#day 10: shatter

[wowbright]

Chapter 14: Shatter

Figureskating!Blaine/designer!Kurt Olympics AU for december klaine fanworks challenge. Also on AO3.

Kurt missed Blaine. He missed his smile and his voice and the way he bashfully batted his eyelashes and his smell—oh, he smelled wonderful, like fresh air and ice and perfectly ripe raspberries with a dash of cloves and sandalwood, everything melding together into a distinctive blend that Kurt just wanted to bask in. Kurt could just be going along innocently minding his own business, and suddenly he would get a sweet whiff of something that reminded him of Blaine, blindsiding him, and he was left there, pining and desperate to touch Blaine, or at least to feel his presence.

Like just now, as Kurt guided a seam through the sewing machine, and a bit of Blaine’s scent wafted up from the fabric he had donned and doffed a dozen times now, each time imbuing the fibers with a little bit more of his heat and himself. It struck Kurt right in the center of the brain where the on-off switch for longing was located.

Kurt's mind flooded with images: Outside at the Garden of the Gods, Blaine’s body outlined against the pink rock, his eyes dancing, those nonsensical and beautiful words bubbling out of his mouth (You make me feel like I'm new) and everything inside Kurt that had ever yearned to be close to another person, and even parts of him that had never yearned for it, seemed to well up within him like a wave tumbling toward the shore. In the tea room, everything disappearing but Blaine’s face and his smile and his warmth—a warmth so strong it radiated out across the table and the silverware and the bergamot-scented air and nestled right around Kurt’s heart. And those eyes, once again, earlier this morning in the studio, watching with rapt attention as Kurt worked, as if there was something beautiful and exquisite in the way that Kurt thought and the way his hands moved.

This morning. It hadn't even been a full four hours since Kurt had seen Blaine, and he ached for him. They hadn't been able to have lunch together, that was all. Everyone was getting ready to leave for Sochi, and on top of that there were interviews and prerecorded television spots and photo shoots to contend with. If Kurt thought this was bad, it was going to be much worse in Sochi. But at least in Sochi he would have a dizzying array of landmarks and languages and street signs he was completely incapable of deciphering to busy his mind.

The door swung open. Kurt did not have to look up to know it was not Blaine. Blaine approached doors more cautiously, and he did not stomp his feet when entering a room. “Another package for you,” said the familiar voice,  world-weary and cantankerous. “What's with all these packages? You didn’t have enough fabric in that trousseau of yours? I needed two strong men to carry that in when you first got here. Gay Blaine is strong, but he can’t skate in all that.”

“Hello Becky.” Kurt looked up at Sue’s assistant. “You seemed to enjoy watching those two strong men carry in my ‘trousseau’ very much. So I don't see what you’re complaining about.”

“They were okay. My boyfriend’s hotter.” Becky threw a large envelope onto the table next to his sewing machine.

“Hey, careful! You never know what's in those envelopes. What if it was a package of custom-made glass sequins?”

“They would shatter,” Becky said drolly. “Duh.”

“Exactly. And it's not like I would have time to order new ones at this point.”

Becky huffed. “But it’s not sequins. It's fabric. See?” She grabbed the package, wriggling and scrunching it to demonstrate its malleability. “Also, one side of the envelope is clear. I can see what's in it.”

Kurt snatched the package away from her. He hadn't noticed that. “Well, it's the principle.” He opened the envelope and out slid three sheer yards of perfection. He didn’t realize he was audibly cooing until Becky asked him if he had eaten a pigeon for breakfast.

~~~

The rink was chaos. Cameras and reporters and complicated sound and lighting rigs were joined by sundry aides and assistants and managers and publicists zipping about, chattering, and making lots of racket. Stepping in from the outer corridor, Kurt felt like a mole who had been forced out of his underground burrow. The lights, the clashing colors, the noise—everything was so loud and blindingly busy.

He scanned the arena, hoping to find Blaine’s reassuring presence in all this mess. That's why he was here, after all. Becky’s package was potentially the final puzzle piece in Blaine’s free skate costume, and Kurt wanted to get Blaine’s thoughts on it before he started ripping apart the most recent iteration of the ever-evolving ensemble in order to incorporate the new fabric this into the back and arms. Well, technically, he was supposed to get Sebastian’s thoughts, too, and Sue always had an opinion, and if Mike and Kitty or the McCarthy twins were nearby, they would certainly wander over with their thoughts—

Kurt closed his eyes and took a deep breath. If he couldn't shut out the noise, at least he could make the room go dark and give himself a few seconds to adapt and gain his bearings.

“See, here's what's gonna go down, Mr. Ben Israel. Two choices: you stay here and I crack one of your nuts, right or left—that's your choice—or you walk away and live to be a douchebag another day.”

Kurt blinked his eyes open and turned toward the voice. Not even ten yards to his left, the McCarthy twins were sitting across from a bushy-haired reporter. He, in turn, was staring fearfully at a skinny, stiletto-heeled woman in a white Hugo Boss business suit who loomed over all of them.

“It’s a fair question!” the reporter squealed. “I was just giving them the opportunity to respond to the very real cultural phenomenon of McCarthy twincest fanfic and its implications for—”

“Out.” Santana Lopez said it calmly, quietly, pointing toward the door that Kurt had just walked in. It was the most terrifying he had ever seen her.

Kurt did a quick two-step to the side as the panicked reporter bolted past him. “Well hello, Satan!” he exclaimed cheerfully as he regained his footing. He would have said ‘hail Satan’ if he hadn’t been in such shock.

Santana's jaw dropped. “Lady Hummel! What the hell are you doing here?”

“I could ask the same of you.” Though as he said it, he recalled her drunkenly going on about ‘putting clients on ice’ more than once. He’d always assumed it was her way of wishing she could dispose of them like a mafia boss disposes anyone who inconveniences him, or at least shoving them in cryostorage with a note not to revive them until long after she was gone.

“You know Berry’s not my only star, right? If I had to spend 24-7 at her beck and call, one of us would end up dead, and it wouldn’t be me.” Santana eyed him suspiciously. “She didn't send you here after me, did she? Because she can’t stand me being away from her side for more than two minutes?”

“I’m not her errand boy,” Kurt said. “Besides, I haven’t talked to her in weeks.”

“How will you keep your spot as Rachel Berry's gay bestie with that attitude?”

“Oh, I resigned from that position long ago after all my workers comp claims for trauma on the job went unfulfilled. I'm here on my own. Working. Like you.”

Santana's eyes lit up. He could never trust that expression. It meant mischief more often than joy. “Come to think of it,” she said, her eyes wandering around the rink, “I do remember something about you being Blaine Anderson's sloppy seconds.”

“Oh no, Kurt’s not sloppy at all!” Mason popped up from his seat, bouncing on his toes and clasping his hands together in the tell-tale pose of someone wanting to dish. “Blaine adores him, and with good reason. Kurt is an amazing designer. I know you’ve been in talks with Johnny Weir to design our costumes next season, but we’ve been having second thoughts about that.”

“We have!” Madison jumped up beside her brother, her feet actually leaving the floor. “Kurt’s way more original.”

“What the hell, Hummel? Have you been blowing pixie dust up my clients’ asses when I wasn't around?”

“I know nothing about this pixie dust of which you speak,” Kurt answered smugly. “They simply recognize talent when they see it.

Santana huffed. “Next thing I know, they're going to tell me they want to defect to Sebastian Smythe like Chang and Wilde did.”

The twins wrinkled their noses in unison. “No, we need you,” said Madison, turning to her brother to continue the sentiment.

“The way you deal with all those creepy reporters, Santana. You’re perfect,” said Mason. “I mean, I'm sure Sebastian would do his best to defend us, but let’s face it—he’s aggressive, but you’re terrifying.”

 “And we’re neither, which is why you complement us so well,” added Madison.

Her brother looked at her. “You’re a little terrifying, Madison.”

“Only to you.”

~~~

When Kurt finally found Blaine, he was sitting next to Sebastian and talking to a reporter in a Sochi 2014 baseball cap. Blaine had his public face on—cheerful, but not in the unreserved way Kurt had become familiar with since his arrival in Colorado Springs. Sebastian, on the other hand, was scowling.

Kurt understood why as he got closer and caught the gist of what the reporter was asking. “As the first and only male figure skater to come out as gay during his career, how do you feel about the current Russian government’s new restrictions on public discussion of homosexuality and the environment that might create for you at the Sochi Olympics?”

“I—” was all Blaine got out before Sebastian reached across and pushed the microphone out of his face.

“You know you can’t ask him that, Cooper.”

