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limarkova · 1 month ago

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Yandere Batfam x Neglected Reader x Yandere Al Ghuls

Pt. 6

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Author's Note: this chapter gets really dark and reader does describe what happened in the experiments with detail. If you can't read that than here's a little summary. Reader was injected with numerous strange liquids. One labeled LPW caused her meta abilities to awaken. Once they ensured she wouldn't die they took her organs out of her body. She was alive and awake for most of it. That's what made her determined to escape. You can skip from the first Pov change to when it says "Damian was in front of you."

Dick stood outside of her door. His hand hovered over the wood. He wasn't a 100% sure what he was supposed to say. Obviously it would have to be a delicate conversation. This was traumatic for her on some degree but she needed to know they were there for her. She needed to know he was there for her.

Yet all he could remember surrounding her were broken promises. He knew he had a bad habit of ditching people cause someone asked for help. Yet with her it had always been a little worst. He remembered at one time he promised to be at her first science fair and ditched her for a date with Starfire. When he got home she looked upset but told him she knows he was busy being a hero. That some people needed a hero more than she needed a brother.

God she said that to him at five. Did he really deserve to barge in and be her supportive big brother now. No his mistakes stopped today, he would do better for his sister.

Dick knocked on the door. She called out, "Just a minute."

There was shuffling noise beyond the door. She opened it and Dick immediately felt himself stiffen. (Name) was taller than he remembered. That was to be expected, it had been two years. But when had she gotten that mature look about her. Dick put on his best casual smile, "Hey, I wanted to check up on you."

"I'm doing fine." She nodded at him once. There was a brief pause before she continued, "I'm still missing a few essential items but I should be fine until I can a new debit card."

"Yeah, Alfred called the bank about that actually." That caught her attention. She gestured with her head and stepped aside. That's a good sign, she's inviting him into her room. Dick walked into her room and took a seat on an old bean bag. Despite spraying it with enough frebreeze and lysol to kill three generations of germs it still had a slight smell of mothballs. He clear his throat than continued, "They had turned off that card three days. Someone tried withdrawing too much cash at an ATM."

"I told you it was stolen at school. I'm not surprised they did something stupid with it." She shrugged before taking a seat in her desk chair. Half the stickers that decorated it this morning had been peeled off. There was a box now in the middle of the room were it seemed she was packing up old novelty items. Was she cleaning out her room?

Dick gave her a nod, "Yeah. So how was Miss Rose's? Despite the troublesome roommates I mean."

(Name) paused. Tilting her head to the ceiling she thought for a minute before sighing. She bit her lip, looking between her hands and him, "I... I would have preferred to stay at Gotham Prep. Honestly I feel like I fell behind going there. Not to mention half the people there seemed like they wanted to eat me alive."

Dick paused, licking his lip. He knew he couldn't do this by letting her think he didn't know. He had to come clean. "So umm, Alfred called Miss Rose's and they said you never attended."

"What?" Her eyes went wide and her breathing went unsteady. Her eyes began to shift between all the exits in the room. A slight tremble began in her lips.

Dick swallowed but pushed forward, "and the debit card. The statement show it was being used to withdraw cash in Gotham for the past two years when Miss Rose's is in the UK. (Name) I know you didn't attend a boarding school."

"So. You know what happened." Her muscles started locking up. It was like watching a mask fall off her face. The trembling in her lips gave way to a snarl. Her eyebrow scrunched up as she directed a look of utter rage squarely at him.

Dick stood from the bean bag holding his hands out in front of him, "I don't know what happened but I know you weren't at school."

"Liar." She hissed the word like it burned. There was nothing on her face of the understanding five year old. It felt like he looking at Jason when he was consumed by pit rage again.

"I'm not lying. I didn’t know you weren't at school until yesterday when Alfred called them."

"Am I really expected to just believe that?" She shoved herself out of the chair. It toppled to the ground with a loud thud. "That you, of all people, wouldn't notice an entire child just disappearing. Your own sister no less."

"We... I... (Name), I really thought you were at a boarding school." Dick step forward, reaching blindly for them. This was not how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to comfort her, not upset her.

She flinched away from him. A caged animal look cross her face as she scrambled towards her bed. "Prove it. Where's the letters you got from me while I was at 'school', what reasons were you given for me to not show up on breaks. Or did the 'school' just conveniently not have those. What proof were you given that I was at this place that you so throughly believe it for two years?"

Dick frozen because there was none. He had truly just accepted she was at school with no proof. That easily, he accepted it with no questions or second thought.

"(Name), please."

"Well, I'm waiting." Dick flinched at the words. Something like shame must of be on his face because she scoffed at him. (Name) stood up straighter, disgust mixed with the rage, "You can't because there is none. So you knew, you had to have known because there is no way anyone in this fucking manor was stupid enough to the forget about a whole child for two years until she showed up at the door. You knew and did nothing! I needed you and you did nothing!"

She screamed the last sentence, the words bouncing around her room like a ping pong ball. Tears had started streaming down her face. Her breath was ragged that cage look disappearing from her face. Panic mixed with utter despair blanketed her eyes.

Dick's chest tighten. There it was, bare and simple. He had failed so throughly and he couldn't deny it. Dick tried walking towards her again. He was desperate. If he could reach her, hold her he could make things right, "I'm sorry (Name). Please let me make this right, let me help you."

The rage was coming back. She jabbed a finger towards him, but to Dick it might as well of been a bullet fired directly at him. "You don't deserve a chance to make it 'right'. Get out now."

Dick started, "I know I messed up."

"No you failed. You failed and there is no making it right. Just get out, I don't want to look at you, just leave already." More tears streamed down her face. Her hands gripped at her ears, her every breath was labored. She was having a breakdown and he was making it worse. Dick knew he couldn't leave her like this but he also couldn't help her.

There was a tense standoff before Dick released a breath. Leaving that room felt like a mistake but he didn't know what else he could do. He truly had failed. When the door closed he heard her sobbing. He pressed his back to the door listening, knowing he couldn't do anything to help her right now. Pulling out his phone he texted Bruce, "we're all on the shit list."

There was no way, they didn't know. You refused to believe it. If they truly didn't know and had forgotten about you than it was all for nothing. Surviving had all been for nothing. They had to have known there was no other option. At least one of them.

Memories coursed through you as if they were happening all over again. The first time they strapped you to a table and inject something into you. It had caused so much burning in your left arm, you hadn't realized you had started screaming. When you looked over your arm was an angry red with intense swelling. Your world had started to spin as panic state in. First you begged, than you just cry. The man who administered the shot just watched a small monitor that continued to beep.

The injections continued. Vials of weird liquid following close behind. Sometimes you threw up, choking on your own vomit until someone remove the straps and rolled you over. Your mind echoing the chant "they will come, they'll find me." You repeated it at night till sleep claimed you. Whispered it like a prayer when the pain became too much.

Than one day, they injected you with a thick blue green liquid label LPW. Something about the liquid stuck with you as important. It caused a sharp change in your vitals. From what you understood you flatlined shortly after it was injected into you.

You had your dream again. A strange comfort in being some place familiar. Than you were thrust back into life with someone on top of you performing CPR. Things got worse from there.

They run some test before the trials started. You hated the trials as much as wished for them. They also started saying the date when they started the test. It was the only way you knew how long you had been there. Then the pain would begin. Stabbing, whipping, electrocution, drowning, at some point you began to believe that the man administering the test was getting off on your pain. That he was intentionally getting worse and worse to experience more and more of a high. Yet you had your comfort "They'll find you, they'll come."

At some point you stop experiencing pain. Something about pain being an alert to the immune system. It all went over your head and stopped making sense. That's also when they told you about the expanded lifespan. It was a theory but the compound they injected you with was known to bring people back from to life after they died or back from brink of death. If they were right you could potentially live to be hundreds maybe even thousands of years old.

After the two years mark they did their 'final test'. You woke up already strapped to a table. Everything was kind of hazy, yet there were the normal bright lights and beeping monitors to tell you where you were. They said the date and it blurred in your head. Was this another drowning test? Is that why they sounded so far away?

Your body felt warm and light. They were wearing different uniforms. Why was that, what were they doing? A blade was handed to someone. There was a cut down your chest. Clamps held you open so you couldn't heal the wound shut. If there was an object lodged in the wound you couldn't heal. They knew that.

Hands reached into you torso. It felt funny, like they were tickling your insides. There were five people all making your inside feel weird. Scalpels, blood, and other strange liquids flashed in your vision. Than they removed something. It was small and covered in blood. The strange lump looked like a grayish pink pillow. They set it into something just outside your field of vision.

More and more lumps followed. The people were there for a long time or maybe it was a short time. It was still blurry; time could be blurring together. At some point they stopped. There was an argument between the people. They were pointing to you. Two of them walked out. The other three got oddly close to you before the tickling started again. They pulled out three more lumps before letting the flaps of your torso close. One of them holding a strangely shape lump that was leaking blood over the place pulled his mask down. With crooked, yellow stained teeth he smiled.

The wound didn’t heal not at first. Instead, the flaps of skin fell into your chest. The haziness started to slowly leave your body. They had drugged you for that test. You stared and stared at your chest when it finally hit. That weird feeling in your chest they caused was them removing your organ. They literally hollowed you out. You tried to speak, repeat your prayer but without lungs that was no air to create the noise.

Something broke that day. They weren't going to find you; they weren't going to come. You had to leave, clearly something had gone wrong, and they were unable to find you.

It was a strange sensation, having your organs regrow inside your body. Strange to watch too. For some reason you stayed awake during the whole process. Realistically, without oxygen the cells in your brain should have given out. Gone to sleep until your lungs regrew. Yet you never actually passed out when drowned or choked. At some point your brain flipped to no longer need oxygen. You became a zombie, unable to think properly but still seeing, hearing, and importantly remembering.

The morning of the second day you regained feeling in your limbs. Finally able to think you crawled to your spot. Taking your shit pillow with you. They would send someone to check in a few hours. Pulling the pillow apart you revealed the excessive amount of scalpels you had stolen over the past year. No one was coming it was time for you to leave.

One of the guards opened the door. He walked towards you. Then he reached behind you? Wait there was nothing there, you were against a wall. There was a sudden weight and warmth being wrapped around you. It was so unexpected, that you blinked. That must have cleared your vision.

Damian was in front of you. He was crouched down on his knees, wrapping the comforter from your bed tightly around you. Nothing was said as he finished. The two of you just sat there in a blank silence. You broke it first, "Why?"

"You are my sister. As such it is my responsibility to look after you and ensure your wellbeing." He looked at where his hands rested on his knees. There was another beat of silence as his green eyes danced with emotions. "I am sorry about attacking you and how I acted when I first met you."

He seemed genuine in his apology. You looked at the blanket wrapped around you. Maybe you had been too quick to judge Damian. But he acted just like him in those few moments. That man that got off on causing your body to spasm in pain. The one that, now in your clear mind, you knew had removed your heart and smiled when he was done. That man would never apologize though. You looked at Damian, "You don't have to stay."

"I am not leaving your side until I know you are well." Damian gave you a sharp nod. Then seemed to think for a moment, "Though I admit to not be good at comforting people. If you are okay with it, I would like to take you somewhere that might provide better comfort."

"I'm fine." You shook your head and pulled the comforter closer to you. Your room felt safe in a strange way to you. It was small with only one entrance that was easily accessible. Your window had an old Victorian style metal grate over it. Leaving even for Damian to show you something felt more threatening than any comfort could make up for.

Your brother considered you for a minute. The look made you want to crawl under your bed. Finally, he sighed than stood, "I shall return."

Once he was out of your room you climb under your bed. Screw Alfred's request, you needed safety from any prying eyes or cameras. In the dark quiet you allowed tears to fall again. You felt hollowed out again, pressing your hands to your chest. The assurance that something was there pushed the feeling back a little. It wasn’t enough.

Your door opened again. A part of you want to scream at the person to leave. But that required lungs and you weren't 100% certain you weren't hollow. There was a heavy sigh followed by shuffling.

"Can please come out and tell me if this helps?" Damian's voice interrupted your descent again. Sighing you rolled out from under the bed. It didn't matter if you got hurt.

Yet instead of pain you were in a blanket fort. Damian was a little ways away from you holding a black and white cat. He nodded to you and set the cat down. It stretched before walking over to you and curling up on your stomach. You began to pet the cat on your stomach gently, feeling the hollowness disappear.

"You confuse me Damian."

Damian eyebrows scrunched up and he started to pout. "How?"

"First you attack me. Than you try to spend time with me and get shot down just get back up and try to help me." You kept petting the cat. It purred and nuzzled into your hand. You smiled at the feline chasing the hollow feeling away.

Damian considered your words before sighing, "I believe there was a misunderstanding between us. All I was told about you in the manor was that I have sister. So I wrongly assumed they were talking about Cassandra."

"So when you saw me walking around the manor?" The cat yawned and curled on tighter on your stomach.

Damian sighed, "I once again wrongly assumed you were an intruder."

You laughed bitterly, "So they really didn't talk about me? Why am I not surprised."

"Honestly it's pathetic. World's greatest detectives and they don't even properly informed me about my sister cause they all assumed someone else had." Damian crossed his arms. This prompt a two hour long complaining session about the family.

Damian was shocked at the fact of you didn't know about half the family's drama. You were shocked how little they actually knew about you. Their vision of you boiled down to an innocent little kid who like science experiments and space. Meanwhile they're out there literally dying, getting blown up, drugged with God knows what, and so much more. No wonder Bruce need some way to make someone capable of healing any injury or illness. That had to have been his motive.

There was a knock on your door and Duke poked his head in. "Hey guys, it's time for dinner."

"Go away Thom-"

"No Dami, he's chill." You opened the flaps of you fort. Waving to Duke you announced, "We're complaining about the family. Come on."

"Dude wait until you hear about what I just learned." Duke hurried over to the tent. He was a little too big for the tent and ended up laying on his stomach with his legs hanging out. You handed him a pillow that he could lay on. He took a deep breath before spilling the beans, "So apparently everyone but Dick, Cass, Alfred, and Bruce had the wrong location on where your school was."

"Are you kidding me?" You could feel your rage coming back. Calculations began to run rampant in your mind at the realization.

"What were going to do if she was in danger?" Damian gestured to you. Rage blazed in his eyes. Oh, he was on her side that was good.

Duke shrugged gesturing to the space in the center of the tent, "Go to the wrong country I guess?"

"Country?" You gave Duke the most indignified look you ever made in your life. It would be the perfect diversion to throw any of your siblings that did care off the trail. Sending them to the wrong country would give them months to find, secure, and move you to a new location if they got to close. Bruce really was a fucking mastermind though you had to ask. "How did everyone get the wrong country?"

"They found boarding school brochures around the manor and assumed that was the one you were attending. In reality Cass just forgot to put them away." Duke facepalmed. He looked kind of disappointed. "When Jason found out, I thought he was going to get in a fist fight with Bruce. He literally stormed out of the manor and is standing at his apartment right now."

"Okay, Bruce, Alfred, and Dick, I can understand but Cass? How was she involved?" As far as you were aware Cass stalked you for three weeks than ignored for two years.

"Bruce asked her to help choose a school cause he thought she could choose the best one for." That bitch. Just when you were considering let her off the hook. But that also meant they were planning this for years before it actually happened. Was Cass brought into the manor strictly to be a weapon against you? This went deeper than you orginially thought.

There was no more delaying your plans. It was time to start making some bigger moves before they could.

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Taglist:

@stove-top96 @00hellohello00 @mysticalhills @yhin-gg @twismare @charlenexoxo1 @a-lurking-fae @moondust-clouds @darkumbreon92 @jsprien213 @bellethesleepypotato @time-shardz @randomlyappearingartist @kittzu @bat1212 @vanilliona @welpthisisboring

#yandere batfam x neglected reader #villian reader #yandere bruce wayne #yandere cassandra cain #yandere jason todd #yandere ra's al ghul #no beta we die like jason todd #no beta we die like men #yandere barbara gordon #yandere damian wayne #yandere dick grayson #yandere tim drake #yandere duke thomas #yandere talia al ghul #yandere stephanie brown

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catgirltoes · 2 years ago

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[image description: a poster board sign with changeable letters on a brick wall. The text on the sign reads: "The writer (she/her) is a trans woman and Lebanese-Canadian who also identifies as queer. Her work is about". The rest of the text could not fot on the sign. End description]

At Publishing Company, we care about representation. This book is about a gay person (like you!) who falls in love, comes of age, learns to be more compassionate, and has adventures in a setting that--sorry, I was getting off track. Where was I? Oh yeah, the main character has ADHD! The love interest is autistic and maybe has OCD. There are several characters in here who might not be white. Is that exciting to you? A side character is openly nonbinary. The antagonist uses mobility aids. Everyone introduces themselves with pronouns in this groundbreaking queernormative novel written by a Turkish-American trans person who takes Zoloft. Interested? Anyway, the novel itself is about

#what the hell is the name for this kind of sign i am going insane #please i know it by all rights has a name but i have no idea what it is help me #also i feel like i need to spell out specifically that the text doesn't all fit on the sign #because it's very much only obvious if you can actually see it #this should by all rights be a very easy image to describe but it's not #AUGH #edit okay so i tried looking it up and got vague nonsense #poster board sign seems the best?

