#i may or may not have been high while doing this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hqbaby · 2 days

Text

thirteen — respectfully, fuck off

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

previous — masterlist — next

word count. 2.4k content. profanity, mentions of injury, reader’s family is fucked up, violent confrontation (stops before it escalates but mentioning it jic)

“Do you wanna get married someday?”

It was past midnight and you and Satoru were in your room, lying on your bed, talking about everything and nothing at all. Your head was resting on his bare chest, one of his hands holding you to him by your waist and the other twirling a strand of your hair. It was a quiet moment, the good kind, and you didn’t want it to end.

You lifted your head and looked at him, the moonlight reflecting in his eyes as he peered at you, a relaxed expression painting his features. “You wanna marry me?”

“‘Course,” he said without hesitation. He squeezed your waist and smiled. “What about you? Wanna marry me?”

You tilted your head to the side and hummed, pretending to consider your answer very carefully. “I don’t know,” you told him. “Would you sign a prenup?”

He let out a soft laugh and shook his head, pulling you over to straddle him. “I’d do anything for you,” he told you as he leaned up until your noses touched. “So, what do you say? After graduation?”

You nuzzled your nose against his, hovering over his lying form. “You gotta get a job first,” you said. “How else could you afford a ring?”

“Right, right,” Satoru whispered, his gaze drifting towards your lips. “What kind of ring do you want? Diamond? Sapphire? What about emerald?”

You ran a hand through his hair and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Any ring would do.”

His smile grew wider, his grin all toothy and boyish. “You’re an easy girl to please,” he said as he cupped your cheek. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you said back, smiling now too.

“I really love you, do you know that?”

You scrunched your nose. “I might’ve had an inkling.”

“Just an inkling?” he asked, hands coming to grip your thighs. He clicked his tongue. “Now. that won’t do.”

You laughed. “You’re such a dork,” you told him.

“Well, you love this dork.”

You nodded, letting your lips hover over his, the promise of a kiss just waiting to be fulfilled. “I do,” you told him. “I really do.”

“Aika’s down.”

You look up from the place on the ground where you’ve been stretching. Yuki walks over to the team with a disappointed look on her face, her phone dangling from her hand.

Mai, who’s sitting on the bench beside you, is the first to ask. “What happened, coach?”

Yuki sighs. “Busted her ACL.”

There’s a resounding chorus of winces and “fuck”s. There’s also a silently shared consensus of “thank god it wasn’t me.” It’s selfish, you all know that, but someone else’s injury is always just another bullet dodged for you.

“On the bright side, the doctors say she can make a full recovery,” Yuki tells you. “But that’ll take a while and it’ll leave us with an empty spot in singles.”

“Mika’s coming back, isn’t she?” you ask. “Her exchange program’s ending soon.”

Mai shakes her head. “Not soon enough,” she says. “We have our first real tournament a week after she comes back. She won’t have enough time to train.”

You turn to Yuki. “So what are we gonna do?”

She just grins. “You mean what are you gonna do?”

“What?”

“You’re playing singles.”

“What?”

“You played in high school, right?” Mai asks, prodding you with her foot to get your attention. “You’re probably our best shot right now.”

You let out a nervous laugh as everyone’s eyes fall on you. “I don’t know, guys,” you say. “I mean, you all saw me trip last time. I’ve been off my game.”

But Yuki’s already decided. She shrugs and places her phone in her pocket. “Then we lose,” she says, looking at you sternly, “and it’ll be your fault. So I suggest you bring your A game for the sake of the team.”

You swallow, trying to ignore the eyes that now rest of you, waiting for your oh-so-predictable answer. “Yes, coach.”

She nods and waves everyone off. “Get some rest, everyone,” she says. “You’ll need it.”

Everyone disperses, girls coming to pat you back and wish you luck. You know what they’re all thinking as their hands touch your skin. Thank god it wasn’t me.

“You’re so fucked,” Mai laughs once everyone has gone and you go to gather your things.

You shove her and roll your eyes. “Thanks for really backing me up there, partner,” you tell her, sarcasm dripping through your words. “‘You played in high school, right?’” you say as you attempt to mock her voice. “Such an ass.”

She wraps her arm around your shoulders and presses her head against yours. “You’ll be fine,” she says as she leads you to the locker room. “Besides, it’ll only be one tournament. The new girls are coming after the break too, so we’ll be just fine.”

You groan. “I hate you.”

“Whatever you say, partner.” She chuckles, leading you through the door. “You need a shower. You fucking stink.”

You push her head before sprinting forward. “I call the good shower!”

“Hey! You can’t do that!”

You sit in your car, engine off, window down as you stare at your phone. As soon as you left the sports complex, you found yourself overcome by a single thought: Sukuna.

The two of you haven’t spoken since you last saw each other. Since you… kissed. Granted, it’s only been a few days, but for the two of you, it feels like a lifetime. You don’t remember the last time you went this long without at least sending him a silly video or receiving a paragraph-long update from him describing a massive shit he’d just taken.

But even as you stare at your chat with him, you can’t bring yourself to send him anything.

You haven’t told anyone about the kiss. Not Maki, not Nobara, not even Kento, no matter how much you wanted to annoy him with random information about your life. For some reason, you can’t seem to let the thought slip through your lips, can’t even vocalize the fact that it happened. And that you don’t know why it’s bothering you so much. And that you don’t know why you’ve been plagued by the desire to have it happen again.

You tuck your phone back into your pocket and shake your head. It’ll work itself out, you think. Things between you and Sukuna always do anyway.

With a sigh, you turn your car on and drive back to your apartment.

As you park your car, you wonder if the elevator in your building—after a good few days of being out of service—has finally been repaired or if you need to climb up the three flights of stairs with your tired legs. The prospect of walking more than a few feet isn’t appealing at all.

You grab your bags from the backseat and get out of your car, following the familiar steps from the parking lot to the elevator.

And that’s when you see him.

You find that you can’t move. You can’t leave, you can’t run, you can’t hide. You just stand there, frozen, in complete and utter shock. How did he even know where to find you?

“Dad?”

The word feels foreign on your tongue, worn out of your vocabulary from disuse.

He stands before you with a smile, holding his arms out in the prospect of an embrace. “Sweetheart,” he says, the pet name passing through his tongue coated in sickly sweet honey. “It’s been too long.”

He leans forward to hug you, but you manage to step back, avoiding his touch. He frowns at that and lowers his arms. “You don’t look happy to see me.”

You cross your arms over your chest. “What are you doing here?”

“I can’t see my daughter now?” he asks, eyes narrowing. “Is that how it is between us?”

Your eyes shift away from him. “What are you doing here?” you ask again, quieter this time.

“I just wanted to see you,” he tells you in the most earnest tone a liar can muster. “And I wanted to tell you the good news.”

You scoff. Not once in your life has your father ever had good news for you. “The good news?”

He clasps his hands together and nods. “You have a baby brother.”

“What?” You gape at him. “What are you talking about?”

“Hisako gave birth,” he tells you happily. “Just a few weeks ago.”

“Hisako,” you repeat slowly, trying to place the name. Your eyes widen in realization. “Oh,” you say softly. “Is she the new one?”

He tuts. “Don’t call her that.”

You’re not quite sure what he expects from you at this point. Your father who, at nine, you learned had been habitually sleeping with women who were not your mother. Your father who, despite his penchant for infidelity, your mother could never quite bring herself to leave. Your father who, just a few months ago, you learned had gotten his most recent mistress pregnant and who decided it was only right to treat the whole thing like it was normal, like it was expected.

As he starts to talk about your new brother, your hand slips to your phone. It’s almost an instinct, pressing his name in your contacts. Second nature, searching for him when things are going wrong.

You don’t even have to look at your phone to know that Sukuna’s already answered your call, that he can hear every single part of this ludicrous conversation you’re having with the man who expects more than you will ever want to give him.

Just as you start to think that things can’t get any worse, your father drops the bomb. The real reason why he’s here in the first place.

“I want you to come home.”

You blink at him. “You want me to do what?”

“Come home,” he tells you. “Your mother can’t stand the baby and Hisako’s not exactly good at the whole child-rearing thing.”

“You want me to come home and leave college to take care of your kid?” you ask in disbelief. The anger hits you before you even realize it. “Do you know how fucking insane you sound?”

Your father doesn’t like that. He doesn’t like it at all. His lips twist into a snarl as he steps closer to you, grabbing your wrist when you try to back up.

“Don’t ever speak to me like that again,” he seethes. “You will come home because I’m telling you to. I have no idea how you got it in your head that you could just leave your family the way you did, but I’ve indulged your childish fantasies for long enough.”

You struggle against him, panic settling in as his grip on you tightens. “Dad—”

“You’re just like your mother, you know?” he says, venom coursing through his words. “Always so fucking stubborn.”

You look down at your wrist as it gets crushed in his hold. “You’re hurting me,” you say. “Please. Stop.”

“So stubborn, so—”

You barely even catch it, the moment that flashes between your father nearly breaking your wrist and him being pushed away. It’s a blur, really. It happens so quickly, so quietly, you have to wonder if it’s even happened at all.

“Respectfully, sir, back the fuck off.”

You look at the man standing in front of you, his back a sight you might even know better than that of your own hand.

“Leave,” Sukuna spits out before your father can even say a word. Even turned away from you, he keeps a protective hand on your shoulder. He squeezes as if to say, It’s okay. I got this.

Your father glares. “You,” he says. “You’re the brat who ruined my daughter. She was so good before she met you. Now she’s fucked in the head.”

“Is that why she’s been doing so great without you?” Sukuna shoots back. You can tell through his voice that he’s holding back. Your best friend’s never been one to shy away from violence, he’s only restraining himself for your sake. You may not love the man, but he is still your father, and Sukuna knows that means something to you.

“Leave,” Sukuna tells your father. “I won’t say it again.”

Your father snickers, looking past Sukuna at you. “I always figured you’d never survive on your own,” he says. “Just like your mother.”

“Sir, if you don’t fucking—”

“I’m leaving, brat,” your father tells your friend, backing up. “You can fucking have her.”

It’s quiet for a moment, the only sounds you can hear are your father’s footsteps retreating, disappearing. You and Sukuna stay in your places, motionless until the footsteps fade away completely.

You sniffle once and Sukuna is already turning and holding you to his chest, shushing you as you wipe tears from your eyes.

“It’s okay,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Can I see your wrist?”

Carefully, you lift your arm and his hands come to cradle yours as he studies your skin, grimaces at the light bruises that are starting to form in the spot that your father held.

“Did he do anything else?” he asks gently.

You shake your head. “I’m sorry for calling you.”

“What? Fuck no.” He places a finger beneath your chin and guides you to look at him. “Don’t ever apologize for that. None of this is your fault.”

“I shouldn’t have left,” you tell him. “I should’ve stayed with my mom. She has to live with that asshole every day of her life.”

His eyes soften at that. Always putting everyone else before you. “She’s okay,” he says. “And you tried to get her to leave. She was the one who wouldn’t listen.”

He can tell from the look on your face that his answer doesn’t sate you, isn’t exactly what you wanted to hear, but he can also tell that you know it’s the truth. You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. You learned that lesson long ago.

“I’m sorry,” you say again and you already know Sukuna’s about to scold you for it, so you press a finger to his lips before he does. “For avoiding you these past few days. I wasn’t being fair.”

He cracks a smile and behind your finger says, “I was avoiding you too. I’m sorry.”

You pull your finger away and bury your face in his chest for a moment, breathing in the scent of his detergent, the brand you helped him pick out in freshman year that he’s used ever since. “You wanna come upstairs?”

“I wasn’t gonna leave you even if you asked,” he says, eyes crinkling as he grins.

notes. this chapter is A LOT but we’re really getting deeper into reader’s background and ofc sukuna saving the day is 🥵 anyway just wanted to mention that i really enjoy reading your comments and asks, i don’t get to reply to everything but i see it all and ily babes <3 glad you’re enjoying this series because i’m having so much fun writing it

#hqbaby.miu #hqbaby #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo #gojo x reader #sukuna #sukuna x reader

242 notes · View notes

22ayla19 · 11 hours

Text

Jiyan x Pregnant! reader

As the wife of a general, you rarely saw your husband at home, but even so, in those rare moments when you spend time together, you try to enjoy so as not to forget them. After all, no one knows whether tomorrow or the day after tomorrow your husband will be alive.

Once again you accompany your husband to the gate and sadly look back at his departing figure. The next time you see him, you're not sure. Maybe in a month, maybe in two or three. No matter how many months pass, you will still be waiting for Jiyan.

However, a week after your husband left, you began to feel sick in the morning. Without being stupid and remembering that about a week ago you had sex with Jiyan, this could mean that you are pregnant. Of course, you bought a pregnancy test and checked your guesses, which in the end turned out to be correct.

Not knowing what to do in such a situation, you went to the hospital where your mother-in-law works. She, as a doctor and as a woman who has gone through pregnancy, will be able to tell you what to do, because in the early stages there is a possibility of miscarriage, and given your position as the wife of a general, who often puts her life on the line on the battlefield, there may be a high probability of miscarriage. How are you worried about him?

