Funny enough, movie posters and political banners and flyers are EVERYWHERE. They’re huge and take up entire billboards, or congregate along walls so it becomes practically a collage. It's impossible to ignore the image of "Makkal Selvan" Vijay Sethupathi about to beat some poor loser into a pulp with a stick, or the political parties roasting each other on paper with impressive photoshopped graphics.

To tie in to the point about transport: there are hundreds of coffee stalls and snack shops and one-of-a-kind food stands. You can’t go 200 metres without running into one, either on the highway or in the city. I remember having jaggery coffee on my first night in India, and guys- it tasted so fucking good. I only wish I can transfer the taste to you. Absolutely splendid.

The climate in India is generally very humid and warm, but that doesn't mean we don't get cooler days; it is obviously cooler on winter nights. Also I've heard from many conflicting sources on India's seasonal weather (probably due to India's geograpghy), so you will have to talk to someone who is from India to really confirm. I've somewhat boiled it down to five seasons:

Summer - May-Jun; very hot (35-45ºC/95-113ºF), characterised by shrinking water bodies and droughts if there aren't any rainfalls; this time is good for plant growth/harvest if you've successfully managed water supplies

Monsoon - Jul-Aug; (34ºC/93ºF) very variable in terms of timing, characterised by torrential rains and floodings; the raining itself probably lodges somewhere in Jun-Sept but the aftereffects are felt long after the rains have stopped

Autumn - Sept-Nov; cooler but humid (25-35ºC/77-95ºF), and generally much drier since it transitions from autumn to winter

Winter - Dec-Feb; much colder, but the extent is dependent on geographic regions (20-25ºC/68-77ºF)

Spring - Mar-Apr; humid (33ºC/91ºF), sudden downpours, only occasionally do you get pleasant weather in this time

PEOPLE AND CULTURE

For some reason, there are still loud speakers blaring out music across the roads and as far as a few city blocks. I honestly thought that that had died out by the time my parents had graduated university, but it still seems like people like hearing music played at 120 decibels.

This is a complicated issue but people are not piss poor. Yes, India is a developing country, and yes there are slums and there are homeless and there are those who are stuck in a horrific sociocultural cycle, but people are rapidly getting into high-paying jobs at much higher rates than before. Overall, India is getting better; do us a favour and not have us be represented by the same poor struggle-riddled Indian stories that Hollywood and Western media is are fond of portraying.

@neptune432: One thing I think it's important to acknowledge though is how your experience in India changes depending on your caste. I feel like most of the indian voices talking online are savarna (I'm not an exception) so this doesn't get brought up as much. It's a complicated issue and one that I don't think non-indians (or savarna indians) should worry about tackling in their work, but it's worth saying because what's assumed to be everyday aspects of indian culture are actually specific to things like caste, class, and what region you're in. ex: in kerala, there are also examples of people eating on banana leaf with lots of vegan food for special occasions (namely during onam). but veganism is heavily tied to brahmanism so most of these people will be savarna. even if they eat meat otherwise, the specific interest in eating vegan for special occassions has clear implications. Though many people of different castes eat meat, it's a practice that gets discriminated against, being treated as barbaric and unclean. this is because of brahmanism and is usually only strictly followed by brahmins. dalits/bahujan usually face the worse treatment for their eating traditions. there's also the fact that hinduism is more of a recent term and a broad umbrella where many different gods and cultures have been put under (and usually done forcefully). a lot of local dieties and specific cultural practices come from outside the vedic traditions of aryans (upper caste north india), but now are treated almost as one thing. ex: kali is a south indian (dravidian) goddess who's still heavily worshipped there and who later got adapted to brahminical traditions. that's also why south indian practices of worship are different from the north and are discriminated against ex: north indians getting angry at the idea of worshipping kali by drinking alcohol and smoking even though it's an older tradition than theirs. these traditions are often connected to dalit/tribal cultures as well, which adds to why these traditions are attacked. Now, I don't feel comfortable with non-indians writing about india in general but I feel it's important to mention these things cos most people don't even realize they're only getting shown certain perspectives. How many people don't even know they're a north/south divide, for example? People are fed narrow viewpoints on India and assume that's everything to know. it's a problem cos that's what the brahminical forces in india want. This is all very general info too and I'm no expert so it's worth more research (like reading what dalits have said on their experiences). I'm not trying to criticize you btw, I just wanted to add some things cos this has been on my mind for a long time now. Couldn't have said it better myself, neptune!! (I barely mentioned it at all lmao) The caste system despite it being "abolished" still defines many traditions within India, and almost always in harmful ways. Like @summer-blues-stuff and I have mentioned in their post A culture post for the girlie pops under the Religion and caste section, it's best to leave the caste and social hierarchy alone even if you've done your research. That doesn't mean you shouldn't talk about it, it's just that people, especially those of non-South Asian decent, have to be extremely careful about it. Introductory resources on the caste system can be found on ABC, Pew Research and The Conversation.

