#crying for an hour in the car yesterday and all i got this morning was my mum demanding i apologise 😁

[angelgrian]

god i feel so fundamentally alone

[erwinsvow]

knocked up too young and wearing a glittery diamond ring on your left hand, you had settled nicely into the role of mrs. cameron. it wasn’t tough, not a hard position to play in the slightest—rafe, or rather your husband—made everything nice and easy for you.

it seemed like it was his biggest desire come true, making sure you and his little girl were taken care of. he liked it actually, more than he admitted, knowing the two of you were fast asleep in bed when he left for work in the morning, doing nothing but relaxing throughout the day.

in fact, he had decided the second you had tearfully confessed that you were pregnant that this was the sort of life you were meant for, the kind of life he was going to give you. you were so scared, he can remember it like it was yesterday—your watery eyes and wet cheeks, the way your hands shook when you pulled out the test to show him.

“i-i-i’m so sorry, i, i thought the pills were enough, everyone says it’s enough-” you were stammering and crying your way into exhausation, something he definitely didn’t like. 

“s’okay, kid. nothin’ to cry about.” he was formulating his plan already, being proactive in all matters, thinking ahead to marriage licenses and car seats while you stared down at the positive stick in your palm.

“you’re.. you’re not mad, rafe?” the way you look at him, the world stops spinning. why would he be mad?

“hey, s’done,” he says, hands on your shoulders to steady you, bringing you to the edge of the bed to take a seat. he takes the pregnancy test from your hands, looking down at it himself. “it already happened. can’t take it back. no point in cryin’ over it.” 

when you look up with even more tears in your eyes, he’s half convinced he’s said the wrong thing—but it doesn’t faze him, he keeps going.

“hey, hey. what, you thought i wouldn’t take care of you? this is my kid too.”

“i know, i just, i thought you wouldn’t be okay.. with it. having it.” that’s the first and only time he got stern with you through this whole pregnancy.

“hey, don’t talk like that. this is our baby. there’s no question ‘bout havin’ it.” you nod up at him, tears drying as you steady yourself, regain a little composure knowing rafe’s not mad about this little accident. “y’okay now?” you nod again. “good, call your parents. tell ‘em we’re getting married soon.” 

“wh-rafe!” 

but, like how most things were with rafe, he called the shots and you listened. the two of you got married shortly after, before you were even showing. anyone who even attempted to comment on the hastiness of everything shut up the second rafe stared at them.

you’d be a liar to say you didn’t like it, a fool if you didn’t appreciate how rafe was to you.

he stepped up in every way, better than you could have even tried to put together in your imagination. a place was purchased and had slowly started to become home, with a crib that rafe assembled by himself—though it had taken hours and ended up with the instruction papers all crumbled up in a corner—and baby proofed cabinets and sockets. you laugh watching rafe try to install the baby gate on the staircase.

“you know that’s for when they start crawling, right?” you giggle, a hand on your very pregnant belly.

“shut up. m’being proactive. gonna have no time once she actually gets here and we’re runnin’ around changing diapers and makin’ formula and shit.” 

you’re only a touch surprised with how well-versed he is with all the baby stuff, though you appreciate it more and more since you’re still a little confused and overwhelmed. he makes it all easy, from the pregnancy cravings he runs around to find for you to the pretty pink walls in the nursery. he even satisfies all your other cravings, like around month six when there was nothing you wanted more than rafe's dick in every position you could think of.

when his daughter actually comes into the world, the two of you are a mess of emotions and thoughts, but there’s only one rafe really cares about. when can he give you another one?

it doesn’t take long for him to start trying again—trying to convince you that the two of you can handle two, that little kids need siblings their age. the baby’s only six months old but he’s convinced it’ll be better to have them all young at the same time rather than waiting—at least that’s the line he feeds you.

“no, rafe, they’re gonna be like irish twins. it’s so embarassing,” you say next to him in bed, staring up at your husband. 

“what’s that?”

“when you have two babies that aren’t even a year apart.”

“oh. that’s a thing? good, at least there’s a name for it. i’ll get you a book on it, since that’s what we’re doin’.”

and try as you might, even you can’t resist rafe for long, not when he’s taking such good care of you and just wants to give you another baby with his blue eyes and your pretty hair. you end up in the same position that got you into this whole situation—your knees folded to your chest and eyes rolling back while rafe slams into you. 

“don’t worry, baby,” he breathes into your ear, low and quiet since the baby’s sleeping in the other room. “i’ll get y’knocked up again. won’t have to think about a thing in this world except my kids.”

it’s a shame you get pregnant so quickly—rafe was so fun when his only thought revolved around fucking you full of his cum. 

“well, s’not gonna be irish twins. too far apart,” rafe says, looking at the photos from the doctor’s appointment.

“no, it’s just regular twins.” you don’t think you’ve ever seen rafe so happy.

[classyrbf]

DO I LOOK LIKE HIM! #2 — MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...all his life it was just him and his mother, his father nowhere to be seen or found, vanished, a ghost. No one ever spoke a word of him, he didn’t even know his name. But deep down he begs for answers as his mother always said that he looked just like ‘him’

INFO...megumi x mom!reader, toji x reader, angst, family issues/trauma, absent father, implications of suicidal thoughts, talks of depression, toji is an assassin/in a gang, implications of murder, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

part 1

It was a chilly Saturday morning. The birds chirped as snow fell from the sky, laying a thick blanket across the trees and ground. Megumi was still asleep while you cooked breakfast for him like you always did. His favorite being eggs, hash browns and bacon. Two weeks ago you could’ve sworn your relationship with your son was ruined, came crashing down when he found out about his father. Toji Fushiguro. Though, it only seems like the situation only brought you closer than ever. He kept asking you about him, what he was really like, how he talked, what he used to wear, did he play any sports. He asked everything. And you told him everything.

You didn’t forget one detail about Toji. From the fifteen years that he’s been gone, you still remember every detail on his face like it was just yesterday. You remember the exact clothes he was wearing the night he left and you remember the look in his eyes when he walked out the door while you pleaded for him not to go. Fifteen years and it still breaks your heart to remember. Sometimes you wished you forgotten about him. Every since then you haven’t been with anyone else. You’ve tried and failed. Went on dates, went out to clubs and bars, whatever it was, but no one was him. No one was your Toji.

Some of your high school friends live happy lives, married, nice house and car with a big family and of course the family pet. But you never got your fairytale ending. You didn’t get the easy way like everyone else. It was just you and your son the entire time and whatever hardships you endured, it was for him. After Toji left you fell into a depression. You never left the house unless it was to get groceries or other essentials, but otherwise you were cooped up. It was just you and your son. Crying yourself to sleep every night seemed like the only option you had at that time. Wasting hours trying to call Toji only for it to go straight to voicemail. You prayed he come back for you two. But he didn’t. Years and years went by and you lost hope. You believed he was dead and maybe he was.

You loved Megumi so much. Everything you did was for him, every battle fought. He was the reason you kept going. He couldn’t grow up without a mother and a father. He doesn’t know that he’s saved your life.

“Mom?” You hear your sons groggy voice as he walks into the kitchen. You glance over your shoulder and laugh at the way he stands there, his hair messy and one of his eyes barely open.

“Morning, Megs. I’m just making you breakfast.” You smile. He hums in response, turning back around and dragging his feet into the bathroom. Even down to the mannerisms he acts exactly like him. You shake your head with a laugh, turning the stove off and grabbing his plate to toss the scrambled eggs on top. “Megs, your food is on the table when you’re done!” You shout. You run over to the fridge, grabbing the orange juice and pouring him a glass when the doorbell rings. “Hold on!”

Putting the juice away, you walk over to the door with the glass in hand. “Who is it?” You ask.

“It’s me.” A voice speaks. It almost sounds recognizable, but not. Your brows furrow while undoing the locks and when you open the door, the frigid air cuts through the warmth of your house and surrounds you.

“You must have the wrong—” As you look up, your eyes widen and the glass drops from your hair, shattering against the wooden floor. Your mouth opens to say something but not a word comes out. It was like you were stuck, frozen. Tears filled your eyes as you took in the man who was standing in front of you. “Toji…?” You utter, bringing a shaky hand up to your mouth.

“Hi, sweetheart.” He grew slightly taller, his hair shorter and you can see the slight wrinkles in his face. He was a lot more muscular too, but nonetheless he still looked like him.

“Oh my god!” You jump into his arms, hugging him tightly. “Toji!” You sobbed. Being in his embrace felt so natural despite how long it’s been. He hugged you back, clenching his eyes shut as he breathed in your scent.

“Mom?! What was that?!” Megumi came rushing out the bathroom running towards where he heard the glass break. Instead, he halted in his steps when he saw the familiar face he only recently learned from photos. “Dad?”

Toji opened his eyes, his expression dropping when he saw Megumi standing there in front of him. You removed yourself from his arms, turning to see your son standing there with tears in his eyes. “Megs, it’s your dad.” You smiled, wiping your tears.

And Toji couldn’t believe what he was seeing. It was like he was looking at a younger version of himself. But he couldn’t wrap his head around it. He knows it’s been fifteen years, but he was still expecting to see his two year old son walking towards him. Toji stepped into the house, slowly walking towards Megumi, hesitating to say or do anything until Megumi jumped into arms. “Dad!” He cried.

Toji clung to his son, hot tears streaming down his cheeks. “I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” He muttered against his hair. “Please forgive me.” He breathed. You stood there with pursed lips watching the two of them reunited, but hearing Toji’s apologies broke your heart. “I never wanted to leave you. You understand me?” Toji pulled Megumi away so that he was looking at him. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“Ive missed you too.” Megumi nodded his head wiping his tears. “Mom told me. She told me everything. I don’t blame you, dad.” He sniffled, shaking his head. Toji looked towards you his eyes softening. It’s like you could see everything within him. All the regret, the sadness, the anger he’s been holding within him for all this time.

He stepped towards you, cupping your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours. “You still look so beautiful.” He smiled. “I never once stopped thinking about you.” He said, holding back tears. “You and Megs were always with me. I’m sorry for leaving you, baby.” He hugged you.

It was hard not to cry. You couldn’t hold in your emotions. Not anymore. Everything that you’ve been holding back was finally letting out. You missed him. You missed seeing him with Megumi. You missed his voice, his scent, his everything. “It was so hard, Toji.” You cried. “I needed you. We needed you.”

“I know, I know.” He kissed the top of your head, gently rubbing your back. “Be angry with me, do whatever you want to me. I’m just happy to have you both back.”

You could never hate him. That was never a thought in your head. You could never hate the man you love. All you could do was understand him and his pain. He was hurting just as much as you. He left to protect you and your son. “I thought you were dead.” Your voice broke through your sobs. “I thought…”

“Shhh, shhh, I’m here now,” he whispered. “I’m right here.” He kissed you again. “Come here, little man.” Toji opened his arm, allowing Megumi to hug him.

Toji thought he’d never live to see this day. He began losing hope, drowning in his fears and bad choices. When he left, he remembered your cries, carrying that hurt in his heart for years. He only dug himself into a deeper hole trying to get out of it. Trying to protect you and Megs, he did unspeakable things, shit that left him traumatized. The amount of blood on his hands was staggering. But it was all just to have his family back.

That life was well behind him now. It’s been behind him for months. All this he’s been looking for you, jumping through hoops to even get a glimpse of you and Megumi. He wouldn’t have blamed you if you moved on, if you found someone else and replaced him, deciding to leave this hellish place. But you stayed. Despite everything, you stayed.

“You’ve gotten so damn big.” Toji eyes scanned over Megumi. “About as tall as me.” He laughed.

“Yeah, well, I do look exactly like you.” He shrugged, smiling. “I’ve been hearing it my whole life. It’s finally nice to see the original.”

“The original, huh? I ain’t that damn old,” he scoffed.

Seeing them already get along and bicker with each other like it came naturally gave you a warm feeling in your chest. You’ve never seen Megumi’s eyes so full of life, like he found his other half. And in a sense, he did. You did as well. All of you did.

“We have a lot of catching up to do.” Toji ruffled Megumi’s hair. “A lot.”

“I know. But can you promise me one thing?” Megumi asked.

“Of course.” Toji was quick to answer.

“Please, don’t leave me again. I don’t care what it is. Promise me you’ll never leave me, dad.” Megumi nervously began biting the skin off of his bottom lip.

Toji stared at his son. “I promise.”

a/n: a lot of you wanted a part 2 so I made one. I hope it lived up to the expectations tbh cause I wasn’t really sure what y’all wanted to me to write

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured V

Alexia Putellas x Child!Reader

Summary: The next day

The day that Alba takes you is the worst day of Alexia's life which says a lot.

For a long time, the worst day of her life was tearing her ACL, the time before that was when her father died but even those moments have been taken over by Alba taking you away from her.

Alexia slept outside your bedroom door that night, adamant that you would open it when you thought everyone was in bed. She didn't have much of a plan after that apart from grabbing you before you noticed her and not letting you go ever again.

But you don't open your door until Alba arrives early the next day.

You shrug off Alexia when she tries to reach for you, whining and crying until Alba picks you up. You're still in yesterday's clothes and no matter how much Alexia begs, you don't even acknowledge that she's speaking to you.

Alba doesn't talk to her either and both sisters are caught in a standoff that forces Olga to pack your bag.

No word is spoken by either you or Alba even as Alexia rants and raves and begs until the front door swings shut behind you.

That's when she really breaks down, crumbling to the floor as she sobs.

Your bedroom door is left open and Alexia can peer inside, clearly seeing where you've destroyed things last night.

Your trains are knocked over. Your ballet pumps are strewn around the room. Your bedsheets and pillows are bundled up in your wardrobe like you slept in there last night rather than your bed.

There was a picture of you and Alexia that lived on your bedside table. You're a newborn in it, lying on Alexia's chest. The labour had been gruelling - thirteen long hours - and Alexia's face is all red. You're red too but completely content. The picture's lived there for as long as Alexia can remember until now.

It lies on the floor, the frame completely broken and unsalvageable. The picture is ruined too, a big rip right down the middle until one half features just Alexia and the other half features you.

"Ale," Olga says softly," I'm...I'm going to call you in sick, okay?"

Alexia shakes her head, wiping away her tears. "No," She insists," I'm going in to train."

"Ale-"

"No."

The radio doesn't get turned on when Alexia drives to her recovery session. She drives in silence, stewing about it all as she pulls into the car park.

It's clear to everyone that she's in a mood which is a little strange seeing as they won the Copa De La Reina last night. No one seems to want to approach.

No one except Mapi, despite Ingrid's hushed warnings.

"So, which one did she choose?"

The words shock Alexia, who nearly drops her shirt. "What?"

Mapi frowns. "Did you not let her choose this time? That's so mean, Ale. Did she at least like the one you got her?"

"Mapi, what are you talking about?"

Mapi rolls her eyes. "The train? You always let y/n choose a new train when we win a trophy. Which one was it this time? Last time I saw her she talked about wanting this fancy red one that you could take the top off to put little people in the cars. Was it stupidly expensive? Is that why you didn't let her choose?"

Alexia clenches her fist at the reminder. She can't think of the last time she bought you a new train. She used to buy one every week. Its all you ever ask for but she can't remember the last one she gave you.

Was it the green one at Christmas or the black one at new years?

No, it can't have been then because she got you a big train set before Jaume was born, wrapped up and placed in the cupboard to give to you the day of Jaume's birth.

But...

Alexia can't remember seeing it in your room this morning.

When recovery is over, she nearly tears the cupboard door off its hinges.

The present is still there, a thick layer of dust covering the pristine packaging and Alexia sobs all over again.

She's in her car before she knows and is banging on Alba's door before she can stop herself.

"Go away!" Her sister snarls.

"Let me in!"

"No! Go away!"

"I want to see her!"

"Fuck off, Alexia! And get lost! You're not coming anywhere near that little girl!"

"She's my daughter! You've kidnapped her! Move!"

Alba looks ready to throw hands again but so is Alexia. She knows that she's got a long way to go but she's got the present from Jaume's birth in the backseat and the train you told Mapi you wanted.

"Kidnapped," Alba scoffs," That's rich. You've been neglecting her! You're lucky I didn't call the police on you!"

"Watch it," Alexia snaps," This is what you wanted, wasn't it? For me to take notice? Job done! I've noticed! Give me Bambi!"

"Over my-"

Alba breaks off as the pitter-patter of little feet sound behind her. She turns, blocking Alexia from your view as you come running towards her.

"Tia! Tia!"

"Hey, bambi. What have you got there?"

"Me and you! I painted it!"

Alba smiles, gently cupping your cheeks as she presses a soft kiss to your forehead. She keeps her body between you and Alexia, desperate to make sure you don't notice.

"It's so beautiful. Why don't you go and put away your paints and then we can put it up on the fridge?"

"Okay."

You run off again and Alba goes to shut the door.

Alexia wedges her foot between it and the frame.

"I'm not leaving," She insists," Not without Bambi."

"Go back to your precious son," Alba hisses," You're not going anywhere near her."

Alexia doesn't exactly have a plan. All she wants is to grab you and take you home. She'll give you your new trains and not let you out of her sight for the rest of your life.

"Alexia Putellas Segura!"

She turns slowly to see her mother walking up the driveway, a face like thunder.

"Mama-"

"No!"

She falls silent.

"Go."

"Alba-"

"Alexia, I will not ask again. Go home to Olga and Jaume. Your presence will do Bambi no good."

Tears water in her eyes. "Mama, I'm trying. I will be better, I promise. Please."

"Alexia." Her mother's voice softens ever so slightly but it's clear she's not going to budge. "This will not be good for Bambi. Go home, reflect and we will sort out a day where you can see her again."

"I want to see her now." Her voice cracks. "Please, Mama, she's only little."

"Go home, Alexia," Eli says," Hold your son but go home and do not come back until you are invited. This is hard on you, yes, but it is much harder on your daughter. Something like this does not happen overnight."

"Mama, I will do anything. Just, please, I need to see her."

"I have already made my decision. You will not be seeing Bambi until I have been told what has happened from her mouth. You will go home and think about your actions. If I don't think your presence will help then you will not see her."

"She's a baby, Mama," Alexia sobs with no shame," I..."

"I know," Eli says," I know, Alexia but we need to start doing what is right for her, not just what is right for you. So, go home while I talk to Bambi and we will see where this goes."

Alexia sniffles and wipes her tears. "I...I have trains for her, in my car..."

"I'll give them to her."

You're sitting in front of a train set when Eli walks in.

She didn't really want to believe it when Alba called this morning, telling her that Alexia had been neglecting you. She hadn't wanted to believe it when Alba said that she had taken you away but seeing Alexia a few minutes ago had made this all clear.

"Do you have room for more trains?"

You look up. "Abuela!"

