#I mean like. I do have a me. but it's not the same as a self

[thebibliosphere]

do you think pheromones would be a mcas trigger in an omegaverse type setting?

I mean, I’m allergic to my own menstrual cycle so probably. Sometimes other people’s body odor if it’s strong enough can make me wheeze so I imagine scenting and pheromones might have the same effect in that setting.

There’s probably some poor omega with MCAS in an omegaverse world right now looking at their calendar, realizing their heat is coming up, and just sighing. And also bitterly listening to their friends and coworkers complain about their heat cycles.

Like oh, how sad for you, you get inconveniently horny for a week 🙄

Meanwhile they’re eating Benadryl like tictacs and hoping their asshole alpha neighbor is wearing their scent blockers because the last thing they need is alpha stink on top of it all. They’ve never actually met them, but they can smell them.

This leads to an unlikely meetcute after the alpha next door has to stick them with an epi pen in the elevator and ends up going with them to the hospital.

When they find out the extent of what their omega neighbor is dealing with, it pings every protective instinct in their big stupid alpha brain in an entirely non-horny way.

Inexplicably they find themselves looking up low histamine recipes at 2am and showing up a few days later with hopeful offerings that won’t cause flares.

They start a fight with the landlord over the laundry facilities needing to be fragrance free and win. When people ignore the fragrance free rules (required to be upheld by ADA, btw) they start camping out in the laundry room and growling at anyone who brings a single scented bead into the space.

The instinct to protect goes so far that they show up one day with a hepa filter vacuum like “hey, do you mind if I just…” gesturing vaguely at the omegas apartment, and the omega watches in total bafflement from their allergy friendly nest as the alpha goes to absolute town on their apartment.

It’s only then that they realize they can’t smell them anymore, and realize the alpha has been wearing the strongest scent blockers on the market and the omega realizes, oh, oh, and goes all hot and squiggly all over that for once isn’t an allergic reaction.

It’s not lust. But it might just very much be love.

[victusinveritas]

Story below the cut to avoid a paywall.

There was no explanation, no warning. One minute, I was in an immigration office talking to an officer about my work visa, which had been approved months before and allowed me, a Canadian, to work in the US. The next, I was told to put my hands against the wall, and patted down like a criminal before being sent to an Ice detention center without the chance to talk to a lawyer.

I grew up in Whitehorse, Yukon, a small town in the northernmost part of Canada. I always knew I wanted to do something bigger with my life. I left home early and moved to Vancouver, British Columbia, where I built a career spanning multiple industries – acting in film and television, owning bars and restaurants, flipping condos and managing Airbnbs.

In my 30s, I found my true passion working in the health and wellness industry. I was given the opportunity to help launch an American brand of health tonics called Holy! Water – a job that would involve moving to the US.

I was granted my trade Nafta work visa, which allows Canadian and Mexican citizens to work in the US in specific professional occupations, on my second attempt. It goes without saying, then, that I have no criminal record. I also love the US and consider myself to be a kind, hard-working person.

I started working in California and travelled back and forth between Canada and the US multiple times without any complications – until one day, upon returning to the US, a border officer questioned me about my initial visa denial and subsequent visa approval. He asked why I had gone to the San Diego border the second time to apply. I explained that that was where my lawyer’s offices were, and that he had wanted to accompany me to ensure there were no issues.

After a long interrogation, the officer told me it seemed “shady” and that my visa hadn’t been properly processed. He claimed I also couldn’t work for a company in the US that made use of hemp – one of the beverage ingredients. He revoked my visa, and told me I could still work for the company from Canada, but if I wanted to return to the US, I would need to reapply.

I was devastated; I had just started building a life in California. I stayed in Canada for the next few months, and was eventually offered a similar position with a different health and wellness brand.

I restarted the visa process and returned to the same immigration office at the San Diego border, since they had processed my visa before and I was familiar with it. Hours passed, with many confused opinions about my case. The officer I spoke to was kind but told me that, due to my previous issues, I needed to apply for my visa through the consulate. I told her I hadn’t been aware I needed to apply that way, but had no problem doing it.

Then she said something strange: “You didn’t do anything wrong. You are not in trouble, you are not a criminal.”

I remember thinking: Why would she say that? Of course I’m not a criminal!

She then told me they had to send me back to Canada. That didn’t concern me; I assumed I would simply book a flight home. But as I sat searching for flights, a man approached me.

“Come with me,” he said.

There was no explanation, no warning. He led me to a room, took my belongings from my hands and ordered me to put my hands against the wall. A woman immediately began patting me down. The commands came rapid-fire, one after another, too fast to process.

They took my shoes and pulled out my shoelaces.

“What are you doing? What is happening?” I asked.

“You are being detained.”

“I don’t understand. What does that mean? For how long?”

“I don’t know.”

That would be the response to nearly every question I would ask over the next two weeks: “I don’t know.”

They brought me downstairs for a series of interviews and medical questions, searched my bags and told me I had to get rid of half my belongings because I couldn’t take everything with me.

“Take everything with me where?” I asked.

A woman asked me for the name of someone they could contact on my behalf. In moments like this, you realize you don’t actually know anyone’s phone number anymore. By some miracle, I had recently memorized my best friend Britt’s number because I had been putting my grocery points on her account.

I gave them her phone number.

They handed me a mat and a folded-up sheet of aluminum foil.

“What is this?”

“Your blanket.”

“I don’t understand.”

I was taken to a tiny, freezing cement cell with bright fluorescent lights and a toilet. There were five other women lying on their mats with the aluminum sheets wrapped over them, looking like dead bodies. The guard locked the door behind me.

For two days, we remained in that cell, only leaving briefly for food. The lights never turned off, we never knew what time it was and no one answered our questions. No one in the cell spoke English, so I either tried to sleep or meditate to keep from having a breakdown. I didn’t trust the food, so I fasted, assuming I wouldn’t be there long.

On the third day, I was finally allowed to make a phone call. I called Britt and told her that I didn’t understand what was happening, that no one would tell me when I was going home, and that she was my only contact.

They gave me a stack of paperwork to sign and told me I was being given a five-year ban unless I applied for re-entry through the consulate. The officer also said it didn’t matter whether I signed the papers or not; it was happening regardless.

I was so delirious that I just signed. I told them I would pay for my flight home and asked when I could leave.

No answer.

Then they moved me to another cell – this time with no mat or blanket. I sat on the freezing cement floor for hours. That’s when I realized they were processing me into real jail: the Otay Mesa Detention Center.

I was told to shower, given a jail uniform, fingerprinted and interviewed. I begged for information.

“How long will I be here?”

“I don’t know your case,” the man said. “Could be days. Could be weeks. But I’m telling you right now – you need to mentally prepare yourself for months.”

Months.

I felt like I was going to throw up.

I was taken to the nurse’s office for a medical check. She asked what had happened to me. She had never seen a Canadian there before. When I told her my story, she grabbed my hand and said: “Do you believe in God?”

I told her I had only recently found God, but that I now believed in God more than anything.

“I believe God brought you here for a reason,” she said. “I know it feels like your life is in a million pieces, but you will be OK. Through this, I think you are going to find a way to help others.”

At the time, I didn’t know what that meant. She asked if she could pray for me. I held her hands and wept.

I felt like I had been sent an angel.

I was then placed in a real jail unit: two levels of cells surrounding a common area, just like in the movies. I was put in a tiny cell alone with a bunk bed and a toilet.

The best part: there were blankets. After three days without one, I wrapped myself in mine and finally felt some comfort.

For the first day, I didn’t leave my cell. I continued fasting, terrified that the food might make me sick. The only available water came from the tap attached to the toilet in our cells or a sink in the common area, neither of which felt safe to drink.

Eventually, I forced myself to step out, meet the guards and learn the rules. One of them told me: “No fighting.”

“I’m a lover, not a fighter,” I joked. He laughed.

I asked if there had ever been a fight here.

“In this unit? No,” he said. “No one in this unit has a criminal record.”

That’s when I started meeting the other women.

That’s when I started hearing their stories.

And that’s when I made a decision: I would never allow myself to feel sorry for my situation again. No matter how hard this was, I had to be grateful. Because every woman I met was in an even more difficult position than mine.

There were around 140 of us in our unit. Many women had lived and worked in the US legally for years but had overstayed their visas – often after reapplying and being denied. They had all been detained without warning.

If someone is a criminal, I agree they should be taken off the streets. But not one of these women had a criminal record. These women acknowledged that they shouldn’t have overstayed and took responsibility for their actions. But their frustration wasn’t about being held accountable; it was about the endless, bureaucratic limbo they had been trapped in.

The real issue was how long it took to get out of the system, with no clear answers, no timeline and no way to move forward. Once deported, many have no choice but to abandon everything they own because the cost of shipping their belongings back is too high.

I met a woman who had been on a road trip with her husband. She said they had 10-year work visas. While driving near the San Diego border, they mistakenly got into a lane leading to Mexico. They stopped and told the agent they didn’t have their passports on them, expecting to be redirected. Instead, they were detained. They are both pastors.

I met a family of three who had been living in the US for 11 years with work authorizations. They paid taxes and were waiting for their green cards. Every year, the mother had to undergo a background check, but this time, she was told to bring her whole family. When they arrived, they were taken into custody and told their status would now be processed from within the detention center.

Another woman from Canada had been living in the US with her husband who was detained after a traffic stop. She admitted she had overstayed her visa and accepted that she would be deported. But she had been stuck in the system for almost six weeks because she hadn’t had her passport. Who runs casual errands with their passport?

One woman had a 10-year visa. When it expired, she moved back to her home country, Venezuela. She admitted she had overstayed by one month before leaving. Later, she returned for a vacation and entered the US without issue. But when she took a domestic flight from Miami to Los Angeles, she was picked up by Ice and detained. She couldn’t be deported because Venezuela wasn’t accepting deportees. She didn’t know when she was getting out.

There was a girl from India who had overstayed her student visa for three days before heading back home. She then came back to the US on a new, valid visa to finish her master’s degree and was handed over to Ice due to the three days she had overstayed on her previous visa.

There were women who had been picked up off the street, from outside their workplaces, from their homes. All of these women told me that they had been detained for time spans ranging from a few weeks to 10 months. One woman’s daughter was outside the detention center protesting for her release.

That night, the pastor invited me to a service she was holding. A girl who spoke English translated for me as the women took turns sharing their prayers – prayers for their sick parents, for the children they hadn’t seen in weeks, for the loved ones they had been torn away from.

Then, unexpectedly, they asked if they could pray for me. I was new here, and they wanted to welcome me. They formed a circle around me, took my hands and prayed. I had never felt so much love, energy and compassion from a group of strangers in my life. Everyone was crying.

At 3am the next day, I was woken up in my cell.

“Pack your bag. You’re leaving.”

I jolted upright. “I get to go home?”

The officer shrugged. “I don’t know where you’re going.”

Of course. No one ever knew anything.

I grabbed my things and went downstairs, where 10 other women stood in silence, tears streaming down their faces. But these weren’t happy tears. That was the moment I learned the term “transferred”.

For many of these women, detention centers had become a twisted version of home. They had formed bonds, established routines and found slivers of comfort in the friendships they had built. Now, without warning, they were being torn apart and sent somewhere new. Watching them say goodbye, clinging to each other, was gut-wrenching.

I had no idea what was waiting for me next. In hindsight, that was probably for the best.

Our next stop was Arizona, the San Luis Regional Detention Center. The transfer process lasted 24 hours, a sleepless, grueling ordeal. This time, men were transported with us. Roughly 50 of us were crammed into a prison bus for the next five hours, packed together – women in the front, men in the back. We were bound in chains that wrapped tightly around our waists, with our cuffed hands secured to our bodies and shackles restraining our feet, forcing every movement into a slow, clinking struggle.