Furthermore, the automatic assumption is that people living in shacks or remote villages have no access to greater populations and resources, which I'm happy to completely disprove. Guys: majority of the people living in my village, a rather remote village, have phones on them. Ranges from iPhones to Androids to good ol' Nokias.

(And, side note: as an Indian, I get amazingly pissed off when people's ringtones are set to maximum volume and play the same famous part of a famous song every time they get a call. Like shut the fuck up. At least quieten down? Please??)

(Also this might be a South Indian thing but Man some people are so entitled. Dudes you do not need to rub your ego into my face. Dudes you can, you know, keep all the cool things you think will get other people jealous out of the public eye. At this point I'm not jealous of what you Have, I'm pissed off at the Audacity To Think You Can Make Me Feel Bad About Myself With The Things That You Have).

Alright. Moving on.

Tiny temples and shrines are everywhere, dedicated to broad-Hinduism deities like Ganesh, Shakthi, or Vishnu; other times, they are shrines built for local deities that protect a particular village. For example, my village dedicated a little plot of water-logged land to a benevolent spirit called Subbamma, where people would leave offerings or place their sick/injured animals at the water's edge so that Subbamma could heal them. These tiny temples are almost always super colourful and amazingly detailed despite their small size

It could be a whole month before a celebration like Diwali but it’s the perfect time to set off hundreds of fireworks and firecrackers. People are just inconsiderate in many ways, it seems.

Some women wear strings of jasmine flowers in their hair. This might be completely regional-based, but most if not all women, ranging from little kids to old ladies, will wear these strings of jasmine in their hair. It's supposed to represent good fortune and beauty, and it smells wonderful.

@esrev-redips: #i usually only visit the north side of india (went to banglore and or chennai once) but im pretty sure most women in mumbai wouldnt wear #flowers in their hair unless they were of an older generation #they dont in new delhi at least and i t h i n k you can compare them but im not sure since i dont live in india either Thank you esrev!!!!! glad to see an old hunch be confirmed!!!

Normally you can wear any type of jasmine, but the common subtypes in Tamil Nadu are ஜாதிமல்லி (jathimalli; "Spanish jasmine"; left) and மல்லிப்பூ (mallipoo; right).

Eating food from a plate made from a banana leaf is more than just an aesthetic, and is often reserved for certain occasions; other times we eat from metal or ceramic plates. I can't vouch for other areas of India but I've been told the reason why banana leaves are predominantly used for large gatherings is because they can signal to diners if the food is rotten or has been poisoned; supposedly the leaf itself starts rotting and releases liquid, but I personally have never seen this happen. But of course, there are also other reasons as to why banana leaves are used (all of which are valid) ranging from being an eco-friendly disposable plate, offloading nutrients into food, or even to make the food taste better. Pick whichever reason you like.

I'm literally so hungry looking at this. (Realises this is a Pavitr thing to say.) Anyway.

FOOD RECS!!!!!!

Reblog with your favourite foods >:) The list will be routinely updated...

JAGGERY COFFEE (from me) - GOOD FUCKING STUFF. ACTUALLY. if you see it.. GET IT IMMEDIATELY

PANI PURI (from @esrev-redips) - #also you forgot to mention the PANI PURI STANDS AHHHHHH YUMYUMYUM | RRRR YOU'RE SO RIGHT. PANI PURI FOR LIFE ACTUALLY.

JASUBEN PIZZA (from @the-witch-forever-lives) - okay this is specific to Ahmedabad | okay but as specific as it may be that sounds and looks delicious??? hello??????

DABELI (from @the-witch-forever-lives) - this too???? also it LOOKS wonderful i need it right now actually

VADA PAV (from @the-witch-forever-lives) - Also Vada pav from Mumbai is so one of a kind | you are absolutely correct. vada pav is truly something magnificent

I think that's about all I can give you right now. This took me a while to type out. Feel free to ask any questions, or if you have anything you would like to add on, like anything I might have glossed over or your favourite desi foods, please do!!! I'll be sure to reblog your addition and update the original post.

The point is that this post can become one of those few other reference posts that artists and writers and other creatives can use if they ever want to make anything related to India, because it's genuinely so cool to see your culture represented so well in popular modern media.

(And in fanfic and fandom. Especially in fanfic and fandom. you have no idea how many times I've gone insane reading a Pavitr-centric fic or reading comments on Pavitr-related posts and it's just outdated ideas and harmful stereotypes and all sorts of sick bullshit, and it's always to the point where I physically have to go outside and bite into a fresh rhizome in order to ground myself. Like damn, people, you need to know things before you start creating)

So uh, I hope this was helpful if not interesting! Happy early Diwali everyone! Knowledge-over-ignorance and all that; hopefully this post does that notion justice!

