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wosoragebaiter69 · 8 months

Text

a bad batch

barça femeni x teen!reader

request: here

A/N: do you guys ever wonder what showers in the diff teams lockerooms look like? is it just a big room with showers and they’re all naked together or is there cubicals? if anyone knows please enlighten me

TW: Vomit, illness, swearing

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

It wasn’t your fault really, it was whoever decided that the KFC given to you was actually safe to eat. Don’t they have quality managers for that? Despite it literally having feathers on it still, it was pretty meh. Not even enjoyable chicken.

That’s how you find yourself hunched over a toilet bowl, throwing up all contents of your stomach and more. You’re sweating but cold, you definitely know you have a fever or sorts but you’re uncertain how bad.

Worse thing is, training was supposed to start in 5 minutes. No way you were getting there now, not like this.

You shoot a quick message off to Jona explaining you don’t feel well and it’s probably something you ate. He replies quickly saying the usual of taking off however long is needed to get back to full recovery.

What’s the one thing you don’t consider in all this? You’re very overprotective teammates.

You end up puking more, and passing out on the bathroom floor due to exhaustion, the cool tiles feeling magical against the heat your body radiates.

- - - - -

You’re awoken by harsh knocks on your door. Your head hurts, your throat is scratchy, you’re dizzy and delusional, you feel like shit.

You stumble toward the door, opening it to see Frido and Keira.

“Jesus.” The Englishwoman says before pressing a firm hand and against your ablaze skin.

“Jona told us you said it was a light sickness? This is bad.” She says, rushing inside with the blonde Swede behind her. You were teammates with Frido on a national level as well so she took on more of a role while you settled in Barcelona.

“Come on, you shouldn’t be standing älskling (darling). Sit down, come.” She rests her hand on your back guiding you to the couch to sit down.

“Have you eaten?” She wipes away the sweaty hair away from your forehead.

“No.” You whisper softly.

“Ok, we’ll get you to eat and then into a bath ok? If we don’t get this fever down we might have to take you to a hospital.” The words compute in your mind, you don’t want a hospital. You just have to follow what the older 2 say and you’ll be fine. That’s what you tell yourself at least.

- - - - -

After eating a couple spoons of chicken broth Keira gave you, you’re taken to the bathroom and stripped into your sports bra and bike pants.

“Get in the water älskling, you’ll feel better I promise.” Frido kisses the side of your head, helping you in the bath.

It’s cold, and you do not like it.

“Frido, cold.” You whimper, trying to get out.

“I know but you have to stay. This is needed, trust me?” Her heart breaks at the sight of you in so much discomfort. But she knows it’s for the better.

You cry, along with everything else you’re feeling now, you’re cold and not allowed to move. Keira starts to stroke through your hair whispering soft words of affirmation.

“Shh bub, stop crying. You’re ok, it’s all gonna be ok.” She looks over to her teammate who is measuring your fever.

“It’s still a bit high, 37.8. Just a little longer älskling, then you can go to sleep does that sound ok to you?” You can’t even recognise her statement, only focusing on the cold your body feels.

After a couple more minutes, the girls decide you’ve had enough time to cool down so they change you into fresh pajamas, putting you to sleep in your own room before coming up with ways to hopefully get you to feel better.

- - - - -

When you wake up again a couple hours later, you feel even worse. Every body part aches and you feel the need to throw up again. So, you muster up all the energy you have and make a bee-line to the toilet.

Luckily making it in time, you spill more contents of your stomach. Someone has tied your hair back but you can’t will yourself to move.

“Hey, relax.” The accented voice says. You do as told and fall into Caroline. When did she get here? But you do as told, not wanting to feel this way any longer.

“Feel like shit.” You mumble, exhausted.

“I know, Marta and Ingrid are also here now. We will check your temperature soon ok? Right now you just need to not stress and stay here alright?” She runs her fingers up and down the sides of your torso until Ingrid comes in.

“I’ve got the thermometer. Could you open your mouth for me?” You open it without question, and she visibly cringes at the reading when she takes a look at it.

“This is not good, this isn’t normal. Look.” She shows it to her national teammate. Who also cringes.

“Tell the others to pack her stuff, get Frido here. Tell her the temperature and we need to go to the hospital.” This is when you start to worry, even in your delirious state.

There’s commotion outside the walls of your bathroom but you can’t will yourself to care, slumped against Caro hoping you’ll feel better soon.

Frido rushes inside, picking you up off the floor. She rushes to the car and gets in the backseat. In the front is Keira and Ingrid, in another car is presumably the other couple.

- - - - -

Arriving at the emergency department, you’re immediately taken to a private room where they hook you up to machines and an IV. You try to fight them, feeling too overwhelmed by the situation but Frido takes the chance to hold your hand in hopes of calming you down.

“Deep breaths älskling, it’s not too long before they’re gone.” Her words are a comfort to your ears, and she’s right because the doctors leave soon after that.

You look down at the little thermometer on your finger, showing the temperature of your skin. 41.5°.

You cringe like all the other girls who had seen it previously. Despite your hatred for hospitals, you’re happy because it means that the pain should go away sooner.

Frido has been on the phone for a bit, and she walks over to you.

“Magda wants to speak with you.” She smiles lightly, and you take the phone holding it against your ear.

“Hi Magda.” You say, voice an octave higher than usual.

“Hey little one, heard you weren’t feeling too great. Are the girls treating you right?” You hum.

“Yeah, they’re good.” She seems content with the answer.

“Ok good, we need you healthy for the next camp. Can’t have the mini star gone.” You laugh slightly at the given nickname.

“Alright pass me back to Frido, stay well and don’t do anything stupid. Please.” She begs over-dramatically.

“Come on, I’m not that bad!” You laugh, even if it made your stomach slightly hurt.

“Sure, sure. Talk to you later little one.”

“Bye Mags.” You pass it back to the older Swede and the door to your room opens revealing Mapi and Alexia.

Alexia walks over to you, concern visible between her brows. Mapi heads straight to Ingrid. (Not a surprise).

“You don’t look well at all. I’m not sure how you managed to text Jona.” You shrug, she takes a long breath.

“We’ll talk about saying how sick you actually are later, for now you should get some rest. We’ll be here when you wake up.” You do as told, quickly falling asleep without fight.

- - - - -

Over the coming days, the girls watch over you like hawks until they’re sure you’re better and you won’t snap in half at a slight gust of wind. It got annoying, but you couldn’t really say no when they were just trying to make it easier for you.

Whenever you threw up, cried in pain or overall didn’t want to do anything. One of the girls would be there to take any anguish you had away. No matter what, Barca isn’t just a team. But also a family.

—————————————————————————

sleekswosobsession: number 1 writer for cringe ending lines

anyways i need help from you anons, i have an english short story (800 word) narrative coming up but i need ideas.. i’m a writer not creative producer. but i do know that YOU have some ideas so please give it to me. these are the topics:

1. betrayal of trust

2. consequence of bad timing

3. Individual against society

(go wild but not too wild cuz i have to give it to my teacher)

#woso #woso community #woso x reader #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni #barca femeni #barcelona femeni x reader #barca femeni x reader

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wosoluver · 6 months

Text

To undo a mistake

part 2/17 - previous - next

Lena x Bayern player!reader

Lena Oberdorf Masterlist

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

In front of me with her back turned was Lena.

Kissing a girl who had been cheering on from the stands the whole game.

Wearing her jersey too. I wondered if it was the same one I sent back in a box full of her stuff, the week after our last call.

It hurt. Like someone was ripping the last bit of hope you had, that there was a chance she would call one of these days and tell you she made a stupid mistake.

Out of everything that could've happened, that was the one you were least ready for.

Maybe just the fact that the break up was done through the phone, alone, should of raised a big red flag.

Should of raised the awareness that maybe you didn't know her like you thought you did.

That maybe, most likely, she wasn't the girl you fell for.

At that brought up so much anger. At first you kept fighting with yourself. With the feeling in your gut.

Trying to figure out what was going through her mind. And when you couldn't, it turned into you making up excuses for her.

But now reality had sinked in. You had tried so hard to keep this bitter feelings away. But you couldn't anymore.

The worst part in this, was that you had no right to say anything. You couldn't actually blame her for moving on with her life. What you could do, was blame her for being an asshole. And that you did.

You felt so embarrassed in front of your teammates. You wanted earth to swallow you whole.

You pushed it away momentarily though. You didn't want to be that person. Or didn't want them to think you were. The type that would throw away her professionalism because of some fling that happened to not work out.

Like that was more important, than the career you were building. The one thing you were dedicating yourself to, that wouldn't wake up one day and leave you.

You held your feelings in the whole trip back home. The girls didn't dare to talk to you. They saw on your face it wasn't a good idea.

Arriving home you exploded. You let that anger back out. You were red, your head felt like it could burst at any minute and you cried from anger.

You had the next day off. Sundays home were rare. And you thanked the universe. You didn't have to get up early, to get out of bed, to think, to exist.

And Monday rolled around rather quick. You were well rested. And all you wanted was to go training. To occupy your mind and let those cruel feelings out. Could even consider yourself to be excited.

That didn't last too long though.

As soon as you got to the locker room to get ready for the day, coach pulled you a side to talk about your failing performance.

After that sent you straight to the therapist's office. And if you refused, you'd have to sit out next couple of games.

Couldn't risk it.

Going into the waiting area, it was a pain knowing the therapist would only be in, in around 20 minutes and there was still someone else waiting to go in before you.

She gave you a slight tight lip smile as you sat next to her.

You knew her.

She had just arrived to the Bayern.

"Here for an appointment too?" - She asked sympathetic to the look in your face.

"Yep. Poor Performance. You?"

"Injury recovery."

You nodded along. -"The physio's room is the other way." - Immediately receiving a confused face from her.

"I'm joking!" - putting your hands up in defense. As she cracked a sly smile. - "I'm Y/N, we haven't had the chance to meet yet."

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

I sooo excited for this story! Might post another part tonight! Hopefully next part has a little more stuff going on.

Who are we thinking the girl is? Or who do you wish it was?

If you want to support my work, there's a link in my pined post!

Lots of love 🩷

Taglist: @wosos-world

#woso #womens football #woso x reader #lena oberdorf x reader #lena oberdorf #vfl wolfsburg frauen #fc bayern frauen

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shiny-crocodile · 3 months

Text

the best person i've ever met

lucy bronze x ona batlle

Summary

lucy and ona origin story; semi-slow burn, semi-quick; multi chapters that will get a little smutty

chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8, chapter 9, chapter 10

CHAPTER 9

chapter summary: finals and thighs

chapter notes: tough day for the lucy girls and the luna girls, hopefully this helps just a little x

smut

As Lucy landed back in Barcelona her eyes were sore, already missing her little nurse.

Goodbyes were always impossibly difficult, especially when you go from spending 24 hours a day with a person to nothing.

It was going to be 3 long weeks until they could see each other again, with Lucy needing to fully focus on getting fit for the champions league final, while Ona had an FA Cup final of her own to prepare for.

The distance was gruelling. Lucy was kept relatively distracted by her rehab but Ona was finding it incredibly hard to be away from her girlfriend while she was injured, wanting to constantly check in but also wanting to be that escape for Lucy, for their evening calls to be a chance to take the older girl’s mind off the pretty horrible day she probably just had. So the Spaniard had to find other methods of checking on her.

“Pleeeeease tell your girlfriend to stop messaging me for updates on your knee,” Jana said from her own physio bed.

“Girlfriend? What?” Mariona asked while getting herself strapped up for training.

Lucy rolled her eyes at Jana who faked an apologetic gasp.

“Ona,” the right back said, a slight smile creeping across her face, she loved being able to tell people.

“BATLLE?” Mariona asked, in disbelief that someone else knew before she did.

“That’s the one,” Lucy confirmed proudly.

“What the hell Lucy?” Mariona said, throwing a box of bandages at her supposed friend’s head. “Who knows?”

“Umm,” Lucy stuttered, scared of what would be thrown next, “most people.”

A bottle of antiseptic flew across the room, earning Mariona stern looks from the medical staff present.

Lucy hadn’t been hiding it after her and Ona agreed to tell people, but she’d brought it up in a natural way to the majority of the team rather than some big announcement, Mariona just clearly hadn’t happened to be there any of those times.

“I’m hurt,” Mariona said, half joking half serious as she strutted towards the exit for training.

Barcelona’s number 9 stopped at the door, turning, “but I’m very happy for you and you will make it up to me by driving me home after training and telling me everything.”

“But I’m injured-“ Lucy called after her but she was long gone.

“Aaaaanyway,” Jana continued, pretending the reveal hadn’t happened, “can you please just update her so I don’t have to.”

Lucy sighed, “fine.” She was huffing at Jana but it melted her heart how Ona could care for her from thousands of miles away.

Lucy - hey bonita, I’m getting grief for you asking about me

Lucy - I’m doing good, knee feels better and they’re all impressed with how quick the swelling has gone down and that I’m nearly ready to walk without crutches

Lucy - so shoutout to my nurse, who I miss and love very much xx

Ona - bet i can guess which of my private investigators failed me

Ona - but glad to hear it cariño, very proud of you

Ona - miss and love you very much too xx

///

The next two weeks were harder than the first one for Lucy’s recovery regime, feeling she was racing against time to be ready.

The medical staff were insane, she was insane.

Obviously the recovery race against Frido only spurred her on, and somehow it was actually looking like they would both be back for the final, Lucy’s 4th champions league final.

“I got medical clearance!” Lucy said as soon as Ona answered the phone, 3 days before the final.

“Oh my god!” Ona said through a mouth full of pizza. “That’s amazing Luce.”

“Oh sorry are you eating?”

Ona stood up from the table to walk out into the street, “just out for dinner but don’t worry, finishing up.”

The Spaniard was in Sardinia with some Man U teammates, celebrating the season while Lucy’s was nearing its end.

“So you’re feeling good?” Ona asked, leaning against a wall in the seaside town.

“Yeah really good. I mean I would’ve liked to be a bit fitter but I’m good,” Lucy herself was laying on the sofa, fiddling with the chord of her hoodie.

“You’re fit enough,” Ona joked, drawing a laugh out of her girlfriend, “I miss that laugh.”

“I miss those bad jokes,” Lucy said, “I’ll let you get back to dinner, can’t wait to see you.”

Ona leaned her head back on the wall, she really did miss the girl a ridiculous amount.

“Thank you for calling, I’m so proud of you, you’re a superstar.”

“Love you,” Lucy said, Ona’s words making her feel proud of herself too.

“Love you too, bye cariño.”

“Bye bonita.”

Ona took an extra minute for a breather after putting her phone back in her pocket. She really was proud of Lucy, but also an overwhelming feeling of relief after fearing the state the English girl would be in if she wasn’t ready in time.

It had been an exhausting few weeks, made worse by not being by her side through it, but it would all be worth it in just 3 days when she’d be able to watch her girlfriend in a Champions League final!

///

“What do you mean the flight is cancelled?”

“Exactly that ma’am.”

