#go forth and learn children....

[readwritealldayallnight]

Part seven of ‘Bird Watching’ aka hot construction worker Simon x single mom reader

The fight happens on a day like any other, a random Tuesday in early March

Stepping outside as you clutch your baby close to your chest, you’d almost expected to find the earth to have stopped spinning, to see birds dropping dead to the ground midflight, for dogs to bark incessantly at seemingly nothing at all, hell maybe even for the sun to have disappeared from the sky entirely

But no, everything was still the same, the world went on, the earth kept spinning, and life continued, even in spite of that heavy feeling in your chest telling you that nothing would ever be the same again, not when your world had just seemingly slipped out from under you

What else were you to think after learning what you’d just been told?

You’d sat in that office for far too long, the bright murals on the walls more obnoxious than ever, smiling paintings of woodland creatures mocking you with every second that ticked by, your mind unable to wrap itself around the words being thrown at you, seeing as they were so contrary to everything you knew, so opposite to the man you’d come love

“I’m sorry but- I think you’re wrong. There’s- there’s got to be more to this that I’m not understanding. It doesn’t- this doesn’t make any sense.” You’d mumbled, staring into space as though caught in a daze, certain you’d wake up from this dream sooner than later and laugh about it in the morning, though with every pitiful look the assistant director sent your way, you were worried this was one nightmare you wouldn’t be able to pinch yourself out of

“Hon, I really wish I was wrong too.” She said, rubbing what you’re sure she intended to be a soothing hand across your back, though everything felt too hot right now, too claustrophobic, and you were resisting the urge to flinch from her touch.

“You must be.” You practically whispered to yourself. It had been at least twenty minutes of this now, going back and forth in disbelief despite the paper trail before you

“What about that small chance that I’m not, though? What if this is what’s happening?” She added, pulling her hand back and angling herself to better face you, her expression still pinched into that look of pity and concern you wanted to smack off of her, despite knowing she was speaking with the best of intentions

“What? That he’s trying to trap me?! Has been from the beginning? There’s no way, nuh-uh.” You shook your head adamantly, refusing to believe that there was any possibility of something so ludicrous being true, of being your reality, your life

“Please just- just hear me out?” She all but pleaded, glancing towards the closed door as you heard the sound of laughter echoing down the hall, parents still filtering in and out, picking up their children like any other day, unaware of the drama unfolding in the office. “We always thought it was kind of strange at first that he wasn’t listed on her birth certificate when you submitted it with all your other paper work but- we really didn’t give it much more thought. Really didn’t think twice when he added himself to the list of contacts after you hadn’t put him down, because he told us you’d just forgotten to. I mean from the moment he walked in here he’s always called himself your husband, and you his wife, always claimed to be Rosie’s dad.”

At this point your eyes are squeezed shut, unable to differentiate between what you’re hearing and what you know to be true in your heart. Or at least, what your heart desperately wants to believe is true- your confidence slipping with every word she speaks

“And when he insisted a few months ago that 75% of Rosie’s daycare fees be charged directly to his account, we-”

“What?” You all but hiss at her, eyes snapping open in shock

“So you didn’t know about that either.” She mumbles, cheeks reddening in apparent embarrassment, whether for your or herself you’re unsure, though you’re certain you’re starting to see red the longer you sit here. “I mean, is it even all that surprising at this point? You just got done telling me he’s been trying to have you financially depend on him from the get go.”

“I said he’d offered to help me with the bills when we first started dating. Not that he tried to entrap me!” You bite back, unable to feel sorry yet that you’re being so short with her when this isn’t her fault, right now you need someone to be upset with, someone to take your feelings out on, and unfortunately she happens to be the unlucky messenger caught in the crossfire.

“I’m sure that’s how he made it sound, but hon, I’m just seeing red flag after red flag here. It starts with small ‘favours’ like that, then he’s telling you that you don’t have to work anymore, that you can rely on him. And asking you to move in so soon-”

“It- it isn’t ‘so soon’. We’re already practically living together, we- we’re in love. This- this isn’t- I don’t-” you cut off yourself off, unsure what you’d even say at this point. You can feel a headache coming on, your mind running a mile a minute, you wouldn’t be surprised to find steam coming off of you you’re feeling so heated. You’re beyond confused now, your heart knows that Simon’s never led you astray before, never give you a single reason to doubt him or think of him as dishonest. But you can’t ignore what you’re hearing either, as contrary as it might be to what you’ve known to be true, the facts are set out before you

“I know you love him.” She says softer this time, eyes trying to convey a comfort you don’t want right now. “But I can’t lie, I’m worried now. Like you said, this could all be some very strange misunderstanding. But from where I’m sitting babe, it seems like he’s been lying to you for months now, if not from the start. And the only reasons I can think of him doing that, aren’t very good ones.”

“I just don’t-” Your words are cut off when a knock rasps against the office door, both of you glancing over in time to see the door open.

“Hey Emma, Rosie’s mum hasn’t picked her up yet and I have to clean the room- oh! There you are!” One of Rosie’s educators says, stepping into the room with none other than your baby sat against her hip

You can feel the tension momentarily leave your body as Rosie spots you, her neutral expression turning into one of pure joy as she realizes her mama’s here, tiny arms reaching out towards you as she starts to flail in her teacher’s arms, sweet little coos erupting from her as she all but tries to leap towards you

“We were just chatting. Sorry to have kept you waiting with her. Hope she wasn’t too much trouble.” You say, standing from your chair and taking Rosie into your arms, feeling her lay her little head against you as she makes herself comfortable in your hold, a comfort you desperately need yourself right now

“Her? Trouble? Never. She had a great day today.” The teacher smiles politely, excusing herself to likely go finish her closing duties, certainly eager to get out of here now that you’ve got Rosie off her hands

“Maybe we could-”

“I’m gonna get this one home.” You cut Emma off before she can start, readjusting your hold on Rosie as you take a steadying breath. You want nothing more than to get out of here, to pretend that this never happened, though you aren’t sure you’re ready yet for what’s certainly about to happen at home. “Thanks for the chat. I’ll think about what you said and- I’ve got some talking to do with Simon now, I suppose.”

Perhaps by some small miracle, Simon ends up having to work late that night, shooting you a text to let you know that he’s sorry he won’t be home for supper and to please give Rosie a goodnight kiss from him if he isn’t back by her bedtime

You don’t reply to his message

You feel numb, as though this were something that was happening to someone else, a story you might overhear people whispering about while in line at the grocery store, or even an all too cheesy reality TV show storyline, certainly not something that’s happening in your home, to your family

You feel akin to a ghost, a spectre simply going through the motions as you float through the flat, following Rosie’s bedtime routine with nothing more than muscle memory to guide you from step A to B

She’s nodding off in your arms before you know it, blissfully unaware as to the turmoil happening in her mum’s mind, the fight that’s likely to ensue when her dad comes home, none the wiser as you lay her down in her crib for the night, a soft kiss planted on her forehead for Simon’s sake because as conflicted as you are, his love for her is undeniable

If anything, that’s the very thing that has you feeling so confused right now, is because you know Simon loves you, both you and Rosie, and so everything that’s just been revealed to you is so utterly contradicatory you can’t even begin to try and wrap your brain around it

He’s never been anything short of wonderful to you, willing to bend over backwards to make you smile from the very moment you met

The Simon you know wouldn’t lie to you, wouldn’t hide things from you, wouldn’t try to entrap you in any way like Emma or anyone else might try to insinuate

And yet…

Shutting her door quietly, you make your way down the hall, glancing at the piles of boxes that have only recently made a home for themselves along the walls of your flat

Moving boxes, the majority of them being from Simon’s own place across town that he hasn’t been to in months, as you prepare to move into the new house in the upcoming weeks

A house that you love, a house that you dreamt about, a house you can picture becoming a home, and yet still, a house he bought without asking you first, apparently a common trend

Plopping yourself down on the couch, rubbing furiously at your tired eyes as you try in vain to make sense of this conflicting situation

Because the Simon you know, isn’t capable of lying to you

The Simon you know has never once failed to fulfill a promise to you, never ceases to exceed your wildest dreams and expectations time and time again, always coming through for you in every way you’ve ever wanted and never knew you needed

The Simon you know is one who works harder than anyone you’ve ever met before, but didn’t hesitate for a split second to drop everything when Rosie had her first runny nose, fussing over her incessantly until you were both sure it was nothing more than a case of the sniffles

The Simon you know never lets you go through a late night feeding alone, getting up out of bed with you every single time her cries reach your ears, or sometimes insisting you stay asleep while he either goes to retrieve her for you or feeds her a premade bottle himself

The Simon you know doesn’t complain when the kitchen sink springs a leak after he’s had a long day at work, but rather angles Rosie’s high chair so she can see him working as he talks her through every step of the repair, teasing her about starting to pull her weight around he house as she giggles

The Simon you know pretends to grumble when you insist on applying sunscreen to his face on particularly sunny days, but secretly loves every second you spend so close him, fingers tracing his skin and taking care of him as delicately as you would with Rosie

The Simon you know shamelessly carries the diaper bag over his shoulder wherever you go, proudly wears Rosie on his chest in the baby sling any chance he gets, and most of all, never fails to hold your heart in his hand no matter how full they may already be

Tonight however? You can’t help the way your heart seemingly drops when you hear the telltale sound of keys at the front door

Simon is home

“Birdie?” His deep, Manchester accent calls out from around the corner. You’re hardly in control of your body as you rise to your feet and all but float towards him, torn between needing his comfort during such a confusing time, but equally fighting off the hurt and skepticism you’re beginning to feel

“Hi Si.” You meekly respond, coming into his view just as he’s toeing off his mud-caked boots, his eyes lighting up once he sees you

“Hi love.” He replies, stepping closer until you’re within his reach, naturally falling against his chest as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head, your eyes closing as you breathe in his scent. “Rosie asleep yet?”

“Put her down just a couple minutes ago.” You answer, arms snaking around his torso to embrace him tightly, unable to deny the hot tears beginning to prickle at the corner of your eyes.

“M’sorry I missed bedtime.”

“S’alright. Gave her your good night kiss for you. And I saved you supper. Just some chicken and salad but-”

“‘Jus’ chicken and salad’ is already more than I deserve for coming home late to my girls. Thank you, birdie.”

You know your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes when he pulls back to look at you, pulling yourself out of his hold to head towards the kitchen, his footsteps right behind yours

“How was your day? Not workin’ you too hard are they?” He asks, opening the fridge and pulling out the plate you’d saved for him

“No, work was fine.” You answer, awkwardly rubbing your arms as you lean against the wall, poking the edge of one of his moving boxes labeled simply as ‘stuff’ with your socked toes. “Actually, my day got kind of weird towards the end, if I’m being honest.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?” Simon asks you, peering at you over his shoulder as he gets ready to reheat his food

“Well I uh- I went to pick up Rosie from nursery and wound up talking to Emma. You know, the assistant director?”

If you didn’t know Simon so well, didn’t know his mind and his body language like the back of your hand by now, you might have missed the oh so subtle way he tensed up for no more than a split second, his large frame perfectly still as he held his breath for no longer than a blink of the eye, but you saw it

“‘Course. How is she?” He asks as casually as he can, though he pointedly isn’t meeting your gaze anymore

“She’s fine. Busy as usual. But anyways, I got chatting with her in the first place because I was just letting her know about the move soon. Wanted to update our address.” You add, waving a hand towards the many boxes dotted around the place

“Ah, right. Smart o’ you to get a head start on tha’.” Simon chides in, still not looking at you as he goes about grabbing himself silverware and a drink, keeping his head down the whole time

“I thought so too.” You say, pushing yourself off the wall to step closer to him, feeling your heart begin to pick up pace as dare to say what you’re too afraid to confirm. “Also figured I would go ahead and update Rosie’s contact information, while I was at it. Was well overdue adding you.”

At this point Simon has stopped moving entirely, his back turned to you as he faces the kitchen sink, not a word to be said as you continue

“But then she told me that you were already on there.”

Nearly a full five seconds pass by in complete and utter silence, before Simon slowly spins himself around to face you

“Oh.” Is all he can apparently manage to say at first, his face pulled into an expression you aren’t overly familiar with, eyes glancing everywhere but at your face. “Did you somehow add me and forget?”

“That’s what I thought at first too.” You elaborate, wanting to give him the benefit of the doubt, despite knowing that there isn’t a logical explanation for the second half of what you’re about to say. “But it was strange because she told me that she remembers having a conversation with you, after our first visit. Said that you were the one to add yourself.”

Again, Simon seems to forfeit to what he knows best in moments of high stress, a painful silence that echoes louder than any shouts ever could

“Things got really strange though, the more she told me. Like how you’ve been paying the daycare bills behind my back.”

“Love, I-”

“What was she talking about, Simon? Please tell me she was wrong.” You interrupt him, feeling your cheeks begins to burn with untamed emotions you haven’t dared to let out yet, the stinging at your lash line growing stronger as hot tears threaten to topple over

“No. She wasn’t wrong, but-”

“What?” You interrupt him, trying your best to keep your volume low for Rosie’s sake, though you can tell your emotions are already starting to get the better of you

“Look birdie, I- I’m not ready to talk about this yet. Let’s leave it alone for tonight, yeah?” Simon says as coolly as he can manage, though you notice the way his jaw ticks, how he runs his hand through his short hair as he only does when frustrated

“What the hell does that mean? You’re not ready to talk about what? Simon what is going on here?” You ask him, feeling yourself becoming light headed as the conversation takes the turn you were fearing it would, his words failing to reassure the uncertainty brewing within you

“Love it’s not- there isn’t anythin’ going on. I’m only jus’ trying to take care of you. So please, let’s just leave it.”

“No, Si. I can’t just ‘leave it’. Not when I’m finding out that you’ve been lying to me for who knows how long!” You insist, reaching behind you until you feel a stack of the moving boxes hit your calf, sitting down on the large box as you look up at Simon across the room. “What am I supposed to-”

“I said enough! Just drop it, please birdie. It’s nothin’.” He snaps at you, going to slam a hand down on the kitchen counter but catching himself at the last second, glancing down the hall towards Rosie’s closed door as he shakes his head to himself

“No! I’m not just going to drop this, Simon. How am I meant to know that you haven’t hidden anything else from me?”

“Oh, because you don’t hide anythin’?” He asks, stepping closer to you while trying to keep his voice down, lest you both wake the baby up

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Christs sake, I’m talkin’ ’bout Rosie’s father. What else would we be talkin’ ‘bout?” He admits, throwing his hands up in the air in defeat, coming to sit on the boxes across from you

“Are you kidding me?” You ask, narrowing your eyes at him. “We’ve gone over this before, it was a fucking one night stand Simon! Rosie doesn’t have a father, because I don’t know who her fucking father is! Is that what you want to hear? That I dont know the stranger who knocked me up after sleeping with him one goddamn time?”

“I don’t know what happened because we never talk bout it!” He replies, one foot incessantly tapping agains the tiled floor as he struggles to keep his cool. “There’s some bloke out there who could show up one day and take everythin’ I’ve worked for, so bloody fuckin’ right I’m concerned! How could you not know who he is? Might not know his name, but you could pick him out of a lineup surely? Describe him?”

“Are you seriously that insecure right now? You’re feeling threatened by a ghost? Because that’s all he was Simon, was a fucking ghost! It was a goddamn Halloween party. Every single person in that was wearing a mask, including me!” You argue back to him. “You want me to try and describe some tall guy wearing all black and a stupid skull mask? Is that it? How he didn’t even take it off while we were having sex? How he only wanted me to call him Ghost the entire goddamn night? What does it matter, Simon?“

By the end of your rant, you’re left huffing and puffing, borderline seeing red as you can’t believe of all things, this is what Simon would feel the need to bring up at a time like this

You’re expecting him to argue back, waiting on him to retaliate with whatever other ugly words you’re going to throw at each other tonight, the first proper fight you’ve ever had

And yet, he’s sat perfectly still, eyes locked on your own though it’s as if he isn’t quite seeing you

Rather, he looks like he’s seen a ghost

“Simon?”

He remembers that night almost too perfectly

Exactly half a year since his forced retirement, Simon was all too eager to get through the last of his ‘highly recommended’ therapy sessions

The older gentleman he met with once a month wasn’t all that bad, to his credit, had some decent stories to share and never pressed Simon to fill in the silence when he wasn’t in the mood to do so

But he was still a shrink at the end of the day, wasn’t he? Still wanted the former Lieutenant to talk about his feelings and his past and his thoughts and his nightmares and just about everything Simon would rather keep under heavily guarded lock and key

Even if he never insisted on making Simon spill his guts the way he might have imagined a shrink was obligated to do in their mandated fifty minute sessions, he’d still somehow managed to get the younger man to open up to the smallest degree, learned as much as he was willing to share within these bleak walls

Though he held no ill feelings towards him nor his profession, Simon couldn’t help but glance at the clock above the shrink’s head at least every other minute, looking forward to having his Saturday afternoons back to himself soon as this last appointment was done and over with

“Simon?” He remembers the old man saying, catching his wandering eye. “Did you hear me?”

“Sorry. Go on.” The muscular man had said, crossing his arms across his chest as he’d fought to give the man before him his full attention.

“I was only just saying,” he kindly went on, a soft smile appearing below his white moustache. “If if was something you might be open to exploring, I don’t think it would be the worst idea if you wanted to wear the mask out in public again. One last time.”

“Why would I do tha’?” Simon had questioned.

“Please correct me if I’m wrong, but you’ve spoken before about feeling conflicted between who you used to be six months ago, and who you’re having to become now post-retirement. A man with a name and a job and obligations. Whereas for over a decade, you were certain you’d never be anything more than this Ghost fellow you’ve mentioned. This man without a name, without a face. Am I right on this?”

“Suppose so.” He grumbled, shifting in his spot, the softness of the cushions around him a mundane luxury he was still growing used to feeling.

“You’ve also said that the honourable discharge came as a bit of a surprise, an unexpected end to this Ghost, as it were. Something, or someone, you never had the chance to truly mourn.” The shrink had gone on, gesticulating his pale, wrinkled hands with every word he spoke in Simon’s direction.

On his end, Simon could only manage to nod in response, taking in the man’s perspective

“The mask was something pivotal for you, something you held on to without fail for years, Simon. Years. It’s understandably difficult to be told you would no longer going to need this thing you had grown to, dare I say, depend on? Something that kept you separate from the rest of the world? A world you were being thrown back into without a choice?”

The older man had allowed for a beat of silence as Simon absorbed his words, only keeping his eyes on him as any indication now that he was still listening

“Now, I know you’d said that you haven’t put the mask back on since. We also evidently can’t replicate the sort of environment that Ghost used to live in. But if you wanted to put the mask back on for one night. If you wanted to put the mask back on for just a moment and perhaps allow yourself to make peace with this change in your life, to say goodbye to Ghost and give yourself the chance to fully become Simon, well, tonight might not be the worst night to try and do so.”

As if he needed his own shrink reminding him that it was Halloween that night

He remembers the odd few pumpkins lined up outside the apartments he’d passed on his walk home from the session

Remembers the posters for discounted costumes and reminders to check your children’s candy dotted along brick walls here and there

Hell he’d even had a group of giggling trick or treaters run past him at one point that evening

Staring at the handful of boxes he still couldn’t bring himself to unpack yet, Simon sat ins his flat entirely too long that night with a drink in hand, staring at the very one he knew held the thing he woulnd’t have been caught dead without less than a yer ago, now ruffed between some folded shirts

The more drinks he got in his system, the less ludicrous the doc’s idea had sounded to him

Perhaps he should don the mask one last time, if only to see what it felt like to have his second skin back on him again, to be Ghost for only just a moment more

He had been tearing the cardboard box open before he knew it, ripping through clothing until his hands met the familiar feeling of the skull beneath his fingertips

He hadn’t bothered looking in a mirror or anything dramatic of the sort as he slipped the material over his head, not feeling the need to glance at the face he once relished in knowing was the last one countless had ever seen in their lives

Unsure of how he felt but knowing he didn’t want to sit still, Simon had gone back out onto the streets, the sun having set long ago and trick or treaters certainly tucked into bed by now with lollipop coloured tongues and wrappers awry

He knew he wanted to keep drinking that night, seeing as it was the only way he could fall asleep most nights, and needn’t go very far before following the noise of the nearest pub, only just around the corner from his measly flat

Though the place had been crowded that night, packed with the young and old all dressed in differing levels to commitment to their costumes, Simon was pleased to see he could still part a crowd with ease as he’d slunk his way over to the busy bar

The music had been damn near defeaning, and the heat from all the dancing bodies was poignant, his senses kicking into overdrive as he fought the urge to turn hightail and head back to the solace of his empty four walls

The barkeep hadn’t even bat an eye at Ghost’s appearance as he’d made his way over and took his order, making haste to keep up with the demanding crowd

What had the doc said, again? That he ought to be taking this time to say goodbye to Ghost and welcome in Simon?

Pure rubbish, as far as he was concerned

He would always be Ghost in a way, wouldn’t he? Mask or not, his hands would still be stained with someone’s blood, his eyes will still be ones that witnessed death for a living, his heart would still beat to a broken drum, he would always be a ghost of a man on way or another

And so, no, he likely would not have said goodbye to Ghost that night, had he had much of a chance to continue thinking about it

But then again, fate has a way of making things fall into place right when they need to, doesn’t it?

For Simon had only just received his drink when a young woman had suddenly come crashing into his side, her hands unabashedly coming to grasp onto his bicep as she leaned her weight into him

“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” She’d said, loud enough to be heard over the music, glancing not at Ghost, but rather at someone who’d come to stand just behind him

Prepared to swing around in his seat and size up the person behind him, Simon’s eyes had gotten caught halfway there, when they landed on the stranger holding onto him

Donned in a flowing white dress with long billowing sleeves, a single red rose tucked behind her ear to match the red painted across her enticing lips, Simon was surprised to find an almost perfect Christine from the Phantom of the Opera stood before him, though perhaps more so that the young woman was also wearing the Phantom’s half mask across her face

“You’re expecting me to believe that this is your boyfriend?” A gruff voice had spoken out from the din of the crowd, Simon’s gazing finally landing on a poor imitation of a superhero, the lad clearly wasted on one too many drinks as he tried stepping closer to the mystery woman

Simon’s gaze had fixed back upon the woman’s face, eyes locking for the first time that night, the music in the room suddenly no longer so intolerable, nor the heat so unbearable, not when she was looking at him like that

Simon was smart enough to catch onto what was going on here in time to step in, cutting into the man’s attempt to squeeze closer to the young lady still clinging to Simon’s arm, his tall stature alone enough to have the bloke taking a step back

“Husband. Actually.” Ghost had decided to clarify for him, slinking an arm around your shoulders and ignoring the spark he felt as he did so, blaming the drinks he’d had himself. “Best move on to the next one, mate. She’s taken.”

Luckily, the lad apparently still had enough common sense, or at least self preseration instincts, to know when it was time to back off, moving back through the crowd with his head hung low, not that either of you were still looking at him, instead turning to face one another again

“Jesus, he’s been hounding me all night, wouldn’t take no for an answer, but you say all of ten words to him and he’s over it? Ugh, men I swear.” You’d said, leaning your elbows against the bar top as you went to wave down the barkeep, before catching Simon’s eye again and sending him a playful smile

“Funny way to say thank you.” He’d said, ignoring the way the genuine widening of your smile at his words had sent a jolt through his heart

“Hey, I was getting there.” You had laughed, the sound barely making its way to his ears through the noise of the crowd, but even just the whisper of it has him unconsciously stepping closer to you. “Would a drink be enough to repay for you saving me?”

Simon had glanced back over his shoulder, the tosser nowhere to be seen amongst the flashing lights and ever moving mass of bodies strolling and dancing about

You’d been nearly blinding to him in the darkness of the bar that night, your pale dress and startlingly white mask illuminated by the moving lights, the fog of his drinks already catching up to him, you were an image to behold nonetheless

It’d been a long, long time since Simon had had a girl in his bed, let alone a bird as pretty as you, but Ghost however? If he was lucky tonight, he might be able to get you to come back home with him, and then never see you again when he took the mask off in the morning

“Only if you’ll have one with me.” He’d replied, watching as you lifted a single brow in amusement. “Got to keep up the appearance that we’re here together now, haven’t we?”

“Hmm, suppose so.” You’d agreed easily, hopping up onto the barstool next to him as it freed up, the blush on your cheeks apparent when he’d reached his muscular arm behind you to drag the stool closer. “So, what’s my knight in shining armour’s name, then?”

“Call me Ghost.”

Muahahaha

I’ve been dropping hints in the chapters for a while now, and quite a few of you have guessed it, but yes, it seems Simon might know the baby daddy better than he thinks he does

As an almost strictly fluff writer, the angst in this one was so tough to write! Luckily next chapter will be filled with lots of fluff and smut to make up for the fight

- M 🫶🏻

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[viridescentelf]

Yandere elf x reader - Bath time :)

Character and Art belongs to @meo-eiru! Please check out her blog ✨ Another BIG thanks for creating him!

This is a follow-up to my last fic: if you want to read that one, click here. I'm not sure if I'll do another one, a bit out of ideas lol.

