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#moving companies new zealand
tsnbrainrot · 1 year
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oh god, my mother just showed me a little card that was made for me/about me by my day nursery caretaker when i was like 18 ?? months ?? old ?? and it said 'you like being told stories and you like to Make Decisions'
this might be the most damning piece of evidence that people fundamentally remain the same i've ever seen rip
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earthrelocationusa · 3 months
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Moving from New York to New Zealand is an exciting yet complex process that requires careful planning and professional assistance. Whether you’re relocating for work, family, or the adventure of living in a new country, the journey from the bustling streets of New York to the serene landscapes of New Zealand is a significant transition. This move involves a myriad of details, from packing up your belongings and navigating customs regulations to settling into your new home.
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thelostconsultant · 1 month
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You got me worried
pairing: Max Verstappen x reader
summary: You get into a car accident when you're on the phone with Max, who immediately leaves to see you. Charles finds out what's wrong and offers to go with him. Those few days in the hospital change a few of his personal relationships.
warning: accident, serious injuries. (no death.)
note: My Lestappen heart wanted me to write this.
word count: almost 5.3k
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“You’re stalling,” you said on the other end of the line, and Max could tell you had that adorable smirk on your face that he loved so much.
But he wasn’t stalling, at least not intentionally. He wanted to answer your question, but he honestly didn’t know what to say, so he decided to take his time to figure out what to tell you. Your mother wasn’t very fond of him, she believed that you made a mistake by dating someone whose job was so dangerous, and she always had this bad feeling about him. When he asked you what it meant, you just shrugged as said not to look for logic in this. So he put his own bad feelings aside and played nice every time they were together somewhere. 
And now? Now you wanted to take her on a trip to New Zealand and asked him to tag along if he didn’t have anything else to do. Well, it was clearly a trap. One, he had no official obligations around New Year’s Eve which you knew perfectly well, and two, he wanted to enter the new year on your side, he wanted to kiss you at midnight, so he had no choice but to follow wherever you were heading. 
Letting out a sigh as he leaned back on his bed in the driver’s room, Max decided to yield, something he was only willing to do because of you. “Fine, I’ll go with you,” he told you, trying to keep his annoyance out of his voice. “But why don’t we invite a friend of hers? This way she would be entertained while we spend some time alone. Come on, you owe me this much.”
It was your turn to remain silent, but it only lasted for a few seconds. “I mean, she’s dating this guy now–”
“Someone’s willing to date her?” Shit, this sentence wasn’t meant to slip out. Clearing his throat, he pinched the bridge of his nose and went, “Sorry, I mean, she didn’t seem like she was ready to date just yet.”
“I get what you mean. I don’t know much about him, maybe this could be the perfect chance to get to know him a little better. And you’re right, he could keep her company while we’re having fun on our own,” you said with a laugh. 
Despite the idea being presented for the first time a few minutes ago, Max was already thinking about this trip as the perfect chance to put his plan into motion. Because he’d been planning to take your relationship to the next level, to start a family with you. And what would be better than a proposal in another country and maybe his not so secret attempt to get you pregnant? It would be great, he knew you would be happy. 
But before he could say anything, he heard scream and a loud noise, one that sounded eerily like cars crashing and glass breaking. “What happened?” There was no answer, and he couldn’t help but sit up with his heart ready to jump out of his ribcage. “Baby, please, say something,” he begged, but there was still no response. 
Then he heard people buzzing in the background, talking loudly, screaming for help, telling someone to call the emergency number. One person who was probably close to your car told someone you weren’t moving, but they also said they couldn’t tell if you were dead. Dead. He wanted to shout, he wanted to cry, he felt like throwing up, but somehow he managed to keep his cool. Panicking wouldn’t solve anything, he had to listen for now. But your car’s multimedia system gave in and ended the call, leaving him there with his fears and thoughts. 
Max tried to call you, but no one answered, so he quickly made a few calls to ensure his jet was available the moment he got to the airport. Because the race was over, he only had one or two interviews left, but he couldn’t care less about those. After throwing his things into his backpack, he hurriedly left his room and looked for the press officer to tell her he was leaving right now. She tried to ask him what was wrong, but he just shook his head and waved goodbye, his eyes fixed on the screen as he typed in the address where your phone was at this moment. 
He found a few posts about a crash there, and one of them had a photo as well. It was your car, he knew that right away, but the sight made his heart clench. The other car t-boned yours on the left side, right where you were sitting, which made him afraid there was no way you could survive that crash. But then he found a post about the drivers being taken to the hospital, so maybe it wasn’t so bad, maybe it was just looking bad. 
Suddenly he bumped into someone, which finally made him look up from the screen of his phone. “Sorry,” he said automatically. 
Charles gave him an unimpressed look, motioning towards his phone. “What’s so interesting?”
“An accident,” he replied, having no idea why he answered the question instead of just leaving him there. This caught the other driver’s interest, because he quickly said goodbye to the person he’d been talking to and moved to his side to look at the screen of the device. “That’s my girlfriend’s car on the right.”
“This looks bad. How is she?” he asked, sounding genuinely worried despite only meeting you once. 
Max gulped and shrugged. “I don’t know. I–I was on the phone with her, then I heard a loud crash and a scream. The call ended and no one’s picking up her phone. I don’t know what’s going on, so I’ll just pack my suitcases and head to the airport to get home as soon as possible,” he said without stopping to take a breath. 
Yes, he was panicking, he was losing his cool, but that was the least of his problems right now. All he could think about was the worst case scenario, the possibility of the doctor not being able to save your life. What would he do then? How could he move on from losing you? How could he live his life without hearing your scream all the time? It was all too much, especially after a frustrating race like the one today.
He was pulled out of his thoughts when Charles put a hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes with a serious expression on his face. “Okay, take a deep breath. Are you sure you can drive like this?” For the very first time, he actually considered what he was planning to do, and after a few seconds of thinking, he came to the conclusion that he was definitely not in the right state of mind to drive, so he shook his head. “All right,” the Monegasque began slowly, looking over his shoulder for a moment, “we’ll find someone who can take care of your car, then I’ll give you a ride to the airport. How does that sound?”
It was a long day, Charles had to fight his own battles during the race, mostly with his own team, but there he was, offering to chauffeur him around so he would stay safe. A small, thankful smile crept on his lips as he nodded eventually. Maybe this was for the best, the last thing he wanted was doing something stupid because he was distracted by his fears. 
“Okay. You should get someone to pick you up when you get to Monaco, you shouldn’t drive there either,” Charles told him as they headed back to the Red Bull motorhome.
A desperate laugh left him at this. “Well, she wasn’t there, she was visiting her family, so she’s in a country where the only ones I know are her relatives, and they’re in the hospital with her. But I’ll call a taxi, it’s not a problem,” he explained with a sigh. 
A thoughtful hum from Charles caught his attention as he looked over at him. “Well, in this case I’ll have to drive you around there too,” the other man declared with a kind smile. When Max opened his mouth to tell him it was unnecessary, he just raised his hand to stop him. “I don’t take no for an answer. She’s nice. Hell, it’s easy to tell she has a good influence on you. Now I want to make sure she’s okay too.”
Max could hardly wrap his head around why he offered to help. He surely had better things to do than traveling to a country other than his home, meeting strangers who were the closest to someone he only met once, and providing emotional support to someone he’d been battling with since they were kids. This was beyond him, but he was too afraid to ask for the reason. A little voice in the back of his mind said he was planning something, but then he looked into Charles’s bright eyes and realized he was just being nice. 
They were sitting in the car on the way to the airport when his phone began to ring, and the screen lit up with the name of your mother. Gulping, he swiped his finger and raised the device to his ear. “Hi, Laura, do you know anything about her? Ho–how is she?” he asked, eagerly waiting for the older woman’s reply. 
“I guess you know about the accident then. I’m at the hospital with her. She’s still in surgery and they said it will take a few more hours before they can take her to the ICU. Do you want to come here?”
Did she really ask him if he wanted to be there? After all that time they spent together, after everything they had gone through, she dared to ask him if he wanted to be by her side? Outrageous. “I’m already on my way to the airport, I just need to know which hospital she’s in,” he replied, forcing himself to stay relatively calm. He didn’t want a fight with her, not when they were both in a very fragile state of mind. 
The woman on the other end of the line remained silent for a few seconds, then he heard muffled voices, which was followed by the sound of her clearing her throat. “I’ll send you everything you need to know.”
“Thank you. And if you hear anything, call me. Please.”
“Of course. See you later, Max.”
Once the call ended, he glanced down at his phone and waited until it buzzed again, the notification of a new message showing up. He had a location, although funnily enough, it was sent by your cousin, not your mother. It was a smaller miracle that she called him herself, a part of him expected her to make someone else do this. But at least her dislike for him became obvious once again. 
Charles glanced over at him with a questioning look on his face. “How is she?” he asked, the tone of his voice making it clear that he was walking on eggshells around him.
Max leaned his head against the seat and looked out the window. “Still in surgery, and she will probably be in there for another few hours. Even though she's probably in good hands, I'm not… It's hard to stay positive,” he admitted with a gulp.
“Maybe it will take a while, but she's gonna get better. You need to believe this, otherwise you'll go insane,” the other driver tried, his voice quiet, but confident. 
He was trying to help, and he was right, but his mind was full of thoughts about the worst case scenarios. What if you end up in a coma you don't wake up from? What if there's serious brain damage? What if you can't live the same active life you used to? He knew you would be devastated, and it's not like he would leave you for that, he just didn't know how he could handle it emotionally.
So yeah, he was already going insane. 
“Why are you doing this?” Max asked, voicing the question that had been in the back of his mind for a while now. 
Charles responded with a questioning hum, and despite the pair of sunglasses he wore, it was easy to tell he was watching him with a raised eyebrow. “Why wouldn't I? Look, maybe we're not friends outside the track, but I can imagine how hard this situation must be for you. Just accept the help for once, okay?”
After taking a deep breath, Max nodded. “Thank you.” 
The Monegasque had a smirk on his face when he returned his attention to the road. According to the sat nav, the airport was only five minutes away, so Max unlocked his phone and saw a message from Lando that told him to check X’s trending topics. When he opened the app, he saw his name at the front, and the posts were about some anonymous source leaking information about you being in the hospital. 
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath as he scrolled through the flood of posts. 
“What?”
Looking over at him, Max let out an annoyed groan. “Her accident made it to social media. From what I’ve seen so far was based on a post from someone who either works at the hospital or is a first responder. And someone kept digging until they put the pieces together, so now there’s a photo of the car wreck circling around,” he explained. 
“It’s not that bad. Unless they’re celebrating. Please, tell me they’re not celebrating.”
Max shook his head. “No, it’s not that, but whoever wrote the original post made it clear her life is hanging on a thread. So people are now getting ready for the worst case scenario.”
“Her not surviving this?” Charles guessed as he glanced over at him. When there was a quiet nod in response, he gulped and looked back at the road. “She won’t die. Don’t even think about it. She’s young and strong, and I’m sure she’s a fighter. Okay, we’re here.”
For the first time in a while Max looked up and noticed they had indeed arrived. After getting their suitcases, they got on the jet and sat down to wait for the takeoff. During the flight Charles tried to avert his thoughts by talking about the race and bringing up old memories from their carting days, and Max realized that he had absolutely no idea how he would say thank you for his help. 
For years he assumed their long history of rivalry meant they could never be friends, and their conversations would be nothing but casual chats based on mutual respect. But now he was here, providing the kind of emotional support he so desperately needed. 
Two hours later they entered the hospital building through a big crowd of paparazzi, reporters and fans, trying to navigate through the maze to find where your family was waiting. It took some time, but eventually they found them. Your cousin was the only one who jumped up and ran over to him, her arms sneaking around his body to pull him into a hug as she cried. The poor girl was only sixteen, and despite the age difference you two were the closest, as if you were siblings. His eyes fell on your mother, but she was simply staring ahead with a neutral look in her eyes. 
Charles decided to sit down not far from them, sending a message to his girlfriend so she would know where he was, but Max knew he was paying attention. “Any news?” he asked Sophie, your cousin.
“Yeah, she’s in the ICU, just until they know she’s really stable. She has a badly broken leg, a few broken ribs, one even punctured her lung, and… Yeah, severe concussion, and I think there’s a fracture in her cheek.”
Max gulped as his fingers ran through his hair. “That’s a lot,” he noted, earning a nod. “But she’s relatively okay, right?”
“You can say that,” your mother suddenly spoke up, finally acknowledging him. 
For a few moments they were just staring at each other, and Max was beginning to think she would start blaming him for the accident. Even if she didn’t know about the call they were in at the time, she would sure as hell find a reason to put the blame on him. She always did, whenever you had a bad day, it was surely his fault, even when you weren’t even in the same country.
But to his surprise, that’s not what happened, because she suddenly walked over to him and pulled him into a tight hug. He didn’t even know what to do at first, his eyes were moving back and forth between Sophie and Charles, but they both shrugged to tell him they had no clue what he should do. So he wrapped his arms around her too, soon hearing her crying into his shoulder. 
“I’m glad you’re here, Max,” she said when she took a step back and looked up at him. “I had my doubts, but… Knowing you rushed here after finding out what happened means a lot to me.”
With a sad smile, he nodded. “Where else would I be? I–I don’t know if you knew, but I was on the phone with her when the accident happened. She told me about the trip to New Zealand you’re planning, she was trying to convince me to go with you, and… Would you mind if I tagged along?” he asked, as if he needed her permission. 
But maybe he did. Maybe this hug was the olive branch he’d been hoping to receive one day, the least he could do was make sure she was okay with the plan. And maybe him going with you wasn’t the only thing he should talk to her about, maybe he should mention the most obvious decision he had made during that call. When she said she wouldn’t mind if she joined them, Max took a deep breath, then cleared his throat. 
“There’s something else. I’m planning to propose on New Year’s Eve. A few hours ago I thought your opinion was irrelevant and it’s her decision, but… now I’d like to hear what you have to say. Would you be okay with it?” he asked hesitantly, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to another.
Your mother’s lips curled into a smile all of a sudden, then he reached out to take his hand in hers. “I’m sure that would make her really happy. And if she’s happy, I’m happy. You know what? My idiotic ex-husband used our family heirloom, a beautiful engagement ring, to propose. How about giving that to her?”
“Are you sure?” She nodded without hesitation. “Thank you, that would be great.”
Since the doctor said they would tell them when they could go and see you, Max sat down next to Charles and waited there in silence. The other driver glanced up from his phone every now and then, but eventually he had enough of the silence and decided to pay full attention to him. 
“You okay?” 
He honestly didn’t know the answer to this simple question. You were alive, your mother gave him her blessing, what else would he need? Still, he couldn’t get himself to say yes. “I don’t know,” he admitted quietly. 
Charles nodded as he supportively patted his back. “I’m sure you’ll be better once you see her,” he noted with a small smile. “You heard her mother, the worst part is over, now all she needs is time to recover.”
And that was a problem he had to solve. He knew your mother would be more than happy to help you, he could hire a live-in nurse to take care of you, he could send you to the best rehabilitation facility in Europe, but nothing would make him feel good enough if he couldn’t be there by your side. Because he still had half a season left, he was expected to travel around the world, away from you, and the thought was killing him. 
“Without me,” he eventually said, so quietly that he hoped Charles didn’t catch it.
But he did, and he clearly understood what was bothering him. “I know it’s hard, but she will understand that you can’t be by her side all the time. Once the season’s over, she won’t get rid of you,” he said with a laugh, nudging his side with his elbow. “Come on, let’s get some coffee. We could all use it.”
Max nodded, and as Charles took the orders, he asked Sophie if she would like to come help them. He knew she was a traitor who supported his rival, but she was young and nice, so he chalked it up to teenage stupidity for now. While they waited for the coffees, Charles and Sophie got lost in a conversation that was conveniently in French “so she could practice.” They seemed to get along, and he was glad your cousin had a reason to smile for a while.
This is why he spent this time checking his phone and found a bunch of messages from friends and family, all telling him that they were there if he needed help. Knowing so many people cared about them warmed his heart. It was mostly you, he knew that, your charming personality had everyone wrapped around your finger. This gave him the idea to send a message to his mother and sister, telling them he would propose the moment you were feeling well enough to make a decision. 
A few hours later Charles said goodbye and promised to be back the next day, and soon your family left as well. Your mother wanted to stay, but Max promised to call her if there was anything to know. So he slept on the couch in the waiting room, ignoring the weird look some people gave him the whole evening. A nurse was nice enough to bring him a pillow that made it a bit more bearable, but he wished you could be transferred to a regular room where he could ask for a bed to sleep in next to you. 
In the morning a doctor gently squeezed his shoulder to wake him up, and he groggily rubbed his eyes as he sat up. “Morning, Doctor,” he said, trying hard to fight back a yawn. “Did something happen?”
The man sat down next to him and turned to him with a small smile. “She’s ready to be taken to a normal hospital room. You mentioned to our staff yesterday that you want her to be placed in the VIP section, preferably with an extra bed for you, so we took care of everything. I can walk you there if you’d like,” he offered. 
“Sure, sure, thank you. How is she?”
“A little better. She’s strong, she’s breathing on her own, so I’m confident she’ll pull through. Just be patient,” the doctor replied. 
Once he was in the new room you were being taken to, he sent a text to everyone about your new location, then impatiently waited for your bed to be wheeled in. His foot was tapping fast on the linoleum floor, not stopping until the door opened and a young man stood there with a shocked look on his face. Max raised his hand to say hi, to which the poor man only reacted by going out to continue his work to get you inside. 
A nurse walked in behind him with a kind smile on her lips, then moved her attention back to you as she got you settled in the room. He wanted to go there and take your hand, but he knew he had to wait. He would have time, there was no need to rush, they had to do their job first. You were hooked on machines, your body bandaged all over, and the sight brought tears to his eyes. If he didn’t know you were through the worst part, he would assume you were still between life and death. 
