#i just want to survive without struggling constantly

[astracora]

Turning Point - Part 6

Characters: Poly!LADs x gn!mc

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Injuries, Angst, Loss of Arm, Lots of emotional struggle with disability, mentions for Zayne's backstory, very small Zayne foreseer mentions.

Word Count: 5281

Written: 14th January 2025

Notes: Pre-relationship with gn!MC with all LADs, with my personal pov of the game and lil headcanons littered in. Unnamed MC, but using my personal MC's basic appearance and adjusted backstory. I take some liberties with what the game offers me. Sorry to Zayne, but you break my heart (and the game punishes you so much, so I have to do a lil bit too). So this one took a while, because the active start of them having a conversation about Poly, actually busted my brain up for a little while. Especially cause you can't exactly have the real convo until the other participating (or not) party is there. I'm hoping my Caleb brainrot has left me alone enough that I can actually focus on this damned fic again without thinking about mr tall, dark and in need of a slap (affectionate... maybe). Anyway, have at ye! Enjoy (I hope!)!

Now Playing: Good Enough, By Lø Spirit

Masterlist AO3

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He has had to adapt to many things, Zayne finds himself thinking on his morning run. He has lived his life in many roles, and with many surprises or struggles thrown at him to handle.

His time as a combat medic, taught him above all else, how to survive, and improvise. How to keep himself and others moving forwards. Even when the nightmares, and the grief of Mt Eternal haunted him.

His struggles to control his EVOL, taught him control. The values of a level head, ways to ease himself down to a steady crawl. He was a healer, he would not hurt anyone because he failed to keep himself in check. Even when he was called cold, or misunderstood as not having as warm a heart as a person can.

Leaving after injuring you with something he could not control, the goal to understand your heart more than anyone else could. The long nights of study, the lack of socialisation, the time spent pouring over books. Desperate for an answer. Taught him commitment and drive. To save you, to be the one who could pull you back from the edge. The person he cared most about in the world.

Leaving him isolated and tired, but closer to his goal.

Zayne has overcome every challenge handed to him, because he has to see his goal through.

He has to see the jasmine bloom.

So, he has experience dealing with things outside of his control and his knowledge. Of finding a way forwards. Surviving or excelling.

He likes to think the current series of events… well he's handling it.

Even if he is hitting the path a little harder with every step. Rushing through his usual route, like he's outrunning something. He's handling it.

"Z-Zayne!" Your call slows his feet, halts him. He looks back to see you bent over, breathing heavily, gasping.

Months away from training, had rusted you a little. Left you stumbling after where you originally could have overtaken him. The regret and irritation at himself bites, so he pushes it down.

Move forwards, always move forwards.

It is almost autopilot that takes him over when you're injured, or unwell. An instinct that pulls his body into routines to heal and ease. As he gets you to a bench to sit, and rest, he checks your heart.

"I'm" You gasp, pushing his hand gently away from where he is looking for your pulse, "Fine, just pushed too hard."

There's a moment where he debates ignoring you. You've lied to him that you're fine before. Haven't shared when you needed help. Have hidden injuries. Avoiding telling him the truth with things such as colds.

Then he thinks about that morning, putting his trainers on. Ignoring the overgrown crow on the sofa who was talking on his phone. He'd heard all of a few words, 'keep him quiet' and had decided it was better to be ignorant to whatever Sylus was up to… Even if part of him wanted to take you somewhere else. Even if his mind was constantly screaming, trying to process everything. Lemurians, the N109 Zone, an immortal prince…

"Zayne?" You stand behind him, old jogging clothes on, fiddling with the toggles on your hoodie.

He stands up to focus on you. Taking in the livening to your eyes, the health returning to your face. His smile is uncontrolled, a natural reaction to your presence. An unnerving feeling of losing his handle on the reins.

A fall with no net.

It is addicting and terrifying all in one, to realise how easily you cut through thorned walls of deadly vines, that keep him under hand.

"What is it?" He manages, straightening the hem of his shirt. Grounding himself, something solid beneath his fingers. It is not as stabilising as your hand, but it is all he can grab without overstepping too many boundaries. One's he's unsure you will rescind, or be pleased to even allow him access past.

If all he ever is, is the man who mends your heart, then he will carry that with him in his own, eternally. Even if it does not beat for him.

"I'm allowed to start exercising again, would it be alright if I joined you? I won't slow you down too much, I promise." You hesitate, stepping up to the door to him, watching as though he'll close it on you.

Wary, scared.

He remembers a child staring back at him much the same. Worried he did not care for them. Worried that they were taking time he would rather have put somewhere else.

Nervous to take his hand, so you took Caleb's instead.

His hand itches, the thorn wall is thick. He knows it will slice his hand open if he reaches through it. The pain would be worth it, just like every stab of his ice is worth the moments he protects your back.

So much wasted time, and he still watches it waste. Still sees moments pass him, where he should be there. Watching, helping, caring.

He feels like a coward, however, because he's too scared to take the step. To walk through the thorned wall… because his pain means little…

Yours, however, he wishes to never cause again.

So he simply nods, pushing down the deep pit of yearning and desperation that wants him to show you every single scar, to allow your passage behind him.

He pulls his hand away from your wrist, assenting with your assurance that you're fine. But he cannot settle, not truly, so he tells you to wait. To sit, and breathe, and he leaves to find a place to buy you a drink.

The park he runs is a quiet place this early, he does not have to worry about the noise, or the crowds. He can run, and he can breathe and he can centre himself. He can grasp his own mind in his hands, and wrangle it. Every morning, the same process. Out, run, breathe, work, research, leave. Repeat.

He has lived his life in a strict routine that he does not break. Not until you.

It has broken even more with the night he turned up to your door, met the other three men in your life, and stitched your open wounds.

It is like being woken with ice cold water in your face, or to the sound of the walls falling down around you. Trembling the foundations.

What was once an absent acceptance of the possible future he could see, has become a solid path he can watch you walking down. Leaving someone who can only hurt you behind. In favour of those who do not have to fight every part of their soul to leave scars.

It is not grief, not really, to watch a future you never believed you could have, disappear.

It's a natural progression of time. The daylight melting soft snowflakes. It is the inevitable.

Like you believe the waiting bomb in your chest is. Unavoidable. He hopes to overturn such a thing, to reach through the thorns long enough to watch your future strengthen into something bright and blinding. Even if they shut afterwards. An inescapable prison, frozen over and forgotten.

His life is a tool to help others, to help you. He has watched his parents follow that path, he has no problems watching himself do so…

Even though they have each other, and even though he yearns to have you.

The cold acceptance is an easy feeling to hold. He's held it for years.

When Zayne returns to you, a bottle of water in hand, he watches your nose wrinkle. "It's cold, and all I get is some water."

He feels the sigh escape him, long suffering, used to the cavalier way you handle your health. Like it doesn't matter, but as you stick your tongue out at him, metal fingers brushing his as you take the bottle from him, he cannot help but feel the warmth of a smile that you bring out with ease.

"I'm not supplying your caffeine addiction."

"I help supply your sugar problem." You pout and sniff, turning your head away as you gulp down long drafts. The sweat beading on your forehead draws his hand.

He absently watches himself place his hand there, the chill of his skin glittering in snowflakes, as he eases the heat from your face.

It is like watching through a hazy glass wall. His fingers twitching against heated skin, the way your eyes turn to his, wide before they narrow, head tilting into his touch as the ice settles over you.

You feel too warm, and his other hand joins the first, skirting over cheeks, seeking out the heat. Drifting over your neck, to the pulse point. It skips under gentle fingers, and his fingers twitch. Just a little. Right over where your heart thrums.

Its odd beat and uneven rhythm, singing in a way he knows better than any other.

When you jump, at the feeling of the ice intensifying against your sensitive skin, he pulls back. Quick, schooling his expression. He isn't sure what his face speaks, but he knows you observe him too easily for it to be left in the open.

"Cooler?" He manages, forced through a tight throat and skin that feels like it burns where he touched you. There is a voice in his mind that urges him to reach out again, to hold your face in his hands and revel in the heat you bring to skin too often torn by cold.

A voice that often reminds him that he's happier to be cold, when he can warm himself at your fire.

He watches your throat work, like you're swallowing down something. He wonders, for a moment, if it's a complaint at his casual contact. A boundary he has overstepped. Before he watches your lip quirk, small smile coming through, as small and crooked as he remembers from childhood, but with sparkling eyes. "Much better, thank you Zayne."

Zayne can feel his routine falling out of his hands, everyday he spends with you, everyday in your apartment with men he does not really know.

He can feel the lack of control, the feeling of not knowing what to expect every day.

He watches the time he should spend running, chased away like the sun chases shadow. He watches you look out, as people enter the park. Families, dog walkers, those alone and with others.

The sun hits the side of your face, catching on a snowflake, melting on the tip of your nose. Showing him glittering mismatched eyes, and the teeth peeking out as you smile.

He leans back next to you, and watches the people pass.

"Gran used to bring me here." You speak, watching an old lady walking with her grandson. He pulls her forwards, and then stumbles, before the woman rights him. Tuts, pokes his nose, and they walk again. "Too much energy, I kept wearing her out. So she'd bring me so I could just… run. Caleb would try to keep up and couldn't."

Zayne thinks about what little time he did get to spend with you, he thinks about being dragged into every game you wanted to play, the excitement at everything new you found. He also remembers far too many containers full of bugs that you shoved in his face to look at. He remembers that you didn't always used to be scared.

Worried about breathing too much. Worried about how you spoke, how you acted. Worried about being too weak.

The day you learned about your heart, he knows you changed. He can see it still, in every time you brush off his concerns at the hospital, at the way you laugh at things you should hurt over. He can see it in how you don't stop, because if you stop, you flounder. You think. You start to slip.

He thinks about every single time you tell him it's not a problem. That you're fine.

It's a lie about your body… it's a lie about your heart.

He's watched so much of you crumble, and break, making yourself into a weapon useful to others. He's had to watch as you rush into battle, not able to follow, not able to help.

He has his own role, his own place, more people he has to save.

It does not make watching you leave any easier. It does not make him stop wanting to follow.

He is relieved for your partner, Xavier, knowing someone is there in most of your missions. Ready to stand at your back. Even if the… time traveling prince, he reminds himself, does not seem to care about his own health. 

He's spent so long watching as you refused to lean on others, scared to seek out help in case they found you too much work, and can see you struggling with the same thoughts with him.

With all four of them. Demanding you lean, does little, you simply laugh and tell him it is not a problem. 'If I get really hurt you'll see me, don't worry.' You've said.

It's a lie though, you didn't come to him when you were injured. The hospital did not inform him that you almost died. He did not know about the extent of what had been done to you, until you told him.

Until he broke through the boundaries of what a doctor should do, to find his way to your side, to look at every injury for himself.

He won't just be handed answers, and he's in no better spot than the other three. Standing at your door, seeking you out when your heart fractures on you, and you shut yourself away in pain you can't process. Feelings you don't understand.

Zayne knows when his feelings waver on the edge, unable to be grasped, hard to process or comprehend. He knows the negative, a haunting nightmare of regrets that do not leave him to rest, and he knows the positive, when his hands help soothe those who need his help.

He knows the name of one very distinct feeling, that is familiar and as dangerous as he can imagine. Something that ripples through every strand of control he demands to keep the cruelty of ice at bay.

He can place that feeling to the eyes that sparkle as you people watch, as you smile at a dog that trots past. As you turn to him, shackles around your body fallen away. Even for a moment.

When the feeling settles in his chest, and cuts a hole through the wall of thorns so that he can see out.

"We're not meant to be alone, I think places like this remind me of that."

You pull him from his thoughts, looking over at him with warm eyes, with your heart so visible in the gaze you offer, that his skips.

"I think I love it here."

He wants to tell you that he does too, because this moment, with your presence next to him, and the view of the world around him… he wishes was the future he could grasp with his hands.

Without the spear of ice.

—---

Zayne thinks he is handling this situation. He's sure of it.

Except every day gets a little harder.

It is the loud noises he's not used to from companions he isn't used to having.

It is the changes to his routine, and though he knows they are necessary, he feels fractured.

Out of control.

It is seeing those around him, moving forwards through a wall that he can't find the door for.

It's the day he is sat in the living room working, while Rafayel and Sylus have yet another argument, that he feels it rippling out.

You have left with Tara, promising you're ready. That it'll be alright.

He had watched the hesitation in everyone's eyes, before you had left.

It was the feeling he knows well, that every day you walk through that door, you may not come back.

Zayne does not want you to be confined to harsh walls. You are you, when you are living. Not just existing.

Xavier is lying on the sofa next to him, curled around a rabbit plushie you own.

He finds himself wondering why they all stay, in this space, when you're not here. Coming and going at will, but Xavier's apartment is above, and yet he stays here, in the spaces you have shaped.

Rafayel complains for the lack of beach, but he still walks around the place smiling, peeking at all of the things you own.

Sylus will hit his head on frames or cabinets, but he scoffed when you had suggested he should stay in the N109 Zone, out of concern.

Zayne could return to his space, but the space where you are is warm. Even if his routines have changed, and left him adrift.

It is as he watches the Lemurian fight with the Criminal, wondering at how you even met them, that he abandons his work… another action he could never have done, until meeting you.

"How long have you known them, Rafayel?"

It's a question that lurks at the edges of his mind, one that he does not ask because he worries for the answer and the boundary.

But the boundaries are fracturing, and the thorns are escaping, to rip through every day he does not hold to the strict order that he has set for himself.

The argument, if it can be called that when Sylus gains great joy from each of Rafayel's barbs, stops.

Eyes focus on him, and he vaguely can tell the sleeping prince has woken, barely looking up but aware.

Rafayel turns away, looking over at his canvas, "A while. Long enough for fish to learn to walk."

It's not an answer, not really. It feels more like evasion, like the way you back away from concern over your health, while still showing more than he thinks you notice.

It's the pain flickering through his eyes for a second, that Zayne has seen in family of grieving patients.

He doesn't want to poke at open wounds, at the cause of Rafayel's pain, that comes out into art you've shown him photos of.

Xavier mumbles something into his pillow, but when he receives only silence, he lifts his head, barely, to try again.

"Aren't you a walking fish?"

Rafayel laughs, a sharp bark rather than the kind Zayne has heard with you, "I learned to walk for cutie."

The prince shrugs in response and goes back to his pillow, but Zayne catches the sharp blue eyes. A question he's decided not to answer.

It's nothing he can learn without asking, and every man in this room holds things they won't share. Not with you, and not with Zayne.

He thinks of the ice spearing your chest.

Even him.

He instead asks something he hopes is easier, "What about you Xavier? You've worked with them for a while, have you not?"

He turns his head against the rabbit plushie, and peers at Zayne through silver bangs. Stares at him for a long time. Zayne does not feel fear at Sylus, the man doesn't actively harm unless necessary, 'violence should be used strategically', he's heard the man say when you try to throw something at him.

He sometimes finds Rafayel unsettling, at moments when the moon catches his eyes and they gleam like a deep sea beast. Yet he also doesn't think there's cause to watch his back… he thinks he can be believed to be moral enough to be certain of that.

Sometimes Xavier has a sharp look in his eyes, that feels like a blade cutting through the air. It is not actively harmful, he makes no means to hurt anyone that you care for, but it is like years have sharpened him down. To a point where he's as familiar with ice as Zayne is.

The look softens though, into his usual starry blue, "I came back to find them again." It's not a number, but Zayne can calculate it in his head. Hundreds of years searching, thinking and hoping.

It is one of those answers that unsettles him. Reminds him how at odds he feels surrounded by people so different to him. A man, amongst what amount to legends.

"You didn't ask me, Doctor." Sylus hums, twirling a knife around his fingers, the blade cuts through the air. It should look like a threat… but Zayne's learned the man has a leash he holds for you. Even if you cannot see it.

"I was getting there." He barely stops himself from rolling his eyes, exasperation sinking into his bones. He understands why Sylus and Rafayel fight… even if he keeps himself level enough to not bite back. It is not worth the bite of ice in return. "So?"

"I didn't hear a question."

This time he rubs at the space between his eyes.

"Do you have any friends, crow? Or does everyone find you this annoying?"

"Well now fish, I was giving you the affectionate package, there are no refunds."

"Can it be binned?" Xavier grumbles from the side.

"It's also only disposable in certain places, for the environment, you see."

Zayne thinks he hears the prince huff a laugh, but his face buries back into the pillow.

"How long?"

Sylus doesn't answer, but he leans back in his chair, one red eye flashing at Zayne for a moment, before he laughs. It is harsh, and biting, and his hackles raise. Leaning away with his laptop pushed forward. "You're trying to puzzle us out. Judge if your beloved patient is safe with us."

"I don't know-"

"Don't bother lying, it wastes all of our time. Not physically though, mhm?"

It's a cool hand down his back, even icier than his own. Like it's ready to tighten around his spine.

He has misjudged the criminal, as the red eye glows, and he leans further forward. "So Doctor, what is it you really want to know?"

Zayne isn't used to losing control. He has held it tight, kept it close. A protector as much as a punishment. His control slips, escaping in a haze of red, "Do you love them?"

Xavier's sword is extended at Sylus when the red filters away. Sharp blue and glowing light, who raises his hands calmly and leans back, "Calm down prince, just saving us time."

He gasps, the ice spreading over his hands, crawling up his arms. A hand is placed near him, a tiny flame extended as Rafayel eases the chill away. Slowly and carefully, it is not a balm to a wound like your resonance is. But it is welcome. He manages a thank you, chokes out, reigning it back. The man doesn't respond, shrugs, but his cheeks colour. As though helping brings great embarrassment.

"What did you do?"

"Just drew out some inner thoughts. If we'd have stayed as we were, he would have kept leading us around twenty questions. I'm a busy man."

"You spent three hours yesterday trying to teach that damn crow of yours how to sing happy birthday."

"He'll need it when Kitten gains a year."

"I'm fine." Zayne manages, easing away from the flame in Rafayel's palm as he wrestles everything back to its proper place. Back to where it should be. Back to where he should be. "Do not do that again."

He's surprised that Sylus tilts his head, looking down at his hands, a flicker of something in his eyes, "Provided it's not necessary, you have my word."

"Necessary?" Xavier scoffs, but settles back on the sofa, next to Zayne.

For a second, Zayne thinks of a knight, not a prince. But the thought is so embarrassing to hold in his head, that he pushes it down. He watches as the man brings his plushie back into his lap, but this time he does not slumber. Simply keeps watch.

Rafayel stays nearby, leaning back, but Zayne notices the way his eyes flicker down at Zayne's hands and away.

He is dangerous. To more than you. He cannot forget that for a moment.

"You want to know if we love them, why?"

It's not a question Zayne can answer. It's the kind of question that makes him want to bury himself in those thorns. If he affirms the thoughts in his mind, he makes them a reality he has to face.

Because he knows he can't?

Because he wants to…

Because he isn't sure where to go from here, with people who have crossed oceans and space for you.

Because he is out of control… and inadequate in all the ways that matter.

"Let's try a different question, how would you respond to a yes? Yes I do adore them, yes I do love them."

It is phrased like a rhetorical, but there's flames in the man's eyes. Like a dragon who has laid claim to a hoard. Like to even think to lie about such a thing, would hurt more than Xavier's sword in his chest.

"I-" What would he do? He has long accepted you following a path away from him, because your happiness is worth it. Knowing he can never hurt you again, is all he wants.

He can be your doctor. Just your doctor. Caring for your heart in at least one way.

"People like you really are interesting, Doctor. Shackles of your own making, keeping you standing where you think you should be. The kind of people that when pushed enough, snap." He can tell there's some amusement in the observation, like the process of pushing him would bring entertainment to the crime lord's life.

Zayne wants to rebuff him, to snap, that it's not his making… he thinks. He's not sure why he thinks it though. Still those scarlet eyes soften, into molten pools and he sighs, "You and kitten are similar. Putting yourselves into boxes that you can't leave. Scared to step outside and find you don't have a place."

The knife spins again, flipped up and caught by the blade between deft fingers, fearless at the idea of being nicked. "You should learn to step outside the box."

"Real cryptic, crow. I'm sure your advice column goes down great."

"It's not that easy." Xavier adds, looking over, "Hedonist." Sylus shrugs and doesn't debate it, whether he agrees with the label or not, Zayne isn't sure. "We're here, it's complicated."

"Is it?"

The response gives the prince pause. It's the surety. Like Sylus has no question for the path of his life.

Like he knows it will always lead to you, and beyond.

"Kitten doesn't run from me, unless they're hurting and nursing their wounds. They care for me, even if they don't have the words for the feeling. So I will be here, until they change their mind. No one else's presence stops or hinders that for me. I may be greedy, but I am not foolish. You do not take from their life, you add to it. To remove you, is to remove parts of them."