Ona was raging. Her flight to Eindhoven from Sardinia had already been delayed by 2 hours and now the passengers had been rounded up to be told their flight wasn’t going to happen at all.

“So what? Are you going to just leave us stranded here then?”

“An additional flight will be put on tomorrow to take you to your destination,” the flight attendant said, everything infuriatingly rehearsed and unhelpful for Ona.

“Fantastic,” the Spaniard said as she spun around, marching over to a free chair where she flung her bag, fingers on her temples as she tried to think of a solution.

The game was due to kick off in 4 hours. She was already cutting it fine because of the delay and now she was stuck in Sardinia, alone.

The Spaniard couldn’t stop tears flowing from her eyes, overcome with anger and disappointment.

She got her phone out to message Lucy, not wanting to disturb her but also not wanting her to worry over not seeing her in the crowd.

Ona - flight has been cancelled. Stuck here for the night. I’m so sorry.

Before she could even lock it, her phone instantly rang.

“Hi.”

“You ok?” Lucy asked immediately, sensing the stress in Ona’s message and short greeting.

“Not really. I can’t believe this is happening. I should have come yesterday, I’m so sorry,” Ona said at a rapid pace while the tears still flowed.

“Hey, hey, breathe,” Lucy said soothingly, somehow instantly calming in the younger girl.

“Sorry, I just want to be there and now I’m stuck,” Ona had barely even looked at other options, she was too stressed and not able to think logically.

But that’s what Lucy was in her life for, searching on her phone, headphones in while on her pre game walk.

“Look, I’ve just found a flight leaving to Barcelona in an hour. Let me book it for you now. We are flying straight back after the game so I’ll see you so soon, ok?”

“Ok, thank you,” Ona said, she wasn’t really ok. She wanted to be at the game and she was angry with the world.

“It’s done,” Lucy said, “go get yourself a drink and I’ll see you soon.”

“You’re unbelievable, thank you,” Ona said, amazed at the English girl’s ability to calm her down and sort her out within minutes, right before one of the biggest games of her life.

“I gotta go Ona, but call me if you need anything, ok?” Lucy said, rushing to keep up with her teammates.

“Lucy you’re about to play a Champions League final. I’ll be fine. Go shine.”

As they said their goodbyes Ona made her way to the bar to drown her sorrows, hoping it would help her see some kind of bright side but at the moment there was none.

///

“Hey Lucia, you know who that is?” Mariona asked, pointing over at the Wolfsburg team as the players took their kick off positions.

“Who?” Lucy asked confused.

“Number 13, that’s Feli Rauch,” Mariona said, raising her eyebrows with a cheeky smile.

Lucy knew exactly who Feli Rauch was, an ex-fling of Ona’s. The two girls had previously reminisced about the Spaniard cheering on a losing Germany in the Euros final, or at least pretending to.

“Oh,” Lucy said, a mischievous look plastering her face as she rubbed her hands together, “this is gonna be more fun than I thought. Now we really gotta win.”

Meanwhile, Ona had managed to find a bar in Barcelona to watch the game, a vast improvement from her phone she thought she’d have to settle for.

She chewed down on her fingernails with the game not going the way they wanted, 2-0 down at half time. But there was an energy shift at the half from the whole team, including Lucy who looked like she was having a bit more fun, especially with a face familiar for Ona.

The English right back was relentless, getting under Feli’s skin at every opportunity, the cheekiest of smiles on her face throughout. She wasn’t the only one enjoying herself, Ona was sat in a bar in Barcelona eating it up.

She knew that Lucy was fully aware of what she was doing, also fully aware that Ona would be watching. It was as if she was putting on a show, even side eyeing the camera as she tackled Feli. She may as well have said “hey Ona, you seeing this?” through the screen.

And wow was she seeing it, having to constantly sip her drink to keep her cheeks from burning up and to try distract her from how hot her girlfriend was and how she wished she was there to witness this in person.

///

Barcelona won the game, as they secretly always knew they would, just wanting to give the fans a heart attack en route.

Once the on pitch celebrations were done and dusted, Lucy finally got her phone back, unlocking it to hundreds of notifications, but she knew which she was going to first.

Ona - 4X Champions League winner!

Ona - wow wow wow!!! Unbelievably proud of you mi amor xx

Lucy didn’t even have to look at any of the other messages, that was the only one she needed. Before ditching her phone to return to the celebrations, she sent Ona the address for the after party to meet at later, but the Spaniard had other ideas.

///

As the girls made their way back through Barcelona airport, slightly drunk from the post game festivities they’d already had, they were swarmed with fans.

It was like they were A list celebrities, being pulled in every which way and direction, phones shoved in their faces.

“Lucy, photo!” a fan shouted, handing Lucy her phone, who turned the camera to take the photo.

The English girl jumped as she saw a familiar face next to hers.

“Ona!” she shouted, spinning around to pull her number one fan into the tightest of hugs, faces buried in each others necks.

They stayed in this position, neither letting go as a couple of tears fell from Lucy’s eyes. The emotion and intensity of the day finally getting to her, combined with the joy of seeing her girlfriend after weeks apart as they muttered loving words into each other’s necks.

“Are you crying?!” a Spanish accent chimed from behind Ona.

“No, shut up Mario,” Lucy said, quickly wiping her face as she pulled away from the hug.

“You totally were,” Mariona mocked, “Sandra, Laia, come look at this!!”

“Oh no, did you run out of protein drink?” Laia chimed in.

“Did someone hide your texting Ona device?” Paños joining the action.

“Leave her alone guys,” Alexia intervened.

Lucy sighed, “thank you.”

“She clearly just lost her streak on duolingo,” Alexia snuck in, earning a high five from her teammates.

Lucy gave the biggest eye roll of all time as she turned around to Ona, who was smiling away, loving what she was seeing. “Did you-“

“Nope, not you!” Lucy said, putting one hand over Ona’s mouth to muffle the rest of her question while wrapping the other arm round her shoulder to guide her out of the airport.

Taxis and coaches were waiting outside to take the players and their friends and families to the after party destination.

The intention was to share the vehicles, but Lucy wasn’t having any of that, shouting “this one’s full!” to Mariona, pulling the door closed behind her and Ona, instructing the driver to leave with a “vamos.”

“Hey,” Lucy said, turning to Ona now that Mariona and co were just specks in the distance of the rear window.

The younger girl pulled the winner in by her medal, kissing her for the first time in 3 weeks.

Lucy moved her hand up Ona’s thigh as she deepened the kiss, reacquainting her tongue with the inside of the Spaniard’s mouth.

“I’ve missed you so so so much,” Lucy said as they pulled away, straightening out their clothes. “Did you watch the game? Not my best was it?” Lucy said, slightly joking in a self deprecating way.

“Don’t even joke,” Ona said, “do you know how crazy it is that you were even playing a Champions League final that soon after surgery? You are amazing.”

Lucy didn’t necessarily agree but she knew it was pointless arguing, so she snapped out of it.

“Met your ex,” she said cheekily, gently running her hands up and down the younger girl’s thigh.

“Oh I saw, that was pretty fucking hot,” the younger girl admitted, gently stroking along Lucy’s jaw line.

The English girl saw the lust in her girlfriend’s eyes and missed her lips already, bringing her in for another kiss.

“You look insane by the way, that tan, I’m jealous,” Lucy said, leaning back to admire Ona’s sunkissed skin before kissing along her exposed collarbone. “Mmm you taste like holidays. Tell me all about it.”

The rest of the ride was filled with Ona giving all the details on her week away, Lucy listening so intently it was as if it was the best part of her day, despite winning the Champions League a few hours ago.

“Ready?” Lucy asked, squeezing the Spaniard’s thigh as they pulled up to the club.

“Let’s do this,” Ona responded, giving Lucy a soft peck before shimmying out of the car.

Despite everyone knowing about their relationship now, this is the first time a lot of people will be witnessing it. Both girls were feeling a little apprehensive but mainly excited at being able to openly be together in front of their friends.

Ona latched on to Lucy’s arm as they entered, before being forced to detach as she was swarmed by cooing friends.

The English girl watched on fondly as her girlfriend was showered in hugs and kisses.

The music was a little too loud and the Spanish a little too fast for her to understand what was being said, before Ona reached a hand out to her to pull her in.

“So we’re going down to a villa an hour from Cadiz for a few days which will be really nice,” Ona said, switching to English for Lucy’s benefit.

The Spaniard really was making the most of not being so secret, her hand tucked up the back of Lucy’s shirt, delicately grazing her fingers over the older girl.

“It’s actually so crazy seeing you two together,” Jana said, noticing the back stroking, “I would have never guessed you when Ona was going on and on and on about this girl.”

“Oh yeah? On and on?” Lucy said, she could have shut it down but she wanted to see a bit of Ona teasing now, she’d had her turn.

Jana, a couple drinks down her now but never one to be discreet, revealed, “yeah wouldn’t stop talking about the best person she’d ever met, and the best sex she’d ever had.”

The rest of the group erupted in laughter while Ona removed all points of contact with Lucy to push and fake strangle her big mouthed friend.

“It’s true,” Jana called out while being attacked.

Ona spun around, saying “I’m getting a drink,” and walking off to the bar.

The English girl stayed where she was for a minute as the conversation moved on before deciding to follow Ona.

“Like a lost puppy without her, Lucia,” Vicky shouted after her, earning a middle finger from Lucy.

///

As the night went on the girlfriends never left each others side, hands all over each other.

This party was a lot wilder than the last, there were shots, lots of them, and dancing on stages, tables, everywhere. Not just any dancing, sexy Spanish dancing.

While the rest of the team mingled and switched partners, Ona’s arse spent most of the evening grinding down on Lucy’s front. The others soon gave up on trying to drag them away from each other to dance, letting them have the private party they clearly wanted.

“Shall we get some fresh air,” Lucy whispered into Ona’s ear, getting a nod in return before linking hands to go out the back of the club.

The older girl walked them over to a more hidden spot, although there was no one outside at all.

Ona stared at Lucy’s lips with a longing that made the inebriated taller girl push the younger one backwards, hands either side of her head to pin her against the wall before attaching their tequila soaked lips.

After cranking up the sexual tension with their dancing, the two girls desperately needed some kind of release.

“Need you,” Ona pleaded, “want your thigh,”prompting Lucy to push her leg up between the younger girl’s legs, resting her foot on a slightly higher ledge on the wall.

The kiss growing messier, the Spaniard started grinding down on Lucy’s thigh, getting exactly what she needed and knowing this wouldn’t take long after how much they’d worked each other up inside.

Ona looked incredible, not playing any football for a week made her treat this like a full body workout as a wet patch formed on Lucy’s leg.

Looking into each other’s eyes, Ona could see that her girlfriend could easily come as well, so she moved her free hand between Lucy’s legs, rubbing at the seem of her jeans as the older girl moaned loudly.

“Shh,” Ona ordered, but Lucy, not one to be told what to do, wasn’t having any of that.

She slipped her hand up Ona’s top, getting a handful of her chest, drawing out an even louder moan from the younger girl.

“Fuuuuuck,” Ona groaned, not able to hold it in any longer as she came apart, fingers rubbing harder against Lucy for a few moments before she joined the younger girl in a state of bliss.

Lucy leant down to whisper into the shorter girl’s ear, “you’re the best sex I’ve ever had too by the way, let’s go back to mine.”

Ona bit down on her lip, she could quite easily come quickly again from Lucy’s words, but instead she was pulled back into the party, Lucy hornier than ever.

“Have fun out there?” Jana teased as the girls said their goodbyes. Everyone noticing Ona’s lipstick smudged all over their faces, some pointing it out like Jana, others polite enough to just smirk.

Lucy and Ona couldn’t care less as they hurried themselves out of the party into the warm Barcelona night.

#lucy bronze #ona batlle #lucy bronze fanfic #lucy bronze ona batlle #ona batlle fanfic #woso fanfics #luna fanfic #woso community #woso imagine #luna

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theitgirlnetwork · 3 months

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Earn It

Ch. 8 : Put Me On A Feeling I've Never Had

Note: Yeahh my bad, I was not supposed to be gone so long. I am so thankful anyone still here, I still love this story, my life just started lifing again you guys. Thank you for the notes, reblogs, comments and messages. Thank you to those who created things in honor of my story. I love interacting with you guys and hearing thoughts (constructively, I'm sensitive). This one is pretty long and Art and Heaven centric, but the full gang will be around in the next chapter. Once again thank you for the love and I hope you're still rocking with me. I was a little rusty but we're getting back into it. Also...there's a nasty scene, MDNI. Grown folks...the song I feel like is playing in the background is Novacane by Frank Ocean. If you guys have any songs you feel like apply to any characters or relationships in my story, please share! Thanks, hope you enjoy! <3

Warnings: Cheating (fr this time y'all :(), explicit sexual content (MDNI!!!!!), small mention of disordered eating, and some strong language.

Translation: Tanti baci- Many kisses; la mia dolce piccolina - My sweet little girl

Taglist: @spookystitchery@anehkael@fkaams@butterflyybabe@sun2flower @holierthancunt @silkenthusiasts @wolflover384 @liziihorta @summerssover @jackierose902109

2019 (California)

“Let’s go.” Tashi mumbles, tying the thick hotel robe around herself as she shuffles across the floor, forcing her lip not to curl as her scar peeks out from the heavy, white fabric.

Art releases a deep breath, rolling from his stomach onto his back, determinedly keeping his eyes shut. His large hands blindly feel across the painfully cool, silk, sheets. Painfully empty, silk sheets. The folds slip along his fingers as he feels for a body that’s not there, finally giving up and forcing his eyes open to push off of the soft mattress. It’s not like it was offering him any comfort anyway.

He pulls on a pair of shorts over his underwear before walking sluggishly to the bathroom to pee and brush his teeth as he hears the hotel door clicking open, knowing none of them belong to the two people that he wanted to see the most.

Like a zombie he stalks his way into the suite, the room filled with people Tashi hired in an effort to keep her machine oiled and running. Nutritionist, masseuse, physical therapist, assistant coach. All bustling around, shaking up the protein shake he was allowed to have in lieu of the real, delicious food that he could hear the rest of them murmuring about ordering.

Art falls into his routine on autopilot, letting his personal trainer stretch his legs as he lies on the floor, stretching his back with the resistance band. All under the scrutiny of Tashi’s watchful eye out of her peripheral vision, focus flickering between Art and the television. He clenches his jaw and tries to drown out the sound of what feels like the 50 thousandth reporter questioning if today’s match was going to be the one that pulls him from his losing streak.

Maybe they should get off their asses and try to see him on his court. Maybe then they wouldn’t feel so comfortable talking shit behind a desk and a camera while he was working his fucking ass off.

“Art, relax your shoulders. You’re tense.”

That earns him another glance from Tashi, lips pursed as she pops a strawberry into her mouth.

The blond corrects his form, releasing the air constricting his chest, letting his eyes slip up toward the ceiling in resignation.

After finishing his warm up stretches Art downs the protein shake, feet dragging lazily along as he stands in the kitchen trying to psych himself up for the day.

