#step one: make it gayer

[mythgendered]

i like these games a Normal Amount, and naem can attest the growing pile of unposted fanart is testament to just the tip of the iceberg of Normal ive been about my most recent (re)plays

#my art #digimon #digimon story cyber sleuth #cyber sleuth #hacker's memory #why play new videogames when i can just replay cyber sleuth that's what i always say #step one: make it gayer #step two: give all the girls pants

[cheeekycharchar]

AN ANGEL ON A MISSION

I just realized what Michael Sheen's face was doing during the end credits and OMFG he is beyond amazing! *o*

I already did an indepth analysis on why Aziraphale acted the way he did after that heart wrenching kiss scene.. but it wasn't until @charlotteharlatan post about the Nightingale song on the car's radio could have been that got my brain into a tizzy.

"Many people, meeting Aziraphale for the first time, formed three impressions: that he was English, that he was intelligent, and that he was gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide. Two of these were wrong."

Many people paint Aziraphale as this gullible innocent character but don't forget.. he is highly intelligent. Completely traumatized by his past abusive relationship with Heaven but intelligent.

When Metatron told him of their Second Coming plan.. how quickly he put things together before stepping onto that elevator. He turns toward Crowley to give him one last look and heads up to Heaven.

And for the next minute.. we watch as Michael Sheen micro-contorts his expression through the stages of grief.

Shock from hearing Heaven's plans for the Second Coming. Anger for realizing what he was just tricked into doing. Despair for what he gave up when he thought he was making the right choice. And then reorganizing his thoughts and acceptance of his current situation. And that final smirk.. ;) oh.. OH! That is the face of an Angel on a mission against Heaven. And he's already made up his mind. Stop Heaven's plans (again). Get revenge on them for forcing him into this situation. And of course, to get his Crowley back.

GO S3 is gonna be INSANE :D

#Good Omens #GO2 #Good Omens speculation #Good Omens theory #Aziraphale #Crowley #ineffable husbands #Good Omens meta #I AM SO READY FOR S3.. MY MIND WON'T STOP #GO2 spoilers #hmm.. maybe “revenge” is too strong of a word.. but it's what they need lol

[hyypnotix-writes]

Part 2

~ hiya! I'm really nervous about posting this, but I couldn't not at least try to give you a second part after the response the last one got! ~

~ I really appreciate everyone reading it and enjoying it as much as you did ..I hope this one doesn't ruin it for you! ~

~ I think this one's around 13k words. so again ..it's a long one, if you have nothing else to do! ~

~ there’s quite a lot of story before Alexia makes an appearance, sorry ..but she does eventually show up! ~

~ I promise to put more of her in the next part if any of you end up wanting one ~

~ I’m really worried this will disappoint a lot of you, but at least you still have the first part to go back to, if nothing else! ~

~ I really hope you're able to enjoy it even just a little bit, and thanks again for loving the first part so much! the response was very overwhelming and I've loved you all reaching out to tell me that you liked it ~

~ good luck! good bye xx ~

~ Part 1 ~

________________

One night.  

One perfect night.  

That’s all it took.  

One perfect night to throw your whole damn life into disarray.  

One perfect night, that’s lead to endless subsequent nights, spent tossing and turning on your own, replaying the memory over on a loop in your mind. It’s only been about a month, but it feels like an eternity.  

A never-ending, exhausting cycle of yearning and confusion.  

It was the most welcome distraction from your ex-boyfriend’s evil escapades, you’ve not really thought about him at all since. 

It should have set you free, broken you out of the chains of mundanity. It showed you a whole new world, a world of women. It gave you a new perspective on life. Unlocked a realm of brand-new possibilities all ready and waiting for you to venture, and yet, you don’t want to explore any of them.  

It's not that you haven’t tried.  

You’d have been an idiot to assume that it’s only her that can make you feel like this. That would be giving her an awful lot of credit. Yes, she was your first woman, but that didn’t mean that she needed to be your last. The way your mind and body reacted to her, maybe you could have been slightly gayer than you thought, but it doesn’t really look to be the case.  

A pair of lesbian sisters always seemed incredibly unlikely to you, and your sister’s already called dibs on the label. Maybe it’s the mere existence of your younger sister that eradicates the possibility of any real queerness in yourself. That’s probably how the handing out of sexualities works, right? 

It’s a working theory, and one that you seem to be proving the accuracy of.  

You’ve been to a few more clubs since your entanglement with the Spanish mystery. Only returning back to that specific one, once. It gave you a headache just stepping through the door. She was still everywhere in the room, her spirit living in the walls. You barely managed to stay inside for even a second before it became too much for you, sending your heart and mind racing.  

You took yourself back home, reminiscing every single kiss you’d shared with her on that fanciful journey back to her hotel together. Looking up at the floor she had been staying on, as you hastily walked past it on your own.  

Even the nightclubs that aren’t haunted by her ghost, haven’t yielded much greater success with you. 

You paid a visit to a smaller bar, a fair few nights after your perfect one, and had found a woman interested in you. More than interested. She was pretty, and friendly enough. She was flirty and bought you a few drinks. She didn’t try to play it weird by aiding you in your consumption of alcohol. There was no intriguing salt and lime foreplay. She was far more straightforward, far less irritating.  

Maybe that’s why it didn’t work. Maybe she was too plain. Maybe she was too simple and easy for you to understand. Or maybe it’s the fact that when she pressed herself against you in search of a kiss, an alarm bell rang out inside of your head. You suddenly found yourself all too aware that she was a woman, and you simply no longer wanted to follow through with your curiosities.  

It doesn’t help in your confusion, why the femininity of one woman can leave you feeling more certain of your straightness, while another’s femininity has you still helplessly pining after her.  

It’s not like you were under any illusion with the Spanish woman. You were entirely aware that she was also a woman, and it wasn’t off putting to you at all. You enjoyed her being a woman. She smelt nice, she tasted nice. Her body was beautiful, and her lips were soft, and it doesn’t make any sense that she’s allowed to put a yearning in you that no other woman is able to satisfy.  

That does seem very typical of her, though. She really was very cocky and frustrating.ﾠﾠ

Until she wasn’t, of course.  

Then, she was just sweet and considerate. Cautious and careful. Flirty and undemanding. She took you back to hers and she still had no expectations from you. She was still willing to let you walk away. Maybe you should have.ﾠﾠ

You knew even then that you should have.  

It was daft of you to follow after her. Foolish to lose yourself with her, spending the night together, giggling under the sheets. Sharing kisses as you drowned yourselves in each other. Learning her body, every mark, scar and freckle, and committing them all to your memory. Tracing her curves and her tattoos and discovering what it is that makes her tick.ﾠ

She was patient, and understanding, she wasn’t in a rush with you. She spent the whole night exploring with you. Studying your body, wanting to learn all the things you liked her doing, and the things you really liked her doing. She turned what could have been a terrifying, embarrassing, disaster of an experience, into the most incredible encounter of your life.  

She brought you more pleasure than your pathetic ex-boyfriend had ever managed to give you in your whole 5-year relationship, in less than 5 minutes of her having your clothes off. She had the most unholy of noises spilling from your lips with her fingers and tongue inside of you, and she wasn’t exactly quiet herself, in letting you know when you were doing the right thing with her.  

She was intoxicating, exhilarating. She was life-affirming.  

She’s a far more dangerous addiction to you than alcohol could ever manage to be. You’ve never been tempted by drugs before, but you can’t even imagine the high from them being able to compete against what she’s done to you.  

It was just one night.  

It was one perfect night.  

________________

Living back with your younger sister isn’t exactly where you saw yourself being at 26. Your London flat had started feeling a little too big for you, without a traitorous arsehole of a man invading your space. So, you invited her to move in with you, not wanting to have to give up your dream property just because he had decided to try ruining your life. You needed help with the rent, and she had gratefully accepted.  

You didn’t necessarily expect her to also invite her idiot new girlfriend into your home with her. That wasn’t really part of the deal, though you didn’t explicitly tell her that she couldn’t. You can’t really blame her. If you were able to spend every waking moment of your life with ‘A’ right beside you, you’d jump at the opportunity headfirst.   

It still doesn’t aid in the dispelling of your confusion. There’s no jealousy when you see them together. Her girlfriend does nothing for you, none of her girlfriends ever have. You both have decidedly different tastes in women. Your sister’s taste is entirely questionable, yours is perfection.  

You haven’t mentioned your Spanish predicament to your sister. She’d probably laugh at you for it, call you tragic, and embarrassing. Tell you everything you’ve already been telling yourself on repeat in your head. She wouldn’t be very helpful; she very rarely is. She’s your very annoying, smart-arse of a little sister, who couldn’t possibly give you any decent advice. She’s 2 years younger than you and she's an idiot.  

She’s not the one who’s still hung up on a stranger after over a month, though. It’s rarely taken her longer than 24 hours to get over someone she’s been with. She’s not the one who’s been questioning herself every night. She’s never questioned herself at all. You’re fairly certain her very first thought, straight out of the womb was about another woman.  

She didn’t really have to come out to the family at any point, she kissed her first girl when she was 8. Always been a bit of a Casanova, your sister. A walking stereotype of a lesbian. Short, brightly coloured, undercut hair, quite a few piercings, heavily tattooed. She’s obsessed with women’s football, always watching re-runs of ‘The L Word,’ and overwhelmingly insistent in trying to prove to you that Taylor Swift is also secretly gay.  

Your sister’s certainty in her own sexual identity isn’t something that’s ever irritated you before. Not when you were always so sure of yourself, too. You appreciated her confidence. It was admirable, given the way people can be with her. She’s your self-assured little sister, who isn’t great at confrontation. So, you support her whenever anyone tries to tear her down.  

Now, however, this too-late-in-life existential crisis you’re struggling with, has you wishing she’d try to be a little bit more questioning herself. Her surety and cockiness about her sexuality is suddenly the most prominent attribute of her personality, and it’s really starting to drive you up the wall.  

It’s a rare evening where it’s only the two of you at home together. You don’t really know where her girlfriend is, and you don’t much care. You only feel responsible for one annoying lesbian, the one who shares your surname.  

She’s being rather antisocial with you, playing video games alone in her bedroom, and you’ve just finished tidying up the dining table after sharing the dinner you cooked for you both. You’re not exactly sure how you’ve found yourself solo parenting your stroppy little sibling when you’re really not much older than her yourself, but there you go.  

Maybe you should try speaking to her. See what she can possibly offer you by way of sapphic guidance. If she’s going to continue having her nuisance girlfriend living here rent-free, she should at least try giving you something to make it worth your while.  

You walk straight through to her bedroom and collapse your head onto her stomach on the bed. Making sure to do so with just enough force behind it to ensure you manage to leave her winded and interrupt her gaming. She grunts under you, and you earn an overly aggressive smack to your shoulder for achieving your goal. As, whatever other little child she’s playing her game against, has just managed to score past her.  

“You’re a twat!” She scolds, and you backhand her face to shut her up. She raises her fist above your stomach, and you flinch, bracing for impact.  

“I have a question!” You shout, before she has chance to attack.  

She pauses her lifted fist above you, and reluctantly agrees to a truce, providing your question is of interest to her. “What?” She groans, and you fiddle with your fingers, trying to find the right wording.  

“Why do you like women?” You ask, your face grimacing as you await her response.  

It isn’t your smoothest ever phrasing, not your wittiest form of delivery. It’s honestly, rather annoyingly, not the most subtle line of questioning. Despite it not being entirely to the point, your sister isn’t stupid.  

“What?” 

Oh ..maybe she is! 

That’s not going to be super helpful with your impending interrogation.  

“Why not men?” You suggest, still trying not to be too blatant. “How did you know you liked women?” 

“I looked at one.” She tells you, like it’s the most obvious answer in the world. “Why?” 

“Do you find every woman attractive?” 

“No, but I find enough of them attractive to sense a pattern.” She explains. “Why?” 

“And you’ve never been attracted to a man? Not even tempted?” 

“No. Not once. Why?” 

“Never ever?” 

“Y/N!” 

“I was just wondering.” You tell her quickly, drumming your fingers on top of your stomach.  

“About women?” She queries. 

“About ..why women. What it is about them.” 

“Aside from the obvious?” She snickers, nudging your arm.  

You quickly bounce your head back against her stomach winding her again.  

“Stop doing that!” 

“Stop being annoying!” You warn her. Your frustration at yourself getting the better of you.

She tries to push you off of her, but you mess with the analogue sticks on her controller, and she turns her focus back to salvaging her match. “You really are a twat! Get out!” 

“I need your help.” 

“I don’t care!” 

“..I’m sorry.” You mumble, and she scoffs at you, pushing you off of her bed unceremoniously.  

You can’t say you blame her, you’re a constant threat to her in that position, it’s too big of a risk. You enjoy bouncing your head and ruining her childish little game far too much.  

“Why do you like men?” She counters, and you find yourself stuck for words as you sit on her floor.  

It’s the question that’s been floating around your own head for a little while now. You’d never thought about it before. You just were. You had crushes on them all throughout your childhood, you’d had meaningless boyfriends in your teens, you met your bastard ex at university and figured that was it.  

You didn’t need to question why you were attracted to them, it just always made sense.  

“I don’t know.” You answer honestly, letting out a groan as you grab one of her pillows and bury your head into it.  

“What’s going on?” She asks, as she prods at your shoulder with her foot.  

“Nothing. I was just—” 

“Thinking about women?” 

“No!”  

It isn’t really a lie, you’re not thinking about women, just the one. The one woman who’s been invading all of your thoughts for the past 30 something days. The one who won’t let you sleep properly at night, who won’t let you focus completely at work.  

The one woman who refuses to leave your head for even a second just to let you rest, to let you breathe, to let you remember what life was like, prior to her entering it and recklessly setting fire to everything, before she ran away from you and disappeared into thin air.ﾠﾠ

“I kissed one.” You confess, trying to suffocate yourself with her pillow.  

This really does take her by surprise. You can hear her movements on top of the mattress as she turns her game off and pulls her pillow from you with a rather startling urgency. There’s great confusion on her face as she looks at you. She really must think you’re very boring if that’s enough to render her speechless. Imagine her reaction if you admitted to all the other things you did to the Spanish enigma.  

“You kissed a woman?” She asks, frowning at you.  

You’re not entirely sure why she looks quite so cross about it. You’re not trying to steal her thunder here. You’re not about to start trying to catch up with her numerous exploits of female companions.  

“Mhmm.” You mumble in reply, smoothing your hair back from over your face.  

“Why? For a man?” 

“No! I just wanted to ..I thought it’d be fun.” 

“..and ..was it?” 

“Mhmm.” 

She looks at you with a very distinct air of incredulity. It’s a rather annoying look, weirdly condescending. She doesn’t believe you. Why she thinks you’d bother lying about it, you really do not know. You’re not that desperate for a story to tell her.  

It’s almost offensive that she thinks you’re so incapable. You didn’t just kiss a woman. You went down on one, you had your fingers inside of her. You evoked moans from her, she scratched her nails down your back. You’re not some virginal prude. You’re not inept. It can’t be that shocking and inconceivable that you could share a single kiss with someone of the same sex.  

You were right, telling your sister was pointless. She’s offered you no assistance and no support. She’s a useless little waste of space and her horrible girlfriend is an advantage-taking little freeloader.  

“Thanks, very much! This was really helpful!”  

Your words are laced in sarcasm as you slide yourself up away from her bed with a sigh, throwing your middle finger up back in her direction as you exit the room, and slam her bedroom door shut behind you.   

You slam your own bedroom door shut behind you too, just in case she hadn’t picked up on how pissed off you are.  

You’re not really pissed off with her. She doesn’t know what’s going on inside of your head. You’re pissed off with yourself, for still being all entirely far too consumed with a woman whose name you do not know. Who wouldn’t even bother sharing her profession with you. It isn’t fair.  

You collapse headfirst onto your bed and let out a rather guttural groan into your duvet. You’re very frustrated. Your brain’s a mess, your sexuality’s up in the air, and you allowed yourself to picture, far too clearly, your memories of having sex with the gorgeous Spanish woman and now that ache that she’d put inside of you is back.  

There’s a knock at your door, and you’re not in the mood. You grab your duvet and burrito yourself in it down to the foot of your bed.  

“Y/N?”  

You don’t even grace your sister with a response. She doesn’t deserve it. She’s a swine.  

No, but she really is a swine, as you can hear her turning the doorknob and just walking right into your bedroom anyway. She’s really, unbelievably terrible at reading social cues.  

“Do you want to come to Spain with me next week?” 

See what I mean? What the hell?  

That’s a very serendipitous little offer, though. You didn’t even mention to her that the woman that you kissed was Spanish.  

Did you?  

She can’t have worked that out by herself. That would be insane. She’s already proved herself to not be the sharpest tool in the shed. That wouldn’t make any sense. What an intriguing little invitation.  

It’s very embarrassing that just the mention of the country sends a shiver down the back of your neck. All this instant adrenaline running through you, as if she’ll just be waiting for you there as soon as you land down in a random Spanish airport. Yeah, that seems likely!  

Spain’s not the biggest country in the world, but it certainly isn’t small. You’re not going to accidentally stumble into her again on the beach, or in a marketplace. She’s definitely not going to be staying in the same hotel that you’d be in.  

It shouldn’t have your heart racing like this. The chances of finding her again are so infinitesimally small, so extremely impossible, so overwhelmingly unlikely ..but you do stand a better chance, if you’re in the right country.  

“Next week?” You mumble under the sheets, playing it incredibly cool, as you try to ignore the way your heart’s started thumping at a thousand beats per minute.  

“Yeah.” 

“I thought you were going away with your girlfriend?” 

“..we broke up.” 

Shit. She would make this all about herself.  

You wiggle yourself free of your duvet cocoon and open up your arms for her to crash into you. She might be a useless little swine, but she’s your useless little swine. “Are you okay?”  

“Mhmm.” She grumbles, as she starfishes herself on top of you.  

“I’m sorry.” 

“No, you’re not. You never liked her.” 

“That’s not true.” You protest half-heartedly, kissing the side of her head.  

“I am fine ..I broke up with her.” 

“Well, thank fuck for that!” 

