#like i said last night what would *really* be gut wrenching would be if they all got to say goodbye before he passed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gaysindistress · 3 months

Text

Связи (n.) connections - five

disclaimer: credits to original creator/poster of image/gif. found on google/Pinterest

Pairings: mob!bucky x reader Summary: “Did you think you could hide from us? That’s adorable, little one. There’s no where on this planet where you could hide from the Shostakov Bratva and even if you did manage to evade us, the Barnes Bratva would find you. Your связи, your connections, will always come back to haunt you, Y/N.” Word count: 2.5 k Warnings: cursing gaysindistress masterlist | four | series masterlist

He fucking called me by her nickname; Lisichka.

As if forcing me to marry him, comforting me the way he used to for her, and then trying to lie to me by saying they were never together wasn’t enough. I know I told myself that I could let him love a ghost but this is too much. I can’t be her replacement.

His eyes flash for a moment before he follows me and has a door slammed in his face. It immediately opens and the sight of him standing in my doorway pisses me off to no end.

“Get out,” I grit out and my fingers itch for the department issued gun that’s locked in my nightstand drawer.

Ever the quiet and observing man, he narrows his eyes at me and then scans the room before shouldering even further in. We both know I wouldn’t make it to my nightstand before he could draw his own weapon or tackle me. So I have to let him in even if it makes my stomach rotten at the idea of having him in the same room as me after calling me her pet name.

“Get the fuck out.”

“Ask nicely.”

“We’re past pleasantries, your royal high-ass.”

“That’s an interesting nickname,” he chuckles. The sound is half mocking and half sinister. How my sister ever put up with him and how I ever had a crush on him is beyond me.

“I have plenty more where that came from,” I snapped at him and then pointed to the door, “now get out.”

He makes a show of looking over his shoulder at the door before taking another step closer to me, “and I said to ask nicely.”

“Maybe,” I start and step closer to him as well, “ if you weren’t the world’s biggest fucking asshole, I would but you are and I’m on edge so get the fuck out now.”

Amusement flickers on his face before it fades back into his usual stone cold expression. “Tell me why you stormed off and then I will.”

A sarcastic laugh explodes from me before I can stop it. “Like it really fucking matters to you,” I scoff and turn away to put as much space between us as possible. His cologne, his presence, his fucking stare is too overwhelming. “You can say you weren’t together but we all know that’s a lie. I know that’s a lie. You haven’t had any trouble telling me the truth even when it fucking hurts so what’s different now? Why can’t you just admit that there was something between the two of you and just… just stop pretending that I’m her.”

That last word is weaker and much quieter than I meant but he heard me. The whole penthouse could’ve heard me with how eerily silent and echoing it is.

It's penetrative, the silence. All consuming and forceful as it finds a way into every square inch of the room and leaves nothing left untouched by its cold hands. Before I was adopted, I would pretend the silence and I were friends as I stared into the dark void of night as I laid in bed. The other girls were afraid of me because I wasn’t scared of the dark like them but it was due to their fear that I wasn’t scared. When you’re left alone with nothing but gut wrenching silence and aching isolation, it should be no surprise that you’d make friends with it.

Now it feels like my old friends have turned their backs on me and taken the side of Bucky. What rotten creatures they all are.

“You want the truth about nat and I? We were never together because of you. She knew that you had some stupid teenage girl crush on me and she knew that it would break you if we got together. She refused to let some guy, as she put it, get between the two of you. Believe me, I’m not pretending that you’re her.”

I suck in a shuddering breath. It feels like a punch to the face but it shouldn’t. I don’t care about him. I don’t care about this marriage. I shouldn’t care that his harsh tone makes me feel like a child again or that it was me that kept them apart.

I shouldn’t care.

“Now tell me why you stormed off.”

“Isn’t it obvious?” I mutter under my breath. I drop onto my bed and fiddle with the unraveling end of a blanket, dragging it into my lap as I try to tuck it back into place. The blues, reds, and creams make me think Steve made this one but the shooty handiwork tells me that it was me with his guidance.

Bucky’s footsteps are silent as he enters my view and crouches in front of me. Thank god he doesn’t touch me but his body still cages me in so if I tried to get up, I’d run right into his chest.

“Lisichka.”

I try to suppress my flinch but he sees it. The deep sigh he lets out tells me that he was testing me and got the answer he wasn’t hoping for.

“You can’t treat me like her and then say that you’re not doing just that.” I can’t bring myself to look at him so I stare at the blanket in my lap. “You’ve completely destroyed my life in a matter of weeks. The least you could do is treat me with some respect and leave me alone.”

“Is that what you want? For me to give you space?”

I break my fixation and find him already staring intently at me.

“No. I want to put a bullet in you and watch you bleed out. Then I want to walk out that door,” I tell him with a shaking voice as I point to the door behind him, “and never look back because I’d have control over my life again. I want to disappear into the world and have peace of mind knowing that you paid for all of the shit that you’ve done to the world, to my sister, to me.”

My cruel words don’t seem to affect him. “I’ll make you another deal; after all of this is said and done, I’ll let you do that. Tomorrow I’ll have Sam set up a fund for you so that you won’t have to worry about money.”

I narrow my eyes at him as they dart between him, searching for any hint of his silver tongued ways.

“I’m going to kill you, James Buchanan Barnes. Whether it be for business or for pleasure, I will kill you.”

He holds my stare as he accepts my promise, “and I’ll be waiting with open arms.”

Wanda is by far the most intimidating woman I’ve met besides my mother and sisters. She commands a room to be silent by simply clearing her throat and makes even the most egotistical of men shrink under her sharp gaze. She’s watching me with unwavering eyes as she hums along with someone on the phone. When she sets the phone back on the receiver, she rolls her eyes and rubs her eyebrow.