Donaldson has taken the win in several tournaments, even making his mark at Wimbledon, several grand slams-

That’s right, Shane. The only thing the player is missing is that elusive U.S. Open. Now, he was a fan favorite prior to a painful injury last spring, but has made a full recovery. And yet, he seems to be in some sort of slump, hopefully with the support of the new team hired by his coach he’ll be able to take the victory today in his match against DeMario-

Tashi slowly brings her gaze upward, raising her eyebrows at Art as he looks at her, dropping the plastic remote back onto the coffee table after muting the tv. Shrugging, she brings her coffee to her lips and sits back against the cushions, crossing her legs and facing the tv again.

Art’s lips part as he works up the courage to say what he’d wanted to say for the last few months…hell maybe years.

Before the words can come out, the door beeps again. The only other person with a key card clicks the door open and once again, the words get caught in Art’s throat, it’s too big of a risk.

“Daddy!”

The little voice has Art’s heart clenching, blue eyes softening immediately as dark curls and big brown eyes come bouncing toward him, he’s bending to catch the girl attempting to fly into his arms, only to be stopped short.

“Hold on baby-” there goes the other voice, the one that makes his heart speed up instead of clench. Heaven lifts the squealing girl, grunting as she hoists her onto her hip, nuzzling her nose into her cheek. “Gotta let Daddy get ready for work right?”

“But I want to play with him.” his little girl whines and he could weep.

“Oh, you will, la mia dolce piccolina. But first, Daddy’s gotta get ready to play some tennis, you remember why?”

“Because he’s the best tennis player in the world.” She squeals.

Heaven’s lips roll inward as she glances at Art then Tashi and then back to Art, whispering a quiet, “Yep.” Before walking over to the couch, lowering the little girl to Tashi, relishing in her giggles as she dangles her over the back so she can reach Tashi’s face, “Go on, tanti baci.”

Tashi smiles, accepting the uncoordinated kisses the child scatters all over her face, mumbling a thank you against her cheek before sending a meaningful look to Heaven, nodding her head in Art’s direction and turning back to the TV in front of her and turning the volume back up.

Art rolls his eyes, cocking his head back as Heaven makes her way over to him, the little girl squirming in her arms to smack her hands on her father’s cheeks. “Oh, is it my turn?”

“Yes!” She grins, cheeks dimpling in a way that makes him melt.

“Yes?” He cheeses back, blowing a raspberry into her hand and taking in each messy kiss his daughter plants on his skin. “Thank you, princess.” When his daughter releases Heaven adjusts her on her hip, a soft smile on her own face as she watches the interaction. Art stares down at her, watching the smallest of movements she gives him, her eyes flicking up to his and just as quickly turning away. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” She says gently, finally giving him her eyes fully, pouty lips just begging for him to take them with his own.

Art brings his hand to her chin, tilting it up to guide her to meet him halfway, sighing in relief when her eyes flicker closed in anticipation of a kiss. He places his other hand over his daughter’s eyes with a breathy chuckle, inching closer to her lips only to be stopped short by the creek of someone jumping up from the couch.

“We need to get down to the courts.” Tashi calls, not looking up from her notebook, but clearly disapproving from the look he’d grown to know very well over these last few months.

Before Art can do anything, Heaven recoils, pulling back again, this time shuffling a couple steps away, ponytail bouncing behind her as she walks between Art and Tashi, not offering either of them so much as a glance. Her voice fades as she disappears towards the kids room in the suite, the last thing he hears is her murmuring into the little girl’s ear. “Should we check on sissy? Maybe we can all order some breakfast before we watch Daddy play.”

“Pancakes!”

“Pancakes? Pancakes are for big girls, are you a big girl who can walk on her own without running to get Daddy?”

“Yes, I am.”

“That’s good, mama, let’s get you some pancakes then.”

Art stares down the hallway, picking at the skin on his fingers as he tries to catch the rest of the conversation. Just a little bit more.

But he couldn’t have more, at least, not right now. He’d have to settle for this little bit he got. So, he scrubs his hand down his face, and grabs one of his shirts and follows Tashi out of the door, biting back a yawn.

“-and the pool.”

“And the pool? That seems like a lot of fun. I wonder when you’re going to practice your reading.” Heaven hums. She holds the door leading to the tennis courts, guiding the little girl through first before adjusting the two year old on her hip, following closely behind. “Don’t run, Aurora, walk to the seat please.”

Her heels clack as she walks along the gravel walkway, nuzzling her cheek against the toddler in her arms, offering a soft smile to the man who helps her up to the seats reserved for Team Donaldson. Slipping shades onto her face, Heaven ducks her head to hide away from the reporters, suddenly noticing her arrival and snapping some distant pictures before they decide to swarm her.

Tashi’s mother leans forward, kissing Heaven’s cheek, murmuring in her ear for her to pass her the baby to hold in the row behind her. Heaven crosses her legs, bouncing her knee nervously as she stares at the empty court. She bites her bottom lip until she tastes metal, and then takes to toying with the rings on her finger.

Today is a big deal.

The match is nothing serious. Just some young, new player who was probably absolutely pissing themselves because they’re going against the Art Donaldson. But Art’s been…struggling. She doesn’t know what’s causing it, this slump he’s in. They’ve been operating the same way for the past few years, but suddenly, it seems like Art’s checked out. It bothers her to watch him just go through the motions, like a little worker bee with no thoughts or ambition of his own. Heaven can’t stand how uninterested he seems in everything. Tashi seems to think it’s a confidence issue, at least that what she tells Heaven as she rolls her eyes and scrolls through his dropping stats. Art’s mother thinks that he needs to take another break.

Heaven doesn’t know what she thinks. What she does know, is that Art hasn’t been fucking winning. And when Art doesn’t win, none of them win.

“Excuse me, miss?”

Heaven jolts from her thoughts, turning to look up at a brunette lady, her hair pulled back into a probably once neat bun, mussed from rushing around, working the event. She adjusts her headset and looks down at Heaven with a smile. “Hi, yes?”

“Team Donaldson wants to see you in their waiting room.”

2007 (California: UCLA Campus)

Art claps as loud as he can as Heaven and the rest of the cast takes their bow. He watches her curtsy deeply with a pretty smile on her face, her chest rising and falling with effort. As she allows the male lead to take her hand and guide her off the stage, her gaze falls to Art, and she fixes him a strange look.

He knows he probably looks stupid. Art can almost feel how goofy the smile on his face is, but he can’t help it. 2 hours and 15 minutes. That’s how long he got to watch her. She came on and off of the stage but his eyes followed her the whole time. It felt like she was only on stage for 3 minutes. Time suspends while Heaven dances. Art watched her body contort, and her muscles stretch as she moved across the stage. He felt fucking privileged. Like he didn’t deserve that experience. He doesn’t know how Patrick and Tashi could pass up the opportunity to see her like this. The glow on her face as she tells a story with her form.

Art is startled by a soft nudge to his side, turning to see Heaven’s stepfather giving him a knowing grin. The blond coughs, finally and fully shaking the trance he’d been in and giving the older man his attention. “She’s…she’s amazing.”

“Believe me, I know, my daughter is the brightest star.” Luca pats Art roughly on the arm, his strong hand a stark contrast from his kind smile. “It seems like you know that too.”

Art feels his face heat, eyes briefly darting back toward the stage. “Yeah, I do.”

“And your friend, Patrick, does he know?”

If this was any other situation he’d cover for his best friend. Art would tell the older man that something happened. Make up some excuse, some lie as to why Patrick wasn’t here to support his girlfriend. But he didn’t have it in him.

Why should he? Why should he talk his way out of something good? If Patrick actually knew what he had he’d be here. Tashi he can excuse, she’s recovering. But even then, Art can’t think of anything on God’s green earth right now that would have been able to keep him from watching her like this. Or even just the chance to spend time with her.

"Heaven deserves...everything."

A few minutes pass before Heaven comes barrelling out, leaping into her stepfather’s arms like a little girl, her smile wide as she cuts their brief conversation about the other dancers Art missed while he was in his Heaven induced daze. The elder man grunts as he catches her, showering her in praise and presenting her with the Chanel gift bag before slipping into the conversation that her mother was unable to make it.

Art enjoyed the warmth of the moment. He basks in the joy on her face, and the hum of jealousy at the fact that he’s not the one causing it is manageable, remaining at a low thrum in his chest. When she finally turns to address him, he straightens, determined not to sound like a fanboy meeting his celebrity crush.

“Well?” Heaven cheeses up at him, clearly waiting for her ego to be stroked. She rocks on her feet, her hands clasped together behind her back. She’d loosened her hair out of the intricate style she’d performed with, but still stood before him in her final costume, looking like a princess who walked straight from a fairytale.

“Well…I’m gonna empty my bank account to get tickets for every other night, so-”

“Then I’ll expect to see you there. I’ll put on a good show” She says softly, pushing onto her toes and wrapping her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. Heaven brings her lips to Art’s ear. “Thank you for coming.”

“Um,” Art’s voice cracks as he feels her press against him, not knowing how to embrace her in a way that wouldn’t give away the fact that she literally made him fall in love with her all over again moments before. He settles for rubbing her back, holding her a beat longer than what’s appropriate. He holds himself back from tightening his arms around her when she does pull away, opting to present her with the flowers he’d bought her instead. “I got you these. I saw they gave you some when you were taking your bow but…these ones are from me.”

Heaven bites her bottom lip glancing behind him and then back into his eyes. “Thank you, Art.”

“Yeah. You were beautiful, Hev.”

Luca’s eyes narrow as he looks between his stepdaughter and the young man he’d watched sitting on the edge of the fabric theater seat the entirety of the performance. He’d expected to be joined by Heaven’s boyfriend tonight. He’d heard from Tashi that she still was not feeling well and his wife made it abundantly clear that until Heaven was part of a company that she deemed professional, she would not be making the effort to attend a performance.

So when a young man came in looking like he was about to win the lottery, eyes glued to the stage before the performance even began, stars in his eyes and hands gripping the side of the seat, he thought this was him. The older man was relieved, really. He’d love for Heaven to be his baby forever. He’d never take for granted the day that he was taking his niece to the ballet to see Coppélia. She was briefly in town and he’d taken the night off work to take her out while his sister and brother-in-law got a break. He’d gotten the nicest seats in the house to show his niece a good time.

What Luca hadn’t expected was for a beautiful woman to tap him on the shoulder, her adorable little girl dressed like the doll in the ballet peeking out from behind her leg. The woman had all but demanded that he and his niece trade places with her and her daughter, offering to pay him after pointing out that his niece was asleep and not paying attention anyway.

He didn’t mind giving up the seat, in exchange for the beautiful woman’s number, and the bright smile on the little girl’s face. She was missing her front two teeth and was barely taller than her mother’s knee, but he watched them. He saw the little girl stare up at the dancers with wonder, sitting with her back straight, imitating their arm movements as the ballet went on. He watched her mother smile down at her, pointing out things the little girl might miss. It wasn’t long before he fell in love with the woman and her daughter, and soon, they were a family.

But now, the little girl who used to ask her stepdaddy to twirl and lift her like the big girls he took her to see was on stage where she belonged. And there was a boy. A man. Here, mesmerized by her. He watched the love in the boy’s eyes in real time.

The only problem was that he wasn’t him. He wasn’t the boy who was supposed to be here, on the edge of his seat, watching his little Stellina shine. No, he was a friend.

Maybe it wasn’t fair to be rooting for the boy in front of him when he hadn’t met the boyfriend. Maybe he owed him a chance to prove himself too. But one thing he and Beatrice had instilled in Heaven, trait that she and her Tashi share, is knowing you have to earn the things you want. Tonight is the first big night of many for Heaven. But, it was the first. She deserved support. As long as Luca was alive she would have it, but he’s not naive. He knows he won’t be enough anymore. And it all boils down to one thing. Art was here. Patrick was not.

So, if he invited Art to dinner, it was because he’d earned a seat.

“I could have been a pro, that’s all I’m saying.”

Utensils clang over the music and chatter of the restaurant Heaven and her dad had guided him to. Apparently, they went to it every time Mr. Whitlock visited Heaven at school. It’s an American Steakhouse and Brewery. Fancy enough that he couldn’t come in sweats, which Patrick would have hated. But not so fancy that they had to be all stiff and uncomfortable like at the restaurants his dad normally drags him to.

“Papino, please-” Heaven whines, dramatically dropping her head into her hands.

“I’m not talking to you, I’m talking to Art.” The older man waves his hand, dismissing his daughter playfully. Leaning in conspiratorially to Art. “My daughter is closed minded, but she is not the only athlete in our family. If my football career would have taken off-”

“You see!” She points, sitting up pointing at her father. “Football” she mocks with a thick italian accent. “Ask him where he was born, Art.”

“It’s not about the birth place!”

The blond chuckles at the exchange, enjoying the banter between father and daughter. He wishes he and his dad had this. Jokes. Familiarity. Heaven softens around him. He remembers what she looked like around her mom. Tense. Nervous. Insecure. And around everyone else, it was like she held herself apart. She stays where its safe, next to Tashi, in their own world, keeping everyone else out. Just the two of them plotting their world domination together. Art often found himself feeling jealous, like he was on the outside begging to be invited in. But right now she’s open. Showing him things he;d never gotten to see from her before. “Where are you from Mr. Whitlock.”

“Luca.” The older man corrects, taking a sip of his water. “And italy-”

Art feels a foot brush his leg under the table and whips his head to look at Heaven, willing his face not to turn pink and for his dick not to get hard as her lips mouth to him ‘New York’.

“You see this? Arthur, when you have daughters, don’t spoil them, they’ll turn into brats, like my Heaven.”

“A brat? I’m not a spoiled brat. Art, am I spoiled?” she asks, leaning against his arm, fixing her big brown eyes at him.

Art could fucking melt.

“Don’t bat your eyelashes at him and confuse the boy, here” Luca reaches over and musses his daughter’s hair, earning a laugh and a whine that he’d pay if he messed it up. “Answer now.”

“Hev…”

“Art, no.” She pouts.

“I’m not gonna lie to your dad, you’re a princess, Hev, it’s just what you are. Pretty girls like you tend to get what they want.” He jokes, pinching her cheek. Heaven swats his hand away and crosses her arms, mumbling about them ganging up on her.

“Sorry,” A voice calls from beside the table. It’s their waitress, carrying the desserts they’d ordered. “I didn’t want to interrupt, your chocolate mousse, sir.” The waitress places Luca’s plate down in front of him and he naturally sighs as his daughter’s eyes automatically shift away from it to her glorified fruit cup. He wishes she’d let herself indulge, but he knows from experience. Heaven will not bend. Her discipline will not break. Even as she eyes Art’s strawberry cheesecake, a snack that happens to be her favorite.

The older man doesn’t know what he’s expecting but it’s certainly not what he sees. He watches the blond young man push the plate toward Heaven, and as he suspects, she pushes it back, the glass is pushed back and forth until the boy shrugs, placing his hands in his lap, as if declaring that if she didn’t have any, he wouldn’t either. Another thing his daughter hates. Waste.