Warning: 18+ content, drugging, general nsfw, explicit

—————

The water stung your damaged knee. Silas was preparing something in a wooden pail, humming some tune, while you sunk deeper into the hot spring. The water brushed your chin, as you glared at the back of the stupid elf’s head, bobbing back and forth as he dunked colorful fluids from flasks into the bucket. His long, luscious hair was levitating on the water's clear surface, covering his butt.

You were so close to freedom. He told you he’s enchanted the area now, stopping you from leaving entirely. No idea how that worked, but he showed you by pushing you gently against an invisible barrier. Your cheek had squished against the unseen partition, like when a human tests their cat’s intelligence against walls in those videos. “To protect you”, he explained in his sing-song trill.

If you hadn’t been injured, you would’ve made it. Away from this maniac.

“Look what Mama made!”

Silas held the bucket under your nose, smiling serenely. The liquid was a mix of pinkish goop and specks of sparkles. Your eyes lingered on the strange soup, then turned up to meet his excited face.

“What the fuck is this”, you mumbled crossly.

“No swearing, darling!” He patted your head. He didn’t know what the word “fuck” meant, but he read that it is bad for children to use. “It’s my healing salt! Doesn’t it smell amazing?”

Silas kept holding it under your nose. It did smell good, damn it.

“It will heal your poor leg. Plus, it makes everything feel a bit tingly. Healthy for cleaning up down there.” He gestured to his crotch.

Fuck.

Without warning, he dunked the solution into the bath. The mixture oozed slowly into the clear spring. The effect of it was almost instantaneous. You felt the biting pain ebb from your limb and you sighed in relief. Elf magic was so fascinating. If only Silas wasn’t such a freaking psycho. You would love to learn more about it. And then go back home and sleep in a bed without tits in your face.

He was right about the prickly sensation. You felt a warmth pulsate down there, as you absentmindedly sunk deeper into the water. Your gaze blurred and you felt the comfort of the heat engulf you.

Silas pulled you to him and placed you in his lap. His towering upper body remained out of the pool, the breezy touch of his skin a great juxtaposition to the searing heat of the water. To be fully engulfed, he would have had to spread himself across the whole spring, leaving no room for you.

You felt him grow below you. The effects of the water seemed to work on his form as well. His cheeks blushed.

“Be good, darling.” He breathed into your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “Let’s heal you completely.”

Your leg was fine. You didn’t need any more healing.

Silas’ lips brushed yours, his tongue slinking quickly and entangling in yours. The potion and his saliva were making you go crazy, your lap roaring with want. It was impossible to bottle up.

The potion made movement slow. You were attempting to push away with the last of your wits, but it came across as you gently pressing his chest together. He misunderstood and held your face up to his breasts.

“Drink up…”, he trebled, leading your mouth to his hard teat. It was hopeless.

Your wet lips traced around it and you felt the elf jitter under you with excitement. His hands were softly trailing down your back and took hold of your bottom, squeezing the soft tissue. The water delayed his movement, but you felt him lift you slightly, hovering dangerously above his throbbing shaft.

You could feel him against your entrance, nudging slightly. The heat consumed you, thrumming in the area, wanting. You released your lips from his chest, gazing dozily into his red face. If he was blushing more, you could not tell. He looked so enthralled; the big, dumb eyes full of devotion to you.

Silas crashed into your lips again, kissing desperately, lapping up every part of your mouth. The more saliva you exchanged, the more you felt yourself pulsate. The waves within you crashed, begging for relief. You tried to use your arms to push him off of you, but they felt so limp.

You hated this effect he had on you. You couldn’t stop yourself. This surge and needing the release - it drove you insane.

Floating above him in the spring, you felt him twitch there in unfair expectation. He was far too massive for you.

Silas wrapped one arm around your waist, pushing you closer into his body. Your breasts compressed against his and he moaned shakily at the sensation.

“Mama will heal you, dear…”, he huffed after releasing himself from your lips, with bits of drivel escaping his mouth. “I lov-“

You couldn’t take it anymore. You sat down on him, letting the beginning of him enter you with a strong jerk. He filled you up, with just so little of him inside. Your entire body shook from the flash.

Silas head knocked back; his eyes crossed as he let out the loudest yelp you had ever heard from him. He had never felt you like this before. He only dared milking himself in your sweet mouth, for fear of tearing you apart. But this… the feeling of your tight, velvety walls, the little he could feel of it was enough to make his world spin.

He instinctively grabbed your hips with a jolt and lifted you up and down on him. He wanted more of that sensation, more. More. More!

You were bouncing on top of him and felt every sinew explode with electricity. He bucked his hips slightly when you bobbed back down, but not too much in fear of breaking you, slowly deepening each thrust.

Although you could hear his pitiful “Ah! Ah! Ah!”s, your entire environment seemed to muffle. All you could feel was the inconsolable penetration. The way every jab made your groin burst into flames. The water splashed vigorously around you, as he guided your body into his. He lifted you like you weighed nothing. His head was still jerked back with his eyes in the back of his head, it seemed he was unable to do anything other than plunge halfway into you.

You couldn’t help but release low moans yourself, the note of your bellows making him tense up more. His large hands were clasping your ass, the flesh spilling out between his long fingers. You whimpered and let him consume you, every thrust splitting your walls further. The loud clapping of your bodies and the vigorous splashing, you were intoxicated. The sounds. The sensation. It was diabolical.  

You let out a string of deep moans, as you came, the wetness around his shaft increasing as you tightened your grip around him. Silas couldn’t hold it any longer, either, as he erupted within you, squealing from the overwhelming pleasure.

He spilled out of you. A puddle of white foam bubbled around you. Silas heaved loudly, blinking excessively and tilted his head back forward, staring dumbfoundedly at you.

He looked like you beat him up. Tears were escaping his rippling eyes, as a tiny sob hiccupped out of him.

Fucking baby.

“D-Do you feel better now? Have I healed you?”, he squeaked, pulling you into his arm cages again.

You rolled your eyes and nodded out of sheer vanquish. There was no point explaining to him that this wasn’t how you heal humans. There was no point explaining to him that mothers don't do this.

Silas kissed your head and swirled his hand in the water, making his semen drift away from you. “Oh…all the precious milk. Gone…”

He grabbed a sponge from behind him and started cleaning you feebly, his hands still shaking from the massive release. You saw a tear fall from his cheek. Without thinking, you brushed another one off his cheek.

He gaped at you after the gesture, pausing his scrubbing.

“O-oh darling. You really love me, don’t you? That’s why it felt so good…”, he smiled widely, more tears splashing out of his googly eyes.

You didn’t answer. You didn't know why you just did that.

Silas hugged you so tightly, you let out a wheeze.

“I love you too, my sweet!!” he squeaked and squished you more. “It’s getting late. We still need to have dinner! And you need a proper portion of milk!”

You closed your eyes, sighing.

Another milking session...

[imaginedisish]

Heroes (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: I think I used David Bowie's "Heroes" for another fic when I first started writing on this blog. Oh well. We're using it again bc it inspired this fic. This is a combo request fic: Co-teachers/Logan having a nightmare/smut. Hope you guys enjoy!

Summary: You and Logan are assigned by Charles to co-teach a class to learn how to work as a team. You expect Logan to be cold, distant, short. What you don't expect is the way you find yourself needing him, and him needing you.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!! SMUT! Dry humping, Oral (f!receiving), Fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, soft!Logan, cocky!Logan (always), softdom!Logan vibes, implied age gap (Logan is obvi older), frenemies to lovers, feelings, some violence (Logan accidentally hurts the reader while having a nightmare), reader has regenerative powers, fluff, hurt to comfort (literally), reader has family trauma, afab!/f!reader, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it!

Word Count: 5,267 kinda wanna do a part 2 this was cute

“I work better alone Charles. You know that.” 

You and Logan Howlett never did see eye to eye. 

“Yes, Logan. Which is why I’m giving you this challenge.”

He was always cold. 

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Always distant. 

“Hence why it is an excellent idea, Logan.”

But you never thought he’d be this resistant to teaching a class with you. 

“I’m fine with it,” you say, your eyes flitting between Logan and Charles. “It doesn’t faze me at all.”

Logan’s leather jacket crinkles and he puts his hands on his hips. He furrows his brows. “You’re fine with this?” He asks, cocking his head to the side. 

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t see why not.” Your eyes find Logan’s, but you can’t make out the expression on his face. Can’t tell if it’s dislike, pure hatred, or something else altogether. 

“This can’t happen,” Logan insists, tearing his eyes away from yours and turning towards the Professor. His words sting and you’re not quite sure why—not sure why you should care about this at all. 

“It is too late,” Charles’s voice booms. “I have already decided. You will co-teach a history class for...” Charles trails off, choosing his words carefully. “Younger students.”

You smile, but Logan rolls his eyes, his brows still furrowed. “How young?” You say in unison, although in starkly different tones. You whip your head to face Logan and find that his eyes are already on you.  

“Ages six to seven,” Charles explains. “This will be a smaller class, given how rare it is for children of that age to show their abilities, and the course will be incredibly simple.” He rolls away from behind the desk and approaches you and Logan in the center of the room. “I have faith that the two of you can handle this.”

Logan exhales deeply but doesn’t say a word. “We can,” you answer, your stare breaking away from Logan and turning to the Professor instead. “I look forward to teaching the class,” you pause, “with Logan.”

Something in Logan’s glare softens. His frown slowly disappears, melting away. His jaw relaxes, and his shoulders go slack. “Fine.” He’s curt, but something about the resolve in his voice gives you an ounce of hope that maybe, just maybe this will go well. 

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

This is, in fact, not going well at all. 

Agreeing on the curriculum was not a problem. Logan, having experienced most of U.S. History, believes in telling history as it happened. No rose-colored glasses. No murky half-truths or prettily wrapped white lies. No weird Christopher Columbus-themed arts and crafts. Having seen multiple wars and experiencing the power of government exploitation firsthand—not surprisingly—has made Logan progressive.

So, you had designed an age-appropriate, honest, curriculum. You were shocked at how well you and Logan worked together. You shared quiet hours in the library, passing scribblings and notes back and forth while pouring over books. You actually felt quite confident. 

That is, until the very first class. 

You and Logan had only just introduced yourselves—written your names on the board. 

“We are going to have a fun, educational year,” you finish, smiling widely. “Does anyone have any questions?”

A young girl in the center of the room raises her hand. You nod towards her, and she smiles sheepishly. “Are you two married?”

You’re taken back, your brows furrowing. “Oh, um—”

“No,” Logan cuts you off, his arms crossing tightly against his chest. His shortness hurts more than you’re willing to admit. “Absolutely not.” 

The little girl’s eyes widen. “But then why do you look at her like that?”

“Excuse me?” Logan asks, his voice a little too harsh. “Like what, kid?”

“Logan,” you whisper, turning to face him. “She’s six. Let it go,” you chide. “Professor Logan and I are friends and co-teachers. That’s all.” You turn back to the little girl, who nods, but she doesn’t look convinced. 

The rest of the class goes relatively well. It’s very introductory—teaching the children how mutant history and human history are intertwined. You and Logan are able to simplify things for the children so that they can understand. And, as the class goes on, Logan seems more comfortable with the children. 

The period is almost over when a little boy raises his hand, and Logan calls on him. “My older brother told me people like us are scary,” he says shyly. His eyes are sad—too tired for a six-year-old. “He told me that we shouldn’t exist.”

Your stomach drops, tears burning behind your sinuses. You think back to your own family, back to the trauma of being disowned for something you couldn’t control. You’re too heartbroken to tackle the question. Logan’s eyes flicker between you and the little boy. 

“Your brother is wrong,” Logan answers, crossing the room to stand next to you. He brings a hand to your lower back. It’s the ghost of a touch, but it’s a lifeline. “You’re special,” Logan says, and you know he’s talking to you, too. “You all are. Don’t listen to what they say. You’re more important than you’ll ever know. More extraordinary than they can understand.”

The bell rings, and the children stand, collecting their belongings. “See you all tomorrow,” Logan shouts over the shuffling and ruckus in the hallway. The children file out the door, jumping and cheering as if nothing happened. 

“They’re so resilient,” you say, shaking your head and watching them leave. You look over to Logan—his face close to yours, his palm still pressed against your back. 

“So are you,” he whispers, smiling softly, rubbing up and down your back. “You did great.”

“Yes, she did. And you did too, Logan,” Charles says, suddenly in the doorway to the classroom. “I forgot to drop off the roll call this morning,” Charles explains, holding out a sheet of paper. You cross the room to meet him, taking the sheet into your hands. “It has the list of names of the children in your class, as well as their abilities.” Charles backs into the hallway. “Excellent work, you two. You make a better team than you realize.”

“Thank you, Professor,” you say. Logan mumbles a soft Thanks, and heads towards the door once Charles is gone. 

He scratches his head, almost nervously. “Got another class to teach,” he husks. “Meet up later to go over tomorrow’s lesson plan?” 

You nod your head. “Sounds good.” Logan smiles and walks through the doorway and down the hall. 

You look at the roll call, and your eyes widen. Your heart beats out of your chest. You find the name of the little girl who had asked if you and Logan were married. 

Claire Teller—Precognition, Clairvoyance, shows signs of potential telekinesis.

The paper falls from your hands and drifts slowly to the floor. You look down, your lips parted in shock. Did she see you and Logan—

“You alright, sugar?” Rogue’s voice snaps you back to reality. You look up, and she’s standing in the door. 

“Y-yeah,” you stutter, shaking your head. “I’m fine.”

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

The rest of the week goes smoothly. You and Logan meet each night to discuss the lesson plan for the following day. The classes go well. Claire always seems a bit distracted, her eyes flickering between you and Logan, but she does just fine in class. 

In fact, you’d say this was going better than well. You and Logan, despite his hesitation in the beginning, were growing closer every day. 

It’s written in secret, stolen moments—hands accidentally brushing, glances across the room. But you can feel it, the way your lives are being sewn together. You find ways to spend time alone outside of class—ordering dinner and grading together, practicing in the Danger Room as partners and not opponents. You had become something of a team.   

Tonight, you’re alone with Logan, sitting on the floor of his room, grading the small quiz you had given the children on the branches of government. Logan had picked the background music—60s and 70s rock. 

You hum along to Evil Woman by Electric Light Orchestra as you write “100%” at the top of a student’s quiz. 

“Pretty voice,” Logan rasps, looking up from his last quiz. Before you can react, before you can even process what he says, he’s moving on. “You almost done?”

“Just finished.” You write another “100%” and look up at Logan. He’s on his side, resting his head in his hand, balancing on his elbow. He smirks and stands up, striding over to you. He reaches his hand out, and you tilt your head, confused. You take his hand all the same, and he pulls you up. 

Logan’s hands find your waist, and he sways you from side to side. You giggle, shakily bringing your arms up and around his neck. Your heart thunders in your chest as you dance with him. 

“Didn’t take you for a dancer,” you murmur. Evil Woman fades out and Heroes by David Bowie starts up.  

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Logan husks. He pulls you in tighter, his chest pressed to yours. 

“Yeah?” You ask, letting your head rest in the crook of his neck. Your eyes flutter closed. “Like what?”

He’s suddenly silent, and you can feel the tension thicken in the room. “When Charles came to us about the class…” He trails off, searching for the right words to say. “I was nervous,” he admits. 

You lift your head from his neck. “Why?” You question, smiling softly. 

Logan presses his forehead to yours. “Because I—” But then there’s a knock at the door. “Logan?” It’s Charles on the other side. Logan huffs, his eyes closing defeatedly as he loosens his hold on your waist and walks over to the door. 

“There has been an emergency,” Charles says the second the door is open. “I need you to go on a mission immediately. This is a dire situation.”

Logan looks across the room to you. “Okay,” he says, his eyes still trained on yours. 

Charles nods and heads down the hallway. “Meet me downstairs. Hank is readying the jet now.” 

“I have a bad feeling about this,” you confess, fighting the tears brimming at the corners of your eyes. You can’t quite place where the feeling is coming from—why you’re suddenly so nervous about Logan leaving. A month ago, this sort of thing would’ve felt routine, normal. There’s always a crisis somewhere. 

Logan swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I’ll come back,” he promises. “And we can talk then.” He strides over to you, wrapping you in his arms, and pulling you into his chest. “Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.” 

“Logan?” Charles calls from downstairs. “We need to leave at once!” 

Logan squeezes you tightly before letting go. He works his jaw, his teeth gritting as he backs out of the room and down the hallway. Your heart drops as you listen to his footsteps echoing against the stairs. By the time you muster up the courage to follow him, it’s too late. The door to the mansion slams just as you make it to the bottom of the steps. 

You can still hear Heroes faintly playing from Logan’s room. 

And the guns, shot above our heads (over our heads) And we kissed, as though nothing could fall (nothing could fall) And the shame, was on the other side Oh we can beat them, forever and ever Then we could be Heroes, just for one day

You sit on the bottom step, your head falling into your hands.

“Oh, sugar,” Rogue whispers as she walks into the foyer. She settles next to you. “I didn’t know you and Logan…” She trails off, shaking her head. “He’ll come back. He always does.” She hangs her arm around your shoulder, tugging you into her chest. 

You hope she’s right. 

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

The next morning, Logan is still gone. You’re forced to teach the class alone. As you’re starting roll call, a young boy raises his hand. 

“Yes, Jimmy?” You call, arching your brows. 

“Where’s Professor Logan?” He asks curiously, tilting his head to the side. 

You swallow harshly, inhaling deeply. “He has something to take care of,” you explain. “It’ll just be me teaching today. Is that alright with you?” You try to sound light, jovial, plastering a fake smile across your face. The kids buy it, giggling and nodding. Jimmy smiles widely and nods, too.

But Claire—the little girl who can seemingly see into the future, stares at you sympathetically. It sends a chill down your spine. It’s like she knows how you’re feeling—can see it in her mind’s eye. You shake the feeling off, proceeding with the lesson. The material is distracting enough—the U.S. voting system, carefully explained so that the children can understand. 

The rest of the class goes off without a hitch, and the bell finally rings. The session felt longer than usual without Logan, and certainly harder to get through, but not impossible. The class picks up their belongings and files out. You grab your papers, readying to leave, assuming that everyone is gone. 

“He’s going to come back,” a small, familiar voice whispers. You look up from your materials, and there’s Claire, standing in front of the desk. Her deep, brown eyes twitch back and forth. She closes them tightly and smiles. “You don’t have to worry,” she assures. “He’s safe. He’ll always come back to you.” She pauses. “All I see is happiness.” The veins in her temples grow thicker, and you can tell she’s working too hard to look to the future.

“Claire,” you say, your hand grabbing her shoulder. “Don’t hurt yourself, my love. You don’t have to do that for me. I’m okay.”

Her eyes fly open, and she smiles widely, as if nothing happened. She steps away from the desk, your hand falling from her shoulder. “Didn’t hurt at all!” She calls as she skips out the door. “See you Monday!”

You shake your head. Resilient, you think to yourself. So goddamn resilient. 

The rest of the evening is slow. You try to keep yourself busy—grading papers, listening to music, going for a run, training in the Danger Room. But all you can think about is Logan. 

After dinner, you get ready for bed, changing into a pair of panties and an oversized t-shirt. You sit alone in your room, on your bed, reminding yourself of what Claire had told you this afternoon. 

He’s going to come back. You don’t have to worry. He’s safe. 

You lay back on your pillows, bringing the covers up to your chin and closing your eyes. You repeat her words over and over again in your head as you fall asleep. He’s safe. He’s safe. He’s safe. 

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

You wake up a few hours later, your bedside lamp still on. Your alarm clock reads 1:45 AM. You groan, rolling over and shutting your eyes tightly, trying to force yourself back to sleep. But it’s no use—you’re awake, thinking of Logan already. 

You push yourself to sit up, swinging your legs over the side of the bed, and pressing your feet into the cold wood floors below. You walk to your door, twist the knob, and head out into the hallway.  A lap around the mansion might make you tired—might relax you. 

You walk down the hallway slowly, noticing instantly that Logan’s door is closed. You can’t help but pick up your pace, striding towards Logan’s room. 

You stand in front of his door, your hand on the knob, ready to twist and push. You stop yourself, wondering if this is crossing a line, tearing down a carefully constructed boundary. But all you want is to see him breathing, lying on his bed. You need to know he’s in there—safe. 

You knock once, but there’s no answer. You swallow nervously, twisting the knob and pushing the door open. 

Your heart stops. There he is. He’s home. He’s safe. He’s breathing. You let out a sigh of relief, smiling softly as you start to close the door. 

But then his head snaps to the side, and he grunts. “Logan?” You call, opening the door slightly. He doesn’t answer. He grunts again. You quickly notice the way his fists white-knuckle his sheets. 

You step inside his room, closing the door behind you. “Lo,” you whisper into the darkness. He tosses and turns, his head whipping from side to side. He must be having a nightmare, You think to yourself, your heart breaking in two, watching pain wrack his body, his mind. 

You meet his side, placing a hand on his shoulder and shaking him softly. “Logan,” you say, your voice louder, stronger this time. “You need to wake up.” But he doesn’t. He groans, his brows furrowed, sweat beading his forehead. 

“Come on,” you plead, climbing into the bed, and straddling him. You hold him down by his shoulders, stopping him from writhing. Now that you’re closer, you can see the tears streaming down his cheeks, can see the agony etched into the lines of his face. “Logan!” You yell. “You gotta wake—”

His eyes fly open, and you feel cold metal pierce your leg. Your jaw drops as pain stings sharply in your thigh. “Oh fuck,” Logan curses, sitting up and retracting his claws. Tears brim in the corners of your eyes as the pain worsens. “Shit!” He cries out, grabbing at your thigh, blood spilling into his fingers. 

You close your eyes as your powers take hold. Your skin slowly stitches up, putting yourself together again. You groan, and Logan wraps his arms around you, holding you tight against his chest. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbles into the side of your head, pressing soft, gentle kisses there. “I love you, I’m so sorry sweetheart.”

What did he just say?

“W-what?” You ask, the pain fading away as those three words echo in your mind. 

Logan’s breathing only quickens as he realizes what he said. “A-are you okay?” He asks, ignoring your question. 

You nod. “It’s already gone,” you whisper, nodding to your thigh. “But what did you just—”

“I love you,” he interrupts, saying it again. You pull back a bit to look at him. You can see the seriousness in his eyes, the adoration, the honesty. “I love you.” 

You bite your lip, your eyes widening as you process what this means. Logan loves you. It’s everything you ever wanted. Everything you could have asked for. It just makes sense.

“I love you too,” you confess, choking on your words. “I was so worried. I didn’t know when you’d come back, or if you’d come back at all. I saw your door closed, and I just had to see you. I needed to know that you were okay, that you came home.”

He presses his forehead to yours, his eyes closing. “Before I left,” he pauses, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I was going to tell you why I didn’t want to work together.” His eyes open again. “I was scared to get close to you,” he explains. “I knew I wanted you the second I saw you. Knew I had to have you. I’ve never felt that way before. You opened something inside me that I thought I didn’t have. Turns out it was just locked, waiting around for you.”

“Logan,” you breathe, his lips just inches from yours. “I wanted you too. Wanted you this whole time.” You need him to kiss you—to take you right here and now. “I thought you didn’t like me,” you admit, giggling softly. 

He shakes his head, smirking. “I liked you too much,” he rasps. “Didn’t know what to do about it. You were driving me crazy, sweetheart.” You can feel his erection straining in his boxers, and you can’t help but grind down on him, your core rocking against his cock. “Fuck,” he groans, gripping your hips. “Slow down, pretty girl. Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nod emphatically. “Already healed,” you assure him. “Just need you, Lo.”

“Need you too, sweetheart,” Logan groans, rolling your hips against his, tugging you down his length. “Can feel you soaking through those panties already,” he grunts. And he’s right. The heat pooling between your legs is uncontrollable. 

You groan as your clit drags across his erection. “F-fuck,” you stutter, his fingers digging into your hips. You bring your hands to the waistband of his boxers, tugging at them. But before you can get anywhere, Logan is flipping you onto your back and crawling down your body. 

“Next time, sweetheart,” he coos, hiking your shirt up and smirking when he sees you aren’t wearing a bra. He palms your breasts, tweaking your nipples before sliding down further. “Wanna take care of you this first time.”

Your heart flutters in your chest at his words. You can see the hunger in his eyes as he kisses down your stomach, going past the hem of your panties, stopping at your clit. He takes a deep breath. “Can smell that pretty pussy. Know she needs me, darlin’.” 

He hooks his fingers into your waistband, and tugs the thin lace down your legs, revealing your aching cunt to him. He settles between your thighs, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your clit. 

“L-Lo,” you choke. “Please.”

He smiles against you, breathing you in again. “Please what, princess?” He asks, looking up at you under hooded eyes. “Tell me what you need.”

“You,” you beg. “Need you. Always gonna need you.” 

His smile meets his eyes as he licks a long stripe through your folds, his tongue pushing through your entrance, tasting you, savoring you. He hums against you, the vibration of his voice rocking your core. “Tastes so good,” he mumbles, licking another long stripe. “Perfect pussy. Knew you’d be this sweet.”

You watch as he laps at you, drinking you in. Logan’s tongue finds your clit, drawing tight circles into the bud. “F-feels so good,” you stutter. 