Rafayel looks away, "We shouldn't talk about this without them."

"You wish to spring this on them? When we have not discussed it ourselves? 'Ah, kitten, you're here. Pick a lover.'"

There's a growl in the back of the lemurian's throat, and as he leans forward, his hand catches on the side. Knocking a plate off, spilling the macarons Zayne had long forgotten. He catches it in hand, ice sticking it before it can spill contents onto the carpet.

Rafayel stops, looking over at Zayne, the anger trembling down into frustration before guilt takes its hold. He doesn't speak, just offers over one of the sweet treats quietly before Rafayel can speak.

He looks at it momentarily, cheeks flushing, then back at Zayne, and stuffs it into his mouth. He attempts to mumble a response, Zayne assumes a thanks, but it is mostly sprayed out with crumbs.

The man's strain gives Zayne some buoyancy. A grounding place. He is better at speaking for others, than for himself. "So you don't care about our presence?"

"Do you?"

It's… an odd question. Zayne has felt jealousy, he thinks. He has felt it towards these men when they have seemed the future you will walk towards.

He also thinks about days spent with all of you in one room, eating, arguing and laughing.

He thinks about the routine he cannot handle, the shaking to his foundations.

The warm heat of a lemurian's flame, and the sharp glow of a knight's blade.

He thinks about the nature of loneliness. Of fearing his hands can hurt.

"No." Is his honest answer, because he does not hate this place, with these people. He does not dislike the laughter in the room, or the sweets he has been made by the criminal staring at him with garnet eyes. He does not want to leave, even when you are not here. Eased by the space of you, and learning to be comfortable in their presence.

He has been isolated for a while, and while your presence makes it softer, he is eased to not face days alone. To come home to food, he does not have to force his tired body to cook, and people who learn his preferences.

Even if they often seem to be learning boundaries, first.

The shackles, as Sylus put them, are sturdy though. Heavier than anything else he will ever carry. Weighted by guilt and fears that cannot be alleviated in one night.

He wonders, absently, and hopefully, if not walking the path alone, will mean he can walk it easier with you.

That maybe it allows him to care for your heart in all the ways that matter.

Xavier leans back against the sofa, the movement shaking him, and yawns. His head drooping for a moment against Zayne's shoulder, before he slumps back to the other side. Back to his arms wrapped around his favourite plushie. "I like the meals." He mumbles, before he begins to snore softly.

"Should we worry that he's that easily won over by hotpot?"

Zayne retrieves the blanket over the arm of the sofa, to lay over the hunter. "I wonder if it was that easy."

"What about you fish?"

Rafayel turns his head away, conjuring a flame in his hand, that turns into a fish. He watches it flicker, dance, before it swims around his arm. "I've lost them too many times." Zayne feels the weight of his grief then, the pain that pulls through. The ones that feel familiar. "If it means never losing them or being alone again…" The fish dissipates, but not before swimming in a loop, and twirling through the air between them all. "I guess I don't hate you all."

"What a compliment, I'm about to swoon, fish."

"Except for you, stupid crow."

"Well, great alliances are never built in a day."

He looks down at his hands, thinking about the ice and the thorns. The future he can't grasp. He thinks about you watching people on the park bench.

'We're not meant to be alone.'

He isn't sure if this is what you mean, but maybe, one day, when they're ready to talk, and you are ready to hear… it will be.

If you seek him out, none of them, one of the others, or all of them. He will accept, because he knows you care, and that will never be called into question.

Even though, as the crow and the fish begin to whisper insults at each other, he thinks that alliance will take far longer.

[luxoraeterna]

🌞

[turtlespancake]

me when i write a character who is prone to dooming themself and then they run off and doom themself. core traits are stubbornness and a willingness to disregard their own humanity gET BACK HERE IM NOT DONE WITH YOU

[karemandohan1999]

365 days since the war in Gaza🇵🇸

One Year After the War in Gaza: A Never-Ending Nightmare

It has now been a year since the war on Gaza began, and yet the suffering continues. The people of Gaza are trapped in a relentless cycle of devastation, poverty, and despair. Homes, schools, and hospitals have been reduced to rubble. Families who once had a future now struggle to survive each day in unimaginable conditions. The lack of clean water, food, and electricity has turned daily life into a constant fight for survival.

The health system is on the verge of collapse, with few resources left to care for the countless injured and ill. Children, who should be growing up in safety, instead bear the scars of war—physically and emotionally. They go to sleep hungry and wake up to the sounds of bombs, if they can sleep at all.

My husband and I have lost many important people to us 👇👇👇👇

I am Kareman Dohan, a Palestinian mother and educator. Before the war, I taught young children, hoping to shape a better future for them. But that future was destroyed when my school was bombed, and I lost my job. My husband, Ayman Alwan, was a fisherman, but our boat—the only source of income we had—was shattered and lost to the sea.

The most heartbreaking part of our struggle is watching our son, Hamoud, suffer. He is just 17 months old, and due to the lack of food and access to clean water, he is now malnourished. No parent should have to witness their child in pain, hungry, and helpless. Every day feels like a fight for survival, with bombs constantly raining down on us. We live in fear, knowing that at any moment, our lives could end.

All we want is to escape this nightmare, to find a safe place where we can start over, but we simply do not have the means to do so. My son needs urgent care, proper nutrition, and a future where he can grow without the shadow of war hanging over him. We are trying with all our might, but the burden has become too heavy to carry alone.

I am pleading for your help, for your compassion, for your generosity. Any donation, any act of kindness, can give my family the hope we so desperately need. Your support could save us from despair, and we will be forever grateful.

Donate and share

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[watermelonsloth]

I think the reason why Naruto fans get so passionate and upset about the series is because of how real it can be. Naruto isn’t about paragon heroes outdoing dastardly villains. It’s about human beings fighting tooth and nail to survive in a world surrounded by death. It’s about broken systems made and perpetuated by broken people.

The Hyuga clan isn’t just antagonistic or pretentious, they practice slavery.

The Uchiha clan weren’t just killed by some raging psychopath, they were systematically massacred.

Itachi isn’t just cruel to Sasuke because he’s a bad brother, he’s cruel because he’d been told time and time again that you can only survive by being cruel and he wants nothing more than for Sasuke to survive.

Nagato isn’t trying to take over the world just for the sake of power, he’s trying to take over the world because it beat him down to the point of believing that the only chance at peace there is is the world being forced into compliance through fear.

Iruka isn’t hard on Naruto just because he’s a strict teacher, he’s hard on Naruto because he knows from experience how unforgiving the world is towards orphans.

Kakashi isn’t just some silly and slightly lazy teacher, he’s a contract killer still grieving his loved ones and struggling to do better without knowing how he’s supposed to.

Sakura isn’t just a fangirl, she’s a normal girl in a very dangerous and abnormal world constantly being made to choose between what she’s supposed to do and what she feels.

Sasuke isn’t just some edgelord, he’s a survivor who lost everything then gets repeatedly told that he has to choose between keeping what he’s gained and doing better than his brother.

Naruto isn’t just trying to be the best Hokage there ever was, he’s trying to prove his worth to a society that abandoned him just for existing and, in a way, confirm his worth to himself.

The Naruto story is about humans trying to force themselves into the role of weapons because that’s what they were told they had to be. It’s a story where everyone is a perpetrator but no one is trying to do wrong. It’s a story where everyone is a victim but no one is a perfect victim.

The world and the characters aren’t simple and trying to simplify them only takes away from them. So of course we get passionate about showing off all the reasons why they shouldn’t be simplified and all of the ways they’re complicated. Of course we get upset when we see others simplifying them or selling certain aspects of their characters short. Of course we get upset when the series itself simplifies them. Of course we get upset when the series chooses to abandon them. Because it not only feels like the characters are giving up, it feels like the series is betraying anyone who chose to get invested in its complexities.

[helen-with-an-a]

Heyy, i hope you're doing well! I wanted to ask if you would be down to write a fic based on the song "drown" by bring me the horizon. I absolutely love this song and it has a place in my heart because this band and also this song carried me through some dark times ( I cried so hard when i heard that song live for the first time 2 months ago xD) . Maybe it could be a barca x reader fic that also deals with $elf h@rm if that is a topic you're comfortable writing about, because reading books and fan fics about this topic has been helping me immensely with my own recovery. So if this is an idea that interests you I would love to read that fic, but if it's a topic you're just not comfortable with feel free to just ignore this ask. (But seriously listen to drown it's such a beautiful song)

Hiiiiii - I hope I did this request and song justice. Please know if you are struggling, you are loved. You are so, so loved and people want to help you. I know asking for help is really hard, but I promise it is worth it. You are worth it.

Drowning

Barça femeni x reader

Description: R feels like she is drowning and the team comes to help her

Word Count: 5.4k

TW: Undescribed Self Harm; Brief mentions of cutting; Bad mental health

Kelly Clarkson once sang that whatever doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, that it turns you into a fighter, and helps you stand a little taller. Those words are meant to inspire resilience, to remind you that adversity is supposed to build character and fortify your spirit. But as much as you wanted to believe that, as much as you tried to let those lyrics resonate in your heart, the truth is, you weren’t sure if they were true. You wished with every fibre of your being that they were, but deep down, you felt the weight of life’s challenges pressing down on you. Instead of feeling stronger, you often felt worn down, as if the struggles you faced had chipped away at your resolve rather than bolstered it.

You wanted to feel like a fighter, to stand taller in the face of hardship, but more often than not, you found yourself struggling just to stay on your feet. It was as if each obstacle left a scar that made it harder to move forward, rather than easier. The hope that you’d emerge stronger sometimes felt like a distant dream, and you wondered if that strength Kelly sang about was something you’d ever truly feel.

Half the time, it felt like you were floating – weightless, as if you were drifting through life without a solid anchor. There was a strange sensation of being unmoored, detached from the world around you, almost as if you were existing in a bubble that separated you from everything real and tangible. In those moments, you felt neither grounded nor fully present, as if the weight of your worries and responsibilities had somehow lifted, but so had your sense of purpose and direction. You were there, but not really there – drifting in a kind of limbo where everything seemed just out of reach.

The other half of the time, it felt like you were drowning – barely able to keep your head above the water as the weight of everything threatened to pull you under. The world seemed to close in around you, the pressures and responsibilities of life crashing over you like relentless waves. Each day felt like a struggle just to stay afloat, as if you were constantly treading water in an ocean of overwhelming emotions, fears, and uncertainties.

Your mind was a whirlpool, dragging you down into dark, turbulent depths where it was hard to breathe, hard to think, and hard to see any way out. Every little thing seemed like an anchor, dragging you further beneath the surface, making it harder and harder to find the strength to push back up. The sensation of drowning was terrifying – your heart raced, your breath quickened, and panic took hold as you fought desperately to survive the relentless tide.

In these moments, it felt like you were being suffocated by the weight of your own thoughts and emotions, as if they were water filling your lungs, making it impossible to take a full breath. You tried to fight against it, to keep yourself above the water, but the effort was exhausting, leaving you drained and gasping for air. The more you struggled, the deeper you seemed to sink, and the idea of finding solid ground again felt increasingly out of reach.

There was one thing that brought you a small measure of comfort, a fleeting moment of relief that made you feel a little better. It was like a lifeline thrown to you in the middle of the chaos. Just for that brief instant, your feet were on solid ground again, and you felt a sense of stability that had been missing for so long. In that split second, you weren’t drowning in the suffocating depths of your anxieties, nor were you floating aimlessly through the fog of disconnection.

Instead, you felt anchored, grounded in a reality that was steady and secure. It was as if the storm inside you had paused, and the world had stopped spinning just long enough for you to catch your breath. In that moment, you were fully present, aware of yourself and your surroundings in a way that made everything else fade into the background. The weight that usually pressed so heavily on your chest lifted, and for that brief period, you were able to stand tall and feel the earth beneath you, firm and unwavering.

It didn’t last long – those moments of clarity and peace never did. They slipped away as quickly as they came, like sand through your fingers, leaving you once again adrift in the chaos of your thoughts. The sense of calm and stability that you craved was always fleeting, a temporary reprieve that left you yearning for more. But in the aftermath, when the world once again became overwhelming and your mind descended back into the chaos there was one thing that lingered: the small, neat red lines.

These lines were the only reminder of that brief lucidity, etched into your skin like a secret code that only you could understand. They were delicate but precise, almost methodical in their appearance, as if each one was a calculated attempt to bring some order to the chaos within.

The red lines were your way of marking time, of grounding yourself in a reality that often felt too slippery to hold onto. In those moments when clarity slipped away, when you were once again floating or drowning, they were there to remind you that, for just a moment, you had found your footing. The pain they brought was real, sharp, and immediate – something that could cut through the numbness and confusion, anchoring you back to the present.

It hadn’t always been like this. There was a time when life was simpler, when the world seemed brighter and full of possibilities. Your dad used to tell you stories of when you were just a baby, how you were the very picture of happiness –  all gummy smiles and infectious giggles that could light up a room. He would describe how your laughter was so pure, so full of joy, that it could make even the grumpiest person smile. In his eyes, you were a little bundle of sunshine, radiating warmth and love wherever you went.

You often wondered what happened to that little girl, the one who seemed to find joy so easily in everything around her. Where did she go? What changed between those carefree days and now, when the world feels so heavy and your heart so burdened? You tried to remember the last time you felt that kind of unrestrained happiness, but the memories were hazy, like trying to recall a dream that had long since faded.

You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment when things started to shift, when the lightness began to slip away, replaced by something much darker. Maybe it was a gradual process, so slow and subtle that you didn’t notice it happening until one day you woke up and realised that the little girl who used to laugh so easily was gone. Or maybe it was something more abrupt, a single event that changed everything, though you couldn’t quite remember what it might have been.

There were times when you’d catch a glimpse of her, that little girl, in the mirror – perhaps in a fleeting smile or a brief moment of joy – but she was always just out of reach, like a shadow that vanished as soon as you tried to hold onto it. The happiness that once came so naturally now felt like a distant memory, something that belonged to a different time, a different version of yourself.

You couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss, a mourning for the person you used to be, for the life you used to live. What had happened to that carefree spirit, the one who saw the world as a place of wonder and possibility? Where did all those smiles and giggles go, replaced by the weight of anxiety and the burden of unspoken sadness?

You wished you could find your way back to her, to that little girl who knew how to be happy without even trying. But the path seemed unclear, the way forward uncertain, and all you were left with were the memories of who you used to be and the quiet hope that maybe, someday, you might rediscover that lost joy.

Ingrid had sensed that something was off the very first time she met you. It was as if she could see right through the façade you were trying so hard to maintain. You were just 17 at the time, still so young, yet there was something about the way you carried yourself that spoke of a weariness far beyond your years. Most teenagers were full of restless energy, eager to explore the world and discover who they were, but you – there was a heaviness in your eyes, a kind of fatigue that no child should ever have to bear.

When you stood before her, Ingrid could see that the weight of the world was already pressing down on your shoulders. It was in the way you held yourself, as if every movement took a conscious effort, every step a deliberate act to keep from being overwhelmed by the burden you carried. You tried to smile, to present yourself as just another teenager navigating the usual challenges of adolescence, but even your smile seemed strained, like it was something you had to force rather than something that came naturally.

Ingrid noticed how you seemed to shrink into yourself, as if trying to make yourself smaller, less noticeable, perhaps in the hope that the world might go easier on you if you took up less space. But it was impossible to ignore the sadness that lingered behind your eyes, a sadness that seemed to have settled there long before its time. It was as if you had lived through experiences that had aged you in ways that others your age couldn’t begin to understand.

There was an unspoken tension in the way you interacted with others, a hesitation that suggested you had learned to guard yourself carefully. Ingrid could tell that you were wary of letting anyone get too close, as if you were afraid that if someone saw too much, they might unravel the carefully constructed image you were trying so desperately to hold together. It was a kind of self-protection, a shield you had built to keep the world at arm’s length, but Ingrid could see through it.

She saw the exhaustion etched into your posture, the way your shoulders slumped ever so slightly, as if the weight you carried was too much to bear alone. And though you were still just a teenager, still supposed to be discovering the joys and freedoms of youth, there was an undeniable gravity about you, a maturity born out of hardship that no one your age should have had to endure.

She had gone straight to Mapí, her heart heavy with worry and a sense of urgency she couldn’t ignore. Mapí had always been her anchor, the one person she could turn to when everything else seemed to be spiralling out of control. There was a comfort in Mapí’s presence, a kind of steady reassurance that made the world feel a little less chaotic. And in that moment, when she felt like she was drowning in her own thoughts, there was no one else she could think of who could help her make sense of it all.

As she approached Mapí, she could see the girl was already watching her, those perceptive eyes filled with a quiet understanding. Mapí had always been like that – intuitive, almost as if she could sense when something was wrong without a single word being spoken. It was as if she could read the unspoken emotions, the things that others overlooked or dismissed, and she knew just how to respond without being told.

“I’m worried about her,” Ingrid said quietly to Mapí, her voice tinged with concern as she gestured with her head in your direction. There was a seriousness in her tone that caught Mapí’s attention immediately. Ingrid wasn’t one to express worry lightly; if she was concerned, it meant something was truly wrong.

“Who?” Mapí asked, her brow furrowing slightly as she tried to follow Ingrid’s line of sight. She turned to see who Ingrid was referring to, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on you.

“Den lille,” Ingrid replied softly. It was a name that fit you perfectly, even though you were no longer a small child. To Ingrid, you would always be den lille, the one who needed looking after, the one she couldn’t help but worry about.

Mapí’s gaze lingered on you, taking in the way you sat off to the side, your shoulders hunched slightly as if you were trying to make yourself invisible. She saw the way your fingers absentmindedly traced the edges of your shorts, a nervous habit she had noticed before but never truly understood until now. There was something about your posture, the way you seemed so withdrawn, that tugged at her heart. You looked like you were carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders, and it didn’t sit right with Mapí.

“She’s been different lately,” Ingrid continued, her voice barely above a whisper, as if saying the words out loud would somehow make them more real. “I’m scared, María.”

Mapí’s heart ached at Ingrid’s words. The concern in Ingrid’s voice was palpable, a stark contrast to the usual composed and confident demeanour she typically displayed. The way Ingrid had hesitated before speaking, the trembling edge to her voice, suggested that this was more than just a fleeting worry – it was a deep, gnawing fear that had taken root in her heart.

Mapí turned her full attention to you, her eyes softening. There was an undeniable shift in your demeanour that had been building over time, and it was clear now that Ingrid’s fears were not unfounded. The way you sat, so isolated and withdrawn, seemed like a cry for help that was too quiet to be heard. Mapí could feel the gravity of the situation pressing down on her, the realisation that something needed to be done before it was too late.

“Ale will know what to do,” Mapí said with false bravado, trying to mask the tremor in her voice behind a veneer of confidence. Her words were meant to reassure Ingrid, to offer a glimmer of hope amidst the growing uncertainty, but inside, she felt a pang of doubt.

Mapí had always relied on Alexia’s wisdom and experience, believing her to be someone who could handle even the most complex of situations with ease. She had a way of approaching problems with calm assurance and a strategic mindset that often brought clarity and solutions where there seemed to be none. Mapí hoped that, with Alexia’s involvement, they could find a way to help you navigate the turmoil you were experiencing.

She knew, however, that this situation was different. The weight of it felt heavier, more personal. Her usually steadfast confidence was being tested, and despite her efforts to maintain a brave front, she couldn’t completely suppress the anxiety that gnawed at her.

Ingrid glanced at Mapí, a mixture of hope and scepticism in her eyes. “You really think so?” she asked, her voice laced with both trust and apprehension.

“Absolutely,” Mapí replied, her tone firm despite the fluttering unease in her chest.

Alexia had noticed the changes in you too, though her observations were more subtle, filtered through a lens of quiet concern rather than overt worry. She had seen you through different stages of life, from the carefree moments of adolescence to the more introspective phases, but lately, something had shifted, and she couldn’t ignore the signs any longer.

It was in the way you interacted with others, or rather, how you had started to withdraw from those interactions. Alexia, who had always admired your vibrant energy and effortless charm, now saw you retreating into yourself. The once bright and engaging conversations seemed to dwindle, replaced by a more subdued presence that she struggled to reconcile with the person she once knew.

She noticed how you would often linger on the periphery of group activities, participating only half-heartedly, if at all. Your laughter, which used to come so easily, had become rare and forced, a stark contrast to the genuine joy that used to light up your face. Even your physical appearance had changed; where there was once a confident posture, there was now a noticeable slouch, a sign of the weight you seemed to be carrying.

Alexia also observed the small, telling habits that had shifted. The way you fidgeted with your clothes or avoided eye contact during conversations spoke volumes about your internal struggle. It was as if you were trying to make yourself as inconspicuous as possible, a stark departure from the once lively and assertive person she had known.