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mistiell · 1 year ago

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If you’re doing requests and it’s not too much trouble what about Astarion and getting patched up and taken care of by mc

Here you go babes <33 (Also, if he's a little out of character, I apoligize, I really did try my best lol) WC: 1k

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“Ow! Gods, could you at least try to be gentle?” Astarion hisses at the sting of the salve you’ve concocted, startling you into jerking the cloth you’re using away.

You huff and drop your hands into your lap, brows furrowed in very clear annoyance, “I am trying. If you’d stop squirming, it wouldn’t hurt so much.”

“Well, if it didn’t hurt so much, I wouldn’t be squirming, would I?” He quips. You roll your eyes.

Taking his wrist ever so gently, you turn it so you can see the gash on his forearm, fingers deft and kind even despite his whining. He’s being difficult; unreasonable. You’d be justified in being cruel with him.

You’re careful not to press so hard as you swipe the cloth over the jagged edge of his wound, blood seeping into the fabric and staining the off-white linen a dark crimson. Mouth quirked down, your face is drawn tight with a frustration he’s never seen on you before.

He hates it.

The fabric catches with a jolt of pain and he flinches more than he would normally, startling you away again.

You tut at him, stern, “Astarion.”

Sighing, he returns his arm to you wordlessly and glances away with a small, “Sorry.”

“You should have been more careful.” You chastise as you press the cloth against his wound; firm, but not harsh. Never harsh.

He scoffs, rolls his eyes, “So you're saying this is my fault.”

He wasn’t being serious, but it seems you take it as such. Your nose scrunches, and for a split second, you look properly upset with him. He’s expecting you to snap at him, maybe shout and finally leave him to tend to his wounds alone as he usually would.

You don’t. Instead, you take a breath and sigh, looking rather disappointed.

“You know that’s not what I meant. Contrary to what you may believe, I do actually care about you and your wellbeing.” Your voice is void of any sort of humour as you look back at his arm. Swapping the soiled cloth for a smaller, cleaner one, you fold it in half and press it to his arm, not sparing him a glance as you instruct him, “Hold this.”

He does as you’ve asked, and a stifling silence engulfs his tent. As you rifle through some healing supplies, he tries to come up with a way to get you talking again.

“Why-,” His voice doesn’t come out right and he clears his throat to fix it. It comes out wrong anyway, “Why are you helping me? This wouldn’t have been the first time I’ve dressed a wound on my own, you know.”

“That doesn’t mean you should have to.” You reply as you begin securing the cloth to his arm with bandages, “No one deserves to suffer alone.”

The sentiment makes his stomach twist. “No one?” He huffs a wry puff of laughter, “Not even someone like Cazador?”

Your face contorts in abhorrence, “I meant good people don’t deserve to suffer alone. That bastard deserves every bit of suffering he has coming to him.”

He barely even registers the second part of what you’ve said, too busy reeling from the first.

Good people don’t deserve to suffer alone.

Good people.

“You... think I’m good?” He asks far too softly.

Finally looking back up at him, you look utterly confused as you nod, “Of course I do.”

He opens his mouth only to find he’s seemingly lost his voice. His gaze flits over just about every inch of your face, searching for any sign that you’re lying; a glance away, a twitch of your mouth. Anything.

He doesn’t find one. His heart sinks and sings simultaneously and suddenly, he can barely breathe.

“Why?” He murmurs. Part of him thinks he’s not equipped to cope with your answer.

There’s a moment where you just... look at him. He’d say staring, but he doesn’t think that’s quite what this is. What you’re doing would be better described as seeing him; all of him. His heart, his soul. Everything.

“Good people can do bad things and still be good, Astarion. And being good doesn’t always mean being a saint.” Your voice is kind; tender. Maybe a little joking towards the end. He guesses you’ve seen the apprehension on his face when your hands slide down his arm to cradle his own. Dipping to catch his gaze, your own is suddenly serious; unwavering, “What happened to you, the things you did. None of that was your fault. You told me what Cazador did to you when you disobeyed him. I’d be just as terrible to deem you a monster for going along with it knowing what would have happened to you if you didn’t.”

Your words strike him like a hard blow to the chest. Perhaps he’s not all that concerned with being a good person, but he’s never truly wanted to be evil, either.

Eyes stinging, he lets out a shaky breath through his nose as he cups the nape of your neck to guide your forehead to his lips. He lingers there for a moment before he wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tight, mumbling against your hairline, “Thank you.”

Snaking your arms around his waist, you squeeze him just as fiercely, “Of course, my love.”

The laugh that escapes him comes out too watery for his liking, but he finds he doesn’t mind quite as much when its only you around to hear, “‘My love’? Isn’t that my line?”

You snort, and he feels you smile against his collar, “Perhaps.” “You do know that reusing material that isn’t yours is in poor taste, don’t you, darling?”

“Hush.” You pull back smiling, shaking your head as you ask in faux exasperation, “Now, will you please let me finish bandaging this?”

He follows your gaze to his arm and huffs dramatically, “I suppose.” “Oh, you suppose, do you?” You sass as you take hold of his wrist again, careful not to wrap the bandages too tight, “Do you also suppose you’ll sit still for me this time?”

“I do.” He grins.

And he does.

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x mc #hurt/comfort

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purplereina11 · 1 month ago

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New Signing, New Beginning Part 5

Mia Larsen was Barcelonas new summer signing

Alexia Putellas is a club legend who just can't seem to talk to her

Irene slipped into the meeting room Alexia’s forehead resting on the table Mapi giggling, Irene furrowed her brows, “Watch”

Mapi lifted Alexia’s head off the table, “Capullo” she let go and Alexia’s head went back down with a thud, Mapi repeated it again, “Capullo” Alexia said as her head went back down

“She’s like a coo-coo clock” Mapi covered her face, “Capullo” she opened her hands like she did playing peek-a-boo with Mateo

Irene tried to suppress her smile looking at Mapi, “Stop.”

“I’m such an idiot” Alexia grumbled

Irene sat down on the chair Mia was in moments ago, before it all went wrong for Alexia “Ale”

“What?” She grumbled face still smushed into the table

“Look at me” Alexia turned her head to the side, getting a smile from Irene, “What happened?”

“I.. I don’t know what happened, she was telling me something really personal to her then I was hugging her and then I just felt myself going to kiss her until this dickhead burst in”

“Maybe” Mapi put a hand out, “I walked in at the right time” Alexia scrunched her face, “Maybe I save you the embarrassment of her turning you down, so if you look at it that way, I actually helped” Mapi pointed her finger towards Alexia wiggling it ever so slightly, “And you can stop making that face at me. I helped” Mapi forced a smile putting her fists in the air half heartedly.

Alexia turned her head to Irene, “I’m going to kill her”

Mapi screeched as Alexia was over the chair between them and were wrestling with each other, Irene sighed, she watched as she swore her toddler had more vicious fights in pre-school than what these two grown women were doing. Mapi looked mischievous as started to try to tickle Alexia who let out a laugh, before it faded quickly her scowl quickly coming back.

“Suficiente” Irene called, her eyes rolled as the pair fell off the chairs when the one under Mapi tipped and tipped them onto the floor giving Alexia the upper hand. When Irene came around the desk, Alexia had Mapi in what could only be described as an attempt at a choke hold.

“Who’s the best?”

“I am” Mapi cried out when Alexia pulled tighter

“Who’s the best?”

“This is ridiculous” Irene pointed out, “You’re going to hurt each other”

“Mapi! Who’s the best?”

“Not you!” She snarled as she was desperately trying to loosen the grip Alexia had on her, with not much great success. Alexia really had worked on her strength since her ACL and Mapi was leaning the hard way.

The door opened, “Hey Keira text me, she said I should probably come check” A noise cast Ingrid’s eyes down to the floor, “Mapi was still, alive” she spoke her voice laced with confusion, she looked to Irene who simply shrugged

“Say it! Say I’m the best”

“No! You couldn’t even kiss the girl!”

“You tried to kiss someone?” Ingrid asked and the new voice paused the two women, “At work? That goes against everything I know about you” Ingrid shook her head

Alexia as she sat up gave Mapi another shove, “You made me look a fool”

“You don’t look a fool Alexia” Irene spoke, “Well, wrestling on the floor with your friend like pre-schoolers makes you look like a fool but with Mia. You don’t”

“It was Mia?” Ingrid’s shock caused her to exclaim that louder than she ever intended

“I can talk to-“

Mapi stopped instantly when Alexia pointed a finger at her getting to her feet, “No you’ve done enough”

“Sorry” Ingrid put her hands up, “Can we roll this back a bit? You! Tried to kiss! Mia?” Ingrid looked confused

“Yes and Ingrid I help." Mapi excitedly jumped to her feet, "See Alexia was this close” Mapi put her thumb and forefinger up putting her eye right behind it, making sure it was just the right distance apart, reminding Alexia just how close she came, “And I walked in before she could turn her down and she was ungrateful and attacked me” Mapi flung her arms for dramatic affect, Mapi pouted checking her arms over, “You know i bruise like a peach”

Ingrid put her hands up in defeat, “I need to go find Mia” she turned and left without another word, Mapi disappointingly shaking her head at Alexia

“You’re like a woman repellent, you even made Ingrid leave” Alexia’s face scrunched again and Irene sighed as they ended up on the floor. Yet again.

Mia lay on her back in bed just staring at the ceiling, her mind going a million miles a minute. She knew she should be sleeping but her brain just wouldn’t switch off.

“What you thinking about?” Patri asked, “You’ll set the smoke detectors off in a minute” Patri smiled at her own joke that didn’t get her a Mia eye roll.

Mia smiled and flopped her head to look at the Spaniard, “Alexia.. she makes no sense”

“In what way?”

“She’s so stand offish, never really talks to me. In training has nothing nice to say and then we have a few conversations where she makes it clear she’s the captain, which by the way, I have noticed, these conversations, only happens when no ones around and then she goes and does that”

“Talk to her about it”

Mia laughed, “Who in there right mind calls out Alexia Putellas”

“I’m not denying she’s different with you, but you are also different with her” Patri finally looked to Mia, “Every girl that has ever come through those doors, they’re all over her, constantly in her face talking to her, constantly seeking her approval.”

“What so I have to kiss her arse to get anywhere with her?”

Patri smiled, “No.. she seems to hold a lot of respect for you and I think thats why, you’ve just come in and got stuck in and she likes work ethic and you have that” Patri laughed softly, “I can see you don’t believe me”

“Would you?” Patri shrugged, “Patri”

“Alexia can be shy and awkward”

“Nooo” Mia spoke faking shock, “You don’t say?”

“I don’t think she knows how to approach you”

“I’m that unapproachable?”

“Good Night Mia”

“Oh yeah like I’m getting any sleep” she huffed in to the dark after Patri turned the lights off

Mia was walking out to training her pace slowed as she was trying to put the tracker in the back of her bra. The little pocket just wouldn’t open. She felt a tap on her side and a hand gently take it from her.

“Gracias” she said when she felt another tap to signal they’d finished, she looked as Alexia moved from behind her and picked up a jog past and away from her.

She should have known Alexia wouldn’t change that she’d be slightly stand offish, seemingly having time for everyone else but her. In this moment however. She wanted some reassurance that it wasn’t all a stunt. A mean prank. Alexia always laughed with her fellow players but today, it felt like Mia was being stabbed every time.

She felt more alone than ever. She felt the tears tripping her as she ran through the drills. She didn’t know why she felt so emotional about it, but if she really thought about it. Maybe being told by Katie for the last 6 months she wasn’t good enough and nothing special had gotten to her more than she thought.

She managed to pull herself together by the end of the group drills. They were split into groups for the rondos, Mia put her hands on her hips, her eyes scanned past Alexia and that’s when she noticed her intense stare. She actually looked concerned.

Alexia moved to the water cooler when they were told they could have a water break whilst they set up the next exercise, Mia bent over to grab an energy drink, again when she chanced a look Alexia was looking at her. Mia broke the eye contact when Keira touched her back Mia stepping back so she could get in to get a drink. Mia moved away and sat on the floor legs bent leaning back on her hands, face lifted to the sky one eye shut as she watched the birds fly over head.

She heard the grass near her crunch. She looked it was Alexia stood over her looking down at her like she had something on the tip of her tongue she wanted to say. Alexia knew she wasn’t one to talk but when she noticed Mia had gone awkward with her, she decided that maybe if they could have a conversation and it wasn’t brought up maybe they could move past it. Alexia lifted her hand moving it around until the shadow blocked the sun from Mia’s eyes, “I um, I meant to say” Alexia swallowed, “If you needed time to go.. to go to the cemetery whilst you here” Mia couldn’t help the tension leave her. “I don’t mind having that conversation with Pere if it was something you.. you know you thought you couldn’t. If that was something you wanted, to do”

“Sit down” Mia spoke, “You’re hurting my neck” Alexia did as she was told sitting down beside her facing her, her fingers instantly playing with the grass, “Thank you “ her soft voice lifted Alexia’s eyes, “But my parents aren’t here in London, they’re in Barcelona” Alexia looked confused. “Remember when we first met and you were surprised I spoke Catalan to you”

Alexia nodded, “I haven’t forgotten”

“My mum she was born in Barcelona, her dad L’Ametlla de Mar where the family has lived for generations - other than my grandparents and my Aunt, all still do now.”

Alexia tilted her head, “You’re Catalan?”

“I guess so.. but I’ve always said I’m English, born and raised there but my mum always made sure I learnt about the history and the culture, the language most importantly because a lot of her family don’t know English at all”

“How did she end in England? Your Papa?”

“His job took them there” Mia nodded, “They met in Barcelona, my dad was in the Navy, his boat docked there and they met on a night out…when he was relocated to be based in London, mum went to live with him and they never looked back. His job kept them there then they had me and they just built a life there”

“So.. your dad English?”

Mia smiled, “No.. Norwegian, he was born in the town Ingrid is from.. thats how we first started talking and bonding I guess, I’d never been so she was telling me all about it, she said she’d take me one day”

“You never go visit family?” Alexia furrowed her brows

Mia shook her head, “No, my dad was given up as a baby, he bounced around a lot until he turned 18 and went into the navy” As Mia sat chatting to Alexia about family, she realised her earlier feelings were very much wrong, and as much as she would never tell her. Maybe listen to Patri, she had known this woman for many years.

“Your family sounds complicado” Alexia chuckled, “I need…” Alexia moved her hands, the word escaping her “family tree”

Mia laughed with her, “Same.”

Alexia looked over her shoulder when the whistle blew, she narrowed her eyes at the grin Mapi was giving her, before raising to her feet offering her hands to Mia, Mia was shocked at with how much ease Alexia lifted her to her feet, she didn’t have to push herself up whats so ever.

Alexia touched her back briefly before they started walking, she let her shoulder brush against Mia a few times.

Over the next few days they go on without speaking on the interruption. They seem to spend more time together than ever before. Alexia seemed to seek her out at meal times, she would text to just have a conversation not to request to see her. In training Alexia was much of the same, didn’t spend much time with Mia but she soon realised it was because of how focused Alexia was. She took football incredibly seriously, her competitive nature driving her to always do her best. Even in training.

Mia had yet another amazing game for Barcelona in the last friendly scoring twice this time. Alexia was on the bench and jumped up both times celebrating the goals passionately.

It was a whirlwind of a visit to London for Mia and she found herself glad to get back to Barcelona and be embraced by her grandmother and grandfather. She was cooked her favourite meal, ran a bath and had new pyjamas on her bed waiting. As she climbed into bed, she felt at home. A feeling she hadn’t felt in some time.

Mia was walking her Aunts dog along the beach, her Aunt had gone on holiday with her family and her grandparents took the dog in. But Mia was left to walk Roc, he was a good boy so she didn't mind, but Mia found other dog walkers were insistent on talking to her even when it was 7am and she was clearly not in the mood.

Mia was throwing the dog’s ball each time he sprinted it back over, this dog never seemed to tire. Bounds of energy making her smile with his silliness.