When we arrived at our next destination, we were forced to go through the entire intake process all over again, with medical exams, fingerprinting – and pregnancy tests; they lined us up in a filthy cell, squatting over a communal toilet, holding Dixie cups of urine while the nurse dropped pregnancy tests in each of our cups. It was disgusting.

We sat in freezing-cold jail cells for hours, waiting for everyone to be processed. Across the room, one of the women suddenly spotted her husband. They had both been detained and were now seeing each other for the first time in weeks.

The look on her face – pure love, relief and longing – was something I’ll never forget.

We were beyond exhausted. I felt like I was hallucinating.

The guard tossed us each a blanket: “Find a bed.”

There were no pillows. The room was ice cold, and one blanket wasn’t enough. Around me, women lay curled into themselves, heads covered, looking like a room full of corpses. This place made the last jail feel like the Four Seasons.

I kept telling myself: Do not let this break you.

Thirty of us shared one room. We were given one Styrofoam cup for water and one plastic spoon that we had to reuse for every meal. I eventually had to start trying to eat and, sure enough, I got sick. None of the uniforms fit, and everyone had men’s shoes on. The towels they gave us to shower were hand towels. They wouldn’t give us more blankets. The fluorescent lights shined on us 24/7.

Everything felt like it was meant to break you. Nothing was explained to us. I wasn’t given a phone call. We were locked in a room, no daylight, with no idea when we would get out.

I tried to stay calm as every fiber of my being raged towards panic mode. I didn’t know how I would tell Britt where I was. Then, as if sent from God, one of the women showed me a tablet attached to the wall where I could send emails. I only remembered my CEO’s email from memory. I typed out a message, praying he would see it.

He responded.

Through him, I was able to connect with Britt. She told me that they were working around the clock trying to get me out. But no one had any answers; the system made it next to impossible. I told her about the conditions in this new place, and that was when we decided to go to the media.

She started working with a reporter and asked whether I would be able to call her so she could loop him in. The international phone account that Britt had previously tried to set up for me wasn’t working, so one of the other women offered to let me use her phone account to make the call.

We were all in this together.

With nothing to do in my cell but talk, I made new friends – women who had risked everything for the chance at a better life for themselves and their families.

Through them, I learned the harsh reality of seeking asylum. Showing me their physical scars, they explained how they had paid smugglers anywhere from $20,000 to $60,000 to reach the US border, enduring brutal jungles and horrendous conditions.

One woman had been offered asylum in Mexico within two weeks but had been encouraged to keep going to the US. Now, she was stuck, living in a nightmare, separated from her young children for months. She sobbed, telling me how she felt like the worst mother in the world.

Many of these women were highly educated and spoke multiple languages. Yet, they had been advised to pretend they didn’t speak English because it would supposedly increase their chances of asylum.

Some believed they were being used as examples, as warnings to others not to try to come.

Women were starting to panic in this new facility, and knowing I was most likely the first person to get out, they wrote letters and messages for me to send to their families.

It felt like we had all been kidnapped, thrown into some sort of sick psychological experiment meant to strip us of every ounce of strength and dignity.

We were from different countries, spoke different languages and practiced different religions. Yet, in this place, none of that mattered. Everyone took care of each other. Everyone shared food. Everyone held each other when someone broke down. Everyone fought to keep each other’s hope alive.

I got a message from Britt. My story had started to blow up in the media.

Almost immediately after, I was told I was being released.

My Ice agent, who had never spoken to me, told my lawyer I could have left sooner if I had signed a withdrawal form, and that they hadn’t known I would pay for my own flight home.

From the moment I arrived, I begged every officer I saw to let me pay for my own ticket home. Not a single one of them ever spoke to me about my case.

To put things into perspective: I had a Canadian passport, lawyers, resources, media attention, friends, family and even politicians advocating for me. Yet, I was still detained for nearly two weeks.

Imagine what this system is like for every other person in there.

A small group of us were transferred back to San Diego at 2am – one last road trip, once again shackled in chains. I was then taken to the airport, where two officers were waiting for me. The media was there, so the officers snuck me in through a side door, trying to avoid anyone seeing me in restraints. I was beyond grateful that, at the very least, I didn’t have to walk through the airport in chains.

To my surprise, the officers escorting me were incredibly kind, and even funny. It was the first time I had laughed in weeks.

I asked if I could put my shoelaces back on.

“Yes,” one of them said with a grin. “But you better not run.”

“Yeah,” the other added. “Or we’ll have to tackle you in the airport. That’ll really make the headlines.”

I laughed, then told them I had spent a lot of time observing the guards during my detention and I couldn’t believe how often I saw humans treating other humans with such disregard. “But don’t worry,” I joked. “You two get five stars.”

When I finally landed in Canada, my mom and two best friends were waiting for me. So was the media. I spoke to them briefly, numb and delusional from exhaustion.

It was surreal listening to my friends recount everything they had done to get me out: working with lawyers, reaching out to the media, making endless calls to detention centers, desperately trying to get through to Ice or anyone who could help. They said the entire system felt rigged, designed to make it nearly impossible for anyone to get out.

The reality became clear: Ice detention isn’t just a bureaucratic nightmare. It’s a business. These facilities are privately owned and run for profit.

Companies like CoreCivic and GEO Group receive government funding based on the number of people they detain, which is why they lobby for stricter immigration policies. It’s a lucrative business: CoreCivic made over $560m from Ice contracts in a single year. In 2024, GEO Group made more than $763m from Ice contracts.

The more detainees, the more money they make. It stands to reason that these companies have no incentive to release people quickly. What I had experienced was finally starting to make sense.

[thedeathlysallows]

18+ possessive!Bucky that likes to beg. what else is there to say really? lol

"Well? What do you think?" You do a little spin, the fabric of the dress twirling around you. Your smile is absolutely beaming as you smooth your hands over your new gift. "Thor said it's traditional Asgardian clothes worn on Eostre. The Spring Equinox."

Bucky swallows thickly, unsure how to answer your question. The dress is made from a pale pink fabric that's so thin there's no inch of you left to the imagination. Each of your curves are accentuated beautifully. If the way his cock stirs in his pants is any indication then he certainly likes it, but the idea of anyone else seeing you in this dress has him turning a little green. Jealousy rages in his gut, nasty and mean.

"Buck?" And you're suddenly so self conscious as you say his name that Bucky wants to kick himself. Your bright smile wavers slightly and you blink back tears. "Oh, it looks bad, doesn't it? I told Thor it wouldn't fit me the same as women in Asgard but he wouldn't listen-"

"You look beautiful, doll. Really." Bucky finally manages to find his voice in the midst of your rambling. He wraps his fingers around your wrist and tugs until you fall into his lap. "Did Thor get to see you?"

You shake your head, cheeks heating up in a shy blush. "No. Only you."

You're damn right only me, Bucky wants to say.

And so he does.

He says it and watches the way your breath catches in your throat while your thighs clench together reflexively. Your fingers grip the front of his Henley for dear life as his metal hand crawls under the hem of your pretty dress and strokes your bare skin. Heat rolls off Bucky in waves, all but consuming you.

"Spread your legs for me, sweetheart," Bucky purrs in your ear. You're quick to do as he says, earning a low moan from him. "Oh, good girl."

Bucky slips a finger between your folds, finding your clit and rubbing soft circles. You jerk at the initial sensation before relaxing into his familiar touch. He's always so good to you. So eager to please. Your head falls onto his shoulder while he plays with you, teasing you until you're a whimpering mess in his lap.

"That's my girl." Bucky kisses your forehead, trailing his lips to your neck where he bites down over and over. Not hard enough to break the skin, but enough that there will be a mark by the time he's finished. "My beautiful girl."

You whine out his name and a small, "please."

He grins widely. "Do you need something?"

"Buckyyy..."

"C'mon, use your words like a good girl and maybe I'll let you have what you want." Bucky takes this opportunity to sink two fingers inside your slick cunt, pumping them in and out of you slowly. He loves the way you squeal and squirm on top of him.

You bite down on his shoulder, muffling a loud moan. "You know what I want."

A laugh rumbles through his chest, sending vibrations all through your body. "Then take it, doll."

He lifts his hips enough for you to tug the waistband of his pants and boxers down, hard cock slapping against his stomach. You're practically drooling at the sight, desperate to have him inside you. Bucky, reading every emotion that flits across your face, grips your hips as you sink down on him. He watches in pure awe as he disappears inside you inch by inch.

"Oh, fuck, you're so good to me." Bucky buries his face in your tits, licking and kissing at the skin your dress leaves exposed. "So good."

Bucky could stay like this forever with his cock buried deep inside you. He means every word he says about how good you are. How absolutely perfect you are. Because he loves you.

He loves you.

So.

Fucking.

Much.

"Please let me cum inside you," he begs softly in a sharp contrast to the way the tip of his dick pounds against your cervix as you bounce in his lap. "Please, sweetheart, please... oh, God, you feel so fucking good..."

"Bucky... yes..." You all but sob out the two words, pleasure curling tightly in your belly before washing over your body leaving you tingling all over.

Bucky lets out a broken moan before spilling inside you. He holds you in place, making sure you get every single drop.

Fuck, you're such a good girl.

Bucky can't get enough.

[egophiliac]

EGO EFO EGO OVERBLOT SSR ANNOUNCED OVERBLOTS SSR ANNOUNCED MALLEUS' HAS BEEN SHOWN BANGS POTS AND PANS EGOOOOOO

OH NO

[izadi234]

Forget me not

-Warning: Contain yandere themes, neglected! gn!reader, mention of low self-esteem, the writer's first language isn't English.

Yan! Batfamily x gn!

Chapters

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7 (You're here)

Chapter 7

You were peacefully resting in your bed, dreaming about your celebrity crush when your obnoxious alarm clock rang. You groaned at the sound and normally you would turn it off but, today was an important day, today you were going to apply for your mentor. Without further ado, you got out of your bed, excited and somewhat nervous. It wasn't an exam but, you had to make a kind of resume and depending on that you were going to be assigned a journalism professional or as you would call it a mentor who would guide you in a more professional way. You would be fine with any professional, but you would like to have a mentor who had an excellent professional career and experience.Without thinking you got out of bed so you could start getting ready to go to college. You quickly had some breakfast and left your house like a flash, however, Mr. Johnson, the older man who rented you the apartment where you lived

.“Good morning, (Name)!” The older man who was sweeping the entrance of the building greeted you.

“Good morning, Mr. Johnson!” You greeted him with the same energy

“I see you are very happy today and with a lot of energy” he smiled at you

“That's right! It's a very important day today” you explained

“Oh really? Then I won't stop you anymore” the older man said softly

“Thank you! Have a nice day!” You said to walk again but out of nowhere you remembered something and turned around.

“Wait, Mr. Johnson!” You called him again and he turned to look at you

“Yes, (Name)?” He asked you

“I'll pay the rent today in the afternoon, it's just that in my rush I forgot the money in my apartment” you said a little embarrassed

“Oh, of course! Don't worry about that, kiddo!” said the older man with a smile

"Thank you very much! See you later, Mr. Johnson!" you said goodbye and then ran back to the university

Fifteen minutes later you arrived at the university faculty where your friends were already waiting for you to enter the classroom and finally be able to fill out those damn forms.

When you had your form in front of you, your mind went blank. What should you start with? Maybe with your grades! Or not, better with your practical performance! You were undecided and that was making you nervous since you only had an hour and a half to answer it.

No... You couldn't have an anxiety attack at that moment... Breathe...

Take a deep breath and close your eyes for a few moments.

You are a good student. A good human being

You can do this

Good. You knew how to start.

That was the fastest hour and a half of your life but you managed to make a decent resume in your opinion. You left the classroom with your friends, satisfied with your writing. With a calm heart you attended your other classes.

