#stayed up for well over 36 hours

[oblivion-wonderlust]

the last hour of le mans this year was more intense than the last 3 seasons of F1 combined holy fuck

[idiopathicsmile]

School Gymnastics: A Tragicomedy

So one day when we were in third grade, our P.E. teacher divided us into girls and boys. (I don’t remember what the boys had to do. Wrestling? Tackle football? I don’t know, probably not at age nine, but that’s not the point. Gladiatorial combat? I still don’t really understand kids’ sports.)

What matters for this story is that all the girls had to do gymnastics. Now—and I suspect this won’t surprise you if you know literally anything about me—I was always terrible at any form of school athletics. I am intensely, almost impressively uncoordinated. This doesn’t affect my life much at 36, but it was often a miserable way to be a kid. The only playground game I liked was playing pretend, because when you are playing pretend, you don’t have a bunch of people ostensibly on your side screaming in your ear, “Pretend faster! Pretend over there! Pretend with greater accuracy!”

Anyway, gymnastics and my clumsy, doughy little body. I couldn’t do a cartwheel. I couldn’t do a backwards somersault. I couldn't do any of it. We had an entire unit on this business and I literally did not learn how to even safely attempt a single move besides the log roll (lie flat and roll sideways on your belly). In retrospect, this seems like maybe it was in part a teaching problem, not a me problem, but that’s actually not the point either.

The point is, at the end of the unit, we were told to divide ourselves into little teams and choreograph a group gymnastics routine. My group, faced with my long list of limitations (more limitation than girl, really) decide my role will be to just forwards-somersault around the rest of the group as they do their moves. (This is itself kind of embarrassing but trust me, it is but the appetizer.) My friend Ashley has the Lion King soundtrack and we all agree that it is a great choice. The movie has only come out a couple of years earlier, and it of course features some funny, peppy options. 'Hakuna Matata'? 'I Just Can't Wait to Be King'? It's all coming together.

Carried on a wave of youthful enthusiasm, none of us even think to double-check which track Ashley has picked. Foreshadowing!

So the day of the performance comes. Another group goes right before us. They had picked “Wannabe” by the Spice Girls, which was a huge hit at the time. I mean, it still is because it’s a classic, but then it was big and new. They step onto the mat and immediately begin to do choreographed dance moves, which they have worked into their routine. We had not thought of this. Oops. Dance moves, of course! So they incorporate the necessary gymnastics, it goes over really well, the energy is high, and now it’s my group’s turn.

I take my place at the edge of the mat, the mat we are required to stay on for the length of the piece. Ashley cues up the track she’d chosen.

A song starts up. Instantly, I recognize it from the movie. It is the very slow instrumental music that plays when Simba realizes his dad is dead.

‘Well, this is not optimal,’ I think. I've been on this planet for nine years; I can see that much. But it’s too late to change the track, and so I tell myself, ‘It’s okay. I’m a performer. I can sell this.’ I put on an extremely solemn face and begin to execute a series of the world’s saddest somersaults.

Friends, when I say “sad” I mean it, in every possible sense of the word. Picture a nine year old with the gravest possible affect, determinedly doing somersaults to the slowest, most serious music she can imagine, in a careful ring around her friends who have actually learned any gymnastics whatsoever. Okay, now as the music starts to pick up and get more hopeful, imagine she gets real dizzy and in front of everyone, she rolls all the way directly off the mat, careening dangerously towards the assembled students.

Somehow, I roll myself back onto the mat, we survive what feels like hours of humiliation, we stagger away, and I blessedly avoid adding “puking my guts out in front of all of my peers” to my very short list of gymnastics tricks.

Later, I asked Ashley what in the world possessed her to choose that song.

“It didn’t have any words,” she said.

(There was absolutely no rule against using songs that had lyrics.)

Anyway, that’s why being an adult is better than being a kid.

I may have to do laundry and make my own dinner and wrestle with more complex existential angst, but you know what I haven’t been asked to do in like 26 years? Somersault for three minutes straight to the musical shorthand for “this cartoon lion cub has no choice but to process the weight of unimaginable grief for his dead dad.” And you know what? If I live another 50 years, I can be pretty confident nobody will ask me to do it then, either.

[sturniolohouse]

That's Life - M.S

A.N: After the stream where Matt said he liked the name June– which has been a name on my baby list for YEARS now – I couldn't stop thinking about this scenario, so I decided to write it. Sorry if it's bad. (I'd also say they are still very young in this, maybe 23/24. But imagine any age you want, I don't really specify.) Hope you enjoy!

summary: dad!matt - a cute snippet of Matt and y/n becoming brand new parents and Chris and Nick meeting their niece for the first time. mainly fluff :')

warnings: none, really. maybe swearing and mentions of blood? (also use of y/n because apparently that is hated? idk)

word count: 2.4k

--

"Kid, hold her fucking neck." Matt panics as Chris readjusts in his seat on the couch.

"Matt shut the fuck up, I think I know how to hold my own niece." he retorts.

"No, you clearly don't you idiot."

I peer to my left, he holds her with one hand under her head and one hand under her butt, propping her in front of him on his lap. She's perfectly fine, Matt just worries.

"Look she's fine. She's with uncle Chris." Chris looks at her adoringly but Matt cautiously watches, biting his nails.

"How are you feeling?" Nick asks beside me, rubbing my shoulder as I eat my burger. I was starving and the first thing I wanted after giving birth was In and Out, so Matt made sure Nick and Chris brought it for me.

"I'm so tired but just relieved everything went okay."

It was a long labor, almost 20 hours and about an hour of pushing. I waited to the very last minute to get an epidural and Matt almost passed out once he saw what it actually was.

-

"That goes in your fucking spine?" He squeaks, his face turning pale as he nearly keels over.

I'm sat up with the anesthesiologist behind me prepping the needle. I grab Matt's forearms and bring him to stand between my legs so he's hunching in front of me before I collapse my head into his chest and groan.

"Don't fucking look at it, hold my hands." I seethe through the pain as I wait for the contraction to pass.

"I'm so sorry," He says into my ear as they stick the catheter into my spine and I stay as still as possible.

"I want In and Out after this is all over," I breath out, beginning to feel my lower half go numb.

"I'm getting you whatever you fucking want, sweetheart." He looks me dead in the eyes.

-

"It's kinda fucking nuts that she was just inside you, how the fuck did you like..." Chris speaks up looking between the baby and me. "Push her out..." He hesitates and I burst out laughing as Matt throws his arms up and shakes his head at him, stopping himself from knocking Chris' shoulder.

"Well, it wasn't easy." I wipe my tears from my eyes due to my laughter and Nick gives me my water so I don't choke on my dry ass fries.

"Women are the strongest people on the planet." Nick chimes and Matt smiles proudly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"That's fucking right. So much respect after all I witnessed." Matt rubs his eyes, seeming to be mentally reflecting the past 36 hours.

"She's so fucking cute, looks nothing like Matt." Chris comments, a small smirk growing on his face at the playful jab.

"Okay, give her back you're pissing me off." Matt quickly but gently takes her back even as Chris protests and pouts, sulking back into his chair.

"Lost your baby holding privileges," Nick points at him as Chris makes a face and sticks his tongue out, a throaty bellow echoing in the hospital room.

Nick immediately hushes him. "Can you not act like a barbarian? Fucking idiot." He scolds him.

Matt cradles her softly and my heart still melts at the sight of him holding her. It makes everything I went through so worth it. The both of them do.

-

I lay there in shock with a wailing baby placed on my chest. I look up at Matt on my left and he's got his hand over his mouth and tears brimming his eyes, staring at our baby with so much love.

My chest blooms with warmth and I look down at our daughter. Anyone else would look at her and think she was gross, being purple, covered in goop and blood, but she was quite literally breathtaking. Matt blubbers and bends down so he's more level to me.

"Oh my fucking god," he laughs through his emotion, wiping his eyes quickly and placing a hand on her blanketed back, her cries dying down.

"How the fuck did you do that? You're amazing oh my god." He rambles, kissing my sweaty hairline and I shake my head not really knowing how I did this either.

They let Matt cut the umbilical cord before taking her off me to bathe her quickly.

Matt grabs my face checking in on me. He scans all over my face,"You okay? You did so good, oh my fucking god." I nod quickly, feeling my adrenaline still rushing. It's a weird feeling to describe, but I am so happy.

"She was so tiny, did you see her?" I ask him, my voice a little shaky and he nods laughing, tears still shining in his eyes.

"I did, I did. She's perfect. Thank you." He kisses my lips this time and then looks over to the nurses bringing her over to him.

"You want to hold her, dad?" The nurse smiles and he visibly pales but nods nonetheless and takes her into his arms.

He looks at her and begins to tear up again, having to compose himself by looking up shaking his head. When he looks back at me, I'm sent me over the edge into my own fit of tears.

I would relive this day over and over again to just see that look on his face.

-

He walks over to Nick who's still beside me, bouncing her slightly.

"Nick, cmon. You've yet to hold her." Matt nods toward Nick to take her from his arms. Nick immediately shakes his head and steps back.

"No she's too fresh and tiny. I don't want to break her." He declines.

"Chris get him the pillow. Nick, hold her. You won't break her I promise you." I give him a reassuring rub on the arm and his eyes widen.

"I'm scared," He squeals quietly as he sits down in the chair and Chris sets up the pillow in his lap. Nick covers his mouth as he watches Matt walk over to him. 

Chris puts a hand on his shoulder, "Nick it's gonna be fine." He giggles at his antics and I stifle my own laughter.

"Dude c'mon, I'm telling you to hold my kid not a bomb." Matt rolls his eyes and Nick flips him off.

Matt places her carefully so she's snug in Nick's arms and he freezes immediately.

"What do I do?" He looks up at me in fear.

"Just that. You're doing fine. See, she's perfectly content in your arms." I tell him softly and grab Matt's arm so he stands next to me.

I kiss his forearm and he looks back at me with a warm smile, wrapping his arm around me and sitting beside me on the bed. He pulls me in gently before kissing the top of my head.

"I'm trying to see any real defining features in her but she quite literally just looks like a baby," he studies her face as Chris takes photos of them.

"She definitely looks more like y/n," Matt says, rubbing my arm lightly before stealing one of my fries from my tray.

"I think she has my nose for sure. She hasn't really opened her eyes yet, maybe you can try and wake her up. The nurse should be coming soon to help me feed her."

"I just realized, what's her name?" Nick asks, lightly rubbing her cheek with the back of his finger to try and wake her.

"Yeah, have you guys finally decided?" Chris sits down next to Nick on the couch.

Matt and I look at each other. We had been debating her name since we first saw her face. Of course we had a list prepared but we didn't want to settle on a name until we could match it to her face.

It was hard agreeing on names at first as we had very different tastes but there was one that kept coming back up in conversation and once we saw her it was a no brainer.

I nudge Matt, "Go ahead, tell them." I lean my head against his shoulder.

"Her name is June," They 'aw' in unison.

"June Iris Sturniolo." Matt tells them her full name and he can't help the smile that spreads across his face. 

"I love that, such a sweet name.” Nick smiles down at her.

"Does it have a meaning? Or did you guys just like the name?" Chris pulls back her hat.

"Holy shit, she has a lot of hair." he comments.

"Explains all of my heartburn." I huff and Matt giggles beside me.

"We liked the name and we were looking at lot of nature names, month names, classic names. We landed on June a few times when going over names but didn't want to make it official until we saw her." I start and Matt nods before speaking up.

"Well, we had some music playing during the whole labor and everything but after Y/N started pushing, our playlist ended and started playing whatever. And right before June came out, the song That's Life by Frank Sinatra played. And in the song, there's a line that goes: You're riding high in April, shot down in May but I know I'm gonna change that tune when I'm back on top, back on top in June. Right when we heard that and then we saw her face, we knew that was her name." Matt concluded and I tear up.

"That's so fucking cool," 

"Stop I have chills, oh my god."

"And Iris was my grandmothers name, but we also liked how it sounded with June. It was proven really hard to find a middle name that sounded good with June and Sturniolo." I laugh.

“I love that her name has a cool story behind it that you can tell her one day.” Nick says and I get emotional thinking about telling my daughter the day of her birth.

"Hi June, you gonna wake up for us?" Chris speaks softly to her. She stays put as Nick and Chris look at her expectantly.

"I wouldn't want to open my eyes either if I were just in a a warm dark place for almost nine months and all of sudden I'm in a bright ass hospital room with a loud idiot." Matt speaks looking directly at Chris.

"She must take that after you," I say playfully and rub his chest. He rolls his eyes.

"Aw, a little Mattitude." Chris uses a baby voice, tickling her belly playfully. “Look she even makes Matt’s stank face he does when he’s mad.” He points.

“Oh my god she does,” Nick exclaims.

"Not to be weird, but you are all basically her father since you have identical DNA. Also if you guys have children one day, they'll be genetically June's half-siblings." I state my fun fact and all their faces drop.

Nick gasps, "Wait, that's actually crazy because I was just going to joke around and say 'aw she has my eye-bags'." His eyes widen and I shrug at him proving my point.

"That's so fucking weird." Matt shakes his head in realization.

Chris acts repulsed, putting a hand up. "Yeah, I don't like thinking about that. I'm no one's father, thank God." He does the sign of the cross.

"Yes. Thank God for that." Matt says shortly.

"I don't know, I think Chris will be a good dad one day." I defend him and Matt gives the side eye. 

"Thank you y/n," He says with a hand over his heart.

He walks over to me and gives me a side hug. I kiss his cheek, offering him a fry and he takes it appreciatively.

"I'm definitely staying the fun uncle." Nick states, turning his attention back to June. "One day, you'll be big enough to stay at Uncle Nick's and I'll get you anything you want without your parents knowing," he says quietly to her but we can all still hear him.

She begins to stir in his arms and he freezes again.

"Oh no, she's waking up. Is she gonna cry?" he panics. "Matt quick, take her."

"She might want the boob," he says taking June out of Nick's hold.

She begins to fuss and squirm but Matt calmly shushes her and begins to bounce lightly.

"It's her feeding time in 15 minutes, should I try without the nurse?" I look up at Matt and he shrugs.

"I don't see why not. She's clearly hungry now."

"Uh, should we leave?" Chris says awkwardly and I wave him off.

"I'm gonna cover myself don't worry. Unless you want to leave," I say nonchalantly, not having a care in the world after just about everyone in this hospital has seen me naked. But of course I won't be flashing anyone.

"Junie don't cry, here's mama. She's got the food." Matt tells her quietly, bringing her to me as Chris clears my lap for me and goes to sit down next to Nick again.

"My baby," I pout as I grab her and her little cries die down once she's in my arms. "You already know the deal sister, let's see if we can do this." I talk to her confidently hoping I can do this on my own.

Matt stands beside helping me cover up and get June in the right position.

"There you go, all better." Matt speaks to her softly as she latches on and I exhale in relief. "Good job, mama." He runs his fingers through my hair and rubs my neck.

The nurse walks in mid-feed and praises me. "Looks like you've got it under control here." She smiles and checks my vitals quickly before stepping back out of the room.

Once June finishes eating I burp her upright on my lap, facing her towards everyone. At this point she's wide awake and everyone is staring at her.

"Oh my gosh, her eyes are like, gray," Nick says. 

"Can she see me?" Chris waves at her, shaking his head and sticking his tongue out.

"Her eyes will most likely change color, they can change up until she's a year." I tell them. "And she can probably see you as a blob, Chris. Stop dancing." I tell him and he stops mid griddy. 

"Oh..." He looks defeated and she burps loudly in that moment, making him laugh. "Why does she burp louder than me, she's like 12 hours old." he jokes.

I feel Matt's hand on my shoulder again and he gives me another squeeze. I look up at him and smile tiredly, he leans down to give me a kiss. Something we rarely do in front of others because we hate PDA. But we can't help it this time.

 I hear a snap of a camera and we both look to see Nick with his film camera.

"I couldn't resist. First family portrait." he smiles softly. "I can't believe you're a father, Matthew."

"Believe it, kid."

"Nick, will you actually take our family photos when we get home." I ask rubbing Junie's back. 

"The fact that you even asked that," he says looking offended and everyone laughs. "Of course I will, though."

[traveler-at-heart]

The Doctor's In - Part 2

Wanda Maximoff x F!R

Summary: After Billy's accident, you go back to the Maximoff house to babysitt the twins.

Time works differently when you’re inside a hospital. That’s true, whether you’re a patient or a doctor.

You measure it in shifts that can extend up to 36 hours. Sometimes you go inside when the sky is dark; by the time you're done it looks exactly the same, and you wonder if the day passed at all.

What’s certain is that you will always run late. Racing around your house, you take your bag, keys and pour coffee on a thermos, carrying a pop tart in your mouth.

You’re so worried with making sure you have everything, you don’t even notice Wanda is at the door until you crash against her.

“I’m so sorry!” you say, the coffee spilling all over your scrubs.

“Oh, my Gosh, is it hot? Are you ok?”

“It’s cold, no worries. Let me get changed, wanna come in?”

You walk back, finding some clean scrubs on a basket near the stairs. Thank God you did your laundry yesterday.

“What’s up, Wands?” you say, changing in the same room. You’re extremely late and can’t afford to go upstairs.

Wanda looks at your smooth skin and toned muscles and blushes, looking away.

“Oh… I… wanted to give you this. Billy drew it the other day. It’s supposed to be you in the hospital”

“That’s so cute” you walk up to her, looking at the drawing over her shoulder. “How’s the arm?”

“It’s good, he’s just itchy”

“Yeah, that happens. Can I keep it?” you ask and she hands you the paper. You put in on the fridge door, a magnet securing the drawing in its place. “I’d love to chat but I gotta run”

Wanda glares when you pick another pop-tart.

“Is that what you call breakfast?”

“I’m late!” you protest with a laugh, taking a bite on your way out.

“Well, come by anytime if you want to have some real food” she offers and you nod, smiling as you get into the car. “Oh, shoot! I forgot to ask. I need a baking tray to put some extra cookies, you wouldn’t happen to have one?”

“It’s your lucky day, my mom gave me one I never use. It’s supposed to be somewhere in the cupboard. There’s a spare key in that ceramic turtle”

“Oh, are you sure? I could come back later”

“No, it’s ok. As a matter of fact, keep it, in case you need anything else” you smile, groaning when your pager goes off again. “Ugh, gotta run! Say thanks to Billy for me”

“Will do” she waves, smiling as you practically put the entire pop-tart in your mouth.

Wanda ignores the regret she feels over not asking for what she really wanted. It wasn’t a baking tray, but some time with you.

—

“Is that your pager or mine?” you say, moaning when Carol’s lips travel lower, pulling your pants down.

“It can wait” she says, leaving open mouthed kisses as you part your legs, your fingers threading through her locks.

“The word emergency is in my job description” you say, reaching out and sighing with relief. “It’s yours”

“Is it 911?”

“Nope”

“Good. Now shut up and let me eat your pussy” Carol says, her tongue darting out to taste you, your hips canting up to move against her mouth.

“Fuck” you say, breathless as you ride Carol’s face. She leaves her place between your legs and you’re about to protest when you feel two fingers stretching you.

“Shhh” she says against your mouth, letting you taste yourself in her lips. “Be quiet for me”

You try to stay quiet, but almost let out a moan when someone knocks on the door of the on call room.

“Doctor Danvers?”

“In a minute” she says, a hand over your mouth. Her fingers pump in and out of you faster and the idea of someone waiting on the other side adds to the thrill. You reach your orgasm with a muffled cry.

“You good?” Carol says with a smile, standing up to get her clothes.

All you can do is nod, waiting for your breathing to go back to normal.

“See you later, pretty girl” she kisses your cheek, going out to meet the resident that was looking for her.

It was cliche, hooking up with someone at the hospital, but of course you had needs and no time to fulfill them outside of this building.

The fact that Carol wasn’t looking for anything serious helped too.

No feelings, no complications.

The rest of your shift goes surprisingly quiet, but you’re still urged to go home when Chief Fury comes across you in the hallway.

Since you leave on time and very well rested, you decide to go for a run as soon as you get home. You enjoy the physical exertion and being outdoors, appreciating the beautiful sunset as you jog around the neighbourhood.

It’s barely getting dark when you reach home, Wanda outside talking on the phone. You wave, but the tense smile she gives back makes you walk to her house instead of yours.

“Everything ok?” you ask as soon as she hangs up.

“Yeah, I had this thing but the nanny cancelled last minute”

“Oh, that sucks, I’m sorry” you look back to your place, and then your eyes meet hers. “Why don’t I take care of the twins for you?”

“I couldn’t possibly ask you to… you just got back from work, you’re probably tired”

“It was an easy shift, for once. Plus, I gather they don’t stay up too late, right?”

“No, it would only be two hours, three tops” she promises and you nod.

“It’s settled then, let me just take a shower real quick”

Wanda nods, her eyes raking over your body. She suddenly wished you’d go for runs more often, as you tend to wear really short shorts that show your toned legs.

“I can’t thank you enough” she says, going back to reality.

“Pancakes are always a good call” you wink, going across the street to your place. “Be right back!”

As you shower and change into more comfortable clothes, a part of you gets nervous over babysitting Billy and Tommy. Sure, you were good when you did your rounds in Peeds, but that didn’t mean anything compared to spending an evening making sure they were entertained enough.

Either way, you can’t back out now, so you cross the street, knocking on Wanda’s door. You’re taken aback by how beautiful she looks with a red skirt and red turtleneck sweater, knee high boots completing the outfit.

“You look amazing” you say, forcing yourself to look at her eyes, but it’s not any better, the make up enhancing her features and those striking green eyes.

“Thank you” she says shyly and you nod, not trusting yourself with your words. Wanda moves aside to let you in and you find Billy and Tommy in the living room.

“Hey, kiddos” you greet and they look at you excitedly.

“Hey, Y/N. Are you gonna hang with us?”

“Yeah, of course! We’ll have some fun” you ruffle Tommy’s hair, and inspect Billy’s cast. “Woah, someone has a lot of stickers”

“All of my classmates gave me one! I still have some space here, wanna pick one out?” the boy says, and you smile. Yeah, he moved on from the scared stage to being the cool kid with the broken arm at school.

“Of course, I’ll have to find some cool sticker in my collection” you promise.

Wanda leads you to the kitchen, showing you around. Your mouth waters at the smell of the pasta she made.

“I won’t be gone for long. They’re supposed to be in bed at 9 but I know they’ll get excited because you’re here so I’ll leave it up to you to decide”

“Alright. I’ll try my best to be the adult in the room”

“And remember…”

“No candy after 8” you repeat and Wanda chuckles.

“I can’t thank you enough, seriously” she says, walking towards the door.

“Not a problem”

The boys go say goodbye to their mom, and you think it’s adorable how they hug her and each give her a kiss on the cheek.

Wanda waves goodbye and you close the door, blushing as you appreciate one last time how amazing she looks in that outfit.

“So, what do the Maximoffs do for fun around here?”

“We watch movies or play videogames”

“Oh, like what? Crash, Spyro?” you say excitedly, because you love videogames and it’s been ages since you’ve played.

“What’s a Spyro?” Billy says, confused.

“What? Dude!”

“Dude!” the twins turn to each other, speaking at the same time. Oh, no.

“Damn it” you curse and they repeat that too. You cover your mouth with your hands, afraid of letting out another word that is way worse. “Alright, don’t speak like that. Only adults can say certain words”

“But Mom doesn’t speak that way either”

“That’s because she’s a very mature person. Come on, I’ll show you the best videogame ever”

While you wait for the game to download on their console, Tommy shows you around the house, Billy close behind.

“Can we have dinner before playing?”

“Sure” you nod, going back to the kitchen where you take plates, serving pasta and juice for the twins while you settle on a can of soda.

“Your mom is the best cook, I swear” you say with your mouth full, making the kids laugh. It’s been forever since you’ve had a homemade meal.

“Do you cook?”

“God, no. My talents are limited to medicine, Billy”

“So, do you eat hospital food?” Tommy says, grossed out and you laugh.

“We have a cafeteria and the food is ok, plus I forget to eat most of the time anyway. But seriously, your mom’s food is to die for. That’s just an expression, obviously”

“She made cookies. Can we have some?”

You look at the clock, and it’s almost 8.

“Alright, one for each”

The twins cheer, eating their pasta and asking you questions, most of them innocent, until…

“Why don’t you have kids?”

You choke on your drink, the boy blissfully unaware of how awkward you feel.

“Oh, well, Tommy… being a surgeon takes a long time. You have to go to school for a lot of years and then work at a hospital. So, there’s not a lot of time left to do other stuff”

Please don’t ask me how babies are made.

Thankfully, the questions stop once you give them a cookie, and they munch on them as you set up the game.

“He’s a dragon!” Billy says, amazed at the little purple creature prancing around the screen. They laugh when Sparks eats the butterflies and you can’t help the grin that’s on your face, remembering your childhood and how you used to spend your days playing.

“Your turn” you hand the control to Tommy, showing him the basic commands. Billy leans against you, asking some questions about the game.

You hold the control on the right side so he can push the buttons on the left once it’s his turn, enjoying the way they celebrate each time they get a chest full of diamonds.

The music of the game is very soothing, and after an hour playing, they’re both struggling to keep their eyes open. One glance at the clock tells you it’s 9:30, so the timing is perfect.

“Anyone tired?”

“No” Tommy lies.

“Really? I was thinking of trying out how strong I am, carrying both of you upstairs”

That makes them giddy and before they can run away, you carry them over your shoulders. The twins kick and scream, laughing as you go up the stairs.

“I’m so strong” you say as you reach the final step, trying to hide how out of breath you are.

“Now go down the stairs!"

“Uh, pass. Brush your teeth, come on” you say.

“Can we wait for mommy to be back?” Billy says before going inside the bathroom.

“Sure thing. Change into your PJs and we’ll read a story while we wait for her”

Of course, by the time they’re tucked in and you’re reading from the book Tommy choose, both boys are struggling to stay awake.

By 9:45 you leave their room quietly, closing the door behind you and going back to the first floor.

Your body is finally catching up to the exhaustion of the day, but you clean the kitchen and scroll through your phone, reading updates for patients and a text from Carol asking about your next shift.

Just when you’re about to answer her, the front door opens. At first, Wanda makes some noise, but upon seeing the quiet in the house, she closes the door softly, removing her boots.

“Hey” you say, leaning against the wall, hands on your pockets. “Had fun?”

“Uh, sorta” Wanda makes a face and you raise an eyebrow. “It was a blind date that went horribly wrong”

“I’m sorry”

“Don’t be” she walks up to you, and you appreciate how short she is, without the heels she’s always wearing. “The restaurant was awful, he was an ass, and I am never ever letting my coworkers set me up with someone again”

You laugh at that, shrugging your shoulders.

“That sucks, especially the part about the food”

“Yeah. I’ll just grab whatever from the fridge”

“Ok. The kids are asleep. We had dinner, played some games and they wanted to wait up for you but it was almost 10. I’ll... uh, leave you to it” you get distracted by the way Wanda bites on a strawberry, your eyes going to her lips.

“Oh, yeah, of course. You must be tired” she says and your mind must be playing you tricks because she sounds disappointed.

You make a face, waiting for her to elaborate.

“Sorry, I just… would you stay while I eat? It would be nice to have pleasant company while I pretend this date never happened”

“Sure. I can definitely have more of your pasta”

This time, Wanda pulls out a bottle of red wine, and you enjoy the taste of it along with the food she made. It feels like the fanciest meal you’ve had in ages, even if it’s just at your neighbours kitchen.

“What about you?” Wanda says between bites.

“What about me?”

“Do you date?” she says with a smile, sipping from her glass.

“No, not really. It’s hard to do it with my crazy work hours. And I’m not sure I’d date another surgeon”

“Why not?”

“Some of them are batshit crazy” you say, making Wanda laugh.

“Oh, this is the first time I’ve laughed this evening”

“Happy to be of service" you raise your glass. "I’m gonna be a doctor for a second and feed my curiosity. Who else has twins in your family?”

“Me”

“What?”

You’ve met her for two years and somehow, you never knew this?

“Yeah, I have a twin brother. He lives across the country” Wanda says.

“That sounds nice. Not the living away part, but having someone to grow up with” you say, thinking about your own childhood. Wanda waits for you to look up, and you explain yourself. “I was an only child, but then my mom remarried when I was eleven. She and her husband had more children but, I don’t know, I never felt part of it”

“Was it something they did?” Wanda says with a soft voice, her hand coming closer to yours.

“Uh, no. My mom’s really nice, and I’m sure she didn’t do anything on purpose… but of course you’ll turn your focus to your youngest children, that’s how it works. I try to be around but it doesn’t feel like I belong. So I’m better at the hospital, working the days away”

“I’m sorry”

“It’s fine, really. Maybe I’ll return her calls one of these days”

“Wow, now I feel special because you answer my texts” she jokes and you nod.