“See!” She laughs, rolling off the side of you. “You hated her!” 

“She was horrible!” 

“You could’ve said.” 

“You wouldn’t have left her if I told you to. You’d be getting bloody married to the girl. Twat.” She giggles defencelessly next to you on the bed, because you’re absolutely right. She has always been a contrarian little thing. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Yeah. I’ll find someone else tomorrow.” 

“Unbelievable.” You chuckle, shaking your head as you push her away. “You can’t just give me her ticket. Did she not pay for it?” 

The embarrassed little look on your sister’s face is all the wordless response you need. Her girlfriend never paid for anything. She really was an advantage-taking little freeloader.  

“Where are you going in Spain?” 

“Barcelona.” 

“Why?” 

“Football.” 

“Oh! Give me a break!” You exclaim and roll down away from her back to the foot of the bed. “Why are you going all the way to Spain just to watch some football? You can bloody watch it here.” 

“It’s the Champions League!” She informs you excitedly, and you can’t even pretend to match her enthusiasm. “Chelsea’s playing Barcelona.” 

“Woo.” You respond flatly, rolling your eyes with a shake of your head. “You watched them play together today, didn’t you? Why are they so bloody obsessed with each other? Even I know there’s more teams than that.” 

“It’s the second leg..” She starts explaining, but none of it means anything to you, and you really just can’t bring yourself to care.  

Going all the way out to Spain to be stuck inside a stadium with thousands of screaming fans? What sort of holiday is that? You don’t care about Chelsea’s success or failure. Your sister’s dirty crush on their star-striker is just another one of her many celebrity infatuations that you can’t make any sense of.  

You don’t want to sit next to her as she gets herself all hot and bothered watching women run around a football pitch. You don’t even enjoy watching men do it, you have no interest in watching women.  

“No. I’m good, thanks.” You tell her, dismissively.  

“Please? We can do more than just watch the football.” She offers, pouting pathetically. “You have to come with me! I’ve just been dumped!”  

“No, you haven’t!” You remind her, laughing at her useless attempt at guilt tripping. “And you haven’t really left me much time to negotiate with work.” 

“You work too hard and you’re due some time off! Your boss isn’t going to refuse you, just bat your eyelashes at him. The filthy pervert.” 

“Hm.” You mumble, drumming your fingers over your stomach as you think.  

She isn’t wrong, about you working hard, at least. You do like to bury yourself in your work. You enjoy your job, and the harder you work, the more you earn. You haven’t had time off in a while, and your boss is unlikely to say no to you, you are his favourite employee. You don’t agree that it’s because he has a crush on you, you get good results for the company, and attract lucrative clientele.  

If batting your eyelashes could get you back in the arms of your Spanish one-night stand more easily, though, you’re not above flirting with him to get you there. You could take a few days of leave, go off to Spain, and possibly run into the woman who’s been living inside of your head.  

It’s such an incredibly remote possibility. An absolute stab in the dark chance of finding her. She probably isn’t even in Barcelona. You’re not cultured enough to be able to pin her accent to a specific city. She’s just Spanish. There’s much more places in Spain than just Barcelona. Barcelona isn’t even the capital. Maybe she’s in Madrid, Valencia, Marbella. She could be a party girl living on the island of Ibiza, you had originally found her in a bar. You don’t get a body like hers drinking yourself senseless every night, though.  

What if you do find her, and she wants nothing to do with you? There was only ever the promise of one night together. You already pushed your luck by spending the rest of the morning with each other, she doesn’t owe you anything more. It’s unlikely that she’s been spiralling quite as pathetically as you have. She’s not going to be fending off a sexuality migraine.  

You undoubtedly won’t have been the absolutely mind-blowing experience to her, that she was to you. She’ll have had sex with countless women. She definitely enjoyed herself with you, that much you’re certainly sure of. You can’t fake every bodily reaction to someone, but the rest of it could have been for show. The display of heartbreak afterwards.  

So, maybe she’s an actress, that would certainly make sense. It would explain why she had money, and why she had a company paying for her hotel. Maybe that was her little ‘business trip’. Perhaps she was in London promoting a Spanish movie. Maybe the entire thing was all a performance, and you fell for it. Hook, line, and sinker.  

Either way, stalking her in Spain would be far too pathetic. Even if she does want you to find her, it’s so desperate and needy of you to go all that way, and if she doesn’t want you to find her, you end up looking insane. Travelling to Spain, to possibly just show up right there on her doorstep? What a terrifying thing for you to do to the woman.  

But what if it’s a sign? 

Your clueless little sister, inviting you all the way to Spain, with absolutely no idea that the woman you’re harbouring all of these confusing emotions for, lives there? Maybe it’s fate. Maybe it’s the universe trying to get you back together. Maybe she didn’t fake it, she does feel the same, you’ll find her in Spain and spend the rest of your lives together.  

Please. Behave and be so goddamn serious with yourself. You sweet and simple, delusional little fool.  

���The woman I kissed was from Spain.” You inform your sister thoughtfully, and she sits herself up on your bed to frown at you.  

“You’re still going with that?” 

“Why don’t you believe me?” 

“You’re straight. Straight straight straight.” She points out, with such an incredibly annoying inflection to her voice, it makes you want to bang your head against the wall. “You’re also 26. You were in love with an ugly bastard for 5 years and you’ve never shown an interest in a woman before.” 

“I hadn’t met her before.” 

“Gayyy!” She giggles, and you give her an almighty clack on her arm with the back of your hand, to wipe the smug little smile from off her face.  

“Go with the woman you’re hooking up with tomorrow.” You instruct her. “I’d be a nightmare to watch football with, you’d have to keep explaining things to me.” 

“I don’t mind doing that.” 

“Do you have no other friends to go with you?” You laugh and she pouts dramatically again, shaking her head. “You’re a lonely little loser!” You tell her with a smile.  

“Is that a ‘yes’?” She asks, rolling her eyes at you.  

You take in a deep breath and let out a very heavy sigh. 

What’s the worst that can happen?  

She’s already completely upturned your life. It couldn’t make things any worse for you. Whether you’re able to bump into her or not. You’ll either find yourself some peace, lounging in the Spanish sun, or you’ll be left in exactly the same position you’re in now, but with a much healthier glow to your skin.  

You could even find yourself a Spanish man while you’re out there.  

Mm.  

It’s really not a good sign for your heterosexuality, that that’s no longer an appealing option to you.  

“If I can sort it with work,” you reason, “yes. I’ll come to Barcelona with you.”  

She lets out an embarrassingly girly squeal and crashes her head against your stomach, with just enough force behind it to manage to leave you winded.  

“Twat! I’m making no promises about going to the game, mind. I’m just coming for the tan.” 

“Maybe your ‘Spanish lesbian’ is also a fan of football.” She encourages  

“Mhmm. I’m pretty sure she is.” You admit contemplatively. “Is that an entry-level of requirement for lesbianism, then?” You ask, rolling your eyes. “Because if that’s the case, I really can stop questioning myself.” 

________________

Booking time off work really is as easy as your sister thought it would be. Maybe your boss does have an inappropriate crush on you like she suspects. 

She’s very excited about having you for company, and she tries to educate you on all of Chelsea’s history, the players’ statistics, and their personal lives, all before you go on your little trip together. It really does just go right in one ear, and straight back out of the other. You’re not fussed on the facts and figures; it’s not why you’re going.  

There’s not enough room in your brain to care about the ins and outs of Sam Kerr and Kristie Mewis’ relationship. You’re not interested in the fact that Chelsea currently have 6 WSL titles, and are going for their fifth-straight one, and you really aren’t bothered that the semifinal’s first leg match against Barcelona ended in a draw.  

That is a fair amount of information for you to have retained already despite not being interested. Your sister really has been going on at you, you’re almost a footballing expert.  

Touching down late in the morning in Barcelona, you can’t pretend there isn’t a tiny part of you that’s letting yourself get a little carried away with dreaming. You’ve played through enough countless scenarios in your head of running into the Spanish wonder again back in London, of course your mind’s racing with the possibilities in Spain.  

You drop your bags off at the hotel your sister’s booked for you both, with the intention of heading back out to explore the city together. It’s a peculiar looking building, bright red, oddly shaped. She really never has been one for subtlety, it’s the perfect sort of accommodation for her.  

She insists on wanting to have a look at the Olympic Stadium before the big match, as well as seeing the state of Camp Nou’s renovations, and you really can’t indulge her any more than you already have. You probably will end up joining her for the game tomorrow, but you’re absolutely not walking around the outside of football grounds for fun.  

You’ve seen the exterior of Stamford Bridge more than your fair share of times, Wembley, the Emirates. There’s not that much difference between the lot of them, and they’ve never really been your favourite form of modern architecture.  

So, you agree to go your separate ways for your first afternoon in the city, you’ll meet back up with each other tonight.  

Playing tourist around the streets of Barcelona on your own, is quite an exciting little experience for you. You’re not very worried about getting lost, despite not speaking too much Spanish beyond the basics. Your hotel’s a distinctive looking building, it’s not going to be super difficult to find your own way back to it.  

You get a taxi further into the main hub of town and you’re able to mosey about with a rather unrestrained confidence, turning down tight alleyways and strolling aimlessly along multiple cobbled streets. You manage to find yourself being comfortably led astray, by allowing nothing more than just the warm gentle breeze to guide you as it blows against your body.  

It turns into a more casual exploration of the more authentic side of Barcelona away from most of the tourist hotspots. You have no real idea where you are, and you’re quite enjoying the small rush of adventure.  

A coffee is what you start craving, and you’re not exactly limited by options. Every other building on the peacefully quiet backstreet you’ve found yourself on, seems to be a tiny café. You could start ip dip doo-ing all the individual offerings, but that’s putting far too much consideration into it. You decide to go for the smallest one, the most unassuming. The best coffees always come from the places that aren’t trying to market themselves to any foreign tourists.  

A little bell rings out as you step through the door and the barista almost jumps out of his skin at the sight of you, he clearly isn’t used to getting anyone other than his regular patrons. You offer up your friendliest of smiles and a quick ‘hola’ to show him that you mean no harm, and you tap your finger gently on the countertop as you inspect the board behind his head.  

Choosing the littlest coffee shop might have been a tiny mistake because absolutely everything on the menu is written in what you can only assume, is a rather confusing variation of Spanish. You can’t back out now, the barista already has an adorably excited look on his face at having someone new in his little shop, you can’t break his heart like that.  

You study the chalk written on the board for entirely far too long, in the hope that the words will slowly start translating themselves for you. It doesn’t work, obviously. So, you take a punt at a random one of them, with the rather daring assumption that you haven’t just ordered yourself a troubling batch of Spanish poison.  

“¡Dos, por favor!” Comes a call from behind you, from a woman you surely do not know. It’s recognisably ballsy of her, almost rude.

Her words echo in your ears, as time stands still around you. You’d recognise that voice anywhere, with that unmistakable, and entirely enchanting, cocky little tone to it.  

You can’t really have found her so easily. Life’s never been that kind.  

You can feel your heart clattering around in your chest instantly. Like it’s trying to escape from your ribs, to go off and say hello to hers, all by itself. Your chest’s rising and falling intensely as your breathing shallows and picks up pace.  

It can’t be her; it can’t be. This city’s just absolutely full of Spanish women.

She holds out her card right over you to pay, gently resting her arm down onto your shoulder, and you’ve definitely seen that tattoo before. The ‘11’ printed on her wrist.  

She’d refused to explain the meaning when you’d asked her about it. She wouldn’t give you the backstory behind any of her tattoos. It was too personal; you weren’t allowed to know.  

She thought you might have really fallen for each other if you both started sharing too much information about yourselves, and you only had the single night to spend together.  

“It would be too painful.” She had reasoned with you.

That was very clever thinking on her part. She absolutely managed to prevent you from having an awful lot of heartache and suffering about the whole thing, by letting you know absolutely nothing about her..ﾠ

You still can’t bring yourself to turn around and look. Even though you know it must be her. It can’t be likely that there’s multiple Spanish women that have branded themselves with that specific number on that specific part of their body. Surely to god.  

“..gracias.” You manage to choke out very shakily, in little more than a whisper, still facing forward.  

You have to turn around at some point. You can’t very well drink your coffee on the tiny little counter right in front of the barista when you can’t even have a conversation with him. Just staring at him, silently, neither of you able to speak each other’s language? That would freak him out! You’ll find yourself back on a plane headed for England before you know it, with a restraining order hanging over your head.  

Grow up and turn around. Just turn around.  

It’s her. It has to be her.  

The barista accepts the woman’s payment method with a familiar little smile back at her, and she carefully retracts her arm from over your shoulder slowly. You can smell her perfume on her wrist as it wafts back past the side your face. You recognise the scent, and you find yourself following it round you like a lost little puppy, your knees almost giving way beneath you.  

You didn’t accidentally stumble upon her at the beach. It’s not a Spanish marketplace. She definitely isn’t staying at the same hotel that you’re in.  

You’ve found her, while getting yourself lost. In the tiniest little café, on an unnamed, tumbleweed backstreet, right in the very heart of Barcelona.  

There’s a wide smile of disbelief on her face. Which is hopefully an indication, that she isn’t terrified of you being here, she hadn’t faked her feelings, and she, much like you are with her, is a little overwhelmed to see you.  

“Hi.” Is all that drops out of your mouth, as your mind goes blank at the sight of her.  

“Hi.” She says back, with the exact same breathlessness as you, her voice cracking ever so slightly.  

“….Hi.” 

“You’ve already said that.” She reminds you, and she’s clearly able to bring herself back to her senses far more quickly than you are, because there’s that charming little smirk tugging at the corner of her lips again.  

You’re not really sure which one of you instigated it, you both just sort of ended up colliding into each other, gripping at the material of each other’s clothes. It’s a very desperate hug. Even more so than the one you shared outside of the hotel elevator. You melt into each other, merging yourselves together like two corresponding puzzle pieces.  

It’s an embrace, holding not just the 12 hours of curious devotion between you, but over 30 days' worth of frenzied yearning. It has you both clinging to each other with everything you have, as it defies everything you came to accept as truly achievable, that heartbreaking belief in you, that this reunion would never really happen.  

It’s an impossible hug, and it’s one that neither of you want to pull away from. 

“What are you doing here?” You mumble against her, clinging to her shirt as she buries her head in the crook of your neck.  

“I think it should be me asking that question.” She tells you, chuckling. “I have far more right to be in Barcelona than you do.” 

“This is where you live?” You ask. “You’re from Barcelona?” 

“Mhmm.” She murmurs. “Mollet del Vallès.” 

There’s really no reason for that to be the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard. It’s only a place name. It’s a good job she didn’t spend much time speaking Spanish to you back in London, you really would have been like putty in her hands.  

“What are you doing here?” She questions.  

“I thought you might want your sweatshirt back.” You joke casually, and she loosens her grip on you slightly so she can face you.  

“Do you not want it anymore?” She asks, furrowing her brow as she studies your face. 

There’s a clear look of uncertainty in her eyes, a small sense of worry, and you do feel mildly guilty for teasing her. “I was hoping ..maybe I could swap it for another.” You smile. “It doesn’t really smell like you anymore.”

She doesn’t allow you to feel guilty for too long. That small air of arrogance that’s always threatening to escape her, does so, in a predictable little smirk at the implication.  

“You’ve been wearing it that much?” She asks you proudly, and you push your tongue against the inside of your mouth as you roll your eyes at her typical display of cockiness. She carefully closes the small distance between you both again, gently pressing herself flush against you. “Does it smell of you?” She whispers in your ear, sending a ripple of goosebumps down the side of your neck. 

“Mhmm.” 

“Mm. Maybe I could be persuaded to make a trade, then.” 

She’s impossible for you to resist when she’s like this. It’s still an intriguing talent she has, evoking such a physical reaction from you, by doing hardly anything at all. A quiet little whisper in your ear and your body’s immediately burning up next to her? You’re still so incredibly tragic.  

You might no longer be certain of your sexuality, but maybe it really doesn’t matter. Why do you need to understand it? Why does it need an explanation? No one else in the world is important at all when she’s standing here in front of you. No one else would ever really stand a chance. How could you ever be interested in anyone else, when you know that this woman right here exists? How could any other person ever truly compare? 

There’s a desire in you that’s clearly also felt in her, when she moves herself to look at you. It’s written all over her face, the twinkle in her beautiful eyes, and the fact that her lips are so incredibly close to yours.  

You lean in, and so does she, but it’s like something quickly shoots through her body, as though she’s suddenly being brought back into the room. She does a quick scan of the café, and she collects herself before she lets you both get carried away.  

“We can’t kiss in here.” She tells you quietly, and you frown at her as you pull yourself back.  

“Why not?” You ask, doing your own quick search to try and find what she saw to put her off.  

No one seems too interested in you, though there’s admittedly a couple of people discreetly watching her. She is very beautiful, so it’s not surprising, but you do sort of wish they’d stop their gawking. This gorgeous woman is here with you, and you’re not really in the mood for sharing.

“There’s not another bloody homophobe about, is there?” 

“No!” She laughs, shaking her head. “Well, I don’t know, actually. I haven’t asked around, but we just ..can’t kiss in here.” 

It’s curious. She didn’t have any issues kissing you in front of people before. Spanish people are very famously more physically affectionate with each other than British people are. So, it seems unlikely that the two of you would turn too many heads just by kissing.  

“Okay..” you accept reluctantly, pouting a little at the rejection, “so ..should we just quickly nip outside to do it then, or?” You joke cheekily, pointing to the door with your thumb.

She chuckles with you, resting her forehead to your shoulder. “You’re still as straight as ever!” She grins, as she wraps you back up in her arms.  

It’s quite nice just losing yourself in her embrace. Burying your head in her neck and holding her tight against you. Having her arms back around you, her perfume overwhelming your senses. The rest of the coffee shop fades into a blur with her in your arms. She’s comforting, reassuring. She’s real, and she’s here.  

“Ale!” Is called out by the barista not a minute later, and you’d have very happily paid it no attention at all. The immediate flinch from the woman that you’re holding, in response to it, however, tells you that you might have just found out a very valuable piece of information indeed.  