Soon everybody left and he sat on a chair next to your bed, gently taking your hand in his. He had no idea if you could hear him, but he talked to you nonetheless, telling you about him making peace with your mother, about Charles being here with him, about your whole family being here, and about how much he loved you. He even begged you to wake up, to come back to him. 
“Good morning,” came Charles’ voice about an hour later as he walked inside with two cups of coffee, from which he handed one over. “Here, I guess you could use it.”
With a thankful smile, Max took it, then leaned back in the chair and watched as the other man looked down at you with a sigh. “The doctor said she’ll pull through, she just needs to rest,” he told him.
The fellow driver looked up with a smile. “See? I told you.” He sat down on the edge of the other bed and took a sip of his coffee. “Your suitcase is in the back of the car. I didn’t know which hotel you wanted to stay in,” he added.
“Neither. I’m staying with her,” Max was quick to clarify. 
“Yeah, but you need to take a shower, you need to sleep.”
“There’s a bathroom and you’re sitting on my bed. I’ll be fine.”
Charles followed his gaze and let out a tired groan. “She wouldn’t mind if you left for a few hours. Look, why don’t you talk to her mother to take shifts by her side? I’m sure she would understand that you need proper sleep,” he explained, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice. 
Silence followed his words, mostly because Max didn’t feel like arguing about this. He was here to stay, by your side, right until he had no choice but to leave for the next race. “If it was Alex, would you leave her side?” he eventually asked. 
“No,” came the response right away. “I probably wouldn’t.” After sipping their drinks in silence, the Monegasque stood up at one point and threw his now empty cup into the trash can, and turned to him. “Okay, I’ll go get your suitcase so you can freshen up before her family arrives. And Laura is bringing us breakfast, so you’d better look presentable by the time she gets here.”
“Laura? Since when are you on first name terms with her?”
The other man laughed and shrugged. “Since I took the time to have a chat with her yesterday. All right, let’s get you cleaned up.”
For the next few days, this is how things went. Charles was always the first to arrive, then he left to get lunch, and stayed until four or five in the afternoon. Max had told him to go home, that he would be fine now, but he didn’t care about this. He said he wanted to be there, at least until you finally woke up so he could tell you that almost dying just to get an emotional reaction out of your boyfriend was an overkill. And maybe he mentioned one day that Alex would stop talking to him for a few days if he left him alone, so he decided to be a good boy. 
One night he was woken by a strange sound coming from you, as if you were trying to speak up. Ever since you were brought in, he became a light sleeper, so he immediately picked up on the change in the atmosphere of the room. He turned on the light above his bed and moved over to you, his hand falling on your face right away, thumb gently brushing your cheek.
“Hey, baby,” he said as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. “I’m here. What do you need?”
Your eyes turned to him, immediately locking with his blue ones, as you registered that it was truly him. Your fingers squeezed his hand, the feeling of you being awake making him smile. “Can I… get some… water?” you asked hoarsely. 
He immediately reached out for the glass and filled it from the bottle next to it. He helped to put the end of the straw in your mouth and held the glass for you. “I’m so glad you’re finally awake. You almost got me worried,” he explained. 
“How long…?”
“Five days. How are you? Does anything hurt? Should I get a doctor? I should get a doctor, right? Yeah, you just–” 
He only stopped talking because you gave him a tired look and laced your fingers with his. “Max, relax... It’s fine,” you said weakly. “I need a minute… before you call them.”
You didn’t want to talk, you just wanted to be there with him, holding hands while your brain caught up. But eventually he apologized and left to find a nurse, because he was too afraid that something would go wrong if he waited too long. He needed confirmation that you were okay, that it was safe to let you talk, to touch you, to kiss you. He wanted to know when and what you could eat, when he could bring you your favorite coffee. His brain was in overdrive, but he didn’t mind. 
Not when he finally had you back. 
The next morning he was sitting by your side, having a conversation with you about something trivial. Speaking went well now, the soreness in your throat quickly faded with practice. Sure, you still weren’t a hundred percent, but it was much better than what he heard in the middle of the night. He told you what happened, he told you everything he had mentioned while you were unconscious, and your conversation went so well that he didn’t even notice Charles coming in. 
“You’re awake!” the Monegasque said with a bright smile as he handed the usual cup to Max. “How are you feeling?”
You returned his smile, but when you tried to take a deep breath, you couldn’t help but wince. “My ribs hurt like hell when I breathe or talk too much,” you replied. “Thank you for staying with him.”
Charles looked over at Max, then his eyes returned to you. “I’m staying by his side because I don’t want my girlfriend to kick me out.”
After all those days it was hard to tell if he was serious, or if he was just saying this to hide the fact their relationship did change lately. Max surprised himself, because he wanted to believe it was the latter. His gaze returned to you, choosing to stay out of your conversation for now. 
“Still,” you began, but fell silent when you looked over at your boyfriend. “Why can’t you be like Charles?” He gave you a confused look, and out of the corner of his eye he noticed the other driver’s evergrowing smile. “He gets proper sleep. He shaves. He doesn’t live in a hospital room,” you added with a stern look. 
Shaking his head, Max placed a kiss on your temple. “I’m not leaving you. Don’t even think about it.”
“But she’s right,” Charles told him with a shit-eating grin. 
“Go to hell,” Max told him with a roll of his eyes.
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chrysalind · 5 months
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last chance
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pairing: kuroo tetsurou/reader wc: 860 tags: pre-relationship, fluff, high school setting (third year), bad flirting, kuroo is really trying
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"What'd you get for number 8?" Kuroo asks as he leans over you.
"Umm," you tilt your head and the golden light of the late afternoon sun flickers across your cheek. "I think I put down 1868 to 1912."
"Wait, seriously?" He claps his hand on his forehead. That's five questions he's probably got wrong now, not to mention he'd barely finished writing his second essay, meaning the maximum possible grade he could get is...
"I hate history," he grumbles, trying to redirect his train of thought from its depressing destination. "I'm never taking it in university."
You sigh ruefully. "I feel the same way about chemistry. The moment I walked out of yesterday's exam, every piece of knowledge about thermodynamics just—" you wave your hand near your temple, "—vanished."
"Bet you're glad I gave you my notes though, right?"
The train doors slide open and a crowd of students from another school shuffle in. His legs brush against yours as he tries to make more room around him.
"Only because I gave you my English notes," you counter dryly, moving your bookbag onto your lap as a freckled teen slides into the seat beside you. The small plastic Keroppi charm on its side swings erratically against your thigh.
"A more than fair trade," he reasons. "Especially since I was getting the highest mark in chem, while you were just below Takaichi in English."
"Takaichi's mom is from New Zealand," you reply, with a roll of your eyes. "He's been practically fluent since he was born. Plus, your handwriting sucks, so you get points taken off for that."
Kuroo snorts, but has no choice but to concede. After all, he can barely read his own notebooks from last semester.
He watches as the Tokyo cityscape rushes past, still thrumming with life, even as the sun dips low in the sky. It's hard to imagine an afternoon where he won't be packed into the subway at this time, with his loosened Nekoma uniform tie around his collar, and your occasional company on the afternoons he's able to catch you at the school entrance.
His short spell of mourning is interrupted by the announcer as the train pulls into a familiar station. You both exit onto the platform and make a beeline towards the escalators.
"I'm not staying in Tokyo," he says, as you're halfway through the barriers.
Keroppi's face smacks against your zipper as you pause. "Oh?"
"I'm going to Osaka," he continues, weaving through the crowd. You fall into step beside him and there's a second in which Kuroo thinks he's vastly overestimated his importance in your life.
"That's..." He watches as a crease forms between your brows. "I thought you were going to Tokodai."
"Nah," he says, re-adjusting the strap of his bag. "I think it'd be good to gain some independence, you know?"
"Right," you say, tucking your Suica away. The sound of the city fills in the quiet that follows as you step out of the station.
Truthfully, Kuroo had been hoping for something—anything—more than the pensive silence that now settles between the two of you as you both walk the last few blocks of your high school era. But as you round the corner, the weight of the moment only grows heavier.
From his peripheral vision, he can tell you're sulking with your lips turned down in a pout that you probably aren't even aware of. And even though you've never admitted it to anyone, he's not oblivious to the way you can barely hold his gaze for more than two seconds, or how you linger at the intersection when you part ways.
"You know," he says, as you both stand before a crosswalk, "this is probably your last chance."
Your eyes flash up at him.
"What do you mean?"
He straightens up.
"Your last chance to admit that you're in love with me," he blurts. He had meant for it to come out a bit smoother, maybe aiming for a kind of teasing tone, but something had gone horribly wrong in the last second. Embarrassingly, he feels his own cheeks grow hot at the boldness of his declaration.
The crosswalk indicator changes, but you're both frozen in place.
You blink, looking absolutely bewildered, and he begins to fear that he's broken you.
And then an odd sound emerges from your mouth—a short snicker, followed by an open burst of laughter. Your giggle seems to carry over the noise of the traffic around you and Kuroo tries very hard not to die right then and there.
Instead, he forces himself to laugh along. How could he have miscalculated so bad?
He's sure he'll remember this moment for many sleepless nights ahead.
"Don't worry," you say later with the world's most bemused smile, as you near his building. "It's not my last chance."
Kuroo works up the courage to look you in the eye.
"After all, I still have our graduation ceremony."
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antiporn-activist · 6 months
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I thought y'all should read this
I have a free trial to News+ so I copy-pasted it for you here. I don't think Jonathan Haidt would object to more people having this info.
Tumblr wouldn't let me post it until i removed all the links to Haidt's sources. You'll have to take my word that everything is sourced.
End the Phone-Based Childhood Now
The environment in which kids grow up today is hostile to human development.
By Jonathan Haidt
Something went suddenly and horribly wrong for adolescents in the early 2010s. By now you’ve likely seen the statistics: Rates of depression and anxiety in the United States—fairly stable in the 2000s—rose by more than 50 percent in many studies from 2010 to 2019. The suicide rate rose 48 percent for adolescents ages 10 to 19. For girls ages 10 to 14, it rose 131 percent.
The problem was not limited to the U.S.: Similar patterns emerged around the same time in Canada, the U.K., Australia, New Zealand, the Nordic countries, and beyond. By a variety of measures and in a variety of countries, the members of Generation Z (born in and after 1996) are suffering from anxiety, depression, self-harm, and related disorders at levels higher than any other generation for which we have data.
The decline in mental health is just one of many signs that something went awry. Loneliness and friendlessness among American teens began to surge around 2012. Academic achievement went down, too. According to “The Nation’s Report Card,” scores in reading and math began to decline for U.S. students after 2012, reversing decades of slow but generally steady increase. PISA, the major international measure of educational trends, shows that declines in math, reading, and science happened globally, also beginning in the early 2010s.
As the oldest members of Gen Z reach their late 20s, their troubles are carrying over into adulthood. Young adults are dating less, having less sex, and showing less interest in ever having children than prior generations. They are more likelyto live with their parents. They were less likely to get jobs as teens, and managers say they are harder to work with. Many of these trends began with earlier generations, but most of them accelerated with Gen Z.
Surveys show that members of Gen Z are shyer and more risk averse than previous generations, too, and risk aversion may make them less ambitious. In an interview last May, OpenAI co-founder Sam Altman and Stripe co-founder Patrick Collison noted that, for the first time since the 1970s, none of Silicon Valley’s preeminent entrepreneurs are under 30. “Something has really gone wrong,” Altman said. In a famously young industry, he was baffled by the sudden absence of great founders in their 20s.
Generations are not monolithic, of course. Many young people are flourishing. Taken as a whole, however, Gen Z is in poor mental health and is lagging behind previous generations on many important metrics. And if a generation is doing poorly––if it is more anxious and depressed and is starting families, careers, and important companies at a substantially lower rate than previous generations––then the sociological and economic consequences will be profound for the entire society.
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What happened in the early 2010s that altered adolescent development and worsened mental health? Theories abound, but the fact that similar trends are found in many countries worldwide means that events and trends that are specific to the United States cannot be the main story.
I think the answer can be stated simply, although the underlying psychology is complex: Those were the years when adolescents in rich countries traded in their flip phones for smartphones and moved much more of their social lives online—particularly onto social-media platforms designed for virality and addiction. Once young people began carrying the entire internet in their pockets, available to them day and night, it altered their daily experiences and developmental pathways across the board. Friendship, dating, sexuality, exercise, sleep, academics, politics, family dynamics, identity—all were affected. Life changed rapidly for younger children, too, as they began to get access to their parents’ smartphones and, later, got their own iPads, laptops, and even smartphones during elementary school.
As a social psychologist who has long studied social and moral development, I have been involved in debates about the effects of digital technology for years. Typically, the scientific questions have been framed somewhat narrowly, to make them easier to address with data. For example, do adolescents who consume more social media have higher levels of depression? Does using a smartphone just before bedtime interfere with sleep? The answer to these questions is usually found to be yes, although the size of the relationship is often statistically small, which has led some researchers to conclude that these new technologies are not responsible for the gigantic increases in mental illness that began in the early 2010s.
But before we can evaluate the evidence on any one potential avenue of harm, we need to step back and ask a broader question: What is childhood––including adolescence––and how did it change when smartphones moved to the center of it? If we take a more holistic view of what childhood is and what young children, tweens, and teens need to do to mature into competent adults, the picture becomes much clearer. Smartphone-based life, it turns out, alters or interferes with a great number of developmental processes.
The intrusion of smartphones and social media are not the only changes that have deformed childhood. There’s an important backstory, beginning as long ago as the 1980s, when we started systematically depriving children and adolescents of freedom, unsupervised play, responsibility, and opportunities for risk taking, all of which promote competence, maturity, and mental health. But the change in childhood accelerated in the early 2010s, when an already independence-deprived generation was lured into a new virtual universe that seemed safe to parents but in fact is more dangerous, in many respects, than the physical world.
My claim is that the new phone-based childhood that took shape roughly 12 years ago is making young people sick and blocking their progress to flourishing in adulthood. We need a dramatic cultural correction, and we need it now.
1. The Decline of Play and Independence 
Human brains are extraordinarily large compared with those of other primates, and human childhoods are extraordinarily long, too, to give those large brains time to wire up within a particular culture. A child’s brain is already 90 percent of its adult size by about age 6. The next 10 or 15 years are about learning norms and mastering skills—physical, analytical, creative, and social. As children and adolescents seek out experiences and practice a wide variety of behaviors, the synapses and neurons that are used frequently are retained while those that are used less often disappear. Neurons that fire together wire together, as brain researchers say.
Brain development is sometimes said to be “experience-expectant,” because specific parts of the brain show increased plasticity during periods of life when an animal’s brain can “expect” to have certain kinds of experiences. You can see this with baby geese, who will imprint on whatever mother-sized object moves in their vicinity just after they hatch. You can see it with human children, who are able to learn languages quickly and take on the local accent, but only through early puberty; after that, it’s hard to learn a language and sound like a native speaker. There is also some evidence of a sensitive period for cultural learning more generally. Japanese children who spent a few years in California in the 1970s came to feel “American” in their identity and ways of interacting only if they attended American schools for a few years between ages 9 and 15. If they left before age 9, there was no lasting impact. If they didn’t arrive until they were 15, it was too late; they didn’t come to feel American.
Human childhood is an extended cultural apprenticeship with different tasks at different ages all the way through puberty. Once we see it this way, we can identify factors that promote or impede the right kinds of learning at each age. For children of all ages, one of the most powerful drivers of learning is the strong motivation to play. Play is the work of childhood, and all young mammals have the same job: to wire up their brains by playing vigorously and often, practicing the moves and skills they’ll need as adults. Kittens will play-pounce on anything that looks like a mouse tail. Human children will play games such as tag and sharks and minnows, which let them practice both their predator skills and their escaping-from-predator skills. Adolescents will play sports with greater intensity, and will incorporate playfulness into their social interactions—flirting, teasing, and developing inside jokes that bond friends together. Hundreds of studies on young rats, monkeys, and humans show that young mammals want to play, need to play, and end up socially, cognitively, and emotionally impaired when they are deprived of play.
One crucial aspect of play is physical risk taking. Children and adolescents must take risks and fail—often—in environments in which failure is not very costly. This is how they extend their abilities, overcome their fears, learn to estimate risk, and learn to cooperate in order to take on larger challenges later. The ever-present possibility of getting hurt while running around, exploring, play-fighting, or getting into a real conflict with another group adds an element of thrill, and thrilling play appears to be the most effective kind for overcoming childhood anxieties and building social, emotional, and physical competence. The desire for risk and thrill increases in the teen years, when failure might carry more serious consequences. Children of all ages need to choose the risk they are ready for at a given moment. Young people who are deprived of opportunities for risk taking and independent exploration will, on average, develop into more anxious and risk-averse adults.
Human childhood and adolescence evolved outdoors, in a physical world full of dangers and opportunities. Its central activities––play, exploration, and intense socializing––were largely unsupervised by adults, allowing children to make their own choices, resolve their own conflicts, and take care of one another. Shared adventures and shared adversity bound young people together into strong friendship clusters within which they mastered the social dynamics of small groups, which prepared them to master bigger challenges and larger groups later on.
And then we changed childhood.
The changes started slowly in the late 1970s and ’80s, before the arrival of the internet, as many parents in the U.S. grew fearful that their children would be harmed or abducted if left unsupervised. Such crimes have always been extremely rare, but they loomed larger in parents’ minds thanks in part to rising levels of street crime combined with the arrival of cable TV, which enabled round-the-clock coverage of missing-children cases. A general decline in social capital––the degree to which people knew and trusted their neighbors and institutions––exacerbated parental fears. Meanwhile, rising competition for college admissions encouraged more intensive forms of parenting. In the 1990s, American parents began pulling their children indoors or insisting that afternoons be spent in adult-run enrichment activities. Free play, independent exploration, and teen-hangout time declined.
