#guess I need to look at my budget...

[clockwayswrites]

*opens my tablet to write*

*literally falls apart in my hands*

This is fine. 🙂

[tankgotstuckinthecircusgate]

i know that when carlo suddenly decided that he needs to marry guy made a whole list in his head n like had a deadlines n shit. like it was some kind of a task he needed to do

[spacedlexi]

is anybody else out there still creating twdg fanworks 😭📢 where is everyone please dont say reddit i cant go back there

[tarantula-hawk-wasp]

🤢🤮 remembered that my rent goes up $100 a month starting in august AND student loan payments resume in September 💀💀💀💀

[mr-leach]

I mean logically it makes sense that a 24hr cold would take me more than 48hr to get over, like, that's completely in line with my current health situation and my diminished ability to fight off infections, don't get me wrong

But also

Bro I do not want to take two full days off in a row that feels like it's illegal and my body should get it's shit together god I hate living under capitalism where I have to worry about literally every hour I'm not able to work fuck this fuck this fuck this

My body is making me feel super eepy and it's a legit signal that "hey, we're not actually ready yet, you still need to rest a little longer" but 30+ years of propaganda and 10+ years of exploitation as a worker have all taught me that that is fake actually and I'm just lazy and don't have a good work ethic and if I don't push through the pain and fatigue like a good little worker then that makes me the worst kind of failure 🙃🙃🙃

[olessan]

Now that we're 24 hours out from release for Veilguard, and leaks have been happening for a bit over 24 hours, it's time for me to block the spoiler-related tags.

Despite my plans to get the game around launch, I've now been out of work (freelance stuff) for over a month and have burned completely through my savings, so it's going to be at least a month until I can partake. 🥲

I'm ambivalent to spoilers most of the time but would rather go in as blind as possible for Veilguard. I've already seen spoilers for cameos, companion quests, and romances from the leaks/early copies, but those were small things.

[musicaldeductions]

I need to pick like. one or two expensive hobbies. not like. 5

[hoshifighting]

staff!jeonghan

WARNINGS: fluff, smut, fame problems, paris trip, idol!reader is a sweetheart with her staff team, teasing, hair pulling, makeup smudging hair destroying sex, face slap, paris sex.

staff!jeonghan who started way back when your career was just taking off. you were still fresh, the kind of new that had people curious but not quite sold on the idea of you making it long term. jeonghan wasn’t even supposed to be sticking around. dude was just a freelancer, floating between gigs like it was nothing. hairdresser one week, stylist the next, maybe even photographer’s assistant if he felt like it. didn’t care much either—just did his job, got his check, and dipped.

he was there the first time you came in for a shoot, thinking, oh, here we go again, another idol who doesn’t know shit about shit, and probably treats their staff like trash. honestly, he didn’t expect anything from you. he had his walls up like crazy. you’d been doing this for, what, a hot minute? and you were already getting attention, which just made him think, “yep, this one’s probably the snobby kind. won’t even acknowledge us when she’s walking by.”

but then you went and did the most surprising thing—like blew his expectations out of the water kinda surprise. you saw him—no, not just like saw him, but like saw him. took a minute to actually chat. asked how his day was, if he needed anything while he was running around fixing the stage lights or whatever. you even remembered his name by the end of the first day, which? yeah, idols usually don’t bother with that.

fast forward a couple months, and jeonghan’s still hanging around. he didn’t plan to stay, but something about you changed that. it wasn’t even the work, really. it was more like you made things different for the whole staff—hairdressers, makeup artists, stylists, all of them. you had this habit of, like, breaking all the usual rules. you’d bring coffee for everyone in the morning, none of that half-assed, "just for my personal team" bullshit, you made sure everyone was taken care of, because they take care of you as welll.

then there was that time when you randomly called up your manager one day like, "hey, i’m taking everyone out to eat after the shoot." and jeonghan was standing there, trying not to look too surprised, but inside he was like, who the hell does that? especially in this industry where staff usually gets a handshake and a “thanks for your work” at most. while you’re out here throwing cash around to make sure your team is happy. it’s wild.

he remembers the first time you handed out those holiday bonuses. it wasn’t even from the company’s budget either; it was straight up from your own wallet. like, your money. you didn’t even make a big deal about it, just casually handed out envelopes and said, “merry christmas, you guys.” you should’ve seen their faces—everyone was shook, even him, and he doesn’t get surprised that easily. it was one of those moments where the room just, like, collectively inhaled. there was silence, and then someone—probably one of the stylists—goes, “y/n, this is... you didn’t have to...”

and you? you just shrugged, all casual, like it was no big deal. “nah, i wanted to. thank you for taking care of me, you make part of all of this too.” you pointed to the stage.

jeonghan couldn’t even look at you right for a second because it was, like, damn, okay, she’s for real. that was the moment he decided he wasn’t just gonna treat this gig like all the others. working with you? yeah, it felt different. and not in some sappy, fairytale shit kind of way, but in a “maybe there are still people in this industry who aren’t complete assholes” kind of way.

“so you’re sticking around, hannie?” you asked him one day, catching him off guard while he was fixing up your jacket right before a stage performance.

he smirked, his usual cocky, nonchalant self, but there was something softer underneath it. “guess i don’t have a choice. you make it too easy.”

he was your go-to guy now, the one you trusted with everything, from making sure your hair wasn’t fucked up during press tours to giving you a reality check when you were stressing over the dumbest things. and he liked that. he liked being the one you leaned on when you didn’t wanna bother anyone else.

but it was more than that too. you were just different. the way you treated people, the way you made sure everyone around you felt seen, felt valued? it wasn’t fake. it wasn’t for show. it was you. and jeonghan? well, he wasn’t the kind of guy to stick around just for anyone. but for you? yeah, maybe he’d go the long haul.

jeonghan was always there, like a constant shadow that somehow made everything feel lighter instead of heavier. as your career blew up, he didn’t just keep pace—he matched your energy, your needs, every twist and turn that came with your fame. whether it was press tours, backstage chaos, or those ridiculous interviews where some clueless host would try to push your boundaries, he was always ready.

you’d be in the middle of a tv show, mind racing, and then there’d be a subtle shift. jeonghan standing just offstage, watching with a sharp, gaze of his. and it wasn’t like he had to do much—sometimes just a look was enough to let you know he had your back. like that time they tried to switch up your routine last minute, making changes that didn’t sit right with you. you didn’t even need to speak up, though. before you could say a word, he was already stepping in, throwing that effortless, yet somehow intimidating smile toward the team. “nah, we’re sticking with the original plan. my artist doesn’t do changes without notice.”

