#he probably wants thirty children anyway

[caressthosecheekbones]

met a guy tonight with the most best interior design taste, tall, blond curls, gorgeous eyes and hands. and single. and nothing came of it.

[da-birb-writes-sometimes]

How You Turn My World; Chapter 1

Your day started with chaos, and my dear, it looks like it will continue to be chaos. But only time will tell. The Underground holds many surprises in store for you.

Characters; Grim, Lilia Vanrouge, Deuce Spade, Ace Trappola

Content; Gender-neutral reader, cat shenanigans, building the plot

Content Warnings; Swearing, illusion to marijuana but there is none

Word Count; 4.6 K

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |

Don't put my work into AI; I'll make sure you go to the Underground and don't return. Mwah mwah, kisses~

Ah, the joys of cat parenthood. Days spent cuddling your little bundle of furry joy. That’s what your friends preached. That having a feline roommate was easy and rewarding. That you would benefit by having a cute and fuzzy companion that didn’t demand much of anything. That you would love your little kitty friend like a child. Well, either your friends were liars with questionable senses of humour, or you drew the short stick when it came to choosing a furry companion. And there’s always the possibility of it being both, what with having Ace as a friend and all, but you just hoped it was just your shit luck and not that you had shit friends.

Seriously, though, what higher power did you manage to piss off to deserve the royal hobgoblin of a cat you have? He has shit and pissed in your plants on several occasions. Demolished every single curtain he laid eyes on like he had a personal vendetta against them. Stole your breakfast off your plate right as you were about to take a bite. Puked on your last pair of good white shoes, which still had stains on them because they wouldn’t come out. The cherry on top of it all though was that he insists on yowling and crying in the middle of the damn night for no good reason. Rudely awaking you from the dead of sleep because he demanded attention. With how loud he was, you were surprised that you hadn’t gotten a noise complaint from any of your neighbours… yet. But then again, you could hear the upstairs neighbours’ children screaming bloody murder every so often — what were their names, the Clovers? They were probably so used to it that they threw you a bone, or they didn’t want extra grey hairs from filing a complaint to the landlord. So maybe Grim wasn’t all that bad, but he was still a gremlin child. 

“MROWWWWWW!!!!!” Ah, so tonight was no different then. Grim had decided that you needed to be woken up before even the birds started to sing, needed to be yanked out of the land of dreams. That whatever had caught the attention of his singular brain cell was more important than you recharging so you don’t accidentally say the wrong thing to your boss. Since last time you had slipped up and called him dad, even though no one in their right mind would leave him alone with a rutabaga unattended, and he went on a two-hour long monologue about how much of a kind and generous person he was for you to see him as a father figure. And your salary wasn’t high enough, nor would it ever be, to deal with his eccentric and maddening behaviour.

Maybe, just maybe, if you ignored him and stared at the ceiling long enough he would stop his caterwauling and go to sleep. “MROWWWW!!!!!” Apparently not.

Just one night, ONE NIGHT, of peace and quiet. PLEASE. But you knew that if you didn’t get up soon, he would get up on the bed and put his fluffy butt in your face… like he did last night and the night before that. Sighing, you begrudgingly got out of your cocoon of warm, fluffy, blankets, and hoped you would soon be back in them after dealing with Grim. Hopefully, he was just complaining about his food bowl not being as full as he would like it.

What was the time anyways? Three-thirty in the morning? Ugh, Grim! What did Ace say about it, ah, yes, “Primetime witching hour. Demons and all sorts of creepies” yada yada yada. But you didn’t pay any mind to him, as his annoying smug look would taunt you in your mind even though he was probably sound asleep, blissfully asleep. Something that you wanted to be doing, but woefully you were not.

Stepping out into the main living space, you shot the grey fuzzball the stink eye. “What the hell do you want? You absolute gremlin!” You hissed through gritted teeth, very much annoyed with your brat of a fur child and wanting nothing more than to crawl back to bed, hell, even the loveseat would suffice.  

The offending feline just trilled at you in response, and his tail vibrated, happy that you had come out to see him. How is he so cute but so annoying? He rubbed against your legs before trotting off to one of his hidey holes, which also served as his nest of your stolen socks. He has a weird obsession with socks. But he popped back out, holding something in his mouth. Something small and fuzzy that didn’t look like any of his toys.

“Prowwww,” he dropped it at your feet as if saying that catching whatever it was, was the equivalent to paying his share of rent. Which, it was very much not.

You closed your eyes and pinched your brow. Please be one of his toys. PLEASE be one of his toys. You chanted to yourself in your mind and then opened your eyes. Unfortunately, it was not one of his toys. The small, fuzzy thing in question seemed to be a mouse or some other kind of rodent. It was too late (too early?) for this, and quite frankly you didn’t have the brain power to confirm whatever the hell it was. All you knew was that it looked like a mouse, therefore it was a mouse.

“Is this what you’ve been screaming about this whole time? A mouse,” you sighed. Shaking your head, you went to the bathroom, grabbing some paper towel so you could at least put it outside for something else to eat, or go back to nature in some other way. It was better than just being left to decompose in the communal garbage bin. When you came back out though, it was nowhere to be seen. Now, either Grim decided to eat it like a good kitty cat, or, with your luck, it was still alive and was now running amuck in your apartment.

Grim’s chattering was coming from the kitchen now, and he was up on top of the fridge. It was running amuck in your apartment, how lovely.

“Why, why, are you like this?! Get down from there!” You really didn’t have the energy for this.

Grim just blinked at you before his eyes dilated. He leapt down from his perch on the fridge and was pawing at a corner by the window. Looking down and you couldn’t make out anything on the floor. But you had the oh-so-brilliant idea to look up toward the ceiling. The ‘mouse’ was very much alive, and wasn’t a mouse at all, since it was flying around and banging itself against the corner.

“YOU CAUGHT A FUCKING BAT?!”

He had indeed caught a fucking bat. And bats were normally fine, when they were outside. Not when they’re flying around your apartment at three o’clock in the morning and your cat is losing his goddamn mind trying to catch it. So no, this was very much not fine. 

The bat was about as pleased as you were with this whole situation and kept on flinging itself against the glass of the window, desperately trying to get back outside. How the hell did it get inside in the first place? That could be pondered on upon at a later time, as the first priority was getting it back outside.

“Don’t fly towards my head, bat. I’m just trying to get you back outside. You’re a nice bat, right? Nice bat, nice bat,” you whispered in a non-threatening tone. Could the flying mammal understand what you were saying? Mostly likely not. Hopefully it understood that you, unlike your cat, were trying to help and did not want some fresh bat as your late night snack tonight.

After what felt like forever fuddling with the window to open with a broom in hand, just in case the bat decided to dive bomb your head, you finally got the cursed thing open. 

Grabbing Grim, who was still trying to catch the bat for a second time tonight, you got back to your bedroom and locked the door shut. You hoped that the bat would take the hint that it now had a path to freedom, but only time, and a bit of sleep, would tell. Slumping against the door frame, you sighed and looked over at Grim. He was playing with the door stop, the boing, boingg, boinggg sounds filling in the quiet. Whether it was to amuse himself, or to annoy you was a fifty-fifty bet.

Just as you were about to crawl back under the covers a string of anxiety connected in your head. Shit, did Grim get bit? DAMMIT GRIM! After leaving a somewhat desperate and tired call to your vet’s voicemail, alongside an apology for the late call (early call?), you peeked outside to see if the bat was still flying around. According to Google, the bat should be tested for rabies. You did not trust your no brain cell having fluff ball to know better than to get bit by a possibly rabid bat. But it was gone, so yet again, you were out of luck.

You had enough with today, even though it had just really begun. Pulling up the covers, you sighed in the dark warmth of your blanket cocoon. Grim was busying himself by trying to pounce on your feet, but you ignored him, falling back to sleep and hoping that the rest of your day wouldn’t bring any more shenanigans, migraines, or small flying mammals.

…

…

…

By some miracle, you managed to get Grim to the vet the very same day. Your boss agreed to let you work from home because he is ever so kind and generous… It did help that one of the other higher-ups nearly nagged off his ear upon hearing about the condition of your cat. Even through the phone you could hear it, and could only imagine the spectacle it must have been. Oh well, you had the day off and that is what mattered… but you would be lying if you said that you didn’t cough out a laugh just imagining the scene on the other side of the phone.

You were relieved, Grim on the other hand was not having it. To be fair, you did trick him into his crate with some tuna. He made his disdain known to all though by crying the entire way there. You almost felt bad for him, almost being the key word. 

“You have no one to blame for this but yourself, ya know.” You huffed at him, feeling your shit sleep all too well. “Crying about it won’t help you any.”

Grim let out a pathetic little mew. His little, bright, blue eyes being the only visible part of him, which peered out miserably from the crate. Caving to the kitty manipulation, you poked your finger in as a peace offering. Grim booped his nose to your finger and then proceeded to nibble on it; such a vicious beast.

The vet visit went as well as you could hope it could, as Grim only tried to maim the vet a few times. Hey, it was an improvement from last time, as he had actually peed on them. So yes, trying to maim was vastly better than seeing your figurative child pee on the doctor. You’re pretty sure your vet didn’t go through years of schooling and thousands of dollars into debt just to get peed on by your unruly cat. But Grim was won over by the offering of that cat gogurt, his nose and stomach betraying him. Note to self, stock up on some of that stuff.

The rest of the visit went on without a hitch; he had some blood drawn, got his booster shot for rabies, and even managed to squeeze in a bonus nail trim. There was no evidence of any bite or puncture marks, so Grim by some miracle, did indeed have enough brain cells not to get bit.

“Grim will have to be watched for about forty-five days,” the vet hummed, checking Grim’s chart. “Since you don’t have any other animals it shouldn’t be too difficult to keep him in quarantine. If you see any symptoms be sure to bring him back, just in case.” They gave you a tired smile, and then turned that smile towards their cantankerous patient. “And thank you for deciding not to pee on me this time, Grim. I’m not so bad, see?”

Grim swatted at them, which was his answer to the vet’s question. In Grim’s book, the vet was that bad.

Ignoring his attitude, as you would whenever you came across a screaming toddler and exhausted parent while doing your grocery run, you turned back to your vet. “Thank you, and sorry for Grim. If it makes you feel any better, he’s just as much as a gremlin child at home as well.” At least today went better than last time.

The vet chuckled goodheartedly, “Don’t worry about it, I have more unruly patients than little Grim here.”

Damn, they have seen some shit, haven’t they? … Maybe I should, I don’t know, bring them a gift basket next time I’m in? Or maybe a gift card for a spa day or something??? You should really get them something for the amount of dry cleaning they probably needed to do.

With the visit over, and Grim having a clear bill of health, you shoved him back into his carrier with zero decorum, closing the door as fast as possible before he could escape and try to hide behind the counter like he did last time. I know your tricks, cat. Speaking of bills, the one that was waiting for you at the front desk was enough for you to point an icy glare at your unruly ward.

“You’re lucky that I love you, asshole.” And much like the vet you too got a swat as your thank you. Wonder if this is what the Clovers feel about their children? At least their kids didn’t wake them up in the middle of the night with a bat they caught… You shook your head, moving past those thoughts, and hauled your wailing cat back home.

…

...

By the time you got back to your place, it was just a little past noon. The rest of your day was wide open, and you didn’t really have anything else to do, since taking Grim to the vet was the most urgent of your tasks. Your place could benefit from some tidying, since your boss had recently been demanding more as of late and has been even less useful than he usually was… which was saying something. Seriously, how does he have his position? It was baffling. You swore you could hear his monologue playing on loop in your head whenever you thought of the man, which you tried to keep to a minimum for your own sanity… whatever little of it still remained that is.

Shaking your head to rid the annoying voice, you put on your favourite playlist and got to work. You took your time, putting away the dishes, vacuumed the main room, and even got rid of the dust on the high shelves. But your place was small, so it didn’t take very long for you to tidy up, and deep cleaning could wait for another day when you had enough energy to mentally and physically deal with that undertaking.

You knew that your email probably had a few messages, but it could wait. You weren’t on the clock and therefore didn’t have to check it. Only do the stuff you’re required to do when you get paid, it makes your downtime way more enjoyable.

But, you were bored. The cleaning helped with it, but with the majority of it done and the more intense stuff waiting for another day, you had nothing else to do. And while doom scrolling through social media may fill in the time, it too, was boring, predictable.

… There were two people though who were the exact opposite of boring and predictable. And yes, they did give you your fair share of migraines and questioning your life decisions more than you usually do, they were your best friends. And you were in need of having a movie night with them.

Opening up the group chat, you typed in a message.

| The Responsible One | You guys down for a movie night at my place tonight?

And almost immediately, Ace replied.

| Ginger, derogatory | depends  | ya got fiid?

Deuce responded shortly after.

| Mama’s Boi | Yeah, I’m down | What time? | . . . | And what’s fiid?

|The Responsible One | How does 6 sound?

| Ginger, derogatory | IT WAS A TYOP | *TYPO | I MEANT FOOD | F O O D

| Mama’s Boi | 6 works for me

| The Responsible One | I took a screenshot of that btw love you Ace | Thanks Deuce for actually giving me an answer. | What FIID do you guys want?

| Ginger, derogatory | FUCK YOU | … but yeah 6 works 4 me | any is cool with me

| The Responsible One | Yes yes, fuck you too Ace | Bring your own snacks it is then | See you guys at 6!

That gave you about ninety minutes to hide your good snacks, since the last time, Ace had made himself too comfortable and ate all your fancy treats that you paid way too much for. But like they say, you deserve to ‘treat yoself’ … Ace still owed you for those snacks though. They were fucking expensive, prick.

…

Ninety minutes didn’t take very long, but you managed to hide some of the mess that you hadn’t tackled in your bedroom; it could stand to wait. And the first of your dork friends arrived right on time, count on Deuce trying to be punctual… even if he was panting like he had run a marathon to make it.

“You know,” you sighed, “you didn’t have to sprint here.” You grabbed a glass, filled it with some ice water, and handed it over to your flushed and heaving friend. Please don’t pass out on me. “It’s not a race.”

Deuce took the glass and downed it, still catching his breath. He lifted up the tote bag he was carrying, “Mom made brownies.” A series of coughs escaped him, but he gave you a bashful smile and showed off the multiple Tupperware containers filled to the brim with still warm chocolatey divineness. “Didn’t want them to get cold! Oh! She also made extra for you too!”

He is such a sweetheart… but he’s also pretty dense at times, still a sweetie though. You could have just warmed them back up in the microwave — yes, they weren’t the same as fresh from the oven, but still — you didn’t have the heart to tell Deuce that though. He looked so proud that he made it on time and that the brownies were still warm. What did you do to deserve Deuce as a friend? 

“Also,” he fished around the tote bag, “I brought extra popcorn, since we ate all of yours last time.” And he pulled out an unopened bag of popcorn, the bashful smile turning bright.

Deuce took a step forward, but stopped and backpedalled, taking off his shoes. After he set them neatly by the door, he made his way to the kitchen, and set all of his assorted belongings on the meagre counter space. Once he unloaded the tasty cargo, he made his way over to your loveseat, which had seen better days, and sat down, getting comfortable.

He was looking at you, and there was a little crease in between his eyebrows. Deuce only wore that look when he was worried. “Are you feeling okay? You seem a bit… off.” 

You gave him a tired smile, “Meh. Tired, stressed, not enough money. You know, the usual.” You noticed that his frown was only deepening, so you took a seat next to him and patted his shoulder. “Seriously, Deuce, I’m okay. Plus you got enough on your own plate without worrying about me. I’m going to be fine.”

Deuce pursed his lips, but let out a long sigh, accepting your answer without much fuss. You were capable of dealing with whatever it was, he knew that. You were one of the most capable, and stubborn, people that he knew. You would be fine in the end. “Whose turn is it to pick the movie this time?” He asked, stretching out, trying not to bump into you.

“Hmm, your turn actually,” you hummed. “But–”

Bzz! Bzzz! BZZZ! Someone was buzzing your door, repeatedly pushing at the button. Only one person you know did that. BZZZZZZZZ! And he wouldn’t let up until you answered the door.

Groaning, you got out of your spot and peaked through the peephole. On the other side was none other than Ace, who’s leg was bouncing and he kept on pushing your damn buzzer.

You only opened the door when he decided to lean on it, making him almost fall… almost. Maybe next time would be the day where you would see him eat dirt. “Happy you could join us on this lovely evening,” you drawl, doing a little bow.

Ace rolled his eyes at you, “Seriously? Feeling petty tonight I see.” He too took off his shoes, since the last time he wore them in and tracked in mud from outside, you made him clean it up. He learned his lesson that day, and really didn’t feel like cleaning your floor again.

You smiled at him, “Yeah, yeah I am~” You dropped the smile and went back to your comfy spot beside Deuce. “Also,” you turned around right as Ace was about to plunder your fridge. You glared at him, and he backed off, giving you a sheepish look. “Don’t even think about stealing my food, there’s popcorn and you have food at your home. Unless you want to start paying for my groceries, stick to what’s on the counter.”

Closing the fridge, Ace busied himself by making himself some popcorn, and sneaking a brownie or two in his mouth as he waited for the microwave to finish making his treat. While he was busy in the kitchen, you and Deuce were slowly going through the seemingly endless catalogue of movies. 

“What are we even watching tonight? There’s no special occasion,” Ace mused, sitting on the counter, swinging his legs back and forth. “Action? Horror? Sci-fi? Perhaps,” he paused and made a kissy face, “romance?~”

You stared at him, until he dropped the kissy face. “Never do that again,” you deadpanned, turning back to the screen. “Found something?”

