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p0orbaby · 7 months ago

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Spring

summary: the biggest challenge you and Alexia have had to face

warnings: child loss, grief

a/n: this is pretty fucking sad so I’m sorry in advance

word count: 2.4k

It was written in the stars, you thought.

Aligned with the season of fresh starts and soft breezes. Sunny evenings and cups of tea sipped on the back porch as the birds sing their morning chorus.

Aurelia, golden like the sun. Silvio, strong and steady.

Either would be fine. Either would be perfect. As long as they had Alexia’s eyes and her determination to make the world a better place, you’d be happy.

The days leading up to the birth were a blur of last-minute tasks and impatient preparations. Nights were spent lying in bed, imagining the future. First steps in the garden, lazy Sunday mornings filled with laughter, and the simple joy of watching your child grow. Each conversation was a step further into the dream you both held dear for so long.

One evening, as the sky blazed with the colors of sunset, you and Alexia sat together outside. Garden chairs close and knees touching. The air was filled with the scent of blooming flowers, and the sounds of the neighborhood settling into the evening. You felt the world around you slowing down, relaxing.

As though the earth was taking a break just for the two of you.

One last moment of peace.

It was that night that there was a shift.

One you’d been waiting for for nine months.

You woke with a start, a sharp pain cutting through the haze of sleep. Alexia was beside you in an instant, her eyes wide with concern and excitement both. The contractions had begun, each one marking the imminent arrival of your baby. The room seemed to hum with anticipation as the two of you prepared to leave for the hospital.

The hospital bag finally picked up from its spot by the front door.

The drive was surreal, the world outside passing in a blur. Alexia held your hand, her grip reassuring as she whispered calming words to quell your nerves. The hospital loomed ahead, a beacon of hope and anxiety. Inside, the staff moved with practiced efficiency, guiding you through the steps with gentle encouragement.

Hours stretched into a timeless void, filled with the ebb and flow of labor. The pain was intense, but Alexia’s presence grounded you. Her voice, her touch, her unwavering support carried you through the toughest moments. The delivery room fizzed with activity, the air thick with expectation.

And then, the moment arrived. The baby’s first cries filled the room, a sound so pure and full of life that it brought tears to your eyes. The nurse placed your baby in your arms, and you looked down at the tiny, perfect face. Alexia leaned over, her green eyes shining with tears you wished to bottle for eternity.

A miracle. A door is yet to be opened and here lies new life.

Strong and steady. The sycamore trees in the garden will keep watch.

For a brief, fleeting moment, the world was perfect. Your hearts swelled with joy, your minds filled with visions of a future that seemed bright and boundless and exciting. The exhaustion, the pain, all of it was worth it for this precious new life cradled in your arms.

The world stopped turning.

Your baby’s cries grew weaker, then stopped altogether. The nurse’s smiles faded as one gently took the baby from your arms. The room, once filled with warmth and life, grew cold and sterile. You watched in stunned silence as doctors and nurses rushed in, their movements urgent and efficient and practiced, you realised.

Alexia’s grip on your hand tightened painfully, her eyes wide with fear. No one answered your unspoken questions, the minutes stretching into forever, the silence broken only by the muffled sounds of medical equipment and hushed whispers. You felt a hollowness growing in your chest, a cold, creeping dread that settled deep in your tired bones.

Finally, a doctor turned to you, his face a mask of professional sorrow. He spoke softly, his words a death knell. The world shattered around you. Alexia’s sobs echoed in the emptiness, a sound of pure, unfiltered grief. And though you felt yourself slipping, it was those sounds, the raw stripped back emotion she kept hidden from eyes that weren’t yours that broke you completely.

Alexia Putellas has shown the world she is human.

The ground beneath you gave way to a chasm of despair. Your baby, your beautiful, perfect baby with your nose and your wife’s hair, was gone.

“It’s like you don’t even care!” Alexia’s voice is harsh, cutting through the oppressive silence that has settled over the house.

You look up, startled and defensive from where you’re sitting on the sofa. “What are you talking about? How can you even say that?”

Alexia’s face is flushed with anger, something you don’t see off the pitch often. “You sit there every day, doing nothing. You don’t talk to me, you don’t look at me. It’s like I’m living with a fucking shell of a person”

“I’m trying to cope, Alexia” you snap back. “We both are. Just because I’m not falling apart at the seams doesn’t mean I don’t care”

“Falling apart?” Alexia’s eyes widen, her voice rising. “You think this is falling apart? Our baby died, our son, and you’re acting like it’s just something we can just move on from!”

This all started because she caught you putting his clothes into boxes.

Caught is the wrong word. You weren’t hiding from her. But the day after everything happened she just sat in the rocking chair you picked out together and cried. Her nose buried in an unworn onesie. The label still attached.

You didn’t want that room to become a shrine to a boy you held only once.

