#so now it got me thinking like ??? do I just have anxiety or are you like having second thoughts about me bc like that’s fine too but just.

[josephquinnswhore]

Christmas Eve - joel miller x female reader

summary: Christmas Eve with your husband.

word count: 2k

content warning: fluff..slight insinuations to sex, girl dad joel, heavily pregnant reader, anxiety surrounding pregnancy, birth etc. Pre established marriage, joel is in his early 30’s. no outbreak. I think that’s it?

a/n: it’s chrissy eve in Australia… 10:15pm as I’m posting this. Merry Christmas to all my moots / fans of Joel / Pedro / whoever reads this. Love you all x

Lights draped around the window frames and along the porch were strung up, emitting a golden glow along the cleared pathway to the front door. Tinsel is tightly wrapped around the wooden frame of the steps to your front house, complete with a beautiful wreath on your front door.

Through the curtains, you could make out Joel’s figure up on the step ladder, hanging more lights in the living room.

As you step foot into your home, the harsh wind follows you as you tap the snow off your boots on the doormat, a freezing breeze curls up your neck, making you shudder.

But as the front door closes behind you, all you feel is warmth. The ugly Christmas sweater you wore has poorly stitched reindeers, snowflakes and the ugliest shade of green you’d ever seen. Alas, You’re shocked to see Joel wearing his matching sweater as you step through the threshold of the living room.

Tinsel hangs along the hallways, the smell of the pine tree fills your lungs with warmth. Never did you think it could be possible to crave a smell—until now. The fresh scent of pine tree that Joel had cut down, he and Tommy had lugged it into your living room to use as a Christmas tree upon your insistence.

He turns to face you, raising an eyebrow at your messy hair and few intact snowflakes on your sweater. In hand, you’re clutching a sacred tin of powdered hot chocolate.

His ugly Christmas sweater is the same as yours, but red. His dark hair is littered with greys, feral curls untamed and his face framed with a pair of thick specs. The rainbow lights he’s hanging up with a hammer and nail reflect in them for a moment, before he removes them. His sweet, warm brown eyes meet your own.

“House looks good baby,” you call softly, admiring how beautiful the decorations looked with his determination, not allowing you to do anything more than decorate the tree, and wrap the gifts, since it was your favourite part about Christmas, excluding the gingerbread baking.

He climbs down the ladder, hooking his glasses through the neckline of his sweater, setting the hammer and nails onto the flat surface at the top of the step ladder.

“Without your vision this never would have come to life. Sarah’s going to love it.” He preens, stepping toward you. “How was it out there?” With an all recognisable voice of concern, you smile.

It was beginning to snow outside, and Joel was anxious the entire time you’d been gone.

“Chaotic, shopping on Christmas Eve isn’t for the weak. I had to practically fight an old lady to get this tin of hot chocolate you know?”

His soft laugh breaks the tension of his anxiety, just glad to have you back. His arms snake around you, resting on your hips. “Sounds like you needed your man to come with you hm? I’ve got no problems protecting my girl from the oldies.”

“I can handle them, plus.. I’m glad you stayed. Sarah’s going to be so happy when she sees all of this. Did you remember to do Santa’s footprints with flour?”

Tsk. “So much distrust baby, course I remembered, I ain’t the one with baby brain y’know?”.

You roll your eyes at him, shoving his chest lightly. “And who’s fault is that, hm?”

Joel chuckled as you rolled your eyes, knowing how much you secretly loved his teasing. He followed your gaze to the lights before smiling, proud of his work.

"I’ll take half the blame, honey," he said,

“If you don’t recall, I’ll recite the way you begged me to get you pregnant—“

With your cheeks warming you interrupt. “Alright.. alright. I remember.”

His thumb leaves your waist, curling into your cheek to caress you softly with adoration. "I’m glad you convinced me, baby. You look so beautiful, you’re glowing.”

Your cheeks feel warm at his praise. The warmth of the fire crackling inside of the living room begin to ease the ache in your joints, particularly your knees and ankles.

“I look and feel like a whale.” It had been hard on you, anyone could see, with your stomach so round and swollen, the Christmas sweater struggled to stretch over your stomach to cover it entirely.

Joel shook his head, slipping his warm hands underneath your sweater to caress your aching stomach in a soothing notion.

"No," he protested softly. "You look like my beautiful, pregnant wife who is about to bring a little bundle of joy into the world. Half of me, and half of you.”

With a soft hum, you find yourself smiling. The thought warmed your heart, a small bundle of love, made of you and him. “Flattery will get you everywhere with me, Joel Miller.”

"Hm?" Joel hums in return, planting a kiss on your cheek, his nose nudging your own. "That's good to know, I might have to use that to my advantage."

He leaned in to whisper in your ear, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine. "Maybe... it'll get me everything I want."

With a baited breath, you breathe out a shaky response. “And what is it that you want?”

"Hmm..." Joel pretended to ponder about it for a moment, his hands sliding down to rest on your hips again, fingers curling into the curved surface.

"Since you asked," he murmured, his voice low and enticing. "All I really want for Christmas is to spend it with you. But if you're looking for a more tangible gift, I guess I could think of a thing or two."

With a roll of your eyes, you snag a candy cane off of the tree beside you, and uncurl the plastic and stick the hooked peppermint lolly into your mouth, sucking the flavour off with a pop.

“Hot chocolate first.” You insist, kissing his cheek, leaving sticky residue on his warm skin. “I didn’t drive through a snowstorm and fight an old lady for nothing.”

You shake the tin of chocolate powder as if to remind him, garnering his attention.

Joel chuckled wipes the sticky candy cane residue off his cheek. “You got it mumma. Hot chocolate first, then I'll tell you what I really want for Christmas."

Joel gestured towards the couch by the fireplace with one hand and an expectant gaze.

"Go take a seat and relax. I'll make the hot chocolate, and then you can tell me about that beautiful baby of ours and how you’re feeling."

He swats your ass softly, amusement clear in his voice.

“Thanks baby. For everything. My feet are killing me.” Minutes later you graciously accept the warm mug of hot chocolate, the white mini marshmallows are soft and starting to melt.

"Anything for you baby.” You know he means it too.

He took a seat on the couch beside you, the leather sinking under his weight. "How's everything been today? Any contractions?"

You shake your head with a small mouthful of the gooey, warm, sweet drink. “No, nothing yet. I feel like she’s never going to come at this rate..”

A soft hum vibrates within your chest as he encourages you to shift towards him, and he props your feet up onto his lap to remove your shoes and socks, promptly massaging your swollen ankles.

“Do you think she’ll come before the new year?”

Joel continued massaging your ankles, looking down at your huge baby bump as you rubbed it tentatively, he can sense some anxiety coming from you as a first time expectant mother.

Sure, you’d practically raised Sarah since she was twelve months, but this was different. A newborn, the birth.. that was all new to you.

"Hard to tell, baby," he said with a thoughtful expression, not wanting to cause you any stress. "But judging by how big you are, I wouldn't be surprised if she decided to make her debut soon."

He looked up at you, his gaze meeting yours as he decided to pry further, coaxing the truth from you. "You feeling ready for the big day yet?"

“I’m terrified,” you admit in a gentle whisper between you, a sudden sense of vulnerability curates between the two of you. It makes it all the more real.

Joel's expression softened as you admitted your fears, his fingers pausing in massaging your ankles. Watching as you set your now empty mug down onto the coffee table, having satiated your sweet tooth.. for now.

"Hey, I get it," he reassures quietly, his thumb gently rubbing circles on your foot in a comforting gesture this time, rather than a massage. "Giving birth is a big deal, baby. But you're gonna be incredible. You're strong, you're capable, and I'll be right there with you every step of the way. I promise.”

Joel smiled warmly, squeezing your shoulder gently as you slowly processed his words of encouragement, that no matter what happened through the birth, you’d soon have a family of four. “You’re right.. it’s all going to be okay.”

"You're damn right it's going to be okay," he said with conviction. "Because we've got each other, Sarah, and our precious little girl.. Sadie, right?”

He moved his hand from your feet, leaning closer to place his hands on your stomach, feeling his daughter actively kick at his affectionate touch. Seeing you nod in confirmation. “Yeah.. Sadie.”

"Just think, in a few days, you'll be holding our baby in your arms."

The thought is overwhelming, a small baby in your arms, Sarah, who had turned six earlier in the year. She was stoked to be a big sister, asking every day when the baby was coming. Constantly cradling your heavy stomach with her small hands, singing as she prompts the baby to kick.

The image of innocence, a young child that still believes in Santa, which will hopefully carry into the next few years of your lives.

The thought makes you smile, wrapping dozens of presents for everyone and sticking them under the tree for all of you, your family of four plus Tommy and Maria who annually joined you for Christmas celebrations.

Joel glances around the living room, taking in the sights of the lights and the decorations that adorned the house. The tree stood in a corner, covered in colorful, homemade decorations from Sarah, the topper at the top of the tree shaped like a snowflake coloured in with a half dozen colours being Joel's favorite of them all.

"You know," he said softly, his hand still resting on your tummy. "This is going to be our last Christmas as a a family of three..."

The thought makes your heart ache with guilt or perhaps anxiety, biting into your lower lip. “It’s all a bit much isn’t it?”

"Yeah, it is," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. He was getting older now, creeping into his early thirties. To start over again, he felt a little out of practice.

"It's a lot to take in, baby, I know. But that doesn't mean it's a bad thing. We can do this together, Tommy and Maria will help.. we aren’t doin’ this alone. Sarah will adore our little girl. And I know you’re goin’ to be an incredible mother.”

Ever the romantic.

With a wry smile and your heart swelling inside of your chest, you offer him what he had indignantly prompted for earlier in the evening. “Want to try and get this baby out?”

Your hand trails through his hair with a suggestive smile. Joel raised an eyebrow at your suggestion, a sly grin spreading across his face.

"Hmm... Now that's a proposition I can get on board with, baby."

[systems-overloaded]

ill make a seperate post with the non-professional advice i give anyone with mental illness (active or history of) that is seeing a physical medical doctor. because this post ended up pretty long.

~

this is about some of our experiences of mental health issue affecting physical health care. as well as our physical health conditions affecting/interacting with our mental health conditions.

--

forewarning, it is a very long read. i tried to condense it, but i struggle to do that.

--

ooph, this shit is so true. although i do think there's a good amount of truth in neurosciences, i just think there are alot of /neurologists/ specifically that are shams, or at least extremely biased and prejudiced about alot of things. neurologists also seem to have the biggest ego of all specialists drs ive seen.

~

i have a couple genetic disorders, which like i have the clinical profiles for and also have genetic tests that match. but only after alot of years of progressively getting worse and going to so many doctors to try to find out why. i actually had to do a bunch of research when i could, even analysed my raw dna data from an ancestry test, found a specialist in the suspected disorders, and got a very clear clincal diagnosis, then got official WGS testing to further confirm that.

so my self-diagnosis was right for a good couple of my disorders actually, but most were diagnosed by others after the other diagnoses were confirmed.

(like evidence of one phsyical disorder made other drs start to take my other symptoms seriously thankfully, bc now it was less likely to be mental illness/conversion symptoms in their eyes.)

but one of the /very first diagnosis/ that a neurologist tried to give me was Functional Neurological Disorder (which i do think is understood to be a bit different now than conversion syndrome, but to most drs it meant the same thing back then. even now, alot of doctors use FND and conversion disorder interchangeably, they think FND is just conversion disorder but "rebranded" so there's less pushback about a diagnosis, which isnt true.)

but FND is a diagnosis of exclusion. thank fuck my moms knowledgeable about stuff and said "no, you cannot diagnose my child that from one conversation and zero tests except routine labs, thats only by exclusion. you have done no tests to investigate their symptoms." so it never was an offical dx, but it was in the doctors notes still, which follow me to other doctors unfortunately.

it should never be the first thing a neurologist diagnoses or suggests to someone. he probably tried to for me because i was on medicine for anxiety depression and OCD, and was having alot of neurological symptoms.

(he also tried to say all my decline, daily headaches and constant migraines id developed after a TBI was just "post concussion syndrome" and "stress", but it was still going on 4+ years at that point. we had no idea PCS is not supposed to last that long, and trusted him about that at least. but when i had to switch drs, my new neurologist was actually /appalled/ the previous one didnt do further tests, or even get an updated MRI. he honestly seemed in disbelief that the old dr was trying to tell us it was "totally normal" to still be so affected after so long, let alone be having a decline as well.)

id literally had to stop my OCD meds very abruptly and have awful withdraws because he (the old negligent neurolgist) refused to do any further testing until i stopped that medicine (without consulting a psychiatrist even, he just said i had to stop it. such such dangerous and reckless doctor advice/order).

i was progressively declining and having alot of seizures and different dangerous medical events. so i stopped it and suffered bad withdraws ontop of everything else that was happening, went back to him, just for him to say it mustve been stress still, i was "stressed".

-

"its stress" is a dr code phrase for "i dont have any idea whats happening with this patient but my ego will never let me admit that, so im going to blame the patient and say its all anxiety".

alot of drs wont admit if they dont know something. but all of my good drs, who have actually been investigating things and gotten to the bottom of a couple of my disorders, have admitted that because im a complex case, they dont know which issues are being caused by what.

they do tests to rule out or confirm major issues and then we try meds/treatments for various things to see if they help to try and find origins. and sometimes we just wont know what a symptom is from, but the goal is to find ways to improve my quality of life and capabilities, while doing frequent testing to keep an eye on the issue. like, all my best drs put their egos aside and say "lets investigate together".

i have been failed in alot of ways by the medical systems and doctors, but i have also had good drs and recieved alot of help as well.

--

but alot of that good help, only came after advocating and fighting like hell for my symptoms to be investigated properly. after doing a fuck-ton of research myself because the system was failing me and i was dying (literally), then finding a specialist in what i suspected was my main issue. they investigated and tested for it properly, then gave me a clincial diagnosis, then "proof" of the disorder via genetic testing later on.

--

im actually lucky in the sense that i actually have some known variants. because a couple of my genetic disorders dont always have known variants found yet, and despite myself having a very clear clincal profile, some doctors didnt even want to "accept" the diagnosis i was given, until they saw a clear genetic marker. even though i was diagnosed already, it was always "patient suspects ____ disorder, still awaiting WGS test to confirm.", "patient has concerns of ___ disorder, no genetic testing done yet.", "patients claims was diagnosed with ____, but no genetic testing done."

if my doctors hadnt been refusing to treat me for my other disorders, "until genetic tests come back", then i wouldnt have tried to get testing, because alot of drs who specialize in this disorder advocate for patients to NOT get testing, because even if someone has a clear clinical diagnosis and treatments are helping, if genetic results come back negative some doctors will take away the clinical diagnosis, stop treatments, and slap a conversion/FND label on them. then the patient doesnt improve because they dont have that, they have a genetic disorder with an un-found variant.

like, im talking about a disorder that the vast majority of people who have it, DO NOT have an identified variant, and it has clear clinical diagnostic requirements, which i fit. its not a diagnosis of exclusion, i fit the clinical tests and profiles, but so many doctors wouldnt accept my diagnosis unless i had a genetic test showing positive.

--

from the time of clinical diagnosis to actually getting testing was a little over 4 years, and my other doctors were all still treating my very real, very clear clincal diagnosis as if i was just suspecting it. so everything, all treatments except for PT (which always made me worse, which is a known thing with my disorder) and some of the meds i was already on, was being delayed and put into limbo, of "lets wait for the genetic test first", even things unrelated to that diagnosis.

everyone said i needed WGS before anything else, but insurance wouldnt cover it, even with appeals, and fighting for so many years for it. so i had to try and save for it myself which is crazy hard when you're disabled with no income. while saving up, we were still trying to get insurance to cover it.

--

so in this circumstance, thank fuck i actually had some known variants! because if i hadnt? i honestly would be dead. and i firmly believe that would be due to medical negligence and malpractice. which i also firmly believe was rooted in mental illness stigma, and stigma/bias due to the fact that an abuser was intefering with my health care (still is actually) by calling doctors offices and telling them that i have munchausens and/or by proxy.

(which i consider this to still be a mental health stigma/bias issue, not a genuine concern, bc alot of the tests and diagnoses i had are not something that someone can fake??? so seeing those shouldve made drs not take my abuser's words seriously, had they not been so biased about it, had it not clouded their judgment so much.)

-------------------

also, on the topic of phsyical abilities affecting mental health:

ooph i also have alot to say about that, in particular how my disabilities affect my OCD, and sometimes needing other people to engage in my compulsions for me, which sounds really weird when i word it like that.

and often i cant engage in some compulsions, or others cant get things "just right" for me, thats a major theme/pattern for my OCD. so ive basically been getting exposure therapy more and more as my physical abilities declined. and its awful awful for both me and my caregivers/helpers when im trying to convey while very stressed the exact way they need to place something or do something, etc. and when im overhwlemed or dysregulated (like how OCD can cause) then im very prone to meltdowns and to speech loss episodes as well, which then interferes with being able to communicate what i need in that moment too.

~

and needing help requires so much vulnerability, often i have people willing to help. safe people, who i love and the logical part of me knows would never actually hurt me. but with traumas and triggers, sometimes i just dont shower, or dont change my clothes, or i hold my urine in, or dont do some other things if i require help.

(and having experiences that match a PDA autism profile, whether from trauma or autism or a mix of both idk. can make all that worse too. i deny my own needs, even when i can do them, because my body is trying to demand it from me, which feels like a threat to my autonomy and choices.)

on the phsyical capabilities level though, i try to wait it out as long as i can until i can muster the energy and abilities to do something myself, or until i cant wait longer and need help. ill try to orient myself to remind i am safe, and sometimes just have to face those emotions, face those triggers.

i know that sounds bad, and i mean it is bad. i dont want to downplay it too much, but i also think its a fairly normal response to the things have have happened to me, and the loss of control my illnesses cause/create/exacerbate.

i have all the supports in place to be able to recieve that help, im often needing that help, but i need to try to hold onto control and autonomy as much as possible that id rather be lacking in my hygeine (especially bc im not even leaving the house or being very active to get sweaty or gross), or have abdominal pain from holding urine/bowel movements in, than traumatize myself if i might just be able to wait a longer until i have the ability to transfer myself and clean myself.

-

my mental illnesses and PTSD affect my willingness to recieve the help from safe and well meaning people even when i do need it. and that then further can affect my mental and/or phsyical health.

like, its just a really shitty situation, that im still trying to learn the best way to cope with. trying to find the best way to let myself recieve help. to let myself to vulnerable, to truly /feel/ that its safe to ask for help even. not logically know, but actually feel it.

thankfully, my main caregiver is respectful of my "no's", and even if shell emphasize if i need to shower, check ive ate or drank water, and offer me help if i need it, she respects when i say "i need help but i dont want it, ill let you know when it gets to the point you need to be hands-on."

shes well meaning, but we still have some communication issues, especially when i have alot more speech issues, and can struggle to communicate to her.

i often think others can read my mind, not in the delusion way, but in the sense that i assume others can read my body lanaguge (even when im not being physically expressive, flat face, etc), and that the way i feel and the things i need are just already understood by others.

and i dont always realize how different some of my thinking patterns/needs are from others as well, and assume they experience some of the same things, so they are just automatically understand.

-

and ive had multiple instances now, when i was having anaphalaxis, but have traumas around needles i cant control (and auto injectors count as a needle i cant control). ive had to wait until i was too incapacitated from an allergic reaction, to have my mom inject me with an epipen.

i am mentally incapable of injecting an auto injector, and will physically resist when capable too even if i want the epinephrine. i can get really severe flashbacks just /thinking/ about needles being inside me. i cannot get the body to do it.

so, i have given prior consents for her to be able to inject me with an epipen if im having really bad reactions even if i say no. but she has had to wait until im too weak or sick, or just dissociated and disconnected and in fawn/flop/freeze rather than fight/flight, to inject me.

so its at least not too bad of a trauma, but it is still extremely traumatic. to need that, and to need someone i love and feel safe with, need to be the person that injects that needle i cant control.