“You are special, Wanda”

The woman blushes, you biting your lip at the beautiful shade of red tinting her cheeks.

In spite of yourself, the alcohol relaxes you and you let out a yawn.

“Someone’s past their bed time”

“Yeah, yeah” you rub your eyes, standing up to wash the dishes.

“Let me” Wanda says, standing between you and the sink. For a moment, you consider pulling her closer and kissing her, but it’s probably the sleep depravation, or the alcohol making you delusional.

“Thanks, Wanda” you stay close, your eyes never leaving her face.

“Thank you, for taking care of them”

“Anytime” you nod, taking a step back before you act on your feelings.

“Text me when you’re home?” Wanda asks and you laugh.

“I live across the street”

“Yeah, but you had wine and you’re tired, one never knows in these cases”

“Fine” you linger on the threshold of the door, smiling as she looks at you. “Night, Wanda”

You wait until you’re home to pull out your phone, smiling as you type.

Y/N: Just got home. Traffic was horrible!

Wanda: Very funny.

Y/N: :)

Wanda: Night, Y/N

[sturniozo]

Our Lips Are Sealed V

Masterlist

“Call me Daddy one more time, Y/N, I fucking dare you.” Chris says over the phone.

I let out a laugh and roll on my side over the bed. “But you’re pretending to be my dad to help me.” I say.

“Do you actually call your dad daddy?” Chris asks.

I laugh again. “It’s possible.”

“I think you’re just trying to mess with me.” He states.

“It’s possible.” I say again.

Chris laughs. “Just try to be serious about this.” He says.

“Okay okay.” I say as I sit back up. “Daddy, I need to talk to you-“

“God damnit, Y/N.” Chris says which causes me to laugh again.

“What? I’m just trying to practice telling my daddy.” I shrug.

“Y/N, I can’t help you if you’re gonna keep doing that.” Chris groans. “Please be serious.”

I sigh. “Fine.”

“Thank you.” Chris says.

“I don’t know how to start.”

“If you didn’t spend the last hour messing around and joking with me, we’d have gotten somewhere by now.” Chris says.

I bite my lip. “I’m sorry.” I mumble.

Chris sighs. “No, it- I didn’t mean it like that. Let’s just start from the beginning.”

“Okay.” I take a breath.

~

“Hey dad…” I say as I pick at the chow mein noodles in my plastic box.

“Hm?” My dad hums in response, not looking up from his food.

“I thought about what I wanted to say.” I start. I take a breath and set down my fork, remembering what Chris and I had practiced.

“Well, what is it?” My dad asks.

“Well, my birthdays in 2 days so… I’ll be 18 then.”

“You wanted to tell me something I already knew?” My dad says, still not looking up from his meal.

“No, I- I just. Well I’ve graduated from school, and I’ll be an adult and I’ll have a job and-“

“This is still all things I already know. What’s the point of the conversation?” My dad asks.

I take a breath. “I’m not gonna be spending the weekends here anymore.” I say, looking down at the table.

My dad’s silent for a moment before asking, “After you find a job?”

I shake my head. “After I turn 18.”

My dad stays silent. He takes a bite of his own noodles and leans back in his seat. I stare at him intensely, waiting for his answer. My palms start to feel sweaty and my heart races.

“Okay.” My dad says.

“What?” I breathe out, unsure if I heard him correctly.

“Okay. You don’t want to be here that’s fine. You don’t have to come here. I can take you home right now if you want.”

“No, dad that’s not what I meant. I-“

“You don’t want to be here. You’d rather be with your mother.”

“Dad-“

“I get it.”

“Dad please-“

“I don’t want you here either.”

My breath stops for a moment. I close my mouth and stare back down at my plastic box of chow mein noodles.

“You’re a lot- you’re just.” My dad sighs. “You’re nothing like I thought having a daughter would be.”

I stay silent. My food starts to look disgusting to me. My dad says nothing, starting to pick at the vegetables in his own noodles.

I get up from the table and walk away, down the hall and to my bedroom. I close the door behind me and lay down on my bed, closing my eyes.

I lay in my bed for what feels like hours when I feel my phone buzz under my pillow. I reach my hand under and grab my phone, staring at the notification from Chris.

Chris 💩💕

How’d it go?

I don’t answer, not even opening the message. I just slide my phone back under my pillow. I roll over to the other side, facing the wall and clutching my blanket over my body.

I must have fallen asleep, because when I open my eyes my phone is buzzing in the same rhythm as before, and the sun had already set, leaving my room dark. I groggily sit up and take my phone out from under my pillow. 2 am. 14 messages from Chris, 36 messages from Nate, 4 missed calls from Nate, and Chris currently calling.

I lean my head against the wall and answer the call. “Hey.” I say.

“What’s wrong, what happened? Your brother’s freaking out you haven answered for hours.” Chris says.

“I fell asleep.”

“How’d it go with your dad?” Chris asks.

“Fine. I told him I’m not coming back and he was fine with it.”

“Just like that? He’s fine with it?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s surprising.” Chris says.

I laugh. “Yeah, you’re telling me.”

“So you’re coming back Sunday night?” Chris asks.

“Yeah, I am.”

“You should probably call Nate, he’s been freaking out.” Chris says.

“Jesus, I just fell asleep.”

“Yeah, but you almost never sleep at your dad’s house.” Chris says while laughing.

It’s true. This place gives me the creeps. The carpet, the walls, the bed. I just can’t seem to ever sleep here. “I was tired.” I tell Chris.

“Okay, well tell Nate that. I’ll see you Sunday.” Chris says.

“See you Sunday.” I say and hang up. I immediately go to call Nate, who picks up before the first ring is finished.

“Y/N, are you good?” Nate asks. “Why’s it take you so long to answer? What happened? What’s wrong?”

“I told my dad I want going to be spending the weekend with him anymore.” I tell Nate.

“And? What did he say?” Nate asks eagerly.

I take a breath. “He doesn’t want me to come back either.”

Nate sighs. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

I shake my head. “He told me himself.”

“Those words?”

“Those words.” I say softly.

Nate pauses on the other side of the call. There’s nothing but silence from both ends for what feels like hours. Then he says, “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t want to be here anyways.” I say back.

“I know, but I also know you’re not happy with this.”

I sigh. “I should have said it differently. I should have asked him what he felt before I said anything.”

“It’s not you, Y/n.” Nate says.

“I have a hard time believing that.” I say back. It’s always me. Every failed relationship with anybody I’ve ever known had been my fault. I didn’t communicate well, I didn’t understand, I didn’t get it.

“When are you coming home?” Nate asks.

“I’m not sure.” I respond. “Dad said he’d take me back today if I wanted, but that was at dinner.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I think I’ll just go home Sunday night. I don’t want to bring anything else up to dad.”

I hear Nate’s breath on the other end of the call. “Okay.” He says. “Do you want me to stay in call with you or are you going to sleep?” He asks.

“I think I’m just gonna go to sleep.” I tell him.

“Okay. Goodnight, kiddo.” He says.

“Goodnight Nate.” I say. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” He says back before hanging up.

Once the call drops, I immediately go to the contact I’ve hesitated to call so many times. The call picks up almost immediately.

“Hey.” Chris says. “What’s up? Did you talk to Nate?”

“Yeah I did.” I tell him.

“Is everything all right?” Chris asks.

“Yeah.” I say softly. “Can you… can you stay on call with me through the night?” I ask.

Just from the sound of his voice I knew he was smiling. His pretty smile that makes me melt every time I see it. “Of course.”

TAGS: @bernardenjoyer @sturniolosreads @mbbsgf @xxsadlovexx @whicked-hazlatwhore @sturnsgirl @keira324 @stuniolobbg @timmyscomputer @meg-sturniolo @sturnioloenthusiast @nickdevora @hearts4chris @carolinalikesthings @mattscokewhore @tillies33ssss @junnniiieee07 @urfavpouge @savageking3 @tastesousweet @jko3005 @sturniolo0ntop @dwalk41202 @stvrnise @iloveneilperry @luvmxtt @blueeyedbesson @iloveurgf @mattswifr @that-chris-girl01 @sturniolho

[oskea93]

Kansas Anymore (1)

Tyler Owens x OC

Summary: In which Riley Owens, the ex-wife of the infamous Tornado Wrangler, has 36 hours to come to terms if moving to a whole new country with their small daughter is something she truly wants to do.

Warnings: Cursing, angst, suggested smut, fluff.

If you would like to be tagged, just drop a comment ❤️

“Darling, I don’t understand why he’s making you come to him when he’s perfectly capable of flying out to see her. Is he afraid he’s going to miss a gust of wind and all his little cronies on the internet will stop following his every move?” My mother’s frustration was palpable, her voice cutting through the hum of the car engine.

I stayed silent, the roar of the car on the two-lane road answering in my place. My mother’s loud sigh sounded through the speakers; a noise filled with years of pent-up exasperation. “I’ve never seen a man so self-centered as that one – going around chasing tornados like some kind of deranged jackass.”

An innocent chuckle sounded from the seat behind me. I glanced in the rearview mirror to see Caroline’s little hands folded in front of her face, her bright eyes staring out the window at the passing scenery. The sight of her brought a small smile to my lips, even as my mother’s words lingered in the air.

“Mom, it’s just how he is,” I finally said, my voice tinged with resignation. “Tyler’s always been about the thrill, the excitement. He’s never been one for settling down or thinking about anyone else’s needs.”

“And yet, here you are, always the one making the effort,” she replied, her tone softening slightly. “It’s just not fair to you or to Caroline. She deserves to have her father in her life, not just in fleeting moments when it suits him.”

I leaned my head into the headrest, feeling the weight of the conversation starting to drain me. “Yeah, well, that’s the way we decided, and it’s worked so far,” I replied, my voice lacking its usual conviction.

Mom’s response was immediate, her concern piercing through the speakers. “Well, are you going to tell him that this might be the last time he gets to see her for a while? You have to let him know about your promotion – you can’t just drop that you’re moving to another country with the man’s child over the phone or in a message, Riley.”

I sighed deeply, frustration washing over me. “I know, Mom. It’s just... complicated. Tyler’s never been good with this kind of news. He’ll probably accuse me of trying to take Caroline away from him, even though he’s the one who’s always too busy to be around.”

Mom stayed silent for a moment; her pause filled with unspoken thoughts. “Well, it’s his loss anyway,” she finally said, her voice matter of fact. “I know of plenty of children that grew up without a father and they are doin—”

“Tyler’s always gonna be in Caroline’s life, Mom,” I interrupted, my voice raising just a bit, careful not to get too loud in front of my daughter. “I would never take her away from him – no matter how far away we are from each other.”

My mother sighed on the other end. “I’m just looking out for my granddaughter is all.”

“And I appreciate that, but this is between Tyler and me – not you or anyone else I’m sure you’re gonna blab to.”

My mother huffed on the other end, clearly taken aback by my bluntness. “Riley, I’m only trying to help. You know how much I care about you and Caroline.”

“I know, Mom,” I said, rubbing my temple as I tried to keep my frustration in check. “But I need to handle this my way. Tyler and I need to figure this out ourselves.”

“Fine,” she relented, though her tone still carried a hint of disapproval. “Just promise me you’ll keep me updated.”

“I will,” I assured her. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

“Don’t forge-,” The call ending before she could finish the sentence.

The car returned to a peaceful state – the only sound heard being that of the show playing on the monitor built into the driver’s seat. The same cartoon that Caroline had been watching for the past two months. Her laughter and the occasional gasp of excitement were the background music to my thoughts as I navigated the familiar streets.

“There’s Daddy’s sign!” Caroline’s voice pierced through my reverie, her little finger pointing eagerly at the familiar landmark.

The fueling station’s parking lot was filled with vehicles that strived to get on the same level as Tyler – the amateurs were always my favorite to watch – trying so hard to get to his attention but backing down once the storm got too close for comfort. Most of them just crowded around him and the gang to witness the spectacle that they displayed. Tyler was the Tornado Wrangler – a title that nearly cost him his life on multiple occasions and demolished our marriage in an F4 fashion.

Tyler’s passion for chasing storms had always been a point of contention between us. The danger, the unpredictability, the constant threat – it was a lifestyle I could never fully accept. And yet, here I was, bringing Caroline to see her father, the man who danced with tornadoes and lived to tell the tale.

I slowly pulled behind a group of professional vehicles, a far cry from noticeable red truck that sat feet away as the man of the hour towered over those in attendance – Boone and Dani passing out t-shirts to those around.

Caroline’s smile never faltering as she kept her eyes on her father, “Daddy’s being silly.”

I couldn’t help but smile at her reaction – a reaction only Tyler could evoke. “Daddy’s always silly, isn’t he?” Her head nodded enthusiastically. I placed the car in park and started gathering my purse, the sound of Caroline’s car seat buckles clanging as she hastily unbuckled herself. “Hold your horses, munchkin.”

She was already halfway out of her seat, her small hands fumbling with the door handle. Her excitement was infectious, and despite my reservations about Tyler’s lifestyle, moments like these made it all seem worth it. I took a deep breath and stepped out of the car, the warm summer air wrapping around us.

Caroline bounced out of the car, her eyes wide with anticipation. She grabbed my hand, pulling me towards the crowd where Tyler was still holding court. Boone and Dani noticing us first, their faces breaking into welcoming smiles. It had been over a year since I had seen them in person, their kindness towards me never faltering even after the divorce was finalized.

“If you feel it—” Tyler’s bright smile beamed out to the audience, a real showman.

“Chase it!” The crowd shouted back, including the four-year-old at my side, catching her father’s attention in a matter of seconds.

I watched as he hopped down from the truck, the sea of onlookers parting like the Red Sea as his arms wrapped around her small body.

Caroline squealed with delight as Tyler lifted her into the air, spinning her around before pulling her close for a tight hug. Her laughter echoed through the parking lot, a sound so pure and joyous that it made everything else fade into the background.

"There's my little storm chaser," Tyler said, his voice filled with warmth. He gently set her down, and she looked up at him with wide, excited eyes. "Did you have a good flight?"

Caroline's head nodded excitedly. "Mommy yelled at the man sitting behind us because he kept hitting the back of her seat," she blurted out, her eyes wide with innocence. Tyler chuckled, glancing at me with a raised eyebrow. "Is that so?"

I sighed, a bit embarrassed, but unable to suppress a smile. "Well, he was being rude." My shoulders shrugged. "Someone had to put him in his place."

Tyler shook his head, the smile I had fallen for years ago plastered on his scruffed face. "Riled up Riley," he teased, his eyes connecting with mine. "Glad you're sharing that with others and not just me."

I rolled my eyes playfully but couldn't help the warmth that spread through me at his words. "You know me, always fighting the good fight."

Tyler nodded, his gaze lingering on Caroline for a moment before he turned back to me. "Thanks for bringing her out here."

"No problem," I said, watching as Caroline laid her head on his shoulder, her tiny fingers gripping his shirt. "She’s been talking about it all week – about drove me crazy, to be honest." We both chuckled, sharing a moment of amusement.

Tyler's eyes softened as he looked down at Caroline, who was now playing with the collar of his shirt. "I'm glad she's excited. I’ve missed her so much." He gently kissed the top of her head, and she giggled softly.

“She missed you too," I said, my voice quiet but filled with emotion.

The unavoidable conversation of Caroline and I leaving the US for dreary old England was pushed to the wayside for the moment. This was Tyler’s moment with her – I didn’t want to ruin it before it truly even started.

[phoward89]

Banner by me, dividers by @saradika-graphics

Coriolanus Snow might be a heartless monster, but he'll always be yours. You'll always be his obsession. And that was one thing that Dr. Gaul underestimated her protege about: his obsession with you.

Masterlist here

Heartless Pt. 2

Coriolanus always thought that if he ever laid eyes on you again that he'd kill you. Wrap his hands around your neck, squeeze, and watch your life force drain out of you. He always thought that he'd look deep into your eyes until they glazed over with the death that he brought you.

But Coriolanus never thought that when he saw you again that he'd be keeping vigil at your bedside, watching your ashen form weak and in an endless sleep, while rocking your- his newborn son in his arms.

A son that he only found out about when your older brother called him up, frantic.

That call changed everything. It replayed in his mind on an endless loop as he stared at you, hopelessly willing you to open your eyes.

Coriolanus was sitting in his office in the lab. He finally got promoted from intern to assistant. Coriolanus was right underneath Dr.Gaul; he was proud of how quickly he was promoted.

7 months of hard work had paid off. He now had power, authorization to top secret projects and documents, and a large say so when it came to gamemaker duties. His work was very important to him; he had the steel spine that it took to make the hard decisions that some other game make s and interns turned green about.

Coriolanus Snow was rewarded because he was a heartless monster that did anything to get the result that he needed. That he wanted. He would do anything to see the games remain a success, even if that meant proposing some measures that would make the game a total spectucal.

Dr. Gaul approved of all of his ideas and suggestions. And the one that she pushed for, well he approved of and pressured the other low level gamemakers into approving it too.

It was genius, his mentor’s idea.

Having all children born on District Peacekeeper Bases be registered as a district citizen belong to the district of their birth instead of being granted automatic Capitol citizenship would ensure that their was a larger participation pool for the games; it also prevented too many officers from muddying their Capitol blood with that of district scum.

Coriolanus was looking over a chart for a mutt experiment whenever his private office phone started to ring.

Ring, ring ring…Ring, ring, ring…Ring, ring, ring…

Oh no, was Grandma'am’s memory worsening? Was she giving Ma Plinth a hard time? God, he hopes not.

Ring, ring, ring…

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he let out a deep sigh before picking up the phone. “Assistant Gamemaker, Coriolanus Snow. Whom may I be speaking with?”

“Snow, it’s Officer Rein Halvir, Y/N’s older brother. I'm calling because I need you to get to the base in District 12 right away. Y/N’s been in labor for nearly 36 hours, the doctor won't do a cesarean because Dr. Gaul put into effect a new policy that surgical resources can only be used for peacekeepers and not any civilians living on base, and it's not looking good, Coriolanus.”

“What?...” Was all Coriolanus could say. He was stunned. You could possibly be dying in childbirth? With a child he didn't know about? And on a district base.

On a district base.

Oh no! Not that!

“She was afraid to tell you, Snow. You had her terrified with the stalking: nonstop roses and jewelry. Our mother sent her to stay with me. Once it was announced that children born on district bases would be district citizens and eligible for the games, I tried to get her to go back to the Capitol, but mother refused to let her come back. I even told Y/N to call you; try to work things out with you, but she refused. Said that you never loved her; wouldn't care what happened to her or the baby.”

“I’ll talk to Dr. Gaul about approving a cesarean for Y/N right away.” Coriolanus told Rein as his dead heart started to bleed.

“Thank you, Snow.” Rein replied, a hint of gratefulness in his normally stern tone. “Will you be coming to the base? To see-” your brother began to ask, only for your ex to cut him off with, “I’ll be there, but only because I don't want my child raised in such a filthy, mud hole of a district as 12.”

Coriolanus didn't say another word. Just hung up his phone.

Machines beeped, monitoring you as you slept. Coriolanus felt that you looked dead, not asleep. He was so angry. You weren't supposed to be unconscious in your bed. You were supposed to be up, sitting in bed, holding your baby. You were supposed to scream and cry at him when he walked into your room. You weren't supposed to be just lying there, hanging in-between life and death.

Not when he had faxed the paperwork with Dr. Gaul's signature for the approval of your emergency cesarean.

You were supposed to be okay. You and the baby both. Not just the baby.

As Coriolanus watched you, waiting for a sign of life, he got lost in the recent memory of when he first saw you again.

When Coriolanus got off the train at the District 12 depot, he thought your brother would be there to greet him, but he was wrong. Instead, he had to make his own way to the District 12 base. Thank God he knew where it was, from his short stint as a peacekeeper, otherwise he'd be lost.

The walk to the base was long and grueling. He’d forgotten how far off the base was from the train depot. From the main part of the district itself.

Once he reached the on base hospital, he inquired about your whereabouts and was told where to find you. When he walked into your room, he was expecting you to be tired, but conscious. He even thought you'd be holding or nursing the baby.

Coriolanus never thought he'd walk into your room only to see you hooked up to a machine with your brother’s girlfriend (some district trash he picked up at the hob) by your side. A baby bassinet between your bed and her chair.

She introduced herself as Ashlie (didn't give a surname, not like he cared) and gestured to the bassinet, only to tell him, “That's your son, Cassian Xandros.”

Cassian Xandros.

A name befitting a Snow heir.

“You may go now. I'll watch over her.” Coriolanus told the skinny girl, who looked to be from the Seam. He didn't even bother to introduce himself. He just wanted her to go so he could- hell he didn't know, he guessed sit by your bedside until you woke up, but he didn't want some district whore watching him as he sat by your bedside with your son.

His son.

Cassian Xandros.

Ashlie nodded, a pitiful look in her eyes. She felt bad for both you and Coriolanus, but was too afraid to voice her opinion. The Seam girl just scurried out of the room, leaving Coriolanus alone with you and your son.

She didn't know much about what happened between the two of you, just what Rein told her. And your brother didn't share much since he only knew the handful of facts that you shared with him.

What both Rein and Ashlie knew for certain was that your son with his pure Capitol blood and fine Snow linage was doomed for a chance to fight for his life in the infamous death battle royale known as the Hunger Games all because he was born on Peacekeeper Base-12.

Her heart broke for you, Coriolanus, and your son because no matter if you lived or died, well the platinum blonde father would never be able to bring his son home to the Capitol with him. District born citizens of Panem were forbidden to travel outside of their district of birth unless it was to be delivered to the Capitol as a tribute for the annual Hunger Games. Due to the new rules and laws put into place regarding children born on bases being registered at birth as a citizen of the district of the base, your son was forbidden to leave District 12.

If you die, well, Coriolanus will have to give Cassian Xandros up to Rein (and Ashlie) to raise. That subject’s the reason why your brother’s avoiding Snow.

Once your brother's girlfriend had left, Coriolanus sat down in the chair she had once been occupying. He sadly sighed as he took in your condition.

When his eyes landed on his son, he felt pride well up in his chest. The boy, Cassian Xandros, had his natural platinum blonde hair.

He looked just like him.

Was his little mini me.

He gently picked up his baby boy and cradled him to his chest. When Cassian began to stir Coriolanus rocked him. “Don't worry, son, I got rid of the evil lady that tried to take you and your mother away from me.”

Cassian blinked his eyes open, revealing them to be blue. Coriolanus smiled at his son, seeing that he had striking blue eyes, and told his son, “You're mine and your mother's mine. Nobody ever takes what's mine and gets away with it.”

The baby just blinked at his father, not understanding anything he was saying since, after all, he was just a newborn, and then scrunched his nose. He then closed his eyes and went to sleep in his father's arms.

His father's murderous, monstrous arms.

When your eyes fluttered open, Coriolanus felt a sense of relief he didn't know possible. After not knowing if you'd ever wake up, seeing your beautiful eyes again was like heaven.

And to think that he had once vowed to kill you if he ever crossed your path again. But that was when he thought you gave up on him.

No, things changed when he realized that you were trying to protect the Snow heir because you felt unsafe after that package you recieved.

That damn package Dr. Gaul, his mentor, had sent you. A tape with a letter persuading you that he was incapable of loving you.

A letter he didn't know about until Dr. Gaul let it slip when he approached her about signing off on your emergency cesarean forms.

Too bad she let it slip…Well, too bad for her since it ended her career. And ended her too, by the hands of her most prized prodigy.

The memory makes Coriolanus smile as it washed over him like a warm waterfall.

Coriolanus strode into Dr. Gaul's private lab, where she had her latest deadly mutt experiment in a terrarium, with one mission in mind. To get Dr. Gaul's approval for your cesarean.

He might hate you for leaving, but he didn't want you to die in childbirth with his baby. He didn't want you and your child to succumb to the same fate as his mother and baby sister.

Not when he could help it.

He was a child when his mother and baby sister died during child birth in the Dark Days, he was helpless when it came to their fate.

But now Coriolanus was a man, a very successful one that had cunning, wits, and charm to carry him far. He had an endless supply of money too. He was no longer helpless when it came to the fate of his- well his heir and it's mother during a deadly childbirth.

Coriolanus now has the means to beat fate when it came to death in the birthing bed; he was going to make sure that you and his heir did not share the same fate his mother and baby sister all those years ago during the war.

“Dr. Gaul, I need you to sign off on an emergency cesarean for Miss Y/N Halvir. She's at the military hospital ob Peacekeeper Base-12.”

“Hippity, hoppity, looks like Snow's melting for a baby boppity.” Dr. Gaul sing-songed in a mocking cackle as she watched the mutts moving around in their tank.

They looked agitated, starved even, as their colorful bodies slithered around, sharp claws scratching their glass enclosure, and sharp teeth gnashing and snapping.

The mad scientist was teasing them by holding a bucket full of food, pulling a rodent from it and dangling it by the glass terrarium. She was teasing them, gauging their reaction to her lunchtime torture.

She had snatched away her most successful experiment’s most desperately wanted meal before he could eat; Dr. Gaul had even spoon fed him a meal that was just as good, but not what he wanted. It was what he needed, what she needed him to have to be the monstrous creature she wanted by her side to do her bidding.

She enjoyed teasing and taunting her experiments.

The only creatures of hers that she actually fed were her eels. But…they were more like beloved, dangerous, pets then mutts at this point since Dr. Gaul's had them for so many years.

Dr. Gaul placed the squirming mouse back into the bucket, turning away from the glass tank to look at Coriolanus. “No.” She simply said before walking across the lab to shelf the bucket of rodents.

She'd have an assistant feed the baby anthropomorphic reptiles in the terrarium later, after she shooed away her favorite creation, Mr. Snow, and had her milk and crackers.

“No?” Coriolanus parroted, his tone full of disbelief.

How dare she tell him no? He wasn't asking her to authorize a procedure on anyone, but the mother of his child.

“But, Dr. Gaul, without the procedure Y/N and the baby might die.”

“If they die then they die, Coriolanus.” The mad scientist shrugged nonchalantly. “Death is a natural part of life. If someone weaker or lesser than is removed from the cycle of life then it just proves that their contribution to the ecosystem would not have mattered. Death is the natural way of purging those creatures that are useless in the world.”

Coriolanus could not believe what he was hearing. His mentor was giving him a lecture on why he needed to let the mother of his child and his heir die.

Was he supposed to agree with her?

Well, he couldn't do that.

He didn't want his heir to die.

And you…well…he wanted to be the one that killed you. For leaving him, of course.

“I'm not talking about weak helpless creatures, I'm talking about-” Coriolanus began to say, only for the mad scientist to cut him off with a scoff.

“The little girl that left you over a few words of warning penned in a letter and your damning tape of your best friend Sejanus’ rebel plot. Her bastard offspring that’ll be as weak hearted as its mother. That's who you're talking about, Mr. Snow.” Dr. Gaul told, not asked, Coriolanus as she crossed her lab. Going over to where she had a small table with crackers and milk set up for her snack.

A letter? What letter? He knew about the tape, but not a letter. You never told him about the letter.

“Might as well be weak helpless creatures, considering their dire circumstances and the lowly district they're in.” The mad woman added in as a slight after thought.

“I never told you she received a letter.” Coriolanus, who had figured out what Dr. Gaul has done, told the scientist while following her. His floor shines clicked heavily against the linoleum floor as he told her, “The only way you'd know would be if you sent it.”

Taking a seat at her small snack table, the scientist with wild, frizzy hair, giggled, “Oh, yes, you see, it was indeed me that sent the weak little girl that care package.” Reaching for her napkin and snapping it open, she evilly grinned, “Miss Y/N Halvir and the bastard she carries would only have held you back.” Setting her napkin on her lap, she explained, “The feelings they would have invoked in you would only make you weak.” Giving her protege a proud smile, she giddily announced, “I only made you stronger by removing an element not needed in your life at the moment.” Reaching for a cracker that was on a plate, Dr. Gaul failed to see the rage in Coriolanus' blue eyes. Perhaps if she did, she wouldn't have said, “You should be thanking me, for making you stronger and more powerful then you could have been months ago with the weakness of that stupid girl and the vile creature she's incubating.”

Hearing Dr. Gaul calling you stupid and calling his child a vile creature was the final straw that broke the camel's back. Coriolanus was barely hanging onto his sanity when he realized that Dr. Gaul made you leave him, made you want to protect his child from any dangers (including him) because of a letter and a tape she sent you. But the moment she insulted you, the woman that has consumed his thoughts and has been his obsession since his freshman year in the Academy, and his child in a way that made you seem inhuman, well, he snapped.

He was blinded with rage as he pounced on the mad scientist, catching her off guard and causing her to fall backwards; off her chair.

Coriolanus kneeled over her while wrapping his hands around her throat.

“Y/N was mine, you knew she was mine, and you took her from me! You took her and our child from me when you knew all I wanted was a life with her!” Coriolanus wildly exclaimed as he choked the life out of Dr. Gaul.