She lifted her head and spotted Alexia, she was with the two women she saw her with that first night. She was happy. Laughing.

Glowing.

Mia averted her eyes when Alexia’s sister seemingly spotted her and was telling Alexia. She tried to act nonchalant but she started over thinking every little thing she did every step she took.

She kept throwing the ball for Roc when she felt her phone buzz, she obviously played it cool. Left it exactly five steps before she pulled her phone from her pocket.

She felt disappointed it was Patri and not Alexia, she smiled at the message and fired off a text back. Patri was quickly becoming a really good friend of hers, they’d started to meet outside of work. She was getting a social life through Patri, meeting new people, building connections.

“Hola”

The sudden voice made Mia jump ever so slightly, Alexia’s amused smile soothing her instantly, “Hola..”

“Sorry” Alexia spoke, “Didn’t mean to make you jump”

Mia told the dog to get down when he was excitedly greeting Alexia, “That’s ok, what brings you to the beach?”

“Oh um, me and my sister like to bring mami for a picnic here sometimes”

Alexia blushed at the smile she was getting from Mia, “Go enjoy your picnic” Mia took a step to get Roc her Aunts dogs ball and throw it when he kept whining. Alexia moved with her however as her feet moved seemingly wanting to make a conversation.

“Your dog?”

“No he’s my aunts, dog sitting” Mia told her glancing in her direction

Alexia smiled when Roc dropped the ball at her feet this time, “I have a Pomeranian, she’s called Nala.. we should do this with them together sometime”

Mia smiled, “Like a doggie play date?”

Alexia laughed, it was a beautiful sound Mia watched the side of her face as Alexia was clearly nervous, “Sure” Alexia chanced a look at Mia.

Mia suddenly felt so stupid. How had she not seen how attractive Alexia was before now. It hit her like a tonne of bricks. Her mouth went dry, her heart beat quickened and when Alexia smiled at her, her stomach flipped.

“Shall i text you?” Alexia asked

Mia nodded pulling her self together, “Yeah”

Mia was walking with Roc to go meet Alexia and Nala, she couldn’t get over how nervous she felt. It was stupid. It was Alexia she’d known her close to 2 months now, yes it hadn’t always been on speaking terms but there was a comfortability there by now. She was a face she knew. But that had seemingly all gone out the window as she was walking down the path lined by trees and benches seeing Alexia occupying one seemingly giving Nala a pep talk. Mia had been warned Nala could be a little feisty sometimes. It wasn’t that, that was worrying her. It was the planned one on one time with Alexia that wasn’t forced due to a pre season tour. It was thought out, they’d made time in there days, Alexia more than Mia. Mia wasn’t overly busy between training. Other than single handedly keeping Zara a float. It felt more. She didn’t want to use the word. But it did feel like a date even if was just to get the dogs together.

Mia and Alexia wandered and chatted, Mia hadn’t stopped laughing it was intoxicating being around Alexia when she was being funny. She wasn’t even meaning to, but it was coming so naturally that Mia wished she’d had this Alexia from the moment she met her, however would this feel so special if she had. That she got to spend time with her in this way. Get this side of her.

“Do you feel settled at Barca?” Alexia nudged her shoulder into Mia’s, “And don’t feel like you have to lie” Mia smiled checking over her shoulder that the dogs, that were getting on like a house on fire, were still following.

“Settled in the city.. as for the club, I think that will take longer, although saying being settled in the city is lie, I still need to sort somewhere to live and a car” Alexia looked painfully confused

“Where do you live?”

“My grandparents, don’t get me wrong, having my grans cooking everyday, amazing but I can’t live there forever and having my granddad bring me and pick me up from training every day”

Alexia chuckled calling Nala as she’d strayed a little too far, “The club can help with finding you somewhere to live if you need them to”

“They can?” Alexia nodded, “Oh.. cool”

“MIA!” A little voice shouted, the pair turned and there was Irene Paredes with her wife as there Son Mateo was excitedly running towards her.

Mia smiled stopped and crouched as he got to her, “Hola Mateo” she lifted him when the dogs were trying to lick his face as he excitedly told her about their trip to the park. Alexia was met warmly by both women, Irene warm with Mia and Lucia obviously was lovely with Mia but wasn’t as comfortable.

Mia missed Irene whispering, “We’re so talking about this” To Alexia as they hugged, the toddler somehow convinced the pair to go with them for ice cream. As they walked to the ice cream shop Alexia had an enthusiastic smile as she carried Mateo on request much to his mothers dismay that he should be walking. “Auntie Ale said it ok Mama” Mateo called to Lucia as she listened intently to his stories and asked many questions. She was great with kids which oddly shocked Mia, she didn’t seem the kid type.

They got to the shop soon enough and all got their choices all very different, they found a little table outside to sit and eat the ice cream together. Everyone sitting in the sits Mateo picked out for them, Mia of course next to him.

Mia turned her head catching Alexia smiling her spoon slowly coming towards Mia’s cup making Mateo giggle, Mia poked her spoon into Alexia’s batting it away, “They asked if you wanted sprinkles, you said no.”

“Come on, Capitana” Alexia motioned to herself before she shrugged as if that allowed her the sprinkles, her spoon coming backs towards the little pot of ice cream infant of Mia. Alexia's laughter soft and alluring as Mia stabbed it away yet again with her own spoon a little more forceful this time.

“You don’t hold captain privileges over my sprinkles La Reina” Mia rose her eyebrows poking her spoon at her one final time, silently warning her. Irene and her wife shared a look that told them they’d be discussing this later, of course the wife knew all about the Mia saga, Mapi had excitedly filled her in when Mapi and Alexia got an invite for dinner one evening.

“Mateo, do you think Mia should share her sprinkles with Auntie Ale?” Alexia asked leaning forward nodding her head at the little boy, to encourage him to side with her. Mia smiled when he shook his head most of his sprinkles spread around his mouth and it appeared his shirt had enjoyed the sweet treat just as much.

“You’re such a clever boy Mateo” Mia smiled at him as she sucked her spoon clean, “Alexia!” Mia exclaimed as she caught the spoon in her ice cream.

“Mia, you can have my sprinkles” Mateo announced holding his cup towards Mia who smiled and politely refused shaking her head.

“No handsome you’re ok, you have your sprinkles”

“But Auntie Ale make you mad”

“I’m not mad” Mia shot Alexia a look, “I’m just disappointed” Alexia put her hand over her heart, trying to convince Mia her words cut her real deep but it failed in its task when she couldn’t keep her shoulders still as she silently laughed at her self.

“I don’t think she’s sorry Mia”

“No I don’t think she is either Mateo, what are we going to do with her?” Mia smiled when he simply shrugged continuing with his ice cream.

Mia was spending the evening at Patri’s apartment, “You’re a good cook” Mia rose her eyes, seeing Patri’s face, “You didn’t cook this did you”

Patri shook her head, “No, my mami dropped it off before you got here”

“Well your mami is a really good cook” Mia giggled tucking in.

“What did you do today?” Patri narrowed her eyes when Mia didn’t answer right away, “Mia”

Mia rose her eyes, “I went on a dog walk with Alexia”

Patri leant forward, “You don’t own a dog! Did you steal someones dog?”

“No but my aunt does and she’s away so i have him, we bumped into each other on the beach and she asked what was i supposed to say”

“That makes it sound like you didn’t want to”

Mia put her fork down lifting the wine glass, “I wanted to go.. really wanted to go”

Mia rolled her eyes when Patri just smiled at her, Mia was barely honest with herself let alone others about Alexia. But it seemed Patri was more aware than Mia herself about maybe the way Mia viewed Alexia.

“Has she always been that..” Mia didn’t know how to word it, she didn’t know whether she wanted to confirm all what Patri had playfully teased her about. Surely that would only fuel it more.

“Awkward?” Patri tried to finish her sentence

Mia’s glass paused at her lips, “I was going to say hot but that to” Mias brows furrowed as Patri was dramatically choking on her seafood Paella

“You think she’s hot?”

Mia shrugged, “Only since yesterday, i don’t know, i guess we were talking on the beach and it just. Hit me. Like she’s fucking attractive”

“And you didn’t notice that before?”

“No!” Mia exclaimed just as confused, “I suppose i was so focused on not pissing her off more than i already appeared to, i didn’t look at her all that much”

“And now.. you look at her” Patri smirked

“Shut..up” Patri grinned, “I’m not telling you another thing”

“Oh come on i’m kidding, you’re my friend we talk about crushes”

“It’s not a crush Patri, i’ve just stumbled on to the fact she has a pleasing face”

“So if she tried to kiss you again you'd” Patri like the word extend hoping for Mia to fill in the blanks

“I wouldn’t kiss her” That wasn't the response she thought she'd get

Patri was actually shocked, “Really?”

“One she’s my captain a point she has made perfectly clear, Two, she is so far out of my league it’s laughable and Three she’s Alexia Putellas”

Patri tilted her head, “Of all people, you were the person i thought would be least bothered by the fact she’s Alexia Putellas"

“I’m not bothered by it, it’s just. Relevant!”

“How?”

Mia shrugged, “I don’t know”

“Sorry?” Patri shook her head trying to unscramble her head from what she’d just heard “.. you really wouldn’t kiss her?”

“Your question should be would she kiss me”

“She tried”

“Now i’m not so sure she did”

Patri dropped the subject as it was clearly making Mia uncomfortable, she really wanted to talk Alexia to see where she stood. But she feared it could back fire and look like Mia had been gossiping or asked her to have that conversation.

Mia woke up the morning of the first Liga F game day of the season feeling like she’d been hit by a bus. Of all days to wake up sick. That put her in a mood before her feet had even touched the ground. She tried all morning to take fluids on board eat and take whatever medicine her Gran had in her own chemist in the bathroom. But as she was picked up by Keira, since her Grandparents had already left to go meet the family to head to the game, she could see instantly Mia wasn’t herself.

“You ok?”

Mia smiled nodding, “Yeah you? Bit nervous” In yesterday’s meeting she found out she’d be starting which came as a real shock but mixed with excitement that her family were all coming and it wasn’t for nothing. To relief. Pere saw her good enough to start there opening fixture the one that set the tone for the season. She couldn’t let him down. How could she walk in and say she was too sick to play.

How could she opt to sit on the bench and deny her family seeing her play for the club they’d supported for generations. A lot of who have made the hour and a half trip to Estadi Johan Cruyff in rush hour traffic for the late kick off.

Mia somehow convinced Keira by the time they got to the stadium she was fine and the cough was just a tickle. Well convinced her enough for her to drop it.

Mia kept to herself as they got ready for the warm up she felt ok during the warm up her limbs felt less heavy afterwards and she hadn’t coughed in a while. Maybe she was on the mend, she’d convinced herself it was nerves presenting themselves in a different way.

Mia stood hands on hips waiting for her turn for a shot on goal before they headed in, she knew exactly where her family were and did everything she could to avoid looking at them. It was an emotional moment for her as it was without seeing them here.

It wasn’t until she was lined up in the tunnel and Alexia turned to check in with her team she saw something was off with Mia. Hands on her hips swaying side to side head lowered ever so slightly. She watched for a second putting it down to nerves or even just preparing for the game.

Mia rose her head as Alexia led the line, she took a deep breath took her mascots hand gave it a gentle squeeze followed by a smile and put one foot in front of the other. That’s all she needed to do in this game. Put one foot in front of the other. And maybe score if possible.

Mia joined in the prematch picture, then the hugs as Alexia went over to the coin toss the girls got in the huddle ready. Alexia came jogging over squeezing in beside Mia to do the pre match talk.

Mia was walking to the line to start the game when Alexia jogged to her side, “Make your runs” Alexia spoke, “i’ll find you”

Mia nodded Alexia touched the small of her back briefly as she moved by her.

Mia got to the line and her cough came back, she tried to push off that she felt a little lightheaded as the whistle blew and tried to amerce herself in the game. It was a big moment in her career. She at least for now was a starter for the best club in the world.

The home fans were loving how easily Alexia and Mia seemed to link up, they were running their opponents defenders ragged, having many shots between them that if it weren't for last ditch defending or top goalkeeping would of found the back of the net.

However, it wasn’t long before one of there link up plays ended with Alexia slotting the ball into the back of the net. Alexia made a beeline for Mia then slapping hands. Alexia was instantly concerned Mia looked knackered pale her eyes sunken. Her smile didn’t make her eyes sparkle like normal. She started to move away her face going into her arm as she coughed, “She sick?” Aitana winced at the sound of her cough, it was that cough that your chest hurt hearing it.

Keira nodded, “Think so, she tried to play it down when i picked her up” Keira started walking, “She looks fucking awful”

Keira tapped Mia’s back as she went jogging by, Mia repaying the affection.

It wasn’t long after the restart that Mia got the ball on the charge she looked up she wasn’t far into the half when she let rip seeing the keeper off her line and thought fuck it. It was such a long way to run again so soon. Soon as she saw the net ripple she found the energy to run to the corner she knew her family were in jumping shouting, “Vamos!” At them tapping the Barcelona badge. She could have cried on the spot seeing how happy they were. She turned as a sea of Barcelona players just as happy clattered into her. She'd grown to love the little head bops they seemed to give each other when they couldn't physically hug her.

“Vamos Mia!” Alexia was grinning so big holding her face giving it a little shake before letting go.

Mia at least wanted a goal under belt if she was brought off early, she wanted to continue to prove to the club the team and herself she was good enough to be here.

Mia despite the coughing and her few dizzy spells she made it through to the hour mark after scoring another goal just after half time.

She plopped onto the bench letting herself cough properly for the first tome all evening shoved a towel over her head and sat with her head in her hands the nausea now kicking in. A few of the girls checked in and got a short nod when asking if she was ok.

Mia didn’t know how long she sat with her eyes closed until she felt someone sit beside her. She couldn't even tell you she hadn't actually maybe nodded off.

“Agua” the voice questioned, Alexia. She must of been subbed off too. Mia shook her head using her hands to wipe her face with the towel. She couldn’t help but smile when Alexia leaning on her own thighs peaked under, “Estás bein?”

Mia sat back pulling the towel off her head finally, the doctor coming over, she had a conversation about how she felt assuring was probably just a 24 hour thing before he left her with water, an energy drink and a banana.

“Your family?” Alexia asked motioning in the direction of them

Mia nodded chewing her banana, “Don’t think there’s anyone left in L’Ametlla de Mar amount of them here”

Alexia smiled, but it faded when she turned her head to Mia, “You shouldn’t have played if you sick” Alexia didn’t like how pale and clammy Mia was. Mia shrugged biting into the banana, “You need a ride home?” Alexia asked as Mia’s body was going heavy again, Mia didn’t answer she just didn’t have the energy. “In fact, i just take you to my home, you stay in my spare room, i can keep an eye on you then”

Mia blinked, eating her banana again, “Is it even worth the little energy i have arguing with you?”

Alexia chuckled, “No”

“Fine, you can tell Keira then I don't need a ride”

Mia didn’t have the energy to argue with Alexia even she knew it wasn’t worth arguing as the stubborn captain would throw that card at her and not give up and she’d end up there anyway.

It was all a blur for Mia the end of the game thanking the fans going to the corner to wave and blow kisses to her family. She was just counting down the minutes until she could sleep.

Her mind was silent as she was driven by Alexia through the city she could feel Alexia look to her ever so often. She often had to close her eyes the street lights speeding by upsetting her head, but she was curious. She wanted to see where they were driving to. She recognised some places she saw, Patri said Alexia didn’t leave far from her so maybe the route was similar. And there went the shop Mia and Patri walked to one or two times when mid movie nights they’d run out of treats.

Mia put her finger to the glass, “Patri lives there” Alexia smiled softly

“She does”

Alexia indicated and pulled down into her underground parking under her building.

The captain insisted on carrying Mias bag and headed to the lift Alexia smiled with a flick of her head encouraging Mia when the usual stubborn Mia just didn’t argue.

“Don’t laugh at me Le Reina”

There was a still a little of Mia there as they stepped into the lift, “I’m not” Mia rested her head on the side of the lift, “You want to go straight to sleep or you want to eat first?” Alexia posed to Mia

“Sleep”

Alexia unlocked her door after they made the trip up, Mia smiled when Nala was there to greet her and much like airport security was in the bags soon as they touched the floor.

Alexia shut the door behind Mia flicking on some soft lighting, Mia’s eyes scanned Alexia’s home and if Alexia hadn’t of brought her here she would of known this was Alexia’s home instantly it just screamed Alexia.

