#i’ll add more tags later... i just want to fall asleep now bc my eyes literally can’t anymore lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chokemeanakin · 3 years

Note

Hello the love of my life, how are you? I’m here to annoy you as always and I was tagged to ask questions but I wanted to add a little bit of ✨spice✨ so these are my questions. I love you so much

How do you get your inspiration?

If you could explain your love language, how would you explain it and which name would you use?

Which are your favourite authors from here?

Which are your favourite fics?

What’s the last thing you read?

Favourite song? Favourite food?

Why is your comfort character your comfort character?

When do you realize you found your comfort character?

Which things do you have in common with your comfort character?

Bye! <3

BABE u are too sweet 🥺 ty for the questions I will answer them now 💖👇🏻:

How do you get your inspiration?

A few ways 😏:

1) getting my heart broken

2) being horny

3) angsty music or going to the theater or reading a really good book

4) the scenarios I make up in my head so I can fall asleep

5) people who send in asks/thoughts to my inbox, y’all are so creative and amazing 💖💖💖

If you could explain your love language, how would you explain it and which name would you use?

Idk much about love languages but i think I took a quiz one time and it was like acts of service and words of affirmation. So yeah I’ll die if you tie my shoe and call me baby 🥺

But also like physical touch... on the down low. only when it’s not sunny outside. don’t ask me to explain that cause I can’t.

Which are your favorite authors from here?

Hmmm I don’t really read from here anymore but they used to be Julia (anakinswhore), she’s on ao3 though as @ anakincanchokemethanks and all of her Star Wars works are on there, she’s also on here as @playlist-library and @mordekaisersbitch

Also @ sunsetkenobi but she’s on ao3 now as @melethwi

and @anakinlove she just knows so much about Star Wars, and she’s a talented artist, and she writes super cute fluff 🥰

There’s probably more I’m forgetting but if you check out my tag #ficrecs you can find ppl I read there

Which are your favorite fics?

Rain Must Fall - anakincanchokemethanks on ao3

A Hard Days Night - anakincanchokemethanks on ao3

After Hours - melethwi on ao3

Alone With You - melethwi on ao3

Shiver - melethwi on ao3

Again there’s definitely more, just check out #ficrecs

What’s the last thing you read?

... 🤭 i actually don’t read much Star Wars anymore. I feel like I’ve seen it all idk 😭

So I’ve been reading a lot of aot fan fiction now for eren and levi oooppsss but ummmmmm @ yagamisdiary has a really good eren ff on wattpad called Parasite yall should go read it it’s soooo good it’s all I read 🙏🏻

Favorite song? Favorite food?

Favorite song ... is a hard one.... I can never choose. so here’s a playlist of my all time favorites, yaknow the ones that never get old and just instantly put me at peace 🥰👇🏻

As for favorite food, either sushi or avocado toast or hot sauce 🙏🏻

Why is your favorite comfort character your comfort character?

Bc he’s pretty and smart and he has a sexy voice and a metal arm and his tiddies are nice and so are his abs and he’s so so tall and he’s like mean but not so mean that it’s awful but like he could be awful if he wanted to, but he’d never be mean to you unless you deserve it because when he loves someone he loves them way too much and I just think he’s cute so yeah 💖

When did you realize you found your comfort character?

Funny story, one of my friends has the same last name as Anakin’s actor and I saw this pic of him when I looked him up:

and I just thought he was super super hot, but I’d never seen Star Wars before, I didn’t even know what the difference between Anakin and Luke was, or Obi-Wan and Han-Solo, and I didn’t know that Anakin was Darth Vader or anything. And then my friend sent an edit of that shirtless scene in rots and I just— I just about busted all over myself ngl 😳🤚🏻

So I finally sat down and forced myself to watch all the movies, basically fell in love with that stupid mf, and a couple months later at the start of quarantine I made this blog and never looked back 🥰🥰🥰

But it was really weird for me ngl, cause like, he’s not even my type. My type is dark hair, dark eyes, hates everyone, quiet, introverted, detests the idea of love.

But Anakin’s like... lighter hair, light eyes, Chad to the Max, loves ppl so much he kills children, mommy’s boy, car nerd, dramatic, etc.

Idk. Something about this mf 🙄🤺🤺🤺

Which things do you have in common with your favorite comfort character?

-both douchebags

-both have anger issues

-both been fucked over one too many times

-both holding on by a thin fucking strand

-both hate children

-both chads 😏

-both love hugs but are too afraid to admit it

-both impatient and are always accusing ppl of things they didn’t do based off of our own insecurities

-both hate meditating but probably should

-both fall in love with things way too quick and way too much

-both a little narcissistic but also hate ourselves

-both like to sip martinis while watching drama unfold

Differences:

-he’s an extrovert and I cry in public situations

-I cry way too much honestly

-but it’s ok cause he’s a wuss for tears

-he’s good under pressure

-he can run a lot without losing his breath

-he can flirt good but I just insult ppl when I try

-he understands mechanics and shit and i’d combust if you asked me to hand u a wrench

-but I can take a straight shot of tequila while I think he’d vomit if he didn’t pour 8 cups of fruit mixer in 😏

-I think he would tastefully use swears, but I just let em fly

-could probably beat me in an arm wrestling match until I make him let me win and then I’d be happy

-this isn’t making sense anymore and you didn’t even ask me for differences 🤣🤣🤣

•••This was fun!! Thank you Leah 💖 I too am counting down the days until Halloween, you know what’s up!!! Best holiday ever 🥰🎃•••

#also ur not annoying!!!#I love u bb 💖💖💖#let’s talk #soft ani thoughts

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slapshot-to-the-heart · 4 years

Text

Death by a Thousand Cuts - j. debrusk

Trying to venture into some new territory, let me know what you think! Title’s from the Taylor Swift song. 4.8k of post-breakup Jake DeBrusk angst, as always, I love hearing feedback! I read all the tags, so feel free to reblog, pop into my inbox, anything!

Wine pairing from someone with zero authority on the subject: a full-bodied Syrah - smooth, fruity, the kind of wine I’d want to drink if I was sad.

My heart, my hips, my body, my love/Trying to find a part of me you didn’t touch

Shadi threw back another shot, wincing as the vodka burned down her throat. Clara rubbed her back sympathetically. “Better?” She shrugged. Alcohol was great for forgetting things, but there were some wounds too fresh and too deep for even a Sazerac to cure. And her wounds were named Jake DeBrusk.

Jake had been her everything, still was her everything, and the idea that she was somehow now in charge of forgetting everything they had shared was more than she could bear. Breakups weren’t something Shadi took lightly, and especially when she had spent the past year falling more in love with him with each breath she took. Forgetting more than a year’s worth of early-morning conversations in his bed, Jake’s hand gently brushing back her hair before kissing her temple and going out to the kitchen to start the coffee pot. Shadi couldn’t start her day without coffee. A year’s worth of games, up in the box with the other WAGs and down in the tunnel, their lips crashing together in the euphoria of a post-win high. A year’s worth of vacations, to Edmonton to visit his family and Dallas to see hers, laying on the white sand beaches of Tahiti in the summer. A year’s worth of falling asleep to him tracing lines between the freckles on her bare back in the glow of the post-sex fog. It wasn’t like she was going to forget any of it anytime soon. And if Shadi was being honest with herself, it wasn’t like she wanted to.

---

Shadi met Jake just after moving into her new apartment with Clara, her best friend from BC, when they decided to celebrate their newfound jobs and independence with a bar crawl. As luck would have it, they never actually made it past the first one. Clara had just finished up her first week as a tenth grade English teacher, and Shadi had the weekend to relax before her marketing analytics post started on Monday.

She wasn't going out to meet someone, not really, but if there was someone attractive enough and charming enough she wasn’t absolutely opposed to spending the night in a bed that wasn’t her own. Shadi sat at the bar, responding to a few texts and sipping her drink as she waited for Clara to return from the bathroom. She wasn’t paying enough attention to her surroundings to notice someone sidle up next to her, getting a little too close for comfort. “Hey,” he said loudly, startling her. Shadi looked up — way up, he was at least six or seven inches taller than her 5’5 — to the stranger’s face, flashing a tight smile. She didn’t know any women who particularly liked to be accosted in the middle of a drink.

“Hey,” she said.

He inched closer. “I’m Darren, nice to meet you.”

As much as she’d really just like to be able to tell the guy to fuck all the way off, Shadi hated that it was a far better decision for her safety and security to just try and tacitly go along with it. Let him down easy.

“Shadi,” she responded.

He whistled, and she internally cringed, trying as subtly as she could to look towards the bathrooms and trying to spot Clara. More than once, they had pretended to be a couple at bars to get each other out of situations exactly like this one. “Shadi,” he said, testing out the name. “What is that? Arabic? Indian?”

Now she visibly cringed, raising her eyebrows. Great, he’s racist as well as a creep. “Neither. I’m Persian.”