#pavitr prabhakar #wrote this solely because i wanted more atsv pavitr-centric fics and i need to get that specific immersed-in-india itch scratched #and also because the india i remembered decades ago is definitely not the india i visited last week #wow time flies doesn't it #spider man india #india #writing tips #o wise writer stuff #indian culture #south asian culture #spider man across the spider verse #atsv #across the spider verse #chaipunk #goldenpunk #cultural references #atsv pavitr #agnirambles

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venussaidso · 2 months

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who tf do ketu men frequently date? 🧍🏼

so i decided to check the charts of ex/current partners of some selected well known ketu men.

See, Timothee Chalamat having dated Rahu and Jupiter girls kinda validates my theory of Ketu men going for these planetary archetypes. I also see Moon and Mercury nakshatra women.

He dated Shatabhisha ASC, Vishakha Moon Lourdes Leon. Was with Eiza Gonzalez who has Shravana Sun & a possible Purva Bhadrapada Moon. His iconic pairing with Lily Rose Depp who's Rohini Sun & Swati Moon and Vishakha ASC. And finally Kylie Jenner -- Ashlesha Sun, Swati Moon.

Avan Jogia, who is Ashwini Moon, is dating Punarvasu Moon Halsey -- and she also has Hasta Sun AND Swati ASC. He's also dated Zoey Deutch who is a Vishakha Sun. He dated Swati Sun Cleopatra Coleman. He had a thing with Vishakha Moon Miley Cyrus 💀

Ben Barnes, who is Ashwini Moon & Magha Sun, dated Ardra Moon Tamsin Egerton. Then Shatabhisha Moon Felicity Jones. And also Vishakha ASC AND Hasta Moon Julianna Hough.

Possible Magha Moon Robert Sheehan with his long-time girlfriend Revati Sun Sofia Boutella.

Idris Elba's -- who's Magha Moon -- current wife is a Punarvasu Sun AND a Jyestha Moon mwahaha.

Ashwini Moon Benedict Cumberbatch's wife is a Purva Bhadrapada Sun AND Rohini Moon.

Ashwini Moon Michael C. Hall's first wife had Revati Moon, name's Amy Spanger. Then he married Jyestha Sun Jennifer Carpenter who ALSO has Punarvasu Moon and a Hasta ASC.

Ashwini Moon Matt Dillion had dated Vishakha Moon Denise Richards. Also Punarvasu native Cameron Diaz. And I believe his recent partner is Vishakha Moon Roberta Mastromichele. He'd dated Ashlesha ASC, Swati Moon and Shravana Sun Heather Graham.

Magha Moon Paul Wesley was married to Hasta Moon Torrey DeVitto. He was also engaged to Punarvasu native Phoebe Tonkin.

Ashwini Sun Machine Gun Kelly (who also dated Punarvasu native Halsey), was with Ashlesha Moon Megan Fox. Daniel Day Lewis' wife is a Revati Moon. Cilian Murphy, who I also believe to be Ketuvian, is married to a Jyestha Moon woman. Christian Bale's -- who's Ashwini Moon -- wife may have Revati Sun (she may also be Ashwini Sun if she was born past noon).

And Ketu men also go for Ketu women. Justin Trudeau's wife is an Ashwini Sun. Machine Gun Kelly dated Ashwini native Amber Rose.

Ashwini Moon Milo Ventimiglia's wife, Jarah Mariano, is a Jyestha Moon. He's dated Ashwini Moon Alexis Bledel and also Hayden Panettiere who's also an Ashwini Moon with Magha Sun.

Ashwini Moon Boris Kodjoe's wife, Nichole Ari Parker, is a Mula Moon with a Hasta Sun.

Magha Sun Andrew Garfield was with Magha ASC, Swati Sun and Hasta Moon Emma Stone. He also dated Mula Sun Shannon Woodward. He'd been with Ashwini Sun and Vishakha Moon Phoebe Dynevor. Also Ardra Sun Alyssa Miller. He got on with Ashlesha Asc & Purva Bhadrapada Moon Rita Ora too.

Mula Sun, and confirmed Ashwini Moon, Jared Leto, had dated Vishakha Moon Scarlett Johansson. Then Ashley Olsen who is literally a Magha Moon with Ashlesha ASC. He'd been with Punarvasu ASC Cameron Diaz. He was also linked with Ardra Sun Lindsey Lohan. Had an iconic love struck moment with Shatabhisha Sun, Hasta Moon Lupita Nyong'o. I think Valery Kauffman too who's Rohini Sun and Shravana Moon. Reminder that he's a Krittika Asc, he's a Sun nakshatra and my god he's got a running list of hookups I can't deal with right now so Valery is where it ends. It's honestly giving Leonardo DiCaprio lmfao who's also a Sun nakshatra (can't stand solar males💀).