“The rooms this way” Alexia smiled softly seeing Mias heavy eyes, Mia silently followed looking as she heard Nala’s nails clicking on the floor behind her. Alexia pointed, “Make yourself comfortable, i’ll go grab you something to change in to”

Mia nodded, “Thank you” she wandered into the room spotted the bed to her right and it was calling her name. She lowered herself down onto it and her eyes closed almost immediately with the level of comfort she felt. It was like she’d lay in someone’s arms. It was just what her body needed. Her body didn’t hurt anymore.

Alexia came back and smiled, Mia was asleep already, she took a blanket from the wardrobe and placed it over her. Left the spare clothes on the end of the bed for her closing the blinds.

“Vamos” she whispered to Nala to get her to leave the room, “Buenas noches Mía” Alexia spoke softly turning the light off and closing the door over.

Part 6

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

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corazondebeskar-reads · 1 month ago

Text

of rage and ruin - chapter nine

chapter nine

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

werewolf!alpha!Joel Miller x f!omega!reader

word count: 3.6k

summary: things take a turn for the worse.

Please read the warnings as some new important ones have been added. NOTE: this is the last time that the SA tag will be used in this story. However, the events of this chapter are important. If you decide to skip this chapter, feel free to message me and I’ll fill you in. Or message if you want specifics about the tags to decide if you want to read it.

chapter warnings: non-con, dark, dead dove do not eat, a/b/o, alpha/omega dynamics, omegaverse, captivity, canon-typical violence, genre-typical violence, horror themes, graphic violence, abuse by captors (not by either joel or reader), body horror, viewer discretion is advised, sexual assault (NOT by joel, NOT described, just implied and alluded to), p in v, torture

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

You were wrong about Mike. About his lack of retaliation.

You were so, so wrong.

That much is clear when you wake up.

The first sign that things aren’t quite right is that you never did get around to going to sleep last night.

The second is that you may be buried, or something. You can’t quite move your limbs beyond wiggling your fingers and toes. And you can’t see shit.

The third sign is that you can’t smell Joel. Not beyond what’s soaked into your skin and sweater. No, he’s very much not here. Or anywhere nearby, if the rapidly tightening feeling in your chest is any indication.

It’s panic you can’t shake off, you know, since you can’t fucking move.

The fluorescent overhead buzzes to life.

“Not so brave now, are you?” The voice blows in from across the room and sinks in your gut like it’s sleeping with the fishes.

You really, truly are in some deep shit.

You’ve been kidnapped from your kidnappers. Honestly, what did you do in a past life to deserve this?

He’s right about one thing. The confidence you clung to in the early days has been picked at like carrion. You’re scared.

“I didn’t–I’m–” but something is wrong, so very, very wrong. You’re bubbling out gibberish and spit. It’s just sounds, dribbling from sloppy lips.

He rolls his eyes. “Shut up. It ain’t gonna wear off for a while, so best just sit quietly like a good bitch.”

You’re not sure if it's the panic or whatever he’s drugged you with, but your throat is cinched, and your cheeks sting from the uncontrollable stream of tears.

“Let’s see what’s so fuckin’ special about you. Why your cunt is worth more than my brother’s life,” he spits, unfortunately literally, as droplets spray.

Shit. They were actual brothers. Not that it mattered; what was done was done, but you had really miscalculated this.

His hand is on your shoulder. It’s better than where you thought he was reaching, and yet, still horrible. It’s not like you haven’t had to deal with handsy or aggressive men. It’s just… usually, you can move. Fight. Run.

His hand is nothing like Joel’s. His fingers are short, his nails broken and edged with grime. There are scars and dry skin, like Joel, but it’s nothing like his rough grip. There’s no nick above the webbing of his thumb, no calluses on the plump pads of his fingers to remind you that you’re alive.

Mike brushes his thumb over Joel’s bite, the thin newborn skin taut and jagged. You make a sound. You don’t hear it, not with the way your heart is beating in your eardrums, not the way every note scrapes your throat, but you grate out a sound that might have been a hiss.

Or a growl.

His hand connects with your cheek, which does not help the dizziness stuffed between your ears.

You’re not even mad, because it makes you dizzy enough that you don’t really register what comes after. Maybe you would have been worried about that, but he hit you hard enough that you didn’t even remember how hard you’d been hit.

He must know he’s on a dwindling timetable. Inevitably, by dawn, the others will return to the base with Joel in tow. Inevitably, by dawn, they’ll know.

As if he can tell you’ve dug up a fragment of hope, he leers, taking a swig from a bottle of dirty brown liquor. “You think Jim’s gonna waste resources on finding you?” he murmurs, grimy fingers stroking your cheek.

And just like that, with a sharp breath, you lose that hope. Because he’s right, he’s undeniably right. Jim never misses a chance to bitch about the drain you are. They don’t need you, not really. Neither does Joel, not really.

It’s easy, after the hours that have passed, to give in to the overwhelming dread. His hand wanders as it settles in, and you twitch away from his touch.

“Guess it’s wearin’ off,” Mike muses, taking another drink. “Can’t have you puttin’ up a fight now.” His bottle clinks against the file cabinet he sets it upon as he squats to dig through a duffel bag.

There’s nothing you can do when he ties you down. There’s nothing you can do as he grips your cheeks hard, his thumb digging into your jaw until your mouth opens. You try not to swallow the liquor he pours in, only to aspirate it instead, wheezing and sputtering to little effect.

“Jesus. Can’t even handle a little booze,” he sneers. “Too bad. Can’t have you gettin’ too feisty, huh?” He forces more down your throat, and it burns.

He keeps squeezing your face, peering down at your mouth. “Reckon I should teach you a lesson about biting,” he said, tapping the bottle lightly against your front teeth. A whimper of fear slips free, and he grins crookedly.

“Yeah, you don’t like that, huh? My brother didn’t much like gettin’ bit, either.”

He steps away to rifle back through the duffle, and when he comes back, it’s with a pair of rusted pliers.

You can feel your body twitch, trying its very hardest. The lingering drugs and booze make your head spin and throb. Mike faded in and out of view, but made his presence very clear as he pried your jaw back open.

He tapped each tooth with the pliers, hemming and hawing about where to start. Garbled sounds are all the protest you can muster, trying to shake your head loose of his grasp as he selects an incisor.

The first two attempts fail, the pliers slipping free, battering you in the process. The third try, though, clamps on just right. He clumsily tugs, to no avail, before wiggling and twisting the tooth. Reluctantly, your body parts ways with it as he increases the force, plucking the loosened tooth from the gum.

You can’t even really hear your own screams. There’s pain, there’s blood, there’s Mike’s sick laughter. And then there’s darkness.

—

It’s not the fight that wakes you. Not the gunshots, not the snarling. Everything has died down by the time you come around.

Well, not everything. Based on the sounds, you’d hazard a guess that Mike is still at least a little alive. When you look up, you’re thrilled to find out you can, that the paralysis has waned.

Then, of course, you wish you hadn’t looked at all. Once you have, though, you can’t look away. You understand that Tool song now, the one from the CD your dad burned you before the world went to hell.

For a moment, Joel meets your eyes, and you are the wolf, nearly. You can feel the way it burns through your veins.

Satisfied that you aren’t afraid, that you’re okay for a moment, he finishes his feast.

There’s not much left of Mike when he tosses his corpse into a corner. It smacks against the far wall and drops to the ground. His final resting place.

The Wolf that is Joel, that is your alpha, that is your savior, stands on his hind legs with those unsettling inverse ankle-knee-freaky bits bent. But even crouching, he fills the room. He’s a blur, like the first time you saw him, an ink blot in the center of your vision. A wormhole absorbing all the light. What little is left reflects off his shiny body. It takes you a moment to realize his fur (or his body hair, as he insists) is soaked in blood.

It clings to the plaque on his teeth. His hands are steeped in it, some already hardening or coagulating under the stretch of his claws. He stalks over to you, and you do not flinch from him. His claws rend the rope as if it were no more than spaghetti. You tremble uncontrollably as he helps you sit up, most of your faculties back under your control. His blood-soaked, massive paws cradle your cheeks, pulling back abruptly when you whimper.

A growl rumbles from his chest, and he throws his head back and howls. It brings footsteps in your direction as he gathers you into his arms. You’ve never felt smaller than you do now, and it’s not just the bulk and heft of his body. He cradles you with a delicacy unbefitting his sharp, deadly nature, but it’s all the more Joel to you than the brutality you witnessed.

The raiders filter in, just a few of them, more to control him than assist, but they reclaim Mike’s stolen supplies and pay you no mind. At least until Cheryl comes in.

“Alive after all, huh?” she says, approaching far closer than you think she should dare. But she wiggles the remote to the shock collar as she nears, peering at you. “Still want her, pet?” she asks Joel. “She’s all used up.”

He bares his teeth and snarls, and she shrugs. “It was just an option,” she says, hand dropping from the pistol on her belt.

You feel sick from the second brush with death in as many hours. Or maybe it’s from the bootleg booze and blood that’s been dripping down your throat.

He looks down at you, long tongue poking out to lap at your cheek before he realizes the injury is inside. He whines, and you shake your head, weaving your fingers in his fur and burying your face there. He doesn’t need words; neither of you do. He just takes you home.

No. Not home. You can’t let yourself accept that. But it’s been almost a year, now. Almost a year since they plucked you from that FEDRA truck and brought you to hell.

It’s not the cell that’s home, though. It’s him.

—

You look up at the wolf once you’re locked in, the relief of your familiar prison bubbling up like bile. The others go back to their day, the incident no more than a blip of inconvenience. Silence lingers, both of you waiting, waiting, waiting to hear the heavy thunk of the cellar’s deadbolt.

As soon as it sounds, you break.

“You found me,” you gasp, trailing into a whimper. “You found me, you found me.” Your voice is grating, leaking from your cracked and dry throat. It hurts to talk, your jaw throbs, and you struggle around the swelling, but you can’t stem the leak.

He grips your biceps with both paws, and rolls back the shift enough to speak. “I found you,” he says firmly, letting you feel his sturdy hold on you, keeping you there and present. “I’ve got you. Okay?”

You don’t respond, still shaking and swaying a little on the spot. “You found me,” you echo, raw and dredged up from the hollow of your lungs.

“Hey,” he growls without aggression. “ Listen to me. ” He doesn’t mean to do it. His voice drops a register, an even lower rumble than usual, and your attention snaps up to him.

He winces. There’ll be time to apologize later, though. “I’ve got you,” he repeats steadily. “Okay?”

You nod. “Okay,” you echo in a whisper.

“I will always find you,” he promises, eyes gone dark. “Always, little omega. You’re mine, and there’s nowhere on this godforsaken earth that they can hide you from me.”

In any other context, it would frighten you. It should, by all means, frighten you a little. Instead, you kiss him.

It’s a mistake that sends you pulling back, gasping in pain, and all the ferocity on his face falls.

“Let me see,” he coaxes gently, cradling your jaw. He’s careful as he presses your lip to the side to get a good look. “ Jesus, ” he whispers.

You can see the guilt building up, layers upon layers from all his life. You won’t let this, won’t let you be another. “Joel—”

But he’s not having it. He bristles and narrows his eyes at you. “Would you stop tryin’ to run your mouth? You’re making it bleed.” His eyes dart over your face, stopping back on your missing tooth each time before sighing, shoulders slumping.

“C’mon,” he grumbles, leaving no room for argument by simply picking you up and carrying you over to the bed. He settles with you straddling his lap, wincing. He looks down for only a moment. “I’ll take care of that next. Sit still ‘n be good.”

It turns out not to be a hard order to follow. He sets about to lick your wounds, starting with your mouth. He doesn’t mean for it to turn into anything, he really doesn’t, but he’s licking inside your mouth. As his spit mixes with yours, as he laves his tongue oh-so-gently over and over, the familiar tingling starts to set in. It numbs the pain, not entirely, but the relief is enough to make you sigh softly against his mouth.

He can’t entirely be blamed as it turns into lazy kisses, tongues brushing comfort over one another, each press of lips like a mantra. I’m here, I’m here, I’m here. You’re not sure who’s reassuring who.

It’s not going to fix it. There’s not a magical makeout session that can restore your tooth or even heal the socket. Not that quickly, anyway. But it eases the pain, and so does the way his warm hands hold you like you’re something precious. The way he groans into the kiss, the way he can’t stop reaching for every bit of you, checking meticulously to make sure nothing else was taken from you.

He makes good on his promise to soothe your other wounds. He can’t quite numb your aching mind or racing heart, can’t slide his tongue over the places that shattered inside, but he can damn well remove every trace of Mike from your body.

He settles you down on the mattress, settles himself into the wolf, and he licks every inch of you. His long, hot tongue is just rough enough to make you feel clean. There’s no way even a cell of Mike’s skin is left behind on yours. Joel eats it all up like he did the man himself. It leaves your whole body tingling, your heart pounding in your ears, your cunt gushing by the time he sheaths himself in you.

There’s no room left for anyone else. There’s no room for anything but you and Joel in the darkness.

It’s too late before either of you realize he’s triggered his own rut. Your body responds beautifully, burning under his touch, following your alpha into blissful oblivion. He fusses relentlessly, worried despite his own distress and desire, not wanting you to feel trapped or forced. Not again. Never again.

It’s a promise neither of you are sure he can keep, but both know he’ll die trying.

It isn’t as long as your first heat, but it’s all the more intense. Your little room fills with sweat, pants and groans replacing any need for words. And it’s exactly what you need—no thoughts, no memories, no dealing with what you’ve suffered. Just Joel, just… love? No, that can’t be right. Just lust.

His cock is insistent, pressing into you, filling the gaps he’d left behind. He doesn’t bother turning back to the man, doesn’t bother trying to pretend he’s anything but a mindless creature right now. And still, he’s so gentle. More gentle than he’s ever been.

You didn’t have time to build a nest, but that’s okay. He doesn’t ever move from his place over your body, cocooning you, blocking everything else from sight. There’s just Joel. You’re warm and cozy and safe.

You almost forget that you’re locked up at all. He keeps you on such a high with his deft fingers, mouth, and cock that you can’t even fathom a time when he might have to part from you. The lock of your cunt around his knot is your echo of his promise. Never again.

—

“How much of this is even real?” you whisper in the fading light of your heat. Your hand is lazily raised, blocking out the fluorescents, but he catches it with his own, his thick fingers making room for themselves between yours. Locking you together in another way, keeping you close.

“Couldn’t tell ya,” he says quietly, gruff voice even coarser in the way he holds back, keeping it soft in your ear. “Probably nothin’. But it’s there anyway.”

He was sure as shit right about that. This burning in your chest, the way your heart picked up as he wove your fingers together and tugged your hands down, using both your arms to hold you to his chest, your unified fist in the center. It’s not real, not really. You don’t know him. He doesn’t know you. There’s nothing for this heavy feeling to rest upon, no foundation for the feelings that should not be there.

And yet.

The conversation is veering uncomfortably personal, of which you only have yourself to blame, but you run from it anyway. “You ever see Dawn of the Wolf? ” you ask, pushing for something unserious, something that’ll have him rolling his eyes and putting up a fuss about the W Word.

That’s not what happens, though.

His breath catches for a second before rolling out in a soft sigh, his warm breath ruffling the hairs at the nape of your neck. “Yeah,” he admits. “My—” and there’s something potent in his pause. Something that saps the silliness of your subject change away and dances dangerously close to serious.

“My daughter loved that shit,” he says.

You can’t help the way your body stiffens. You want to roll over and look at him, to parse his pursed lips and warm eyes. He doesn’t let you, though, tightening his grip around your waist, fingers pressing a little more insistently in the divots between your knuckles until you settle.

“Watched the damn movies, read the damn books, had the damn poster on her wall,” he says, something careful in his words. Like he’s trying to give this to you without giving anything up for himself. These memories he’s clutched in the recesses of his ventricles—they can’t be extracted without damaging the last soft tissue he could spare to wrap them in.

“So, who’s team were you on?” you tease instead.

“I didn’t give a shit,” he dismisses. A beat passes. “Why would she even have considered the wimpy blond vampire kid?”

“Oh, I see,” you say, nodding sagely. “You think the obvious choice was the tall, hairy, brooding wolf-man. I have to agree.”

“Shut up,” he grouses immediately. “It was all stupid, anyway. None of ‘em could stop whining.”

You go to turn over again, but this time, he lets you, both of his arms cradling you in a way that makes your throat feel tacky and tight. It’s made worse by the way his eyes are bright, the flecks of green bursting through the brown like lichen in soil.

“Never did get to see the sequel,” you say after a moment, trying to regain some sense in your brain.

He snorts. “Didn’t miss anything. I thought it couldn’t be worse than the first one but it was the stupidest two hours of my life.”