“Cool, super cool,” he said, nodding. “So, Shadi, what brings you here?”

“Starting a new job next week,” she said, looking back down at her phone, trying to give him just enough information to keep him from being pissed at her.

Darren finished his drink. “That’s cool, yeah. Good for you. I work in finance. High-level account managing and stuff. It’s a lot of responsibility, but I like the challenge.” Great, add finance bro to the list of reasons why I’ll never go home with this guy, Shadi thought.

“Nice,” Shadi said, looking away and taking a sip of her drink and trying her damndest to make it clear she wasn’t interested.

Darren moved even closer, his hand now resting on her waist as Shadi leaned as far away from him as she could while still staying on her seat, looking frantically around for Clara, or anyone, to bail her out. “You come here with anyone?”

“Uh, yeah,” Shadi said nervously, eyes still sweeping the room. “My boyfriend should be around here somewhere.” Darren didn’t need to know she didn’t have a boyfriend, and as much as she hated that men like him were more likely to leave her alone if they thought she was spoken for than if she told him herself she wasn’t interested, it was the best thing she could do in the moment.

Darren took a cursory glance around the room. “I don’t see anyone coming,” he noted. “You sure about that, Shadi?

“Yes,” she squeaked, as his hand tightened around her waist and she froze like a deer in headlights, too stiff to flag down the bartender.

“It’s polite to look at people when they’re talking to you, or did they not teach that where you’re from?”

Shaking, she turned back to look at him. “I’m from Texas,” she spat.

“I think we could really have some fun together, if you’d just stop being so uptight we could really—” Darren didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, his arm being forcefully removed from her waist. She swung around, meeting the eyes of her unknown savior, who was too busy glaring at the man across from her to even meet her eyes.

“Seems like you’re having a hard time taking no for an answer,” he said.

Darren looked up, rubbing his wrist from where it had been in a vice grip only moments before. “You the boyfriend?”

The other man didn’t even flinch. “Yeah, I’m the boyfriend. Even if I wasn’t, she clearly doesn’t want anything to do with you, but she’s just too polite to tell you to fuck off. Luckily,” he smirked. “I’m not.”

Darren rolled his eyes, grabbing his half-empty glass and inching away from the bar. “Whatever. Wouldn’t have been worth it anyways.”

Shadi collapsed into her hands as soon as he was out of earshot, breathing shakily. The stranger reached out tentatively, rubbing her shoulder to comfort her. “You okay?”

She leaned back, taking another drink and nodding. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be okay, it’s not like it’s the first time this has happened. He just really didn’t want to leave me alone and I couldn’t find my friend and he didn’t seem to be getting the message that I wasn’t interested.”

He grimaced. “On behalf of my entire gender, I apologize for all the shitty men you have ever had to encounter.”

“Thank you,” she said, laughing slightly and setting her glass back down on the bar. “And thanks for stepping in, you really didn’t have to.”

He shook his head. “I just did what any decent guy would do. I’ve got a sister, girls deserve to feel safe in bars.”

“Regardless,” she added, “I appreciated it. And just so you know,” she said, pausing, “you don’t have to worry about an actual boyfriend coming around. I’ve just found it’s the easiest way for guys to leave me alone.” Shadi surprised herself; she wasn’t normally this bold.

He dipped his head. “Good to know. Probably should properly introduce myself, then. Jake DeBrusk,” he said, sticking his hand out.

“Shadi Azizi.” She shook it, smirking slightly as she took a sip of her drink. “I know.”

He smiled bashfully, scratching his head. “Hockey fan?”

She nodded. “I’ll go to Bruins games when I can make it, but I’m from Dallas, so…” she shrugged.

“You’ve already sold your soul to the Stars,” Jake finished.

Shadi laughed. “Yep. You can take the girl out of Texas, but you can’t take the Texas out of the girl.”

Jake eyed her glass, seeing that she was nearly finished. “Can I get you another?” Shadi nodded after a moment. “Sure.” He caught the bartender’s eye. “What are you drinking?” “Whiskey on the rocks.” Jake leaned back on his stool, clutching his hands over his chest. “A woman after my own heart.”

---

Three months later, it was November, and Shadi was in Jake’s kitchen, doling out Chinese takeout onto two plates. “Beer?” she asked over the counter, to where Jake was flopped on the couch, flipping through channels in hopes of finding something mildly interesting to watch.

“Yes please,” he shot back. He had just gotten back from a road trip that afternoon, eleven days in the Midwest, and there were few things he wanted more than to be back in Shadi’s arms. They had started a sort of unspoken tradition; Shadi had taken to spending the night whenever Jake came back from a road trip, and he wasn’t about to start complaining. He loved his job and he loved his team, but after a week or two of being around them practically 24/7, he didn’t want to waste any time getting back to her.

Shadi padded back towards the living room, sliding a plate of lo mein and fried rice over to Jake, who leaned in and kissed her shoulder. “Thanks, babe,” he said, putting the remote down. “Parks and Rec good with you?”

She nodded, mouth full. “Doesn’t take much to convince me. I’d kill a man for Leslie Knope.”

Jake laughed. Shadi looked over at him, one eyebrow raised. “You think I’m joking?”

He held his free hand up in mock surrender, the other balancing his plate on the arm of the couch. “I should have known better. Will you ever forgive me?”

“Maybe,” Shadi said, scrunching up her nose. “I think I can find it somewhere deep in the recesses of my cold, dead heart.”

Things between Jake and Shadi had gotten pretty serious pretty quickly, certainly more quickly than Jake was expecting. But, as he was realizing, that wasn’t exactly a bad thing. The scene was definitely more domestic than he was used to; it wasn’t unusual for him and Shadi to join some of their friends or the team for a night out at the bars or clubs, but it was just as common to have an evening in. It was nice, being together like this. Domesticity was never something that was quite his style, but as he thought, looking over at Shadi, who was entirely engrossed in Leslie’s valiant attempts to control a town hall meeting, maybe it could become his style.

You said it was a great love, one for the ages/But if the story’s over, why am I still writing pages?

It was the end of January, and Shadi was in Edmonton. Jake had told her about Boston’s bye week about two months earlier, the plan having originally been to drive up to New Hampshire for a week of camping in White Mountain. But then Jake had been selected for the All-Star Team, much to his surprise — not Shadi’s, who had been convinced he’d be picked practically since the season started — and their schedule had been turned on its head. He had decided that it would make more sense to visit his family. Shadi didn’t complain; she had just started to get used to Boston winters, and wasn’t confident in her ability to go a week in a tent in the middle of January.

What surprised her, though, was when he invited her to come with him. She had never met his parents in person before. Over FaceTime, sure, but it wasn’t the same. Jake was initially very shy about extending the invitation, almost as if he wasn’t sure if that was something she wanted or was ready for. His concern was sweet, but Shadi was more touched that he had asked her to come in the first place, and put in her request for vacation time that night.

The flight wasn’t much over six hours, a short layover in Montréal and one connection later and they landed in Edmonton. Shadi met up with Jake just outside of passport control, pulling her pea coat tightly around herself. “Ooh,” she said, breathing out shakily. “Bit chilly here, no?”

Jake laughed. Oh, if only she knew. “Wait till you get outside, babe. It’s January in the middle of Alberta.”

“How bad can it get?” Shadi asked naively. Pretty bad, as she found out the moment they stepped outside the terminal into the freezing air. She was suddenly very grateful her parka was in her bag, a Patagonia jacket that had been one of her first big purchases when she moved to Boston. Jake was having a very good fun time poking fun at her in the three minutes it took for his parents to pull up.

“Aww, is my Texas girl cold? Is she having trouble dealing with real weather?”

Shadi glared at him. “Shut up.”

His parents were incredible, kind and welcoming from the moment they picked them up at the airport. They drove them back to Jake’s childhood home, where his sister greeted her with a hug. She had visited Boston a few weeks prior, her and Shadi immediately getting along thanks to their shared taste in coffee orders and music. They had swapped Spotify playlists more than one time since her visit.

The week she spent in Edmonton was amazing. Even though she may have been a little bit apprehensive from the start, all of her worries were just distant memories by the time they had to get back on the plane. She had always been good with parents; whether it was her best friend or her boyfriend, they had always liked her. Making a good impression and being unfailingly respectful, especially to her elders, was a value that had been instilled in her from a young age. She had brought a tin of qurabiya on the plane as a gift for them, after a half-dozen Google searches to make sure she could bring them across the border and a twenty minute long phone call with her mom to make sure she was using the right type of almonds. They loved them, and seeing the tin already empty on the third day of her trip filled her heart.

“She’s really good for you, you know,” his mom said, as he was packing his suitcase for the flight back. “You’re still you, fun and spontaneous and caring. But you’re a more mature, thoughtful version of yourself. And I think that’s thanks to Shadi.”

