#something something crying and holding hands and hugging

[prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue]

❝DAY IN THE LIFE OF TODDLER DAMI.ᐟ ❞

━ DATE EDITION. .♡

⤿ ft. conner kent & jon kent ₊⊹

summary ━ au in which older, sibling reader !! takes care of toddler damian .

⤿ fluff , clingy , toothing aching fluff₊⊹

pt.1

╰› name was fast asleep as it is currently six in the morning and she had only fallen asleep around four . everything was peaceful - something straight out of those american dream movies when all of a sudden name's phone goes off.

crds to endure_gif for the art

╰› it was a peaceful saturday morning for damian , today he gets his amazing , incredible sister all to himself , undisturbed by work and he also gets to cuddle with her and watch wild krats. damian carefully holds up his ipad as his show drones on , one arm holds the screen while the other latches on to name's arm.

╰› her ring tone practically pierces through the peaceful silence leaving a sour taste in his mouth. damian began to fuss around and cry abit - he hates the sound of name's ringtone - it always means name is taken away from hom and he's left alone.

╰› beside him name groggily wakes up , instictively pulling damian to her chest to which he immediatly nuzzled into her neck for comfort . name's hand outstretched onto her nearby nightstabd and roughly yanked her phone away from it's charger.

╰› " hello ?" name's groggy voice murmurs into her phone as she rubs the sleep out of her eyes . " GOOOD MORNING ~" answered a sing song voice that immediately made damian cringe. he recognized that stupid , annoying , grating voice anywhere - it was Conner Kent , supposed 'lovechild' of Clark and Luthor who has taken upon himself to insert himself into his family.

╰› now damian didnt care at first - since conner was only here because he was on the same team as tim and worked with dick but he certainly did start to care when the bastard had the audacity to start flirting with HIS SISTER . absolute blasphemy , a cardinal sin , a threat to humanity .

╰› "kent it is six in the morning what do you want ..?" name asked , voice annoyed as her hand mindlessly began to ruffle with damian's hair. damian snuggled closer , his arms practically gripped onto her t shirt as he angerily stared at her phone.

╰› " wellll you know how we are on that mission together ? welllllll... i forgot some details sooooo i thought we can catch up over breakfast !" conner asked , voice hopeful. name just stared blankly into the distance - her brain trying to process the situation meanwhile damian just glared even harder into the phone.

╰› " kent....you made the plan ....what do you mean you forgot ?" name trailed off and damian can feel his face turning red - how dare this idiot interrupt his time with his sister for something so ridiculous. Conner akwardly laughs on the other side .

╰› " ahahahahaha so funny ...uhh can you just meet me in mc donalds ? " he akwardly stammers out. damian can feel a headache forming and he hasn't even spoken to Todd or Drake yet. " alright....just know dami's comming with me " name murmurs out , still sleepy.

╰› " namiee" damian babbles as he hugged her around the neck , greatful she was taking him with her and not leaving him in bruce's care - god knows he can't take care of himself much less for a kid. " ahh that's alright !!! i got jon with me maybe they can have a playdate while we have a data !" conner rambles. damian mouth turned into a frown - how dare that worthless idiot attempt to date HIS sister and also have the balls to stick him with his other dumbass version of himself.

╰› " shut up kent " name says uninterested as she cuts the call short and tosses her phone elsewhere. she looks down and was greeted with damian's small frown. " namie " he complains , " mhmm i know dami , i know but it seems important " name says as she caresses his face. damian pouts at this , " namieee" he once again complains and name just softly laughs and kisses him on his chubby cheeks , " i love you too hun".

╰› within thirty minutes , name sits in her black red porche , parked outside of a run down mc donalds , name is dressed in a beautiful green sun dress , her hair is left open , face with minimal makeup , gold accesories and of course chimmy choo heels.

╰› damian is in a matching green sweater , black pants and channel shoes . he busies himself on his ipad as name shoots conner a text on her phone.

╰› name takes out damian by his booster seat and locks her car , " namieee" damian complains , already hating everything about this. name sighs , " i know bud it's just for a little bit ". with that name walks them along inside the mc donalds , immediatly the were hit with the scent of stale air and fries .

╰› name glances around the busy restaurant and immediately clocks conner and jon by a nearby table and made her way there. " morning kent " name addresses as she approaches the table , " morning name - looking gorgeous as ever and uhh..hi damian" conner trails off. in his booster seat - damian send the man a scowl that would make a grown man cry , he hates everything already and is hoping name just straight says this was a stupid prank and take him back home so that they can resume their cuddle session.

╰› name slides into the seat across from jon and conner , setting damian's booster seat right next to her . " hiii aunty name !!" jon cheerfully greets her . jon eagerly waves her down and excitedly shows her his toy truck. " hi jon , nice truck you got there " name says excitedly . damian frowns and begins to cry abit , not enjoying the fact that his sister is giving some random child attention.

╰› name immediatly snaps back towards him and remives him from his booster seat and begins cradling him in her arms , " its okay dami , it's okay " she murmurs as she presses a kiss into his cheek. " namieee" damian whines out as he snuggles into her neck , not before sending a glare towards jon.

╰› " ahahahaha...... how about we let them go play in the play area while we order and talk hmm name ?" conner asks , smile bright . damian frowns - he is not letting that mutt spend any minute with her alone - over his tiny body. he immediatly begin to fuss and tighten his hold around name .

╰› " damian seems like he doesn't wanna go - but it's alright we wre just going over the details for the plan right ?" name says , tilting her head. A flash of disapppintment flashes through Conner's face , " yeahh not like this was a date or something " he murmurs but it was swallowed into the abyss when Jon began his rambling.

╰› " i want nuggiess and - and the toy !! " jon rambles on happily , immediatly lighting up the damper mood on the table. " i think this is a sign to order , what do you guys want ?" name asks as she picks up the menu . " hapoy meal ! happy meal ! " jon excitedly chants , arms raised in the air.

╰› name smiles at that before turning to the sulking damian in her arms , " what do you want damian ?" she asks . damian nuzzles into her , he never really likes mc donalds but for name's sake he'll eat something. " namiee " he answers after a while of thinking . " alright i'll get you a happy meal too , Con what about you ?" name asks , turning her attention to said male which makes damian frown.

╰› " uhhhhh sausage mcmuffin and the big breakfast with hot cakes oh and - add an iced coffee to that please " conner finishes his order . " alright i'll be back - just watch dami for me " name says before taking off. " namieee !" damian calls after her but it was too late she was already in the line for the cashier.

╰› the table gets akward . jon is busy playing with his truck to care , conner is trying to be nonchalant and scroll through his phone but it's really hard when your crush's baby brother keeps shooting daggers at you. he really tries to play it off as him being a baby - but seriously damian depsite being three , looks like he is ready to lunge a knife into his throat.

╰› name comes back and damian immediatly takes it upon himself to latch onto her . " alright what did i miss ?" name asks , breathless. conner looks over to damian , who was already looking at him murderously , " uhhh nothing - nothing " he stumbles out. name shrugs it off and takes out some crayins and a book out of her bag. " who wants to color ?" and immediatly jon and damian looks excited.

╰› for the rest of the while , jon and damina colored - well more like jon kept coloring out of line and making up his own thing while damian was focused on enuring his side portion looked neat. conner and name conversed back and forth - about their mission and it's details - again more like name was talking because conner was just staring at her with hearts in his eyes.

╰› sooner than later , a waitress brings over their order , " well aren't you all a cute couple and such cute kids you got together !" the waitress exclaimed. name eyes practically shot open while conner's face was a deep shade of red . " t-thanks " he stammered out before the waitress walked away.

╰› damian was horrified - it was like he was living in a nightmare - kent ? conner kent married to his sister ? hell no . not happening , it is never going to happen , plus they don't even look like a couple - hell they have nothing in common .

╰› damian chews on his fries angerily , still glaring at conner while jon recalled how he picked corn yesterday to name who was eagerly listening to him - practically tunning those two out. conner doesn't knkw what to do - he is a man great with kids , everyine loves him but damian ? lord damian hates him to the core.

╰› and to make things worse of course the one kid who hates him happens to be his crush's baby brother !! i mean come on how is he supposed to make a good impression on name ? conner continues to eat his breakfast quietly . " - and then papa let us roast it on the stove and ma put butter on it and we ate it for dinner !!" jon says excitedly as name nods.

╰› " mhmm very proud of you jon for helping your ma pick corn , that was very brave of you hun" name praised. conner can't help but blush at this and when he recalls what the waitress said , they do really look like a married couple eating out with their sons - i mean she treats jon like her own and shes so gorgeous and effortless when she does it .

╰› sooner than later , to conner's dismay their 'date' ended and now he'a walking name and damian back to their car , jon settled on his hip - a show of his strength. name unlocks her car and turns to conner , " today was really nice conner thank you " she said , voice soft and conner swears he can feel his heart beating out of his chest.

╰› " a-anytime name " he stammers as he leans down to her slowly . conner finds himself getting lost in her eyes and how soft her lips look that he doesn't even realize he's inches away from her. before he can even kiss her - a short , chubby hand sticks out and covers his mouth abruptly . " namie " complains damian as he sends a sharo glare towards conner.

╰› how dare such a cave man attempt to kiss kiss his sister in some stinky parking lot - how absurd. connee akwardly coughs while name laughs - damian on the other hand ? pissed beyond anything. " ahahaha uhm- so uhm bye name !" conner exclaims as he turns on his heal and beelines to his own car - too embrassed to stick around.

╰› " byeee aunty name !!" jon squeals after her as conner chucks the kid into his car , " byee jon !!!" name chuckles out . damian scowls at conner's figure getting into the car while name sets him back in his booster seat. name leans down and kisses him , " since you behaved so well wanna go to the zoo dami ?" she askes while she buckles him in.

╰› " namiee " damian answers as he tore his gaze from conner back to his sister. he just thankful he doesnt have to have kent's idiocy and gets to be with his sister again.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ thanks for reading !!

[brokenbough]

"No- no, Simon!" You whimper, squirming away from his hands, your own clawing at the floor.

"Cmon, you can take it." He grumbles, his voice low and command clear.

"Please- oh fuck. Simon, Simon, Simon." You recite like a prayer, squirming again as he adds pressure. You whimper and moan, fighting-- anything to get him to stop.

"Stop squirming, you need it. Take it." He commands roughly again, pinning you firmer into the wooden floorboards.

"Alright, what the fuck are you guys doing?" Soap and Gaz burst in through the door, looking down at the two of you.

There you are on your stomach, pinned under Simon, his hands on your back, his front against your butt. But... clothed.

"What type of freak shit are yall doing?" Gaz asks, watching you squirm under Simon again. He doesn't let you move, pressing down on your lower back once more, growling something quietly at you.

You cry out, whimpering again and clinging to nothing. "Simon, Simon please!" You whine again.

"Take it Doll. Take it." He says, rubbing that same spot.

You groan loudly, starting to fight him again.

"Alright dude, what the hell!" Soap questions, pushing Simon off of you.

You crawl away quickly, standing with a groan.

"What?" Simon grumbles out, pushing Soap back a bit, watching Kyle hug you tightly.

"You can't just pin down girls ya like and- and do whatever the hell that was!" Soap growls out.

Simon tilts his head, looking to you and back to Soap. "What the fuck are you on MacTavish?" Simon asks again, pushing past the sergeant to you.

"You- whatever you were doing to her." Soap continues, getting between you two again.

"Move." He says to his sergeant harshly, leaving no room for argument. But Soap doesn't, standing his ground and protecting you from his perverted lieutenant.

"I'm not gonna ask again." Simon says, glowering down at Soap. Kyle is behind both of them, you behind him as they stand bodyguard.

Finally free from Simon's hands, you quickly dart out of the door, hearing the growl of Simon behind you.

"Fuck off Lt.!" You yell back, turning corners and jumping over furniture and people as Simon is stuck behind his two sergeants. You get as far away as you can.

--

"Back. away." You demand, ready to run again as Soap and Gaz corner you.

"Nah ah little lady." Gaz says, a lazy smile on his face.

--

"You guys fucking suck!" You yell, squirming in Soap's hold, Gaz walking behind him for backup in case you tried to run again.