The day went by quickly in your opinion and soon you were on your way to your apartment. On the ground floor, there was Mr. Johnson again but now he was sweeping the entrance of his apartment. With a smile on your face you walked towards him.

That was the fastest hour and a half of your life but you managed to make a decent resume in your opinion. You left the classroom with your friends, satisfied with your writing. With a calm heart you attended your other classes.

The day went by quickly in your opinion and soon you were on your way to your apartment. On the ground floor, there was Mr. Johnson again but now he was sweeping the entrance of his apartment. With a smile on your face you walked towards him.

"Hello Mr. Johnson! I'll give you the rent money right now" you said and he seemed to pale a little when he saw you

"Y-you don't have to worry about that rent thing, (Mr. / Miss) (Name)" he said stuttering a little at first but with a nervous smile on his lips

"What? What do you mean? And you know you don't have to call me that right?" your smile faded a little when you heard the old man calling you

"I know, (Mr. / Miss) (Name)" he said still nervous "But I didn't know that..."

"You didn't know that...?" you asked, wanting to know what he meant

"I didn't know you were Bruce Wayne's kid..."

What the fuck?

"No, Mr. Johnson, he... he's not my father" you said a little confused

"No? He came to pay your rent and..." you interrupted

"He did what?" you said angrily

"Yes, and he also bought this building. He gave me a large sum of money and he's going to let me stay here with my family. He's a good man, your father" the older man smiled gratefully at you

No... He wasn't a good man. He and none of his other children were good to you.

What do they want from you now? Now that you were happy?

"No... I-I... I have to go..." you ran towards the elevators to go to your apartment

There weren't any cars that screamed Bruce Wayne outside the apartment complex and much less fit in the small parking lot. So that meant he was gone, right?

When you got to your apartment, you were going to open the door when you noticed something on the knob. It was a little scratched and turned more easily than in the morning.

Oh no...

Oh no...

Anyway you opened the door with your keys and even though everything was dark you could feel the presence of someone there.

"Okay, what the hell do you want?" you said as you turned on the lights so you could see Bruce better sitting on your couch

He was wearing a suit and had his hair combed, most likely he just left Wayne Enterprises.

"You have a nice apartment although... It's a little small" Bruce commented "I could give you a bigger one"

"Answer the question Wayne" you said with anger evident in your tone of voice

Bruce sighed and couldn't deny that hearing you call him by his last name as his rivals normally called him broke his heart a little more. He stood up and walked towards you to stop in front of you.

"I came to see how you were" Bruce said sincerely

You laughed at his words.

"See me? Me? Please! Don't make me laugh" you said with a smile but Bruce could see you were angry

"And you didn't have to pay my rent. I don't want to owe you more than I owe you"

"Owe me? (Name), you don't owe me anything" he was going to take your shoulder but you moved away from him

“I don’t want to have any relationship with you” you said while looking at him coldly

“As soon as I can I will pay you. Including my rent now” you sighed desperately

“You are my firstborn, my blood, (Name), I will always worry about you. We all worry about you” he said while trying to get closer to you but you just moved

I AM NOT YOUR CHILD!

It was what you wanted to yell at him but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing you frustrated with just his presence so you just sighed. You were better than him than all of them.

“How did you find out that I lived here?” You asked him, a little calmer

“I am the best detective in the world” he pointed out

“And yet it took you several months to realize that I no longer lived in the mansion” you attacked back, but before he could answer, you spoke again

“Look, I am going to say this to your face. You aren’t welcome in my home, I don't want your charity, I don't want anything from you so please go away” you asked him in a firm voice

A voice that seemed very familiar to him

“Okay” he nodded after a few moments of silence “I’ll leave but I won’t give up”

After that promise he left your apartment making you let out a shaky sigh

How the hell did he know where you lived? That was your first thought, then you remembered Alfred and Duke but soon you dismissed those thoughts when you remembered that neither of them knew where you lived.

The next few days were quiet, Bruce hadn't shown up at your apartment, much less his children. Everything had been very quiet and that put you on alert because you knew very well that Bruce always kept his promises.

You were in class, focused on the professor when suddenly the director of your course named Mr. Wilson, knocked on the door of your classroom.

"Sorry to bother you professor" apologized Mr. Wilson "But I need Mx. (Last name)"

"Sure, Mx. (Last name), please" the professor pointed to you so you could go to the director

Intimidated, you got up from your place and walked towards Mr. Wilson. Once both of them walked out the door you finally spoke.

"Did something happen, Mr. Wilson?" you asked him

"The rector wants to talk to you" the man answered

That took you by surprise. Did something happen? Why did the rector of the university call you?

The rest of the walk, both remained silent until they reached the principal's office.

"The principal is already waiting for you" your director said without further ado and left you in front of the door

Your hands were shaking and you could feel your heart racing. What had you done wrong? That was the question that was going through your head and without thinking you knocked on the door.

"Come in" could be heard from inside and without further ado you went in

When he saw you, the principal smiled at you and motioned for you to sit in a chair in front of his desk

"Did something happen, principal?" You asked politely as you sat down on the chair

"No, nothing bad happened, Mx. (Last Name)" he assured you "I just wanted to tell you something"

"Sure" you nodded and paid attention to what he was going to say next

"Well, you see Mx. (Last Name), I didn't know your father was Bruce Wayne" he started to say but you interrupted him

What..? Bruce had come...? That left you speechless but you spoke anyway

"Y-yes... H-he's my biological father but what does that have to do with this"

"Yes, Mr. Wayne came and told me that from now on he's going to be paying for your tuition so your scholarship has been completely withdrawn"

You paled at his words.

Did they take away your scholarship?

Your scholarship that you had earned with so much effort?

"And he also made a nice donation to the university" the rector noticed your bad state

"But you don't have to worry, Mx. (Last name)! Or should I call you Mx. Wayne?" Your father will cover all your expenses"

"Please don't call me Wayne" you asked him

"Oh..." he seemed surprised but he nodded "Sure, as you wish"

"T-that would be all?" you asked with a broken voice

"Yes... sure" the principal nodded a little confused with your reaction

Without further ado you got up and ran out of the building.

Why did he even have to get involved in your studies?

You didn't want to go back to class anymore and you were going to ask one of your friends to pick up your things, for now, you had to relax. You ran your hands through your hair pulling it a little, while you sat under a tree. You put your head in your hands, trying to control your breathing.

(Name)?" a voice near you spoke and you recognized that voice perfectly

You got up and saw Tim kneeled in front of you while he looked at you with concern.

"Tim..." you said as more silent tears fell down your face. cheeks "W-what are you doing here..?"

"I came to see a friend but... Did something happen...?" he asked softly

"No, nothing" you said as you stood up and turned around while wiping your tears

"Hey! Wait" Tim grabbed your wrist but you quickly moved it away from him

"Could you leave me alone, Drake?" you said irritated

"Something happened to you" the young man confirmed

"And how do you know that something happened to me?" you asked him while crossing your arms

"You were crying and you're angry" he pointed out "Besides, you're not like this. You're normally a nice person"

"And what do you know about me, Drake?" you asked coldly "We've lived in the same place for several years but no more and don't pretend that you don't know why I'm like this. You're Bruce's right hand man, he tells you everything and the rest of his lackeys but mostly to you. You don't know even the half of who I am. So now leave me alone"

You turned around and walked away from him towards another direction on campus, leaving Tim surprised by your words.

"You heard them, didn't you?" Tim spoke into the earpiece he was wearing

Tim couldn't deny that your words didn't affect him but you were right, he didn't know you and he never bothered to do so and that makes him feel guilty...

What would have happened if he had given you a chance like Duke did? Would you be just as close?

Yes, Dick was always with him when he arrived at Wayne Manor but normally he was in Bludheaven and he couldn't deny that there were times when he felt alone until he met his friends from the Young Justice League...

If he felt alone then you must have felt more alone... Only for 15 years...

He would have shared his loneliness with you and maybe today he would be in Duke's place and instead of seeing him with that cold look, you would look at him with love and affection... Like an older sibling looks at his younger brother. And yes, he knows he has more brothers but they didn't look at him in a tender way, but as an equal, as someone else, but he wants to feel that soft love that he sees in Conner and Jon and that he knew now you could give him.

"That's right. They didn't seem too happy that Bruce started paying for their tuition" Dick spoke

"To be fair, I would have reacted the same way" Jason said now who was eating what sounded like some chips

"Jason, you react like that to anyone" Tim said as he started walking

"I don't think you should have gone" Duke said who sounded nervous

"It was good to try" Tim said

"But now they seem more distant than before thanks to father and Drake" Damian said an angry

"Come back Tim and we'll talk more here" Bruce ordered

"Yes sir”

"Alfred, I think this is going to get out of hand" Duke said, as he walked around the kitchen

"I know (Name), they are very stubborn" he said panicked

"And I know them too, Master Duke" Alfred said while washing dishes "I know that what they have always wanted is the attention of the family and now they have it"

"And what happens if they find out that we are part of this? They will end up hating us! I-I couldn't stand it" said the young man scared

"Maybe I should send them a message to tell them that we didn't know about this?" he suggested hastily

"Message?" someone asked from the kitchen door Both Alfred and Duke turned to see who it was and opened their eyes wide when they saw Cass.

"Miss Cassandra" Alfred greeted but she only looked at Duke with an intense gaze

"Message?" the girl repeated again

"Y-yes..." said Duke in a small voice

"You have… (Name)'s number?" asked Cass

"Y-yes..." nodded Duke

"Miss Cassandra" the butler spoke again as he stood in front of Duke

"Yes, both Master Duke and I have (Name)'s new number”

"So both you and Duke have kept it from us that you have my child's number?" Bruce asked in a stern voice.

Once Cass found out about this, she quickly called a meeting when Tim returned. They were all in the Batcave with Bruce standing in the middle in front of Alfred and Duke, the buttler being calmer and the boy who was much more nervous.

"That is right, Master Bruce," Alfred nodded.

"Why did you hide this from us, Alfred?" Bruce asked, a little hurt, making Alfred's heart sink.

"First of all, it is worth clarifying that it was my idea, not Master Duke's, so do not get mad at him," Alfred began. "But I knew that if we told them we had their cell phone number, all of you would try to call them nonstop. I do not want to sound rude, but we know (Name) better than anyone, and they are just as cunning as all of you. If you start forcing this thin thread you still have with them, you will only make them break up, and then we would be in serious trouble. You neglected them for years; this new attention from all of you is uncomfortable and overwhelming. You can not force this if you want them to come home again."

Everyone fell silent at Alfred's words, for he was right. They can't expect you to accept them back so quickly, but eventually you would...

No?

"Fine, Alfred, Duke," Bruce nodded. "Tell us what we should do."

Alfred's heart began to beat faster, though no one could notice. Finally, his plan was coming together now that the whole family was on the same page. Some more than others, but soon everyone would see you as he did.

Hello!

How are you all doing? FINALLY I FINISHED THIS CHAPTER! I hope you liked this chapter and If you did any kind of interaction would be appreciated as I would like to ready your opinions or ideas for this story! Anyway, I also wanted to ask you, would you like to see another character interact with (Names) from the DC universe and outside the batfamily? I would love to know your opinions!

Anyway, I hoped you like this chapter and I also hope to ready your opinions!

See you in the next one and I love you all!