Deuce was hovering over a title, Labyrinth. “Can we watch this? Mom said it was one of her favourites when she was a kid.”

Ace plopped into the armchair, and started chowing down on his fresh popcorn. “Dude, your mom probs just had the hots for, uhhh, Jared? Or whatever his name is.”

You threw a pillow at him, but missed unfortunately, and Ace flipped you off. “First off, Ace, his name is Jareth not Jared. And yeah, we can watch it,” you said, stretching back and getting into prime comfortable blob position. Oh yeah, you weren’t getting back up. 

Once Deuce got up and brought some snacks back in, you started the movie. And damn, these brownies are divine. You really needed to ask Ms. Spade for her recipe. The popcorn was decent, overall meh, but the brownies! THE BROWNIES!!!

You all settled down after being rationed your snacks, and you pressed play. Ace and Deuce both nearly choked on popcorn when Jareth appeared.

“WHY ARE HIS PANTS SO TIGHT?!” They both choked in unison. 

You just rolled your eyes and ignored them, trying to focus on the movie. Other than you nearly having to do the Heimlich manoeuvre on the both of them, the movie continued without incident, until a certain gremlin decided to start crying right as Magic Dance began playing. Seriously Grim, must you choose the most inopportune time to act like Toby does in the movie? But that’s life with a cat.

You paused the movie and looked at Deuce. You were in prime comfortable blob mode, you weren’t getting up. Deuce patted you on the shoulder and went to go see what on Earth Grim was screaming about. Ace just continued to scarf back brownies, thank goodness you hid some away before he got here, or else you wouldn’t have any come tomorrow.

But Deuce came running back out of your room, since that was where Grim was. And you were about to question why he looked like he’d just seen a ghost when something blurred right past him; something small, fuzzy, and flying.

The damn bat is back?! Yeah, you definitely felt like you were cursed.

Now, you could either get up and deal with the bat, since Deuce was just trying to shoo it outside the window with a mop and Ace was screaming much like Grim was, or you could stay warm and comfy and hide under the blanket, pretending that this wasn’t your waking reality…

Option B was really tempting right now, to be honest. Sighing, you got up, massaged your temples to collect yourself, before arming yourself with a broom yet again. Grim has his rabies vaccine, you don’t, so you weren’t taking any chances.

“WHY IS THERE A BAT IN YOUR APARTMENT?!” Ace hissed, ducking as the bat swooped near him.

You opened the window right open, almost threatening to take it off its bearings, “Because the universe hates me, that’s why!” Was it dramatic? Yes. Did it contain a seed of truth? Yes. So that’s what you went with. Was it really an exaggeration though? In the past twenty-four hours it really felt like the universe was sending you a personal ‘Fuck You ♡ ' letter with a kiss mark on the envelope.

You and Deuce tried to work together as a team to coax the bat outside. Come on, the window is wide open. Come on bat, get your fuzzy ass out of my place. 

All that was happening though, was some scene that belonged in a Three Stooges act. With Ace and Grim screeching — yes they counted as one collective unit — Deuce trying his best, but not getting anywhere, and you feeling like you were about to explode from the stress and noise. Even on an impromptu day off, you didn’t get a break, not really.

Getting whisked away by the Goblin King is looking real appealing right now. The bat swooped down close to you, and your instincts kicked in and you swung at it, making it crash land into your coffee table, right into the popcorn. And alongside the popcorn getting spilled everywhere, there was also a poof of green sparkles.

When the green sparkles subsided, there was a strange person with long black hair and red streaks, wearing something that looked straight out of a Ren Faire, and he was standing on your table. The strange man looked straight at you, and you looked back, blinking fast. Did Ms. Spade give us a different kind of brownie? Or is this actually happening?

He snapped his fingers, and you watched as he slowly disappeared into another poof of green sparkles. You were backing up, since hey there was a stranger in your place out of nowhere, but thanks to your shit luck, you tripped over your own feet, tumbling into them. And as the green poof subsided, both you, and the stranger, were nowhere to be seen. Leaving a very confused Ace, Deuce, and Grim to wonder what the hell happened to you.

And honestly? You were thinking the same. Where the FUCK am I?!

...

...

...

...