“Don’t you dare,” you say, your voice shaking with fractured fury. “Don’t you dare tell me how to grieve. Everyone deals with things differently”

“And what, ignoring it is your way?” Your wife’s words are like daggers, each one hitting its mark. She always was a perfectionist. “Because that’s what you’re doing. You’re pretending everything’s fine when it’s not”

“You think I’m pretending?” you shout, finally standing up. “Do you think I don’t feel it every second of every day? The emptiness, the loss? It’s killing me too!”

“Then why don’t you show it?” she screams back, tears streaming down her face. “Why don’t you let me in? We’re supposed to be in this together, but you’ve shut me out completely”

“You don’t understand,” you mutter, turning away, unable to face her pain on top of your own.

The sycamores are casting shadows over the grass. How dare the sun shine so brightly.

“What don’t I understand?” Alexia demands, stepping closer, her voice trembling with desperation. “What do I not understand about losing our boy?”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “I can’t talk about it because it makes it real. Talking about it means accepting it, and I’m not ready to do that”

Her expression softens for a moment, as if she forgot she is supposed to be angry with you, then hardens again. “So what, you just shut me out? You leave me to deal with this alone because you’re too scared to face it?”

“It’s not that simple,” you reply, your voice barely audible to your own ears. “I’m doing the best I can”

“Well, your best isn’t good enough,” she shoots back, her voice breaking. “We’re falling apart, and you don’t even care”

“Don’t say that,” you plead, her words cutting deeper than you can bear.

“Then show me,” Alexia says, her voice softer but no less in pain. “Show me that you care, that you still want this, us”

You look at her, your heart breaking all over again. “I don’t know how”

The days after the argument with your wife feel like the twilight zone. Your home, once a sanctuary, now feels more like a prison, each room echoing with the whispers of what could have been. Friends and family, well-meaning and kind, flock to your side, but their presence often brings more discomfort than relief.

Salt in the wounds.

You're sitting on the couch, a half-drunk cup of tea cooling in your hands, as Alexia’s mother sits across from you. Her eyes are filled with sympathy you don’t want, her voice too gentle. "I can’t imagine what you’re going through," she says, her words meticulously planned out. "But we’re here for you, both of you”

You nod, forcing a smile. "Thank you," you reply, though the words feel empty. You appreciate their concern, but it does very little to fill the hollow ache inside you.

Eli reaches out, placing a hand on yours. "If there’s anything you need, anything at all..."

Before you can respond, the doorbell rings, and soon the house is filled with more people offering condolences, bringing food, and trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere.

Teammates with lopsided smiles. Friends with tears and hugs and sticky words. Nothing helps these days, not even your wife.

None of it seems to work.

You move through the crowd like a scent on a breeze, your smiles and nods automatic, your mind elsewhere and nowhere all at once.

In the kitchen, you find Alexia talking to her sister. The sight of them together, their heads bent in quiet conversation, brings a fresh wave of sorrow. You miss her, miss the connection you once shared. Now, even in the same room, she feels like she’s miles apart.

"How are you holding up?" Alba asks as you join them, her eyes wet.

Should you be crying more?

"I’m managing," you say, the lie slipping out effortlessly. It’s easier than trying to explain the turmoil growing inside your chest. Your mind.

Alexia glances at you, her eyes searching your face. "We’re taking it one day at a time," she adds, her voice strained, composed. You can tell she’s just about holding it together for your guests.

The support from friends and family is constant, yet it feels like a barrier rather than a bridge. They don’t understand the depth of your grief, can’t comprehend the void that has opened up inside you. Their attempts to comfort you only highlight the isolation you feel.

You think Alexia feels abandoned. She reaches for you every time you cross paths in the house. She hates that you pull away, skin prickling at the thought of being held. You hate that you crave her touch just as much but can’t bring yourself to seek it out.

How can one feel so alone when they are surrounded by so many? The same way you’re can be lost at sea and getting swallowed by waves that won’t leave you to die in peace.

One afternoon, when the house has finally quieted down, you find yourself standing in a patch of sun in the garden. The warmth on your skin felt almost foreign, a stark contrast to the coldness that had settled in your heart. The sycamore trees stood tall and proud, their leaves rustling gently in the breeze—a painful reminder that not everything gets the chance to grow.

As you stand there, lost in thought, you hear the door open behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was; you sense Alexia’s presence like a shadow that had become a part of you. She walks up beside you, her steps hesitant and heavy.

"They mean well," she says softly, coming to stand next to you.

"I know," you reply, your voice void of anything but impatience to finish the conversation. "But it doesn’t help”

Alexia sighs, her hand reaching for yours. "We’re surrounded by people, but I’ve never felt so alone”

You look at her, the weight of her words mirroring your own feelings. "Me too," you admit, pulling your hand away.

For a moment, the connection between you feels almost tangible. But the pain is still there, a barrier neither of you knew how to breach. The love that had once been your refuge now felt like a distant memory, overshadowed by loss and grief.