��your artist,” you’d hear him say that a lot, like a protective label stamped right over you, like you belonged to him—not in a possessive way, but in a way that made you feel safe. secure.

it wasn’t just about the work either, not even close. jeonghan made the loneliness that came with fame feel less suffocating. that part of fame nobody talks about—the part where you can’t make real friends anymore, where every new person in your life feels temporary, transactional. except him. he was loyal.

when you had those long, grueling days full of photoshoots and interviews and events, and all you wanted was to escape, jeonghan was the one who made sure you still had a piece of normal.

like that one time in paris. you were there for a fashion show, sitting front row with all these industry giants who couldn’t care less about anything but themselves, and jeonghan was right beside you, but afterward, when it was just the two of you, he was the one who dragged you to some random hole-in-the-wall restaurant down the street, far from all the cameras and flashing lights, ordering too much food and laughing at how terrible your french was.

“you know, you’re lucky you’ve got me,” he teased, watching you struggle with the menu. “otherwise, you’d be stuck ordering water and bread for the rest of the trip.”

you elbowed him playfully. “i’m just trying to be cultured, okay?”

“sure, sure,” he snickered, but the grin on his face was soft, like he was glad to be there with you. “leave the culture to me.”

he was there on the quieter days too. you’d be at home, no schedule to follow for once, just free. but that freedom? it felt empty when you didn’t have anyone to share it with. jeonghan got that. he’d show up at your place without even needing an invitation, like he just knew when you needed him there. sometimes he wouldn’t even knock. you’d just hear the door click open and his familiar voice, “you better not be working in there.”

you’d laugh, shouting back from wherever you were in the apartment, “i’m not, calm down.”

next thing you knew, he’d be on the floor of your pristine living room, surrounded by lego pieces because, for some reason, that’s what the two of you did on your days off. it was ridiculous, really, two adults crouched over colorful plastic blocks, but it made you feel like a kid again, like before everything got so complicated.

you’d crouch down next to him, watching his hands move, and without thinking, you’d wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing your cheek against his shoulder. it wasn’t even romaaaantic, more like instinct. jeonghan had this way of making you feel safe, like you didn’t have to be the perfect version of yourself all the time. you could just be you. and hugging him like that, clinging onto him like a koala, it was the only way you knew how to show him just how much he meant to you.

“you’re clingy today,” he murmured, but there was no complaint in his voice, just that familiar teasing.

“you’re soft,” you shot back, squeezing him tighter, feeling the warmth of his body against yours. his cologne was subtle but always the same, something that reminded you of quiet, peaceful moments, like this.

he tilted his head a little, catching your eyes “oh, yeah? not what you said last time.”

you puffed your cheeks out, crossing your arms dramatically, the sulk settling in. “i’m done being clingy with you, jeonghan.”

he grinned like he was waiting for that exact reaction. it’s almost like he lived for these moments—when you’d pout and try to act all tough, but really? he knew exactly where this was headed. you weren’t fooling anyone, especially not him.

“oh yeah?” he tilted his head, gaze dripping with amusement as he leaned in, close enough that his breath brushed your ear. “you sure about that?”

you tried to hold firm, but the way his voice dropped a little lower, teasing. you shifted your weight, crossing your legs under you on the living room floor, avoiding eye contact. “mmhmm. you’ll see.”

jeonghan let out a soft chuckle, leaning back and watching you with a glint in his eyes, like he was just waiting for you to crack. “you’re too cute when you sulk, y’know that?”

your heart fluttered, but you bit down on the inside of your cheek, determined to keep up the act. “whatever.”

he moved closer, a hand sliding around your waist, tugging you just enough so that your body leaned into his. “nah, don’t pout, baby,” he murmured, lips brushing lightly against your jaw. “we both know how this ends.”

and he was right. because, every time you tried to act like you were done with him, like you were going to keep your distance, it only ended one way—with you wet underneath him, a needy mess, begging for more.

like that first time in paris. paris had done something to the both of you. it was supposed to be a normal night, just you and him hanging out after the fashion show. nothing special, just another city on the endless list of places you’d been together. but somehow, that night went different. the second the hotel room door clicked shut behind you, you’d scarcely made it through the door before his hands were on you, grabbing, pulling, claiming.

“thought you were gonna keep your distance,” jeonghan had teased as he pressed you up against the wall, his lips trailing down your neck, making your knees weak.

you were already panting, feeling the warmness of him beaming off his body. “shut up, hannie.”

he chuckled against your skin, his tongue flicking out to taste you, making you gasp. “aww, so cute when you’re needy.”

and fuck, were you needy. by the time he’d pushed you onto the bed, tugging at your clothes, you were already whimpering for him, already soaked.

he’d dragged you to the edge, rough hands all over your body, pulling, squeezing, leaving marks everywhere. your hair had been perfect for the show, all sleek and done up, but that shit didn’t last long. the second he had his fist tangled in it, pulling your head back, it was ruined. thrusting into you from behind, his cock splitting you in half with each brutal thrust. “such a fucking mess.”

you’d tried to keep quiet, biting down on the pillow as your body rocked with every movement, but every time you let out a whiny moan, jeonghan was right there to mock you for it.

“aww, hannie’s being too harsh?” he cooed, as he tries to sound sweet. “hm? poor baby can’t take it?”

you’d only moaned louder, your body trembling as he slapped your ass, the sting making you cry out. he’d leaned down then, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, “use your words, sweetheart. tell hannie how bad you want it.”

you couldn’t even speak, just a mess of broken moans and gasps as he kept slamming into you, the sound of skin against skin echoing through the room. and just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, when you were right on the edge, that’s when he did it. his hand came up to your face, smudging the glitter from the show as he slapped you—not enough to really hurt. he is a careful guy.

“fuck, y/n, look at you. such a pretty little mess,” he groaned, his grip on your hair tightening as he pounded into you from behind, relentless. “you gonna come for me? c’mon, baby, let me hear it.”

you whimpered, nodding, your mind spinning as his cock hit that perfect spot over and over, making you roll your eyes, drool, everything u had right of. but just as you were about to cum, he pulled out, leaving you empty and desperate.

“aww, no no no, not yet,” jeonghan cooed, a wicked grin on his face as he turned you onto your back, pushing your legs open wide. “hannie’s not done with you.”

your heart pounded, your entire body aching for release, but you didn’t dare move. he was in control, and you knew better than to push him.

“what’s the matter, baby?” he leaned down, his lips brushing over yours as he teased you. “too much?”

you shook your head, barely able to get the words out. “n-no… please…”

his smirk widened, that wicked glint in his eyes making you shiver. “please what? gotta tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

you whimpered, your hands gripping the sheets as you looked up at him, desperate. “please… fuck me…”

“good girl.”

[albedobeheading]

cannot beLIEVE my stupid ass would even consider staying in this hell hole to save some money. we simply get it how we live it!! i will pay off my student loans until i die!! idk why i was thinking i need to pay it off as soon as possible!!