“Ale, we need to talk,” Mapí said firmly, cornering Alexia in the changing rooms after training one afternoon. Her voice was low and serious, carrying an undertone of urgency that instantly drew Alexia’s full attention. The usual post-training chatter and the clamor of lockers being shut were fading into the background as the gravity of Mapí’s tone cut through the noise.

“Is everything okay?” Alexia asked, her voice betraying a hint of concern as she met Mapí’s gaze. The look in Mapí’s eyes was one Alexia hadn’t seen very often – an earnestness and resolve that spoke of something deeper than just a casual chat. The air between them seemed to thicken with unspoken tension, the room suddenly feeling smaller, more confined as the weight of the conversation settled in.

“No, it’s not,” Ingrid replied, her tone steady but laden with emotion.

Three sets of eyes turned to look at you, the subject of their concern. You sat on a bench, somewhat apart from the group, absorbed in your own thoughts, unaware of the intensity of the discussion unfolding just a few feet away. The distance between you and the others was more than physical; it was as though a chasm had opened up, underscoring the emotional divide that had grown.

You looked so tired. It was a weariness that went beyond physical exhaustion, a heaviness that seemed to seep into your very bones. The vibrant energy that once defined you had dimmed, leaving behind a shadow of your former self.

Your eyes, which used to sparkle with curiosity and joy, were now clouded with a fatigue that spoke volumes about the battles you were fighting internally. They were deep and dark, the kind of tiredness that comes from sleepless nights and unspoken worries. The once bright and animated expression you wore had given way to a distant gaze that struggled to focus on the world around you. When you did look up, it was with a slow, measured effort, as if the simple act of meeting someone’s eyes required more energy than you had to spare. Your gaze seemed to drift in and out of focus, mirroring the exhaustion that you felt but could not escape.

Your training top seemed far too big on you now, the fabric hanging off you like a draped shroud. It was as if the clothes themselves reflected the way you had withdrawn from the world; they looked oversized and loose, emphasising the contrast between your current state and the vibrant person you used to be.

Every small movement you made seemed laboured, as though even the simplest actions required a tremendous amount of effort. Your shoulders slouched slightly, as if weighed down by an invisible burden that made every step feel heavier. The casual confidence that once characterised your movements had been replaced by a tentative, almost cautious mannerism, as though you were trying to conserve every ounce of energy you had.

Your breathing was steady but shallow, and every now and then, you let out a sigh that seemed to escape from somewhere deep inside you – a sigh that spoke of exhaustion and resignation. The small, subtle gestures you made, like tucking your hands into your sleeves or curling your legs up on the bench, were instinctive attempts to find some semblance of comfort or protection in a moment where you felt particularly vulnerable.

“Oh, cariño,” Alexia whispered, her heart breaking at the sight of you. The term of endearment slipped from her lips like a soft breath of sorrow, laden with a depth of feeling that words alone could not fully convey. It was a tender utterance meant to bridge the emotional chasm that seemed to separate you from everyone around you.

As Alexia watched you, her eyes were filled with a deep sadness that mirrored the gravity of the moment. The sight of you, sitting apart from the group, lost in your own thoughts, was more than Alexia could bear. Her heart ached as she took in the full extent of your weariness. It was clear that this was not just a fleeting moment of fatigue but a profound, ongoing struggle that had seeped into your very being. The vibrant spirit she once knew seemed overshadowed by a deep, unspoken sorrow that had taken hold.

You weren’t sure why you phoned Ona, out of all people. It wasn’t like you were particularly close with her; in fact, your interactions with her had always been somewhat limited and casual. You knew her mostly through mutual friends and shared activities, exchanging pleasantries and brief conversations but never delving deeply into each other's lives. Yes, you considered her a friend, but your one-on-one time had been minimal, mostly restricted to group settings or casual encounters. She wasn’t someone you confided in regularly, nor did you have a history of sharing personal struggles or intimate details.

Yet, in the midst of your crisis, when everything felt out of control and the world seemed to have narrowed to the confines of your bathroom floor, Ona’s name was the first to come to mind. You sat there, the cold tiles pressing against your legs, a razor gripped tightly in one hand, its cold edge a stark reminder of the darkness you were grappling with. Your thoughts were a swirling mix of desperation and confusion, and in that chaotic mental fog, Ona’s name emerged almost instinctively.

It was an odd choice, and you struggled to understand it yourself. Perhaps it was the nature of your relationship with her – though not deeply personal, it was still a connection that felt solid enough to offer some semblance of support. Sometimes, the familiarity of a person, even if not deeply entrenched, can provide a sense of comfort in moments of profound vulnerability. Ona had always been approachable and kind, traits that, despite the limited interaction, might have seemed reassuring in your current state.

There was also something to be said for the randomness of human emotion and instinct. In moments of deep distress, the mind often grasps at whatever feels familiar, even if it’s not the most logical choice. Ona, being someone who had always been friendly and supportive, perhaps embodied a sense of stability and kindness that was desperately needed in that moment.

“Hola?” Her voice came through the phone, laden with sleep, thick with the grogginess of having been abruptly roused from slumber. There was a softness to her tone, a slow, drowsy lilt that spoke of the deep relaxation she had been in just moments before. The initial, half-hearted curiosity in her voice quickly sharpened into something more alert as she processed the unusual hour and the unexpected call.

“I …” You began, but the words caught in your throat, tangled with the overwhelming emotions that had gripped you. Your voice trembled, barely more than a whisper, laden with a mixture of vulnerability and desperation. It was as if the sheer effort of making the call had drained you, leaving only a fragile thread of sound that barely carried your intent.

“Pequeña?” Ona’s voice was suddenly more awake, filled with concern. The fragility in your voice, so unlike the casual exchanges you had shared before, pierced through her initial drowsiness. The realisation that something was seriously wrong caused her to sit upright in bed, the sense of alarm and urgency pushing away the remnants of sleep.

“Help me,” you managed to utter, the words escaping in a pained whisper

You woke up in hospital. The room cold and sterile. The first thing you noticed was the biting chill that seemed to seep into your very bones, despite the layers of blankets draped over you. The air felt thin and clinical – you had never known such an impersonal space existed. The walls were a clinical shade of white, interrupted only by the occasional piece of medical equipment or the sparse, functional décor meant to provide minimal distraction. The lighting was bright and unyielding, casting a harsh glare that made the room feel even colder and more impersonal. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed softly, their steady hum creating a rhythm that seemed oddly out of place.

Your bed, positioned at the centre of the room, was surrounded by a fortress of medical paraphernalia. An IV drip hung beside you, its clear fluids slowly trickling down a tube that was taped to your arm. The beeping of a heart monitor provided a steady, monotonous cadence, a reminder of the life support systems that were now a part of your immediate environment. The rhythmic sound was oddly comforting and unnerving all at once, a constant reminder of your current state and the care being provided.

The air was filled with a faint, antiseptic scent – a mix of cleaning agents and medicinal odours that seemed to hang in the atmosphere like an unwelcome guest. It was a smell that clung to everything, from the freshly laundered hospital sheets to the disposable gowns and sterile gloves that the medical staff wore.

There was a warm weight in your right hand. It took you a moment to realise what it was. A hand. A hand connected to an arm, that led to a shoulder, that was attached to a whole person. The fingers resting gently in your grasp were familiar and comforting, their gentle pressure offering a steady reassurance. You turned your head slightly, and through the haze of your groggy state, you saw the face of the person whose hand you were holding.

“Hi,” Ona smiled softly, her expression a blend of warmth and reassurance.

“Hi,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. It was a weak echo of her greeting, laden with the exhaustion and vulnerability you felt. Your gaze drifted to the hand still resting in yours. She followed your stare, squeezing gently when she realised what you were looking at.

 “The others have got to get food,” Ona continued, her voice gentle but firm. “It’s just us, if you want to talk.”

“What’s there to talk about?” you countered, the words a defense mechanism. If you denied it, it would all go away.

“Do not play dumb, pequeña.” Ona’s voice carried a note of gentle reproach. Her tone was soft but resolute.

“I …” you began, but the words seemed to falter before they could take shape. The enormity of your emotions was difficult to articulate, and the effort to speak felt almost insurmountable. You struggled to find the right words, your thoughts jumbled and disjointed.

But how could she truly understand? What little you knew about her life seemed almost painfully perfect by comparison. From the outside, Ona’s existence appeared to be a seamless tapestry of success and happiness. Her football career was thriving, each game a testament to her skill and dedication. She was admired and celebrated by teammates and fans alike, her talent on the field a source of pride and achievement.

Her relationship was also the stuff of dreams. Ona had Lucy, someone who seemed to bring out the best in her, their interactions marked by genuine affection and mutual support. They were often seen together, sharing moments of joy and laughter that spoke of a deep and abiding connection. Their bond was one of those rare partnerships that seemed to transcend the everyday challenges, offering a glimpse into a love that was both passionate and enduring.

Her circle of friends appeared to be equally ideal. They were supportive and loyal, always there for one another through thick and thin. The camaraderie and warmth of their friendship were evident in the way they interacted, their shared moments of happiness and mutual encouragement. It was a friendship that seemed to offer a solid foundation, a network of support that was both comforting and reliable.

And then there was her family – an image of stability and happiness. They were often seen together, their interactions filled with laughter and love. The family dynamic seemed to be one of mutual respect and genuine affection, a supportive backdrop to Ona’s life that added to the picture of her seemingly perfect existence.

In contrast, your own life felt chaotic and fraught with difficulties. The weight of your struggles seemed all the more daunting when juxtaposed against Ona’s polished image. It was easy to feel that her understanding of your pain was limited, that the perfection you saw in her life might somehow preclude her from fully grasping the depth of your own challenges. You wondered if her empathy was genuine or if it was simply a reflection of her innate kindness, an attempt to reach across the chasm of your differences and offer comfort despite the apparent disparity between your lives.

“If you don’t want to talk yet, that’s fine. But let me show you something.” She pushed up her sleeve.

C O N T ; N U E

“You’re not alone in this, pequeña. No one is ever alone.” Ona’s voice was steady, a soft but firm anchor amidst the storm. She shifted slightly, her fingers gently tracing over a tattoo on her arm. “I got this just after I moved to England,” she began, her tone becoming more reflective. “I felt so alone. I didn’t speak the language very well, I had no friends, and we were in lockdown. Everything was different.” Her gaze softened as she looked at the tattoo, her fingers moving lightly over its surface, as if the act itself was a form of remembering and honouring a past struggle.

The room seemed to grow quieter, the beeping of the monitors and the distant murmur of the hospital blending into a background hum as Ona continued. “I almost did it, y’know. I was really, really close – had the bottle and everything.” Her voice wavered slightly, a rare crack in the veneer of her composed exterior. “I haven’t even told Lucy this.” She laughed humourlessly.

“Why didn’t you?” you asked, the question hanging in the air.

Ona took a deep breath, her eyes meeting yours as she smiled gently. “Alessia knocked on my door. She noticed I looked a little down and came to check on me. I don’t know if she saw the pills or not, but she stayed with me all day.” The warmth in her eyes deepened as she spoke. “She asked me to teach her some Spanish, she taught me how to make pasta from scratch. She didn’t let me leave her side for three days. Even then, as soon as she left Tooney appeared.”

“Wh-why are you telling me this?” Your voice quivered, the words struggling to get out over the lump in your throat.

Ona’s eyes softened with a blend of compassion and determination. “So that you know you’re not alone,” she began, her voice steady and full of quiet resolve. “I don’t know the ins and outs of what you’re going through, but just know that I’m here, we all are. We aren’t going anywhere.” She promised.

She paused, allowing her words to settle, as if to let the depth of her meaning fully resonate. You blinked, trying to hold back the flood of emotions that were threatening to overwhelm you. Tears began to well up in your eyes. The tears were a mixture of relief and sadness.

“You are loved, pequeña. So, so loved. And we will be here for you, no matter what, no matter how long it takes.”

[our-hextech-dream]

i haven't seen anyone fully articulate what i personally felt disappointed by wrt viktor's s2 persona and ending so i guess i have to do it myself even tho i'm bad at talking!! can someone who is better at this just read my mind and say it fancier and more coherently?

agency, the loss of

i have seen people already mention the way disability came into play at the end and what a wild choice it was for jayce - born able-bodied and healthy - to be the one to tell viktor - trapped in a body that was actively killing him - that actually your disability is a part of you and made you who you are and you owe everything to it. ... huh? jayce (by which i mean the writers), do you think without his disability, viktor wouldn't have still been a genius? yes, viktor is disabled - that's not even remotely what makes him a compelling character and power player. it is his mind not his body that makes him who he is. the fact that he had to waste almost his whole life fighting against that body to achieve anything is the entire crux of his frustration - imagine what he could have dedicated his mind to if he weren't constantly struggling to find a way just to survive another year, another month, another week, one more day. have you thought about it? because he has. so yeah that whole conversation, trash. bruno mars just the way you are ass one direction that's what makes you beautiful ass argument. viktor was not going crazy over cosmetic surgery, he was trying not to die.

but it strikes me as just one more expression of an overarching theme for s2 viktor - that of the complete and total loss of his agency. (more on a meta level than in the show itself, but also in the show!) i said after act 1 that viktor had died in that explosion and jayce was going to be chasing that corpse until the end, and i was correct. viktor bounced from one mindset to another, never seeming to have any consistent ideology of his own that couldn't be changed as soon as the plot demanded it. at any given point he was just kinda... wandering around, doing some random shit with the powers that worked through him. gone was the viktor who used his own hands and mind to influence the world directly, to bend it to his will. i always always felt this and i stand by it - taking viktor's abilities as an inventor and scientist away and turning him into some arcane mage jesus figure was a mistake and a disservice to his character. arcane said no this boy wasn't smart or determined, his ability to build and invent and seek and learn don't matter and never mattered, he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and as soon as the arcane got its goop on him he just became the most specialest magic pixie dream boy to ever live and his own goals, dreams, ideals, morals, talents, skills, and hard work ceased to matter in any meaningful way. he never had to work to master magic to be able to use it to further his goals, because he immediately stopped having goals.

viktor became a non-character. he became whatever ideological and technological threat level the show needed to challenge to heroes and never more. he ceased to have any control or understanding over what was happening to him, rather he just gave up and decided to use his magic indiscriminately for whoever made the most convincing argument, a choice that would have been completely antithetical to his character up to that point if he'd still been alive. 'fuck zaunites, sure i'll turn them into robots so a foreign power can use them to attack and take over piltover and zaun, who cares. it's not like these are the people i've spent 30 years of my life trying to protect and save.' <- something viktor would never ever ever have agreed to! ever! no matter what! they have played us for absolute fools.

ambiguity, the loss of

the thing i wanted the most and was expecting because of the way viktor's original lore was set up was that the series would end with viktor and jayce unreconciled and with mutually exclusive worldviews, both fully believing they were right and the other was misguided but not evil or irredeemable, setting them up for future conflict. this felt like what was being set up when arcane made it a plot point that jayce was being convinced to turn hextech into weapons while viktor started getting unethical and unhinged with the experimentation. they both had good reasons to do what they did - and i'm absolutely not going to insult jayce's intelligence by claiming he was just manipulated into it by anyone, give me a fucking break - but the point was that both of them were doing something the other thought was misguided and dangerous. and they also felt that if they could just make the other person see their completely logical and rational pov, they could fix the divide between them and make up and be best science buddies again.

but then at the end arcane completely gave up on viktor having any belief in his own ideals. it just turned into 'aw actually he was just lonely all along and none of that science stuff or difference in morals or worldviews mattered bc he's got a buddy now and he's completely unequivocally on jayce's side. :)'

it was like. insanely selfish. as in, self-centered, concerned *only* with the self. the viktor i liked, and the one i wanted to flourish and hoped arcane would canonize, was someone who was entirely dedicated to zaun, to righting the wrongs of piltover and helping the people in the way he thought best - no matter what jayce or piltover thought about it. an ambiguous villain, just like all the other really well-written ones in arcane.

accountability, the loss of

viktor killed people. not sky, who was an accident despite his fixation on her; i'm talking at least a hundred or more zaunites during his stint as the machine herald. he ripped their minds out and made them play house with him, then turned them into weapons of war for ambessa's siege, and all of those people - primarily sick, desperate zaunites - died. this was always the entire crux of the conflict between (league) viktor and jayce giopara. viktor was willing to destroy people and use their bodies for his own gain unapologetically because he thought what he was doing was a blessing and the people were better off under his control because they would never feel fear or anger again. agree, disagree, depends on your view of free will and human nature, but the fact is that everyone who came to viktor hoping for a chance to be healed so they could pursue their own dreams and lives had those dreams and lives ripped away from them and they never got justice or even a single scrap of acknowledgement from the narrative.

in arcane, the horror of viktor's actions just... fade away into the background. viktor and jayce waltz off into magicspace together, leaving viktor's dead, ruined victims for piltover and zaun to deal with. he doesn't return their minds or bodies, he doesn't even seem to remember or care about what he had just been doing to other sentient living human beings. he's not sorry, he doesn't feel regret, he got what he wanted (a friend) and fuck everybody else.

because the narrative just shrugs and handwaves and says no no forget all that it doesn't matter it was just the hexcore or whatever, viktor becomes a flat, uninteresting character. he loses the depth that villains like ambessa and silco had, villains who had their victims validated by the story, who faced challenges in their arcs specifically because of the people they had hurt despite thinking they were doing the right or noble or most important thing. and not just the villains! even the heroes had to wrestle with the people they stepped on on the way to their lofty goals. but not viktor. he just floats away scot free, completely blameless, having no affect on the world and the world having no affect on him.

on arcane's status as the new canon lore and the Implications™

reminder that arcane is somehow supposed to tie into the world of runeterra at large, but now viktor and jayce both have been seemingly entirely removed from it. if it only mattered that they knew the people we'd already seen them interact with, okay, i guess. but that isn't the case. they both have a ton of connections to other champions - from regions other than p&z even - that haven't been introduced and don't have any plausible explanation for how they could have met in the past, which means they should have been set up to meet somehow in the future. implying that jinx escaped and has gone traveling the world is the perfect way to incorporate her in-game relationships with people like lux - she could have met her while traveling! but jayce and viktor don't get that plausible continuation of their story and development of further relationships - they just disappear out of existence. (ambessa also has this problem because they killed her, but unlike jayce and viktor she does have a huge amount of unexplored backstory where she could have spoken to (for example) swain and hwei and shyvanna at some point.)

note 1 - jayce and viktor are so old that they don't have any voice lines in game when meeting other champions. but other champions who are either newer or who have had voiceover updates do talk to them, which is how (aside from the old lore) you can infer that they do have relationships with other champions including ones who weren't in arcane.

note 2 - maybe riot actually doesn't care and none of the champions are really supposed to know each other or be involved in each others' lives canonically, they just have random quippy voice lines that imply that. which would fucking suck. having the lore of the game have no impact on the game itself and vice versa would objectively suck. if the characters talk to each other on the rift and say something interesting, i want that to have meaning. i want to be able to extrapolate the state of the world and the relationships between the characters from the things they verbally say with their mouths. i'm not arguing about this. the voicelines should be seen as the most high irrefutable canon that there is for the game because it is the ONLY source of lore in the game itself.

anyways there's my bible i guess. i miss evil laser robot viktor i want him to perform unethical brain surgery on me (fixing my adhd but also turning me into his personal puppet attack dog) and then give a weapon to a child so they can kill their bullies.

[haute-pockette]

The Doctor being disabled.

Every incarnation sitting somewhere on the autism spectrum. Their stims and behaviors vary between incarnations.

First doctor with alexithymia. On Gallifrey it was fine, ignored. A "superior race" that prided itself in observation without interference doesn't put too much stalk in compassion. But meeting humans up close with Barbara and Ian started him down a path of learning to put words to his own feelings as well as others.

As his body aged he also developed arthritis. The cane was for mobility as much as it was for style. He learned the hard way that aspirin is not Gallifreyan friendly (he survived the small dose, but it scared the hell out of Susan).

Two with lots of physical stims. All his gestures and wringing his hands, grabbing onto companions.

Dyspraxic Two. Chicken scratch handwriting, stumbling over his words and his feet. He really leans into tactile sensations whether it's the texture of his clothes or holding onto a companion, it was always grounding for him.

Third tended to shut down more than his first two since the constant stress and frustration of exile had him already wound pretty tight. He'll lock himself in the lab and just put himself on autopilot until he recharges enough to deal with whatever shenanigans are happening.

Three has tinnitus that of various sounds including almost like the tardis materialization sound. He often has to look up to check if the Master is showing up to bother him or not.

Four has ADHD alongside with autism. He struggles with constantly running from responsibility and wanting to have some sense of control of situations.

It's one of those snowballs of procrastination causing anxiety which causes him to procrastinate further. Unless it's urgently life threatening, his stress response is freeze.

