#also also thank you I hope you're having a good pride month too!

[smalltimidbean]

hey bean, I think it would be cool if you drew lavender and chamomile kissing for pride month ^_^ just a suggestion ofc, only if u wanna!!

Either way I hope you're having a good pride month >ᴗ< stay safe and joyful!!

^Silly

Silly aside; I'll consider it! I am still a little apprehensive to post clones being outwardly romantic, but if I stop being a weenie about it, then it'll probably be after I finish these refs

Also, not great at drawing kisses, especially with characters with big noses - like where does that thang go???

[mandalhoerian]

Shai! Shai! I've thought of another scenario for Leon😊 Altho being a new fan I've come to the conclusion that Leon is the type to believe he's not good enough for his partner, he believes they could do better then him. So imagine a Leon who has finally accepted he has feelings for you and works up the courage to confess only for you to turn the tables on him and say you dont feel good enough for him. I imagine he would be in disbelief? How would he react to his crush telling him "You're too good for me Leon."?

too good for me | leon kennedy x reader

pairing: leon kennedy x reader (unspecified gender) genre: fluff, miscommunication, the "endeared badass x normal person scared shitless of the endeared badass" trope. no spice, unfortunately. only good vibes and leon being head over heels smitten. enjoy! word count: 2.7K? It's short! notes: hi sarah! i am SO SORRY this has taken forever. you requested this one month ago! its been so hectic lately, i've been having health problems that required regular hospital visits and tests upon tests, but now that my surgery (yeah i know... yikes) is authorized i'm only waiting for them to call me for the date and have all the time in the world to get my rest and write. i'm also working on your other (wink wink) request! thank you so much for being patient with me. hope this is what you had in mind! i also added my touch and ideas to it lmao. happy reading!!

🌀 read on ao3!

“You’re too good for me,” is the hesitant, small answer you give him while avoiding eye contact and playing with your fingers in front of your office’s shared coffee maker Leon had made countless paperwork excuses to be able to simply stop by — to his question, that is, about why you wouldn’t go on a simple date with him. 

You puff out an awkward laugh to smooth things over as humorous but it’s forced and not at all sincere. 

It’s taken Leon a whole inner journey (Spain. Mostly the simultaneous trauma and catharsis of Spain) to get over himself to recognize what his heart truly wanted but was too pussy to look at before, yet here you two are. The lone angel in his life telling the failure Leon is that he’s too good? For you?

He simply stares, dumbly standing there, piping hot coffee that’s actually incompatible with his taste buds he insists he must do a detour to get from here simply because you often do, stiff and awkward in his hold, thinking he heard you wrong because he hasn’t gotten a good night’s rest — rest, not sleep — in forever since he came back from Spain. 

He’s been forcing himself to come to work just for a glimpse of you and your pretty face to recharge his battery, heal his soul a bit, let you be all that occupies his mind despite being laid off after that outrageous mission that resulted in the president’s unwanted favor and nightmares upon nightmares with only anxious yet soothing thoughts of you as the best bad out of the worst he’s had to face— and what is it that you said again?  

“You’re joking right?” Leon says, pride not knowing if it should be broken or not because he’s not sure to take this as a rejection, and it isn’t his intention for it to sound that harsh. He’s not some asshole who can’t take no for an answer, it’s your reasoning that has him downright jamming like a gun.

Leon has to remind himself to switch off work mode because now you look mousey as if he has a paw on your tail, shoulders pulled into yourself.  “Sorry!” He feels so bad, heart expanding within his ribcage and it aches, fuck, he just wanted to ask you out and all he’s doing is scaring you. “I’m sorry, you were kidding. I didn’t get it— I’m kinda slow and you sound flat sometimes, of course you weren’t serious, I’m—”

“No, I was serious.” His eyebrows furrow at yet another self-degradation from you. “It’s you who has to be kidding. What do you mean too good for you?”

You are at a loss of words, mouth opening but nothing coming out, and finally look him in the eye and all Leon wants to do is lean down and capture your mouth, he’s heavily distracted by you licking your lips and swallowing, the sighting of the tip of your pink tongue makes his shirt suddenly suffocating and tight. 

“I mean,” you begin tentatively, unaware of what’s going on in his head, vaguely gesturing to Leon. “Well… You’re you, I mean… And I’m. Me. Look at you and look at me. Why would you even…?”

“Hey,” Leon sets his mug on the counter, closing his eyes and pinching the insides with his thumb and pointer. The implications alone sent a zapping headache through his skull that he knows he has to rest to be able to unpack, especially when he’s finally decided on seriously pursuing you in spite of himself. Leon can’t let this remain unaddressed, for your sake and his sanity. “How about I wait for you after work today and we talk about this somewhere else?” He’s squinting. “In detail.”

“We don’t really need to—”

“We do.” Leon wants you to see he’s serious about this — about you. “Because I see something here that I want to pursue and we can’t have any misunderstandings. Would appreciate it if you at least give me the chance to clear the air.”

“P-pursue?” You swallow and Leon’s mind wanders again. “Clear the air you say…”

He breathes in. “Can you give me your phone?”

You slap it into his palm almost immediately, the speed with which you obey him without asking him any questions surprises him. He wants to scold if you’re willing to hand over your mobile to any guy who asks, but supposes it’s not his place — is frustrated this is what it takes to get him annoyed, as well. He isn’t some young adult. Weirdly, you make him feel like one.  

He’s punching his own number in, despite the conflicting feelings, finally feeling like this is getting somewhere and he’s doing it when you start talking again, nervous. “You can uh, clear the air… right here… without taking me to a secondary location…” 

His eyes flick up to yours in confusion and you look to the right immediately, and back to him. To the right. Back to him. It’s somehow comedic, because why do you look like you’re cornered by some bad guy? 

You really look like you want to be anywhere else than here, Leon’s fucking this up and he doesn’t even know what he’s doing wrong. Was he going too fast? Should he have told you his number and let you save it instead? 

You’re mumbling, nervousness clear as day for reasons he can’t fathom, he hears you, but he doesn’t really understand. 

“What? What's wrong?" Leon asks, his voice laced with genuine concern. He takes a step closer, wanting to bridge the gap between you and alleviate whatever discomfort you were experiencing. "You seem... uneasy. Did I do something wrong?"

Your eyes meet his briefly, then quickly shift away again, as if you are struggling to find the right words. 

Leon's heart sinks. His intention wasn’t to make you feel nervous or pressured, especially when he is genuinely trying to connect with you — then, in a brilliant moment of heart-stopping realization, the fact that you might just not be interested slaps him in the face and he’s…

Well. Wouldn’t that be the reality? 

Leon is… He isn’t exactly the ideal man. Not with what he does, and how his life is. He’s aware of that. Have been running from forming connections because of what he knows will end up happening because of that. He can’t get attached and keep losing people — can’t keep getting hurt in the vicious cycle to prevent everyone from getting hurt. It’s been the bane of his existence ever since STRATCOM plucked him off straight from Raccoon City. Even if you work in the same field as him, just different offices, who is to say it will work out anyway? 

He’s getting ahead of himself. You might not like him at all in the first place. Jesus. 

Maybe you see him for what he is. Maybe you think he’s not  —- the effort’s not worth it, and you wouldn’t exactly be wrong in thinking so. You could be wanting something else in life that he only has the desire to give you, and not the promise. He wouldn’t blame you, hell, who would blame someone for being their own person with their thoughts, wishes, wants and goals in life? 

You’re too good for me, really, is his line. It has been right from the beginning, his excuse in running away from his undeniable, frightening attraction to you.

"No, it's not you," you finally managed to articulate, prompting Leon to release the breath he was holding, your voice shaky, playing with your fingers. "I just... I feel a bit overwhelmed. This is all happening so fast, and I never expected..."

Leon nods, his expression softening as he realizes the weight of the situation. He hasn’t fully considered how his sudden confession and determination to pursue you might have caught you off guard. He has been so focused on his own feelings that he hasn’t taken into account your own thoughts and emotions.

"I understand," he replies, voice gentle and reassuring. "I didn't mean to overwhelm you. I just... I couldn't keep my feelings to myself anymore. But please know that I don't expect an immediate answer or any commitment from you. I just… Well. I just wanted to tell you. See where this goes. Or, maybe, if that’s not the case… Get rejected for good so I can move on, you know?"

You laugh a little and it’s genuine — you have no idea how it turns Leon’s heart into putty right where it hangs between two lungs. “Do you really mean all of that?”

“Of course,” he says, offended the tiniest bit. “Why do you think I would joke about something like this?”

“It’s not about you joking, really…” You’re uncomfortable again, hesitating to tell him something. 

“Hey, you can tell me.”

“Can you promise you won’t get mad?”

“What am I, your father?” He snorts. “Come on, tell me.” 

You brace yourself for it and he doesn’t understand why until you say it. “You, um… You’re kinda scary.”

He blinks. “Sorry?”

“Sorry!” You raise your hands up in panic. “I don’t really mean it like that, not to insult you or anything, it’s actually admirable, I’m just saying! Discipline, work ethic, unmatched field performance! You’re very… Very, uh… Intimidating, yeah, that’s the word…? I mean, like�� You, uh, you’re famous, you know, we all know your work, you’re very hard working, working hard, very hard work — uh, um… So it’s…”

“I scare you?” Leon swears he felt his eyes get bigger the faster you kept on vomiting words. “You think I would hurt you?” 

“No!” You reject strongly, waving a nervous hand at him. Silence befalls later, which you follow awkwardly with a silent, guilty. “Maybe,” after clearing your throat. 

 He had always strived to be a protector, but he hadn't realized that his image and reputation — what it had become after Spain — could have such an effect on someone he cares about. 

"I never meant to scare you," he says softly, his voice filled with genuine remorse, he puts the coffee mug on the counter and leans his hip on it, shoulders sagging a bit as he crosses his arms. The thought of you only feeling intimidation about him leaves a bitter taste worse than the coffee does. "I guess... I've always been so focused on work, on the dangers just around the corner — I’m aware how it might affect my relationships in the long run so I never attempted to form any at all, but I never realized how it might affect how people see me in the first place. I never wanted to make you, of all people, feel this way. I could never hurt you. Never."

“I didn’t want to imply you’re a guy who’d intentionally hurt someone—”

“Don’t worry about it,” he sighs, ruffling his hair to get rid of the awkwardness. “So I’ve just been bugging you this whole time, huh? Jesus. I’m so sorry.”

“No! No, don’t say that, you’re amazing! You’re like a hero around here…”

“Around here doesn’t mean shit,” he replies curtly, and regrets cursing like that in front of you immediately. It’s unbecoming of him — and doesn’t help his image in your eyes at all. He’s getting frustrated. His tone lowers into a softer, more disappointed, heartfelt one. “I only care about how you think of me.” 

“Well, you’re amazing,” you say again, bashfully this time, and it prompts him to look at you. There’s something shy about you now that has him standing taller in anticipation, wondering if it’s him reading this wrong or not. “It’s pretty well-known if you didn’t know.”

“I don’t know,” he prods, idiot heart fluttering at the way you’re flustered. “What do you think? Besides intimidating, I mean. Not reporting on the local gossip this time, if you don’t mind.”

“You seem like a nice guy,” you settle. The middle ground. “I’ve seen you with the president’s daughter.”

Leon's expression softens at your words, a mixture of relief and gratitude washing over him. He takes a deep breath, trying to let go of the tension that had built up within him. The mention brings a slight smile to his face, memories of Ashley flooding his mind, a fondness evident in his eyes. "Ah, Ashley. Yeah, that was quite the adventure. Though what can you be other than a nice guy when your mission is the president’s daughter?"

“I know a couple people who’d treat her like a package to be delivered. You prioritized her wellbeing more than anything.”

“What else was I supposed to prioritize?”

“You know what I mean. Emotional wellbeing. I’ve read your initial report and her statement. You cared about her.” A smile tugs at your lips, he can tell you’re a bit more comfortable now. "Especially during what you’ve been through. It's impressive how you handle yourself in those situations."

He shrugs modestly, a hint of pride shining in his eyes. You respect him. "I guess you could say it comes with the job. But it's not all action and danger, you know. There's more to me than just being a government agent."

Your curiosity piques, and you tilt your head, prompting him to continue. "Tell me more. What's Leon Kennedy like outside of work and missions?"

It catches him off guard that you want to know more and take the first step. You could have just rejected him. His heart picks up, chest expanding in excitement, he’s glad for the opportunity to share a glimpse of his life beyond the chaos of his work — he’s normally not eager to share pieces of his life like this, but… He’d give it to you on a silver platter, whether it'd lure you in or not. That’s how Leon knows he wants this with you so bad. “I wanna lie to woo you but… Would it be too unattractive to tell I really don’t have a life outside of work? I’m still trying to find some balance in my life. The upper echelon guys are pretty ruthless and demanding. I guess it means I can say I’m into traveling?”

“Is this the cool guy way of saying you’re an introvert these days?”

The unexpectedness of it is what gets him to throw his head back to laugh, and he catches you staring, scrambling to rub his face to get rid of it and regain some composure. “Yeah,” he breathes. “Pretty much.”

“Well,” you gesture at him, there’s a vague pink hue dusting your cheeks. “What are you into, then?”

God, he can’t stop, “Other than you?” from escaping his dumb mouth. He shouldn’t have said it. It’s too corny. So uncalled for. Your mouth hangs open and he wishes he could rewind the tape to take it back and choose some other option. “Say… What about we continue this discussion after work? I know a good coffee place. Let me make it up to you for invading your lunch time. I’ll tell you all about me, what do you say?”

You look at the clock on the wall, he knows you didn’t get to have anything because he decided to turn up and serenade you with unwanted attention, it’s two birds with one stone for him if you decide to accept — he wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t see a perfect moment to seize the chance. 

“Coffee sounds perfect,” you nod, with no pressure from him, and it lifts a great weight off his shoulders. “Would it be okay if I eat something too?”

Why are you so adorable? You don’t know that you own the power to get Leon to have your superiors let you go for the day, but he can’t get too excited right now. “Say the word and it becomes a dinner date.”

It gets you flustered again, you don’t know where to put your hands, and he’s so happy about it. “It’s a weekday… That’d be a bit exhausting…”

“Okay. Coffee date it is.”

He’s noticing you like the cheeky confidence, and it makes sense, considering the intensity had you intimidated. “Thank you,” you say. “I’d like that.”

“Believe me,” Leon can’t stop the grin from overtaking his expression. “My pleasure. You’re honestly too good for me.”

There’s the sudden urge to kiss you when vulnerability and shyness lights up your whole face, but he’ll take it slow. He has to take it slow. For himself. 

[hellodropbear]

Drawing.

mapi leon x ingrid engen x child

this is based off two requests so I hope you enjoy!

please keep sending requests I’m loving writing them :)

~~~~~~

Elena was with Camila when it happened, completely unaware of what was happening down on the training pitch. 

She had been drawing all day, a new hobby she had picked up, trying to copy Mapi as she sketched in her notepad. 

And as usual, Isabel wanted to be just like her Mami, so she had picked up a dropped pencil and started drawing on a receipt she found on the floor. 

Ingrid would have thought she had found the new Picasso, the way Mapi was cheering. 

"My baby is an artist!" It was the first time Isabel had drawn without being prompted. It was a circle on the receipt, with lots of lines in the middle, but Mapi couldn't have been prouder. 

Isabel lived off Mapi's pride so she told Camila she wanted to practice her drawing that day and they had done just that, sat in the same spot - shaded from the sun but still outside - and drawing since she had been dropped off. 

Isabel had just finished a drawing when it happened, although she had no idea, holding up the page and waving it in front of her babysitter to see. 

"It's me! And Mami and Ingrid!" She pointed at the yellow blob with four legs. "And this is the puppy I want! I asked santa for a puppy this year, Camila."

Camila smiled, staring at the page intently. 

"It's so good, Isabel! You're getting so good!"

She smiled proudly, trying to stop herself from grinning to much but entirely unable to shake off how good she felt from the praise. 

"Thank you, Camila." She replied quietly, swinging her legs beneath her on the seat. "Your drawing is good too!"

The blonde looked down at her own piece of paper, somehow the cat she had been drawing was worse than the toddler's sketch of her family. She laughed, shaking her head. 

"Not as good as yours though."

Isabel blushed awkwardly, not wanting to be rude but also not wanting to lie. 

"We are both good." She nodded, proud of her decision to say that. 

~~~~~~

Mapi had fallen harshly, hitting the ground with a deafening thud after landing awkwardly on her knee. 

The scream she released was almost chilling and the training field fell silent immediately, time stopping as the medics raced over to the groaning defender. 

It was the most pain she had ever been in, physically, and she had given birth to a full child not long ago. It was excruciating and she couldn't stop the tears in her eyes from slipping down her cheeks and onto the grass. 

She winced as they poked and prodded at her knee, quickly coming to the conclusion that she would not be walking off the pitch and getting out the stretcher to get her to the medical room. 

It was as she was being lifted that she saw both Ingrid and Alexia standing over her, worry etched deep into their features. Their worry made Mapi feel sick to her stomach, because it meant there was actually something wrong. 

It wasn't just in her head like she had been silently praying for. It was real. 

The prospect of missing out on another chunk of her career was almost sickening, and the thought of having to go through that intensive physiotherapy program after a knee injury was almost worse. 

But nobody had mentioned an acl yet, so she thought she was ok. 

Surely there aren't many other serious knee injuries that can take you out for so long, right?

Except Frido had a knee surgery not three months ago and she is far off her return. And there are so many other people who have had knee injuries that aren't acls - injuries that have forced them to retire. 

She banished the word from her mind as soon as it appeared. It wouldn't be that bad, surely?

But as much as she tried, the thought that it might be the end simply would not leave her brain, taunting her as she became more and more hysterical in the physio bed. 

It was only when she was loaded up into the ambulance that she began to question the whereabouts of her daughter, wondering why she hadn't been brought over as soon as Mapi had asked. 

The staff said they would sort it out, only one of them stepping into the ambulance with Mapi, the rest hanging back at the facility as the ambulance drove away, an inconsolable Mapi laying in the back. 

"It's just a knee, please, just go back and get Isabel!" 

