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emdeerm · 6 months

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Past saves Present

Og fic ig

In some cultures, it is believed that children are able to remember bits of their past lives till the ages of 3-5.

For Danny, the opposite was true. He got his memories at exactly the second he turned 5.

And he had to promptly dodge the blade of the boy in front of him.

His brother, his mind supplied. His twin.

Danny stopped swinging his own sword, focusing on dodging and avoiding the fate of being a slashed pillow. His new/earned skills especially helped with that greatly as his head was seriously trying to re-kill him.

"I yield," he rasped as he jumped away from his brother and looked at their Mother. "My head hurts, Mother," he added pitifully.

His twin looked slightly concerned for a second, before schooling his face in a way Grandfather has been teaching them.

"Tch." But he did put away the blade before their Mother, said a word.

"Dynial, Damian, you are not to stop until you have received permission in the future."

The boys nodded. Mother took their hands and led them out of the private training ground back to their rooms.

Danny spent the rest of the day lying down, slightly feverish and miserable as his brain was processing and acclimating the new set of memories. Clockwork said it wouldn't be too bad. We'll, the clock bustard has been wrong. It fucking sucked.

His brother was hovering. Their Mother was always around, not letting anyone into their space. Ra's is being kept in the dark.

A peaceful rest was all he needed for his brain to finish sorting out new information. And Danny was stuck in a bit of a dilemma.

You see, Damian and Dynial love their Mother, strive to be the best Demon Twins, and see nothing wrong with their life so far.

Their hands are still clean.

Danny, on the other hand, has many MANY choice words for his current situation and one Clock Ghost.

You want to try reincarnation ONE time! No wonder others don't really do that.

-------

Their days continued like they did before he got his memory back. It wasn't hard to be Dynial when he actually was him.

The nights were filled with planning. And a personally assigned mission: get Damian to be interested in normal things.

Stars weren't much of a hit. Uncultured child.

Animals were a little intriguing.

Simple art and craft projects seemed to hit the spot.

Keeping their little meetings and activities hidden wasn't as hard as one would think. Mother still had her missions. The two of them were often left alone in their wing of the place, the supervisors being allowed only till the doors. Ra's was the Head. He didn't check in on them all the time. The two of them weren't slacking in their training either and were considered prodigies.

Danny wanted out of this Cult.

A many months after feeding different information, facts, crafts and so on to his brother, Damian was curious. He was suspicious about the sudden knowledge but he was also 5. He only had to reference the Lazarus Pit (unfiltered and dirty ectoplasm? Seriously? Clockwork, you can't expect him to work on his vocation) once to convince the child.

They snooped around and found out that they had a father out in the world.

Danny got a plan.

It was super stupid. And dangerous as hell. As well as literally (half)suicidal. But he felt it in his chest and knew he'd succeed.

His Core was here. But it was sleeping. And if he wanted to be safe and away from here, he needed to start it up again.

The big pool of Ecto would do just fine. His Core would filter out the impurities.

He didn't want to stay here until his hands no longer protected. He didn't want such life for his brother either.

---

Damian infiltrated the Lazarus Room just in time to see his brother jump into the Pit.

He ran to the edge.

He was sinking.

The green was too bright. The smell around them was too much. His ears rang.

He reached towards the water, eyes unseeing and hands numb. His heartbeat was too loud.

His brother's wasn't loud enough.

"Don't touch the puddles, Dami, you'll get sick," a gentle, cold hand stopped him from diving.

The child looked up. His brother was floating above the water. He looked all wrong. But he was there.

"I didn't want you to see this part..." his brother laughed awkwardly as he landed next to him. A bright ring of light blinded Damian for a second.

And his brother was back.

-----

Getting used to his powers again felt nice but tedious. Soothing his twin was heartbreaking. He didn't think this through hard enough.

Their Mother was none the wiser to the fact that one of her children died and came back. Nore was she privy to the escape being planned by both.

On one moonless night, when Mother wasn't there, the shift was changing and the world was asleep; two boys phased through the walls and flew. Small bags of stuff were strapped onto them as they traveled to their father.

Mother's notes called him Bruce Wayne, Batman, Beloved and Detective.

It wasn't hard to find him when they arrived.

Though, Danny didn't expect a furless furry and a pantless child to be their new family.

Can he ever get a normal Family???

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 6 months

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I am Sage's mother, better known as Nana. I adopted Sage after my son died when she was still a baby. She's been through six foster homes by then, but we loved her and she blossomed into a joyful, lively girl who made music and art.

Puberty began and COVID hit, and she was treated for depression and anxiety, at times very severe. Her teachers shared any concerns with me so her treatment could be adapted.

The transparency ended in August of 2021 when Sage started high school. She started a public high school and she told me that all the girls there were bi, trans, lesbian, emo and she wanted to wear boy's clothes and be emo. Because I saw it as just a phase, it was fine with me.

But at school, she told them something different: she was now a boy named Draco with male pronouns. Sage asked the school not to tell me, and they did not tell me even though I informed them of her mental health history and medication. If I had known, this would be a much different story.

She was terribly bullied. No one told me. But boys followed her, touched her, threatened violence and rape. Something happened in the boy's bathroom but for two days, the school told me nothing. They kept meeting with Sage alone and she became so distraught they called me to pick her up.

That evening, I found a hallpass labeled 'Draco' and Sage told me she was identifying as a boy, and that her counselor said she could use the boy's bathroom. She'd been jacked up against the wall by a group of boys. She was crying, terrified. I said just stay home, we'll figure it out. That was my last conversation with Sage for five months.

The night she ran, she thought, to a young friend she'd met online, she left a note saying she was scared of what would happen if she stayed. The sheriff, FBI, search dogs were called in. I dropped to my knees in prayer. Nine days later the FBI found her in Baltimore. My baby had been lured online, sex trafficked by DC then Maryland. She was locked in a room, drugged, gang raped and brutalized by countless men. It was night. The FBI told us to pick her up in Maryland the next morning.

We packed our cars with blankets and stuffed animals and arrived by 8 am, but we were told we couldn't see her, and were summoned before Judge Robert Kershaw late that afternoon. They didn't even tell Sage that we came for her. We finally entered the courtroom and Sage appears on a huge Zoom screen from a prison cell. She looks tiny and broken, and I cry out 'I love you Sage.' Sage responds 'I love you too, Nana.' But attorney Anisa Khan rebukes us. She is a 'he' and his name is 'Draco' not Sage. We were floored.

Khan accuses us of emotional and physical abuse, that we are misgendering her, even though we just learned she claims to be trans and we're willing to use any name and pronouns to bring her home. My husband was so tearful he kept forgetting the new pronouns, so the judge had the bailiff remove him from the courtroom. I was pleading for my child to be returned and treated for her unspeakable trauma. Judge Kershaw told me, if I use the word 'trauma' again, he would throw me out too.

For over two months, he withheld custody. He housed Sage in the male quarters of a children's home. Sage told me she was the only girl and repeatedly assaulted. She was given street drugs by the other kids and Khan told her she didn't care. She just wanted to win the case and all the way to the Supreme Court if necessary. Khan tried to prove abuse, but we were eventually cleared by both states of all charges.