Five masks and suppresses his emotions in an attempt to blend with neurotypicals more since he's self-conscious of his previous "eccentricity" as Four. It causes a lot of strain between him and Tegan after Earthshock.

Peripheral neuropathy causing muscle weakness in his legs cause of the difficult regeneration. Look how much he falls over and leans on the tardis console, he can't stand straight for long periods of time without aids. Usually has braces, but will use a cane around the tardis (would use the wheelchair but it's dead in the Castrovalva river).

Six gets overstimulated easier than some, especially by noises and textures. Usually that with things not going accordingly tends to set off meltdowns. Ever since he hurt Peri he turns his energy on himself instead.

Bipolar Six. He tends to handle mania better than depression, at least when he has too much energy he knows he can spend it and try to get it out. He'll usually park the tardis somewhere his companion can enjoy and shut himself away in the cloister room or zero room when at the worst of his lows.

Also type 1 diabetic six, regenerating from poison fucked with his metabolism. He is careful to take care of his blood sugar, but he's terrible at remembering to stay hydrated. That's why Mel is always shoving carrot juice at him.

Seven has ADD (yes I know it's technically "ADHD of the predominantly inattentive type" but ADD is easier). ADD as in he's always in his own head, always five points ahead of the conversation. His train of thought is incomprehensible to most, but there is a string of logic to it.

Dyspraxic Seven with an abnormal gait and stance. Bad posture makes him look shorter than he is. Only he can read his own handwriting, which he insists is not as bad as it is.

[mj0702]

The other Bronze – Pt.8

Okay... this is the last Barça part for now (hold your pitchforks - we will get back to Barcelona in the future)

I feel different about this chapter since there's less chaos and more feels but I still hope you like it❤️

I can't put into words how much I appreciate all your support especially @samkerrworshipper and @valewosomtb but also all you anons like my lunatic and gold star ❤️❤️ now go and enjoy 11k of Bronzeness

As soon as Keira and you entered her flat she retreated to the kitchen letting you standing in the hallway

“You need help Kei?” you asked knowing full well she'll decline since you got banned from kitchen duty after you nearly cut off your hand when you wanted to help her and Lucy one night (back in the day back in england) and the night ended in hospital

“You already know the answer to that, Bitsy... go shower...” you heard her yelling back as you heard pots clatter

“I showered at the Beach... with the sexy spaniard” you said now moved to stand in the kitchen entrance

“And then you went to have your little outbreak in the Sea... believe me... you'll want to shower or you'll wake up in the middle of the night itching and scratching your skin off... and I swear to god if you wake me up at 2AM because you decide it would be a good time to shower I'll have your head” the blonde englishwoman answered measuring some stuff for your requested Shepherds pie

“But I don't have my shower stuff here and yours is so... flowery” you whined

“Your choice Bitsy... but I really will have your head if you wake me up in the middle of the night...” Keira looked at you raising an eyebrow in challenge

“Ugh” you huffed pushing yourself of the doorframe as you dragged yourself towards her bathroom

“Good choice” you heard the blonde yelling after you and you could hear the smirk in her voice

“Good choice” you imitated her under your breath “I'm gonna smell like a fucking field of poppies”

After 20 Minutes you cracked opened the door of the bathroom a little bit to yell for Keira

“Keira???!!!” you yelled loudly so she would hear you in the kitchen

“What?” she yelled back and you could hear a nuance of annoyance in her voice

“I forgot clothes” you yelled as Keira stayed in the kitchen and you didn't want to leave the bathroom in your (her) towel

“Ugh kid... I still don't know how you survive without me constantly around” she said as she came out of the kitchen walking down the hall to get you some clothes

“I have a good system of supporting people around me... I refer to them as my cult” you said as she passed you “they make sure I don't die – they're too scared of you”

“I bet... let me guess... Mary, Millie, Rachel, Tooney and Russo?” Keira rolled her eyes knowing you have basically all her lionesses teammates wrapped around your pinkie and if you just look at them with HALF a puppy eye they all scramble to grant you every wish

“And Hempo and Meado and Scotto and Viv and Daan and Greensie and ChloChlo and Leila and Guerrero and Stina and Lia and Kimmi and...” you counted on your fingers smirking as Keira made her way back to you some shorts and a shirt in her hand

“God... you really always get whatever you want” she rolled her eyes but a smile tugged on her lips

“Not everything... otherwise you'd be a Bronze” you shrugged your shoulders as you took the pieces of clothing out of her hand and shut the door

“Don't do that Bitsy...” Keira sighed against the door “... it's not your fault”

“But it feels like it” you answered from inside the bathroom fighting with your balance as you tried to get into the shorts but struggled since you suddenly were overcome with a wave of dizziness

“It's not... stop telling yourself that... it just happened Bitsy...” Keira answered softly as she heard a crashing sound from the inside “You okay Bits?” she asked a little concerned

“All good” you said quickly picking yourself up from inside the shower you fell backwards into “Got stuck on the shorts”

“Dear jesus chirst kid.... I swear you're so clumsy at this point it's more luck than sanity that you're still alive...” the blonde huffed out

You tried to stand up again only to find the room spinning again so you decided to do something you hated doing

“Kei help please....” you said your voice low

Keira knew that when you actually asked for help it was a serious matter so she quickly pushed the door open to find you sitting in the shower back against the tiles

“What's wrong Bits?” she asked concerned crouching down in front of you

“Room's spinning” you mumbled

“You have a headache too?” the blonde asked already knowing what's wrong with you

“Little bit...” you answered honestly

“You have a sunstroke Bits...” Keira smiled lightly “Not used to the spanish sun...”

“Is not fun” you mumbled trying to contain the nausea

“Come on Bits...” the blonde huffed pulling you up into a standing position but keeping a good hold of you “... you gonna lay down on the couch and rest okay...” she said before leading you back into the livening room minus the shorts so you were just in your boxers and a sports bra

“My shorts” you whined

“First... these are MY shorts and secondly... you don't need shorts.. it's just me” Keira said softly before deposing you on the couch “Gonna bring you some water okay”

“Kei...” you whined “... I'm not feeling good”

“I know Bitsy... I know” the blonde sighed before getting you the promised water

“Why am I feeling sick?” you whined turning onto your side

“Sunstroke Bitsy... drink some water... it'll help I promise” Keira said lovingly as she stroke softly through your hair

You carefully took small sips of water as Keira decided to sit down by your head her hand never leaving your face. Softly stroking through your hair, over your forehead or caressing your cheek smiling softly as you continue to whine about how bad you felt

“Take a nap Bitsy.... that'll help too” the blonde englishwoman spoke lowly as she saw your eyes dropping

“You not mad anymore?” you asked half asleep

“I was never mad Bitsy... I was scared” Keira said softly “You mean the world to me, Bitsy and alone the thought of loosing you without being able to do anything scared me – really scared me”

“You mean the world to me too Kei... you're always there” you sighed as Keira started to lightly scratch your scalp

“I've seen you grow up Bits... you fought so many battles and still grew into an amazing person I can't nor do I want to imagen a world without you in it... you have so much more to explore and offer and seeing you out there... without anyone responsible near it squeezed all air out of my lungs Bits... you really can't do things like that” you heard the crack in her voice at the end and force your eyes open again.

Even with your blurred eyesight you could make out Keiras tears

“Kei...” you said lowly waiting for her to look at you “... nothing's gonna happen to me... the stupid always have the luck on their side... so I'm safe... won't leave you Kei... you're my sister too you know... and most of the time you're the better sister.. I love Luce really love her – but I love you just as much because I know you're always there for me... I promise I won't leave you Kei...”

“You can't promise something like this Bitsy... because if you ever break this promise I'm gonna break... not only are you like a sister to me, you are basically my child...” Keira said her voice heavy

“I never broke a promise with you” you said your voice insisted looking her straight in the eye “I never did and I never will...”

“I need you to PROMISE me to start thinking before you do things Bits...” the blonde said and you knew you would never EVER break that promise

“I promise...” you just answered and Keira could hear the honesty in your voice “But you need to promise to never leave me”

“I promise Bitsy... wherever I end up either in my career or afterwards... I'll be always there for you” Keira said softly

“Good... because let's be honest if I have to live of Luces cooking I'm gonna be gone pretty quickly because of food poisoning” you said as a matter of fact

“She got better... she doesn't burn the pasta anymore...” Keira smiled through her tears

“Kei... she was meant to BOIL the pasta... she's the only person I know who burns pasta in cooking water!!!! And she stuffed fish-fingers in a toaster and nearly burned our flat down!!” you exclaimed bewildered

“I know... she had some... questionable ideas” Keira tried to find the right words

“She has shit ideas when it comes to cooking,... I mean who thinks it's a good idea to serve RAW fish” you exclaimed loudly

“To her defence... sushi is raw fish” the blonde said

“WHEN IT'S FRESH IT IS.... this... thing was probably a week old... and on top of that she KNOWS I hate fish” you couldn't contain your outburst

“Fish is good...” Keira smiled knowing just how much you despise it

“Nope... nuh-uh.... it's disgusting... it normally looks at you when served...” you shook your head which reminded you immediately of your nausea again “Uh... wrong move” you mumbled

“Oh Bitsy...” the blonde sighed putting her hand against your forehead “You're burning up... I'll get you some paracetamol and then you'll have a nap... if you feel up to it later we can eat a little bit and then off to bed you scramble”

“Ugh please no paracetamol” you whined

“Ah yeah... I always forget that you always get sick from paracetamol... Aspirin it is then...” the blonde said pitiful as she softly stroke over your forehead experienced first hand before how bad a sunstroke feels

“Can I call G?” you whined miserable

“Of course Bitsy... why are you asking?” Keira asked confused

“Didn't know if you'd be a fan of me calling her... Lucy is not a fan” you mumbled your eyes already dropping again

“Lucy is very much a fan... but more and foremost she's your sister... she swore to protect you Bitsy” the blonde chuckled getting her phone from the side table dialling Georgias number

“Hey best friend... what gives me the unwanted pleasure of you calling me?” Georgias happy voice came out of the speaker and you could hear the smile in her voice

“You really milking that best friend card since Leah is out” Keira deadpanned but couldn't help but smile too

“I mean... I take what I can get...” the younger blonde said grinning “But seriously... what can I help you with”

“Not me.... but you could help your girlfriend out” Keira chuckled

“Ehrm... while you're there?” Georgia asked unsure and you could just picture how her cheeks flush and she rubbed the back of her neck

“Dear jesus... not like that” Kei exclaimed “What is wrong with you??”

“I haven't seen her in WEEKS, Kei... WEEKS...” the younger blonde insistent

“I don't CARE” Keira said back just as insistent

“G” you whispered exhausted

“Hey baby” immediately your girlfriends voice changed into a soft caring low tone

Keira left to finally get the shepherds pie into the oven but still was listening to your conversation with one and a half ear

“Not feeling good” you whispered

“What happened baby...” Georgia asked softly

“Parrently M not used to sun” you mumbled

“You're english... of course we're not used to sun...” your girlfriend chuckled lightly “... what you need from me baby?”

“Just talk... M sleepy” you mumbled your speaking slurred with sleep

“Usual topics?” Georgia double checked softly

“Mhm” you mumbled confirming

“Okay... sooooo... I kinda overslept this morning... but just like... 20 Minutes – still made it to training in time but I couldn't stop at that little bakery.. you know the one on the corner with the colourful dotty thingies on the windows... but I'll make sure to stop there tomorrow again...” Georgia began to lowly tell you about her day with all the little details as you slipped into a peaceful slumber

As your girlfriend heard your even breathing she stopped talking for a second before asking

“Keira?”

“Yes?” the blonde answered

“She asleep?” Georgia asked already knowing the answer

“What do you really want to ask, G? What's on your mind?” Keira chuckled

“How mad is Lucy?” your girlfriend mumbled concerned

“Lucy isn't mad... she's protective... I can promise you deep down inside she's relieved it's you... you're a good person, G and Luce knows that... and I'm happy it's you – because let's be real for a second... any girl Bitsy would have brought home would run for the hills after a “talk” from Lucy Bronze – you can handle that just fine. So Lucy isn't mad... but you're dating her baby sister... she swore to protect her no matter what since the moment she found out y/n will be a girl... and she waited 16 years to give someone “The Talk”... so she'll act all overprotective and threatening and what not but in secret she's happy for the two of you... just let her waltz over you with her “If you're hurting her”-talk and smile politely” Keira said knowing G needs some reassurance right now “Just... don't kiss her in front of Lucy right away... baby sister and all that”

“No kissing got it” G repeated nodding her head – even if no one could see it

“I didn't said no kissing... I said no kissing in front of Luce” the blonde corrected her younger friend

“Isn't that the same thing?” Georgia asked confused

“Gosh G... get creative... didn't YOU tell me about 30 minutes ago you haven't seen your girl for weeks” Keira huffed out as she left the living room with her phone to check on the shepherds pie

“I mean... yeah... but that would involve a lot more than kissing” G answered and Keira could hear her embarrassment

“I love you G, I really do... but I won't cover for you or get Lucy of your backs.... just saying” the blonde said as she pulled dinner out of the oven

“Can we not... talk about that... maybe?” your girlfriend asked even more embarrassed

“We're grown ups, G... we can talk about sex” Keira rolled her eyes before speaking to herself “Do I wake you up Bitsy or not?”

“Why do you want to wake her up? I literally just put her to sleep” Georgia ignored the first part and just jumped on the you-waggon

“She should eat... but as you said... she just fell asleep...” Keira mumbled looking over to your sleeping form

“Wake her... I still got time so I can bore her to sleep again” G said happily

“How often do you talk anyway?” Keira asked finding it quiet endearing how your relationship blossomed and she was very grateful that she was one of the first (if not the first) to witness it

“You mean like now? Or texting?” your girlfriend asked

“Like now.... you immediately knew what she needed – it's cute” the blonde grinned

“Every Day... even when I have games we make time... if it's just five minutes” Georgia said and Keira could hear how important it was for the younger girl

“Didn't peck you as a routine girl, G” Keira teased her friend

“It's important to her....” your girlfriend answered and her voice showed nothing but love for you.

“God G... you sound like your neck deep in love” the blonde chuckled but was met with silence from the other end

“G??” Keira asked kinda bewildered

“Yeah... still there” the younger one mumbled ashamed

“Talk to me G” the blonde encouraged her

“I know it sounds stupid but... god Kei I do love her... I know we haven't dated for long but... I can see her as my forever... I know it's early to say something like that but it feels so different with her... good different...” Georgia tried to put her feelings into word

“Calm down G... it's okay.. it's just me... honestly... I can see it too – you shouldn't say anything like that to Luce tho... at least not for the next... 10.... no... 25 years” Keira said softly and tried to lighten the mood a little bit

“It just... it scares me a little bit I never felt like this about anyone” Georgia explained

“G... if you know, you know... and it's okay to get scared or overwhelmed... but you need to talk to someone – ideally with y/n but you can always talk to me too... keep communicating” the blonde said trying to calm her friend down

“I just never felt like this... like... she's my air you know... god I sound so cheesy... but when I look at her nothing else matters... when she smiles it's like getting hit with a truck and Kei.... when she laughs... it's the most beautiful sound in the world” your girlfriend said and Keira could just HEAR the love

“Tell her G... tell her that every day... because even if they always act so tough... both of them Bronzes need to hear things like that” Keira said softly

“How do you know?” Georgia asked confused

“And she's back” the blonde rolled her eyes “Why do all of you always forget that I dated a Bronze.... for YEARS”

“Ah yeah... you dated the other Bronze” your girlfriend laughed

“Technically I dated the one Bronze... you date the other Bronze” Keira said

Suddenly there was a crashing sound from the living room followed by a whined “Keira” and Keira groaned

“She fell of the couch again?” Georgia asked knowingly

“Yep.... catch you later G... I have to go aid your girlfriend” the blonde huffed

“Tell her I love her, yeah” your girlfriend said hopefully

“Will do... see you in a few days in Camp G... and G” Keira said

“Yeah?”

“You're good for her... Lucy will see this too... so don't let Luce push you around... stand up for your relationship” the blonde said and her voice had a loving tone

“Thanks Kei... I mean it” your girlfriend answered honesty

“KEIRAAAAA” you whined from the floor of the living room

“COMING... jesus...” the blonde yelled back “See you in a few day G...” she said before ending the call

“What happened there Bitsy, hm?” the blonde asked you as she knelt down beside you

“Fell off” you mumbled

“I see that” Keira chuckled “You want to go back to sleep or eat a little bit”

“Shepherds pie?” you asked your eyes shining hopefully

“Waiting in the Kitchen” the blonde smiled as she pulled you up by your good wrist “After that you go straight to bed, do you hear me?”

“Yeah mom” you mumbled and Keira noticed you're definitely still asleep

Keira basically had to feed you since you nearly face planted into your plate several times before she dragged you back to her guestroom. As usual you didn't want to sleep alone so you just started to whine until the blonde gave in once again leading you towards her bedroom. You were dead asleep the second your head hit the pillow so Keira just threw a blanket over you and went back to the living room after she cleaned the kitchen and started packing for her (hopefully) call-up to national camp. Just as Kei was halfway through her packing her phone rang and Lucys name showed up on the display

“What can I do for you ex?” she grinned into the phone as she locked her phone in between her ear and shoulder to have her hands free

“Hello to you too other mother of my princess... Bubs around?” Lucy shot back but Keira knew she wasn't serious

“OUR princess, ex...” the blonde corrected grinning “Nope... your sister is dead to the world in my bed”

“I KNEW there was something going on... G is just a cover, innit?” Lucy exclaimed and faked being shocked

“Oh no... you figured us out” Keira answered monotonous and pausing for a second before starting to chuckle “What you need from her? Not that I could get her up anyway but I'm sure she'll be up at some point in the night”

“I actually need YOU” Lucy mused and Keira heard the slight begging undertone

“Oh my Luce... I thought we were past the sex with the ex act... does Ona know what you're proposing right now?” the blonde just couldn't give up such an opportunity to tease her ex girlfriend

“Oh my god... no... not for that... that front is very well covered thank you very much...” your sister stuttered shocked which caused Keira to start laughing “I need you to bring y/n with you to training tomorrow...”

“That's a given” Keira rolled her eyes “You think I'm gonna leave her out of my sight after the stunt she pulled today?”

“... as fast asleep as possible” Lucy finished her sentences ignoring Keiras interruption

“She definitely outgrown the dino-harness...” the blonde said knowing exactly what Lucy was planning

“I... modified it?” your sister said slowly

“Modified it?” Keira asked confused

“The buckle just works like I belt... so I strapped a belt into the buckle so it would fit...” Lucy said reluctantly

“She will throw a whole ass tantrum you know that right... and you want me to get involved as well” the blonde said warningly

“I know... but come on Kei... she proved today that she actually is not grown up enough to be left to her own devices...” your sister huffed out

“Did it accrue to you that she actually IS grown up enough and she just lets her guard down around you because she knows you're the only person in the entire world that will always be in her corner no matter what... I mean... except for me” Keira said and she knew she hit a nerve when there was no come back from the other end of the line

“I was scared Kei” Lucy admitted her voice low

“I know... I was scared too Luce... but she's growing up... you have to let her make mistakes” the blonde sighed knowing it was so hard to let you off the (imaginary) leash

“I know... but let me have my moment tomorrow.. I'm taking the blame... tell her you didn't knew” Lucy begged a little bit

“If she doesn't talk to you for weeks don't come to me crying” Keira warned “You have a girlfriend for that now... not my problem anymore”

“Deal... but I promise I'll get in her good books at end of training again” your sister said and Kei could hear her grin

“Do I want to know?? I feel a headache forming” the blonde mumbled

“I'll let her drive my Cupra... we just need to wait long enough till the parking lot is empty” your sister said excited thinking she could fulfil a wish for you

“Oh Luce” Keira sighed

“I know... she's going to be so happy” Lucy could hardly contain her excitement

“Oh you have no idea” the blonde tried to warn her friend without saying too much

What Lucy of course didn't knew was that Jill (Scott), Millie and Rachel gifted you 10 driving lessons for your birthday – but not just driving lessons they were stunt driving lessons. Of course it was mostly courtesy of Jill who knew a guy who knew a guy who knew a guy. So while your sister was under the dreamy impression that she would make you happy being the first one who's letting you drive (even if it was kinda illegal) you perfected the art of drifting, donuts and race gear shifting. And of course how to use the breaks – you weren't completely stupid. But it was the second best present this day. Jill even went so far in buying you race driver shoes – like formula one shoes.

“So you bring her in tomorrow?” Lucy asked hopefully

“Asleep as possible... I'll get her to Nuo around 8... you better be there and get her in that harness before she interacts with Mapí because that will kick-start her” Keira sighed again knowing tomorrow will be an absolute disaster.