- Hello, mom. How are you doing? - you asked after knocking in your mother-in-law’s office. You didn’t even call her mother-in-law or her name, because she became a real mother to you. You grew up without a mother who died during childbirth. She was in the care of her father. You didn’t complain about life, because others could have had it worse, but your father didn’t stay with you for long, he died a couple of years ago. And when you first met Jiyan’s mother, you cried because of how much you missed your mother. The woman warmed to you and accepted you as her daughter.

- (Y/N), dear! Come in, come in! I haven’t seen you like that for a long time,- the woman hugged you, to which you happily responded.

- Sorry for not visiting, it’s work,- you answered the woman guiltily.

- Don’t worry, you have your own life, that’s why it’s understandable that you’re busy, sit down.

After chatting a bit about Jiyan's return and the latest news, you gathered your strength to share the good news.

- Mom, I really came to you with good news, - rummaging in your bag, you pulled out a pregnancy test and handed it to your mother-in-law. At first the woman did not understand why you wanted to please her. Taking the pregnancy test into her own hands, the woman’s smile became even wider.

- Will I become a grandmother? - the mother-in-law asked, not believing the test.

- You will become a grandmother, - you answered calmly, but just as happily.

- My congratulations, dear! How happy I am for you! Does Jiyan even know?

- No, I just found out that I’m pregnant a couple of days ago, and he’s been gone for almost two weeks, - you explained. You were already about to say something, like advice for pregnant women, when your father-in-law came into the office.

- Why are you happy here without me? Did something good happen? - asked the man.

- Rejoice, old brat. You will become a grandfather! - the wife shouted joyfully.

- Come on! (Y/N), dear, are you really pregnant? - The man asked you, not believing his wife’s words.

- Yes, father. I am pregnant.

The man smiled with all his teeth and joyfully said that now his colleagues would envy him that he became a grandfather before them. We laughed a lot at the man’s words, but the uncertainty immediately disappeared when we saw their loving glances.

Over the next months, while Jiyan was away, his parents helped you in any way they could. The main thing was that they supported you morally, because you were still worried about your husband. Another point where they helped you was with a medical examination, you underwent it on their advice once or twice a month. You decided not to find out the sex of the child ahead of time, let it be a surprise for everyone, no matter who it is, a boy or a girl.

Soon it was announced that the general would return, which means he will soon find out that he will become a father. The belly has already become more noticeable, although this is not surprising considering that I am already 4 months pregnant.

It was evening outside, you were in the living room with your mother-in-law and were talking about different topics. She often came and helped around the house more than once, saying: “You’re in a position, so it’s better to rest and walk more. I’ll cook you delicious, but healthy food at the same time.”

While you were chatting, the front door opened.

- I’ll go check who’s there, - said the future grandmother.

You remained in the living room, sitting on the sofa. Expecting to hear at least some voices, but somehow everything was suspiciously quiet.

Meanwhile, in the corridor, the woman met her son, who had returned from the border zone. Jiyan wanted to ask what his mother was doing in his house, but she told him to remain silent and quietly, so that you wouldn’t hear, told him to go to the living room, where you had prepared a surprise for him.

Jiyan was confused, what have you prepared that even his mother is participating in your idea? Quietly entering the living room, he greeted you, thereby frightening you.

- I’m sorry, dear, that I scared you, - the general said guiltily.

- It’s okay, I’m glad you returned safe and sound,- you replied. Jiyan didn’t immediately realize that you were pregnant, because you covered your stomach with a blanket.

- Mom, she said that you had prepared a surprise for me. Curious to know what it is?

- Well, the surprise itself is not ready yet. It will be ready only after another 5 months, - you answered your husband with a mischievous smile.

- That is?

You didn’t leave your husband thinking for long and took off the blanket. Jiyan's eyes widened in surprise. He remembered leaving and leaving you for a couple of months, but he didn’t know you were pregnant.

-Are you pregnant? - A lot of emotions were reflected on the general’s face. And joy, and fear, and surprise. He did not expect that he would soon become a father, he was very happy to realize this, but with this comes fear. Fear of losing you and your unborn child.

- Yes darling. I am pregnant.

These words echoed in his mind. He cried, cried with happiness.

- Darling, you can’t imagine how happy I am. You made me the happiest person in the world, - hugging you and also crying, he thanked you for such wonderful news.

Maybe someday he will have to die on the battlefield, but until then, he will fight. To fight so that I can return home to Jinzhou and see you and your baby growing up every day.

#wuthering waves x reader #wuthering waves #jiyan #jiyan x you #jiyan x reader

163 notes · View notes

ceesimz · 8 hours

Text

We're All We Need Today

Hey, long time no story! I'm back with this, something I had the idea for a long time ago but it was low on my list of favourites. Then I re-jigged it and re-worked it and now it's done! Everybody's favourite trope, or mine at least, angst to fluff. It's been a while since I last posted and I find myself riddled with nerves about posting stories again now, so (and I never do this because I cringe at myself) if you do like this story, please let me know in whatever way suits you because I'm seriously struggling with writer's anxiety right now and I don't have the foggiest idea how to get out of it😅

It should have been just a normal Tuesday. A normal evening on a random day mid-week in May. Training for you both that ended just after lunchtime, before meeting up at Alexia's apartment early evening after the pair of you attended meetings or completed other pieces of work. That all went smoothly, it was perfectly fine.

Alexia shouldn't have looked at your phone without your permission though. She shouldn't have looked at your messages in the first place, nevermind doing it behind your back.

"I cannot believe you told your friends and did not tell me first!" Alexia shouted at you as soon as you walked out of the bathroom, your phone opened onto your friend groupchat in her hand.

"What? Alexia, what are you doing? Are you looking through my phone?" You cried out, marching over to snatch it back, but she holds it in the air out of your reach like a high school bully. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?"

"You told your friends without conferring with me first. You went behind my back and you know I didn't want anyone knowing!"

"You've gone behind my back too, looking through my phone! Why did you do that?" You jumped and grabbed your phone, confirming exactly what you thought.

She had gone through your phone whilst you were out the room, had clicked onto a chat with your closest friends who you trusted more than almost everyone in your life, and she had read just one message that said 'What does your weekend look like in sunny Barcelona? Any plans with A?'

"No, no. You aren't flipping this around. You swore to me-" She jabbed her finger harshly against your chest as she spoke. "-that you would not tell anyone until I said you could."

Is she for real right now? Who are you even talking to?

This is not the woman you fell in love with almost seven months ago. This is not the woman who used her captaincy as an excuse to get your number. This is not the woman who asked to be your girlfriend in such a shy and awkward manner as she stumbled over her words whilst eating dinner with you on her sofa. This definitely isn't the woman who cares for you how no one else has, nor is this the woman who loves you infinitely and shows it in ways you never could have thought possible.

This is a selfish, egotistical, self-centred, and downright cold-hearted person you do not recognise. The version of Alexia in front of you here is one you thought you'd never, ever encounter. Yet, look at the situation now.

"So, what, I have to run everything by you? I can't tell my closest friends possibly the biggest detail in my life? I can't tell them I'm in love and happier than ever?"

"No. Not now. We promised we wouldn't tell anyone, and you have betrayed me." Alexia huffed angrily, her hands on her hips as she turned away from you.

"I wanted to share this part of my li- you, with them! And, Ale, you've told Alba and Eli, why can't I tell my friends?" You moved to stand in front of her so you're facing her again, and she fixed you a disapproving glare with a jut to her jaw.

"Friends are different to family - I've never met these people! What are their intentions? I don't know, and I don't want them knowing private facts about me. That is why I'm mad." Alexia gritted her teeth as she spoke, fury swimming through her veins as her hands gripped her own hips so tightly you were sure there'd be bruises the next time she looked.

"What are you even saying? Do you hear yourself right now?" You scoffed, your anger almost tripling when the woman in front of you chuckled.

"Trust me, I hear myself. I also hear you denying everything, denying the fact you've outed our relationship, denying the fact you've broke my trust. Betrayed the one thing I asked you to promise not to do. Maybe you're the one who needs their ears checking, remember when I said 'let's wait some time to tell people.' Maybe you misheard me and thought I said 'how about we tell every fucking person in the city?' So yes, I hear myself. Very clearly, you don't have to worry about that."

You stared, glared, at her for a few moments, gobsmacked at the turn of events whilst also trying not to burst into tears. This is a situation you never thought would occur between you both, and the vile way she spoke to you paired with her foul accusations had you slipping on your shoes and leaving her apartment. And, possibly the worst part of it all? She didn't even try to stop you.

Why was it always about her, about what she wants, always on her terms?

What about your opinion? She didn't care to hear you out, and it sounds like she doesn't give two flying fucks what you've got to say. Alexia Putellas and her dense head coming into play again, only caring about herself and her legacy and what people say about her. You'd think that as someone who, to the public, seems so very secure and content in her position as the best women's player still in the game, that she wouldn't be so worrisome and out-right vile if there was a chance something wasn't going her way.

No, she wasn't like that with you at least, not at all. You hadn't been together long, but the secrecy and, what you inferred now as shame, seeped into your mind and with each step as you walked home that day, you grew more and more, not only utterly infuriated, but overwhelmingly perturbed at the prospect of just... everything.

Perhaps your whole relationship had merely been a fluke. Something Alexia didn't take serious in the slightest, and nowhere near serious enough for you to tell people about it. Maybe, at the end of the day, you were too much for her to deal with, and the only way the Catalan could cope was by keeping you behind closed doors. The theories your mind was coming up made you sick to the pit of your stomach, and it was a miracle that you made it to the bathroom of your apartment by the time you were emptying the contents of your body.

There was some kind of higher power watching over you, because this whole fiasco had occurred when there were two days off afterwards. It was coming up to the tail end of the season, and as the latter half of the month was jam-packed with tense games, you had planned to make the most of the time off. With a few social events scattered across the two days, you had been greatly looking forward to spending time with your teammates outside of the pitch, your friends, and at the time most importantly, Alexia. That all didn't seem enticing anymore, nor did it even seem possible.

For the time being though, as you stumbled your way out of the bathroom and fell into bed, the breakfast catch-ups and evening dinners were the last things on your mind. The only way you wanted to spend your time off, was wallowing in a trench of self-pity.

And that's how you found yourself in the gym of your apartment complex some fourty hours later.

Jab, jab, hook. Jab, jab, hook. Right hook, then a left uppercut, and another right hook to follow.

Punch after punch after punch after punch. There was no stopping you in this mindset. Not with the things your head was chanting, Alexia's words circling endlessly around your mind. They were what fuelled you right now, allowing you to lay into the punching bag before you with no second thought to the consequences.

And those consequences were sure to bring you a lot of pain later, in your hands that weren't wrapped up like they should, nevermind wearing gloves.

There was music playing through the earphones you had in, but for the life of you, you couldn't even register it right now. Your vision was blurred by pure rage, failing to recognise the cuts forming with every unrestrained punch and the bruises beginning to form along the bumps of each knuckle. You had tunnel vision on one thing and one thing only, and that was trying to dispel yourself of the all-consuming anger that had plagued you for almost two days now.

"Amiga! Basta, basta, hey." A soft voice broke through your trance as your earphones were delicately tugged from your ears. "Hey, you hear me?"

As your hands were gently taken ahold of by the figure to your right, you took a deep breath and leaned forward to rest your forehead against the bag. It was now that the woman beside you realised just how poor your breathing was, and she brought one of her hands to rub caringly up and down your back.

"Más despacio, relájate. Tómatelo con calma, vale? Relájate." Her voice soothed you a little, giving you the peace of mind you needed to set your breathing back to normal. "Are you with me?"

At that, you nod and take some more breaths before leaning up and taking in the person beside you. It was Mariona, who you shared the same apartment complex with, a fact you had forgotten about. In this moment, you weren't sure if you were thankful for that fact or if you resented it.

"Yes, with you." You wiped your face on the sleeve of your shirt before properly looking at her.

"Are you okay?" Mariona knew it probably wasn't the wisest thing to say, but for the moment as she collected her thoughts and did an internal assessment of the situation, it was more of a buffer than anything.

"Um, I guess there's no point lying, is there." You state flatly, the Spaniard smiling sadly at you and shaking her head. "Things aren't great... right now, so."

"Okay. That's okay." Mariona's smile was perhaps the brightest thing you'd seen, and with her looking at you the way she was, with so much care and a major lack of judgement, it was hard to reject the help she was soon to offer.

"Will you let me take care of you? I have a first aid kit in my apartment that I can use for these." She gestured down to your bruised and battered hands that were growing more painful by the second. "We can talk if you want, or you can at least let me patch you up and I can call somebody else. It's up to you."

You thought you knew what you wanted, and it wasn't this, but now that the offer is glaringly right in your face, your inner monologue urged you to fall to your knees and beg for assistance, for someone to scoop up all the negativity in your mind and lift the weight of it from your shoulders.

Isolating yourself from everyone, as you had done in the last days, wasn't healthy in the slightest, and rationally you knew the excuses you gave for doing so were completely unwarranted. Yes, you were the newest signing, and yes, Alexia was the captain and the glue of the team. However, that did not lessen your worth, you still deserved your spot on the team and you deserved to be treated with humanity. As Mariona had shown in the span of a few moments, your teammates wouldn't pick sides depending on how long you had and hadn't known people, and they certainly wouldn't treat you any less just because you had fallen out with - foregoing her team title - your girlfriend.

You were only human after all.