"Hola, Bambi." She sits down next to you. "I've missed you."

The look on your face is heartbreaking. You look so excited, like you can't quite believe that someone has missed you.

"Really?"

"Of course. I always miss my favourite little girl."

Your face clouds with something that Eli can't quite work out and you say softly," Mami used to call me that."

Eli's heart cracks completely at your words and she has to resist the urge to cry herself. "I hear that you are staying with your tia for a few days."

Alba hovers uncertainly nearby, shifting on her feet even though her eyes are still glued to the windows looking out on the driveway. Eli doesn't have to look to know that Alexia hasn't driven away yet.

She knows that she won't be coming in but leaving and driving back home makes it certain. Eli isn't sure that Alexia wants to admit that just yet.

You nod, looking back down at your trains. The set-up isn't as elaborate as the one you have at home but it's still quite big. You make little chugging noises with your mouth before speaking," Tia Alba says we can go to the beach tomorrow and that I don't have to go to nursery!" Your face goes cloudy again. and you mood drops "I got forgot at nursery yesterday."

Eli hums. "And how did that make you feel?"

Your bottom lip wobbles and Eli doesn't want to push but she needs to know so she can fix this. She wants this to be salvageable. She doesn't want to give Alexia hope that this can be fixed if it can't be. She doesn't want to force you to reconcile if it'll cause more harm than good.

"Mami loves Jaume," You say, face scrunching up," And Miss Olga. They're her family."

Tears spill down your cheeks.

"Your Mami loves you too," Eli promises, feeling her chest go tight," Even if she forgets."

"No, she doesn't," You shake your head," I..." You like around wildly like you're scared. "I...I love Mami but she doesn't love me."

"She does," Eli insists," You are so loved, Bambi. Your Mami is having a bit of a stumble but she does love you."

It's clear that you don't believe her.

"Mami wanted Jaume. She didn't want me."

Eli chokes out a breath. "Who told you that?! Bambi, who said that to you?!"

Your conception was always a difficult subject to breach. Alexia had gotten drunk, slept with someone and woke up with no memory of the experience. She ended up pregnant though, with you.

It wasn't something that they ever told you. All you had ever been told was that you were loved. No one ever wanted to label you as a mistake or unwanted.

It was one of Alexia's deepest shames. She'd always told you that she chose your daddy, that she spent hours and hours choosing the perfect one. She had never wanted to tell you that you were an accident no matter how many times Eli had told her you would find out one day.

To you, you were chosen. Alexia chose to have you, to make you a part of her life. To you, you and Jaume have the same daddy because Alexia chose yours.

Eli should have known this would come out eventually, no matter what Alexia had told her.

More tears flow down your cheeks.

"Was an accident," You sniffle," Didn't mean to listen in. Was meant to be sleeping. Mami was talking to her friends-"

"What did Alexia say, bambi?" Alba's voice is harsh and Eli could never imagine this is what her family would come to.

Two sisters on warring sides and one little girl used as the rope in this tug of war.

"Said that Jaume was planned. Does that mean I wasn't? That I wasn't wanted like him?"

"I'm going to kill her," Alba declares. If she squints, she can just make out Alexia sobbing into her steering wheel. "I'm going to kill her."

"Alba," Eli says," Calm down. Go and make some snacks but do not attack your sister."

"Abuela? Does that mean Mami didn't want me?"

Eli doesn't want to have this conversation. She's never wanted to have this conversation, to have you question your position in this family. She wants to tell you that just because you weren't planned doesn't mean that you weren't wanted. She wants to tell you that you were so wanted by everyone in this room the moment they found out about you.

But, somehow, she doesn't think that will help.

What you want is assurance from Alexia but Eli doesn't trust her eldest daughter with you right now.

It's a horrible thing to admit but it's so easy to see that Alexia adores Jaume. It has always been a little harder to see Alexia's love for you.

Eli doesn't trust Alexia with you in the slightest and she hates that. She hates how splintered her family has become. She can hear Alba pacing in the kitchen and she can make out Alexia still in the driveway, sobbing.

"Your Mami..." She sighs. "I wanted you and your Tia Alba wanted you. You are so loved and so wanted by everyone in the family, Bambi. Do you trust me?"

You nod.

"I'm going to be staying with you and your Tia for a few days and I'm going to make everything better."

"Is Mami and Miss Olga and baby Jaume coming over?"

"Do you want them to?"

"No."

"Then they won't. Your Mami did give me something to give to you, though. They're presents from her."

"Why?"

Eli doesn't want to think about this. She doesn't want to think about why you're even questioning Alexia giving you presents. Every weekend at the end of Alexia's matches, she used to take you to the model train store near your house.

Eli used to be forced to go too and Alexia would let you pick out a new train simply as a present, a gift for being her favourite girl in the entire world.

You were singlehandedly keeping that store in business and the old man that ran it even kept it open late if the match ran over. It used to be your favourite time of the week.

If you're asking her why you're getting presents all of a sudden, Eli doesn't want to think about how long it's been since you must have set foot in that store.

Her voice cracks. "Because you're her favourite girl in the entire world."

She pushes them both towards you.

One of them is covered in wrapping paper so Eli can't tell what it is but she recognises the second one.

It's a red train that you'd been eyeing up since the last time Eli went to the train store with you and your Mami almost a whole year ago. It's big and comes with its own train track and little people.

It's based on those fancy trains that serve afternoon tea and cakes because each of the train cars can have their roofs taken off to place the little people figures inside to enjoy their lunches.

It's stupidly expensive, seven-hundred euros and Eli remembers you telling her that Alexia had promised it to you for your birthday. But your birthday came and went a month ago so to see it now means you didn't get it then.

You don't reach out to tear off the wrapping paper of the first present but you do tentatively touch the front of the box of the train you've been begging for.

More tears then Eli thought possible drops down your cheeks.

"I don't want it," You say eventually," I don't want them, Abuela. I don't!"

"Okay, okay," Eli hushes you softly," I'll take them away, Bambi."

You climb into her lap and sob and Eli wants nothing more than to heal all your pain and stop this but even that sounds too difficult to do. She'd hoped that this was all some big understanding but it's clear that this runs deep, that this isn't something that can be fixed quite so easily.

It's clear that Alba has made the right choice though, to take you away from Alexia and the mess of your home.

Eli had been worried when Alexia had named her as your godmother but it was clearly the right decision. She doesn't want to think about what could have happened if you had been left there any longer.

"Abuela?" You say and the next words out of your mouth are the worst things Eli has ever heard," Do you think Mami would be happier if she didn't have me?"

[sturniqlo]

In Between- M.S

summary: with their usual bickering, Y/n and Chris escalate into a heated argument and Matt has to break up a fight between his girlfriend and his brother

cw: angst, cursing, crying, fluff at the end

an: thank you to @ik33pitundercover for this wonderful idea (if you have any idea pls comment them here or in my 'send requests' in my bio and i might make them happen!)

masterlist

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

Before Matt and Y/n got together, it was always Chris and Y/n the bestest of friends. Though they never had any feelings for each other, they were always together. Everyone always told them they had a sibling like relationship. And they both agreed. They constantly bickered, pushed each other around playfully, just everything siblings would do. Eventually, the two other brothers, Nick and Matt, also became close with Y/n.

A couple of month of hanging out one on one, Y/n and Matt ended up dating. And Chris couldn't be happier. His brother and best friend were both together what more could he ask for?

Earlier today, Chris had texted Y/n if she was down to hangout. She politely declined, telling Chris she was going to hangout with Matt for most of the day. He understood and responded to her that he'll probably hangout with his other friends. He was a bit bummed to say the least. Chris can't remember the last time him and Y/n hung out one on one. Not that he was jealous of her and Matt, never. He just wanted to spend some time with his best friend.

After messaging Y/n, he didn't text any of his other friends, too upset to even hang out with anyone else. As the day went on, Nick had came into Chris' room to ask if he wanted to go hangout with him and Madi, he declined. When the afternoon came by, he ordered takeout and ate his taco bell. After eating he hopped on fortnite and played a couple of rounds before deciding to take a nap.

Y/n spent the whole morning and afternoon with Matt. Although she did feel a bit bad for declining Chris, Matt reassured her and told her Chris would be fine. Around ten in the morning, she picked Matt up in her car, and drove them to their usual breakfast spot. They shared each others plate and were both bloated with good food at the end of it. During their breakfast time, Matt had mentioned how Chris had seemed a bit down as of lately. "Do you think it's because you haven't hung out with him?" He said while taking a bite of his pancake. "I've hung out with him. We were all together last weekend." She replied.

"Yeah, I get that but, I mean one on one." Matt didn't mind at all when his brother and girlfriend hung out one on one. He liked that she had a good relationship with Chris and Nick. "Oh, yeah, I see it now. Maybe I can plan something with him next week? If he want to, that is." That conversation was a couple of hours ago. The time was now nearing five in the afternoon and Nick had called Matt that he was staying over at Madi's. "Do you think Chris is home?" Matt asked as they picked out the ingredients for tonight's activity. "Not sure, he texted me earlier that he might hang out with some of his friends."

Y/n and Matt had spent the afternoon at her place watching movies and playing games. Y/n ended up making them lunch, and here they are now in the grocery store. They had both agreed the would make something at Matt's house so Y/n can drive back to her place when she was ready to go. Matt was a bit bummed that she couldn't stay the night but understood that she had an exam early in the morning. "Wait, let me get Chris a pack of Pepsi. He told me he was running low yesterday." Y/n said, pushing the cart towards the soda isle.

"He seriously needs to cut down on the Pepsi. But we just keep feeding into it." Matt wrapped his arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. "I agree."

Chris woke up to the sound of a loud bang followed by laughter coming from upstairs in the kitchen. He checked his phone and saw it was almost six in the afternoon. He had slept for about an hour and a half. Confused about the loud bang, he got up to check. Coming up the stairs half awake, he saw Y/n on the floor cleaning up what looked to be some sort of dessert batter. "The fuck happened in here?" Chris said, startling Y/n. "Oh shit! Chris what the hell, you scared me." Y/n stood up from her spot on the floor. "My bad." Chris scoffed, going to the fridge.

"I thought you were going out today?" She threw the many stained paper towels in the trash. "I was going to but, you declined." He threw some shade at her. "I told you I was sorry, Matt had this planned for a couple of days now." She said, walking away to go retrieve their mop. "Where's Matt anyways?" He asks, as Y/n fills up the mop bucket. "He spilled his cake batter on the floor and it got all over him so he went to shower."

"Oh, well clean this mess up then. It not gonna clean itself up." He points to the remaining with his water bottle. "Woah, who put a stick up your ass?" Y/n was taken back a bit. Most of the time she could tell when Chris was joking when saying rude comments because he always smiled and tries not to laugh whenever he says them, so does she, but, he seemed serious about this one. "Stop playing around. Are you going to clean it or not?" Chris slightly raises his voice. Y/n's eyebrows furrow.

"Okay, You've never talked to me like that and I'm not going to let you talk to me like that." She stops filling the bucket up and stares at Chris with a confused glare. What has gotten into him? "Whatever." He scoffs, as he starts walking towards his set of stairs. "Hey, no! You come back here and tell me what this is all about." She tells him, she slowly starts getting mad. "I'm not a fucking child for you to be talking to me like that." He fights back. "Well you're acting like one right now." She crosses her arms. "Just leave me alone and enjoy your time with my brother. Seems like he's the only one you've known for years."

"Is this about us not hanging out as much anymore?" She says as Chris turns back around to face her. "What do you think? You get with my brother and now you forget about me? Was being my friend just an act to get to Matt?" Chris yells. "Are you hearing yourself right now?" Y/n yells back, and she sees Matt walk in with wet hair. "What's going on." Chris turns his head to see who was talking. "Oh look, your boyfriend is back, looks like you won't be needing me this evening." He smiles sarcastically.

"You're being a fucking dick right now." She walks closer to him. "Woah, okay. Let's- why don't you two settle down. And talk without yelling." Matt intervenes and steps in the middle of the arguing pair. "Matt, move. Chris is being unreasonable and isn't thinking before he speaks." Y/n tries to move Matt out of the way. "Babe, hey, calm down. Tell me what happened."

"He came up the stairs and just started being rude to me. He's mad about me and him not hanging out as much. When he could've just told me in a nicely manner." Y/n leans her head at the last part to where Chris can see her. Chris only rolls his eyes. "Yeah, you always tell me you're busy. Seems like you have time for everyone else besides me. I hope you're happy Matt, considering the fact that you ruined our friendship." Matt turns around. "Chris, I didn't ruin no friendship and your friendship with Y/n isn't ruined."

"Matt do you know what he said to me?" Matt shakes his head. "Oh, please enlighten him, Y/n." Chris says mockingly, she only rolls her eyes at him. "If you keep rolling em' they're going to get stuck." Chris adds. "Chris, stop it." Matt turns his head towards him "Go on." Matt tells her. "He told me that I only became friends with him to get with you. Can you believe that? He doesn't know the shit he's saying!"

"Chris? Do you really think that low of her?" Matt is shocked by all of this. He's never seen Chris and Y/n argue this bad. And it's making him upset that he's in the middle of this. "I'm starting to." Chris' comment ticks Y/n off. "That's it, I'm out of here." Y/n grabs her purse and phone and pushes through them. "Y/n come back." Matt gently grabs her arm. "I can't be in the same room as him right now. Not when he's acting all bitchy."

"I'm not acting bitchy, so get your facts straight." Chris adds on to her anger. "Chris that's enough." Matt raises his voice at his brother. "Here, come to my room to cool down and I'll talk to Chris, okay?" Matt softly talks to Y/n as he sees that she near bursting into tears. He knows she hates arguing with anybody. "Okay, okay." She whispers walking off to Matt's room, not making eye contact with her best friend.

Once Matt hears his room door close he starts going off on Chris. "What was that all about." He points to his room where Y/n is. "An argument, dumbass." Chris makes a smart mouth comment. "You know you could've talked to her like a normal person right? And to accuse her of using you so she could get to me was a low blow." Chris now realizes how bad it sounded. When Y/n entered Matt's room, she sat on his bed and let her tears out. She's never fought with Chris this bad. Yeah, they might've had a little argument or two over something small, but it never got to this point where someone had to intervene.

"Sorry, I got carried away. It's just, I miss hanging out with her. I feel like she's slowly forgetting about me ever since you two started dating." Chris says, wiping his eyes to prevent his tears to come down. "She's not forgetting about you, trust me. We always talk about whenever we hangout. And, she's also noticed how you two haven't been hanging out as much. Also, Im sorry for hogging her for months now." Matt tells Chris, earning a light chuckle from him at the last comment.

"Why don't you go in there and talk to her while I clean this up, okay?" Chris nods and starts walking towards Matt's room where Y/n currently is. He lightly knocks before opening the door. "Hey." Chris says, walking towards the bed to sit next to her. "Hi." She says, lifting her head off her knees. "I'm sorry about everything I said out there. I know you didn't use me to get to Matt. That was stupid of me to say." He shakes his head thinking back on it. "I just felt like you were forgetting about me and I was upset and let out my anger on you instead of talking to you like a normal person would." Y/n finally looks at him. "I'm sorry you felt that way. But, I also wish I would've realized it sooner, it would've prevented this whole shit show."

"Do you forgive me?" He asks lowly. "Of course I do, you're my best friend." After a couple of minutes basking in the comfortable silence, Matt finally walks in. "Nobody has been killed, I'm guess you two made up?" He takes a seat next to Chris. "Yup, we're good now." Matt smiles at that. "That's great, how about tomorrow you two spend the whole day together after Y/n is done with her exam?" Both Y/n and Chris liked the idea of that. "That sounds nice. What do you think, Chris?" Y/n asks Chris. "I'm up for it."

"Come on, let's go bake the boxed cake since I spilt the other one." He stands up and sits in the middle of them wrapping his arms around both of them. "That's the first ever biggest fight, definitely going into the book."

"Shut up!" Chris and Y/n say in unison and laugh.

[inkdrinkerworld]

omg i have thoughts !!!

imagine dealer!rem driving autistic!reader home from a long day of classes :(( usually i get headaches and my hands r super dry, and im just overstimulated and done so imagine him having everything ready !! like my fav lotion w my fav scent, my headphones, weighted blanket, a new fantasy book id been wanting, and hugs from him in the parking lot before we leave to get food and coffee :(( i love him

I love him too :( he’s such a comfort

Remus is leaning on his car, a blunt hanging from his lips as he waits for you to come out the school’s building.

“Remmy,” you murmur as you get closer and Remus pushes off the door and stubs the blunt in one movement.

“Hi, honey,” he kisses your forehead as he takes your bag and laptop from your hands. “How was your day?”

He sets all your stuff in the backseat and pulls you close to him when his hands are free.

“Long,” you puff out a breath and wrap your arms around his stomach as you hold him close. “Really long.”

His hands rub up your back, your sweater making it hard for his warmth to seep into you.

“I’m sorry dove,” he kisses your forehead. “I got your cream in the glove box, and we can go get Thai if you want.”

You hum and Remus smiles over the top of your head, already knowing what you’re going to ask.

“Can I get a Thai tea there?” Remus tuts.

You always ask and he always says the same thing- even if you’re not getting take out there.

“When have I been able to deny you, baby?” You giggle when he kisses your cheek and then your jaw.

“When I asked for that thing yesterday.” You say as he opens your door for you. As he buckled you in, he rolls his eyes.

“Yeah because it was one in the morning and you’d have been bouncing off the walls for hours.” He kisses your lips before you can respond.

When he pulls out of the school, you’ve pulled your ‘car blanket’ - something you’d quilted about eight months ago - across your lap and take your unscented hand cream from the glove box.

Your hand touches something other than your hand cream and it takes all you have not to cry.

“Remus Lupin!” You squeal, pulling the book from its spot in the glove box.

“My life,” he spares you a glance as he turns a corner and smiles when he sees you staring at him with glassy eyes. “Don’t cry, pretty girl.”

“You’re so sweet,” you coo, your hand running down the cover of the paperback. “Thank you.”

“Anything for you, dove. You know that.” You steal a kiss before he pulls into the Thai food car park. “Start your book baby, I’ll be ten minutes.”

[fluentmoviequoter]

With You, Even When I'm Not

Requested Here by the amazing @newobsessionweekly!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Summary: When one of Tim Bradford's enemies is released from prison, he sets out to hurt Tim by hurting you. You trust that Tim will save you, but time is not on your side.

Warnings: angst, car accident, torture (injuries to r), based on 2x11 but this isn't a rewrite (for once lol), crying, fluff and comfort

Word Count: 5.5k+ words

A/N: I didn't include a scene with Tim threatening someone like he does in 2x11 and I kinda regret it because it was hot, but I also really like how this turned out...

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

“The almighty Tim Bradford isn’t coming to save you. You know why? Because you’re already dead.”