---

well, this was a very long responses. seems when i do post, i write alot. i can struggle to condense and summarize things well, so i apologize if there was too many details or words.

just writing to the void of the internet, a world of strangers and bots. so if feels like i can be more open i think.

i cant speak for everyone but i feel like it's underrated just how much impact being physically disabled has on mental health. because physically disabled people often have to remind others that we struggle with mental health issues that it sometimes sounds like an afterthought to others. but it's a real impact of being physically disabled. being unable to go outside or leave the bed worsens depression. having actively declining health worsens depression because part of depression is being unable to imagine a future for yourself. it also creates anxiety. you have to rely on people. on carers, family, the government. it's hard to assure anxiety when you are in a precarious position and the "worst case scenario" is not something you can circumvent or deal with, because lack of care will kill you. has killed people like you. being told you are worthless, that people like you should die or never live in the first place has a big impact on mental health. being physically disabled and unable to defend yourself, being forced to rely on people, opens up a lot of opportunities for abuse and trauma. being in pain is traumatic, medical procedures may be traumatic - and being a disabled child leads you to be doubly vulnerable. people often have to focus on their physical needs to keep them alive - to keep them clean and fed and such. and with such little energy to spare it is difficult to manage mental health. all the stigma surrounding mental health doesn't disappear because you're already disabled. sometimes when you do reach out people will just focus on trying to make you less disabled in order to cure the mental illness issue, instead of giving you the tools to help manage it in your current and real life.

[mosoderbergh]

Have some more NSFW Emmrich

I just couldn’t keep my hands off of Emmrich’s breeding kink. Honestly? What a thought. So here’s my own little twist.

The first time, Rook very much accidentally triggers him. They’re still in their honeymoon phase, still at the lighthouse. Everyone sits at the kitchen table. Manfred’S latest shenanigans are discussed. Rook, not for the first time, calls him their “skeleton son”.

“Do you have any children, Emmrich?”, asks Davrin. “Other than Manfred, of course.”

“Ah.” It’s said with a smile, but there’s a buried sadness there. “I’m afraid it wasn’t to be, no.”

“Not yet, anyway”, Davrin chuckles.

There’s a flash of concern on Emmrich’s face. His eyes meet Rook’s, who has already come to suspect this is a sensitive subject. They swoop in to save him.

“Oh, he knows he’s welcome to try and get me pregnant whenever he wants”, they say, their voice dripping with innuendo. They take potions regularly to make sure it doesn’t happen, which Emmrich knows. Their intention is to gross the others out so much the subject gets dropped.

Lucanis chokes on his coffee. Taash boos. Davrin tells them to get a room. The conversation moves on. But Rook catches Emmrich’s glance, his face blank, eyes dark. As soon as the topic is well and truly forgotten he leans in, whispers: “A word, dearest”, his voice tense in a way that gives Rook anxiety. They excuse themselves from the table and Rook earnestly worries that they’ve offended him. They barely make it through the door to Emmrich’s library before he has Rook pinned against the nearest wall. Rook knows Emmrich as an attentive lover, giving to a fault. More often than not, Rook has to do a bit of sweet-talking before Emmrich lets his own pleasure be the focus, and wringing little sighs from him has become one of Rook’s favourite games. Right now, Emmrich is whimpering into Rook’s mouth, groping them with a neediness that renders him clumsy. Rook is more than willing to help. They are undressed within moments, and Emmrich in on them again immediately, taking just enough time to position them both against the desk for support.

It doesn’t take long before they are soaking wet, mainly because this new side of Emmrich turns them on so much they think they might just black out. Usually, Emmrich tends to lavish them with praise, and the way his voice falters in between declarations of affection when he’s losing control is the hottest thing Rook has ever heard - until tonight. Because right now, Emmrich, who usually doesn’t shut up right until the very end, is unmistakably too horny to form words. He enters them with a cry that is equal parts need and relief, as if every second leading up to their union had him in agony. Rook wraps themselves around him, cooing into his ear that yes, Maker, he feels good, this is so right, they want him so much. The one word that makes it over Emmrich’s lips is Rook’s name, uttered over and over, a moan, a whisper, a plea. Emmrich doesn’t last long, and he comes with a groan from so deep within his soul it seems entirely removed from his speaking voice.

Rook wraps their arms tight around Emmrich as he catches his breath against their neck. They can sense his mind kicking back into gear, ever overthinking.

“That”, they whisper into his ear before he can even begin to feel self-conscious about what just happened, “was amazing.”

Emmrich huffs a laugh that is muffled by Rook’s skin. He sounds incredulous. They untangle from each other, just enough for Emmrich to rest his forehead against Rook’s. His smile is somewhat sheepish, but his eyes glow with adoration.

“I truly wish I could explain”, he says.

“Oh, I think I got the gist of it”, Rook says with a grin.

The way he spoils Rook after feels almost like an apology. Rook wishes he left them with enough breath to say there’s nothing to be sorry for. Then again: They’ll have time enough to talk later.

[bananapeeeeellssss]

I was reading a bunch of DPXDC stuff on here and AO3 with Ghost King Danny, and thinking about how people wrote when he spoke if it wasn’t hear-able to human ears or a different languages and that got me thinking - what would that sound like? Then my brain did some braining and thought - wouldn’t it be cool if it was just all languages overlapping? Like “Who goes there” in English, but at the same time every known and unknown language (or just the dead ones, since he *is* the Ghost King) at the exact same time with the translation. That would support the whole ‘super hard/impossible to translate’ because it could change every time depending on what languages or sounds are enunciated more.

Add in the fact that logically, the vast majority of gods would not just speak the language you know or maybe even the most commonly used, this kinda makes sense? Well, not really, but who cares. As a wise author once stated, “canon is a sandbox and I am the lightning which will shape it to glass” or smth like that. Also, anyone who dies instinctively knows how to understand the language(s) so they can understand their king (as Ghosts). So now I’m just imagining a situation like this (forgive me, I don’t know how to bold or italics or anything on tumblr I’m new):

Constantine, furiously flipping through translations book after translation book of paranormal languages and not finding anything on God speak: “Bloody hell, where is it!”

Danny, who just got summoned by some cult/to save the world/for some other reason and has crazy social anxiety but needs some kind of ‘sacrifice’ to make the summoning legal or else do a bunch of paperwork, thinking: *Can I just ask for a sacrifice? Would that be rude?*

Danny, Awkwardly: “I need a sacrifice before I can leave. Just like a rock will do. I don’t like paperwork.”

Constantine, attempting to translate, gesturing vaguely and panicked as he continue to flip through book after book: “It’s saying that it needs a sacrifice in Kevlar**, something about a crystal, and Korea?*** I think it wants Black Bat as a sacrifice?

Jason: *Cackling* How did you translate that so badly?

**Sacrifice in Hmong is Kev txi

***Paperwork in Acoli is “Karatac”, also I know Cass is Chinese not Korean but for the sake of this Constantine does not and/or assumes that the Ghost King can’t tell

Or, Jason randomly discovering that he can understand any language now. Just not speak it.

In conclusion, I have now decided that whenever a god speaks it is representative of all those who have ever entered their domain or presence, and because mortals are not capable of understanding the complexities and beauties of language, they will never understand.

…crap, now I want to write a tragedy or essay or poem or something about the symbolism

TLDR: God language is just all languages overlapping at once, scenario, and author having a mental breakdown over ELA and this being much longer than expected

[vengefultakeover]

Yes, Doctor

I tapped my foot as I waited for the doctor to come in and see me. I had just gone through the normal procedures with the nurse, checking my weight, taking my blood pressure, the works. I was nervous to get the results of my last test after a scare with my platelet count. I had gone down a long spiral of online searches and pushing myself towards an anxiety attack I would probably had not come back from. The phone call to schedule an appointment was normal, unable to detect anything in the voice on the other end.

"You will be just fine." She said before hanging up. Maybe I should have been worried.

"Hello there, how are you doing today?" He was holding the clipboard like a shield. Bad sign. You would think they would try to make me as comfortable as possiblle to break the bad news.

"What's wrong with me?" I asked, wincing as he sat down next to me.

"Nothing at all - we just wanted to go over some of the results with you to talk about a healthier future." He said with a smile that melted away my worries. The moment I returned the smiled I saw something clear out of the corner of my eye. I snapped my head towards it and could make out a head poking through the wall.

"What the fuck?" My jaw dropped as I looked at it and when the doctor looked back at the apparition peeking in through the cinderblocks he looked back at me with a confused face.

"Are you alright?" He asked, reaching out.

"You can see me?" The head said. I nodded. What else was I supposed to do.

"I think maybe we should get you psychologically evaluated." The doctor said, writing something down. The specter emerged from the wall with a glowing aura and he quickly rushed the doctor. He dropped his clipboard shield and pen sword and gasped as the ghost slid his fingers between his lips and pulled his mouth open. With a gag, the ghost shoved his head into his mouth while I stared in awe with the sounds of slurping filling the room. My cock twitched as the tight scrub pants tightened and the doctor's bulge appeared. Inch by inch the ghost filled up the doctor's body, his neck bulging and his eyes tearing up until he got knocked back in his chair. The last of the tail disappeared with a wet pop and the doctor looked at me with wide eyes. His left arm flailed away from his body and I could see where the ghost was inserting itself into his limb. The rest followed suit, his legs kicking out from underneath him until he spun around like a cartoon character and was looking down at himself with a shit eating grin.

"What the fuck just happened?" I watched him slide his hands down his body, the musculature of the doctor poking through the fabric. Within seconds he wanted to see more and stripped off the scrubs, tossing them to the side while returning the stethoscope to his neck like an accessory.

"Let's have some fun, fleshie." He pushed off his underwear and was now standing in the room without any clothes on, smirking at me.

"I'm not sure what's going on. What are you?" I asked. He took a step closer to me and I could feel his warmth. His cock was getting harder and so was mine.

"I'm shocked you were able to see me. I've never had a living see my ghost form. You weren't scared of it?" He chuckled.

"I think there are worse things in this world to be afraid of." I shrugged, the list growing longer in my mind.

"I suppose that's a good way to think about it." He inched closer to me, his cock grazing against my bulge.

"I guess so." My breath was starting to pick up.

"What do you say we have some fun while we're here?" He was grinning now, his hands sliding around my waist. A light tug and I was pressed against him, his cock sandwiched between us and pulsing. I pushed my hand up against his chest and squeezed, feeling his fuzzy pec in my hand.

"Will he know?" I wondered.

"They never do. We'll call it ghost-patient confidentiality." He got a kick out of that and his abs tightened as he laughed. I leaned in and kissed him, initiating the aggressive push against the wall and the grinding into my body. He couldn't really control himself, he was like a sexy doctor rabbit in heat. His hands squeezing me as I worshipped his body, suddenly finding myself bent over the examination table while he was beginning to explore my hole with his tongue. The crinkly white paper crunched below me and when I squeezed the sides of the bed my fingers turned red.

"Fuck yes. I want you so bad." I don't know what came over me as the doctor positioned himself behind me, his cock pulsing as he aligned it with my hole, squeezing it in. I bit my lip to prevent the moan from being heard outside of here. With each thrust I noticed I was barely breathing as I got so wrapped up in the pleasure. I could feel his cock starting to release inside of me and suddenly I was full of my doctor's seed while he was moaning, not keeping it from being heard.

"That was amazing. Maybe I'll haunt you outside of this stupid hospital." He slipped out of me and it made me shiver.

"I think I'd like that, Doctor." I said, standing up as we were both returning the crime scene back to its original condition. I pinched his nippled just as he slip the scrubs back on and I sat down where I was when the doctor's body was invaded.

"What are you doing?" He asked at the door.

"Oh, are you going to leave him?" I asked.

"Not today, we're going to go have some fun." He extended his hand and I was whisked away by this possessed hunk. I came in with the fear of a horrible diagnosis and somehow left closer to death than I ever thought I would be.

[holymolyfizzie]

i don't wanna derail @kityana's post about stolas's pill popping, so i'm making a separate one. but something kityana said finally made me think about something: "i'm still not sure if those pills are actually helping him or if they were just given to him to numb him to how shitty his life is"

I've wondered something related to this a lot myself. but Stolas takes his antidepressants with alcohol (and in the aftermath of alcohol, like at the end of The Circus), which is a depressant. taking antidepressants + alcohol at best just cancels out your antidepressants so they don't actually do anything. but both at once, at worst, makes your depression symptoms a lot worse. taking them together is the sort of stuff that college girls get yelled at for, but i guess no one told stolas. i wouldn't be surprised if he's been popping them like candy and upping his dosage because he was told they would help him…and then they don't because of the rampant alcoholism. which is to say that we don't know if the meds even worked for him at all (i'd argue strongly they didn't, considering his alcoholism only ever got worse and he kept taking more and more pills, like they never worked enough) or if they were a placebo while he was taking them

and this might be a bit too nuanced for such a show, but as someone who has suddenly gotten off antidepressants that didn't work at all, the withdrawal symptoms don't always affect mood that much (they did nothing for it to begin with) and they sure as hell don't last a full month after getting off. in fact, going cold turkey off of meds that do work for you shouldn't have withdrawal symptoms that last a full month (if you do, it's a Talk to Your Doctor moment). i just really wonder if Stolas noticed the lack of antidepressants after the first few days beyond the old habit of taking them, and if we really can contribute much of his mental breakdown to getting off antidepressants

but you know what he was taking religiously, that did affect him for sure, and that we haven't seen him touch in a month now? the alcohol. he was drinking during Mastermind, but he clearly hasn't touched it since the trial. Blitz doesn't seem to have alcohol around, and Stolas wouldn't ask for the extra expense -- he's being forced to quit. he passes up Loona's beelzejuice at the Sinsmas party, noticeably. the beelzejuice is brought in, and Stolas immediately goes outside for a smoke instead. he's not drinking anymore. and quitting alcohol cold turkey is an insane process, esp at his level of hard liquor. we're talking about disastrous health consequences and a whole host of withdrawal symptoms -- anxiety, depression, irritability, fatigue, loss of appetite, brain fog, hallucinations, and much worse stuff (in humans, seizures). it's impossible to underestimate the severe damage alcoholism does to your brain and body longterm. and a lot of those withdrawal symptoms stay weeks after stopping cold turkey

like, i don't want to detract from him going off of antidepressants; he needs and obviously wants working antidepressants, he's desperate for them. but i'm gonna be so for real, i've had my experiences going off ineffective antidepressants, and i've watched family members try to quit alcohol. an alcoholic quitting is a brutal, drawn out process that shakes me to my core. there are reasons a person still says "i am an alcoholic" even a decade after quitting. that shit's insidious in a way that antidepressants aren't, and it was affecting stolas noticeably more, surely enough to render his meds useless. if you want him back on antidepressants, then you need a sober Stolas first, and this is what he's FINALLY working on

so i think more emphasis needs to be placed on Stolas's recovery from alcoholism when discussing his mental breakdown, irritability, etc. the fact that he's doing this without rehab or other interventions is miraculous, nearly impossible. i don't want his impressive recovery (so far) from alcoholism to end up getting buried under the antidepressant talk ngl, especially when his getting off of alcohol now means that his antidepressants may actually work in the future and help him. this is something to be so so proud of!!

[linddzz]

While yes, Viktor is confident too, but...

This man isn't shy? He's hyperventilating and nervous-tapping over the idea of giving a speech!

This man?

I guess Im not getting across like, the Vibe that I always see that bothers me? Viktor's got the social anxiety for sure, and it's VERY fair to assume that his condition makes him even more self conscious to be up in front of a crowd full of topsiders. He's pretty clear in episode 1 that he's aware of how topsiders see him and his cane use, and that's before his disability is even more visible.

But ALSO very few people ARE good on a stage in front of tons of people. And also there's a very specific connotation to "shy" that is beyond social anxiety.

Shyness to me, is its own flavor of social anxiety plus timidness. The actual definition is a bashful, timid nervousness. It has connotations of the wilting flower personality. Viktor, even when he's quiet around other people doesn't come across as nervous or timid in the slightest. His first introduction has him VERY confident and collected surrounded by enforcers and not taking Jayce being snappy and angry at him. As a kid there's more of an argument to be made because what awkward socially isolated kid isn't going to be shy. But at the same time he doesn't try to shrink away from Sky's attention, he still looks right back up at her, he just keeps on doing his own thing. Mostly he comes across as someone who does not know how to casually interact with people so he doesn't. He's got tunnels in his eyes lmao.

Viktor is complicated. Viktor is nuanced. It's why he's Ultimate Blorbo. He's withdrawn and awkward and not very good at interacting with people, but he's not timid about it. He is very self assured in himself.

But when I say fandom makes him shy it IS much more of the wilting flower timid woobie that I kept seeing in Season1 fics. There was SO MUCH of Viktor being the nervous soft spoken anxious thing who was just so happy Jayce was even giving him the time of day as if Viktor didn't sass Jayce about his notes right after he stopped the man from jumping lmaoooo

And idk not to be TOO OBVIOUS with my projecting but it's the part of Viktor I can relate to the most. I consider myself a quiet person who gets annoyed when people think that me being quiet = shy. I'm able to speak up well on zoom calls with colleagues and I also would rather drop dead than have to go up on a stage in front of a bunch of normal people who I know were expecting someone very different. I get nervous and shaky speaking up in front of a crowd of colleagues even! but afterwards I can go right up to people like "your presentation was insane tell me more right now." I am often quiet and uncomfortable in large social situations because I know that most people there are operating under a different wavelength than I am, I do not know what the right responses to things are, or I full on do not know how to not accidentally come across as a huge asshole and I don't want to be an asshole. And when I was younger I would have so many people come up and act like I was a little wallflower (bc oh boy can I also relate to being quiet while physically small meaning being constantly infantalized) who "didn't need to be so shy" and every time I was like "I'm not shy. I just don't feel any engagement with this conversation and I don't want to be a dick and tell you that, but if you gently tell me it's ok to talk one more time I'm gonna start biting."

(It got better as I got older bc I learned that if you're quiet but making active eye contact instead of staring off into other directions - not to avoid attention but because you're just thinking of other shit - people will stop labeling you as shy and instead say "intimidating" or "mysterious" which is also hilarious when what you're thinking about is "machine herald big naturals lmao" but it's better than being labeled "shy")

[watarfallar]

Merry Christmas eve! I bring presents

Grian: Can you PLEASE peer pressure me into doing my project? Scar: Do it or you're straight. Grian: I said peer pressure, NOT THREATEN!

Grian: Damn, the power went out. Scar: Don’t worry, I got this. Scar: shakes rapidly and starts to light up Grian: What-? Scar: I swallowed a glow stick! Grian, on the verge of tears: WHY WOULD YOU-

Scar: Don’t worry, I know exactly what I’m doing. Everything is going to be fine! Grian: How can you still say that? Scar: Because sometimes, when things get tough, denial is all we have.

Grian: When was the last time you cried? Scar: Uh 15 minutes ago, why?? Grian: really? That recent? Scar: Yeah voice crack is that a issue? starts crying again

Grian: I am so cool. I am an absolute Chad. I am the epitome of coolness and awesomeness— Scar: Hi. Grian: melts down in a flustered heap of softness

Grian: Look at me straight in the eyes and tell me the truth, Scar! Scar: You can’t expect me to look into your eyes and be straight.

Scar: I want to be with you for the rest of my life. Grian: Damn, that sounds like a marriage proposal. Scar, getting down on one knee: That's 'cause it is.