“Thanks Kei” your sister said happily “I'll wait in front of the locker room for you”

“You owe me Luce...” the blonde replied

“What do you want?” Lucy asked interested

“I want to have Narla over Christmas” Keira said

“Hard bargain there, Walsh... but okay... but I get her new years” your sister huffed out

“Okay... 8 o'clock locker room.. if you're late I'll let Mapí talk to her” the blonde threatened playfully

“Aye woman...” Lucy answered and Keira could just picture how she put her hand up to a mock salute

“Hate you” the blonde grinned

“No you don't.... see you tomorrow Kiewa” your sister answered using a stupid nickname you once tried to get spread through national team

Keira just hung up continuing to pack some shirts before she called it a night too. She carefully entered her bedroom to find you still dead asleep but you moved to her side your nose pressed deep into her pillow

“Why can't you always be so sweet?” the blonde mumbled lowly a slight smile on her lips

As if you heard her you started to snore – very lightly which caused Keira to laugh quietly before laying down on your other side. Just like always you immediately noticed the “intruder” as you turned around still asleep as you cuddled up to Keiras side

“Bitsy come on.. wake up... we're leaving in five” Keira shook you awake next morning

“Nooooo...” you whined sleepily turning away from her “... five more minutes”

“We're leaving in five, Bitsy... come on... up and at em” the blonde didn't give up “Up... now... teeth, clothes, car” she said sternly

“Kei... nooooo” you whined trying to get away from her shaking

“Up NOW Bitsy” the blonde got even more firm – which she hated herself for

“Yeah okay... I'm up” you grumbled as you stumbled out of bed and into the bathroom

Exactly 5 minutes later you stood at the door where Keira was waiting for you impatiently. You had your shirt on backwards, Barcelona training kit shorts which were slightly too big for you and a England bucket hat on your head

“Is that my bucky?” the blonde asked confused

“Couldn't find anything else and I'm NOT sitting in the sun today... learned my lesson” you mumbled and Keira noticed how grumpy you were

“Come on Bitsy... I'll get you coffee at Camp Nuo” the blonde said hoping to get your spirits up just a little bit – at this point you'd probably rip Lucys throat apart with your teeth if she'd touch you and buckle you up in the harness. She decided to give Lucy a warning which your sister replied with a thumbs up

“Kay” you mumbled as you stumbled towards Keiras car

23 Minutes later you arrived at Camp Nuo and Keira manoeuvres you expertly through the long hallways

“Jesus... bet some people died in here trying to find a toilet” you grumbled as Keira pushed you around another corner which caused the blonde to chuckle behind you her hand never leaving the small of your back

“Not so bad once you figured it out... you were here before, you know.. you just were very VERY high... Alexia lost you twice – not that your sister knows but still... Capi needed to confine someone” Keira laughed

“I actually don't know... I was high... I know NOTHING from that day” you grumbled as you spotted your sister waiting in front of a door that looked just like the 500 doors you already passed.

“Bon dia Bubs” your sister smiled warmly

“Bon fuck yourself” you grumbled while you walked passed her thinking you need to keep going as Lucy grabbed your shirt to pull you back

“Locker room is this way” she said not letting you get to her nerves as you outright sweared at her.

Next thing you knew was that you were buckled up in something and as you looked down you spotted the familiar face of Bronzo the Bronto (courtesy of Dszenifer who thought it would be funny to name your dino-harness Bronzo). Before your brain could even recognise what just happened you heard Lucy victorious chuckle “Still got it”

“Wha... Wha... Wait what??” you stuttered as you tried to comprehend what just happened

“It's okay Bubs... just want you to be save” Lucy said lowly knowing this could go two ways. Either you accept it since you haven't even had coffee yet OR you could completely explode.

Your brain choose option two for you and you just started to sprint. Your sister didn't see that coming she was more prepared for you to attack her directly so you got a few meters between the two of you before Lucy grabbed the leash tightly in her hand trying to stop your running. What she also wasn't prepared for was the strength you could get out of your fury so Alexia was met with a angry faced running you as she rounded the corner as you basically dragged Lucy behind you who still tried to get you under control

“Bubs come on... calm down” your sister tried again “Bon dia Capi” she smile quickly at Alexia before she got dragged on

“I... don't even want to know” the blonde spaniard mumbled to herself as she continued her way to the locker room

“The Bronzes out there?” Keira asked as Alexia entered the changing room

“This way... Cariño seemed quite aggressive this morning” the blonde pointed to the right

“Yeah... Lucy jumped her with the dino-harness... did anyone had any blood on them?” Keira asked getting a little concerned when Alexia used “aggressive”

“Not that I saw... but the Cariño pulled Lucy around like she weight nothing...” the spaniard answered as she tied her cleats

“Yeah... y/n in a bad mood is someone you don't want to cross...” the blonde englishwoman said as she stood up from her cubical grabbing her water bottle

“And why exactly is Cariño pulling around Lucia?” Alexia now questioned as she copied Keira and grabbed her bottle as well when the two women make their way to the field

“You'll see” Keira grinned knowingly

“Bon dia” the two blonde smiled towards the media staff as they recorded the famous arriving of the players

“LEFT!!! TO THE LEFT!!!!” the whole team heard Lucys yelling and all heads turned towards the tunnel exit

“I'LL PRESENT YOU MY LEFT TO YOUR NOSE IN A SECOND!!!!! LET ME THE FUCK GO!!! THIS IS LITERALLY KIDNAPPING!!!” you shouted back and Keira heard that you were about to lose it

“HA!!!!!” Lucy exclaimed as she pulled you out after her “You admit you're a kid... so you get treated like one.... Bon dia” your sister smiled at the camera having the leash over her shoulder walking slightly hunched forward as you got pulled backwards.

“I swear to god Lucy... I rip you to pieces” you sneered as you passed the media staff

The whole team watched the interaction between the two of you and before you knew it you heard a loud laugh. Mapí just couldn't help herself as she saw you in the bright green dino-harness kicking and pouting like a three year old. You of course didn't think it was funny so you turned and sprinted past Lucy about to fight the tattooed spaniard as Lucy hauled you back

“Nooooo... we don't fight” your sister said sternly as she held the leash tightly digging her feet into the grass so you couldn't pull her along again

“She's laughing” you said accusing and even Lucy saw that your patience’s wearing thin

“Let her Bubs... come on... I even got you some coffee and ice cream” your sister tried to lure you away as Mapí stupidly opened her mouth

“You wearing a kiddie-leash” the spaniard laughed loudly as Ingrid stepped in looking at Lucy

“Where did you find that? That is a great idea!!” the Norwegian asked interested

“Bronzo? Bought it back in Lyon when missy here decided to go on a stroll while I was... occupied and I had to pick her up hours later at a police station” your sister grinned as she playfully tugged on the leash

“You weren’t “occupied” you were shoving your tongue down Keiras throat!!!” you exclaimed aggregated

“I think my life would benefit from something like this as well” Ingrid mused her eyes sparkling

“Why would we need something like this, mi amor?” Mapí now asked confused

Ingrid just raised an eyebrow expectantly at her girlfriend waiting for her to catch on – and finally she did

“NO.... I don’t need something like this... I’m no hija” the tattooed spaniard exclaimed annoyed looking at you pointingly as she referred to you as a child

“You sure sound like one at the moment...” the Norwegian grinned as Mapí pouted and crossed her arms over her chest before sticking out her tongue to you

You tried to get to her again as Alexia now stepped in and stopped you

“cálmate” the blonde spaniard said calmly and the usage of spanish got you out of your head

“Huh?” you asked as you looked at her confused

“cálmate” Alexia repeated softly

“Cellmate?” you asked even more confused “makes no sense dude”

“It means “Calm down” in spanish” the blonde answered her voice calm and low

“Ha... so calm mate is making sense” you said but weirdly you felt much more calm

“It kinda does, doesn't it” the Capitan still kept her voice calm as she grabbed your waist manoeuvring you to the side line without breaking eye contact as she feared you would jump on Mapí and kill her.

Everyone watched the interaction stunned as you just let Alexia carefully move you away from the team. Even Lucy and Keira couldn't believe it since it was normally a fight for hours till you calmed down.

“Shit Capi is good” Lucy mumbled loosening the leash so you wouldn't feel the pressure and would snap again

“Shut up before you shift her focus and we have another fight on our hands” Keira shushed her ex girlfriend warningly

Alexia manoeuvred you into a shady corner the leash now dragging behind you since Lucy had to let go of it to not disturb the little moment you have with her Capitan.

“Are you gonna be good and stay here or do I have to tie this leash to one of the posts?” Alexia asked you quietly but still firmly

“Not gonna run” you mumbled kinda ashamed and embarrassed being strapped into a kiddie-harness right in front of (yet again) world class players “So embarrassing”

“No need to be embarrassed Cariño... we just want you save” the blonde said quietly keeping this interaction as private as possible “And it makes Lucia feel so much better knowing you're save”

“She could just have...” you started but couldn't come up with a reasonable solution

“It's the best solution for now... and after training I'll let you chase Mapí for making fun of you, okay.. now please stay here – I give you the... depth of doubt and won't tie this leash up but if you disappoint me I won't hesitate to do so” Alexia said softly but it was a fair warning to you

“Benefit...” you mumbled not meeting her eyes “It's benefit of the doubt... but thank you”

“If you need something just yell or tell one of the staff members okay?” the blonde smiled warmly at you

“Is there coffee around?” you asked hopefully as the blonde started laughing signalling to one of the staff to come over. She quickly spoke to the young man in spanish and he jogged off back into the building

“Cortado is on the way” the Capitan winked “you remember “thank you” in spanish?”

“Moohtschas grazia or something like that” you said after a second of thinking and you could see Alexia visibly flinch at your butchering her mother tongue

“You have to speak softer, Cariño... spanish is a soft language – not harsh... try again... muchas gracias” the blonde encouraged you to try again

“That's what I said... Moohtschas grazias” you said confused

“You are to hard on the “s”... it's “s” like … sunshine... not “z” like... what's this white and black horse?” she tried to remember

“Zebra” you helped her out

“Sí... Zebra... again... muchas...” Alexia spoke slowly empathizing the “s”

“muchas” you tried to copy her pronunciation

“gracias” the blonde said slowly again

“gracias” you followed

“Bíen... muchas gracias” Alexia smiled proudly at you “Now be good and stay here” she said as she pressed a light kiss to your forehead and left you standing there rooted in place.

The only people who were allowed to give forehead kisses were Lucy, Keira, Sarina and Georgia. Alexia wasn't allowed and you were very careful when it came to physical contact. Keira of course kept an eye on you through warm ups and saw the interaction with Alexia. As soon as the blonde spaniard leant down to press a small kiss to your forehead Keira already moved towards you

“It's okay Bitsy... it's how the spanish are, okay... she doesn't mean any harm” Keira spoke calmly since she knew what physical contact – at least not predicted one – did to you.

“It's just the way they are around here, okay... they're very touchy feely... no need to freak out Bitsy okay” the blonde englishwoman kept talking until you looked at her

“She... she kissed me” you stuttered out

“I saw... but she doesn't mean any harm – it's really how they are here” Keira reassured you

“I... didn't like it... she didn't say anything beforehand” you said and the blonde could see how you were fighting an internal battle

“She doesn't know... no one knows you don't like contact like that” the blonde stayed calm through your conversation

“Why did she do that?” you asked confused

“She wanted to show you how good you did” Keira once again reassured you

“Ice cream would have done the job” you mumbled which caused the blonde to burst out laughing

“I know... but I can see some coffee coming this way... I bet it has your name on it” Keira smiled as she stroke through your hair and turned around to leave you to re-join training.

“muchas gracias” you said as the young man who grinned widely as he answered “De Nada”

You sat down on the ground sipping on your coffee watching the training going on as they switched from passing drills to 5 a side. You remembered these drills like the back of your hand and you already knew who would pass to whom and who would assist to who to get the ball into the back of the net. The drills they were playing were so predictable that you groaned internally. Just happens to not be internally – you groaned so loudly that even Jona turned around looking at you as if he tried to figure out if you're hurt again. He signalled Lucy and spoke to her quietly as her eyes snapped towards you before she came jogging over

“What's wrong Bubs... Jona said you might have hurt yourself he said you groaned quite loudly” your sister asked worried

“M not hurt... but this is so boring and your playing is so predictable...” you rolled your eyes

“What do you mean?” Lucy asked confused

“Okay wait...” you waited until the whistle blew again “Ingrid will pass it to Ona, Mapí tries to intercept but her footing is wrong so she won't get there in time. Ona will pass it as a high ball to that brown haired one who will TRY to get it down the middle with as a half-volley but Alexia stands to close so brown hair only gets the ball to bounce of Alexias hip... she will pass the ball to the right to flawless and flawless will cross it back into the middle to the blonde norwegian... who will make it look like she's going in for a header but she'll let the ball cross to the Jamaican spaniard who's already waiting at the back post... oh yeah... and Kei was open in the middle the whole time” you said and it happened exactly like you said just that you said it about 10 seconds before it all happened

“What the...” your sister listened to you as you predicted the whole tactic move before it even got played out now looking at you shocked

“Told you.. predictable” you shrugged your shoulders as Lucy waved Jona over to her speaking to him in spanish as now HIS eyes snapped towards you.

“Mind if we try something Bubs?” Lucy asked you smiling slightly

“I'm NOT trying your protein shakes again” you exclaimed

“No... I just want to show Jona something” she laughed as she nodded to her trainer.

Jona yelled something in spanish and the teams mixed up before he looked at you expectantly

“Tell me what's going to happen now, Bubs... I'll translate for him” Lucy encouraged you as you scanned the field and who the players were positioned

After a few minutes you looked at your sister “Team Yellow is going to score first... they have a technical midfield and even if Team Red has the better defence, they will concentrate on the forwards instead of the midfield and either Kei or tweedledee will score – team reds defence will probably only watch tweedledumb and Jamaican spaniard and forget about the technical finesse these two midfielders have... Alexia will realize it first but it will be to late” you shrugged your sister as she spoke lowly to her trainer who then turned around to blow the whistle.

Again you watched bored as the game rolled out just as you said – it was Keira who had the finishing touch on the ball to hit the back of the net. Jona turned around to you looking like he saw a ghost

“How did you know this?” Lucy asked you after Jona talked to her for a minute

“Predictable” you felt like a broken record “You guys focus too much on the forwards... you have an amazing midfield but you only go for the forwards... it’s a wonder you’re opponents haven’t figured it out already”

Lucy again translated what you said to her trainer who couldn't stop to look at you with a shocked face

“He wants you” your sister grinned

“Yeah no... I don't dingdongs... sorry” you waved off before yelling over to the field “Keira... rotate your hip more when you go for that high ball... and lock your ankle... you look like a fucking penguin trying to walk on ice”

“He wants you in his training staff you horny bitch” Lucy bit out

“Yeah... he can get in line” you mumbled watching Keira closely as she tried to follow through with what you just said

“What was that?” your sister asked confused

“KEIRA for god sakes... LOCK THIS BLOODY ANKLE... you locked it around my sisters waist enough times that I know you're able to do so!!!” you yelled again not happy with the outcome of your “pointers”

“Dear heavens” Lucy groaned as half the team looked at her while the other half looks at Keira “No more caffeine for you”

“It's not the caffeine that's the problem here...” you mumbled watching Keira step up to the ball again

“Then what is?” Lucy asked annoyed

“You REALLY want the answer to this question?” you raised an eyebrow at her

“On second thought...” your sister interrupted quickly

“Yep.. thought so...” you grinned fake “BETTER KEI!! Good job” you yelled out as the ball was nearly perfect

“Thanks Bitsy” the blonde yelled back smiling

“Always” you shouted before sitting down again

“What did you mean when you said Jona can get in line?” Lucy asked bringing the former topic back up

“You really think he's the first trainer that offered me a job??” you looked at her in disbelieve

“I... can't follow you” your sister said getting more and more confused

“The first one who offered was Sarina after the Euros... you think it was an accident to bring Tooney and Less in just after halftime? Second one was Alex Straus, third one was Emma, fourth one was Jonas, fifth was Gareth and on place no. 6 now the spanish guy... so yeah... he can get in line” you said seriously as you looked your sister straight in the eye

“I had no idea” Lucy said slowly compensating the information

“Yeah... it's not like I make a big deal out of it” you shrugged but Lucy knew you wanted to say something else

“You can always talk to me, Bubs” she said knowing you would need to hear it again and again and again

“Yeah... I know” you sighed

“Good... I'm going back to training okay... we have about 30 minutes left then we can go for ice cream...” she smiled softly at you before turning around leaving

“Hey Luce?” you shouted after her

“Yeah?”

“Can I have your phone please... mines dead again and I'm bored... you have games on your phone right?” you asked pouting a little for good measure

“Sure... pin is your birthday” your sister went over to her bag quickly and tossed you her phone

“Love you” you shouted after her.

Just as you wanted to start playing candy crush it started to ring. Caller was “Lionesses”. So you figured you could answer the phone.

“Lucy Bronzes phone... you're speaking with the better looking and younger version” you answered the call

There was a beat of silence before the other person started to speak

“Y/n??” you heard a confuses voice

“Hi Mama Rina” you said happily noticing Sarinas voice immediately

“I thought I called Lucy” the Dutch was majorly confused

“You did... I'm currently at the Camp Nope watching her train and I got bored so I got her phone to play candy crush” you explained as the smile never left your face.

“Oooooh okay... think she can make it to Camp next week?” Sarina asked and you could her smile through the phone

“Wait... I'll ask her...” you said before covering the phone with your hand “LUUUCCYYYY!!!! SARINA WANTS TO KNOW IF YOU ARE FREE NEXT WEEK FOR CAMP!!!” you yelled of the top of your lungs

“WHAT?” your sister asked confused

“NATIONALCAMP NEXT WEEK!! YES? NO?” you yelled again

“YES OF COURSE!!!” Lucy yelled already on her way over again

“She said yes... Keira is here too” you got back to the call

“Would you mind, Liefje?” Sarina asked you already pulling the phone away from her ear knowing you're going to start yelling in a second

“KEIRA??? NATIONALCAMP – YES OR NO?!” you yelled to the blonde englishwoman

“YES” Keira just yelled back not bothering asking why you asked her

“Kei said yes too...” you repeated the answer to the womans national coach

“Thank you, snoepje... I'll see you all in a week then” the Dutch smiled and ended the call

“Why are you on the phone with Sarina?” your sister asked

“She called...” you shrugged your shoulders “Flights will be send per email as usual”

“She called... okay...” Lucy said dumb folded and left again

Just as training was about to end and you roamed the side line a little bit – always under the watchful eye of Alexia, Lucy and Keira – Mapí tried to do a midfield shot on goal. Of course she booted the ball without any precision and the ball ended up in your direction

“Y/N!! WATCH OUT!” Keira yelled as she saw the ball rocketing towards you.

You lifted your head just in time to recognise the ball but you didn't have time to THINK what you would do. Your body reacted out of reflex and muscle memory. You stopped the ball perfectly with your chest before you volleyed it down the field with your right food and your precision was so on point that the ball came in perfect for Keira who stopped the ball with her foot mid air to turn with it and just tipped it into the open goal. Everyone on the pitch looked at you shocked and even you were shocked about what happened. Since you got your diagnosis with your third ACL you swore to yourself to never touch a ball again – and yet here you were assisting a “goal” for Keira and it was all Mapís fault. No one dared to move as they kept staring at you – and suddenly it clicked in your head. You looked at Lucy. You looked at Keira.

“Bubs no... it's okay... you're okay” Lucy tried to approach you slowly as she spoke softly seeing in your eyes exactly what your next move would be.

Oh how right she was – the second it really sunk in what just happened you bolted. You jumped over the barrier running as fast as you could. OF COURSE you forgot about the dino-harness. You just entered the tunnel as you got hauled backwards with such a force that you lost your footing and crashed into the ground. You just laid there as you tried to breath but your breathing became more hectic and rapid. Your sisters face appeared next to you only seconds later pulling you upon into a sitting position as she shuffled in behind you pressing your body back into hers as you tried to fight her grip

“It's okay Bubs... nothing happened... you're okay..” Lucy reassured you over and over again as you keep struggling in her arms trying to get free

“You need to breath for me Bubs... come one... deep breaths” your sister spoke softly ignoring the fact that you already hit her twice in the rips as she sat with you on the ground in the tunnel.

Suddenly Lucy heard fast approaching footsteps and the next second a panic stroked Mapí dropped to her knees in front of the two of you.