You repeat it under your breath, as she pulls away from you and goes to collect your coffees from the counter.  

She says a quiet ‘moltes gràcies’ to the barista, and she narrows her eyes with a small grimace as she returns to you. There’s still a clear reluctance in her to give too much away, she’s not entirely grateful to her little coffee friend for unknowingly revealing slightly more to you than just her first initial.  

Ale. It must still be short for something, you figure. You start reeling off name possibilities at her in quick succession. Alessia, Alex, Alexis, Alexa. You’re like a dog with a bone, because she makes it clear that you’re getting closer, but she still shakes her head at every guess.  

It’s very frustrating, as she offers you absolutely no assistance with your guessing, but it can’t be as convoluted a mission as trying to discover Rumpelstiltskin’s ridiculous name. Thankfully, it isn’t. It’s on only your 5th attempt that you cause the same small flinch in her, and she smiles softly at you before looking down very quickly. You’ve struck gold.  

Alexia. 

It’s a beautiful name. Your favourite name, you’ve decided. It rolls off your tongue with so much ease, you want to repeat it again and again. 

“Now you know too much.” She sighs whimsically, handing you your coffee as she walks past you to collect her bag from the table she was previously sitting at.  

She gestures for you to follow her and leads you to a quieter area away from the other customers right at the back of the shop. She pulls out your chair for you to sit down, and you can’t not smile at the tiny act of chivalry. She really is very sweet. It’s a shame that she won’t let you kiss her.  

You reveal your own name to her, as she joins you on the other side of the table and she repeats it back to you quietly. Whether it’s the sexy Spanish accent, or just the fact that it’s her saying it to you for the first time, you’re not entirely sure, but your heart skips a few beats after hearing it. 

“Now we both know too much.” She tells you, and she takes a small sip of her coffee.  

There’s the tiniest level of nervousness, that blankets itself over you both as you sit together. It’s a little absurd, you’ve seen this woman naked. She’s seen you naked. It isn’t technically a first date between you, neither of you asked the other to be here, but you both clearly have the little jitters of being on one, coursing through your bodies.  

You find yourself just watching her a few times as you talk over your drinks together. You still can’t really believe you found her so quickly. So, you don’t want to risk taking your eyes off of her for too long, in case she just disappears into thin air while you’re not looking.  

She’s also the most beautiful sight in the café. So, why would you want to waste your time looking at anything else? 

You’re not being very discreet about your staring at all, and neither is she, really. You keep exchanging shy smiles over your cups as you catch each other looking. Both of you blushing and quickly averting your eyes as they meet, and then gradually repeating the whole thing all over again. You’ve definitely caught her gazing a few more times than she’s caught you. So, maybe she’s even more tragic than you are.  

The little coffee you ordered by chance, is Alexia’s usual order, so she tells you. It’s not the most life-changing piece of information for her to share with you, but it’s something else for you to know about her, and you’re absolutely sure to make a note of it. It probably keeps you on an even tally too, she already knows that you enjoy drinking a tequila.  

You’re still not allowed to kiss each other, for whatever obscure reason, but she has reached for you hand under the table. Interlacing your fingers together isn’t a new thing between you both, and neither are those tingles that immediately shoot up through your arm at even the most innocent of touches from her. She really does have an incredible effect on you, it should probably be more terrifying to you than it is.

“Why are you really here?” She asks after a moment, as she strokes her thumb over your knuckles.  

“My sister dragged me here.” You answer. “It’s a very important football match tomorrow, apparently.” 

“The one against Chelsea?” She asks, with an unmistakable look of interest in her eyes, that has you rolling your own lightly back at her.  

“I think she’d say against Barcelona,” you point out with a sigh, “but yeah, that one.” 

You had managed to work out that Alexia was probably a bit of a football fan. She has a little stick figure tattoo of a footballer on her leg, the outline of a baby being given a ball on her back, and you have exceptional detective skills. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.  

So, it isn’t a surprise that she’d be excited by your footballing interests, but it is unfortunate that you really don’t share the same passion for it as her.  

“Unless you’re a very daring rebel,” you start, “I assume you’ll be supporting Barcelona tomorrow?” 

“Mhmm,” she murmurs, with a small twinkle in her eye, “and you’ll be supporting Chelsea?” 

“Not emphatically,” you admit with a smile, “but I’ll be in that section of the crowd, yeah.”  

“You don’t really care about football at all, do you?” She asks knowingly, with an edge to her smirk that’s intriguing, as you shake your head at her in apology. “Maybe you should introduce me to your sister instead, then!” She winks, and you very quickly remove your hand back out of her hold.  

“Don’t.” You tell her. “Please. Don’t even joke about it.” 

It’s admittedly a little cute that she finds herself quite so hilarious for her disgusting little joke, but you are very unamused by the idea. If the childish look of mischief on her face wasn’t so entirely endearing to you, you may very well have got up and left her right then and there.  

She rests the back of her hand on your thigh with her palm outstretched, and you roll your eyes at her before placing your own hand back into it. She raises it to her lips to place a lingering kiss to your fingers, leaving you with the faintest of blushes across your cheeks. So, maybe you can find it in yourself to forgive her just this once.  

“I have a sister.” She reveals. “Her name's Alba. She’s a few years younger than me. I’m the older sibling, like you are.”  

“Uh oh!” 

“What?” 

“Well, now I really do know too much.” You tell her with a wink.

“My sister’s Emily.” You inform her rebalancing the tally of facts you keep sharing with each other. “Though she’d kill you for calling her that. I think she’d change her name completely if she didn’t think it would upset our Dad so much. She just goes by Em these days ..so ..she probably would have enjoyed your silly little initial idea, actually,” you admit thoughtfully, frowning a little at the realisation, “maybe I really should introduce you to her instead..” 

“Por favor.” She says quietly, quickly shaking her head at you and raising your hand to her lips once again. “Don’t even joke about it.” 

“Will you be going to the game tomorrow?” You ask, a not-so-subtle attempt at finding out if you might be getting to see each other again so soon. “We’d be like star-crossed lovers in the stands. Very Romeo and Juliet of us!” 

“I don’t know that we want to be comparing ourselves to those two! I don’t remember it ending very well for them.” She reminds you, narrowing her eyes at you as her intriguing little smirk returns to her face. “And no. I’m working tomorrow, I won’t be in the stands.” 

“Boo. You can’t be that big of a fan, then!” You tut in disappointment. “I’ve come all this way to support my team!” 

“Your team!” She chuckles. “Will you be there in a Chelsea shirt?” 

“Absolutely not. I’ll be in very neutral colours.” 

She smiles, nibbling at the inside of her mouth as she lowers her eyes to look at the table. She knocks her hand gently on it a few times before turning her attention back to you. It’s impossible to know what she’s thinking, but she’s definitely debating something silently in her head.  

“I could give you a Barcelona one?” She suggests a little cautiously, and you have to smile at the idea. Your sister would certainly disown you if you took one of those back home with you. It’d be worth it, just to see the look on her face.

“You have a very weird habit of offering me your clothes.” You tell her slyly.  

“Mhmm. I really like seeing you in them.” She admits sultrily, and your breath catches as her eyes darken looking at you. “I think I have one in my bag, if you want it.” 

It’s a surprisingly sexy little offer, and you do quite like having her clothes on your body. It’s hard not to laugh at her peculiarity, though, even your sister isn’t that crazy of a football fan.  

“You just ..carry it around with you at all times?” You ask, furrowing your brow as you chuckle at her. “That’s really weird of you! Do you sell them? You go round offering them to unsuspecting tourists? Is that your job? Is it a fake? Are yo—”

“You need to stop trying to know things about me.” She interrupts softly, shaking her head as she chuckles.  

“And just ..blindly accept that you always have a football shirt on you?” 

“Mhmm.” She giggles, and you narrow your eyes at her.

She really is very curious.  

She pulls it out from her little duffle bag from under the table and hands it to you with a gleam in her eye as you take it from her. You push your empty coffee cup to the side and spread the shirt out over the table to study it.  

They’re not exactly your colours, but you can probably make them work. You hold it up against you to check that it will suit, and she bites her lip as she watches you. There’s a name printed on the back of it, you realise, and you smile a little as you read it in your head.  

“Don’t most adults keep it blank? Or just go for their favourite player?” You ask smirking. You turn the shirt around and rest it over yourself, and she gently bites at the skin around her fingernail as you trace the lettering over your chest. “I thought it was just little kids that got their own name on the back. Do you quite like pretending you’re also on the team?” 

“Mhmm ..maybe.” She mumbles, stifling a giggle as she rests her head in her hand. She smiles at you fondly, as she continues gazing at your little shirt inspection.  

“That’s really very cute of you.” You tell her, placing the shirt back on the table and leaning over it as you trace your fingers over the number. “Why ‘11’?” 

“Hm?” 

“11. You have it tattooed on you. You’ve chosen it for your shirt.” You point out. “Is it your birthday? You were born on the 11th? You were born in November? Born on New Year’s Day? Is it just your lucky number? Is it—” 

“Stop, trying to know things about me.” She interrupts again quietly, reaching for your hand and meeting you across the table to rest her forehead to yours.  

“But I want to know things about you.” You whisper. “I want to know when your birthday is. I’d like to know your surname. I want to know what you do for a living, how you got those scars on your knee, how much you weighed when you were born. The name of your first crush, where you went to school, the meaning behind your tattoos. I want to know each and every incredible milestone you’ve ever achieved, and all the unfathomably boring things that you got up to in between each of them. I want to know every single detail about you, and your life, Alexia. I really, really want to know you.”   

It’s quite the thing for you to confess to the poor woman after only meeting her on two separate occasions, but the way her grip on your hand kept tightening as you spoke, the slight clenching of her jaw, and the fact that her lips are dangerously close to yours once again, probably means you haven’t just completely scared her off with it.  

“We’d have to spend a lifetime together, trying to learn all of that about each other.” She whispers to you, her lips lightly brushing against yours.  

“Is that a proposal?” You chuckle, gently bumping your nose to hers. Your eyes trail to her lips, and it’s really very hard to not act on your impulses. “Am I really not allowed to kiss you in h—“ 

It seems that you are allowed to kiss her in here, when it’s right at the back where no one’s watching. Or she’s allowed to kiss you, at least, because there's no doubt which one of you instigated this. Her lips move against yours, and your pulse reacts to her immediately.

It's a kiss harbouring an awful lot of emotion, for two people who still hardly know each other. It's slow, passionate, careful, and every confusing little worry that's been plaguing your brain since the last time you kissed, instantly melts away into nothing as her tongue slips back into your mouth. You're the only two people in the world when her hand's pulling you in by the back of your neck, and you’re tugging her closer by grabbing at her shirt.

It’s probably a good job she did decide to take you further away from everybody else, because it doesn’t stay an entirely family-friendly kiss for very long. It’s not wildly inappropriate, you’re not animals, and the bastard table’s in the way of you doing too much with each other. Thank goodness it is, because it’s been over a month, after all, and you’re both clearly quite a bit needy. You really can’t be doing that in public.  

“I’ve missed you.” She murmurs against your lips, pulling you impossibly further into her.  

“I really missed you too.” 

Hours feel like minutes, in Alexia’s company, as you spend the afternoon roaming Barcelona together. She still refuses to tell you everything about herself. You don’t learn her surname, and she still won’t tell you what she does for a living, but you do both share other things about yourselves with each other. 

It doesn’t matter how insignificant any of the details probably are. Every single one of them still feels important to you, because it’s another little glimpse into her. Every single fact, story and secret that she shares, is what makes Alexia, who she is, and she was absolutely right, you do find yourself falling more for her, with all of the little things you keep discovering.  

She eventually agrees to tell you her birthday. Which makes the whole ‘11’ obsession even more intriguing to you, because the 4th of February ’94 does absolutely nothing to clear that little mystery up. It does tell you that the man in his twenties that you were looking for the night you first met, didn’t even turn out to be a woman in her twenties at all. She turned 30 nearly 3 months ago. She’s absolutely decrepit! 

She gives you a tiny tour on your stroll together, bringing some clarity to the Catalonian streets you’ve been carelessly walking down. Explaining the extra confusing writing on the menu board, and casually revealing to you that she can speak 3 different languages. So, your drunken boast about your GCSE level German, probably wasn’t very impressive to her at all.  

You’re both approached a fair few times by people asking for directions. You can never understand what it is that they’re saying, and you're not really of much use to them just standing there being awkward. So, you hang off a little to the side taking in your surroundings, waiting for her to help them out, before she excitedly returns back to you. You’re not at all bothered by the interruptions. Your patience with it keeps earning you a quick discreet kiss from her as she wraps her arms around your waist, and you return the same display of affection, for her unrelenting kindness to strangers.

Alexia insists that she isn’t a tour-guide, and she’s also not an actress. So, you are very slowly whittling down the options of what it is she could possibly do for a living. She asks you about your own career, which is incredibly cheeky of her, considering. So, you simply refuse to tell her.

Maybe it’s that competitive streak in you, but if she wants to play it secretive, you can absolutely match her for it. You only agree to give her the corresponding facts to the one’s she’s willing to give to you. That way, if she’s falling for you with each new piece of information the same way that you’re doing for her, at least you’re both crashing down for each other, at exactly the same speed.

There’s slightly less careless abandon with being too physical with each other, walking hand in hand around Barcelona. It’s arguably tame compared to how you both were back in London. Whether it’s the lack of alcohol that’s keeping her more reserved, or maybe just because it isn’t yet nighttime, you’re not entirely sure.  

You’re still stealing kisses as you waltz along the streets, but you’re not pushing each other up against the walls of buildings out in the open. Maybe that would be a little indecent of you both. You’re pulling each other down quiet alleyways, instead, pressing yourselves together in secret coves.  

It doesn’t feel entirely necessary, the streets you’re exploring aren’t particularly packed with people, but you don’t question it too much. You’ve really just missed having her lips on yours, and whatever capacity she feels comfortable doing it in, you’re more than willing to oblige.  

You couldn’t really care less who sees you kissing her. You all but forget that they exist when she's pulling you into her and leaving her mark on you. It is arguably far more exciting, however, trying to be sneaky about it with each other. You're both almost actively searching for places that you're unlikely to get caught in. Finding hidden areas and seeing how much you can get away with together.

Your hands find their way under her shirt on more than one occasion. She really does have the most beautiful body. She jokingly reprimands you for it each time, but she doesn’t really discourage you from doing it. She does continually tease you, for your ever-decreasing signs of straightness, though.

Each newly shared kiss with Alexia, is somehow even better than the last. Whether she’s passionately throwing caution to the wind with you, by kissing down your neck, or trapping your bottom lip between her teeth. Even when she’s just being painfully frustrating, by giving you the quickest of pecks before skipping away. Every single one of them still sets your soul on fire, and they still manage to pull all the air right out from your lungs, every single time.

Alexia waits with you, as it turns to evening, on a bench by the road for your taxi back to your hotel. You try not to let the mild burning in your eyes ruin your final moments with her, but you can feel yourself starting to break.

She pulls out the football shirt from her bag again and holds it out for you to take with a shy smile. “I really hope you enjoy the game tomorrow.” She says, and you try to allow yourself to chuckle a little while nodding your head. 

“Mhmm. Thank you, I’ll try.” You tell her, throwing her shirt over your shoulder and quickly rubbing the corner of your eyes. “I’ll have to get Em’s permission to wear this, first. She’ll be very unimpressed with me.” 

“Just don’t let her burn it!”  

“I won't.” You promise, interlacing your fingers with hers and placing a kiss to the back of her hand. “The other fans might throw tomatoes at it, mind!” 

She chuckles, pressing a kiss to your temple, and there’s that familiar sense of dread in your stomach, as you watch the road, knowing your time together is quickly running out again.

You catch her gazing at you as you turn to her, and maybe there’s a little butterfly or two in your stomach as well, at the way her eyes are watching over you. “Are you okay?” You ask.

“Mhmm. You haven’t even gone yet,” she tells you smiling, tucking your hair back behind your ear, “and I already can’t wait to see you again.” 

“You’re really that certain that you will? You’re still sure you don’t want us to swap numbers?”  

“We’ve already bumped into each other a couple of times now. I have no doubt we’ll manage it again.”

It’s nowhere near as reassuring to you as it seems to be to her, but there’s a certain level of romance in her conviction in fortuity. Maybe you are beginning to believe in the possible existence of fate, though you're not completely enamoured by continuing to leave your encounters with Alexia, entirely up to chance. She cradles your head in her hands and gently wipes the tears that are threatening to spill from your eyes with her thumbs.

"I'll never forgive you," you warn her weakly, "if this ends up being it for us."

"Trust me." Is all she asks of you, and she pulls you back into her, resting her head against yours as she runs her fingers over your back.

It feels like an unspoken promise from her, to keep at least trying to find you, and there's a power in her certainty that has you desperate to believe in it too.

It’s still a little hard for you both to say goodbye to each other, but she’s already told you she has a busy day tomorrow, and you can’t really bring her back to your hotel when your sister’s already sharing the bed with you. You share another long hug, and a few more secret kisses before your taxi pulls up, and you finally hesitantly agree to part ways. She places a kiss to your cheek, by way of goodbye as you clamber yourself into the back of the car, setting off without her once again.  

You try to reassure yourself, on the taxi ride back to your hotel. You've ran into each other twice, in two separate countries, by pure dumb luck. It can't be impossible for it to happen again. Maybe there’s something connecting you both, an invisible string, an intangible little bungee cord, that's making sure that neither of you is ever able to truly stray too far away from the other. Alexia has ‘no doubt’ that you’ll manage another meeting again, and you take some comfort in knowing, that you still have 2 days left in the city, to do exactly that.

________________

Collapsing back down to lay on the bed in your hotel room, you have a sneaking suspicion, that you’ll have a far better night’s sleep than you’ve managed to have in a long time, tonight. Your mind isn’t spiralling with confusion anymore, and there’s no longer a gaping hole inside of your chest.  

There’s an excitement in you, a warmth. An encouraging little hope that you really have found something special. Someone special. That once-in-a-lifetime connection with another person who’s also trapped in this world along with you.  