If I stumble on more Ketu men, I'll probably keep editing this post. But there's a pattern here. It's Rahu, Moon, Mercury, Jupiter and Ketu nakshatras that frequently pop up in the women they date. Honorable mentions are Sun and Mars nakshatras. Seriously, I find this fascinating.

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sinsinsininning · 3 months

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A little bit softer

Chapter 5

Eustass Kid x crewmate!fem!Reader

TW: some street harassment from an unnamed man, cursing, allusion to prev smut, very brief descriptions of sexual harassment, drinking

A/N: this one was loooooooong, sorry I’ve been struggling with work and I can’t work on this as much as I’d like too

~~~~~~

It was nothing. You thought the moment you woke up.

It was nothing. Over and over in your mind as you rolled out of bed.

It only happened because you were tired. You almost said it out loud while getting dressed, your mumbling earned you a look from House.

Because you couldn’t think of anyone else. You felt like a zombie trudging to the galley for coffee and your daily assignments.

And you couldn’t think of anyone else, because you were tired.

You rubbed your eyes and tried to not think, as Killer greeted you, the coffee still brewing.

The rest of the morning crew were giggling and chatting away, you kinda wanted to shoot one of them out of jealousy. Instead you tucked into the plate of eggs and fruit Killer placed in front of you.

He paused at your tired expression, but went back to cooking. Today would be long, you decided.

It’s my punishment for last night. You shook your head quickly to clear your mind. A few crew mates nudged each other, grinning.

“Hey sunshine,” Hop called out. “You look a little rough, long night?” Quincy giggled, you sent them both a withering glare.

“Maybe if you hadn’t chipped your sword in 5 different spots I wouldn’t have been up all night.” You grouched, she blushed and clammed up. You turned to Quincy. “Stop giggling, how the fuck did you manage to break the bolt on your gun?”

“Hee~ it’s a mystery.” She winked.

“You’re a menace.” You said, stuffing more eggs in your mouth. Killer places a mug of coffee in front of you and clears his throat, gaining everyone’s attention.

“We won’t be docking until a little past noon, if everyone gets their tasks done before that then you can do whatever you want on shore,” He paused for the usual cheers, being morning crew on shore days was the best. Afternoon crew had to do supply runs and maintenance, but at least they got to sleep in. “Now finish eating and I’ll give you an assignment.”

You don’t take your time, hoping to rush through whatever cleaning you have to do and get a nap in before docking. After rinsing your dish and chugging your coffee, you wait in front of Killer.

“You only got two chores today, mopping the hallways and helping Wire with some charting.” Killer pauses for a moment. “After that try to get some close range target practice in before going on shore. Captain wants everyone in top shape.”

You almost groan, charting maps with Wire and sharp shooting practice would easily take the full morning, if not the whole day. Maybe you can get Wire to have mercy on you, doubtful though, he’s way too passionate about maps. Killer dismisses you and you refill your mug before heading out to mop.

The hallways weren’t difficult to mop per se, but they were long and winding, plus there was frequent foot traffic to account for. Too many people walking around leads to slipping, so it was best to mop a section then go back with a towel to dry it then rinse and repeat. Your caffeine buzz gave you a burst of energy and it only took you an hour to get it done.

Now you just had to help Wire and you could nap, though you weren’t sure how you could help with charting it wasn’t your area of expertise.

Still, it was an order from Killer so you met with your tallest crew mate on the deck. There were several crew mates milling about, either working on chores or sparring. Wire was already sitting, pencil moving briskly with a smile on his face.

“You’re literally the cutest,” You said as you sat down. “Seriously I could eat you up.” He looked up at you with his heavy eyes and smiled again.

“Oh sweetie I doubt you have the appetite.” He said demurely, before the both of you burst out with laughter. Wire was easily the biggest flirt on the crew, besides you of course. He took a moment to observe you as you sat, noticing your eye bags and red sclera. “You look like you had a long night. You got a special someone I don’t know about?”

“Ha! Yeah right,” You snort, taking a sip of your now cold coffee. “You’d be the first to know if I had a new beau.”

“Oh I better be.” Part of you worried he’d start making assumptions again, but he spared you instead rifling through some papers.

“So what do you need me for? I’m not exactly a navigator.” You ask, he smiles again.

“True, but charting isn’t just marking a path on a map, it also involves some local intel.”

“Oh? How can I help then?”

“Well you know how Captain has changed course to go to the West Blue yes?”

“Uh- yeah I guess.” You feel an anxious pit in your stomach.