They quickly deliver you back to your lieutenant, dropping you at his very feet.

"Don't run bunny, won't and never will end well for you." Simon says, kneeling next to you. "On your stomach." He growls.

You huff, turning over and glaring at the sergeants who brought you here. "Dead to me. All of you." You growl before it fades into a soft moan of pleasure and pain as Simon settles back onto your butt, rubbing from your lower back and up.

"There ya go." He croons, adding more pressure.

"When I--fuck, fuck."

"Right there?" He teases.

"No, fuck you. And when I get the chance, I'm gonna break every single one of your stupid little fing-- FUCK!" You grip nothing again, clawing for one of the sergeants-- something, anything.

"Soap. You had the most to say, hold her hand." Simon commands, rubbing circles now.

Soap is hesitant, and even more so at your sadistic smile as he slowly moves closer. You quickly latch onto him when he gets close enough, pulling him down with you.

Soap sits there with you, grunting in pain every time your nails dig into his pale skin.

Simon continues to massage you, hitting all the right parts that scream in agony under his hands. Your body begs for more, but your mouth knows better than to give Ghost a big head.

"Gonna kill you Simon." You say before he makes you whine and whimper as if it's some joke.

"Yeah?" He asks.

"Nice-- ngh-- and slow." You relay.

"Like this?" He asks, a slow, long drag of his knuckles down your back.

You don't answer, can't, as you fall into a fit of more moans. You squeeze Soap, your salvation between the pain and pleasure.

"Jesus lass, keep gripping me like that, you're gonna leave a mark." Soap grumbles, hissing when you break skin. Again.

"Shut the fuck up!" You growl, whining again almost to the point of tears.

"Gonna do your shoulders after." Simon says as if it's a threat. And it is.

"Please no, please, Simon. Simon, Simon, please, hear me out."

"Mmm..." He mulls, looking down at your turned head. You, no longer holding onto Soap for dear life.

"Tomorow. Please, just do it tomorrow." You plead, eyes misty with unshed tears of pain-- pleasure?

"That's the thing Doll, I don't really feel like chasing tomorrow. I don't feel like chasing at all."

"I'll- I'll come to you. Please. Just tommorow."

"Why should I believe you when you just tried to run 40 minutes ago?"

"Cmon Lt., you know I'm not a liar."

"No, but you're a runner." He counters.

"F-fine. End of day. I'll come to you after dinner."

"I don't know if that works for me Doll."

"Please." You beg again.

--

"Dead to me. All of you." You say at dinner, glaring at Simon, Johnny, and Kyle.

"What is she talking about?" Price asks, slightly amused.

"She won't go to medical and I'm tired of hearing her complain about being sore." Ghost says nonchalantly.

"She doesn't like Lt's massages." Soap chimes in. "Got a couple of scars from 'er." He continues, showing Price his arm. The thin crescents now just a slight pink from where you dug your nails into him.

"Wouldn't have happened if you didn't force me to go to him." You snap back.

"Yeah, yeah."

"What's this about you not going to medical?" Of course that's the part he focuses on.

"Well, I--"

"It's handled Cap'n. Don't gotta worry about 'er." Ghost finally chimes in, staring directly at you.

You flick him your finger before going back to your food. You had to mentally prepare for his heavy, deft... strong... veiny hands to massage out the kinks in your shoulder.

Oh fuck.

--

"Sit." Simon says, pointing to his office chair.

"We can't do tomorrow?" You ask weakly, already moving to the chair.

"No. We're doing legs tomorrow."

"What--"

"Shh." He says, his heavy hands on your shoulders.

You sighed, moaning before he even got to rubbing.

"Eager?" He teases.

"N-- oh~" you moan, leaning back into his chair.

"There ya go. Relax." He encourages kindly, genuinely happy to help. He really was tired of you complaining about being sore and didn't need you stiff on a mission. He'd work through all your... kinks if it meant a better mission... and maybe listening to you moan his name, begging for a release he wouldn't give.

Maybe.

Bold of you to assume he does the small things out of the goodness of his heart without any benefit for himself.

Naive even.

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

If you can't tell, I'm in pain. My left shoulder specifically

[thatonegrimm]

Hiya may I request Saja boys x reader separately where it’s readers birthday but as like a prank they pretend to forget the whole day until it’s dark and they finally wish her happy birthday but readers extremely hurt about the thing so they apologize in their own way of weird apologies?

Thank you for your request! Oof—this is a good one! I feel so bad for anyone who’s actually been through something like this… poor reader. 😭 Here you go!

🌙 Saja Boys x Reader — They Forgot Your Birthday (But Not Really)

It was supposed to be a prank. Just one day of pretending they didn’t remember. You were supposed to laugh when they finally yelled surprise. But you didn’t. So they apologized — each in their own strange, broken, deeply them kind of way.

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

🧿 Jinu

Jinu knew something was wrong when you stopped humming.

You always hummed when you were comfortable — washing dishes, fiddling with your phone, folding laundry. But today, the dorm was quiet. Too quiet. Not even footsteps. Not even sighs.

He poked his head into the living room and found you sitting perfectly still, curled into yourself on the far corner of the couch. You weren’t looking at anything. Not your phone. Not the TV. Not him.

He felt something cold coil behind his ribs.

The others were still whispering in the kitchen, setting up the surprise. He was supposed to stall you. Make it funny. Light. Silly.

Instead, he walked over and sat beside you like he was approaching a wild animal.

You didn’t even glance at him.

“I, uh…” He cleared his throat. “Turns out I’m bad at jokes.”

Nothing.

He reached into his jacket, pulled out a slightly crumpled piece of paper, and held it up between you.

On it was a blue tiger in a party hat, holding a crooked balloon.

“…I panicked.”

You blinked at it.

“I was gonna write a speech,” he added. “But Derpy said they should go first.”

You bit your lip.

He turned the paper around to show the back: ‘I’m sorry. I forgot birthdays are supposed to feel safe.’

You didn’t cry.

But you did lean into his side, and when his arm came around your shoulders, it stayed there the rest of the night.

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

💪 Abby

You smiled when they finally brought the cake out. Said thank you. Took pictures.

But it wasn’t real.

Abby saw it in the way you didn’t meet his eyes. How your shoulders stayed stiff even when Romance hugged you. How your smile dropped the second you thought no one was looking.

It hit him like a weight to the chest.

So that night — after the others fell asleep — he knocked on your door with flour still on his shirt and batter in his hair.

In his arms: a lopsided cake, hand-mixed, hand-frosted, covered in tiny icing biceps and hearts.

“I didn’t know how to say sorry,” he said. “So I… baked my feelings.”

You opened the door wider.

He stepped in, sheepish. “We didn’t mean to hurt you. It was supposed to be funny. But I forgot that sometimes, when people forget things for real... it leaves a mark.”

You touched the cake with two fingers. It was warm.

“I promise next year I’ll start at midnight,” he said. “And the year after that. And every year you let me.”

You leaned into his chest. He smelled like vanilla and guilt.

“I’m still eating this,” you mumbled.

“You better,” he whispered.

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

📚 Mystery

You weren’t answering your texts. You hadn’t come back out after the cake. The others figured you were tired. Maybe overwhelmed. They didn’t see the look in your eyes when they all shouted surprise.

But Mystery saw it.

He waited until the dorm was quiet. Then he stood outside your door with the untouched cake in his arms, second-guessing everything.

Then he stepped inside, locked eyes with you where you sat on the bed, and without a word—

Face. First. Into. The. Cake.

You gasped. “Mystery?!”

He pulled back, frosting dripping off his face and bangs sticking to his cheekbones like tragedy spaghetti.

“I regret everything,” he deadpanned.

You stared. He stared back, totally serious.

“…What was that for?”

“I hurt you,” he said. “And I don’t know how to say sorry without exploding. So I exploded into dessert.”

You cracked.

Laughed so hard you nearly doubled over. He handed you a fistful of frosting like an offering.

“I’m not eating that.”

“It’s red velvet.”

You paused. Then took it.

“Don’t ever do that again,” you said.

He wiped his face on your sleeve and leaned into your side. “Never.”

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

💋 Romance

Romance always had a plan.

Outfits. Timing. Candle positions. He made you think he forgot on purpose. He wanted to surprise you with something massive.

But when he saw you alone on the balcony after dark, arms wrapped around your knees, face slack and tired — the plan didn’t matter.

He stepped inside. Grabbed the emergency envelope he’d hidden in case his original plan flopped.

He handed it to you without a word.

Inside: A stack of coupons. Homemade. Hand-doodled.

“1 forehead kiss” “1 free back rub (15 mins, no flirting unless requested)” “1 custom compliment “1 ‘you’re right and I was wrong’ token “1 song, sung badly but with heart”

“…You made me coupons?”

“Hand-cut.”

“Romance—”

“I didn’t forget. But I forgot what forgetting feels like.”

Your lip wobbled.

He opened the top coupon and read it aloud.

“‘One forehead kiss.’ Redeeming now.”

He leaned forward, kissed you right between the brows, and said softly:

“You’re unforgettable. I’m sorry I made you feel like anything less.”

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

🔥 Baby

You smiled during the surprise.

A small, brittle smile.

And Baby knew something was off. You didn’t tease him once. Didn’t steal a bite of his cake. Didn’t ask if he’d forgotten just to annoy him.

That was what hit him hardest.

So later, when the dorm had gone quiet, he dragged you into the hallway, eyes serious.

“We’re never doing that again.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You were the one who said it’d be funny.”

“I was wrong. That sucked.”

You blinked.

He reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out a tiny handmade bracelet — uneven knots, woven beads, an awkward little charm that looked like a flame.

“I call it the Birthday Blood Oath.”

You squinted. “What’s the oath?”

“If anyone makes you cry on your birthday again — including me — it activates. Glows red. I immediately destroy the person responsible. No questions asked.”

“…You made this today?”

“Tied it with my teeth. Took two tries.”

You stared. Then slipped it on.

“Fine. But you owe me a second cake.”

“I’ll make five.”

“And not spicy this time.”

“…Two.”

You smiled.

He smiled harder.

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

M-List

[logysworld]

watch from the sidelines

paige bueckers x fem!reader | 2.2k words

summary: you’re injured and forced to watch everyone play without you, paige’s bond with aziaha deepens, you’re hurt.

no warnings!

last week, you slipped - again. there was a sharp squeak as your foot caught the paint on the court and then you were down, weight collapsing right onto your bad leg. you didn’t cry or scream, just hissed through clenched teeth as the familiar pain bloomed through your right kneecap.

paige was at your side before the sound of your fall had fully echoed. her hands hovered inches from the skin on your leg, anxious but gentle, like if she got any closer she’d make it worse.

“hey, hey..”

her voice was a whisper.

“stand for me, please.”

you couldn’t.

“you’re okay, it’s okay..”

a lie.

“i got you.”

the gym faded out - the buzz of sneakers and chatter all dulled as the pain came into full focus. you blinked fast, willing the pain to pass but the throb only spread deeper.

when the nurse rushed over it felt like background noise. your brain locked onto the way paige’s thumb brushed the side of your hand, anchoring you.

aziaha slipped under your other arm, voice low and steady as she helped carry you towards the bench. chris stood midcourt just watching. when your blurry gaze found his, he sighed hard and shook his head, turning away, already running worst-case scenarios through his head. nai looked at you with a curious eye, a ‘you okay?’ kind of look, and you nodded yes.

the nurse was cool and quick when you sat down on the bench. she pressed her fingers into and around your kneecap, asking questions as she went along.

“where does it hurt?”

“everywhere.”

paige crouched on the bench next to you as the nurse continued to examine you, one hand resting on your lower back. aziaha stood next to her, grabbing paige’s shoulder like she needed steadying.

“let her work,” chris said, walking over. “you two, back on the court.”

paige’s head snapped up, “wait-“

“nope, cmon. let her breathe paige.”

paige looked at you hesitantly, waiting for you to give a reason for her to stay. but you didn’t wanna hold her back.

