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blueberrybirdsworld · 2 days ago

Text

Collision 10/20

Summary:

Lando always had a type : blonde, models, not ready to settle down. Yet once he met her, all his world is changed and he slowly start to realises maybe he was wrong all this time.

It's a prequel story of The Cat Distribution System, on how Lando Norris fall in love with Ariana. Could be read seperatly.

Pairing : lando norris x original female character

Genre : SMAU, Fluff, slow burn, enventual smut and angst

Warning : none

Serie Masterlist

CHAPTER 10 : SMAU

Brazil was beautiful.

The sky burned in soft blue over white sand and palm trees. The house his friends had rented was like something out of a commercial — open-air, sleek pool, view over the ocean, warm breeze even at night. Every room was already taken, suitcases unpacked, sunglasses thrown carelessly on tables.

Lando arrived late in the afternoon, exhausted from the flight, shoulders aching, eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep.

Not just from travel.

From thinking.

He stepped into the villa, greeted instantly by the sounds of voices, music, and the scent of grilled food. Someone was already mixing drinks in the kitchen. Flip-flops scuffed the tile floors. And as soon as he walked in—

“Landooo!” Max shouted, arms thrown open. “Finally. Took you long enough.”

Pietra appeared next, grinning. “We were about to leave you behind. Again.”

Charles and Alexandra lifted their drinks in a lazy toast from the lounge chairs by the pool. Carlos was sprawled out near the deck with Rebecca, both mid-laughter over something Lando couldn’t hear. Pierre waved from the kitchen, Kika already dancing barefoot with a speaker tucked under her arm.

It was like walking into a summer postcard.

Normally, he would’ve loved it.

He would’ve dropped his bag, grabbed a beer, thrown on music, jumped in the pool fully clothed just to make everyone laugh. But today—

He felt like he was walking through someone else’s story.

And he didn’t belong in it.

He gave a half-smile, did his best to fake the energy, let everyone pull him into a group hug that smelled of sunscreen and sun-warmed cotton.

But everyone noticed, he wasn’t fine.

An hour later, after greetings were exchanged and drinks handed out, Lando found himself sitting on a low wall near the edge of the deck, staring out at the ocean.

Pietra approached without a sound, then sat beside him.

“You okay?” she asked gently.

He hesitated.

She nudged him. “Is it because of the ballerina?”

He looked over at her, eyes tired. “Ari.”

Pietra blinked. “You call her that now?”

“She said I could.”

Pietra studied him for a long moment. “You miss her.”

He didn’t answer.

Behind them, the others were still laughing, shouting about something dumb Pierre had done on the flight. They were loud. Happy. Together.

Lando looked down at his hands.

“I didn’t think it would feel like this,” he said quietly.

Max appeared next, holding two beers. He handed one to Lando, took one look at his friend, and frowned. “You look like someone just crashed your car.”

“It’s not,” Pietra said. “It’s the ballerina.”

Carlos blinked. “Wait. What ballerina?”

Rebecca and Alexandra, overhearing from the patio, perked up. “There was a ballerina?”

Lando groaned. “Can we not do this?”

Pietra grinned. “Oh no, you don’t get to sulk and keep secrets. Spill.”

Lando exhaled. Looked out at the water.

And started talking. He told them everything.

By the time he was done, the sun had dipped lower, and no one was smiling anymore.

“She sounds… special” Alexandra began.

“She was,” Lando said quietly. “Is.”

Max leaned forward. “So why the hell did you come?”

“I had to,” Lando said. “It was booked. Everyone expected me. It’s for 2 weeks. It’s nothing.”

Pietra gave him a look. “It doesn’t sound like nothing.”

He looked down.

“I thought maybe it’d be easier,” he admitted. “To leave now. Before it got deeper. Before the goodbye got worse.”

Rebecca crossed her arms. “You already sound like someone who didn’t want to say goodbye.”

“I didn’t.”

“So why not say something?” Max asked. “You could’ve asked her. To be with you. To wait. To try.”

Lando’s voice was hollow. “Because what if she said no?”

That silenced them all.

He looked up at them, eyes raw.

“I didn’t know what we were. We didn’t label anything. I didn’t ask her to be my girlfriend. And I wanted to. God, I almost did. But I kept thinking—what if this was just a moment? Just a beautiful accident?”

He rubbed his hands together.

“She’s going back to Paris. I go back to Monaco. Her life is studios and stages. Mine is planes and paddocks. We had a few weeks. Maybe that’s all it was ever supposed to be.”

The group was quiet again.

Then Pietra said softly, “And maybe you’re just scared it could’ve been more.”

That hit like a punch. He didn’t respond.

Just reached for the beer he hadn’t touched and finally took a sip, eyes fixed on the horizon.

The night went on. The others drifted back into their noise, their dance, their joy.

But Lando stayed on the wall, staring into the dark waves.

The sound of her voice still echoed in his mind.

He could still feel her hands on him, still remember the way she’d said, You’re more than that.

But tonight, he wasn’t sure what he was anymore.

All he knew was that the seat beside him was empty.

And that her absence made everything else feel just a little too loud.

@landonorris 📍 Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

@maxfewtrell: bro we came to party and you’re out here filming an indie movie 😭

@carlossainz55: someone give him an acoustic guitar immediately

@kikacgomes: ok but aesthetic sad is still a serve

@sadgirlformula: Lando out here starting his “Sad Boy Summer” tour in Brazil 😭

@monetmclaren: since when does lando norris do sad sunsets??? what did we miss 😭

@f1daydreamz: HE LOOKS SO SAD WTF I’M GONNA CRY

@sunkissedmclaren: ok but like… who hurt him 🧍‍♀️

@paddockfairytale: i miss chaotic gremlin lando, who is THIS sad poet man omg

@lanternlovers: not to be dramatic but this is giving “i left my whole heart behind”

@drivertales: his friends are literally right there but my man is fighting for his life emotionally 😭

@paintedcircuits: first he’s at museums, now he’s posting sad sunsets… WHO IS SHE

@pietra Somewhere sunny and a little bit perfect ✨

@maxfewtrell: My whole world in one post 🥹🖤

@landonorris: you guys are disgustingly cute. send help.

@alexandra_stmleux: you’re glowing 🥹✨

@carlossainz55: best looking couple here and i’m not even mad about it

@kikacgomes: the way you both just radiate summer love 🏝️🫶🏼

@rebecca_dns golden hour? more like golden couple 😍

@beachbumf1: not pietra and max winning at life rn 🏖️✨

@softforpietra: she’s so pretty it’s actually insane omg

@saltyhairdreams: THEY'RE GLOWING ??? i want what they have pls 😭

@maxsupremacy: max you lucky man fr 😭🖤

@lantern.boy: not to be rude but lando is 100% third wheeling this trip 😭😭😭

@sunsetgrid: lando tagging along to couple trips >>> peak youngest sibling energy 🫶🏼

@f1shenanigans: somebody go hug lando pls he’s looking like the human version of 🥲

@f1gossipdaily

#LandoNorris seen soaking up the sun in Brazil with his usual crew… except this time, he’s the only single one.

Max Fewtrell & Pietra Pilão, Charles Leclerc & Alexandra Saint Mleux, Pierre Gasly & Kika Gomes, Carlos Sainz & Rebecca Donaldson are all loved-up while Lando seems… well, third-wheeling a little 👀

Sources say he’s been keeping it lowkey, but fans are buzzing: if the ballerina girl rumors were true, why isn't she here? 🤔 Is Lando back to solo vacations and his partyboy era? 🍾

No clear signs of a new girl on this trip — but the speculation is louder than ever.

@speedytea: okay but if that ballerina thing was real she would be here ?? feels fake now

@ferrarifever: single handly third-wheeling four couples at once... iconic behavior

@wornoutsofts: lando back in his playboy era after ONE soft girl, it didn't fix him i fear 😩

@turn1drama: the way i checked that girl’s insta and she’s like... soft aesthetic??? book girl??? YEAH NO WAY he’s into that lmao

@drsactivated: y’all really thought he was gonna change bc of one date 💀💀💀 pls

@silverstonegossip: it’s giving “i'm so single it hurts” energy 😭😭

@curblover44: i love lando but dude’s soul LEFT his body on that trip

@oversteerangel: someone said he’s on a couples retreat against his will and i haven’t stopped laughing since 😭

@f1mess: girl was a phase. he needs someone with a little spice not a ballet dancer posting flowers and poetry 💀

@wornouttires: not to be mean but i never bought the lando x ballerina thing... she’s sweet but boring af for him

@fanbehaviorf1: this trip alone proves it. he’s not changing for anybody lmao 😭😭

@softlandon: ok but?? did y’all even LOOK at his latest post?? bro looks like he’s missing someone fr 😭

@racinghearts4u: his whole vibe is “sad and lost at sunset” like HELLO he’s in his feelings

@sunlightdreamers: he’s literally surrounded by friends and still looks miserable... it’s not giving playboy energy it’s giving i miss her energy 😭🫶

@arianariverria

Only two weeks left in the Royal Opera House of London, I pass an increadible year here, I make friends for life and learn so more about me, as a person, as a dancer. Only two shows left nex week and preparations are intense but worse it. Then I will be back at home in Paris though a part of me will always be here.🌸🩰

@petalsandpirouettes you are literal poetry in motion 😭🕊️ this year was so magical to watch from afar

@stageleftdarling watching your growth this season has been breathtaking. you deserve the world and more

@ballerinabloom can’t believe it’s almost over 😢 but can’t wait to see what’s next for you!!

@balletbygrace Paris is lucky to have you back — but London will miss you dearly 🥺

@dancealive crying. don’t look at me. I’m emotional and proud. and also booking front row to Paris ASAP

@f1updatesfan so uh. does this mean we’ll see her and Lando in Paris again soon 👀

@carbonfiberballet someone check on @landonorris he’s probably counting the days until she’s leaving 💔

@landoforeverrr She always posts when Lando post. Like she wants people to remember she used to matter 😭

@f1gridgossip rumor has it he already moved on 👀 been partying non-stop in Brazil and someone said he left with a girl last night 👋

@landoisa she’s way too sensitive for him anyway. he needs someone fun, not someone who makes him mope and cry over ballet

@f1paparazzix people say she left the UK because he dumped her… not the other way around. she’s just spinning it cute now lol

@gridgirlshade Why does she act like she’s some big celeb 😭 girl you’re a side character in someone else’s plot

@f1dramaunfiltered y’all saw him at that party in São Paulo?? she’s out here journaling and he’s living his best life 😂

@landospeedqueen why is she pretending everything’s fine when he clearly dumped her 💀

@landobacktolife This is what happens when you date out of your league… no hate but she was never it

@alonsoverse can she just stop using ballet aesthetics to distract us from the fact that her "bf" is probably hooking up with someone else rn 😭

@stageleftdarling People really out here hating on a literal artist who’s just saying goodbye to a stage?? Be serious.

@kika.girard you’re pure grace. let the noise be noise.

@gridgirldiaries they’re mad because you’re soft and strong and Lando’s clearly in love. keep shining.

@arianafansupport sending all the love to Ari. block buttons exist for a reason 💗

@arianariveraupdates can we just talk about the caption… the way she’s been so open this season. proud of our girl 💖

⚠️ Several comments have been removed for violating Instagram’s guidelines

Text Conversation:

Ariana: hey. sorry if this is weird. just wanted to ask something.

Lando: not weird. ask anything.

Ariana: i saw some things online. comments under my last post. people saying stuff about you. about… someone else. i know it’s stupid. but i just— i needed to ask. is there someone else?

…typing

Lando: Ari. no. god, no. there’s no one. there hasn’t been anyone. you don’t have to ask that. i hate that people made you feel like you do.

Ariana: i didn’t want to believe it. but it’s been quiet between us. since you left. it felt like… like maybe you were done.

Lando: i’m not done. i could never be done. the truth is, i didn’t know how to talk to you. leaving felt wrong and weird and too final, and i hated it but i didn’t know how to say that without sounding needy or selfish

Ariana: it didn’t sound selfish. it sounded like goodbye. and i think… maybe that’s what hurt the most.

Lando: i’m sorry. i thought space would be kinder than clinging. i thought you needed focus. your last two shows. the closing of a chapter. i didn’t want to distract you. but it looks like i made things worse instead

Ariana: you didn’t mean to. i know that. i’m just… tired. it’s been a lot. pressures from the company, the final choreography, the stress, the hours… i haven’t really been sleeping.

Lando: wait, what do you mean? how long haven’t you been sleeping?

Ariana: it’s not serious. just the usual pre-show spiral. the perfectionism. the rehearsals. the what-ifs.

Lando: Ari. you can’t burn yourself out. not for this.

Ariana: i have to. it’s what i do.

Lando: i hate that answer.

Ariana: i know. but it’s honest.

Lando: can i help somehow? anything? do you want me to come back?

Ariana: no. you shouldn’t.

Lando: why not?

Ariana: because it’s your break. you haven’t had real time off in months. you should rest. be with your friends. live a little.

Lando: how can i rest knowing you’re not okay?

Ariana: i’ll be okay. it’s just… hard. i think i didn’t realise how much it would hurt to have you gone. and now i don’t even know when we’ll see each other again. and i hate not knowing.

Lando: me too. i miss you. so much.

Ariana: i miss you too. but you deserve to enjoy this part of your life too. without worrying about the girl who stayed behind.

Lando: you're not just the girl who stayed behind. you're the girl I’m waiting for. no matter how far, how long it gets. that hasn’t changed.

seen 12:02 AM

Lando: okay, i know you said you’re “fine” but just in case you forget: you need to eat something real today. not just coffee

Ariana: you set an alarm for this, didn’t you

Lando: 😇 london time, 2pm. daily. “text the beautiful ballerina and ask if she’s had protein yet”

Ariana: you’re a menace

Lando: i’m a concerned menace who knows you forget meals when you get in your head

Ariana: …i did forget lunch. but i’m making a smoothie now don’t yell

Lando: that’s not food

Ariana: it has banana AND peanut butter protein ✔️

Lando: i’m setting another alarm. 9pm. “remind Ariana to sleep before she convinces herself to stretch ‘just one more time’ until 2am”

Ariana: rude. and accurate.

Lando: i know you.

Ariana: you really do.

Lando: and i’m worried, Ari

Ariana: you don’t have to worry but it means a lot that you do i’m trying. really. it’s just a hard week

Lando: i know and if i can’t be there then i’ll be here. texting. reminding. annoying. whatever it takes

Ariana: thank you for remembering for setting alarms in another time zone for not forgetting me when you could have

Lando: never and just in case it gets hard again tonight here’s your official 2am emergency message in advance:

Lando: you’re doing better than you think you’re allowed to rest you don’t have to be perfect you’re already enough

Ariana: you’re going to make me cry in the dressing room

Lando: then cry. and when you’re done, eat something with carbs. and text me when you’re home tonight, yeah?

Ariana: okay i will and… thank you, Lando really

Lando: no thanks needed i’m with you even from 5,000 miles away

Ariana: just got home rehearsal ran late again 🙃

Lando: ari what time is it over there

Ariana: ...1:36am

Lando: 🤦‍♂️ do you ever listen to me

Ariana: you’re the one who told me to text when i got home i’m being responsible actually 😇

Lando: you’re being a gremlin who survives on nerves and chamomile tea

Ariana: accurate also i might have forgotten the tea

Lando: ariana.

Ariana: don’t full-name me i’m fragile rn

Lando: you said you’d go to sleep before midnight tonight i set my alarm and everything

Ariana: i was going to but we had to run the pas de deux three more times then spacing got messed up then my right foot cramped

Lando: have you eaten anything since your banana smoothie at 2pm

Ariana: 🥲 there was a granola bar in my bag

Lando: that’s not a meal that’s a cry for help

Ariana: you’re so dramatic

Lando: says the girl standing in her kitchen at 2am with a sore ankle and a granola wrapper for dinner

Ariana: i’m sitting actually and wrapped in a blanket aria is judging me

Lando: good. at least someone is

Ariana: i miss you even your scolding

Lando: i miss you too but i’m not gonna pretend this doesn’t worry me you can’t keep running on empty like this

Ariana: i just want it to be perfect it’s my last show here i want them to remember me for the right reasons

Lando: they already will you’re unforgettable, Ari not because you run yourself into the ground but because you make everything you do feel like art

Ariana: stop that made me emotional and sleepy but mostly emotional

Lando: good now drink water brush your teeth and sleep i swear if i have to hire a ninja to break into your place and force melatonin into your tea, i will

Ariana: terrifying and oddly sweet okay going now promise

Lando: good you’re doing amazing and i’m so proud of you

Ariana: you always say the right thing

Lando: if you’re not asleep in the next 20 minutes i’m setting another alarm and calling you in a terrible french accent until you hang up

Ariana: ...sleeping now goodnight, Lando

Lando: bonne nuit, ballerine 💛 dream something soft

seen 1:47 AM

Taglist : @angelluv16, @httpsxnox, @anunstablefangirl, @chocolatemagazinecupcake, @mayax2o07, @freyathehuntress, @verogonewild, @esw1012, @lilyofthevalley-09, @its-me-frankie, @linneaguriii, @ezzi-ln4, @rlbmutynnek, @actuallyazriel, @sofs16, @thulior, @sltwins, @knivesdoingcartwheels, @henna006

Let me know if you wanted to be added to the taglist !

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gracie-eilish · 2 days ago

Note

can you do pregnant billie ?

babys orders

pairings: pregnant!billie x reader

warnings: none

an: … i’m kinda soft at the idea of taking care of snuggly, pregnant, baby mama billie🥹🫨🥰 might do more of these once i’m done with requests

here is the winning draft number from last night haha!!

The sun hadn’t fully broken through the curtains yet, casting a soft, golden haze across the bedroom. The world outside was quiet. There were no cars, no texts, no noise. Just you guys. And the way Billie had wrapped herself around you like a warm, clingy octopus, you’d think the world had stopped turning altogether.

Billie was nestled against you, her breath warm on your neck, one leg hooked over yours, her belly, round and full, pressed snugly against your side. Even now, heavily pregnant, she was still a master of the cuddle trap. You stirred gently, trying to slip out from under her, but she groaned and tightened her grip like you were her emotional support pillow.

“Mm-mm. Don’t go,” she mumbled, voice low and sleepy. “Stay. Baby says stay.”

You laughed softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Lovey, I was gonna make you breakfast. Thought maybe waffles, some fruit…”

“Mmm. That sounds amazing,” she whispered. “But baby says we need five more minutes. For bonding.”

You smiled into her hair. “Did the baby really say that? Or are you using them as an excuse again?”

Billie opened one eye just barely and gave you a sleepy grin. “I’m incubating a whole person. I can do whatever I want. Including keeping my wife in bed like a teddy bear.”

You stroked her back slowly, letting her soak in the comfort. “Fair enough. But if I don’t get started soon, your waffle cravings might turn into rage.”

“They already have. I’m just hiding it because you’re warm,” she whispered, nuzzling into your chest.

You laid like that a little longer. Five minutes turning into fifteen as she hummed occasionally and rubbed lazy circles on her belly. At one point she looked down at it and whispered, “Tell Mommy we’re comfy in here. Say, ‘No waffles, only cuddles.’”

You chuckled and placed your hand on her bump. “Okay, you little waffle thief. But at some point, I will make food, or your mom is going to start eating throw pillows.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Billie murmured sleepily.

Eventually, you kissed her temple and gently pulled away. “Let me go warm up the shower for you. Get that beautiful body nice and relaxed.”

She groaned, dramatic and theatrical, but let you go. “Fine. But I expect luxury. Maybe some mood lighting.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” You chuckled, disappearing into the bathroom. You turned the water on warm, verging on hot the way she liked it, and set out her robe, towel, and that lavender body wash that always helped her unwind. The bathroom filled with steam fast, curling around the mirror and making the whole room feel like a little cloud.

When you called out to her that the shower was ready, she finally waddled in, clutching her belly like it was her favorite stuffed animal. “If you weren’t already married to me, I’d propose again for this.”

You winked. “You just want waffles.”

She grinned and kissed your cheek. “…Maybe both.”

While she showered, you got to work in the kitchen, making waffles with crispy edges, soft centers, plenty of fresh strawberries, and an almost irresponsible amount of whipped cream. You even poured her some decaf coffee and cut her a slice of melon, because she’d mentioned craving something juicy the night before.

You were plating everything when you heard the bathroom door open and her soft footsteps pad into the living room. Billie looked like a vision of sleep-kissed beauty, pink cheeks, hair damp, and wrapped in her oversized robe that barely closed around her now. She cradled her belly with both hands like it was the most precious thing in the universe.

“Smells like heaven,” she said dreamily, coming up behind me.

You turned and kissed her, one hand resting automatically on her bump. “You hungry, Mama?”

She giggled. “Starving. Baby’s been kicking like crazy, like they know breakfast is coming.”

“Oh, yeah?” You leaned down and pressed your lips gently to her belly. “Hey, little one. Your waffle order’s up.”