"I would appreciate that, thank you, Mariona."

Once more, the forward smiled politely at you and nodded, moving to wait at the door to the gym to wait for you as you collected up your things. Each movement of your hands had you grimacing in discomfort, a fact not lost on Mariona as she took the items, like your water bottle and your jumper, from you just to take the edge off a little.

You weren't too close with Mariona, you had gravitated towards the likes of Ingrid and Fridolina and Aitana when you joined (and Alexia, of course), but at the end of the day she was still your teammate and you often found yourself in a group with her in training since you were also a forward. The 28 year old was a hard-worker, yet she was also one of the most laid-back people you'd ever met, so in her presence it was hard not to allow yourself to relax even just a tiny bit. The aura that radiated off of her was oddly settling, and as you both made your way up to her apartment in relative silence, you were offered your first slice of serenity since that day not too long ago.

"Would you like a shower first? You look like you worked yourself hard in there." Mariona offered as she closed the door of her apartment behind you.

"No, it's okay, thanks." You gave her an awkward, tight-lipped smile, feeling somewhat embarrassed at having been caught in such a vulnerable moment - a moment when you were filled with such rage and negativity, that all you could do was lay into a harmless object like a woman possessed.

"Alright. Sit down at the counter, I will get all I need and be with you in a second."

With a sheepish nod, you complied and sat at the island counter in the kitchen, taking a moment to compose yourself before you knew an emotionally charged conversation was about to take place. You were tempted to take Mariona up on her offer to call somebody else, but honestly you were already exhausted and just wanted to get this whole situation off of your chest.

You'd been lugging it around for days now, encumbered by the weight of anger that, as time went on, was bleeding into exasperation and disconcertion because, in all honesty, you just wanted your girlfriend back. That was a little difficult though, because the woman in question was still being as cold as ever and for the life of you, you couldn't get a good read on her to figure out what her stand was on it all now. Whether she'd confided in Mapi or Irene or her sister or even Mariona, you had no idea, you just hoped there was still an ounce of her that cared for you in just a sliver of the way you did for her.

Though you hadn't seen or heard from her since that evening, her actions and her words were still fresh on your mind, and no matter how much time you spent mentally going through each doing of hers, it all made zero sense. In no way shape or form had Alexia portrayed such viciousness towards you, nor had she ever been so horrible and completely unfair in the time you had known her. Maybe it was a case of only knowing her for a short-ish amount of time, but her behaviour seemed so out of character that it set a feeling of uneasiness in your chest.

Hopefully, bumping into Mariona, someone who had been good friends with Alexia for a long time, would give you some insight into why the Barcelona captain had acted in such ways.

"Here we go. I'm sorry if I hurt you, but it is unfortunately a necessary evil in this case." Mariona purses her lips forgivingly as she pulls out two alcohol wipes that already have you wincing at the thought. "Are you ready?"

"Yep, just get it done with. Please."

You hold your breath as she rips open one of the packets, then you watch on as she takes hold of your left hand first and lightly runs it over and in between each knuckle. It hurts a hell of a lot, sure it does, but with the tenderness that the Spaniard treats you with, all you can focus on is trying not to burst into tears at the kindness you're faced with. Your mind has been anything but towards you, and the last proper human interaction you had that had been longer than a few brief minutes was your intense argument with Alexia. So this moment here was overwhelming, in many more ways than one.

"That's one done, your right hand looks a bit worse. Am I okay to carry on?"

Honestly, why couldn't you have fallen for someone like Mariona, instead of the ignorant, hot-headed woman you were in love with?

"Yeah, it's fine."

The silence between you both is weirdly not unsettling or awkward at all, instead it's relatively comforting and for the first time in days, your skin isn't crawling at the fact you're left alone with nothing but the sound of your endless cycle of thoughts.

The Spaniard standing beside you was correct, your right hand was indeed slightly worse off than your left, and that was only made more clear with each brush of the wipe, clearing away the blood only to show cuts in the divots of your knuckles and bruises covering the entirety of the right end of your hand.

"You have a good punch on you, ever thought about boxing instead of football?" Mariona joked, trying to uplift the heavy atmosphere in the room.

"No, wouldn't want to mess up this face." You replied, the forward laughing quietly and nodding.

"You are right, and football is much more easy to watch."

You supplied her with an agreeing smile, trying to hide your discomfort as she moved your hands around to assess the damage and make a plan of action.

"Okay, I think I will apply some antiseptic cream for your cuts and wrap them up with bandages. Then I will give you an ice pack for each hand, does that sound alright?"

"That's perfect, Mariona, thank you." You smile gratefully at her, and thought it's not a genuine smile, you hope she understands the appreciation you hold for her.

"It is not a problem. We look after each other at Barça, sabes? Anything you need, please do not be afraid of reaching out. To any of us."

And there is her segue into striking up the conversation you'd both danced around since she saw you.

You had to give it to her, she let a few moments pass by so it could come across as a bit less obvious, but nevertheless it happened just as you had expected.

"Are you comfortable talking to me about what happened in the gym?" She took note of the hesitation you greeted that question with, so she put the tube of cream down and faced you fully. "That was a bit concerning to walk in on, and I wouldn't be at peace with myself if I let you out of here without checking in on you."

"I... I guess, yeah." You sighed.

"Thank you. How would you like to start?" Mariona wondered with her ever-present smile, pairing it with a nonchalant shrug, further evidence of her care-free nature that continued to draw you in. "You can start talking about what is on your mind, or I can ask some leading questions to help. I am fine with anything, I just want you to leave here feeling a bit better."

Mariona had asked you a few moments ago if you had ever thought about boxing. Now, you wanted to ask her if she'd ever considered being a psychologist.

"I think it would help if you asked some questions, maybe." You decided, and she nodded instantly. She grabbed the tube of cream again and started applying it at the same time she uttered her first query.

"Do you normally practice on the bag without gloves on?" It was a very light one to start off with, perhaps something to be grateful for, but despite feeling a little calmer now, your mind was still in turmoil and wasn't fully recovered yet.

"No, I always wrap them up. I didn't even plan on using the bag today, it just... I was on the treadmill and then I saw it and wanted to use it. I wasn't really thinking straight, so. Yeah. This is the result of that." You took a sharp breath as the forward smoothed over a particularly bad cut with the antiseptic.

"Mhm. And, forgive me for this one, was it your intention to hurt yourself?"

That one took your breath a little.

"No, no, not at all. It wasn't even a thought in my head, I swear, I only wanted to get my anger out." You responded hastily, trying to convince her that you were relatively okay and that this was just a blip, and you didn't need some kind of intervention.

"Okay, thank you for being honest. I'm very glad to hear that, and I'll take your word for it." After finishing with your current hand, she squeezes it comfortingly and moves onto your other one. "Are you willing to tell me what's wrong? Why you needed to get some anger out?"

"Yeah... yeah, I am. I have to give you some context though, and I'd be really grateful if you kept it between us."

Mariona wasn't a gossip by any sorts, but as a result of the months of Alexia's words drilling into you of how nobody can know about you both, it was still an anxiety you had. Yet, the woman looking after you in such a heart-warming way was quite possibly the good samaritan you needed right now, her acts of kindness a reminder to not lose all hope with the world around you. You were well within your right to freak out in the way you had - not only were you in an entirely new city, learning a language you hadn't paid any mind to since school, but rather naively you had probably depended on Alexia more than you should have.

It was a lesson to be learnt, a mistake you wouldn't make again, though in the future even if you didn't recognise it yet, you'd look back on your time so far and wouldn't even regret it that much. After all, every moment of the past ten months had led you to the love of your life, and nothing was ever completely perfect. You would take a few bumps in the road if it meant you could end the season with a few medals around your neck and the greatest woman you'd ever met on your arm. Sure, you might not think the greatest of her right now, but you would mend it. You were sure you would. Hopefully.

"Of course, I won't tell a soul. You can tell me anything and no one will ever hear a word of it." Mariona reasurred you and though you hadn't really doubted her in the first place, you were still beyond grateful to hear that.

"So, um... Alexia and I have been in a relationship for a few months."

Yet again, Mariona continued to surprise you with how marvelous she was. Or maybe it was just an after effect of how much Alexia's words had got to you, because when the islander simply raised her eyebrows for a millisecond before nodding as you revealed your news, you're shocked at how much of a low-key reaction she gave. Whether she had an incredible poker-face or she just didn't care half as much as Alexia thought people would, your body sagged in relief at that minute response. As far as human beings go, this one right here wasn't too bad at all.

"And, for reasons I still don't understand, she was adamant that we keep it a secret. Like it was some kind of war tactic we had to keep safe. She made it out to be a make or break situation for us. But she told Eli and Alba less than a week after we made it all official, which I didn't think much of. I talked to her about it back then, wondering if it was just something she wanted to keep quiet while we were only in the dating stage, but she told me I still couldn't tell anyone. I guess because I was still relatively new here, with not many close friends and still with the mindset of trying to earn my place in the team, I agreed. Then as time went on I got a bit... annoyed with what Alexia wanted, but whenever I brought it up with her she would immediately shut the conversation down. I figured I could do it slyly, without telling her and without telling anyone any kind of intricate details of our relationship. So I took matters into my own hands."

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose at this point, knowing it was here in the story where things got quite rocky. Mariona had finished applying the antiseptic at this point and was now getting the bandages ready, prepped with the medi-tape beside her to secure her wrapping. With each new fact you unveiled, she nodded along in understanding, completely on the same page with you. She didn't understand the actions of her friend as of yet, wondering why on earth she'd be so intensely secretive about her relationship to the point of not telling a single soul, but those were thoughts she wouldn't voice yet.

Mariona herself was in a private relationship, and she was happier than ever in it. However, it wasn't a secret. Sure, she wasn't posting photos of herself and Lia all over her social media, but if you looked close enough the facts were clearly there. Plus, pretty much everyone in her personal life and Lia's knew about the pair of them, and nobody was fussed. So why Alexia was acting in this way, she didn't have a single idea.

"I told my closest, most trusted friends that I was in a relationship, and that the name of the person I was with began with 'A'. That was genuinely all I gave. I warned them not to nag me with guesses of who it was as that would break my own personal rules, because after all I didn't want to go behind Alexia's back more than I already had. Then... Alexia went through my phone. She saw that my friends were making plans in the group chat back home, and then they wondered if I had plans with 'A' over the weekend."

"She went through your phone?" Mariona questioned, in disbelief at the invasion of privacy you'd experienced.

"Yes, she did. The text flashed up on my lock screen while I went to the bathroom, and then she just went on my phone and looked through my messages. I don't know how in depth she went, but..." You shrugged, averting your gaze to your aching hands, ultimately defeated by now; by Alexia and her stubbornness, by your own mind, and lastly by the fact you had been so suddenly caught out by one of your teammates.

It was at this point that the numbness dispelled and gave way for shame, embarrassment, and a bit of anxiety. After all, you didn't know anyone from the team in depth, you were still just getting to know them, and the first thing you had done when you arrived was dive head first into a relationship with their captain. There was an endless possibility to the vast amount of opinions each person could hold for you and how they felt about your relationship (even though there was almost no way at all they could know about it), and as the silent seconds ticked by, it started eating away at you.

Though, somehow, in some magical, god-given miraculous way, Mariona saw right through you. And from now on, you were to make it your life mission to give back to this messiah in the form of an attacking footballer from the Balearic Islands of Spain.

"Hey." She tapped on the counter in front of you to get your attention, achieving that when you look up at her. "You don't have to... to get defensive with me. I can bet what you're thinking, and you don't have to worry about all those thoughts. I am neutral here, helping a friend. I will not go and tell Alexia or anyone about this, not if you don't want me to. And trust me, I am on your side. I have never heard of her acting like this, I am shocked and slightly outraged too."

That was undeniably relieving to hear, for a number of reasons. But for the most part, you were glad to hear that because for the past few days your mind had been trying its damn hardest to manipulate you into thinking this whole commotion was your fault, that you were the fault-line in the relationship that had caused this rickety earthquake.

No, that was no longer a worry, because here was possibly the human example of sunshine saying she shared your view and was just as displeased as you when it came to the Catalan's behaviour. Now, knowing you had at least one person on your side, this obstacle felt a little easier to climb over.

"I do have one thing I'm wondering." After a curious hum from you, she explained. "Is there anything you would like me to do in this situation? Like, bring it up with Ale? Because for both of your sakes, I want this to be solved in the easiest way possible."

Was it a good idea, judging off of Alexia's already toxic reaction to the point where she refused to hear you out? Most likely, but, not only did you think Mariona could teach her a thing or two when it came to human interactions, there was a small (actually fairly large) part of you that wanted to fight back against Alexia's unfairness by showing her you simply were not one to be trampled on.

There were two people in this relationship, and in this moment you realised that rank, longevity, and status in a football team were measly things to worry about.

"I think that would be a good way to start. Having someone knock some sense into her." You answered, quietly delighted when Mariona laughed momentarily at your words.

"I will try to do exactly that, for you. Promise." For the millionth time that evening, you found yourself completely under the influence of that goddamn smile.

"You're very good at communication. Unnervingly good." The hearty laugh you got in response forced the first genuine smile out of you all evening.

"Well, when you have a very emotionally intelligent girlfriend, you have to keep up."