“it’s okay guys.” you said.

paige nodded and stood up slowly, her hand stroking your back as she went, a silent reassurance. and then, she turned away, aziaha walking beside her as they got back on the court.

they settled into a passing drill together. paige gave the ball a spin, then fired it towards aziaha with the snap of her wrist. she caught it clean and they exchanged something you couldn’t hear. a smile, a joke, they laughed together and fell into a rhythm.

it wasn’t really jealousy, more dull. it was nobody’s fault but your own that you chose to feel irked by something so small.

paige didn’t look at you as she played, she was in her element with the ball in her hands. watching the two of them laugh together under the court lights, your chest tightened. you’re supposed to be her duo.

that was practice, and now? you’re still benched for indiana. the pain had already subsided. but you’re not in the tunnel with the others, not running out under the lights, not lacing up.

you’re wrapped in your dallas hoodie on the sideline, legs outstretched with one bound in a black brace that hugs the joint tight. your hand smooths over the brace, like it’ll heal instantly with the pressure.

the crowd roars as names are called, and paige gets the loudest pop. 20,000 fans, historical. you should be on the floor, soaking it all in. instead, you’re swallowed by it.

you inhale and it almost stings, a mixture of pride and jealousy rising in your chest like smoke. the arena feels too big from this angle, too bright.

chris steps beside you.

he doesn’t look down when he talks.

“back at practice tomorrow, yeah?”

you squeeze your eyes shut and nod.

the team rolls out onto the court but for now you keep your head down. everything still feels slow and you hate it, watching like you’re stuck behind a glass pane just forced to observe.

chris calls out the names of the starters and you finally open your eyes to look at the court. paige is locked in already, lips pressed tight and head nodding at something arike said. then, her eyes flick towards you, just briefly. you give her a half smile, one that doesn’t touch your eyes,and she returns it, looking away just as fast.

the first few possessions are clunky, both teams feeling eachother out, but then something clicks. paige stands at the center of the court - tall and calm. she bounces the ball once, twice, then seamlessly threads a pass to aziaha cutting in from the wing.

you know that pass, you’ve caught it hundreds of times. but it’s not you this time, she’s throwing it to someone else.

aziaha drains the mid-rage, easy and fluid. the arena erupts.

paige jogs back on defense with a grin, bumping aziaha’s shoulder as they fall into step. it’s a natural chemistry, you think to yourself.

the bench explodes.

but you don’t blink.

by the second quarter, indiana is running the game. dallas is trailing by 20 and it seems like its only getting worse.

but, paige starts heating up.

she crosses over once, splitting two defenders, and finishes through contact. light work for her. the crowd screams, but she doesn’t smile yet, she’s too dialed in.

when she turns to run back, her eyes flash to you on the bench clapping for her, and she finally smiles.

your stomach twists.

the ball is moving faster now, and on the next play, paige swings it across the court without even looking - right into aziaha’s hands. another bucket.

they run at each-other and shout, grinning ear to ear, hands on each others shoulders.

nai leans towards you and hums in a suspicious tone.

“hmmmm. aziaha’s getting close, huh?” her eyebrow arches up.

“don’t starttt, nai.”

her voice drops to a whisper,

“what!? you got nothing to worry about anyway. she doesn’t look at anyone the way she looks at you.”

“but we aren’t even..”

“even…..???” she quirks.

you face her and attempt to look serious.

“focus on the game, dijonai.”

in a second you both start laughing, hands flying to your mouths to stifle the giggles, but you’ve both been caught on the big screen. oops..

but now, you feel better - the occasional tease from teammates on you and paige is kind of comforting, even when you don’t know what it is yet.

you didn’t join the huddle in the lockers at half time, instead you were dragged away by trainers into the empty room just across. they asked you the general questions, how you’re holding up, does it hurt here? what about here? how’s the swelling?

you answered mindlessly, attention drawn to the sound of paiges laughter. the locker room door is cracked open just enough.

paige is loud and breathless when she speaks. it comes out muffled due to the distance.

“z, that play was all you.”

it hurts more than it should.

by the last quarter, everyone is gassed. earlier, paige made another seamless play with aziaha and they bumped shoulders again, paige reached up to ruffle her hair. its still hitting you now, the jealousy clouding your judgement of the game.

paige is at 27, still clawing for points in her last few minutes. she’s carrying the team on shaky legs, and you can see the stiffness clearer whenever she stills on the court. at one point you both glance at eachother and her jaw flexes. it yanks you back to a memory, like a string tied to your ribs.

-

you’re half in her lap, half on the couch in her apartment. there’s game film playing on the tv but it’s muted, the light casted from it flickers over her face. you weren’t talking, you didn’t really need to, that’s how it always is.

her fingers danced on your thigh. she was the first to lean in - as usual. she kissed you with a lazy, practiced confidence. soft and familiar, with no trace of hesitation.

her hands found your jaw and your hands twisted into her sweater. the kiss deepened but stayed slow, neither of you were in a rush.

at some point you just were resting on her shoulder, and she returned to running a thumb along your thigh absentmindedly.

no questions. no confusion. this was what you did, and it felt normal, it had been your normal for weeks.

-

you’re brought out of the memory by the buzz of the crowd. the wings can’t close the gap and the fever have now basically pulled the win for good. chris pulls paige out with four minutes left and she jogs toward the bench.

there’s a cold towel to her neck, jersey clinging to her body with sweat. you can’t help but stare. she walks slowly towards you and doesn’t sit down immediately. you catch each others eyes and just stare.

“i wish you were out there.” she says, softly, just for you.

your throat tightens.

“yeah, me too.”

post-game you stay seated long after the crowd dissapears, your knee feels stiffer, heavier. in the locker room, there’s a humming but nobody is saying much, not after a loss like that. your arms rest on your knees and you let your head rest on the locker rooms bench.

across from you, paige pulls her shirt over her head, muscles taut and still glistening from the game. she’s quiet too, focused on stretching her wrists and arms.

she hasn’t looked at you since the game ended, but you’ve felt her orbit around you. like she’s waiting for you to say something, to tell her what’s wrong.

you want to be mad, jealous, distant. all of it, but instead? you feel small, tired and left out. alone in a kind of way that paige only seems to notice.

when the room clears out you start to zip up your bag, and suddenly she’s there.

paige drops to sit next to you, gently prying your hand away from the strap of your bag. her hands are warm and they adjust to hold both of your own. her body faces you.

your eyes meet.

finally you spoke. “you played so good.”

she smiled but brushed off the compliment.

“I missed you out there today.” her voice low. she wasn’t just referring to your playing presence, but just the real you. today, you were quiet, tense. not as loud for the team as you’d usually be. not as obvious with your cheers and game talk. this whole injury had you thinking about what you really meant to the team, maybe more so to paige.

you laugh, short and somewhat bitter.

“you say that like it means something.”

“it does.”

she’s still holding your hands, fingers brushing yours. you look at her flushed face, hair a little messy and curled at the base of her neck, the towel still draped on her shoulders.

you stare back, vulnerable and tired, terrified to ask what this is or what you are to her.

“i don’t know what im allowed to feel.” you whisper.

“you’re not mine, but i can’t. i felt sick watching you play with her. i felt like I wasn’t a part of anything, i hated it.”

she knew you were talking about aziaha, and she pressed her lips together. processing, understanding.

“should i be jealous? like- i don’t know. can i feel like that. is it that serious? i’m sorry, i’m being weird.”

paige doesn’t flinch, she doesn’t look uncomfortable or caught off guard.

“you’re not being weird, baby.” she says softly.

“you’re stressed and hurt. I know I was with aziaha the whole game, and I know watching that hurt because I feel it too when I watch you play without me.” her hand moves to cup your cheek and you lean into it without thinking. the ache in your knee, the roar of the crowd, aziaha on her hip all game, it all disappears.

“i was thinking about you the whole time. every pass and shot, i was thinking about you. you’re not out of this. I get it.”

you look at her through your lashes, embarrassed but loving. you want this with paige, you want to go further. you want everyone to know she’s yours, and you are hers.

she speaks again, this time her voice a rare shy tone. “do you wanna come home with me? we don’t have to do anything or like… yeah.. let’s just talk. about all of it, us. or not? whatever you want.” she rushes the last part, a red blush flooding the tips of her ears.

you lean into her and smile. “yeah, I do.”

her forehead pressed against yours and she smiles back. then, she kisses you. unhurried and meaningful, her hand resting on the skin of your neck and jaw.

then - a cough.

you both look to the door at once.

arike stands in the doorway, holding her water bottle like a mic with her mouth dropped open but smirking.

“oh! my bad guys.” she says, grinning.

“didn’t mean to interrupt the post-game press conference..”

you all laugh, but you drop your head in your hands. paige groans quietly and leans her head on your knee.

“training tomorrow will be fun.”

————————————————————

this like one of my first attempts at a fic and also in wnba so hope yall like it please leave requests my brain does not go well when it comes to having ideas 🥲

#paiguebueckerswillsaveusall

[caprisunisgud]

I feel like I'd love to be taken on a date where we have a picnic lunch under a shady tree 😊

Don't really know what this means tbh

Affirmations and physical affection. I've been really badly touch starved recently, but I still remember how these things feel, and I miss them

Single and yearning, fr

A few, don't really remember them too well

Anybody who makes me feel safe enough to be unhinged around them

Maybe? I'm not sure 🤔

Monsters vs Aliens, I want my date to laugh while we're together

I don't really know flowers

I don't know, but I'd probably give him an experience, like dinner somewhere he likes or tickets to something he wanted to go to, like a movie or concert

Don't really have one

I love (miss, rather) physical affection and words of affirmation. I want to feel warm

I've never been called any, but I think "honey" would make me flustered. Also, being called "good boy" in a non-cringe way would have me SWEATING

Not often, but yes

Doom Slayer, Gwyndolin the Dark Moon (technically gender-fluid but I'm including him anyway), Solaire of Astora, Minos Prime, and several others I can't remember

Probably quiet boys, as I'm quiet and don't like loud people, but not as introverted as me

Sonic the Hedgehog, of course. My boy Solaire. I think that the Chosen Undead is canonically male, so I think Solaire's flirt in Anor Londo tells us exactly where he falls

Spaghetti. Fun to make and I can eat an entire box in one sitting if I season it good

The world looks red, Ultrakill

I'll just put a screenshot here;

I think I'd like forehead the most. I'm a bit uncomfortable with the concept of kisses on the lips, I'm self-conscious about my dental health

Scalp massage. I want to be laying on top of him with my head on his chest and I'm probably sleeping and he's doing this while just admiring me (I'm so fucking lonely dude)

Keanu Reeves 🥰 I'm not into him because he's attractive (he is), I like him because he's such a good guy

Loafing around and watching random shit

I'd wanna keep that to a minimum, but hand holding would be nice :)

Sitting with me and rubbing my back while I'm crying in the fetal position. He doesn't even need to say anything, I just wish someone would stay with me through my breakdowns and not walk away (this has happened so many times. I don't need time to "wind down" on my own, I need a fucking hug)

Physical touch. With my irl best buddy, he always wears beanies, and he has this one with a poff on the top, so I always try to grab it. That, and shoulder touches

Little spoon, all the way. It's my curse as someone who's 6 foot to be expected to be the big spoon. NO, I wanna be held and feel safe and warm in someone's big strong arms >:(

I feel like I already am the robot I picture myself as in my head. I'm largely unfeeling, I'm always cold, I don't have anyone to lean on. What I feel I need is the spark of someone real, someone to make me warm, to make me feel alive.

Anyway, time to tag the mooties :D (yes, all of them, idgaf)

@emptiest--sink @vanillaveil @cartoonmadness2230 @renekoyuki @thatknifeanon @spashadow @loser-37 @moonblossuhmm @lethal-spaceship @simp4diobrando @beyerstatic @blackenedbleeding @carcan64 @yourfavvvintj

mlm ask game!

1. ideal date location?

2. favorite mlm song?

3. what makes you feel loved?

4. are you single or taken?

5. how many crushes have you had?

6. what's your type?

7. do you develop crushes quickly?

8. best show or movie for a date night at home?

9. what are your favorite flowers?

10. what would you give as a gift on an anniversary?

11. what's your favorite album?

12. what's your love language?

13. what are some pet names that make you blush?

14. do you read fanfiction?

15. any fictional crushes?

16. loud boys or quiet boys?

17. any characters you headcanon as mlm?