Billie laughed and stroked your hair. “They’re excited. I felt a little somersault earlier. I think they’re practicing their Olympic routine.”

You moved to the couch instead of the table. She plopped herself down in the corner like a cat and patted the spot next to her.

“Couch breakfast,” she declared. “It’s tradition now. Plus, I like using my bump as a tray.”

Sure enough, as soon as you handed her the plate, she giggled and rested it gently right on her belly.

“Look at that. Perfect balance.” She beamed proudly. “Tell me I’m not a genius.”

“You’re a genius,” You said, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close. “A very round, very cute genius.”

She snorted. “I feel like a squishmallow.”

You kissed the side of her head. “You look like a dream.”

She nibbled on a strawberry and rested her head against your shoulder, then whispered, “I can’t believe we’re gonna meet them soon. Like… we made a whole person.”

You placed a hand on her belly again. “You did most of the work. I’m just the emotional support.”

“Well, you’re very good at it,” she said with a soft smile. “I hope they have your eyes. And your calm. I need at least one of you to be chill.”

“And I hope they get your voice,” you said. “And your laugh. And your stubbornness, even though it drives me crazy.”

She laughed then, light and real. “They’re definitely stubborn already. Won’t let me sleep on my back, only my side. Bossy little thing.”

“They just want you comfy…. And full of waffles.”

Billie finished her last bite and set the plate down, sighing in contentment. Then, with absolutely no shame, she curled into you like a sleepy cat, her hands around your waist and her belly pressing right into your side again.

“I’m gonna nap here,” she whispered. “You can’t leave. You’re stuck.”

“Oh, really?” You grinned. “Didn’t I just escape this trap earlier?”

“Nope. Round two,” she said, yawning. “Babys orders.”

And just like that, you were right back where you started. Wrapped up together, belly and all, in a cocoon of warmth, love, and sweet baby-talk nonsense. The world could wait.

#gracie eilish #billie eilish #wlw #fanfiction #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish fluff #billie eilish fic #billie eilish x fem!reader #billie x you #billie eilish x female reader #billie eilish x you #billie eilish fanfiction #billie x reader #billie eilish x y/n #billie x y/n #billie x fem reader

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cinnamoonblue · 2 days ago

Text

Chapter X | Daddy* Issues

Summary: You moved to one of the biggest cities in the world - Grand Line to pursue filmmaking career. Soon enough your path will cross with the vocalist of upcoming band called “The Neighbourhood”. At first you decided to be just friends - because it would be easier, but sadly as everything in life sometimes by taking the easy path we regret a lot of things.

Main characters: Portgas D Ace x Reader (female)

Supporting characters: Nami, Usopp, Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Law, Deuce, Shanks, Buggy, Sabo, Eustass Kid, Koala, Robin, Dave (OC)

Description: Modern AU | Musician Ace

WARNINGS: explicit language, mentions of alcohol, mentions of cigarettes/nicotine, mentions of drug/substance use, mentions of overdosing, mentions of loneliness, angst, mentions of of depression, mentions of death, losing a loved one, anxiety, mentions of panic attack, mention of relapse, family trauma

Word Count: 14,3K

<- previous chapter | story masterlist | main masterlist | next chapter ->

NOTE: Please, pay attention to the warnings! This chapter was suppose to be double the length, but I decided that it is for the best to post it like this. I expect that a lot of you might drop the story after this chapter, because Reader is about to do/say something that will definitely come out as very offensive to many, especially if you haven't been or had bad relationship with a parent of yours. It's okay to judge her, but I also hope you understand where those words/actions come from. I hope you will forgive me and not hate me much. Thank you for your patience and support ♡ Ily ♡ Enjoy ♡

Sitting in the front of Usopp’s car I sighed exhausted. The week of shooting rolled fast, and it was so nice to be back in the city. Nami, Usopp and I were on our way to university to return all the equipment we had used for the movie. We were all tired from the long week we had, but at the end it was worth it as the filming went super smoothly and the scenes turned out beautiful.

“You, guys don’t understand how much this is bugging me.” Nami whined as she had for a thousandth of time this week brought up the fact that someone has anonymously donated one thousand dollars to us and helped reach our goal for the donations. “It must be some of Sanji’s rich friends at the party, I’m telling you.” She pointed with her finger at Usopp and me from the backseat of Usopp’s car.

“Does it really matter?” I looked at her with a tired smile. “At the end we reached the goal.”

“We actually went over it.” Usopp pointed out and I hummed agreeing with him.

“Come on.” Nami exclaimed annoyed with us. “You can’t be serious and not be curious who might have sent us the money.”

“We are, juts not as much as you are.” I turned a bit to the side to face her better as I stuck my tongue out to annoy her.

“God forbit a girl gets curious.” She rolled her eyes at me, laughing as she pushed my head away with one hand. “Anyway, wanna grab something to eat after we leave the equipment?” Propping her elbows on the back of the front seats she leaned closer to Usopp and I.

“Hell yeah.” Usopp and I said at the same time.

I have missed this. In the past two, almost three months now, I was avoiding Nami and Usopp as much as I could and after this week spent with them, when we were constantly together during filming and the free time in between shoots, as we used to be before, the realization of how much I had missed them hit me like a truck.

I have known them for less than a year, but they both have become so close and special to me to a point where I didn’t realize it until now.

“We must treat ourselves with a very nice dinner, don’t you think guys?” I looked at both of them with a big smile spread across my face.

“Finally, we speak the same language.” Nami squeaked excitedly.

It took us around an hour to return all the equipment, and in the middle of it, all of our energy went out of the window, so instead of going to a restaurant we went to Nami’s place and order take away food.

Usopp was first to leave her place, as he couldn’t wait any longer to see Kaya. He offered to drive me home, but I turned down the offer as I decided to stay a bit longer with Nami.

We said goodbye to Usopp and Nami went to lock the door after him. Coming back, she clapped her hands as she sat down on the sofa next to me and cleared her throat. “So, it’s finally just the two of us.” Straightening her posture, she gave me a small smile like she expected something from me.

“Why you say it like we didn’t share a room for a whole week?” I looked at her with one brow slightly raised. During the whole production we shared a bedroom in the summer house of one of our classmates, where we all stayed, so I was slightly confused by her comment.

“Yes, but there I couldn’t speak with you.” She pointed out while taking a sip of her soft drink.

“Nami, what do you mean you couldn’t talk to me?” I was getting really confused. She and I spoke every night, day, and every free second we had on set, what was she on about? “We spoke nonstop.”

“Yes, but not about what I really want to speak with you about.” She gave me a knowing look and slowly I started to connect the dots. “Sanji’s party? You being distant since Christmas break? Should I continue or mention names… name?” She emphasized on ‘name’ like I didn’t catch what she meant by it.

Placing the plate on the coffee table from my lap, I took a deep breath before speaking. I knew this conversation was coming, but I was hoping that she would give me a bit more time. She would also not let me get away from it, so I didn’t have much of a choice, but to get it over with.

Taking her hands in mine I looked at her eyes before I spoke up. “I am so sorry Nami. I know that I had been a bad friend in the past few months, but I was going through something…” Taking another deep breath in I needed a moment before I could continue. “Maybe I’m still going through it and I… I just pushed everyone away. For which I’m sorry.”

“I appreciate the apology, but why? What happened?”

It was very hard to keep eye contact with her right now, so I looked away. What was I supposed to say; - “Yes, Nami. You were right about Ace.”

“You know I won’t tell anyone.” She moved closer to me. “Something happened with Ace, didn’t it?” Her voice is gentle, comforting even and as much as I wanted to tell her what had been going on for the past few months, I didn’t know where to start; all I could do was just nod with my head. “From the scale of one to ten how bad are things between you two right now?”

A small sarcastic laughter escaped my lips. “Eleven. Maybe even twelve.” As much as I tried to hide the pain that still lingered in my heart, my eyes betrayed me. It was like my own body betrayed me every time his name was mentioned.

Nami’s eyes widened a bit, not expecting to hear that things were this bad. “I don’t want to push you into talking if you don’t want to, but I’m here to listen without judging.” She pulled me for a hug. When Nami wrapped her arms around me I laid my head on her shoulder and thanked her.

“It’s kind of a long story you know…” I whispered as I pulled away from her.

With a shrug and wink Nami replied to me, “I have time.”

I told her everything with every single detail - from the ‘not official date’, till the last time I saw him at Sanji’s party. The whole time Nami was listening, gasping from time to time, making small comments like ‘No way.’ , ‘You’re kidding.’ , ‘This asshole.’ ect.

“And lastly, at the party he wanted me to give him a chance to start things all over again or whatever.” I rolled my eyes remembering the moment when Ace locked me in a room with him. “By the way this whole thing with Kid there was to get a reaction out of Ace or whatever.” This was something I wanted to clarify before she asked about it. “And it was his idea.”

“It did work.” Nami chuckled. Raising one of my brows I tilted my head to the side, questioning her what she meant by this. “You did get a reaction from him. I saw how Ace was looking at you the whole time while you were ignoring him. I think he got jealous.” I haven’t put much thought into this, mostly because one day after the party we went away to film and my mind was occupied with other things which led me not to allow myself to think much of what Ace had said to me.

“But what did he mean by start all over again?” Nami’s voice changed from understanding one to aggravated by all she had heard so far. “Like what? Friends? Lovers? What exactly?” I couldn’t respond to this question as well as I hadn’t allowed myself to dig much into it or at all.

“I don’t know Nami.” Looking down at my hands and playing nervously with my fingers I took a deep breath. “I haven’t put many thoughts into it, nor did I ask him.”

“Good.” She was quick to say. “I can’t believe it. I’ve always known that he is not serious when it comes to girls, but after all you’ve told me…” Looking at me with big disappointment in her eyes, Nami shook her head. “I don’t think I’ll want to see Ace ever again.”

“You know what hurt me the most?” I quietly said. “He never said sorry.” Biting on my lower lip, I could feel my eyes watering. “He just came and asked for a fresh start without even apologize for the damage he has done.”

“Please, don’t cry.” Nami grabbed me by the shoulders and pulled me closer to her in a hug. “This asshole doesn’t deserve more tears from you.”

“It just… it still hurts…” Saying this out loud made it even more painful. I have never been stuck on someone for so long, why was it so hard to move on from him? What was it that made him so special?

“Do you still have feelings for him?” Nami’s voice was quiet, it came out almost as a whisper.

I stayed in her arms without moving. This was another question I have avoided asking myself. Did I still have feelings for Ace? Probably. Did I want to dig deeper into myself to find the proper answer? No.

“I don’t know.” I answered, pulling away from her. Looking behind Nami to avoid her gaze, I noticed the time on the clock hanging on the wall. “Gosh, look at the time. I must go home.” Getting up from the sofa in a hurry, Nami got the hint and followed after me.

“You can stay over if you want.” Her suggestion sounded very nice, but I needed some alone time, especially right now.

“Thank you, Nami but I’m missing my own bed a bit too much.” I raised my head and smiled at her while I was putting my shoes on. Getting up on my feet and unlocking the door I looked back at her. “Are you going to edit with me and Usopp this week?”

“Probably.” She said, as she opened the door. “Please, text me when you get home.”

“I will.” Taking a step closer to her, I hugged her once again. “Thank you, Nami. I haven’t realized how much I needed a girl talk until tonight.”

“Oh, please, you know I love gossip.” She joked as she patted me on the back. “Now go. You don’t want to miss the metro.”

Going back to the neighborhood where he grew up was never easy for Ace. He left this part of town eight years ago when he was eighteen and since then if his aunt didn’t really need help with something he would not come back. Not because he felt ashamed of where he grew up, but because he wasn’t very wanted there. This area of town he couldn’t escape his birth name and the blood running through his veins. Here no matter what he was known as Gol D Ace, no matter how many times he corrected people no one bothered to listen to him, all they saw in his face was a famous criminal’s bastard.

Taking his helmet off, he deeply inhaled and exhaled before getting off his motorbike. He hasn’t seen or talked with his aunt in months. Their relationship was very rocky since Ace went and almost beat the life out of Teach. Not like the relationship between them before this event was good, but after that night things went completely downhill, and that was why Ace was here today. He needed answers to a lot of questions, which only his aunt could give him.

Stepping into the familiar old porch Ace knocked on the front door. He waited for a moment before the door opened and his aunt stood in front of him confused.

“Ace? What are you doing here?” Dadan couldn’t hide the surprise in her voice. It has been at least eight months since the last time she had seen her nephew.

“Came to visit.” Ace replied, pointing with his eyes towards the hallway, asking for permission to enter the house.

“Come on in, boy.” Dadan moved to the side and let Ace in. “No, need to take your shoes of, I’m in the middle of deep cleaning anyway.”

Both made their way to the kitchen, the place still the same, nothing has changed since… forever. The old wooden kitchen cabinets were in desperate need of change, the sunlight streamed through a small window above the sink, casting a soft glow on the well-worn surfaces. The fridge being at least thirty years old, now with surprisingly a lot of pictures and magnets hung on it, something Ace didn’t remember being a thing in this household as he grew up here. The only thing that was new was the stove.

The kitchen, though old and in need of repair, remained the heart of the house Ace once used to call home, not sure if it did feel like one, but it was a place where memories were made and shared.

In the middle of the kitchen was the dining table. Pulling one of the chairs, Ace sat down and waited for his aunt to join him. “I see you finally bought a new stove.” He was the first one to break the silence.

“Yea, it was time to say goodbye to the old one.” Lifting the coffee pot in one hand she asked with a gesture if he wanted some, to which he nodded. Pouring two cups with coffee, the mid-fifties years old woman brought them to the table and sat down opposite her nephew. “I must thank you for it.”

Since the band had taken off so fast and things were going financially great for the guys, Ace started sending Dadan money every month. He was aware that she was still struggling with bills so sending her a few hundred per month didn’t hurt his pockets at all.

“Don’t need to.” He told her, taking a sip of the coffee. The taste of it was very bitter, too bitter even for his preferences, but he didn’t say anything, he just put the cup down and cleared his throat.

Taking a good look at his aunt, he could see that she was starting to age more visibly now. After all she was pushing to be sixty in a few years, and she was never the type of woman to take much care of her appearance. Her hair was curly and untamed as aways, now with some silver lining locks on it. Her face has a bit more wrinkles than before, but other than this she was the same. Oversized shirt and her favorite dark olive pants. These pants were such a trademark on her, till this day Ace wondered how she managed to find the exact same color and how did people still produce them or she just both a hundred pairs one day twenty years ago and since then she stuck with them.

“So, how’s life?” Small talks were always uncomfortable for him. He knew why he was here, but he wasn’t sure how to ask, how to start or formed his questions aloud.

“My life?” Dadan responded with a sarcastic laugh. “Same old, brat. Same old.” She shook her head. Her life has been the same since she could remember, which made her sad. Life wasn’t the fairest towards her, but this was something she never complained about, nor that she could if she wanted to. “I should be asking you this. You’re a big star now.” She reached over the table and patted Ace’s shoulder.

Awkward laughter escaped past Ace’s lips. Was he a star? Maybe…? Was he a big star? Definitely not.

“I wouldn’t call myself big.” Ace said, propping one elbow on the table and massaging his temple with his fingers.

Clicking with her tongue, Dadan hummed. “Don’t get modest now. You’re a big thing. I hear you on the radio at least once a day. Yesterday in the supermarket they played one of your songs while I was at the check-out.” Dadan smirked as she took another sip of her coffee. “You should have seen the face of the cashier girl when I told her my nephew and kid are you and Sabo.”

Ace couldn’t contain to withhold the bitter laughter that left his lips. He had always been the nephew, Sabo and Luffy were her kids. Dadan never referred to him as her kid or son, even though she raised him since day one and he did in fact share the same blood with her.

Dadan gave him a strange look, wondering what Ace was laughing about. “What’s funny, brat?”

Poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue, Ace snorted as he needed a second. Looking down at the floor he slowly shook his head as he ran one hand over his face. He came here with a lot of questions, and he planned to have answers for them, whenever he liked what he would hear or not.

“Don’t you wonder why I came here unannounced?” Straightening his posture, he finally looked his aunt in the eyes.

Dadan observed his face carefully. She would be lying if she said that her heart didn’t break from time to time for her nephew. This kid grew up with so much sorrow and anger in his heart. There was always this mixture of lust for life and sadness deep coded in his eyes. Part of her had wondered if he had ever felt happiness, real happiness in his life? She also knew that a big part of this sorrow came from her and the way she raised him, but what could she have done better?

“I do, Ace. You barely call or come to visit.” She didn’t dare to move her eyes as she was focused on guessing what was going on in his mind. Why did he look so tired, so miserable. “You do send me money, but… that’s all.” And this hurt her.

No matter how much trouble Ace had caused her in the past she did miss him. She wouldn’t say it aloud, but she did. And right now, she could see that something was clearly bothering him.

“Are there any problems with the band?” Ace just shook his head and mouthed ‘no’. “Is everything okay with Sabo and Luffy?” She only got a nod for a response. “Then what is it, brat? I’m not going to play guess with you.” Her tone became a bit harsh. Dadan was never a woman with a patience. With the way Ace was acting right now, her patience was running tin.

Hitting the table with his hand Ace couldn’t take it anymore. “Has it ever crossed your mind that I might not be okay?” The woman in front of him got a bit taken aback from his outburst. “Why is it away – how are Sabo and Luffy, but never how is Ace?”

For the first time ever, Dadan could not only see the sadness in her nephew’s eyes but hear the pain in his voice. What has happened to cause this?

Ace on the other hand was breaking from the inside. He was feeling at the edge of his being. After the last time he had seen (Y/N) at Sanij’s party, and how much he had hurt her, he wanted nothing else but to end it all. The pain in her eyes made him feel literal physical pain and he couldn’t believe that he had caused it. The only person who had brought a bit of peace of mind and happiness into his life, he had hurt so cruelly that he knew it was beyond repair. She would never forgive nor want to have anything with him ever again – and he deserved it.

That was why Ace was here today. He wanted to know – was he bad because of who he was a person or because of the blood that ran through his veins? Maybe Ace was a bad person after all, but he needed to know if it was all on him, or he could have a little peace with himself that and blame his father for the way he was. Did blood have anything to do with how we turn out as people or was it all based on another factors? Could we blame someone on how we turned as adults – good or bad, or the only person we could blame was no other but ourselves?

“You know, no need to answer this.” Ace waved his hand in front of his face to brush off the question he just asked. The answer was always obvious he didn’t need an answer to know it. “I didn’t come here for this question in particular, I came because…” Shutting his eyes and biting on his lower lip, he took a deep breath before he could say the name of his so-called father aloud. “I want to know about Roger.”

Dadan couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Ace had never asked about his father; about his mother – yes, but father – never.

“What do you want to know about him?” She asked, carefully observing Ace.

Pushing the chair a bit, Ace propped his elbows on his knees and buried his head in the palms of his hands as he slowly started to rub his head. He was having so many headaches recently and they were killing him. “Everything you know, with details.”

Dadan needed a minute or even more. What did she know about Roger? To be honest she didn’t know much. All she knew was mostly what people were talking about him – a criminal, a bad person. That was all she knew or at least wanted to believe.

With a heavy heart Dadan got up from the chair without saying anything, leaving Ace in the kitchen alone. She made her way to her bedroom. Going to her old chest of drawers, she opened the last one. There in an old box she kept something away from Ace since he was born, and now she started to realize that maybe she should have given it to him way earlier in his life. She wasn’t even sure why she hadn’t given it to him already, but she thought that he never cared to begin with about his parents or how they lived their lives.

Opening the old box there was a pink covered diary with black laced flowers around it and a little quote – ‘Do everything in love’. It used to belong to her sister Rouge. There she had written so much about her life and mostly her relationship with Roger. There might be all the answers Ace was looking for.

Going back into the kitchen, her nephew was still there. He sat on the chair with his back hunched over the table, lost in his own thoughts. Placing the diary in front of him on the table, he gave her a questioning look. Walking to her chair, she sat back down and pointed at it.

“This is your mother’s. All the questions or answers you’re looking for about your father must be there.”

“Have you read it?” Ace reached to take the dairy. It wasn’t very big, clearly very old, but it was quite used. His mom must have written a lot in it.

Avoiding looking at him, partly ashamed, Dadan nodded. “Yes… yes, I have.”

Opening the diary Ace slowly started to read through it. Most pages were with dates. His mother had a lot of hobbies, some quite strange from what he was reading. Most of the pages had stickers or pictures attached to them. His mother was a very interesting person. Page after page he finally reached the one where his father’s name was mentioned for the first time ever.

01.01.1997

The New Year’s Eve party I went to last night was amazing. I danced and sang all night. It was one of the best parties I’ve ever been to. It was with a lot of new people I’ve never met before, but it was so much fun.

I also met a very interesting man there. At first, he was loud and annoying, and I couldn’t stand him. He didn’t stop bothering me the whole night and demanding a dance with me. Finally, I gave up and I agreed to have one dance with him if he would leave me alone after and he agreed.