“Well we’re going after a specific crew, have you heard of a Captain Badger?” He asked, pulling out an old faded bounty, the picture was grainy but you’d recognize that face anywhere.

“Ummm.” You grabbed the paper, playing up your pause. “Yeah I think I have.” Wire seemed excited.

“Wonderful! Do you know where he operates out of? Or what his crew name and size is?”

You knew, but getting the words out was difficult. You didn’t think Kid had been serious about going and killer you former captain. Now you’d have to explain you past to everyone, who knows how they’d react. They’d think you were a coward. Or worse they’d pity you.

“Pretty sure he’s got a smaller crew, like less than 20 people. And I uh- I don’t remember his crew name, it was something like Wave or Tide Pirates.” You offer with a sheepish grin and a shrug, Wire tilted his head then started writing again. “Did the Captain say why he was go after him?”

“He said he wants him dead and that’d I’d know more when I need to know more.” Wire grinned. “Which is what he usually says so chances are this guy insulted him once like a year ago and now we’re gonna kill him.” He chuckled, you tried to join in but it sounded watery.

“We-Well if you don’t need anything else-”

“Oh, yes do you know where he operates out of? Does he have a base camp or anything?” Wired asked.

He wishes, you thought wryly.

“Hmmm, I think he stays around Toroa. That’s all I can remember.” You laugh shakily again and dismiss yourself. Wire frowns, he’d rather have you here while he finished the map to answer any other questions. But you seemed so unlike yourself today, he hoped you went and rested a bit.

Part of you wanted to scream, Kid was seriously delaying their journey just to go kill some guy he’s never even met. You laid back down on your bunk, Hip was getting dressed while Emma brushed her hair.

“Morning, Doll.” Emma smiled at you, you grunted out a greeting and pulled the blanket over your head. “Oooff you alright?”

“She got in late last night,” Hip answered for you, fixing her lipstick. “Let her get some sleep before we dock.” She flicked the lights off.

“Hip I could kiss you right now.” You groaned out, grateful to your friend. The two opened the door to leave, Hip poked her head back in.

“You’d ruin my lipstick~” She purred dramatically.

“Tragic, how will I ever recover?” You chuckled dryly, taking the time now to remove your outer clothes before your nap. You ended up in your underwear and a baggy top.

“Have sweet dreams love!” Hip called out, Emma slammed the door shut probably sick of your jokes.

You didn’t sleep deeply, constantly tossing and turning, you tried not to think about Kid or why he was doing all of this. It was so out of nowhere, a month ago you barely even spoke.

Eventually you settle enough to dream of nothing, of course that didn’t last long and soon enough someone was pounding on your bunk door. You jolted awake, worried there was a fight or something, and grabbed one of the many knives off the wall before yanking the door open.

Kid seemed surprised to be on the business end of your knife, you stared at each other for a bit before he started laughing. You flushed and lowered the blade with a muttered apology.

“Shit you’re a fucking sight!” He cackled, leaning against the doorway. His eyes drag up and down your form and you feel like bursting into flame when he gives a low whistle. “What’s with the get up? You trying a new look?”

You slam the door shut and go to put some clothes on, you wouldn’t bother to put clothes on if the ship was under attack. But you didn’t really feel like talking to your captain in your undergarments. At least you’d worn boxers so there was a little bit of coverage.

Kid shoved the door open as you picked up some clothes.

“Oi could’ve broken my nose!”

“Why were you pounding on my door like that?” You asked trying to yank your pants on. “Thought we were under siege or there was a fire!” He laughs again.

“Well nice to know you’re always ready for a fight!” He’s grinning and if you weren’t so embarrassed you’d have found the situation funny too. “Anyways we just docked and you weren’t on deck so I came to grab ya.”

“Thanks, Boss.” She buckle your belt, making sure it sat well on your hips before pulling your tank top on. His eyes were still watching you, you felt warm again. “Sorry, I was sleeping, didn’t hear the call on the comms.” He grinned again.

“Yeah? You were up late last night.” He didn’t say it like a question, but you still answered like it was.

“Yup weapon repair took longer than expected. Didn’t finish until late.” You yank on your boots now, he’s back to leaning on the doorframe.

“I know.” His smile was wide and at that moment you felt exposed again.

“Huh?”

“I was up and saw your dinner still in the fridge.” He shrugged. “Figured you weren’t done yet.” He didn’t reveal more, just in case you suspected it was him outside the showers last night. You feel a little bit better now.

“Yup, like I said. Took a while, I ate eventually before bed.” You kept it short, hopefully you seemed relaxed. Probably not. “You need anything else?”

He frowned at the dismissive tone, but didn’t comment just walked out towards the deck, leaving the door wide open. You sighed, glad he was gone. That conversation could’ve been much worse, you count it as a victory.