Grian: Is five a lot of followers? Scar: Depends on the context. Scar: On Instagram? No, not a lot of followers. Scar: In a dark alley? Yes, a lot of followers.

Scar, confused and exasperated: Grian, how do you plan on telling a bear to go vegan? Grian: Politely.

Scar: That's it, I'm cutting off the internet! Grian: No, please don't! I have a family to feed! Scar: Scar: What? Grian: I need to feed my Neopets!

Scar: Do you want to know your gay name? Grian: My… my gay name? Scar: Yeah, it's your first name- Grian: Haha. Very funny Scar- Scar: gets down on one knee And my last name. Grian: Oh- oh my god.

Grian: Hey guys, I’m making french toast sticks in the oven. I’m gonna take a quick nap, so wake me up in 5 minutes to flip them over. 5 minutes later Scar: Grian it’s been 5 minutes, time to flip your sticks. Grian: snnnzzzz… Scar: GRIAN YOUR STICKS!

Grian: Look, Scar, if you can fit your head down the gun’s barrel, you can assume it doesn’t have a non-lethal setting.

Scar, cowering in fear: What do you want from me?! Grian, standing in front of Scar: bites into the whole KitKat bar like a heathen Scar, crying: Please…stop…

Grian, at Scar: Of course you have blood all over you, and pronouns.

Scar: A banker? Me? Grian: Yes, Scar. Scar: But I don’t know anything about running a bank! Grian: Good. No preconceived ideas. Scar: I’ve robbed banks! Grian: Capital! Just reverse your thinking. The money should be on the inside.

Grian: Smart is attractive. Educate me on something I don't know! Scar: The mouth of a jellyfish is also an anus. Grian: Stop.

Cop: What are your names? Grian: Don't tell them, Scar. Cop, writing: Scar… Grian: Crap. Scar: Nice going, Grian. Cop: Scar: Uh oh.

Grian: Give me everything you’ve got! Scar: All your friends secretly hate you. Grian: Wait, what? Scar: I’ve got anxiety.

Scar: The saying “it is better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission” no longer applies to Grian.

Scar: COMPANY IS COMING! I WANT THIS PLACE LOOKING LIKE DISNEY ON ICE IN ONE MINUTE! Scar: GRIAN IF YOU HAVEN'T MADE YOUR BED THROW IT AWAY IT'S TOO LATE TO MAKE IT NOW! Scar: GET RID OF THE COUCHES, WE CAN'T LET PEOPLE KNOW WE S I T !

Scar is cleaning the house and they find an empty bottle of orange juice Scar: Clear orange juice? Scar: Oh, it's empty. Grian, who has been watching the entire time: I live with an idiot. I live with an idiot. I live with an idiot.

Grian: So we're gathered here today for a very special reason and I think you'll all agree with me here. Grian: And if you don't well then fuck you. Grian: I'm looking at you, Scar, you jealous mop.

Scar: Hey, wanna hear a funny joke? Grian: I only like dark humor. Scar, turning the lights off: What do you call a fake noodle? Grian: Scar: An IMPASTA!

Scar: Do you know the best way to respond to disagreement? Grian: With tears? Scar: No. Grian: tears up

[sleepyskeleton-0]

SPOILERS FOR STH 3!!!

Scene analysis (heavily focused on Knuckles).

So there’s this scene in Sonic 3 in London where Sonic decides that despite their initial intentions to never use the master emerald anymore, he insists on using it for vengeance (after Shadow hurts Tom).

In this scene Sonic and Knuckles stand head to head and get worked up to the point where they’re charging up their powers, (Tails in kinda in the middle trying to calm them both down).

I got emotional in this scene, like full on tears in my eyes for a split second. Let me tell you why:

This is the scene that shows Knuckles’ endless patience for Sonic and Tails.

We know as an audience that Knux is always eager to go into battle, perhaps even too eager, but when it comes to his siblings, he’s always patient. So when Sonic tries to start a fight with him, he gets riled up at first but then takes a moment to calm himself down.

He refrains from hurting his brother and instead tries to talk to him calmly, to reason with him.

And if that’s not an oldest sibling strait I honestly don’t know what is.

I don’t think some people realise how hard it is to stay calm when your younger siblings are angering you. Like not teasing but properly pissing you off, especially if your sibling is a younger teenager (think 11-14 or 15).

At some point, you as the oldest have to realise that you have to be the calm one because naturally, teens are hormonal as shit and they can’t really help it (sometimes). We’ve all been there and we all know what it feels like to get wound up easily as a kid, and as an oldest child, you didn’t have someone who would calmly deal with you. Your parents would just get angry or chalk it up to a phase, so it’s either too much discipline or none at all for their first kid, then leave them to deal with the others when they grow up (obviously this isn’t the case with the trio here bc they were all taken in as teens so it’s different - the attention Tom and Maggie would’ve shown to them as babies and children are being shown now that they’re actually a family).

So shout out to all my oldest siblings out there, including Knuckles, because it’s like constantly taking punches to the face and actively remaining steady on your feet without letting your anger get the best of you.

This especially goes for a traumatic or high anxiety situation, like Tom’s injury. Sonic’s love for him and his worry and regret is consuming him in this moment and throwing him into a blind rage. Tails is also really worried, and as the youngest, it goes without saying that you try to cushion any pain as much as possible, so he’s not gonna be expected to help. Who’s left then? To help deal with Sonic? Knuckles.

He realises Sonic’s having a hard time, knows what it feels like to lose loved ones, understands the worry of “will they return home?” and how the reality of the situation can hit at any moment and how crippling it can be.

So Knuckles swallows his pride and tries to reason with Sonic.

And it’s really fucking hard to do that. Especially when being put in this position.

This rant feels repetitive but I have to get it out there just how hard it is to do this. At the end of the day, even if we are the oldest sibling, even if we have an obligation to be the bigger person, we still have feelings. All this emotional burden is gonna build up. It’s not anyone’s fault, it’s just the position we were born in. It’s our job to be that pillar of strength for our younger siblings, but if you keep throwing small stones at a pillar, eventually it’ll start to chip and crumble. So to have the strength to remain steady is the real superpower.

Like holy shit, talk about dual burden. Knux is also feeling the pain of potentially losing Tom, but he’s still there to comfort and protect his family and also shoulder his own difficult emotions. Because no one was there to do that for him when he needed it the most. He may never have anyone to protect him quite like that, and an older sibling will protect their younger ones even if it means making sacrifices. Remember that parents don’t have the same effect as siblings. Adults can only have so much understanding, but growth moves with the times, and each coming generation develops in unique ways, so grown ups will never grasp the full extent of the younger generation’s struggles, just as us younger people will never understand what they went through and how they dealt with it.

So props to Knuckles, he really is 1000000% muscle, and his most important muscles, his heart and brain, work together incredibly well. He doesn’t have to be book smart, his emotional intelligence makes up for that.

(Disclaimer: this is just my interpretation so just take it with a grain of salt, also sorry for this utterly incoherent rant, I have feelings about this movie- and this silly little echidna.)

[pissterdaniel]

TIT AUCKLAND FINAL RECAP

the spoilery stuff is at the bottom of the post, the rest is safe

Since June there has been a discord server going for everyone at the Auckland show. It was amazing to make so many friends before even going to the show. We all got to know each other in the months leading up to the event. Super cool!

We all met up for lunch before the show to hang out and exchanged our crafts. (craft haul x) It made me so happy to see people excited to meet Carlos and my dolls :).

@peter-must-die with his amazing shirt holding Carlos

We made our way to the KTK theater, and I bought some merch. Literally shouted when I opened my photocards to see BLONDE QUIFF PHIL!!!!!! :O

I came PREPARED for my meet and greet, had an agenda broken down into 3 steps. I had been overthinking this for months and have lost so much sleep from tit anxiety. The plan was very helpful! I was revising it in the line.

My hands were totally full. Sister Daniel kept on escaping my grip, we think she was trying to run away. I also recall repeatedly doing my Christophe Giacometti (from yuri on ice) impression in the line.

In the meet and greet line I discovered that I randomly have a lot of upper body strength 😅. I was giving out VERYYY tight deep pressure hugs to people who wanted them. It was very calming. I also got a stopwatch out and we did some 4/4/8 breathing. Then our time was almost up, and WE COULD SEE DAN.

I filmed Max's meet and greet for them first. So that was good getting to spend a minute or so in front of Dan and Phil before it was my turn. I had briefed Max on my agenda, so they knew exactly what to do. My full meet and greet post with photos and the video are here (x). THANK YOU SO MUCH @shitwheresfoxy FOR BEING THE BEST GLAMOUROUS ASSISTANT EVER!

Phil did not seem like a human. I stupidly told him he was like an animatronic robot. He is just SO BEAUTIFUL IT DOESNT SEEM REAL. You need to understand, PHIL LESTER IS SO ETHERALLY GORGEOUS IT IS OUT OF THIS WORLD!!!!!!!! He's just so 🥰. No wonder Dan can't stop looking at him like that in the videos. I get it now.

Dan definitely led my m&g, and I've heard others say this too. He does most of the talking, offers to take the photos, and he had the biggest reactions to things. I made him cackle a few times and I will wear that like a badge of honour. Some other highlights include:

Dan's first reaction to Carlos "uhh.. what?"

Dan's crab hands in our selfie

Dan talking to my camera whilst I fetched something from Max

Their first reaction to my dolls

Phil waving and saying bye to me

BONUS 1 MINUTE AND 39 MINUTE VIDEO OF PHIL HOLDING CARLOS, THIS MEANS THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE TO ME

I am slightly embarrassed about how excited I got, I went a bit nuts. Told them Carlos was "the love of my life" 🤦. Was completely hyper after the m&g, had major zoomies and couldn't calm down. That's when we caught up with the silver VIP people from the server.

@totally-srs-all-the-time made this STUNNING bedsheet cape and wanted to put it on me to have mega bed sheet titfit. Only when she held it up to me, I thought she was wanting to use it as a weighted blanket to calm me. So I lay on the floor 😂, she still put it on me and got this pic.

Met the phiwi backpack too!!!

I recorded our preshow and put it on youtube (x). Can't believe Olly's figure skating question was answered! That was wickedly cool. There is a very small group of us who got SUPER into ice skating these past couple of months. So to have our niche acknowledged by Dan himself was PHENOMENAL.

We all danced to HOTOGO, @einsteinfrizz 's amazing video from the balcony can be found here (x)

And then it was time for the show.

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!!!

I took notes during intermission and after the show of what I remembered.

Our conspiracies were:

Toilet, Clothes, Bus, and Vegas

"They share clothes." Went on about how their nipples touch the same cloth and did weird nipply gestures.

Lawyer Dan banned Australia, wrote erotic fanfiction about Gollum, and went to jail for killing phil. (Phil then said "hopefully he was not a CEO" and everyone CHEERED SO LOUDLY FOR AGES. They were both caught off guard by the big audience reaction, and it seemed like Dan was genuinely surprised/shocked that Phil said that.

Linguist Phil's favourite word was 'perky nana', he liked to help old ladies cum, and had a secret collection of lesbians.

Phil's 1 minute improv was on stationary. He thought the person said penis, but he changed it to pens, and then decided to change it to stationary. He told a story of how he had a cola scented gel pen and would fill in an entire page and just sniff it.

Early on in the show Phil thought he swallowed a fly and started choking. He then yelled for a "minion" to fetch him water. Dan was taken back by this and it was about a minute before a crew member walked on with his water bottle.

(I'm sensing this show is a lot of Phil saying off-script random shit and dan being shocked by him. Which honestly checks out.)

"Jesus but more shippable" IM SORRY WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY DAN

Phil said reject modernity embrace tradition correctly.

They still think the phanniversary was "last month."

Everyone yelling "gay" together in unison was so healing.

Phil messed up the song lyric again and said "I got the tattoo" instead of "you"

SISTER DANIEL HOLY FUCK WHERE DO I BEGIN. I was in the 4th row on the left side which is where she stood. I knew all the spoilers going into it BUT NOTHING COULD HAVE PREPARED ME. I screamed at the top of my lungs when I first saw her come out. I AM SO THANKFUL FOR THE PRIVILEGE OF GETTING TO SEE HER IN PERSON I WILL NEVER TAKE THAT FOR GRANTED. She is so AAAH. Religious, eye-opening experiences were certainly had. AND SHE WAS IN DOC MARTENS. I'm never gonna be able to put into words how feral she made me.

I would say that I was very familiar with the show content before I got there. But in reality, everything was 100x weirder than I thought it would be. I mean that in the best way possible!!! Dnp were OFF. THE. RAILS. They were still the same people you see in the videos, but uncut and UNLEASHED.

AND THEN THERE WAS THE FACT THAT I WENT HOME WITH AN ACTUAL PROP?!?!?!

At the end of the show, I rushed to the front of the stage to steal the confetti. (I'm a hoe for collecting show confetti, I did the same thing at WAD).

Whilst I was collecting confetti and taking pics of Carlos, one of the stagehands came out a few times, handing out the Australian props to random people standing at the stage.

THIS IS THE GREATEST THING THAT HAS EVER HAPPENED TO ME!!! Here are some close-up photos I took of Obi Wan, and a video of what he can do (x). I walked into TIT with a Sister Daniel and Father Philip doll, and I came out of TIT with Phobi Phan Phenobi.

I also got one of the role model or no-le model cards, it is blank on the other side apart from their signature.

I also got to get up and close with other people's props. I even got to play Max's ukulele. I played the TIT song and I can tell you first hand that that thing was VERY out of tune. I know Dan was only fake playing it, but at least tune it first 😂.

The day after, a big group of us went to Auckland Zoo! Man that was a lot of fun. We signed TABINOFs, and I got a bunchhhh of pics of Phobi Wan, my photo dump is here (x). @spanielt0wel also got a doll, so I made sure to get some photos with them together.

The post-tit depression is REALLLLLL. I miss being surrounded by like minded people. It was so easy to unmask and just be completely myself. I have never felt more like me than when I was surrounded by all the queer, neurodivergent phannies. This was the happiest I've felt in years. So thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone who came to talk to me, and to all the friends I've made through the discord 💙.

Now I am back home and terrible influencing up my room cause I never want to forget this amazing experience.

The box frame was inspired by this one

The posters I got signed are looking GOOOOOD. Also Phobi Wan looks so silly sitting with my monster high dolls. I'm gonna treasure him forever. HE MAKES ME SO HAPPY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Also thank you to everyone who voted on my poll you've convinced me that #4 is the way to go and I shall be ordering that flag soon.

THANK YOU TIT AUCKLAND

[olderthannetfic]

TW Suicide. I talk about suicide from a religious perspective, and religion is not kind with suicide.

I might be reaching but I think religious Asian countries might be more proship-friendly than western countries??

Let's see a few cases. Japan. I'm not sure how religious Japan is, but they have very strict values and traditions. There are so many how-tos and even the language has levels that you can only use to certain people, otherwise it's rude. They can't express queerness so freely that yaoi/yuri is the best outlet they have, and they got called rotten for it.

Japan is notorious for being very proship friendly. There was even a huge "what is proship and why should you block those with 'proship DNI' in their bios" thread over on Twitter and it was so widely shared by Japanese users. At that point, even antis took off the "proship DNI" off their bios (such cowards lol).

The people in my religious (Muslim) country and its neighbor, Malaysia and Indonesia, even the minors, are so proship-oriented that I only ever saw exactly one person with "proship DNI" in their bio. And their posts tell me they're the more "liberal" people of the country. You know, the ones that the older people are using as examples of "Look at that girl. She's been poisoned by the western values, she's showing so much skin. Don't be like her". Now I obviously will just laugh at older people who says such things but hear me out.

The people who are actually practicing religion to the point where nothing sexual is allowed, who WILL screech at sex (both vanilla and kinky) in fanworks should they ever join, won't touch fandom with a ten-foot pole. This leaves us with the absolute freaks who thinks "I'm religious, I believe in God that other people call fiction, but I can't have sex until I'm married and masturbation is haram, so smut fic is actually a great way to let off tension! No one real is having sex so it's a green area. I'm not masturbating, I'm just reading. Sometimes they excite me, most of the time not! Halal mode."

Also, murder and suicide is a sin. A huge sin. If you tell someone to kill themselves and they actually did, the religious guilt would be MASSIVE. I can't imagine an actually correctly-practicing religious sending death threats and not be haunted by the promise of a sin. A sin that involves other people is much harder to forgive (it requires forgiveness from the hurt people, and that's impossible with suicide. They can't forgive you if they're dead) than a sin that involves yourself (masturbation. All you have to do is regret and never do it again. Which is why suicide is seen as unforgiveable. You can't undo it).

So, it sometimes makes me wonder that in the west, MAGA catholic conservatives shares a lot of values with fanpols. But in religious countries, the actually rigid religious ones aren't in fandom, so the fandom is filled with people who aren't evangelical purists.

This incoherent yap might be reaching, but hey, a new perspective to US-Europeans or non-religious people. It's just kinda funny to think about. Since you are very well-spoken and critical (I think so from your replies to the asks!), what do you think?

--

Well... I think there are a lot of specifics here that are hilarious in how you've framed them. (The situation with queer people in Japan has evolved a lot over the last couple of decades. That isn't at all how I'd describe politeness levels in language, and I think your assumptions based on how politeness works in Japanese are ludicrous. Catholicism isn't the big, powerful flavor of Christianity in the US, so it's not where the majority of the nutbars ruining politics come from. Etc. Etc.)

But back in the 90s in US fandom in English, slash was the domain of freaks, and the puritywankers were openly homophobic and did not hang out in the same spaces.

Yes, I do think that part of the rise of the current flavor of antis has to do with somewhat wider acceptance of queerness combined with an overall anxiety-inducing and uncertain situation. They're not secure enough to chill the fuck out, but they wrongly believe that our battles for queer rights here are done and/or that they can be won by throwing the freakier members of the community under the bus.

[thepenultimateword]

The Un-Gingerbread || Secret Santa 2024

I participated in the Secret Santa writing event again this year! This snippet is for @gingerly-writing! I hope you enjoy! I know you said I could choose just one topic buuuut I ended up kinda combining them all together!

magical girl powers (especially for villains)

something cute and Christmassy turned deadly/bad (Christmas card full of blackmail, evil snow powers, etc)

super niche/useless superpower saves the day

“They’re Christmas cookies,” Hero said blandly.

“They’re suspicious.” Villain tapped the edge of the platter with the tip of their snowflake wand. Little swirls of frost spread over the surface of the plastic wrap, clouding over the little gingerbread faces.

“Some caroler or neighbor or someone trying to be spread Christmas cheer casually left a plate on your doorstep. End of story.”

Hero had never been the imaginative type. It was a little annoying actually: the power of disbelief. One of the only things that had ever rendered Villain powerless. It didn’t always work, especially now that Hero had seen Villain’s work up close so often, but when Hero got thinking too much about the laws of gravity, the improbability of a transformation sequence, the energy mechanics of magic, Villain found themselves dropping like a stone. 

In those moment they just had to hope Hero was close enough to catch them–practically a guarantee–and empathetic enough not say a word to anyone else. …Less likely.

Villain tucked the wand into a reality pocket–Hero was nice enough not mess with that one today-and swished their capelet around them as they turned toward the fridge. The next thing they knew, they were pouring a glass of milk just so they could look away. The hero’s dry gaze already felt like a drain on their powers without this extra dose of exasperation. 

“Look at the clothes,” they said.

Hero raised an eyebrow, but began to peel up the first layer of plastic wrap.

“Don’t unwrap them!” Villain cried, then as Hero’s eyebrow did a higher, more quizzical leap into their hair, “We don’t know what’s in them.”