“I can’t believe you saw Dawn of the Wolf 2, and I didn’t,” you say. A beat passes. “Will you tell me about her?” you ask, barely a whisper, afraid to break whatever is happening.

“Not… not today,” he grants, and you take it for the huge step that it is, and nod, burying your face in his chest instead and taking a deep breath of his soothing scent. The oaky notes are easier to parse, now, much more complex. Hints of spices are there, sometimes.

You’re getting too familiar. So much so that when the chamomile blossom of his grief leaks through, your grip on him tightens just a little, and you find yourself pressing a kiss to the thick thatch of hair beneath your cheek.

It isn’t real, but how can it not be? How can something this intense not be real? No, it’s different. This isn’t real versus fake like something photoshopped, something on a green screen.

This is more than that. The dotted lines that make up constellations aren’t real, but it doesn’t change the way those stars are bound together to make something unique, something breathtaking.

“I get it now,” he murmurs, breaking your existential reverie.

“Get what?” you say, nose wrinkling.

He bumps his nose against yours, nudging at you in a way you know would involve a playful nip if he was his other self. “Why he didn’t just eat her,” he says.

You reward him with a bark of a laugh. “You’re still thinking about Dawn?”

This time he does nip at you, catching your ear gently with very human teeth. “S’your fault,” he grumbles, and you feel it rumble through his chest.

And yours.

No, wait, that was your stomach. You’re suddenly starving, and with that revelation comes another, much worse one. You sit up so quickly that Joel follows suit, eyebrows raised.

“What’s the matter?” He barks.

“It’s the food,” you whisper. “That’s why they don’t let you share. That’s how Mike got me. It’s in the fucking food.”

He sits up, cupping your jaw. “Explain,” he growls.

“I think they’re drugging us,” you finally tell him. It’s been a haunting tug in the back of your brain, one you didn’t really want to admit to. There’s been a matching tug in your gut, the feeling of something not sitting quite right, but you couldn’t put a finger on it.

It had been twenty years since you had something like cough syrup, anyway. But that’s the feeling. The fuzzy spot between your eyes where the ground seems to swoop up, the way you move through the day underwater.

“Fuck,” Joel whispers. But he can’t deny it makes sense. It makes too much goddamn sense. He’s been too fucking compliant, too fucked to care. He thought it was apathy borne of everything he’s been through.

But goddamnit. He knows. He just knows you’re right.

next chapter

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #alpha!joel x omega!reader #alpha!joel miller x omega!reader #werewolf!joel #omegaverse fic #dead dove fic

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ovrgrwnivy · 3 months ago

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THE WALLS ; JJ MAYBANK

SYNOPSIS ; when an unknown face appears in the outer banks searching for a father she's never met, she's unaware of how her life is about to be completely turned upside down.

WARNINGS ; jjmaybank x routledge!oc, strong language, depictions of violence, afab!reader, sexual content, mentions of abuse, drug and alcohol consumption, strangers to lovers, fast burn to slow burn, canon adjacent, not proofread.

AUTHORS NOTE ; changes are being made! see this post to learn more. to me, this part seems a little like a filler, but i want to explore veronica as a character and develop each relationship with each character as something more than a side character, not just honing in on her relationship with jj, which of course is a huge part of the story also.

part one. part two. part three.

when veronica begins to stir, the sun had long set. there was no way of knowing how long the pair had been asleep, all she knew was the lights of the chateau were off and there was a bright pink post it note stuck to jj’s head.

‘gone fishin’. jb pissed.’

pope signed off on the note, a small smiley face drawn inside the o of his name. veronica knew the pouges hadn’t actually gone fishing, that is was some sort of code jj would decipher when he came to.

in this moment, veronica was content. wrapped in the arms of the most beautiful person she’d ever seen.

what could only be described as a war was ongoing in her head. she wasn’t exactly one to believe in love at first sight, she thought this entire ‘spark’ thing was something made up by male authors to keep women reading their shitty romance books to keep them hooked, waiting for it to happen to them.

but then she met jj, and he was like a magnet. every time veronica was in his presence she was mesmerised, whenever he was gone she felt like all the colour was drained from the world.

there was only two problems.

there was a maximum of forty eight hours that they knew each other, add to that he was her brothers best friend, then add to that said brother made it crystal clear that inter-group dating was not allowed.

oh, and then the whole ‘nobody knows i’m his sister but us’ thing.

“you’re staring, baby” jj mumbled, his voice low and tired as he stirred beneath her “can’t say i blame you”

with a sarcastic scoff, veronica sits upright in the hammock, her legs laid out across the blonds lap “just admiring the drool on your face”

“aren’t you funny.”

comfortable silence follows, jj crosses his arms behind his head and blinks the sleep out of his eyes. even though she was staring off into the water, veronica could feel jj’s eyes on her.

“can i help you?” veronica quipped, a teasing lilt to her words as she face the boy in question “use your words, you’ll get there.”

unexpectedly, jj sighs and lets his head fall back “what am i doing?”

veronica knows he didn’t intent for her to hear him, but she did. she would be lying if she said she wasn’t disappointed, but she was even more disappointed in herself at the pang of sadness that hit her.

before she can say, or do, anything, jj is sat up a little straighter and speaking again.

“listen, you’re a really cool girl,” he pauses, shaking his head and starting again “you’re hot as shit, damn it!”

barely, veronica manages to mask her giggle with a cough.

“don’t ask me how or why, but i gotta tell you i’m super into you.” he blurts out “yeah, makes no fuckin’ sense, we barely know each other, no pouge on pouge macking, you ain’t feeling me like that-“

her body is moving before her brain can even comprehend what she’s doing, chipped nail polish framing blond hair as she held his face in her hands and pressed their lips together.

then, her brain kicks in, and veronica jumps back like she’d just been burnt.

“fuck, jay i’m so sorry. i wasn’t thinking,”

seconds pass agonisingly slow and veronica can’t help but think about just how badly she had just fucked up.

but she doesn’t get to overthink for long.

a calloused hand tangled in long, brown hair. the other gripping her waist like it was a lifeline, helping her into his lap as his tongue makes its way into her mouth.

the kiss is messy, it’s desperate. like two people drowning, taking in the other like they were air. hands cling to whatever they can, afraid if they let go it would all be over.

any reservations veronica may have had about ‘the spark’ were discarded, undermined even, this wasn’t a spark, it was fireworks.

but fireworks don’t last forever, and when the sound of john b’s rickety van can be heard drawing closer. the newfound excitement being dulled by the shadow known as a protective older brother, a protective best friend.

by the time the missing pouges pour out of the twinkie, veronica and jj are in much less compromising positions, now sitting beside each other trading menial conversation about the earlier events of the day.

“welcome back to the land of the living,” kiara teases, a yellow vape coming up to her mouth as she took a hit “you two were out cold.”

instinctively, veronica’s hand shot out, wordlessly pleading for a hit of her vape. with a groan, kie handed it over.

veronica lets her head fall back against the hard oak of the tree behind her, relishing the feeling of her first hit of nicotine in two days. she had a vape when she left home, but it died before she even made it to the outer banks and being broke meant she couldn’t even go buy a replacement.

“you could’ve woke us up, y’know” jj defended, trying his hardest to act as if nothing happened, reminding himself to stop staring.

pope scoffs, not missing the longing stares sent the brunettes direction but purposefully ignoring them “we tried, it nearly cost us our lives.”

unamused, john b walks past the rest of the group in silence. when he gets to the door of the chateau he looks over his shoulder and nods for veronica to follow.

the girl is suddenly more attentive, climbing over the human embodiment of a golden retriever and padding her way into the house behind the older of the two.

“does the name redfield mean anything to you?” john b questions, passing a beer from the fridge and getting one for himself “like, the surname.”

veronica is quiet, her finger tracing the rim of the can as she goes through every crevice of her brain in search of any name even remotely close, there’s only one.

“chris redfield.” she answers with a nod, popping the tab of the can and taking a swig “but i don’t get how he’s involved.”

“why not? who is he!?”

“a video game character.”

with a huff of annoyance john b drags a chair across the kitchen to sit beside veronica, unscrewing his compass and placing it down on the table. the name ‘redfield’ is carved into the metal.

“we went back to the boat, found a motel key, whatever.” john b shrugs off the rest of their findings, more invested in whoever this redfield person was. “then i remembered when you showed me that note, the one in the compass. then i found this, figured you would know more than i do.”

veronica gently traced the carved metal, it was definitely their fathers scrawl, she’d memorised it from the note she read over and over and over.

it couldn’t be a coincidence, her fathers note asking her to meet, the matching compasses. now this?

“if i’m going to help you, i need to know..” she trailed off, biting at the edges of her nails as she wondered how to phrase her next question “does this have anything to do with dad dying?”

“he’s not dead.” john b’s voice is louder, stern. then his face softens and he tears his gaze away from the compass and to the floor “sorry, just, i know he’s out there. and this? this is proof.”

“john b, i get it.” the younger routledge speaks slowly, trying not to tread on any toes “you’re not the only one who wants him to be alive, that needs to see him. but i don’t see how this—”

“dad found the royal merchant. four hundred million dollars in gold, and he found it. he’s trying to tell us where to find it.”

veronica sighs, fingers rubbing at her tired eyes as she once again tried to think of any connection to any redfield. when it came to family, she only knew the bare minimum, her fathers name and her mothers maiden name.

what she did know, however, was the royal merchant. as a child her father sent her maps and books on birthdays and christmases without fail, until one day they stopped.

“you’ve got books and stuff, right?” she finally asked, not wanting to get either her or john b’s hopes up. a nagging feeling was telling her their dad was alive, but she knew he wouldn’t just up and abandon his son.

the walls of her fathers study feel like they’re closing in on her, john b let her inside and left her to it. veronicas hand ghosts over the framed maps and dusty books. blueprints of ships with her fathers messy scrawl written randomly around the paper.

there’s pictures of john b littered all over the office, all different life stages, a few feature jj and veronica can’t help but smile at the photo of two little boys holding a fish between them.

on the desk there’s a picture frame, immediately veronica recognises her mother, years younger and a gentle hand placed on her tummy. in the same frame, there’s an ultrasound that veronica almost bypassed as john b, but when she looked at the date it was a long time after he was born.

it was her ultrasound.

it was her in her moms tummy, framed and proudly placed right on her fathers desk.

everything comes back at once. finding the note, and in turn the years worth of letters her mother had hidden from her. the dateline special with john b pleading for information about his father, their father. the fight with her mother, packing a bag in the middle of the night and making her way to the address stored safely inside her compass.

the tears don’t register until they hit the glass of the frame, the last few weeks of pent up anger, sadness and hurt bubbling over from the flame that single photo sparked.

her dad loved her.

for years she’d heard about her absent father, then the absent father that passed when she was a baby. the father who didn’t want the responsibility of a child and ran away once he found out.

but the letters, the compass, this picture? john routledge loved the daughter he was forbidden from seeing, from the second he knew about her he loved her.

and now he was dead.

a sudden wave of anger rushes from her head to her toes, glass shattering when she throws the dusty old frame against the wall with a scream. papers fly and maps fall from the walls as she turns her fathers office into her own personal rage room.

the racket coming from the small room shakes the chateau, so it’s no surprise when the pouges come crashing through the door.

the pouges eyes briefly flash with fear when their eyes land on the destruction caused by the newest arrival, but it’s quickly replaced by a familiar sadness when veronica crumples to the ground, screaming as loud as her lungs would allow for them to get out.

they don’t know what’s wrong, but it doesn’t matter. veronica was now considered a friend, and they gathered that’s what she needed right about now.

jj is the first to enter, drawing closer slowly as if he were being cautious “it’s okay, ronnie.” he mutters softly, dodging shattered glass as he knelt beside her “we’re here, we got you.”

kiara, john b and pope are close behind, wrapping veronica in what could only be described as a group hug until her tears subsided.

taglist!

@ren-ni @marleymarleymarleymarley @miidollaasignnn @rainingcecilias @tanyaherondale @xspideyhollandx @sluterainterlude @loverofmarsss @xoxo-ada @gigistalked @genderlessmenance

#maybanksmusings #jj maybank x oc #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj mayback x reader #jj obx #john b routledge #jj maybank x routledge!reader #john booker routledge #john b outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe outer banks #outerbanks #outer banks #OBX #obx season 4 #rafe obx #obx4

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hup123hup123slapslap · 1 year ago

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So a thought has been kicking around my head for a bit...what if Helio knew exactly what he was signing up for by making Kristen his chosen one?

It has always struck me as odd that when describing Doreen in Helioic heaven, Brennan mentioned her flirting with men and women. It also strikes me as odd that Kristen never got any pushback from Helio about turning her back on him. Even if he was similarly 'out of the picture' like sol was while Arthur was wrecking havoc, Kristen's powers should have faded when she fully committed to not worshipping him. You need to worship a god to get powers, and this is emphasized heavily in the latest episode. Kristen worshipping the vague idea of religion but Definitely Not Helio just doesn't cut it. Sure, taking away a PCs powers wasn't really in the cards in season one, but Brennan works very well and very caringly with what he has to establish as canon.

Kristen was looking for a reason to drop Helio from the get-go. His frat boy appearance and non-answer to a nearly impossible question didn't truly matter at the core of her feelings. She wanted an out from the prison she was trapped in with the Helioic faith, even if she didn't realize it fully. She had tension with her mom and her ideals from the scene one! She wanted to connect with people the church actively shunned. Helio was never the true problem.

Now, gods are shaped by their worshippers. So on some level Helio is shaped by people with shitty ideals. But there's still a foothold of good, especially if there are out and proud gays in heaven. Especially if Kristen Applebees of all people is the chosen one.

When you have worshippers misinterpreting your whole deal, going with Sol's shitty messaging and transferring it onto you and using it for bad things, what can you do as a god? Because you ARE what they say you are. So how can you fight back?

Well. You make your chosen one someone that embodies your true heart. Someone that can actually turn the tides of your worship.

There is an emphasis on tracker reinventing and revitalizing her religion. Changing it for the better. Taking the old and not tossing it out, but making it better.

Isn't that what Kristen struggles with the most? That's what she needs to learn how to do.

Tracker also established that she can worship multiple gods when she helped with Yes?. Kristen doesn't need to settle for one even if she (fingers crossed) brings Kassandra back.

Because the season opened with the slow apocalypse of endless night. Endless daytime would end similarly. There has to be a balance. They are two sides of the same coin. Day and night. The surety of the sun and the doubt of the shadows.

Kristen wants both. And she can fucking have it if she decides to.

Ally once said they appreciate that the enemy is always the church. Organized religion. Kristen is perfect for disorganized religion though. Chill frat boy vibes and anxious doubts and the ultimate message of 'just do your best'.

I think religious trauma is a compelling, close to the heart topic for a lot of people. And some turn away from religion entirely and wash their hands of it. But some people don't. Kristen is a cleric. She can't. She wants a god, she wants answers, and she just can't find them in the established community she was raised in. That doesn't mean the core of her religion was wrong. The church was. So you take the religion and you harness it in a way that means something to you.

Maybe Kristen being desperate enough to invite Helio back into her life is what this has all been leading to.

She can remake a god. She's done it before. Because Kassandra was good at the core. Maybe Helio can be too.

#dimension 20 #kristen applebees #junior year #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #i come from a religious upbringing and am very much not religious as a result #but dang people from a traumatic religious upbringing that maintain belief in the god but not the toxic teachings are very cool and valid

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signanothername · 7 months ago

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hhhhhhh i love your art so much man it's just so rrrrrrrrg words can even describe it 💥💥💥

butt like like genuinely how do you figure out poses and shit that fit who you draw so well likeee

idk me personally i just struggle with that stuff, yk always stuck with the -looking front on with hands in pockets- or the dreaded -peace sign with hand in pocket- fjdjdj

sorry for the yap sesh butttt any advice would be like so cool

also the way you portray killer and nm is like godly just 💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

HDHDHHDHD THANK YOU <333333

And oooh that’s a very valid struggle, cause the thing is, I used to struggle a lot with posing characters in a way that actually satisfied me, going for the stiff front look a lot dhdhhdhdh

But the thing is with art, is that it isn’t just lines on a page y’know? At least, I stopped treating my art as such, every time i draw an artwork i want the artwork to tell who sees it something, I treat every artwork as a story in of itself

Ok imma generally give you what I learned from my art journey so far, i’m gonna start with a more general advice and then get to how I choose poses for certain characters, and imma try to explain the best I can but I can be really bad with wording things so bear with me

Art can be difficult cause different art concepts are interconnected with each other, so sometimes you need to think of so many things just to be able to do something as simple as posing a character

Before we start tho, here are 2 tips:

-everything you know about anatomy? Throw it out the window, no i’m not joking I’m being completely serious

The reason many artists suffer with making dynamic poses is cause they think too much about anatomy, they think the anatomy should look correct and perfect, and no, anatomy is the biggest reason the pose you draw is going to be stiff, you need to forget “correct” anatomy if you want your poses to feel alive and dynamic

- practice gesture/figure art, IM ON MY KNEES I BEG YOU, cause it teaches you to let go of perfect anatomy and actually learn how to draw figures in motion (which is extremely important for fluid and dynamic poses!)

