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[shivamindustrial]

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[watertreatmentplantindia]

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[woso-dreamzzz]

Miss You

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You're homesick

You like Germany.

You know you like Germany.

You get to do lots of fun things like order for Morsa at restaurants because she can't speak German like you and play at the park on the monkey bars.

You're happy to be back in Germany.

But, sometimes, your tummy gets all tense and swirly and you get icky feelings that you can't quite shake off.

"What's up with you, huh?" Morsa teases as you hide behind her legs.

You'd been excited this morning. You get to train with the Bayern keepers but seeing them on the pitch suddenly made you nervous.

You've never really trained with people without Zećira before and that makes you nervous.

The three of them are talking amongst themselves as the coach sets up cones.

Your gloves are already on. You're wearing your special Bayern training top. Your boots are laced up.

But you won't move and Morsa isn't forcing you to either.

You stay rigid, planted firmly on the spot as Anna is caught in a headlock by Cecilía and forced to receive a noogie.

You rock on the balls of your feet and keep a tight grip on Morsa's shorts.

"I..." You tighten your grip and shuffle closer to Morsa until you're pressed up against her. "Morsa...I want to go home."

"In a few hours," Morsa promises you, running a gentle hand over the top of your head.

"No," You shake your head," Home-home. In London." Your bottom lip wobbles. "I want Zećira and-and Jessie and Niamh! And Australian Sam! And Millie an' Guro an' Erin!" You press your head against the back of Morsa's legs and sob. "Want Arsenal red! Not Bayern red! I want to go home!"

People are looking over now and Morsa picks you up, tucking your head into her neck so you can't see everyone staring.

Momma comes over from where she was speaking to Georgia and Scottish Sam.

"What happened?" Pernille asks," What's wrong?"

"She's feeling a little homesick," Magda whispers," I think it's sunk in that she can't practice with Zećira and it's all spiralled from there."

You sniffle as you run out of tears, chest rising and falling heavily.

Momma gently removes your keeper gloves and wipes the wetness from your face. She's got girl-swan and girl-moose in her hands and you take them.

They still smell a little like your house in London and it makes your tummy go all swirly again as you breathe in their smell.

"Do you still want to practice with the keepers?" Momma asks and you shake your head.

"Are you sure?" Morsa presses," Not at all?"

"Not right now," Momma cuts in," Well done for trying, princesse. Do you want to sit at the side with Klara? You can try again later."

In all honesty, you don't want to sit with Klara.

You want to leave Germany and go back to Not-Wolfsburg. You'll even wear Morsa's Not-Wolfsburg jersey if it means that you can go back and practice with Zećira.

You don't want to wait for the next Sweden camp to see her again. You want to be with her now.

You want her to tell you how to anticipate penalties (one day, people will fear taking a penalty against you). You want her to show you how to boot the ball all the way to the other side of the pitch (one day, you'll win a World Cup doing that). You want her to show you how to be the very best goalkeeper in the world (one day, you'll become the most decorated goalkeeper in history).

You want Zećira to teach you everything she knows.

You want to be with her now, on the Not-Wolfsburg training pitch with your matching gloves and matching boots.

But you can't do any of that.

So, you sit with Klara.

You don't know why she's not training today but she's sitting on the sidelines with a ball of yawn and some weird long things.

She smiles warmly at you as Morsa sets you down next to her, kissing you on the forehead and promising to be back with Momma to check on you very soon.

Your heart still aches for Zećira and her steady mentorship.

You don't know how to be a good goalkeeper without her (one day, Zećira will hand you an award proclaiming you as the best goalkeeper in the world). You don't know how to do her proud without her being there (one day, Zećira will be in the front row of your very first match for Sweden). You don't know how you're meant to train with other keepers when Zećira is your idol (one day, you'll be the idol of so many other little girls who will wear your shirt and cheer your name).

Your Bayern shirt says your first name right now, emblazoned on the back like you're someone important and perfect like Alexia but you're not (one day, your club shirts will all have your first name). Your Bayern shirt is red like Arsenal (one day, you'll be wearing an Arsenal shirt). Bayern is in Germany, which used to be home but it doesn't feel like home anymore (one day, it'll be home again but you'll be wearing Wolfsburg colours rather than Bayern).

Everything is so similar but different and you don't know how you're meant to adapt.

You miss Zećira with all her heart but you love keeping so much and you want to practice at Bayern so in the future you can be the best (one day, you'll be the very best).

But your tummy ties itself in knots and you get shaky legs when you see the Bayern keepers mucking around with each other, like how you used to muck around with Zećira.

"How big are your toys?" Klara asks you.

You frown, staring down at girl-moose and girl-swan.

"Why?" You still sound a little tearful but Klara doesn't comment on it.

"Well, they're part of the team aren't they? Like you? I think they deserve their own shirts."

"They're too little for jerseys," You say," They don't make ones little enough."

"I'm knitting some," Klara says and that gets your attention so you shuffle a bit closer," They won't have names of anything but they should be recognisable enough."

Her fingers move around until one of the jerseys are done.

She's right. They're very little and there's no room for any of the fancy words or numbers but it's still very clearly a Bayern jersey. She finishes it off and hands it to you, where you very carefully put it on girl-swan.

She looks like a Bayern player now, like she's part of the team.

Girl-moose gets one too and now they both look like Bayern players.

They look like they belong in Germany with this group of girls. They used to belong with Caro and Nilla or moster Frido and Ingrid at Wolfsburg. Then they belonged with Zećira and Jessie at Not-Wolfsburg.

Now, though, they belong with the Bayern girls.

Your keeper gloves sit next to you and you very gently slip them on, clenching and unclenching your hands to make sure they still fit properly.

Zećira got you these gloves for Christmas.

They're special because they're little versions of hers.

You think that means you've got a bit of Zećira in Bayern with you.

"Klara?" You ask.

"Hmm? What's up?"

"Can...Can I go and practice in goal with the others?"

"Do you want me to go and walk you over?"

"Yes, please."

[callsign-rogueone]

keep her safe - g.t.

Garrick Tavis x Marked!Pacifist!Reader  This one is for my fellow tired, chronic pain girls who just want their suffering to serve some purpose, and those who trust everyone they meet, even if they shouldn’t. wc: 4.7k -- the longest work I've ever put on this blog! second chapter is here! 🏷: spoilers for both Fourth Wing books (I’m currently 500 pages into Iron Flame, and y’all... 😭) people refer to you with she/her pronouns, canon-typical violence and torture, mentions of canon character death / death of a family member, bad coping mechanisms, Dain and his memory reading (I tried to make him more tolerable), one (1) reference to sex, I gave you a last name (Avan) and Garrick calls you angel as a pet name, because I refuse to use y/n. Your dragon's name is Tab.

Your stomach drops as your name is called for a challenge. “No weapons today.” Emeterrio adds. “I want you to work on your hand-to-hand.”

The pair of you unsheath nearly a dozen knives apiece, you handing yours to Bodhi. Disarmed, you extend a hand to the boy, as is the Tyrrish tradition before a friendly spar, but he doesn’t take it. No unmarked ones ever have.

He charges first, tangles a hand in your hair and pulls, jerking your head back, and the crowd of freshmen gasp, but you plant your feet and move with him, twisting your spine with practiced ease.

That gives you enough distance to kick a leg out at his right knee, hitting him squarely in the back of it. He releases you. Another swift kick to his legs has them sweeping out from under him. You dig a thumb into his collarbone, finding just the right spot, and he crumples, giving you a split second to wrap your arm around his throat.

He claws at your elbow with blunt nails, wasting breath as he attempts to rise to his feet, but you keep him pinned with your body weight, bearing down as hard as you can. He bucks, and your left boot skids against the mat. 

You bend your knee to brace yourself in a lunge. Your arm is starting to falter, he can feel the muscle straining around his jaw, but he’s tiring too — running out of air. If neither of you moves, he’s going to die.

“Enough,” Emeterrio commands.

You release him, extending a hand to pull him up, but he smacks it away and dives straight at you, clearly not done. “I’m not letting you off that easily, traitor.” 

You squeak in surprise, your back hitting the mat with a thud, and he lands another blow to your jaw. You struggle to take control back, gasping for breath from how hard you’d hit the floor.

He gathers your wrists into one hand easily, the other closing around your throat.

“You are going to die on this mat if you don’t do something, now. Use the failsafe.” 

