aoife had always wanted a daughter.

she grew up without a sister, and she didn’t have many cousins, not ones she saw often enough to count, anyways. she had her mam, but not someone she could spill absolutely all her secrets to. she had her friends — katie and casey were like her sisters, and they were close, but they weren’t family.

which is when she found out she and joey were having a little girl, she could vividly imagine a mini her. long blonde hair. wild child energy. a dazzling smile. she wa so excited for the little girl she had always dreamed off. excited to pass on her wisdom at the salon.

and then you came along.

and you were exactly like joey. you didn’t like pink. you didn’t like to wear the dresses. you didn’t like aoife doing your hair. you liked to roughhouse with your older brother, you liked to play football.

and aoife had supported you — always had and always will. she came to all your football games and cheered when you scored, and she encouraged you to follow your dreams. but deep down, a part of her mourned the girly girl she thought she was going to have. and aoife knows she can’t be mad — because you are her little girl.

you always go to her when you have a problem. you love to gossip. you do your hair and you like make up. that’s what aoife has come to learn — you may not be an extreme girly girl like her, but you are hers.

and while you share a lot of attributes of aoife, you also share a few of joey’s.

his competitiveness. how head strong he is.

which is why now, she’s watching you run around the muddy football field, joey by her side. she watches you run, and she watches as another girl pulls your hair.

you whirl around, and shove her to the floor.

aoife gasps, and joey sighs, stifling a laugh.

yeah — you were the player with the most red cards on the team. a big accomplishment for you, which is a bit concerning for aoife and joey.

“that’s our girl.” joey grins as he watches you get told off by your coach.

aoife just hums, staring at you, biting back a smile.