18. what's your comfort food?

19. last song you listened to?

20. best compliment you ever received?

21. kiss on the lips, cheek or forehead?

22. scalp massage or back massage?

23. any celebrity crushes?

24. what's your guilty pleasure?

25. do you like PDA?

26. how do you prefer to be comforted?

27. favorite way to express affection?

28. big spoon or little spoon?

29. freebie! ask or prompt to share something random

[chevxyn]

just saw a dad that lets his daughter throw water balloons at him and im ab to cry as a daughter that’s dad would do the same -> anyways, here’s family guy sae for you. (f!reader)

thinking of.. husband & girl dad! sae when his wife is out of the house.

when you told sae you were pregnant, he had hoped for a son to continue his legacy as a football player. but when the gender revealed that the baby was a girl, his emotions was mixed.

he wasn’t sure what he felt, all his plans was for a son— but once he learned that he was having a daughter, he suddenly felt lost and empty.

not because he didn’t want her, but because he felt unprepared, he was so sure it was gonna be a boy that he’s scared he’ll be a terrible father when it’s a girl.

so when the baby arrived— his first look at her changed his life, she was so small, so delicate. yet when they gave him her little body wrapped in a blanket, all of his facade of coldness turned into warmth.

and so here they are— “papa,” your daughter muttered as she went to her father’s office as he is currently watching the last game’s highlights on his laptop.

she climbed onto his lap and looked up at him— sae paused the video and raised his eyebrow at her, “hm?”

“miya can’t sleep.” she blinked a few times, “mama isn’t here— miya wanna watch and stay with papa.” she mumbled and sae let out a small chuckle.

his darling four year old girl is supposed to be asleep by now, and you were out to buy some groceries and necessities for them— but he couldn’t say no to a face like that.

he had always spoiled his daughter, everything she wants— what she requests, he will get; that is how much he loves her.

“what do you wanna watch?” his tone was softer to the child, as she took the mouse and keyboard— before typing nonsense, “uh..”

seeing that when she entered it took her to random videos, she looks up to her father with her big eyes, "papa's videos."

"you like papa's videos that much?" he asked and the child nodded, "mama likes papa, therefore miya likes papa." his heart swore it melt.

"so if mama doesn't like papa, miya won't like papa too?" he asked and miya frowned, realizing what she said, "no.. that's not what miya said."

seeing the frown on his daughter's face, sae kissed her forehead and held her closer in his arms, "papa knows, just joking.”

he opened the youtube tab and searched his name, after a while— miya clicked on a video and watched it.

seeing how serious her father was, she would giggle when he said something that could come out as rude, “why was papa like that?”

“papa wasn’t with your mama yet.” he simply said and miya blinked, “papa is super evil,” she said, as sae let out a chuckle.

they watched a couple of other videos with eachother until the creak of the door opened, and you were standing there.

“so this is where the two of you went.” you said and went to them, hugging them close from behind. “and little lady, aren’t you supposed to be in bed?”

“mama! miya can’t sleep.” she frowned, whining— sae looking up at you, “just let her stay up for a while.” he said and grabbed onto your hand and kissed the top of it.

seeing that, you couldn’t help but let out a small giggle— taking the other seat and sitting down next to him, as miya went to your hold.

“i guess i can let you off the afternoon bedtime.” you smiled and miya gave a excited look and a kiss on your cheek. “is this both of your ways persuasion?”

“nuh uh!” she innocently said as your husband shrugged, “yeah right.” sae let out a small chuckle at the three of you— and the small bantering you created.

“i got some snacks in the living room by the way.” you said and miya’s eyes lights up before wriggling away out of your arms, “miya wants some! can i? can i?”

you raised your eyebrow and smirked, “go there and find out yourself.” and almost instantly she goes out of the room to find the snacks.

you stood up the same time as your husband did, “you let off the afternoon sleep?” you looked at sae and he just held you from behind by the waist and kisses the your jawline. “it’s just one day, besides— sooner or later she won’t have that bedtime anymore.”

you playfully rolled your eyes at that and he just chuckled, “she grows up so fast doesn’t she?” you muttered as he held you closer, “she does.”

how he wouldn’t trade this family for the world.

last post before i go to sleep -> tmrw im releasing another part of “fortunate meetings” | istg i miss my dad sm now | wrote this in 40 mins & not proofread (this prolly sucks tbh)

©chevxyn

[usagimygoatfr]

us - daniela avanzini x reader

synopsis: your girlfriend daniela is acting weird

☆ミ mentions of trauma if you squint, deception

wc: 481

it was weird at first.

daniela was never clingy towards you before she got lost at the fair. she genuinely gagged at the thought of her hugging you in public and vice versa to the point that it offended you sometimes because she is your girlfriend. granted, daniela's not clingy in nature, and she did preface before agreeing to be your girlfriend that PDA was off the tables. the best she will offer is hand holding and that's it. but when daniela got lost in the fair for almost half a day and came back all clingy, you didn't know what to do.

you asked her multiple times what happened when she got lost; according to her words, she didn't. apparently she was just wandering around the house of mirrors and got lost track of time. nothing tragic happened, just a lot of head bumping on mirrors. daniela told you countless of times that she didn't hit her head that hard or that anything traumatic happened to her. she just simply got lost in the house of mirrors.

a month or so passed after the incident, and you are starting to get used to her clinginess. it was still a little unnerving, if you were being honest. daniela suddenly clinging on to you whenever you two are passing by the park. she even dragged you in a photo booth and kissed you at the last frame. you nearly blew your head off because that was the first kiss you shared.

you started noticing something off about daniela when she thinks you're not looking—the way she holds her mug the wrong way, her eyes always wandering whenever you two are out, and worst of all, your dog stewie, the same dog who loves daniela more than you, is now growling at her whenever she comes over. you thought it was just a coincidence, that stewie just so happened to smell a different scent because daniela did say that there were a lot of people that were also lost in the house of mirrors for hours. you gave it the benefit of the doubt. then another day, and another, and another, until you couldn't take the growling anymore and had to put stewie outside whenever daniela would come over.

you thought you were just overreacting, because why wouldn't you be? it's daniela for crying out loud! your girlfriend. the love of your life. maybe it was best if you just accept the fact that there will be minor changes in her personality. after all, she didn't mind when it happened to you.

so you did.

you didn't mind anymore that stewie was growling outside your house because daniela was over. you didn't mind when daniela was all over you. you didn't mind that you know that she wasn't the real daniela anymore.

at least now, the real you and the real daniela are finally together.

an: this ain't it. had the idea at three in the morning and it's not giving. inspired by the movie 'Us' by jordan peele. amazing movie :)

[jackrabbit-fandom]

Lets do jinu next!

I'll do platonic and romantic, just like bobbys cause i think its nice to have both.

Gn reader but mentions of feminine things.

Platonic:

- in a more platonic setting, i feel like he'd act somewhat like a big brother? Weve seen hes alot more caring then he fully likes to show

- goofy fucker, pulls harmless little pranks like holding something over your head if your shorter then him, he'll sometimes pick on you if he thinks the outfit you have is a bit goofy (choo choo)

- i feel like if you asked for a hug, he'd be so awkward? It's just an awkward side hug, but at the same time, they'd feel so nice....

- though if you're more upset about something, you get an actual hug, hed pull you into his chest, and hug you tightly, trying to help

- somewhat a good listener, not the best at giving advice or comforting, though ( "...there there" *awkward shoulder pat*) though it somewhat depends on the situation

- in the "hes a bit like a big brother" situation, i feel like he'd feel so guilty about the little sister he left behind and be so protective and careing towards you.

- hes a old man. He's 400 years old and probably has no freaking clue what a period is, so you'd probably have to explain it to him. Hed tries his best, though

- like i said, bro is old. He probably had quite a few culture shocks, but i dont see him being like a jerk about them? "What's trans? Oh, so you were this, but you're this now? Alright" stuff like that. Hed probably be shocked to see a woman in pants tbh. Though....hed probably be shocked by all modern clothes at first.

- he probably did like a ton of research before starting the saja boys, let's be honest here, watch bts/txt/stray kids/etc videos to figure out how this kpop thing works

- an extra, just cause. I dont think demons normally remember their names if they were originally humans. The only reason i think jinu remembers his' because it's one of the last things he heard his sister say. Enjoy that

Romantic:

- hes a dork, we saw that, massive loser. He tries so hard to be cool and smooth, but he just can't (*leans on a door frame* hi- *immediately falls*) he tries his best thought and thats what counts right?

- He does get quite a bit better the longer you're together though, hes very observant, so he memories what you like and dont like. It probably took him a while, but he even learned to tell when you're upset, too, and can immediately start trying to cheer you up.

- weather hes cut off from gwi-ma or not, he still probably has so much guilt over his mother and sister, i can imagine him having days where he's just spacing out and staring into space. He tries to keep it to himself, but its always nice to have a shoulder to lean on ya know?

- Hed probably comes to you when he's working on songs. "How's this sound? What beat do you think would fit here?" That kinda stuff. I imagine he writes most of the songs. In an au where he and the boys (let me be delusional that they aint dead) are cut off from gwi-ma, i imagine they are still a little band and pretend everything was some stunt

- .....hed probably get annoyed at mainly romance and abby. Kmowing them, they'd think its funny to flirt with you to tick him off, hey thats what you get for making them use 'stupid' names. Baby would probably do it too for this same reason

- i don't see him as being super jealous, possessiveness comes with being a demon, though. Hes just really good at hiding it, later on though hes nkt leaving you alone, holding your hand or just being clingy

- speaking of, the guy is severely touched starved, please hold him he may cry but its fine- i think he prefers laying his head on your chest to hear your heart beat

- i don't really think demons sleep, but they can be in a sleep like state? It helps them rest, but their still fully aware. So sometimes he'll just watch you sleep instead, hopefully in a non creepy way but waking up to his glowing eyes is probably horrifying.

That's all for now. If you want more/ spacific ones, let me know, and I'll give them! (This goes for bobby, too)

[demigoddessqueens]

romance headcanons

a/n - bit of sfw & nsfw, 18+, smut, fluff, bob being adorkable, breeding kinks,

buy a coffee ☕️? || masterlist 12

Bob is a bit of a needy lover in the beginning stage, ranging from the clinginess to always touching you in some kind of way (hands, hips, etc)

mood always changes and it unknowingly depends on you: moody and/or more antsy if you’re not there

Fond of going in for a hug instead of anything else, likes to pull you close where you feel his heart hammering in his chest as he nuzzles the top of your head

Wants to be with you for the rest of each others life

be it a conventional marriage, or a something you’ve both created for your own, Bob wouldn’t have it any other way if you’re in it with him

As Sentry, sure he’s prone to a bit more of the jealousy phases because no one can compare to him, and even you’re too good for you

in that case, sometimes the Void rears its ugly head with his insecurities, but you nearby squashes the mantra of “they’ll never stay with you…”

You agreeing to forever be a part of his life is the happiest memory he’s ever had

his voice and words are weighed the heaviest with emotion

swears he wasn’t crying but the eyes never lie with that gleam of emotion shining through

Sometimes every day feels like the honeymoon phase, even so much as being in sync with each other during fights with intruders you have your own flirty banter

Now on the more smutty side….oh he’s a whole experience™️

breeding kink, cock warming, teasing, hair pulling, you name it

Anything that ever has where he explicitly sees and hears how he makes you feel—oh it sets his body on fire

If…, however, you were to fall with a bun in the oven, it’s a rollercoaster of emotions for him from ecstatic to 🫨

“What if—what if I’m horrible….like my father?”

holding his hand with a firm affirmation, you pour into those watery eyes as you reassure him.

“Bobby, you will never be anything like him.”

Over the next few months, he’s constantly checking on you; always getting whatever you need even with the weird cravings and always making sure you’re comfortable

if you tell him what you’re thinking of for names, maybe something that includes his mother’s name or something endearing, be prepared for some major water works

[starlit-sanguine]

I'm but a simple man <3

TAGGING: @askewhammer @purple-jackett

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

𝚂𝙺𝙸𝙿𝚂 𝚂𝙷𝙰𝙳𝙻𝙴𝚈 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝙳𝙲𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽𝚂

✂--- He has a ton of piercings, Snake bites, eyebrow piercings, tongue piercings, his lobes are stretched to a 8.25mm and he will not shut up about how much he loves them, so proud of how he didn't whine or cry once whilst stretching out his ears even though it was very painful. His jewelry is mainly black but sometimes he switches out to silver when he gets bored.