Heat popped his head in as you finished getting ready, eyes suspicious.

“You alright? Just saw Kid walk out of here like he was pissed.”

“I’m good, he woke me up from my nap and I kinda held a knife at him.” You tie your hair back away from you face with a grin.

“Woah why’d you threaten him?” He looked impressed.

“He scared me! I thought we were under attack so I was just prepared for an enemy to be at my door!” You laughed while trying to defend yourself. “I’m sure he’s pretty pissed about it. Surprised he didn’t revoke my shore leave.”

“Nah there’s no way he’d be mad at you.” Heat walked with you to the deck. “He’s probably into that typa shit.” You make a face and cover your ears as he opens the door for you, cackling at your blush.

“I don’t need to know your theories, thank you!” The deck is mostly empty, just a few people who are on duty milling about. Killer and Kid are next to the exit, talking together with Wire.

Heat walks with you to the exit, you have no plans at shore but it’s mid afternoon so there’s plenty to do. You pass by Kid without looking at him, hoping to escape without an incident. Wire waves you over and you feel like crying.

“I’ll catch up with you,” You let Heat go on without you. “Let’s meet for drinks in an hour. Same spot as last time, yeah?” He gives you a thumbs up and climbs down. You walk over to the group and nod your greeting, eyes on Wire.

“I was just letting Captain and Killer know, I’ve finished charting our course!” Wire was lit up, lidded eyes shut as he smiled and swayed. “Thank you for the help, by the way.” Kid looked bored and Killer looked….well like Killer.

“Of course, not a problem.” You desperately want to leave right now, but with 3 high ranking crew mates you knew better than to go without being properly dismissed.

“If you remember anything else, let me know! I’m hoping to figure out his crew’s name.” Wire hummed distractedly. “Maybe I can find a more recent bounty with it.”

Killer cocks his head to the side, an exaggerated confusion, while Kid just flat out gapes at you. Your smile is wobbly and you hope they don’t ask you about it. You just didn’t want more people knowing about your old captain, it’d be too much of a hassle.

“I think it may be a good idea for you and Wire to have a session together.” Killer said slowly, Kid opened his mouth but a nudge from his first mate kept him quiet. “You’ve been here for months, it’d be good for you to have a check up.”

“Oh?” Wire perked up, he knelt down so he was a little closer to your height, something he did when a sensitive moment popped up. “You know, I didn’t realize it, but we never had an official talk before have we?”

“I guess not,” You cringed, the idea of having a sorta-kinda therapy session didn’t interest you at all. “I don’t think it’s necessary.” Wire waves at you are with a smile.

“Nonsense! It’s part of my duties, plus it couldn’t hurt.” Wire patted you gently.

“So it’s decided,” Killer said. “You two make a plan for it, if there’s a problem, let me know.” He said that last part to you, you could feel it.

“Wonderful!” Wire smiled and you tried to mimic him, but it definitely looked like a scowl. Kid was frowning now as you were finally dismissed and practically ran off the boat.

“I’m getting a drink.” Kid announced, feeling pissy as he followed slowly after you. He pretended he didn’t hear Wire’s little chuckles.

You had a sizable lead on him by the time he actually dismounted, but he kept a close eye on you as you darted from stall to stall in the marketplace. It was a rare luxury to be able to choose from such a variety of stores, he found himself taking his time at certain spots. His bounty proceeds him so most places gave him a hefty discount, he grinned as he browsed a stall full of niche tools.

He hadn’t meant to get distracted from you, but he was conversing with the elderly man at the stall about which item would be the best suited for his style of work when a commotion from on the other side of the crowd started up. A man’s voice could be heard, cocky and forward. Kid could make out something about a date.

“Oh boy, looks like another young man is causing trouble.” The old man said tiredly.

“Huh?” Kid tried to peer over the crowd but the commotion was around a bend, obscuring his view.

“There’s a lot of very…insistent men around here.”

“Insistent? What the fuck does that mean.” The old man curled his lip at the cursing, but Kid was too busy being nosey to notice.

“You know, insistent…with the ladies. Especially in such a crowded place.” The man shrugged as Kid turned to sneer at him. “Try not to let it disturb your browsing. It’s a minor nuisance.”

“So you don’t try to stop it?” Kid felt himself getting angry. “Even though you know it’s a problem?”

“Not really, it really can’t be helped, especially with so many new, beautiful women coming though every day. The boys will grow out of it eventually.” The man chuckled, like he thought Kid would laugh too.

The red head snarled and shoved his way back onto the streets, easily knocking several people out of his path. He came upon the scene and nearly exploded.

Of course it was you giving him a damn head ache.