“Everything I've ever done was all for her! I needed to win the Plinth prize for her, for our life together, and I had to find a way out of the Peacekeepers, out of 12, for her! You knew that and still, you made her think she meant nothing to me; made her view me as a monster and leave me!” The platinum blonde ranted as his long fingers pressed so hard into the dark skinned woman’s neck that the bones began to crack.

Dr. Gaul gasped for air as her lungs felt like they were going to explode. Her eyes were wide and frenzied with the horrific realization that her favorite mutt, the monster she molded and shaped, had turned on her all because somewhere deep down inside of his black, dead heart, he still had a space reserved for his childhood sweetheart.

The blood vessels in Dr. Gaul's eyes burst due to the pressure Coriolanus was applying to her airway. He smirked wickedly as he watched the life drain from her.

“Snow lands on top.” Was the last thing Dr. Gaul heard before she died and went straight to hell.

Coriolanus, upon seeing that the evil scientist was dead, quickly tossed her into the pool of eels to cover up the crime.

Then he forged her signature on the documents needed for your cesarean; faxed them to the hospital on the base in District 12. He also made a quick note in her desk planner stating that he had to take an emergency family leave due to the birth of his first child. It was the perfect alibi to cover his tracks. Nobody would question his whereabouts if they thought Dr. Gaul herself authorized your emergency cesarean, authorized his family leave as well.

You were weak as you took in the bright artificial lights of your hospital room. When you tried to sit up, you were gently stopped by a large hand you hadn't seen in months. “You need to rest, darling. You're still weak.” A baritone you never thought you'd ever hear again told you.

Looking towards the voice, you saw Coriolanus sitting by your bedside with your baby in his arms. Your heart stopped beating and all you could say was, “My baby.”

You didn't know if you were afraid that your ex was holding your son or overwhelmed with a sick sense of joy, but all you knew was that you wanted your baby.

“Our baby, Y/N.” Coriolanus corrected you before standing and placing the newborn into your awaiting arms.

As you held your son to your chest, you shuddered and began crying. The last thing you remember was passing out and when you woke up…well…you had no idea what happened to the baby.

“Did my brother call you?” You asked, realizing that's the only way Coriolanus would know where to find you. Honestly, you were shocked he even came when Rein called.

“Yes.” The platinum blonde nodded. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he wrapped an arm around your back and promised, “As soon as your cleared to leave, I'm bringing you and Cassian Xandros home with me, to the Capitol.”

Looking between your son, nestled soundly in your arms, and his father, you sadly sighed, “Cassian's district, Coriolanus. He was born on base; he won't be allowed on the train.”

“Don't worry about that, my darling rose. I promise, our son will be allowed to return to the Capitol with us.”

You doubted your ex’s words, but nodded anyways.

Little did you know that Coriolanus threatened to kill the nurse’s family who gave him the registration papers for your son if he was marked down as anything, but born in Capitol General.

Like hell was his son, his heir, going to be district. His son wasn't going to grow up in a filthy mud hole. And he sure as hell wasn't going to be fighting for his life in the games.

Coriolanus kills so that his son, Cassian, doesn't have to.

So, folded up neatly in his pocket was a birth certificate that falsely states that Cassian Xandros Snow was born at Capitol General, in Capitol City, Panem.

Even tho Coriolanus Snow was a heartless monster, he was yours. He’s always been obsessed with you and now that you share a child with him, well, even the devil couldn't keep you and your son from him.

After all, he did send the wicked witch of the Citadel to hell for you and his son.

Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22, @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops, @bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi, @gracieroxzy, @belcalis9503, @shari-berri, @aoi-targaryen, @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons , @qoopeeya , @mfnqueen1

[sl-ut]

tipsy

pairing: jake lockley x fem!reader, slight marc spector and steven grant x fem!reader (reader is in a relationship with the system)

description: y/n returns from a night out with her girls and can’t resist from how beautiful her boyfriend is.

warnings: SMUT, reader is intoxicated (just tipsy, not wasted) and kind of a bitch, mocking, oral (m receiving), shower sex, moonboys arguing

words: 3K

date posted: 18/01/23

The apartment was silent when Jake jolted awake, save for the bubbling of Gus’s fish tank and the faded roar of London’s nightlife. He groaned, neck clicking back into place as he leaned back into the desk chair, cursing at Steven for nodding off in such an uncomfortable position. His sight was fuzzy, eyes still heavy with sleep as he glanced at his surroundings; several books on Egyptology laid spread open across the top of the desk, an uncapped highlighter tossed carelessly on the floor and a series of fluorescent yellow smudges staining his fingertips. Sighing, he pushed himself away from the desk, leaving it exactly how he found it–Steven could clean up his own mess–as he reached into the cupboard for a bottle of amber whiskey. 

He took three small sips from it, careful not to allow himself to feel any sort of strong effects from the alcohol, as he always did when Y/n went out with her friends, always prepared to go pick her up in the early hours of the morning if he needed. He glanced at the clock on the oven, squinting to read the bright green letters.

3:36 AM.

His eyes immediately shot over to the bed, alarmed when he found the blankets in the same haphazardly made fashion that Steven had left them in as he rushed out the door to work; the boys had quickly learned to do so in order to avoid a lecture from their girlfriend. 

“Damn it Steven, you were supposed to stay awake until she got home,” He swore as he turned to meet Steven’s snarky stare in the reflection of the window. 

I’m sorry, but she’s not normally out this late, Steven huffed, Usually a night out has her home and in bed by midnight.

Jake, He turned his head to find Marc in the reflection of Gus’s tank, He's right, she should be home by now.

Panic arose in his chest. Quickly, he abandoned the bottle of whiskey on the desk as he crossed the small studio apartment, forcing himself through the closed bathroom door. He called her name frantically, catching Steven once again in the bathroom mirror.

I’m sure she’s alright, maybe she called after I nodded off.

Jake nodded, turning into the bedroom and pausing. The personal cell phone that they all shared was not in its usual place on the bedside table, nor was it in the pants that Steven had worn to work that day, or small pocket inside his satchel. Jake ignored the Brit’s yelling of discontent as he watched him dump the contents of his brown leather bag on the floor, searching through the mess of papers and granola bar wrappers.

“Where the hell did you leave it, Steven?”

He stopped in his tracks at the sound of a key shakily being jammed into the lock, trained eyes watching as the lock began to turn and the door slowly creaked open, and finally letting out a breath of air as he watched his girlfriend stumble over the threshold of the apartment. 

“Helloooooo,” She sang out, jumbled giggled falling from her lips, “I’m here, somebody come love me, please!”

Jake shook his head as he stifled his chuckle, stepping forward and into the dim lighting provided by Steven’s desk lamp. His eyes did a quick scan over her body, searching for any sign of blood or injury, though the only sign of a struggle was the long run in her tights and her lack of shoes.

Her eyes lit up at the sight of him, though a mischievous grin spread across her cheeks as she leaned across the back of the couch, “Well hey there, big boy.”

He smirked, copying her posture as he rested his shoulder against one of the many vertical beams. He could tell by the way that she was looking at him that she was attempting to figure out exactly who she was talking to. Her eyes flickered over to the desk, taking in the dishevelled appearance of the books and the man who had once been sitting there. 

“Are you just gonna stand there?”

He nodded at her, refusing to speak so that she would need to guess which one of the three it was. On a regular day, it would be easy for her, but in her state it might have been more difficult. 

“Well,” she slid forward to stand in front of the desk, “These are all Steven’s books here, but from the looks of them,” she fingered at the crumpled and folded pages before glancing over her shoulder at him, “And you, he fell asleep.” She turned, pushing the books back so that she could boost herself onto the edge of the wooden desk, “But Steven doesn’t drink whiskey.”

Jake nodded once more as she gazed at him through hooded eyes, slowly fluttering her lashes in a manner that she knew would have any of them weak in the knees. He shifted, crossing his arms over his chest to mock the way that Marc might stand. 

“Hi Jake.”

He scoffed, dropping his arms as he crossed the room to stand right in front of her. He allowed her to tug him closer, wrapping her legs around his waist and sliding her hands over his arms to knead his biceps gently. 

“How’d you know it wasn’t Marc?”

She smirked up at him, leaning closer to whisper into his ear, “You didn’t look grumpy enough.”

His head rolled back as a hearty laugh rumbled out of his chest, growing even deeper as Marc shouted in protest and Steven agreed with her. 

“Oh,” He rested his hand on his belly, “He didn’t like that, princesa.”

She shrugged, leaning forward to nudge his nose with her own, “He can punish me for it later. But for now…” Her hands slid down his arms, around his back and landed just above his bum as she tightened her legs around him, “I’m all yours.”

He allowed her to press a warm, sloppy kiss to his awaiting lips, but didn’t allow it go any further as she began to wiggle against him. 

“We were worried about you,” He told her, “You’re usually home a lot earlier.”

“I know,” She shrugged, “I called and texted.”

“I couldn’t find the phone,” He admitted.

She raised a brow as she glanced down, nodding in the direction of where the phone was almost entirely covered in scattered paper, save for the corner. 

“Well apparently I didn’t look quite as hard as I could have.”

“Apparently not.”

Where are her shoes?

“What happened to your shoes?” He asked, both genuinely concerned and hoping to change the subject from his failure to find a scarcely hidden cell phone. 

“I took them off.” She shrugged, “I think Jenny has them.”

Now what if she had stepped on a needle or-or a sharp rock? 

Check her feet, they might be bleeding. 

Jake did as Marc instructed, stepping away and unwrapping himself from her limbs so that he could inspect her feet. They were dirty, of course, and the sheer fabric around the bottoms of her feet was torn up. There appeared to have been a few scrapes from the sidewalk, but the worst of the injuries were the two large busted blisters on each of her heels, oozing blood and various other fluids. 

“Shit, cariño.” Jake rushed to the bathroom, returning a moment later with the first aid kit. 

“That’s why I took ‘em off.” She shrugged, leaning back on her palms and allowing him to care for her feet, flinching as his fingers touched the swollen areas around the blisters. 

He sat in the unsteady office chair, carefully pulling her feet into his lap and tugging at the tights, “Can I rip these?”

She barked out a laugh, “Now you’re asking? You’ve ripped a lot of my nicer things off of me without any notice.”

He grinned up at her, ignoring the heat that grew in the tips of his ears at her lewdness. One thing that he always appreciated about these nights out was that she always lost all shyness and reservation the moment that a single drop of alcohol touched her tongue. 

“You certainly didn’t mind all those other times.”

“That’s because you rocked my world right afterwards. You gonna do that now?”

He glanced down, not ignorant to the way that his pants grew tighter at her words. 

She’s drunk, Steven argued, Don’t take advantage of her.

“You’re drunk,” He noted, tearing the material away from her feet and beginning to dab at the open sores. 

“Tipsy,” She corrected, “And horny. Please?”

He shook his head softly, pressing a gentle kiss to her kneecap, “Tomorrow, cariño.”

Y/n groaned, “I don’t want it tomorrow.”

He raised his brow as he finished cleaning her heels, “Oh really? I’ll keep that in mind. Now come on, let’s go to bed.”

She shook her head, pushing past him–making sure to bump his shoulder as she did so–and pausing in the bathroom doorway, “I need to shower.”

He sighed, carefully packing the first-aid kit back up and leaving it on the desk before making his way over to the bed. He leaned back against the headboard, glancing over to the partially closed bathroom door, only allowing him to see the vanity, though the mirror allowed him to see the figure he’d been longing for. 

He watched the reflection as she carefully peeled herself free of the ruined tights before reaching for the zipper on the side of her dress. His breathing became laboured as he watched each article to fall away, leaving her bare to the world as the mirror began to gloss over with steam. 

Go for it, Marc advised, If she’s really that mad about it then she’s definitely not that drunk. She’s never this unreasonable when she’s drunk.

Don’t, Steven argued, She’ll get over it.

Jake groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose tightly as the two argued in his mind, “Shut up, both of you. I can’t even hear myself think.”

He pondered for a moment, then finally made his decision. 

The bathroom was frosted in steam, Jake’s body temperature skyrocketing as he stepped inside. He glanced down at the pile of discarded clothing on the floor, withholding a groan as he recognized the familiar pair of pink lace panties that had been thrown on top, carefully dropping his own clothes on top. 

The curtain prevented him from spotting any details, but he could faintly make out her figure as she stood beneath the pounding stream of hot water. She did not seem surprised to hear the curtain run quietly along the track as he stepped in, refusing to turn to face him as he stepped into the stream as well, wrapping his arms carefully around her waist and holding her back to his chest. 

“I’m sorry,” He murmured into her neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake, “I don’t wanna take advantage of you, mi amor.”

She was frustrated with him, but she simply couldn’t avoid the way that she slumped into his embrace so easily. She sighed, tilting her head back to rest against his shoulder as their eyes met, a silent understanding.

“You wouldn’t be,” She argued softly, “But it’s okay.”

He kissed her lips softly, one hand coming up to grasp at her hair and help her to remove the remaining suds of shampoo. He pushed her gently to stand a bit further from him, allowing him to run a generous amount of conditioner through the ends of her hair. When he was finished, she turned, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist and pressing herself against him.

“I love you,” She whispered into his shoulder, but he heard nonetheless. 

“Yo también te amo angel.”

He felt the corners of her lips turn up against his flesh as she glanced up at him, wickedness clear in her eyes.

“What are you–oh!”

He gasped as her hand moved down, wrapping firmly around his length, which had been unabashedly erect against her thigh as they embraced, proving to her that he truly did want her. 

“Let me do you,” She whispered to him, beginning to administer slow pumps, “That’s all. Please, Jakey.”

NO!

Looks like she’s going to either way, bud. May as well enjoy it.

She kissed him softly, taking his eager response to her as permission. Cautious not to slip, she lowered herself to kneel in front of him, gazing up at him through her lashes as she carefully dragged her tongue up the bottom of him, cupping his sack in her slick palm. 

He groaned, leaning back against the wall in submission to her. She giggled, pressing the softest of kisses to his flesh before finally taking as much of him into her mouth as she could manage. Jake choked on his own spit, one hand carefully finding the nape of her neck to support her movements while the other ran through his own locks, smoothing the wet curls out of his face so they couldn’t obstruct his view.

“Baby-shit,” His hips stuttered forward, his tip grazing the back of her throat.

Her mouth curved around him, though she did not pause or slow her movements to respond with some witty comment, as he knew she had wanted to. 

Hey!

His eyes snapped up, finding Steven staring back at him in the reflection of the stainless steel shower head.

“W-what now?” He stammered out, not noticing the way that she glanced up at him, but didn’t stop; she was more than accustomed to the boys talking and arguing with one another while she was having sex with one of them.

Shut the water off! I don’t even wanna look at the bill we’re gonna get this month.

Jake almost laughed, hell, he probably would have if he hadn’t been balls-deep in his girlfriend’s mouth. Reaching over, he grasped the handle and turned the water off before turning back to watching her. She raised a brow, a silent question.

“Steven complained about the water bill,” He explained, groaning as she choked slightly around him as a small laugh vibrated around her body.

He pressed on the back of her neck, prolonging the feeling of her choking around him for a few moments before pulling her back and hauling her up to her feet. His lips met hers in a furious kiss, tongues intertwining and teeth gnashing as he grasped at her thighs, carrying her out of the shower and dropping her onto the countertop as if she were a doll. 

Eagerly, she spread her legs, grinding against him. He pulled away, moving down her body in hopes of returning the favour, though he was stopped by her, grasping his chin tightly and pulling him back up.

“No, no,” She gasped, “I need you. Please, I just need–”

“It’s okay,” He soothed, pulling her to the edge of the counter and lining himself up, “I got you, I got you.”

He slid into her easily, her folds sopping with arousal. Another perk of these nights out was that she was always so ready for him, and was always so responsive to his touch. He laughed as she squirmed against him, crying out louder than she normally would as his tip kissed her cervix. 

Y/n rocked against him, meeting his every thrust without fail and shivering as her clit continued to be tickled by the dark curls on his pubis. Her arms wound around him, nails leaving crescent-shaped indents in his muscular back as she gripped him for dear-life.

“Jake,” she gasped, “I’m not gonna last long.”

“I know,” He grunted, hands grasping her bum to pull her into his thrusts even more, “Me neither, princesa.” 

“I love you,” She cried out over and over as if it were some spell that she might have been using to bewitch him–that was the only way that Jake could explain how he was so easily manipulated by her every whim and became so enthralled by her simple presence. 

“I love you,” He panted, “I fucking love you.”

His mouth took her lips, absorbing every sigh and moan that dared escape and committing them to memory. He wanted to encase every little bit of her being within himself, consume anything that she was willing to offer, especially her jerking movements and desperate whines as she tightened around him, spilling her release all over his member as he struggled to hold on.

“Come on,” She urged him, eyes hooded and hazy as she came down from her high, “Jake, come on. Please give it to me.”

Her words were enough, his hips stuttering through his final few thrusts before white-hot pleasure exploded within him. He groaned out loudly, following through with a few gentle movements to work himself through it before he slipped out.

They remained there for a few moments, wrapped in each other’s arms as they both came down, melting into one another and whispering sweet nothings. She kissed his shoulder softly, then reached up to meet his lips once more, allowing herself to force every ounce of love she had for him to flow through the embrace.

He chuckled when she pulled away, “Aren’t you glad I said no now?”

She shook her head, “You only made yourself suffer, I could have woken up Marc or Steven to do me the second you fell asleep. I was getting it one way or another.”

He frowned at her, pinching her thigh in retaliation, “You think that either of them could do what I just did?”

Watch it, amigo. I could have done her twice as hard as you did.

Jake grinned at his reflection over her shoulder turning back to his girlfriend, “By the way, Marc called you unreasonable.”

HEY!

[writingsfromhome]

If you Love Something II

A/N: okayy I’m finally going to stop overthinking and just post this one. Please note the tw in part 1. Thank you all SO much for the comments and love on the original…hope this one meets ur expectations. It’s definitely more focused on the lost daughter relationship rather than you and Harry so p dense but...here it is 🫣

——————————————

Age 36:

“Dinner’s almost ready,” Harry informs me over the phone. “I went with chicken noodle soup.”

“Mmm,” I close my eyes. “I could use something hot and hearty right now. I’m freezing my ass off.”

“I didn’t need to make dinner for that.”

“So come here, warm me up,” I crane my neck to the left again. “Stupid delays.”

“I can come get you."

I’d mapped it out before calling Harry, it would take him too long to get here. “That’s alright. Doesn’t make a difference.”

The screen on the platform showed 6 minutes…for the past 15 minutes.

“I’ve either been living in the longest minute of my fucking life,” I mutter. “Or this line is taking the piss out of all of us.”

Two dozen of us had gotten off the last train when it announced it was out of service. Now the number on the platform had tripled waiting for the next one.

“Patience,” Harry says. “Is a virtue.”

“Easy for you to say in the warm flat with the chicken noodle soup.”

“It’ll be yours soon.”

Soon. I sigh and try to release the anxious energy with it. “Thank you for taking care of dinner.”

“Of course.” He replies. Like it was that simple. But being with Harry was like that nowadays.

Despite all the catching up we had to do with the 17 years we had lived separate lives, emotionally it’s like we picked up where we last left off.

I’d be lying if I said it was smooth sailing the whole year we’d been together. There had been a hard few first months where both of us felt unnerved by the peacefulness of the relationship. We weren’t used to such an easy quiet.

I’d tried to self-sabotage first by going awol and working longer hours than I needed to. I think I was scared Harry would wake up one day and realize too much time had passed and he didn’t like who I’d become so I minimized our time together. Until Harry called me out for it.

But then he went off the rails, and for a few weeks I’d been an even bigger ball of anxiety. Ultimately I had to give him the hard truth even though the last thing I ever wanted was to convince someone to stay with an ultimatum. But I’d told him, he had to at least attempt sobriety if he wanted us to work.

There were a few sleepless nights, I didn’t know if we were going to make it. But one morning he asked me to go to an aa meeting with him.

Going together, being in the same boat as a group of people gathered in the back room of a dusty church finally gelled us together. For good. He’d been sober since.

We moved in together 7 months ago. Even though it doubled my commute time—tripled with delays, I had never been more sure that I was exactly where I needed to be.

We held space for each other. Even the heavier bits; we knew what they were. What it was like to hold them on our own. We always joked about how our loads had halved despite taking on half of the other’s. Because just like our venn diagram of love, our venn diagram of hurting was the same.

“Oh god, I better not be hallucinating.” I nearly jump up and down when the twin headlights of the next train peek in the distance. The platform board still says 6 minutes.

“You’re cutting up what?”

“Nothing! Train’s here!”

“I’ll pick you up from the station.” Harry says before I hang up.

I spend the remaining 15 minute ride going over the lecture I’d given tonight.

3 years ago when I applied to be a lecturer I didn’t actually think I’d get it. But in the 10 years of my career I had collected, I had done exceptionally well. It was ironic with all the bullshit life threw at me, I had somehow channeled it into a determined work ethic. After failing many math tests in high school I had found a love for it in uni—it made me work hard, get out of my head with its constant thoughts. Harry now took to calling me a masochist for teaching something mathematical.

In reality it wasn’t that mathematical. I taught Management Econ which was a snorefest on paper but I tried to be engaging and include a whole host of ways to teach—I knew not everyone excelled with a textbook.

It had made the course popular, it went from being offered once a semester to 3 times this year because the waitlist spoke for itself. It was one of my proudest accomplishment—getting students motivated and interested. And because it was mostly first and second year students, they were still eager and not jaded by the uni system.

That was how I spent my evenings on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays. Otherwise I worked for the city the same hours Harry worked his creative exec job at a major firm in the city. Sometimes we met up for lunch. It was the little things like that, making time to see each other in the middle of the day even though we woke up and fell asleep to each other, that made this relationship feel so secure.

It felt like coming home each time I caught sight of his face, and knew his smile was just for me.

My thoughts drift to our daughter. She would have celebrated her 18th birthday a few weeks ago. I always lit a birthday candle for her, this year Harry and I bought a cake and a symbolic drink for her. Our baby was old enough to drink.

“Do you think she takes after her parents?” Harry had asked.

“I think she grew up alright.” I always imagined her to have. “I hope she has no reason to drink herself silly.”

“Being 18 is reason enough.”

We talk about her often. She slips into conversation as easily as inhaling. It keeps her with us.

When I spot Harry’s car at the station I nearly weep.

“Your cheeks are so cold,” Harry says after a peck hello. He holds them both in his heated hands and plants exaggerated kisses on each cheek.

“Please sir,” I kiss his mouth and continue in what Harry called my Oliver Twist accent. “Take me to the chicken noodle soup. I hunger.”

Harry responds in the same accent (although it wasn’t as good as mine) and pretty soon I’m forgetting the 20 minute delay, the lecture with 100 technical difficulties, and anything in between.

After dinner and completing my 20 step night time routine I crawl into bed beside a cozy-looking Harry.

“Whatcha reading?” I peek at his book. I can’t believe he was the reading-before-bed type. In a way it was so different from the 17 year old guy I knew. It was also a reminder that even though we knew each other through and through, there were still so many habits and stories and quirks to discover.

“It’s a boring as hell sci-fi novel, don’t ask.”

“Then why are you reading it?”

“I accidentally joined a book club at work!?”

He tells me the story of how he told some people he enjoyed reading, and then being unable to say no when they bought this month’s book for him and presented it to him a week later.

“I bet you that’s their ponze scheme. It’s like an MLM, the latest recruit has to guilt the next joinee. You’ll be doing it soon.”

Harry laughs and holds his book out to me. “That actually brings me to my next question with this very generous gift, do you like reading?”

“Nope.” I push the book away. “I also don’t like book clubs.”

He tosses the book down lightly. “Damnit!”

We laugh. I cuddle into his side and lay my head on his chest as he finishes his chapter. His heart beat is steady, like the life he’s helped me create as we committed to each other. I listen to it as it lulls me to a calmer place.

“So how was work? How’s your students this semester?”

“Work’s good. Same old right now. Teaching was interesting. It’s the second week of classes so still seeing a lot of people come and go. You start to see the regulars by week 3.”

“Full class?”

“Almost,” I tell him. “A few empty seats. There was one girl who was obviously watching tv the whole time, another guy that fell asleep halfway, and this other kid kept looking at the door like he was physically trying to decide whether he would stay. Weird lot.”

“They won’t be there next week.”

“Nope.”

“You think she’s starting uni? I wonder what she’s decided to study.”

“Mmm, I always think it’s something creative like you.”

Harry squeezes his arm around me. “I think she’s a masochist like you.”

We talk more about her, about the upcoming weekend, and as sleep visits we drift away still intertwined like most nights.

***

“Does anyone know why?” I ask the lecture hall. Just like I predicted, most of the people I knew wouldn’t make it were gone. Now there were just under 60 students in total. What had surprised me was the guy who looked nervous the second week stayed. He’d been joined by two friends who only showed up in week 4. He was probably the designated note taker.

A girl to the left puts her hand up and I point to her. “The growing gap between upper and middle classes?”

“Yes.” I give her a reassuring smile. Until I started teaching, I forgot that most answers they gave were questions. “Anyone else?”

The girl beside nervous guy puts her hand up. “The ageing population, it skews the demographic from what was initially projected?”

“Exactly,” I try not to show favourites but that was beautifully said. Maybe she didn’t need to come to all the classes.

“That would also affect the workforce,” a guy sitting in the front pipes in. I smile, pleased that a discussion was forming.

A few others join in and I nod at each point. I loved this job.

After class is over I always got a few stragglers asking questions. The nervous guy comes up to me.

“Um professor,” he hitches his backpack and glances back at his friends. “For the assignment due next week, can groups of 3 be okay?”

I glance at his friends, it was supposed to be in pairs but what the hell. “Sure. But I’ll need extra stuffing in the assignment to make up for it.”

I say it with a joking tone but he’s so wound up that he takes me seriously.

“Of course. We’ll increase the citations and make sure to include more research-“

“Philippe,” one of the girls is suddenly a few feet away.

“Thank you.” He says, finally meeting my eye. I smile and he relaxes. I turn to his friends, to acknowledge them but they stare at me like I’d grown a second head. One of the other students asks her questions and I turn my attention away—weird.

***

“Mid-terms?” Harry asks. I’m reading a textbook while I stand over the simmering pot. We had accidentally ordered 4 times the tomatoes on our online order last week and with three still left I’d decided to batch make spaghetti sauce. It had been a long time since I made it from scratch.

“Kind of.” I push the book aside. “Someone in the department wants to update the textbooks and they left notes in the old one for what needs updating. They asked me to take a look.”

“That’s cool,” Harry walks over to me. He smelled like cologne and outside, the way he usually did right after he came home on chillier days. “That he wants your opinion?”

“She actually,” I poke him. “And it is! I can’t believe I get paid to lecture about one of my passions.”

“Economics,” Harry makes a face like he smelled something bad.

“Makes the world go round,” I smile sweetly.

“Remember when you liked things that were cool like Harry Potter and Coldplay-“

“I still like them! If I recall you’re the one who motivated me to do well in maths.”

“I did?” Harry looks off into the distance but his slow smirk is evident that he was remembering. He tilts my chin up and brushes my lips. “You’re right. So how about now? Would that still work?”

“Do you want me to stroke your ego right now?”

“Amongst other things,” he muses, his hands drop down to my hips and then lower, giving my bum a squeeze.

“Cut it out,” I scold him but it’s cancelled by the smile on my face. I shake my head and go back to the simmering pot.

“Is that tomato soup?” Harry’s suddenly distracted by the pot. We’d been having a lot of it this week because…well tomatoes.

“Nope, I’m making spaghetti sauce. From scratch.”

“Hey, didn’t you make that one time? When we were kids.”

“Hm,” I think back. It felt like so long ago but something niggles at me. “I think? I used to help my mum—it’s her recipe. Maybe you had dinner on a night we made it?”

“Yes. Dinner at your place, around Easter.”

I remember that Easter clearly but not for dinner. It was a night Harry and I had talked our lives all out.

“Aw. We were so young then.” I wrap my arms around Harry.

“I’m still young,” Harry says. “I’m in my prime.”

I pat his cheek. “Of course you are love.”

***

“Taylor I can’t really do this right now!” I tell my sister as she whines to me. No matter how old we got we were always somehow 17 and 12.

“C’mon just call mom! Tell her you met him and he’s really awesome.”

“I’m not lying to mom so you can invite your newest loser boyfriend to dinner. Anyway I can’t talk. I have to get to class!”

“I know.” She says weirdly. And I understand why when I walk into class and see her sitting in the front row. Ugh she knew I would try to blow her off!

My sister had somehow taken up the bad habit ever since her mid-20s of having a string of shitty boyfriends. We all blamed it on her longterm bloke breaking it off around her 26th. I don’t think she ever fully let herself heal from that.