You force your eyes open and ignore the pain and fear to say, “So are you.”

Less than eight hours ago, you sat beside Tim in roll call. You force yourself to remember that rather than consider what Ferguson plans to do to you.

- 8 Hours Ago - 

Your day starts like any other: you wake up, get ready, go to the station, and take your seat beside Tim for roll call. The sun is bright, the sky clear, and Los Angeles is event-free for once. So, it has the makings for a good day.

“What is up with you?” Tim asks quietly.

“What do you mean?” you counter.

“You’re all smiley and happy. Someone puked in my shop yesterday and you’re acting like this is the best job in the world.”

“It is!” You chuckle at his look before explaining, “It’s going to be a good day. Just let me enjoy this one for every hundred bad ones I’ve dealt with.”

“Sure.”

Wade enters, and you give him your full attention, though you never forget about Tim. He’s a constant in your life, and you wish you could have him by your side every moment, not just during roll call.

“Nolan, Harper is back so you can return to your TO,” Wade says.

“That’s why you’re so happy,” Tim muses. “You got rid of Nolan.”

You shake your head and smile before you stand. You’re patrolling in one of the nicest Los Angeles neighborhoods today, so you probably won’t see or hear Tim much today.

“Have a good one,” you tell him.

“Be careful,” he replies.

You exit the room, and Tim watches you go. Lucy walks to his side and stops, aware of what he’s looking at and longing for.

“Let’s go, boot, don’t just stand there,” Tim demands.

“Bradford,” Wade calls. “A word? Chen can stay.”

Tim nods and follows Lucy to the front of the room.

“Ferguson was released on parole this morning,” Wade says. “Sorry to tell you like this, but I thought you should know.”

“He had fifteen years left; how did this happen?” Tim asks.

“Who’s Ferguson?” Lucy inquires.

“Someone I arrested,” Tim answers. “He threatened to kill me when he got out.”

“Oh. Uh, should we-“

“That is up to Officer Bradford,” Wade interjects. “If you want to sit today out, I’ll understand.”

“No. I’m not letting him ruin my life, too. We can handle Ferguson if he’s stupid enough to show his face.”

“The parole board seems convinced he’s reformed, but we both know he’s a good liar and a better manipulator. Keep your eyes open, Tim, and don’t hesitate to call in anything you think is a threat.”

“Yes, sir. Let’s go, boot.”

Tim leads Lucy to the shop, and he's quieter than usual. Lucy hasn’t been a cop as long as him, but she knows what it’s like to have a criminal blame you for the consequences of their actions. She won’t push Tim, not about this, but she has questions about everything she heard.

“Pull up Roscoe Ferguson,” Tim says as he turns onto the road. “Get familiar with his face. If you see him, I want you to know it’s him.”

“You really think he’ll do something?” Lucy asks as she turns the dashboard computer toward her.

“I’m counting on it.”

“Dispatch, this is 7-Adam-9, are there any alerts in my area?” you ask into the radio.

“Negative, 7-Adam-9.”

You nod to yourself and place the radio back in the console. The morning has been quiet and slow. You know you shouldn’t complain; a sunny drive in the hills is rarely a bad thing, but you’re a cop, and you’re getting bored.

“7-Adam-9, switch to channel 4 for Sergeant Grey,” dispatch instructs.

You turn the channel dial and let Wade know you’re there. He doesn’t answer, and you slow at a stop sign as you bounce the radio against your thigh.

“You’re in the hills, right?” Wade asks suddenly.

He doesn't use your name or call number, only asks a rushed question. It concerns you, but you remain professional.

“Yes, sir,” you answer. “Do you need me to come back?”

“No, stay up there. Just wanted to double-check.”

“What’s going on?”

Wade goes silent again, and you repeat the question.

“Nothing, I hope. Just trying to keep everyone connected to Bradford out of the heart of LA today.”

“Why?”

“Ferguson was released.”

“He has 15 years left on his sentence!” you exclaim into your empty car.

“I know. I’m trying to get everything figured out and petition for it to be reversed, but for now, just keep working.”

“Yes, sir.”

You turn the channel back and set the radio down. Roscoe Ferguson hates Tim and would do anything to get to him. Tim knows you're here for him, so you focus on your assignment. The Hollywood hills are quiet this morning, but you know better than to let your guard down.

As you turn onto Tahoe Drive, you notice a black truck in your rearview. He gets close to the tail of your shop but slows suddenly and turns onto Tahoe Place. You roll your eyes; the people who live in the Hills drive like they own the hills. They probably do, but it doesn’t excuse unsafe vehicle operation.

You round the bend where Tahoe Drive turns into Lake Hollywood Drive, and the Hollywood Reservoir comes into view. When you glance up, you see the black truck speeding toward you again. You hit the lights and leave them on for a few seconds as a warning, but the driver doesn’t slow. If they pass you, you’ll stop them and issue a ticket, you decide.

There’s a point on Lake Hollywood Drive where there’s less than 200 feet of terrain between the road and the reservoir. It’s covered in sparse foliage, but it would be easy enough to get to the water or hide in the trees. You realize too late that the truck isn’t slowing down or moving to pass you as you near that point. It rams into you from behind, and you lurch forward before the seatbelt catches and snatches you backward. Steering is pointless as the shop slides into a small patch of dirt. The truck is still driving, pushing your car forward. The driver stops just before you collide with a tree, and you reach for the radio.

It's fallen from the console, and the seatbelt holds you uncomfortably tight to your seat. As you wrestle to free yourself and get the radio, you don’t see the man exit the truck or approach your window. He hits it with an illegal tool used for breaking into cars, and you turn your face away as glass showers over you.

“Hi,” he greets. “7-Adam-9, right?”

“And you’re Roscoe Ferguson,” you answer.

“Bradford, get back to the station,” Wade radios, “Now.”

“What’s going on?” Tim asks as he makes a U-turn.

“Ferguson stole a truck. We don’t know where he went after or what he’s planning to do.”

“We should find him,” Lucy says.

“And don’t say you should go look for him,” Wade adds. “You’re too close to this.”

“He’s not going to kill me, Grey,” Tim argues. “Let me help. I caught him once; I can do it again.”

“Get back to the station. That’s an order.”

“Yes, sir.”

Tim sighs as he continues driving toward the station. The last time he worried about Roscoe Ferguson, you were sitting beside him. Though you’ll never take the credit, Tim thinks you’re the main reason he finally got Ferguson in cuffs. 

“What now?” Lucy asks.

“We find a way to help find Ferguson,” Tim replies.

“Get out,” Ferguson demands. 

He pushes the gun closer to your face, and you raise your hands slowly. Your left shoulder aches from the impact of the seatbelt, and as you reach through the broken window to open your door, you feel the tiny scratches littering your face and neck sting. Ferguson pulls you away from the shop and pushes you toward the reservoir.

“What’s your plan here, Roscoe?” you ask.

He taps the gun against your back to make you keep walking. With your back to him, you slide your hand into your pocket and remove the laminated piece of paper you keep in it. It falls to the ground, and you hope it’s enough to help Tim find you and Roscoe. 

“Kill me to get to Tim? Hurt him without touching him because you know he won’t let you get the chance?”

“Shut up!” Ferguson yells. “Walk!”

Taunting him may not be your brightest decision, but making him mad will make him careless. When you reach the water, he grabs your belt and pulls you backward. Your breath rushes out as your back hits the ground, but you smile through the pain.

“You will never beat him,” you say.

“Tim Bradford took everything from me. Let’s see how he likes the feeling,” Ferguson responds.

He raises the gun to your face and pushes the barrel against your forehead. You keep your eyes on him, unwilling to flinch in the face of death. He changes his mind, however, and brings the butt of the handle down against your temple instead, and everything goes dark as the water blows in the wind.

Tim and Lucy have been relegated to desk duty. With Ferguson on the run and numerous threats against Tim’s life, Wade decided it would be best for him to stay here. Wade watches them from his office and shakes his head when Lucy begins twirling her handcuffs around her finger. His phone rings and Wade steps away from the glass door to answer it.

“Sergeant Grey,” he answers.

He listens silently before lowering the receiver and stepping out into the station. Tim looks up, and his expression drops immediately.

“What happened?” Tim asks as he stands.

“They found the stolen truck. It was involved in an accident near the reservoir. He, uh… Ferguson ran a cop off the road, and they’re both missing.”

“Who?” Tim asks, urgency and panic lacing the syllable.

Before Wade can answer, dispatch reads your badge number in a missing officer alert, and Tim’s blood runs cold. He freezes, staring at Wade as he realizes what has happened and that it’s his fault. Tim never anticipated Ferguson going for the people Tim cares about – loves – and he should have.

“Let me go out there,” Tim demands lowly. “I can find her.”

“I shouldn’t,” Wade answers. He looks to Lucy and adds, “But I will. Don’t try to do this alone, Bradford. Take help where you can get it.”

“I don’t want the credit; I want her back,” Tim snaps.

“Then get to the reservoir and do what you do best, Tim.”

Lucy nods at Wade, an unspoken promise that she’ll do her best to help him and keep him from spiraling. They both know that it’s easier said than done.

“Tim,” you call out when you wake.

“Nope, just me,” Ferguson says.

He’s sitting across from you as he carves a piece of wood into a chipmunk. Your arms are tied tightly behind you, and one of your ankles is secured to a metal pole with your handcuffs. Whatever he’s planning to do to you will hurt you, but it will hurt Tim much worse.

“I hope you’re asking for a lot of ransom,” you mumble.

“You and I both know this isn’t about money. It’s about that little partner of yours and what he did to me.”

“Making you pay for your crimes? Yeah, he’s a terrible person.”

Ferguson moves forward quickly. The half-finished wood carving falls to the floor as he presses the knife under your jaw.

“These whittling knives are small, but I can cut an artery before you can call out to him again,” he threatens.

You swallow, causing the knife to bob in his hand. He presses harder and turns to the left before standing. Warm blood trickles down your neck, and you wonder what he plans to do to you before he kills you. If you didn’t have so much faith in Tim, you’d be tempted to anger Ferguson and trick him into killing you early. It’s a terrible thing to think, but at the end of the day, you’re a cop, and you know when your chances aren’t good enough. Right now, they are.

“When he gets here, he will put a bullet in you this time,” you tell Ferguson.

“You stopped him last time,” he answers.

He’s planning to use you as a human shield; let Tim be the one to finish you off in the darkness. Perhaps that’s why you’re underground. The only light you see is from a small lamp; when it goes off, you will be plunged into complete darkness.

“Stop talking,” Ferguson demands as he retrieves his chipmunk. “We don’t have much air in here.”

You try not to let your shock show, but as you look around and fail to see a single air vent, you worry that Tim won’t make it in time. Forcing yourself to take a steady breath, you close your eyes.

“No, no, no,” Ferguson chides. “No napping. We have to stay awake for the pre-game, and the final score.”

He tips your head back, and your eyes open instinctually. When he sees that, he tightens his grip on your jaw and circles you. Looking at him upside-down, you tug against your restraints. He raises a foot and places it on your bound hands before stepping down hard and fast. Your shoulders pull backward at a painful angle with no room that makes you yell in pain. Ferguson’s laugh drowns out your scream, and he keeps his hand on your jaw as he lays a rope over the back of your neck to hang over your shoulders.

“He’s going to kill you,” you say between pants when Ferguson releases your face.

He hinges at his hip, invading your personal space as he smiles and says, “You too.”

“Bradford, there’s blood,” an officer alerts.

Tim steps to your open shop door and sees a few small, oblong blood drops on your seat. Based on the shape, you were in motion when they fell, and it wasn’t enough blood to kill you.

“Probably from the glass,” he decides. “Let’s move toward the reservoir. We can’t tell footprints apart but watch where you’re stepping!”

“Tim!” Lucy yells from just past the tree line.

He jogs to her side and looks down. She found a small, laminated piece of paper, and Tim recognizes it immediately. Your self-proclaimed “perfect fortune” from one of your first dinners together as P2s rather than rookies. He picks it up and looks toward the water. He’s looking in the right place, you made sure to tell him that, but he feels like he’s missing something else.

“Please,” you whimper, even though you know he can’t hear you.

“How many more times do I have to tell you?” Ferguson asks. “He’s not here.”

The only thing on your mind is Tim because if you stop thinking about him you’ll only know the unbearable pain and the man inflicting it. Ferguson places his foot between your legs, pushing against the chair slowly. It tips back, and you close your eyes and imagine Tim catching you. It doesn’t stop the initial pain of your leg being held in one place by the handcuffs as the rest of your body moves back or the scream you release as you hit the floor, but it does give you a reason to keep fighting. Ferguson pulls you up nearly as fast as he tipped you over, and the rope digs in against the side of your neck.

“This is the best workout I’ve ever had,” he says.

He wipes the sheen of sweat from his forehead, and you notice how hot and thick the air seems. Ferguson admitted that the air supply was limited, so if you start wasting it, maybe he will leave.

“If you call him…” you begin slowly. “Let me hear Tim Bradford’s voice one more time, and I will lure him here for you.”

“Do you think I’m dumb?” Ferguson asks.

You nod and immediately regret it when he pulls the rope and forces your head down toward your chest.

“I’m not letting you take control. This is my plan, and it ends beautifully.”

“I can’t do this!” Tim yells.

He runs his hands over the back of his head and down his face as he squats by the reservoir. There are no other hints about where Ferguson took you, nothing to guide Tim toward saving you, only dirt and broken promises. He told you that he wouldn’t let anything happen to you; Tim whispered the promise in the dead of night when you were asleep during an overnight patrol, yet he’s holding himself to keeping it like it will kill him if he doesn’t. Because it will.

“Tim don’t give up yet,” Lucy encourages. She lowers beside him and lays a hand on his back. “We can do this, but we have to work together. The paper means something right? Could it be more than an indication she was here?”

Tim wipes under his eye, and Lucy’s eyes widen as she realizes tears are streaming down his cheeks. He stops them quickly, but she pats his back to remind him he’s not fighting alone. You’re fighting, too, and Tim needs to remember that.

“Lucy, I lo-“ Tim stops suddenly, though Lucy is confident she knows where he was going. “I know what it means.”

He stands quickly, and Lucy follows him to the place where they found the fortune. The little strip of paper from a fortune cookie has been in your pocket since you read it, but not only for the encouraging message on the front.

“34831,” Tim says.

“Your badge number?” Lucy asks, tilting her head to the side. “What about it?”

“It was on the back of my fortune that night. Hers, though, didn’t have a number. So, we wrote one on it.”

“What’s the number?”

“2 25 12 9. I didn’t think she’d know what it meant.”

“What does it mean?”

“It’s an alphabet cypher, but backward.”

“B, Y, L, I,” Tim rattles off. “If she had this, she may have left more clues at those points: 2, 25, 12, and 9.”

“This would have been about 2,” Lucy says, gesturing to the ground. “That’s what, 2 meters from the car?”

Tim furrows his brows at Lucy’s use of meters but nods anyway.

“We can’t walk 25 meters forward, we’d be in the water,” Lucy points out.

“Then we need to spread out in every direction we can go 25 meters… Unless I’m wrong.”

“Don’t question it.”

“No, she would’ve fought. He wouldn’t have been able to make her go anywhere if she wasn’t willing to. We should assume that she couldn’t leave a trail after this point.”

“Then we’re back where we started?”

“Exactly.”

“Tim, what does that even mean?”

“She’s still here. They both are.”

Tim turns and yells for someone to get satellite imaging of the area and the camera footage from your car. Your body cam and police uniform shirt were discarded by the water but the cameras could tell them what happened before and during the initial attack.

“We’ll find her, Tim,” Lucy promises again.

“Thank you,” Tim whispers.

Running footsteps echo over the top of the tin deathtrap you’re in. Someone yells, and Ferguson ducks his head as he moves out of your sight.

“Tim!” you yell.

Your voice cracks, and as you prepare to yell again, Ferguson pulls the rope around your neck. It digs into your skin and compresses your windpipe. Tears begin leaking from your eyes, and after the day you’ve had, you don’t care to stop them.

“Tim, please,” you whisper.

“Welcome to the final round,” Ferguson says into your ear. 

He loosens the rope and pushes your chair forward. His foot pulls down against your hands again, pulling your shoulder muscles cruelly as they stretch to accommodate the impossible movement. You scream in agony as Ferguson pushes you past the point he stopped at previously.

“Did you stop to ask yourself what he’s thinking? Wouldn’t he have found you sooner if he cared? I’ve been out long enough that he knew, yet he let you out by yourself,” Ferguson taunts.

“You won’t win,” you say between ragged breaths.

Ferguson pulls your head to the side to hold the whittling knife against your windpipe, and the cut he made earlier pulls open. Your white shirt is stained with blood and tears, and even as your blinks slow and breathing begins to feel impossible, you trust Tim.

“The almighty Tim Bradford isn’t coming to save you. You know why? Because you’re already dead,” Ferguson says.

You force your eyes open and ignore the pain and fear to say, “So are you.”

Throwing your head backward, you ignore the sting of his knife sliding across the tender skin of your neck. Your skull hits Ferguson’s nose, and he staggers backward with a hand holding his face. Suddenly, you can’t pull a full breath into your lungs. Time has run out, and Tim isn’t here yet. You hold your breath as Ferguson stumbles behind you. He drops, and you see his hand and face are covered in blood. His chest rises and falls slowly, but you’re safe until the rest of the oxygen is used up.

“Tim,” you whisper toward the metal sheet above you.

“Wait!” Lucy calls. “The ground is hollow here.”

Tim returns to Lucy’s side and hears his footsteps echo. It sounds like there’s a metal sheeting under the dirt beneath his boots. He raises a hand to call a few officers over before someone screams. It’s muffled by the metal and earth, but it’s a clear sign of pain. Better than that, it means someone is still alive.

“Find a way in,” Tim demands quietly.

As he searches the area around the hollow spot, he wishes to hear your voice again. Not another scream, but an acknowledgement that you survived whatever caused you such agony.

"Bradford!” Janssen calls.

He waves Tim over and points to a small opening. Together, they lift the heavy steel cover away from the round hole. Another barrier of cloth and metal sheets blocks the entrance, and as Tim digs through, he wonders how much air is getting through, if any. The moment he can see inside the fortified bunker, he pulls his weapon and drops silently into the metal housing.

What was likely meant to be a storm shelter has been converted into a survivalist’s nightmare. A small corridor leads to a wider opening, and a dim light is the only sign that anyone is inside. Tim raises his guns and stays ready to shoot as he nears the opening.

“Tim,” you whisper.

Tim hears your voice and doesn’t hesitate to step into the open room and swing his gun as he clears the small, square area. Ferguson lies unconscious in the corner, and Tim can only see your back, the restraints keeping you in place, and the rope loosely wrapped around your neck and shoulders.

