#anyway she's everything to me but that's nothing new | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kiryoutann · 1 day

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Before reading, please check series masterlist to read the warning(s), disclaimer, and to make sure you’re on the right chapter. Minors do NOT interact.

[Please read while listening to this.]

IF THERE WERE TRUTH IN REINCARNATION, you would beg to be reborn as a kitten. A cherished kitten who was allowed to sit on a human's lap whenever looking for warmth. Perhaps if people saw you as a nice, furry creature acting cute, they wouldn't hurt you. Perhaps if they thought of you as a creature simpler to understand, they wouldn't abandon you.

Being a human child is weary work. They say you were created from the proof of love between two inseparable people; your very breath is a testament to their unbreakable union. And your identity is sculpted by the undeniable beauty they believed the world possessed, compelling them to bring forth new life to share in the splendor of it all.

So, who are you now after they've parted ways? Father was no longer just your father; he had formed a new family with another two daughters as evidence of his love for a woman who wasn't your mother. You are no longer his favorite, and surely you are not the only one. Meanwhile, Mother is only left as a vengeful woman, reacting with anger each time she glimpses traces of your father in you—in your words, mannerisms, or even thoughts. Any divergence from her own beliefs, she considers defiance.

(Didn't you say, I am proof of their love? Don't you know, that promises can be broken and roots can be severed. Marriage should be forever until it isn't. Then, who am I if they are no longer love each other?)

The pitiful child of man shuffled through the world; full of despair, without self-identity. Not daddy's little girl, no longer a copy of mommy. The soft hair that was once braided was more like a tapestry full of wounds piled up early on. However, no one knows this – they say, “What do little children know about adult problems?” and yet, your body ended up bleeding internally from continuously swallowing the thorns spit out by your two originators.

Forced to grow—my spine wasn't developed enough to be your pillars! Mature little girl.

If reincarnation is true, then, you hope to be placed in a kinder world. A place where happiness is within reach—where you will always be embraced by love. So you don't have to scavenge looking for it in everything.

In a kiss offered by a stranger.

The tea lies long abandoned on the coffee table, gone cold hours ago. Yet, the taste still lingers on his lips – bergamot and spice mingling with something uniquely him. Your eyes were tightly closed, but you could feel the warmth radiating from his approaching body. He places a hand under your chin to tilt your face, and he slides his tongue in with practiced ease. You breathe in his aroma deeply, and a thin cloud falls over your consciousness.

Simon kissed with quiet intensity, giving you the impression that it wasn't his first time. It doesn't matter; you already lost your first kiss to your high school crush anyway. But, when compared, this is nothing like the chaste, fleeting peck bestowed by Billy Thompson behind bleachers in junior year. That was a schoolgirl's kiss. This? This sets your blood ablaze.

Laid bare, you are. With your pleading love-me eyes—the gaping mouth of a virgin begging for someone to pour love into it until it hits the back of her throat, swallowed without a trace – “let me wash my esophagus with this. So that my future lovers don't find out how unlovable I am.” Some sort of ablution. And Simon becomes the all-compassionate man, volunteering for a play where he acts as your lover.

His tongue brushes against yours—a clumsy dance of your inexperience. But Simon took the lead, coaxing your shy response. Your hands crept up and clutched the sleeve of his leather jacket. As he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, warmth pooled in your lower abdomen.

This, you realize dimly, is what fills the pages of your well-worn romance books—passionate kisses and warm breaths mingling with each other. One difference is your lack of love for each other. It doesn't matter; after all, lust is a cheap substitute for love, just as searing.

(Starving people eat anything, right?)

When Simon put his big hands on your waist, you gasped and pushed him away. His brows were furrowed in confusion, but his eyes were waiting for you. Your cheeks reddened as you avoided his gaze.

“S-sorry…”

Simon watched patiently, his hands hovering but not crowding. A thought occurred to you—clumsy and awkward as you felt. You bit the inside of your cheek as you gathered your courage.

“I should, um, find...” Your voice fell to a whisper. "Contraception."

He just nodded, his expression carefully schooled. You got up from the couch, knees shaking, trying to ignore the embarrassing damp sensation between your legs, and ran towards the bedroom like a frightened doe.

As you searched through the dresser, you stumbled upon a sealed box beneath a pile of clothes. In a rush, you pulled out the box with fumbling fingers, barely managing to keep it from slipping from your grip. A small foil wrapper—a precaution purchased on a whim, “just in case” some imagined future occasion arose. Little did you know, that occasion would be this night with this stranger turned companion.

Through the door, you hear Simon's gentle footfalls approaching. Your heart threatens to jump from the confines of your ribs. Turning, you found him waiting for you, sitting at the end of the bed, pink sheets against his dark leather jacket.

Suddenly, the tiny foil packet feels heavy and itchy around your fingers. Gathering what little courage you have, you approach on unsteady legs and perch beside him, close but not quite touching. Your gaze was still on the carpet patterns, which looked strangely more interesting, while your hand reached out to hand him the small square.

Simon's eyes fell on the foil packet, staring at it like it was a foreign object. He looked up at you.

“You ever done this before?”

Your cheeks flushed with renewed shame at his question. “No, I haven't.”

The quiet confession hangs heavy in the air. You wait for him to take that little packet from you—part of you expects him to take advantage of your inexperience. Is that not what men do when presented with a willing body and an opportunity? A chance to take the lead, to act like they know everything—taking it from a girl and then going home to brag off to their equally asshole friends. As if their cocks were that great to be able to change a woman with just a few thrusts.

And while this may seem unjust, you can't help but generalize the rough types that frequent bars like the one you've both visited. Subconsciously, you make the same assumption about Simon.

But, he proved himself to be different. He confounds your expectations and judgment at every turn. Calming softness is the last thing you would expect from a hardened soldier like him. He has mapped every opening, joint, and gap in you that he may exploit against you—

And yet, when anyone else would seize the opportunity for easy pleasure, he pulls back, lost in his own thoughts that you can't begin to understand.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Might be better, your first time… if it's with someone important. Someone who'll treat you right."

"It's just sex."

Before you can stop yourself, the words escape your lips in a feeble attempt to contain the raging tempest of feelings inside. But even as you say that, you know in your heart it's not true. From the time you were a teenage girl singing cheesy songs and poring over fairytales, you've dreamed that your first time would be with a lover—someone you truly cared about, someone who dedicated their body to you out of love rather than simply lust. You’ve imagined yourself on your wedding night, sealing your bond in the most sacred ways.

Foolish, romantic notions, like a fragile dream, you know. And some small, still-hopeful part of you holds onto that fantasy, hoping it will come true. But that too erodes with time, evaporating more and farther from your grip until you are forced to settle for something within your reach. Desperation drives the unthinkable, right?