After two separate guys were invited to two separate family dinners and both ended in mum or dad exploding over something, they were banned. This new guy, as she insists, was different. Mature. He deserved an invite.

She holds up 9 fingers and mouths, 9 months! That’s a long time!

I shake my head and start setting up my laptop.

“Hiya,” one of the students, Kim, walks up to me as I do so. “Sorry I was just wondering when we’re getting our assignments back? Will it be before midterms?”

Midterms were in 2 weeks for this class. The assignments were in my bag, marked and ready. I tell her and watch the relief spread through her.

I spend the next hour teaching, and before we break at the hour I announce I’d return assignments. As I call them out student walks down to me and pick them up, leaving with a smile or a frown.

“Philippe?” He had stuck to his word and his group had gone above and beyond. It was a beautiful paper, albeit overly-sourced. But I appreciated it.

“He’s not in,” one of his friends comes down to get it. She looks at me in that same way again, with just as much fear as curiosity. It’s odd.

“C’mon then,” I shake the paper I was holding out. “I don’t bite.”

“Oh sorry,” she grabs it from me in a rush I nearly get a papercut. She doesn’t even look at the grade, turning quickly away before halting, pivoting halfway, changing her mind, and running back up the steps to her seat. That group of kids were weird. Maybe they were on drugs.

I catch eyes with Taylor and she raises her brow. I shrug and continue handing out the papers.

I don’t expect the girl to come up to me after class. Her friend stays hovering behind, close to my sister who I know must be desperate to have sat here the whole lecture.

“Um ‘scuse me. Professor?”

“Yes?” She was the last person in the small line that had formed after class.

“I had a question about the assignment? You um, you said we missed the equations for our answers but they’re um-“ her hands are shaking as she flips the pages to the last page. “They’re on the bottom here.”

“Oh,” I did remember they were missing it but my pen marks were all over the back of it. “I must have missed that, bloody hell sorry about that!”

“Yeah um, do we get the extra points?”

“Of course but I-“ I glance back at Taylor. She’s talking to the friend. I had to get her out of here before she said something ridiculous. “I have office hours after my Monday class. I’ll have it remarked by then and you can pick it up?”

“Um, okay?”

I quickly shut my things down and grab my sister, getting her out as quick as possible.

“I’m a professional,” she reminds me. “Jeez. Anyway Y/n listen it’s the longest I’ve been in a relationship since, well y’know. 9 months! It’s different with this guy. He works like you! A cushy office job. He’s serious. Please!?”

I hadn’t seen Taylor since last month’s dinner when she had tried to convince me to get on board with this guy. She’d been pleading for a month. “Fine.”

“Oh I love you!” She squeezes my arm. “Text me when mom gives the okay.”

I sigh. I’d really got myself in the middle again.

I retell this to Harry when I get home.

“She’s persistent. But 9 months is a new record.”

“I know!” Harry knew all about her string of boys, I’d caught him up months ago. “Anyway I can’t believe she sat through the whole lecture.”

“Maybe this is the guy. The One.”

“You don’t believe in that do you?”

“Yeah?” He squints at me. “Of course I do?”

“So I’m The One?”

“Baby do I even need to say yes? I knew it as soon as I saw you when we were 14. You confirmed it when you kissed me on the roof that day.”

“I can’t believe I did that. I had my first drink that day by the way so I might’ve been drunk.”

“You were not drunk when you kissed me,” Harry points his fork at me.

“Look at you getting all worked up,” I tease.

“I’ll get you all worked up,” he mutters into his plate. I grin as I stretch my leg out under the table and run it up his leg. He grips my ankle when it gets too high and the look he gives me across the table sends my heart racing.

“Oops,” I drop my foot and go back to eating.

We put on a movie after, something we can zone out to. It doesn’t take Harry long to get bored and nuzzle into me, and it doesn’t take much longer after that before the movie is just for show and we’re tangled in our sheets.

There were 17 years of experience Harry showed up with now, and it was another one of those things that made catching up on lost time all the better.

***

In the first half hour of my office hours, the girl walks in. I should remember her name but I just associated her group with Philippe. I was surprised he wasn’t here actually. He seemed to be their spokesperson.

“Hi come in!” I wave her into the tiny cubicle-like room I borrowed for a few hours every Monday. “I’ve got your assignment here all done.”

“Thank you,” she hovers over my desk and I hand it over. Her fingers fidget with the strings of her hoodie and I seriously consider the drug angle. Or maybe her and her friends had serious anxiety issues. I didn’t miss that part about being a teen.

“You wanna flip through one more time? I try not to make mistakes twice but…”

She sits down tentatively and buries her head in the paper as she flips through.

“It’s alright,” she says. Her expression is so serious it nearly makes me laugh. She had pretty hair—blunt cut bangs that I remember rocking in my early 20s, but on her they hide the expression in her eyebrows. Maybe that’s why she always looked so sullen. Her lips are painted a pretty mauve colour and it complimented her green eyes.

“I really um…your class is really interesting.”

Kids saying that was like injecting pure joy right into my veins.

“I’m so glad you’re enjoying it,” I smile at her. But it still doesn’t crack a smile on her end. “It’s dense material but that’s nice to hear.”

“Yeah, I didn’t know if I was gonna keep the class.” It’s subtle but she inches back in the seat. The more she talks the more she relaxes back. “But I heard it was worth taking. And people were right.”

“Are you in your first or second year?” I ask.

“First,” she tucks her hair behind her ear. It’s covered in piercings.

“How are you liking uni so far?”

She meets my eyes for a second before they shift away. “Yeah it’s nice? I’ve never lived away from home but I have some friends here that I’ve known since before so it helps. It’s really different, less structure but I like the freedom.”

Wow, she really spoke a lot more when she was comfortable. But I find it endearing.

“That’s really nice. It’s good to have a support system, especially with such big change.”

“Yeah,” she agrees. Her eyes dart around the desk as she goes silent. I wait for her to get up and go but a minute passes and the room starts to feel even smaller.

I could ask her if she needed anything else, or maybe continue the conversation? Did she want me to ask about her? No, that would be weird.

“So um, was that your sister in class last week?”

Okay, didn’t see that coming.

“It was! My baby sister, although she’s not really a baby. Did she tell your friend that?”

She nods again. “She was talking to her.”

“You have any siblings?”

“An older sister yeah.”

“So you get it,” I say. “You love them, they get under your skin, you’d do anything for them, and the cycle continues.”

For the first time she smiles and my breath catches. For a moment…no. No, I was imagining things.

“Yeah. My sister and I were close growing up, but she’s the one person that really knows how to get under my skin. I swear she does it on purpose sometimes.”

“Probably,” I want to say something funny again. I just want to see her smile.

Back off, my inner voice says. Don’t do this again.

Some years back, when I was still in the throes of alcohol, I had followed a girl at the mall for nearly an hour. She had looked so much like my sister but with brown curly hair. I could have sworn it was her—my daughter. But after an hour of drunk stalking she had met up with her mum, a direct clone of her.

I couldn’t be obsessive again. Nobody knew about that phase. Not even Harry.

“D’you have any kids?” She asks. I don’t expect the question and it throws me off what with the thoughts looping in my head. She watches me, waiting for an answer.

“Um,” I usually answered no. To anyone who had asked in the last 18 years. But for some reason I nod today. “Yeah. One.”

I imagine it, I must have. Her face draws in for a second before she looks down. “Does she ever come to your lectures?”

“Oh no,” I feel the prick of tears and try to blink them away without being too obvious. “I’m not sure she’d find them interesting.”

“Oh.” She finally stands. “Maybe when she’s older…but I’ll see you on Thursday I guess?”

“Yeah,” I watch her go and realize she’d forgotten something. “Don’t forget your paper hon!”

She stiffens by the door before coming to get it.

“Sorry, it probably makes me a bad prof but there were two female names on the paper. Which one’s yours?”

“Bridget,” her voice cracks.

“Bridget,” I try to match the name to her face. It fit. “That’s lovely.”

She scurries out and I hear someone say “well!?” Outside followed by a “shh!”

I shake my head and try to focus back on my work, my heart racing an unusual amount.

***

It takes a couple days but I confess to Harry. He’d decided to meet up with me after class on Wednesday to eat out. We didn’t go far from the uni, a pub a few roads down. I actually spotted a couple former students there and they’d waved at me warmly.

“You’re not crazy,” Harry holds my hand on the table. “A few years ago I realized the volunteer interns we took on from the nearby school? They were the same age as her, teens? And I used to check up on them all the time, make sure they were feeling comfortable, until one of the guys on the team told me to quit being so weird and find someone my own age. I don’t know if it came across that way but…I got lost in that.”

“Oh Harry,” I squeeze his hand. “I didn’t know that.”

“I’ve never told anyone.”

“Me too,” I pop another chip into my mouth. “But really I’d kind of pushed those memories out of my head until the other day. I can’t explain it, when she smiled it just felt like I knew her.”

“Yeah. Maybe she just looks like Taylor?”

We finish dinner while Harry tells me about a story about some friends of his I knew. We reminisce about our old friends as we wrap up and head out into the brisk November air.

We’re near the station when I gasp and clutch Harry’s arm. Standing outside one of the nearby pubs, smoking with her friends, was Bridget.

“Harry! That’s her!”

“What? Who?” He’s so oblivious as he whips his head around.

“Hushhh!” I nod towards the northwest side. His eyes scan the group. “Red beanie. We have to walk past just look at her okay? Tell me if you see it.”

Harry laughs to himself, “This feels like we’re in high school walking past a crush.”

“Is that how you walked past me?” I tease.

“I did.” He looks at me in that way that still gives me butterflies. It never got old.

“Stop making me want to jump your bones out here. I have a reputation to uphold!”

“Hey I’ll still have a job to support us,” he whispers as we near closer to the group. “Feel free to do whatever you feel.”

“You’re a bad influence.” I whisper back. By now we’re a few feet away and I sense Harry slow down beside me.

Bridget’s nodding to whatever her friend is saying. Philippe is waving his drink around as he responds. We almost pass by unnoticed when someone completely different calls my name.

“Hey professor! Can we buy you a drink?”

I turn and spot a group of students I taught last semester. They were all friends, always battling out their wits during group discussions. It made my class lively, even distracting at times. But I tried going with the flow of whatever group of students I got.

“Hey kids!” I say. Then I have no choice but to acknowledge Bridget and her friends. “And more kids! Is this the new spot to be at?”

I sounded so lame but shite! We weren’t supposed to get caught.

“It’s always been popular,” one of my old students says. “Can we pick your brain? Buy you a drink? We can buy one for your friend too.”

“I uh,” I glance at Harry but he’s frozen solid. I look to what he’s looking at and it’s Bridget. They’re locked in some silent conversation and her friends eye each other. “Harry?”

“Huh?” He focuses on me, flushed and just as confused as I had looked on Monday.

“We’ve gotta get him home,” I pat Harry’s arm. “Our alcohol metabolizes differently at our age.”

“You’re not that old,” Bridget says. She seems to be surprised she said it at all and her eyes widen. “I just mean you look younger than my parents.”

“We’ll take that as a compliment.” I smile up at Harry who still looks a little lost.

“Miss aren’t you going to introduce your male friend?” One of my old student goads.

“Don’t assume,” the other chides.

“Aren’t you a nosy lot after a few drinks.” I missed dishing it back in class with them.

“Oops!” They laugh.

“Anyway. This is Harry.”

“You can call me Mr. Professor,” Harry jokes and it’s a crowd pleaser. God they were drunk. Harry leans into me, “I can see why you like teaching. They’re an ego-booster.”

“Not in a 6pm lecture on a Thursday night.” I whisper back. He hides his laugh.

“Are you guys heading home?” Now it’s Philippe. I’m surprised he was getting involved in the conversation. He was usually the quiet nervous type.

“We are. Need a good night’s rest so I’m not falling asleep in your lecture tomorrow.”

“We wouldn’t mind,” Philippe goes for joker but his face flushes. It’s cute.

“Philippe you take way too many notes during class for me to believe that.”

His two friends, Bridget and the other girl, look at each other wide-eyed before losing it. And I watch Bridget’s face transform again and I get the same feeling. I look up at Harry and he’s transfixed.

I tug his sleeve and he looks at me, swallowing like he was parched.

“Weird right?”

“Yeah,” he whispers but his mouth turns down ever so slightly.

The girls are too busy cajoling Philippe to say goodbye to so we make our exit quietly. We don’t talk much on the train ride home but Harry simple holds his hand out on my thigh, palm up, and I lock my fingers into his. Even when we didn’t have words, we never stopped staying in touch.

***

It’s exam and holiday season before I know it.

I was actually looking forward to Christmas this year. It was the first that Harry was going to join with my family. Taylor’s bloke was also showing. He had been a hit with my parents and even I could admit he was the better of all the guys she’s every brought over.

It’s the last 30 minutes of the last exam I was facilitating this year. I announce the time left to the group. There were only about 15 kids left.

Bridget is one of them. I watch her tuck her hair behind her ear and bite her lip. She’d been pretty quiet the remainder of the semester, and I tried not to let my eyes wander to her too much.

After that night, bumping into her with Harry, we hadn’t spoken much about it. The hope that was initially so buoyant turned crushing as we faced the reality that the odds were slim to none. That our wishes were just pennies tossed in a fountain, sinking to the bottom of the pool.

Dreary winter days pass by and Harry and I try to keep the seasonal depression away with regular outdoor dates, cozy nights in bed, and seeing friends as often as we could.

On Christmas we go to my parents’. It’s a loud affair as my grandparents and a few cousins join us. After dinner I go up to my childhood bedroom, it’s now a guest room but some of my things still lay around. I open the window, it was cold so I drag a blanket out and sit outside. The street is quiet, I see families in a few open windows and I watch the festivities through them. I feel a mix of nostalgia and an ache that goes even beyond that, like I was missing something.

“Y/n?” Of course Harry would find me even though I’d left the door closed and the window tilted.

“Here,” I say.

“Ah,” he struggles to hoist himself out. “Some things never change.”

“You need help?” I watch him climb on all fours.

“I’m steady,” he grins as he crawls to me. I open the blanket and he gets in.

We sit in silence for a bit.

“It was getting really loud downstairs wasn’t it?” I ask.

“I think your grandma’s in love with Taylor’s guy.” Harry says so bluntly that I burst out laughing. He joins in.

“I feel like old people get to flirt with whoever they want because it’s always harmless.”

“Maybe that’s the case with older women,” Harry grimaces. “Can’t say the same thing about old men now can we?”

“Jesus!” I laugh and then laugh even harder when Harry says: “it is his day.”

By the time I wipe my tears Harry’s gazing down at me.

“Sorry,” I lean my head against his shoulder. “You have to stop being so funny.”

“Nah,” he kisses my head. “Have I never told you how much I like your laugh?”

He had. On a night many years ago on a roof like this.

I go to remind him but he’s pulling away. I watch as he shifts to face my slowly. He pulls something out from behind him and my brain only connects the dots as he starts talking.

“Y/N, this is something I wish I could have done 18 years ago but only feels incredibly right to do now. Especially out here.”

“Harry,” I gasp. When did he get the ring? When had he planned this?

“We somehow found our way back to each other again y/n, and you know I love you more than ever before.” He clears his throat as it clouds with emotion. “Some 18 years ago I told you I knew you, because the first time I ever laid eyes on you my heart knew. You were something special. And I never ever want to spend another moment apart again. So Y/N Y/L/N, will you do me the honour and finally be mine? Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” If I wasn’t sitting on a roof I would launch myself at Harry. I settle for pulling his face down to mine and kissing it. “I’ve always been yours Harry. But yes, of course yes!”

He slides the ring on and it fits perfectly.

It was perfect.

When we go back down my mum knows right away, and if it was loud before it’s absolute chaos as everyone descends on me and demands to know how he proposed and how the ring looks.

“On the roof? When there’s a perfectly pretty tree here?” My grandma asks. Harry and I exchange a look then, trying not to laugh all over again.

We ring in the New Year with friends, as fiancés. I can hardly believe it. Apparently most of our friends knew Harry was going to propose and they all toast to us and our happiness.

Somewhere in mid-January, I drop by my parents’ house to drop off some groceries. That’s when my dad hands me a letter that had been mailed home.

“It came for you, I dunno who thinks you still live here but it looks handwritten.”

I take it from my dad as I say one last goodbye. I barely make it to the tube with wobbly legs. Because somewhere inside I know.

It’s a long and agonizing 2 hours that I wait for Harry to come home. He finds me sitting in the dark; the sun had set while I waited, and I’d been too busy staring at the feminine scrawl on the front of the letter to turn on the lights.

“Hello-y/n, what are you doing in the dark?”

Harry drops his things where they are when I look at him. “Y/n are you alright? Say something.”

I open my mouth but nothing comes out. I just push the letter forward.

He walks towards it. It’s like he hits a brick wall when he puts the pieces together, he halts a foot away.

“What is that?”

“Is was…” I try to swallow so my voice doesn’t sound so hoarse. “My dad gave it to me. It was sent to the house.”

“Is it…”

“I was waiting for you.”

Suddenly he’s in motion. He puffs his cheeks out and lets out a noisy sigh. Then he paces the floor one, two, three, four times before standing in front of the couch.

“We should read it.” I say.

“Yeah,” he deflates into the couch. I want to join him but it feels like my arse has been glued to the chair.

I inch it towards me and Harry nods. He wanted me to read it.

My mouth is parched. I can barely make out any sounds as I open it up. It’s three pages folded in two, the paper itself isn’t anything very special, it’s typed up so it’s literally just ink on paper. And yet it’s worth a whole goldmine.

“Y/n and Harry,” I read before my voice breaks and I bury my face in my hands. Our baby girl had written to us. She had reached out.

“C’mon love,” Harry’s suddenly beside me and his hand squeezes my neck. The touch gives me enough strength to stand with him. He sets me down where he just sat and leaves again, returning with water and the letter.

“Can you read it?” I ask.

He settles in beside me, we touch along every edge of us. The letter sits in between us like our love, our hurting—it’s where it belongs. He begins to read in his soothing voice.

“Y/n and Harry,

I hope it’s okay I’m calling you that. I don’t know if it’s proper but ever since I found out about you two last year that’s what I’ve been calling you.”

Harry lets out a shaky breath and I intertwine my arm through his. He kisses my temple and continues.

“When I turned 15, I asked my mum about you. I started to wonder where I came from. I knew I was adopted for as long as I could remember but it didn’t mean much to me for a long time—I had a mother, a father, and a sister. I had a family so why did I need to know where I came from?

But over the last few years it’s been like an itch I couldn’t get to. See when I was 15, what set it off is that my sister decided to look into her birth parents. They were separated, her father lived in Tokyo and her mother lived in Wales. It took her a year to convince our parents to go to Wales. I went with and I found myself in the home of a woman who looked just like the girl I grew up with. The whole time it ate away at me. I wanted this ending too.

I asked my mum and dad when I turned 15 but they were weird and evasive. I turned my skills to the internet but I didn’t really know where to start.

I felt the missing part more and more as I turned 16. I used to fall asleep thinking about you two, if you were alive, what you looked like, where you were, what you did.

I love my parents. They’re wonderful and amazing, they are supportive and never made us feel like we were anything but theirs. But I wanted to know my background.

On my 17th birthday my parents gave me a letter like the one I write today.” Harry stops reading and takes in a deep shuddering breath. “She got the letter.”

His shoulder shake and he pinches the bridge of his nose. I clench my teeth so I wouldn’t cry too. I wanted to finish this letter. I wrap my arms around him and hold him.

This was unbelievable, what we’d dreamed of. Her words, in our hands.

“Here.” I take the letter from him and continue. “Let me read it.”

Harry stays hunched over, so with my hand on his back I continue, “in it you told me how much you loved me. How much you loved each other, your families, where I came from. And Why you had to give me up. For a better life. I saw the picture of you, and I felt broken and complete at the same time. I realized I was the same age as you in the photo, I had to meet you but I was terrified. And I didn’t know how.

I spent a year agonizing and looking through every google page I could find about you. I learned a lot! But I needed to meet you.

I don’t know how to do this. I’ve made decisions that may not have been the best but I’ve left my number and a picture of me when I was 5 in the envelope.

I hope you call.”

With shaking hands I turn to the third page that has one of those polaroids taped to it and a phone number in the same handwriting as the envelope.

“She’s beautiful,” Harry says while tears continue streaming down his face. I can’t even hide mine anymore.

She was beautiful indeed. She had his eyes, and her curly locks in a deep brown frame her chubby face. She had my nose, she looked a little like my sister as a baby. A scatter of freckles over her cheeks confirm it. She was ours. Our baby had reached out. We knew what she looked like.

“We need to call her,” I say. “We need to meet.”

“Yeah,” Harry wipes his face. “We…we need to do this carefully. It’s delicate right?”

I wanted to call her right now but what would I do but cry into the phone? No, I had to wrap my head around this. Harry was right. “Right.”

“She’s out there,” Harry turns to me. “She wants to know us. Y/n she wants to meet us! She saw the picture I-“

“I can’t believe it,” I whisper. “Our daughter wants to—did she leave her name?”

We open the letter and flip over every piece of it but her name is nowhere.

“Maybe she didn’t want us looking her up?” Harry offers.

“Maybe she has an awful digital footprint.”

Something about it makes us laugh and we can’t stop. But pretty soon it shifts back into tears and we’re left holding each other on the couch, tender and content and anxious.

Our daughter had made contact. Would she like us? Would she be mad at us? What did this mean for us?

The thoughts continue to spiral the rest of the evening. We don’t make much of an effort, we reread the letter and try to get dinner in us. We face each other as we try to fall asleep, whispering questions into the darkness. The darkness doesn’t answer, it grows heavier as does the night, and we fall asleep for the first time in our lives knowing the weight of a decision so long ago was a tiny bit lighter.

***

It’s a few days later. All I’d been thinking about was the letter, when I woke up, at work, during my commute, during breaks, when I went to bed.

It sits on our dining table, we glance at it as we pass by. It becomes part of the decor, three pieces of paper and an envelope. It’s so much weightier than that.

I come home from my lecture on Wednesday, a slight buzz of anxiety humming in the background. It wasn’t unusual for Harry and I to get busy at work and not talk the whole day but today Harry had been radio silent. He hadn’t answered my texts or phone calls in a very un-Harry way.

I walk in to Harry sitting on the couch in the dark, staring at the coffee table. On it sits the letter.

“Hey,” I don’t even take off my jacket. I slide next to him. “Is everything alright?”

“Hey,” he whispers. He stays frozen sitting forward, elbows on his knees, head cradled in his hand.

I wait for him to speak, to say something about what was going on. I rub my hand over his back and he glances up. I tip forward until our foreheads touch. “What’s going on in that brain of yours? Let me help you.”

“It’s a lot,” he whispers. It tears me in two.

“Hey,” I remind him. “Just one day at a time. Let’s just talk about today.”

“I want to call her so bad,” he leans away and buries his head in his hands. I wanted to call her too, I’d been waiting for Harry to give the cue since I knew I could be rash and impulsive about something like this. But something was going on with him.

“We will.”

“We gave her up. What if she hates us?”

“She wouldn’t have written us that beautiful letter, or sent a photo, or left her number if she did.”

Harry sniffles and then asks what he really wanted to, “what if she hates me.”

“Harry look at me,” He unfolds slowly and I make sure he’s looking at me. “You’re her father, you’ve carried her with you for the last 18 years. You love her. She wants to know you. Why would she hate you?”

“I’ve fucked up so much!”

“You’re not your mistakes.” I remind him. I get teary eyed as I feel the echoes of his insecurities. I’ve thought about it too: what if I didn’t meet her expectations? “She’s not going to see you and see every good and bad decisions you’ve ever made. She’s just going to see her father—her biological father, and see where she got her eyes from and her hair from and every other quirk she has.”

“You’re not worried?” He asks, looking at me with grief.

“Of course I am,” I confess, tears leaking out of my eyes damnit. “I’m so fucking worried. But my curiosity overtakes that, my love for her is what I’m focusing on.”

“I love her,” he says.

“That’s all that matters.” I cup his face and press a reassuring kiss to his lips. “That’s all she’ll care about.”

Harry untangles himself from me and my heart sinks. He paces the length of our living room a few times, running his hand through his hair.

“We really should talk about the letter,” he says.

“Yeah. I know. I want to call. Badly.”

He pauses. It’s like all the anxious energy drains out of him at once. He sits back down beside me.

“What do we do?” I ask

“How about Saturday? She’s probably going to be home then right? No school—if she’s in school.”

Two days. Two more days of agonizing over the letter.

At this point the letter is memorized, seared into my brain like I had an exam on it. I want to know the person behind it.

When we wake on Saturday it’s a cloudy day. I don’t take it as a bad omen.

We sit with our phones out after breakfast, just staring at everything before us.

“You should do the talking,” I tell Harry. “I’m too nervous.”

“I think you should.” Harry says. “She sent the letter to you.”

“Only because that’s the address my mum gave…gave her mum.”

It hits me again in another wave I try not to drown in. She was eighteen, she’d lived a whole life with a whole family. There was everything of her we’d missed out on.

“Please Harry?” I was already overwhelmed with the realization. I just couldn’t.

He watches me, must hear the desperation in my voice, and slowly pulls his phone forward.

It rings, and rings a few more times. When it goes to voicemail he turns it off.

“I didn’t think that was an option,” Harry says and we laugh. It feels good.

“It’s only 10 maybe she’s asleep. Try one more time?”

He pulls my phone and tries again but it still goes to voicemail.

We sit there, unsure of what to do. We agree to try again later, in the afternoon.

But around half past 12, while Harry’s working in our spare room and I’m scrolling through my phone, it rings. I don’t think much of it and pick it up automatically.

“Hello?” It’s silent on the other end. “Hello?”

I wait, but as I do it dawns on me. Who called me?

I check my phone screen and swipe through as I say hello again. I match the number. It was her.

I run to Harry but the phone is still silent. I wave the paper with the number saying hello again.

“Is this…well you never gave us your name. But we got your letter. We’re so gl-“

The line goes dead and so does my heart.

“You called her again?” Harry whispers, his brows furrowing as he stares at the phone.

“She called.” I think about calling her back but that was pushy. She was backing out of this.

All of a sudden I feel myself giving out. I catch myself against the wall and slide down.

“She’s backing out. It must be…too much for her.”

Harry stares at a spot on the ground, a million thoughts flickering through. Finally it settles on acceptance. He sighs.

“We can’t force her to talk to us,” he says softly what I already know. But his words are like a saw to my resolve and I just start crying. He gathers me in his arms but the grief feels endless. It felt like she was slipping away again; I’d lost so much and I lost her again. She had been so close. How could she do this? Why did she reach out if she wasn’t ready?

Questions without answers. More of them piled on top of the lifetime of questions I’d built for her.

I know Harry feels the weight of them too. We carry them together. That’s the only reason I hadn’t broken yet.

But I come close to it that day. We don’t hear back from her. And we don’t try to call her back. It didn’t feel right.

It killed me she was so close. And something changes inside.

For weeks I feel like I’m on autopilot. It’s like my first semester of uni all over again.

Harry tries his best to keep me together but he struggles too. It makes me feel worse I was taking the bigger hit, not being there for him as much as I wanted. But life feels like a a million blankets covering me.

I try to keep my usual momentum for my classes, but I’m always exhausted after. It pulls me deeper into my sadness, something I loved made me so tried.

It’s a Thursday at the end of the semester and I’m marking exams during my study hours when there’s a light knock on the door.

I’m surprised to see an old student.

“Bridget,” I wave her in. “Come in, what can I do you for?”

“Hi professor-“

“Call me y/n, I’m not teaching you anymore am I?”

“No,” she says with a stiff smile. The last time I saw her was in February, I’d spotted her with Philippe and a few other friends at a local coffee shop. She had been explaining something to one of her friends from a textbook.

Now her hair was short and more pronounced with waves. I wonder if she styled it, her longer hair had been pin straight.

“I had a question?”

You already asked it, I want to joke. But she was usually wound up so I knew it wouldn’t land well.

“What’s that?”

“Um, well.” She perches on the chair and I wait patiently for her to continue. “Are you taking any applications for TA next year?”

I wasn’t expecting that. She always found a way to take me by surprise. I stare at her for a few seconds, trying to remember what year she was in.

“Aren’t you in first year? If I do TAs they’re usually 3rd or above.”

“I know,” she tucks her hair behind her ear. “But seeing that one of my majors is in econ and my gpa is really high, and I did well in your class, I wondered if you would consider me?”

I hadn’t done TAs since my first year of teaching. I found I liked the work because it got me more familiar with the class.

“What’s your other major?” She had said one of them was econ.

“Sociology, I’m pre-law.”

Ambitious. “Why TA for my class?”