“I don’t think this shoddy wrap job is keeping in any dangerous toxins,” Hero said.

Villain stomped a heeled shoe. “Don’t say such dangerous things out loud!”

“For that to work the cookies would have to actually be toxic. Which they aren’t.” Hero’s eyes flicked up and down before returning to the cookie plate and the unwrapping process. “Did you seriously do a complete transformation over this?”

Villain warmed a little. They didn’t make a habit of inviting heroes to their apartment, but something about this had shaken them. Something about those sugar pearl eyes peering up at them had felt…wrong. Though they’d claimed, even internally, that Hero was simply the first name to pop into their head, maybe…maybe they’d chosen them on purpose. Maybe they’d wanted a bit of logic to asway their anxiety. To tell them everything was truly alright.

“I’m just being prepared,” Villain said, then nodded at the plate.

The gingerbreadpeople were dressed like them. Not the comfortable, baggy outfits they wore as a civilian but their magical version–silver pompadour shoes with a snowflake sprinkles for the buckles, long icy blue tailcoat and capelet with a carefully iced imitation of the frost pattern emroidery, and whipped ruffles—so many ruffles, in the cravat, in the white undershirt, in the peeking cuffs of the sleeves; the Ginger-Villains even held their wand, complete with silver edible glitter so the snowflake head sparkled in the light.

“Coincidence.”

“Coinci– Hero! That’s me!”

“Yes, and half the city is convinced you’re some sort of ice fairy.” Villain could hear the eyeroll in their tone. “This isn’t the first cookie I’ve seen with your face on it.”

“But they are the first to show up at my door.”

Hero let out an enormous sigh. “Ok, honestly? Yes, it’s weird. Yes, it’s creepy. But I just don’t believe anyone could have figured out who you are let alone where you live. You’re ok. Throw them away if you’re so worried.”

Villain folded their arms poutily. “I’m sure that’s exactly what the sender wants me to do. One moment I’m dumping cookies, the next I have giant radioactive rats breaking down my door.”

They swished their cape again, more dramatically this time, making the full breadth of their displeasure known. 

Hero sighed again. They did that so much it was a wonder they had any breath left.

“Do you want me to take them?”

Villain blinked. “Really?”

“You’re just going keep calling me otherwise, right? And I have no worries about throwing them away in my trash.”

Villain picked up the platter hesitantly. “I wouldn’t want you to get hurt on my behalf…”

“I know it’s Christmas but quit with the fluff. Hand them over.”

Hero thrust out their hand, waving their fingers impatiently. 

Well, if Hero really wanted the creepy cookies, who was Villain to stop them. They were a grown, capable adult who knew how to take care of themselves, and they were enemies anyways, so Villain didn’t need to feel guilty at all if–

Villain’s thoughts stopped short, plate half extended. The platter trembled a little in their fist.

“Are you really so freaked out that you’re shaking?” Hero said.

“I-I’m not.”

Something on the platter was moving. 

As the first Ginger-Villain rose to its feet, all Villain and Hero could do was stare. 

When the second one popped up, Villain threw the platter across the room.

The decorative plastic cracked against the wall, and about two dozen cookies scattered every direction.

The wall clock ticked a second of peace, and then the cookies were back up, faces smudges, bodies cracked, or a gory scene of cookie arms and legs and sugar pearl eyes littering the tile.

One cookie who was lucky enough to escape the throw with no more damage than a lost eye and a smeared tailcoat waddled determinedly forward while several others limped or dragged themselves behind.

Villain cursed. "What is happening?"

"It's not real. it's not real. it's not real," Hero muttered like a ritual beside them. But the cookies were real. And whatever disbelief Hero had been suspending was broken.

Fine. If Hero was going to be useless... Villain reached into the air and yanked their wand out of its pocket and back into reality.

They flicked the wand once, sending a pale coating of slick ice over the living cookies, stiffening their limbs and freezing them to the spot.

"There," Villain said, letting out a slow exhale. "Now I think we should burn--"

Crack.

Crick, crack.

Crick, crack, crackle, crack.

Steam wafted up from each cookie, and as they pressed forward, little fissures spread up the weakened ice-coating.

"Are they...getting hotter?" Villain said.

The embroidery detailing and facial features dripped down the cookie's bodies as they moved pooling in little sweet puddles at their feet. A few cookies picked up the nearby limbs and melded them into the now soft stumps.

"That shouldn't be as disturbing as it is," Hero muttered.

"Ok, I was going easy on you all because you're made of flour," Villain said, "but why don't you try escaping this?"

Villain swished their wand in a circle, this time encapuslating the cookies in a large, solid ball of ice.

Crack.

Villain conjured another layer.

Crick, crack.

Another.

Crack. Crack. Crack.

Another.

The ice ball grew and grew, but for every layer of ice Villain threw up, the cracking only seemed to quicken.

Great billowing clouds of steam filled the room, obscuring the ice prison from view and Villain backed warily toward the living room, grabbing Hero's arm as they went.

There was one final crack; ice shot around the room like shattered glass and a wave of chilly water washed across the floor, seeping through the seams of their shoes.

As the cookies had heated in their prison, they'd mushed together, replacing two dozen zombieish Ginger-Villains with one enormous, thoroughly burnt Ginger-Creature. One beady sugar pearl stared down at them from the gooey burnt icing face.

"Hero, do something!" Villain shouted, digging their nails into the hero's arm.

Hero paused their muttered chant long enough to roar, "I'm trying!"

"What, a walking cookie is too realistic for you?"

"It reminds me of a horror movie! It's hard to disbelieve in things that have that sort of hold in my mind!"

The Ginger-Creature stepped toward them.

Villain waved their wand toward the pool of water on the floor, freezing it into a slick sheet. Unfortunately, they hadn't thought about their own half-submerged feet. As they attempted another step back, they found their blocky heels frozen to the floor.

The creature slipped a little with its next step, but ultimately its heating power left indents in the ice wherever its giant feet moved.

Villain lurched back, but the attempt was fruitless.

"Take off your shoes!" Hero cried, already in their socks and crouching down at Villain's feet and fumbling with the intricate snowflake buckles.

"They're magic shoes," Villain choked. "They don't come off."

"Then detransform! Do something! It's coming!"

Villain grabbed Hero by either side of their face, forcing them to look up at them.

"Hero, I need you're annoying, unimaginative, logical brain to start asking the big questions right now."

Hero stared at them wide-eyed. "I...I..."

"Come on! You always think of something aggravating! Like...how can this cookie see us when its eye is just sugar? How does the light pass through? And even if it does, how is that light processed? Does it have a cookie brain? That doesn't make any sense."

"How can it heat itself?" Hero said, voice a little trembly. "Nothing in gingerbread can conduce its own heat."

"Yeah, and why did the cookies have heat powers anyway when they were supposed to be copies of me?"

"How did it know how to shape itself? It's messed up, but it's still sort of a person. Do all the cookies have a sense of humanity? Do they have separate thoughts? Or are they one cookie hivemind?"

The smell of burnt sugar and ginger was suffocating now. Villain could feel the heat wafting off it as it's burnt foot came into view a mere couple of feet away.

Hero spread their arms out in front of Villain and looked up into the towering cookie's face. “You're not real.”

The gingerbread froze in place. It's entire body shuddered, and then abruptly it crumbled into a pile of blackened cookie dust. The sugar pearl rolled across the floor and into Villain's knee.

They both stared in silence.

Then Villain laughed.

They couldn’t help it. Emotional response maybe. They just laughed and laughed and went weak against Hero's side, grasping for balance around their waist. Hero hugged them with one arm around the head. Villain wasn't sure if they even knew they were doing it, or if the simply needed as much support after that conclusion as Villain did.

"I did it," Hero gasped.

"You did it!" Villain said giddily. "You're so boring, you fantastic stick in the mud you!"

Villain picked up the sugar pearl, rolling it between their thumb and forefinger a couple times, before popping it triumphantly in their mouth. As soon, as the sweetness hit their tongue, words sprang across their mind unprompted.

Merry Christmas, Villain. I'm sorry you didn't like my treat. My next one will be better.

[castillon02]

“You ‘have amnesia,’” Dr. Sharma repeated, her eyebrows arched. 

“Oh yes,” Q said. He cheerfully waved his hand at his bandaged head. “Mugged this morning. Terribly traumatic. Physically, not mentally, since I don’t remember any of it, of course.” 

Dr. Sharma’s eye twitched. “I see.” Over the past year of therapy, she had grown inured to Q’s shite, but this was perhaps a new level of it for her. “Amnesia,” she repeated. 

Q beamed. “Judging by the dark circles under my eyes, this seems like a bit of an opportunity for a fresh start anyway,” he said. “Past me looks overworked.” 

Dr. Sharma had been trying to get him a holiday for the past four months. Her “I see,” every time M had denied his request for leave had become steadily sharper. Now her eyes gleamed. “Amnesia,” she said, smiling wider than Q had ever seen. 

(Also on AO3)

—

“Amnesia,” M said, squinting at him from behind his desk. “Really, Q?” 

“M,” Q replied, tasting the name as if he’d just learned it. “Seems a bit funny to work for a letter, but I suppose my past self had his reasons.” He leaned back in his chair and cast his eyes around the room as if those reasons might be visible if he looked for them. 

M’s hand twitched toward the security button on his desk lamp. “You answer to the letter Q,” he pointed out. “You clearly remember some things.” 

“The name Q has silent vowels,” Q said, straight-faced. “Q-U-E-U-E. A long line in A&E is the first thing I remember experiencing, so it seemed fitting. You know, waiting for something that never seems to come gives you a lot of time to think.” 

M glared. “If this is about your leave—” 

“I am leaving, yes,” Q interrupted. “I even have the paperwork filed for Queue Smith, since apparently you lot do that here.” He quirked his eyebrows. “You still haven’t told me what I do, exactly, but I assume it’s some form of tech support, not anything crucial. Something other people have been trained in.” Like Q had been training R and X for the past six months, for instance. Specifically to deal with M’s bizarre separation anxiety. 

“You are actually one of our most valuable assets,” M gritted out, clearly aware that said valuable asset was a lying liar who was lying to him at that very moment. 

Q smiled. “What a shame I can’t remember anything, then,” he said. “No value whatsoever now. In fact, Dr. Sharma distinctly said I was as useless as a pin-pricked prophylactic, and the rest of the medical department agreed with her.” 

M’s eyes narrowed and he sat a little straighter. “Dr. Simmons would never go along with this.” 

“Dr. Simmons thought the whole thing was very novel,” Q disagreed. “In fact, he said amnesia might be under-diagnosed, particularly in injured field agents being recalled for missions.” 

M frowned. “How patient-centric of him.” 

“Oh, terribly.” Straightlaced Simmons, head of Medical, didn’t always see eye to eye with Q, but they both prioritized the health of the people under their care. M wouldn’t find anyone in-house who would challenge Sharma’s diagnosis. Now for the killing blow: “Everyone says that if I’m lucky and have a nice long rest, then I might remember some things. But who knows? Amnesia is unpredictable. I could be out of the game for good.” Q gave an innocent shrug. 

“It can be dangerous, walking around ignorant in the world,” M said.

“Maybe,” Q said. “But I got mugged while I was working here with all my memories intact, so really, nowhere is safe, is it? Might as well be unsafe in the Maldives.” Q gave M his most beatific expression. It was rather cute of M to threaten him with being killed, as though Q didn’t have a dead man’s switch for exactly that contingency. 

M gave him a long look but eventually sighed. “I’ll put you on an indefinite medical leave. Don’t do something stupid with your free time.”  

Q stood. “I’ll do whatever I please. Since that is, in fact, the point of the term ‘free time.’”  

—

Q spent five days eating take-away and playing Elden Ring in his pajamas. On the sixth day, he had enough energy to move, so he took the train and then a bus to a little town in Andalusia, dreaming of egg-and-potato fry-ups and sunny olive tree-laden views. 

Warmth. Sunshine. Red roofs and white stone buildings. An outdoor cafe where he could drink his tea and people watch. 

Down the street, a wrinkled old woman stooped down to scratch a brindled dog whose whiptail flew back and forth at the attention. Q watched them until they rounded a corner out of sight. When he brought his gaze back to his own table, Bond was sitting across from him. Shite. 

“Amnesia,” Bond said. His eyes crinkled at the corners.

Q stared him down. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” If Bond asked about a mission, Q was going to send him back to R and X for replacement corneas. 

But Bond shook his head. “You can call me James. We don’t know each other outside of work,” he said. “I thought we could change that.” Bond gave him a half-smile, somehow sheepish—different from his Target Acquired smile. His bright yellow I Heart España t-shirt was more camouflage than Q had ever seen him in. 

“Caminito del Rey has beautiful vistas,” Bond added, his blue eyes locked on Q’s. “Or I know a place with good tapas if you’d rather eat than hike.” 

This might be a work-shaped trap. But there wasn’t any tech in the Gaitanes Ravine, and yellow wasn’t the color Bond wore when he went anglerfishing. Additionally, traversing a treacherous one-meter-wide walkway carved into a rock face a hundred meters above a river sounded like it was genuinely Bond’s idea of a good time. “If we went hiking,” Q said, “it wouldn’t be efficient. I take pictures of cool bugs. I lollygag to look at spiderwebs. I get distracted by rock formations.” 

“If I wanted efficient,” Bond said, “I’d wait until you ‘got your memory back.’” He offered Q a wry tilt of his mouth. “I have it on good information that you’re currently useless, and I don’t expect we’ll need any of your skills from the office.” 

Bless the medical staff’s ability to gossip. Q exhaled and slouched a little. “You’re really here just because?” he asked.  

Bond shrugged. “We’re good at being useful together. I thought we might be good at being useless together too. If you like.” He tilted his head. 

Q stood without answering. 

Bond stood with him. His designer blue jeans stretched flatteringly around his thighs. No concealed carry. His watch wasn’t one of Q’s. He had a knife in his boot, but that was sensible enough. His t-shirt showed off tan arms criss-crossed with pale scars and a smattering of graying hair. He had a red España bucket hat tucked into his belt. 

007 on holiday. 

Q smiled. “Lead the way.” He extended his hand. 

Bond took it. In the center of a rural village steeped in machismo culture, Bond held his hand. “I have a car,” he said, and they walked, still linked at the fingers, to where Bond had parked his entirely normal Mitsubishi Mirage rental. Good god; a hatchback. Not even four-wheel drive. Bond was really giving this ‘useless’ thing a genuine effort. 

If this went well, Q would have to send 006 a basket of explosives. Rather than leaving his mugging-based amnesia up to fate, he’d rather desperately arranged for a surreptitious blow to the head from one of Six’s experts in cranial violence. He hadn’t expected that his memory loss would lead to something so lovely.  

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

First Last Christmas

Word Count - 17.3k

Summary - Jack is starting to think this isn't his best idea, and Idris is starting to maybe regret her choice. Maybe agreeing so quickly to spend the holidays with her baby daddy who she broke up with 3 months isn't the best idea.

Warnings - none. just some family drama but who doesn't have family drama during the hoildays.

Author's Note: It is finally complete. Thank you for everyone who reads this AU and has been excited for this to come out. Thank you Allie for being my beta reader for a good 75 percent of this fic even though she's on vacation. 🫶🏻🫶🏻 This is the longest fic I have ever written so be kind. Consider this my Christmas present from me to you even if it's a little past midnight. 😂

Till Forever Falls Apart Masterlist

Roughly 2 weeks before Christmas…

Idris could physically feel her hand shaking as she rode up the elevator to her old condo - now known as only Jack’s and Luke’s - and it wasn’t anxiety that also made her cheeks feel flushed, it was anger. Idris was so angry with Jack that she could feel her jaw starting to hurt from how tight she clenched her teeth. She looked down at her phone to see if he thought to answer any of her messages about Christmas only to see a text from him asking her to text him when she was leaving her place with the kids. She found herself shaking her head in disbelief as she exited the elevator making the sharp right turn to walk down the hall to knock on her - she still couldn’t bring herself to think of Jack as anything other than Jack, the word ex made her stomach turn and she couldn’t call him her fiance anymore, she could say baby daddy but that only described the relation he had to their children not the impact he had on her, her heart, her life, so he was just - Jack. 

Taking a deep breath she stood in front of apartment 725, trying to make herself calm down even just a little before she faced him, she knocked heavily on the door. Jack answered almost immediately, it’s expected he was expecting her to drop the kids off to him on his day off. But the kids are still over at her little cozy apartment spending time with their Uncle Luke and Uncle Nico, because she needed time to talk to Jack about how he’s been avoiding all of her calls and texts about Christmas. 

“Hey guy-” He didn’t finish his greeting that was meant for his children and his smile dropped as his eyebrows frowned ever so slightly when he realized the kids weren’t with her. Idris isn’t sure if it was a conscious act or not, as he slightly boxed himself into the doorway more as if to not let her into his space. Even if it was a place that she decorated herself with him years ago, before Luke even joined the NHL and lived with them, before they ever even fell into their friends with benefits situation, back when Jack was just her guy best friend who she just so happened to meet due to a one night stand. Back when he was 19 and just got his first apartment and Jill was still stocking his fridge when he was due to come back from long roadies. “Where are the kids?” he sighed as he questioned her, as if he didn't have time for whatever she was planning. ‘Too bad’ Idris thought to herself, ‘Christmas is two weeks away and we have two children who believe in Santa. Time to act like an adult.’ 

“At my place with Luke and Nico. I needed to talk to you and I didn’t want listenin’ ears.” she explained, but she didn’t miss the way that Jack crossed his arms and looked annoyed. 

“So that’s why Luke was up so early this morning. Course he just had to run off to help you.” he snapped bitterly and Idris was finding it hard not to yell at him. ‘This is about the kids. Christmas. Kids. Christmas.’ she kept repeating to herself trying to get herself not to be roped into another useless fight with the man in front of her. 

“Jack, we both know he’s not doing it for me. He’s doing it because he loves his niece and nephew.” Idris tried reasoning with him. “But that’s not why I came here. Can you let me in? I really don’t want to do this in the hall.” Jack flashed an unreadable expression on his face, something unmistakingly softer than earlier, almost looking like the old Jack for a millisecond and then it was gone as quick as it came, as he stepped aside giving Idris room to step into the apartment. 

Idris couldn’t stop herself from word vomiting as she noticed that no decorations were out for Christmas, not even the children’s stockings were hung. “Where is the tree?” she asks as she slips her scarf and gloves, gently placing them in her coat pocket as she places it on the back of the chair, her heeled booties already off by the door looking like they never left beside her children’s and Jack’s array of shoes. 

“Didn’t feel like decorating.” he mumbled as he walked past her and sat down on the coach in the living room. “What do you want, Idris?” he asks as he picks back up his controller, Idris was fully prepared to scream thinking he was going to resume his game but was surprised and maybe even a little grateful when she realized he was just turning it off. 

“Well even if you don’t you “feel like it.” Zander is old enough to notice Jack.” she tries to speak softly, so it doesn’t come off as judgmental as she wants to be. Although her words still have a sharpness to them. “We need to talk about Christmas. You haven’t answered a single of the hundreds of texts I’ve sent trying to plan with you.” Idris adds, as she is reminded of the reason she came over in the first place, ‘the kids. Christmas.’ 

“Well maybe I didn’t feel like decorating this year.” he snaps, it isn’t harsh, kind of like how he snaps at the media when they repeat a question or ask something that isn’t logical, like the time they said ‘Quinn was like a brother to Jack.’ when he is in fact Jack’s older brother. But still, even if it wasn’t harsh, a little over a year ago, he would never even think to give her attitude when she’s just trying to be a good mom to their kids. “Also I liked the message Iddy. I got the toy alright.” he huffs, and it takes everything in Idris not to scream at the man sitting in front of her, manspreading, arms crossed, as if she is wasting his time.