You were facing a tall, spindling young man. His face pinched in a frown as he tried to grab your arm again. You yanked your arm back, lips curled back in a sneer.

“Fuck off, I said I’m not interested.” You told the man, the crowd continued moving around you both as if they didn’t even notice. The man tried to step closer, you put your hand on your holstered knife, he paused.

“Come on now, a pretty thing like you ain’t gotta carry a knife.” You caught sight of Kid, relief flooding your face, until he started grinning.

“Nah,” Kid interrupted, stepping behind the guy. The scrawny man turned to glare at him but went pale when they made eye contact. “Pretty thing like her ‘as gotta carry a knife. Too many little shits out there tryin to be creeps ya know?” He grinned down at the guy, then walked to stand by you nudging you with his elbow.

“I think you should stab him.” Kid continued, eyes locked on you.

“Wait a min-“ The man starts.

“Unlike some people I actually try to keep a low profile on shore.” You ignore the man, glaring up at your captain. “Let’s just leave.” You move to walk off, but Kid grabs you by the belt loop, gently halting you.

“Who? Me?” He laughs, the crowd is thinning out as they sense his threatening presence. “Did you even tell him you were a pirate?” You shrugged, peering up at him now.

Oh shit, he wanted to show off for you.

“Woah a pirate?” The man, who Kid had honestly forgotten about, shouted. “No way you’re fucking lying!” Kid rolls his eyes.

“Fuck you’re annoying,” He drawls and raises his hand to the Bowie knife strapped across his chest. “I’m sick of hearing you talk. If she won’t kill ya, I sure as fuck will.” The man jumps back, knocking into someone, Kid starts to move towards him but your hand on his arm stops him.

That’s right, I’m supposed to make her not scared of me.

His pause gives the creep enough to run off blubbering and the crowd of people come forward to occupy his now empty place. Kid nervously glances down at you, wondering how much he set your relationship back. He was met with your bored stare.

“Seriously? We’ve been on shore for what? And hour?”

“Hey don’t lecture me, I’m the captain I’ll do whatever the fuck I want.” He grumbled, but allowed you to lead him down the street. Your hand was still on his arm, the one not covered by his coat, and the feeling makes him flush.

“You are, but everyone’s gonna be pissed if we have to deal with Marines already.” You press into his arm now to direct him down a smaller path. It’s less crowded so you let go of him and give a little space, he tries not to yank you back to him.

“Whatever, can’t believe you let that fucker live.” He knew he should leave it alone and just be glad you didn’t run scared from him. But he couldn’t help poking at that bear.

“If I killed every creep that flirts with me, I’d be in jail.” You chuckle a little, one look at your captain though and he looks pissed.

“Who the fuck is flirting with you all the time?” He barks and you bristle.

Oops.

He realized now it kinda sounded like he didn’t think you were attractive enough to be flirted with.

“So two seconds ago you were calling me pretty. Now I’m not?” You tried not to feel insulted but… it stung a little. You don’t know why, but you didn’t like the thought that Kid found you unattractive. It’s nothing.

“That’s not what I meant!” He tried to argue, but you spotted Heat waiting outside a bar ahead. So you took the easy way out and sped up to a jog. Kid kept his pace, but followed after you, desperate to make his case.

“Heat!” You called out and hugged your friend.

“Took ya long enough,” The stitched man smiled, then did a double take as Kid trailed behind you. “Hey captain. What’re you doing here?”

“We ran into each other,” You said dismissively, pulling Heat to the bar’s entrance. “Do they have food? I’m fucking starving.”

“Yeah I think so.” Heat glanced back to watch Kid follow you both in. “He good?” He asked you in a hushed tone as you sat down at a booth in the corner. Heat stood glancing between the two of you.

“Probably?” You shrugged. “There was a guy I got into it with, he’s probably pissed I didn’t kill him.”

Heat slid into the bench opposite from you, as Kid sat at the bar. The place wasn’t busy, but late afternoon would fade away into night soon and it’d be packed. The bartender served Kid then came over to get your order.

“Hey I remember you!” He said as he pointed at you. “You were here a few weeks ago, yeah?” You smiled politely and nodded, Heat had a guarded expression, but the guy just took your orders and left for the kitchen. Kid glanced back at you as you sipped your beer.

“Weird that he remembered us.” Heat started, you chuckled.

“I mean, you and captain are pretty memorable.”

Heat grunted but didn’t continue. The time passed by quickly, you and Heat ate and drank your beers. Slowly more patrons started trickling in, mostly your crew but some locals too. At some point you pulled out a deck of cards and started a no stakes game with Heat, hoping to improve your skills.

Kid was suspiciously quiet, you’d glance at him often, but he just drank in solitude. Occasionally a crew mate would come up and chat with him, but when they left he’d just fall silent again. He glanced at you about as often as you did him, until Killer finally joined on the stool next to him.