[alpaca-clouds]

Why the media CEOs will always learn the wrong lessons

Yesterday a friend and I talked about how the entire (AAA) game industrie looked at BG3 being as popular as it is and going: "Oh, we need to produce 100+ hour games, I guess! Those sell!" Which... obviously is not why it is popular. The game is not popular because it has 100+ hours of gameplay, but because it has engaging characters, that are well-acted and that work as good hooks for the players. Like, let's face it: The reason why I so far have sunken 160 hours into this game is, because I wanna spend time with these characters - and because I wanna give them their happy endings.

But the same has happened too, just a bit earlier this year, right? When Barbie broke the 1 billion and every Hollywood CEO went: "Oh, so the people want movies based on toy franchises! Got it!" To which the internet at large replied: "... How is that the lesson you learned from this?"

Well, let me explain to you, why this is the lesson they learn: It is because the CEOs and the boards of directors at large are not artists or even engaged with the medium they produce. They mostly are economists. And their dry little hearts do not understand stuff more complex than numbers and spread sheets.

That sounds evil, I know, but... It is sadly the truth. When they look at a successful movie/series/game/book/comic, they look at it as a product, not a piece of art or narrative. It is just a product that has very clear metrics.

To them Barbie is not a movie with interesting stylistic choices that stand out from the majority of high budget action blockbusters. It is a toy movie with mildly feminist themes.

Or Oppenheimer is not a movie to them with a strong visual language and good acting direction. No, it is a historical blockbuster.

And this is true for basically every form of media. I mean, books are actually a fairly good example. In my life I do remember the big book fads that happened. When Harry Potter was a success, there was at least a dozen other "magical school" book series being released. When Twilight was a big success there was suddenly an endless number of "teen girl falls in love with bad boy, who is [magical creature]" YA. When the Hunger Games was a success, there were hundreds of "YA dystopia" books. Meanwhile in adult reading, we had the big "next Game of Throne" fad.

Of course, the irony is, that within each of those fads there might have been one or two somewhat successful series - but never even one that came even close to whatever started the fad.

Or with movies, we have seen it, too. When Avengers broke the 1 billion (which up to this point only few movies did) the studios went: "Ooooooh, so we need shared universe film series" - and then all went to try and fail to create their own cinematic universe.

Because the people, who call the shots, are just immensely desinterested in the thing they are selling. They do not really care about the content. All they care about is having a supposedly easy avenue of selling it. Just as they do not care about the consumer. All they care about is that the consumer buys it. Why he buys it... Well, they do not care. They could not care less, in fact.

So, yeah, get ready for a 20 overproduced games with a bloated 100+ hours of empty gameplay, but without the engaging characters. And for like at least 15 more moves based on some toy franchise, that nobody actually cares about.

And then get ready for all the CEOs to do the surprised Pikachu face, when all of that ends up not financially successful.

Really, I read some interviews yesterday from some AAA-studio CEOs and their blatant shock and missing understanding on why BG3 works for so many people.

Because, yeah... capitalism does not appreciate art. Capitalism does not understand art. It only understands spread sheets.

[catfishofoldin99colours]

hhrrrggghhhh it seems every time I have the motivation and energy to draw my tablet decides to start dying on me again :(

So I'm doing the slightly smarter thing and looking at investing in a new one and also a separate utility laptop for work/writing/gaming/anything that Isn't drawing which I've been meaning to do for a w h i l e

[lesamis]

If you're up for it could you explain what is making the Germany government stuff so funny? I can find news articles about it (a coalition is dissolving? There's been tension for a while?) but they're all fairly serious. Thx!

ohhh, sure thing! i'll do my best!

i'll say upfront: this is a pretty serious thing to happen. our chancellor fired our minister of finance, Lindner, which definitively breaks up the governing coalition. germany will likely have snap elections at a moment in which far-right parties are polling extremely well. if news coverage about it seems like people are Worried, that's because, well, they are.

however. the reason it's funny is because our minister of finance was fired. ministers aren't really... ever fired. like, it's not a done thing. i'll fully admit i didn't even know it was an option until yesterday. and our minister of finance wasn't just anyone, he was one of the most mocked and hated figures in politics to germans who vote anywhere left of center.

the coalition that governed until yesterday was made up of the green party, the social democrats, and the neoliberal party (FDP). the FDP is infamous (and i mean, my parents already raised me to hate them for that) for playing kingmaker in coalition governments: they never get all that many votes, but they get just enough that whoever they agree to form a government with will probably succeed. they then tend to force extreme concessions from their coalition partners, because hey, if we walk off, you can't govern at all! so you better play along!

for the past three years, this behaviour has been extremely frustrating for germans who voted for greens or social democrats, because policy from their faction was constantly being blocked by the FDP and often by Lindner personally. the FDP received 11,5% of votes in 2021, but to many of us, it felt as if they were the only party who really had any say in the governing coalition. it made the green and social democratic coalition partners look spineless and passive.

and now, i invite you to imagine how on the day of the US election results, the day the whole world rolled their eyes at the sheer fucking stupidity and pointlessness of it all, at NINE IN THE EVENING, just as germans are getting ready to settle in to bed to dream of nightmare global politics -

the news suddenly breaks that our notoriously invisible chancellor just decided to fire Lindner for that exact behaviour. this chancellor comes out and says, on camera, to the entire sleepy nation, that acting the way Lindner did - blocking necessary policies, refusing to approve budgets unless his party's interests were met - was childish, selfish, irresponsible, and unfit for government, so, whoops, he had to go. shame. coalition over, i guess.

so, politically, that was a long-needed but never-expected moment of triumph for those of us who think the FDP is a clown show made up of human TESLA shares, and it came at a hysterically funny moment.

on a personal level, i can barely explain how uniquely hateable Lindner has always been. he's what would happen if a stock index graph came to life. he hates poor people with a relish; he mocks welfare recipients and would ax minimum wages in a second. he's everyone's business major roommate who shows up in boat shoes fresh off a yacht to discuss NFTs with you. throughout the entire time that he's used his rich boy policy blackmail strategy, he's been smug about it, and he was never taken to task for it, and millions of germans have been longing to throw rotten fruit in his face since 2017. and now we finally get to do it. via memes. on the day of trump's election win.

so that's why it's funny.

[burntblueberrywaffles]

No one:

Me at any given moment: if I don’t wear a kickass outfit to this inconsequential event I will combust and die

[gomtotemeal]

And so a month after they built the fifth Wal-Mart in our county, a little coffee shop opened just a few yards away.  

My coworker Rick said it looked like a giant amoeba just waiting to absorb any surrounding properties.

“The coffee shop?” I asked.

“No, Wal-Mart is the amoeba.”

“Oh.”

When I got back to my desk, I typed ‘amoeba’ into Google and realized that I had incorrectly pictured a centipede.

“To hell with Rick,” I thought. “I don’t need any more friends, anyway. I’m on friend overload.”