“That’s not the point and you know it. Cool you got a toy off the internet congrats on doing the absolute bare minimum. For god sakes you haven’t even decorated Jack! Christmas is literally 2 weeks away! What the hell! I thought we agreed that the kids' happiness came first! And that includes Christmas. Do you think I wanted to decorate by my fucking self this year! No. Do you think I want to be standing here begging for you to look at me so we can talk about where our children are spending Christmas! No. I much rather be curled in bed with Luna doing nothing but here I am. Here I am! I am trying to co-parent with you! But how can I when you don’t answer any of my texts or calls trying to talk about what we're gonna do!” Idris yells, she doesn’t feel better, she feels like shit, she always does when she’s fighting with Jack, as if he is a vacuum that sucks all the energy out of her. She’s also close to tears, but Idris has always been one of those people that cry when she’s so angry she can barely think coherently. She looks at Jack from across the room and waits, waits for him to care enough to answer her. 

“I’m off for Christmas break, I thought the answer was obvious. I’m taking ‘em home to the lakehouse.” Whether it’s because Jack is speaking softly or the drumming in Idris’ ears is too loud from the anger she feels, she looks at him with disbelief. 

“What?” she breaths out. 

“Imma take ‘em home, Idris. You had them for Thanksgiving. It’s only fair I have them for Christmas.” Jack is standing now as if he’s preparing for a fight with her, but she can’t bring herself to fight, her body is in shock. Jack might have been an asshole and maybe that’s why she left, but he was never cruel and taking her children away from her on Christmas was cruel. 

“I took them to Ann Arbour for the long weekend to spend time with my family. I drove to the lakehouse 2 ½ hours away both ways so they could see their Uncle Quinn, your brother Jack. Then not even 30 hours later, I made the drive again so they could see you and Luke on Sunday. And spend time with you on the day you were free from hockey. Then I drove home alone” her voice cracked, she wished it hadn’t but it did and a dam of tears started streaming down her face like a hurricane banging on a screen door in the summer night. Suddenly Jack’s stomach started to hurt and his socks looked much more interesting than Iddy’s face.  “I drove home alone. Crying because of you! Because your words you had with me about not being there sooner with them! About how I was trying to ruin the holidays. So no.” Idris took a deep breath using her hands to speak as she made air quotes as she spoke “ I didn’t ‘get them for thanksgiving’ I shared them with you, and your family even if you weren’t there. I tried to be fair, and mind you I did it without talking to you because you refused to just like you are now. I know that you hate me for leaving, and I can live with that. But what I can’t live with is battling against me every goddamn fucking day because you’re not adult enough to have a fucking conversation about what’s best the kids. Because you know who you’re hurting when you do that Jack?” she asks him and Jack glances up from his feet feeling like he’s being scolded by his mother, deciding that it was probably a rhetorical question. “You might think it’s me, but it’s our kids. Zander doesn't understand why his mama and daddy live apart now. Zola who adores her father and who still is her favorite person, and she might be little but she isn’t stupid, she can feel the tension when we’re in the same room. If you want to spend your Christmas break at home fine but I am not spending Christmas without my kids.” Idris’ feels a migraine starting to brew with the amount of stress she is having, as she glances at the family room clock and realizes she’s been here for 10 minutes and nothing productive has been done. She runs her hands through her hair, its shorter now since she cut it, shaking it out and pulling at it,  as if pulling on her scalp will lessen the stress.

“So you wanna stay here?” the confusion is clear in his voice, she doesn’t have to look at him to know that. 

“No.” She exhales, looking up making eye-contact with him, his blue eyes boring into hers, it doesn’t matter the history when he looks at her at that all dumbfounded and confused like only she can bring him out of it, it makes her knees go weak. “We’re always home for Christmas. It’s just harder now.” 

“Because you left.” He mumbles to himself. 

“Actually not what I was thinking, more like Zander believes in Santa and all gifts for everyone and the kids have been shipped here. And how are we gonna get all the kids gifts in 2 checked bags, plus their strollers, and diapers and everything else they need for traveling. Let alone the fact we have Apollo and Luna now, and checking them into the animal hotel was fine for Thanksgiving but the kiddos missed them and cried about it all week.” 

The more Idris talks, the more it’s obvious how much thought she has actually put into this, and Jack feels guilty for causing her so much anxiety knowing that if he just wasn’t so stubborn they could have figured this out around Thanksgiving and not waited till 2 weeks before. Plus, if Jack was being honest with himself, he would have procrastinated even longer having this conversation with Iddy if she didn’t just show up on his doorstep and force him to talk. He was still so mad at her for leaving, he knew they were in a bad place, but he didn’t know it was that bad. Idris settles on the couch opposite of Jack and puts her hands on her head, leaning forward resting her elbows on her knees and Jack flinches; she only does that when she’s starting to get a migraine which she only gets because of stress. Stress that Jack caused and that doesn’t sit right with him. 

Jack's mouth slightly twitches, his palms getting slightly sweaty as he squeezes his knees with them and fights internally with himself. If this was even 10 weeks ago, he would walk over to her and hold her and tell her everything was gonna be okay. But that was before, and even though he knew he was only lying to himself to make himself feel better, he hasn’t done that in almost a year, holding her when she got too stressed out. Most of the time he just blamed her for working too much, or putting herself in the position she was in. “Fuck it” he mumbles to himself as he gets up and goes in front of Iddy, sitting on his knees as softly calls her name grabbing her hands as they are in little balls now and he knows she’s using her nails to put pressure on them, sighing when he sees all the little bright red  half moon imprints. “Idz.” he whispers, a nickname only he uses, he hasn’t used it in months but he hopes it helps bring her out of her head and back to him.

 “Idz, I’m sorry,” he speaks softly, and he grins when she finally looks at him. “You’re right I haven’t been good at communicating when it comes to the kids and it is selfish of me. And I knew it was stressing you out and I didn’t care. I’m sorry Idz.” His hand twitched in hers, he wanted to bring her palms up to his lips and softly kiss each mark she inflicted on herself but he didn’t wanna push it. She was letting him hold her hand, after he was a dick for weeks to her, simply for choosing herself. He settled on rubbing small circles with his thumbs into her hands. “Comeon’ Idz let’s look at a calendar ya?” He asks he still won’t speak above a whisper, he doesn’t want to shout anymore, he’s tired and he wants to finish planning so he can go pick up his kids and play with them before he has to drop them back off at Iddys because he has a 6 am morning skate time tomorrow due to being a game day. 

“Why that still doesn’t answer the question of where?” She squeaks out, and his heart hurts that she doesn’t get that they can go to Michigan and be home. 

“Iddy we’ve always gone home and that doesn’t have to change okay? I’ll drive up with all the presents if I have to alright?” 

“What about Apollo and Luna, you know she doesn’t like car rides or the plane but I don’t wanna leave her.” Jack resists the urge to take his thumb and pull at her bottom lip she’s chewing on, he hates when she chews on her lip as cute as it might look, because she never stops until it chewed raw, usually bleeding. 

“We can take Luna to the vet to get medicine to help with the car ride alright? And I can take them in the car. okay?” He’s not really asking if he can take them more if she has any questions about his plan so far. 

“Okay but where in Michigan.” 

“At home Idz.” He doesn’t have to say it, she knows there are only two places he calls home in Michigan, his moms and dads house he spent a few teenage years in, and the lakehouse he owned with Quinn. They have always hosted Christmas at the lakehouse for as long as they’ve owned it. 

“That doesn’t answer where I will stay? I don’t want to be away from the kids when they wake up on Christmas Day. This is the first year Zander is starting to understand the concept of Santa, I don’t wanna miss his face when he sees all the presents under the tree and all the cookies he laid out gone.” 

Jack chuckles, not because of her reasoning but because he can see Zander screaming his head off Christmas morning. It takes everything in him not to let his pet name for her slip, his heart aches, its moments like this he wishes they were still together, but if they were together they wouldn’t be debating where to spend Christmas. “You can stay at the house, Iddy, it’s as much yours as it is mine or Quinn’s. I mean you were there when we picked it out, there when we signed for it, definitely was the one in charge of furnishing it.” 

She made a face as she asked “isn’t that weird?” 

“Who cares if it’s weird? When have we ever been normal?” he chuckles trying to break the tension that was still left in the air. 

“What most people don’t have two kids with a one night stand?” Iddy asks sarcastically and they both laugh, the mood finally lightening up for the first time since she arrived. 

So it was settled Idris would be spending Christmas week at the lakehouse, she would fly in with the kids the Friday before Christmas out of Newark airport where Jack dropped them off. She will first drive to her parents and spend the night hanging out there so they can see their grandchildren they don’t see enough of. Idris and the kiddos will spend the night at her sister's little townhouse, because she didn’t think she would want to drive the 2 ½ hours to the lakehouse that late. If she was by herself she wouldn’t care, but she really tried hard to keep the kids on their routine when they were with her and that included bathed and in bed by 7. The next day they’ll drive up to the lake house where they will spend a few days alone before Jack arrives Monday night with Apollo and Luna with him. Luke and the rest of the family already decided not to arrive until Christmas Eve, Luke even brought his plane ticket already and they will spend Christmas together. It seemed simple enough, what could go wrong? At least they had a plan now. 

After talking everything out, Idris felt much better, they even talked about the kids' gifts and who was getting what, what was Santa’s and what was from them. They both agreed the kids were too little and it was too petty to separate the gifts they gave their children ‘from daddy’ or ‘from mama.’ Everything that wasn’t Santa came from them as a unit, even if they didn’t work together all that well.

“Wait.” she gasps as Jack starts to stand, but if Idris says wait he will, even if his body is in an awkward position half standing, half bent over. Jack can’t help but think that this position probably isn’t good for his shoulder since he’s putting all his weight on it. But he didn’t care, if it earned him brownie points with Idris. She softly pulled him down to the position he was before and he was grateful he didn’t have to feel the tension in his shoulder anymore. “I don’t want to get to the house 3 days before Christmas and have to decorate yet another house for Christmas.” Usually they decorated together the weekend after Thanksgiving. If they were up there, his mom would always come and help Iddy since Jack never had much time in the mist of the season. But at least that way they never had to stress over it when they were only up there for Christmas break for a few days. 

“Why don’t I ask my mom for help?” he asks, normally he would just tell her he was going to ask his mom. But now with the separation, everything felt off on its axis like he needed permission before he offered a solution. She didn’t reject it right away so Jack took it as an invitation to keep going, “she loves decorating for Christmas Idz, I’m sure her and dad can run up and put the tree together and everything before you and the kids get there.” 

“That’s a lot to ask of them.” She’s biting her lip again and Jack bites his as a response, ‘please stop baby, you're gonna make yourself bleed.’ But it’s not his place anymore to say that even if it makes him sick watching her do it and not saying anything. 

Jack sighs, he knows they wouldn’t mind, they would be happy to help. But he also knows the way Iddy grew up wasn’t the way he did, and every favor even if it was a family member came at a price to her. Jack, no matter how hard he tried over the years could never get that out of her head. “You know they would do anything for you.” He says as he looks into her eyes, grateful she’s finally making eye-contact with him. He could have said ‘for the kids’ or ‘for me’ but he knew it held more weight if he said the truth. Decorating was going to ease Iddys to-do list, not his and the kids honestly probably wouldn’t care they are still so little. But it matters to Idris for some reason to make this Christmas perfect, so he was gonna try his damn hardest to help her. She nods a ‘okay’ and Jack smiles, probably for the first time in days except after he scored a goal last night and had a celly on the ice.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Friday December 20,2024

It should be easy enough, flying with the kids by herself. Idris didn’t think it would be difficult, it’s not the first time either of them have been on a plane. She has flown with both of them with Jack plenty of times, even all the way to Vancouver once to visit Quinn. She even flew without him with the kids over Thanksgiving and that is the busiest time of year to travel. Thankfully, she didn’t have to lug too much around just enough stuff for them for night and a few winter items for the kids that she knew weren't in the lakehouse due to their fast growing bodies. It was fine in the beginning, Zander was in that phase where he loved being a helper, but it made a turn for the worse quickly. Jack had decided that he didn’t want to just drop them at the door, but help her check in, even though she had carried even more by herself less than a month ago. But she didn’t want to bicker when he was trying to be nice. Zander wanted to help so Jack let him ‘push’ one of the suitcases, really Jack was pushing it with his foot, sometimes grabbing it to steer. Zander didn’t seem to notice, focused on the task at hand, pushing the suitcase across the parking garage floor. It was cute how happy her son was at his father’s compliments. “Good job Z. Keep going buddy.” Idris was busy wearing the diaper backpack bag, holding Zola, and the carrier in her other hand that she decided she didn’t need to wear yet. She was pushing her carry-on suitcase with her hand following behind Jack who had both car seats (because all though it isn’t a rule, Idris will be damned if her kids aren’t secure 35,000 feet in the air.) 

At one point Zander got distracted by the sound of a car coming down the ramp, it was a loud high pitch sound, he never did like loud sounds, he jumped he would have hit his hand on the handle of the suitcase if Jack’s hand wasn’t there. “I scared.” Zander mumbled, as he looked up at his dad and decided to hang on to his leg. Idris could tell that he was pulling at Jack, trying to get him to open his legs more so Zander could attempt to hide himself in them. The car skeeted past them and it took everything in Jack not to yell at them for being an asshole and scaring his kid. “Daddy?” Zander whined, and it hurt him. He hated seeing his kids upset even if it was something as simple as getting spooked by a loud sound. He could hear Idris behind him, trying to calm a fussy Zola who also didn’t appreciate the unexpected noise. 

Jack squatted to the ground to be eye-level with his son, gently putting each car seat down, using his knee to keep the giant suitcase from rolling away. Zander didn’t wait to be comforted, he jumped into his arms and Jack embraced him cooing in his ear that it was alright. Idris was suddenly grateful that Jack insisted on dropping them off three hours ahead of time instead of the normal two, because they haven’t even made it out of the parking garage and they’ve been here almost 20 minutes. Zander wanted his mom to carry him once he was calm and as much as she wanted to explain she couldn’t, she didn’t. Instead she handed Zola to Jack and stripped herself of the backpack and her winter coat momentarily to put to strap her carrier on. Then she put back on her winter coat, grabbed Zola and set her inside. Then gently, bending down she put the backpack on and picked Zander up and balanced him on her hip. Jack stared at her, as if this was the hottest thing she had ever done in front of him. He knew no one else probably found it attractive, but watching Idris be a mom always made the pit of his stomach warm, at least he wasn’t sporting a semi in public due to his baby-mama he wasn’t even with he thought to himself. 

“Ready?” she breathes out. Jack knows it’s directed at her, but his throat feels dry with where his mind was going as he was watching her, so he just nods. Picking up both bulky car seats, he tries to push the carry-on suitcase with his leg which he is successful. But he can’t really steer as well as he thought he could. ‘Maybe it was good Zander was helping him’ he thought to himself. “J I got it.” grabbing the suitcase and rolling it on her side, Jack wasn’t sure how she was able to push both suitcases, and hold both kids. 

Somehow it was smooth sailing from there, Jack stayed until Idris was done checking in, bags checked. The bag she was originally going to use as a carry-on she decided to check because she didn’t want to lug another thing around if she didn’t have to. Zander decided he could stand now and wanted to be a helper so Idris let him hold her phone. He was honestly too little to carry a car-seat or wear the diaper bag, and although he has carried Zola before it wasn’t for long distances, they are practically the same size after all. 

Saying goodbye to Jack was weird, not for the kids, they were fine. But this was the first time they have really said a goodbye before one of them takes off in an airplane while they aren’t together. Both of them don’t seem to know what to do with that piece of information, Jack switching the weight back and forth between his feet to help ease his nerves. Iddy with her bottom lip between her teeth, it was finally Zander who broke the awkwardness with his question from below them. “Daddy, why not come?” he asks, he doesn’t seem upset more than anything curious. Jack bends down and explains he has a few more games, and then he promises he will come and he’s even gonna bring Apollo and Luna with him. Zander gasps at the news, a look of excitement in his eyes at the fact the family dog and cat were gonna be there for Christmas. “When?” he asks. 

“4 sleeps buddy.” As he pulls his son in for another hug, kissing the top of his head. Idris stomach twist, in a good way, she knew Jack was always good with kids. But seeing Jack being good with their kids, made something stir in her she hasn’t felt in a while. She takes a deep breath, pushing down whatever feelings were trying to crawl their way up. Jack puts his forehead against Zanders, like he always does before they are going to be separated. “Make sure you listen to Mama okay?”

“Okie daddy.” he stretches and moves away, his attention span has never been long even compared to other two-year olds. Zander holds onto Idris' hand as Jack stands and puts his hand on Zola’s head, leans down and gives her another kiss. 

“Bye-bye Zozo.” he coos. He smiles when she babbles back at him mixed in with “da-da” Finally he steps back and looks at Idris, he wants to step into her space, to hug her, kiss her goodbye even if it’s just on the cheek. But he doesn’t want to make her uncomfortable, so he stands back grasping the back of his neck, he can feel the slight sweat on his skin. “Uhh Iddy. Call me when you land okay." She steps forward and hugs him unprompted and he suddenly doesn’t have any breath in his lungs. He just closes his eyes and wraps an arm around her, the other reaching down to pet Zanders head. Jack could stand there all day despite having a game tonight, hell he could stand there forever if she’d let him. He breathed in finally, enjoying the scent of her shampoo, the smell of baby powder from Zola, he was holding his whole family for the first time in months and he will be damned if he ends it first. 

Jack isn’t sure how long they stood there, time always escapes him when Iddy is in his arms. Finally she looks at him “you’ll be doin’ your pre-game napping when we land.” It takes Jack a second for his brain to catch up, of course leave it to Iddy to go right back to conversation like that wasn’t the first time he had her in his arms in months. 

“Doesn’t matter.” he doesn’t leave room for debate, but he knows she will have something to say so he adds, “you and our kids are about to be on a plane without me, I will be lucky if I can even get my heart to stop pounding so fast, so I could sleep before I know you’re safe Idz.” He doesn’t look away, and neither does she, both trying to read what the other person is thinking. Neither of them giving the other even a slight clue, ‘when did I stop being able to read her every thought’ he thought to himself. 

“Okay.” she nodded at him, putting the car seats on the shitty airport trolly an airline employee offered. Idris was busy,  making sure Zander was holding onto the side of the cart and then she turned and left. Jack stood there to see if she would turn around and wave before she got onto the escalator she didn’t. But at least Jack could be happy that his son did, waving bye to his dad as he yelled something Jack couldn’t hear but knew it was some sort of goodbye. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sunday December 22nd: 

Jack had practice this morning but he didn’t care, just went through the motions. He missed his kids, he missed Iddy, but missing them isn’t new, being away from them due to his hockey schedule isn’t new. He missed most of Zander's firsts - from being a newborn baby to about 8 months old -  due to hockey. Jack knew the all too familiar feeling of missing his family, having fomo was his villain origin story at this point. The only thing that was new was the fact that he was home and they weren’t. It always fucked with him the most the nights where they were with Idris and not him. But at least for the most part they tried to switch off every other night. Jack knows that when he wakes up he’ll see his kids that morning or that afternoon picking them up from daycare. But this, them being home and him being in Jersey, it was torture, it felt like something was nawwing at his skin from the inside, and no matter what he did he couldn’t get the restless feeling out of his head or off his skin. 

The only good news he had was that tomorrow night right after the game he was gone. Jack would leave directly from the rock to the lakehouse if he could tomorrow. But he has to pick up Apollo and Luna from his place first. The little fact that he will be with his kids and Idris under the same roof after tomorrow night is the only thing keeping him from not screaming from the endless restlessness he was feeling. 