There’s one dagger you hadn’t removed, that you’d won from Garrick in combat your first year, that he’d let you win, really, and promptly ordered that you never remove it from your reach, for situations like this.

He doesn’t have your legs pinned, so you kick out, catching him in the thigh, and his grip falters. You manage to wiggle one arm free to pull the blade from the inside of your jacket, rolling onto your side and holding the point millimeters away from his chest. “Yield,” you order, loud enough for everyone to hear.

“You won’t kill me,” He snarls. “Everyone knows you’re all bark and no bite. That’s why you keep him around.”

You drag it down, just enough to tear his shirt. “Yield, or you’ll meet Malek today and you can explain to him what a cheating coward you are.” The words surprise you, but you fight to maintain the hardened look on your face, trying to convince him you’re serious. 

“Fine,” he spits, “I yield.”

Heart still pounding, you move to lean against the wall with the other marked ones, Bodhi handing you back your arsenal blade by blade. 

“She cheated!” Jason protests as soon as he’s standing again.

“She did what was necessary after you defied a direct order from a superior officer,” Emeterrio says narrowly.

Jason glowers, but returns to his friends without further argument. The rest of the pack takes note of their faces; they’re likely as conniving as him, and as liable to try to kill you, too.

“I’m gonna end that motherfucker,” Garrick mutters, checking you over for injuries as subtly as he can. He hands you a scrap of cloth and you wipe the blood from your nose, wincing, but grateful it isn’t broken.

“He’s been at this for months. One of these days, he’s going to kill you.” Bodhi says quietly, his gaze not moving from the next sparring pair.

“Why not kill him first?” Imogen asks. “You had a knife to his gut, you should have used it.”

“No.” You say firmly. “To kill anyone unmarked, especially an officer’s son, would confirm what everyone else in this army believes about Tyrs; that we are bloodthirsty animals.”

“Let them believe that,” she scoffs. “They’ll never change their mind.”

You sigh. Maybe she’s right.

You don’t see your friends for the next ten hours, when you’re finally excused for dinner.

“Where the hell have you been?” Bodhi asks. 

“Medical wing,” you rasp, sliding into a seat at the end of the bench. “Mending infantry with Carr.” 

“You should eat,” Liam says softly, pushing a plate toward you, but you shake your head no, every muscle in your body screaming. 

You look like your head is going to hit the table, your neck no longer able to hold it up. Bodhi pulls you into his side and you slump against him, boneless. “Her signet isn’t fully developed yet,” you hear him explain to Violet and Liam. “She’ll be okay. She just needs to rest.”

When you wake, it’s dark out, the room nearly pitch black, but you can tell it’s not yours — the furniture is arranged differently.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, gentle one,” Tab greets as soon as you’re cognizant. He can only be this dry about it because he knew you’d pull through. “If he makes you do that again, I’ll eat him.”

You laugh, wincing at the pain in your ribs. Your entire body aches. There’s no way you got up the three flights of stairs here yourself — you didn’t even have it in you to chew food at dinner.

There’s a comforting scent to the room — all the soap and detergent everyone uses is standard issue, but something about the sheets smells like Garrick. Your theory is confirmed when he walks through the door, the hallway light illuminating the hilts of the two swords strapped to his back. “If you want me in your bed, Gare, you just need to ask,” you say in greeting.

He laughs dryly, waving a hand to activate a small mage light. “The damage can’t be too bad if you’re already cracking jokes.”

“I missed physics, didn’t I? Did you carry me up here?”

“Of course that’s what you’re worried about. You can copy Violet’s notes, they’re way better than mine.” He strips some of the weapons off, shedding his flight jacket along with them. It’s something you’ve seen many times before, but it never fails to make your heart flutter.

He sits on the edge of the bed, a gentle hand moving up to lay against your cheek. “And I did carry you. I’d do anything for you, angel. It scares me sometimes.”

He brushes a piece of hair from your face. You’d been freezing cold when you fell asleep, so he’d draped you with every blanket he owned before leaving, and it seems to have worked — your skin is pleasantly warm against his hand.

“Anything, hm?” You ask, a lazy smile on your face. 

His eyes sparkle at the mischief in your tone, but he’s responsible enough to think before he acts. “Not until you’ve recovered,” he says sternly. 

You yawn. “D’you have section leader stuff to do tonight?”

“That’s what executive officers are for.”

You crack an eye to look at him in disapproval. “Gare, you can’t skip duty. Melgren will have your head.”

He sighs. “Fine. Don’t go anywhere.”

“I won’t. Your bed is more comfortable than mine anyway.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead, tugging the jacket back on and strapping in the swords.

/////////

Someone is standing in front of your yoga mat. Dain. “No bodyguard today?” He asks.

You’re silent, your gaze flickering between him and the longsword by your side, the one Garrick had insisted you take with you everywhere when he wasn’t there to protect you.

“You may find this hard to believe, but I don’t want to kill you.” He says with a sigh. “I just need to-”

“Quit talking and join me, or leave.” You interrupt, settling into a deeper stretch, eyes closing as you gesture to the floor next to you with an open hand. By the grace of Amari, Carr had given you enough time off to recover, but he’ll likely be making you work another shift in the infirmary today. This will be your only pocket of calm for the next twelve hours. You aren’t going to skip it for Dain, of all people.

He chooses the first option, surprising you as he drags a mat over beside yours, attempting to copy your movements. “Do you really do this every day?” He asks, uncomfortable.

“Even a soldier must take time to be at peace. Clear your mind. Whatever you’re thinking about is so loud it’s distracting.”

He startles, his foot slipping on the mat.

“No, my signet is not mind-reading.” You say, eyes still closed, though there’s an amused look on your face. “Relax. You’re killing the air in here with that nervous energy.”

For the next five minutes, you both stretch in total silence. “Now,” you decide, bringing your arms back to your body, focusing on your breathing, “what was so important that you needed to find me here?”

He cuts straight to it. “Varrish wants me to… practice on you. He thinks you’re hiding something, that all of you are.” He doesn’t need to specify who he means by you. 

You don’t seem to react to the information, instead looking at him with curiosity. “How do you feel about your signet?” 

He blinks. Nobody’s ever asked him that before. “I don’t know.” He says quietly. You shift again, but he doesn’t follow you, folding his legs underneath him instead. Your silence presses him to speak, needing to fill the air. “I used to think it was cool, but now… now I’m wondering if it’s really a gift at all.”

“What do you see when you view a memory like that? Are you living it through their eyes, or from above, watching it unfold? How far back can you see?”

“Through their eyes.” He answers, throat dry. Why is he telling you this? “A day, maybe two. It depends. Varrish wants me to learn to push it farther.”

You weigh the consequences. If he’s being honest, he won’t see anything confidential — at worst, a gathering of more than three marked ones to exercise, but is he really petty enough to tell Varrish about that, when he’s giving you a warning in the first place?

“Okay.” You say, opening your eyes. Better it be you than one of the kids who can’t shield their memories yet, or Garrick or Bodhi, who would rip him limb from limb if he tried to touch them.

“What?”

“I’m going to go about my day now as if this conversation never happened,” you say, looking him in the eye, unflinching, “and you’re going to do what you have to do to satisfy Varrish’s demands — with me and only me. Are we clear?”

“Yes,” he stammers, shocked that you’re letting him do this.

“Good.” You pick up the longsword, strapping it back in along your spine. “Dain?” You call over your shoulder. “I won’t make it easy for you.” You say, and he knows that’s a promise.

“That was an incredibly stupid decision, gentle one. A noble decision, but stupid nonetheless.” Tab speaks into your mind on the way back up to your room. “You cannot always assume everyone has good intentions. It would have been your downfall by now, if not for your mate’s protection.”

“Stop calling Garrick my mate. That’s weird.” You deflect, not wanting to unpack his earlier words.

“Forgive me. Dragons do not have a word for a relationship as trivial as a boyfriend.”

You build up a mental wall like Xaden had taught you, ending the argument. 

When Varrish calls you into his office that afternoon, you already know what it’s for. “Take a seat,” he says with a smile that you know isn’t meant to be friendly.

He sees the way your eyes immediately narrow at the sight of Dain — everyone knows how the quadrant’s golden boy feels about marked ones, and how you feel about him. You’re going to be doing some very good acting today.

The door closes and locks behind you, and your stomach flips as you feel the sound shield form and press up against the office walls. There’s no escape, and no screaming for help, but you know what you’ve walked into. You signed up for it this morning.

“To what do I owe this meeting, Major?” You ask respectfully, lowering yourself into the chair beside Dain.