She balks as she meets my gaze. There’s something that flits through her face that I can’t quite read before she drops eye contact.

“Um, I really enjoyed it. I did really well. I think you’re super smart and would learn a lot by TA-ing for you.”

“I don’t give special lessons to my TA,” I let her know. “You’d typically attend some of the classes, mark assignments, and maybe teach exam tutorials, and have office hours of your own for students.”

“I’m okay with that.”

“Why should I pick you?”

She pushes her shoulders back, “I’m responsible, dependable, I submit all my assignments on time and have experience teaching.”

“Teaching?”

“I used to tutor when I was in high school. I didn’t really get an allowance so I found a way to support my hobbies.”

“What are your hobbies?”

She blushes a little, was she still nervous? “I love reading, books are expensive.”

I nod. For Harry’s birthday I’d told him he could get any books from Waterstones and it had been over £100 for 3 only.

“I also enjoy cooking. And um, it’s been a while but my friends and I sometimes go to like. Do you know comic con?”

“Yes,” I’d seen things online.

“Yeah we liked to dress up for that sort of thing. We used to make our own outfits and usually the cost varies depending on what you’re making and how realistic you want it and…” she trails off as I smile. She was really enthusiastic about it. I couldn’t help it.

“Tell you what. Leave your number with me and I’ll think about it. I haven’t had a TA for the last few semesters but I am going to take this into consideration.”

“Really?!”

I laugh. “Yes. Really.”

“Um…” she starts to fidget again. “Can I leave my email? I’m getting a new phone soon so I-“

“Sure. Anywhere I can reach you.”

I expect her to get out a pen but she says it verbally and I type it out.

“Um, are you alright?” She asks out of the blue after I type in the last letter.

“Alright?” I raise my brow.

“I mean, you seem…I just heard, um.” She tries to backtrack but I ask her again and she spills. “Some people just said your last few classes seem scattered. Not that people don’t like you. I just…that’s what they were saying. And I don’t know if having a TA would help? And I just wanted to ask if you’re okay sorry I shouldn’t…it’s none of my business.”

God, this girl was so awkward. But she was sweet for caring, I think. “You’re not applying for the role because you feel bad that I seem…scattered right?”

She blushes. “Sorry. I think I said too much.”

I want to laugh but it strikes me that my students had noticed. I’d let it affect their learning. It didn’t feel very good.

“Life’s hitting me hard recently,” I tell her simply. “But I’m alright. Thank you for reaching out Bridget.”

As I finish up the semester I think about her. It wouldn’t hurt to have her TA for one of my lectures, see how she does. I didn’t care for TAs as a lecturer but something about her is compelling and I find myself emailing her in the middle of the night in June. She responds back a few minutes later,

Thank you!!! You’re the best. I’ll do whatever you need just tell me I can do anythingggh

Sent from iphone.

I laugh to myself as I put my phone away and go back to bed. My guesses were she was drunk at a party.

Harry’s asleep beside me and I reach out to touch his back but think better of it. He’d been busy at work with a project nearing its deadline and I didn’t want to accidentally wake him.

I turn around and try to drift off, thinking about my daughter, about how Harry and I hadn’t really talked much in the last two weeks, about my teaching, and my new TA.

Age 38:

It’s a depressing summer. The air of dashed hopes still hangs around Harry and I. It’s less thunder clouds and more of a fog.

One weekend morning, it’s one of those mornings that start off heavy. I can’t get out of bed, but I hear Harry pattering about doing his weekend morning thing. I hear the dishwasher turn on, and soon after he walks in with our laundry folded in a basket. I feel awful as I normally do, but not awful enough to get up and do anything about it. I think I’d have to feel less awful, to do that.

I don’t expect him to get in beside me once he’s finished putting everything away. He smells like laundry and shampoo, I must smell like rot and decay.

“Y/n,” he says gingerly. I just look at him in response. I felt too heavy to even reply. He sits up and calls my name again.

“Mm,” I say.

He sighs. Despite months of this Harry’s been nothing but understanding but this morning seems different.

Suddenly I’m being pulled up by my shoulders and I find myself sitting up in bed.

“Y/N,” Harry says again. I fold my arms as the duvet slips down and the cool air raises goosebumps. “I love you, which is why it’s so hard seeing you like this. You have to get on, my love. We have to move forward. It’s been months.”

All I could remember after our daughter hung the phone up on us was when I almost got to hold her. Right after she was born, I almost got to hold her but they took her away. And that piece of me that followed after her was nearly returned. It was that almost that was a death blow.

“It’s hard,” I feel myself tear up. It was hard not to these days.

“I know baby,” Harry scoops me into him. “I know. It’s hard for me too but we have to get better. We have to live our lives. She’ll come back to us, I just know it. She’s scared, we’re hopeful. Fear’s gonna keep her away. Hope keeps us patient.”

I cry into his shirt and he rocks me.

“I’m sorry,” I say into his shirt.

“It’s alright,” he grips the back of my neck.

So for Harry, for us, I try to get back to myself. I start to pick up my outdoor hobbies, I try to keep conversations going with Harry, I reintroduce my multi-step night routine. I look forward and re-light the candle of hope, even though I ache to blow it out before it can burn down to its wick.

My wounds inside stay tender.

We had booked our wedding for November and as the days approach we find ourselves with one thing on our mind.

Harry and I finally talk about it.

“I always thought she’d be there at the wedding once she reached out.”

We’re sat in an outdoor space near King’s Cross, coffees in hand as we people watch. We’d just come back from a cake tasting and neither of us felt like going home with such a glorious August day. Kids splash in the water sprinklers and couples sit around arm in arm. I touch shoulders with Harry unconsciously.

“Me too. I think that’s what’s kept me from mentally committing to the fact that the date is coming closer.”

“It can’t be forever,” Harry says. “She reached out. She just needs time. She’ll call again one day and we’ll meet her.”

“I know.” I lean my head on his shoulder. This was a realization I’d also been slowly digesting. I’d waited 18 years, what was a few more months, another year? Her baby picture lived on our fridge, at least we were one step closer.

And the love, I had to remind myself in these moments. Hold onto the love.

***

“I can’t stay for this class,” Bridget tells me. It’s the second week of classes and there were still 10 minutes until it officially started.

“Is everything alright?”

“Not really,” that’s when I notice her nose is red and her eyes are too. “My um, my parents had to put my dog down. She…she wasn’t feeling well yesterday and the-they found cancer? And she was in a lot of pain but she never showed it? And-“

I put my hand on Briget’s shoulder and lead her to the exit. There was no reason for the whole class to see this.

“Sorry. I’m-“

“Don’t apologize.” I rub her shoulder. “I understand. Take the time you need I have this covered.”

True to her word, Bridget had been a loyal TA over the summer. I considered it a trial run not expecting much but she had shown up, aced marking, and I’d gotten good feedback from the students at the end of the semester.

I’d also taken to her. She’d join me during my 2 hours every Monday and when no students would come she would loosen up. She’d told me all about the dog she grew up with, she showed me costumes her friends and her made, I’d asked her about the books she was reading and the classes she was taking. It was like having a younger sister again, except I was mature enough to appreciate her.

“I didn’t even get to say goodbye,” Bridget says and this statements seems to be the breaking point. She curls in on herself, shoulders shaking. I don’t even think, I just pull her into me like I would for Harry, for Taylor, for any of my friends.

“You have a lifetime of memories with her,” I hold her. At first she stiffens up and I almost let her go but she only breaks down further and wraps her arms around me. Tighter than I expected.

“I wish I said goodbye,” she says into my shoulder.

“I know hon,” I squeeze her against me, something maternal washing over me. “I know.”

After a minute or so she regains her composure, wiping her face with her sleeve. When she looks at me she looks so much younger, her face grief-stricken and regretful.

“I’m sorry-“

“Don’t be.”

She seems to want to say something more but whatever it is, she swallows it and takes a step away.

I don’t see her for two weeks and I miss her.

When she walks into the lecture the first week of October I try not to rush her but I’m overjoyed seeing her face. It had become so familiar to me.

She smiles shyly when she walks up to me and I pull her into a hug. This time she doesn’t stiffen.

“How are you?” I whisper. Students were still trickling in so I use the time to catch up.

“Okay. Better than that day I cried all over you sorry again. I went home last week, thanks for letting me take it off.”

“Of course. You forget I’ve been doing this without a TA before you. I can hold down the fort.”

She cracks a smile, her dimple making a rare appearance.

“By the way, week 10’s lecture is supposed to be cancelled.” I tell her later during office hours. “But I wondered if you wanted to hold a tutorial that week for some of the material?”

“Really?” A light comes on in her eye. It’s fiery and bright with excitement.

“Yeah! You know the material! I’ll leave you with slides and you can go about teaching them.”

“I’d love to!” She grips her laptop close to her. “Wait why is it cancelled?”

“I’m getting married that week!”

The light dims. Or maybe I imagine it.

“Oh! I thought you were married already?”

“No,” I’d referred to Harry as my partner any time he was brought up. “We’re getting married in November. You’ve met him actually, kind of, that night we ran into you and some students at the pub. Last year?”

“Oh yeah I remember,” she says but her eyes are somewhere else. “So you’re getting married?”

“Yes Bridget,” I laugh. “Married. Tying the knot. You alright?”

“Yeah,” she blinks and she’s back. “You never mentioned the wedding. Do you have a dress?”

“Yeah! Just finalized the tailoring last week. Most things are ready, we’re just finalizing the rings!”

“Cool!” She fidgets with the hem of her shirt. “Is it in London?”

“Yeah, it’s not too big but we didn’t want people travelling too far. This is where Harry and I were born and raised so this is where we want to marry too.”

“Wow,” she seems lost in thought and she stays pretty quiet the rest of the time. I didn’t realize my news was that surprising.

Maybe I still didn’t have Bridget completely figured out.

***

“Harry I can’t pick them up! I need to get home and then head back out to class!”

“Y/n it’s on your way home!”

“Not really! It’s a 30 minute detour. Why can’t you do it?”

“Because you can still get to him right before he closes. I won’t be done here until after he closes. I’m sorry love!”

“Agh and why can’t he do tomorrow?”

“He’s off until Saturday! We need it today.”

It’s the Wednesday before we marry and our rings are still at the jeweller’s. He’d finished them last weekend but we’d been so busy with other things we hadn’t had time to pick it up. And now it was either today and be late for class, or the day of the wedding.

I had gotten delayed at work and missed Harry’s texts explaining the situation. I’d only responded while on the tube, but going out of my way for 30 minutes meant I’d be 30 minutes late to get back to class. And since I’d left marked assignments at home that the kids needed for next week’s tutorial, I had no choice but to head back.

The idea hits me at once.

I hang up on Harry and ring Bridget. She picks up right away.

“Bridget, I’m on a crazy tight schedule. I’m going to be late to class by half hour at least.”

“Oh no. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah it’s just wedding thing but can you do something crazy? And feel free to say no okay?”

“Okay?”

I explain to her that if she rode to my flat, Harry would be there by then and she could pick up marked assignment. She can delay class by taking them up.

She’s silent but eventually I get a yes. “Okay. Can you text me your address?”

“Yes! Yes. Thank you Bridget. I owe you your trip fare and lunch or something. I’ll text you now, leave as soon as you can!”

I call Harry again and confirm he’d be home by the time she arrived. Everything works out.

I get the rings, and have to head home so Harry can try his on. The jeweller was expecting both of us, and let me know he couldn’t do adjustments if I didn’t text him by today. Just my luck!

When I get to the flat I tell Harry not to read his inscription but to try it on and thankfully it fits.

“Hey,” Harry calls out as I try to rush back out the door.

“What?” I was out of breath and frantic.

“Slow down,” he pulls me into a lingering kiss and despite being breathless before, I get some air into my lungs when we part.

“Sorry, so hectic.”

“I know I’m sorry,” he strokes my cheek. “I would have gone if I could make it. Also don’t be mad.”

“Be mad?” I let go of the door handle. “What did you do?”

“Your TA stopped by, Bridget. I forgot she was coming so I didn’t have your papers ready. I invited her in and she was in the living room looking at our pictures and she stopped in front of the baby picture. Of our daughter.”

“Okay,” did Harry tell her our history? I get antsy. “And?”

“Well she asked if that was our daughter. And I didn’t know what to say, if you’ve said anything to her? I panicked?” Harry runs his hand through his hair. “I just changed the subject.”

“Okay, that’s not bad. What’s the bad part I don’t get it?”

“Well. I changed the subject and told her she should come to the wedding.”

My jaw drops. “Harry.”

“I know! I know I’m sorry! I know she technically works for you, she was a student, all that! You’re so fond of her though maybe it’s not a bad thing?”

“Harry that’s…she was my student! I’m a prof at that school I…is that even allowed?”

“Yes? I panicked and googled it.”

I groan, “I swear you’re getting worse the closer we get to the wedding.”

The other week he had tried to buy out a whole bakery in case there wasn’t enough cake for our guests.

“You can tell her we have a full guest list? I don’t know what came over me! She just looked at me with those puppy eyes and she asked about the picture and I tried to talk about something else but the only thing on my mind-“

I kiss him. Just to shut him up. I was getting really late.

“This is like that book club you were tricked into joining all over again-“

“Hey I really like that book club now! It might be a good thing!”

“We’ll talk later.” I shake my head at him. “It’s fine, it’s not a big deal. It’s weird but what’s one more guest?”

“I also said plus one.”

I let out a long exhale and then kiss Harry again. I didn’t want him spiralling while I was gone.

“Baby don’t worry, it’s okay. I’m fine with it. We’ll talk when I get home?”

I mull over it on the ride to uni. But I can’t find a way to uninvite her without it being awful. I text our wedding planner if we could squeeze in two more seats and she gives me the thumbs up.

I did have a soft spot for Bridget, and technically I’ve known her for over a year now.

During office hours, we get a few people in for the first half hour. Then we’re back to just the two of us.

“Thanks for taking over today,” I tell her. “I really appreciate it.”

“That’s alright. Happy to help out.”

An awkward silence slithers in.

“So my partner invited you to our wedding.”

“Yeah! I didn’t know if that was serious am I…?”

She looked so hopeful I couldn’t shoot her down. “Yes! I have a couple people from the faculty coming. And some colleagues from my day job. You’ll probably have to sit with them but?”

“That’s fine!” She’s chirpy Bridget again. “I’d love to. That would mean a lot.”

I watch her as the smile stays on and she gets out her phone, typing away. Maybe her friends, her plus one.

I realize I’m not entirely against it. It had happened, and I was okay.

***

I stare at myself in the mirror, smoothing down my dress in a nervous habit. I never thought I’d get married twice, I always thought after Tatum I was done with marriage, but Harry would always be the exception.

I feel a flutter of nerves thinking about him. Walking down the aisle to him. We started talking on a rooftop one day, we had just been two kids.

“You better not cry,” Taylor threatens as she walks into the room. She had gone to fetch lash glue after my teary eyes loosened an edge.

“I’m not,” I say weakly.

She stands beside me in the mirror, “They’re all waiting downstairs.”

Just 30 minutes ago this room had been a chaotic mess. From my mum, to my friends, to the wedding planner. I’m kind of glad my lash came loose, I’m able to ground myself in these few minutes of silence.

Taylor talks about our family downstairs as she fixes my face. I get up with her help and she beams, but her eyes look misty.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Nothing!”

“Why do you look sad what happened?”

“Oh my god calm down, I just can’t believe you and Harry are getting your happy ending! I’m just…emotional.”

“Aww,” I cup her face even though I want to squeeze my baby sister against me. But my white dress, although not entirely traditional, would be ruined for the ceremony.

A ping on her phone—mum. We rush out. It feels like getting caught when we were younger and quickly getting away from the scene of the crime. I grip my sister’s hand until I stand in front of the doors leading down the aisle.

I don’t remember walking, it felt more like floating. Even if there was a chimpanzee and a talking dog in the pews I wouldn’t have noticed. My eyes are locked on Harry’s teary ones, they anchor me as I glide towards the man I’ve never stopped loving. Who always saw all of me.

When he reaches for my hand I grasp it and I know I made the right decisions. Even the painful ones. After all, I wanted to be nowhere but here.

“Y/N,” Harry reads his vows to me and I try not to cry as he sweeps me away with his delicate words about our love story.

“To be so deeply known by another, without even saying a word, shouldn’t make sense and yet with us we have a language that goes beyond words. A brush of your hand or a look in my direction, it can be enough to unload whatever burden I’d just been carrying. I promise to do the same for you, and to never end this dialogue between us. To love you and to cherish you forever.”

Harry couldn’t keep the tears in and they slide down his cheeks as he reads his words out to me. I reach out instinctively and brush his tear away and he laughs because I was doing it again.

“You’re can’t make me cry in my makeup,” I tell him and our guests laugh.

I had sat and thought so hard about my own vows. In the end after 50 versions, I’d settled on short and sweet.

“Harry, when we first spoke on the rooftop of that party in high school,” I say at my turn. “You told me everything you wanted. One of them was to make the world a better place. And I don’t know if you still want those things as much now as you did then, but one thing is true. You’re made my world a better place. I can’t imagine doing life without you. I love you with all of my heart, there’s no equation that could calculate how much.”

Harry grins at me and my breath catches. My man, he was my Harry.

We finish our vows with a kiss and a lot of noise from the crowd. When we turn to everyone I’m struck by how lucky we were.

The absence of our daughter was tough but when it came to love we had an abundance of it. I see it in every smiling and shiny face in the crowd. It’s like photographing a sunny day with one of those old school films, the sun is covered by a dark spot but the rays still wash everything in gold.

Harry squeezes my hand and I look up to him. He’s already looking at me.

He holds his hand up and lets out a whoop before he pulls my face towards him again for an even longer and borderline inappropriate kiss. I feel myself start to blush in front of the crowd.

We start down the aisle and this time I beam at every guest I catch eyes with.

My mum and Harry’s wave with tear-streaked faces. My friends from high school shout out, always the biggest supporters of our relationship. I catch eyes with Bridget, forgetting for a second she was here. Philippe is beside her, but what’s surprising is her blotchy face. I didn’t take her for someone who got emotional at weddings. I throw her a wave and she smiles through the tears.

Whoever ordered weddings to have a small break between the ceremony and the reception deserved a billion dollars. Harry and I spend the quiet moment doing our outfit change but afterwards we hold each other and let the moment sink in. The day sink in.

“We’re married,” Harry whispers when I tell him we should get going so we weren’t late.

“We took the long way to get here didn’t we?”

“Yeah,” he tucks me under his chin again and even though we would be late we just sway together for a little while. Our own private first dance, before the one for our family and friends.

“We did it all quite backwards actually.” I look up to him.

“Yeah, but we were never ordinary.”

“No, and I don’t think anything we’ve ever done is either.”

“Including our kid. I really wish she were here.”

“We’ll tell her all about it one day,” I promise him. His face eases into a loving smile, the fact that we’d made it to a place again where I can comfort him about this said a lot. Said we’d make it through everything, despite.

“I don’t want to do life with anyone else y/n, I have everything I need right here.”

“Remember that day at Whole Foods?” I remind him. “The first time we bumped into each other.”

“It’s a core memory,” Harry remembers. “I feel like the sun never set on that day. Getting to see you after all those years…it’s cheesy but it felt like coming home.”

“Yeah,” I nod. “Me too. I recognized you by the back of your head did I ever tell you that?”

“Stared at it enough in maths, of course you did.”

“That’s probably why I did so poorly that year remember,” I laugh. “Just staring at the back of your head.”

“That’s why I never sat anywhere but in front of you.” He swipes lightly down my nose and I smile. “Now I get to see every angle of you whenever I want.”

“Oi,” I slap his chest. “Save it for tonight.”

He brushes my cheek. Under his gaze I’m stripped naked. There was nothing to hide with him, ever.

“I understand how long it took you to get ready,” he says in his deep silky voice. My stomach flips. “So I can’t do anything right now. But y/n, our wedding night will turn into a wedding dawn, and then to day again. I promise you.”

I tip-toe, even in my heels, and brush my lips along his cheek. In his ear I whisper, “I don’t expect anything less.”

I step away, feeling unravelled by the look of desire in his eyes. I’m sure I had the same look of want. But before we can give in to what we wanted to do, I open the door to our suite and embrace the gust of cool air.

“You should get some air too,” I say and he laughs, following me behind.

***

“Bitch!” Taylor comes up to me on the dance floor later that night. We had dinner, Harry and I had our first dance, there’d been toasts and tears in between. I was finally letting loose as the wedding party crowds the dance floor. We had been taking pictures all night, after this next glass of champagne I was going to call it quits on photos lest anyone captures anything that’s not an elegant bride.

“What?” I turn away from Harry to face Taylor. She’d been running around all day making sure my wedding day was perfect and seeing her just warms me with love. I squeeze her against me despite her protests. “I love you Taylor. Thank you for everything!”

“Ugh c’mon,” she wriggles out. She’d never been very affectionate.

“Where’s your bloke?” I look out for him.

“He taking a call. Anyway don’t change the fucking subject!”

“What subject!?” I ask as someone dances past me, fluttering their fingers in my direction. I blow them a kiss.

“C’mere,” she’s annoyed I’m distracted. She drags me off to the side and I hold a finger up to Harry as he watches us. “When the fuck were you going to tell us about her? And you invite her to your wedding and everything and nobody knows anything!?”

“What?” I was drunker than I thought or Taylor was making no sense. “Wha?”

“The girl you just took a photo with? Don’t act stupid Y/N jeez I can’t believe it. You hid it from me when it happened but why are you still hiding…”

My sister grows more upset as she talks, I realize it was serious. Taylor rarely allowed herself to get this worked up in public.

I put my hand on her shoulder but she shakes it off. I think hard about who she was talking about. Who had I just taken photos with?

Some of Harry’s friends took a picture lifting us up, then there was a photo with my cousin but that can’t be who Taylor was talking about. There was Andie, a few other friends and their partners, then Bridget and Bridget and Philippe.

Bridget.

“Wait what are…who do you think that is? Taylor I work-“

“Your daughter! Why are you still acting fucking clueless!”

“What’s happening?” Harry walks in mid-way into the conversation.

“God you too!” Taylor turns to him and hits the back of her hand on his chest. He rubs the spot and stares at her like she’d gone crazy.

“Me too what?”

“Harry?” His mum walks up to us, her brows pulled together the same way Harry’s does when he’s confused.

“Yeah?”

“Who’s that girl? With the brown hair? Purple dress?”

She’s eyeing Bridget who’s laughing with Philippe.

“Bridget?” Harry glances at me and Taylor grows more pink.

“Bridget? That’s her name?” Taylor blinks away tears. “Really y/n? I get when it happened I was a child, you and mom kept it from me. But she’s, you invite her to you-“

“Invite who?!” I shout. What the hell did Taylor think.

“Y/n,” Harry puts his hand on my lower back in warning.

“Your daughter?” Taylor says with teary eyes and a look of betrayal on her face. “That’s your daughter isn’t it? She looks just like…”

“Jesus I thought the same thing,” Anne looks at all of us. “Harry?”

“That’s not-“ he stops talking and we all look over at her. I had to say, right now she really could be. With her hair curled and wearing what she’s wearing. She could be family.

“She’s my TA. I’ve known her for a couple years guys I’ve bloody taught her. That’s not our daughter. She wasn’t even supposed to be here tonight? Harry invited her last minute.”

They all turn to look at me. Taylor looks miffed, she bites her lip as she looks at her one last time.

“That’s weird. Nevermind.”

She leaves like she didn’t just make a big scene. Anne covers her hand with her mouth and shakes her head. “I’m sorry loves, I didn’t mean to upset anyone-“

“You didn’t do anything,” I reassure her. Taylor did. And she couldn’t even say sorry.

“Don’t worry mum,” Harry pays her arm. She fades into the crowd and Harry stands in front of me so all I see is him. “She’ll get air, she’ll be fine.”

“But how could she just cause such a big scene like I’d hide something like that from her? On my wedding day! And then leave without even apologizing ugh! She is still such a brat sometimes!”

“I know, she’ll apologize later just let her be.” He knew Taylor enough. He knew her at 13 and he knew her now. That’s exactly what she would do. “We’re getting you a shot.”

“That’s the last thing I need! I’m already kinda tipsy Har.”

“This won’t tip you over c’mon. Shake it off.”

He leads me to the bar and we take a shot. I nearly spill half of it, it was awful whatever it was. I lose Harry as we get back to the dancing and end up behind Bridget instead. Philippe noticed me first and slows his dancing, which signals Bridget to turn around.

“Y/n!” Her smile is so bright it hurts to look at. It dims as I just stare at her.

It would be crazy. It was a big fat coincidence. She had a mum, a dad, a sister, she told me all about them. Her childhood dog and the time she twisted her ankle playing football in year 4. She wasn’t who we wanted her to be.

“Are you alright?” I read her lips. There’s only ringing in my ears. “Hey! Y/n!”

Philippe is suddenly on my other side and I’m being led to a chair. He disappears and Bridget pulls a chair beside me.

“What’s,” my voice sticks and I clear my throat. “What’s going on between you two? He’s your date?”

“Philippe?” Bridget’s brows draw together and I can’t stop looking at where they meet. I knew her. I didn’t know her. I was too afraid to ask. “No just friends.”

“That’s not the way he’s looking at you.”

“What?” She tucks her hair back. “No we’ve been friends since high school. It’s not like that?”

“What would you do if he got a girlfriend?” It was a random conversation to have, here and right now but it helps me from tumbling anywhere else. Especially into a pool of what-ifs.

“I’d,” she shrugs but a flicker passes through her face, for a second her jaw clenches. “Be happy for him.”

“Liar!”

“I’m not! Why are you asking?”

“You two like each other. I see the way he looks at you when you’re not looking. Why did you invite him tonight?”

She shrugs, picking at something on her arm. “I dunno. He’s good at being a plus one. He always supports me? He’s always been there for me.”

“Sorry,” he shows up with a glass of water. “I swear the guy behind the bar was ignoring me.”

“Thank you Philippe,” by now I didn’t really need the water but I hold the icy glass in my hands. “Let’s see the pictures you took. I want them in my inbox or something soon. We don’t get our official photos for months.”

“Oh yeah here,” Phillipe hands over his phone after opening the photo. There are a couple of all of us, and then a few with just Bridget standing between Harry and I smiling.

I look between all three of us and feel something in my gut. But it’s too scary and big to unpack right now. I shove it away. I couldn’t do this. Not today, not tonight.

“You look beautiful Bridget,” I touch a lock of her hair. “Did I already say that?”

“Yeah,” she smiles awkwardly. “You said that before the photo.”

“You do. And so do you Philippe. Thank you for attending my wedding.”

“Thanks for inviting us,” Bridget looks at me wide-eyed, like she’s about to say something but when Philippe’s hand lands on her shoulder she looks down.

“What?” I ask anyway. Her eyes dart like prey to me, to Philippe, and down to her hands. I grab her hand and force her to look at me, like I could read something in her eyes. Like I would know. “Bridget.”

She looks up and her eyes well with tears as we look into each other’s eyes. My throat feels tight like I was having an allergic reaction, it travels down to my chest, I inadvertently feel myself squeezing her hand.

“I’m so-“

“Bridget,” Philippe’s voice cuts through whatever Bridget was going to apologize for. I look up at him and he’s burning a hole staring at her that hard. Over his head I see Harry.

“Oh look I see my husband,” Harry’s spots me too, relief in his features. His eyes stay on my face as he walks towards me and his eyes keep my steady. I want to tell him something, but everything that just happened was so non-verbal and unreal that I think I made it all up. I must be because this was insane and there was no explanation other than I was drunk, and sadder than I realized. “Gotta go kids. Have fun. I think I need another shot.”

I remember the rest of the night in snapshots. I forget myself later, giving myself up to Harry after that. We actually make it to dawn in a mixture of love and declarations, filthy words and I love yous, laughter and deeper conversations. It’s everything we were. It’s just like he promised.

***

Life moves on and I don’t bring anything up to Harry. I couldn’t, either I’m wrong and get his hopes up, or he thinks I’d gone insane in my sadness.

I feel like Bridget avoids me the week after, I return to class and she sits there, even takes questions after class, but she makes an excuse of studying during office hours and I barely get a few words with her. The week after she has an exam and she skips out after class.

I’m antsy. I want to know more about her; from her. I’m tempted to find a way to access her profile, get more info via the school. But I wait.

Harry notices, as we prep for our honeymoon booked over the holidays, he continues to ask if I was alright. And I try to convince us both I was.

About 3 weeks after the wedding, it’s a Saturday afternoon. Harry’s making lunch and I’m sitting in a pile of our books trying to decide what can be donated.

“Can you get that?” Harry asks.

“Hm?”

“The door?” He says just as there’s another knock. I’d been so entranced in the book I’d randomly started reading a passage of I hadn’t even heard.

