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armpirate · 1 month

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Soundleasure | Choi San || CH. 30

Pairings: Soft!San x fem!reader || Strangers to lovers, fake dating

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, online sex, ghosting

Warnings: inexperienced!San, fem!reader, masturbation, online sex, camboy, first times.

Summary: You can do whatever you please and be whoever you want on the Internet. And San knew that a little bit too well.

After finally following all the signs the universe was throwing at him, he started living a double life that no one was aware of. Everyone in his daily life knew him as Choi San, the reserved and quiet boy who wouldn't raise his voice, and would barely communicate with anyone outside of his comfort group. But only a few knew him as Soundleasure, the man with a sexy voice and a filthy mind that had their toes curling just with his narrations.

He never thought of the possibility of those two lives ever meeting, he had always tried for them to follow a parallel route and had always played safe to keep his friends from ever suspecting that side even existed. But his plans will start to crumble when he gets a little too close with one of his subscribers and she invades his real-self and altergo's universes without being able to stop it.

Y/n will not only help him to keep his secret from his circle, but will also show him there's more of Soundleasure in him than he'd like to admit.

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Aprox. time of reading: 18 minutes

Her lips were trapped against one another while she tried to control the tears from rolling down her cheeks, holding the phone against her ear while she heard her mother speaking gently to her. And she recognized that tone from the very beginning. It was the same one she used to use whenever she stayed home because she was feeling sick. And there it was, all over again.

It had been just a few days since she was sent home by her doctor, encouraged to rest and work on feeling better, while everyone just hoped the aftermath of the outbreak wouldn't last too long that time.

Her fingers moved over the wheel of her car, thinking of how different it would've been if her parents hadn't known. San would probably be the one helping her step inside her routine, but he wasn't there.

And maybe that was for the best.

She was upset about San disrespecting her decision, but she could understand where it came from. He found himself under a pressure he never had been before, in a situation that would have anyone in his place almost losing it. And that was what upsetted her the most, putting him in that place where he didn't belong.

As much as the garage of her workplace looked as always, there was definitely something different in it as she stepped outside, landing her flat sneakers on the pavement, still finding it difficult to balance her weight on her two legs similarly. Y/n was convinced it was going to be a difficult day, mainly because her father would probably be around her to check on her situation.

She wasn't wrong.

From the distance, she could see a tall thick figure approaching her from the entrance of the garage, which led to the elevators to the office. Without letting her speak, he picked up her bag, so she'd only have to carry her purse.

—I thought I was clear on treating me like always —she sighed, turning to her father with judging eyes.

—And when did I not do this? —he interrogated, walking ahead of her.

—Since I started going to high school —she quickly answered—. I promise I'll start working from home.

—I told you to do it, but you insisted on coming to the office.

She kept her sigh when he came back at her with that. Just a day before he was almost begging her to stay home and work more comfortably, yet she insisted on showing up to the office because she didn't want to be away longer than a week.

No one was supposed to know, and she also didn't want people to think that she had more privileges than the rest.

And trying to fight against her father was a lost war, there was nothing else she could do other than accept her fate.

—Is there anything new that I should know?

—Since yesterday evening when you last asked? —he let her step inside the elevator first, holding the door for her— No, nothing new —her father concluded—. Although, you have a group meeting with the scholars. Since you insisted on keeping up with their development, you'll need to attend the meeting.

—For that new project?

While she was struggling at home, the little updates she got from her father were about the new project he was planning to have the scholars to work on, directly involving them with the activities that were needed to get done so the company could keep evolving.

—Shouldn't I have spoken to all the people involved first? —her eyebrow arched while she turned to her father— How will I attend a meeting when I don't even know what the project is?

—Because you don't have to say anything —he shrugged—. I closed everything pending. The only thing you need to do is be there to know about it, and be able to guide your scholars and their mentors in case there are any doubts or problems.

Y/n nodded, instantly thinking of San. It was going to be the first time after a few days that they'd see each other.

—I can always lead that meeting. At least for today, and send you a report about it.

—No, it's alright —she quickly interrupted, stepping out of the lift first.

As much as she hated feeling lost when it came about a task or a project, her need to see San even if it was from afar was way bigger.

The rest of the morning went by slowly, with her eagerness falling heavy on her shoulders and making time pass slower than it normally would. She was excited, yet nervous to lead that meeting for several reasons. Would anyone notice her lack of mobility still? She had worked those days in getting her facial features to start working as they usually would. But most importantly, how would she react when she saw him after so long?

The air in the conference room was thick with anticipation as Y/n adjusted the papers in front of her, leading the table with fake confidence while her mind raced to keep her emotions in check. That was her first major meeting since the hospital and it was about work, about proving that she could handle everything, despite the turmoil inside. She couldn't afford any distractions. Not now.

The door creaked open, and she looked up, seeing some of the scholars stepping inside and sitting around the table while dedicating cordial smiles at her. Her breath caught as San stepped into the room. He was the last to arrive, his face drawn, eyes searching the room until they landed on her. A flicker of something -regret, maybe- passed between them before he looked away, taking a seat at the far end of the table. And next to him, as there could be no other way, Mia.

—Thank you all for coming —she spoke, forcing all the professionalism that was left in her—. We have a significant project ahead, as you might know, one that will be critical for our future partnerships and that will directly involve you in the company. You won't be taking the place of the learner, but the employee who produces and adds worth.

Her voice was steady, but inside, she could feel the cracks threatening to show. She couldn't look at San again, not without the risk of losing her composure. Instead, she focused on the screen, where the details of the project were outlined.

While she spoke, and trying to remain that serious facade for as long as possible, he couldn't help but wonder how she was feeling. Noticing how one of the sides of her lips didn't move the same way the other did, or how the expression in her eyes was also different.

His gaze was intense, but Y/n managed to work with it, avoiding to lose her concentration while proceeding to explain what was written on the guide her father had given her.

—We'll be working on this with... Hockman Industries? —she furrowed, checking twice the name. Her smile was nervous when she looked up again— As many of you know, they've been a reliable partner in the past, and their expertise will be invaluable.

The room murmured in agreement, but Y/n noticed San stiffen at the mention of the company name. He knew. Of course, he knew. Hockman Industries was owned by the same man who found the smallest detail to find something against their relationship, and who also was the father of her ex, the same one who bothered to look through her tagged posts to expose their relationship before it even existed.

As if on cue, the door swung open again, and in walked Tom, as confident as ever, his smile easy and professional. He greeted the team with handshakes and nods, his eyes finally landing on Y/n. There was a glint of familiarity in his gaze, a spark of something unresolved.

—Y/n, it's been a while. I'm looking forward to working together again.

She couldn't say the same.

—Likewise, Tom —she answered, ignoring the annoyance of having to work with him.

As they exchanged formalities, she could feel San's eyes on her. The room felt smaller, the air thicker with unspoken words. She tried to maintain her focus, but the tension was palpable. Tom's presence had always been commanding, but now it felt like they were throwing a pulse on her. One more test before they would finally leave her alone.

—I'm excited to collaborate on this project —Tom clapped, getting everyone's attention—. Our companies have always made a great team. Right, Y/n? And I'm confident we'll achieve something remarkable.

Tom's words were smooth, professional, but there was an undercurrent of something more in his tone when he glanced back at Y/n. She could feel San's gaze burning into her, even from across the room. The unspoken jealousy was almost tangible.

As the meeting progressed, Y/n found it increasingly difficult to keep her emotions in check. Every word out of Tom's mouth seemed to drag her further into the past, and every glance from San was a reminder of the mess her present had become.

Finally, the meeting neared its end. The discussions had gone well, and the team was enthusiastic about the collaboration. But Y/n knew the real challenge was only just beginning.

The silence invaded her after the cracking of chairs being dragged, and the murmurs of the scholars while they headed outside the room decreased. Before she could take a breath while picking up the few things she had brought with her, she heard some soft and cautious footsteps approaching her. Looking up over her shoulder, she found herself dropping her gaze when she was aware of San's eyes.

—How are you? —he asked, stepping closer to her.

—I'm okay —she whispered, focusing on her fingers that were holding nothing.

—Y/n... I

San had thought several times of the words he'd dedicate to her once he saw her again, he even practiced with Wooyoung after he was caught doing a monologue in his room at two in the morning. But all those monologues disappeared in the air when her eyes first landed on him, and he was received with nothing but distance from her side.

—Oops, am I interrupting something? —a male voice asked from outside.

Y/n could only roll her eyes when she noticed Tom stepping back inside the meeting room, walking towards them with one hand on his pocket. The air was already thick when it was only the two of them, but it turned suffocating as soon as her ex boyfriend joined them with his full of himself persona.

—You're always interrupting something —Y/n let him know, dropping her hands at both sides of her body.

—How funny she is, huh? —Tom winked at San, addressing him for the first time that morning— You must be the lucky one who stole her from me, right?

San's back instantly straightened at the choice of words, eating up the words that were willing to come out his mouth, before Tom let out a mischievous chuckle.

—I'm kidding, I'm kidding —Y/n went back to turning her eyes blank—. But you're indeed the new boyfriend, right?

—Yes —San answered without a doubt, puffing his chest while he kept a serious glance.

—Tom, what do you want? —her eyes squinted while trying to find out what he was doing there.

—Nothing —he shrugged—. I left my phone here, I just came to pick it up.

Y/n and San exchanged looks while Tom walked past them to pick up the phone he had left at the table behind her seat, moving next to them again to head to the door.

—Oh, by the way, I'm glad to see you're back —he mumbled, turning to her with a smirk—. Hope you're feeling better.

Her head was slightly tilted after hearing those words from him, feeling her knees go weak and her blood pressure falling at a vertiginous speed.

What exactly did Tom know? And why would he say those things to her if it weren't for the fact that he knew she was hospitalized?

—There was no other company you could work on this project with?

—I didn't even know we had this project going on —she sighed—. I learnt about it today. Besides —she finally turned to him—, this is real life and your job, you work with whom is convenient. And I didn't know he'd be the one taking the lead on this. Although I'm not sure who's worse, him or his father...

—I'm just saying I don't like him at all —he stated clearly, earning a scoff from her—. What's so funny?

—And you think I do? If I didn't have enough with recovering, and dealing with my father and his overprotection, now I have to deal with this —she sighed.

While her eyes were closed, and her fingers were pinching the bridge of her nose, San's fingers reached out for the exposed skin on the circle cleavage of her blouse, stroking her soft skin while the vibration of her soft groan tickled on his fingertips.

—How are you feeling? It's been four days...

—I'm okay —she sighed.

The small advance he thought he was making disappeared in front of him when she moved her shoulder away, breaking the contact.

—How long will we be like this? —he rushed to ask.

It was the first time he felt uneasy, waiting for a text that he wasn't sure would come. His heart dropped with every notification, after learning neither were from her. And now she was setting a physical barrier between them, avoiding his touch and his gaze while stuttering without saying a word.

—I need some time —she whispered—. I need to focus on my job, on my health.

And how problems kept piling up on her back.

The last thing she wanted was being so selfish to drag him into that, without being sure she'd be able to fully commit to the relationship.

—I'm not sure I'll be able to dedicate the attention that you deserve.

—You've been giving me more attention than I could ever think of. It's enough, I promise, Y/n. Don't worry about me.

Her eyes were a reflection of the shock she felt from hearing those words. She was breaking a little more with each sound coming from him, with each feature breaking with her silence.

—It won't work out like this —she assured him.

—I'm willing to risk it. I don't care. Go days without texting me, keep some space if you need, but don't tell me this is over. I told you I was going to be there for you, and I meant it. You can't do this to us.

—Don't make it more difficult —she begged, moving her eyes away from him when she felt them watering.

—You're the only one making it difficult —he let her know—. I want to make it work, I want to be there for you, but you clearly don't even want to try.

Her silence felt heavy, giving him all the answers he needed with one simple action that was breaking him into pieces. If she had continued with the conversation, he could've seen a little hope through her words and tone, he would've seen the chance to reach an agreement, but with her silence everything was more than settled.

His lips were pressed against one another, his head nodding while accepting the sad reality, before he finally chose to give her what she wanted. His walk was determined on the outside, but hesitant on the inside. Just one sound from her and he was going to be walking back on his tracks faster than he ever did. But his heart only sank deeper in his chest when the prolonged silence only invited him to go on on his walk.

The rest of the morning was exhausting, with both of them trying to recharge as much energy as possible, eating up all of their feelings, while preparing to face each other again on the next meeting held only on the evolution of the scholars in general after the first month. His side of the company was chill and quiet about the distance, while her father and the few people on her team, who sat with them for lunch, were quite aware of the sudden change in dynamics. With gossip only being cut off by Harry's death glares.

Y/n sat at the head of the conference table, flipping through the evaluation reports one last time before the meeting began. The room slowly filled with department heads, supervisors, and a few board members. But her focus kept drifting to the empty seat near the back -the one that San would soon occupy. She wasn't ready to confront him after the conversation they had.

The meeting was easy: assessing the scholars' progress after their first month. Normally, this would be a routine check-in, but given the emotional baggage between her and San, it felt like anything but normal. The reports were positive, reflecting the hard work and potential of the scholarship recipients. She hoped the meeting would go smoothly, without personal tensions seeping in.

The door opened, and San walked in, immediately catching her eye. His expression was cool, unreadable, as he nodded briefly in her direction and took his seat. There was no trace of the warmth they once shared, only a professional detachment that made Y/n's heart sink. She quickly looked away, determined to stay focused on the task at hand.

—Thank you all for your time. I know you'll get sick of seeing me today —she joked—. We’re here to discuss the progress of our scholarship recipients after their first month. Overall, the reports indicate strong performances, with a few areas for improvement that we’ll address today.

She clicked the remote, and the first slide appeared on the screen, showing a summary of the scholars' achievements so far. As she walked the team through the data, she could feel San's gaze on her, but she didn’t dare meet his eyes. Not yet.

She highlighted key successes -two scholars had already made significant contributions to ongoing projects, and another had shown exceptional leadership potential. The room murmured in approval, and Y/n allowed herself a small moment of satisfaction when she saw San's name among the top of those successes.

But then, it was time to discuss the challenges. One scholar, in particular, had struggled to adapt to the company’s pace. Y/n introduced the topic delicately, knowing it would require careful handling.

—One area of concern is some people's integration into the team —she mumbled, keeping her eyes on the general data not to point on anyone in particular—. While you've shown promise, the adjustment has been slower than expected. It's important to let you all know that, in case you need more support, you should tell your mentors with no hesitation.

She waited for the feedback from the team, expecting constructive suggestions. But instead, it was San who spoke up first, his tone sharp and pointed.

—Y/n, have we considered that this might be more than just an adjustment issue? There's barely been any involvement from the company in guiding us.

The words landed like a punch, and Y/n felt the room shift. His critique was harsh -more so than necessary. It felt like an attack, not just on the company, but on her judgment as well. She forced herself to stay calm, even though inside she could feel the sting of his words.

—I understand your concerns, San, but I believe in giving our scholars the support they need to succeed. Maybe you haven't felt that guidance because you've had other issues going on with your scholarship —she replied, addressing the issue with Mia.

San didn’t back down. He met her gaze with a cool, steady look, and the tension between them was palpable.

—And whose fault is that? Besides, guidance shouldn't only rely on mentors. At the end of the day, they're employees just like us. We should be more connected to those on top of us, yet I've seen nothing from them.

His words cut deeper than they should have. Y/n knew that his critique wasn’t just about the scholarship -it was about them. She could hear the underlying frustration in his voice, the unresolved anger from their personal issues bleeding into their professional interaction. But this wasn’t the place for that.

—I agree that we should've been more present and approachable. We can’t expect everyone to be perfect from day one. That’s why we’re here -to help you and us to grow.

The room was silent, the tension thick. Y/n could feel the eyes of her colleagues on them, sensing the personal undertones in their exchange. This wasn’t just a disagreement about a scholarship; it was a reflection of the larger rift between them.

One of the other managers cleared his throat, attempting to steer the conversation back to neutral ground, but the damage had already been done. The chill in the room was undeniable.

—Perhaps we can set up a more intensive mentoring program for those who need it, and hold these types of meetings more regularly —one of the managers suggested.

Y/n nodded, grateful for the intervention, but the moment between her and San lingered, unresolved. The rest of the meeting passed in a blur of discussions and decisions, but Y/n's focus kept slipping. Every word from San felt like a reminder of the distance between them, a reminder of how things were going to be between them.

As the meeting drew to a close, Y/n wrapped things up, her professional mask firmly in place.

—Thank you, everyone. Let’s implement these strategies and reconvene next week to review progress. If anyone has additional thoughts, feel free to reach out to me directly.

The team began to gather their notes and file out of the room. Y/n stayed behind, needing a moment to collect herself. She focused on organizing her papers, trying to push away the frustration and hurt that threatened to spill over.

But she felt San's presence before she saw him. He lingered near the door, hesitating before he finally spoke.

She looked up at him, her heart aching at the sight of the man she once trusted implicitly, now standing on the other side of an invisible wall. There was a flicker of regret crossing his face with an intent to approach her again, but the distance between them remained. But before neither of them could speak, Harry showed up, pointing at San to go back inside and his daughter to stay exactly where she was.

—Did anything happen between you two? —Harry interrogated, alternating his eyes between the two of them.

—N... no —Y/n slowly shook her head—. Why?

He could easily read through the weak tone on his daughter's voice, and the expression on San's face while he looked down.

It was more than obvious something did happen.

—I got the impression you were going to throw things at each other's heads at any moment —her father answered, hands on his hips—. Same with the looks you're giving each other. I don't care what's going on, but I don't want people talking about it. You're in a position of responsibility —he aimed at his daughter—, and you're in an area where people don't know about your relationship. I don't want speculation, and I don't want any discomfort in the company. So if you have any problems, eat them up and solve them out of this building. Am I clear?

—Yes —Y/n nodded.

He was right. It was the first day of that break, and they were already pulling out scenes and making the environment difficult for those around them. That wasn't the place to behave like that. Not with everything they had going on.

His father stepped out first, dedicating one last warning look at the couple that kept avoiding to look at each other.

His lips moved, with an apology ghosting his lips while he nervously looked at her while she twisted her jaw. But no words came out. Y/n picked up her things again and walked away before he could even make a sound.

Taglist: @brown88

15 notes · View notes

theoneofwhomisblue · 1 year

Text

Maybe following 3,000 people isn't great

Because I fucking hate scrolling through this fucking site now

I'm not even joking, I fucking hate this shit

This site sucks ass

Also if this post has less than 10 notes in 3 hours I'm deleting it

I know this is completely my fault. I also don't give a fuck

I'm too tired to curate my page to be decent for me

I'm so fucking tired

This site sucks ass

Reddit sucks ass

Tumblr sucks ass

The Internet fucking sucks

Google is constantly bitching at me to pay for more space in my account cause I habitually download every Tumblr and reddit image resulting in 13 gigabytes of bullshit

I fucking hate this

Anyway

I'll find better stuff to post tomorrow

Or not

I don't know

I'm so fucking tired

Kill myself

What the fuck do I do with my time now? Is there another site or app worth my time?

Tumblr's ass, I'll still use it but it's dogshit

I'm too tired to even do reddit anymore

Twitter is fucking disgusting and gets worse by the day because of dipshit mcmusk

And that's all that comes to mind

YouTube is constant background noise, but the algorithm there is fucked up too

I hate every video thats recommended to me

I'm not doing fucking tiktok

I don't care about my standards anywhere else, but no fucking tiktok

What else is there now?

Oh yeah, I can't comment on webtoon because I accidentally said fuck in a comment, so all the fun community stuff there is gone now too

All the webtoons suck ass anyway

The only fucking app that hasn't disappointed me is cookie clicker

Been playing it for like 400 days

I make continual progress

I just check in every two days to pop the wrinklers

Then after a month or two on a run I check in after a week

Until my legacy points start to plateau, then I reset

And get all the upgrades I can afford

Buy 5 grandmas, then 90 more, then as many more as I can afford that'd a multiple of 100

I do the same on everything else

Except the fractile engines, which I buy as many as possible, no matter the multiple

And buy all the items

Then at that point I start the research facilities, then start one, and check back in 30 minutes until I've researched them all

Then I top off the fractile engines and leave for a day

Then check every day, popping the wrinklers until a week in, then every 2 days. Then after a few months once every week

Then I do it all again

And spend all the legacy points on the upgrades I can afford

It's rewarding you know

Consistent anyway

Unlike reddit and Tumblr and Twitter and YouTube and everything else, it doesn't fuck me over on the algorithm whatever the fuck

Reddits decent for the porn, that's all

You know, I used to use a lot of sites for porn

Dozens and dozens of sites bookmarked

Then at some point I started to only use r34 reddit nhentai, and occasionally the good ol hub

I didn't use to have accounts, I'd depend on my memory for different images and accounts and artists and comics and shit

Then I made accounts on r34 phub reddit e6 gelb nhentai and half a dozen others

And started saving things

It used to be a fun game to try to remember

Now it's gone

But I'm too tired to continue that anyway

Anyway, same shit everything else as with the porn at this point

No variety

Nothing fun

It's all annoying bullshit

With the Advent of machine learning chat bot whatever the fucks, there's a little bit new

But aside from that, it's just the same thing every day

I'm so fucking tired of living like this duxe

The fucking internet used to mean something

Now it's just the boring status quo bullshit

And I know that it's because of me

But still

It fucking sucks

I don't want to do this shit

And I spend like 10 hours a day on the Internet too

More than ever

But I'm not happy

Barely entertained

But it kills time

If I need information, porn, music, videos, whatever elze

Entertainment

I get it

But I'm not happy about it

It's shitty

I feel like shit

Like, my life outside the internet is decent. But the Internet consumes so much of it, and I don't even like it anymore

I don't know if there's a fix

Or if I should just stop being so online and shit

I'm too tired to do anything anyway

I don't know

I take pride in what I achieve for some reason

But as soon as I get the imaginary goal point, I don't give a shit

Over a year I got a shit ton of reddit karma on a new accoutn

A specific number, that I won't say to keep myself from seeming like I'm trying to brag

But once I got it, I no longer cared to comment or post

Over 2 or 3 months, I don't remember, whenever 196 shut down, I got a relative shit ton of followers

Again, a specific number, but I won't say

I'll keep that number secret, cause I can

But once I got this imaginary amount that I thought I'd never reach, I didn't care anymore

I still posted as much as I did before

But I got no joy out of it

I just post, wait a few hours, then check to see how many notes

If it's an amount equal to what I think is average for the amount of followers I have, I feel kinda good, then post again

But that's it

I don't scroll anymore, except occasionally on my followers profiles when I accidentally click on them while looking through my new notes

And I enjoy that

But other than those fleeting moments, and the small satisfaction I get from high note counts I don't care

I don't care for Tumblr or anything else on this shit

I don't know man, is this how other people do stuff on the Internet?