Holy shit. Were they talking to Anderson Cooper? Kurt stepped a little closer to peer at the reporter's face. No. The reporter was a devastatingly handsome middle-aged man, but he was not Anderson Cooper.

“Rule 50 says ‘no kind of demonstration or political, religious or racial propaganda is permitted in any Olympic sites or venues,” Not-Anderson-Cooper said. “He’s not in Sochi yet.”

“We’re at the Olympic Training Center, you dumbass.”

“‘Olympic sites or venues’ means those operated by the International Olympic Committee. This is run by the US organization.”

“Which also discourages athletes from engaging in political speech while acting as Olympians. Seriously, Cooper, how many concussions have you had?”

Blaine's eyes moved back and forth between his manager and Not-Anderson-Cooper like he was watching a ping-pong match. The annoyance on his face melted away and was replaced by a no-holds-barred smile when he saw Kurt. He looked like someone who had just walked into Museum of Modern Art and seen Van Gogh’s Starry Night for the first time. Kurt’s heart flipped over in his chest.

Blaine jumped up from his chair and waved Kurt over. “Guys, the interview is done. Cooper, I want to introduce you to Kurt, the designer I've been telling you about. Kurt, this is my brother, Cooper Anderson.”

“Oh! I’ve heard so much about you!” Cooper reached out and shook Kurt's hand vigorously. “But not as much as you’ve certainly heard about me. Would you like an autograph? Or maybe a selfie with me?”

“I, um …” Kurt looked to Blaine in hopes of receiving a clue to what was going on, but Blaine was too busy shaking his head at his … brother … to notice Kurt’s need of rescue. “I'm sorry. Are you a … um, were you a competitive figure skater, too?”

“You're joking, right?” Cooper said, but his grin was fading. “Blaine said you were funny. That’s not funny.”

“Actually, it kind of is,” Blaine said with a quiet chuckle. He stepped closer to Kurt and put his hand on his shoulder, leaning close to whisper, “He was a seven-time MVP in the National Hockey League, and now he’s a sports commentator”—and it took all of Kurt’s concentration to focus on the meaning of the words and not the warm breath that puffed tantalizingly against his ear.

“Oh. That Cooper Anderson,” Kurt said, not because any of it rang a bell for him, but because it seemed wise not to get off on the wrong foot with the first member of Blaine’s family he'd had the chance to meet. “Sorry. I didn't recognize you. Maybe it was the hat?”

~~~

“You really didn't know about my brother, did you?” Blaine said later when they were standing alone—well, as alone as they could be in that chaos—at the edge of the rink, checking out how the fabric looked under its lights while cocky young Sam Evans showed off his tricks for the cameras as Santana watched on, frowning. (She was apparently his manager, too.)

“Well, I remember you mentioning that you started to learn skating because your family was really into hockey, and I think there was a mention of a brother in there somewhere? But I didn't make the connection because … well, I didn’t know there were any famous Andersons who played in the NHL. The whole ‘let's injure each other for an hour and call it a game’ genre of athletics has never really been my thing.”

“So, what is your thing?” Blaine said, scooching a bit closer so that their shoulders touched.

You, Kurt wanted to say. Instead, he said, “Athletics wise? I was a kicker on my high school football team.”

Blaine's eyebrows shot up. “Isn't that one of those ‘injure each other for an hour’ sports?”

“I guess, but I was literally just the kicker, and I didn't even watch the games. They recruited me out of drama club after the quarterback saw my audition for the fall musical. Apparently my high kicks were more impressive than anything any of the actual football players could do. So I’d sit on the sidelines doing my homework, and if they needed me, I’d come out there with earphones on under my helmet and “Rose’s Turn” on my Walkman, and when Barbra Streisand sang, ‘Everything’s coming up Rose!’, I’d wind up and kick the ball right over the post.”

Blaine’s face squinched up from smiling so hard. “That is the most adorable thing I have ever heard. You never cease to amaze me, Kurt.”

“I was a cheerleader, too,” Kurt said with more pride than was probably warranted, considering he was talking to a world-class athlete with the skills to make a much better cheerleader than he ever had. But Blaine was looking at him like he was the most amazing human who had ever walked the earth. He couldn't help preening a little.

Blaine brushed the back of his fingers against Kurt’s bicep. “With those arms, you could probably toss girls in the air like they were confetti.”

Kurt’s heart sped up. Blaine was touching his arm. In admiration. As if it were … sexy, or something. And sure, Kurt had shown up to the studio twice this week in extremely fitted, extremely short sleeves that showed his arms at their best in hopes of Blaine appreciating them. But somehow, he hadn't anticipated it might actually work.

Bang! They both jumped back as something slammed into the side of the rink just beneath them.

“Sam? Sam!” Blaine bolted over the wall onto the ice.

“I’m okay. I’m okay!” Kurt heard Sam protesting as Santana forcibly pushed camera operators away and threatened their tender body parts with violence if any of this aired.

“If Yuzuru Hanyu hears a word of this, I will Yakuza your asses!”

Blaine began to go through a list of questions he had clearly asked and been asked before about whether this spot hurt or this spot or this spot, and did Sam know where he was and the date and the time and the President and the canonical order of the Star Wars movies (okay, that last one did not sound standard, but Sam answered it without hesitation), meanwhile pressing the pads of his fingers to Sam’s knees and ankles to test for tenderness.

“Ugh, you’re not my mom,” Sam whined.

“Yeah, but I’m your grandpa. Close enough. And if you think this is too much attention, I’ve got worse news for you. The paramedics have arrived.”

Sam turned out to be okay in the end, with only his pride wounded—especially when he found out Blaine hadn't even seen the back flip that preceded the crash. “There's a reason they don't score those in competition, Sam,” Blaine said gently. “It's to prevent people from killing themselves.”

“I can't believe you didn't see it! You were supposed to watch and learn!”

Kurt thought Blaine showed remarkable restraint in not asking, Learn what? How to crash into the wall? Perhaps it didn't even occur to him, Blaine was that good of a person. Instead, he patted Sam's back and said, “I'm sure it was impressive. But maybe save those for the off-season. You can't afford an injury right now. We’re all depending on you to be in top form for the team event.”

Sam looked doubtfully at Blaine. “Figured you’d want me out of the team event.”

“No. We need the best. And you’re the best.”

“Better than you, gramps?”

Blaine smiled. “Guess we’ll find out in Sochi.”

“Oh, God, what is this?” Santana's voice interrupted the comfortable silence. “Why don't you two just go sit around a fire and sing kumbaya? Wait, no. There's no time! We've got too much shit to do before we leave for Sochi! Also, Sam, if you ever try a stunt like that again before a competition, you can find a new manager.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She turned toward Kurt and thrust a business card at him. “For you, Lady Hummel. Have your people call my people when this whole Sochi mess is done. Maybe we can work something out.”

“Or we could just talk it over at our gal’s next drunken brunch.”

“No, she’ll think I’m stealing her best gay—yeah, I know you reject the title—and I’ll never hear the end of it. Later, okay? Trouty Mouth and I gotta go.”

Sam stood up to leave with her. “Wait, Sam,” Blaine put a hand on Sam’s sleeve. “Did she just call you—”

“Yes,” Sam huffed.

“You don't sound okay with that.”

Sam shrugged.

Blaine stood up. “Santana, he’s a teenager. And he’s paying you. It’s not okay to talk to him like that.”

She threw her hands up in the air. “I have nicknames for everyone. And he's got to toughen up if he's going to survive a career as a senior.”

“Sam’s plenty tough. He’s made it this far, hasn’t he? I’m sure you have the capacity to come up with a nickname that doesn't sound like an insult and the ability to ask Sam first if he’s okay with it.”

Sam looked at Blaine with wide eyes. Clearly he hadn't expected this kind of defense or these kinds of accolades from the guy he spent his free time finding ways to annoy. But it didn’t surprise Kurt. It was completely consistent with Blaine’s character: generous, kind, noble, sympathetic. Blaine was such a good person, through and through. The affection Kurt felt crowded around his heart and made it deliciously hard to breathe.

Santana rolled her eyes. “Fine. Your choices are Blue Eyes, Kentucky Derby, White Chocolate, and Blonde Chameleon.”

“Blonde Chameleon, definitely!” Sam grinned.

“Okay, done with that. Let’s move. Good day, Lady Hummel. And Mr. Lady Hummel.” She nodded at Blaine as she turned away. A hint of pink flushed across Blaine’s cheekbones. He looked inordinately pleased.

~~~

“So,” Blaine said a few minutes later when they were back in the costume studio—just the two of them and Roxy Music playing in the background, Blaine swaying his hips to the beat as he ran his fingers over a piece of velveteen. There wasn’t even a pretense of them working on the costume together. They were past that stage in the design. Kurt’s work was solitary now, except for the fittings and the occasional consulting on a swatch. “I take it you and Santana Lopez go back a bit?”