Jake blushed, shoving his toothbrush in his toiletry bag. “She is. She’s great, Mom. We have so much fun together, and she really does bring out the best in me.” He paused for a moment. “I think I’m in love with her.”

His mom raised her eyebrows, not surprised and certainly not disappointed, but a little astonished that he had realized himself what she saw from the moment they had landed in Canada. She had just been waiting for him to admit it. “You do?” she asked, a hint of a smile on her face.

He nodded, more sure this time. “I’m in love with her, Mom.”

Quiet my fears with the touch of your hand/Paper cut stings from our paper-thin plans

“You doing okay, babe?” Clara asked gently, one hand on Shadi’s back as she nursed her third beer of the night. Shadi reached up to try and wipe away her tears. Thank God she hadn’t worn any mascara. She nodded, trying to flash her best friend a smile, but it didn’t meet her eyes.

Shadi hadn’t ever been the kind of person to put up walls. That was Jake’s thing. But she was a great actress, and if Clara hadn’t known her as well as she did, she wouldn’t have been able to call her on it.

“Bullshit, Shadi. You’re not fine and I know it. You know it.” God, Clara could read her like a book. It wasn’t okay, she wasn’t okay, and she sure as hell wasn’t over him. She didn’t know when she would be over him. If ever.

They said that Rome wasn’t built in a day, but it burned in one. If Rome was a metaphor for their relationship, Shadi would say there’s never been a more accurate phrase. All it took was five minutes for Jake to break her heart, for the world they had built together to come crumbling apart around her. As much as she hated it, there was still a part of her that couldn’t help but try to look back on that night. Shadi almost called bullshit on him the moment he said he was breaking up with her, because he had never even brought it up before, and that’s not something you just drop on someone like he did, right? But she didn’t, she hadn’t gotten closure and hadn’t gotten a reason, an actual reason, and so any curly hair she saw out of the corner of her eye that night she kept hoping was Jake’s, and any cocky smile from some guy trying to buy her a drink — she’d let them, for the free alcohol, but they never got a conversation out of her — she kept wishing was his.

---

It was September, and Shadi felt like she was walking on air. She and Jake had celebrated their one year anniversary a month ago, and things couldn’t be going better. Training camp for the new season had started, which had begun to take up more of his time than she maybe would have liked, but she was dealing with it. They both were. It was like Shadi had told him two months into their relationship, and countless times since: she knew what she was signing up for, knew that sometimes she would have to take a backseat to hockey, and she was okay with that. Having Jake some of the time was better than not having him at all.

So when Jake had texted her that morning, asking if she was free to come over that night, she thought nothing of it. Well, scratch that, she thought a lot of it. It had been about two weeks since they had had a proper date night; while she loved him sneaking into her apartment to sleep for a few hours before he had to get up or meeting in the mornings for coffee and bagels, they were in desperate need of some alone time. Jake hadn’t exactly been distant since their anniversary, but it had definitely seemed like something was on his mind. And when she asked Clara, or her older sister Yasmin, or Hannah, her best friend in Houston, they all said the same thing. If nothing seemed like it was going wrong, but he was seeming distant, but they were still communicating, then there was really only one possibility, at least according to them. He was going to propose.

So Shadi took a little longer in front of the mirror, put on her good jeans instead of just a pair of sweats, ran a comb through her hair. She grabbed her car keys, locking the door to her apartment and nervously pressing on the elevator button. Why was she nervous? She was in love with Jake. She saw a future with him, a future together. If tonight was going to be the start of forever, there was nothing to be afraid of. I wonder what Jake’s doing now, Shadi thought. Was he waiting for her on the couch? Trying to cook pasta, the only dinner he could reliably make without burning? Pacing back and forth in his room, turning over the ring box in his hand? The ring. What did it look like? Did he buy it new, or was it a family heirloom? Did he ask any of the guys on the team for tips, or did — Stop it, Shadi reminded herself. He doesn’t have to be proposing. We do nights in almost every week. Maybe he just wants to watch a movie. But in the back of her mind, as she pulled out of the parking garage, was the possibility that she was about to walk into one of the most important nights of her life. And it was, but not in the way she thought. Not in the way she wanted.

Jake’s place was only ten minutes away from hers; before she even knew it, she was killing the engine and walking up the stairs to his door. She tapped her knuckles against the wood. It was barely ten seconds before Jake opened it up, smiling at her. “Hey, thanks for coming over,” he said, leading her into the living room and pressing a kiss against her cheek, lingering a little longer than usual

Shadi knew something was off even as they sat on the couch thirty minutes later, Star Wars playing on the screen in front of them. If she was being honest, she knew something was wrong from the moment she got there. Jake was acting stuff, not distant, but almost confused. LIke he had something on his mind that he couldn’t quite spit out. And it didn’t seem like a proposal. “Alright,” Shadi said, huffing and propping herself up on one arm to face Jake. “What’s up.”

To his credit, he didn’t mince words, didn’t play dumb. He knew better than to insult her intelligence like that, and she knew better than to believe him. “You noticed, huh?”

She rolled her eyes. “I love you for a lot of reasons, J, but you really do have a terrible poker face.”

Jake sighed, running a hand through his hair, leaving a piece hanging in front of his eye. “Alright,” he said, in that kind of I-know-what-I-need-to-say-but-I-don’t-want-to-say-it tone, the one that she wasn’t expecting. The one that never means good news. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking on my life, our lives over the past thirteen months we’ve been together, and I’ve loved every minute of the time that we’ve spent together.” Okay, Shadi furrowed her brows, where’s he going with this? “I’ve also been doing a lot of thinking about my priorities in life, where they are right now and where I think they should be. And I’ve realized that,” he swallowed, “I’m at a place in my life where I need to be focusing on hockey.” Oh no. “And I don’t think I’m in a position where I can have a relationship and be as invested in my career as I need to be.” Oh God.

Shadi sat up, stunned. “Are you...Are you breaking up with me?”

Jake nodded his head jerkily. “And I want you to know that I don’t regret anything about our relationship. I don’t have anything bad to say about you, or the time we’ve spent together, or anything. I just don’t think I’m able to give you, or our relationship, the attention it deserves. You deserve someone who’s going to be able to dedicate a hundred percent to you, and as much as I wish I could, I don’t think I’m that person.”

“So, you’re saying I’m a distraction?” Shadi asked slowly, her eyes shiny with unshed tears.

Jake ran a hand through his hair, tangling his fingers in his curls. “Fuck. No. That’s not it. I just don’t know if I’m in a place where I’m able to juggle two things that are so important, and that I want to dedicate this much time to.”

She scoffed. “Are you really trying to pull the whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ line with me, DeBrusk?” That stung. She never called him by his last name, not even when they started dating. It was J, or babe, or even Jake if she was particularly annoyed, but never just DeBrusk.

“Would it make you feel better if I was?”

Shadi shook her head. “It’s worse. Don’t you know that it’s worse? Because then there’s not anything I feel like I could have done differently. Nothing I could have done to change your mind.” Her eyes drifted down to her right hand, where the gorgeous pearl ring Jake had gotten her for their anniversary just a month prior sat on her ring finger. “You said you were going to marry me one day,” Shadi said, sliding her fingertips down to the band and gently twisting it off. Her hand felt bare, even though it had only been there for a month. Jake’s breath caught in his throat. Never make a promise you can’t keep.

Saying goodbye is death by a thousand cuts

God, sometimes Shadi just felt so fucking stupid. She almost felt naive, shortsighted from not listening to her friends in Boston, or people back home who warned her about Jake.“You know his reputation. You know how hockey players are” Shadi couldn’t count the number of times people had told her that, and the number of times she hadn’t listened. “He doesn’t stick with any one girl.” “I know you like him, but he’s only going to break your heart.” But the thing was, he hadn’t. Jake had made it clear, straight from the start of their relationship, that they were exclusive, and he backed it up. She wore his jersey to games, went as his date to all the Bruins fundraisers, and took the week off to come with him when he was selected for the All-Star Game. Jake knew his reputation better than anyone, and that’s why he was so committed to making sure she knew that he wasn’t the kind of guy everyone kept trying to peg him as. And Shadi had never felt so much pride then when she was able to turn around, prove them wrong, and say: “You see? He’s never done anything to hurt me, and he’s not about to start now.”

But she couldn’t, not anymore. She couldn’t, because they all had been right and he had broken his promises and her heart and now she was crying in a bar with her best friend on a Friday night and had no clue how to get a grip of her feelings. She pounded back another beer, barely even stopping to swallow before ordering a fourth round. Or was it a fifth? She didn’t know, and at that point, she really didn’t care.