———

With that in mind, here are a few things i keep in mind when posing a character:

1- line of action

You hear these three damn words a lot yet no matter how much you research them you can never find a good explanation for what they mean (me after i researched this bullshit so much shbdhdhhs)

But simply put, think of the action line as the spine in a human, the more you bend it outta shape the more dynamic the pose is going to be

And it’s genuinely so important cause it can make a very simple pose such as a character standing doing nothing much more dynamic when you put line of action in mind

Even a very slight bend in the line can make the pose more natural/dynamic, because an action line dictates the movement of a character

So if you want to avoid a stiff pose? Avoid a straight action line (you gotta make that action line Queer af💅✨✨✨✨)

But here’s a mind fuckery, the tricky thing with action lines is that it’s better if you keep them in mind but not consciously think of them if that makes sense

You gotta understand them and implement them and practice them, but when you draw a character posing a certain way, thinking too much of the action line can actually make it difficult to maintain and in turn, makes your art stiff af too

Like you got to internalize this concept and to keep it in your subconscious rather than actually consciously think about it when you draw your artworks

Ok Anó, how the fuck do i do that? Start with practicing them consciously by actually drawing the action line and then the pose in art studies, and then level yourself up by practicing them by drawing characters posing a certain way WITHOUT putting an action line first, i’m sorry to say there’s no way around it, there are no short cuts

Here’s a helpful visual guide/summary of what i mean by the paragraph above cause words suck

(but sooner or later, what you learned gets burned into your muscle memory, and your hand would start doing all the work without you consciously thinking about it, then congrats!! Action lines are now part of your subconscious)

Ok but does that mean straight lines are bad/should never be used?? NO

I can never emphasize how important straight lines can be

One thing that’s beautiful in art is that there’s no such thing as “bad” or “wrong”, art is subjective, and something that’s perceived as “wrong” by one artist, can be right/ something implemented in another artist’s artstyle that makes it unique

In fact, straight action lines can be great to use depending on what you wish people to take/understand from your art (a simple example: a turn around reference sheet for a character tends to use straight lines, cause in a reference sheet you focus on clarity, and drawing with queer lines can cause that clarity to be thrown out the window)

But I especially love to use straight Action lines with Killer, I sometimes make him stiff as a fucking rock and it’s completely intentional on my part, cause i love to use stiff poses to enhance the uncomfortable/unnatural atmosphere Killer gives, or to further emphasize an already uncomfortable situation

So to summarize, if you wish your poses be more natural/dynamic and to avoid stiff poses, use queer Action lines, but straight lines are also great to use depending on what you want people to understand from your art

———

2- perspective (camera angle)

Variety is key!

What is the perspective you want to focus on? I know this seems like it doesn’t have anything to do with posing a character, but it does, (remember, art concepts are interconnected!) cause the perspective you decide to draw from can also influence the pose you decide to draw or vice versa, and help you make the pose more dynamic

Hell sometimes, perspective can do the poses justice even if they’re literally the most boring stiff poses you’ve ever drawn chchchhcch

Like are you going to draw the character from an upper perspective? Lower? Fish-eye? Third person? First person?

Is the perspective tilted? Is it normal?

What is the perspective you want and why did you choose it? What are you trying to tell the people who see your art?

Here are a few tips when it comes to perspective:

-More dynamic perspectives (upper/lower) are good for artworks that have tension in them, or have some sort of stakes going on (fights, horror, uncomfortable situations)

That of course doesn’t mean they can’t be used to simply make your artwork look cool :D

-choosing how many vanishing points there are (one,two or three points perspective) can also make your art tell a different story depending on the situation you’ve chosen them for

-and most importantly, when you draw a pose, foreshortening is going to happen to the body depending on the perspective!!

But my point is, I make sure i draw in variety, sometimes I draw the character from upper, lower, tilted or even a mix of all of them, all to enhance my poses to look more dynamic/natural

Ok Anó, got it, but what if I don’t care to include a crazy perspective and i want to draw in a normal perspective? Then how do i make my poses more dynamic?

That brings me to my next 2 points

———

3- camera shots

Same as perspective, there has to be variety!

Your art doesn’t always have to be full body, try to draw different shots, draw a headshot, draw closeup shots draw half bodies

If you go for different shots then you’ll be forced to think of different poses to fit such shots :D

———

4-bodies are like little toys, break them

One thing you can do to bring more variety to your poses is to have different body parts facing different directions, not all limbs have to face the same direction >:)

Generally the characters don’t have to face front! Try to mix it up and draw from the side or back

———

5-emotional weight and a story to tell

And this is where i’ll bring my point about treating my art as a story back

A really good way to actually put variety in your poses is to treat any sort of artwork/sketch you make as a story you’re trying to tell

Before you draw a character posing a certain way ask yourself, why is this character posing this way? What are/were they doing before that pose? Are they alone or are they reacting to something/someone?

Is there a point to them posing this way? (It’s ok if there’s no actual point to it! But the poses still would need to tell a story regardless)

Cause if you’re posing them reacting to another character (off screen for example), you pose them in a way that makes sense for their emotions of the other character right? (So if the character has negative feelings towards the other one then it makes more sense to draw them in a defensive stance or a fight or flight pose)

If you’re drawing them all alone then what are they doing alone, are they doing something important or is it their off time? If it’s their off time what are they doing for their off time? Do they like to spend it reading a book for example? What are they reading? Is it a horror novel that makes them scared? If yes then how do they deal with fear? Do they throw the book across the room or do they hide under a blanket?

Cause a pose also holds emotional weight, it shows you what emotions the character is exhibiting, it’s not just the expression of the character that tells you about their emotions, it’s their body language, and body language can be translated through poses

Let’s say they’re doing a peace sign pose for example, why are they doing it? Are they taking a picture with someone they love or are they doing it to annoy someone? Hell maybe they’re being forced to do it, and so they do it half heartedly maybe?

Get what I’m trying to say?

———

And now with all of the above in mind, time to get to the most important thing and the main point of this post

How do I choose poses for certain characters?

6- personality

who am I sketching? Cause each character is unique and each character is gonna act a certain way other characters won’t, and depending on the situation, the poses change too

Understand the character and how they act, try to analyze them and take in their quirks and behaviors, and before you draw a pose for them actually ask yourself, would this character EVER do this pose?

Like you say you fall in the peace sign trap right? Now think about a peace sign pose, but with Nightmare… it doesn’t make sense right? Cause the pose is an absolute striking contrast to Nightmare’s personality, like Nightmare would never do a peace sign till the day he dies, hell i’m sure if he’s forced to choose between death and doing a peace sign he’d choose death (it’s a lot more mercifull than the humiliation he’d feel making a peace sign hcchchch)

See what I’m getting at?

For example, I draw Nightmare with his hands behind his back a lot, but you won’t see me do the same with other characters often, not cause other characters would never put their hands behind their backs, but because it’s a quirk in Nightmare��s character, Nightmare TENDS to do that a lot, he acts so formal and royal like, and so i draw him do it a lot

But here’s the thing, if i draw other characters having their hands behind their backs like i do with Nightmare, i do it in a way that makes sense for them! An example is how i draw Nightmare and Dream with their hands behind their backs :D

But I also keep in mind Nightmare’s character, so whenever I pose him a certain way, I ask myself “would Nightmare actually stand/sit/lie down like that?” If the answer is yes, then I continue, if not then i change it to fit Nightmare

To further explain, I tend to think Nightmare is defensive in nature, so you’d see that I also pose him in a way that reflects that, with his hands crossed in front of his chest for example or generally his hands close to his body, sometimes hunched in on himself, I also think Nightmare is egotistical and self centric, but most importantly, he sees himself as an elegant King, and so I draw him crossing his legs or generally have him sit in such a formal manner or a hand on hip kinda pose etc

So when you draw a pose ask yourself if it fits the personality, mindset, and pattern of behavior for said character!

———

With all that being said, while it’s amazing to be able to do a variety of poses, I think it’s also important to keep in mind that art is supposed to be fun, take your time trying to learn, don’t overwork or frustrate yourself with learning new things, and it’s completely fine to not do poses that have meaning sometimes (do that peace sign to your heart’s content <333) it took me 10 whole years to get where i am today, and compared to many other artists my own progress is extremely slow, and it used to bother me cause I treated art like there was some sort of deadline above my head and that I should learn things in a timely manner (which is absolute bullshit), my point is, take your time with learning poses, even if it takes you years, the important thing is that you will get there eventually <33333

———

Finally, here is one art resource for poses that i think is really good/useful

Keep on creating and hope my endless ramble helps a lil chchchchchch <33333

youtube

#it’s almost 8 am good night chhcchhcchvh #anothers ask #anothers ramble #ano saves asks

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vir-tanadahl · 6 days ago

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How to Detect Text Written by AI

Once my mutuals reminded me not to let fear take over and to get out of my own head, I did. And when I did, I realized something—those who are feeding authors’ fics into these notoriously unreliable AI detectors are actually helping these companies by giving them more data. And most of these companies? They also have their own AI content generation tools, which means they are using the samples of the writing of from those authors’ to improve their own AI generation tools.

So now, I’m not just scared—I’m scared and mad.

Instead of making unproductive call-out posts that don’t actually help the community recognize AI-generated text, let’s do something useful. Let’s talk about ways you can be empowered as a reader to spot AI-generated content.

There is no fool proof method to figure out for sure if a text is AI generated, unless you are literally physically sitting with the writer watching them write like they are a zoo animal.

AI detectors are unreliable and inconsistent. Plus, with how quickly AI-generated content is evolving, these tools are constantly lagging behind, making them outdated and even less effective over time.

Thus far, the best AI detection is YOU. It isn’t easy at first, but the research shows that you can learn how to do this.

One article from the MIT Technology Review (2019) states:

Another study found that untrained humans were able to correctly spot text generated by GPT-3 only at a level consistent with random chance. The good news is that people can be trained to be better at spotting AI-generated text, Ippolito says. She built a game to test how many sentences a computer can generate before a player catches on that it’s not human, and found that people got gradually better over time. “If you look at lots of generative texts and you try to figure out what doesn’t make sense about it, you can get better at this task,” she says. One way is to pick up on implausible statements, like the AI saying it takes 60 minutes to make a cup of coffee.

Fun fact: This article has the journalist submitting her own work to various AI detectors, one of them being Originality.AI, which indicated her writing had a 50-50 split on being AI and human.

One of the problems with these large language models (LLMs), as this article from Capitol Technology University points out, is that it has made AI generated text more complex, making it harder to tell it apart from human writing. But, they share some signs you can look for, as described from their article below:

Inconsistencies and repetition: Occasionally, AI produces nonsensical or odd sentences which can be a clear indicator of AI-generated text. Abrupt shifts in tone, style, or topic can point to AI that is struggling to maintain coherent ideas. Whereas humans often vary structure to create a better flow, repeated phrases or sentence structures can point to AI relying more on memorized patterns. Occasionally, AI produces nonsensical or odd sentences which can be a clear indicator of AI-generated text.

Context and content: If the text seems to be unable to grasp the larger context of the writing, is missing the point entirely, or references specific details without appropriate context, it could be AI.

Does that mean all inconsistencies, excessive repetition, or overly descriptive writing automatically indicate AI-generated text? No, absolutely not. Writing styles vary, and many human writers naturally have quirks like these.

This article from Forbes (2024) identified 5 ways to help identify AI generated content, but I feel these 3 specific ones best apply to fiction and fanfics:

Language Patterns: AI generated text tends to lack emotional subtlety, be overly formal, or use complex words, leading to the sentences sounding stiff and not flowing well. Alternatively, the over use of cliches. Consistency Issues: AI generated text tends to struggle with narrative details, leading to abrupt changes in the story. For example an abrupt change in the description of a setting without explanation. Unusual Language Errors: Sometimes AI generated text uses odd and unusual phrases that feel out of place.

Again, does this automatically mean that writing lacking emotional subtlety or being overly formal is AI-generated? No, not at all. Writing styles vary, and some authors naturally have a more formal tone or a direct approach to storytelling.

If I find a story that I think is AI-generated, what should I do?

1. Pause and Assess – Don't Jump to Conclusions

AI-generated text can sometimes be hard to distinguish from human writing, and many of the so-called “signs” of AI can also be just someone’s writing style or someone being new to writing. Before assuming a fic is AI-generated, take a step back and look at it critically.

Does it actually feel off in a way that suggests AI (such as major consistency errors, repetitive phrases, or nonsensical sentences)?

Or does it just have a different writing style than you’re used to?

2. Don’t Rely on AI Detectors

As shown in multiple studies and real-world examples, AI detectors are not reliable. They are inconsistent, often outdated, and can flag even completely human-written work as AI. Using them as definitive proof, even with the above information does more harm than good.

Also, some of these AI detectors programs also have AI generation programs. You are literally providing more data to these programs to help improve generate AI text.

If an AI detection program does not appear to have a a sister program that generate AI content, ask yourself:

Could this company be mangaged by a parent company that DOES have an AI generated program?

Have you read the terms and conditions to agree to use this AI detection program? If not, have you considered where does the data you have it analyze go? Is it stored and sold to 3rd parties to be used to improve AI generated content programs?

3. Consider Reaching Out to the Author First

If you still have doubts, and you feel it’s appropriate, you could politely reach out to the author. Instead of accusing them, ask about their writing process or how they developed the story. Most human writers love to talk about their inspiration, research, and creative choices.

4. Avoid Public Call-Outs

Unless you have strong, irrefutable proof (which is very hard to get), publicly accusing someone of using AI can do serious harm—both to the writer and to the community as a whole. False accusations drive real writers away from sharing their work.

5. If You’re Concerned About AI in Creative Spaces, Advocate for Constructive Discussions

Instead of call-outs and AI detectors, push for conversations on how to navigate AI in fandoms and creative writing spaces in a way that doesn’t rely on fear or false accusations. Encourage transparency, but also respect that writers shouldn’t have to prove their humanity just to share their work.

Thank you and I will now go back to playing in my little section of the dragon age sandbox where I make Solas kiss Lavellan.

#vir talks #anti ai #dragon age #fandom critical #it is almost 1am and i should be asleep but instead i'm being impulsive #i am now returning back to my DA content

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theweasleytwinsownmyjuicyass · 1 year ago

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Yogurt | L.N.

Lando Norris x reader

Summary: what's is the best way to show your crush you like him if not by eating yogurt together?

Warnings: fluff/comedy<3

Word count: ~1,8K

“Hey Lan, look what I got!” you excitedly waved the spoon around, a sparkle in your eye.

A smile instantly found a place on Lando’s face, hearing your voice just did that to him these days. He turned to face you but soon enough the smile fell and he let out a scream inside. NO GOD NO!

There you stood before him, so incredibly excited and happy with a carton of yogurt in your hand and Lando knew that he couldn’t run away now, you’ve caught him once again.

“Sadly there was only one left, but we can share!” you sat next to him on the soft sofa overlooking the track.

Gosh you lived for these little moments between you two, because it was literally the only time you two could be together uninterrupted for at least a while and talk about everything and anything.

“Oh that’s great…” Lando tried to feign excitement but he didn’t know how much longer he could keep this up…

As the two of you sat there sharing the small carton of yogurt you couldn’t not tell him all about the new book you’ve read. The yogurt was long gone, but you still kept going, describing every single character and your favourite scenes to Lando who was listening intently.

“And then he totally lost it! Like he’s been losing it since the start, but this was the total culmination where we got to see just how messed up he actually is. He was literally shooting into hallucinations of her! Dude really got one heartbreak and turned completely ins-” your rant was cut short as Lando leaped out of his seat and hurried away and out of the cafeteria.

You sat there now in complete stillness, confused as to what made him act out in such a way. What worried you most was that he always seemed to run off after your little chats. You weren’t going to lie to yourself, but that kind of hurt…

The first time it happened you were absolutely heartbroken. Like how could you not be! The guy you have a crush on running away from you! But after that Lando apologised to you and everything was back to normal. Up until he did that again and again… and again. Yes he’d apologise after every single time, but it was starting to drive you nuts!