At first, I liked nothing about this man. He was obviously a bit older than me, but it wasn’t this that bothered me. But it all changed with one stupid joke and his jokes were awful (note to myself if I ever have a son – make sure to tell him to pick good jokes).

But this joke made me laugh like I’ve never had before, and it was like a light switch. Something changed like in a movie. It was like I got under a spell or something, because now I can’t stop thinking about this man. I can’t stop thinking about Roger.

06.01.1997

I thought that I would never see him again, but I was wrong. Today when I was at work someone walked into the flower shop and asked for me, saying that he was being told I work there. I was in the back when I heard my name being called. It was him. It was Roger.

He asked one of my friends where I work, and they told him, and he came to see me. He also invited me on a date. We are going out this Wednesday. Where? I don’t know, he said that it was a surprise.

I feel a bit weird about how excited I feel about this date. I’ve never felt like this before. Should I be afraid?

23.03.1997

Things with Roger are going great. I’ve never been more in love with someone as much as with him. I’m not just in love with him… I feel like I love him, but I’m a bit afraid to tell him. We have been together for two months. What if I scare him away?

But there is something else… he is hiding something from me. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t like it. Sometimes he acts weird, and he is quite rich for a man who claims to own just a pizzeria. I think he is doing something illegal, but I’m not a hundred percent sure. I must ask him.

14.04.1997

I was right and I don’t know how to feel about it. Roger confessed to me what he was up to. But he also confessed that he loved me.

I need time. I do love him as well. I do… a lot… but, I’m not sure if I can look past the fact that he is a up to a lot of illegal activities. This steps over my boundaries for what is moral and what not.

That is why I asked him for a bit of a time apart. I love him, but I hate the way he makes money for living. How can such a carrying and loving person do such a thing?

Carrying and loving? Ace had never heard someone referring to Roger as such. This must have been some other man, because it couldn’t be his biological father.

06.06.1997

It has been two months since I last saw Roger. I don’t think I can do this anymore. I miss him. I miss him so much - my heart, my soul, my being are crying for him. I want to be with him, despite everyone and everything. I love this man. I hope that he still loves me too.

17.11.1997

Life lately has been crazy. I even though I lost this diary.

God, I’m so in love. Life has never been better. I’ve never been more loved or carried about by someone as much as Roger does for me.

It is funny in a way. A man with such power in the criminal world to be capable of so much love. Sometimes it hurts me how some people portrait him as this bad, uncaring, sadistic person, yet he is not. Or at least not like this with the people he loves.

I’ve met most of his closest men. It’s funny how men who can break someone’s bones so easily are actually such sweethearts. There are two guys my age that work for him – Shanks and Buggy, they are like brothers. Both of them hilarious in their own way. Shanks is very cocky and low-key Roger’s favorite, while Buggy is a whole comedy show on his own.

Ace had to stop reading for a second. He knew that Shanks used to work for his father, but Buggy? Is that the same Buggy the Clow? (Y/N)’s dad. Thinking about it now and how you and Shanks are not actually blood related at all this made so much sense.

He didn’t know how to feel about this. The fact that your parents were connected somehow and years later you two met unexpectedly… the world was in fact very small.

Taking a deep breath in Ace shook his head and he continued to read his mother’s diary. There was so much to process even from only what he had read now.

Shanks tried to hit on me the first time he saw me, very sleek and cocky, but after he got a good slap on the head by Roger, he never dared to do it again.

Life is going on pretty fast now. If someone a year ago had told me that I would meet the love of my life I would have never believed them, but life has a funny way of showing us things that are meant for us. And Roger and I are meant for each other.

02.02.1998

We are getting married. I can’t believe it. Roger proposed to me. I’m over the moon. The man who I have been so in love with and love with all my heart and soul proposed to me.

I can’t wait for the day I will call him my husband, and he will call me his life. Gol D Rouge – it sounds so much nicer than Portgas D Rouge.

If it’s up to me, we’ll get married tomorrow. All I need is him and someone to marry us, but Roger wants to give me my dream wedding. How do I tell him that all my dreams start and end with him?

There was a polaroid picture attached to this page. Ace unattached it from the staple that was holding it and carefully observed it. Both Roger and his mother were on it, with Roger’s arms around Rouge, while she had hers around his neck and they both looked so happy… so in love. Their smiles were big; it was so clear that it was a real happiness that could be read in their eyes. Roger was dressed in a black suit while Rouge was wearing a white dress, almost as if they had gotten married, but they never got the chance to.

Putting the picture to the side, he turned the next page of the diary, and his brows raised with a bit of surprise. There was an ultrasound picture dated – 04.05.1998. His mom was in fact a big collector of memories.

10.05.1998

A week ago, I found out that I’m pregnant. I’m carrying mine and Roger’s child. Our first child.

I told Roger today. He cried. This big, scary man broke down crying when I told and showed him a picture of the ultrasound. Seeing him down on his knees, wrapping one arm around me and the other placed on my still flat belly made me realize something – I choose the best man and soon to be father for me and my child.

To our future dear baby – I don’t care about the gender, and does neither you dad, I want you to know one thing – you are wanted and very, very loved even before you are born to this world. - Love mommy and daddy xx

Ace reread the last paragraph again, and again, and again. He never knew that he was a wanted child, let alone a loved one by both of them, or at least his mom, after all this was her diary. He had heard from his aunt that Rouge was excited to become a mother, but now reading her own words… she really did want to be one. She did want him.

14.08.1998

My first trimester finished. My belly is still not showing much, actually not at all. I wonder if the baby has enough space in it.

I’m so happy. My precious baby is growing steady and healthy. I can’t wait to hold it in my arms already and so is Roger. Every night and morning he have a special routine with my belly – in the morning he sings to it and at nighttime he tells it bedtime stories or one of his many stupid jokes. The baby of course… wait why do I keep writing the baby? I’m sorry my love… You, of course, my precious child, still doesn’t response to us at all, but I’m looking forward to the day when you’ll start kicking me with your little sweet feet and let us know who sings better – me or your dad (I really pray you get my voice… your dad’s a lost cause).

A little laughter, almost like a giggle, left Ace’s voice. Her wish did come true. This was something that even Dadan had told him million times, that he got his mother’s talent when it came to singing.

Also, your dad is stuffing me with food. I’m not eating for two, I’m eating for at least four people. My biggest pregnancy craving so far is spicy food. I’m craving so much spicy food, and I think it comes from you little rascal of mine, you seem to like it a lot, but I’ll see if I’m right once you come into this world.

We still don’t know if you will be a boy or a girl, but both your dad and I think that you’ll be a boy. It’s a weird gut feeling, but we are like eighty percent sure that we’ll be right. But you can always prank us and turn out to be a girl. Nevertheless – it doesn’t matter. We love you to the moon and back already. - Mommy and daddy xx

Ace could feel his heart getting heavier and heavier. How could they have loved him already so much? And how was this the same man he had heard so many bad things described as such loving and carrying person? His dad… loved him? Roger… Roger so far didn’t sound bad or sadistic… he sounded very fun and nice, almost likable.

02.10.1998

You kicked for the first time ever today. It was in the morning, while your dad was singing to you. God, I wish I had a camera with me in that moment. Your kick was so precise and right in your dad’s face. I think you (and I) had enough of his awful singing.

Your dad and I will be finding your gender tomorrow. I’m so excited. We have already picked the names, or should I say your dad did: If you are a boy – Ace, after the band ‘Ace of Base’. Your dad and I had our first dance to their song ‘Lucky Love’ when we met for the first time ever. If you are a girl – Ann, after your dad’s mother, which I never got the chance to meet, but from what I know from you dad, she used to be a very lovely woman.

Ace pulled his phone immediately and searched for the song. He knew the band, but he had no idea he was named after them. He had no idea it was his father who picked his name.

While Ace was deep diving into his mother’s diary, Dadan pulled and lit a cigarette. Guilt was eating her alive. She should have given him this diary a long time ago. Maybe this would have been better for him, maybe then he would have less anger and sadness graved into his heart. But right now, all of this would be one big ‘What if…’

I can’t wait to know what I’ll be calling you from tomorrow. Your dad has been calling you Ace for some time now already; it’ll be funny if it turns out that he should have been calling you Ann this whole time.

Lots of love, - Mommy and daddy xx

03.10.1998

My Ace, my precious little Ace, my baby boy Ace.

We found out that you’ll be a boy today. We were right. I can’t wait to meet you baby. I can’t wait to hold you, and kiss you, and shower you with all the love I have in me. There won’t be another baby as loved as you will be my dear.

Now that I know that you’re a boy the strong kicks in my belly make even more sense. Part of me already sense that you’ll be as stubborn as me, but I do hope that you will take after many of your dad’s qualities as well – to be brave like him, strong, smart, carrying and so so many more.

We’ve already prepared ourselves to be the best mom and dad out there. Oh, Ace… I can’t wait to experience life with you. I can’t wait to see your first smile, hear your first giggle, see you taking your first steps… I can’t wait to meet you, my love.

Tears built up in the corner of his eyes and slowly started falling, something Ace hadn’t experienced for years. He didn’t remember the last time he cried, not even when he was watching (Y/N) leaving his apartment’s building that awful night three months ago; now they were falling one after another from his eyes and he couldn’t stop them.

He brought his fist to his lips and bit his knuckles as hard as he could to suppress the sobs threatening to escape his lips.

‘I can’t wait to experience life with you.’ These words stuck to him the most. This was beyond love. This was beyond everything. How much should you love someone to want to experience life with them?

Your dad and I spoke one night about how the perfect mixture of us would look like and I think we came to agreement – it doesn’t matter. Because you are already the perfect mixture of us and our love. - Love mommy and daddy xx

11.11.1998

To my Roger,

Today I had to see you getting buried six feet under the ground. Today a part of me got buried down there with you.

Life isn’t fair. Life isn’t fair to you, to me, and to our Ace.

Life wasn’t fair to you as it took you away so young. Life wasn’t fair because it took you five weeks before our Ace gets to be born. Life wasn’t fair to you because you would have to watch and protect Ace from above while you were meant to do it next to me.

Life isn’t fair to me. It took the man I’ve loved the most. The man that I’ll love forever. Life isn’t fair to me, because I can’t afford to grieve you the way I should, because I must make sure nothing will affect the health of our Ace.

Life isn’t fair to our son as well. He’ll never get the chance to meet you or know you, but Roger, I promise on my life, this child will know how amazing his father was and how much he loved and waited for him. I’ll make sure Ace knows how special he was for you, and he must be proud to be called your son.

I promise you that I will do anything and everything to protect him from this world. I promise you, Roger – Ace will grow to be a strong successful man. He is our child after all; he will make it.

The pain he was feeling in his chest spread through his whole body. His mother wasn’t able to keep any of the promises, but to bring him to this world, with the price of her life. And for what? For her son to turn into a failure? Good for nothing?

Life wasn’t fair to his parents; this was something Ace could really agree with. Mostly to his mom.

26.12.1998

Our son is a week late. I was supposed to give birth to him a week ago, but so far, he is quite stubborn and doesn’t want to get out. I think he is planning to wait until thirty first exactly, so you two can share a birthday. Not that I mind. I’m going to give him all the time he needs. When he feels like it’s his time to come into this world he’ll come.

Recently he has been kicking me like crazy in the morning. I think he misses your awful singing as much as I do… I miss it so much I started to pray that he can actually takes over your singing talent.

I can’t wait to hold him. Our Ace is the only thing left now which will remind me that I’ll have a part of you with me forever.

I love you, Roger. Always and forever.

This was the last page Rouge had written only five days before she would give birth to Ace and pass away.

His mind was a complete mess. They wanted him. They loved him. His parents were excited to have him. All he knew was this mom wanted him, he never knew how much she actually did and that she loved him so much. Not only this but his father… his father wasn’t so cruel as other people have portraited him to be. All his life Ace had heard how Roger took advantage of his mother, that he never loved her, he even heard that he had just used her once got her knocked up and never looked after her again, but the truth, the reality of it all was completely different.

Roger and Rouge were in love. Ace was made with love. He was wanted.

His heartbeat increased and he felt like his skin was burning hot, yet he was wearing only a T-shirt. With the increased pulse of his heart he felt like there wasn’t enough air to fill up his lungs. Cold sweat started to run down his forehead, grabbing his shirt with his fist he tried to take deep breaths as he could feel everything around him closing. The vision in front of him was blurry. He felt like everything around him was collapsing.

Dadan put her cigarette down and rose from her chair. What did he read to cause this reaction out from him? She had never seen Ace in such a state before. Scared, confused, fighting to breathe, all shaken up. What made him so emotional?

Walking next to him she grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. Ace’s head snaped towards her and in that moment, there in front of her wasn’t standing the big grown-up man he has become, no – in front of her was standing the little boy Ace. His eyes, red and still filled with tears, looked at her with so many questions in them. He looked so lost right now. Lost and scared.

“Try to breath kid.” Dadan told him as gently as she possibly could. Letting go of his shoulders she went to the sink and grabbed a glass, filling it with water. “Here drink.” She walked back to Ace, whose chest was still raising up and down like he had run a five kilometers marathon.

He couldn’t focus on what his aunt was telling him, but he still took the glass of water. With a shaking hand he lifted the glass to his lips and tried to calm his breathing a bit before he could take a sip.

Ace wasn’t sure how to feel right now. Finding out that you have always been wanted and loved by your own parents, even if they weren’t among the living people anymore, after twenty-six years would be a huge shock for anyone. Finding out that the man, who’s happened to be your father, was not the monster everyone portrayed him to be, was even bigger. Because now… now Ace couldn’t blame his father anymore for his heartless behavior.

Trying to calm his breath and collect his mind, Ace placed the glass on the table and got up on his feet. His aunt took a step back, giving him some space. Running his hands through his hair Ace closed his eyes before he spoke up. “Why?” The question came out as a whisper. Raw and painful whisper.

“What why, Ace?” Dadan took another step back.

“Why you never gave me this?” Taking his mother’s diary from the table Ace angrily waved it at his aunt’s face, shouting at her. “Why Dadan? Why?” His voice was cracking from anger, disappointment.

If a second ago he was consumed by fear and sadness, now Ace was seeing red. He felt like something that has always belonged to him has been kept away as a punishment. But punishment for what - for whom was his father or that he was born?

“Don’t dare to yell at me, brat.” Dadan screamed back at him. She would never let her be disrespected in her own house. “I never thought you care about your parents to begin with, let alone your father.” She answered more calmly. “Plus, I was afraid you might take after his bad criminal side.” Moving to the table she took her pack of cigarettes and pulled another one out, lighting it up. She took a long drag of the cigarette before she continued speaking. “You almost did, thought.”

“But I didn’t.” Ace’s voice roared so loudly it could have been heard even outside. Walking closer to Dadan he locked his eyes with her. He and her shared the same eye color, but now he was a bit darker than usual and full of rage and pain.

“All my life Dadan.” Slowly and quietly, he started speaking. “All my life, I felt guilty to be alive and I’ve always seen it in your eyes.” He pointed a finger at her. “You’ve always blamed me for my mother’s death. Always. After all these years I’ve always felt that you have some kind of resentment towards me, and don’t you?” She didn’t respond. Her face was like a stone. “If you’ve hated me this much why you didn’t give me to child services or something?”

“Because I’ve promised your mother.” And deep down she knew she had failed her promise. She always knew this, she just didn’t want to admit it.

“You promised her what exactly? And what exactly she made you promise?” Ace took a few steps back and waited for a response.

“That I’ll take care of you, brat.” Dadan said more harshly this time. She wasn’t the type of person who openly talked about things that would cause her pain. That was why she wanted this conversation between her and her nephew to be over. “Didn’t you get the answers you were looking for from that stupid diary?” She pointed with her hand at the pink diary in Ace’s hand.

“I did and now don’t know who or what to believe anymore.” Ace did get a few answers out of it, but now he had even more questions. “You’ve always said that Roger was a bad person and partner to my mother, but here-” He raised his hand holding the diary. “Here, with my mother’s words, he is a completely different person and far away from a bad partner.”

“Oh, Ace.” Dadan sighed. “I won’t believe everything your mother had written about this man. She was so blindly in love with this man, of course, she only saw the good in him.”

“So, there was good in him after all?” Ace walked to the table and rested the palms of his hands on it.

“Your mother was a young beautiful woman that Roger took advantage of it.” Dadan raised her voice a bit. “Like it or not Ace your father was a bad person.”

“You’ve said it yourself that you two never officially met. How do you know how good or bad of a person he was?”

“Are you defending him now?” His aunt raised one brow surprisingly.

Was Ace defending his father now? Maybe. As much as he didn’t like it, maybe after what he just read about him from his mother’s perspective had messed up with his opinion about his father and now, mostly because of Rouge, Ace felt like he had to defend his father in some way.

“Maybe, I am.” It was hard to say it out loud, but he did. “This doesn’t change the fact that you try to answer my questions with a question.” Sitting down opposite her, Ace tapped with his fingers on the table as he gestured to his aunt to start speaking. “Come on, Dadan. You’ve already messed me up years ago, believe me, nothing you say today, would make my live any more different than it already is.” A small sad smile was placed on his face.

The house got quiet. The only thing that could be heard was the warm spring wind coming from the opened window in the kitchen and the clicking of the clock on the wall. The curly ginger haired woman didn’t know what to say. She felt ashamed. She had felt like this many, many times before. Mostly because she knew she failed her promise. But today she realized how much she did actually fail.

Clearing her throat she finally spoke up. “You’re right Ace. I don’t know how much your father was a bad or a good person, but I never liked him. My sister, your mother, she was a woman with so much potential. She could have actually gotten out of this bad area of town, she could have gotten a very good job and had a very stable family, but sadly she met your father. And yes… she did love him. She did love him very much.” Saying this out loud, Dadan remembered one of the few times her little sister shared with her some of the things Roger had done for her. Her eyes were glowing every time she would mention his name. She would keep every flower he gave her even after it was dead. She would always say how Roger was the love of her life. Her soulmate. “From what she would tell me about him from time to time… yes, it did sound like he loved her as well.”

Ace was listening carefully. Dadan had never opened up to him or anyone to begin with. She was like an emotionally disabled person, there was barely any emotion she would show, and if they were any it was usually anger or disappointment, at least towards him. Sabo and Luffy received some love from her in one way or another.

“Before she died in the hospital bed…” Dadan needed a moment before she could continue to speak. Till this day, the thought of her sister’s last minutes before she passed away hunted her like a never-ending nightmare. “She called for me and I went inside her room. You were wrapped in her arms, and she was gently creasing your face while you slept. She called me in her room because she wasn’t feeling good. Then… then…” Tears started to build up as she remembered more and more the words her sister told her. “Then she looked at me and I could see tears in her eyes, but they weren’t tears of sadness, Ace… she was crying from happiness, even though she was in pain and not feeling good… she… she held you up a-and s-said…” Dadan’s voice cracked as tears were falling down like waterfalls from her eyes. “She said – ‘Look at him, Dadan. Isn’t he perfect?’” She buried her face in the palms of her hands as sobs started to escape her lips.

Ace didn’t say anything, nor did he try to calm his aunt down. He was just listening carefully and trying to assimilate what he had heard. And what he had heard broke his heart but also brought him a bit of peace. His mother had held him. He always thought that she had died immediately after his birth, but this wasn’t true. She got to spend some time with him. He got to spend some time with her, even if he couldn’t remember it, he had been held and loved by his mother even if it was for just a moment. He got the chance to be loved by her.

Wiping her tears away and trying to collect herself, Dadan cleared her throat and continued. “And you were Ace. You were perfect. You were innocent… a-and still are, when it comes to your mom’s death. I’m sorry if I ever said or made you feel like you were at fault for this. It wasn’t your fault. It was the doctors.”

Ace couldn’t believe what he was hearing. All these years he thought and was told that it was his fault. But it never was.

“She died from internal bleeding. But before she did, and they took her for emergency operation she made me promise that I’ll take care of you… and love you as my own child, like you were my own son… b-but I… I-I c-could never do this…” Her heart was breaking. She never took the role of his mother fully, because she never could. “I couldn’t do it, because you were their child. You were… you are her child, and the thought that I should take her place as your rightful mother never sat right with me, because… because no one could have been better mother to you than Rouge.” Ace didn’t say anything, he just let his aunt continue to speak. “I always saw myself as your aunt and never as your parent and now I realize how wrong I was for not at least try to be the mother you needed.”

Neither of them dared to say something. Tears were streaming down their faces. Both hurt by the same fate, but in different ways.

Ace wasn’t moving at all. He just let the tears fall. His mind was a mess, his heart was hurting, and his body was paralyzed. Seeing him in such a state broke Dadan’s heart. The realization of how much she had hurt this child, her child, her own and only living blood made her stand up and for the first time ever, in years, she went and hugged him. She hugged him in a strong hold and kissed the top of his head.