-Izadi <3

TAG LIST

@eyeless-kun @profounddestinyrebel @holyfishbailiffpeanut @toast-on-dandelioms @dhanyasri @kiarst @phoenixgurl030 @wpdarlingpan @glitterisname @sackofsadstuff @riddle-me-im-sirius @sirenetheblogger @bat1212 @bluelock4life @revysplacexxx @skz-goose @mistfire1999 @vanessa-boo @tatsuri-zomushiki @kore-of-the-underworld @milliu @lee-bits @ch1@ch1cky-093 @leiiasurez @bluemidnightmelodies @lilyalone @plsfckmedxddy @lovebug-apple @jisnothere @akanegotlost @stormz369 @sugarpiehoe @mddbsf @shhhhhhhhhhtellnobody @i-adorehannah @darktrashpoetry @fantasyhopperhea @d3sperate-enuf @expctron @horror-lover-69 @caffeinatedhearts12 @niggrroo @v3llev3t3 @cynniee @imhere2dosomething @verypersonadazzel @asillysimp @type-ink @wisefuncherryblossom @haruskrd @angelicbear @zoeyburton @twismare @bad4amficideas @casspen-starlight @gwyneveire @ferchu0406 @erinhan08 @yoopsity @aki-anikk @24-7aroundtheclockanxious @ferntv @hunter-hears-all @gwyneveire @yuyuzi-ling @shirp-collector-of-fixations @welpthisisboring @jellyedkazoo @mellowcloudland @rainwaterxx @lunaetiicsaystuff @ryuushou @butratherbutrather @tiredhealer5 @nemesis-writer @jjsmeowthie @a4g3lstarfire @chibikochannumberone @hayley1234 @thestarry-nightfox @kittzu @sillyheartmoonnyx @trashlanterfish360 @c4xcocoa @tenderboar @levi-09 @cluelessteam @burningkittenprince @lexi2005 @uu-uuu @arwenyukiamoto @senhoritaapple @sujusfs14499 @oliviaewl @unearthlykara @lupher @bunniotomia

[5sospenguinqueen]

Look Ma, I Made It | Liam Lawson x O'Ward! Reader

Summary: For years, you've been known as the younger sister of Indy driver, Pato O'Ward. Now you're going viral for a very different reason, all thanks to a small feature on F1 Wags.

Warnings: fluff, swearing, suggestive comment, being a liam lawson apologist 

Requested: yes by anon. i know you changed the fc to claudia cook gomez but i already had this planned and i couldn't find enough pics for her so i’m really sorry 

Faceclaim: Shira Klein 

F1 Masterlist

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

yn_oward just posted

liked by kimi.antonelli, lilyzneimer and others 

yn_oward what do you mean this doofus got to drive an f1 car on our home turf??? he’s going to be unbearable after this 

22,590 comments 

patriciooward photographic evidence as to why i am the favourite child 

→ yn_oward “oo i can drive cars fast. i can pull off the colour orange” yeah, well, i can down a pitcher of mojitos in 6 seconds

→ elbaoward pride and joy of the family 

olliebearman only you could turn a post about your brother into a shameless selfie share

→ yn_oward but how hot am i 

→ olliebearman i fear there’s no safe way to answer this 

→ user1 every day ollie wonders why he chose to befriend y/n liked by olliebearman

liamlawson30 what do you mean you were in the paddock and didn’t come and say hello? 

→ user2 why would she?

→ user3 because they were friends growing up

→ yn_oward i couldn't get away from my fans (pato)

→ patriciooward nurse, she got out again 

liamlawson30 just posted

liked by logansargeant, patriciooward and others 

liamlawson30 mexican madness

67,048 comments 

user4 excuse me, mr lawson, sir. is that a woman?? 

yukitsunoda0511 that angle does me dirty. why do i look so small?

→ visacashapprb i think there’s something we need to tell you… 

user5 i’m confused. did anyone else know he was in a relationship?

user6 is this what gen z call a soft launch? 

yn_oward you’re strong enough to carry a woman? those noodle arms look like they’d snap 

→ liamlawson30 i’m going to pretend like that didn’t hurt my feelings

→ user7 this feels flirtatious to me 

→ user8 and pato liked this post?? 

olliebearman another victim of the ‘my legs are tired’ club,  i see 

→ user9 you know this woman?

→ user10 quick, someone make a list of potential people 

jackdoohan oh it’s finally happening 

→ user11 what do you know

→ user12 let us in 

yn_oward just posted

liked by jackdoohan, oscarpiastri and others 

yn_oward autumn dump 🍂🍁

26,993 comments 

patriciooward i have a reputation to maintain. take this down. i am a serious athlete 

→ arrowmclaren we’ve already passed this on to your trainer

user1 why is no one else commenting on the hoodie photo 

→ patriciooward because we are disgusted and trying to ignore it 

→ user2 i think it’s hot 

user3 so her brother only gets one pic, her bestie only gets one pic but her soft launch gets two!! 

→ user4 y/n’s man, reveal yourself! 

liamlawson30 it looks like you’re trying to smother that man 

→ yn_oward i can assure you, he enjoyed it

→ patriciooward ewwwww

olliebearman the pinata deserved it!

→ yn_oward if i remember correctly, you didn’t end up breaking it

→ olliebearman you’re next 🏌🏻

→ patriciooward get her ass

→ yn_oward why does your social media never get taken away from you. @/arrowmclaren do better 

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

f1wags just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, patriciooward and others

f1wags breaking news! y/n o’ward was caught coming out of liam lawson’s garage during the mexican grand prix. the newest f1 driver was snapped pulling her back for a kiss goodbye 

19,009 comments 

user5 he pulled her???

user6 i think liam should release a manual on how to convince a girl wayyyy out of your league to date you 

user7 not charles liking this. he’s such a gossip girl 

→ user8 i bet he sent it to pierre

user9 so this is why they were soft launching around the same time

→ user10 i just thought it was coincidental 

→ user11 that’s because no one thought the cars maniac could pull y/n o’ward 

user12 pato liked this 😂

user13 why is everyone acting like liam lawson ain’t fine??

→ user14 what i’m saying! y/n o’ward is panty dropping but liam is hella fine as well

→ user15 i think if he had a different haircut, it would be over for the rest of the grid 

yn_oward hey look ma, i made it 

yn_oward and everyone thought pato was the famous sibling 

→ olliebearman this is your only reaction to this? 

patriciooward just posted

liked by landonorris, arrowmclaren and others 

patriciooward yes, they are disgustingly sweet together. i have suffered for the past 3 years so now you lot can too 

71,305 comments 

elbaoward i hope you had permission to post these, pato

→ patriciooward why? it’s not like they haven’t been caught already. everyone knows. she’s a pinned post on f1 wags 

→ yn_oward i’m a famous lady 

olliebearman these are the nice photos btw, guys. i have ones of them fighting each other

→ user1 we need to see these as well

→ yn_oward i am a lady. i am polite and docile

→ liamlawson30 baby, they’ve all seen photos that indicate otherwise

visacashapprb it’s nice to see pictures that don’t include y/n trying to climb liam like a tree 

→ patriciooward that is not a comment i want to see ever again 

yn_oward i knew you secretly liked us because these candids are so cute. wtf pato. i didn’t know you were capable of niceness 

→ patriciooward why have you misinterpreted the point of this point. i’m trying to embarras you 

→ yn_oward you love me, and my boyfriend 

→ liamlawson30 i’m really feeling the love bro. a whole post dedicated to us 

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

Bonus

yn_oward just posted

liked by francolapinto, kellypiquet and others

yn_oward usually when your man gets a haircut without telling you, it ruins your sex drive. that was not the case today

22,994 comments

olliebearman i don’t think we should be friends if you’re going to continue this way 

→ jackdoohan i second that because bleurgh 

kimi.antonelli i miss when i couldn't read

→ yn_oward i didn’t know you were old enough to know how to 

patriciooward ew. ew. ew. ew. ew

→ patriciooward just ew

→ patriciooward blocked, deleted, removed

→ patriciooward i’m going to go and pluck out my own eyeballs

→ arrowmclaren no. you need them to race 

redbullracing we’re going to need to have a chat about pr 

→ yn_oward crap. @/liamlawson30 either you quit or we break up 

→ liamlawson30 nice try, babe. based on the way you threw yourself at me when i walked through the door, i don’t think you’ll let me go 

→ redbullracing we’re going to need to have a chat about pr 

━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━

requests open

tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lilorose25 @sillyfreakfanparty @justaf1girl @piastri-fvx

[holyblonded]

adoption day | stargirl

pairings: alexia putellas x teen!reader, olga rios x teen!reader

summary: you manage to make you adoption day chaotic

warnings: abandonment issues(?)

notes: the ending is a bit similar to teenage dream but this was written first and idk how else to end 😭 i almost revealed estrella’s real name but decided against it

The house is too quiet. Too quiet. Alexia’s stomach is in knots as she turns to Alba, her voice sharp but low. “What do you mean she’s not in the house?”

Her eyes flick toward the hallway, making sure Eli and Olga don’t overhear. She doesn’t want to worry them— not yet. But the urgency in her voice is unmistakable.

Alba forces a tight-lipped smile, waving casually as Eli and Olga step out to grab more disposable plates and cutlery for the party later that evening. The second the door shuts behind them, her expression drops.

“I mean that I have torn through every single room in your godforsaken house, and Estrella is not in any of them,” she hisses. Alexia’s stomach sinks. “We have to find her,” she says immediately, already grabbing her keys. “We have to be at the courthouse soon.”

Alba groans, rubbing a hand over her face. “She knows what today is. Why would she disappear now?”

Alexia doesn’t have an answer.

They search everywhere. The backyard. The front yard. The neighbor’s driveway, just in case. The park down the street. Your favorite café around the corner. Nothing. No sign of you.

Alexia’s worry mutates, twisting into frustration. She pulls out her phone— no missed calls, no texts. Not even a single, stupid emoji from you.

“She’s going to give me a heart attack before she’s even legally my kid,” she mutters, pacing the sidewalk.

Alba, just as frantic but unwilling to admit it, crosses her arms. “You think she ran?”

Alexia stops pacing. The thought stings more than she wants to acknowledge. “No. No, she wouldn’t.”

“She might,” Alba counters, voice quieter now. “She panics sometimes. Maybe it’s too much for her.”

Alexia clenches her jaw. “Then we find her and tell her it’s okay.”

They split up again, checking every place they can think of, but the clock is ticking.

The courthouse appointment looms closer.

And still, there’s no sign of you.

Alexia’s grip tightens around her phone, her breath coming short. She’s about to call the police, or hunt you down herself, or…

The front door creaks open.

Both she and Alba whirl around at the same time, watching as you shuffle inside.

You look exhausted.

Hair slightly disheveled, hoodie too big on you, shoes scuffed like you’ve been walking for hours. Your expression is guarded, your shoulders hunched—like you’re bracing for impact. But more than anything, you look guilty.

Relief crashes over Alexia in a dizzying wave. It’s quick, sharp, and almost immediately replaced by frustration.

“¿Dónde has estado?” she demands, crossing the room in seconds. Her voice is firm, but there’s a raw edge to it. “Where were you? We’ve been looking everywhere.”

You hesitate, your gaze flickering toward Alba before landing back on Alexia. “Out.”

“Out where?” she presses, hands hovering near your shoulders, like she wants to shake the answer out of you but is afraid you might break.

You shift uncomfortably. “Just… around.”

Alba narrows her eyes. “Around where?”

You glance at the floor, shrugging slightly. “Just walking.”

Alexia exhales sharply, running a hand through her hair. “Estrella, hoy es el día. We have to be at the courthouse soon—”

“I know,” you say quickly.

She stops, studying you. There’s something off. Something unreadable in your expression.

“Then why disappear?” she asks, quieter now.

You don’t answer right away. The front door swings open again, saving you. Olga and Eli step inside, bags in hand. The air in the room shifts immediately, tension settling in thick and heavy. Olga raises a brow, glancing between all of you, while Eli exhales like she already knows exactly what just happened.

“You found her,” Eli notes, setting the bags down.

“Barely,” Alba mutters.

Alexia’s frustration softens, just a little. Her eyes stay on you, the fight in her fading into something warmer, something quieter.