Another wave of silence between you. Simon hung his head low before taking the foil packet from your curled fingers. The bed creaks softly as he rises to tower over you. His strong hands are bracing the mattress on either side of you, caging in but not touching. Your heartbeat forms an accelerando as you hold your breath, peering up at him through your lashes to take in every detail you could in this dark room.

“Last chance, darling,” he rasps, searching your eyes. “Once we start, there's no taking it back.”

When he speaks, his breath washes hotly over your lips, and the gravel in his voice makes your insides clench. Supported only the dim light of the moon through the window for illumination, the lean muscles under his jacket looked more defined, and those irises seemed to darken with promise and more enigma.

You swallowed to relieve the sudden dryness in your throat. He's so hard to decode, and a small voice warns you not to mess with something you don't understand.

Something born of desperation takes hold of you. Before your courage fails you, you reach up to trace fingers along his stubbled jaw, feeling his muscles stiffen under your touch. Your lips came closer and pressed against his as a plea and answer. Heat floods your veins at the contact. Simon paused over you, letting you set the pace as your mouths moved together. His hands gently massaged the fat on your thighs, following the curve of your hips.

Simon's hands find purchase on your waist, thumbs tracing idle circles coaxing soft sighs from your lips. He deepens the kiss, and you follow gladly, clinging to his broad shoulders as he leans you back on the bed. Your heart is pounding wildly. He drags his lips to plant kisses, molding your body perfectly to his solid form.

Before he even stripped your clothes off, you already felt exposed in front of him. Your body isn't good with secrets; when he marks your pulse point with gentle suckles, you tangle your fingers in his dark blonde strands. His mouth ignited a flame against your flesh.

Some small, rational part of your mind screams this is madness. What will Mother say, when she finds yourself lost in the arms of a stranger, giving yourself so freely? “A man's heart is truly a wretched, wretched thing!” she kept repeating. But you're only borrowing this man's body and tonight, not his heart.

As Simon straightens above you, his hand flies to your jeans button with intent. Shyness overcame you in a sudden wave. “I-I'll do it,” you stuttered in a small voice, your cheeks burning.

Without waiting for his response, you sit up enough to fumble with the stubborn button with trembling fingers. Stupid pants. Why does it have to be difficult when you're desperate to shed these last few barriers between you? Sweaty fingers are slipping clumsily. Frustrated, you curse under your breath, the haste making your efforts futile.

A lifetime seems to pass before your buttons are finally free. Peeking through the gap, the plain white cotton is visible, trimmed with a small white satin ribbon at the waistband. Shit. If only you had known what tonight held in store, you'd have definitely chosen something lacier, sexier to match the mood.

Though, Simon didn't give any reaction other than maintaining his steady gaze at you. You again try to wiggle and squirm against the denim down your legs. Come on, come on, don't ruin the mood-

Before you could protest, his hand replaced yours. Large and sure, they grip your waist to guide you to lie down once again as he tugs the jeans free in one smooth motion. The denim hits the floor with a careless toss, leaving you with your top and the flimsy barrier that you put on without thinking. Instinctively, you squeeze your thighs together, acutely aware of your condition beneath his stare.

“Please don't look,” you plead shyly.

“Why?”

The single word rumbles out gruff, without judgment—too flat to contain one. He asked that in pure curiosity while continuing to stare at you.

“It's… embarrassing.” Your voice was small, almost a whisper as you avoided his gaze.

In truth, you feel naked in more ways than one. Between your legs, a dark spot has formed where your arousal has bled through the fabric and how it might disgust him. Your breasts feel heavy and sensitive where they strain against your bra. Every nerve is alive—hyper-focused on every minuscule movement and warm breath between you. It only took one touch from him to dissolve any remaining control.

The silence stretches while Simon is on his own agenda, studying you in considerations you don't understand.

“You want to stop, then?”

Simon's question sent a shot of panic through you. Stop now, even though you've just lost yourself in the sensation? When this man is the only person who can offer you the only scrap of comfort and care that you will never find again?

You shook your head vigorously. “No, please… don't stop.”

It was so embarrassing how your voice came out small and ragged—full of pleading for him not to lift his warm touch on your skin. To send him away from your bed now would be to return to the cold emptiness that has become your constant companion. He has seen half of you; might as well completely strip yourself for him and lose these foolish inhibitions. It seems that you too have no idea what moderation is; it was always all or nothing.

“Can’t reach your pretty cunny with your legs clenched shut, darling,”

Simon's coarse words spread a new flame to flare up in your cheeks. Your core feels wetter and throbbing than before, and you swallow thickly in morification.

Before you can think further, his thick thighs part your own with gentle insistence. You let out a small gasp. The stupid, girlish white panties were exposed to his view. But he makes no move to touch, merely hums his approval.

A sharp breath penetrated your lungs as he dragged his fingers to trace the outline of your cunt through the fabric. He pressed his thumb against your folds and slipped in. Under his caresses, you writhe and grab the sheets, your hips lifting in an instinctive need for greater friction. He spreads your slick flesh.

You barely register anything when he positions his face in front of your panties. Then, he leans in, nuzzling his nose against the damp barrier. Panicking, you clamp your thighs together on instinct to deprive him of access.

“Wait!” you gasp. “That's… it's dirty.”

Simon looked up from down there, at you as if he didn't comprehend what you'd just said. The soft light of the moon cast a silver hue on his blonde eyelashes, making them resemble the feathers of a Greek goddess's wings. His gaze, intense and piercing, locked onto yours, penetrating through your feeble objections. They see beyond your meager resistance, straight into your deepest desires.

Color rose in your cheeks, but the dimness of the room made them blend seamlessly with the background. You bit your swollen lip, not sure if you should ask him to stop completely and pull back to spare you the vulnerability or continue the treatment.

Without a word, he placed his big hands on your hips. You watched him grasp the waistbands of your panties before dragging it down to pool at your ankles. The fresh air caressing your newfound nudity sends chills down your spine. Another tug, and the scrap of fabric joins your discarded clothes on the floor.

Now, you're lying there with evidence of your undisguised arousal—sticky, glistening liquid from his touch in the past few minutes. Evidence of your pathetic desires.

Some small, rational part of you wants to flee, to cover yourself with anything. To ruin everything by saying that this was all a mistake—that now that you think about it, you don't want it anymore. That it's not too late, there's still time before he makes engravings on your walls with his pen like a stamp.

But that other part of you—Goodness.

And unfortunately for your liar side, that's the part Simon focuses on.

A cry escapes your lips when Simon returns his committed mouth between your thighs, granting your latter wish. He brushes his lips against your swollen flesh, making your back arch helplessly off the bed. Your legs fall open of their own accord. He wastes no time to delve deeper, lapping eargerly at your dripping slit. Each flick of his tongue broke one by one the chains confining your control, drawing out more sweet moans that made his jeans tighten even more from the aching hardness that was growing inside.