I get drunk, but it's not enough/’Cause the morning comes and you're not my baby

Sometime past one but before her next door neighbor’s chihuahua always started barking at two, Shadi stumbled into her apartment. She unstrapped her heels and placed them haphazardly by the door as she walked down to the bathroom, reaching around the cupboard for her toothpaste. Teeth were brushed and flossed, and she had shed nearly all of her clothes by the time she reached her bed. She grabbed the nearest sweatshirt to pull over her body as makeshift pajamas, only half paying attention. Shadi was too tired to look too closely; if she had, she would have noticed that it was a Bruins hoodie, the very first one Jake had ever given to her, a month and a half into their relationship.

It seemed like Shadi had barely drifted off to sleep when she was woken up by the sound of frantic knocks on her door. Her first thought was something was wrong with Clara, who lived down the hall, that she wasn’t feeling well or needed to be talked out of texting her ex-girlfriend. It had happened before. But then she realized that Clara would have called first. Then her thought was a fire somewhere, but she didn’t smell smoke and her alarm hadn’t gone off. The knocking persisted. “Okay, okay, I’m coming. You’re going to wake up the whole building,” Shadi grumbled, throwing back the covers and padding out to the living room, pants be damned.

She tried to wipe the sleep out of her eyes, the harsh light of the hallway fluorescents the first thing she noticed as the door swung open. The second thing was the person standing in front of it. It was Jake. His hand was frozen in the air, like he was about to knock for a fourth time if she hadn’t answered. “What are you doing here?” she whispered, her voice small. She didn’t trust it to speak any louder.

Jake’s breath hitched as he noticed what she was wearing. His sweatshirt. He stuffed his hand into his jeans pocket, pulling out her pearl ring. The same one she had taken off the day he left, the same one he had given her when his thoughts of the future were filled with big houses and weddings and kids’ birthday parties. He held it out to her. “I had to see you.”

#hockey imagine #hockey smut #nhl imagine #nhl smut #jake debrusk #boston bruins #hockey #hockey imagines #hockey writing #nhl #nhl imagines #nhl writing

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elsaclack · 6 years

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This is really random but I saw a fic of yours about Amy being sick (I think the prompt was "Amy yells at the Vulture") but I can't find the full piece anywhere. Is it on AO3 anywhere? I love your writing and I completely understand if you just didn't want it out anymore. Just thought I'd ask! :)

i thought it was but i just went and searched my entire work history (including all 70+ chapters of those god-forsaken oneshot collections) and i couldn’t find it anywhere!! i guess i forgot to cross-post it back when i first wrote it, and it got lost when i deleted the original elsaclack. but i just scoured my docs list and found it buried in a random folder so i’ll repost it here and add it to the newest one-shot collection on ao3 :)

fun fact: this was written almost exactly 2 years ago!!! meaning that my writing skills have developed considerably since i actually wrote this. aka please don’t judge me if this seems like a sudden regression haha

also i wanna tag @phil-the-stone-art bc we actually developed the concept of The List together so she’s at least 35% responsible for this fic lmao

under the cut!

Amy Santiago does not get sick, thank you very much. She prides herself on her meticulous nightly hygienic rituals, on the cabinet full of multivitamins and minerals she takes on a daily basis in her bathroom, on the rigorous workout routine and diet she keeps herself on each week to maintain perfect health. She lives her life by a very tight plan (laid out in checklists and carefully organized in color-coded binders) that simply does not afford her any extra time to be sick.

Which is why, when she wakes up one Tuesday morning with a head stuffed full of cotton and violent shivers rolling down her spine, she gets up to start her usual routine in spite of the fact that she feels like she hasn’t actually slept in three weeks. Jake’s still snoring on the other side of the bed, another hour away from getting up to haphazardly dress in whatever flannel he can find lying on her bedroom floor that doesn’t smell too dirty, and he doesn’t even stir at the sound of her shuffling footsteps or running nose.

She drags herself into the bathroom, shuts the door, and flicks the lights on. Her reflection honestly makes her jump back an inch or two; she’s never seen her skin quite so pale, or bruises beneath her eyes quite so dark, or her lips quite so visibly dry and cracked. She reaches out to grip the edges of her sink and realizes that her arms and hands are trembling, and when she leans a bit more weight onto them she notes that her knees are quaking beneath her.

All in all, not a great start to the day.

She presses on, though, ignoring her running nose and congested head and general exhaustion. The shower helps a little, but not much.

When she shuts the water off, she hears Jake moving around in her bedroom, and her heart skips a beat. She hadn’t even realized she’d been in the shower that long. “Jake?” She calls as she wraps a towel around herself. Her voice is coarse and rough.

“Hey,” he knocks lightly at the door. “You okay?”

“Yeah - yeah, could you, um…there’s a binder out on the dining room table, should say something on the cover about that case I was working on last night -” she clears her throat and winces at the sharp pain that responds “- could you grab it and put it in my bag?”

“Sure,” he’s quiet for a moment and Amy’s left to gently rub at her temples with the heels of her hands. “Are you sure you’re okay? You sound awful.”

“I’m…I’m fine.”

But she’s not. Her knees are still quaking and vertigo has suddenly set in and she’s swaying, reaching out to grab the tiled edge of her shower. Her hand slips against the wet surface and she falls forward, shoulder banging painfully into the tiles.

The door swings open and Jake bursts inside in a panic. “Ames? Oh my God!” She suddenly realizes that she’d sunk down to a crouching position upon falling. He kneels next to her, gently pulling her away from the shower and letting her lean heavily into him. Her head falls against his shoulder, forehead pressed to the crook of his neck, and she hears him tut. “You’re burning up, babe,” he says quietly.

“I’m fine,” her voice fails half-way through and she ends up finishing in an unconvincing whisper.

“You’re not going to work today,” he tells her.

“But -”

“You almost fainted just now, Amy. You’re staying home sick today.”

She tries to argue but he pulls her up off the ground, keeping his touch firm and steady should gravity leave her again, and her voice completely dies on the way out of the bathroom. He lets her whisper weak arguments as he steers her gently toward the bed, humming and nodding along as he pulls fresh sweatpants up her legs and eases one of his academy shirts over her head. He pushes back on her good shoulder with just enough force that she lays down and pulls the comforter up to her chin. Her eyelids flutter closed when he presses a kiss against her forehead.

“I’ll tell Captain Holt where you are,” he says quietly. His hand finds hers against the mattress, fingers twisting through hers. “Get some sleep, okay?”

She’s asleep before he even gets out the front door.

A few hours later she’s roused by the sound of her phone vibrating on her bedside table. Sunlight streams in through her window and she squints, disoriented, fumbling around with semi-numb fingers for her phone.

From: Jake PeraltaHow u feelin? Miss u at work. Charles says he’ll bring u goat soup later lol

It hurts to even swallow, and Amy has to work really hard to keep from whining at the splitting headache igniting behind her right eye.

To: Jake PeraltaFeel like garbage. I haev a headache. Im afraid to get out of bed for meds. Miss u too

She waits five minutes for him to respond, and when her phone remains motionless, she closes her eyes and lets it fall against her chest.

Precisely twenty minutes after that, she hears her front door open. It closes again and she hears footsteps crossing her living room and it only just hits her that someone is in her apartment when those footsteps cross the threshold of her bedroom.

“Hey, hey, don’t get out of bed,” Jake says soothingly. Amy falls back against her pillow from her struggling half-sitting up position as Jake drops a plastic grocery bag at the foot of her bed and perches on the edge of the mattress beside her. He replaces her phone back on her bedside table with one hand and smooths his other palm over her forehead (and she only just then realizes that she’s sweating) and grimaces. “You’re still burning up,” he says, running his fingers through her hair just above her forehead.

“I’m fine,” she whispers, and the words slip out between two wet coughs.

He frowns and gently scratches his short nails against her scalp. “I brought Advil,” he says, casting an absent glance over his shoulder at the bag he brought in, “and stuff to make soup. It’s the recipe for Nana’s matzoh ball soup.” She raises her eyebrows beneath his palm and he grins down at her. “Don’t tell Charles, but it’s literally the best soup you’ll ever have and it’ll cure your dumb cold in twenty minutes or less.”

“Promise?”

He leans down and pecks a kiss against her forehead. “Promise,” he says when he leans away. “I’m gonna go make some and bring it in here and you’ll be back on your feet before the end of the day. Peralta Guarantee.” He winks.

She sinks down into the mattress as much as she can when he stands up, opening her eyes only when he comes back in with two Advil tablets and a glass half-full of water. Within minutes she begins hearing pots and pans knock around in her kitchen, and through her cloudy mind she registers that her stomach is rumbling in irritation.

“Alright,” he announces from her doorway. Her eyes split open and he’s carefully balancing the soup bowl on top of her dresser. “I’ll help you sit up, don’t move.”

He pulls her up with one hand and waits until she’s sitting up steadily before hurriedly stacking her pillows up behind her. She breathes a sigh of relief when she leans back, not realizing just how much of a strain sitting up is until that moment. He hurries back to where the soup is still steaming and carefully brings it over to her, the tip of his tongue appearing at the corner of his mouth for how hard he has to concentrate on not spilling any.