“Sure. She manages one of my friends from high school. A singer named Rachel Berry.”

Blaine practically guffawed. “Wait. You’re friends with Rachel Berry?” And then his eyes went wider. “She’s the one who’s declared you her best gay?”

“Well, I did let her be the hag to my fag when we were younger. But I got tired of being called her ‘gay friend’ and her ‘best gay friend’ and basically a supporting character in the production of her life and … Well, I set some boundaries. We’re still friends, but more … with some healthy distance. Anyway—you’ve heard of her?”

“Oh, have I ever.”

Kurt tilted his head. There was some undercurrent in Blaine’s voice he couldn’t quite decode. “You’ve seen her in Funny Girl maybe?”

“Not Funny Girl. Though it was nice to see she got the Tony for it.” This seemed an honest statement, even if Blaine pressed his lips together in a way that almost looked like a grimace.

“The Hello Dolly revival then? Or maybe Spring Awakening?”

Blaine leaned forward against the table and shook his head, chortling. “Spring-Fucking-Awakening. You could call it that.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”

“Sorry. It’s her boyfriend. Partner. You know her partner, right? Jesse St. James?”

“Of course I know Jesse.”

“Well, so do I.”

A lightbulb went off in Kurt’s head. Jesse used to live in L.A. Blaine lived in L.A.—well, at least when he wasn’t zipping around the globe for competitions. And Kurt had always known that Jesse was bisexual, or heteroflexible, or … something. But what were the chances of this? L.A. was enormous. “Wait. Are you one of the guys that Jesse …?”

“Dated? Yeah. Before he figured out he was straight. Or … I’m actually kind of the precipitating factor in him realizing he was straight.”

“Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize—”

Blaine winced. “Crap! Did I just out him to you?”

“No. I mean, yes. I mean … I didn't know he was straight per se, but I guess I figured he might be—what’re the kids calling it these days?—heteroromantic? But you know him. He’s an open book. We’ve just never discussed it. I’m not sure I’ve ever told him I’m gay. But I was more concerned about you. Because I brought up Rachel and then I dredged up all this stuff from your past and … Oh my God, that must have been so traumatic.”

“Honestly, I think it was more traumatic for him than it was for me.”

“How is that possible?”

“Well, I wasn’t in love with him, so that helped. Infatuated, a little, yes, but I wasn’t in love with him.”

“No. I mean, how can he date you and not fall in love with you? It doesn’t compute.”

Blaine looked down at his hands, the blush from earlier returning to cheekbones, and shrugged. “It's fine. He wasn't the right guy for me. And I always knew there was something kind of off. We just never really had a spark. And I thought maybe that was kind of normal because honestly, I’m not sure I’ve had a spark with any of the guys I've been with—I mean, where you have sex and it’s like ‘oh my god I’m so in love with this person,’ and it’s overwhelming and wonderful and all the things you imagined it would be when you were younger and—Well. I'd started to wonder if I was just bad at romance. But with Jesse, at least I knew the problem wasn’t me. He was just constitutionally incapable of feeling that way about me. It was kind of a relief. And also … maybe this is weird, but it also kind of felt like an honor, in a way—to have someone be so open and vulnerable with you about who they are, and for them to let you accompany them as they come into their own. Maybe it's not normal to see things like that. I mean, Sebastian definitely thought I should be more bitter and angry about the whole thing. But for me, it was like a gift. I think it might be the best break up I’ve ever had. We couldn’t be lovers in a true sense. But being able to just be there as he embraced who he was—that’s another kind of love.  I don't think I'll ever forget how precious that felt to me.”

Blaine was sitting down now, his chair turned toward Kurt’s, their knees touching. His expression was open and unreserved and brimming with generosity, and he was so, so beautiful.

“Blaine,” Kurt said, swallowing hard to keep his heart from rising up into his throat. He put his hand on the back of Blaine’s and, just like that, Blaine’s palm turned to meet his. Their fingers intertwined.  “You’re not bad at romance.”

“I'm not so sure. I'm sitting across from this gorgeous, intelligent, artistic, kind, breathtaking guy who makes me feel more alive than I’ve felt in … maybe ever … and instead of telling him all the ways he’s already become so special to me even though it really shouldn't be possible because we’ve technically known each other for less than two weeks but also somehow it feels like I've known him for lifetimes—or that I want to know him for the rest of this lifetime, at least … Instead of telling him all that, I'm sitting here and telling him about my breakup with a straight guy.”

“Oh, Blaine. You really are the opposite of bad at romance.”

Kurt held both of Blaine’s hands, and he watched Blaine’s face, and Blaine’s eyes flickering to his lips, and he felt himself falling, falling, falling in the most delicious way possible.

Kurt had never been so scared to kiss anyone. He had never felt so sure of it, either. He leaned toward Blaine, heard Blaine’s breath hitch, saw his eyelids flutter slowly.

Blaine leaned toward him.

The door swung open. “There you are, my handsome young half-Filipino mustacheless Tom Selleck. Have you forgotten we have a meeting to go over the logistics for the teams event?”

Blaine blinked. “Um, yeah. Actually, I did. Sorry, Sue.” He touched Kurt’s knee as he stood up. “I'm sorry, Kurt. I'll connect with you later, okay?”

The door closed behind then. Kurt didn't know whether to scream in frustration or giggle like a schoolboy. He picked up the piece of velveteen that Blaine had been petting earlier and buried his face in its soft nap. “Oh, Blaine Anderson. You are so very much not bad at romance.”

[miracle-negative]

I'll do my best tomorrow (lazy)

Dreamtale belongs to @/jokublog

Shattered dream belongs to @/galacii

[klaineadvent]

art by @mynonah

[delusionalblfan]

as i expected throughout the whole episode i was so tense and with teary eyes. the whole damn episode. but i literally bawled my eyes out in three moments. the three of them made me stop watching to catch a breath and to just think about life and choices and stuff. i was so into them i felt sick to my stomach

1. when Babe kissed Babe's forehead three times, it got to me more than the whole scene of Babe realising Charlie was dead. it was so tender, full of regret of untold words, it was what Babe regretted not doing to Charlie before the race. it was a goodbye. it was a 'i cannot live without you'. a 'i respect and love you so much for everything you've done for me', a 'i do not deserve you', a 'you do not deserve this'. i felt it all. it was a detail that made all the difference to me and of which i am very thankful for. it was what my emotions needed to really make me go 'no! this is happening' and make me crumble

2. Babe alone at home with Charlie's gloves while reminiscing their times together. he remembered their first meeting as expected. but then he remembered moments that Charlie made him feel special, told him he is special, irrevocably and unconditionally told him he is the reason he ever tried to stop Tony. Babe knows that what Charlie has been doing is not for his own self, but for Babe. this moment Babe is feeling so much pain and so much guilt and it's palpable. and it's as if he feels like the gloves are the only good thing he gave to Charlie and he wants to hold on to them. he needs a physical thing to hold on to, given he doesn't have Charlie. he wants to keep the thing he gave to Charlie and thinks he likes the most. he wants to keep what he saw in Charlie's eyes was what he was most proud of. (Babe, news to you: you are it. you are what Charlie most wanted, most loved and most wanted to show off. you are what makes Charlie happy. you)

3. Alan and Dean's scene (PHENOMENAL) what a moment. seeing Sailub and Lee's emotions so raw that they are physically feeling it. that's the feeling i got. the hurting in their voices made me go crazy. i lost myself there. and i got the whole moment. Dean always felt like the outsider, haven't found his place and used that to self-pity, never spoke about it until recently and only now is doing something to not live in the shadows, but unfortunately by doing wrong decisions. they are family (remembering these men have no blood relatives, they are each others family and that's as valid as blood relatives. it's Family) i am sure they would support him if he decided to find his place somewhere on the racing world. but he was so desperate he decided to do it by siding with the person that has done most harm to his family members, and by harming a family member (i know nothing about mechanics, but he said it, he did want to scare Charlie so he would give up racing, so Dean was willing to make Charlie get into an accident to scare him). and Alan was so hurt. and i bet i know some traits of him so he must be thinking 'this is happening again within my family, the family i started, the people i sworn to protect, i must not be monitoring their feelings well, where did i do wrong, i definitely did something wrong'. but at the same time he knew Dean did a very bad thing, the was so hurt with Dean and so disappointed. and to make the (right!) choice of calling the police on a family member must be so hard. they will not be family like before. the trust was broken. and realising that this is the end, the way they physically gave up and bended. Alan grabbing him like he wants to embrace him still! i believe they get each other's point of view, but Dean was already so hurt by all these years (this boy has a fucking inner saboteur!) and false accusations but shattered by the fact that Alan could in fact, but to his eyes only now, show love towards him and Alan was so hurt that a family member hurt another family member (again) and still very regretful for what he could have done… this is unequivocally a breakup and it was very real and hurtful to watch

[cellgatinbo]

ok i’m going to bed but. after everything that happened today i’m still sad we didnt get cellbit showing charlie around the ritual rooms and the castle

[the-professional-cocomeloner]

Day 10: Execution (of sorts)/Begging for Mercy

content warnings: - character being stripped of their identity so basically dying. so that's execution right ?