At dinner that night, the Wal-Mart came up again when my wife Diane mentioned how ugly it was to see another gigantic shopping center taking up space in our town.

“It looks like a giant amoeba just waiting to absorb that little coffee shop,” I said. “And then the coffee shop is like a centipede.”

“I don’t think amoebas eat centipedes. And besides, that’s the point.”

Diane went on to explain that the coffee shop, though legitimate and functioning by all measures, was really an art piece constructed by a group of private donors in response to the new Wal-Mart.

“The idea is that we’re intentionally not supposed to go to the coffee shop. That way, Wal-Mart customers will be forced to observe the gradual decay of a local business every time they enter the store.”

“Well, I’ve been going there all week,” I said. “I think the coffee is top-notch stuff. Plus, it’s on my way to work.”

“The coffee is supposed to be mediocre,” said Diane. “Keeping within the budget of most struggling businesses. It’s supposed to be virtually undrinkable.”

“Hmm…well I really like it.”

“Well, you can’t keep going or else you’ll ruin the project.”

“This is America,” I said. “And if I want a cup of mediocre, overpriced coffee, by god I will have it!”

Over the next several months, I kept drinking the coffee. Some days I even went twice. The quality of the coffee, I was told, gradually worsened as a result of my unwavering interest, but I never noticed and so I had no choice but to doubt the rumors.

My doubt remained intact even after overhearing a private conversation between the coffee shop’s manager and the cashier. I was standing by a tree and watching a teenager back his car into another car and I guess they didn’t see me.

“I know,” said the cashier. “I’ve tried that, but it’s like he doesn’t have taste buds.”

“Well, he’s single-handedly fucking up this entire thing.”

“So what then, poison? Would he even drink poison?”

“Now, that’s an interesting idea.”

“Stupid teenage drivers,” I thought.

In the end, they poisoned the coffee. I made it a month after that, but my failing eyesight and ravaged kidneys eventually left me bed-ridden.

“Well, they just opened another location,” said Diane. “Business is booming. I hope you’re happy.”

And I wasn’t happy, but I was somehow content and I thought about everything then: Wal-Mart, art projects, even little amoebas crawling through the forest, one-hundred legs working beautifully in tandem.

“Nobody ever wins in these kinds of things,” said Diane.

“But if you had to pick a winner, you’d probably pick me because the coffee shop was on my way to work.”

Diane sighed and left the room. I dozed off and in my dream, they did pick a winner. They picked me and I was led over to a small stage to choose my prize: A brand new recliner or two new kidneys!

“The recliner,” I inquired. “How far back are we talking?”

[itneverendshere]

rewatching desperate house wives right now and would love to see a little something inspired by gabrielle and carlos?? maybe season 2 when he's in jail and she wants a conjugal visit. just thought it would be fun, love your work!!!

I'M THE GIRL YOU DIE FOR- r.c

pairing: canon!rafe x queenb!kook!reader

of course, you had to be here.

no one else was going to fight for rafe—certainly not that tired, old man, with his cheap suit and receding hairline.

god, you hated this place. the lighting was terrible, the walls a sad, dull beige that screamed "i give up," and the leather chairs were probably fake.

honestly, couldn’t these people at least pretend to have some standards? guess that’s what happens when you’re not the one cutting the checks.

now, instead of champagne and designer brunches, you were spending your afternoons in a hellhole like this. you stood near the chain-link fence, your sunglasses shielding you from the glaring sun.

in the distance, the inmates were out in the yard, working out, talking in groups, smoking—whatever it was they did to kill time.

who thought it was a good idea to have meetings out here? the yard was full of dirt, sweat, and who-knows-what, and the chain-link fence looked like something out of a low-budget crime show. you flicked a piece of lint off your skirt, more for effect than necessity.

maxwell finally showed up, his face blank, like he wasn’t impressed by the outfit you’d spent an hour putting together. whatever. you were here for rafe, not him.

“we need to talk,” you said, tightening the hold on your birkin like it weighed a thousand pounds. it was designer. it probably cost more than his car.

maxwell didn’t even flinch. “about?”

cheap suit, cheap attitude. honestly, if you weren’t so desperate, you’d be done with this idiot by now.

“about my fiancé.” you tilted your head, giving him your best ‘don’t play dumb with me’ look. “we need a conjugal visit. and i need you to make it happen.”

“a conjugal visit?” he said it slow, like you were asking for a miracle.

“yes.” you smiled tightly. “you know, those things where people in prison get to have a little privacy? i want you to get us one.” you rolled your eyes. god, this guy was infuriating. “isn’t that part of your job? to get what we need?”

maxwell raised an eyebrow. “a conjugal visit isn’t part of the deal. rafe’s charges are serious. i’m trying to get your fiancé out of jail, you want me to stop everything just so you can have a booty call?”

he was acting like you were asking for something outrageous.

as if it wasn’t completely reasonable for you to want to see rafe. really see him. after months. this was rafe cameron you were talking about. he had power. you had power. how could this crusty lawyer not understand that?

“i’m not asking, maxwell. i’m telling you. make it happen.”

“i said no.”

you scowled at him, “all we need is an hour. you can’t tell me no! you work for me, you will make it happen.”

he gave a fake sigh, the kind people did when they thought you were being dramatic.

“listen,” he sneered, leaning in slightly. “i’m not your servant. you don’t get to snap your fingers and expect things to just happen. newsflash—your boyfriend is in prison. not some hotel.”

oh, this smug asshole. you were about to really let him have it when a low voice interrupted from behind the fence.

“you got a problem, lady?”

you turned, eyes narrowing as you saw two inmates standing near the fence, both of them massive. tattoos snaked up their arms, and they looked rough. you’d seen them with rafe before.

maxwell glanced back at them, trying to act tough, “excuse me, but this is a private conversation.”

“private? you’re out here talking loud enough for the whole yard to hear. we heard what you said.” he tilted his head toward you, eyes narrowing on maxwell. “sounds like you’re disrespecting cameron’s girl.”

maxwell stammered, suddenly not so confident. “i—i’m just trying to explain that a conjugal visit is complicated. there are rules—”

“we don’t care.”

the second maxwell started running his mouth, you could already tell he had no idea who he was dealing with. he was still trying to act like he had the upper hand, like he was some big-shot lawyer who could push people around. you almost pitied him. almost. but honestly, he deserved what was coming.

“you’re not gonna get away with this,” he snapped, all bravado, puffing out his chest like that was going to make him any less pathetic. “you think you can intimidate me? i’ll have you all locked up for life if you so much as lay a finger on me.”

you rolled your eyes behind your sunglasses. what an idiot.

the bigger inmate—tank, you’d heard people call him—reached through the fence with a broomstick.

you hadn’t even noticed it before, but he must’ve grabbed it from somewhere nearby. he jabbed it into maxwell’s shoulder, not hard enough to really hurt him, but enough to make his point. maxwell jumped back like he’d been electrocuted.