“Pay attention before I make us play Go Fish.” Heat admonished you, your face turned red.

“Jokes on you I’m a shark at Go Fish.” You grin at him despite the shame of being caught.

As the night finally kicks off and nearly the entire crew, minus those on ship watch, are here, you and Heat finish your game. He splits off to find Wire and you go up to the bar for some stronger drinks. There were no open spots so you tapped on Killer’s shoulder, he made space between him and Kid. You waved at the bartender, having to stand on the barstool’s foot rest to be tall enough.

“What can I get you, gorgeous?” The man asks smoothly. Both men beside you tense, but you through your head back in a laugh, the previous drinks got you a little more comfortable.

“Can I get 2 shots of whiskey and a rum and coke?”

“Of course!” The bartender starts working on that, you keep an eye on him as Killer leans to speak with Kid over your head. You can’t really hear them, but ignore to focus on the man making your drinks. “Here you go.” He places the 3 glasses down and you put a few Berries on the counter, Kid swipes them back to you quickly.

“Hey!” You and the bartender say at once, your captain sneers then throws down his own Berries.

“Shut up both of ya!” He avoids your eyes and tucks back into his drink. Killer let’s off a restrained chuckle, you can feel it more than hear it against your side. You shrug, ready to let your captain’s weird behavior go if it meant free drinks, the bartender though didn’t seem as willing.

“Aw what a gentleman,” He grins at you. “Here I thought chivalry was dead.” Kid glowered at him, but Killer shook his head, which made the redhead frown harder.

“Thanks, Boss!” You say to ease the tension, then offer him one of the shots. “This was for Heat but he ditched me, you want it?” He regards you for a moment and takes the shot without a word. He grunts at the burn and watches you take yours then take a quick sip of your coke to chase it. Killer let’s out a brisk goodbye and vacates his seat, yanking you onto it.

“This shit is cheap, let me get some of that.” He gestures to your glass, normally he wouldn’t need a chaser, but he didn’t want you running off just yet. Or worse, talking with the stupid bartender again, who seems to be hovering around you. You slide him the drink, he takes a sip and grimaces again. “Fuck that’s strong, got what? Like an spit’s worth of coke?” You nod.

“Yeah it’s kinda strong,” You make a face as you take another sip. “Maybe I just gotta stir it.” You swirl it with a straw from the bar and try again. Nope, still strong.

“Tryin’ to get her drunk fast?” Kid shoots at the bartender, who pretends like he wasn’t listening.

“Does the lady not like her drink? I can certainly remake it for you.” He ignores Kid to speak with you, who is steadily considering murder. You wave his question off.

“Nah, it’s fine.” You’d rather just drink it, this guy was really annoying Kid and it was better if he just gave you some space.

“If you change your mind~” He winks at you and you fight back a laugh. This guy was over the top with his flirting. “Just let me know, my name is Jon.” He finally walked off to service some more patrons, the second bartender, an older woman, arrived to help with the orders.

“Fucking annoying ass dick head.” Kid mutters, you roll you eyes, but he doesn’t see it.

“He seemed nice enough.” You said lazily, eyes scanning the crowd as you stir your drink again. “Kinda cute too.”

“What? Seriously?” Kid looks you up and down like you’ve grown another head.

“Yeah, he’s nice at least.” You shrug.

“Gross. You’re way outta his league.” He needs to shut up, right now.

You’re stiff again, suddenly remembering his insult earlier. He can feel the change in you and quickly looks away, staring at his beer like it would hide him.

“Whatever.” You hop off the stool and go to leave, his hand grips your upper arm tightly. You flinch and tense, his grip softens but doesn’t leave, you let him pull you back onto the stool.

“That wasn’t what I meant… Earlier.” He said slowly, his hand slips down to hold your forearm.

“When you said I wasn’t pretty enough to be flirted with?” You clarified for him, he scowled but tried to force it away.

“I never said that!” He cuts himself off. “Look, you’re plenty pretty. I just meant that creeps shouldn’t be bothering you, ya know?” He finishes lamely, heat on his face, trying to look at you. A pause hangs in the air and he finally looks at your face, you keep it neutral for a moment.

“So… you think I’m pretty?” You ask with a grin, he snatches his hand away from you with a growl. Your face is also red, but you poke his arm playfully. “What’s next? You gonna propose?” He flushes more and grits his teeth.

“Knock it off will ya! I’m trying to be nice for fucking once!” He bats your hand off of him, hoping he seems as annoyed. “Acting all hot and cold on me.”

“Calm down, Boss. You know I don’t mean anything by it.” You hold your hands up in mock surrender. His eyes cut to you then back to the crowd.

“Yeah, I know.”

#one piece #one piece smut #eustass kid #one piece kid #eustass x reader #kid x reader

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