(link to Ao3 version here)

@augusnippets

--

“Wh-what?”

WELL.

It comes from the direction of what is no longer (and perhaps never had been; perhaps it had always been a facade, perhaps he’d never even existed in the first place—) Father Bernard, but it is nothing resembling sound, not even speech so much as being, a physical sensation rippling not just the air but all of reality around and into itself, tightening Cecil’s throat as though it were telephone cord. There is blinding light—light Cecil could feel despite not seeing—pouring from every one of the “Father”’s orifices, Its human exterior melting into something no human could witness and come out sane—or alive. 

YOU’VE BEEN CAUSING US SOME TROUBLE, “CECIL IGLESIAS.”

Cecil stares up with sightless eyes, every other sensation fading into obscurity around them; the smell of dusty prayer books in their nose, the taste of sweet-terror-blood dry in their mouth, Mark saying something somewhere behind them (and Mark can’t hear It, she realizes. He’s talking to me alone.), even the ground beneath them—it’s all gone. There is only the tiny insignificant speck of Cecil Iglesias and above and below and around and within and speaking unto that speck, there is God. 

Cecil shrinks back, or feels a mental twinge that’s probably them physically shrinking back, trying to escape the inescapable gaze of their Creator. She tries to say something, anything, but can only release a pathetic sort of off-hook tone, a continuous beep of despair and desperation and—

⍒ Cecil? ⍋ 

Cecil jumps—nearly out of his own skin, in the most literal sense of the phrase—and everything rushes back, the church and the pews and the dust and the fear—her fear—and Mark and the floor holding them up and God, too, because It would not go away so easily. 

◜ MMark. ◞ Cecil can’t pry his eyes away from God, despite lacking the sight that would warrant their staring up at Him. Behind her, she senses Mark taking a step forward, claws and fangs unsheathing, as though even a Dominion could do anything to the God that created it. 

NOW, OUR EVANGELIST, WATCH CLOSELY.

Something prickles at the back of Cecil’s neck. 

WE JUST WISH TO SHOW YOU THE TRUTH. THIS VIRTUE IS NO MORE CECIL IGLESIAS THAN ANY OTHER ANGEL. 

It isn’t the familiar control of their Evangelist; not the cold, ice-glass-teeth sensation running down their spine that she had grown used to, that she’d trained herself to sink into and allowed to twist the blind servant into deadly layers of hungry shadow—this is startlingly warm, almost comfortable at first, then the fuzziness quickly gives way to molten-hot burning that drips down his spine, sinking into the spaces between their bones, seizing them for Their own—wait—wait—

“W-wait,” and now Cecil finally finds the self-control to whirl around on the altar (when had she come up to it?), eyes wide, too late, with God’s sovereignty spreading through their limbs in a steady drip of mind-searing numbness, “no, I’m not—I-I don’t—” they grasp blindly at the air, stumbling, panic seizing up their remaining muscles, because darkness is already beginning to unravel their form into flowing, abstract shapes, “—wait, PLEASE— ◜ MARK!” ◞ Their final lifeline. If anyone could—somehow—if— ◜ “MARK, H—” ◞ 

The burning pitch-black reaches their face, leaking out of the Virtue’s purely nonfunctional pupils and spilling over like an overflowing cup, swallowing up the entirety of the angel’s human facade and scorching out the flicker of humanity it had been clinging so feebly to. 

Just before its legs completely lose definition, the angel falls forward onto its knees before its Evangelist; and then even the silhouette Cecil Iglesias is consumed, and finally, finally, they are truly, wholly, irrevocably dead.

[nordic-language-love]

No Zero Days 4/365 (04.01.23)

Japanese

1x 30 minute italki lesson. Here’s some new vocabulary:

緊張する（きんちょう）- to be nervous

〜に着く（つく）- to arrive at

約（やく）- around (used with numbers)

一夜（いちや）- one night

面倒を見る（めんどうをみる）- to look after, to take care of

なる - to become

願う（ねがう）- to wish

マジで - seriously (informal/slang, can be used as a question)

Norwegian

Read an article. New words:

fleirfaldig (bm: flerfoldig) - multiple

ringeakta (å ringeakte) - looked down on

uovervinneleg (bm: uovervinnelig) - invincible

i røynda - in truth, in reality

glørne (en/ei glo) - the embers

å menge seg med - to get involved with, to mix with (often derogatory)

niste (en/ei) - food one takes when going out hiking, to work etc

snarrådigheit (bm: en/ei snarrådighet) - resourcefulness

til dømes - for example (more common in nynorsk)

opphavleg - original (nynorsk)

I may update days 5, 6 and 7 together because time’s gonna get super fucky for me tomorrow after 7pm (I have a 14-hour flight and will arrive an hour before I took off the following day) and by the time I get to the hotel on Friday evening I’ll probably be too exhausted and jetlagged for my brain to function. But maybe I’ll update for day 5 while I’m waiting around at the airport. We’ll see.

[roaringheat]

Got up at 10 for work and scrambled to get ready with no coffee or breakfast and my ride was late I feel like a husk of a human being

[thedailyvio]

Day 200

Art for UnknownSpy

[mosspapi]

I miss being able to go on the fucking swings

[tytolito]

fahed and reem are the parents to five children. the prolonged attack on gaza and subsequent destruction of everything they've known has forced them to fundraise, but the oldest, sahar (@fahedshehab9), has been making videos to help spread the word. the thought of a young girl advocating for her family's survival in front of the world is as heartbreaking 10 months into cruel bombardment as it was on october 7, october 6, 2023, 2014, 2008, and every single day since 1948 when palestine was first shattered.

this is the current progress of their fundraiser. sahar has done a wonderful job spreading the word so far, but as of posting, they still need €18,634 to meet their goal.

please help her and her family by sharing, reposting with the link, and donating what you're able!

EDIT (AUG 29): due to circumstances explained below, the goal has been increased to include her aunt and her family. please continue to donate and share!

CURRENT PROGRESS (09/01):

€46,307 / €85,000 -- €38,693 left to go!

[famousblueraincoatmp3]

its 10 am and im listening to various postions. i havent even tried enjoying my day

[huda123sblog]

Hello

My name is Hoda, I am twenty years old and my husband's name is Sobhi, he is twenty-four years old. We live with my husband's family, which consists of fourteen people. Our lives have turned for the worse since October 7, 2023. Since that day😭, the occupation forced us to leave our home and we were displaced from 8 to 10 times. Then we went to the security line in the south of the Gaza Strip🇵🇸 because of the fire belts, missiles and shells. We went without shelter. After that, torn tents were provided to protect my family🙋‍♀️🙋. The news came to surprise us that our home was bombed. Here, our dreams and hopes were shattered.

Now, we are suffering from the lack of flour for my family due to the exorbitant prices of food🥬🫑. This has caused malnutrition for my family, as well as the lack of water. When water is available, it is unclean and unfit for drinking. This has caused the spread of epidemics and viruses that caused the spread of skin rashes in my family. Animal food, such as fodder and barley, was mixed to provide food for my family, which caused stomach pain and diarrhea.

I beg you In achieving my dream of having children, I got married at the age of fifteen and now it has been five years since my marriage and I have not had children, so please help me collect money to plant children. 😭🙏😢

Otherwise, I did not complete my studies due to lack of money and lack of a place to study, and I hope that you will help me achieve my goals🙏🙏.