It definitely isn’t the someone you expected to intertwine your soul with. Any younger version of yourself would be very confused about where she’s ended up. It isn’t a connection you want to keep questioning either. It’s not one you really have any doubts on the existence of at all. She’s just it for you, and maybe it’s okay that that’s all you can say to justify it.   

You don’t need to be attracted to other women; you don’t really care about your weakening attraction to men. It just makes sense when you’re together with her. There’s no confusion, no uncertainty, there’s no warning alarms ringing out in your head. There’s just Alexia, and the existence of anything and anybody else, will always pale in comparison to her. 

Your sister arrives a little after you, plodding back into the hotel room, clearly wiped from whatever individual Spanish adventure she got up to today, and she flops herself into one of the armchairs with a very heavy sigh.  

“Long day?” You ask. 

“Mhmm.” She mumbles, frowning at you suspiciously. “You look very happy?” 

“I am very happy!” You tell her with a smile. You excitedly roll over and reach down the side of the bed to retrieve your souvenir of the day from its hiding spot. You launch it right into your sister’s face and she grunts a little under the impact. “Will you hate me, if I wear that tomorrow?” You ask, trying to contain your newfound enthusiasm. 

She pulls it off from where it’s wrapped itself around her head, and she gives you a very unimpressed look. “You bought a Barcelona shirt?” She asks, clearly disgusted with your choice of fashion.  

“I was given it.” 

“By?” 

“..a woman.” You tell her, gently biting your bottom lip as you smile up at the ceiling.  

“Mm.” She mutters with a sigh, moving to join you over on the bed. She thwacks the shirt down over your stomach and lets out a huff next to you. “Well, at least she has good taste.” She tells you. “Or she’s just a bit basic.” 

That’s a little rude ..and very confusing.  

“What do you mean?” 

“Going for the best player on the team.” 

That’s less rude ..but even more confusing.  

“..What do you mean?” 

“Are you joking?” She asks, with a very clear tone of annoyance to her voice. She grabs the shirt and thwacks you with it again. “A woman gives you a shirt with a name on the back, and you don’t even care enough to ask who the bloody player is?”   

Maybe your head is racing again. That’s incredibly confusing. It really doesn’t make any sense. It’s her name, not a player’s name. Maybe they just share a name. It’s not an incredibly rare name, that’s not impossible. 

Your Alexia has a mild interest in football, she’s not playing it professionally. Who would keep that a secret? She’s reticent with sharing information, that’s for certain, but she’s not a bloody liar, and she told you she wouldn’t even be there tomorrow.  

No.  

She said that she was working tomorrow, and that she wouldn’t be in the stands with you. 

Your mind has started racing, and so has your little heart.  

“What. do. you. mean?” You repeat slowly, trying to keep yourself calm.  

“Alexia Putellas.” She tells you, very nonchalantly, and your brain all but short circuits at the name.  

“Who is Alexia Putellas?” 

She thwacks you again with your shirt in dismay, and you’ve really had just about enough of being treated like a piñata. You sit up, pull it from her hands and thwack it across her face as you ask her to explain herself.  

“She’s a footballer, for fuck’s sake!” She shouts, rubbing the palm of her hand against her eyelid. “She’s Spanish. She plays for Barcelona!” She pulls out her phone, to search for her Instagram and bonks you on the head with it. “That’s Alexia Putellas, you twat.” 

You look at the profile, and the hotel room blurs around you. You can feel your heart thumping in your chest, hear the blood pumping around in your ears.  

Your Alexia, is Alexia Putellas.  

She doesn’t sell shirts for a living, she’s not an actress nor a tour-guide, she really isn’t even a spy. Though she’d probably make a pretty good one, the way she never gave this piece of information away.  

Your unexplainable connection with another human being, and she plays football for a living? Clearly very well too, as 2 of her pinned photos have her holding a massive award for it right next to her face. Every other post on her page is about football. She’s Barcelona, through and through.  

She’s verified, she has over 3 million followers. She’s been out here, existing on the world’s stage, all this time, without you ever knowing. Your own sister’s been privy to more information about her than you have.  

She was in London a month ago for football, according to her Instagram posts. The cryptic little ‘business trip’ she was on, was a quarter-final match against Arsenal. An embarrassingly easy win for Barcelona, she must have been out celebrating it when she found you in that club.  

She was back in London again last week for football. You could have seen her then. You missed a chance at an earlier reunion with her, because you refused to go with your little sister to watch her in the first leg against Chelsea.  

Your breathing’s very shallow as you scroll through the endless stream of photos. Your mind is absolutely spinning. It’s all a bit much to take in. You lock your sister’s phone and place it back on her chest as you try to collect yourself. You really don’t want to risk learning too much about her. You want her to tell you everything, you don’t want to find it all out behind her back.  

You’ve been waiting with bated breath all afternoon, savouring every little piece of information she’s given you, and your smart-arse little sister could probably tell you loads about her if you asked. Lots of the details you’re so desperate to know about Alexia are probably only a quick google search away, but you feel guilty enough just knowing her surname without her having been the one to tell it to you.  

She hadn’t been super willing to even give you her first, and no wonder! It’s the single name that’s plastered on her shirt, it’s the name she’s known mononymously as. She’s women’s football’s answer to Beyoncé, Adele. 

Of course, she didn’t want to kiss you in front of people in the café, out there on the streets. It’ll be why she only kissed your cheek in front of the taxi driver. She probably is a little liar, because she almost certainly wasn’t giving directions to people when they approached you both. She presumably isn’t old friends with the two men who wanted a photo with her. They all just know who she is. The whole damn city of Barcelona knows exactly who she is.  

Maybe she was testing you, waiting for you to crack, to confess to knowing everything about her. How couldn’t you know about her? How unbelievably rude of you.  

She’s a celebrity footballer, and you’ve treated her like she’s one of the most normal people in the world. You’ve flirted with her, teased her, kissed her, slept with her, and she’s welcomed it all with that adorable little smirk.  

So, maybe she’s liked that you didn’t know, that you really had no idea about who she was at all. You can’t have had any preconceived thoughts about the woman when you’ve had no prior knowledge about her. Perhaps it’s been part of the fun for her, just being with someone who really couldn’t care about the noise surrounding her. Maybe that’s the reason she didn’t really want you knowing about it. Her fame could have changed things, pushed you away.  

It wouldn’t have. She’d have to do something intrinsically evil to frighten you off. Especially now, after the afternoon you’ve just spent together, learning more, and falling deeper for her. She’s still just the woman that baffled you with a lime in a nightclub, wound you up by kissing someone else. Rescued you from a night of undeniable regret, and turned it into the start of something magical.

She’s your once-in-a-lifetime connection, your confusing, and frustrating, perfect one-night stand companion. She’s the woman that's turned your whole world on its head, and it just turns out, that she quite likes to kick a ball around, with a bunch of other women for a living, and people from all over the world, have been watching her excel at it for years.

She has to know that you’ll have found out already, you’ve told her your sister’s football obsessed. Even if your sister didn’t know who she is, there’s bound to be other people wearing her name on their backs tomorrow. Probably not many of them were given their shirts by the woman herself. There’ll be even less of them with one of her sweatshirts in their bag.  

Maybe she’s excited for you to connect all the pieces together. Giving you her shirt was far too bold a move for her to still not want you to know. She’d have just talked you out of going to the game, if that was the case.  

She wants you there, being a very daring rebel, with her name boldly resting between your shoulder blades, rooting for her and Barcelona, right in the middle of the Chelsea fans. You’ll probably stand out like a sore thumb with your red stripes in the sea of blue you’ll be standing in, and maybe that’s exactly what she’s hoping for. She had ‘no doubt’ that you'd see each other again, after all. 

“She’s the best player on the team?” You ask your sister dreamily, collapsing back down on the bed and clinging to the shirt in your hand as you hold it against your body.  

“Mhmm. Best in the world.” She tells you, and there’s that exhilarating little thrill shooting right up through your body.  

“Oof. I’ll tell Sam Kerr you said that!”  

She scoffs to the side of you and flicks your forehead playfully. You lift Alexia’s shirt, holding it out in between your fingers to study her name again in disbelief.  

You're falling in love, with the ‘best in the world,’ and she seems to be falling for you, too. A little nobody from London, who’s spent the past month pining after who she thought, was a little nobody from Spain. She’s once again turned your whole damn world on its head.  

She really is absolutely everything.  

“I will hate you if you wear that thing tomorrow.” Your sister warns you, as she hits the shirt with the back of her hand. “I offered you a Chelsea shirt and you gagged at it!” 

“I’ve not gagged at this one.” You point out with a grin. “It’s a shame you won’t be friends with me tomorrow.” You tell her, resting the shirt back out over your torso.  

“You can’t wear it!” 

“I bloody can, and I very much will.” You inform her. “You should rethink wearing a Chelsea shirt. You’ll be very disappointed when we beat you tomorrow.” 

“‘We?’ You really are a twat. You’re Barcelona’s biggest fan all of a sudden?” 

“Too bloody right, I am!” You tell her decidedly, hugging the shirt against you. “I’ve always loved football, me.” 

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

[yonpote]

ok heres how i split up the dnp eras (loosely based on dan's timeline in his interview w anthony)

2009-2011: the Sillies era :3 dan refered to it as being a dumb teen just posting cuz he was bored, which is like, thats what all of youtube culture was at this time. they met and like fell in love or whatever you know the lore dont you. phil moved from his parents home to his first apartment in manchester, and dan technically moved to uni but really he moved into phil's apartment to take advantage of his washing machine and ps1 and. yknow. other stuff. they officially moved in together in 2011 yippee hooray, the phanchester apartment holds a special place in my heart

2012-2013: THE SHIFT. they started getting Serious about youtube as a career, doing more stuff w the radio, superamazingproject started in 2011 but THE SHIFT is very easy to observe when you compare the first season of sap to the last season. ALSO. they were NOT A DOUBLE ACT AND NOT GAY 🙄. it could also be called the No Homo era lmao idk this is when a lot of shitty things were happening wrt leaked information, harassment of their families, and just generally becoming more in the spotlight especially while still in the closet being a horrible experience. but also, they moved to london and got cool opportunities with radio stuff and were starting to actually make a living on this shit.

2014-2016: Peak Dan And Phil™ Era. at the height of their popularity. they realized oh shit, we ARE a double act and not only does everyone enjoy us best as a double act, WE enjoy working together. tabinof, tatinof, dapgo, still doing the radio every month up until they start touring, 7 second challenge app, gamingmas, what the hell DIDNT they do during this time period (what they didnt do was uhh take care of themselves and not overwork and not blur their work and personal lives so much to the point where they felt like the whole apartment was a film set.)

2017-2018: Gay Softlaunch Era (aka post-baking aka glass closet) the baby steps toward authenticity, moved to the double apartment to separate work and life, ii's whole theme, dan talking abt depression, phil getting the quiff, both of them being gay as hell in every way other than saying it explicitly. important things of note: TRUTH BOMBS dropped, Interactive Introverts happened, still uploading gaming vids and honestly by the end you could feel their fatigue. and then they hiatused dapg.

2019-2022: ok these four years each feel like whole eras in themselves, but also theres an overarching theme. THE GAY ERA.

2019: im gonna futher split this year in half. first half- dad left to buy milk so other dad is taking care of us. rough six months for dannies im sure. important phil thing of note- he changed his film set from his "bedroom" to a fairly basic but cute shelf backdrop. honestly prob didnt wanna keep pretending that was his bedroom considering.... second half- DAN AND PHIL GAY. dan uploads his magnum opus. phil comes out via tweet. they go to japan and its really gay and it's The Trip to japan for them like yes they first went in 2015 and again in 2023, but Japhan 2.0 Was The One. what does this mean? proposal? anniversary? idk exactly but it was gay as hell dude and theyve talked about that trip with such love in their hearts.

2020: Phandemic (sorry that was bad) but also where tf is dan again? even with the big C-word happening, it was business as usual for phil, regular vids but make em gayer, caught a pigeon nbd, and end of the year introduces the Stereo app show Phil and Phriends where he's had chats with pj, louise, his brother, seth everman?????, and finally. dan reappears. they reveal that they bought and FULLY PLANNED a house together and are ready to move!

2021: they don't move house for another like six months! basically their house was (and is??) still being worked on AND they were in lockdown AND turns out at the end of last year, they were kicked from their Life apartment and were now living in the Work apartment so you can imagine what all of this can do to their psyche and lowkey they were getting sick of each other like it wasnt just bordering on phivorce it was nearly Phurder. Phidow. but to fill the time so that DOESNT happen, my favorite fucking thing ever happens: Lockdown Lads (and all the other names). the first taste of what a dnp podcast would sound like, with the added bonus of chaotic listener interaction. oh yeah also dan wrote a mental health guide book whatever (IM KIDDING I REALLY LIKE YWGTTN I WROTE LIKE TWO REVIEWS ON IT NOW) and they finally become Homosexual Homeowners. theres quite a bit more dnp content this year, dan being on phils channel a bit more, the phodcasts, dan's gay and not proud special.... oh yeah and hometown showdown i guess AND TEXT VIDEO 2!!! my favorite and my namesake!!!!!!!

2022: Prophecy Year..... but they didnt get married. dan returns with another longass video to say: hey i hate being a youtuber and also youtube majorly fucked me over. but also fuck that im gonna do a weird talk show and ALSO GO ON TOUR WITH THIS APOCALYPSE THEME! phil actually... slows down this year. more dan uploads than phil somehow??? but also Dan Is Leaving me is posted and i go completely insane and become the deranged individual you see today. WHICH FINALLY LEADS US TOOOOOO

2023-present: The Unhinged Era. dan's tour was a huge Emotional success for him but uh not without its hiccups due to management and all that and i think he and phil finally realize. Fuck It Who Cares. dan flies back to england FROM AUSTRALIA to make sure he can be with his future ex-husband on his birthday. CAKE HEART EMOJI. YELLOW PLAID SHACKET. they go on a gamer date and post a picture of playing footsies in a cab. THE PHUDE HAPPENS. they go to japan again and while this one will never be The One it was still a well earned holiday this time with bryony! and they took a bunch of very cute film camera pictures.... THIS IS ALL JUST THE FIRST HALF OF 2023 BTW. in phil news, he talks about going to therapy and figuring out how to manage his anxiety!!!! he changes his hair again!! he hires an editor, phan is his otp, he teases about the gaming channel a couple of times but so many of us already dropped any hope of that returning- OH WAIT WHAT THE FUCK?!!!? HUH!??!? they returned, and more chaotic than ever before. the gayness upped to the max, the Weirdness on full speed, the Horniness at Very Scary Levels Oh God Stop Talking About Dogging, phil can swear uncensored now???? and this energy has continued into today...

#the shift #softlaunch #myrambles #phan

[finntheehumaneater]

I owe you a black eye and two kisses (pt 3)

(Part one) (part four)

playlist | pinboard

@hack-saw2004 THIS IS FOR YOU. THEY DID THE THING. And also more than that because I thought “this needs to be gayer”. I also have never smoked, so…sorry if it’s inaccurate lmao

some tags for people haven’t been working, so I am so sorry if you’re on the taglist but it didn’t go through :(

(notes and taglist under the cut)

CW: smoking, swearing, nightmares

It was windier than it had been before when Eddie pulled up to his trailer, and any semblance of neatness in Steve’s hair was blown away the second he stepped outside. The wind stung against his face, and he blinked back tears as he squinted at the trailer. It wasn’t supposed to be this cold, it was July sixth.

He waited for Eddie to get out, and then hobbled behind him to the front door. Every step made his chest ache and his lungs burn. The painkillers helped a bit, but it was only Ibuprofen so it just made him feel less tired. He still needed sleep, though. Maybe a good shower. He smelled like blood sweat and dust, even though his clothes were clean. 

Eddie opened the door and helped Steve up. His hands were warm, but his rings were cold, and Steve didn’t realize he had been staring at the metal skull until Eddie tried to wriggle his hand out of Steve’s grip. Steve let go, his cheeks pink. 

“Sorry,” he tried to say, but he barely got the words out before a gruff voice called, and Wayne Munson shuffled into the room, eyeing Steve over.

“Ed? Who’s this?”

Wayne’s brown flannel hung loosely off of him—the same with his ripped-up jeans, that Steve didn’t think were supposed to be that ripped. He had lost weight since the last time Steve had seen him out. Which has been a few months ago.

Steve wanted to say that he was nobody—that he was just a stranger staying the night because he felt too broken to go and sleep alone—because he couldn’t just accept the fact that he had to be okay, even after everybody that happened. But he stayed silent, watching Eddie go up to Wayne and whisper something.

Their tones were hushed, and Wayne kept looking back over at Steve, which made him shrink into himself slightly, feeling bare again. He wished he had a jacket or something—something that he could pull around himself. He tugged the waistband of his jeans up a bit higher and crossed his arms over his stomach.

He honestly didn’t know how long he had been staring at the floor, but eventually Eddie came over and took his hand, tugging him down the very small, thin hallway and towards the bathroom. Steve felt a few tears slip down his cheeks, but Eddie ignored him, looking over his face for a minute before he pushed Steve gently into the bathroom, stating simply, “Shower.”

Steve nodded and wiped his eyes. He really needed to stop fucking crying. But he knew that wasn’t going to happen. Not for a while. He watched Eddie run a hand through his hair, his eyes wide as he huffed and held his hands out in front of him—palms facing Steve like he was a spooked animal that might run. He might’ve.

“Jesus, okay. We have very little hot water, so try not to use it all, yeah? Like a ten minute shower tops? I’ll come in and leave some clothes on the counter, and then I’ll go and make up the couch for you. You’ll be okay in here by yourself?”

He said it like he was offering to stay, and Steve really would have fucking liked that—just to have someone in here with him even if he couldn’t see them through the shower curtain—but he knew that’s not what Eddie was asking. So he nodded even though he didn’t mean it and let Eddie start the shower for him, tucking himself into the corner. He watched as Eddie grabbed a towel from the cabinet below the sink and placed it on top of the toilet seat, before patting his shoulder and leaving.