✂--- Big fan of my chemical romance but will never admit because he doesn't want to be called a poser, he'll give a smile and and be like, "Yeah I listen to Type O, and I listen to Pierce the veil." then his tone drops, looking away as blush spreads across his face as he mumbles, "I also like.. MCR and.. Fallout boy.." God he's embarrassed but he will never stop listening because, "hold me tight or don't changed my life"

✂--- Fangs, sorry I always say it but Fangs, not my fault the men I like have sharp teef, But yeah , they're natural and he thinks they're pretty cool actually, when he gets nervous he bites the inside of his cheek and once he did it too hard and pulled the chiikawa crying face for the rest of the day.

✂--- Affectionate!!! His arms are always around you, around your shoulders, or a stray hand on your waist as he shows you a video on his phone, and the names don't stop at "My penumbra" as cute as that is, "My paramour" is one he also loves to use but sometimes he'll just come out with a simple "Lovely" especially when he's tired. head resting on your shoulder, his eyes are closed not really asleep but not quite awake, "Lovely, can we go to bed soon I'm getting tired.."

✂--- Speaking of sleep! He sleeps in an old band shirt he thrifted, and I think he sleeps with a plush of some kind, it can be cute or macabre whatever suits his taste that day, but its usually just a pillow, he needs to hug something in his sleep because he's super clingy.

✂--- Smells like Amber and Musk ♡, has this super dark smell you can't place and whenever you ask he scoffs and smirks, "Oh wouldn't you like to know".. yeah it was probably cheap and he's gatekeeping. but anyhow he smells good.. (MY INTERPRETATION-)

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

last two done by a dear friend of mine @askewhammer

✂--- whenever you bury your face into his hair, it has an almost fluffy, misty sensation against your face, though is is cold. Its almost reminiscent of a nostalgic fall fog.

✂--- secretly puts on feminine perfume and gets SUPER embarrassed once you find out... He can't help but clutch onto that Avril Lavigne Forbidden Rose perfume it's his lifeline 💔

✂--- Steals your t-shirts!! He loves your scent so much it brings him a sense of calm and ease. Also sometimes wesrs on your t-shirts in secret. Who said that

[fireside-fanfics]

Hiiii

Can you do a fic for Joaquin Torres x pregnant reader where shes having a hard time because someone (e.g. family member) is being a terrible person and just hating on the reader for anything and everything regardless of whether shes pregnant or not (imagine MIL from hell)

I got really carried away with this fic and I really enjoyed writing it! I hope you like it!

Our Kind of Love

Cami had always been the middle child; she was the only girl in a house full of loud, chaotic, overprotective brothers. Seven kids. Six boys. One girl with curls too big, feelings too loud, and skin too brown for her mother’s approval. She was Afro-Latina, like her father, who called her Reina and never once tried to shrink her. He taught his kids Spanish by singing boleros during bath time and reading poems by Nicolás Guillén at night. He taught Cami to hold her head high, to take up space, to be proud of all of who she was—even when her mother told her to quiet down or “stop acting like a little man” every time she had an opinion.

Her parents had divorced when she was six right after her baby brother was born. Most of her siblings had stayed with her mom, either by court default or inertia. But even then, even that young, Cami had drifted toward her father’s house like a flower finding sunlight. At first it was just weekends. Then school nights. Then most of the week. By the time she hit middle school, she lived there full-time.

Her mom didn’t fight it, didn’t beg her to stay, didn’t cry or question or even flinch. She just let Cami go, but the absence of custody wasn’t the absence of cruelty. Even from a distance, her mother knew how to reach for her with claws hidden in polite smiles. Phone calls full of backhanded compliments. Family parties with cutting remarks in front of cousins. Snide comments about her hair, her laugh, her “attitude,” and later, about the kind of men she dated—until Joaquín finally asked her to be his girlfriend when they were 22.

Joaquín had been her best friend since pre-K. He saw through her silence long before anyone else did. His family had welcomed her in without question: fed her, hugged her, slipped her inside jokes and bendiciones and warmth like it was second nature. His mom called her mija by the third sleepover. His dad taught her how to make tamarindo juice and grilled her about her favorite books. They were the first adults besides her dad who made her feel safe.

She enlisted in the Air Force with Joaquín the minute they graduated high school, like they'd always promised each other they would. They made it through basic, through their first deployment, through dust storms and sleepless nights and letters home that never arrived on time. And when they got back, nineteen and alive and exhausted and full of a different kind of ache, they finally stopped pretending they weren’t in love.

Cami didn’t slam doors. She never raised her voice, never snapped back. She just took it. She didn’t allow herself to react the way her body begged her to—because growing up with a mother like hers had taught her early: emotion was ammunition. And her mom? She never missed a shot. So when Cami—nearly eight months pregnant, jaw tight and hands shaking—stepped through the door of the apartment she shared with Joaquín and gently clicked the door shut behind her, Joaquín immediately knew something was wrong.

He looked up from where he sat cross-legged on the nursery floor, crib instructions in one hand, Allen wrench in the other. 

“Hey, hermosa,” Joaquín said softly. “Everything alright?”

Cami didn’t answer. She slipped off her shoes mechanically, eyes not meeting his, then moved straight toward the kitchen without a word.

Joaquín stood, setting the wrench down carefully before following her. He called after her, “Cami? What’s going on?”

She was standing by the sink, both hands braced on the counter like she was trying to keep the whole world from tilting.

“I shouldn’t have gone,” she said finally, voice low. “I knew better. I knew better.”

“Your mom?”

Cami gave a humorless laugh and muttered, “She’s still her. No matter how much I wish she wasn’t.”

She turned, eyes glassy now, and Joaquín immediately reached for her. Her arms folded tightly across her chest. She leaned into him without hesitation, burying her face in his chest as the first tear slipped loose.

“She said I looked bloated. Said you probably weren’t sticking around long, that no man wants to ‘deal with a woman like me for long anyway.’ Said the baby was probably an accident. That I’ll ‘hopefully be a better mother than I was a daughter.’”

Without a word, Joaquín wrapped both arms around her, pulling her into his chest. His hands pressed flat against her back like he could hold her together by force. Like if he anchored her hard enough, maybe the words wouldn’t sink in so deep. Maybe they’d just slide off his skin instead of carving their way under hers. She trembled against him, shoulders barely shaking but enough for him to feel. Enough for him to know she was unraveling in silence, the way she always did when it got too much.

“I’ve got you, mi amor,” he whispered, lips brushing the shell of her ear. “She doesn’t get to hurt you like this anymore.”

Cami didn’t answer right away, just let out a breath that sounded too much like surrender. She buried her face into the crook of his neck, hiding from the world in the only place that had ever felt safe. And Joaquín held her tighter, as if he could absorb the years of pain she carried. As if he could replace all the damage with the love he had for her—fierce, stubborn, and unconditional.

He didn’t know how to undo what had been done, but he knew how to stay and he wasn’t going anywhere.

“I thought maybe the baby would change something,” she whispered, finally breaking the silence. “Maybe she’d finally see me as enough.”

“Camila, she doesn’t get to define you. Not anymore. She never did.”

“I know that,” she whispered, “but I still feel it.”

Joaquín gently tilted Cami’s chin up with one hand, his thumb swiping beneath her eyes.

“She doesn’t get to hurt you like this anymore,” he said quietly. “You’re not a child trying to earn her love. You’re a grown woman building a beautiful life. You’re growing our son, Cami. You’re the bravest person I know.”

She looked down at her belly, then back up at him. “It still feels like I’m failing. Like I must have done something wrong if she hates me this much.”

“No, baby, she hates that you survived without her. That you got out. That you didn’t shrink yourself to stay small enough for her comfort. And I hate that she’s made you feel like being you isn’t enough.” Joaquín kissed her and pressed his forehead to hers. “Because I’ve known you almost my whole life. And I swear to God, you’re everything.”

Cami swallowed hard and leaned further into him, seeking the kind of comfort only he ever seemed able to give. Her arms wound tightly around his torso, clutching him with a desperation that made his ribs ache—but Joaquín didn’t flinch. He just held her tighter, one hand cradling the back of her head while the other threaded gently through her curls, slow and steady.

Her fingers slipped beneath the hem of his hoodie, brushing over the familiar fabric of his compression tank. She traced slow, looping patterns across his back—an old habit, instinctive and grounding. It was something she’d done for years without thinking, a quiet language between them. A way of anchoring herself when everything else felt like it was spiraling. A way of saying thank you without needing the words.

Joaquín didn’t speak anymore. He just let her draw whatever she needed from him, his steady warmth a silent vow: he was here. He wasn’t going anywhere. Her lip trembled again, but this time she didn’t cry. Cami just nodded slowly, like she was finally allowing herself to believe him.

“I’m done trying,” she whispered. “For real this time.”

“You don’t have to go back,” he said. “You don’t have to ever make space for someone who uses your vulnerability as a weapon.”

Her lungs filled with air like she was bracing for a storm, and she let it out in one long, trembling sigh.

“Good,” he said softly. “Because you’ve got a family right here. One that sees you. One that’s gonna show our kid what love looks like—not conditional, not twisted, not cruel. Just real and safe and supportive and honest.”

Cami rested her hand on her belly, where their son kicked lightly in agreement.

“I used to wish she was more like my dad,” she said after a moment. “But now? I think I’m just gonna be him. For our baby. Everything she wasn’t.”

Joaquín smiled, soft and full of pride. “You already are, querida.”

In that quiet, exhausted, love-drenched kitchen, surrounded by half-built cribs and years of hard-won trust, Cami finally let herself feel what her mother never gave her: enough, whole, and loved, exactly as she was.

The following night Joaquín had an important work meeting with Sam that he couldn’t back out of so Cami assured him she’d be fine with her brothers. Cami sat tucked into the corner of Danny’s giant sectional sofa, a heating pad under her lower back and a glass of ginger ale sweating on the coaster in front of her. Eight months pregnant and worn down to the bone, she still managed to be the calmest person in the room, which wasn’t saying much—because her brothers were pissed.

“I need you to say it again,” Danny said, pacing like a caged tiger. “Word for word. I want to make sure I’m furious about the correct things.”

“Danny,” Luis groaned, already rubbing his temples.

“No, no—let her talk—because I swear to God, if she said what I think she said—”

“She said I looked puffy. That Joaquín is gonna leave me once the baby is here. That the baby was probably an accident. And,” Cami took a breath, then exhaled slowly, “that maybe I’ll be a better mother than I was a daughter.”

Silence. A full three seconds of thunderous, choking silence.

Then Isaiah muttered, “The audacity of that woman could power a whole city block.”

“She’s so lucky I got soft in my old age,” Julian said from his seat on the floor. “Back in the day, I would’ve shown up with a boombox, a list of grievances, and a baseball bat.”

“I’ve still got that bat,” Danny growled. “Just say the word.”

Cami rolled her eyes affectionately. “You’re all a mess.”

“We’re a mess?” Elijah finally spoke up from the kitchen bar, where he’d been quietly fixing himself a third plate of empanadas. “Cam, she’s lucky she lives in a no-contact state with common sense laws, because I’d legally lose all chill.”

Luis nodded and asked, “You remember when she tried to ground you senior year for wearing hoops that she bought you? Like she wasn’t the one who gave them to you for your birthday and called them ‘elegant’?”

“I remember,” Cami assured him, a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. “I wore them to prom anyway.”

“My rebel queen,” Isaiah said, raising his bottle of Jarritos in a toast.

Elijah finally walked over and sat beside her, pulling her in with an arm around her shoulders.

“You know what I wish?” he asked.

“Tell me.”

“I wish she’d said that shit with me there—just once—because I would’ve gone full telenovela. I would’ve flipped a table. Cried. Collapsed dramatically. You know I’ve been waiting to do that in real life.”

Cami’s laughter spilled out before she could stop it, real and light. She collapsed gently against Elijah’s shoulder, shoulders shaking with the kind of joy that felt like a surprise.