“I know, beautiful” He soothes, his fingers trailing up your inner thigh, drawing closer to your heat. “You look so pretty when you let me eat you out,” he praises, his fingers prodding your entrance. “You want more?” He teases, slipping just past your slit and quickly pulling out. 

“Yes,” you whimper, pleasure coursing through your veins. “Need your fingers, Lo. Please.”

He wastes no time—suddenly thrusting inside you, his long, thick fingers splitting you in two. Your walls flutter around him, sucking him in, taking him deeper. “So tight,” he coos, pulling out and sliding back in. “So fucking wet.”

Logan wraps his lips around your clit, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks, hard. He releases, his teeth grazing the bud lightly. Your walls clench around his fingers at the sensation. “Fuck,” Logan curses, smirking against you. “You like that?” He teases. “Like when I’m rough with you?” His tongue flits out, lapping flat strokes across your clit. 

You moan a soft Yes in affirmation, your back arching off the mattress. You’re already close, ready to let go. But Logan isn’t letting up, his fingers slamming into you, taking your clit back into his mouth and sucking harder, rougher this time. He swirls soothing circles into the bud, pushing you to the edge. 

“Logan,” you whine, your hips squirming as he drags his tongue harder against your heat. “I’m so close.” 

Your muscles contract and release around his fingers as he hits that sweet spot inside you, pump after pump. “I know, pretty girl,” He soothes, his free hand wrapping around your hip and holding you down to the mattress. “Look at you,” he praises between harsh sucks. “So beautiful like this.” His tongue circles your overstimulated clit. “Already fucked out, aren’t you?” 

“Yes,” you mutter, your hips squirming helplessly against his grip. It’s all too much, his hushed whispers, his praises, the way his tongue flits against you, his deep thrusts dragging along your walls. “Logan, I’m gonna…” 

“That’s it, pretty girl,” Logan coaches, his tongue still lapping at you ravenously. He’s starving, unwilling to stop. He needs more. “Should keep you in my bed so I can taste you whenever I want.” He grunts against you. “Want you to come on my fingers, darlin’. Wanna taste it. Let go.”

It’s all blazing, white-hot heat, raging through your body, searing your skin. Your eyes stay trained on Logan as he works you through your orgasm—ravaging you, lapping up every last drop of your release. His fingers pump in and out, slowly, before he pulls out completely. But his face stays buried against your cunt, his tongue pushing through your folds. 

“Logan,” you whine, lacing your fingers through his hair. “Need you up here.” 

He looks up from your heat and licks one more long stripe before climbing up your body. He tugs his boxers down his legs, his eyes not leaving yours. His cock springs free, bumping against his stomach. 

Logan settles on top of you, balancing on his forearm as his free hand wraps around the base of his cock. You instinctually spread your legs, as if it’s second nature, as if you’ve been here before. “Such a good girl,” Logan praises, sliding his tip through your folds. “All spread open for me.” His cock nudges against your clit and slides back down. “You need me, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you choke. “More than you can—”

And then he’s plunging inside you, bottoming out with just one thrust. “Fuck!” You cry out. He stays inside, unmoving, letting you adjust to the size of him. 

He presses his forehead to yours. “You okay?” He asks. His cock throbs, pushing against your walls, searching for more. His hand slips between your bodies and finds your clit. 

“Y-yes,” You stutter, sighing in relief as his fingertips draw gentle strokes into the bud. “S-so big.”

“I know,” Logan soothes, sliding out only to shove himself back in, down to the hit. Your back arches off the mattress, your chest coming flush with his. “Gonna work you open.” His voice is gentle, calm. “I’ve got you. Relax for me, sweetheart.” 

Logan pulls out and thrusts in again, his lips swallowing your moans with a kiss. His fingers swirl around your clit as pleasure pulses through your every nerve ending. “Feels so good,” you murmur as he picks up his pace, his hips rolling against yours. 

He grunts. “So perfect,” he praises. “Fucking made for me.” He pumps in and out of you harder, faster now, letting himself go. He pinches your clit, rolling the bud under his fingertips. “Never gonna want anyone but you, you know that?” He twitches inside you, and your walls flutter around him. 

You curse under your breath. “Yes,” you cry out. “Only gonna want you, Lo. Only you.”

“Doing so good for me,” he husks between hard thrusts. “Taking me so well.” His hips snap against yours, his fingers circling your clit rapidly, adding more pressure. His lips find yours again, biting, kissing you bruisingly, fitting against you like a puzzle piece. 

Your chests heave together, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing against the walls of the room. “You’re so perfect,” he whispers, his lips suddenly at the shell of your ear. He bites down on your pulse point, his tongue flitting out to lick the pain away. “So fucking beautiful.” 

Your walls contract around him, squeezing him as he sinks deeper inside you, hitting exactly where you need him most. You’re so close, ready to come undone. “Fuck, Logan,” you whine as he pounds into you. “I’m gonna—”

“Me too, pretty girl,” he rasps, twitching inside you. You wrap your legs around his waist, keeping him close as he plunges deeper. He lifts his head from the crook of your neck and presses a chaste kiss to your lips. “Don’t wanna stop. Don’t wanna…” He trails off, his cock throbbing inside you again. You know he can’t hold back.

You tighten your legs around his waist. “Don’t stop,” you beg. “Stay inside.” 

He groans, his forehead pressing to yours. “You want me to fill you up, sweetheart? That what you’re asking for?”

“Y-yes,” you stammer, his fingers pinching your clit and stroking relentlessly. “Please,” you choke, begging, tears brimming in the corners of your eyes. 

“Fuck,” he curses. “Wanna feel you come on my cock, sweetheart. Wanna make you mine.” 

“Already yours,” you whisper, your muscles contracting around his length again, your legs trembling as stars flood your vision. Logan moans your name, and you can feel him spilling inside you. You come together, your orgasm crashing into you, more intense, more powerful than the last. 

“Love you so much,” he whispers as he finishes, painting your walls. 

“Love you too, Lo,” you say back, your heart beating out of your chest as you come down from your high. 

His fingers drag against your clit, swiping gently before running up your body, slipping under your back, and pulling you into his chest. His hips are still, his cock unmoving inside you. He finally pulls out, and rolls off you, taking you with him. He tugs you into his chest, holding you tightly.

“Are you okay?” He asks softly. “Need anything?”

“J-just you,” you stammer. His fingertips trace patterns along your back, soothing and gentle. 

“Let me clean you up, sweetheart,” Logan whispers, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead and moving to sit up. But you stop him, wrapping your arms around his torso and holding him down. He smirks, letting you pull him back. “I’m just gonna grab a towel, yeah? Wanna take care of you. I’ll come right back.”

You nod, letting him go. He slips out of the bed, strides over to his bathroom, and grabs a towel from inside without turning a light on. Within ten seconds he’s back in bed, just like he said he would be. 

Logan brings the towel between your legs and wipes you clean. His touch is gentle, soothing, careful not to be too rough. Once he’s done, he throws the towel to the floor and reaches over to his nightstand. When he turns back to you, he has a glass of water in his hand. He extends the glass out, bringing it to your lips. The water feels cool as it slides down your throat. You drain the glass, and Logan smiles as he pulls it from your lips. 

He places the cup back down on the nightstand and pulls you into his arms again. You bury your head into the center of his chest, listening carefully to his heartbeat. It’s even, steady, constant. Just like him. 

“Never felt like this before,” he whispers into the silent darkness of the room. 

“Like what?” You mumble, your voice muffled against his chest. 

You can hear the smile in his voice as the words leave his lips. “Happy. Safe.”

Tears—happy tears—free themselves from your eyes, sliding down your cheeks. 

“Can’t let go of you,” he hums, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Don’t wanna go back to before.”

“You don’t have to, Lo,” you pant. “I’m yours. Always.” And you know you mean it. You know it’s true. It’s already been decided, already played out. Already etched into the future. 

Are you two married? Claire had asked. 

He’ll always come back to you. All I see is happiness, She had promised.

And she was right. 

“I love you,” Logan husks. 

“I love you, too.” 

tags: @afw5 @wolviesgirl @the-ruler-of-death @Ifdybadgirlsdiw @xtwistedchaosx @wittyjasontodd @wolverinesslut @galacticglitterglue @silversprings-mp3 @zxaera @spiderset @figsnpassionfruits @alastorssimp @alsoprettyinpink @prettyseaveins @ilysmdovie12 @evasmlp @derbygracie @rammakela @honeyfewr @ricefordays-blog1 @manipulatour

[astrofaeology]

Jupiter in the Houses

paid readings |Masterlist

ᡣ𐭩 Please support me by reposting, liking, following me and commenting your placement. Jupiter is a slow moving planet yet it does show have a important and significant inpact on your moral stance and deep rooted belief systems

1st house With Jupiter in the 1st House, which is the house of self and identity, people radiate optimism and good fortune as well as a very generous spirit. They project an out going and charismatic presence, often come off as larger than life, and also have a natural ease in making a great first impression which in turn brings about growth that is very much tied to personal development and self belief.

2nd house In the 2nd house which is that of personal resources and values Jupiter is in which brings about very lucky relationships with money and material things. We see that these people have easy access to finance, they attract great abundance, are very giving with what they have, and they find that which grows from wise investment and from a strong self worth and financial security.

3rd house When Jupiter is in the 3rd House of communication, short trips, and siblings it bestows people with large minds, a love for learning, and excellent communication skills. We see that they put forth great effort in networking, in education, and in putting forth their ideas which in turn they do so with which they have very good results in their relationships with siblings and immediate community.

4th house Jupiter in the 4th House is a placement which rules home, family and emotional bases, which in turn presents very fortunate and supportive home lives for these people often also very large or open family structures. We see that which they put out into the world is very much rooted in their home life, and also they may see great fortune related to property or heritage, which in very large doses they feel very supported and very secure.

5th house In the 5th House which is the domain of creativity, romance and children Jupiter is present which bestows great creative talent, a very positive approach to life, and success in love. We see growth via artistic endeavors and playfulness and also may note that they have a lot of children or issues related to them; they have a very giving and fun spirit.

6th house In the 6th House Jupiter is which rules over daily routines, work and health which in turn brings about good fortune in employment and a strong tendency toward service. These people find growth in their work which may be in health care or some helping profession also they tend to enjoy good health but at the same time may at times overwork or put off the small things.

7th house When Jupiter is in the 7th house which is the house of partnerships and also of open enemies it brings about great fortune and growth via relationships which include marriage and business partnerships. These people tend to draw in very supportive and lucky partners and we see growth through cooperation, fairness and a very harmonious approach to one on one interactions.

8th house In the 8th House Jupiter is which is a rule over shared resources, intimacy, and transformation which in turn presents opportunities via inheritances, joint finances, or the resources of others. Also in this position people grow via looking into psychosomatic issues,, they improve their standing in power dynamics, and they embrace large scale transformation which in turn draws support from others during crisis.

9th house As the primary player in this area Jupiter’s placement in the 9th House which rules higher education, philosophy, and long distance travel indicates a great affinity for knowledge, adventure, and spiritual growth. In this location we see that which is of great value to Jupiter growth via higher learning, foreign cultures, and the development of a wide philosophical base.

10th house Jupiter in the 10th House which is the domain of career, public image, and reputation brings great success that which also includes recognition and public respect. Also these people find they have access to great career growth, put in for leadership roles, and achieve a very respected social standing, which in turn puts them on a path to great influence and also a very positive public image.

11th house In the 11th House which is the home of friends, groups and hopes Jupiter is present which blesses individuals with many supportive friends and favorable associations. They do see growth and success through their social circles, group affiliations and in a very strong sense of community and humanistic ideals.

12th house In the 12th House Jupiter which is a house of the subconscious, secret matters and spirituality often plays a quiet yet very present and beneficent role in people’s lives that which of often is that of a protective and peaceful influence. Growth in this is through deep reflection, spiritual practice, and service which is filled with compassion also often they are born with strong intuitions and what may be considered a secret fortitude which in turn helps them to over come challenges.

DISCLAIMER: This post is a generalisation and may not resonate. I recommend you get a reading from an astrologer (me). If you want a reading from me check out my sales page.@astrofaeology private services 2025 all rights reserved

[chevxyn]

VIDEO GAME LOVER!

you guys met at a roblox game, which game did you meet and how did it went?

featuring; nagi, hiori (bllk). kenma, suna (hq) x you.

crackfic, romantic outcome.

NAGI SEISHIRO

you both met at royale high— he was one of those jake/single/prince guy as a joke, and you wanted to be a troll for him.

you met him at the cafeteria of royale high, you saw him and his terrible name— wanting to mess with the (what you thought) kid, seeing him all alone in the corner, you joined his seat. and the conversation went like this:

you : hii!

nagi : hey

you : ur very cute :3

nagi : thx, u too

you two kinda went back and forth (trolling eachother by flirting) until someone in chat went ‘eww’ and then he private chatted you.

nagi : ur not a 12 year old aren’t u

you : nope

right after that, he sent you a friend request. and that was history, after 2 years— both of you met and strangely enough, actually started dating after catching feelings for one another.

HIORI YO

you both met at life in paradise— he was a random guy that you picked up to be the father of your kids

he was just a random guy that was chilling outside the adoption center, when you pulled the hearts item to him cause you were bored. seeing that, he wanted to mess with you, so he pulled the hearts item from his inventory too.

from there, he sorta just followed you around as you took (kidnapped) 2 kids to roleplay with. but with your odd way of roleplaying and raising the kids, he immediately catched on that you’re most likely a troll and not a kid playing this game.

hiori : why are u giving our kids that

you : it’s healthy

hiori : that’s literally metal

you : it’s natural, so technically it’s healthy

that’s when he shot you a friend request, after around a year— you both face revealed to eachother and began a long distance relationship after learning about eachother.

KOZUME KENMA

you both met at arsenal, you were the always ranked first player until he came and then he destroyed you.

you were peacefully playing, destroying all these children until a player called “kodzuken” joined the game. safe to say, you were humbled. the guy would always choose the other team, or the team where you’re not on.

not to mention, always targetting you, and he never missed. being a little annoyed, you wanted to leave the game but decided to stay until you finally get your revenge. but after countless of times, he private chatted you.

kenma : just give up lol

you : no

kenma : i will keep targeting you

you : alr then vro

and so you did— well, tried to get your revenge. when you thought you won when his profile wasn’t in the leaderboard, you suddenly realized; he had left. curious, you went to check who kodzuken is and found his twitch. turns out? bro was a monster at arsenal.

you shot a dm, and when he replied— you both (somehow) befriended eachother. when they figured out they were at the same school, they became friends. well, until their third year where they dated.

SUNA RINTAROU

you both met at my little pony 3d : friendship is magic roleplay, he was discord and you were playing as fluttershy.

you both met in the canterlot castle, you were using fluttershy and he was using discord. the catch? you both act the opposite of the way the two characters interact.

suna : p-please fluttershy.. i’m so sorry

you : don’t worry girlie, i got you

suna : my hero!

you : grrr..

it was so bad, that a few kids even raged and told you guys that’s not how they act and how both of them are stupid friends. but, both of you didn’t even knew eachother before this.

suna : b-b-but fluttershy, i-i can’t..

you : yes you can ### (bbg)

you : oh come on

suna : ####### (LMAOOOO)

after you said you needed to go, he sent a friend request— which you accepted. you both were initially just bestfriends, but after 4 years being with eachother. you both realize you can’t function without the other. in that equation? you both date.

©chevxyn

[kaneaken]

author's note; bringing forth my soft capitano agenda with a short drabble

content notes; gn!reader, established relationship (married), you adopt ororon for a bit, mention of having children (as in raising them together), slight hurt/comfort, slight spoilers about capitano's origins

When you hear your husband's been injured in an altercation with the Pyro Archon, you were rushing out of the Fatui camp immediately. Multiple Fatui soldiers chase after you, telling you to return to camp.

"Lord Capitano will have our head if their partner gets injured! Move!" You hear one of the soldiers call out to their comrades. You ignore them. The only thing on your mind is to make sure your husband is alright. You know he's strong, stronger than you know, but it doesn't ease your stress.

In your focused state, you don't notice the man you're worried about approaching. You bump into his chest, almost tumbling over if not for him catching you by the shoulders.

"What are you doing outside of the camp, beloved?" He asks, looking down at you. You don't answer, your hands quickly moving about in search of his wounds.

"I heard what happened. Are you okay? Does it hurt? Where did you get hit?" You sputter out your questions, not bothering to let him answer.

"Excuse me..." A voice interrupts, causing you to turn your head. You make eye contact with a dark-haired male. He definitely wasn't a Fatui soldier, but his clothing reminded you of the locals.

"Who is this?" You ask, turning back to Capitano.

"A child from the Masters of the Night Wind. He assisted with my escape," Capitano answers. He readjusts his hand, leading you back to the camp with his hand on your back.

The male walks beside the two of you, interjecting whenever needed to explain himself.

Ororon is his name. You learn much about him as he spends time at the Fatui encampment. Whenever your husband is out, you find yourself making small talk with Ororon.

You learn about his garden. You smile when he promises to bring you some of his vegetables. He tells you about his family back home. He tells you that his granny will be especially furious with him when he returns home. You wonder what kind of woman his granny is.

As the days go by, you realize Ororon is a very sweet, young boy. You find yourself worrying about him more. When he goes out to search for herbs, you secretly tell the soldiers accompanying him to keep a very close watch of him. You always offer him an extra serving of food despite your husband's insistence that he's eaten enough.

"You're overfeeding him, beloved."

"It's better than underfeeding!"

When Ororon returns home for the first time, your husband notices your faltered state.

"You spoiled that child as if he was your own. I fear you have become too attached, beloved," Captiano remarks as he takes a seat next to you.

"Ah, I suppose so..." You admit. You chuckle soflty, resting your head on his shoulder. "We don't have any of our own, so I suppose I was just projecting."

"Children..."

"It's a silly dream of mine. Don't worry."

Capitano shakes his head. "It isn't silly at all. I suppose... I never believed you'd want children, especially with a man such as I."

That shocks you. You lift your head, facing him. "Why wouldn't I? There isn't anyone else I'd rather have children with."

You understand his hesitating. The curse he bears makes the future he once dreamed of almost impossible. You don't want him to believe that. He deserves a future as much as any other person.

"You'd be a wonderful father," You reassure, placing your head on his shoulder once again.

"You truly believe that?"

"I do."

[i-like-writing-stuff]

never changing [ five hargreeves x reader ]

a/n: hi y’all! it’s been a hot minute since i’ve been on here, but after the absolute shit show that season 4 was, some sparks ignited in me to write up anything to take my mind off it 🙌

its not anything crazy, just fluff and banter since i haven’t written anything in years so it may be as poorly redacted as this season lmao

summary: five and y/n attend their niece birthday party together, yet separate

“Happy birthday, little Gracie!” You smiled widely, trying not to drop the wrapped present box as the six year old girl jumped into your arms, “Oh my gosh, look at you! You’re just getting prettier by day, aren’t you?”

You had just got off work in a hurry to make your appearance at the little girl’s birthday party at a decent time, in spite of the amount of paperwork you managed to bury yourself in lately. You knew how much it would have meant for the celebrated one to show up and you couldn’t bear to let her down, especially on her birthday.

After spending most of your life working for the Commission, and then a decent amount of time exhausting yourself in trying to stop multiple Apocalypses, your last six years have been pretty quiet as a lawyer. You really wanted to get out of the whole assassin thing, but at the same time couldn’t exactly move on from the thrill of the work field. Your career as a lawyer took off really well these past years, but inevitably it came along with the cost of always being stuck at work, so whenever your niece got the chance to see you, she was truly enthusiastic.

“Auntie Y/N!” She wrapped her tiny arms around your neck, engulfing you into a tight hug, “You are here!”

Nonetheless, these six years have been truly and undeniably the most peaceful time of your life for as long as you could remember.

“You literally saw each other the other day,” Five raised a brow, watching you and the celebrated one act as if you hadn’t seen each other in years.

You and the little girl shared a look, before rolling your eyes and turning to glare at the man next to you. Ever since Grace learned how to talk, you and her would gang up on her uncle for your amusement, especially since he was so keen on entertaining the banter.

These past six year have gone by in the blink of an eye, yet at the same time at a slow and steady pace. You spent most of your time working anyway, but still kept in touch with the seven siblings you’d grown to love.

Some in different ways than others.

“Uncle Five, you’re always more excited than me to see Aunt Y/N,” Gracie waved him off, making you burst out laughing, “Jealousy isn’t a good look on you anyway.”

“What is a good look on him anyway?” You smirked, making the little girl laugh, as Five swept her into his arms;

“Okay, munchkin, it’s your birthday today, but tomorrow I’m going back to bullying you,” He joked, causing you both to laugh, before the two shared a hug before you, “You’re lucky your gift has no return policy.”

The party had already started by the time you made it there. The playground was huddled by other kids around Grace’s age, along with their parents. The music was playing loudly over the laughter of children and you were pretty sure that most of the family had already arrived. It was not the most ideal gathering, but you tried your best to keep in touch with most of the family to your best capabilities.

“Y/N, I’m so glad you could make it!” Luther smiled, appearing from the crowd of guests, immediately giving you a big hug as his niece was still wrapped around Five, “Haven’t seen you since Thanksgiving!”

“Big shot lawyer doesn’t always have the time to stay in touch with family, huh?” Diego teased you, following suit, as you rolled your eyes, dropping off his daughter’s gift in his hands.

“Big shot delivery driver doesn’t know the phone works both ways, huh?” You smirked, putting your hands on your hips.

Diego laughed out loud as he gave you a hug, always in the mood for a back and forth short banter with you. After all, you truly were family, even if you didn’t always have the time to be present in the Hargreeves’ day to day lives. You may have met them in the original timeline in 2019, when you accidentally time traveled with your former partner at the Commission, Five, but after all you’ve been through, you didn’t need to have grown up together or be blood related to be considered that. And you truly were grateful for each and every single one of them, in spite of the many differences over the years.

After everything that’s happened six years ago at Hotel Oblivion, everyone went their separate ways. Allison was back with her daughter while trying to further her acting career and also help Klaus stay on the sober line, Viktor had moved to Canada where he opened a bar, Diego and Lila had three kids, Luther was “professionally dancing”, Ben had some run-ins with the law and Five, ironically enough, was working for the CIA.

“Well, you two are as annoying as always,” Ben told you and his brother, making Diego roll his eyes as he walked towards the gift table to set down your present.

“Please try to stay out of prison at least for the remainder of the year,” You joked with the man, making him roll his eyes as he hugged you loosely, “There’s only so much favors I could owe the DA.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Ben groaned, “I don’t even know why they let you work at the law firm since you still look like a prepubescent with no boobs. Even Five got a growth spurt.”

“I sized up to B recently, thank you very much,” You nudged his shoulder, before placing your hands on your chest in an offended manner.

“Okay, Gracie, not a conversation you’d wanna hear,” Five spoke up, putting his niece down, “Your aunt needs to learn some etiquette on how to act around children.”

“Funny coming from you,” You couldn’t help but wave him off.

You didn’t come in with Five at the party, but as fate had it, you did run into him as you were parking your car. He had just gone out to his brother’s dusty van to bring inside some more cookies for the guests. You kept in touch with him as well, but not as often as you would have liked. It’s not all that serious, but given the fact that you were a lawyer still climbing your way to the top and him being a top notch CIA agent, you didn’t exactly have the time to hang out.

At least, not as much as you’d have liked.

Five was watching you with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and his hands in his pockets. He had the same look on his face as always when watching you. He had the same smile when he saw you in combat for the first time during your first mission for the Commission together, the same look in his eyes when you appeared for the first time in 2019 alongside him in your teen bodies. The same posture he had when he met you again in 1963 after months of not seeing each other.

He wore the same love on his face while looking at you when you and the siblings split up after the events at Oblivion.

And never once did you notice that.

Not once in these past six years you let your feelings surface.

“You know Grace is my niece too, right?” He couldn’t drop the small smile even if he wanted to.

“Since when are you such a family man?” You raised a brow, trying to keep a confident composure.

“Oh, something changed in me between the first and third time I traded the world for my siblings,” He lightly shrugged his shoulders, making you roll your eyes at the sarcastic remark.

You two never changed.

“Please, I was there for the twins birth,” You waved him off.

You rarely see Five, and even when you do you always try to act normal, as you do around the rest of the Hargreeves. Everyone tried to get you two together at first, since the apocalypse was over and there was no reason for you to not get together, right?

You really wished it was that easy. In hindsight, maybe it was. But you couldn’t take any chances in losing Five forever if something were to go wrong. Maybe some would see it as something stupid, or as if you wasted so many years, but to you- mentally, you were almost seventy, while physically nineteen. You had so much time ahead of you now, all that mattered was to get a stable career first.

Five let a chuckle escape, shaking his head in disbelief, as he looked at the floor for a couple of seconds. When he looked back at you, you tried to keep your composure. You couldn’t help but feel pathetic that after all these years, your heart still skipped a beat whenever he’d look at you.

“You’re doing that thing again where you forget that some other people are still around, guys,” Luther raised his hand, grabbing your attention once again.

“I got bored of watching seventy year old virgins,” Ben shrugged his shoulders, “I’m gonna go get shitfaced.”