“You seem tense.” Nico observes and normally Jack would appreciate his captain and one of his best friends on the team checking on him. But right now he didn’t want to talk, he wanted to skip his shower and get dressed as quick as possible and go home. Jack wanted to pack the car so it was ready for tomorrow, he wanted to get gas so he didn’t have to stop tomorrow night, he wanted to FaceTime Idris and talk to her and his kids. Even though he knew she wasn’t going to talk to him, she would always answer though so he could talk to Zander and Zola. 

“I’m fine.” He mumbles, Jack didn’t even try to hide the little bit of annoyance in his voice. 

“Dude you don’t seem fine. Is everything okay at home?” Nico whispers the last part, he knows Jack doesn’t want people knowing about his life. Even though every single person on the team, coaches, medical staff and hell even the social media team knows Idris and him are living apart. But that doesn’t mean they know all the inner personal details of the day-to-day baby-mama drama. Even Nico doesn’t want their shit aired out for the gossip groups of the Rock. 

“Not in the mood to talk.” Jack mumbles as he throws a pair of sweats on. Jack knows he’s going to regret not showering as soon as he’s home, but at least if he’s home he can take a real shower, maybe if he stands under the hot water long enough - the water hot enough to feel like it’s slightly burning - he’ll be able to think about anything else besides Idris hugging him in the airport and how good it felt to have her in his arms again every time he closes his eyes. 

“Come on man. Keeping that shit in isn’t gonna help you.” Nico is poking, he wants Jack to talk, but Jack doesn’t wanna talk to him. 

He’s still pissed at Nico for babysitting his kids with his brother so Idris could come yell at him about Christmas. Nico also last week took his kids out for hot chocolate when Idris couldn’t pick them up on time from daycare on time due to a meeting running late. Jack can’t be pissed at Idris for not calling him, not trusting him enough to help her out when he was perfectly available. Not when he couldn’t stop thinking about the butterflies she gave him in his stomach when he wrapped her arms around him. Or the fact that he has been a dick to her since they separated, he made Luke their mediator in everything revolving around Idris for the first two weeks, including pick-up and drop-offs. But he can be pissed at Nico and he will be. Even if Jack knows Nico would never make a move on Idris, he knows they are like siblings, he also knows Idris would never go after one of his teammates even if they are separated. But the idea of Idris choosing another man over him, Jack’s always been the jealous type, ‘territorial like a pitbull’ is what his high school girlfriend called it. 

“I know you miss ‘em Jack, it’s normal you know. I miss my fam-” 

Jack cuts him off, he turns his head to Nico’s cubby and in a second he’s in his face screaming at him. “You don’t know shit Nico. This isn’t me missing my mommy or sister. I miss my kids who are 1000 miles away from me right now! You can’t even keep a girl long enough to have a kid. So you latch onto mine? How could you possibly know what I’m feelin’!” he yells. Luke and Jesper are pulling him away from Nico, Jack doesn’t know what happened, one second he was fine the next he was attacking. Jack really doesn’t know what happened, sure he might have been mad at Nico, but to try to attack him? He has always had a slight anger problem but usually it was just when shit didn’t go his way on the ice. The last couple weeks though he’s been snapping at everyone. 

“Bro chill.” he hears Luke in his ear, he tries to shove him off but Luke doesn’t let him, using his long arms to his advantage wrapping Jack in them as he pulls them to the other side of the locker room towards Luke’s bench. “You can be angry but you can’t take that shit out on anyone but yourself.” Luke mumbles softly, Jack knows if they were home he’d be louder, but Luke represents him too much as his older brother to air out his business out in the locker room. Or maybe it was Idris or the kids that made Luke stay quiet, whatever it was Jack was thanking the heavens as he felt himself calm down. Most of the people in the locker room had left to shower, or at least pretended to not listen and watch Jack’s breakdown in front of them.

Luke was holding him in his arms not letting him move until he forced his body to calm down. It must have taken longer than Jack thought to calm down because next time Jack looked up he noticed all the guys were gone, it was just Luke and himself in the room. He’s not sure where 10 men that are over 6 '0 ft tall and over 200 lbs went in 30 seconds but he’s grateful to be alone with his brother because he’s about to cry and at least Luke won’t think of him as pathetic as he felt for it. Luke lets go of his brother and Jack takes a step forward and then turns around so he’s facing Luke. Jack doesn’t wanna look up and see whatever emotion Luke is displaying on his face; disappointment, anger, sympathy. Although Jack doubts Luke feels any sympathy for Jack, he’s seen most of the shit go down between Idris and himself. Jack wouldn’t feel sympathy if he was in Luke’s shoes. Jack stares at his shoes, his dirty white sneakers he keeps here to wear before games. He must have slipped on the wrong pair of shoes when he was too in his head earlier. “It’s just eh” he tries to start, he clears his throat before he tries again. “This is the longest I’ve ever been away from my kids unless I was on a roadie.” 

“I know.” he says, Luke’s tone is neutral, but his voice sounds annoyed. Jack knows his brother isn’t annoyed, he really has no emotion behind his words, and that’s how Jack knows he’s getting fed up with his shit. 

“And Apollo all he does is cry at the door waiting for them to come home, and Luna won’t even glance my way like I’ve personally wounded her by taking her back to our place for a few days. It’s one thing to miss them, it’s another thing to have to watch how even our pets miss them.” Jack sniffles, he didn’t want to cry in front of Luke. He’s done a lot of that lately but he can’t help it, he misses them so much his chest physically hurts. 

“You are going to see them tomorrow night Jacky.” Luke tried to reason as he took a step towards his brother. 

“Yeah but by the time I get there, the kids will be asleep and probably Idris too. Plus I’ll have to crawl into a cold bed since Iddy’s stayin’ in the guest room.” he complains.

“Not to sound like a dick but who’s fault is it that you're even separated in the first place? And don’t say Iddy cause she’s the one who had the balls to leave cause maybe you don’t remember but I do live with you Jack. I know you're my big brother and I will always root for you, I will always look up to you in some way. But you can't seriously be mad at anyone else for where you’re standing.” 

Jack didn’t have a response for his little brother, but he’s never felt like a shitter older brother. Big brothers were supposed to set examples, be a role model, they were supposed to give the “get your shit together” talk to their little brothers, not the other way around. Jack is tired of Luke calling him out lately, but he doesn’t say it, he just sighs and glances up finally. Jack thinks he might be even more tired of seeing that expression on Luke’s face. The one where he’s disappointed but also looks like someone who has no shock in their body, like it was expected for Jack to yell and try to fight Nico, as if it was expected for Luke to have pull him off, or even expected for Jack to try to reason his actions with shitty excuses he knew held no weight. 

Jack just wants it to be tomorrow night so at least he can block everything out and just drive, drive until he finally feels at ease for the first time in days because he will be with his family, his kids, his Idz. 

—---------------------------------------------------------------------

Monday, December 23 ~ 2 days till Christmas: 

Idris was tired, she loved her kids, but not talking to another adult since Saturday morning when she left her sister’s was starting to weigh on her. Of course, she’s messaged Jack here and there when he’s asked for updates, texted her sister off and on. But an actual conversation, not since Saturday and she was starting to go a little stir crazy because of it. 

“MAMA.” Zander screamed from the family room, thankfully because of the open floorplan she didn’t have to move from the stove to answer his calls. 

“Yeah Z baby” she calls. “I’m in the kitchen bubs.” she calls out to him. Immediately she hears the pitter patter of his feet hitting the floor as he runs to her. 

“When's daddy comin’?” he asks as he slams his entire body weight into her legs, immediately trying to climb up her legs while he waits for an answer.. Thankfully she is normal for him constantly running into her and climbing her or Jack, it’s like his body constantly has to be in movement. Ellen swears that Jack was the same way, - and although she always wished to have a ‘mini - Jack’ when she was pregnant with Zander, she wishes she was more specific with the universe, she meant looks and not his restless energy and sass - Idris hopes that he starts to calm as he gets older and not more energetic because she doesn't know how she will survive the ‘horrible threes’ if he is even more of a ball of energy. 

“Honey I’m cooking lunch, do you want up?” she asks her son, glancing away from the grilled cheese she’s making for Zander and Zola to share. Zander continues to pull on the side of her hoodie, the bottoms of his feet pushing her calves trying to continue to climb her. 

“Yeah.” he finally huffs, Iddy barely bends down as she scoops her son up and sits him on the counter next to the stove so he can watch as she cooks. 

“It’s hot, Zander. No touching anything or you’ll have to get down." She gently reminds her son, but she’s not sure if he even knows that she is talking to him. Immediately jumping back into why he came to find his mom anyway. 

“When's daddy comin?” Frowning his eyebrows as he has to repeat his question from earlier. 

“Soon baby. Tomorrow. Daddy has one more game he has to play sweetheart.” Iddy says gently, not sure how he will respond, as she removes the pan from the hot burner and turns the stovetop off. 

“I wanna watch,” he says, although ‘watch’ comes out more as ‘wash.’ Iddy can’t help but smile at how he pronounces some words, still learning how to perfect some of his sounds. 

“Okay. It starts in about an hour I think. First lunch, then we can watch Daddy.” Idris starts to silently pray to the powers above that no one slams into Jack today, like they did the last time Idris let Zander watch one of his dads games a few weeks ago. She really doesn’t want Zander to get scared again like last time, he was so scared until he saw Jack and with him driving here tonight, she couldn’t imagine having an anxious Zander until the middle of the night. 

“FaceTime Daddy and ukle ‘uky.” he asks, Idris grins Zander also hasn’t perfected his ‘L’ sound yet. Idris turns to the 2 kid plates behind her that have some fruit on them and cuts the grilled cheese into 4 pieces and gives Zander 2 pieces and Zola’s plate one to start. 

“I’ll have to see if he’s available honey”, as she microwaves the leftover broccoli in the microwave from the night before she planned to add it to the kids lunch to make it a little more balanced. 

Pulling out her phone, as she walks back over to Zander texting Jack to ask if he has time before the game for a FaceTime. Glancing at the clock she knows the players are probably getting dressed for warm-ups right now or even on the ice for warmups already. Iddy helps her son get down from the counter and helps him settle into a chair at the kitchen table with his food. She sits Zola’s plate in front of her, as she drags Zola and her high-chair closer to the table. 

“Daddy first.” Zander demands, and Idris sighs as she is about to tell her son Jack hasn’t answered her yet but she’s saved by her phone ringing. 

Idris answers the phone, setting it up so it’s promoted in front of Zander. The first thing Jack hears as it finally connects is “Zander you still have to eat while talking to daddy.” Jack grins as he sees his son on the screen, head turned slightly no doubt pouting at Iddy. 

“I don’t wan’ broccoli.” he fusses. 

“Zander.” Jack calls his attention, it’s the first time Zander or Idris address that he’s on the phone. Idris is suddenly glad she’s off camera because she’s pretty sure her breath catches at the sight of Jack. He is sitting in his cubby, the phone titled so all you can see is the collar of his jersey and head, his hair damp and messy probably from him running his hands through it too much, his jawline perfectly on display. “Are you listening to Mama?” he asks. 

Zander looks like a deer caught in headlights, pouting slightly at the fact his dad is calling him out on his behavior. “Bb-but mama’s broccoli isn’t as good as yours.” he mumbles, arms crossed, looking down at his lap as he tells his dad why in his 2-year-old logic he is right. Iddy can’t help but roll her eyes because what her son really means is that she doesn’t smother it in butter and cheese. 

“I’m sure Mama made you more than broccoli Z.” he reasons. But Zander doesn’t respond verbally, just shoves a piece of grilled cheese in his mouth. 

“Daddy you comin’ soon?” he asks mouth full and all, shifting in his chair, suddenly on his knees so he can bend closer to the screen. 

“Yeah I’ll be there tomorrow when you wake up.” Jack answers. 

“Daddy?”

“Yeah.”

“You get a goal fa me.” Zander asks, Jack can hear Iddy chuckle close by in the background even if he can’t see her, and it makes his chest warm. 

“I’ll try bubs.” he promises. Jack looks off the camera and bites his lip, probably contemplating how to say bye to his son so quick. “I gotta go Z.” he softly says. 

“You always have to go.” Zander whines and his pout deepens. 

Jack doesn’t know what to say, he’s glad Idris is close by and can take over. “Z, he can’t score you a goal if he doesn’t go warm-up. Coach will be mad, Daddy might get in trouble and not be able to play.” Idris tries explaining, and although it’s a little dramatic Jack wouldn’t probably get benched if he skipped warm-ups he would definitely get chewed out by more than one person. 

“And how is he gonna score you a goal from the bench baby?” she asks their son. 

After another minute or so, Zander says “okie. Bye daddy. Good ‘uck.” he smiles at his dad. ‘Gosh toddlers and their big emotions,’ Jack thought to himself, as he told Zander bye and that he loves him and how he will see him soon. 

Iddy was able to finish feeding both kids and settle into the coach just in time to turn on the game. Zander is two so his attention span isn’t long enough to pay attention to a whole game. But when Jack gets the first goal 5 minutes into the game, Zander can’t help but scream jumping up and down, “Daddy scored! Daddy scored.” Idris shyly pulls out her phone to take a video of her son’s little celly in the family room, and sends it to Jack to see after the game.

It’s even more of a reaction when Jack gets a second goal, with an assist by Luke. Idris was never into hockey before she met Jack, but now her favorite part about watching hockey is watching her son react to it. They watched Jack get ‘star of the game’ and his interview after in the locker room. The one thing that stuck out to Idris about the interview was when he was asked about his celly. The reporter said he looked like he was trying to sign a ‘z’ in the air after both goals and wanted to know if he knew ASL. 

Jack has the biggest smile on his face, as he lightly chuckles, “no, not well. My kid Zander probably knows more than me.” Everyone laughs at that. “His name starts with a ‘z’ and before the game he asked if i could score him a goal so uh… I guess it was my way of saying hi.” Jack is slightly blushing now, he doesn’t talk about his kids often, he doesn’t post them, but everytime he does mention them he has nothing but adoration in his eyes. 

The reporter follows up with, “After the second you signed ‘z’ twice, why the difference, was it on purpose?” 

“Wow you were really watching me eh?” he jokes. “Do I need to file a report for a stalker?.” After a pause he laughs and goes “ I’m messing with you.Yeah it was on purpose, my second born is named Zola, and we call her Zozo a lot. So I guess it was my way of saying hi to her. Although she is under 2, she probably didn’t make the connection, despite also knowing more ASL than I do.” Everyone laughs after that, and Iddy loses focus as she is consumed in her thoughts about what Jack just revealed, 

Zander ends up FaceTiming with Jack one more time as Jack is sitting in the car in his apartment’s garage about to leave. Idris thinks it’s kind of cute watching how Zander can barely hold her phone as he marches around the house updating him on his thoughts of the Rangers game today. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bedtime was surprisingly easy at first, until Zander said he was scared to sleep in his big kid bed by himself. In a way, it can be understandable since they made the switch to a floor bed for him, she can’t remember if he ever actually has slept in it yet. Plus the one at both Jack’s and her place are the exact same, even the same frame, since originally one of them was brought for the lake house. But when they split they ended up using the frame for Idris’ apartment. Then, when she finally remembered they didn’t have one for the house in Michigan and she tried to go back and buy the same frame for a third time - because Zander has a very hard time with transition and change, she knew it was best if everything was the same - they were sold out. 

Then if she takes into account how this weekend went, Friday night they co-slept at her sisters, Saturday was a bad sleep for both Zander and Zola so they spent the whole night with Iddy in bed. Finally last night, Iddy was too tired from the night before. She didn’t care where they slept as long as they slept so she could sleep. 

She bends down so she’s on his level when she speaks to him. “Okay, I understand sleeping in a new place by yourself. It can be scary huh?” phrasing her statement as a question on purpose. Zander mumbles something as a sort of agreement, nodding his head as well. “Okay, well why don’t we lay down together for a little while?” she asks, with the plan of getting up and going to her own bed for the night once he’s asleep. 

As soon, Zola realized her mama was staying in the room and giving snuggles to her brother, she demanded attention. Standing up in her crib, babbling away, Iddy knows it doesn’t mean anything but also knows if she had the words she would be cursing Iddy out. This leads to all three of them cuddling in Zander’s bed. 

Jack arrived around 2 am, and he’s never been more grateful to be at his destination. Even with the medicine they got from the vet, Luna cried almost the entire twelve-hour car ride. Plus, anytime Apollo saw anything remotely interesting he barked, Jack didn’t know a dog could find so many interesting things. The worst part was that Jack couldn’t even drown them out with music, he tried but it only made them louder, around the eighth hour he gave up entirely. 

Jack didn’t want to park in the garage since he knew the sound would probably wake the kids up, which would wake up Idris. The last thing he wanted was a pissed off Idris because he was being “lazy about walking a couple more steps.” Jack shakes off the memory of her saying that last year to him, and steps out of the car stretching after so many hours. 

After letting Apollo use the bathroom, he grabs the cat carrier and the three of them start to make it inside. Jack kind of expected them to run off when they got inside, which they did. The part that kind of took him off guard after using the bathroom, and slowly making his way up the stairs to the kids room to check on them was to find Apollo and Luna already half sleep on the bed with all three of them; Zander, Zola, and Idris. Slowly he made his way out and stopped in the closet bedroom beside his own which happened to be Luke’s and grabbed the comforter. Quietly he made his way inside and laid the blanket on top of them, he was just about to leave when he heard his son, “daddy?” he calls out, and Jack silently curses that he woke up his kid. 

Turning around and getting on his knees again he whispers, “yeah buddy?” 

“Daddy home!” he says in his normal voice, which Jack hushes over. 

“Gotta be quiet Z. Mama and sissy are sleeping.” he whispers. “Plus Apollo and Luna.” glancing down at the end of the bed where Apollo is curled up, Luna not far from him. 

His son gasps in surprise, “ah, it’s like a sleepover.” Zander says, ‘sleepover’ it’s the word they use when they are trying to explain to their barely 2-year-old how cool it is to have a sleepover with ‘just mama’ or ‘just daddy.’ It definitely wasn’t the best explanation, and although Idris and Jack realize that in hindsight there isn’t much anyone can do. 

“Yeah, a big sleepover.” Jack whispers, a slight sad grin on his face as he pets his son’s hair, dipping down to forehead to give him a kiss. “Goodnight. Love you.” Jack goes to get up, but Zander grabs his arm and stops him. 

“Want daddy cuddles,” he whispers. 

“Z, you have mama cuddles right now we can cuddle tomorrow.” he promises. As much as he would love to go to sleep with his family, he doesn’t want Iddy to wake up uncomfortable. A part of him knows that’s pushing the limit too far, too fast, and he doesn’t want her pulling away even more than she already has. Hell, they didn’t even sleep in the same bed the last six months they were together, Jack definitely knows it’s some kind of crossed boundary if he crawls into bed. 

“Daddy. Sleepover too” Zander is doing that thing, what twitter calls “famous Hughes pout” Jack thinks. Jack really meant no, but he also knows if he says no again, Zander will probably stop whispering which will definitely wake Iddy and Zola up then Idris will definitely be mad at him. 

“Okay.” he says, pulling the comforter up and laying next to his son, thankfully they got a full size bed but as Jack lays down he’s thinking they should have gotten a queen. 

“One big sleepover.” Zander mumbles into his neck, content to be between both of his parents. Jack rationalizes his decision by telling himself that it’s the lesser of two evils. If he said ‘no’ Zander was going to wake up the entire house and Iddy would be pissed. But if he crawls into bed, Iddy might be upset that he crossed a boundary even if he was pressured into crossing it. Jack tells himself that either way Iddy will be upset, but dealing with an angry ‘got 8 hours of sleep Iddy is a lot easier to stomach, plus he gets to cuddle with his son, so basically it’s a no brainer to Jack. 