I don't think so, people always have strong emotions on the Internet

I emulate my internet behavior to match, which makes me think that maybe more people do the same as me

But I have no evidence

I don't know, I'm too fucking tired of this shit

I just got an apathy about the Internet at this point

Apps, sites, everything

I just don't care

But I'm always on it

It makes no sense

I should probably proofread this post as I go

This is just a stream of consciousness at this point

I won't check it as I go

Maybe I'll make this a thing

Just typing my unfiltered thoughts for like 30 minutes then posting

Depends on the notes I get

If the notes are bad I'll just delete it and forget about it

Who knows

I guess I keep trying to do that

I'll do something new on Tumblr like this

And think "oh, maybe this'll be a new thing I do" then it dies

At first it was my consistent posting of reddit shit for like a year ago

Then I stopped posting that consistently

Then it was random screenshots of mine

I even made a tag for that one

Then it died

I keep thinking of myself as someone important because of my follower count

Which doesn't make sense as it's not even a lot

But still

I don't know

My delusions of microcelebrity status are the only thing keeping me on this site/app at this point

If I didn't have that, and the fuel for the delusion that is notes I'd be gone

I did already fuck my recommended tab

And following tab

And tag tab

It's already all bullshit

I guess I can keep my narcissism about my status in this site because of the top post by notes tab on a blog

I just click into someones

And 9 times out of ten, they don't have top note counts even comparable to time

Which fuels the delusion

It's the same thing I'd do on reddit

"oh this person only has [x] karma, when they've been on reddit for 3 years. And I have triple that, and I've had this account for 6 months. I'm better"

Shit like this is what makes the internet garbage

I don't let it bleed into the theme of my posts and comments tho

I let it make me feel superior than everyone else

But if I made that obvious in any post it'd be for naught

For that reason I'm considering not posting this anymore

Whatever, this post is already super long rambling bullshit

If it gets good notes a single anecdote in it won't matter

And if it doesn't get good notes I'll delete it

Then there's no harm

I just thought of that reasoning now to keep doing this post

Cause I got sunk cost fallacy on this at this point

It was a vent thing at the start

Now it's just me trying to think mildly interesting shit to add

I guess I can use that other reasoning to post anything

If it goes bad, delete it, and no one would have saw it, and no one will, so I matters naught

And if it goes good, who gives a shit

Nothing I post would be bad, maybe cringe, maybe rambling bullshit, as this js

But not bad, so it'd be fine

I lost my train of thought

I think I was gonna say something else about what I'm posting, and how it would be fine

That's gone now

Poof, into the abyss that is lost thoughts

This does kill time tho

It's been like 40 minutes since I started this

This is basically what I do in my mind if I just let my mind run, uninterrupted

But here it's written down, with line breaks, and exact words rather than a mix of words and images and concepts

So it's more digestible

I suppose it's not completely true to say this is my pure train of thought, not just because of the exclusion of images and concepts

But also because I'm listening to music

Just enough to mild my mind so to speak

My mind is always going man, and if I don't have something to dampen it

Like music, or weird fidgety things I do with my hands (I don't know the word), or exact things to focus on, I think way too much

And spiral and shit in stress

But then my thoughts are too frantic and fast to write down before they disappear, so in a way this is as pure a log of thoughts as anything could be

You can tell the theme of how I sound now, vs at the beginning

If you don't want to scroll up you can just look at the tags

I typed them near the beginning

And haven't added to them

Nor deleted them

So you can just look slightly down to see the notes

It's not even the right topic anymore. It's still on reddit

And Tumblr and internet shit

Oh yeah, speaking of

I've just said my Tumblr scrolling is bad without specifying

But to specify now, it's like scrolling through Twitter

Weird serious discourses

Arguments

Peculiar topics

Shit like that

You know, not the Tumblr I had before

And if I don't like scrolling through Twitter, why would I be here? And that's the bind I'm in now

I only stick around anymore because of the notes, as I said

I'm back to using punctuation occasionally

Not too much, but at least some commas

No periods though, they seem too intense for a stream of consciousness thinf

Question marks too, but that's about all

Oh yeah, stuff I was talking about before

Webtoon

I shit talked webtoon

It's not too bad

I just fucking hate slice of life shit, dumb "funny" shit, and worst of all romance

I fucking hate romance webtoons

I can't stomach them

And webtoon is constantly shoving exactly those down your throat

And when my tolerance is low to begin with, and I enter webtoon, and it throws a fucking popup in my face for a dogshit new romance thing, I damn near snap my phone in half

But it's not too bad

I just read the fantasy/action/thriller/horror/drama (ones without romance shit) ones

But I can't navigate the canvas section decent at all

By design obviously, canvas doesn't make webtoon money, the originals do

But I'm too tired to work against them

So I only read originals

But at least they post regularly

I read around 70 webtoons now

Which is to say, I read the new episodes of them when they come out

With such a large selection, I have like 4 webtoons minimum updating every day at 7:00 pm

8:00 when there's time change

But 7:00 most of the timr

It notifies you at 7:30 but they update at 7:00

Except for the goblin one, which updates at like 7:20 for some reason

And the daily pass ones, those update at 8:00 for some reason

But they notify you directly at 8:00 for those if I remember correctly

Even still

I remember roughly which days are best

Tuesdays have the most, like 15 updated at once

And ones I really like too

Fridays have a handful, and the one daily pass that I read as they come out week by week

Saturdays have like 4 I really care about, then like 5 I think are mediocre, but they kill time so Saturdays are good

Mondays are ok, but that's about it

Wednesdays are kinda ass, but they're decent

Thursdays used to be amazing, but after like 3 I really care about went on hiatus, Thursdays don't matter anymore

But having like 60 (because 5-10 are on hiatus at a time) new episodes a week, divied up across the week pretty well

Is nice

Now, I did accidentally say fuck in a comment, because there was a guy shipping children and saying sexual stuff about it, then there was a reply on it from another guy defending it. So I got mad, and typed a paragraph saying why that was fucked up

But I said fuck

So I can't comment anymore

I don't know, webtoons ok tho

I was just pissed off earlier

What else was there

Oh yeah reddit

I've actually been temp banned from Reddit (like my entire account) twice for using up too much server space on bullshit

There's this thing where you type u/profanitycounter [self] and it tells you how many times youve said certain swears in like the past 500 comments

So, for a joke, twice I've copy pasted "cum cum cum cum cum cum cum cum...", The max amount of times you can in one comment (a few thousand, I can't remember), then do that in a comment chain with myself for like 150 comments in a row

And it takes me several hours, but it's funnt

But it resulted in a temp ban for 2 days

Then like 4 months later, a temp ban for a week

Cause I used too much space, or bandwidth or whatever the fuck doing that

Also I got banned from r/Barry for saying the last season was ass

And I got banned from r/notinteresting for a reason I don't fucking know

But aside from that, my accounts clean

With a shit ton of karma too

Oh yeah, I use the same username (or a derivative of it) for every porn site account I make.

If you can find it out somehow I'll give you the passwords to the accounts

I doubt anyone could, it's a different username than I use for anything else

But there's hints

If anyone cares I'll even give you a few more hints directly in a DM if you ask

Though I will be vague as fuck

Been doing this for over an hour now

I wasn't paying enough attention to when I started

I'm pretty sure I heard someone say that Tumblr has no character cap

Let's hope so

I'm too tired to continue this shit

I guess this ends it

Let me know if y'all want more bullshit like this

I, personally, always like an unfiltered look at someone mind

But that's me personally

Maybe my mind is bland and uninteresting

Who knows

I'll stick with what I said at the beginning tho

Less than 10 notes in 3 hours and this post going bye bye

I got a headache from this shit

I thought way more than I usually do

Now that I'm more chill, I don't hate tumblr

I fucked it up for me

But y'all are good

Tumblr's good

#196 #fucking kill myself #i left reddit for this shit #and now I hate both #i lost what i had for scrolling and finding semi entertaining content #i fucking hate this #new tag in case this becomes regular; and if I remember to use it →#continuous thoughts

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schrijverr · 1 year

Text

Holly's Letter

Years after she last saw her brother and sister, Holly sees the book A Collection of Queer Photography in the stores. It gives her the courage to reach out to them again. This is her letter.

On AO3.