Fuck, the shower felt amazing. Eddie came in at some point to put clothes on the counter, but Steve wasn’t really aware of anything more as he sat there, letting the water run over him. He regretted washing his hair, because he didn’t know what the hell was in Eddie’s shampoos—the bottles kind of sticky and the labels long worn off—but it was better than having his hair flopping over and stuck to his forehead. He also didn’t think that Eddie had any hairspray—let alone the kind he normally used.

He tried to get himself out before the water turned cold, but he regretted it immediately after, because the air was too-cool and his hair was sticking to the back of his neck in a way that made him want to cry.

He dried off and changed into the clothes Eddie had left on the counter—an old brown sweater and some shorts that clung to his thighs in a way that was almost uncomfortable, but he’d live. It was better than sleeping in jeans, anyways. The door to Wayne and Eddie’s rooms were closed, so Steve went to the living room, falling onto the couch that had a blanket draped over. He had kind of expected it to be more made up than it was, but then felt bad for thinking that. He had shown up last minute, to people that he knew didn’t like him that much, so he deserved to sleep on the couch where the springs poked into his side, with a scratchy pillow and a thrown blanket that Steve thought was supposed to be white. And it probably had been, at some point. Maybe twenty years ago.

He tried to get comfortable—tried to shake off the gross feeling of his damp hair, which was going to look horrible in the morning, but at least it was clean, now—and closed his eyes.

There was blood everywhere. It was on him, and on the floor, and dripping into teeth. He was alone and the room was dark and fuck, he couldn’t see. Everything was blurry. His face hurt. His head hurt. His chest hurt. He heard the door open, and backed into the corner, barely able to see through his swollen eyes.

“Please,” he begged, but he didn’t even know what he was begging for. He just wanted it all to stop. He wanted to leave. He wanted to die. He wanted Robin.

Steve woke with a start as he heard the screen door swing shut, sitting up quickly and gasping. His hands immediately went to his face, feeling it over, and he crumpled back into himself when he felt the stinging of still-hurt skin. It had happened. He wasn’t okay. 

He got up, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as gently as he could and stumbled outside, his feet tripping over themselves. He kind of wished he had kept his socks on after the shower, even if they were dirty. 

Eddie was perched on the picnic table just outside of the trailer, a cigarette dangling from his lips, an open notebook in his lap. He had headphones on, and Steve could hear the loud music coming through, but the Walkman was too far away for him to read what the tape was. There was a small tin sitting next to it, cream colored with a gold-looking lid. It looked outdated.

Steve made his way down to the grass and sat next to Eddie, who still didn’t notice him, his eyes glued to the notebook and whatever drawing he was making. Steve picked up the tin. It had the face and shoulders of a woman on the front—long blonde hair and a laurel wreath, her pale skin almost the color of the tin. There were green and gold designs around her, outlining the font. Some of the words were faded and scratched over, but Steve could make it out. Or at least what he thought it said.

Colgate’s Dactylis. Talc Powder. Boric Antiseptic. COLGATE & CO. New York, USA.

He opened it, and there were cigarettes stuffed inside, a lighter stuck with them. The tin in itself wasn’t very big, but it fit maybe four or five of them with the lighter. 

He felt Eddie startle as he set the tin back down, flinching in on himself, one of his knees raised as he threw the notebook onto the bench and wrenched off his headphones. “Jesus, Harrington…,” he muttered, putting a hand over his heart and sighing. His eyes looked kind of red, like he had been crying. Steve wanted to ask what was wrong, but he knew Eddie would yell at him if he did. “Give a man a warning.”

Steve nodded and looked down. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Don’t be,” Eddie muttered, huffing and picking up the Walkman. Steve tried to catch a glimpse of what it was, but Eddie tucked it away after he paused it, too soon for Steve to see.

Steve sighed, settling into the almost-uncomfortable silence, before he saw Eddie’s hand in his vision, holding out the cigarette for him. Steve looked over at him. Some of Eddie’s curls were falling over his face, acting like a curtain, making his expression unreadable, but he saw Eddie nod. 

He put his to his lips and took a drag, holding it for a second and letting the smoke fill up his lungs, before he breathed out, watching the smoke cloud in the cool early-morning air in front of his face. At least he assumed it was early-morning.

“So graceful,” Eddie murmured as Steve handed it back to him. He didn’t know why, but it made his cheeks flush. Eddie took a drag himself and sighed out the smoke, dropping his head before he handed it to Steve.

Steve just looked down at it for a moment, watching the very tip of it sizzle to ash. He heard Eddie clear his throat and looked over. His hair kind of looked golden around the edges from the light of the porch light of the trailer behind them. It looked good on him. Made him look almost god-like.

“You smoke often?” Eddie asked quietly, and Steve shook his head.

“Not really?”

“Is that a question or an answer?” Eddie mused, eyeing Steve over, a kind of annoyance in his face that was overshadowed by the soft yellow light around him. 

Steve shrugged, looking away and sighing. He didn’t mean to keep making Eddie angry with him—and to be honest, he didn’t even know what he was doing to make him mad—but maybe he deserved this, for being such a dick to him years ago. 

He was about to say something stupid that would probably make Eddie even more mad, an apology for his past actions on the tip of his tongue, when Eddie spoke up again. “You ever shotgunned?” 

Steve froze, shaking his head. “No.”

“I meant with smoking.”

“There’s another one?” Steve tilted his head.

Eddie nodded. “S’the, uh…you stab the thing?” He mimed stabbing a knife into something and then taking a sip. “With the beer? I’ve seen you do it at parties and shit. The girls seem impressed by it.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that’s what it was called,” Steve said quietly, shrugging. “I’ve never…done the smoking one, then.”

“Do you want to?” Eddie asked, and he sounded kind of unsure. Steve looked over, feeling his eyebrows raise, and he hesitated.

“Hm?”

“Shotgun? Do you want to?”

“Yeah, sure,” Steve scooched a bit closer, handing the cigarette back to Eddie. “How do I do it?”

Eddie raised onto his knees on the top of the picnic table, hovering above Steve before tucking a finger under Steve’s chin so that he could raise his head. Steve leaned into his hand slightly, and maybe it was the fact that he was fucking exhausted that made him do it.

Eddie grabbed his face gently, his fingers were a bit harsh in a way that Steve kind of liked, the other man’s fingers pressing into his cheeks, the cigarette in his other hand.

“Open your mouth,” Eddie whispered, and Steve did. He felt like an idiot, just sitting there with his mouth hanging open as Eddie towered above him, taking a drag of the cigarette. He didn’t blow it out in the air, though, instead leaning forward, his lips ghosting over Steve’s, and Steve thought about leaning in for a split second, before Eddie breathed out into Steve’s mouth. 

It startled Steve so much that he flinched back, his eyes wide as he choked on the smoke and coughed, doubling over with his face tucked into his arm. Eddie laughed softly and shook his head slightly, putting out the cigarette against the heel of his shoe when he sat back down. He grabbed his notebook and Walkman, standing up and flicking the stud of a cigarette into the grass. “That was shotgunning. Like it?”

Steve nodded as he coughed, his face burning red and his eyes watering. What the fuck just happened? Eddie walked back into the trailer, closing the screen door behind him. Steve got up and grabbed the cigarette but, tugging the sweater down lower, his thighs stinging from where they had been stuck to the picnic table. 

He wanted to talk about this, because all of that seemed to…it seemed too much like a “friend” thing, for two people who “hated each other”. Maybe even more than a friend thing. But he knew they wouldn’t talk about it. He didn’t know Eddie that well, but he did know one thing about him. Hell, everyone knew it.

Eddie didn’t talk things over with people.

Eddie’s cigarette tin. If you even care.

I don’t read the parts of this fic over, if you find a mistake, lmk!!

taglist (WHICH IS ALWAYS OPEN ♥️):

@estrellami-1 @randombibitch @insteviewetrust @anne-bennett-cosplayer @lolawonstuff @goodolefashionedloverboi @slowandsteddie @ellietheasexylibrarian @mugloversonly @littlebluejane @zombiethingy @steddie-island @rozzieroos @ohimamarigold @origamiplushie @mamafaithful @stillfullofshit @gleek4twd @swimmingbirdrunningrock @anaibis @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @honhonbaguettegofuckyourself

#Finn writes #steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fic #eddie Munson fanfic #Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington fic #steve Harrington fanfic #wayne Munson #Wayne Munson fic #wayne Munson fanfic #Stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #my writing #my fic #Steve Eddie #eddie x steve #steve x eddie #eddiesteve

[softshrimpy]

How To Woo A Hot Principal

Chapter 5: Step 5: Wine and Dine

Summary: Working at the weathervane was exactly what you needed. The routine, the people, your co-workers. It certainly helped that a certain tall, blonde, fucking gorgeous woman happened to frequent the cafe. Now some may call hopelessly flirting with your customers inappropriate behavior.

But truly, when it came to Larissa Weems, who could blame you?

Buckle up besties things are gettin hotter. Also thicc thanks to the bestie @misssmephisto and all the gay ideas she has shared with me. This fic would succ without her🦐✨

Tags: @variant-2402 @the-bagel24 @eveymay @kimiinou @muffintopxs

(pls let me know if I missed you I'm a forgetful shrimp)

Chapter 4

Cross Posted on AO3 here

HTWAHP Masterlist

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“She’s taking you on a date?!”

“It’s not a date James,” you sigh, cleaning the table tops.

“You’re going out for dinner in Burlington and you don’t think it’s a date?”

“You’re the one who said she’s out of my league!”

“That was before she invited you to dinner! Plus, she is still out of your league, but maybe you have some charm hidden under there.”

Externally? You were calm, cool as a cucumber, as the kids say. Internally? You’d been panicking since she’d asked you yesterday morning and could barely think any other words than “fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.”

She had asked you so casually. You had brought her her morning coffee, you’d been telling her about one of the locals that had caused a scene in the cafe when she sprung the question on you.

“What would you say to dinner tomorrow night?”

“What?” You had eloquently uttered.

“You said I should take time off. So what would you say to dinner tomorrow night?” She asked, taking off her glasses and fidgeting with them.

“I- where uh where would we go?”

“I know a rather nice place in Burlington. If you’d rather not I completely understand-“

“I’d love to go to dinner with you.”

She had finally looked up at you at that. She seemed shocked at first but then her shock dissolved and she flashed you the brightest smile you had ever seen. You swore at that moment you would do whatever it took to make her smile like that all the time.

So now you were standing in your room, staring intently into your closet trying to find something to wear. You have no idea what kind of restaurant it is nor what Larissa is wearing. You do know however that you have an hour to get your shit together. You eventually settle on one of your fancier outfits. You put on some makeup and end up arriving at Nevermore 5 minutes early.

You exit your car and end up halfway to the entrance when it opens. You stop dead in your tracks and fight to keep your jaw off the ground when you see Larissa.

Oh my god, she was wearing pants. PANTS.

You were almost certainly dead and had somehow made it into the good place. Larissa Weems was standing there wearing the most flattering pants you’d ever seen on a woman. She had paired it with a cute turtle neck that she had rolled up the sleeves of and seeing her bare forearms was giving you unholy thoughts.

God, you were gay. You were gayer than gay. The gayest around. Fuck this woman was making it hard not to kiss her senseless.

“Hello darling.” She all but fucking purrs, looking you over.

“Uh, I- uhm you. Hi.”

“Are you ready to go?”

You nod dumbly, following her as she leads you to the car. You do shamelessly stare at her ass as you follow her and find yourself blushing and thanking her when she opens your door for you.

When you arrive at the restaurant Larissa, ever the gentlewoman, gets out and opens your door for you. And then, as if you weren’t already swooning, she leads you inside with a hand on the small of your back. You genuinely think you’ve died and ended up in heaven.

“You look absolutely ravishing tonight darling.” She murmurs, pulling out your chair for you.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” you joke, “but really you look so- you just- You look amazing.”

“Thank you darling,” she murmurs, blushing as she sits down.

You look around, taking in the fanciness of the place. The whole place screams way out of your budget. Larissa must notice you starting to get nervous because she reaches across the small table and grabs your hand, sending you a bright smile.

“Order whatever you like sweetheart. It’s on me.” She comments, looking over the menu.

“I- you don’t have to-“

“I know. I want to. So don’t worry about it.”

“I-I don’t even know what to order. I’ve never been to a place as fancy as this before.” You murmur, looking over the menu.

“The steak here is pretty good. And they have a wine that goes really well with it.”

“Oh yeah? So you bring many baristas out here then?” You smirk, dropping the menu.

“Oh yes. I wine and dine every pretty young lady I come across.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

You’re interrupted by the waiter coming to take your orders. Larissa orders for both of you, and the waiter leaves. She then clears her throat and turns her attention back to you.

“So where did you come from? Before you moved to Jericho I mean.” She asked.

“Well, I actually grew up in a small town similar to Jericho. And you know, being a small-town kid all I wanted was to live in the city with all the different kinds of people and that stuff. So I went, and I- it didn’t work out. Rent was fucking expensive and I ended up working two jobs to cover it which just made me depressed and anxious. And it didn’t help that I was already not the healthiest adult out there what with my bouts of weakness and fainting episodes. So after a couple of months and basically a mental breakdown I decided to move here. I would’ve gone back home but I…I just didn’t want to go back to the same people I had grown up with and their disappointment and judgement.”

Larissa gapes at you and you realize you’ve just… let that all out. You start to apologize when she grabs your hand again.

“I’m so sorry you went through that,” She murmurs, “but I’m glad you’re here and I- I do hope Jericho is better for you, I- you deserve to be happy.”

“Well, how could I not be happy when I got to meet a literal goddess among mortals.” You flirt, attempting to lighten the mood.

She blushes at that humming and looks away. The rest of dinner is less exciting but just as wonderful. Larissa tells you about some shenanigans the students have been up to and a little bit more about her time at Nevermore as a student. You talk for hours, she questions your choice in steak (you have it as rare as possible and she finds it interesting.)

You could talk to her forever. And you’re sure you would have, had the restaurant not had a closing time of 10. The two of you apologize to the waiter for staying so long and make your way back to the school.

You arrive back at Nevermore a little while later. You both get out of the car and stop outside Nevermore’s entrance.

“Thank you for inviting me Larissa I-I really enjoyed tonight.” You smile.

“Thank you for accompanying me, I can’t remember the last time I’ve had so much fun.”

“It was my pleasure.”

The two of you stand there for a moment before you both speak.

“I really don’t with tonight to-“

“I was wondering if you’d like to-“

You both flush and you gesture for Larissa to speak first.

“I was wondering if you’d like to come in for a drink?” She asks.

“Yes!” You reply, a little too enthusiastically, so you try again. “Ahem. I mean. Yeah, that sounds neat.”

She chuckles at your antics and leads you inside. As you’re following her to presumably her quarters you can’t help but think that all of this really does seem like a date. The dinner? Rather romantic if you’re honest with yourself. And now? Going back to her rooms to have a drink? That’s definitely slightly fruity.

You realize, upon arriving at her office, that Larissa’s rooms are attached to her office. Which is both handy and baffling considering you’ve been in her office almost every day for the last few weeks and somehow missed the door leading to them. She asks you to take a seat on her comfy couch while she fetches the wine and the glasses.

You sit, suddenly having the thought that if this is a date then you’re woefully unprepared for the Larissa Weems to be romantically interested in you. However, you argue, this could just be her wanting company and you are a pretty good friend. So there’s no need to jump to crazy conclusions like the sexiest woman on earth being interested in you.

“Darling? Are you alright?” Larissa asks, suddenly in front of you with two glasses in hand.

“Huh? I mean yes? Sorry, I just zoned out a bit there.” You blush.

“I do often wonder what goes on in that pretty little head of yours.” She hums.

Christ is she flirting with you??

“It’s not really that interesting truly, a lot of memes or silly songs on repeat more often than not.”

She laughs at that and the two of you settle back into comfortable conversation. About an hour goes by before you finally muster up the confidence to ask the question that’s been on your mind since you arrived.

“Larissa…”

“Yes, dear?” She hums.

She’s sitting next to you on the couch, her heels off and feet tucked beneath her. She’s leaning against the back of the sofa, one hand propped under her head and the other holding her only half-empty glass. She looks so…domestic. It makes your heart flutter in your chest.

“I was just wondering. And I mean I may be really wrong and if I am we can just forget I even opened my big mouth. Maybe I shouldn’t even be asking this. I really don’t want to ruin things between us because you’re like the best person ever but-“

She moves her hand to your thigh, sitting up a bit straighter (and subsequently closer to you somehow). Your eyes dart to her hand as it squeezes your thigh and now your throat is dryer than the Sahara but your underwear will definitely be the opposite.

“What is it you want to ask darling?” She purrs, again ruining your underwear further.

“I uh. This dinner thing. Was it…was this a date?” You finally manage, bracing yourself for the worst.

For a solid moment Larissa just stares at you, her eyes wide. You’re certain it’s the longest moment of your life, and in it you contemplate throwing yourself out the nearest window. You’re about to start back tracking and apologize when she laughs.

And truly, you love her laugh, but right now you can’t help but think she’s laughing at the idea of her being interested in you in that way. You don’t blame her but it makes your heart clench and you look away, doing your best not to burst into tears.

“It was stupid. I’ll just go-“

“Darling-“ she smiles.

“It’s okay! It was silly of me to think someone like you would even like someone like me like that, I know. I’ll just go and we can forget-“

“Darling.” She stops you, still smiling but much more serious. “I’m not laughing because I think it’s silly.”

You hum at that, still not meeting her eyes. She grabs your chin then, forcing you to look at her.

“I was laughing,” she starts, leaning closer to you and whispering, “because I thought I had been rather obvious.”

“Obvious?” You whisper back, still confused.

“I have been flirting with you for quite some time now sweetheart.” She hums.

“Oh.”

Oh.

OH.

“So you- you’ve been…with me? You like me?”

“Very much so.”

“Wow.”

You sit there, taking it all in, taking her in. You then, much to your utter horror, let out the most girlish giggle you have ever giggled. You want to be mortified but she beams at you, her teeth showing and all thoughts exit your head.

She cups your cheek, her thumb brushing over your lip. You part your lips as you do your darndest to breathe. You glance down at her lips, watching as her tongue pokes out to lick them. When you look back at her eyes they’re darker than you’ve ever seen them, her pupils blown.