Tags; @busycloudy, @eynnwwyjth, @identity-theft-101, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @ryker-writes, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

~~~~~~~

Author's Note; And I'm finally showing this to the world, after months of collecting dust in my Google Docs. I have no idea how long this fic will go on for, and the length may be dictated by how much feedback and interaction this gets, so yeah. General rating for this is Teen but might change in the future; I won't tag people if that happens though, cuz, yeah.

If you enjoyed this story, and want to read more of my stuff while I slowly work on more installments to this fic, check out my masterlist! Please ignore any spelling mistakes, I write and die with no beta.

[youunravelme]

to all the girls you've loved before part seven

author's note: WHEW okay i am so sorry it took five days short of a year to finish this. what a wild ride it has been! i just wanted to shout out my dear friend @dani746 who has cheered me on (and roasted me) many times throughout this process. i probably wouldn't have finished this without you. i also want to shout out my other friend @thewintersoldierdisaster who helped me process so much of this part to get it written. you both are the best and i owe you both big time! i also owe all of you who have read and reblogged and replied and liked this series over the last year and a half, you have been so amazing! anyway, here's part seven! (and not to worry, while this is the last part of the series, i will be writing more about mama bear and mat).

pairing: single dad!mat barzal x reader

summary: being a nanny for rich people was probably the worst thing that ever happened to you, until you started working for mat.

warnings: children, rich people, fear of falling in love, anxiety

day seventy-one

you arrived at sydney and matt's in thirty minutes. it probably would've taken less time had traffic not been absolutely abhorrent due to the holiday.

you thanked the driver and paid before grabbing your bag and walking out into the cold air.

in your rush, you forgot a jacket.

you stumbled up the martin's front steps, and dialed sydney's number, pointedly ignoring the five missed calls and eleven texts from mat.

"hello?" thank god sydney sounded awake.

"hey," you exhaled. "can you let me in? i need a place to stay for tonight."

you could hear her mumble something to her husband. and the door was opened thirty seconds later.

matt ushered you in without a word. sydney met you in the foyer with a crease between her brows at the sight of your jacket-less frame and the bag in your hands.

"what happened?" she asked as she led you to the living room and sat you down on a couch. a ringtone sounded and when you turned around matt was answering his phone.

your focus shifted to matt who was looking straight at you. "hey barzy," he said. "yeah, she's here." he nodded, but his eyes were focused on you and sydney. "she got here just a minute ago. no she doesn't have a jacket. syd's with her now." matt hummed into the phone. "we'll drive her to the airport tomorrow, don't worry about it."

you wanted to bury yourself into the pillows. you wanted the couch to swallow you whole.

you didn't hear the end of the conversation matt had on the phone. to be quite frank, you weren't sure you wanted to hear it at all.

matt joined you and syd on the sectional. he threw an arm around the back of the couch and the very sight of it made you sick. you loved them together, you did, that wasn't your problem.

it just reminded you how jason never did anything close to that.

or more importantly (and maybe this was your bigger concern): your shoulders felt cold without mat's arm wrapped around them.

"what happened?" matt asked. and you had to give it to him, you appreciated the "no bullshit" approach he was taking, even if you felt a little attacked.

you opened and closed your mouth repeatedly, but no words came out.

"i'm asking because barzy sounded like he was two seconds away from a full blown panic attack."

you could feel your ears getting hot. your cheeks were getting warm. you wanted to throw up.

"we kissed," you mumbled.

the martins blinked, and you had to give credit where credit was due, sydney didn't shout "i told you so." matt, though, seemed to recognize that the conversation was probably best had between you and sydney because he pressed a kiss to the side of her head and walked out of the room.

sydney nodded and cocked her head to the side. "why did you run?" she asked.

you broke eye contact to look at your hands which were furiously picking at your cuticles. you could see her move closer, leaning forward on her elbows.

sydney said your name quietly. "what happened? did he overstep a boundary? i can get matt to say something to him--"

"i kissed him," you admitted, still not looking up. "i kissed him and freaked out and ran."

“why?”

you exhaled and continued picking at your fingers. "jason said some shit that just got under my skin and now i can't stop thinking about it."

sydney waited for a moment before she spoke again. "what did he say?"

you couldn't see, and it took you a minute to realize that it was because your eyes were blurring with tears. it felt pathetic to sniffle and wallow when it was your fault.

it was all your fault.

"no it's not, honey," sydney said, sounding closer than she did a few minutes ago. you didn't even realize you had said anything. "what did your ex say to you?"

"he said mat would eventually get bored of me. whether that meant just in general or if we slept together."

"you know that's not true, right?"

you halfheartedly shrugged.

sydney was beside you now. she placed her hand on your knee and squeezed. "honey, it's not true. jason treated you like shit, if the one interaction i saw the two of you have was any indication." when you didn't reply, she sighed. "we don't have to talk about it anymore. let's get the guest room set up so you can get some sleep."

it took all of ten minutes for the guest room to be ready. you were curled into the bed moments later.

you found yourself staring at the ceiling wondering how you could've ruined your life so quickly.

you shouldn't have kissed him.

god what were you thinking.

at a professional level, he was your boss, at a technical level, he was a roommate and also—

the best guy you'd ever known.

not that it mattered at the end of the day. you kissed him and ruined any sort of relationship, professional or platonic, you could've had. you might not have been a stem girly, might not be a rocket scientist, but even you could knew that it didn't matter if the stars aligned—

there was no way mat barzal was in love with you.

so you cried yourself to sleep and dreamt of the hazel eyes that had enraptured your heart.

day seventy-two

matt drove you to the airport and thankfully said nothing about your puffy eyes and messy hair. it was safe to say you were restless all night, barely feeling like you slept at all when your alarm went off.

“do you need someone to pick you up when you get back into town?” matt asked as jfk airport approached.

you hesitated. “i hadn't thought that far ahead,” you admitted. “mat was supposed to pick me up, but i don't think he'll want to see me.” not after you ruined everything.

matt nodded. “text syd and let her know when your flight gets into town and we’ll figure something out. if not us, then i’m sure the lees can help.”

when he pulled up to the airport, you gave him a grateful smile and a small thanks before grabbing your personal item and carry on and getting out of his suv. for a brief second, you contemplated jumping back in his car and begging matt to take you back to mat and ella, but you forced your legs to carry you into the airport, telling yourself your mother would be upset if you missed your flight.

so you walked through the airport, through tsa, to your gate, onto the plane, like a zombie. you couldn't stop imagining the way mat’s lips felt against yours, couldn't stop hearing jason’s words in your head like a broken record.

and when your plane took off, you imagined and wondered how mat did it all the time. your stomach dropped as you increased in elevation. your heart lurched when you looked at your lock screen, a photo of the three of you after one of his games.

you should change it, but you loved that little girl and that photo was one time of many recent memories where you felt like you truly belonged.

you locked your phone to keep yourself from thinking about it too much.

your mom met you in your hometown’s airport with a cheesy poster with your baby pictures plastered all over it. she squealed and shoved the poster at your father in favor of nearly tackling you to the ground. you could've cried in her arms, the weight of the last few months catching up to you. for all your parents’ faults, of which there were many, it felt good to be with them again.

your mom pulled back and gave you a watery smile. her hands framed your cheeks as she pulled your head down to place a kiss in your hair. “we've missed you, sweetheart,” she said. “christmas wasn’t christmas without you.”

“missed you too, mom.”

your dad scooped up your carry on and led you to the beat up suv he'd had since you were a sophomore in high school.

the backseat felt familiar like wearing your dad’s old college t-shirt, like fitting into something you'd previously forgotten about. your parents recapped the last few months to you, as they told you about the family drama and what happened at christmas. you were only half listening, doing your best to keep up when you left your heart and mind in new york. you glanced at your parents, married for thirty years, been through their own fair share of struggles. you passively wondered if there was ever this crippling fear in their chests at the idea of loving someone else, or of even falling in love and the enormity of it.

you knew logistically you weren't the first person to fear the act of falling, but you felt so alone in it.

wasn't it crazy? humans had been falling in love for ages and yet you felt completely isolated in this feeling. you weren't the first woman to fall in love with her boss, with a single father, with an athlete. you probably weren't the first to fall in love with a man who was all of the above—

but god it felt like it.

the entire experience felt confining. you knew there were girls dating famous athletes, but they were models, or rich, or childhood sweethearts, or not as mentally fucked up as you currently felt. you were never gonna be sydney or grace or sofia or any of the other nice girls you’d met. you were a nanny, a girl who chose a useless major in a highly competitive city who couldn't handle the stress of a starbucks in new york city at 8am. then you’d gone and kissed mat and consequently felt lighter than you had in the weeks it’d been since you found out your ex cheated on you with the girl you lived with.

but as soon as it ended, you remembered seeing the rangers jersey discarded on your living room floor. you remembered the way your stomach dropped to your toes, how you wanted so badly to pretend it wasn’t happening, but the noises from your roommate’s bedroom were evidence enough.

the writing was in the stars, it was in the fucking clouds, on the fucking wall. every man you'd had been with prior, you'd realized, treated you like garbage. your high school boyfriend never texted or called you back at a reasonable time. your sophomore year of college boyfriend never fully committed, saying he was too busy during football season.

then there was jason who didn’t really show red flags until you started working for mat.

he’ll get bored of you.

“honey? you okay? you went quiet for a second.”

your mom’s voice snapped you out of whatever that mental spiral was.

you gave her your best convincing smile and nodded. “just thinking.”

“how’s that boyfriend of yours?” your dad asked. “jack? joseph?”

“jason?” you gritted out through your painfully tight smile.

your dad snapped and smiled. “that’s his name. how is he?”

“i wouldn’t know, we’re not together anymore,” you mumbled just loud enough for them to hear, but not loud enough for it to echo in your brain.

the car went silent, even as the radio crackled out some random eighties bop from when your parents were in college.

“are you okay?” your mom asked.

“i’m fine.”

day seventy-three

your parents didn't make you celebrate christmas as soon as you got into town. they, thankfully, waited a day before calling your entire extended family over to watch you open presents alone. you smiled and thanked each member for their corresponding present. you dutifully laughed at every joke and sipped at your glass of red wine in hopes that the acidity would distract you from heavier things.

like the texts from sydney asking if you were alright.

or the video from mat of ella playing with the stuffed hippo you got her. you'd watched it ten times just to hear her laugh that she definitely inherited from his childlike cackle. you couldn't help but see the scrunched up face of ella’s that was a carbon copy of her father’s. but even after all that, you still didn't have the heart to reply. what would you even say?

“aw she’s so cute! also sorry i kissed you and ran away?”

you were on your fourteenth watch of the video when he texted again.

mat: let me know when your flight is coming back into town, we’ll pick you up.

you locked your phone and took a sip of your wine. and when your cousin did a cartwheel in the middle of the living room and nearly knocked over the christmas tree? you smiled politely while her parents chided her while you tried to forget the similar stories mat’s parents told you about his childhood.

as the family members cleared out, you helped your parents clean up the common areas. you were in the kitchen with your mom loading the dishwasher when she asked the question you were dreading.

“when are you going back to new york?”

your hands nearly dropped the plate you were holding, but you recovered quickly. “i have to be back before the isles’ next roadie.” a non answer, but you didn't feel like pulling out your calendar and counting the days to see how close you were to facing the mess you left on the island.

“are you staying for new year’s?”

you didn't need to look at your calendar to know you'd already been gone for too long. you'd memorized mat’s schedule at the beginning of the season when you started working for him. his roadie started on new year’s eve.

when you did the dreaded math, you had maximum two days left before you had to head back and take care of ella like nothing had happened.

“i can’t, mat has a road trip that starts on new year’s eve.” you couldn't even look at her. “i’m sorry, mom.”

but she shrugged your apology off and hugged you from behind with a tight grip. “don't apologize, baby. i just wish you'd tell us what's going on.”

“there’s nothing going on—”

your mother said your name, a cross between gentle and chastising. “i was born at night, but not last night. i know you, i know when something’s wrong. if you don't want to talk about it, that’s fine. you're an adult. but don't lie and say you're okay.”

you nodded but didn't offer up any more information.

“when you're ready,” she said, rubbing your back. “when you're ready to talk, i’m here to listen.” your mom pressed a kiss to your cheek, squeezed your shoulders, and walked out of the kitsch, leaving you to gaze out the window over the sink.

day seventy-five

sydney picked you up from the airport at noon with a certain smile on her face that you couldn't place. the backseat was devoid of her kids, so you assumed they were with the nanny or matt was home already with the kids.

she did most of the talking, which you were thankful for. you still felt unsettled back on the island so soon. too soon, if anyone asked. there was nothing more that you wanted than to go back home and hide under the covers in your childhood bedroom, pretending that your biggest fears were monsters in the shapes of shadows from your closet doors.

you were only halfway paying attention. your thoughts were monopolized by the last memories you had before going to your parents’ house. the sound of ella’s laugh when she opened your gift, the warmth in your chest at the anders and grace’s christmas party because you felt so welcomed in by people you'd only known for a few months, the overwhelming unnamable emotion in your stomach at the photo album mat gave you, the capsizing undertow feeling of being seen and known, how mat’s lips felt against your own like every good thing you’d ever done was to make sure you deserved that moment.

you were floating in your own thought bubbles when sydney parked her car in the garage. your eyes didn't wander to the car parked in the street, or the reason why she brought you to her place instead of the one you shared with mat.

you weren’t thinking of any of that until you heard his laugh from the living room.

but your feet were already carrying you there, following sydney diligently like you always did. you stood there in the entrance of the living room, your bag still wheeled behind you.

he'd robbed you of all oxygen.

it was like a spotlight was on him and the nearly eleven month old baby in his arms. a closer look showed that ella was barely holding her eyes open, but she was clinging to her hippo like her life depended on it. 

she looked so small, curled into mat’s chest, but so big compared to when you first met her.

her father cheering loudly when he scored on marty, had her flinching awake. her brown eyes opened wide and by some act of grace (or maybe torture on your part) she made eye contact with you and whined. ella reached her hands out for you.

and who were you to deny her?

you ignored the feeling of his eyes on your face, ignored the way his mouth opened in your peripheral vision. instead, you picked up ella and bounced her as she tucked her head under your chin, ignoring the hazel eyes that were locked on your face.

“you're back,” were the first words mat said to you since you left his apartment that night. “how was your trip?”

you fussed over ella in your arms to keep him from seeing how your hands shook around him and vaguely registered that marty had paused the game. “it was fine,” you said. “how long did your family stay in town?”

“they left yesterday, told me to tell you goodbye.”

you nodded, unable to form any other words to keep the conversation going, so you walked towards the kitchen in hopes sydney would follow. she did, thankfully, and soon enough the sound of chel echoed through the downstairs.

“what was that?” sydney whispered. “you haven't seen him in a few days and that’s all you have to say?”

“what did you want me to say? ‘sorry i kissed you and ran away. hope your holiday was fun?’”

sydney sighed through her nose and placed her hands on her hips. “you’re gonna have to talk about it eventually.”

“and i get that, but i don’t want an audience when we talk about it.”

she nodded and looked to the side. “i just hate to see you two like this.”

“like what?”

“like you're strangers.”

a cleared throat kept you from replying, but it did have you turning your head to see mat leaned against the entryway of the kitchen. “i don’t mean to rush you, but i think we need to get ella home so she's in her crib for at least a portion of her nap.”

quickly you nodded and bid goodbye to sydney and, at the door, you smiled at marty as he opened the front door. mat had his hand on your suitcase and was already carrying it outside to his car like it weighed nothing, which it certainly was not light because you had to sit on it with your parents’ obese cat in your lap while your mom zipped it up.

mat loaded your suitcase, you strapped his child in her car seat. he got in the driver’s seat while you slid into shotgun.

and neither of you said a word.

not until you got about five minutes into the drive. it was almost like mat couldn't handle the quiet anymore. “we don’t have to talk about it after this, but i think we should at least acknowledge what happened, right?”

“we don't have to acknowledge it at all, really. it was unprofessional and crossed too many boundaries. i think it’s best if we just forget about it.”

you were too busy staring out the window, watching the buildings pass to see something like hurt flash in mat’s eyes. “why? why do we have to forget it?”

he will get bored of you.

you shook your head and continued to look out the window.

“no, i think i deserve an answer, a reason why you ran out of our apartment on christmas and didn’t say anything.”

“it’s nothing, mat.”

“it’s something if you won't even look at me.” he sighed and adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. judging by the white color of his knuckles, you guessed he'd only tightened his hold. “i just—” he cut himself off with a sigh and rubbed at his jaw with one hand. “do you still want to look after ella? because if you don't, i’ll need some time to find someone else—”

you flinched into the passenger window. “why would you think i wouldn't want to watch her?”

mat shrugged. “i don't know, you don't want to seem to be around me and considering she's my daughter, i just figured.”

“as long as you're okay with it, i’d like to keep nannying. but if you want me to find another place to stay—”

“don't worry about it, it won't be a problem.”

you nodded but didn't say a word for the rest of the ride home. not to worry though, neither did mat.

when you finally got back to the apartment, you grabbed your suitcase while he maneuvered ella out of her car seat and into his arms. neither of you spoke, not even as you went your separate ways as you got into the apartment. you split in the hallway with him going into ella’s nursery and you into your room.

you at least waited to hear the door shut behind you before your shoulders slumped and tears pricked at your eyes.

he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored of you. he’ll get bored—

i’ll need some time to find someone else. i’ll need some time to find someone else. i’ll need some time to find someone else. i’ll need some time to find someone else. i’ll need some time to find someone—

someone else. someone else. someone else. someone else—

a knock on the door startled you enough that you had to cover your mouth to muffle the noise that escaped your lips.

“you okay?” he asked.

you managed to clear your throat and squeak out a “mhm.” you didn't hear any movement, probably mat wondering if he should press the issue, but after a few moments, you could hear feet padding back down the hallway.

you should’ve unpacked, you should’ve cleaned your room from how you left it. you should’ve done a lot of things. but you took a shower where you cried the entire time. then you got in bed and wished you were in your parents’ house so you could smell the slightly burned sugar cookies your mom made and hear your dad’s disgruntled sighs from the living room when his football team didn't play well.

now you were sitting in a cold city that you used to adore, but it felt like the love had evaporated once you were shown how unlovable you were. jason cheated, mat suggested a replacement, maybe that’s all you were. maybe you were just the ikea couch that moved from apartment to apartment only to be replaced with a crate and barrel sofa when the owner got a house.

there was no telling how long time passed before mat knocked again. “tito’s coming over, did you want anything? he’s offering to pick something up.”

you cleared your throat yet again before speaking. “no, no i’m good.”

“you sure? he's getting pizza from borelli’s.”

your stomach growled but you ignored it. “i’m sure, thanks mat.”

the footsteps retreated, leaving you to your thoughts.

it wasn’t long before ella woke up, forcing you to leave your little cave you called a bedroom. she smiled when she saw you, all her four little baby teeth proudly on display. you pulled her out of her sleep sack and changed her diaper, all while her legs and arms were flapping around happily.

“did you have a good nap, ella bean?” she didn't say any intelligible words, mostly just babble, but you smiled anyway. “i bet, baby girl. do you wanna go see dada and uncle tito?”

her deep brown eyes lit up. her eyes were probably the only thing she got from her mom considering she was a carbon copy of mat.