They had shaken their heads, apologising and telling her that she would see the toddler soon. 

~~~~~~

She was confused when it was Alexia who accompanied Ingrid to come get her, because usually Mapi was the first person she saw when their training was over and they could go home. 

She was confused by the look on their faces, almost anxious, both looking sad. 

"Hey Is." Alexia ruffled her hair as she put her pencils down, observing the pictures in front of her. 

"Where's Mami? I want to show her my drawings!"

She brandished two of the pieces of paper towards the blonde, who smiled sadly and knelt down beside her goddaughter. 

"Mami fell over in training today." 

Isabel frowned. 

"Mami always falls over! It's so silly, Ale, she's always on the ground!" 

Her frown was quickly replaced by giggles, picturing her mother falling over all the time, something she would usually laugh about after the game. 

Alexia nodded, her smile diminishing. 

"It was a bad fall, Is, Mami had to go to the hospital."

The toddler's face switched again, back to her frown. The hospital is big and scary, where you go when you're really really sick or really really injured. 

People die in the hospital, when they're sick enough to be taken there. 

Her lip trembled. 

"Is Mami dying?" 

She started to whimper and Alexia was quick to draw her into a hug. 

"No! No, Mami is going to be ok, Isa, she just has a sore knee! She will be completely fine soon, she just wants to see you."

Isabel nodded, sniffling quietly. 

"Can we see Mami?"

She looked up at Ingrid behind Alexia, who nodded easily. 

"That's where we're going now, Is. We're going to see Mami."

Camila, who had been busily packing away their drawing tools, said a quick goodbye to the trio, smiling as Ingrid thanked her and walking out, waving goodbye to Isabel as she was hoisted onto Alexia's hip. 

The toddler was quiet as they drove across the city, her fingers tight around the pieces of paper that Camila had left on the table as she stared out the window until the car parked. 

Her spare hand was used to grip onto Ingrid's as they got out of the car, walking into the big and crowded building. They had to wait for a bit before they could see Mapi, so Isabel sat herself on Ingrid's lap, relishing in the comfort that the Norwegian's arms gave her as she held her close. 

Her hand remained tight in Ingrid's as they were finally allowed to go see Mapi, slowly trailing behind as Alexia opened the door. 

But Mapi only had eyes for her daughter, lighting up slightly as she spotted the curly brunette head tucked away behind Ingrid's leg. 

"Isabel, come here." She smiled as the little face popped out from behind the leg, looking around anxiously before stepping forward and hesitantly standing beside Mapi's bed. 

It was when she was lifted up to sit beside Mapi that she started crying, big and terrified sobs wracking her entire body. 

It was so scary for someone so little, seeing her mother so sad and weak in the hospital bed, her usually bright features dulled and her usually enthusiastic voice more sullen. 

The hospital was so big and the room was smelly. Mapi was sick and there was nothing Isabel could do about it.

So she cried into her mother's arms, scared about what was going to happen and scared about where she was. 

"It's ok, it's ok." Mapi tried to reassure her daughter. "I'll be ok, Is. it'll all be ok."

It was a few minutes before Isabel calmed down, wiping her eyes and taking a deep breath, holding out the little drawings she had chosen to bring. 

"You did more drawings?"

Mapi smiled excitedly, like a child on Christmas morning about to open all her presents. 

Isabel nodded, pointing at the first one. 

"Me and you, and Ingrid." She pointed at the yellow blob again. "My doggy."

The Spaniard shook her head, smiling and planting a kiss on the top of Isabel's head. 

"What about Bagheera?"

Isabel shrugged. 

"My doggy is more important."

Ingrid, on the other side of the room was taking deep and controlled breaths, much to Alexia's amusement. 

Maybe a month ago now, they had been on their daily walk in the park and Isabel had seen a little puppy, a baby golden retriever and had fallen in love. 

Thankfully, the owner was nice and allowed the toddler to pet her dog, but Ingrid had stood there with silent frustration on her face because unlike Mapi, she knew they were going to have to deal with a dog obsessed three year old for the foreseeable future. 

And she was right, because every day since, Isabel had asked over and over when she was going to get her puppy, even writing it in her note to santa as Ingrid had been her scribe, silently fuming at the inane request. 

But while the Norwegian had been reasonable and realistic, Mapi had been overly enthusiastic at the idea of a new puppy running around the apartment, clearly forgetting that they had an excited toddler and cat to deal with already.

They had taken the argument to training, Ingrid shooting daggers at her girlfriend as she complained about Ingrid stealing Isabel's childhood happiness by refusing the puppy, targeting the younger girls when she was asking who thought a golden retriever would be a good idea. 

The brunette didn't want Isabel to be sad, but she just didn’t think it was a good idea.

Mapi on the other hand thought a puppy would be the best possible addition to their family. 

"Your doggy is so important." The Spaniard pointedly smiled at Ingrid, who rolled her eyes and shook her head. 

~~~~~~

Isabel was happy in Mapi's lap as the doctors returned with the news. 

Mapi was even more happy to have her daughter to hold onto as she received the news that she absolutely did not want to hear. 

She allowed a single tear to slip from her eyes, before wiping them and smiling. 

Nobody has died, she realised. Everyone she loves is alright, everyone she loves is happy. 

Since the death of her best friend, Mapi has found that her reaction to bad news has become a lot more positive, learning to look on the bright side. 

There's always a silver lining to every cloud, no matter how dark. 

The dark cloud that came with Luis' death came with a blindingly bright silver lining - her baby daughter. 

This injury would no doubt come with one too, but she has to give it time to figure out exactly what that might be. 

Because everyone is ok. 

Everything will be ok. 

And when Isabel stood up beside her, bending down to wrap her arms around Mapi's neck, planting a kiss on her cheek and wiping away the singular stray tear, she realised that she had everything she possibly needed right there. 

Alexia could see that too. She knew Mapi would be ok which is why she felt it was alright for her to leave, to go home. 

Unlike last time she was in that bed, the centre back was happy. She had Isabel, she had Ingrid. She had what she needed and it was so clear how appreciative she was of her two girls. 

So Alexia placed a kiss on Mapi's head, gave Isabel a cuddle and Ingrid a hug and she drove back home, disappointed with the news but perfectly certain that her best friend would be alright. 

Mapi was allowed home that night, so long as she used her crutches until the surgery in two days. It meant not really moving except to go to the bathroom and to move between her bedroom and the lounge room but they would make do. 

Ingrid could live upstairs in the Spaniard's apartment for a bit to make sure Isabel was alright. To look after Mapi who wouldn't be able to look after herself. 

"Ok, Is. Mami has to be careful with her crutches now." Ingrid took the toddler's hand, using her spare hand to help Mapi up and onto the crutches. 

Isabel looked on wearily. It was weird, seeing that her Mami couldn't really walk. The toddler had always seen her mother as such a strong and brave woman, it was hard to see her so helpless. 

Her face remained downtrodden until Mapi used the end of one of her crutches to softly nudge the back of Isabel's head, smiling and winking when the toddler turned around in shock. 

"Mami!" She giggled softly, her spare hand coming up to cover her mouth to hide the laughs. 

"What? I didn't do anything!" 

She laughed more, shaking her head and leaning into Ingrid's leg. 

"Mami is so silly, Ingrid!" 

The Norwegian chuckled, agreeing with a nod. 

~~~~~~

It was only the second time that Isabel had slept over at Ingrid's place, the last time was when Mapi had driven all the way to Zaragoza overnight just to surprise her father on father's day.

She liked it though because there was no spare room which meant she could sleep in Ingrid's bed with Ingrid all night.

And after the scary day, she was in desperate need of some serious cuddles.

They had to wake up early in the morning for the surgery but Isabel had fallen asleep in the car journey there, only waking up in Ingrid's arms once they had entered the hospital.

Mapi was back in that hospital gown, her face void of piercings and the little beaded necklaces that they had made together a few months ago. She forced a weak smile on her face as Isabel looked at her, trying to reassure her daughter that she was ok, that everything would be ok soon.

The toddler wasn't convinced, burying her head in Ingrid's neck and mumbling incoherently about being scared.

She remained put in the Norwegian's arms as her mother was rolled into the operating room and as they waited for the doctor to bring them the good news once it was all done.

Even when Mapi was back in the regular hospital room, she clung onto Ingrid, worried that she would hurt her mother even more if she touched her.

But when she woke up, all Mapi wanted was to see her daughter, to see she was ok.

"My lion cub." She mumbled groggily, her eyes only half open but able to see where Isabel was sat, her eyes darting anxiously around the room. "Come here, Is. I missed you."

Dutifully, the child walked over to her bedside, hesitantly placing her hand in Mapi's outstretched one.

"Hello Mami." She frowned at her mother's pale complexion, quickly retracting her hand from her mother's cold one.

"Hey, hey. Come back, Is. I'm alright, see! Just a bit tired, that's all."

She looked up uncertainly, watching as Mapi shuffled over and patted the space beside her.

"Here, come on. I need my girl." She smiled down at Isabel, who bit her lip and slowly climbed up onto the bed.

"I love you Mami." She lay her head on Mapi's chest, her legs to the side of her. "I don't like that you're sick."

Mapi just smiled, chuckling lightly.

"I don't like that I'm sick either, Is. I love you too."

Isabel smiled easily, her worries squashed as Mapi drifted back to sleep.

Ingrid joined them quickly after Mapi fell asleep, sitting on the armchair on her other side and promptly falling asleep with her hand holding Mapi's arm, clearly exhausted from the stress of the day.

Isabel wasn't far behind, drifting off easily in the safety of Ingrid and Mapi.

It was what the Spaniard woke up to not long later, both of her girls right there with her, fast asleep but somehow still comforting her, still reassuring her that everything would be alright.

It was the first time she had been in a hospital bed but so sure that everything would be ok.

As long as she had her two girls, everything would be perfectly fine. 

She remained certain as she said goodbye to them later that evening, watching as Isabel held Ingrid's hand tightly as they walked out of the room and headed home. 

And Isabel was sure that everything would be alright later that night, warm in Ingrid's arms as they both wondered how Mapi was doing. 

~~~~~~

The next few days were a whirlwind of emotions for the whole family. 

Ingrid was hovering, so Mapi told her to go back to her apartment for the night. She regretted it of course, she missed the Norwegian as soon as the door closed behind her. 

Isabel didn't know what to do now that her routine had changed so much. 

There was no more going to training because she could just stay home with Mapi. 

Except her mother had just had a surgery and was exhausted, always sleeping and if she wasn't sleeping she was too tired to move, too tired to entertain Isabel, no matter how hard she tried. 

There were no more bedtime stories or bedtime cuddles. Mapi couldn't move enough to get off the sofa, let alone down onto the floor of Isabel's room where she used to kneel. 

Instead, the toddler got her cuddles on the sofa and Ingrid would tuck her in and read the story. 

But Ingrid's Spanish wasn't very good, and her voices weren't as funny as Mapi's. 

She struggled to sleep for the first few nights, feeling worried, feeling sad. 

Mapi struggled to sleep because she had been sleeping all day and when night fell she was suddenly overcome with an intense guilt that she couldn't care for herself or her child; that Isabel had to sit around all day just playing with the cat for entertainment. 

The toddler tried the bedroom first, expecting to see Mapi and Ingrid asleep in there like usual. Her lion was in her arms, ready to curl up between them and fall fast asleep, comforted by their warm bodies. 

But the bed was empty and made perfectly, so she continued down into the lounge room where she had said goodnight to Mapi a few hours earlier. 

She didn't expect for Mapi to still be lying on the sofa and she didn't expect her to be wide awake, staring straight ahead in the distance. 

"Mami." Isabel got her attention, the Spaniard's eyes immediately softening as they fell on her daughter.

"Hey Is. Come here.” She patted the sofa beside her, noticing the toddler's hesitancy. 

She nodded, smiling weakly and running over to jump up on the sofa, immediately snuggling into Mapi's side. 

"What are you doing awake, my lion cub?" 

She wrapped her arm around Isabel's small form, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. 

"Couldn't sleep, Mami." Her voice was quiet, muffled by the fabric of Mapi's shirt. 

"It's alright. You can sleep right here with me."

The child fell asleep quickly and Mapi wasn't far behind. 

It was how Ingrid found them the next morning, wrapped up in each others arms on the sofa.

Not wanting to disturb the peace, she quickly began cleaning up around the house, putting everything away before getting started on some breakfast. 

Isabel woke up first, the scent of pancakes cooking enough to rouse her, her eyes snapping over to the kitchen where Ingrid was stood, her back facing the toddler. 

"Ingrid!" She smiled softly, unwrapping her body from Mapi's arm and hopping off the sofa, walking over towards the Norwegian who spun around at the sound of the toddler’s voice.

"Morning Is. Sleep well?"

She shook her head, leaning into Ingrid's leg.

"Couldn't sleep, so Mami helped me."

The Norwegian frowned, using her spare hand to stroke Isabel's head. 

"That's nice of her. Do you want the first pancake?"

She nodded easily, grinning as the small pancake was handed to her and eating it quickly. 

"Should I wake up Mami for breakfast?"

Ingrid hesitated, softly shaking her head after a moments thought. 

"No, Mami is still tired. We can make her some pancakes when she wakes up and I'll let you decorate them with the fruits that she likes, alright?"

Isabel nodded sadly, resting her head on Ingrid's leg and palming the hem of her shorts. 

"When will Mami be better?"

"Soon, Is. She'll be better soon."

~~~~~~

Isabel was relatively quiet as she ate her pancakes, barely consuming half of them before she pushed the plate back to Ingrid who stood up and took it, placing a kiss on the crown of her head. 

She was worried about her, to be honest, and had half a mind to take her to training and get Camila to watch her. 

Mapi was a good mother, that was never a doubt, but Ingrid began to question whether it was good for Isabel to stay inside all day with her as she fell in and out of sleep, unable to get up from the sofa without help. 

But bringing up that issue to the Spaniard would send her down a long spiral of self doubt and upset, so she made the decision to leave it, instead deciding to just come back as soon as training was over and seeing what she could do. 

The problem was, as Mapi woke up and Ingrid tried to leave, Isabel seemed set on going with the Norwegian, her backpack full of colouring and some snacks she gathered from the cupboard, her shoes on and her bedroom tidy. 

"Is, you're staying here today, staying here with Mami." Ingrid knelt down, brushing the hair from her face. "And you'll be good for her and give her all the cuddles she needs until I get back in a few hours, alright?"

She shook her head, frowning. 

"I draw! With Camila!" 

Mapi sighed quietly from the sofa, intervening. 

"Camila's not there today because you can stay at home with me!" She mustered on a smile and Isabel looked up at her, nodding sadly. 

"Ingrid will be right back after training though, you're not stuck here with me for too long."

The Norwegian could practically hear Mapi's heart break, she was already thrown deep into the pool of self-consciousness and doubt. It was as if a single word could change her whole perspective and Ingrid had seen the clear flip over and over again. 

And the self-doubts that Mapi carried would never be understood or accepted by Ingrid, who spent every day trying to subtly prove to her that she was a good mother, that Isabel loved her. 

This incident wouldn't support all the progress she's made. 

"Is, go give Mami a hug alright? I'll be back soon." Ingrid smoothed out the toddler's hair, nudging her softly towards the sofa and watching as the child jumped on and lay down, resting her head on Mapi's shirt. 

The Spaniard's arm snaked back around the child, her spare hand waving at Ingrid as she walked out the door, her attention turning back to her daughter on her lap as soon as the door was closed. 

"I'm sorry I'm not very fun at the moment, Is. And I'm sorry that we can't go to training like usual, I know how much you like your days with Camila."

Isabel nodded, shrugging. 

"It's ok, Mami, you didn't fall over on purpose." She leant further into her mother's arm. "You don't have to be sad though, I don't like when you're sad."

"I don't like being sad either! But it's ok because when you're around, I'm always happy." She smiled softly. "You make me so happy, my lion cub."

"You make me happy too, Mami. Even when you can't play with me!" 

She giggled and Mapi knew exactly where she was going. 

"But when I get my doggy you won't have to play with me because I can play with her. Or him. I can play with my doggy."

The Spaniard smiled, running her hands through her daughter's hair and humming quietly. 

"You still have to convince Ingrid on that one."

Isabel huffed in a way that was entirely too serious for a 3 year old. 

"I don't know why... why doesn't Ingrid want a doggy?"

"She thinks you're enough work as it is, my lion."

She looked up, completely outraged. 

"I'm not work! I am a good girl, even Ingrid told me that!"

Mapi just laughed, adjusting her position on the sofa. 

"How about you run and grab your pens and paper and I can show you how to do some drawings today?"

The toddler's face switched from outrage to excitement in a split second as she bounced down from the sofa, running to her room and grabbing her supplies. 

She was used to drawing with Camila who tried her best, but was not very good at all. Getting to draw with her Mami, who was the best drawer that Isabel had ever seen was a novelty and the way she practically bounced back to the sofa emphasised just how excited she was. 

It was how Ingrid found them when she got home, Isabel wedged in an entirely uncomfortable position on Mapi's lap but it didn't look like she could care less - she was completely enthralled by Mapi's drawing of a puppy on the paper, her own pen and paper long discarded on the sofa beside her. 

Isabel's eyes lit up as the door opened, immediately beckoning Ingrid over, completely disregarding her post-training exhaustion and discomfort. 

"Ingrid! Look at Mami's drawing! It's a doggy."

The Norwegian shook her head, walking over to the duo on the sofa and sitting down beside them.

"It's a good puppy, isn't it!"

She nodded, looking over at Mapi with a glint in her eyes.

"I was thinking on the way home." She paused, her eyes flicking between the mother and daughter, each of them wearing equal expressions of suspense and interest.

"I think that you've been so good, Is, since Mami got hurt."

Mapi started to understand where this was going, a smile growing on her face while Isabel remained completely in suspense.

"I think that you've shown to us that you're responsible and I think you've shown us that you deserve a dog too."

The child's face lit up immediately and she almost knocked Mapi over with the speed she threw herself out of her position and right into Ingrid.

"I'm getting a doggy!"

~~~~~~

It was the three month anniversary of Mapi injuring her knee.

Christmas had come and gone, and Isabel had tried desperately hard to hide her disappointment when a puppy hadn't shown up in her stocking.

They had wanted to give it to her then, but couldn't justify taking it to Zaragoza for Christmas, nor could they justify buying a puppy right before their trip to Norway for new years.

Ingrid also hadn't wanted to buy a puppy when Mapi was still on crutches, still not entirely able to look after her child alone, let alone a new dog as well. Ingrid was mostly around, but the away trips would be almost impossible with a dog and a toddler if Mapi still could not walk.

So Isabel had been surprised and excited by her other gifts, things that had been used to death already. The thought of a dog never really left her brain, but she managed to push it to the side as she opened her Christmas presents and ate the Christmas food that her Grandmother had provided.

But now it was March. It was finally getting warmer and Mapi was finally returning to the pitch for training.

Off the pitch, she was completely recovered, back to kneeling by Isabel's bed every night for bedtime stories and cuddles, back to running around with the toddler on their (almost) daily walks to the park.

Ingrid had dressed her this morning, making sure her favourite dog shirt was clean the night before, sliding it over her head with a pair of jeans and sneakers, pulling her crazy morning hair back into braids.

The toddler had pointed down at the dog on her shirt, babbling in an incoherent mix of Spanish and Norwegian about how much she loved dogs.

Ingrid could only smother down her grin, thinking about the hidden stash of dog toys and supplies they had been building over the past couple of months - shoved into the ensuite of the master bedroom.

Not a week after she had agreed to buying a dog, Ingrid had signed her name on an obscure package addressed to Mapi, watching on with amusement as the Spaniard opened it up and admired the leash and dog bed that had arrived.

She was bored, apparently, sat at home alone and unable to participate in the walks that Ingrid was taking Isabel on. The boredom materialised as online shopping and she had guiltily admitted to Ingrid that she was expecting a whole lot of packages in the next few weeks.

They had kept an eye out for ads advertising golden retriever puppies, almost giving up when it seemed impossible to find one anywhere.

But three weeks ago, Mapi's mother had seen an ad up in her hometown and immediately sent it off to the couple and the next day, they had confirmed their purchase of a brand new golden retriever.

The Spaniard collected it from Zaragoza alone, under the guise of visiting home to clean out her old bedroom - an excursion that she was sure Isabel would have zero interest in attending.

The dog had been left with Alexia over night and they were surprising the toddler that day in the park.