When his lips close around your swollen clit, you gasp, fingers curling around the bed sheet. Your body wriggled and trembled beneath him but Simon remained unperturbed. His blonde head was steadfast, focused solely on his devotion to pleasuring you.

You feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter as he continues to lavish your weeping cunt. Incoherent noises spill from your lips – gasps and whimpers and cries escape without restraint. He pins your hips down and grips your thighs to keep them wide open.

“Simon… I… oh God…”

Tangles are created in your sheets as your fingers continue to twist them desperately in a tight grip. Every nerve alive and hyper-focused on the sensations his tongue continued to convey. Your pulsing walls close together as low pressure builds in your stomach.

“Si-Simon! I feel strange, I—oh!”

A wave of heat rolls from your lower stomach as your muscles clench and spasm uncontrollably. Your thighs quiver—you cover your face from the overwhelming sensation. White spots dance in your vision. Some dam has broken deep inside you, and you fall, fall, fall as a tear slips down your flushed cheek. Warm essence flowed freely towards his tongue, and he tasted it against the walls of his palate. His lips were wet, but Simon licked the remainder like a man long seized of water.

The room feels impossibly still and quiet. Only the sound of your mingled breaths and your racing heartbeat fill the humid air. You keep your flushed face covered. Now that the haze has cleared, your mind is swirling with shame and uncertainty again.

How do you deal with him now that he has buried his tongue in your cunt? The sticky mess between your thighs reminds you that he has brought you to the peak of ecstasy with just his hands and mouth. Nonetheless, your taut nipples and the pounding in your ears indicate that, despite everything, you still want more.

The whisper of fabric is heard as Simon shifts. You peer through your fingers to find him leaning over you, calloused hands gently pulling your palm away.

“You alright?”

The question, however gentle and well-intentioned, caused your skin to heat up in discomfort. You can't help but feel embarrassed—as if he sees you as some fragile thing, needing reassurance after every little touch. As if you're a mess, a tiny bird that soars too and falls, making sympathy his default emotion whenever he looks at you.

It makes you think about all the other women he must have been with, how he must have touched them in the same way he was touching you now. Those who are nothing like you. Those who understand their own desires and a man's. Those who could lose themselves for hours in passion, their stunning hips swinging above him as his hands glide along their curves without hesitation or restraint. It leaves a strange taste in your mouth—bitter and almost envious.

All the women around him, and unfortunately Simon has to settle with you tonight. A shy woman, unsure of her own identity.

Something has narrowed in your chest. Your lungs feel heavy as you breathe in, like an anchor is binding it to the bottom of your soul. But, you manage to give him a nod. And before your stupid mouth ruin everything, you surge up to capture his hungry lips with your own. Your arms snaked around his neck to bring his body closer to yours.

“How do they do it, those who make love without love?” you often ask. The first time you wonder about this, you compare it to building a house without a foundation. Impossible. It's like writing without words or dancing without music.

But as you sink beneath his bulky frame—as Simon lifts your legs to wrap around his hips and grinds his hardness against your cunt, drawing a moan from you and feeling the roughness of his jeans against your swollen folds—you begin to understand that it's possible. Those who make love without love simply need to possess the desire—a determined, tenacious grip on something.

As your teeth collided, the kisses grew more passionate and frenzied; it was unclear who was feeding off whom's hunger. His hips rolled into you. Tongues tangled together in an unrehearsed dance that ignites sparks coursing through your veins. He nibbles your bottom lip, and you moan into his mouth.

Reeling for breath, you turned away, only to give Simon the opportunity to nib on your jaw and trace kisses down your neck. His hand slid under your shirt, creeping up your ribs to cup your breast.

When he reaches the delicate shell of your ear, he closes his teeth gently around the lobe and tugs. You cry out at the sharp pain mixed with pleasure. His busy hands kneaded your breasts, twisting your erect nipples between his thumb and forefinger. He slides the other down your belly and stops to cup your cunt. You gasp and buck against his hand as he starts circling your clit lazily, dragging two fingers up and down, coating it with another wave of your essence.

“Off… take it off.” You mutter without thinking.

Simon understands your breathless demand. Kneeling between your thighs, he makes quick work of his leather jacket, tossing it without a care for the floor. You watch him take off his shirt, muscles rippling as he grasps the hem of his shirt and pulls it over his head.

Your weathered heart, fluent with wounds and what is left behind in its wake. However, when the covering is removed, you're not prepared for the sight revealed to your eyes. His body—Simon's body. His chest was a masterpiece of defined muscle, and his abs were chiseled as if they were as solid as granite. The trail of blonde hair leads temptingly below the waist of his jeans.

It was the map of scars on his flesh that drew your attention. Pale lines, both thin and thick, had claimed their places, like the constellations he carried as proof that he had been hurt and survived. All his close calls, markings of victory—there were people who wanted him dead, but he lived to tell the story.

Still, in the dim light of the room, one scar seems strikingly different from the others.

A long, deep gash curves gracefully around one side of his ribs, which have healed into a thick rope of knotted flesh. You wonder about its possible origins—some accident, perhaps, working with tools or machinery gone wrong. Another one of his secrets you're not deemed worthy for him to share with.

Seeking to regain some composure, you grasp the hem of your sweater and draw it over your head. The only thing left on you was the white bra.

He observes your body with a careful scan before meeting your gaze once more. Leaning down, he captured your lips in his parted ones, renewing the kiss. You lifted your back slightly to make way for one of his hands. He fumbled with the small hook before releasing it, freeing your breasts in relief.

Simon cupped your breasts, fingers fully rounded and exploring freely now with more access. You let out another moan. He inserted your breast into the warmth of his mouth, his tongue dancing around it as he gently sucked. You arched against his body, pressing your chest against his.

He releases your swollen nipple with a tiny pop sound. You watched as Simon rose to his knees, eyes never leaving your form as he reached into his pocket and pulled out the small foil packet you gave him earlier. Placing the square between his teeth, he reaches down to unzip his jeans. Your breath hitches in anticipation.

But to your secret dismay, the jeans stay on, shielding his thighs and underneath from view. Hope dissipates from your heart – a foolish, unfathomable melancholy seeps in through the empty rooms. As you watch him tear the packet open with his teeth and roll the condom down his length, you try to tell yourself that you have no rights—that this means nothing to him as it does to you. That this is merely your way of finding pleasure in each other until morning calls.

Yet, the disparity between you weighs heavily, as he has seen every intimate part of you, and you're still denied some access to him.

As Simon finishes rolling on the condom, your thoughts become detached. Desperate for a distraction—comfort, you stretch out your arms in invitation. He accepts your wordless plea, diving into your embrace and covering your mouth with his own as he slowly presses his cock forward. You feel the stretch and burn; your walls have been breached to accommodate his large size. The foreign fullness—the pulsing sensation of having a man fill you so completely—draws a quiet gasp from you.