Your shoulders shake as you exhale slowly. When you notice that you can breathe again, you take a deep breath before letting your head fall forward.

“Tim,” you repeat, trying not to think of anything else.

Tim says your name as he holsters his gun. You sit up straight and try to turn your head to the side but are stopped by the pull of the rope and the pain in your shoulders. You hiss in pain before returning to your previous position.

“You can’t trick me, Roscoe,” you mumble.

Tim steps toward Ferguson and handcuffs him. He repeats your name as he moves into your line of sight. His hands are raised to his shoulders, though his expression is pure concern. When he sees the blood, sweat, and dirt covering you and your clothes, he has to fight not to rush to your side.

“Tim,” you say again. Your voice is louder than before but still has an untrusting quality. “Tim.”

When you start crying and lean toward Tim, he kneels before you. He reaches down carefully to use his key and remove the handcuff from your ankle. Your head rests on his shoulder as he moves, and when he sees the damage done to your ankle, the swelling, deep bruising, and handcuff-induced gash, he looks back at Ferguson.

Tim sits up slowly and raises a hand toward your face. He pushes your hair back softly and waits until your eyes meet to speak.

“I need to go get backup,” he says.

“No, no! Please don’t leave me, Tim,” you plead through your slowing tears.

You lean forward and wince when your shoulder meets its new range of motion.

“I need to get Ferguson out of here,” Tim explains. “There’s a lot of people above us waiting for me to signal.”

“Tim, please.”

“Can I yell?”

You swallow as Tim moves closer to you. He stops an inch away from you, with your knees almost touching his ribs.

“I’m not going to yell unless you say I can,” he adds.

Tim waits for your nod, then leans away from you slightly to yell for Janssen and Lucy to come in.

“Help me,” you whisper when Tim’s eyes return to you.

He sits back on his heels as he unloops the rope from around you. It’s heavy, and he sees your shoulders drop once it’s away from you. They drop unevenly, though, and he knows you need more help than he can give you.

“I’m staying with you,” Tim promises, “but I have to untie your hands.”

You shake your head quickly, and Tim moves his hands to the sides of your thighs as he agrees not to leave. He asks Lucy to free your hands and keeps his hands on you as Lucy cuts the restraints.

“Thank you,” you say.

Tim doesn’t answer before you pull your arms forward. With them free, you don’t hesitate to raise them and wrap them around his shoulders. It hurts, and you sob as you fall forward and cling to Tim. He welcomes your touch and wraps his arms around your waist, but he doesn’t touch you, too mindful of how injured you are and where those unseen injuries are.

“I knew you’d come,” you say through your tears.

Tim looks over your shoulder as Janssen and a few other officers carry Ferguson to the opening. He should call an EMT to meet you here, but he can’t let you go yet. His grip tightens around your waist without thinking. When your only reaction is relaxing against him, Tim holds you as tightly as he needs to. Your tears are drying, and you turn your face toward Tim’s neck to speak.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t leave more clues,” you begin. “But I knew you didn’t need them.”

“The paper was smart,” Tim replies. “And I will always find you.”

“He wanted to lure you down here and trick you into killing me. Every time I called out for you he reminded me that we would both die.”

Tim exhales deeply, unsure how to tell you he knows you and he’d never make that mistake. He sits back, twisting you so that he’s holding you against his chest rather than letting you support your own weight.

“It hurts,” you say softly.

“Can you get out of here? Go up the ladder?” he asks.

“There’s a ladder?”

Tim’s brows furrow at your question. How did Ferguson get you down here if you weren’t conscious when you came in? He shakes his head; the detectives (and Tim) will look into the details of your abduction later. For now, your safety is the priority.

“Can you climb out?” Tim asks.

“Not without help,” you answer. “I don’t think I can walk.”

Tim looks at your ankle again, and his eyes catch on the fresh blood pooling against your collarbone. He leans closer to you to find the source. When he sees the cut across the front of your neck, he knows you need help sooner rather than later.

“Hold on,” he instructs you.

“I- I can’t move my shoulder.”

Tim lays you against the metal floor and looks at your left shoulder. It’s out of its socket, but Tim can’t risk pushing it back in without knowing if your muscles or ligaments are still intact.

“Please just get me out of here.”

Tim nods and turns around so your hips are beside his shoulders. He leans down and pulls your legs over his shoulder rather than your arms. With one hand pressing your shoulder to your side, Tim stands and pulls you up in a modified fireman’s carry. You stifle the yell that tries to escape, and Tim’s heart breaks when he hears it. He spent so much time fighting, desperate to find you, that he didn’t consider how different things would be when he did.

With the help of Janssen, Nolan, and Lucy, Tim gets you back above ground. He collapses to the ground but makes sure you’re set down with care. You reach out for him immediately, and Tim pulls your chest to his again. The paramedics are close, but until they arrive, Tim will hold you like he never has.

“I’m so sorry,” Tim whispers.

“You found me,” you reply. “You found me.”

Your right hand squeezes Tim’s shirt in your hand as you hold onto him. You didn’t doubt him for a second. Being in his arms gives you the safety and comfort you need to fall apart because you know he’ll hold you together.

“I know what it means,” you say. “Or I think I do. B-Y-L-I; it’s backwards, right?”

Tim nods against you, and you smile through your tears. The paramedics arrive, and you’re carefully removed from Tim’s grasp, though his hand stays in yours. You’re not sure you’ll ever be able to let go, but Tim has already made a new promise, and he won’t leave your side until he’s forced to.

“Where’s Kojo?” you ask as Tim leads you into his house.

“He’s staying with Lucy tonight. He gets excited when he sees you and I didn’t want him to hurt you,” Tim answers.

He guides you to the couch and sits beside you after placing your things in his guest bedroom. Tim refused to let you return to your apartment alone after being discharged from the hospital, and you didn’t need much convincing to stay with him while you heal.

You lean your head against Tim’s shoulder, careful not to jostle your shoulder in its sling. He moves his arm to welcome you closer and tilts his head to rest beside yours.

“It’s I love you backward, right?”

Tim looks down at your hand, surprised to see your fortune in it. He takes it from you and flips it to see his handwriting. He nods and sits up straight. When you turn toward Tim, he wipes under your eyes as if he can still see the tears you cried when he saved you. Your skin is littered with scars and reminders of what Ferguson did to you, but Tim still seems to only see you underneath all of it.

“It’s I love you, Bradford,” he answers. “Whether you wanted that to mean ‘from Bradford’ or something else.”

“I begged for you to save me while I was down there with him.”

“I’m-“

“Don’t apologize. I just- I need you to know I trust you that much because I know you love me. I’ve known for a long time. But I also knew that even if you didn’t find me in time, I would die loving you. And life was worth living because you were in it.”

Tim’s hands rise out of his lap before freezing. He looks down at your neck and back to your eyes before smiling. His eyes look misty, but you know yours are, too, so you decide not to tease him about it this one time.

“I don’t know where I’m supposed to put my hands to kiss you,” he mumbles.

You hold his shoulder as you lean in and kiss him. His hands raise to your waist without thought, and other than the soreness of using your obliques to search for Tim while tied in place, it’s a painless touch. Tim moves slowly and intentionally as he kisses you, reminding you of everything he said and did, even what you weren’t present for.

“I love you, Tim Bradford,” you say against his lips.

“I love you. I will always love you, and I will never lose you again.”

Tim slides the fortune into your pocket as he kisses you again, and every pain and fear you faced disappears because you know Tim will always find you and make you whole.

[doc-pickles]

baby daddy | mat barzal

summary: in which you get dental work done and have some very interesting things to say to mat.

warnings: none just lots of fluff!!

a/n: I got some dental work done this week and it inspired this short and sweet little fic.

enjoy!

xoxo nina

“Baby! I’m so glad to see you!”

Mat chuckles as he walks towards you, waving at the dental assistant next to you.

“She’s totally fine to eat and drink as normal, but will probably be out of it for a few hours,” the woman grins before looking to you. “Go home and rest up okay?”

You grin and nod at her, “My baby daddy is gonna take me home.”

“We don’t have kids,” Mat is quick to interject with a snicker as he looks to you. “Unless you’ve been hiding something from me.”

You pause, thinking with furrowed brows, “Future baby daddy then.”

Mat laughs as he wraps an arm around your shoulder, steering you out of the dental office, “Okay baby, whatever you say.”

You stop walking and Mat turns to look at you, “What is it pretty girl?”

“Do you… Not want to have babies with me,” you can’t help the tears that well up in your eyes, mostly a reaction from the drugs they’d given you during your dental procedure. “I thought we were going to get married and have babies!”

Mat quickly pulled you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your head, “I want everything with you my love. But you’re also very high right now and I don’t think this is the time to have conversations about marriage and babies.”

“O-okay,” you sniffle as Mat opens his car door and helps you in. “But you still love me right?”

“I’ll always love you baby,” Mat smiles and kisses your cheek. “Now let’s get you to bed.”

+

As the morning sunlight pours into your bedroom you groan you quickly bury your face in Mat’s chest. He mumbles sleepily and hooks his arm around your waist.

“How ya feeling baby?” Mat asks, his voice muffled by your hair.

“Like I got punched in the face,” you groan and snuggle further into Mat. “Was I a pain in the ass yesterday?”

Mat chuckles but doesn’t say anything, prompting you to lift your head and look up at him, “Mathew…”

“You said some very interesting things,” Mat smirks and you let out a groan. “All good stuff. Like when you called me your baby daddy.”

“I what?!” you screech and Mat laughs. “Oh my god that’s so embarrassing. Jesus…”

Mat pulls you close and kisses you softly, “It was really endearing, especially when you were crying and asking me if I wanted to marry you and have babies with you.”

You pull yourself away from Mat to scream into your pillow. His hand finds your back as he laughs, pulling you up to look at him.

“All good baby, I actually loved it,” Mat smirks as he presses a kiss to your forehead. “And I can’t wait to be your husband and baby daddy.”

[questionableratatouille00]

ʜɪɢʜᴡᴀʏ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʟʟ 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: In an effort to get the two of you to bond, Tony Stark sends you and the ex-assassin Bucky Barnes on a road trip together. The reason? You hate each other. The situation? Two weeks in a car together. The reward: three days of a resort vacation. And the problem? He's kinda cute.

Warnings (Entire Series): Enemies-to-lovers, cursing, sexual tension, angst, fluff, crying, fighting, violence, chaos, mentions/talk of trauma, discussions of mental health, and potentially more.

Warnings: Reader buys a dress, cursing, mentions and eating of food, let me know if more needs to be added.

[Series Masterlist]

𝑫𝒓𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝑴𝒆 𝑪𝒓𝒂𝒛𝒚

The next morning, you’re back on the road once again. You’re in the passenger seat now, letting Bucky drive. 

You snack on some granola bars that you’d packed, offering one to Bucky. He takes one, offering up a small ‘thanks’ in return.

Several hours later, you notice the small town slowly circling around the truck.

“Bucky. Can we stop?” You asked.

“We can make at least five more hours today.” His brows furrow.

“I haven’t pissed since yesterday. I’m gonna die.” You complained.

“There’s a gas station..30 minutes away. Can’t you wait?” He argues.

“No. Pull over.” You huffed. “Look! That diner right there. Debbie’s.* We can get lunch.” 

“That’s gonna waste at least an hour. We don’t have time.” His grip tightens on the wheel.

“We’ve got like an extra two days! The drive isn’t that fucking far! Pull over before I piss my fucking pants, asshole!” You blow up at him. Tony intentionally planned it so that there was time for a little bit of dilly-dallying. 

Begrudgingly, he turned into the diner parking lot. You zoomed out of the car and straight to the bathroom inside of the diner. 

After taking care of your business, you met back up with Bucky in the line to the counter.

When it was your turn, you waited as Bucky ordered some burger before you ordered your own food.

Bucky reached for his wallet at the same time you reached for yours. 

“I’ll get it,” you said.

“It’s fine. I’ve got it.” Bucky brushed you off. It made you..mad? He said it almost smugly, as if he was doing you such a favor.

“No, I’ll pay. I’ll do it.”

“I’m already doing it.” He snarked back. 

You quickly tried to shove your card against the tappy-machine as  Bucky scrambled to do the same. You engaged in a debit-card-sword-fight for several seconds before the lady behind the counter—an older woman, with short and thin gray hair and bright blue eyes, chuckled.

“You two make a mighty fine couple, I can tell.” Janet H. said, a fond smile on her face.

“We’re not together.” Bucky and you said sharply at the same time. 

Distracted by this, you fumbled and Bucky won the war.

You walked towards a booth in the 50s-style diner, sliding into it and looking at the receipt. Order #157. 

When the number was called by a slightly younger elderly woman, you took the initiative to walk back up to the counter.

“Thank you,” you said, taking the white bag. 

“No problem. You here for the festival?” She asked, making small talk. Sharon C. 

“Festival?” You echoed, curious. 

“Yeah. The town’s got an annual Blast-from-the-Past festival thing. Always draws in plenty of tourists.” She slid a white half-sheet of paper with a little infographic on it.

“Thanks,” you murmured, looking down at it as you walked back to the booth.

 If Bucky was curious about what the paper was, he didn’t voice it. You assumed that the Serum had probably boosted up his hearing, so maybe he already knew.

As Bucky unpacked the white, grease-stained paper bag of food, you scanned over the paper.

“Bucky. We should stay for this. This is pretty cool. It's like a 'this-town-through-the-decades' kind of thing. There's a 40's style dance thing tonight." You state, reading the first event listed. The festival is a week long, starting tonight, Monday, and ending on Sunday. “Look! Tomorrow is ‘30s-‘40s night. There’s a dance, and food, and all kinds of cool shit.” You grinned.

He stared at you like you had three—no, twelve—heads. 

“We definitely don’t have time for that.” He grumbled as he munched on his burger. 

“Bucky, we still have like, 5 or 6 days before we can even check into the resort thing. To get there is a 3-4 day drive. We’ve got plenty of time.” 

As he shuffled awkwardly at the presentation of the facts, you could tell that time wasn’t the main reason he wanted to skip it.

“C’mon. Please.” You begged.

He stared at you, unsure. 

You remained resilient.

“Fuck. Fine.” He broke, clearly unhappy about it. 

“Yes!” You cheered. “I think we passed a store that was selling stuff for the festival. I’m sure they’ve got some themed outfits.” You raved.

“Okay. There’s the motel down the street, right? We could just get a room there.” He murmured. “I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

“Why not? It’s just a little dance.” You huffed.

"We're both Avengers. We could be recognized."

"So? Either way, we're in a tiny ass town in the middle of nowhere. If we were recognized, it wouldn't even matter."

He looked down at his gloved left hand. He always wore thick jackets or long-sleeved shirts, paired with gloves.

"Nobody's gonna care." You reassured quietly. It was true that the two of you didn't get along very well, but you didn't think it was fair to make personal attacks. You knew his arm, and basically his entire past, really, were sensitive topics.

“Okay.” He conceded. “C’mon. Let’s go get hotel rooms.”

You lift your suitcase and backpack out of the backseat, before heading into the lobby. Bucky follows as you approach the receptionist.

She's an older lady, some sections of her hair gray, other sections a warm brown. Her eyes match the brown, and she smiles when she sees the two of you walk in.

"Hello. Welcome to the Brandon Briar Hotel. How may I help you two today?" She asked, looking up at the two of you. She has wrinkles by the corners of her eyes, and smile lines around her mouth. Her voice is warm, as is everything about her. A quick glance to her nametag revealed that her name is Barbara C.

"We'd like two rooms, please." You smiled politely.

"Alright, and how long will the two of you be staying, dear?"

"Just for tonight, if that's okay."

"Wonderful. Is it okay if it's a connecting room? The festival always brings in a lot of tourists." She smiled proudly.

"Really?” You ask, making small talk. You feel a pang of joyful spite as you see Bucky shift awkwardly next to you. Socializing is not something he’s known for.

"Yes, Brandon Briar has it every year. Here's a flyer, if you're thinking about attending." She slipped a brightly colored flyer over the counter, sliding it in front of you. The main colors, yellow, blue, and white, were eye-catching and pretty. This one was much more in-depth than the flyer the girl at the diner had given you.

"Now, is the connecting room okay, sweetheart?" She asked again, though there was not a single note of annoyance in her voice.

"Oh--yes. That will be perfect." You glanced back up at her, eyebrows raised subconsciously.

You pay quickly for both of the rooms before Bucky--who had been standing behind you silently--could fight you on it. Barbara hands you the two key cards, and you hand Bucky one. Taking the flyer with you, you give Barbara one final 'thank you' and a smile, before heading to the elevator.

Bucky presses the button for the 2nd floor, where your rooms are. You study the flyer.

"Neither of us have anything to wear to it." He tries to reason as the elevator door opens.

Walking down the hallway, you continue to argue with him. "I'm sure there's at least one store that sells stuff specifically for the festival. Barbara--the receptionist--said that the festival brings in a bunch of tourists, so they have to have something around here." You said optimistically as you both opened the doors to your hotel rooms.

It had been easy to find a store selling dresses made to look like they were from the 1940's. The Brandon Center, the little store that could only be found in Brandon Briar, had an overwhelming amount of them. You'd left Bucky to find whatever he needed, you instead opting to browse through all the pretty dresses. There was a large selection, filled with pretty prints and colors.

Bucky, perhaps ten minutes ago, had interrupted your browsing to tell you that he was going to wait in the car. You had simply nodded, quickly glancing at the bag he carried.

A stunning red dress caught your eye. It had a little belt to go around your waist, with 3/4 satin-cuffed sleeves and a matching satin heart-shaped collar.

Sure, there were other dresses in a similar color, but once you saw this one, there was no going back. You checked the tag, making sure that it would fit.

Grinning once you saw that it did, you took the hanger off the rack before looking through the jewelry stand. When you found nothing that fit your style, you sighed.

Walking to the register, and you were greeted by a woman, probably in her sixties. Her hair was dyed blonde, which looked good with her blue eyes. She wore black eyeliner all the way around her eye, with thick mascara to match. She grinned, a heavy country accent coming in thick when she spoke. Though you'd only spoken to a few locals, they all seemed to have the same accent.

"Hiya! Will this be all for you today?" She had a nametag on her floral blouse. Brenda.

Nodding, you reply. "Yes."

"Okay. Oh..this is a pretty thing. You plannin' on comin' out by the old diner for the dance tonight?" She laid the dress out on the counter, examining it.

"Yeah. It's..it's in that little square, right? I saw the string lights this morning when I was driving by, but I didn't really have time to look."

"Yes, yes. The decorations are always gorgeous. Wait a minute..oh, this is from Mr. Lee." She said, beginning to fold the dress. When she noticed your confused expression, she grinned.