“Yeah bud, one big sleepover.” he mumbles as he drifts off to sleep. 

Tuesday December 24, 2024

Idris is the first one to wake up, she feels that Zola has moved she’s no longer laying down tucked into her side and immediately she’s up ‘mama bear’ fully activated. Thankfully she’s just at the end of the bed playing with Luna, and even if she wasn’t in the bed, the bed is on the ground so she wouldn’t get hurt if she climbed off of it. Realizing her daughter is safe, she takes a deep breath, her heart rate slowly coming back to a normal pace, until she turns her head and sees Jack and Zander curled up together. 

Idris truly doesn’t know what she feels except anger at the fact that Jack just decided to crawl into bed with them last night. But, she also reminds herself that it’s Christmas and she doesn’t want to fight with him and ruin Christmas for her kids. Gently she removes the comforter that Jack must have brought in for them and climbs to the end of the bed where Zo is. “Good morning princess.” she coos, “why don’t we let the boys sleep and go make some breakfast? Are you hungry Zozo?” 

All Zola does in response is giggle and clap her hands. Iddy decides that’s good enough and scoops her up as she stands, both Apollo and Luna following them out hoping to get an early breakfast. Idris goes downstairs, lets Apollo out, and makes a morning milk for Zola. Idris goes ahead and puts Zola in the playpen in the family room while she moves around the kitchen feeding both animals, and making her morning cup of coffee. She’s happy she’s at the lakehouse and can indulge on Quinn’s fancy espresso machine. 

As she opens the fridge she hears baby feet stomping down the stairs and hears Zander walk slowly into the kitchen. He has his baby blanket in one hand, his hair an absolute mess as he nudges in Iddy’s leg who is still in front of the open fridge looking for what to make for breakfast. 

Iddy’s hand goes to the mess of curls on top of his head. “Morning Z.” She greets him still not looking at him yet. Zander makes some kind of groaning sound as an answer, never been a morning person just like Jack he needs to ease into his day. 

“I was gonna make breakfast, do you wanna stay in here or go lay down on the coach and watch cartoons with sissy?” she asks him softly, finally looking down at him. 

Zander seems to really think about the offer before he says “cartoons. but first morn’ kisses .” The sleep is still evident in his voice. She scoops him up and carries him to the family room, turning on the TV and putting some random cartoon on. Gently she goes to put Zander down the coach, kissing his cheeks super fast to give him his “morning kisses.”

By the time she goes to the kitchen to make breakfast and feeds both kiddos Zander has decided he’s wide awake and ready to go wake up Jack. Glancing at the clock and seeing it’s barely quarter after 7. “Z, you can’t go wake up Daddy, he came in late last night, he needs to sleep.” 

Before Zander can respond they hear rustling from upstairs, and Zander runs to the bottom of the stairs and even opens the baby gate before Idris can catch him. Thankfully he still likes to crawl up the stairs and he didn’t have to crawl far since Jack met him halfway. 

Jack picks him up and lightly tosses him in the air, Zander squeals in happiness as Jack walks them into the kitchen. 

“I didn’t make you breakfast, I didn’t think you would be awake yet.” Idris says standing at the kitchen island not even looking up from her phone. Idris knew she was being petty but she also couldn’t bring herself to care. Jack last night did what he always does ‘whatever he wants’ with no regard to how other people would feel about his actions. 

He sets Zander down, who immediately runs off to the family room to play with Zola. Jack walks around the counter to meet Idris, facing her he says quietly. “It’s okay. I’m sorry about last night.” Jack gently raises his hand from resting on the counter, as if he’s debating if he wants to reach out and touch Idris' arm. 

“We can talk about it later.” 

Jack started to explain himself anyway “It was Zander he-“ 

Idris snaps quietly at him, “That’s real rich Jack, always blaming someone else, even your 2-year-old son. And I said we can talk about it later when the kids aren’t 20 feet away.” 

No one else is set to arrive until around 5 tonight even Jack’s parents, as much as they love their son and adore their grandchildren and Idris. They all decided - more like Luke warned them about how bad it’s been with the bitterness and overall pettiness - it would be best if they came later because they know they are less likely to fight if they don’t have anyone to distract the kids, well they hoped. 

Thankfully both of the kiddos were pretty much on the same nap schedule so they both went down around 10 am. Jack gulped his body suddenly tense as he exited the kids room with Idris. He really wished it was one of those days where he joined the kiddos for naptime just so he didn’t have to go downstairs and fight with Idris. 

Idris grabbed the baby monitor on her way out of the room, slowly making her way down the hall and down the stairs. Jack followed behind like a child who knew he was about to get scolded or a dog with his tail between his legs looking down, nervous about what’s about to come next. He followed her all the way to the kitchen before she turned around and gave him a look as if to say ‘what the fuck Jack?’ 

“Idz, let me explain.” He speaks gently, raising his hands up as if he’s already surrounded by raising the white flag. Jack thinks if he goes on using her nickname, it will soften her, possibly maybe a little. 

It does not go the way Jack was hoping for, “Don’t Hughes.” she grits out of her teeth. ‘Fuck she’s more pissed than I thought’ Jack thinks to himself. “Don’t call me that when I’m pissed at you, it isn’t going to help you.”

“I’m sorry I am. But Zander woke up when I came to check with the kids, and he asked for snuggles. I told him that you were already cuddling with him. But he was insistent, okay? And I hadn’t seen them in a few days plus I knew if I said no he would probably throw a tantrum and he would wake you and Zo up. Okay. So I decided it was the best option. I know you probably think I crossed some kind of line with where we are at. But I’m not sorry for giving into Zander, even if it made you pissed at me.” Jack explains as he watches her expression soften which Jack is grateful for. 

“You did cross a boundary. I only accidentally fell asleep in Zanders bed with them. I was trying to get him to not co-sleep for the first time in days and I ended up falling asleep with them.” Iddy turns her head slightly, and stares off a little looking deep in thought. Jack really wants to step into her space, he wants to gently grab her chin and force her to look at him, he wants to force her to tell him what she’s thinking.Even though he knows it’s technically not his place anymore, he still wants to.  But he doesn't, he just chews the inside of his mouth giving his mind something else to concentrate on. After a minute or so, she turns to him, “let’s unpack the car while the kids are asleep.” 

They work in silence bringing everything in and hiding them in the basement closet they know the kids will never open. They even build the mini stick goal in complete silence, it would impress others watching two people work in that degree of harmony without speaking. Although, Jack thought to himself about how it was only like this because of everything that’s happened. For better or worse, they learned how to work in silence long before Idris left and it wasn’t because they were so comfortable with each other. It was because Jack was so angry that anytime he spoke to Idris they yelled, and Idris stopped trying to beg Jack to try, so they learned how to work together, raise two kids without even speaking for almost 10 months. 

—---------------------------------------------------------

Once the kids wake up from their naps the pair seems to be able to find their voices again as if nothing happened during the kids naps. They spend the rest of the day playing with the kids, letting Zander run the show in how they spent the day. From playing mini sticks, to playing outside on the playset or jumping on the ground level trampoline. 

Around 3 though Idris reminded Zander that they still needed to bake cookies to leave out for Santa tonight. Zander loves baking with his mom, so he was content with not playing outside anymore and instead drinking hot chocolate and baking cookies with his mom. Zola is a little young at 19 months to care about baking, so Jack and her play in the family room. 

The house is filled with giggles from both kids, Christmas music playing lightly in the background, the Christmas lights glowing from the tree and the smell of sugar cookies baking in the oven. While the cookies were baking they decided to throw a Christmas movie on and of course because Zander is Jack’s son he picked ‘Home Alone’ to watch. Jack reminds himself to enjoy this, enjoy that they are snuggled all together on the couch watching his favorite Christmas movie with no tension. While Idris is hoping that the lightness in the air can stay until after tomorrow night but she has a feeling in the back of her mind that it probably won’t. 

—--------------------------------------------------------

“Mama look.” Zander demands, as he displays one of his finished sugar cookie decorated with so many globs of icing and sprinkles, she already knows she’s going to make Jack eat that one tonight. 

“Wow baby. It’s beautiful.” she smiles wide at him.

She sees in the corner of her eye chuckling as Zola sits well more stands in his lap. Zola didn’t seem to understand the concept of decorating the cookie, as she had icing all of her hands and face giggling, she was signing for ‘more.’ 

“No.” Idris says, signing ‘no’ as well, to which Zola starts aggressively signing ‘more.’ Jack can’t help but laugh as Idris signs inresponse ‘no. all done. All done.” Idris doesn’t even speak because she knows she doesn’t have to for Zola to understand what she’s saying. Zola tries to reach for the plate to grab another cookie but Zander beats her. 

“Mama said all done Zola. These are for Santa” in the most serious voice a 2-year-old can have. Jack just laughs at the fact that not only did Zander also cut off his little sister, but how he did it,  even as Zola turns to him, grabbing onto him fussing thinking he will give into her. 

“Not this time Zozo. I know cookies taste good though.” she whispers as he rubs her back, and comforts her, even if he’s still laughing with Idris about Zander cutting her off. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------

As everyone arrives the house becomes a loud, energetic place. Zander convinced both his uncles and Grandpa to play mini sticks with him, which Idris didn’t even realize they had that many mini sticks at the lakehouse. Of course, none of them are the mini sticks Zander asked Santa for Christmas. Ever since he learned that his dad was getting a custom mini stick from Bauer Hockey, he asked Santa for his own which would have been easy for Jack to ask for. But no, Zander didn’t like that it said J.Hughes on it, since his nickname wasn’t ‘J’ it was ‘Z.’ So he wanted it to say Z.Hughes. Thankfully, Jack was able to convince them to make two custom mini sticks, and even put them in the black mystery paper for him, if he put it on his instagram story Christmas Day. 

While the boys were all busy playing mini sticks with the kids, Ellen and Idris were in the kitchen. As Idris pours both Ellen and herself a glass of wine, she hears Ellen ask her if she’s okay.

“What?” she asks in a daze, maybe she didn’t hear Ellen right. 

“Are you okay honey? I know I’m Jack’s mom but, you can still talk to me you know. Although, I was never a single mom per say, Jim was gone so much when the boys were little sometimes it felt like I was. I know you have your mom who was a single mom you can go to for advice but I just wanted-.” 

“Ellen.” Iddy cuts her off, gently setting both wine glasses down. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m fine really.” Ellen gives Idris a look as if she knows that Idris is full of it, but doesn’t push, just nods her head. Before either of them can speak they hear a high pitched cry and Apollo barking loudly from the family room and both of them take off. 

Idris runs into the family room to see Zander holding his arm, fully crying in Jack’s arms. As soon as he sees Idris, he no longer wants Jack, only his mom, a true mama's boy. As Idris kneels down to her son, he slams into her body. “Shh. it’s alright. What happened, love?” she asks her son as he forces himself as close as humanly possible to her his high pitch screaming not lessening. 

“What happened?” Ellen asks the men in the room in that voice you never want to hear from your mother no matter how old you are. 

“He got hit with a puck.” Luke mumbles as he picks up Zola so she doesn’t get too close to the young parents while they try to calm down their son. 

“A foam one right?” Ellen asks. 

“No.” Jim answers. 

“What?” Idris asks the adults around her, refusing to look at Jack. 

“We couldn’t find any foam ones, so we thought we would use an outside hockey puck. I told them to be careful but Zander is so jumpy, I guess when Quinn shot the puck, he moved at the last minute and it hit him.” Jim explains. 

“It was an accident.” Jack mumbles as Zander is finally just sniffling. “Hi lil’ man.” he whispers to his son, who has barely left the comfort of his mothers arms, ever so slightly tilting his head to see his dad. 

“The good news is that it can’t be broken, Quinn didn’t shot it that hard.” Luke comments, and then immediately shut up when he was met with glares from everyone else in the room. 

Quinn bends down to Zander, “hey buddy I’m so sorry.” Jack can tell that Quinn feels like shit for it, but he doesn’t care he hurt his son all he wants to do is punch Quinn in the face a couple times. 

“Iz otay.” Zander whispers and Quinn sadly smiles back at his nephew. After Idris and Jack both looked over Zander’s arm without his long sleeve shirt on in the bathroom, they knew he was just gonna have a nasty bruise but that was about it. 

The Hughes family has this tradition that Idris has just decided to roll with when it comes to Christmas Eve dinner. Idris grew up in a family where they had to dress up and all the aunties, uncles, and grandparents came over. The expectation for you to be on your best behavior in your best Sunday clothes which were also usually the mist itchy clothes. The Hughes were the complete opposite, every year they ordered pizza in and just bumped out on the coaches watching movies. 

So that’s what they did, Zander didn’t leave Idris’ arms and neither did Zola. Both of the babies are perfectly content in their moms arms and no one else's. It was kind of a pain for Idris to help both of the kiddos eat when they were so physically attached to her. But anytime Jack tried to help by peeling one of them off, they whined and batted his hand away. Everyone could tell it hurt Jack’s feelings, his dad slapping his shoulder almost trying to comfort him. 

Sometime during the movie, Zola fell asleep. It was somewhere in the middle of ‘The Elf’ where Buddy is decorating the apartment and eating maple syrup pasta for breakfast that Idris’ phone buzzes. Gently she grabs it out of her pocket and sees that it’s her boss calling her, immediately she gently removes the limbs of her Zander off of her getting up and handing a sleeping Zola to Ellen on her way out the family room. 

“Hello.” she answers the phone, standing in the hallway that leads to the stairs going upstairs. 

“Hey glad I caught you. Remember that client Samson that wanted that painting for his wife for Christmas?” he asks sounding rushed. 

“You mean for her birthday?” Idris asks kindly trying not to come out and tell her boss he’s wrong. 

“Yeah yeah same thing anyway, the artist finally agreed to the price today at 500k.” 

“Wow, that's great, I know Samson will be happy.” 

“Well that’s the problem,” after a pause her boss continues “that’s kind of why I’m calling.” 

“What?” she doesn’t try to hide her anxiety.

“Well Samson has apparently decided that it’s not worth 500k and the artist barely agreed to that price so I need you to convince Samson it’s worth it.” he explains as if it’s just a regular Tuesday morning in the office. 

“On Christmas Eve?” she asks. 

“Yeah. It’s one phone call " Iddy come on.” sounding like it’s not a big deal at all. 

“Okay.” 

“Perfect. But he can’t do it tonight, it’s going to be the day after tomorrow around 2 pm. I’ll tell Sarah, my new secretary, to email them to you.” 

Idris can’t help but joke, “what happened to Kennedy?” she chuckles, knowing it’s an on-going joke that the only woman who can stand working for him is her because he doesn’t hit on her. 

“Didn’t work out. Anyway Merry Christmas. Send the kiddos my love. Jack too.” 

“Haha, very funny William.” sounding as sarcastic as possible as she hangs up the phone. 

Before she can even put her phone back in her hoodie’s pocket, she jumps up at the sound of Jack behind her. “Seriously Idris. You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Jesus Jack you scared me. What are you even talking about?” Idris doesn’t bother hiding the tiredness in her voice, it’s been a long day and it will be an even longer.

 “You left watching a movie with your family on Christmas Eve to gossip with William.” his arms are crossed in that way where it’s not because he’s annoyed, his jaw slightly clenched. 

“Zola is asleep. Zander was half asleep when I left. So yes I stepped out to take a phone call when it’s a movie I have seen no less than a 100 times.” Idris was matching Jack’s annoyed expression not in the mood for whatever she knows he’s about to imply. 

“That’s not the point.” slightly raising his voice, it doesn’t go unnoticed to Idris that someone in the family room turns up the volume of the movie. 

“Then what is Jack?” she asks.

“The fucking point is that it’s always him. It’s like he has this power over you even if your kids aren’t above it!” He’s now screaming and any chance Idris had of not also raising her voice is over. 

“That’s not even close to the truth and you fucking know it! I’m not sure what the fuck you’re trying to imply Jack but it’s wrong!” 

“So you don’t care more about your career than you do us!” he yells at her. 

“No! I don’t. But the same argument could be made for you, Mr.hotshot hockey player!”

“You don’t seem to mind about my hockey player money.” he retorts back, he has that smirk on his face like when someone knows an insult they just spit out sticks. 

“Oh my god! Were not even together and were having the same fucking fight! It’s insane!” she yells storming out of the hall to climb the stairs two at a time, but Jack is apparently not done. 

“So that’s it?” he yells at her as they climb the stairs. 

“Yeah that’s fucking it Jack! You know I’m done, you know I love my job just like you do. You know I love being a mom. But you also know I was hesitant to come here, but I love being a mom so bad I decided to spend my first Christmas single in years with my ex-boyfriend and his family so my kids can have both their parents for Christmas. So don’t tell me I put anything above those babies again asshole.” Idris turns to walk down the hall to the guest room she’s been staying in. 

“Ex-fiance. Not boyfriend.” he can’t help but point out, it’s like a sickness, the way even when she hasn’t been his for almost 3 full months he still needs to stake his claim to her. 

“God of course that’s what you got out of that.” she mumbles as she slams the door behind her. 

Jack makes his way back downstairs, kind of surprised that Zola stayed asleep during that, she’s still snuggled up on his moms chest. Zander has since climbed into Quinn’s lap for cuddles, it doesn’t really surprise anyone he is becoming the favorite uncle whenever he’s around. “Don’t” he mumbles as he falls into the coach where Idris was sitting, Luke next to him. 

“Oh bro. I wasn’t planning on it. That’s what mom and dad are for.” he whispers as a response. 

“Daddy?” Zander asks from Quinn’s lap. 

“Yeah Z.” he asks, trying to hide how angry he is from his son. 

“Where's mama?” 

“She has a headache bubs, so she went to bed early.” 

“Oh” is all he responds with leaning back into his uncles chest. 

“You always have been a shit liar.” Luke mumbles which earns a slap in the back of his head from Jack. 

After a couple minutes, Jack can see that Zander and Quinn are whispering amongst themselves not really watching the ending of the movie. If Jack took an honest survey of the room no one was really watching the movie, as if everyone was on edge waiting for the next shoe to drop. 

Zander slowly shimmies his way off of his uncle's lap and goes to make his exit. “Where are ya headed Z?” Jack asks. 

“To give mama snuggles. Like she does to me when I feel sick.” he tells his dad before he’s off dragging the same baby blanket he left on the coach this morning back upstairs with him. 

“Well I think we're headed to bed as well.” Jim announces. 

“I can put Zola to bed Ma, hand her over” Jack offers but is waved off as she stands and they leave the room. 

After a couple minutes of the brothers sitting in silence Quinn’s the one to break it. “I know you guys are separated, but it must be a new low for your son to comfort Idris when you're the one who made her upset.” 

“Will you shut-up you hurt my kid tonight I outta kill you.” Jack grinds between his teeth.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Idris hears a knock on her door and decides to ignore it knowing it’s probably Ellen or one of Jack’s brothers coming to check on her. “I’m fine” she groans back, turning away from the door. She can hear it click open and says “Luke I’m really not in the mood.” 

“Mama” she hears Zander say and suddenly she’s sitting fully up starring at her son at the side of the bed. 

“Hi honey. Is your arm feeling better?” she asks. 

“Yeah. Daddy said you your head hurts.” he mumbles softly as if not to speak too loud to hurt your imaginary headache anymore than it already would be and Idris heart melts at the gesture. 

“Yeah, just a little. I’ll be okay.” reaching out to gently push the baby curls out of his eyes, suddenly thinking about the fact he needs a haircut. 

“Want snuggles? Like when I’m hurt you give snuggles” he asks shyly looking up at his mom. 