“Why is it that everyone is so damn incompetent? Hm? Why can’t people just do their jobs without having to be babysat? I’m over it, y/n, I’m over it.” She sighs and leans back into her chair. “But you, you’ve always done what I asked and I wouldn’t hear from you until you gave me the report.”

“Why am I here?” I know better than to cut off her monologues but I don’t have the patience anymore.

“I can’t move Carol off the case but I don’t want her anywhere near you. She’s a loose fucking cannon and I don’t want to deal with her overprotective attitude right now. I’m sending you undercover with minimal contact.”

Shifting in my uncomfortable chair, I furrow my brows at her, “what do you mean undercover?”

“Well obviously you can’t go in under an assumed identity but I’m orchestrating your public termination so you can do a deep dive and get the evidence I need to arrest Alexei.”

“My public termination?” I blink at her with mild surprise. “You're going to ruin my reputation and any chance I have to come back to a normal life after this if you do that.”

Wanda’s eyes harden, “y/n you’re so beautiful but so naive. This operation has been in the works since the moment you stepped foot in America. Every move that you’ve made has been because I made it happen. Every thought you’ve had has been because I’ve planted it there. Everything that’s happened from then to now has been my doing. Ive spent years plucking strings and pulling favors and I will not let you of all people fuck this up for me now. You’re going to be terminated and it will be all over the papers so that no one even bats an eye. You will find me the fucking paper trail that leads to Alexei’s shipments and connects him to Dreykov’s murder and you will do it with a fucking smile.”

I now have four people on my shit list; my father, my husband, my ex girlfriend, and this red headed fed.

I can’t even be upset by yet another shitty revelation about how my life has been a lie. Just as she put it, I’m over it, Wanda I’m over it.

A sigh isn’t enough to describe the way I push out all of the air from my lungs. I remind myself of a disappointed dad but then again my father is the disappointment in our relationship.

“Anything else you want from me? My right lung? My kidney? My heart?”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Wanda scoffs lightly and waves me off. “If I wanted those, I would’ve taken them already.”

“Well,” I click my tongue and push out of my chair, “if that’s all, then I’m going to use my savings to buy all the strippers and blow money can buy.”

Wanda gives me a bored and almost annoyed look. “Dont fuck this up and definitely dont do that. I won’t bail you out of jail or let anyone else for that matter.”

“At this point being locked up would be preferable to the shitshow you’ve made out of my life. At least there I could get some fucking peace and quiet.”

With that I walk out of her office and nearly run into the third person on my shit list; Carol.

“Oh for the love of god,” I mumble under my breath and slide past her. She goes to grab my arm and before I can even realize what I’m doing, I have my gun drawn on her and the entire precinct is on high alert.

“Y/N stand down.” Tony’s voice is uncharacteristically soft as he approaches from behind. His hands are out in front of me to show he’s not a threat and I immediately drop my stance to hand him the gun. My eyes are still on Carol as I let Tony disarm and cuff me. He goes to pull me away after the tight metal is around my wrists but I hold my position.

I mumbled “пошла на хуй” before spitting at her feet. Tony gives my bound arms a sharp tug. The disgusted look on Carol’s face satisfies the Shostakov in me and I half stumble over myself to follow after the police captain.

I catch Wanda’s eye on the way to Tony’s office. She’s pleased but is trying to hide it.

Good. I just made her job that much easier.

“You got yourself fired?”

Rubbing at my sore wrists, I roll my eyes at Sam’s question. “No, I was actually promoted. I’m now the chief of police for all of the NYPD.”

“I could do without the sarcasm, fuck stick,” he grumbles back as he makes a hard left turn, sending me flying around in the backseat.

“And I could do with the rude names and being thrown around like I’m a pinball.”

“Don’t be an ass to me then.”

“It goes both ways.”

“Enough both of you,” Bucky finally groans from the passenger seat. He twists in his seat enough to point at me, “and you need to cap your anger issues. The last few outbursts may have worked in your favor but it isn't going to go your way every time. Like it or not, you’re expected to be the face of my Bravta as my advisor as well as my wife.”

“пошла на хуй.”

Bucky’s brows furrow at the insult, “пошла на хуй? Seriously Y/N?”

“Oh was I not clear enough the first time? I’ll say it in English then; go fuck yourself.”

Sam stifles a chuckle and is rewarded with a hard glare from Bucky.

“Think about it; after being MIA for years, the lost Shostakov daughter turns up in the NYPD with an incredibly successful career and is known for working with the feds but now she wants back in? Doesn't that all seem suspicious to you? Everyone is going to be watching you and looking for a reason to kill you before Antonia does.”

“I don’t need your advice, Bucky. I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you though? Does that fed Wanda or your captain Anthony know what they’re getting themselves into?”

“There’s a difference,” I spit out while years of unchecked teenage rage that was never released comes to the surface, “Alexei is my father. I know how his mind works. I know his weaknesses and his strengths. I know who he’s going to trust and who he won’t. I know how he likes his morning coffee. I even know when he’s going to shit for god's sake.”

Bucky isn’t impressed by me at all. But then again this is the king of being cold and indifferent we’re talking about here. He’s also single handedly the most attractive yet infuriating man I’ve ever met. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to kiss someone as badly as I do him while also wanting to break his nose. It’s truly my worst nightmare.

“Are you done?”

My face screws up in shock and pure rage. “What the fuck kind of question is that? ‘Are you done?’ You Козёл, I should cut your fucking…”

Sam can’t contain his laughter anymore and lets it all out. My husband joins in with his own laughter and my jaw drops from their audacity.

I’ve apparently lost the ability to intimidate people so I cross my arms over my chest and slump back into the seat.