Sage later told me Khan had told her to lie that we hit her. Khan even had Sage's school counselors testify against us, though they barely knew Sage and they didn't know us at all. Khan told my precious child I didn't want her anymore. I found out Sage never received any of the letters I sent her.

Sage ran from the Children's Home and disappeared for months. They told me she might already be gone forever, but I couldn't give up and I finally found a tip on her social media that led the marshals to her in Texas. She had been drugged, raped, beaten and exploited. This time I was able to be with her for the traumatic rape exam, and to bring her home.

Back in Virginia, she entered the mental health facility that Judge Kershaw had ordered, as it would affirm her as a male. The therapist began pressuring her to have her healthy breasts removed. Sage was too scared to protest, but she asked me to secretly buy her girl's clothes because she wanted to be a girl, but keep them in the car. It took a kind lawyer, Josh Hetzler to secure her discharge.

After almost a year. Sage was finally home. Safe. Alive. Sage is receiving professional trauma care. The first trafficker has already been convicted. Sage has nightmares, panic attacks, rape-related medical issues, but there's hope. I tell her she's not broken she's just scarred. And part of that hope is that in courageously sharing her story, others will be saved.

Sage said she doesn't know who she was back then. She wasn't a boy, she just wanted to have friends. But her school, the judge, the attorney and the doctor were all blinded by their ideology. The consequences for Sage were unspeakable.

Please don't let ideology harm another child. Let parents do our jobs. We know our children best and we love them a million times more.

Thank you.

Jesus Christ. This girl was exploited by everybody, except for her parents, who were villainized for literally nothing. It's opposite world.

And the fact that everybody with authority prioritized stupid shit like pronouns and trying to coax her further down into a fake identity, even against her will, and other ideological bullshit over her actual wellbeing is disgraceful.

The judge and attorney need to be disbarred, the therapist stripped of their license, and everyone who conspired to separate Sage from her parents fired.

#Sage's Law #HB 2432 #gender ideology #queer theory #ideological corruption #genderwang #safeguarding #child safeguarding #predators #groomers #predatory #gender cult #religion is a mental illness

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calmcoldevening · 10 months

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Pov: You knew slashers, when you was a child (Slashers x fem!reader)

I'm back! Well, it os a lazy post from my drafts, until I end my new idea <3

TW: no

Characters: Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire, brothers Sinclair

P.S.: English is not my native language, so lot of these words was translated by simple translator, sorry for misspells and e.t.c.

Enjoy this!

Thomas Hewitt

The transition to a new school has always been a great stress for a child, especially in the middle of the school year.

You and your parents often moved from city to city. Maybe it was their work, or maybe they just wanted to show you as many different places as possible so that your childhood would remain really memorable — you didn't know. But the constant moving was followed by a change of schools and kindergartens. On the one hand, you liked it — new acquaintances, interests and a lot of positive emotions, after all, you were a cheerful and active child — but it also brought its inconveniences — you didn't have "best" friends, you had no more than a couple of months to communicate with each of them, and multiple the change of the team has made you a real chameleon in society.

You were ten years old when you and your parents moved to Texas. The age when most classes have already been divided into peculiar interest groups, which are quite difficult for a new person to join. That's why your mom decided to bake cookies that you could distribute to new classmates. Who doesn't like homemade cakes? You actively participated in the cooking process. A little more practice, and you could learn these cookies on your own. As soon as the treat was ready — several pieces were successfully taken away by your father — your mother beautifully put it in a colored box, now tied with a ribbon. The inscription "Welcome" was painted on the lid in gold paint.

It was very hot in this area of Texas. Therefore, on your first day of school, you decided to limit yourself to a beautiful white T-shirt with some simple pattern and black shorts. The first impression is the most important, right? Your mom took you to school by car. At the reception desk, your mom introduced you and found out the number of the right office. After kissing you goodbye on the cheek, she left you to your own luck. Although you were already used to it, a nervous feeling of anticipation bubbled somewhere in your chest; your palms were sweating.

After a good seven minutes, you were standing in front of the right class, 212, clutching a box of cookies to your chest. Adjusting the strap of the gray backpack, you exhaled anyway.

Your homeroom teacher, Mrs. Sullivan, introduced you in the office. A lovely woman with curly locks hanging down on both sides of her face and freckled cheeks. Her soft figure, dressed in a white blouse and a black pencil skirt, caused a surge of strength and confidence in you. The woman lightly put her arm around your shoulders, so motherly, and asked you to tell about yourself.

"My name is Y/N Y/L," your voice trembled slightly while your gaze ran over the children sitting in the classroom, "I'm ten. I like animals and beading... Mm, my parents and I move around a lot, so I don't think I'll stay here for more than two months. I hope we'll become friends."

You ended your performance with a sincere warm smile. Mrs. Sullivan asked you to take an empty seat. Your choice fell on the farthest place by the window; a guy was sitting behind it, hunched over and staring at the street. Was he weird? No, rather unusual. He had long black hair, so unusual for a boy; his gaze was lowered somewhere on the dusty road near the school, so you couldn't see his eyes. Sitting down next to him, you quickly took out a notebook and pencil from your backpack.

"Hello?"

The boy seemed startled by your voice. He looked at you uncertainly, and you saw a face wrapped in bandages. Sad cornflower blue eyes peeked out from under the white cloth.

"I'm Y/N," you whisper, holding out your hand to the boy, "And what's your name?"

There was no response. Disappointed, you lowered your hand, now paying attention to the teacher's explanation. The woman was writing down her words on the blackboard, and you quickly began copying them into your notebook, clutching a pencil until it crackled.

There was something about this boy that attracted you. It doesn't matter if it was his shyness or isolation — you decided that you definitely want to make friends with him.

At recess, you approached a group of girls. They were dressed up like girls from fashion magazines that you often saw in kiosks by the road.

"Hi," — you said with a light smile.

"Well, hello," said one of the girls, popping a bubble of gum.

"I want to ask. M, that boy," you pointed to the long—haired boy, "What's his name? I asked, and he ignored me."

"Haha, he won't answer you. That's our little Tommy," another girl hissed sarcastically, giggling, "Thomas Hewitt is weird. Very strange. I heard that his father is his brother!"

"And he's also a terrible freak!"

You awkwardly put your hand in your hair. Thomas didn't look as disgusting as the girls described him. It's all rumors. And what to take from these children, they probably didn't even try to talk to Hewitt!

You didn't talk to this company anymore. After waiting for lunch, when all the children went out to the garden at the school, you again approached the boy. He didn't budge. It seems he hasn't even written anything since you sat down next to him.

"Hey, hello?" you waved your palm in front of the guy's face, "Thomas, right?"

This time the boy paid attention to you. There was no emotion visible under the thick layer of bandages, but you were sure that he arched an eyebrow questioningly. He's wondering how you know his name?

"You were sitting alone, so I came over. Your name is Thomas, right?" you repeated the question, finally the boy nodded, "That's wonderful! I'm Y/N, let's get acquainted."

Smiling happily, you hand the guy an open box of cookies. Golden crust with chocolate chips. You had no desire to share such a delicious thing with such terrible and tactless people. And Tommy. Tommy was different. He was timid and calm, unable to cause harm.