Breaking the kiss, he buries his face in the crook of your neck. You felt him take a shuddering inhale. He started to move slowly, the stretch and burn of your walls parting further. Your breath comes short and sharp as tears prick the corners of your eyes from the sting of it.

“Too much? Want me to go easy?”

The question that leaves his lips tugs at the feet of your heart. And you believe that's how unlovable people behave—the urge to keep searching, to lick it even from the tip of a knife. The urge to see where it was never present.

You know he only shows concern for you to continue bringing him pleasure. Yet, some part of your traitorous, fickle heart, swells. The conviction that there is something worth feeling, something flickering in the distance—timidly but surely blooming, waiting to be discovered.

(Butterflies take flight in my belly. My heart has learned to feast on even the driest of breads.)

“No… keep going,” you rasp.

So, you cling to him tighter, urging him on despite the ache, because having him move within you is the closest you'll come to an embrace—to a cheap substitute for love. Let me drown; let his touch envelop my body – to become both his refugee and prisoner. Let me lose myself in this illusion, for it is all I have.

Simon pushed himself in further. You bit your bottom lip feeling him against your walls; your blunt nails create half-moons into his flexing back and shoulders. The burning feeling is emphasized before gradually disappearing and is replaced by pleasure. You threw your head back against the pillow as he slowly sped up his thrusts, bringing your hips to meet his.

A broken gasp escapes your lips when he slightly changes his angle and slams back in. His name was uttered in the lewdest sounds—gasoline on the fire of his lust, creating another wave of vigor to slide his cock in and out of your weeping hole.

Silhouette was created when he straightened his back, blocking out the moonlight. His muscles rippled beneath his skin as he continued to deliver controlled thrusts. You watched the sweat slide slickly down the cords of his neck. He gripped your hips before pulling out. You whimpered at the empty ache. But, before you can protest, he slams in the angry crown and fills you to the hilt in one deep thrust.

The mirror at the end of the room has steamed over from the heat. Simon places his large hand firmly on your lower belly, pinning you down in place. He brought his other hand to rub circles over your swollen clit. Your lips form a perfect 'O' as you gasp.

Through heavy-lidded eyes, you follow the outline of his collarbone, droplets of sweat sliding down his skin. The sound of flesh slapping flesh was accompanied by mingled cries and moans. You turn your face into the pillow, watching how the sheets tangle and crumple around your desperate fingers. Simon quickened the roll of his hips; the bed squeaked with each one.

“Ah! O-oh, Simon! Simon! I’m—!”

Your body trembles as unbridled moans escape from your failing lips. He pushes your stomach farther in while continuing to piston his hips. Your breasts bounce and sway; sweat covers taut, flushed nipples. He rammed his fat cock into you so hard that it caused you to boil and surrounded your messed-up brain with smoke.

“You close for me, darling? Gonna come all over my cock?”

Your cunt throbs from his breathy voice. Brows furrowed, lips parted around gasps and sighs. The lacrimal glands swell. Every inch of your senses is narrowed into hyper-awareness, with focus scattered all over and your thighs trembling uncontrollably. The white spots on your brain are spreading. His thrusts became sloppier as his hips stutter. Your stomach tightened, velvety walls pulsing around his twitching length until Simon buried his face in your shoulder.

A litany of curses and praise fell from his lips. His cock flooded in scalding heat of your slick juices mixed with his climax. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, trying to stabilize your ragged breathing and regather reality.

While your brain recovers, you stare at the boring ceiling of your room. The heaviness in your limbs and sore muscles replace the last waves of pleasure. Your mind wandered aimlessly, half-aware that you were still clinging to him.

Simon rose, drawing his body away from yours. He pulled out his cock, and the emptiness suddenly felt foreign. You observe drowsily as he stands on his knees to fix his trousers – his movements appear hurried now, as he no longer needs to linger after having taken his pleasure. Feeling exhausted, you lay motionless.

“You good?” he asked, looking at you.

You gave him a weak nod. “M’alright… just sleepy,” you mumble, biting your lip.

For a second, something flickered in Simon's eyes—something akin to tenderness. But it's gone as quickly as it came, and in your current condition, you're not a competent witness either. Maybe it's just a reflection of your desire for him to stay, to hold you one more night, and to leave in the morning. Too involved, too risky.

That wasn't the deal, you know.

And you also know that you've always been bad at letting go, of your habit to cling fiercely to what you love until your marks are ingrained upon them. You loathed the cold room now that he had detached himself from you. But it would be selfish beyond measure to ask him to stay, to shower your desperate wounds with his kisses as gently as he did when he was still under the spell of lust. You couldn't drag anyone along with you. It would be unfair, even cruel. You couldn't do that, not to Simon.

You turn to your side and pull the blanket over your naked form. Shutting your eyes, you tried to fight the dull ache rising in your chest.

“You can go,” you mutter.

Simon stood silent for a moment, his agreement given in silence. The mattress groaned softly as he shifted his weight. You heard him finish getting dressed, followed by the soft, steady padding of his footsteps against the floor. Each step takes him further from the bed. You heard the sound of the door knob turning and the door swinging open, allowing a sliver of light from the hallway to peek through the gap before it continued to narrow and darkness returned.

Then comes the click of the door as it fully closes, and you're all alone again.

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cocogum · 3 days

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Let’s TALK about episodes 11-12-13

(‼️SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4‼️)

@onyichii I know I told you once that this was initially going to have more than two parts to explain what happened between these three episodes but I decided to scratch that idea out and instead put them all into one post.

Before I begin, I would like to address something crucial.

Thank you, Ankama for everything that you’ve done for Wakfu. And thank you for this final season as well. It’s clear that despite the many rough challenges you’ve had to face and overcome over the years, I’m really happy that Wakfu has fully made its course. You’ve outdone yourself for this season just for us and it shows.

A lot of us have been here since our childhoods so we really love you for creating such a series that we’ve managed to fall in love with or else we wouldn’t be here talking about it.

This season was absolutely beautiful and what a way to end it all.

Unless Season 5 makes its appearance lol. (later did I know that we recently got the news of a season 5)

Now let’s begin.

WE FINALLY GET TO SEE OUR ORIGINAL RAT RUEL 💖💖💖

My god he looks angry as hell I literally never saw him like this, imagine seeing this in the corner of your eye, and he’s right there staring at you hiding in the shadows like-

Help???

But anyway yeah he’s completely broke.

My guy at least got one kama thanks to Junior 😭😭

OH SHIT YUGO’S HERE!!!! RUEL TURN AROUND ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

First thing Ruel does is cry about his money to Yugo. Bro isn’t even asking why tf he grew. That wasn’t even his first question. Scratch that, that wasn’t even something that came up in his head.

That’s how you know he deserves the Rat King crown.