once her diaper was changed, you buttoned her onesie and pulled her little pants back on before you carried her into the living room.

both mat and tito’s eyes lit up when they saw her. almost immediately, ella started kicking her legs and pushing away from you to go to her dad. instead of bringing her straight to mat, you let her down on the floor and watched as she crawled her way to him.

she’d gotten much faster in your absence, even if it was only for a few days. and to your joy, and maybe a little tweak of sadness, she pulled herself up on mat’s knees where he pulled her into his lap.

“how was practice?” you asked.

mat blinked at you. “we didn’t come from practice...”

“i know,” you replied. “but i didn't get to ask you earlier this morning, so i’m asking now.”

tito’s eyes bounce back and forth from you and mat, almost like he’s unsure of what to do.

mat shrugged. “it was fine, just a lot of bag skating.”

and given their performance a few nights ago, that wasn’t completely surprising.

you nodded and walked into the kitchen when the tension became too much. you gripped the cold counter and took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

i’ll need some time to find someone else. i’ll need some time to find someone else. i’ll need some time—

“you okay?”

your eyes shot open and you spun around to see beau standing in the kitchen with a furrow between his brows.

“y-yeah, why?”

he jerked a thumb over his shoulder where mat was playing with ella on the living room floor, or at least you assumed he was, you couldn't see him from where you were standing. “you're joking, right? you seriously don’t know why? it’s been almost three months and i’ve never heard you talk to each other that way.”

“like what?”

“short.” when you said nothing, he continued. “what’s going on?”

“you mean he didn't tell you?”

“tell me what? that you kissed him and ran away and didn't speak to him while you were gone? yeah, he told me that. didn't tell me anything else though.”

beau wasn’t being cruel, you knew that. he was simply narrating what you had done in a matter of fact manner.

so why did it feel like someone was twisting a knife in your chest?

he sighed and placed his hands on his hips. “look, i’m not judging you, i just hate to see you both acting this way.”

“acting like what?”

“strangers. or maybe worse than strangers.”

 “what could be worse than strangers?”

“estranged lovers.”

a scoff left your lips before you could stop it. “one kiss hardly makes us estranged lovers.”

“no but it does make you two act like you don’t know how to be around each other.”

you refused to look at him, choosing instead to study the grain of the marble countertop. “he’s my boss, tito. i shouldn't have done it.”

he fixed you with a look you couldn't quite interpret. maybe it was similar to one sydney gave winnie after she asked her mom a million questions when none of them made sense and had no obvious connection between them. “you're lying to yourself if you think that’s all you are to him, if that’s all he is to you.”

you shrugged your shoulders. “that’s all we can be.”

“says who?”

no one, no one but you. you and that cruel voice in your head that sounds a lot like your ex. “we just can’t.”

“maybe you just need to be proven wrong. allow him to prove you wrong.”

day seventy-seven

“are you still coming to the game tonight?” mat called from his room while you sat in the living room watching ella play with the stacking cups before she got mad and knocked them over.

to say things had returned to normal would be a lie, but you and mat were good at pretending the elephant wasn’t in the room or even in the apartment building. “i’m not sure,” you replied loud enough for him to hear. “ella’s been kinda cranky all day, hasn’t napped well.”

on cue, ella knocked down the cups and screamed bloody murder. you cringed almost immediately. as soon as the scream was over, you could hear mat’s sigh from his bedroom. his voice sounded closer when he spoke again. “you think she’s getting sick?”

you glanced up and saw mat walking through the doorway. in his suit, he still managed to squat next to you. you quickly averted your eyes instead of staring at his thighs. “i don't know, she doesn’t have a fever, she could be teething or it could just be a sleep regression. all three are possible.”

mat leaned in and ruffled the hair on ella’s head. any attitude or frustration she had evaporated the second she saw her dad. she lifted her arms and babbled until he picked her up. he stood up to his full height and placed the back of his hand against her forehead. “does she feel warm to you?

you stood and replaced his hand with yours. you hummed. “maybe a little, but it’s also a little warm in here.”

mat nodded before he kissed the top of ella’s head. “just let me know if you plan on coming.”

“we’ll be there,” you said before you could stop yourself.

if you were a painter, you'd capture the look of mild surprise on mat’s face because it was equal parts endearing and handsome, you couldn't describe it in just words. “really?”

“yeah,” you said, a small smile on your face. “you’ll need your number one fans there.” and even if you doubted your permanence in his life, there was no doubt in your mind where he ranked in yours. “i mean,” you babbled. “aside from your parents and liana.”

mat chuckled a little. “you definitely rank higher than liana. you don't roast me as much as she does.”

“yeah well, she knows more about hockey than i do.”

his eyes looked into yours and you felt the vulnerability of being seen, of being observed through a microscope.

he’ll get bored of you—

“you should know that doesn't matter to me, it’s the fact that you show up.”

“i’ll keep showing up then,” you smiled. “even if i have no idea what’s going on.”

his smile matched your own. “i’ll come home and explain it to you then.”

you probably could’ve stared at him for eternity, his floppy hair and hazel eyes but ella screamed and wriggled around until mat put her back down on the floor, ending whatever moment you thought you were having.

he glanced at his wrist watch and cursed. “i gotta go or i’ll be late, you have the tickets right?”

“they're on my phone, you sent them yesterday.”

he nodded looking at you then ella, then back at you. “i’ll see you later, then. text me if something changes, i’ll check between periods.”

“you really shouldn't—”

“but i’m going to anyway!” he exclaimed before shutting the door behind him.

ella got a kick out of the uber ride to ubs, even from the comfort of her car seat. the driver was kind enough to play gracie’s corner, which was ella’s new musical obsession. she was giddy for once (because she’d been cranky all day) and didn't even protest when you put the headphones on her head as you entered the noisy arena.

you made your way down to the glass where sydney and grace were waiting with their kids. while it wasn’t your first time at a game with ella, it was your first time this close to the ice. mat had sent you tickets because the wags didn't rent a suite out for the game this time. which, in all honesty, was more than fine with you, experiencing a live game close up sounded more than fun.

the boys came out skating at a pace you couldn't dream of replicating. your eyes were as wide as ella’s as you both looked around, stunned.

“you okay?” sydney chuckled. “you look like a deer in headlights.”

you nodded. “they're just...really fast.”

grace and sydney laughed but nodded along with you.

after the initial lap of skating, matt and anders came over to say hi to their kids and wives. matt had a knowing look in his eye and skated away momentarily. maybe you were a little dumb for being surprised when mat, your mat (but not really) came up to the boards grinning ear to ear. 

ella, by an act of god, recognized him even with his helmet on (not that it covered his whole face, but you'd seen videos of babies freaking out when their dads shave so you weren't sure how she would react). she was flapping her arms and squealing, a nice change from the ear piercing scream she’d been giving you all afternoon.

you couldn't really hear what mat was saying, but you saw the happiness in his eyes, the matching grin he shared with his daughter. you didn't even realize you were staring at him until his eyes met yours. he gave you another award winning smile before grabbing a puck and tossing it over for a girl a few seats away from you.

before you realized the time, mat skated away from you so he could finish warming up. that, of course, didn't stop him from looking over in your general direction to look at ella who was enraptured by the entire experience.

the buzzer sounded shortly after and the game started.

ella made it about seventeen minutes into the first period before deciding she’d had enough. smiling apologetically to the other girls, you said, “sorry, the queen has decided it’s time for bed.”

“how're you getting home?” syd asked.

“uber,” you said.

“text us when you get home,” grace said.

you nodded and grabbed your things and placed ella in her car seat before heading up the numerous stairs to the lobby area of the arena. you sent a text to mat after you ordered your uber but before you walked outside, not wanting to stand out in the cold longer than you had to.

you: 

sorry to miss the game! the queen has said she’s had enough. we’re about to get a taxi.

you didn't expect him to reply soon. you managed to get an uber and head back to your shared apartment when you got a text back. 

mat:

call me when you get home.

before you could stop yourself, you furrowed your brows and replied.

you:

what if you’re in the game?

his reply was immediate.

mat:

call anyway, if i have time during the second intermission, i’ll call back. if not, i’ll see you at home.

as if on instinct, you smiled at your phone. you didn't even realize the uber arrived at your apartment building until the driver threw the car in park.

“thank you,” you said as you climbed out of the car and unhooked ella’s car seat.

the first thing you did upon entering the apartment was put ella and her car seat on the floor. the second was pull out your phone and call mat like he asked you to. it rang twice before your heard his voice on the other line.

“you home?”

you blinked. “you actually picked up?

he made a noise that sounded somewhere between a laugh and a scoff. “you're surprised?”

“you have a game to focus on.”

“this isn’t a lengthy conversation. i just needed to know that you got home alright.”

“well we’re home. you can stop stressing about us and go win a game instead.”

he cackled through the phone right before he said a quick bye and hung up.

you squatted down to ella’s eye level. she was dozing off in the car seat and you were already not looking forward to the tantrum she’d throw as you tried to get her out and into pajamas. a tired baby barzy was a cranky baby barzy.

just as expected, she started crying and rubbing her eyes when you picked her up. she cried even as you changed her diaper and into her pajamas. she cried through chicka chicka boom boom and the little blue truck which she usually loved. she cried up until the moment you put her in her sleep sack and into her crib.

once she was down, you came back into the living room and started cleaning up to the sound of mat’s game on the television. you still weren't an expert on hockey, but you did at least try to understand what was going on. the important thing was that the isles were winning by a goal.

mat didn't get home until closer to midnight. you were still up, watching carpet cleaning videos on your phone. maybe you should've done something more productive, like cracking open one of the fifty books stacked in piles in your room, but after all the screaming from ella, you just wanted to see a dirty carpet turn white.

“you're still up?” he asked, a slight note of surprise in his voice as he walked through the door.

you shrugged. “was waiting for my hockey debrief.” you watched as he sat his hockey back next to the door and ran a hand down his face. “congrats on the win, by the way.”

he crossed the room and plopped down on the sofa next to you and groaned. “i can’t even think about winning when my body hurts.”

“that’s what happens when you can't stay on your feet for more than half a shift.”

he chuckled a little. “not you too, i get enough shit from the guys.”

“if you want it to stop, you should stop falling down.”

abruptly, mat turned to you. “can you even skate?”

“no, but you can. you even get paid to do so. which is why it’s so surprising that you can’t stay on your feet.” he rolled his eyes but there was a smile on his face. “what?” you smiled back. “what is it?”

“nothing,” he said. “i’m just glad we’re cool again.”

day eighty-nine

you felt like a zombie, simply put. ella was eleven months old and shouldn't be going through a sleep regression, yet she was up on and off all night. you knew that it was because she’d learned a new skill, one you couldn't wait to show mat when he got home.

part of you was nervous that he would be upset that he wasn't there for it. last roadie, he came home to ella cruising along furniture and taking steps while she pushed her walker or held your hands.

it took him two days to come to terms with it.

so you sat on the couch and watched ella play in the ball pit playpen with her stuffed hippo. any other time, you might have cleaned up after her, picking up the balls she’d thrown out (because that was yet another thing she’d learned how to do), but you were doing your best to keep your eyes open.

it was the rattling of the doorknob that had you and ella perking up and looking towards the doorway. you could hear fumbling and what you assumed was mat’s hockey bag dropping to the ground.

despite that, it was still a moment or two before you saw mat walk into the living room with a....iced latte in hand?

you furrowed your brows. “what—”

“dada!” ella screamed, flapping her arm that wasn't holding her hippo, doing her best to scramble to her feet without letting go of her stuffie.

mat nearly dropped everything in his hands, including the coffee, which you were still hung up on, because he drank black coffee, not whatever light colored drink that was in his left hand.

“did she—?” he looked to you, hazel eyes wide as the sun. “did she say—”

“dada dada dada dada,” ella kept babbling, her voice only getting happier the closer he came to her.

“hey sweet girl,” he cooed, bending down and scooping her up with one arm. his voice sounded thick, and when you glanced at his face, his eyes looked a little shiny. “i missed you. did you keep mama bear up all night?”

“how did you know—”

“you replied to my text at 2am. you're usually asleep before midnight.” he said it so casually that you almost didn't clock the deeper meaning behind his words. he didn't even look at you, his gaze solely focused on his daughter. “how long has she been saying dada?” he asked.

you smiled. “yesterday, i got it on video. she likes to watch interviews of you sometimes and when i turned an older one on, she said it. i meant to send it to you after it happened, but i figured you'd wanna hear it in person, and if she didn't say it when you walked in, i’d show you the video later.”

“this was much better, thank you,” he said, finally looking you in the eye. then, like a lightbulb went off over his head, he reached his hand out with the iced coffee. “this is for you, figured you'd want coffee after staying up all night.”

you thanked him and hesitantly, took a sip. pleasantly surprised was a phrase you weren't used to using, especially when it came to your coffee order. there were seldom people in your life who could remember how much sugar, cream, and syrup that you liked in your coffee.

jason never remembered, said it was too complicated.

so when you took a sip and it was the exact flavor profile you'd grown accustomed to, you almost started crying.

“did i get it right?” he asked. “i wrote it down in my phone from a month ago just in case. if it’s wrong, ella and i can go grab another one—”

but your smile cut off any rambling left. “it’s perfect. how was your roadie?”

day ninety-two

mat was gracious enough to lend you his car for the day. he didn't have a game, just a morning skate which meant you didn't have to uber to storytime at the library.

it did mean, however, that you had to go pick him up because tito was busy after practice.

you were anxious initially because you had no idea how you'd get into the practice facility, and you weren’t keen on keeping the car running in this economy. thankfully, right as you were walking towards the building, dobson was walking out. he smiled and said a quiet good morning while he held the door for you and ella.

“barzy’s still on the ice,” he said. “should be finishing up any minute.”

“still? is it a punishment?”

dobson shrugged. “i think he's just trying to tighten up his shot.” he cleared his throat. “do you know how to get to the rink?”

you shrugged. “i'm sure i can figure it out.”

which you did, it was pretty self explanatory, though the signage definitely helped. you walked out to the rink and couldn't help the smile on your face when you saw mat zooming around at a ridiculous speed. mesmerized was the only word you could think to use to describe both you and ella. both your heads followed him around the rink.

which meant you had the perfect view of mat absolutely eating it and slamming into the boards behind the goal.

the laugh that burst from your mouth caught you off guard. given how mat flinched, you would say it caught him off guard too.

but you couldn't help it, the sight of him flailing and slamming into the boards had tears forming in your eyes from the sheer force of your laughter.

“oh my god,” you huffed out between laughs. “you're a professional!” you didn't need to say anymore, he knew what you were implying.

mat stuttered out your name. “y—you’re here?”

“i told you i’d pick you up, mat,” you got out through giggles. you walked closer to the ice, stopping at the gate. he hadn't gotten up off the ice, his legs were spread as he sat there. you couldn't place why, but it was still insanely funny to you. as you kept laughing, ella started too, letting out a loud baby cackle that echoed across the ice.

that seemed to kick mat into gear because he stood up and skated towards the two of you, a dopey smile on his face. you moved ella off your hip and in front of your body, holding her back against your chest so she could fully face mat.

“hey ella bean,” he smiled. he tossed his stick over the boards by the bench and reached for her.

“dada dada dada—” as she kept giggling and babbling, you watched as the smile on mat’s face got wider and wider.

you felt your heart lurch into your throat as mat took her out on the ice and started skating. “are you sure that’s safe?” you called out.

mat’s scoff echoed throughout the rink. “i’m a professional.”

“a professional at ending up on your ass.”

while supporting ella with one arm, mat flipped you off with the other hand as he skated around at a moderate pace. something between a scoff and a laugh burst from your mouth like the fireworks in that one katy perry music video.

mat’s head snapped to look at you, an expression on his face that you couldn't place, you'd never seen it before. he skated back to you, with ella still giggling.

“what?” you asked. “why're you looking at me like that?”

he shrugged. “i just like your laugh, is all. you should do it more.”

feeling shy, you looked down at your nails, you really needed to get a manicure done. “haven’t had much to laugh about lately.” the anxiety you had earlier didn't miraculously disappear after your conversation with beau, but up until this moment, you hadn't realized how quiet your mind had been.

a few weeks ago, it was consumed with jason’s words.

now you couldn't stop thinking about mat.

“well, i’ll gladly bust my ass over and over if you keep laughing like that.”

you couldn't help yourself, another laugh forced its way out of your mouth as you looked at him.

day one hundred and one

deep down in your bones, you could feel the exhaustion from yesterday seeping into today. it was a good exhaustion, though. one caused by brunch with grace, sydney, and alexa, a playdate with sofia and romanov’s daughter, deep cleaning the apartment while ella napped, and a nice walk in the park before mat’s game. 

he got home last night after a short roadie. it was a successful trip, with them winning more than they lost. you knew ella would be happy to see him when he woke up, all she talked about was “dada,” though that just might be the excitement of saying her favorite and only word.

for now, though, it was just you and ella sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast. well, you were eating your cereal, she was spreading avocado around on her high chair. still, she was eating her scrambled eggs, so you couldn't really complain.

the two of you had moved into the living room with ella playing with her hippo and building blocks while you watched the newest episode of abbott elementary.

“is this a new one?” you jumped at the sound of mat’s morning voice and ignored the sensation in your stomach when you saw him rubbing at his eyes, bed head and all. 

“huh?”

mat opened his mouth, but at the sound of her father’s voice, ella turned around and screamed before crawling towards him. he didn't even hesitate to scoop her up and keep her cradled between his left arm and his chest.

“i said,” he started. “is this a new episode? i haven't seen this one yet.”

you blinked. “aren't they all new episodes to you?”

“what do you mean?”

did he hit his head or something? “mat, i've never seen you watch a single episode of anything that wasn't hockey highlights or espn...”

he shrugged. “that's because you're not with me on my roadies.”

it was your turn to ask, “what do you mean?”

mat rounded the couch and plopped down next to you, close enough to not be awkwardly apart but far enough that his leg wasn't touching yours, regardless of how much you wanted him to. “i started watching abbott on the road.”

“why would you do that?”

the tips of his ears turned pink. maybe it was warm in the apartment because the idea that you could cause him to blush wasn't something you were able to comprehend at eight in the morning. “you said you loved the show, i wanted to see what the hype was about.”

“you watched it because i told you about it?” it didn't make sense, no one had ever taken your recommendations seriously enough.

he wouldn't make eye contact with you. “beau kept falling asleep and i was tired of watching film and it popped up and you thought it was good so...”

you smiled to ease the anxiety on his face. “how far did you get?”

“i’m all caught up, except for this episode. i caught up on the roadie.”

“well,” you started. “you’re more than welcome to join us. if you want breakfast, i can pause it and wait.” but you remembered he was a professional hockey player, he probably had somewhere to be. “oh wait, when do you have to be at the rink?”

he checked his phone. “it’s not for a few hours because we got in so late. i’m yours in the meantime.”

you quickly turned your attention back to the screen so he couldn't see the flush on your face.

day one hundred and nine

it was a bad brain day. you couldn't explain it. you woke up and your mood soured. ella only marginally improved it, not even her giggles and smiles, as she stood in her crib babbling as you walked towards her, could fully fix your mood.

there was no rhyme or reason for it either.

well—

that wasn’t completely true.

you'd slept like shit last night. no twenty something should still be having nightmares, god you felt embarrassed just saying the word. but your brain didn't care about shoulds, shouldn’ts, and age because you woke up pouring sweat after jason berated you for what felt like hours.

he’ll get bored of you ringing in your head like church bells on sunday.

it was made worse when, to soothe the anxiety creeping in, you stupidly got on instagram. you should've known better, never in the history of the internet has going on social media improved your mood, especially instagram.