Ships: byler & jargancy, Holly has a husband

Warnings: mentions of past homophobia (vaguely)

~~~~~~~~

Dear Nancy and Mike,

I have started this letter a hundred times already now, because I have so much to tell you and yet I don’t know what to say to you at all. It feels odd to introduce myself, but I almost feel like I have to, since I haven’t seen either of you since I was 9 years old. So, hi, I’m Holly, your little sister. My last name is Richardson now and I am married with two kids.

I am writing you both after reading your book. I try to keep an eye out for such things ever since my eldest, Lisa, came out to me, and I hope you can imagine the shock of seeing your faces after so many years. There, right on the cover, were the two of you, just like I remember from my childhood. Thinking back, I must have stood in that book shop for 30 minutes just staring, before a sales associate asked me if I needed any help. Of course I bought the book.

When I came home, I read it completely and I cried. Truly, I did. It is a weird feeling and I hope I can explain it right. It is weird, because you two left and never turned back and I hated you for a long time over it and now I had answers. Suddenly I knew why you left. And it makes so much sense that you would go and while I am angry and sad at how you left, I am so so glad that you two are happy now. That you found a better family.

Mom and dad divorced in in 1991. They tried to keep it together for my sake, but my mom blamed him for you two leaving and dad- well, dad was just dad. It didn’t work out. I lived with mom and barely talk to dad anymore. It seemed like life fell apart when you two left.

Before now, I never put work into finding either of you. The lack of the internet made it harder, but it was more that I thought you wouldn’t want me there. Like mom, I blamed myself for you leaving, I didn’t understand. Now I do.

I showed mom the book too, she never gave it back, so I bought another copy for myself. I think she has spend days already flipping through the pages and lingering on your faces. I can’t say I blame her, me and my eldest have gone through it together and I told her about her aunt and uncle. All the little things I can still remember from when you still came home. We laughed and we cried and she hugged me. It was a thankful hug and I don’t think I can ever forget it again.

It is probably odd how much I feel like I still relate to you after 28 years, but I do. One of my earliest memories is sitting on the couch with Steve when he was still together with Nancy. I remember the games Mike and the others played in the basement. I remember the fight when you wanted to spend Christmas with the Byers. Little flashes of you, before you were just ghosts haunting family albums and strained conversations with mom or dad.

But it is more than that for me. I never realized how much I am still intertwined with you, even throughout these years without contact. Like, I never realized that the Will Byers, who made my favorite paintings, is the same Will Byers that my older brother was friends with. And I never realized that the article that got mom better pay in 1993 was written by you, Nancy. As a college student I ate at Argyle’s diner with friends after getting drunk. I still braid my hair like Steve taught me. I voted for Erica without making the connection. I also work in education. My husband loves Corroded Coffin. All these little things have bound me to the family you made and that makes me feel connected to you in ways I haven’t in years.

In your book you said you hoped I was okay and that I grew up kind. I hope I am too. I know I grew up okay, I am happy where I am. And I try to be kind, I try to do better. I don’t know if that is enough, but I’m trying. I would love to meet you and your partners. I’d love to catch up with you and hear about everything, even the small things that didn’t make it into the book. And I’d love to tell you about myself and my family too.

Of course, I can understand if you would not want to see me, or if you would, but you’d like not to talk to mom again. I can stand here and tell you how she has changed, how she accepts her granddaughter and treasures the two of you more than her old bigotry, but I don’t think that is my decision to make. So, I’ll leave that to you.

I do hope that you want to see me, that we can catch up and I can get to know your partners more personally, as well as relearn who you two are now. And I hope I can tell you about my husband, Marvin, who is a lawyer, and our two beautiful kids. I’ve already mentioned Lisa, my eldest. She is fifteen now and so smart. She is part of the debate team at her high school and helps run the GSA. Her favorite subject is Math and I’m glad, because I never know how to help Ellie, my youngest, with her Math homework, so her older sister helps her. Ellie is eleven now, already getting way too big for my comfort haha. She’s a little ball of sunshine, always full of energy and smiles. She loves drawing and is so creative. The two are adorable together.

We live in a suburb in a small town near Indiana. I myself work as a preschool teacher nearby, but I only work part time and spend most time looking after the kids while Marvin is at work. We’ve been married for sixteen years now and still going strong. It was so nice to see you also still together with your partners and happy.

I must admit how odd it was to see you grown up. In my mind you two are still the people from ‘89, a young woman and a kid, who just reached into adulthood. Now both of you are fully fledged professionals with families and a career. Just like me.

I know you haven’t been frozen in time, but it felts like it for so long. It is weird to think that you have lived whole lives, had so many experiences, grown so much, and I wasn’t there to see it. Logically, I know the same must be true for you in regards to me, but I can’t help but let it boggle my mind. But I’m glad I got my mind boggled by you looking so happy.

I honestly don’t know if anything in this letter is making sense. No matter how much time has passed since I first picked up your book, my thoughts can’t seem to order themselves. At least not coherently on a piece of paper. However, I do want to reach out and I hope that I’ll get a reply and it will make it easier to place it all.

I also hope that this letter doesn’t come off as accusatory. I admit that I have been bitter in the past, but I have put that behind me. And I completely understand why you did what you did. I think this book has given me the closure I needed to pack away that last inkling that came from not knowing why. Even if this letter gets lost or I never hear back from you, I want to thank you for that.

Rationally, I know I have a thousand more things to tell you, but I’ve also completely blanked on what to say further. So, I’m just going to wrap it up and send it, before I can think about too much and scrap the whole thing again, like I’ve already done so many times.

Much love and kisses,

Holly Richardson

#rr writing #a collection of queer photography by jonathan byers #holly wheeler #nancy wheeler #mike wheeler #mike wheeler x will byers #argyle x jonathan x nancy #jargancy #byler #stranger things #st post season 4

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peistudies · 2 years

Note

Question for you: how do you go about learning in an efficient way? I want to get a tutor or even find a friend, but I also am super nervous about who I talk to on the internet. Any suggestions?

Hi! Thanks for the ask, it means a lot! This question is gonna take a bit of unpacking.

For me, learning efficiently is all about keeping a consistent routine that utilizes SRS and mnemonics.

My study routine consists of three components:

Reviews. Staying on top of them is important to ensure you're actually memorizing the material rather than just seeing it. I always finish them before learning new content to make sure I'm not overwhelming myself.

A bare minimum daily amount of learning material to make sure I'm making progress

Immersion. Something unique and entertaining to stay motivated (such as watching an anime with Japanese subtitles, reading a graded reader, listening to a podcast or Japanese music, etc.).

Let's focus on the first two.

For both reviewing and learning, consistency is so important. Rather than cramming content all at once, do it in bite sized, manageable pieces more frequently. Sometimes I'll do reviews up to 3 times in a day, taking like 5 minutes each time, which is actually much easier than doing it all at once (which may end up taking 30 minutes simply because my attention span isn't that long).

Consistency is not only effective for reviewing, but for learning as well. This is because the our brains only take in so much information at once. Of course we can hack this a bit with memory devices, but still, lightening the load usually works better if you're trying to memorize something long-term. An example is, rather than cramming 30 words in one sitting and working on them for the next week, learn 5 every day and end up knowing 35 words (and well) by the end of the week. Besides, the less content you learn or review at once, the less intimidating it is, and therefore the less likely it is for you to procrastinate.

Be aware that this is for active study. It's perfectly okay to absorb more content outside of that through immersion!

The study routine I mentioned above would not be possible for me without WaniKani and Bunpro (not to be confused with Bunpo, which is an entirely different app which I heavily dislike because it locks practically everything behind a paywall). I like these two because they have a course already built in, in +1 order, and are designed to be efficient. And, you don't have to waste any time thinking about what you should learn or how you should learn it. I could write a separate post vouching for these two sites honestly, that's how much I like them. I pay the 5 dollars a month for each of them, but Bunpro offers everything except SRS for free, and WaniKani offers up to the 3rd level for free, which I highly recommend you try.

Another honorable mention is Anki. It's definitely a far more versatile flashcard system because you can make your own decks and download shared decks. There's a lot of amazing decks for Japanese, such as the Tango decks, which teach you grammar and vocabulary through example sentences. However there is quite a steep learning curve for it, and the iOS app is 20 bucks. It's free everywhere else though.

As for talking to people, I think it's important to consider what's making you nervous. The answer will help you know how to proceed. If you think it's because your Japanese isn't strong enough yet and you don't want to embarrass yourself, there are two options. Do it anyway, or wait a little bit and then do it anyway. However, the concern with the latter is that the longer you wait, the more your anxiety (and therefore avoidance) may grow. I say, let anonymity be on your side so that there's no serious repercussions if you mess up (not that there would be anyway), and just throw yourself in a call, despite your fear. Remember to be kind to yourself and stay positive. Mistakes are okay!

If your fear is simply people being creepy, then still use anonymity, and possibly try group settings, such as discord learning server, or paid tutors, such as on iTalki or Cambly. I recommend those because being in a group setting may help take some of the pressure off, and a professional tutor doesn't want to get low ratings and is far less likely to make you feel uncomfortable in any way. I'd avoid HelloTalk and Tandem unless you don't mind disguising your profile (otherwise you'll be blocking a few creeps here and there).

If you're interested in joining a server, please don't hesitate to give this one a try!

Here's my current minimum daily routine: Finish all reviews on Bunpro Finish all reviews on WaniKani Learn +2 grammar points on Bunpro Learn new lessons on WaniKani (it's okay if I don't finish them all at once, just like a bare minimum of 10 lessons). Learn +15 words on Bunpro Vocabulary (Currently in Beta) - so far I don't recommend this, Anki would most likely work better for vocabulary.

If you're still lost, please don't hesitate to ask a followup question and/or consider reading this article!

#Japanese grammar #Japanese N4 grammar #N4 grammar #intermediate japanese #beginner japanese #review japanese #review japanese grammar #langblr #studyblr #japanese langblr #japanese studyblr #study japanese #learn japanese #bunpro #peistudies #nihongo

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tackyink · 10 months

Text

Convention haul! There wasn't barely any BG3 merch and the only thing I was interested in was gone before I found the artist's table. Still, my poor wallet...

First is the last volume of a very cute fanzine I've been reading for years, two Ace Attorney prints and a DS charm with the least heterosexual lawyers ever, all by the Wonderpun folks, Paula and Diego, who I barely see once a year for five minutes but are really lovely and funny people. They are exquisite pun artists and regale us with fanzines solely dedicated to them, not to mention the constant stream Diego posts on Twitter. They also make assorted merch for Pokémon, Ace Attorney, Yakuza, Resident Evil... There's a ton, check them out yourselves. Here's their online shop. All the JJK stuff is from an artist that didn't include any kind of business card and now I can't send you to his social media. OTL The print and Geto charm are for a friend.

As if this were exonerating at all, I feel I should stress that the fanzine and all its extras were already paid for because I joined the crowdfunding campaign this summer.

I also picked up a cheap set of dice and Fire Emblem cipher cards because you know, it's been a long time since I spent any real money at a convention. Prices are inflated, you can buy everything off the internet nowadays, and I had left the Artist Alley pretty unscathed, so I knew I wasn't going to spend much more.

Then I found a retro videogames stand with Japanese imports. They had Vita games. Japanese otome Vita games.

THEY HAD THE ONE HAKOUKI GAME I'VE WANTED TO GET FOR 10 YEARS WHAT THE HELL

They also had Amnesia World for the same price and I thought about going back for it if I didn't spend a lot the following three days.

One shop had a bunch of YYH figures, including two I'd never seen of Hiei and Kurama that put together replicate the cover page of the Two Shots chapter, and sent a video to a friend who's a huge Hiei fan but couldn't make it to the con to ask if I should get it for her. She took three days to make a decision. More on this later.

After this, we found a place that sold vintage haori and I kind of fell in love at first sight with one. The sign said they were 30€ and up, but I have a vintage silk haori with some damage on the sleeves and that one was already 50€. I'd never seen one in good condition for less than 60€. Knowing that the price would be way out my budget, I asked anyway.

It was just 30€.

Excuse the shitty picture, but !!!! Those cranes!!! The lining!!!!!

And remember the lady who ran out of her stand to do my hair? This below was the result. 10/10 marketing tactic.

At this point I'm repeating over and over inside my head "This is fine" like the dog from the meme. I'm getting extra pay this month, no harm done, it's not like I spend money the rest of the year. This is it, I've already seen the entire venue, I'm immune to temptation, I'm probably not getting that second game. <-this is not foreshadowing

Before calling it a day, I asked my friends to try and find again the retro games shop to remember exactly where it was in case I wanted to go back, because the next days were going to be much busier and it's always difficult to move with so many people.

Turns out on the way there there was another import shop I had glossed over because it sold mostly trading cards and CDs, but I went to look at the table anyway because haha what's the harm you already know where this is going. (⊙x⊙;)

The harm was basically half the recent group discography of Quartet Night. ಥ_ಥ They were pretty cheap, but I painted over the price because I'm still embarrassed and pissed, why the hell did I have to look. I am now the not so proud owner of the Quartet Night single where they dressed the idols as bullfighters without shirts and I can't even be angry about it because the song was good. Look at this. The second hand embarrassment is killing me. Anyway! Not getting the game for sure.

The next two days passed without any further damages to my wallet, which were admittedly quickly forgotten as soon as I got tackled by the girl I totally don't have a crush on when she saw me dressed as Hancock and whose dinner I paid for only because she treated us to a lot of places when we visited her city this summer. That night, before the last day, I had to insist to my home-bound friend to make up her mind already because I couldn't be glued to the phone while wearing cosplay, pushing a wheelchair and socializing with people I only see twice a year.

I'd decided the first day I'd get the Kurama figure only if she told me to get her a Hiei as well. She sent me a text past 12 AM saying she wanted it. In the morning I receive a message from the friends I was arriving to the venue with every day saying that after three days they cannot fucking move and are tapped out. I cannot fucking move either because Hancock's shoes destroyed my feet, but I go anyway, as soon as I can, because I'm a woman on a mission to retrieve a friend's husbando.

I went straight to the shop before joining up with anybody else and the Hiei figure was gone from the display case, along with another Hiei, the only Kuwabara and one Kurama. Mission failed. I asked one of the sellers about the Kurama one and she told me all except the one on display were sold out, so there was no box, and it was for the best because I was able to store him inside my bag. Here he is. I'm jealous of his sweater.

After that, I joined my totally-not-a-crush for the rest of the morning and went to a panel where they gave us a bit of sake and Kobe beef while we waited for our other friends. The rest of the day went well, we saw a lot of people and said goodbye to everyone, and instead of going to the Korean BBQ place we had planned, the remaining four of us moved the dinner to the sandwich/pizza/crepe place across the street from our incapacitated friends.

I am now taking a vow of poverty until April.

#dressrosa blogging

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globofchaos · 1 year

Text

Shelter chapter 1&2

Plot

Karl sets out to find the truth about his crazy uncle Beethoven . It was never his intention to gain a new best friend. One that will watch over him when he is gone ...

Chapter 1

Late at night around 3 am In the Vienna realm a young man name Karl van Beethoven poured a cup of coffee while on his laptop. His eyes were incredibly exhausted after the long day sheepishly writing on a note pad with red ink . Karl slowly started growing more tired as he drank the bitter drink . A massive lightning bolt struck , causing Karl to snap out of his sleepiness. The Viennese eyes were sunken purple from the lack of sleep . "How does my uncle ..do all of this …" he questioned to himself. Earlier that week his uncle Ludwig van Beethoven was behind on his composing because of a "realm tour " he was going to . Karl, being the "favorite nephew " decides to help his uncle out in the hopes of getting expensive gifts in the future and more music equipment. The work was more than he bargained for but he needed to gain favors. Lightning struck again this time ringing in Karl's ears , "Aaaahhh i NEED to sleep" he screamed . The lights started randomly flicking around the tenant prompting him to worry slightly. He turned the light switch off and started making another cup of coffee, this time pouring an entire bag of sugar and heavy cream in the pot ."I have to stay away for as long as possible " Karl told himself, drinking it straight from the pot .

"Hahaha how are you tired when it's only 3 in the morning "a cruel voice laughed at him . Karl's eyes turned into the size as pin pricks quickly grabbed a black pan . "Zeigen Sie sich als Eindringling! " he shouted blindly swinging the weapon "Ich kann auch Deutsch sprechen " the voice replied, turning on the light revealing to be no one other than Nikolas Tesla. "Actually I can speak acht so do you wanna speak German or Valhalla ? " Tesla asked while doing his nails . "Well smart ass that's nothing impressive Mozart can speak fünfzehn ! " Karl bragged " Is Mozart in the room with us right now ? " Tesla looked around . "Yet again that's what happens when your dorky uncle has friends that are from Poland, France, Germany and of course Vienna…" Karl paused " Wait a minute ..why the fuck am I explaining any of this to you GET OUT " . "Hold on, I'm looking for your uncle Ludwig, I wanna perform an experiment and Hrist isn't telling me anything ! I swear Ludwig is brainwashing her " Tesla felt worried. "I don't care ! Get lost , Geh weg, bousculer, non è il mio problema , Ite invadendi domum alienam ! " Karl pushed Tesla out " If I see you again I'm calling Hrist byeeeeee " , "But my - " Karl slammed the door on Tesla locking it . The moment the man turned around Tesla was right next to him . Karl started swinging the frying pan like mad , "Hold on I don't mean to be a threat " Tesla easily dodged Karl swings. "What do you want, man? I'm too tired for this bullshit " Karl rubbed his eyes .

"Why are you so tired god I barely know " Tesla smiled, " I have a lot of files to organize because my uncle is an old man who doesn't understand the internet beyond liking Hrist's group human photos and making the corniest pick up lines ever…plus that secret file of a certain goddess "selfies '' I accidentally found . '' Karl turned a light shade of green . "Selfies !? You mean those awkward ones where Hrist covered her face in a mask and was cringe, " Tesla recalled. "No …not those '' Karl grew light headed. " I could help organize those files …for a price …" Tesla stated, " I have no money " Karl mentioned. "No something worth more than money…" Tesla laughed "knowledge ! ". "What are you talking about…" Karl whined , " Being a nurse, have you ever wanted to make the world a better place ? " Tesla pointed out. "No, I could barely do surgery on my uncle without him complaining every 30 seconds that I'm doing it wrong " Karl rolled his eyes . "Did you give him any anesthesia ? " Tesla wondered. " Wait, I thought that was for humans …" Karl stopped for a moment to think "Uncle has a high pain tolerance….he wasn't even in pain just bored " . "Hmm I remember Hlokk doing open Intestine surgery on Edison…yelling at him for taking her twin to an illegal fighting ring " Tesla recalled. "I don't know who either are, " Karl groaned.

"The point is you are changing humanity for the better ! Tesla pointed out . " Do I look like I give a damn about humanity ? " Karl started pushing him out "I'd say goodbye but there is no good in goodbye with you ! " he slammed the door shut . "But you are helping a noble cause " Tesla was right behind him again . Nickolas was basically a salesman that just wouldn't go away . Karl turned around quietly grabbing a rubber chicken then cracking his knuckles . Before Tesla could speak Karl tackled him resulting in a massive fight full of angry German swearing . After a few minutes Karl opened the door . "I'm glad we had a talk ! Just remember no more random visits at three in the morning.."Karl stated . "Noted " Tesla had a rubber chicken wrapped around him clumsy walking away.

He slammed the door rubbing his eyes with a loud sigh. He made another pot full of coffee, pouring another bag full of sugar and cream before drinking it while organizing for his uncle. By the time it was in the morning he was finally finished , Karl stripped most of his clothing off . He slammed himself onto Ludwig's messy bed , "Damn you uncle " Karl hissed barely able to sleep despite working all night on the project . It was probably because of the caffeine style in his system but that didn't deter Karl. He got up going through Ludwig's medicine drawer , "He wouldn't mind right if I borrowed his melatonin right ? " Karl grabbed a bottle of gummy bear sleeping medicine. He shoved a handful in his mouth before putting it ,s fixing the unorganized messy . Finally the medicine did its work making Karl sleepy.

While waiting to fall asleep Karl looked through old photos of Ludwig . They say gods don't age unless they hit their prime and with Louis it's still hard to tell . Ludwig didn't exactly like talking about his childhood or anything like that . All he mentioned was that Karl was just like him . In Fact Everyone said that exact statement. Its gotten to the point were he is nicknamed "Mini Luddy '' from Beethoven close friends . Despite being named after his father Kaspar Anton Karl van Beethoven, people always questioned if Karl was Ludwig's son. Quite naturally his uncle was happy to claim Karl as his own while his biological father seethed with jealousy. Kasper never said anything but Karl could tell so he stayed quiet while Ludwig was oblivious. Now they were rumors of Karl being Ludwig's secret child . Thankfully his uncle denied stating that " If I wanted a son I wouldn't steal my brother's wife ! " and "Karl his my son in spirit " . At least Ludwig finally accepted his sister in laws after he found his girlfriend Hrist. His mother and uncle still don't like each other for gods knows why but they are quiet about it instead of screaming . Karl wondered if Ludwig was secretly jealous because his father and uncle had a wife and he didn't .

" Some things are just better left a mystery " he shook his head . It was getting hard to think because of the medicine making him drowsy. Karl took one last look of his uncle's picture. Ludwig hair was much shorter and raven black instead of wild mane . Despite that he is still recognizable looking every calm and full of life . A few thoughts ran through his head making him more and more tired . "Why...do I care so much ..." Karl questioned, he didn't have time to answer himself as his head plopped on the pillow . A few seconds later Karl fell into a deep sleep , Tesla opened the door sliding himself near Karl . "So you do care about your uncle..." Tesla whispered, grabbing an old photo of Beethoven. The inventor never fully got along with the composer due to their clashing personalities . It wasn't hatred at all, just disdain because Tesla couldn't understand Beethoven's cold judgmental personality and Hrist warm fluffy loving smile .Ludwig just spat too much venom for Nickolas to make an antidote.

How could his darling niece love someone so crude , childish , hot tempered, suspicious god with less manners then a stray dog . Tesla asked Hrist a few times on what she saw in him but Hrist only spoke nothing but good about him . She talks about how romantic and kind he is then showed him the many gifts he gave her. At the end of the day Hrist is a grown woman who is capable of taking care of herself in witch Tesla had learned to accept . Sasaki and Qin seem to have taken a liking to him . Alvtir questions on why Hrist would choose someone "so old" , while the youngest one Ou asked a million questions then demanded both Karl and Beethoven play with him . Simo was fine with Ludwig but stated that " If you break her heart I'll send you into a permanent slumber ". Basically as long as Hrist is happy then that's all that matters . Tesla could easily see how deeply in love she is with him so he let his distaste for him go, replacing it with curiosity. Maybe one day they could get along if he just understood Ludwig more.

Tesla pulled out a smartwatch clicking it on Karl's right wrist. Finally, he plucked a black feather laying it on the watch that turned a bright blue then turned off. Tesla put the photo in Karl's arm . "Until later Mini Luddy " Tesla slowly closed the door allowing the much younger man to sleep …at least for now …

Chapter 2

Karl woke up tasting the leftover coffee from last night , he stretched up his wings back and forth scratching his molted black feathers all over his uncle's bed . This is common for winged gods who don't close their wings before they sleep, something Beethoven always told him or else molting happens . "Hmph ? " Karl noticed a strange watch on his arm. It looked no different from your average smartwatch that you would buy online . It was probably one of the smart watches Beethoven bought for Karl that the youngster wore on and off and probably forgot about. Karl shrugged, deciding instead to clean his feathers off and change the sheets. After that he took the watch off to shower then dress himself. While brushing his teeth he randomly remembered that mad scientist rambling about nonsense he couldn't completely remember. Whatever Tesla was talking about Karl wanted to be gone before he came back . Karl opened a draw back pouch shoving peanut butter cheddar crackers inside of it along with a charger for his bluetooth headphones . He slid the bluetooth headphones over his head while the oversized shades laid comfortably on his horns.

"This should keep me away from him, " Karl smiled at himself. Before he could take another step he still saw the old picture of Ludwig 2nd . Karl took a picture staring at it . It was during a time where people just loved wearing suits and dresses instead of casual clothes . Till this day Karl would often beg his uncle to wear something that isn't a suit especially when he has the hygiene of a "pig in clothing " . Granted Beethoven didn't like being called that but to Karl it was simply the truth . His uncle needed to learn how to wear clean clothes and learn basic table manners . Karl wondered what Beethoven was like thousands of years ago . A part of him was just curious, the otherside told him to fly away . "How long are you going to keep staring at your uncle kiddo ? " a hologram spoke to him . *click *" What the hell do you want ? " Karl turned around pulling out his pocket knife . "Relax kiddo it's just me .." Tesla slid his hologram back to the smart watch . "Grrrr" Karl grabbed the watch, "Woah woah woah ! Would you really break the watch Uncle Ludwig gifted to you ? Tesla teased " I would understand if you did tho you probably pon it for new headphones anyway …"..

Karl wordlessly threw his watch on the bed . He rubbed his hair harshly trying his best not to grab his horns and just scream. "What ..do you want ..' he growled furiously. "Hmm I thought I explained enough yesterday we needed to do an experiment and well you just happened to have the smartwatch to work it out" Tesla mentioned. Angered boiled over Karl's temple , the viennese quickly grabbed a few boxes of cigars, throwing it on his sack . He heard footsteps passing by the door , Tesla creaked the door open revealing his black and blue eyes . "We need ..to talk .." He grinned. "I'm not asking of your intentions again, just get out " Karl spat out . I won't be here for long give me 5 minutes and if I'm not out just call the cops " Tesla shrugged. "I don't think this is about my uncle but go ahead I'm listening " Karl furrowed a brow . "Remember how I told you yesterday that I was looking for Beethoven ? Well that was a lie I was looking for the entire time, in fact I even went as far as borrowing a smartwatch about a week ago to testc Tesla mentioned. "Why ? Do you even know my full name ? Why so I a regular 3,000 year old man Have anything to do with you" Karl crossed his arms. " I want to learn more about Ludwig and dissect his brain and I figured the best way to learn is through his Nephew Karl van Beethoven and what better way to learn than through time travel ! "Tesla jumped up and down

. "Time travel ? " Karl moved his head , "Yes my dear good fellow Time travel ! Something that was only thought up in movies was now possible ! " Tesla clipped the watch back on . "And why should I trust someone I barely know with such a complex and dangerous subject " Karl pointed out the obvious. "Because don't you want to learn more about Ludwig? Where does he come from? His past " Tesla shook his shoulder "Well how it's possible! " . "No .." Karl shook his head " I don't give a damn about my crazy uncle or his stupid plans " . "Lying isn't exactly nice Mini luddy I mean I just saw you stare at his pictures and hug the stuff Tazzy do you clearly miss him just a little " . "That is none of your concern " Karl replied, " Alright but I just saying that its a once in a lifetime event. Why not live a little and have fun ? " Tesla patted his shoulder "Summer is ending this month so ..you know ".

"It must be very lonely in such a stubborn apartment with no friends battling with your schizophrenia and personality disorder every once in a while but I bet you a friend could easily change that " Tesla whispered, "Do it …do it …do it …." Karl heard a great force tell him to just go along with it . At least for now that is to keep his mind out of boredom . " Let's get this over with " Karl sighed , " Great ! I shall make this fun for us ! " . Later Karl and Tesla sat on a park bench, and the gifted scientist showed him how to work the simple device . "Just for a few minutes ?" Karl made it clear that he didn't plan on going on a wild goose chase . "Yes I already set up the time date so everything will go into plan just press the button " Tesla recalled. "Okay .." Karl pressed the button. He immediately felt a red aura around him glowing, "Good luck Karl ! '' Tesla stood back. Karl mentally panicked as a ball engulfed him . Everything around him is changing. He felt a strain pin down on his chest until a sudden force jerked him causing a massive fall onto the middle of the street. Karl laid there for a few minutes his body processing air sickness. He would have vomited if he didn't skip breakfast that very morning . He laid there for the next 15 minutes as if he was going into a deep sleep only to be woken up by someone ruffling through his sack . "How much money do you think he has ?" A teen asked.