THAT SHOULD BE ME ‼️‼️‼️ THAT SHOULD BE ME SQUEEZING HIM WITH SNOT COMING OUT OF MY NOSTRILS, NOT HIM ‼️‼️‼️

Love how even though Dally and Eva told each other not to worry about Flopin, these two still looked like shit, even after hugging it out. So they’re still gonna keep Flopin’s room the way it is, right? They’re not gonna give it to Pin, right? Cuz their house is kinda big for five people (make that six with Goultard) so I feel like they’ll keep Flopin’s room the way it is and make a brand new room for Pin. I can imagine Poo helping them use a spare room to turn it into a bedroom for Pin (Poo will do it out of the sheer goodness of his heart ofc and definitely not because Elely was gonna beat him to a pulp lol)

YUGO’S HERE OMG EVERYBODY STFU ‼️‼️ (and Ruel too)

You have no idea how happy I was to see Dally not welcoming Yugo back and immediately trying to punch him. It makes sense for him to confuse Yugo for Oropo, especially after all the things he and his family went through because of him.

And here’s where we get a YUGO VS DALLY FIGHT SCENE ARE YOU KIDDING ME-

Never in my life did I think I would ever witness seeing these two fight against each other. Even if they had been play fighting, I would have never seen it coming.

But GOOD. At least we get to see more of Yugo’s ass Yugo moving around and getting to test his strength out.

Elely and Goultard even went in and tried to jump the guy but bro wasn’t even trying 😭😭 he literally threw Elely like a ragdoll like THAT’S YOUR FRIEND’S CHILD WHAT ARE YOU DOING-

(yeet the child)

That’s practically his niece by the way and he just threw her like she was nothing lol

Anyways, Eva breaks the fight and NXKAKSLDKKSKSLDL the way she gently touched Yugo’s face! She’s so shocked by how he looks now! To think that she used to be his older sister figure, and now he’s taller than her and the others 😭💖

It's funny and cute that Eva used to be the tallest in the group lol

It also took all these years for Dally to understand why Yugo is his best friend...

So the others finally get to know what’s been happening for nine episodes now and the iops in the family are absolutely down for it 💀

Yugo literally described the end of the world and these three dumbasses can't wait for it.

After that, the boys go back to the Sadida Kingdom and THIS. THIS IS THE REUNION.

I just love how Amalia’s first instinct is hugging Eva just look at the girls smiling together like this 💖💖💖

I missed them so much together 💕💕 even Pin is happy to see Amalia omg she’s absolutely killing it as an aunt 😭💕💕

And then….

Here comes Yugo.

I swear his and Adamaï’s reunion was the most bro-like thing I have ever seen from any of the seasons, comics, and manga chapters. Dude just comes out from another world that had creatures immune to anything in the krosmoz and tortured his body for who knows how long, and the first thing his bro does is give him a bro slap.

Freaking killed me.

And THEN

THEN CAME AMALIA’S REACTION OMAGJSKWLSLXLLSMMSKDLD THEIR EYES MET LOOK AT THEM-

But the Eliatrope Goddess just had to cut off their reunion 😒 urgh I swear this woman cares too much for her kids. Like to an unhealthy amount. Look at her hiding him away from Amalia and the others, she was clearly trying to separate him from anyone who wasn’t related to her. The only reason why Joris wasn’t being pushed away was because he was way too close. I’ve already explained so much about this one scene alone in this post so if you’re interested go take look at it.

The Eliatrope goddess was so lucky Yugo didn’t see her call Amalia “crazy” though…cuz man, I know she was panicking but gurl you’re insulting your daughter-in-law calm down-

Armand and Aurora get here and see this reunion and my god Armand actually had a point though.

Like the guy isn’t happy to see the eliatropes, he clarifies to them that this whole situation with the necromes was because of them. Yugo doesn’t even try to retort because Armand is completely in the right to be angry at him and his people.

And shocker, the Eliatrope Goddess decided to ditch them all and takes the kids.

Even though Yugo told her they couldn’t leave because they’d just keep running away forever, she didn’t listen and would rather even leave HIM and Adamaï behind, TWO of her literal FIRST CHILDREN FROM THE KROSMOZ.

I understand that she had been severely traumatized by the necromes, but something tells me she used to always flee at the first sign of danger when it came to anything at all. Her bad habit of fleeing must’ve been as far back as when she used to be part of the other gods. When she used to be with them, she was even willing to break an important rule between her equals, which was “to not have your own planet for your followers.” After they learned she had betrayed them, they all tried fighting her off but she didn’t dare fight back. Either it was because she’s a pacifier or because she prefers fleeing. With the many cases we’ve seen of her fleeing, I’ll have to say the latter since it might as well just be a habit. I can also support this claim by pointing out that she can fight but chooses to flee instead: when she was in the meeting between the rulers, she clearly showed that she had the strength to fight back when she was being challenged by one of Bonta’s queens.

The war started…

Not gonna lie, the Eliatrope goddess' shield was pretty useful since the group needed to buy some time for Yugo, Joris, and Goultard to get Nora back. I like how they knew they had no choice but to buy some time because fighting a necrome is like trying to kill water: that shit is impossible.

Although one thing I will never forget from that war, was Dally and Armand talking to each other.

This was a true full circle. The minute they met, they did not get along and were on completely opposite sides. Even during these years, they somewhat got along but never made any real improvement. But when they reach a war where they could potentially die, that's when they now see that they truly have no qualms at all anymore.

Like...thinking about how they used to fight over Evangelyne now sounds childish and so old to remember.

If you were to tell me years ago that they somewhat now get along and Armand was actually happy to see Dally, I would've thought you wrote a fanfic about it.

Nonetheless, it was nice seeing Armand get a taste of what it felt like to be on an adventure. He missed his chances to join Amalia and her friends, so being in a war fighting alongside them seemed like a good compensation to have instead. It's like putting all the dangers and adrenaline into one big ball and seeing what happens.

Armand enters the legend.

He might have been the king that had the shortest reign in Sadida history but after what he just pulled off, he’ll stay the best in record. This man beat a dragon made by the gods from another world and defeated it before dying while standing up. Name me another mortal in the krosmoz who has ever pulled off this kind of shit. That's right, zero. Not even Dally did that and that guy died like three times. Someone get Armand a real proper wife who he can have fun with, the man needs it after the awesome shit he just pulled off.

It baffles me however that when a sadida dies, they turn into sprouts so they can be planted and turned into trees in time.

It’s kind of bittersweet knowing that their deaths somewhat turn into a sort of reincarnation. Sadida is the only god who well…doesn’t look like he’s visually made of skin and bones. He’s a plant and created his own form of photosynthesis to make his Sadida dolls. His subjects, who can be compared to roots, are linked to one tree, not to mention that they could all die in the blink of an eye if anything happened to it as how I explained here. It’s almost like the sprout, from Armand’s death, could be considered the sadidas’ inner cores, sort of like their real selves (?), and they are exposed and revealed when they die. The only instance where we did not see this happen was when Nox managed to dry up the Tree of Life which made the sadidas turn into trees on the spot instead of being planted in peace.