And the little girl had absolutely no idea what would be awaiting her at the end of her walk.

~~~~~~

Isabel swung her arms happily between Mapi and Ingrid, a grin on her face as she chattered excitedly to Mapi about what she and Ingrid had gotten up to yesterday, explaining her experience of drinking a hot chocolate in such depth that Mapi wondered how long she had been concocting this story.

They stopped in at a small café for lunch on the way, trying to stall their walk so Alexia would be there before them and also so they wouldn't have to try feed her when she was inevitably excited about her brand new puppy that she had been thinking about for months.

But the anticipation was worth it as soon as she saw her godmother holding a lead that was attached to a little golden puppy, running around excitedly with it's ball.

The expression on Isabel's face was worth more than anything they had ever brought, her entire face lifting up, a smile that showed off her complete set of teeth as she spun around to look at her mother and Ingrid.

"Mami, Ingrid, is that-" It was like she didn't want to tempt fate by asking the question, just in case the dog wasn't hers.

She didn't think they would have done that to her, not in the slightest.

"Ale has your new puppy, Is. You can go say hello."

But the child didn't run to the puppy immediately as the couple had expected, instead charging into her mother first, wrapping her arms around the Spaniard and thanking her over and over again, moving to do the same to Ingrid not long after.

"Of you go, Is, go meet your puppy!" Ingrid grinned as she nudged her away, watching on with joy as the toddler practically sprinted down to the puppy who immediately jumped up onto her, covering her face with wet kisses.

"I think we made the right decision." Mapi looked at Ingrid hesitantly, aware that this still wasn't ideal for the Norwegian.

But the expression on the brunettes face said something completely different, a huge smile stuck on her face as she watched Isabel squeal with delight at her new dog, the happiest she had ever seen her.

"No, Maria, this was the right decision. Definitely."

Mapi beamed, leaning into her girlfriend's side and wrapping her arm around Ingrid's waist.

"She's so happy."

Alexia approached them not long after, her hand still holding onto the leash.

"I believe this is yours now." She smiled, holding it out to Mapi. "I can't believe anyone tried to deny her of this."

Mapi rolled her eyes, grabbing the leash, completely sick and tired of Alexia's argument about how dogs are so much better than cats.

"Is loves Bagheera too, she's just a dog person."

Alexia chuckled, shaking her head.

"No goddaughter of mine will ever be a cat person."

They continued to watch Isabel with the puppy right until she walked back over to her three adults, the dog following dutifully behind her.

"Mami, I want to call her Baloo, Bagheera's friend! Can I call her Baloo?"

Mapi smiled easily, using her spare hand to stroke her daughter's head.

"Of course you can call her Baloo, I love it."

~~~~~~

alright hope you enjoyed!

(I may or may not have given up on editing this after five minutes so it’ll probably be edited in the morning)

let me know what you think and let me know what else you want to see

have a good day!!

[slamsuckingslut]

can i request a willne x fem!reader where theyre fwb but they both end up catching feelings so they stop being fwb but now theyre jealous when the other person is with anyone else?

if not, thats totally okay!⭐️

thanks so much!🩵

OF COURSEEEE i love this goofy guy and his stupid little mullet smsm ♥️♥️

A/N; I didn't really add many speaking parts cause i haven't ever written for Will before and i gotta speed run watch more of his videos later and i might come back and edit this. Pls us ur imagination on what you think he would say during parts. Also, it's more like Will silently hating the dudes y/n goes out with and y/n being like "he alone.. i could fix that." Then blah blah blah READ THE STORY.

NSFW AT THE END OF THE STORY, I MARKED WHERE IT STARTS SO ANYONE WHO DOESN'T WANT THAT PART CAN SKIP IT !!

WillNE x fem!Reader

Y/n used; no real description of how they look besides being a woman, use ur imagination.

Being friends with benefits with Will is like being friends with him.. Just with sex included.

The mutual agreement to not catch feelings was followed by the both of them.

Kind of.

If it wasn't for his pretty smile or sweet laugh, or y/ns usual sweet attitude towards him or her (e/c) eyes that stared so tenderly at Will whenever they were together.

Maybe if they both were more careful about how they thought about the other, they could've worked it out. Instead. They're just friends again now. Really. Really awkward and jealous friends.

Months of sleeping with eachother like lovers then acting like friends again the next day turned into months of jealousy and awkwardness, and avoidance. Will hated the guys y/n saw, y/n hated when she saw or heard about Will trying to go on dates again. Months of jealousy mixed with want.

But Will is too prideful to admit he's jealous when he hears you're going on a date with a guy, feeling his gut tighten in an uncomfortable knot. And y/n is too awkward to try to speak to Will about how she feels about him, her heart twisting when she notices Will's attempts to go on dates like how he used to before the benefits.

Mutual agreement to not catch feelings turned into mutual want. Or maybe just dislike. Yeah, Will must not like y/n anymore if he keeps avoiding her, right? She can just move on and actually be happy with one of the random guys she goes on a date with.

Nope.

Here they are. Y/n finally tracked down Will and managed to get him to stay for a few minutes.

"Will.. we have to talk."

Y/ns voice was so soft, it gave Will heart palpitations, made his hands sweaty and his face feel hot. He looks at her, he shouldn't like her, she doesn't like him right? It was just a sex thing, then they broke it off. She sees other guys, Will just.. sits and hates them all, knowing he could be better than they could be.

"Alright. Well what is it then?"

Wills voice couldn't help but have an annoyed tone. You have to cover the sound of being in love with something, right?

Y/n stares at him, not really knowing what to say, not having thought out what would be good to say. She thought. Staring. Before blurting out,,

"I want you, Will."

She immediately blushed, looking almost afraid of what Will would say. First they lost having amazing sex together, now what if she loses him as a friend too because she said something dumb like that? No, that wouldn't work.

He stares at her for a second, a cocky but sweet smile slowly forming on his face as he nods.

"You're lucky you're bloody gorgeous, Y/n, or I wouldve been able to move on by now."

He says as he stares at her, carefully putting his hands on her hips. A familiar feeling to y/n that makes her stomach do flips.

She smiles, excitedly almost, as she puts her hands against his chest, leaning into him.

"So.. friends with benefits again or?"

Y/n asks, almost testing if Will wanted more. Or just the sex again. Silently hoping he'd wanted more, but deciding she'd settle for the benefits again if he didn't love her back the same way she loved him.

He stared at her, shaking his head. His arms snaked around her waist, his face close to hers as they stare at eachother, each having their own slight blush.

"More. I hated seeing you with all those other guys.. they seemed like real morons."

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

He mumbled as he kissed her, holding her close, practically desperately like he didn't want to share her or let her go again. Y/n happily returned the kiss, her arms slinking around his shoulders as she leans against him.

"My place or your place Lovely? I'll take you to dinner after, like a true boyfriend."

He said softly as he pulled away, his eyes crinkling as he grins widely at her as she nods and smiles back kissing his cheek before pulling away and grabbing his hand.

"Yours, and I'm not one to say no to a free dinner."

He nodded and gently held her hand in his, leading her as they walked.

(magic teleport to Wills place, smut beyond this point so be warned if u dont want that.)

SMUT BEYOND HERE

^

^

They barely made it into the door before they were all over eachother. Wills hands groping and grabbing at her as he kisses her hungrily, her hands feeling up his chest as she holds his shoulders and pulls him close.

They slowly make their way to Wills room, discarding their clothes piece by piece on the way there, not caring about the mess.

Will put his hands on the backs of her thighs, picking her up and gently setting her on the bed before crawling on top of her.

He unclipped and removed her bra as he kissed along her neck and collarbone, letting out a little groan as he hears her soft shaky breaths and her hands sliding into his hair and holding it gently.

He kissed his way down to her chest, leaving dark hickeys before kissing down her stomach as his hands slid down to her hips. His fingers carefully hooked and pulled down her underwear, discarding it onto the floor with her bra.

He carefully cupped her pussy in his hand, teasingly dipping two of his fingers into her, eliciting a soft moan from her. He carefully slid his fingers in, gently moving them in and out, spreading and curling them.

She let out little soft moans as his fingers worked her already soaked pussy, her hands gently gripping and combing through his hair. He pressed a kiss to her lips, slowly turning into a messy makeout as he fingered her.

She pulled away from the kiss after a moment, staring at him with half lidded eyes and a look of pleasure on her face as he continued to gently move his fingers.

"I want you, Will."

"I want you too y/n, more than you know."

He then pulled his fingers out, wiping them off on his boxers, which had a very prominent tent in them. He then slid them down, his cock springing free from his boxers. He discarded them to the floor with the rest of the underwear, giving his cock a few strokes before gently grabbing her thighs.

He hooked her legs around his hips, leaning towards his nightstand and opening the drawer, pulling out a condom. He slipped it on before continuing, carefully lining himself up as he kissed her softly.

"god I want you, Lovely. You're mine now, alright?"

"mhm, of course."

He carefully slid himself in, his forehead against hers as they each let out a moan. Her legs tightened around his hips as her arms wrapped around his shoulders. He had one arm supporting him on his elbow beside his head, the other holding her hip as he began gently thrusting into her.

Sweet soft words of love and mutual appreciation were spoken, gentle moans and groans of pleasure, and of course messy kisses as Will thrusted into her gently.

Slowly, they eached worked their way to their climaxes, y/ns happening before Will's, he made sure of that.

He continued to thrust into her even after she finished, whispering soft "almost done lovely"s and "it's okay, you're doing good"s as he slowly reached his peak, stilling inside her as he panted softly and kissed her cheek, his arms wrapping around her waist.

After a few minutes of them cooling down from their releases, he carefully pulled out, discarding the used condom into the trash bin by his nightstand as he cuddled her close.

She smiled softly and cuddled up to him, not really caring they're still naked. She held him close, running her hands through his hair as he gently rubbed her back and waist.

"Wanna rain check that dinner, Lovely?"

"Mhm, yeah. Tomorrow sounds better."

A/N; sorry if its short or messy or too fast, i havent written fanfic in about 3 years 😭 gave it a happy ending cause leaving them to be eternally jealous at the other seemed too peculiar, so boom, they date.

A/N #2; added the smut, sorry if it sucked I haven't written smut in even longer, maybe 4-5 years, hope u freaks enjoy 🙏 (its actually very sweet i think, not freaky at all)

[bradshawsbaby]

What Christmas Means to Me, My Love

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Wife!Reader

Summary: You're determined to make your first married Christmas the best one yet. But when you start to overextend yourself, Bob steps in to remind you what's most important.

Word Count: 10.6k

Author's Note: Whew! The relief I feel that I was able to get this story completed before Christmas Eve! This is my contribution to @lewmagoo's A Lew Magoo Christmas challenge! It was inspired by the Stevie Wonder song, "What Christmas Means To Me." I hope you all enjoy!

(Special shoutout and thanks to @luminousnotmatter and @ryebecca for listening to me ramble when I was having a total meltdown about writing this story. I'm very thankful for you both!)

Warnings: References to being stressed during the holidays and a few brief innuendos, but it's mostly just fluff, fluff, and more fluff!

From the time he was a young boy, Bob Floyd had been cognizant of one very fascinating phenomenon—his bed never felt so comfortable or so warm as when his alarm clock was blaring in his ear, giving him a rather forceful reminder that it was time to get up and start the day. After he met you, that troubling phenomenon seemed to increase tenfold. As responsible as he was and as much as he prided himself on getting to work early each day, Bob would be lying if he said there weren’t times when he felt like chucking his alarm clock across the room and playing sick just so he could stay tucked away in bed all day, cocooned under the blankets and wrapped around your sweet warmth.

This morning, as his alarm started roaring at 7:00 on the dot, Bob let out a small grunt of protest, blindly reaching out from beneath the comforter to pound a resentful fist on the top of his alarm clock. Once it was silent, he rolled over in the bed the two of you had been sharing as husband and wife for nearly six months now and reached an arm out, fully expecting to wrap it around your soft, pajama-clad body. When he was met with emptiness instead, Bob blinked his eyes open in confusion and sat up slowly, rubbing the last vestiges of sleep from his vision as he grabbed his glasses off the nightstand and slipped them onto his nose, albeit a bit crookedly.

“Sweetheart?” Bob called out, frowning when he was met with nothing but the early morning stillness of your quaint little home.

Immediately, he flung the covers back and climbed out of bed, padding towards the bathroom to see if maybe you were in the shower and couldn’t hear him calling you over the sound of the running water. That theory was quickly disproven, however, when he found the bathroom door hanging open, lights off and no sounds of a shower in progress. But as he flicked on the lights, Bob discovered that you must have been in there not too long ago, for the mirror above the sink was still beaded with condensation and the bathmat had the imprint of damp footprints.

“Honey?” Bob called again, thinking maybe you’d stepped outside to enjoy your morning coffee on the front porch. Although why you’d be up this early—and showered already, too—on one of your days off from work was beyond him.

Walking into the kitchen, Bob immediately spotted a piece of festive note paper resting on the countertop. He recognized it instantly, the cream colored paper outlined with a ring of cheerful poinsettias. You’d been ecstatic when you’d found it at the dollar store a few weeks ago—"You never know when something like this will come in handy during the holidays, honey," were your exact words. But what stood out even more was your delicate handwriting etched across the paper in dark ink. Picking up the note, Bob adjusted his glasses and read the message you’d quickly penned on your way out the door.

Good morning, honey! I decided to head out early to try to hit some of the stores before they get too crazy. There’s a lot that I still need to pick up, so I’ll probably be gone most of the day. Also, Lorraine and I are going to run over to check out the venue for our staff holiday party and finalize the menu. Speaking of which, I also need to finalize the menu for OUR party, plus Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. Text me if there’s anything you want me to get! Hopefully I won’t be home too late. I love you!!!

P.S. I almost forgot—I packed some lunch for you and left it in the fridge! And there’s a pot of coffee ready to brew. Have a great day!!!

He sighed softly as he set your note back down on the counter, running a hand through his honey brown hair, a tender smile tugging at the corners of his lips even as he silently lamented your early departure. He could hear your voice in his head as he read your words, chuckling to himself as he pictured you quickly gulping down a cup of coffee—in your favorite Christmas mug, no doubt—and shoving a piece of half-burnt toast in your mouth before running out the door.

You absolutely lived for this time of year, and all the hecticness that the season entailed.

Bob had known, almost from the very start of your relationship, how much you adored Christmas. It was one of the things, in fact, that had made it so easy for him to fall in love with you. Seeing the way you lit up like a firefly when a Christmas song came on the radio or when your favorite coffee shop started offering peppermint-flavored drinks made Bob’s heart melt in absolute love and devotion. He had never known anyone as whimsical or as full of genuine Christmas spirit as you. And your joy was infectious—Bob had never loved the holiday season so much as he did once he started celebrating it with you.

Waiting for his coffee to finish brewing, Bob couldn’t help but grin as he glanced around the kitchen at all the decorations you’d been putting up since Thanksgiving. They gave your home a warm, cozy feeling that had nothing to do with aesthetics and everything to do with the loving care with which you’d hung them.

To Bob, every day was Christmas so long as he got to spend it with you.

Which was why he sighed again as he poured a splash of cream into his coffee mug, brows furrowing above his glasses as he considered how little he’d seen you these past couple weeks.

With both of you working full-time jobs, it made sense that you couldn’t possibly spend every waking moment together. But Bob looked forward more than anything to your routine of dinner in the early evening and then hours spent lounging in each other’s arms, talking about your days or listening to music or watching a movie together. It was a habit you had gotten into even before you were married, and it was made all the sweeter by the fact that your lives were now entwined so intrinsically.

These past few weeks, however, that routine had been seriously upended by all the hustle and bustle of the holidays. Bob knew you took this time of year seriously—and he really did love how happy it made you—but it seemed like this year more than ever, your schedule was jam-packed and filled nearly to bursting.

On top of the usual shopping that needed to get done—you bought gifts for everyone, even down to your mail carrier and the barista who made your favorite coffee—there were preparations for not one, not two, but three separate parties you had volunteered to host. First up was your staff holiday party. Your colleagues knew that no one loved Christmas more than you, and so they had unanimously nominated you to spearhead the planning, which you’d graciously agreed to, with some help from your co-worker, Lorraine. Then was the party for the Daggers and their families that you had convinced Bob it would be fun to host a few days before Christmas Eve. All of your friends couldn’t stop buzzing about it, and you were going to great lengths to make sure it was perfect. As if all that wasn’t enough, you were also going to be hosting both of your families for the holidays this year, parents, siblings, nieces, nephews, and all.

“It’s our first Christmas as Mr. and Mrs. Floyd,” you’d told him one night, when he’d asked if you were really okay with all of the planning that would be involved. “I want it to be special.” Your smile when you said it warmed him from the inside out. As introverted as he could be, he’d gladly host twenty parties so long as it made you happy.

The reality, however, was that you were swamped. Every day after work, you were either running around to stores or scouring the internet for the best cyber deals or researching recipes that you wanted to try for Christmas dinner. One night, Bob had even found you making an alphabetized list of holiday games you could play at the parties.

“Are you sure you’re really okay?” Bob asked at one point, when he caught you yawning over your dinner. “I know I’ve been busy with work, but I can help more. Just tell me what you need.”

“I’m fine, silly,” you giggled, waving off his concern with a hand. “I just want everyone to have a good time.”

“They will,” he told you, resting his large, calloused hand over yours. He looked intently into your eyes, sincerity shining in the blue depths of his. “They’ll have a good time no matter what. You don’t have to make yourself sick over planning.”

You had just smiled at him and given him a kiss, but clearly you hadn’t heeded his words because now you were even using your day off to run errands, waking up even earlier than your naval aviator husband to do so.

Rinsing his empty mug out in the sink, Bob frowned as he thought of how tired you’d seemed these past few days. Your joy and your sweetness never diminished, but he could tell just from looking in your eyes how exhausted you were getting. You were overextending yourself, and he was terrified you were going to burn out before Christmas even arrived. Not being able to fully enjoy your favorite time of year would devastate you, and nothing would hurt Bob more than that.

You needed to take a day for yourself, Bob decided as he let the warm water flow over him in a quick shower. No shopping, no planning, no organizing—just a day where you actually got to enjoy all your favorite things about this season.

That idea remained buzzing around in his head as he drove to work, hanging on the periphery of his consciousness even as he spent hours flying test runs with Phoenix and the rest of the Daggers. On his lunch break, he enthusiastically hunkered down in the rec room to research some of the plans that were percolating in his mind. And by the time he drove home that evening, he was wearing a smile bright enough to rival any of the Christmas lights twinkling in your neighborhood.

The fact that you still weren’t home when Bob unlocked the front door and carefully placed his work boots on the shoe rack only further solidified his plan. As if you could somehow read his mind, his phone buzzed suddenly with an incoming text.

Are you home? I’m so sorry I’m not back yet! I’m on my way now. I picked up some dinner from that BBQ place that you like 😋

Bob’s heart squeezed with affection as he read your words. You’d been up for nearly twelve hours at this point, and you were no doubt exhausted, but you were still always putting others ahead of yourself. He typed out a quick response as he walked into the living room to turn on the lights on the Christmas tree.

Yum! Thank you, sweetheart. Can’t wait for you to get home ♥️

About twenty minutes later, just as Bob was stepping out of your bedroom after changing into a pair of sweatpants and an old T-shirt from his time at the Naval Academy, he heard your key jiggling in the lock and hurried to meet you.