“Awesome,” you let out an expiated sign and leave the cafeteria once again with your head hung low.

The next time you see Lando is about an hour later at practise and make yourself a mental note to ignore him, since you could no longer take his weird behaviour and fake apologies.

You’re just about to walk out of the garage when you heard a thud of something or rather someone falling to the floor and a group of shocked intakes of breath echoed around the place.

“Lando!” air was knocked out of your chest the moment you saw him lying on the floor, face a pale white and glistening with sweat.

You kneeled next to him with a few of his team members, “Help me put him on the couch,” your hands were trembling as you assisted the older man to pick Lando up. Your hands were braced under his head holding it softly, afraid to harm him in any way.

“Lando? Lando wake up,” you caressed his forehead lightly, wiping away the curls that were starting to stick to his damp skin.

It didn’t take long before his eyes fluttered open and connected with your gaze.

“Lando, are you okay?” concern was etched into your features, eyebrows furrowed, soft hands still raking through his hair.

“I’m fine, don’t worry,” he sat up patting your hand, clearly not helping your mind ease.

“You look pale Lan, are you sure?” you pushed seriously concerned for his wellbeing.

“Yeah, trust me, it happens sometimes, nothing to worry about” he gives you a quick smile before stumbling off to his room.

Pure confusion of what just happened was etched into your features. What the hell is up with this guy?!

Even if you felt confused by his actions you still felt bad that he fainted.

Why does a person faint? Dehydration? Not eating enough? That sounds like something that could have happened to Lando since he’s always too preoccupied with doing anything else but actually eating his meals or getting enough water until it was too late.

You run to the convenience store that’s close to the track and buy a few packets of yogurt, some flavourless, some with strawberries. You think he’ll like that since one time he talked for an hour about a strawberry tart he had in London.

Your hands softly knock on his door before you enter.

“Hey, I got you some yogurt, thought it might pick up your mood,” you offer him the three yogurt packets and a complementary spoon from the hospitality.

”Oh! That’s … great actually, exactly what I needed right now,” he grabs the yogurt out of your arms and thanks you before eating spoonful’s of it. You smile watching him go through two packets so eagerly. ‘Poor boy was so hungry’ you think.

On the other hand Lando is doing everything in his power to keep the damn yogurt down his throat, but even the smell was now irritating his whole being.

But he couldn’t just not eat it. You got it for him, just for him. And god he knew how much he was messing up these past few weeks he didn’t want to make another stupid move that will make sure he never sees you closer than 10 feet away from him.

‘You got this Lando, just few more spoons and you make the girl happy. You got this man’ he repeated that as his mantra until his body betrayed him. Turns out no, he did not ‘got this’.

You watched with impending horror as Lando launched himself out of the chair and into the bathroom before an array of sounds followed as he emptied his insides into the toilet.

You stood behind the door not knowing what to do but extremely concerned about the boy’s condition.

“Lan?”

“Please don’t come in here Y/n,” his voice was tainted with desperation and as much as worry spurred you to see him you also had understanding for the boy and sat yourself back down on the sofa.

At that time Oscar came into the room.

“Oh Y/n, have you seen Lando? I’ve been looking all over for him, it’s like he disappeared,” the boy sat next to you on the sofa.

“He’s in there,” you pointed at the closed bathroom door with an apologetic expression and Oscar nodded his head silently understanding more about the situation than he let on.

It was only a few minutes later that Lando emerged from the bathroom smelling of fresh toothpaste and with red blotches covering his damp face.

“Lan? Are you sure you okey? Seems like you’ve caught some kind of tummy bug,” your eyebrows pulled together as you assessed the teary eyed boy standing before you.

Lando only sat down at his table and opened the water bottle before taking a sip and letting out a sign.

Oscar was done with the situation after having been in it for all of 2 minutes and decided to push his friend in the right direction for once.

“Lando, for the love of God, please tell her!“ Oscar sounded expiated as he stood from the sofa in frustration, something that looked so foreign on the usually silent boy.

“Tell me what?” your eyes danced between the two boys who now held intense eye contact with each other.

“He’s lactose intolerant for God’s sake!” Oscar was the one to break the silent conversation between the two boys.

“Nooooo!” Lando screeched out at the same time as Oscar admitted his secret to you.

“Oh my god Lando! Why didn’t you tell me! You’ve been getting sick and it’s all my fault!” you clawed at your face hot with embarrassment. Now it all made sense why he’d hurry away from you after your little yogurt dates. Gosh how did you not notice it?!

“Because I like you! And you’d always offer me some of it and I just couldn’t say no because I thought you’d take it the wrong way…” Lando’s gaze was stuck to the floor and his shoulders slumped in defeat, not only did he already feel a fool he also admitted his feelings to you and was getting ready for your sweet rejection.

“Gosh I thought I was the one being slick always offering you some yogurt, just to show that I like you, but then you’d run off and I just thought that the yogurt was all we had.” Your hand raked through your hair anxiously. Yes Lando was the first one to admit his feelings but that did not make it easier for you to say as doubts still covered you.

“You thought that I was being with you just for the yogurt?” Lando stepped closer and smoothed his hand over your hair, putting the strands back into place with a soft touch.

“It sounds stupid I know, but yeah…” your eyes lifted to connect with his adoring eyes. His sweet gaze calmed your heart and you leaned into his touch, reassured by his presence.

“Well good thing you now know that it has nothing to do with the yogurt,” the room erupted in your harmonious chuckles before his lips softy landed on your forehead, once again claiming his affection towards you.

The moment was so personal that neither of you noticed when Oscar silently slipped out of the room leaving it just for the two of you, but you were none the less thankful for his kind understanding.

Later that night you and Lando were watching movies in his apartment, cuddled up on the huge foamy sofa before the TV. Your hand was making soft circles on his tummy, rubbing away the pain.

There was only a faint sound of the movie that engulfed the room until you spoke up with a teasing smile.

“I still can’t believe you were doing that to yourself just because you liked me.”

Lando lifted his face from your chest so he could face you before he answered.

“What’s a little sickness if I get to see you smile?”

#lando norris #lando norris fluff #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris x reader fluff #lando norris x reader imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x y/n #formula 1 imagine #mclaren formula 1 #mclaren #ln4 x reader #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 fluff

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kittykattropicanna · 1 year ago

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it's 2 am and i should sleep but i just read your prison penpal!ghost now it's rotting my brain!!!! ><

reader would so try to send him gifts if they're allowed. special holidays aren't miserable for him anymore as he would be accompanied by reader's sweet little presents!!!

Sleeps for the weak baby, sleep when you’re dead ;)

Of course you're going to look after your man, he does so much for you, the least you can do is send him some money to treat himself!!! maybe a gift or two you dirty girl :3

I know I promised to upload this last night after work but I was sleepy. IM SORRY PLEASE FORGIVE ME

TW: edging, Si fucks himself with your dirty panties, smut, masterbation (Reader and Simon) its just fucking disgusting and dirty, but also kinda sweet <3

PrisonPenPal!Simon masterlist

Regular masterlist

Absolutely, holy shit. After your first phone call, you’re his, he makes that so unbelievably clear through his next letters. :)))

Telling you how much he craves you, how you’re the only thing on his mind, describing in intimate detail how his gonna touch you, kiss you, fuck you :((((

His so fucking desperate for you, to the point he actually gets enraged knowing he can’t touch you. Just the thought of you being on the other side of the wall makes his skin crawl, you’re right there, only thick cement dividing him from you :((

Its even worse knowing that he can’t do anything about it >:(

Si’s a problem solver, he prides himself on being able to weasel his way out of practically any situation without a problem, if that’s reducing his sentence down to basically nothing or getting away with his little late night phone calls with you. He always finds a way to make it work, but for the first time ever, he can’t fix this, his stuck here. No exceptions, no sweet talking to get what he wants, no amount of calculated manipulation could get him out of this situation, and it makes him go absolutely mad.

At this point he has a year left of his sentence, his so fucking close to being let back into society, so close to finally being with you :(((

Letting his emotions (and dick) cloud his judgment, driving him to think about making stupid decisions such as an attempted jail break would be absolutely the worst idea of his entire life.

Ohhhhh, but its so tempting :(

But it would just put more time between you and him, as much as he wanted you now, he knew it was only going to rip him away from you again in the long run :/

And that’s if his even successful, one night with you would mean the world to him, but it wasn't worth being thrown back in jail, only separating the two of you for longer :(

He just needed to sit tight, let the days roll on and try not to think about your soft moans through the shitty speaker of the prison phone. :(((

He absolutely asked you to be official after speaking to you for the first time. It drives him crazy knowing when guys try and hit on you at the bar, you smile brightly and tell them that you're his, his to keep.

One of the guards asked him what’s the first thing his going to do when he gets out, with a dopey smile he chuckles a little

“See ma’ missus mate” his so fucking cute, his actually so obsessed with you, so proud that you’re his ;))))

Of course the other inmates wouldn’t know, and technically he most definitely shouldn’t of told a guard, news spreads, but he couldn’t help it, it slipped out, and you know what, he was fucking proud of it :)))

You 100% would send him money and gifts, Si makes a little money, about £35 a week either cleaning, laundry duties, basic maintenance, basically anything the job program can offer him.

The only issue being when he first signed up, he made sure that all his money was payed into Price’s bank account. He didn’t want to risk using it, the whole reason he started the work program was because he wanted to try and set himself up once he got out, at least have some type of savings waiting for him on the other side. Every now and then he regrets it, but he knows its for the best :/

Learning that Si was so strict with his money that he didn’t treat himself to anything didn’t sit well with you….and its not like you’re struggling financially, you work a good job and your daddy is always willing to send money if you ever needed it!!!!

A hundred odd pounds a month isn’t going to leave any sort of dint in your bank account, so of course your going to send Si some money to treat himself!!! You’re such a sweet, sweet girl :(((, his sweet, sweet girl.

You start sending the maximum amount each month which comes out to about £150, its the least you can do!! His your boyfriend! he might be a felon, a little perverted and rough around the edges, but to you, his perfect :)))

His so grateful as well :(( treating himself to snacks :((( chocolate bars, skittles and gummy’s, buying himself a book or two, replacing his flat, stained pillow and ratted blankets, getting himself some actually nice soap and a new toothbrush, buying clothes that actually fit him!!

His muscles have grown so much since being locked up :3 there’s nothing else to do besides lift weights, work and sit around :((((

“Sweetheart, I want ya’ to know, the second I get out of here, imma treat you real nice, give ya’ everything I can, look after ya’, protect ya’”

and

“The minute I get ya’ home, its all about you, yeah? Imma lay ya’ down and eat ya’ like a starved man, overstimulate that little cunt till ya’ beggin’ me to stop, fuck ya’ so deep and hard that you’ll forget ya’ fuckin’ name, whatever ya’ want darlin’ its all yours, been lookin’ after me so well….. imma show ya’ how much I appreciate it, as ya’ can probably tell, i’m more a man of action, poetry an’t ma style baby ;)”

Definitely learns origami from other inmates, makes little paper swans and hearts for you, the paper always being a little stained from his dirty fingers, obvious crease marks showing his folded it the wrong way and had to reattempt :))))

God he knows how to treat a women :33333

But what I really want to get into are the gifts you send him…..;)

As I established in my last fics about you sending things to Si, you absolutely send him innocent gifts.

Photos, one of your favourite gold necklaces, an oversized tee that smells like your perfume…. Cute little personal things so he can have a piece of you, nothing crazy :3

I feel like you were reading a spicy romance book. It mentioned the main character stealing his lovers used panties out of her dirty laundry basket, very quickly and idea clicked in your brain :((((

You wanted it to be a surprise for him :(((( you didn’t mention it to him in your letters, only telling him your working on a little something that’s crafted just for him ;))

Waking up in the morning you make sure to fuck yourself with your fingers :((

Covering your panties with your juices, making sure their absolutely soaked in your cum :((

Rubbing your thighs together while you’re at work, soaking through your panties with your arousal :((( thinking about Si eating your pussy just like he promised while in important meetings, loosing focus…. your boss pulling you aside and asking if you’re okay :((

Scrambling to find an answer to explain your distracted behaviour and flushed cheeks >:(

He ends up sending you home because you’re distracting everyone with your aloofness :(( putting the rest of your team behind because you're a selfish girl with a dirty mind >:( can’t even focus in your workplace because Si’s dirty words have taken over every aspect of your thoughts >:(

At the end of the day your panties are ruined with your slick, soaked all the way through and smelling of your orgasm just like you planned ;))

And when Si received your thong obviously used??? :000000 he let out a low grunt....

Just the idea that you did this for him, fully confirming in his mind that you wanted him, craved him just as much as he craved you made something animalistic set off in his mind….

Because he received your package in the middle of the day, he couldn’t hide and tend to himself like normal >:((((((

He needed you now, he needed to fuck his cock NOW, not wait till his cell mates were asleep, his heavy balls ached and he knew if he didn’t relieve himself soon, his blue balls would become unbearable >:(((( aching and hurting with each step, uncomfortable and frustrated :(

Purposely being a dick and coursing havoc with his inmates so he can be locked up for his disruptive and disrespectful behaviour ;)))))

A shit eating grin when his in handcuffs being walked to his cell, knowing your panties are tucked into his boxers ;))))) his won yet again ;)

Like I’ve said before, and I’ll say it again, he ALWAYS gets what he wants :)))

The second his cell locks his ripping his hard, leaky cock out and wrapping your used panties around himself :((((

Pumping his fat dick, the friction of the fabric making it that much more satisfying :((((

Closing his eyes and imagining you walking around all day, turned on and flustered for him >:((((( the idea of you restricting yourself from fucking other men because you're his, knowing all you want is to be filled with dick, have the feeling of a real cock fucking you, not your cold, rubber dildo >:(

His precum mixing with your juices only turns him on more, knowing that this is the closest he’ll get to fucking your cunt for now :((

As his big hands slowly pump his dick, wanting to savour the moment, he lets out animalistic grunts, slowly speeding up and then slowing his pace, he edges himself almost whimpering when he refrains from his release yet again :(((

Something about holding back satisfies him, his training himself for you, getting ready for when he fucks you for the first time, wanting to hold out long enough that he can rip orgasm after orgasm out of you, forming a white rim of your cum around the base of his cock :(((

Grunted whispers of your name falling from his lips as he tries to hold back yet again, legs twitching and face getting hot as uncontrollable ropes of cum finally release from his vainy cock :(((

His never cum that much in his life, your panties damp with his semen, dick so sensitive that even the feeling of the fabric from his boxes makes him flinch >:(((

You’re such a good girl, always knowing how to please him, feels like you know him inside and out already ;)

You just wait until he gets his hands on you sweet girl ;)))

Y'all are so fucking obsessed with each other I CAN'T

PrisonPenPal!Simon is open for requests so feel free to send them throughhhhh, add to the AU, ask me expand on certain topics, whatever floats your boat >:)

!Disclaimer! - Above is NSFW content - MDNI - If you follow my blog without your age in your bio, you will be blocked - If you are under the age of 18, you are not welcome here, otherwise, enjoy :)

Cat divider sourced by @positively-mine from Pinterest - Pink line divider by @eloquentreverie - MDNI divider by @cafekitsune

Basic blog housekeeping - fic requests guidelines, boundaries and my rules for minors

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kitchenisking · 7 months ago

Text

August Fic Rec

My loves, just a quick reminder that all the rec are tagged at the bottom for easy access to the rest of my recs. and lets not forget to send love to our writers with comments and kudos❤️

to be with those I like by sheafrotherdon - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 9,323, sterek)

It's Deaton who tells Derek that Stiles is back in town, a broken marriage behind him, his daughter in tow.

Fixer Upper by Arsenic - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 39,169, sterek)

After the events of 5a, Stiles is estranged from Scott--and by association, the pack. Derek is off finding himself, or, at least, Germany and some other places. There's a lot of texting and post cards and then Derek comes back to find Stiles missing. Worse, nobody seems to remember Stiles existing.

"Here's to the best and most unconventional decision ever made in Vegas." byEvanesDust - (Rating: T, Words: 917, sterek)

The last thing Stiles expected when he woke up was to be in bed with Derek. Actually, scratch that. The last thing Stiles expected when he woke up was to be married.

Howl Ya' Doin' ? by wanderingeyre - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 14,196, sterek)

The first few posts of “Howl Ya Doin’?” were just Stiles talking about being a human in a werewolf pack. Then Derek accidentally walked in on Stiles live streaming and Stiles pulled him into an impromptu Q&A about being a born wolf. That video went viral, much to Derek’s horror and Stiles’s barely concealed glee.