Being a sadida just keeps being more depressing and traumatizing. The sadidas are lucky they love being like this or else they’d all turn into Qilby 💀

When Nora and Efrim leave Toross in his world, we see him go back to his throne while glitching from time to time. At first, nothing about this scene seemed to have been out of the ordinary until @MachineBandage on Twitter let everyone know that if we paused at the right moment when he was walking back to his throne, we could see shots of him sitting on the stairs looking defeated and miserable.

And now, yumalia fans, we have the moment we’ve all been waiting for!!

THEIR MARRIAGE 💖💖💖💖💖

Not gonna lie, at first, when I saw Amalia carrying those flowers with Yugo, I thought they were both walking to pay respects to Armand’s tree grave but then THIS HAPPENED‼️‼️

I HAD A STROKE, I THOUGHT I WAS SEEING SHIT BUT THEY’RE LEGIT ABOUT TO GET MARRIED ‼️‼️‼️❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

I was so happy for them. It’s been years since I’ve been rooting for these two.

Ever since 2012, I had a hunch about them because they wouldn’t stop hugging so tightly as it’s been making me go insane. All these years, I was so hopeful and yet worried that I wouldn’t see this happening!!

But not anymore because they finally got together 💖💖

I literally watched my kids grow up, I’m so proud. I shed a tear when I first saw this.

But after watching it over and over again, that’s when I shut off my fangirling (it was getting in the way of visual details lol) to properly inspect what the hell I just saw.

Wouldn’t Yugo and Amalia’s marriage technically be considered a very uncommon thing to happen? Three reasons would suggest this.

The first is how unconventional their marriage ended up looking regardless if its main objective was supposed to look like a political or romantic wedding. You can find that whole explanation in this post I made when the finale came out. The second is that Amalia married someone who isn’t a Twelvian. The third, the most crucial one, is that two RULERS of different races married and, due to that, have unified their people together.

I like how @onyichii noticed that during Yumalia’s ending scene, Yugo was actually the one who was about to kiss Amalia first but she ended up being quicker than him and pressed their lips together first.

He was about to close his eyes and lean in.

If you really pay close attention to Yugo in this scene, you’ll see it. That was such a nice detail to notice and I’m so glad @onyichii brought it up.

These kinds of details are why I love Ankama’s way of sprinkling them. They’re always the kind that would make you blink and miss it until you run the scene again more slowly.

Can you imagine what the people must’ve been thinking when Yugo dropped Amalia in one of his portals?

Dude legit dipped with his wife without warning anybody, not even Amalia knew he was going to plan that.

I can just imagine the people being confused as all hell and then awkwardly waiting for them to come back or wondering IF they’ll even come back.

Renate and Canar are going to spread so much tea in the kingdom, these two are gonna think Yugo took Amalia away for some ‘private time’ cuz he couldn’t wait any longer JZKSSKSKXKXKSKSKKDKKDODKF

I wanna join Renate and Canar’s little group so badly, they sound like a lot of fun lol

LOOK AT AMALIA’S ADORABLE FACE‼️‼️

Yugo is absolutely smitten 💕💕

And let’s not forget our boy Flopin who attended the wedding!

Because yes, despite not physically being there, we saw him with his grandpa on an open field. He had his eyes closed, the same way how Madagaskan was able to look out for Eva and Cleophee all these years. And look!! Flopin smiled!! He approves of the wedding!! Like Adamaï, he is also a yumalia shipper!

It’s confirmed. The shot of him smiling as the wedding scene keeps going can only mean two things: Flopin is learning fast as he can now watch over his family, and HE SMILED AT THE SIGHT OF YUMALIA WHICH MEANS HE LIKES IT!

I wonder if Cleophee is aware that she has a father though. We’ve only seen Evangelyne’s reaction when she learned of this fact but what about Cleophee? She must’ve wondered where Flopin went since he was missing while the Percedal family was attending the wedding. Maybe we’ll get to see her receiving the news in Season 5 or The Great Wave’s other volumes.

Despite this beautiful ending, however, there are still many things we have yet to know or dig deeper about: 1) The other rulers still have this strong mindset that the eliatropes are bad news. In a way, they indirectly caused a lot of destruction, so a lot of them will not like the fact that Yugo remains here, let alone married a twelvian, making his stay official.

2) Yugo still needs to get the rest of his people, the eliatrope kids who are still with his mother.

3) We have no idea where the Eliatrope goddess is at right now. She could be anywhere in the krosmoz, but I hope she eventually learns that her son saved the world.

4) WILL YUGO AND AMALIA THINK ABOUT HAVING KIDS!?! Because of Amalia’s position as queen, and being the last living member of the royal family, she is required to bear children to keep the family name going. So like…are we going to see their kids someday? How many are they going to have? I NEED TO KNOW SO I CAN FANGIRL MORE-

5) There will be more yumalia moments so more cute cuddles and convos lol

6) Yugo and Amalia's marriage will be a loving relationship and an alliance one. Yugo is king of the eliatropes, while Amalia is queen of the sadidas. Despite being together, they are rulers of their distinct people, but they both will help the other without hesitation.

7) The only other ruler I can think of who might be willing to side with Yugo and Amalia is that Lance Dur guy. He's cool. I like him.

8) Ush still wants to fight Yugo. Again. Let’s not forget what he told Yugo before he let the Eliatrope goddess bring him back to Bonta.

9) Brakmar supposedly got half destroyed?? Will we ever get any news from them in Season 5 or in the manga? I bet Astra is feeling ecstatic right now lol

10) Sufokia and Pandawa SHOULD FINALLY PAY THEIR DEBTS TO THE SADIDAS ALREADY

11) Frigost….what happened to it?? Yeah, I didn’t see anyone talk about this. Harebourg has been implied to have died back in Oropo’s pocket dimension and yet we see him in Waven and had joined one of the four clans. So is Frigost okay? What is going on over there?

That’s all that came to mind.

But now that we have recently heard the news that Season 5 was coming, I was so thrilled to know that this wasn’t truly going to be the ending for the anime and Tot persevered to get more!! Despite what we’ve been told about Season 4 being the finale, I’m so glad AND GRATEFUL that Tot didn’t stop there ☺️💕💕

Who knows, maybe we’ll have some of our answers in Season 5 since Tot did say that we’d have about 26 episodes which is a lot to put lore in. I'm still not sure if we truly will have 26 episodes like he said back in his tweet because it might have been just a tease (a cruel one at that) but I’m still hopeful that we’ll have more than 13 since Ankama now has partners!

SO YEAH WE GOT A LOT OF SHIT TO UNPACK IN SEASON 5 AND THE MANGA.

But the upcoming season and the manga will obviously not reveal everything, let’s be aware of that. Tot likes to sprinkle lots of lore in the games too so we’ll have to look out for those.