"Help yourself," you babble, sitting down next to Hewitt, "I made them myself! Not without my mommy's help, of course..."

You blush slightly and see Thomas's eyes narrow. He smiled! He seems to be starting to like your company.

"Can I call you Tommy?"

• Thomas has become noticeably happier since you met him. The boy began to spend more time outside the house, in your company (Luda was very surprised by this, because usually after school Tommy always came home and sat in his room).

• For your birthday, Thomas himself sewed a soft toy for you, a fox, as he found out later, this is one of your favorite animals. The toy was sewn from different, but matching pieces of fabric, a little sloppy, but quite skillfully. It made you smile. You threw your arms around Hewitt for joy.

• Once you praise him, Tommy immediately blushes a lot. It's good that it's not visible under the layer of bandages. From the moment you became friends, Thomas's self-esteem has risen a little.

• When you first offered to help Thomas change the bandages, he strongly refused. The boy just couldn't let you see his face. But when he finally gave up, Hewitt was pleasantly surprised that you didn't scream and run away. You didn't call Tommy a freak or a monster, but only sympathetically stroked his scarred cheeks.

• Over time, you began to understand Thomas without words, absolutely. You found the right answers in his movements, grunting, awkward head turning or excessive gesticulation. Even Luda was a little amazed at your nonverbal communication, but the woman was glad that her son finally found a real friend.

• Tommy often showed you his drawings. It was like the scribble of a five-year-old child, but you were always happy to accept the leaves and hang them over your bed. Basically, Thomas drew his family: angry Charlie in the corner of the paper, Monty sitting next to him in a chair, a little further away, Luda was cooking, and in the center of the drawing you and Thomas holding hands and smiling.

• It was the first time you begged your parents to stay in this city longer. Fortunately, they agreed after seeing your enthusiasm for the "strange boy".

Brahms Heelshire

• Your parents and the Healers kept in touch for a while, you can say your families were very close. You first met Brahms on his fifth birthday. He was a very well-mannered but private boy, so Mrs. Heelshire was only too happy to introduce you.

• At first, your communication did not work out. Brahms was a rude child in places, took away your toys and teased you.

• His true attitude towards you showed up when you didn't come to his house, although you were visiting the Heelshire family every Monday and Wednesday. He was seriously worried. All morning Brahms sat in his room by the window and looked at the road going through the forest, waiting for your little body in your favorite blue dress to appear from behind the trees. But you were never there. It turned out that you were just sick. That day Brahms went to your house and did not leave your bed, squeezing your hot palm.

• Your parents worked most of the time, so they were not against your games with Heelshire Jr. You stayed in their house more and more often, sometimes even overnight, and you and Brahms made noise all night, forcing his mother to swear. But still, the woman was glad that at least Brahms was behaving quite comfortably and boldly with someone.

• You were only a couple of months younger than Brahms, but you thought it was a good reason to tease you.

• The boy allowed you to enter his room without knocking, consider it a worthwhile privilege, because Heelshire does not let everyone into his personal space.

• When you were sad, Brahms brought you bouquets of flowers hastily made with his own hands. That's why his palms were green most of the time.

• Brahms makes wonderful sandwiches. He often makes them when the two of you are having a "picnic" in the garden. Although in fact he agrees to it only to admire you.

• Heelshire loves sweets very much. Very. His mom doesn't allow the boy a lot of sweets and cakes, so you secretly bring them to him from home. The boy is insanely happy.

• Brahms loves kissing. This habit, or rather the need, appeared in him because you praised the boy in this way. Has he finally cleaned the room? A kiss. Did he break his mom's precious vase during the catch-up today? A kiss! So now he can demand them for any reason. He especially likes it when you kiss him before going to bed, and Brahms falls asleep hugging you.

• You're his best friend. That's why Brahms trusts you with all his secrets. You are the only one to whom he has told about the strange and frightening thoughts that sometimes sound in his head.

"Good night," Mrs. Heelshire said, turning off the light and closing the door behind her.

You smile and blow her a kiss, covering your mouth with your palm. When the woman's footsteps recede, you exhale with relief, plopping down on the pillow with force. Squinting your eyes, you wrinkle your nose, trying to blow away the stuck strands of hair from your face. Brahms giggles and gently tucks your hair behind your ear.

The room is cool. The window is slightly ajar, letting in a light autumn wind. The curtains are swaying from side to side, taking chaotic frightening shadows.

You get under the covers up to your nose. Brahms follows your example, pressing his whole body against you, and you stroke his head.

"If I ever do something very, very bad, will you stay with me?" Heelshire whispers, looking up at you.

You look into his sad emerald eyes and laugh. He likes to put pressure on your pity, because he knows that at such moments you see him as a tiny abandoned kitten.

"I don't think you'd do anything so bad, Brahms."

"But if I do. What if everyone turns away from me. Even mom and dad. Will you stay with me?"

You pressed your lips together, frowning. Brahms had never asked such strange questions before. And how can a child who is only eight years old think about something like that after a while. Looking down at the ceiling, you turned your head, looking into Brahms' eyes.

"Yes. I'll stay."

"Honestly?" Heelshire asks incredulously.

"Honestly."

"Promise?"

"Yes, I promise you, silly boy!" you abruptly cover his face with a blanket, holding the edges on both sides of his head.

The boy was kicking, trying to get out from under your weight, while you tried not to laugh. Taking pity on his futile attempts, you took off the blankets, admiring Brahms' flushed face. Heelshire was breathing heavily, and his cheeks and nose were burning like Chinese lanterns that your parents launched on your birthday.

"I won. Again," you grin.

Brahms is silent. You sigh and lie down again, turning your back to Heelshire. Your eyes are shining with joy, and your lips continue to curve in a smug grin. You know that Brahms will not dare to do something to you in return. He always let you get away with such antics. Absolutely always.

When you are ready to fall asleep, through the chatter in your head you hear a plaintive whisper. Having opened your leaden eyelids, you groan with displeasure.

"Kiss me," Brahms whines, and you get up on your elbows, chuckling softly.

"Okay," you kiss Heelshire on the lips, "Good night, Brahms."

• "Now I've won," Brahms croaks, pressing you against the wall and spreading his hands on both sides of your head. Just like a child. Except now he's not the victim here, but you. Although was he ever a victim in your games? Rather, he always played the role of a presenter, you just didn't notice it, as if you were looking through your fingers. And who would have thought that that innocent little boy would ever stand in front of you, towering over your body by a good two heads, and grinning with eyes shining in anticipation through the black slits of the mask.

Sinclairs

Christmas is the most mysterious and magical holiday of the year; the day when the whole family gathers at one big table to properly celebrate this moment together; the day when you receive a lot of gifts from all kinds of relatives, which you sometimes did not realize; the day when all wishes come true.

You clumsily shuffled along the road, shaking your back every now and then to adjust the heavy backpack. Things inside rattled a lot, and you tried to straighten your back faster to avoid crumpled packages.

Christmas was your favorite holiday. And although your parents have been working constantly lately, you were glad that you could spend this family holiday with your friends.