"A while back, we had a guy donate a bunch of old dresses like this after his wife passed. His wife was friends with that lady Peggy Carter, funnily enough. Anyway, we kept a bunch of those dresses in the back for a few years. Some were altered, made bigger or smaller or even just turned into somethin’ brand new. Forgot all about them. Until now, that is."

You nodded, though the mention of Steve's almost-kind-of-basically girlfriend startled you. A younger girl, maybe a college student, stepped out from the door next to the register. The creaky wooden floor announced the presence of another customer, as did the bell on the door.

"Aunt Brenda, can you help Ms. Owens? She wanted to look at that green dress I told you about." The girl said. Her hair was brown and straight, going down to her waist.

"Oh, yes." Brenda turned back to you. "Stacy will ring you up." She explained, placing the folded dress into a white paper shopping bag.

She walked out from behind the counter, Stacy taking her place.

"Sorry about that." The girl—Stacy—apologized. "That'll be $23.99. Hero's discount."

When she glanced up to you, she smiled a little. "Don't worry. You blend in a lot. Most of the people here are older, and anyone who isn't is just a young couple coming here for the festival. My great aunt and my grandma live up here, so I stay here every summer to help with the store." She assured.

Once you paid, she waved you goodbye as you walked out of the shop. Bucky was waiting in the driver's seat of the truck, scrolling on his phone.

"Y'know it starts at 6:00, right?" He asked when he heard the truck door open.

"It's 3:15, we'll be fine." You rolled your eyes, buckling your seatbelt. You didn't say much on the drive to the hotel, instead thinking about what else you were going to wear.

Bucky stood inside of his hotel room, not sure what to do. You had decided to close your door to his room, and he decided to do the same. Just because your rooms were connected didn’t mean you would go into each other’s rooms. That was weird, right?

He showered quickly, before getting dressed. He felt stupid as he glanced at himself in the mirror. He knew how he was supposed to look, but none of this felt...right. He tied his hair into a low ponytail, just to keep it out of his face.

He opened his door to your room, just to be met with your door closed. He knew it was going to be closed. Of course it would be closed. There was no reason he should feel so...disappointed.

Disappointed? No. No. Bucky was sure of it. He barely tolerated you. You were annoying, and you liked starting fights for no reason. Ever since he’d arrived at the Avenger’s Compound, you were nothing but cold and nasty towards him. The first time he’d met you, you’d made an angry face at him before ignoring his existence.

But he couldn't deny the feeling of excitement he got when he saw your name light up on his phone.

Ready.

That was the entire text message. And somehow, a single word made his stomach feel light. Without typing a reply, he stepped into the hallway of the hotel, before he saw you.

A/n: my taglist doesn’t work for some reason??? I can’t tag more than a few people on a post before it just stops linking them. Let me know if it still tags you even without the link thing. Idk, it pisses me off sm. I hope this still gets the same reach??? 🧚

Taglist: @afraidofshrimp @laughterafter @cjand10 @kandis-mom @emmsybucky@mrsnotfeelingsogood @matchat3a @identity2212 @ilovemcuff @unaxv @mysticalfuncollectorus @highwaytomichelle @lilbloggs @ordelixx @skiemi-blog @allieb913 @winterslove1917

note that this is the only series I’ll be doing a taglist for, but let me know in the comments if you’d like to join!

Reblog if you enjoyed!

dividers by @saradika-graphics

[corruptedcaps]

Fake Week

“What kind of sicko are you Kane? I will not wear this… this butt plug. Its bad enough I have to pretend to be your girlfriend for a month so you’ll stop bullying Kevin but I’m not going indulge you in this sick game and wear some lewd sex toy of yours. I don’t care if this is what all your exes did! You’ll knock it down to just a week if I do? Alright fine but I’m cleaning it first. Maybe cleaning it more than once.”

“Are you happy now Kane? No you don’t get to check it! No wonder you’re single, you’re such a creep! Oh sure you wanted to see it was fitting fine and not hurting me? Yeah right how stupid do you think I am? And besides it fits perfectly, like really perfect actually. I uh got to go.”

“Yeah so what if I’m putting on makeup? I figured if I’m going to sell being your girlfriend I should probably start looking like those vapid bitches you are used to dating. Plus this is so easy, don’t know why I didn’t try it before. It’s just an act, you’re still a creep and once today is done I’ll be one day closer to not having to pretend to be your girlfriend!”

“It’s called yoga Kane. All you exes are flexible, athletic bitches so I thought I might as well act like I care about this stuff. I have to say though I’ve seen such a crazy improvement in just a few hours. It’s like magic! I can stretch and twist like never before and I’ve seen improvements in other areas too. Areas I see you’re checking out you cheeky bastard. I guess it is a pretty amazing ass now so I’ll allow it but don’t get any ideas, I’m just your fake girlfriend for 5 more days.”

“I never noticed how long my hair had gotten lately, it was getting in my face all the time during yoga so I decided to put it into a high ponytail, you know like one of your exes, and it’s so freeing. I used to think it was so bitchy looking but now honestly I think it’s sexy like this don’t you think? Of course you agree, I can see that bulge in your pants ‘babe’. Hmmm it’s kind of hawt seeing someone other that Kevin be turned on by me. Even with him it’s so few and far between lately. Maybe in four days when I’m back to being his girlfriend he’ll like this new hairstyle.”

“Ugh why are my so called friends so annoying today? They were complaining that I was saying mean things about Margo. All I said was if she wanted to ever get a guy she should maybe lay off the ice cream once and awhile. It’s not my fault the fatty started to cry. She should thank me for being honest with her. I should be more honest with the lot of them and kick them to the curb but they’re the only friends I’ve got. You’ve heard Amber and Mercedes want to be friends with me? The two biggest bully’s in school, but they are pretty cool and fashionable unlike these other dweebs. Maybe I’ll give them a text, thanks for the encouragement…. babe.”

“You were right about Amber and Mercedes. We texted all day yesterday and met up at the mall and went shopping. They convinced me to throw out all my lame clothes and buy a totally new look. It’s mostly pink and tight and sexy as hell. They also convinced me about something else. About you. I’ve been such a brat to you these past few days and you’ve been nothing but a gentleman to me. It’s time you got some sort of reward for your troubles. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t going to be a reward for me too. Just stand there looking handsome as hell and I’ll do the rest.”

“Hey baby, last night was mmmm really hawt but don’t tell anyone ok? I don’t want Kevin to know that I cheated on him last night… or this morning… or in your car later today. I can’t help it if you can’t keep your hands off me. I mean who can blame you? Plus you are MY boyfriend for two more days. Of course I told Amber and Mercedes though, they’re my besties, I had to tell them. Plus they were so impressed by what a bitchy thing my cheating was that they made me their new leader. Wasn’t your ex their old leader? Well I’m going to being even badder and bitchier than she was. Mmm that’s making me so horny. Fuck it let’s go to your car now.”

“Last day of our ‘relationship’. It’s only right that we get all the fucking in that we can. Glad to see your stamina is up to the task. Kevin wouldn’t last a fraction that you are capable of. What a fucking loser, can’t believe I have to go back to him tomorrow. Why am I doing this again? To stop you bullying him? He deserves to be bullied and you’re soooo hawt doing it. I never admitted since putting in the butt plug I’ve been touching myself at night thinking about you wailing on him. You’re so much more of a man than he ever will be. You know what? Fuck him. I deserve a strong, mean, and hot as hell boyfriend and you deserve a bitchy queen bee of a girlfriend. Kevin deserves to be the victim. Forgot our deal, I’m yours for good now and Kevin is all yours.”

“Oh the jacket? It belongs to my boyfriend, Kane. You know, your bully? Me date you? As if loser, I’ve always been Kane’s girl and always will. It’s like I was made for him. You’re just some simping creep who’s wanted in my panties for years. Everyone knows it, because my beta besties Amber and Mercedes are telling them right now. Those two can spread news like wildfires. You’ll be a pariah by the end of the day. Kane will be cheered on for bullying you. Mmmm speaking of which here he comes. Don’t forget to cry, it makes me so wet when you do.”

[actual-greenninja]

Maybe I'm not so bad after all..

A Genya x fem! Reader fanfic🪻(modern au)

--------------------------~°★★★°~----------------------------

★Synopsis:

This is a sequel to my first ever Fanfiction: 'I don't want to hurt you guys like how he hurt me'. I recommend that you read that one first, but if you are too triggered by arguing, crying and harsh treatment then the fic is NOT for you. Long story short Genya accidentally hurts you Infront of your kids during an argument. This is after you guys make up— the next morning infact, where things are still a little on edge, but much better

Author's note: this is fluff with a bit of angst but mainly fluff. I kinda forgot about the first story so sorry if it isn't the best. Also this wasn't proof read

--------------------------~°★★★°~----------------------------

The events of the previous night slowly dissapeared into nothingness as you fell asleep with your little family. Despite what happend last night you felt closer to your family than ever, atleast that all you could think of as you drifted off to sleep with your bundles of joy. Genya however...

Not so much

He couldn't sleep at all infact. Short moments of slumber but it would just lead to him waking up in the dead of night once again. He couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that coursed through his veins. The feeling that he didn't deserve to have you, or his children in his arms right now. He felt like a complete monster, no matter how much he apologised that night. Constant memories of his past would flash before his eyes like a flickering light bulb.

Memories of his adolescents, memories of his father. Memories of his mother. Memories of his siblings. All of which were not good at all. All that was ringing in his ears were screaming and crying, wether it was from years back, or just a few hours ago. He felt like a monster. He felt like his father.

It was currently 5am. And obviously after last night, you'd all be asleep. Except Genya of course, who was getting out of bed. He wasn't getting out of bed to go to work though, not at all. He called in sick— because how could he go to work when his beautiful wife and children still deserved so much more after what he did? He couldnt bare the thought. So he silently put on his tracksuit jacket and his sneakers, trying to make as little noise as possible. Unfortunately, despite his best efforts even the slightest creek of the floor board was enough to get one of your son's stirring awake. He opened his little eyes tiredly, looking around weakly until his eyes landed on his father. I yawned tiredly, sitting up. He looked adorable, wearing his little Spiderman pajama set. You could see his little belly poking out as he sat in a hunched position.

"Daddy... Daddy... Where'you goin...." He mumbled, still half asleep. Genya couldn't help but smile. I quietly made his way to him and kissed him on both his chubby little cheeks. Genya then whispered softly, his eyes appearing softer than ever as he gazed apon the little bundle of joy. "Daddy is gonna be back soon. It's gonna be a suprise, but only if you go back to sleep, okay, bud?" He whispered with a soft smile. His son smiled aswell, a bit of his gapped teeth becoming visible. I nodded a little 'mhm' before laying back down and cuddling into your side.

"that's my little soldier. You look after mommy and your sister" he whispered before quietly leaving the room.

Your whole argument yesterday started because he wasn't at home often anymore— and damn it, he was gonna fix that. That's what ran through his head as he stepped out the front door, the cool grass cracking beneath his sneakers. The sun's light illuminated the car you both shared, as if calling out to him with its shiny grey hood. He got in and turned on the engine, ready to drive off and make things right for when his family wakes up.

--------------------------~°★★★°~----------------------------

About two hours had past since then and you slowly started to wake up, smiling softly at the sight. You saw both your son's cuddled up into your sides, and your daughter resting on your chest. "My sweet angels" you whispered, admiring how the sun's rays that cast through the blinds fell perfectly on their chubby little faces. Though your heart sank when you saw Genya wasn't beside you. Damn... Did he really go to work again? It was all you could wonder as you laid there, staring up at the cold ceiling.

It took a little bit of manoeuvring to get your kids to remain asleep as you got up from bed, putting on the fluffy rabbit gown Genya got you a few months ago. You yawned, sitting on the bed as you thought about last night for a few moments. You brushed it off though, the thoughts being too much for so early in the morning. You gave your babies one last look of pure love and adoration before you left the bedroom and headed for the kitchen.

You stood at the bedroom door in shock, barely able to take another step as you took in the scene before you.

Genya stood in the middle on the room, a large bouquet of flowers in his hands, his face appearing nervous as his legs looked like they were about to buckle. On the kitchen table their was breakfast already set out for all of us. Baby food, eggs, chicken nuggets, croissants, toast, muffins. You name it, it was on that table. The couch was filled with toys for our sons and stuffed animals for your daughter. He smiled softly and walked over to you

"h- hey. You surprised?" He asks nervously. His whole face was red, his scar on his face barely evident. He held the bouquet of flowers out to you, his palms sweating furiously. He cleared his throat, taking a breath before speaking

"Sweetheart. My love... What I did.. I.." he was stuttering. He was so overwhelmed with emotions but he tried to gather himself "I don't know why I hurt you. Why I hurt our children, our relationship. I hate myself, I truly do because I can't bare the thought of making you or our kids sad like that ever." He sniffled slightly but he refused to break eye contact with you. "I don't want to hurt you guys the same way he hurt me" he trembled out. He looked up at you with pleading eyes as the whole world felt like it went still, just for the two of you. "I can't let it happen again, and I won't let it happen again" he says softly. "Will... Will you find it in your heart to forgive me..?'

He asked with a pleading tone as he looked down at you. You could see the hope in his eyes and the nervous ess in his body language. You stared at him for a few moments before you just stook a step forward and hugged him tightly, causing him to drop the bouquet. You say with a soothing voice, filled with comfort "I know, my love... I know" is all you could mutter. Genya could barely contain himself as he felt tears brew in his eyes. He immediately started to kiss you all over your face, whispering sweet nothings to you as you stood in the kitchen together.

"I love you. Fuck, I love you. I love our family, our children, or life, our—" he could barely talk with how much he kissed you. He whispered softly "I don't want to feel like I'm gonna lose our family like this again" he whimpered. You both felt so complete, so at peace after this. You were both given the comfort of eachother and the life you both had built together after a long time. He held you close, his face beet red. He wasn't his use to being so lovey dovey. He then whispered to you with a chuckle.

"help we wake up our babies, yeah? I want them to see the fortune I spent on them" he teased. He then looked down at your face and smiled with so much warmth.

"and... I decided we should all go to the park today. I want to give you guys the quality time you deserve.."

"let me do that for us. For me. For you... My love"

He held you tightly for a brief moment before heading with you to wake up your little kiddos. He couldn't help but smile as he watched you walk into the bedroom to wake up his kids. Because the moment he sees their happy faces he knows that he will never be more content with his life. Because if he knows that he can make you and your family smile... Then maybe he isn't so bad afterall

--------------------------~°★★★°~----------------------------

Yayyyy!!! This is finally over!! This is kinda quick. I just wanted to give a better conclusion to the first story. I hope this counts as therapy for some of you!! Re blogs are appreciated as always, hope you like it

Spreading Lots of love to all my fellow abusive house hold livers 🌷🎀💕💕💗💗💗

[justlemmeadoreyou]

windfall | (mechanic!harry part2)

summary: part 2 to this

word count: 2k

warnings: cursing

masterlist | ask box(requests are open!)

As you walked away from the garage, frustration and annoyance built up within you. Harry's indifferent and grumpy attitude was not making this situation any easier. You considered finding another garage, but deep down, you knew that might not be a feasible option given the state of your car.

You didn’t even want to go to work today. Sleeping curled up in the backseat of the car had made your body sore, especially your back. But leaving work would mean staying at the garage all day, listening to scolds from Harry, and you didn’t want that either.

So, you decided to go to work.

Walking to the nearest bus stop, you managed to get a bus that dropped you off near your office, but you still would have to walk half a mile.

Great.

You reached the office after about an hour, completely disheveled and tired. You had gotten a bit sweaty too, that failed the purpose of taking a shower, and you were already in the need of another.

Walking in, the receptionist as well as the other few looked at you judgmentally, but you successfully managed to ignore them, too tired to start a conversation and explain your circumstances.

Walking to your worn-out leather chair, you threw your bag on the table, and slumped down on the chair. You looked at your computer, and then at the pile of files you had on your table, as well as the reports you had to finish working on, to get signed by Jake, your boss. You pouted; it was so much work for just one person. The worn-out chair creaked as you shifted, contemplating how to tackle the mountain of tasks in front of you.

Turning on the computer, you got up from your chair, and decided to go for a coffee run.

Turning the coffee machine on, and placing your cup below, you stared at the liquid pouring down as it gradually filled the cup. After a few moments, another person entered the room, and you looked over your shoulder.

Thankfully, it was your friend, Mia.

Mia was one of the very few girls in the office who worked at the same position as you, and you two had grown really close over the past  6 months, when she had driven you home one night from the bar, you had been really wasted and she was he only one sober. She had made you drink water, take a Tylenol, and tucked you in.  She was so caring.

She walked with a smile up to you, proceeding to retrieve her own cup. She then came and stood next to you, while the machine was still filling up your cup.

“Morning.”

“Morning. You look tired. What happened?” she asked. You sighed and frowned, as all of the things that had happened in just the last 24 hours came rushing back, making you want to cry so bad.

“Yeah, I took the bus, and walked like, half a mile to reach here”

“Oh god. What about your car?”

“It totaled. And my apartment too, it’s gone. My landlord kicked me out.”

“Jesus, that’s awful. So you slept in your car?”

“Mhm” you removed your cup, and replaced it with hers. Taking a sip, you closed your eyes as it cascaded down your throat. You hadn’t eaten anything since yesterday afternoon, and the coffee gave you some energy to finish some of your work, till the afternoon at least.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” she frowned too, feeling sorry for you.

“It’s alright. Should have seen that coming. I mean, I spent so much money on the concert tickets last month, I almost went broke. I couldn’t even pay rent, and it was due since so many months”

“Still. That’s so bad. If you want, you can stay at mine for a few days. My roommate has gone for a trip and I think she’ll come back next week”

Your eyes brightened. She was such a gem. You immediately put your cup down, and hugged her.

“Thank you so much. So so much”

Rest of the day went by great. You were able to submit 5 reports, and completed most of the files and cleared them off your desk. You had finally managed to find a place to live, at least for the next few days, and you were sure you could figure something out till then.

Walking back to the garage, you had a cute smile on your face. The prospect of having a place to stay for the next few days infused you with a sense of relief, and not having to see Harry everyday was an added advantage.

Reaching the garage, you spotted your car and walked to it. There was someone down below, working on it. You decided to sit by for a bit, to find Harry and tell him about the new conditions. Surely, he will be glad to see less of you throughout the week.

You knocked the hood of the car, hoping the person below would listen.

He came sliding out, but he wasn’t Harry.

And he was gorgeous. Bright blue eyes, with brunette hair. He was wearing a tank-top, the shirt tied around his waist. There was a bit of grease here and there, but you didn’t mind.

“Yeah?”

You blinked and shook your head, bringing your eyes back up to his face.