“hey! what the—” he shouted, trying to step out of range, but tank just laughed and poked him again, this time aiming lower, jabbing him in the ribs.

“you don’t make the rules here, old man,” tank sneered, poking him once more, this time a little harder. “you’re gonna learn that the hard way if you don’t shut your mouth. apologize!”

maxwell’s face was turning red now, panic setting in as he tried to dodge the broomstick, but the other guy grabbed the handle, keeping it steady while tank prodded him over and over, relentless.

“i swear to god,” maxwell was screaming now, voice cracking. “i’ll have the guards throw you in solitary! you’ll never see daylight again, i’ll make sure you rot in here!”

the inmates just laughed, like his threats were some kind of joke. and honestly, they were. you watched, arms crossed, completely unbothered, as maxwell flailed, trying to keep his balance while other inmates jabbed other broomsticks at him, from every side, like he was nothing more than a punching bag.

“you hear that, boys?” tank said, grinning as he poked maxwell one more time. “he’s gonna get us locked up for life! like we’re not already in here.” the other inmate burst out laughing. a few more guys started drifting closer to the fence, watching with interest. “apologize!”

maxwell’s face was pure panic now. “stop it!” he screamed, backing up so far he was almost falling over. “i’m serious, i’ll call the warden, i’ll—this is all her fault, if she wasn’t such a goddamn horny b—”

you gasped, insulted, ready to read him to filth but the inmates beat you to it.

“do it,” the second guy sneered, his voice low and threatening. “see if we care. you think we don’t know how to make things happen? you’d be gone before you even got your phone call.”

a few of them started yelling, and jeering, like they were ready to jump in, too. maxwell’s eyes darted around, realizing that this was spiraling out of control.

“you idiots!” he screeched, his voice high-pitched and panicky. “you’ll start a riot! they’ll lock all of you down—no more yard, no more visits, nothing! you’re gonna screw yourselves over!”

but they didn’t care. the guys on the yard were getting riled up now, shouts echoing across the open space. some of them were banging on the fence, rattling it hard enough to make it shake.

“apologize to the lady!”

one of the other inmates reached through the fence, grabbing at his sleeve, yanking him forward. maxwell screamed, struggling to pull away, but the guy held on tight, his grip ironclad.

“come on, boys!” someone yelled from the yard, and suddenly it was like the floodgates had opened. more and more inmates rushed toward the fence, shouting, banging on the metal, some of them reaching through, trying to get a piece of the action, “apologize!”

you adjusted your sunglasses and turned to leave, your heels clicking against the pavement. you hope they kill him for you.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚

you were dressed to the nines, as usual, in a designer dress that probably cost more than what the guards made in a month. even in this drab setting, you looked like you belonged on a yacht, not here, in some depressing room meant for criminals and their girlfriends.

you strutted toward him, your lips glossed to perfection, knowing full well that the bratty smile curling your mouth would drive him insane.

it always did.

rafe was already sitting there, arms crossed, looking as exasperated as you’d ever seen him.

his jaw was clenched, and the muscles there twitched. he was not happy.

you smirked. of course, you weren’t expecting a warm welcome, but at least you got to see him.

“hi, baby,” you purred, batting your lashes as if you weren’t here to make his day harder. “missed me?”

he just stared at you for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut like he was trying to find some ounce of patience. then he let out this long, heavy sigh, rubbing his hand down his face before finally looking at you again.

“you—” he started, then stopped, poking his tongue against the inside of his cheek in frustration. “you started a riot because you wanted a conjugal visit?”

you tilted your head innocently, like you didn’t understand why he was so worked up.

“almost,” you corrected, as if that made it any better. “it wasn’t like they actually did anything.” you waved your hand dismissively, the gloss on your lips catching the light as you smiled.

“you—” he stopped, biting the inside of his cheek again, trying to rein it in. he was always like this—prone to temper, to obsession. the need to control everything. especially you. “do you know how close it came to getting out of control? the guards were ready to lock the whole place down. for days. you think that would’ve been good for me, huh?”

you shrugged, not really fazed.

“he was being a dick to me, baby. what was i supposed to do? that lawyer was useless. i wasn’t just going to stand there and let him talk to me like that.”

his eyes dropped to your mouth, unable to resist.

“he was the best lawyer in the fucking county.”

“they clearly need new ones then.”

rafe groaned, trying to keep from losing it completely.

“he almost called me a bitch!”

“were you acting like one?”

“and so what if i was?” you leaned back, crossing your arms, the movement accentuating your designer dress. “he was the one acting like an asshole. he’s lucky i didn’t throw my drink at him. if i’d had one.”

he looked like he was about two seconds away from unleashing his deranged side, rubbing his hand over his face again, like that was going to somehow make all of this disappear.

“you don’t get it, do you? you can’t pull this shit in here, baby. it’s not the fucking outer banks. people don’t just let you get away with whatever you want because you look good and throw money around.”

you rolled your eyes, flipping your hair over your shoulder.

“yeah, well, maybe they should. you don’t see me lowering my standards just because you’re stuck in this dump, do you?” you gestured around the room, your nose wrinkling at the depressing, beige walls. “god, i mean, who chooses these colors? it’s like they want people to lose their minds in here.”

he scoffed, “that’s what you’re worried about? the color of the walls?”

you pouted, “what else was I supposed to do? sit and wait for him to do nothing? ’m not stupid.”

"you're lucky you're even allowed in here after that stunt.”

you gave him a sweet, almost patronizing smile, teeth digging into your lower lip. "aww, baby, are you worried about me?”

"stop," he snapped, "this shit isn’t funny. you think i want to spend the next month in solitary because you couldn't keep your mouth shut?"

you didn’t flinch. in fact, you smiled even wider, enjoying how worked up he was getting.

“don’t be so dramatic. it wasn’t like anything actually happened.”

"you're out there playing power games with people who don't care about you,” he tapped two fingers against his temple, brows slightly raised,“they won’t bow down because you’ve got money or a pretty face."

"maybe not, but they’ll listen if i push hard enough," you said coolly. "and guess what? they did."

he clenched his jaw again, running his hands through his growing hair in frustration. he looked like he was fighting every instinct not to explode.

"you really think you're helping me, don’t you?"

you crossed your legs slowly, adjusting your dress so the fabric draped perfectly. “would you rather have me fuck someone else? y’know… a free man?”

that got a reaction. his eyes flickered with something dangerous, a smirk forming at the corner of his mouth as he leaned in close.

“you wouldn’t.” he whispered, the words laced with venom and amusement at the same time.

your smile turned wicked. “wouldn’t i?”

his fingers twitched on the table, the way they always did when he was seconds away from grabbing you.