Heaven rolls her eyes, scooping a small piece of the creamy dessert onto her spoon and taking it into her mouth, causing the boy to grin with victory. Victory that is short lived and replaced with flushed embarrassment when she grabs his chin, taking a much larger scoop and pushing it into his mouth with the same spoon. Luca can’t help but join his daughter in laughing as the boy sputters trying to swallow the hunk she fed him. But he also can’t help but notice her bringing his water to his lips, rubbing his back and thanking him for a piece of his cake. The cake that he didn’t touch again, the grimace he’s hiding clearly revealing that he doesn’t like strawberry cheesecake and that his decision may not have been a coincidence after all.

As they close out their meal, he thinks back on what he witnessed that night. Heaven’s beautiful dancing had definitely been the highlight. But as his daughter and the boy who had stars in his eyes as he looked at her spoke about everything and nothing he had a feeling that he was witnessing something even more rare.

And this would not be the last time he saw Art Donaldson.

“He likes you.” Heaven singsongs, strolling into the doorway as Art holds it open, following closely behind her. “My dad.”

“Thank God, I was worried about that.” Art breathes, letting her lead him to her dorm room door.

When she reaches her unit Heaven turns, leaning against the door and looking up at the blond man in front of her. “Why? Pressure’s not on you, it’s not like you’re my boyfriend.” Art just raises his eyebrows, nodding his head. “Too soon?”

“Uh, yeah,” he breathes, dropping his head slightly. “Pretty sure it’ll always be too soon.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” He forces himself to ask her the question burning in his mind, looking at the floor. “Have you…have you heard from him?”

“No. But, I’m pretty sure I’m not the girlfriend he’s worried about losing.” She shrugs.

“He’s just…if…Patrick’s a fucking idiot, alright?” Art needs her to understand it’s not her. She’s not the problem. He would do anything for her to get the only issue is that Patrick isn’t right for her. He can’t handle her looking up at him with sad eyes like those. Her gorgeous rose petal lips should only ever be spread into a smile. Leaning his forehead to hers, Art lets his eyes slip closed in defeat. “I’m sorry. I’m gonna be a really shitty friend right now, so if you really don’t want to hear it, you should go in your dorm and I’ll drive back to school and kick myself for fucking up with you again.”

“Art, you promised-”

“You wouldn’t have to wonder if you were with me. I meant what I said. I’d be at every show, every rehearsal, fucking, I’ll sit in a room and watch you twirl for fun if you want me to. I want to make you happy.”

“Art, what do you want me to do?” she whines, literally stamping her foot on the carpet, still not moving, sharing his air.

“Let me show you how good it could be.”

“You want to sleep with me-”

“I’m in love with you.” he sighs. “I’d do anything. Let me show you.”

“You should stop saying that.” Heaven says wearily, running her hand through blond curls. “I’m starting to believe you.”

He sighs again, leaning into her hand and scanning her features intently, waiting and watching for a sign that this is going in his favor. He just wants to be with her. Take care of her. He’d be so good at it. She just has to let him try.

And then a miracle happens.

Art’s brain blows a fuse as he feels Heaven’s lips against his. It feels like it’s been so long since he’s tasted her. He wills himself to take it slow, but as her lips part for him he finds himself groaning and wrapping his arms around the backs of her thighs, hoisting her up against the door. Being with Heaven feels like being an addict getting a fix of their favorite drug. It’s euphoric. A high he can chase with all his might but the only thing that got him to true ecstasy what having her.

He’s almost scared of what making love with her would do to his psyche.

Patrick would call him a pussy for saying it that way. But that’s the only thing that he could conceive of calling what he was about to do. Or, the only thing he could say that would be applicable and not sacreligious.

Heaven gasps as the cool air of her room hits her as she grips Art’s shoulders to keep her balance as he carries her in. The sound of her keys hitting the floor is drowned out by her attempts at breathing steadily and what could only be described as whimpers coming from Art as he bites and sucks at her skin. She hadn’t expected him to be the type to like to leave marks. But here the usually gentle man was, manhandling her onto her champagne, silk bed set, head buried in her neck like a fucking vampire, large hands switching between shoving up her shirt and tugging down her pants.

She scrambles to pull at his shirt, squeaking out the word, “Off.” as his lips encase one of her nipples.

He listens immediately, reaching one hand back and whipping his own shirt off before kissing a wet trail down her body, kissing her hip bone, tucking a finger under her underwear. Art pauses then, waiting for confirmation that he could continue. He looks like a wounded puppy when Heaven sits up, legs effectively closing to him.

The somber look is immediately traded for one of shock and then pleasure when she guides him to sit in the bed, and climbs into his lap, her hand unzipping his shorts and pushing into his boxers. “Fuck, Heaven-”

“I figure, I should thank you. For showing up for me today,” she whispers into his ears, relishing in the noises he makes as one of his hands grips the blanket below them and the other buries into her hair. “and any other day since I met you. I do appreciate you, Art. You matter to me.”

Art’s desperate, lifting his hips each time her hand moves up, leaning into her as she whispers in her ear. “I…fuck it feels so good.”

“Yeah? Do I make you feel good? Is that why you wanna be with me so bad, handsome?” she hums, squeezing the tip and trying not to react to his tightened grip when she does.

“I wanna be with you because I…fucking oh fuck, I fucking love you.” he breathes, chest rising and falling, his abs flexing with effort. “Fuck, let me see your face.”

“But I wanna keep talking to you.” Heaven says, letting her lips brush the skin of his ear. “You’re attracted to me, Arthur. You want to fuck me. That’s all. S’okay.”

Art’s eyes squeeze closed and he pulls her even closer to him. “No, I love you. Even if I can’t fuck you.”

“Really?” She twists her wrist and changes the pressure in her grip.

“Unh, fuck, no I love you, but I need to fuck you.” He whines.

Art drags his hand from the back of her neck to cup her jaw, guiding Heaven to his lips. He kisses her deeply. She can’t describe it. But she feels it in her toes. She can feel the intensity. This wasn’t what she was used to. This kiss felt like something she’d never experienced before. It felt like begging. Like he was pleading with her to understand. He needed her to get what he means, what he feels. When he says anything he means anything. When he says he loves her he means it.

And for the first time, even in her own mind, Heaven acknowledged that she wanted him to know she felt the same way.

So when he pulls away to give her air, she chases his lips, capturing them again and getting another taste of the same intensity he’d given her before. “I really tried, you know. To stay away from you.”

“Don’t stay away from me, I need you.” He breathes against her lips, his own dragging along them as they refuse to take any more space from each other. Art nudges her nose with his softly, dropping his hands to her waist. “Heaven, please.”

“What do you want me to do, Art?” Heaven asks, pulling him from his pants. Her eyes locked on him. He’s blurry in her swimming vision, but she can see him build the courage to tell her what he needs from her, taking a deep breath.

“Tell me you love me too.” he says against her lips, holding her down against him, rocking her hips to set a pace with his hands. “Tell me, baby. Please.”

“I love you.”

“Again.”

“I fuck I love you.”

“I love you. Again.” he groans, guiding her a little faster, sliding one hand down and tugging at her underwear again. This time she pushes up onto her knees, separated by his thighs, she helps him get the fabric off of her body as his gaze follows her upward, leaning his head back.

“Arthur.” she says sternly, cupping his cheeks with her hands, “I mean it.”

Art and Heaven share a gasp as she sinks down on him, his strong, calloused hands grip soft, muscled thighs as they share two pecks before pushing their foreheads together, both peering down to where they’re joined together, the only sounds in the room are the slow creaking of the bed and the pants passed between the pair.

Heaven had never felt so close to someone before. She’d never felt this good. All she could think about was Art. Art’s hands on her, squeezing her, pushing her hair out of her face, pressing his thumb into her cheek, encouraging her to open her eyes whenever they slip closed as she rises and falls above him.

Art’s eyes, that drink her completely. The perfect mix of blue and brown, glossy and locked on her. He always demands her eyes. He’s made it clear he loves when she looks at him, but the way Art looks at her…it’s like he worships her. It’s like he’s worried if he blinks she’d be gone. He makes her feel the most beautiful she ever has.

He’s beautiful. It distracts Heaven to look at him, beneath her, yet somehow demonstrating his strength. Holding her up, guiding her movements with his strong arms, veins running up the muscles that hold her. All while offering her the prettiest slurred moans.

“Fuck, Heaven, you feel so good.”

“So good, squeezin’ me, you need me baby?”

“He didn’t fuck you like he loved you, no one can. Only me, gorgeous. No one can love you like I can.”

“S’like I’m meant to be inside you.”

As Art’s thrusts grow harsher and deeper, they keep their slow pace. Heaven buries her head in his neck, letting him rock her as she cries into his skin. She feels the pressure building in her lower abdomen.

Art feels her tighten around him and suddenly he’s lucid. The squeeze pulls a cry from him before he’s turning his head to be in her ear. “You gonna cum, sweetheart?”

“Yeah” Heaven whimpers.

“Yeah? Fuck…I’m so glad, baby. Hold on okay?” He lifts her then, earning a squeal from Heaven as he rolls them so he’s above her, just barely hovering as he brackets her with his arms. Art leans down, placing his weight on her before pushing into her again, staring down at her face as she bites her lip, trying to silence her noises. “Please don’t. I fucking dream of those sounds, I wanna hear them. I earned them, I want to hear you.”

“Fuck, Art-”

“Fuck yes, baby, say my name.” He groans, dropping his head to her chest, pressing open mouthed kisses and littering hickeys along her breasts. “”Cum for me.” He pants against her damp skin.

Art has never heard anything more beautiful. He’d never felt anything fucking like it. In the few years he’s spent on this earth, he’d never experienced anything like feeling Heaven Whitlock cum around him. He almost feels sorry for the past version of himself that hadn’t been inside of her yet. If he had known…maybe it was best he didn’t know. He fell in love with her before any of this. Maybe that’s why it felt so good. Maybe it’s just Heaven. Maybe her parents knew what the fuck they were doing when they named her.

He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to go back to being a person after this. How is he supposed to want to do anything else? He feels like a fucking junkie, worried about when he’d get his next fix. He needs to treat every kiss like it could be his last. Every touch. Every moan. Every thrust. He wants to live here. With her. In her.

It’s not even over. Art’s still fucking her right now and he’s praying to God that she won’t leave again. She can’t take this from him. She can’t take herself away from him. Her pretty face, crying out for him. Looking at him. Loving him. That’s right baby, eyes on me.

“You’re so fucking pretty, baby.” He whines, kissing her deeply as he feels her wrap her legs around him, pulling her closer. “Fuck…I’m-” Art starts to panick, squeezing his eyes shut. It’s almost over. Then she’ll go. She’ll make him go. He wants to be close. Together. He needs more. More time. Please-

“It’s okay, I…feel- I want you to cum, Art.” She presses the sweetest kiss to his nose, wiping dampness from underneath his eyes that he didn’t even realize was there. “I love you.”

It’s the most innocent thing in the world. A little peck on his nose.

He’s never cum so hard in his life.

“I fucking love you.”

He basically fucking blacked out. She came again…with him. Art could die now, and he’d be fine. Somewhere in his mind he feels like what they just did altered his life. He knew he wanted Heaven. He knew that when he first saw her. He knew he loved Heaven, he found that out when he saw her dance. But this intensity he feels…he’d do anything for her. Anything she asked. Anything to make her smile. If she’d just stay.

And despite knowing her for only a couple of months, almost a year now, he knows exactly what she’s about to do. They’ve played this game before.

“So, um,” She clears her throat, rolling out from under him as he releases her, laying on his side and staring as she slips off of the silk sheets and reaches in her drawer, pulling out a white nightgown. Heaven wraps her arms around herself. Closing off. Covering up. “I’m…I’m on birth control so you don’t have to worry that you…”

“Came inside of you?” Art asks, a soft smile on his lips.

Heaven straightens, eyes narrowing. “Yes. That. And now I have to go pee.” She turns to leave for the bathroom, only to feel a large hand encase her wrist, tugging her back toward the bed.

“Are you really going to pee?”

“Yes, where else would I go?”

He tilts his head, still holding onto her, running his thumb over the back of her hand before bringing it to his lips and kissing it. “You have a tendency to run-”

“I don’t run.”

“Hev, baby, you run. When we get close. We were really close just now.”

Heaven sighs, rolling her eyes before climbing back onto the bed, swinging her leg over Art to straddle him again, this time pulling the fabric of the blanket between them. She intertwines their hands that are not already clasped together, and Art lifts his knees for her to rest her back on. “You scare me.”

The blond man stares up at his lover with a confused look. As she sits perched prettily on his lap he can see she’s being earnest. The anxiousness on her face makes his heart hurt. All he could think is that he’d rather hurt himself than hurt her. She has nothing to fear. But he lies quietly. Letting her playfully pin his hands down with her own, leaning down to his face.

“I don’t get what you’re doing here.”

His brows furrow. “I’m earning you. Like you said.”

“That game is way over-” Heaven giggles, rolling her eyes. “What happens if you get me and you figure out I’m not worth it.

“That’s not possible. We both know that, Hev. You’re everything. You’re perfect.”

She shakes her head at that, nuzzling his nose again. “Fucking tennis players, man. Toxic ass bunch.” Heaven huffs at herself, shaking her head. “Just can’t leave ‘em alone. You know, Tashi gave me her blessing to hook up with you? Told me to get you out of my system already.”

Oh.

“Oh.” He steels himself, letting her weight above him be his anchor. He commits this feeling to memory. Just in case she’s about to say this was a fluke. In case this really didn’t mean what it meant to him to her. “Did it work?”

“I just told you I loved you and let you nut in me Arthur.” Heaven deadpans.

“I know it was awesome.” He smiles goofily, lifting their joint hands and nudging her dimple with his knuckle.

“Oh, was it awesome?” she mocks, leaning down and biting his cheek lightly, giggling as he finally stops indulging her and rolls her to lay in front of him, wrapping his arm around her waist. “I actually do need to pee.”

“You sure?” he mumbles against her cheek.

“U-T-I.” she hums, patting his head before pushing up, his arms allow her to move this time. Heaven smiles flirtily at him before slipping out of the door.

Art lies back on her bed and smiles to himself. She’s right. She did say she loved him. He’s never felt more alive than he does right now. Everything about this felt so right and real. Things were how they should be. Art with Heaven. Heaven with Art.

It was like he was high. Nothing could take it away from him. This moment was perfect. They were in love, and happy and nothing would pierce this bubble they’d created.

Except that damn buzzing.

Art tells himself he thought it could be his or her phone.

They’re both discarded on the floor. It could be anything. An emergency. With her parents. His. Tashi. Anything.

He tells himself he didn’t even consider it could be Patrick texting her. And when his jaw clenches, and he runs his hands through his own hair hastily before opening the texts, he tells himself that he saw his best friend’s name and wanted to make sure he was okay. And that he showed great restraint when he chose to delete the message he sent Heaven, claiming to miss her and expressing the need to talk. He could’ve thrown the fucking thing against the wall. He could’ve sent the motherfucker a picture of himself in her bed. Instead he protected her feelings.