"If you could give Alexia some lessons, I would appreciate that a lot."

"I will talk to her. Don't worry."

You left Mariona's apartment not too long after, both hands wrapped precariously and feeling significantly better than you did during that gym incident, finding solace in the fact there was now a fairly solid plan of action.

The only thing you could do now, was wait.

That was harder said than done, because for the rest of that day you didn't hear from Mariona at all. Nor did you hear from her before training the day after, and for the first time since you arrived, you were wracked with nerves as you walked into the building.

Not once during the whole session did Alexia glance towards you. Not once did she even acknowledge your existence. It drove you crazy, her acting as if you were invisible. As if she couldn't get anymore fucking immature. It took a lot of self control to not act like a petulant child towards her, desperate to piss her off in a quarter of the way she had to you, but you were better than that.

So when she rocked up outside your apartment later that day, with freshly dyed blonde hair that was styled in a frustratingly attractive way, a bouquet of chrysanthemums in one hand and a takeaway bag in the other, it took all of your strength to not slam the door in her stupidly hot face.

"What are you doing here?" You asked flatly, followed by a sigh that clearly indicated she was the last person on earth you wanted to see right now.

Well, with that haircut, maybe not the last person...

"I have a lot of explaining to do, I know that. And a lot of grovelling too. I was hoping you didn't hate me that badly to let me in." Alexia smiled sadly down at you, a slight shrug to her shoulders when she speaks.

Your mind goes back and forth for a few moments, briefly running through pros and cons of letting her in, before you decide fuck it, worst comes to worst you can show off your new boxing skills.

Eyebrows raised, you walk away from the door back towards your sofa, leaving her to wonder what to do for a moment. Ultimately, she decides to slowly follow after you once she'd softly closed the door. A quick glance around your apartment tells her you hadn't eaten yet, and she takes that as a small win before heading towards where you were seated.

"I brought your favourite takeout. Would you like to me dish it up?" She asks, a little disheartened when you shake your head.

"If you came here to talk, we're gonna talk." You state firmly, waiting expectantly for her to come sit with you.

She should have expected this really, knowing how royally she'd screwed it up with you and how disgusting she had acted. But hearing you speak so sternly was a bit unnerving, even if Alexia did recognise she more than deserved it.

A second later, she nods and places her items down on your dining table before making her way over to you. Rightfully so, she leaves some space between you both when she sits down, and you have to stifle a laugh as to not ruin your façade with how on edge she looks.

"Uh, so, me first, or..." Staying silent, you raised a daring eyebrow at her, thoroughly enjoying putting her through this slight torture. "Sí, okay, me first."

Anxiously, she wipes her clammy palms on her thighs. Then she cleared her throat, glancing at you periodically before taking a deep breath and starting her explanation.

"I am well, well aware of how bad I have acted towards you. I want to make that clear first. I acted like an idiot, to the worst degree. I was selfish, rude, I invaded your privacy, and I completely fucked it all up."

Hm, not too bad of a start.

"Congratulations, you took responsibility!" You responded sarcastically, fighting the urge to give her a round of applause too. Then you're fighting off a bubble of laughter at the nervous chuckle she gives before speaking again.

"I will regret my actions until the day I die. I promise you, I will never behave like that ever again. I've never been more ashamed of myself in my life, and knowing it's you who I acted like that towards makes it a hundred times worth. Because, you..." She shakes her head and waves her hands in the air like she's speechless. "You're you. You're the most selfless person I know. Your heart is something I do not deserve to have, because of how pure and kind and beautiful it is. You are so caring, and you love with every fibre of your being. Not only that, but you're so open, and I really admire that, because that is something I'm not. I'm... I'm ashamed to admit that even now I'm still anxious, and being secretive is how I've lived all my life. I want to be more open and care-free, I really do, it's just... hard for me."

With each word, each compliment, and each reason she gives, your hardened exterior towards her is slowly getting chipped away. You're not a grudge holder, it's not in your nature. And no matter how much you tried to fight it, it was inexplicably hard to not get wrapped up in her.

"Mariona... Mariona said you didn't even tell your friends it was me you were with. She said you only told them my name began with A, and that was it."

Alexia trusted Mariona of course, that was something that naturally occurred having known her for so long, but she wanted to get confirmation from you.

"I did. They don't know it's you I'm with." You told her, and if it was somehow possible, Alexia's heart shattered just that bit more.

"Well, I'm sorry, amor. I'm sorry for jumping to conclusions, it was really stupid and unfair of me. I really appreciate that you didn't break my trust, like I thought you had. I... that just shows how little I valued you. And I swear, that's something you'll never have to doubt again. I value you more than anyone in my life. I have a reason for why I was... more than reluctant to tell people about us. But I don't know if you want to hear it. I don't want you to think it's some flimsy excuse."

"Well, I mean, you may as well say it now." You scoffed, watching as she gulped nervously before nodding.

"My last relationship... with Jenni. That's why I'm so worried about telling people. Because even now, years after we ended our relationship that I would never ever want to go back to, people still talk about us, comment on our posts, make edits of us, and freak out about every little fucking interaction between us. It drives me crazy, even now, when I know I should not let it get under my skin, but it does and I can't stop it."

She shrugs dismissively as she talks, eyes cast down on her hands as she fidgets with the rings on her fingers. It's clearly a topic for her that's hard to discuss, and you want to reach out and take hold of one of her hands, but you don't want to distract her.

"When I was with Jenni, I was nowhere near as 'famous' as I am now. Now, I get the most vile and intrusive articles written about me, there are always cameras on me, paparazzi trying to figure out where I am at all times, and it really worries me because I don't want to involve you in that. If the media started writing things about you that were even just half as nasty as the things they've said about me, I would never be able to live with myself. It would eat me up, amor, I don't want you to go through that."

Okay, out of all the overthinking you've done in the last three days, your mind had not mustered up this point of view. This was undeniably sweet, a stark contrast to the way she'd treated you during the argument. You'd been with Alexia long enough to be more than familiar with how she acted on her anxieties in rather unhealthy ways for herself with harmful consequences for those around her as a result. Most likely, you realised, her recent behaviour was a demonstration of that very fact.

"And though those reasons shouldn't excuse my behaviour, because I should never have acted like that, I hope it gives you a tiny bit of insight into my head and allows you to recognise my actions came from a place of love, not malice. I showed it in completely the wrong way, but I swear to you from this moment on I will treat you better than I ever have, if you let me live up to that promise."

A shaky breath leaves the woman beside you, signifying the end of her ramble. And, to be honest, you'd forgiven her long before she finished speaking.

"Thank you for opening up to me. I forgive you, I do, but I won't forget how you treated me. If you ever show even a hint of that behaviour ever again, I'm out, Alexia, you must know that." You give her a clear warning, despite the fact your heart is crying out for you to just jump right back into her arms.

"I do know, I absolutely do know that." She seems to make the leap for you, as she shuffles along the sofa and gently takes ahold of both your hands. Your wounded hands. "Amor, what... what happened?"

Her voice is filled with concern, immediately overcome with nausea as a result of the worry she feels at the sight. However, that's nothing compared to the guilt she feels when you tell her what happened.

"Oh, um... an unfortunate run in with a punching bag not too long after our argument." You reveal sheepishly.

Alexia's heart drops. It drops from her chest, to the ground, through the core of the earth, and all the way down to China.

"This... this is because of me?" She whispers the question like she's terrified to utter the words. She's even more terrified of the answer.

"I guess. Yeah. I had to get my anger out some way, and I'm sure you're glad it wasn't your face." You try to joke, but it lands flatter than a pancake.

"Amor, I..." She can't find the right words within her to even attempt to apologise.

The great thing about mental health, was that 99% of the time you couldn't see it. That meant Alexia couldn't see the psychological damage she had caused you with her words.

But this, this was concrete evidence of just how much her treatment had affected you. She had done so much damage to your self-esteem, that you had no choice but to lash out to the point of injury. That, she feared, she would never get over.

"I guess Mariona failed to mention this part to you." Another pitiful attempt to lift the mood.

"She took care of you?" Alexia asked tentatively, the tiniest bit relieved when you nod.

In a split second, her arms were wound tightly around you as she tugged you into her lap. A rush of Catalan spilled from her, of which you gathered were words of apologies and sweet nothings to convey her intense regret. You didn't catch a word, not too familiar with the language despite playing for the pride of Catalunya, but you got the gist quite quickly and it didn't take you a moment longer before your arms were wrapped around her neck.

You were flooded with relief now that you were back in her hold, the embrace finally silencing the relentless voice in your head that had been going non-stop for days now. There were tears dripping onto your neck though, something that has you furrowing your brow and urging her to lift her head up.

"Ale, what's this for?" You asked, delicately wiping some of the tears that were overflowing.

"I just... I fucked it up so bad. So bad. Dios mío, you've ended up hurting yourself because of it. I'm just so sorry. I'm so so sorry."

Alexia falls apart then, breaking out into sobs that, though it's a rather a harsh thing to admit (not that you ever would, verbally) really exemplify her guilt and regret, and tie off her apology. You hate seeing her cry, hate seeing her so ruined, but all you can do now is hug her just as tight back and hope your words provide her some comfort.

"I forgive you, Ale, I do. My hands aren't your fault, it's a result of me not being sensible when letting my anger out. It's not your fault, mi corazón, not your fault at all."

You carry on spewing words of comfort for her until her cries finally subside a few minutes later. How she rubs at her eyes is something you find adorable, the way she does so reminding you of a young child. Your own hands follow her calloused ones, treating her with the same care she had complimented you on not so long ago. It warms her heart to no end, and it offers her a little reassurance of the fact you don't hate her guts.

"It's my fault a little bit." She mumbles, and there's a speckle of humour in it that you're not hesitant to jump on.

"Maybe a tiny bit." You whisper scandalously, smiling at the tearful laugh she lets out. "But I don't resent you for it. If I did, we wouldn't be in this position right now, okay?"

"Whatever you say, amor." Alexia nods, a semi-genuine smile on her face as she leans forward to rest her forehead on your shoulder.

"There's one thing I need from you for us to move past this." You state seriously a few quiet moments after.

She lifts her head up and nods vigorously, prepared to do just about anything you asked for if it meant she could love you for the rest of her life.

"I want to be able to tell people that are important to us. My family, my friends. Your family and friends. Our teammates. I'm not asking for us to go public on social media, I'm not asking for anything like that. I just want us to be more open. I want to be able to walk around Barcelona with you, like we did together when we started out dating. Because those moments with you, where you showed me your favourite restaurants and cafes and places special to you, they're some of my favourite memories with you. I just long for us to have a normal relationship, not one kept in the safety of our apartments behind closed doors. Because it's embarrassing and... and soul destroying being treated like I'm invisible. Just... treat me like a human fucking being in training, please? In public?"

It felt rather humiliating to be begging for such normal things, but that was the exact word you would use to describe this whole thing for you. Humiliating. To be treated like you had by, arguably, the sole person who shouldn't treat you like that, was something you never wished to experience again. Because, if you did? Well, there was simply no coming back.

But, you supposed, being in love was all about taking chances on people and relationships couldn't be built without a steady foundation of trust. That's all you could do now; trust in Alexia to nurture your heart like a delicate blossom where she cherishes every petal with gentle devotion.

"I will. Mi amor, I will do that and more. I will do anything you want me to, I promise that I will change my bad habits so that you never have to suffer at my hands again. I will love you like it's the last thing I'll do. You could never be invisible to me, you never were. From the first time I saw you, in your two-sizes-too-big Barça jumper on your first day, you've been everything but invisible to me."

Finally, the nail in the coffin to this whole ridiculous thing. And man, were you glad to see the back of it.

"As long as you don't embarrass me by one-upping me with your flawless free-kicks."

Despite the push to the shoulder you give her, you giggle and pull her back in for another hug. You'd been deprived of her embrace for far too long, and you planned to make up for it.

"I can't make any promises, unfortunately." You teased, grinning into the skin of her neck as her hands splayed out over your back, rubbing up and down comfortingly.

"I think I will take that." Alexia murmured, hugging you just that bit tighter before she leaned back. She moved her hands from your back to softly cradling your face, her eyes jumping from each feature to feature, trying to commit her favourite art piece in the world to her memory. Then, she met your gaze, and the sincerity and earnest present there was breathtaking. "We'll be okay?"

It was asked in such a vulnerable tone, you couldn't help but smile down at her.

"We'll be okay, Ale."

Going into training the next day, there was a spring in your step. Alexia had stayed over at yours the previous night, near enough refusing to leave. That meant she was wearing the same trousers as the day before along with one of your sweaters that, to your amusement, was evidently slightly too small for her as the cuffs ended just shy of her wrists. Call it your revenge perhaps, but as you both arrived at training together, chatting freely with content smiles on your face, it felt like a new leaf had been turned.

Alexia had made many mistakes with you, that she knew. She also knew she had no more chances, so she was going to try her absolute hardest to never act like such a fool again, even if it killed her. However, the shy smile on your face when she bounded up to you after Jona demanded the team to get into pairs for 1-on-1 practice, was enough proof for her to realise that it wouldn't be such a shame to go out of this world as a result of your love.