You met not so long ago, only about four months ago, when you first moved here. Ambrose turned out to be a very nice and cozy city with friendly and caring people. Mrs. Sinclair, Trudy, and your mom became friends right away— their interests converged on art. That's when I met her sons, the woman suggested that you make friends with them because of their similar age. And it turned out to be a very good idea. The boys quickly became addicted to you.

Once again adjusting the canvas straps of the backpack, you quickly climb the steps requested by the snow and knock on the sand-colored door several times. On the other side, there is a fussy shuffling and dissatisfied grumbling.

"Hello," you say, smiling, when the door swings open in front of you, revealing a view of the timid Vincent.

The guy nods to you and opens the door wider, motioning you to enter. You kiss Sinclair on the cheek of the mask. Brushing off your feet at the threshold, you quickly take off your shoes and leave your backpack at the shoe shelf. Music from an old radio is coming from the kitchen, some station unknown to you is playing old songs from the seventies. As soon as you entered the room, Vincent stood at the stove again, frying something in a frying pan. Whenever Trudy was busy making figures and arranging a museum that she someday wanted to open, it was Vincent who did the cooking and other household duties. Bo was stubborn and didn't want to do "women's" work, and Lester was still too young for such a large-scale activity. The latter was now sitting at the table and skillfully sliced an apple with a hunting knife into neat pieces.

"Morning, Lester," passing by the boy, you leave a small kiss on his forehead.

"Hi, Y/N!" Sinclair winces contentedly, flapping his big copper eyes.

You sit down next to the boy and imperceptibly take a piece of apple from under his nose, throwing it into his mouth contentedly. There were already several plates and cutlery on the table. Vincent loved order, so he prepared everything in advance.

"Where's Bo?" you ask, rocking slightly in your chair, for which you get a menacing look from Vincent.

"Mom asked him to help at the museum," Lester replied, "He should be back soon."

You notice how Vincent turns off the stove and turns his whole body in your direction. The guy takes a notebook lying on the table and quickly scribbles something.

"Have you had breakfast?"

"Yes," you say shortly, when Vincent closes the notebook and puts it back, "Honestly."

Sinclair puts the hot omelette on plates and pushes you a bowl of oatmeal cookies. You happily take one piece. Vincent sits down across from Lester and lifts the mask just enough to see his mouth. You frown, noticing the edge of his deep scar.

"Hey everyone," it was heard from the threshold, when the front door slammed shut with force, "Oh, honey, and you're here," Bo walks past you, lightly touching your shoulder in greeting, and sits down next to Vincent.

During brunch, you watch Lester and Bo actively negotiate. When their plates are empty, you decide to step in.

"Since everyone is here," you babble happily, clapping your hands to attract the attention of the guys, "I want to give you gifts a little earlier than planned, do you mind?"

"Of course not," Bo abruptly pushed away from the table, "I'm all for it, babe."

Bo winked at you playfully, to which you rolled your eyes. Vincent signed something, and you looked at Lester. Your sign language was not yet good enough to understand most of the phrases, you barely remembered the words of politeness. That's why you've always relied on little Lester at times like this.

"He said: "Why are you doing this so early?"", Lester explained, innocently blinking his eyes.

"What's the difference," Bo frowned, "Sooner or later — the main thing is that she gave."

You didn't comment on the elder Sinclair's words, but just got up from the table and went to your backpack resting in the hallway. When you came back, the brothers were already sitting in a kind of semicircle on the floor. Bo sprawled impressively closer to the sofa and grinned in anticipation; Lester, in his usual manner, sat cross-legged; while Vincent tucked his knees to his chest.

You sat down between the twins and put the backpack next to you, unzipping it. You said "Close your eyes" and, as soon as the boys fulfilled your request, you began to take out colorful boxes. All packages had the same color, different sizes. Alternately, you put the gifts in front of them and allowed them to watch. Lester giggled when he saw that his box was the biggest.

"Merry Christmas," you drawled, spreading your arms out to the sides.

The very first gift was opened by Lester. The boy happily tore open the package, scattering the paper around him, and screamed when he saw the cherished surprise. A big stuffed fawn. He had a soft beige body and neat brown horns sticking out in different directions. The muzzle was cheerful, with a big nose and shiny button eyes.

"I knitted it especially for you," you babble, smiling, when Lester looks up at you with an enthusiastic look.

"Thank you!" the boy throws himself on your neck with lightning speed, squeezing your body until the bones crunch; you stroke his back.

Bo was a little surprised when he saw a set of tools under the wrapper. He loved tinkering and was well versed in mechanics; the fact that you remembered about this hobby touched the guy a little; his lips curved in a slight smile.

"Well, thanks, babe," Bo grins, patting your hair.

You're pouting a little. All the time spent in the morning combing this tangled nest has gone to waste. You are dissatisfied with blowing off a few strands that caught your eye.

The last person to open his gift was Vincent. The boy very tenderly unwrapped the package, not trying to tear it, as if stretching and savoring this moment. You watched the deft but careful movements of his fingers with burning impatience. Finally, Sinclair took off all the paper, removing it from the side, and looked down at what he saw. A large set with colored pencils. Exactly the one that the boy looked at with undisguised envy in the window of an art store about a month ago. Did you remember that? With slightly trembling hands, Vincent takes the box and turns it in his hands. There were several more drawing pads under it.

Vincent looks at you, and you see the trembling gaze of his azure eyes in the slits of the mask. Such unbelievers, but at the same time grateful. You crawl up to the boy and hug him tightly, nuzzling his neck. Vincent lets out a ragged sigh.

"Merry Christmas to you, boys," you congratulate them once again, seeing the boys' satisfied smiles.

"So why did you decide to give it to us so early?" Lester asked, clutching the toy to his chest.

"Oh, that," you awkwardly fix your hair, "Well, my parents decided to leave. To another state. We'll leave tonight. So I thought I could have some fun with you now."

There was an oppressive silence in the room. You were afraid to look up, but you could feel the disappointment on the boys' faces. Your heart was painfully squeezed in your chest, from which you gritted your teeth with a creak.

"Will you come back?" Bo broke the silence.

"I don't know. Dad was offered a job in another state. Mom just said I wouldn't be able to see you."

You looked at each of the boys in turn. Vincent's head drooped, Bo's brows furrowed, and Lester's lips tightened into a crooked thread. The elder Sinclair sighed heavily.

"We'll be waiting. All together," he looked at you from under his brows, "Just try not to come back to us."

• Vincent loves sweets; but, often, Bo takes most of the goodies. That's why you put an envelope with several edible bracelets in one of the donated notebooks. Bo will probably consider them girly and will not take them away from his brother.

• You have been knitting a fawn for Lester for about five days; the boy is very happy with your gift. Your relationship is like a brother and a scary sister. He is always ready to rely on you; Sinclair is glad that he has such a caring person, unlike the same brothers (in particular Bo).

• Trudy adores you. You could say that in these few months she began to perceive you as her own daughter. You even know where the spare keys to the back door of the house are.

• Bo always tries to impress you as a self-sufficient high school student. He saw his father's old magazines with tackles, seduction and other materials not for children, so he decided to train on you. He didn't notice how he fell in love.

• Vincent is a good cook.

• Most of Vinnie's drawings in the new notebooks are you. He will paint your portraits for many years after your leaving.