" I didn't see any, just a bunch of snacks' ' said another one . "Maybe we could steal it and get guilders from it ..hmmm I wonder how much these ear warmers are worth " the young teen touched Karl headphones. Finally Karl woke up grabbing the teens arm with his clawed hands ``Don't touch my stuff ! " . "Ah ! A god ! " The group ran out of sight, dropping Karl's bag . Then horse clops started ma,making, Karl hear again coming his way . "Sir it's probably not a good idea to lay on the road like that, '' the horse driver warned him . Karl stumbled around trying to find his footing , "What …city am I in ? " he grabbed the book bag. "City ? How do you not know that ? You are in Vienna '' the driver told him ."Right ,..right ,,right ahem can I get a ride? I've seen feeling wonky for the last 45 minutes " Karl explained. "Are you drunk? " The driver asked , "Nope, I can't handle alcohol, which is ironic coming from a guy whose family drinks nothing but wine. In fact if I recall my grandfather or great-grandfather owned a wine company but I can't remember which one though " Karl mentioned. "Okay …you're clearly on drugs " the man thought but didn't say out loud, he let Karl in the cart for a few guilders. "Hmm this place has a lot more horses then i remember…" Karl started recording certain events . "So where do you come from, you seem kinda lost ? " the driver asked . "I'm visiting for my uncle Ludwig van Beethoven " Karl answered " do you know where he is ? " . "Beethoven? " the man rubbed his chin "I think i've heard of that name…" . "Yeah he is a world famous Composer and musician !" Karl mentioned. "That's a funny way of saying trouble maker! all he does is get drunk and start fights at heuriger " the driver huffed . "Do you know which one he might be in ? " Karl questioned putting a cloak over his body .

A while later Karl stood in front of a wine tavern , "Wine ….of course it's wine ..," he opened the door. The strong smell of booze , cigarettes and old cheap perfume made his nose burn. "Geez, what is this place ? It looks like the rotting end of a shit stained train station…" he commented between steps "the tavern i go to looks much better than this …" . Karl's appearance got him unwanted attention so he sat down . He tapped on the table " Hey bartender…bartender " . "What do you want !? " a middle aged man rudely commented . " Do you ..uh ..have any water ? " Karl questioned, "Water ? Does this look like a damn pre k center to you? " the bartender gritted his teeth . "Okay maybe grape juice ? Apple juice ? Root beer ? Lemonade? I can't drink alcohol because of my -" Karl tried to explain but was cut off with the bartender slamming a bottle of orange juice "now get out of my sight " the bartender growled. Karl sat on a table far from the area where he was scolded . He then poured orange juice onto the cup sipping on it . "I hope I see my uncle soon " he sighed in defeat .

#classical composer #ludwig van beethoven #shuumatsu no valkyrie #終末のワルキューレ #classical music #composers #beethoven #fanfic #ao3 fanfic #ao3 writer

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tilbageidanmark · 9 months

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Movies I watched this week (Last week of Year 3!)

4 Fascinating documentaries:

🍿 The Love Of Movies- The Story Of American Film Criticism, a light 2009 documentary about the first 100 years of (mostly print) criticism, from the silent era to the Internet. Narrated in somehow outdated intonation, still it provided interesting background and details to a story I know well, but not completely. 8/10.

🍿 “The only valid censorship of ideas is the right of people not to listen.”

I've never seen the show, so the quality documentary Smothered: The Censorship Struggles of the Smothers Brothers Comedy Hour was all new to me. How a folksy charming comedy show got too edgy for network television at the end of the 60's. Actual victims of cancel culture.

RIP, Tom Smothers, Musician and Scourge of CBS Censors!

🍿 "We had a blast out in the desert. Everybody was getting loaded, and grass was 30 bucks a kilo...”

Let's get lost, a jazzy, impressionistic 1988 riff about my favorite smoky balladeer, trumpeter Chet Baker, made just before he fell to his death from a second story balcony in an Amsterdam hotel. The tortured "Prince of Cool", speedball-addict, James Dean lookalike player whose feminine singing style was one of a kind.

I'd much rather listen to Chet Baker & Bill Evans's 'Legendary Sessions', or any of his other recordings, than this hero-worshiped, free-wheeling Cinéma vérité footage.

But now I want to see 'All the Fine Young Cannibals' which was inspired by Baker's life.

🍿 Agnès Varda's 1968 piece of agitprop, Black Panthers, shot in Oakland during the 'Free Huey' campaign. Worth watching.

🍿

Werner Herzog's stunning masterpiece, Aguirre, the Wrath of God, an unforgiving descent into folly and madness. The plundering conquistadors lost in the jungle and barely navigating rickety rafts on the wild rapids. Heart of Darkness epic at the end of the world.

(Photo Above).

🍿

My masterpiece, a smart Argentinian drama about a lifelong friendship between two older gentlemen, a grumpy painter who doesn't give a shit and his worldly art dealer/manager, who carries him through. 7/10.

🍿

"you're gonna do great"

My 4th of Nicole Holofcener's works, You hurt my feelings. A small, intelligent story about always trying to make people feel better. A writer overhears her husband confessing to her brother-in-law that he hates her new book, even though he always assures her how much he loves it. Pleasant enough, NYC based drama, but eventually only a mild take. With David Gross. 6/10

🍿

The Philadelphia Story, a famous screwball 'Comedy of remarriage', a genre popular in the 1930s and 1940s. It circumvented The Production Code of the day which found stories about divorce too "scandalous". Katharine Hepburn was a socialite named Tracy Lord (No connection...), and she had to choose between three suitors the day before her second wedding. She also has a smart-ass little sister who sings "Lydia, the Tattooed Lady".

More Jimmy Stewart in a new Nerdwriter essay, comparing a scene from 'A shop around the corner' with the same scene at 'You've got mail'.

🍿

Re-watch: Children of Men, a chilling, retro-futuristic dystopian thriller set in totalitarian 2027, which is frighteningly similar to our own late-capitalist, repressive nightmare. Bleak saga of the youngest baby in the world, a world full of hatred, hopelessness, and Abu Ghraib. Only 4 years away... 10/10.

[I was going to follow this up with Shoot ’Em Up, another gritty action movie from same year 2007 and which also starred Clive Owen as a drifter who rescues a newborn from being killed by assassins. But it was so shoddily-made, I lasted exactly 2 minutes...]

🍿

The very first avant-garde film from 1921, Lichtspiel Opus I, made by German experimental filmmaker Walther Ruttmann.

🍿

"Find the seed... Shape the soil... Speed the harvest..."

I'm always looking for an excuse to watch Michael Clayton again. Too bad that this time is because Arthur Edens died (in real life).

The laconic "janitor", after an all night poker game, stops his Benz to look at horses.

One of my all-time favorite thrillers, with a perfect script and tight dialogue. His use of euphemisms, so understated, so deep in the weeds.

If anybody knows a more compact thriller, please let me know.

RIP, Tom Wilkinson, Shiva, the God of Death!

🍿

I didn't get the Chilean magical realist fable The Cow Who Sang a Song Into the Future, by first time director Francisca Alegría. It opens like a dreamy 'Man who fell to earth' symbolism, with a drowned woman emerging from the depths of the river, where she may or may not had committed suicide decades ago. Dead fish float, flock of birds form murmurations, and an estranged family behave strangely in the milk farm of their childhood. There's also a transgender grandchild who bonds with his maybe-dead grandmother, environmental disaster looming, family secrets that remain unexplained, and cows, who may sing into the future. But I didn't understand their song at all.

🍿

Slalom is another debut feature by a new French female director. A young downhill skier adores her trainer who comes to takes advantage of her innocence. It holds 100% on Rotten Tomatoes, but I hated it. I've been developing a low tolerance for stories of mistreatment, exploitation and abuse, or to watch another determined coach being tough with his young trainees. 3/10.

🍿

Alexander Skarsgård [Stellan's son] X 2:

🍿 Skarsgård wrote and directed a short film in 2003, To kill a child, a simple drama about an ordinary man who accidentally kills a child, while driving to the beach.

🍿 2 re-watch: On the Rolling Stone Magazine's list of '10 Best TV Episodes of 2023', the No. 1 was “Connor’s Wedding”, Succession Season 4, Episode 3. And indeed, Roy Logan's off-camera all-too-soon death, and his children's grief and devastation, was incredibly mesmerizing.

Also, “With Open eyes”, the tragic series finale, which encapsulated all the threads from 4 seasons of intrigues and disappointments. From the dinner scene where Skarsgård reeled Tom by “letting him sing for his supper”, to Tom's final coronation in the the SUV, together with Shiv his defeated wife.

🍿

The Newly Remastered Pee-wee’s Playhouse Christmas Special from 1988. A kitschy piece of subversive 'Camp' aimed at 4 year olds as well as closeted gay teenagers. With dozens of celebrity cameos, including Grace Jone, Magic Johnson, Cher & Larry Fishburne, and running gags about fruitcakes. Absurd and mildly fetishistic.

🍿

The Bear is a universally-acclaimed new series about a working class sandwich restaurant in Chicago. As an ex-chef who worked in similarly chaotic environments for nearly a decade, this story was unrealistic in the extreme. There was too much manufactured drama and way too many cooks to accommodate a simple hot dog stand. And the attempts to turn it into an experimental, hi-end Nathan Myhrvold spot were laughable. Lots of name droppings: Noma, Alinea, CIA, and lots of food-porn shots and plate-sets. They even brought Oliver Platt from the 10 times better film 'Chef'. It was written by somebody who obviously never worked as a cook. I somehow watched all of Season 1, but didn't stay for seconds. 3/10.

🍿

Platonic, a new sitcom (without the laugh tracks), taking the 'When Harry met sally' concept, and replacing it with Seth Rogen and Rose Byrne. I could only stay for the Pilot episode. 2/10.

🍿

Throw-back to the "Art project”:

Adora loves to cook.

🍿

(My complete movie list is here)

#movies

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thatonebirdwrites · 10 months

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Words Written: A discussion about Ableism and Disability

Content Note: Discusses ableism and harassment This year I set out with a goal to write 500,000 words. When I hit that goal in the summer, I joked with my Internet friends that I would reach a million by December. I did in fact do that: Legend of Korra Shared Moments story is 913,285 words. Supergirl: Supercorp Endgame is 105,475. Spirit World Vacation is 20,769 words. Is this a romance story is 14,411 words.

If I only go with what I put on AO3, then my total word count this year (as of 12/4/2023) is 1,053,940 words.

However, I have several chapters planned for Shared Moments and Supercorp Endgame (Unraveling Realities) stories, so this word count will probably have at least a few thousand added to it by years end.

How did I do this?

This is a complicated question to answer, and it involves me being real about my very shitty situation. Considering there's a fifty-fifty chance next year could be even worse, I find myself wondering at times how I can keep going.

Yet I try to choose hope, despite the fact that everything I've tried to do these past few years has burned around me.

Writing plays a huge part in how I choose hope.

So here is the reality:

1. I've been ill all year with no job. I survive because of my temporary Long Term Disability benefit. I lost my job November of last year. My illness progressed where the accommodations the job allowed wasn't enough, and they rejected what my doctor and I offered. I'd worked there for five years, had been instrumental in the success of that department, given an award by the head of that department, but my illness destroyed all of that in a few short months. It's a slow progressive illness with no cure.

2. I'm in pain a lot, sometimes to the point of where I can't move much at all. Or the nerve pain makes it so I can't use my hands or concentrate. The schedule my doctor and I worked out is 30 minutes of writing. I then rest for 45 minutes to an hour. I then do another 30 minutes of writing. I rest for 45 minutes to an hour. If I use this schedule, I can get about four or so hours of writing. But it uses up the ENTIRE day. Meaning I can't do much else. I also cannot do this every day otherwise I will have a massive flare up that requires days of rest.

3. I space out these writing days. Every other day seems to work okay. If I have to go somewhere, such as to an appointment or some other place outside my house, then I need to space it out even further. To leave my home, I must spend an entire day resting to prepare for that outing. Resting means stuck in bed, sleeping, maybe doing some mindless crafts, watching something that doesn't use up energy, or reading a few pages here and there.

So do I recommend this schedule to folks? No, actually. I don't.

So why do I do it then?

I need something to help me choose hope.

Some basic facts I deal with daily:

I'm sick with a debilitating disease that has no cure. I can barely leave my bed. I often have to use a wheelchair or crutches to get around my home, and I can't leave my house without my wheelchair because I can't walk further than 10 to 15 feet without collapsing.

We live in a society that dehumanizes people like me. I get very little visitors. The local so-called disability programs often fails to help and drags their feet for everything. I'm constantly fighting to keep disability benefits (every 5 months I gotta pull out the paperwork to prove my disability still exists, which once done wipes me out for a week).

When I need assistance for energy-intensive tasks like cleaning and cooking larger meals, I often fail to get that help. Every task I do requires me to carefully ration my small amount of energy (for example, most people have ten spoons to work with in a day. I have two or three at most, and sometimes I have to borrow a spoon from a future day, so I end up with less spoons one day to make up for that).

I often rely on my sisters and friends in town, much of whom are busy. Meaning, unless it's an appointment, the task will take months because that is often how long I must wait before someone finds the time to help me.

For example, it's taking me months to fix my desktop. It doesn't matter that I could do more things with it: play video games again, make music again, do more creative things (that maybe might allow for income), etc... -- none of that matters, because in the end, I rely on the schedule of others to find time for me. My dreams, hopes, needs are always secondary.

When I ask for help, I am forced to trust the person will continue to see me as a human being worthy of respect and dignity, worthy of care. I have discovered in the course of this illness, that some people I trusted with my life? Some of them came to resent the fact I am disabled, and I have been told to my face by these former friends about how I am a burden, a drain on society, that it disgusted them I had to ask for help for simple things, and they no longer wanted to be my friend.

Moments like that made me less likely to reach out, so then I try to do it all myself, only to end up collapsing (often leading to a hospital visit). This year I've been trying to not fall into neglecting my health. I didn't want to end up at the hospital every three months (which has been the norm for five years). I'm proud to say I only was in the hospital twice this year. (Hey, let me have my victory, okay? I'm quite proud of this.)

But how do I avoid falling into neglecting my health? I have to stop pushing myself beyond what my health could handle. It meant asking for help knowing it could be the last time this person every spoke to me if they decided I asked for help too many times.

For a disabled person like me, it rarely matters what I offer to others. I have skills that I can leverage for people and for organizing, but I'm often told that because I'm disabled I shouldn't help.

For example, a friend needed assistance with the audio tech at his church. I came in my wheelchair and got it all working just fine. I did this for a few months, until the church council got wind of it, and proceeded to harass me about how I am "too disabled" to do this. That I shouldn't "make a spectacle of myself." How sitting behind a giant wooden desk that hid me from view, while I wore headphones and worked a soundboard is a "spectacle" is beyond me. In the end, I was driven out by those people who "claimed" to be "doing good." This hurt them, since they no longer had an experienced audio tech, but also me because it left me even more isolated. I often offer emotional support to people, and yet I get told that I shouldn't "overexert" myself as if this person knows more about my limits then I do.

No one knows my limits but me and my doctor, and even then, I am the only person who can make that call. If I say I can do the thing? Then I will do the thing within my capabilities. If for any reason I need assistance or must delay the completion of the thing, I will communicate that.

People seem to forget that I have a brain and can communicate effectively without assistance.

In the end? Far too many people want me to be abled-bodied and to show up in-person. Being told that directly far too many times felt like a slap to the face because I desperately wanted to be able to do that but I couldn't due to my illness. If I show up in-person, yes, I will need some accommodations, but that doesn't mean I can't still use my knowledge and skills to assist. The assumption that disabled people have no skills, no knowledge, no capabilities is ableism painted up as "good intentions" to "keep disabled people from hurting themselves." It's eugenics in action, isolating a group of people, dehumanizing them, and stripping them of their autonomy slowly over time. I wish people took my skills and knowledge seriously. That they see ME and not just a sack of breathing meat in a wheelchair. I may not be able to pull off many abled-bodied stunts that involve physical prowess, but I can write, work audio equipment, edit documents, run software programs and do basic de-bugging, organize meetings or marches by doing the behind the scenes paperwork, crafting tech solutions to a problem, and so forth. And yet, if I try to offer these skills, I'm ignored, pushed out, and dehumanized all because some people (often white cisgender people) decided they "knew best" about my own body and mind.

I can give people all that I am, only to be spat upon for being too disabled to fit people's expectations of how a friend should behave.

It leaves me exhausted, scared, and worried that this next time I reach out? It could mean another friend lost.

Who can I rely on then?

Internet friends to some degree, but I worry sometimes due my trauma. About whether they would still be my friend in person. In the end, all I can do is trust and hope that they love me as I am and accept what I can offer, and continue to be there for them when I'm able to do so.

I can rely on my fluffy cat Sgt. Quark Amaya McFluffers, who has saved my life many a time. Literally. He brings me joy and cuddles me when I weep.

I can rely on my writing.

Yes, My writing.

The primary reason I am alive right now, is because I have been writing all year.

To give myself a reason to keep going.

To not lose hope.

Writing keeps me alive literally.

So no, I don't recommend people use the schedule I did above. I don't recommend that because it's not sustainable. It's actually not that healthy.

I recognize it's not healthy, but at this time, when there's little else in my life that gives me strength to keep going?

I cultivate hope through these written words.

Do people read what I write? Do they enjoy it?

Gods, I hope so. But in all reality, longer stories generally don't do well for keeping readers. I also don't write smut (it might appear in a story but it's never a focus).

The stories I want to tell?

They dig into the trauma of the characters, dig into their emotions, dig into the reality of the consequences to actions and situations, and explore how they heal.

Sure I've written silly things here and there to amuse myself, but the vast majority of what I've written is about healing from trauma. It's about survival. It's about choosing hope.

So yes, most people don't want a Lord of the Rings version of Legend of Korra or Supercorp. And that's okay.

But there are people that do. And those people somehow manage to find my niche. I still sometimes get comments or kudos from them.

And to see that?

To see those comments? Those people reaching out to let me know my writing mattered? That it brings them joy? That it got them to cry? To think?

It floods me with the strength to choose hope yet again. Human connection matters.

It's that reminder that I'm not a burden. That I'm not alone. That I'm not forgotten. That maybe, just maybe I can make a difference in people's lives. Even if it is just words on paper or a screen.

I am so grateful for these people. So, so grateful.

Because in a world that is hostile to the existence of disabled people, of people who can't fit the productivity standards of capitalism?

This is literally all I have left.

And so I write.

Thus I leave you with this: May you find the strength to keep choosing hope too.

Thanks for reading.

Now go write stuff.

#writing #disability #disability justice #disabilities #disabled #writing habits #ableism #tw ableism #disability rights #People need to stop seeing me as an inanimate object for them to get rid of #instead see me as the human being I am who is quite capable of reasoning

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genshinboys · 2 years

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DATING APP HCS - AYATO

PAIRING: AYATO X FEM READER

WARNING: SMUT, DOM/LITTLE DYNAMICS

If you are an Ayato fan, do yourself a favour and read it. Even if you aren’t, you still better do it. Just saying :> Ayato is the best daddy material and I just had to write it. Smut, smut, smut and lots of Daddy Ayato taking care of his baby. You might want to find yourself a sugar daddy right after reading it, but don’t hold me accountable for it.

You’ve been mulling over the option of getting yourself a sugar daddy for quite some time now. You are just a broke Creative Writing major who can barely afford to pay the bills, not to mention the awfully high college fees.

All in all, you also can’t deny the fact that your sexual frustration has already reached sky-high levels, leaving you mostly annoyed and miserable. What’s wrong with you? Aren’t you cute enough? Maybe you’re just too clingy. You’ve heard it often enough to actually start believing it.

So, after the stage of initial doubt has passed, you find yourself seated on the sofa with a phone in your hand. You’ve done your research thoroughly. You know how terrible people can get online so you made sure to pick the safest dating site the Internet has to offer. Your anxiety soars high after you finally hit the save button and lean back to take a look at the profile you’ve created.

Coming to think of it, you’ve always been a little bit... different?

Your parents spoiled you rotten and brought you up inside of a protective bubble that guarded you against the cruelty of others and the world. It always felt like a little bit too much for your vulnerable side that very often took control of everything that happened in your life. From a very young age, you shunned the company of other kids, preferring to spend your time in solitude, immersed in your fantasy world of dolls and pastel plushies.

That bubble was just an illusion, though. You had no choice but to come up against some very harsh realities after you decided to move out of your parents’ secure haven. You wanted to pursue your dreams of becoming a writer and finally be able to look at yourself in the mirror without feeling like a failure.

Thus, if there is anything that you’re sure of in your life at this point; it must be:

1) You are Broke (with capital B!), but most certainly, you are not going to ask your parents to save your ass yet again.

2) You will go to any lengths to graduate from this university and make your family proud.

3) You are done with the permanent HORNY status. The prospects of having somebody else to look out for you as well as deal with the f.o.r.e.v.e.r wet panties issue is too good to let it fall between the cracks without giving it a chance first.

With your hopes high, you began browsing different profiles of strangers who hinted at being interested in providing for a Little. These were, however, mostly old and yucky-looking men. It took but a few minutes to realise that the idea of getting yourself a sugar daddy, no matter how pleasing it seems, will be more difficult than you had initially thought it would. Are you being too picky? Perhaps. But, you can’t bring yourself to EVER let a creep like that touch you! The mere thought triggers a gag reflex, and your body shudders as if attacked by thousands of sleazy slimes.

So, just when you are about to call it a day and go to bed to sulk over the fact that your pathetic ass can’t even find anybody to have sex with you, let alone pay you for it, your bulging in shock eyes almost pop out of your head.

„Holy shit!”

You rise to your feet and then; have to immediately sit back down because of the growing excitement causing the world around to spin.

This man is fucking flawless. Pastel hair? Elegant and charming smile? He doesn’t even look like he is anywhere near his 30s. Your mouth melts as if you haven’t eaten for days, and now there is a delicious looking cake served on a silver plate right in front of your eyes. Absurd. Why would a man of his calibre even want to pay anybody to have sex with him? Shouldn’t it be the other way round? Heck, you would surely pay him if your wallet was anything thicker than a tissue.

You swipe right.

And then your mood drops.

„Oh, I’m such a tool.”

Aha, why are you getting so excited? You pinch those burning cheeks hard enough to bring yourself down a peg or two. Why would he, the walking perfection of lavender and baby-blue Celestial being, ever become interested in YOU of all the people who’d be ready to bounce on his dick if he just as much as spared them a glance?

The profile name says AyatoDaddy. You wonder what his real name is. The site won’t let you see any personal details unless you match with someone. You were cautious enough to keep your name private and decided to stick to an alias of sorts. If they want to know your name they will need to ask. DUH.

Like an idiot, you spring to your feet yet again when the sound of the notification startles the shit out of you.

My oh my oh my

The screen lights up, and your heart gallops with the speed of a herd of feral horses.

A match? A new match?

And a message from... Kamisato Ayato.

You put your phone away, pacing around the room like a tiger trapped in a cage to gather your thoughts. It takes you precious minutes before you finally are ready to pick up the device again.

From: Kamisato Ayato

Hi, pretty girl. I saw your profile and simply couldn’t resist texting you. How come such a cute little doll like you doesn't have anyone to look after her? Well, no matter. It seems to be my lucky day. I’ll gladly take care of you, Little One.

You leave him on read as the man stands in stark contrast to all the creepy dudes that previously bombarded you with messages. It does funny things to your stomach. So polite? Also, no disgusting dick picks or other nasty comments about your boobs. Uh, how should you respond? Out of pure anxiety, you start biting your nails. Your body rocks back and forth with your legs pressed to your chest.

Ding-Ding

Another notification shakes you out of your brain paralysis.

Kamisato Ayato: Was I too direct? I know you have probably had your fair share of disappointments. Please, let me assure you, I’m nothing like the disgusting lot you’ve met so far. I will be good to you. It’s a promise, and I’m a man of my word. How about giving me a chance to prove it, though?

It’s indescribable what his words do to your affection-craving mind. Trembling, your clammy hands attempt to formulate a sentence as you tap the buttons in haste.

PinkFairy: No, no. You’re not too direct. I would like that too. It’s just, can we take it slow, please?

That wasn’t the best of answers, and you instantly regret sending it. Take it slow? What the fuck? You’ve just miraculously found yourself a sugar daddy who also happens to be the hottest man alive, and you want to TAKE IT SLOW???

KamisatoAyato: I see no problem with that, Pink Fairy :)

Shit, shouldn’t he be angry or something? You thought he would like to get things going fast if his profile is anything to infer from.

KamisatoAyato: I would love to get to know you better first.

Damn, you once again left him on read. What the hell is happening to you? FOCUS!

PinkFairy: Yes, yes. Exactly. Thank you for being so understanding!

Sheesh, this reply also comes across ass too cringy for your liking, and you want nothing else but to sink through the floor and vanish.

KamisatoAyato: I will be honest with you, Pink Fairy, and I trust you can also do the same for me. I’m not after some meaningless sex. It stopped being exciting a long time ago. What kind of Daddy/Dom are you interested in?

You become even more flustered. The sudden shift in the seriousness of this conversation makes you hold your breath, panic and fight the uneasiness whirring in the pit of your stomach as you fidget on the sofa. All the same, you realise it won’t do you any good if you lied to him.

PinkFairy: I’m new to this... I just know I don’t want any flings. I don’t like casual sex. Is that ok? :<

A girl saying she doesn’t like casual sex after going on a daddy looking spree. Now, that’s rich.

KamisatoAyato: So, if I understand you correctly, you’ve never had a Daddy?

Tears prick your eyes as you try to control the tightening in your throat, which results in a weird hiccup. What were you even thinking? This gorgeous man must be so done with you by now.

PinkFairy: No, I’ve never had a Daddy.

You can barely see the screen when you send the reply.

KamisatoAyato: That’s perfect! It makes me very happy. I’m also looking for a Little who wants a more stable relationship. I won’t disappoint you.

What? You try to process what has just happened, but it’s like anxiety and shock cobwebbed your mind.

KamisatoAyato: So, my PinkFairy, can I ask you for your name? I think I’ve gained enough of your trust to get to know it :) But, if not, I will send you a selfie so that you can be sure I’m not a fraud.

You gulp once his lilac pupils smile at you from the photo. There is a small mole under his mouth and a soft albeit a bit playful curve to his rosy lips. That’s so not fair. The man looks like a noble Prince from your bedtime stories.

PinkFairy: Thank you. You’re very handsome, but I’m sure you’ve heard it many times before. My name is Y/N.

You stare at the photo and notice more and more subtle details that all make up the graceful beauty of the man.

KamisatoAyato: You have a lovely name. As you probably already know, I’m Ayato. Very pleased to meet you. I’ve never heard it from such a cute girl like yourself, though. Can I also see you? Just a simple selfie, nothing that would make you feel uncomfortable. I simply wish to confirm my PinkFairy is real :)

You don’t feel anywhere near as attractive as he is, but you understand he also needs some proof that you’re not a scammer. Quickly, you wipe your tears away and try to take a decent photo. You send it to him; without even looking at it properly and preparing yourself mentally for another rejection.

KamisatoAyato: Oh, my my. Aren’t you just the prettiest? Thank you. I appreciate it.

The fact that he considers you pretty makes you feel light-headed. Does he mean it? Warmth nestles deep in your belly, and you begin to worry at your lip.

PinkFairy: You’re too nice.

You reply dryly, but Ayato doesn’t seem even remotely discouraged.

KamisatoAyato: So, what are you up to, Baby? Care to tell me something more about you?

The lavender angel keeps the conversation going until the very late hours of the evening. Until he is certain he will be the only thing on your mind when he finally tells you to lie down and rest like a good girl. Because that’s what you are, right? Daddy’s good little girl.

Unfortunately, you’re yet again reminded of your striking lack of any experience in the Little/Dom dynamics as you stare blankly at the pdf file sent by Ayato. Ahh, to be brutally honest, with the staggering total amount of 1 (questionable) partner in your life, more conventional sexual activities do not seem to be your forte either. The letters before your eyes start to blur when you sluggishly move down the never-ending list of rules/conditions of the contract.

You have quickly decided to skip the part which included various names of kinks and fetishes. These alien names looked so cryptic; it left you bewildered and careening off the edge of another melt-down. Does it mean Ayato intends to do all of that with you? Or is it like one of those patient surveys you are forced to fill in before the first meeting with your doctor? TICK for yes - I like it, CROSS - don’t you dare slash I have never done that before? Perhaps, the lilac-eyed Prince Charming wants to understand you and your needs better. Thing is, you don’t even know yourself. How could you, when the only sexual encounter you have had so far finished in a fiasco and lots of tears.

Instead, you focus on the more approachable terms of the contract.

1) No talking back to Daddy. Daddy is always right, and you must listen to him.