“Always a delight seeing you, Benjamin,” Five said, as Luther followed the ex-tentacle boy suit to make re he was not about to actually get drunk;

“This is a six year old’s birthday party!”

You giggled, watching the two brothers speed away while arguing amongst the kids in the crowd. When your eyes laid back on Five, who was intently watching you, you couldn’t help but feel a small blush creep its way in your cheeks.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Spit it out, Hargreeves.”

“I said it’s nothing!”

“Fuck you.”

“Why?”

You watched him dumbfounded for a couple of seconds because of the only answer he could come up with, before walking away, hoping he would follow you.

When he did try to keep up with you, you looked away to hide the proud smile. Even after all these years, things were still the same with him. He was still so eager to spend time with you, he was still smiling at you and entertaining your conversation.

“Aunt Y/N, Uncle Five, come play in the ball pit!” Gracie ushered you from afar, already tucked in the plastic colorful balls.

“You heard the birthday girl!” You smiled, grabbing his hand to drag Five after you.

Even after all these years he would instantly lock his fingers with yours.

[fluffyfish000]

childhood friends, feat. shoto todoroki

"Your hair looks cool," was the first thing the student sitting beside him said.

Shoto turned slightly to look at you, squinting as you only smiled wider. Even at the tender age of five years old, Shoto had learned to be wary of others after a lot of long and painful learning experiences. His face burned with the phantom pain of boiling water.

His mother used to home-school him but after.. the incident, he'd been sent to the best private school near his home like the rest of his siblings. His father had hated the decision, but with his work as a pro-hero, there was no possible way for him to teach Shoto (and a tutor would ask far too many questions).

But as wary as Shoto was, he was still a polite child, so he nodded at you and said a soft, "Thank you." No mumbling. Father hates mumbling.

He thought that would be the end of it, but you seemed persistent to say the least. Kicking your small feet and not at all put off by his lackluster response, you continue talking. "It's like - candy canes. Or toothpaste. Why is it like that?"

"I don't know." Shoto responds, going back to tracing the kanji of his name into the paper over and over, pressing the pencil down gently. Your page is filled with more doodles than actual kanji. How do you expect to keep up if you slack off? This one of the top-rated schools in Japan for a reason. "You should do your work. You'll fall behind." He advises, looking back at the your face after the cursory glance at your paper.

You droop, slouching over your page like Shoto is ordering you to go to war for Japan, not finish your worksheet. "I guess you're right," you sigh, picking up your pencil again to actually do some work. Shoto feels a hint of satisfaction, glad to be rid of the distraction from his own work.

But of course, it doesn't last long. Most six year olds are known for being stubborn, and as soon as the teacher lets the class go on for break, you have latched on to his side like a leech. You stand when he stands and follow him outside to the play area, filled with swings, slides and sandboxes galore. The school doesn't let its standards fall in any way shape or form after all and the place looks like it's been plucked straight from a child's fantasies.

"What's your name?" You ask, long after the other children have split into their usual groups, tilting your head, the spring breeze ruffling your hair this way and that. "Why did you come here in the middle of the year? The teacher said you were home-schooled, what's that mean, was it fun?"

"Todoroki Shoto." He only bothers answering the first question, the endless barrage of others could be answered later if you kept repeating them. "What's yours?"

You tell him proudly, grinning brighter than the sun that's shining down on the two of you. Like it's something exciting, an accomplishment to do something as simple as say your name. Your enthusiasm is simultaneously exhausting and intriguing. None of his siblings have the same sparkle, the same boundless cheer, the lack of paranoia. You stand, proud and bold with a hand to your chest as you proclaim your name not just to Shoto, but to the world.

It reminds him absurdly of All Might. And that's when he decides he likes you.

Throughout the day, you yammer on to him about your lunch, about school, your friends, cartoons, your favourite colour. Anything you think of, you say. You don't think as much he does, but he finds himself admiring it. At least you seem content with his hums and nods of acknowledgement even if he sometimes can't keep up with the sheer amount of conversation.

When his siblings come over to the pick-up area since Endeavour demanded that they all walk home with Shoto, they seem a little.. shocked to see you. You're rocking back and forth on the heels of your little shoes, talking animatedly to their aloof little brother.

Fuyumi smiles gently and crouches down in front of the two of you, Natsuo and Touya peering over her shoulder. Natsuo looks intrigued, but Touya just looks bored.

"Hi there," Fuyumi says sweetly, gray eyes sparkling at the sight of her little Shoto with a friend. You introduce yourself just as excitedly as you had done earlier with Shoto, even as Touya taps his foot rapidly on the ground with a scoff, anxious to just get home. Shoto doesn't seem to share the same sentiment and as the group of siblings leave, he's trudging behind them while Touya and Natsuo push each other with giggles and Fuyumi snaps at them to, "cut it out!"

He looks back at you.

You smile.

He turns away.

The seasons go by far too slow and far too fast at the same time. As the sweltering summer heat beats down, Shoto seems to melt at your persistence to be his friend. No one has ever tried so hard for him before. He was starting to think no one ever would.

Every summer, he melts more and more, but even so he never invites you to come over and he rejects all your offers to invite him. At most, he'll hang around the pick-up area with you, lingering until Touya yells over his shoulder for Shoto to hurry up, and he'll dart away again. Like water, the product of the combination of his quirks, he slips between your fingers, seeping out every time you think you finally have a good grasp on him. Or maybe you're foolish to think that you could contain him, hold him in your hands at all.

Despite this, he's your best friend, and you're his only friend (that isn't his siblings).

At ten years old, you wander through the neighbourhood park, bored of the never-ending game of tag that the other kids were playing. You were more content to look up at the way the sunlight fell through the tree leaves, making their veins stand out and the green seem just that little bit brighter. You're examining the daisies when you hear, the distinct flat, unexpressive tone of Shoto's voice, the slow pronounciation of every syllable.

Your head snaps up towards the sound. What would Shoto be doing here? He never really goes anywhere except his house or school, so it doesn't make sense to you. Pushing yourself off the ground and not bothering to brush the grass off your knees, you go to investigate, marching off with righteous annoyance. Seriously, if Shoto can go to park, surely he can hang out with you, at least once!

Pushing past branches and delving deeper into the trees, you nearly stumble when you finally make it through to a clearing, the ground suddenly evening out under your now-dirty shoes. In fact, you do stumble, twisting so that you fall on your back instead of your face. It doesn't really hurt, you're just.. covered in twigs and dirt now. Great. Your mom's going to be so mad.

You open your eyes to see Shoto's upside-down face staring at you, hair falling into his eyes, sillhouetted by the sun. His expression is blank as ever, but you swear you see a flicker of amusement dancing in his eyes and the corners of his mouth twitch up.

"Are you alright?" He asks, moving so that he can help you up. His siblings are there too and already looking at you, and you feel a blotchy flush rise and spread throughout your face at the intense scrutinization. "Fine," you try to sound unaffected, but that's ruined by Shoto casually picking a twig out of your hair that you didn't know was there. "Just fine."

All of them look away from you then except Shoto, the older ones huddling in a circle to whisper frantically. Touya throws you a glare that's more worried than angry, Natsuo is hunched like he's trying to make himself smaller, and Fuyumi is glancing around like she's expecting the shadows to come to life. Or maybe she's expecting a person to stomp through the trees, leaving them blazing in his wake.

You won't understand what that frantic whispering was about, why they all looked so stressed at having you there. You won't understand why they all looked so fearful until it's far too late to do anything about it. But years later, this memory will make you feel sick with guilt, even if right now all you feel is upset about the big kids excluding you and Shoto.

You turn to your best friend expectantly, crossing your arms with the most authoritative glare you can muster, as if telling to him to explain himself. He does, even if you weren't really all that intimidating with dirt on your clothes and leaves in your hair.

"Father's on a business trip." He starts, staring at his siblings who are still in their huddle and throwing suspicious glances back at you, as if they're expecting you to sell them out to Endeavour. "Natsu-nii wanted to play catch with all of us together, for once."

You frown, confusion etched into your features, but before you can ask anything Shoto's oldest brother comes over. "Hey kid," he leans down, glancing around surreptitiously. "Listen, if you promise not to tell anyone we're here, you can play catch with us. You just have to not tell anyone. Got it?"

You look up at him and solemnly nod, even if you're buzzing with excitement about hanging out with Shoto outside of school. "Pinky promise!" You vow, holding up your pinky. Touya blinks unsurely, but Fuyumi laughs, her shoulders loosening as the stress melts away. She links your pinkies together, giving you a secretive smile, and you can't help but beam.

"Think fast!" You whirl around to see Natsuo throwing the ball at you with vigor, eyes shining in the summer sun. You immediately turn and pass to Shoto after fumbling the catch, and he looks at you with confusion, like he was expecting to just watch.

"I won't let you sit on the sidelines and watch us play!" You scoff, like it's obvious, motioning for him to pass the ball to someone else.

His face is blank for a moment, then it splits into something different entirely. An actual, real, wobbly smile goes across his face, two-toned eyes lighting up, his hair more messy than usual. He grips the ball with childish determination, still looking straight at you, and you feel your heart flutter strangely.

The autumn of the year you and Shoto turn thirteen sweeps in rapidly.

Suddenly, trees stand bare and naked in the evening chill, orange leaves in piles at their cold roots, branches arching for the sky like they're reaching for solace that they won't find, not until spring arrives again. The warm, sticky days of childhood are gone, and it'll only get more bitter and colder as you grow. The sting of ice and snow will bite at your skin soon, but for now you can relish in the rare warm nights that are scattered throughout the autumn season.

You're both old enough to be trusted to walk home yourselves, old enough to have phones, old enough to have knowledge and awareness, old enough for change. And with that new-found independence comes sickening realisations about the scar on Shoto's eye, the bruises that appear on his pale skin. An ugly purple fading to a twisted green and then finally healing, just for another to end up on his face a week later.

You don't want it to be what it is so you don't ask and he doesn't tell you.

"Sho?" You ask, breath almost fogging in the afternoon air, though it's so dark that it looks more like evening.

He hums in his usual way, his gaze turning to your face as you hesitate before you ask.

"Would you.. want to hang out tonight?"

You feel the rope around your heart grow tighter as he looks away, but not quick enough to hide the guilt that paints his face. You two text, you see each other in school everyday, but things are going to change soon. Middle school is nearly over, and everyone knows Todoroki Shoto is going to UA. You've been thinking about it too, quite a lot in fact, but you just can't see a world where you're a hero. Your quirk isn't all that useful and definitely not as outrageously powerful as Shoto's is. Sure, you're smart. You could make it into the General Education Course, the Management Course, maybe even the Support Course. But you know you won't make the cut for the Hero Course.

And you're not sure that's what you want to do with your life. Just follow Shoto wherever he goes, do what he does. And even if you do get into UA, you'll see him at lunch at the most. Are you really willing to give up another pathway where you could thrive just to see Shoto for thirty minutes a day?

("Yes," a traitorous, small part of you whispers, "yes you are.")

"I'm sorry," he starts, snapping you out of your thoughts. "I have.. training."

You both know what training means.

But it's starting to hit you now. In a year, he'll be gone. There'll be no more walks home after school, speedy runs to the gas station shop, kicking pebbles in comfortable silence. You won't see his eyes light up when you pass him a candy you know he's not allowed, when you pick him as your partner in dumb school projects. He won't be there to smile that private smile that's just for you. He'll smile it at someone else, a new best friend, and they'll be heroes together and you'll be left behind -

"Then I'll wait." You don't realise the words are coming out of your mouth until you've said them, but you're not backing down now. Your mouth is set into a harsh, stubborn line, even as Shoto looks at you like you're crazy.

"You'll.. wait." He repeats slowly. "You do know how long my training sessions are-"

"I know." Your jaw clenches and you swallow loudly. "I don't care."

He looks.. flabbergasted is the only word for it. He opens his mouth like he wants to convince you not to, but all he says is. "There's no guarantee I'll be allowed out afterwards."

You flounder for a moment before straightening again, looking him dead in the eyes before telling him. "Then I'll wait by your window. You must have a ladder. I'll climb up, and I'll wait for you."

It seems you've shocked him again, but this time a pink tint rises to his pale cheeks as he looks at the ground, contemplating. Or maybe it's a trick of the light.

"That's the second time you've said that. That you'll wait for me." He says, tone forcibly casual.

"Because I would. Why wouldn't I? You're my best friend."

He nods then, slowly at first, but then more assuredly. It's not a full 'yes', but it's not a no either, and that's good enough for you.

(You freeze your ass off on that ladder, shivering as the cold wind blows around you. But it's worth it when Shoto cracks open the window and looks down at you, face blank, but eyes shining in the low light, sparkling with some unreadable emotion. Happiness maybe. Even after all these years, it's difficult to decipher every one of his expressions, but you know that you like this one.)

Your parents yell at you when you come home late, but it's worth it.

Your sixteenth winter alive arrives, and with it comes separation. Texting really isn't the same. Trudging home with wet snow soaking through your shoes, you can't help but miss the warmth Shoto had brought to your life. He doesn't even come home anymore with the new dorms system. You know he visits his mother now, uses his fire now, smiles and talks more now, has friends other than you now and the thing is, he deserves it. After so many years of isolation and loneliness and grief and pain, he's changing for the better and you're happy for him.

But.

He used to grow with you, by your side as much as he could be. Your best friend and you were his in turn, and he changed and you adjusted and it wasn't perfect of course, people fight and argue, but you'd always drift back to him and he'd come back to you. The leaves of a tree change each season, green, then orange, then no leaves at all - but the roots remain intertwined with the soil, far too twisted and tangled up to even think of uprooting.

You and Shoto were growing up. And you might even be growing apart.

You don't say any of that on the voicemail you're currently recording though. It's become your routine now, sending a voicemail to Shoto that's at least an hour long, updating him on people he used to know, you, Fuyumi and Natsuo and Touya-

Sometimes you forget that Touya's gone. It's just so habitual to list him when you list the Todoroki siblings.

Your breath fogs up, voice echoing off the empty, icy streets. "You'll never believe it Sho," you start, as you keep walking home. "You remember Hayato from middle school, right? He got expelled. Yeah, you heard me, expelled. I mean, he wasn't that terrible that he needed to be expelled, at least that's what I think-"

You end the voicemail when you reach home, the beep sounding uncomfortably final in the silent house.

(Shoto lies back on the tatami mats. Today was long. Bakugo was particularly loud and angry, he couldn't seem to focus in class, his lunch order was messed up, and he was distracted all day.

But none of it seems so bad when he hits play on the most recent voicemail and your voice fills his ears. He relaxes almost instinctually at this point, your voice having become a staple in his night time routine. He usually falls asleep halfway through the messages, but in the morning he picks up where he left off while he gets ready. He enjoys it. It's like he's still right there, close to you, by your side. It's proof that you aren't forgetting him.

"I've been trying to convince Fuyumi to move out. Honestly, I'm not sure why she even stays, you aren't there and neither is Natsuo and she definitely has enough money to get her own apartment. You should tell her too, she's more likely to listen to you than me-"

He doesn't want you to forget.)

At the end of winter comes the thaw. Ice melts, flowers bloom, birds sing and the Earth returns to being the lively, loving thing it was always meant to be, no longer hidden away under layers of compact snow and slippery ice.

You and Shoto have thawed too. Twelve years is a long time to be someone's best friend, their person, and maybe you two drifted closer then further away again, but your roots are still intertwined. Nothing can change that.

The UA graduation ceremony was beautiful. The pink leaves of sakura trees were just starting to fall on to the trimmed grass, Class 1A is lined up with smiling faces and loud laughter echoes across the school grounds. You stand in the crowd, grinning like you're the one who's graduating, clapping far too loud and enthusiastically, enough that a few people turn around to give you strange looks. You don't really care and Shoto doesn't seem to mind. It's the two of you after all, and it always has been.

The walk through the park where you and Shoto played catch together for the first time is calm. The weather is warm with a faint breeze that rustles his hair, messing up the usually perfect part and you can't help but chuckle.

"What?" He asks, turning to you with a smile that comes far more easily these days, his hair mussed up even more due to the action.

"Nothing!" You raise your hands placatingly, "Just.." You reach up in lieu of an answer, leaning forward to try and fix the mess that his hair has become, red and white strands mixed haphazardly. He stills under your gentle hands, those grey and blue eyes looking down at you like he can see straight into your soul. Now it's your turn to ask, "What?"

He doesn't respond, not for a long moment, but when you try and step away after giving up on his hair, his hands closes around your wrist. It's not a harsh grip, it's loose in fact, barely there. He's not holding you in place, not forcing you to stay close. It's a silent request more than it is a demand, calloused finger running gently over the inside of your wrist until he finds your steady pulse. He's still staring at you, like you put the stars in the sky, like you placed the water on the Earth, like you're some kind of deity.

You swallow, harsh enough that you're sure he can hear it.

"You were my first friend." He starts, still standing too close to you, like this is all normal. "I've always been.. grateful, for that."

"You don't have to be grateful," you reply automatically, unable to stop yourself from swaying closer as the breeze grows sharper, cooler. His hand is warm, sweaty even, shaking a little. "I'm glad I was. You're my best friend."

"You're mine too," he says softly, like it's a secret, the words almost carried away by the wind.

You're not sure who moves first. But then, lips are on yours, his hand is gripping your wrist a little tighter, the other is sliding into your hair and clinging, like he can't let go - no, like he's not willing to let go.

It's everything you've ever wanted. It's just so Shoto, awkward, sweet and slow and gentle, like you and him have got all the time in the world. Who knows. Maybe you do.

His face is flushed when he pulls away, looking down at you with that same terribly loving and awestruck expression that makes your heart twist and makes you want to hide away.

"I don't want to be your friend." He blurts out, words coming out in a rush, his hands still in your hair and around your wrist. You feel your stomach sink before he continues. "I want to - I want to be more than that to you. I've wanted to be more for, for a long time now." And then your stomach is swooping back up again and your heart is beating in your throat and your face is burning red.

".. a long time?" You breathe out, repeating his words in a whisper, like if you don't they'll disappear.

"Yes." And he sounds so sure now, so devoted to this, that you can't help but kiss him again as the answer to his unsaid question.

Intertwined. Together. Like you were always meant to be.

inspired by @kitkat13001's post abt todoroki, it was so cute I literally had to write this. this is probably so out of character LOL i haven't watched mha since 2020 but i just got so invested in this that i wrote it in one sitting. well done for making it this far, this is long as heck, im sorry!! pls lmk if u liked it haha, i live for constructive criticism and praise. hope i did this justice and go check out kitkats stuff, its really good!!

[psin314]

some of murat's exes and "exes???". nico, ines and fargiz. (info and little pics under the cut)

nicole (or nico) de riva, 24 yo (murat's 22-23). elf, mage, healer. after the fights young murat run to her to heal his wounds, especially he cared about the ones on his face. murat still sometimes visits her. friends but not close, mean to each other as a joke. she has seen murat naked so many times and is not proud of it. yes, they slept together. she immediately said to murat that he's not her type. but ovulation leads you to places you wouldn't even go with a gun. + a bottle of wine, and they made out a couple of times. she healed not only his wounds but also hey i have this weird rush on my well yeah... someone had to treat his stds... alive in datv. still see each other sometimes.

ines, 19 yo (murat's 22-23). murat's nice ex. there was a real romance, like in books. he saved her from some bad guys in an alley, she gave him something in return, they went separate ways and then met by chance. they started talking, falling in love, all that stuff. everything was very sweet. then ines started noticing that murat was kind of downcast, sad and decided to find out what was troubling him. she really wanted to help him. in the end, murat got scared that she would find out that he's a crybaby, that he doesn't know who he really is, and that this charismatic cool guy is just a mask and inside he's just a loser. (murat's mental stability was very questionable.) so he lied to her. like i'm a crow this is very dangerous i love you and i want everything to be okay with you so we need to break up although i don't want this but i'm very sorry blah blah. they said goodbye to each other very tearfully. ines believed that she could be in danger because of him and let him go. murat then went on a drinking binge for a week as usual. in datv ines is happily married, 3 children, a nice house, everything like that. and she sometimes remembers her wild youth with a smile. she doesn't hold a grudge against murat and hopes that at least he's alive and everything is okay with him.

fargiz (his real name is fargat, likes -iz more), 27 yo (murat's 25). half-elf, but looks very human, bard, assassin, sometimes pirate. originally from rivain, spent half his life until adulthood constantly moving back and forth across antiva. plans to move to orlais (dreams of a luxurious life), but before murat hung out in antiva. murat fell in love with him as soon as he saw him. fargiz was playing and singing somewhere at the market. after the performance, murat offered him a drink. that's how they started talking. all murat did was confusing fargiz with his behavior towards him. murat was a big ass red flag here, but fargiz didn't want to notice it cus he fell in love too. murat stated at the very beginning that he's not into guys, he's just "quirky" and very passionate man. but murat kept flirting, casually touching and drinking with him. so fargiz thought murat was just joking. they probably kissed drunk, but murat added no homo after each time. they were "friends" like that for several months. then day x happened, they were drunk af again and it seemed like things were heading towards s e x. but at some point murat stopped it, said he's not like that, joked and left. fargiz got fucking mad at murat and the next day he yelled at him for hours on the street and then stopped talking to him. and a few days later he left treviso. murat learned from their mutual friends that he had sailed away to some other antivan city port with the first morning ship. murat didn't look for him cus well fuck him i dont need this *** anyway. the next week he drank, cried and hated himself. 🗿 in datv he lives in orlais, married a lonely rich widow. he holds a grudge against murat and hopes that at least he's dead and if not he hopes that murat is a drunkard with a miserable life and his dick has fallen off.

[ceesimz]

growing pains

how does your relationship change, years down the line, with two kids in the picture? (angst + lotttt of fluff. like, 16k of it.)

When it’s right, it’s right. 

That’s something you believed in and always had done. If something feels right, let it happen. Don’t fight it. It led you down many paths, of which were almost always successful. 

Your favourite path, however, was how right it felt when you sat across from Alexia on the first date. How easy it was to laugh and joke with her, to have meaningful conversations about the past, the present, and the future. How quick you decided she was the one for you; in both your relationship, and in parenthood. Coming to the decision of having children with her was like breathing and blinking, it was natural for you. You didn’t want anyone else, didn’t believe there was another person in the world that you’d want to navigate the highs and lows with. 

No matter what happened, no matter how hard it got, not a single part of you doubted you wouldn’t get through it together.

That didn’t mean the first blip didn’t hurt any less, didn’t make you panic or overthink everything any less. The first one might have been the scariest to get through, simply because of the unfamiliarity and unknown of it. And thankfully, it wasn’t anybody’s fault, it was a combination of many things that built up continuously until it all erupted like a volcano. But realising that and accepting that in the moment was an impossible task when it felt like the world was ending and the one person meant to be on your side no matter what was fighting against you.

Your first child, Anaís, didn’t adjust well to moving into her own room without her two parents, like any baby did. Some adapted quicker than others, whilst ones like Anaís just couldn’t bear it. Her reaction of screaming and crying, exerting herself and dropping into a cycle of over-exhaustion whilst being too unsettled to sleep was one of the hardest things you had ever witnessed. The same went for Alexia too.

However, at the one moment you should have been there for each other and collectively there for your daughter, your love got in the way. It sounded backwards, but it was the truth. You both cared for the six month old immeasurably, and that led to your solutions causing you to clash in figuring out what was best for the shrieking baby that just could not settle.

“She won’t stop crying, I’m not just going to ignore her!” 

Alexia's argument was valid, of course it was. Self-soothing was apparently something important to learn in hand with this adjustment for Anaís, the only thing was that it went against every parental instinct in existence, and Alexia just couldn’t handle it. 

You couldn’t either, and she would have recognised that if she took a second to step back and think rationally about the situation you found yourselves. However, all rational thinking had flown out the window for you both, her particularly, because there was no rational thinking to be done when your child was screaming like she was and igniting every ounce of concern either of you had to give.

“We’re not ignoring her, I’ve told you this. It’s an important step, Ale. We’re right here, if there’s somethi-”

“There is something wrong with her! Can’t you hear her?” You huffed and buried your head in your hands where you sat on the edge of the bed, baby monitor beside you with the brunette pacing back and forth in front of you. 

“Stop. Of course I can hear her. This isn’t easy for me either, stop putting the blame on me.” 

You were seconds away from getting up and walking out the room to avoid her misplaced anger. With every shout from her, every exclamation, your emotional stamina was wearing thin; initially you understood where it was coming from, a place of love and fear, it was natural. But each time she raised her voice and grumbled under her breath, you were growing irritated with her at the immature display of emotion. 

The sounds of Anaís’ discomfort was unbearable – every scream made your skin crawl and your heart clench excruciatingly. In situations like this, where you were on the edge of a nervous breakdown, Alexia would be the first person you’d go to. Actually, nevermind that, she would already be there before you reached the edge. She’d be there with open arms and endless words of reassurances, ready to remind you that you weren’t losing your mind and things were solvable. 

Without her there to tell you all that, things didn’t seem so simple and solvable like they usually did. Everything just seemed so much worse. You felt lost without her on your team. 

“I’m not putting the blame on you.” She grumbled, leaning back against the wall by the door and letting out a disapproving sigh that grated at you. A minute or two passed by of silence, the only sounds being Anaís’ whimpers and cries that never ceased. “I’m tired of this, it’s unfair. I’m going in.”