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30somethingautisticteacher · 1 day

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Fuck it Friday

I'm fairly new to fic writing so nobody tagged me but I'm doing it anyway! 🙂

***

For Buck, there wasn't one specific moment where he knew that he wanted to marry Tommy. To him, their whole relationship had been a series of important moments that left Buck more hopeful every day. From the moment Tommy kissed him, his whole world was altered. Tommy Kinard walked into Evan Buckley's life, and everything changed.

It only took eight weeks for Buck to realize that he was in love with Tommy. But he had felt it even earlier. He remembered vividly how his heart raced and desire coursed through him when Tommy walked through those hospital doors in his soot-covered turnout gear, smelling of smoke, and apologizing profusely for not being there sooner. In that heated moment, any lingering hesitation Buck felt about being attracted to men melted away. Tommy really was a beast and Buck felt a deep yearning to hold onto him tightly and never let go.

The next time Buck allowed himself to hope for a forever with Tommy was on a typical, unremarkable day. Buck had spent the night at Buck's, not for the first time but it still felt new and exciting. Buck and Tommy were snuggling in bed, Buck wondering if it were somehow possible to meld their two bodies together. They were interrupted, however, by the distinctive buzzing of Buck's phone. "It's Maddie. I have to answer," Buck said apologetically. "Of course, Evan, talk to your sister," Tommy replied with a smile. God, he is so amazing, Buck thought, not for the first time.

"Hey Mads," Buck answered. "Oh thank God you picked up! I have an emergency!" Buck's heart skipped a beat.

"Chim took an extra shift, and my shift starts in an hour. The Lees were supposed to watch Jee, but Anne's sister is in the hospital, so they can't anymore. I know you're off and probably enjoying time with your hot pilot boyfriend, but can you please, please watch Jee for me?" Maddie said in one breath.

"Well Mads, first of all, you're a first responder. You should know better than to use 'emergency' so casually!" Evan scolded. "And secondly, of course I'll watch Jee. I've missed her lately. I'd love some Uncle Buck time!"

"You're an absolute lifesaver! Are you sure Tommy won't mind?" Maddie asked.

Buck hesitated for a split second. "No, I'm sure he'll be fine with it, and I really want them to get to know each other."

"I'll drop Jee off in twenty minutes. You are seriously the best little brother," Maddie said before hanging up.

Tommy seemed enthusiastic about Jee coming over, but Buck knew him well enough to sense the underlying nervousness and reservation he was clearly feeling. Buck understood that Tommy hadn't been around kids much. He had recently revealed that he was the youngest of three, with his brother and sister being 12 and 14 years older than him, respectively. Tommy called himself an "oops baby" and alluded to that being part of the reason his childhood was so difficult. His parents had wanted to retire and travel the world but instead felt saddled with a child whom they viewed as nothing but a burden.

However, despite Tommy's lack of experience with kids, he was a natural. Jee warmed up to him immediately, despite having only met him briefly before. Buck grinned as he watched his boyfriend having a tea party with his niece, before allowing her to paint his nails a shocking pink. When Maddie arrived a few hours later, Jee couldn't stop talking about "Uncle Tommy" and asking when she could have her next playdate with him and Uncle Buck. Buck beamed with pride and happiness, scarcely able to contain his overwhelming joy.

Buck knew tonight was the night to have the crucial conversation with Tommy. "Hey Tom?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

"What's up?" Tommy replied.

"Seeing you with Jee today was pretty eye-opening, and I just have to know." Buck swallowed. "Do you want kids someday?"

Tommy smiled at him. "Evan, if you'd asked me that a year ago, I probably would have said no." Evan raised his eyebrows. "But that was before I met an amazing partner who was born to be a dad." Tommy gently took Buck's hand. "With you, sweetheart, yes, I definitely want to have kids."

Buck's face lit up with a beaming smile, his eyes shining. "Really? You mean that?"

"I've never been more sure of anything," Tommy said, pulling Buck into an embrace. "You and me, Evan Buckley, we're going to make an incredible family."

Buck lay in bed that night, his mind drifting to thoughts of the future with Tommy. He had always known he wanted kids, but with previous partners, it had seemed like an impossible dream. Now, visions of bake sales and little league games danced in his head. He pictured birthday parties and backyard barbecues with the 118 family. Swim lessons, dance recitals, all the milestones played out in his imagination.

"The Kinard family," he whispered to himself with a smile, tightening his embrace around Tommy's sleeping form. The name felt right, like the final puzzle piece clicking into place.

In that moment, Buck's heart overflowed with a sense of contentment and eager anticipation for the life they would build together. With Tommy by his side, that future vision of love, laughter, and little ones no longer seemed like a distant dream. He pressed a tender kiss to Tommy's forehead, whispering, "I can't wait."

#bucktommy #tevan #kinley #tommy kinard #evan buckley #fuck it friday

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elliespuns · 2 days

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I wanted to ask you this since you definitely understand the tlou characters down to a T 👌🏻How do you think sarah was conceived LMAO. Like, do you think joel and sarah’s mom were already in a relationship for a while, or were they a pretty new couple n all of a sudden she got pregnant. I’m assuming it was an accident and they were using protection, I don’t think joel would be dumb enough to not use protection.

Since joel’s birthday is in September and sarah’s mom got pregnant when he was 18, he must’ve gotten her pregnant after graduating. School in the US ends around May/June, so he would’ve been 17 during graduation. I wonder if he was supposed to go to college but had to leave bc sarah’s mom got pregnant.

I have the feeling he wasn’t planning on going anyways, otherwise he would told ellie at the university that he was supposed to go to college but didn’t bc of sarah. Not to mention, by the time his birthday came when he turned 18, if he was planning on going to college he would’ve already committed to a school since decisions would’ve come out when he was 17 and still a senior in hs. anyways that was more math than i was planning on doing lol but what are you thoughts?

First of all, I love all of this. Such a perfect, thought-through analysis (what do you even need me for, hun?).

I think everything you say makes perfect sense. The only thing I see differently is the "protection" part. I do, on the other hand, think Joel was dumb enough not to use the protection. I don't know why, but something has always told me he's one of the fathers who get their first girlfriend pregnant accidentally as a result of carefree sex and then end up dedicating their whole life to the baby, be it together with her or alone, because this baby is someone now, someone he's created, and what kind of person he would've been if he didn't want it.

Protection or not, both work, I guess. Both meant he got her pregnant by accident. People had limited options and choices back then when it came to unwanted pregnancies, so I think his initial thought was anything but "We need to keep it." despite the panic he felt.

He probably didn't even want a baby, but then he slept on it and realized there was no way back, so he manned up and married his girlfriend in the hope of raising this child together. Which didn't happen because his wife probably couldn't bear all this pressure of being a young mother and left him and Sarah on their own. That's when I think he manned up to the highest of levels because there was literally no one else who would take care of his baby.