“Professor Carr has made me aware that both of your signets have been slow to develop. We’re going to spend your leisure time today practicing, in hopes that you will finally improve.” A very convincing lie, you’ll admit. If Dain hadn’t come to you this morning, you might have believed it. “No objections?” He asks, waiting for you to protest.

“No, sir.” You say calmly, Dain answering the same a beat behind you.

“Good. Aetos, you first.”

It takes every ounce of self control not to squirm as Dain stands, stepping toward you. You lift your chin, closing your eyes -- a gesture of consent small enough to fly under the Vice Commandant’s radar.

You may be letting him try, but you’d told him this wouldn’t be easy. You block him out completely, raising your mental shield and barring the gates.

“What do you see?” Varrish asks.

Dain doesn’t answer. He does not push, does not attempt to kick the door down or dig below the foundation. He stands outside, waiting for you to give him something. 

The crack of his nose breaking has your eyes flying open, the coppery scent of blood starting to fill the room immediately as he staggers back into his chair.

“Your turn, Avan."

You stand, laying a gentle hand on Dain’s jaw to tilt it up, stopping the blood from pouring down his shirt. 

He looks up at you, stunned, but lets you touch the broken cartilage with your fingertips, and moments later it feels like nothing ever happened. It’s mind-bending.

“Very good. Aetos, try again. What was she doing this morning?”

Dain stands, angling his body between yours and Varrish’s so that the Major can’t see the apology he mouths before his hands touch your forehead. Whether he can see his conversation with you in the gym is unclear. He lies through his teeth either way. “She was alone,” he answers, “on a run to the flight field and back.” 

“And then?”

He shifts uncomfortably, his eyes not leaving yours. “A shower, breakfast. Eggs. An apple. Toast. She sat with Tavis and two other marked ones.” He leaves out Violet from the group, not wanting to implicate her. Interesting. 

That much is true, but it’s part of your everyday routine — he could have easily gleaned that from watching you across the mess hall. Is he still locked out?

Varrish stands, rounding the corner of his desk. “Let’s make this a little harder, shall we?”

Dain screams as a dagger pierces his arm, thrashing in his chair. Varrish twists the blade as he pulls it out, letting Dain’s blood drip to the floor. This is why he needed the sound shield.

Your eyes widen, and the adrenaline has you leaping to your feet to fix it. You press a hand into the wound, apologizing when he winces. It takes you longer than it should for the muscle to repair itself.

“You care more about him than I thought.” Varrish muses.

You turn to him, anger flickering in your chest. “It is my moral obligation to help the wounded.”

He tuts. “You would have made an excellent healer, had your parents not committed high treason. Aetos, again. Find something older.”

Dain trembles as he stands, and you take pity on him. You push an older memory forward, a happy one, remembering it as vividly as you can.

You watch together as you sprint through the forest, stopping dead in your tracks as you see two cadets fighting. The one losing is a smaller girl in your class whose name Dain can’t remember, a tall, muscled boy towering over her, sword ready to strike.

You spring forward, catching him by surprise and effectively disarming him, and he chooses to abandon the sword and run rather than fight the both of you. You extend a hand to pull the girl to her feet and her eyes widen further, staring up not at you, but behind you.

You feel a burst of heat against your back — not hot enough to be fire. Steam. You bow your head in deference, turning slowly to give the girl time to run… And the dragon bows back. What the fuck?

“You did not kill the boy.” It says directly into your mind.

“I did not.” You answer aloud, not sure if humans can do that.

“Have you ever killed before, gentle one?”

“I haven’t.” Should you be embarrassed? Dragons are violent, surely they would see this as a sign of weakness.

“Not all of us.”

“Holy shit, you can read my mind.”

The girl laughs in disbelief, and you realize you’ve just bonded a dragon.

“In time you’ll learn to control that. But your friend needs to get moving, and so do we.”

You wish her luck before scaling the leg of your dragon and taking a seat.

“Hold on.”

You shriek in happiness like a child as he jumps up, and seconds later you’re thousands of feet in the air, looking down at Basgiath and the valley below. When you return to the flight field, you find Garrick there with a giant brown Scorpiontail, bloodied but happy as he stands next to Xaden and the biggest blue daggertail you’ve ever seen. You pull them both into a hug, just grateful they’re alive.

“Careful, angel,” Garrick warns, grinning into your hair, “we just might make it out of here.”

You cut Dain off there, yanking back the memory before slamming your shields back up. He can have that moment, but only that moment.

“Threshing,” Dain says. Thank the gods. “She helped another cadet who was being attacked. That’s why Tab chose her, for her kindness.”

You both look at Varrish for further instruction. Your shields have been weakening with every injury you repair, but so have Dain’s abilities. You don’t know how many more rounds either of you can take. 

“I think that’s enough for today,” He says, sounding pleased. “I’ll see you again on Wednesday morning, to check your progress. You’re dismissed.”

The sound shield dissipates, the door unlocking. The only evidence is Dain’s blood, smeared across his face and arms, drying on the floor and under your nails. You commit the sight to memory, tucking it into the same folder that holds the death of your parents, and slam the drawer shut.

It takes you five minutes to scrub the blood out of the cracks in your palms and from under your nails. Your fingertips are wrinkled when you step into the gym.

“Why did Tab tell Chradh that you were called into Varrish’s office with Aetos?” Garrick asks, remarkably calm as he toys with one of his smaller daggers.

“Because he’s a meddling mother hen.” You answer, avoiding the question.

“Watch it.”  Tab warns. “Tell him the truth, or we will.”

You know he’s not bluffing. “He wanted us to practice our signets on each other.”

“Dain practiced his signet, his memory-reading signet, on you?” He asks, already simmering with anger.

“This morning, he came to me to warn me about Varrish’s plan, and I told him it was okay. I used my shields, and I only showed him what I wanted to. We’re supposed to do it again Wednesday.”

Your eyes communicate something else you won’t say aloud, not in front of everyone, and not when you know Dain might be able to see this conversation in two days. I did this to take the heat off of the others. You know I was the safest choice.

Garrick sighs. “I can’t tell you what to do, but I’d like to state for the record that I hate this plan. Literally everything about it. Except for Aetos being stabbed, maybe.” Of course Chradh told him about that. He’d have been delighted by the news, despising both him and Cath.

You give him a look.

“Okay, fine. I take that back.”

He doesn’t. 

By Wednesday, the pain in the bridge of your nose is gone, but your arm is still tender where Dain had been stabbed. Bodhi joins you in the gym, stretching with you for a few minutes before he settles into a plank at your side, his eyes never leaving the door.

Dain does not make an appearance at breakfast, notably absent from the leadership table.

Garrick excuses himself as soon as he sees you stand with your tray, catching you by the doors. “Remember that you’re stronger than both of them in all the ways that matter,” he says quietly. “I’ll find you as soon as you’re done.” You both tap your chest twice before parting ways, as has been your tradition for years -- a reminder that even though you’re leaving, you still hold the other in your heart.

Each step up to Varrish’s office is another reminder of what’s to come when you reach the top. “Cadet Avan,” he greets with another sickening smile. “Just in time. We were beginning to think you weren’t coming.”

Your jaw drops at the sight of Dain slumped into the same chair as last time, bloodied and exhausted.

“Nothing fatal,” Varrish reassures. “Not if you act quickly. Go ahead, get started.”

The Vice Commandant’s words have you on edge as you assess him, looking for gaping wounds or broken bones. Dain winces as your hands move over his ribs, and you whisper an apology, pressing in deeper. When your chest starts to ache, you know it’s time to move on. You mend two broken ribs, dissolve a purple bruise on his arm, and fix a split lip, but Dain still hasn’t woken up.

You turn back to Varrish. “One left,” he says. “Use your head.”

Oh, gods. He’d given Dain a concussion, because he knows the migraine it’ll give you will make it harder to shield. You cradle the second-year’s head in your hands, breathing out deeply as you transfer the pain from his body to yours, healing the bruised tissue. Dain blinks himself awake as you stumble, the room suddenly spinning.

“Well done. Aetos?”

You fumble for the arms of your chair, vision blurring at the edges, but you manage to sit back down.

“Say the word, and I get your mate,” Tab offers. He can probably feel your disorientation, concerned you won’t be able to block Dain out in this state.

“No,” you rasp back. “If he shows up, Varrish will have us practice on him instead.”