He nestles it in her lap, and she smiles, because he looks so proud of himself and he’s really so adorable.

Jake stays with her until she finishes the whole bowl and then he takes her dishes from her and quickly rinses them out in her sink.

“I’ll be back after work to check on you and to finish cleaning that, okay?” He calls from her doorway.

She hums hoarsely and fades out of consciousness.

An hour later, Amy wakes up feeling half-human. Her head and throat still hurt and she still can’t breathe out of her nose, but her brain doesn’t feel quite so fried and her limbs don’t feel quite so weak anymore.

Jake was right - the soup really did help.

Not as much as Nyquil would, but…still.

She kicks the comforter off and moves to sit up, and her phone suddenly falls into her lap from her chest. She pauses, staring at it, trying to remember when it ended up back there. She has no new calls or texts, but when she unlocks the screen, there’s a new note pulled up.

Things i want t odo to jake in bed

Amy feels flames engulf her face that have absolutely nothing to do with her fever. The list has twelve items on it, each one raunchier and riddled with more spelling errors than the last, and by the time she gets to the end of the note she’s covering her face in embarrassment. She’s got just the vaguest memory of typing it (and it’s really more of a dream of a memory than anything else), but none of it will solidify into more than just faint snapshots in her head.

But the more she rereads it, the more heat begins building in her body - heat from the mental images, heat from the germs ravaging her body, heat from the thick comforter still draped over her legs.

She has got to go get some Nyquil.

Santiago Determination blazes through her as she drags herself out of bed, shoulders set and jaw clenched as she pulls one of Jake’s hoodies over her frame and slides her feet into her rarely-worn flip-flops. Part of her feels guilty, knowing that if Jake was the one home sick she’d insist on him texting her anything he needs so that he would stay in bed and recover faster, but she brushes it off as she grabs her purse.

What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?

She blames her scattered brain on the matzoh ball soup later. She blames her compromised detective skills and her lack of attention to detail and her general disorientation on the soup. Because under normal circumstances, no matter how sick she truly is, she would definitely have noticed the Vulture browsing the low aisles of the bodega around the corner from her house immediately upon walking through the front doors.

But as it is, she doesn’t, which means that he gets a visual on her before she’s even aware of being spotted.

She’s so busy perusing the medicine section toward the back that she doesn’t notice him stalking around the shelves, doesn’t feel him peeking around the Doctor Scholl’s cardboard display, doesn’t hear him mutter at a mother and daughter to get out of his way as he follows her ambling walk down the aisle. She isn’t aware of the danger until he’s basically on top of her.

“Yo, Santiago,” he says, his voice low and curdling. She winces and turns slowly, and he’s leaned against the shelves to her left, leering down at her. A handcart hangs between them; it’s full of at least thirty boxes of condoms, she realizes when she glances down. Her stomach shifts unpleasantly. “You look homeless.”

“Get out of the way,” she whispers hoarsely.

“Aw, what’s the matter? Peralta got you screaming so hard every night you lost your voice?”

Heat bursts through her cheeks and she glances back, meeting the scandalized look on that same mother’s face with an apologetic grimace. “Shut up.” She snaps as fiercely as she can.

He smirks, because her voice only comes in bursts. “Damn, you really let yourself go, didn’t you?” His eyes rove her body and she’s suddenly very keenly aware of the fact that she’s not wearing any underwear beneath her sweatpants. She can feel her face blossoming.

“Whatever.” She turns away quickly and digs her phone out of her purse, cursing when she hears the Vulture following her down the aisle. She dials Jake’s number quickly, and he answers after just two rings.

“Hey, is everything oka-”

“I need you go come to the bodega by my apartment,” she whispers. She can feel her hand trembling again and she curses whatever part of her thought it would be a good idea to do this on her own.

“Wait, what? Why are you -”

“I thought I could walk over here and get what I needed without you, but -” she winces at the sound of the Vulture’s laugh, loud and obnoxious behind her. “But I ran into someone and I need you to come save me.”

“Santiago, look - they do make extra-small condoms! Should I put a whole box in for you and Peralta or is that too many?”

She hears a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. “Is that the Vulture?” He asks quietly.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Do not faint.”

“I’m doing my best, but please hurry.”

Amy starts pacing up and down the aisles, doing her best to block the Vulture out. He trails along behind her, alternating between making lewd sexual innuendos about random items on the shelves they pass (“Everything’s a sex toy if you try hard enough,” while pointing out a plastic broom) and insulting her general appearance (“Y’know, you were much sexier before Peralta dragged you down to his level of ugliness. Just make sure your ass doesn’t get as fat as his”). It’s around the time they make it back to the medicine aisle that he turns to making fun of Jake himself.

“I still can’t believe you’re with that loser,” he laughs as Amy finally swipes a bottle of Nyquil off a lower shelf. She stands up slowly, gripping the shelves above her firmly, as a wave of vertigo hits her once again. “You’re hot as shit usually - not right now, obviously - I bet you could sleep with any guy you want.”

She clenches her jaw and tries to calculate how long it’s been since she hung up with Jake.

“I bet the sex is really boring, too,” the Vulture continues. “I bet it’s all missionary and full of, like, eye-contact and shit. I bet he tells you he loves you because you don’t make fun of his tiny weiner.”

“Okay, y’know what?” She snaps, and suddenly her voice is half back. “First of all, there’s nothing wrong with missionary if you do it right. Secondly, you’re full of crap if you really think eye-contact is boring. Third, you’re right, he does tell me he loves me, because he actually loves me, you sexist pig. And fourth, he’s not tiny.”

“Whatever. He’s a joke, just like you, and I bet the sex sucks and you’re both so bad at it that you can’t even tell that it sucks.”

She knows people are staring, but her brain just isn’t functioning right. She yanks her phone out of her purse and quickly scrolls over to her list. “Jake’s the best sex I’ve ever had, okay? In fact, he’s so good that I made a list!” She shoves her phone in his face and scrolls quickly, grinning in manic triumph at the dumbfounded look on his face. “I made a list of all the things I want to do with him because he’s so unbelievably good. You wish you were as good as him.”

He is, for once, speechless. Amy locks her phone and steps back, smug grin on her face. The Vulture’s eyes flicker to something over her shoulder and she sees the spark of recognition in his face; when she turns, she feels her stomach drop down to her toes.

Jake’s standing at the end of the aisle, looking just as dumbstruck as the Vulture. She gasps, and the sound comes out like a ragged squeak. His mouth is hanging open but his brows draw together at the sound.

“Ja- Jake,” she says hoarsely.

This seems to snap him out of his stupor. His mouth snaps closed and he immediately begins striding down the aisle toward her and there’s something new in his eyes - smug and barely-contained glee, maybe - when he throws his arm around her shoulders. “Hi, honey,” he says, laying a kiss against her temple and pulling the bottle of Nyquil from her grasp. “Let’s get you back in bed.”

“Yeah, well, you’re both a couple of losers!” The Vulture shouts after them. Jake twists around and flashes his middle finger at him and grins into Amy’s hair at the sound of his splutters. “I’m buying thirty-five boxes of condoms!”

“You’re amazing.” Jake murmurs once they’re outside of the store. “But next time, just call me instead of trying to go get stuff on your own. I really don’t mind doing it for you. That’s what boyfriends are for.”

She sinks into the passenger’s seat of his car and sighs in relief; her body is already aching from the exertion of just a lap around the bodega. She feels Jake slide in on the driver’s side, feels the engine roar to life beneath her and the air conditioner tickle across her face. The car lurches a little when he puts it in drive and then his free hand finds hers and interlaces their fingers.

“I’m sorry about…that.” She whispers once he’s pulled away from the curb.

“It’s fine, but I really mean it about calling me next time, okay? ‘Specially since you almost fainted this morning and everything, like, what would’ve happened if you’d fallen and hit your head and they took you to the hospital? They would’ve called Manny and it would’ve taken him three hours to get here and -”

“Wait, no, they’d call you,” she interrupts. “Manny’s not my emergency contact anymore. You are.”

He turns his head toward her and stares.

“I changed it two years ago, Peralta. Way before we started dating. I just figured, y’know, since you’re my partner and everything, you’d be able to get there the fastest. And, besides, that’s not even what I was talking about. I meant…the stuff I said to the Vulture. The list.”

“Oh,” he shrugs. “I don’t really care. The guy’s an ass. I could hear him yelling all the way from the front doors. Besides, you weren’t lying.”

He squeezes her hand a few times in quick succession and she snorts. “So you’re…not mad? About any of it?”

“I’m more curious than anything else. Do I get to look at the list, too? Or is that just between you and the Vulture?”

“I can’t stand you.”

She does let him see it once they’re back to her place. He reads each item carefully three times over without ever saying a word, and then stands and grabs his laptop and a notepad off of her dining room table. When she asks what he’s doing, he responds with a muttered “research” and then promptly tells her to finish her soup.