2) During playtime, you can only address Daddy Dom as Daddy / Master / Sir.

3) Be polite and well-mannered; say please and thank you.

4) No cursing.

5) Eat at least three meals a day. No dieting or food restriction unless you discuss it with Daddy first and he finds it necessary.

6) Sleep at least 8 hours a day. When Daddy tells you it is bedtime you must comply.

7) When something upsets you, Daddy must know about it.

8) No lies. You mustn’t under any circumstances keep secrets from Daddy or be dishonest.

9) Daddy wants to see you every day, even if for a short time.

10) Don’t touch yourself unless Daddy says you can.

11) No cumming without Daddy’s permission.

12) You must ask Daddy to help you with all of your sexual needs. Once again, no secrets are allowed.

The list goes on and on like this, getting spicier and more embarrassing with each point. You know you probably look like an absolute mess, cheeks crimson red, breath uneven and furrowed forehead. Your friend has been shooting you worried looks for the longest time now, but even though she is sitting right across from you, you didn’t notice.

„Pssst!”

She gestures toward you as discreetly as she only can to pull you out of your trance. Finally, you lift your eyes that have been glued to the screen of your phone for the majority of the lecture. You feel like abruptly woken up from the deepest of dreams. You gawk at her dully.

„Are you ok?”

She whispers offering you a concerned smile.

„Yeah, just zoned out. It’s all fine.”

You shrug her off, close to another heart attack when the phone vibrates on the desk. It’s a message from Ayato. You’ve been texting non-stop for a few days now. You have even exchanged phone numbers out of convenience. It’s still shocking how easy it is to talk to him; how smoothly the conversation is going without awkward pauses or misunderstandings. You seem to get on quite well.

He is funny and kind but also flirtatious. Not the pushy type, just the right dose of charm and teasing jokes to make you blush and squeal out loud whenever nobody is looking. You told him that your biggest wish is to become a writer; shared details about your life, favourite hobbies, things you do when you feel sad. He asks about everything and nothing, being very enthusiastic when you get comfortable enough to vent. He has also been pretty straightforward about the things you want to know, answering as sincerely as he only can.

From Ayato:

Hey, Pretty Girl. How about finally letting me see you this weekend? <3 Have you read the file I sent you?

You are torn. You have been craving to meet Ayato, imagining how perfect he must be in real life if he already appears to be the most amazing guy you have ever had a chance to talk to. Uneasy, you re-read the message a couple of times. What if he doesn't like you?

You freeze with the phone in your hand and stare hollowly at the lecturer who babbles something about the sudden shift in the popularity of Inazuman light novels that slowly out-compete the Shogun's beloved poetry. He proceeds to quote a widely respected owner of the publishing house in Inazuma - Yae Miko. She claims that without creative innovation there is never any progress. One must venture out of their comfort zone to reap the fruits of success.

You bite your lip, wondering if you actually have the guts to ever become as daring and fearless as the shrine maiden.

Shoot. Merciful Archons protect you.

It is a once-in-a-lifetime chance. If you chicken out now, you will be regretting till the end of your life.

To Ayato:

How about tomorrow?

You are still recovering from the aftershocks of probably the boldest thing you have done in the entirety of your mundane existence when the phone buzzes again. Ayato responds so quickly as if he was waiting for your reply with the device in his hands.

From Ayato:

That's my good girl. Daddy is proud of you ;) I will send you the details a bit later. I have to handle some boring paperwork now. The office is in utter chaos today.

To Ayato:

Sure thing! Take your time.

You twist and turn in your chair, barely surpassing the need to scream at the pet name. You are seriously in deep shit now.

As much as you want to remain calm, it all turns futile when you gingerly trudge into the fancy interiors of Uyuu restaurant, located in the heart of Inazuma. You never come here. The prices are just too high for your broke student standards. You shake your head, realising that you might be a little bit under-dressed for this extravagant place.

„Excuse me, have you got a reservation?”

The head waiter coughs, boldly eyeing your questionable choice in fashion. You go from slightly nervous to borderline hysterical when he continues staring at you with a raised eyebrow.

An arm slides around your waist. The rich and woodsy scent of hinoki reaches your nostrils before the otherworldly lavender man appears in your view, firmly pulling you closer to his hip.

„She is my guest.”

Ayato, whose blueish strands frame his face, cascading down to the broad shoulders, exudes an aura of superiority as he dismisses the man with an idle wave of his hand. There is a glint of distaste in the otherwise serene mosaic of blue and violet pigments of his pupils.

„My apologies.”

The waiter bows down, remorseful. He disappears behind the bamboo folding-screen seconds later. Eyes drilling holes in Ayato’s shoes as he retracts with his tail between his legs.

„You are late.”

You blush a brilliant red when he sneaks his hand under the fabric of your pink sweater. Ayato’s hot palm resolutely finds itself on your hip, turning you to face him. The heat emanating from where his long fingers dig into your flesh rushes further, blooming hotly below your belly. He is so tall. Beautiful. Too beautiful to put into words. Haze descends upon you as he keeps peering at you through the softness of his long lashes. Ayato smirks.

Archons above, you’re supposed to say something!

„I’m so sorry, I---,”

He leans forward. Plush lips dance across your cheek as he lazily skims your flushed face, finally pressing them harder, mere inches from your open mouth.

„Don’t be sorry. I’m so happy to have finally met you.”

Ayato hums, no, purrs words of praise right next to your ear.

„I knew you would be pretty, but...,”

He squeezes your hip harder, and you have to cling to his chest for some stability.

„This is far beyond my expectations.”

A crisp, fragrant forest and rich cypress aromas further hold you spellbound. His scent is so subtle yet strangely intoxicating, and you can’t help being a little heartbroken when he pulls away. Ayato reluctantly removes himself from your enticing warmth and straightens before you, appearing even more regal and handsome. His smile is blinding.

„Hey, where are your manners? Are you going to act like my good girl or not?”

He chastises, barely managing to stifle a smile at your bashful reaction.

„Thank you, thank you, I’m, erm, I’m so sorry.”

You no longer know what you are saying, drowning in the bottomless well of purple pupils.

„Look at you, learning so quickly.”

Ayato’s fingers brush over yours ever so delicately. He chuckles at the sweater paws, eventually weaving your hands together. It feels safe. Safer than you have felt in a long while.

„Come now, let us sit.”

Periwinkle haired man’s eyes linger on you, and even if you duck your head in embarrassment, Ayato’s soft fingertips capture your chin to put it back in place, right where he wants it, which is vis-a-vis his handsome features.

„My Baby looks lovely in pink.”

Ayato fumbles with the too long-sleeve of your sweater that swallows the entirety of your tiny hand. Another airy chuckle. Purple orbs chase yours in silent adoration.

„Is the ceiling more interesting than I am?”

Ayato teases, sneaking his palm under the sleeve to trace soothing circles over the tense knuckles.

„N-No! Of course not. T-thank you. Pink is my favourite colour.”

He giggles again for some reason and raises your hand to his mouth. You sweep over him with wide eyes. Slowly, tenderly Ayato kisses each hard knuckle; and the tension dissipates, forming a tight knot in your belly instead.

„Oh, I see. Are there any other colours that you are particularly fond of?”

He queries, kiss after kiss, causing your body to shiver.

„Baby b-blue or pastel purple. All pastel colours, I guess.”

You add hastily, brain utterly scrambled.

„M-hmm. I bet they would look good on you as well.”

Ayato smirks deviously, no longer able to keep his witty jokes at bay. Wait a minute---, is he referring to-,

„But, I’ll make sure to confirm that later. We agreed to take things slow, right Pink Fairy?”

The skin of your hand burns, each peck of his lips leaves a scorching hot residue of the man’s desire to have you.

All you can do is nod, fighting another tingling sensation that bolts down your spine.

„What do you think about the file?”

Ayato gently places your hand back on the table. Lavender eyes keep a strict watch on your reaction. He notices how your fingers retract, shimming away from his own.

„Is there anything you’d like to ask me?”

He catches your palm again before you have the chance to hide it under the table.

„I-I, I’m not sure about the meaning of some of these things...,”

You trail off, trying to control your breathing.

„Mhmm.”

Ayato hums, inching closer to you. He lowers his tone to a whisper, blowing hot air on your flushed cheek as he again takes over the conversation.

„You have never done these things before, correct? Don’t worry. The contract is just a guide. We will figure things out as we go. I have thought about it. I’m willing to forego certain formalities. You’re very special after all.”

His other palm wanders up and down your back, massaging the nervousness away. Unknowingly, your body sways towards him, yearning for more of his reassuring touches.

„Y-You do?”

You stutter your answer away, mindful not to moan out loud when his hand dives under the sweater for the second time already.

„What if I am not what you are looking for? Not the Little you want.”

Ayato clicks his tongue at you, possessively grabbing the meat of your hip to show you how much he disliked that answer.

„You are exactly what I want, silly.”

„Ah!”

A small squeak is torn out of your mouth when he so unexpectedly latches onto you. You peer at him, apologetic.

„What a pretty sound you just made. I love that.”

Ayato kisses your forehead, taking a deep breath to inhale the sweetness of your fruity shampoo. He cradles you closer. Some people turn their heads to see where the noise came from, but Ayato is too clouded with his obsessive need to hear you whimper again to register that.

His hand moves to the front, caressing the lower belly and your body jerks in response. He earns himself another little, muffled sound. Ahh, Ayato will have lots of fun with you. He knows it.

„Oh, you’re so addictive. I don’t think I will ever have enough of you.”

He chuckles, bewildered at how quickly you managed to intoxicate his brain.

„So, would you like to become Daddy’s Little Girl?”

And at this time, it’s hard to remember how to formulate a coherent sentence, so you just shake your head, much as you did it before.

„Daddy needs you to open this pretty mouth. Words, Baby, use your words.”

Ayato’s previous Littles all but pale compared to that pair of teary eyes looking at him in such a way that he would be ready to spread your cunt open with his cock, heedless of the people around. He would impale you with that thick shaft until you understand there will never be a better match for him than you, just you.

„Yes, Daddy. I want to be yours. Only yours.”

Unholy level of adrenaline mixed with lust roll over his body. The man breathes in and out slowly, with such great effort to remain civil. The world before you is obscured with the periwinkle coloured strands and lavender hues when something moist tickles your lips. Ayato is kissing you.

The kiss is ginger and haste, barely there.

„Daddy will protect you.”

He pulls away despite the fact that his hardened cock makes his thighs shake.

„You will be safe with me.”

Ayato’s heels dig into the ground. His limbs soon feel stiff from how much he’s been flexing his muscles, cutting off the blood flow.

„Now, let me pamper you with some good food. Let’s celebrate properly.”

He places another quick kiss on your temple before taking a greedy swig of water.

From that point, your life has turned upside down. Ayato made you quit your badly paid part-time job and, since then, has taken care of all the bills that were giving you constant headaches. You have been seeing him every day. He is very stubborn about always making sure you arrive at the university safe and sound (and with swollen from his demanding kisses lips). Yes. Ayato is sweet. He is also very authoritative and doesn’t take no for an answer. So, when you make some noises of complaint, he just menacingly zeros his eyes on yours.

„Princess, you are not going there by bus. Who do you think I am, huh? What kind of an outlandish idea is that even?”

He stares at your pouty lips for a few heartbeats. He exhales a long, tired sigh. Ayato walks up to your moody self, fingers squishing your cheeks hard enough to make you whine in discomfort.

„Listen here, young lady. Daddy said no bus, and you have no right acting so bratty about it now, understood?”

„B-but Daddy--,”

You try your hardest, opting for the puppy eyes and a few dramatic sniffles with your nose. Ayato’s firm resolve slips for the shortest of moments, but he won’t let you pick up on that.

„Are you going to question Daddy?”

He demands answers, pushing you flush against the wall behind you.

Ayato is a controlling man. A domineering ethereal being with little tolerance for defiance. And that is why you love pushing his buttons.

„No, no. I was just asking nicely, Daddy.”

Ayato tsked at you, pinning your wrist to the wall behind you. Archons above. Seconds later, his lips press to yours; with such fervour, so much passion. You are being kissed within an inch of your life in his office. You writhe your hips, squirming at the rock-solid grip around your trembling hands. You have only yourself to blame for his drunken power trip.

You love when reason leaves him. It’s rare to see the man so otherwise level-headed, so calm and collected go slightly feral when that mask drops, and his passion slips between the cracks.

He breaks the kiss. The lavender pupils darken, shrouded by the haze of need.

„I’m warning you, Baby. Do you think I don’t know you are doing that on purpose, mhm? You are lucky I’m at work. I’d spank your little ass till it gets red and swollen.”

He threatens you many a time. Things get awfully wet and sticky between your thighs whenever Ayato dirty-talks you with his eyes boring into yours.

He likes reading you stories while you are in his bed, cosily wrapped in his silky sheets. They smell like the man himself. It’s purely sex that’s on your mind when you inhale his pillow. Your pussy tingles with want.

„Baby, why don’t you snuggle up to the real thing instead.”

Ayato jokes, gleefully peering at your flustered face when he catches you red-handed. Maybe nothing bad would happen if you just told him you are ready to let him fuck you? You want to ask, but you are also too afraid at the same time. You have no idea about sex. What if you can’t please him?

Ayato’s blueish strands tickle your face, causing you to blink your eyes repeatedly. He hovers over you, arms on your shoulders as he presses you down to rest on the bed.

„I didn’t realise my Little needs Daddy’s attention so badly. Why didn’t you just say so, huh?”

The lavender angel teases, wrapping his arms tightly around your middle. He drops his head, burying it in the crook of your neck. You let out a shaky breath when he starts pepper-kissing every inch of your exposed skin. Something like dizziness descends upon you, numbing all of the sounds and sensations that are not related to Ayato himself.

„Say it.”

He orders.

„I want to hear it from your lips.”

Purple eyes gaze at you under the thick lashes when he drags his kisses lower to your chest.

„I-I need you, Daddy. I want all of your attention.”

His touches are measured and gentle as if each one was meant to make you lose your sanity for him. However, he has been nothing but sweet and caring so far, keeping his promise about taking it slow. Ayato’s kiss is long and deep before he takes the book into his hands.

„My good little girl. C’mere.”

He doesn’t fuck you that night. Nor the nights that follow after. Your heart beats furiously for the longest of times when he lulls you to sleep with his sensual voice and your head resting on his chest.

He takes you out on dates: picnics on sunny days; cinema to watch your favourite cartoons; romantic walks to admire the cherry blossoms that fall from the prettiest sakura trees everywhere in Inazuma. Everything in his company is much better, and today is no exception.

He took you to the amusement park; bought you a big pastel stuffie which he carried around the whole day so that you didn’t have to tire your small hands. The view was equally funny as it was adorable, and you couldn’t help stealing glances in his direction.

„What, never seen a grown-up man with a big-ass teddy bear?”

Ayato joked, making you choke on the boba tea as you broke into a fit of laughter. The lavender beauty soon joined you, not being able to hold it in any longer when you were giggling so heartily. The skin around his eyes crinkled, and he guffawed like the biggest dork. Struck dumb, you halted, dazzled by Ayato’s genuine display of emotions. Something, ok, more than one thing, more like a multitude of butterflies fluttered below your navel.

„Hey, why did you stop?”

Ayato queried. His glossy eyes smiled at you, entirely unaware of your inner turmoil. A small drop of rain landed on his perfect cheekbone, and the man looked heavenwards.

„Mhmm, seems like we should get you somewhere safe. How about---,”

Ayato craned his neck in search of some cosy place to sit.

„Ayato, can you take me home?”

Shogun wasn’t in the best of moods that day, and the drizzle of rain slowly picked up, wetting the angel’s periwinkle locks. Ayato reciprocated the hopeful twinkle in your eyes with the tiniest bit of hesitation.

„Didn’t you want to try that tea-cup ride?”

He decided to double-check, sealing the distance between you and him with the gigantic bear resting on his hip.

„No, no. Take me home..., Daddy, can you, please?.”

You tugged at the sleeve of his baby-blue turtleneck that matched your own. You had wished for an adorable couple outfit for you two, and the man agreed straight off, proudly wearing it to your dates.

How could he ever reject you when you masterfully pull at his heartstrings no matter how much he tries to remain unaffected?

Ayato lowered himself to peck your plush lips. You tasted like cotton candy and boba tea combined. Ayato thought about delving his tongue into your sweet mouth, but it wasn’t the time nor place to get himself carried away so easily.

„Come, sweet girl. Daddy will grant your every wish.”

„Almost done. Be patient.”

Ayato commands somewhat raspily, drying your hair with the towel. You’re seated cross-legged between his meaty thighs, fresh out of the bath and wearing his shirt only. You got caught in the rain on your way back to the parking lot. Ayato was palpably displeased, preparing a hot bath and a mug of camomile tea as soon as you made it into his apartment.

„I don’t like it, Daddy.”

You scoff, grimacing when he picks up the brush to untangle some of the knots. He is extremely delicate with you, so cautious not to cause any discomfort.

„Be good, and Daddy shall reward you.”

„B-but-,”

You mutter under your breath, and yet; Ayato pinches the flesh of your thigh in retaliation.

„No buts. I said be patient, didn’t I?”

You wiggle your hips to the sides impatiently, squealing at the burn when he gives your belly a squeeze as a second warning.

„No, Ayato, not my tummy!”

Ayato chuckles at the lack of daddy pet name, wondering if you realise how hard you have been pushing with your cute butt into his hardening cock. He hasn’t put on a fresh set of clothes yet. He discarded his turtleneck somewhere on the floor and promptly took care of your drenched attire.

So, he is sitting right behind you with his chest naked and wet periwinkle strands. The dampness of Ayato’s hair only adds to his naturally fresh scent of hinoki wood that beguiles your brain.

„Finally.”

Ayato grunts satisfied, lovingly pulling you closer to himself. His hands softly press onto your lower belly when he attacks your neck with his wet lips.

„Tickles.”

You squirm, and he smirks against your skin. You can feel it. The man is such a sleazy rascal sometimes!

„Ayato!”

He rakes the juncture between your shoulder and neck with his canines, making you flinch.

„What happened to Daddy? Huh? Did you forget? When it is playtime you are not allowed to use my name.”

He presses forward, simultaneously dragging your hips down to grind his dick against your buttocks.

Oh, so this is the type of playtime Ayato has in mind.

„S-Sorry, Daddy.”

You arch your back, and Ayato snuggles himself to you. His nose brushes against your cheek. With agonizing slowness, his hands dip lower, finding their safe spot on your inner thighs. You are not wearing any panties. Both of you know that he didn’t bring you a fresh pair of lingerie to the bathroom. Nothing else apart from his shirt.

Languidly, he begins to tease the plumpness of your thighs. Cushiony pads rasp over the skin, and you quiver, throwing your head back until it rests on his firm shoulder.

Ayato giggles huskily.

„Have I just found your weak spot?”

His laughter sends little shivers over your burning-up body. Ayato’s fingers run over the skin in perfect circles, teasingly getting closer to your silken folds.

„Daddy asked you a question.”

Ayato uses his nails to remind you how much he dislikes when you ignore him. If he just knew it isn't on purpose! Your brain is stir-fried. His touches take your coherence away.

„Yes, Daddy?”

You sigh and whimper, disoriented. Ayato listens attentively, galvanised by each stifled cry of pent-up need. Your breath catches in your throat when Ayato boldly, without any hesitation, slips one of his hands higher, under the shirt.

„Does my Baby feel good now?”

He leisurely traces the crease between the leg and hip, and you can’t hold back anymore. Your nails dig into his thighs. Something blazes inside your groin when he unexpectedly groans back, kneading the thigh with full force while squeezing your tummy, right above your wet pussy. He kitten-licks your neck, leaving a trail of saliva that burns your skin.

„Yes, oh--nah, yes!”

Ayato growls, crushing his lips against your neck with the sole purpose of marking you. The skin turns deep purple as he sucks ferally. You wiggle desperately, hissing at the piercing pain of his teeth scraping over the bruised spot.

„Daddy, h-hurts!”

You protest, but your body turns against you, granting him even better access when you melt against his chest.

„Oh, is that so? Do you remember the safe word, Little One?”

Ayato asks, tone menacing and laced with the intention to own you. Still, he needs to make sure. He needs to be certain you want it. He promised you, after all.

„I do, Daddy. It--,”

A weird hiccup makes it out of your dry throat. It prevents you from finishing your sentence. Ayato hears your thudding heart when his finger slides up and down right next to your folds. The juices gush out, even though he hasn’t done much to you yet. He smirks, playing with the slick that gathers on his fingertips.

„Say it. Daddy needs to know you will be able to stop me when it’s too much for you, Baby.”

You are completely overwhelmed, unconsciously pushing your hips forward, wanting him to do something, anything.

„Pink bubbles, it’s pink bubbles, Daddy, please! Please!”

Ayato angles his fingers just right. Two long digits press to your labia from each side as he continues the stroking movement. By the time he glides down to your anus, you are moaning out loud, hardly recognising your voice.

„Please what? You have to tell me what you want, Little One.”

Your breathing is hitched, and cheeks are angrily red. The man is fucking playing mind games with you.

„T-Touch me.”

The response comes off too brazen to Ayato’s liking, and he clicks his tongue. You are so embarrassed and frustrated you would be ready to kick and claw at the arrogant man. Yet, Ayato seems to be having the time of his life.

„I am touching you, am I not? Huh? Also, mind your language. It was supposed to be: daddy can you touch me, please.”

Fuck, this man is so damn annoying. You bite your lip so hard it draws blood.

„Daddy~”

Ayato’s cock throbs at the whine, which he has just wrung out of your pretty lips.

„Yes? Words, Baby, use your words.”

„Daddy touch my pussy, please!”

You scream at him, teary-eyed, boiling with need and anger. You can’t believe he made you say it out loud. He plunges the finger inside, purring into your ear in sheer adoration. Your hips budge, legs spread wider to feel him deeper. Much deeper. However, Ayato barely goes past the taut entrance, shallowly flicking the opening to the vagina whilst nibbling at your ear. Lust seizes your senses and deprives you of any shame.

„That’s not---, not like that! Uh!”

„What’s wrong, Little One?”

Ayato croons, feigning innocence. His honey voice is laced with maniacal excitement.

His other hand joins the ministrations, massaging the glistening folds with the flat surface of his pressed together fingers. The slide is so easy, so smooth, Ayato can’t get enough of it. Your pussy starts making these pretty sounds, spilling even more sweet essence when he picks up the pace, zigzagging the swollen pussy lips with a filthy grin of satisfaction on his face.

„Daddy!”

You whimper loudly, trembling, thrashing in his arms. As delicate as his thrusts into your are, your walls prickle with want, squeezing the tip of his finger as if they wanted to suck it in.

„Just put it in, put it in deeper!”

Ayato bites your earlobe gently, but your heartbeat spikes.

„Be nicer to Daddy, would you?”

Ayato reprimands, and then... everything stops. He stops touching you! It is a punishment for your bratty attitude, but still, it is so cruel. So unfair. You whine at the loss of the warmth of his fingers on your pussy. His digit retracted, leaving you clenching around nothing. The world spins, and your eyes shut tight as you bite the inner side of your cheek.

„Daddy, please! I want it deeper. I need you. I want to cum so badly.”

You weep, pathetically begging him to let you find your release. Ayato snarls when you start shaking your ass to the sides like a puppy ready to be bred. He thinks he is about to lose his mind. Vicious want slashes through his groin when you stir his throbbing cock with your cute ass. You are so fucking perfect. So needy and breedable. He will break you if he doesn’t control himself. He takes a deep breath. Finally, he whispers in his usual cool and teasing lilt.

„My good, good girl. Cum for daddy.”

He moans hotly against you when his finger delves deep into your velvety hole, immediately brushing over the gummy wall at the very back of your pussy. His other hand is back to playing with your labia, quicker than before, caressing the swollen flesh with the right amount of pressure. You meet his thrust with stuttering hips as tears of relief stream down your cheeks. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Tingly, so so tingly!

„Is that what you wanted, Sweetheart?”

„Yes, yes!”

His strokes deepen, lengthen, building the tension in your lower belly with each precise thrust. You clutch onto his forearm shakily. Nails dig into the unblemished skin, leaving it clawed and red. Ayato loves it. He wants to remind himself every day that he did that to you. He made you so desperate. He turned you into a brainless doll, craving only him and his attention.

„Daddy, close, so close!”

You chant, rocking your hips forward as you feel the first sparks of euphoria crackling low below your navel.

„Let it go, Baby.”

He orders, and the coil snaps. Slick gushes down, sticking to Ayato’s hand, dribbling down to the expensive sheets. Icy shivers ripple through your skin, making your whole body jerk as if teased with an electric current. He helps you through it. Ayato measuredly adjusts his moves to let you come down from your high; without over-stimulating you. He knows it might have been too much for you. He couldn’t control himself at all. He whispers sweet nothings against your ear, sensing how much you are shaking in his arms.

„Hey, Baby. Is everything ok? Did Daddy hurt you?”

Your cheeks are still wet with tears when you reposition slightly, burying your head into his chest.

„No. I just, I have never felt this way.”

You sob despite doing your utmost to keep it all in. You can hear Ayato’s heartbeat beating erratically. He wipes his hands into his trousers and pulls you flush against his torso.

„This way? Was it a good feeling or a bad one?”

Ayato unconsciously holds his breath when you take your time before answering his question.

„Too good.”

You mumble, drowsy and satisfied. Your eyelids are so heavy, mind and body exhausted like never before. Ayato sighs in relief.

„Hey, Daddy is happy. You make me so happy.”

He whispers, but you can’t hear him anymore, drifting away in Ayato’s secure embrace.

Ayato was going mad with need. His dick was so painfully hard he had half the mind to fuck you in your sleep. However, something, a very weird feeling deep inside his chest didn’t allow him to wake you up when you so obviously needed your rest after probably one of the very few orgasms of your life. Most assuredly, the first one given to you by another man. He jerked himself off in the bathroom, cringing at himself and his inability to get his shit together. Suddenly, he didn’t feel like the powerful man he is, well respected in Inazuma and dignified Kamisato Ayato, but this scared youth who inherited his father’s business and was forced to man up quickly.

You are doing bad things to him. Ayato’s mind is running in circles while he stares blankly at the documents in his office. You spent the morning together. He pampered you as well as he could, and after a shared breakfast, excused himself to go and work on some business-related issues.

Thus, here he is, unable to focus; and fighting some invisible monsters in his head. A shy knock on the door makes him come back to his senses.

„Come in.”

Your head peeks into the office. There is a meek smile on your face. The one that never fails to stir passion into his crotch.

„May I, Daddy?”

The lavender angel smiles back at you fondly.

„I don’t want to be alone. I promise I won’t disturb you.”

He notices a colouring book and crayons that are pressed to your chest.

How adorable can you be? Ayato thinks Celestia themselves sent you to him, and he is not sure he deserves it. He pats his lap invitingly.

„Sit here. There is plenty of space on the desk.”

Ayato shifts the documents, making even more room for the colouring book he bought for you during one of your dates.

You tip-toe towards the desk and stand before him, hesitant.

Ayato chuckles lightly.

„No need to be shy. How many times have you sat in Daddy’s lap already?”

His eyebrows raise at the lovely blush that adores your baby face. Archons have surely been too generous presenting you to him. Ayato might be a thick-skinned man, sometimes even too vain, too conceited. Regardless, he knows better than squandering what he has been offered. He will cherish you - his biggest reward for years of solitude and trials.

His jewel in the crown that he alone put on his head.

He can allow himself to be a bit vulnerable around you. Especially when you sheepishly peer at him through half-lidded eyes, as if he held the reins of your heart. He finds himself hoping he actually does.

Ayato extends his hands, helping you to get comfortable in his lap. A low, satisfied purr makes it out of his chest when your bare thighs slide against his, hiking up the skirt as you move higher.

„Comfy?”

Words are cooed into your ear, and the lavender angel kisses your forehead.

„I love it here, on your lap.”

Ayato hears a tiny gasp when he lazily places a couple of wet kisses on the nape of your neck. He inhales your scent, the fruity shampoo that he loves so much.

„Do you?~”

Even if you are an Archon-sent being, you still feel oddly human, particularly when his long fingers dive into the supple flesh of your hips, tummy, thighs...

„Yes, Daddy, ah-m---,s’ warm, so warm”

Shit. That little whimper again. Ayato has never suspected it would come to this. What is he; going to pop a boner just from smelling your soft hair? He straightens, forehead creased.

„I’m glad. Now, Daddy must work. You can go back to colouring.”

„Yes, Daddy.”

You asked him to pick the drawing. He opted for a duck family playing near the pond. The image is cosy and so domestic. He keeps stealing glances, entranced by these tiny hands that rummage through all the different crayons you have collected so far. He can’t withhold the shivers that zip down his limbs, slowing down his brain. Paperwork does not seem like an option anymore. He hardly muddles through that pins and needles state of paralysis.

Consciously or not, your bum moves against his dick when your legs swing under the desk. During one memorable instant, Ayato cracks. His sweaty palm clutches your hip.

„Baby, what do you think you are doing?”

He rasps the question out, holding onto you tightly.

„N-nothing. Just colouring, Daddy.”

A shameless lie. What is this cheeky attitude? Ayato needs a moment to stabilise his breathing when you press harder, openly rubbing his dick with your buttocks. He pushes back, brushing that rapidly hardening dick over your peachy ass. Ayato loves your ass. So perky and squishable.

„Y-You naughty girl.”

The periwinkle haired man stutters, lifting your skirt to admire these perfect curves. Flames of need flicker in his eyes when you turn to him. Sweet Archons, waves of arousal ripple through him, building up pressure in his twitching shaft.

„Where is your underwear, Baby?”

You attempt a coy smile, but he notices your nervousness. It further cobwebs his brain with threads of lust.