 You need to pick another memory to satisfy Varrish, something older, but your brain isn’t firing on all cylinders. Dain gives you a moment to gather yourself, a small gesture of mercy.

“A moment of pure happiness,” Tab suggests. “Something with the wingleader and your mate.”

You flip back in the book of your life, nearly all the way to the beginning, opening it to the right page to give to Dain and slipping it under the gate with a nod of your head — you’re ready.

Dain’s hands are warm against your freezing cheeks. A boy no older than five that he recognizes as Garrick crouches under a desk across the room, holding a finger to his lips. 

“Wherever could those children possibly be?” Someone muses aloud, and you fight laughter as the voice grows closer, thinking it amusing that this adult has no idea you’re hiding in the curtains.

Footsteps retreat, and Garrick signals for you to move. You make it down the hallway before you see someone searching — presumably whatever parent you’d convinced to play with you. Small hands tug you both behind a plush velvet couch. Xaden. 

You press yourselves up against it, trying to be as quiet as possible, watching as a shadow forms on the wall in front of you, then a head peers over the back of the couch — that must be your father. He looks just like you, has the same warm smile.

“One more, and then I need to get back to work,” He says, already moving to cover his eyes and starting to count to one hundred. You each run off in a different direction, and the scene fades there.

“A childhood memory,” Dain says. “Playing hide and seek in her father’s office with Riorson and Tavis.”

Not good enough for Varrish. “Give me something I can use,” he snarls, a Freudian slip, but nothing either of you hadn’t known already. 

You flip forward in the book, settling on a page you never look at, that you can’t bear to, but that Varrish will revel in. You rip it out, sliding it under the gate. “Bad,” you whisper, the only warning you can manage.

Dain nods in permission, ready to watch whatever memory you’ve pushed forward.

Someone presses a small stone into your hand, an intricate overlap of shapes and lines engraved on one side, the other perfectly smooth.

“Do not put it down, even for a moment,” your father says. He’s aged between now and the last memory, starting to go gray at his temples. “Keep it in your hand until the end. It will protect you when we can’t.”

He looks next to Garrick. “She is everything good about the world.” He says quietly. “Take care of her.”

Garrick promises he will, and your father pulls you into one last embrace before he leaves. Tears blur your vision, Garrick pulling you close. “It’ll be okay,” he soothes. “They’ll come back.”

Hours pass that Dain can’t see, because you don’t remember them. 

There’s an ache in your palm from clutching the stone so hard, the rounded corners digging into your skin. Garrick takes your free hand in his, interlocking your fingers. Then there’s only screaming and fire and rage, heat burning up your arm as it’s marked with inky swirls. Until the end, your father had said. This must have been what he meant.

“Her parents’ execution,” Dain says, a note of genuine hurt in his voice. “They gave each child a runestone before they left, as protection.”

Varrish’s eyes rake over to you. He leans forward, yanking on the leather cord that disappears into the neck of your shirt hard enough to pull your body with it. “A runestone like this one?”

“Yes,” you answer before Dain can, saving him the lie. You shut your eyes, wincing as the cold edge of a knife brushes against your neck and the cord breaks, a single drop of warm blood running down your collarbone. You don’t protest, you can’t, your mind still hazy and eyes wet with tears from reliving the memory with Dain.

“That will be all.” Varrish dismisses. He doesn’t make an appointment for you to come back. He has what he needs.

You stand, relying on your knowledge of the office’s layout to navigate your way forward until the door closes behind you.

“I’m so sorry,” Dain breathes once you’re down the hall far enough to avoid being heard. “If I had known,”

“It’s okay. The rune is long dead, and he has no idea how to recreate it. I’m just glad he didn’t hurt you again.” You blink, trying to clear your head. How are you going to get down all these stairs? You can hardly see.

“Here,” he says quietly, extending a hand. You take it, letting him loop an arm over his shoulders — your right, the one that Varrish hadn’t bruised black and blue on Dain — and lead you one step at a time.

You’re halfway down when you hear heavy footsteps running up the stairs. Garrick. He’d promised he’d find you when you were done. He doesn’t spare a glance at Dain, gathering you into his arms and apologizing when he puts pressure on your not-broken ribs.

Dain watches as the older boy carries you down the rest of the stairs, murmuring reassurances to you all the while. Your father’s words echo in his mind. “Take care of her.”

Garrick Tavis is a man of his word.

[mymindcreatedthis]

Sisters best friend 18+

Reader x Alessia Russo

Warning: Smut, Smut, Smut

Word count: 3k

*Y/n's Pov*

It's the middle of the season for Arsenal, a Friday. The girls and I are at training, a light training session. After a long hot day out in the pitch, I could hear my sister Leah Williamson making plans with her best friend for tonight.

I heard them talking about Alessia staying at our place for the night, the thought made me blush immediately. I've had a crush on Alessia for so long, I always found myself staring into her direction all the time at training. Watching her bend over to pick up a football right in front of me, her perfect shaped ass teasing me.

After Alessia was done talking to Leah she made her way in my direction, her hips swaying side to side sweat dripping off her forehead after her work out and after our training.

"I'm staying at your place tonight." Alessia whispered her finger gently tracing my arm.

R-R-Really? That would be nice." I stuttered making Alessia giggle, her cute giggling making me turn dark red almost immediately.

Alessia looked me up and down, her hand snaking around my waist. "Maybe we can spend some time together." She smiled cheekily before removing her arm and leaving the field.

I could feel my length getting hard immediately. What did she mean by some time together? I watched her leave the field her ass swaying side to side. Her fat ass swallowing her shorts turning me on more. One thing Alessia made me was nervous, and she knew it too.

Teasing me, touching me, and now I had to spend the night with her under the same roof. I didn't know how I was gonna be able to control myself.

The time was 10:00 pm. Alessia, Leah and I were led on the sofa watching Netflix. I kept finding myself looking at Alessia, checking her out. How her tits sat perfectly under her shirt, she had no bra on and I could tell. The more I tried to stop myself the harder my length was getting, thinking about all the things I could do to her and her body.

"I'm going to call it a night girls." Leah yawned. "Alessia your bed is all made, Y/n don't stay up too late." Leah added before she made her way upstairs.

The room was filled with silence, an awkward silence. That was until Alessia got up and sits right next to me, my breath hitched. Automatically I became hot thinking about what she said to me earlier at the fields.

"Just me and you now Y/n." Alessia whispered in my ear as she placed her hand on my thigh and gently rubbed my thigh with her thumb.

"L-Less." I coughed.

"You like that don't you?" She whispered against closer to my ear.

I looked her up and down once again as she looked down at me. Her nipples hard, her breathing calm. "Y-Yes a lot." I stuttered.

"Do I  make you stutter baby?" Alessia giggled. "Am I making you nervous?" She added.

All I could do was nod in response.

"I'll leave you with this, don't think about me too much." Alessia whispered as she planted a long kiss on my lips squeezing my thigh.

I could feel myself getting harder and harder, I just wanted to feel Alessia. Feel her wrapped around my dick and be deep inside her.

"Fuck less please." I moaned quietly.

"No baby that all you can have your sister is upstairs." She responded as she got up off the sofa and made her way upstairs. "Don't think about me too much." Alessia added, she winked at me and then left the room.

I sat shocked at what just happened, my dick rock hard. Alessia just kissed me, now we're sleeping under the same roof. I didn't know what Leah had got me into but I had a feeling it was going to be good.

It was a struggle to fall asleep that night, wondering truly what had happened. What Alessia wanted, just think about it about her was making me super hard again. Just wanting to be with Alessia. The morning soon rolled around, I groaned in annoyance and roll over as the door to my room slowly opened.

Alessia turns on the light immediately causing me to cover my face with the blanket blocking the light. "Come on Y/n it's time to wake up it's 12 pm your sister is back home." Alessia says removing the blankets.

"Mmm what does Leah have to do with me sleeping?" I say confused still half asleep. I was sleeping in just my sports bra and boxers, my bulge was visible. I had slight morning wood from dreaming/ fantasizing about Alessia.

"She has food." Alessia says with a giggle.

Alessia's words catch my attention. Alessia giggles again I look up and immediately bite my lip noticing Alessia choice of clothing. Red panties and a slight baggy shirt.

"Hey my eyes are up here you perv." Alessia laughs.

I throw a pillow at her, and she throws it straight back at me and walks to my bedroom door. My eyes slowly trail down to her ass, I bite my lip and check out her ass. The tent in my boxers becoming visible.