“Oh!” you gasped in surprise when your husband swung open the door before you could finish turning your key. “Hiya, honey,” you beamed, holding up the bag of take-out food you’d picked up especially for him on your drive home.

“Man, I tell you, these delivery people keep getting cuter and cuter,” Bob teased, drawing you close and taking the food out of your hands as he dropped a kiss on your lips.

“Mmm,” you giggled against his mouth, kissing him back as you felt some of the tension you’d been carrying in your shoulders slowly dissipate. “Maybe this delivery girl can join you for dinner tonight,” you winked playfully, smiling when you felt Bob’s fingers lace through yours.

“I was counting on it,” he chuckled, tugging on your hand as he turned into the house.

“Oh, just give me a couple minutes, honey,” you exclaimed, suddenly remembering you’d left your car idling in the driveway, the backseat and trunk filled to the brim with your purchases of the day. “I just want to get everything out of the car.”

“Sweetheart, it can wait,” Bob insisted, glancing longingly between you and his dinner. “Your food’s going to get cold. I’ll help you unload the car after we eat.”

You bit your lip in hesitation, but finally relented when you saw the puppy dog expression on your husband’s face. “Okay, fine, let me just go turn the car off.”

A few minutes later, you and Bob were seated side by side at your small kitchen table, your legs pressing together and your fingers brushing against one another as you nibbled on wings and scarfed down some chili mac and cheese.

“How was your day?” you asked curiously, glancing up as you took a sip of water and wiped your fingers on a napkin.

You always asked that question so sincerely, even after all this time. It made him feel so seen and loved. Smiling, he rested his hand over yours and squeezed your fingers gently.

“It was good,” he said lightly, not yet ready to divulge the plans he’d been formulating all day. “You know, same old, same old. How about yours?”

“It was great!” you chirped, beaming brightly.

Bob smiled and nodded as you told him about the gifts you’d picked up for all the nieces and nephews, the menu you and Lorraine had decided on for your staff holiday party, the grab bags gifts you’d snagged for the Dagger party, the new gingerbread recipe you’d just heard about, and a whole host of other things.

“Sorry, I’m rambling,” you murmured sheepishly after you realized you’d hardly stopped for a moment to take a breath.

“It’s okay, I love it when you ramble,” Bob grinned, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Mmm, I love it even more when you taste like barbeque,” he laughed, nudging your nose with his own.

Laughing, you wrapped your arms around his strong shoulders and kissed him tenderly. Pulling back, you rested your forehead against his with a contented sigh and gazed into his eyes. “Want to go find a movie to watch while I do the dishes?” you suggested.

Bob pulled back slightly to more fully look at you, though he kept his large hands wrapped loosely around your waist. “As much as I love the sound of that plan, I think we should call it an early night tonight, honey,” he said softly, reaching up to lightly brush your cheek with the pad of his thumb. “You look exhausted.”

You pouted slightly, but couldn’t stifle the yawn that suddenly came upon you, which made the both of you laugh. “I guess you’re right,” you admitted ruefully, resting your head on his shoulder for a moment.

“How about you get started on the dishes and I’ll unload everything from the car? Then we’ll head to bed, alright?” Bob asked, hyper aware of the drawn look around your eyes.

“Deal,” you nodded, giving him one more kiss as you jumped up to clear the table.

Thirty minutes later, the two of you were cuddled up under the covers, the warm glow from the little battery-operated lantern you kept near the window casting a cozy feel over the room.

“Do you have any plans for Saturday?” Bob asked softly, running his fingers up and down your arm gently as you lay in his embrace. Saturday was the one day that the both of you had off, and he intended to make the most of it this weekend.

You let out a soft sigh, snuggling up further against his chest. “There are a few new recipes I wanted to try for dinner on Christmas Eve and Christmas, so I figured maybe I should test them out ahead of time, just in case they end up being a disaster. Saturday seems as good a day as any to do that. Want to be my taste tester?” you grinned, eyes crinkling as you smiled over at him.

“Uh-uh,” Bob shook his head, a slightly mischievous smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Your eyes widened in surprise as you looked at him. “Why not? You’ve got other plans?”

“Mhm,” he nodded, his blue eyes twinkling, which you could see even in the dark of your bedroom. “I’m going to have a very full day.”

“Doing what?” you huffed jokingly, arching an eyebrow as you rolled onto your side, gazing at him curiously.

“You’ll find out,” Bob grinned, not letting the cat out of the bag just yet. “You’re coming with me.”

“What?” you asked, clearly taken aback as your eyes widened once again. “What do you mean?”

“You’ll see,” he chuckled, leaning over to give you a quick kiss.

“Bob!” you exclaimed, nudging him lightly with your foot.

“Good night, sweetheart,” he grinned, rolling over and closing his eyes. He had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing as he heard you huffing softly beside him, clearly desperate to know what he was planning. Within minutes, however, he heard the sound of your breathing soften and deepen, your eyes closing in a deep slumber.

Turning back over, Bob watched you sleep peacefully and felt his heart clench inside his chest. You were going above and beyond this Christmas, and it was clearly taking its toll, whether you wanted to admit it or not. He was glad to see you sleeping so comfortably after such a long day.

You were striving so hard to make this Christmas magical for everyone else. This weekend, Bob was going to make it magical for you and remind you what this season was really all about.

Nobody deserved it more than you.

Saturday morning dawned bright and crisp, just as Bob had been anticipating. He’d been checking the forecast every day to make sure that nothing was going to interfere with his plans for today. The weather was better than he could have hoped for—the sun was shining bright, hardly a cloud in the sky, but the air had a nice winter chill as the temperature hovered somewhere between the high fifties and low sixties.

That was one of the only things you ever lamented about moving to San Diego—it was harder to make it feel like Christmas when it was still warm enough to wear shorts and go to the beach. But today’s weather, while certainly not cold by any stretch of the imagination, would at least give you an opportunity to wear one of those new sweaters you’d bought for yourself.

Grinning like a little kid on Christmas morning, Bob quietly tiptoed into your bedroom, where he was delighted to see that you were still fast asleep, buried so deeply under the covers that only the top of your head was poking out. Swallowing back a laugh, he sidled over to your side of the bed and carefully placed the treats he’d set out early to procure on your nightstand.

“Sweetheart,” he murmured softly, gingerly taking a seat on the edge of the bed to avoid crushing you. You stirred slightly, but didn’t open your eyes, so he bent down to drop a kiss on the crown of your head, still the only part of your body exposed to the mid-morning light. “Honey, wake up,” he tried again, his voice scarcely above a whisper.

Letting out a soft hum in response, you slowly pushed the covers back and ran a hand down your face before opening your eyes halfway, peeking up at your husband through hooded lids.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Bob chuckled, ducking his head to peck your lips tenderly.

“Mmm, good morning,” you replied, your voice still heavy with sleep as you stretched with a satisfied little groan. You were so distracted by the extremely pleasant view of your handsome husband hovering above you that it took you a moment to realize how much light was filtering in through the windows, and to catch a glimpse of the time on your alarm clock. Gasping, you bolted upright, looking at Bob with wide eyes. “Is that really the time? I thought I set an alarm!”

It was nearly 9:45am. You couldn’t remember the last time you had slept in that late. Between work and all the other things you were usually running around doing, even on your days off, your internal alarm hardly ever let you sleep that long. Not to mention the fact that you normally had an alarm set. You could have sworn you had set it last night.

Bob had the grace to look a bit sheepish as he rubbed the back of his neck, gazing at you with those big blue eyes behind the frames of his adorably gawky glasses. “You did,” he began slowly, glancing guiltily at your alarm clock and then back at you. “I shut it off.”

“Bob!” you exclaimed in astonishment, uncertain what would have possessed him to do that, especially when he knew how busy you were lately. “Why would you do that?”

“You needed the extra sleep, honey,” he said in a voice so sweet and filled with concern that you couldn’t even dream of staying mad at him. Reaching out, he took one of your hands between both of his, gently rolling the pad of his thumb over your knuckles. “You’ve been running yourself ragged these past couple weeks. I wanted you to get some real rest.”

You bit your lip, averting your gaze as you silently thought about how busy you’d been lately and how exhausted you’d been feeling. You’d had three cups of coffee at work yesterday just to make it through the day.

“I guess you’re right,” you conceded, your lips curving upward in a rueful smile. “I do feel a little bit better already. Thank you, honey,” you told him, leaning forward to give him a kiss of appreciation. That was when your eyes landed on the cup of coffee and the small red-and-white striped bag on your nightstand. “Is that for me?” you gasped in delight, looking back at your husband eagerly.

“Mhm,” Bob chuckled at your open excitement, reaching for the cup and the bag and placing them in your hands.

Your very favorite coffee shop in all of San Diego, which also happened to be the spot where you and Bob went on your second date, was a tiny little hole-in-the-wall place not far from where you worked. From the outside, it didn’t seem like much to behold, but it was one of the city’s best kept secrets. Their coffee was brewed to perfection and their baked goods were a sweettooth’s dream. But what you loved most of all was the way they went all out for the holidays. The entire cafe was decked out in garland and bows and twinkling lights, Christmas music pumped through the speakers all day long, and their menu reflected everyone’s seasonal favorites.

At this time of year, your go-to order was a large peppermint mocha with extra whipped cream and a gingerbread scone that you swore you wanted to be your last meal on this earth. Bob had gotten to the cafe just in time that morning to get a scone fresh out of the oven.

“Oh my gosh, it’s still warm,” you sighed happily, the spiced molasses melting on your tongue as soon as you popped it into your mouth. You closed your eyes in bliss, washing it down with a sip of the peppermint mocha. “Thank you, honey. This is such a sweet surprise.”

“The first of many, I hope,” Bob smiled, resting a hand on your thigh as you enjoyed your breakfast in bed. “I have lots planned for you today, Mrs. Floyd.”

“You do?” you asked, raising an eyebrow over the rim of your coffee cup.

He nodded, his smile only growing wider. “Don’t you remember what I said the other night? We’ve got a lot to do today. So as soon as you’re done enjoying your breakfast, you better hop in the shower. We don’t want to be late,” he told you, his gorgeous baby blues sparkling as he rose from the bed and started towards the door.

“Wait!” you cried,  jumping out of bed with your coffee and scone still firmly in hand. “What are we doing?” you called after him, chasing behind him in bare feet. “Bobby!”

“You’ll find out,” he laughed, turning around and resting his hands on your shoulders. “Just wear something comfortable,” was all the information he gave you.

You sighed in a purposely dramatic fashion, shooting him a playful glance. You knew from the look on his face that he wasn’t going to tell you anything else, so there was no use in trying to get the information out of him. Instead, you quickly gulped down the rest of your coffee and finished off your scone—still trying to savor every bite—before tearing off your pajamas and jumping into the shower.

An hour later, you were ready to go, dressed in a cute pair of jeans and a new red and white sweater you’d just recently purchased. The weather today finally gave you an opportunity to wear it.

“Is this alright?” you asked Bob as you stepped into the living room, holding your arms out at your sides. It was hard to know what to wear when you had no idea what you were doing.

“It’s perfect,” Bob nodded, smiling as he rose from the couch and took in your appearance. “Just like you,” he added, winking as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“I could say the same thing to you,” you giggled, resting your hands on his broad chest. He was wearing a dark green crew neck sweater and dark jeans that fit his long figure exquisitely. “Now are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

Bob just shook his head, laughing out loud when you released a groan of exasperation. “Patience, my sweet wife,” he teased, taking your hand in his and leading you towards the front door. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

You really hadn’t been sure what to anticipate when you climbed into the car with Bob. As many guesses as you tried to make to figure out what his plans were, your husband’s expression was impenetrable. He didn’t give anything away, no matter what you said.

What you hadn’t been expecting was to pull into the parking lot of Petco Park.

As soon as Bob put the car in park, you glanced over at him curiously, trying to figure out what you were doing here. Your husband wasn’t a big baseball fan. And even if he was, it was the middle of December.

“I’m guessing we’re not here for a Padres game?” you ventured with a playful smile, glancing around the crowded parking lot.

Your husband laughed, shaking his head. “Not exactly. Come on,” he told you, climbing out of the car and hurrying around to the passenger side to open your door.

Slipping your hand into his, you followed his lead as he guided you through the milling crowd towards the entrance to the baseball stadium. He seemed almost giddy as the two of you got closer and closer to the park, glancing down at you every few seconds as if to check that you were still with him. You had no idea what was awaiting you, but his excitement was infectious and you found yourself buzzing with anticipation.

You weren’t disappointed.

As soon as Bob handed over your tickets to the attendant, you were swept up in the crowd of people surging towards Gallagher Square, where you were met with a breathtaking display of Christmas beauty.

“Oh, Bobby,” you breathed out, coming to a halt as you stared, wide-eyed and in awe of the beautiful market that surrounded you.

“Do you like it?” Bob asked, a thread of nervousness in his voice as he looked at you, watching the way you were silently taking everything in.

Turning to face him, your face split into a huge grin and you threw your arms around him, peppering his cheek with kisses. “I love it! It’s so wonderful!”

It was as close to a German Christmas market as you had ever come, with vendors of all kinds set up in little wooden booths ringing the perimeter of the square. There were shopkeepers selling a whole assortment of things, from hot chocolate and gingerbread cookies to homemade candy to personalized ornaments to fine wine and jewelry. Amidst all the different stalls were small stages where performances ranging from choirs to magic shows were taking place, not to mention the life-size snow globes and the giant sleigh where guests could take pictures. And at the center of it all was a ginormous Christmas tree that had to be at least thirty feet tall.

It was magical. It made you feel like you were a little girl again, attending your town’s local Christmas fair with your family.

“I didn’t even know this existed!” you exclaimed, still holding tightly to your husband as you continued to gaze around you.

“I didn’t either,” Bob admitted, unable to stop smiling at how happy you looked. “But Phoenix and Hangman told me they took the kids here last week and had a blast, so I knew I had to get you tickets.”

“Oh, thank you, honey! This is amazing!” you beamed, wrapping your arms around him to give him an enthusiastic kiss.

Bob chuckled and blushed slightly as he adjusted his glasses with one hand, his other hand resting on your hip. “Should we walk around?”

Nodding, you took his hand and practically hauled him across the square, bouncing from stall to stall and oohing and aahing over all the various trinkets and baubles.

“Oh, honey, look! We should get this,” you cooed, holding up a sweet ornament of a hand painted Christmas tree with a little banner draped across it that read Our First Christmas as Mr. and Mrs.

It didn’t matter that you had three other ornaments with similar messages already hanging on your Christmas tree at home. Bob gladly pulled out his wallet to buy it for you, his heart fluttering at the gorgeous smile that lit up your entire face when the vendor carefully wrapped it up and handed it to you.

“Thank you, Bobby. I can’t wait to put it on the tree when we get home,” you told him, carefully slipping the wrapped ornament into your purse.

“Anything for you, honey,” Bob murmured softly, kissing your forehead. “Alright, what’s our next stop?”

You and Bob continued to wander among the stalls for the next couple hours, stopping on occasion to take a photo or grab a snack—"This is sustenance," you grinned, holding up the little brown bag of freshly glazed almonds that you’d purchased for the two of you to munch on.

At one point, as you were admiring the work of a local artist, you heard the sound of the sweetest voices imaginable. Following the music, with Bob trailing closely behind, you walked a bit further up the path before stopping in front of a small choir made up of the most angelic looking children you had ever seen. The sign in front of the platform declared that they were students from a local school for children with special needs.

“Oh, Bobby,” you whispered, tears sparkling on your lashes as they sang the most beautiful version of “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” you had ever heard. Resting your head on your husband’s shoulder, you let the music wash over you, smiling brightly as they transitioned from one song to another.

You weren’t sure how long you stood there exactly—was it for three songs or six?—but when the children finally stopped singing, you and Bob burst into thunderous applause, prompting nearby onlookers to join in.

The pride on the children’s faces melted your heart as they shyly waved to the crowd and began making their way off the platform.

A little girl with Down syndrome, who couldn’t have been older than six or seven, suddenly broke away from the others and grabbed her mother’s hand, dragging her towards where you and your husband stood.

“Thank you for coming!” she said brightly, offering an adorable little gap-tooth smile.

“Thank you for having us!” you replied brightly, squatting down so that you were on eye level with her. “You all sounded amazing!”

To your surprise, the little girl lunged forward to wrap her arms around you in a tight hug.

“I’m sorry,” her mother exclaimed, touching her daughter’s shoulder and trying to pull her back.

“It’s alright,” you smiled, patting the little girl’s back before she let go. “No need to apologize.”

“Thank you for staying to listen for so long,” the woman said, looking between you and Bob. “The kids worked really hard on their program for today, so it was nice to have such a captive audience.”

“We were happy to do it, really,” Bob told her, smiling down at the little girl as he rested a hand on your lower back. “Christmas music is my wife’s favorite,” he told her conspiratorially.

Her eyes widened in delighted surprise. “Mine, too!”

You all laughed happily at that.

“Well, I hope you have an amazing Christmas and that Santa brings you everything you’re hoping for this year,” you told her, grinning at the way she lit up at the mention of Santa.

“Santa! Santa!” she cheered.

“That’s right,” her mother nodded, brushing her daughter’s hair back over her shoulder. “We should get going soon if we want to go see Santa. What do you say to the nice people who watched you sing?”

“Thank you!” the little girl said sweetly, giving both you and Bob another quick hug around the legs. “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!” you and Bob replied in unison, waving to both mother and daughter as you went your separate ways, smiling from ear to ear.

“You’re going to make an amazing mother one day,” Bob told you softly, the unadulterated adoration in his eyes warming you up from the inside out.

You just smiled dreamily in response, very much looking forward to the day when you would get to see Bob Floyd become a father.

“Well I think that was a very successful trip to the Christmas Market,” your husband said a few minutes later after you circled back to the center of the square.

“I had so much fun, honey. Thank you for thinking of this,” you told him, touched by the effort he’d made to bring you here and make it such a lovely afternoon.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Bob smiled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. He glanced down at his watch and raised his eyebrows. “Oh, but we better get going if we want to stay on schedule. Still have a lot to do.”

“Wait…what?” you questioned, startled. “There’s more?”

“I said I had a lot planned, didn’t I?” That mischievous twinkle had returned to his eyes. “You didn’t think this was it, did you?”

“Bob Floyd, what do you have up your sleeve?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest and looking up at him with a quirked brow, trying and failing to mask the smile tugging at your lips.

“You’ll see,” was all he said, taking your hand and leading you back to the car.

If you had been uncertain about what your husband’s plans were when you’d arrived at Petco Park, you were doubly unsure what he had in mind when he turned onto the bridge connecting San Diego to Coronado.

“Are you taking me with you to work?” you wondered with a laugh, looking out the window at the afternoon sun sparkling on the San Diego Bay. You often told Bob that you were jealous of the view he got to enjoy on his commute to and from North Island.

Bob laughed at your question, but simply shook his head in response, turning up the radio as Mariah Carey began belting “All I Want for Christmas is You.”

“Hmmm, saved by the Queen of Christmas,” you joked, nudging him playfully as he took a turn off the bridge.

“Now, honey, you know that you’re the Queen of Christmas,” Bob retorted, winking at you as he made a few more turns.

“True,” you giggled, singing along to the radio until Hotel Coronado appeared in your sights, in all its glorious grandeur. You glanced over at Bob curiously, but he didn’t say anything as he searched for a parking spot.