In recent decades, seeing unchaperoned children outdoors has become so novel that when one is spotted in the wild, some adults feel it is their duty to call the police. In 2015, the Pew Research Center found that parents, on average, believed that children should be at least 10 years old to play unsupervised in front of their house, and that kids should be 14 before being allowed to go unsupervised to a public park. Most of these same parents had enjoyed joyous and unsupervised outdoor play by the age of 7 or 8.
2. The Virtual World Arrives in Two Waves
The internet, which now dominates the lives of young people, arrived in two waves of linked technologies. The first one did little harm to Millennials. The second one swallowed Gen Z whole.
The first wave came ashore in the 1990s with the arrival of dial-up internet access, which made personal computers good for something beyond word processing and basic games. By 2003, 55 percent of American households had a computer with (slow) internet access. Rates of adolescent depression, loneliness, and other measures of poor mental health did not rise in this first wave. If anything, they went down a bit. Millennial teens (born 1981 through 1995), who were the first to go through puberty with access to the internet, were psychologically healthier and happier, on average, than their older siblings or parents in Generation X (born 1965 through 1980).
The second wave began to rise in the 2000s, though its full force didn’t hit until the early 2010s. It began rather innocently with the introduction of social-media platforms that helped people connect with their friends. Posting and sharing content became much easier with sites such as Friendster (launched in 2003), Myspace (2003), and Facebook (2004).
Teens embraced social media soon after it came out, but the time they could spend on these sites was limited in those early years because the sites could only be accessed from a computer, often the family computer in the living room. Young people couldn’t access social media (and the rest of the internet) from the school bus, during class time, or while hanging out with friends outdoors. Many teens in the early-to-mid-2000s had cellphones, but these were basic phones (many of them flip phones) that had no internet access. Typing on them was difficult––they had only number keys. Basic phones were tools that helped Millennials meet up with one another in person or talk with each other one-on-one. I have seen no evidence to suggest that basic cellphones harmed the mental health of Millennials.
It was not until the introduction of the iPhone (2007), the App Store (2008), and high-speed internet (which reached 50 percent of American homes in 2007)—and the corresponding pivot to mobile made by many providers of social media, video games, and porn—that it became possible for adolescents to spend nearly every waking moment online. The extraordinary synergy among these innovations was what powered the second technological wave. In 2011, only 23 percent of teens had a smartphone. By 2015, that number had risen to 73 percent, and a quarter of teens said they were online “almost constantly.” Their younger siblings in elementary school didn’t usually have their own smartphones, but after its release in 2010, the iPad quickly became a staple of young children’s daily lives. It was in this brief period, from 2010 to 2015, that childhood in America (and many other countries) was rewired into a form that was more sedentary, solitary, virtual, and incompatible with healthy human development.
3. Techno-optimism and the Birth of the Phone-Based Childhood
The phone-based childhood created by that second wave—including not just smartphones themselves, but all manner of internet-connected devices, such as tablets, laptops, video-game consoles, and smartwatches—arrived near the end of a period of enormous optimism about digital technology. The internet came into our lives in the mid-1990s, soon after the fall of the Soviet Union. By the end of that decade, it was widely thought that the web would be an ally of democracy and a slayer of tyrants. When people are connected to each other, and to all the information in the world, how could any dictator keep them down?
In the 2000s, Silicon Valley and its world-changing inventions were a source of pride and excitement in America. Smart and ambitious young people around the world wanted to move to the West Coast to be part of the digital revolution. Tech-company founders such as Steve Jobs and Sergey Brin were lauded as gods, or at least as modern Prometheans, bringing humans godlike powers. The Arab Spring bloomed in 2011 with the help of decentralized social platforms, including Twitter and Facebook. When pundits and entrepreneurs talked about the power of social media to transform society, it didn’t sound like a dark prophecy.
You have to put yourself back in this heady time to understand why adults acquiesced so readily to the rapid transformation of childhood. Many parents had concerns, even then, about what their children were doing online, especially because of the internet’s ability to put children in contact with strangers. But there was also a lot of excitement about the upsides of this new digital world. If computers and the internet were the vanguards of progress, and if young people––widely referred to as “digital natives”––were going to live their lives entwined with these technologies, then why not give them a head start? I remember how exciting it was to see my 2-year-old son master the touch-and-swipe interface of my first iPhone in 2008. I thought I could see his neurons being woven together faster as a result of the stimulation it brought to his brain, compared to the passivity of watching television or the slowness of building a block tower. I thought I could see his future job prospects improving.
Touchscreen devices were also a godsend for harried parents. Many of us discovered that we could have peace at a restaurant, on a long car trip, or at home while making dinner or replying to emails if we just gave our children what they most wanted: our smartphones and tablets. We saw that everyone else was doing it and figured it must be okay.
It was the same for older children, desperate to join their friends on social-media platforms, where the minimum age to open an account was set by law to 13, even though no research had been done to establish the safety of these products for minors. Because the platforms did nothing (and still do nothing) to verify the stated age of new-account applicants, any 10-year-old could open multiple accounts without parental permission or knowledge, and many did. Facebook and later Instagram became places where many sixth and seventh graders were hanging out and socializing. If parents did find out about these accounts, it was too late. Nobody wanted their child to be isolated and alone, so parents rarely forced their children to shut down their accounts.
We had no idea what we were doing.
4. The High Cost of a Phone-Based Childhood
In Walden, his 1854 reflection on simple living, Henry David Thoreau wrote, “The cost of a thing is the amount of … life which is required to be exchanged for it, immediately or in the long run.” It’s an elegant formulation of what economists would later call the opportunity cost of any choice—all of the things you can no longer do with your money and time once you’ve committed them to something else. So it’s important that we grasp just how much of a young person’s day is now taken up by their devices.
The numbers are hard to believe. The most recent Gallup data show that American teens spend about five hours a day just on social-media platforms (including watching videos on TikTok and YouTube). Add in all the other phone- and screen-based activities, and the number rises to somewhere between seven and nine hours a day, on average. The numbers are even higher in single-parent and low-income families, and among Black, Hispanic, and Native American families.
In Thoreau’s terms, how much of life is exchanged for all this screen time? Arguably, most of it. Everything else in an adolescent’s day must get squeezed down or eliminated entirely to make room for the vast amount of content that is consumed, and for the hundreds of “friends,” “followers,” and other network connections that must be serviced with texts, posts, comments, likes, snaps, and direct messages. I recently surveyed my students at NYU, and most of them reported that the very first thing they do when they open their eyes in the morning is check their texts, direct messages, and social-media feeds. It’s also the last thing they do before they close their eyes at night. And it’s a lot of what they do in between.
The amount of time that adolescents spend sleeping declined in the early 2010s, and many studies tie sleep loss directly to the use of devices around bedtime, particularly when they’re used to scroll through social media. Exercise declined, too, which is unfortunate because exercise, like sleep, improves both mental and physical health. Book reading has been declining for decades, pushed aside by digital alternatives, but the decline, like so much else, sped up in the early 2010s. With passive entertainment always available, adolescent minds likely wander less than they used to; contemplation and imagination might be placed on the list of things winnowed down or crowded out.
But perhaps the most devastating cost of the new phone-based childhood was the collapse of time spent interacting with other people face-to-face. A study of how Americans spend their time found that, before 2010, young people (ages 15 to 24) reported spending far more time with their friends (about two hours a day, on average, not counting time together at school) than did older people (who spent just 30 to 60 minutes with friends). Time with friends began decreasing for young people in the 2000s, but the drop accelerated in the 2010s, while it barely changed for older people. By 2019, young people’s time with friends had dropped to just 67 minutes a day. It turns out that Gen Z had been socially distancing for many years and had mostly completed the project by the time COVID-19 struck.
You might question the importance of this decline. After all, isn’t much of this online time spent interacting with friends through texting, social media, and multiplayer video games? Isn’t that just as good?
Some of it surely is, and virtual interactions offer unique benefits too, especially for young people who are geographically or socially isolated. But in general, the virtual world lacks many of the features that make human interactions in the real world nutritious, as we might say, for physical, social, and emotional development. In particular, real-world relationships and social interactions are characterized by four features—typical for hundreds of thousands of years—that online interactions either distort or erase.
First, real-world interactions are embodied, meaning that we use our hands and facial expressions to communicate, and we learn to respond to the body language of others. Virtual interactions, in contrast, mostly rely on language alone. No matter how many emojis are offered as compensation, the elimination of communication channels for which we have eons of evolutionary programming is likely to produce adults who are less comfortable and less skilled at interacting in person.
Second, real-world interactions are synchronous; they happen at the same time. As a result, we learn subtle cues about timing and conversational turn taking. Synchronous interactions make us feel closer to the other person because that’s what getting “in sync” does. Texts, posts, and many other virtual interactions lack synchrony. There is less real laughter, more room for misinterpretation, and more stress after a comment that gets no immediate response.
Third, real-world interactions primarily involve one‐to‐one communication, or sometimes one-to-several. But many virtual communications are broadcast to a potentially huge audience. Online, each person can engage in dozens of asynchronous interactions in parallel, which interferes with the depth achieved in all of them. The sender’s motivations are different, too: With a large audience, one’s reputation is always on the line; an error or poor performance can damage social standing with large numbers of peers. These communications thus tend to be more performative and anxiety-inducing than one-to-one conversations.
Finally, real-world interactions usually take place within communities that have a high bar for entry and exit, so people are strongly motivated to invest in relationships and repair rifts when they happen. But in many virtual networks, people can easily block others or quit when they are displeased. Relationships within such networks are usually more disposable.
These unsatisfying and anxiety-producing features of life online should be recognizable to most adults. Online interactions can bring out antisocial behavior that people would never display in their offline communities. But if life online takes a toll on adults, just imagine what it does to adolescents in the early years of puberty, when their “experience expectant” brains are rewiring based on feedback from their social interactions.
Kids going through puberty online are likely to experience far more social comparison, self-consciousness, public shaming, and chronic anxiety than adolescents in previous generations, which could potentially set developing brains into a habitual state of defensiveness. The brain contains systems that are specialized for approach (when opportunities beckon) and withdrawal (when threats appear or seem likely). People can be in what we might call “discover mode” or “defend mode” at any moment, but generally not both. The two systems together form a mechanism for quickly adapting to changing conditions, like a thermostat that can activate either a heating system or a cooling system as the temperature fluctuates. Some people’s internal thermostats are generally set to discover mode, and they flip into defend mode only when clear threats arise. These people tend to see the world as full of opportunities. They are happier and less anxious. Other people’s internal thermostats are generally set to defend mode, and they flip into discover mode only when they feel unusually safe. They tend to see the world as full of threats and are more prone to anxiety and depressive disorders.
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A simple way to understand the differences between Gen Z and previous generations is that people born in and after 1996 have internal thermostats that were shifted toward defend mode. This is why life on college campuses changed so suddenly when Gen Z arrived, beginning around 2014. Students began requesting “safe spaces” and trigger warnings. They were highly sensitive to “microaggressions” and sometimes claimed that words were “violence.” These trends mystified those of us in older generations at the time, but in hindsight, it all makes sense. Gen Z students found words, ideas, and ambiguous social encounters more threatening than had previous generations of students because we had fundamentally altered their psychological development.
5. So Many Harms
The debate around adolescents’ use of smartphones and social media typically revolves around mental health, and understandably so. But the harms that have resulted from transforming childhood so suddenly and heedlessly go far beyondmental health. I’ve touched on some of them—social awkwardness, reduced self-confidence, and a more sedentary childhood. Here are three additional harms.
Fragmented Attention, Disrupted Learning
Staying on task while sitting at a computer is hard enough for an adult with a fully developed prefrontal cortex. It is far more difficult for adolescents in front of their laptop trying to do homework. They are probably less intrinsically motivated to stay on task. They’re certainly less able, given their undeveloped prefrontal cortex, and hence it’s easy for any company with an app to lure them away with an offer of social validation or entertainment. Their phones are pinging constantly—one study found that the typical adolescent now gets 237 notifications a day, roughly 15 every waking hour. Sustained attention is essential for doing almost anything big, creative, or valuable, yet young people find their attention chopped up into little bits by notifications offering the possibility of high-pleasure, low-effort digital experiences.
It even happens in the classroom. Studies confirm that when students have access to their phones during class time, they use them, especially for texting and checking social media, and their grades and learning suffer. This might explain why benchmark test scores began to decline in the U.S. and around the world in the early 2010s—well before the pandemic hit.
Addiction and Social Withdrawal
The neural basis of behavioral addiction to social media or video games is not exactly the same as chemical addiction to cocaine or opioids. Nonetheless, they all involve abnormally heavy and sustained activation of dopamine neurons and reward pathways. Over time, the brain adapts to these high levels of dopamine; when the child is not engaged in digital activity, their brain doesn’t have enough dopamine, and the child experiences withdrawal symptoms. These generally include anxiety, insomnia, and intense irritability. Kids with these kinds of behavioral addictions often become surly and aggressive, and withdraw from their families into their bedrooms and devices.
Social-media and gaming platforms were designed to hook users. How successful are they? How many kids suffer from digital addictions?
The main addiction risks for boys seem to be video games and porn. “Internet gaming disorder,” which was added to the main diagnosis manual of psychiatry in 2013 as a condition for further study, describes “significant impairment or distress” in several aspects of life, along with many hallmarks of addiction, including an inability to reduce usage despite attempts to do so. Estimates for the prevalence of IGD range from 7 to 15 percent among adolescent boys and young men. As for porn, a nationally representative survey of American adults published in 2019 found that 7 percent of American men agreed or strongly agreed with the statement “I am addicted to pornography”—and the rates were higher for the youngest men.
Girls have much lower rates of addiction to video games and porn, but they use social media more intensely than boys do. A study of teens in 29 nations found that between 5 and 15 percent of adolescents engage in what is called “problematic social media use,” which includes symptoms such as preoccupation, withdrawal symptoms, neglect of other areas of life, and lying to parents and friends about time spent on social media. That study did not break down results by gender, but many others have found that rates of “problematic use” are higher for girls.
I don’t want to overstate the risks: Most teens do not become addicted to their phones and video games. But across multiple studies and across genders, rates of problematic use come out in the ballpark of 5 to 15 percent. Is there any other consumer product that parents would let their children use relatively freely if they knew that something like one in 10 kids would end up with a pattern of habitual and compulsive use that disrupted various domains of life and looked a lot like an addiction?
The Decay of Wisdom and the Loss of Meaning 
During that crucial sensitive period for cultural learning, from roughly ages 9 through 15, we should be especially thoughtful about who is socializing our children for adulthood. Instead, that’s when most kids get their first smartphone and sign themselves up (with or without parental permission) to consume rivers of content from random strangers. Much of that content is produced by other adolescents, in blocks of a few minutes or a few seconds.
This rerouting of enculturating content has created a generation that is largely cut off from older generations and, to some extent, from the accumulated wisdom of humankind, including knowledge about how to live a flourishing life. Adolescents spend less time steeped in their local or national culture. They are coming of age in a confusing, placeless, ahistorical maelstrom of 30-second stories curated by algorithms designed to mesmerize them. Without solid knowledge of the past and the filtering of good ideas from bad––a process that plays out over many generations––young people will be more prone to believe whatever terrible ideas become popular around them, which might explain why videos showing young people reacting positively to Osama bin Laden’s thoughts about America were trending on TikTok last fall.
All this is made worse by the fact that so much of digital public life is an unending supply of micro dramas about somebody somewhere in our country of 340 million people who did something that can fuel an outrage cycle, only to be pushed aside by the next. It doesn’t add up to anything and leaves behind only a distorted sense of human nature and affairs.
When our public life becomes fragmented, ephemeral, and incomprehensible, it is a recipe for anomie, or normlessness. The great French sociologist Émile Durkheim showed long ago that a society that fails to bind its people together with some shared sense of sacredness and common respect for rules and norms is not a society of great individual freedom; it is, rather, a place where disoriented individuals have difficulty setting goals and exerting themselves to achieve them. Durkheim argued that anomie was a major driver of suicide rates in European countries. Modern scholars continue to draw on his work to understand suicide rates today. 
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Durkheim’s observations are crucial for understanding what happened in the early 2010s. A long-running survey of American teens found that, from 1990 to 2010, high-school seniors became slightly less likely to agree with statements such as “Life often feels meaningless.” But as soon as they adopted a phone-based life and many began to live in the whirlpool of social media, where no stability can be found, every measure of despair increased. From 2010 to 2019, the number who agreed that their lives felt “meaningless” increased by about 70 percent, to more than one in five.
6. Young People Don’t Like Their Phone-Based Lives
How can I be confident that the epidemic of adolescent mental illness was kicked off by the arrival of the phone-based childhood? Skeptics point to other events as possible culprits, including the 2008 global financial crisis, global warming, the 2012 Sandy Hook school shooting and the subsequent active-shooter drills, rising academic pressures, and the opioid epidemic. But while these events might have been contributing factors in some countries, none can explain both the timing and international scope of the disaster.
An additional source of evidence comes from Gen Z itself. With all the talk of regulating social media, raising age limits, and getting phones out of schools, you might expect to find many members of Gen Z writing and speaking out in opposition. I’ve looked for such arguments and found hardly any. In contrast, many young adults tell stories of devastation.
Freya India, a 24-year-old British essayist who writes about girls, explains how social-media sites carry girls off to unhealthy places: “It seems like your child is simply watching some makeup tutorials, following some mental health influencers, or experimenting with their identity. But let me tell you: they are on a conveyor belt to someplace bad. Whatever insecurity or vulnerability they are struggling with, they will be pushed further and further into it.” She continues:
Gen Z were the guinea pigs in this uncontrolled global social experiment. We were the first to have our vulnerabilities and insecurities fed into a machine that magnified and refracted them back at us, all the time, before we had any sense of who we were. We didn’t just grow up with algorithms. They raised us. They rearranged our faces. Shaped our identities. Convinced us we were sick.