Heart's on Fire by julietangel - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 6,696, sterek)

Stiles should have known it was him, but he blames the games for distracting him from his soulmate.

Torn Apart and Set Anew by Hedwig221b - (Rating: Mature, Words: 18,681, sterek)

“Someone’s here,” Stiles whispered, feeling weirdly numb.

The metal latch clicked. With ice filling his lungs and his fingers shaking terribly, Stiles swiveled his head in the direction of a window and froze for a beat of a second.

There was a face behind the glass.

Forgettable and plain, but at the same time familiar face.

Hello by nightlight9 - (Rating: T, Words: 9,725, sterek)

Stiles calls Derek's cellphone years after having no contact, leaving voicemails for the werewolf though there is never a reply. Then when the number becomes disconnected, Stiles has to venture back to the home that they had build together before he left in order to find out what has happened to the man he loved. The answer is not what he expects, and it makes him evaluate what he left behind.

Deputized by WhoNatural - (Rating: T, Words: 2,423, sterek)

dep·u·tize verb temporarily act or speak as a deputy. synonyms: stand in for, sit in for, fill in for, cover for, substitute for, replace

”"He’s too old for you," Derek grunts, and, shit - Stiles looks indignant.

I Trust You by buckysharons - (Rating: Mature, Words: 1,052, sterek)

stiles let’s derek feed off of him for the first time

Neon Flashing Signs by Karla_Kattz - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 13,799, sterek)

“I don’t know, it’s just…” Derek trails off. “Me being in a room full of alphas?” Stiles tries to help out with words. “Yeah, but… but not only?” Derek sighs. Stiles waits patiently for his boyfriend to gather his thoughts. “You know, I’m always protective of you, but my wolf, it’s never been that anxious. I can’t describe it better.” “We aren’t in a life or death situation. It’s just a Convention. I’ve met other alphas before, plenty of them and sure, I haven’t met them all at once, but still. Plus there are other omegas too,” he tries to resonate. “And I can look after myself. I’m not a damsel in distress.” Seriously, Stiles is a smart omega, raised by a Sheriff. He’s a master of small talk. What can possibly happen, right?

——— Where the pack attends a Werewolf Convention and nothing of what happens was on Stiles‘ bingo card.

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #fanfiction #stiles x derek #kitcheniskingficrecs

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beef-brisket · 5 months ago

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Devil and the Priest!au

(Feel free to change the name- it's 1am where I am, so my brain is starting to fry lol)

@things-arent-what-they-seem66 @fanofstuff01

---

Lucifer drove through the country side, he's been behind the wheel for nearly 5 hours. He didn't realize how much of a drive getting to this monastery. He knew it was remote but this is getting ridiculous- he should have brought snacks.

He glanced out his window every now and then to take in the scenery. He's currently driving past a large body of water, where he spotted a small island. He wishes he was over there, with no worries or expectations. With no one but himself. The Vatican has been on his ass lately about making this trip. Apparently, there was something 'dark- and 'unsettling' at this monastery. If any of the priests he knew were anything to go by, it was probably just them. He swore they refused to die, they had more wrinkles than brain cells.

Lucifer turned his radio up, some type of rock song was one, it was a big no no to be listening to music like this, it's his car. Driver picks the music, and the Vatican shuts their cake hole.

Finally, as the sun was setting, Lucifer arrived at the monastery. The large stone building loomed over him, maybe the Vatican was right, this place was unsettling. He felt like he was being watched, the multiple colours in the sky masking how decrepit this place actually is. Pulling out a brochure from his pocket, Lucifer couldn't help but smirk, they're really trying to market this place like it's a holiday retreat.

Lucifer: "Welcome to the Hazbin. Find not only sanctuary and enlightenment but also beaches and the best crab around!" ...right, definitely staying away from the crab then...

After an exhausted sign, Lucifer licked his car and picked up his bags. Making his way towards the large wooden doors, Lucifer couldn't help but dread the next two or three hours, all he wanted was to hop into bed and close the world off foe a few hours but he'd probably have to take the whole tour and- ew- meeting people.

He shuddered at the thought.

Lucifer: I wonder if I could convince them to leave the formalities till tomorrow...

Lucifer gripped a huge, iron door knocker and banged it three times. He knew this could take a while so he prepared to get comfortable- until the door was pulled open.

Priest: Hello! And welcome to the Hazbin! How can I assist you this fine evening!

Lucifer: uh- yeah- hi, my name Luicfer, I've been told to come here by the Vatican- I've been told you're expecting me...?

Priest: hm... Lucifer...

The man flicked through a small book, humming every so often. What's the point in having glasses if you still can't read a damn book.

Lucifer: look man- sir- it's been a long drive, I'd really like to just get to sleep-

Priest: ah! Yes! Here you are, Lucifer! Please, come right in! We've been expecting you for hours, your overseer said you would be here this morning- but better late than never I suppose!

The man moved aside to let Lucifer in. He really didn't like this guy, but that's not new, priest are pretty... eccentric.

The man shit the door behind him, using at least six locks to secure it.

Priest: pardon my manners, Lucifer! My name is Alastor- Father Alastor. And I'll be your superior while you're here

Ah, great. He has to answer to this... lovely man. Forcing a smile, Lucifer did what he did best: lie.

Lucifer: that's very exciting Father Alastor, look forward to working with you and getting to know this place more personally!

Alastor: oh, I could imagine! I'm sure you've heard a lot about me! I've been in charge of five other monasteries before this one! All saw a raise in volunteers and profits.

Lucifer: that's fantastic, Father. It's a real honor to be working on this project with you-

Alastor: "project", yes, that's one word to describe it.

Alastor lead Lucifer down a long hall, hebcouldbt believe how quiet it was. He was told there were at least 60-70 nuns and other workers here but it just seemed abandoned.

Thankfully, Alastor showed Lucifer to his room, it was large with a queen bed in the middle. It didn't have much furniture, just a set of draws and a desk out looking the garden. It was dead and overgrown, but the air was fresh, he'll have to start taking up writing again.

Alastor: well! Lucifer, it is a real pleasure to have you here! Tomorrow I'll show you around and I introduce you to some of the other occupants here- there are quite a few so I do expect you to introduce yourself to some of them in your own time.

Lucifer dumped his bags on his bed, and turned to face Alastor.

Lucifer: that understandable. Thank you for this Alastor, I'll see you in the morning-

Alastor: bright and early Mr Lucifer. I like to get the day started as the break of dawn

Of course he does.

Lucifer: great! I better get some sleep then

Alastor: yes, you should. Goodnight Lucifer

Finally, Lucifer was alone. Or at least he hoped. He still hasn't shaking that feeling from earlier. Except this time, he was certain nothing was watching him, Alastor seemed to be the only other living thing here. And that's giving the bastard a lot of credit. Not once did he stop smiling- Lucifer already wants to wipe that look off his face.

All Lucifer wanted to do was sleep, so he got comfortable and started to drift off.

#adamsapple #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #priest au

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thebibliosphere · 8 months ago

Note

Hello there - I had a question which I think(?) you might be able to help with. Or at least point me in the direction of more information.

I have a few chronic illnesses and disabilities and as such there's many gremlins I deal with. One thing that crops up a lot are comorbidities between my conditions.

I'm trying to be more vigilant with regards to my health - as a child there were many, many missed opportunities to get my symptoms seen to by a doctor (all squandered due to my parents nor believing me about my symptoms).

Anyway, I wanted to ask about MCAS and if you know it's possible to have it but not realise it?

I've had a few incidents like this, but mostly forgot them or ignored them. But yesterday I ate some basil from my windowsill plant and I had what can only be described as an allergic reaction. I'm not allergic to any foods (as far as I know) but I've eaten from this exact plant before and been fine. I have mint growing next to it which I also ate and it caused the same reaction. Again, I've eaten from this exact plant before. It was like my mouth was burning or stinging and the leaves felt, spicy? In my mouth. I'm not sure how to describe it but I hope you know what I mean. Today I ate from the exact same plants and had no reaction whatsoever.

I've definitely had similar things happen before- but events like yesterday are few and far between. But utterly confounding when they do happen. I have urticaria (diagnosed since age 18) which I suspect is relevant, somehow.

I'm starting to wonder if a lot of my symptoms I've written off have actually been MCAS. But I'm not sure. Do you have any advice around talking to a doctor about this or if I have a leg to stand on so to speak?

Sending my best wishes!

Hey friend, sorry to hear you've been dealing with some neglect.

And considering MCAS was only really recognized as a condition in the last 15 years, it's absolutely possible to have it and not know until symptoms get worse. I was experiencing anaphylactoid reactions my whole childhood, but because I tested negative on IgE tests (I still do), it was dismissed as anxiety right up until I hit my 30s and I experienced my first episode of full-blown idiopathic anaphylaxis.

(Note: anaphylaxis is not a requirement for diagnosis, and not everyone experiences it.)

You should discuss your inconsistent allergies with your doctor or allergist. I would also advise pursuing allergen testing, as new allergens can develop at any time, even if you don't have mast cell instability.

If you suspect some form of mast cell instability may be the root cause of your issues, I'd suggest checking out The Mast Cell Disease Society. (Their website is in the process of being updated, still. But they have good resources there.)

Their signs and symptoms (and triggers) page has recently been updated and is fairly concise:

If any of that rings a bell, it might be worth bringing up with your allergist, but fair warning, not everyone is receptive to the idea of mast cell disorders outside of mastocytosis. (And even then some doctors gaslight their patients to hell and back.)

If you do find yourself in this situation, try joining a couple of support groups to see if there are any MCAS aware doctors in your area, or alternatively, try the TMS physician finder tool:

Sorry if it seems like I'm just throwing a lot of links at you, but they are very useful links and I'm not at my best right now to explain things.

I hope this is helpful and if I missed something, please let me know.

I wish you luck in remedying your chronic health issues <3

#chronic health tag #MCAS #sorry if I sound like a robot #I'm conserving spoons

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polarisine · 1 month ago

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HEAVEN-SENT

₊˚⊹ ᰔ boku no hero academia. bakugo katsuki x reader ₊˚⊹ ᰔ weary bones and gentle tones are words people wouldn’t use to describe bakugou katsuki. but you’re fortunate to see the best and worst of him, even at a distance. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ navi. ask. ۶ৎ ao3.

Neck-deep in stacks of papers and blue light radiation, you furiously type away your half-term paper like a madman.

It’s the weekend. During the holiday season.

You could’ve been somewhere in your hometown, frolicking with your neighbor’s cows, or helping around your grandpa’s greenhouse and harvest whatever crop seemed to be strong enough to withstand the winter cold.

Anything. Anything that would take you away from your university that’s eating you alive.

There’s no scrutinizing eye when you copy-pasted your work on a plagiarism application. You’re an academic achiever, a head-held-high perfectionist, but with the heavy weight that this term paper danced on your aching shoulders, at this point you honestly do not give a single fuck about your grammar.

And just as you were about to cackle after pressing the send button, there’s a distinct jingle of keys that signals the arrival of an unwelcome presence.

But the footfalls at the doorway are all too familiar, and you are more concerned about the fact that he’s here, and not the paper you just submitted thirty seconds before the deadline.

There are faint, but low profanities thrown about for a couple more seconds. You made sure the system registered your work, before closing your laptop and stretching with a huff.

A few joints pop on your shoulders, and you call out warmly, “Katsuki?”

He responds in a way—a low grunt, maybe from struggling to remove his boots or push off his gauntlets. Ever since the war has ended, Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight has cooled off significantly…though, you were probably the only one to notice it.

His quipped responses of single-toned noises are often a telltale sign of displeasure or hurt, and you don’t hesitate to stand on your feet to meet him by the apartment’s doorway, just as he was kicking off his boots.

Still clad in his hero costume, you can faintly smell a hint of smoke and caramel on him.

“Sorry,” You murmur sheepishly, keeping a respectable distance. “I just finished my deadlines, so dinner won’t be ready in a while.”

“S’fine.” He mumbles, quiet as the gauntlets click before completely sliding off his arms. “I don’t mind having leftovers.”

“About that…” It took small tentative steps closer to him before you could actually outstretch your hand to hold one of his gauntlets for him. “I ate them all this afternoon. They were starting to smell suspicious.”

He scoffs, but there’s finally a small tug on the corner of his lips that offers some semblance of humor. “It already smells like shit and you ate it still?”

You shrug your shoulders as you offer him a smile. “I was really hungry.”

“Don’t come crying to me if you have stomach problems.”

“I won’t.” A warm chuckle bubbles from your throat as you gaze at him, before it softens to something more neutral.

For the first time in three days, Bakugo finally looks you in the eyes. You note the hints of exhaustion in his irises and the subtle droop on his shoulders. There’s no mistaking the faint bruise flowering against his jaw, and that elicits a frown of concern from you.

As if avoiding your scrutinizing gaze, he then turns to his things by the doorway, slinging his backpack on before taking one of the gauntlets from you.

Your lips purse for a moment, unsure whether to bring the matter up, or to spare him some privacy in your humble home.

But the slight limp on his leg as he pushes past you makes you a little bit braver, and you wrap your fingers around his arm.

“I’ll pop the dinner on the stove.” You say gently as you catch his eyes. “Go shower and come to the couch.”

“M’fine.” He utters gruffly. “This is nothing.”

“Please?”

There’s a pair of red orbs scanning you quietly. Somehow, it seems there’s no more fight left in him, because he simply huffs. “Whatever.”

Instead of his usual ten minutes in the shower, it takes him about a good half hour before you could actually hear the bathroom door opening.

You grab the first aid kit from the cupboard, and just as you head to the couch, you let out a low breath.

The pro hero is oddly silent, settled on the plush surface with half his body exposed to the cool air. But it’s not his toned abs nor imposing pecs that surprised you, you’re used to them after all.

It’s the sight of purple bruises, fresh lacerations, and deep gashes that scares you. There’s even a deep cut that is superimposed on the scars he had back in highschool.

You opt to sit beside him, your eyebrows in a deep furrow as you regard him.

“Shit, Kats. What the hell happened?”

“You didn’t see the news?” He huffs.

“No? I’m a university slave. I’ve got no time for the outside world.”

Bakugo scoffs, and suddenly he feels normal again. “That’s why you’ve turned our apartment into your shitty cave. There was a villain, alright?”

You start with gentle dabs of antiseptic and ointment around his torso, your eyes focused.

“Of course, it’s a villain. It’s either that or a truck hit you.” You grumble. “You’re feeling like shit and you look like one too.”

“Fuck you. It was a high-class one, alright? Even Half-and-Half and Shitty Hair didn’t come out unscathed.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me that you’re going on an important call?” You look up to catch his molten stare.

“What could you have done?” He rolls his eyes. “You might as well makeout with your laptop screen this morning. You wouldn’t want another stress on your plate.”

You frown, realizing he was right. “I know. But still. All of these wounds are too much. You could have gotten yourself checked in the hospital–”

“Look.” His warm hand wraps around your wrist, stopping you from doing much else. It’s a hot touch. A reminder that he’s still alive despite what had happened.

“Just–be quiet. I came home to you in one piece, didn’t I? And you got that paper submitted” He murmurs, eyes drooping closed as he leans in and presses his nose against your cheek. “Stop nagging me.”

His words sent your heart to your throat, and it also sucked out all the fight left in you.

“But still…” You mumble, defeated as you let him tuck his head on your shoulders. “You’re infuriating. Coming home looking like crap then cuddling me when you’ve never even taken me out on a date yet.”

There’s a throaty snort from his lips as he kisses your cheek.

“Some dumbass told me they’re unavailable this semester.”

You grumble, tilting your head to the side to feel more of him. “Shut up.”

He pulls away slightly, just to look at you with soft eyes. “How about this Saturday?”

“Hm?”

“This weekend. Let me take you out.” He brushes his knuckle against our cheekbone ever-so-slightly.

“With a gun, preferably.”

“Fuckass. I meant that new restaurant you’ve been dying to try.”

You laugh, the tension easing from your shoulders as he presses a kiss to your mouth–sure and steady. Just like he always is at any given time of the day.

“Okay.” You whisper against his lips.

With the first aid kit long forgotten, you tentatively wrap your arms around his neck.

His palm splays over your back, and just as you feel yourself hit the surface of the couch, his mouth halts its mold on your lips.

Bakugo pulls away just slightly, and it takes every fiber of your being not to chase his mouth with yours. ”Is… is that smoke I smell?”

“Oh, shit! The stove!”

#bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki x reader #bnha fluff #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #polaris.piece #banner: koiwa station

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