What I think is that his wife just left him in the cold. Simple as that. Some people think she died, but that wouldn't make sense with what Joe told Ellie at the university. If his wife died, he'd probably just tell her, like in a good memory of her or something. He was already sharing his feelings about Sarah with Ellie, so he would do the same with his wife. Instead, he seemed like he didn't want to talk about his wife. I've always felt like it had nothing to do with being hard for him, but rather because this topic was not something he wanted to share with a kid.

Which makes me think his wife either left him and Sarah without saying a thing or they had a fight (she could be problematic, maybe not handling motherhood that well), and he told her to leave, knowing that he'd be a better dad to Sarah alone.

I think Joel's wife was his girlfriend back when he got her pregnant. Maybe even his first serious girlfriend. That's probably why they decided to get married. Maybe they were even forced into marriage by their parents, because you know what it was like back then. You had to be married to have a kid, because if you had a kid without a marriage, you'd be looked down on.

I will forever wonder what Joel's wife's name was, though. I just hope it wasn't Sarah.

#the last of us #tlou #joel miller #joel tlou #sarah miller #sarah tlou #joel and sarah #joel's wife #the last of us game #tlou game #elliespuns answers

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storiesbyjes2g · 2 days

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3.132 Baby, baby

After we had our fill of free food and drink, we went back to Mama's house for a few more hours just in case we could catch the birth. But it got late, and Sophia needed to rest, so we went home. Around 8 a.m., Mama called saying Alessia had given birth to Breanna, Lex, and Arvin earlier that morning. I still hadn't gotten used to the idea of being an uncle yet and wanted to meet them sooo bad. But Sophia was due at any moment, and I couldn't risk her being alone or leaving the house. I wanted her to be comfortable in her own space because we were about to hike a trail we'd never been on before. But of course, Mama told me not to worry about them and to take care of Sophia. The babies weren't going anywhere, and I could meet them anytime. I just had to remember to call her when we were heading to the hospital. Hearing about my new family members was a great start to my day. Sophia was still asleep, so I used the downtime to clean the house and make sure Sophia had nothing to worry about while birthing and nurturing our child.

She came downstairs just as I finished my breakfast, and I gave her the exciting news. I shouldn't have been surprised when she told me I could go meet the babies if I really wanted to. She was always so accommodating and kind. But I declined. She and our baby were my only priority that day. I needed to stop dropping everything to run over there every time something happened, anyway. I had my own family now. Besides, Dad was probably there too, so Alessia was in good hands and had plenty of help.

Good thing I didn't go because about an hour and a half later, the first contraction crippled Sophia! It came out of nowhere and scared me because I had never heard her (or anyone) yell like that before. I got myself together quickly and called Mama to tell her we were on our way to the hospital. I stripped off my PJs, hopped in the shower, and ran downstairs to find Sophia so we could go. However, she wasn't dressed and didn't seem to have any intention of going anywhere.

"This process takes time," she said. "I don't want to be at the hospital any longer than I need to be."

That was not a sentiment I shared, but if she was comfortable waiting until the last second, I trusted her judgment because I was way out of my depth here.

She suggested we go back to our room and chill, so we laid on the bed real close, and I rubbed her belly, possibly for the last time. Sophia and I always had a close relationship, but ever since finding out she was pregnant, I felt even closer to her. I mean, she literally had a piece of me growing inside her! We couldn't get much closer than that. I treasured those last few moments alone with her. No wonder she made us promise to always make time for each other.

"We still don't have a name for her," she said.

"I know. Are we starting off her life as bad parents?"

She giggled.

"We're not bad. We're just too indecisive."

The contractions seemed to chill, so we continued throwing out names and trying them on. At some point she fell asleep, and I must have too, because I felt super disoriented when she shot up and screamed.

"NOW can we go to the hospital??" I asked.

"Yeah...yeah, let's go."

She stood up as best as she could while being in excruciating pain and attempted to get dressed, but another contraction stifled her, followed by another!

"I don't think I can make it," she said, groaning.

"What?? What do you mean? We can't do this here!"

She tried breathing through the contractions in an attempt to ease the pain, but there was only so much she could do.

"Things happening really fast," she said. "I can feel it! I don't think I'll make it to the hospital."

No hospital?! That wasn't part of the plan, and I was so tempted to call Mama and ask if she could come and help us. I wasn't a doctor and knew diddly squat about delivering babies!

"But...what are we gonna do??"

When she found some relief, she said, "We're gonna do it how our great-grandparents did it! Run some bath water for me, and get some towels. And grab some extra pillows too!"

"You're gonna have the baby in the tub??"

"No, silly! I just want to bathe. And the water will help with the pain."

"Oh."

I dashed away and turned on the water and gathered the towels. That set of pillows we got as a wedding gift came in very handy, and I stacked them up on the bed to support her. I also grabbed the bassinet and put it close by.

When Sophia finished her bath, she sat atop the bed breathing through the contractions like an old pro. As a yoga professional, I knew very well the importance of strategic breathing and hoped it helped her to focus her attention away from the pain and on the task at hand. I joined her because she didn't need me to be panicked and flustered. Since we were staying home, I put my PJs back on so I would be comfortable to do whatever we were about to do.

Sophia sat there breathing through contractions for what felt like an eternity. It was agonizing sitting there listening to her suffer, knowing I couldn't do anything for her. How did women go through that multiple times?? Were they just gluttons for punishment?

Finally, she asked for help to undress because she felt like it was time to push. We got her out of her clothes, and she sat against the pillows. I thought her groans were terrible before, but I was not prepared for the screams that came out of her as she pushed. She wasn't prepared either because she completely fell apart. I admired her strength thus far and couldn't let her lose it. The baby needed her to keep it together, so I got on cheerleading duty immediately, telling her she could do this, and she was one of the strongest women I knew. I told her she was almost at the finish line and had come so far. She couldn't stop now. I suggested thinking about the baby and what she wanted to say to her once she was out.

"I'm scared, Luca! I wish we were at the hospital!"

"I know. Me too. But you're doing great! You reacted so quickly and knew exactly what to do. I was useless, but you gave me instructions even while you were in so much pain. You're amazing!"

We went through a few rounds of pushes, and each time was more scary than the last. I kept thinking, if something happened to either of them, we were in trouble. I acted like I was brave to support her, but I had never been more afraid in my life. If the Watcher blessed us to get pregnant again, I'll be sure we had a backup plan because I never wanted to be in that position ever again.

The baby crowned, so Sophia grabbed onto me to steady herself for one big, long final push. That one sounded more painful than all every previous screams combined, but she did it. She told me to grab the baby and pull her out. I delivered my own child!! The next day was my birthday, and there was no present I could receive that would make me happier than I was at that moment. I hoped Mama didn't plan anything because I had everything I wanted right in that room, and fatherhood was the best gift.