“I’m sorry, Ace. I’m so sorry for all the damage I’ve done to you.” She whispered to him. “You’re a great child and a young man. Your parents would have been proud of you.” She could feel the way his body was shaking and hear how he was trying to hold his sobs. “I’m proud of you son.”

Hearing this, Ace finally wrapped his arms around his aunt and let himself cry, without suppressing his voice. He let himself being vulnerable, something he never had done before.

It had been four days since me and Usopp have been editing. We had seven hours of material, of which so much could be used, but we decided to not make the movie longer than twenty minutes.

Looking at the time my eyes widen. “Oh my, we’ve been editing for eight hours.”

“What time is it?” Usopp turned to look at me as surprised as I was.

“It’s already six thirty.” And we were nowhere close to being done, we would need at least five more days or more. Taking a glance at Usopp, I clapped with my hands to catch his attention, as he had turned back to the computer’s screen to fix something in the editing program again. “I think we can call it the day.”

“Yea, we should probably do this.” Saving the progress we had made so far with the movie, Usopp closed the editing program and then turned off the computer. “Do you want me to give you a ride?” As much as his offer sounded very nice, I decided that it was best to turn it down. “You sure? I don’t mind.”

“Uh, Usopp, you’re a sweetheart. Kaya is a lucky girl.” I said to him with a smile as we made our way out. “But yes, I’m sure.”

Before we part ways and say goodbye, I asked him what time we should meet tomorrow only for him to remind me that tomorrow we must speak with the second-year students for our internship with them and which groups we would like to join. Something that totally had left my mind.

“Have you chosen a group already?” I was hoping he would say ‘no’, because working with a certain someone from the second year would be quite awkward for me.

“No, I’m still debating which movie to choose. Dave’s one is supper cool, is more of a modern sci-fi vibe, so maybe I’ll chose his group.”

“Oh, is he directing?” I was surprised to hear this. Knowing Dave and what he wanted to do with filmmaking, directing wasn’t his main goal.

“Apparently. He’s very excited about it.” Usopp turned to pull me in a hug as we reached the exit, and we were to go on our separate ways. “I doubt you would choose his, but it’ll be a very nice movie, think about your CV.”

Looking away awkwardly I just nodded. “Yes, sure. Well, we’ll text then. Bye, Usopp.”

Making my way to the metro satiation, I pulled out my headphones to listen to some music, but I have run out of battery for them. I took this as an opportunity to observe the outside world and also to see if someone was following me.

This weird feeling that I was being followed hasn’t left me for weeks. The only time I didn’t feel followed was when I went away for a week, but since I came back the feeling did as well.

Two stops before mine, two girls entered the metro, no older than sixteen. They were holding hands and singing while one of them had her phone up in the air. I couldn’t recognize the song at first nor heard it as they were wearing airpods, but the lyrics sounded familiar. Like I have heard this song before somewhere.

“Uhh, this is my favorite part.” One of the girls said as she continued to sing.

I tried to write your name in the rain, But the rain never came

As they sat in front of me and continued to sing, it immediately clicked to me where I recognized this song from… it was his song, to which I mentally rolled my eyes.

And if you were my little girl I'd do whatever I could do I'd run away and hide with you I know that you got daddy issues

This song was everywhere and as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t escape it. It was played so played and streamed, to a point where I personally think it was overplayed.

“Ace please, I can be your little girl.” One of them said while the other giggled. I couldn’t help but side-eyed the girl by the comment she made. Was she aware that she was a minor?

“Shut up, he is mine. I can cure his daddy issues.” Her friend replied and they started to mess with each other.

“Well, him and Law can cure mine for sure.” The first girl playfully licked her lips and they erupted laughing.

I couldn’t suppress the annoyed chuckle that left my lips. The two teenaged girls noticed it and gave me a weird look, which I chose to ignore.

Luckily, my stop finally came, and I left the metro. If I had to listen to one more dirty comment about Ace or any other of the guys, I was going to shoot myself on the spot. I doubted that they would still think the same if they knew how Ace treated the girls he was interested in. It was all fun and games until he decided that it was boring to play.

God, how I hated thinking of this man. I hated how much effect he still had on me despite all the things that had happened between us. Since I told Nami about what happened, my thoughts have gone back occasionally to him and the night of Sanji’s party.

Did he really get jealous when he saw me with Kid, and why would he? He was the one who didn’t want to have anything to do with me in the first place, and now he saw me with another man and immediately decided that he wants me back or something? And this whole ‘Let’s start all over again’ bullshit pissed me off so much. ‘Don’t forgive me just give me a chance.’ – did he think I was this brainless and so easily manipulated? I would neither forgive nor forget, because he didn’t deserve either of these.

Being caught up in my thoughts I finally approached my street and the building I lived in. My whole mood had changed. I was so pissed, and it was again because I allowed myself to think about him.

Not paying attention to my surroundings, I bumped into someone as I was searching for my keys at the bottom of my bag, I said sorry without even looking at them, but then they called me by my name, and this made me freeze on the spot. This voice. This painfully familiar voice which I hated from the bottom of my heart. What was she doing here? Swallowing hard I took a deep breath and continued to search for my keys in my bag. My name got called again. I felt the keys at the bottom of my bag and pulled them out.

“Please, (Y/N), wait.” Her voice has always been soft and a bit raw, I guess it was from all the crack she had smoked over the years. She came closer to me as I was opening the door, still ignoring her. “I just want to speak with you.”

Reaching with her hand to stop me from entering the building I snapped and finally turned around when I felt her hand touching my shoulder. “Don’t you ever dare touching me.” I felt the unpleasant feeling of disgust and anger taking over me. “What are you doing here?” So far in my life only two people have mastered how to make my blood boil, one less than the other but still -Ace and my mother.

I haven’t seen her in years. Last time she tried to reach out for me was almost two years ago and it was on the phone, so I cut her fast by blocking her number. Then I didn’t speak with my father for a month because he had given it to her, and he knew how much I despised this woman.

But seeing her in person was a surreal feeling, something that hasn’t happened since I was five years old, yet I could still recognize her face. Despite all the drugs she has taken over the years I would be lying if I say that she was ugly. The substance abuse had made her age a bit faster and added an unhealthy look to her, but still the same face I had seen in the pictures my dad had kept over the years.

I have always hated how much I looked like her but seeing her after all these years twisted my stomach in a very unpleasant way.

“I’ve wanted to see you and speak with you.” She took a small step back. The look of fear and guilt written all over her eyes, same color as mine. “Your dad gave me your address and…” She cleared her throat. “And I’ve been here for some time now, trying to approach you as-”

Cutting her off and not letting her finish her sentence I raised my voice at her as I let go of the front door and closed it angrily. “Were you following me around?” Looking down at the ground she slowly nodded. “I knew I wasn’t crazy.” I murmured under my breath.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t want to scare you.” The way her voice trembled with fear made me give her a questioning look. “I-I just want to speak with you, please just one conversation, I beg you.”

What was with people and wanting to talk with me recently? Since when have I become such an important person to people who have hurt me and now want to become part of my life again?

Without saying anything I looked away. The street wasn’t busy, there were barely any people passing by. The wind was blowing softly as the sun was slowly starting to go down. It was just me and her at the top of the staircase leading to the entrance of the building.

Looking back at her, with zero emotions on my face, in an even, unbothered tone I spoke to her. “What you want or beg for, you won’t get from me, because I don’t care. Now go away as I don’t want to see you ever again.” Turning to open the entrance door once again, I stopped because she called me by my childhood nickname, the one given to me and used only by her. This made me snap. “Don’t you ever call me this ever again.”

I never knew that my voice could be this loud. I also never knew how much exactly the pain and the anger I carried towards her were, until a quite vivid memory of the last days I got to spend with her played in my mind the second she called me by it.

It was a day like today. Sunny and warm but still windy. We went on a walk while my dad was at work. She asked me if I wanted an ice cream and to go to the park. I was almost five, of course I wanted ice cream and to go to the park, so we quickly made our way there. I remembered the way she gently held my hand and slightly swung it back and forth while I was happily skipping right next to her. When we finally reached the park and the ice cream shop she let go of my hand and let me run to the ice cream truck.

“Mommy, come.” I called out for her. With my tongue sticking out, I got on my tiptoes to look at the ice creams at display. “Mommy, mommy, fast.” Clapping with my hands excitedly I start jumping on one spot.

She finally came and picked me up in her arms. “Have you chosen already?” Her voice was so soft and caring as she caressed my little face. Nodding eagerly, I pointed at the ice cream I wanted. “But, honey, you won’t like this flavor.”

“Please, mama.” I grabbed her face with both hands and gave her puppy eyes.

Sighing she shook her head with a smile, before giving me a kiss on the forehead and buying the flavor I wanted and one more ice cream for her. Putting me on the ground so she could take them I bounced excitedly on my feet, reaching with my hands for the ice cream.

“Let’s go to the bench over there and I’ll give you the ice cream.” Pointing at the bench next to the playground I didn’t waste any time and ran off to it.

I sat on the bench and patiently, as much as one four, almost five years old child could be. Sitting next to me she handed me the ice cream with one little spoon. “Thank you, mommy.” I gave her one big toothy grin before digging the small spoon into it.

The moment I tasted the ice cream I turned to face her with a grimace. She started laughing at me and the faces I was making. Calling me by the nickname she always used for me, she took the ice cream from my hands. “What did I tell you?” There was nothing that sounded like scolding in her voice or looking like she was pissed. She was just gentle and caring. “Here, take mine.”

I took the ice cream she handed me, and my eyes shifted between her and the cold sweet treat. “But mama… this is yours.” I handed it back to her, but she shook her head.

“It’s yours.”

“Thank you, mommy.” I made a kissy face which made her lean closer to me so I could kiss her cheek. “You’re the best mama in the world.”

I never saw her after that day, nor did she try to contact me until I was twenty. Now she stood in front of me, having the audacity to call me by the nickname that I hate from the bottom of my heart, and wanted to have a conversation with me.

“Do you really think that I want to see you or speak with you after you didn’t bother to acknowledge my existence in the past seventeen years?” Taking a step closer to her made her move a step back from me.

“I was going through something.” She quietly said. Did I hear her correctly? She was going through something?

Raising my brows as I couldn’t believe what she had just said to me, and I chuckled. “You’re joking, right? You can’t be seriously telling me this?”

Shaking her head, she pulled a strand of her hair behind her ear, and I noticed the way her hands were shaking as she started to play with it. “I-I was in a v-very dark place.” Swallowing hard she looked at me with fear. “B-but you n-never left my mind. I was t-thinking about you all the time.”

A makeshift of mocking laughter left my lips. “Was this during smoking crack or sniffing something?” She turned her head to the side and her whole face scrunched as I continued. “Or was it during some psychotic episode?”

Wrapping one of her arms around herself she slouched her posture a bit. “I-I’m clean now.”

“Sorry, what was that?” Bringing my hand to my ear I pretended like I didn’t hear her. “Did you say you’re clean?” I faked excitement in my voice. “Oh my Gosh, congratulation. For how long two, three days? And what now, you wanna play mother and daughter?” Clapping my hands mockingly I waited for her response. I bet she fooled my father that she was clean, but she couldn’t fool me.

“Please, stop acting like this.” A soft painful cry left her lips.

Placing my hand on my chest I gave her a pitiful look. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I just happened to grow up without mother, so I lack a lot of manners.”

I was blinded by my anger. I didn’t know how much of it I had been holding for her until I saw her standing in front of me. All these years when I desperately needed a mother she wasn’t there and now it was too late. The person who brought me to this world was the first person ever to abandon me and for which I would never forgive her.

“For which I’ll never forgive myself, but p-please g-give me a chance for just o-one conversation.” She pleaded once again.

Slowly I shook my head. “No.” This time there was no mocking or laughing. “That night you left you made the conscious choice of abandoning me. I grew up without you. When I needed a mother, you weren’t there.” Tears started to fall from her eyes. “Instead, you were out there, who knows doing what.” I couldn’t hide the disgust in my voice. “You chose drugs over your family. Over your daughter.” She tried to say something, but I didn’t let her. “No, you wanted to speak with me, right? Here I am. Speaking to you.”

There were so many things I wanted to tell her. So many things I wanted to ask her as – ‘Why did you leave?’ Was I such a bad child that she had to just… leave? She didn’t even bother taking her stuff, we just woke up one day and she was gone. The first time she tried to contact us again was eleven years after. For whatever reason my father did keep in contact with her after that. I never understood why till this day he was so keen on her, but I didn’t really want to know the answer to this as I was sure I would not like it.

None of this matter now. As much as I had a lot to say to her, I also didn’t want to say anything. But I was hurt, and I needed to let her know, let her feel my internal pain from all these years, because this was the first and last conversation she was to have with me.

“I don’t care if you’re going to forgive yourself or not, because I never will.” Hearing this she pressed her hand to her lips to suppress the sobs coming from her. “I don’t care if you are clean or not, because I doubt that you’ll last long without your precious crack.” I couldn’t help but give her a disgusting look. “All these years I kept asking myself why – why did my mother left me? Was I such a bad child?”

Looking at her directly in her redden eyes I wanted to make sure that she would listen and understand what I was about to say next. “But there was no answer to these questions, until one day it hit me. I was never the problem; you were just one disgusting excuse of a mother and the worst thing that I got to carry within myself is the fact that I share the same blood with a piece of shit like you.”

My words were cutting deep into all the wounds she had but I wasn’t planning to stop nor to apologies about it. “Why you want to speak with me or see me doesn’t matter. You can go back to your biggest love in this world also know as crack and make sure to have fun and live without worry in this world as you have done so far. Be-”

“Stop, just stop talking.” Her scream interrupted me. “None of this is true, I had to go away because otherwise I was gonna end my life, would you have preferred this?” She then moved a few steps closer to me until she was standing just millimeters away from my face. “Would you have preferred to have a dead mother more than one that was not present in your life?”

“Yes, yes I would!” I screamed back at her. “Did you really think that abandoning me was the better solution? Do you even hear yourself? Actually, don’t answer this, all the shit you have smoked and taken has obviously fried your brain.” I couldn’t control myself as I pushed her away from me with one hand as she got way to close to me.

“Don’t you dare pushing me, I’m your mother.” She yelled at me and slapped my hand away.

“You’re not my mother.” I yelled back. She was pushing all my buttons at the same time. How could she call herself a mother? Giving birth and being a mother were two different things, apparently, she wasn’t aware of it. “For God sake, you left. You left and never came back and now is too late, and I don’t want to see you.”

“But here I am standing in front of you and asking for a chance to be your mom.” Her yell got mixed with desperate cry.

“I don’t need a mother. When I did you wasn’t here and now is too late, so go away before I call the police.” I turned around and inserted the keys to unlock the entrance door.

“So, you want to tell me that if I go and die tonight you won’t care?” She said behind me with a trembling voice.

Without looking at her, I clenched my fists and jaw hard as I tried to remain as calm as I could possibly be. “You’ve been dead to me for quite some time now… so it won’t make any difference.” Without waiting for a response, I shut the door after me and made my way to my apartment.

I was shaking by the time I reached it and entered it. Closing the door behind me I leaned my back on it and slowly fell down to the ground. All the anger and hatred and pain shifted into uncontrollable sobs. In between them I was gasping for air as everything around me seemed to suffocate me.

With shaky hands I reached out and pulled my phone, dialing my father’s number. It didn’t take long before he answered. “How could you?” I cried on the phone.

“Baby girl? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?” The tone of his voice changed immediately. “Are you hurt? What happened?”

“D-don’t act like y-you don’t know.” Gasping for air once again before I responded I tried my best to calm myself, but I couldn’t. “H-how c-could you give h-her my a-address.” I wasn’t asking, I was shaming him. I wanted him to feel bad, to feel guilty. “You… you know I d-don’t want to have o-or do a-anything with her. I don’t want to be associated with this person, how could you let her know where I live?”

I have never felt more betrayed in my life than I was right now. The thing that hurt the most was the fact that it was my dad of all the people who did it. He knew how much it took me to accept the fact that she left us, he knew how much I closed myself for the outside world when she abandoned us and how hard it was for me to slowly start opening again. Seeing her today, after all these years, made me feel like all this progress over the years flew out the window.

My dad stayed quiet for some time, listening to my gaps for air, not knowing what to say first. Finally, I heard him exhaling heavily before speaking up. “I’m sorry, baby girl… but she is your mom, and I couldn’t keep her away from you.”

“You couldn’t keep her away from me even after you know how much this would affect me?” My heart was breaking. Of all people, I never expected this from my father. He was always my safety place, but now all I could feel for him was like he was my worst enemy.

“She is clean, and she wants a chance to show you she loves you.” He tried to defend her, which only added to my pain. Did he forget what we had been though because of her absence? “Please, give her a chance. I know that you don’t really know her, but baby girl… you mother is not a bad person.”

“My mother abandoned me, dad!” I screamed onto the phone. “She left me. Do you hear me? She left! She made the choice to leave while I needed her the most! How could you defend her after all the damage she had done to me? To us?”

My throat hurt from all the screaming. I could feel my voice slowly dropping an octave every time I screamed and tried to make my father understand me. “How could you defend the woman who abandoned you and your child?” I whispered as tears continued to fall on my face.

“I’m sorry, baby girl.” He quietly said. “Please, take some deep breaths and calm down.” His pointless attempts to calm me down were only adding to the fuel.

“I don’t want to calm down.” I yelled with whatever voice I had left. “I want to know why you betrayed me like this. You of all people. I thought you love me and never would allow anything to harm me, yet you sent the person who had hurt me the most straight to my home. How could you, how?”

The anger was somehow gone and replaced by the pain in my chest. This hurt way more than when Ace pushed me away three months ago, and I thought back then that nothing would ever hurt more but was I wrong.

“I didn’t mean for this to happen baby girl.” I could hear the guilt in his voice. “But… I thought that maybe if you meet her, you’ll find it within your heart to forgive her. I-I thought that even if it might be late, you two could try and fix your relationship.”

“Dad, do you hear yourself? What relationship?” It wasn’t like me and her fought two weeks ago and now we should make it up and forgive each other, no. I never fought with her until today, because I never got the chance to grow up with her. She abandoned me before I was even five years old; there was no relationship between me and her at all. It never existed and it would never.

“Baby girl, I know, but you must understand me and the position I’m in as well.” He whined from the other side of the line.

“What position, dad? What must I understand? The fact that you get so easily manipulated by a woman who left you seventeen years ago, is this what am I supposed to understand?” I really couldn’t understand him, neither did I want to.

“Don’t be so harsh (Y/N)!” He scolded me with a harsh tone which left me surprised. He had never really done this, why was he so defensive over her.

“Why are you so defensive for her but not me?”

“Because you’re acting like a child right now, and I wasn’t expecting this from you.” His tone continued to be a bit harsh. “Your mother is clean, and she is very scared and lost, but she is also trying to do the right thing by fixing things with you, but you as always have to make things complicated as you are sometimes so stubborn.”

I didn’t respond to this, I just cut him off by ending the conversation. He chose her over me. He chose her wants and needs over my own. He broke all the trust I had for him, and I would never be able to forgive him for this.

My phone started to vibrate. My dad was calling, but I ignored it. I just stared at the empty space, not really focused on anything, just staring. My mind was a mess, thought after thought running through it. I felt so alone, so lonely. I had no one to call who would understand me, or at least I couldn’t call him. I found it both scary and hilarious that even in a moment like this one, the only person who I could think of giving me some kind of comfort happened to be the one who had also broken my heart a few months ago.

I recently read somewhere – ‘The irony of pain is that you want to be comforted by who hurt you.’ I got the meaning when I read it, but I didn’t really understand it. Not until now. But it didn’t matter. I guess I was meant to be a loner. Maybe I was one of those people who deal with sadness and pain all by themselves. Maybe at the end of the day I was a bad person, because good people have a shoulder to cry on, didn’t they?

What my father said before I ended the phone call might be right. I was quite stubborn and harsh sometimes, maybe I was in fact the problem. Maybe my mother and I could have been able to fix things between us, but now we would never know.

Now I would never know, because the next morning I woke up my phone was spammed with messages and calls from my dad. Swallowing the pain and the betrayal I called him back, and part of me wished that I didn’t. My mother was dead.

I had killed my own mother. Not literally, but I did feel like her death was on me. It was my words who made her relapse. It was my actions towards her yesterday that made her overdose later that night. It was me who told her that it didn’t matter if she was alive or not as she was already death to me. It was her blood on my hands. It was her death that it would be on top of my shoulders, carrying it on my back as a cross and reminder that I am in fact a bad person. And bad people don’t make it far in life.