“Always from you baby. Come ‘ere” As she picks him up and climbs under the covers with him enjoying her son cuddling with her. 

Jack went to check on the kids around 1 am when Idris and he agreed to meet downstairs to play Santa. When he peaked in he only saw Zola in her crib. ‘Z must still be with Idris.’ he thinks to himself. Idris doesn’t come down to help but who can blame her, he was kind of dick to her. So Jack carries up all the gifts by himself and puts them under the tree including the new goal and Zolas new walker toy. He eats all the cookies, even Zanders very very sugary ones and the carrots too, only leaving the stumps. 

Finally as he lays down he hears Zola crying. Sometimes she still needs a diaper changed in the middle of the night. Slowly he gets up and walks across the hall to the nursery to see Zola standing in her crib crying. “Hey Zozo.” he greets her as he flicks the light on and walks across the room. 

Zola did need a diaper changed, but once she did that she was still crying Jack wasn’t sure what was wrong and then signed for ‘mother.’ Idris was coming into the nursery anyway after hearing Zola not calming down. “Mama” she stretches, physically trying to get out of Jack’s arms and into hers. 

It hurt Jack more than he cared to admit, Zola was always a ‘daddy’s girl’ literally from the moment she came out of Idris. There were so many times when she was young that only he could calm her down, she really only ever wanted Idris if she was hungry as a newborn. 

“Hi honey.” she coos and immediately she stops crying. Idris walks over to her crib and grabs a pacifier. Zola glady takes it and leans her head on Idris’ shoulder. Jack stands off to the side feeling like chopped liver. As Idris tries to put her back in her crib she gets fussy again. 

“Okay okay. I get it. It must be scary sleeping alone. I don’t think you’ve ever done that before huh? Zander is already in my bed, wanna sleep with mama and brother tonight?” she asks in a soft voice that one would only use for a baby or small animal. 

Jack feels like shit still standing in the middle of the room, as Idris walks out the room carrying a very content Zola. All he can think about is how that’s the third time today his kids have picked Idris over him, and the second time tonight Zola specifically has. Jack never thought he would be jealous because his kids are giving more attention to Idris but he is, and that’s all he can think about as he attempts to fall asleep. 

—---------------------------------------------------------------------

Wednesday December 25, 2024 - Christmas Day

Idris woke up to Zander shaking her awake, Idris has never seen him so excited in the morning, she grabs her phone and looks at the time 5:45 AM. 

“Santa came! COME ON MA.” He screams physically trying to pull her up. A very big contrast to how be is every other day of the year, but Iddy finds it cute. 

“Zander. Shhh. People are sleeping.” As she helps Zola out of bed, and lets her walk just holding her hand. Idris thinks it’s kind of amazing how kids wobble and then all of a sudden one day they can walk and talk like it’s nothing. 

“Santa came Zo! Come on, move faster.” Zander starts pleading with his little sister to move faster. 

Iddy can see how flustered Zander is becoming at how ‘slow’ Zola is walking down the hall,scared he might try to drag her down the stairs himself soon.  So she suggests “Z honey why don’t you go wake up Daddy and we’ll meet you downstairs.” 

He doesn’t need to be told twice, sprinting down the hall screaming for Jack to wake up. Idris can hear a yelp from Jack from the stairs and can only imagine where Zander jumped him awake. 

Idris makes it down the family room, at the exact moment she hears Zander running down the stairs. His yelling must have woken everyone up, because behind Jack are both his brothers and his parents and Apollo bringing up the rear. 

Everyone lets the kids open their gifts all at once from Santa, it’s kind of heartwarming seeing how happy they both are. Apollo has decided to bring the wrapping paper to Jim who’s holding the trash bag. 

“Apollo. Are the kids too messy for you?” Iddy jokes and all he does is use his nose to nudge her leg as he passes her with another ball of wrapping paper in his mouth. 

Quinn laughing asks “did you guys teach him to do that?” 

“No” Jack breathes out in between his own laughing fit. 

Once the kids were done everyone opened their gifts from everyone all at once. Except for the gifts that Zander and Zola (Zander to be honest) picked out for everyone. Zander loved passing out his gifts - some might have been homemade - but Jack’s and Iddy’s were not. He stood in front of his dad practically blocking the view as he opened his gift. Now when Idris took Zander out shopping for his dad, she did not stir him in any sort of direction; she truly gave him free range to pick whatever ‘he’ wanted his dad to have. This is how Jack ended up opening a bag of pretzels and a pink beanie. In his defense, pretzels are Jack’s favorite snack (might also be his, so there might be a conflict of interest but Iddy didn’t say anything). The bright pink beanie was because “daddy only wears boring colors and pink is a fun color.” The beanie also has a tacky flamingo stitched on the front but Jack loves it anyway and puts it on right away. 

Now when Jack took Zander out he did not go with the ‘free range method.’ Now Jack did let Zander  wrap it,  Idris is pretty sure he used at least 2 rolls of tape alone because she had to use scissors to cut out the box. When she opened the box she found a new pair of knee high leather boots to replace her old pair. Nothing was wrong with her old pair but when she had Zola her feet grew in size and never went back down. She loved her knee high boots and was really sad she had to donate them. Even over a year later she hadn’t really found the time to replace that exact pair of other boots she could wear instead. But to see the exact pair, down to the brand and even the little pattern stitched in the heel made her gasp. 

“Do you like them mommy?” Zander asked unsure since she hadn’t spoken immediately. 

“I love them, baby. Thank you.” she whispers and as she hugs Zander she makes eye-contact with Jack who's across the room sitting in a chair with that dumb pink beanie on. She mouths ‘thank you’ to him and he blushes, quickly looking away. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Surprisingly to everyone, the day was turning out to be pretty good. After presents, Idris, Quinn and Ellen made a huge breakfast for everyone. Everybody sat around the dining room table (the kitchen table not comfortable to fit everyone plus the kiddos) and ate. The meal was great, it was like the tension from last night was gone. After breakfast everyone sort of migrated to the family room, lounging around doing nothing, some Christmas movie on in the background no one was really watching. Quinn even made a comment to Luke about how he’s gonna win the fight since it was already 4 pm without Jack and Idris getting into a fight. All Luke said was “I don’t know about that big brother.” as he walked away stealing the last cinnamon roll on Quinn’s plate he had just warmed up as a snack, going to chase after Zander with his new nerf gun.

Idris was in the kitchen, finishing cleaning the dishes she was feeling too lazy to clean right after breakfast. Idris was enjoying the quiet around the loudness that was the Hughes family Christmas. As she was washing the last pan that had the cinnamon rolls in them she heard someone come behind her but didn’t think anything of it until she heard Jack’s voice. 

“Hey” he softly says. 

“Hey yourself.” she answers awkwardly, not really sure what Jack was looking for, maybe he wanted to hear thank you the present Idris thought to herself. Putting the pan in the drying rack and wiping her hands with a dish towel she turns“Thank you by the way for the boots.” 

Jack babbles out a quiet “yeah no problem.” his cheeks were just slightly more pink than they were when he came in. “Uh, can we talk?” he asks, scratching the back of his neck a nervous tic he’s never been able to grow out of. 

“About?” she asks confused about what Jack could possibly be thinking about. 

Somehow her answer must of satisfied Jack because he walks more into the kitchen standing directly in front of Idris leaning against the island, while she’s still in front of the sink. “Look about last night.” 

“What is there to talk about?” Idris doesn’t mean to sound as defensive as she does. But how many times can you have the same fight with someone before there is nothing left to add to the conversation. 

“Uh like about how you disappeared in the middle of the movie to talk to a precious boss who constantly calls you when he knows you are home spending time with the kids.” he might not have meant to scold her but that’s what it sounded like. 

“Oh my god Jack. I can’t believe you are coming in here and instead of apologizing you are just bringing up again how mad that I took one phone call about work. You act as if someone from the devils called you, you wouldn’t have taken it.”

“I wouldn’t.” 

Idris is nothing less than baffled at how Jack is acting right now. “That’s such bullshit and you know it.” Idris starts to walk around the kitchen as if she needed to give herself as much physical space from Jack as possible. 

“It’s not.” he defends himself before he adds, “Did you answer just because it was him?” The way he says ‘him’ Idris immediately knows what’s really bothering him, it’s not that she got up during the movie or even that she took a work call. No, Jack was mad because he was jealous. 

“Oh my god!” she sighs. “I can’t believe this. You’re mad at me because you're jealous.” she accuses Jack, but it comes out more as a statement - as if it was already confirmed as a fact - rather than an assumption. 

“I am not.” he snaps at her, his voice starting to get ever so slightly higher, as he walks around the island to be on the same side as her again. 

“You fucking are Jack! God I can’t believe this! We are literally again having the same fight and we are not even together anymore!” feeling so frustrated that she is starting to yell, running her hands through her hair as if it will ease some of the anger she is feeling inside. 

“God I am not. I’m mad that you prioritize work over our family!” 

“Bullshit. Fucking bullshit and you fucking know it!” she yells, not thinking about who else is in the house, or the fact that Zander and Zola are in the next room. “God that is so rich coming from you! How much of Zander's first 9 months of life did you miss? How much of me being pregant with Zola were you just.. gone Jack? Playing hockey?” 

“I was providing for this family!” he yells, his blue eyes as dark as the deep sea filled with his anger.

“I never said that you weren’t! What I am saying is that you can’t say that you also don’t work a lot of hours and are away a lot from the kids! You can’t sit there and point a finger at me when three are p[ointing back Jack! I’m done having this conversation with you. Whether you're jealous. Not jealous. I don’t care we’re broken up so there is no reason for you to feel some type of way. Or for you to come in here and yell at me.” Idris turns to walk away and leave the kitchen but stops at Jack's words. 

“Are you fucking him?” he asks. Idris is frozen and she is astonished at his accuration of her character.

“What?” she asks as she turns around, truly believing she heard him wrong because her Jack would never ask her such a thing or think that somehow she could be sleeping with her boss. 

“You heard me.” he snapped, stepping closer to her. “Are you dropping your panties anywhere you can for him like you use to for me?” his words spitting venom. 

“Fuck you.” Idris says she walks away just trying to get upstairs as far away from Jack as she possibly can because her watery eyes become full blown tears. 

Jack follows her, apparently not done with fighting with her. Dispute the fact that it feels like his words somehow felt worse than a bullet to the chest. “What no answer Iddy?” he asks. 

Idris was going to ignore him until she heard her son. “STOP.” he yells at Jack jumping in front of him kicking and punching him as hard as he could. “ALL YOU DO IS HURT MAMA. I HATE YOU.”

Idris can’t walk away from her son even if a tiny part of her loves him for it. She comes up behind him, picking him up from under his armpits and carrying him away somewhere. “Zander no. We do not hit people and we do not tell them you hate them.” Idris starts to talk carrying him up the stairs, still an angry ball of limbs yelling. 

“I DO HATE HIM. I DO” 

“We don’t use that word in this house.” they can hear Idris says before they hear a door shut upstairs.

Jack doesn’t move, he doesn’t say anything he’s frozen in place. Jack doesn’t even know where Zander learned that word, and it breaks his heart. His own kid, the one thing he loves the most in this world hates him? Jack knew that he preferred Idris over him, which was fine. But to hate him, to want him to leave. Jack was gonna be sick, he felt this deep need to throw up. 

“I-I I need some air.” he chokes out to his family standing around the hall and family room. Jack runs out of room to the back deck, he doesn’t stop moving until he’s leaning over the railing emptying his stomach of everything he ate in the last 12 hours. 

“Here.” Quinn says to Luke, handing him a 100 dollar bill. 

“Keep it. I don’t want it.” Luke mumbles climbing up the stairs, whether to go hide his room or check on Idris and Zander no one is sure. 

“I’ll go check on him.” Quinn says it at the same time Jim says “Imma check on Jack.” But Ellen stops both of them, gently touching both of them on the shoulder. 

“No, I got it. Why don’t you guys finish the movie?” She doesn’t give them any room for debate; they settle back into the coach. 

Ellen slowly opens the sliding glass door now in her boots and winter coat, along with a blanket she must have grabbed on her way out. Jack turns around to the sound of the door, Ellen can see his red rimmed eyes from crying, his blue eyes the lightest of shades it always is when he cries. “I don’t wanna talk.” he mumbles turning back out to look at the lake, he can’t see much because it’s so dark out but he tries anyway. 

“Okay, that’s fine. I'll tell you to listen.” she says in that tone only mothers can use on their sons, as she drapes the blanket over his shoulders. “He doesn’t hate you, you know that right Jacky?” she asks gently. 

“Uff. Could have fooled me.” he mumbles. 

“Jack, he's two. He doesn’t even know how to spell his name, he doesn’t understand what he’s saying.” she tries to gently let Jack see the truth. 

“I don’t know Ma, he never wants me anymore. Even when he’s at home with me he’s asking for Idris. I knew he was a mama’s boy and I was okay with that but he hates me. All he seems to do is fight me on every little thing. Honestly I’ve been a shit father, I would probably hate me too if I was him."He still hasn’t looked at his mom, he’s just word vomiting as he leans against the railing of the deck and  stares out to the land and the lake. 

“I’m gonna tell you a secret. It’s a secret every parent figures out at some point and no one tells anyone about parenthood. A child is their meanest self with the person they love the most. He loves you Jack, adores you even. All he does is want to be like you. And you know what you are?” she asks, he turns to her giving her look. “You are the biggest mama’s boy there is. Where do you think he learned how to be one? Or the fact that he wants to play center ‘cause my daddy does.’ The boy loves you. He just is little. And yeah kids bounce back, but you have to remember that you and Iddy being apart is also a very big change for Zander. And that boy doesn't like change. Kind of like someone else I know.” She gives him a pointed look. 

“Who me?” he jokes for the first time since she got out on the deck. 

As they turn to head back inside she says “just think of it this way.. It’s like a right of passage for your kid saying they hate you. Well except usually it’s during the teenage years..” She jokes as Jack wraps his arm around her side giving her a hug. 

“Can I just say one thing?” 

“What?” Ellen asks. 

“This is definitely the worst Christmas.” Jack admits. 

“Yeah well Christmas joy is overrated. Why do you think we did more to celebrate Hanukkah while you were growing up?” Both of them laugh and head inside, Jack does feel better after he talks with his mom. Maybe it is true what they say, you are never too old for a mom talk and a hug.

[anbaisai]

Finally had time to sit down and write, but honestly there’s not much to be said other than thank you to everyone who wrote a message on my tree! I really enjoyed reading every single message and screenshotting to save them into a folder for when I need a lil boost ww (including one from Mr. Viper himself above that got a laugh out of me, thanks Jamil really appreciate you thinking I’m cool)

Some sappiness under the cut:

I never expected to receive this much support for my silly yume/oc ship content when I began posting, and I really don’t have the words to express how grateful I am. I’ve met many wonderful people through this fandom, and also just had lots of fun in general making art. I mean it when I say I genuinely never had this much motivation and inspiration to create for any fandom (or original content) in the past. There was a long, long period in my life during which trying to find even a crumb of motivation to draw felt impossible. There was always some reason that I couldn’t - be it school/life being too busy, feeling too tired, having other stuff to do first, etc. I thought I’d never rediscover my love and passion for art, until I finally pushed myself to design my Yuu for real (instead of just thinking about it) and then everything just snowballed from there. (For context, I began playing TWST in 2020 and, despite being very much in love with it, only began drawing anything for it this year.)

I have such a massive list of ideas that I still want to draw (plus several asks that I want to answer that I just haven’t had the time to yet), so I’m certainly going to be kept busy for a while. After previously making every excuse possible for not drawing, I’ve learned that yeah, once you really love something you will squeeze time out for it no matter how hard things get, because it kills you not to. All those times when I wondered when I’d ever be able to draw as much as my favourite artists now feel like a distant relic of the past, and I have Twisted Wonderland (especially Jamil) and this community to thank for it. If anyone reading this is going through something similar, I promise it gets better - you will need to put in the effort to make it start, but you will get there.

There’s also my past experiences of being in fandoms that, well, did not welcome yume/self-shipping type content. If I so much as thought of creating any, the fear of being ridiculed would make me back away from the idea immediately. I’m glad to see that sentiment seems to be no longer the norm, but also the TWST fandom has been one of the most supportive of yume content I’ve ever seen. To everyone wanting to participate but has been hesitating, you absolutely should! My only regret is not starting sooner, seriously. In a sense I feel like I'm fulfilling a childhood dream of mine, and all of my past hesitation and anxiety just dissipated once... as cringe as it sounds - once love took over. So go pour your love and passion into that character you adore, they deserve it.

Anyways, wishing everyone a happy holidays and happy new year! Here’s to another year of enjoying TWST and creating for the things we love ❤

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐝 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ platonic, gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

・Boyd already had a son, but Ellis was too angry at him. He barely had anything to do with his father, the Sheriff, no matter how hard Fatima pushed Ellis

・You had entered Fromville by yourself; it was supposed to be your first adventure by yourself and now you were trapped in HELL.

・For the first few days, you were a tiny bit catatonic; anxiety, along with the whole "What could go wrong!" from your family was really messing with your head

・Fatima was the person who showed you a lot of kindness, patience and ways of looking at the town.

・But you came here by yourself, no link to anyone and you felt like 1. an outsider and 2. like the people wouldn't care if anything happened to you

・That was until you were too late getting back to your home in town, the monsters had already pulled up and were doing their creepy business.

・Boyd threw himself straight into action, flinging open the Sheriff Station/Post Office door and grabbing your arm.

"What are you doing out here?! It's DARK!"

"No, I no, I no-"

"So you were trying to get yourself kILLED?!"

"No! I just got carried away at the edge of the forest-"

"The EDGE of the WHAT NOW!"

"No Sheriff, it's okay. It's not like I have any ties here and the probability of me surviving is very low... so..."

・It was in that moment that Boyd decided to unconsiously adopt you.

・He would never let you feel alone again.

・Everyone was going to know you, know your importance.

・Whenever you give your opinion during matters (because you are now in the inner circle - you know more than the regular citizens),

Boyd always holds up a hand before you can talk, "No. You are not putting yourself as bait. Not again."

・Kenny likes you a lot, romantically? Maybe. He's still mixed up about the whole Kristi and Marielle thing.

・Then again, it's not like anyone was going to approach the Sheriff's kid with a romantic offer. Boyd is deeply protective of you.

・Both Jade and Randall have their eyes on you.

・They think you're very unique, smart but also have a boldness that this town had brought out in you.

・Plus you never let either of their quips go without an insult straight back at them

・Ellis, who hadn't been in town for a while, was surprised. A little hurt, but c'mon - deep down he knew he could never be replaced.

・Boyd always makes sure that you're okay, especially when it's just you two at the station. There's one bedroom/cell type place.

・So Boyd made another area just for you, where you had your own bed, a sheet to pull over for privacy and room for all your little trinkets.

・Sometimes he prefers you to sleep in the cell, especially when there's been an incident with the Monsters.

・To get him to open up, you made him play truth or dare once and it was the most fun he's ever had in a while.

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Two damaged individuals who attach themselves to each other

"Come Near Them And I Will Fucking End You" (Boyd) x "You Heard The Old Timer!" (You, with the constant old person joke)

You bring him things you find interesting like bugs, rocks, things Mrs Chen let you go look for in the lost and found...

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Found Family

Trustworthy Male Mentor

Father Figure Who Doesn't Realise He's Basically Raising You Until You Call Him Dad

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Beautiful Boy by John Lennon (this doesn't negate from anyone's representation as a woman or non-binary. it's just a beautiful song)

Me and the Devil by Soap and Skin (the original fits here perfectly too)

A Narnian Lullaby by Harry Gregson Williams