We suffer in lighting fires that are used to heat water, cook food and provide warmth. The price of firewood has risen insanely, so we use pipes and plastic instead of firewood, which has led to a crisis in the respiratory system. Winter may be coming and my family and I will not have clothes, blankets, shoes and useful tents. I do not know what I will do to protect my family from the bitter cold. Thank you. ❤️

I was hoping to beg you to help me and my family survive the danger of war.🙏😔🔗

@xxx-sparkydemon-xxx @lampthehealthminister @baandar @doug-dimmadumb @astronotesstuff @prokyon @the-bitch-isback @aceofrage @intheindustrynow-blog @horrorcore2002 @thescavenger29 @yvening @springcres @meowmaids @akaratna @ezras-turtleneck-blog @fagarlic @grandpom @omens-augury @pianta @kingtransgender @friendlizard @intricatecakes @marbirds @error-core-animations @block-swing-perry @br-eddrolls @kraigerzz-blog @daily-click-reminders @commissions4aid-international @anneemay @tumkaafiho @balaclava-trismegistus @ripley-stark @mangocheesecakes @bees-fantasies @girl4pay @turtletoria @rikebe @esperantoauthor @starless-gaze @frehscah

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #314 )✅️

[5sospenguinqueen]

Bedtime Stories | Daniel Ricciardo x Author! Reader

Summary: For the past six years, you've been dreaming of a future with Daniel. Until one silly little interview shatters every illusion.

Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Baby fever. End of a relationship. Daniel bashing.

Female reader with various faceclaims. Takes place in the 2022 season.

Main Masterlist

next.

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User 2 no, it's not an announcement. her best friend is currently pregnant and she was gushing about looking forward to aunty duties

User 3 omg her and daniel would make the cutest babies though

→ User 4 i bet she can't wait until they have their own mini-me

User 5 imagine our rom-com queen going from writing the cutest but filthiest fiction imaginable to writing about why you should eat your carrots

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22•05•22

User 6 i can't believe this man was talking about being in the height of his career when he's been nothing but a flop since leaving red bull

User 7 the way he's been stringing this poor woman along for 6 years, knowing how badly she wants children, to then decide in a random interview that he's never going to have kids because they would be a 'distraction'

User 8 fans spotted y/n running from the pits once she saw that daniel was safely done with racing

User 9 i fear we may be witnessing the downfall of something we once held sacred

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16•06•22

fallontonight just posted

liked by YourUserName, kellypiquet and others

fallontonight did you know @ YourUser Name was once chased by a kangaroo? find out how in tonight's episode of The Tonight Show 📚🦘

4,477 comments

YourUserName thanks for having me! ✨

User 11 excuse me, ma’am, reassess what

User 12 daniel has been absent from her last 3 posts

→ User 1 not even in the likes or comments

→ User 2 and he didn't even congratulate her on the recent book launch

→ User 3 ya’ll are reaching. he's busy racing. she's busy doing book promo. they still follow each other

User 4 anyone notice she didn't look as happy as she usually does

→ User 5 yes! and i swear she got teary when talking about her life plans 🥺

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YourUserName just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, mclaren and others

YourUserName my happy place 🌊🐚🦀 Aug '22

4,990 comments

User 6 does this mean a new book is coming soon

→ User 7 girl, we’ve just had one. let the woman rest

→ YourUserName sorry, my lovelies but i don’t think i'm in the right headspace to being right a romance novel at this time

→ User 6 confirmation??!?!

→ User 7 we’re children of divorce

→ User 8 honestly fuck those two because i couldn’t have cared less about vroom vroom boys until mother started dating one and now i'm crying in class ‘cause they’re over

landonorris get that bread, queen 🍞

→ YourUserName who let you out of daycare

→ User 9 not y/n and lando interacting like she didn’t break his teammates heart

→ User 10 more like his teammate broke y/n’s heart. let's not make daniel out to be the victim here

kellypiquet p said get writing those children’s books so she can brag about aunty y/n to her friends

→ YourUserName my sweet girl. i saw the cutest dress the other day for her so I’ll pop round soon x

→ User 11 i love their friendship

→ User 12 get this woman a child. She’s too sweet to be stuck in cool aunt mode forever

User 13 anyone notice she didn't do her annual birthday post for daniel?

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04•09•22

User 14 no because the interviewer was so real for that. checo has a few children and he��s currently 2nd best. max is nowhere to be seen on the grid he's that far ahead and he makes sure p is his priority when she’s there so???

→ User 15 and the way he stormed out. i bet PR are sooo happy with him

User 16 nah because mclaren recently announced that they’re not extending his contract so he currently doesn't have his seat and doesn't have his y/n, all because he thought he was better than that

YourUserName posted a new story

danielricciardo posted a new story

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danielricciardo just posted

liked by landonorris, estebanocon and others

danielricciardo yesterday was something. p17 wasn't the result we were expecting, and the media were a challenge but it's always a delight to be in Suzuka. Moving on to the Americas

5,509 comments

User 1 maybe if y/n was there, you wouldn't have done so badly

User 2 maybe if he had a baby waiting in the paddock he would’ve had more incentive to do better

mclaren we’ll get them next time 💪

User 3 letting mclaren and lando down

→ User 4 the real reason he and y/n broke up is because he has no wins. she should move onto lando or something

→ User 5 he’s way too young for her

→ User 4 they'd make a good looking couple tho

(comments have been disabled for this post)

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19•10•22

YourUserName just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, bloomsburypublishing and others

YourUserName thirty, flirty and thriving. please enjoy a small snippet of my 30th birthday, organised by my favourite girl. these are the nice moments before she plies me full of cocktails and i become the sloppiest person in monaco tagged: kellypiquet

kellypiquet any chance to celebrate you 🤍🤍

→ kellypiquet and an even better chance to drink the entire bar and force max to carry us home

→ maxverstappen1 i'm just glad i was able to pull you both out of the sea before you drowned

landonorris can't believe you tried (and failed) to stop us from gatecrashing

→ YourUserName it was an exclusive event, we don't let randos in

→ landonorris i know you're joking but it still hurts my feelings

maxverstappen1 happy birthday, sloppy. you don't look a day over 40

→ YourUserName i'm gonna let that slide but only because i love the bag that kelly told you to buy

User 7 happy birthday to the best author

User 8 happy birthday queen

carlossainz55 happy birthday, y/n 💐

liked by YourUserName

danielricciardo happy birthday x

User 5 kelly and y/n look like the funnest people to hang out with

→ User 6 literally need to know how to become part of their duo

lewishamilton happy birthday, y/n. have a lovely night 💕

liked by YourUserName

mclaren happy birthday to papaya's favourite author (we're still waiting for a racing rom-com that is quite clearly about your favourite f1 team and their super sexy admin) 🥳🥳

liked by YourUserName

Request are open!

Baby Fever Angst Series

[girlgenius1111]

learning curve

alexia putellas x reader [& r's nephew] r gets custody of her 5 year old nephew when her brother gets into trouble. alexia insists on sticking around even though r gives her an out. it's a new and entirely stressful situation for r, but alexia makes it a bit easier. fluff, angst, etc. this is a kidfic.

—

How was it possible? That the most ordinary of days could be just one phone call away from shattering life as you knew it. 

You should have known, really. Should have seen it coming. You were happy for the first time in a while. Happy in your career, in your relationship. Of course something would come along to change everything. 

It was a pleasant day off, the day you got the call. A slow morning where Alexia woke up way before you, but didn’t get up. Instead, she let you sleep in her arms, completely content to just… be there with you. You’d made breakfast together, Alexia’s voice raspy from lack of use, pressing kisses to your shoulders, your face, your neck, as if she couldn’t help it. It was purely and entirely happy. 

Your phone rang just after breakfast. It was an unknown number and you never answered unknown numbers but something about the call made your stomach drop. You clicked the answer button and gave Alexia an apologetic smile, walking out of the room. 

“Hello?” You greeted, tapping your foot impatiently when no one said anything right away. Alexia had put on her favorite show, and as much as you pretended to despise the soap, you were hooked. 

The robotic, pre-recorded message that began startled you.

“This call is from a person currently incarcerated in prison. All calls are logged and recorded and may be listened to by a member of prison staff. If you do not wish to accept this call, please hang up now.” 

It wasn’t shocking, not really. You’d gotten calls like this before, but not for a few years. He used to call a lot, when he first started getting into trouble, asking for money for a lawyer. At the time, you hadn’t had any to give him. Eventually those specific calls stopped. You still heard from him, but not through a call being recorded by a prison. 

He hadn’t been arrested in 5 years. And now… the stakes were much higher. 

“Hello?” The deep voice of your brother came over the line, sounding utterly defeated. 

“Leo.” You sighed. “What happened?” 

“I fucked up. I… Will wanted to start football. But I couldn’t… I couldn’t pay for boots for him. I just wanted to get him something nice.” Leo choked out. You could hear the emotion in his voice, and ignored the pang in your chest as you pictured the little boy just two years older than you, lip trembling as he promised he’d take care of everything. 

“Leo, why didn’t you call me? And ask for help?” 

“I didn’t want to bother you. You’re busy and I should be able to provide for my son. I shouldn’t have to ask my little sister for help, I should have it figured out.” 