#slashers x reader #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #brahms heelshire #brahms heelsire x reader #lester sinclair #lester sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #bo sinclair x reader #bo sinclair

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lxvvie · 1 month

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i work at a theme park, so every day i see dads with their little kids carrying them, giving them a high five, lifting them when there’s a parade so they can see ☹️✨ it makes me so happy, it makes me think of the boysss. how would they be in a theme park as parents? you can do only the one-four-one boys if you want to

I see Price as the dad getting all the compliments when he's out with his child(ren), ranging from how darling they are, how calm and well-behaved they are, how at ease he is with them, and oh, is he seeing someone? Currently? Right in front of you and your funnel cake...?

Soap is the dad who 110% does just about everything with his wee little ones. Scared to get on that one ride? S'okay, he's right there with ya. Want that one toy in that game? Sure thing, he'll win it for them. That one dickhead dad and his kid cut in front of Soap and his own? Best believe he'll fight for his and his wee one's honor.

Gaz and his kid(s) are the ones who really go for the food so they'll be trying just about anything they can, honestly. Oh, and the games! They like a good game. As a whole, they tend to stay FAR away from the mascots and clowns. Once Gaz was dared to go on the highest roller coaster in the park by his kid(s) and daredevil that he can be sometimes, um... we'll leave it at that.

Ghost is the dad his kid(s) use to carry the stuffed animals won so he's almost always walking out of the theme park with an arm full of them. Is usually seen standing to the side, arms crossed, and keeping his eye on you and the little ones as you wait in line to get on a ride or grab food or whatever. Will also have his kids on his shoulders or in his arms, too, if they want to see the parade.

Rudy is the mom dad who keeps water, sunscreen, and a park map on hand; if you and he split up so you can take the kids to do their thing, it's check-ups galore via the cell and a designated meet-up spot to reconvene.

Alejandro and his children are just there to have fun. He's the dad whose kids make him get a caricature drawing that you will frame and hang up at home, some face painting done, and it's pictures galore. Too many to count but it's worth it to him. He remembers you and your children's smiles and laughter the best.

Köthulhu and his Köthulhi may or may not give the mascots hell. Probably. As a dare. Which earns him and the kids a stern look from you. But really, you all use Mount Königmanjaro as the personal crowd-parter guy because he's massive, you use him to win those dart balloon games, and you make him stand in line for food or something when you have to step out to attend to the kids because... who gone check him?

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neoarchipelago · 8 months

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Just saw a TikTok where a kid send their favorite stuff animal to his dad who's deployed. Just imagine this happening with 141 🥺 (I'm actually sending this to my favorite writers hoping I can get a cute scenario 😅)

That sounds adorable... I melted at the thought. Sorry it got very angst with Ghost but I'm feral for this man and I'd give him babies any time he wants.

Warning: slight NSFW, f!reader, angst and comfort

Price:

Price would frown but have a little smirk, watching the recruit hand him a cardboard box. His smile spreads when he notices figures of who it is from.

He wouldn't mind opening it in front of the team. They'd be busy bickering anyway.

He swears his heart stops for a second and he sees the soft thing. He could recognize it in the middle of the battlefield, the awful thought putting a ping of anger in his heart.

He'd be silent for a moment, looking at the round pink thing, his mind instantly wandering home, to you and your daughter.

He took the tiny note, scribbled a bit. "Keep you company daddy. Love, mom and me"

He swears he could cry right now.

He keeps it in his barracks, hidden so well no one ever glanced at it until he left. He wouldn't dare taking it with him, not wanting to soil it with he horrors of the battlefield.

He hugs it at night, until the day he returns, his daughter running to him as he holds the stuffed animal who kept his sanity strong.

He makes sure to worship you that night, thanking you silently for making him the happiest man on earth. In the morning you're sore but oh so happy. He whispers sweet nothings as he helps prepare breakfast, thanking you for giving him a daughter and home to come to.

Soap:

Soap would be thrilled to see the box for him. He wouldn't even wait to open it, under the amused gazes of the team.

He'd smile brightly at the sight of the little shark, immediately taking the note to read it out loud "to help you fight daddy!"

He run around the room, holding it up in the air, voicing to his team how happy he was, how proud of his son and how he absolutely loved you for giving him such a gift .

He'd keep it at all times at base. The round thing on the table in front of him during meetings.

He calls it Sergeant Sharky, everyone starting referring it by the same name.

At night he hold it tight, it's more intimate. He can let himself feel the way he misses home, almost tearing up. He knows you're waiting for him at home, probably preparing for his arrival.

He swears he's the happiest man alive.

When he gets home he tells stories of Sergeant Sharky on the battlefield (never anything gory) his boy being in absolute amazement over how his favorite stuffed animal was a hero with his dad.

He absolutely ravages you that night, almost begging you for another kid, begging to make him a daddy again. He just praises you for being the best mama, the best wife. He has you limping by morning as he holds his son, running around with him as he winks at you, subtly hinting to his son to ask you for a sibling.

Gaz:

I feel like gaz would open it with the team too. Though he'd be much more hidden and private about it.

He immediately smiles when he sees the little white bear inside of the box. He can't help the sadness and yearning he feels almost immediately.

The images of you, laughing in the morning as his son jumps on the bed to wake him up makes his throat burn slightly.

He found the indulging gaze of Price who noticed the fluffy thing.

He'd read the note to himself, hiding it from anyone's gaze.

"to take care of you daddy" he has to blink away the blurriness.

He'd be more secret about it, but as soon as his in his tent the toy is with him at all times. He finds himself sometimes talking to it. "Yeah... I miss home too. We'll go back to them."

He finds himself with a new strength, the battle almost feeling less heavy on him. He's doing it for you. For his son. To try and make the world a better place.

He almost runs home from the airport, throwing the front door open, bags dropping to the floor as you see him. Your mouth opens slightly, shocked, but he sees the relief in your eyes. He kisses you deeply, the sound of tiny running footsteps from the hallway making his heart stammer in his chest.

He's home. That night he makes love to you, lovingly, sweetly and with such love that you find yourself crying and clinging to him. He finds himself absolutely loving the way your son runs into the room by morning, waking him up. He doesn't give a shit how tired he is.

Ghost:

Oh god... Here I go...

When he's handed the box, he frowns. He immediately retreats to his tent to open it. He freezes when he sees the white and brown bunny.

He's scared to touch it. His gloves feel disgusting and tainted with horrors. He rips them off his hands, putting the box down on his bed to rush to wash his hands. They're clean, albeit sweaty but he just can't seem to shake away the feeling of blood on them.

When he finally let's himself touch the soft thing he holds it like it's the most fragile thing he ever touched. It shouldn't be here. So close to him when he's a monster right now.

The note breaks him. "Come back to us" it's your writing, she's too small to write. But there's a tiny sun scribbled in pencil next to it.

He rips off his mask bringing the bunny to his forehead as his head bows down, closing his eyes. He's crying. He feels guilty from being away from you. From his daughter. From home. Home that you allowed him, after he had thought he'd never be worthy of it.

It stays in his things. Hidden. He very rarely takes it out. Tries to not look at it too much. He's almost protecting it from even witnessing the base. Keeping it away from Ghost. That he tried to keep at the front door every time he came home.