Rikki Schlott, a 23-year-old American journalist and co-author of The Canceling of the American Mind, writes,
"The day-to-day life of a typical teen or tween today would be unrecognizable to someone who came of age before the smartphone arrived. Zoomers are spending an average of 9 hours daily in this screen-time doom loop—desperate to forget the gaping holes they’re bleeding out of, even if just for … 9 hours a day. Uncomfortable silence could be time to ponder why they’re so miserable in the first place. Drowning it out with algorithmic white noise is far easier."
A 27-year-old man who spent his adolescent years addicted (his word) to video games and pornography sent me this reflection on what that did to him:
I missed out on a lot of stuff in life—a lot of socialization. I feel the effects now: meeting new people, talking to people. I feel that my interactions are not as smooth and fluid as I want. My knowledge of the world (geography, politics, etc.) is lacking. I didn’t spend time having conversations or learning about sports. I often feel like a hollow operating system.
Or consider what Facebook found in a research project involving focus groups of young people, revealed in 2021 by the whistleblower Frances Haugen: “Teens blame Instagram for increases in the rates of anxiety and depression among teens,” an internal document said. “This reaction was unprompted and consistent across all groups.”
7. Collective-Action Problems
Social-media companies such as Meta, TikTok, and Snap are often compared to tobacco companies, but that’s not really fair to the tobacco industry. It’s true that companies in both industries marketed harmful products to children and tweaked their products for maximum customer retention (that is, addiction), but there’s a big difference: Teens could and did choose, in large numbers, not to smoke. Even at the peak of teen cigarette use, in 1997, nearly two-thirds of high-school students did not smoke.
Social media, in contrast, applies a lot more pressure on nonusers, at a much younger age and in a more insidious way. Once a few students in any middle school lie about their age and open accounts at age 11 or 12, they start posting photos and comments about themselves and other students. Drama ensues. The pressure on everyone else to join becomes intense. Even a girl who knows, consciously, that Instagram can foster beauty obsession, anxiety, and eating disorders might sooner take those risks than accept the seeming certainty of being out of the loop, clueless, and excluded. And indeed, if she resists while most of her classmates do not, she might, in fact, be marginalized, which puts her at risk for anxiety and depression, though via a different pathway than the one taken by those who use social media heavily. In this way, social media accomplishes a remarkable feat: It even harms adolescents who do not use it.
A recent study led by the University of Chicago economist Leonardo Bursztyn captured the dynamics of the social-media trap precisely. The researchers recruited more than 1,000 college students and asked them how much they’d need to be paid to deactivate their accounts on either Instagram or TikTok for four weeks. That’s a standard economist’s question to try to compute the net value of a product to society. On average, students said they’d need to be paid roughly $50 ($59 for TikTok, $47 for Instagram) to deactivate whichever platform they were asked about. Then the experimenters told the students that they were going to try to get most of the others in their school to deactivate that same platform, offering to pay them to do so as well, and asked, Now how much would you have to be paid to deactivate, if most others did so? The answer, on average, was less than zero. In each case, most students were willing to pay to have that happen.
Social media is all about network effects. Most students are only on it because everyone else is too. Most of them would prefer that nobody be on these platforms. Later in the study, students were asked directly, “Would you prefer to live in a world without Instagram [or TikTok]?” A majority of students said yes––58 percent for each app.
This is the textbook definition of what social scientists call a collective-action problem. It’s what happens when a group would be better off if everyone in the group took a particular action, but each actor is deterred from acting, because unless the others do the same, the personal cost outweighs the benefit. Fishermen considering limiting their catch to avoid wiping out the local fish population are caught in this same kind of trap. If no one else does it too, they just lose profit.
Cigarettes trapped individual smokers with a biological addiction. Social media has trapped an entire generation in a collective-action problem. Early app developers deliberately and knowingly exploited the psychological weaknesses and insecurities of young people to pressure them to consume a product that, upon reflection, many wish they could use less, or not at all.
8. Four Norms to Break Four Traps
Young people and their parents are stuck in at least four collective-action traps. Each is hard to escape for an individual family, but escape becomes much easier if families, schools, and communities coordinate and act together. Here are four norms that would roll back the phone-based childhood. I believe that any community that adopts all four will see substantial improvements in youth mental health within two years.
No smartphones before high school  
The trap here is that each child thinks they need a smartphone because “everyone else” has one, and many parents give in because they don’t want their child to feel excluded. But if no one else had a smartphone—or even if, say, only half of the child’s sixth-grade class had one—parents would feel more comfortable providing a basic flip phone (or no phone at all). Delaying round-the-clock internet access until ninth grade (around age 14) as a national or community norm would help to protect adolescents during the very vulnerable first few years of puberty. According to a 2022 British study, these are the years when social-media use is most correlated with poor mental health. Family policies about tablets, laptops, and video-game consoles should be aligned with smartphone restrictions to prevent overuse of other screen activities.
No social media before 16
The trap here, as with smartphones, is that each adolescent feels a strong need to open accounts on TikTok, Instagram, Snapchat, and other platforms primarily because that’s where most of their peers are posting and gossiping. But if the majority of adolescents were not on these accounts until they were 16, families and adolescents could more easily resist the pressure to sign up. The delay would not mean that kids younger than 16 could never watch videos on TikTok or YouTube—only that they could not open accounts, give away their data, post their own content, and let algorithms get to know them and their preferences.
Phone‐free schools 
Most schools claim that they ban phones, but this usually just means that students aren’t supposed to take their phone out of their pocket during class. Research shows that most students do use their phones during class time. They also use them during lunchtime, free periods, and breaks between classes––times when students could and should be interacting with their classmates face-to-face. The only way to get students’ minds off their phones during the school day is to require all students to put their phones (and other devices that can send or receive texts) into a phone locker or locked pouch at the start of the day. Schools that have gone phone-free always seem to report that it has improved the culture, making students more attentive in class and more interactive with one another. Published studies back them up.
More independence, free play, and responsibility in the real world
Many parents are afraid to give their children the level of independence and responsibility they themselves enjoyed when they were young, even though rates of homicide, drunk driving, and other physical threats to children are way down in recent decades. Part of the fear comes from the fact that parents look at each other to determine what is normal and therefore safe, and they see few examples of families acting as if a 9-year-old can be trusted to walk to a store without a chaperone. But if many parents started sending their children out to play or run errands, then the norms of what is safe and accepted would change quickly. So would ideas about what constitutes “good parenting.” And if more parents trusted their children with more responsibility––for example, by asking their kids to do more to help out, or to care for others––then the pervasive sense of uselessness now found in surveys of high-school students might begin to dissipate.
It would be a mistake to overlook this fourth norm. If parents don’t replace screen time with real-world experiences involving friends and independent activity, then banning devices will feel like deprivation, not the opening up of a world of opportunities.
The main reason why the phone-based childhood is so harmful is because it pushes aside everything else. Smartphones are experience blockers. Our ultimate goal should not be to remove screens entirely, nor should it be to return childhood to exactly the way it was in 1960. Rather, it should be to create a version of childhood and adolescence that keeps young people anchored in the real world while flourishing in the digital age.
9. What Are We Waiting For?
An essential function of government is to solve collective-action problems. Congress could solve or help solve the ones I’ve highlighted—for instance, by raising the age of “internet adulthood” to 16 and requiring tech companies to keep underage children off their sites.
In recent decades, however, Congress has not been good at addressing public concerns when the solutions would displease a powerful and deep-pocketed industry. Governors and state legislators have been much more effective, and their successes might let us evaluate how well various reforms work. But the bottom line is that to change norms, we’re going to need to do most of the work ourselves, in neighborhood groups, schools, and other communities.
There are now hundreds of organizations––most of them started by mothers who saw what smartphones had done to their children––that are working to roll back the phone-based childhood or promote a more independent, real-world childhood. (I have assembled a list of many of them.) One that I co-founded, at LetGrow.org, suggests a variety of simple programs for parents or schools, such as play club (schools keep the playground open at least one day a week before or after school, and kids sign up for phone-free, mixed-age, unstructured play as a regular weekly activity) and the Let Grow Experience (a series of homework assignments in which students––with their parents’ consent––choose something to do on their own that they’ve never done before, such as walk the dog, climb a tree, walk to a store, or cook dinner).
Parents are fed up with what childhood has become. Many are tired of having daily arguments about technologies that were designed to grab hold of their children’s attention and not let go. But the phone-based childhood is not inevitable.
The four norms I have proposed cost almost nothing to implement, they cause no clear harm to anyone, and while they could be supported by new legislation, they can be instilled even without it. We can begin implementing all of them right away, this year, especially in communities with good cooperation between schools and parents. A single memo from a principal asking parents to delay smartphones and social media, in support of the school’s effort to improve mental health by going phone free, would catalyze collective action and reset the community’s norms.
We didn’t know what we were doing in the early 2010s. Now we do. It’s time to end the phone-based childhood.
This article is adapted from Jonathan Haidt’s forthcoming book, The Anxious Generation: How the Great Rewiring of Childhood Is Causing an Epidemic of Mental Illness.
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A research paper published in Science Advances reveals a direct correlation between plastic production and plastic pollution, such that every 1% increase in plastic production is associated with a 1% increase in plastic pollution in the environment. The study finds that fast-moving consumer goods companies disproportionately contribute to the problem more than household and retail companies. The study marks the first robust quantification of the global relationship between plastic production and pollution. The research, led by scientists from a dozen different universities in the United States of America, Australia, the Philippines, New Zealand, Estonia, Chile, Sweden, Canada, and the United Kingdom, found that 56 global companies are responsible for more than half of all branded plastic pollution. The Coca-Cola Company was responsible for 11% of branded waste, followed by PepsiCo (5%), Nestlé (3%), Danone (3%), and Altria/Philip Morris International (2%). The top companies identified produce food, beverage, or tobacco products.
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kriffingstars · 9 months
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Johnny MacTavish; if i were a worm
pairing: Johnny MacTavish x Price!Reader summary: Would you still love me if I was a worm? warnings: verrrrrry slight age gap (I imagine reader to be around 20, Johnny is 26) a/n: right here we go, new part! follow up to found out will be up next. i’ve been working on it for a few weeks. i’ll be releasing it christmas day, new zealand time. please, please send me some fluffy asks about this fic, I need some drabbles to lighten up the angst I’ve been writing.
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“Hey, Sweets?”
You’re lying on Johnny’s sofa, when he moves his body so he’s looking straight up at you, head still in your lap.
You mumble a yes, as your hands still continue to card through his freshly cut mohawk. The two of you had spent the morning messing around in his bathroom, as he instructed you very carefully how to use the clippers.
His blue eyes study your face, as he blurts out, “Would you still love me if I was a worm?”
“Hmm,” is all you give him, as a smile creeps onto your face. You can tell by the way he narrows his eyes at your non-immediate reaction, that’s he’s expecting you to answer with a firm yes.
His smile drops slightly when you make a face, looking slightly disgusted at the thought of worm-Johnny.
“Worms are a good source of protein right?”
Hook. Line. Sinker.
Johnny’s moving faster than you’ve ever seen him, and positions himself opposite you. It’s a bit of a sight. He’s flushed and spluttering as he’s trying to put a sentence together, and his hair is sticking up at all angles.
“You’d eat me?!”
As nonchalantly as you can muster you say, “I mean maybe. Could fry you in some butter and garlic, or deep fry you. That seems a bit more on brand.”
“Yer can’t eat me!” his brows furrow, and his shoulders tense even more as his discontent becomes even more obvious.
Johnny’s a lot of things, but one of the things he’s not, is good at telling when you’re winding him up. He does it constantly to you, and you fall for it most of the time. You’ve also become accustomed to the familiar glint in Johnny’s eye when you know he’s done something. It’s a very similar look that’s in you eyes as your boyfriend throws a fit over you potentially eating hypothetical-worm-Johnny.
“Well you’d be a worm, darling. I couldn’t do much for you, and the cat would probably eat you. At least you’d be in my stomach!”
With a deep breath he claps his hands together, bringing his fingertips up to his lips, and releases the air trying to comprehend what you’ve just said and how you’re trying to justify it.
“Yer meant to say that you’d still love me and you’d build me a little home in one of those glass pot things and I can live on your desk. Not that you’re going to turn me into scran.”
With that last outburst he’s jumping off the sofa, as you hide your glee behind your palm that is currently, firmly pressed to your mouth. You didn’t even need to hide it from Johnny at this point, he was long gone.
After about five minutes you could still hear him clanging in the kitchen, muttering about how well he’d treat you as a worm. You’re trying so incredibly hard to focus on the book you were reading before Johnny joined you on the sofa, intent on distracting you, and keeping him company.
At least payback was amusing. Hopefully he’ll be over it soon enough. Turns out soon enough isn’t now because he’s poking his head back into the living room, firmly set on continuing the conversation.
“You know you should cherish me, even in worm form.”
Looking up from your book you meet your boyfriend’s gaze. He’s certainly calmed down a bit but non the less, annoyed that you haven’t answered his hypothetical question in the loving and tender way he wanted you to.
“Fine, I’ll put you in the terrarium, but I’m giving you back to your mum for Christmas.”
Obviously engaging in the conversation causes Johnny to enter the room completely, hands on hips, ready for another play argument.
You’re not sure what about this conversation but the man in front of you seems to be enjoying this just as much as you are. Despite his displeasure at your ‘in-caring’ words to worm-Johnny.
“Okay, but you’ve got to tell Mam that it’s me because she’ll leave me to fend for myself in the garden.”
Finally finding the conversation coming to the end of its course. You can’t help but take the perfect opportunity to get under his skin once again.
You smile, wait a moment and then peak over the top of your book.
“If your Mum loved you as much as you say she does, she’d recognise you even as a worm.”
What you didn’t expect was Johnny to have had enough of you pulling his leg and scooping you up over his shoulder, as he run through the flat. Socks skidding slightly on the hard wood floor as he rounds the corner, and dropping you unceremoniously onto his bed.
You’re both red in the face now, as you fall into each other, still laughing, before you cup his cheek gently pulling his gaze up to you. Faces inches apart.
“I would love you in any form, I’d just prefer it if I could do this,”
His lips are warm, and the stubble on his cheeks is prickly as you cup your hands around his face. This is the kind of Johnny you try to remember when he’s off on deployment.
Happy, carefree, and completely in love.
Taglist: (please let me know if you’d like to be added, all requests from my taglist will get priority)
@cassiecasluciluce @misshoneypaper @unknownduck0 @iwannabealocalcryptid@darkangel4121 @clear-your-mind-and-dream @mothiing @pepsicolacoochie@samanthamarkle92 @fullmoon-94 @poohkiee90 @calabeebee
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theworldofotps · 8 months
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I Like You (Drabble)
Pairing: Hook x Reader Word Counter: 1,029 Prompt: ❛ i like you. a lot. like a lot, a lot. ❜ ❛ you’re important to me, you piece of shit. ❜ ❛ it terrifies me what i would do for you. ❜
@omg-im-such-a-masochist here's your prompt my love I hope it's close to what you were imagining! ________ Tag list: @omg-im-such-a-masochist @melissahausen​ @new-zealand-chic​ @writtingrose​ @99hook @sjwrites22​ @sassymox​ @mrsacklesevansmgk @xladyxfatex​ @adamcolesbaybay @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch​ @demonqueen29​ @itsicantbelievethis666​ @lilred91​ @rebellious-desires​ @claymorexpunisher @letsgivethisonemoreshot @ava-valerie @shortyiceheart​ @serpantscorpio8497​ @thatpanpal​ @thatnerdwriter @wrestlersownmyheart​ @vebner37​ @auburnwrites @aews-four-pillars​ @seeingstarks​ @whenimakeitshine1234​ @legit9thlunaticwarrior @blaquekitty​ @ironshamelessyouth​ @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin​ @ripleyswhore @moonrosekk @xbreezymeadowsx @elevennbloom @melblacc @alliwant456  @mcreignsera
If you wanna be added to the list lemme know ________ “Did you hear?”
“What?”
Y/n asks looking up from her phone after her friend Anthony sat down beside her on one of the work crates.
“Hook has a date with one of the new intern girls and I’m not sure if it’s such a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“Because she was recommended to the company by Jericho, and you know he’s always trying to get some dirt on someone. I know you’re supposed to ask people questions when you try and get to know them, but her questions are intense.”
“Well, have you said anything to him about it?”
“You know he won’t listen to any of us that’s why the lads asked me if I would talk to you about it because maybe he would listen to you. After all you are one of the closet people to him apart from his dad.”
“So, in other words you want me to do your dirty work for you?”
She smiled watching as Anthony rubbed his cheek looking around the room before sitting down in the chair beside her.
“We tried to talk to him about it but he wouldn’t even give us the time of day about it just his usual fucking grunt and a blank stare. We just don’t want him to get hurt is all or have this woman fuck around with his feelings.”
“Have any of you bothered talking to the girl I mean the only thing you’ve said is her questions are kind of weird. That doesn’t mean she’s going to fuck Tyler over you can’t assume all woman interested in him are going to be bad.”
“You’re acting like I don’t know that you have feelings for him.”
“Shut up!”
Y/n hissed looking around to be sure that nobody overheard Anthony’s big mouth before turning her gaze back to him.
“Nobody else needs to know that least of all him, I’ll talk to him but I’m not going to just assume she’s after him for bad reasons.”
“Thanks, you’re the best text me how it goes.”
“Yeah yeah I will.”
Standing up Y/n throws her trash away than turns heading out the doors she figured that if Tyler wasn’t warming up somewhere; he was bound to be lurking around the hallways listening to his music. Walking around for a few minutes she pulled her phone out sending him a text.
‘Where are you?’
‘My dad’s locker room’
‘Can I come talk with you?’
‘Yep’
Pocketing her phone, she makes her way through halls and soon arrived in front of the door, giving a light knock she waited.