“God, I missed that laugh,” Julian leaned his head back dramatically as he laughed with her.

Luis scooted forward on the carpet, suddenly serious as he said, “Cam. Real talk. What do you need from us now? You cutting her off for good?”

“I am—I have to, Luis,” Cami said, confidence rising in her words. “I told Joaquín last night. I haven’t blocked her yet, because I wanted to talk to you all first. I can’t keep trying just to get sucker-punched every time I breathe. This is it—I’m done.”

Danny nodded immediately. “We’ll back it. Whatever you need. No question.”

“You always do,” she said softly.

“Now we just get louder about it,” Isaiah added. “We don’t let her twist this like she always does.”

“She’s gonna try,” Julian warned. “Cry on Facebook, pull the ‘I’m just a concerned mother’ card. You ready for that?”

“Honestly?” Cami shrugged. “I’ve been holding space for her my whole life. Giving her room to become someone better, but last night I finally realized that she doesn’t want to be better. She just wants control.”

Elijah let out a long breath. “Damn.”

“Yeah,” Cami whispered. “I can’t be the best mother I can be if she’s around or has contact with me. And I don’t want her anywhere near my baby—not if she’s just gonna try to make him feel like I always felt.”

“That won’t happen,” Luis assured her, placing his hand on her arm. “You’re already breaking the cycle just by being conscious of it. You’re giving your son everything we didn’t get from her and more.”

“She doesn’t get to see him. Period,” Danny agreed.

“No pictures, no updates, no access,” Julian added. “We’ll block her from every direction if we have to.”

“And if she shows up in person,” Isaiah said, “we handle it. With manners. Maybe.”

“I’m bringing the bat,” Danny muttered again.

“Dios mío, please don’t bring the bat,” Elijah said.

Cami wiped a tear from her cheek as she laughed, “You guys are ridiculous.”

“You’re our sister,” Luis said simply. “The only one we got.”

“Built-in princess since birth,” Isaiah added.

“Don’t call me that,” Cami muttered.

“I called dibs on Favorite Sibling years ago,” Elijah chimed in. “Don’t make me fight the fetus.”

They all laughed again. The kind of laugh that left you looser in the ribs. That reminded you that no matter how many people tried to make you feel small, there were still some who saw you big.

“You don’t have to carry this alone anymore,” Luis said. “You never did. But now? We’re watching. We’re ready. We’re here.”

Cami looked at the six of them—her loud, loving, fiercely protective, and unapologetically inappropriate brothers—and let herself feel it, fully and without hesitation: she wasn’t the forgotten kid on the sidelines anymore, hoping someone would pick her. She’d been chosen. Claimed without condition. And for the first time in a long time, she knew—deep in her bones—that she was safe.

Cami could already smell the food before she knocked. Rich, warm, and laced with love: cumin, garlic, sofrito, chicken roasting in the oven, rice on the stove. She closed her eyes for a second and just breathed it in.

“You okay, cariño?” Joaquín reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. 

“I think so,” she whispered. “Just… overwhelmed.”

“You don’t have to be strong here,” he said. “Just be you.”

He opened the door and led her inside. The Torres home was always warm—not just in temperature, but in feeling. Soft salsa music played from a speaker tucked into the kitchen corner. Framed photos lined the hallway walls: Joaquín’s high school graduation, his parents at their wedding, his sister Maribel holding a cat that Cami swore had to be immortal by now.

“¡Mija!” came the instant call from the kitchen.

Joaquín’s mother rounded the corner with a dish towel in one hand and a full, beaming smile on her face. She didn’t wait—just pulled Cami into her arms like she'd been gone a year instead of a week. Cami melted into it. She’d been used to this since she was a kid. Since she first came over for a sleepover in third grade and Mrs. Torres made her a second plate of dinner before Cami could ask. Since Joaquín’s father started calling her “hija” during the summer before high school.

“Look at you,” his mother Esperanza said now, pulling back and pressing her palms to Cami’s cheeks. “You’re glowing.”

Cami let out a soft laugh and said, “That might be sweat. I think the baby’s trying to live in my ribs.”

“Then we feed you and cool you down. Come, sit. I made everything you love.”

His mom wasn’t kidding. The kitchen table was covered in all of Cami’s favorite foods. Arroz con pollo, maduros, black beans, fresh avocado with lime. Coconut flan chilled in the fridge. A pitcher of agua fresca glistened with condensation. And in the middle of it all sat Maribel, Joaquín’s younger sister, grinning like she knew a secret.

“I come bearing gifts,” Maribel said, sliding a canvas tote across the table. “I thrifted these the second I saw them. And yes, I cried at the shark onesie.”

Cami opened the bag slowly, one hand instinctively on her belly as if the baby might want to see too. There were five tiny onesies inside, all folded with care. One had little astronaut helmets. Another read “Made With Love and Sazón.”

“Oh my God,” Cami murmured, tears welling in her eyes. “Maribel, this is adorable.”

“I mean, you are cooking a baby, I thought he should dress accordingly.”

Cami chuckled through the lump in her throat. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m amazing,” Maribel said, tossing a plantain chip into her mouth.

They sat to eat a few minutes later, and no one brought up her mom. No one asked her to explain, justify, or walk back anything. They just fed her, talked to her, and treated her like family, because she was. Cami wasn’t used to familial love being quiet. She was used to it being conditional, sharp-edged, something she had to earn. But here—between bites of rice and inside jokes—she started to remember: real love was soft. It was shown, not forced.

After dinner, as Joaquín helped his dad clear the table and Maribel wandered off to raid the fridge again, Esperanza knelt beside Cami’s chair and took her hand gently.

“May I?” she asked, and pressed a palm to Cami’s belly when she nodded. “Ay, Dios mío. He’s strong. I can feel it.”

Cami swallowed the rising emotion and managed to say, “He kicks like he’s training for the World Cup.”

Esperanza smiled, then met her eyes. “You’re doing beautifully, Camila. I don’t know what anyone else has told you, but I know strength when I see it.”

Cami’s throat tightened. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to; she squeezed her hand.

“I told Joaquín once—years ago—that I knew you’d be the one,” Esperanza continued. “Not because of the way he looked at you, though that helped.” She chuckled. “But because of how we felt when you came around. Like we already knew you.”

Cami wiped her eyes. “You’ve always made me feel like I belonged.”

Esperanza squeezed her hand. “Because you do. You may not share our blood, but this family? It’s yours. Has been since you stole my tamales in ‘03.”

Cami laughed through her tears. “They were just sitting there! I didn’t know they were for church!”

“You were hungry. You’ve never had to ask me to feed you. Not then. Not now.” Then, in a voice quieter than before: “And you’ll never have to earn love here. Not from me. Not from any of us.”

That was the part that undid her. The part Cami hadn’t even realized she needed to hear until the words wrapped around her like a quilt. She pressed her hand over Mrs. Torres’s, over her belly, and nodded through the tears.

“Thank you,” Cami whispered. “For seeing me, for loving me like your own.”

“We always have, mija, even when you couldn’t see yourself. We may not share blood, but this family? It’s yours. You’re ours. Always. Y ese bebé? Born into love. Into real love.”

That’s when the tears came. And not the kind her mother had always accused her of faking—not those sharp, defensive tears laced with shame. These were real. She wrapped her arms around Joaquín’s mother and hugged her tightly. When she looked up, Joaquín was watching her from across the room, hands folded over his stomach, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. Like he’d known this was what she needed. Like he’d orchestrated it.

Later, as the sun dipped low and Joaquín walked her to the car, Cami leaned into his shoulder, her hand laced with his.

“You planned that,” she said quietly.

“Maybe a little,” Joaquín grinned, the smile she always loved covered his face.

She looked up at him, eyes still shining. “That’s the safest I’ve felt in months. Maybe longer.”

“You deserve to feel that every day,” he murmured, kissing her temple. “Not just when your mom falls short. But always.”

She closed her eyes and pressed her cheek to his chest, feeling the slow, steady beat of the man who’d loved her since before she knew what love could look like.

“I’m glad you brought me here tonight,” she murmured.

“I knew you needed a reset,” Joaquín replied softly. “To remember that family doesn’t have to hurt. We’re your people, Camila. All love. All ways. Always.”

“No, it doesn’t,” she agreed. “It shouldn’t hurt, not ever… And my son is going to know that. He’s going to grow up loved in all the ways I wasn’t. And that’s going to be enough. It’s already enough.”

Joaquín turned her gently and kissed her, long and soft before whispering, “I can’t wait to see you be his mom.”

Cami smiled against his lips. “You’re about to see me be so annoying with him. Matching outfits, little foam swords, custom soccer fits…”

“I’m terrified and delighted.”

She laughed, and it echoed down the street. This time, she wasn’t looking back. She was exactly where she was meant to be.

A few nights later Cami and Joaquín traveled to spend the weekend with her father at his cabin. The porch light buzzed softly above them as the sky shifted from orange to deep blue. Fireflies blinked lazily near the edge of the yard, and the faint scent of cigars from a neighbor floated through the air. Cami sat in one of the old wooden rockers, her bare feet tucked up beneath her, a chamomile tea in one hand. Her belly rounded in her lap like a full moon. Her dad sat beside her, a worn Yankees cap tilted back, watching the stars come in.

He didn’t speak at first. He never rushed these things. He waited until she was ready.

“I told her I was done,” Cami said finally. “For real this time.”

Her father nodded slowly. “I thought you might.”

“She didn’t even fight me, you know? Just rolled her eyes. Like I was being dramatic. Like I owed her something.”

“That woman ain’t ever understood the power of your peace,” he said. “You walking away? That’s the loudest thing you could’ve done.”

Cami leaned her head back. “It still hurts.”

“I know,” he said, his voice as steady as it had always been. “It probably always will. You don’t stop loving someone just because they don’t love you right.”

“I just didn’t think it’d still hit me this hard,” she whispered. “Even now.”

He reached over, took her hand in his calloused one—the same one that used to braid her hair when her mom wouldn’t bother, the one that taught her how to thread a fishing hook and press a crease into an Air Force uniform.

“You’ve always been a soft soul, mija. Even when you were tough. Even when you didn’t cry.”

Cami chuckled, “I cried a lot, Papi.”

“Not where anyone could see,” he said gently. “You were always protecting yourself. Even as a little girl.”

She swallowed hard. “And now I’m having a little boy. And I keep thinking… I don’t want him to grow up thinking love is something he has to earn.”

“He won’t, mija, because he’s got you.”

There was a brief pause.

“And because you learned from the best,” he added with a wink.

Cami let out a laugh through her tears. “You’re ridiculous.”

“But right.”

“Yeah, you are.”

They rocked in silence for a while, the wood creaking under them, the stars blooming above.

“You know,” he said after a while, “when your mom and I split, I knew you’d end up with me eventually, even when the papers said otherwise. I knew your soul needed more than rules and guilt. You needed warmth.”

“You gave it to me,” she whispered.

He smiled, his eyes glassy. “And now you’re giving it to your son. Breaking the chain, Camila. Making something new.”

She turned to him, eyes full. “I want to be just like you, Papi.”

He looked away for a moment, blinking fast, before clearing his throat.

“You already are.”

The night deepened around them, the stars growing brighter and the summer breeze cooling their skin. For a long moment, Cami and her father rocked quietly, the gentle creaking of the chairs the only sound between them. Finally, her dad spoke, his voice soft but sure.

“Whatever comes next, mija, remember this: strength isn’t just about standing tall. It’s about knowing when to lean on the people who love you. And you’ve got plenty of us here.”

Cami nodded, a warmth blooming in her chest that had nothing to do with the evening’s tea.

“I’m ready to build something better,” she said, eyes shining with quiet determination. “For my son, for Joaquín, for myself.”

Her father reached out, gently squeezing her hand one last time.

“That’s my girl. Always moving forward. Always breaking the chains.”

Cami smiled, feeling the weight of the past soften beneath her.

“Gracias, Papi. For everything.”

He tipped his cap, standing slowly. “Anytime, mija. Anytime.”