“So… this is better? Getting arrested for petty theft and then calling me for help?” You asked sarcastically, though you understood him more than you’d admit. The need to be independent, completely self sufficient. The sinking feeling you’d get when you had to ask for help with something… you still felt that, too.

Your brother was quiet for a moment. Long enough that dread started to build up inside of you again. 

“It’s not petty theft.” He said finally. “It’s grand theft. And accessory to assault. The guy I was working with went a bit rogue.” 

“Jesus.” You sighed. “How long?” 

Another long silence. 

“How long, Leo?”

“10-15 years.” 

You could practically see the tears falling from his eyes in your head, and you knew just by his tone he wasn’t calling for money. Not this time. You could see Alexia out of the corner of your eye, hovering in the doorway uncertainly. 

“I… I signed the papers, to give you custody of Will. To make it easier to take him back to Spain with you. He’d be yours, and I know it’s a lot to ask, and if I had any other option, I would, but the only other option is putting him in the system, and I don’t want that for him. I don’t. I’m so sorry to ask this of you, really I–”

“It’s okay.” You breathed. “It’s alright. Of course, I’ll take him. Of course I will.”

Alexia moved closer, resting a hand on your shoulder once she noticed the tears in your eyes. You let her anchor you, suddenly very sure that this was it with her. Today had been the last nice day you’d have with her, and you hadn’t even known it. 

 But there wasn’t a question of whether you’d do it or not. 

“Are you sure? With your career and–”

“I can make it work.” You said. “I’ll make it work.” 

“Okay.” Leo replied, sounding overwhelmingly relieved. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I wish I–” 

“I’ll be there as soon as I can to get him.” You cut in, unwilling to hear another apology. It wouldn’t fix anything.

 Leo gave you the name of the woman to call, before saying goodbye and hanging up. Even after the call ended, you remained frozen, thinking through all the details, all the things you needed to do, unsure where to start. 

“Amor?” 

Right. That’s where you had to start. 

You turned to Alexia, your face completely impassive. It was the face you made when the team lost and you were upset, or when you got hurt and didn’t want to cry. It was you running from vulnerability, and it had been a long time since Alexia had seen you make it towards her. She’d thought you were past this. 

“My brother was arrested. I’m getting custody of his son. Will. He’s 5. I’m going to bring him back to Spain with me.” You spoke robotically, eyes fixed on a point on the wall just beyond Alexia’s shoulder. 

“Oh… oh wow.” Alexia breathed, nodding her head slowly as she took the information in. 

“It’s a good thing I didn’t get rid of my old apartment. I’ll move my stuff when I get back, you don’t need to worry about any of it. I’ll move back in there and–”

“Why would you do that?” Alexia interrupted, her face twisted with confusion. You looked at her for a moment, her brown roots growing out and the oversized t-shirt she had on. It was soft, your favorite for her to wear because you loved the way the fabric felt on your skin when she held you. 

God this was hard.  

“I… I won’t do this to you, Ale. I won’t. You don’t need this, but I have to–”

“No. Stop. We are not breaking up, and you are not moving out.” 

You turned away from her when you saw the tears in her eyes, clenching your fists tightly and taking a few slow deep breaths. She was making this so hard, but you should have known she would. 

“Alexia,” you began, your voice abruptly cutting off when the midfielder gently grabbed you by the shoulders and turned back towards her. 

“No. No.” She repeated, shaking her head over and over. “Do you love me?” 

You exhaled sharply, desperately wanting to wipe the tear off her cheek. To cradle her face in your hands, and kiss her frown away. You should lie, that would be the best choice. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. 

“I do, Ale. I love you so much. That’s why–”

“Then that’s it. You love me and I love you and people who love each other do not break up.” Alexia said firmly, her lip trembling even as she bit it to make it stop. 

“Alexia, please. It’s okay. You don’t have to do this with me, I could never ask you to.” 

“You are not asking. I am telling you. I am not going anywhere, and neither are you. You bring Will here and we’ll figure it out together. Together, amor.” 

She moved closer, her hands cradling your cheeks, wiping your tears away just as you’d wanted to do with hers. Somehow, she was convincing you. Like she always did. Whenever it felt too unbelievable that she loved you, whenever you became absolutely convinced that you’d tricked her or something, and tried to leave for her. She always convinced you to stay, because she knew you never really wanted to leave her. 

“It’s gonna be a lot.” You murmured, your hands finding their way to her waist, your body giving in before your brain did. “It’s gonna be really hard, especially with work.” 

“We can do it. Together.” Alexia promised, leaning forward to dust a kiss across the tip of your nose. “I love you. I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to do it together, okay? Don’t push me out. Please.” 

“Okay.” You allowed, finally giving in and leaning into her. She wrapped her arms around your body, squeezing so tight it almost hurt. 

“Promise me? No pushing me away.” She whispered into your ear. 

“I promise.” You breathed the words back, knowing, somehow, that you wouldn’t break this promise. Never before had you gone back on something you’d promised Alexia, and you didn’t intend to start now. 

—

The plane ride had been long, and though you were already exhausted, you hadn’t slept a wink. You were wide awake when the plane took off, and wide awake when it landed hours later. Some sleep would have really done you some good, but there was nothing to do about that now. 

It was really an amalgamation of all of your least favorite things. The social services office was just as bad as you remembered it. Just as… lonely, regardless of how incredibly crowded it was. It was overly beige, from the walls down to the outfit the woman sitting across from you was wearing. Susan. Even her name sounded beige. Then, there was the paperwork. An endless pile of it on the desk in front of you. Your hand was starting to cramp from signing, and all you wanted was to see Will. Physically see him, make sure he was okay. He was somewhere in this building, surrounded by strangers. It was impossible not to picture him, all small and scared in an office, wondering if you were really coming for him. 

You remembered that feeling. No one had ever come for you and Leo. 

But you were here for Will. You were here for him, and it didn’t matter too much that he barely knew you; at least, that's what you told yourself. 

You were his aunt that lived far away in Spain, that sent at least three presents for his birthday every year, and three more for Christmas. You talked to him on the phone every so often, and Leo liked to send a picture of Will wearing your kit every few months. He liked dinosaurs and crafts, and he adored your brother. Will’s mom had never been in the picture; you’d never met her, never even gotten Leo to tell you her name. It was just the two of them, and you knew it was hard. You didn’t know it was this hard for your brother, though. You’d have stepped in much sooner if you’d known. 

Signing the last piece of paper, you inhaled deeply and slid it back across the desk towards Susan. 

“Okay! That’s everything in order. It would be a lot more complicated if your brother hadn’t signed over his rights. Great foresight of him, to have the paperwork all ready!”

Yeah. Great foresight. Leo clearly possessed that. 

“I’ll go get Will! Like I said before, he’s been having a tough time, but the minute he arrived here he asked for you, telling us he was supposed to make sure that his Aunt came for him if anything ever happened to his Dad. I think he’ll settle once he finally sees you.” 

Susan smiled kindly, stepping away from the desk and briskly walking down the hall. 

The words settled something in you that worried Will wouldn’t want to go with you, while at the same time, making you so incredibly frustrated. Leo could make sure to prepare Will for this exact situation to occur, yet he couldn’t avoid committing felonies? 

Before you could think too hard about what to say or do, there he was. Walking slowly down the hall next to Susan, a blue dinosaur clutched tightly to his chest. His brown hair fell messily around his head, in a way that reminded you of your brother. He was small, wearing a sweatshirt and shorts and a pair of velcro shoes. Small and scared, his face creased with anxiety and fear, even as he approached you. 

“Here she is!” Susan said encouragingly, gently nudging Will closer when he came to a stop just in front of you. He was gazing up at you with wide, unsure eyes, and you could see tear tracks on his cheeks, his eyes red and puffy. He was so small. 

It was instinctual, something you didn’t even know you possessed that had you kneeling down and opening your arms. Will’s forehead un-creased just slightly, and he rushed forward, wrapping his arms tight around your neck. 

“Hey, buddy. Everything’s okay now. I’ve got you.” You whispered, holding tightly to the little boy that was clinging onto you as if you were the last stable thing in the world. And you supposed you were; in his world at least. 

Will exhaled shakily. For the first time in two whole days, he felt just a tiny bit safe. He didn’t know you well, granted, but his Daddy had always told him that if there was an emergency, to make sure to call you. He’d taught Will how to click your contact and call. Will hadn’t been sure you’d come. You lived far away, and he barely ever saw you. The two of you were strangers practically. But Leo had always told Will that you’d come for him if he needed you. And Leo had never broken a promise to Will before… Well not until the other day, he’d waited in the office at school for a whole hour after the bell rang. When someone came for him, it wasn’t his Dad. It was a police officer with a mustache and a mean face, and all Will could do was cry, and make sure that the police officer knew he had to call you. And though the details Will had been given were few, he knew his Dad had been bad and he was in trouble. Big trouble. The police officer had sounded all angry and stern when he’d told Will this, softening only slightly when Will asked when he’d get to see his Dad again.