“I’m glad you two can find the humor in all of this.”

Their laughter doesn’t stop but it lessens to mere chuckles and Sam even wipes a few tears away. Bucky turns to face me again and is greeted with a death stare to rival Nesta Acheron’s.

“You called me a goat. You can’t tell me that you wouldn’t have laughed if the roles were reversed.” He says in a breathy tone. I only hardened my glare. “I’m sorry, okay? It wasn’t right to laugh at that but y/n, you need to watch your back. I need you to watch your back.”

Quite frankly I don’t care what he wants or needs. I don’t care what anyone else thinks anymore. If I’m expected to play the part of Alexei’s daughter and Bucky’s wife then fine, I’ll do it but it's going to be on my terms.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #marvel imagine #bucky barnes fanfic #mob au #mob!bucky barnes imagine #Связи (n.) connections #Связи (n.) connections bucky x reader #mob bucky au #mob!au #mob!bucky

69 notes · View notes

jaxypaxyhaxy · 8 months

Text

So I’m gunna word vomit and “I hope somebody is listening” (lol) but I have an idea for a scene that I’m desperately wanting in season 3 that wasn’t even in the books and I can’t stop thinking about it so I need to put it out into the universe.

So I have this idea for a scene in season 3 of heartstopper between Tori and Nick. I imagine it being an early episode where nick and Charlie are having a usual movie night, and then Nick goes to make popcorn and finds Tori in the kitchen getting a glass of diet lemonade. I can imagine Nick getting a bit worried (visible on his face) and he’s nervously asks Tori about the time when Charlie was getting bullied. She gets a bit nervous and hesitant but tells him. I really think this would be an amazing way to incorporate some book elements like some of the things mentioned in solitaire and this winter about Charlies mental health, and an adorable, gut wrenching, heartstopping (get it) Scene. (Ex. Tori talks about the note with a cake on it, how she found him, and how she stayed in the hospital waiting room for 3 days for him)

Tiny details I can visibly imagine in the scene

- Tori wearing a hoodie and playing with her sleeve the same way Charlie did in Paris with Nick after the Louvre

- Nick cuts of Tori at some point by hugging her (she doesn’t necessarily hug back but she doesn’t reject it at all)

- as Nick is walking to the kitchen he pulls out his phone and looks at some of his notes on EDs like in the book when he’s initially researching them

- if it’s after she’s cut her hair nick says I’m the beginning of the conversation “I like your hair” (Tori could even say smth like “it looks the same like she said to Charlie in S1 (Nick would giggle and just say “we’ll it still looks good” or smth) but it depends on the seasons timeline)

- she mentions the cake note like she did to Lucas ( slightly sounding like she’s joking but crying visibly harder )

- the scene could end with the popcorn being done, Charlie hearing the mictowave beep loudly over and over and coming down to check on Nick, he’s like “what’s up” nick just says it’s nothing (tori slips out quickly to hide that she was crying)

- and just something else I feel like Tori would evolve from hesitant to slightly hysterical as she continues talking ( because she’s never said this out loud to anyone before ) but her volume stays low and doesn’t increase as she continues (voice mostly stable with small cracks and a tad shaky)

- music less scene like the last one in HS s2

@chronicintrovert Idek what this is but I think it would bring a bunch of book details in, as well as be the introduction to what will inevitably be a very very hard and sad season 🥲🥲 (that doesn’t mean I’m not sitting on the edge of my seat excited for it to come out lol)

Alr I’m done rambling thanks for reading if u got this far.

#heartstopper #solitaire #tori and michael #tori spring #alice oseman #heartstopper comic #this winter #charlie spring #nick x charlie #nick nelson #calling all heartstopper fans #heartstopper series #heartstopper season 2 #heartstopper s2 #nick and charlie #victoria spring #micheal holden

168 notes · View notes

bqstqnbruin · 6 months

Text

Ghost of You

Hello hello I'm here with a fic that might make you upset oops

This was inspired by some of @laurenairay's 1.5k follower celebration fics and Ghost of You by Five Seconds of Summer

Shoutout to @kat-hearts and @wyattjohnston for reading through this and editing/giving suggestions for this because they're amazing and then I'm tagging @matthewtkachuk and @raysofcrosby just to annoy them

Word Count: 6701

Warnings: Alcohol, Swearing, Mean

Flashbacks are in italics

_________________________________________

You told yourself it would never get serious. It was just supposed to be fun.

Yet, there you were, sitting on the floor of your bedroom feeling like you had your heart ripped out. Your friends told you not to date him, not to get close to him, that there was nothing good that could come from being with him. He wasn’t at the point of wanting to commit to anyone. You thought you wanted the same.

He was just supposed to be a hookup.

There was no reason why a fucking social media post should be bothering you the way it did.

Fuck it. You had time off work banked, you had a car with a tank at least half full of gas from what you remembered, and your mom had just complained that she had hotel points she was going to lose and practically begged you to take off her hands, and you had always wanted to go to Vail, your friends telling you how much fun they had the last time they went without you.

What better way to get over someone than by just running away from everyone else?

Your phone was lighting up every few minutes with texts in the group chat, the one that didn’t have him in it, calls from your friends, his teammates, all of them worried about where you were and why you weren’t answering. You were glad someone was worried about you, but you couldn’t pull yourself together long enough to answer their calls or look at their texts without breaking down into that horrible, gut-wrenching sob, the kind that drove you to the point of dry heaving.

Cale told you he liked you. He told you that he felt a way about you that he didn’t know how to put into words. He looked at you and said he could see himself with you for a while when he hadn’t thought that about anyone, at least not in a long time.