“Neña... Neña I'm so sorry... I didn't mean too... please” the spaniard begged you as she took your face in her hands seeing you so majorly distressed brought her to the verge of tears

You jerked back from her touch successfully head butting Lucy in the face who groaned painfully and felt hot liquid shooting out of her nose right into you hair as you kept your face away from Mapí. Your sister tightened the grip around you body basically switching to koala hug you from behind as tight as possible as you kept throwing your weight around

“Maps please... I know you're sorry and I know it wasn't on purpose but I need you to leave us alone right now” Lucy said through gritted teeth not because she was angry she just felt her strength leaving her arms and she knew the second she would let go you'd be gone and probably gone for days.

“I just want her to know how sorry I am... I really didn't mean to... Keira said I opened the box of Pandora” the tattooed spaniard said and Lucy heard the desperation in her voice

“I know Maps... I know it wasn’t intentional... and I promise you everything will be okay again – it's not the first time I'm going through this with her and she will calm down eventually... we just need space” your sister answered – even tho her voice got quite nasally – calmly to not set the spaniard off even more.

She could see how Mapí beat herself up but she was oh so thankful when she heard another pair of footsteps approaching and seconds later Mapí got hurled to her feet and dragged away by her girlfriend. As soon as the spaniard was gone from your vision you calmed down significantly reducing to a whimpering mess in your sisters arms

“I know Bubs... it's still too much for you and I know you need to work through it in your own time...” Lucy spoke quietly into your hair as she started to rock the both of you back and forth.

Lucy loosened her grip around you slightly to see your reaction but not too much if you'd try to bolt. Thankfully you exhausted yourself to the point where you just sack against her trying to find as much comfort in her touch as possible. You stayed like this for another 10 minutes with your sister mumbling sweet nothings into your hair before Lucy heard a low whistle coming from the tunnel entrance. As she looked up she saw Keira poking her head around the corner an eyebrow raised in question. The blonde knew from past experiences that you would get send right into another panic attack if there was anyone else except for Lucy around you. Lucy looked down on your hunched form back up at Kei and nodded. Keira approached the two of you carefully always ready to stop or even retreat if you showed any sign of discomfort

“That was a bad one” the blonde whispered as she slid down next to the two of you.

“I'm so thankful for that stupid leash... we wouldn't have found her for at least days Kei... if not weeks” Lucy whispered back as she adjusted your hold on you pulling you closer to her chest

“I know... but Mapí didn't mean too...” Keira said as she kept her voice low

“I know... I'm not blaming her or anyone... it was a stupid coincidence” your sister answered her eyes never leaving you

“She just broke down in the locker room... she's beating herself up really bad for that” the blonde whispered

“Ingrid with her?” Lucy asked alarmed not wanting Mapí to fall down into a mental hole as well – one mental breakdown was enough for one day.

“Course... Alexia as well... but she needs to hear it from y/n... it's funny isn't it? They know her for a few days but I bet my yearly salary that every single woman in that room would jump in front of a truck for her” Keira said and a low chuckle left her throat

“It's the Bronze charm... you fell for it too... twice actually” your sister smiled slightly

“You wish... you figured out already that G is a cover... you think I was after you?” the blonde teased back

“Keira Fae...” Lucy faked gasped shocked “... are you implying you were after my Sister the whole time?”

Keira just grinned enjoying the playful banter that just shows what good of a relationship Lucy and her were still having. A purely friendly relationship but still up for banter.

As you registered more of your surroundings you noticed that at one point Keira must have entered the scene and you blindly patted your hand towards her hoping she'd understood. And of course she did – she took your hand into hers without and comment making sure to keep a good hold of it.

“It's okay Bitsy... we're here” the blonde whispered calmly

You just sunk deeper into your sisters arms pressing your face into the crook of her neck feeling utterly exhausted

“You should get your nose checked out” Keira said referring to the dried blood on Lucys face

“Later... not important right now” your sister mumbled squeezing you tighter to her chest

“M sorry Luce” you mumbled against her neck

“S okay Bubs... you just got scared” Lucy mumbled back pressing a kiss to your forehead

“M sorry to Mapí too... probly scared her” you half-slurred as your body felt heavy your mind exhausted

“Don't worry about it... you can talk to her tomorrow on the phone, okay?” your sister reassured you softly

“Want to pologize n person” you said as your closed again

“Okay... but tomorrow... you okay moving to the locker room?” Lucy asked carefully

“Don't want to see anyone” you shook your head

“I'll clear it out” Keira said as she stood up “Give me five minutes”

After five minutes Keira came back around the corner nodding. Lucy tried to stand up but with you in her lap and sitting on the hard ground for nearly an hour she wasn't able too. Your hand clutched her shirt tightly fearing she would disappear once you'd let go

“Come here Bitsy... the old woman needs help to stand up” Keira said her voice teasing as she pulled you off your sister into her arms.

You were basically dead weight at this point only be held up by the blondes strength. As soon as Lucy stood up (with a loud groan) she lifted you bridal style and started to walk towards the locker room where Alexia waited outside the door. The blonde spaniards eyes grew wide in shock as she saw Lucys face but recovered quickly as she just opened the door to the mostly empty locker room in silence letting your sister carry you inside before closing the door behind you. Inside Ona waited with a water bottle offering it to you as Lucy placed you in a corner on the bench letting you lean against the cool wall.

“I'm just gonna jump the shower quickly Bubs, okay... is it okay if Ona has an eye on you or do you want her to leave” Lucy spoke softly knowing from past experience that you couldn't deal with loud noises in that state

“S okay...” you mumbled taking a small sip of the water

“Okay” your sister sighed relieved “I'll be back in a flash okay Bubs”

You just nodded sipping slowly on your water while Ona retreated to the other side of the room not wanting to invade your space or scare you. You were pretty impressed she knew what you needed – then again Keira probably gave her a run down. The all to familiar feeling of loneliness spread in your chest again and you just grunted hoping Ona would understand your silent request. She wasn't Keira so you had to make yourself known a second time – this time with a whine. Ona noticed you were slightly in distress but didn't knew how to react. Keira told her to be there but not too close. But after you whined out she kicked all plans out the window approaching you carefully sitting down two cubical away from you

“You need anything, Bebita?” the blonde freckled spaniard asked quietly

“Hug” you whined out

“Ven aquí entonces” Ona mumbled out and to both of your surprise you basically threw yourself into her arms.

That's how Lucy found you 10 Minutes later – you fast asleep in Onas arms who looked like she was hardly breathing not wanting to scare you.

“Welcome to the family” Lucy smiled as she passed you seeing how content you apparently felt in her girlfriends arms

“I didn't to anything I swear... she asked for a hug then threw herself at me and seconds later she was out like a light” the spaniard whispered her voice slightly panicked not wanting to set you off.

“Don't worry... she won't wake up...” Lucy waved off speaking normal volume “I know you didn't started it... but you have no idea what this means... you are basically now her sister too... she accepts no one other than Keira or me to touch her in that state... and here we are with her fast asleep in your arms... you made it Babe”

“Is this her way of telling me she's okay with me dating you?” Ona smiled

“It's more than that... she's telling you that she trusts you” your sister said as she put a new shirt on “You know if a physio is still around? Need my nose checked out – don't think it's broken but better save than sorry”

“Marc should still be around...” the spaniard answered “What's with her”

“Hope you're comfortable... I'll be back quickly” Lucy grinned widely before slipping out of the door before her girlfriend could protest

Outside she was met with Keira and Alexia both leaning against the opposite wall

“Wow... extra security detail... she's asleep – no need for bodyguards” your sister joked as she laid eyes on her two teammates

“How is she?” Keira asked cutting straight to the point

“Asleep... Ona seems to meet her standards when it comes to sleepability” Lucy smiled

“Good... keep me updated... and if you need anything” the blonde started already grabbing her things knowing there's nothing for her to do anymore

“I'll text you... thanks Kei... it really meant a lot... also means... thank you” your sister said honestly

“Always Luce... always... whatever you need... or whatever she needs” Keira smiled back warmly

“Kay... see you tomorrow Kei” Lucy hugged her ex girlfriend and pressed a soft kiss to her temple

“And what can I do for you Capi?” your sister asked expectantly after she turned around

“Let's take a walk?” the blonde spaniard asked

“I need to see Marc anyway...” Lucy shrugged her shoulders

“What happened?” Alexia asked straight away

“Panic attack” your sister answered as the two women walked down the hallway

“But why... nothing happened” the blonde asked confused

“For us it was nothing... for her it opened up old deep wounds” Lucy answered “I'm about 95% sure it was the first time she touched a ball in over three years. You see... you just went through an ACL tear and rehab yourself... you know what it takes and how it feels... now imagine being 13 and went through it twice already and you AGAIN tore your ACL... I still can remember the look she had on her face when I told her what the diagnosis was... she was just stoic... for weeks she didn't talk just basics... she hardly ate – just what Keira and I basically forced down her throat and there were a lot of panic attacks and nightmares... at some point she got better again – but she never worked it out... and I'm still waiting for the day when she finally breaks... that earlier was just a panic attack about touching a ball again”

Alexia listened carefully before looking at Lucy with a sorrow face

“No...” your sister immediately said sternly “We don't pity her of feel sorry for her... we're proud of her...”

“She didn't deserve that... that ball was PERFECT Lucia...” the blonde spaniard said and her voice was full of hurt

“I know... you haven't seen her play... how she ran circles around Jill Scott or Ellen White out dribbling them with such ease.. how she kicked a Gatorade bottle off the crossbar – from the other box just for fun... how she spend HOURS on the side line when I had training just playing keep ups... believe me Alexia when I say... I KNOW” Lucy answered and for a second Alexia saw just how hurt Lucy was for you “But she fought... three times she fought back... doc said she'd probably will have a limp all live – do you see her limping? No... because she fought... so no, we don't pity her... we're so SO proud of her”

“She is remarkable, just like her biggest Idol....” Alexia smiled but it had a sad nuance

“I wish I was half as Tough as she is” your sister smiled back understanding her Capitan immediately.

“Just keep being there for her Lucia... she doesn't need anything more from you...” the blonde squeezed Lucys shoulder lightly “And now get that nose checked... you looked... not very appealing”

“I looked like shit... but thanks Capi... see you tomorrow” your sister smiled as she went inside to the physio who told her a few proddings later that her nose was in fact fine

“Hey... I'm back” Lucy said lowly finding you and Ona in the same position she left you in

“Hola... you okay?” Ona asked smiling slightly as you drooled on her shirt your head laying on her shoulder

“Nothing broken... just bruised.... home?” your sister asked as she already packed up hers and Onas stuff

“You really want to move her? She's sleeping so peacefully” the blonde asked concerned looking down on you.

“You want to stay here all night?” Lucy asked back raising an eyebrow

“Let's get her home” Ona said after a second

“Yep thought so... You bags I her?” your sister asked smiling

“I bag and keys...” the blonde grinned “... you know since she's around I'm driving your car more than you do... I like it... she can stay” the blonde winked

“You wish...” Lucy huffed as she pulled you into her arms to carry you to the car “Let's go home Bubs” she whispered and smiled as you sighed out pressing your face against her neck.

[darlingsblackbook]

Weight of Expectations - 1

Simon Riley x Reader

Summary : You try and try your best, still it's not good enough for your liutenant. What happens when he pushes you too far?

Warnings : ANGST, simon being mean, bullying, yelling, feelings of lonliness, sad y/n.

AN : I was half asleep and dreaming while writing this, I was adding tags with my eyes closed, because wth are these tags, ghost car? Simon rileyn? 😭

The training grounds were a stark landscape of mud and sweat, a battleground that I had only just begun to navigate. The air was thick with tension, filled with the sounds of grunts, shouts, and the rhythmic thuds of feet pounding against the ground

Each day felt like a test, a relentless march toward proving their worth. I wanted this—wanted to be part of something bigger, to prove I had what it took. But every day felt like a war against Ghost.

“Push harder!” Simon’s voice cut through the air like a whip crack, sending a jolt of anxiety through me. The Ghost stood with arms crossed, his dark eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made my heart race. “You call that running? I’ve seen snails with more ambition!”

With every training session, it became painfully clear that Simon’s expectations were sky-high. He was relentless, punishing mistakes with unforgiving criticisms that left no room for error. His gaze, cold and piercing, seemed to search for weaknesses, and I felt myself being scrutinized under his harsh glare. The others seemed to flow around him, taking his orders without hesitation, while I couldn't help but feel like I was constantly struggling to keep up, drowning under the pressure.

“Y/N, stop daydreaming and move!” Simon barked, his tone sharp enough to cut through the humidity of the summer air. I flinched at the command, the sting of embarrassment burning deep as I forced my legs to work faster. The rest of the recruits moved like well-oiled machines, their movements synchronized, while I just felt like an outsider in my own skin, flailing and failing.

“Not good enough!” Simon snapped, stepping closer, his voice low and icy. “You think this is a game? If you can’t handle this, you don’t belong here.” His words hung heavy in the air, making me feel small and insignificant.

My heart sank. I looked around at the other recruits, hoping for a glimmer of support, but instead only found pity and judgment in their eyes. Whispers floated through the group as they watched Ghost tear me down, their words sharp as knives.

“How does Y/N expect to survive out there?” one recruit muttered. “If she can’t even handle a few laps, she's dead weight.”

The laughter that followed felt like a physical blow, and I fought against the tide of humiliation that threatened to pull me under. Every taunt cut deeper than Simon’s criticisms, reinforcing the idea that I were a burden, that my presence was not wanted. My frustration boiled over, and it was in these moments that I began to question my worth.

“Y/N, focus!” Simon shouted, his voice rising with irritation. “You think this is a time to be weak?” The anger in his tone sent a chill through me, and I felt my resolve waver. “If you can’t push through this, you’re never going to make it.”

“I’m trying,” I replied, my voice trembling as I wiped sweat from my brow. “I’m really trying.” But the words felt empty, echoing against the wall of Simon’s expectations.

“Trying isn’t enough. You either do or you don’t,” he shot back, his gaze unwavering, as if he was looking right through me. “Get back to it!” I swallowed hard, pushing through the pain, but it felt like running a race against the wind—every effort met with an unseen force pushing back.

With each failure, I felt a part of myself eroding under the weight of Simon’s criticism. It was exhausting to try and prove myself, especially when every moment seemed to invite more ridicule. The other recruits began to treat me with disdain, echoing Simon’s harsh sentiments.

During breaks, they would huddle together, sharing laughter and camaraderie, while I sat apart, feeling the sting of my isolation. Whispers and sideways glances followed me like shadows, a constant reminder of my perceived inadequacies.

“I heard she couldn’t even keep up with the warm-ups,” one recruit scoffed, and the others chuckled in agreement. The laughter rang in my ears like a cruel melody.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows over the training ground, with it came a sense of longing—a desire to be seen, to be validated. I wanted Simon to acknowledge my efforts, to see past the mistakes and recognize my potential.

But every time I looked at Simon for support, I was met with indifference. In those moments, I craved even a hint of recognition, a word of encouragement that might lift the veil of despair shrouding my spirit. Instead, he remained aloof, his focus always on the next exercise, the next task. I felt invisible, an afterthought in a world that seemed to favor the strong and confident.

The cycle of training continued, each session more grueling than the last. As Simon’s criticisms rained down, I could feel my spirit begin to fracture. I pushed through the pain, forcing my body to move even when every muscle screamed for relief. The fear of failure loomed large in my mind, overshadowing any glimmer of hope.

One afternoon, during an especially intense session, I found myself in a state of sheer exhaustion. The sweat was dripping from my brow, mingling with the dirt caked on my skin. I had just finished a series of demanding drills, and my legs felt like lead. Simon stood before me, arms crossed, his expression a mask of disapproval.

“Y/N, what was that?” he demanded, his voice a low growl. “You call that effort? You’re wasting my time!”

The humiliation washed over me like a tidal wave. “I—I’m trying!” I protested, my voice barely above a whisper. But the words felt feeble, lost against the weight of Simon’s disappointment.

“Trying isn’t enough!” he barked. “You think this is a game? You’re here to learn, to become a soldier. If you can’t handle a little discomfort, maybe you don’t belong here.”

The words struck me like a physical blow, reverberating through my chest. I struggled to hold back tears, the pain of inadequacy consuming me. “I’m not weak,” I said, but even to my own ears, the declaration sounded hollow.

Simon stepped closer, invading my personal space, and I felt the urge to shrink back. “Weakness isn’t tolerated here. You either toughen up, or you’re out. Simple as that.”

His words were harsh, but it was the indifference that cut the deepest. It was clear to me that Simon wouldn’t bend, wouldn’t show a shred of compassion. The weight of his expectations hung heavy, a noose tightening around my neck. As I looked into Simon’s eyes, searching for any hint of understanding, I found only a cold resolve. In that moment, I realized I was fighting not only against Simon’s expectations but also against a growing sense of hopelessness that threatened to consume me.

The sessions dragged on, and each day felt like an uphill battle. I was trapped in a cycle of despair and determination, fighting against the tide of my own limitations while yearning for a glimmer of hope. I could feel the eyes of the other recruits on me, judging and laughing as Simon’s harsh words echoed in my mind. “You’re not good enough.”

As the days turned into weeks, the atmosphere among the recruits shifted. My struggles became the source of gossip, the training ground's unofficial entertainment. Whispers followed me like shadows, a constant reminder of my failures. “Did you see Y/N today?” one recruit would say, and the laughter that followed was sharp and cutting. I felt the weight of their gaze, the disdain that seemed to pour from them, and it was suffocating.

The laughter was infectious, and soon it spread like wildfire, fueled by Simon’s unwavering stance against me. The others began to mirror his sentiments, adopting his sharp tone and biting remarks. “You’re slowing us down, Y/N!” one would shout, echoing Simon’s criticisms, and I could feel the sting of betrayal in those words. What had once felt like camaraderie had twisted into cruelty, and I felt my heart sink further.

In those dark moments, I sought solace in the only thing I could control: my training. I pushed myself harder, hoping that if I worked enough, Ghost would finally notice my efforts. If I bled, if I hurt, if I endured—perhaps he would see me for who I am, not just a disappointment. But every time I thought I was making any progress Ghost's criticism would bring me crashing back down.

“More effort, Y/N! You’re not even trying!” he would shout, the disdain in his voice as sharp as the crack of a whip. Each time, it felt like a dagger to my heart, leaving a deep wound that never seemed to heal. I gritted my teeth and pushed through, running lap after lap, each footfall resonating with my determination. But as the days dragged on, the thrill of ambition began to fade, replaced by a gnawing sense of despair.

Despite my efforts, the other recruits continued to treat me with a mix of scorn and derision. They would mutter comments when I struggled during drills, their laughter ringing hollow. “Maybe Y/N should just give up,” one would quip, and the others would snicker in agreement. It became a routine, a cruel game that I found myself trapped in, and with each passing day, my confidence eroded further.

One afternoon, during a particularly grueling training session, I felt the familiar tightening in my chest, a prelude to the storm of emotions that always threatened to drown me. I braced myself for the inevitable onslaught.

“Y/N! You’re not even close to meeting the standard! I could throw a rock and it would outperform you!” His words were met with a chorus of laughter from the other recruits, and my face flushed with humiliation. The heat of my embarrassment was nearly unbearable, and for a moment, I felt completely exposed, as if the entire world was watching me fail.

“I’m trying!” I, for once, shouted back. The words bursting forth in a moment of desperation. “I’m doing my best!”

“Your best isn’t good enough! It’s time to toughen up!” Simon shot back, his gaze unyielding. “This isn’t a charity; this is a military training ground. If you can’t handle the pressure, you should be looking for a way out.”

The laughter that followed felt like salt in an open wound, and again my heart sank further. I turned away, fighting back tears of frustration. Every word Simon spoke echoed in my mind, reinforcing the idea that I was a failure, a disappointment. The cruel laughter of my fellow recruits followed me like a shadow, a constant reminder that I was alone in a sea of expectation.

After the session ended, I lingered behind, desperate to escape the judgmental stares and the mocking whispers that clung to me. I longed for validation, for a moment of recognition from Ghost—anything that might help me feel like I belonged.

But instead of finding solace, I found only silence. Simon brushed past me, his attention already shifting to the next task. The lack of acknowledgment felt like a dagger, and I fought against the tears that threatened to spill over. The loneliness was crushing, and with every passing day, I felt myself slipping further away from the person I had hoped to become.

Weeks turned into months, my spirit grew more fragile, battered by the weight of Simon’s expectations and the harsh judgments of the other recruits. I began to wonder if I was truly cut out for this life, questioning my ambition and my resolve. Simon’s relentless push only deepened my doubts, and the idea of being a soldier began to feel like a distant dream, one that was slipping further from my grasp.

In a moment of quiet desperation, I decided to confront Simon after a training session. I needed to hear his thoughts, to understand if there was any hope of redemption. As the other recruits began to disperse, I took a deep breath and approached him, my heart pounding in my chest.

“luitenant,” I began, my voice shaking slightly. “Can we talk?”