“You’re here now,” she murmurs, reaching up to cup the side of your face briefly before letting her hand drop. “That’s what matters.”

You look away, shifting on your feet.

Olga watches you carefully. “You okay, bebita?”

You force a small smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. “Yeah. Just… a lot on my mind.”

Alexia sighs. She doesn’t push. Not now.

There will be time for that later.

“Come on,” she says, nudging your shoulder lightly. “Let’s get you changed.” A small smile tugs at the corner of her lips. “We’re going to make this official.”

You nod, following her down the hall.

But even as you move, your expression remains unreadable.

You stand stiffly in front of the courthouse, fingers twisting the fabric of your dress in a desperate attempt to smooth it down, to steady your shaking hands, to control something. But nothing feels in your control.

Your chest is tight, your stomach churns, and your vision blurs slightly as you blink rapidly, trying to hold yourself together. You should be happy. This should be one of the best days of your life. So why does it feel like you can’t breathe?

A warm hand presses gently against your back, and you flinch so hard it’s obvious.

“Mi amor,” Olga’s voice is soft, laced with concern. Her eyes scan your face, taking in the tension in your jaw, the way your shoulders hunch like you’re trying to make yourself smaller. “You guys go ahead, find the room,” she tells the others, not taking her eyes off you. “I’m going to talk to Estrellita real quick.”

Alexia, already watching you closely, doesn’t hesitate. She steps forward, placing a quick, gentle kiss on your forehead, then on Olga’s, before catching up to her sister and mother.

Olga guides you toward a bench overlooking a small park, where children run freely, their laughter ringing through the air. It feels like another world—one you can’t quite reach.

She sits beside you, but not too close, giving you space, waiting.

“Alright, mi nena.” Her voice is low, soothing, but firm. “What’s going on? You’ve been quiet all day. It’s not like you.”

A sharp exhale rips from your chest— too deep, too heavy, like you’re forcing the weight of everything inside you out in one breath. Your hands clench together in your lap.

“I’m scared, Olga.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, but she hears every word.

“I want this. I want to be Ale’s daughter. She’s been more of a mom to me than my real mom ever was. I want to be part of this family, officially, but I’m terrified. What if one day she decides she’s not ready? Or she changes her mind?” Your voice cracks, but you push forward, words spilling out faster now, harder to control.

“What if one day you and Ale want to start a family and I prevent that? What if I just get in the way?”

Olga shakes her head instantly, but you don’t let her interrupt.

“I can’t let that happen,” you murmur, eyes locked on the pavement like if you look up, everything will become too real. “I spent my whole life praying for a family like this, one that wanted me, that cared about me, that let me just…be me. And now that I have it, I’m scared that once it’s real, once it’s official, it’ll all just—” You take a deep, shaky breath, voice barely holding together. “Go away.”

Olga doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, she pulls you into her arms, cradling you against her chest like she’s trying to shield you from every fear, every doubt, every ghost from your past whispering that you don’t deserve this.

You feel a tear drop onto your hair.

“Mi amor,” she whispers, voice thick with emotion. “Oh, mi corazón.” She pulls back just enough to cup your face, forcing you to meet her eyes. “Listen to me, and listen carefully. You are not in the way. You will never be in the way. Alexia, Eli, Alba, me, chose you. Not out of obligation. Not because we had to. Because we want you. Because we love you.”

Your breath shudders. “But what if—”

“No.” Olga shakes her head firmly, thumb brushing against your cheek. “There is no what if. This is your family. We are your family. And that is never going to change.”

You don’t realize you’re crying until she wipes a tear from your cheek.

You let her hold you for a little while longer, letting her warmth sink into your bones, letting yourself believe, really believe, that maybe, just maybe, she’s telling the truth.

Eventually, Olga presses one last kiss to your forehead and stands, holding out her hand.

“Ready?”

No. You’re not sure you’ll ever be ready. But you nod anyway and let her lead you inside.

The moment you step into the courtroom, you freeze.

The room is packed. Not just with Alexia, Alba, and Eli. Not just with Olga.

The entire Barcelona team is there. The coaching staff. Your friends: Vicky, Lamine, Alejandro, Héctor, Pau. People who have been there for you, who have stood by you, who have loved you without hesitation.

Your breath catches, and for a split second, that familiar panic claws at your chest. But then Alexia steps forward, smiling at you with so much warmth, so much love, that the fear starts to melt away.

She reaches for your hand, squeezing it tightly. “Come on, mi Estrelleta.”

You let her guide you forward, your other hand still holding onto Olga.

The judge begins speaking, but the words blur together. Your heart pounds as the moment approaches, as everything you’ve feared and longed for comes to a single point in time.

“Do you, Alexia Putellas, accept this young lady as your legal daughter, with all the rights and responsibilities that come with it?”

Alexia doesn’t even hesitate. “Sí. Always.”

“Then by the power vested in me, I hereby declare Alexia Putellas as the legal parent and guardian of ‘Estrella’ Putellas.”

The room erupts into cheers.

And before you can fully process what just happened, Alexia sweeps you into her arms, lifting you off the ground as you cling to her, burying your face in her shoulder.

“I love you,” she whispers fiercely into your ear. “Forever. Unconditionally. Do you hear me?”

You nod against her, too overwhelmed to speak.

“I’m never letting you go,” she promises. “Not now. Not ever.”

Even though you never responded, you believe it.

The party is in full swing. Laughter echoes through the house, glasses clink, music hums in the background. The Barcelona team is here, the coaching staff, your friends, everyone who has loved and supported you. There’s warmth, celebration, and a steady stream of people hugging you, ruffling your hair, calling your name with joy.

The air feels thick, the noise pressing against your skin, the walls closing in just slightly. Your heart beats too fast, and your breath comes too shallow. You can’t explain it; it’s not sadness, it’s not fear, but it’s something. A pressure in your chest, a weight in your throat.

Alexia notices. Of course she does. She’s been watching you all night, eyes flicking to you between conversations, gauging every twitch of your fingers, every shift in your expression. So when she sees you standing by the back door, shoulders tight, eyes distant, she excuses herself from a conversation with Lucy and moves toward you without hesitation.

She doesn’t say anything at first. Just nudges your arm gently with her elbow. “Come on,” she murmurs, tilting her head toward the door. “Let’s get some air.”

You nod, relieved, and follow her outside.

The night air is cool, crisp against your overheated skin. The backyard is quiet, the noise of the party muffled behind the closed door. Alexia leads you to the steps of the patio, sinking down onto them, and you follow suit.

For a while, neither of you speak. You just sit there, breathing in the fresh air, letting the tension in your shoulders loosen bit by bit.

Alexia stretches out her legs, hands resting loosely on her knees. Then, after a moment, she glances at you. “Too much?”

You exhale, nodding. “Yeah. I just needed a second.”

She hums in understanding, gaze drifting up to the sky. “I get it. Big days like this… they don’t always hit right away. Sometimes it sneaks up on you later.”

You swallow, staring at your hands. “It feels real now,” you admit quietly.

Alexia turns her head slightly, studying you. “Does that scare you?”

You shake your head, but then pause, reconsidering. “Maybe a little. Not because I don’t want it. But because… I’m not used to things like this being permanent.”

Alexia’s chest tightens. She wants to tell you that this is different. That she’s not going anywhere. That this is forever. But she knows words alone won’t make you believe it. You’ve spent too much of your life with people making promises they couldn’t keep.

So instead, she shifts closer, draping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into her side.

You lean into her instinctively, letting yourself rest against her, feeling the steady rise and fall of her breath. It’s grounding.

After a while, you break the silence. Your voice is quiet, but sure. “I called you mamá in my head today.”

Alexia goes very, very still.

You hesitate, then let out a soft, nervous laugh. “I’ve never called anyone else that before. Not really. I was scared to say it out loud. But… it felt right.”

Alexia exhales shakily, and when you glance up at her, there’s something raw in her eyes, something vulnerable, something that looks suspiciously like unshed tears.

She cups the side of your face, her thumb brushing lightly against your cheek, like she’s memorizing the moment. Then, her voice barely above a whisper, she asks, “Do you want to say it now?”

You hesitate. Just for a second. And then, you take a breath and let it slip past your lips, quiet but steady.

“Mamá.”

Alexia lets out a choked breath. Then she’s pulling you into her arms, holding you tight, her hand cradling the back of your head as she presses a kiss to your temple. “Mi niña,” she whispers, voice thick with emotion. “Mi amor. Mi hija.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, pressing yourself closer into her warmth, into the safety of her embrace.

For the first time in your life, the word mamá feels like safe.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Travel Day IV

Keira Walsh x Kid!Reader

Summary: You get a bit confused with your family

"Do you only have a mummy?" One of the girls in your new class asks.

You frown as you think.

This new school is different. You wanted to go to the same school as Liefje but there weren't any spots available so you're at this one. It's closer to home as well which is easier for your mums.

"I have Mummy," You tell the girl as you reach for the blue crayon," And a Mum..." You think for a moment. "And kind of a Daddy."

The girl nods a few times as she sprays glitter glue all over her picture of a unicorn. "I have a mummy, a step-mummy and a daddy too."

"I don't have a step-mummy," You say decisively," Just Mummy, Mum and kind of Daddy."

Clearly the girl doesn't understand and you don't really feel like explaining it so you don't.

You just go about your day.

You even forget about the conversation entirely as Keira picks you up from school and takes you back to her house.

Dinner with Keira is easy like always just like bath time and bedtime where she reads you your special story about a little girl footballer being better than all of the boys on her team before tucking you.

She dresses you like usual the next day in your uniform and snaps an obligatory picture to send to Lucy once she's dropped you off.

You're both early like you normally are and mill around while you wait for the gates to open.

"Oh, Keira," Another one of the mummies says as she sidles up close and strikes up a conversation.

If Lucy were here, she'd let you run off with some of the other kids and play by the bike shed but Keira's always been a bit more cautious about you.

She likes you to stick to her side so you don't get up to mischief so that's where you stay, swinging your joint hands around as you kick a little rock.

"You put in so much effort getting her to places on time," The other mum continues though you've mostly tuned her out in favour of watching some of the older kids drive their new bikes straight into the shed. "It's such a shame that you don't get any help."

Keira frowns, holding your hand a little tighter. "What do you mean? I have help. Lucy-"

"I meant from her father," The woman cuts her off quickly," It's such a shame that he's never around."

Keira tugs on your hand a little bit until you're pressed up against her leg and she lets go of your hand to lightly run her fingers through your hair.

"She doesn't have a father," Keira says stiffly, drawing you as close as she possible can," It's just me and Lucy."

"Oh." The woman's mouth shuts with an audible click. "But I thought...Mia said that y/n talked about her daddy."

"She doesn't have a daddy," Keira says and you frown at that.

Ordinarily, you would argue about it but the way Keira's holding you makes you stay silent.

This is clearly an adult conversation.

It's short and snappy and Keira guides you away before kneeling down in front of you.

Her voice is soft as she speaks. "What's this about a daddy, huh? You know you don't have a daddy."

"I do," You insist," I do!"

"Peanut, baby, you don't. You have me and Mum. Remember? No daddy."

"Mum is my Daddy!"

"What?"

"We were learning about families," You say as Keira draws you close so you can rest your head against her," And the teacher said about how mummies are the ones that carry the babies. You carried me. I know because there's pictures. And daddies are the ones that look after the mummies what that happens. So Mum must be my Daddy because she looked after you."

"Y/n..."

"And Mum likes being Daddy! She says so!"

Keira closes her eyes briefly, taking a deep breath as she tries to keep a lid on her thoughts. "Families don't always need a daddy," She says softly," A family can be two mummies and a little girl."

"Are you sure? My teacher didn't say that."