“I’d very much like to kiss you now, if that’s alright.” She whispers.

“Please.” You whisper back, desperate.

She closes the gap, her soft lips brushing against your own. It’s short and sweet and gentle and everything you’ve ever dreamed of. And then she’s pulling you into her lap and she’s kissing you again except this time it’s needy and desperate and very hot.

Your head is empty aside from the sensation of her lips against hers and the feeling of her body beneath your hands. She runs her hand down your back, palming at your ass and you barely suppress a moan at the feeling. Somehow you manage one coherent thought as you sit there, straddling her lap and kissing her.

Larissa Weems will be the death of you.

#HTWAHP #larissa weems x reader #larissa x you #principal weems #larissa weems #wednesday #principal weems x reader

[hereforthe911buds]

so let's say at the wedding, Buck decides to come out to his parents before Tommy arrives. But before Tommy can get there, an emergency occurs that he can't leave. So he's later and later and later, until it's more halfway through the reception and Buck already feels like shit due to the hangover.

he sits at a table with his parents, Eddie within ear shot two tables behind them with Marisol. she goes to the bathroom, but Buck's parents are becoming more and more dismissive, to the point the comments are borderline homophobic/biphobic. Eddie can see Buck's stress level building before his eyes.

The one of his parents says "at least you're little thing doesn't have to take away from your sister's wedding." the hurt all over Buck's face, his parents disparaging what is him coming out. Eddie stands up and immediately walks towards Buck.

"Hey," Eddie reaches his hand out, "do you wanna dance?"

"w-what?" Buck studders, but Eddie doesn't wait for a response. He grabs Buck's hand and pulls him to his feet. His parents are shocked, but Eddie is guiding Buck to the dance floor. Honestly Buck feels a little relief that he doesn't have to sit with his parents any longer.

"I'm leading," Eddie orders as he places his hands on Buck's body.

"what are you doing?" Buck questions, but there is a giddyness in his voice.

"dancing with my friend," Eddie answers nonchalantly.

"you don't have to do this," Buck comments, though he doesn't know why he's so happy Eddie did.

"any excuse to give some parents the middle finger," Eddie shrugs off. Buck looks over Eddie's shoulder to his parents glaring, as if he is taking away from his sister's day. but no one else seems to care besides them. He looks back at Eddie.

"well thank you," Buck sighs, "What a mess of a day. I'm almost relieved Tommy didn't make it, not see me looking like I slept on the floor last night."

"what are you talking about? you really rallied. he'd find you handsome as hell," Eddie gleams, then suddenly feeling this tightness in his chest, as if he just realized he's dancing with a guy in front of everyone. and not just any guy. Buck, his best friend who he has a connection with like he hasn't with anyone before.

and now he's publicly dancing with him, and he didn't even think about it. Buck looked like he needed help, and also deserved at least one dance with how good he looked tonight.

oh god.

"and you look-" buck starts, but then stops himself because 1) he may have been about to call his best friend beautiful 2) Marisol is standing by her and eddie's table staring them down.

"uh your girlfriend does not look happy," Buck comments, causing Eddie's head to turn. the second they make eye contact, she hightails out of the reception hall.

"wait!" Eddie yelps as he chases after her. he feels bad leaving Buck there, but his girlfriend is obviously mad. But it's not like he was dancing with a girl, he was just offering some support by slow dancing with his guy best friend.

it is sounding gayer and gayer the more Eddie thinks about it. he's not far behind her but as she stomps through the entrance way, Eddie sees Tommy heading in the opposite direction.

"Hey Eddie!" Tommy starts, but then see Marisol storm past him with Eddie trailing behind, "uh, bye Eddie." wanting to avoid whatever confrontation is happening, he continues into the hall.

as Eddie steps out the building, he looks over his shoulder to see Buck embracing Tommy, looking so elated that he finally appeared.

and Eddie doesn't know why but he feels like he got punched in the gut.

"Marisol!" he calls out.

"I want to go home," she commands.

"yes, let's go home and talk-"

"no, I want to go to my home," she cuts him off, "my car is at yours. either drive me there or I'm taking an Uber to get it."

"it was just Buck," Eddie tries to distract.

"no, it was only Buck," Marisol points out, "we barely even danced, and then you-"

"Eddie, you're in love with your best friend," Marisol states firmly, "I don't care how he feels for you, but I don't want a boyfriend who obviously likes someone else more than me."

"So are you taking me home or not?"

and there goes the longest car ride of Eddie Diaz's life.

#buddie #i think i just wrote a fan fiction? nice #911 #911 abc #fan fic #fan fiction #fan fic writing #tw homophobia

[astraltrickster]

But if you want my DETAILED reading of Astolfo's gender, well...it's one of those 5D-chess-with-multiverse-time-travel genders.

On the surface layer, Astolfo is just some guy. He's AMAB and he identifies with maleness, he doesn't really think about anything else, he just doesn't care about the standards that dictate the gendering of arbitrary objects.

On the next layer Astolfo is Nonbinary Lemonade Lover. "Why are you, as a man, doing that?" "Fuck it I'm nonbinary now this shit's getting crazy." He has absorbed the way society treats his presentation into his identity, seamlessly integrating it into his internal relationship to himself.

On the next layer Astolfo is Bugs Bunny. They are whatever is convenient, and/or whatever makes the joke work. She's a girl when she doesn't want to be left out of a gathering, or when it helps with a mission, or when it makes a relationship gayer, or just when it's funny; it is not a "disguise" or a "trick" but a real and complete identity shift, except it's not a shift because that facet has been there all along, except when it hasn't.

On the next layer Astolfo has no gender. Their gender is a blank slate, for anyone else to guess at. Their gender is a mirror, a tool of their absurd charisma, that lets those who need comfort see the unappreciated parts of themself in another and feel safe - and takes those who need to be disturbed and gently but firmly shows them the darkest, ugliest sides of themselves and prompts them to reflect upon their actions and behaviors and reconsider their treatment of others. They lost their gender when they gained their outlook on humanity and life. Their gender is distilled essence of ethical hedonism. Their gender is paladin. Their gender is hopepunk. Their gender lies abandoned on the moon, discarded alongside the other unwanted shackle that is their "reason". Their gender is whatever the world needs it to be. Their gender is reckless and irrational love.

And, crucially, he is not consciously aware of the majority of these layers at any given moment in time. He couldn't tell you anything about his gender, because it's just not something he really thinks about. Even when activating girlmode, it's as natural and unquestionable as breathing - so natural, in fact, that you will come off as the weird one for questioning it, if you can even remember enough about Society in the moment to remember that many people think of it as weird in the first place. Astolfo could never write a breakdown like this - he could rarely even give the abridged answer without getting distracted - because that would require thinking about it far more than he ever has, or could, or would even want to; he would see no point to this level of introspection when there are adventures to be had and people to be helped.

So, Astolfo's gender defies labeling; every label will be 100% correct when you first consider it, but the moment the thought solidifies, let alone when you speak it, it will become an imperfect fit, because he does not give enough thought to the matter to truly identify with any label, no matter how well it describes what he experiences at any moment in time. The moment you speak a label for Astolfo your brain is flash-fried with acute awareness of how language is an imperfect tool, how you can never truly perfectly describe what you experience, let alone what someone else does - for many people it recovers just as quickly, but something in there is irrevocably changed, or at least one step closer to being so.

In conclusion, Astolfo's gender is Plato's Allegory of the Cave.

#fate #astolfo #gender

[welcometothejianghu]

Hey, you! You should watch Hikaru no Go!

Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: Hikaru no Go/Qi Hun/棋魂.

Based on the manga of the same name, this drama is the Chinese live-action adaptation of a story about a boy who plays Go, the spirit only he can see who teaches him how to play Go, and all the friends and enemies he meets along his journey to become a good Go player.

...Wait, no, come back. I swear it's more interesting than that makes it sound.

What it is, is a character-driven tale of a charming young boy who, among a bunch of weird and wonderful people who love him, grows up to be a charming young man.

(You see how his shirt says SWEETIE CUTIE? That is because he is a sweetie cutie.)

It's a sports manga, so you've got Training Montages and The Big Game and all sorts of tense moments like that. But there's also lots of fun, gentle plotlines that are equal parts tearjerking and heartwarming. It is incredibly written, act, and produced, and I can't believe that it's not more popular, because it's so good.

Here are five reasons you should watch it:

1: GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY

Word of Honor is merely the second gayest thing I have ever seen a c-drama do. Hikaru no Go is gayer by an order of magnitude.

I think the way they got it past censorship was by saying, oh no, this isn't gay, it's just a sports rivalry! But come on, what do you mean sports rivalries aren't gay, have you seen how all those Canadian and US hockey players keep marrying one another? This is that. This is the tale of two boys who've been in love since they were seven figuring out that they've been in love since they were seven.

(And speaking of seven-year-olds, the kid casting is amazing.)

I mean:

This is an actual still from the show.

So is this.

So is this.

These are not taken out of context. The context would make them gayer. That's how gay they are for each other.

But you know what the best part is? They're not the only pairing. And I don't just mean this like, oh, here's two other cute boys, you can imagine the times they kiss -- I mean, the show itself has its own ships! Ships you wouldn't expect! Intergenerational gay Go solidarity!

Now here's the catch: You have to wait for it. But oh boy, the payoff had us clutching our heads and screaming as quietly as we could because it was after midnight and we were losing our minds.

That last episode!! You have to see it to believe it!!!

2: EMOTIONS!

Bring the tissues. There are parts where it was kinda hard for me to watch because I was sobbing.

Because it's a sports manga, there are lots of triumphs and tragedies. Not everybody can make it to The Big Game. Not everybody gets to live out their dreams. Sometimes you try your hardest and it's not good enough. Sometimes you play your best and you still lose. Some people have to give up on what they love. Some people who were there with us at the beginning don't get to make it with us to the end.

What really makes it is that the show sits with its emotions. Events will affect people's emotional states for multiple episodes to follow. People who have sadness don't just snap out of it. Loving someone doesn't automatically fix them. Shit's hard!

Of course, this contrast makes the triumphs even more wonderful. I will tell you that the show has a happy ending, but not always the ending you would expect would have been their happy ending. It is overall an incredibly uplifting show. You'll need tissues for that, too.

3: (Nearly) Everything Is Pretty Dang Normal

Part of what I mean by that is that while a lot of the actors are real pretty, they're also done up in ways where, like, if you met this person on the street, you would think, this person is pretty! and not, what the hell fancy-ass magazine cover did you just step off of?

Look at these normal goobers:

There are two exceptions to this. The first is Chu Ying, because he is a ghost energy being from the distant past, and ghosts energy beings from the distant past get astonishing eyeliner.

The second is Fang Xu, because his actor, Han Mubo, is an actual idol. Congratulations on your face, sir.

However, I also mean that the story is delightfully mundane. Sure, there's that one supernatural element to it, but everything else is just a regular story about regular people who have regular human problems. There are characters who disappoint their parents and mentors, struggle to pay their bills, try to balance school and extracurricular activities, have crushes, argue with teachers, flake on responsibilties, get lost in the woods, and do some pretty normal human things. Nobody's avenging anyone or trying to slay anything. It's just people being people.

It's even a bit of a period piece -- the show starts out in 1997, then jumps forward to the late '00s, so everything's just charmingly slightly outdated. Damn, I love everybody's flip phones.

4: Actually Good Television

Okay, if you like c-dramas, you know they can be ... janky. Episodes sometimes end practically in the middle of sentences. CG leaves much to be desired. Obvious cuts and last-minute overdubbing really stand out. You can tell where the censorship mandates got in there and started mucking around with things. That kind of jank.

This show feels different. It feels like someone thought out each episode, start to finish, and then created each piece to fit that vision. Every episode even has a title and beautiful title card. They start and end in dramatically logical places. The cinematography isn't anything particularly artful or experimental, but it's solid and clean and lovely. (And if you're sick of shows so dark you can't see them, you've got no worries here.)

The CG in the show is unobtrusive, and most of it is spent making Chu Ying subtly transparent.

There are a bunch of secondary characters, but to me that never felt overwhelming. Most of them are interesting, three-dimensional characters, no matter how short their screen time is. And while there definitely could have been more female characters, the show itself is pretty open about how sexism in the Go world means that it's mostly a boys' club -- and the ladies that are there are great.

In short, this is a show you can show to people who don't have c-drama brain and thus are less inclined to overlook some of the more cringeworthy aspects of their productions. I bet that your Average American Television Enjoyer Who Can Handle Subtitles would have no trouble getting into the groove of it, which I imagine could be very useful for those of you who have people you'd like to watch c-dramas with, except you don't feel like stopping every five minutes to apologize for one thing or another.

5: Better Than The Source Material?

This is the point where I have to admit that I myself have never read the manga or seen the anime. I came into this with only the vaguest familiarity with the source material. I can only tell you that the live-action drama is good; I can't swear that it's better.

However, @jianghootinandhollerin can speak to this comparison more authoritatively than I:

When I was 20, Hikaru no Go (manga) was my favorite thing, the primary obsession, the source of multiple livejournal themes, custom winamp skins, and a fanfic where Hikaru got a go stone stuck up his nose. Because of this deep love in my history, I was dubious about a live action version and the changes it made, but hey, turns out, those changes were exactly what the 20 years older version of me needed. This version of the story benefits so much from having the full, completed story to work from from the outset. The manga didn't know where it was ending when it started, but this show got to, and the story gets to be richer and the characters' stories get to be deeper thanks to that. And also, very importantly: everyone is older and much, much gayer.

Look, I understand if "but it's not the original manga/anime" is a dealbreaker for you. There are adaptations of things I can't watch because no matter how good the end product may be, I'm going to hold it against it that it's not the source I'd rather be seeing, and that's not a fair standard. That's fine. It happens.

But if you can, give this a go (pun unintended). It does not replace the original thing; it is a different take on the same idea. And yeah, it's one that really speaks to me here, on the other side of forty as I am. Maybe I would have missed it at twenty, but the person I am now really respects its attitude that while Being The Best is all well and good, it is not the only thing, and it is absolutely not more important than being yourself and doing what you love with the people you love. Sometimes you peak and can't advance anymore, so you become a teacher, and you know what, that's better than okay, that's actually pretty great. (Do I overidentify with Bai Chuan? Listen: maybe.)

Have I convinced you to watch it yet?

You can watch it on iQiyi, or you can watch it on iQiyi's YouTube channel. I hope you love it as much as I do.

#hikaru no go #qi hun #棋魂 #rec post #i made this #because I love these go boys #meta

[zhansww]

The first ~28 episodes of War of Faith are so good. So fucking good. And definitely recommendable. But the drop in the quality of the writing after that is... jarring. The pacing runs wild, the plot gets ridiculously contrived and a good character turns evil for no reason. Basically, the best way I’d recommend this show is to watch until about episode 28 and after that, just skip to the finale. Spare yourself all the nonsense in between. Although I will say that the character of Wei Ruolai, at least, stayed pretty consistent and mostly well-written until the very end. He’s easily become my favorite of all the characters I’ve watched Yibo play. Oh and there is definitely potential for a second season. As long as it has the same quality as the first two acts of season one, I would totally welcome it.

spoilers under the cut

As much as I appreciated what they did to redeem Tunan at the end, my biggest issue is that Tunan should not have turned evil in the first place. He shouldn’t have fucking needed redemption. It (still) makes no sense. And it’s the worst mistake of the third act. I could literally condone anything else. The fact that Tunan turns into a warlord, even though he is banker. The fact that everyone suddenly knows how to wield guns and fight. The ridiculous plot armor for certain characters and how conveniently important things constantly happen at the same time. Like, I’m fine with all that. But changing characters to move the plot in a certain direction instead of having characters move the plot naturally... that’s where I draw the line. And I know what they did it for. To make it more angsty. To make us, viewers, feel some type of way. But nope, the only thing bad writing makes me feel is annoyance.

Even if I take my shipping glasses off for a moment, I think it’s safe to say that Tunan and Ruolai are the heart and soul of this story. Heck, this show literally starts off with Ruolai, trying to get a place at Central Bank, where his beloved Tunan works. That’s what kicks off the entire story. Honestly, their relationship is gayer than the only canonically gay c drama I watched. And even though the third act is a mess, their relationship is still probably what I liked the most on this show. And I’m glad that they, somehow, got a sort of happy ending. I assume the implication in the end is that Tunan is the comrade Ruolai was supposed to meet... And since they’re finally (belatedly) on the same side again, they get to work together again, too. It’s a bit bittersweet but oh well. Better than if Tunan had died, at least. Ruolai has this really endearing and whole-hearted devotion to Tunan. They very much have a master/servant dynamic at the beginning. But the more Ruolai grows into his own, the more he steps out of Tunan’s shadow and at the very end, they meet each other as equals. I really liked what Yibo himself said about their relationship, that they started as master and disciple but gradually came to consider each other family.

I’m really fucking glad that Yibo chose this role and that he played it the way that he did. I don’t even know how long it’s been since the last time I was this invested in a show (not counting the OP live action cuz I’ve been invested in the og for a decade lol) so I’m ultimately quite happy that I watched this which I wouldn’t have done if it weren’t for dd, tho. My man really chooses the best roles and his performances keep getting better. I’m super proud of him and to be his fan~

#war of faith #wang yibo #text

[wen-kexing-apologist]

The Language of Love in La Pluie Ep. 8

Alright internet, my Pride events have ended, and I have returned home, so though I am a day late and a dollar short, you know what time it is….

Alright so I want to get a couple of smaller details out of the way first, as an appetizer before we get into the meaty parts of the episode. 

Gif from @ueasking

I counted and Bow and Kung hold hands in three separate scenes and that is enough evidence for me that they have fucked nasty. Moving on. 

There were two micromovements that I really appreciated in this episode, one from Lomfon and one from Patts. Unfortunately I will be bringing them to you in the form of screenshots because we *still* need people to be getting louder and gayer about this show and I am seeing a grossly low number of gifs for a show this fucking good. 