She almost came to regret that though when you handed her ass to her on a plate with each of your attempts to get past her. Because, quite frankly, you did embarrass her. Crossing her sides and body-checking her and out-skilling her each time was satisfying to no end, and it was exactly what you needed really. At one point, there was an ounce of worry that perhaps Alexia would be annoyed, but that dissipated immediately when she would laugh and slap her own forehead each time she was outshone.

That tiny speck of worry was completely forgotten about when, after the last attempt of the day, Alexia ran up behind you and lifted you up off the ground with her arms around your torso. Her mouth found its way to your ear as she took a few steps whilst carrying you, squeezing you tightly once.

"Never embarrass me like that again." She murmured jokingly, fighting back a grin as you laughed unabashedly in her hold. Afterwards, she put you down and moved to walk closely beside you, heading back to the main building as Jona called the end of training.

"You're the one that partnered up with me, Ale." You nudged her in the side with your elbow, gazing up at her with an adoring look that had Alexia's heart jumping in her chest.

"Maybe, but I only have one thing to say."

"What's that?" You hummed.

"Thank god for Mariona." She murmured, smiling as you giggled and nodded.

That smile was wiped off her face when an arm flung around her shoulders not a second later.

"Thank god for who?"

"I don't need your bragging right now, Mario, you're ruining a nice moment."

"I made this nice moment happen, Ale, you better thank me properly soon."

With that, the islander left just as quickly as she had arrived. When Alexia noticed the teasing grin on your face at the interaction, she shoved at your shoulder with a grumble under her breath.

"She really got through to you, then?"

"Oh yeah, absolutely. She beat my ass."

#alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #woso community #mariona caldentey #woso one shot #alexia putellas #woso imagine #alexia putellas one shot

321 notes · View notes

fanaticsnail · 2 days

Note

i have to pick one? i have to pick one?!?!?!?!? -papers fly into the air and scatter down around me as i scramble to make a decision- asdlkjglkjgklfdsjgl oh. oh man. oh boy. oh boy howdy. oh man boy howdy. -begins pacing-

-comes back ten minutes later, a visible conspiracy-board-meme level of writing and string behind me- okay! a decision! has! probably! been made!! asldkjglkfdjg it totally didn't end up with carefully flipping a coin nine times between luffy, law, and kid. totally didn't involve. I 100% guarantee that no coins were not flipped in process >w> anyway

may i request. a luffy keese pls uwu (ALSO! CONGRATS ON THE MILESTONE!!! You well and truely deserve it; you bring such joy to the community with your presence and your writing just!!!!! Congrats!!! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) ) - @remisloves

The Kissing Booth: Luffy for Remisloves

Word Count: 700+

Notes: Hi @remisloves It's so hard picking one blorbo to come and kiss us. He's so fun to kiss, and I'm glad he's kissing you! Thank you so much for your beautiful compliments. I've adored getting to know you. Without further adieu, your kisses from the Straw-Hat man himself.

Back stiffening firmly and upright, you grip onto the base of the barstool for support in response to the immediacy of the events occurring in front of you. All you have are your four other senses, the shroud covering your eyes prohibiting your ability to see the situation occurring on the vacant barstool.

Straining to hear the circumstances sealing your fate, a fistful of berry flung itself deep into the glass jar beside you as the individual laughed enthusiastically. A high pitched voice called out in front of you, behind the individual who sat themselves down at your booth.

“You’re gonna spend your allowance here?” the angry, feminine voice called, “I thought you’d spend it on meat, Luffy!” Your guest laughed a playful snickered hiss through their teeth in response before gently reaching forward and clasping their hand around your wrist.

"Robin said she's payin' for dinner tonight," the voice called out over their shoulder, "And I wanna have a kiss! How cool is this? It's like they're here just for me!" You were taken aback by their enthusiasm, but attempted to collect yourself to remain as professional as one can be sitting on a booth made for kissing.

Your brows sprung up to the middle of your forehead as your eyes attempted to widen behind the mask to no avail. Expecting your lips to be immediately ravished and tainted by the mouth belonging to your guest, their actions seemed to halt as they gently rub a circle on your wrist with their thumb.

“Can I kiss you now?” his voice gently coaxed you in closer, “I just wanna make sure before I do. Don’t wanna do somethin’ you’re not comfy with or nothin’.” You cocked your head inquisitively to the side, a slow smile drawing up your features in response to his inquisition of your consent.

“You paid your Berry?” you asked him, prompting him to hum a huffed "mhmm" in affirmation. You grinned wider, adding a soft humming, “Then, I’m all yours.” He chuckled again in response, scooting the stool in closer towards you.

“Oh, that’s great!” you felt his hand travel up to cup your neck and draw you in closer, “Right, I’m goin’ in!”

That was all the warning you had before his lips eagerly sought out your own. He hummed in glee, his smile physically plastered against each skillful oscillation he drew against your mouth. He angled his chin in a soft circle, parting his lips and tasting your mouth with his tongue. Brushing against your own, he swirled the morsel within your mouth and retracted it to deepen his sultry and hungry kisses.

You were shocked at the intensity of his lips, but you kept up with every inch of his passion and matched his energy with ease. Gently reaching out your hands, he caught your wrist and drew it up to place against his shoulder while slipping closer towards you. His eagerness and enthusiasm never ceased with each passing moment.

His lips were partially chapped, his mouth tasting a combination of sweet and savory from the last assuming barbequed meat he consumed. He snickered into the kiss, slowly hooking his arms around your neck and coaxing you to leave the stool and join him on his feet.

“Luffy!” the voice again called behind him, “You can’t take them with you. They have to stay here!”

The individual pouted against your lips before growling in agitation, eagerly consuming your lips with a hungrier desperation than moments prior. The voice behind him again called out to you both.

“Luffy,” she sounded irritated, her sigh falling from her lips the longer yours were attached to this so called ‘Luffy’, “Zoro is still missing. Can we go get him? You can come back if they’re still here?” The person growled into your mouth, prompting you to laugh into his lips.

Finally breaking away, his hand gently caressed your cheek before his thumb caressed your bottom lip. Your lips parted in response, and you heard his breath exhale another soft snicker.

“I’m Monkey D Luffy,” he uttered in a soft, husky voice, “I’m gonna be king of the pirates some day.” You nod in response, your grin again growing and revealing your teeth at him. He huffed out a soft growl in response.

“Come find us at the end of the pier when your shift is done,” he ordered softly at you, gently caressing your hand and giving your fingers a gentle squeeze, “I’m the one in the straw hat, red vest, and likely eating a piece of meat.”

“I’ll find you, Monkey D Luffy,” you nod do him in confirmation, scrunching your nose playfully, and wave him off as he goes to find whoever ‘Zoro’ must be. He snickers at you in response, waving at you before looking between his hand and your eye covering: noticing you'd likely not see him do it.

#one piece #x reader #luffy #monkey d luffy #luffy x reader #monkey d luffy x reader #kissing booth event #follower milestone #one piece x reader #opla #opla fic #one piece live action #ask snail #snail answers #follower appreciation #kissing

140 notes · View notes

historicalbeauties · 11 hours

Text

Amy Appelhans Gubser could see the Farallon Islands from her house on clear days, and would always joke with her husband that she could swim there.

5 years ago, the nurse and grandmother who lives in Pacifica started to work on this crazy idea. Gubser sought out open-water swimming mentors for guidance and even got resources through the Marathon Swimming Federation, yet things never lined up until this year.

On May 11, in 17 hours, 3 minutes, she finally made her vision come true and completed the 29.6-mile swim from the Golden Gate Bridge to the Farallon Islands.

Gubser has been around the ocean since she was 10 years old. She became an ocean lifeguard in high school and college, and also swam at the University of Michigan, yet after graduation didn’t get back into the water for 24 years.

When Gubser finally did return, she was doing more open-water swimming, for instance, swims across Lake Tahoe and Monterey Bay. The woman would always see the Farallon Islands from her house and would dream about one day swimming there.

The outbound route to the Farallon Islands is known for going against the currents, and only 5 people had previously completed the trek in the inbound direction, from the Farallons to the Golden Gate. According to the Marathon Swimmers Foundation, Gubser is the only one to complete that specific route without a wetsuit. Before her, two men successfully completed the swim in 2014, and there were also 3 recorded failures between 2012 and 2015.

The location is also known for white sharks. “The elephant in the room is white sharks, and they were in the back of my mind at all times during the swim. We didn’t take the shark thing lightly – I had a savvy crew that kept watch for them from a boat and kayak. They were ready to jump into the water to help me if I needed, but we had no shark sightings the whole time,” said Gubser. Fortunately, during the journey, she encountered several seals yet no sharks.

Another obstacle was the water temperature. She had trained to swim in cold water, but the water got as cold as 46 degrees Fahrenheit that day and it was something the woman didn’t expect and wasn’t ready for. A wetsuit probably would have helped here, but no matter the warmth and added buoyancy, she wasn’t wearing it.

“Wetsuits are a great piece of equipment, especially for people that are starting out in open water. But I follow the Marathon Swim Federation rules and the open water swim world rules that, for the last 150 years, have been the same. Which is a swimsuit, a cap, some form of goggles, earplugs and a nose clip,” explained Gubser. “When you wear a wetsuit your skin rubs against the material, and the last thing that I really wanted was for my skin to bleed near a shark island.”

The 55-year-old grandmother of two with a third on the way was very happy about her accomplishment when, no matter all the challenges, including intense fog in the Pacific Ocean all along the way, she finally reached the Farallon Islands at around 8:30 p.m. that night.

“For 17 hours, I had no idea where I was, what was going on. I had a thought bubble around me that only allowed us to see 100 meters in any direction. I went into a meditative state. There were some 30-minute time intervals that passed very quickly. Others seemed like they were 300 hours,” she explained.

“My whole family is so relieved, because I have been talking about this thing for five years, and my husband will be the first to tell you he’s just grateful it’s done,” shared Gubser. “I hope this story inspires somebody to not be challenged by a number [like] their age or their weight. I mean, all of my body got me across that. That’s pretty impressive.”

#athlete #wow #swimming

101 notes · View notes

petermorwood · 3 days

Text

@nimblermortal sent me this last week:

A second blade weapon became increasingly common in the later Viking Age. It does not have a formal name, being often referred to as a fighting-knife or battle-knife, and it was essentially a development of the one-handed, long seax knife of the Migration Period. A single-edged blade with a thick back that added weight to a short, stabbing blow, it seems to have been intended as a back-up weapon. By the tenth century, battle-knives had elaborate scabbards that were worn horizontally along the belt, allowing them to be drawn across the body from behind a shield if the sword was gone; a variant hung down at an angle from an elaborate harness. It seems they may also have been worn on the back - again for a swift, over-the-shoulder draw. Children of Ash and Elm by Neil Price @petermorwood (Mr Morwood! Mr Morwood!) I found an archaeologist claiming people were doing over-the-shoulder draws! Would you care to weigh in?

*****

Would I ever! That's a button well pushed. But things got odd when I tried, because as soon as I'd written even the smallest reply and saved to Draft, this happened:

Letting it stand would have seemed like I was trying to avoid comments, corrections or criticism, but despite poking around in Settings there was no way to turn things on. It was only by cut-and-pasting @nimblermortal's entire original as a Quote starting a new post that the problem was resolved.

Anyone else encountered this?

Anyway, on with the lecture response. :->

*****

As regards Back-Carry / Back-Draw of "battle-knives", I'm not convinced.

("Battle-knife" is a term I've never seen in connection with any Viking Age weapon. What's the Old Norse for it? German "Kriegsmesser" (war-knife) refers to something much bigger from 500 years later, also not back-carried or back-drawn - which from here on will be BD / BC.)

To get where he is now, a full professor, Neil Price will have defended his PhD, and should know such a statement as "It seems they may..." will need evidence to support it.

That phrase is easy to write, as is "According to legend..." and "It is said..." However these are IMO default History Channel phrases, with all the authenticity that implies. None of them actually PROVE what they're speculating.

"Experiments conducted by museum staff wearing authentic armour reveal that IT SEEMS medieval knights could use smartphones."

But does it prove medieval knights USED smartphones? See what I mean?

*****

I first asked if anyone had actual proof of BC / BD on Netsword almost 30 years ago, and to date there's been nothing. I've also posted about it quite a lot on Tumblr, so being poked with this particular stick is no surprise. :->

The quotation from "Children of Ash and Elm" is the first time I've heard of a trained archaeologist making a claim for BC / BD, and the odd part is that Prof. Price also states the weapon was intended for "...a short, stabbing blow" - which means wearing it horizontally in front makes far more sense. From that position it can be drawn far faster and with less telegraphed intent than "...on the back - again for a swift, over-the-shoulder draw."

Reaching up for any weapon carried across the back, whether long or short, is a bigger movement - and thus less "swift" - than snatching out the same weapon worn at the hip or across the front at waist level, especially if - as he suggests - that move is masked behind a shield (or for that matter a cloak, a door, or a half-turned torso...)

Try both moves in front of a mirror with a ruler or even a length of dowel, and you'll understand.

With a weapon-hilt visible behind one shoulder or just a cross-belt suggesting something slung out of sight, what's a Norse warrior going to think when his potential opponent reaches up there? At a moment of hot words and high tension, will he wait while an itchy back gets scratched or until an attack happens?

The explosive violence described in sagas suggests not.