The night passes in a haze that has nothing to do with the cold or the soup or the medicine, and the next morning she wakes to the sounds of Jake’s congested voice explaining through chest-rumbling coughs that neither he nor Amy would be making it into work that day.

#em answers #brooklyn nine nine #amy santiago #jake peralta #jake x amy #my b99 fics #god i've been writing for b99 for a Really Long Time #sos #Anonymous

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moiraineswife · 6 years

Text

Molly/Yasha headcanons

because I have Feelings from the last episode.

-Molly is the only person currently allowed to touch Yasha. This is because he built it up gradually, over a long period of time, and asked for permission every time until one day she quietly told him he was now An Approved Person and it was all good. Is secretly very fond of his affectionate little head kisses and shoulder pats (he never really goes in for the hug unless there was a near-death experience, he is approved but she’s still not super big on the touchy-feely thing)

-Yasha always has Molly’s back. Always. And she 100% will Loom over anyone who even thinks about giving him shit. Like, he’s getting a bit of shit off a couple of guys for being a tiefling and he’s just being sarky and his usual self about it, but they’re starting to get a bit rough and approximately 0.6 seconds later this gigantic, hulking aasimar barbarian woman appears towering behind Molly and just “Do you have a problem with my friend?” Shockingly the answer is no.

-Molly always buys her a drink after this. She always insists he doesn’t need to, and he insists harder, and then they just end up getting drunk together. (Or, well, Molly gets drunk while Yasha sits at the same table as him, drinks twice as much, and suffers apparently none of the effects. Molly whines about this every morning after when Yasha is just...Yasha and he’s banging on death’s door begging it to take him now, please gods, release him from this torment. Yasha rolls her eyes at his dramatics and makes him tea.)

-Molly gives Yasha a tarot reading every morning as a kind of ritual thing, (”free of charge, naturally.”)

-Yasha likes being around Molly because he’s one of the few people she’s met who is completely, utterly, 100% without a shadow of a doubt completely comfortable with the fact that she’s a woman who is a)- stronger than him and b)- definitely strong enough to crush his head between her thighs with ease if she so chose. (Every time anyone mentions Yasha being strong/a good fighter, Molly is right on in there and just ‘yes, yes, she absolutely is’ and I love it)

-Molly will still occasionally go nonverbal every now and then when his batteries just flatline. During these times, Yasha will just hover protectively around him like a really well-muscled shadow and glare at anyone who even thinks of approaching him.

-On the nights Yasha can’t sleep Molly will sit up with her all damn night and keep her company. He’ll drink with her, talk to her (Molly can prattle for days on end when the mood takes him), play cards with her, do readings for her, juggle, literally anything to keep her occupied. At least once this has led to her quietly falling asleep against his shoulder at which point he gently lies her down and covers her over with a blanket, but he stays close.

-Once you’re on Molly’s ‘approved friends list’ he will straight up kill and die for you without thought. Like you name a time and a place and he’s there. Yasha is the only person on said list at the moment but he’s beyond ride and die for her. Yasha is for him, too, she’s just...Quieter about it.

-Yasha frowns a little bit when people (Beau) accuse Molly of being a heartless asshole because....He’s an asshole but he’s also got a good heart and she dislikes hearing that criticised.

-They both love music, and are both fairly musically inclined (Molly can play something, I don’t know what but he just can) and Yasha has a beautiful voice that Molly has heard one (1) time in his life when he actually succeeded in getting her a little bit tipsy. (He will never speak of it. She will kill him. He knows this.)

-I feel like Molly asks Yasha to teach him Celestial and she just kind of shrugs and agrees without really thinking about it because like why not? And it takes six months for Molly to admit the entire reason he agreed to this was because he thought it’d be really funny for a tiefling to be able to speak Celestial. Get it Yasha??? I’m a tiefling but I’m speaking Celestial. He tries to teach her Infernal for the same reason but she just kind of rolls her eyes and no, Molly.

-Yasha has broken up a LOT of bar fights in her time and a solid 93% of them were entirely Molly’s fault. (She sighs and curses him to shit but she always goes to rescue his useless purple ass. Always.)

-Speaking of, she’s the one who dabs at his split lip and puts in stitches in the cut over his bleeding eye after said bar fights while he whines and squirms like a kitten in a cat carrier and she tells him not to be such a baby.

-One time one of these bar fights was actually started by Yasha because this dude had been trash-talking Molly all damned night and would not stop and Molly just kept shushing her and buying her more drinks and insisting it was fine, he’d heard much worse (but his tail was twitching just a little bit, and there was a muscle going in his jaw) And she restrained herself for like a solid half an hour but then the guy just took it a step too far and she just straight up fucking decked him. Like one punch to the face and the guy went down and out cold and Yasha settled back down to enjoy her drink in peace.

-Molly swooned at the sight of her for like a solid two weeks afterwards and called her his ‘knight in shining armour, out to defend his honour!’ She told him she’d knock him out if he didn’t stop (but also smiled just a little bit when he was looking.)

-Definitely have little whisper moments like they did in last nights episode where they talk together and because they know each other so well it dissolves into a series of ‘yes’ and ‘mhm’ and ‘no’ and ‘I get you’s that none of the others can make sense of.

-Depending on how long Molly was nonverbal for, I can totally see him and Yasha having a crude kind of homemade sign language they used to communicate to each other with. They’ll still occasionally use it in battle together if things get really loud, or across a bar, or if they want to say something privately to each other, or just to fuck with the group because it’s Amusing sometimes.

-Speaking of them in battle like if these two tag-team you in a fight you’re dead. Like be you fiend, fey, or fucking deity, I don’t care. You’re dead. Scarily in-sync. Epic, physics defying combos. They’re just like a tornado of back-to-back death it’s great. (Not pictured, the rest of the squad just being like O_o in the background of the first fight this actually takes place in)

-Molly encouraged the others to bring Yasha into the carnival and take her with them because he recognised her as being a little lost and adrift and in need of a home and some good people around her, like he was, and she’ll be forever grateful to him for that, even though he very genuinely insists it was nothing.

-Yasha knows about Molly’s amnesia, or at the very least bits of it, even if she doesn’t know the full extent of it. She’s always supportive and gently nudges people away if they get a little bit too prying.

-Molly is 100% cool with Yasha vanishing into the wilderness whenever she feels like it. He just kind of shrugs and ‘eh, she’s like a cat, she comes and goes as she pleases.’ But he’s always happier when she’s around, and is relieved to see her, because the girl can take care of herself and he knows that, but also he’s a mother hen and his job is to worry, dammit.

-Yasha can actually be surprisingly soft and gentle when needed, and has been this way with Molly on a few necessary occasions.

-Molly found the four-leafed clover that’s pressed in Yasha’s book and gave it to her when they were travelling with the carnival.

-They genuinely, deeply trust and respect one another. And like...neither of them really trusts or respects, well, anyone, but they do each other.

-FRIENDED BONDED FOR LIFE, Y’ALL.

I’ll maybe add more to this at a later date, or maybe I’ll make a part two bc this is Long but I had feelings so here you go, you’re all welcome.

#critical role #yasha #mollymauk #taliesin jaffe #ashley johnson #i'm so glad they're sitting next to each other the potential for CUTE MOMENTS is peaked and it's great #I NEED MORE #GIVE ME MORE MOMENTS #GIVE ME ALL THE MOMENTS #that i can gif in hopefully non-glitchy quality dear god this week's was a disaster A DISASTER I TELL YOU #anyway #do with this what u will #molly headcanons #yasha headcanons #cr2 headcanons #my headcanons

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lilsapphicmoon · 6 years

Text

Soft Mornings

A/N: yayayayay I finished another thing bc I had an idea and it was cute and I just had to write it. This is unedited. I hope you enjoy!!!

Word Count: 1211

Pairing: Sam Holland x Reader

Masterlist

Soft music, soft lights, soft rain, soft blankets.Soft music playing through a radio on a table next to the bed, Soft lights strung up around the room, never turned off the night before. Soft rain coming down on the roof, giving more background noise to the room. Soft blankets covering the bed they shared. Soft was how the morning could be described.

Soft hands running through soft hair of the boy sleeping next to her, working through a few of the curly tangles, tracing over the freckles that covered his face

They had stayed up most of the night before talking about nothing and everything, just being in each other’s presence. There’s no way to know exactly when they fell asleep, drifting in and out of sleep, talking and mumbling while sleeping. Sam knew that he had fallen asleep after her though. He watched how peaceful she looked while she slept for a while before he himself fell into the arms of sleep. But it’s (Y/N) who woke before him. She watched him a while like he did her the night before, watching how when she moved he would stir just a little.

He was laying on his stomach, arms curled under the pillow under his head, his face pushed into the pillow, turned toward her , mouth slightly open, snoring lightly. It was times like these that she loved the most. When it seemed like time stopped and it was just them. Nothing else mattered.