When he gets home he needs time. It's always the same. He calls you, announcing that he is back. He takes 24h to remain on base, letting himself split from the battlefield. He needs time. You know it. You understood it.

When he gets home you notice something else this time. His eyes look at you with such adoration that you catch yourself almost hyperventilating. He often looks at you with love and care. But right now he looks at you like you were his goddess, his air and life essence. The same look he gives your daughter, like she's the only thing that ever matters to him.

He sits on the couch later, handing the bunny to his daughter who beams at the sight of her bunny back. He softly thanked her for sending the bunny to him. Softly explains that she should keep it home, it'd get dirty with daddy. You noticed the subtle message underneath his words. You want to hug him. But of course she understands. Such a clever girl.

He fucks you passionately and hard. He marks you with hickeys and bites, he gets lost in you, lost in your scent, the soft sheets are freshly clean. Your moans anchor him to his new found paradise.

He's got a small need to breed you again. But he'd talk to you about it. Beg on his knees if necessary, hoping that you'd be merciful to grant him another miracle. (As if he needed to do anything else but simply ask. Like you weren't the one who'd kneel for him if he asked.)

If you were the one to start the conversation, about, perhaps, maybe, if there was a chance, at some point "just spill it out love" "I want a baby... Again"

Absolutely feral. Literally throws your pill to the trash. It's on.

Doesn't let go of his daughter for days. She's in heaven as daddy holds her whenever she wants, reads her stories and plays with her. He keeps bending you over the nearest surface if she's napping or playing at a family's house (extremely rare, he's a protective wolf over her)

Spoils her rotten, he feels so guilty for leaving for such long periods of time. Spoils you as well.

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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months

Text

Pets

Hardersson x Child Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Rocky the Rock

"Morsa," You say one random day off," Why does Sam have Helen?"

Magda looks up from where she's working on her laptop. You're sitting by the coffee table on the floor, cross-legged as you make your farmyard animals enact something that really reminds Magda of the book Animal Farm which is a little disconcerting but she's trying really hard not to focus on.

"Huh? Helen the cat?"

You nod.

"Well, Sam's got Helen for companionship. Helen's her pet cat."

That makes you frown a little bit. "Why?"

Magda shrugs. "Some people want a pet to keep them company. Some people have cats like Sam, some people have dogs or hamsters or other little things."

You go silent for a moment, you head bobbing up and down in a nod. "Okay," You say," Can I go play outside now, Morsa?"

Magda leans back in her chair to look out the window. It was meant to rain later on today and she didn't want you to get a cold but, thankfully, the sky is clear.

"Do you want someone to kick a ball at you?" Magda asks as she helps you slip on your coat.

"No thank you, Morsa," You say, practically vibrating to be let out," Just going to play."

"Okay. If you get hurt, yell and I'll come out, alright?"

"Okay!"

Magda types away at her laptop for a while as you play in the garden. Every so often, she drags her eyes up to check on you but you're just poking around in the gravel.

When Pernille comes home, you're still there and Magda is still typing.

"Where's Princesse?" Pernille asks before she drops down to steal a kiss.

"She's outside," Magda replies," Hey, Pernille, what does it mean when a kid starts asking about pets?"

"What?"

"Well, she was asking about why Sam has her cat. I said it was for companionship."

"Magda," Pernille says fondly," I love you so much sometimes."

"Sometimes? Not always?"

"You know what I mean. You're so oblivious sometimes."

Magda frowns. "Huh?"

"She's planting the seed in your mind," Pernille explains," So when she asks about getting her own pet then it's not out of nowhere."

"But we can't get a pet!" Magda says," We're moving soon!"

Pernille laughs. "She's probably angling for one when we go back to Germany. She's very smart."

"It's sneaky! Oh my god, are we going to have to start buying pet food?! And vet bills! I don't think there's a good vet near our new place and-"

Magda's mouth snaps closed as Pernille rests her hands on her shoulders. She's giving Magda a pointed look tinged with amusement.

"Magda," She says," Calm down. We're not getting her a pet."

"Oh." Magda blows out all her air. "We're not?"

"No. We'll be much too busy and Princesse's still very little. A pet would just add stress onto everything."

"But she wants one."

"And I want a three course meal and for Sam's whole existence to stop being a threat to Princesse's wellbeing but I'm not getting any of that anytime soon."

Magda laughs. Her hand reaches for Pernille's hip, dragging her closer until she's comfortably sitting on Magda's lap. "I can make you the meal. I'm not too sure I can help with Sam though. I can wrap Princesse up in bubble wrap though."

Pernille smiles. "You're so sweet, Magda." She cards her fingers through Magda's hair, leaning forward to steal a kiss like she did earlier. "You're such a good mother."

Magda rarely gets embarrassed about these things but with Pernille's weight in her lap and you playing in the garden, there are no interruptions. Her face flushes red at the compliments.

"The perfect mother for our little girl," Pernille continues, littering kisses all over Magda's face," You and her are so alike."

"I think she's more like you," Magda can scarcely gets the words out as Pernille bites at her earlobe.

"That's only because you're so oblivious. You and Princesse are more similar than you think."

"Well-"

"Momma! You're home!"

Pernille looks over Magda's shoulder to see you. Your hands are covered in dirt like you've been digging around in the flowerbeds again and you're pulling off your shoes, throwing them onto the floor.

"You look like you've been having fun," Pernille laughs," You're all dirty."

"Only a little," You say, wiping a hand on the front of your shirt," Where's my googly eyes?"

Magda frowns. She'd been preparing herself for you to ask about a pet, not about your arts and crafts supplies. "Er...Should be in the toy box."

"Thank you!"

You run off without even giving Pernille a hug, though she's secretly grateful for that because your hands look to be caked in dirt.

Magda sighs. "Is she going to start sticking those eyes on her shoes again?"

"I hope not. She nearly had a breakdown when they fell off last time."

Neither of them get an explanation about what you're doing with your googly eyes until way after dinner when you stand in front of them sitting on the sofa.

Magda takes a deep breath.

This is it.

It's time to completely break your heart.

"Sam has Helen as her pet," You begin," Morsa says Helen's for companionship."

"Pets are a lot of work," Magda says quickly, wanting the soften the blow," They take a lot of care."

You frown, your crinkle appearing between your brows. "Even the little things?"

"Even them," Pernille says solemnly," The little ones a very complicated. You have to feed them and clean out their cages."

You nod along before," That's okay. I've got one that doesn't need feeding."

That alarms Magda and she remembers how you were poking around in the garden all day. She wonders if you've managed to dig up a mouse or something from the dirt.

Pernille also looks suitably alarmed and her eyes immediately dart to where your hands are hiding behind your back.

"Princesse," She says slowly," Have you brought something into the house that you shouldn't have?"

You shake your head. "He is my pet," You say.

"Princesse-" Magda begins before her mouth hangs open in shock.

"His name is Rocky," You say proudly as you hold up a little granite rock from behind your back. You've stuck a set of three googly eyes on it. "And he is my pet."

"That's a rock," Magda says.

"Yes. Rocky the rock. My pet."

"Pernille, that's a rock."

"I can see that, Magda."