„I might have forgotten, Daddy.”

You rock your bum into his dick, glancing at him gingerly as if you needed confirmation you are doing things right. Ayato’s breath is driven out of him in short order when you continue squishing his dick. The desk moves when he thrusts back. Some crayons fall to the floor.

„I’m sorry. My fault, Daddy.”

Ayato stares at you with blown-out lavender pupils. Your legs tremble visibly when you get off his lap. You then get down to your knees, right in front of him.

„Do you know what you are getting yourself into, Little One?”

Ayato warns, getting more and more uncomfortable with his dick swelling against the zip of his white slacks.

„I’m picking up crayons, Daddy.”

Yes, indeed. You picked a few and in record time dumped them back on the desk. Your clueless act only winds him up more. You crawl back to his spread thighs, placing your small hands on Ayato’s knees. Brazenly, these hands start wandering up his legs, halting by a hair’s breadth from his dick.

„Do you want-want me to stop?”

You intended to sound so confident, but your voice almost gives out mid-sentence.

„Oh, Archons. No, never.”

Ayato realizes it is all new to you, and an inexplicable feeling of pride buds in his chest. You want to please him. The idea itself, your eagerness, that chaste insecurity... It is more intoxicating than any sake he has drunk in his life.

He takes your hands into his and kisses both of them before placing them back on his crotch.

„Daddy will help you, Sweetheart. Don’t worry about a thing.”

He promises and hastily takes out his erected cock. A pearly drop of precum trickles down the girthy shaft, making your lick your lips in anticipation. It is true you have never done this. It is also true you have no idea how to fit this massive piece of meat into your small mouth. However, you won’t give up unless you finally manage to make this perfect man feel good.

„Come closer.”

You comply, feverishly eyeing the red tip that twitches time after time as if it was telling you to suck it. Ayato buries one of his hands into your hair and peers into your glossy eyes.

„Just do whatever feels right. Play with me however you want, pretty girl.”

No, that is not fair. He shouldn’t say such things. The insides of your pussy flutter urgently, craving the man and his cock.

Things escalate fast from the first mind-boggling kiss to the mushroomy tip of that deliciously-curved cock. Ayato moans, not giving a shit about keeping appearances, encouraging you to kiss him again and again. The bitter-sweet mix of cum coats your lips, and you want more, taking a greedy drag of air, which is heavy with Ayato’s exquisite flavour. Kamisato bloodline sure feels noble and elevated on your tongue.

You had no idea cock sucking could be so pleasant.

„F-Fuck, Baby!”

He watches your face change with every wanton slurp and awkward gag when you take him too deeply. You don’t listen when he tells you to be more careful, not to force yourself to swallow it all. His toes curl, and he sits bent in half for most of your virgin-blow job.

„You are sucking too hard, fuck.”

The periwinkle haired beauty hisses out, writhing on the chair when you swirl your tongue, wringing out more creamy substance in a maddeningly slow rhythm. Ayato's whole body convulses, not once but twice, when you switch to flicking your tongue over the crease in a kitten-like fashion, and then your lover bursts without any prior warning.

„Shit!”

It borders on a scream when he empties himself unexpectedly, tugging at your hair as the world before his eyes flashes in different colours.

You swallow as fast as you can, trying not to choke when spurts of thick, rich cum gush down your throat. Ayato forces you off himself, and your moth makes a lewd pop sound. You gasp for air like a strangled animal, looking down at your fingers. They are covered in gossamer liquid.

„So much of it, Daddy.”

You comment, lifting those fingers to your mouth; and hurriedly licking them clean. Meanwhile, Ayato is devastated, failing to comprehend what the hell has just happened.

„Did I do well?”

You demand praise while gulping down the remnants of Ayato’s sexual frustration.

He pulls you closer by your neck, claiming your sticky lips in a deep, thorough kiss that takes your breath away.

„I refuse to believe that was your first, you little minx.”

He picks you up from the floor, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips as he carries you in what seems to be the direction of your shared bedroom. You are agitated, tipsy with self-satisfaction that buzzes all over your being.

„Oh, Daddy. You must tell me. Did you like it?”

You tease, giggling next to his ear, and Ayato grabs your bum, somewhat irked. He throws you on the bed, crawling on top of you like a beast with only one goal in mind.

„Daddy will show you. No need to fret, Pink Fairy.”

„Uh?”

Despite having just ejaculated, his shaft is still half-hard when he wetly slides down your body, forcing his way between your thighs.

He is in no mood for playing; and delves his tongue into your hole, bypassing the niceties entirely.

„Wha---, no!”

His tongue feels like a hot brand. It plunges into you as if Ayato thrived on the experience of your juices in his mouth. You are dripping wet, and your pussy starts screaming in pleasure right from the very beginning. It makes you self-conscious. Hands shoot up to his back. You mark him red, painting his skin in red lines.

You whimper in your tiny voice for him to stop, but he immobilizes you, fucking his tongue into your pussy with lunatic zeal.

Ayato is not happy about getting off before you. It is against his rules. That’s not how he wants to treat his precious little gem.

He will make you cum twice as much even if he has to tie you up and do it by force.

Luckily, it won’t be necessary. You are such a good little girl, after all.

A soundless cry is torn out of you when deep passion flutters anxiously below your navel. Unclear thoughts flow in and out of your brain as Ayato sucks an orgasm out of your swollen folds.

„Mhmm. That was so delicious, Baby. Thank you.”

Ayato hums, giving his dick a few lazy pumps to coat himself properly before he tears you open with it.

He admires his work. Your hair is in sweet disarray, pussy glistening with the mix of his spit and your climax. Body flushed and nicely prepared to be bred by Ayato’s thick cock. He did it to you. He smirks, power-drunk.

You look at him, getting all drowsy like the night before. The lavender angel won’t be letting you off the hook that easily today, though.

„Daddy?”

He angles himself, smearing the tip of his shaft all over your entrance.

„Ohhh, feels nice, doesn’t it?”

You cry out his name, forgetting to stick to the Daddy pet name rule. He chuckles, languidly pressing inside.

„Yes, Daddy will show you how much he loves you. Just you wait.”

MASTERLIST

Hope you liked my story. If you are interested in the continuation, please make sure to let me know. I won’t bite.

If you enjoy my writing please leave a comment, reblog, visit my blog and interact with me <3 It means a lot and keeps me motivated!

Tagged: @dazaiscum @ainescribe @plumpkie @prnces @ryxmix @ williamaftonsbiggestsimp

#ayato smut #genshin smut #ayato headcanons #ayato scenarios #genshin impact smut #ayato drabbles #ayato genshim impact #kamisato ayato #ayato imagines #ayato x reader #ayato x fem reader #genshin drabbles #genshin scenarios #genshin imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact headcanons

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 4 years

Text

my body is a cage.

ObNeSummary: Y/N’s worst nightmare has become a reality. Her only saving grace is that she doesn’t have to do it alone.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4,000+ [One Shot]

Warning: Feminist Issues, Adult/Mature Themes (NOT smut)

Y/N could feel her heart start racing faster as she studied the doctor’s office. Now she was starting to sweat as well.

Her doctor were running late and that meant Y/N was stuck looking at the nondescript walls and smelling that sterile scent for 20 minutes. It felt like an hour.

It was just a follow-up appointment. There was no bad news expected to be given. But that didn’t stop Y/N’s anxiety.

Y/N finally gave up on trying to calm herself down through breathing and reached down to grab her cellphone out of her purse.

There was a two text message notifications: one from her mom and one from Jason.

She opened the one from Jason.

– Good luck at your appointment today. Remember to breathe.

Y/N smirked at the message. Jason knew how stressed out Y/N got for literally any type of doctor’s appointments. Even if it was just your usual checkup – like today – it caused her anxiety for some reason.

Jason must’ve sent it right before passing out after patrol.

Finally the doctor came in, making Y/N jump and almost drop her phone. She hid her scare well and quickly put her phone back into her purse.

“Hi Y/N, so we finally got your blood work back,” she began.

“Great. Will I be able to get a prescription and pick it up today?” Y/N asked quickly, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible.

“So one of the many reasons we get blood drawn before prescribing this medication is to make sure you’re not pregnant before going on it.” Before Y/N could speak, she quickly added. “You’re test results came back positive.”

Y/N’s mouth opened at the statement.

Her mind was going a million miles a second, trying to process what the doctor has just told her.

When was the last time she had her period?

Why did it feel 20 degrees hotter in here all of the sudden?

This couldn’t be happening. No. No. No. This really couldn’t be happening. She tried so, so hard to make sure this didn’t happen. This was her nightmare. This was her fucking nightmare coming to fucking life.

By some miracle, the doctor didn’t smile with joy and exclaim a congratulations. She seemed to sense that Y/N was on the brink of having an anxiety attack.

“I remember you saying you did’t intend on ever having any kids, so I’m sure this is a lot to process,” the doctor told her gently. “Why don’t we hold off on this medication – even if it’s just for a couple of days? Just give yourself a second to process and come up with a plan.” Then she gave Y/N an encouraging smile. “When you want to make another appointment, I’ll make sure reception squeezes you in. Alright?”

Y/N couldn’t do anything but nod – and even that was far too delayed.

“Do you want me to call someone for you?” The doctor asked softly.

But Y/N shook her head.

When Y/N got out of the doctor’s office and back on the streets of Gotham, she seemed to snap out of it a bit.

Her ears weren’t ringing any longer and the cold, winter air was doing miracles.

‘Get to Jason,’ Y/N’s heart suddenly screamed at her.

And just like that, Y/N went into autopilot, grabbed a cab, and gave them her address. As she watched the buildings go by, Y/N’s mind was simultaneously thinking a million things and thinking nothing at all. It was almost a buzz.

When she got back to her apartment, the TV was on but the volume was off. Sometimes Jason would watch it after patrol and hope it would bore him to sleep. But her giant, vigilante of a boyfriend wasn’t sleeping on the couch, so that meant he was in their bed.

Y/N toed off her shoes, tossed her keys on the side table by the door, and hung her denim jacket – no, Jason’s denim jacket – on the coat rack.

She slowly pushed the bedroom door open to find Jason passed out on his side. His arm was reached over to the other side of the bed as if his body had searched out for hers in his sleep and came up empty.

Y/N tiptoed to the bed and carefully slid into the empty side of the bed.

Jason stayed asleep, meaning he must’ve been really exhausted. Usually her presence would stir him, even if it was just for a few seconds.

Sometimes Y/N would come in here when she got back from work and take a cat nap with him before getting started on dinner or leaving to work out. Sometimes she would just cuddle with him, he would wake up and sleepily ask about her day while bringing her into his – even when she told him to go back to sleep.

Now Y/N laid on her side and watched him sleep.

Even when he looked exhausted and various scars were scattered across his face, Jason Todd was beautiful.

And when he was sleeping like this, he looked so young. Y/N wondered if that was how Jason always looked to Bruce: innocent, vulnerable, forever young.

Y/N reached forward shakily and brushed the white streak of his hair off his face. His hair was getting shaggier than usually allowed. She wondered if he’d ask her to cut it again or if he’d finally listen to her and go to a barber.

“You run your hands through my hair and I’ll be putty in your hands,” he mumbled with his eyes still closed.

Y/N froze and stopped her combing, her hands shooting back to her chest.

Her silence and pause made Jason’s eyes squint open.

Those blue eyes of his were always perception, especially when it came to the woman he loved with all his heart. And as soon as they locked with Y/Ns, they immediately knew that something was wrong.

His brow wrinkled. “You OK?” His voice laced with worry and concern.

Suddenly… Y/N’s mind and body were given the chance to release the reaction they wanted to have since the news was broken.

Her bottom lip trembled a moment before tears burst from her eyes.

And then Y/N was shoving her face into her boyfriend’s chest.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jason consoled. “What happened? What’s going on?”

But Y/N couldn’t even form words. She was fully hyperventilating.

Her chest literally hurt as the sobs escaped. She was shaking as if it was freezing in the room, despite Jason’s body basically being her own personal furnace. And she felt like she was going to throw up at any second.

Was that morning sickness? Or was the just good ol’ fashioned nausea?

Jason quickly realized he wasn’t going to get any verbal communication right now. So he just held her in his arms, letting her cry it out as he rubbed a hand up and down her back.

But his mind was shuffling through all of the possibilities.

Had someone hurt her? Did she get fired? Did a group of assholes catcall her on the way home?

But none of those seemed like things that would upset Y/N in such a manner.

“Breathe, Y/N. Take a deep breath,” he told her calmly as he kissed the top of her head.

She barely gave a nod to show that she was trying to do what he advised.

With her eyes wet and bloodshot from tears and her face swollen, Y/N finally pulled away from Jason’s chest so he could see her.

“Deep breath,” he reminded her again gently. “Can you tell me what’s gotten you so upset? Can you do that for me?”

Y/N sniffled, really just to buy herself a second before she said it.

“I’m pregnant.”

Jason’s body tensed. His eyes studied hers, looking for any sign that she was not being absolutely serious.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Jason muttered, now realizing why she’d had such a reaction.

But then he quickly recovered, realizing that she still needed him because she was freaking the fuck out. Obviously. She just had a full-on panic attack in his arms. And she was probably moments away from possibly having another.

“Hey,” he whispered. “Hey, look at me.”

She took in a deep breath and did as he asked.

“No one is going to make you do anything you don’t want to. OK?”

She just stared at him.

“OK?” He asked again, making sure she understood what he was telling her.

She nodded.

“I don’t want it,” Y/N exhaled.

The words came out on their own, like she had no control over them.

Jason winced, not at her statement, but because she sounded so desperate and scared.

He gave her a sympathetic look and cupped her cheek. “I know, Y/N. I know.”

Then he brought her back into his arms, holding her protectively, as usual – but protecting her from something he never had to before.

“I know how you feel about it. I’ve always did,” he told her softly. “Just try to relax. OK?”

She nodded.

Jason didn’t try to fill the silence. He didn’t try to say comfort after comfort. His touch did more things for Y/N then he words ever did. She needed to be held, not lectured or verbally coddled.

After a few moments, he looked down at her. “We can order from your favorite place, OK? Have a little movie marathon or finish watching that show.”

She gave him a small, shy smile at that.

“Sound good,” he asked.

She nodded again.

———

30 minutes later, Jason was scrolling the internet, researching Planned Parenthood locations while waiting for their takeout to get there.

Y/N, exhausted from her emotional and mental breakdown, had fallen asleep a few minutes after telling Jason the news.

Jason figured the least he could do is take the logistical weight off Y/N’s shoulders. All of this was happening to her and it was his fault. He knew she’d never frame it that way, but that’s how he felt right now. And he’d do anything to make it easier for her.

But all of the sudden, the hairs on the back of Jason’s neck suddenly stood on end.

The next millisecond, he grabbed the nearest hidden gun, shot to his feet, and pointed it at the window.

“Relax, Todd.”

“Demon Spawn, what the fuck are you doing here?” Jason lowered the gun.

To Jason’s annoyance, Damian jumped down from the window and into the apartment, dressed in his full Robin uniform.

“When you texted about covering your patrol tonight, father asked me to check on you.”

Jason narrowed his eyes. “Liar. No, he didn’t.”

“So, why aren’t you on patrol?”

“Y/N needed me.”

Damian’s body tensed.

For as much of hard time as Damian gave Jason, he didn’t mind his girlfriend. However, the preteen would never admit to actually liking her or enjoying time spent with her. But the whole family saw it anyway.

“Is she sick?”

Jason just nodded, not really having the energy to compose a big lie.

Then Damian caught sight of the laptop screen and saw what Jason had been researching.

“Oh,” Damian blurted out without thinking. It was a very unusual reaction from him. He always had something to say.

“Just…keep it to yourself, k?” Jason asked.

The last thing he needed right now was Damian blabbing around about Y/N.

But Damian nodded, not giving any further reaction to his discovery.

———

“What’s Alfred the Cat doing here?” Y/N asked as she cradled the cat and walking into the kitchen the next morning.

“Damian,” was all Jason provided.

Y/N laughed at his crypticness. “Did he need a cat sitter?”

Jason shook his head. “He came snooping when I told them I wasn’t going on patrol. And…Well, he’s Bruce’s kid, so you can imagine how quickly he put it together.”

Y/N’s amusement dropped when she realized what Jason was saying.

“He brought some of human Alfred’s cookies for you, too.” Jason added quickly, maybe to soften the blow a bit.

“That was sweet of him,” was all Y/N mumbled in return.

“I think he was worried about you. Figured some cookies and cuddles from Alfred would make you feel better,” Jason explained. “Of course, he didn’t verbally express any of that because he’s emotionally constipated.”

Y/N managed to force a smirk at the joke.

Silence filled the kitchen.

“I made you an appointment today,” Jason told her gently. “Not that I’m trying to force you to do anything. You can cancel it if you want to. I was just trying to–”

“Thank you,” Y/N cut him off and dropped the cat to wrap Jason in a hug. “Thank you, Jason.” She repeated, mumbled this time, since her face was now buried in his chest.

“Of course,” he told her before kissing her head. “Want some breakfast?”

He chuckled when he felt her nodding enthusiastically against him.

“Your favorite?”

She nodded again.

“You gonna let me go so I can make it?”

She shook her head no.

“Alright, spider monkey, let’s do this.”

Y/N’s laughter filled the room as Jason somehow managed to maneuver her body so she was on his back with her arms wrapped around his neck. And she piggybacked around the kitchen with him as he made them breakfast.

———

“Welp,” Y/N said bitterly as she looked at the building from across the street. “Don’t know how I wasn’t expecting this.”

Jason sighed as he watched too.

There were a dozen people with picket signs. One said, “It’s a child, not a choice.” Another said, “Jesus loves you both.” One of the men had a megaphone. One woman held a box with figurines that inaccurately showed how far along the fetus would be when it’s aborted.

“Wait here,” was all Jason said.

“Wait, what? Jason! Jason, don’t!” Y/N hissed.

But Jason was already halfway across the street. With the traffic and general noice of Gotham, Y/N could hear nothing. But it was clear that he was talking to him.

“Oh, for christ’s sake,” Y/N sighed when she saw all of their faces shift to utter horror. Whatever he was saying to them had clearly terrified them.

It only took a minute before Jason jogged back to her and offered his hand.

“Come on,” he said encouragingly.

“What the fuck did you just do?” She asked him.

“I told them all of their names, social security numbers, and addresses,” Jason told her lightly. “Oh! And their top porn searched.” He gave them a glance. “And said if they even so much as looked at you, I would do what I wanted with that information."

“So…you threatened them.”

Jason tilted his head and shrugged innocently. “I wouldn’t put it that way…”

“Jason…” she groaned.

“I thought you would be proud. I didn’t use physical violence. I’m growing!”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh.

But lo and behold, none of the protesters so much as faced their direction as they walked past.

Y/N wondered how long it took Jason to memorize all that information. Did he ask Tim to hack street cameras and use face recognition to even find all of them?

In the most messed up way, it warmed Y/N’s heart. It just showed a new angle of Jason’s protectiveness. Guess that was just another perk of dating a dangerous vigilante with too many connections and resources.

Besides his little threat, Jason hadn’t let go of Y/N’s hand since they left the apartment – even now, as they sat in the waiting room.

If he was anxious at all, he was doing a beautiful job of hiding it.

Y/N guessed that’s what happened when someone had the history of Jason. This was like a walk in the park for him.

But when they called her name, Y/N looked at Jason with slight panic.

“I can’t go with you. It’s against policy,” he told her softly. “But I’ll be right here when you get out. OK?”

She nodded.

He must’ve learned that when he was doing all his research.

“You good? Huh?” He whispered, keeping eye contact.

She nodded again.

“You’ll be fine,” then he kissed her.

Just as Y/N reached the nurse, she turned to her boyfriend again. “I love you,” she mouthed to him.

“I love you too,” he mouthed back.

———

Y/N had been drained when they finally got back to their apartment.

All she wanted was to take a nap with her boyfriend.

A couple hours later, she had finally had the energy to stay awake.

But neither of them had any interest in getting out of bed. So instead they stayed cuddled close.

“How are you feeling?” Jason asked her.

“Physically or mentally?”

“Both.”

“Physically, fine mostly. Some cramping. They said that was normal. But my period is ten times worse.” Then she sighed. “Mentally…like…I’m in control. Does that make sense?”

Jason nodded.

“And relieved. Fuck,” she half laughed. “I can’t tell you how relieved I am.”

“I’m glad.”

Then Y/N smirked mischievously. “Are you sad you won’t see me wearing those stupid overalls with a baby bump,” then she dramatically fanned her hands, “as we have a montage of us painting a nursery?”

Jason laughed at that. “OK. Well I don’t live in a fucking Lifetime commercial.” Then he smirked. “I’ll take the overalls without the baby bump, though.”

She giggled at that.

“But it’s a real shame we couldn’t have a gender reveal party and burn down all of Gotham accidentally…” Jason thought aloud.

Y/N tried to suppress a smile, “…you do realize the point of those parties is to reveal the baby’s gender and not to burn a city down, right?”

“Well, fuck.” Jason played dumb. “The only appealing part of that was the arson.”

“It would’ve been funny to fuck with people, though.” Y/N’s eyes went distant as she thought about it. “Put in black balloons or just a rainbow assortment. And just see how everyone reacted.”

“Missed opportunity,” Jason sighed.

“Why are traditions so stupid and embarrassing?”

They both laughed.

“I’d have to suffer through a stupid baby shower. And then you’d get to come in at the very end and just wave at everyone. Men really got it made, huh? Just show up, and everyone applauds.”

Jason laughed, knowing she was absolutely right. Enough of the Justice League had kids for him to know that was how it worked.

“Like those videos where dads do their daughter’s hair and everyone loses their mind and praises him. But name one time a video has gone viral of a mom doing her kid’s hair.”

“The bar’s low,” he reminded Y/N.

But then Jason watched Y/N’s smile fall from her face as she got lost in her head.

“What?”

Her brow furrowed. “Do you think I’m a bad person?”

“What?” He gripped her chin. “Absolutely not.”

“I don’t feel bad. There’s no remorse,” Y/N mumbled with as her eyes zoned out. “All I feel is weight lifted off of me.”

“Hey,” his voice was low and serious. “Hey, look at me.”

He waited for her to do what he asked. “You’re not a bad person. You hear me?”

Then he started making himself angry with the thought that anyone would ever tell Y/N otherwise.

“You know what a bad person looks like? Someone who doesn’t take having a child seriously. Someone who makes that decision half-assed, knowing they’re bringing a child into a toxic environment or that they can’t properly take care of them.”

Jason made himself calm down. “That doesn’t make you a bad person. It just proves that you did exactly what you knew was best.”

She nodded, finally convinced by his words.

Y/N reached forward and brushed some hair off his face.

Jason was so god damn handsome. No wonder I got pregnant, she thought darkly. This is exactly how she got into this mess. It was hard just to keep her hands off of him.

“If I ask you something, do you promise you’ll tell me the truth?”

He cocked an eyebrow at her. “I’ll try my best.”

Her eyes twisted into something somber and afraid.

“Do you really never want kids?”

Jason should’ve expected this question at some point.

Even though Y/N didn’t verbalize it, Jason knew that one of her biggest fear throughout all of this was that it would change their relationship. She was scared that he would resent her, that he would change his mind and beg her to keep it.

Maybe it was her tone that was really the thing that caught him off guard. She sounded so scared of what he would say.

Jason rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Not because he wanted to hide the truth by stopping her from staring into his eyes. He just wanted to make sure he collected al of this thoughts. She deserved a proper answer.

“I never planned on being a father,” the statement was unwavering. “You know how my childhood went. And I see the same thing happening to kids all over Gotham today – some of them have it so much worse than I did.”

Y/N reached forward and placed her palm on his chest, right over his heart. Without thinking, his hand went to grip it.

“But you would never be like that,” she assured him. “You’re a good man, Jason. I mean, just look at how you are with Damian – no matter how hard you try to hide your soft spot for that boy.”

“I know I can be a good father. Except before you were in my life, I didn’t know that.”

If he were really tell the truth, he would tell Y/N that without her, there most likely wouldn’t even be a Jason Todd...only Red Hood.

He looked away from the ceiling and back at her. “But that doesn’t want I want to be.”

“So you can honestly say that you never want a family? Even if wasn’t with me?”

“Y/N, look at my family,” Jason laughed. “None of us our related. Bruce is a mess of a father. His biological son was basically artificially inseminated. The butler is more like our grandma who raised us. All of them tried to take me down and imprison me at one point or another...”

He shook his head at the ridiculousness. “The point is that I know more than anyone that family can look like a million different things. And the perfect outline society has forced onto us doesn’t actually mean shit.”

He grinned. “My family is a group of vigilantes who don’t know how to quit.” His eyes softened. “And then there’s you. You’re my family, too. I don’t need add anything else for that to be true.”

Y/N couldn’t help herself and she practically tackled him into a kiss.

Jason gripped her waist and twisted them so she was straddling his waist, and his hands traced up and down the side of her ribcage.

After their lips separate, Y/N looked down at him lovingly.

She let a moment pass.

“What if I changed my mind?”

“I think you and I both know you never will.”

“But what if I did?” She insisted.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I really don’t.”

Y/N just wanted to challenge him. She wanted to go through all the scenarios her mind wouldn’t stop thinking about. She needed answers to the hypothetical scenarios that would never come to be.

“I’m not going to change my mind,” she told him certainly.

“I know, Y/N.”

She kissed him again. “Thank you for supporting me through all of this.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he scoffed. “It’s my fault.”

And he meant it. Most days, Jason had to convince himself he was worthy of her love. What kind of man would be lucky enough to have Y/N as their girl and not do everything in his power to make sure it stayed that way?

“No, it wasn’t,” she corrected him seriously. “It was both of us.”

“You can’t scare me away,” Jason told her. “Nothing is ever gonna stop me from loving you. Got it?”

She nodded.

But before she could say anything more, Jason wrapped her in a heated kiss.

He knew these questions were her anxiety manifesting itself. And Y/N had enough stress for today. So he’d turned off her mind with his touches.

She deserved a break.

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

I don’t know how I managed to write yet another one of these fics. But I realized it was easier to give it a new twist since Jason Todd has a sense of humor and an edge that Bucky Barnes and Steve Rogers do not. Also, he wasn’t raised in the 1930s. lol

Please, please, please let me know if you liked it!!!

If anyone is interested in movies on this topic, I highly recommend these:

Never Rarely Sometimes Always

Unpregnant

4 Months, 3 Weeks, 2 Days

Obvious Child

#jason todd fic #jason todd x reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd reader insert #red hood fic #red hood x reader #red hood reader insert #batfam #batman family #batboys #dc #batman universe #jason todd angst #pro choice #pro-choice #feminism

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spine-buster · 4 years

Text

c a t c h i n g t h e l i g h t | elias pettersson

Summary: Eleven years into the future, Elias and Svea embark on their next adventure. They have tackled everything together in life thus far with the other by their side. Now, it’s time to add someone new.

Word Count: ~13k

A/N: I hope you all enjoy reading this epilogue to Elias and Svea’s story. This style of small snippet scenes was so fun to write and I hope you like it. This sort of acts as an update on Brock and Grace’s story 11 years into the future as well! Regardless, I love these two so much.

CW: difficult birth

11 years later. ___

“I’m ready,” Svea said one night when she and Elias were in the car alone, driving home from the Parkinson’s Foundation of British Columbia Gala that they’d been to every year for almost fifteen years now, hosted by Grace. They were holding hands across the centre console.

Elias knew he had to keep his eyes on the road since it was dark outside, but he made sure to look over at his wife. It was so out of the blue that he knew exactly what she meant. “You’re ready?” he asked, wanting to make sure he heard correctly.

She squeezed his hand gently as she nodded. “I’m ready.”

>< >< >< >< ><

“So you guys are trying?” Grace asked as she sipped on her iced coffee in the quaint coffee shop in Yaletown. She rocked Dukey in his stroller, now almost 18 months old and in his prime chubby glory, though he was already fast asleep and had been since the car ride in. The kid could sleep, that was for sure. It was a nice reprieve from all the sleepless nights he cost Grace and Brock at the beginning.

“Officially. Yes,” Svea nodded her head. She was already on special prenatal vitamins. Already off her birth control. Already monitoring her ovulation cycle. Already had a checkup with her doctor to make sure everything was in order. Already having sex with Elias nearly every moment of the day she could fit it in. Not that either of them complained about that point. Almost twelve years later of marriage and they were still insatiable for each other. Elias still joked they had to make up for lost time. “I’m not a fertile youngin’ like you were but I’m hoping it happens just as fast,” she commented.

Grace nodded her head. “I’m just a baby-making machine at this point, so ask me any question you want. You know nothing is off limits with me, or us.”

***

“Fill me up, Elias. Fill me up with your cum.”

Elias groaned at Svea’s words. He grabbed her hair and pulled her towards him so her back was flush against his chest, pounding into her at a different angle now as he felt close to his release too. He licked and bit at the skin of her neck before dragging his lips up to her ear. “You want my cum, pretty girl?”

“My pussy needs your hot cum, Elias. Please. Please. Fuck me deep. Fuck a baby into me.”

He snaked an arm around to her hot core and began rubbing at her clit, and after a few frenzied gasps and moans, Svea felt him explode inside of her, filling her up like she so craved and making her feel the greatest pleasure she had ever known. Her orgasm coursed throughout her whole body and made her knees weak – literally – as they slipped further and further apart. She would have almost fell back down face first onto the mattress if it wasn’t for Elias holding her up and letting her fall back onto his body instead. As they lay on their bed catching their breaths, his cock was still inside her as it softened. “Happy birthday, Elias,” she mumbled as she kissed him. This was only round two, and they were planning to go all night.