He turned to face them, his expression unreadable. “Make it quick, Y/N. I don’t have all day.”

I swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words. “I know I’ve been struggling, and I’m trying my best to improve. But it feels like nothing I do is ever good enough for you. I just want to know if you think I can make it through this.”

Ghost's gaze hardened, and for a moment, I feared I had made a mistake. But instead of dismissing me outright, he seemed to actually consider my words. “You want to know if you can make it? The only person who can answer that is you. If you think you can, then you have to prove it. No one’s going to hand you anything in this life, especially not here.”

I felt a flicker of hope but quickly realized it was overshadowed by the reality of his words. I had grown accustomed to his harsh criticisms, but this felt like a challenge, an opportunity to reclaim my dignity. “I will prove it,” I replied, determination igniting within me. “I will show you that I can be strong.”

Simon nodded, a flicker of something—perhaps respect—crossing his face. “Then do it. Stop waiting for validation. Get out there and earn it.” With that, he turned away, leaving me standing there, feeling a strange mix of inspiration and despair.

As the days continued to unfold, I poured every ounce of energy into my training. I pushed myself to the brink, ignoring the pain that flared in my muscles. Each drill became a battle, and I fought with a ferocity I hadn’t known I possessed. Yet despite my efforts, the whispers and laughter of the other recruits echoed in my mind.

Even as I fought to prove myself, the negativity of my peers remained a heavy weight on my shoulders. Simon’s expectations loomed large, but it was the biting words of my fellow recruits that cut the deepest. Their taunts became a toxic backdrop to each training session.

“Why are you even trying, Y/N? You’ll never make it,” one would say, followed by a chorus of laughter that felt like daggers in my heart. Each jeer was a reminder of my isolation, a cruel reminder that I was fighting not only against Simon’s expectations but also against a tide of scorn that threatened to drown me.

I pressed on, fueled by a mixture of determination and desperation. I would not let the words of others define me, nor would I allow Simon’s disapproval to break my spirit. But the road ahead felt endless, littered with obstacles that seemed insurmountable.

In the depths of my struggles, I clung to the idea that perseverance would eventually yield results. If I could just push through the pain, the humiliation, the exhaustion—perhaps one day, I would emerge stronger. Perhaps one day, Simon would see me for who I truly am.

And so, I ran. I ran through the tears, through the laughter, through the doubts. Every step was a silent promise to myself—to rise above the negativity and become the soldier I had always dreamed of being.

As I pushed through the obstacles, I felt a flicker of determination ignite within me. I would not give up. Not now, not ever..

All Rights Reserved © 2024 DarlingsBlackBook

[megalony]

I Failed- Part 2

Here is the second part of my Eddie Diaz imagine, thank you all for the lovely feedback on the first part. I hope you will all like this next one.

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Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Part 1

Summary: After her miscarriage, (Y/n) and Eddie are trying to move forward again. But they encounter a few surprises and changes on the way.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A thunderstorm began to rage behind (Y/n)'s eyes as she slumped down into the chair opposite the doctor's desk.

She knew she looked far from her best. It was a struggle just to sit here and keep her eyes open, let alone sit straight and try to look engaged and bright when all she wanted to do was go home and crawl back into bed. She was tired. She wanted to be bright and uplifted and show the doctor that she was doing better, but that felt like too much effort.

She had been doing great for a while now. (Y/n) actually felt like she was getting back on track. But being around doctors brought down her moods and made her anxious.

At least this was only a routine appointment.

This wasn't a mental health check up like she'd gone to when she came out the hospital after the miscarriage. This wasn't a check up to see if her body was going back to normal after what she'd been through. No more assessments with nurses prodding her flattening tummy and asking indiscreet questions that made her want to cry.

Seeing her stomach deflate and watch her body go back to 'normal' with no baby to show for it had been hard enough. Without the nurses constantly prodding and checking and telling her she was fine, when she felt the exact opposite.

It wasn't fine to go through half a pregnancy and come out of it with no baby at the end.

It wasn't fine to spend the first two months after the miscarriage still believing she had done something wrong, that she had let Eddie down. Sometimes she woke up in the morning, pressed a hand to her stomach and felt like she was a failure at the one thing she wanted more than anything else in the world.

"So (Y/n), how are you?"

Her eyes drifted over to look at the doctor sat on the opposite side of the desk.

She didn't like that question, it was one she had been asked far too many times over the last six months. She didn't like people looking at her with sympathy in their eyes or panic in their voices. She didn't like hearing that question when it was the first thing the counsellor always asked her at their appointments. And (Y/n) was sick of hearing it by now.

"I'm doing good." She knew the tiredness on her face may contradict her words, but at least the look in her eyes was sincere. She wasn't lying.

(Y/n) didn't know where she would be or what would of happened if she didn't have Eddie by her side through this. If she had gone through the miscarriage with her ex, (Y/n) doubted she would have survived it. Everything had always been her fault even when it wasn't, and feeling sick was always 'an excuse' he said she used when she did things wrong.

Eddie never treated her like that. When she didn't feel like she could get out of bed, Eddie laid with her and wrapped her up in his arms. He held her until she felt like she could finally move. He didn't force her into recovery too fast or push her past her boundaries, he simply walked with her every step of the way.

He never blamed her. He didn't tell her she should 'snap out of it by now' or that she was getting hung up on the past.

He told her how much he loved her, how well he thought she was doing and made her feel like each day she managed to piece herself together was an achievement.

"That's good. So this is just a general check up, an overview to see how you're fairing. Just a general outlook, how are you eating and sleeping?"

She leaned back a bit further in her seat and tried to think. Sometimes the days went by so slowly that (Y/n) could keep track of every second of every day. But then other days blurred together in a whirlwind and she could barely tell one week from the next. Sometimes even the good days blurred by in a flash, but (Y/n) thought maybe that was a good thing. All the days were starting to get better so time was zooming by.

She wanted to be as far away from that miscarriage as possible and leave it in the past. She didn't want to forget, just distance herself from that event in her life.

"Sometimes I sleep a lot, but I'm sleeping fine, I don't wake up during the night. And I'm eating as usual, I don't eat breakfast, but that's normal."

(Y/n) had spent a little while in the hospital after the miscarriage, the doctor didn't want to discharge her without making sure that she wasn't at risk for self-harm and that she was in the right frame of mind to go home. She hadn't slept well during that first month. After that, (Y/n) seemed to sleep normal or sleep too much, but it wasn't really an issue.

Eating wasn't a problem either. Eddie had been swiftly relieved that he didn't have to worry about (Y/n) becoming ill by not eating enough or not feeling hungry or energetic.

"Good, so physical health everything is okay, no concerns?"

She shook her head. What kind of concerns could she have? (Y/n) hadn't exactly booked this appointment herself and it wasn't as if Eddie had booked it because he was worried about her. The doctor asked for this because they had to keep regular checks after the miscarriage to make sure (Y/n) was faring well both mentally and physically.

"How about your period, is that regular now?" It wasn't uncommon for periods to be scattered and irregular. It could take months for the pattern to get back to normal, (Y/n) had been advised about that.

She shook her head and looked down at her hands that were clasped together on her lap. "No, I barely get them."

It was hard to try and remember the last proper period she'd had. Obviously she hadn't had any when she was pregnant, and that meant five months without any. The miscarriage had been six months ago and since then, (Y/n) could only recollect two small periods that lasted about two days each, if that.

It was a relief not to have heavy periods or be bed-ridden with cramps or bad mood swings due to discomfort. But it was also unsettling to be apprehensive, waiting for something that wasn't happening. (Y/n) felt like it was a reminder. If she ever tried to ignore the fact that she'd miscarried, her body was happy to remind her by not giving her a period as if it was taunting her.

"Okay, and how are you feeling in yourself? Moods can affect periods."

"Better than before… a lot of headaches though, and I'm tired." The headaches were new and although the tiredness came and went, especially because of her moods, it was getting hard.

It didn't seem to matter how much sleep (Y/n) got, she was still starting to feel drained halfway through the day or she felt so tired that she didn't want to get out of bed.

"Let's take some bloods, you might be low on a few things."

Suddenly, (Y/n) wished Eddie hadn't been at work so he could of come along to this appointment. It skipped her mind that she might need to have bloods taken and she wasn't so good with needles.

She slipped off her jacket and laid her left arm on the desk, she knew the drill. Her head turned to the right and she ignored the rubber band around her arm, looking away towards the wall so she didn't have to think or look at the needle. It was a familiar discomfort to feel the needle in the crease of her elbow, and when (Y/n) opened her eyes, she was surprised to see that she wasn't going dizzy or blacking out.

Although the bloods did make her feel somewhat drained. Two little viles of blood felt like two full pints and (Y/n) moved her hands to run up and down her thighs to try and bring some feeling back in her hands and make herself feel better.

"All done. I'd like a urine sample as well if that's okay, just to double check there are no infections or kidney issues."

"Okay." That wasn't so bad. That was rather easy and (Y/n) could do the sample now so she didn't have to go home and come back again.

"Alright, if you do that sample for me, then I'll send them off. And as soon as the results come back, I'll give you a call." That was good; (Y/n) wanted to go home. She would rather be anywhere else other than a doctor's office right now.

"Thank you."

***

"Hi, is that (Y/n)? It's doctor Piper, I've got the results back from your blood and urine samples."

"Oh, right. Was it all okay?"

"I'd like you to come down to the office to discuss it, if that's okay."

(Y/n) closed her eyes and leaned her head to the right until her cheek was laid on Eddie's shoulder. She felt his hand rest on her thigh and his fingers gave her a light squeeze, making her lips curve into a small smile. She leaned into him a bit more and moved her arms to bind her hands around his arm that was draped over her chest to hold her thigh.

She could feel his lips pressing to the top of her head, meshing into her hair while his leg jittered up and down every now and then, nudging her knee each time.

The doctor's phone call had made her nervous. (Y/n) wasn't sure what to expect and she had asked Eddie if he would come to the appointment with her. Of course he didn't refuse.

She couldn't help but panic about what they wanted to talk to her about. What could the results say that couldn't be explained over the phone? Quite a few times, (Y/n) had talked over the phone about having low vitamins or needing a few tablets to be put on prescription.

Maybe she had an infection. Maybe the doctor had to talk to her about the antibiotics she would need if she did have an infection. Whatever it was, (Y/n) felt calmer if Eddie came along with her.

When her name was called, (Y/n) kept her hands deadlocked around Eddie's arm even when he stood up.

She stood up with him, binding his arm to her chest and pressing herself up into his side as he led the way down towards the doctor.

The doctor had a calming smile on her face which settled down the nerves igniting up in (Y/n)'s stomach. They headed into the familiar office and sat down in front of the desk and the moment they sat down, Eddie's hand found her thigh again.

He took to squeezing her thigh and rubbing his thumb across her skin to try and keep her calm. Hopefully, whatever this was about was nothing to worry about and Eddie didn't want (Y/n) worrying. The doctor hadn't asked to make an urgent appointment so it couldn't be anything dire or drastic.

"Afternoon (Y/n), thank you for coming in. Is this your husband?"

When (Y/n) nodded, the doctor smiled and leaned forward in her chair. She laid her arms down on the desk and looked over at the computer screen on her left so she could bring up (Y/n)'s file and the blood test results.

"As I said on the phone, I've had your results back. Now, I don't want you to worry or start to panic, but I had to ask you down to talk this through in person as we'll need to discuss and organise a few things."

That didn't sound great. That sounded more worrying than the doctor seemed to imply and (Y/n) felt Eddie bristle beside her as his brows furrowed in confusion. And he sat up straighter in his seat, moving his right hand to run up and down the arm rest to try and give himself something to focus on.

"Both the blood test and the urine samples have come up positive on the pregnancy tests."

She couldn't breathe.

All the air seemed to become sucked out of the room until (Y/n) was sat with her lungs deflating and shrivelling up in her chest. Her diaphragm pulled inwards until her muscles began to ache and her throat started to tense, rubbing her vocal cords together at the lack of air.

Little black and white spots danced in front of her eyes like stars and a horrible bell began to toll in her ears.

When Eddie's hand left her thigh, a shockwave rattled through (Y/n) and she suddenly felt like a tiny boat sailing away in the ocean with no anchor to stop her and nothing to guide her back to shore.

Her body leaned forwards out of instinct, but the moment Eddie's hand found her back and began to rub slow, soothing circles against her skin, she finally sucked in a deep breath that made her lungs ache. Her chest finally seemed to expand, but the spots continued to dance around her vision until she had no choice but to close her eyes.

She felt Eddie's other hand move to press against her lower chest, prompting her to take deep breaths while his lips pressed down against her shoulder.

Eddie was grateful the doctor didn't say anything. She didn't round the desk and try to coax (Y/n) into breathing exercises or try and move her or assess her when she was clearly going into a panic attack. Instead, she stayed silent behind her desk and let Eddie control the situation.

Both (Y/n)'s hands found their way to attach to Eddie's wrist that was against her chest and through blurring eyes, she managed to look over at him.

He looked perplexed.

He was torn between wanting to smile and celebrate and wanting to huddle down and let the tears fall. He wanted to be happy, but he didn't know how to do that without feeling like he was betraying himself and (Y/n) after what happened six months ago.

The first time they got this news, they had been in tears, holding one another and laughing excitedly that it had happened so quickly after they talked about starting a family. This was different. This didn't make either of them think about having a family; it made them think about the risk of doing this again and going through the same loss a second time around.

"Eddie…" (Y/n) wasn't quite sure what she was trying to ask him, but she tucked herself into him as quickly as she could.

She didn't care about the arm of the chair that dug uncomfortably into her hip as she leaned over until her upper body was resting on Eddie's lap. Her elbows dug down into his thighs and her face meshed into his chest while her hands clung to his arm that she pinned against her chest like she needed the limb to survive.

"It's okay, it's okay." He wasn't sure what else to say as he ran his hand up and down (Y/n)'s back and pressed his lips against the top of her head. He curled around her like a security blanket, holding her into his chest until he felt her start to breathe deeper into his chest and she stopped muttering and gasping his name.

(Y/n) kept hold of Eddie's arm as she meshed her cheek into his chest and tried to look over at the doctor.

She wanted to go home.

She didn't want to stay here any longer, she just wanted to go home and curl up into a ball and disappear. But if they left this appointment now, they would only have to make another one soon. And the doctor had said she wanted to talk about this, which told (Y/n) that this appointment wasn't quite over yet.

"I'd like to do an ultrasound, to see how far along you are. I think it would be wise to check now and then we can have a chat afterwards. If you drink these in the waiting room, and in about twenty minutes, I'll call you back for the scan. Okay?"

She found two bottles of water and placed them on the end of the desk. She didn't want (Y/n) to go home yet without talking through this or else she would be in shock. And it would be better to check how far along (Y/n) was so they could get a plan in place and make some more appointments. It was clear (Y/n) wasn't able to talk about this quite yet so a little while to calm down would do them both some good.

(Y/n) felt horrid walking on trembling legs as Eddie guided her down the hall towards the waiting room. She felt like she was moving on autopilot, shuffling towards the seats at the back of the open space, near the windows where they would be out of the way of the few other people sat waiting.

The moment she sat down, (Y/n) felt like melting into a puddle on the floor. Her arms coiled into her chest and her hands started to tremble as they knotted together on her lap.

Once Eddie set the water bottles down on the floor, he secured his left arm around her waist and gently reeled her back into his chest. Her head slumped onto his shoulder and Eddie pressed a soft, loving kiss to the top of her head.

"Amor?"

"I- I didn't know," She wasn't sure why she said that, it wasn't as if she had done anything wrong or as if having an inkling would have been a bad thing. But she didn't.

(Y/n) hadn't felt in tune with her body since the miscarriage and the thought of being pregnant again only six months after losing her baby made her shiver. She didn't want to lose another baby.

"I know. Here, try and drink this for me." Eddie leaned down and grabbed one of the water bottles and handed it over to her.

He leaned his cheek on top of her head while (Y/n) stayed leaning into his chest. There were no arm rests on the waiting room chairs so (Y/n) could lean close to Eddie until she was half lying on his lap, not that he minded at all. If anything, he tugged her closer and curled around her.

He was rather surprised that (Y/n) gulped down half the water in one go and he began gliding his hand up and down her waist, praying she wouldn't throw it all back up. That wouldn't do her any good and they couldn't have the scan unless her bladder was full.

(Y/n) finished the water in record time and reached down for the second one, but she began tapping it against her thigh for a few seconds rather than drinking it.

She felt Eddie hum into her hair, quietly checking if she was okay, and he felt his heart jumping up into his throat when he watched (Y/n). He watched her tilt her head down and move her hand to press her palm over her stomach like she didn't truly believe there might be a baby there.

"I have to keep this one safe."

Her words shattered something inside Eddie and he stayed unnaturally still and silent, letting her words sink in and burn through his heart like poison.

He didn't want her to think like that. He didn't want (Y/n) to think she had done something wrong last time, that she had somehow caused the miscarriage or that it had been her failing. She hadn't done anything wrong, and he prayed if she really was pregnant again, that the same fate wouldn't occur twice.

Silence befell them while (Y/n) downed the second bottle and burrowed into Eddie's chest until it felt like she was trying to submerge herself into his ribcage.

"(Y/n)." Doctor Piper stood in the hall and waved over towards them, beckoning the pair of them back over to her.

(Y/n) felt a bit more settled this time and alive on her feet when she got up. She cocooned both arms around her waist, feeling Eddie's hand on her lower back as they went down a different corridor towards the ultrasound rooms.

"If you'll take a seat for me and lift up your shirt." She pointed towards the bed in the middle of the room while she herself took a seat at the sonogram machine.

Turning to the right, (Y/n) looked up at Eddie and when she gingerly reached out for his hand and his expression softened. He entwined their hands and moved round to stand beside her as she laid on the bed and rolled up her shirt. She tugged down the hem of her leggings so her abdomen was on display; they had done this before, after all.

The uncomfortable feeling and the pressure was strangely familiar but (Y/n) tried to ignore the feeling as she looked at the screen. Part of her didn't want to see anything come up on the screen. She wanted it to stay blank, so there wasn't a second chance of heartbreak.

They hadn't talked about this.

Another baby so soon after the miscarriage hadn't been planned or prepared and (Y/n) didn't know if she would survive if anything happened to this baby- if she was truly pregnant.

But all she'd ever wanted was a family, and when she married Eddie, (Y/n) had thought about having his baby thousands of times. It was the only thing she wanted and that need intensified after she lost the baby. All she thought about was how she lost their baby and how they had been so close. (Y/n) wanted to have a baby in her arms, she wanted to be a proper wife and give Eddie children.

"Is- is that…" Eddie could feel his nerves going haywire as he leant his right arm over the back of the bed (Y/n) was laid on. He leaned over her, feeling her hand tighten in his other hand as he tried to get a better look at the screen and his eyes fell to the doctor who shared his apprehension.

"(Y/n), I know this is a shock, and I don't want to unsettle you any further, but-"

"What's wrong?" (Y/n)'s fingers clenched around Eddie's hand so tightly she cut off his circulation and made his arm jerk.

Oh God, what had she done? Had something gone wrong already? Had she lost a second baby, without even knowing she was pregnant in the first place?

Eddie's name tore past her lips as she leaned forward to try and squint at the screen to find out what he and the doctor were so concerned about. But she felt Eddie leaning to nudge her back down on the bed, not wanting her to get upset or panicked.

"You're expecting twins." The look on (Y/n)'s face must have shown that she didn't believe it because the doctor started to point at the screen. "Here we have baby A, and then here is baby B over here."

Two babies.

Two chances of losing another baby.

But what if this wasn't going to work out the same as last time? What if this was two chances at finally having a baby with Eddie, of making him a dad again and doing what she wanted to do. Be a proper wife and mother, have a baby this time instead of losing them. And this time she could have two babies. She could have two newborns to care for, as if her body was making up for the mistake that happened last time.

Surprise flooded Eddie's eyes when he looked down and found a small but nevertheless enchanting smile on (Y/n)'s lips. While her head was inclined and her eyes were focused on the screen.

"You seem to be around twelve weeks, babies are sharing one placenta which makes them identical. All looks good so far."

Once the sonogram was finally removed from her stomach, (Y/n) cleaned away the gel and pulled her shirt down while the doctor printed a few copies off for them.

She felt Eddie's hand on her back as she sat up straight and swung her legs over the side of the bed so she was sitting up properly, facing the doctor. All this news was swirling around in her head, making her extremely dizzy, but she knew it would all sink in soon. She hoped.

"Okay, I'll make a note on your file and put a referral through for antenatal care, you'll need a few extra appointments and scans from now on. And we can discuss getting a plan in motion for a planned, induced birth-"

"No- no." (Y/n) began to shake her head and before she really knew what she was doing, her hands moved to the edge of the bed and she pushed herself onto unsteady feet.