"I found him all by myself," You boast, puffing out your chest," I saved him from the cold and gave him eyes so he can see. He's my pet and he's going to sleep in my bed with me."

Magda can do nothing but stare with an open mouth as you show off your new rock.

"Pernille," Magda manages to whisper as you fawn and coo over your new rock," She dug up a rock."

"Yes, she did."

"She wants to sleep in bed with it."

"Yes, she does."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #The Big Adventures Universe

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wileys-russo · 3 months

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katie mccabe, “are you blushing?”, any place 🫶🏻

hot in here II k.mccabe

"oh gosh its a bit much isn't it?" your mum spoke with wide eyes and a wince as your girlfriend went tumbling to the ground, up on her feet within seconds and shoving at the chest of the player who'd taken her down.

"thats it katie! get into her girl!" your dad cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted supportively as you smacked him on the shoulder. "dad! don't encourage her." you groaned, pulling him to sit back down as both katie and the other player were awarded yellows.

"mccard strikes again." you heard someone chuckle behind you, shaking your head as your dad turned around to speak with them. "she gets a lot of those is all." you explained to your mum who seemed hopelessly confused.

"wait why is there more time?" your mum frowned as they announced there would be three added minutes of injury time. "its extra time to make up for the time where the game isn't played. like if a player falls down and needs medical attention the game is paused, so this is the time added for that interruption." you explained as she exhaled in understanding.

"go on katie! rip in!" your dad shouted as your girlfriend readied herself for a throw in, catching your eye with a wink and a grin before turning and lobbing the ball towards steph. "i hope you know the more you fluff her ego the more insufferable she gets." you sighed as time ticked down.

"ah she's confident! you need confidence to be successful. she's good at what she does and she knows it, that should be encouraged!" your dad patted your knee as you only hummed. "you should try living with her then." you chuckled with a shake of your head.

"oh! theres that lovely song again." your mum beamed as katies chant started up, your dad yelling along as katie took off down the right hand side. "go on katie! go girl!" your dad boomed as suddenly she side stepped the last player in her way and hit the ball with aloud thud, sending it hurtling forward toward alessia who tapped it in widening arsenals 3-0 lead.

you grinned as your girlfriend raced past you and your parents blowing you a kiss and giving them a wave as there was barely time for villa to kick off before the final whistle blew.

"oh that was exciting. i still don't understand much but i see why you like it!" your mum pulled you into a hug making you laugh. "she appreciates you made the effort to come, but she was nervous this morning." you revealed, watching as katie did her laps thanking fans, stopping every now and then to sign something.

"katie? nervous? thats something you need to see to believe!" your dad laughed patting you on the back as you chatted away with them, introducing them to leahs mum who made her way over to say hello, all four of you speaking until you heard a familiar whistle.

"we'll be down in two seconds darling." your mum nodded for you to go as you left them with amanda and made your way down to your girlfriend.

"well aren't you a sight for sore eyes stranger." the irishwoman teased, having been away the last week visiting your parents before they returned back with you to spend the next few days in london.

"wow its been so long when was the last time i saw you? oh was it maybe...this morning in bed?" you teased, having returned last night. "i'd almost forgotten what your face looked like." you winked, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

whatever smooth one line she intended to quip back with was interrupted at the arrival of your parents, katie hopping over the barrier to greet them properly as your dad launched into a very animated recap of how well she played.

"oh and that yellow? load of horse shit you were only defending yourself!" your dad bellowed as you winced, his voice carrying far beyond your small huddle. "dad!" you hissed, katies arm wrapping around your waist as her hand grazed the small of your back in a wordless comfort.

"i warned you they wouldn't let you pay baby." you laughed as you and katie stepped inside your shared home, unwrapping the multitude of layers which had been keeping you protected from the bitter chill of a winter evening in london.

"i'm callin ahead next time and settin up a tab!" your girlfriend scowled, having been easily shut down by your dad who'd paid for everyone's dinner despite both you and katie trying to protest it.

"watch it mccabe, at your age you'll get frown lines and crows feet." you teased, reaching up to smooth the wrinkles from her furrowed forehead. "oi! watch it cheeky i'm only a year older than ya." the defender warned as you sent her a wink and made your way to the living room.

"my parents really enjoyed the game baby, and you certainly gave them a show to watch." you grinned, pulled into your girlfriends lap as she sank into the lounge beside you. "i'm glad they finally got to see one, we'll get em to a national game next and then they'll really see a show!" the brunette smiled wolfishly as you laughed and pressed a tender kiss to her lips.

"i think my dad might actually contend me for your biggest fan, he was going on and on and on about you long before kick off. mum said he stayed up watching a bunch of your highlights in the hotel, she had to take his phone to force him to sleep!" you laughed, a slight pink flush coating your girlfriends cheeks at your words.

"are you blushing?" you gasped, grabbing her face as she frowned and shook her head. "no! its just...warm in here. me cheeks are red from it being so cold outside!" katie dismissed with a wave as you smirked.

"you're blushingg, you're so cute baby." you cooed, pinching her cheeks mockingly and shaking her face side to side teasingly. "aih lay off! i am not and i don't blush." katie scoffed with a roll of her eyes, shoving you off of her causing you to yelp.

"we've got mccabe! who? katie mccabe! who? i just don't think you understand!" you started to cry out, standing to your feet as the footballer stared up at you unamused. "she plays out on the wing, she blushes at every little thing, we've got katie mccabe!" you sang out, squealing as she grabbed at you and pulled you down back to lay across her lap.

"did you not like the remix babe? i think it'll go down a treat at the emirates." you smirked, your girlfriend glaring down at you though you saw the usual sparks of amusement and mischief present in her eyes.

"you're bloody lucky you're so cute darlin or i'd have dropped you a long time ago." "oh god and she's a charmer too? the full package you are love, i'll try to work that into the next verse."

#woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #katie mccabe x reader #katie mccabe #woso community #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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hubbvrd · 3 months

Note

number 45 with joe burrow please 💕💕

Surprise | Joe Burrow

summary — Moving house is not always stress-free. But despite the last few hard weeks, Joe makes sure to put a smile on your face with a surprise

pairing — joe burrow x reader

words — 1952

notes — thanks for your request. I hope you like it!!🧡

The last few weeks and months had been associated with a lot of stress and headaches.

Anyone who loved moving and said that it wasn't so bad and stressful was completely wrong.

For Joe and you, there had been nothing worse in the last few weeks and months than setting up your new home and packing moving boxes.

The countless hours spent in various furniture stores had been a lot of fun for you, but when it came to painting various walls and putting together all the countless pieces of furniture, there was the occasional argument between you out of sheer desperation.

However, you were able to resolve the small arguments about how you should place the furniture in the respective rooms fairly quickly, so that every small argument was resolved within a few minutes.

"This is finally the last one." Joe puts the last box down in the hallway before running his fingers through his completely disheveled hair.

"We've finally done it," you murmur with relief and hand Joe a bottle of water before sitting down on the step and catching your breath.

In the last two hours, you've moved countless boxes from your old home to your new home and dragged them inside, so you're more than sure you'll be feeling sore muscles for the next few days.

"Finally," Joe agrees as he sits down next to you on the step and you rest your head on his shoulder.