***

“Are you serious? You just went to the washroom like fifteen minutes ago,” Brock pestered Svea playfully as she stuck her tongue out at him, quickly walking into the washroom at the mall.

Elias was looking down at his phone. Pregnancy symptoms, he’d googled.

Increased urination. You might find yourself urinating more often than usual. The amount of blood in your body increases during pregnancy, causing your kidneys to process extra fluid that ends up in your bladder.

***

“Svea, you love isterband! You can’t get enough of it!” Elias protested.

“Did we get a bad batch? It smells heinous.”

“It smells delicious!” he protested. What she was saying was unbelievable to him. Usually, she had to be told to stop eating the delicious Swedish style sausage, especially when they were back in Ånge or Sundsvall having it, and especially when it was a homemade variety. But now she was making gagging noises.

“I’m gonna go to our room until it’s done,” she said as she got up from her seat at the dining table. Immediately, Stella got up and followed her. “Call me when it’s ready. Hopefully it will smell less heinous by then.”

Elias watched her and Stella walk away. He took out his phone again and opened up the internet, still on the same tab from more than a week ago at the mall with Brock and Grace.

Food aversions. When you're pregnant, you might become more sensitive to certain odors and your sense of taste might change. Like most other symptoms of pregnancy, these food preferences can be chalked up to hormonal changes.

“Sveeeeeaaaaa!” he called out.

***

Svea was holding Elias.

She let him cry. It was important to let him cry.

His face was nestled onto her stomach, and had been there for at least fifteen minutes. His arms were wrapped around her. Every so often, she’d feel him move to kiss her bare skin, and she’d be able to feel the wetness from his tear-stained cheeks.

“I’m so happy,” he mumbled. He’d been saying that since they got home from the doctor’s office, but there was something about this time, right now, that made Svea’s heart swell a thousand times its size. His tone, the softness, the tears, the position – everything was working in a way that made her so emotional. “I’m so, so happy,” he repeated.

“Me too,” she whispered, running her fingers through his hair slightly.

“I’m going to be a dad,” he said. He looked her in the eye. “I’m going to be a dad and you’re going to be a mom.”

She nodded slowly.

***

“So all the fucking worked, then,” Grace winked from the sink.

“You’re so crass,” Svea giggled as Dukey screamed at her for more food. He already had a grape in each chubby hand and was eyeing the scrambled eggs on Svea’s spoon like it was a filet mignon. She brought it towards him and he opened his mouth easily to eat it. “But yes, it all worked.”

“I mean, you guys fuck all the time so I wouldn’t be surprised. You guys still fuck like you’re in your twenties.”

“You’re really comfortable saying the f-word in front of your 18 month old.”

“He doesn’t understand words yet,” Grace dismissed her quickly, causing Svea to snort.

“And who are you to call me out? Clearly you and Brock still fuck like you’re in your twenties too,” Svea whispered the word fuck, referring to Grace and Brock’s giant brood.

“Are you guys going to find out what you’re having?” Grace asked.

Svea shook her head. “We both want it to be a surprise.”

“It’s more fun that way,” Grace agreed. “I’m betting on a boy.”

***

“Can you see it?” Svea asked as she looked at herself in the mirror, her body in a fitted dress. She switched to a side profile to see if she could see her bump better. It was small, and barely noticeable, but it was there.

“I can,” Elias nodded, coming up behind her.

“Do you think other people will see it?” she asked. “I want to show it off.”

Elias smiled. “Show it off?” he asked.

Svea nodded. “Grace said she think I’m going to be all belly – you know, like one of those women who just grows out instead of, like, around. I waited so long to have one. Now that I do, I want everyone to know.”

Elias’s smile overtook his face.

***

“Look at you!” Grace winked as Svea approached her, her bump styled in a tight dress that showed off the small but noticeable curve forming. “Work it, Svea!” Svea danced a little bit, boogieing from side to side as Grace began to do the same. Elias and Brock rolled their eyes at each other but smiled, too, their wives completely ignoring them at this point. “I was right, too! You’re all bump!” Grace exclaimed.

“For now,” Svea smiled. “I feel wider.”

“You don’t look it, but it doesn’t matter. Get as wide and as big as you want, woman. You’re pregnant with a baby.”

“And ask Petey to go and get you cans of tuna in olive oil at 2:30 in the morning,” Brock quipped. Grace shot him a look. “Five times,” he added for dramatic effect.

***

“You want some, Elias?” Svea asked as she stuffed a spoonful of strawberry flavoured frozen yogurt into her mouth.

“I’m okay,” he shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “You have what you want.”

“You sure?”

Elias nodded. He looked over at the clock – 3:00 in the morning. He had a practice tomorrow and she had work. But she had to have some strawberry frozen yogurt. She just had to. She needed it. Which is why Elias put on his winter jacket and a pair of shoes – but kept his pajama pants on – at 2:30 in the morning and made his way to their local 24-hour supermarket, buying her favourite frozen yogurt so she could eat it. It was all worth it, now that she was digging into it – sitting cross-legged on the bed, belly showing through her pajama shirt, eyes rolling to the back of her head every time she ate a spoonful. Now he realized what Brock meant. “It’s okay, pretty girl.”

“Just one spoon,” she said, already scooping it. She held it out to him and he smiled before he ate the spoonful. “Is it good?” she asked.

He nodded. “It’s better at three in the morning.”

She couldn’t help but giggle. She had the best husband. She wasn’t sure if others would have gone and gotten her frozen yogurt in the middle of the night. “I love you, Elias.”

“I love you too. Now give me another spoonful.”

***

“I love your cock so much Elias, fuck,” Svea sighed out.

He was much gentler these days. They both were. The doctor said it was completely safe and healthy but Elias was still…cautious. But when Svea woke up that morning placing small kisses on his shoulder, and then reached over and slipped her hand down his pajama pants, he couldn’t help himself. So he flipped around to face her, and they kissed, and kissed, and kissed, and he teased her already wet pussy with his fingers, and he hooked her leg over his torso and slipped into her easily, the both of them sighing, the both of them savouring the intimacy.

“Does it feel good?” he asked. She nodded quietly. “Does it feel different?”

“A little bit,” she nodded again, biting her bottom lip. “But a good different.”

Elias thrust harder. Svea let out a gasp. “I could bury my cock in your pussy all day,” he huffed out.

That made Svea smirk. “I’d let you.”

***

“You have to be patient.”

“I can’t be patient.”

“Well, you have to be.”

“You’ve been feeling them for a week now! I haven’t!”

“Just. Be. Patient.”

“But Svea—”

“Elias—”

They both stopped the second they felt it. It happened right where Elias’s hand rested on her growing belly. He almost couldn’t believe it happened at first, because to him, the feeling was so new. But when he realized what had just happened, and the magnitude of it, he looked up at Svea. She was already smiling. “Did you feel that?” he asked.

She nodded. “Poke where they just kicked. Trust me.”

Elias did as he was told. He poked. And poked again. Then he placed his hand on the spot.

He felt another kick.

Svea could hear a sharp intake of breath. When she looked at him next, he was already looking at her with tears welled in his eyes. “Svea…” he managed to get out, his voice cracking.

“I know, Elias. I know.”

A tear fell down his face.

***

“Svea, can I touch your belly?” Violet Boeser looked up at Svea, swaying her dress from side to side.

“Me too!” Rose Boeser joined in.

“Me three!” Lily Boeser pushed her sister to the side.

“Me four!” Poppy Boeser squeezed her way in. “Svea can I feel the baby?”

“Be gentle!” Grace called out from the picnic table. In the distance, Brock and Elias were barbecuing the hamburgers and hot dogs. Coolie, Milo, and Stella were all sunbathing near the barbecue. “Svea isn’t a science experiment!”

Svea snorted. “Yes girls, you can all feel the baby,” she smiled. Immediately, each of the girls’ hands covered her bump. Rose even put her head against her bump briefly. “The baby isn’t kicking right now but they might soon now that they feel all your hands,” Svea said.

“Are you having a boy or a girl?” Violet asked.

“I don’t know yet, Violet! It’s going to be a surprise.”

“Baaaaaaaa!” Dukey Boeser yelled from the picnic table. Once Grace set him down, he ran over to Svea as well, not wanting to feel left out now that his four older sisters were doing something he wasn’t. He put his tiny hands on top of Poppy’s and looked up at Svea. “Baaaaaa! Ba ba baby!”

“Yes! There’s a baby!” Svea grinned.

“And I’m gonna babysit!” Violet said.

“Me too!” Rose followed.

“Me three!” Lily joined.

“Me four!” Poppy finished it out, like she always did.

***

“Your placenta is a bit low, but it’s nothing to worry about,” the doctor said as she looked at Svea. “Have you been feeling any changes lately?”

“A lot more fatigue, to be honest,” Svea confessed. “I push through it because I’m still working, but when I get home I, like, barely move.”

The doctor nodded his head. “That’s normal. Fatigue in the second trimester is common. We’ll continue to monitor symptoms and monitor your placenta but it shouldn’t be a problem. But if symptoms get any worse, we’ll put you on bedrest.”

“Bedrest?”

“Bedrest. For your health. And the health of the baby.”

***

“Should we start thinking about names?” Svea asked as she lay on the couch, her head in Elias’s lap as he ran his fingers through her hair. Stella was sleeping in between her legs, letting out soft snores. “Do we want super-Swedish or super…something else?”

“This is going to be the hardest part, I think,” Elias commented before offering any suggestions. “I think something that translates well into both languages is best, don’t you think?”

Svea nodded her head. Whereas Fanny and Emil chose pretty traditional Swedish sounding names for their three boys, she knew they’d have to go the “translatable” route because of their Canadian/Swedish lifestyle. “Do you like Linnea?” she asked.

“I do, but I think it’s too popular in Sweden. I want something nice but something that stands out. There will be five other Linnea’s in her class,” Elias mused.

“So that’s Milo down the drain too, then…” Svea giggled slightly. “What about Freya?”

“Too…mythological.”

“Ivar?”

“No.”

“What about Astrid? I was going to be named Astrid, you know.”

Elias nodded. “I like Astrid. Astrid is good. Do you like Oskar?”

Svea nodded. “What about Erland, like your grandpa?”

“That’s a good middle name.”

***

Babysitting Violet, Rose, Lily, Poppy, and Dukey was good practice for Elias and Svea. They’d been doing it, really, since Violet was born, and then when Rose was added, and Lily was added, and Poppy was added, and Dukey was added…well, it all just became routine. The girls were great, and they put frilly headbands on Elias and did his makeup more times than they could count now. His favourite look was the blue and green eyeshadow they’d created, stolen from mommy’s collection in her room. The Canucks colours, obviously. He’d even posted the finished product on Instagram.

The girls also never had any trouble with bedtime, even when they were much smaller. But nowadays, Dukey did. Entering his “terrible twos” was proving to be quite the interesting time. But with the girls already in bed, it was easy for Elias and Svea to deal with him separately.

After tiring him out, Elias tried rocking him to get him to fall asleep, but he was still fussy. He kept reaching out to Svea. So Elias transferred him over, and Svea held him in her arms. “Whatsa matter?” she asked him in a sweet voice. “Does Dukey want to fall asleep?”

He fussed around for a bit more before settling down, laying his head on Svea’s shoulder. He was looking down, his face in a pout. “Baby,” he said, pointing lazily down to her bump. “Baby.”

“Yes, there’s a baby,” Svea cooed, rubbing his back. His eyes almost immediately began to droop. “But Dukey is a big boy now.”

“Yaaaaa. Dukey big boy.”

Elias watched as she continued to rub his back and coo sweet words to him as Dukey fell asleep in her arms. His hands were almost shaking, thinking about how in a few short months, they’d be doing the same thing for their own child.

***

Midsommar. Svea’s favourite time of year.

And now time for an impromptu baby shower.

Elias’s family tradition of renting a big tent on the lake was still going strong, and now, with so many new cousins and family members, the party was bigger and better than ever. Svea’s family and Elias’s family decided to incorporate a small celebration for the impending baby.

With her flower crown adorned on her head and some special gifts already opened, Elias sat down beside his wife and held her hand underneath the table. “Remember when we were young? What you did to me on the banks of the lake?”

She side eyed him. “Don’t even think about it.”

***

“Give me your hands, Svea, fuck,” Elias moaned as he watched her rock back and forth on top of him. She did as she was told, grabbing his hands to brace against so she could keep doing what she was doing. As she rocked herself back and forth, getting closer and closer to her climax, she tightened her grip on his hands. “Does it feel good, pretty girl?”

Svea nodded. “D’you still like what you see?”

“Always Svea. Always.”

***

Grace had gone all out. She was the perfect person to host Svea’s Vancouver baby shower when she returned from Sweden almost double the size from when she left. She’d invited the Canucks wives and girlfriends to her house. She’d had her sunroom and backyard decorated in the most adorable Peter Rabbit themed décor. Stella was dressed up with rabbit ears. She’d even thought of the cutest, most perfect party favours – mini champagne bottles with “She’s About to Pop!” adorned on it. And not the cheap champagne bottles, either. This was Grace.

Too bad Svea couldn’t have any.

Svea usually didn’t like being the centre of attention, but she was having the best time being the centre of attention at her baby shower. She opened her gifts, she played the games, she laughed her head off at the game where the girls had to measure her girth.

After pictures with the guests, Svea sat down in her chair. “This was the cutest baby shower,” Holly Horvat commented to her, nibbling on the last bit of her cupcake. “But you know what?”

“What?”

“Remember that movie Bridesmaids? Remember how they had puppies as the party favours?”

Svea giggled. “Yeah.”

“Grace should have gotten us all cute little bunnies.”

***

“So the rumours are true. You’re pregnant.”

Svea looked up from her phone to see Trevor waiting down the bar for his coffee, staring right at her as she finished telling the barista her order. From behind her, one of her co-workers muttered an ‘Ew’ at the sight of him. With good reason, since Trevor was Svea’s political arch-enemy. They came up in the political world at the same time, got promotions around the same time, and were forced to work in conjunction with one another – but never actually together. And they never got along, ever.

“Yes. I am,” Svea nodded her head once. “Fancy seeing you here, by the way. Isn’t your office on the other side of town?”

“We travel all over the city,” he said. His smarmy smile made her blood boil. He grabbed his coffee and made his way towards her. “Congratulations, by the way. I wish Elias a lot of luck. He’s going to need it.”

“Just like you after we decimated you in the election, I assume.”

His smarmy smile left his face.

***

The Boeser girls got so excited by the flashing lights in the arena, the season opener in full swing. They were clapping and screaming and jumping around on their jerseys as the announcer began to announce the team, knowing that their dad would be near the beginning because of his number six.

“At number six, Brrrrrroooock, Booooeeeseeerrr!” the announcer roared, the crowd roaring as well as the girls screamed at the top of their lungs for their dad. Dukey was clapping too, balanced on Grace’s hip and in his own little jersey. Svea couldn’t help but smile.

Eventually, when they got to Elias, she knew the camera would pan to her. A member of the press corps had seen her earlier. And while she and Elias never made a formal announcement on Instagram or anywhere else in terms of her pregnancy, it was now out in the open – especially since that reporter asked about it during the media scrum earlier that day. “Your wife Svea is pregnant now; is the focus at the beginning of this season for you on hockey or on the things happening at home?”

The audacity of that question being asked made her head spin.

Lily had already wrapped her arms around Svea’s legs, and like clockwork, they were shown on the jumbotron clapping. At that point, the 20,000-plus fans in the arena could see she was seven months pregnant. The bump protruded through the jersey. And when the fans realized, they got noticeably louder. Like, louder louder. Cheering, whistling, smiling – so much so it sent shivers down Svea’s spine.

She smiled from ear to ear.

***

“Happy birthday, my beautiful wife,” Elias mumbled against Svea’s lips. He’d been kissing her, slow and sensual, but also quick and fast – every type of kiss, really – for the last fifteen minutes. He’d just made her a homemade dinner, and now he was ready for, uh, dessert.

“This time next year I’ll be a mom to a ten-month-old,” she mused.

Elias smiled. “It feels like just yesterday that we surprised Grace and Brock,” he said.

“It’s been twelve years.”

“Still feels like yesterday,” Elias kissed her again. “My moon, my stars, my Svea.”

***

“I think it’s cutting it too close,” Elias mused as they lay in bed together, Svea’s bump widening the distance between them.

“Elias, I’m only thirty-six weeks,” Svea rationalized. “My mom carried Sigrid to almost 42 weeks and me right to 40. This baby isn’t coming out anytime soon.”

“But you’ve…grown so much in the last few weeks,” he said, laying a hand on the bump. “And you’ve been so tired, and the doctor’s appointments have to be weekly because of that and I just don’t—”

“Elias—”

“It’s fifteen days, Svea. I’ll just let them know it’s too close.”

“Elias,” Svea said sternly. “You’re going to the East Coast and that’s that. You’re going to get back and we’re going to celebrate your birthday and then we’re going to have this baby. In that order.”

***

If you looked, if you really looked at the video, you could see Elias being called off the bench at the beginning of the third period.

The announcers mentioned it after the fact. And when play stopped about two minutes later, they were able to show the replay. They went through some major points of his shift, spoke about how good it was, and then showed how he skated back to the bench and sat down. About fifteen seconds later, someone came barreling through the tunnel and was screaming Elias’s name, waving him over to get off the bench. Elias complied. The analysts wondered – there was no hit, no scuffle, no trip, no high stick, no fall, seemingly no injury, no penalty at all or anything even worth a penalty during the play, and a perfectly healthy Elias Pettersson was being rushed off the bench? What was going on?

The camera stayed on Elias speaking to the man in the tunnel. Nobody could lip read but everybody could see Elias run down the tunnel once the man spoke.

“What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

“You need to get back to Vancouver. It’s Svea. She’s been rushed to the hospital and she’s lost a lot of blood.”

He was a six hour flight away in Florida.

***

There was blood everywhere. All over their bed. All over their sheets.

Svea called an ambulance. She called Grace screaming and wailing into the phone. She called her mom in Sweden crying. The pain was almost too much. The contractions were too. When the paramedics came, she was loaded into an ambulance and rushed to the hospital. “My husband. You need to call my husband. He’s in Florida playing hockey. He needs to be here. He—He—the baby—the baby—the baby—”

***

It was the worst six hours of Elias’s life. Eight hours really, from leaving the rink to getting off the plane and rushing to the hospital. Grace called in the last minutes before the flight took off to update him. Svea had placenta previa. That’s why there was so much spontaneous blood loss. The doctors had stopped the bleeding, but she’d needed a blood transfusion. It went fine. But now she was in labour. At 37 weeks.

“It’ll have to be a c-section,” Grace explained. “There was too much blood loss and too big a risk for more blood loss for a vaginal birth like Svea wanted. And I don’t – Petey – she will probably need a hysterectomy.”

“Hysta-what? What’s that?”

“They’re going to have to remove her uterus, Petey. This baby is going to be your only baby.”

***

Elias rushed to put on the scrubs provided by the nurses. He rushed to get back into the delivery room knowing that Svea had already had a blood transfusion. He rushed to be in the room to watch the doctor operate – literally operate on his wife – so that Svea could deliver the baby safely and have her hysterectomy.

***

Margot Pettersson.

They named her Margot Pettersson.

After all the blood, the fear, the frantic phone calls, the six-hour flight, the surgery, the operation – Margot was here. And she was healthy.

It took everything within Elias not to break down crying as he held her in his arms and lay in the hospital bed with Svea, who was recovering well considering the trauma and how much blood she lost. They couldn’t take their eyes off their daughter. She was perfect in every way, from the blonde hair on her head to her tiny, tiny, tiny little toes.

She was finally here.

***

It was a few days later when Svea felt confident enough to be in a photo – she didn’t “look like death” anymore, as she put it. Elias sent it to his teammates. He was on some brief phone calls with the powers that be on the Canucks for a statement and for some time off.

When he rejoined Svea in their hospital room as she fed Margot, he sat on the bed and wrapped an arm around his girls. “The bed,” she said suddenly, looking at him. “We have to buy a new bed. I can’t sleep in that bed anymore. All I’ll see is blood.”

“Grace and Brock already took care of it,” he said. “Everything is going to be fine when we get back home. I promise.”

***

The Vancouver Canucks organization would like to extend their congratulations to Elias and Svea Pettersson on the birth of their daughter, Margot. Mrs. Pettersson continues to recover in the hospital. Elias will be a healthy scratch for the next four games to ensure the health and well-being of his family.

***

Svea was on bed rest in their new bed, Stella’s snout resting on her post-partum belly. Elias never wanted to let go of Margot unless it was to put her back in Svea’s arms. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her, either. Even when Svea was breastfeeding. He found it to be the most beautiful thing in the world, watching his wife, who he loved so much, feeding and nourishing his daughter, who he loved so much.

He cuddled with them, snuggling into Svea’s side as he watched Margot. The little sounds she was making brought a smile to his face. He brought his hand up and caressed her head gently, the blonde hair atop her head perfectly combed.

“I finally have boobs now,” Svea whispered.

Elias snorted and Svea had a cheeky smile on his face. “I’ve always loved your boobs. Big or small.”

“Hmm, don’t I know it,” she hummed, giving him another kiss. She looked down at her daughter. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?”

“In every way.”

***

Elias’s birthday was much quieter this year. Well, quieter in the sense that there weren’t any friends in his house; quieter in the sense that he wasn’t at some hip restaurant downtown eating an incredibly expensive steak while sipping on an incredibly expensive glass of wine while he wore an incredibly expensive outfit and an incredibly expensive watch, watching his beautiful and sexy wife in an incredibly expensive dress sip sultrily on an incredibly expensive glass of wine as she eyed him up and grazed his leg with her heel under the table.

But this was still his favourite birthday ever.

Sitting on the couch, a warm bottle of pumped breastmilk in his hands, feeding his eight-day-old daughter.

His life was perfect.

***

“She looks like Petey,” Brock said as he held a swaddled Margot in his arms.

“They have to biologically, you know,” Grace jumped in. “But my god you two, her eyes are so damn blue. I mean I know that’s the Swedish thing and all, but they’re sooo blue.”

“I know,” Elias smiled. “Even the doctor mentioned it during one of her checkups. She’ll have a beautiful set of eyes, that’s for sure. Just like her mom.”

Svea swooned. She watched as Brock craned his neck down and placed a quick kiss atop Margot’s head. “Getting baby fever again, Brock?” she winked at him.

“No no no, five is plenty,” he chuckled. “I just love that newborn baby smell.”

Svea, Elias, and Grace let out the all-knowing “Oooooh” sound in agreement. “You’re so right, babe,” Grace nodded. “It’s the best smell in the world.”

***

“God, I missed this,” Svea said as she took a huge gulp of crisp, clean Vancouver air. It was her first time outside with Stella in weeks, now that she was off bedrest and fully recovered from her c-section and hysterectomy. Her doctor had okayed light physical activity, so she’d invited Grace and Dukey over for a short walk around the neighbourhood. Grace had obviously agreed, and had brought Coolie and Milo along.

“Me too. You’ll be back running and doing yoga in no time,” Grace said, remembering some of their jaunts over the years where Grace would bring out Violet, or Rose, or Lily, or Poppy on walks or runs in their strollers too. When she finished strapping Duke in, and made sure he had his snacks, she rose to her feet. “You feel good?”

Svea nodded. “We just have to go slow. And I can do maximum half an hour.”

“I’ll go as slow as you want me to,” Grace said. She peeked into Margot’s stroller and noticed she was already asleep. Her son, on the other hand, was screaming about his grapes. “Let’s hope Dukey’s grapes last the entire time.”

***

Did Elias and Svea go all out for Margot’s first Christmas? Yes.

Did Svea dress her up in a red dress, green shoes, frilly headband, and reindeer antlers? Yes.

Did Svea dress her up in an elf outfit, complete with curled shoes? Yes.

Was there a portrait with the new family and Santa Claus? Yes.

Did Elias and Svea send the pictures to their family members, co-workers, and every teammate? Yes.

Did it get leaked to the media? Yes.

***

“She’s gonna start her chubby phase soon,” Brock said as he held Margot in his arms, feeding her with a bottle, as Elias sautéed some mushrooms on a skillet as part of their lunch. “She’s eighteen weeks now?”

“Yeah.”

“It’s the best,” Brock said. “They got so chunky. So squishy. I swear I went crazy for every one of them.”

“Margot was born at 37 weeks though. We might have to wait a little bit longer.”

“Well, call me the second you start noticing chunk,” Brock said. “I’ll be over here in a heartbeat.”

***

“There was a lot of blood.”

Elias held Svea in his arms as they lay down in bed together after one of Margot’s middle-of-the-night feedings. Margot had been really fussy and took a while to be put down and fall asleep again; Svea had been unable to go back to sleep herself once she was in bed, tossing and turning and not even being able to keep her eyes closed. Even Elias’s cuddling wasn’t helping, which meant something was on her mind and keeping her restless. So he’d asked her what was wrong.

And that’s what she responded with.

He knew immediately what she meant. Ever since that day, when he was called off the bench and rushed back to Vancouver, he’d beaten himself up for not being there, as a husband should have been for his wife, as she went through such a traumatic event. It traumatized him, but that didn’t even take into consideration how much it traumatized her. That’s what really mattered here. She still had to deal with it. She still had to see it in her mind when she closed her eyes. She had the memory, not him.

It killed Elias inside knowing Svea had to carry that burden with her.

“You were so strong, though. And your strength gave us our daughter,” he said.

Svea nodded slightly before she looked at her husband. “Were you scared? When they told you, I mean. When you were rushed off the bench.”

Elias nodded his head immediately. “I was terrified.”

“Of what?”

“That I was going to lose you and the baby,” he admitted. “Were you scared?”

“I was,” Svea said. “Do you…are…are you angry we can only have one?”

“Why would I be angry?” he was beside himself at her question.

“I don’t know. I just…are you angry we didn’t have a boy? Or that we can’t have a son in the future? Or another daughter? Are you angry I wasn’t healthy enough to—”

“Stop it right now,” he ordered. Tears were falling down his face at her words. “You’ve given me everything I’ve ever wanted and needed in my life. Do you understand me? Everything.”

Svea was crying now too. “You’ve just been so good to me, Elias. I want to give you everything too, like you always give me.”

“You already have,” he whispered, kissing her, feeling her tear-stained cheeks on his.

***

“You want to hold the baby, Violet?” Svea asked quietly as the Boeser girls looked at tiny Margot resting in Svea’s arms. Violet nodded her head desperately and outstretched her hands automatically. “You have to sit on the couch, baby girl,” Svea said, and Violet did as she was told.

Svea extended her arms and passed Margot to her slowly. “Put your arm up,” she said. “You have to support her head.” Violet nodded. Margot fussed a little bit, but once she was in Violet’s arms, she stopped.

Violet smiled. “Hello Margot,” she said in a soft voice, smiling.

“Hello Margot,” Rose mimicked in the same voice.

“Hello Margot,” Lily mimicked in the same voice.

“Hello Margot,” Poppy mimicked in the same voice.

All at the same time, the girls leaned forward and placed light kisses onto Margot’s face.

Svea couldn’t help but smile from ear to ear.

***

“Look at my beautiful baby girl,” Elias cooed as he finished changing Margot’s diaper, buttoning up her little onesie as she wiggled on the change table, looking up at him with her big blue eyes. “Hällo Margot! Hällo!”

She gurgled happily. Elias chuckled as he finished the last of the buttons, eventually scooping her up in his arms carefully and holding her against his chest. She settled in quickly, calming herself down as Elias walked from her nursery to his bedroom. Just as he walked in, Svea walked out of their ensuite bathroom with a robe on, drying her hair with a towel. When she saw her husband and daughter, she smiled automatically.

“Hello my loves,” she whispered, approaching them slowly. At the sight of Svea, Margot gurgled happily again, even waving her arms up and down once excitedly. “Hello Margot! Hello my beautiful baby!”

“Beautiful baby had a stinky diaper this morning,” Elias griped jokingly.

Svea laughed, placing a light kiss on top of Svea’s head. “Making daddy change the stinky ones? Good baby.”

***

Margot’s first game, after she got all of her appropriate vaccinations, was against the Toronto Maple Leafs. Elias and Svea made sure to go to the arena early so that his teammates could see her before the game. Even Elias’s friend William Nylander from the Leafs was able to pop over and congratulate the couple. Svea appreciated the gesture, since she knew how busy he was.

“Oh my Gooooooddddd,” Holly cooed as she saw Margot dressed up in a little Vancouver Canucks jersey. “The baby jersey! The baby jersey! Can Gunnar be this small again?!”

Svea laughed as Holly clutched at her heart. Bo smiled from ear to ear when he noticed, too. “She’s adorable, Svea.”

“Thanks, Bo.”

“Bo, remember when Gunnar was that small?” Holly asked her husband. She then wrapped her arms around his one arm, looking up at him sweetly. “Can we have another one, Bo? Please?”

“Holly.”

***

Svea hauled some of the grocery bags – the lighter ones, at least – inside the house. She would leave the other ones for Elias. He’d probably get angry that she brought in the light groceries, anyway. He always brought things in – ever since her surgery, at least. But she was feeling almost back to normal now, and she wanted to start contributing more again.

“Elias?” she called out. No answer. She set the grocery bags down in the laundry room and made her way into their house. “Elias?” she called out again.

It was only then when he heard loud, screaming giggles coming from the family room. Following the giggles, Svea heard the sound of raspberries being blown against skin, and an orchestra of loud, happy giggles again, this time from both Margot and Elias.

She smiled to herself. As she walked further into the house, turning a corner, she looked into the family room to find Elias on his knees in front of the couch, Margot on the cushion in between his arms in just a diaper, and him blowing raspberries on her tummy. Margot was laughing and wiggling in pure happiness. And when Svea’s presence caught Elias’s eye, he looked up. “Hey baby,” he smiled, before diving in one more time to blow raspberries.

Svea’s heart swelled.

***

“You and Elias deserve a nice Valentine’s Day date,” Grace said before taking a sip of her water. “How about Brock and I watch Margot for the night and you two go out for a nice dinner?”