END NOTE: This chapter was supposed to be way, waaayyyy longer, but I decided mid-way editing that it was better to leave it like this as I realized that I wrote such a beautiful parallel between Ace and Reader and this should be the main focus for this chapter. I want to say that this moment between Reader and her mother was meant to happened and it was in my mind probably since chapter three of the story. I understand if you all hate me for the last part of the story and if you find it a bit too harsh, believe me I did try to actually made it as "soft" as I possibly can so I don't trigger someone with some trauma or something. BUT this is how I see the story going and this is how I plan to deliver it. I don't like flat character and I don't plan to write about such. Both Reader and Ace are complicated and this is what makes them perfect for each other, but there is still time for their relationship to develop more. While Ace somehow "improved" the relationship with his family and read how wanted and loved he always had been, our girl Reader went in complete spiral with her parents and how they hurt her growing up and also feeling betrayed by her father mostly. One of them got their heart a bit fix while the other got another heartbreak to add to their record. As always I will appreciate any feedback and reflections by you guys by either commenting or messaging me. I love hearing your thoughts on how the story goes and what you liked or didn't. ♡ Thank you for reading it ♡♡♡

✰ taglist ✰ @orange-milky @neospade @bluetokie @glaciuswduo @izoswifey @l-l-light @kanekisheart @gojossixtheyes @lilink @kitsunechan707 @kattywhomper

♡ comment or message me if you want to be included in the taglist ♡

writing, format & dividers © cinnamoonblue fanart @a_phu14 on IG ©cinnamoonblue, do not copy or plagiarise my work.

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howiswhatawhy · 2 days ago

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WYD Now? - Bucky Barnes x reader

Pairing: childhood bestfriend! Bucky x singer! reader

A/N: I love him so much your honor. Literally can't stop writing for him. This is based on WYD Now? by Sadie Jean. It's such a beautiful song, I couldn't stop listening to it ever since I rediscovered my Bucky playlist. I put more thoughts into this than the last fic and I hope you like it<3

Playlist in question: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5A4PA2qyqdiJJibwfeaojl?si=236b0a08fd0f4670

Summary: You think you see Bucky watching your show after years of no contact. It's probably just your imagination, so why can't you shake off this ache in your chest? Word Count: 2.9k Warnings: fuckboy bucky, whole lotta angst + much more longing, childhood bestfriends to strangers to lovers. not proofread (again)

I saw you in the back of my show last night

Standing underneath the exit sign

I know it wasn't really you though

'Cause you were always in the front row

The stage light shines almost blindingly. You’re used to it now, though. There was a time when it was overwhelming, almost daunting, to be in the eyes of so many people. Back then, Bucky was your rock. The anchor that kept you grounded. The calm in a world full of storms.

But now, the thrill excites you, the heat of the spotlight feels like home. You’re not sure which you crave more, the rapt attention of a thousand strangers or the careful, loving gaze of just one person. Your person. Bucky. But if you just let yourself really listen to your heart, you’re almost sure you’d choose the latter.

Almost.

Your gaze drifts beyond the crowd, past the stage lights and into the shadows at the edge of the room. That’s when you see him. Leaning against the wall beneath the dull red glow of the exit sign, arms crossed, eyes on you like he never left. Like he never broke you.

And then, he’s gone.

You’re probably just imagining it. Bucky wouldn’t be here, he had better things to do than to haunt your show like a ghost. There was a time where Bucky would be at every front row seat of your shows. Granted, the venues were small, maybe three rows total, but he was there. Always.

You don’t really know what happened. It doesn’t matter anyways. How could anything matter that much—enough to cost you him? But what’s done is done. There’s no taking it back. No turning back the time.

So now, you focus on the moment. Focus on performing. Because that’s what you do best. Perform. In front of thousands of eyes. In front of no one. In front of the mirror. You perform. Pretending to be okay.

——

And I've been looking for love online

And maybe some of them are real good guys

They're never gonna be like you though

You set the bar above the moon so

It’s not like men are all bad. It’s just that they’re worse, comparatively, when your bar was set by Bucky Barnes. And you did try to find love. Tried to move on. Tried everything just to feel something. But nothing you did ever came close. Close to the way he made you feel when he held you when you thought the world was against you. Close to the way he made you feel when he accidentally brushed his hands against yours, and it felt like lightning had just struck you both. Close to the way he made you feel just by looking at you, like you’re the only damn person in this Earth. And to him, that was true. It is true. At the very least, you’re the only person that ever mattered to him. You were his world. His safe place.

But none of it matters now.

Because even as you stand here, surrounded by the lights and the crowd, that feeling is gone. All that’s left is the echo of it. A memory of what once was, and the ache of never finding it again.

You try to move on, to pretend you don’t still hear his voice in your head, whispering that you’re not alone, that everything will be okay. But the truth is, no one has ever made you feel the way he did.

No one ever will.

——

Now that you finally got the job you like

I'm making money off the songs I write

I know you said that I could call you

I wonder if you wanna call too

Someone said he was doing well. That he finally got into that company he wanted and he finally escaped the hellhole. You heard it through a friend of a friend, like a whisper in the wind. You wonder if he’s really happy. You hope he is. You really really do.

You’re doing alright too. In a way better place than you were before. Sometimes it all feels like a dream, a mixture of your worst nightmare and the version of your life you used to write about in your journal when you were fifteen. He said you could call. You remember the way he looked at you that night — tired, unsure, but still trying. “You know, whatever happens… you could always call me, right?” You nodded back then. Maybe even believed it. But people say a lot of things they don't mean. Still, some nights your fingers hover over his name. Just in case. Just in case he meant it. Just in case he still would pick up.

——

Now that the future doesn't feel so far

It doesn't seem as wrong to want what's ours

And after everything that's happened

I wanna put it in the past tense

People grow. They grow and they change and nothing is ever constant. You knew that. You knew that better than anyone else. Even if sometimes you felt like you might forget about it, the constant ache—the ache your father left when he walked out the door—never truly let you. It sat there, quiet but insistent, like a low hum beneath every laugh, every moment of joy, every silence.

That didn’t stop the teenage you from hoping, though. It didn’t stop you from looking at Bucky like he was the exception to every rule, like maybe he’d be the one to stay. You held onto that hope with both hands, white-knuckled and desperate, because something about him made you believe in forever, even when you knew better.

You and Bucky stopped being friends three years ago. Though if we’re being honest, you and Bucky stopped being friends long before that. Not if you count the longing you carried like a secret, folded tight in the corners of your heart. Friends don’t look at each other that way.

And he looked at you too. God, he did. In the way his gaze lingered when you talked, in the way he remembered things you said in passing like they meant everything. But Bucky Barnes was a walking contradiction. He flirted with everyone, kissed girls at parties like it didn’t mean anything, and smiled at you like you were the one exception. You never knew if you were special or just stupid.

And you were both too proud—too scared—to ask.

The night everything fell apart, it wasn’t a fight so much as a slow, sharp unraveling. You watched him leave that party with someone else. Again. And for once, you didn’t pretend it didn’t hurt. You didn’t smile through it or wait up or brush it off when he stumbled back into your life a week later with a half-assed apology and tired eyes.

You didn’t say anything at all.

Then, something shifted. You stopped answering his texts right away. Stopped showing up to places just because you thought he might be there. You started saying no when he called late at night, asking if you were up, like he hadn’t just spent the evening with someone else. You weren’t cruel, you never could be, not with him, but you were distant. Careful. Like someone learning not to touch fire, even if it still called to you.

Bucky noticed. Of course he did. You saw it in the crease between his brows when you laughed a little too loudly at someone else’s joke, felt it in the way he started watching you from across the room like maybe you were slipping out of his reach. And you were.

He tried, in his own way.

Cornered you in the kitchen at Sam’s birthday party, leaning against the counter like it wasn’t taking everything in you not to look at him. Like he hadn’t been circling you all night, waiting for a moment when you weren’t surrounded by other people. Other distractions.

“Did I do something wrong, baby?” he asked, soft and unsure in a way that didn’t match his usual confidence.

Baby.

There’s that word again. Your heart stuttered, traitor that it was.

But you didn’t show it. Just shrugged, cool and quiet, like the sound of that word didn’t carve straight through you.

He called everyone that. Baby. Sweetheart. Doll. It didn’t mean anything. At least, that’s what you told yourself. That’s what you clung to when your throat got tight and you couldn’t quite meet his eyes.

“No,” you said finally, voice calm. Distant. “You didn’t do anything.”

But your chest ached with everything you didn’t say.

You wanted to scream yes. Yes, you did. You made me feel like I mattered and then reminded me I didn’t. You made me believe in something, and then left me to carry it alone. But instead, you stayed quiet. Because if you said any of it out loud, you weren’t sure you’d survive hearing his answer.

He stood there a moment longer, waiting. Watching. Maybe hoping.

Then he nodded, pushed off the counter with a quiet sigh, and left you there with your silence.

And eventually… he stopped trying.

But some things don’t end just because you stop talking.

The wanting never really left you. It dulled, maybe. It muted itself into something quieter, more manageable. Something you could pack away between polite smiles and half-meant goodbyes. But it never died.

Because every time you hear his name, your heart still flinches. Every time someone mentions him in passing, you feel your pulse skip like it used to. You still remember the sound of his laugh, the shape of his mouth around your name, the way it used to feel like you were the only two people in the world.

And you’re tired. Tired of feeling like nothing could ever compare. Tired of longing for the ghost of him. No, not the ghost of him. Tired of longing for him. The real him. You’re tired of pretending it was only ever a phase. A crush. A moment you’ve outgrown.

It’s been 3 years of missing him and many more years of longing for him. So you decided you had enough of it. You tried getting rid of the wanting, but it didn’t work. You tried distracting yourself, that only made you miss him more. You tried being mad, really mad. Told yourself he didn’t deserve that kind of space in your chest. That if he wanted you, he would’ve said something. Done something. Chosen you. And that just left you feeling unwanted.

But there’s one thing you haven’t tried: talking to him.

So you do.

You don’t think. Don’t overanalyze or rehearse a speech in your head. You just pick up your phone and press his name before you can talk yourself out of it. Before fear and pride and all the years between you can pull you back under.

It rings.

Once.

Twice.

“Hello?”

Fuck. dontcrydontcrydontcrydontcry.

“Doll, you okay?”

And you just sob.

——

‘Cause I don’t wanna be 20-something

And still in my head about

17 in my bedroom talking

It took Bucky exactly 9 minutes to get to your place. You didn’t even tell him where you were. Didn’t need to. The moment he heard your sob, he didn’t hesitate.

“I’m on my way. Stay on the phone with me, okay?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t, not with the lump in your throat and the way everything you had been holding in was spilling out. But you stayed on the line, the sound of your shaky breaths mixing with his muffled voice on the other side.

You barely remember the time passing. You only know the next thing you hear is the sound of your doorbell ringing—quick, urgent.

Bucky.

You rush to the door, barely pulling it open before he’s already there, eyes wide with concern. His face is soft, but there’s something tense in the way he looks at you.

This brings you back to when you were 17. Crying in your room over something small that happened. Bucky would hold you and wipe your tears away. Then he would try to talk about everything and nothing at the same time, to get you out of your head. And it worked. Every problem felt small when you have your Bucky Barnes next to you.

But you’re not 17 anymore. And it’s hard for Bucky to comfort you when he’s the reason for your broken heart at the first place.

“Tell me what’s on your pretty mind, sweetheart,” Bucky tries.

He says it like it’s still easy. Like no time has passed. Like you haven’t spent the last three years trying to forget the way his voice used to sound wrapped around your name.

You blink at him, eyes glassy, heart pounding so loud you swear it fills the whole room. You want to yell at him. Kiss him. Tell him to leave. Beg him to stay. You want to do everything and nothing at the same time.

“You,” you whisper. It’s all you can manage at first. “You’re what’s on my mind.”

His face shifts. Like the words punch the air out of his lungs.

“All the time,” you add, voice breaking. “You’ve been on my mind for years, Bucky. And I tried—God, I tried so hard to forget. To move on. But it always comes back to you. It’s always you.”

He steps forward, cautiously, like you’re made of something fragile and he’s finally figured out he’s been the one cracking you all along.

“I didn’t know,” he says, voice low. “I swear, doll, I didn’t know it hurt you that much. I thought…” He trails off, jaw clenched like he can’t bring himself to finish the thought. “I thought you didn’t want me.”

You laugh, bitter though you don’t mean it to be. “I wanted you so much it hurt.”

And maybe that’s all it takes. For everything to unravel. For the silence to finally shatter. Because when he reaches for you again, you don’t pull away.

——

You said that by now we’d

Paint the walls of our shared apartment

You’re still everything I want and

I think we can work it out

“I used to picture it, you know,” he says, voice low. “What it’d be like if we ever figured it out.”

“Our place,” he says. “Some shitty apartment with a leaky faucet and bad lighting. But we’d paint the walls. Together. You’d pick the palette, I’d botch the corners.”

The image of it burns your brain. God knows what you would give to have that. The sheer domesticity of it all.

Bucky had been everything you’d ever wanted. He is everything you’ve ever dreamed of. And maybe that’s the problem. Dreams aren’t built to last in real light. Not when they’re made of “almosts” and “what ifs.”

But he’s sitting next to you now, limbs tangled and his thumb is brushing your cheek. He doesn’t look at you when he speaks next. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice barely more than breath. “For the way I hurt you.”

Your eyes stay on him, even as his stay fixed on the floor. His thumb stills against your skin.

“I didn’t mean to. I just... I didn’t know how to stay when things got hard. Didn’t know how to hold something good without breaking it.”

He’s quiet for a long beat, thumb stilling against your cheek. When he finally speaks, his voice is rough, like it’s scraped against something sharp on the way out.

“I thought you didn’t want me,” he says. “Back then, I really believed that. I thought you were done. So I didn’t push. Just let you leave and followed you around like a shadow, watching from the edges, never able to find the courage to fix what we had."

You blink, caught between disbelief and the ache that’s never quite left.

“I should’ve asked. Should’ve fought harder,” he continues, voice barely above a whisper. “But I didn’t know how. And maybe I was scared too. Scared that if I looked too closely, I’d find out I was the only one who felt everything I felt.”

You take a shaky breath. It feels like the first real one you’ve taken in years. “I wanted you,” you say quietly. “I still do.”

His eyes flicker down to your mouth, then back up again, searching your face like he’s making sure this is real. Like he’s afraid to ruin it by wanting too much.

“You still do?” he whispers, almost disbelieving. You nod, just once. “Yeah.”

That’s all it takes.

He leans in slowly, carefully, giving you time to pull away, to say no, but you don’t want to. Not when it’s everything you’ve been wishing for all your life. You tilt your face toward his, eyes fluttering closed just as his lips brush against yours. It’s not rushed or desperate. It’s quiet. Careful. Reverent.

His hand slips from your cheek to the back of your neck, cradling you gently as he deepens the kiss, just slightly, just enough to feel like home. And when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours. “I missed you,” he murmurs. And you allow yourself to dream once again, a much more real and grounded dream. Maybe we could work it out this time. He leans back a little, studying you with that half-grin that used to undo you. “So,” he murmurs, like he’s trying not to smile too much, “what are you doing now?”

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xoln04f1xo · 3 days ago

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Fluff / Angst

Pairings: LN04 x Reader

WARNINGS: Mentions of needles, mild anxiety, slight insecurity/self-doubt

WC: 0.5k

Divider Credit: @bernardsbendystraws

You hadn’t planned on keeping it a secret forever. The butterfly was small, delicate - resting on the inside of your wrist like a whispered promise to yourself. It meant freedom. Growth. Change. Things you didn’t know how to explain to anyone yet, not even to him.

So you didn’t tell Lando.

You figured, one day. When it felt right.

You didn’t expect him to find out the way he did - sitting in a busy Monaco café with his friends, when Max slid his phone across the table and grinned.

“Didn’t know your girl had a thing for ink, mate.”

Lando’s eyebrows pulled together. He turned the screen around.

It was a photo - you, from the night before, laughing at dinner, arm half-extended as you reached for a drink. Barely visible beneath your sleeve: the butterfly.

For a second, he didn’t react.

Then he smiled - tight, confused, a little hurt, and handed the phone back without a word.

Max didn’t notice.

But Charles, sitting beside him, caught the shift. He nudged Lando's elbow quietly.

"You okay?"

Lando nodded. Lied.

“Yeah. Just didn’t know.”

You were at home when he showed up, keys jangling a little louder than usual, footsteps too fast up the stairs.

“Hey, Lan..."

You barely got the words out before he was standing in front of you, eyes wide, searching your face.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Your heart jumped into your throat.

“I...” you faltered, hand instinctively pulling down your sleeve. Too late. He had seen it. The butterfly.

“It’s beautiful,” he said quickly, before you could spiral. His voice was soft, but his expression stayed wounded. “I just… wish you would’ve told me.”

You looked down, embarrassed.

“It wasn’t about you, Lan. It was… for me. And honestly? I was scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“That you’d think it was stupid,” you whispered. “Or that you wouldn’t get it.”

He stepped forward, hands gentle as they closed around your wrists.

“I get it if you tell me.” His thumbs brushed over your skin, feather-light where the ink lay. “I want to understand everything about you, even the parts you’re scared to show.”

Your chest tightened.

“I just needed something for me,” you said, voice cracking a little. “After everything this year... I needed a reminder that I’m not stuck. That I can change. Fly, even.”

Lando smiled, but there was sadness in it. “You never have to hide your wings from me, love.”

Tears blurred your vision. He pressed his forehead to yours, his hands never letting go of your wrist.

“I love it,” he whispered. “I love you.” He pulled back just enough to press a kiss to the butterfly - slow, reverent - like he was sealing a promise.

A tear slipped down your cheek. Lando caught it with his thumb, smiling softly.

“You’re stuck with me, butterfly girl,” he murmured. “Tattoos and all.”

You laughed, watery but real.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He pulled you against his chest, your heartbeat thudding against his. His hand stayed wrapped around your wrist, cradling the butterfly like it was the most precious thing in the world.

Maybe it was.

Click here for more!

#f1 #x reader #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #ln04 #lando norris #lando x reader #tattoos #butterfly #butterfly tattoo #ln4 #ln #fluff #light angst #angst

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emmylksblog · 2 days ago

Text

ON YOUR ICE // HÉCTOR FORT

summary: you and Héctor have a skate date where you try to teach him how to skate, or... just try to keep him from falling every five seconds

genre: héctor fort x figure skater reader, fluff

requested

warnings: héctor being cute 😔

a/n: let's just forget barça lost yesterday and keep our heads up, more good things are going to come! excited for the clasico this weekend

Héctor always made sure to include you in his football life, bringing you along to important matches and training sessions. You happily went, always ready to support him. And in return, he tried to do the same for you as a professional figure skater. The only difference? You knew everything about Barça and football, but something told you Héctor knew nothing about skating.

Today, that was going to change. You were finally taking your boyfriend to the rink and bringing him into your own world.

Usually, Sundays were for lazy couch days, tangled up together, supposedly watching some random series neither of you could ever recall because, honestly, it always turned into a make-out session five minutes in. But not today. Today, you were packing your training bag like always, tying your hair into a high ponytail, applying some light makeup, and practically buzzing with excitement.

Héctor had been ready for ten minutes, waiting for you in the living room. You double-checked you hadn’t forgotten anything before heading downstairs, practically glowing with anticipation. This was more than just a sport to you. The rink was your sanctuary, the place you went when your mind felt cluttered, when the world felt loud. Skating grounded you.

As soon as you reached the bottom of the stairs, Héctor was already walking over. He greeted you with a kiss, and you let out a soft, dramatic protest.

“Seriously? I just put on lip gloss.”

“Mmm... my favorite. Strawberry,” he murmured ignoring your protests and refusing to let go of your waist or even pull back an inch.

You playfully pinched his ear. “You always do this, Fort.”

He chuckled but stopped the second you used his last name. “Hey, don’t get mad, cariño. You know I love you,” he said before attacking your face with kisses.

You pushed him away with a firm hand. “Okay, okay! Let’s not forget we’re going skating today. I know you’re nervous.”

He caught your hands mid-air and pulled you back toward him. “Nervous? Me? Nah.”

The rink was nearly empty, just like you expected, it was Sunday, and you had open access whenever you needed to train. Bringing someone with you wasn’t a problem.

Héctor, with a lot of help, had finally gotten his skates on. You had suggested he wear pads, but of course, your stubborn footballer boyfriend said it was “impossible” for him to get injured. Naturally. You rolled your eyes.

You stepped onto the ice first, gliding effortlessly along the edge of the rink for your warm-up, throwing in a few jumps here and there. When you skated back, Héctor hadn’t moved a single inch. He stood exactly where you left him, eyes wide, completely entranced by how beautiful and natural you looked doing your own thing and wondered if he looked like that too when he plays football.

You laughed. “Don’t tell me you actually have no clue how to skate?”

Your answer came fast. Héctor attempted to move forward and immediately—

“Careful!”

—crashed into you. You both went down, limbs tangled. Luckily, he managed to catch himself, hands on either side of your face to avoid squashing you. Your eyes met. A beat of silence. Then both of you burst out laughing.

Héctor rolled off to your side, lying flat on his back. You wiped tears of laughter from your eyes as you stood up and extended your hands to help him.

“This time, try skating, not tackling me, Tor,” you teased, ruffling his hair.