"And who's going to unpack all our stuff now?" you mumble tiredly as you look at the piles of boxes blocking the passage to the open-plan living and dining room.

"That's the question..." Joe takes a big gulp from his water bottle before running his fingers through his hair again and letting out a loud sigh.

The move is already pretty exhausting as it is, but then there's the hot weather, which has doubled the strain on your strength.

"How about we take a little break first? We rest and eat a little and then we'll take care of all the boxes?" Joe suggests after a few minutes of silence, which almost caused you to doze off any second.

"Sounds like a great plan. If I knew where my bikini was, I'd jump into the cold water first and inaugurate our new pool."

A highlight for you is definitely the large pool in the garden, where you can swim a few lengths undisturbed or simply float in the water with an inflatable swimming animal.

"Fortunately, I've made sure that we can easily get to our swimming gear.

With a proud smile on his lips, Joe lifts a bag in front of your nose, from which he pulls out your bikini and you jump for joy, shrieking softly around your boyfriend's neck.

"You don't know how much I love you."

You give Joe a kiss on the cheek and then pick up your bikini.

Joe gives you a soft laugh in response.

"Let's see who's in the pool first." He more or less challenges you and before you can answer, Joe has already disappeared into the bathroom to get changed.

"That's not fair! You started way too early!" you shout after him with a laugh and slowly get up from the stairs.

You can already feel the muscles in your arms and thighs starting to ache slightly and you probably won't be able to move without pain tomorrow.

But you don't really care about that right now, because the only thing that matters right now is the pool of your new garden, so you quickly change into your everyday clothes and then throw on your favorite bikini before grabbing your towel and running into the garden.

Your old garden was quite small and had hardly any space to do anything big in it, which wasn't the case at all in the new garden.

The new garden is almost three times the size of the old garden and offers so much space for countless possibilities that the huge green space is almost crying out to be filled with beautiful things.

Once the house is ready, Joe and you will get to work on the garden, for which your Pinterest board was already almost overflowing with countless different possibilities just waiting to be realized.

"Do you want to keep staring at the garden or finally join me in the pool?" Joe's voice pulls you back to the here and now.

Your boyfriend is already in the water, floating on his back through the water, looking so relaxed and rested that a smile spreads across your lips.

"The water's even nice and cold" he adds as he slowly stands up and swims over to the edge of the pool.

"Just what I need, then."

A smile forms on your lips as you walk across the warm lawn to the pool and then sit down at the edge and let your legs slide into the cold water.

A soft sigh leaves your lips as you begin to feel the cold water on your skin. Joe is right, despite the heat today, the water is incredibly pleasant, so you slide into the cool water without hesitation and then stand opposite Joe.

"I was telling the truth," he smiles, trying to tell you that he's not always pulling your leg like you accused him of a few days ago.

Because every now and then Joe loved to pull your leg, more or less.

Just yesterday he tried to convince you to watch a movie that wasn't even supposed to be scary. But in the end, you were so creeped out that you had to bury your face in Joe's shirt for the rest of the movie.

"This time, but who knows when you won't. I think you like to tease me, Burrow, and that's not fair."

You splash a little water on his face, which only makes the person opposite you start to laugh quietly.

"Lie. I would never do this. How could I?" he replies with a laugh and a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"You're such a liar," you pout lightly as you swim towards him and then cling to him, trying to somehow push him under the water, which turns out not to be too easy.

Joe is standing so firmly that you barely manage to move him even an inch.

A resounding laugh rings out above you, which only makes you pout even more.

"That's not fair."

"Oh, y/n. You really are incredibly cute." amused, Joe presses a gentle kiss to your forehead as he wraps his arms tightly around you and starts to swim off with you.

"I'll probably have to eat the whole pizza by myself today so that I can push you under the water tomorrow," you reply with a shrug and a big grin on your lips, to which Joe just rolls his eyes.

"How much time do we have until the pizza arrives?"

After you had put on your bikini, you ordered pizza for both of you via a delivery service so that you didn't have to cook anything or drive out to get something to eat.

"About another thirty minutes."

"That's enough." In one swift movement, Joe lifts you out of the pool and climbs out after you.

"Hey, we haven't been in the pool long," you pout again as Joe puts the towel around your shoulders and you snuggle up in it.

"We still have enough time for this in the coming weeks, months and years."

You watch Joe as he also puts a towel around his shoulders before holding out his hand to you with the words "Follow me, I have a suprise for you"

"A surprise? I love surprises!" you exclaim in anticipation as you take Joe's hand in yours and another soft laugh comes from Joe's direction.

"I know that. That's why I love giving you surprises." Joe squeezes your hand gently before walking with you across the lawn to the small hut at the end of the garden.

In fact, it wasn't exactly rare for Joe to give you a surprise.

He often brought you flowers, your favorite sweets or ice cream after training or after a game.

He also often took you out to dinner or on other romantic dates.

Joe's romantic side was one of the many reasons you fell in love with the Bengals quarterback.

"Do you want to show me all the big, nasty spiders in the cabin?" you ask with a slightly contorted face as you start to think back to the day of the tour.

Because on the day you first visited your dream house and were blown away by it, the hut more or less disgusted you.

Because the huge mess, which was accompanied by countless spiders and cobwebs in the hut, had already given you a big stomach ache during the viewing, so that you were already dreading having to clear this hut of all the spiders and cobwebs one day and then clean it out.

"No, don't worry," Joe assures you as you stop in front of the hut, which now has a new coat of white paint and no longer shows the hideous peeling paint, and Joe takes out the keys.

Outside the windows of the hut you can see white curtains that hadn't been there before.

Before you can even ask Joe why the cabin has curtains, Joe opens the door and gently pushes you inside and what you see inside leaves you open-mouthed.

The walls are lined with countless white bookshelves that reach up to the ceiling. There is a ladder on the shelves, which ensures that you can easily reach the top shelves.

All your books have found their place on the shelves and despite all this, there are still countless free compartments for more new books.

There is also a cozy armchair for reading, a matching stool, lots of fairy lights and lamps, as well as a rug that makes the room even cozier.

"Wow..." you stammer, overwhelmed, as you slowly turn in a circle, trying to take in every corner of the room.

Joe stands in the doorway and watches you with a broad smile as tears slowly well up in your eyes and you look over at him, moved.

"Surprise," he whispers as you cross the room in three long strides and fall into your boyfriend's arms as sobs escape you.

"Thank you, darling," you whisper, sobbing into his chest as he wraps his arms around you and hugs you gently.

"I thought this hut was perfect for your reading room. Here you can read undisturbed and run your book blog and all your other book channels."

"It really is. You don't know how much this means to me, thanks Joe." You slowly lift your gaze and look into your boyfriend's shining eyes.

"I was happy to do that, y/n. It's incredibly important to me that you have your own four walls where you can pursue your passion and since our house isn't really finished yet, it was important to me that this room is finished first and that you have it so that you can retreat and immerse yourself in the world of books."

Joe's words cause countless tears to start rolling down your cheeks.

You can't put into words how touched you are by his words and his surprise, so you whisper a quiet "Thank you" and then press your lips to Joe's.

And you realize once again how much you love Joe. And how grateful you are that he is by your side and that you are the one who gets to wake up by his side every day.

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