I scramble to get it before the next knock and nearly stumble back when I find Bridget at the door.

“Hiya,” she says with an awkward wave.

“Hi…Bridget. What…come in what’s going on?”

“Sorry? Now that I’m here I should have called first.” She comes in and I go further in, waiting for her to follow. She hesitates before peeling her wet boots off.

“Harry? We have a guest,” I announce as I take her further into the home. I guess she’d already been here once before. “Bridget what can we do you for? Did you need something?”

“Bridget!” Harry pops out of the kitchen into the adjoined living room when we get closer. “Nice to see you again! I’m nearly done lunch, did you want to stay?”

What was it with Harry randomly inviting Bridget to things that were not pre-discussed.

“Um, I no. I probably shouldn’t. I just, came by to talk?”

“Sure,” I lead her to our dining table. “Is it about school? Did something happen?”

I sit across from her and Harry mumbles something, turning the dials down on the stovetop before sitting beside me.

Bridget’s eyes dart everywhere, from me to Harry, to the pictures on the wall, the kitchen, the books all over the floor.

“I was just doing a clearout,” I say to fill the silence. “Hey you like books right? Look through that pile there later if you want any of ‘em.”

“Actually,” she tucks her hair behind her ear. I feel Harry tense beside me. “I have a book for you.”

She leans down to where her tote rests and pulls something out. She lays it on her lap first, where we can’t see it. When she looks up to us she has tears in her eyes and her chin quivers.

“Please,” she whispers before pausing. My stomach drops as I take her in. Her face is blotchy and her hair hangs around her face, hiding half of it. She’s definitely cried before coming here, and I almost feel like deja vu as she places the book on the table. “Please don’t hate me.”

She slides it across to us. It’s just a simple leather hardcover, about 30cm by 30cm. The thing in my gut, the suspicion or the intuition, it turns into a cackling ball of energy and moves up to my sternum. I put my hand over it, and then move it to Harry’s leg. He’s frozen like a statue, staring at the book.

“Please open it?” Bridget says with tears streaking her face.

When Harry doesn’t make a move I pull it the rest of the way towards us. I open the first page to a few baby pictures.

I’d never held her in my hands, never even saw her. I’d pushed her out into this world, into another’s arms. But somehow I know who this is.

“Bridget,” I don’t even look at her. I start to frantically flip through the pages. The baby grows, 2 months, 6 months, 1 years old. Another girl joins in some photos, she always has an arm around the other child. I flip and flip and flip and even though I’m expecting it the photo stops my breathing.

I stare at the clone, or the original, of the photo on my fridge.

I’m frozen until another photo is slid towards us. It comes into view: two teenagers on Halloween night. The guy is dressed like the girl, the girl is dressed like the guy.

I throw my chair back and in the time it takes to walk to Bridget she stands too.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobs but I just do what I wanted to do the second she was born.

I hug her. I hold her to my chest the way I never got to over 19 years ago. She belonged here. She never got to be here.

She was finally home. My daughter.

“Bridget,” I cry into her hair. Harry’s hair. She had Harry’s hair, his eyes. She got my nose and everything else. I was holding my daughter. She was in my arms, finally.

She really did look like Taylor as a baby.

“I’m sorry,” she cries again. “I was so scared and I screwed up and-“

“No.” I say fiercely. I push her out of the hug so I can grab her face. I wipe her tears and I nearly cry again. How many tears had I missed? Over skinned knees, playground taunts, first crushes and friendship breakups. How many tears had I missed? “Don’t say that. You’re here. You’re—Harry!”

I turn to him, why wasn’t he here?

He’s sat exactly where he was before. Frozen, staring at a spot between the picture of us and Bridget.

I let go of Bridget and move back to him.

“Baby,” I touch his arm and he springs up. Tears coat his lashes.

“‘Scuse me,” he brushes past me and heads out into the hall. Away from us. I want to go after him but I don’t want to leave Bridget—our daughter, alone.

“I’m sorry I knew I would ruin things I-“

“Please,” I want to go after him so bad but I go to Bridget and pull her into a gentler hug. When we part I keep hold of her shoulders. I never wanted to let her go. “He’s just processing it. He’s fine. He’s not mad at you I promise. Promise.”

She bites her lip, it reminds me of Taylor. She was a bit of everyone I knew and loved. She was the love that Harry and I always had. She was ours.

“I just got so scared when I tried to reach…I didn’t mean to deceive you. I didn’t. I felt terrible every day.”

“It’s okay,” I tuck her hair behind her ear. “There’s nothing to be sorry about-“

“But I saw you,” she cuts me off. “After I finally called you back and then just like, ghosted you. And every time I saw you at school it was like…I knew I was to blame. And it made me want to tell you even more but I got more scared any time I came close to it. I almost said it at your wedding—it would have been so stupid. Philippe stopped me.”

“I understand,” I did. I also didn’t care about any of it. She was here. That’s all I cared about. I wanted to know everything about her, I needed Harry here though. “Look Harry…your…Harry. I’m just going to check on him. You stay here and just…”

I trail off and leave. I had to be sure he was okay.

He’s not in the bedroom, or the office. I try the door to the toilet and it opens, he’s sitting on the edge of the tub with his head in his hands.

“She leave?” He asks in a hoarse voice.

“Oh baby,” I crouch in front of him. “No. She’s still here but I just wanted to check on you.”

“I’m pathetic,” he buries his hands in his hair. “I’ve been waiting my whole adult life for this and all I do is freeze. Her first impression is of her dad just freezing and then running away.”

I try not to laugh at his dramatic retelling. “Har you know that’s not true. She’s known you before this. It was a shock-“

“You were fine.”

“You know I…always suspected. Especially after the wedding.”

He looks up at that, finally. “You never said.”

“Harry, I felt crazy. Saying it out loud would have forced me to check myself into the psych ward. We all react differently, it doesn’t matter though. Our baby girl is here. The day we talked about!”

He takes a deep breath, and then another one. I guide him to stand and he looks so limp and sad that I squeeze him in a hug. “She doesn’t care how you reacted. She just wants to know you.”

Harry sighs again, he splashes his face with water and we walk out. I was nervous for him.

We walk back into the living room and my heart sinks when Bridget isn’t there. But her things are?

A few steps further and she’s at the stovetop, stirring a pot.

“Oh sorry,” she steps back and nearly throws the spatula into the pot. “It was boiling a lot and-“

“Bridget,” Harry ignores most of what she’s saying and she freezes at the sound of her name. He’s a foot away from her now. I watch him raise a hand to her face and then drop it. His face is a cross between heartbreak and awe as they drink each other in. I wait in anticipation.

“Hi,” she finally says shyly. But it breaks the ice. Harry pulls her into a hug and she returns it tenfold from the looks of it. I can’t tell who’s crying, but I give them their moment as I turn the dials off on the stovetop.

It was just a regular Saturday, except it wasn’t. Our worlds exploded with our past and was putting itself back together again, all the old broken pieces were being mended back together with love. My chest drowns in it, I can barely breathe. In Harry’s arms, there’s no denying she’s ours.

***

“Thank you,” Bridget says as we tuck into dinner. Harry’s lunch prep had gone cold as we’d all sat down and talked about how Bridget found us (looking me up, finding out I was teaching a course she was interested in, forcing her friend Philippe to take it to see if I was who she thought I was), and going through her album. I found out more about her sister Louisa and her parents. It was weird seeing pictures of them, in my mind they were the people that took my baby as their own and for Bridget they were mum and dad.

We finally decide to do something about food when our stomachs rumble. Harry goes back to cooking, showing Bridget what he’s doing until she leaves to take a call. I recognize Philippe on the caller ID.

I take Bridget’s place but I’m more of an extra weight tied to Harry’s back as I hug hun from behind. We don’t even have words on what this all means to us. For now, just touching each other keeps us grounded, it keeps is in what was happening together.

Bridget comes back from the call when we’re nearly done.

“I just want to say I am sorry—and I know you said not to be,” Bridget says quickly before I can get a word in. “But I never meant to deceive the both of you. My plan was to take your class, leave the letter and then talk. I Googled you so much it felt like I knew you. Yet when we spoke in your office that day, you felt familiar but In a different way than the person I studied. I just liked you so much, and I wanted you to like me. I was scared maybe you wouldn’t. So I just screwed the plan and messed up everything.”

“Hey,” Harry hands her a tissue and she takes it. Under the table he squeezes my hand. “It’s in the past.”

“I know. Still made me feel awful. And I couldn’t tell you but I also couldn’t stay away. I applied for TA and, it felt like having a friend and a sister and a mentor all in one. And I…I screwed up. I took it too far. And then you invited me to your wedding—I got to attend my parents’ wedding! It was so absurd. I couldn’t stop crying.”

Sounded like me. But I don’t say anything. We listen to her attentively.

“I only told my sister. I wanted to tell you two before I told my parents.”

I think about my parents. Harry’s. I didn’t want to overwhelm her but I couldn’t wait to introduce her to everyone that already loved her.

“I just hope…no, I know I hurt you two a lot. I didn’t mean to. I am really sorry about it all.”

“Bridget,” Harry’s hand comes down on hers. “What’s done is over. There are so many things we wish we did differently but ultimately it’s all done. All that matters is you’re here, now. You’re our daughter we never got to meet and you’re finally here.”

Harry’s voice cracks on the last word and he sits back and laughs away the tears. “Sorry. I’m a mess today aren’t I? Your first impression of me is a crying mess.”

“That’s not my first impression,” Bridget laughs but her eyes also fill with tears. “That night at the pub. When I saw you two together I nearly bloody fainted! When I looked you up y/n, there’d been an old wedding registry with another bloke. But then seeing you two together?! I just couldn’t believe it—I thought I dreamed it. And then I nearly cried because my bio parents were somehow together?? And the way you just stared into my soul it felt like you knew who I was.”

I laugh, remembering but also knowing exactly what look Bridget was talking about. “He does have a piercing look doesn’t he?”

“Yeah. It could gut someone!”

“That makes it sound awful!” Harry laughs. “Don’t say that.”

“It nearly gutted me! I really thought oh shite—“ Bridget freezes and looks between us like we were gonna scold her for swearing and I nearly leap across the table to hug her again then. “I uhm, I thought you knew who I was.”

“We thought it then,” I let my eyes roam over her. I realize I’d always been a mother, despite not having my daughter. Holding her earlier had awoken an instinct in me and now every time I look at her I feel a rush of love and something fierce. I wonder if Harry felt it too. “But we thought we were mental!”

Her phone chimes as we laugh. She flips it around and then tucks it into her purse.

“You need to take that?” Harry asks.

“No it’s just Philippe. He was at the wedding? I was just talking to him, I hadn’t texted him in a while he wanted to know how it went.”

“Philippe,” I say with a knowing smile. Bridget blushes and Harry asks what he’s missing out on so I fill him in.

“He sounds like a good lad,” Harry comments.

“A good lad?” I repeat. “Are you hearing him?”

Bridget laughs behind her hand and I can’t stop staring at her. I have to force myself to go back to eating.

“He is. I might have told him about how I felt?”

“Wow,” I put my fork down. “You’re confessing an awful lot lately.”

She blushes even deeper. And suddenly I’m grateful of the weird and layered way she’d come into our lives. Despite hiding the truth, it had allowed us to get to know each other as people first. Without any baggage or give me any inclination to fit who I thought she should be onto who was in front of me.

I got to know her for the young woman she was first, so did Harry in a way. And I would be forever grateful for that despite all the pain in between.

“Sorry,” I get up. The affection was overflowing from my cup. “I’m going to give you another hug because I just can’t believe all this.”

“Ohh,” Bridget stands to meet me and we wrap our arms around each other. Here was a girl I already knew, here was my daughter waiting to be known.

“God, she really is our daughter.” Harry quips from his side of the table. He explains when Bridget looks over at him, “y/n is known to be a big touchy person, I’m kinda like that too.”

“Oh my god,” she smiles at us. “I’m like that too! My sister hates hugs. My dad’s 2 pats on the back man, 3 if he’s feeling a lot. I always wondered if…”

She trails off. It seems to hit all of us all over again every so often. For me it’s when she talks about her mum and dad and it’s not Harry and I. The reminder that she went 19 years becoming her own person that we now were catching up on.

For her, it seems it was realizing all the parts of us that were in her.

“You got Harry’s hair, and eyes.” I comment.

“I did! I realized that as soon as I saw a photo online. But I do look a bit like you.”

“You do! I should show you some younger pictures of us and our families. You’ll see more similarities.”

“Wow. So you have a younger sister. How about you Harry?”

“Older sister. Seems we all have sisters.”

Bridget and I make eye contact, remembering a conversation we had what feels like ages ago about having sisters.

We continue our dinner, swapping stories and filling her in on anything she wants to know. She leaves after, claiming to have to get back home, she had an exam on Monday to study for.

When she leaves Harry and I can’t stop talking about her. Or gushing would be more accurate.

“Did you see the way she laughs?” I’d tell him. “Pure you!”

“The way she tucks her hair back,” he would retaliate. “Just like you. You did that especially back in secondary.”

We talk until we’re exhausted, crawling into bed just staring in wonder. There were still so many details to figure out, so many things to cover, it could drown a person thinking of it all.

But like an anchor in the sea, Harry and I fall asleep with hand clasped together. We keep each other buoyed amidst it all.

It was going to take time for this all to sink in but all I’ve ever had was time, and questions. I think I was finally getting time and answers.

Age 39:

Harry’s pov: Having our daughter in our lives is simple and complicated at the same time. At first there were a lot of things to untangle but as time went on, the knots loosened until our lives became their own knots, tangled into each other.

Meeting her parents, the people I met once many years ago, was likely the strangest part. They already felt so familiar as soon as they greeted us in a warm embrace, as if we were there own children. I guess the last time they saw us we were.

“Oh look at you,” Bridget’s mum had squeezed us tight. Her dad had pat us three times and we took it to mean as much as a hug.

In my mind they were always the age they had been then. They were probably around the age we are now. Seeing them sport greys and fine lines, it was like stepping into a time portal.

Lou, Bridget’s sister, eyes us for the first little while before warming up and sharing all kinds of stories—especially the embarrassing kind with us.

When Bridget meets Y/n’s family, I can tell they’re loud and overwhelming at first but we’re all surprised when Taylor embraces Bridget and takes to her immediately.

She brings out old pictures they had of Y/N and I, but every time she says, “your mum and dad…” when she talks about us through the pictures, I notice y/n protesting less and less.

It makes me feel funny, I keep thinking I was going to wake up and find out it had all been a dream.

“This feels very full circle to me,” y/n’s mum says. She’s watching Taylor talk about her baby bump—she was 3 months along. “I saw Bridget as a wee baby when they handed her over to her parents. I remember running late to hospital and making it to the room just in time to see it. I blinked and now she’s in my living room!”

“Sometimes I feel the same way,” I confess.

My family is slightly quietier but they all fuss over our daughter. They ask a million questions and when it’s all over we take Bridget for ice cream. It’s a pseudo-recreation of a life we never had.

Bridget eases into it too. At first she had bouts of disappearing on us. No more than a couple days. But we give her space, understanding it was overwhelming.

Every time I see her, I see her mum—y/n. I was never there when y/n gave birth. We had to drive up from London when we got the news and by the time I got there the dust had settled.

I never even had the potential of seeing her. I’d always been more sympathetic of y/n; her loss had been physical, mine was slightly more abstract.

Even though I’d spent every year since regretting that I wasn’t there to at least glimpse her, I’m glad now I hadn’t been there to see her. If I had to live the last 18 years with this feeling in my chest I don’t think I could have lasted that long. I don’t know how y/n did it. It’s a concoction of deep unconditional love, and tenderness, and recognition, wrapped in a shell of protectiveness. It took me a while to sort through it all but I had a conversation with my parents one night at dinner Y/n and I had visited. And they’d laughed because they had told me that was simply what being a parent was.

“Maybe she regrets it,” I had said the second time she ghosted us. Really it had just been over a day where she hadn’t gotten back to us. But I couldn’t help the overthinking, being tuned into any potential of loss with our daughter.

Somehow, y/n was the cool headed between us two in these moments. Maybe it was being a mum, maybe it was knowing Bridget beforehand, but she was very in sync with her.

“She needs space. The last thing we want her to be is overwhelmed too. Now don’t overwhelm yourself love, at least she’s in our lives.” She’d say.

It takes us the start of the summer and all those meets later for Bridget to finally feel at ease.

We invite her on a road trip, we were renting a place in the Cotswold for a few days and told her to bring Philippe. When she doesn’t even hesitate to say yes Y/n tells me we’d done it: she was finally more comfortable than overwhelmed.

“Y/N made me a better man,” I say after a couple drinks. We’re all sat around a fire outside the house. Despite it being a warm day of hiking the night had cooled significantly and we’d decided that boozy hot cocoas was the way to go. “I’ve lost my ways a lot of times as an adult. But she’s always been my north star. Even when we got back together she led me to being sober and getting my shite together.”

“Oh…” Philippe looks down at his drink. “Are you…”

“No,” I laugh, Philippe was the most-conscientious teen I’d ever met. “I got sober to get my life in order. But…it’s in order now. I haven’t done anything crazy for over a year now.”

A little before our wedding I decided I wanted to end my sobriety. It had been a thought for months, and I had waited before giving in. But I really felt more in control of my life. I faced my life decisions head on, I confronted my past with y/n’s help, and I didn’t think I’d lose control again. It had been a shaky first week but I was right. It was a proud moment for me.

“You two really have something special,” Bridget comments.

“They do,” Philippe adds. “I can’t believe you got your happy ending after so many years!”

“Yeah,” y/n says as I lay my hand on her thigh, palm up. “Y’know what they say about loving someone and letting them go.”

“I guess you did that with me,” Bridget says so quietly we almost don’t hear her. But out here in the countryside we do.

“We didn’t want to,” I remind her.

“No I know.” She smiles, it’s a bit sad. Philippe tugs her closer. I could see how much he cared for her in that small gesture. “I’m not saying it like that. I hear your story and I just imagine how different my life would have been if I was raised by my, by you two. I wouldn’t have this life. And I really like this life.”

She looks at Philippe and I feel y/n squeeze my hand. She often said they reminded her of us when we were younger; the kind of love you’d do anything for.

“But you two loved me enough to let me go. To let each other go. It’s fucking sad but it’s beautiful. Life’s weird.”

“Here here,” Y/N raises her nearly empty cup of hot cocoa. “Life’s weird, sad, beautiful, but lately my life’s been full of so much love. I wish I could sell all the excess, I think I could solve a lot of world problems with it.”

“Wow,” I lean over and kiss the top of her head. “That’s one hell of a speech.”

“I have a speech,” Philippe stands, a little tipsy, and clears his throat. Bridget rolls her eyes but they shine for him. “Bridget you’re the love of my life. Since we were 13. But Harry and Y/N, I think I love you too. Ever since we were 15, I’ve watched Bridge struggle for answers about her past. And you two have given her all the answers, welcomed her—and me actually, into your lovely life. I’ve watched her become old Bridge but even more confident. I’m falling harder for her these days. And I can’t thank you guys enough.”

“Aw Philippe come here,” y/n lets of my hand to walk around and give him a hug. How quickly strangers became family.

Bridget grumbles about being left out and joins the hug. Soon I join in too. I want to create a mold of this moment, I think as I squeeze them against me, I’d make it out of plaster and let it dry. Any time we wanted, we could always find our way back to this moment here.

Age 40:

Y/N and I watch our daughter cross the stage. Beside us are our parents and in front of us sits Bridget’s parents and her sister. She has a whole army cheering for her. This was the first milestone event we could all really show up for, and show up we did.

“I can’t believe this,” I was so proud of her. I know the kudos went to her parents, and herself, but I beam with pride. Honestly Bridget could spin in a circle in front of me and I would be a proud dad.

“We need to get photos,” mum leans over and says so seriously, as if we hadn’t planned on getting a million already.

We have a framed picture in our hall, Y/N and I on our wedding day, our daughter in between us. Her graduation photo is definitely making it. She makes fun of this wall, calls it the Styles hall of fame, and I never mention it but she always lingers a few second longer in front of the photo of the three of us.

I do too.

“It makes me so sad you won’t be so close to me anymore,” my mum tells Bridget later. We’re all piled in our flat, drinks and celebratory cake in everyone’s hands.

It reminds me of mine and y/n’s 40th birthday, we had gathered our family and friends here and it was some of their first times meeting our daughter. Today is more intimate, and focused on Bridget.

“I know it makes me sad too, but I’ll be here often, visiting Philippe.”

“Only visiting Philippe?” I raise a brow.

“Is there someone else I’m supposed to be visiting?” She mirrors my raised brow.

As Bridget’s gotten more comfortable, me and her could banter for hours if you let us, it’s one of those things that brought us closer together—having the same sense of humour. It’s allowed us to have just as deep heart-to-hearts, a handy joke always close to the surface.

Y/N always says seeing me like that, thoughtful and silly, reminds her of the boy she fell for. I can’t deny that I’ve been feeling closer to my 20 year old self than my 40 year old self lately.

“She’s too cheeky,” Bridget’s mum says. “But I have to say I’ll be glad to have her back.”

Lou, Bridget’s sister, was moving to Wales. Apparently she wanted to know more about her background, and take a trip with her bio mum to visit her bio dad.

I think Bridget was moving back to Coventry to keep her parents’ loneliness away; she said she would commute to Birmingham for school. Even though she got accepted into law schools in London, going to a uni close to her parents just showed me how close she was to her parents. It was a bittersweet feeling.

“I’ll have somebody to watch cricket with again,” her dad says.

“Ohh,” Bridget throws her sister a side-eye. “I love cricket…”

We all laugh at her complete lack of concealing her true feelings.

Later that night, it’s just Bridget’s parents and us. The kids are on the balcony talking.

“I know we’ve said it before,” I say after a long silence. We’d just been watching the kids talk and laugh outside. “But I want to say thank you again.”

Bridget’s dad shakes his head. “It was the greatest pleasure of our lives getting to raise those two girls.”

He looks over at his wife and they smile at one another. Seeing them interact, I’m grateful that somehow fate had led us to them. While Y/N and I were figuring life out, while I fucked up a lot of things, she was raised on a steady and stable foundation.

“She’s incredible,” I murmur. “She’s gonna be a lawyer. She’s going to change the world.”

“She sure will,” her mum says. “We should be thanking you two. For giving us Bridget. I know it wasn’t easy, you told me you thought about her nearly every day. But we can’t imagine our lives without her.”

We sit in a comfortable silence, looking out at the kids until they notice and start to ask questions through the glass.

“She’s happier,” her mum says smiling at Bridget and Lou exaggerating their words through the glass. “She stopped being like this before she left for uni. We thought we lost her but…I think everything worked out for the best.”

Y/N glances at me. Her eyes crinkle when she finds me looking at her first, her eyes steady me as she says what I was thinking, “I think so too.”

Age 45

Your pov: “When did she say she would be here?”

“6?” Harry says for the tenth time.

“It’s 6:20 do you think something happened? She hasn’t texted has she?”

“My love,” Harry puts down the cutlery he was arranging on the table and holds my face in his hands. “They’re driving from Coventry, they probably hit some traffic.”

“Maybe I should call her?”

Harry sighs and squishes my face.

“Don’t! You’ll make more wrinkles.” I warn.

“I love your wrinkles,” Harry kisses my forehead right where the pesky wrinkles had been growing deeper over the last few years despite the additions to my night routine.

Harry always said our wrinkles were just the stories of our lives showing through. I told him to get himself undereye cream.

“You don’t think I’m aging handsomely?” He strokes the moustache he started growing last year. At this age, even I couldn’t deny it made him even more attractive.

“Well it’s no good if you’re ageing handsomely and I age like a troll.”

“I will love you if you age into a troll.”

“But will you love me if I turn into a worm?”

“Do you even have to ask? I’d buy you the best soil and keep you in a beautiful pot.”

“You wouldn’t take me fishing?” I ask. He sighs. Last year while we were taking a trip up north for Lou’s wedding, we’d gotten into a fight and when I asked him the question while he was still stewing he said he’d take me fishing. It had, ironically, broken the iciness of his anger and we’d laughed about it so hard he’d nearly had to pull over.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” he wraps me into his chest nearly suffocating me.

I’d spent half my life with a lot of difficulties, but life now felt easy compared to it. I had the privilege of getting older with the man I adored, got to watch my daughter flourish as an adult and a lawyer, watch her get married to the love of her life, and all the while live comfortably in the heart of this city I called home.

When Bruno starts barking though, I gasp and push myself off of Harry, “that’s them!”

Bruno continues to bark as I rush to the door. We’d got him a couple years ago as a pup and I can’t believe it had taken us that long to get a dog. He filled our lives with laughter and long walks. We loved him.

“Down.” I say to him. I open the door and hold my hands out while Bruno runs in circles beside me.

“Ahhh sorry we’re late!” Bridget steps into my hug and I tug Philippe’s hood so he can join. Bruno goes for Philippe when they walk in, he’d gotten obsessed with him after Philippe took care of him while Harry and I took an anniversary trip last year.

“Where are my hellos!?” Bridget says to Bruno and he barks, standing on his back legs to paw at her leg.

I hadn’t seen the two of them since March, that was 6 months ago. It had been their wedding, and they’d gone on a month long honeymoon after that, after which Harry and I had taken time off to road trip around Europe with Bruno, and then time had just zipped by.

After a hearty dinner, Harry and I carry out the birthday cake we’d been hiding.

“You didn’t have to do this!” Bridget fans her face but we treat it like we do any special occasion, plus making up for all the ones we’d missed. We get photos and exchange presents, she cries reading the cards and the whole time she says she had a present for us.

It’s a small bag, Harry and I guess that it was something for Bruno but when we take out a box it doesn’t sound like much when we shake it.

“Is this a prank gift? There’s nothing in it?” Harry asks.

“Open it!” He was making me antsy.

“You open it,” he hands me the box. Bridget and Philippe stare intently at my hands.

I undo the bow and slowly open the box. There’s a small square of tissue paper, and then a piece of paper. I remove both but something catches my eye.

I flip the paper over and stop breathing.

“Is that-“ Harry stops talking too. We stare at the piece of paper in our hands. It looks so much like one I had held 28 years ago. But it’s not.

“Bridge,” I look up at the couple. The parents-to-be.

“We’re having a baby,” Bridget says. Philippe and her are gripping hands and I throw everything off of me to launch myself at her.

“A baby!” I hear Harry say and joining us. “You’re having a baby! Y/n!”

“I never thought we’d be grandparents,” I look up at Harry.

“Those wrinkles were coming in for a reason,” he teases.

We never did have any other kids. Quite frankly, neither of us wanted any. When we first got together we were just starting to get comfortable with the reminder that we had a daughter out there and we could talk about her freely with each other. It felt like having a third person in our little family.

After Harry proposed, while we planned our wedding, we talked about it but we never thought it felt right. We both had first marriages where a lack of conceiving had just put a strain on the relationship we didn’t think we needed. We’d also felt like it was betraying something, before we met our first child.

When Bridget did reach out, it became about catching up on lost time. And then with her in our lives we knew what we suspected all along. We had each other, and that was enough. Bridge was our bonus. And getting to be aunt and uncle to our nieces and nephews it was enough. It was a full enough life.

We never even dreamed in our 20s we’d get to be parents and now we would get to be grandparents! I never realized until this moment that I wanted this. Really wanted it.

“Do you know the gender?” Harry asks.

“No,” Philippe answers. “We were thinking of doing one of those reveal parties? But not for a couple months.”

“Wow,” my hands drift down to Bridget’s belly and I remember I had something. I leap away from the group and find the box in my closet, it’s painted pink with random collages from old magazines. It hosts old diaries, photos, a hospital bracelet, and an ultrasound.

“This was you once,” I show her the picture when I get back. “I carried you like that once upon a time.”

She takes it with teary eyes, holding it close to her face to make out the shape of her. She hands it to Philippe and grabs my hands.

“I’ve thought about it before, but when I got pregnant I couldn’t wait to tell you-“

“She kept telling me I had to make a trip out to London just so she could give you the news.” Philippe interrupts, eyes scanning the ultrasound still.

“No really,” Bridget laughs. “I did. It’s like I got this new perspective.”

She puts my hands on her belly and covers mine with hers. I feel everything at once then, all the heartbreak I ever went through to get here.

“I can’t imagine giving this baby up. And it’s barely 3 months. What you were willing to do to give me a better life-“

She breaks off and Philippe squeezes her shoulder. I watch my daughter try to gain control of her emotions. I remember when I was pregnant with her, anything would set me off.

“It must not have been easy. After carrying me like this for 9 whole months. Thank you-“ she looks up to where Harry’s standing. I barely register his hand on my shoulder. “Thank you as my mum and dad, for making the hardest decision I can imagine ever making, so I could have something you knew you couldn’t provide.”