but there you were, staring at the instagram stories of the wags of the isles. pilates, jogs, dinner parties, team events you were too shy to go to. then you went to their feeds, wag jackets and happy families and all the things you wouldn't be a part of. they were rich, had a cool job, a happy nuclear family. and you were what? a nanny? you were a scandal waiting to happen.

he’ll get bored of you turned into it’s just a matter of time until mat finds a replacement. then, because your mind absolutely hated you, it would seem, mat’s own words echoed back to you.

and you knew it was out of context, he’d proven it to you over the last few weeks. but all you could hear was:

i’ll need some time to find someone else.

natalie was jason’s someone else.

who would mat’s be?

which was how you ended up crying into the pan of scrambled eggs. “sorry ella bean,” you managed to get out. “these will be mine, i’ll make you some fresh ones.” you plated the eggs and turned to set them aside on the island behind you, but you weren't expecting mat to be standing there in a white t-shirt and sweats.

no one should look that good in pajamas.

he’ll get bored of you.

“you okay?” and before you could even reply, mat was moving closer. “are you crying? what happened?”

you shook your head. “nothing.”

“it’s not nothing if you're crying into breakfast food.” he was right in front of you now. “c'mon, mama, you can talk to me.”

and you weren't sure why that one word did you in. “that’s not my name,” you huffed out.

“huh?” mat stepped closer and placed his large hands on your arms. “what’re you talking about—”

you stepped back into the counter, trying to get out of his hold. “‘mama’ isn’t my name. i’m not ella’s mom. i’m no one’s mom.”

his brows pulled together, his lips turned down into a frown. “i wasn’t asking you to be her mom, if you want me to find—”

“someone else, right?” you said. “you're just waiting to find someone else? everyone always is.” and it just burst from you. like it had been bubbling for twenty something years and this was the release. “i'm never enough for anyone. was i just a placeholder until she got a real mom? i can be a nanny but nothing more, right?”

“whoa, where is this coming from?” mat cut in, immediately breaking up whatever tirade you were going on. “who’s telling you these things?”

you wanted to scream. “you are! you told me you'd find someone else—”

“—if you didn't want to do this anymore! you weren't talking to me, and didn't seem very interested in doing this,” he gestured to himself and ella, “—at all.” he sighed, like he was calming himself. “i thought we were doing better these last few weeks. what changed?”

you shook your head. “just had a bad night.”

“please,” he begged. “please just tell me the truth.” another moment passed and you didn't say a word, you wouldn't even look at him. “was it jason?” you shifted on your feet. “what did he say?”

for a moment, you thought about shrugging it off, changing the subject. but you were so tired of bottling up all the negative thoughts, the buzzing bees in your head, you just let it all out. “he said you'd get bored of me,” you admitted, feeling a little embarrassed that you were so upset about it. “that i was just a nanny and once you realized you couldn't fuck me, you'd fire me and kick me out.”

you looked up just in time to see mat’s jaw clench. he opened his mouth to say something but shut it just as quickly. ella squawked from her seat so you quickly grabbed her out of her high chair and started bouncing her. she was probably hungry, but she seemed content just being in your arms.

“you know that's not true, right?” he said after a moment, his voice tight.

“i know i should believe you but the buzzing bees in my head, they...” you didn't finish.

“they what?”

“i’m not like them, mat. i don't have what they have.”

“who? you're not like who?”

“the other wags. you're gonna want someone who goes to games and has a car and can function in life without overthinking every little thing and...” 

he was shaking his head, his hazel eyes searching yours, like he was looking for the words to say, but couldn't find them. “who told you that's what i want?”

“everyone wants that, mat. i’m just—” ella started leaning and reaching for the eggs you cried into so you moved them out of reach.

after a moment of quiet, of ella just contentedly bouncing in your arms, mat spoke. “i didn't watch abbott elementary just because you said it was good, i watched it because i wanted you to talk to me,” he said, not looking away from your face once. “i wanted us to be us again and if watching a show i wasn’t familiar with meant i could talk to you, i would do it.”

his eyes darted away for a moment, a blush covering his face. but he pushed on anyway. “it turned out to be a really funny show so it wasn't like a burden or anything but i would’ve watched it even if it was garbage because it was something that you liked.”

“mat—”

“no, please let me finish.” he took in a deep breath and looked you dead in the eye. “i would've watched the scott’s tots episode of the office on repeat if you told me that's what you wanted to do.”

mat took a step closer to you, just a foot between you now. “beau said you didn’t believe that i could want you, sydney said it was because of something your piece of shit ex said. so i’ve spent the last few weeks trying to prove to you that i love you, that i love you right now, just like this. even with the million buzzing bees in your head telling you i can’t, i’m telling you i can and i do.”

the buzzing in your head stopped. you couldn't hear anything but—

i love you right now, just like this.

“there is no ‘someone else.’ there’s no one else i could want because you're here.”

“you're not gonna get bored of me?” you asked, kinda hating how weak your voice sounded, but not enough to be embarrassed about it. not when mat was standing so close to you, not when he was saying the things he was saying.

he smiled and shook his head. “i'm not gonna get bored of you.”

“even if i feel like a thursday in october?”

he blinked. “i don't know what that means, but yeah. even if you feel like a thursday in october.”

there was a part of you who wanted to believe him, who wanted to kiss him, but you still hesitated.

you hesitated until you thought about how mat called you every night on his first roadie away from ella, how he admitted that he missed her and kept waking up in the middle of the night expecting her to be down the hall, but how he felt safe knowing that she was with you. you thought about how he waited for you to call when you got into your apartment and immediately helped you move out when you found jason and natalie in bed together. you thought about how his family loved you, gave you christmas presents. you thought about the kiss, you thought about how he called matt when you left the apartment, how he asked if you had a jacket, how you were getting to the airport.

you hesitated until you realized he stole all the oxygen from your lungs. how you knew nothing about hockey prior to him and now it felt like your entire life. you thought about the family skate he'd invited you to in a month and how you dreamt of holding his hand in front of everyone. you thought about how nice it would be to wear his name on your back and know that he was yours at the end of the night.

you hesitated until you knew all the girls from his past, all the boys from yours, had led you both to this moment, standing in his kitchen in your pajamas with his child in your arms while he bared his heart to you.

“you promise just as i am right now?”

he nodded. “i promise, baby, i love you yesterday, right now, and tomorrow.”

you smiled, your heart racing, but your mind was quiet, quiet except for four words. “i love you, mat.”

“oh thank god,” he muttered before placing his hands on your cheeks and pulling your lips to his. he kissed you first, but you chased his lips when he tried to pull away.

it was only the need for air and ella’s screaming that pulled you two away from each other. “are you hungry, baby?” you asked.

“did mama not feed you fast enough?” mat teased, grabbing her from you and tossing her in the air a few times to get her laughing.

“mat,” you groaned.

“it’s okay though,” he said looking you dead in the eye, the widest smile you'd seen on his face. ella looked at you too, both of their faces scrunched up in that way you loved. “we love you anyway.”

mat barzal. nearly everyone in new york was obsessed with him, you knew him by the way he kissed you in the morning, when he got home from practice, before you went to bed. you knew him as the man who scooped his daughter up and tickled her just to hear her laugh. you knew him by the strong arms that would wrap around your waist.

you knew him by the way he loved you.

one hundred and nine days later, you loved him.

[triflesandparsnips]

So I understand that there are Good Omens show fans who have never read Good Omens the book, and that makes me deeply sad because--

Like, there's so much depth to the story being told about humans and humanity and the choice between good and evil -- and how that's actually a false dichotomy whoooops -- WHILE ALSO not really being about Aziraphale and Crowley at all (who are, imo, basically there as embodiments of "Impressive Failures" for the purposes of Theme and also Plot).

BUT IF you want to know why I've shipped them since the book-- here's the moment it happened for wee teenage me:

Wednesday (before the end of the world)

So it's Warlock's birthday party. And there are all these children and security guards and also an angel doing magic tricks while a demon is disguised as a caterer. This bit is basically the same as the show, so hooray.

But as wee me understood the characters up to this point, they were still basically enemies who had been in the field together for way too long and knew each other's moves well enough for the same tempting/thwarting of one another to become kind of boring and repetitive and generally pointless-- particularly once they realized that they could, for instance, just live their (separate!) lives watching humans being weird (Crowley) and seeking various sensory stuff (Aziraphale) while doing the least work necessary to keep their respective bosses off their backs.

The Arrangement was borne not out of hiding a friendship or anything, but instead the realization that sometimes covering for one another would just... cut down on their total overall workload. They were, at best, employees of two different, competitive companies-- though in same kind of department, doing the same kind of work-- who discovered they liked to have lunch at the same deli and that their jobs were sometimes distressingly more similar than either was comfortable with.

SO ANYWAY. BACK TO THAT WEDNESDAY. They're not covering for one another with this whole Antichrist thing-- they're now actively collaborating, and they've acknowledged (mostly) that it's not to cut down on their individual workloads, but rather to preserve their identical-- but not shared (not yet)-- goals of Getting To Continue The Lives On Earth They've Grown To Enjoy.

But like-- still not friends. Not really.

Until Aziraphale fucks up a bit, Warlock accidentally gets hold of a security guard's weapon and starts waving it around, and:

Then someone threw some jelly at Warlock. The boy squeaked, and pulled the trigger of the gun. It was a Magnum .32, CIA issue, gray, mean, heavy, capable of blowing a man away at thirty paces, and leaving nothing more than a red mist, a ghastly mess, and a certain amount of paperwork. Aziraphale blinked. A thin stream of water squirted from the nozzle and soaked Crowley, who had been looking out the window, trying to see if there was a huge black dog in the garden. Aziraphale looked embarrassed. Then a cream cake hit him in the face.

My teenage brain exploded at this moment.

BECAUSE: there is no reason for Aziraphale to do that.

Work-wise: If he got shot, Crowley would get discorporated, but not die-- and anyway, it would happen in such a way that both of them could explain it away easily to their respective sides (and possibly even be commended for it!).

Collaboration-wise: If Crowley had been watching Aziraphale, and if he'd seen Aziraphale have the chance to change the gun but not do it-- then yeah, probably that would've been annoying enough to have warranted some chilly conversations once he came back topside, and therefore, Aziraphale choosing to save Crowley could've been a reasonable, logical choice to keep their working relationship on an even keel until they'd sorted out this Doomsday thing.

But Crowley was looking the other way.

Work-wise, it doesn't make sense-- and secret-collaboration-wise, it doesn't make sense-- and so it is, overall, really weird that Aziraphale saved him.

But his automatic reaction-- in a blink-- is to stop Crowley from getting shot. And he knows it's weird-- he feels embarrassed that his sudden, unthinking reaction is to save his "enemy".

And the final bit is just a couple paragraphs later:

With a gesture, Aziraphale turned the rest of the guns into water pistols as well, and walked out.

SO LOOK: He changed only the pistol about to shoot Crowley. His automatic reaction had nothing to do with saving a party full of humans, many of them children-- nothing to do with Heaven or Hell-- nothing to do with preserving the coworker he needs to stop Armageddon--

It was all to do with saving Crowley. Who may be the enemy, but he's Aziraphale's enemy. And another part of his life on Earth that he's doing all of this just to preserve.

Which may also be, for the first time, the moment he lets himself realize how important Crowley in particular is to him.

...and so anyway, that's how I started shipping these two immortal idiots, and one of many reasons why everyone should read the book.

[blondejellykitty]

₊ ♡ ˚⊹ I'll be there on their side ₊ ♡ ˚⊹

୨୧ multi demigod x goddess reader ୨୧ the goddess of heroes and the protector of demigods was thought to be a mere myth and that was how she preferred it to be, until the time came when she could no longer stay away. a/n: (1.8k words) my first fic posted !! the title is from 'i bet on losing dogs' by mitski. the ending isn't exactly how i wanted but that's okay :)

Mortal children are told myths just the same as demigods. Usually mortal parents will tell them said stories to help themselves parent them like Jack Frost, to remember to put your jacket on or Santa Claus who won't show unless you behave well.

Parents of demigods however tell them for the child's benefit. Many legends aren't told but are taught at camp, once again to protect the demigods. Very few stories are able to be told without alerting any unwanted attention.

The entirety of the fall of Kronos from Zeus' beginning to his victory and the story of his earliest children. All revolving around Zeus in his prime, probably to keep himself ego inflated and unfaded.

Nevertheless this is another story that circulates the young ears of all demigods. The legend of the protector of demigods. Much is lost to time of the story but not even time himself can rip the hope that the lost goddess can give to the young heroes.

Very few things shocked the Olympians anymore, not in this century anyway. Of course Kronos and Gaea rising was one thing and Percy Jackson himself was another but the whispers from their children that after two titan wars sightings of their lost protector was becoming more frequent seemed to truly shock them.

After a few millennia of no contact from the goddess more than a few gods had assumed she simply faded quietly but now it seemed that wasn't the case at all.

It started as a mistaken identity.

With the son of Poseidon, Percy Jackson had thought she was nothing more than a helpful nymph.

Although the poison from the pit scorpion that Luke Castellan gave him was more than enough of a reason for Percy to not fully take in the figure in front of him.

He could faintly make out the outline of her dress but even that went blurry as quickly as he could blink. After struggling to get to the river in the middle of the deserted forest, he called for help, anyone's help.

So she answered.

In a daze of pain he recalls the feeling of being carried much like his mother used to do when he’d trip and hurt himself. He would have felt embarrassed but with a fading pulse he just mumbled best he could thanks to the tender nymph before his vision was lost to darkness.

After he’d recovered, Chiron told him if he'd been found any later he'd have been dead.

Thirty seconds, he thought.

After he had told everyone, everyone meaning Annabeth about Luke, he went back out to said woods to find the nymph who had helped him.

All he found was a few river spirits nearby who told him that no nymph went that close to the border that day. He’d made the river spirits promise to let him know if the mysterious nymph came back, she never did.

But nonetheless Percy remembered, and held thanks to the helpful nymph.

Mistaken identity shifted to a hallucination.

The son of Hermes, Travis Stoll had sworn himself to secrecy under the impression he'd have imagined the whole encounter.

An embarrassing thought he often let himself drift back to on more than one occasion. It had started when he and Connor had been setting up traps in the woods for the next capture the flag game.

They'd been out there all afternoon, they decided to turn back for curfew, best to not tempt the harpies when he'd tripped on a lodged rock in the ground and managed to roll down and crash into a further down tree.

A thick root from the tree he'd fallen against impaled his side making his shirt and the dirt around him to turn a dark red colour. The sight of the root appearing out his side Connor ran towards camp faster than he'd ever seen him run during their pranks yelling for healers and for Chiron.

When he'd think back on it he wasn't sure if it was the quiet of the forest or the numbness of his body but dark spots began to invade his vision and he couldn't help but embrace them without caution.

Until the most beautiful woman came out from behind a nearby tree, rushing towards him in a fuzzy blur. Her elegant hair falling past her face almost making a blanket of warmth and safety around the two of them.

She was the most stunning thing he'd ever seen. Better than the full moon, the sunrise and sunset. Better than the ocean or a flower. He could hear her softly speaking to him but he couldn't make out the words.

He didn't know how long he'd been staring in awe at the woman. Travis was sure he'd be red with embarrassment if all his 'red' wasn't currently bleeding out of him.

He looked over towards where he heard his brother's frantic voice getting closer to him. The sight of him and a few cabin 7 campers not far behind him did well to ease his own worry. He looked back for the woman but she was gone.

He doubted if he'd seen the woman but shook it off as nothing more than pain induced illusion.

Then from a hallucination to a mortal.

The son of Hades, Nico di Angelo should've known better than to assume that anyone who approached him was 100% mortal.

After spending more time in the demigod world he realized that mortals don't ever come over to talk to demigods, or maybe that was just his problem.

Nevertheless even mortals can see some kind of underworld aura around him even if they don't understand what they're seeing.

Which makes it all the more irritating that his younger self didn't realize the woman who helped him was probably not entirely mortal. He could still remember it so clearly, she was after all one of the few at that time that had been kind to him.

He had spent the night searching for an entrance to the underworld, his father had told him in a dream a few nights prior that it was in the area. He also mentioned that it was supposed to be easier to find for children of his.

Well that turned out to be crap.

Nico had spent all day and now late into the night walking around New york city trying to find a specific street corner. He was tired and hungry but most of all angry.

He called off his search once his eyes started to sting. Finding a bus stop bench to rest at. He pulled his knees to rest his head against. Tears stung his eyes more than his fatigue when a smell of food wafted near him.

Lifting his head he saw a woman, dressed in a cozy cardigan, the beige kind a mother would wear. She was carrying a bag, he could faintly make out the logo of the logo of a restaurant he remembered passing on the contains inside.

She never spoke but her eyes almost made him cry, a look of care and worry. one he'd imagined his own mother having from the stories Bianca would tell him.

She leaned over and rested the beg softly on the bench next to him, he could feel the heat from it warming her leg. He asked her who she was and why she'd given him her food but all she did was smile and ruffle his hair like Bianca used to do.

He could feel his tears roll down his neck as he watched her keep walking down the street until she eventually walked out of vision. He was just glad someone was kind to him.

Even if it was just a friendly mortal.

Then from a mortal to a mother.

The son of Hermes, Chris Rodriguez couldn't believe he could see his mother in the middle of the haunted Labyrinth.

It had been Luke who ordered him to go into the traumatizing maze and he'd done it willingly, so eager to help his older brother for the cause of getting revenge, justice, to be noticed.

But as most things in Chris's life it had gone horribly wrong. He couldn't even remember most of the horror he'd seen in there, the human brain forcing him to forget just so that he can move on from it all.

But one of the few things that stuck with him was the memory of his mother. Now, he knew it was completely impossible his mother, who'd died just helping him to get to camp, was in the labyrinth with him but his vivid recollection of those moments left little doubt.

He remembers leaning against one of the ever shifting walls, ready to give up on getting out for good.

When he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, he recalls not even flinching from it because of the calming ease it put him in, he could feel himself slurring his word and frantically almost magically speaking but it wouldn't reach his ears.

He had a light aura around her, and a gentle smile as she carefully lead the way through the twists and turns of the darken maze.

He relives the memory as best he can, he could still hear the faint whispers from her mouth, promising she wouldn't let him go and that it would be alright soon.

In hindsight that was something his mother would never do, his mother cared for him not was anything but emotional.

Part of him likes to think that Thanatos had lost her soul for a moment and she'd come to help when he most needed her.

He was just glad that someone had helped him because he hated the thought of what had happened to him if they hadn't.

Finally from a mother to a mourner.

The son of Jupiter, Jason Grace was the lost goddess' last straw.

Too many had already lost their lives in wars fought in seemingly vain. No matter how she felt for them nor how she longed to help them, rules were rules as the King of Olympus loved to remind everyone.

But when the fate meddled day approached and her sweet kind hero had perished, some rules were to be broken in order to do some good.

The day Jason Grace died was a day every demigod remembers, they felt the sadness draped over both camps and everyone in them.

Even demigods who had never even met the fallen hero were mourning him with such intensity.

The lost goddess knew it was because of her her grief was spilling into their own lives, her sadness swallowing them up with it.

Part of her wanted to stop, knowing it was affecting the little heroes but another darker part wanted it to spur them into action, she wanted it to make them want change.

But look how that had turned out the first time. As much as she wanted to change she settled for a medium, she’d change and she'd do what she was meant to.

Help the young heroes live and thrive, no matter the cost to any other immortal in her way...

[reiderwriter]

hi i love your writing

could you do something with reid loving that reader is pregnant. fluff or smut or both

A/N Hello! Thanks for the request! Dad!Spencer is the cutest thing on the planet so this is some unapologetic fluff. And now I have baby fever.