Nights are the hardest. The quiet hours stretch to the milky way and back, filled with the echoes of dreams that would never be. You lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the weight of each day pressing down on you. Alexia’s presence beside you was both a comfort and a reminder of how far apart you have drifted.

Her snores keep you awake.

You slip out of bed and wander through the house. The nursery door stands ajar, a silent sentinel to your shattered life. You step inside, the faint scent of baby powder and fresh paint lingering in the air.

The cot stands in the corner, empty and pristine, a cruel reminder of what you had lost. You reach out, your fingers grazing the soft fabric of the blanket, and the tears you’d held back for so long finally break free.

The moonlight filters through the window, casting a soft glow across the room. Shadows dance on the walls, a silent audience to your sorrow. The room feels both alive and desolate, filled with the unspoken dreams and hopes you had cherished.

Their favourite colour will never be green.

You sink to the floor, the weight of everything pressing down on you. The silence is deafening, filled with the murmurs of laughter that will never be heard, the soft coos that will never come.

The final cry that haunts your mind.

You wonder how the world can continue to turn, how the universe can remain unchanged, while your life has been irreparably altered.

Spring is in full bloom, the world outside your window bursting with life and color. The garden is a riot of flowers, vibrant reds, yellows, and purples dancing in the gentle breeze. Birds sing their songs, and the air is filled with the sweet scent of blossoms. It is as if nature itself was mocking your grief, the beauty and renewal of the season a sharp contrast to the desolation you feel inside.

You stand at the window, watching as a pair of robins build a nest in the sycamore tree. Their industriousness, their instinctive drive to create and nurture new life, is a painful reminder of what you have lost.

Strong and steady, that’s what you need to be.

Though you're a leaf in the wind, ready to be carried away.

#alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #fcb femeni #fcb femeni x reader #espwnt #espwnt x reader #woso #woso x reader #woso community

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pinazee · 6 months ago

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I have some random hatchetfield character HC’s (forgive me if any of these are repeats or already mostly canon haha) sorted by musical for ease.

TGWDLM :

-emma kills every house plant she touches but she doesn’t know this because pauls like a savant with plants (plant daddy) and takes care of them without her knowing

-bill and alice used to go to an afternoon tea place every sunday after church. It was their special daddy/daughter activity until alice turned 10. Whenever Alice is feeling down she stops by the shop and grabs a scone. Sometimes she’ll leave one at her dads place before shes taken back to her moms.

-ted was rarely in petes life growing up. By the time pete was old enough to remember him, ted was already moved out. He knew pete looked up to him though, and loved it. He would visit home, tell tales of his conquests (lies), and give pete just the shittest advice on how to pick up chicks (pete was 7).

-charlotte was the badgirl cheerleader in high school. She looked like sandra dee but acted like Rizzo. Thats when she got involved with sam. At her lowest point when she was 26 (having to be saved by the coast guard after a night of partying had her stealing a boat and losing the paddles shortly after, leaving her adrift for several hours) she found the church and changed her ways. This initiated the divide with sam who didn’t like this new version of her.

Black friday:

-toms favorite time of year was the first week of school. The kids were still squirrelly as they adjusted to class periods again, everyone was dressed in their best ready to show off their brace-less teeth or their new haircuts, there was a hum of excitement even as the kids groaned when they got their first piece of homework, and he got to play his favorite “accidentally chopped his thumb off” prank with all the freshman.

-Lindas always had “friends” because of her extravagant birthday parties but there was only ever one that actually knew her. During her 11th birthday, after her father had mocked her pig nose in front of everyone during the cake photo, linda hid in her room, and no one noticed she was gone- except for one boy, who came to see if she was okay. They became close after that. It wasn’t until months later that Linda learned he only came to ask because his mother made him (she was trying to find a way to lindas dad). She was so hurt that she had her dad pay off his parents to transfer him to sycamore.

-the first thing Lex ever bought was a bag of those shitty glow in the dark stars when she was 9 using the money she’d saved by scrounging for cans. She’d wanted them for months after she saw them in a friends house but her mom refused. She kept them up for years, even though they didn’t really glow anymore, because it reminded her that she could get things done on her own.

NPMD:

-steph is a huge gamer. She is frequently the highest scorer in any game she plays but her specialty is shooty games. She’s been known to seek revenge, often killing players she feels has wronged her over and over, hunting them down until the mods have to get involved. (I dont play games like that is that how it works? Lol)

-no one wanted to be the mascot. In fact, the kid who used to be the mascot quit the moment he heard max joined the team. The coach told them they needed one though so max grabbed the first dweeb he saw (richie) and shoved him inside. Richie had no choice but to roll with it, so even though it meant he was a target of maxs more often, it became worth it when people actually started cheering when he showed up. For him, its like cosplaying being popular.

-Ruth writes “friend fiction.” Each chapter is a different scenario on how her and another classmate could become involved. Pete and steph both have multiple chapters. Richie has none (simply because its never crossed her mind.)

-grace was kicked out of debate club because she ended every argument by saying it was gods will

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