Fuck her ass is fat as fuck in those panties. They looked amazing and were riding up her ass, Alessia sees me staring she smirks and gives her ass a little shake. Suddenly she bends over making her panties ride up her ass a little more. This makes me bite my lip and make my cock throb. I quickly try to adjust my boxers as I get hard.

Alessia giggles as I try to adjust my boxers. "Mmmm someone's hard hehe you like that? My ass making you hard?" Alessia teases.

I bite my lip and grab my boner. "Alessia we can't, you're my sister's best friend."

She winks and walks away leaving me with annoying blue balls. "Ahh fuck you Russo." I groan, I get up and close the door but forget to lock it.

I take off my boxers, I lay back down on my bed. I close my eyes and slowly stroke my dick.

——————————————————-

Alessia comes back into the room fully naked. I blush darkly at the sight, Alessia rubs my bulge making me moan immediately.

"Mmm baby, someone's hard." Alessia smiles.

I moan as she continues to rub my bulge. She smirks, and slides my boxers down my legs and tosses them off to the side.

"Mmmm someone's hard I'm gonna suck you dry and drain the balls In me." Alessia says seductively as she slowly strokes my dick.

"Ahhh fuck,yes please." I moan in pleasure.

Alessia giggles and lays between my legs. She licks my tip and swirls her tongue around my tip, I moan my legs start to shake in pleasure as she licks up my precum.

Once I'm hard she takes my length in her mouth. She begins to choke and gag a bit, humming against my dick as she slowly bobs her head up and down.

I moan and lay my head on the pillow behind my head and relax as Alessia continues to give me head. She wraps her arms around the back of my legs and bobs her head faster than before.

"Mmm fuck, ahh just like that Alessia." I moan in pleasure.

I moan, I was close to cumming. Fuck Alessia really knows how to suck dick "Mmm Alessia if you keep doing that I'm gonna cum buckets." I moan in pleasure.

Alessia takes my dick deeper in her mouth as she sinks her head lower. She chokes and gags as she bobs her head faster and faster.

"Ahh fuck.... Fuck Alessia, I'm so close." I moan in pleasure.

I moan in pleasure after 5 more minutes of an amazing blowjob I feel myself getting closer and closer to cumming.

"Alessia baby, I'm gon-"

Throat pie:

I can't take it anymore, I bust my load in her mouth. Alessia chokes and gags as I cum, she swallows my big load and sucks me dry.

I moan as Alessia gets the rest of my cum and swallows it getting every last drop.

She lays down next to me. I hover over her and kiss her deeply. "Mmm put it in me." Alessia says.

"Are you sure? I don't have a condom." I say.

"Yes I'm sure, if you want to cum I suggest you get a move on." Alessia says.

"Yes Ma'am." I say.

I slide my dick deep inside her tight pussy. Me and her both moan as her walls immediately clench around my dick.

"Fuck Alessia, you so wet and tight." I moan in pleasure.

"You're really deep in there baby." Alessia moans

I smirk, I give her a second to adjust to my size. "Tell me when to move." I say.

"M-Move." Alessia moans.

Alessia wraps her legs around my waist and pulls me closer this causes my dick to go deeper inside her, we both moan. I lean down and kiss her deeply.

We both moan in the kiss as I slowly thrust in and out of her, holy fuck her pussy felt like heaven. I don't think I can last long, she was super tight and her grip was amazing.

I moan and go a bit faster than before, my balls slap against her skin as our moans fill the room.

"Ahh Fuck...fuck.....fuck." Alessia squeaks out with each thrust.

"It feels so good." I moan as I keep going.

"Yeah, you like that daddy? My tight pussy clenched around your massive throbbing cock?" Alessia moans.

"Mmm I fucking love it." I moan.

"You gonna fill me up with your load?" Alessia asks seductively.

"I'm gonna drain my balls in you." I moan in response.

I go faster and harder, my balls slapping against her skin as our moans fill the room. "I'm gonna squirt." Alessia moans.

I start to go at an angle and pound her g spot fast and hard. Alessia moans as she moves her hands to my back. She moans and squirts and scratches my back, I moan and continue fucking her.

"Ahhh fuck, I'm gonna cum." Alessia moaned.

"Me too." I moaned in response.

I feel myself getting closer and closer to cumming. I moan as I kiss and suck on her neck, Alessia moans as I carry on pounding her g spot, leaving hickys on her neck.

I can't take it anymore, I bust my load deep inside her pussy. My cum panting her walls white, Alessia moans and cums all over my dick.

"Fuck yes, give me that cum." Alessia moans as I continue to cum inside her.

We both moan as I help her ride out her high and slowly pull out. My cum glazed her folds, and oozes out of her pussy and onto the sheets.

"That was amazing." Alessia moans.

——————————————————————

*Alessia's Pov*

Leah and I eat our food as we mess around on our phones. "Can you go get Y/n I don't know what's taking her so long her food is getting cold." Leah says.

"Yeah I'll go get her." I say.

I get upstairs, I open Y/n's door. "Hey Y/—" I get cut off and blush darkly at the view in front of me.

Y/n was moaning my name, her eyes closed as she jerked off. I immediately feel myself getting wet, she moans and strokes her dick a bit faster. She moans lushly in pleasure and cums, cum shoots up and lands on her bed, on her sheets and coats her hand and fingers. She moans and continues to stroke her dick slowly as cum continues to slowly spurt and ooze out of her.

This was so hot to watch. I bite my lip and squeeze my legs together as I get wet trying to release some of the pressure, I continue to watch her jerk off as she keeps moaning my name.

"Mmm fuck baby, you're really tight I don't think I can last long." Y/n moans as she strokes her dick faster.

I slip my hand in my panties and start to tease and rub my folds. I was soaking wet, I slip in a finger and slowly finger myself as I watch her jerk off.

I start to fantasize about her being balls deep inside me. I cover my mouth as I speed up my fingers but then I groan in annoyance and stop. This is wrong this is my best friend's sister, I decide to just leave her to it, and quietly close her door and leave the room.

*Y/n's Pov*

After my wet dream of Alessia I get cleaned up and make my way down stairs for food. I enter the dinning room Leah and Alessia's attention turn to my direction. Alessia's face began to turn dark red, maybe because of what happened last night.

"You're here." Leah looks at me. "I got an important meeting with Arsenal so I'll be gone for a while so you two are gonna be alone." Leah smiles, she grabs her bag and leaves us alone.

Alessia looks at me. "About last night." Alessia says breaking the silence.

"I want more." I immediately say.

"But you're my best friend's sister." Alessia says.

"I don't care Less, I want you. I want to feel you around my dick." I admit.

"O-O-Okay." Alessia stutters.

Alessia blushes darkly she grabs my hand and leads me upstairs to my room. We both get undressed as soon as we enter my room. Kisses in between each clothing being removed.

"Less, I don't have a condom." I say between kisses.

"I don't care, I want your cum." Alessia says.

I laugh at the desperation in Alessia voice picking her up, a placing her on the bed. Alessia moves onto all fours and wiggles her ass. "Fuck my ass Y/n, please I need you." Alessia begs.

Without giving an answer I slide my hard length into Alessia's ass bottoming out inside of her. I grab hold of her hair pulling it harder and harder going deeper into her ass.

"Fuck baby, you like that baby me using your ass." I moan as I spank her ass still a firm grip in her blonde locks.

"Yes baby, please use me." Alessia yells in pleasure.

I keep thrusting getting harder and harder my moans getting louder and louder. "Less baby I'm going to cum, I'm so close." I moan as I tightly grip Alessia's ass.

"Cum baby, cum deep inside of me." Alessia answered.

Creampie #1:

I didn't need to be told twice, as I let out a loud moan. My balls leaking inside Alessia's ass, filling her to the brim. "Fuck baby, it's dripping out of you." I giggle.

"Good, I love being full of your seed." Alessia cutely giggles in response.

"Lay on your back baby." I say spanking Alessia's ass.

Without saying a word Alessia gets in the position I told her too. I slowly lined my length with her entrance leaning in leaving a deep loving on her lips as I entered her pussy.

"How does it feel, being fucked by your best friend's little sister?" I moan taking Alessia right tit in my hand roughly squeezing it.

"So goo Y/n. This feels amazing I've wanted to do this for so long. I've wanted to feel your length inside me for so long." Alessia moans in response sweat dripping down her forehead.

"Same baby Same." I moan in agreement.