“Uh-yeah. I was just-I came to ask that-Oh-this-this is my car. I wanted to ask, is there any progress?” you stumbled a bit around your words, but managed to blurt out at least an understandable sentence.

“Oh, yeah. I checked the engine and it was…well, in a bad condition. I will have to replace the air filters, check the exhaust and combustion, and the fuel too. Will have to replace the battery too”

He got up, cleaning his hands on a stray cloth.

“Oh. It’s not totaled yet, is it?”

“No, lord no.  It’ll be much lower than that. How much did you buy this for?”

“About 35,000 dollars”

“Nope, this will be about 600 dollars.”

“Oh, thank god. I met, Harry? In the morning. And he scared me so bad. I felt that it was gone”

“No, he just likes to give hard time to everyone. I’m Niall, by the way” he extended his hand for a handshake, and you gladly did.

“Hi. I’m Y/N. And he really scared me so much.”

“Yeah, he just does that so people use their cars better. Or at least live in fear till the repair is done. “

You shook your head, and remembered that you had to pack up your stuff, since Mia, and the moving truck was going to be here soon.

“That’s so bad. Is he around?”

“Yeah, he’s in the back. I’ll call him.”

“Sure”

He went in and came back after a while, and Harry still had his nose scrunched up, and shoulders slumped, hands crossed in the front.

“What’s up?” he asked.

“Oh-I wanted to tell you that-my friend, she offered me her apartment for a while, so for a week, I will be living with her. So I’ll take my stuff away and you can take my number, call me if it’s done.”

“Cool. But I don’t do calls. You’ll have to be come and check yourself”

“Don’t be a dick” Niall interrupted, “I can take your number. I’ll call you if it’s done early”

You smiled, and gave him your number. He promised to call you, and reassured you that he’ll do his best work on it. It made you feel a bit relaxed, and at ease. At least, everyone was not as rude as Harry. Soon, Mia came with her car and a truck, so you could move your stuff from your old apartment as soon as possible. There wasn’t much: a couch, two almirahs, your bed which had been dissembled, the mattress a TV, a refrigerator, an oven, kitchen utensils and an induction. Some other small appliances too, like the iron, straightener, etc, but that could fit in your bag.

After everything was loaded and your car was empty, you gave the keys to Niall, and picked up your bag, walking to Mia’s car and keeping it in the backseat. You went around and sat in the front, as she drove away to her place, the truck following behind.

The night was dark as Mia's car cruised through the quiet streets. You sat in the front seat, staring out of the window as the city lights blurred and headlights blinked. The stress of your car and the situation of next week, when her roommate would be back, still lingered on your shoulders. But, you were glad to have found a temporary refuge at her place.

Upon reaching Mia's place, you stepped out of the car. The air inside was cozy and inviting. Mia led the way, and you followed suit, hauling your heavy back awkwardly.

After moving your stuff to a corner, you both slumped down on the couch. The day had been tiring, but the welcoming aroma of her home made you feel at ease.

With Mia's help, you settled into the spare room she had graciously offered. It wasn't much, but it was a haven compared to the uncertainty of your car. You thanked Mia again, overwhelmed by her kindness, and assured her that you would find a more permanent solution soon.

The night unfolded with shared laughter, stories, and a home-cooked meal. Mia was a great cook, and you hadn’t tasted her food in so many months. You talked and laughed, and having dinner with a friend was so comforting. As the clock ticked away, fatigue set in, and you found solace in the softness of the spare bed.

Morning light filtered through the curtains, gently waking you from a restful sleep. You opened your bag and took out your toiletries, and laid out the clothes for the day. Brushing your teeth, freshening up and taking a bath, you felt so much better than you did yesterday.

As you sat on the dining table drinking coffee with Mia, your phone buzzed.

It was an unknown number.

Hey, it’s Niall

Your heartbeat increased in your chest. The gorgeous brunette had messaged you?!

You put the cup down, taking the phone down. Opening his chat, you quickly typed out a reply:

Hi, good morning, Niall :)

You didn’t respond to texts from unknown mechanics with a good morning message and a smile usually, but he was different. He treated you with so much kindness, and to be honest, you had a little crush on him.

His response was quick,

Morning, love. How you been? Sleep well?

Your heart fluttered at the endearment in his message. It was unexpected, especially considering your recent interactions with mechanics, particularly the grumpy Harry. Niall's tone was a stark contrast, and you couldn't help but smile at the screen.

Yeah, slept better knowing my car is in good hands. Thanks again for your help. And you?

you replied, genuinely interested in how his night had been.

Niall's response was swift,

Glad to hear that! I slept like a log, thanks. You off to work? Yeah. You? Already there. Was working on your car just before I texted Oh. Well…good luck, I guess??? Lol. Yeah, it's all in a day's work. Don't worry; I've got it covered. Your car will be up and running smoothly in no time. Thanks, Niall. I appreciate it. No worries, love. Call me if you need anything. Sure, thanks

You closed your phone, throwing it inside your bag, you walked out to the door with a huge smile on your face.

a/n: i tried writing it better!hoip

lovely divider by @cafekitsune

i hope you like this! please don't hate me

here's my ko-fi if you feel generous

requests and feedback is welcome and much appreciated!!

>>>

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[outerbankies]

happy early thanksgiving! are nl rafe and reader celebrating a california friendsgiving this year or do they give their families yet another chance? :)

i meaaaaaan - since you asked, and since thanksgiving is a new light national holiday!

—

new light: smaller acts - rafe cameron

nl masterlist

“I don’t think there’s much we can do, Mr. Cameron. I’m really very sorry.”

Ward’s travel agent, Stephanie, had exhausted every option; at least, all of the ones she could think of combined with every suggestion Rafe could think of to throw at her. Denver, Dallas, Atlanta—every connection flying into anywhere near the Outer Banks for Thanksgiving was getting cancelled. 

Stephanie had been Rafe’s last resort. He’d already flashed every credit card he had at every ticket counter in the entire airport, he’d tried using his airline status and the points he’d built up (if there was one thing his father had taught him, it was the importance of airline status), he’d even looked up trains to farther airports that could fly you guys out to an airport even farther from the OBX, he’d worry about rental car options if you could get anywhere within driving distance. Rafe had gone down every avenue he could think of, his urgency increasing as he watched reality sinking in on your face that Thanksgiving in the Outer Banks was just not happening for you two this year.

“How about if you sent us up North?” he tries, his last-ditch effort even though he’d already checked there, too. When you both arrived this morning, you blissfully unaware and Rafe having been tracking the storms all week, he’d kicked it into gear as soon as the slight delay had turned into cancellation. He thought you’d be safe when you checked in for your flights last night with no issues, but no dice.

Three hours later and with no happy ending in sight, Rafe would take a four-leg journey with layovers that barely gave you enough time to run between gates, squished into a middle seat at the back of the plane, with no less than three crying babies just for good measure, if it meant seeing that smile of relief on your face when you realized he’d figured it all out for you. 

But you don’t even look hopeful anymore, not stressed or worried either, but resigned and melancholy, sitting across from him with your legs propped up on your carry-on bag. 

“We don’t need to be seated together,” he adds.

“I really wish I could, Rafe,” Stephanie sighs, but Rafe can hear she’s stopped typing in the background. The fact that he even got a hold of her today was a miracle, and he’s sure Ward’s loyalty over the years gave him a boost. “There’s just nothing that won’t cost you both an arm and a leg. Everything’s oversold, you’d be standby only. And even if I did book you on something, cancellations and delays are likely in this weather.”

“I appreciate you trying, Stephanie, I really do,” Rafe sighs. “I can let you go now.”

“I’m really sorry I couldn’t do more for you two,” she says sympathetically. “I hope you enjoy your holiday regardless.”

Rafe wishes her likewise and hangs up the phone, surprised to see you already standing to gather your bags.

“So nothing?” you confirm.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Rafe says, nudging your hand away when you try to grab your own suitcase. He tucks a tendril of hair behind your ear, loose from how many times you’d pulled your hair back and tugged it down and pulled it back again. “I think even if we paid these last-minute prices, nothing is going home in these storms. I’d hate for us to end up halfway, spending Thanksgiving at some airport hotel in Atlanta.”

You nod in understanding, and he can tell you’re mentally picturing it, adjusting your hold on the bag over your shoulder, attempting to keep your head high. “How dare you not control the weather, Rafe Cameron.”

“You know I would if I could,” he answers easily. “Are you okay?”

Waiting to fly home until only the day before Thanksgiving had been a risky move in general, but you had an important meeting yesterday you just couldn’t get out of. Big wigs flying in from other offices, with no regard to their employees’ travel plans over the holiday weekend. So flying out first thing Wednesday had been the best bet to make it just in time for Kelce’s party (while really pushing it—like, Rafe saw you put your makeup in your carry-on bag pushing it) and of course for the actual holiday. 

Rafe had been keeping an eye on the storms as soon as they’d been forecasted, hoping the reports would be wrong and you’d manage to make it anyway. Will had texted him a news clip and Rafe had downloaded so many weather apps it was ridiculous. And he didn’t want to worry you with any of this during the week of your presentation, but maybe managing your expectations would’ve broken the fall today.

Rafe didn’t much care for everything that came with being home for any holidays, and he already hates himself a little for the feeling of relief he knows he’ll get as soon as he lets Ward know he’s not coming. But he cared for you more than he cared about any of that. And you wanted to be home.

You shrug, biting your bottom lip in a way that screams self-preservation. The airport’s a zoo, people are yelling and babies are crying, announcements of cancellations and gate changes blast through the crackly speakers.

“I don’t know yet,” you answer. “But can we leave?” 

Rafe leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Let’s go home.”

—

On the drive home from the airport, the two of you picked the dogs right back up from where you had left them only a few hours ago, meant to stay with one of Rafe’s friends, Stephen, for the weekend.

It wasn’t until Rafe had tucked you in on the couch with a chunky knit blanket and one dog in your lap and the other at your feet that your walls finally started to come down. The realization must have began to sink in that this might be it this year—you, Rafe, Sadie and Captain on the couches, eating whatever take-out sounded the best and was actually open.

“I’m gonna call my mom,” you say to break the silence, digging for your phone in the pile of fur and yarn.

“Maybe… let’s start with your dad,” Rafe suggests gently, causing a tiny smile to force its way onto your face. He’s standing in front of you, and you take his hand when it reaches out toward you, giving it a grateful squeeze before turning back to your phone.

“She’s gonna call me as soon as he tells her anyway, and I just wanna get it over with,” you say certainly, squeezing his hand one more time before pressing your phone to your ear. 

Rafe waits before you as your mom answers the phone after only a few rings, not really sure what his best move might be, but knowing it wouldn’t be anything that takes him away from you.

“Mom,” you finally say, your face crumpling immediately. “Our flight got cancelled. No, we won’t make it. We tried so hard—there’s this stupid storm, Mom—”

You cut yourself off because of the lump in your throat, but Rafe doesn’t take the phone from you until you press it into his hand, walking off with Captain trailing behind you and Sadie watching you go over the back of the couch.

“Mrs. Y/l/n?” Rafe says, trying his best to be heard over her never-ending monologue. “It’s Rafe.”

“Rafe? What happened? What does she mean you aren’t coming?” your mom asks. Rafe can picture her, crystal clear, a hand on her hip in the dining room, wearing a cashmere sweater as she checks the table is perfectly laid for tomorrow’s festivities. “Ha! This is a joke. Was she joking?”

“No,” Rafe says. “I wish she was. But the airport was brutal. That storm is gonna nail the Carolinas all weekend, and there’s just no way we’ll get through it. I promise we tried everything, and we’re really gonna miss you guys this year.”

It’s quiet for a while on the other end, and all of his friends who were afraid of their girlfriends’ fathers should be glad they’ll never have to deal with Shannon. 

“I’m passing the phone to her father,” she finally says after a momentary silence. “I can’t hear this. Actually, I won’t.”

Rafe balks at this. “Wait—”

“Rafe? What’s going on?” 

Rafe sighs, rubbing a hand over his eyes. That now pointless early-morning wakeup was starting to get to him. “Hi. Mr. Y/l/n. I’m sorry. I don’t know how much you heard, but our flight got cancelled.”

Your dad hums, and Rafe can picture Will, too, probably in a pair of sweatpants and fresh off of a conference call, poking his head out of his office at the sound of your mom’s concern. He’s suddenly struck by the fact that he actually is gonna miss seeing both of them this weekend, prodding questions aside.

“I was really hoping you guys would miss the weather,” Will says, sounding a lot calmer than your mom at least. Rafe wonders if he hadn’t filled your mom in on this possibility either. 

“It sounds like everything going back East just collapsed. We can’t get in through Florida, Boston, New York. Anything, ” Rafe explains. He cranes his neck to hopefully see up the stairs, but you’d disappeared into the bedroom, so that’s where Rafe heads. “I swear I tried everything I could think of to get us out there, Mr. Y/l/n. It just isn’t happening.”

“I’m sure you did,” Will says. “Don’t worry about that. We’re gonna miss you both.”

“We’ll miss you, too,” Rafe says, his heart dropping when you emerge from the ensuite bathroom with tears still streaming down your face. 

“But really. Nothing?” Will presses, last-ditch effort evident in his tone. “I doubt the plane will be much help, but you know we’d spot your tickets.”

“And I might have actually let you if I could be sure it’d get us there,” Rafe says, welcoming you into his one open arm, pressing a kiss into your hairline when your hand grabs at his shirt. 

“Alright,” Will sighs. “Put my daughter on the phone now, would you?”

“Yes, sir.”

—

Rafe had barely left your side since the two of you returned home, letting you cry it out in his arms once you finished talking with your dad, not hearing any apology you had about your display of emotions, the fact that your stupid work commitment had been the catalyst for all of this.

And then fell asleep for a little, waking from the nap you had planned to be taking on the plane today after your ungodly wake-up time this morning only when you heard him on the phone with his own family. That phone call seemed a lot shorter and a lot less emotional than yours, so you knew he must have been talking to Ward.

“Are you a relieved at all?” you ask him, before you're even fully awake, picking at one of the buttons on his henley as he finished up his call. 

“Honestly?” he says, putting his phone on the side table by the bed before rolling onto his side and facing you. “Yeah, a little. But I’d rather deal with your mom’s friends asking us when we’re getting married than see you this upset.”

“I more meant with Ward.”

“Ward’s a known entity,” he says casually, but you know he’s probably glad to be off the hook. You hated traveling back home on your own, but you knew Rafe’s little storm cloud would reappear the moment you touched the dock. “I never had to deal with the Island Club ladies confronting me at the pharmacy and the grocery store about when I’m ‘finally settling down’ before you.”

“Maybe they’ll think we’re actively eloping instead,” you say. “I’ll post a beach picture so everyone thinks we’re in Hawaii or something.”

“Maybe you wear something white,” he says, tugging at the hem of your shirt. 

Silence stretches between the two of you, your jokes as a coping mechanism disappearing as quickly as they came. 

“How can I make it better, baby girl?” Rafe asks.

“Get your pilot license like you’ve been talking about for years so you can fly us through this storm before Kelce’s party tonight.”

“I texted him while you were asleep,” Rafe says. “I was gonna tell him to take it easy on you when you called to cancel, but he’s not gonna make it home either.” 

“No,” you say, propping yourself up on your elbow suddenly. “What?”

“Yeah,” Rafe confirms. “He did the same runaround. He told me he just barely made it onto a flight this morning, but they deplaned right before they were supposed to take off.” 

“Hmph,” you groan, the visual of your best friend alone in his high-rise apartment on his favorite day of the year making you feel even worse. You’ll have to call him eventually and bully his plans for the holiday out of him so you can make sure he’ll at least be treating himself to some nice take-out and calling his mom. 

None of this was right. You should all be three sheets to the wind at one of your favorite bars right now, or trying to sneak into Gretchen’s basement without a lecture from her dad that you’re all way too old for before the pregame. You should have spent the evening doing your makeup while Rafe sits on the tub in your bathroom and watches, fetching things from your suitcase when you need them, refilling your wine and nodding along to all of the island gossip you’d been able to catch up on. 

You should be gossiping in the kitchen with your mom, with Rose, with Sarah and Wheezie, while Rafe gets his fix of time with your father and serves his sentence of time with his own, respectively. Rafe should be whispering wisecracks about your little brother’s douchey boyfriend that’s somehow managed to hang around for this long in your ear during cocktail hour, and you should be shaking your head in disbelief as John B regales you with another insane story about his antics with his friends. 

You should have gotten out of that meeting, the one that went extremely well that you can’t even be happy about anymore. You knew Rafe wanted to ask about it, but after dinner with some higher-ups you’d raced home and thrown yourself into the last-minute packing before passing out.

You should be almost anywhere but where you are, but at least you’re still with Rafe.

“I know,” Rafe says. “I know it sucks. I wish I could fix it, baby.”

“Again, I find it so rude you can’t control the weather or fly us through it yourself. I’ll be sure to require that when I’m scouting for my next boyfriend,” you say. 

“And when might that be?”

“Probably after the holidays, when I have the time.”

You squeal when Rafe’s hands grab at your middle, his fingers digging in until you’re pressed as close to him as you can be. Captain jumps on the bed, worming his way in between you two.

“You say something so mean when you know I can’t be mad at you,” Rafe says against the shell of your ear. 

You giggle, humming contentedly when he presses a kiss to your neck. “You love me.”

“I do.” 

“So,” you say. 

“So,” he echoes. 

“We called our parents, you talked to Kelce,” you say.

“Did you text the girls?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you say, reaching for your phone and swiping through what had come in since you fell asleep. “And Dylan’s been blowing me up, so my parents must have told him.”

“At least we don’t have to sit through a meal with Everett,” Rafe says, cracking a smile at your offended look. “Come on. I’m sorry, but your brother’s boyfriend sucks.”

Everett does suck, and you’ll collect all of the silver linings where you can get them. No Ward, no Everett, no Chloe and no Griffin. 

“I wonder who would’ve had the guest house this year.”

“If your mom gave it to me again, we might have had to brave my dad’s,” Rafe says.

“What’d your dad say? On the phone earlier?”

“That he’ll miss us. He sends his best, said he knew you’d be upset,” Rafe says. “And that Rose will miss your pumpkin pie. I wanna call my sisters and John B tomorrow when they’re done with dinner.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you sigh, taking note of the rest of the texts from your friends, sending hearts and crying faces in the group chat when Topper complained about how the OBX is a ghost town this week and Blythe couldn’t join him later like they’d planned. He must have gone home earlier, what you wish you would’ve done. “We have to call Kelce, too. Maybe we can try to eat dinner at the same time with him on FaceTime.”

“Oh yeah. What do even wanna eat?” Rafe asks.

You groan, rolling onto your back. “My grandma’s peach pie.”

“Fuck,” Rafe answers. “I forgot about that.”