And sure. He felt guilty. There was definitely a weight on his chest as he placed the phone perfectly back on the floor where it was and climbed back on the bed.

But Art can admit, it definitely got lighter when Heaven came tiptoeing back into the room, smiling at him, for him, lifting his arm so she could lay with her back to his chest. Twisting her body to kiss him and promising to talk to Tashi.

And it for fucking sure went away when she bid him goodnight. “Goodnight…I love you.”

It’s time he and Patrick take some space anyway.

“I love you too.”

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softxsuki · 5 months

Note

Hiii, i just joined the club and everything here is amazing!!! I absolutely love how you write and i wanted to make a request if it's ok, it's half urgent half not...let me explain: these last days have been very stressful for me and i have been trying to find a comfort mha fanfic for a simular situation as mine, i feel like a i need attention but now just soft one like a worried kind one and not from a partner but from more like a fatherlike figure i need to feel secure and cared for to relax before i breakdown :")...idk if you take requests with characters other than bakugou etc but i really wanted to request this fan fic:

Reader is part of class 1A and she's been having trouble at home and training hard plus insomnia, in other words she's not feeling too great but she always takes part i class, trains and never skips anything. Mr Aizawa has noticed that the last few days reader seemed out of it so he decides to have a talk with her after class but reader in that specific day has been feeling much worse than the other past days of exhaustion and while Mr Aizawa is expressing his concerns and trying to get her to talk to him she has a stress induced seizure and then passes out from then all carrying reader for urgent check up and the comfort. :))

I would be so happy if you took this request...thank you so much for all your hard work!!

Aizawa Comforts Reader Who Has A Stress-Induced Seizure

Warnings: Mentions of seizures, stress, insomnia, alluding to at-home troubles

Note: Hey, welcome to my blog it's great to have you! I don't write for Aizawa anymore because I'm just really bad at writing for him as you'll see NBFHKEAFJ. But I wanted to make this for you since it's a topic I haven't been asked for yet, but moving forward for anyone reading this, I do not write for Aizawa so please don't send any requests for him :3. I have a full list of characters that I do write for on my navigation page if anyone wants to check that out. But hopefully this does it's job for you! All my urgent requests are written in headcanon format so I hope that's okay! I hope the stresses in your life ease up so you can get the rest you need ! <3

You could feel your head pounding as Aizawa asked you to stay for a few moments after class, a worried expression on his usual stoic face

It had been a tough week for you, with your usual troubles at home and the countless nights you’ve had without sleep

Yet instead of taking a break, you pushed yourself even harder, training every day and never missing a class

It got to the point where Aizawa could see how out of it you were, hence why he pulled you aside

You could hardly focus on the words he was saying, but by the look on his face it seemed like it was serious

Tingles shot up your body as the pounding in your head grew more severe, and before you knew it, your body was convulsing

Alarmed, Aizawa supports your head, waiting for your violent shakes to cease from the little knowledge he held about seizures fill his mind, but once you go still, you're passed out from your lack of sleep and fatigue that had filled your body these past few days

He lifts you up and brings you to Recovery Girl who watches over you until you finally wake up later in the day when classes are over

Upon opening your eyes, you see Aizawa asleep in a seat beside the bed in the room

“Aizawa Sensei,” you say softly, making the older man jolt at the sudden noise, his eyes immediately on you as he sits up

“How are you feeling?” He asks with a sigh, rubbing his tired eyes

It was the most rest you’d gotten the whole week so of course you felt a lot better, but you could see the slight furrow in Aizawa’s brows as you speak, letting him in on your rough week and how you’ve been feeling in general

“L/N…you’re a great student and I know you want to give it your best, I see the effort you’re putting in, but you can’t do it at the expense of your health. Take the next few days off recuperating at the dorms. I’ll have Uraraka or Yaoyorozu bring you any work you miss. Don’t bring yourself to your breaking point like this again”

He’s stern, and stoic as usual, but you can hear the tinge of concern in his tone, you’re his student so of course he’d be worried about you just suddenly collapsing and having a seizure like that

You were ready to protest–how could you go a full week without training? You’d fall behind your classes. Seeing your inner turmoil, Aizawa speaks again

“You’re free to train after class hours for no longer than an hour each day, I’ll have one of your classmates observe you…Just know your teachers are here for a reason, even if you feel like you can’t come to me, every teachers here at UA has an obligation to be there for their students, so reach out if you need it. I’ll be stopping by the dorms to check in on everyone more frequently from not on, so please rest”

You nod your head in agreement, with Aizawa’s support perhaps you could work your way through your troubles and stresses moving forward in a better way

You were a future hero, if you couldn’t properly take care of yourself, how could you save anyone else?

With a small smile, Aizawa pats your head, standing up from his seat as he nudges his head towards the door

“Then let’s get you back to the dorms, Recovery Girl said you were set to head back once you woke up”

And with that, Aizawa leads you back to the dorms where everyone is informed of your situation (briefly) to make sure you actually do rest instead of overworking yourself again for the next few days and even moving forward in general

Not only do you have your teachers support, but even the support of your classmates

Posted: 4/15/2024

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta #mha x y/n #mha x you #mha x female reader #bnha x fem!reader #bnha x you #bnha x y/n #aizawa x you #aizawa x y/n #mha headcanons #mha comfort #bnha headcannons #bnha comfort #aizawa headcanons #aizawa comfort

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mysterious-moonstruck-musings · 6 months

Text

Closed Position: Meet the Characters

Closed Position Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist

With the first chapter of the Dancing with the Stars fic, Closed Position, finally posting next week, I thought it might be fun to get to know Dieter and Kat a little bit more. I mostly did this for myself to try and get the Destiny & Deliverance version of Dieter out of my head. I also wanted to figure out Katarina a little more…because again, I still have Talia on the brain. 🤦🏻‍♀️

So, given that, you guys get some fun details on these two that will hopefully help me switch gears and give them a little more depth.

About Dieter Bravo in Closed Position

At the beginning of this fic, Dieter is eight months post rehab. This is the first time he has successfully kept clean for any meaningful length of time, and he is determined to stick with it. His acting career hasn't been going well because no one wants to work with him. He's looking to change his image and prove that he is a different man to get his life back on track. However, that process is proving harder than he would have thought as no one is taking his recovery seriously. As a last-ditch effort to save Dieter's career, his agent books him on Dancing with the Stars.

In an effort to hold on to his sobriety, Dieter has cut pretty much everyone out of his life that he considered to be an enabler or a bad influence. He spends a lot of his time alone and fills it with hobbies - painting, reading, music, taking care of his plants and the stubborn stray cat that won't leave his beach house.

Dieter has also been making an effort to present himself as less of a slob. When he leaves the house these days, he tries to look presentable and even dresses appropriately for work meetings. He slowly starts to embrace fashion and wants to look his best. He has held onto his longer curly locks, but instead of leaving them in an unruly mess, he does try to style them so that he looks more put together. As he gains more confidence, he embraces this version of himself and doesn't think twice about the old worn clothes he used to live in... except for his green robe. He still wears it around the house.

Even though Dieter keeps busy, he's lonely. He feels misunderstood and wishes people would give him a chance to prove himself. Ultimately, his dance partner gives him that opportunity. Sure, he finds her attractive, but it goes deeper than that. She gives him true friendship and the non-sexual intimacy that he has starved himself of most of his life.

About Katarina Stamos in Closed Position

Katriana Stamos has been involved with ballroom dance since she was very young. She has spent the last 13 years on Dancing with the Stars, where she often does not make it very far into the competition. Mainly due the partners she is paired with because they are just not physically able to keep up. She has suspicions that there are other nefarious reasons for it too. Those suspicions are confirmed during her last season on the show when she is paired with Dieter Bravo.

Kat isn't old by any means, but she is past the typical age of retirement for a ballroom dancer at 39. While dancing appears to be all about the glitz and glamor, behind the scenes its full of struggle and pain. Kat's body is wearing down and aches constantly due to worsening rheumatoid arthritis in her feet, knees, and hips. She's often too tired and achy after rehearsal to do things like clean her modest size house or go out with her castmates. She's a little messy and at times struggles to keep it together. However, she isn't going to let these issues get her down during her last season, not when she has finally been paired with someone that has potential to make it to finals.

This is an amazing opportunity for Kat, financially speaking. One would assume that being a cast member on Dancing with the Stars would be a good payout. It is, for those who make it further into the competition. Since Kat hasn't been lucky enough to do that, things can get tight with finances. Especially since she is trying to save up to open her own dance studio once she does finally retire from professional dancing. If she can make it to the end this time, her funding problems will be solved.

The last notable thing about Kat...she is dating another dancer on the show named Alec. They've been together for six years. Alec is kind of a jerk for many reasons that we will see play out through the course of the story. He becomes almost unbearable to deal with when Dieter comes into the mix even though Alec is the one that has a terrible history when it comes to fidelity.

There are some other tidbits we find out about Kat early on that explains why she is so accepting of Dieter and willing to give him a chance. What she doesn't expect are the feelings that come with their budding friendship.

How are you guys feeling about these new characters and this different version of Dieter? Excited yet?

I have done a TON of research around the behind-the-scenes workings of the show. I plan to share some of that with you as we go along. It has actually helped form a lot of the plot. While I don't claim 100% accuracy on it, I do plan to try and incorporate details as accurately as I can from what information is public.

With all that said, we finally get to really meet these two next week. I can't wait to finally share them with you!

💜Mysty

Series Summary: Dieter Bravo, now sober, was looking to change his bad boy image after hitting rock bottom. His team hoped that having him join the nationally televised family friendly dance competition would be a good first step, if they can keep him out of trouble.

Katarina Stamos expected her last season as a professional dancer on Dancing with the Stars to go the same as it had for the past thirteen seasons. That all changed when she was partnered with the infamous Dieter Bravo.

Dieter and Katarina are reluctantly thrown into their partnership and must learn to work together to succeed in the competition. In the process they form a deeper connection beyond the dance floor that neither anticipated.

👉 Warnings: Themes dealing with intimate partner violence, alcohol abuse, and drug abuse. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Dieter Bravo comes with his own warnings.

CP Taglist: @secretelephanttattoo @titlee78 @maggiemayhemnj @legendary-pink-dot @linzels-blog @morallyinept @survivingandenduring @wannab-urs @harriedandharassed @hisandsnakes @misstokyo7love @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @sin-djarin @cakipy-blog @missladym1981 @guelyury @weho2kcmo @alokaerza @girlofchaos @trulybetty @rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @madnessofadaydreamer @darkheartgatita @jazzloveslatte @timpletance @musings-of-a-rose @samiamproductions @myloveistoolittle @for-a-longlongtime @copperhalfcent @auteurdelabre @drewharrisonwriter

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo fic #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #closed position series #closed position extra

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blingblong55 · 1 year

Text

Are you there? -141

part 1 is here

This is based on a request:

Reader goes missing on a mission

F!Reader, angst

R/L/N, R/N

Status: MIA

Callsign- Grim

Age: 26

Next of kin: N/A

It's been 8 weeks since you have been missing. Laswell has considered you MIA, this is after the last part of your plan hadn't worked. You were supposed to give her and only her a signal that you were still alive, this signal was suppose to occur 2 days after you had disappeared, but nothing. Now she has begun to worry, she understood why you had taken the sacrifice, but a part of her was now regretting it. Maybe if she had told Price of the risks, you'd still be around. There were so many what if's surrounding her everyday. Many emails from the team that she hadn't responded to. She knew 141 could find you, but their emotions could get the best of them and she couldn't lose another person, not under her watch.

After Price knew the injury Gaz sustained was stable and he would have a fast recovery, he and the others started to secretly plan on going back to where they last saw you. They decided to not call for backup, just so Laswell wouldn't know about this 'mission' of theirs.

Its currently T-30 before the men head out to the helipad and wait for a good old friend of them, Nikolai, he'd be the only person to know what they'd be doing, no one else. Price was a man of his word, that was for sure, so when the only person he'd let into his life as a daughter and his closest buddy was missing, he made a promise to bring you back home. Alive or dead.

When the team had marked you missing for a full week, Price walked back to his office, asking for no one to bother him. It's said that those that passed by his office heard him cry and throw things around the room. But not one person dared to check on him, not because they didn't care about him, but because they all understood who you are to him. After he had calmed down his range, he sat down, a cigar in one hand as the other caressed a portrait that had you in it.

It was you as the rookie of the team, your first week with the men. You at the time didn't know, but Price was already watching over you like a father figure. Soap had started to tell others how he had replaced Gaz with his newest best mate. Gaz, of course was upset, but once he and you made so many jokes and cried from laughing so hard, he knew why Soap was calling you his best mate, and secretly you were too Gaz's mate, a his little sister.

Ghost, although usually perceived cold, had gotten to used to Soap's bullshit, that when you came around, he grew fond of you rather quickly. He was the one that kept a picture of you, in a shit version of his mask, on his vest's pocket. No one else but you two had a matching tattoo. Which by the way was his way of knowing you two, secretly, considered the other family, something he hadn't fully enjoyed before 141.

----

The men were all now in the helicopter, making their way to hopefully you. The way there for them was rather longer than usual, maybe it was because their minds were running everywhere, or maybe they felt so anxious and scared for what they could face, which would be new to them, since in the past they had been so ready for it all.

Once they touched down, they quickly ran to the entrance of the building. After making sure no one was near or at least innocent civilians, they threw smoke grenades into the building and rushed inside.

Guns in hand as they cleared the first floor. Gaz and Soap heading to the floors below while Price and Ghost made it to the top floors. Every door they kicked, they called out for you, but after much search, they didn't find you. In the midst of finding you, they, for a second loose Gaz, only to find him sitting where he last saw you. Soap slowly approached him, Gaz looked up, he had been crying.

"I lost her, it's because of me that she isn't around." His voice low, full of regret.

"We are a team, we lost her, it's not just on you son, this happened on my watch and we will find her." Price put a hand on his shoulder, hopefully giving him some comfort. For hours and hours, they walked along the nearby village, trying to ask if they had maybe seen you. Until by some miracle, a little boy pointed to a building on the outskirts of the village.

The men, cautiously walked to it, making sure there were no active threats to them or any civilians. With much luck, they once more threw a flashing and smoke grenade, running in as soon as possible. Their guns aimed at a small group of men.

"Where is she?" Price asked the men, one oof them pointed to a room. The man had a sinister smile, grinning as Gaz and Ghost went into the room.

"She's in here!"

Price and Soap made them men get on their knees, tying them up. Nikolai, who was still waiting for them, much nearer now, called to them over radio.

"Bravo 0-6, how copy"

"This is bravo 0-6, whats the matter"

"Did you find target"

"yes, Gaz and target will go to you."

"Roger that"

Once Gaz had a steady grip of you, you two made way to the helicopter. Nikolai took you both back to base. While you were making way home, the three men stayed behind to give the men who captured you a taste of their own medicine.

For nearly 2 hours they tortured them, making them beg for mercy. And when Nikolai had informed them he had returned for them, they shot the men, killing them all and going into the helicopter. The ride back was quiet because although they were victorious, you hadn't seemed so great. According to Ghost and Gaz, it was as if you were already dead.