If Prof. Price has solid proof for his BC / BD notion in the form of artefacts or art - and it'll need more than a one-off example - I'll be very pleased to finally see some "show me" evidence.

(It won't do anything for longswords of 500 years later, of course, though I bet the uncritical back-carry brigade would leap on it regardless.)

But without that evidence, I'm taking "it seems" with a wary pinch of salt.

*****

There's a weird internet fixation about BC / BD (which are NOT the same thing) and an equally weird need to show that back-draw "works", whether with hooks under the guard and a leather condom at the point...

... or by being open most of the way down one side.

Neither are real-world historical, so let's see how they work in fantasy.

IMO they're not appropriate there either, because the designers are so eager to provide working BC / BD that they ignore the main function of a scabbard, which is to carry the weapon in something which protects people from the weapon's edges, and the weapon from the elements.

Real scabbards for real swords went to some trouble over that. They protected people, including the wearer, with a completely enclosed wooden, leather and / or metal case, and protected the blades by having them fit into their case well enough that inclement weather stayed out.

This fitting could involve metal collars (Japanese habaki), or tight-gripping lanolin-rich fleece linings, or leather flaps, caps and rain-guards mounted on hilt or scabbard-throat. Real scabbards didn't have exposed metal and weren't open-sided rainfall buckets, because the priorities of actual sword users were very different to those of back-carry fans.

Given the number of posts I've seen about the technical side of fantasy world-building - history, geography, even geology and meteorology - I think this difference is worth noting.

*****

The first time I recall seeing back-carry mentioned in a historical-not-fantasy context was in "Growing Up in the Thirteenth Century", © Alfred Duggan 1962. Here's the extract in question:

Unfortunately Duggan - though according to his Wikipedia entry "His novels are known for meticulous historical research" - doesn't give any cited source for this; his introduction to the book says:

I know the feeling! :->

I'd still trust him more than some modern historical writers who seem over-willing to add a touch of fantasy speculation / interpretation if it rounds out something inconclusive, makes the history more interesting or chimes with a personal agenda.

"Accurate" is better than "interesting", and "I don't know" is better than making stuff up.

*****

To repeat: I've yet to see any museum-exhibit or manuscript-illumination examples of BC / BD ever done For Historically Real with Western European swords, especially the hand-and-a-half longswords on which modern back-draw fans seem fixated.

A seax, scramasax or just plan sax is shorter, but yet again, this is the first time I've read anything even remotely scholarly about them or their later Viking-age version (saxes were associated more with Saxons than Vikings, guess why?) being BC / BD.

By contrast, there are at least three art instances of saxes worn horizontally, on 10th century crosses at Middleton Church, Yorkshire:

The art is backed up by surviving examples with scabbard-fittings still in place, indicating how they were worn. Here's one example, from the Metropolitan Museum, New York which makes that very obvious.

The little decorative masks (originally part of the top of the scabbard, now corroded onto the blade) are clearly meant to be This Side Up, and also show that this scabbard was This Side Out for a right-handed draw, since there's no detail on the back.

There's a similar fancy-front / plain-back / right-hand-use leather sax scabbard at the Jorvik Centre in York.

There's only a single photograph of this bigger one - 54cm (21.5 in) overall - from the Cleveland Museum of Art, with no way to see if the L-shaped scabbard mount is decorated on just one or both sides. However it does indicate the weapon was meant for horizontal wear.

I've also flipped the website photo to show right-hand use, because "It seems..." (hah!) more probable. Here's why I did it:

For most of history being left-handed was unusual, a disapproved-of aberration and the origin of the word sinister.

Left-handers were useless in any formation from Ancient Greece through Ancient Rome to the Saxon and Viking period where the shields of a phalanx, testudo or shield-wall had to overlap for mutual support.

In the Middle Ages, both the specialised armour and the layout of jousting courses were almost 100% right-hand only.

Most surviving swords with asymmetrical hilts, such as swept-hilt rapiers, are made to for right hands not left.

Even nowadays many weapons - including the current British Army rifle (SA-80 / L85/A2) - are set for right-handers only.

*****

The longest saxes are called Langseax (surprise) though this may be a modern-ish term. Here's one from the British Museum, the so-called "Seax of Beagnoth"...

...which is 72 cm (28.5 in) total / 55cm (22 in) blade.

That's about the same as a Roman gladius (another sword never back-worn despite its convenient size) and is a good 25-30cm (10-12 in) shorter than the average "proper" sword of the same period, which means it could be drawn over-shoulder...

However the layout of its runic engraving shows it was almost certainly meant to be worn horizontally As Per Usual.

*****

And now we've come all the way back around to Prof. Price's claim that Vikings did BC / BD with their battle-knives.

Such a claim needs proof.

Please, show me some.

#arms and armour #back-carry #seax #scramasax #long knife #short sword #left-handed weapons #research #evidence

75 notes · View notes

pixelyssa · 2 days

Text

★彡 reanswering an old ask below:

as a high r3str1cter here’s what i do:

★彡DRY F4ST!NG: 7pm-11am (i have water/meds/gum only if necessary)

It is beneficial when done for 16+ hours. and the best part is we do it in our sleep every night!

dry means no f00d, no water. since starting this, i’ve noticed less bloating, my “morning sk1nny” lasts longer. i’ve gotten used to my dry f4st times and no longer overe@t at night, which also makes me feel good in the morning. I have acid reflux, and e@ting before bed triggers it. It also triggers, slower met@bolism, difficulty digesting and can disturb your sleep! So even if you aren’t comfortable dry f4sting before bed, atleast not having solid f00ds a couple hours before bed helps, and you will see/feel a difference.

If you tend to get cravings at night, this may be hard at first. here’s how i stopped mine:

(warning, im delulu hehe)

-i always remind myself how i feel after the fact. or the morning after. (guilty, embarrassed, weak) and eventually i was strong enough to let that feeling take over.

-watch a mukbang or e4ting challenge for the f00d im craving and chugging water until im full lol

-i have insomnia so i have an as needed medication for sleep that knocks me out. if you also struggle to sleep, i def recommend finding ur cure. whether its rain sounds, complete darkness, shutting ur devices off, or melatonin (PRO TIP: do not buy melatonin gummies. Do not consume the 5mg or 10mg or 20mg supplements of melatonin. when our bodies lack melatonin, we only need .5mg MAX, which is sold in pill form or can be prescribed by your doctor! anything higher will just make you immune and it will stop working eventually, it also will make it difficult to get up in the morning.)

★彡COFFEE

-i drink coffee as soon as my dry fast ends. It suppresses my app3t1te for a while and it helps my bowels hehe (i also need the caffeine to get me through the day)

-i HATE black coffee, i prefer brown stevia and a splash of cream/almond milk. but whatever you like!

-i usually have 1-2 cups to start my day.

-if you don’t like coffee, tea is also good. there are certain types that can do different things for you ofc, i like green tea for the caffeine and metabolism boost (same reason i drink coffee). but i’ve heard good things about ginger tea, mint tea, etc. (if youre a tea person i don’t need to even explain, you know.)

★彡SAVING C4L0RI3S

-i try save them for the end of the day, that way when its dinner time and i’m hungry, I’m not feeling like i need to find something small to fit the rest of my lim1t. (the coffee helps with this step)

-i stay distracted and i really worked on self discipline to be able to get through this one lol.

★彡CHOOSE FILLING F00DS OVER FILLER F00DS

-for example, 2 oreos and juice is the same amount of c4lories as my chocolate chip pancakes r3cipe. cookies aren’t filling, you’ll just want more. theyre a filler. whereas 3 chocolate chip pancakes with berries and syrup is filling and satisfies the same craving.

-if you like to use ur c4lories for snacks that’s completely fine, im not judging you <3 it just leads to overe@ting for me.

-i usually have 1 meal and 1-2 snacks throughout the day. I have my google doc link ready to go if anyone 18+ would like to see, comment and let me know youre of age and ill message u it (DONT DM ASKING I WONT SEE IT) <3

★彡M3TABOLISM DAYS

-by now you’ve probably heard the term “meta” or “metab” day. most people will do this once a week, it is basically where you spike your l1mit for the day. constantly lowering your intake will slow your metabolism and eventually you’ll start maintaining, or plateauing. This is to help boost your metab! Its also good for holidays, or days where you have plans involving f00d. It’s hard at first, but if you’ve been stuck at the same w3ight, its good to start doing this.

-i do one once a week, but i’ve seen people do them in 10 day increments or even twice a month.

-a friend of mine told me metabolism days should be -200 of your bmr (you can calculate your bmr online) that would make my metab day l1mit around 800-900 c@l. (which is 300+ higher than my normal limit, incase you want to just add to your current intake instead of calculating your bmr) it should be a close to a “normal” l1mit.

-there are chances of g4ining, of course, from metab days. don’t shy away from it if you feel too scared to g4in, this was my mistake and i was stuck at 102 for WAY TOO LONG. metab helped me break 100, and now im almost at my next goal. Metabolism days are for everyone, it’s not just sk1nny people who plateau and demolish their metabolisms. try it out, its a nice treat <3

★彡WATER INTAKE & VITAMINS

we should be drinking over 2L of water a day (you can google and calculate your specific amount needed per day, im just a girl)

-drink your necessary amount THROUGHOUT THE DAY. it is sm water to have in one sitting so the only possible way to get it all in is to have it all day. tt’ll make you feel better too.

-this is something i struggle with, i just don’t enjoy water. I’m on and off with when i enjoy it and when i can’t get myself to drink it. If anyone else struggles, i’ve realized that ice cold water is easiest for me to drink.

-water gives the illusion of feeling full, it literally keeps you alive, and obviously sm more lol

-i take vitamin d, vitamin c, calcium and a women’s multi vitamin for metabolism every day. the water is important for helping my body absorb these. Look into other vitamins but these are what i take based on my deficiencies.

-i take gummy vitamins, they have more c4lories than a pill, but its like a sweet treat after my meal so i’ll probably stick to gummies <3 make sure you chew them all the way through if you get these!

★彡IVE BEEN DOING THIS WAY TOO LONG Our b0dies are all different. what works for me might not work for you, and that’s fine, love! I’m sharing what i do because there is a lot of general knowledge in my routines, so i thought i’d share.

#3d f4st #th1nsp1ration #pro for me not for thee #eating disoder trigger warning #3d not sheeran #3dtumblr #tw 3d vent #4n4blr #4n4m1a #4n4t1ps #4n4tips #@n@ diary #@na rules #@na vent #@na motivation #3d but not sheeren #ana is my friend

49 notes · View notes

bats-and-birds-24 · 23 hours

Text

Chapter 8:

Tim woke up actually feeling refreshed for once. Looking around the room he once again realized that he was in the league of assassins. Leave it to him to somehow manage to get a good night's sleep in the enemy's guest room, but not in his own bed.

He gets up and notices that he was wearing a delicate silk green and gold pajama set, something he distinctly remembers not going to sleep in. His stomach churned uncomfortably, the league probably changed him while he was unconscious, meaning that they now knew all the tools he had in his utility belt.

Tim grimaced as he hobbled over to the table where his uniform, now clean, neatly sat. Rummaging through his utility belt, he couldn't help but notice that all his tools had been cleaned and neatly arranged. Some had even been replaced with better league versions.

He sighed, Talia must have had the servants go through everything. He wanted to say something, but decides that it would be safer to bite his tongue while being a guest at one of the best assassin groups in the world.

Noticing a bathroom in the corner of his eye, he figures that he may as well clean up, along with checking that scar on his abdomen.

He grabs a towel and his now clean uniform and heads inside.

"What the fuck Bruce." Dick's tone was flat, monotone, but inside, he was seething.

Bruce noticing his eldest, grimaced for the argument that was to come, "I'm not going to defend myself-"

"You better not," Dick cuts in, "what's all this about losing Tim?"

Bruce rubs his face, "Tim's tracker turned off at the league of shadows base on Sullivan Island."

Dick released a breath he didn't know he was holding in. It was typical for either he or Tim to turn off the tracker when they felt that B was becoming too overbearing.

"B, Tim probably just turned off the tracker on his phone because he knew that you would get all paranoid." He replies, rubbing at his temples.

Bruce was getting frustrated now, "Not the tracker in his phone Dick, I'm talking about the one in the soles of his boots. He doesn't know about that one yet."

Dick could feel his blood pressure rise at this, "I'm sorry, are you telling me that you secretly chipped Tim?"

Bruce's tension was increasing now as well, "That's not the biggest issue here-"

Only to be cut off by Dick muttering, "Of course it isn't." under his breath.

Bruce took a deep breath to calm himself,and through gritted teeth, he replies, "Because, Tim may have gotten himself kidnapped."

Everything was silent for a moment as a Dick digested that piece of information. His rage began to come back in full force.

How could he push away another Robin, had he learned nothing after Jason's passing? However, he pushed all of that information aside to focus on the bigger picture, they needed to get Tim back, and fast, if Bruce was correct. The league of shadows were considered high threat level villains for a reason after all.

Dick lets out a sigh and rubs his eyes, "I'll suit up and head to the base, you get the DNA kit and meet me there."

The two separated to do what needs to be done.

Jason was having a fairly normal day with Cass and Damian when he noticed Talia enter the room. She looked tired. She was still as put together as ever, but the weariness in her eyes gave it away.