"Well that's what our family is like and that's what Liefje's family's like. I don't think having two mummies makes it any less a family, alright? You don't need to have a daddy for our family to be right."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

"Okay, Mummy."

The gates open to let the kids into the playground but Keira keeps you close to her side for a few minutes longer, sucking up the affection and your hug until she finally sets you off.

Your words about Lucy being your daddy play on her mind as she drives to training. It's the thing that's in the forefront of her thoughts the moment she sees Lucy's face.

"Has our daughter told you that she thinks you're her daddy?"

It's not the best thing she's ever led with but Keira can't help herself.

"What?"

"Our daughter. She's under the impression that you are her father."

For a moment, Lucy looks floored - a shocked look on her face and eyes wide. But then, as Keira should have expected, Lucy grins.

"She thinks I'm her daddy?"

"Don't start."

Lucy's grin only widens. "A daddy? This is great!"

"I'm already regretting telling you."

"Do you think the dad will let me into their groupchat now?"

[inkandpaintsnowleopard]

Lol imma answer ALL of these like prev

Prepare for how depressing my mind is without tone indication

Yes. Very. Too good lowkey. If I leave their care I’ll instantly die

I never say that to anyone except my parents sooooo probably one of them I don’t remember who though

One time I broke a clay figure that I loved out of anger because I thought it’d be cinematic to carry that guilt but like. Man I really loved that thing. Among other petty things lol

Hell yeah I’m on Tumblr

Me and my Cyn plush are doing great thanks

Poetically

Toast

Pffft no

No, I rip them apart

………never? Idk I playfought some kids recently

As if I know, maybe?

Thankfully not yet

No

Everyone all the time. Babysitters I’ve had. Pets. Etc etc

DOG

✨sick or something✨

No??? Is that real?

Relatively. Like I love them but I ain’t holding one

Yes.

My dreams (never)

Birfday

YES, probably two, because that’s the optimal number

No, I fear stabbing

English, art related stuff

Oh I didn’t see this one before answering 14. Same answer

Toast (procrastinating on making some rn)

Hopefully not?

No

No. Well- A as in a random one? Probably still no but actually idk

MY GODDAMN THROAT

That’s what they all SAY… still prepared to survive if they turn on me though lol

gween /ref

oh. Does 31 answer that

@catnum6 actually. There were two copies of you and I was like “who’s this other person???”

I don’t remember

Lowkey yeah

Forgive I think, only cause for some reason I can’t hate anyone

It’s part of my Arc

That ≥ current age Who knows

I don’t think?? rest in piece 40-49 lol

51. Toast 52. Life is ultimately meaningless 53. Listened to an EPIC SONG 54. Unless you have a REALLY understanding partner; generally no but I’d say it’s probably a case by case basis 55. I hope not 56. 0 57. Eh, love is an illusion but it’s a fun one 58. RAIN AND SNOW 59. YES 60. If I meet the right chemical illusion 61. I mean no one has but I’d likely prefer something else 62. People taking an interest, people living their lives 63. Probably not, I actually quite like my name 64. Huh?? 65. Depends on which friend it is; some I’d just be like “huh ok thanks” and some I’d actually be interested in seeing where this goes 66. No 67. I mean without doxxing anybody, This One Guy I Know 68. Probably my dad, we do that a lot 69. Fictionally yes, in real life no 70. No one real

OKAY CE LA VIE, GO BE KIDS, GO HAVE FUN /ref

70 horrible questions ... Fuck it

01: Do you have a good relationship with your parents? 02: Who did you last say “I love you” to? 03: Do you regret anything? 04: Are you insecure? 05: What is your relationship status? 06: How do you want to die? 07: What did you last eat? 08: Played any sports? 09: Do you bite your nails? 10: When was your last physical fight? 11: Do you like someone? 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours? 13: Do you hate anyone at the moment? 14: Do you miss someone? 15: Have any pets? 16: How exactly are you feeling at the moment? 17: Ever made out in the bathroom? 18: Are you scared of spiders? 19: Would you go back in time if you were given the chance? 20: Where was the last place you snogged someone? 21: What are your plans for this weekend? 22: Do you want to have kids? How many? 23: Do you have piercings? How many? 24: What is/are/were your best subject(s)? 25: Do you miss anyone from your past? 26: What are you craving right now? 27: Have you ever broken someone’s heart? 28: Have you ever been cheated on? 29: Have you made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry? 30: What’s irritating you right now? 31: Does somebody love you? 32: What is your favourite color? 33: Do you have trust issues? 34: Who/what was your last dream about? 35: Who was the last person you cried in front of? 36: Do you give out second chances too easily? 37: Is it easier to forgive or forget? 38: Is this year the best year of your life? 39: How old were you when you had your first kiss? 40: Have you ever walked outside completely naked? 51: Favourite food? 52: Do you believe everything happens for a reason? 53: What is the last thing you did before you went to bed last night? 54: Is cheating ever okay? 55: Are you mean? 56: How many people have you fist fought? 57: Do you believe in true love? 58: Favourite weather? 59: Do you like the snow? 60: Do you wanna get married? 61: Is it cute when a boy/girl calls you baby? 62: What makes you happy? 63: Would you change your name? 64: Would it be hard to kiss the last person you kissed? 65: Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do? 66: Do you have a friend of the opposite sex who you can act your complete self around? 67: Who was the last person of the opposite sex you talked to? 68: Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with? 69: Do you believe in soulmates? 70: Is there anyone you would die for?

[cryptotheism]

Not sure if this is a good question but, in your opinion, when people who have had mystical experiences talk about the Absolute or the world-soul, are they talking about the same thing? Like, are mystical experiences an experience of one specific thing or are they unique?

You're touching on one of the major issues with the term "mysticism" here. How do we know that any two given mystics are talking about the same thing?

Academically speaking, mysticism means one of two things. One: People who had personal contact with wholly transcendent Other. And Two: People writing about those first people. This arises from a common pattern you see in history.

A mystic comes out of a cave and says "I just spoke to god in a way that overwhelmed me beyond what language can capture, join my cave sect." And then his followers dedicate their lives to spending their time in caves trying to talk to God and writing about the experience, even if they never figured out how to do it themselves. Historians still call those followers "mystics" or their theology "mystical" even if they never had the same experience as the original cave guy.

Then, one of the cave followers meets a monk from a foreign land. They get to discussing theology. These foreign monks are the followers of a man who lived on a mountain and spoke to god in a way that overwhelmed what language can capture, and the cave mystic says by cavegod I think your mountain mystic and my cave mystic might have spoken to the same god! Or maybe two aspects of the same god! To which the mountain mystic says "well our mountain god had seven heads and a a flaming scimitar but I see the similarities" to which the cave mystic replies "obviously gods are not limited to a single shape."

Obviously there is no empirical way to prove that cave monk and mountain monk were talking about the same god. But that kinda doesn't matter. If you're discussing an ultimate transcendent thing beyond language itself, the language used to describe it kinda doesn't matter past a certain point.

There is a concept in Western Esotericism that "the paths are many but the light is one." But that statement is aspirational. We are sure as hell hoping the light is one. If there were multiple lights it would be a lot more work.

[writingbluerose]

one more draconic feature | malleus draconia x reader

summary : you've invited Malleus to hang around by your dorm to enjoy each other's companies. Who would've known it ended with you exploring something else instead

warnings : SUGGESTIVE!! like some kissing shit but it's on another level lol ( as well as I can write it lol, I... can't write these stuff too well, but practice makes perfect ^^ )

a / n : this one is based on another comic I saw and also it could be read as another version to this drabble I made some time ago! Enjoy :3

The sun was already up and proud in the sky, giving the birds a chance to sing merrily from their place on top of the branches outside. It was around the end of February, the events at VDC were still a bit fresh but you had resumed your everyday life as always.

Today though, it was a particularly nice and peaceful day. In the now quiet Ramshackle dorm lounge ( after Grim has decided to go into your room to take a "very well deserved nap" ) a figure was sitting relaxed, in their element, on one of the old couches. And that figure was none other than Malleus Draconia. He had been invited by you to spend time together as the VDC had taken most of your time, becoming busier and busier by the day. And come on now, who was he to deny such a request from his beloved? Besides, he's told you many times, the books you've found sitting all dusty and forgotten in this dorm were some of the best pieces of literature he's ever read in his stay at this school, so for him it was a double win.

After some time of waiting, Malleus' ears picked up the faintest sound of footsteps coming in his direction, and then- “Hey there Hornton!” At the sound of your voice, Malleus chuckled and closed his book with a thud “Even now still calling me by the same endearing nickname. You're one of a kind my dear” You gave him a huffed laugh before coming to rest next to him “I didn't interrupt your reading again did I?” Your eyes met his in a quick exchange before he slowly shook his head in reassurance, “No of course not, don't worry about it. I must admit that even I sometimes am not aware of my surroundings, especially when I'm doing something I really am engrossed in” His hand rested on your head before giving you a pat and returning to his book once again. Both of you sat there in silence and after what seemed like an eternity Malleus had noticed you started fidgeting with your fingers, your leg slowly bouncing. A habit of yours he had picked up in the early days you've met, indicating that you were either nervous about something or itching to do something you were not supposed to. The fae's eyes followed your movements a little more before asking : “What is it you're itching to do hm? Are you looking to touch my horns again?” If you could look past the book, you'd be able to see his big smirk hidden behind the hard cover. “No! No! It's not that it's just...mmh — your eyes trailed to the floor, your leg not stopping its bouncing — I was just thinking about your horns. You told me long ago that your horns are a big part of who you are, it kinda represents your family right?” “Indeed so. Our horns are also a very sensible spot, it is the source of our magic, a vital point. Should they break... — his eyes narrowed — well you wouldn't want to know what would happen would you now?” You shook your head at his words before staring at him for a little while “You have other features right? As in, other features akin to a dragon's... I mean you have the eyes, the tail, I wonder if your tongue also looks like one...— ah but nevermind me!” Your mumbling abruptly came to an end after taking a look at Malleus and his shocked expression. What went through that little adorable head of yours hm? Malleus thought. “Well anyway! You know that does remind me of that one story I listened to one of Professor's Trein class...” Quickly loosing yourself in your explanations you failed to notice how Malleus was still looking at you with now a more mischievous expression, his smirk growing into a grin behind his book.

Closing it, not too hard so you wouldn't get startled, his arm slowly started to move towards your chin to grab it, which you failed to notice, still speaking, face red as beet. “Are you truly that curious?” His fingers grabbed your chin ( a bit too hard you would've liked to say ) and forcefully turned your face to his for you to be met with a sight that many people would consider the moment they're about to go to the after life ;

You heard a low growl and an almost mute hissss... as Malleus' mouth opened, revealing his white, long and sharp fangs as his tongue slithered out, long, forked at the tip and flickering through the air, his drool sticking to it and coming down his chin, eyes gleaming down at you like a snake who just caught a delicious prey. You gulped down before leaving a tiny shriek, your form trembling in his hold.

He closed his mouth, tongue licking his lips as his hand came to clean off the drool on his chin. The prince smiled down at you, “Well, did I satisfy your curiosity now, my love?” The tone in his voice left you knowing that he wanted to do much more, but after all, a predator usually waits for its prey's most vulnerable moment. “I-I uhh...uhmmm” He let out a loud snort “So? Is this enough to intimidate you? I'd be hard to believe after all these overblots you've faced” That damn teasing bastard. You signed, stopped, and inhaled again before saying : “Y-you looked... pretty... neat” Voice cracking, not being able to get his expression out of your mind, refusing to look your boyfriend in the eye.