“It might be fun to do a small spread,” you venture to say. “I mean, I don’t know what the store will look like at this point. But do you think we could put something together?”

Rafe nods, and you can already see the grocery list forming in his head. He grabs the notepad he keeps beside the bed seconds later; your boyfriend might be the last person on earth who doesn’t use the app on his phone. “‘Course we can, even if we have to fight someone for the last sweet potato.” 

You sit up in excitement, an idea forming. “Should we invite people over?” 

Rafe raises his eyebrows, tapping the back of his pen against the pad. “Like who?”

“I don’t know. Anyone who’s around?”

“Sure,” he shrugs.

“Really? It’s okay if it’d be too much, we can totally just cook for two, or order in, or—”

“I love that you said ‘we’ can cook,” Rafe says. “You know you’re just going to take up counter space.”

You snatch the pad of paper out of his hands, hitting him on the arm with it. “I’ll set the table and straighten up the house, I promise.”

“And you’ll do it so well,” Rafe says, leaning in for a kiss. “I’m also putting you in charge of alcohol and rounding up the misfits.”

“I can do that,” you say, watching him continue to scrawl out ingredients for whatever he plans to cook while you take up counter space just like he said. 

You’ve been thinking all morning about how Stephen didn’t seem to have any plans this weekend, and about any of your local friends who also couldn’t get a flight out today. Even with a lot of them out of town, you’re hopeful you can partially fill up a table.

“Are we actually doing this, Rafe?”

“If I head to the store now, do you think you can call me with a headcount in the next hour? Do I need to get anything to help the table look pretty?”

“Yes. And no,” you say, already jumping up. “I have tons of stuff in the garage. I’ll just need help getting the boxes down. Oh, we might even get to bring in the extra chairs!”

“Then I think we’re doing this, Y/l/n.”

—

The two of you got barely any sleep last night. You’d shoved as many chairs as possible around your tiny dining room table, Rafe’s hand was cramping from the amount of potatoes he’d peeled, and you had several breakdowns about the tablescapes—and Rafe can’t remember the last time he had a better Thanksgiving. 

You’ve been practically buzzing around the house the last 24 hours, cleaning the entire house top to bottom, calling or texting anyone you could think of that might be alone today, handling any stressful part of this with the biggest smile on your face. 

Rafe doesn’t know how you managed to fill the table up as much as you did, to the point where one of your guests, Ms. Sanchez from two doors down—who always made sure to get your mail and water your plants while you were away—had to bring over a pair of extra chairs she had. Beside her is your friend from college Meredith, plus the guy she’s now dating, Henry. Beside them—and this one really threw Rafe for a loop, because he had no idea how you even managed to wrangle them—were two interns he used to work with during his time at Beau’s company, Sasha and Chase. They must have been as disinterested as you and Rafe were by the invite to Beau and Agnes’ gigantic, catered spread. Across the table is Stephen, who did in fact have nowhere to go today, and was extremely grateful to make the cut. 

“This is enough food,” you say out loud, taking into account everything Rafe had managed to whip up, plus any of the dishes others had brought. “This is enough food, right? Or should I run back out really quick and—”

“It’s enough, baby,” Rafe assures you. “If anything, your gigantic charcuterie gave us a nice cushion.”

Despite Rafe’s jokes, you had been a huge help in the kitchen today—about as huge as you could be before Ms. Sanchez, the first to arrive, had shooed you away and taken the metaphorical reins from Rafe’s hands. He was glad to give them, and he can’t even believe how much food they’d managed to fix up on such short notice.

“No, yeah, you’re right. It’s enough. There’s eight of us—this is plenty for eight. And thank god Meredith brought that champagne, or—”

The doorbell chimes again like it had been all day, the noise breaking through the sound of charmingly awkward small talk and the playlist you’d curated into the wee hours of the morning while Rafe finished following your pumpkin pie recipe. 

“I’ll get it,” you tell him, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek, pulling back with your eyebrows furrowed. You readjust your hair, brushing invisible crumbs off of your sweater. “Although, I have no clue who it is at this point.”

“Tell them to pull up a chair,” Rafe says casually. He finishes stirring the mashed potatoes just in time to peek his head around the doorway leading out of the kitchen, just barely catching the look on your face when you open the door.

“What the hell?” you ask, your arms thrown around Kelce in a grip that looks bone-crushing a millisecond. “Why are you at my house? Why are you here?”

Kelce laughs, and Rafe catches his nod, a smile on his own face now. “You didn’t actually think you could do Thanksgiving without me, did you?”

“But how did you… what? Oh my god. Rafe, Rafe! Look who…” you trail off, and Rafe smiles proudly, accepting another kiss to the cheek once you tug Kelce into the kitchen. “You did this.”

“I mean…” he shrugs. Kelce doesn’t skip the decimated charcuterie board on his way into the kitchen, fist bumping Rafe only after collecting the last few pieces of cheese.

“Nailed it,” Kelce says. “But a little upset she didn’t cry.”

“If it helps, I don’t think she had any left in her after thinking about you ordering take-out all alone.”

You look between the two of them, shaking your head in disbelief as Kelce kisses your check. “How did you even get out here? I checked flights this morning. There’s still nothing.”

“Nothing going home. But there’s plenty of flights coming here,” Kelce says. “And your boyfriend even split the price for the extra legroom seat with me.”

You hug Kelce tightly one more time before you start the rounds introducing him to everyone around the table, and he slots in as easily as someone like Kelce would be expected to, finding a seat between Stephen and Ms. Sanchez and a full glass of wine in front of him in no time, still in his plane clothes and everything. 

Rafe wipes his brow with the towel over his shoulder, before shutting the timer off on the oven and pulling the last dish out. He hears you come back into the kitchen, not turning when he hears you re-enter the kitchen.

“I think we’re about ready to eat—”

Rafe’s nearly knocked off balance by the way your arms encircle his neck, and his next worry after regaining his footing is that you might be about to cry again. You’d been doing so well on tears this morning, but only after the obligatory FaceTimes with both of your families had came and went. 

“You,” you say simply, pulling back. “You made this the best back-up Thanksgiving ever.”

“Baby,” Rafe says shyly. “Everyone in there is all you.”

“But you made all of this food, and you even got Kelce here, and really, Chase and Sasha technically, and—”

“We,” Rafe amends. “Yeah?”

“We,” you agree, and Rafe can see it written all over your face. This won’t be the last time you host Thanksgiving, and it might not even be the last time you do it in this house. The two of you are gonna have a million chances to have days like this one, to invite anyone you care for, to make the best out of a really shitty situation.

You and Rafe were a family now; you’d been his home for years. 

There was no Thanksgiving Eve blowout to leave you severely hungover this morning, no unruly or annoying younger siblings to tame on behalf of your parents. No moments between you and Wheezie making his heart melt, or between him and his father the make him yearn for your touch cross the room.

But Rafe knows he’ll have a more solid answer the next time he’s home and one of your mom’s gossipy friends asks when he’ll finally get around to proposing. And he hopes you happen to be at his side, his answer already evident with the jewelry adorning your left ring finger.

“Rafe?” you say, passing a plate off to Meredith, who’d come into the kitchen to help set the table.

“Sorry,” Rafe says, shaking his head, leaning in for one last kiss. “What did you say?”

“I was just… my meeting. It went really well. And I wanna tell you about it after dessert, okay?” you ask.

“Baby, that’s great,” he says, reaching around you to hand Henry a few hot pads. “I wanna hear everything.”

“You will,” you say, grabbing the last basket of bread and Rafe’s hand. “Now let’s eat.”

[repulsiveliquidation]

Angel in the House

Ona Batlle x Reader, Part 2.5 of [She's going to be okay.] [La Princesa] [Royalty]

Fluff, just fluff. Okay as I was writing the angsty writer in me came out and there is a little. Whoops.

Word count : 4.2k

“I’ll get her darling, you go back to bed.”

You climb out of bed and walk over to the cot that has a crying La Princesa. It’s two thirty in the morning, Eliana having woken the both of you up three time prior. Being a six-month-old wasn’t easy, she gave both her parents a run for their money.

“What’s wrong my girl?” you ask her quietly, picking her up gently. She’s fussing, you check her diaper but it’s clean. You quickly realize that she’s probably hungry, having been fed a few hours ago. You sigh, kissing Eliana on the forehead softly. You’re going to need to wake Ona, you had hoped you didn’t need to and she could sleep. She had bags under her eyes like you did but you had promised to take the night shifts since she was still on break from football and was home with Eliana the whole day. You slowly walk back over to the bed, rocking the still fussing Eliana.

“Ona?”

“Hm?”

“She’s hungry, hermosa. Can you feed her?”

Ona sits up and rubs her eyes. She looks extremely tired, you feel bad for having to wake her. She nods and silently pulls her (your) hoodie off and slips her bra off her shoulder. You hand her Eliana and she begins to feed her. You walk back around the bed and climb back in, gently sitting behind Ona and maneuvering her between your legs. You look down over her shoulder and admire Eliana, her soft nursing sounds bringing joy to both of your hearts. You kiss Ona’s ear as she leans back into your chest, your arms wrapping around her and holding Eliana too.

“Thank you, darling.” You whisper into her ear; she looks back and smiles, leaning in to kiss your lips softly. “She is perfect, ¿Sí?” Ona asks, hand coming up to stroke Eliana’s cheek softly.

“She is so, so perfect. Just like her Mama.”

Eliana unlatches with a soft pop; you move out from behind them to take her. She burps but spits up all over you, earning a soft scold and a kiss to her tiny nose. You bounce her in your arms for what seems like hours until eventually she does fall asleep. You lay her back in the crib and pull your shirt off, climbing back into bed where Ona seems to have abandoned her shirt too. She wakes up with a start when she feels your side of the bed dip, turning around and facing you. You smile and pull her into your arms, she smiles softly and kisses your chin.

“I’ve got the day off tomorrow.” You tell her softly, she looks up with a surprised look.

“Since when?”

“Since I asked Jonatan at training yesterday.”

“And just when were you going to tell me?”

“In the morning when you yelled at me for being late.”

She chuckles and playfully punches your chest, giggling into it when you lean in kiss her forehead.

“If you’re up to it, I thought maybe we could have a family day out. Maybe drive up to Vilassar de Mar to see Mum and Dad?”

“I’d love that.”

“Good because I called and told them we were coming. Mum’s cooking your favorite.”

//

“Y/N, we’re going to be late!”

“Babe, it’s a half hour drive. We’re not going to be late!”

“You will be when I leave without you!”

You walk out of the bedroom with Eliana’s diaper bag that you’ve triple checked. She’s fast asleep in her mother’s arms, gripping her shirt oh so cutely. You walk over to Ona and kiss her lips softly, before kissing Eliana too so she didn’t feel left out.

All buckled up in the car, you began the drive to Ona’s hometown. She sat in the back with Eliana, softly singing along to the radio. It was a beautiful sunny day in Barcelona, you wondered if everyone would be inclined to go down to the beach for a bit.

//

"¡Hija, te he extrañado!"

"¡Hola mamá, yo también te he extrañado!"

“Y/N! My darlings, come in, come in!”

Ona’s mother was quick to take Eliana out of your hands as she cooed softly at her. You walked in with Ona, hand on the small of her back. She sat in the living room with a loud sigh, leaning her head back. You stood in front of her, eyes full of concern.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes, it’s just, we can finally rest if mamá watches Eli for the day.”

“I think she would love nothing more, darling.”

You both look over at her mother, smiling when she tries to get Eli to smile. It’s heartwarming, a memory that both of you will treasure. Just as her mother pulls another funny face, Ona’s father and brother walk in, loudly greeting you both. Joan pulls you in for a tight hug, scolding you for not bringing his niece over more. Her father joins his wife, efforts doubling to try and make Eli smile. She’s an easy-going baby, she loves the attention she gets from all the people who love her dearly.

Eli is left with her abuelo as you and Ona go into the kitchen to help bring the food out. The patio had a long table set up, the warm Barcelona sun beating down on your necks. Food in Spain was a love language, you all ate and ate until you couldn’t anymore. Ona dipped inside to feed Eli, coming back twenty minutes later with a happy baby swaddled comfortably against her mothers’ chest.

//

“Can you take her bebé, she’s fussing again.” Ona asks as everyone sits inside to enjoy the A/C. A habit that clearly developed when Eli was in the womb was the fact that she calmed almost immediately when she heard your voice. No one else could calm the fussy baby better than sweet words from you. Her eyes were wide and attentive when she heard you talking, a little inkling of a smile etched on her face.

“Hola, guapa, you’re giving Mama a hard time huh? Mummy’s got you, you’re such a fussy girl today. You’re just feeling gassy aren’t you, you cheeky monkey? Aren’t you?”

Eli giggled and cooed softly, eyes wide like she always had. You lean back into the couch holding her, softly whispering sweet nothings to your daughter. Her eyes start to feel heavy as she falls asleep on your chest. Ona records the whole interaction, excited to send it to the girls immediately after.

Ona moves and sits beside you, smiling down at the two of you. Her heart fills with love, proud of how far the journey of starting a family had taken both of you. There were many failed attempts at getting pregnant at the start; her body not accepting the first few implants. When she got the call in the changing room that day, she was more scared than anything. You both hadn’t gotten this far before and it terrified her. Every day she hoped and prayed that it would work and there would be no complications till that night in the emergency room where she feared the worst. Now, as she sat her in her parents’ house with her child in your arms and you beaming down at her fondly; she knew that it was all worth it.

“I can hear you thinking.”

Your voice pulls her out of her thoughts as she simply leans in and kisses you. Its chaste, the kind of kiss that has relief laced into it.

“Sorry, just thinking about how far we’ve come. As a couple and as parents.”

“I would do it all over again baby, as long as it’s with you.”

“You’re getting soft.”

“For the two of you? I don’t mind it one bit.”

//

The both of you were cuddling on the couch, Eliana on your chest as she took her afternoon nap. Everyone had decided to do the same, everyone in a little corner to themselves to indulge in a food-induced coma. Ona was patting Eliana’s back softly, head tucked into your neck. This was your favorite part of your day, when you came home from training to join your girls on the couch as they were usually napping when you got home. You kissed Ona’s forehead softly, leaving a lingering kiss there before pulling back.

“Mamá has agreed to watch Eli for a few hours.”

“What for?”

“I’m taking you out on a date.”

“I don’t have anything to wear; bebita, I’m in sweatpants!”

“You’ve never looked more beautiful, mi amor. We leave at 5, hm? Let’s take a family nap now.”

//

She did in fact change; she wouldn’t be caught dead on a date in sweats. You tried to convince her that she looks gorgeous even in sweatpants but she just gave you an annoyed look and whisked herself upstairs to rummage in her childhood bedroom for something to change into.

Her parents were more than happy to watch Eli; beaming proudly at her as we left for our date. Ona was being the worried one, telling her parents to call even if she sneezed.

“Babe, she’s in good hands.”

“Yes, but they aren’t my hands and it’s making me nervous.”

“Your parents are wonderful with babies; they raised you and Joan, no?”

“I suppose, we just haven’t left her without us before.”

“We won’t be out too long then, we can get home early and cuddle after, how’s that sound?”

“Okay, I love you.”

“I love you too. C’mon, I wanna spoil my girl.”

You parked the car right up front of the very first restaurant you and Ona went to on a date. It was a little family-owned Spanish place, she had insisted you try it and she took you. Midway through dinner, you asked if this was her way of taking you out on a date. She almost spat out her wine, coughing loudly as she tried to recover from your question. Red as a beet she answered, “Only if you wanted it to be,” to which you replied “I was hoping so.” You had insisted on dessert later on, after sharing a flan you both went back home with smitten smiles on your faces and sweet texts that never stopped. You made it official at training two weeks later, having gone on about 6 dates, by grabbing her face and kissing her in front of everyone when they were teasing.

“There, she’s my girlfriend alright! Happy now?”

“She sure as hell is.”

“Reservation for L/N?”

“Ah, yes! Buenas noches! Right this way.”

“Allow me, my darling.” You say, pulling her chair out as she walks in behind you.

"Gracias, bebé.”

Looking over the menu, the restaurant was still packed for a Wednesday. You were sat in a quiet corner, away from the hustle and the bustle. You start with a house wine, smiling softly when Ona grins widely, excited for your date.

“You remembered.”

“Of course, how could I forget? You took me out on our first date here. Although I didn’t know that I was on a date at the time. Until I asked.”

“I was nervous you would say no so I was okay with us just going to dinner as friends.”

“I’m glad you didn’t ask, darling.”

You order your food and the night goes smoothly. The food was as good as you remember, Ona laughing when you reminisce about her little wine accident the first time you were here. You both felt refreshed by dessert, needing some time to yourselves to recuperate and be the best for Eliana.

In the car, Ona has her hand laced in yours in her lap. Her thumb brushes across your knuckles softly, the lights of Vilassar de Mar beaming across your faces as you drove back to her parents’ house.

“Hola, guapas. Feeling refreshed?” her mother greeted as walked in the front door. Eliana was sleeping in her grandfather’s arms, as his eyes too were feeling heavy.

“Yes, mamá. It was perfect. Was Eli good?”

“She was an angel. Come on, I’ll pack you some leftovers to take home.”

//

Ona and Eli were both fast asleep in the backseat on the drive home. The streets were quiet; not a soul in sight this late. You got home and quietly brought all the gifts Eli got into the house before waking Ona. Her face was squished into the side of Eli’s carrier, finger resting on her small cheek.

“Darling, we’re home.”

“Already? Hm, I really fell asleep.”

“Yes come on, wanna get my girls into bed. We’ve had a long day.”

“I’ll get her, c’mere.”

You pull Eli’s carrier out of the car and help Ona, holding her hand and walking into the house softly. Eli sleeps like the dead, not even making a sound when the door slams a little.

“Sorry, Pequeño. I’ll get her to bed, darling. You go wash up.”

“Are you sure? I can take her.”

“Go, mi vida. I got her.”

When you use Spanish despite being English, Ona’s stomach does backflips. Just hearing you willing to use her native tongue makes her heart swoon. She melts when you use affectionate terms you made the girls teach you, your pronunciation improving over the years of being together. She listens to you, heading towards the bathroom to wash up. She decides on a little bath, hoping that you’ll catch her in here and join her. You do, smiling at the sight of her with her hair up in a messy bun, goddess-like body hidden by lavender-scented bubbles. Your clothes join hers on the floor, turning the lights down and lighting a candle before climbing into the perfectly hot water behind her. She melts into your arms, sighing softly as your hands caress her legs and torso. She’s had a rough couple months since having Eliana. Her once athletic body slowly going back to normal. She knew she’d probably never go back to her previous look but she was relieved that she had someone like you in her corner to remind her of how beautiful she looked despite the stretch marks and other imperfections. You had stood in front of a mirror with her and kissed it all, leaving her blushing and more confident than before. You loved her then and now, every mark a lasting impression and constant reminder of the bundle of joy sleeping in the other room.