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy, idiots in love. Loosely based on Haley and Hotch's conversation in 1x1. Very fluffy and probably very cheesy and sentimental too... Sorry, you give me girl dad Spencer and suddenly there isn't an impure thought in my head, I just want to lovingly stare at him like I'm the dead wife in an action movie montage.

My requests are open, check out my masterlist for more 🌸

“Okay, what about Amelia?”

“No, Amelia Dyer, Victorian serial killer. She killed multiple infants over a thirty-year period.”

“Okay, okay, how about, Myra?”

“Myra Hindley, she and her partner Ian Brady abducted and killed five children and teens in the early sixties.”

“God, not that then. There can’t be a psychopathic murderer called Belle, right?”

“You’re making this too easy for me, y’know. Belle Gunness, Hell’s Belle, she’s one of the most prolific female serial killers of all time, even 100 years after her supposed death. It’s fascinating, you know, people think that she actually faked her death - when the doctor who performed the postmortem testified, he noted that the cadaver was about five inches shorter and about fifty pounds lighter than Gunness supposedly was….” You raise a single eyebrow at your wonderful husband, and he immediately shuts up.

“I’m rambling aren’t I?” He smiled down at you as you sat curled up as much as you could in your favorite spot on the couch, the cosiest part of your shared apartment. You smiled back up at him as he leaned down for a kiss and you gladly craned your neck up in response, meeting his lips for a sweet moment.

“Hotch was right you know,” you joked when the two of you parted. “All of the best baby names have been taken by serial killers.”

“Yeah, you’d think with the ratio of female to male serial killers, a girl would be easier to name.” He leans down to kiss you again before falling into a crouch next to you, resting his head on your shoulder and placing his hand on your stomach.

“How big did you say our little girl is now?”

“Y/N, you asked me that half an hour ago. I know pregnancy messes with your brain a bit, but if you’re that bad we’re going to have to get you back to Dr Patel and see if you’re doing okay.” He was joking of course, but you showed him your little pout anyway, knowing that he loved seeing the silly expression on your face.

“Humor me, Doctor.” He strokes your stomach and moves away, but not too far away, taking up right next to you on the couch, and pulling your legs over his lap.

“At five months, she’s roughly 10 inches long with a weight of about 0.5-1 pound. But that ‘How Big is My Baby’ book would say that she’s roughly one banana in length.” You giggled up at him and he grabbed your hand and just held it, content to have you in his arms in any way, big or small.

“I can’t believe it’s been five months already,” you giggle as he presses another kiss to your hand.

“I get it. It doesn’t feel quite real yet to me, either. I thought for so long that fatherhood just wasn’t in my future, but you’re the gift that keeps on giving I guess. I don't know what I did to deserve you.” Even if the words weren’t so sweet, with all of the hormones, you would’ve started crying at anything. Or at least that’s what you’re going to tell him when he sees the small tears threatening to drop into enormous loving sobs.

“Spencer Reid, I am not a gift. I am simply the woman with the correct combination of sense and foolish luck that got to marry you.” He’d done this before, and you were used to his small habit of self-deprecating talk, but after a year of marriage and three years of dating before that, you’d managed to work him down to the occasional comment.

“Don’t try to argue about this, I’m definitely the one benefitting the most from the situation right now,” he joked with you, and you could see the genuine adoration shining from behind his eyes. It was a little spark that not many got to see, a glimpse of true happiness in someone usually so reserved.

“Spencer, you’ve given me foot rubs everyday this week, you’ve read more pregnancy and parenting books than every OBGYN and midwife in the area combined, and you’ve somehow attended more of my clinical check-ups than me, and I’m the one whose pregnant.”

“And you’re growing our child inside of you, which is itself more impressive than anything I could ever do with a book and some modern acts of chivalry.”

“Yeah, tell your boss that. I think the only thing keeping Emily from pulling her hair out over your constant absences is that she thinks she’s competing for the title of godmother. She thinks Penelope and JJ are trying to corrupt me with parenting advice and all those baby clothes Pen keeps bringing over.”

“She’s going to be crushed when she remembers we’re not religious, right?”

“Devastated,” the two of you shared a laugh on the couch, and it quickly devolved into a giggle fit after Spencer leaned over and tickled your side. You jolted away from his touch, but he was on you again, attacking your sides with small caresses, and you were gasping for breath between laughs.

“Spence stop- ahh!” Your squeals stopped as you cried out in shock. It was small but you felt something tap against your stomach. Spencer stopped immediately upon seeing your expression change, and a serious look settled on him as he assessed you for any damage.

“What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? Are you in pain anywhere, is the baby okay?” He shot out the questions rapidly, one after the other, barely leaving space to catch his own breath from the laughter of earlier.

It happened again and you put a hand to your stomach, finally realising what’s going on.

“I think I just felt her kick. Spencer, I think I just felt the baby kick.” You couldn’t help the wide grin that spread across your face, as much as you couldn’t help the tear that dropped from your eye as your hand rested against your belly again, scared to move for fear that the baby wouldn’t communicate with you again.

“What? Now? Can I- Can I try and feel it, too?” His hands hesitated at first but when you enthusiastically nodded and used your other hand to put him close to yours, you could feel his eagerness to feel the small kicks of your daughter as well.

Almost as if she was waiting for him, as soon as his hand was in the right position, your little girl kicked again, almost as if screaming “I’m here mommy and daddy,” for the two of you to hear.

“I think she’s trying to tell us not to have fun without her,” Reid whispered in your ear, kissing your tear streaked cheek, and using his free hand to rub them away from the other side of your face.

“I am so thankful everyday for this gift you have given me. And for the record, the gift isn’t the baby. The gift is the overwhelming happiness you bring to my life, and the beauty you make me see in this world. The fact that you’re going to be the mother of my child gives me the confidence to get up and go to work every morning because I know that there is joy and there is kindness and there are beautiful people in this world, and you are one, and she will be, too.”

His attempts to dry your tears are now completely vanquished as you let your emotions run wild, but you almost laugh when you realise that his eyes are just as glassy as yours, and you both sit there, overwhelmed by the pure, unadulterated joy that a small kick from a child who has yet to be given a name has bought you.

[alexanderwales]

My Very Brief Time as a Korean Rice Farmer

When my wife had been working at her company for ten years, her boss offered her a two week trip anywhere in the world she wanted to go. It was a small company, maybe thirty people, and she'd been one of the first employees, when they were even smaller.

We had wanted to go to Japan, but this was 2022, and they were still closed for COVID when we were making the plans. We decided on South Korea instead, which was my personal preference over Japan anyway (kimchi and k-dramas and the Joseon era!). I used Duolingo to learn Hangul (the script) and not all that much actual Korean.

We went to Changdeok Palace early in the morning on our second day in Seoul, getting there just before it opened. It's a huge place that's right in the city, surrounded, as most things in Seoul are, by other buildings. The Palace is actually a number of buildings built by a number of kings from the Joseon era.

Right when we came in, we were quickly approached by a guy in a blue hanbok. "Hanbok" is a word that means "traditional clothing" or something like that, so it's not actually descriptive, but it was powder blue and looked fancy. He had glasses and a slightly uneasy smile on his face, and approached us from far enough away that I had time to wonder if he was approaching us, and if he was, what he wanted.

"Excuse me, how long were you going to be here today?" he asked.

"We don't have plans," my wife said. "We were going to be here all day, long enough to see everything."

"Would you like to participate in a festival?" he asked.

We looked at each other and told him sure, and then followed him as he talked. (We passed a group of thirty children who had just been admitted with their teacher, and they seemed excited to see foreigners, so they kept yelling "Hello!" to us, which was probably the only English they knew. We waved and said "annyeonghaseyo!" back to them.)

What I thought was going on at this point was that we were getting upsold on something. I figured that we were going to see something special and extra, and then get charged for it. Whatever, we were on vacation, I was fine with that. We hadn't been in Korean long, and I thought "maybe they just station guys like this by the gate to rope people in". It was weird, but we were in a place where we didn't understand all the customs or speak the language, and my policy had been "just roll with it".

I did think it was weird that we were hoofing it across the palaces, and thought it was more weird when we went past a gate and into a place where no one else was apparently allowed. Our guide spoke good English, but when he'd been talking it had always been "the festival" or "the event" and "you'll be there most of the day" and "we'll make sure you have what you need". We were not clear on what was going on.

He mentioned that there would be a rice harvest, which I thought was weird since we were in a historical park in the middle of Seoul.

He told us that he'd give us a tour, because there wouldn't be time later, so he guided us through the Joseon-era gardens and temples. There was no one around, because that part of the grounds wasn't open until later in the day, so we got to see everything and ask whatever questions we wanted to ask, which has got to be the best possible way to experience a place. I was mostly struck by how much work it must have taken to make all this stuff and had lots of "down with the monarchy" feelings. There's a huge pond that's in the shape of the Korean peninsula, and god damn must that have taken a ton of time without a backhoe.

We were eventually taken a small place where they were setting things up, with a bunch of people milling about, and it was only then that we saw the rice: a small plot of it, no more than twenty feet to a side.

The rice was, in historical times, planted there so the king would have some understanding of what the crop yields would be like, since rice was the lifeblood of the country. It was harvested and inspected and whatnot to get some sense of the agriculture of the country, because anything that happened to the rice in these conditions was probably happening to rice all over the kingdom.

This rice harvest wasn't something that they just do with tourists every now and then, it only happens on this single day in the entire year, and me and my wife were two of the five people who would be doing it. The other three were all Korean government people of some kind.

They took us to a building and got us changed in our hanbok. "Hanbok" means "traditional clothes", and usually is associated with a nice and historical outfit, like someone in England dressing up in Regency era clothing. Here, it just meant "traditional farmer clothes".

Problem: I am six feet tall, which is quite tall for a Korean.

This woman was trying to dress me, and both because I was a bit overweight and quite tall, it was just not going well. My wife thought it was hilarious.

The other part of the kit was some orange rubber boots, which were not traditional but did prevent us from getting covered in mud. This is the most that I have ever looked like a goose.

When they were ready for us, we were handed tools to cut the rice. The ideal motion was to grab it around the base, move the hand up, then cut at the bottom. I am pretty sure that the thing we were handed was a sickle.

We got warned five or six times that they were extremely sharp, meant for slicing through the stalks of grain, and because there was a bit of a language barrier, the guy handing them to us kept nodding as he tried to make sure we understood that there was no small amount of danger.

My wife, five seconds after being handed her sickle, lunged at me with a "Hiya!" like she meant to stab me in the stomach. I jumped, five or six Koreans around us jumped, and my wife laughed and laughed. (My wife is great.)

When the photographers got there, we went into the muck and began harvesting. There were what felt like fifty photographers taking pictures of us while very loud drums played a traditional song and some people danced around us. We preened in front of the cameras, trying to take direction as best we could, and tossing the harvested rice off to the side so that two men with giant hammers could pound on it and make it into something like mochi (I think called tteok, but there was a lot of Korean happening).

After the photographers had gone, we had a little break, then were made to harvest rice in front of a group of Korean people, most of whom were, I think, either government functionaries or personalities or something. The drums were going again, I was sweating in my hanbok, and left hoping that my glasses wouldn't fall into the mud.

A third rice harvest was done for tourists, and the drums started up. I think this was the weirdest one for me, because I was a tourist on display for other tourists.

After the last of the rice was harvested, we had an interview with the largest English-speaking TV station in South Korea. All the questions were casual chit-chat questions, and I figured that only five or ten seconds would make it on air for a puff piece (which is what happened, with my wife hogging all the screen time).

When we had finally changed back into our normal clothes, we were given gifts by way of thanks, two wooden cups that we now use in the bathroom to hold toothbrushes, along with a pound of rice each (though not the stuff we'd harvested, which was made into tteok and we did get a chance to eat).

Our guide was super nice to us, answered some questions about what it's like to live in South Korea, and talked to us about places for us to visit. Over the next few days, we were able to find a few puff pieces on the internet, all in Korean.

I'm pretty sure they do this every year, always with token foreigners, and I hope some day I'm telling this story to someone and they say "oh yeah, that happened to me too".

[kingkatsuki]

What I’m thinkin’ about today: Mitsuki being wayyyyy too involved in y’all’s sex life (or trying to be, anyway). She’s waited a long ass time for Katsuki to find you, and she wants grandkids like nobody’s business!

I’m thinking like, getting you gift cards to Victoria’s Secret so you can get lingerie, suggesting different positions (that supposedly increase the chances of conception…). Suggesting foods to eat (that supposedly make you more fertile, but she’ll talk up their other nutritional points of course). Heaven forbid you act even a little sick/off around her, you can see that glint in her eye. Sure, she’ll go get you some medicine from the store! Along with several pregnancy tests. Get well soon!

She doesn’t mean any of this maliciously by any means…she’s just…Mitsuki. And she’s overexcited. Drives Katsuki up the fucking wall

Warnings: 18+, lingerie and Mitsuki way too interested in your sex life.

You should’ve known the first time that you met Mitsuki that this would happen, bringing you into a warm hug as she welcomed you into the family. Immediately breaking off into a speech about how excited she was to have grandchildren and that Bakugou was lucky to have you, that she thought he’d never settle down and find someone to put up with him. Slapping his chest and telling him not to fuck it up as he grumbled about having absolutely no intention on doing so. This was six months into your relationship.

Because of that, Bakugou tried his best to keep you apart as much as possible. Although neither of you were immune to the texts and calls bluntly asking whether you’d fornicated today, her eyes lighting up with glee whenever Bakugou would tell her that you’re not feeling well. Disappointed to find out that it was just the common cold and not morning sickness making her dreams come true.

You’d admit the designs she’d created with Masaru for children’s clothes were adorable, and once you and Bakugou were ready to conceive you’d have a wardrobe stocked full of gorgeous clothes for your newborn. But until then, the conversations were becoming a little indecent.

Christmas Day this year was no different, luring you into a false sense of security with only one question about pregnancy the entire festive day. Sitting down in the living room to exchange presents after Christmas dinner you gave Mitsuki a warm smile as she handed you her gift.

It was definitely not what you’d been expecting, lifting up the lacy forest green lingerie out of the black tissue paper that it was hiding in. Noticing the tag from a high end lingerie brand, wondering whether it was the bottom or the top you were holding between your fingers as you felt Bakugou stiffen beside you too.

“That’s Katsuki’s favourite colour.”

You’d think most daughter-in-laws would be mortified to be gifted something like this from their mother-in-law, especially with your boyfriend and father-in-law in the same room. But you almost shook your head at the hilarity of it, wondering how she’d managed to order your exact size too. Poor Masaru looked apologetic as he gave you a nervous smile from his position beside his wife, obviously wading in the calm before the storm.

“Why the fuck would you get that for her, woman?” Bakugou growls, snatching the lace that would probably be considered string out of your hands to shove it back into the box with pink cheeks. How was that even supposed to fit your—

“You’ll like it, you ungrateful brat. I’m doing this for you—” She sneered back, already feeling the tension in the room rising as Masaru tried to invite you for some warm eggnog.

Your mother-in-law had been ecstatic the moment that Bakugou had brought you home for the first time, with her son reaching his thirties she’d seemingly begun to give up hope that he’d bring home anyone.

“I’m surprised he could find anyone to put up with him, especially someone as pretty as you!” Mitsuki would repeat constantly, Bakugou grunting in the background as she looked at you with pure fondness, “I always wanted a daughter.”

But it wasn’t long before the true motives were revealed, the years of arduous waiting for Mitsuki. Telling you that she wanted to be a young Grandmother, a cool Grandma (something that would make Bakugou scoff as she hit him upside the head like clockwork), and she didn’t even mind how many.

And you’d admit it was a little peculiar, receiving links to Cosmopolitan talking about the best sex positions for successfully getting pregnant, or articles about food to eat to help with fertility. The first time you showed Bakugou it had resulted in a thirty minute screaming match on the phone with his mother where he threatened to have Grandkids just so he could make sure she’d never see them, but you knew that was a bluff.

“I fuckin’ knew there was a reason you were plying her with pomegranate juice like some creep, you old hag.”

It’s not that you didn’t want to have kids with Bakugou, you’d both discussed it a lot. And the allusion to him filling you up to make you round and plump carrying his child was included with some of the filth that would spew from his mouth whenever he’d press your legs up to your chest as he plowed into you at night. But you were both just waiting for the right time.

But unfortunately for you, Mitsuki thought that time was now.

“Midoriya’s son is almost two,” She lamented, “Inko just sent me pictures of his first swimming lesson.”

But the final straw was when Bakugou found the ovulation app on his mothers phone, finally explaining the weeks of phone calls asking about whether you’d had some alone time together yet. All the dots slowly adding together—

It felt a shame to waste the pretty lingerie though, the intrigue of how the straps would fit against your curves had you pondering as you got home that evening with your boyfriend. Slipping away into the bathroom to try it on as the silk hugged your curves, wide eyes looking at your reflection in the mirror as the thin piece of string that was supposedly the crotch dug into your mound, sitting between your labia as it involuntarily spread you apart. How would anyone find this comfortable?

“Are you comin’ to bed?” Bakugou stepped into the en suite without knocking, his tired eyes immediately widening at the sight of you, “Dad just text to apologise for— Shit.”

“It’s a bit much, isn’t it?” You turned to face him, your hands squeezing your tits as you tried to get the sheer lace to sit right, “You can see my nipples through it-”

You didn’t get a second to finish as Bakugou had your ass pressed against the bathroom counter, warm palms curving beneath your thighs to sit you on top of it as he bullied his way between your legs. Wrestling with his belt as he tugged his pants down just enough to free his aching cock, the rage inside him for his mother buying you such a lewd present all but forgotten the moment he witnessed the soft fabric against your skin.

“Katsuki, fuck—“ You gasped, feeling him tug the string to the side just enough for him to sink inside your warm, wet cunt.

If you both hadn’t been so distracted you would’ve noticed the two pregnancy tests sitting at the bottom of the lingerie box, everything about your gift planned to the t.

And for Mitsuki’s luck, Christmas Day fell on your ovulation schedule perfectly.

[frankiebirds]

reid's reaction when emily says "we missed your birthday" is so fucking. agh.

he nods and smiles and then very quickly looks down.

TIME TO READ INTO IT WHOOOOO:

when they missed his birthday, he was like. "eh. it's fine. i'm thirty now, i don't need my friends to throw me a party. i'm an adult, i'm not upset about it."

especially because i'm sure reid didn't have a lot of awesome birthdays pre-series. i always got the impression he was mostly friendless until he joined the team, with ethan as the only exception (and in my heart they met and became friends in college, despite canon suggesting it was as young children). diana loved him and i'm sure she would have been lovely on his birthday, but i doubt she always remembered it (in the flashback to william leaving in 2x15 she doesn't know what day it is—i think it's very plausible that could happen on at least some of his birthdays) and if she did, she might not have been in the right headspace to celebrate it like she wanted.

(and even if she remembered and she was doing well, i really struggle to see any version of diana and spencer post-william leaving who wouldn't have had serious financial issues)

and then after spencer moves diana into assisted living (possibly on his birthday or at least close to it) he's mostly alone until he meets gideon. (again, except for ethan)

so, in summary: pre-bau spencer's birthdays were probably infrequently celebrated, and when they were celebrated, they were probably a lot less of a Big Deal than other peoples' were, for various reasons. so spencer spends about a decade growing used to not celebrating his birthday, then joins the bau and spends about a decade getting used to celebrating it, and then...they forget. not only do they forget, they forget the big three-oh.