“Come on in y/n.”
“Hey thanks for giving me a few minutes to chat with you.”
She smiled poking her head in the door and closed it behind her after stepping inside, leaning against the door she watched as he moved around the room. Then patted the couch cushion beside him, y/n walked over sitting down and stretched her legs out.
“What’s up?”
“So, Anthony told me you had a date with one of the new interns.”
“Yep, I’m going out with her tomorrow night, he was trying to give me some hassle earlier, but I just ignored him.”
Tyler pushed the hair out of his eyes adjusting his hoodie then looked over at her.
“Is that why you’re here to give me some trouble?”
“No, I just wanted to come talk to you because he’s worried about you all the lads are and since you won’t hear him out. Anthony is hoping that you’ll at least be willing to hear me out about it although lord knows you don’t always listen to me when you should.”
“You guys are always on my ass when I’m planning on going out with someone, I know what I’m doing I’m not a child.”
“Nobody said you were, but your friends are concerned so the least you could do is at least hear them out a little. Anthony said that the woman was asking some weird ass questions and he’s just worried about you.”
“Look it’s fine I can handle myself y/n I don’t need to be looked after, beside you don’t see me jumping every time someone asks you out. So why can’t you just let me do my thing.”
Looking at him surprised by his sudden change in tone y/n’s eyes narrowed slightly as she huffed at him.
“Because you’re important to me you piece of shit.”
Y/n snapped as she stood up off the couch and started pacing back and forth.
“We care about you and we don’t want you getting hurt we care about you.”
“I know you do but it’s not a big deal, there’s no need to get so bent out of shape.”
“Oh my gods you really are dense I like you. a lot. like a lot a lot. And I just want to be sure you aren’t going to get hurt by anyone. I couldn’t stand the idea of you getting hurt by someone you may be emotionally invested in. It’s terrifies me what I would do for you, just please let us do what we need to try and keep you safe.”
Y/n ranted but stopped when he stared at her his eyes wide at her confession.
“You like me?”
“That’s what I just told you, now you go ahead and go on your date but at least hear Anthony out he’s one of your best friends.”
Tyler quickly got off the couch grabbing her arm when she turns to leave, she hadn’t meant to embarrass herself like that in front of him.
“So should I pick you up around seven?”
“What?”
“Anthony may have let it slip that you had feelings for me and so we cooked this up to see if you’d actually admit it.”
Tyler smirked pulling y/n against his chest and held her hips as she stared at him in shock as she tried to comprehend what he was saying.
“That little fucker.”
“So, is that a yes?”
“Mm just let me know how I need to dress, and I’ll see you then.”
Y/n smiled wrapping her arms around him their lips meeting in a soft kiss.
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me-loving-woso · 10 months
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Rebuilding the Family aka Monthly visits Part 4
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Hey! Okay, I know I have been MIA for more than two months, BUT you have to be proud of me because I finished another part of Monthly visits AND started part 2 of Bruises Apologies and Cookies. This is Part 4 of Monthly visits I hope you enjoy. It's not proofread but I wanted to give y'all something. These are the previous Chapters: Monthly visits, Meeting the Family, The Aftermath
“Alexia?” Your hand dropped from the door knob to your side. You were definitely surprised to see her.
“Hi.” She greets you shyly, so timidly that you can’t recognize her voice. You cross your arms, waiting for her to continue. “Is it a bad time? Should I come some other time? I can totally come tomorrow, maybe at a more decent time. I should go-“
“Alexia, slow down. You are rambling. Do you want to come in? This is your house too, and you might miss Nala.” You offer her. She gave you a shy smile and entered her home.
“I missed it here. The hotel room sucked.” She says tiredly, yawning. You could see from her face that she hadn’t slept much. You figured that she has probably been on the plane or in an airport these past two days.
“How long have you been awake?” You ask her worriedly while she kneels on the floor, reuniting with her dog after so much. 
She looks at her watch, which her father used to wear, “52 hours now.” She says, looking at you. “I missed you so much, Y/n. I’m really sorry about all of it. I know I have much explaining to do, and you probably have much, if not more, to say to me. But the last two days have been pretty intense. And I really need a hug, please.” She looks at you, nearly begging for it, with glassy eyes.
“Come here.” She puts down the little dog and almost runs towards you, putting her arms on your neck, trying to keep you as close as possible for at least a minute. 
“I’m really sorry. Do you hate me now?”
You remove her from your embrace, cupping her face. “I could never hate you, okay? Now, we have many things to discuss, and you, woman, you have a lot of making up to do. And not the sex type, okay?” You whisper, not wanting to wake up the kids. She puts her hands on top of yours and nods, pulling your foreheads together.
Then you push her, maybe a little too harshly, making her look at you extremely confused. “And this is because you went MIA for two days after storming out of a match. Power move, by the way. But you made me extremely worried. I nearly booked a flight to New Zealand because of you.” You point your finger at her.
“My phone died just before I went to the airport. I’m sorry if I worried you.” She apologizes, looking at the floor.
“I’ll text your mom, sister, and our teammates that you are safe, here with me.” She nods, yawning again.
“Alexia, you should go to sleep. You are exhausted.”
“But we have to talk; I need to make it right. I need-“She pleads.
“No buts. Now you go to sleep; tomorrow, when you are more rested, we will talk about everything, okay?”
“Okay, I’ll go to the hotel down the street and call you tomorrow?” She asks, hopeful. 
“Have you already booked the room?”
“What?”
“Have you already booked the room at the hotel?”
“No, I didn’t. Hopefully, they have a spare room for me.” She says, scratching her eyes, making you smile at her cuteness. You always loved it when she was tired. She was less composed and in control and more herself.
“Stay here.” You say earnestly. “I bet you miss your bed and old clothes; I just cleaned your favorite shirt, which you wear only on special occasions. Plus, this is your house, too. You shouldn’t sleep in a hotel.”
“Only if you are okay with it. And the kids, of course. How are they, by the way?”
“They are great; Ava misses you a lot.”
“Lucia?” 
“She’s a little mad that you left me and didn’t say goodbye to them. She’s just very protective, but she’ll come around. We’ll talk more about it later. Now go to sleep, Ale.”
She goes up the stairs but stops midway, “Aren’t you coming?”
“Do you want some company while you get ready to bed?” You joke.
“Always.” She smiles, making you go into the bedroom with her. While she goes in the shower, you sit on the edge of the bed, texting everyone that Alexia is here with you and there is nothing to worry about.
As soon as she leaves the bathroom, you see her with half-dried hair, only with some shorts and her shirt on. She goes on the edge of her part of the bed and gets inside the sheets, making you turn your body to look at her.
“Goodnight Alexia.” You stand up, not knowing what to do; it was the second time you didn’t sleep on the same bed, the first time being when you stole the keys to the pitch.
“Wait, where are you sleeping?”
“On the couch with Nala.”
“But I thought-“
“I can’t sleep with you, Alexia; we need to discuss what happened with Vilda and us. I’m still mad and hurt. So tomorrow, the kids will probably be out all morning, so that is when we’ll talk if that’s what you want.”
“That’s all I want.”
“Then it’s settled. Goodnight.” 
“Night.” You give her a last look, and then you go downstairs. 
-
The following day, you wake up early with an ache from sleeping on the couch all over your body. The first thing you do is to silently check on Alexia; you find her still sleeping, hugging your pillow. You leave her a note saying that you will be going soon and coming back in approximately an hour.
You bring Ava to Nico, who offered to take Ava out after yesterday’s casual visit from Alexia so that you could talk properly with her. Meanwhile, Lucia would be going to the pitch again because she wanted to start the season with Barcelona B prepared and in shape. You admired her dedication, even though you told her it was unnecessary. 
As soon as you got home, past 10 am, you found Alexia with a cup of coffee in her hand while she was scrolling through some news on her tablet; this felt very familiar, making you not know how to feel. This thought was soon interrupted by Nala, who ran to you, waiting for cuddles; this made Alexia turn around to you and smile.
“Good Morning.”
“Good Morning to you, too.” You picked up the dog and gave her some food, then went to the kitchen, putting the car keys on the countertop.
“If you want, there is some coffee left.” She informs you while you rummage through your cabinets, trying to find a mug. 
“I really missed your coffee.” You say, looking at her, sitting down in front of her, “You can’t cook for shit, but you always know how to make great coffee.”
“I can cook!” She says, offended.
“We both know that you can cook only two dishes.” You chuckle.
“Okay, that’s true.” She agrees, chuckling, then turning the conversation into a very awkward silence.
Both of you hated confrontation, so this was going to be interesting. You knew that you had to talk, or else you could risk losing each other, which neither of you was looking forward to, but simultaneously, you didn’t want to have any uncomfortable conversations.
“Y/-“
“Alex-“You both say at the same time, stopping, trying to make the other speak. This was going to be complicated.
“You go.” You offer.
“Okay.” She takes a deep breath. “I just wanted to apologize for everything. I’m so sorry. What I did was shitty and cowardly.” She says, keeping her face as open as possible.
“You just did what you felt was right at that moment. I mean, the timing was a little bad. Really bad. But you did what you thought was right.”
“I realized something while I was away.” 
“What?”
“I remember that some time ago, a really bad interviewer asked me who did I play for. Initially, I didn’t reply because I thought it was a weird question to ask, which completely discredits my career. But when I came home, I thought about it and realized I didn’t know. I know that when my dad died, I played for him and dedicated everything to him, and I still do. But somewhere along the way, I realized I don’t know anymore. Since I won the Ballon d’Or, everybody wanted to talk to me and wanted me to perform and play in a certain way. Still, after returning from my ACL, the expectations were even higher. How was I supposed to play freely when everybody wanted me to play another way? In all honesty, I was in some way jealous of you. You didn’t change, and if someone pressured you, you would tell them to fuck off or wouldn’t listen to them. What really grounded me was that I could come back home to you, and everything was normal and good. You gave me stability in my hectic life. And when we got the kids, I-“
“So now it’s the kids’ fault? Don’t blame it on them or me, okay?” You say a little defensively. “I gave you a choice and gave you an out many times, and you signed the fucking custody papers with me, so don’t tell me that you weren’t given any choice or some other excuse.” You cross your arms, waiting for her to speak up, while she sighs defeated.
“It’s not that, Y/n; I always wanted to have kids, you know that. I always knew that I wanted kids with you, and I don’t blame it on the kids or you. I only blame it on myself. Okay? I feel like shit; I swore to you that I would never leave you.”
“No, you don’t get it, you made me feel like I was back again with my parents, and they told me to fuck off and to never show up again and gave me no explanation. I felt like I did something wrong. I have been dying inside since you left me, trying to understand why. It felt like you took me for granted.” You say vulnerably, trying to keep your emotions at bay, something the person in front of you was failing.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so selfish. I-I didn’t think about that.” She says now, wiping her tears away from her eyes. You always hated it when she cried. “I’m such an idiot. I know I fucked up Y/n. I was trying to say that I realized that my family is the only people I have to care about and be accountable for my actions. And you are my family. You and the kids. And I’m really sorry that I haven’t figured it out sooner. But I’ll do whatever it takes to make you believe that and trust me again.”
“Took you long enough.” You chuckle wetly, her little speech making you emotional; nobody has ever told you that you were their family or part of one.
“Please tell me that is not too late.” She asks pleading.
“That is up to you.” You say earnestly. “My priority now is the kids. And I need you to show me that I will be one of your priorities and that I’m not taken for granted, and what you did won’t happen again because I don’t think I could survive that.”
“I’ll do anything. I’ll leave football if you want me to. You are too important and the only thing that matters.” She says desperately, but you could see that she wasn’t lying, and that was all that you needed to hear. 
“Okay, maybe nothing that extreme. But you’ll have to make it up to me properly.” You give her a playful smirk. “You can start by taking me on a date. I want to be wooed and be given flowers. If you want me, you’ll have to start again from the beginning. Clean slate. And this doesn’t mean that everything is forgotten.”
She smiled shyly, nodding, but you could see she was happy you had given her a second chance. “Let’s see if you still have some game after nearly four years.” You tease her, winking.
“Oh, I definitely do.” She says confidently, making you shake your head in awe.
“Now, come here. I missed you, Amorcito.” You say not containing yourself anymore. You were glad that you managed to clear the air with Alexia. Even though you knew that it wouldn’t be like before, you were taking those steps in the right direction. “You made me worry so much during the match.” You say while she rounds the table and sits on your lap. You hug her sides and put your head on her chest. “Are you okay?”
“Yes, I am.” She kisses you on the top of your head, bringing you closer.
“Are you sure?” You whisper.
“Yes.”
“Can you tell me what happened?” 
“Let’s get on the couch first.” She stands up, takes your hand, and leads you to the living room. She sat between your legs and began telling you what happened during the World Cup. How Jorge was always trying to blame the team if his ideas weren’t working, and how he would always target Alexia, making little comments about how since she broke her ACL, she wasn’t playing the same, and that if it weren’t for her popularity, he wouldn’t have even put her on the roster. To ‘punish’ her, he stripped her of her role as team captain, stating that her leadership wasn’t needed.
“I totally disagree with that,” you say, getting angrier as she continues talking.
“I didn’t know what to think anymore, and I started believing in what he was saying. We were underperforming, and for him, I was the one to blame, even though we were in eleven to play in a match.”
Then she explained to you what happened in the match against the USA. The morale in the squad was already low, and in all that, he began guilt-tripping the players.
“As soon as the final whistle blew, everyone was sad, but I felt relieved; I finally didn’t have to endure that anymore. I went to drink some water, and he snatched the bottle from me; I think he told me I didn’t deserve to drink because I disappointed the whole nation, and I laughed at his face. He grabbed my arm, and he began insulting me and telling me every little thing I did wrong. Then Ona and Aitana approached us and tried to understand what was happening. I didn’t want them to be involved or that Jorge would begin releasing his anger on them, so I tried to push them away, but they wouldn’t budge.”
“They tried to protect you.” You explain, stating the obvious.
“I know, but unintentionally, they made it worse. He started getting personal, telling me nobody cared about me and that if you cared about me, you would’ve been here. And that nobody gives a shit about me, if not for my status. I laughed at him and walked out.” She says without displaying any emotions whatsoever.
“He’s such an asshole. You don’t have to believe him a bit. You are a great player and a great person. Nobody should ever doubt that, okay?”
She nods, still with some uncertainty in her eyes. You take her face in your hands and make her look at you. “Okay?” You say emphatically.
“Okay.” She smiles at you, then sinks into your embrace, trying to find comfort.
“So, how are the kids?” You smile at her question and begin to tell her everything that happened. How they met some of your teammates, Mapi, and especially what Lucia had told everybody.
“And then she told Paños, Patri, and Claudia that I was a better mom this month than her real mother had been in sixteen years. And I don’t know Alexia, but I felt like what I did, what we did for them, was worth all of it, from the social workers to building a bedroom from our closet. I felt so happy. And you know, it gave me the hope that maybe I can be a good mom for them.” You say hopefully, feeling a little embarrassed. You hide your face in the crook of her neck.
“Of course, you are a great mom and don’t have to be ashamed. Carry it with pride.” She says to you proudly, caressing your cheek. “I hope that someday I could be that for them too.”
“You will. Kids love you.” You say earnestly. “Oh, and by the way, I think Lucia might have a secret boyfriend.”
“Wait, what?” She removes herself from your embrace and sits with her legs crossed on the couch before you, grinning curiously.
“She always goes to bed early, never wants me to train with her at the pitch, always hides her phone notifications from me, even though I never look at her phone screen, and she seems happier.”
“But how?”
“I genuinely don’t know. Or maybe she’s tired of me and doesn’t want me around for training. Those are the two options. I genuinely don’t know which one to hope for.” She chuckles.
“Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad. You were sixteen too once.”
“Oh, shut up; you know I didn’t do relationships when I was younger. If it’s actually true, though, I think I will have a mental breakdown.”
“You are so dramatic. By the way, I love this worried mom look that you have on right now.” She pokes your sides while you blush.
“You’ll have to deal with him.” You say, pointing your finger at her.
“Okay, I will, just for you.” She chuckles. “I really missed this. It’s good to be home.” She says seriously, taking your hands.
“Take me on a date first, woman!” You give a gentle slap to her hands and put them on your sides.
“I will. I will pull all of my tricks. Open the car door for you, get you flowers, and walk you to your door.”
“So cliché.” You roll your eyes.
“Don’t act as if you don’t like it.” She teases you. 
You talked until it was time to get the girls home. It was good to finally have her back. You missed talking and laughing with her so much. You finally felt normal, full. And even though you both knew that there was still some making up to do and that it was best not to go back immediately to your old relationship, this start made you hopeful.
“Ale, I have to go now.” You say, smiling, while she tightens your embrace around your sides, not making you leave.
“No! I just have you back! I don’t want you to leave.” She says pouting.
“You are talking like you haven’t seen me in ten years.” You chuckle. “It has only been a month!”
“But it has been a very long month!” She says pouting.
“You have to go to your mom and sister; they were worried sick about you. And I have to pick up the kids.”
“Okay, but tomorrow I’ll pick you up for our date.”
“Oh wow, aren’t we confident?” “What if I am not available tomorrow? I might have something else to do.” You tease her.
“Like what?” She grins.
“I might have another date to go to. You know, I am a very highly wanted woman.” You joke.
She frowns, looking at you, crossing her arms. “No, you don’t! Right?” She asks you insecurely. 
“No, I don’t.” You chuckle while standing up from the couch, wanting to get ready.
“When will I see the kids?” She asks shyly.
“Whenever you want to. But if it’s okay with you, I’d like to wait after our date.”
“I’m okay with whatever you want.”
“I have to go now.” You say, walking to her and stopping a meter away from her.
“So tomorrow?”
“I’ll let you know.” You give her a wink. “Goodbye Ale. You can go whenever you are ready. I’ll see you soon.”