He didn’t have to tell you he was seeing other girls and that he needed space. He didn’t need to send the text telling you that he thought it would be better for both of you if you didn’t want to talk anymore because he didn’t want to lead you on. He didn’t have to let you believe that everything he had told you was true, letting you fall for him the way you thought he was falling for you.

You turned your phone on Do Not Disturb, your lack of ability to know where you’re going and which way you’re heading barring you from turning off your phone completely. All you could do was grab the bag you packed for the weekend, fill up your car with gas, and hit the road for the hour and a half road trip to the hotel in Vail.

You take one last look through your apartment, the normal “what if I left this plugged in/on and it caught on fire?” panic setting through you in the minutes before you want to leave when you notice the coffee cup sitting there on your kitchen table.

Cale spent his first night at your place not long after you started seeing each other. You weren’t even really sure if what you were doing was considered dating by the day’s standards, just knowing you were somewhat ‘together.’ You two were out late at a bar with his teammates and some of your friends the night before, Cale insisting on walking you back to your place to make sure you were home safe, not worried about practice the next morning for once in his life.

The two of you spent the night talking, your laptop perched at the edge of your bed, Cale with his arm pulling you close while your head rested on his chest, his heart beat making you tired with the steady rhythm. You didn’t even realize you had fallen asleep until his alarm was going off that following morning, the two of you entangled in each other and neither of you wanting to move from where you were.

“You have to get ready for practice,” you whispered, feeling his arms pull you closer when you didn’t think that was possible.

“I have time,” he murmured against your forehead, a light kiss placed there that made you melt in ways you didn’t know you could.

“I’m not going to be responsible for you being late,” you tell him, trying to pull away. You had to start getting ready for your day, too, his alarm only making you do it much earlier than you had planned. “Plus, I need coffee.”

Cale mumbled something again, you managing to get yourself free of him, turning around to see his arms still reaching out for you to come back. “No, stay here,” he whined.

“Cale.”

“Please?”

“I’m making coffee.”

You laugh to yourself as you hear him calling for you, the coffee pot coming to life and the smell of the drink filling your nose, when you feel Cale’s arms snake around your waist, planting soft kisses along your neck and working his way up to your jaw. You turned your head slightly towards him, his grip tightening as his lips find yours. You turn your body completely to face him, your back arching against the counter as he kisses you harder, a smile on his lips as they make their way back down your neck, your hands making their way to his hair as a small groan leaves his lips when you give it a slight tug.

“I don’t want to leave,” he tells you, another kiss planted on your lips.

“You have to, though,” you lament, the coffee behind you finally ready. You turn around with his arms still around you, reaching for the cabinet where you keep an unnecessary amount of mugs that are almost never used. “Which one do you want?”

You held in front of him the two most ridiculous mugs that you had, knowing that the laugh about to come out of him would easily be your new favorite sound. One mug was made in the shape of a bulldog’s head, something your dad claimed he got when he was visiting a friend at Georgetown, but there’s no way a university with that much intelligence would sell something like that, the other one something that had to be given at a retirement party or a memorial service or something, an old man named ‘Randall’ plastered on it in various states of adulthood with the dates 1960-2020 written on it.

“You know, Serina told me about these,” he starts, holding back more laughter and referring to your best friend. “But, she really didn’t do them justice.”

“Whichever one you pick is yours , the unofficial ‘Cale’ mug of my apartment.”

He laughed, kissing you again in a way that made you want him to keep doing it forever. “I guess I’ll take Randall?”

You meant to throw out the mug, donate back to the thrift store that you got it from a few years ago since Cale was the only one in your apartment who was allowed to use it. Every time he was over, it was out on the table. Every time he left, it was in your dishwasher to be cleaned for the next time he was coming. You didn’t even remember putting it on the table.

You swallow hard, putting the mug in the corner of your kitchen where a pile of his stuff that you didn’t want to look at already sat.

Your phone lights up, one of your friends using the ‘notify anyway,’ feature that made your blood boil. You didn’t want to talk to anyone. They all had your location, they could see where you were.

Driving was your least favorite thing to do, avoiding it at all costs, so the fact that you even thought you were going to take a road trip by yourself on the premise of ignoring everyone you could talk to, was baffling. Just you and your thoughts with only the road to distract you.

The little tv screen on the gas station started talking to you, one of those stupid commercials that probably didn’t pay their actors enough making more noise than any car on the street. The commercial couldn’t bother you as much as what you forgot was in the back seat of your car, the Stanley Cup playoffs sweatshirt Cale gave to you sitting there, slightly faded and probably incredibly dirty having rarely been washed, staring back at you like it was taunting you.

The night before the game, Cale was a wreck. He was in his hotel room in Boston, he called you panicking, pacing back and forth on the hotel carpet. “What happens if we lose?”

“Then you come back and win game seven at home,” you tried to reassure him.

“What if we lose because of me?”

“Has that happened before?”

“No specific examples that I can think of come to mind, but what if I blocked them out because of the trauma?”

You bit your lip, finding it weirdly endearing that he was this nervous about the game. You knew how much was riding on this, the Avs down 3-2 in the series, meaning this was win that game and force the even more nerve wracking game seven, or lose and hope for next year. “While that is totally valid,” you started, “In the time that I have known you, you have not been the reason the team lost a game.”

“What if-”

“Cale,” you cut him off, “I get that you’re nervous, but you know the best way to go to sleep before a game is to be calm.”

“Easier said than done,” he huffed.

“I know. What can I do to help?”

He stays silent for a minute, the pacing finally stopping. “Honestly?”

“Yes, honestly.”

“I wish you could be here for the game tomorrow.”

You felt your heart break, knowing that the one thing he apparently wanted was the one thing you couldn’t give him. “Cale,” you breathe out.

“There’s a flight from Denver to Boston tomorrow morning that would get you here before we’re done with practice.”