As he headed back inside, Cami stayed on the porch a moment longer, gazing up at the stars. The future felt vast and full of promise—a new story waiting to be written, one shaped by love, resilience, and the family she chose and was born into. And this time, she knew she was ready.

The room was dim and quiet, except for the soft hum of monitors and the quiet rasp of Joaquín’s voice in her ear.

“You’re doing so good, mi amor,” he whispered, brushing damp curls from her forehead. “Almost there.”

Cami couldn’t answer. Her jaw clenched against the contraction ripping through her, her fingers digging into his. She swore she saw stars. And then it passed. When she opened her eyes, she saw him again—not afraid, not flinching—just there. Like he always had been. Since pre-K and scraped knees and matching Air Force orders. Since childhood, since their first deployment, since they crossed that fragile line into love.

She nodded, heaved a heavy sigh, and said, “I can do this.”

“You already are.”

With a calm smile, the female doctor spoke up: “Nine and a half centimeters. You’re close, Camila.”

Cami’s dad stood near the door, silent but solid like a lighthouse. She could tell he was trying not to cry. He hadn’t said much since they arrived, just offered her his hand when she needed it, rubbed her back when the contractions grew cruel. She caught his eye now and saw it there — that proud, tender expression she’d only ever seen from him. The same one he’d worn the day she graduated basic. The day she moved in full-time at twelve and he quietly rearranged his life to keep her safe. 

He nodded at her, voice hoarse when he said, “You got this, baby girl.”

Outside the room, her brothers were a whole different kind of chaos. Six grown men—loud, anxious, ridiculous—packed the waiting room like they were planning a heist. Danny was pacing. Luis had a stress ball. Elijah had music playing in one ear and a baby name bracket open on his phone. Julian, Isaiah, and Mateo took turns cracking jokes that didn’t land and praying in Spanish under their breath.

They all fell silent when the nurse poked her head out and said, “She’s pushing.”

Inside, a screamed ripped through Cami and her brothers all panicked. Cami bore down again, gritting her teeth, crying out. Joaquín whispered through it all. Her hands were slick with sweat, her heart pounding like a war drum. And then—

“Camila,” the nurse said gently, “look.”

The pressure broke, and a sharp gasp left her lungs as her son entered the world.

The baby let out a wail: strong, clear, demanding to be known.

“That’s him,” Joaquín laughed, choking on a sob. “That’s our son!”

Cami’s hands trembled as they placed him on her chest—warm and damp and perfect. His tiny fists curled against her skin, and his cry quieted the moment he felt her.

She stared at him in wonder, tears spilling freely. “Hi, baby. I’m your mom.”

He blinked, yawned, gripped her finger like he already knew she’d protect him with everything she had. Joaquín leaned in, pressing a kiss to her temple, then to their son’s forehead.

“You did it, Cami,” he whispered, “You did everything.”

A nurse peeked in and asked softly, “Want your family to come meet him?”

“Yeah,” Cami looked down at the baby, still skin-to-skin against her chest, and nodded, “bring them in please.”

The door creaked open. And for the first time in her life, her people saw her whole—not broken or needing to be fixed—just radiant, real, and reborn. Her dad came in first, tears on his cheeks, and kissed her forehead the same way he had when she was six and scared.

“I’m proud of you, mija,” her father whispered. “You gave that baby the start you never got.”

Danny followed, whispering “holy shit” under his breath, then choked on a sob. Elijah cried openly. Mateo made a joke and immediately got smacked for it. Julian knelt at the side of her bed, awe in his eyes. Luis ran his fingers gently over the baby’s curls and murmured, “He’s got your hair.” The Torres family arrived moments later — Joaquín’s parents glowing with pride, Maribel sniffling and holding up a handmade blanket. His mom sat beside her and held her hand, eyes shining.

“Welcome to the world, little one,” she whispered to the baby. “You were born into love.”

Cami’s eyes welled again. She looked around the room at all of her favorite people. People who had chosen her, who had stayed, who had carried her when she couldn’t carry herself. This child would never have to question whether he was wanted. He would grow up surrounded by every kind of love: blood, bond, and chosen.As she kissed his tiny forehead, Cami finally understood: she had broken the cycle. She had become the mother she’d always needed. She was no longer surviving her story — she was living her legacy.

[hes-a-rat-whisperer]

Alistair's chest rapidly rose and sank as his mind viciously screamed at him that Ceb would see in him exactly what he himself sees, if he were to reveal his secret.

however, as Ceb's soft, clawed hands took his own yet again, with his gentle voice pleading for him to talk..the bard took a deep, harsh breath through his nose, before squeezing the siren's hands right back.

'he will be appalled..' he thought. 'he will be disgusted..' he thought..

he pulled the shorter man into a tight hug. so tight, in fact, that his lover could possibly feel his rapid, panicked heartbeat close to his own.

"it's..a long story.." he muttered close to Ceb's ear, finding it easier to reveal what happened, when doing so clinging to the mershark.

--------

many years ago, Alistair had already long made himself a reputation amongst lawmakers and guardsmen.

he had been jailed many times, yet always seemed to slip through the literal cracks and break free with the aid of his furred companions.

one day, however, he found himself being thrown into an abandoned shed instead of a jailcell.

he had been caught stealing produce from a marketplace, having been weakened by hunger for more than a week.

the vendor grabbed his arm, holding it in place as he threatened to cut off the vagabond's hand for trying to steal.

Alistair tried to free himself, and attempted the 'poor old beggar' spiel, as he stomped his heel on the ground, signaling his rats to come to his aid.

the vendor, however, eventually said

"..we may come to an agreement.."

to which Alistair, still playing the part of a poor beggar, replied

"of course! anything!"

he didnt see the other man, approaching him with a huge branch..knocking him unconscious with a single blow to the back of his head.

when he awoke, he was in chains, stripped bare and multiple of his rats in cages around him, squeaking and hissing aggressively as they chewed on the bars, trying to break free.

an old, abandoned chicken coop..

the bard's eyes darted all over the place, panic setting in imediately as he only now saw the man kneeling in front of him.

he imediately crossed his legs, spitting threats of violence at the man, swearing he will kill him.

but the man didn't say a single word back.

he forced the struggling bard's legs open as he opened his own belt, the rats in the cages were getting more aggressive at the sight, the cages rattling loudly as the vendor began to assault their panicking, screaming and crying master.

Alistair felt something inside himself dying. just staring blankly at nothing as he felt himself becoming paralyzed with fear..

a feeling of pure, unbridled horror he had never experienced before..

he was in immense pain, both mentally and physically and the unbearable hunger made it hard for him to even struggle anymore.

the bard could feel tears running down his face, the panic rendering him mute. all he could do was cry as he hyperventilated..

during the assault, the vendor continuously spat insults and vulgarities at the bard, verbally reducing him to nothing but an object, a toy that could either 'get used' to this torment, or die from hunger, as those were the only two options for a 'worthless, free loading street whore', as he put it.

"I might just keep you here.."

was the last thing Alistair heard, before one of the cages fell to the ground.

the door of which had finally given away to the gnawing of the little rodents and they abruptly charged at the vendor, viciously biting into and ripping apart his ankles.

two more cages fell, however their doors remained shut, resulting in the rats getting even more aggressive as the cages wildly shook.

the vendor tried desperately to shake the vicious vermin off, but eventually, his nerves got damaged so severely that his feet could no longer support his own weight.

he fell to the floor with a loud screech, but..

..instead of devouring the struggling man, the rats' heads snapped towards their master.

they ascended the chains that were keeping his wrists fixed to the wall and began gnawing on the wood around the hook they were attached to.

the vendor screamed for help, trying to crawl away, but the pain of his bleeding ankles was much too severe to bear.

eventually, the rats managed to weaken the wood enough for Alistair to break it apart with a last, strong pull.

once he was free, the rats simply watched.

they didn't move another muscle, they simply sat, watching their master rising to his feet.

Alistair was so weak, feeling a sharp pain between his legs as he took trembling steps towards the remaining cages, opening their doors so his rats could escape.

those rats, too, sat and watched as they were free, despite their aggressive struggling from before.

Alistair heard the vendor say something to him, but nothing he said got through. if he were to guess, he'd say those were pleads for his life, or even explanations and excuses for his actions.

Alistair, not saying a single word, grabbed the vendor by his shirt and pulled out his dagger.

with a single slice, he cut the vendor's throat, leaving him to gasp for breath as he pressed his hands desperately over the wound.

the bard clenched up his jaw as he tightened his grip on the dagger and began to stab repeatedly into the choking man's chest.

he screamed in anger as he pierced the blade into stomach, liver, kidney and intestines, spraying blood all over his bare skin and coating the floor in it as a massive puddle began to form.

the vendor was already long dead when Alistair finally stopped.

he was out of breath and rose back up to his feet again.

he remembered the sight well. it was utterly disgusting.

Alistair had damaged the body so severely, it was near unrecognizable.

he searched the soaked clothes for the key to his chains, unlocked them and then searched for his clothes, which were thankfully still there, tossed carelessly into a bucket full of brown, dirty rain water, leaves and sticks..

the rats were still waiting, looking up at their master as he dressed himself, not a single sign of emotion in his face..aside from the damp streaks of tears and the puffyness around his eyes which were merely hinting at a fraction of what was going on inside him.

he was more than ready to leave this place and run far away, but just as he was about to open the door, his rats were biting into his pantleg, urging him to wait another moment.

despite everything, he listened, standing still as they climbed up towards his shoulders.

it took nothing more than for them to press their noses to his cheeks..and he broke apart.

he sunk to his knees, still clutching the door handle with one hand as he bawled and finally fully processed what had happened.

the little rodents were all around him, nuzzling him as he allowed the feeling of fear, dread, disgust and sorrow to overwhelm him with their full intensity.

he wasn't sure how much longer he spent in that shed, but it was enough for the carcass to attract flies..

---------

once Alistair finished telling this long buried story, he had a vacant look in his eyes.

some of his rats came forth from the shadows of the room, crawling close to their master and snuggling their small, warm bodies against him, just like they did all those years ago..

It had only been a few days since the return of prince Felonious and Captain Guinness, as well as the terrible incident that had taken place at the local market. After the assault and conspiracy to commit kidnapping against the queen in waiting, the entire kingdom was thrown into a state of unease and distress. In that time the the royal family had been working tirelessly in that time to find anymore conspirators, which only yielded more distressing results as it had been discovered that the vile criminals were in larger numbers than what was originally thought. However, the capture of the ringleader of this disgusting group seemed to drastically reduce the number of people even Thinking of re-attempting the pregnant princess’s kidnapping. Now it was time plan the punishment of the evil bastard who dared to think it was his right to take Matilda in the first place.

naturally, the king and queen of the land were the ones to make the final decision.

an important decision that would not only show which side they were on, but also make an example of the perpetrators, to give the whole kingdom a clear look at the appropriate punishment one is going to receive if these actions were ever replicated.

however, the king and queen weren't there.

Felonious, Gosgo, Guinness and the royal guardsmen were gathered to discuss the proceedings, while Alistair and Pep were both guarding Matilda and keeping her company, away from these distressing discussions.

but the king and queen hadn't yet arrived.

"where are the majesties?" one guard questioned. "they should have arrived an hour ago!"

eventually, as their chatting turned into wild theories and speculations, Guinness sighed and cleared up the situation.

"calm yerselves! they are probably still in the royal chambers.." he explained. "ah'm going te have a look."

but just as he wanted to get up, the whole gathering of people heard the voices of the two royals, carrying over through the echoey castle halls.

"come on! you heard what the man said!"

"I know, but-"

"so then you know it's justified!"

"it IS, but do we really have to use such extreme measures?"

"honey please, think about the kingdom! think about Mattie! both are so much better off with this villainous vulture hung by his-"

"Cornelia!!"

"shh! they're probably already waiting for us! what if they hear you yelling like that?"

"me yelling?!? what about you saying we should- oh I can't even repeat it.."

"chin up, baby..I wont make you watch, but we have to discuss it!"

the knights exchanged looks amongst each other and Guinness sighed deeply as the heavy doors were finally pushed open to reveal the royal couple.

Cornelia imediately having put on her usual chipper smile, holding the hand of Cornelius who looked rather pale.

"we're so sorry everyone!" Cornelia said quickly as they both sat down. "I hope you weren't waiting too long, we were just..caught up with something.."