“you’re really testing me right now,” he said slowly, his fingers drumming on the metal table between you. "you think ’m stuck in here, so you can play your little games? make me jealous?”

you held his gaze, unbothered, your lips curling into a defiant smile. "’m just reminding you that i have options. ones that aren’t sitting in a prison cell.”

he chuckled darkly, though there was nothing funny about the look in his eyes.

"options, huh?" his voice was edging on borderline strained. "and what makes you think i wouldn't kill any man who even looked at you?"

"you’d have to catch him first, wouldn’t you? and we both know you’re a little… tied up at the moment."

his hand shot out, gripping your lower cheecks with a force that sent you spiriling, remembering how he used to manhandle you anytime he got his hands on you, your faces were almost touching.

his eyes were wild. possession. obsession. the kind of dark love that made you both feel alive.

“you’re mine. no matter where i am, no matter who else you think you can have. you’re mine.”

“then get the stupid conjugal visit,” you hissed through your teeth, “’m horny.”

“’m not asking you. ’m telling you. you don’t have options sweetheart. you never did.”

you felt your pulse quicken.

god, he was insane, but that’s what made it so intoxicating.

he was right. no matter what you said or did, no matter how much you tried to push his buttons, it always came back to one thing: you belonged to him.

“i’ll get you your damn visit,” he continued, his voice dropping lower, “but ’m not doing it because you demanded it. ’m doing it because you need to be reminded of something.” he leaned back, letting go of your face, his fingers printed into your cheeks, keeping his eyes locked on yours, “you’re mine. and i’ll make sure you remember that.”

you rubbed where his grip had been, the throbbing sensation making it clear that he hadn’t lost his touch—he never did.

you grinned as you leaned forward, closing the space between you two again, “i’ll be waiting, baby.”

rafe’s smirk widened, his eyes burning with that possessive glint you knew all too well. there was no escaping him, not that you really wanted to.

“enjoy your time behind bars,” you added, standing up slowly, your movements deliberate, making sure he had a full view of your ass as you walked toward the exit. “maybe i’ll find a way to keep myself busy until you get out.”

he didn’t answer, but you could feel his eyes burning into your back as you left the room.

you knew you were pushing him, playing with fire, but that’s how you both liked it. this was the game you played. you couldn’t wait for him to remind you exactly who you belonged to.

[samkerrworshipper]

rockin’ around the christmas tree

alexia putellas x reader, alexia putellas x putellas!child x reader

fun fact my least favourite holiday is christmas and i don’t really celebrate it at all! but the request i got for this was so cute so i pushed down my inner grinch because i just had to! i’m sorry to any spanish people who don’t celebrate christmas this way lol i tried my best xo

Growing up, christmas had looked a lot different for you then for most kids. 

You didn’t grow up in a house were Christmas was really celebrated, most of the time, your parents worked through the day, and you’d be left home alone with you older brother. 

On the good years, you’d get a present, but most years all the money that could have been christmas presents was put into the football budget, or into buying you a second hand pair of boots so that you didn’t have to play through the winter with holes in your shoes. 

You never really minded, you didn’t grow up in a family where christmas was something your parents could afford, and you’d come to terms with that, it was more important that there was food on the table and money available for football fees then christmas trees or gifts. 

That’s why you struggled with it all. 

Alexia had grown up in a house where Christmas was everything you could have ever wanted, christmas lights, dinner with the family, as many presents as she asked for, a big tree, everything traditional that made the holiday everything it was made up to be. 

Alexia had been the first person to show you what Christmas could look like, your first christmas together had been an.. experience. 

When your girlfriend of six months at the time had found out that your plans for christmas included staying in your apartment and watching whatever crappy christmas movie re-runs that the television was showing she’d been distraught. It had taken a lot of you reasoning with her to explain why you didn’t feel the need to celebrate as extravagantly as other people. You were happy to spend the day in, happy to have a day of piece and solace.

Alexia refused to accept that, so you’d been dragged along to her christmas morning with Alba, then her christmas lunch with her cousins and extended family and finally dinner with Eli and the closer family. 

It had been more activities and festivities in a day then you’d experienced in your whole life of christmas’, and that night when you’d inevitably ended up at Alexia’s house you’d broken down. 

Christmas for you had always just been another day, but your day spent with Alexia had made you feel more loved then you ever had before. 

Christmas was supposed to be a happy day, but that night, all you’d done was sob. You didn’t blame your parents for your missed experiences, they did the best that they could at the time. But you mourned the bit of your childhood that you’d so clearly missed out on. You were overwhelmed beyond any words being able to describe it, you didn’t understand how some families got this, and yet others didn’t. Alexia was so incredibly blessed and she had no idea about it.

Even eight years later, you weren’t the best with christmas. 

Just because you’d become accustomed to what christmas in Alexia’s world looked like didn’t mean that it came easy to you. 

Alexia loved christmas, she looked forward to it every year, if you were to harbor a guess you’d say it was probably her favourite holiday of them all. 

You didn’t hold the same sentiment, you didn’t have years of positive childhood christmas memories, and even after your experiences with the Putellas it didn’t overshadow your deeply innedeed desire to spend christmas under the covers of a bed.

Every christmas was spent similarly for the Putellas’, Alexia waking up at 5am, full of energy, dragging you straight out of bed. Once dragged out of bed, you’d get thrown down onto the living room floor, coffe thrusted in your hand before the annual present unwrapping. 

Alba normally rocked up around 6am, depending on her circumstances, with or without a partner. From then the apartment living room floor turned into a pile of gift wrapping paper as the two Putella’s sisters unwrapped present after present like six year olds. 

You’d never been big on the present thing, you enjoyed watching the two sisters and their animated reactions to every single gift that they received, you preferred to sit back and discreetly open the gifts that were thrown your way. 

After the great present opening, it then transitioned into a big breakfast that made you nauseous and bloated and semi-uncomfortable.

Christmas tradition to Alexia was like a law, there wasn’t any changing it. 

You’d thought that once you’d started to form a family together that maybe things would change a little bit, that maybe Alexia would relax and mellow out, that all of the fuss and festiveness would subside a little bit, but you were so wrong. If anything, it only got more intense.

Lili was four, and it was the first year that she’d started to catch onto what Christmas was, and Alexia was giddy about it. She’d spent the whole months of November and December getting your daughter as excited and understanding of the ‘magnitude’ of what event was coming up. 

Christmas for the putellas’ household started on december first, everything leading up to the big christmas eve dinner on the 24th. 

Lili had already been excited, but spending the night beforehand with all of her older cousins, unwrapping smaller presents and sitting around the table hearing stories from Eli hadn’t been any help. 

You were less than enthuasiatstic about it all, but this year you had an excuse to sit back and relax, and that came in the form of your 2 month old baby, Emi. 