I quicken up my thrusts as I begin to fuck her quicker and quicker. Slowly Alessia lifts her legs around my waist and leg traps me so I can't pull out causing me to go deeper.

"F-Fuck Less, I'm close." I moan loudly in pleasure.

"C-Cum in me please. Please cum inside of me." Alessia shouts in pleasure cutely begging for my load.

Creampie #2:

I couldn't take it anymore, the feeling of Alessia's tight pussy. My cum leaks deeply into her pussy painting her walls white. Alessia moans and cums as well, we both moan as my cum spurts and oozes inside her filling her to the brim.

"Fuck baby, your pussy feels amazing." I moaned as I pull out.

"Worth the wait?" Alessia asks.

"Definitely." I giggle.

"Can you give me one more? I've wait so long for this, for you to be inside me." Alessia cutely moans pleading for more cum.

"Of course I can." I reply.

"I want to ride you, ride your length." Alessia begs.

"Yes ma'am." I answer as I sit up, my head against the headboard.

Alessia places her hands on my chest as she lines up her dripping entrance with my dick. I place my hands on her ass, squeezing slightly as she lowered down taking my entire length deep inside her pussy.

"Fuck Less, you feel amazing." I moan.

Alesia doesn't respond as she rides faster. I spank her ass and squeeze it roughly as she bounces up and down her ass rippling with every bounce.

"Fuck baby, go faster." I begged.

Alessia does as I say and goes even faster. The feeling of my balls tightening began to happen knowing this was gonna end soon.

"You close baby? Close to filling me up?" Alessia moans as she wraps her hands around my neck.

"So close baby." I moaned I take her right nipple into my mouth and begin sucking, quieting my moans.

Creampie #3:

5 minutes go by after one final hard bounce from Alessia I let out a loud moan, my balls tightening cum oozing into Alessia's pussy. Filling her up one final time, a last spank to her ass I slowly pull out leaving a kiss of appreciation on her lips.

"That was amazing." Alessia said as I pull away from the kiss.

"Worth that wait." I giggled.

"Let's keep this between us, we can't tell Leah anything." Alessia said.

I agreed we couldn't tell Leah about this. Me fucking her best friend, that would be fair to her at all.

"Yes less, keep this between you and me." I smiled leaving another list full kiss on her lips.

[o-craven-canto]

Recent evolutionary adaptations to the environment in human populations, from Going global by adapting local: A review of recent human adaptation (Fan et al., 2016). The icons show the type of adaptation recorded in various parts of the world, and the acronyms besides (e.g. EDAR1) are the names of the involved genes. Also see Genome-wide detection and characterization of positive selection in human populations (Sabeti et al., 2009), Population Genomics of Human Adaptation (Lachance & Tishkoff, 2013).

Some examples are:

Lactase persistence in Europe, Near East, and East Africa, allowing the digestion of milk in adult age (by default, the lactase required to digest milk sugar would only be produced by infants; this was just a matter of removing a timed switch).

Similarly, greater production of amylase, which breaks down starch, is reported in Europe and Japan (diet based on farmed grains) and among the Hadza of Tanzania (diet based on starchy tubers).

Improved conversion of saturated into unsaturated fatty acids in the Arctic Inuit peoples. This makes it easier to live on a diet of fish and marine mammals in an environment where plant food is scarce.

Smaller stature ("defined as an average height of <150 cm in adult males") in the "pygmy" peoples (Aka and Mbuti) of Central Africa, and other hunter-gatherer peoples in equatorial Asia and South America. This helps shed heat in a hot humid climate where sweat does not evaporate.

More efficient fat synthesis in the Samoa, helping with energy storage at the price of more risk of obesity or diabetes with a richer modern diet.

Improved resistence to malaria, sleeping sickness (trypanosome), and Lassa fever in Subsaharan Africa. Fighting off against parasites is especially difficult (since unlike the inorganic environment, parasites also evolve), so this resistence often comes at a cost, such as anhemia, but is still a great advantage on net. Some improved resistence to arsenic poisoning is noted in an Argentinian population.

Denser red blood cells on the Andean, Ethiopian, and Tibetan highlands, to carry more oxygen which is scarcer at high altitude. I recall from elsewhere that this might increase the risk of thrombosis or strokes due to obstructed blood vessels.

Less melanin (which blocks UV light) and therefore lighter skin color in Eurasia. Melanin shields skin cells from damage due to UV radiations, but some UV light is necessary for the synthesis of vitamin D.

A change in the gene EDAR1, resulting in denser head hair, slightly different tooth shape, and fewer sweat glands (all skin annexes), appears strongly selected for in East Asia, but as far as I can find the advantage of this mutation is still unknown.

From another article (Ilardo et al., 2018): the Sama Bajau people of Indonesia, who have a long tradition of free-diving in apnea, seem to have developed larger spleen to store more oxygenated blood during dives.

[sarcasticbambi]

Spiders

HMB Bingo Board "Stab It!" + Crack

“AHHHHHHHHHH!!”

SMACK!

“There she goes again.”  rings in the heads of the residents of the Wayne Manor.

At this point, everyone is used to Marinette’s fear of spiders and, regardless of Alfred’s countless efforts, the Wayne Manor is an old building with a big magnet for the little hairy creatures.

At first, they used to get startled and think that perhaps they were being attacked, no matter how low the chances were, only an attacker could cause such fear induced screams!

Only to arrive at the room she was in, ready to attack, to find her curled into a corner mumbling curses of all kinds and looking on the verge of tears.

Usually someone removes the spider from the room while Damian helps calm down his girlfriend.

Now, after that fateful incident no one is allowed to talk about, that resulted in a broken chandelier from the Eighteenth Century and a painting of one of the founding fathers of Gotham having dinner with a Wayne, Marinette can proudly say she can safely protect herself from the hairy eight leg devils.

And with that, also came a new source of entertainment for the Waynes: Marinette’s Spider killing skills. She had gathered an arsenal of skills and weapons just to get rid of spiders. Some of which not even World’s Best Detective Family could think of.

Some instances include:

She bought a hand shaped fly swatter to smack them with since she refused to touch them herself.

She bought spider insecticide for each and every room in the Manor so that she was never unprepared. (Made sure to use Damian’s card since it was his house, and he should keep it clean of “bugs”)

One time, she was so startled by the spider falling on the lounge room table she jumped and stole the vacuum from Alfred’s hands and vacuumed the spider.

Another time, when she noticed the insecticides weren’t being very effective, she called her mum who told her that in China, a popular way to remove bugs and insects from the house was to use peppermint essential oil and spray it around. Needless to say, the Manor smelled of peppermint for a good couple of weeks until she found a new method.

Alya also told her that when she was younger, her mum used to make a homemade insect repellent consisting of water, vinegar, pepper, oil and liquid soap and of course, our dearest Maribug decided it was a great idea to spray the house down with it - just like she did with all other methods.

She also recommended they plant Eucalyptus trees to help in keeping them away.

She only didn’t use the “spray/pour alcohol on spiders to kill them” because it had to be done directly to them and she considered it torture and she refused to use underhanded methods.

By now, everyone just rolls with it if Marinette comes into a room, flushed and huffing and asking if they have a weapon Manor never had that many spiders but, somehow, Marinette was always being “attacked” by them, as if they were attracted to her like Moths to Flame.

What was surprising was that Marinette was always very gentle with any insects and/or bugs. Especially Ladybugs, she even kept her habit of growing marigolds, sweet alyssums, calendulas and some more on a terrace garden, both at her apartment and at the Manor, which was usually cared for by Damian when she was not there.

Because of this, it was weird that she was afraid of the arachnids, especially considering how useful and harmless they actually were for the house.

This was all even more suspicious when one day, for Justice League business, Ladybug was given the “honour” of visiting the Batcave.

They first found it fun that Ladybug was afraid of the little spiders that also resided in the Batcave alongside the hanging bats (which by the way, what the heck Batman, really keeping up with the theme no?”), joking around if it was a Parisian thing since they knew a Parisian girl that was also terrified of them.

Then, she started using random objects to smack them if they got too close. Which was weird since the spiders never really came close to them, preferring to stick around the small corners and crevices. But they guessed it had something to do with her creation abilities and agreed to not host another meeting in the cave if it could be influenced by it.

Then, she started using methods that Marinette was often using around the house but improvised in a Ladybug way. Like vacuuming the spiders with the yoyo or presenting a peppermint spray from the endless pocket of space that was the little toy-like weapon.