“The suspense is killing me, Bobby,” you lamented, clinging onto his arm once he finally did manage to park the car. “What are we doing now?”

Turning to face you, Bob was struck once again by just how deeply he loved you. There was no one else he’d drag himself all over San Diego for on his day off from work.

“We’re going ice skating,” he explained, chuckling at the shocked expression on your face.

“You mean…Skating by the Sea?!” you gasped excitedly, practically bouncing up and down in your seat. “Bobby, you got tickets?”

“Sure did,” he nodded, pulling them out of his pocket to show you.

“Oh my gosh, how?” you breathed, reaching out to touch them as if you were afraid they would disappear.

“Mav knows a guy,” Bob chuckled, shaking his head affectionately as he thought of his boss and mentor.

As Hotel Coronado’s most popular winter attraction, it was nearly impossible to get tickets to Skating by the Sea during the Christmas season, but when Bob had mentioned it at work, Maverick had promised that he would be able to procure him a couple tickets. How he managed it, Bob didn’t know, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know either. All that mattered was that you were looking at him right now like he had hung the moon and the stars, and there was no better reward than that.

“Ready to go?” Bob asked, holding out his hand to you.

“Ready!” you cheered, placing your hand in his and holding on tight.

It had been quite some time since you had actually been ice skating, and you were a bit rusty, especially in comparison to your midwestern husband, who had grown up ice skating on frozen ponds every winter. Still, despite your wobbly knees, you were determined to enjoy every moment of this experience.

“It’s alright, sweetheart, I’ve got you,” Bob murmured encouragingly, holding tightly to your hands as he guided you onto the ice, sticking close to the wall in case you needed extra support.

“If you had told me we were coming, I could have brushed up on my skills ahead of time,” you teased, glancing down at your white rental skates as you carefully slid one foot in front of the other.

“And ruin the surprise and the look on your face when I told you what we were doing? Never,” he grinned, gently squeezing your hands as you slowly started to become more confident and steady on your feet. “You’ve got it, honey. Try looking up at me. I won’t let go,” he promised.

Slowly, you lifted your gaze from your feet up to your husband’s midsection, and then finally up to his face, that face that you adored more than anything else on this earth.

“There you go, you’ve got it. You’re doing such a good job,” Bob praised you, his confidence unshaken as he moved backwards across the ice. It was incredibly attractive how sure of himself he was out here.

“I think I’ve got it now. Want to try letting go?” you asked with a grin, feeling a little nervous but willing to give it a shot.

Smiling proudly, Bob nodded and slowly released his grip on your hands, letting you glide independently for a few seconds. You moved forward tentatively, your hands still out at your sides so that you could grab onto him—or the wall—if needed.

“That’s it, honey! Look at you go!” your husband cheered, making you laugh as you carefully made your way over to the opposite wall, which afforded you breathtaking views of the beach and the ocean beyond.

Seconds later, Bob skated up beside you, resting with you against the wall and enjoying the same view. “Pretty beautiful, huh?” he asked, gazing down at you.

“Insanely beautiful,” you agreed, resting your hand over his and squeezing gently. “I’m so glad we’re here.”

“Me, too,” Bob nodded, lifting your hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “But it doesn’t matter what we’re doing. I’m just so glad to be with you.”

“Honey,” you breathed out, touched by the sweetness of his words. They actually made you well up a little bit.

“I mean it, sweetheart. It’s not the things we do that make days like this special. It’s getting to do them with you. That’s all I really wanted. I’ve missed you these past few weeks,” he confessed.

“Oh, Bobby,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest. “I’m so sorry, honey. I didn’t know you felt that way.”

Bob was quiet for a moment, just holding you close and resting his cheek atop your head.

“I love you so much, you know,” you told him, lifting your head to press a kiss to his jaw.

“I know,” he nodded, his mouth turning up in a tender smile. “I love you, too. More than anything.”

After a couple moments of comfortable silence, you took his hand and started to push away from the wall. “Come on, let’s go show everybody what an amazing skater you are,” you laughed, nearly toppling over in your eagerness. Thankfully, Bob had some of the quickest reflexes you’d ever seen and was there to catch you.

He was always there to catch you.

You and your husband spent the next hour twirling around on the ice, you trying your best not to fall and Bob trying his best to keep you from falling. By the time your legs were starting to ache in protest, the sun was just beginning to set over the beach, the sky exploding in hues of orange, pink, and red.

“Isn’t that the most gorgeous thing you’ve ever seen?” you whispered in awe, resting your cheek against your husband’s strong chest and soaking in the moment.

“A close second to you,” Bob replied, chuckling at the adorable way you got all flustered at his compliment. “C’mon, sweetheart, let’s get those skates off you.”

Stepping off the rink, Bob carefully guided you to a nearby bench and sat you down before squatting in front of you to untie your laces.

“What did I ever do to deserve you?” you asked softly, reaching out to lightly caress his flushed cheek as he ministered to you.

“I ask myself the same thing every day when I get to wake up beside you,” he said, pressing a kiss to your knee before pulling your skates off. He then rose and plopped down beside you on the bench, pulling off his own skates with ease.

After you returned your rental skates and collected your things, Bob stopped you on the pathway near the beach and looked down at you.

“I hope you’ve worked up an appetite after all this,” he told you, a knowing smile on his face. “Because we’ve got one more stop.”

“We do? Oh, Bobby! This day has already been so special. I can’t imagine how it could get any better,” you declared, wondering what more he could possibly have in store.

“Wait and see,” Bob winked, taking your hand as you began strolling off hotel property and towards where you had parked “Oh, and I’ve got a little something in the car for you to change into.”

The last thing on earth you had been expecting when your husband handed you a small duffel bag out of the trunk of the car was to open it up and find the beautiful red dress you’d worn last Christmas—the one Bob hadn’t been able to stop gushing about or get you out of fast enough after Christmas dinner—and your favorite pair of high heels, plus the diamond studs and pendant he’d gifted you last year, the ones you only wore on very special occasions.

And yet, there you were, sitting beside your husband in the passenger seat of his car in your holiday finest, flying along the open road towards some unknown destination.

You weren’t the only one who had changed after your ice skating escapades. Bob had packed a second duffel, it seemed, for when you had returned from getting changed, he was waiting for you, no longer clad in his crew neck and jeans, but in a pair of black slacks and a dinner jacket, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the collar.

“For you,” he said with a wide smile, handing you a small bouquet of red and white roses—another surprise he’d been hiding in that trunk of his.

You held the sweet-smelling flowers close to your nose now as Bob made a few turns, heading in a direction that was not totally familiar to you.

“I can’t believe you did all this,” you whispered softly, a hint of emotion catching in your voice as you rested the beautiful bouquet in your lap. You couldn’t wait to put it in one of your Christmas vases when you got home and proudly display it on the coffee table in the living room.

Bob glanced over at you as he came to a red light, his blue eyes brimming with adoration as he soaked in how happy and content you looked. “You deserve it,” he told you, reaching out to rest a hand on your thigh, his fingers lightly stroking the inside of your knee. “You deserve all this and so much more. And I’m so lucky to be the man who gets to give it to you—or try anyway,” he added with a sheepish laugh.

Before the light could turn green, you leaned over and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss. “You succeed,” you murmured against his lips. “Every time. I’m the luckiest woman in the world.”

“I love you,” he smiled, caressing your cheek with the pad of his thumb before returning both hands to the wheel, ignoring the disgruntled driver who was honking behind him.

You giggled as you settled back in your seat with a happy sigh. “I love you, too, honey.” You paused for a moment or two, then tacked on, “Now will you tell me where we’re going?”

“Nice try,” Bob laughed, shooting you a sideways glance. “I haven’t spoiled any of my surprises today. You think I’m going to start now?”

“Oh, fine,” you replied, heaving a dramatic sigh and then grinning. “I can’t wait to find out what it is though.”

“I have a feeling you’re really going to love it,” he said, his smile warmer than the San Diego sun as he tapped his hands excitedly on the steering wheel, his own anticipation building.

“I know I will,” you nodded, lifting the bouquet of roses to your nose once more and taking a delicate sniff. “I love anything so long as I’m doing it with you.”

A few minutes later, Bob made a final turn that led the two of you up a winding, gorgeously manicured road. Leaning forward, you gazed out the window eagerly, trying to place exactly where you were. At that exact moment, a large sign came into view that read FAIRMONT GRAND DEL MAR.

Gasping in delight, you practically had your nose smushed against the glass as your husband drove past stunning gardens and twinkling fountains, all decked out with the most darling, demure decorations you had ever seen.

Fairmont Grand Del Mar was one of the most luxurious and glamorous hotels in all of Southern California, and while it was basically right in your own backyard, you had never stepped foot on its grounds before.

You suddenly found yourself very grateful that your jeans and sweater were safely tucked away in a duffel bag. Thank goodness your brilliant husband thought of everything.

“Oh my goodness, Bobby!” you squealed, covering your mouth to try to control the delighted laughter that was bubbling up inside you. But it was no use. “It’s so beautiful here!”

“It is, isn’t it?” Bob hummed in agreement, taking in the view as he slowed his pace along the property’s winding pathways. “A beautiful girl in a beautiful place. Sounds about right to me,” he added, eyes sparkling behind his glasses.

You just smiled at that, a pleasant warmth rushing to your cheeks as you tried to take in as much of the views as you could. As if the hotel grounds weren’t breathtaking enough on their own, they’d clearly gone to great lengths to turn the property into a winter wonderland for the holidays and they had more than succeeded. You loved every inch of it.

Moments later, after Bob had helped you out of the car and handed his keys off to a valet parker, he wrapped an arm around your waist and led you into the lobby of what seemed to be one of the hotel’s restaurants. It was elegantly designed, with Persian rugs and cream-colored marble walls, scrolled detailing on the ceiling, and a roaring fireplace to give the room a cozy, inviting atmosphere. It was decorated for the season with class—golden candelabras, dark red poinsettias, aromatic garland wrapped in red ribbons and bows, giant wreaths practically the size of you hanging on the walls.

It felt like a little Christmas paradise.

You were thankful for Bob’s strong hand on your back, guiding you along as you tripped over your own two feet, gazing around the room in unabashed awe.

“Don’t worry, honey,” he whispered in your ear as you approached the host stand. “I’ll make sure to take lots of pictures of you in that gorgeous dress with this perfect Christmas backdrop,” he chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I want you in the pictures, too,” you whispered back, grinning as you squeezed his hand where it was resting on your hip. “Too bad we didn’t think to come here for our Christmas card photo,” you added, eyes crinkling in amusement.

“Next year,” Bob winked. He managed to tear his gaze away from you only when the two of you finally got to the stand and the hostess looked at you expectantly.

“Good evening,” she said in a voice that was calm, cool, and cultured. “Do you have a reservation with us tonight?”

“Yes,” Bob told her, squeezing your hip softly as he spoke. “Dinner for two. It should be under Floyd.”

The hostess checked her computer screen and smiled. “Ah, yes. We’re pleased to welcome you tonight, Mr. and Mrs. Floyd. Please, follow me,” she said, leading you through a small maze of elegantly set tables, bedecked with what appeared to be antique tablecloths, romantic candles, and subtle hints of holly and garland.

The three of you finally came to a stop at a cozy table right near a window which overlooked the gardens, a twinkling Christmas tree right in your line of vision.

“Your server will be right with you,” the hostess told you as the two of you got settled in your seats. “We hope you very much enjoy our special Christmas menu here at Fairmont Grand Del Mar,” she added with a gracious smile before turning to head back to her post.

“Thank you,” you murmured with a soft smile, maintaining every ounce of decorum you could possibly muster until the woman was out of earshot. Then you let out a delighted squeal, the same sound you used to make when opening your presents on Christmas morning as a little girl. “Bobby! This is incredible! How did you manage this?” you demanded, gaping at him in amazement. Then you giggled. “Wait, let me guess. Mav knows another guy?”

“Actually this time, it was Payback who knew a guy,” Bob laughed, reaching across the table to take your hand in his, brushing his thumb across your soft skin. “His cousin works concierge at the hotel, so he managed to pull a few strings.”

“Amazing,” you grinned, squeezing his hand lovingly. “Don’t let me forget to thank Mav and Reuben when I see them at the party.”

“Just Mav and Reuben?” he teased, pretending to be wounded.

You leaned in a little closer, lowering your voice as you told him, “Well I’m going to give you a proper thank you tonight.” Your eyes sparkled in tandem with the diamond pendant hanging around your neck.

Bob’s cheeks turned bright pink as he caught your meaning, and he reached up to tug lightly at the collar of his shirt, clearing his throat.

Winking, you leaned back with a smile. Your husband was saved from having to come up with a reply by the sudden appearance of your waiter, an older, dignified man named Antonio, who greeted you both warmly as he shared some drink recommendations.

Despite the fact that Bob hardly ever drank, he ordered the two of you a bottle of champagne that came highly recommended, which Antonio happily delivered along with a bucket of ice.

“To you, sweetheart,” Bob toasted, lifting the flute that your waiter had filled just a moment earlier. “This time of year wouldn’t be half as special if it wasn’t for you.”

“No, to you,” you smiled, raising your own champagne flute to mirror your husband’s. “Today was beyond words, and none of it would have been possible without you.”

“To us then,” he grinned, compromising as he tipped his glass towards you.

“To us,” you nodded in agreement, lightly clinking your glass against his before taking a sip. “Mmm, that’s delicious,” you murmured appreciatively, licking a drop of the champagne off your lip.

“Mhm,” Bob hummed, looking almost surprised. “I mean, not that I have much to compare to, but I’d say this is the best champagne I’ve ever had.”

“Better than at our wedding?” you joked.

“I stand corrected. This is the second best champagne I’ve ever had,” he chuckled.

You and Bob relaxed into smooth and easy conversation. Both your mothers would have scolded you for resting your elbows on the table, especially in such a fancy restaurant, but neither of you cared as you leaned in closer to one another, whispering over the candlelight as the twinkling lights outside the window illuminated your lovestruck faces. Faintly, in the distance, you could hear the soft sounds of classic Christmas tunes being played on a piano. It was the most perfect evening you could have imagined.

The food was some of the best you’d ever tasted. After much debate, you finally settled on the filet mignon with a bearnaise sauce, roasted vegetables, and what had to be the world’s creamiest mashed potatoes, while Bob selected the pork medallions with roasted garlic fingerling potatoes and a brussel sprout salad. Although really it was hard to say who had ordered what considering the way you kept picking food off each other’s plates.

By the time the sour-cherry cheesecake trifle that the two of you had ordered for the grand finale came out, you felt like you were going to burst right out of your pretty red dress. But like you always said, there was always room for dessert.

“You want to know the craziest thing?” you asked, looking up at Bob as you set your fork down on the plate resting between you and your husband. When he nodded at you, you went on, “I just realized that I didn’t think about any of my holiday planning at all today—the shopping, my work party, the parties we’re hosting, none of it. It didn’t cross my mind at all even though it’s all I’ve been thinking about these past few weeks. Isn’t that funny?”

Bob set his fork down as well and gazed at you from across the table, the corners of his mouth turning up in a small smile. “Good,” he said, reaching out to take your hand in his once more, gently playing with your wedding band. “That was my mission, and it sounds like it was a success. I wanted today to be a day where you just got to have fun and enjoy this time of year. I know how much it means to you, and I also know that it’ll be over in the blink of an eye, so we have to make the most of it while we can.”

Your heart melted at his words, and you felt the corners of your eyes pricking with happy tears. Your husband was truly the most thoughtful, selfless, caring man you had ever known. You would never know what you had ever done to get so lucky as to find him.

“Oh, Bobby,” you breathed out, mimicking his actions and lightly rolling his wedding band underneath your finger as you reached for his other hand. You were quiet for a moment, then thought of his words from earlier, the words that had been niggling the back of your mind on and off since you’d left the ice skating rink. “What you said before,” you began slowly, chewing on your bottom lip, “about missing me these past few weeks. Have I really been that busy? I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, honey, no,” Bob gasped, squeezing your hands tightly in his own. “I didn’t say that to make you feel guilty. I’ve just been worried about you, that’s all. You’re always so happy this time of year, and I know how much it means to you, so I hate to see you running yourself ragged like you have been. I guess I was starting to be afraid that you were going to burn yourself out before Christmas even got here.”

Your heart constricted at the genuine concern in his voice, at the way he was always looking out for you, even when you weren’t paying careful enough attention.

“And I have missed you,” he added softly, lifting one of your hands to his lips and pressing a tender kiss to it.

“I’ve missed you, too, honey,” you whispered, your throat clogging with emotion as you thought of the many nights you’d come home later than usual after running to the stores after work, too tired to curl up on the couch and watch a movie with your husband or just get to enjoy his company. “And you’re right—I have been running myself ragged. I can feel it. I’ve been so tired, and I feel like I don’t even have the time to enjoy all my favorite traditions.” You sighed softly, shaking your head. “I just—I just wanted everything to be perfect this year, you know?”

“It always is perfect,” Bob murmured encouragingly, gently stroking the inside of your wrist with his calloused fingertips, his movements slow and soothing.

“I know, but with it being our first married Christmas, I guess I just wanted it to be really perfect. I got it into my head that we needed to start all these new traditions and that I had to keep on top of everything at all times to make sure that it happened, but now I’m realizing that in the process of all that, I lost sight of what’s most important about celebrating our first Christmas as husband and wife—you,” you admitted, reaching up to lovingly cup his cheek in your hand.

He smiled softly at your words, turning his head slightly to press a kiss to the inside of your palm. “Sweetheart, the good news is that we have a whole lifetime of making traditions together. So long as it’s you and me, then that’s all I need,” he promised you.

You nodded, a couple stray tears spilling down your cheeks, which you wiped away with a sheepish little laugh. “You’re right. Today was a pretty good start to some Floyd Christmas traditions, I think,” you told him with a grin.

Bob reached out to thumb away the tears sparkling like diamonds on your skin. “I agree,” he smiled. “But the truth is, I don’t care what we’re doing. We could go ice skating on the beach or watch a movie on the couch. We could have a five-star dinner at the Fairmont Grand Del Mar or eat take-out on the kitchen floor.” He glanced around for a moment, just to check if anyone had heard him, his blue eyes laughing as he turned back to you. “I just want to do it with you. That’s what Christmas really means to me, sweetheart. All the other stuff, that’s icing on the cake.”

“I love you so much,” you whispered, leaning across the table and capturing his mouth with your own, the taste of sour cherries and champagne still clinging to his lips.

His fingers tangled in your hair as he cradled the back of your head and kissed you back until you were both sitting breathless in your chairs.

“You’re the love of my life,” he told you. “No matter how many traditions come and go, that’s one thing that will never change.”

As soon as you and Bob got home that night, exhausted in the best way after a perfect day together, you both ran to change into the Christmas pajamas you’d worn last Christmas Eve, then curled up on the couch with steaming mugs of hot cocoa to watch A Charlie Brown Christmas.

“Tired?” Bob asked softly as the Peanuts crew sang “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing” while the credits rolled.

“Mmm, a little,” you nodded, lifting your head from where it had been resting on his shoulder.

“Ready to head to bed?” he yawned, pushing the blanket back and rising from the couch before turning to hold his hands out to you.

“Mhm,” you murmured, slipping your hands into your husband’s and allowing him to pull you to your feet. “But not to go to sleep just yet,” you added pointedly.