When both the girls are in the car, you explain to them that Alexia will be back. She won’t live in the same house as you now, but she’ll still come around. Ava was thrilled to hear that; you knew she missed Ale a lot, whereas Lucia would scoff or roll her eyes whenever you talked about Alexia. You first noticed this at the beginning of the World Cup, and you didn’t know whether to confront her about it or ignore it. 
After you told Mapi about everything with Alexia the next day, she offered to stay over to watch Ava, as Lucia didn’t need much to be taken care of.
It was 5pm, and you were a little nervous. She didn’t tell you where you would go, so you didn’t know how to dress or what to expect.Thankfully she sent you a text.
‘We are going somewhere to eat. I know that you are probably freaking out because you don’t know where we are going or how to dress. Dress comfy and casual. I know that you hate dressing up.’
You chuckled at the fact that she seemed to be reading your thoughts. 
You decided to go for some shorts and a top, and in the meantime, while you waited, you went downstairs. You had the house all by yourself, which meant that you could do anything you wanted, with nobody judging, that is, working on the 1000-piece puzzle that you and the girls decided to start three days ago.
You were shit at puzzling. You knew that. The girls knew that. Everybody knew that. But stubborn as you are, you decided to prove everyone wrong.
Thank god that your attempt to puzzle was stopped by a car parking and your doorbell. You open the door and find Alexia with flowers hiding her smile.
“Hello.” She says shyly, giving you the flowers; you find her so adorable that you almost cannot keep yourself from kissing her. She gives you the flowers.
“Thank you.” You make her come inside your home and put them in a vase with water, not wanting to ruin them. “So where are we going?”
“Patience.” She chuckles at your excitement.
“Ugh. I hate surprises.”
“No, you love them, but you hate being at the center of the attention or not being in control.”
“Stop it. I hate that you know me too well.” 
“After three years of relationship, it would be weird if I didn’t.”
You smile, agreeing, then ask her, “Do you want to take Nala?”
“It’s better if we don’t; we are going in an indoor place. We can leave her to my mom’s house.” 
As you left your house, you went to Alexia’s car; she opened the door for you and closed it, then hopped in and began driving.
She had both hands on the steering wheel, which was something new, as she would always take your hand or put it on your thigh. She watched the road when you took her hand, making her snap out of her trance and look at you. You put both hands on your thigh, making her smile at your action, then resuming looking at the road. Her hand never left yours, and you got it back when the night ended.
As you saw the car turning right to a pub, you squealed happily. “No, you didn’t!”
“I did.” She replies, wearing a proud smile.
“We haven’t been here in so long!” You add, hugging her arm.
“I know! We should’ve come here more often. That is why I decided to bring you here. This place means so much to us.”
You remember going to this pub for the first time after your first date with Alexia. It was a beach day trip; you had brought food, playing cards, and books. It was a beautiful date; you loved going to the beach and going together made it a plus. What you didn’t expect was the rain. You had planned to stay there also for dinner, but the weather made other plans, so you both ran to your car laughing, and after a while of wandering around the streets, you found this pub. It was old and broke many hygiene standards, but you didn’t care. You were hungry and wanted a place to stay for when the rain would stop. What actually made you fall in love with the place wasn’t the fact that the owners were crazy as fuck or that there was a pool table available. It was their impromptu karaoke/stand-up comedy nights.
The first time you went there, there was this guy you didn’t even know the name of who would sing or tell jokes while nobody was listening. He was bad. Like really bad. He would sing the most complicated songs: Amy Winehouse, Beyoncé, Celine Dion, all of them. On your date with Alexia, as soon as you heard him sing for the first time, your hope for a nice, quiet evening was thrown away. His bad singing skills caught you so off guard that you nearly spit all your drink on Alexia, choking on your drink, throwing a fit of coughs, making you go to the bathroom. Thank god he didn’t see you. 
As soon as you got back to the table, you both burst out laughing and decided to invent a story around his persona: he had a really weird 80s-style haircut, so you named him John Travolta, but since he was Spanish, his name was Juan Travolta. He was a very important accountant for many big companies but burnt out all his money on pony races and dog beauty contests. Leaving him with crushing debts, he decided to live off his wild passion: entertain others. After his fantastic performance of ‘My Heart Will Go On’, he began ‘the second part of the night’, as he claimed. Which was stand-up comedy/improv. For the few people in the pub, you and Alexia were the only ones listening, too curious not to do that. It was your second drink, and you found it hard to not stop yourself from laughing at the absurdity of all of it; while Alexia was giving you kicks under the table, trying to make you stop, it only made it worse.
Somehow, his comedy was even worse than his singing. He would try to make some jokes, but they never landed. Once, he even tried to memorize the monologue of a famous comedian, but that still didn’t do the trick. You figured he wasn’t cut out to be a comedian or a singer, but you appreciated his resilience and confidence. You wish that you had his confidence.
Since that first time at the pub, it had become yours and Alexia’s place. You would go there for date nights, when you wanted to have a laugh or when you wanted to be left alone. And even though the entertainment was shitty, the food was borderline poisonous, and the drinks were questionable, it had become a tradition for the both of you to go there whenever you went on a beach trip. It wasn’t the greatest place, but it was your place, and the memories you made there were ones you would cherish for the rest of your life. There, Alexia asked you to be her girlfriend, and you asked her to move in with you. It was a special place for your relationship with her, so Alexia knew what she did when she brought you there for your date. 
“Wait. Do you know if Juan Travolta still performs here?” You grin excitedly.
“I guess we’ll find out.” 
Alexia parks the car, and you don’t even wait for her to open the door for you, so you exit the car almost immediately. You quickly took her hand and dragged her inside. The place was exactly the same as it was the last time. Squicky floor, the same weird old owner behind the bar, and there he was. Juan. You smile excitedly, turning to Alexia, who rolls her eyes happily. Then you both sit at your usual table. You ordered some drinks and something to eat. While you waited for your order, you listened to Juan, who you thought was improving, shocking the both of you. Still, then he tried to make a high-pitched voice for a part of a song, and you realized that he was just as bad as you remembered him to be.
“I want him to sing at my wedding.” You say, clearly forgetting you were talking to the person you probably would marry.
“We are not making him perform at our wedding.” She says sternly.
“Our wedding?” You tease her, making her slightly blush.
“Yes, our wedding.” She says confidently.
“Where’s the ring, then?” You chuckle.
“Patience.” She remarks, making your heart flutter.
“If it’s not Juan, you would probably want Rosalia at our wedding; you are obsessed with her.”
“I am not.”
“Oh, you do. And what is more concerning is that she would probably say yes, she loves you.” You add. “But Juan Travolta, for me, is still my first choice.” 
It was good to be back with Alexia; you hadn’t had a date night in so long, and you finally felt normal again with her by your side. There were just some people that whenever you are with them, it just feels right. Like they are a small part of you. And even when you want to be alone with your thoughts, you don’t care if they are there because they belong with you. And that person was for you, Alexia. And in the same place you were in that very moment, a year before you realized that she was the only one it was worth spending your life with, and after that, you continuously left a piece of your heart for her to encompass and make it hers.
As soon as you finished eating, you both decided to have a shot at the pool table. Juan had just finished singing and now told some really bad and pathetic jokes. 
“So, are we placing any bets?” You grin competitively.
“We can do that if you want.” She says, rounding the pool table and putting all the balls in the triangle.
“If I win, which I will, I want you to make me coffee for two weeks.”
“I can bring you coffee every day, but if I win, which I will, you’ll have to give me a back massage.”
“I can be okay with that. You know that I’m low-key obsessed with your back and all of your tattoos. It won’t be a problem.”
“And dye your hair purple.” She chuckles.
“Oh hell nah.”
“So you are walking out on the bet?” She asks competitively.
“Never. You’ll just have to lose. Simple as that.” 
The competition was on. The pool table was isolated from the rest of the pub, meaning you could cheat a little. Your plan was to distract Alexia. A very challenging plan. Your captain had a mind and focus of steel.
It was your turn now, and Alexia was wearing her usual cocky smirk that would infuriate you at how good-looking it was. Fortunately for you, you were able to make two balls enter the hole, but then you missed. It was Alexia’s turn now. You were down one ball, but not for long. You casually walked towards her and saw her bend on the pool table, trying to take aim. You took your chance. You put your hand on her lower back under her shirt, and then you lean in, whispering in her ear. “If I remember correctly, you always loved bending like this for me, but you always had fewer clothes on than now.” You smirk, leaving a kiss behind her ear.
“Y/n.” She cautioned you reprimanding.
“What? I am just stating a fact. Come on, do your shot.” You smirk, leaving her a little flustered. She takes in a deep breath, but then you put your hand on her side, slowly going down. She took aim again, but she missed the shot, making you give her a mischievous smirk. Both of your competitive natures were about to arise, and that meant that Alexia would be playing dirty, too.
“I thought you had a nerve of steel, capitana.” You remark, making her look at you slightly annoyed.
“You started something, Y/n; I’m going to end it.” 
It was your turn now, and you were hoping that Alexia wouldn’t be doing something that would make you not focus. You were ready to take aim when she basically put her whole front to your back, putting her hands inside your t-shirt and slowly massaging right under your breasts, “You are wearing this little top; that is making me crazy. So much skin to touch, I don’t know where to put my hands.”
She whispers, making your brain completely numb and very hazy. She smirked at your reaction, then quickly moved away from you, leaning on the pool table to your left, “Now, come on. Do your shot.” She repeats the same thing that you said before. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, trying to take her out of your mind, but it is too late; the 8 ball goes in, and you lose the game. She wins. 
“Fuck.” She chuckles, making a little bow and making you roll your eyes. 
“You’ll get ’em next time.” She teases.
“I can’t even say that you cheated because I did it before you.” You hunch your back, defeated. “So purple?” you add.
“Yep. And a back massage.”
“No coffee?”
“Since I am a wonderful person and I am the bigger person, I can still bring you coffee. I would hate to see you sad that you lost your bet.” She says, trying to conceal a smile, “You poor loser.” She says while caressing your head, giving you some comfort. You slap her hand away from you, “I might be a sore loser, but you, Alexia Putellas, you are an asshole.”
“Well, this asshole is better than you at pool.”
“I want a rematch.”
“Maybe next time. It’s getting late.” The night was going so well that you totally forgot about the time. It was 10pm, and you promised Ava to be there for bedtime.
-
So you quickly exited the pub and went in the car. Without hesitation, Alexia put her hand on your thigh and drove. In the car, you began reminiscing about the places you went together and gossiped about your neighbors. 
As soon as you got home, she walked you to the door and waited hesitatingly. “So you want to come in to say hi to the kids? They’ll love to see you.” You offer.
“Are you sure?” She smiles, hoping for a positive response.
“Come inside.” You take her by the hand and go inside your house with her. In the living room, you saw Mapi exhausted on the couch while Ava was sleeping with her head on her lap, and Lucia was nowhere to be found.
As soon as you went inside the living room, Mapi turned to see you, then she gently moved Ava and went to greet you. You went into the kitchen to not make noise. There, Mapi slaps Alexia on the shoulder, making her recoil.
“What was this for?” She whispers, annoyed.
Your best friend points the finger at her. “This. It’s for going MIA for two days without saying anything AND leaving Y/n. What were you thinking?” She pushes Alexia’s head with her fingers.
“Maria.” You look at her sternly.
“I’m sorry, Mapi, for everything. I was in a really weird place mentally, but now I’m good.” You could see that she was a little more convinced. “Can I have a hug? I haven’t seen you in a while now!” The two friends hugged and then began to catch up. After a while, your friend said goodbye and left, not without thanking her for what she did. 
“I’m taking Ava to bed. Do you want to come with me?”
She slowly nods at your offer, and you both go to your living room. Lucia was still outside, which made you and Alexia share puzzled looks with each other.
You wake up Ava and tell her it’s time to bed. She slowly opened her eyelids and looked around, blinking twice when she saw Alexia.
“Alexia!” She says excitedly, still very sleepy.
“Hi, mi nena, let’s go to bed, it’s very late.” She says, smiling, caressing her cheek. She makes grabby hands for the older woman to pick her up, which she gladly does, always wearing her biggest smile; she probably missed the girls very much. 
She picks her up and takes her to her bed. She then tucks the bed sheets, and you hear them converse.
“Go to sleep, Ava.” She says, looking at her like she is the world’s most precious thing.
“Will you come tomorrow?”
“Yes, I will. I’ll come whenever you want me to. Now go to sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Good night.”
“Good night.”
She exits her room and closes it, walking towards you.
“She really missed you.” You say to her while she hugs you on the side.
“I missed her too. But where is the other one? Is she still on the phone?” 
“No, she just ended it; I’ll go to her.” You go outside, and you call out her name. 
“Lucia?” You ask while she is still looking at her phone. 
She jumps at your voice, nearly throwing her phone.
“Oh hey, Y/n!” She says as if she were caught red-handed.
“Do you want to come in inside? It’s getting cold.” You offer her. 
“Okay.” She comes inside, gives an awkward wave at Alexia, and then goes to her room, saying goodnight to you before closing the door.
You turn around to Alexia, “She is definitely hiding something.”
“So for tomorrow.” She had her hands behind her back. She had this cute little habit when she was shying away from asking permission for something. You took her hands from behind her back and laced them with yours. 
“Why are you getting so shy all of a sudden?” You chuckle, making her blush.
“I told Ava that I would be coming over tomorrow morning because she wouldn’t sleep if not. So, I was trying to ask you if I could come over?”
“Of course you can. You have to make me coffee.” You remark as if it was the most obvious thing. 
“Then I should get going.” She says awkwardly, clearly not wanting to leave.
“You can always stay over for the night.” You push her more towards you, leaving only a few centimeters. “I really enjoyed the date. We went to our place, we played pool, and tomorrow morning, you have to be here, so why not?” You offer. She begins giving you kisses all over your face, minus the lips, on the cheeks, forehead, chin, and jawline. You really missed her kisses.
“No.” She looks at you, making you give her a puzzled look. “I want to do things the right way, and I don’t want to rush anything.” She gives you a kiss on the nose. “Plus, on a first date, you never ask someone to stay the night!” Making you chuckle. “You wait at least for the third date. On the first date, you only ask for one thing…” 
You knew where this was going; she was going to ask you for a kiss. “What do you ask for?”
“For a kiss.” She states, getting all shy again. Then, her gaze softens, and her voice becomes serious. “Can I kiss you?”
“Yes, you can.” You take your hands and put them on her neck, slightly playing with the hair on the back of her head, while she takes your sides and gently leans in for a peck. 
“Just that?” You chuckle. “You have to give me more than that. I haven’t kissed you in more than a month.”
Without asking twice, she pulls you closer to her for a more passionate kiss that takes your breath away. It was needy, and it was full of passion. You both haven’t kissed each other in so long, and the constant teasing of the whole night made the both of you react in a desperate way for each other. You were slowly going forward in your new relationship with each other, but that didn’t mean you didn’t miss the small or big actions one did with the other’s body. You knew each other’s body perfectly, and frankly, you missed how much perfectly her lips would encapsulate yours or how she knew how much to push or how much you needed from her.
She pushes you to the wall and slowly traces her tongue on your lips, asking you for permission. You absolutely granted her that. Your mind was hazy, and you weren’t functioning properly. The both of you forgot that you were in a freaking house with kids that could walk in on you at any moment, but you didn’t care; you finally had your girl back. Both hands were roaming everywhere, clearly not containing your excitement. You always loved it when Alexia took control, and after a month of not feeling her body, hands, and lips on you, it made it all worse. After a period of time that was not enough for you, she put her forehead on yours, with the both of you panting for air.
She then begins giving you small pecks on the lips, “I.” Another peck, “Missed.” Another one. “This.” And finally, placing the last kiss on your lips, lingering a little.
“Wait, sorry. What did you miss? I didn’t quite understand. Can you show me again?” You tease her. She turns you around and then brings you even closer, lifting you in the air and kissing you again.
She then puts you on the ground and looks at you, giving you the smile that was only reserved for you. The real one showed all 32 teeth, but what made it special were her eyes. Whenever she smiled like that, her eyes would narrow, and her whole face would light up.
“I love you.” Before you can reply, she gives you another peck. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night, mi amor.” And before you could reply to anything, she left the house, leaving you frozen in the spot. After two good minutes to compose yourself, you go upstairs to get ready for bed.
You were reading some book to get yourself tired and ready to sleep when you heard your phone buzz.
‘I just got home :)’
‘I really had fun today. I’m so glad you had given me a second chance.’
‘I’m glad too. But maybe next time, don’t run away like that.’
‘I won’t, I promise. Good night’
‘Goodnight.’
You put your phone away and go to sleep.
-
The next day was the last day before you, Alexia and Lucia would begin preseason. You were excited, but at the same time, you were a little worried about leaving Ava and sometimes Lucia for work. You hoped that when school for them would start, everything would get easier from there. It was 8 am, and as you got downstairs in your kitchen, you began your morning routine. Scroll through some news and wait for the kids to wake up. As you scroll on your phone, you receive a text from Alexia saying that she will be arriving soon. 
You had to go to the hospital with Ava for some check-ups, and you were really worried. With all your experience with hospitals with Nico, you always hated going inside there for check-ups, especially when one of your loved ones was involved. So you really hoped that the visit would go well. And even though every month, you spent at least three hours in a hospital trying to cheer up children who went through the same condition that your little brother had, you felt that on this occasion, it was different. This time, you went with your child, giving you a different type of fear.
As soon as Alexia arrived, you and the girls had breakfast together; needless to say, it was very awkward. Lucia was still annoyed with Alexia; Ava was really tired because you had to wake her up early. And you were already worried about going back to the hospital, so you were deep in your thoughts, continuously zoning out.
When Alexia noticed it, she put a hand on your thigh to give you some type of comfort; you both shared a look that made you understand how each other was feeling. This is what you loved and missed about your relationship with her, the way that you understood each other in every way, almost as if you both could read each other’s mind.