The police officer hadn’t answered, instead telling Will that he was being taken to the social services office, where he’d wait to figure out what the next steps were. 

Will had waited for you, and even though the nice lady had told him you were coming, it took a while. More than one day, but he couldn’t quite remember. It felt like forever. 

But now you were here, and you’d given him a hug that felt like the hugs his Dad gave him, and he didn’t feel like he had to try to be brave anymore. Your arms didn’t loosen around him even as you stood up, and Will let himself relax. Just for a moment. 

—

“We going to Spain?” Will wondered, gripping two of your fingers when you held out your hand towards him. He trotted along next to you as you headed from the social services building down the block to your hotel. 

“Yeah. Barcelona.” You affirmed. Luckily, Will had been able to talk to Leo on the phone, and Leo told him what the plan was. 

“Bar-sa-lonuh? Or Spain?” 

“Barcelona is a city in Spain.” You clarified. “We’ll go there on a plane tomorrow morning.” 

“Is it a big plane?” 

“It’s a pretty big plane. Have you ever been on a plane before?” 

Will shook his head, brown curls blowing backwards slightly in the wind.

“It’ll be fun. We’ll get snacks and… pick out a few movies to watch. And you can sleep if you want to.” 

“Snacks and movies?” Will repeated. 

“Yes! Does that sound fun?” You tried to sound excited even though there wasn’t really anything you were dreading more than the long flight with a five year old. 

Will just shrugged, his hand tightening around your fingers. You shifted the strap of his big duffel bag so it was further up on your shoulder, stopping just outside the hotel and bending down so you were eye level with him. 

“I know it’s a lot of change, Will. And I know you don’t know me very well but–” 

“My Daddy said you’re nice. And that you’ll take good care of me.” Will whispered, tearing up as he remembered the phone call he’d gotten to have with his father this morning. Leo had called you right after, himself trying to hold it together as he explained he told Will that you were coming for him. 

“I’m going to do my very best to take good care of you. We’re gonna figure it out together, alright?” 

Will nodded slowly, taking a deep breath and rubbing at his eye with his fist. “Alright.” 

You figured that was the best you’d get, for now. 

—

“Tia?” Will whispered. You turned, finding him all tucked into one of the double beds, the covers pulled up to his chin. He was so small, the dinosaur pajamas he’d pulled out of his duffel bag a bit too big on him. ‘Dad said I’d grow into them if I ate my vegetables’, Will had said. Your brother was many things, and a good father was one of them. He was giving you a huge responsibility and huge shoes to fill. 

Refocusing on Will and not how much he looked like your brother, you smiled, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“What’s up, buddy?” You asked, hesitating for a moment before reaching and out brushing one of his curls away from his face. His whole body relaxed at the motion, and he looked a bit more confident as he opened his mouth to speak again. 

“Do we have to go to Spain? We… we can’t stay here?” 

Your heart twisted in your chest. You thought of your brother's words on the phone the past few days. He’d repeated it a few times, as if knowing the doubt you’d carry. 

You can’t leave Spain. You have a career and a life there. Will speaks a bit of Spanish, and he’ll adjust. He needs to be with you, and you need to be where you’re going to be happy. That will be the best thing for him.

Leo spoke with a wisdom in his voice that used to infuriate you, but you’d decided to trust the big brother voice, this time. Because he was Will’s dad, and he knew what Will needed. 

“We have to go to Spain.” You confirmed. Will frowned, an unhappy look on his face that tore at your emotions. “I know, it’s going to be an adjustment. But your Dad told me to take you there, and he always knows best, right?” 

Will looked conflicted. “I like it here.”

“I know, I know you do.” You paused, thinking once again back to your brother's advice. 

Talk to him like he’s a person, not a baby. He’s a smart kid, he’ll understand. 

“I play football in Spain. It’s my job there, so that’s where we have to be for now. But you’ll like it, I promise. It’s warm and sunny and it has really good food. Alexia is there, and I know you’ll love her, and she’s so excited to meet you in person.” 

Thankfully, Will had met Alexia over facetime before, and knew that you were together. You didn’t have to introduce the idea to him, as he’d somehow already seemed to know it wouldn’t just be the two of you when you arrived in Spain. 

Will looked doubtful, and you could see the anxiety clearly written across his face. His features were so like Leo’s, and it was the same face your brother always had when he was nervous about something. The same face you had when you were nervous about something. 

“Why don’t you ask me questions about Spain? And I’ll answer them, and then you’ll know more before we get there.” 

Will was a talker, that much you knew. And so the questions began, about the food in Spain, about school in Spain, about the team you played for, and whether there were dinosaur toys there. Question after question, until you laid down on the bed next to him, eyes barely open. 

“Do you live in a house in Spain?” Will asked, his energy still in full force as he asked what felt like the 500th question of the evening. 

“An apartment, but you’ll have your own room.” 

“And Alexia lives there?” 

You nodded groggily. 

“Does she speak Spanish?” 

“She does, but she also speaks English.” 

Will hummed. “My Dad was teaching me some Spanish for when we met Alexia. He said your tia taught you both Spanish and that's why I call you tia because that’s Spanish for aunt.” 

At this, you cracked a smile, forcing your eyes open as you nodded. “That’s true. We lived with our tia for a while and she taught us Spanish.” 

“Is it hard to learn? I’m not very good.” Will wondered, his questions seemingly endless. 

“Mmm, not hard. You’ll pick it up quickly, especially at school and with Alexia helping you with it.” 

“Is she nice?” 

“She’s very nice.” You promised, eyes flying open when you realized you had a text from Alexia you hadn’t yet read or responded to. Will yawned hugely as you pulled your phone out of your sweatshirt pocket, and you smiled down at him again. 

“Go to sleep, buddy. I can answer more questions tomorrow.” 

With a small grunt of agreement and another yawn, he rolled over. Right into you, his head resting against your arm. It was indescribable, the soft feeling that filled your heart. Soft adoration, even as you stilled the left side of your body completely so as not to disturb him. 

You didn’t know much about kids, but it seemed you knew enough. For now. 

Finally, you opened Alexia’s text, tears pooling in your eyes as you read her words. 

Amor! I hope everything is going well. You’re doing great already, I am sure of it. I stopped at the store and got a few things for Will. You said he likes dinosaurs, sí?I love you, I’ll see you tomorrow. I can’t wait to hug you. 

God, you couldn’t wait to see her. It wasn’t very odd for the two of you to spend a night apart, but something about this felt different. You missed her deeply, fully, needed her to hold you and promise everything was going to be okay. The anxiety of how this whole new life would work was almost overshadowed by your excitement to see her again. 

Almost. 

—

Will was a pretty well behaved kid, you’d learned. Very sleepy when he woke up in the morning, but he snapped right out of it when you asked him what he wanted to download to watch on the plane. He very eagerly selected three disney movies, and you realized with a pang to your chest that all three were movies you and your brother had grown up on. 

All three were Leo’s favorites, if you remembered right. 

And now they were Will’s. 

Not being the biggest fan of crowds, the airport clearly made your nephew nervous. He fidgeted his little hands together, walking so close to you that he ran into you every time you stopped. His hand would dart out to grab onto the hem of your t-shirt whenever anyone got too close to him, and he almost cried when the security agent made him walk through the metal detector by himself. 

You figured this made sense, that after his whole world had been turned upside down, of course he’d attached himself onto the most stable thing he could find. That happened to be you. It was just… odd. Something you weren’t used to. The checklist you’d made on your phone helped, reminding you to ask Will if he had to go to the bathroom, if he was hungry or thirsty, if he had any more questions about the plane. It was more than terrifying, honestly, that you were suddenly fully responsible for this small boy. 

There was stress, of course. But there was also something so… incredibly different in the way Will pressed his face to the glass of the plane window, staring wide eyed as the plane took off. For every moment you worried you were messing up, even in the first 24 hours, there were 10 moments where Will rested his head against your shoulder or reached for your hand, or offered you one of his animal crackers with a smile that had you convinced that for your nephew, maybe you could do this. 

—

“I can walk, Tia.” Will mumbled, squirming slightly in your arms. 

You chuckled, rubbing his back softly. “It’s okay, buddy, it’s crowded and I know that makes you nervous.”  