One, two minutes passed before Malleus let out a thunderous laugh, amused and enjoying your reactions to the fullest. “My and here I thought I had frightened you! I must admit, teasing you has become one of my favorite activities to do!” You let out a loud 'HAH!' as if offended, though you both knew there was no venom behind the gesture“You didn't think I was done, do you?” “Wh-h-hey! Malleus!!” The fae prince's hands came to grab your waist pulling you into his lap, his eyes and movements giving an open space to a, new, primal feeling. His fingers found your shirt, unbuttoning it so he'd be given a clear view to your shoulders ; A moment passed before you felt his tongue slowly licking from the shoulder and stopping right under your chin. And he bit down, hard, making you let out a high pitched moan in pleasure. His mouth didn't leave your shoulder yet, and when he felt the first drop of blood coming out, his pupils dilated as he started sucking and licking until he left a deep mark “I haven't even done half the things I wish to do” So he said

His lips quickly found yours, kissing rough and passionate, forked tongue licking your lips asking for entrance. You hadn't dared to tease him or refuse his request, you know better than to do so at this moment. So when you parted his lips welcoming him in your warmth, Malleus let out a groan making you moan into the kiss in return. Grabbing him by his shoulders to steady yourself, his forked tongue hadn't missed a spot. It was so long and fuck did it feel so good it hasn't even been a full minute until you felt drool dropping down at the corners of your mouth.

Without realizing it, your hands went upper and upper until they found the base of his horns. You grabbed at it so hard that Malleus down right growled. So deep it could've come down as a threat for others, but when his hands grabbed your wrists keeping them in place for a split second, before going down to grip your waist, you understood his message : 'Don't you dare take your hands off' so you didn't. In fact, you gripped harder, fingers rising once again on the form of his horns, that's when Malleus parted his lips and moaned, husky and low.

His fingers went lower and lower on your tights, he didn't continue to kiss you right away, instead he came closer, panting in each other's mouths, needy and desperate for more. “Mal... we can't, we can't do this...” Your hands came down to hold his face and the fae closed his eyes at the contact, “Beloved, you cannot lie and tell me you don't wish for this as much as I do. Or do you truly not?” Avoiding his gaze, you inhaled a sharp breath. Of course you wanted to. “I- I do Malleus, fuck, of course I do” “Then please allow me” He lifted you up and positioned you on your back on the couch undoing the buttons of your shirt just a bit more, so he could get a peak at your chest.

He kissed you on your lips, then traveled down to your neck, kissing slowly and softly down to your chest, fingers gripping and pressing at your skin, leaving more tiny love bites in his wake, his ears picking up the faintest of whimpers and tiny moans. Smirking, he continued to press kisses down to your chest, moaning at the same time with you when your hands came to rest on his horns again. His eyes found yours, pupils dilated and face flushed, and for the first time you had spotted a new glint to them. One that only presented a raw feeling of lust and need. When he spoke, his voice sounded more exciting then he intended to let on : “I hope you're ready my love, for I won't hold back in the slightest”

Oh goodness, you were in it for now that's for sure

© writingbluerose 2025

[bnprime]

that’s not what “critical thinking means.”

because “critical thinking” doesn’t mean anything specific apart from “be smart-guy.”

i was so confused, as a teen when the english teachers started to harp on critical thinking.. because it wasn’t something which was ever defined.

only much later, when i had learned symbolic logic, did i discover that they were only kind of talking about logic. and once my brain had learned to think better, i realized that “critical thinking” means “discuss the structure of this book using the concepts we have discussed in class” and “don’t fall for the lies of conmen, it’s your own fault for getting fooled” and “god doesn’t exist” and “thinking about things in a thorough way from different perspectives” and “finding every flaw in a thing and fixating in it;” depending on who you’re talking to. which is the problem when you teach people to think by aiming at a buzzword based on vibes.

the overall commonality here are modes of thinking which look for consistency and inconsistency with other things the thinker knows.

do you know the theoretical elements to a story structure? does this story follow the theory?

do you know any millionaires who got rich by giving money to a bitcoin trader? if buying dogecoin made everyone rich, how do you think this would look in society? is that what we see?

are you familiar with the fundamental laws of physics? do you know the geological history of the earth?is this consistent with the story you were told about god?

are you familiar with the world the author is trying to build? what would these events look like from a different perspective? how would the characters interact in a different setting? are they still the same characters as before? what if sonic was there?

yeah you’re thinking carefully and logically, but there’s an additional element to it: knowledge. we judge realness and falseness not on logic alone, but also testing consistency in terms of other things we know. when we think we build webs.

so one of the groups who use “critical thinking” as a stick ( to blame fooled people for their folly) are the skeptics. “just think critically about whether you should give money to this person who claims they are a time traveller! If you had just thought critically, you wouldn’t have lost your life savings.” yeah, well. does the person you are talking to know about scam artists? do they know about time travel? what areas of knowledge should they be measuring against to determine whether the person is a fraud? does the person you are talking to have these areas of knowledge?

bah! save me from these critical thinking purists.

Acknowledging that “critical thinking” means “thinking about things in a thorough way from different perspectives” and not “finding every flaw in a thing and fixating on it until all the joy is gone” is so liberating.

It’s supposed to be about intellectual curiosity, not about finding ways to devalue things that aren’t perfect or that we personally dislike.

[l1tw1ck]

Till Debt Do You Part

Bottom!FTM Ajax x Top!FTM!Harbinger Reader

+ FTM voyeur Pantalone

🌊 Word Count: 1,709 🌊

Ajax pays off his debt to Pantalone by giving you his body

AFAB Language Used | Reader (He/Him) has bottom + top surgery

CW: Non-Con/Coercion, Size Difference, Voyeurism, Virginity Loss, Oral Sex, Cum Swallowing, Masochism, Asphyxiation, Belly Bulge, Creampie

Pantalone purposefully omitted the fact that Ajax will have to pay Pantalone in return for the money he borrows from him. He's so naïve that he didn't even think to ask. Now, Ajax has finally racked up enough debt to allow Pantalone's repayment plan to go into effect.

The poor harbinger steps into Pantalone's room, completely unaware of what's about to happen.

"Tartaglia, you haven't been paying me back lately." Pantalone says, leaning against his desk. "Do you know how much you owe?"

"Pay you back? You- you didn't say I had to.."

"Is it not a given that you must return what you borrow from someone?" Pantalone tilts his head.

"I'm sorry...I didn't know."

Pantalone chuckles and brushes the hair out of Ajax’s face. "It's okay, you can pay it back with your body."

"My body? Like fighting?" Ajax perks up, happy to hear that he might be fighting even more.

"No, I mean intercourse." Pantalone smirks.

Ajax frowns. "But I've never...Is this my only option?"

Pantalone wants nothing more than to see Ajax become ruined.

"Yes."

"..Fine." He sighs. "Are you going to have me do it with the soldiers..?"

"Of course not, you're too precious. And what would I gain from that? My trusty colleague will be the one to have you." Pantalone smiles. "I owe [Name] a great debt, funnily enough.” He originally wanted to use Ajax himself but once you came back to Snezhnaya and met him, you got Pantalone to pay off the debt he owes you by giving you Ajax’s body.

Tartaglia should feel relieved but he doesn't. You're scary, and by his standards that really means something, and around the same size as Pierro and Capitano. For you to be his first time…

"[Name] bought you something special." Pantalone says, turning around to open his desk drawer. He takes out a human sized collar. "Isn't it cute? It suits you." He walks behind Ajax and puts the collar on for him. It feels strangely intimate.

"I…I guess..” He touches the name tag. It’s fitting, everyone calls him the loyal but rabid dog of Snezhnaya.

Pantalone places his hands on Ajax’s shoulders and leans into his ear. “He’s waiting for you in his room. Make sure to be a good boy.”

Pantalone enters the room with Ajax in front of him him. He looks like a cold puppy. You chuckle. “I was right. The collar does look good on you.” You walk towards him. “We haven't had many opportunities to interact, have we?” You rub his cheek with your thumb.

“N- no, sir..”

“He's a virgin, you know.” Pantalone smiles.

“Is that so?” You turn around and sit down on your bed. “You wouldn't mind helping him learn the ropes, would you?” You begin freeing your cock.

“It’d be my pleasure.” Pantalone makes Ajax walk towards you. “C’mon, kneel.” He kneels in between your legs, Pantalone kneeling next to him. He guides Ajax’s hand to your length. He’s in shock by your size. He glances at your chest as you remove your shirt, then at your arm. Custom made. It definitely suits your build, despite its outrageous size.

“Now, lick it.”

Ajax frowns and nervously darts his tongue out, licking your length. It doesn't feel or taste as bad as he thought. He glances up at you for a moment before looking back at your cock.

"Try to put it in your mouth." Pantalone gently touches Ajax’s body.

Tartaglia gulps and opens his mouth, trying to take it all in at once. It reminds you and Pantalone of a certain pink video game character. He gags when your dick hits the back of his throat.

"Just start with the tip, puppy." You chuckle softly. He gets more red and does as he says, wrapping his lips around the head of your cock.

"Pretend it's a...popsicle." Pantalone brushes Ajax’s hair from his face. He starts bobbing his head up and down while looking at Pantalone for approval.

"This is how you eat popsicles?" You groan in pleasure, gently wrapping your hand around the back of Ajax’s head. "How cute." You run your hands through his ginger hair, admiring his charm.

“Isn’t he?” Pantalone carefully snips off Ajax’s shirt. “Don't worry, you won't have to pay me back for your clothes.” He says, knowing exactly what the ginger is thinking. He starts to grope the rookie’s breasts with his elegant fingers. “You're surprisingly soft.” He hums.

He’s extremely embarrassed but he keeps going. Once he starts something, he's determined to see it through. Even if it's something like this.

“You're making me impatient with those words, Pantalone.”

Pantalone giggles softly as he unbuttons the ginger’s pants, then reaches over to slide his hand inside. “Every meal deserves to be savored.” Ajax’s t-dick gets a cold hug from Pantalone’s slender fingers.

Ajax moans and stops.

Pantalone uses his other hand to spank Ajax. “Nobody told you to stop, sweetheart.”

Ajax does his best to keep going despite how sensitive his body is. “Mmh!” His eyelashes flutter beautifully.

“There you go.” Pantalone purrs, sliding his digits into the ginger’s entrance. “Good boy, all nice and wet for your master.”

Ajax’s ears redden. He looks up at you and the redness travels to his cheeks, a shudder down his spine from how turned on you look. You look, and feel, so aroused and the fact that it's his fault is causing so much internal conflict. It's not bad if he likes this, right? You want him to feel good too, don't you? He adjusts his pace, filled with motivation to please you.

Your groans of pleasure are starting to become music to his freckled ears. You grab a fistful of his hair and keep him still. Ajax’s confusion disappears once he feels your seed filling his mouth. He closes his eyes and swallows it all up. As your hand drags him back, his tongue gives your tip one final lick, a string of cum dripping onto his chest.

“Is that it?” He asks.

“Of course not. Do you know how much you owe?” Pantalone chuckles and helps Ajax stand up. “You’ll be doing this for a very long time, rookie.”

“That's right.” You wrap your arms around Ajax’s torso and pull him onto your lap. “A couple years at least.” Your mouth latches onto one of his nipples.

Ajax throws his head back and moans. A couple years of this sounds like a good deal. Your hands travel around his body, feeling up every inch of him, before landing on his ass. You gently grope him.

“You like that, sweetheart?” Pantalone asks, groping the ginger’s unattended breast. Ajax nods. “Say it.”

“I like– I like it~” He shivers as your cock comes back to life and happily leaks pre cum onto his stomach. You pull away, now he can really see your cock again. He stares at it with hearts in his eyes.

“See that, rookie? That's how deep he’ll be inside you.” Pantalone makes a line with his finger over the tip of your cock. “He's gonna fill you up, right to the brim.”

Ajax moans. You get up, holding him up as you do, and lay him down on the bed. You remove the rest of his clothing as Pantalone sits next to him on the bed.