As soon as you finished breakfast, the girls went to their rooms to get ready, which left you and Alexia alone to do the dishes. You were cleaning them while she was drying the mugs. You were weirdly silent and clearly in your head.
“Y/n, are you okay?”
Alexia’s voice made you snap out of the trance. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. It’s just, today Ava has a visit with the oncologist, and I’m-“
“You are worried.” She finishes the sentence for you to understand how you are feeling.
“You already know that I hate going to the hospital for any medical reason, especially for people I care about. And I know that this is just a formality, but still, it’s making me have flashbacks of Nico.” You say in one breath.
“You don’t have to justify your feelings with me, okay?” She says, turning her head to you and giving you an earnest smile. You slowly nod, and then you finish up cleaning. “Do you want me to come with you?” She says while hugging you from behind, leaving some small kisses on your shoulders, trying to give you some comfort.
“You don’t have to. You might have some other stuff to do.” You say, turning your body around to face her.
“My family is more important.” She gives you a small peck on the lips, making your stomach flip.
“Do you love our little family so much that you would be willing to drive us?” You ask tentatively, with the both of you knowing how much you hated driving.
She chuckles, rolling her eyes. “Okay, I will.”
“So, what are your plans for the day?” You ask Alexia while she is driving you and the girls to the hospital. 
“So you know, what happened at the World Cup?”
You nod.
“Well, my agent wants me to release a video or write a note explaining what happened.”
“Do you already know what you are going to say?”
“I’m retiring from the national team.”
“Wait. Really?” You weren’t that shocked at the news; after what happened with Jorge, you knew that Alexia wouldn’t have returned to play if he was the coach.
“Yeah, and it’s not going to be only me.”
“Who else?”
“For now, Ona and Aitana, they are waiting for me to break the news. But many others will retire, too. I’ll tell you everything later in the afternoon when you’ll dye your hair.” She sends you a wink.
This made both girls turn to look at you.
“Are you dyeing your hair?” Lucia asks.
“I made a stupid bet with Alexia, and I lost it, so I have to dye my hair purple. She’s going to dye it for me, as I hate going to the hairdresser.” You cross your arms while the two young girls chuckle.
“Can I help? Can I help?” Ava asks excitedly.
“You know what? I don’t care anymore. Do whatever you want with my hair.” You say exasperated.
“Stop being so dramatic,” Alexia says, clearly mocking you.
“I’m not being dramatic.” You pout.
“Yes, you are being dramatic.” Lucia interjects, saying the first words since she got in the car. 
“If it turns out bad, I’ll blame it on the three of you.”
-
As you got inside the hospital, you went into the oncology department, where basically everybody knew you from all the visits that you did in the past years with the other players; what they didn’t know was that you had in custody the two girls, making all the nurses from the floor give you a questioning look.
You sensed that Lucia was worried, too, so you nudged Alexia to go with Ava, leaving you with the older sister.
You put your arm on her shoulder and give her a kiss on the temple. “Everything is going to be okay. You have to be strong for her.”
“How do you do it?”
“What?”
“You are not worried. How do you do it?”
“Oh, believe me, I’m super worried, even though it’s just a check-up. I just try to cope with it.”
“How?”
“It’s not very healthy, so you probably shouldn’t do it.” She looks at you blankly. “Just whenever it gets too much, come and talk to me or to anyone. Don’t keep everything in. You are going to explode, believe me.”
She slowly nods and then thanks you. “And now that I have you for the first time alone, stop doing that thing with Alexia, please.”
“What thing?” She asks dumbly.
“Giving her the death stare, or not talking to her, or refusing to sit next to her.”
“I would never do such a thing!” She says defensively, even though you both knew that it wasn’t the case.
“Lucia.” You reprimanded her.
“Okay, she left you, us, without saying a word; you have basically forgiven her right away. I can’t let her just walk into Ava’s life again as if nothing happened. Maybe she’ll leave again, and Ava will be crushed, and I can’t let that happen.”
“Listen, I know that you are hurt, and you are kind of right from a point of view. But you don’t know the whole story. And I have known Alexia for nearly ten years now, and I know for a fact that she won’t abandon her family.”
“But she did.”
“As I told you before, you don’t know the whole story, and frankly, I don’t think you should because it is something between me and her. What I ask you is to give her a second chance. She deserves it. Will you try? Please.”
She nods.
As soon as you get to the waiting room, Lucia reminds you that Ava just changed doctors because her previous doctor had just retired. You hoped that her new doctor would be just as good as her other one.
What you didn’t expect is for you to know her.
As soon as the doctor’s office door opens, you almost immediately recognize her voice, soon after you recognize her.
“Y/n?” She asks, shocked.
“Oh my god! It’s you, then.” You walk to her and hug her.
Making the three other girls confused; you then turn to them and explain. “This is Emma; we were friends a long time ago.” You say happily.
“So, who are those people!” She asks you while resting her arm on your shoulder. She has always been very touchy.
“Well, this is Ava and Lucia; you have a visit with the little one, I guess. And this is-“
“Alexia.” Your girlfriend? You didn’t know what to call her. Walks up to her and shakes her hand.
“Are they yours?” She asks.
“We recently gained custody of them.”
“Oh wow!” She jokes. Then she kneels next to Ava, who was sitting down next to her big sister, “So you must be Ava. I’m Doctor Emma Fernandez. But you can call me Doctor Em.” Then she turns to you. So I know that you are in four, but only one of you can come with her.” You turn to look at Lucia, and you can see her distressed face turn into a defeated look. You knew that she wanted to be there, present for her sister, as protecting her was all she had ever known.
“Can you make an exception? I’m legally her guardian, but I’d rather have her sister come too, just to ease some nervousness.” You try to give her one of your most convincing smiles in the hopes that she will agree to your proposal.
She first looks at you, then the girls, and in the end, Alexia, then back to you. “Okay. Only because it’s her first visit.” She turns around to her office and lets you all in.
Thankfully, the visit went well, and you all returned home happy and grateful. Back home, the girl was minding their own business while you and Alexia were in the kitchen, figuring out her post on the national team.
-
You were sitting on the countertop while Alexia was sitting down on your left, very much focused, writing something on her iPad.
“So, do you know exactly what you are going to say?” Caressing her cheek, trying to make her divert her attention to you, she gives you a smile, leaning in the contact.
“I need to be cautious because I really don’t want to fall into any miscommunication or accidentally blame someone who’s not involved.”
“I really do believe that if you and some other big names put out a statement, things will change. But I know that you are in a very different position than I was when we sent that email. So whatever it happens, I understand, and I will support you.”
She turns her iPad towards you, “Read it.” She hands it to you, and you read what she wrote. It was a short note saying that she would be retiring from the national team because of some issues faced by the federation that put winning and pride over the well-being of the players. And then she added that what happened after the match against the USA with the coach was something inexcusable and unacceptable.
“I know that is very similar to what you said in the letter, so if you want me to change it, I’ll do it.” She says while you are still reading everything.
“It doesn’t matter if it’s similar if you tell the truth. For me, it’s perfect and very ballsy. If you want to post it, I’ll support you. But that’s my opinion. If you want a more objective opinion, I think you should ask Jenni or maybe Aitana to give you their opinion.”
“I already send it to them. I’ll probably post it tomorrow after I call my agent. What about you? I thought your agent told you to clarify about the kids thing.”
“Yeah, he did.”
“Have you been ignoring the problem?” She asks, already knowing the answer.
“Yep. I was about to make a post, but then I didn’t.” 
“Why?” 
“Because it didn’t feel right to do it at that moment.” She looks at you, puzzled, “It didn’t feel right because you weren’t there. I was about to do it when you were at the World Cup, and we broke up and were on a break or whatever that was.” She turns her head to the ground, sadly, still a little ashamed and guilty of breaking up with you. “And it didn’t feel right to post about my family when a huge part of it was missing. I was hoping you’d come back to me. And I’m so glad you did.”
She looks at you shyly. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“So you want to go public?” She smirks at you.
“I mean, we can, If you want that too. Maybe not now, but when things start to settle, we can. Again, if you want to, of course.”
-
As the night progressed, you were dreading the moment in which the girls would dye your hair. It’s not the fact that you didn’t want to dye your hair; what you hated about this was the fact that you would probably have to sit still for at least an hour, fully knowing that you couldn’t move in fear of ruining your clothes, but unfortunately, a bet is a bet and knowing that the girls would be doing that and that you would be having some family time, would make it worth it. 
This left you sitting on a chair in your bedroom, with your head in your hands, while Alexia was trying to dye your hair, and the two girls were fighting for the music to play. After a while of convincing, they opted for a random playlist while Ava turned excitedly to Alexia, asking if she could do it. You genuinely didn’t know why she was that excited, but you didn’t care.
In the end, it didn’t look that bad
-. 
It was mid-August, so this was your last day before you went in preseason, and Lucia would be joining La Masia. Since she lived in Barcelona, she would stay there 5 days a week and return home on the weekends. So you finished the night by helping her pack up, making you, in the process, a little emotional. 
It was 11 pm, and the girls just went to bed. Which left you and Alexia in the living room. You knew that it was late and you had to go to sleep, but both of you had training the following day, early in the morning. But neither of you wanted to leave. 
“I should leave-“
“Do you want to come upstairs?” You both ask at the same time.
You both chuckle. “Are you sure?” She asks you.
“Yes, I’m sure.” You smile, taking her hand and leading her to your bedroom. As you both lay down on your bed, she turns to you, “So, are we back together?” She smiles shyly.
“Are you asking me again to be your girlfriend?” You tease while putting yourself on top of her.
“Yes, I am.” She replies confidently, moving her hands to your waist.
“So ask me.”
“Will you be my girlfriend once again, Y/n?” She grins excitedly in anticipation.
“Yes, I will.” You push yourself down to give her a small peck on the lips.
“I love you so much.” 
“I love you so much, too.” You reply; while she looks at you in a way you always found so cute, you smile dumbly at her.
“What?”
“Oh, just fuck it.” You say as you crash your lips into hers, making her react immediately by lifting herself off the mattress, sitting right up, with you entirely on top of her with both of your fronts touching and ending the night with more than just kissing.
The next day, preseason had started, thus also starting the 23-24 season, one of the busiest and wholesome years of your life. 
355 notes · View notes
kus-babygirl · 26 days
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I am so fucking nervous to post this, as it is the first one shot that I have ever written, so please be gentle. Thank you so much to @enchantedflameandflower who heavily edited this and encouraged me to post it and also who I couldnt do it without you. I know I am not suppose to love Vincent Stevens, I can’t help but love him so much. (Think Karl is the reason for it, don’t judge me, we all love some very questionable characters) And this idea has been in my head for two days, and I had to write it (Also song isn’t mine, credit it goes to the amazing Adele)
Vincent Stevens (The Loft) x Reader
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Upon entering the bar for your 15th school reunion, you couldn’t help but feel an absolutely overwhelming wave of nervous energy as you look around at all the people from your past.
You had changed since seeing your old school friends - you’re curvier, changed your hair colour and have a couple tattoos…
But more than anything - you’re nervous to see him.
Him being your ex boyfriend, from when you were in school together, Vincent Stevens.
You had dated for about 4 years while in school, and he had been the perfect boyfriend, but after graduation, you broke up as you wanted different things. He wanted to go far away to college to become a architect, which he did, and you wanted to travel. But after what had happened with the murder in his loft, and all of the affairs that came out after, he had fallen far from grace. He still had his company, but no one respected him as much. Still he was slowly crawling his way back up the respect ladder.
Of course you keep tabs on him, he was your first ever love, and still is. You wanted to travel the world, and you did, you had quite a bit of money that your grandpa had left you when he passed away a year after you graduated, and so you took off, saying goodbye to your parents, your friends and even Vincent. You traveled to the UK, Thailand, South Africa, India, Thailand, Japan, Australia, New Zealand, and you spent a couple of months in each place before heading back to the states.
Now looking around the huge bar, you take everything in. There is a dance floor to the right, a curved dark oak bar with bottles upon bottles of alcohol to the left, and the bar also has a karaoke machine with a stage right in the middle of the bar and dance floor. You smile seeing some of your old friends, but not seeing Vincent yet.
So you spend a good hour, catching up and drinking with them, before finally the door of the bar opens, and Vincent walks in. It seems like everybody turns to look at him, some with happy faces and some with disgusted faces, but you…you have to turn away. It’s too much. As he approaches the bar you make a run toward the bathroom, taking a much needed breather.
You stay in there for a good 10 minutes, splashing copious amounts of cold water on your face. Taking a deep breath, you head out of the bathroom and back towards the bar, where you see Vincent having a drink with the same people you were just chatting and drinking with.
He looks over at you and gives you a small concerned smile. His hazel eyes seem to glimmer in the low light in the bar, and they’re beautiful. You give a small smile back. As he starts to head toward you, you dart away and walk over to the karaoke machine.
With a deep breath, you ask the attendant running it to put a song on for you, and he happily smiles and nods in reply. You take to the stage, gently taking the mic into your hands, and start singing:
‘Everybody loves the things you do. From the way you talk. To the way you move. Everybody here is watching you. 'Cause you feel like home. You're like a dream come true. But if by chance you're here alone. Can I have a moment? Before I go? 'Cause I've been by myself all night long. Hoping you're someone I used to know.
You look like a movie. You sound like a song. My God this reminds me, of when we were young.’
As you sing everyone stops what they’re doing and is looking at you. But you’re looking straight at Vincent, singing this to him…
‘Let me photograph you in this light. In case it is the last time. That we might be exactly like we were. Before we realized. We were scared of getting old. It made us restless. It was just like a movie. It was just like a song.’
Vincent is looking at you with a mournful expression on his face, watching you intently. He must know that it hurt you deeply when you broke up, even though it was mutual.
‘I was so scared to face my fears. Nobody told me that you'd be here. And I'd swear you moved overseas. That's what you said, when you left me.’ You are tearing up badly, and knew you couldn’t finish the whole song.
‘You still look like a movie. You still sound like a song. My God, this reminds me, of when we were young. Let me photograph you in this light. In case it is the la-,’
You start crying, dropping the mic and hearing loud ringing it makes. Running out of the bar, you walk down the street, wiping your face, trying to stop the onslaught of tears.
Suddenly, you hear your name being called by the one person you didn’t want to see you like this, but you turn around anyway and look straight at him. “V, please don’t.”
“I know you don’t want to see me right at this moment, but please let me explain everything.”
You sigh, thinking for a bit before nodding your head.
“I know us breaking up hurt you badly, and I regret that every single day. I should have put a ring on that finger when we graduated. I knew it should have been you walking down that aisle, in that wedding dress, not Barbara. All through out our married life, I kept thinking of you. Even when having sex with her…I…” he lifted his hand to rub at the back of his neck, “I even muttered your name a couple of times. We had fights because of it, and I think that’s why I had the affairs. I used each woman to fill this hole in me, using them so I could mutter your name without them caring. ‘Cause if I’m being honest with you and myself, I am still in love with you.”
You gasp, looking up at him. You weren’t ready for that confessions. “What about the murder?” you ask.
He sighs. “That was horrible pay back from my friends from college, ‘cause I am not going to lie to you, I slept with their wives, but I was thinking of you each time. I know that doesn’t justify what I’ve done. Please baby girl���”
You shiver at the nickname, squeezing your hands together to try to keep from reaching for him as he continues.
“...you make me a better man. I need you.”
Vincent is looking at you with such heartfelt emotion and love in his eyes, you can’t help but listen.
“V, I don’t know if I can. What if you go back to your old ways? I couldn’t cope if we broke up again,” you say, starting to cry again.
He quickly moves in front of you, cupping your cheeks with his big hands and leaning his forehead against yours. “I promise that will never happen. I won’t go back to my old ways. I never cheated on you when we were together. I swear on my life, please, I’ll prove to you, every single day. Please, I love you, baby-girl.”
You close your eyes, but you let him wrap you up in his arms while he lets you think. He happily let you, just standing there with you, holding you.
Finally, you sigh. “Alright, I’ll give you one chance, V, but the moment you step out of line, we are done for good, ‘cause I can’t handle it, if you did. But I love you so much.”
‘Thank you, baby-girl. I promise, I will show you that I have changed, because I love you so much too.” He gently leans down, looking in your eyes for permission and you nod your head. He smiles and kisses you so gently, but still full of passion. It is like he is making every promise to you with this one kiss.
And after that night and so forth, he treats you like a queen. He shows you his phone with his private messages and his private and personal emails every day to prove to you that he isn’t having affairs, and he loves you more than you ever thought possible.
@negansbabydoll66 @urban-trek-thru-middle-earth @bohemianblasphemy @ghostwriter2203 @shirley-girly
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lizzaneia-elizalde · 11 months
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Request: Inigo Dragonov scenario where we (his darling) didn’t cave into remarrying him. (I guess this is like an alternative timeline from the original storyline). He was thinking about bankrupting our family, so aside from that, what if we also didn’t want to remarry him because we found a new lover (that even his private investigators didn’t know about). And to make it even more soap opera drama like, our new man is Inigo’s old university rival (who’s still also his company’s rival). I’m sorry…I just love these tropes/cliches. What makes it even ❤️provokingly❤️ worse is if his rival were just to see Inigo across the street one day on an outing with us and our twin babies…and just kiss the babes while pulling us into an embrace…all while keeping a long deadlock stare with Inigo. Like DUSKGSJOSLHWJJJWJ!!!!!!!!! Unleash Inigo’s full yandere potential after being forced to witness this!
Yandere! CEO! Arranged! Ex-husband x AFAB! Ex-wife! Reader
WHAT IF: You refused to marry him?
Ooh anon, you're the worst (lovingly). You really want Iñigo to suffer huh?