You’d picked him up a moment ago, after noticing how terrified he looked at the massive crowds making their way through the airport. It was a struggle to wrangle both of your bags in one hand, while holding Will in the other, but you didn’t want him to be uncomfortable. You took two steps towards the exit before you had to stop and readjust, wishing you had another pair of hands here to help. 

Alexia had texted that she was there, and though you’d assumed that meant she was outside in her car, your eyes met hers across the bustling baggage claim before you had to take another step. 

Your whole body practically sagged with relief, your bags falling to the ground where you stood as Alexia made her way over to you both, a concerned and sympathetic smile on her face. 

“Mi amor,” she greeted, softly kissing your temple and pulling you into as much of a hug as she could manage with Will still in your arms. 

“Hi.” You choked out, almost in tears at the sight of her. Here, in front of you, at the perfect time. With a smile on her face, already reaching for your bags. 

“Hi, Will.” She said gently. 

Will peaked out from where his face had become hidden in your neck, relaxing a bit when he saw the semi familiar face. 

“Hi.” He whispered back, turning his face back in towards you and shutting his eyes. 

“He’s tired.” You explained, but Alexia just waved you off, beginning to lead you from the airport to the parking garage. It was much easier now that you only had to worry about carrying Will, who was quickly becoming dead weight in your arms as he drifted off. 

“Of course he is, it has been a long few days. I bet you’re exhausted too. We can go home and go right to sleep, sí? We can worry about anything else tomorrow.” 

You nodded your agreement, not even wanting to contemplate the state of your to do list at the moment, though it was getting harder and harder to ignore. 

As you arrived at the car, you shouldn’t have been surprised by the car seat perfectly installed in the back of Alexia’s car. You’d mentioned needing one to her, but for some reason… you half expected her to forget. Or get the wrong one. You weren’t sure why, but it was just something that you thought you’d have to do. 

Yet when you opened the door to the back seat, it was all done for you. The perfect size for Will, buckled in correctly and everything. You carefully deposited him in the seat and buckled him in, before turning to Alexia, once again with tears in your eyes. 

“Thank you for getting that.” You mumbled, shutting the car door as quietly as you could. 

“Of course.” Alexia said easily, her lips curving into a smile as she opened her arms for you. You practically collapsed into them, gripping tight to your girlfriend as she did the same to you. 

“I missed you so much.” You cried. 

“I missed you too, mi amor. You have no idea.” Alexia whispered back, her hand threading through your hair as she just held you for a moment. Eventually she leaned down to press her lips to yours. You kissed her back, taking in the feel of her hands as they cupped your jaw, her fading blonde hair tickling the side of your face. 

When you pulled back from the kiss, she was still gazing at you so lovingly it made your heart burst. 

“Let’s get you both home.” She suggested, and you nodded your agreement, needing nothing more than to be home in that moment. 

—

The relief you felt when you finally stepped back into your apartment wasn’t complete relief. Because you were home, but everything was different. There was a whole other person that had to fit into your life now, and you didn’t even know where to begin carving out a space for him. There was figuring out a school that could accommodate a five year old that spoke very little Spanish. Then there was finding childcare for when training didn’t perfectly align with school, or when the team was traveling. Would you bring Will with for away games? 

The issues you needed to address were seemingly endless, but most urgently was that the extra bedroom was not fit for a child. It had a double bed, which would work for now, but didn’t leave much room for anything else. What did a kid even need in his bedroom? 

Toys, of course. 

Books. 

A desk? 

A dresser? Or would the closet be enough? 

God he would need more clothes. 

And food that he'd like to eat. 

And shampoo and conditioner for kids. Those were different from adult hair products, right? 

That was most urgent, you decided. Making your home a home for him. 

“We should go shopping tomorrow.” You murmured, shifting Will in your arms a bit as you headed for the guest bedroom. He’d fallen asleep in the car and it was night, so it made sense for him to keep sleeping. 

What time did kids his age go to bed? 7? 8? You had no idea. Another question to answer. 

With a gentle hand on your back guiding you down the hall, Alexia hummed in agreement, but you missed the small smile on her face. “I bought a few things.” She reminded you. 

Your assumption was that a few things were a pair of pajamas, a new toy. A book, maybe? But when Alexia stepped around you to push the bedroom door open, your jaw dropped. 

A few things, apparently, was an entirely redecorated room. A beautifully redecorated room. The walls were no longer white; instead they were painted a soft green. A wooden twin bed sat in the corner, a green canopy hanging the tall headboard and footboard. The bed was covered in a green comforter, a soft throw blanket, and 4 different pillows. A long shelf sat just under the large window, filled with toys and books. There was a separate toy box next to the bookshelf, overflowing with even more toys; cars and books and dolls and stuffed animals. Everything. Wall decor, a rug, a dresser, a cozy chair in the corner next to a lamp. 

Alexia had thought of everything. And if you’d had any doubts about her dedication to this, to you, to Will, you no longer did. Alexia had done what you’d been too preoccupied to think of and made Will a space that was entirely his own, a place he could feel safe and comforted. She’d made your home his home without a second thought. 

Without a word, you walked further into the room, choking back a sob as you laid a still sleeping Will down carefully on the bed. He shifted in his sleep, snuggling close to the soft pillows as you draped the throw blanket over him. 

When you finally turned back towards your girlfriend, she was hovering in the doorway, chewing on her bottom lip as she gazed at you worriedly. 

“Too much?” She whispered. 

You barely held back the scoff that would have been much too loud, crossing the room quickly and throwing your arms around her. 

“No. Perfect. You're perfect. Thank you.” You mumbled into her neck, pressing kiss after kiss to the skin you found there. Alexia tightened her hold, walking the two of you backwards and out the door so you didn’t wake Will. 

“Are you crying?” Alexia asked, her thumb tracing across your cheek bone as she leaned back from your embrace. 

You sniffled pathetically, leaning back in to press your forehead to Alexia’s chest and steady yourself. 

“I was just so overwhelmed and you did this and it’s perfect Ale. Thank you. Thank you.” 

Alexia pressed a kiss to the top of your head, squeezing you tightly. 

“You don’t have to thank me. I promised, no? I’m here. We are doing this together.” 

“I love you.” You cried, overwhelmed with love and wonder at what an incredible person your girlfriend was. You’d already known, but she always found a way to surprise you, doing something so absurdly kind and thoughtful that you were struck all over again with how good she was. 

“I love you too.” Alexia replied, swaying the two of you back and forth gently. 

There were still a lot of unknowns. A lot of problems to solve and things to figure out. But you’d never been more sure that you could do it. It wasn’t ideal, but you had Alexia and that was certainly ideal. 

—

JUST finished this so PLEASE tell me if you catch a typo also planning more parts to this but i'm VERY open to ideas if you have them :)

[fuck-customers]

Things I have explained to my parents when they start getting mad over small things as customers.

- the cashier scanning your groceries is not being careless or bad at her job, this store times the cashiers so she is clearly trying to stay on time and not get in trouble. This blew their minds that someone would be timed at a "no skill" job (their words not mine)

- the drive thru employee is not trying to be rude or annoying by greeting you too soon: they are required to greet you within a few seconds of your car setting off the sensor.

- the employees at this retail store are not trying to be pushy: they are required to greet you within a few seconds of you entering the store

- the cashier is required to ask you every single question they ask. And they hate it more than you do.

- the cashier is not dumb or "doesn't know how to X" because they had to call a manager for it. Every place I've worked for the past 5 years has been rolling back what employees are authorized to do, and they HAVE to call a manager. They know exactly how to do the thing, they are not allowed to and the computer likely will require a managers code to unlock that function. This confused them.

- the cashier knows the line is long, you don't need to tell them that. If they could call up another cashier they would have already.

- and a more work/life balance related one: my dad scheduled a family thing and assumed i could get the time off. What shocked him was that 1. It wasn't paid time off, and 2. It was denied, so I couldn't come til after work and thus was late. He has worked a job with generous PTO and accrued vacation days that schedules 6 months ahead for the past nearly 30 years. He absolutely was horrified to find out that I have to ask permission for unpaid time off and still couldn't be approved.

- funny followup to my dad's shock: I had been at my most recent job nearly a year and he was asking why they haven't promoted me yet. I was thrown off because why would they. He apparently assumed that since i 1. Showed up on time/early to every shift. 2. Had received positive verbal feedback wrt my performance from managers. And 3. Hadn't quit. That they would automatically start to move me up the ladder. It hurt my heart to shatter his wholesome view of how workplaces work now.

I feel like much of this is common knowledge for all of us, and yet my parents and many customers who haven't worked in the service industry in the past 10-20 years have no idea how this stuff works now.

On the positive side, my parents have slowly been becoming more patient with service workers, and complain to managers or anecdotally much less often. Baby steps!