Cass looked at him, she must have noticed it as well. She nodded at him and scoops Damian up in her arms, ignoring his protests, and leaves for the training grounds, leaving him and Talia alone.

Jason starts, "Alright Talia, what's going on?"

Talia looks away, "Nothing you need to worry about."

"I refuse to accept that." Talia could see the glint in his eyes which showed that he won't be backing down anytime soon.

Might as well get this over with.

"The current Robin, Tim Drake, has come to look for you in the league."

The ground seemed to sway beneath his feet. Jason stumbled over to the nearest chair and flopped down. His mind was going a mile a minute. What would the kid who replaced him want to see him for?

Bruce had to be behind this, he must have known that he came back to life. He wasn't ready to meet Batman again, his father again.

"I want to meet the kid." It came out as a hoarse whisper, but Talia could hear the conviction behind it.

She looks at him and replies, "Alright then, you two will meet tomorrow evening." Jason simply nods.

As she turned and left the room, she couldn't help but think that this was good, they were always bound to meet, but at the very least, she would now have control over how.

40 notes · View notes

loversatthegreatdivide · 7 hours

Text

Heavy Lies the Heart - Part 6

Masterlist

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!OC Word Count: 2.6k Tropes: mutual pining, fluff, angst with a happy ending, royalty Warnings: (eventual) canon death Summary: Two second-borns looking for direction meet by chance. Can they find purpose in each other, or will circumstance keep them apart? A/N: First of all, writing as Whistledown is rough. Second, I'm glad that it seems like everyone is liking this story so far! I had a lot of fun with this chapter, so hopefully you'll enjoy it too!

Dearest Gentle Reader,

This author hardly knows where to begin, with last nights ball so abound with secrets and scandals.

The young ladies of the ton never shine brighter than in the darkness of the evening. Yet last nights events have shown that, while some gleam as brightly as the stars, there are others whose light shines far dimmer then the rest.

Penelope Featherington, out now for her third season in the marriage mart, is one such dim light. Miss Featherington, who was so certain that she would be unable to find a husband on her own, enlisted the help of Mister Colin Bridgerton. And while we all knew Miss Featherington's hopes of finding a husband were slim at best, this recent scandal will certainly make any further hopes disappear. Whatever faint glow Miss Featherington may have once possessed has surely now gone out.

But Penelope Featherington was not the only scandal we witnessed unfold.

Her Royal Highness, Princess Beatrice shown brilliantly on her second appearance of the season. The young princess garnered much attention from the members of the ton, but none moreso than Mister Benedict Bridgerton.

Having shared her first dance of the season with Mister Bridgerton, it was clear to this author that sparks were flying. Their shared looks were hardly subtle, and one has to wonder how two relative strangers found themselves, by all appearances, so well acquainted.

The princess danced five times in total, sharing a scandalous three with Mister Bridgerton. Their lack of proprietary and the princesses clear favoritism shocked many of the ton, but this author cannot help but applaud their boldness.

A royal falling for a commoner is hardly a new story. However, with the crowns stiff traditions and the rumored strict parenting of the Prince Regent, will this tale end in tragedy? Is there to be a royal wedding in our future, or will circumstance keep these two lovebirds apart?

This author, as ever, eagerly awaits to see what unfolds.

---

Benedict once again found himself slumped deeply onto the settee in the Bridgerton drawing room. His arms lay crossed over his chest as he looked anywhere but at Anthony, whose scowl had made an unwelcome return after its brief, but welcome, absence.

"What in God's name were you thinking?" he asked roughly, brandishing the latest copy of Lady Whistledown in his hand. The rest of the family, excluding the two youngest members, sat around the room, with expressions ranging from sympathetic and worried, to extremely uncomfortable. "Of all our siblings, I thought you the least likely to cause trouble this season. I thought you had more sense than this Benedict."

Eloise scowled at the veiled accusation. She looked to Francesca, whose only reaction was to stare blankly at the floor until the hostility inevitably subsided.

"It was quite a surprise--did you not tell me yourself last night that it was your first time even seeing the princess?" Colin asked.

Anthony turned his scowl on his younger brother, "You are not off the hook yet either--while our reputation may not have been effected by your actions, poor Miss Featherington's is all but ruined thanks to you."

Colin looked away from his brother, a look of guilt clear on his face. Unnoticed, Eloise's expression mirrored his.

"However, that will have to wait," Anthony turned his attention back to Benedict, "At present, our biggest concern is what in the world possessed our dear brother to act so foolhardy, and what is to be done about it."

"Now, perhaps we can all calm down for a moment," Violet suggested, smiling as she attempted to defuse the situation.

"Yes Anthony, your mother's right," Kate agreed, "We have not even heard what Benedict has to say about it--this could all just be a misunderstanding."

Everyone turned their attention to Benedict, eagerly awaiting his response.

He had another choice in front of him. Either he could downplay the situation to the best of his ability, hoping to keep his family in the dark about the full extent of his relationship with Beatrice. This seemed at least somewhat doable; it was unlikely any of them suspected he was taking late night promenades with an unchaperoned princess.

The other option was simply to tell them everything. His family did seem to have a knack for discovering secrets that its members would rather keep hidden. He knew it was only a matter of time before they learned everything; and all the more likely, given his desire to be with Beatrice. It would be rather obvious he had lied if he continued to pursue her publicly.

Benedict sighed, sitting up as he clasped his hands in front of him. He looked at Anthony, who stared back exactingly.

"Alright fine, you've caught me. I suppose there is no point in lying about it now: Beatrice and I have been seeing each other in secret, and we have become quite...attached," he admitted.

There was a silence throughout the room as his family stared back at him in shock and horror. In an instant, the silence was filled with the roar of multiple voices shouting out at once--including two that had, until this moment, been eavesdropping quietly in the next room.

"You've been doing what?"

"Have you gone mad?"

"Did you just use the princesses first name? Just how close are the two of you, Benedict?"

"What does attached me? Brother, you didn't..."

"Heaven help us, how will her majesty react to all this?"

"If the two of you marry, will that make Benedict a prince?"

"What? Does that mean we would have to call him your highness? Because I absolutely refuse."

The jumbled voices mixed together until Benedict could hardly make out what was being said. Finally he stood, throwing his hands out.

"Alright enough!" he shouted, quelling the storm of questions and concerns, "I know it was...unwise to meet a young lady unchaperoned, but I can assure you the time was spent on conversation--nothing more," he emphasized, "I was...unaware of her station when these meetings began. She had kept it a secret, and I only learned of her title when she was presented at the ball last night--though I will admit to knowing she was likely of higher rank."

He ran a hand through his think, brown hair as he looked to the floor.

"I have no idea what is to be done now, if anything can be done but," he sighed, "That being said, it is my intention to pursue her...as far as we are permitted to go," he looked back up at them, "I...I love her."

The room was silent once more, no one quite sure how to respond to his bold declaration. Benedict swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, uncomfortable in the uncharacteristically quiet room.

"Oh, Benedict my dear," his mother finally spoke. Her voice was a mixture of happiness and sympathy, clearly unsure what to make of the situation or how best to advice him.

Benedict looked down, "If you'll excuse me." Without waiting for a response, he quickly made his way out of the drawing room; the wide eyes of his family following him as he went.

---

Beatrice sat, stiff and silent, as the queen sipped her tea in the chair opposite her. Dread filled her as she waited for her grandmother to speak: To reprimand, to yell, to show some sign at all as to what she was thinking. Be she waited in vain, the queen seeming content in leaving the words unspoken as Beatrice's heart threatened to give out with every passing second.

Queen Charlotte had of course received the latest copy of Whistledown that morning, reading it with haste as she always did. Not that she had needed Whistledown to tell her what she had seen with her own eyes. After her first dance, the queen's eyes hardly wavered from Beatrice. Charlotte had watched her granddaughter like a bird of pray stalking a field mouse, observing her every move, her every expression and gesture.

Their carriage ride home had been eerily quiet. Charlotte was hardly known for keeping her opinions to herself, yet she had said nothing to Beatrice the entire trip back to Buckingham House. Now, having not spoken since their arrival at the ball the night before, Beatrice grew more and more anxious of what would be said when that silence was finally broken.

Her grandmother set her teacup down with a clank, and Beatrice sat up as straight as a board.

"Beatrice," Charlotte spoke at last.

"Y-yes, grandmama?"

"You know I am no fool." It was a statement, not a question.

"Ah...yes, grandmama."

"I am unaware how it is you've managed to spend time with that man without notice, and I suspect I would not be happy to know. However what I do know, is that whatever has been transpiring between the two of you stops now."

Beatrice looked down shamefully, "Yes, grandmama."

"Your father will no doubt have heard the news, and is assuredly on his way here to scold you severely. I suspect he will likely insist on you leaving Buckingham House immediately."

"But--" Beatrice began to argue, only to be silenced by a piercing stare from the queen.

There was a long moment of quiet as Charlotte ran her hands over the small, fluffy dog in her lap. She seemed to think something over.

"Tell me, what are your intentions with this Benedict Bridgerton? A passing fancy is well enough for the common crowd, but royalty hardly has such a luxury. Our every move is scrutinized--you moreso than others as the daughter of the future king."

"It is not a--" Beatrice was clearly upset, but willed herself to stop and take a breath, "I know father would never approve, but it is my deepest desire to be with him. I love him, grandmama, and I...well I don't care what father thinks, or anyone else for that matter." She held her head up as she attempted to look resolute.

The queen quickly took another sip from her teacup, hiding the slight smirk that had formed at the corner of her lips.

"I see," was her only reply.

Silence fell between them once more as they awaited the inevitable arrival of the Prince Regent. The queen's face was a mask that hid her true feelings, while Beatrice's face betrayed her renewed feelings of dread. Her grandmother may not have been harsh--a miracle if there ever was one--but her father would most certainly not have the same composure.

---

"The absolute indignity of it all--the indecency!"

George IV, Prince Regent of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, the future king, and Beatrice's father, paced the floor of the lavish drawing room as he ranted on and on. His displeasure with the situation had been expressed in at least one hundred different ways already, yet he seems to always have more to say.

"Papa, if you would only listen--" His daughter pleaded, but to no avail.

"Listen? As I listened when you requested to stay at Buckingham house for the season? As I listened when you promised me nothing of consequence would occur? As I listened when you assured me that you would behave as a princess should?"

"It was only dancing papa, nothing more!"

"Then why is there word across London that you've been having secret trysts with this man--this Bridgerton--since you arrived!"

Beatrice stood, her fist balled at her sides, "That is a lie! Whistledown has made everyone believe something untoward has taken place between us, but that is untrue!"

Queen Charlotte, who sat watching silently from the sidelines, eyed her granddaughter. Whether or not she believed her, she said nothing.

"So you would have me believe there is nothing between the two of you then? That you and he have no attachment?" George asked skeptically.

"I," Beatrice hesitated, "I would not say that is entirely the case."

Her father's face went red with rage as a tense air filled the room.

"You are to return to Warwick House immediately," the prince ordered through gritted teeth.

Beatrice shifted in place, before looking her father in the eyes with as much courage as she could muster, "I...I will not."

"I beg your pardon?" George stared at his daughter in disbelief.

"I, I wish to stay, and," she swallowed, "And I wish for Benedict Bridgerton and I to be allow to court."

Charlotte's eyebrow raised in interest, her gaze returning to her son as she waited to hear his reply. George was nearly dumbstruck at the request. It was a rare occasion that his youngest daughter ever spoke back or questioned his authority--for her to do both in one sentience was practically unheard of.

"You, I--How dare you ask--"

"You allowed Charlotte to choose her husband, why should I be allowed any less?" Beatrice questioned, feeling emboldened with every word.

"The situation with your sister was quite different, as you are well aware. And at the very least she had the good sense to choose a prince!" her father reminded her loudly.

Beatrice scowled, "That does not change the fact that she refused the marriage you arranged for her in favor of one she chose for herself! And did you yourself not try to take a commoner for a bride? How can you scorn me my love when you out of everyone should understand my feelings?"

"Love?" George repeated, clearly on the verge of another hours-long lecture.

"Alright, I believe I have heard quite enough," Queen Charlotte cut in, standing as she looked to her son.

"Mother--"

"Enough, Georgie," she commanded, and, despite his position as regent, he obeyed, "You have already agreed to allow Beatrice to stay at Buckingham House--so she shall stay."

"But I--"

Charlotte raised her hand, "I am not done. In addition, I would have you consider the request your daughter has made from you."

"What? I would never--"

"It is your decision of course, you are the Prince Regent and thus have the final say on all royal marriages. However, I implore you to consider the misconduct and scandals you and your family have already brought to this, the noblest of houses."

"That is hardly--"

"Frankly dear, the people dislike you. Allowing Princess Charlotte to marry the man she chose was perhaps the one thing you've done so far that has won you any manner of good will from the people. Perhaps allowing Princess Beatrice, a current darling of the ton, to do the same will have a similar effect on the rather poor image the people have of you."

George stood silent, stunned at his mother's stance on the issue. Beatrice looked between the two of them, just as surprised. She hadn't a clue as to why her grandmother seemed to be championing her relationship with Benedict, but she would hardly complain. Her grandmother was perhaps the only hope Beatrice had of convincing her father to agree to her wishes.

"I," George paused, "I will take it under consideration, mother."