We know that Lomfon is interested in Tai, from the keychain he has, to the way that he immediately started questioning Tai’s connection to Patts vis a vis the soulmate thing, and those feelings Lomfon is still hung up on manifest in these very small ways. Namely, that Tai says he is bringing lunch to Patts and Lomfon’s head whips up

He looks a bit sad, and then he turns his head away so that he isn’t being obvious about this quiet devastation he has every time that he hears Tai talk about Patts. Because even though this show is clearly setting the stage of Lomfon and Tien to get together, London really needs to see that Tai understands that the hearing loss may not actually make you hear your “soulmate” and that Tai and Patts chose each other anyway, before he can truly allow himself to move on. 

By the by, one thing I am curious about with Lomfon is if now that he has heard Tai and Patts when it rained, if he will start changing his own mindset about soulmates. Kind of like a switcheroo, you know? Tai believes in soulmates so strongly that the divorce of his parents shook him to his core because it went his core belief that the hearing loss connects you to your soulmate, and he has learned throughout the course of this story and throughout the course of navigating his relationship to and with Patts that he cares less about whether or not the hearing loss connects to your soulmate, and more about the feelings he has for Patts. Lomfon believes so strongly that soulmates don’t exist because he has a crush on Tai, if he can now hear Tai, will he start believing that actually soulmates do exist and he and Tai are meant to be together, or will it further solidify his belief that soulmates don’t exist and he and Tai are meant to be together. Either way, he’s spent a total of like 1 minute of screen time with Tai so we know how this is gonna go, and it will not be pretty for Lomfon if he doesn’t wake up to his feelings for Tien soon. 

Ok, second micromovement is with Patts, who takes a microscopic step back when Nara tries to hand him the Bento Box

He wants to be fed by Tai, (or more accurately wants to eat Tai but I think we’ll be getting to that in Episode 9). Patts sees Nara and immediately knows why she is here. 

And what I love about Patts is that he isn’t mad or angry, he knows the ways in which his hearing loss and the potential of a soulmate has consistently harmed his relationship with Nara and how much she was willing to sacrifice of her own peace of mind to continue a relationship with Patts because she loves him. He loves her too, although not romantically anymore, and I know this because this is not the face of a man who is like “why the fuck is my ex coming over here when we very clearly separated?” This is the face of a man who knows precisely why she is here and is already feeling guilty about having to let Nara down once again, and confirm the fears she had while in their relationship about losing him to the stranger in his head. 

So in terms of body language, Patts cannot be more clear that he is no longer interested in Nara, and it is why I love that Tai explicitly tells Patts that he isn’t mad about what happened. 

Patts hands stay at his sides, he does not respond to any of her movements, he never touches her, he doesn’t deepen the kiss, he doesn’t even move his lips. If we look back at other examples of times he has kissed someone he loves, we know that this is not his standard operating procedure. Even in the flashback to his last kiss with Nara two months prior, he was in to the his, he was touching the back of her neck, he was an enthusiastic participant. Here, he lets her kiss him because he knows that Nara needs both a final confirmation that his feelings for her are no longer what they once were and a final goodbye so she can transition in to a new phase of her relationship to Patts, friends. (At least I hope they are able to remain friends, with the way Nara care about Tai’s wellbeing and the way she understands how important Tai is to Patts, I want more stories that allow exes to be friends.)

Tai sees them, drops his bisexual flag coded bento box he prepared for Patts and runs off to the mountain to spiral about his feelings about Patts, soulmates, and his sincerity of his connection to both of them. 

Patts finds the lunchbox, uses that veterinarian brain of his to make the connection and immediately starts looking for Tai. Which leads us to the first crack in Tien’s armor. Something I already talked about in my stray thoughts post because I was too busy being gay and my brain was too busy coming down from the high this episode brought me that I was not able to turn my analysis brain on.

We got Tien breaking down, running off to go do something brash and stupid…like climb a mountain with no preparation…like brother like brother I guess…and Lomfon chasing after him to make sure that he does not. 

Now, Tien says “Doi Mae Pilang. Soul mate.” with a concerned and searching tone in his voice, and Lomfon reacts by looking genuinely concerned back.

We can argue back and forth about whether or not this concern is for Tai or for Tien, but the fact remains that Lomfon’s eyes are laser focused on Tien. He is worried and waiting, and it takes less than a second for Lomfon to go chasing after Tien when he takes off towards the mountain. 

At which point we get our first intentional, certain touch from Lomfon to Tien. Whereas previously, we saw that Lomfon was struggling to figure out where and how to place himself, and his hands when Tien took a nap on him, here, he is does not get lost in his head. He grabs Tien firm by the arm

Gif from @ueasking

By the shoulders

Gif from @ueasking

By the chest

Gif from @liyazaki who is as much of a hands demon as I am

Who keeps Tien pressed closely too him, and tells him, firmly, sincerely that he is here for Tien 

Gif from @liyazaki from their before and after post

And though this moment is washed the fuck out because of the light, I love that effect explicitly because to me, this is a visual representation of the idea that Lomfon is bringing light and warmth in to Tien’s life. Or that he will be. In this scene Lomfon is acting like a guide to Tien, making sure that he does not run off and get himself hurt too, making sure that he knows that he has support, comforting him when he is upset. 

And while at first Tien is turned away from it, trying to break from it, running from it, eventually he melts. 

Gifs from @liyazaki

And Lomfon reacts initially with a brief moment of surprise, before once again placing all his attention on studying Tien. This is a moment of vulnerability for Tien, something we have not seen, and Lomfon is taking it in stride. In fact, the only people that Tien has really let himself lose control around has been Lomfon. He trusted Lomfon enough to get drunk around him, to take a nap on him, to cry in front of him. 

Even with Tai, while he allowed himself to be mad, and to hug his brother tightly, and to cry, Tai did not see and will not see the full on breakdown Tien had the previous day. Tien does not let Tai know how impacted he is by anything, because he has been acting as an emotional support for Tai for the past two years. As a fellow emotional laborer, I have an extremely difficult time asking people for help and an even harder time when it comes to people who I know are also emotional laborers. Tien has been doing a massive amount of emotional labor for Tai, and that means not letting Tai in to the entire depth of his own thoughts and feelings. At least, that’s part of my read on it. 

So what do we get from Lomfon’s physicality with Tien in this scene? When Lomfon places his hands on Tien, he does not move his fingers, not like Patts does with Tai. But that does not mean that there is no movement in these scenes. His head moves, he is turning his attention to Tien. His eyes move, he is analyzing Tien and trying to read his emotions, trying to adapt to this new version of Tien he has never seen before. Lomfon moves his body, he rocks with Tien when Tien starts to collapse, when they hug, Lomfon is moving with Tien, but his hands remain steady. When Tien hugs him at the end, he pats Tien’s back and while he’s not slapping him, he is certainly not patting his back gently/softly.  Lomfon is solid, stable, logical. He will pull Tien back when Tien’s passion escapes from its leash. He will ground Tien when the world feels like it’s falling out from under him. But he he will not be so rigid that Tien is unable to do things he wants/needs to, he can still move the way he needs to, when he wants to change his position, he breaks free easily from Lomfon’s grasp, when he turns to hug Lomfon, Lomfon is not expecting it but he leans in to the hug, he roll with it. He lets Tien feel what he needs to feel, but makes sure that Tien is safe. 

We head up the mountain.

Gratuitous inclusion of Tai’s hand because I am absolutely obsessed with those rings on his fingers. 

Anyway, 

Rain and as a result, water, are incredibly important as a theme of this show. First of all, water belongs to gay people, second of all, rain and as a result, water connect Tai and Patts together, connected Tai’s parents together, still connects them together because as far as we know they will continue to remain voices in each other’s heads. So it is incredibly apt that Tai, when walking up this mountain to get clarity on where he himself stands in his beliefs around soul mates, in his relationship to Patts, falls and lands in water. 

Again, @respectthepetty taught me to look out for lines as barriers and lines as connectors. Here we have Tai’s hand, keeping him connected to water, and his sweater has two likes that visually still block his hand from the rest of his body. He has not yet figured out what his connection with himself and his beliefs are yet, and therefore despite the fact he’s reaching for it. Reaching for that knowledge, dipping a finger into the cleansing waters, he still does not have the clarity he needs. 

Until Patts shows up. 

Touch, again, this time with Patts hand resting over Tai’s shoulder, with Tai’s head cradled in Patt’s arm, with Tai’s back leaning up against Patts’ leg. Patts’ hand brushing gently across Tai’s side. 

Tai, injured, in pain, and about to faint called out to the man he’d refused to talk to for two years, and got an answer, and then Tai fell silent once again. 

“I was so worried about you”

“I can always find you”

“We are soul mates” 

And Tai smiles at that because he doesn’t care anymore, because he doesn’t care if the rain is right, if soul mates are real, Patts is here, Patts was worried, Patts will find him, Patts is patient, and reliable, and caring, and Tai can allow himself to give in to loving him. 

And if you will entertain me for just a moment, I want you to scroll back up a little to the wideshots of Tai cradled in Patts’ arms, and I want you to look at the hand that is draped along Tai’s ribs, and I want you to see the way Patts fingers move. We know from their previous make out scenes that Patts is constantly moving his fingers, scratching, and pressing, and ghosting over Tai. Here too, we see the trend continue, of these small ways that Patts gives comfort to Tai. Whereas Lomfon’s movements with Tien are bigger, firmer, more solid, because Tien needs stability and reliability like that. Tien’s emotions are simple but big, needing to be contained. Patts’ movements are smaller, gentle, softer, because Tai needs patience and comfort. Tai’s emotions are more complicated but simmering, needing to be carefully and meticulously tended to. 

Patts carries Tai down the mountain.

And Tai owes Patts an explanation. You know what, no, not an explanation, a conversation. Tai is ready to talk about these thoughts he has been having, the fears and hesitations that have been bubbling just beneath the surface, close enough to Patts to see them, close enough for Patts to rein in his horniness because he can tell that Tai isn’t comfortable having that level of intimacy with him yet. Because Patts knows a little bit about Tai’s hesitations, he has heard twice now the story of Tai’s parents’ divorce. 

And though at first he gave Tai comfort, when he found him by the water, when he wasn’t conscious, when he was more disoriented, and though he carried Tai down the mountain. Here is where conversation grows serious, and Patts, not being certain of where Tai is going to land with all of this, keeps his hands to himself. Tai tells him about how seeing Patts and Nara kiss got him thinking about, worrying about, wether Patts was giving up a truly good thing with Nara under the assumption that he and Tai were just supposed to be together. Tai tells him about everything, about how much it fucking hurts to worry about all this soulmate business, to be scared of all this soulmate business. About halfway through this monologue Patts starts fidgeting with his own hands, whether that is to rub out the growing anxiety in him or to get out some of the need he has to touch Tai I am not certain, but you can tell the gears in his brain are turning.

And it is not until Tai after Tai says he is not mad about Patts and Nara and after he admits that all “it fucking hurts” to grapple with whether or not soulmates exist and what that means for him, where Patts finally reaches out to comfort Tai. 

Even when he doesn’t yet know where this conversation is going. Even when it is entirely possible that Patts has just risked his life to rescue Tai, carried him down the mountain, and may still be broken up with because Tai is scared or uncertain. Even here in this moment of limbo, Patts still reaches out to Tai to make sure Tai feels how much Patts cares for him. 

Then he doesn’t let go. His hand moves from Tai’s back, to Tai’s elbow, to Tai’s thigh, Patts never breaking his attention on Tai while Tai talks him through his realizations. 

Patts is honest too, and destroys the last remaining threads of doubt Tai had in this relationship by assuring Tai that regardless of whether or not soul mates exist, regardless of whether or not that telepathic link that people get somehow miraculously connects them with their soulmate, that Patts loves Tai and would love Tai anyway. Patts may call Tai his soul mate, but he doesn’t have to see Tai that way, and he doesn’t need to be seen that way by Tai in order for their relationship to work. 

The theme I am loving the most that is coming out of La Pluie centers around that subversion. Tai believed wholeheartedly in soulmates, and that belief was shattered before his very eyes with his parents. Patts sees Tai at the bus stop with a cat, and finds him cute, before Tai and Patts even know they are the voices in each other’s heads, there is an obvious attraction. They are interested in each other because they are interested in each other, not because of the hearing loss. Tai holds himself back from falling too deeply for Patts, for being too intimate with Patts because he cannot get over the idea that one day it might possibly fall apart. But Tai’s father himself told Patts that these relationships take work. All relationships take work. If soulmates exist, and if you are somehow connected to them in your head, and if one day you meet, and fall in love, you cannot rely on the knowledge that you are soulmates to save you from ruining a relationship. If you don’t talk, if you don’t compromise, if you aren’t honest, if you don’t work at it, you won’t make it out the other end. 

And again, that is if soulmates exist, and I think with Episode 8, La Pluie is planting a flag firmly in the “soulmates do not exist” camp. 

Tai relinquishes the ideas he had about soulmates, and finally allows himself to love Patts.

Going back to physicality you can see Patts visibly relax and smile after Tai tells him he is happy that Patts is there. At which point 

gif from @liyazaki

Patts gets playful and cuddly, his hands wrap familiarly around Tai’s waist, Patts’ head slots in perfectly right where it belongs on Tai’s shoulder, and Tai lets himself be enveloped. 

gif from @liyazaki

Patts breaks out the first couples kiss, with that soft, fast sniff kiss on Tai’s cheek, because despite the fact they have not yet officially established they are boyfriends, Patts and Tai know that something in their relationship has changed.

gif from @liyazaki

Tai has come a long way from his make out session with Patts in episode 6 where he barely moved his fingers. Now, Patts and Tai war silently over who gets to hold the other’s hand. 

gif from @liyazaki

And we get a lot of lovely non-verbal communication here, both of them exhausted, needing to sleep, pressed up against each other. With Tai being hugged from behind, in beautiful parallel to his brother. They say goodnight, but Tai spends these last few minutes of consciousness before falling asleep, gently comforting Patts by gently stroking his thumb along Patts’ hand. Because he knows that Patts was worried, and that Patts has been through a lot today, and because he loves Patts, and because he can. Because he can touch Patts, because he can have these little

moments of intimacy, where he can feel Patt’s breathing against his back, where he can give small moments of comfort to someone he cares about. 

They stay like that all night, and when morning comes, Tai is still holding on to Patts. Letting Patts know that he is still there, letting Patts know that he will keep a hold of him as long as he can. From here through the end of the episode, they are touching as much as possible. 

When Tai wakes up, and sits up, Patts slides over and the inside of his elbow makes contact with Tai’s arm

They sit here together, and they talk, and Patts finally asks the question he has been wanting to ask for awhile. 

And it’s funny, isn’t it? How everyone was rushing around them? How they were strangers and then soul mates and Tai and Patts were trying to figure out how and where they fit into each others lives while at the same time knowing that regardless of whether or not this worked, that they would always be in each other’s lives in some form, because of the hearing loss. Patts and Tai can talk about boundaries in the car soon after they have met, and Patts can meet Tai’s father, and they can refer to each other as soul mates, but what does that even mean? 

What did it mean to them? What did it mean to Tai? What it meant was that Tai had something to fear, and while Tien was running around referring to Patts as his brother-in-law, Patts and Tai were in a “testing phase” as it were. With obvious attraction between them, but without having put a label on their relationship because they didn’t know where they stood. Because Patts did not know where Tai stood. 

Will you be my boyfriend? Up through this episode, we have really only heard Patts and Tai refer to each other as soul mates. Because that is what society labels people connected through the rain as. In having this conversation on Doi Mae Pliang about how it doesn’t matter if they are soulmates, Patts would still choose Tai and in Patts asking if Tai will be his boyfriend, I will be curious to see if they refer to each other differently moving forward. If we can trust the trailer for this show, we know that Patts refers to Tai at least once as his boyfriend. I think it would be especially poignant if the show moves forward with Tai and Patts referring to each other only as ‘faen’ and stepping away from the soulmate label, because the show has told us from the beginning, it’s not about soulmates at all.

gifs from @liyazaki

(tagging the la pluie defense squad: @bengiyo, @lurkingshan, @ginnymoonbeam and @shortpplfedup because its about damn time she starts the soulmates don't exist show)

#la pluie #la pluie the series #patts x tai #patts x saengtai #pattstai #pee peerawich #title tanatorn #suar kritsanaphong #copter nuntapong #tien x lomfon #lomfon x tien #lomtien #lomfontien #yet again I find myself incapable of writing normal lengths of text about my silly little gay shows #and yet again i continue to hope that if i split the text up with lots of pretty pictures people won't realize how long my posts are

[sweet-coffee-milk-tea]

I Need Genuine Help

Don’t worry it’s not that serious but still serious enough to me.

I’ll probably not get a response, this is my most active account online and that’s saying something.

I am going to go trigger happy with tags just to get this post out there so I apologize in advance!

Respond to this send me an ask reblog I don’t care just help me lol.

I don’t know what to do I have to many ideas and no one in my life to help me.

No it’s not mental health and no it’s not that I don’t have anyone I just don’t have anyone who will know how to help me with this.

I am overwhelmed with so many ideas so many stories I want to create in so many different mediums and my brain won’t let me choose one.

I don’t even have a hyperfixation that I can lean on right now to get going with like fanfiction/art.

So I’m stuck in a limbo bursting with creativity but no outlet.

There is another issue

I am exhausted after work and rather let my ideas whirring around in my skull things on easy mode while I watch shows that bring me up.

But that’s not creative, it’s gotten to the point that jotting down my ideas aren’t enough I need to do something.

But everyone I know will tell me to go the capitalist route and pick the one that can make you money the soonest even if it’s not what I am enjoying most at the moment.

But I can’t do it, call it undiagnosed adhd/autism or me being stubborn as fuck but I want to enjoy what I do I am incapable of starting anything if I don’t enjoy it so this is where you all come in.

Help me pick?

What is my limited range of people who can hear my voice interested in the most?

I am going to be doing all of these I am unable to keep away from all my ideas

My issue is taking the first step I would appreciate my audience/community to say what they want to see out of the choices I want to pick so at the very least I will have like one person interacting with my stuff.

So this 31 year old gayby is asking for help thank you for your time!

Love you all out there!