You had to grab onto her hand before she could swing the door open in her aggression, keeping a tight grip when she tried to shake it off.

“Don’t go against me on this, Alexia. It’s no easier for you than it is for me, please don’t rebuttal against it.” You half-warned, half-begged. Only for her to scoff in your face.

“No, I am her parent too, I get to make important decisions too. And I am deciding that this is too much for my daughter.”

She swiped her wrist out of your grasp and stormed out the room, reaching Anaís’ nursery in four long strides and rushing in like a firefighter. After watching her go and hearing what she had to say, you slammed the bedroom door shut behind her. 

At first, your blood boiled at the sheer amount of audacity she had to say ‘her’ daughter, like the decisions you were making had any impact on your position as Anaís parent. Quite frankly, it disgusted you that she chose to say that. Never did you think she’d use such a delicate thing to spite you, especially when you worried constantly about if you were good enough for the sweet little baby whose life depended on you. 

Yet, you could hear every soft and soothing word she sweetly murmured to your daughter through the baby monitor. And for a moment, you were jealous. Jealous of your own child for being on the receiving end of the care Alexia usually gave to you. An intense jealousy that consumed you, seeped into your soul, and took over you like your love was some kind of possession. 

That was when you realised something had to change in this situation. 

This wasn’t the way you wanted to raise your child. Even though there wasn’t even the slightest possible chance Anaís would remember it, you knew the effect these kinds of things had on children, and both you and Alexia had sworn that, no matter what, Anaís and any future children would never know what it was like to grow up in a home that wasn’t drowning in love. Not even for just a second.

You took a deep breath, or ten, and tried to relax the tension in your shoulders. They were nearly up to your ears with stress, you could feel the knots beginning to build in your muscles across your back, as well as a stress headache building up ferociously.

Alexia was the best coparent you could ask for, how she was acting in the other room when she thought no one was listening said all that needed to be said. Anaís’ reaction wasn’t how you expected her to be, and it became very clear that a different approach was needed.

Only you and Alexia know your child. Only the two of you knew what was best, not some random articles and forums. So you took another breath, looked at the love of your life on the screen of the monitor, the mother of your child, heard how perfect she was with your baby, and it all clicked. She was on your team, you were both just too clouded to remember that. Clouded because you had made your daughter the top priority, clouded for the best reason, most important reason. You were still outrageously frustrated at her and the comment she made, but she’d make her regret known, you could hear it in the quiet sniffles that sounded through the small monitor sporadically.

Down the microphone of the baby monitor, Alexia was still quietly mumbling to a significantly calmer Anaís, and it warmed your heart. You held down the button to get the microphone on your end to work, waiting for a second as Alexia finished her rambling and placed a gentle kiss to the tired baby’s head, punctuated with a swipe of her thumb against her own cheek to rid it of the wetness that had accumulated.

“Bring her back in here, Ale.” You told her, stifling a smile at the way she jumped a little at the unexpected voice in the room. She nodded though, and did as you said.

She looked a little sheepish as she walked in, her arms cradling Anaís and rocking her ever so slightly. You shuffled to sit back against the headboard and patted the space beside you for her to sit too. In her arms, Anaís was minutes away from falling asleep, finally. Meanwhile, the two of you had stress lines and dark eyebags that told a story in itself. One you wanted to end, so desperately. 

However, you weren’t going to be the one that gave in first. You deserved an apology and you could tell Alexia knew that with how she sat uncomfortably beside you, her guilt evidently eating away at her. The second she opened her mouth, you already knew you’d forgive her, and that she was the only person in the world you would navigate this pathway with.

It seemed Alexia felt that way too.

“I… am so sorry.” She whispered, accompanied by a sigh that was a lot gentler, quieter, not a spiteful one like earlier. 

Your eyes drifted to your daughter and remained unmoving, stuck on the slight up and down of her chest as she breathed and the flutter of her tiny eyelashes as she fought sleep once more. Alexia seemed to notice, and though she would keep Anaís in her arms forever if she could, the only other person she would let her go for is you. 

“Take her. She’s okay. She’ll fall asleep right away with you.” Her voice was so soft, the contrast of it then compared to before, it made your heart ache. 

You didn’t stay on that note too long as you tried to ignore the lump in your throat. Instead, you reached for your daughter instead, being careful to keep the peace that’d finally found her. Alexia lay her in your arms and you leaned back against the headboard, cuddling Anaís as close to you as you could get her. It wasn’t until now, with her in your hold, that you realised just how much this whole thing had affected you. There was no point in fighting off the overwhelm of emotions that started cascading over you. If Alexia felt guilty before, it increased by an astronomical amount when she saw the first glimmer of a tear stream down your cheek in the low light of the bedroom.

She let you have your moment with your baby, knowing it was the main thing that could ground you then, and she’d wait for her turn when you had the space for it in your mind. The brunette knew, after her earlier actions, that she was low on your list of priorities, that she understood. She made a low blow and hated herself for it.

“We’ll keep her in here for tonight. Try again another day.” You mumbled, closing your eyes and resting your forehead against Anaís as she began to doze off. Alexia nodded and left it at that, she could read between the lines of your words as you wrote the conversation off for the night. 

The light weight of your daughter, there was no greater comfort in the world. The second she was away from you, it felt like half your heart had gone with her; you only felt whole with her around, something you never expected to experience before becoming a parent. You simply weren’t you without your new little family. 

Time ticked on a little, it being so quiet in the room you could hear the hands of Alexia’s watch on her bedside table tick by. Anaís didn’t shuffle or stir once, she was almost always at peace with you, something that filled you with both pride and relief. It was enough of a remedy for the tumultuous turn the night had taken, that you leaned your head against Alexia’s shoulder with a tired exhale. The small action turned the midfielder’s whole mood around, unknowingly needing you just as much as you her. Even if sometimes you didn’t feel it, or you did but you rejected it, you would always need her. She���d always need you. There were some occasions where your reliance on each other overpowered your anger, you both needed to get better at recognising that. 

So even though you were still mad, you gladly leaned into her more when she wrapped an arm around your shoulders and placed a kiss on your temple.

“I’m sorry. More than you know.” Alexia murmured, and you didn’t even have to look at her to know there was a self-deprecating frown on her face. Normally you’d kiss it off her or brush the wrinkled lines away with your thumb, but you let this one linger a tad longer. “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn’t mean it and I could never mean it. I’m so sorry, amor. I swear.” 

“It really hurt, Alexia.” You blurted out. You didn’t know you had things to say, but there were words rolling off your tongue anyway. “Don’t ever use that against me again. You… made me feel like a bad mother and you’re the last person in the world that’s supposed to make me feel like that. It really did hurt.” 

Your voice cracked as you spoke, your eyes never moving from your daughter. Still, in your peripheral vision, you saw Alexia turn her head away for a second as she let out a sharp breath. Sharp because it felt like she’d been stabbed in the heart with your honesty, your much needed honesty, but painful nevertheless. It was entirely her fault, she knew that, and to know she had made you feel so wrecked was something she would never forget. It’d be on her mind for the next god knows however long, until she feels deserving to not be reminded of such idiocy, only as a result of you knowing you were a good parent. The best parent. Until you remembered that again, she’d be stuck wallowing in her regret forever. 

After she collected herself again, she turned back to you, attempting to discreetly wipe her tears away that’d come back when your voice wobbled with emotion you never should have felt in the first place. Her arm that was still around you hugged you tighter, and she repeatedly pressed her lips to your forehead as if she was trying to kiss away the hurt you described. 

“I’m sorry.” She whispered once more, suppressing a sob as all that ran through her mind was you, the offense you must have taken, the doubts that must be running rampant in your head, all these things you never should have to experience yet you did then because of her own stupid actions. “You are the best parent, I swear my life on that. On everything I have. There is no one else that could give Anaís the love you give to her. You’re the love of my life, the love of Anaís’ life. She looks at you like you’re the only person that exists, she adores you, and that’s because of how amazing you are as a mother to her. Look how she has settled now. You’re her favourite person in the world.”

Even though her earlier words still echoed in the background, something about the soothing, sincere way she apologised hit something inside you. This version of her was the version you knew, the one that knew exactly what you needed to hear and when, even if what you needed now was a result of her own wrongdoing. But she was human, she made mistakes, and despite the fact that what she said before rang deep, you knew she didn’t mean it. She wasn’t the type of woman to say something like that and mean every syllable, she couldn’t be further from the opposite if she tried. She was the type to love you when it was hard, to care for you when you pushed her away, and to give you the world when she herself didn’t have the strength to carry it. The important thing was that she tried, god she was the most determined person you’d ever met, and she’d be damned if she didn’t try her hardest to get you to forgive her. 

Hell, you’d made some choice words once or twice to her over the years, you wouldn’t be a good partner if you didn’t give her the same grace she always gave you, no matter what. This time, when tears came to your eyes once more, it was because of her words again, but for totally different reasons. Hearing her talk so warmly and honestly about what she thought of you as a parent never failed to strike you right in the chest.

“You really think that?” You sniffled, gazing down at your sleeping daughter through blurred vision and feeling the soft smile Alexia had to give rather than seeing it, her cheek pressed against yours. 

“I do. You are her entire world, amor.” The brunette replied without a shred of doubt. 

Her fingertips of the arm she had draped around your shoulders lightly trailed up and down your skin in a comforting gesture, yet another reason for the tears that quietly made their way down your cheeks. She noticed, but she didn’t speak. Instead, she chose to take the moment with you, a silent reconciliation where any further words weren’t necessary. The evening had been filled with frustration and, consequently, too many exchanges rife with vitriol that had led to this point. Now, with most of it behind you both, the tension began to dissolve and your focus could be averted back to the important things; your baby, and each other.

Anaís, despite her rosy cheeks and slightly runny nose, was calm again. And that calmness bled into you and Alexia, bringing the two of you down from your heightened states and relishing in the serenity in the room. A combination of Anaís’ muffled snores, Alexia’s steady and forever unwavering presence and hold, and the newfound stillness around meant you could breathe a little easier, think a little clearer. It provided a moment of much needed clarity, where you recognised that any challenge you came across, whether that be in parenthood, your relationship, or the two combined, you could get through them. 

When you woke up the next morning, you had a feeling you’d feel more sure and certain in your capabilities as a parent and partner, with a better sense of the strength you possessed to tackle any obstacles that cropped up in the future. Most importantly, however, you weren’t alone. Though you wished you didn’t have to go through these sorts of things, they provided an opportunity to grow, and you weren’t going to bypass that just to hold a grudge. You wanted to let her know that you were well on your way to forgiving her. 

“I love how she is sleeping like she didn’t nearly cause a war.” Alexia commented some time later, the pair of you breaking into very quiet laughter, fearful of disgruntling Anaís. “How beautiful she is, no?” 

“I know. But it’s a bit vain to say that, Ale, when she’s entirely your DNA and not mine.” You teased, grinning at the shake of her head and soft chuckle. 

“Nuestra pequeña. Qué afortunados somos.” Alexia stated ever so quietly, almost intelligibly, in complete awe. You shared the sentiment, a smile on your face when the brunette leaned down to graze her lips against the young girl’s forehead. 

“The luckiest.” You agreed in a breathy whisper, utterly consumed with love for your daughter, and the woman at your side. 

“I know she has to sleep in her room eventually, but for tonight, we have her in here. And maybe, I don’t know, we think of a different approach. It isn’t working for her and it’s not fair on any of us.” You nodded immediately, mind already reeling with idea after idea to make it an easier transition for everyone. Ultimately though, after the night that’d already been had, now wasn’t the time.

“We’ll figure it out tomorrow. We’re all exhausted.” Alexia hummed her agreement with a yawn for good measure. 

After a few more minutes of cuddles with your family, you cautiously put Anaís down into the cot next to your side of the bed. Having already done your own night routine long before the events that had occurred, you climbed into bed and lay on your side facing your daughter, like you did nearly every night. Alexia did a quick check around the house, locking the doors and grabbing anything the three of you might need overnight as she always did, before sliding under the duvet behind you. Her lips found your shoulder, followed by her arms wrapping around you and hugging you tight back to her. 

“I love you. Always.” She murmured against your skin, nuzzling her face into the back of your neck.

“I love you too, Ale.” You said back easily, because it was easy to say those words to her, no matter what had happened. Some truths were simple. 

The next day, you found a new system for Anaís bedtime. One that was extraordinarily better for all of you, and worked almost seamlessly. Some nights were a bit harder than others, and she did end up in your room every so often, but it wasn’t long before she was sleeping in her rooms every night and only waking up a couple times. And when it was time for your second child, your son Oriol, to adapt to his room, the two of you had it down perfectly. That blip with Anaís was merely a distant memory.

—

“Anaís, no, you can’t throw your food at me!” Alexia sighed exasperatedly, bending down for the hundredth time to pick up her daughter’s dinner that was more on the floor than her plate. 

Days where you were out working and Alexia was left alone with Anaís were days she treasured. Except, when the two year old seemingly decided that she didn’t feel like treasuring them and instead didn’t want anything to do with her Mami, things weren’t so fun. 

The morning had been bliss, with the three of you spending it lazily in bed until 10am where you finally had to get up and get ready to leave, which was when everything fell apart. The second the door closed behind you, the what should be quiet house was then filled with the sharpest cries one could imagine. It took twenty minutes and too many persuasion tactics from Alexia to get her to calm down, which included a small bowl of chocolate buttons in front of the TV, something so out of the norm for a morning with Anaís. She screamed and screamed anytime the brunette tried to change her into clothes other than her pajamas, and the same went for when she tried to put some shoes on her. So that threw the day’s plans out the window, substituted for a day at home instead, where Alexia had no idea what to do with both Anaís and herself.

Alarm bells were already ringing loudly in her mind at the out-of-character behaviour from her daughter, but no matter what she tried, she couldn’t get to the bottom of it. The toddler didn’t seem ill, she wasn’t showing any signs of injuries that Alexia could see, she’d had a great night's sleep the night before, and nothing else was out of the norm. She wasn’t the type to behave badly on purpose, or at least hadn’t until that point, and Alexia didn’t believe that was what the case was. The midfielder was left completely dumbfounded. 

And it remained that way for the whole time you were gone. In fact, things got worse. Hardly half an hour went by without tears from Anaís and concern that was unknowingly turning into frustration for Alexia. All sorts of things started running through her mind, thoughts she hadn’t had in a long time, not since her daughter was a tiny sub-10-pound baby whose fist fit around her pinky. With each show of defiance, of utter distaste for her Mami, and every scrike that shook the walls of your home, the doubts began to creep in for Alexia. They snuck in quietly, disguised by the sounds coming from Anaís, nestling deep in the back of her head and growing nearly every second. 

When dinner time came, of which even just getting Anaís into her chair was a struggle, her confidence as a parent was in tatters. It’d been thoroughly wrecked, she didn’t even know how the pair of them had survived the day. But the worst was yet to come.

No less than five minutes in and almost her entire dinner was scattered across the tiled floor of the kitchen. What hadn’t made it to the ground had gathered on Alexia’s shirt. The tears came back in full force for the younger girl, and the excruciating pain it was to listen to it nearly evoked the same reaction from the footballer. Never had she felt so lost, so not worthy of being a parent. She didn’t feel at all good enough for her daughter, something she always worried she’d feel but never actually believed it was a point she’d reach. Well, she had, and it seemed like a pit she’d spiralled into that she would never get out of again.

You came home at precisely the right time to save the situation from becoming any worse. You closed the door behind you and went to call out to your family, just to hear what could only be described as terror. Anaís’ shouting voice echoed from the kitchen to the hall by the front door, paired with Alexia’s panicked ramble as she tried to extinguish the situation. At that, you rushed to put your things down so you could go in and see what seemed to be going so wrong.

“-please! Anaís, we’re okay, it’s okay! Mi amor, I don’t know what to do for you, wha-”

“Ale? What’s going on?” 

When you walked in, Alexia looked like she could have cried from relief. Anaís calmed instantly, like the day hadn’t even happened. Her arms reached out for you whilst Alexia slumped back in her chair, slamming an empty plastic bowl that once had fruit in it onto the table, and putting her head in her hands. 

“Of course she fucking settles with you.” 

Whereas such a phrase may have sounded venomous to anyone else, to you, the person that had spoken to her every single day since you met her all those years ago, you knew the sentence was coated in frustration which was aimed entirely at herself. And the accompanying sniffle she tried to disguise after it too told you everything. When she got angry, especially at herself, she got tearful. Because she wasn’t an angry person; she was afraid of disappointing others. Which, in turn, filled her with fury that burned her from the inside out. Barely two seconds in the room with her and you knew it must’ve been a terrible day for the both of them, and that Alexia was wracked with a devastating amount of self-loathing.

“Okay, okay. She didn’t eat much dinner, I’m assuming?” You checked gently, being met with a scoff and a shake of her head where it was still in her hands, hiding the turmoil that’d be visible on her face with the tears that no doubt streamed. “That’s fine, we can deal with it. Could you go run her a bath for me? Take a moment away from all this and run her a bath so I can try and get her to eat something before bedtime?”

The two year old, with wispy strands of her brown hair sticking to her cheek from a combo of sweat and tears, rested her head against your shoulder and tucked her face into your neck. She seemed tired, exhausted even, something that didn’t exactly come as a surprise given what had apparently transpired during the day. However, you weren’t certain that she was properly feeling like herself, something told you she wasn’t doing too well. 

Per your request, Alexia left the room as soon as you spoke, head bowed as she left which was just another example of the mental state she was in. It concerned you, both of them concerned you, and it took everything within you to keep a frown off your face at the ache you felt in your chest as a result of the situation you were faced with. Almost all your questions were solved when you grabbed the thermometer from the first aid box in one of the kitchen cupboards and found that Anaís had a temperature. 

You rushed to fix her a bowl of cereal, all care for what she ate out the window, so that you could give her some medicine as soon as possible. She ate some of it, albeit reluctantly with a bit of defiance, but enough that satisfied you for the night. Leaving the mess for later, you cuddled your daughter close to you as you headed upstairs to where Alexia had a bath ready and waiting. The brunette sat on the edge of it, hand dipped into the water to check it was just right, before she turned the taps off and dried her fingertips on her shirt.

“Ready?” You hummed quietly, her jumping a little and standing abruptly, turning around to face you. 

Her face was red, much alike Anaís’, and it seemed her emotions were still overwhelming her. She gave a quick nod, before mumbling something about going downstairs to clean up and going to rush past you. You, on the other hand, were having none of it.

“Hey. Hey, hey, hey.” You reached a hand out to carefully grab her wrist, Alexia not putting up a fight as you did so and stopping in her step. You turned her to face you, but she didn’t look at you. So you dropped her hand and raised your own to her cheek, a tender touch that had her inhaling sharply at the softness of it. “She’s okay, she’s eaten now and she’s calm, she had a temperature so I ga-”

“She had a temperature? But I checked twice today?” Alexia cut you off in alarm. Immediately, she put the back of her hand on Anaís’ back under her shirt to find her skin was running hot. “I checked twice, this morning and only a couple hours ago, it was normal, I sw-”

“I know, I know. It must have only come on in the last hour or so, but she was probably feeling unwell all throughout the day. She’s had some medicine, she’ll start feeling better any time now. Don’t worry about it, Ale. Everything is alright. I’m gonna bath her and put her to bed, I’ll come find you after and we can talk, okay?” It seemed the midfielder forewent a reply because she wasn’t sure if it were words or sobs that would come out, so she nodded once more, avoiding your gaze. You leaned up and kissed her forehead, smiling sadly at the tears drowning her eyes. “I love you. I’ll be with you as soon as I can.”

Later on, with Anaís fast asleep tucked up in bed, it taking no time at all for her to doze off, you came downstairs to total silence. The kitchen and lounge, which were both once a mess, were spotless. The horrors of the day had been erased, and Alexia was nowhere to be found. 

Through the window, you could see evening turn to dusk with the sky painted a deep orange that faded into light blue. There wasn’t a cloud in sight, only a small crescent moon and trails from planes that’d flown overhead. And there, staring at the view of the city from the backyard of your home, was the one person you were looking for. 

Alexia was sat on the edge of the stone wall where patio stones turned to grass, leaning back on her hands that rested on the bricks, shoulders shuddering infrequently with her sporadic breaths. Without being clued up yet on exactly what had occurred whilst you were away, you knew it’d been a bad day for her as a parent. You felt for her, heart a little broken at the psychologically wrecked version of her you’d come home to. You’d been in her place a number of times, and she never failed at making you feel invincible with her love and care afterwards, no matter how far you’d spiralled down. Tonight, she needed you.

The defeated brunette definitely would have heard you open and close the door, as well as your footsteps, though she gave no reaction to either. You wandered over, rounding the wall and sitting beside her. You looked at her, really looked at her, but she kept her eyes averted, glancing at everything apart from you. Her knee was bouncing, her posture was tense, and there was still a steady stream of tears down her cheeks that she ignored. You didn’t want to overwhelm her, or worsen her mood, so all you did then was rest a hand on her thigh, and give her some time to decompress a little. Or, so you thought.

“I don’t know what went so wrong today. I don’t know what I did.” She started to ramble quickly, sniffling and stumbling over her words with her shoulders up to her ears in a shrug as she tried to defend herself to you. But she didn’t need to defend herself, you didn’t blame her for a thing. “I-I got the thermometer out and checked her twice, it was normal, it was fine. I didn’t recognise she was… she was ill. She was sick all day because of… because of m-me.” 

As she spoke, it sounded like she was about to break. It’d been so long since you’d heard her like that.

“Ale, she’s fine. She won’t even remember today when she wakes up in the morning, tomorrow is a new day and-”

“Do you think I’m a bad parent?” The question she cut you off shocked you, and it took a second for it to register before you frowned at her and squeezed her knee.

“Alexia, of course I d-” She stood abruptly, shaking her head incessantly. 

“No, because I missed so many signs today, it’s my fault she had such a bad day. I messed up so much I just didn’t get anything right, I would understand if y-”

You got up and stood in front of her, hands on her face to stop her panicking and to ground her. Still, she refused to meet your eye, but you gave her a soft yet firm look.

“I don’t, Alexia, I never could.” 

She nodded in response before she properly processed your words, and when the realisation did settle in, that’s when she cracked. Her forehead fell to your shoulder and her hands linked loosely around your waist, leaning into you as sobs ripped out from her. You wrapped your arms around her tightly, turning your head a little to leave a few kisses on her cheek every now and then as she cried, a reminder you were there for her. One of your hands rubbed up and down her back comfortingly as she let out all the pent up emotions into your shoulder. You didn’t move. You stayed right there for her.

“Anaís is okay, you’re okay. Everything is okay, Alexia, I promise. It’s just a bad day.” You whispered as she began to calm, hand still moving up and down, just slower but still reassuring. “She’ll go to Eli’s like normal if she’s well enough tomorrow, and she’ll have the best day there because you know she’ll get treated like a princess. You didn’t miss anything because there were no signs to miss, you said it yourself. You checked, twice, like any good and loving parent would, and nothing concerning came up. That’s not your fault.”

There was a minute nod against you, and you’d take that for now. You turned again to kiss her cheek, lingering for longer and hugging her impossibly tighter after. A minute or so later, she leaned back in your hold but you didn’t let go for a second, and she wiped her eyes on the sleeve of the jumper she’d changed into at some point whilst you dealt with Anaís. Then, finally, she met your gaze, defeat and exhaustion along with some taunting guilt that still hovered around, all present in her red, puffy eyes. 

“Is she upset or, maybe, angry? At me?” She asked cautiously, to which you smiled and shook your head with a click of your tongue.

“She’s your daughter, she doesn’t get angry at the people she loves. Especially not her Mami.” You answered with ease, with certainty. Even though you hadn’t outright asked Anaís how she felt about the day, you knew one thing and that was she didn’t feel any of those things towards Alexia. Never could.

“She was earlier. For most of the day.” Alexia feebly argued.

“No, she’s ill, and as a small toddler in such a big, scary world, she doesn’t know what to do when she feels like that.” You reassured her, reaching a hand up to tuck a loose strand of hair that had fallen from her bun back behind her ear. “Don’t blame yourself anymore, please. Because Anaís and I don’t, nobody does. Tell that huge brain of yours to shut up for once.” 

She let out a quiet chuckle, and though you’d heard that sound a thousand times before, it was music to your ears then, no less than it was the first time you heard it. Walking to your table on your first date, Alexia close behind you with her hand on your back, you making a stupid comment about how overly hard the waiter was trying to impress your date, clearly having recognised her, and her softly chuckling down your ear. You shivered then at the sound, and you shivered there, in the backyard of your shared home, your daughter asleep inside and attempts for a second child actively in progress. But the shiver this time was, rather unfortunately and not so romantically, due to the chill of the evening as the sun bid its goodbye with the horizon.

“I make no promises.” Alexia murmured, resting her forehead against yours and letting her eyes fall shut. 

You smiled, noticing the difference in her already compared to when you first stepped outside, and tilted your head a bit to leave a kiss to her lips. It caught her by surprise, and she opened her eyes again to find you, the love of her life, gazing at her with all the love you had to give and more, not a single part of you believing the doubts that weighed her down. It helped her to remember what she did everything for and why; for her family. Always. You, Anaís, and any future children if the pair of you were to be so lucky. A bad day was a drop in the ocean, it was an ounce of misfortune compared to the pricelessness of your lives. It would stick in her mind for a little while, but how could she focus on that when she lived a dream everyday. 