“You’re looking at flights for me?”

“If you want to. I’d pay,” he offered.

“Cale, I can’t let you do that,” you started. You weren’t together. You were just supposed to be hooking up, and the fact that he was about to pay how much money for you to get on a flight to see him halfway across the country was something you didn’t do for someone you were just hooking up with. You hadn’t even been to one of his games yet. Only some of his teammates knew you two even knew each other. “I can’t get the time off work with this short of notice unless I have a doctor’s note.” He had to know it was a lie, you feeling a pinch in your chest when the silence on the other end of the line went longer than you had wanted it to. “I’m sorry.”

He cleared his throat, finally, your heart breaking with the sound. You knew he was disappointed. You wanted to make him feel better, but this was too much right now. You still hadn’t even had the conversation about what you were to each other. “No, no, I forgot, sorry. It’s fine.”

“Cale-”

“Hey, I gotta get going,” he tells you, hanging up on you before you can say anything else.

You weren’t wrong, were you? It would have been amazing to fly out on short notice to see a game where your favorite team won the cup. To be there with a player you were dating? Even better. But you weren’t dating him. You liked him, sure. What’s not to like about this perfect guy, an incredibly sweet person who you feel lucky enough to know, your heart skipping a beat whenever his name shows up on your phone screen, when you hear your friends or coworkers mention his name in conversation, only a few of them knowing that you were seeing him in any capacity.

You had the sudden urge to call him back, tell him that you weren’t going to say fuck it to work and that you would be there waiting for him when he was done with practice. Your finger hovered over his name in your call log, the outgoing call could show up on your screen in a matter of seconds if you just pressed the button.

You couldn’t do it.

That would be something you did if you were his girlfriend and you wanted to go see him in one of the biggest games of his career. You would do it if what you had with him was serious, or you at least knew for sure how you felt about each other, you knew where this was going. You had no answers and now was not the time to find them out when the guy you needed the answers from was busy pacing back and forth in a hotel room and probably on his way to vomiting.

The next night, you were with your friends in a shitty bar watching them, the black and gold logo at center ice mocking you as the score was 4-0. The camera panned over Cale, the bar too loud to hear what the announcers were saying, but you knew it wasn’t good. They were saying the exact things Cale was worried about the night before, that he wasn’t playing his best and that it was his fault they weren’t winning the game. There was minimal chance of recovery for them at this point, and while it wasn’t impossible, Boston had done it before, the Avs hadn’t to your knowledge. The game looked like it was about to end, a shutout loss for the team in the game that could have kept their hopes alive.

The camera flashed back over to Cale, his mouth covered by his glove as he fought back tears. This was supposed to be their year. It was supposed to be them winning the cup.

You left the bar before the game was fully over, the image of Cale in tears enough to make you do the same. You shouldn’t be this broken up over a boy you weren’t seeing. There was no need to be this broken up over him.

You started walking home, the air cooling down as it got later in the night. You felt your phone vibrating, expecting it to be one of your friends asking you where you went.

Cale’s name flashed on your phone, your heart racing. You were afraid to answer it. What were you going to do if he was crying on the other end of the call, if you could hear the guys in the background also upset. You weren’t sure you could take it.

You reluctantly answer, letting out a weak hello in anticipation of him being upset.

“You should have been here,” he said, an angry tone in voice that you weren’t expecting.

“What?”

“You should have been here,” he repeated, his voice breaking ever so slightly. “I spent the entire game wishing you were here, that I could look up to the box and know you were there even if I couldn’t see you, and it fucked me up. We lost because of me. We lost because you weren’t there.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” you spit, “I told you I couldn’t come. How is it my fault I can’t just leave my job?”

“You should have been here,” he tells you a third time, his voice raised this time, “Up in the box with all the wives and girlfriends.”

“I guess I would have to be a wife or a girlfriend to be there, then, huh?” You hung up before he could say anything else, a sob escaping your body that you didn’t even know you had in you.

Cale spent the rest of the night trying to reach you, texting, calling, dming on social media, any form of communication you ever had between each other was being used by him while you ignored him.

How dare he blame you for the team losing the game. He wasn’t the only person on the team, and he wasn’t even on the ice for three of the goals. It wasn’t his fault they lost, and it definitely wasn’t yours, either.

You fell asleep angry, your phone never ceasing to be lit up by Cale’s constant attempts to reach you. He had family he could call, someone else he could contact. Anyone besides you, the person he was hooking up with in a way that wasn’t supposed to be serious.

You woke up the next morning, unsure if the pounding was from the brutal hangover made worse by your bad mood, or if someone was trying to break down your door. You get out of bed, sure to mention a few expletives while you make your way to your door to find Cale standing on the other side, eyes bloodshot and his face looking pale.

“I’m sorry.”

You stood there, staring at him, trying to process him being there in the first place. You clench your jaw, trying to stay with the same attitude you had the night before. “You should be.”

You invite him in, Cale finding his way to your couch. You sit on the opposite side, trying to position yourself as far away as possible. “That was unfair of me,” he started. You sit there, waiting for him to continue. “I shouldn’t expect stuff like that from you when we aren’t, you know,” his voice trailed off.

He should just say it to you, tell you that you weren’t actually his girlfriend. You wanted to hear it from him, even if it was going to rip your heart out in the process.

“I like you, Cale. A lot,” you told him.

“I like you, a lot, too,” he said, shifting himself so he was sitting right next to you. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close to kiss the side of your head. You wanted more from him, more than just the confirmation that you liked each other. You had been playing this game for more than a month now, that stupid hook up turning serious when you weren’t supposed to get this close.

“I brought you something,” he broke the silence that had fallen between the two of you. He pulls the sweatshirt off his body, the one that he had been wearing for the last month and a half or so, the one that was for the playoffs that each player got. “You keep stealing my sweatshirts when you stay over, I figured I would give you one, instead.”