At your husband’s raised brows, you giggled softly.

“I still have to properly thank you for today,” you reminded him with a playful wink.

You had never seen him move so fast.

That Christmas turned out to be one of the best you’d ever celebrated. Your work party went off without a hitch, the Daggers were already talking about how they needed to make a party at the Floyds’ an annual Christmas tradition, and your families loved getting to spend the holidays together as one huge unit. Every gift you’d purchased was well received and every meal you cooked was touted as the best anyone had ever eaten.

But that wasn’t what made it so special.

As you had been reminded this year, Christmas was about so much more than the planning and the presents and the parties. Those things were nice, sure, but they weren’t what made this time of year so magical.

What made this Christmas so perfect was the handsome man with blue eyes and a wide smile waiting for you beneath the mistletoe.

He was the only gift you needed, today and every day for the rest of your life.

[ayaisokay]

The Kids Aren't Alright

* ~ I'm sorry for making this ~ *

Doomers & Fatalism

Regardless of your age, you need a reason to move forward. You need hope. Yet, it's hard to find hope for teens and young adults.

Not a year goes by without an update on the planet's decline (at our hand), wealth is only feeling more unstable and unequally distributed, a pandemic destroyed any hope of sociability for some, and social media does more harm than good when it "connects" people.

There's no true community, nothing to take pride in, there's hardly motivation for ambition or wealth. Hell, we grow up being told we'll be a generation of renters, because it's a statistical improbability than any of us will EVER afford a home without working 3 jobs into our grave.

I can't speak for America, but I know my government haven't made any real effort to prevent renter's from taking that news and slowly inflating rent costs each month.

I'm a part of the generation that is thought to deal with the broadest range of mental health concerns; however, I'm also part of the generation that's most likely to be told to "deal with it," or "grow up," by the people perpetuating our suffering, or the peers that fell victim to toxic hustle culture— enabling the shitty circumstances.

When you start adulthood with so many problems that directly impact your life, most of which come at no fault of your own, you'd hope for help in addressing those matters, but it never comes.

We're told we're lazy, we don't try hard enough, and we've got it easy (which is a demonstrable lie). How is it any surprise we became hopeless doomers? At some point you just get the idea that we were destined to fail.

Threats of War

Now we're told to be ready for World War 3 and I'm struggling to understand why. What values am I defending? Why should I die for a country that doesn't care about me?

Sure, Ukraine and Palestine are in shitty situations, but saying that doesn't require me to do anything. Though they demonstrate something: the government will risk our lives for money, and turn a blind eye to genocide if it suits them.

All that matters is that we're made to feel like our interests align. They don't represent us. They represent themselves.

Don't get me wrong, I don't support either conflict, and I sympathise with the aforementioned nations; however, I am not willing to die for them— I don't think you are. So is it even fair for us to bother complaining? It's not like diplomacy has done a thing so far.

Whether we're roped into a war or not, it doesn't feel like we'd have a choice.

Hobbies and Corporations

Normally I'd propose finding an outlet for everything. I'm not sure that's ideal anymore. Commonplace hobbies like gaming, sports, martial arts, reading, and art, they require 3 things: time, motivation, and effort.

Thanks to hustle culture, holding 3 jobs, running a drop shipping business, and abandoning any meaningful social life is considered just enough and reasonable. That doesn't leave time for personal hobbies, entertainment, or time to actually live. A life like that is no life at all. You're an animal operating on the exclusive goal of survival. You're alive, but you're not living.

Among those of us too physically or mentally scarred to work like our peers, we compassionately took to pen and paper, or software and devices, writing stories, drawing and animating worlds, or making music.

I fear that pocket of joy is getting smaller. AI image generation has already impacted artists, AI voice recreations are already being used in place of some voice actors, and we've all seen the AI voice covers for songs— claiming "you don't need to learn to sing." It didn't take long for me to see "generative AI" being proposed as a source for track samples and stems in music production.

Considering such things, it's hard to motivate yourself to put your work out there. You struggle to justify spending time creating anything, and you're probably not ready to put the effort into producing enough algorithm optimised works per day. After all, no one will see it. No one cares.

That's how it feels.

Social Media

Maybe we still have digital spaces? Really. Are cespools like Twitter spaces you can enjoy? Even Tumblr is quite detached, with small accounts struggling to get so much as a couple likes— nevermind a reblog, and god forbid you get a comment or DM.

That's minor though, it's the relationships that bother me. The ability to lock someone out of your life, within 5 seconds, for the slightest of perceived infractions. You're sensitive and a snowflake if you need boundaries, and you're "rude" and "mean" when you're pushed too far for not establishing them.

You can join a fandom or community and run into those issues, but do you really need more trouble? Ive hung around with furries since I was 13 or 14. It wasn't a furry that SA'd me, and I've never been groomed. But as a child online, I was labelled as a dog fucking groomer (at 15), because I was in a furry community discord server. I don't like to think about how that made the young adult owner of the server feel.

Social media is good for "satirical trolls," who take pleasure in hurting as many people as they can, and then claiming it's OK because they're joking, and you should've known. Is it really worth the effort for anyone else? You know, us "normal people," not bogged down by million strong fanbases, actively managing parasocial relationships and morally questionable stalking.

Closing Statements

I'm not entirely sure why I wrote this post. I guess I'm just another girl crying on the internet when I should save it for the therapy I can't actually afford.

I want to be hopeful, to feel like there's something attainable to desire, or even just things to look forward to. It's been a long time since I woke up and felt there was a good reason to be awake or even alive.

Thanks,

- The Girl That Doesn't Exist

[kittenfangirl20]

Queen Adam Au Part 6

Velvette was throwing material around her fashion studio, she needed to find the perfect material. Not just any will do.

If she was going to gain favor with the Queen of Hell, Adam Morningstar, then it needed to be perfect.

For months Velvette had been keeping an eye on magazine articles about what Adam would wear and not long after those items would become hot commodities.

She wanted that monetary profit.

Vox walked in narrowly avoided getting his by a bag of glitter.

Vox: Vel, what fresh Hell is this? You're making a mess.

Velvette: I want to make the most perfect dress for the Queen. If Adam loves and buys a dress from me we will be rolling in it more than we are now. He's a fashion icon, anyone worth their shit wants to look like him.

Vox sipped his coffee: That would be a great help. Has he bought anything of yours in the past?

Velvette deflated a bit: No, but that just means he hasn't worn a true fucking masterpiece yet!

-

Adam yawned, it was so early and he had to feed his babies. He went to the nursery to get the twins.

Adam: Good morning my little beauties.

He picked up Ariel first and sat in the rocking chair while he breast fed his baby.

Lucifer came in a couple minutes later: Hey, need any help?

Adam: You can burp her so I can feed him.

Lucifer: Okay, come here my beauties.

Lucifer took the baby and gave Adam a kiss. He burped his little girl as Adam picked up Adrial and fed him.

*Adam was so happy over the fact that Lucifer was not only an amazing husband, he was also an equally amazing father as well, fatherhood was just as important to Adam as motherhood was, he was the father of humanity after all, he prided himself on the fact that Eve praised him for being such a good father, Adam fully admitted that he had a praise kink which both of his spouses took advantage of, he then realized something, he hadn’t seen Emily all day*

Adam: Where is Emily?

Lucifer: Now that you mention it, she hasn’t left her room at all.

Adam: I hope she isn’t sick.

*after the babies were fed and burped, Adam went to check on Emily, she was frantically running around the room looking at the dresses Adam helped her buy and trying to figure out what wig she should wear or if she should even wear a wig*

Adam: Hey Emmy, are you alright?

Emily: Everything has to be perfect for my date with Satan tonight………… Oh no, you’re going to give him the shovel talk now.

*Adam smirked*

Adam: Yep, I mean what kind of older brother would be if I didn’t. I am the second most powerful being in Hell and mom would be disappointed if I didn’t give him the shovel talk.

*both suddenly got quiet, they still hadn’t heard about what happened to Sera after Emily fell, Lucifer was constantly sending messages to Heaven through Heaven’s Embassy demanding that they give him an answer about the head seraphim and the status of former Sinners who became Winners*

Emily: I still miss mom.

Adam: I do too, remember when I got sick and she bought me Muffin to help me feel better.

*Adam’s favorite giant lion plushie was now also the favorite of his kids*

Emily: Yeah, she also made the best cakes and muffins for us as well.

Adam: I am proud to say those cakes and muffins contributed to my chubby gut that Luci loves so much.

*Adam proudly pat his stomach*

Adam: I do hope you have a wonderful date and I am still going to give Satan the shovel talk.

*at the Vee Tower Vox and Valentino sat on the couch watching Velvette working so frantically*

Valentino: I don’t get why she is so obsessed with making the Queen so happy especially since he played a part in me losing my best star to Heaven.

Velvette: Fashion is everything, fashion is life. Everything Adam wears becomes the next sensation. You will thank me when my outfits earn so much money for us.

Vox: She does bring up a good point, gain the favor of Queen Adam and you are all abound Hell can talk about.

*Valentino just stared at the both of them wondering why they were acting like they didn’t orchestrate a smear campaign against Queen Adam because Manmon and Lilith hired them to, he didn’t care one way or another, he liked being a scumbag that others feared, in fact he thought that his Adam/Alastor porn was his best work yet, it was too bad that the people of Hell didn’t see it that way since they were so obsessed with their pretty Queen sadly Lucifer had ever copy of the porno destroyed aside from the one secret copy Valentino owned which he sadly couldn��t sell because no one dare buy it, well at least he could watch it and pleasure himself to it*

Valentino: You two have fun obsessing over the Queen of Hell, I am going to work now.

@things-arent-what-they-seem66

[itsnotmourn]

Not ship chart related but I think your art is so pretty!! Do you have any tips? Especially with coloring if it’s okay <] (/nf)

waah thank you very much! i'll try and explain but here’s my colouring-specific tips, or at least how i choose my colours !! <3

unless for stylistic reasons (e.g. greyscale drawing), i personally avoid pure black, greys and white for colouring. go and choose off-colours instead! for lineart, black is okay but i always go for an actual colour anyways heheh. for the background colour of your canvas, sometimes an actual colour (rather than white or grey) may help you pick your palette to be more harmonised!

following this, i also don't like using pure/neon for colours, unless it's for a certain aesthetic or artstyle (e.g. the character has a "toxic/radioactive" aesthetic; the character is a scenedog (or similiar); or highlights). see below for examples! they may be subtle but sometimes the subtly can make the difference you are looking for... if you're looking for a natural look. if you're aiming for the bright/old 2000's artstyle, then pure/neons may be your friend!

when i'm casually drawing characters (oc or not), i rarely colour-pick from the reference image. i find that when you're "forced to make the palette", it can come out more pleasing to your style/atmosphere of the drawing! it’s more personalised that way... like yea, that’s my favourite versions of those colours! i'm not saying that my colours are better though, only that "hey that's me! in those colours!!" you can have the reference image on the side or go by memory. here’s me doing this with pride flags:

nowadays, when drawing the spooky month characters—who have simple designs god bless—i can just imagine their reference and adjust the colours in my head lol example: if i know that Lila's colour palette is purple, and that her winter sweater is coloured lighter than her hair, then i can just go ahead and pick whatever shade i want following that rule!

(of course, always double check with the actual reference for physical design inaccuracies and skin tone if it applies. my advice above is just for general hair/clothing colours! …because yknow you don't want to accidentally whitewash a character's skin in the name of aesthetics lol. if you’re unsure and want to be on the careful side, please do colour pick the skin at least !!)

moving on... gradient maps and certain blending modes (like exclusion, luminosity and darken) can be a game changer too. for normal drawings (e.g. drawings with no environment), i use darken the most because it changes a few colours rather than the entire piece... (the percentages are opacity levels!)

oh and as a really basic shading tip without using blending modes: sometimes, you just gotta go for grey. shading a warmer colour? use grey to make a cool tone. shading a cool colour? use grey to make a warm tone. not all the time (because you don’t wanna make your shading seem muddy), just sometimes…

and that's that! there's always exceptions to rules and often times, your headshot doodle ends up as one big experimental mess (in a fun way, hopefully)!

this is how i choose my colours though most of the time, it is just me going “good enough”

i think we're pretty similar on how we like warm colours! i enjoy going the simple/lazy route and avoid blend modes but then again, shading is a whole different thing…

hope this helps in any way !! <:3 !!! <3

[serbarris]

Sweet music playing in the dark

Dragon Age: the Veilguard, some spoilers for plot, spoilers for Emmrichs romance  Pairing: F!Rook Ingellvar x Emmrich Volkarin  Rating: T   Summary: A slight reimagining of Emmrich and Rook's romantic interest confession scene with the wisps. Words: 1730 Set after the 3rd scene in I'll Crawl Home to Her

Added to ao3

“Ah, Rook! I’m glad you're here, I was wondering if you could satisfy my curiosity.” Calliope nodded, making her way over to Emmrich as he perched on the desk atop the landing in his quarters. Her anxiety spiked slightly as she wondered what Emmrich could be asking about but nevertheless allowed him to continue, “If you don’t mind me asking, why did you not mention you were once my student before the other night?”   

Calliope pondered her answer. Would now be a good time to admit her crush? No, but Emmrich has been somewhat reciprocating her poor attempts at flirting, so he must somewhat also at least consider her enough of a friend to appease her, and let her down gently, so she could try to be open with him. “I was a bit embarrassed,” she began, watching Emmrich’s eyebrows raise. “Not by your teaching! You were a good teacher, a great teacher, I... I just didn’t know if it would be weird for you to know - since we’re working on saving the world together.” It was also for her own benefit that Emmrich didn’t try to remember Calliope as a scrawny young woman, always behind in the latest fashion due to the hand-me-downs the other watchers passed to her.    

“Seeing you now, I believe I made entirely the right choice in accepting you into my class all those years ago. I must admit, I quite envy you, Rook.”    

“Really?” Calliope asked, breathlessly, how could she be the envy of Emmrich? When she still yearned for his knowledge and techniques to manipulate the fade and spirits, he showed her every day how much she could grow as a Watcher.   

“You know how seldom Watchers leave Nevarra, if ever. You’ve already travelled more of Thedas than most of us see in a lifetime. What adventures you’ve had!” Wonder and excitement permeated every word. It filled Calliope with a warm feeling and the hope that maybe Emmrich was just as fascinated with her as she was with him. Any pride in herself however was coated with a hint of darkness, she hadn’t really wanted to go on the adventures she had in the last 12 or so months, they were rather forced upon her due to her ‘agreed break’ from the Mourn Watch, which still made her question, daily – if not hourly - if she regretted her actions.   

“I wish the choice to have those adventures was completely my own, but it’s flattering you think me a grand adventurer.”   

“Well, something thrills at travelling with a daring young woman who’s racing to stop an apocalypse.” Inevitably a pink flush rose to her cheeks and heated them fiercely, just as it had at any other time Emmrich complimented Calliope. “Especially if she’s shown unexpected interest in an old Professor?” Calliope’s heart felt like it was pounding too fast, or too slow - she wasn’t very good at biology when it came to live humans - but she felt her pulse thud in her ears as her mouth became dry. Emmrich smiled as if he could sense the way her skin felt too tight, that her brain had so many thoughts rushing through that she struggled to form a coherent sentence. As she replied he tried to follow her face, which she shied away, hiding to the side, not wanting to meet Emmrich’s own eyes. “You have a very... charming way of putting things.”   

“Well thank you. I have taken notice of how you always compliment my work, Rook. It’s most flattering considering your own abilities. Perhaps those years at the lectern have proved useful.” Pondered Emmrich, considering the skull in his hand, Calliope could see a thought cross his face before he turned to her and asked, “May I show you something of the greater Fade here?” His voice was deeper as he asked, thrumming under Calliope’s skin.   

She managed to let out, “Please.” It was almost a whisper.   

“Close your eyes. Take a breath.” Calliope couldn’t resist taking a peek at Emmrich as she felt him move closer, her senses heightened, “Ah.” Emmrich admonished, “Slow. Deep.” Emmrich lightly gripped Calliope’s hand, guiding it to rest on the top of the skull, covering her hand with his own, she felt his rings press against her meagre jewellery. As Emmrich spoke an incantation, she felt a tingling sensation from underneath her fingers, she felt the ripples of magic spread around them, electrifying their surroundings. Feeling a presence nearby, she moved slightly, her nose being tickled by the unknown apparition. Slowly opening her eyes, she gasped with awe as she was met with a flurry of wisps of all different sizes dancing around herself and Emmrich. They danced and twirled around reminding her of the paintings of ballrooms in Vorgoth’s collection. Mesmerised she stared as the wisps encircled the pair, drawing her closer to Emmrich, she could almost feel his breath on her face, “If your attentions go beyond charming flattery... that would interest me, indeed.”    

Calliope took a moment to register Emmrich’s words. His tender, questioning voice. She must be dreaming, right? This wasn’t happening. Emmrich Volkarin, famed Fade expert, and corpse whispering extraordinaire, who she’s been infatuated with since she was 16 is interested in her. If she went back and told herself this day was happening then young Calliope probably would have fainted, Maker, present Calliope felt like she could faint. “I’ve always -”   

Hiss   

Her breathless confession was cut off by the arrival of Manfred. Sweet, precious Manfred. Calliope's sigh of relief was louder than she anticipated, but she was glad she hadn’t blurted out that she had found him attractive and had dreamed about the slightest possibility Emmrich also reciprocated her feelings. As Calliope made her way towards the stairs, Emmrich caught her arm, “Rook, I must attend to this, but I’d be delighted if we found each other later.”   

Calliope knocked on Emmrich’s door, hoping she wasn’t imposing too much by inviting herself for tea. Emmrich did tell her to find him later, and Calliope did ask Emmrich after dinner if it was okay for her to join, but Calliope’s mind liked to play tricks on her, unpicking every situation with a fine-toothed comb and twisting it to go against Calliope's desires and intentions.   

She could hear a fast clacking against the flagstone floor as Manfred ran to open the door, an excited hiss erupting from his mandible as he gestured for her to enter. A teapot and cups were set up on a table in front of a settee, steam rising. Emmrich rose from his seat as Calliope entered, “Rook! Perfect timing, Manfred just poured the tea.”

Waving her over and guiding her to her seat on the settee, Emmrich bid Manfred thanks as Calliope heard Manfred clamber up the stairs. “I hope I prepared your tea to your liking,” Emmrich said, handing Calliope her teacup and saucer. It certainly looked how she would prepare it; with a small amount of milk and as she took a sip, she noticed a slight sweetness. Emmrich had even paid attention to how much sugar she added to her tea. “It’s... perfect.” A relief washed over Emmrich’s features, and he settled back on the settee with his own brew. They exchanged small anecdotes, from both before and during Calliope's time at the Necropolis, they spoke for so long the fire had started to dim, being neglected by both of them, the pot of tea long finished. Calliope steeled herself as she attempted to bring the conversation to a similar vein to earlier that day. “I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you outside of lectures or Necropolis gossip, Emmrich. I was worried you’d high tail it home when you realised I was a former student of yours.”    

“Well, I didn’t expect a fellow Watcher at all, but you are a very skilled necromancer Rook, you shouldn’t doubt that.”   