“Then teach me, smartass,” he said, flicking your forehead before fixing his hair again.

“Okay, okay, push off with your left foot to gain momentum, and then use your right to balance. Like that. Yes!”

You held both his hands as you guided him slowly. “See? I’m a natural, on and off the pitch,” he bragged.

You immediately let go of his hands. “Oh really? Let’s see what you can do now, Mr. Natural.”

His eyes widened in panic as his arms flailed to keep balance. “Oi! No fair! Get back here!”

“You got this, baby. You’ve done great so far,” you said encouragingly, motioning for him to skate toward you.

With a shaky first step, he tried to recall everything you’d taught him in the last half hour. And for you it was like watching a baby take its first steps. He wobbled. “Ah—”

You almost ran to help, but he quickly righted himself. “You okay?” you called out.

Thumbs up. Bent forward. Determined.

“You’re almost there! I believe in you!” you shouted, heart swelling with pride.

Héctor looked up and found your eyes, those same eyes that always brought him peace when he was overwhelmed. He focused on them. Everything else melted away. He moved forward, slowly but steadily, until he was only a meter away… then wrapped you up in a triumphant hug.

“I’m proud of you,” you whispered, hugging him back tightly.

Something bloomed in his chest. That kind of pride he usually only felt when he nailed a new trick shot in training and impressed Flick. You were proud of him, and Héctor wanted to make sure you'd always be.

“See? I am a legend,” he said with a cocky wink.

You pulled away just a bit. “Wanna test that? I’m skating off again—let’s see if you can follow me,” you teased.

“Okay, okay! Let’s not push it, I was kidding,” he said, stretching his arms out for you to come back. The little bastard then pulled you into a headlock-style hug with his arm around your neck.

“Traitor!” you gasped.

“You’re not leaving my side again,” he said, planting a loud kiss on your cheek.

You gave in, melting into his hold, until— “Aaah—” “Héctor!!”

Your boyfriend slipped, sending you both crashing to the ice again—this time with you landing on top of him. Héctor tried to do what he could to break your fall and keep you from hitting him full force.

“Lo siento amor,” he groaned, your full weight pressing down on his chest.

You rolled off with effort, trying not to laugh. “You’re unbelievable,” you muttered, lightly smacking his arm.

“Hey, it wasn’t on purpose!” he said through his laughter. You couldn’t even pretend to be mad, you started laughing too and laid your head on his chest.“I know, dummy.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I love you.”

“I don’t. You almost injured me,” you smiled on his chest, waiting for his reaction. When you looked up at his face, you burst out laughing.

Héctor gave you that signature side-smirk, and you knew he was up to something. Before you could react, he slid his hands under your arms and lifted you up toward his face to kiss you.

“How about now?” “No.” Another kiss. “Now?” “A little.” One longer kiss. “Almost.”

This time, you were the one to kiss him. Soft, slow, and unhurried, your lips moving in sync. You lost yourselves in the moment, and if it weren’t for the need to breathe, you could’ve stayed like that forever.

“I guess you earned it. I love you, Tor,” you whispered, smiling at him.

#hector fort #fc barcelona x reader #fcb x reader #footballer x reader #hector fort x reader #footballer x y/n #fluff

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imsosoheee · 1 day ago

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perfect - lcy

wc: 783 | pairing: boyfriend!anton x gf!reader

genre: straight fluff LOL

a/n: my first request!! happiest birthday, @karebearyu <3

he adjusts his cufflinks again.

it’s the third time in five minutes, but his hands won’t sit still. the tux fits perfectly—thanks to the quiet appointment he made weeks ago—but none of that stops the way his heart flutters as he reaches your door.

he knocks once. then again, softer.

when you open it, he forgets how to breathe.

you’re standing there like a painting—flowy rose-pink dress, soft sleeves fluttering like petals, hair half-up and held in place with the pearl barrette he remembers you mentioning once in passing. the necklace he gave you glints faintly at your collarbone, and your lips curve in a shy, almost surprised smile.

his fingers tighten around the bouquet in his hands.

“you look…” he tries, but the words trip over his heart. “you look like a flower.”

your eyebrows lift, amused. “a flower?”

“yeah,” he says, voice low. “i picked the dress because it reminded me of one. soft, romantic. like you. and tonight… you really do look like a flower.”

you blush. he loves when you do that.

he hands you the bouquet, watching the way your carefully polished nails—rosy bubblegum, like you told him you were thinking of trying—curve gently around the stems. you’re glowing. you don’t even realize it.

he offers you his arm, and when your hand finds his, everything steadies.

the concert hall is a blur around you—opulence, gold light, marble steps—but anton barely notices it. he only notices the way you lean into his side as you walk, the way your dress sways at your ankles, the way your fingers lace through his so naturally, like they belong there.

you both take your seats as the lights begin to dim, and when the first few aching notes of rachmaninoff’s piano concerto no. 2 begin, he glances at you.

your lashes flutter. your lips part just slightly, eyes wide as the orchestra swells.

you’re lost in it. and anton… he’s lost in you.

he squeezes your hand gently.

“you okay?” you whisper, turning toward him.

he nods, smiling. “just happy.”

he wants to tell you the music reminds him of you. beautiful in a way he can’t describe. something that stirs everything in him, something that lingers even when it’s over.

he doesn’t say it, but he thinks it with every note.

and when the concert ends, when the lights rise again and you look at him with that warm, open smile—he leans in and brushes your hair back, fingers brushing your earring.

“you’re perfect,” he whispers.

and then he kisses you.

soft. slow. like the final note of the symphony, still echoing between you.

by the time you both step out of the concert hall, the sky has opened up.

rain falls gently—just enough to paint the pavement in shimmer. anton shrugs off his tuxedo jacket without a word and drapes it around your shoulders.

“anton—” you begin to protest.

“you’ll get cold,” he says simply, tucking it closer around you.

your smile is quiet, but your hand slips back into his like it was waiting to.

you walk without rushing, heels tapping lightly against wet stone as you pass through the city’s glowing quiet. the world feels hushed, softened by rain. the kind of night where everything feels cinematic.

you’re still holding the bouquet, petals damp at the edges, but you don’t seem to mind. anton watches you out of the corner of his eye—how the soft curls of your hair start to fall loose, how your thumb traces circles along the side of his hand like you don’t even realize you’re doing it.

he wishes he could bottle this moment. the rain, the way your dress brushes your calves with every step, the curve of your smile.

he wishes he could keep it forever.

“was this okay?” he asks, voice low, half-afraid the question will break the magic.

you look up at him, rain misting your lashes. “it was perfect.”

he stops walking just long enough to pull you a little closer. you’re already under his jacket, but he still wants to be nearer.

“you’re perfect,” he says again, softer this time. like it’s the only truth he knows.

and in the middle of the sidewalk, under the glow of a flickering streetlamp and the steady fall of rain, he kisses you again—slower this time, longer. one hand cupping your cheek, the other resting gently on your waist.

he pulls back only when your nose brushes his, your forehead tilted into his.

you laugh, breathless. “you taste like raindrops and concert halls.”

“you taste like my flower,” he whispers.

and for the rest of the walk home, he holds your hand like he never wants to let go.

#riize scenarios #kpop #riize #riize x reader #riize fluff #riize imagines #riize is 7 #anton fluff #anton #riize anton #anton x reader #anton lee #anton imagines #riize chanyoung #lee chanyoung #chanyoung x reader #riize headcanons

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k1ng-ej · 2 days ago

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For one of my manyyyg husbands, Soldier Boy/Ben >:)

Can you do him with an s/o that is the very definition of ‘girly’ and hyper feminine (constantly wears pink, frilly clothing, hair and makeup is always done, etc.) and just adores him? Like, even knowing everything about him and his past, she basically acts like he’s the sweetest thing ever

˖ ֹ੭୧ Soldier Boy with a girly S/O! ⊹ ࣪ ⑅

Note: hihi, thank you for all the requests haha, i absolutely love every single one! soldier boy is a softie here, i hope this is up to your expectations :)!

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ At first, Soldier Boy couldn't quite grasp your essence, your style and personality stood out starkly from everyone else's. Your pink outfits, adorable makeup that made you look like a porcelain doll, and your perfectly styled hair captivated him daily. He found it impossible to think of anything else. You were distinct, and he appreciated that. Although your bubbly attitude and perpetual cheeriness could get on his nerves at times, he welcomed it because your smile was something he never wanted to fade.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ Soldier boy tried to hide his past from you, reluctant to reveal the circumstances that shaped him into who he became. With you, he yearned to be his best version— a stark departure from his usual attitude, because he was quite okay with the way he was. He didn't care if people thought he was a raging asshole, or a jerk, they could suck it up. But, eventually, he let you in. He was vulnerable. He was showing you a softer layer. You knew you would probably never get another moment like this, you were gentle with him, you listened intently to what he told you about his past. You were nothing but the sweetest with him and treating him with the upmost care, something he hadn't received in a long time. He would show you his appreciation through affectionate gestures, peppering kisses on your jawline, carefully fixing your hair if even one strand was tousled. He knew he didn't deserve such a kind soul like yours, he was so afraid of screwing up. However, any time he did, you forgave him-- a sweet smile spread across your rosy lips, your kind eyes gazing lovingly into his. He would've thought he was the best man on earth, no flaws, no fuck ups, he would've thought he was perfect from the way you treated him.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ He did horrible things, and you did think he could be a jerk, but he was charming in his own way. Whenever you wore a short, ruffled dress around him you were entering dangerous territory, his gaze lingering on your thighs as you wore thigh high socks that adorned bows, or his large hands squeezing your waist as he pulled you against him. He was not ashamed to tell you how stunning and beautiful you were, or show the world that you were his. He would encourage you to give him personalized fashion shows, instructing you to twirl for him after each dress you would try on or outfit you put together. He would shamelessly stare, taking in every inch of your body, appreciating how your style complimented you immaculately.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ He would gladly let you adorn his hair with bows or tie ribbons around his arms, caring only about your happiness. But it came with a price. In return, he would pull you in for passionate, fervent kisses, leaving traces of smeared lipstick on his lips, which he welcomed. One hand would weave through your hair, giving a playful tug, while the other rested on your lower back, drawing you nearer.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡ Ben was a different man with you, he was much nicer with you. His demeanor would shift completely during your conversations, his tone softening and his choice of words became more refined. The Boys would stare at you two like you had grown extra heads, they were baffled by your relationship, but more shocked that Ben actually had a nicer side to him. Of course, they were concerned that something bad was happening behind the scenes, but when you confirmed multiple times that you were in a happy, healthy relationship with Ben, they supported you.

#x reader #fluff #oneshot #the boys #the boys fanfic #soldier boy x reader #solider boy x you #soldier boy fluff #soldier boy fic #soldier boy the boys #soldier boy #soldier boy being soft #no warnings #the boys x reader #the boys fluff #the boys tv #jensen ackles #ily jensen ackles #mikeyreqs

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elderwisp · 2 days ago

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Hi wisp, I was wondering if you have any beginning editing tips. I am unable to get shaders but would love crispy cool sims. Thanks. Hope that makes sense.

Hi! Yeah! I'll make this into a master list and kinda go through the process starting from programs, your game settings to editing in a photo editor and any little details. I want to try and make it as accessible as well, normally I use photoshop. However, for this tutorial, I'll be trying out Photopea!

Programs and Optimizing your game:

☆ Here I have a list of free editing programs!

☆ This posts links a majority of my editing tuts but this one in particular has a texture pack which I'll be using in this tut

☆ Here I go over SWRE settings. Pictureamoebae goes into depth about the program/links it here. It isn't necessary but it does help maintain the quality of a photo without needing to crop it. I won't be using it in this tut but it could be something you try out in the future!

☆ I do run my game with custom settings, here's a picture of that! Edge smoothing is off for reshade purposes but for this tut, it's on high as well

Angles and Lighting:

☆ For this tut, we'll be working with Rowan! The composition of a picture is always an enjoyable part for me, I'd be lying if I didn't say I spent at least 25% of the whole process setting up a photo. The first photo shows the environment more and almost makes Rowan look smaller in a bigger world. Meanwhile the second, it feels like we're at Rowan's level and seeing the world through his eye. Both are good, it's just what do you want to communicate? I was actually gonna go with the first but I sorta like the second now and that's because of the sky

☆ Which leads me to the next part, the lighting. Lighting sets a mood for everything and I could yap about color theory for days but for now, I like the color of the evening sky. The purples look nice against the orange and greens! Lighting indoor is trickier but you can still manage with the placement of lighting fixtures. I don't like to use overhead lights in game because it just gives my sims weird shadows with reshade but it could be different for you. Also here is this neon light set I love using in case you want to use color indoors! They're a lot more vibrant that just the regular old ea lights

Editing:

☆ I felt like the easiest way to go about this is a video! I tried to keep it to the basics but as time goes on you can add different skills like drawing in hair, going in depth with color grading, etc. I did forget to include the curves layer because in photoshop that's grouped into Camera Raw Filter but honestly, for this tut I think that's okay. Curves layer just allows you to get really precise with how much highlight/shadows/whites/blacks are pulling in the photo as well as a brief intro to color grading. Anyways here is that video backed by the beautiful soundtrack of SKYRIM-

Original and Edited (without field blur/with field blur):

#asks #editing

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dragon-toad · 2 hours ago

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Okay okay, not to be mean or anything but... The poster makes sense for me ? Please I don't care if you prefer Kataang, Zutara or another third secret option, read this and don't take it bad, I'm just trying to articulate my thoughts and my disagreement, and opening the discussion, which I think this fandom lacks a lot. (Sorry if it sounds mean, it's not my intention, I just have some difficulties not seeming agressive when I'm trying to make a point.)

(And please don't harass me after that and PLEASE don't start a war on which ship is better, now is not the time, I think we should all grow up and discuss with people with different opinions to try to understand them, and maybe, maybe, make peace and stop insulting each other, try to, I don't know, make your ship stuff with your side of the fandom without always having to go harass the other side of the fandom ?)

Aang is the main character, right ? Plus it's a kids show. Ofc he will be almost everywhere, it's the most natural thing for a show, especially for a cartoon. And yes, he's here more than Katara or Sokka even if they're main characters too, because he is THE main character, the avatar, the show has always been made this way and we can't change anything about it.

Moreover, I don't know where you saw Tui and La being Katara and Zuko's symbol, because Zuko has literally no like to Tui and La ?

It's understandable for Katara because she one of the strongest waterbender in the world, she knew the new moon spirit (Yue) and she saw the two spirits.

Zuko, on an other hand, doesn't have as much link. But Aang does. He's the Avatar, and we all remember the s1 final, right ?

And even if it was supposed to be a Aang and Zuko piece first, except if was representing the dragons, it wouldn't have fit, or not as much, and I don't know if it was because I did not go on the history of the poster. But it makes sense to have a more Katara-centric poster. Because we have to remember Zuko became a main good guy way later, but Katara has always been one of the original main characters, so of course we're gonna see more Katara, even if Zuko is a very interesting character.

Can't we just... appreciate a beautiful piece of art without making everything a ship war for a show that aired 20 years ago ? Aren't we too old for this kind of childish actions ?

We have to remember that yes, it's a show very loved for a lot of people since the 2000s, but it's still a kids show ! Kids still discover it today ! Hell, I discovered Avatar something like 5 years ago with my little brother ! Can't we be an example of maturity for the youngest ?

You don't realize how excited I was to enter the avatar fandom for the first time, it was one of my first fandoms ! And you know what was my reaction when I discovered it ?

I was disgusted. Not because I had saw people shipping Zutara when I preferred Aang and Katara, I didn't give a fuck (and still don't, except when somebody is diabolising, reducing or objectifying a character), people can ship whatever non problematic ship they want (I draw the line as incest, pedophilia, explicit toxic relationship and other openly reprehensible things). What disgusted me was seeing +20 yo adults being more immature than me, a 13 to teenage, by insulting themselves because they didn't agree on something as trivial as two characters kissing.

I feel like it derived a lot from the original point and I'm sorry, it seems like I had a lot of thoughts to get out of my mind...

i’m new to tumblr so i’m sorry idk how this works. i’m more active on zk twitter and tiktok. but i know there is an active zutara community so i just wanted to rant.

this was the poster avatar studios made for the 20th anniversary concert, which i really wanted to go see. it’s a gorgeous picture ill admit the artist who did it is really talented and amazing. but why can’t katara be alone? is aang being on this poster necessary? katara is a waterbender so why is he there? he was alone on his poster so why can’t she be alone on hers?

what really makes me sick to my stomach is that they included tui and la. that’s zutara’s thing. kat@@ng doesn’t even fit that narrative. i refuse to let them rewrite history yet again because now kat@@ngs are just going to be even more annoying about it.

i know it’s not that deep but i saw this and felt like shit especially because it’s beautiful. the artist even wanted to make a zuko aang piece first but bryke or whatever made them change it to kataang i guess.

#katara #aang #zuko #zutara #kataang #atla #avatar the last airbender #avatar #avatar aang #katara x zuko #katara x aang #katara atla #zuko atla #atla aang #If I see anybody rebloging my answer with a anti-something tag #I don't know what I'll do but I'll do something !!!#posts #sorry for the long not related part #and for the bad english

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islakaliko · 1 day ago

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— Bonus: A day just for us

disclaimer: a/b/o universe, alpha john price, male omega reader, very self indulged

< epilogue | navigation >

The countryside was quiet that morning, the air painted with the gentle rustle of trees and the sweet hum of birdsong. A pale sun peeked through soft clouds, casting golden light across a clearing wrapped in wildflowers and tall grass. It was the kind of day made just for memories.

John stood beneath the arch, a hand loosely folded over the other in front of him, heart hammering in his chest despite his years of discipline. Dressed in a perfectly tailored navy suit, he looked every bit the soldier he was—until your eyes met his. Then all you saw was the man. A man in love.

Soap leaned toward Ghost in the row beside the arch. “Think he’s nervous?”

Ghost grunted. “He’s terrified.”

Gaz smiled faintly. “He should be. He’s about to marry the best person any of us know.”

And then—

The soft rustle of fabric. A quiet gasp from Soap.

(y/n) stepped into view, walking slowly down the flower-lined path.

Dressed in a flowing cream suit with sheer detailing, he moved like something out of a dream. A sprig of lavender sat in his pocket, simple but meaningful. His hair was gently styled, eyes bright, cheeks already pink as he locked eyes with John and never looked away.

John exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for years.

Every step (y/n) took felt like gravity pulling them together, the whole world shrinking down to the space between them. When he reached the arch, John reached out immediately, unable to help himself.

“You look…” John’s voice caught in his throat. “Beautiful.”

(y/n) laughed softly, tucking his fingers into John’s. “So do you, Captain.”

Soap, dressed up for the rare occasion, sniffled as he stepped forward with a faux-serious expression. “Right then. Seeing as no one objected—thankfully—I guess we’re doin’ this.”

They didn’t follow tradition. No long speeches, no paper vows. Just their hands clasped, the only promise they needed echoing in the silence.

John’s thumb stroked over (y/n)’s knuckles. “From the moment I met you, I knew. I’ve never wanted anything more than this. You. A life together. And I’ll spend every day earning it.”

(y/n)’s voice shook just a little. “You already do. I’ve never felt safer, or more seen. And I want everything with you. Always.”

“Okay, now kiss already,” Soap huffed.

They both laughed, leaning in—and John kissed him like it was the first and last time, gentle and deep, with so much love behind it that even Ghost looked away.

Applause broke out—more of a pack whoop than polite clapping—but (y/n) barely noticed. He only noticed the way John kept holding onto him like he’d never let go.

That night, the five of them gathered around a fire. No loud music. No big party. Just warmth, laughter, teasing from Soap, heartfelt toasts from Gaz, and Ghost sitting in content silence.

(y/n) sat curled against John’s side, their wedding bands glinting in the firelight. A quiet hum of we did it settling in his chest.

And before sleep claimed them that night, John murmured against (y/n)’s temple, “One day, it won’t just be us anymore. I want a big family with you.”

(y/n) smiled, already drifting. “Yeah… me too.”

#x male reader #call of duty x male reader #cod x male reader #call of duty #cod #john price x male reader #john price x reader #john price x y/n #john price x you #john price

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sanktpolypenbourg · 2 days ago

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Love Yellowjackets obviously; I really enjoy that particular and somewhat nauseating blend between dark sitcom jokes and unflinching bleak brutality. It's kinda like Santa Clarita Diet except the jokes don't make it okay? You get girls goofing around about pop culture and eating each other's flesh and it never gets lighthearted, and that's by design. There are funny things in it, there are funny ways to look at even some of the most horrible things that happen in it, but the underlying reality is something much larger that exists well beyond the realm of humor. You make jokes about the cannibalism, but the cannibalism will be there whether you joke about it or not.

It once again does that thing I love from Don't Hug Me I'm Scared - everyone is a monster, and everyone is a person. Just because someone is quirky and relatable and vulnerable and suffering from near incomprehensible grief and trauma doesn't mean that their horrible blocky teeth weren't that of an apex predator. All it really takes is a shift in perspective from something being you to it being the most scary fucking thing you could imagine, and sometimes it doesn't even take that.