That fucking sweatshirt. You jump when the pump clicks off, momentarily forgetting that you were outside a gas station at that very moment. You could just throw the sweatshirt out, the trash right there between the pumps. You take the sweatshirt out of your backseat, standing there in front of the trash can longer than you probably should. You couldn’t throw it out. You pop your trunk, throwing it behind your bag that was sitting there waiting to be in a hotel room with you, relaxing and far away from everyone.

What else did you have to do besides drive to the hotel at this point? You check your phone one last time before you hit the road, the notifications not stopping as your friends start to panic when they watched you leave the house, your ‘Find My Friends’ feature showing them you were at the gas station.

‘I’m fine, just need to get away,’ you send them, not wanting to give them anymore.

You scroll through the rest of the notifications, your mom the only person who really knew where you were going. You see a notification from Nate, one of Cale’s teammates and one of Serina’s best friends, a missed call for the first time in who knows how long.

You try to ignore the notification, that one sticking out to you more than the rest. Plugging in the directions to the hotel, you finally start driving towards Vail.

Everyone around you was beyond shit faced. The Avs were about to start training camp, the last party someone thought to throw at one of their houses before they had to get back to work after the previous season. They were out for blood, but first they were out of alcohol.

It was a surreal experience to be the most sober person in a room. You weren’t able to operate machinery or make big decisions in any capacity, but you at least were sure you were going to remember the rest of the night.

You were sitting on the couch by yourself, scrolling through your Instagram feed, trying to ignore the fact that Cale was on the other side of the room, flirting with some girl one of the other guys brought.

He had the right to. You still weren’t exclusive, still not calling each other anything more than the person you were hooking up with. You weren’t seeing anyone else, but you hadn’t told him that. You didn’t even want to ask if he was seeing anyone else. That was only going to lead to you being upset. And while you’re drunk, you shouldn’t be upset. Because when you’re upset and drunk, you were bound to make a stupid decision.

No matter what was on the screen in front of your face, you couldn’t help but look up at Cale. You knew he saw you. You knew you were right in his line of sight. You had caught him looking over at you a few times already, a stupid smirk on his face that made your blood boil. He knew what he was doing.

Motherfucker.

“You called?” Nate said, plopping down next to you with such force your phone falls out of your hands and onto the floor. When you look at him confused, he continued, “You said, ‘motherfucker,’ so I made a bad joke.”

“I didn’t know I said that out loud,” you admit.

Nate laughed, loudly, or at least, loud enough to make the heat rush to your cheeks, and enough for Cale’s attention to finally turn to you for more than a second. The smirk on his face immediately turned to a scowl when he saw Nate, probably sitting too close to you for his own comfort.

“So what’s up with you and Cale?” Nate asked. You shrug, hating that you had to have this conversation yet again after having to have it with your friends who knows how many times. “He’s not your boyfriend, though, is he?”

You shook your head. “Nope. Not at all.”

A sickening smile grew on Nate’s face, his arm snaking away around your waist. “Is this ok, then?” he whispered.

You could see Cale’s face getting red from here, watching Nate flirt with you like he was. Nate knew what he was doing. The entire team knew what you and Cale were up to, there’s no way he didn’t know. “Yes,” you said.

Nate got as close to you as he could, pulling you so you were practically sitting in his lap. “What about this?” he asked, his hot breath tickling your neck.

“Yes,” you told him again, turning your head to face him, his lips tantalizingly close to you. You glance to the side, Cale’s entire body now turned towards you and Nate. You didn’t want to kiss his teammate, which was where it looked like this was going, but if it made Cale feel anything about you, you were sure it was worth it.

Before you could process what was going on, Nate’s lips were on yours, moving fast in the way that Cale’s always did at first, that urgency and hunger that he had for you showing with how he couldn’t wait to have your entire body touching his.

He wasn’t Cale, though. He was Nate, not Cale.

The only thing going through your mind was that he wasn’t Cale.

You pull away just as fast as Nate had pulled you in, managing to get out of his grip and got off the couch as fast as you could. You ran to the nearest door you could get into upstairs, your heart racing as you searched to see if you were the only one in the room. You couldn’t have someone in there watch you break down over a guy.

You waited in the room for what felt like forever, the stupid drunk part of you thinking that Cale would come through the door to see you. Or at least Nate would check to make sure you were ok.

Neither of them came.

You felt like you were already driving for hours, when it really was just twenty minutes alone with your own thoughts. How were you supposed to get away from everything when it seemed like everything you saw reminded you of a fucking guy?

Your music wasn’t enough to keep your thoughts away from Cale, every one with lyrics about being in love or about feeling like you weren’t good enough. Why were those the only two moods you felt?

Your stomach starts to make noises, suddenly remembering that you hadn’t eaten anything since the afternoon before at work, wondering how well you could navigate the roads of whatever small town you were driving through at that moment to find food. You reprogram your GPS quickly, a diner about five minutes off the exit of the highway. You weren’t even sure what you wanted, you just knew you had to have something.

A waitress comes over to where you sat down, ordering a burger and fries since it was the only thing you could comprehend as something you’d eat while you tried to figure out why the place seemed vaguely familiar.

Diners had a weird place in your mind. They were the place where you went at 2 in the morning with your friends after a drunk night, where you went for cheap food and lots of it for breakfast at noon or later after a drunk night, or where you got something quick to eat before getting drunk that night. You could probably count on one hand the number of times you had been to a diner where alcohol wasn’t involved at some point around going.