Emi was also a good enough reason to dip out of the celebrations a little bit early, when Emi started to get fussy and hungry for her night time feed you decided it was time to call it and one-handedly dragged your wife and her mini-me out of Eli’s house, with the promise that you’d make sure the two of them got enough sleep so that they were functional by tomorrow. 

The two pouted the whole way home, and it truly added a whole new layer to the whole mini alexia persona that Lili had adopted. 

She was a carbon copy of Alexia, always begging to be dragged along to football training, she had the same little focused scowl that Alexia had when she was focusing, she watched football on the television with the same amount of intensity that Alexia did, all of her mannerisms, all of her values, all of her little details were all Alexia’s. 

You were still holding out bits of hope that Emi would be a little bit more like you, but you were also well aware that if she was anything like her sister then it was a losing battle. 

You tasked Alexia with getting your hyped up older daughter to sleep, whilst you dealt with a fussy Emi who was overtired and refusing to go to sleep. 

“C’mon Emi, you’re fed, you’re changed, you’re tired, you’ve got a comfy bassinet and yet you won’t go to sleep.”

You looked down at your daughter, who had tears running down her face below you in her bassinet, sucking furiously on her dummy like she was trying to prove something to you. 

You weren’t quite sure what was worse, a four year old who was riding on a christmas fueled energy high, or a baby who was so determined to stay awake even though she was absolutely exhausted. 

With Lili, at least you knew that once she’d been bathed and put to bed that a few stories would put her straight to sleep, it was just the process of getting her into bed that was a struggle. Emi however, was a complete mystery. 

Some nights, all she needed was a big feed of milk and she went out like a light, other nights, she would stay awake just for the sake of it. 

It was like she could sense the excitement bouncing off of her mama and sister and decided that she too was destined to make your christmas as long as possible. 

By the time Alexia trailed in, you were just bouncing Emi off to sleep, unsure about how you were going to transfer her from your arms to her bassinet. 

Alexia crawled into your shared bed, watching you with adoration as you gentled paced the rug at the end of your bed, rocking Emi with you. 

“You’re so good with her.”

Emi at least, was an easier baby then Lili had been. Lili had almost been reason enough for you to leave it at one child, the first couple months of her life had been hell, but then the toddler phase came and you and Alexia had both fallen in love with the idea of having a little friend for Lili to run about with. So, the rounds of IVF had come again, and after a miscarriage and failed treatment, the two of you were met with little Emi. 

It was hard juggling a four year old with far too much energy for one child, but the two of you had made it work. 

“I’m just doing my job.”

Motherhood had become a job for you, football wasn’t your passion so much anymore, you were unofficially retired and you were happy that way, you’d won all the accolades you needed, you had a family now that was coming first. 

“You’re the best mother, you couldn’t do much more for them.”

You smiled at Alexia, it made you blush in a way like no other when anyone commented on your parenting, it was good to know you were a good person, but to know that you were a good mother, it was something else. 

You finally managed to push Emi into enough of a lull that when you placed her down in her bassinet she fussed a little bit before finally falling into a proper sleep. 

Once you were sure she was out, you crawled into bed beside Alexia, allowing her to wrap her body around yours. 

“Is there any chance I can convince you to stay in bed any time past 6?”

Alexia snorted, her head finding homage in the corner of your neck. 

“Lili has permission to be out of bed from 5am onwards, so have fun trying to control that.”

You groaned. 

“The presents will still be there, when the sun has risen, why do we need to be out of bed so early?”

Alexia reached over to the bedside lamp that was still on, flicking it off and relaxing into the pillows. 

“Alba will be here at 5.30, technically, you can stay in bed as long as you like.”

You rolled your eyes. 

“And miss out on you acting shocked at the presents you bought for our daughter and for yourself? How could I do that to myself?”

Alexia pinched your side. 

“No, santa brought the presents and I will act shocked when i see what Santa has brought this year, as will you.”

You pinched Alexia back, smirking as she winced. 

“I told you that you didn’t need to buy me anything, Alexia.”

You managed to block Alexia’s attempt at retaliation, smirking to yourself. 

“No, my name is baby, love, honey or sweet, not Alexia. Asking me to not buy you presents is like asking me to not love you, it’s simply not possible. Also, what kind of impression am I setting for lili and emi if they think that it is acceptable to not shower everyone around them in presents on the best day of the year.”

Alexia sounded proud of herself for that statement, like she’d made a real point. 

“You’d be setting an example that love isn’t tangible and you can love someone without pushing gifts down their throats.”

Alexia’s arms wrapped around your stomach, pulling you directly against her. 

“You don’t have to open them if you don’t want to, we can keep them for your birthday, or for mothers day, or for our anniversary. I know it’s a hard day for you, if you don’t want to be apart of it all then that’s okay. We’ll work it out okay, I can try to keep lili at bay for a little bit longer if you watnt a sleep in.”

You shook your head, what Alexia was offering was nice, but it was one day a year, Alexia’s favourite day, and you were willing to make compromises if that was required. 

“You know how much I love you, right?”

Alexia smiled into your neck, a big corny smile. 

“Love me enough to wake up at five am?” You rolled your eyes, flipping down onto your pillow. 

“You’re making breakfast, and you’re putting Lili down for a midday nap when she inevitably needs one, and Alba can deal with her other niece when she gets fussy from her sleep schedule being messed with, I want a day of relaxation, okay?”

Alexia wasn’t kidding about the five am thing, you’d just managed to get Emi back down after her early feed, when your daughter dragged herself through the door of Alexia and yours’ room. 

She looked more exhausted then excited, something that you were happy about. 

“Feliz Navidad, mommy.”

You smiled at your daughter, patting down on the bedding between Alexia and you, making room for your daughter to snuggle up between the two of you. 

It was far to early for your liking, and you were happy to cuddle with Lili if it meant you could have another hour or so of sleep. 

“Feliz Navidad, sweetheart.”

She wormed her way underneath your covers, immediately throwing her arms around your body. 

“Present time?”

You shook your head, bring your daughter close to you. 

“Not yet sweetheart, you mami will wake you up when it’s time, okay?”

It was like at 5am Alexia’s internal body clock went off, both her and your daughter jolting up together like they’d been struck by lightning. 

“Mommy, it’s time to wake up, it’s christmas.”

Lili’s voice was less of a whisper then it had been when she’d crawled into your bed, and you weren’t all that surprised when seconds later Emi was crying, like she knew exactly what was supposed to happen. 

“Sweetheart, go downstairs with your mami, I’ll come down in a minute.”

You were happy to get Lili and Alexia out, leaving you in a semi-tranquil room, besides Emi who was now softly whining beside you. 

You reached over into her bassinet, lifting her up and out, happy enough when she settled in your arms. 

You figured it was a smarter idea to feed her now, then staving it off and having a grumpy baby in a couple of hours. 

So you enjoyed some peace as you nursed Emi, it was a nicer way to wake up and adjust to the reality of what your day was going to look like. 