I reel my tears in, save them for later that night in bed while Harry holds me tight against him.

Right now I kiss my daughter and tell her what a good mother she will make. I tell her and Philippe how proud I was of them, how excited, how wonderful this was.

Age 46

The day we meet our granddaughter is seared into my brain. We get the call at 8:35pm, Harry and I were staying in a B&B in Coventry despite Bridget’s mum insisting we stay with her. We’d been here all weekend, booked it all week, not wanting to miss Bridget’s delivery date.

“Y/N she’s here,” her mum whispers into the phone. Her voice is filled with joy and giddiness. “She’s here.”

“We’re coming,” I say. Harry’s already at the door and we rush out into the night to see our granddaughter.

She has the perfect little face, and when she finally wakes up I gasp when I see Harry’s eyes looking back at me. I turn to him, to see if he noticed, but he’s teary-eyed and gazing at the baby in awe. I soak it in for a second, imagining this exact look if we’d kept our baby so many years ago.

Bridget’s parents had given us the room, to give us a moment alone, and I can’t be more grateful. Bridget encourages us to hold her and as her soft body is pressed into my body I let out a sob and hand her over to Harry. I excuse myself and step outside the room.

Lou’s kids sit on the floor outside, playing with whatever toys are spilling out of a miniature backpack. I focus on the flashy colours, trying to calm down, counting the number of toys falling out.

My life was a 180 from 10 years ago. This moment would go down in our history books as one of the best days of our lives.

But I can’t deny the bittersweet. The experience threatens to push me into the bitter past of not even getting to hold Baby Bridget. But with it comes an undeniable sweetness of getting to experience this now.

I take a deep breath and walk back in. Harry and Bridget stop mid-sentence and turn to me. Bridget’s face is streaked with tears, Harry’s looks concerned but I smile. He sits with the pink bundle to his chest and I ache.

“Don’t look so obvious you were talking about me,” I try a joke.

“Are you alright?” Bridget asks.

“May I hold her?” I ask in return.

I sit on the edge of the bed and she’s placed in my arms; she’s perfect. Just as perfect as Bridget must have been.

“She’s got Philippe’s hair,” I gently stroke the wispy blonde strands.

“She’s got my eyes, her grandpa’s eyes.”

I look at Harry. And he catches the stricken look on my face when Bridget tips forward and whispers to her baby.

“Look baby, this is your mumma’s mum, and your mumma’s dad. You’ve got his beautiful eyes. Say hi to grandma!”

My throat tightens. “Bridge.”

She leans away, her eyes dart between us. “I know I call you Y/N and Harry. It made it easier at first but…you are my mum and dad. Even though I have another pair. You are my mum and dad. And I want her to know you like that.”

“Oh love,” Harry leans down and kisses the top of our daughter’s head. She keeps her green eyes trained on me, grasping my hand that’s wrapped under her baby’s.

I mouth a thank you, my voice couldn’t pass through the block in my throat. She squeezes my hand and it sets the baby off. Remembering when my nephews were this young, I just hand her back to Bridget knowing she only wanted her mum.

Harry and I stay in the waiting room. We couldn’t go home, even though we had spent our allotted time we had inside the room, we stay there.

We watch Lou’s kids as Bridget’s family gathers in her room. We stay as they fall asleep, draped over us. I remember when Taylor’s kids were this small, they would fall asleep anywhere.

We talk in whispers, I don’t remember what about exactly. Mostly how excited we were. How there was so much to look forward to. How different our lives looked a decade ago.

“One day we’ll tell our grandkids,” I remember Harry saying. “We’ll tell them all about us, how we met, how our love burned so bright it shone in the sky. We lost each other but our love was always there to guide us back home.”

“We’ll see them grow up, all the memories we missed.”

“We’ll change diapers.”

“We’ll change diapers,” I giggle, half-delirious by the lack of sleep. It was probably 2am and I was tired.

When I gaze up at Harry I remember him holding our granddaughter. I replace her with Bridget. For a minute I allow myself to imagine how that would have been.

“I think you would have made an amazing mum if we did things differently,” Harry whispers into my hair.

“You too.” I whisper back.

“An amazing mum? You think?” The edge of his lips tug upwards.

“Harry,” I warn. We had kids sleeping on us we were trying not to wake.

“I love you.” He says in response. “To the stars and back.”

On our drive home I can’t stop looking at him. I always wondered how it would be like to grow old with someone; when I was younger and watch my own parents celebrate anniversaries. And then when I was older and my first marriage was so rocky.

But thinking about it now is like a simple mathematical equation. You take two lives, two individuals, and you bracket them in love. You add an exponent—the decision to continue choosing each other. And you get a lifelong commitment. No matter the situation, no matter the challenges or the changes, you choose to choose each other.

His side profile lights up by an oncoming car. For a second he’s the same boy I feel in love with, a few more gray hairs, a few more wrinkles, and a moustache. But he’d always be the boy I followed out to the roof, who held my hand in our high school hallway, the one who turned an I into a we when I got pregnant, I see the man I had coffee with after a run-in at the Whole Foods, I see the broken heart from a harsh life sitting on the steps of a church, I see a bookworm, I see a father, a husband, and now a grandfather. I see the one person who knows me like the back of his hand. The one I am home with always.

“What is it?” Harry asks as we pull into our b&b. “Have you been asleep this whole ride or have you been staring at me?”

“Staring at you?” I ask. “You think I was staring at you the whole ride?”

“Well you were really silent. And facing me

“I was thinking.”

“About me?”

“Why are you so desparate!? Do I not show you enough love regularly?”

“I could always use more,” Harry looks half asleep as we reach our door.

“The people are right: you give someone a hand and watch as they take the whole arm,” I tease.

“When you gave me your hand, I made you a wife.” Harry retorts.

“Ooh,” I poke him. “I have to say that’s a good comeback for being half-asleep.”

Harry grins back. “You keep me sharp.”

“And you keep me happy. Now open the door so I can stop freezing out here!”

We walk into the warmth of our b&b.

For so much of our lives, our past decisions haunted us. We let so much go. Now life was repaying us, returning it all back, with interest.

***

In a small b&b in the middle of a town called Coventry, two lovers crawl into bed. They’d just become grandparents and they carry an exhausted buzz about them as they try to fall asleep. They’re both thinking of the other, of their daughter, of the tiny bundle they held in their arms today.

Some 20 minutes away their daughter lays in a hospital bed, an exhausted buzz putting her to sleep. She dreams of her mother who gave her up, how she had found her parents in the end, and dreams about the kind of mother she’ll be.

A few doors down lay her newborn daughter, she doesn’t dream of much, not yet, but she’s in for a lifetime of love.

Most of life is what we made it. Y/N and Harry loved deeply enough to make it.

———————————————

TAGLIST: @quinnwritezz @unknownnbihh @dilfhrrys @umadirectioner @hermionelove @anonymous-91 @meganxfddf

[daisyblog]

Son

Too Young Masterlist Summary: YN and Louis welcome their baby.

It was the 25th of January, and YN was 36 weeks pregnant. Coming towards the end of her pregnancy meant she was faced with aches, pains and discomfort. She had moved into her own house in Manchester a few weeks ago, with the help from Harry and her Mum. Louis had asked her to move closer to London, but YN wanted to be live closer to her Mum so she could help with the baby.

As the boys tour wasn’t starting for another few weeks, Harry was staying with YN to keep her company and to help her get settled in her new home.

Harry had just put up some family photos on the wall as YN had asked, when he noticed her facial expression change as she held her now round bump.

"You alright?". Harry walked closer to where she was standing.

YN nodded. "Yeah...braxton hicks I think.".

"Are you sure? You look like you're in pain.". Harry wasn't an expert but the way YN was starting to hunch over told him different.

"Yeah..they can be painful."

As the afternoon went on, so the pain was getting worse. YN had stopped several times from what she was doing, to breath through the pain.

"I'm phoning Mum." Harry announced as he watched YN hunched over the counter top.

---

YN was admitted to the labour and delivery ward once she had arrived at the hospital due to them suspecting she was in early labour.

When Anne arrived to YN's after Harry's phone call, she knew her daughter may be in labour when she found her taking deep breaths and holding onto her growing tummy. As Harry drove the three of them to the hospital, Anne rang Louis to tell him what was happening.

With Anne by her side, and Harry in the waiting area, a midwife examined YN and confirmed she was in early labour and due to her only being 36 weeks, she would need to go straight to the delivery suite.

"Mum...I'm scared...the baby can't come yet." YN began to feel anxious that her baby was coming early.

Stroking a stray piece of hair from the face, Anne reassured her. "It's okay my darling...you're in safe hands here...I'll be here too.".

---

Louis and Jay had arrived at the hospital around 2 hours after Anne had called. They hurried down the corridors, searching for Harry's familiar face. When they saw him sitting on one of the chairs, Louis ran towards him.

"Hey..is she okay?" Louis asked, knowing how quickly all this had happened.

Harry stood from his chair at the sound of Louis voice. "Yeah she’s alright, my Mum said she's doing okay."

Before Louis and Jay walked towards the large double doors to find YN's delivery room, Harry's voice stopped them.

"Lou?" Louis turned around. "Look after her in there for me.".

Jay smiled at how protective Harry was of his sister. "I will, I promise." Louis reassured him.

---

YN had been in labour for 6 hours, when the contractions had gotten severely worse. She was bouncing on the large birthing ball, trying to ease the pain as she held the gas and air in her hand.

"You're doing so well my love." Anne encouraged her daughter, knowing exactly how she was feeling, having given birth herself.

"You're actually making this look easy sweetheart." Jay also complimented her, having been through this experience many of times. By giving birth herself and being a midwife.

Louis felt useless as he sat on a chair next to the bed. He wanted to help but didn't know how. "Do you wanna hold my hand?" he asked. "You can squeeze it tight whenever you're in pain.".

YN shot him a dirty look. "No keep your hands over there...that's the reason I'm in this pain.".

Anne and Jay shared a look, trying not to laugh at YN's words. "I'm sorry." Louis mumbled.

"I wouldn’t take it personally, lots of the mothers tend to get a little annoyed at their partners during labour.” The midwife who was sat in the room tried to reassure Louis.

“We’re not together.” YN corrected the midwife, in between her contractions. “I had too much vodka and here we are.”.

“YN!”. Anne scolded her daughter, when she saw the sad look on Louis face. YN took more gas and air, as she felt the pain increase. “I didn’t say I didn’t have a good night.”.

Louis eyes were wide as he stared at YN, not believing what she had just said. Anne and Jay were just as shocked and for their own benefit decided it was best they forget what YN had just said.

“When the Mums have gas and air, they tend to say exactly what they’re thinking.” The midwife explained to Louis, to prepare him for else YN may say. ---

Anne and Jay had decided to go for a little walk and to keep Harry company for a little bit, as the midwife had explained that YN’s labour was still in the early stages.

“My back is hurting.” YN cried out as she stood next to the bed, moving her hips gently to try and get some ease. The gas and air still glued to her hand.

“Do you want an epidural?” The midwife asked, as she looked down at YN’s notes.

YN shook her head, as she took another breath of gas and air. “No, I want to do this on my own.”.

“I know this may be a little strange for you.” The midwife began. “But often Mums find the pain eases a little when the partner…or Dads are involved in labour.” Louis glanced at the petite midwife, silently asking her what she was referring to. “Whether that may be holding their hand or just words of encouragement…or often a little back massage.”.

“YN…this doesn’t have to be weird.” Louis quietly spoke. “Let me be here for you.”.

As another contraction hit, YN hunched over the bed and brought the gas and air up to her mouth to take another breath. Louis took control and gently massaged his fingers into the bottom of her back.

“You’re doing really well YN.” The midwife encouraged. “Keep breathing through them.”.

Within a few minutes, a gush of water fell from between YN’s legs, meaning her waters had broke.

“Okay YN, that was yours waters breaking.” The midwife began to explain. “Which is good, but it means the contractions are going to be more painful and frequent.”.

---

A few hours later.

Anne and Jay had returned a few hours ago and was happy to see YN allowing Louis to help. The midwife wasn’t wrong about the contractions, YN clung onto the gas and air and held onto Louis hand as she breathed though each one. “I can’t do this anymore.”.

“You can love…you’re doing it.” Louis moved some of the loose hair away from YN’s face as she sat on the bed. “Just think, our baby will be here soon.”.

YN breathed in the gas and air for what felt like the millionth time, she felt the pain ease. “You can give birth next time.” The gas and air did the talking,

Louis was about to make a joke about him not releasing they were going to have another baby, but he decided it wasn’t the right time, as YN continued to hold onto him for support.

“I feel like I need to push.” YN announced, causing the midwife to stop writing notes.

“If you lay down on the bed, I’ll give you a quick examination.” The midwife pulled on some gloves as YN did asked was asked.

Louis was about to walk to the other side of the room to give YN some privacy, when she reached to hold his hand.

“Good news…you’re 9cm” the midwife announced, causing Anne and Jay to get excited. “What I want you to do is…listen to your body and keep that gas and air close.”

---

YN had been pushing for 30 minutes when she was about to give up. “I can’t do this…I’m so tired.”.

“Darling you’re nearly there…a few more pushes and your baby will be here.”. Anne encouraged her daughter.

“I can see the baby’s head…give me a couple more pushes.”. The midwife added.

“You can do this sweetheart.” Jay spoke, looking at Louis to join in their encouragement.

“YN…I know you’re tired…but just think of how much you want to hod our baby…and think of how much love their going to have…and all the memories we can make.” Louis rambled on, whilst he continued to hold her hand.

Three pushes later and a lot of “I can’t do this”, a loud cry erupted in the room as YN fell back into the pillow on the bed, completely exhausted.

Anne and Jay held eachother as they looked on at the scene, their babies baby. Louis looked towards the midwife, completely in awe of the little baby that she held in her hands.

“Congratulations Mum and Dad…you have a little boy!”. The midwife congratulated them as she placed their son on YN’s chest.

Tears ran down YN and Louis cheeks, as they started down at the precious baby that they had created.

“I’m so proud of you.” Louis placed a peck on YN’s forehead. “You’ve given me the best gift of life.”.

---

It was a couple of hours later and YN was now showered and recovering in her own little room. Anne and Jay had gone to get Harry, as he was now allowed to the ward to see them.

Louis was cradling his new son in his arms, as he sat on the chair next to the bed where YN was resting watching them.

“He looks like you.” YN commented.

“I guess my genes are strong.” Louis joked, as he looked down at his mini self.

“Should we tell them what we’ve named him?” YN asked:

Louis nodded. “Do you think Harry will like it?”.

“I bloody hope so!” YN laughed.

The sound of the door opening, caused them both to look and in came Anne, Jay and Harry.

Harry went straight over to his sister and carefully wrapped his arms around her. “I’m so proud of you…I heard you were amazing.”

“Thanks H”. YN hugged him tighter. “Do you want to meet your nephew?”.

Harry nodded as he looked over at Louis who still had the little one cuddled up in a blanket. “Congratulations mate!” Harry wrapped his arms around Louis, careful not to disturb the sleeping baby.

“Thanks lad!” Louis smiled at his best friend. “Here have a cuddle.”.

Harry held his nephew in his arms after Louis had gently passed him over. “You’ve stamped him well.” Harry directed his comment to Louis, causing everyone to laugh because everyone has commented on how much the baby looks like Louis.

“We’ve decided on a name.” YN spoke. All eyes were now on her waiting for the name to be revealed. “Lou…do you want to tell them?”.

“Arthur Harry Tomlinson!”.

“Oh what a beautiful name!” Anne complimented as she sat next to her daughter on the bed.

“I love it…our little Arthur bear!” Jay smiled widely.

Harry swallowed down the tears that were about to spill. “I love you guys!”.

---

louist91

liked by ynstyles, mrsjohannahdeakin, and 2,469,555 others

louist91 Meet my little lad, Arthur 👶🏻 View all 45,987 comments

niallhoran Congratulations lad x

lottietomlinson my baby nephew ❤️

mrsjohannahdeakin My boy and his boy 💙

zayn congrats man! he's so cute!!

annetwist His Daddy's double ❤️

liampayne Huge congratulations Tommo!! Can't wait for another cuddle x

ynstyles

liked by harrystyles, annetwist, and 966,565 others

ynstyles Arthur Harry Tomlinson 👶🏻 💙 View all 7,347 comments

gemmastyles My precious nephew!!💙 Love you sis x

lottietomlinson ❤️

niallhoran Congratulations!!

mrsjohannahdeakin Beautiful Mama!!xx

harrystyles Proud of you Twin x

sophiasmith Congratulations beautiful girl x

annetwist My two babies ❤️ Love you both xx

louist91 💙

Taglist: @jillsvalentinex @itsmytimetoodream @peterholland04 @youcan-nolonger-run @chronicallybubbly

[magicalrocketships]

hiii i was wondering if you had something new about baby max ☺️

HOW ABOUT THIS LITTLE BIT???? Follows on from Enchanted Light Trail basically but it's just tired travelling.

All earlier parts can be found in this masterpost and on AO3 here (although i've got a couple of bits now to update on AO3).

It's You And Me (I Know It's My Destiny): Max and Daniel Go Home

Max doesn't fall asleep on the plane until they're fifteen minutes away from landing in Nice, which means that Daniel has to try and fumble Max's seatbelt around him without waking him up under the steward's watchful eye, and deal with a crotchety and tired Max as they get off the plane and wait for their luggage and try and gather it all together onto one trolley.

It's exhausting. Max is exhausted, and Daniel hasn't been sleeping well in weeks, and Daniel has all of his stuff and grown up Max's stuff and Max's seven year old stuff and Max's toddler stuff for the 36 hours he spent as Daniel's chunky three year old shadow. He's got their hand luggage and Max's backpack and emergency clothes for if Max got big or got smaller. Max's replacement stuffed Pikachu found himself on the floor in the departure lounge, none of the outlets had food Max wanted to eat, their flight was unnecessarily complicated, time-wise, and Christian couldn't hide his displeasure that Daniel was taking Max home and Max hadn't miraculously woken up big again. 

His head hurts. It really hurts, and he's got no fucking idea where the paracetamol is. It's in one of these bags. Somewhere. 

"Can we go yet?" Max asks, clinging on to Daniel's coat. "Why can't we go yet?"

"I think we're still waiting for one more bag, baby," Daniel says, but part of him just wants to leave it here in the airport, go home and collapse face first into the sheets. 

"No," Max says. 

"Yeah," Daniel says, even though he can see Max is gearing up to lose it. It hasn't been bad, staying with Christian and Geri over new year, but it's been different. Max hasn't liked having to share Daniel with anyone, and he hasn't liked that he had none of his own things. Max likes his own things. He likes his little drawer where he keeps all of his special things (and sometimes Pikachu, when Daniel really likes to sob on the inside). The new Pikachu has been grudgingly accepted but it isn't Max's Pikachu. It doesn't smell right. Max says it feels wrong when he rubs it against his cheek. Daniel could well agree but he's too tired. 

One more bag. 

Their bag rolls around. He dumps it on the top of the trolley. God, he can't remember where he parked his car. Max is looking like he's going to cry. 

"Piggy back?" Daniel asks hopefully once they're finally through customs and Max is tearful and noticeably hanging on by a thread. Max nods so sadly that Daniel's fairly certain no one has ever looked sadder about anything. He hefts him up onto his back, and Max half chokes him as Daniel pushes their stupid overflowing trolley in the general direction of where he thinks his car is. 

He finds the car on the third try, and then has to shove everything into the boot and away. Max doesn't want to be in the car and he doesn't want this Pikachu and he wants to be at home and in his own clothes and hugging his own Pikachu and with his own toys. 

Daniel gets it. He really gets it. He's just not made of magic. 

He ends up telling Max a very stupid story about all the adventures that Pikachu has got up to in the flat without them. Max isn't really one for story telling, but his expression of dubious disbelief is slightly better than him crying, so Daniel will take it. 

And when they finally get home, and Daniel has tiredly failed to even attempt to get all of their bags into the lift in one go. He's got the three bags that look like they're the most useful. Everything else stays in the car. 

Max tucks his hand into Daniel's. 

"Pikachu hasn't really been having adventures," he says doubtfully as the lift doors close. 

"No, baby," Daniel says. "He's at home, waiting for you."

Max nods his little serious nod. He keeps his hand in Daniel's. "My home and your home," he says. 

"Yeah," Daniel says, swallowing down what feels suspiciously like a sob. "Our home."

"Good," Max says. 

The lift doors open again, and Daniel takes him home. 

[stari-hun]

No Storm: Time Traveler AU

Isolde’s Normal Girl Adventures and Kakania Learning to Make Healthy Friendships

This is a bit of a world building post to my Isokania story for my janky modern au. It’s a collection of fun (and not so fun) facts about their lives 

Timeline: Isolde and Kakania start college (Isolde 18 / Kakania 19), Graduate (Isolde 20 / Kakania 21), 5 years later as their lives change (Isolde 25 / Kakania 26), Reunion (Isolde 35 / Kakania 36). 

✰. General Facts About The Two

Isolde is a morning person. She dislikes fluorescent lights and she hates the warm glow of candles even more, so she’d rather just wake up early morning and use natural daylight.

Isolde is the type to randomly drop trauma out of nowhere. While she doesn’t think of it as incredibly traumatic, her friends taught her to air out her thoughts instead of letting people never get to know her. 

✰.

Kakania is a midday person. She dislikes early mornings, but also late nights. She’d rather get the most out of any day, but she doesn’t function well waking up at dawn or staying up super late.

While Kakania had much more freedom than Isolde in her childhood, she still didn’t know a lot about sexuality until far later. It took a lot of talks with Blonney and Jessica after graduation, and once she had started her job, that there was more to it than just liking the same or opposite gender. 

Many people in Kakania’s family have had cataracts later in life, so it’s one of her biggest fears. Once she reached her 30s though, she stopped worrying as much over it because of her health insurance and good eye health. 

✰. Friend Group Content: 

Despite using it as an example, cats are wary of Isolde because of her arcane energy. Dogs are downright terrified of her. Jiu has a picture on her phone of a cat purring with Vila and following her around before it realized Isolde was next to her. 

Isolde is impossible to startle by jumpscares in movies or even the tension from psych horrors, but she can still get scared. She struggles a lot when she thinks about the time she lost as a child to possession.

Tooth Fairy was initially going to be the one to teach Isolde to drive, but after Windsong and Vila saw the way she drove. It was quickly decided Windsong would teach her.

Medicine Pocket, Mesmer Jr, and Vertin aren’t scared of Isolde or unnerved at her at all. It gave her a false sense that children weren’t as afraid of her as animals are. She learned of the misunderstanding when Vila asked her to be her TA during a midterm assignment to do a mock lesson with children. They ended up having to reshoot twice before Matilda is able to keep her eyes off of Isolde. 

Once she got used to her however, Matilda had the chance to teach Isolde some divination skills. In turn, Isolde taught Matilda an arcane spell to do with insight which had been passed down in her family. (It has a VERY low chance of working, but in turn it’s the only completely safe arcanum the Dittarsdorf’s preserved.) 

During the time she lived with Tooth Fairy, Isolde worked at Jiu’s tavern because she she had enough knowledge on alcohol from her studies as a Dittarsdorf. 

For a few months, Jiu became really obsessed with spicy food, and the entire group would eat a lot of the hot foods she’d make in the tavern. While Windsong was her biggest challenger in their quest to see who had the best spice tolerance. Isolde ended up winning overall. Even though she hates when food is too spicy to taste, her ability to keep her cool made her seem like the winner before an hour had passed and Tooth ended up giving her 3 fairies to stop the pain.

Isolde is friends with Desert Flannel but only online. They met through Windsong when she was showing Isolde how to navigate the internet properly and upload videos, and Desert Flannel has a side hustle with indie music editing. 

Isolde has met Tooth Fairy’s parents before during Thanksgiving. Isolde, Jiu, Windsong, and Vila went together after being invited by Tooth Fairy’s parents through her. 

Kakania saw the Film Crew around quite a bit during her first year and even in her second, but she never interacted with them because a situation never came up. She never saw Jessica either until after spring break of their second year. It’s one of the few things Blonney is grateful towards Kakania’s insensitivity for. 

Kakania’s first real mutual bond with the film crew was from the fact that she doesn’t scare easily. She grew up with her best friend being in a long line of mediums, so ghosts don’t scare her. She would also get into danger on her excursions, so she was fully aware of how to handle a dangerous situation with both ghosts and humans. An-An and Horropedia spent a solid month before they found a movie that startled her.

Blonney and An-An Lee took Kakania to Jiu's tavern once, but Jiu didn't really recognize her, and Kakania didn't drink. So it wasn't an eventful incident enough for any of them to remember.

Shortly after graduation, Blonney got into marathon running. Jessica, Blonney, and Kakania completed a few runs over the years until Blonney began working as a director, and Jessica as an actor. But Kakania kept up running even after they stopped marathon prepping, she’s even won first place in a few runs in London. 

Kakania started a therapist twice a month after starting her work at the SPDM. They frequently scold her for ignoring her own signs of stress and the way she hurts herself by exhaustion when she feels frustrated. Whenever Kakania feels like she’s made a huge mistake, she jumps into helping people as much as possible, even when it's hurting her, until the episode has passed.

Vila and Kakania have run into each other on occasion from Kakania being the children in her classes' therapist. Even though she had been on somewhat friendly terms with Tooth Fairy as a coworker, Vila had no plans of making the same kind of friendly truce between her.

Kakania has heard of how Isolde is doing, just without her knowledge and not from Tooth Fairy. An-An Lee got really interested in Isolde for a good amount of time after she did an interview for a news station on what it was like being a Dittarsdorf and around ghosts all the time. An An took it as a good learning opportunity and even kept up with her for a while when she’d answer questions on social media. 

✰. Already Settled into their Lives Apart 

By the time Isolde was 25, she had started having wards sewn into all of her custom clothing in order to ward off possession after a particular episode revealed to her therapist her habit of using it to cope. She’s powerful enough either way that if she was in a serious amount of danger to need possession, she could drag a ghost into her past the wards, but they’d still give her more control over the possession than she’d have without. 

✰. Bonus ! 

At one point after their reunion, Kakania and Isolde go back to Vienna together, and Kakania realizes that nostalgia is what had made the Austrian food in New York taste good.

[pinesfamilyguidetotheweird]

Gravity Falls Thoughts: Ford and Trauma™ Part 2 (Forced Insomnia)

Annnnnd here we are with Part 2 of Ford and Trauma™!

Last time, we tackled the likelihood of Ford living off of pills and coffee over the last 30 years. So, what’s the logical next part?

Perhaps one of the most popular Ford ships out there!

Ford x Sleeeeep!!!!

Or…his problems with it. Let’s go with that.

If Gravity Falls went a bit longer (like if it had 3 seasons), this could have been a running gag of sorts for Ford, his lack of sleep or at least the repercussions of said lack of sleep, such as him dozing off in weird places.

And you can blame a certain dream demon for that.

Not long after Ford learns of Bill’s true colors, Ford did anything he could to prevent Bill from having any control of the situation…that includes depriving himself of sleep due to his deal with Bill.

…Yeah…um…there is a glaring issue on that plan, I must say. And that is the fact that depriving yourself of sleep…will not be beneficial in the long run.

According to Healthline, there are 5 Sleep Deprivation Stages, each stage is determined by the many hours of no sleep.

Stage 01 is after 24 hours of no sleep. A personal fact here, y’all: I’ve done this before twice in my life, staying up for about 24 hours…it was not fun both times.

While not necessarily a cause for major problems, there will be some issues, such as decreased alertness, drowsiness, fatigue, increased risks of mistakes…

Stage 02, after 36 hours (A day and a half), and you’ll start experiencing severe cognitive impairment. Not to mention an overwhelming desire for sleep and the likelihood of having microsleeps (short bouts of sleep that lasts for about 30 secs) is possible.

Come Stage 03 (after 48 hours) and hoooo…boy, things aren’t lookin’ good at all! This is where hallucinations can start setting in. Which, in Ford’s paranoid case, is a definite cause for concern. And there’s depersonalization, anxiety, heightened stress levels, increased irritability, and extreme fatigue. Microsleeps becomes more of a guarantee. And you won't realize it.

At Stage 04 (after 72 hours), along with more frequent and longer microsleeps, the hallucinations could get more complex.

Then finally, at Stage 05 (after 96 hours and more), you’ll start to experience a little thing called sleep deprivation psychosis, when your perception of reality is severely distorted due to lack of sleep.

So…not much of a shock to see this…

And we don’t even know how long Ford had been trying to keep himself awake. Even Journal 3 (I have the regular edition) doesn’t provide the answer for this except for the mad scrawlings of CAN’T SLEEP and the hellish amount of coffee he drank.

This can also explain his insistence on preserving his journals instead of just destroying them. He’s not thinking clearly due to lack of sleep.

It is possible to recover from this, though, it will take a while.