so he tells himself not only that he's too old now to care about his birthday, but he spent so long not celebrating it anyway, and he's fine. it's fine.

and then emily finds out. and it's not fine. and he is upset about it.

[natileroxs]

I barely even know if the khr Fandom is even around anymore but I do want to raise an interesting point that I've been thinking over a hell of a lot.

So the wiki doesn't say anything about the actual ages of the Arcobaleno, only that they are physically about 2 years old (but Lambo and Ipin are both around 5/6 and the choice to have them look the same is a bizarre one at best but I digress). We can assume, based on looks and status, that the Arcobaleno were, at the time when they got the pacifiers, all roughly around the same age and at least older than 25 but probably edging closer toward 30-35. Reborn especially comes off as older than 30, with more life experience.

We do have a rough idea about how long they have been Arcobaleno's though. Luce was pregnant when she got her pacifier and then she had Aria, who then grew up to have Uni. In the future, Uni looks to be about the same age or maybe a little younger than the guardians at around 12 or 13, which would make her around 2 or 3 in current time. Aria was said to have died young, but after Uni was born. To give a decent guess, Aria might have been around 25 when she died. Since she had to have died less than 3 years prior, my current assumption now is that the Arcobaleno have had their pacifiers for nearly thirty years.

Now where am I going with this? Well, I'm going straight to Fon and Hibari. I am just as much of a perpetrator in the whole Uncle Fon thing despite the fact that, according to my calculations, Fon would actually be closer to 65 while Hibari is only around 16. And yes, Hibari's parent (usual hc I see is his mom but either works) could have a giant age gap or have had Hibari late, but most women cannot have children past the age of 50 due to menopause. 15 years or more is a large age gap for siblings.

But an age gap larger than that would actually make it fit better if Fon is actually Hibari's grandfather. Which is funny, I know. But hear me out. Fon has a daughter before he becomes an Arcobaleno, then he gets his pacifier when she is a child/teen. And then she grows up and has Kyoya. (Don't even get me started on how I would fit Ipin into this family tree because it's just so weird that Fon is helping out this random child)

Anyway, if any of you guys still exist, please give me your thoughts.

[2demondogs]

Hi! Could I get some domestic Charles headcanons? Like if him on his own ranch with his partner and children?

Sure!! Gender-neutral reader! Sorta hit a block on this one bc while I want to wife Charles up 100%, I am very much destined to be a Cool Gay Uncle, so I hope it's okay lol.

Charles does most of the hunting, slaughtering, and cooking. He's good at the former, doesn't mind the rest, and he likes that you compliment the latter. If you want to join him catching dinner or cooking it, Charles is usually more than happy to have company. He'd also love the opportunity to teach you whatever he can; once they're old enough, teaching the kids is his favorite way to bond with them.

He does need alone time, and wants to give you yours. There's only so much interaction anyone can take, and Charles is a naturally reclusive man. Normally, he'll take hunting trips or repairs around the place as an excuse to be on his lonesome for a while. If you're not someone who frequently needs to recharge on your own, he'll probably worry that he's stressing you out being so... around.

For a quiet guy, he rambles at night. Charles tends to talk pre-sleep anxieties out with you when he's tired enough — and he has a lot of them, for living such a slow life nowadays. Things from the past, what comes in the future, what that hide will fetch. By the time kids come along, he'll wear his brain smooth on one side worrying about them. Especially the girls. He is a Girl Dad for sure.

Charles is not very good with young kids. He's good at respecting them as their own tiny, more chaotic versions of adults. Patience is a virtue, and he can put up with their nonsense — though that's more affectionately thought than anything — for a long time, as long as they're satisfied in committing it. Once they start crying, though... let's just say that approaching a child the same way he approaches wounded animals worked until he spoke too hard on accident, and the kid burst into tears again.

Kids love him regardless. Usually, anyways. There was a period of time where babies tended to cry whenever he looked at them, and neither of you really know why to this day. But he's quiet, so they can talk all they want; he's tall and sturdy enough to climb; very firm hugs, and doesn't mind giving them; and once they're old enough, his advice is solid without being too kind. He's kept his physique if only because, for some reason, every single kid has loved being swung around like a feed sack. Like most things, he doesn't get the appeal, but whatever makes the critters happy, y'know?

Despite the difficulties, a family was never a bad idea. Charles likes the idea of having roots, and having them with you. Anything stationary is a grace in his life. To think the rest of it could be nothing but that is at once suffocating and comforting. He'll probably drag you all on a few trips and wander off on some excursions to sate the drive to run around, but beyond that, he's just fine being a homebody now that he's got a home.

One of his more sentimental insistences is a yearly family portrait. It's an expense, but ranching is good enough money to warrant it. Beyond expressions of contentment, he doesn't often make gestures or say much in the vein of this— but it says enough about what you all mean to him that he gets a few prints of each one.

He doesn't tell the kids much of his history. Of course, he connects with them as deeply as he can because they're his babies. Charles is the master of dropping absolutely horrific lore on them over a beer once they hit their thirties, but before then? Good luck. It's dangerous, sure; he wasn't always a good man, no, and sometimes he's ashamed; most of all, what happened in and to the Van der Linde gang — and the world they sprouted from, and where that world is buried, and where the world is going nowadays, and everything else — still scares him. He would be happier if you didn't know a lick of it, either.

[pixienohken]

Since I played Shadow Generations, I went back to re-watch the opening cutscene of the 2005 game. And wow, my 8 year old brain definitely filtered some of the stuff in the intro, or didn't notice it because of how fast it played. The black arms are probably one of the most brutal factions in sonic history. They literally just drop out of the sky and start raising hell, which is unironically terrifying if you were just a civilian living in the city.

Like, look at the scene where the giant one tosses an entire car and causes an explosion. It rolls, and explodes right by a gun squad, ragdolling them all instantly. That's three or four people DEAD.

The next scene has a POV of a Gun Soldier, and you see a black arms trooper hop up on a car, and guns down a soldier. And another black arms on the left just walking casually shoots the other one (and continues shooting the dude's body, absolutely brutal.) The only gun soldier standing which is the soldier we have the POV of, gets attacked by one of the flying black arms. That's presumably three more dead, possibly even more, since the one on top of the car continues shooting at something off screen.

Even while GUN troops are getting destroyed, not even civilians are safe, because although the car this behemoth lands on is empty, he slams a civilian car into the building. I thought it was a cop car, but this is a solid black car, no white doors or anything. All of the civilians in that car (Possibly a family with children) are now gone.

The final scene in the intro is probably the most brutal, because of how much stuff happens in just a few seconds. In fact if you blink you'll probably miss it, so I zoomed in a little.

On the top left you can see a squad of three GUN soldiers being absolutely demolished by some sort of explosion launched by the Black Arms troopers charging at them. Then those same troops keep sprinting past their bodies and begin shooting at presumably more people between the buildings who were probably survivors trying to hide.

On the lower right we see that there's an entire horde of them, a behemoth throwing a police car at something off screen. (Probably a person) and all around him there's like a dozen or so black arm troops walking around and shooting at everything and everyone (once more off screen)

I find this one the most disturbing for two reasons. One is that if you look closely, some of them who are hanging behind the parade are just purposefully shooting at wrecked cars and debris piles. Which could mean either they're purposefully causing as much destruction as possible, or they're trying to scare survivors out. (They even bothered animating the sparks of laser bolts hitting the cars and walls, which meant the animators purposefully animated some of them doing that.)

The other reason I find it somewhat unnerving is that the idea of an entire horde of black arm troops just walking down the street and brutally massacring the town, and in such a casual manner as if it's a completely normal thing.

All those people dead in like a twenty or thirty second timespan. The fact that somehow all this stuff was in a sonic game. A SONIC GAME. ONLY RATED E 10 AND UP, LIKE NONE OF THIS WAS WORTH THE TEEN RATING?

H O W ? !

Back in the 2000s, people accused this game of blatantly copying the Covenant from the Halo series, and even if they did, they definitely were faithful to the original material, considering they kept in the part of the aliens wanting to genocide humanity and will gun down any human they see.

Anyways rambling over. I love Shadow and I love his game. :-)

[mac-n-chees]

why your attack on titan otp isn’t canon

eremika: what tf are y’all doing here you guys are one of the only ones who can say it’s a canon ship gtfo

levihan: you guys are cute aww these guys are like a couple of siblings❤️ cmon y’all levihan are platonic soulmates and erwin smith is RIGHT THERE

eren x annie (anieren? ereani?): touch grass. you saw one interaction and decided they were the perfect couple, this is literally the dramione of aot, the zutara of this anime. just because you’re horny doesn’t mean everyone else is, pls keep ur hormones in check<3

erwin x hange: as i was writing this post the thought occurred to me that someone might ship this and it caused me physical pain but if you ship this ig you’re cool cause i’ve never seen this ship at all so therefore i’ve never been attacked by one of you online so congrats🥳 but they’re not canon cos literally not one soul ships them so whatever

eruri: is this the right name cause ship names in this fandom go crazy sometimes. anyways these the gayest mfs i’ve ever seen and the only reason they’re not canon is cause erwin had to die. doomed ships for the win😻 but you KNOW levi was getting some behind the scenes, cmon y’all

jearmin: hajime isayama is a coward

jeanmarco: gonna be honest, i did not give two shits when marco died. idk how this is a popular ship since marco got clapped in like episode 3. i mean i can see it ig but to me they just look like friends (and that’s probably what isayama was thinking too)

beruannie: one-sided as fuck

erehisu: historia is a lesbian (“oH bUt wHaT aBoUt tHe fArMeR???” she needed a sperm donor and he was the closest one they are not in love)

jeankasa: eremika solos, sorry, mikasa will always love eren (stay sour jean✌🏼)

levi x any of the members of the 104th: they are CHILDREN and levi is a full grown, thirty something year old ADULT, if you ship any of these there’s a special cell in jail waiting for you

mobihan: who even is moblit this ship forgettable as fuck. but i mean its not bad but again isayama hates love and romance so moblit had to die (sorry mobihan lovers)

springles (aka connie x sasha): you guys they’re PLATONIC SOULMATES, and they’re portrayed as such. also niccolo exists you guys sasha and connie are just like siblings

eremin: hajime isayama is a COWARD. you CANNOT TELL ME that the whole “i will stay with you forever” interaction in the final season was not FRUITY AS FUCK, there was so much tension but isayama’s a PUSSY

reiner x historia: historia is a lesbian

pikuhan: you guys have got to stop shipping everyone you see interact

for bonus points everyone tell me the ship you HATEEEEE i’ll go first😻:

aruani✨✨🌈🌈🌙🌙

if you want an explanation you won’t get one unless i get harassed enough thank you and good night

[youunravelme]

to all the girls you loved before part 3

author's note: thanks for all the kind words you left in the last two parts!! to everyone who wanted to be tagged but didn’t, i tried and tumblr wouldn’t let me, for some reason. :(

pairing: single dad!mat barzal x reader

summary: being a nanny for rich people was probably the worst thing that ever happened to you, until you started working for mat.

warnings: children, rich people, volatile/toxic relationship

day thirty two

"you look rough."

maybe it was the look on your face, or maybe it was your slouched shoulders. either way, mat almost immediately offered you a cup of coffee instead of apologizing.

"my roommate kept me up with her midnight hijinks. i couldn't sleep."

mat grimaced and all but shoved the cup of coffee in your hands. "i know i say this every day, but if you need to nap when ella goes down, the guest room is open."

you took a sip, cringing at the black coffee, but grateful for it anyway. "i might take you up on that offer."

"when you say 'hijinks'..." he trailed off.

"she was fucking someone really loudly. has been for awhile now," you said as you plopped down on the couch, some of the coffee spilling out of the mug and onto your fingers.

"must be nice," mat grumbled. he gestured to ella who was sitting on the floor with toys in a pack in play. "i haven't gotten any since before ella."

"you expect me to be shocked by that?" he stared at you blankly. "mat, i would know if you were seeing someone. mainly because i'm here more than you are."

he opened his mouth to protest, but sat down on the couch next to you. "touche."

"what time do you have to be at practice today?"

a quick glance at his watch told you it was later than he anticipated when he all but jumped off the couch and ran back to his room.

"running late?" you managed to croak out between laughs.

mat poked his head back into the living room with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. "just a little."

"are you driving or is tito picking you up?"

"ee-o," he called from the bathroom. you could only surmise that you were meant to understand that tito was the one driving today.

and like he was summoned, tito burst through the front door and ignored your presence in favor of cooing at ella.

"are you a sweet girl?" he asked. she didn't pay him any attention, more enraptured with the book in front of her. tito huffed and looked at you. "why is she in baby jail?"

you couldn't stop yourself, a laugh slipped out. "baby jail?"

"it's a pack and play, tito," mat said from the bathroom. "and she's in there because she's safe while i get ready."

"then what are you paying mary poppins here for?" tito joked.

"i don't disturb happy babies," you shrugged.

it was silent for a moment. you and tito held eye contact before he moved to sit on the couch next to you. "you've trained him well," he whispered. "didn't think he had a paternal bone in his body."

you didn't know what it was about tito that always had you smiling. maybe it was the fact that he was so at ease all the time. or the earnest attitude he had. or maybe it was the diehard loyalty to mat. or it could've just been that he was fun to be around.

"give him some credit," you said. "he's made a lot of changes in the past month."

"no denying there. the whole team can see it. you've been good for him, momma bear."

you almost shot off the couch. "mama bear?"

"tito," mat groaned from his place in the bathroom. "i thought i told you not to call her that."

the man in question looked unbothered. "you can't say you wouldn't go mama bear on someone for ella."

you opened and closed your mouth before looking down and ignoring him entirely. a quick glance at the clock on your phone had you changing the subject. "aren't you supposed to be leaving now?"

"we would if mat would stop fixing his hair," tito snipped. he turned his head towards the hallway bathroom. "your hair is going into a helmet, mathew. we're not going to the met gala."

mat came out dressed in all black with his hair looking....

the exact same as it did seven minutes ago.

"what the hell took you so long?" tito asked. "you look like you always do. with the amount of time it took you to get ready, i was hoping you would've looked better."

mat flipped off tito, but other than that, ignored him entirely. he walked over to where ella was and picked her up, kissing the top of her head when she curled into his chest. "i'll be back later, ella bean. i love you."

your ears heard everything, but the moment felt private, so you pretended like someone was texting you something important at 7:30 in the morning. the phone had your focus until mat called your name; you looked up almost immediately.

"i'll be back in a few hours."

day thirty four

"i'm so glad you're here," mat said as soon as he opened up the door. you walked in, albeit hesitantly, waiting for someone or something to jump out at you. there weren't many times when someone was actually excited to see you. though, you supposed, all that changed when you met mat.

"what happened? is ella okay?" you asked warily.

he smiled. "she's great! she's in the pack and play while i got ready. are you okay? how are you?"

"i'm fine?...look are you okay? you seem, hyper."

mat shrugged. "just excited. i have a surprise for you."

you blinked once. twice. three times. until the words finally registered with you. "a surprise?" you'd only known him for a month, how did he know you well enough to surprise you?

it was like a switch flipped and suddenly mat was rubbing the back of his neck and walking over to ella to find something to do. "well yeah," he said. "i know you said you didn't really know anything about hockey, so i thought you could come to the game today."

you opened your mouth to reply but he cut you off.

"an--and you could bring jason! i have two tickets, one for you, one for him."

"what about ella?" you asked. "her sleep schedule might be affected."

"i thought about that, but i talked to matt martin and he said sydney, his wife, had done it. worse comes to worst, we can set up a pack and play in the box and she could sleep there for the time being."

you looked at him, and really looked at him. usually, mat was full of confidence, walked around like he owned the place (which in this case, he kinda did). but now? he would barely meet your eye and kept rubbing the back of his neck like he had an itch there.

"i'll go!" you said to finally put him out of his misery. "i just--what do you wear to a hockey game?"

mat's eyes lit up like a kid on christmas. "you can wear my jersey!" you must've had a look on your face because he quickly backtracked. "or tito's! if you want."

"no!" you said before you could stop yourself. "no, i'll wear your jersey. i know you better anyway." you weren't sure what it was but the poorly concealed panic on mat's face did something to make you agree. jason probably wouldn't like it, but you could probably explain that everyone wore jerseys at games. it wasn't that big of a deal.

"great," mat smiled. "that's--that's great."

and it was. you stayed at mat's apartment until it was time to leave for the game. you were dressed in your jeans and threw mat's jersey over your shirt, when jason texted that he was outside. you tossed on a coat. you grabbed ella who was decked out in a mini barzal jersey and sweat pants and sitting in her car seat. you made a quick grab for the diaper bag before locking up.

you met jason down at his car where he sat in the driver's seat. he didn't get out to open the back seat for ella, the most he did was unlock the car. when you finally got her situated, you got in the front seat, not sparing him a glare at his lack of help.

"thanks for the assistance," you bit out.

"i didn't know what you wanted me to do. i'm not a mind reader!" jason snapped back as he pulled the car away from the curb. "besides, it's just a baby car seat, it's not like you couldn't handle it."

"it would've been nice had you even offered to grab the diaper bag or offered any help at all."

jason scoffed. "whatever."

not a word was spoken outside of ella's babbling in the back seat.

by the time the three of you arrived at the arena, you were hopeful that you could act like nothing happened. you got out of the car, and put the baby carrier on while jason grabbed the diaper bag. you quickly got ella situated in the carrier and put on the lanyard mat gave you, handing jason's to him.

the three of you started walking towards the arena. everything was fine until another fan made a comment when you got inside.

he pointed at you and shouted. "a house divided, eh?"

you furrowed your brows. what the hell was he talking about? you turned and looked at jason who was doing his best to look as confused as you were and failing horribly.

he was wearing a rangers jersey.

to the rangers and isles game.

when you were invited by mat.

you clenched your jaw and kept walking, not wanting to make a scene in front of everyone.

by the time you made it inside the box, you were fuming. you wanted so badly to scream at him for being a dick, but another part of you said he was allowed to wear a jersey for a team he liked. after all, that's what you were doing, right?

right?

not that you really had time to think about it because the prettiest woman you think you'd ever seen came bounding over to you with the whitest smile you'd ever seen in real life.

"hi!" she said. "i'm sydney, mat's told us so much about you and miss ella."

you introduced yourself and did your best to smile back, though you're not sure if it was convincing. "this is my boyfriend, jason."

for a moment, just a flicker of a second, the smile on sydney's face faltered. it was so quick you almost second guessed yourself that it ever happened in the first place. "i'm really excited you're here, we love new company." she grabbed you by the arm in a gentle way but with a strong enough grip that you knew you really had no other option. "let me introduce you to everyone!"

after introductions, you found yourself and ella a seat. you pulled her out of the carrier before taking the carrier and your coat off. an action you almost immediately regretted.

"are you fucking serious?" you heard jason say. you turned with ella in your arms to see his normally pale face burning red. "you're wearing his jersey?"

there were no words coming to your mind. the two of you had argued before, but you had never seen him this volatile before.

in a flash, he was in front of you yelling as spit flew from his mouth. you didn't even register what he was saying, how could you when ella was crying? all you remembered was mumbling an apology over and over but that only served to make him angrier.

it wasn't until sydney literally got between you two that he stopped screaming. he looked around to see everyone staring at the two of you and threw his hands up in the air. "you know what?" he said. "fuck you, i'm leaving. you can find another way home."

sydney was in front of you, trying to calm you and ella down but you couldn't hear anything over the blood rushing in your ears.

jason was never the nicest boyfriend, but he'd never been that angry before. you'd never been scared of him before.

"here," sydney said. "let's get you some water."

"ella's upset--"

"because she knows you're upset. once you calm down, you can calm her down."

you nodded and let her sit you in a chair and bring you a glass of water. once your hands stopped shaking, you were able to bring ella to your chest and rub her back in the way you knew she liked.