She even grabbed Agent A’s offered teacup, threw the tea at someone - if the “Hey!” was anything to go by - and used it to cover a spider that decided to crawl across the table towards her. It was almost like she did it unconsciously at this point, because she immediately turned to him and apologised for wasting his tea in such a manner.

The highlight of the meeting was when a spider, hanging from the web, was right in front of her face falling right on her nose, causing the loudest shriek to come from The Guardian of The Miraculous. She jumped nearly five feet, attaching herself to the closest victim - who happened to be Robin - shaking him and screaming Bloody Mary.

“DO SOMETHING!!”

“DO SOMETHING I’M TELLING YOU!!

“What do you mean “do something”? What am I supposed to do, Stab It?” 

“I meant something more along the lines of smacking or trapping it, but I guess that’d also work.”

“I-”

“You know what, I honestly don’t care what you do with it, JUST GET IT OUT OF MY SIGHT”

Insert the loudest and longest sigh ever from both Robin and Batman.

“Ladybug, you are aware of just how unprofessional your beha-”

“Father, it’s alright. It is understandable that some people are frightened of such simple life forms, but if we can do it for Habibti, I don’t see why we can’t do the same for Ladybug tonight, you did say we’d change the meeting location for next time so such incidents could be prevented so I don’t see any issue with enduring it for tonight since it’d only be a hassle to change locations at the point.”

And it was thanks to Robin’s words that Batman shut up. With the argument shut down before it could even be started, Nightwing helped collect this round’s spider, and the meeting continued, with a high alert Ladybug and her trusted peppermint spray in one hand and the yoyo on the other. And every Batfam secretly disposed of any spiders attempting to get closer, none of them showing signs of inconvenience at doing such as to not get noticed by Ladybug. 

Needless to say, that no one paid attention to anything Batman was saying and yet, all proving true the “they all share one brain cell” theory when they busied their minds with thoughts on how cute she looked being so concentrated on getting the spiders - which had reduced significantly since there were very few that managed to get past them.

After the meeting had ended with agreements to rerun the points at the next meeting since no one grasped a single speck of information that night, Ladybug summoned the Horse Miraculous and opened herself a portal to leave.

She had told Damian she was going out for the night for a dinner with Chloe since she was in town, so to not wait for her - the excuse she usually went with whenever she had to go on Ladybug business and didn’t want him to know about it. Chloe was the only one of her friends to live nearby when she moved to Gotham, afterall Metropolis was just a town over so any excuse related to Chloe made sense to the little bug.

She was surprised however, to find the lights on when she got to their apartment’s door and saw Damian up and reading a book on the couch when she got inside.

“I told you not to wait up Damian!”

“I know. But what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t stay up to make sure my precious Angel got home safe?”

“I guess you do have a point… Thank you for waiting up then” she said and went in for a hug, which he readily accepted.

“So, did you have fun? You look a bit tired?”

“Oh, uhhh yeah, it was fun! Ahah, but you know Chloe, it’s always unpredictable with her ahahah”

“Hmmm, that’s true. I guess an entire evening with Chloe would be a bit of a headache.”

“Yeah hahaha”

“Hopefully there were no spiders, right?” “wHAT? NO! I mean no! There were no spiders tonight!” 

Damian smiled softly.   She’s so cute when  flustered.

“Great! I’m sure it’s because of all the ladybugs that come to visit!”

“Wha- what dO yOU mEaN hic-?!” Marinette’s brain was going over a mile a minute trying to process what he was talking about. Afterall, He couldn’t have figured out her identity, right? How would he even find out if she was never around him as Ladybug?!

“Oh, you know, the marigold garden in the balcony attracts lots of ladybugs. And like their name says, they are known to bring lots of luck! So, I’m sure you had no encounter with spiders because of it! We should plant some more!

“Oh, yeah, haha, the balcony marigolds, hahaha.”

“Come on, let’s get ready for bed. I already watered the balcony garden, so you don’t need to worry your little head over it. Tomorrow we can go and get some Bachelor’s Buttons, I read that Ladybugs also like them quite a bit.”

Marinette was too dazed to keep up any coherent thought with him at the moment, settling for just a little nod.

Poor thing, she’s probably stressing so much over it. Well, I’ll keep it up for a bit longer, it’s not every day you find your girlfriend’s secret identity afterall.

Pressing a little kiss to her forehead, Damian guided the poor bug to their room to get some rest for the night.

[ideasengineering]

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[moonyinpisces]

Hi! I finally read HDWTOTL after seeing the cover art submissions on my dash for days. I won’t be emotionally the same ever again. Thank you, genuinely. But anyway, I was wondering if I could get some general writing advice?

I haven’t ever finished a story, and my problem is this: I can’t propel it forward. I have ideas for the beginning or middle of a story, but they’re just vague, disconnected scenes or emotions. I can never bring it to an end. And I can’t seem to bring people from location to location in a way that doesn’t feel very awkward.

Sometimes I look back at the writing I’ve done in a day and I realize it’s nearly all dialogue. Is this just my sign to be a screenwriter?

Or is there another angle to telling a story I’m not seeing?

How does one go from being a shit storyteller to a good one?

Thank you❤️

oh my gosh, thank you for reading hdwtotl and reaching out!! and yes, i can absolutely help you out, i'll throw my thoughts + advice down under the cut <3

i've always struggled with exactly what you're describing until relatively recently. i could get the barebone structure of a story down (beginning, end, vague plot points, dialogue-only scenes, etc.) luckily you mentioned you have disconnected emotions as one of the building blocks, which is, imo the most important thing you can have as a writer.

all that writing is is having an emotion and using all the tools in your arsenal to make someone else experience that same emotion.

that's all it is. what you're describing re: pacing and progression are all valid concerns, but i think you should remove that from the equation for now and just focus on what certain plot ideas make you feel, and how to evoke that feeling in others. personally, i struggle with properly explaining myself UNLESS i'm writing fiction. like, i can't tell you what i'm feeling, but i can make you feel the same way, and in the end we're now on the same wavelength. i don't think that's THE way to write, but it's the way i approach it and i couldn't do it any other way.

as to how to grow/push past what you're specifically struggling with: i think what helped me the most to develop myself as a writer is write the world around you. if you saw a sunset over farm hills in late october, how would you describe that to depict the feeling it evoked in you? the chilliness, perhaps spookiness, the beauty WITH the context that it's ushering in darkness, the dying plants, the cows huddling for warmth, the sound of a passing train. both the material and the immaterial work together in tandem in fiction -- what does the narrator sense from both? do that until it becomes second nature; if i see something incredible irl, you best believe my mental typewriter is going nuts. (the bentley scene in chapter 11 of hdwtotl had existed in my brain for MONTHS sentence-by-sentence WITH paragraph breaks before i finally got it down lol)

so if i were you, that's what i'd work on first before trying to bring it bigger picture with a beginning-middle-end as i think your pacing will naturally develop from it as well. what do you see, how do you feel, and how can the reader come away with both of those things without having been where you are themselves. also single scene oneshots to get in some practice translating that to fictional spaces.

good luck, i hope you break past this!! we need more storytellers out there

[jacksoldsideblog]

trying to imagine the toxicity of Paper Street Soap Company soap,

points of consideration:

-the pipes at paper street house are almost certainly corroded. hello lead

-do you suppose they're on city water or a private well? with the second, there's definitely potential groundwater contamination with solvents and heavy metals from the paper mill

-the fat of an animal is where most non-polar contaminants are accumulated — all your chlorinated pesticides, your dioxins and furans, all the POPs (persistent organic pollutants). regardless of the bougieness of the visitors of the liposuction clinic, there's probably some accumulated organic contaminants. however, the process of making tallow may completely remove them — i can't find a good answer, and my gut says it would either completely remove them or hyperconcentrate them

-once they get a garden going, they're actually bioextracting any heavy metals in the soil (of which there are certainly many due to the nearby paper mill. cadmium, arsenic... probably some POPs too but they may break down due to the actions of the plant, bioremediation isn't my speciality) and i believe there's a high likelyhood this would get into the soap, especially if they were adding shredded bits for artsy texture... like with tallow, making essential oils may clear or concentrate these things

-microplastics almost certainly

overall i'd give it a pretty strong: maybe don't rub your hands in it several times a day for an indefinite period of time

plus, if the soap is marketed as moisturizing or deodorizing or "making you smell nice" then it's considered a cosmetic, and as the FDA helpfully says:

"Neither the product nor its ingredients need approval by FDA, except for any color additives it contains. It is your responsibility to make sure your product is safe for consumers when it is used as intended, and to make sure it is properly labeled. You don’t need to register your company or file your product formulations with FDA"

this means if you say your soap is moisturizing or nice smelling, you can avoid it being regulated by the CPSC and having to do lead testing if it will be used by children!

cosmetics (which are often applied to very sensitive skin and right near mucosal membranes) have been shown more and more to have heavy metals, microplastics, and organic contaminants in them, and companies are incentivized to ensure their product is classified as such since it reduces regulation (cost).

so yeah — Tyler Durden's soap is probably bad for you. but just remember, the same rules that would allow him to sell soap made from people and filled with pollutants are those that apply to the very large companies we are forced to implicitly trust our safety with :)

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[bacteriashowdown]

Aerobic vs. Anaerobic bacteria

In my last metabolism post, I tried not to get too weighed down in the weeds of cellular respiration. But now I want to talk about it.