The banker gently runs his fingers through Ajax’s hair, comforting him as you take his virginity.

“Mm-” He grips the bedsheets. Pantalone licks his lips, watching a bulge appear in Ajax’s stomach. Ajax slightly arches his back. “Big–”

“It hurts?” Pantalone asks. It's obvious from his tone of voice that it turns him on rather than worries him. “Don't worry, rookie..” He kisses Ajax’s forehead, his hand trailing down to grope his tits.

Ajax moans.

“I think he likes that it hurts, Regrator.” You notice a subtle change in the ginger’s expression.

“Is that true, cutie?” Pantalone coos.

“Mhm~” He mewls at the feeling of his nipple getting pinched.

“How about this?” Pantalone squeezes Ajax’s neck, the tag on his collar resting on top of his fingers. His eyes roll to the back of his head.

“I think you should suffocate him with something else.” You wink at the regrator.

“Yeah? What do you think, rookie? You want me to sit on your face?”

Ajax shivers and softly nods. Pantalone smiles and starts removing his clothes. Ajax stares at his superior with curiosity. He's never really thought about it, but looking at him now, Pantalone is definitely his type. Ajax scans his body as the older man adjusts his position, from his hardened pink nipples to the scars beneath his chest and to the trimmed black hair hiding his undoubtedly beautiful pussy. Ajax’s gaze remains fixed on him as he opens his mouth, more than happy to be suffocated by it.

Once you stop moving, Ajax can tell you're completely inside. It still hurts but he doesn't want to wait until it stops. You're on the same page as him and start fucking him.

Pantalone slowly grinds on Ajax’s face, twitching with pleasure from the vibrations of Ajax’s moans. The bed creaks as your thrusts become rougher. You praise him as your hand trails over to his t-dick, making sure he knows how much you appreciate his soft, wet pussy. His body shakes violently as he squirts.

Pantalone feels his own orgasm approaching as he watches Ajax’s eyes roll to the back of his head. He doesn't stop licking the older man’s cunt even as he starts to become overwhelmed and lightheaded. He didn't think sex could feel this good.

“Yes~ like that, Ajax~” Pantalone lets out an airy moan. He slides his fingers through his ginger curls. “Good boy…taking us so well..”

“We should've hired you for this instead of combat. You won't mind if I take him on a ‘vacation’ from work, would you, Regrator?”

“As long as you let me join from time to time.” He puts all his weight on Ajax’s face as he squirts, his slick sliding down his face.

“Of course.” Your orgasm quickly follows Pantalone’s, your seed pumping him full. You watch Pantalone get up and look to see if Ajax is still conscious.

“So good..” He mumbles before passing out with a smile on his face.

[muwapsturniolo]

Cupids choke hold જ⁀➴ᡣ𐭩 C. Sturniolo

"dad, i think i finally found the one."

⟢Fluff really, Chris just being in love with bun

@bernardsbendystraws for credit

The sun was setting over the city of angels, and Chris was entranced by his own angel.

Bunny.

He stared down at his lock screen, smiling softly to himself as the picture brought warmth to his chest. His admiration was interrupted by his phone ringing, a name popping up that he hadn't spoken to in a while. He answers the call and puts it on speaker, instantly feeling comforted by the voice on the other end.

"Hey son, where have you been?"

The question makes him feel guilty. He was always a mama's boy despite his harsh exterior, his mother being his rock and safe place, and she loved it. The mother and son duo knew to a degree it wasn't fair, but they were each other's favorites, and everyone else knew it too.

"Hey Ma," he says softly, inhaling a bit of the joint before tapping the excess ashes off. "I know it's been a minute since we last spoke...I have so much to tell you."

He begins to feel nervous like he is about to be judged. He knew it was an irrational fear, his mother would never judge him, even when he did something wrong.

"It's going to sound like a bad joke, but Ma...I fell in love, I found the real thing. I got a girlfriend and she's amazing."

A bit of shuffling is heard on the other end before she responds to him, "A girlfriend? Is the same one that- No." Chris instantly cuts her off, not even wanting to bring up the last girl. She was never his girlfriend. He would never say this to his mother, but she was nothing more than a quick fuck to him.

"No no, this...This is someone new and she's the best thing to happen to me. I probably sound like an old person, but Cupids got me in a chokehold. You know me, I've always been scared to let people in, especially girls, but she made it so easy that I threw the towel down. My white flag is waving, and I'm okay with that."

He couldn't help himself, instantly going on a long ramble about the girl he found himself to love so much.

"-I mean, she cooks me pancakes in the morning, the blueberry ones that you make me when I'm back home. God, and I'm starting to think you two use the same ingredients."

"And what are those ingredients?"

He smiles dopily to himself, looking down at his beat-up Nike slides,

"Love."

Mary-Lou finds herself smiling. She had been worried when her boys finally left the nest they call a home that they wouldn't be ok, but it seemed as if they were doing just fine, finding the right people to have in their lives and keeping their heads straight.

"Tell me more." She urges gently, not wanting to scare the boy into retreating his feelings, but also wanting to know more about the special girl who managed to capture her youngest attention and heart.

"When my stomach hurts, she always gets me Alka seltzers. When I'm sick she goes above and beyond to make sure I'm ok. If that ain't love then don't know what love is, it's like we're married."

"Well, it is through sickness and health, they say during the vows."

He chuckles to himself and continues, "We have this secret handshake, we came up with it on our fourth date when I learned she didn't know how to dapp people up. We're always doing it before she goes to practice and it just brings me so much comfort. Oh, and she even gets along with Matt and Nick! You know how close we are, and I don't think I could date someone who doesn't respect them. She even supports the YouTube shi- I mean stuff we do! I know I'm not that much involved, but she's pushed me to participate more, to be something more."

"...You sound in love..." Mary-Lou states softly, trying to hold in her excitement.

Chris chuckles to himself, nodding along despite Mary Lou not being able to see him.

"I am...I really am. If I had to pick her or the sun, Ma, I'm telling you I'd be a nocturnal son of a gun."

She laughs at his statement, soon urging him to send her a picture of the girl.

"Oh Chris, she's so pretty! And the way you look at her, it's the same way your dad looks at me. You have to bring her to Boston soon!"

So he did.

His chest was ready to burst with excitement and joy seeing the girl he loves so much getting along with his parents and older brother. She fit right in, doing crossword puzzles with his mom, playing Just Dance with Justin, and even going fishing with his dad.

It was late into the night, Chris sitting outside on the back porch, smoking with a glass of water in his hand. Bunny had fallen asleep on the couch with Trevor, both she and the dog snuggled up into a ball and sleeping peacefully. He looks up hearing the door open, smiling gently when he sees his dad.

Jimmy takes a seat in the empty chair next to Chris, settling down and letting out a deep breath. They sit in silence for a minute before Jimmy speaks.

"Tell me about her."

Chris immediately dives in, never missing an opportunity to talk about his girl.

"Dad, I think I finally found the one, the one that makes me a better person and will make you proud of me. She's like Mom, she's the best... I know there have been other girls; you've heard about them, but she's different, she's on a whole different plane. Just the way she says my name, it makes me want to give her the world, hell, even the universe."

Jimmy listens intently, watching how he talks with such passion about the girl sleeping on the couch.

"I love it when she calls me. I feel like an elementary school boy getting excited about his crush talking to him on the playground. She even has her own ringtone so I know its her calling! We used to sit on the phone for hours, doing nothing but breathing most of the time."

"She's a good girl, a real catch. I can see the love you two have for each other, I saw it when we picked you up from the airport. You two are in love and I hope it lasts."

Chris takes a sip of his water, staring out into the backyard with a smile and eyes full of love.

"I know it will, I'm not letting her get away."

He creeps back into the house softly, approaching the living room and chuckling to himself when he sees both Bun and Trev drooling in their sleep.

He goes to pick her up but stops when Justin enters the living room.

"You went soft on me," Justin voices playfully, gently pushing Chris's shoulder. Chris rubs the back of his neck, sitting down on the arm of the couch and placing a hand on the sleeping girl's shoulder.

"She's the reason, she makes it so easy to be...I don't even know. She could make the most annoying, oldest, senile man bite his tongue and talk calmly. Her eyes are so soft and comforting, it's like the sunrise on a summer day, I could stare into them for hours."

Justin watches with a knowing smile on his face. He can tell from how animated Chris gets when talking about her, that he will continue to do so forever. He's in love, and Justin knows the two will end up happily married, and he can't wait.

" She's a complete ten, the most gorgeous and graceful girl I've ever seen. She has me hooked, and I'm not complaining. She has the best laugh ever, and she laughs at all my jokes, even my dumb ones that usually piss Nick and Matt off. Like I told Dad, before we moved in with each other, we'd sit on the phone for hours not saying a word sometimes. We just wanted to be around each other and it was comforting. "

He looks down at the girl once more, toying with her curly strands gently in an attempt to not disturb her slumber.

"It may be too soon, but when I think about my future, when I think about what I want it to look like, it all surrounds her. I want to be the best version of me for her, and I want her to be happy...Call it dumb, call it luck, call it love, or whatever, but everywhere I go and do, I keep a picture of her in my wallet. I want to remember what I'm working for."

Justin walks over and plants his hand on Chris's shoulder, "I can't wait to call her my sister-in-law."

With that, Justin walks out of the living room, leaving the couple and Trevor alone. Chris is gentle when he lifts the girl off the couch, one of his hands caressing her back while the other holds her bottom. He walks up the stairs and into his room, laying her down gently on the bed.

He strips out of his hoodie, kicking off his slides, and crawling into bed, pulling her close and kissing the top of her head.

Despite her being asleep, he proceeds to whisper softly.

"I love you so much, I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you."

She opens her eyes softly, smiling at him in a sleepy haze.

"I love you more."

[meanbossart]

Thank you all so much for your kind words after yesterday's ask!!! I was shocked at the amount of support I received in my inbox shortly after. I perhaps should have clarified that I used to draw a lot of horror and that's why comments like "good ugly" and "scary" used to be more common-place. Sometimes I still go for that - but nowadays I'm just more into bringing out the beauty in things, even when they happen to be more grotesque.

I responded to all off-anon messages privately. Tumblr doesn't let you do the same with anonymous messages (beats me as to why) and I would rather not post all of them because... Well, it's a lot, and I don't want to give the impression that I'm just throwing a pity-party for myself over here 😅

But I read them all, and I sincerely mean it when I say thank you for taking precious time out of your day just to lift up a stranger!

[marvelhead17]

I'd normally hide in the tags but I mean...

Free time = tumble outta bed and stumble to the kitchen pour myself a cup of ambition and yawn and stretch and try to come to life (not to sound like a shitpost but let's be real only early risers get up super easily, the rest of us are night owls or permanently exhausted pigeons with ruffled feathers).

Preparation = do you need to shower, eat, pack lunch, do you have enough money to do things, oh the laundry is done let's hang it up quick before we go, ah shit the dishes guess I'll let them soak for tonight, etc. (I'm sure all of us can cover a couple hundred more scenarios alone, especially big families, new parents, etc, etc.)

Work = job dependant but if it's a mean to make ends meet it usually sucks your soul out and is mind-numbingly dull and makes you wish you were dead (over something you truly love), it can be repetitive and result in deja vu *don't come at me for spelling*.

Recovery = if work is slow you're thinking about everything that needs to be done and then some and it's overstimulating without even getting resolved because by the time you get home now your brain is fried and it makes your body go into autopilot for basic things, if work was too much then obviously the same thing happens and these days (I'm guilty of too) doomscrolling to receive mild entertainment with minimal effort.

Free time = wind down for bed with a quick wash of the face, brushing teeth and minor things so that we can start again tomorrow.

And to add, something that my lecturer sent out to motivate us:

crazy how 4 hours of work will literally take up my entire 15+ hour day. who allowed this