Cornelius looked like it took a bit of effort to force a smile as he nodded. "yes, we just-" he wanted to add something to Cornelia's explanation but rather quickly disregarded it.

"nevermind..let us just begin.."

right away, the royal couple gave the word to Guinness, who began by giving a small recap of the proceedings, counting off the crimes committed and the destruction caused by the prisoners.

meanwhile, Cornelius, who's seat was right between felonious and Cornelia, seemed to sink in his chair a bit.

[razorblade180]

Secret of the Wind

Venti:Almost there~ *holding hand* You’re doing great.

Barbara:*blindfolded* Y’know… when you originally told me to put this on, I assumed the walk would be to Angel share, or the knight’s HQ for a surprise party. Maybe even Windrise

Venti:Who says it isn’t?

Barbara:It’s easily been half an hour, and I’m pretty sure I heard a Ruin Guard earlier. Safe to say we’re far from the city.

Venti:Very clever! Just several more steps and we’ll be in the perfect spot!

Barbara:Not to ruin the suspense, but I’m positive I know where we are.

Venti:Take one good guess!

Barbara:Davalin’s abode.

Venti:*stops walking*….

Barbara:…I’m sorry! It was obvious but maybe I should’ve-

He takes off her hair blindfold to welcome the light. Gentle rays stun only for a moment before revealing the entirety of the lair covered in Cecilia flowers in a unique and never before seen pattern. Correct or not, this was unexpected!

Barbara:I’ve never seen these grow here…

Venti:Hehe, they don’t! I planted them!

Barbara:You- ALL OF THEM!?

Venti:That’s right! Plus a few extra variations. Honestly it wasn’t that bad.

Barbara:Venti, there’s thousands of them!

Venti:I had a lot of baskets. Truthfully the hard part wasn’t planting them. It making sure they survived long enough in this pattern without monsters ruining it.

Barbara:What’s the significance? Is it a flower language with a symbol?

Venti:Haha, I wish I was that clever. There’s layers to this, but not like that. It’s more about altitude. Do you trust me?

Barbara:Ehehe, well, don’t you think you should’ve asked me that before the blindfold journey.

Venti:Fair enough! Hold on tight!

In one fell swoop, she’s swept off her feet and into the bard’s arms where she gladly wraps her own around him for safety; not that he’d ever let her fall. A gust of anemo begins forming around them before pushing in and upwards to send them skyward. Barbara never got tired of this feeling. Thev sense of freedom and rush towards the heavens where the sky itself danced in its colorful robes. No wonder Venti’s is so care free all the time.

The Deaconess directed her gaze to the flowers once more and gasped immediately before her face turned bright red. The “pattern” Venti spoke of wasn’t some simple alternating patterns or groups. It was her. Specifically, the Cecilia flowers made her outfit while the negative space created her face. Pools of water made her eyes while lilies became blonde hair.

Venti:HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Barbara:I-How- This is….I would’ve clapped for a cupcake!

Venti:I wanted to get creative. Not to mention…genuine. I know I’ve said this before but umm *red* You are my melody. As pure and gentle as the first wind itself. I- huh? D-Don’t cry!

Barbara:That’s kinda hard! I’m literally being carried in the sky while you say sweet things to me after receiving a self portrait made from flowers! I don’t think even Rosaria could hold back tears in the face of something so thoughtful! I love this! My heart could burst! *hugs him tightly* you’ve outdone yourself.

Venti:Hehe, I guess this is a lot at once. Also, there’s something else. We’ve been dating for a while now, and you’ve been remarkably patient with me when it came to getting to know me. Talking about my past isn’t something I do too often. To be honest, I’m still nervous inside about things might change. But I don’t want to hide things from you.

Barbara:Venti, it’s really okay. Sure I was a little worried about this…distance between us, but everyone has memories and topics they don’t want to discuss. If you’re not ready, I won’t pry…Barbatos.

Venti:I appreciate your understanding but I think I should finally tell you I’m- wait, huh?

Barbara:*smiles*…..

Venti:*red* Y-You knew? For how long!?

Barbara:*blushing* One time after we… had some quality time, I woke up in the middle of the night because you were crying in your sleep.

Venti:Crying!?

Barbara:Yep. It was soft, but noticeable. When I opened my eyes and saw you, this wasn’t the “you” I saw. What I expected to see was a messy haired bard, but instead it was a cute little wind sprite on a pillow. After that, I put the pieces together. Sure, there was a chance you were just a sprite, but considering I’ve seen you call Davalin that one time…

He was at a loss for words. Venti felt completely embarrassed. He thought he was doing pretty well, but clearly he had let his guard down more than he thought.

Venti:I’m…I’m sorry I’ve been lying to you. Guess your image of both the god and guy you love were thrown to the wayside?

Barbara:I wouldn’t go that far. Yes, it was a definite shock, but I had thought you were a fatui before that. You were so mysterious. I knew whatever the secret, you didn’t want it to change us. Honestly the hardest part of all this was not having anyone to tell this to, so I could only imagine how you felt not wanting to tell someone you’ve gotten so close to. *holds his face* I’ve made my mind up awhile ago. You’re still my Venti. My symphony.

Venti:…*tearing up*

Barbara:Hehe, awe. See? Sometimes you can’t help but cry at these-

It was sudden and stunning. Before Barbara’s eyes, a pair of beautiful and elegant wings spread out. Feathers drifted gently among the breeze and broke up the sunlight as the wings wrapped around the both of them like a never ending hug that brought them closer.

Barbara never thought she was great in these quiet moments. For one reason or another, she always found her heartbeat in her ears and a thousand thoughts racing. However, this time, it all remained quiet and peaceful right down to the very last second where her lips gently grazed his before leaning further. How ironic. They had came all this way to look at the flowers. Now they weren’t looking at anything at all. Blindfolded, but completely aware they were in the best place imaginable.

[azzifudd10]

Somewhere To Land

Chapter 31: Mine

Wednesday Night – 

The Wings had just wrapped a tight game with a win, and Paige was sprawled across Azzi’s couch, hair damp from a post-shower rinse, wearing one of Azzi’s oversized sweatshirts and her own Wings shorts.

Eli was sitting on his play mat nearby, babbling into a stuffed giraffe, one sock already missing. His curls were wild from bath time, and Azzi was half-drying them with a towel as she knelt beside him.

Paige looked up from her phone and grinned. “That one three in the third quarter? All for you, Eli.”

He squealed at her and slammed the giraffe into the floor in celebration.

Azzi chuckled, settling back onto her heels. “Oh, you approve? Paige is your favorite now, huh?”

“Obviously,” Paige said, lounging dramatically. “He sees greatness when he sees it.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but her heart was full. She reached over to grab Eli’s bottle and offered it to him.

“C’mere, baby bear,” she said softly, lifting him into her lap and brushing his curls off his forehead. “You were so good today. You had fun with Nai, didn’t you?”

Eli cooed and settled into her chest, hands clutching her necklace like he always did when sleepy.

Paige sat up slowly, watching the two of them, chin propped in her hand.

Azzi whispered into his ear, like it was their own private language.

“You are getting so big, I swear. You're not even a baby anymore. You're my little human. My smart, loud, sticky little human.”

Eli looked up at her, eyes blinking slow.

“And you’ve got so many people who love you,” she said softly, kissing his forehead. “You’ve got Drew, and Nai, and Paige… and your mama, who would literally fight a bear for you.”

“Facts,” Paige muttered from the couch.

Azzi gave her a small smile and went back to her soft talking.

“You know I’d do anything for you, right? Even when I’m tired, even when I’m scared, even when I have no idea what I’m doing… I love being your mom.”

She nuzzled her nose into his cheek.

“And I know you’re still learning how to talk but—”

Eli suddenly looked up, eyes wide, mouth opening like he had something important to say.

And then it came.

Soft. Sloppy. But so clear.

“Mommy.”

The word hovered in the air, echoing like a lightning bolt straight to the heart.

Azzi froze. Paige sat up straighter, blinking in disbelief.

Eli blinked again. “Mommy.”

Azzi’s hand flew to her mouth.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, eyes already glistening. “Did you—did you just—”

Paige was already off the couch. “He said it. Azzi—he just said it.”

Azzi stared at her son, heart thudding so hard it felt like it echoed through her whole chest. Eli grinned, clearly proud of himself, and reached up to boop her nose.

She let out a soft, choked laugh.

“That’s me,” she whispered, tears spilling. “That’s me.”

She hugged him tight, his face buried in her neck as she rocked gently. “That’s the best thing I’ve ever heard, baby bear. Ever.”

Paige crouched beside them and wiped at her own eyes. “That was real, right? That wasn’t just wishful thinking?”

Azzi looked up and smiled through her tears. “No. It was real. He called me Mommy.”

Later That Night – 

Eli was already drifting, nestled in her arms in the rocking chair. Azzi hadn’t stopped crying, not really. Just quiet tears — the kind that come from a place so deep it doesn’t have words.

She brushed his cheek and whispered,

“I’ll never forget this day. Not ever. You gave me the best name I’ve ever had. Mommy.”

She kissed his hair. “You are the best thing I’ve ever done.”

Paige and Azzi

Azzi sat curled against Paige, her head tucked under Paige’s chin, their legs tangled under the blanket. Paige was still holding Azzi’s hand, thumb rubbing slow circles over her knuckles.

“You okay?” Paige whispered.

Azzi nodded, smiling through what was probably her fifth round of tears. “I’ve never been better.”

Paige kissed the top of her head. “You deserve this. Every piece of it.”

Azzi leaned closer, her voice low. “He chose me. Not just once. Every day. But tonight… he said it.”

“You’re his whole world.”

Azzi smiled against her shoulder. “And he’s mine.”

[joutsummer]

"On the Beach" by Mary Oliver + Brothers, Teammates, Rivals & Friends

"On the Beach" by Mary Oliver (x) | Matej Mohorič & Fred Wright, 2023 Tour de France, Stage 19 (x) | Jonas Vingegaard, Sepp Kuss, Christophe Laporte & Tiesj Benoot, 2022 Tour de France, Stage 20 (x) | Mathieu van der Poel & Jasper Philipsen, 2023 Paris-Roubaix (x) | Ivo Oliveira & Rui Oliveira, 2023 Portuguese National Championships (x) | Marc Soler & Tadej Pogačar, 2023 Tour de France, Stage 17 (x) | Jonas Vingegaard & Tadej Pogačar, 2022 Tour de France Podium Ceremony (x) | Wout van Aert & Mathieu van der Poel, 2023 UCI Cyclocross World Championships (x) | Mark Cavendish & Geraint Thomas, 2023 Giro d'Italia, Stage 21 (x) | Felix Gall & Ben O'Connor, 2023 Tour de France, Stage 17 (x) | Richard Carapaz & Michał Kwiatkowski, 2020 Tour de France, Stage 18 (x) | Ilan van Wilder & Remco Evenepoel, 2022 Vuelta a España, Stage 21 (x) | Mark Cavendish & Julian Alaphilippe, 2021 Tour de France, Stage 6 (x) | Primož Roglič & Tadej Pogačar, 2020 Tour de France, Stage 21 (x) | Julian Alaphilippe & Mirco Maestri, 2024 Giro d'Italia, Stage 12 (x) | Valentin Paret-Peintre & Aurélien Paret-Peintre, 2024 Giro d'Italia, Stage 10 (x) | Juan Sebastián Molano & Rui Oliveira, 2023 Vuelta a España, Stage 12 (x) | Jonas Vingegaard & Wout van Aert, 2022 Tour de France, Stage 11 (x)

Thank you @arriere-du-peloton for answering the call when I asked for cycleblr's favorite hugging photos!

[tohruies]

hi hi mrs yao !!!! christmas is coming up, are you going to celebrate anythinf with xiangli ? :33 btw, since miss coco doesnt have a tree, here's a little something to say thank you for being one of my lovely moots 🥺

oh! 😁 hi hello mr puppetgear! 😁 christmas celebrations with xiangli you ask! 😁 well actually! 😁 you see, i was th— *dies upon seeing the image you’ve attached to this ask* 😳😲🤯😱😱😱😵💀🪦