Once Emi was done you threw on a robe and your slippers, before slipping down the stairs of your house and slowly making your way into the living room. 

You could hear what was going on before you saw it, the sounds of your daughter squealing and Alexia making similar noises. 

It was Lili, Alexia and Alba, all crowded around the christmas tree that Alexia had insisted had to be from the same farm Eli had been getting trees from for years, all three of them with their own piles of wrapping paper at their feet. 

It was a sweet sight, one that struck on your heart strings and made you so incredibly grateful. 

The amount of excitement one Lili’s face made it all worth it, how happy she was. 

“Ah, their is my other favourite niece, come, let me have her, sit down, put your feet up. Emi can help me with the pancakes.”

You accepted a hug from Alba, and happily handed of Emi to her, taking a seat down on your couch, watching as she with practised ease carried your daughter next door to the kitchen. 

“Mama, look at what santa brought me, look at all of the toys.”

You weren’t all that surprised that Lili’s pile had magically grown in stature, probably due to both Alexia and her sister’s insistence that it was child abuse to not overflow a child with presents on Christmas. 

You were even more shocked by the amount of presents that were designated to your newborn baby. 

“Mami, look, a new jersey! With mommy’s name on it, so i can match with you to games!”

The amount of excitement on your daughters face as she turned around to show you the putellas lettering across the back of her blue and red jersey made both you and Alexia weak. You might have been a grinch but there was no denying the amount of pure innocence and joy that was filling your daughter up. She looked impossibly adorabl with her twin braids that Alexia must have done the night before, with her newest addition to her jersey collection layered over the top of her pink flannel set, catching in certain places and the collar not quite aligning. 

“Wow Lil, we get to match now, we’ll have to get a extra one for Emi.”

Alexia smirked at you, alreayd holding up a matching miniature sized version of the same jersey Lili was in, you rolled your eyes, there was one thing your two month old baby didn’t need more of and that was most certainly barca memorabilia. 

“Mami, look, presents for you, and presents for mommy, and presents for auntie Alba.”

You smiled at your daughter, who was pinging with excitement. She pointed frantically between the different piles of parcels, all of which wrapped in seperate colours of papers. Lili’s pile was less wrapped, more strewn across the floor. 

Alexia was responsible for all of the different bits of football gear, whereas you’d stayed more conservative with your choices of clothes, dolls, different zoo animals, small train sets and new books. 

“Wow sweetheart, you really got spoiled, huh?”

You couldn’t help but clutch for your phone, taking a photo of your wife and daughter, who were both looking at eachother with equal amounts of excitement. You were well aware that it was going to be a fight trying to get Lili out of that jersey and into the nice dress you’d picked out for today, but you could compromise with letting her wear it over until photo time came around. 

Alexia looked particularly proud of herself when Lili came running at you, with a handful of gifts, all with your name on them and signed from ‘santa’.

“For you, from mami and santa.”

You smiled at your daughter, who stood in front of you, seemingly waiting for you to open up the gifts. 

You reached for the smallest one first, smiling at a new set of earrings that you knew would quickly become some of your favourites and a matching necklace that had the letters E, L and A on it. 

The jewellery was then followed by a voucher for three months of pilates lessons at your favourite gym, which you were exceptionally grateful for. It wasn’t easy working out after having children, but it was even harder trying to adjust to the new version of your body and Alexia was well aware of how insecure you were feeling, plus pilates was a better transition then pump workouts. 

The next gift was a new set of running shoes, practical but a gift you were more than happy about. Plus, they would be good for your pilates, so you couldn’t really deny the need for them. 

“Alexia, if there is anything alive in this box then I’m going to lose it.”

The fourth parcel was the largest, a big box which contents you were completely uncertain of. Weirdly, Alexia had the tendency to always purchase something for chistmas that the two of you definitely did not need, and that was only going to make your lives harder. Lili had been harping on about wanting a dog, Nala, had unfortunately died when she was too young to remember. She was for whatever reason desperate to fill that hole, and you conceded that once Emi was a little bit older it was definitely a possibility, but not right now.  

You nearly cried when you ripped the packaging open and were met with a brand new set of pans. 

It was a random thing, and definitely not something to cry over, but it was something that you’d been secretly wanting for a while now. 

“Mami, why is mommy crying over new pots and pans.”

Alexia snorted from the other side of the room. 

“Because mommy has been saying naughty words every time she’s been cooking with our other pans and things have been getting stuck to them, so I decided it was time we got some new ones, because it’s not nice to use bad words.”

You rolled your eyes, Alexia was the worst role model for swearing, every time anything small annoyed her. 

“Thank you, it’s a really good gift.”

Alexia smiled at you lopsidedly, pots and pans was her version of the worst christmas gift ever, but seeing your face light up was enough information to know that she’d done good.

“Ah, you’re crying now, and you haven’t even opened my final gift.”

You looked at Alexia sceptically, trying to figure out if this was one of her weird Christmas things. On your first christmas together, she’d brought you a bike, technically she’d bought two bikes, with the intention of the two of you using in the summer. What she hadn’t know, was that you had a slightly irrational fear of riding bikes, and refused to be within 2 metres of the two wheeled beasts. 

Alexia wasn’t a bad gift giver, she was just really good at buying things that she wanted, but forgetting that she person was gifting them to wasn’t necessarily the ideal recipient. 

“Lili, give your mommy the last one for me, yeah?”

Lili smiled at you, big and wide and for a second you worried, that it was going to be something you had to pretend you liked for the sake of not giving Lili a bad example. 

“Mommy said best for last.”

She pulled a present out from nowhere, a small, long one that looked more like a gift card then anything else. 

Good, nohing alive, nothing big or spacious. 

You took a moment to compose yourself before smiling down at your daughter and opening the final one. 

If you’d been crying before, then this gift had you close to sobbing. 

“Mommy says that you deserve time off, just the two of you, so I’m going to stay with abuela and auntie alba for a few days with Emi and you two are going to have some alone time.”

You bit down on your lip, looking up at Alexia, waiting for the catch. 

“Just you and me?”

Alexia nodded, a big smile playing on her lips as she looked at you from across the room. 

“Just you and me, three nights in italy, your favourite.”

You werw willing yourself to not cry, but when Lili jumped into your arms, followed quickly by Alexia you couldn’t help yourself. 

“Feliz Navidad, my love.”

You reached up to press your lips to Alexia’s ignoring the fake vomiting noises that your daughter was making, undoubtedly that she’d learnt from spending to much time with her auntie. 

It was peaceful, it was wonderfully perfect and nothing that you would have imagined for this christmas to look like. 

“Ale, I think the pancakes are burning, or the toast, or the bacon, something’s burning.”

Alexia snorted and you couldn’t help but join her, the two of you breaking into giggles when the smoke alarm started to scream from the kitchen. 

“Feliz Navidad, baby.”