Cale had texted you that night that he wanted you to come over. You did, because of course you did. You wanted to see him, and apparently he wanted to see you. You spent the night together, waking up with his arms wrapped around you, his bare chest pressed against your back and his breath tickling the back of your neck. Every time you woke up like this, you couldn’t help but feel like you could fall for him harder than you already did, like you could be with him more than you already were.

Cale stirred awake, mumbling something against your neck after pressing a sweet kiss against your skin. You turn over, stretching and yawning as he finally released you from his grasp.

“Wow,” he said, his raspy voice making your heart skip a beat. He stared at you for a second before continuing, “You are beautiful.”

You didn’t know what to say to him, leaning over to him to kiss him as the only response you could think of. You wanted this to be more with him.

“Hey, can we,” you started, not entirely sure where you were going to end up.

“Let’s get breakfast,” he said before you could finish, jumping out of bed and throwing a shirt on. He handed you one of his sweatshirts, it hanging on you and hugging you with his smell. You still had the sweatshirt he had given you up in your apartment, sitting on your bed and afraid to wash it because you didn’t want to lose that scent.

He drove you outside the city, a small diner that you had never heard of. Everything was shockingly blue, the seats, the tables, the walls, you were sure the lighting also was as well.

“How do you know about this place?” you asked him as you slid across from each other in the booth, confused as to why he would bring you here, of all places, when there were plenty of breakfast places within walking distance of his apartment,

He shrugged, reaching across the table to take your hand in his, his thumb aimlessly tracing the back of your hand. “I found this place my first year here. I come here when I want to get away from the city but can’t really get away for any meaningful amount of time. It’s kinda special to me.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Him taking you to a place that was special? That had to mean something, right? “I’m honored, then,” you blushed. He had never really taken you anywhere in public, not without your friends or his teammates. Was this a date?

“I’ve taken some of the guys here, too,” he told you, releasing your hand to look through the menu. “Nate’s favorite thing, surprisingly, is the banana walnut french toast.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of his teammate known for having an incredibly strict and almost grossly healthy diet, having something that sounded so sickeningly sweet with a cinnamon maple syrup and whipped cream on it as the menu description told you.

Your mind jumps back to that night with Nate, wondering in that moment what he was doing, who he had woken up next to, where he was spending the morning of his off day.

Would you have gone further with Nate if Cale weren’t right there? Would you have had anything with Nate at all if Cale weren’t there?

That’s why the diner was familiar to you: Cale had brought you here plenty of times since that day. It was your breakfast ‘date’ place, even though he never actually had an answer for you when you tried to ask him if they were dates. He avoided the question at every chance, never wanting to commit to anything more than that.

A couple sitting at the other end of the diner, sitting on the same side of the booth, sharing a plate of fries and looked at each other as if no one else existed around them.

You hated them.

You and Serina somehow ended up at a restaurant downtown that you had never been before, and from the looks of the menu, it made sense why you weren’t there ever. It was way more expensive than any other place you had ever been, even a simple salad being more than what you were really willing to spend on a bowl of lettuce.

“Why are we here?” you whispered to your friend, slightly mad that she would bring you here without telling you where you were going first. She had to know you would never have agreed to a place like this if she told you ahead of time.

Serina gives you a look that told you she’s up to something, something that you were sure you were going to hate. “You’ll see.”

“What does that mean?”

“Can you relax? This is supposed to be a nice treat for you.”

“Oh, so you’re paying?”

Serina scoffed, your anxiety spiking instantly. “No.”

“Well I can’t afford this and I don’t think this is a great treat if I’m expected to pay.”

“No, you’re not paying.”

“Well the only other option is something illegal, and neither of us would survive in prison if we commit a felony.”

“I don’t think skipping out on our bill would land us in prison.” The entire time, Serina didn’t look up from her menu, your heart racing and the prospect of what she had planned. Her phone lit up on the table, a call from someone you couldn’t make out showing on her screen. “Oh, hey, I’ll be right back.”

Before you could argue, Serina was gone, the phone to her ear and you left alone in a place you didn’t want to be. You start looking around; you could just get up and walk out the door. Serina took her bag with her, so it was just you at the table and your waiter or waitress hadn’t even come over to you yet. It wasn’t illegal to sit at a table for a little bit. They willingly lead you there.

“Hey,” you heard from behind you, a hand placed gently on your shoulder that still made you jump.

You turned to see who it was, expecting it to be Serina rejoining you at the table. “Nate?”

The burger came, no one on the other side of you like there was that night, the couple across the diner still mocking you without them realizing it. You hadn’t expected Nate to show up, for him and Serina to be planning that little swap between the two of them since that night at the party. You especially hadn’t expected him to apologize for not chasing after you that night like he thought he should have. He saw Cale, instead, who asked him why he was talking to you that night, if you had talked before.

Apparently Cale had dropped the conversation as quickly as it started, the girl he was talking to while you were on the couch with Nate taking his hand and dragging him off somewhere else.

The food was still sitting in front of you, completely untouched. You check your notifications, your friends still trying to figure out why you up and left the way you did.

If you were being honest, you weren’t a hundred percent sure. Something inside of you broke when you were scrolling social media, his post shattering your heart in ways you didn’t know was possible. You didn’t know why you were feeling this way, this was just supposed to be a hookup.

“Why were you with him?” Cale had texted you that he was on his way over, not giving you anything else when you asked him why. As soon as you opened the door to your apartment, he pushed past you, his face red and his voice loud.

“What are you talking about?”

“Why were you with Nate the other night?”

“Serina planned a date for us.”

“How could you cheat on me?”

You stood there, shocked, feeling all the anger that Cale was feeling and more. “What the fuck are you talking about? We aren’t together. You’ve made that very clear to me.”

“We are together. We’re seeing each other,” he tried to defend himself.