“If you said that to adolescent Calliope, I think she would have died happy knowing the Professor she’s infatuated with thought so highly of her.” Calliope braced herself. She finally said it. She had been trying to work her crush into conversation all evening. That was, of course, the point of tea, to come clean, and admit her longstanding feelings. Her doodles in the margins of books and her picking flower petals (he likes me, he likes me not) might actually come to fruition. She had to be honest. She felt bad enough that she had hidden this behind flirting for weeks. Neve and Bellara goaded her at every opportunity to admit how she felt. She had been rehearsing responses to made-up questions all afternoon in anticipation of this evening, of course, none of the scenarios came to be realised.  

Now that she had admitted her feelings, felt like a weight had been lifted, even if her body tensed, waiting for the surely coming rejection. Emmrich reached across to where Calliope’s hand rested on the settee cushion, taking it in his own as he looked into her eyes, “My dear I had guessed that might have been the case. Your cheeks bloom the most delightful shade of pink when you talk to me.” As if on cue Calliope’s cheeks felt hotter, she shied away, trying to hide the flush, but Emmrich tenderly gripped her chin, tilting her face and moving closer so he could study her deepening blush. “Exquisite,” Emmrich murmured, Calliope’s brain mercifully was clear of thought. She had simply transcended into a state of shock. Calliope saw Emmrich’s eyes dart across her face, her eyes, her blush and her lips. She gravitated towards Emmrich, until eventually, their breaths mingled, their faces so close it would only take a few millimetres of movement to close the gap between their lips.   

So, Calliope moved.   

Emmrich’s lips were impossibly soft and tasted of tea. It took Emmrich a second to realise they were indeed kissing before he reciprocated with passion.   

Calliope felt Emmrich’s grip on her chin loosen as the kiss deepened, pulling her from her fervour. With a jolt, she stood up, knee knocking against the table making the tea set clatter, as she backed away. “I... I’m so sorry.” She apologised as she rushed out the door, her fingers grazing over her swollen lips. Emmrich sat, stupefied as Manfred ambulated down the stairs, a questioning hiss reverberating around the room. “I’m not sure Manfred, I’ll speak to Rook tomorrow. Give her some time.” 

[minty-mumbles]

Linked Universe Survey 2023

The long awaited results of the survey. Sorry it took me forever, making graphs is hard.

There were 452 responses to the survey as a whole, which is almost double what we got last year, so thank you to everyone who participated!

If you want to see the raw data, you can find that here. I had thoughts about the data, but compiling that into another post would be too much of a hassle. Feel free to send me asks about it though!

The rest of the post will be under a read more as it it large

Demographics

Other: Demigirl (4), Transmasc (3), Grey genderfluid, Unlabeled, Demiboy, Demiagender

Other: Omnisexual (4), Poly (2), Trixic, Abroromantic or Bellusromantic, Demisexual

General Questions

Other: Quotev, Discord, their own google docs

Other: Discord, Variations of "I haven't posted yet, but I pan to" and "I haven't posted my fics in ages",

Other: Wattpad, Deviantart, Discord

Other: Crochet dolls, Custom dolls, Roleplay blogs (2), Fan translations, Headcanons (2), Piano music

The purple section in the “Warriors vs Warrior” chart is supposed to read “Warrior.” I made a typo.

Favorites and Least Favorites

Selected Free Response Answers

im sorry warriors i just can't play your game (it is very very hard. i am stuck very early on in the game)

I love cats meow meow meow

was extremely tempted to put twilight for least favorite. unfortunately he is my favorite to write from the perspective of (he has taken over most of my wips. help) and that probably counts for something. WILD on the other hand. hooo boy how the hell do i characterize this gargoyle. why is he Like That. least favorite it is

Twiddy

very good fandom to be in :) everybody is very nice

It's a straight up crime that Wars lost the aesthetics poll so quickly. He has such a peak Link design with the best colors. Ugh I'm getting wistful.

FROGS. FROGS. FROGS. ALSO HAPPY PRIDE MONTH. FROGS. FROGS. FROGS. FROGS. FROGS.

I will fight Hylia herself and the next person who implies Twi can't handle spice. If we're going to lean into him being southern/Midwestern, which is an alright stero type for our rancher, please keep in mind the culture you're basing him off. The south and midwest can handle their spice, I assure you. Have you ever had authentic Louisiana gumbo? It will melt you tongue off. Or some good old fashion spicy fried chicken? I promise the real stuff has quite a kick. (In all seriousness, though. It's more important that you're having fun. And even I can admit the idea of Twi being an Ordonian who can't handle his spice is more than a little funny.)

I am an OoT Link edgelord and have been since early 2017. So, in September of that year, when an artist by the name of jojo56830 puts out a lineup of nine different Links and the Hero of Time is there – the oldest, no eye, Hero’s Shade armor? I saw that one sketch and just thought “oh this is gonna be bad.” Yeah of course he has the coolest design. By the way, it’s only a matter of time until Fierce Deity shows up in the comic and I have reason to believe it could be this current Dawn arc. Dawn … Dawn of a New Day … and who brought about the Dawn of a New Day? Fierce Deity. Twilight is recovering but still injured and what will happen if he falls again? Fierce Deity is coming and we need to be prepared. In this essay I will—

Remember that time when someone put the whole script of the bee movie in here? I’m not that dedicated, and I don’t have that time, but let us remember and hope someone else does it again this time. Cause someone is bound too. We’re all crazy enough to do it. Alright, love you and stay hydrated pls!

Hi! I joined this fandom really recent but i’ve always seen LU stuff on pinterest and elsewhere. Only recently have i actually took the time to understand the fandom and get back into LOZ stuff and i adore the characters and story! The more and more fanart, fanfics, and comics i see about the different Links the more i love them all. It’s such a pain to pick just one i like or one i don’t like because they’re all so unique. I love this fandom and hope to get more involved!! Have a wonderful rest of your day :]

Epona is an underrated queen

your mom

I really don't get why Zelda is called Artemis. Athena makes more sense???? It perplexes me

Anyone seeing this should check out Breanna’s E!Wild AU

Something something queer every Link into oblivion!

[sydsaint]

Working on a survivor series fic for the trio so have this to tide y'all over until then.

Summary: Adam Pearce enlists the help of the Smackdown GM and her trio of boyfriends to handle Rhea Ripley and The Judgment Day.

You're sitting in your office enjoying lunch while answering a few work emails when someone knocks on the door.

"Come in." You call out, mouth half-full of food. "Adam? I wasn't expecting to see you today, Pearce. Did I miss an email about a meeting or something?" You swallow your food and glance at your laptop.

"No, no meeting." Pearce shakes his head and shuts the door behind him. "I saw you come in early and was hoping that we could chat. If you're not busy, of course." He explains.

You gesture to the empty seat in front of Adam and he takes a seat. You push your laptop off to the side of your desk and turn your attention to your fellow general manager. "I'm just having lunch, nothing important. So, what's up?" You ask him.

"Well, Y/N, if I'm being completely honest with you, I have a favor to ask of you." Pearce gets straight to the point.

"Oh?" You reply, curiosity piqued. "Alright, what can I do for you?" You ask him.

Pearce hesitates for a moment, unsure if he even wants to ask you for help. But he needs it. So he swallows his pride and gets to his point.

"I'm sure that you've been at least keeping up with Raw these past few months since I took over?" Pearce asks you and you nod. "Well, then you must know that Rhea Ripley and the rest of Judgment Day have been causing me grief." He adds.

"Oh yeah, I don't envy you there, Pearce." You tease him lightheartedly. "Kind of makes you miss dealing with Roman's BS, doesn't it?" You laugh.

Pearce lets out a small chuckle and shakes his head. "Not a chance in hell." He smiles at you. "But back to my point. I know that this must sound terribly desperate and in poor taste on my part. But, to be frank? I'm out of options."

"Alright." You nod. "So, what do you need me for?" You urge your colleague to get to the point already.

"Y/N, I'm here to ask if you'd consider helping me in handling Rhea and the rest of Judgement Day," Pearce explains.

Your eyebrows raise a bit in surprise. "Help you how exactly, Adam?" You prompt him.

"Rhea is the main problem that I'm facing, but as a man, there's only so much I can do when it comes to her behavior. But if a woman was to confront her. Specifically one in a position of power equal to my own. Then I believe that I might have a better chance of reigning her in." He explains.

"So essentially you want me to come over to Raw and put Ripley in her place?" You clarify for yourself. "Knock her down a beg so she's not such a pain in the ass for you all the time?"

Pearce nods and confirms your clarification. You study his face and can tell that there's something more that he'd like to ask you.

"Yes, essentially," Adam confirms. "I was also hoping that you might enlist a certain trio to aid with Damian, Finn, Dominik, and JD." He adds suggestively.

"Right." You crack a smile. "Well, you do seem desperate coming to me for help." You tease Pearce with a smile. "So, I'd love to help out, Adam."

Pearce seems slightly surprised by your willingness to help him out. "Really? Thank you, Y/N." He smiles eagerly at you.

"Of course, Adam. What are friends for? Just let me make a quick phone call." You pick up your phone and dial a number. "Hey, yeah I know I'm at work right now. Listen, I need you to come down to my office right now...Yes for work." You roll your eyes. "Mhm, and bring the two stooges with you. Alright, thanks. Mhm, love you too, bye."

You hang up the phone and turn back to Adam waiting patiently for your conversation to continue. "They'll be here soon." You inform him.

"That fast?" Adam replies.

"What can I say?" You giggle. "They're good boys. Always come when called." You joke.

You chat with Pearce for a while and finish up your lunch. Then, around half an hour later, a knock sounds at the door again.

"Come in!" You shout and turn your attention to the door.

"I grabbed Waller and Theory from the gym. So what's up sweetheart? What did you need all three of us for?" Knight walks into the room first and is quick to spot Adam sitting behind the desk with you. "What's Pearce doing here?"

You wait for Grayson and Austin to both file into the room after Knight. Austin shuts the door behind him and the two turn their attention on you before you speak up.

"Thank you for getting here so fast, Shaun, sweetie. And picking up Gray and Austin for me." You thank him with a smile.

"Yeah, no problem, hun." Knight nods. "So, are you going let us in on what you've got going on here?" He asks you.

Austin and Grayson share a small look before they both nod in agreement with Knight. "Yeah, what's he doing here?" Grayson points a finger at Pearce.

"It's a pleasure seeing you all again." Pearce nods to everyone.

"Pearce and I were just having lunch and discussing some business." You begin to explain the situation. "Adam has been having some trouble with Rhea Ripley and the Judgment Day. And he's requested our, or rather, my help. So, you three are coming to Raw this Monday with me. I'm going to handle Rhea, and you three are going to help Pearce with the rest of her entourage." You explain.

Knight, Waller, and Theory all turn to one another and share a few glances before they all turn back to you and Pearce. "What if we're busy on Monday?" Grayson asks.

"You're not." You reply plainly. "I have all three of your work schedules. And I also know your personal plans for the rest of the month." You remind them. "Austin has a mandatory physical next Wednesday. And Shaun has a PR thing on Tuesday. Besides that? The three of you are mine to order around."

"Well, she's got us there." Knight chuckles. "We'd be happy to help out, Y/N, of course." He grins at you.

You nod and turn to Pearce. "Well then, it looks like we've got a deal then, Adam." You reach out to shake his hand. "We can discuss the details of our little arrangement later. But for now, I'll be seeing you on Monday in Kansas City." You shake his hands firmly.

"Pleasure doing business with you, Y/N." Pearce nods. "I look forward to seeing you all on Monday." He adds before he makes his swift exit from your office.

The door clicks shut and the onslaught of questions starts to pour in. "What did he mean by arrangement?" Austin asks you.

"Just a little trade we've got going on. Nothing you three need to worry about." You reply.

"How are you planning on handling Rhea?" Grayson asks you. "I mean, if Pearce can't keep her in line?"

You smile to yourself and laugh a little. "Oh, I've got my ways." You assure Waller. "Rhea won't be a problem for Adam anymore when I'm done with her, trust me."

"Which one of us are you planning on traveling with this time?" Knight asks his own question.

You shrug and glance at your laptop when it pings with a new message. "Probably you so I don't have to share a room with those two again." You tease Grayson and Austin. "They get all possessive when it comes to who gets to share the bed with me." You giggle. 

"Now hold on a second." Grayson protests.

"Yeah! We can get along for the night." Austin agrees. "Why don't you travel with us, Y/N?" He whines with Grayson.

You roll your eyes playfully and shake your head. "You two also get up to the most nonsense when you're on the road." You remind them. "And I don't need distractions when I'm trying to work?"

"Oh, so I'm not a distraction now?" Knight chimes in.

"You're plenty distracting, sweetie." You reply. "Just in a different way." You assure him. "Now all of you out! I've got another meeting soon." You usher the trio toward the door.

Austin, Grayson, and Knight all nod and head for the door, knowing better than to interfere with work. "We'll see you later, Y/N." Knight waves before he steps out the door.

"Yeah, take care, babe," Austin adds.

"We'll see you later, gorgeous." Grayson winks at you.

[railroad-migraine]

Hey Poet ♥️ I had to put my bird and companion of 12 years to sleep earlier today... I was hoping it would be okay to request Molly, Kingsley, Ashton and Caduceus comforting a Ranger SO (friend in Cad’s case) who had their beast companion pass away? I hope it’s not too grim of a prompt, thanks a lot either way! And thank you for what you do, your lovely writing brings joy to many people :)

Oh darling I'm so sorry. We also recently had a family pet put to sleep and it is very hard, but know that you provided your lil friend a wonderful life and that's something to make it easier as time passes 🩶

Comforting Ranger!GN!Reader

Ashton 💚

Is the shoulder to cry on that you've always needed. They're a strong presence, someone reliable to lean on, something physical and real to keep you grounded and help you not lose yourself in feelings.

They say they have difficulty with words, but Ashton surprises even himself with the soft tone and even softer things he offers you. Little phrases of encouragement, of how things will get better, and how you're not going to carry this alone. You have him and friends who care about you - he ignores the hot feeling in his face when your teary eyes meet his upon the confession - and pulls you into their side with a soft "I got you."

-

Caduceus 💜

Arguably the best person on the list to console you after losing someone you held dear. If it's something you'd like, he'll organise a little ceremony - allow memories of the good and fun moments shared with your companion to take centre stage. It's a happy occasion, with friends in attendance, a celebration of their life, their love, and how they made a home in your heart.

Cad takes time out of his day to sit with you, share tea and treats and the quiet tranquility of his porch, content to give you silent support but even more eager to offer counsel if that's what you seek. He understands how you're feeling, and guides you through them with careful, attentive ease.

-

Molly 💜

He knows what it's like to mourn a life, be that of a friend's or the past that he will never truly know. He makes sure that as you're processing this change in your life, that you continue to look after yourself. He ensures that you eat, even if you don't feel hungry. He washes your hair and cleans your face, helps you change into fresh clothes, coaxes you outdoors to feel warm sunlight on your skin. He wants to remind you to keep living, to enjoy it just as your pet beast did.

Life moves on. It always will. Your animal came into your life unexpectedly, just as you came into Molly's life. He's there for you, to get you through the day, the week, the month, and beyond. It happens gradually, as all wounds heal, but eventually he sees you smile at him more and he knows it hurts a little less. He smiles back, all teeth and pride for you.

-

Kingsley 💜

He's still discovering the big emotions that come with experiencing life. Grief is one of them. He fumbles in the beginning, and is scared to say anything in the fear of hurting you further, but he feels more confident after you melt into his arms and let him hold you for who knows how long. He realises later that a distraction can help further along healing.

So that's what Kingsley does. He spends more time with you, takes you sailing and has you steer the ship (with his professional supervision of course). He drags you into dances along the deck and sings you songs before bed. He holds your hand as you fall asleep, and tells you how grateful he is that you're there with him. Thanks you for giving him that - just as you had given your familiar that.

[matan4il]

Happy Pride Month and Jerusalem Day to you and of my fellow all queer Jews!

Israel improves the lives of queer people outside its borders and local area too, as Israeli companies manufacture hormones for HRT!

Hi Nonnie!

Thank you for the supportive message, and happy pride to you, too!

You're right, Israel does manufacture HRT hormones, including some innovations that were specifically invented here and therefore you can only buy from Israeli manufacturers. These help trans people, but also others with hormonal issues (for example, women going through menopause). Generally, there is so much good that benefits millions around the world, it's infuriating to see how much people are willing to ignore just to get to demonize the Jewish state.

At the same time, a part of me wants to say, fuck it. Israel deserves to exist even if we had zero productivity and contribution to the welfare of people around the world. There are so many countries that have done nothing innovative to help the global community, and yet no one argues their right to exist. For that matter, Palestinians have not yet had a single unique contribution to the world, in terms of innovation, of sending aid to other countries (as Israel repeatedly does), of doing anything as a country for others, and yet NO ONE discusses that, when people protest globally for the right of Palestinians to have their own state.

Jews, including queer ones, we deserve to have our own country in our own ancestral land, period.

I hope you have a great pride month, take care of yourself! xoxox

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

[amyispxnk]

You're perfect, baby.

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: insecure reader gets comforted by our favourite man Joel (SFW, comfort, fluff, insecurity with body image, some swears?, pet names 'sweetheart, darling, baby, honey', ..Pls lmk if I've missed any). Btw this is Jackson era because it's my favourite era

Note- this is pretty self-indulgent lmao. Hope it isn't weird- idk. Also there's a little too much backstory tbh, sorry! My fingers just kept typing and I ended up with this.

Word count- 2.2k

Do not copy this work pls and thank ueww

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

You stood in front of the mirror, sighing in frustration and sadness. It was the same thing every time. No matter what exercises and diets and other random shit you tried, it was never enough.

Your insecurities were suffocating enough, your appearance constantly on your mind, not being able to go more than 30 minutes without needing to check how you looked. Needing to make sure you still looked good enough to even be seen by people, to just go outside.

But you didn't tell anyone about them either. You didn't tell people why you never showed your skin or why you never wore anything without a thick coat on top of it, trying to cover up your 'terrible' figure at all times. You didn't dress up and wear dresses, not like everyone else did. At parties you'd just stand to the side, awkwardly drinking and talking whilst watching all the other women dancing and laughing and smiling. They were so beautiful, you just.. weren't. At all.

Or so you thought.

That was all until one day, a man and a little girl on horseback came to Jackson. Tommy had made a huge deal of it, and they definitely drew some attention in the town square that morning. You thought his name was Joel.. Yeah, Joel. Joel Miller.

He was a cold man. He didn't open up, didn't talk to people - except for Tommy and Ellie, you noticed - and definitely didn't do relationships.

You couldn't help but fall for him. Who wouldn't? The other ladies made it very clear how attractive they found him at the bar, practically ogling at him when he walked past. You did too, but more quietly, more subtly (you hoped), for you knew you didn't have a chance. You didn't have a chance with.. average-looking men, men who were pieces of shit, men who didn't care - so how could you have a chance with him?

He was beautiful, first of all, with his salt and pepper hair, tan skin with freckles and lines from age decorating it. His beard was not too thick, just some stubble, and it looked perfect on his face. He walked not with intense pride, but with confidence. He knew people feared him, and he didn't care about it. It was good, that's what he was going for.