"i'm sorry," you said.

sydney just tilted her head in confusion. "what for?"

"i brought him here, i didn't know he'd act like that--"

"honey, you are not responsible for a grown man's reaction to a stupid jersey." she pulled her chair closer to yours. "so let's just put all of that on the back burner and enjoy the game, okay?"

you nodded and turned your attention back to the rink where the players were warming up. ella yawned and snuggled into your chest when it hit you.

you forgot the pack and play.

"shit."

"honey, i told you it's okay--"

"no," you laughed. "it's just i forgot the pack and play so my boyfriend isn't gonna be the only who's mad at me by the end of tonight."

sydney, despite the implications of your statement, smiled. "she'll live," she said. "mine have definitely missed bedtime before and they're turning out alright. just means tomorrow might be a little difficult."

"thanks, sydney.'

"anytime!"

the two of you turned your attention to the rink where the game was beginning. occasionally, you'd get up and bounce ella around the suite, but for the most part, she was content as long as she was in your arms. by the time the second period was over, the isles were tied with the rangers 1-1.

ella had long since fallen asleep in the carrier with her thumb in her mouth. the tears were long gone by then, both of you having calmed down significantly since the start of the game. though now your heart was racing due to the intensity of the game instead of the screaming of your boyfriend.

despite your anger at him earlier, and the fear you felt before he left, you still found yourself checking your phone periodically for any text or missed call he might've left.

nothing.

you were so focused, you nearly missed mat's one goal of the night but your attention was brought to the game when you heard sydney shout his name.

you smiled as you watched him celebrate his goal, skating around the rink and shouting. you were too high up to see if he smiled the same way he did when he looked at ella, with that same look of pride. maybe you'd come back to another game to see it up close and personal for yourself.

the isles won 2-1.

sydney, ella, and you waited in the suite until the stands had mostly cleared out, then the three of you made your way down to the locker rooms. ella was out like a light, and you couldn't blame her. you were out later than you had been in months.

you and sydney made small talk while you waited for mat and matt. you watched as other players greeted their friends and family, smiling at the hugs and kisses going around.

it wasn't until matt martin came out that the tears started coming back. the way his face lit up at the sight of his wife, the kiss her gave her that was almost too inappropriate for a public place--

you would've given anything to be loved like that.

in the two years you'd dated jason, you couldn't remember him ever looking at you like that, like you were his entire universe.

you cleared your throat and rubbed at your eyes just in time for mat and tito to walk out.

"mama bear!" tito called. he started to jog over but slowed down when he saw ella asleep in the carrier.

mat, however, looked you over. his brows pulled together and his lips turned down in a small frown. it didn't make sense on the face of someone who shot the game winning goal.

but it made sense for an observant friend who noticed the plus one you came with.

"where's jason?" he asked.

"i--"

sydney cut in with a smile on her face as she dragged her husband over. "this is mat's nanny, babe. the one i was telling you about?"

you could've kissed her feet for the change in subject.

"nice to meet you in person, finally. barzy over here talks about you and ella all the time." matt stuck his hand out to shake, ignoring the glares of the other mat.

"well, we gotta get home to the girls," sydney said. "nice to meet you finally. maybe i'll see you at another game, yeah?" you smiled and nodded and watched as the happy couple walked away.

when they were finally out of sight, you turned your attention back to mat and tito, both whom looked a little too good in their suits.

"where's jason?" mat asked for the second time now that you didn't have another person around to interrupt you.

"he left," was all you said.

"he left you here? alone?"

you nodded. "and he took the car seat."

mat nodded and clenched his jaw while tito glanced back and forth between you two. "i'll drive you home. thankfully, he took the bonus car seat and not the one i use."

you mumbled a small thanks and watched dumbly as he scooped the diaper bag off your shoulder and put it on his own. "mat i can carry it just fine--"

"sounds like you've been carrying enough on your own. i got it."

you had no rebuttal, so you followed him and tito out to the garage. tito parted ways when you reached mat's car. he bid you a silent wave and smile as a form of goodbye and headed to his own vehicle.

you didn't speak until mat started the car. not even when the both of you were loading ella carefully into the car seat or putting the diaper bag in the back. you didn't even say anything when he handed you his phone to plug your address in.

it was silent until you mumbled a small "thank you."

"for what?" he asked.

'"for taking me home. for inviting me to the game even when jason..." you trailed off.

"when jason...?" he implored you to go on. you hesitated. "cmon, you've seen me at my worst, scared about this new baby and raising her. you can trust me."

you sighed. "jason kind of lost his mind tonight and made a huge scene. i tried apologizing to sydney but she wouldn't have it. i'm just sorry that we embarrassed you like that."

mat went real quiet for a second. and in the corner of your eye, you saw his fists grip the steering wheel a little tighter. "what did he say?"

"huh?"

"i saw the look on your face when we came out. he said something that upset you. what did he say?"

and how do you say you didn't remember words just feelings? you couldn't remember the insults he hurled your way, but you remembered the sting of his tone and the burn of his spit and the pure rage in his eyes. you could remember shaking like a leaf during fall and the cries of ella muffled by the jersey with her last name on the back and her father's number on the sleeve.

mat called your name. "i don't remember." he didn't look convinced. "i really don't. he said a lot of things but i blocked most of it out," you said thinking that would placate him.

if anything, it made him angrier.

but he didn't say anything, mainly because your apartment was approaching and he didn't have time. mat parked the car out in front of your building and turned his flashers on.

"you need me to walk you up?" he asked.

you shook your head. "you have ella in the back. i'll be fine."

"text me when you get inside."

any other day, you would've argued with him, but you were just glad someone cared enough about your wellbeing to ask, so you nodded and opened the door.

you got into the elevator, hands wringing themselves together. you wondered what you'd tell your roommate natalie, if you'd tell her anything. but considering how much jason liked to make your relationship business natalie's business, she probably already knew and she probably was waiting on the couch ready to chastise you.

the elevator doors opened at your floor. you walked down the hallway towards your front door. you pulled your phone out, ready to text mat when you heard noises coming from inside your apartment.

your first thought was: intruders. but when listening a little harder, it just sounded like moans. you rolled your eyes and carefully and quietly unlocked the door. only to be confronted with clothes strewn about the living area. natalie's shirt, shorts, socks, all leading on a less than ideal trail to her bedroom. you shouldn't be surprised given how active she's been lately. you just never expected it to be this in your face.

you continued into your apartment, two seconds away from texting mat when you saw it.

a rangers jersey.

taglist:

@whenmypartysover @sunflowerhood @spencereidbasis @icanfsplel @avareadsthings @zegraswrites @calermakar @heyitsmeimdead @kashee-h @bordelhoe

[im-turnip]

Decorating for Halloween - BuckTommy - GA -

1073 words

Tommy stared at the large mysterious package on his porch for another moment before answering. “Did you have something shipped to my house?” He knew he hadn’t ordered anything, and the shipping label read Evan Buckley followed by Tommy’s address.

Read on ao3 Or under the cut

I really just didn’t have the energy to get more in depth with this but didn’t want it to be another abandoned wip

“Uh, Ev?” Tommy called to his boyfriend from where he stood in the open doorway of his home.

“Yeah, babe?” Evan yelled back, partially distracted by the vegetables he was chopping for the dinner he was preparing for the two of them.

Tommy stared at the large mysterious package on his porch for another moment before answering. “Did you have something shipped to my house?” He knew he hadn’t ordered anything, and the shipping label read Evan Buckley followed by Tommy’s address.

“What are you- oh shit!” Evan exclaimed, setting his knife down to dart through the house towards the front door. Tommy stepped aside, allowing the younger man to slip past him onto the porch.

“Don’t get me wrong, I don’t mind you having stuff shipped here, but what the hell did you order that requires a box that big?” Tommy asked, eyebrows raised in confusion at the size of the box.

“Okay, Don’t be mad. I-I probably should have asked first but I-I’ve always wanted to go all out for Halloween. Decorating, trick-or-treaters, costumes, the whole thing. A-and you have this big yard and you said you don’t usually decorate so I may have maybe ordered some decorations?” He said, a sheepish smile stretching across his lips.

Tommy was silent for a beat, processing the man's ramblings. Evan’s smile fell slowly, perceiving his silence and confused expression for anger.

“I-I can send it back. Or see if I can put it up at Maddie’s. They were on sale and I couldn’t resist. I’m so sorry, I should have asked first.” He said as he moved to pick the package up to take to his car.

“Evan, it’s okay.” Tommy said, a reassuring smile forming after his initial confusion wore off. “You’re more than welcome to decorate my house for Halloween if you want. I’m sure the neighborhood kids would love it.”

That’s definitely true. Being a single man in his late thirties and early forties in a cul de sac filled with mainly families with young children and his schedule has always left his house to be the only one in the neighborhood undecorated for the holiday. He’s always worked Halloween or just came off a 48 and spent the entire day sleeping so he didn’t get much in the way of trick-or-treaters either. His schedule just didn’t allow it. That, and what’s put up must eventually be taken down and put away and no one likes that part.

“Really? Are you sure? I can send it back.” Evan asked, even as his smile began to reappear.

“Of course.” Tommy replied, pulling his boyfriend in to press a soft, quick kiss to his lips. Evan’s grin got even more blinding before pulling Tommy back into him and into a kiss a little too pg-13 to be taking place on his front porch.

Pulling away from the kiss, Tommy tapped the box with his foot. “What is this anyway?” He asked.

“You’ll see when it’s all done. I’ve got Saturday off, I planned on putting everything up then. I’ll go put this in the garage.” he answered, hauling the box to the garage.

Tommy smiled as he watched his boyfriend. Maybe Halloween isn’t his thing, but if it makes Evan light up brighter than the sun, who is he to deny him that?

—

By the time Saturday rolled around, Tommy had almost forgotten about the decorating plans. When he pulls into his driveway he’s stunned by the sight of his front yard. He slowly steps out of his truck, bag over his shoulder as he takes in Evan’s work.

There’s a graveyard scattered across the grass; tombstones and short fencing, complete with a couple of plastic zombies positioned to look like they’re crawling up from the yard. Fake spider webbing is stretched from the gutter to the railing of the porch with little spiders woven in and the front steps are edged with pumpkins (the plastic kind that won’t get old and mushy and make a mess when they rot on the concrete.) And then the big focal point, what Tommy assumes was in the package, a twelve-foot-tall skeleton.

He spots his boyfriend on the porch putting the final touches on the spider web.

“Wow.” Tommy says, startling him out of his focus.

“Oh, uh. Tada!” Evan exclaims, throwing his arms out with a small jump as he presents his work.

“Do you like it? There were a couple of other things at the Halloween store I thought about getting but I figured this might be overboard enough as it is. Is it too much?”

“Ev. It’s great.” Tommy smiled, climbing the porch steps.

“Really?” Evan asks, a hopeful gleam in his eye.

“Yes, Evan. I love it.” Tommy says, loosely gripping the younger man’s waist to pull him in for a kiss. “I love you.” He whispers against his lips.

—

They’d both managed Halloween night off, both just coming off 24’s. Evan was ecstatic when the first kid rang the doorbell that evening. They greeted each visitor together, Evan dressed to the nines in costume and Tommy in a t-shirt that reads This is my costume.

Two days before Halloween.

“I’m not dressing up, Evan. It’s just not my thing.”

“Come on Tommy. We’ll get a couples costume. It’ll be great.”

“You dress up and I’ll just be the supportive boyfriend, okay?”

“Fine.” Evan relented. This little argument had been going off and on for the whole day. “But next year you’re dressing up with me. No arguments.” He added.

Tommy couldn’t argue. Not with the way he said “next year” like he had absolutely no doubts they’d still be together this time next year.

“Absolutely, baby.” Tommy agreed, a fond smile on his face.

The neighborhood kids and their parents had all made their way around, each parent having a comment about being glad to see Tommy taking part in the festivities.

“Your neighbors were happy.” Evan called through the house as he cleaned up the kitchen and Tommy locked up.

“Yeah, they loved your decorations.” Tommy replied as he flipped the porch light off and followed his boyfriend into the kitchen.

“Can’t wait to see what you do for Christmas.” He added, leaning against the door frame.

“Yeah? You’d let me decorate your house for Christmas too?” Evan asked, trying not to show the already growing excitement.

“Of course. Although I was hoping it’d be our house before then.”

[radioactivepeasant]

Snippets: Free Day Thursday

(Goes in the series where Jak got to Spargus via trespassing 😆 takes place after Jak sneaks into the Arena)

Despite the threats of being "grounded until you're thirty-six" (per the advisor in the foundlings' dormitory), no one had taken Jak's gate pass or war amulet. He'd won them on his own, whether or not he met some arbitrary threshold based on bone growth. A lot of Wastelanders on the street talked down to them still, like they were children -- one weird guy with neither hair nor pants kept calling them "anklebiters" and scornfully laughing that the king would never let them leave the city again. But after crashing Sam's second Arena trial, Jak had started hearing approval here and there.

What he couldn't fathom was how often their approval centered around his dark eco form!

That abomination? The walking demonstration of how dark eco was an affront to life?

Easy there, that's Samos talking. If it was wholly evil, the Oracle wouldn't have taught me to make the Dark Form my own, beyond anything Praxis could dream of.

"Useful", they called the horned menace.

Useful, like he'd demonstrated the skills of an electrician or architect or something!

And no one had tried to make him use it, not even once! The most anyone had said so far was "I bet it takes a lot of nerve to learn those moves!", or questions about how much food he had to eat to keep up with the calorie expenditure.

He and Daxter had been tasked with hunting down a local pest called a kangarat that had a bad habit of eating the city's stored grains -- and that had devolved into s tense moment on the beach with some kind of dark eco-probe thing.

Honestly, it was one of the few times when Jak's inability to read modern glyphs came in handy. The script scrolling across the screens had been ancient, even by Sandover standards. But it was close enough to the texts Uncle used to teach him to read that Jak had been able to reroute the power and drain its battery core.

That hadn't done much to make the monk like them.

Seem had a real problem with dark eco, apparently. And oddly, that had felt jarring after everyone else in Spargus.

Seem reminded Jak of Haven.

He didn't want to think about Haven right now.

Eventually someone would probably make him go back. But the war was over, right? It was just skirmishes now, something they'd handled before Jak and could handle without Jak. They'd gotten too used to taking him for granted anyway.

They'd probably be fine.

Right?

Jak shook the darkening thoughts away and made his way out of the Arena complex, shoving a roll into the small pouch that hung from his belt. Meals were scheduled here, and food was readily available, albeit not abundant. But two years and some change of regularly going hungry meant he and Daxter were almost always thinking about food in some way.

Daxter teased that Jak thought about food more than romance. Jak didn't think he was wrong, exactly.

"What do you think, can we make it to the gate without being stopped today?" Jak asked Daxter as he stepped down into the street.

"Only if the Mustachioed Menace isn't there."

Daxter shuddered.

"Jak, promise me if he goes for the fork and knife, you'll skewer him."

"Yeah no, he won't even get that far," Jak promised.

The heat was already in full swing, even at four bells after sunrise. Jak was surprised he'd adapted to it as quickly as he had. The dust? Not so much. He coughed and spat out grit from an errant breeze.

"Told you to pull the scarf up."

"I'd look like Jinx."

"Your vanity or sand in the mouth, up to you, pal."

The general plan had been to make their meandering way back to the beach -- they hadn't seen a clean beach or unpolluted water in years -- but about three minutes into the West Quarter, Jak stopped. A familiar staff was leaned up against a small structure made of stone and conductive metals, but when they glanced around, Damas was nowhere to be seen.

"Well, that's a little weird," Daxter commented.

Jak stepped closer and hunched down to look into the almost hutch-like building. A large, squat, generator sat there on five-inch stilts to keep it out of the sand. A box of tools lay beside it, and a man's lower half stuck out from underneath on a small rolling palette. It almost looked like-

"Uh...Damas?"

Jak wasn't sure the guy liked Jak going around calling him by his first name, but Jak had never been one to allow formalities.

There was a soft clang and a muffled curse. Then the palette rolled out and Damas was there, stained with grease and looking decidedly impatient.

"If it's not urgent, make Kleiver deal with it. I'm busy."

"Yeah, I see that."

Jak crouched to awkwardly waddle into the hut.

"What are you doing?"

Damas raised a brow and gestured silently to the generator as if asking isn't it obvious?

A touch chagrined, Jak waved a hand.

"No, I mean like- what's wrong with it?"

"And how come you're fixin' it?" Daxter added, "Are folks that shorthanded?"

The king simply rolled his eyes and slid back underneath the generator.

"I already told you," he grumbled, "Out here, you're either doing something useful with your life or you're just deadweight. A king sitting sedentary and barking out orders is the epitome of deadweight."

Daxter made an approving sound -- a rarity Damas would later learn to appreciate.

"I can respect it. Not how I'd run things, but not bad! You even got shade in here!"

Jak shrugged Daxter off his shoulder and tapped at the generator casing in interest.

"So what's busted? How big of a problem is it?"

"Well either the blue eco tube is blocked, or the conductors are bad," Damas grunted. "If the eco grid in the Northwest districts goes down, our defenses will be completely out on this side."

"...can I help?"

Damas wheeled back out, looking as though he wasn't sure what he'd heard.

"You what?"

Jak pushed the toolbox closer, making room to lay down and look at the inner workings of the generator.

"I want to help!" he said, "I'm good with eco!"

"Yeah, noticed that."

Damas took a pair of something that looked like forceps and crimped the line in question. He wanted the uncanny boy to just leave. Everything about him felt like he was on the cusp of learning something that could not be un-learned, and would shake the foundations of everything he knew. It made working very distracting. But the offer of aid freely given was never turned down in Spargus. Even if the boy did lead his mind in uncomfortable circles, he was here, and he was eager to help.

With a sigh, Damas gestured vaguely to the tool box.

"Give me the electrical current meter and the wire stripper."

"Got it. Wait, which one's the wire stripper?"

"The pliers that look like they have teeth."

"Oh, there they are."

Jak picked up the wire stripper and handed it over to Damas.

"I don't know a lot about tools yet, sorry. Everyone always makes me destroy things. They think it's all I'm good for. The Oracles are kind of the only ones who don't get mad if I want to fix things instead."

"Geez, kid."

"Yeah, I know. It's not great."

Jak leaned over. "Why do you want the wire stripper?"

Damas pulled down two colorful wires where Jak could see.

"Because," he muttered, "this colorful stuff is insulation. And I need it off if I'm going to test the conductor with this other wire- hey, is the mouthy cacomistle mutant still out there?"

Daxter made an offended gasp, and Damas nodded.

"Good. Tell me if the lights come on."

Damas pulled a black wire and a red wires together and touched the bare ends together.

"Anything?"

"Eehhhhh...." Daxter flopped a hand back and forth. "Lights are on, nobody's home."

"Well, it's not the conductors then. Rot, that means the eco crystallized."

"Crap, really?" Jak scooted closer. "Man, that's a pain to break down."

"Tell me about it."

Damas adjusted the cart and shoved an arm up into the inner workings.

Jak watched, wondering about what he'd said. Was Damas implying that he could channel, too? Well it was about time he met some other channelers! Kor and Praxis couldn't have wiped them all out!

Maybe that's why people here were more open-minded about dark eco. Maybe there were enough channelers around here to use the light eco in the temple that they didn't even worry about getting unbalanced.

"Jak, I need your hand here."

Damas smacked his shoulder with the back of his hand and pointed.

"Hold that, and don't let it fall on me."

"Got it!"

Damas began to unbolt the resevoir frame to get to the eco. "We," he grumbled, "are going to be here a while."

"I'd offer to dissolve it with some dark eco, but I have no idea what that would do to your generator."

"Yeah let's avoid potentially possessed hardware," Damas said, "I'd just as soon skip a repeat of your little adventure on the beach with that...thing."

Jak winced and readjusted his grip on the frame. "...ah. You know about that, huh?"

"I'm the king, kid. I know everything."

It didn't cross his mind until much later that -- in spite of his misgivings -- he'd started treating Jak like any other Spargan. Nor had he considered at the time that he might have been setting a precedent. But when what should have been a simple repair job turned into an impromptu lesson on basic tool function, it seemed that Jak had lost any of the few reservations he had about Damas.

The next two weeks were filled with "what are you doing?" and "where are you going?", "can I come?" "Can I help?"

It was like Mar all over again, but as a skinny teenager!

There would come a day in the near future when Damas would look back on his choice of description with some very colorful swearing about the clarity of hindsight.