Her hand returns to his hair again, twisting the stands between her fingers before she catches his eyes fluttering open.

They share a smile before he moves himself so that she can lay closer to him. Her back pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped around her, and his face hiding in the crook of her neck. He mumbles something but it’s muffled by his hiding and her hair.

“What was that, love? I couldn’t hear you.”

He raises his head out of her hair and neck, “I said I want to stay like this forever. WIth you, and the music, and the rain, and the dark room with the soft lights.” His voice was deep and raspy and still full of sleep.

(Y/N) rolls over in his arms, facing him and wrapping an arm around him.

“Well it is a Saturday, and I don’t think anyone has made any plans for today… and we can just tell them that we aren’t doing anything today… we can stay here all day if that’s what you want.”

He smiled and nodded as he pulled her closer to him again.

“Hold on… Here now come here.” (Y/N) says after she lays down on her back.

He comes back over to her laying his head down on her chest and his arms wrapped around her with her hands running through his hair again and down his back. Sam falls back asleep after a while and she follows not long after.

It was a few hours later when Sam wakes up, still laying the way they fell asleep. He smiles at (Y/N) before hearing his stomach growl. As if on a cue, hers did the same.

Sam gets up of the bed and slips down the stairs to find an empty house. Giving him the perfect time to make some breakfast for (Y/N) and himself. He makes a small batch of muffins, some eggs and sausage. Before he can pick up the plates to take them upstairs to his sleeping beauty, he feels arms wrap around his torso.

“Hey, I was about to bring you breakfast. You hungry?”

(Y/N)’s stomach growls at the smell of food and the offer of it and she lets go of him and nods.

“Yes, please. I’m starving.”

“Wanna eat down here to take it back up to the room?”

She just turns and heads back towards the stairs, “Come on Sam, I wanna go lay back down.”

He follows her back up the stairs and back into the room, closing the door behind him.

They eat in what silence the room gives, with the background noise of the music and rain. Sam takes the plates when they’re done and sets them on the table on his side of the bed.

They curl back up like they were before, but reversed this time. Sam on his back running his hands through (Y/N)’s hair and down her back.

“How did you sleep last night, love? Once we finally fell asleep anyway,” He says with a chuckle.

“Good. And great the second time, until I woke up and you weren’t here. I was hoping you were making some breakfast when I got up. And thank you for that by the way, it was really good.”

Sam smiles and kisses the top of her head, “You’re welcome. I’ll make you breakfast anyday.”

They lay together without talking for a while, just listening to the music.

“Sam, we should dance. We haven’t done that in a while,” Already climbing out of the bed, grabbing Sam’s hand to drag him up too,” Come on. Dance with me.”

He laughs and they dance, to any song that plays.

“Hold on there’s a song I want to listen to,” Sam stops dancing to changes the music to the song he’s been waiting to play.

“I’ve been waiting on it but I guess I’ll just have to play it. Alright there we go.”

(Y/N) smiles at the freckle-faced boy as the song starts to play.

“How did I know you’d play this?”

“Because I always tell you this is my song for you.”

The pair sways to Perfect by Ed Sheeran like they have so many times before.

“Well I found a girl beautiful and sweet , I never knew you were the someone waiting for me, 'Cause we were just kids when we fell in love…” Sam sings to the girl in front of him.

She lays her head on his shoulder as they continue to sway to the music, humming the song to each other and themselves, arms wrapped around each other again.

Near the end of the song (Y/N) lifts her head to lock her eyes with Sam as she sings the last few lines back to him.

“I have faith in what I see, Now I know I have met an angel in person, And he looks perfect, I don't deserve this, You look perfect tonight.”

They both lean in closer to each other, but are interrupted by Harry knocking on the door. Sam rolls his eyes.

“Bro! We’ve got food if you’re hungry. Is (Y/N) still here? Can I come in?”

“Come on in Harry.”

Harry enters the room and sees (Y/N) and Sam standing close to each other, one of his arms still wrapped around her waist.

“I was interrupting something wasn’t I? Whoops. Well there’s food of ya’ want it. Go back to whatever cute thing you two were doing.”

Harry leaves the room, not closing the door behind him.

“Let’s go get some food. I’m hungry again. We can continue our cute moment when we get back.”

They share a laugh and he takes her hand as they walk down to the kitchen to greet the rest of the family.

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pedroscurls · 7 years

Text

Title: Love At First Sight? (Part 9.)

Character(s): Denny and Jess (fictional/original character). Summary: Denny has a sudden sense of realization from an acquaintance. Word Count: 2,769 Author’s Note: I added two gifs because why not??? Are you crying yet bc I certainly am :(. Also, if you want to add more tears, listen to All I Want by Kodaline then listen to I Won’t Let You Go by James Morrison while reading this. It’ll definitely hit you right in the feels. Also, I used some familiar quotes from Grey’s Anatomy so that solely belongs to Shonda Rhimes. Tag list: @memphisgirl1977 , @clinicalkayla , @lostxwanderess , @negan--is--god , @trashforwinchesters , @heartfulloffandoms

Gif belongs to @heartfulloffandoms and @mypapawinchester

“So, I told my mom about you.” I tell him, looking at the ships on the board game. We have been avoiding the subject of our last argument, but I knew Denny was still upset. He didn’t show it often, but I could tell when his demeanor changed when a nurse came in to check his vitals.

Denny looks over at me, smiling softly. “Oh, yeah? What’d she say?”

“She wants to meet you. I don’t usually tell her about my boyfriends because she tends to bring up the subject of marriage all the time. She married young. Had me young. I guess she assumed I would follow in her footsteps.”

One of the things I enjoyed about my relationship with Denny was that we were able to talk to one another without having to worry about what the other may think. Bringing up marriage was a risk I was willing to take. Besides, it didn’t seem like he was going to run away at the mention of long-term commitment.

“What exactly is young?” Denny asks.

“She had me when she was nineteen then married my dad a year later.”

Denny arches a brow, smiling. “So, you’ve got a young mom?”

I playfully smack his upper arm, shaking my head. “Don’t get any ideas. You’re mine and she’s still happily married.”

Denny takes my hand, kissing my knuckles gently. I stare into his eyes, instantly noticing the twinkle it always seemed to hold in his brown orbs.

“I’m joking. Besides, I like them young,” he winks.

I laugh quietly, dropping my eyes to my ships on the board.

“We’re not that far apart in age, you know.”

“But you’re younger than me regardless, so your argument is moot point.” Denny grins pride fully; he always loved being right.

“Oh, shush. B7,” I say, looking up at him to see if I were to finally hit one of his ships.

“Miss. Again. Come on. Get outta your head and pay attention. What the hell are you thinking about, woman?”

I pout, looking into his eyes. “You know what, maybe you’re just better than me at board games.”

Denny laughs, nodding slightly. “That’s probably true. You’re not very good.”

Feigning a shocked expression, I widen my eyes.

“Oh, I’m definitely going to kick your ass now.”

“You’ve been saying that. I’m still waiting for it to happen,” Denny teases.

---

“I’ve got to stop by the bar to talk to Nate. I’ll be back in an hour or so, okay?” I tell Denny, looking into his eyes as I sit at the edge of his hospital bed.

He nods, staring into my eyes. It had been a couple of days since our argument and things were falling back into place. I was still aware that he was losing hope, but he said he was going to hold on a bit longer.

“All right. If you bring a deck of cards, we can play another game that I’ll win at,” he teases.

“You know, the things they say that the man should always let the woman win doesn’t apply to you, does it?”

Denny chuckles, shaking his head. “Not at all.”

“Mm, and that is why I like you.” Leaning down, I gently peck his lips. I let my fingertips run through his shaggy hair, slowly stroking it away from his face. “I’ll be back.”

“I’ll be right here,” Denny smiles.

“No stairs, okay?” I pull on my coat, retrieving my bag from the chair nearby.

Denny playfully salutes me. “Yes, doctor.

I leave his room hesitantly, glancing at him one last time before I walk to my car. Leaving him since our argument had become a tough task on its own. Leaving him alone meant he had enough time to think to himself, enough time to have his mind set on leaving, enough time for him to realize that I wasn’t worth making him stay at the hospital.

During the entire drive to the bar, I couldn’t help but let my mind drift to Denny. I knew we were running out of time and despite the LVAD giving us an ounce of hope, it wasn’t enough. Denny would continue losing hope until good news would come his way.

I walk into the bar and smile at Nate, sitting down with him. We talked about my job, about Denny. It was the first time I admitted that I loved him out loud. I put it out in the world rather than keep it bottled in.

“He’s going to hurt you, Jess.” Nate says.

I shake my head, “Then I’m willing to take that risk. I’ve all he’s got right now. He’s it, Nate. I love him.”

“You barely know him. You’ve been with him for three months at the latest. How can you love this man?”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. In the back of my mind, I knew that he was simply just looking out for me. I knew many of my friends and family were worried about me investing my entire time to a man who didn’t have a guaranteed future.