“You’re the best.” She says quietly, reaching for your hands to hold around her. She sighs loudly, leaning into your arms again.

“You deserve the best, querida.”

You both sit in the warm water till it goes cold; Ona and you just made out in the bath, the calming scent of lavender from the water and eucalyptus from the candle made it the perfect wind down. Eliana didn’t wake up at all, clearly the day out with her grandparents made her tired. Drying off, you stand there and watch her; eyes filled with fondness for her. She gets self-conscious, shyly wrapping the towel around herself and walking out into the room before you could say anything.

“Hey, don’t run from me!”

By the time you get into the room, she’s got on the biggest hoodie she’s got and is pulling on sweatpants.

“Doll, it’s 30 degrees in here. You’re trying to cook yourself.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not, don’t lie to me. Talk to me, beautiful.”

“I’m not.”

“Huh?”

You step closer to her, having pulled on a pair of shorts and a sports bra yourself. 

“I’m not beautiful. Not right now.”

“What do you mean, cariño? Of course, you’re beautiful.”

“NO! I’M DISGUSTING! YOU’RE JUST SAYING THAT BECAUSE YOU PITY ME!”

She runs back into the bathroom and locks herself in. You stand there shocked, not knowing what you did or said to set her off. You knew she was struggling mentally too and you had tried your best to be there for her and make sure she knew she was loved, clearly you hadn’t been doing enough. Eliana had woken up to the yelling, you walked over and picked her up, cradling her gently.

“Shh, little girl. Mama’s just a little upset, hm? She’ll be okay, she’s just a little overwhelmed. I need you to go back to sleep so I can check on her, deal?” Eliana settles almost immediately, going back to sleep just as you lower her back into the crib. You walk over to the bathroom and knock on the door softly. You can hear Ona crying, it breaks your heart.

“Baby.”

“Please go away.”

“Don’t shut me out, my love.”

“I can’t do this.”

“There’s more to it than you’re telling me, angel. Let me in and let me help you, gorgeous.”

“Why do you love me?”

Her question takes you aback; you just had a wonderful day with family and a perfect date with the most perfect woman (in your humble opinion) and now that same woman is asking you why you love her.

“There are many reasons why I love you, darling. We’d be here for years if you wanted to hear all of them.”

“I’m not who I used to be.”

“I think you mean your body isn’t, my darling. You’re still the same beautiful, funny, gorgeous, smart, masterful fullback that I fell in love with. You’re still the girl who took me on a date that I wasn’t aware of, the girl who beamed for days when I asked you on a date two days later, the girl who gave me the most beautiful daughter in the world. But I also love the broken girl behind this door and I want to be the one to glue you back together darling. I want to find every crack and fix it.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“I don’t deserve you, my sweet. You’re the best, I can only try to be the same for you.”

“It’s open.”

She almost whispers it and you rush in seeing her sitting in the middle. She begins to cry again when you stand there and look her. The tear stains and the wet t-shirt tell you she was really crying hard. You sigh softly and pick her up, carrying her back to bed. You undress her and put her into more appropriate clothes. She stands there and lets you, tears still running down her cheeks. You cup her face and wipe them away, kissing her nose softly.

“I love you. I’m sorry I don’t remind you enough every day. You are so beautiful, so kind, so loving. You’re such a wonderful mother to Eliana, she loves you very much babe.”

“I love you too. Thank you, it means a lot coming from you. I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

You climb into bed with her, holding her close as the only sounds in the room lull you both to sleep; the fan runs softly as the A/C kicks on and off. She pulls herself onto you, face tucked into your neck.

Just as your eyes begin to close she says, “I’ve been having these annoying thoughts for a while. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to worry you. I was wrong, I should have told you. I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.”

“I’ll be all ears, cariño.”

//

The sun poured into the room like a flood. There was just a sliver in the curtains but it lit up the room. Ona was draped over you, your arm around her shoulder as she slept the whole night. Eliana woke up several times but Ona slept through the night. You didn’t mind, she deserved it after the weight on her shoulders was lifted.

“Hola, little one. How about we make Mama some breakfast in bed? She deserves a little more pampering before Mummy has to go to training today, what say you?”

Eliana just smiled, as you pulled her into a swaddle. She bounced happily as you cooked, making tortilla de patatas the best you could. You could cook very well but Ona was better at Spanish food than you were. Ona was already awake when you walked into the room with her plate and a cup of coffee, smiling softly when she saw you both.

“Good morning, my love.”

“Good morning, mis chicas.”

“Here’s breakfast, I’ll bring my plate, give me two seconds.”

You walk back to the kitchen and bring your own plate back to bed. Ona sips on her coffee, sighing when it’s exactly how she liked it. You smile and sit back into bed, leaning against the headboard with Eliana still against your chest. She’s fallen back asleep, drooling all over your chest. You both eat in comfortable silence, sunny Barcelona shining throughout the room.

“This is good, you’ve become better at Spanish food.”

“High praise from the Queen! Means a lot babe, it just never comes out the way it does when you do it.”

“It’s delicious, I love it. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

She takes Eli off you, you bring the dishes to the kitchen and clean up quickly. When you walk back into the room, Ona’s feeding Eli and you snap a quick picture. It melts your heart, seeing both your girls having a good start to their day.

“Do you wanna talk about last night?” you ask her as you walk back towards them. She smiles sadly when you sit back in bed with her. She nods softly, eyes looking up at you with pain she knows only you can tell is there.

“I don’t know what happened. When we had Eli, I was so excited. We had been trying for so long, then we finally got pregnant, and then we had the complication and it’s just been so much. I thought it was just a phase, the doctors did talk about PPD but I didn’t think it would be this way.”

“Well, we know now. We can talk to the Barça doctors, they’ll know what we can do to help you. Help us.”

She simply nods, leaning in for a kiss. You oblige her, cupping her cheek softly and kissing her softly. She physically melts into your touch, smiling wide against your lips.

“How about we all go hang out at the pitch for the day? We don’t have a game till Sunday, I’m sure Jonatan won’t mind. The girls certainly won’t. We can talk to the team psychologists when I’m done.”

She nods, her signature wide smile plastered on her face.

“Now, how about we put the little one down for a nap and we take a nice hot shower together?”

//

“You’re going to get soap in my eyes, Y/N!”

“I won’t if you stood still, Pequeño.”

“Just because I’m 3 inches shorter does not give you license to make fun of me.”

You just kiss the side of her head and smile, going back to scrubbing her scalp. You step out of the shower 20 minutes later, both hair washed and bodies scrubbed clean. Once you’ve dressed and not forgotten your kit bag, the whole family drives over to the training center. You walk in with Eliana in your arms, Ona walking behind you with her carrier and diaper bag. You purposely didn’t tell the girls that the both of them were coming, wanting to surprise them with the special guest for the day.

“Nena!” Alexia exclaims when you both walk in, rushing over and taking her from your arms.

“Hello to you too, Ale. I’m doing well, thanks so much for asking.”

“Sí, whatever. How are you, mi vida? Tia Alexia has missed you so much, yes she has!” Alexia coos as the girls surround her. You and Ona can only smile and shake your heads, snapping a few photos to post later on.

“Alexia has become soft since we had Princesa.”

“Don’t make me force you to run laps, Y/N/N.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Watch me. Your mummy thinks she’s funny doesn’t she, cariño?”

“Turning my own child against me Ale, that’s low, even for you.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, I know I’m her favorite.”

//

Ingrid and Mapi walked in later on and had Eliana in their arms in an instant much to Alexia’s displeasure. Mapi was making silly faces with Ona and got Eliana giggling when Ingrid suddenly pulled herself away and walked over to where you were sitting and getting your boots on.

“How is she, elskling?”

“What?” you say, in the back of your head knowing that she isn’t talking about Eliana.

“How is Ona? Is she okay?”

You look at her like she’s got three heads. Ingrid is known to be the more observant one but you didn’t think she would be able to tell that Ona had a rough day. You certainly missed it.

“How did you know?”

“I had a feeling.”

“And yet I missed it.”

“Hey, it’s all part of life. You can’t get everything right.”

“She’s okay but we’re going to see the psych later.”

“That’s good. How about we have a little dinner tonight? I know Mapi would love to have kjære over.”

“I think that’s what she needs, Ingrid. She needs her family.”

[mysticsublimeperson]

<< part 2 >>

Merlin woke up feeling cranky, he didn't exactly sleep. It resembled more to several disgusting and sweaty naps, and a lot of self deprecating introspection in between.

So Merlin decided to stop trying around 10 am, and moved to the sofa. He didn't have anything to do that day, they weren't waiting for him in the lab, nor in the office, they all thought he would have been too hangover. Funny.

He needed to get out, to get coffee, to try and look for a new perspective, or at least a solution, so he got up and dressed and went to open the door.

A sharp thud sounded when something collide to the ground.

"Arthur?"

"Shit, er... Merlin, sorry, good morning?" Arthur was trying to blink away the heaviness.

"Were you sleeping in my hallway?" Merlin was really confused now. Arthur had always been a bit of a prat, and he grew up rich (and still was very rich, even if he denied it) so he was posh. In all the years he knew him, Arthur had never volunteered himself to discomfort, because he could afford not to.

"Yeah, I.. Well, you told me to go, but then I thought that if I went then I would have to come back in a few hours, and well it was really early in the morning, and I didn't bring my car, so I would have to call for a car and then, well come back, and wold spend like a proper half hour just pacing around my flat, just so far away from you... guessed you also wouldn't be answering your phone, so waiting here seemed like the better option. But now that I say it out loud, it sounds kinda stalk-ish" He said sheepishly, his voice was still deep, and slow. Trying to recover from sleep. He stood up, but was supporting in the door frame. "It's just... you seemed really upset. I know I was the reason, but" he gulped "you are always for me when I'm like that..." Merlin sighed.

"Come in" Merlin talked with a controlled voice. He would have wished for a little more time to figure this out, but if he was honest maybe more time would have only made him more paranoid.

"I, er, yeah, thank you" It was extremely strange to hear Arthur so insecure, but Merlin needed to focus on his situation, and not fall into old habits. "How.. How did it go? Yesterday I mean, sorry I didn't ask sooner"

Bad, he wanted to say.

You ruined it, he wanted to shout.

I missed you, he wanted to cry.

"Fine, I guess" he didn't want to offer information, he sat in the sofa again.

Arthur gulped again and put on a tight smile. "I see" sitting beside him.

"And you? How was your dinner?" Merlin suddenly felt tired again, he didn't want to shout, or yell, he didn't want to incriminate or fight, he just wanted this situation to be over. "Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

Arthur opened and closed his mouth several

"Merlin. I am so sorry" he said after a while. Without looking at him. "I know there's no excuse... and the way I treated you when you arrived here too... you didn't deserved that" his voices sounded tight.

If this had been any other day, Merlin would have folded, he would have told him that it was forgotten. Any other day, Merlin would have bitten the bullet of disappointment, and would have try to understand his point of view, his situation. Any other day...

"Arthur" he said after a long silence "I think it's time for us to rethink about what we want from this relationship" he could see the moment all the muscles in Arthur's body tensed up.

"What do you mean?" He sounded so scared, and Merlin fought the urge to hold him.

"What I mean Arthur it's that, this relationship can't go on like this forever" Merlin breathed slowly, trying to express himself as accurately as posible "I feel like im living on borrowed time with you, and even if you are the one in the wrong, I feel like I should just be grateful to have you a little longer, no matter how you much you may hurt me"

"That's not true Merlin, please, I would never intentionally hurt you. how can you think that? I love you" he finally looked Merlin in the eye. They were red and swollen, and a bit desperate.

"I know you love me Arthur, I believe you" he tried to swallow the knot in his throat "but sometimes that's just not enough" Merlin sat back at the sofa, looking at the ceiling. The same ceiling he had been looking since he arrived yesterday, thinking the same things, over and over. "I know you love me, and I love you, more than anything. But I also know that you would never invite me to a company dinner, you would never even acknowledge me in front of your coworkers, you would purposely hide me from your dad..."

"Merlin" Arthur said his name like a warning.

"Im not trying to be resentful Arthur" Merlin spat "they're just facts. Like the fact that you hate your job, and it makes you miserable. But you would never leave. Even if it's a shit job, at a horrible and inmoral company" he kept his tone neutral, he wanted to make a point "I would never ask you to leave, because a would never want to put you in a position where you would need to choose"

"Merlin" now his name sounded like a prayer, and a question.

"I think I always knew that I really never had a chance if you had to choose" suddenly his voice quivered.

"That's not..."

"Arthur please!" he really didn't want to hear empty promises, so he made a gesture for him to wait "I told you that yesterday was important, you knew that. And you choose him" he will not cry, no more "You ditched me, last minute. You left me alone even though I told you I Wanted you with me" his words bouncing on the walls.

"I didn't think..." Arthur was trembling a bit. And he looked like his world had been rocked and put upside-down.

"Arthur, you already have a life planed out. And you are the one that's choosing to keep it that way, you are going with the plan. And one day I will have to see how the papers and magazines cover the stories of you ascending to CEO of the world's most evil construction company, and marrying a young nice pretty girl, who is really boring and bratty but also insanely rich and has good connections, and have three beautiful very normal and healthy kids... all while I keep fighting with my little NGO to change the status quo that you reinforce. Don't you see that you don't have space for me in your future?" all the resolve to keep his cool abandoned him mid speech but at least he got it out. Arthur was looking at him like he had just told him that he only had a minute to live.

"I don't see a future without you Merlin" Arthur said, really softly, eyes shining with soon to be shed tears.

It hurt Merlin to hurt Arthur.

He never wanted to hurt Arthur.

Merlin brought up his legs and hugged his knees, hiding his face momentarily biting his lips hard, while blinking away the tears. "I love you Arthur, and I don't think I could leave you alone if I wanted to. But I think this relationship... it puts unfair expectations, for both of us" Merlin swallowed "It's not fair for me to expect something you are not ready, nor willing to give" he argued as calmly as he could. "I suppose we work better as friends"

He could see Arthur wanted to fight.

He also could see that Arthur had seen his point.

"What if...?" Arthur started, shaky. "What if I leave?" Merlin's brows furrowed confused. "My father, I mean. What If I leave him? What If I leave Pendragon Constructions? Everything... what if i..." he was starting to stammer and was not making sense. So Merlin took his hands.

"Why would you do that?" I was the genuine confusion in his expression that made Arthur sob.

"Because I love you Merlin!" he practically screamed with broken voice and desperate eyes. "please" begged silently.

"I think that if you do that. You'll resent me, eventually" he tried to reason while giving a reassuring squeeze to his hold "He is your father Arthur, you love him, and you want to make him proud, I understand that" even when he knew what it meant for himself "But you also are better than he could ever be" he assured "You won't ever lose me, I'll just need some space"

"I don't think I can do that" Arthur spoke carefully while caressing his hand "I don't know how to, I don't want to" he breathed trying to calm himself. "But I will try for you if you want me to" he swallowed "But don't misunderstand. I am not giving up on us. I won't" using his hold he pulled Merlin in for a hug. "I am sorry, I am sorry I disappointed you, I am sorry you felt like that, but above all I am sorry that you are right" he hugged him strongly and Merlin tried and failed nor to melt in his arms. "But this won't be the end Merlin, you are right for now. I will work, everyday, every moment to deserve you, to make you feel loved, to prove to you and to myself that I can become the man that you think I can be, and when that day arrives, Merlin I will sweep you off your feet" he talked those words like it was a threat, directly in his ear, while holding him close, so Merlin decided that just one last time, he would believe in him.

He would keep hoping.

[matan4il]

Daily update post:

Another five Israeli soldiers have been confirmed as killed during the fighting in Gaza. May their memory be a blessing.

Rocket fire into Israel continues, and we're once again seeing direct hits to Israeli homes. Thankfully, today no one was physically injured.

A recent survey, conducted after the Hamas massacre, shows about 70% of Israeli Arabs identify with Israel. Another poll shows about half believe the Israeli reaction in Gaza is justified. One more interesting finding is that the massacre has actually increased the importance of their identity as Israelis.

I mentioned in my post yesterday Asaf Hamami, who was killed on Oct 7 protecting kibbutz Nirim, and whose body is held hostage by Hamas. That Saturday morning, his 6 years old son Alon was visiting him at his army base. When the breach of the border fence started, Asaf kissed his son goodbye, and went out to protect the kibbutz. He didn't know at that point that the base would be attacked by Hamas terrorists, too. That his son would be under siege for many hours, and would eventually be evacuated, and the soldiers who would get little Alon out, would have to tell him not to look at the burnt cars and bodies spread out all across the road. Asaf didn't know it, but he was specifically targeted by Hamas terrorists, many of them were caught with his picture on them. Asaf was supposed to finish his service soon, his dream was to become a school principal. He's one of three Israeli colonels killed on Oct 7.

Yesterday, Israel presented at the UN some of the worst testimonies regarding the rape and sexual abuse of civilian men and women on Oct 7. The spokesman of the US state department also said officially what I mentioned to you many were whispering here, that Hamas broke the hostage deal, and refused to release the last of the women it's holding hostage, because it doesn't want the world to know what it has done to them.

France has frozen the assets of Yahya Sinwar, the commander of Hamas in Gaza, for half a year. I'm glad this step was taken, but I'm also wondering why only half an year. Will Sinwar stop being the mastermind behind the Oct 7 massacre in 6 months?

Most of the time, I don't get into the whole issue of fake stuff posted by Palestinians, because even if here a picture is AI generated, and there a vid is staged, it's obvious there are Palestinians killed in Gaza, and while some are terrorists, or directly aided Hamas, others don't deserve their fate. Still, when you come across stuff that is over the top fake, it has to be commented on, because it's a reminder that yeah, while some fake stuff is people unintentionally passing on misinformation (which can happen to everyone during a war), there are those who intentionally fake images, in order to emotionally trigger the world, and through such rage, force a narrative that only recognizes the Palestinians as victims (since Israel doesn't release the pictures of brutalized bodies to preserve the dignity of our dead), and erase the guilt of Hamas in victimizing civilians on both sides, by constantly diverting attention away from how Hamas started this war with the worst massacre and abuse of Jews since the Holocaust.

So here's just one fake vid coming out of Gaza, the woman in the first scene is clearly kissing, crying over and "mourning" a doll.

This is 27 years old Ofir Tzarfaty.

In fact, he turned 27 on Oct 7. He went to the music festival with his friends to celebrate his bday. He was murdered by Hamas, and his body was kidnapped to Gaza. The IDF managed to use the fighting to locate and retrieve the corpse, his family, friends and girlfriend got to have a funeral, and say goodbye.

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