You had been tortured for days on end, your skin once soft, was now full of dry blood, cuts and bruises. You couldn't speak, not even a simple word came out of your mouth. The jokes that Soap would make, only had you smiling, but even that hurt to do. The machines and nurses at ever minute, panicked Price. Why were they here in your room so much?

Yes, you were injured but this many times that they had to come in was alarming. The men all took turns to take care of you. Except Gaz, no one could make him leave your room. He needed a shower? He'd shower in the one that your hospital room had. Hungry? Food would be ordered. Bored? he made sure to talk to Soap over the phone when it wasn't Soap's day to come over.

It took 2 surgeries, countless amount of medicine and many more to get you to finally recover. You were now back in your room, watching some shit show on your phone when the team knocked on your door.

Price opened the door, but didn't peak in. They were all coming back into your room. Wanting more cuddles and to watch shit shows with you as they all fought for a place in your bed, or on your couch.

"Hey kiddo, are you there?"

A/N: I hope this is the ending you guys expected:)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Tags: @sesshomaruwaifu

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the-empress-7 · 1 month

Note

“However, I am told things are finally ‘moving in the right direction”

Hell. This implies the initial treatment took a greater toll or wasn’t as effective as originally expected by her medical team 🤯😢

Bugger.

Hopefully someone might suggest to Prince William that he talks with Crown Prince Haakon at some stage given his wife has had to almost fully retire from public life due to her medical condition. Admittedly their children are a decade older than the Wales’s, if not more than that, and therefore can be of more tangible support to the Crown Prince but it’s a similar path I assume.

I rather regret that Rebecca English published this today, rather than the other side of the Harkles Columbia trip because they will try and use this for leverage. 🇬🇧

To me there’s a huge difference between a chronic condition that cant be cured and something like cancer which can be in many cases. Catherine might have a long road ahead of her, but she will make a full recovery.

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ladyescapism · 10 months

Text

fractured bonds - part 4

summary: Rhys' little sister has always been nothing but loyal to her brother and court. however, the cauldron chooses the most inconvenient male as her mate: Eris Vanserra. will Ryn accept the heir of autumn as her mate? will her family?

part 1 -- part 2-- part 3

a/n: there will be one or two more parts to this, I just need to decide if there will be a confrontation with Azriel and Cassian as well or just a conversation between Eris and Ryn.

anyways, hope you enjoy and let me know if you want to be tagged!

warnings: emotions

wc: 2,000

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rhys POV

“Mate,” Cassian snapped in disbelief.

“I saw them, brother,” Rhys sighed. “It seemed like a mate bond to me.”

He could scarcely believe it himself.

“But mates are supposed to be equals,” Cassian interjected. “Eris is a snake and well…” he trailed off. Rhys knew what he meant. And Ryn was their sister. Their baby sister.

“We can’t focus on that now,” Feyre added, trying to be a voice of reason. “What we know for certain is that Ryn is healing, and that’s a good thing.”

“You’re right, Feyre,” Cassian said. “But the thought of his hands on her.”

Rhys saw Cassian’s hands clench and the siphons topping them glare. He glanced to Mor, who was suspiciously quiet about this whole situation. She looked up and met his eye.

He could see it all there. All the questions. How long did Ryn know about the bond? Had she formed a relationship beyond it with Eris? What was her future going to look like?

Holding eye contact for a moment longer, Mor rose, and showed herself out of the tent. Azriel’s eyes followed her form out, shame still clouding his features for Ryn’s state.

“You didn’t know, Az,” Rhys said before Az disappeared. “You did what you could with the information you had.”

Rhys knew it didn’t matter. No amount of absolution from himself, or Ryn, or any of them would make Azriel forgive himself.

“Let’s all get some rest,” Feyre soothed. “It’s been a long day.”

Leaving Azriel, Cassian, and Feyre to mutter about their shock at the revelation, Rhys trailed after Mor, knowing where she went.

When he arrived at the healing tent, Mor was sitting outside on an overturned bucket. Rhys stopped a few feet from her.

“I almost went in,” she said to the ground. “But I don’t want to put any more stress on her trying to send Eris away if she is hallucinating that she needs him.”

Before Rhys could try and comfort her, Madja came through the tent flaps. “I was just about to come looking for you. I have some updates about Kathryn.”

Mor rose to her feet.

“There is minimal l damage to her body from the poison. My prognosis that she will make a full recovery in three days maximum holds.”

Rhys heard the sigh of relief that came from Mor.

“She is still dehydrated and exhausted. She had not been able to keep down any food, but I awake and talking.”

Mor’s body lurched for the tent flaps but halted herself.

“He has been by her side this entire time. I haven’t told him anything other than that she will be fine,” Madja said, looking at Mor’s conflicted face.

“Thank you,” Rhys said, dipping his head in her direction in a silent dismissal.

Ryn’s POV

Everything was a blur. Ryn’s entire body felt like it had been used in place of a sparring dummy. And her head felt like an Illyrian legion trampled over it. She needed water.

She peeled her eyes open, the desperation for water driving her. As her vision became focused, she was surprised to find the fire-headed male before her. Eris had stayed with her.

Ryn could not speak. Her throat was too dry. And she would have no idea what to say to him.

Thanks for saving my life, I guess. I still can’t bring myself to accept that were mates though. Hopefully my family doesn’t kill you before I can think about this a little more.

She gently smacked her lips together, hoping Eris got the point. He did, and promptly brought over the glass of water someone left in the tent. Ryn worked her way up onto her elbows, every movement sending pain lashing through her body. Once she was propped on one elbow, she reached a shaky hand for it, but Eris said nothing as he lifted the glass to her lips for her and tilted it so she could sip.

“Thank you, Eris,” she said after a few mouthfuls. “For everything and the water.” He set the glass on the ground.

He didn’t reply, but his chest heaved with a sigh at her words. His head fell into his hands. With only them in the tent, she felt comfortable enough to reach her hand out to touch his forearm.

His skin was warm. Ryn could feel the corded muscle there, powerful and taught. If she was well, she would have imagined how those arms could hold her. Either lovingly or passionately. She felt what it could have been like between them during that moment in the corridor.

Eris lifted his head but did not move his arm from her reach as he stared at where their skin connected. As if he too was seeing the few inches of skin that connected in that moment but felt what that would feel like all over his body.

He finally looked her in the eyes, his rich amber meeting her icy cobalt, and she saw everything there. The concern. The worry. The relief. The anger.

“Eris,” was all she managed to whisper before movement at the tent flaps caught her attention and she dropped Eris’ forearm.

“Ryn,” Mor breathed out. Her eyes darted from Ryn to Eris, and at the hand that Ryn dropped but not quickly enough that Mor didn’t see. The betrayal that lingered in her cousin’s eyes made Ryn want to crawl into her own skin and never come out.

Rhys came in behind Mor and gave Ryn the same look he had been giving her for centuries. The combination of disappointment and resignation that always made her feel so small. She could handle being tortured for a few hours, but having both of them giving her the look was going to make her have a break down.

Not wanting to cry in front of Eris, Ryn asked, “Can you excuse us? I need time with my family.”

Eris agreed, wishing her well on his way out. He didn’t bother to say anything to Rhys or Mor. Either from anger at being pushed out or knowing that nothing he said made this situation any better.

As soon as he left the tent, Mor rushed to Ryn’s side. Immediately, she pushed the sweat slicked hair from her face and fussed that she was too hot, and the fever clearly hadn’t broken.

“I’m fine, Mor,” Ryn insisted. “Madja said that I should make a full recovery in a few days.”

“Yeah, she told us too.”

Both females looked into each other’s eyes. Mor had always been more like a sister than a cousin. Ryn had a sister once, but barely remembered her along with her mother. But Mor had always been in her life. Amren was there too, of course. However, Mor was the one who took her to get her first corset, talked her through her first cycle, defended her to Rhys when she went on her first date. It was Mor who had done so much for her and yet she was holding the hand of the male who had hurt her deeply.

“By that look, I am assuming you know,” Ryn whispered to the bed sheets, noting the questions flickering in her eyes.

“Rhys suspected when you came in together and he was acting like that.” Mor looked at her and took her hand, brown eyes pleading. “Tell me everything.”

Ryn shook her head but before she could plead with Mor to not force her to break her heart, Mor insisted.

“We tell each other everything!” Mor shouted, standing up from the chair. “Did I do something that made you think that you couldn’t tell me?” Mor gestured to her heart with her hand as her face twisted with anger.

“I didn’t want this,” Ryn’s voice cracked as she explained. “I can’t stand that you’re mad at me, and Rhys giving me the I’m disappointed in you look.” Ryn couldn’t control when her own face twisted, and tears rolled down her face.

“Why would I be mad about something you have no control over?”

“Because he hurt you,” her voice broke. “He hurt you and yet… I feel things for him.”

“I am not mad at you, baby,” Mor let out an exasperated sigh. “I am terrified for you.”

Ryn stilled at the admission.

“I am terrified that he will hurt you. I am scared that his father will get his hands on you. I am horrified that you will go into the court of snakes and not thrive,” Mor let every emotion show in her face. “And I am scared that you will leave this court and never come back to me.”

“What makes you think that any force on heaven or earth could keep me from you?” Ryn felt the hot tears pouring down her face. “Eris has been my mate for two months,” she sucked in a breath, “You have been my everything since forever.”

They stared at each other again, and Mor’s face contorted, and a sob shook her chest.

Rhys went over to her, took her shoulders in his hands, and pulled her to his chest. She shook with silent sobs for a moment while Ryn looked on.

After a moment, Mor stilled herself. Wiping away her tears, she moved to sit back down in the chair. Mor gave her a short smiled, picking up and ringing Ryn’s hand in her own.

“Tell me how it happened,” Mor said. “Tell me everything.”

“I don’t want to make you feel any worse.”

“I need to know,” she insisted. “I think it will make it better if I am kept informed.”

“Only if you’re sure.”

Her golden hair reflected with the fae lights as she nodded her head.

Ryn sucked in a deep breath, the expansion of her lungs burning a bit. Goddess on Earth she hated being injured. “Remember when Rhys sprung Eris and Keir on you at the Court of Nightmares? That night I went back to see if I could catch him doing anything suspicious. I followed him using the tunnel network you told me about.”

“Clever girl,” Mor praised, and Ryn felt the smirk raise at the corner of her mouth before she could stop it.

Rhys moved and sat on the other side of the bed.

“He caught me looking at him from behind a tapestry in the guest wing. I ran, but he followed me, cornered me, and…”

Ryn trailed off, not wanted to share that she kissed him.

“Well, when did the bond snap?” Mor’s eye filled with questioning.

“He cornered me, and it was a heat of the moment, didn’t think it through, kiss.” Ryn lifted her shoulders towards her ears, feeling the blush rising there. “And that’s when it clicked.”

“He didn’t force himself on you, did he,” Rhys questioned from where he sat.

Ryn snapped her head to her brother. “No, you ass.”

She huffed, turning back to look at Mor. “Listen, I love you but I am tired and somehow hungry and nauseous at the same time. Can I recover a bit more before we get deeper into this conversation?”

“Already on it,” Cassian said, coming up behind Rhys, a steaming bowl of broth cradled in his hands. “I got one of the camp mothers to warm you up some clear broth.”

Cassian lowered his large body onto the small bed, the frame dipping with his weight. Ryn sat up a little straighter and reached for the bowl. Cassian pulled it from her reach.

“Sick babies get spoon fed,” he chided.

Rhys stood, the bed getting a little too crowded.

“What is with people not letting me eat or drink for myself tonight,” she exclaimed. The three of them looked confused before Ryn added, “Never mind. Just give me the damn soup.”

Cassian laughed as he handed over the soup and everyone watched her take a few spoonsful.

“So, Eris hunh?”

Ryn peered up from him under her lashes, making direct eye contact as she took an obnoxiously loud slurp of soup. “Yep.”

Cassian looked at her expectantly. “Have you figured out if the carpet matches the drapes?”

Rhys reached out and swatted the back of his head.

The males began bickering. But all their noise faded to the background when Ryn again looked to Mor and found her cousin staring at her with love and affection on her face, not a wink of betrayal in her eyes.

All works:

@feysandzoyalailover @fanfictioniseverything @humanpersonlasttimeichecked @marina468 @singhillada

Fractured bonds:

@a-mexican-waffle @cafe-inaaa @feiwelinchen @theviewfromtheotherside @chasing-autumns-chill @mineymak712 @hells-sluttiest-new-arrival @the-sweet-psycho @impossibelle @nanamihokage98 @theviewfromtheotherside

#acotar #acotar imagine #acotar fic #eris acotar #eris x oc #eris vanserra #rhysand #acowar #a court of wings and ruin #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #azriel #morrigan #rhys sister

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matan4il · 1 year

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Daily update post:

Last night, they lit 1,350 candles at the Western Wall, the second holiest site in Judaism, in memory of 1,350 innocent lives murdered by Hamas, in the presence of some of the first responders who entered the homes of the massacred to extract the bodies.

Lucy Aharish, the Israeli Muslim Arab news anchor, who had spoken up for her country a few days ago, gave CNN this important and chilling interview:

Lucy is very popular in Israel, she's also married to a popular actor and singer, yet I admit I didn't know that, as an Israeli, she was herself the target of Palestinian terrorism when she was 5 years old. I wish I could hug her.

I've reblogged this separately, but because it's so important, I will include this link here, too. I have seen denial of the beheading of babies, but also denial that babies were killed at all, denial that there was a mass rape of young women (despite multiple testimonies, as well as pictures where the location of the blood stains on the victims' pants leaves no room for doubt), denial that civilians were targeted, and lastly, denial that the massacre even happened. So let me be clear: this is the kind of antisemitic crap that Holocaust deniers pull.

While all southern towns were evacuated, because they're still under threat, some Israelis are risking their lives to go back in, to rescue the pets still there. As these towns were agricultural communities, we're talking everything from cats to horses. In the case of this rescued dog, his owner is in the hospital, so they had to find him a temporary foster home until his owner hopefully makes a full recovery.

I'm not including in my daily updates reports about every attempted infiltration, every attempted independent terrorist attack, every drone launched at Israel, every rocket attack, because there are just too many every single day. Just please know that all of these threats to Israeli civilians are still on going.

Thank you for reading, thank you for listening to the voices of Israelis, and thank you for remembering that we are human beings.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #israeli #israel under attack #israel under fire #antisemitism #judaism #jew #jews #jewish #jumblr #frumblr #israelunderattack #terrorism #anti terrorism #hamas

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arizonaraine · 9 months

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Sorting Hat Chats: Heroes of Olympus

I did not write this, this is an original from @sortinghatchats. I found it on the wayback machine like two years ago and have had it saved in my notes. So this is my contribution to y'all's recovery efforts! Not sure whether to give credit to Inky or Kaden, let me know :)

OK, so I sometimes give speeches on long road trips about the Slytherinness of Percy Jackson. THAT KID. His fatal flaw is canonically that, forced to choose between the world and his friends, he would choose his friends. Slytherin Primary, all the way. Kid’s almost running around waving a banner with his hair dyed silver and green.