—

Your fortune only grew when you fell pregnant with your third child after months of failed IVF attempts – a son, named Oriol, who was the mirror of his older sister, something that only became more and more true as he grew up. Anaís flourished in her role, absolutely infatuated with her baby brother and desperate to do anything to help her parents whenever she could. For some time, the four of you lived in a perfect little bubble of pure bliss. All the talk about how difficult it was going from one child to two seemed far away, everyday was… perfect. 

You were never much of a morning person before becoming a parent, but having two children didn’t really leave you much of a choice but to become one. Alexia had been, and she often took those early sunrise shifts because she treasured them. When Anaís was a baby that didn’t have the boundless energy of a toddler, she was always more than happy to sit in her Mami’s arms as she woke up. On warmer mornings, they’d spend the time outside, until winter settled in and made that prospect daunting, Alexia fearing her daughter’s fingers and toes might drop off in only a few minutes of being out in the cold. 

Then Oriol came along, and mornings turned into a bit of a handful for one parent to handle. Especially because Anaís did possess an unreal amount of giddiness that was difficult to juggle with a grouchy newborn. So the pair of you found a system, a routine that quickly became something that you treasured.

Most days it was a toss up between which child would wake up first, but they usually stirred at the same time, a blessing in disguise most days. On some occasions, you’d get up and go for a walk, or out for breakfast, or to a family member’s house. But other times, of which were your favourite, you’d have breakfast in bed together, a lazy start to the day. They were a rarity more than others, with Alexia in and out of the city and the country, so you never took them for granted.

Perfect, until you went back to work, many months down the line, just as the intensity of Alexia’s football season picked up, and suddenly everything you thought you knew just… disappeared. Sure, she’d stepped away from the national team when Anaís was around a year old, but that never lightened the load of club football, which still caught you off guard every year, especially your first as a parent of two. Going from seeing Alexia nearly everyday, spending hours with her, to barely having her in one place for too long as you juggled work was more difficult than you expected. 

Even on the days she was in Barcelona, there was training and media commitments and sponsorship shoots and meetings that kept her away. You saw her at breakfast, where she rushed out with nothing but a banana and a protein shake, not before kissing your cheek and your children’s, and you saw her when she got home late in the evening, helping with bedtime before falling into bed with you and dozing off almost immediately. 

Before you could realise, you felt a distance growing between you. You felt disconnected from her world when normally your worlds were one and the same. She was still the perfect parent you knew her as, but that’s all she had time and energy for. The strain was becoming too much for the both of you, with two kids and workloads that had no limits. For some time, you didn’t know how to solve it. And that scared the life out of you.

Each morning you dropped off your children at Eli’s house, which was only three days a week as the rest you worked when you had the chance to at home, she could see the stress everything was causing you grow more every time you visited her. On the rare occasion she saw her daughter, she saw the same burden on her shoulders too. The wiser woman couldn’t let it go on any longer; one morning, she ordered that you came in and sat down with her for coffee. She was a persuasive woman, even as you argued about being late for work, she waved you off and gently took hold of your hand to lead you inside. With Oriol in one arm, resting on her hip, she moved around her kitchen with an effortlessness you dreamed of having. 

Everything took so much energy, so much mental strength, a piece of your resolve was chipped away everyday. It seemed things had gotten too much, your resolve becoming too weak, because when Eli set down your coffee in front of you, you were already in bits. All it took was the hug she gave for you to fall apart into her arms. 

After that, you took the day off work. You sat and listened, your son offering you a slice of normality, of comfort, as he slept in your arms whilst Eli gave every bit of advice she had to give. If it wasn’t for her, you dreaded to think of how far things might have gone before either you or Alexia fell apart, and if that might have manifested as a breakdown or a show of anger that could have done irreparable damage. But as you listened to her mother, you knew where Alexia got her parenting skills from, where she got her fierce care and compassion from. You were incredibly grateful for the both of them.

Eli demanded that, when Alexia got home from her game later that evening, you were to sit down and speak with her. You tried to argue that the brunette would be tired and a conversation like that was the last thing she would want to do, but you lost that fight. The older woman had you under strict instruction to get her to do it anyway, and if she didn’t, she had Eli’s wrath to deal with the next day.

Your children’s most beloved grandparent wasn’t the only saving grace of that particularly difficult period of time; the aforementioned game Alexia had that same night ended in a loss. And the effect it had on her was the final straw for her. Even without the push from her mother, the second she walked in to find you waiting at the door for her, she made it known that she couldn’t go on any longer the way you two were. She made it known by collapsing into your arms with ease, and it felt like decades since you last hugged her, properly. 

That night, you spent hours on the sofa, limbs entangled and tears soaking each other’s t-shirts, talking about how difficult things had been and how you could get past them. It wasn’t easy, it couldn’t be further from that description. There were things Alexia said that made you want to scream, shout, cry, argue about, and vice versa. Yet, you worked past it. By the time morning came, you were both fast asleep on the couch still, as close as you could where you held each other, not even stirring at the return of your children after their impromptu night at their abuela’s house, until Anaís snatched a crayon away from Oriol’s teething mouth which resulted in him letting out a piercing cry, abruptly waking the both of you.

This blip, as difficult and unbearable as it was at the time, was necessary for your relationship. It taught you things about each other that set you up for the rest of your lives together. 

An unspoken acknowledgement formed that presented itself when brief periods of busyness happened again; you learned to love each other quietly in those moments, ready to love loudly again when the storm passed. Your devotion to one another could be found in the quiet moments, like shared glances across the dinner table over breakfast and lingering touches as you passed each other whilst getting your children ready for the day. It could be found in notes slipped into the other’s coat pocket, coming home with flowers after a trip to the supermarket, guilty pleasure treats hidden in the cupboard away from the sweet tooth habits of your children that they’d definitely picked up from their Mami. 

There was an underlying agreement that whenever there was a hard moment, a disagreement, frustration at each other or the defiant behaviours from Anaís and Oriol, that you can still go to each other no matter what. Even if things went too far, you’d still end the night in each other’s arms, whether you were on speaking terms, one giving the other the silent treatment, or simply too tired to talk. And that might be the thing you treasure most about your relationship.

All these things were evident in the next large obstacle that fell before you both. 

Oriol was not quite the social butterfly as his sister had always naturally been. Nursery, to him, was torture. Being away from his family, with people he didn’t know? It was the scariest thing he’d ever had to face in the nearly three years of his life. 

The first day that you and Alexia dropped him off there, only for an hour to get him adjusted, it couldn’t have gone any worse. The ordeal left you both in tears as Alexia drove you home silently. The brunette had to stand beside you and watch as they pulled your son out of your arms, him clinging onto you desperately as the most heartbreaking sobs you’d heard in your life ripped through him. And that had been after the two of you spent half an hour showing him around and playing with him, as well as trying to leave quietly before his cries brought you running right back. 

Every part of you screamed to take him home, to never step foot near a nursery again, because you couldn’t cope with the fear and anxiety he was feeling. It hurt, physically hurt. Your heart clenched so tightly each time, you swore if his scrikes were a decibel higher, you’d go into cardiac arrest. But that wasn’t realistic, he had to go at some point and taking him home to stop that would only delay the inevitable. You just didn’t know it would be so hard.

Anaís wasn’t at all like that; the second she step foot in the small classroom, saw all the toys she could play with, saw the mud kitchen and the sand pit and the water pit, all the bikes and scooters she could ride out on the playground, it was more of a challenge to get her to leave than stay. Oriol though, he despised it.

Three days in a row, you arrived back at home with a lump in your throat and remnants of your son’s pain on you in the form of the tear drops that dotted your jumper, and you couldn’t take it. Alexia closed the door behind you both, and you immediately broke down crying at the thought of him back there, all alone, wondering why his parents had taken him to such a terrible place and left him there.

“We, we can’t take him there anymore, Ale, h-he hates it so much.” You sobbed, eyes closed as you pictured his little face, his eyes filled with betrayal, and his wobbling bottom lip when he realised you were just going to walk out on him again.

“We have to, amor, you know this.” Alexia sighed sadly, not frustrated with you, instead equally as torn up about it. 

“Alexia, he hates it! We’re his parents, we’re not meant to do this to him, we can’t keep putting him through this!” 

With a frown on her face as she tried to suppress her own emotions, she headed over to you and hugged you, holding you close to her.

“Shh.” She shushed you gently, but it had the opposite effect. You pushed away from her, the brunette stumbling backwards slightly and having to catch herself with a hand on the drawers behind. 

“No, why are you okay with this? You’re not letting anything on, why aren’t you as affected as I am?” You accused, and she had to take a breath to keep a cool head. 

This wasn’t you talking, it was your concern. It was a momentary blip that happened to the both of you every now and then. She recognised it instantly, two kids did that to her.

“We’re not fighting about this, mi amor. I’m not fighting you.” Alexia told you in a soft, calming tone. You raked your hand through your hair and huffed, not even sure why you were starting on her like that. Of course she felt just as guilty and afraid as you. “We have to do this now, at some point, otherwise we will never get him into school anyway. He will get used to it, I know he will. But it’s hard now, it’s so hard.” 

“So hard.” You whimpered, putting your head in your hands as your cries picked up again. Alexia stepped closer, her arms around you again as you buried your face into her chest.

“We’ll get him through it. I know we will. He’ll love it before you know it.” She whispered, her comforting words beginning to crack through the walls of panic that surrounded your mind, even if she didn’t know if what she was saying would become true.

The thing was, it only got tougher. Everyday he spent longer there, until you dropped him off as he sobbed for you and there wasn’t anything you could do but leave him there until mid-afternoon to pick him up. It was a wonder you got any work done during that time because all you could see was the heartbreak on his face every time you walked out of his classroom. And there were numerous occasions after that one day with Alexia where the two of you clashed over it, some worse than others. Her lack of expression about the situation grated on you, as if she didn’t care, until you stepped back and gained rationality and realised she was just trying to be strong for you.

But then, your son surprised you. One of the best surprises, one of the most relieving.

After another difficult day of dealing with his meltdowns before nursery and being extremely distracted at work, you decided to walk to pick him up. Alexia’s training had run late, something she was frustrated and a little upset with (not that she’d admit that to you) because it put her head at peace to have her son back in her sight, her arms, after seeing him so worked up in the morning. She really kept quiet about it, she let the guilt eat away at her silently rather than adding to the things you were feeling. When she was at home, she occupied herself with the most unnecessary things, because it distracted her from how the silence of the house exaggerated the cries that echoed around her mind whilst Oriol was away. Picking him up from nursery and seeing the way he ran towards you both was the only thing that made it feel worth it.

You had all the faith in the world in your son, like any parent should towards their child. Maybe it was wrong to feel so shocked, but that was the last thing on your mind when you arrived at his classroom door, saw the way he grinned from ear to ear as he played with two other boys, and laughed heartily at something one of them did. You’d seen him playing other times, though he didn’t seem so bright and happy like he did then. It brought tears to your eyes, for all the right reasons this time.

“He has had a much better day today. He is adjusting now.” One of his teachers told you when she came over, a warm smile on her face. “I know it has been hard for you and your partner seeing him struggle every morning, but today we have noticed a big difference. I think he’s happy.”

When she saw your reaction of tears of euphoria, she brought you in for a brief, comforting hug. It set in then, that as horribly difficult and unbearable as it had been, it was worth it. You did the right thing. All you could wish for in that moment was to have Alexia there with you.

Your next best bet was meeting her at training. It wasn’t too far from the nursery, and with Oriol being in such an upbeat mood, you decided you would walk there with him. Because you have to take care of the person you love just as much as your children. And it felt like, with Oriol finally happy with the day he’d had, you could turn your attention to Alexia, and pour all the love back into your relationship which had been a little neglected during that time.

You would have done anything to make the experience better for your young son from the get-go, but all the trials and tribulations just made it sweeter. The whole walk, he rambled endlessly about what he did that day. He remembered every single detail about the friends he had made, what games they played, the size of the train line they’d built around the whole classroom; you hadn’t ever seen such elation on his face as he relayed it all to you. Then he said–

“I can’t wait to go back tomorrow.” 

Each time he came home, the first thing he talked about was how much he didn’t want to go back the next day. Honestly, you weren’t sure how you didn’t break down crying on the spot. But with his tiny dinosaur bag hanging off one of your shoulders, his hand in yours, and tears burning your eyes, you couldn’t recall a better feeling whilst being his parent. All you could do was march down the streets of your newfound home and think of what the love of your life’s reaction would be.

It wasn’t just her though, it was all her teammates too, who filed into the locker room each with equally wide smiles at the surprise of seeing you both there. Oriol went a little shy in your arms, as you would expect, but he relished in the proud reactions each person gave when you told them about the successful day he’d had. Irene especially, who could have passed as Oriol’s third parent when she looked as if she could cry from pride at the news. Alexia, of course, was the last one in. 

The others left after changing, heading home after quick showers, all whilst Alexia lingered outside with a few members of staff, talking away like she always did about football. Thankfully though, to put you out of your misery, one of them that stayed behind with you shouted her in under the guise of physio, even though she was apparently perfectly fine. You could hear her grumbling about it as she came closer, making you laugh, as you sat at her cubby whilst your son wandered around the room, babbling to himself and messing with things he probably shouldn’t. 

Then she walked in, head still down, not noticing you both until Oriol’s squeal had her eyes snapping up.

“Wha–? What are you doing here?” The brunette broke out into one of the happiest, all-consuming smiles you’d ever seen her do, crouching down to her son’s height as he ran over as fast as he could waddle. She laughed giddily as he wrapped his little arms around her neck, lifting him up and hugging him tightly. 

“Oriol, why don’t you tell Mami about your day?” You prompted him, watching his face light up even more as he leaned back in Alexia’s hold so he could see her. 

“I loved it!” He beamed, a bright grin on his lips, one you hadn’t seen in so long. 

Alexia turned to you briefly as he started rambling, speaking a whole load of nothing initially as he couldn’t contain himself with his babbling. Her expression was one of astonishment, but also the most relief you had ever seen a human possess. There was a gloss to her eye that shone brightly in the fluorescent light of the locker room, one she tried to blink away when she turned back to her son.

He went on and on, just like he did to you, stuttering due to his mind working faster than his mouth, and diving in and out of a hundred stories at once. As he did so, Alexia had one hand splayed out across his back, rubbing up and down or in circles whilst holding him up with her other arm. Her eyes were wide as she listened to each and every detail he revealed, so much giddiness radiating off of him, it was hard to keep up.

“And-and then, then we played in the water and I g-got water on my jumper, but it was okay, ‘cause the teacher made it not wet again, that was good ‘cause I got cold, and then Pau finded more train pieces, so we made it more long, and-”

“Breathe, mister.” Alexia laughed, brushing back his wispy brown hair and stroking his cheek with her thumb as he inhaled dramatically. “Sounds like the best day!”

“I can’t wait to go back tomorrow!” He kicked his legs as he spoke, almost hitting Alexia in the stomach, but that was the last thing on her mind. All she could focus on were the words you got stuck on earlier too.

“You want to go back?” She asked softly, eyes darting all over his face to find a hint of the dread he had been weighed down by since starting nursery.

“Sí! Ahora!” He answered without a millisecond of hesitation, before descending into unorganised chatter.

“I am so proud of you.” She interrupted him a moment later, scattering kisses all over his face that had him squealing and pushing her away with his small hands. “I love you.”

“I love you too!” Oriol shrieked when more were pressed against his cheek. “Mama said I can have churros for dinner.” 

“Really?” Alexia raised an eyebrow as she looked at you, waving you over. When you were close enough, she wrapped an arm around your shoulders and kissed your cheek, this time a lot more civilly. “Well, I can’t disagree with that. I think you deserve all the churros we can find in Barcelona.”

The three of you laughed together, for the first time in a while, not burdened by the thought of tomorrow. No, instead, he couldn’t wait for it. Perhaps more excited for it then his churros, and that was no easy feat. What more could you ask for, other than the unbridled joy of your child, even if that was with chocolate spilled onto any surface and material he could find?

And just like any other time that felt uncertain, difficult, borderline end of the world, Alexia was there with you through it all. Steady. Calm when you weren’t. Ready to celebrate you when you needed it most. The best part was, you could tell she thought the same about you. That was a compliment you couldn’t get over. Even being a parent, having two lives depend on you, knowing that you were the person that the one you loved most went to for everything and anything, it was still something you wore like a medal. You loved being her person, loved building a life with her. Loved everything to do with her, even all the parts of her that aggravated to your wits end. You couldn’t get enough of her. 

—

Fights were inevitable. In any and all relationships, they were an impossible thing to avoid. It was rare, so rare, for you and Alexia to have ones that lasted longer than even a few hours. Yet, as was reality, there were one or two that snuck in which uprooted everything, and it was an even tougher mountain to get over when kids were involved.

With their tiny, developing, and unsuspecting brains, it often went under the radar the utter scale of things they picked up on. And you weren’t sure what was in Alexia’s eggs, but your two children ended up growing into the most emotionally mature seven year old and three year old the world had ever seen. No amount of hushed whispers and avoided eye contact could get past them; as a result of the two of you being so openly happy and in love, the second something was amiss, they could just sense it in the air somehow. It blew your mind, plain and simple. So no matter how hard you tried to keep your arguments separate from their little worlds, they always knew anyway. 

You and Alexia had your own stresses you were dealing with, you with your job and Alexia with hers, with the addition of bad news from family that weighed down on the both of you. Those things, as much as you tried to keep them on the down-low and deal with them individually, they soon became too heavy for the burdens to not be shared. But neither of you recognised that. They built and built and built, until everything came crashing down around you. 

First, it started with furrowed eyebrows and heavy sighs from Alexia as she moved around the kitchen like everything in her way was merely an inconvenience. Not you, not her children, rather the mess that had been left behind as you attempted to keep two hyperactive kids on their school breaks entertained for the fourth day they had off, which was a challenge and a half. You hadn’t had time to clean up after them as they went through the house like a tornado or a bull in a fine China shop, hoping they could keep their giddiness contained enough so that you didn’t spend your evening in the emergency waiting room at the nearby hospital. 

Whether Alexia was directing her passive aggressive frustration at you or not, you took it that way regardless. She wasn’t the one that’d had to spend the day chasing after Anaís and Oriol, she’d had a fairly inconspicuous schedule of training and some media interviews and shoots. What you didn’t know, however, was the onslaught of questions she had received about her form which had taken a slight dip in the past few games, as well as the carefully worded questions about Barcelona’s future and her future too, a topic journalists ran with the second she didn’t do well in a game. She loathed the doubts of her ability just because she was a mother and older than her peers, she knew she was still capable, and perfection was expected of her when perfection wasn’t possible for anyone.

Looking back, you knew it was immature, but you made a stupid passing comment anyway about her behaviour since she’d come home. The carelessness in the way she kicked her shoes off at the door and haphazardly left her bag beside it, the theatrics as she cleaned the kitchen, and the aversion she had to even looking at you. One sentence from you was all it took for the house to burst into flames. And with your children outside in the garden doing whatever they were doing, neither of you had no qualms raising your voices at each other.

In only a matter of minutes, there were tears streaking down your face and Alexia’s too. You took yourself away from the situation, unable to bear the venomous way the one surefire person on your team was talking to you, slamming the bedroom door shut behind you for good measure. Alexia, on the other hand, gripped the edge of the counter and bowed her head, teardrops falling onto the granite as she squeezed her eyes shut to try, and fail, at keeping them in. 

Meanwhile, outside, Anaís and Oriol found themselves rooted to the spot for the whole duration of the short fight they heard indoors. They couldn’t make out the words, slightly intelligible as they were muffled by the closed doors and windows of the house, but the damage was already done. Oriol turned to Anaís with a wobbling lower lip first, his little heart beating rapidly at the scary situation he was now presented with. Anaís noticed, and shook the fear off her shoulders before hastily walking over to him. With a determined face, her eyebrows pressed down into a scowl much alike her mother during the most intense game of her life, she planted her hands on her brother’s shoulders and, before speaking her plan, quickly kissed his forehead which calmed his anxiety just a little.

“I go check on Mama, you go see Mami. Vale?” She addressed him calmly, yet like she knew exactly what she was doing, which reassured him. Oriol thought of his big sister as someone he looked up to, he wanted to be her, he admired her. So he stood taller, puffed his chest out, took a deep breath, and nodded like he’d been handed a military mission that was due to save the world. Still, Anaís could spot the worry in his eyes. “It will be okay, Oriol. Promise!”

She removed one of her hands and held out her pinky for him. Without a shred of hesitation, he linked his own with hers and they both kissed their knuckles, just like they’d seen their Mami do with her goalkeeper teammate. Then, they marched inside, Anaís leading Oriol of course, making their way to their designated locations. Just before the door into the kitchen, the brunette girl turned back to her younger brother and gave him a reassuring smile. He smiled back, not quite as sure as hers, but confident enough that she kissed his forehead again before turning and running up the stairs. 

Oriol then turned to face the open doorway where he could see his Mami, his strong and dependent and steady parent, stood with her shoulders shaking as she cried silently. He found himself frowning, his bottom lip threatening to quiver again, before he remembered the task at hand and marched forwards towards her with a confidence he didn’t have.

“Mami?” He said gently, flinching a little at the speed Alexia whipped around to look at him whilst wiping her tears. It was futile to do so, with her already puffy eyes and red cheeks as more fell immediately. 

“Hola, mi príncipe.” The midfielder replied, voice cracking as she choked down her sobs at the flurry of emotions drowning her in that moment.

“Qué pasa?” He asked, stepping closer to her and reaching out his hand for her to take. She did, squeezing his and finding comfort in the soft weight of it in her hold. 

“Nothing.” Her natural reaction was to shrug it off, but it wasn’t right. One look at his face, the depth of his concern far too deep for a boy his age, told her she should be as honest as she could whilst still protecting him.  That was her job after all. “I am a little sad, Oriol. I’m sad because your Mama is sad too. We said some silly things to each other. But it is okay, we are allowed to be sad. I… I…” 

Her emotions got the better of her again, tears dripping off her cheeks and dampening her t-shirt as her son stood and watched. He fumbled internally for a moment, growing upset at the sight of his normally strong and steady Mami, and thinking hard on what she normally does when he cried. 

She hugged him, until he stopped, and long after that. So that’s what he did.

He stepped forward, slipped his hand out of hers, and wrapped his arms around her thigh. She wiped her eyes so she could see clearly and looked down, seeing the curiosity on his face of if he’d done the right thing or not. God, if he only knew. 

Alexia leaned down, hooking her hands under his arms, gently pulled him away, before sliding down to sit back against the cabinet and bringing him back into her. She crossed her legs and placed Oriol in the gap left, before wrapping her arms around him this time, hugging him as tight as she could without hurting him or scaring him off. He hugged her back, a proud smile on his face that he’d got it right. 

What was occurring upstairs, however, was a different story. 

Anaís crept in with the subtlety of a marching band, trying to read the room before she went ahead with Plan A, and if necessary, she would switch to a gentler approach of Plan B. She found you lay in bed, crying, but trying to hide your face from your daughter due to the avalanche of emotions you were experiencing. However, when you factored in who she got her genes from, you should have known better. 

“Excuse me.” The younger girl started, standing beside your bed with her hands on her hip and a look on her face that was all too familiar to one the person that caused this would make. It made you laugh, quietly, but also cry a bit more. So Anaís softened, moving to sit on the side of the bed and taking hold of your hand. “Are you okay?”

“I will be.” You sniffled, an ever so dramatic statement. Anaís looked at you skeptically, like she didn’t quite trust you. “Mami said some mean things to me.”

Her face changed then, an obvious one that not even the most oblivious person could miss. 

“Did you say some mean things to Mami too?” 

Your silence, paired with the sheepish look on your face at being caught out by a seven year old was more than enough for her.

“That’s not fair, Mama! God, you are both so stupid.” She groaned, slapping a hand over her eyes. If you didn’t know any better, you’d assume she was seventeen.

“Excuse me!” You scolded lightly, with no real threat behind it. 

Anaís sighed disapprovingly, a shake of her head to tie off the performance, before laying down next to you. She copied your position, pausing for a moment as she thought of what to do with herself, before laying an arm across your waist like she had seen Alexia do sometimes. You smiled at her, and copied her, which she then replied with an expression that mirrored yours.

“You shouldn’t argue with Mami. It makes you both sad.” Anaís commented, one of those things that a kid says that pulls at every heart string you have. 

“I know. But it happens sometimes, it shouldn’t, but it does. Adults argue over big things, like you and Oriol argue over who gets a piggyback first.” Strangely, her eyes lit up at that.

“You were arguing about piggybacks?!” She exclaimed like it was the most exciting prospect in the world. You laughed loudly, one that cleared the fog a bit and brightened your mood.

“No, god no. Something a bit more adult than piggybacks unfortunately. Really boring, nowhere near as exciting.”

“Well, if it was boring, then why did you argue? If you’re going to argue, it should be over something interesting at least. Like piggybacks.” You smiled in amusement, leaning forward to kiss your daughter’s forehead. Your children had a marvellous habit at making you indescribably happy at any given moment. 