Svea loved the idea, but she was still a bit apprehensive. It would be the first night away from Margot. And though she trusted Brock and Grace more than anyone else in Vancouver with Margot, it would still be a lot for her, at least mentally. She assumed it would be the same for Elias. “I’ll mention it to Elias, and we’ll think about it,” she said.

Grace eyed her. “Don’t think about it, just do it. I know it’s hard to think about, but time away from the baby will do you both some good. It’s necessary. It’s healthy. It’s hard but it’s healthy.”

***

“This steak is delectable,” Svea commented as she forked another slice of her filet into her mouth.

Elias nodded from across the table. “The wine, too. It was a good choice,” he said before he took a sip. He looked lovingly at his wife and smiled before he set his wine glass down. “D’you miss Margot like I do?”

Svea giggled and nodded her head. “I do. But I’m enjoying our Valentine’s Day date,” she said. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else in the world.”

“Me neither,” he reached across the table to grab her hand.

***

Elias and Stella walked into the bedroom quietly, Elias holding mugs of tea in both hands. He saw Svea sitting up, looking down peacefully at Margot whom she was breastfeeding. Svea grabbed the mug from Elias and took a quick sip before setting it down on the nightstand. Elias climbed into the bed, Stella following, and nestled in close with his two girls, gently stroking Margot’s blonde hair.

“Thank you for the tea,” Svea said softly, looking at him before pursing her lips slightly, signaling she wanted a kiss.

Elias gave her one easily. His lips lingered on hers, giving her small, quick kisses. “You’ve given me everything I’ve ever wanted,” he whispered huskily. “The least I could do is bring you tea.”

“Hmmm,” Svea hummed happily. “Can I suggest some other things you can do tonight?”

Elias smirked.

***

“Look here little Margot! Look here!” the photographer cooed as her assistant jingled some bells to get the attention of the baby, dressed up in the cutest little dress and tights. Margot babbled slightly and smiled at the noise. Elias could hear the shutter of the camera go off like crazy.

“Her eyes are showing up spectacularly on camera,” the photographer commented. “What a beautiful colour they are.”

Elias and Svea continued to smile throughout the photoshoot. Then, when they had to take a break, they changed Margot into a different outfit and went outside to take some more pictures. After a second break, they changed Margot into her last outfit before going to their bedroom and finishing the photoshoot.

“The photos should be ready for you in a few weeks, after editing,” the photographer said as she packed away her equipment. By this point, Margot was fast asleep on Elias’s shoulder, her chubby cheeks amplified. “She’s a cutie, you guys. I mean, just adorable.”

Elias smiled, placing a soft kiss atop Margot’s head. “She’s my little princess.”

***

At a cute little café in Yaletown, Svea pushed her stroller back and forth to rock Margot to sleep. Svea hadn’t gotten any sleep last night thanks to her daughter, and Elias being away on a road trip didn’t help matters. Svea knew babies went through sleep regression – Margot had been a fantastic sleeper, save for the last two weeks – but she wondered how long this would last. She was trying everything she could, but Margot wasn’t sleeping.

When Grace arrived without any of her kids in tow, looking especially stylish with a cute hat and thigh-high boots, Svea waved her down. Grace waved back and waited in line to order her coffee.

“You look like you haven’t slept,” Grace commented as she set her coffee down on the table and sat in the seat opposite Svea.

“That’s because I haven’t,” Svea admitted. She hadn’t even bothered to put on makeup this morning. “Margot kept me up all night. She was so fussy, Grace.”

Grace furrowed her brows. “Do you have milk with you?” she asked.

Svea nodded. “Of course I do. In the bag.”

Grace nodded, getting up from her seat. “Come on. We’re going home.”

“Wait—what—”

“We’re going back to my house, and you’re sleeping, and I’ll watch and feed Margot.”

Svea could cry.

***

“Look. At. The. CHUNK!!!!!” Brock practically screamed as he looked over Elias’s shoulder as Elias finished putting a new diaper on Margot, who was wiggling happily and cooing at seeing Brock’s face over her dad’s shoulder. “Look at you! Look at your chunk! Look at it!” Brock kept repeating.

“Brock—”

“What’re you gonna do with all these rolls? What’re you gonna do with all these rolls?!”

“Brock—”

“You gonna open a bakery? You gonna open up a bakery with all these rolls?”

“BROCK!”

“WHAT?!”

“Get me her blanket!”

Brock moved to the side and reached over to get the soft blanket he knew Elias wanted. “You don’t have to be so mean,” he grumbled at his best friend.

***

“Look, Svea! Look! Look!” Elias’s voice was frantic as he called Svea over from the kitchen. He could hear her footsteps as she rushed over to the family room. “Look!”

Svea looked at Elias on his stomach on the floor, a few feet away from Margot who was also on her tummy. She’d hit the traditional milestone of rolling over a bit early – four months in, instead of five – and now, at just over six months old, Svea watched as Margot started creeping along the floor, moving closer and closer to her dad as he kept wiggling further and further away.

“Eeeeeeh!” she would cry out in complaint of her seemingly not getting closer to her dad. “Eeeeeh!”

“Come on Margot! Just a little bit more!” Elias smiled wide.

She creeped some more, and when she was finally close enough, Elias began peppering her face with kisses. She giggled at the feeling and screeched with happiness when he picked her up and held her in his arms. “Baby’s on the move,” he smiled at Svea.

She nodded her head. “We’re not gonna be able to sit down anymore.”

***

“Where do you think you’re going, missy?” Svea asked playfully as she watched Margot crawl along the hardwood floor of the kitchen. Her chunky rolls filled out her avocado-printed onesie she was wearing as she made a beeline for the sunlight coming through the sliding door.

“Aaaaaeeeeeeee!” Margot squeaked at the sound of her mother’s voice, looking back.

“Where are you going?” Svea asked.

“Eeeeeeeaaaaaaaaa!”

“Eeeeeeeaaaaaaaaa!” Svea mimicked, knowing she should be mimicking the sounds for Margot’s development. She grabbed her phone off the counter and walked around her, crouching down on the floor and opening her camera for a video. “Come on Margot! Let’s show daddy how you can crawl!”

“Aaaaaaaadadada!!” she said, continuing her babbling and crawling as she made her way against the hardwood floor and towards the camera.

Later, when Svea held Margot on hip as she fixed a quick bowl of raspberries as a snack, she sent the video to Elias. His response was almost immediate.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

***

“She’s cruising now,” Svea explained on the phone to Grace. “Like, she can stand, but the second she takes a step she’s too wobbly and falls down. But if she’s got the couch or the coffee table, she’s okay.”

“She’s going to be walking soon,” Grace said confidently. “You guys think you weren’t able to sit down once she started crawling? Well, good luck now,” she giggled.

“I don’t know how you did this three times in a row while pregnant with the next,” Svea admitted. “Crouching down, picking her up, over and over and over again…all that with a bump? You’re superwoman, Grace.”

“I’m not superwoman, I’m just a mom,” Grace said. “For going what you went through to deliver her, you’re superwoman too, you know.”

***

“Come to daddy, Margot. Come to daddy,” Elias beckoned as he sat with his arms and legs outstretched about six feet away from Svea, who was holding Margot up by just her hands. All of the videos Svea had sent him over the last road trip of Margot trying to walk and then falling made him want to practice once he got home. He refused to see his daughter’s first steps over an iPhone video, and Svea understood that completely.

“Go to daddy,” Svea whispered in her daughter’s ear as she let go of her hands.

Margot wobbled a bit, took a cautionary first step, then a second, and at her parent’s excited voices, she smiled and continued with her steps, reaching Elias who was so elated with joy that he scooped her up in his arms and peppered her chubby face with kisses. Svea could see tears escaping his eyes as he repositioned his daughter, holding her up again by her hands, and encouraging her to walk to Svea. Some more wobbly steps and a mid-distance squat later, Margot was back in Svea’s arms, getting more kisses.

They had a walker.

***

“Your costumes are sooooo awesome, girls!” Svea cooed as she looked at Violet, Lily, Rose, and Poppy dressed up in their witch costumes as she entered the Boeser house. “Are you girls ready to go trick-or-treating?”

The four girls nodded their heads excitedly. “What’s Margot dressed up as?!” Violet asked.

“You’ll see when Elias brings her in,” Svea smiled, watching as Dukey, dressed up as Buzz Lightyear came running towards the door. “Hi Dukey!”

“I Buzz Lightyear!” he screamed excitedly. “Look!” he turned around to show off the wings of the costume. He raised his hand in the air. “Iffity and blonde!”

“To infinity and beyond!” Svea copied him.

Before they could go any further, Elias walked through the door with Margot in his arms and her diaper bag over his shoulder. “Hello girls,” Elias greeted them. “Nice costumes! Look at Svea’s!”

The four girls cooed at her, admiring her in her cute little costume. “Mooooooom! Svea’s a strawberry!”

From inside the house, Elias and Svea could hear Grace scream in delight.

***

“Haaaaaappy Birthdaaayyyyy to you! Haaaaaappy Birthdaaayyyyy to you! Haaaaaappy Birthdaaayyyyy dear Maaaaarrrgggooooottt! Haaaaaappy Birthdaaayyyyy to you!”

Margot was smiling from ear to ear as she giggled and clapped excitedly as everyone sang to her. Her first birthday party was a hit – Irene and Torbjorn were able to come in from Sweden, Emil and Fanny were Zooming in with their kids, and practically the entire team and their kids were over the Pettersson house celebrating the big day.

“Blow, Margot! Blow!” Elias bent down so he was at the same eye-level as his daughter in her high chair. He showed her how to do it before watching as she tried to mimic him. “Blow!”

Instead, Margot made a loud fart noise with her mouth.

Everyone laughed hysterically. Elias could hear Brock scream “I hope someone got that on video!” Elias watched as Svea bent down to be at eye-level with Margot too. “On three! One, two three! Blow!”

***

“Say mama. Mama,” Elias said as he lay on his back on the couch and hat Margot sitting on his chest. “Mama. Mommy.”

“Dada.”

“No, no dada. Mmmmmmmaaaammmmmmaaaaa,” he emphasized. “Mama!”

“Dada!”

“MAMA!”

“DADA!”

“Elias!” Svea yelled from the kitchen. “You can’t force her words.”

Elias grumbled. “Mama,” he said, much quieter so Svea wouldn’t hear. “Mama.”

“DADA!”

***

“Gröt,” Svea cooed as she spooned some more oatmeal into a spoon. It was already all over Margot’s face and hands, Margot loving every spoonful. Her big blue eyes looked at the spoon excitedly. “This is gröt, Margot. Gröt.”

“Do we really want Margot’s first Swedish word to be oatmeal?” Elias laughed as he joined his girls at the table, setting his mug of coffee down and placing Svea’s tea beside her on the table.

“It’s at least a single syllable,” Svea mused. She looked back at Margot, who had just swallowed the spoonful of oatmeal and was pointing at Elias taking a sip of his coffee. “Gröt. Gröt!” Svea repeated. “Gröt!”

Margot pointed emphatically. “Fika!” she said suddenly. Svea’s and Elias’s jaws dropped. “Fika!”

Elias snorted from behind Svea. “Fika. Of course her first Swedish world would be fika.”

***

“If I’m going to go back to work – I mean, I am, it’s not a question – we need to find a good daycare,” Svea said, eyes focused on her laptop screen as Margot was napping.

“More important than the daycare, Svea, is if you’re ready,” Elias cautioned. “Are you ready to go back to work?”

Svea had thought about it a lot – she really did. Being at home with Margot was amazing, of course – it was the best thing ever, and she valued every millisecond – but she was ready to return to her career. It wasn’t that she had a duty or an obligation to, or that she was feeling forced or pressured or put it on herself to be a do-it-all working mother. She just…genuinely felt like it was the right thing to do for her. Svea never saw herself as a stay-at-home-mother, even though she and Elias had boatloads full of money and she was told by co-workers, well-meaning-but-ultimately-offensive-friends, and random people that she didn’t need to work. “I’m ready,” she nodded her head. “I know it’s not going to be the same as it was before, that I won’t be working as hard, but that doesn’t matter to me. I’ve already perfected my role. I’ve already won an election for my party. But I still…I still want to work.”

Elias nodded his head. He knew Svea meant every word. And who was he to say no? There was no way. He never held Svea back before, and he wasn’t going to start now. “Then let’s look at daycares.”

***

“Every daycare we’ve been to, I haven’t gotten the best feeling,” Svea admitted to Grace as she was over her house for coffee. Dukey and Margot were playing in their playpen in eyeshot as the women spoke about their lives. “And it’s not me being…me. I can’t picture Margot there. I just can’t. And it’s not me being picky either. We even brought her to our favourite place to see if she’d like it and she was wailing the entire time.”

Grace was nodding in understanding, but the second Svea mentioned picturing Margot in a daycare, the lightbulb went off in her brain. “Svea, why don’t I watch her every day?”

Svea was taken aback. “W—What?”

“What if I watched her? I’m already home with Dukey anyway. And you know Margot is comfortable here at the house, and she knows me. What if I watched her?”

Svea shook her head. “Grace, no. No. I couldn’t do that to you—”

“You’re not doing it to me if I’m offering,” Grace said. “You know how much I love kids. It would be so fun for me! And for Dukey! And you know how much the girls adore her so when they get home from school you know they’ll be all about it too. Will you promise me you’ll at least think about it?”

***

--- OFFICE OF THE PREMIER OFFICIAL PRESS RELEASE ---

The Office of the Premier would like to formally thank Mitchell Maloney for fulfilling his duties as the acting chief of staff for the past eighteen months. The office would like to formally announce that Maloney will be assigned the role of Deputy Communications Director, effective two weeks from today, as he transfers out of his position.

The Office of the Premier would like to formally welcome back Svea Pettersson from her maternity leave. Pettersson will continue to fulfill her duties as the Premier’s Chief of Staff moving forward.

***

“Oooooooooohhhhh fuuuuuuck, Elias,” Svea moaned, looking over her shoulder at Elias who had just slipped into her from behind. “Feels so good baby.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Svea nodded. “I love it when you fuck me from behind.”

She could hear Elias let out a low chuckle. He began moving in and out of her slowly, almost too slowly, because Svea groaned, and Elias watched as she grabbed at their bedsheets, making her knuckles white. “Fuck me, Elias.”

“What’s that, pretty girl?” he asked mischievously.

“Fuck me, Elias. Fuck me harder,” Svea begged.

Elias bent over, placing kisses along her shoulders before nestling his head in the crook of her neck so he could whisper in her ear. “I fucking love it when you beg.”

***

“Can you say bye-bye to Mama? Bye bye!” Grace cooed as she bent down to be at level with both Margot and Svea who was already bending down, having kissed her daughter for a solid two minutes, unable to leave just yet. “Say bye-bye!”

“Bye bye Margot! You be good for mommy!” Svea cooed, her voice cracking as she began waving her hand so Margot could mimic her. “Bye bye!”

“Bah-bah!” Margot clasped her hand open and closed. “Bah-bah!”

“Bye-bye!” Svea wiped a tear that had fallen from her eye. She stood up, and Grace followed, picking up Margot and balancing her on her hip. “Please call me if—”

“I will, I will,” Grace interrupted. “Please don’t worry. I’ve got it. Enjoy your first day at work knowing your daughter is safe and having fun.”

“I’m definitely gonna try…can’t guarantee it’ll happen,” Svea tried to joke.

***

“Go like this Margot! Like this!” Elias said as he was on his knees, clutching a mini-stick, trying to show Margot how to hit the ball into the little hockey net they purchased months ago, which inevitably became the one thing that helped Margot learn how to walk the most.

Margot watched intently as her dad gripped the mini stick and hit the ball into the net, fetching to get it before placing it in front of her. “Shoot! Shoot!” he encouraged, making a swooping motion with the stick.

Margot looked down at the ball, and in one swift movement, she brought her mini-stick down and hit it straight into the net. Elias went wild. He began screaming and clapping and raising his hands in the air, causing Margot to start screaming and clapping and raising her hands up in the air too. He swooped her up in his arms and gave her raspberry-style kisses, causing her to shriek and giggle loudly and controllably. “Margot wins the game! Margot wins the game!” he screamed in between kisses.

Svea could hear them from upstairs as she read over some work documents for tomorrow. She felt her heart swell with love.

***

“Who knew when we were twenty and lame that we’d be surrounded by this many girls,” Brock mused, cracking open a can of beer for Elias. Both men looked out onto Elias’s backyard to see Violet, Rose, Lily, Poppy, and Margot all playing together, blowing bubbles and trying to catch them without popping them. Margot was always unsuccessful, but she was having the time of her life.

Elias nodded his head. “We’re a pair of pretty lucky guys though,” he commented.

Brock nodded his head, looking at his four daughters. “The luckiest guys in the world.”

Later in the afternoon, when Margot had to go down for her nap, Elias was rocking her back and forth as she fell asleep on his shoulder. Rose was quiet as she stood with him in the room, keeping a watchful eye and making sure Svea was falling asleep. When Elias laid Margot down on the bed, Rose finally spoke. “Uncle Petey?”

“Yes Rosey?”

“Can Margot be my sister?”

Elias smiled. “I think she already is.”

***

“I’m actually gonna sob. She looks so cute,” Svea commented as Elias finished putting on Margot’s toddler skates. Margot was bundled up in a blue jacket with green tights, the colour of the Canucks, and her helmet was already placed securely on her head. “You excited, Margot?”

“Yaaa!” she squeaked out, smiling at her mom. “Skate!”

“Yes! We’re going skating!” Elias cooed, picking her up and placing her on his hip as he and Svea began their walk towards the ice.

Svea made sure to get her phone ready on video mode, knowing she’d been taking tons and tons of videos. Most of the Canucks and their families were already on the ice, but Margot had had a mini meltdown when the helmet was put on, which delayed them. Elias stepped onto the ice, keeping Margot on his hip as he skated around quickly, making her laugh hysterically. Eventually, he carefully set her down on the ice, crouching down slightly behind her. She began moving her feet as if she was walking, with Elias holding her hands above her head.

“Look at mommy Margot! Say hi to mommy!” Elias said as Svea followed them, skating backwards slowly, filming a video on her phone.

“Hiiiiiii!” Margot said, smiling through the wire. “Hiiiiii!”

“Hi baby! Look at you skating!” Svea cooed as she continued the video. “Look at you go!”

Margot squealed excitedly, looking back up at her dad who was smiling down at her as well. “Skate! Skate!”

***

“Let’s hope she knows how to blow this time and doesn’t fart again,” Brock commented as he helped Elias light the candles on Margot’s 2nd birthday cake.

“We’ll see,” Elias giggled. “We haven’t practiced.”

Brock carried the cake so Elias could be beside Margot and Svea. Everybody began singing happy birthday, and when he placed the cake in front of Margot, she clapped and wiggled excitedly. Once everyone finished singing, it was time to see. “Blow, Margot! Blow!” Grace called out.

She took a deep breath in. She looked like she was going to do it on her own. And then…

Fart noise.

Everybody burst out into hysterical laughter. “Two-for-two!” Brock screamed.

***

“Margot…Margot, look here,” Svea said as she balanced her on her knee, reading her a book since she’d requested it. “Look here,” she pointed at the words at the bottom of the page.

Margot reached her hands out and pulled the book closer to her eyes. Svea noticed her squinting until she brought the book really close to her face. She put her finger above her mom’s and pointed to the animal on the page. “Monkey!” she said.

Svea felt worry pool in the pit of her stomach. She pushed the book back to its original distance away from Margot and turned the page. “What’s this, Margot?” she asked again.

Margot reached out again to bring the book close to her eyes. “Monkey in tree!”

“Good job, baby,” Svea cooed, closely watching her daughter. Maybe she was overreacting. Maybe Margot was just tired. But Svea knew she was going to mention it to Elias when he got home. “You’re so smart, baby.”

***

They were pink, naturally, because Margot got to choose and she was all about anything pink. Elias was worried they would bother her, or she wouldn’t like them, or put up a giant fit once they were finally on and she realized she had to wear them all the time. He’d shed a tear or two about it, worried like any father would be. But Margot was taking to them surprisingly well.

“Look, Margot!” Margot’s optometrist smiled as she held up a mirror for Margot to see herself. “These are your new glasses! They’re for you!”

“PINK!” Margot exclaimed, swinging her feet excitedly as she saw herself in the mirror.

“Yes, they’re pink!”

Margot looked up at her dad; she was sitting on his lap, after all. Her giant smile with her little teeth caused him to smile too. “Pink, daddy!”

“What’s this, Margot?” the optometrist had already opened a book and held it open a way’s away from Margot. “What’s this right here?” she pointed to Big Bird on the page.

“Big Bird!”

***

Elias groaned as he finally slipped his hard cock into Svea. They had been spooning in bed for what felt like hours that morning, waking up well before Margot usually did. Elias could hear Svea groan at his length filling her up from behind, and she savoured the feeling of him peppering kisses on the backs of her shoulder blades. “Good morning, pretty girl,” Elias mumbled coarsely in her ear as he thrust in and out of her slowly.

“G’morning, baby,” Svea smiled. She felt Elias’s hand snake up from her hip to her breast, cupping it in his hand. “I could get used to waking up with your hard cock inside of me.”

“Mmm, be careful what you wish for, pretty girl.”

“I know exactly what I’m wishing for.”

Elias began moving his hips more, making sure he was getting exactly the right angle even though their movement were still slow and purposeful; when Svea began moaning, closing her eyes when they rolled to the back of her head, he knew what he was doing was exactly what she wanted and needed. “I love you so fucking much,” she mumbled out, putting her hand over his that was still cupping her breast.

“I love you too,” he placed a tender kiss on her neck. “Thank you for giving me everything I’ve ever needed.”

Svea smiled at that, biting down on her bottom lip. “The pleasure’s been all mine.”

***

On a beautiful, hot, and sunny afternoon in Ånge, Elias couldn’t help but smile as he watched his dad hold Margot as they swam in the pool together at his parents’ house. Margot was having the time of her life in the water – after the baby swimming classes Svea had signed her up for, Elias figured she’d be happy and in her element. His dad couldn’t get enough of being a grandpa to a little girl, and neither could his mom. They spoiled all of their grandchildren. Törbjörn had even bought Margot a little bucket hat with the Swedish flag on it to wear while they were in the pool.

“Gillar du att stänka vattnet?” his dad cooed as Margot splashed the water with her hands. “Tänk om jag gjorde det här?” he asked again, throwing her up in the air and catching her low enough so she could splash in the water. Margot shrieked in delight, and that was enough reason for Törbjörn to continue.

Elias laughed along with his daughter. She had the best grandpa.

***

“Look at all the pretty flowers Margot,” Svea said as she held Margot against her hip, watching Elias as he crowned her with a beautiful flower crown that Fanny helped him make.

“Woooowww,” Margot said, grabbing at it because she was so excited.

“Gentle!” Elias warned softly. He didn’t want it to break after Fanny worked so hard on it. “Be gentle, Margot,” he repeated as he made sure it was on snugly and properly before pulling his hands away.

“My flower! My crown!” she smiled. “Daddy, you have flowers too?”

Elias eyed Svea with a smirk on his face. Svea knew he’d already crumbled. All it took was that question from Margot. He hadn’t exactly planned on wearing a flower crown, but he knew exactly where this was headed now. “You want daddy to wear flowers too?”

Margot nodded her head enthusiastically. “Mommy, daddy, me match!”

What Margot wanted; Margot got.

***

“It would be the first picture we’ve posted of her since the Christmas card photos leaked,” Elias mused as he looked at the picture on his Instagram, almost, almost ready to hit the elusive ‘post’ button.

“We didn’t release those – they were posted without our consent,” Svea clarified. She was right. They had no control over that and were actually really upset about it. To this day, they still don’t know who did it. “This would be the first photo you post of her willingly.”

Elias looked over at his wife. “Do you think I should do it? It’s so fucking cute,” he looked back at his phone, admiring the picture one more time.

In it, Margot was in her pink fluffy bathrobe, her wet hair combed back, and she was sitting on Elias’s chest as they were in bed together. Elias was holding her, pursing his lips, and Margot was putting lip balm on his lips. A classic “girl dad” photo, he thought. And if he was going to send any message out into the world about his child and the relationship he had with her, it was going to be what was encapsulated in this picture.

Svea snuggled herself into Elias’s side, bringing her hand up and pressing ‘post’ for him. “There,” she said, smiling. “All done.”

***

“When she blows out the candles, she better fart again.”

“You’re gross.”

“She’s gotta go three-for-three, Petey, or else this party is a bust.”

“You have a boy – can’t you go make fart jokes with him?”

“I have a boy who has grown up with four older sisters. He isn’t exactly one for fart jokes.”

Elias shook his head at Brock, but he couldn’t help the smirk that grew on his face. “You finally get a boy after four girls and you can’t even make a fart joke with him,” he shook his head playfully. “Just your luck, eh?”

Brock shook his head. “I have five healthy, beautiful kids. I’ll take whatever I get.”

When Elias carried the cake in and Brock began recording on his phone, everybody began singing happy birthday to Margot – a happy, energetic but cautious, giggly but quiet, exactly-like-both-her-parents’-temperaments-it-was-kind-of-scary-three year old, who every day was looking more and more like Elias’s double. She adjusted her glasses as everyone sang to her, and clapped along too. When it was time to blow, she did.

No fart noises.

“Noooooooo!” Brock groaned loudly. Elias pretended like he was going to backslap him over the head. “No fart noise!”

“It was fun while it lasted,” Svea winked at him.

***

“Will they be in my class, mommy?” Margot asked as she looked into the classroom sheepishly, a little shy now that she was in a new environment. Elias and Svea had started to talk to her about school, and how – now that she was a big girl – she needed to start going to school to learn, just like how Violet, Rose, Lily, and Poppy went to school.

“Can I go to Poppy’s school?” she asked nervously one day.

Elias and Svea decided to take her there, knowing that it would make her feel more comfortable. Knowing that Violet, Rose, Lily, and Poppy went there too put her at ease. When they saw all the girls in the junior kindergarten class in their green plaid dresses, they could tell Margot recognized them from seeing them on the Boeser girls.

“These girls won’t be in your class, but new girls who are the same age as you will be,” Svea said. “Do you like that?”

Margot hesitated slightly before nodding her head. “I like new friends.”

***

“She is out cold,” Svea smiled as she lowered herself slowly and gently onto the couch, making sure not to disturb the peaceful image before her: Margot, after an exciting and fun day of shopping for her new school uniform, completely knocked out in Elias’s arms, sleeping soundly on his chest as he rubbed her back.

Svea cradled her body into Elias, too, snuggling up against him and admiring her daughter. From the blonde hair on her head, to her pink glasses on her face, to her cute little toes Elias still loved to pretend to eat, she was perfect. As Svea thought this, she felt Elias grab her hand between them and bring it up to his lips for a kiss, holding on to it as his thumb grazed over her skin. “We did alright in the end, didn’t we?”

Svea smiled and nodded her head. “We did.”

“She’s perfect. She’s just perfect,” he said, placing the lightest of kisses atop Margot’s head.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Svea admitted.

Elias looked over at her, craning his head down to give his wife a kiss. “I love you more than I know how to explain. Thank you for giving me the light in my life.”

***

“Then all around from far away across the world, he smelled good things to eat, so he gave up being king of where the wild things are,” Elias read to Margot as they cuddled together in the rocking chair in her room. In her comfortable jammies and with her head on his chest, she was mouthing along to all the words of the book. Elias could see her get progressively more tired as he flipped through the pages, though she kept trying to mouth along and kept trying to keep her eyes open.

When they finished, Elias put the book on her bedside table as he cradled Margot in his arms and lay her down in bed, making sure to put the covers over her just how she liked. Still struggling to keep her eyes open, he brushed some hair out of her face. “Daddy?” she asked in her sweet voice.

“Yes baby?”

“I love you daddy.”

Elias smiled. “I love you too, Margot.”

“Will you read to me always?” she asked.

Elias nodded his head automatically. “Always.”

***

“Look at her go!” Grace exclaimed as she watched Margot zoom around the ice, chasing Poppy and Dukey around as they all giggled like maniacs. “I mean, who am I kidding? The daughter of Elias Pettersson? Of course she’s gonna skate like that!”

“She’s definitely a natural,” Svea smiled as her eyes followed her daughter around the ice. Brock and Elias both skated up behind their kids and scooped them up in their arms, giving them kisses before setting them back down on the ice together. “Do you ever think about how far we’ve all come…based on where we started when we met each other in our early twenties?”

“All the time,” Grace nodded. “We were so young! We were kids! Now there’s six kids between us!”

“A little skewed on your side, though,” Svea winked.

Grace elbowed her playfully. “We did good.”

***

“Margot! Margot!” Elias called out to his daughter who was already having fun with a new friend in her classroom as they played with a xylophone together. Other parents were in the room doing the exact same thing as he and Svea: making sure everything was okay on the first day of school. But the longer he and Svea stood there watching her, the more they realized she didn’t need them there; that she would thrive in the classroom and not have a meltdown about being in a new place.

To her credit, Margot listened when she heard her dad call her name and got up from her seat to hop over to her parents. “Mommy and daddy have to go now,” Elias said as he and Svea crouched down so they could by at eye-level with her. She nodded her head in understanding. “You listen to Mrs. Becker, okay?”

“I will.”

“Aunt Grace is going to come pick you up with Violet, Rose, Lily, and Poppy. Remember?” Svea asked.

“Yes mommy.”

“And remember—” Svea choked up slightly, Elias putting her hand over hers. “Mommy and daddy love you very much.”

“I love you too!” Margot said as she hugged her parents goodbye before skipping back to her friend and playing with the xylophone again.

Elias and Svea said goodbye to Mrs. Becker and held hands as they left the school building and walked back together to their car in the parking lot, silent the entire time. When Svea looked over at Elias once they were back in the privacy of their car, she could see tears streaming down his face. “Now you’re going to make me cry,” she said, wiping a few tears that had fallen.

“She’s so good. I’m so proud of her,” he said, wiping his own tears with the backs of his hands. “No meltdowns! Just walked right in there and started making friends. She’s so good.”

“Don’t jinx it – she might have a meltdown tomorrow,” Svea joked, trying to lighten the mood.

It garnered a smile out of Elias. He looked at his wife and placed his hand over hers tenderly. “I love you so much,” he mumbled, bringing her hand up to kiss it before cradling it against his chest, above his heart. All these years later, I’ve just grown to love you more, if that’s even possible.”

“I think it is, because I grew to love you more too,” Svea said softly. “My Elias. Always my Elias.

He kissed her hand again. “My moon, my stars, my Svea.”

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