I've mentioned before that aerobic bacteria are those that "breathe" oxygen, while anaerobic bacteria are those that don't. But what does it even mean for a bacteria to breathe?

If you read that last post, I think it's quickest to explain like this:

But this process of respiration, that all known lifeforms partake in, deserves a more detailed explanation.

Cellular respiration happens when a cell oxidizes a chemical (called the "electron donor") by transferring an electron from it over to an "electron acceptor". For aerobic bacteria, the acceptor is oxygen. For anaerobic bacteria, it could be any number of things. The electron acceptor is also known as the oxidizing agent.

To clarify some terminology: in chemistry, "oxidation" can be thought of as the process of adding charge to an atom (More precisely, it is increasing the atom's oxidation state, which can also be done by sharing an electron though a covalent bond). The opposite is "reduction", or the process of reducing charge. Since electrons are negatively charged, this translates to oxidation being the removal of an electron, while reduction is the addition of an electron. Thus, for example, an "iron-reducing bacteria" is a species who uses iron as an electron acceptor, and an "iron-oxidizing bacteria" is a species who uses iron as an electron donor.

Let's do an example to tie all the elements of metabolism together: plants. We can pick up from where I left off in the last post, but a bit more accurately. Plants use light for energy (phototrophy), and they are lithotrophic because their electrons are sourced from an inorganic source: water. They are autotrophs because they use carbon dioxide as a carbon source. The aerobic/anaerobic part of respiration happens after all of this, when the energy is extracted from those carbohydrates. Plants use aerobic respiration: the carbohydrate molecules react with oxygen, where they convert back into water, carbon dioxide, and energy in the form of a molecule called ATP (adenosine triphosphate).

This is why my chart clarifies that the respiration is about the final electron acceptor: plants do not use oxygen in the initial reaction, during photosynthesis. It is only when the plant extracts energy from the carbohydrates produced via photosynthesis that oxygen plays an important role.

The reason why we care about whether or not organisms use oxygen in cellular respiration is because, among other things, oxygen is an extremely efficient oxidizing agent. Perhaps that's not very surprising, given the name, but I'm talking on the order of aerobic bacteria being some 15 times more efficient in synthesizing ATP than their anaerobic counterparts.

...okay, I really should talk about ATP. I'm no biochemist, so just know that it is a molecule that can be thought of as the energy "currency" of cells. Fun fact: all cellular respiration, aerobic or anaerobic, is for the purpose of creating ATP. Literally every living thing on the planet makes and uses it.

But if ATP is so good, and it's easier to make with oxygen, then why do we have anaerobic bacteria? Well, the ability of anaerobic bacteria to use electron acceptors other than oxygen makes them remarkably adaptable as organisms. This flexibility allows them to thrive in diverse environments. Also, Earth was not born with the oxygen-rich atmosphere it has today, and so the earliest lifeforms were anaerobic. Only when the cyanobacteria invented oxygenic photosynthesis, and filled the atmosphere with oxygen, was aerobic life able to develop.

Some more common molecules for anaerobic bacteria to use as final electron acceptors are nitrite, nitrate, sulfur, and sulfate. Some bacteria use metals, including iron, manganese, cobalt, and even uranium. Other metals are used in oxidized forms, such as selenium (as selenate) and arsenic (as arsenate), which is toxic to nearly all other life. I think that's pretty neat.

[fatehbaz]

The “death map” tells the story of decades of sickness in the small northwest New Mexico communities of Murray Acres and Broadview Acres. Turquoise arrows point to homes where residents had thyroid disease, dark blue arrows mark cases of breast cancer, and yellow arrows mean cancer claimed a life. 

Neighbors built the map a decade ago after watching relatives and friends fall ill and die.

Dominating the top right corner of the map, less than half a mile from the cluster of colorful arrows [...] : 22.2 million tons of uranium waste left over from milling ore to supply power plants and nuclear bombs. “We were sacrificed a long time ago,” said Candace Head-Dylla, who created the death map with her mother after Head-Dylla had her thyroid removed and her mother developed breast cancer. [...]

Beginning in 1958, a uranium mill owned by Homestake Mining Company of California processed and refined ore mined nearby. The waste it left behind leaked uranium and selenium into groundwater and released the cancer-causing gas radon into the air.

State and federal regulators knew the mill was polluting groundwater almost immediately after it started operating, but years passed before they informed residents and demanded fixes. [...]

---

Uranium mining and milling left a trail of contamination and suffering, from miners who died of lung cancer while the federal government kept the risks secret to the largest radioactive spill in the country’s history. But for four decades, the management of more than 250 million tons of radioactive uranium mill waste has been largely overlooked, continuing to pose a public health threat. [...] At Homestake, which was among the largest mills, the company is bulldozing a community in order to walk away. Interviews with dozens of residents, along with radon testing and thousands of pages of company and government records, reveal a community sacrificed to build the nation's nuclear arsenal and atomic energy industry. [...]

In 2014, an EPA report confirmed the site posed an unacceptable cancer risk and identified radon as the greatest threat to residents’ health. Still, the cleanup target date continued shifting, to 2017, then 2022. Rather than finish the cleanup, Homestake’s current owner, the Toronto-based mining giant Barrick Gold, is now preparing to ask the Nuclear Regulatory Commission, the independent federal agency that oversees the cleanup of uranium mills, for permission to demolish its groundwater treatment systems and hand the site and remaining waste over to the U.S. Department of Energy to monitor and maintain forever. Before it can transfer the site to the Department of Energy, Homestake must prove that the contamination, which exceeds federal safety levels, won’t pose a risk to nearby residents [...].

Part of Homestake’s strategy: buy out nearby residents and demolish their homes. [...] Property records reveal the company had, by the end of 2021, purchased 574 parcels covering 14,425 acres around the mill site. This April, Homestake staff indicated they had 123 properties left to buy. One resident said the area was quickly becoming a “ghost town.”

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Even after the community is gone, more than 15,000 people who live nearby, many of them Indigenous, will continue to rely on water threatened by Homestake’s pollution. [...]

At the state level, New Mexico regulators waited until 2009, 49 years after first finding water pollution, to issue a formal warning that groundwater included substances that cause cancer and birth defects. [...] Other uranium mines and mills polluted the area’s main drinking water aquifer upstream of Homestake. [...]

More than 500 abandoned uranium mines pockmark the Navajo Nation [...].

Leaders of communities downstream from Homestake, including the Pueblo of Acoma, fear that wishful thinking could allow pollution from the waste to taint their water. The Acoma reservation, about 20 miles from Homestake’s tailings, has been continuously inhabited since before 1200. Its residents use groundwater for drinking and surface water for irrigating alfalfa and corn, but Donna Martinez, program coordinator for the pueblo’s Environment Department, said the pueblo government can’t afford to do as much air and water monitoring as staff would like. [...]

Most days, Billiman contemplates this “poison” and whether she and Boomer might move away from it [...]. “Then, we just say ‘hózho náhásdlii, hózho náhásdlii’ four times.” “All will be beautiful again,” Boomer roughly translated. [...] Now, as a registered nurse tending to former uranium miners, Langford knows too much about the dangers. When it’s inhaled, radon breaks down in the lungs, releasing bursts of radiation that can damage tissue and cause cancer. Her patients have respiratory issues as well as lung cancer. They lose their breath simply lifting themselves out of a chair.

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Text by Mark Olalde and Maya Miller. “A Uranium Ghost Town in the Making.” ProPublica. 8 August 2022. [Some paragraph breaks and contractions added by me.]