Not only was he beautiful, but you knew he was kind. Sure, he seemed aggressive, but that was only at the start. It only took a month or so for him to finally loosen up. You didn't even see him that much, only meeting for the occasional patrol, but when you did you could tell. You saw it when he'd start conversations with you. Saw it when he'd offered to teach you things.. Saw it when he walked up to you that night, and started talking to you. Actually talking to you. Outside of patrol, or any sort of formal manner. Just talking to you at one of the parties in the Tipsy Bison.

"Hey, sweetheart." He had said with a small smile, leaning against the wall beside you.

You were surprised to hear him talking to you, initiating a conversation with you for no real reason. "Hi Joel." You had smiled back. It took a few minutes of awkward small talk before you kind of fell into a smooth conversation. Talking about everything before the Outbreak, before Jackson, what you used to do (this is when you learned he was a contractor, and you'd be lying if you said the visual didn't drive you crazy-), and all of that.

When Tommy saw the two of you, saw Joel actually smiling at you and looking at you with such tenderness in his eyes, he didn't let him live it down. He poked and teased Joel when they were leaving, asking about his 'new girl'. Joel told him to fuck off after that, but somehow the two of you ended up on patrol together almost every single time after that.

The both of you figured it was some sort of elaborate plan Tommy had concocted, to get you together just to give Joel an 'I was right all along, I told you so, I knew it' kind of moment - but neither of you actually minded. You were excited, and literally over the moon when he got closer and closer to you. You were friends. And a few weeks after that, he was at your door, looking nervous. Joel Miller. Looking fucking nervous to talk to you.

You had invited him in for a drink, sitting down with him on the couch and waiting for him to explain why he was at your door at 11pm on a random Thursday. Then he said it, said he really liked you, and wanted to go out with you, and thought you were really sweet and pretty and he didn't think he knew anyone more perfect than you. Of course you said yes, and when he left you were practically SQUEALING with excitement, running up to your room to pick out an outfit and plan for the date.

That was how it all started. Now you were here, a few months into a relationship with Joel. You felt like the luckiest woman in the world when he asked you to be his, and you probably were. He was the most caring and loving man you think you'd ever met, he was always thinking of you, always there for you, always listening to you and making you laugh and smile- he was the perfect man.

But there was one thing you still hadn't told him.

It was the thing that brought you to this very mirror at least ninety times a day, that clouded your thoughts every second, that had been with you for as long as you could remember, and was honestly driving you insane. Your damn insecurities.

Now, you weren't one to cry. Not after all the shit you'd been through. It was too vulnerable for you, it left you too exposed. You didn't like that feeling.

So you kept everything bottled up, no matter how close you were with someone, you could just never actually tell them anything. It felt horrible, and it was definitely bad communication, but you couldn't physically do it.

This time, you stood there for too long. You looked for too long. Nitpicked your reflection for too long. You were trying to fix it and trying to make yourself just look better in any way, your mind having a million thoughts racing around it as you tried to figure out why you looked this way, how you could fix it, what you could do better.

You didn't even realise you were still staring until he knocked on your door, calling out your name and breaking you out of the trance. Your thoughts often got the better of you like that.

You threw on a large shirt and some sweatpants before walking downstairs, creaking the door open.

"What's up?" You said through the crack. You didn't really want him to see you like this- you didn't look good, you hadn't prepared or gotten yourself ready.

"Can I come in? Got ya somethin' special." He said with a grin.

He did that a lot. He'd go out on patrol and get stuff that reminded him of you, stuff he thought you'd like or find funny. You kept the mug he'd found for you with a design of a cat wearing sunglasses on it, and kept the comic books too. You also kept the jacket which he found and somehow knew how much you'd love it, the one you wore out literally every time you left the house.

You let him and, closing the door and making your way to the living room where you sat down on the couch, crossing your legs beneath you.

He had a little box which he put on his lap, hands reaching for the cover.

"Okay, I know I normally get you some real dumb shit- but I saw this, and I just had to see you in it." He said as he pulled a dress out.

It was gorgeous. It looked to be made of a satiny material and was a light pink colour, with spaghetti straps and a slit on the right leg.

"Joel, it- it's beautiful." You spoke softly, reaching out to take the dress from him and standing up.

"Go on then, try it on." He said, smiling at the look of awe and appreciation on your face.

But then the look changed. It got a little harder, more sad.

"I don't know.. I don't think-" You didn't know how to explain it without revealing anything. You'd be making yourself too vulnerable, you scolded yourself internally, 'he'll think you're weird and pathetic, just try it on.'

So you took the dress in both hands and smiled at him briefly before going upstairs to change. When you got into it, you looked in the mirror and.. it didn't feel good. You didn't feel pretty. And surely you weren't. It didn't look good on you. You were sure it would look good on anyone but you. Clothes just never fit on your figure nicely, never made you look good or feel good, because you weren't. You didn't look good, and you never would. That's how it was going to be now and forever. Joel would eventually move on from you when he realised you weren't pretty enough, when someone else turned up who looked better. You were surprised noone had yet, surprised he wanted you in the first place. How long would it take for him to leave you, how long until-

"Sweetheart?" His cautious voice sounded as he opened the door slowly. You were crying without even realising it. Well, shit. This wasn't gonna be an easy conversation.

"Um, yeah?" You sniffed, hands rushing to wipe the tears off of your face.

He walked in and turned you to face him, brows knitting with worry when he saw the dried tears on your face. "Baby what's wrong?" He murmured, hands cupping your cheeks gently.

"'s nothing, really. I um- I like the dress, thank you." You were trying to avoid the question entirely, which didn't really work.

"If you don't like it, just tell me.. I can probably go find a new one for ya anyway." Joel offered, trying to figure out what was really wrong as his thumb brushed over your cheek comfortingly.

"It's just- I-" You sighed in frustration. Fuck it. Just say it and get it done with. If he thinks it's weird and stupid then you can cry some more later.

"I don't look good enough." You finally admitted, voice barely a whisper. "I don't look good enough, ever."

He stopped any movement and looked at you for a moment, before speaking again.

"What are you talkin' about? You- baby, you're gorgeous. All the damn time."

"But, everyone else is so much better and I just- No matter how much I try, it never makes me look prettier. I'm just stuck like this and I fucking hate it, Joel." You could feel the tears begging to burst free as you spoke. You were terrified to even tell him this, it was so overwhelming actually saying anything about how you felt aloud.

"C'mere." He said as he pulled you into a tight hug, stroking your hair and pressing a kiss to your hairline before continuing.

"Don't ever say things like that 'bout yourself, honey. I don't care what anyone else says or has ever said, or even what you wanna say 'bout yourself, you're perfect. On the inside and outside. You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Don't matter what you're wearin' or anythin' like that. Fuck- you could wear a damn hotdog costume and I'd still be droolin' at the sight of ya." Joel said with a soft chuckle, making you laugh slightly too with another sniff.

He loosened his arms around you and let you step back a bit, before kissing you gently and wiping another tear that had fallen from your eyes off of your face.

"I don't know how long it's gonna take me to convince you, but I just want you to know that I think you're the prettiest lady I've ever seen.. some of the boys 'round here certainly think that too." He said the last bit a little quieter, looking to the side with a flicker of anger in his eyes when he remembered just how eager a group of boys were to get their grubby fuckin' hands on you. As if.

You weren't exactly surprised by his response, you knew he was a good person. Good boyfriend, all of that. He'd have a good, kind response to this. But at the same time you were surprised, surprised because of your own issues making you believe that Joel would turn away from you, thinking you were strange or too difficult to deal with and leave you on the spot.

"'m sorry. I love you, Joel." You said quietly after a moment, looking back up at him.

"I love you too, sweetheart."

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

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider liking, commenting and/or reblogging

Requests are open as always 💞

Love you byeeeeeee

[ucetheones]

Worked Up | Jey Uso x Single Mother!Reader

tw: mentions of an abusive ex, not detailed. My other fics are still in the works, I just can't let go of an idea once I get it. It's a curse.

(Also writing in second person is weird and I feel like I suck at it!! But whatever, enjoy!! <3)

When you and Jey first started talking, you were hesitant to tell him about your son, your pride and joy.

Your son, Joshia, was the driving force in you finally leaving your abusive ex, Tyler. 

Finding out you were pregnant was one of the scariest days of your life, you no longer had just yourself to worry about. Now there was a life growing inside of you, meaning you couldn't afford to risk your body dealing with Tyler. 

He was too dangerous to outright confront, so you did what you thought was best, and left him a few days after finding out.

That was over three years ago. Thanks to your estranged sister, Samantha, you found a steady job, and a place to stay.

Working with your older sister was strange at first, but you two easily fell into a rhythm like no other. It helped that you were doing your dream job. It might not seem like a huge deal to anyone else, but doing the hair, makeup and wardrobe for WWE Superstars was truly an amazing job. It required skill that most did not have, it made you valuable. Needed.

It was at work where you met Jey. You two hit it off almost instantly, and soon found yourselves flirting. That flirting evolved into talking pretty quickly.

It was Sam that brought up introducing Jey to Joshia, though not without commenting on how similar Jey's real name was to his.

With a roll of your eyes, you sipped your coffee and sighed.

"What if he freaks on me and bails? Work would be so awkward."

Sam squinted at you, lightly scoffing. "You know Jey loves kids, right? I think he'd like Joshia. You're thinkin' way too hard, Jey isn't that deep.

Plus, I love my nephew, but girl…if I have to watch another season of Miraculous Ladybug, I may die!"

You couldn't think of any rebuttal, so you just flicked a piece of your pastry at her. "Shut up, I ain't even ask for your opinion. And that show is good, admit it."

"You did, but whatever!" You can tell she agrees about the show being interesting, but won't give you the satisfaction. 

That conversation was almost a month ago, and the entire time you were going back and forth with yourself on how to bring it up to him.

Sam wouldn't be willing to babysit while you went on dates with Jey forever, and hiring a nanny to work longer hours than you currently do felt like a terrible move; so you knew you'd have to tell him sooner or later.

You just didn't anticipate sooner being so soon. 

You had a week off from work, as you weren't needed for hair and makeup or costume design, you decided to use some of your remaining vacation days.

Your original plan was to tell Jey about Joshia and hope that the week away from one another would be enough time for him to decide whether things were worth continuing. 

You hadn't counted on Joshia getting sick, or Jey showing up at your door on the first day of your vacation. 

Your hair was all over the place, your clothes were a mess, and Joshia was perched on your hip, wailing loudly into your ear, despite all attempts at soothing him.

When you answered the door, Jey's expression was visibly confused. You wanted to slam the door. 

You wanted to pretend you still had a say in whether you told him about your son, but instead remained frozen in place.

"You babysitting or something?"

Before you could answer, your son was whining. "Mama, hurts…" 

The very evident discomfort in his voice had you turning away from the man in your doorway, your hand rubbing up and down Joshia's back in an effort to calm him.

"I know, baby, I know. The medicine will help, we just have to give it time." 

His crying dies down considerably at your words, but you can tell he doesn't feel any better and for a moment you consider taking him to the hospital. If for no other reason than to have an excuse to get Jey out if things turned south. Not that you thought they would, but you could never be too safe.

Jey clears his throat softly, and your head whips back to look at him.

"He's cute, Uce. What's his name?"

His tone is softer than it was previously, there's a warm smile on his lips. You can tell he has other questions, but is saving them for the moment.

"His name is Joshia."

At your response, Jey raises a brow. 

"Yeah, yeah, I know; your names are similar. Sam won't let me hear the end of it."

It's when Jey laughs that you realize he's still outside, so you step aside and watch as he slips into the house. 

It's the first time he's ever gotten to come inside, you usually meet him at the front steps or at whatever hotel you were staying at for work, whilst Joshia was usually with the hired nanny. The nanny, Riah, spent most of the week with him, before dropping Joshia off to your father until you were done for the week.

From there, Sam helped you.

It was never easy, and sometimes you considered quitting, if only to spend more time with your son; but when those doubts came up, Sam would quickly shut them down. The first few times she thought it was financially challenging to pay an overnight babysitter, and had offered repeatedly to help you pay, but you reassured her that wasn't the case. It was just difficult doing this without a partner. You never wanted Sam to think you were ungrateful for her sacrifices, because you were anything but, so it wasn't often you brought up your worries.

Maybe if Tyler was a better man, you could've trusted him to know you were pregnant, and ultimately know his son, but you'd given up on that pipe dream shortly after Joshia was born. He would never be allowed to see him, if you had any say, but you knew one day he'd start asking about his father, and you weren't sure if you could lie to him when the time came.

Right now though, none of that mattered. Because the man you were slowly falling for, was in your home. He was seeing your son for the first time, without any clue he existed to begin with.

Toys littered the floor in some places, there were blankets all over the couch and your coffee table was covered in various sippy cups, from throughout the day.

It should've embarrassed you, but Jey seemed completely unfazed by it all.

He seemed to almost welcome it.

From then on, the bulk of your vacation was spent with Jey, the two of you taking care of Joshia together. It was weird at first, Jey hadn't really interacted with Joshia at all, instead opting to do things like preparing meals, bottles and whatever else needed to be done so that you could focus on Joshia.

On Wednesday, you'd fallen asleep on the couch after putting Joshia to bed, Jey was in the kitchen cleaning up. 

At least he had been. But when you woke up from your impromptu nap, he was nowhere to be seen.

You were afraid he left at first, but instead of worrying about it, you went to check on Joshia. He was your number one priority, even when he was starting to feel better.

When you entered your son's room, you quickly stopped in your tracks.

Jey was sitting in the rocking chair in the corner of Joshia's room, cradling the small boy in his arms as the chair swayed softly. When you stepped closer, you saw that they were both asleep, so you grabbed a blanket and draped it over them; deciding you'd wake them up to transition to beds after a quick shower. 

Leaning down, you press a kiss to Joshia's head and then Jey's before turning to step out the room. Jey's sleepy rumble pausing your movements.

"You ain't gettin' rid of me now, Y/N. You know that law, he fell asleep on my chest, I'm stuck here forever." When you look over at him, he's smiling at you. You smile back, shaking your head.

"I'm pretty sure that 'law' is about cats, Josh."

Jey playfully glares at you, "nah, it's about cute two year olds that drool on your shirt, too Mamas. It's what life is all about."

 You raise your eyebrow, humming. "I'll take your word for it then. And a shower, I'm gonna go take a shower."

You watch as he shifts in the chair, readjusting himself and Joshia so they're more comfortable, before nodding. "I ain't tryna' rush you, but…hurry up. I wanna cuddle, and my back starting to hurt."

You detect the slight whine in his voice, a small chuckle leaving you. "You got it, Chief." 

He sucks his teeth, "man, go wash ya' ass." Just to annoy him a little, you stand there unmoving. 

He waits a beat before huffing. "Babyyyy, my ass is gonna go numb."

"I'll massage it, don't worry."

He laughs a bit too loud at that, if the way Joshia wiggles in his sleep and huffs is anything to go by. His tiny cheeks filled with air before he settled down again.

"See, even little man is on my side."

You decide not to mention that he'd almost woken Joshia up, instead you raise your hand defensively. 

"I'm goin', I'm goin' no need for you two to get all worked up, jeez!"

You playfully flip your hair before scurrying out the room, laughing to yourself at the sound of Jey's distant chuckle of disbelief. 

You were worried to tell Jey about Joshia for nothing it seems. They would get along just fine, Jey hadn't run for the hills and had actually stuck around to help you take care of your unwell son. He had no obligation to you, yet he chose to put himself in this position. 

He wanted this, he wanted you. 

[pubbamoon]

Can you please help me understand my matrix chart 🙏. I’d really appreciate it, it’s so hard to find information on it. What are the major themes or characteristics within my chart? By looking at my chart, what kind of person am I OR what kind of person will I become? THANK YOU SO SO MUCH

Hello! Thanks for trusting me and asking me this question. I hope that my explanation of your Destiny Matrix chart may resonate with you and your self being. So, without further delay, let's get into it.

So, you have the number 7 at the center of your Destiny Matrix chart, which is the most important number of your chart, because it represents you and who you are. This number is associated with your Solar Plexus chakra (Manipura), which talks about confidence, power and identity and is filled with the yellow color. In numerology, number 7 is ruled by the shadow planet Ketu (or by the planet Neptune if you use only Western astrology), which represents spirituality, detachment and seeking the truth of our lives. Number 7 itself represents a balance between the spiritual and the material world. The 7th card in Major Arcana is The Chariot which might influence your identity and life. The Chariot card is about strong will, movement, victory and seeking our true self. This card is related to the Cancer sign and Cancer is a summer solstice in northern hemisphere, reaching a climax, an extreme and a full potential and also manifesting and achieving our goals, which The Chariot is also about. This is why the planet Jupiter is exalted in Cancer, by the way. By saying that, you might be an ambitious person who strives for success and has a tendency to achieve and to manifest your own goals. The negative sides of that arcana might be the lack of direction in your life, being egoistic, aggressive and vengeful.

While looking at your chart, I can guess that you were born on May 4th, 1997. Your day of birth is number 4, your month of birth is number 5 (May), your year of birth might be 1997 since you're 27 right now and your life path might be 17/8. Number 4 (The Emperor) represents your external presence and how people see you. With this number/arcana, people may see you as someone who is a natural leader and who tends to command. You may naturally posses a masculine energy, regardless of your gender. Number 5 (The Hierophant) represents your talents and gifts, since it's placed at the upper side of your chart, meaning that you might be naturally good at speaking, writing and teaching others. Both of these arcanas (4 - The Emperor and 5 - The Hierophant) are connected to your Crown chakra, which represents your spiritual mission and is filled with the purple color.

Your karmic tale is the 6-5-17 code, which is titled as Pride. In a past life, you probably were a very talented and successful individual and you likely saw yourself as someone who was more superior than other people around you. So in your current incarnation, it's important to become humble and to start to work hard in order to achieve your goals. It is not desirable for you to stay too prideful in your current lifetime, because you may likely face humiliation.

Your love line is the 6-9-21 code, while your money line is the 21-9-15 code. Your partner might be intelligent, open-minded, communicative and wise person who could teach you a lot of things. You can learn a lot with your partner. Speaking of your career path, you might be a scientist, programmer, engineer or work in any field where you can use your analytical skills (9 - The Hermit). You may also travel a lot (21 - The World) and take some risk (15 - The Devil) while working. Take it as it resonates.

Now I want to look to your chakras.

Crown chakra: 4 (The Emperor) & 5 (The Hierophant)

Third Eye chakra: 15 (The Devil) & 17 (The Star)

Throat chakra: 11 (Strength) & 12 (The Hanged Man)

Heart chakra: 18 (The Moon) & 19 (The Sun)

Solar Plexus chakra: 7 (The Chariot)

Sacral chakra: 6 (The Lovers) & 15 (The Devil)

Root chakra: 17 (The Star) & 8 (Justice)

To conclude and to actually answer your question, you're an ambitious and goal-oriented type of person who has a natural leadership skills and a talent in communicating, bringing people together and in healing others (the 5-17-12 code at the upper side of your chart which represents your talent and gifts). You might be naturally good at business and you could work on your own successfully. In near future, you would become a kind of person who is humble and works hard consistently if you healed yourself from karmic lessons. I can see you as independent individual who does a lot of things by yourself and who can be confident and humble at the same time.

I think that could be it. I really hope that you can understand everything I said and that it's not confusing. If you have some questions or you think that I missed something, ask me that question and I'll answer that. You can also book a private reading with me if you want to and if you find me comfortable too. The link is in my bio.

Best regards,

Paky McGee