"That is all I ask. It is, as I said, your choice to make," Queen Charlotte smiled, "Though you should consider quickly--we will be expected to make a statement of some sort soon enough, lest the rumors grow wild and out of control."

"Yes, mother," he replied, his anger all but deflated in his mother's overbearing presence.

"Wonderful," Charlotte turned to Beatrice, "Now, shall we then, my dear? I believe I would enjoy hearing some music after all this noise."

Beatrice responded quickly, hoping to leave the negative atmosphere permeating the room as soon as possible, "Ah! Yes of course, grandmama!"

Queen Charlotte moved elegantly out of the drawing room, with Beatrice following close behind. This left George alone, standing awkwardly in a stiff, unpleasant silence. He huffed, shaking his head and grumbling to himself as he exited the room soon after.

----------

Tags: @empressnatsume @sarahskywalker-amidala @may-and-lay @asterizee @g4ns3y @bubblegumcat229 @mhmoony

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x oc #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #heavy lies the heart #my writing #loversatthegreatdivide

28 notes · View notes

writingquestionsanswered · 2 days

Note

I have a question about publishing, especially in the YA or New Adult genre. Friends and I read a book series recently where the books after the 1st were kinda sloppily written, and I saw that each book was published a year after the other. It happened again on this other book series I'm reading. And it made me wonder if the problem behind this is that some authors HAVE to publish once a year and can't devote time to editing as they otherwise would. (I'm really not saying this to be mean btw)

Subsequent Books in Series Seem Sloppy

I would be curious to know whether these books are self-published or traditionally published. It matters, so I'll answer for both.

In the Case of Self-Published Books - When you self-publish, the only publishing timeline you have to meet is your own, so you wouldn't have a situation where the author "has" to publish once every year and can't devote time to editing. There are a lot of opinions as to how often self-published authors should publish, and since it's common for traditionally published authors to publish every year or so, it's common for self-published authors to aspire to a similar timeline. However, that shouldn't preclude a self-published author from doing the necessary self-editing and/or hiring a professional editor. The truth is, many self-published authors publish two or three books per year or more, and their books are still well-edited.

Having said that... the harsh reality of self-publishing is a lot of people go into it hoping they're going to have the next big TikTok sensation, so they invest thousands of dollars into their book for editing, cover design, interior design, formatting, promotional materials, and more. Then, the book doesn't sell as well as they'd hoped and they don't make back the money they invested. They may find themselves in a situation where they simply can't afford to hire a professional editor for the second and third book, but they put them out to complete the series and in hopes of making back some of the money they lost on book one.

In the Case of Traditionally Published Books - When you traditionally publish, you do have a timeline set by the publisher, but it's unlikely a publisher would put out an unedited or poorly edited book just to stick with a publishing timeline. Also, traditional publishing houses have in-house editors, so it's not like the author is editing completely on their own. Obviously they do self-edits, and they make the necessary edits suggested by the editor, but it's not like the author would come up against their deadline, turn in the unedited draft, and that goes straight to print.

Having said that... I do think it's worth noting that many readers and industry experts feel there has been a substantial decline in the editing quality of traditionally published books over the years. I'm definitely in the camp of people who've noticed this trend, and I subscribe to the theory that it's just another sad check mark in the column of unbridled capitalism. Publishers aren't putting out books because they love the written word or because they want to encourage literacy... they publish books because they want to make a profit, and like any business, they want to make the biggest profit possible. In today's constantly shifting landscape--where self-publishers are putting out million-dollar best sellers, and where TikTok can launch a book so far into the stratosphere that books two and three could be moldy copies of a 1970s phone book and they'd still sell a million copies--traditional publishers are cutting corners where they feasibly can in order to maximize profit, and those cut corners usually impact product quality.

Fortunately, there are still loads and loads of well-edited, high quality traditionally and self-published books hitting the market every year, so while you may find sloppy subsequent books in a series more often now than you used to, hopefully you'll still find more well-edited books than not. :)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

#wqaadvice

34 notes · View notes

jellyfishoreo1206 · 2 days

Note

You can ignore this if you want but!! I have an idea for a request: Gavril and mc trying to make homemade cheese together. Whether Mc already knows how to make cheese or not can be up to you!

Making Cheese with Gavril

Notes: I'M BACK, I SWEAR GUYS I AM NOT DEAD. Seriously I'm so sorry for leaving y'all w/o anything, my motivation to write anything had disappeared and finals bombarding me SUCKKKED. BUT I'M FINALLY FREE, RAHHHHHHH!!!! Anyway I was reminded of this one ask Part got last year with a cheese maker reader/food taster (I couldn't find it but it's somewhere on their dash, so credit to the person who asked the ask!) and I thought why not use that? Enjoy reading! (He may be OOC guys, it's been a while since I last wrote T~T)

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol in here (idk if Gavril drinks alcohol but considering the crap he goes through, that boy needs a DRINK)

----

Working as a cheese maker is a lot of work, as simple as it may seem to others outside of the profession. Physically demanding your attention each and every day. But that was part of the job either way. Doesn't mean it can't be fun, especially if you're a fanatic of cheese.

Tomorrow was your day off, your muscles finally being able to relax from the constant lifting, stirring, and pressing that they had to endure. You had a pretty good idea of what to do when you came back from work, and that was to relax until the early hours of the morning.

It was getting dark; the sun setting as it casted its long shadows onto the ground below. You felt yourself sinking into the couch cushion, the nerves of your limbs becoming fuzzy as your mind went numb watching the screen of the TV, some random show you couldn't bother to pay attention too for the last couple of hours.

A ping from your phone pulls your attention away from the show you were mindlessly watching, slowly pushing yourself up from the couch— wincing a bit as your limbs were finally moving again after so long—as you reached for it. You had a pretty good guess of who it was, as he was the only one who texted you on a daily basis.

Open your window please <3

"Didn't know my day could get any better." Smiling, you sent him a message back, standing up from the couch as you stretched your arms high above your head; a few of your joints popping in the process, letting out a sigh of satisfaction.

Which one?

Bedroom window

Omw

It scared the crap out of you when he first appeared at your window with little to no warning, but with how things usually played out in your life, you got used to it eventually.

A smile graced your face when you saw him perched by your window with an eager look on his face, his goopy tail seemingly wagging at the sight of you once you approached closer to the window.

Thank god he actually came when it was dark this time, you don't need another situation happening with your neighbor freaking out to the police.

"Hey." You offered quietly in greeting, wrapping your arms around his neck as you nuzzled into his skin—enjoying the warmth he seemed to radiate. He copied your actions, wrapping his arms around your waist—his grip gentle yet tight as he pulled you to himself.

"Hello, darling." He mumbles into your hair, placing a kiss atop your head.

"Didn't know you were coming back so soon?"

"Wanted to surprise you."

"Well, color me surprised."

~~~

"So," Your back was turned to Gavril as you poured the two of you drinks, "-anything new happened on your crazy adventure?"

At this point it was routine for the both of you. Gavril comes back, you make sure he isn't injured, catch up with each other's lives. Most of the time Gavril's stories seem to be a tad bit more interesting than yours, and concerning at the same time.

Very concerning.

"Not much," He starts, "-but I did get chased by some agents a few weeks back.." A awkward smile appears on his face as he shrugged his shoulders. His coat was currently laid across his lap, his fingers fiddling with the frayed edges while he looks around the room. Walking over to him, you offered him the glass as you sat down in the chair next to him, he gladly took it—taking a small sip of it before placing it down onto the table. You took a sip of your own drink, the liquid giving your throat a slight burn that soon settled into a slight tingle.

It's been a while since you last had a drink, not crazy long ago though, watching as the liquid swirls in the glass before bringing it back up to your lips again—embracing the burning yet warming feeling of the liquid.

"Did that same redhead appear again?" Gavril mentioned him once or twice before to you, you're not sure what the name of the guy is, all you know is that he constantly reappears and how cowardly he can be.

"No, only his buddy showed up this time. Wasn't like anything changed though." The corners of his lips hint at a smile, bringing a hand up to the one prominent curl of his hair as he plays with it for a bit, twirling it around his finger. "I wonder how he even got that far in without quitting." You murmured out. From what you've heard, FBI training is no joke, and very intense. Both physically and mentally. Those who can't handle the challenge usually quit early on; and if they do pass, then there's the insane amount of cases that would affect nearly anyone. So for the redhead to get that far still puzzles you.

"I wonder the same too."

You continued to talk for what seemed like hours, pouring yourselves a few more drinks as the day slowly faded away into the early hours of the morning. Your muscles felt relaxed, more at ease; a comforting haze overtaking your brain as you let today's worries slip away. It doesn't seem Gavril is feeling the effects of the drink other than the nearly invisble tint of red on his cheeks and his relaxed posture instead of the regular stiffness.

Drinking the last bit of the liquid left in your cup, you stand up from your chair as you head towards the fridge, looking back towards Gavril to offer him something to eat, "You hungry?"

He hums out in confirmation, head now resting on top of his folded arms, eyes closed. Peering into the fridge, you clicked your tongue; no cheese. Searching every corner of the fridge, nope, nada. What a pickle you were in.

You could just go to the convince store that's not far from here, 10 minutes by foot. But is it opened? Checking the time on your phone, no, they closed just a few minutes ago. Are you sure your eyes didn't just missed the cheese?

Second time looking, again, nothing.

While searching the fridge for a third time, a thought pops up.

'Well...there's milk, and a few lemons...' Looking in the cabinet next to the fridge, yup, salt and some leftover animal rennet.

Ah, a quick and easy solution to your small problem.

Quickly getting to work, you grabbed two small bowls, pouring water into both of them. Rinsing and cutting the lemon, you squeezed some of the juice into one of the bowls, mixing it and setting it aside. For the second bowl, you added some animal rennet into the water, mixed it and set it aside with the other. Once placing the pot on top the stove, you felt the embrace of two arms wrapping around your midsection with the added weight of something on your shoulder. Peeking behind you to see Gavril, with a curious look in his eyes.

"Something wrong?"

"What..exactly are you doing?"

"Ran out of cheese, so I'm making some." You respond cheerily, a tired smile spreading on your face. Turning back to the task at hand, you missed the way that red tint on his face seemed to have become darker, hugging you closer to himself as he watches your hands at work.

Despite you guys dating for several months, he still gets shy about acts of affection. Kisses, praises, gifts, being pampered; It just gives him that fluttery feeling that cascades through him. It's not that he hates it, no far from that, it's just that he doesn't know what to do. Being isolated from everyone—for who knows how long—and his only company as rats made him rather awkward. You don't mind it though—it's adorable to you whenever he hides his face in the shadow of his hood when you give him a kiss on the cheek—you want him to be comfortable around you, so usually give him ways out or just let him control the pace.

"Can I help?"

"Of course! Just, wash your hands first."

---

"So I just, pour it in?" There was a hint of hesitation in his voice, looking back and forth at the bowl with the animal rennet mixture and the pot of milk that was just taken off the heat. You had your phone playing some music— since you felt that the atmosphere was a bit too quiet—with one of Gavril's favorite rock bands playing as you guided him through the steps of making cheese.

"Yup, then just stir it in gently."

You watched as Gavril does as he was told, although a bit hesitantly once he began stirring. Walking over to him, you laid your hands atop his hands on the spoon, showing him the proper way to stir the cheese-to-be mixture. The contact brought a blush to his cheeks, a small smile forming on his face.

"Now that's done," Putting a lid on the pot, "-we wait for 10 minutes."

---

"You're gonna want to cut it in a grid-like pattern, like this!" Using a long knife, you cut two lines into the semi-solid mixture before handing the knife over to Gav.

"Oh, seems easy enough." He muttered to himself, changing the way he held the knife before holding it properly in his grip.

"Make sure to reach the bottom when cutting, cause right after this step is done, we're straining the liquid from the solids."

---

"I'll handle this part. I'll need to dunk the cheese in some hot water in order to stretch it properly." After straining out the cheese from the whey, you now needed to stretch it until it reached the right firmness. Gavril nods, as he lingers, a excited smile appearing on his face, his fangs peaking out.

Dunking the cheese into the water, you begin stretching. This part you somewhat don't like, it's not that the water is boiling hot, it just makes your skin irritated if it's submerged for long periods of time. Though it is a good way to release stress, it's like slime in a way. Edible slime, huh.

---

After adding the salt, you finally finished, good old Mozzarella cheese. Rolling it into small balls and storing it in some of the whey, you sit down as Gavril pops a ball of cheese into his mouth, a big smile appearing on his face.

A smile comes across your face as well, glad he's enjoying it. It's nice spending time with him, in moments like these. You kinda forget the fact that several month ago that he broke into your house and scared the living shit out of you when you realized you almost got killed.

...Does that count as Stockholm Syndrome??

Before you could think any further, a light poke to your arm brings you out of it. Looking towards Gavril, you see that he's offering you some cheese, a bashful smile on his face as a tint of red makes itself known. Aw, that's sweet of him.

"You can have some.."

"Thanks Gav." Popping the piece of cheese into your mouth, you savor the moment. Cheese tastes so much better when you're making it with those you care about.

What a great way to spend your day-off.

#bubo series #bubo series x reader #bubo series fanfiction #gavril game #gavril x reader #gavril fanfiction #I'm not dead I swear

25 notes · View notes