“You make a good point, Anaís. Very good.” 

“Exactly. So why would you be mean! You love each other!” She fought her point again. If only things were so simple. But then again, maybe they are, when you look at it from a different perspective. 

Was there any real reason for you and Alexia to argue then like you did? You could hardly even remember how it started beyond a few passive aggressive sighs and slams of cupboards and an unnecessary jab. And those were really ridiculous reasons to start a fight. So maybe it was that simple.

“If I bring Mami upstairs, will you say sorry to each other?” Anaís wondered. It was then that you realised, beyond her joking nature, this whole thing had gotten to her quite a bit. Her and Oriol hadn’t ever really witnessed such a big blow-up like this before. You felt guilty for it, immeasurably so. 

“Only if she says sorry to me first.” You joked, holding back a laugh when Anaís rolled her eyes again. “Fine. Go get her.”

It wasn’t your kids’ job to be the emotionally wise ones of the house. It certainly wasn’t their job to fix adult arguments. That was supposed to be your responsibility, as well as Alexia’s, and you had failed. You were just glad your children had the maturity you momentarily lacked to provide some much needed clarity (and humour) to a situation that could have ended up worse.

“Mami, go upstairs. Now.” Anaís demanded as she stepped into the kitchen. 

Oriol was in Alexia’s lap then, sat on her thigh as he fidgeted with her wedding ring whilst they spoke quietly. The older woman’s tears had dried up, but the heartbreak on her face was still evident. Oriol, once he’d spotted Anaís, ditched Alexia and went over to his sister instead. That left the brunette on the floor of her kitchen, shirt damp with tear splotches, eyes red and ego bruised. But per her daughter’s demand, she nodded, got up off the floor, and left the kitchen, not before leaving kisses to their temples.

With a knuckle, she knocked on the bedroom door delicately, then walked in afterwards. Before the door had even closed behind her, there were two eavesdroppers waiting behind the corner of the wall for her to go in so that they could wait at the door. If Alexia’s attention wasn’t on you, and vice versa, you both would have heard the quiet thump of footsteps that stopped just outside of the room.

“I… was sent in by a very angry seven year old.” Alexia started, unsure what to do or say. You rolled onto your back and sat up against the headboard, hands fiddling with the corner of the blanket.

“I was lectured by a very angry seven year old.” You replied, the slightest hint of a smile on the midfielder’s face that spread to your face not long after. “I think they formed a coup against us.”

“I think they did.” Alexia agreed, moving away from the door and taking a seat on the bed in front of you, crossing her legs again. 

Neither of you said anything for a moment or two, and Oriol let out a frustrated huff outside the bedroom that Anaís shushed him for. Still, the two of you didn’t catch it. Alexia’s hand reached out to trace her fingertip over the pattern on the duvet below you both, a silent offering. Your hand landed in front of hers, accepting it. She linked your fingers together then, some of the pressure lifting from her chest as she squeezed your hand.

“I’m sorry. For saying what I said. And starting an argument.” You went first, knowing that you should, since you were the one that started it and let it descend into something it didn’t need to be.

“I’m sorry too. I… it was a bit stupid, wasn’t it?” Alexia grimaced, making you giggle just a little, just quietly. But it was enough for her.

“It was. We’re both a bit stupid sometimes. But thank god we’ve got two smart kids, right? Don’t know how that happened.” You teased back, this time the pair of you laughing. 

“Oriol hugged my leg and I think it made me cry even more.” You smiled sadly at that, shame crawling in that he felt the need to do that. All you could think was that he shouldn’t have had to do that.

“Anaís actually called us stupid too. Even they recognised it before we did.” You admitted with a shake of your head, a sentiment Alexia shared. Then it fell silent for a moment or two, and your smile fell into something more downbeat. “I think we need to be parents for a little while before we can sort us out. They shouldn’t have to do this, Ale. We… failed.” 

Alexia frowned deeply, one that wrinkled her forehead so intensely it was a wonder they didn’t stick. 

“We’re allowed to mess up sometimes, amor. They’re kids, they don’t expect perfection from us even if they don’t realise it. They want us to be okay, I don’t think that means we failed.” Alexia pointed out. She could see you arguing in your mind with yourself about it afterwards. “I hate that they saw it and felt like they had to fix it, I hate that too, don’t think I don’t. But it’s not a failure. We’re still here, they’re sat outside the door waiting for us, we’re all okay. They know they argue from time to time, but they still love each other. It’s no different for us.”

“I just…” You breathed out shakily, swallowed hard, and dropped your voice to a mumble. “I don’t want them to think this is what love looks like.”

The brunette softened then, immediately. She shuffled closer to you, sitting at your side, her body positioned towards yours, and wrapped an arm around your shoulders as she leaned her forehead against yours. 

“They know what love looks like. They see it between us everyday. They will remember this, but they will remember the rest too. Like me kissing your cheek and their cheeks before I leave in the morning, how ‘I love you’ is the last thing we all say at night. They know there is so much more to love, but… arguing is sometimes a part of it too. Maybe it just makes it a bit more real for them, even if we want to protect them from this side of it.” 

Wise, as always. One of the most emotionally intelligent people you knew, even if it took a year or two for her to reach that point when you first got together. Her perspective on everything, especially since becoming a parent, had shifted. Now, in moments like this, she always knew what to say. And what a moving thing to state at a time you felt your parenthood fracture into two. With some perfectly placed words, handcrafted to a T, that crack was sealed with gold.

Later that night, she said near enough the same thing to your kids. She made it known, in easier phrases, basic enough for their age, that it wasn’t their job to uphold your relationship. They shouldn’t feel the need to fix it, that that was a mistake on your behalfs. Yet, simultaneously, she explained that instances like that happened every so often between parents, between two people that loved each other. Even though Anaís didn’t seem too pleased about that, she certainly seemed to sleep easier after it. The next morning, it was like nothing had even happened. Thank god for pancakes.

—

No matter how many years had passed, how many times Alexia had to travel for work, you never missed her any less. That surprised you, honestly. At some point along the way you thought you would get used to it, and you did, to some degree. You just got better at handling it; didn’t mean you missed her any less at all. Probably more, actually.

Since retiring from the national team, her trips away had gotten much shorter. No two or three week long camps some place in Europe, no summer-long tournaments. Just a night or two away for a game before getting the earliest flight back she could get away with. 

That meant, the first long trip in quite a while hit your family harder than expected. Not in a way that was hard or difficult, there was a routine for it now. But there was just something missing from your home, the atmosphere of it changed. Ten video calls a day couldn’t change that. All that mattered, to you and your children, was having her back. Having her presence, her energy, her love, in the house again. 

When she first mentioned a two week pre-season camp in Mexico, you already felt that uncomfortable twist in your stomach just at the idea of it. There was a weight behind your eyes too, not quite tears, just a heaviness, like your body was already bracing for her absence. Those two feelings paled in comparison to what it was like as you stood on your doorstep, Anaís and Oriol beside you, watching her get into a taxi with her suitcases. The kids had been quiet for the rest of the day, missing her, not knowing what to do with the love they had for her without having a place for it to go. 

The morning before her planned flight back home, you woke up to a notification from her. No text, just a screenshot. A confirmation of a new plane ticket, due to land in Barcelona that night. The excitement that energised you for the rest of the day was boundless, much to your childrens’ confusion. Due to the very late hour of her arrival compared to their bedtimes, you didn’t want to tell them about it, apart from that the next time they woke up, she would be home. And that was the truth, because you had no doubts that Alexia would go into their rooms to see them, maybe even let them sleep in your bed for the night. 

You were pacing in the hallway, nervously flitting from room to room, making sure it was tidy even though you’d cleaned already and done a hundred once-overs, checking your phone, as you listened out for her arrival. You felt a little ridiculous with how your breathing stuttered every time a car passed by.

And, finally, when the door lock clicked at midnight, the light fluttery feeling in your chest hit its peak, stronger than you ever remember it being.

You froze in the midst of your pacing, in the hallway as the door opened with a creak that always annoyed her, one you never fixed just for moments like this. Your hands fidgeted with the hem of your shirt as she walked in, suitcase dragging behind her, duffel bag landing with a thud beside the shoe rack. She closed the door, shoulders slumped with the exhaustion of travelling, sighed quietly, and lifted her head up at the shuffling sound she heard of your slippers against the wood slats. Then, she gave that easy, lop-sided, quirk of a smile, the one she saved just for you, and you were moving. You didn’t greet her – instead, simply wrapped your arms around her back, hers landing around your neck and pulling you closer to her, if at all possible. A second or two of silence passed, until her soft chuckle was muffled against your hair.

“You missed me?” She hummed teasingly, her voice low and scratchy with tiredness. 

“A little.” Didn’t matter what your reply was, the embarrassingly raw emotion in your tone said it all for you.

Her grin pressed into your cheek as she turned her head, forehead against your temple, like the mere contact of your skin was recharging her soul. It was, if you asked her. 

You pulled back slightly, intending on looking at her, taking in the sight of her home again, but she surged forward to kiss you, foiling your plans as she let out an almost relieved breath against your lips. Her nose brushed yours, and it wasn’t the tidiest one you’d shared, but the way her hand came up to cradle your cheek and the softness that her lips moved with against yours was more than enough. You felt at home again, which was a little silly because you weren’t the one that had left for two weeks. But it was the truth.

“Mami?” 

A sleepy voice from the top of the stairs interrupted you both, your cheeks pink but hidden by the low light of the house bar one corner lamp, the pair of you casting your eyes up to your children staring. Anaís was there, one pant leg rolled up to her knee, most of her hair falling out of her plait. Oriol stood slightly behind her, blanket in one hand and his favourite teddy in the other.

“You are meant to be asleep.” Alexia told them both with a smile, watching as their eyes widened, like they had just processed who they were talking to.

All of sudden, there were two pairs of feet racing down the stairs so fast you thought they were going to fall through them. Anaís approached her at full speed, you hardly having enough warning to move out the way of her, giving Alexia the time to greet her children and brace for impact. Oriol trailed behind a little slower, dazed and confused. He didn’t even know 00:00 existed on a clock.

“Is it morning?” He asked, blinking like he had to think about it. You laughed quietly and shook your head, though he wasn’t at all interested in you, and you couldn’t even be mad about it.

Alexia was crouched down, Anaís wrapped in one arm as she opened the other for a waddling Oriol. He dropped his belongings and walked straight into her arms, half-asleep, adorning a dopey smile when she pulled him into her. She hugged them like she hadn’t seen them in a year, which is understandable when you’re all used to a night or two away. Two weeks in comparison to a precariously built routine that hardly lasts 48 hours feels like a lifetime. 

“You’re really home?” Anaís mumbled, clutching Alexia’s jumper collar in her fist like it was half a threat and half a hope she didn’t disappear again. Oriol watched the brunette’s face keenly, waiting for her answer, like his life depended on it.

“I’m really home.” She murmured in response, kissing their foreheads one after the other. Both of them shuffled closer to her then, trying to get as close as possible, to make up for lost time.

You watched from afar, leaning against the wall, arms crossed and gazing at the reunion of your family. Anaís’ fist didn’t budge, and Oriol clung to her arm, sleepy and clingy. You saw the way Alexia adjusted her hold on him, letting him bury his face in her neck before standing with the pair of them in her arms. She turned to you, a down-turned smile on her face, one that conveyed her adoration for the two tired beings curled into her. Now that she was home, they had settled immediately. The world was back on its tilt, the house no longer felt too big, the chests no longer missing a piece. Everything was right again.

“Go put them to bed. I’ll be down here.” You told her, not wanting to take away her time with them. She nodded, a grateful look in her eye directed towards you. You met it with a smile, then watched as she walked upstairs with two dead-weight children in her arms, hardly breaking a sweat.

Sometimes it did catch you off-guard, how much you missed her when she wasn’t with you, how much you loved her even all these years later. But all you had to do was take one look at her, see the admiration in her eyes when she gazed at her children, see the warmth and wonder she greeted you with every morning, to remember what it was that had you so content in your life. Because even after so much time had passed, she still looked at you like you were the best thing that had ever happened to her.

By the time she came back down, the house was quiet again. No thumps of feet against the floor as Anaís avoided bedtime to show Alexia each and every drawing herself and Oriol had made whilst she was gone, no requests for stories through slurred voices with drooping eyelids. Just the two of you, the hum of the fridge, the flicker of the lamp in the corner, and the gentle thrill of being together again that had your heart skipping still.

“They’re bigger.” She commented as she walked in, eyes fixed solely on you where you waited for her again. She came over to you, and that same fluttery feeling from earlier returned with every step she took.

“They always are when you come back.” 

She looked at you, then squinted a little.

“You okay?” She asked. “You seem… nervous.”

You nod your head, before breaking out into quiet, disbelieving laughter.

“I just… I’m happy you’re home again. I had like… butterflies whilst waiting for you. I have them now.” You admitted, blushing at the ever-so-slightly proud smirk on her face. “It doesn’t even make sense. We’ve been together for… feels like forever. We’ve been apart so many times, for longer than this one, but… I don’t know. I always miss you when you go. Never changes.”

To your surprise, she tilted her head and smiled, before saying, “Of course it makes sense. I always miss you too, so much. I was nervous on the ride here, and walking up to the door. It took me three attempts to get the key in the door.” 

You laughed at that, openly and freely, because you could, because the love of your life was home again, in front of you, indirectly admitting that she still loved you just as much as you loved her.

“I was too nervous to even hear that.” You said, heart clenching at the soft giggle that sounded through the room as a result. 

“I have something to tell you. Something to admit.” She stated, out of nowhere. 

“What is it? Did you leave your passport in the taxi?” That was met with a roll of her eyes and a click of her tongue.

“No, idiota. Come here and I tell you.” Her hand outstretched to take yours, tugging you closer. You stumbled a little, but she caught you, of course she did. Her arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you tight to her, her chin falling to your shoulder, mouth beside your ear. “You’re my best friend.”

You laughed, again, but there were shivers down your spine that told a different story.

“You always say that.” It was true, she did. At random points, like it was a detail of her life she didn’t want to forget, yet also couldn’t believe. 

“Because you are.” She grinned, gummy and full of heart. Then a yawn broke through her romantics, delirious and exhausted giggles spilling from the both of you. “That was a long two weeks.” 

“Without your best friend?” You teased, Alexia humming her amusement.

“Sí, exactly.” She went quiet for a moment, before speaking again. “You really are, you know? I don’t say it to be… funny. I really mean it.” 

Your heart warmed, your cheeks blushed. Again. For the thousandth time since she came home.

“I know.” You whispered, leaning back to leave a kiss to her lips. She held it longer than you planned to, reminding you of exactly what you’d missed. “It was a long two weeks. House isn’t the same without you.” 

Alexia smiled again, though it was slightly fuelled with guilt. Or maybe… regret. Like travelling for football wasn’t something she wanted to do for much longer. But her reply didn’t match the look on her face.

“I hope Anaís and Oriol find someone who loves them like this someday.”

It came out of nowhere, a quiet thing, said with ease like it wasn’t the most profound thing you had ever heard her say. You sat with it for a moment, taking it in, until you realised it had stirred something within you. Not dramatic, not loud, there was no fanfare. Just… a content revelation. 

You didn’t respond initially. You only looked at her, at her profile in the low light, the tiniest quirk of her lip that was always there when she spoke to you, the ease of which her hands rested against your waist. Like they belonged, which they did.

And you thought to yourself, because it was such a profound thing to say, and it wasn’t even really about you. It was about your children and the hope that one day they’ll be loved the way you’ve been loved. Not with grand gestures, but with consistency. A soft, everyday kind of devotion. There in her arms, this revelation of yours grew. It built a home for itself in the back of your mind that won’t move for the rest of your life.

If they find this kind of love, then they’ll be okay.

Even when things get hard for them, when the world demands things you can’t protect them from, when you’re not there to guide them through it. Someone will be. Someone who chooses them over and over, like Alexia does with you. 

You leaned back forward in her arms, inviting yourself into your embrace, which she immediately accepted as her arms tightened around you. There, something within you settled, something you couldn’t quite put a finger on. But something that felt like accomplishment as a parent. 

“You loving me like you do, it’s shown them what to look for. I can’t be so scared for their future when you’ve given them that gift, Ale.” 

That time, it was her turn to be left speechless. 

Her tired mind was too exhausted and sluggish to think of a reply worthy enough to express how much that meant to her. And if she dwelled on it for too long in such a vulnerable state, she might cry. She didn’t have the energy to cry.

“We haven’t done so bad, have we.” She mumbled against your shoulder, her body instinctively letting out a sigh of relief at the comment. Almost like it was confirmation to herself that she had done what she needed to do, both as a parent and a partner. That was all she wished for. Truly.

“I think we’ve done better than we give ourselves credit for.” You hummed, Alexia huffing a breath of laughter. She was minutes away from falling asleep in your arms. 

“We need to go to bed. We’re getting too soft. They will make fun of us if they catch us.” You giggled down her ear, and it echoed in her chest. Sparked the fire there that had dimmed whilst she was gone.

“Younger us would think we’re so lame.”

“Mm, no, not lame. I think they would be proud. We have come a long way.” 

“We have.” You agreed with ease, thinking back on the years that had passed in what felt like just a blink. “But one thing has stayed the same.”

Alexia hummed curiously, eyes most definitely closed as she held you in the middle of the kitchen of the house you’d bought together, the home you’d built.

“I love you.” 

A simple statement that hadn’t missed a day of your relationship. One thing that linked the both of you, all the way back to when you were two nervous, giddy, lovesick but too scared to say so, people that had no idea what the future held. 

Still, it seemed, you were nervous, giddy and lovesick, but now a little older and not afraid to say it. Certainly not afraid to share it with your children. So maybe, on paper things had changed, but in retrospect, a lot was the same. You had grown, individually, and come together to form something that’d last long after death do you part. Your children would carry it, their children would carry it, and so on. You stayed the same people, whilst creating something bigger than the both of you without letting it affect your relationship. That was something not many people could brag about. 

You were sure that, when you were both old, in your sixties, seventies, eighties, and beyond, should life let you, that you most definitely would brag about it. Hell, Alexia already bragged about it. You couldn’t blame her; the life you had made together was the greatest achievement you would ever do. Nothing could compare.

“And I love you.” 

Nothing could compare to that either.

—

i wish i could make this twice as long, that i could include the scenes i had to cut out, and just never end this story but the woso tumblr audience nowadays unfortunately does not Iike such a thing and it would most likely get v boring (as if it isn't too long and boring already lol) there's writers out there that could convey the summary of the final scene in a third of the word count in a single scene, so yes it is unnecessarily long but🤷🏼‍♀️ it was a nice distraction writing it and i'm sad it's come to an end lol. if you got this far, thanks for sticking with it and i hope it was enjoyable <3

[neeeooon]

Can I get a request of a reader being from a foreign country she is a gamer but she knows nagi from discord and playing games with him. And she decided to surprise him and pop up in Japan. That’s all I got🤣 run with the rest

yess this is so cute TY FOR THE REQ 💗💞

143 means i love you

nagi seishiro x fem!reader. oneshot, fluff. wc: 1.5k

you joined the japanese server to test your language knowledge. plus, you were sick of children screaming slurs on the english server. you didn’t expect to find such good gaming chemistry with someone in another country, and you didn’t expect to give him your discord after.

usernxgi: so we can play tgt again :x

you: sure! but my japanese is awful :’)

usernxgi: u dont need 2 speak japanese 2 play this game lol

you: Die

you and the stranger, whom you learned was named nagi, played several games afterward. however, you didn’t start playing on call until your sixth match together, when you nearly lost because the in-game chat glitched out and cut off your only form of communication.

there was an obvious language barrier the first time you spoke, but nagi was right when he said you didn’t need to speak the same language to play. you understood more than you could say, so when nagi would say “go left” or “back me,” you’d obey without needing to reply.

the relationship between you continued until you were messaging back and forth every day, whether you played together or not. you even trusted him enough to give him your number, and he spammed you with cat memes for two days before eventually growing bored. due to the time zone difference, you'd fall asleep wishing him a good day and wake up with good morning texts.

you: gmmmmm <33

nagi: gm y/n :) how did u sleep ?

you: good! if u aren't busy today, we should play together

nagi reacted "🤍" to your message!

it was a comfortable relationship, and you tried not to dwell on the fact that it was digital. months went by, and you found yourself wanting more and more from nagi. you loved talking and gaming with him, but you wanted to do simple things like go to a movie or eat dinner together.

that's when you got the brilliant idea to go to japan.

nagi told you where he was attending uni after you were deemed trustworthy, and you were following a few of his friends on instagram. they made a chat with you to help teach you japanese, but it dried up once school started again.

when you reached out to his best friend, reo, with your plan, he was more than willing to help. he offered to pay for your flight and hotel, but you politely turned him down (rookie mistake) and instead asked him to show you around the city a bit before you officially met nagi.

reo: do you need a translator? i could set something up for you!

you: noo that's okay!! i've been studying and taking japanese classes at my college :))

reo: okay! i'll have a driver pick you up at the airport

reo: don't say no, he's already been booked and paid for

you: ....... thank you :')

reo: anything for my best friend-in-law!

you were a nervous, shaky mess when your plane landed in japan. you followed reo's instructions and the english directional signs plastered around the international airport until you spotted a man in a suit holding a sign with your name. you blushed ferociously and sped-walked to the man, flashing him a tight smile as you waved awkwardly.

"hello," you greeted in japanese, and the man took your bags before leading you to his limoseine.

you: a limo?? really??

reo: ;)

it surprisingly didn't take as long as you thought it would to reach reo's penthouse. he was waiting outside for you with a blinding smile, and you were caught off guard by how purple his hair looked in person. "y/n!" he shouted when he saw you. "nagi doesn't know you're here, right?"

"no, i wanted to surprise him..." you rubbed your arm, suddenly unsure if this was a wise idea or not. you wanted to see nagi, but maybe you should have discussed your trip with him first.

the light tap of reo's knuckles against your shoulder pulled you from your thoughts, and he flashed you a small, comforting smile. "don't worry. he'll be super excited to see you! well, maybe not super excited, he isn't the type to get very emotional, but i'm sure he'll smile!"

reo helped you get settled in your hotel before giving you a brief tour of his favorite places in the city. "oh! this is where nagi and i went to high school! i taught him how to play soccer here."

eventually, he got a phone call from a certain white-haired boy, and your stomach twisted anxiously. reo caught your expression and beamed. "come on! i told him i'd bring food over for dinner."

after picking the food up, you followed reo to nagi's apartment. he helped you read signs in japanese when you struggled with your pronunciation, and before you knew it, you were standing outside your online friend's door.

this is a bad idea, you mentally scolded yourself. reo entered the code and used his foot to open the door. "nagi!" too late to back out, now!

"huh, reo?" you heard from inside the apartment and halted. his voice was the same in person as it was over the phone, yet hearing it this clearly startled you.

reo gestured you to follow with the tilt of his head. "i have something for you. come here."

"i don't wanna," he grumbled, and you smiled. he really wasn't any different in person than he was online. after a few rounds of gaming together, he usually gave up and got himself killed first so that he could sit back and watch you and his teammates play without him.

you weren't expecting him to round the corner so suddenly, but your breath caught in your chest when he did. he was dressed in grey sweats and a hoodie, both too big to fit, but what really caught you off guard was how tall he was. his voice was on the softer side, so you weren't expecting someone 6'3.

he blinked when his eyes landed on you. you stared at each other for a moment, taking several moments for the situation to process, before nagi stepped back around the corner and out of sight.

"uh—" you cut yourself off when he appeared a moment later with hair not as messy as it'd been before. nagi raised a hand, and you could tell he was trying to keep his grin at bay by the way his lips twitched. "hey."

a giggle bubbled in your chest as you waved back. "hi, nagi."

reo looked between the two of you with a crazed grin. "oh! it seems i have a meeting i completely forgot about! you two will be alright without me, i'm sure. bye!" he didn't give either of you a chance to reply before sprinting out the door, manic laughter following him down the hallway.

you and nagi stood, silently staring at the spot reo had just been standing. you didn't feel uncomfortable in your online friend's presence, but it was a bit awkward as you struggled to find something to say.

thankfully, nagi broke the silence and tipped his head to the side. "wanna game?"

☆ 🎮

"no fair!" you shouted in frustration as you lost... again. "you know the controls; i've never played this before!"

the soft sound of nagi's laughter filled your ears, and you felt your face heat up. "this is bullying."

"cute."

"it's an abuse of power!"

"mmm, yep."

you glared at him and the little upward curve of his lips. "teach me how to play."

"nope."

"why?!" you gaped.

nagi's head tipped back against his shoulders, eyes lazily meeting yours. "i like when you're mad. 's cute."

your mouth snapped shut. whatever creative comeback you were planning evaporated from your mind, and you found yourself struggling to remember how to speak japanese.

"jerk," you managed after a few moments, and he laughed before saying in broken english, "no english, please."

you switched over to a game you were both familiar with after that and finally started winning. the two of you played until the sun set and the delivery food was gone. stretching your arms over your head, you reluctantly stood and placed the gaming controller on the charging stand. "i should probably go to my hotel,"

nagi let out a silent yawn as he followed suit, charging his controller and standing beside you. "ok. should i walk with you?"