“He has this natural twinkle in his eyes whenever he would look at me. He holds me when I’m crying, comforting me because I’m scared that at the end, he won’t be here. Denny’s smile brightens my entire world. He laughs when he gets a score of sixty-nine in Scrabble. He loves animals to the point that we had to rush him back to his hospital room because he ran so quickly to a group of therapy dogs that were visiting the hospital.

“He makes me laugh, Nate. We fall asleep talking about our goals in life, what we want to do and what we have already done. I may have spent those three months taking care of him, but I would do it over again in a damn heartbeat. He has my heart now, Nate. If you can’t understand that or what I’m doing, then don’t hold my job for me.”

I hadn’t realized that I was tearing up. I wasn’t expecting this conversation at all. From the looks of it, Nate wasn’t expecting me to get so emotional over Denny.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jess. You and Kate have a perfect dynamic. I’m just looking out for you. If he doesn’t make it, you’re going to be devastated.”

I stand up, grabbing my bag and my coat. It was time for me to leave.

“If that happens, I will deal it with it if it comes. Thanks, Nate. I’m going to go now.”

Before he could respond, Kate appears from the back of the bar and sighs. “Let me come with you! I want to see Denny, too.”

I glance over at her and nod, holding the door open for her. The ride back to the hospital was quiet. My mind was racing at the million thoughts in my head. I couldn’t even be angry at Nate for being protective of me. I was surprised that Kate hasn’t talked to me about it yet.

Once at the hospital, I immediately walk to Denny’s room. I almost forget that Kate was with me before I hear her voice, calling out for me to slow down.

“Sorry,” I tell her.

“Don’t worry about it. I get it,” she grins, wrapping an arm around my shoulders.

I lean against her for support before my eyes instantly find Denny’s.

“I brought you a visitor,” I tell him, removing my coat and setting my bag down. I instantly walk to him, kissing his forehead before sitting at the edge of his bed. “Are you okay?”

Denny glances over at Kate and smiles before he turns his attention to me. “I’m fine, Jess. I’m glad you’re back, though.”

“Me too. I’m going to talk to Dr. Stevens to see about your food for today. Kate, try not to hit on my man, okay?” I tease, climbing off his bed to give her a hug.

“No promises. I forgot how handsome he was,” she teases.

I laugh quietly, leaving the room to find Dr. Stevens.

---

Denny’s POV

I see Kate look over her shoulder, watching Jess leave. I couldn’t help but feel slightly confused. Surely, she wouldn’t try anything on me. Right?

Though, when I meet her eyes, I realize why Kate was making sure Jess was gone. It seemed like she was going to have a serious talk with me.

“How are you?” She asks.

“I’m doing okay. They’ve got me on an LVAD to buy me more time. Just waiting for good news, you know?” I reply.

Kate slowly paces back and forth, her arms crossed over her chest. She looked nervous.

“Kate, what are you doing?”

“I think Jess is going to get hurt, Denny. She’s been investing too much of her time on you when it isn’t a guarantee that you’ll get a heart. I know it sounds bad, fuck, but I want to be realistic here. That night you two had an argument because you wanted to go home… She called me when you were asleep. I have never heard her cry that much in my life, Denny. Jess is my best friend and I love her,” Kate says.

My heart breaks. She was telling me to break up with Jess. The worse part of it was that I had already been considering it. I knew it was going to break her heart, but if I died, it would hurt her even more.

“Kate…”

“No, listen, Denny. I just don’t want to see my best friend hurt because of you. When Jess gets back, tell her Nate called me to go back to the bar. I’ll talk to you later.”

When she leaves my room, I stare down at the crossword puzzle that I had been working on before she got here. My mind drifts to Jess and the past three months. If it wasn’t for her optimism, I was sure that I would have been dead by now.

But I’m just tired. I told Jess I would hold on a bit longer, but what if holding on was simply prolonging the inevitable?

As I think back to the first time I met Jess and the past three months with her, I realized one thing.

I was in love with her.

She would scrunch up her nose when she laughed. She would get lost in her thoughts when she was staring at me. She would bite her lower lip in deep thought when she was trying to figure out the next word or where my battleship was placed. She would rest her cheek against my chest, listening to my heartbeat despite how irregular it sounded. She gave me hope when I lost it.

She was keeping me alive.

But I knew. The longer we hold on, the more hurt she would get when I died. And I love her too much to let her go through that pain.

Kate was right.

I had to let Jess go.

---

“Okay! I have a salad and some fruit for a Dennison Duquette!” I smile, looking around the room only to find Kate gone. “Hey, where did Kate go?”

Denny looks at me, his smile not reaching his eyes like it usually would.

“She said she had to go. Nate called her in.”

“Go figure. Fridays were always busy. Now, let’s get you fed.” I set the tray onto the table, sitting at the edge of his bed and handing him a fork.

He avoids my eyes and I couldn’t understand why. I just hoped it wouldn’t result in him telling me that he wanted to go home because I didn’t know if I could handle that conversation again.

We eat in silence. I glance at him every so often, but he doesn’t meet my gaze. Usually, we would get lost in each other’s eyes, but tonight was different.

Once we finish our food, I grab our trays and set it aside for the nurse to pick up. Denny instantly grabs the unfinished crossword puzzle before I take it from his grasp.

Again, he doesn’t look at me.

“Did Kate do something? Did she hit on you?” I tease, laughing quietly to myself in hopes that Denny would join me. When he doesn’t, I cease my attempts at trying to lighten the mood.

“Denny, what did she do?”

When his eyes finally meet mine, I take notice at how glassy it was and the tears that were now pooling at his eyes.

“Do you believe in heaven, Jess?” He asks.

I furrow my brow. “Why are you talking like this?”

“Just – Just answer the question. Please.”

“Yes, Denny. I believe in heaven.”

He simply nods. “Do you believe in karma?”

“Yeah. Denny, what’s going on?”

“I think you’re mine. That night when I saw you… I knew I shouldn’t have talked to you. I should have minded my own business, but I couldn’t.”

“Well, thank you for talking to me. We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you,” I smile. When he doesn’t return it, I simply frown.

What the hell was going on?

“You’ve done more than I could have ever asked of you, Jess. I will forever be grateful for all that you’ve done for me, but… I can’t do this. Not to you.” His tears were more noticeable now and suddenly, everything made sense.

Kate must have talked to him about me.

“W – What?”

“You should go home. Go back to school. Get your job back. I’ll be fine, Jess. I’ll be all right.”

My voice quivers and tears begin to leak at the corner of my eyes. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“What if you die? What if you die and I’m not here with you? What happens then, Denny?!”

“Then I die. I’ll be all right, Jess. You don’t have to worry.”

“I did not ask for you to help me with my groceries, Denny! I did not ask to see you in this hospital three months ago! I have spent all my time giving you hope, making sure that you were okay and you want me to leave just like that? You want me to walk away like I never cared?”

“Jess –”

“What about me, Denny?! What about me when you go to the light?! What about me?!”

Tears were now rolling down my cheeks, but the more I look at Denny, the more my heart breaks.

“I’m going to be all right,” he repeats.

“No, I get it! I get it, okay? You’ll be okay, but what about me?! If you tell me to leave and you die, I will never be able to forgive you!”

“For dying?” His voice is shaky and when I meet his eyes, I realize that this was hurting him just as much as it was hurting me.

“No! For making me love you!”

Denny stares at me as if the words that just escaped my lips was something he wasn’t expecting. He stares at me and I know in that moment, he loved me too.

“Jess –”

“I am not going to let you go, Denny! Do you understand me?! Because I can’t – I can’t leave and let you die so please… Please don’t tell me to go!” My body shakes with the intensity of all my built-up emotions from today’s events and today’s conversation with Nate.

Denny gently reaches for my forearm and I allow him to pull me close. I continue to cry, wiping the tears away but it was no point. They were just going to fall.

“I’m in love with you, Denny… Please don’t tell me to go… Please…”

“Okay, okay…” His arms wrap around me and instantly, I let my face bury against my neck. My cries continue as he tries to calm me down by allowing a hand to rub along my back.

“I love you too, Jess…” He whispers into my ear.

I shut my eyes, holding onto him tightly. At his confession, I let a fresh set of tears fall from eyes. I realize that there was no turning back from this. All I could hope for was Denny to get a new heart.

When he pulls back to look at me, he places two fingers onto his lips.

“Kiss me.” Denny says.

Slowly, I lean in to let my lips press against his and allow the brief kiss to melt away both of our concerns and worries.

Right now, it was Denny and I.

No one else mattered as long as we were together.

#story: love at first sight?#jeffrey dean morgan #jdm #jdm fanfiction #denny duquette #grey's anatomy #greys anatomy #denny x oc #fanfiction #denny duquette fanfiction #greys anatomy fanfiction

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