How do I put it - no matter how it all ultimately plays out and resolves, I feel one of its core things is that it is a reflection on the nature of, well, nature, and to a larger extend reality itself.

Everything we love and hate about ourselves is ultimately a tiny bubble in a sea of relentless entropy. No, it's not weird or a contradiction that the same girls who hunt, butcher, cook and eat one another also frolic with flower crowns and cuddle and make sarcastic jokes about the horrors of the shitbucket and do, quote "stupid girl shit". In fact they are exactly what humans have always been, just put into stark focus by how their world has been narrowed down. We are building our sitcoms and teen romance and heroic action movies and porn and entire fcking religions as subplots within the largest horror movie of all, the one that doesn't have a name and doesn't even care whether or not we are afraid or laughing, whether we find it beautiful or ugly, the movie where everyone is a prop and nobody is the audience.

Put differently:

Misty talks someone out of suicide by confrontationally teasing them and grossing them out with the prospect that she will personally eat their jucy buttmeats. The joke is delivered perfectly but the situation IS life and death, her tears ARE real, they ARE surrounded by death and hoplessness on all sides, she HAS eaten human flesh before and will do so again.

The incredible Liv Hewson plays in some ways the same tough snarky character they play in Santa Clarita. But you always watch them in the context of that much larger, infinitely indifferent universe. Their character is snarky IN the forest, but the forest itself isn't inherently funny, neither are the wolves that eat their face or the fire that burns them. Nor is the flesh of the people they themselves eat. Those things just are.

#yellowjackets #misty quigley #van palmer

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thesweetcurse · 3 days ago

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The solution lies in I AM

The solution to all my problems was realizing that I am the solution. It was also accepting that problems, circumstances and everything that stands between me and my desires are nonexistent. Was it easy to accept such a relief? No, at least not for me. In all these years, struggle was my comfort. So no, feeling relief wasn't easy. Struggling kept me alive, it gave me purpose. The problems in my life, they were like missions I had to complete. It took me years to let go of struggle. It took me years to stop myself from creating problems. Not because it was difficult, but because I didn't want to let go of it. Because what would happen if I've let my self feel relieved for once? What would I entertain in my mind then? What could I fix then, if nothing ever needed to be fixed? What would I simply do in this life? The answer is, I would simply be. I forgot so quick that I am pure consciousness having a human experience and love is my nature. How beautiful is that?

The law opened my eyes. It showed me that my inner world can be shaped by me only. And I can shape it with love. It showed me how sacred my imagination is. I can have everything here. I want a new nose? I have it. I want to be confident? I am it. I want to go to Italy? I am in Italy.

You know, there was a time where I didn't even want to imagine the things I wanted. I was getting mad when I read posts where bloggers would say things like "you just have to imagine. You want something, go within and imagine your end." It would stress me so much I can't tell you how mad I would get. But why? Why did I feel this way? Why was I so hopeless and desperate? Let me tell you why, my love: I did not see imagination as reality. But not only that. I imagined to get. I did not see whatever I did or claimed in imagination as the end. I saw it as the start. I saw it as something I have to activate in my mind, and then it would show up in my 3d. Of course I would get mad to imagine what I want! There are two things you have to accept: Consciousness is the only reality and creation is finished. So when you imagine, you are experiencing/having/being it and you are done, that was the end, you have it/ are it now. How does that make you feel? Can you accept that or are you still not okay with that? If not, is it maybe because you are still expecting something when you imagine? Do you still hope to get something?

But what? I've said it before and I say it again: If you want something in the outer world, achieve it with your outer self. Imagination has nothing to with the outer world. You are not imagining to trigger or activate something to finally experience it in the 3d. Please understand that. You are also not creating, because creation is finished. When you imagine and you have thoughts like "is this possible? I think this is so much. How would that even happen it seems a little unrealistic." then I want to ask you something: What are you doing, my love? Why would it be impossible? Why would it be unrealistic? And why are you thinking about the "how"? "How" what? It's about experiencing!!! It's about feeling what you want to feel and being who you want to be IN IMAGINATION! Put the 3d out of equation, please. You will only suffer. Imagine purely for enjoyment. Nothing else.

This is how you become your own solution. You see something in the 3d you don't like? Do not accept it. You don't have to. Go inwardly and experience your happy end. Just experience it in your imagination. You are not doing, hoping or getting, you just want to feel what you want and that's it. And when it shows up in the 3d (which it will wether you care or not) it will be quite ordinary. Because in imagination, your desire became a fact. You no longer desire. You no longer crave the materialization of that feeling.

Let's say you want to manifest a penthouse. Before you read this post, you probably had doubts manifesting one. You probably worried about the how and when. Maybe you wanted to use imagination as a way to manifest that penthouse into your 3d. But after reading my post, you know that misusing imagination to get the penthouse in the 3d is pointless and focusing on the how and when would only contradict your state. Now, the penthouse on its own has no meaning. If the penthouse had no worth or meaning why would we want one? We want the feelings that come with owning a penthouse. The feeling could be freedom, it could also be wealth or privacy. Or happiness or even responsibility. If you want to use visualization as a method, you could look up for cute pictures of penthouses. It's not really necessary because you imagine for fun not to attract anything so you don't have to visualize every little corner of that penthouse (unless you want it. It's literally your choice. You do what you want to do in your inner world). In this world of imagination, you don't need anything. It's not about making the scenes perfect. It's about fulfilling yourself. Do that by giving yourself all these feelings that you WANT to feel. I want you to take all the meaning and feeling out of that penthouse and fulfill it within. Give it to yourself in imagination. Don't forget who you are, you are god of your inner world. There is nothing you can't have in your inner reality. Every thing in your reality is so small compared to you. So everything that you do in your imagination feels good and when you imagine your penthouse, it would be weird not to feel good. I mean why would you feel bad? You simply enjoy imagining what you want which would be a penthouse in this case.

Okay, let's say you imagined what you want then looked around and asked "well, where is it then? I can't see it! It's not working.". First of all, you are misusing your imaginative power and why would you say that you can't see it? It's not about seeing, my love. It's about feeling and being what you want. And if you are feeling and being who you want to be, then it has worked, because the whole purpose of imagination is to feel fulfilled. Do you see, my love? The 3d has no place in this process, it has no role. By the time your desire has materialized, you have moved on because the penthouse came totally alone, you already took its worth and meaning and fulfilled it within.

This is what we mean when we say to only change self. It's all about you. Remember, nothing in imagination is impossible. It's your safe space, your creative power. If you feel desperate imagining than a) you don't imagine what you want e.g. you imagine negative things that make you feel bad or b) you imagine to get sth in the 3d meaning you're postponing the feeling.

I hope that you slowly get why in imagination, circumstances and problems are nonexistent. I mean, you can still make imagination your own personal hell if you want to but now you know that you don't have to. Looking back, I find it so surreal that as GOD, I chose to make my inner world suffer so much. But if I can decide hell, I can also decide heaven. I can decide love.

And so can you, my love.

#edward art #law of assumption #loa tumblr #manifestation #neville goddard #loa advice #loablr #loassumption #imagination #consciousness #loassblog #loass post #loass states #loassblr #loass tumblr

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gracefulhrt · 3 days ago

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𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐕𝐎𝐖𝐒. husband!chris

the hotel room was quiet except for the slow hum of the air conditioning and the ocean beyond the open window. moonlight spilled across the sheets, soft and silver, casting faint shadows over the tangled white linen. somewhere, champagne still fizzed in glasses left forgotten on the table. the door was locked. the world was gone.

just you and chris.

he looked at you like you were the only thing he could see. like the moment had cracked something open in him. the ceremony, the vows, the pictures, the kiss—it had all built to this. and now, standing in the soft light, barefoot with his shirt half-unbuttoned and his wedding band catching the moon, he looked wrecked. beautifully wrecked.

you sat on the edge of the bed, hair down, skin still glowing from the day, dress long since gone. the lace robe you’d changed into slid a little off your shoulder. he watched that too. everything. his hands twitched at his sides, like he didn’t know where to start.

“come here,” you whispered.

his mouth curved slightly. “you sure?”

you nodded, voice quiet. “you’re my husband.”

he blinked like he still wasn’t used to the word.

he crossed the room slowly, careful with each step like he didn’t want to rush it. didn’t want to scare it off. he stopped in front of you and bent slightly, brushing his knuckles along your jaw.

“hi,” he said softly, like it was the first time.

you smiled, leaning into his touch. “hi.”

he kissed you then—slow and unhurried. not hungry. not desperate. just deep, and warm, and full of everything he didn’t have the words for. you melted into it, your fingers curling around his wrist, your mouth parting for him like it was instinct.

his hand cradled the side of your face, thumb brushing your cheekbone, and when he pulled back, he was already breathing like he’d run a mile.

“you’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered. “i can’t believe you’re mine.”

you kissed him again, this time softer. “i’ve always been yours.”

he kissed your neck as you leaned back into the bed, his body following yours. he hovered over you, bracing himself with one hand beside your head, the other running down your side, ghosting over the tie at your waist.

“can i?” he asked, eyes locked on yours.

“yes,” you breathed.

he undid the knot with one gentle tug, watching as the robe slipped open beneath you. his hand splayed across your stomach, reverent, warm. he didn’t move it. just held you there, like he was grounding himself.

“i used to dream about this,” he said quietly. “not like… sex. just this. touching you like this. knowing you’re mine.”

your throat tightened. your fingers laced through his hair and pulled him down into another kiss.

his touch moved slow. worshipful. he slid the robe off your shoulders, down your arms, kissing every inch of skin he uncovered. he kissed your collarbone. the dip between your breasts. the soft curve of your stomach. you sighed his name, back arching into his mouth, his hands smoothing over your sides like he wanted to memorize the shape of you.

he pulled off his shirt next, tossing it somewhere behind him, and then there was only skin. his chest warm and firm against yours, his body slotting against you perfectly. his mouth kissed down your ribs, his tongue flicking lightly across sensitive skin, making you squirm.

“look at you,” he whispered. “you’re unreal.”

“chris,” you breathed, tugging him up again.

he kissed your lips. “tell me what you need.”

you didn’t speak. just reached between you and slid your hand into the waistband of his pants. he groaned, low and quiet, pressing his forehead to yours as you palmed him through the fabric.

“fuck. okay,” he whispered, like he had to focus just to breathe.

he stripped out of the rest of his clothes, slow and flushed, not breaking eye contact. you took your time touching him. hands on his chest, over his shoulders, down his sides. he shivered under your fingers, leaning into every touch like it was something sacred.

you spread your legs slowly, inviting him closer, and he slid between them like he belonged there. his hand cupped your jaw, lips brushing yours.

“you ready, baby?”

you nodded. “please.”

he reached down and lined himself up, eyes on you the whole time. and when he pushed inside, both of you moaned softly into each other’s mouths. the stretch was slow, deep, inch by inch, until he was buried in you completely.

his head dropped to your shoulder. “jesus christ…”

you held him there, your arms wrapping around his back. “it’s okay,” you whispered. “i’ve got you.”

he kissed your neck, your jaw, your mouth, as he started to move. slow, rolling thrusts that made you feel every inch. his hand found yours on the sheets and laced your fingers together, pressing them into the mattress.

“you feel so good,” he murmured, mouth at your ear. “so warm. so soft. i don’t ever want to stop.”

your body arched beneath him, your other hand gripping his bicep, and he groaned when you clenched around him.

“fuck, baby, you’re perfect,” he whispered. “every part of you.”

his pace stayed slow, measured. he wasn’t fucking you. he was making love. each thrust purposeful. each kiss lingering. his other hand found your face again, thumb stroking along your cheek.

“you’re everything i ever wanted,” he said, voice tight. “everything.”

you kissed him hard then, mouth open, tongue sliding against his. he fucked you deeper, hips grinding, slow circles that made your toes curl.

you were close.

he could tell.

his lips brushed your ear. “you gonna come for me?”

you nodded, breath hitching. “yes. please—don’t stop.”

“never,” he whispered. “i’ll never stop loving you.”

you came with a soft cry, your body tightening around him, your hands clutching him like you needed him to stay. he kept moving through it, dragging every last wave from you, holding you like you might fall apart if he let go.

he was close now, breath short, muscles tight. you kissed the corner of his mouth, his jaw, whispering his name like it was the only thing you knew.

“come for me,” you said softly. “please, chris. come inside me.”

that broke him.

he came with a low moan, body curling over yours, face pressed into your neck as he spilled into you. his hips jerked, stuttering, then slowed until they stopped completely. the room was quiet again, just your breathing and the sea outside.

you held him there, stroking his back, fingers in his hair. he kissed your shoulder. your collarbone. your lips.

“i love you,” he whispered. “more than i know how to say.”

you smiled, your thumb brushing his cheek. “you just said it.”

he pulled out carefully, then rolled onto his side and pulled you with him, tucking you into his chest. his hand rubbed slow circles over your back. your leg slipped over his hip. everything warm. everything soft.

the air smelled like sex and salt and skin.

you were both glowing.

you didn’t need to speak. not right away. not with the way his hand held yours, his ring pressing warm against your knuckles. not with the way your nose nuzzled into the crook of his neck and you sighed, completely full. completely home.

and when he kissed your hair and said, “can’t believe i get to do this forever,” you didn’t cry. not quite.

you just kissed him back and said, “me too.”

( 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐇𝐑𝐓. )

requested by anon! honeymoon sex awhh!! and another smut?? i’m on a grind yall

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈$𝐓: @cherryswifeyy @whore4chris @backwardshatnick @bxsturni @wh0remikasas @ariheartsmatt @ruennei

#⊹ mine.#christopher sturniolo.#sturniolo triplets.

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wandasaura · 2 days ago

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THE GRACE OF SOUTHERN CHARM

summary — maybe the instance you fell in love with amanda rollins was the first time your daughters name rolled off her lips dripping with southern charm

warning(s) — single parent, medical examiner, mention of death, mention of assault, canon-typical content/dialogue, brief episode reference, southern accent, certified milf, pregnant amanda rollins, playful banter, flirting, oblivious reader, pregnancy, alludes to c-section delivery, ICE mentioned, consoling, cravings, mood swings (kinda), mentions/alludes to adoption, generally just cute domestic fluff

authors note — down bad for kelli giddish. once again not edited, nothing ever is here. enjoy :)

“The park isn’t this way.”

The New York skyline had evolved since you’d moved to New York. It had lost a couple of buildings, gained a couple more. It was different, but beautiful. Your life looked different too. All those years ago when you’d stepped foot in the city with a suitcase and an acceptance letter to Icahn School of Medicine at Mount Sinai. Everything had felt so big back then. The twin towns had reflected the sunlight down on you, Billionaire’s Row hadn’t seen a crowded expansion, Hudson Yards hadn’t grown so much. You’d have never anticipated the city to look the way it does now, but it had come to feel like home whether you missed the old New York City at night or not.

“We have to stop by Mommy’s job, remember?” Your voice is patient, more patient than it should be while wandering the streets of New York, but your daughter already softens your exterior and makes you vulnerable, that’s just the sad reality of the society you’re bringing her up in.

When you’d moved to New York City, before the World Trade Center had needed to be rebuilt, it had been just you. You didn’t have a roommate your freshman year due to widespread last minute unenrollment, and being a creature of habit, you’d chosen a single your sophomore year too. There had never been a roommate to mold with, schedules to memorize or sync together. You’d always been able to do your own thing whenever you wanted to, though you hadn’t taken advantage of that, spending most of your nights holed up with a highlighter and a textbook. The point was that you could have if you wanted to, but you hadn’t, and now you certainly cannot.

”All the bad guys are dead?” Your daughter pauses on the sidewalk, her little head craning to the left curiously — a trait you think she’s absorbed from watching too much Dora. You wished it was that simple, that her theory was ever at all possible, but it wasn’t. So long as there was somebody good in this world, there would be somebody downright despicable to even it out.

“Not quite, goosebumps.” You smiled sympathetically, wishing that you could lie to her about this like you did about Santa Claus and the ice cream truck being for kids five and older on week days unless explicitly stated otherwise on the light up sign by the door. Your kid is smart, painfully so, but she’s not smart enough to know how to read yet, and that has saved you immensely in the four years that you’ve been watching her glow. You can’t lie about this though, because as much as it’s your job to be the parent now, to let her be a blissfully unaware kid while she still has a chance, you can’t let her be ignorant, because you’re not around all the time, and you’ve seen the end of life come from far smaller things than gun violence or suffocation. ”One of the good guys had an accident. I have to tell my friend Ms. Olivia about it. That’s why we stopped to get the papers, so that she can read them.”

”Oh, okay.” She nodded, a look of genuine pondering on her tiny face. “I can be like a mermaid all the way to the stop sign!” She proclaimed in the next minute, and you know in an instance what that means.

”We’re not going to be mermaids right now. We need to be humans and walk nicely on our feet.” You attempt to remind her, to reel her back into your control, but she’s a spritely little creature with persistently sticky hands, and you’ve lost the battle before you could even put up a fight. Her little body jumps and thrashes at your side, her little feet pretend glued together to make a mermaid tail. It’s adorable, truly it is, but you don’t have time for her tiny little jumps because her legs aren’t even half the length of yours yet. “Etta Lou, we’re walking right now.”

“You’re no fun, Mommy.” She tells you honestly, and you know that she probably means that as sincerely as she can comprehend. Regardless of her disheartened opinion, she does stop hopping at your side, walking at a snail's pace beside you, but it’s still faster than whatever her mermaid pace is.

“Mommy only has to be fun when we get to the park.“ You reasoned, earning yourself a deadpanned glare from the four-year-old. She doesn’t understand sarcasm in this stage of life, but she is a harsh critic with taunting jokes whenever her mood is soured; which it currently is. You don’t budge at her pouting, swinging her up onto your hip when you reach a cross walk, waiting for the red hand to stop flashing. “What number is that?” You redirect, pointing toward the blinking signal sign across the street.

“Seven!” Loretta grins, her feet kicking at your sides as she watches the seconds tick by, distracted from her abruptly cut-off game of walk the mermaid. “Now it says four!”

”I think I know somebody whose four.” You hum, looking hasilty to your left before you cross the street, Loretta seated on your hip contently, tiny hands balling up the fabric of your t-shirt. It’s purple, a light lilac, and it has the name of Loretta’s dance company on the front, a fundraiser from last year's recital — the first one you’d gotten to attend as a mother. It still maintains a spot in your weekly rotation, perfect for days at the park. “Is Daniel from your class four?”

“No, Mommy! I’m four!” She tells you, beaming brightly, her tiny hands on your cheeks, pulling your attention to her when she’s displeased to realize you’re actually paying attention to where you’re walking instead of her eyes that you still can’t believe you made.

”Oh, Charleigh’s four!” You feigned a look of realization, nodding your head in understanding that had your daughter shrieking, shaking her head and giggling manically, the sun tinting her cheeks pink even with the layer of sunscreen you lathered her in before you left the apartment.

“No! Etta’s four! Charleigh’s… how old’s Charleigh, Mommy?” She questioned, and you smiled, kissing her forehead as you climbed the stairs to the precinct, hoping you can keep her distracted until you get inside, knowing how much she’s being loving to tackle the stairs by herself and you don’t have time to painstakingly take each and every one if you stand a chance of getting to the park before the ice cream truck. You have the route memorized. It shows up at one-thirty, bells and whistles ringing, and if there’s nobody left in line for precisely three minutes, he pulls away and another one doesn’t come back until eleven the next day, which you think is actually so obscure considering that’s before most people have lunch ready for their kids.

“Charleigh’s five. We went to her birthday party at the aquarium, remember?” You brushed a hand down her hair, returning her to her feet when she strained, realizing that you’d entered a building she’d never gotten to explore before. “If I let go of your hand, do you run away?”

“No.” Loretta answered, shaking her head like she was shocked you’d think she’d run away from you. You scoff, but oblige, because one day the concepts of trust and consequences are going to click and your life is going to be exponentially easier for establishing these boundaries in any capacity right now.

You let her lead, staying three steps ahead of you because she’s come to learn that she can go that far without you beckoning her back to your side. She takes her independence seriously, but when she reaches the end of the main hallway and doesn’t know where she’s going, she freezes, standing still like a statue in the middle of the path as she looks at you for directions.

“Find the picture of a big angel.” You tell her helpfully, because left and right is still amongst the mountain of things left unlearned. It’s so easy to forget that everything in life is learned until you tell a kid to do something and they take you so literally that you can’t even be mad, or they just stare at you wide eyed until you give more explanation.

“Okay!” She giggles, spinning around, looking right, and then left. You think she missed it, didn’t catch it on the wall in the Sex Crimes hub, but then she points with one tiny little finger painted yellow, and she bolts off like a bolt of lightning, your pre discussed and established rules flying out of her head like they were never there at all. You have to admit that she’d done well, but you don’t say that as you chase after her.