Once more, I'm delving into Iñigo's lore because fun fact, Rowan may be my first yandere OC, but Iñigo had a whole novel just exploring him and his actual partner, Ykaidi! (I unpublished it on Wattpad though, it's so cringe lol. Also, there's so much stuff I changed so technically, the original timeline IS an au in itself) So this will be a good creative exercise to explore his personality more.
He's one traumatized bitch.
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No?
Did you really say no?
Iñigo scoffed before tilting his head to the side, a bit bewildered.
"This..."
Words died down in his throat as he saw your resolute face.
"A-are you sure you don't want to marry me? I told you that the children needs a father figure in their life."
He somehow got a bad feeling about this. And that proved right as you gave him a soft smirk.
"They do, actually. It's not you though."
Iñigo felt his blood run cold.
His ears started to ring from the shock he received.
"You..." You have another man? That was not... Him?
How could that possibly be?! He always made sure that his private investigators would know each and every single one of the people that you spoke to back in New Zealand.
He should rethink his choices right now.
"But, Elise and Elliot needs their biological father. I am their bio father!" Iñigo yelled, his jaw ticking. But you only rolled your eyes.
"Did you think I would take into account on going back to you?!" You screamed, marching up to him and pushing him back. Your heart squeezed in pain as it pumped to accomodate the anger rising inside of you. "You neglected me. Insulted me in ways I don't even hear from my parents!"
You stomped one step, as if crushing his heart in pieces.
"Why would I come back to you?" Your voice, crackled with the pent up anger, gave a raw, intense tone of rage that echoed your beating heart. "You must think I'm stupid if I'll run to you."
Iñigo's vision swam, breathing heavily as he felt small, pressured....
Intimidated.
He never took account of you moving on and hating him to the point of getting another man. But you did. You did what he thought was impossible.
"Sweetheart... Please..." His tone was getting desperate, clawing at the seams to make sure he won't burst from the emotions he's feeling.
Iñigo is an emotional man. Yes, he may seem cold hearted and reserved, but when it comes to you, it's different.
His hand trembled, wanting to grab your hand to rest upon his cheeks and place a shackle on it.
"I'm going." You whispered before walking out of him.
~~~Two weeks later~~~
It's been hell in Iñigo's company. He's working his employees like dogs to create the best fashion company out there.
Whatever that means.
But all he knows he needs to outrank the Smith's when it comes to the Fashion influence across the world.
He needs to outrank you.
He needs to be more popular.
More rich.
More influential.
He drank another coffee, letting the coffee dribble down his chin and onto the hardwood table.
"Indigo, I think you need to take a break." Oliver said, using the nickname he's been using since he was a child. Iñigo looked up and saw Oliver holding up a mirror, reflecting how bad Iñigo looked.
"Wow, way too drive the nail further. Fuckhead." Iñigo glared at Oliver before shaking his head and standing up. "Alright. I'll go for a walk, Livi."
Iñigo went to the bathroom, fixing his appearance, shaving a bit, and adding light makeup to his face, just to hide the circles on his eyes.
Damn, he even knew how to apply makeup just to impress you, the fashion icon you are.
His tongue stung, remembering when he called you frumpy.
He got down through the elevators and walked towards the park. His steps heavy and straightforward. He ignored the stares he got, some shocked, some flirty, but he didn't mind them.
Because once he looked up to cross the street, his eyes widened seeing you and...
"Steven..?"
Steven. He knows him so well.
He's an academic rival back then in highschool and college, and now a business rival too.
He also can't believe he's now a love rival also?
Iñigo always remained victorious between them, with Steven simmering in second place.
But Steven only laughs, rolls his eyes and moves on.
He hated that part of him.
But now, it seems that Steven is leading in one aspect.
And it's you.
Steven looked around, sightseeing before landing on Iñigo.
Both froze, unsure of what to do.
But this time, Steven smirked and pulled you close, kissing your temple lovingly then scooping Elise and Elliot into his arms, laughing as they giggled in Glee.
People awed at the sight, seeing this "father" play with his children and being openly affectionate with his "wife."
The perfect family.
Iñigo feels like he's looking into the spotlight, looking into a pedestal that looked too far from his reach.
He wanted to break the hands that affectionately caressed your hips, to tear the lips that kissed your temple, to break the ankles that dared walk up to you.
He felt something crack inside him.
Sure, he won't use violence.
On you.
But, the prospect of Steven dying in his arms, torturing him for hours sounds delightful.
He finally snapped.
He's not afraid of blood, nor guts nor any of that gorey stuff.
He got his yandere side from his biological father after all, not Allastor. It was never Allastor, after all, he's a really sweet man.
He could never spawn a devil in hiding.
And, as Iñigo walk away to buy the necessary items to torture Steven, he smirked.
"Business be damned. I'm taking what's mine."
246 notes · View notes
chussyracing · 4 months
Text
what has been happening in the world of motorsports lately?
Charles' race engineer Xavi Marcos will be replaced by Bryan Bozzi from Imola onwards while Xavi moves to a different project within the team
Ollie Bearman will be completing junior FP1 session for Haas in Imola
Ferrari tested new anti-spray wheel covers during their filming day in Fiorano (they look horrendous) - as well as the new upgrade package they will introduce in Imola
besides them, also RBR and Mercedes are bringing upgrades - Mercedes will introduce them over the next 4 races, Oscar will get full package Lando got in Miami and Sauber are set to introduce the upgrades to help with their bad pitstops
Pierre will have a special Senna tribute helmet in Imola
Jamie Chadwick scored her first podium in Indy NXT
Miami GP donated over 40 thousand portions of food that was left over from the race weekend through Food Rescue US
Marc Priestly says multiple Red Bull workers are considering departure from the team after Adrian Newey left (if you don't know him, he is maybe the most well known former mechanic)
Helmut Marko said that the rumours about Daniel getting replaced by Liam Lawson were started by Liam’s management and that’s why it was reported by a New Zealand journal first
Red Bull will present RB17 hypercar that Adrian Newey developer at Goodwood
George has a film??? Made with UBS (but it is actually a short video on social media?)
McLaren has new merch line for Monaco which is inspired by the (good) old times
German media are saying that Audi already took over Sauber and both current drivers would be out of the team
Abbi Pulling became the first woman to win British F4 race <3
the f1 Brad Pitt movie’s budget is already over 300 m AMERICAN DOLLARS
Joe Saward thinks that Alpine might be the destination for Carlos Sainz starting from next year because neither Mercedes nor Red Bull want to commit to him and rather prefer to wait and see how people shift across the teams first and since Carlos Sainz sr worked with Bruno Famin for Peugeot in Dakar, he has some links to it
speaking of, Carlos Sainz sr has been confirmed as Ford’s driver for Dakar 2025
multiple drivers or former drivers (Charles, Lando, Oscar, Zak Brown, Mark Webber, Ollie Bearman, Arthur Leclerc and even Adrian Newey) went to see Grand Prix de Monaco Historique this weekend (also just for fun: Zak Brown drove Williams FW07B
after Guenther Steiner sued Haas, Haas took a look at Surviving to Drive and they are suing him for unauthorized use of their trademark :))
Loic Serra and Jerome d’Ambrosio will start officially working for Ferrari from October
MotosportWeek spoke to Alex about his future and he refused to confirm he will drive for Williams next season (despite having a contract through 2025) and James Vowles didn’t want to comment on potentially letting him go sooner with an exit clause either
there are more rumours about Chicago GP, this time of it potentially being signed already from 2026 onwards
it’s been confirmed that the HP (ew) deal is worth 100m dollars a year with additional benefits and all technique equipment from the company (laptops, computers, printers, 3D printers etc) to Maranello
Ford confirmed their targets for 2026 RBR power unit are being met, the rumours about them being behind in the development are nonsense and they obviously don’t know where others stand with their engines
Helmut Marko said that if he was in Newey’s position he would choose red (or something like that I am paraphrasing oe24.at)
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the-oc-lass · 8 months
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Cody Day 2024
So APPARENTLY it's Cody day and I just missed that, but if you think I'm going to skip out on an opportunity to write about one of my favorite little clone guys, you'd be SORELY mistaken.
I'd love to draw him too but there's like 6 hours left in the day and I have other things to do, like eat and shower and homework.
ANYWAY, those of you who know me know that I'm the OC lady and for that reason, I'm going to write a little drabbly thing about Cody and my OC, who is like an adoptive mom to him and many other clones (see this post if you want to learn more about her). If you aren't interested in ocs, feel free to skip, the drabbly thing will be under the cut. Oh and also, the clones call her "mum" because Temuera is from New Zealand and that's how they refer to their moms (or, that's at least how my old friend referred to her New Zealander mom). Also, no idea if it's ooc, it's been a while since I watched anything with Cody in it.
Anyway, happy Cody day to all, now enjoy the first bit of Star Wars content I've written in months. Btw @langsnscraps since you've been asking for SW content for a while.
It's late in the night cycle. So late that The Negotiator is practically silent. His general and most of his brothers are blissfully asleep in their barracks, but Cody can't bring himself to do the same. He can't sleep yet. There's a cup of caf nearby, though he can't remember when he got it or if he finished its contents. Doesn't matter. He's too focused on the work in front of him, ignoring the insistent tug from his eyelids. When he hears something behind him—the door opening followed by footsteps, he quickly realizes—his hand jumps to his blaster and he whips around, ready to draw it if he needs to. But as quickly as his fight reaction was triggered, it's soothed. Onteile Tiax is standing a few feet away, a calm expression on her face even as she holds up her hands. He exhales, hand falling back to his side.
"Sorry, mum," he mutters. She lowers her hands as well, folding them in front of her as she tilts her head.
"It's alright, Cody. I should know better than to creep up behind you," she says. He frowns slightly at her.
"I could've hurt you." The calm expression shifts to one of soft amusement, and she raises her eyebrow slightly. Alright, that's probably not true. He sighs and turns away from her, looking back at the holotable in front of him. He can hear her moving again, and she eventually appears at his side.
"Can you not sleep, Cody?" she asks, voice gentle and concerned. He shakes his head and looks down at his data pad.
"I just have a few things I need to do," he mutters. Her gaze weighs on him, but he resolutely keeps his eyes on the information in front of him.
"I worry for you," she says suddenly. He lifts his head to look at her, met with a look of apprehension. She lifts a hand, gently cupping his face. "You put far too much on yourself. I just want to make sure you're alright." He leans into the affectionate touch, just a bit, and offers what he hopes is a comforting smile.
"I'm fine, mum," he says. Bright eyes inspect him carefully, and he feels her stroke her thumb across his cheek for a moment before her hand falls away again.
"Would you like some help?" He considers denying her offer, telling her that she should go back to bed, but he admits that company sounds nice. So, he nods, and she smiles softly before picking up a data pad of her own.
~~
When the work is done—or, at least acceptably lessened—she finally convinces him to go to bed. He walks at her side through the empty halls, The Negotiator humming around them. He takes a moment to look at her as they walk. She's not much taller than Cody himself, but the way that she carries herself makes her seem towering and important. She doesn't hold any official military rank, but she looks like she holds a great deal of authority. People respect her most everywhere she goes. Walking at her side always makes him try to stand just a bit straighter, hold himself with more confidence. A small, unspoken of part of him wants to make her proud. They stop outside of her room—because Cody is a gentleman and promised to walk her to her door—and she turns toward him.
"Promise me you'll rest, Cody," she says. He smiles slightly at her.
"I'll do my best, mum." She smiles back at him.
"That's all I ask." She reaches out, and he allows her to tilt his head down slightly so that she can press a warm kiss to his forehead. "I'll see you in a few hours, Cody." When she releases him, he looks her in the eye again, nodding.
"Sleep well, mum." She nods as well, and he steps around her to walk to his own room.
"I love you, Cody." He pauses, looking back at her. "I just wanted to remind you." His chest is filled with warmth at the affectionate look on her face, and he smiles at her again.
"I love you too, mum."
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ferretrade · 3 months
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you know i gotta ask about messy codywan baby<3
I'd expect nothing less from the writer of foelu, one of the best accidental baby fics of all <3
so fun facts! Cody is a retired footballer who moves to England for a job and to get ~space~ from her past. but you never can quite do that can you? here's a tabloid article that fucks her over that I enjoyed writing sooo much I can't help share it.
Loved-Up Cody Fett with New Man—and Baby Bump Makes Three!  Cody Fett (25) was spotted making eyes with an unknown beau in London. The couple popped in and out of shops over the afternoon, enjoying each other's company. And from the glow, it's clear a little bundle of joy is on the way!  [Blurry image of Cody and Quinlan smiling at each other. Cody is wearing sunglasses and an oversized sweatshirt over leggings.]  [Close up image of Cody's abdomen with an arrow and added text: She can try, but she can't hide the bump!] Fett is a recently retired women's football player from New Zealand, notable for being the youngest woman to ever play a World Cup (16) or Olympic match (17). Her career was cut short by a brutal injury last year and she has since relocated to London.
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wehangout · 3 months
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Tagged by @francesrose3 @deedala @blue-disco-lights @energievie
and @mybrainismelted for this week's tag game. Thanks for enabling my procrastination, pals 😘
Name: Jen
Age: yeah
Location (globally): New Zealand
Location (physically): just my chair
Favourite Food to Eat: Chocolate and fries. Not together.
Favourite Food to Cook: Pasta bake
Will you be attending @too-schoolforcool’s ☀️ Kitchen Shenanigans🍴with Cherry on the 6th July? I believe that will be 7am Sunday the 7th my time, and I'm out with the girls the night before, so no.
What’s Your Zodiac: Scorpio
Will you be attending @heymacy’s ☀️ Astrology 101: More Than Just Your Sun Sign ☀️ lecture on the 13th July? I think this is also 7am on a Sunday ... just doesn't work for me 😭
Now let predictive text complete each sentence for you after the 💭
My age is 💭 not a smart move
My favourite animal is 💭 in the other three have rusted through (this is in relation to my oven wtf
I love to cook 💭 my own (👀)
I love to eat 💭 you like that
I have a lot of ideas about💭 you and I
I have no clue 💭 what to do with the mayo (😂😂😂)
My dream career is 💭 a good portion of my wip
My favourite character on Shameless 💭not a smart move
Debbie Gallagher is💭 a companion piece to suncatcher
Carl Gallagher is 💭 a companion piece to suncatcher
Mandy Milkovich is 💭a companion piece to suncatcher
Mickey Milkovich is 💭a companion piece (everyone is a fucking companion piece to suncatcher)
Ian Gallagher is 💭 the best friend of the day (yay!)
To me Ian and Mickey are 💭 doing well (oh 🥹)
Gallavich means 💭 you have to do it with the fic
I wish anyone who reads this to 💭 a member of the company
Tagging: @palepinkgoat @deathclassic @stocious @captainjowl @callivich
@psychicskulldamage @vintagelacerosette @the-rat-wins
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scotianostra · 8 months
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youtube
On January 28th 1908 Jimmy Shand, Scottish country dance band leader was born.
Shand was a musician who played traditional Scottish dance music on the accordion.
Born James Shand in East Wemyss in Fife, son of a farm ploughman turned miner. One of nine children, they soon moved to the burgh of Auchtermuchty.The town is also known as the birthplace of the brothers Charlie and Craig Reid of The Proclaimers and now boasts a larger than life-sized sculpture of Shand. His father was a skilled melodeon player. Jimmy started with the mouth organ and soon played the fiddle. At the age of 14 he had to leave school and go down the mines. He played at social events and competitions. His enthusiasm for motor-bikes turned to an advantage when he played for events all round Fife. In 1926 he did benefit gigs for striking miners and was consequently prevented from returning to colliery work.
One day Jimmy and a friend were admiring the instruments in the window of Forbes' Music Shop in Dundee. His friend said "It wouldn't cost you to try one". Jimmy walked in and strapped on an accordion. The owner heard Jimmy and immediately offered him a job as travelling salesman and debt-collector. He soon acquired a van and drove all over the north of Scotland. He switched to the British chromatic button accordion, an instrument he stuck with for the rest of his life.
Shand failed an audition for the BBC because he kept time with his foot. At a time when gramophones were very much luxury items he made two records for the Regal Zonophone label in 1933. His career took off when he switched to making 78s for the Beltona label between 1935 and 1940. Most of the Beltona recordings were solo, but he experimented with small bands. This boosted sales. He appeared in a promo film shown in cinemas. While the image showed his fingers moving in a blur, Jimmy was disappointed to hear the sound track playing a slow air.
Jimmy was prevented from joining the RAF by a digestive disorder, and spent the war years in the Fire Service. On New Year's morning 1945 he made his first broadcast with "Jimmy Shand and Band". This was the first of many such BBC radio and television appearances.
After the war he became a full-time musician and adopted a punishing life-style later adopted by rock bands. He would play Inverness one night, London the next night and still drive the van back, at breakneck speed, to bed in Dundee.
He took his trademark bald head, Buddy Holly specs and full kilted regalia, Scottish reels, waltzes, jigs and strathspeys to North America, Australia and New Zealand, including Carnegie Hall in New York
In 1972 he went into semi-retirement. From then he played only small venues in out of the way places for a reduced fee. He was made a freeman of Auchtermuchty in 1974, North East Fife in 1980 and Fife in 1998. He became Sir Jimmy Shand in 1999. His portrait is in the Scottish National Gallery, close to Niel Gow.
In 1983 Jimmy released a retrospective album with the cheeky title "The First 50 years". At the age of 88 he recorded an album and video with his son, "Dancing with the Shands".
More than 330 compositions are credited to Jimmy Shand. He recorded more tracks than the Beatles and Elvis Presley combined. In 1985, British Rail named a locomotive Jimmy Shand.
Dissatisfied with the chromatic button-key accordions available on the market in the 1940s so he designed his own one. The Hohner company still manufactures the "Shand Morino" to his specifications.
The statue, as I earlier said is in Auchtermuchty, there is also a memorial in East Wemyss/
How many of you out there remember doing "Strip theWillow" during our school years, or even after at a cèilidh
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