That was more than enough for today. She wasn't going to listen or discuss anymore of this, not now. It was far too early to be talking about any of that and (Y/n) wasn't going to listen when all it would do would serve to panic her. She wanted to go home. She wanted Eddie to take her home and wrap her up in his embrace and calm her down before she became too overwhelmed by it all.

"Baby-"

"No, I'm not- I'm not jinxing this- I might not get that far. I wanna go home."

She wasn't making plans and talking about the future when they were so early on. She wasn't taking that risk of jinxing this chance. If they talked about giving birth and sorting plans, then (Y/n) would probably lose them. She didn't want to tempt fate into repeating history.

(Y/n) was already stumbling towards the door before Eddie hurried to try and catch her up. He barely heard the doctor muttering that she would make the necessary referrals. Eddie knew they would call in a few days when they wanted to make the next appointment and it would be alright then. (Y/n) would have had the time for the news to sink in by then.

He hurried into the hall to catch up with (Y/n) and when he reached her, his arms cocooned around her waist to prevent her from running away in a panic. He reeled her into his chest and tucked his face into the crook of her neck while he leaned against the wall, keeping her here in the secluded corridor with him so they could calm down and talk without people watching.

"I- I can't…" (Y/n) wasn't sure what she was trying to say, but she closed her eyes and tilted her head down when her thoughts started to cloud her head.

She reached a trembling hand down to grasp Eddie's wrist and shakily moved his arm until his palm was pressing down on her abdomen. She felt the sharp breath he took and the way he pierced his teeth into her neck at the thought of having another baby- another two babies.

"S'okay, one day at a time, hm?"

***

Apprehension flooded Eddie's stomach and he paused in his tracks down the hall when he realised one of the bedroom doors was ajar. Specifically, the spare room.

He could feel his heart rocketing in his chest and causing his stomach to tighten like he was about to be sick.

He changed course and aimed for the spare room rather than their shared bedroom and hovered on the threshold, peering silently into the room. The spare room was more of a study. There were books lined on the shelves, some of Chris's old games tucked away in the cabinet, a computer Eddie and (Y/n) sometimes used for work and emails and such.

It was a nicnack room that collected spare things they didn't always use. And as of last year, it had collected items they had been getting ready for the baby. They had been just a few short weeks away from turning the study into a nursery.

Part of Eddie had been relieved they didn't get that far. He didn't know what he would of done if that room had been fully or even partially decorated when (Y/n) had the miscarriage. He would of probably locked the door and forbid anyone from going in there.

The cot was still flat-packed in the corner of the room in its box. A bag of clothes, blankets and a few odd bits they had bought was on top of the cabinet behind the door. Some odd teddies and bottles and items they had bought in advance were bagged in here somewhere.

Eddie barely came into the study unless he was tossing something in here to be forgotten about or searching for a particular game Chris wanted to play. And he knew (Y/n) didn't come in here often. Too many reminders.

His heartstrings yanked and stretched uncomfortably in his chest when he peered into the room and looked over at his wife.

With a deep breath, Eddie gently nudged the door open and headed into the room.

(Y/n) was knelt down on the carpet in the middle of the room, clearly lost in thought with whatever was laid out in front of her on the floor.

"What're you up to?" Eddie's voice was gentle and quiet and his head tilted to one side as he padded across and crouched down behind her. His hands found her hips and he settled on his knees, curving his chest around her back while his arms wove from her hips to lock around her middle.

His chin perched on her shoulder and his arms squeezed lovingly into her sides as he peered over to see what she was doing.

There was a bag in front of her. The bag that contained the clothes and onesies and blankets they had bought months ago for their first baby. She had a soft, knitted cream blanket in her hands with a teddybear stitched into the bottom corner. Her fingers were methodically rubbing over the material, creasing it between her hands like she was stuck in some kind of trance.

"Just looking through some stuff."

(Y/n)'s voice was oddly quiet and she couldn't bring herself to look away from the blanket in her hands.

She remembered Eddie's mum telling her a while ago that she still had some of Chris's things from when he was a baby. Shannon had left it at Eddie's parents house and they had kept most of the stuff as keepsakes. His mum, Helena, was going to bring some of the things down when they had planned to visit before the baby was born.

Of course, after the miscarriage, they had visited, but bringing Chris's baby things had been scrapped completely. They might have a reason to bring them down if they came to visit soon.

"And what're you thinking?"

When he didn't receive an answer, Eddie carefully unravelled one arm from around (Y/n)'s waist so he could press his fingertips beneath her chin. He tilted her head back and leaned closer until his nose nudged hers and his lips were hovering over hers.

(Y/n) was the one who inched closer and connected their lips, and she loved the way Eddie's fingers tickled her neck as he dragged his hand around to cradle the side of her neck.

"We'll need another cot." (Y/n) wasn't sure if she was trying to make a joke or if she was just listing off one of the many things circulating through her head at the moment.

She wasn't sure how long she had been in here, or why she came into the spare room in the first place. But once she caught sight of the bag, she couldn't help herself. She had to take a peek and look through the things she had forgotten about. (Y/n) forgot they had bought a few blankets, she thought it had only been some clothing and essentials like bottles and the cot. Everything had been bought in vain, of course. They got ahead of themselves.

They wouldn't be doing that again. (Y/n) wouldn't get anything or let her excitement get the better of her until she got these twins past a safe mark. Where she would be out of the time frame for a miscarriage, then she would let herself try and think ahead.

She felt the way Eddie's lips curved into a grin and his hand shifted back up to cup the side of her face where he could trace his fingertips along her cheek.

"I think we need to book that antenatal appointment, before we think about all the stuff we're gonna need. Don't you?"

Eddie was glad and somewhat relieved to see (Y/n) wasn't submerged in panic, expecting this to go wrong. He wanted them both to spend the next few months trying to enjoy this process and work through it, not live in haste and anxiety expecting something to go wrong.

"You'll come with me?" It was a request more than a statement because (Y/n) didn't think she could do it alone. She didn't want to be overwhelmed with everything the midwife was going to speel off to her and go through. At least having Eddie there would calm her down and he might be in more of a position to take in all the information better than (Y/n).

"You know I will." He stole another kiss from her lips before (Y/n) leaned her cheek on his shoulder and twisted around in his arms a little.

She kept her arms pinned into her waist and her hands lost in the blanket on her lap, but she tried to tuck herself more into Eddie's chest. She loved the way his lips merged with her temple and he began to smooth one hand up and down her stomach. Testing the waters, seeing if the touch was okay or not, and he continued when (Y/n) didn't object.

"There's things we can do, you know." He murmured against the top of her head, almost as if he was talking to himself.

"Hm?"

"To make sure things go differently this time. You get more appointments with twins, and exams. They'll keep checking the baby's positions, and we can get a safe date."

Eddie knew that whether they were having twins this time or not, (Y/n) would of been entitled to extra check-ups because she'd miscarried before. It would put (Y/n)'s mind at ease as well as make sure the midwives didn't miss anything and were reassured it wouldn't happen again.

At least with twins, (Y/n) got those extra check ups anyway and they would keep a closer eye on her. And she wouldn't feel like it was because she had miscarried before or that she was at risk of 'failing again'.

"Safe date?" (Y/n) pressed a kiss to the side of Eddie's neck, feeling the way he swallowed and craned his head back like he was gathering his thoughts.

"You don't usually reach full-term with twins or triplets. The doctor will pick us a date, a few weeks before your actual due date, and induce labour. It reduces the risks for you all."

The thought of a planned labour was very calming to Eddie. It meant no waiting around, walking on egg shells for labour to happen. No panicking that something would go wrong or that (Y/n) would go into labour and they might struggle to get her to the hospital on time.

Reaching full term with a multiple pregnancy was highly unlikely and it was risky. It was safer to have the baby up to five or six weeks before the due date.

They could go to the hospital on their scheduled day, have labour actively induced and then have their babies on a schedule. It meant Eddie would certainly be by (Y/n)'s side from the very beginning, he could put in his leave at work. There would be no risk of him being stuck on shift while (Y/n) was in labour and she wouldn't have to panic.

"As long as I reach that date. I'll do anything they say." (Y/n) tilted her head down, tucking her cheek into Eddie's chest as she snuggled into him like she was about to go to sleep.

She would do whatever the doctor and midwife told her to. She would have a planned birth. She would go on bed rest if they told her, she would take vitamins and be careful. (Y/n) would do anything if it meant that she would actually reach their planned date and have their babies safely.

She didn't want to lose anymore babies.

She felt Eddie's arm tighten around her waist while his other hand cupped her neck, cradling her into his chest while his lips merged with the top of her head. He began to sway them from side to side, humming into her hair every now and then.

"It'll be different this time, amor. I just know it."

[androdragynous]

I know i complained about the stardew valley penny and George cutscene at length but the it really is fucking. bizarre the lengths people will go to defend it because "the game lets you pick to side with him" (please do literally any reading about wheelchair use and realize why it's a problem that the game rewards you for moving someone without their consent.) or variants of that sentiment but then it's like. the rest of the cutscene is also So Weird

Like. Penny moves an old man in a wheelchair without asking him. He gets upset, she asks if you saw what happened The game prompts you to select from;

"I was. You did a kind thing there, Penny." (+50 friendship with Penny)

"I was. You should've asked instead of assuming George wanted help." (-50 friendship with Penny)

"I'm just taking a walk, minding my own business." (No effect on friendship.)

And these are the REVISED options. Before 1.4, the second option wasn't"you should have asked", it was "You should've left him alone. Now he's grumpy."

So already it's kind of shit. The person she's upset - who's entire existence in the game is experiencing inaccessibility, let's be real - because he was shoved without permission just for being in a wheelchair doesn't have his friendship level affected at all.

Regardless of which answer you pick, George apologizes (Penny does not apologize in every choice! But the guy she shoved does!) and says she was kind.

Once he's gone, she talks about how hard it must be to be old. It's worth noting, for what it's worth, that George has been using a wheelchair since a mining accident caused his immobility; it's not a result of age, and you learn about this whole he struggles with a bookshelf in his own home, where presumably he has been living with a wheelchair for at least two decades (given how he talks about his grandson), which is a whole different can of worms because why is this never addressed in a fictional community with multiple craftspeople who frequently do projects for each other?

Anyways. So Penny's like, damn, sucks that he's old. And the options the game gives you - all neutral in terms of friendship points - are:

"I'd rather not think about it."

"It's just a different part of life."

"That's why we should respect our elders."

"I'd rather die young..."

Like are you kidding me? You have a cutscene that's about being disabled - it's not about aging, because his disability was not caused by aging, it is explicitly and directly about the fact that he is in a wheelchair. And the game assumes your opinions will be "Not my problem,", "That's an old people thing,", and "I'D RATHER BE DEAD"? And this is something people just... don't remark on? Even in conversations ABOUT this cutscene? Like, George's mentions of being disabled are already Constantly Miserable -able-bodied writer standard quality - but the game is just like. Yeah you can say you'd rather be dead rather than express any positive sentiment about this guy surviving a traumatic mining accident. You can't say it's great that he's able to still be a part of the community in his chair, or renovate his house to make it accessible the way you can build ENTIRE HOMES for other characters. The community center you rebuild in the Good Ending for the community is only accessible by stairs. The path out of his home is dirt. It's the little things, y'know, like... obviously he wasn't thought about as his own character. The game's writing sees him as a source of conflict for others, and down to the very tiles of the terrain, he's irrelevant.

AND THEN THE TOWN DOCTOR DOES A HIPAA VIOLATION AND GETS SAD IF YOU SAY GEORGE SHOULD HAVE AGENCY OVER HIS OWN BODY. WHAT ARE WE FUCKING DOING HERE

[internetwerewolf]

Hilarious that AI wouldn’t even be a problem if it weren’t for our generous friend capitalism. The use of ai wouldn’t matter if people weren’t constantly struggling to survive. It truly WOULD just be another tool. But the wonderful thing is that isn't the world we live in right now. Everything exists in relation to that around it. AI can’t exist outside the context of capitalism in the same way cars can’t exist outside of it. Generative ai is such an incredible reflection of how capitalism affects art. It’s so incredibly obvious to see this in the ways that various creative industries are being impacted by this like “implementation” of ai, and the looming dread that creatives feel without having some kind of protection against ending up without a reliable source of income to live. Capitalism thrives on cutting corners and gen ai is this like perfect invention to do that. We can forgo paying someone to write and review this article by feeding it through an automatic algorithm that can complete it for us, never mind the chances of including the wrong information and garbled mess of words, the only thing that matters is the completion and profit. Why would we pay someone to go through and design a viable character when we can skimp on it and let the noise machine give us something to work with. Forget about cross review or anything like that then we’d have to pay people to do it. Why would I learn how to paint and all the techniques and intricacies and histories of why we make art and the journey when I can use an algorithm to give me what I want. I want the product. I only care about the product. The end is all that matters. Why care about knowing how to love the process? I want the product. Show me the product.

[shoggoth-the-bitch]

So I've seen a few posts at this point suggesting the theory that Arthur's lighter might have something to do with the Black Stone Arthur and John are being sent to find by Kayne. Well I have some additional thoughts to add to the idea.

I think it's a really solid theory. Kayne can't see the stone and he always seems to forget about the lighter. And at this point Arthur has pointed out that Kayne has forgotten the lighter at least twice I believe. They also keep making it a point that Arthur just kinda randomly remembers it in his pocket. It just feels like that really want us to remember that the lighter is there, without saying out right that it's important beyond being a source of fire and light.

Personally, I think maybe the lighter might even have the stone inside of it. Like maybe it's just really small? Or maybe it just has a fragment of the stone inside of it? The lighter did, after all, belong to Roland Cummings, who found himself in the Dreamlands and is now apparently in the Dark World. Roland could have found the stone and hid it because he knew it was an object of power.

And the stone might also be the reason that Arthur is able to handle being a host for John/Yellow. Like, Kayne keeps wracking his brain about what makes Arthur special but what if there isn't actually anything special about him specifically? What if it's just the result of his exposure to the stone? Maybe that's way Larson was dying after only a few days of being a host to Yellow, even though Arthur survived literally both of them for roughly five or six months at this point.

More than that, does anyone else think Arthur heals really fast? Like, I know some of his healing is due to magical forces protecting him and part of it is the magic of story telling. But the man is riddled with scars, from wounds that seem to heal impossibly fast. Like, Arthur set his own broken legs only for them to immediately heal. It's implied that Kayne healed them but why would he? He clearly found his struggles funny. And being gored by the monster in the mines? Yeah, John patched him up but some thread from his jacket and some fishing hooks wouldn't have fixed him up that fast. He was running and squeezing through tight spaces in no time at all. By the time that got to New York the wound was entirely forgotten about.

This is all to say, I think the stone is protecting Arthur to some degree. I don't think it could keep him from dying but I think is helps him heal faster and might even give him a bit of luck. I did point out a while ago but Arthur does seem to be one lucky son of bitch given that he keeps taking near fatal wounds but seems to live through each one. He's covered in scars but not one injury has stuck yet.

And I think that's all because he's carrying the stone with him and literally no one knows. Maybe it's even something divine in nature? The cultist used the Grey Stone to get what they wanted but what if in a way that's how the lighter works too? "This too shall pass." They constantly quote the line, like a mantra that they entrust their blind faith into. Almost certainly something an object of power would latch onto and use almost as a form of worship and reverence.

[awkward-walking-potato]

Hiii!! I absolutely loved your post of where remy , Logan and Scott and rescue a mutant reader from the illegal mutant cage fighting scenario!! Could you do that one but with Kurt/Nightcralwer!! ❤️ thank you 😊

Kurt Wagner (Nightcrawler) x Reader Headcanons: Discovering You Were in an Illegal Mutant Cage Fighting Ring

- Kurt’s first reaction would be one of shock and deep concern when he learns about your past in an illegal mutant cage fighting ring. His heart would ache at the thought of you being forced into such a violent and dangerous situation. The gentle and kind-hearted Kurt would find it hard to reconcile the idea of you, someone he cares about, having endured such brutality.

- His instinct would be to comfort you immediately. Kurt would wrap you in a protective embrace, his tail curling around you as well, as if trying to shield you from the memories. He would speak to you in soft, soothing tones, reassuring you that you are safe now, and that you never have to go through something like that again.

- Kurt has experienced his share of discrimination and cruelty due to his appearance and powers, so he would feel a deep empathy for you. He would understand how the world can be cruel to those who are different, and he would express how sorry he is that you had to suffer through such an ordeal. He’d want you to know that he sees your strength in surviving it.

- If and when you’re ready to talk about your experiences, Kurt would be an incredibly patient listener. He wouldn’t push you to share more than you’re comfortable with, but he’d be there to listen to every word if you chose to open up. He’d gently hold your hand, offering a supportive presence without judgment or pity, just understanding.

- In the aftermath of your revelation, Kurt would be more affectionate and gentle with you than ever. He would be mindful of your boundaries, but he’d always be there to offer a comforting touch or a reassuring smile. He’d be constantly aware of your emotional state, wanting to help you heal and feel safe in his presence.

- While Kurt is usually very peaceful, the thought of you being hurt would awaken a fiercely protective side of him. He might not show it outwardly all the time, but he’d make a silent vow to keep you safe from harm. If he ever encountered anyone involved in the ring, his usually forgiving nature might falter—he’d struggle with anger, knowing what they put you through.

- Kurt would be in awe of your strength and resilience. He would often remind you how strong you are for surviving such a harrowing experience and making it out the other side. He’d encourage you to see yourself not just as a survivor, but as someone with incredible inner strength.

- Kurt would want to help you heal, both physically and emotionally. He’d suggest spending time doing things that bring you peace and joy, whether it’s exploring nature together, practicing meditation, or even sparring in a safe, controlled environment if you wanted to regain your confidence in your abilities.

- Understanding that trust might be difficult after what you’ve been through, Kurt would be incredibly patient in building that trust between you. He’d never rush you into anything, always letting you set the pace for how your relationship develops. His kindness and gentle nature would make it easy for you to trust him, but he’d always be careful not to take that trust for granted.

- Given his strong faith, Kurt might offer spiritual support if it’s something you’re open to. He would never push his beliefs on you, but he’d offer prayers for your healing and peace, hoping to provide comfort in whatever way he can. He’d want you to know that he believes in redemption and healing, and that you deserve both.

- Kurt would want to celebrate your freedom from the cage fighting ring. He’d plan something special to mark the occasion—maybe a day trip somewhere beautiful or a small celebration with close friends. He’d want to create new, positive memories with you, to remind you that you’re no longer trapped, and that you have a whole life ahead of you filled with possibilities.

- Ultimately, Kurt would make sure you knew that he is always there for you, no matter what. Whether you need a shoulder to cry on, someone to laugh with, or just quiet companionship, Kurt would be there. His love and support would be unwavering, helping you rebuild your sense of safety and trust in the world.

[rockpapertheodore]

I cannot tell you how frustrated I am with the anti-math movement because despite what anyone thinks in high-school, you use math constantly every day in ways the very, like, sexless? way school teaches math will never prepare you for.

If you want to run a business? Inventory costs, storage and logistics, labour and wages, bills.

You have any customer service job? You are making change. You are making SO much change. All the time. Sometimes the computer works and you're safe, but sometimes your entire point of sale is beholden to the whims of a third party system with a web server of your entire inventory on the other side of the state and it's gone down. Again. So u gotta do all the math on paper because you're still open because it's an inconvenience, not a reason to stop business.

Baking.

Building something? Gotta do some dang ol' physics and engineering if u wanna do it efficiently and with minimal expenses.

Sports people are doing so much subconscious math all the time, without ever knowing it, and being aware of all the ways geometry (if ur playing a stick-and-ball game like baseball or cricket or pool) or physics (literally every sport)

I'm not gonna lie, I'm not sure where I was going with this beyond "im so annoyed with the incompetent presentation of math in US public schools." Please understand I'm not trying to shame anyone, and I am not judging anyone for struggling with math. Math is an arcane wizard language invented to quantify and understand the functions of the world around us. The human brain is a pleasure-seeking monkey with astronomical pattern-recognition abilities, and some beautiful autist in the past went "hey actually what if I could measure everything?" And math started.

I'm not even particularly good at any discipline beyond general mathematics because I've been making change for customers since I was 6.

Also its really fun making ur bosses sweat when you piece together the profit margins on accident because you 'tism for a second and guesstimate the cost of buying in the product and margin of profit based upon sale price and volume of sales.

Anyway learn and understand just enough to survive, and then just enough more to make your employers sweat when you can explain to your coworkers approximately how much the store is making.

Shoutout to my discalculic homies, I don't know how to make math that doesn't suck yet, but I'll do my damndest to help u out when they create a sequel to numbers that makes sense.