“Etta!” You call, catching up to her when she pauses to closely analyze the picture of the angel, her little hands clasped in front of her as she swings on her feet, forward and backward repetitively.

“Was that a real life angel, Mommy?” She asks, not recognizing the look of exasperation on your face as you stand beside her, fixing the strap of her backpack over your shoulder. The files are zipped away inside, between a bottle of bubbles and two peanut butter sandwiches, no jelly. The change of clothes and spare pull-up in case of emergency keeps it from moving around, but you can only hope that nothing’s pressed or wrinkled a corner in any way.

”Some people think so. Ms. Kathy at school thinks so.” You hum, leading her farther into the precinct, Olivia’s door in sight. You’re about to park her at a bench down the hallway, in your line of sight from the office but out of the way of foot traffic when she gasps and bolts off again, her tiny hands knocking into colorful plastic before you can stop her. You sigh when tiny pieces crash to the floor, her little hands flying up near her head in alarm. “I’m so sorry!” You rush toward Amanda, trying to pull Loretta into your chest and away from the blonde’s desk, but she’s already sinking to the floor and letting her little fingers grip the pieces. You recognize it now. It’s a lego duplo set you’d gotten her for Christmas and have since accompanied and watched be rebuilt at least seventeen times.

“I can fix it!” She beamed, not phased by the embarrassment that flushes your cheeks, or the way you apologize to Amanda for her curiosity and lack of control.

“She has this set at home. It’s one of her favorites.” You explain before you bend down, “We can’t touch other people’s things without asking, Etta. Can you say sorry to Ms. Amanda?”

“Sorry for touchin’, Ms. Amanda.” Loretta frowns, because she knows you’re upset with her now. Apologies are an automatic trigger for tears right now, you hate this bashful, just barely self-aware stage. She knows enough to realize that she did something wrong, and you know she doesn’t understand what embarrassment feels like. but you assume that’s what’s coursing through her as she blushes, shyly raising her head to look at Amanda while she presses close to you.

“Well, that’s alright now.” Amanda brushed it off, because there was no way she could even be slightly annoyed when you were squatting beside her desk looking so horrified even she hoped the floor would open up beneath you and swallow you whole. “My little girl made that for me. Her name’s Jesse.”

“My names Etta Lou!” She grins, and you smile too, because there’s no way you can remain stone faced when she looks so proud of herself for getting it right.

“Loretta Louise, right, goosebumps?” You encourage, trying to drill it into her head that despite calling her Etta every day of her life since she’d first been pulled from your womb by forceps and gloved hands, her legal name was Loretta, and people had every right to call her such so she had to at least recognize it.

“Yeah! Loretta Louise, and this is my Mommy.” She points to you, and you laugh, standing up now. Loretta remains on the floor, still holding onto pieces of the scattered duplo.

“I’ve met your Mommy before, she’s very nice.” Amanda winks at you, and your thankful that your cheeks have maintained their warmth, not giving away how that single action makes your stomach flip.

“Yeah, Mommy’s nice. She plays fishies good.” Loretta nodded, looking down at the lego, piecing it together with ease. You need to look into getting her some more sets, you figure she must be growing bored of this one at home if she can put it together without even looking at the picture book you lay out next to her and flip through when she demands.

“How do you play fishies?” Amanda asks intrigued, leaning closer to Loretta, her hands on forearms on her knees as leverage.

Loretta’s head shoots up from the pile of legos, and she puckers her lips, framing two hands on either side of her mouth until she’s certain they look just like gills. “Like this!” She mumbles between puckered lips, and Amanda laughs. “Do it Mommy!”

“Mommy has to talk to Ms. Olivia.” You remind her, and Loretta pouts, putting the final piece back on the duplo. She holds it up to Amanda proudly, clearly pleased that her conscience was now free of guilt she couldn’t recognize without your help. “Say bye-bye to Ms. Amanda.”

”You can leave her here.” Amanda smiles, and you falter, not expecting her kindness. You’d done this all on your own for the last four years, and you mean that literally. When your daughter is not at school, she’s with you. You’ve changed every diaper, made every bottle, multi-tasked through every single day and overcompensated just to be Mom, Dad, Boss, and co-worker at the same time. It’s an odd feeling to have someone offer to watch Loretta for you, even if it’s only for five minutes when you’re across the room. “We can hang out while Mommy talks to Ms. Olivia, right?”

Loretta nodded enthusiastically, and you sighed, relenting because if this was the only break you got from constantly being ‘on’ all weekend with Loretta, you’d appreciate every second spent not putting on a mask of happiness and innocence.

“Be good for, Ms. Amanda.” You kiss Loretta's head before you stand up, the backpack still over your shoulder, and you’re almost certain Amanda’s snickering into her palm as she takes in the sight of you stalking toward Benson’s office with a plethora of Disney princesses on your back surrounded by a solid background of pink.

You’d known her for months now, seeing her anytime someone crawled down to the lab for an analysis or update. It wasn’t often Amanda was the one who came down to grovel and beg for you to find a way to get things done faster, but she’d been in enough times for this to feel like healthy, friendly conversation, if not the slightest bit more.

She’d never seen you out of professional attire, and she thinks the black biker shorts and purple company t-shirt is so amusing given the circumstances. You don’t know it, but whatever she’s saying about you has Loretta giggling into her palm, clamoring up into Amanda’s lap with no semblance of stranger danger.

“Cap?” You peak your head into the office, smiling at Olivia who sets her glasses down to give you her attention. “I just got the report back for the Davis case. As of right now, I’m ruling it a homicide. I’m still waiting for the DNA under her fingernails to come back. But the semen found in her underwear is a match to your perp.”

“You’re thinking multiple assailants.” Olivia mused, dropping the documents, now fully intrigued with your medical examination of the body and injuries attained.

“The marks on her neck are only possible if her attacker was behind her, but the lacerations on her belly were made from the front. Like she was pulled into the blade. There had to be at least two people there.” You conclude, because you finally have enough lab testing back to rule conclusively that foul play was involved by at least two suspects.

Olivia sighed, “Thank you.” Her eyebrows raised when you turned the backpack so that you could reach into the big pocket, pulling out the medical file that was thankfully in pristine condition. “You have the day?”

“Yup. I promised someone a trip to the park and a break from preschool. Apparently having someone map out your entire day is exhausting and she needed a break.” You nod out the window, toward the desks where you can see Amanda and your daughter. She’s curled up in the blonde’s lap, both of them with their backs toward you, looking at something on Rollins’ computer that you’re not close enough to decipher.

“Well, I certainly don’t want to keep you.” Benson’s eyes twinkled, and you know she misses these years with Noah even if they hadn’t been that long ago. Her eyes trail to the framed picture on her desk, one from Noah’s sixth birthday, and you only know that because it was her phones background and you’d seen it down at the lab last month when she’d dropped by with Fin.

“The second set of DNA should be back by next week. The labs backed up, and before you tell me to rush it, I already did. The original send back date was three weeks out.” You tell Olivia, and she nods thankfully, before you leave, stalking back toward Amanda and Loretta who aren’t aware of your soft footsteps.

“That’s Jesse’s first birthday party. She had a strawberry cake.” Amanda tells your daughter, and you can finally make out that they’re looking at pictures of her daughter, bright blue eyes and blonde hair evidence of their direct relation.

“Mommy likes strawbaby cake.” Loretta tells her, and you laugh, giving away your presence behind them. She spins around, grinning brightly at you.

“Mommy, that’s Jesse. Ms. Amanda said she’s three! That’s as many as Daisy.” She tells you proudly, and you can tell that although Amanda has no clue who Daisy is, she understands the sentiment of what you’re trying to get across. “Ms. Amanda’s gonna bring her to the park to play bubbles.”

“I think Ms. Amanda still has a lot of work to do. She’s super important, they’d have to close down the park if she went home because she keeps it safe. Jesse can’t come today, goosebumps.” You tell your daughter, and Amanda is surprised at how easily you cover for her, because she absolutely would’ve agreed if you didn’t fill the silence before she had a chance. Damned if she was still on the clock, it had been far too long since Jesse had a playmate who wasn’t a spoiled brat or Noah, and she didn’t think Benson quite had the looks you do, but she didn’t say that part out loud.

“Do you keep the banana store safe too?” Loretta asks, and you smile softly, taking her into your arms when she least expects you to just pluck her up. She hums, surprised, but settles into your embrace comfortably.

“The grocery store. They have more than just bananas, Etta.” You remind her, and she makes a look of realization, nodding her head.

Amanda didn’t miss a beat, reaching out to tickle Loretta’s belly. “I do keep the grocery store safe. I practically keep all of New York safe.”

”Even Mommy and me and Jesse?” She asks, eyes wide. You smile, wondering what your life would be like if you didn’t have her to see the world through. You can’t remember what it was like to be amazed by every little thing and see the world as something kind and ever giving, but Loretta is living in that moment, and she’s showing you thinks that as an adult you’ve become blind to.

“Even Mommy, and you, and Jesse.” Amanda smiles, “Now, I think you and Mommy have somewhere to be. The parks waiting!”

“Bye-bye, Ms. Amanda!” Your daughter needs no further guidance, waving dutifully at Amanda before she wraps her arms around your neck, apparently deeming her legs out of commission for the time being.

“Bye-bye, Etta Lou.” There’s always an underlying twang of southern hospitality in Amanda’s charming tone, but there’s something utterly delectable in the way your daughters name rolls off her tongue so smoothly and sweetly. There’s a rhythmic pattern in the way the two names fall off her tongue, sounding so perfectly cohesive it remind you of why you’d given her this name four years ago. You’d liked the way it sounded then, but it feels like you’re hearing it in a whole new way right now.

“Thank you.” You say again, because you’ll never be able to express enough how much it’s meant to you for her to show Loretta so much kindness and patience even when she’d come in like a bulldozer.

“She’s a cute kid.” Amanda tells you, and you think that’ll get a reaction out of your daughter, she’s ever the ham, drawn to compliments as if you’d deprived her of them her entire life, but she’s otherwise absorbed with waving to Olivia through the window, and you can only assume Olivia’s waving back because Loretta changes her strategy, pulling some kind of funny face as she stretches out her lips.

“She’s free.” You tease, and Amanda knows that’s all that it is. Even if she hadn’t known about your daughter before this moment, never having a reason to bring it up before or even begin to think you had anyone at home or specifically who it was, but now that she had seen you with Loretta, she knows you love her with your entire being.

“Oh, I’m good with two.” Amanda laughs, dropping her hands to her belly, and that’s when you take in her rounded tummy and swollen knuckles. There’s an undeniable water weight to her face, her nose just slightly contorted to where it’s noticeable if you know what you’re looking for. That’s why she hasn’t been down to the lab. She’s playing her cards right and getting literally anyone else to go down for her.

“Congratulations.” You coo, your head tilting, melting at her admission. There’s no ring on her finger, you don’t even know why you’re looking, but it’s an automatic response and you don’t recognize your doing it until you breathe a sigh of relief at the empty search. “Ms. Amanda has a baby in her belly.” You tell Loretta, who finally looked away from the window and turned her attention back to you and Amanda.

“Is it a girl baby?” Loretta asks, because her obsession is girl babies, not boy babies. She’d come home saying she doesn’t like boy babies a month ago, and after a very confused conversation with her teacher, you’d come to find out another little girl in her class is expecting a baby brother, and it was about the end of the world when she found out it was not going to be a sister the Sunday before school resumed after easter break. You’d been trying to work that out of her head since, but apparently this girl and her unborn baby brother have enough tension to still be a conversational point weeks later.

“It is a girl.” Amanda smiles, and Loretta nods.

“Park now Mommy.” She whines, evidently bored with the conversation now that it didn’t revolve around cake flavors or the lego duplo sets Amanda has back at the apartment for Jesse.

You say goodbye to Amanda, hoping that you can find another reason to stop by the precinct sometime soon.

A week and a half later, you have the second set of DNA results back, and just as you’d expected to be the case, the results were not a match to the suspect already in custody. There was good news attached to your break in the case however, and that good news came in the form of his name already being in the system for petty crime at nineteen.

You manage through the precinct a lot quicker without your daughter, but it feels like something’s missing as you trek through the halls holding onto the manila folder containing your lab reports. You’d come straight from the lab, a crossbody bag slung over your shoulder and your professional attire dampening your radiant personality.

Your eyes sought to find Amanda, but she didn’t turn up at her desk or anywhere in sight as you walked to Olivia’s office. You didn’t want to say you were disappointed, but you’d be lying if you said a twang of disappointment didn’t shoot through you at her absence. For a moment, you wondered if everything was okay with the baby, and with Jesse, but then you remembered that you don’t know her well enough to be concerning yourself with her personal affairs even if she had spared five minutes of her day to show your child kindness and that was more than anyone had done for you in a long time.

“Here’s the other report.” You tell Olivia, and she hums. Her energy is depleted, her tired eyes looking up from yet another pile of documents that you’re sure need her immediate attention because everything in these lines of work do. “That second set of DNA is to Forrest McClain.”

“Thank you, really. You didn’t have to walk these over.” Olivia couldn’t express her gratitude effectively enough, but you wave her off regardless.

“It’s no problem. It would’ve been another handful of hours, and your case is getting colder the longer you waste time. Is everything okay though? The mood in here is kind of… more suffocating than usual.” You were closet with Benson, that’s just what came with the territory given you were the Lead ME and she was the Captain. You worked together often, either at the scene or through emails from your lab. It wasn’t abnormal for you to be checking in.

“Rough case with ICE and Amanda.” Olivia sighed, “She’s taking it… not well.” Olivia grimaces and you sympathize, knowing that any case emotional enough to rattle Benson is never a good sign, but there’s something that you can recognize that Olivia can’t — raging emotions while pregnant. You’d never pin it against the Captain, but she can’t even begin to understand what it feels like to have your world turned upside down when you already feel like all your emotions are one sneeze from shooting out of your popped and swollen belly button.

“She still around?” You asked, and Olivia smiled, nodding her head and informing you that Amanda was attempting to sulk her sadness away in the break room.

You stopped by the vending machine before you found the break room down the hall, exactly where Olivia had told you it would be across from the main interrogation room. You knocked on the doorframe before entering, watching Amanda with careful eyes.

She sat hunched over the table, her head in her hands, tears evident on her cheeks even though she tried to hide any evidence of her emotional state with her hands, the apples of her cheeks concealed by swollen fingers. She’s wearing a blazer, black, and slacks of the same shade. The monotone outfit is surprise from her, but it makes her figure pop, the definition in her bump undeniable even if the sleek outfit does it’s best to slim her down when shadows hit her right.

“I heard you’re having a rough time.” You start,and Amanda laughs humorlessly, scrubbing the evidence of her meltdown off of her cheeks to instead glance at you curiously. “Mind if I join you? Thursdays are storytime days at daycare, Etta won’t mind getting another hour of Hansel and Gretel.”

Amanda nodded, motioning to the chair at her side. You smile softly, stalking near enough to drop the snacks you’d purchased in front of her before you grabbed the back of the chair, pulling it out just enough to get your body into it.

“My cravings with Etta were insane. I was eating all the time, from the first trimester to the last. Fritos were an unexpected delicacy, and you need something sweet to finish up, so I grabbed some donuts. You don’t strike me as a chocolate person.”

Amanda smiled, reaching for the bag of Fritos. She pulled it open like she hadn’t eaten at all that day, and you grinned. “Not a chocolate person.” She confirms, and you hum, knowing you were correct but glad to have solid confirmation. “I was gonna take her. I would’ve. ICE… Stone made a deal, somehow. He got her back with her mother, but if that didn’t happen, I would’ve taken her.” Amanda rambles, and you’re still at a loss for most of the details, but you have enough information to see the full picture. Your heart breaks for her a little bit, but you know that most of her let down has to do with the fact that she’s months away from meeting her baby and at this state, everything feels colossal. That doesn’t negate her want to open her home. You’re sure that whether she was pregnant or not she would’ve wanted to help however she could, but the current state of her womb doesn’t help matters.

“What happened to two being enough for you?” You tease, because you take Amanda for the type to rely on humor in dark times, and it doesn’t fail you. Her shoulders jump with her inhale, a breathy sound floating off of her tongue that’s not quite a genuine laugh, but does something to lighten her mood at least.

“No, I… I’d be okay with three. I’ve thought about three more this week than I have in my life, and I’d be okay with it.” She breathes out, and her eyes flicker up to yours. You think there’s something more there, in her unspoken words, but you’re not sure.

“And there will be plenty of time for three. But, this girl has a Mom. It may not be what you want to hear, but it’s a good thing when too many people have the best thing of a child at heart. It’s a good thing that you care enough to have yourself all worked up in a break room. You impacted that girls life, Amanda. You know how I know that? Because Etta spent a fraction of the time with you and you’re all she wants to talk about. What’s Ms. Amanda’s favorite color? Does Ms. Amanda let Jesse have ice cream on Saturday? Ms. Amanda has legos on her desk, Mommy, you can put legos on yours! So, thank you for that. You’re the reason there’s astronaut legos crowding my already minimal desk space now.” You tease, and Amanda smiles wide, finally beginning to crack, to come down from the high of overwhelming sadness.

“I’ve never… in all of my years on this job, I’ve never met a kid I connected with like that. It scared me. It scares me to think that there’s so little keeping that from being Jesse, Etta, this baby. One wrong move, and who do they have? You have somebody at home?” Amanda asks with tears gleaming in her eyes.

“No.” You shake your head, breathing deeply, because if you hadn’t had the same panicked fear rush through you a million times, you’d be somebody else. “No, it’s just me and Etta. It’s always been just me and Etta.”

“It’s just me and Jesse.. or, it’s just me, Jesse, and this baby.” Amanda’s hand falls to her bump, and you frown.

“Well, then how about we change that?” You perked up, reaching a hand out toward her. “Give me your phone.”

“Why?” Amanda frowns, but she complies with your request regardless, reaching into her back pocket and pulling out her phone, swiping it open past a picture of her and Jesse on Halloween.

“If your girls need someone and you’re not around, my contract hours end at four unless I’m on call and needed at a scene.” You tell her simply, taking her phone and putting your number into it’s contacts, feeling bold, uncharacteristically so. “It’s good if you need anything too, you know. Maybe some pickles. Pickles were what I craved most.”

”God, pickles sound good.” Amanda grounds and you giggle, glad to see that you’ve roused her from her fit at least temporarily. “Here, give me your phone. Maybe we can get the girls together for pizza one night.”

”Loretta’s only stipulation will be that we order garlic bread too.” You tell her, because it’s easier to say yes if you use your child as a buffer, and Amanda laughs wetly at your flushed state. You hand your phone over the second after, giggling when Amanda makes a sound of awe at your home screen, a picture from two years ago with Etta passed out in her laundry basket.

“I’m not…I’m not reaching if I ask you to dinner without the girls, am I?” Amanda asked after a beat, her hands still holding her phone, like she’s trying to delay giving it back and letting the conversation end.

You smile timidly, your bottom lip bitten as you glance down at the table, feeling your stomach churn with butterflies at her proposition. “No… no you wouldn’t be reaching.” You admitted, and Amanada nodded, smiling fondly.

”Good. Okay.” Amanda smiled, nodding her head a bit dumbly. You giggled, taking your phone back and sliding it into your pocket.

“Okay.” You mimicked, and Amanda’s eyes rolled fondly, her cheeks tinting pink. “I’ll text you later?”

“I’ll be waiting.” She sang, and you laughed, shaking your head as you stood up from the table, beginning to back out of the squad room with one last glance at the donuts and fritos you left on the table for her. “Bye, Amanda.”

Amanda waved, her mouth full of the curved and salty chips. You laughed softly, backing out of the room without another word, because you’re sure if you said anything else, like that Amanda looks good with her hair falling around her face, not contained by a hair tie, she’d have kept you in that squad room forever and neither one of you ever wouldn’t gotten back to your girls.

At eight o’clock, after an eventful dinner time and bath time, you’d finally gotten Loretta down for the night. You reached for your phone after you’d cleared the dishes and prepared her lunchbox for the morning, eager to text Amanda, but she’d apparently texted you first, a notification lighting up your home screen.

You grinned at the simple text that said ‘Home’, but what really made your lips pull was the selfie she’d taken with Jesse over dinner, which looked to be spaghetti and meatballs. Jesse was splatted with tomato sauce, her blonde hair twinged pink from where little fingers had rubbed saunders into thin strands. She’s probably fighting a losing battle in the bath with the toddle right now, but you text back anyways, a selfie of yourself in front of the three sippy cups you’d washed the daycare requires two cups of water for all children at the start of the day, and Etta had a specific cup in mind for dinner tonight.

Amanda doesn’t get back to you until almost ten o’clock, telling you that Jesse had decided to find a second wind somewhere between bath time and the third book they’d read, so she’d been spending the last hour and a half trying to redo their entire bedtime routine. It wasn’t fully formed yet, but the start of something new was upon you after years of no change.

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