#writing #fnaf security breach #fnaf: sb #moon #moondrop #sun #sundrop #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #twilight #stephanie meyer #gay #art #vn #yandere #books #fanfic #fanart #fantasy #sifi #love #help #steve harrington #dca x reader #podcast #vampires #invader zim #zadr #demon

[sorikkung]

good boy gone bad | txt, skz & atz social media au [m.list]

genre: fluff, comedy, a pinch of angst but mostly just lots of pining, polyamory, suggestive content but (probably) no actual smut

au: non-idol au, fake dating au, bad boy makeover au

What's more outrageous to a conservative family than one bad boy rebel boyfriend? Five of them. Hell, why stop there? Sick of pining over your childhood bestfriends and wanting to stick it to your old folks, you decide its time to find as many fake boyfriends as you can to bring along to your sister's wedding. If they're too good on their own, that's fine - you can make them a whole lot worse.

a/n: if you enjoy this, please do reblog and/or give any feedback or reactions you might have! it makes a writer's day and keeps us writing :)

intros

1. two nerd best friends

2. felix is just, a really good friend :)

3. yeonjun does not hesitate, taehyun hates his friends, beomgyu narrowly avoids getting knifed in his sleep

4. hyuka isn't the best at keeping secrets - even his own.

5. y/n has bitches?!

6. felix lee joins the party!

7. bad boy makeover step one: fit check!

8. step two, taking "be gay, do crime" to a whole new level

9. call that the y/n effect!

10. realisations yet to be had

11. other side of the coin

12. one day. for now, welcome to superhell

13. taehyun remembers things and felix is a natural blonde

1. bickering like boyfriends already

15. thirst trapped in the gc

16. mutual blackmail.

17. just bros being bros (dancing gay little circles around each other)

intros [ii]

18. gay update: getting gayer

19. hongjoong likers club

20. intervention, interrogation, indirection

21. a queer indie production film. totally.

22. prove it.

23. for you.

24. the "auditions"

25. matchmaker extraordinaire, jung wooyoung

character checkpoint [i] (for keeping track of all the characters and relationships so far!)

26. so much can happen in so little time

27. bad bitch lessons, a.k.a the "audition" [4.8k]

28. amidst the chaos, new challengers approach!

29. lix gets every bitch except the one he wants

[more to come...]

#txt x reader #poly txt #tomorrow x together x reader #txt social media au #txt x you social media au #choi yeonjun x reader #choi soobin x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #kang taehyun x reader #huening kai x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids social media au #bang chan x reader #felix lee x reader #han jisung x reader #seo changbin x reader #poly stray kids #ateez x reader #ateez social media au #poly ateez #jung wooyoung x reader #kim hongjoong x reader #kang yeosang x reader #park seonghwa x reader #diverseinsertsknet #skz x reader #poly txt x reader #poly skz x reader #poly ateez x reader #male reader

[nona-gay-simus]

Taking a break from my regularly scheduled TLT content cause I wanna talk about the movie Do Revenge and how Drea was coded (intentionally or not) as a lesbian:

- The whole backstory of the movie (spoilers:) is that 13yo Eleanor had a crush on Drea and came out to her, and it was fine until Drea spread the rumor that Eleanor tried to forcefully kiss her. Literally, why would she do that unless it was to deflect from her own sexuality? Yes, kids bully each other but generally it's to hide own insecurities, because of bad home life etc. Also, in the movie Drea is a mean girl, sure, but only in retaliation to other people. She is never mean for the sake of it

- Drea is only dating her boyfriend Max for social capital. She doesn't care about him and in the beginning of the movie he's kissing her neck etc. and she's distracted thinking about her social status

- Later on in the movie she meets her actual love interest but is much more focused on the lesbian she needs to take revenge on

- Drea and LI boy (Russ) later talk again on the beach and she claims that their chemistry is off the charts and that she's "glad [she's] sitting on a towel" which... okay, i get that this was at least partially a joke and also he's in a bathing suit and also im demi so i absolutely cannot relate, but like. Babe. It was a three minute conversation. You're trying way too hard.

- At one point, he's literally going down on her and she's completely disinterested and faking an O, while stalking Eleanor's Instagram

- almost every scene she shares with Eleanor is very sexually charged. I mean she makes Eleanor call her "revenge mommy" lol

- Eleanor knows her deeper than anyone else in her life and they often cuddle etc.

- The two quickly become obsessed with each other (i mean Eleanor was before but still)

- they try to outdo each other coming up with unhinged things the headmaster (who s played by SMG) can do to them and them and it felt very much 'i want a hot lady to step on me' classic sapphic meme

I'm really glad we got one lesbian (or possibly bi? it's not very clear) protagonist and Eleanor does end up with a girl, but the whole movie could have been much gayer and i think would have been better for it

#do revenge #do revenge meta #drea #eleanor #dreleanor #revenge mommy #do revenge spoilers

[dayscapism]

K-Dramas recommendations & short reviews

Because I've watched way too many to not make a list. Warning: I like romance and fantasy a bit too much.

These shows made me cry. 10/10. Five stars. Recommend to anyone. They live in my mind rent-free:

Extraordinary Attorney Woo (2022) - Attorney Woo is such a wonderful person, I love her character. I can't say much about the representation, but I like that it opens up the conversation around autism & neurodivergence, discrimination and prejudice, particularly in work environments. I rarely like shows about law or lawyers but I was surprisingly engaged with the cases and the story. It deserves a second season. (The only thing I don't like about this show is they're pushing for a MinWoo and Choi Su-Yeon ship. Which huh--disrespectful.)

Hotel Del Luna (2019) - A great place to start with k-dramas if you like paranormal fantasy. This show has such a special place in my heart. I wanted a different ending but I am okay with it because it was a tight narrative. The main character is iconic (Man-Wol please step on me). The show has amazing sets, AMAZING costumes, an amazing OST, amazing and heartbreaking performance by Yeo Jin Goo. The main couple is so soft; like they're such good friends and coworkers and gentle with each other (eventually). It's enemies to reluctant friends to lovers. It's perfect for asexual viewers who want more than physicality in their romance shows. Cons: the secondary characters' goodbyes and backstories left a little to be desired. A few other nitpicks like Chang-Seong is the one to suggest the main character a new hobby instead of her just discovering it by herself.

It's Okay to Not Be Okay (2020) - Also a good place to start with k-dramas. This show is a lesson in good narrative; this has perfect writing & storytelling. The cast is so good. The female lead is an icon. The character work I excellent. The mental health issues are so well addressed and it taught me a lot about mental health I wasn't aware of. Each small minor character plays a very important thematic role. (The villain isn't the best thing ever but she serves her role in the themes and plot.) The production and the storytelling with the children's book animations are just *heart eyes*. The OST is so good too. You need to watch this to understand how good a k-dramas can be. A must-watch.

Goblin: The Lonely and Great God (2016) - This is the most iconic fantasy/paranormal k-drama ever. A lot of current tropes were started here I think (including the weird k drama last-episode time jump separation of the main couple). This show broke me. You will cry. The bromance and comedy are amazing here too. Gong Yoo and Dong Wook Lee have great chemistry. Main female lead is so cute and her character is so heartwarming. The ending felt a bit rushed. The death, existential related stuff with the grim reapers and such is so good tho.

Business Proposal (2022) - Best rom-com ever! (Well, it could be gayer tbh.) It's my new comfort show. I already watched it twice. It's campy, hilarious, chaotic, iconic and messy in a way that feels like real life (but obviously played up for drama and comedy). Excellent character work. The love interest is definitely written by a woman. Gorgeous cast (Sejeon omg I have a crush, but also the others). It was too short! I would have loved another episode, and more of Grandpa and Ha-Ri. Warning: this has the weird kdrama last-episode time jump couple separation.

W: Two Worlds (2016) - A young resident medic accidentally finds her way inside the webcomic her father created. Like, that premise is killer. We have Lee Jong Suk at his finest here; the character fits him so well. He was born to play a lead. This show has amazing meta-commentary on writing, authorship, and existential crisis. The confrontation between the webcomic character Kang Cheol and the author is insane! The main couple is an epic pair. Would rewatch. High wump value. Cons: The second part could have been more swoony with the romance, Kang Cheol kind of became a bit cold. (A warning: this show also has the k drama weird last-episode time jump couple separation.)

Would recommend with popcorn, I rate them 8/10:

Crash Landing on You (2019) - Really good. The main couple has the best chemistry I've ever seen. It's not that much of a personal fave show, but still pretty awesome and will tug at your heart. It got a bit overly dramatic in the last episodes and again, has that k-drama last episode weird time jump couple separation, but here it actually makes sense. And sort of mirrors the separation and eventual unification of the Korean Peninsula. It was very interesting to see the contrast between North and South Korea.

Shooting Stars (2022) - Aside from the terrible, horrible, insulting Africa storyline (where the male lead goes to 'help' African kids with water scarcity, not even a country name is called, he just goes to *gestures vaguely* Africa to help goddammit he's such a beautiful soul! /s) There's a weird creepy sugar mommy wannabe side storyline and it's weird and out of nowhere. But the rest of it is good and campy and the main characters are so cute. All the couples are cute. The male lead is a cute disaster. Female lead is also a capable cutey but a disaster when it comes to romance. It's hilarious. I love all characters. It's fun. It's great. It shows a very interesting side of the entertainment industry.

While You Were Sleeping (2017) - A man and a woman who don't know each other have precognition powers and after they meet, they use them to take down a corrupt lawyer. The show isn't very heavy on the romance, tough the pair work pretty well together. I liked the main actress. Lee Jong Suk has chemistry with anyone. The male role was not exactly a good fit for Jong Suk. He's so much more naturally charming than the character. It's a fun show to pass the time. The found family is nice and all the characters work great together. The mom is great.

The King's Affection (2021) - I'm going to be honest, I didn't finish watching this. Ups. I got bored after episode 15. It's a very slow show but what I watched was quite good. It was just not a show for me. Having a bisexual male lead was awesome, I appreciate that he falls for the main character while he thinks she's a man. (Could be gayer tho, just saying.) Pretty good discussions and reversals of gender cliches. It has complicated parent-child relationships that are very well written which gives a lot of heart and heartbreak to this story. The political stuff gets very convoluted. I really wish the queer part was bigger though, and not limited to the main couple. We could even have poly representation! I still have half a mind to finish this but I don't know There are so many other shows I'd rather watch instead. (Boy, I really need to get into the actually queer side of k-dramas because the side I'm currently on is giving me crumbs.)

Lovers of the Red Sky (2021) - The premise was so cool. This has so much lore I like and the setting is beautiful and rich, but it also has so much lost potential. The plot is very weak in the second half and could be restructured. I loved the atmosphere, costumes and the actors and their characters: the blind cursed scholar nobleman, the female genius cheeky painter and her friend trio and the prince are all great characters. Ahn Hyo Seop is pretty good in it and looks very pretty indeed in historical costume (but the design of the villain creature he's possessed/cursed with is so, so bad omg). Great premise failed execution. Good first half but it went over the rails quickly. Still entertaining if you like historical fantasy.

Romance is a Bonus Book (2019) - It's a bit slow and could have done so much more with the female lead and her child. She's a bit underwhelming and her daughter is barely in the story. The second female character played by Jeong Eu-Gene was awesome, I love this actress now. Lee Jung Suk is always looking hot and being an excellent actor with what he's given; he's very charming here. He could have chemistry with a piece of wood and yet I wasn't that fan of the romance. Maybe it's just because friends to lovers isn't my cup of tea. There's a weird out-of-nowhere backstory between the male leads. The commentary of ageism in the workplace is a bit surface level (it's not that big of a deal for the company if you're overqualified for a job, the point should be that is an issue for you and your career, who is too good for the company). You can tell the writers really care about books; it's definitely a love letter to editors and an interesting window into the world of book publishing; you can feel the love editors put into making books. Bonus: the founding members of the publishing company have very funny moments.

Do no recommend:

King: Eternal Monarch - Couldn't even finish this. I was so, so confused. The dialogue, narrative and backstory make no sense! Everything is so unnecessarily confusing. There's no chemistry between the main couple. The king and the bodyguard had more chemistry. Lee Jung-Jin (playing the villain Lee Lim) & Woo Do-Hwan (the bodyguard) carried this show and are pretty much the only thing good about it. The female lead is sidelined. It had an intriguing premise but failed execution.

What's Wrong With Secretary Kim - Skimmed most of the second half. It's a mess. The love interest CEO is such a narcissist and asshole he wouldn't be able to keep a working, healthy relationship with his partner without some serious therapy first. The female lead seems to be repulsed by him most of the time even when together and even looks scared when they get intimate. There's an unnecessarily convoluted plotline about the main lead's brother and a kidnapping in their past. It has tonal issues and it's cringy rather than funny. The secondary characters are just a lot of useless filler. The female lead sacrifices her independence and dreams to be with the main guy. Just go watch Business Proposal instead.

Moon Lovers: Scarlet Heart Ryeo - The only pro of this show is IU. The romance went the undeveloped route. Cheap-looking production, with too many episodes, melodramatic, characters pivot in place instead of naturally developing; it's definitely a telenovela. The point that the female lead is from the future doesn't even matter for the story (should have made her a Goryeo historian instead of a random cosmetologist). Pass!

Tomorrow - Could not finish watching. Please, please don't watch it if you're dealing with depression, bullying or suicidal thoughts. Please don't. By episode 2 I was just screaming at the screen. Problematic? This show invented the word problematic. The supernatural task force that's supposed to save people with suicide risk is terrible at therapy and suicide prevention. They tell the person trying to commit suicide, literally on the edge of a building about to jump, that they should do it, that they're weak, they should just jump, go ahead! Like ... what????

Mystic Pop Up Bar - Didn't capture me by episode 2. Got bored. Some say this is better than Hotel Del Luna but I don't agree.

Abyss - It's a weird tonal mix. Would have preferred if it leaned further into the absurd (go all in with the humour or don't at all), the sci-fi or the murder mystery. Instead of just revealing by episode 3 who the murderer is, quickly changing the plot into a chase after the villain, even though he's so lame. But also he is keeps killing people and it gets dark. And then we cut to the main couple being silly and cute. It's so jarring. The leads have a great dynamic and Ahn Hyo Seop knows how to differentiate his characters really well, give them their own flavour., but in the end it's just a cool premise, failed execution. Very average.

Currently watching:

The Crowned Clown - Very interesting concept and gorgeous, gorgeous visuals. Plot drags a little. Has some tonal problems and oversimplification of politics. The best part is when Yeo Jin-Goo acts with himself haha. He's such a talented actor.

The Uncanny Counter - Get's a bit melodramatic sometimes but all four main actors are insanely good.

Tale of the Nine-Tailed - The main romantic relationship needs a lot more development, but the entire show is worth watching just for Dong Wook Lee and Kim Bum as brothers.

Alchemy of Souls - 6/10 so far. Currently watching season 2/part 2. Aside from the prince, I don't particularly care for any of the characters. Unpopular opinion but the main romantic pair have no chemistry. Mu-Deok has more chemistry with Yul and the prince, and the prince has more chemistry with Jang-Uk. The lore is confusing and inconsistent: it breaks its own rules. (Two souls in one body what?? when was this established as a thing?) There's not enough foreshadowing and setting up the rules of magic in this world (the Ice Stone comes up as a deux ex mahcina big plot point in the last second). It also drags; the episodes are too long. There's a lot of saying and ultimately the show doesn't deliver. The narrative structure is straight out of a fantasy Wattpad. The set and costumes are fun and cool for a fantasy world, and the first episode was great.  

#k dramas #kdramas #recommendations #tv show recs #hotel del luna #it's okay to not be okay #goblin the lonely and great god #extraordinary attorney woo #business proposal #w two worlds #romance is a bonus book #lovers of the red sky #the king's affection #while you were sleeping #shooting stars #sh**ting stars #crash landing on you #alchemy of souls part 2 #the uncanny counter #tale of the nine tailed #the crowned clown #tomorrow kdrama #media recs #media recommendations #k drama reviews

[oh-snapperss]

oh god it got gayer. haha etho now RENS taking off YOUR armor. in the most HOMOEROTIC WAY POSSIBLE

etho can try to say that hes not crushing on ren but the only one hes fooling is himself, but sir. can you at least. not ignore poisoned stab wounds. yes you took it so ren wouldnt have to but REN DOESNT WANT YOU DEAD EITHER

i loved this whole chapter so so much. etho learning (trying at least) to let himself be vulnerable with ren, ren taking care of his injured crush second in command etho, etho at the very end realizing hes going to have to put his armor on in front of ren in the morning,,

i alternated between going "aww, theyre adorable", "these fucking idiots", and cackling madly the whole time i was reading. I am so incredibly excited for the next chapter

great work! (@hitheeprithee :D)

YEAHHHHH listen this entire fic did start off with me stumbling into my discord channel in a server and going guys guys guys. rentho knights and armor removal. so we HAD to have it go both ways yknow!!

Etho taking that poisoned dagger was SO important to his character. There's a line I think about in line with it from the first chapter:

Sixty steps left. Etho will die for his king one day. This is a fact of life he has known since he was merely a page, and a part of his soul that he’ll never abandon. He’ll die for his king, and do it with grace. 

I think to Etho, taking that dagger wasn't even a question. We see it in his mindset from the start--he will die for his king one day, and to him his duties and care for the king supercedes his own needs, even to the point of not going for a medic immediately for help. It also plays into him trying so desperately to keep those walls and invulnerability up, because if those walls go down... he's less than Ren's hand, or the soldier who will die protecting his king.

In reality he's more than that, of course, but that's just his thinking.

As far as the armor in the morning goes... ehehe. Idk idk i think that it's a little mortifying for Etho to think about. Not only is he gonna walk past all the soldiers without his armor, they're ALL gonna know it's in the king's tent, which really adds to that feeling of vulnerability and weakness that Etho just HATES in this fic.

thanks so much for the ask EEEEE it really made my day:D i'm gonna tag @hitheeprithee to make sure xey see this cause i have no idea how tags within an ask work LMAOOOO

#i have . way too many thoughts can you tell #i had to wait to answer this until i was able to write a fucking analysis whoops #laurie thoughts #varteeny1234 #rentho #trafficshipping