It can take days or weeks to recover from a bout of sleep deprivation. Just 1 hour of sleep loss requires 4 days to recover. The longer you’ve been awake, the longer it will take to get back on track.

And considering that Ford got sucked into the Portal before he could have a moment for well deserved rest…kind of a similar situation to his crap diet while on the run, how often was Ford able to get a full night's rest? I mean...look how he sleeps now, in day wear with his coat, glasses, and boots on, like he has to be prepared to book it...

It’s honestly a wonder that Ford came back to our dimension without sporting some eyebags that would give Shouta Aizawa (or even Toshinori Yagi) a run for his money.

…Question: So, Bill had free reign of entering Ford’s mind when he sleeps, right? Did Bill still do that during Ford’s travels up until he got that plate installed?

...So, what should I talk about next? The bullying Ford had to endure? Father of the Year, Filbrick Pines? Possible complex PTSD? Major Guilt? Wounds and potential complications? Bill -fucking- Cipher and the abuse?

[lostintransist]

Liaison | Part 7 | Shots, Shots, Shots

Check out part one here. Up to chapter 36/38 on AO3.

A knock on your desk pulled your attention from work. Gaz stood at your desk. You hadn’t seen him in months.

“Gaz!” You leap up from your chair and throw your arms around the man. He sported a goatee now, it looked good on him.

He hugged you back tight. “Hey there, I missed you.”

“I missed you too! I scheduled you to be back here at least three times since I saw you last but nooo you had to go and play hero with KorTac,” you rolled your eyes as you stepped back from the hug.

All eyes in the office were on you two but you ignored them. Gaz, without argument, had to be your best friend. He matched your level of crazy and understood your side-eye communication without explanation.

Gaz reached up and tugged lightly on your dangling earring.

“Fuck you Liaison I am a hero! At least to a couple of women who wanted to say thank you if you know what I mean.” He waggled his brows.

Slapping your hands to your ears you loudly drown him out with a la-la-la-la. His booming laugh could be heard above your panicked off-key chanting. Gaz settles into the chair at the edge of your desk, hand digging into the fidget basket you set up originally for him. Everyone used it when they came to chat.

Trusting he would not tell you any more about his escapades you settled into your chair, folding your legs into the seat. You had used the company card to buy a new office chair the second you got your hands on it. The one you had bought last year at Costco with Harold and Gaz wouldn’t stay upright and getting dumped onto your head was not a great way to start any day.

“How late do you work today?” Gaz spins a small chain around one finger.

“I only have maybe an hour left of work?” Filling one cheek with air you force it back and forth in your cheeks before blowing it out. “Unless someone accidentally shoots a diplomat again.”

“That was not my fault!” Gaz halts his spinning chain to point angrily at you. “You know it wasn’t my fault. We cleared all civilians but that fucker pulled his diplomatic passport and some rookie didn’t toss him out on his ass anyway.”

You grin, a light laugh showing you aren’t serious. It wasn’t Gaz’s fault, but the mess it caused you to clean up gave you the right to tease him about it.

“Any idea what you want to do tonight?” Gaz changes the subject.

“Wanna go shooting?”

At the opportunity to fire a gun Gaz brightens significantly.

“Shooting sounds great, dinner after?”

“Sure but you are not allowed to choose. The last place was not Mexican food and you cannot convince me it wasn’t a horror masquerading as a restaurant.”

“Deal.”

❈❈❈

“What the hell is this?” Gaz gestured to the large room with long open rooms lined up.

The bow and arrows decorating the space should have given it away.

“A shooting range,” you reply as if he couldn’t see that himself.

“I thought we were going to shoot guns, not bows?”

The half-smirk you give him causes him to squint at you.

“One would think by now you would remember to confirm before agreeing to an activity with me,” you fight down a smile.

Gaz shoves you, laughter spilling between your bodies.

“You are unbelievable, I have to stop agreeing to do things with you.”

“Actually you just need to stop trusting me to tell you the whole truth,” you wipe at the tears in your eyes from laughing.

Seeing someone come out of a back room you make your way over.

“Hi, can I get two lanes for 30 minutes?”

“Will you need to rent the bow and arrows as well?” The teenager asks already tapping away at the screen in front of him.

“Yes, please. Can I have a 40-pound draw and,” looking back at Gaz you make a decision, “a 30-pound draw?”

“Sure, have you both been here before?”

“I have, but my friend hasn’t.”

The teenager nods, tapping the screen a few more times. He quotes the total due and you tap your card before Gaz has a chance to pull out his wallet. The first time the two of you had gone out to dinner had been a battle to pay the bill. He would do his best now to cover dinner but you had called and prepaid.

“Okay sir, please fill out this waiver while I get everything together for you.” The paper and pen are placed on the counter.

Gaz reviews each line before he signs.

“Why give me a lower draw weight?” He taps the end of the pen against the counter.

“Because while you might work out I know this will be new for you and I don’t need you bitching at me in the morning because you can’t lift your arms.”

The teen comes back passing over both bows and a quiver of arrows.

“You guys will be on number 7, go down to the right and it will be near the middle.” The young worker disappeared back into a room beyond sight.

“Ready to see what you can do?”

Having been here several times you know where you are going. Setting the arrows point down in the provided container you pull out a single one. Notching the arrow you draw and let it fly.

“We will fire all of them and then collect so no one accidentally gets shot,” turning, you watch Gaz test the string of the bow.

He pulls and relaxes the string twice before he notches an arrow and misses so badly. He glares at your sputtered laughter.

“Couple things, you want full extension of your bow arm and to pull the arrow back to at least your face. Aim slightly higher than you think since gravity affects arrows faster than bullets and commit. When you let it fly don’t hesitate.”

You draw up another arrow, watching as it sinks into the target. Nowhere near the bullseye but not on the ground. Gaz takes his turn next until the arrows are all spent and none of his has touched the target. Confirming with Gaz you both move down the range to collect your arrows. He does not appreciate your rendition of “Shots” by Lil John. The laughter and Lil John remains the soundtrack of the night.

Before your time is up Gaz asks to try drawing on your bow. You pass it off.

“Holy fuck Liaison, I didn’t think you were serious.”

“Why would I joke about being stronger than you? This is probably the only time I can do it.” You stepped behind him and tapped both shoulder blades. “Draw again but try and make these touch.”

Gaz does as instructed, a light manly grunt coming out of him.

When your half hour is up you collect everything and return it to the teen working the counter. Bounding up the stairs you catch sight of a flash of white on black disappear as you approach the door to leave. Gaz is waiting outside for you, smoking a cigarette.

Waving a hand in front of your nose you tell him that you are going to go wait over by the alley until he is done. Cigarette smoke coated your mouth and tasted disgusting. Your back to the alley you address your stalker.

“Thought stalking was below your pay grade Gengar.”

“You’re too friendly with Gaz.”

“Right,” you drag the word out, “I’m too friendly with one of my only friends on this half of the planet. That makes absolute sense.”

The silence behind you raises the hair on the back of your neck, a puppeteer in fear.

Gaz wanders up, a lingering tang of smoke heralding his arrival.

“Ready for dinner?”

“Yep, we are hitting an Ethiopian restaurant. I’ve already been once, and the family that runs it is from Ethiopia. I can’t handle any of this bland British nonsense.”

Gaz sputters in defense of his country. He finds none being as well-traveled as he is. Knowing the darkness still stalks you you fire off a bird toward the man who has decided you are too friendly.

@nicroyal02

Part 6

Masterlist

[lover-girl-estxx]

Your Here

*not my gif*

- i don't know what this is but it's been on my mind - 36 -

| Mitch's POV |

I was cleaning up the bar and Dwight and Tyson were the only one seated there, the closed sign on it was about 2am when the door opened "oh sorry he's closed" Tyson said I looked up "no i'm not" Tyson looked to me. She was in a long black sundress on her hair pulled back "Y/n" I said as she sat a couple seats down from the guys "Mitch" "who's that" Tyson whispered "boys we're close" Dwight and Tyson got up and left. "what are you doing here" I asked she shrugged "are you clean?" I ran a hand through my beard "yeah...6 years" "6 years? wow good job" I nodded "thanks" I said quietly "kinda a bitchy thing to ask but I just" "you can ask that question Y/n its okay" we didn't talk for a while she didn't look at me either I mean what do you say to your Ex-Wife you haven't seen in 12 years. "why you sittin' here like us splitin' up is your fault?" she looked up at me "part of it was" "you asked for it cause I was an ass I don't blame you for that " "thank you" "wanna sit in a booth you can ask me whatever if that's what you want cause I have questions for you" I slightly chuckled she gave a small smile "yeah".

"you been with anyone?" I asked "um yeah two boyfriends" "how long?" "one year with one at 27 and 3ish years with the other like from 30 to 34" "why'd ya leave them?" "why do ya think I left them and not the other way around" "no one would ever break up with you" I shrugged she blushed "I just did" "I guess that works" I chuckled "how bout we just do what's happened in the last 12 years" she chuckled "okay you want me to go first?," she nodded "um at 24 I got locked up for 7 years got clean in there so started this up at 33 and i'm now working with the guy that was at the bar" "why'd you go to prison" "got in a bar fight would've only got a year but had pills and shit on me," she nodded "now you" "I work for a sports company doing photos and editing and stuff dated the first broke up with him moved to Texas, got with the other guy broke up like two year ago that's it really which is kinda sad" "well I went to prison" we chuckled.

"its 4 shit" she said looking at her phone then got up, I stood up too "where are you staying?" "ahh motel little ways away" "no come stay at my place" "its okay Mitch" "come on you drank a bit i'll drive you" she smiled "okay". "you plan on sticking around? I asked "yeah....i'm looking for a place" I nodded.

Y/n fell a sleep on my couch I was making a bed on the floor "what is she doin here" my dad asked "shh she's sleepin' " I whispered "she came back looking for you again?" "Again?" "She came looking for you when you were away" "why didn't you tell me that?" "Didn't think it would be a good for you, you weren't like you are now" I sighed "tell me stuff like that" "I just didn't she only came for like an hour" .

| Y/ns POV |

I sat on the couch hitting Mitch's legs "shit I'm sorry I didn't know you were there" he groaned "it's okay" his deep southern drawl rasp out, I rubbed my eyes and grabbed my phone "what time is it?" He asked "12" "oh I gotta get ready to go to the bar" he hopped up and threw his jeans back on I reached over and grabbed my shoes putting them on "can I work at the bar today or you want me to go to a coffee shop or something?" "bars fine it doesn't start picking up till like 5 so" "that's perfect okay cool".

"oh well hello" Mitch said the two same men from last night "your like five hours late" the younger man said "yeah late night," I slapped his shoulder "what?" "sounds like we slept together" "does not" I shook my head "it does" the guy said "Y/n this is Tyson and Dwight" "hi nice to meet you" I shook they're hands "nice to meet you" the man Dwight I smiled "how do you know Mitch?" I looked over to Mitch "I think you'll just have to figure that out" "my office is just around the corner" "thanks". I changed and got ready in his office then went to work in one of the booths "shes my ex-wife if you must know ty" Mitch whispered "then what she doing here?" " i'm helping her out while she trys to find a place" "what's she do?" Dwight asked him "not that sure you'll have to ask her".

After awhile of talking with Dwight he asked "you should work for me" I laughed "you have sports photos you need edited?" "no but other stuff you'll know when stuff coming up" he said and walked away "okay". Mitch sat down next to me and handed me a plate of food "thanks" he nodded "what did he say?" "I don't know but I think am now in the mafia from what I can tell" I whispered he laughed.

the bar filled not much room to even sit but I finally found a seat next to the stage "anyone sitting here?" I asked "you" the guy said "thank you" I sat down holding a cold beer in my hand, Mitch make is way to the stage sitting on the stool he started to play a few notes and his song writing started to sing, I smiled at him before taking a sip from my beer. His third song ended and he cleared his throat before looking at me "I have a song that I think would match the night pretty while I just need some help from someone in the crowd"

| Mitchs POV |

she blushed and shook her head "this beautiful lady right here" I pointed to her the older woman behind her pushed her shoulder and smiled mouthing go, Y/n sighed and drank her beer before coming up next to me "I hate you" she smirked "I know," I smiled and handed her the mic "what song?" "ours".

You look like you love me

she looked up at me as she sang or closing her eyes not to look at the crowd of people. But when she looked at me it wasn't just cause of the people I could tell. "give it up for this lady right here," I said clapping my hands "you did great" I told her "thanks" she lighted smiled handing me the mic.

a/n : this is so bad lmk if y'all even want a part two

[a-killer-obsession]

🔞 Minors DNI 🔞

A search for a rumored Vegapunk weapon leads the Kid Pirates to an unexpected new crewmate, with a bloodlust that rivals their own and an incredible power.

CW: Please check AO3 for all current warnings, but general warning for smut, slow burn, serious gore, and really dark themes. AFAB reader, she/her pronouns.

Masterlist || AO3 || Chapter 1

Chapter 36 - Breaking Point, Side A

Tensions flare in the aftermath of a traumatic night.

Word Count: ~3.5k

Taglist: @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @tremendoushorsepatrolgoth @iggy5055 @eyes-ofhell

Dawn's crying woke you both up only a few hours later, Heat quick to urge you to rest and collecting her from the crib. You sat up, knowing full well she was probably hungry. You didn't know how old she was but you guessed only a few months, she probably wanted to feed every four or so hours. Your breasts were aching for release anyway, now that they had been drained once it felt like your body was kicking into overdrive, your breasts noticeably heavier and firmer than they had been the last few days. Maybe this is what the books meant when they talked about your milk coming in. Either way, you were just as eager to feed her as she was to eat, her cries making your breasts leak and wet your shirt. You held your hands out for her and Heat lowered her to you carefully, as her little arms escaped from the swaddle and refused to let go of his finger.

She was quick to latch again, and you could see now in the daylight that her eyes were a sparkling blue. It hurt, with the blonde puff of hair and blue eyes she looked the way you imagined your own baby might have. Come to think of it, you hadn't even named him. You couldn't afford to dwell on it now, there was a very much alive orphaned little girl currently on your breast who needed you to keep your head. So young and yet she'd already been through so much. Heat watched with fascination as she made small squeaking sounds and kept his finger in a surprisingly strong grasp, forcing him to cuddle up against you, not that either of you minded. You let yourself rest against him, his free hand squirming its way behind you to wrap around your waist, giving in to the fantasy that this was your little family. That nothing traumatic had led to this strange situation, this was entirely normal and comforting, before the stress of reality reared its ugly head.

“What are we gonna do Heat?” You sighed.

“I'm gonna go out and grab a bunch of stuff as soon as you're okay with me heading out,” he replied, “whatever you need, I'll get it”

“My mask,” you pouted, “it's back on the ship”

“I'll get it,” he clenched his teeth, “you just stay here and rest, just focus on yourself and Dawn, I'm gonna take care of both of you don't worry about anything. The doctors said you need to be on bedrest for at least a week, after last night I'm enforcing that. You're not lifting a finger till you're recovered”

Together you made a list of everything you thought you needed, and against his desires he left to fetch them, putting a very milk drunk Dawn back in the crib before heading out, leaving you to get a little more much needed sleep. He decided to do the hardest part first, heading back to the Victoria to grab your mask. He hoped everyone would be asleep as it was still very early morning. He sauntered up the gangplank as quietly as he could and head underdeck to the infirmary where he'd last seen your mask, after Mohawk removed it during your operation. Thankfully it was still sitting in place on the back counter, a little blood on it still but otherwise unharmed.

“You wanna explain where the fuck you were going with my girlfriend and packed bags last night?” An aggressive baritone came from behind him. He turned to the masked first mate, a scowl on his face as he used his height to feign confidence over the shorter blond.

“She's not your girlfriend, or did Kid not pass on the message?” Heat spat back at him, “she said, and I quote, ‘he and I are over, we're done’. You pushed her too far Killer, she's done with you hurting her”

“Me? Hurting her?” He let out a laugh, a genuine unhindered one that threw Heat back in surprise. “She killed my fucking baby, she should have fucking listened when I told her it was too dangerous”

“A marine killed your baby Killer,” Heat yelled, surprise quickly overruled by anger, “her baby, that she grew and nurtured and could feel inside her. A baby you didn't even plan on having! You're not the only one grieving, you're just the only selfish prick acting like it's all about you. Hasn't she fucking been through enough? She delivered her own fucking dead baby in the middle of a battle and you won't even look at her. She needed you and you fucking abandoned her, just like you always do! It took her so long to let you back in after your last fuck up and in the blink of an eye you managed to fuck it all up again”

Killer punched Heat hard, his jaw making an audible click as his face was forced sideways. If he was anyone else he might have been sent flying, but he was just as strong as the blond, bodying the hit like it was nothing. He turned his head back to Killer and grabbed a fist full of his shirt, raising him off the ground like he weighed nothing.

“You want a baby so fucking bad? Go knock some whore up,” Heat spat, “because apparently that's all she was to you. Just a fucking broodmare. She'll never carry another child again, so you better go get to work finding a new incubator cos she can't do it anymore. Did you ever even love her or was she just convenient? Just a quick way to get what you wanted?”

“Of course I loved her!” Killer shouted as he forced his way out of Heat's grasp, “love her” he corrected himself.

“Then fucking act like it,” Heat shoved him hard, Killer's back connecting with a infirmary cot. “She spent the last three days waiting for you to man up and go to her, and instead you just sat around here twirling your hair and acting like the whole world is against you. Pull your fucking head out of your ass Killer. She just went through something traumatic and you're too busy grieving the dead to see the living. You know where Wire found her last night? On the edge of a fucking cliff. Getting ready to fucking jump. You did that, you drove her to think shes worth so little that she'd be better off dead, her death would have been blood on your hands Killer”

“She… I didn't know,” he said quietly, mask tilted away, unable to look at Heat for the shame he felt.

“Of course you didn't, because you haven't fucking talked to her,” Heat growled, “if you had then you'd know how fucking torn up she is, how much she's blaming herself. She thinks you only loved her because of the baby. You know what she said to me when she woke up in the infirmary, after your stroppy ass stormed out without even looking at her? She said tell him I'll make him another one, you should have seen the heartbreak on her face when I told her she couldn't, because she thinks the only reason you want her is to make babies. She'd just lost her baby, fought for her life after almost bleeding to death, and found out she'd never carry another child, and all she was thinking about was you, how disappointed you'd be with her. It's fucked Killer, you're fucked for putting those thoughts in her head. All you had to do was fucking be there for her, but you were too fucking selfish to do the bare fucking minimum”

Killer slumped down against the cot and put his head between his knees. A harsh sob came from him, but Heat didn't have it in him to comfort him, he didn't deserve comfort, not after the hurt he'd inflicted on the woman Heat loves. The firebreather gave him a tsk and started rummaging in the cabinets for pain medication for you, knowing you were still physically hurting immensely even if you didn't say it when you made the list.

“I'll… I'll do better,” Killer cried.

“That's what you told her last time,” Heat scorned.

“I didn't mean to shut her out, I just… I needed someone to blame,” he said sadly.

“Then blame the fucking marines! Don't go blaming her! She didn't do shit!” Heat yelled, “and for the fucking record, it could have happened outside of battle anyway, its not uncommon. Would you still have blamed her then, or would you finally have some fucking sympathy? How much does she have to suffer before you decide she's worthy of your comfort?”

“Where is she?” Killer asked.

“None of your fucking business,” Heat growled. “You and Kid have three days to apologise and grovel before the log pose resets, otherwise you're sailing away without the three of us. You wanna talk, you talk to me, I have my mini den-den, you're not getting near her till I say you can”

“Three?” Killer asked.

“They didn't tell you shit did they?” Heat half laughed, “she went to that cliff to kill herself, but instead some lady with the same idea handed her a baby and jumped”

“I… I saw it last night… I thought it was a ghost,” Killer's eyes were wide with surprise under the mask. He'd seen the small bundle, asleep in your arms, but it hadn't made any sense so he'd chalked it up to a mania induced hallucination.

“Yeah well, she's keeping it, but not on this ship, not after what Kid said,” Heat scorned.

“What did Kid say?”

“He called her a worthless whore and a life ruiner,” Heat tutted as he gathered some shit in a plastic bag, “real nice stuff to someone who just lost her baby and was forcibly sterilised, like we hadn't just found her trying to kill herself”

“I wanna talk to her,” Killer grabbed Heat's pants as he walked past. Heat kicked his hand away and kept moving.

“Too fucking bad, she's busy and she's tired and she doesn't want shit to do with you,” Heat replied coldly.

Killer watched Heat move as a realisation dawned on him. Heat had never spoken to him or Kid like this, the man was usually obedient and loyal, more akin to a puppy than the territorial wolf he was being right now. “You love her, don't you?”

“So what if I do?” Heat replied, “even if she never loves me back, I would never hurt her the way you have. She deserves better.”

“Oh, and you're better?” He scoffed.

“Well Killer, I didn't fucking leave her to mourn on her own after she lost her baby,” Heat spat, “in fact, I was the one there for her, every second I could be. I'm the one who was with her every minute I could be for the last three days, when all she wanted was her so-called loving boyfriend. So yeah, I'd say I can do better. I am doing better. I'm picking up your fucking mess but I'll do it happily because she means the fucking world to me.”

“So what, you're just gonna go play house with her and some stranger's baby?” Killer laughed.

“If that's what she wants, yeah,” Heat replied, “and if she doesn't, I'll support that too, because she's a fucking human being with her own thoughts and feelings that deserve to be recognised, not just a hole for you to breed. Maybe it's for the best, this way she gets to have a baby and she isn't stuck tied to your pathetic excuse of a man. You're a fucking coward Killer, you talk big game but when it comes down to it you're just a scared little boy who thinks he can just ignore his problems till they go away. The worst thing is that people still care about you, but you ignore them too. Hell she probably still cares about you. But you act like the whole fucking world is against you. Really it's just you, hiding away in your room and tearing shit up, refusing to take your meds just so everyone will treat you like the victim, when you could have been out there comforting her when she needed you. She never would have gone to that cliff if you'd just fucking let her in, if you'd let her mourn with you. You're fucking lucky some random woman decided to hand her a baby and off herself or Yin would be dead right now. Even if she ever forgives you, I might not, because what you did was selfish and cruel, and you almost took her from me because of it, from all the people who care about her. So much for the dangerous Massacre Soldier Killer, you're just a pathetic little man who can't even comfort a woman when she so desperately needed you. You should've stuck to whores, emotions are clearly too advanced for you.”

“Are you done?” Killer growled, standing now with his arms crossed in front of Heat as the taller man cussed him out.

“Far fucking from it,” he growled, “but she needs me, and unlike you my head isn't too far up my own ass to see, so I'll be going now. Have a nice life, Massacre Soldier”

Manic laughter followed Heat out into the hall, all the way until he reached the gangplank and fled far enough for the sound to no longer travel.

Dawn was back on your breast when Heat returned, making you jump at first before his wild mop of blue hair appeared, using his ass to open the door because his hands were too full. Comically, he was wearing your mask on his head to save hand space, but it was clearly far too small for him, sitting on a mound of hair instead of his actual head. You snorted as he entered the room, putting down the large armfulls of bags with a heavy sigh of relief. He pulled the mask from his head and set it on a dresser before collapsing on the bed next to you, his hands over his chest and his eyes closed.

“She sure eats a lot huh?” Heat noted, turning his head to the side to watch Dawn. Her little arms were wiggling around like she was searching for something, so he turned to his side and offered her his hand. Her fingers wound around one of his and he couldn't help but blush. Given his big, somewhat scary appearance he wasn't used to small vulnerable things being so fearless with him. “Small but strong too”

“I don't know how old she is, but she seems to want to eat every three or four hours,” you replied with a yawn, “God I'm so tired. And hungry”

“I got you some food from the bakery down the street but you'll have to wait till little miss here releases me so I can grab it,” he laughed, trying to reclaim his finger but her grip was iron tight.

“You're the fucking best Heat,” you smiled, half lidded in your exhaustion. He didn't envy you, he hadn't exactly had much sleep either between when the nurses kicked him out of the hospital and when Kid had called them all for an emergency meeting about Killer, but then he wasn't putting all his energy into feeding another living being while recovering from a traumatic birth and major surgery. By the time Dawn was thoroughly milk drunk and nodding off again, you were nearly asleep, leaning against his chest with his arms around you to keep you upright, now that the small one had released her insane grip on his finger. He took Dawn carefully from your hold and put her back in the crib, admiring her for a moment before returning his attention to looking after you.

He rummaged in the bags and brought over the baked goods and a bottle of water, and you could barely open your eyes as you accepted them and sleepily nibbled. He had to take the remnants from your hand as you started to slouch over, a fond smile on his face at how cute you were in such a sleepy state, your lips turned upwards just the tiniest bit at the corners.

“Heat, do you love me?” You mumbled against his chest as you both got settled under the covers, your warm breath tickling the bare parts of his chest through the lacing of his corset. His breath hitched at the question, taken entirely by surprise and feeling like a deer in headlights. “Sorry,” you apologised, feeling the way he tensed, “I just… last time we slept together, it felt like more than just two friends fucking. I thought maybe you loved me. It's okay, I'm not mad if you don't, I just… thought”

“I do love you,” he breathed, his whole body still tense. He thought he might puke from the anxiety, worried the next words out of your mouth would be disgust or rejection. Nobody had ever loved him like that before, not in a romantic way. He was used to meaningless hookups during short stays at islands with people he'd never see again. The way you made him feel was entirely foreign, which is probably why it'd taken him so long to name the feeling.

“I know I said once that I didn't think I could fall in love with you,” you said softly, intertwining your fingers with his, making him relax a little, “but I think maybe that was a lie. You give me butterflies, Heat. And you make me feel so safe, you always have.”

He let out a shaky breath and a tear rolled down his cheek, he didn't realise just how stressed he was till you noticed the glistening trail and wiped it with your thumb. Your eyes bore into his, suddenly more alert now as you inspected his perpetually sad face before pressing a soft kiss on his mouth. You pulled away with a sigh, your forehead resting on his.

“I didn't notice you falling for me, I should have noticed,” you whispered,”I'm so sorry Heat. I'm… I'm going through a lot right now, but just knowing you're here, that at least one person in this godforsaken world wants me is enough to make me want to live”

“I thought you were dead,” his tears flowed freely now, his hands shaking as he finally processed the last three days. He'd been trying so hard to keep it together, to stay strong for you, because he knew you needed him, but those walls were crumbling so fast under your warm touch. “After the hospital said you left, we followed your vivre to where we knew the cliffs were, and it was burning. I knew physically you were fine, but for your resolve to be so set that your vivre burned… I… I thought I'd lost you. I only just realised how much I loved you after Quincy hurt you but I thought you were going to die last night thinking nobody loved you and I just… I never would have been able to live with myself. I should have told you sooner but I was so scared you'd hate me for it or that it'd ruin our friendship”

“Oh Heat,” your own tears started to meld with his as you pressed your cheeks together, your arms tight around his shoulders as he started to sob against you, the dam collapsing under the immense pressure of his emotions. “I'm so sorry, I'm so fucking sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, I was just so fucked up and I just couldn't take it anymore. I should have seen you there, I should have known you were there for me like you've always been, I've been such a ghost lately that I didn't see” You held his head gently in your hands, his dark eyes glassy with tears as he sniffed and looked at you, “I'm not ready right now, but I have no intention of leading you on. I'm gonna find the strength to say those three words Heat, because I know I feel them, I just can't bring myself to say them right now. Please don't stop loving me, you're all I have”

His lips crashed against yours, pain and fear and love and overflowing intangible emotions bursting at the seams as his tongue fought against yours and his hands held you close against him. You could feel his growing erection against your thigh so you slid your hand down his front, threading it under the waistband of his baggy pants, desperately needing to make him feel good, to alleviate your guilt after the hurt you'd put him through. He let out an almost pained whine as you started to pump him, his kisses messy and half focused as you serviced him, till he couldn't focus on anything else anymore and all he could do was pant against your shoulder. It didn't take him long to cum, so wound up from the overbearing stress that the release you gave him had him letting out a stuttered groan as he came, his seed spilling over your hand and lubricating his cock as you worked him through it.

“Shh, I've got you,” you cooed as you made your final slow strokes, his breath hot on your shoulder as he gripped you tight like he was afraid you would disappear forever if he let go. It was almost painful, given your sore breasts and surgery site. “Heaaaat, loosen your grip baby, I'm not going anywhere, I promise”

He let go a little but refused to entirely remove his hold on you, but you were more than fine with that now that the pressure wasn't painful. You held his head close to your heart and stroked his hair, and your steady heartbeat and tender caresses in the afterglow of his orgasm finally lulled him to sleep. You breathed a sigh of relief that he was finally relaxed, and you soon followed suit to take advantage of what rest you could get before Dawn inevitably woke you up again.

[NEXT CHAPTER]