He’s also a Slytherin Secondary. Yeah, I know, the kid’s loud and coarse and a bit of a bro (he is. I love him, but he is). But Percy thinks rapidly on his feet, adapts to dangers by snapping up whatever weapon (physical, godly, mental, emotional) is nearest at hand, and is shamelessly, easily comfortable with using others for his own gain.

When the chips are down, the only thing he cares about are his inner circle: Annabeth, his mom, and sometimes Grover and Tyson. He’s content to use and sometimes destroy useful bystanders like Nico and “Bob,” to keep his people safe. He may like Nico and Bob, even empathize if someone like Annabeth isn’t in immediate danger, but at the end of the day he would (and does) trade their happinesses and safety for their utility.

But Percy doesn’t look like a traditional Slytherin/Slytherin. The boy is not smooth. The kid is not slipping around corners and cleverly avoid ruffling feathers while he steals his victories out from other peoples’ pockets. Percy lives almost always in his neutral state— this is something we talk about more deeply in our Slytherin Secondary post. But the neutral state is when a Slytherin isn’t using the code-switching and ease that is inherent to this secondary. Most Slytherin Secondaries only do this at home, when they are safe, relaxed, and in the company of only their most trusted people. It is literally dropping your guard. And Percy leaves his emotional guard hanging pretty much all the time; he’s bluntly and rather uncouthly on his sleeve. But the moment physical danger sets in, he goes full torpedoes ahead with a guile that is rough-edged but certainly present.

I’ll sort the rest of the Seven, Nico, and Reyna under the cut, hopefully with a little less verbiage. Slight spoilers forBlood of Olympus, but I did try to be a vague as possible.

Annabeth, my brash, bright, idealist darling, whose greatest desire is to rebuild a broken world anew, and whose fatal flaw is hubris and pride, is a Ravenclaw Primary. She is right, certain, and willing to sacrifice herself for the things she values. Clever, studious, prepared, she’s also a Ravenclaw Secondary.

Piper literally has the Slytherin Secondary as a superpower. Now, her charmspeak wouldn’t actually have any effect on her actual Secondary (your skills don’t matter as much as the methods you want, or respect in tactics). But Piper uses her charmspeak like her lungs by the end of the series, and even in flashbacks we find her conning people into giving her cars.

She House shares with Percy, actually: Slytherin/Slytherin, though she has a Hufflepuff Performance where Percy just… doesn’t… bother. Piper’s Slytherin Primary is most apparent in her dedication to her friends, and her decision over the course of The Lost Hero to sacrifice even them to save her father (a decision I’m not sure she’d make by the end of the series, when she’d bonded further to them).

Jason is a Hufflepuff Primary raised in a world of Gryffindors—so, yeah, the kid looks really Gryffindor. But he learns to shuffle off the righteousness and rigidity of Roman life, and to embrace his own quieter service, empathy, and thoughtfulness for not only his crew, friends, and two camps, but also each of the forgotten gods. He’s at his most comfortable with a community to call his own that doesn’t demand his Heroism, and cause to dedicate his life to that involves serving and supporting people, not fighting for or leading them.

His Secondary is Gryffindor—he earnestly and honestly charges his problems (his straight forward attempts to reassure Nico during the Cupid thing; the honesty and integrity Piper appreciates in him). Because his internal drive and motivations aren’t Gryffindor, he doesn’t look that obvious— his goals are often things like keeping the peace aboard ship, making sure everyone else has the things they need, and getting knocked out during fights.

Leo reads a bit like a Slytherin, but i think he’s just a burned Puff Primary. Clearly a loyalist House, he’s guarded and sarcastic, bitter and a bit jaded, and doesn’t throw himself out with sacrifice and service the way Puffs like Jason might. He builds little communities, and big dragons. But while he likes Piper and Jason, or Hazel, his bonds aren’t anywhere near the intensity of true Slytherin Primaries like Piper or Percy. This suggests what he actually is is a burned Puff, a Hufflepuff Primary who’s been hurt enough that they keep their warmth close. When Leo does make decisions around people, it tends to be need-based rather than value-based— he’ll give up some of the people he loves because someone else who he loves, someone lonely and left *cough*, needs him more.

Ravenclaw Secondary for the kid, of course. Leo Valdez, my tiny engineer friend, you tinker on.

Hazel’s got a lot of layered-on traumas, losses, guilts, and misplacements that make her a little hard to sort*— her curse, her first death and her almost bringing Gaea’s apocalypse about early, her rebirth in a century not her own. But as she becomes more comfortable and confident throughout the second series, she begins to fall into a validating system of action, justice, and bravery. Her morality seems to be felt, and she is most at home with her weapon in hand, on Arion’s back, charging a clear foe with a clear conscience—she read, to me, like a Gryffindor who has stubbornly pulled herself out of a “stripped” state, with the help of some big hearts like Frank and Jason.

(*Note: traumas do not make you less of your own House, or even less obvious of a House, exactly. What I mean here is that it’s harder to Sort someone burned as much as Hazel has been from the outside. Hazel’s got so much jammed inside of her, and even her POV is secretive enough in the first book, that she’s not obvious until she relaxes and confides in the reader a little more).

Frank, dear Frank, with his willingness to burn himself out (literally) on Alaska’s icy plain, is a warm and solid Gryffindor Primary. That wasn’t about who needed him or who he loved; it was about right and wrong, and he was going to do right or die trying. A kind and worried rule follower, he seems to have Hufflepuff Secondary he feels like he should suppress. The Roman Legion is very much a Gryffindor-present-or-go-home kind of space— both Frank and Jason put on Gryffindor Models to fit in and feel at home. But where Jason is secretly a warm ball of Hufflepuff Primary, Frank actually is a Gryffindor Primary. The problem is, he doesn’t think his Gryffindor, his honestly strong and staunch sense of right and noble sacrifice, is good enough. So he models a more “brave” Gryffindor on top. Frank’s ascension to praetor, as Jason gives it up, was a beautiful step in both their journeys.

Reyna’s Hufflepuff Secondary manifests itself in her dedication to doing things right, her (if stiff) kindness, her strength-sharing powers, and the care and emotion that earn her Pegasus’s honor. It’s her Gryffindor Primary, however, that earns her Athena’s respect—her refusal to stand down and her dedication.

Nico di Angelo is a stunning Hufflepuff Primary. He loses his time, his world, his sister, any sense of safety at the camps of in his “friends,” any sense of home but perhaps a squat beside the River Styx— and when the world needs him, Nico doesn’t even think twice before running himself ragged trying to shut the doors of Death and defy Gaea. He’s not even part of the prophecy. He’s not liked, respected, or even wanted by almost anyone. But he shows up. He does what he can. He disappears without any expectation of respect, gratitude, or care. Thank goodness for people like Hazel, Frank, Jason, and Will.

Nico’s not even quite a burned Puff. He doesn’t build himself a community (except for arguably Hazel), but he still takes it on himself to save and serve the world.

It’s his secondary, more than his primary I think, that takes the brunt of his losses. He might have been a very young Ravenclaw secondary (cards! stats!) in his first appearance, and no matter how “dark” demigod he might be, the boy’s no Slytherin Secondary, but what his secondary actually is is rather unclear. He’s been beaten, stripped, and disillusioned. No tools feel comfortable in his hands. He’ll do whatever he has to do get the job done, and he doesn’t like any of it. The blossoming way he responds to Reyna and Hedge’s companionship, mutual respect, and affection however suggests he might be growing into a Hufflepuff Secondary once he finds a place or hearts safe enough to lay down roots.

(I hope so. Kid needs a break).

tl;dr

Percy and Piper are both Slytherin/Slytherins– deeply, sometimes destructively loyal, and masters of thinking quick and sideways on their feet.

Annabeth is the sole Ravenclaw Primary. She shares a Ravenclaw Secondary with Leo, who’s a burned Puff.

Frank, Reyna and Hazel are all Gryffindor Primaries, with Jason the odd Hufflepuff out. Frank and Reyna have Puff secondaries they try to cover up with Gryffindor models (hello Rome), while Hazel and Jason both have Gryffindor’s charging Secondary. They’re both most at ease facing their problems head on and with honest integrity.

Nico is a Hufflepuff, burned in terms of letting himself have nice things, but not burned in terms of feeling like he needs to save the world, even if it keeps spitting on him.

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vickyvicarious · 5 months

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(In order to not derail op's thread, and jic they've not finished reading the books, hope this is ok) The madness/mental illness discussion between Laura and Jonathan made me think about the in-between of Jonathan leaving the hospital and then being validated!

One thing is, pre-Hawkins death, Mina states to Lucy that Jonathan has been working hard, but that he is weak still and placid, and also that he has nightmares. It tells on them both, because Mina cannot get a full night's sleep due to him waking up screaming and she needs to soothe him. Journal aside, Mina says she is so worried about his nerves that she doesn't communicate with him about how tired she is herself. It reminds me of Walter wanting to protect Laura from distress.

Post-Hawkins death, Jonathan gets worse. "He says the amount of responsibility which it puts upon him makes him nervous. He begins to doubt himself. I try to cheer him up, and my belief in him helps him to have a belief in himself. But it is here that the grave shock that he experienced tells upon him the most. Oh, it is too hard that a sweet, simple, noble, strong nature such as his—a nature which enabled him by our dear, good friend’s aid to rise from clerk to master in a few years—should be so injured that the very essence of its strength is gone."

Not a very traditionally ''manful'' picture, but Mina never goes there. Still, he throws himself into work. Mina says her belief in him helps Jonathan believe in himself. Maybe Laura would have benefited from being believed in.

What prompts Walter to do something drastic is when Laura weeps in her sleep. What prompts Mina to break the seal later is when Jonathan faints in public and loses the memory of it.

The way Mina treats Lucy and Jonathan in illness seems equal. She keeps their secrets upon their request too. Walter and Mina take similar active roles for their spouses, though Mina isn't necessarily masculine for it.

An interesting imho comparison could also be when Mina chooses to consult Van Helsing while Jonathan is away for his first work trip and how they communicate throughout it, and Walter with the sisters.

Aside, when she asks Van Helsing to help Jonathan, he says, "I promise you that I will gladly do all for him that I can—all to make his life strong and manly, and your life a happy one." Van Helsing promises to make his life manly, though Mina had asked to make him "well again". So he kind of made it about gender, though it wasn't for Mina.

(I also wonder if we can call Jonathan ''cured'' really, as he doesn't actually return to his former self, but it'd get too long!)

(Tagging @animate-mush because the WIW substack has ended now, hopefully you're all caught up... but regardless no spoilers past where we were last week.)

Anon, you sum up my thoughts incredibly well: "Maybe Laura would have benefited from being believed in."

I think that is perhaps the most major difference between the recovery period for the two of them. Because while they both have remarkably similar symptoms, and both their spouses hide stuff from them for a while... when things come to a head Mina chooses to believe in Jonathan. Not just in supporting him as he goes back to work (which you're right, he has little choice about doing - an external gendered element there, where societal pressures/norms mean Jonathan kind of has to get to work and Laura is never expected to at all); Mina trusts Jonathan with information, with an important role in what follows.

There's obvious contextual differences. Jonathan knew he could access his lost memories and explicitly didn't want to unless it was necessary. He put the power to decide that in Mina's hands (and it was his request but still her choice to share in his ignorance until she needed more information). When she reads his journal, she's trying to better help him within parameters they have both agreed to. When she eventually tells him everything is true, she's trusting that this will be validating for him and help him heal, help him be more "well again" (though you're right both that he never returns to his former self, and that Van Helsing is the only one who brings gender into it with his assumption that Mina's looking to make Jonathan more manly).

Laura never had an equivalent - both in terms of a discussion with the ones leaving her out for the sake of her mental health, and in the sense of some record she knows she can fall back on. She didn't have a hidden journal when she was being drugged or in the asylum. Most of the information Walter and Marian gather is from other people.

I think there is a period where both Jonathan and Laura have information hidden from them for their own sake. And I don't think that was inherently wrong or anything; in fact I think it was somewhat needed. Jonathan got the chance to explicitly ask for that period of ignorance. We don't quite have any such dialogue from Laura, but the narration still tells us that there were certain topics that were very confusing to her or which she didn't like to linger on (and her experience with Mr. Fairlie even after getting out of the asylum can't have helped), and there's that scene where she says she will "try to get better", showing recognition of how unwell she currently is. I think they both need this time to focus on recovering, and their spouses/loved ones want to support them so they can do so. Again, the societal gender role divides them here: Jonathan has to work and in fact has to take on new/more challenging work, while Laura doesn't and can devote more time to rest and recovery. There's benefits and drawbacks to both of those, in my mind. Jonathan got support from Mina and reassurance that she (and Mr. Hawkins) believed in him, which was helpful. On the other hand, it stressed him out more and he was still suffering from his nightmares, etc. Laura got more time to take it easy without having other stress added on, which was helpful. But on the other hand, she didn't get the same level of trust and belief in her ability to, if not 'return to normal,' at least to be productive and helpful in some way.

Yeah, I'm talking about her drawings. I think that is where the big divide comes. Because when she wants to contribute and help with the household, Walter decides to lie to her and play-act that she is bringing in money. I get that he's trying to avoid letting her stress over money, but it feels so condescending. He's treating her like a child rather than being honest with her - right after she asks him not to treat her like a child. Maybe being honest would just be telling her that she's not well enough to work/that it wouldn't be safe, and that he has the money handled. Maybe they'd come up with some other way she could chip in. At least she'd be involved in the discussion as she clearly wanted to be. And while I don't think she would be involved in the hunting down different accounts or confrontations that follow at the end of the book any more than Marian was, I think they should have told her what was going on. That doesn't necessarily mean giving her all the nitty gritties especially if they're triggering to her; but giving her the chance to speak for herself, to add her thoughts, even to ask to be left out if she thinks she can't handle it. She never gets that. There's no reevaluation later on.

Both Jonathan and Laura were denied validation in a way that made them doubt their sanity. Jonathan's experiences were supernatural and he fears he lost his mind. Laura was lied to and gaslit about her own identity, outright told she was suffering from delusions. Revealing that the supernatural things he remember are real was validating for Jonathan in itself, even as he still had all the accompanying trauma. Laura's (official/public) validation isn't possible until after the villains are defeated and everything is over, which in a sense stretches out that middle period. Similarly, Jonathan getting the information leads right into him getting a change to assuage his feelings of guilt and seek revenge, which could be cathartic for him. Laura probably wouldn't have the same opportunities or even desire to do so, and so maybe looping her in wouldn't have been as helpful. But it feels cruel to me never to give her the option. After a certain point, it's no longer just trying to spare her from distress, but it feels like believing she isn't capable of handling any at all.