"isn't that too much of a hassle?" you teased, and nagi shrugged. he never gave verbal confirmation, but he shoved his hands into his hoodie pocket and followed you when you exited his apartment.

you breathed in the night air and sighed, smiling when you felt nagi's baggy sleeve brush against your arm every few steps. "i'm happy i got to meet you."

"me too."

"we should hang out again tomorrow if you aren't busy," you offered, sparing him a quick glance to find him already looking down at you with a faint smile. "okay."

[eccentricwritingbaby]

home

lewis hamilton x reader

summary - a small drabble of lewis coming back home from a race to his wife and babies. 

masterlist 

-

8:26 pm.

that’s when lewis’ flight was landing. the captain had announced it over the intercom and he let out a breath. it was currently seven, so there were only a few more hours before he’d be home. 

lewis loved racing, he loved the adrenaline, the atmosphere, he loved winning. but he loved you more. and he adored your children. you had a small three year old girl, isabella, and just had a newborn boy, noah. since noah was so small, you had stayed back the past few races and lewis couldn’t stand it. after an exhausting race or an energetic high, all he wanted to see was your smiling face. 

having dated for three years, married for four, so overall by his side for seven - lewis hated to be apart from you. you were his rock, his comfort, his encouragement, and his support. with your job being beyond flexible, you rarely missed races - which lewis is now learning was something he took great advantage of. when isabella was born, he was on break between seasons, therefore when it started again she was old enough to tag along with you both. noah being born mid-season, lewis was experiencing a separation anxiety like no other. he was itching to see you, to hold you, to hug and kiss his babies, and overall to relax.

he was constantly tense when you weren’t around, worried about yours and the kids well being along with the pain and stress from being apart. not many were able to tell other than a few superfans who read deeply - noticing when asked about you in interviews his eyes would lightly gloss over, eyebrows knit slightly, and his words would come out with a tinge of melancholy. or when he would be in his driver’s room after a race, alone, and toto would walk by, noticing his strongest driver showing his only weakness. 

but even though the separation hurt, there was nothing like coming back home.

8:26 pm.

his flight has landed and lewis is jumping out of his seat with newfound energy. grabbing his things in haste, he rushes off the private plan and towards the car waiting for him. it was too much of a disruption for you to pick him up this late, the kids already put down and you most likely nodding off yourself. therefore lewis opted for a car, and thirty minutes later he’s exiting it and walking towards your shared home. his footsteps are filled with anticipation, a small jump to them as he holds himself back from practically sprinting into the home. 

from inside, you hear the keys fumbling around from your place on the couch. you swiftly and softly stand, making your way to the door in order to rush into your husband’s arms as soon as possible. the past weeks have been hard on you as well, wanting to be by your husband's side constantly. you didn’t want to be apart from him a second longer than necessary, flinging open the door before lewis had a chance to unlock it. you don’t even let him get a chance to enter before your arms are flying around his neck, his own dropping what he held and trading it to hold you instead. you both let out long breaths, a show of your anxiety finally exiting after being apart. 

“missed you so much,” he mumbled into your shoulder, slightly rocking you both back and forth. 

“missed you so much too,” you sigh into his neck, breathing in the scent you loved so much. him. separating slightly, but not completely, he leans down to meet your lips in an eager, yet tender, kiss. after the time apart, the first kiss back always left you tingly, the feeling always migrating from your lips to your entire body. it was a spark that you always had with lewis, yet came into full effect whenever he was gone for a while. 

you separated again, only slightly, and giggled into him, “i love you, lew,”

“i love you too, baby,” he smiles sweetly, dropping down to plant a few more pecks to your lips before grabbing his bags and going to move inside the house.

he smiles as he walks through the home, smelling the candles you always light after dinner, spotting the little indent from where you sat on the couch, seeing the small playmat that was still set out from where noah most likely was while you were cooking. noticing the plate of food wrapped up on the counter - the leftovers you always leave out for him to eat when he gets back.

he smiles as you drag his luggage over to the bottom of the stairs and make your way into the kitchen, moving to heat up his dinner for him. he hops up onto the counter as you hand him the plate, you standing in between his legs. he eats and recounts the entirety of the weekend, as per your request, telling you about the drama, the race, the interviews and everything else. 

you both were too wrapped up in each other to notice a tiny pitter patter of feet making their way down to meet the both of you. isabella had heard slight commotion and knew her dad had finally arrived home. ever the daddy’s girl, she needed to see him as soon as possible and climbed out of her bed, pushed back the hair from her face, and went on her excursion to the kitchen. 

“dada?” she whispered from the doorway. both you and lewis turned, slightly shocked she was awake, but also heartwarmed at the little sleepy girl in her footie pajamas. 

“hi, bug,” he whispers back, sliding off the counter and making his way to her. he brings her up to sit on his hip, hugging her as she holds onto him in return, “i missed you, lovebug,” whispering into her hair. 

“missed you too, dada,” she burrows herself even further into her father, “don’t wike when you go,”

“aw, bug, i don’t like when i go either,” he chuckles a bit. you slide out of the kitchen after cleaning up lewis’ plate, letting the father-daughter duo have their moment. making your way to his bags, you lift them and begin the trek upstairs towards your bedroom. once inside you check on noah, still too little for the nursery as he sleeps in a bassinet beside your bed, and then move around to unpack your husband’s essentials in order for him to go to sleep easier tonight. 

as you’re bustling around between your bedroom, the adjoining bathroom, and closet, you start to hear the small voices soon approaching. lewis saunters in, isabella still tightly holding him, and he makes his way to the smallest in the family. cooing lightly at the little boy, trying not to wake him, lewis basks in the feeling of his family all together in one room. something he will never take for granted.

you walk towards him, letting him know all his essentials were unpacked if he wanted to get ready for bed and he nods, dropping a kiss to your cheek as a perfect thank you. moving to put isabella on your bed, she begins to whine, not wanting to let go of her dad. 

“i’m just gonna have a shower, lovebug, i’ll be quick, okay?” he speaks softly to her.

“pwomise?” she asks, eyes giving the most puppy dog expression you had ever seen. 

lewis chuckles at her sweetness, leaning down to kiss her head, “i promise, bug, and then you can sleep with mummy and daddy tonight,”

“otay,” she giggles, crawling across the bed to get under the covers and make herself comfortable. you and lewis share a laugh as he makes his way into the bathroom, about to take a record-breakingly quick shower in order to be back with his girls soon enough. 

finally ready for bed, he exits the bathroom, seeing you and isabella cuddled together as she attempts to fight sleep, waiting for her dad to be back soon. 

“scoot over,” he smiles, getting into the bed. isabella scooches over, her dad finally arriving in the bed and laying an arm out. you make your move to lay on it, also wanting to be close to him. now that lewis is comfortably laying down, isabella crawls on top of him, deciding her spot for the night would be right on his stomach, head nuzzling straight into his neck. you copy her actions, moving closer to your husband and laying your head on his other shoulder. 

lewis sighs in content and happiness, home with his two best girls cuddled into him and his little boy sleeping away just a foot over. he pulls his arm that was behind your head to wrap around your waist, bringing you closer to him. his other arm wraps around isabella’s back, gently stroking her to sleep. he can be world champion seven, eight, times - yet nothing beats being home with his family.

-

[ink-stainedkiss]

Husband Sukuna Ryomen Headcannons

Husband!Sukuna who is completely wrapped around your finger, but would never make it known. He has slaughtered thousands, is feared by his own village, and is a horror story to children. Yet, he enjoys resting his head in your lap and falls asleep peacefully as you play with his hair. As one would expect, Sukuna wouldn’t dare to show the soft side of himself, as it’s reserved for only his adoring wife.

Husband!Sukuna who feels off whenever you aren’t right next to him. No matter where, if you aren’t standing with him, he shifts uncomfortably and ends up calling for your presence. When Sukuna realized he had these unfamiliar feelings for you, it was decided that you could never get rid of him.

Husband!Sukuna who is too stubborn for his own good and can not for the life of him express his feelings. His bull-headed attitude always made disagreements turn into petty fights. You had learned that it’s better to give him space, rather than go back and forth.

Sukuna had done it again. He had killed off an innocent servant without a second thought. You couldn’t help but feel guilty that Sukuna didn’t face you with his merciless personality. There were only a selective few that the King of Curses didn’t wish death upon if they served no purpose. As you got word of why the poor servant was cut into pieces, you felt frustration build in you at the insignificant reason for her demise. You marched to your shared chamber, a deep furrow in your brow, and unsurprisingly, Sukuna was ever peaceful, reading a book on your bed.

“Is something wrong?” He hummed boredly, not looking up to meet your hardened gaze,”As a matter of fact, yes.” The king raised a curious brow, but shared no more interest,”What is the issue?” Standing unwaveringly, you plead your case,”You killed off a servant girl.” Sukuna nodded shortly,”I did. Is that all?”

Your jaw tightened,”You did it with no reason at all.” Sukuna gave you an indifferent look, clearly not seeing why you were upset,”She knocked over one of your vases, I had every right to kill her,” Your hands turned into fist,”No you didn’t. It was just painted clay, we could have gotten another one from the town’s potter.”

Sukuna set his book to the side, anger beginning to grow,”That was a gift. Are you telling me that you show no care toward my gracious offering?” You pinched the bridge of your nose,”No Sukuna. I loved the vase, it was beautiful,” You gave him a desperate look,”But that girl didn’t deserve to die over a simple mistake.” He looked you up and down, his tense expression unmoving.

“I detest your ability to forgive someone so easily.” You felt your hope run out at his heartless response. You exhaled softly, beginning to turn away. Sukuna noticed your change and he felt a sharp pang in his chest. Moving towards the door, you turned over your shoulder,” I apologize for wasting your time,”

Sukuna reached out and tried to call for you, but his chamber door was already shut. The king tossed his head back against the headboard and let out an audible groan.

Husband!Sukuna who replays your saddened voice over and over again and realizes he has to make it up to you. It was clear you were passionate about this topic and all Sukuna did was make it worse. So even if he’s completely terrible at voicing his apology, he understands that’s the only way to make you feel better.

Husband!Sukuna who seeks you out all throughout the estate, rushing past the workers and making them jump at his fervency. After searching for what seemed like forever, he goes to the last place in his mind. The gardens. This place was for Sukuna to rest in and for Sukuna only, that was until he found you. The two of you shared the sacred space often, just whenever you needed a moment of quiet. The garden was fenced off and only a certain few could enter the premises.

Husband!Sukuna who lets out a sigh of relief as he finds you sitting alone near a thin river.

Sukuna calmly walked over, sitting down next to you, and it was almost comical to see this beast of a man resting by your side. The silence between you two was agonizing, but you seem unbothered. The king carefully moved his head, revealing a pure white rose,”I plucked this for you. Its beauty reminds of you.”

Despite your anger, his words made your heart flutter, and you took it quietly. Your fingers fiddled with the delicate petals,”Thank you,” Sukuna wasn’t greatly pleased with your words. His mind ran laps around what he should say and eventually he spoke up,”I will try to be more…pitying.” Your head whipped around, facing your husband in shock,”Really? Would you do that?”

He let out a lenient sigh, giving you a short nod,”If it makes you happy, then I shall.” Sukuna knew you were giving him those pathetic eyes that made him feel all warm and gross, so he didn’t meet your gaze. Before he could continue, your body was leaping onto his, making the King fall onto the grass with a small groan.

His face was decorated in tiny kisses and you thanked him endlessly,”Oh, thank you Kuna. I’m forever in your debt.” Sukuna rolled his eyes, staring up at you as you halted your persistent kisses,”Don’t say such foolish things. You’re in no one’s debt and you never will be.” His words made your smile wider and once again he was smothered in your lips.

It seemed like merely a fable that the King of Curses was letting out belly laughs as his wife showed him so much affection.

Husband!Sukuna who tells himself that nothing, no living or dead creature shall take you away from him, and he would rain hell on the earth if they dared to try.

[oonalovesastarionssimpleplan]

Astarion – and the image we expect to see when we think of a victim.

No, this isn’t meant to be a plea for you to stop hating Astarion.

This isn’t a "But look what he had to go through! Go give him the world”.

This is meant to show how different victims of violence can be – and how arbitrary it often is when we choose to feel compassion, and when we don’t.

Let’s take the same trauma, the same environment – but two different personalities experiencing it.

there will be two different pictures of a person

Victims are different. Just as different as all of us are.

Astarion’s life changed in an instant. One moment, he was a magistrate walking home. The next, he was a vampire locked in a cell. Hunger. Violence. Prostitution.

Constant surveillance, judgment, punishment. Torture. Rape. Watching others suffer the same.

Love and compassion – forbidden. No one to help. No way out.

Two hundred years.

If you try to imagine that, try to picture yourself in that situation – it’s unimaginable.

And injustice like that exists in the real world too. Children. Women. Men.

So why do some people feel no sympathy for Astarion?

Because he’s mean – and that means he deserves it

Because he doesn’t act like a victim?

– not like the victim we imagine in our heads.

And this happens in real life too.

⚠️ Trigger warning: SA and child abduction

Those who know the case of Natascha Kampusch – a girl abducted and kept in a man’s basement for eight years, who escaped – may also know that she was demonized in the Press.

And why? Because just days after her escape, she gave an interview – and she didn’t cry.

She didn’t look broken, fragile, or psychologically shattered. On the contrary: she sat upright, calm.

This isn't how we imagine a victim. In our minds, the conclusion could be, 'they couldn't have found it that bad.' maybe it is a bad person themself

But here’s what we need to understand:

People react differently to trauma and danger. Fight or flight. That’s instinct.

We develop different coping mechanisms – also instinctively. In moments of extreme stress, our subconscious kicks in to protect us.

Sometimes it makes us feel nothing. Sometimes it makes us even laugh.

It tell us, it's not that bad. We adapt, try to align ourselves with the abuser to survive.

This even happens in hostage situations (Stockholm Syndrome).

Astarion survived 200 years of unspeakable evil.

His coping mechanisms are incredibly strong.

But our idea of a “real” victim is someone who cries, rocks back and forth, and needs comforting.

Real victims, however, often had to learn to be so strong that no one – no one – sees how vulnerable they really are.

Which only means they endured far more than any human mind should ever have to.

And i think we don’t have to see him as a victim. Or what a victim should be Like.

We can see him as a fighter – one who finally, after all this time, is allowed to lay down his weapons.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

cute j word stuff 😳

J WORD LITERALLY HASN'T GOTTEN AN EVENT SSR SINCE THE FIRST HALLOWEEN EVENT IN OCTOBER 2020 🤡 (and even then, his role in that event wasn't massive; Twst was still trying to iron out its kinks in event stories back then).

i'M SO HAPpYN THAT HE FINALYLR GETS TO hAVEQ ANTOHER EVENT SSR aND HAV EFUN ANd bE SO sdORDADlBLE IN ULTRAMARINER TOWN fwgvkjwvkwi3qrt463t87pteqgadgnafho OTL It feels like forever since he last got this much delicious new content…

Here’s a list the things J word did and/or said in Eternity Float that I found really cute. This is in no particular order; just consider this a stream of consciousness!! This also only covers episodes 1-3 of the event; the rest of Eternity Float doesn’t come out until May 5th so I may make a separate post for that.

Bro calls it FATE when he pretends to run into Yuu and Grim at Ramshackle. F A T E.

When Jade asked if Yuu and Grim would like to go to a wedding with him, the phrasing was such that he could easily be mistaken as inviting them to HIS wedding. Did he ask it like that on purpose just to mess with them 💀

Jade witnessing an Eternity Float as a child and loving that he got to see the desperate bride and groom screaming as they clung onto their rowboat for dear life… Of course he’d want to participate in one himself, JUST TO SOW MORE CHAOS.

NOT HIM LOW-KEY MAKING EVERYTHING A COMPETITION. Racing to be the first to a bench, catching two crabs AT ONCE in the water instead of crabs skittering on land, suggesting rock, paper, scissors to settle who will be the person to go without crab for dinner…

ALL THE MIND GAMES???? Manipulating Riddle and Malleus (and Rook, but Rook basically needs no convincing to go along with Jade’s invite) by using their weaknesses—Riddle’s wish to maintain the dignity and honor of a dorm leader, Malleus’s desire to be invited and included in group activities—against them… Bro fr played them like fiddles 🎻

CALLING US HIS “close friends”????????? Idk y’all, do you boot your “close friends” out of their home while you hold their house hostage OTL

Jade bluntly telling his mom “Azul did not wish to see you, mother” AnD THEn ALSO HAVinG THE AUDACITY tO ENCOURAGE HER TO TAlK WITH AzUL AS MUChsAS ShE WANTS NEXt TIME THEY vISIT HOME… Azul, Jade is NOT on your side for this one.

He’s absolutely killing that outfit 😭 GOOD JOB PICKING IT OUT FOR HIM, LEECH MAMA

HUMBLE BRAGGING ABOUT HIS CRAB-CATCHING SKILLS

Clowning on Grim for “using himself as [crab] bait” 🦀 (Rook’s the one who was concerned for Grim, Jade just smiled at Grim’s suffering…)

Him casually mentioning that the Mostro Lounge’s tuna sandwiches use the tasty canned tuna from the Sunshine Lands… Somewhere in the distance, you can hear Azul clapping for this free ad placement.

Calling a stray cat a DOG.

Not only acting out for the puppet show but putting forth the extra effort to use different voices for the different characters (INCLUDING barking for Max the dog). This makes me feel like Jade would be really great at reading picture books to his (hypothetical) child or children!! Or even reading to a whole group of them at like a library event or something.

Buying souvenir puppets for Azul and Floyd!! And then inviting their peers to a puppet show at the Mostro Lounge to pressure Azul to fulfill a promise. That means, in just ONE, Jade has invited Malleus go TWO things: the wedding and to a puppet show at a later date. Jade’s literally breaking all kinds of records here.

Eating his portion of crab VERY conspicuously, just to subtly rub it in Grim’s face 💀

Jade knowing so much about Ultramarine City, even though he wasn’t born there. (I barely know anything about the place I was born in, so this is really impressive to me.) True, he did visit quite often to learn about and prepare for life on land, but I think it’s great that he’s consistently curious and wants to keep learning new things all of the time.

Georgina telling us more about Jade as a little kid 🥺 how he and Floyd would always be in sync when it came to mischief, even if their interests differed and they often spent time apart…

Learning that Jade manifested his magic in his last year of elementary school, two months after Floyd!!

He gets to eat his favorite food… octopus carpaccio… Jade goes into such detail about it, it’s like he’s a judge in a cooking manga. And he gets to enjoy mushrooms (porcini orzo) too!! I’m so happy seeing that he’s eating well 🍱

Intentionally slicing the prosciutto pizza into slices of different sizes SO HE CAN WATCH HIS CLASSMATES FIGHT OVER WHO GETS THE BuGGEST PIECES. He would have gotten away with it too, were it not for Rook intervening—

Teaching Riddle and Malleus how to row the boat!! Jade is actually a really good instructor.

Giving a big, dramatic speech about how they should absolutely obey his every word (because the sea is so dangerous, and one wrong move could mean death)… only for him to use this as a pretense to absolve himself of suspicion when he fucks with them 💀 LIKE HE SORTA ShAMES THEM WhEN THEY QuESTION WHY HE DIDN’T CORRECT THE DiRECTION THRY WERE SiTTING TO ROW.

TRICKING RIDDLE AND MALLEUS INTO SHOUTING “Fight on, fight on!! Go, go!!” AND ALSO SING WHILE THEY ROW while having completely serious facial expressions… and getting Yuu to record all of this silliness for posterity 😭

He taught Riddle and Malleus how to row in a straight line but not how to get back… and let them row so far out that they struggle to hear his other directions from the pier.

aHHHHHhHHhhHGgggghhhhhhHHHHHHH J WORD ROWING THE rOWBOaT FOR US IN THE RHYTHMiC, THE KISS THE GIRL RHyTHMICCCCCCCC 🙂‍↕️ HE’S PriNCE ERIC, HEm’S pRINCE ERiCING SO HARD RitFHT NOW 🗣️ (Yuu has a dialogue option after the Rhythmic; YOU CAN CALL YOUR EXPERIENCE “romantic”, THIS IS NOT A DRILL)

Jade speaks Italian this event!!! It’s not full sentences, mostly just short phrases (primo piatto, secondo piatto) and words (ristorante, taverna, names of dishes, etc.) dhshwjdvkekw BUT I STILL FIND IT CHARMING, OKAY.

The way Georgina comments that Jade has gotten very good at using cutlery?? Implying he used to be so much clumsier?? Yeah, I know we all start off with no knowledge but this is significant because his twin, Floyd, just wings everything and can do so well with minimal effort sometimes. Floyd is a genius—but Jade is not. Jade has to work hard to be good at stuff, it doesn’t come naturally to him—and I think that’s really admirable.

Some of his responses to Yuu dialogue choices are cute 😭 Some standout moments: 1) if Yuu says they didn’t recognize Jade with his new hair, he says he must have Yuu get to know him better 2) if Yuu is successful at catching a crab, Jade suggests that they go after bigger game someday do you count as bigger game, Jade—, 3) if Yuu expresses hesitation to dance, Jade essentially replies with, “Not to worry, I will take the lead. No matter how bad you are [at dancing], I will support you.” STONE COLD backhanded kindness 🫣

Jade gets nostalgic seeing all the townspeople dancing in the plaza… It reminded him of when he was clumsy with his feet. Watching those mesmerizing movements gave him the motivation he needed to keep practicing walking and then eventually running. Again, another example of Jade having to work really hard to get to where he currently is!!

Georgina calling her own sons [name]-san (an honorific usually for strangers or to indicate politeness) kills me every time 😂 ShE’s WVEN MORE FORmAL ThAN JADE. I wonder if he intentionally tries to emulate her mannerisms???

HE PRACTICED SLICKING BACK HIS HAIR FOR THIS WEDdiNG?????!?!!?!

Practicing pushing his hair back/styling it for this very event 😭

HIM TELLING GRIM THEY RAISED tHE ShIP IN THE BOTTLE FRom a BABY ShiP 🚢

My favorite moment in this event (so far) is during the dance in Port Inn Plaza. The locals see the NRC students dancing and begin to join in the dance!! Jade smiles to himself and says that this feels so exhilarating; it’s something he couldn’t ever have imagined in the past. “Thank you, everyone, for the wonderful memories.” *SLAMS HEAD INTO THE WALL* ARE YOU kliDDING ME???!!??!!!!!??????? OTL J word, this conniving liar and manipulator, ACTUALLY BEING sENTiMENTAL AnD EARnEST FOR ONCE?????? YOU MIGHT As WELL KiLL ME NOW, TGAT WOULD cAUSE mE LESS EMOTIONAL DiSTRESS.

He’s having so much fun and living his best life out here, it’s great seeing him being in his full element 😭

[stackslip]

watched through the playthrough of 1000xresist with a growing sense of "was iris groomed? am i the only one getting these vibes at all?" wondering if i was just making shit up but then in the last two chapters they drop all the stuff about mimi having a "special relationship with her" and having alone time with her while talking casually to the commander about having her inseminated, and then later we learned that iris stabbed mimi before calling forth the source to wipe out all other humans on the ship?

and already i was like OH yeah that tracks, sounds like she wasn't just experimented upon but was being sexually abused

and then it went on with my own uncomfortable feelings re the alien/the source itself and how the clones and others referred to iris's relationship to the occupants--fucking them, fraternizing, comparing it to a past boyfriend; and then i realized the jiao picture was a secretary from the source and it still acted enamoured of her and offered her massages; and then i thought of all the glimpses we get of iris's exhaustion and dissociation and lost time after every communion with the source and how closely it mirrors victims of csa's own dissociation. and how even as she abused her daughters she refused the source access to them (much to its chagrin)

and THEN secretary and the source got to talk directly and the way the source talks about iris. flat out having isolated her, targeting her bc she was an alienated and unpleasant teenage girl, calling her "my iris", practically slobbering at the thought of using her, and then secretary says "you communed with her" with the same horror one would say when they heard of a rape; and the source continues on about how iris is always going to belong to it, same as secretary and other clones--because iris's children and the source's children, by default, belong to the source

because iris was groomed and abused, first abused by her mom who herself suffered trauma and was rejected by her own mother, then her peers in a racist environment, and then experimented upon and used by the soldiers and very likely groomed and sexually abused by mimi, and then the source comes in and swoops her up, a flower ready to be plucked. it keeps asking her to get access to her own children, her sisters--"to the very end, she was so protective of her sisters. she never allowed me to listen in."

and she was still. ALLMO. she was still horrific to youngest/principal. she was forever emotionally and physically frozen in the limbo of being 17-18 and traumatized while being groomed by both an older scientist with absolute power over her, and then by an eldritch alien force who saw her emotions and trauma as something to consume and preserve in itself, that demanded more and more to the point that she began to lose sleep and time and sense of reality. when principal comes to her, she acts like they last spoke a month ago instead of a millennia. did she know? did she know her act of rage and lashing out would create a monster? was she so lost in the communion and abuse by the source that she didn't even notice the time pass? did the simulacre of jiao the source made to assuage her guilt and ptsd lie to her? i'm obsessed. iris kwan jesus christ