I guess that's what feels most gendered to me. Walter, and to an extent Marian too, don't treat Laura like an adult or an equal after her experience. This does happen throughout the book, but it gets so much more egregious after she's rescued from the asylum. Marian talks about women/is kind of treated like an exception to women in general, and Walter is leaving both women out in key moments. So given how women were typically seen as less capable, to me it feels somewhat bound up in that rather than just being about her specifically (I think she handles/is capable of a lot more than she's given credit for). Mina doesn't do really that, she doesn't really bring gender into her treatment of either Jonathan or Lucy in the same way. And while others in Dracula do, it's shown to be more of a mistake.

#dracula daily #dracula daily spoilers #woman in white weekly #anonymous #replies #dracula meta #wiw meta #i'm so mad about the drawings lie okay

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websterss · 2 years

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THOSE EYES — LUKE PATTERSON

REQUEST: Hi!! So I've seen your account recently and I really would like you to write jatp luke Patterson x reader, when the Reader is always so goofy and childish. So they are sick like they have a very bad fever, and they are very weak and Luke takes care of them, and maybe sings a lullaby to help them sleep by singing to them and rocking them please.

WARNING(S): um cussing mostly, and fluff

WORD COUNT: 985

PAIRING: Luke Patterson x fem!Reader

A/N: Hope you enjoy it! ♡ Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

“Y/n, I know you’re in there!” Rapid thuds against your window can be heard. The loudness that vibrates through the window shook through your body. You pull the duvet over your head to hopefully muffle the sounds of your annoying friend.

“Come on, let me in!”

“Goaway.” You muffle yelled. Though to your annoyance, it simply slipped your mind that Luke has the ability to poof in and out of places. Perks of being a ghost. “No. I wanna be at peace!” You whine as you sense his presence before you.

“Hello to you too, sunshine.”

“Goaway.” Your voice muffled under your blanket.

“Can’t do that. Julie specifically told me to come and help you around the house since she’s at school.”

“Why!” You kick out the duvet off you. Moving around frantically, part tantrum. “I don’t need a ghost. I need a goddamn miracle-“ You stop feeling clogged up air in your chest causing you to cough. “God I hate being sick.”

“Do you need anything?” Luke walked over, pressing the back of his hand against your warm tempered forehead. “No fever.”

“I just wanna sleep honestly.” You sigh heavily. Turning your head to meet his eyes. “I have this massive migraine that I’ve been trying to cure with ibuprofen for the last couple days, but I stopped because I’m scared of growing an addiction.” You muster a grin, finding the bit hilarious. “Then there’s my congested nose, trying to breathe has been a bitch. I keep waking up in the middle of the night in coughing fits because my lungs can’t get any air.”

“You gotta tell your lungs to work man!”

“I’m trying!” You laugh, heaving a slight bit then feeling the urge to cough again. “This sucks. I don’t even know how I got sick. It’s like all my energy just got drained right out of me. It’s ruined my whole week.” You let your arms fall in defeat by your sides. “I’m sorry, Luke. I know I said I’d be there for the band’s rehearsals but— I barely have the energy to get out of bed these days.” A faint smile paints your face.

“Hey, don’t sweat it okay. Rehearsals will still be there for you to watch after you get better alright? Besides, we can always record what you’ve missed.” Luke sat on the edge next to you. His comfort dissolves the aches and pain that run through your entire system. The mere thought of knowing someone wanting to look after you, gave you hope for a full recovery sooner rather than later. “Though you’re not missing much honestly.”

“Only my social life.” You dismissed passively. “Can’t believe I’m stuck here and you guys are making music. Unfair.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better-” He pointed at your side, activating your flight or fight response. You laughed moving away from his hands, never one to enjoy being tickled. “We’re not really having much luck with coming up with new songs.”

“Now that I found it hard to believe.”

“No seriously, it’s like we ran out of inspiration.”

“Oh come on! You guys seriously haven’t written anything while I’ve been at home sick?”

Luke shrugged. “We’re all missing our muse…” He reached forward to boop you on the nose.

“Please, I’m no muse.” You half heartedly laugh.

“Maybe not the guys, but definitely mine.” He nodded surely.

“Well then, I’m honored.” You reach forward and take a hold of his hand. Twiddling with his fingers. Intertwining and untwining your hand with his. “Any chance I can hear something?” You batted your eyes playfully. A pout full on display. “Would you sing for a poor sick girl?” You force a cough out of your mouth. “A sneak peek of what’s to come?”

“You sure know how to persuade a guy.” Luke smirked.

“What can I say–“ You cough again. “I’m pretty convincing.” Your eyes crinkle, a sleepy haze falls over your tired form.

“Alright sleepy head, I’ll give you something.” He brought his hand up to lightly brush away some flyaway hairs from your eyes. His touch softly lingering. Soothing the slight ache that didn’t want to go away.

“What’s it–“ You yawn big. “called?”

“Well, Julie, the guys, and I haven’t really settled on a name yet, but I think we’re inching closer with Those Eyes.”

“It sounds nice…” You adjust yourself into the bed. Bring the covers up to your chest. The thing about having the flu was that you had the tendency to get shivers here and there, other times hot spells causing you to kick off the covers. A continuous back and forth situation. Right now you were just simply feeling cold.

“It does. It’s a little slower than any of our other songs, but I think it’ll be a nice touch to the album.”

“Let’s hear it, rockstar.” You hummed. Placing your hands flat over your covered stomach.

“Give me a second.” Luke scoffed humorously. He began making a rhythmic beat on his jean clad thigh, head slowly bobbing as he tried to find his pitch. He took a deep breath and began singing.

“Cause all of the small…things that you do…are what remind me why I fell for you...” His smile grew seeing you start to slip into a deep slumber. Your breathing evening out and becoming slower. He leaned forward, letting his hands caress the side of your cheek gently. His heart fluttering as you subconsciously leaned into his touch. “and when we're apart, and I'm missing you. I close my eyes and all I see is you...and the small things you do.” He leaned back and watched you sleep. His favorite pastime, knowing you were getting rest, and at peace in the comfort of your bedroom. “Sweet dreams, peaches.” Then he was gone in a poof. Silence filling the space, and your sleep unbothered.

#luke patterson #luke patterson imagines #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x fem!reader #jatp luke patterson #my gif #writings by juls

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writingwhimsey · 3 months

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Married to The Enemy- Shingen Ch. 35

Chapter 35

I was sitting in the waiting room with Sasuke. It had felt like it had been hours, but in reality it had only been about one hour. The doctor had said the surgery was likely to take three or four hours. It just depended on if there were any complications once he got into Shingen’s lung to remove the tumor. Then of course, he would be in recovery for a bit before being transferred back to his room where I would be able to see him.

“There you are.”

I looked up at the sound of the familiar voice. “Oba-san…” I said standing up.

She instantly came over to me and pulled me into a hug. “On the phone the other night, you said the surgery was today. I wanted to come sit with you.” She said.

I smiled as I hugged her back. “Thank you.”

We were then pulling apart and she was looking at Sasuke. “You must be Sasuke.” Oba-san said.

Sasuke nodded as he rose to bow politely to my grandmother. “Yes, it is nice to meet you.” He said.

She smiled. “I’m just glad to know my Ava has good friends to help look out for her.” She said.

It was then that I noticed Oba-san had a bag with her…and it looked like it was full of something. “Oba-san what is that?” I asked.

“Oh just some snacks I made for you.” She answered. “And Sasuke you are welcome to some as well.”

I took the bag from Oba-san and opened it. My eyes widened and my mouth began to water. “We’ll have to save at least two for Shingen when he’s able to eat regular food again.” I said.

“What is it?” Sasuke asked.

I held out the box. “Oba-san’s homemade dorayaki…she makes the best.”

“There’s also some senbei, some mochi, and some fresh fruit and rice balls in the other containers.” Oba-san said.

I smiled at my grandmother, grateful to her. Feeding people was one of the ways she showed her love. “Thank you, Oba-san.”

“Of course.” She replied.

The three of us were sitting down then and digging into the treats she had brought. “So, Sasuke, Ava tells me you two are time travelers together.”

Sasuke looked at me. “You told her?”

I nodded. “One, I am a terrible liar.” I explained. “And two, I knew if anyone were going to believe me it would be Oba-san.”

“She’s right.” Oba-san said. “So, how exactly did you become a ninja? Ava says you’re really good at it.”

Sasuke nodded. “Well, I always practiced parkour before…and then I underwent intensive training under Lord Kenshin.”

“What exactly was your training?” I found myself asking, happy for the distraction.

“Pretty much Lord Kenshin always ambushing me.” Sasuke answered. “I had to be prepared to fight or flee at a moment’s notice.”

“So…is he still training you then?” I asked, recalling the many times I’d witnessed just such a thing.

“I’ve come to learn that surprise attacks are just how he shows he cares…or tries to cure his boredom.” Sasuke answered. “It can be hard to tell which it is in the moment.”

“Then he REALLY cares about you a lot.” I replied.

“And Lord Shingen, too.” Sasuke said. “Death threats are also a way he shows he cares.”

“I can see that.” I replied.

“It sounds like castle life is quite lively.” Oba-san said, a smile on her face.

“Definitely.” I replied. “Even more so when the Oda forces come to visit.”

“Yes. We almost run out of sake and pickled plums then, though trying to keep Lord Kenshin from starting a war.” Sasuke replied.

My eyes widened. “Oh my…”

“What is it?” Oba-san asked.

“I just remembered, the Oda were supposed to be coming to visit for the alliance meeting…” I said, looking at Sasuke.

“Poor Yukimura.” Sasuke said. “We may have to bring something extra special back then.”

“If there’s even a place to come home to.” I replied. “Hopefully the alliance is still intact when we return.”

“I am sure it will be.” Sasuke replied. “It isn’t completely on Yukimura’s shoulders alone.”

I nodded. “True, he does have Saki to support him.”

“And we had already been preparing. So there should be plenty of pickled plums and sake to placate Lord Kenshin.” Sasuke added. “And while Kanetsugu is extremely loyal to Lord Kenshin, he is also quite disciplined and able to keep a level head.”

I nodded. “Right. They’ve got this.”

“It sounds like life is quite interesting for you two.” Oba-san said.

“It’s never a dull moment.” Sasuke agreed.

Oba-san kept the conversation going, continuing to ask us both questions about our life in the Sengoku. It really didn’t seem to phase her and she seemed genuinely happy to hear about our adventures. I was also grateful for the conversation as it helped the time pass as we waited to hear how Shingen’s surgery went. Of course, that is probably exactly what my grandmother had planned to happen all along.

“Mrs. Takahashi?” A nurse called as she entered the room.

I stood up. “Yes? Is my husband out of surgery?”

She smiled. “Yes. Dr. Sato just called out to say he finished the surgery. Mr. Takahashi did fantastic. He is being moved to the recovery room as we speak. He will be monitored there for about an hour before he is moved back to his room. Once settled there, you will be able to go see him.”

I let out a sigh of relief and sent up a silent thank you to whatever deity might be watching. “That is such a relief to hear.” I said.

She smiled. “Dr. Sato has a few other surgeries this morning. But once he is finished with those, Mr. Takahashi should be more alert and Dr. Sato will be coming in to talk to you both.”

“Alright, thank you so much.” I said.

“Oh and I should add, only one visitor at a time.” She said, looking at Sasuke and my grandmother. She was then leaving.

I turned to Sasuke and my grandmother. “I…”

“Ava, don’t worry.” Sasuke said. “I am pretty sure the only face Lord Shingen will even be interested in seeing when he wakes up is yours.”

“And I am not meeting him without you there. When he’s out of the hospital, you’ll have to bring him by the house for dinner.” Oba-san told me,

I smiled. “Thank you. Both of you. So much.”

Back in the Sengoku…

Gathered in a room at an inn outside the castle…basically hiding from Kenshin. “I checked the stores, Sasuke and Lady Ava had already stocked up on pickled plums.” Saki said as she looked at the list she had on the table.

“That was some really good planning on their part.” Yukimura said, grateful for their planning.

“I had an idea for the banquet.” Yoshimoto spoke next. “Some entertainment that I think everyone will enjoy.”

“If it’s dancing girls, Lord Kenshin won’t like it.” Yukimura spoke up.

“Lord Kenshin doesn’t enjoy such frivolities.” Kanetsugu agreed.

“I know. Every time I have tried to bring in dancers he always says no…and threatens to kill me.” Yoshimoto replied. “I was actually thinking of a troupe of actors who will put on a play that involves a mock battle.”

“That…that’s actually a good idea.” Yukimura spoke up.

“A brilliant idea.” Saki agreed.

“I believe that would indeed please Lord Kenshin.” Kanetsugu replied. “It should keep the Oda entertained as well. Who from the Oda is attending anyways?”

“My report says Lord Nobunaga, Lord Hideyoshi, and Lord Ieyasu.” Saki answered.

“Ieyasu…perhaps I shouldn’t be in attendance.” Yoshimoto said. Though he honestly had great respect for Ieyasu…he understood why Ieyasu might hate him. Might still hate him after all these years. It was a fate he had been willing to accept.

“No, you should be there.” Saki said. “This alliance is about moving forward and away from the wounds of the past. Lord Ieyasu knows that.”

“You really think he can put aside his feelings like that?” Yukimura asked Saki.

Saki nodded. “Yes. Everyone in the Oda forces agreed to the alliance for a reason.” She said. “And also, even though Lady Ava won’t be there, her presence lingers for them.”

“What do you mean by that?” Yukimura asked.

“Lady Ava…she is very special to the Oda forces. They all have a strong bond with her and they wouldn’t ever do anything they knew would hurt her.” Saki answered. “They know this alliance is important to her. Plus they honor her decision to enter into the political marriage with Lord Shingen, realizing her true strength and bravery in doing so. They wouldn’t do anything to disrespect or dishonor her in her absence.”

“It still amazes me how one woman can have such an effect on so many people.” Kanetsugu said.

“Oh like the rest of you haven’t noticed it or been unaffected by it.” Saki replied. “I notice any time any of you get a tear in your clothing, you go to her instead of any of the other seamstresses. I also know you all helped with retrieving different items for her to make her feel at home here.”

“I only care about her because of Lord Shingen and Sasuke…and you.” Yukimura said to Saki.

Saki grinned and reached over to pinch his cheek. “You’re so cute, dummy.” She said. “It’s okay to care about your friends, you know.”

Yukimura’s cheek flushed under Saki’s touch. He reached over and pinched her cheek in retaliation. “Who are you calling a dummy, dummy?”

“Can we keep this meeting on track instead of you two doing this weird…mating ritual you have.” Kanetsugu spoke up, annoyed though there was a teasing almost gentle look in his eyes.

“Love really is a beautiful thing…even when it is strange.” Yoshimoto said, smiling as he watched the young couple. He couldn’t help but to think of his cousin and look forward to the day he would return, with renewed life. We shall see something truly beautiful when the two of you return, won’t we? He thought. I look forward to how lively and beautiful things will be upon your return.

Taglist: @limonzu @zulablaise @oda-princess @kisara-16 @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @lucyw260 @selenacosmic

#ikesen shingen #ikemen sengoku shingen #shingen takeda #otome shingen #cybird shingen #ikemen shingen #ikesen au #arranged marriage au #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #fanfic #ikemen series #otome boys #fanfiction #cybird

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