“Really?” you scoffed. “Because last time we even talked about what we are to each other, all we could say was that we liked each other. That was months ago Cale, and all we’ve done is had random hook ups here and there, getting together when you want to, talking to each other when you have the time. If you wanted to be with me, you would have taken me on a date like Nate did fucking ages ago.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Not fair? No, Cale, what’s not fair is you leading me on all this time.”

It was apparently Cale’s turn to scoff, turning his head so he wasn’t even looking at you as he rolled his eyes. “Leading you on?”

“Yeah,” you practically screamed back at him. “You tell me you like me, and then you do nothing to show it. You take me to that random fucking diner and refuse to call it a date, you never take me anywhere, and what about the time when you told me I should fly to Boston to be there for the game on a moments notice? You act like you care about me when it seems convenient for you.”

“What about you?” he spit back, “We both agreed that this would never be serious, so sorry if I kept my promise.”

“Get out,” you yelled. You felt tears coming on, and the last thing you were going to do was cry in front of him.

“I,” he started, taking a step towards you.

You jerk back, startling Cale in the process. “Get out of my fucking apartment,” you yell again, Cale storming off before you can process what even really happened. You plop yourself on the couch, the shock of whatever that fight was hitting you like a tsunami, letting out a violent sob that your neighbors could probably hear.

That couple looked so happy. God, it made you sick.

You pay your tab without eating the food, your appetite leaving you just as fast as you got out of the building. You couldn’t believe you hadn’t recognized all the blue in that building. Cale had taken you on that route who knows how many times before.

The rest of your drive passes without you actually paying attention. You felt like you were on autopilot even though you were driving somewhere you had never been before.

The resort your mom had told you about was beautiful, the king bed once you got into your room calling your name. You flopped down on the soft mattress, finally letting out a breath as you felt all your worries melting away. You throw your phone in your bag, hoping that was enough for you to not think about it as you just laid there and relaxed.

Cale had just texted you that he didn’t think what you had could go any further, especially after the fight the two of you had. The worst part? You didn’t care.

What you did care about was that he had told you by telling you that you weren’t the only person he was seeing. He told you maliciously, as if that was an out for him. You two weren’t serious, it was never meant to be serious after all, just like your friends had said it wouldn’t be.

You hated yourself for thinking they were all wrong.

“What are you thinking about?” Serina asked you, pulling you away from the texts that you were rereading for what had to be the hundredth time from Cale.

“Men fucking suck.”

“Hey, you found a good one, though.”

You didn’t realize you fell asleep, your sadness from earlier in the day draining your energy more than you thought it would. You only woke up because you heard knocking at your door.

You groggily shuffle to the door, opening it without checking through the peephole even though you probably should have.

“Nate?”

Before saying anything, he pulls you in for a hug, a sigh of relief coming out as he planted a kiss on the top of your head. “I’m fine with you needing to get away for any reason, but next time can you tell me you’re going instead of me having to find out from your mom?”

“Sorry,” you mumble against his chest, his smell instantly calming you.

He pulls you into your room, a bag you didn’t notice before dragging behind him. “I’ll leave if you want me to, if you really need to be alone.”

“No,” you say, plopping down on the bed, Nate following suit, “I’m fine with you being here. I like that you’re here.”

He pulls you close again, his arm around your waist. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” You stay silent. Nate knew you better than anyone, so he had to know what happened. “You saw Cale’s post.”

You hated that a stupid Instagram post from Cale still had this much power over you. There was no reason why him getting engaged should crush you when you had been dating Nate for almost two years.

Nate sits silent after you nod, trying to figure out what to say. “He really did a number on you, huh?” You nod, not sure where to even begin with your words. “What does that mean for us?”

“I don’t know.”

#cale makar #cale makar fic #nate mackinnon #nathan mackinnon #nate mackinnon fic #nathan mackinnon fic #colorado avalanche #colorado avalanche fic #avalanche #avalanche fic #avs

66 notes · View notes

avatarkv · 1 year

Text

Two hearts on the floor— one mine, both yours. (And when he died, the sun was buried with him)

You can’t seem to get over it— him.

Content and warning: Neteyam x Reader! Mentions of death. This is purely angst, trust me it does not get better haha good luck

“I want to go home,” You applied pressure to the bleeding wound, eyes never leaving his. Time was a ticking bomb and any second now could be the last so you pleaded— begged! Not now Eywa, you cried, don’t take my darling like this.

His cold hand gripped your wrist tightly, the other on Lo’ak and it only made you shudder in disbelief. The waves hit violently towards the shore and it was difficult to keep track of the voices; a mourning mother, the regret of a brother, and the mistake of Jake Sully— all from the loss of a first born. On top of that, your heart broke loudly that it became inaudible, like white noise growing higher and higher.

“Dad, I” He faltered and then, no more.

☆

“You still with me?” Neteyam tilted his head near yours, worry etched along the creases of his forehead. It was unlike you to be so quiet, especially in escapades with him during eclipses. Times like these were rare, given the responsibilities you both shouldered and the multiple eyes strictly watching over you.

“Sorry, what was it?” You asked, a sudden sting running through your head making you grimace.

“I said, I wanna finally tell my father,” Guilt immediately seized your insides; he was bawling his heart out and you had only spaced out. What was that gut-wrenching sting just then that had taken a piece of your mind?

“I’ve always been so conflicted when I’m not even supposed to— Heck, I’m only thirteen. I thought,” He palmed his face harshly, sighing deeply right after. “I thought I had it good, having Toruk Makto as a father. Five year old me was the proudest, if not a bit boastful too.”

A depressing pause followed after, his shagged breath growing deeper by the second, as if he carefully plucked the words already long buried. Neteyam wasn’t always the mighty warrior everyone drew him to be; he was a coward— terribly scared of what his father would say when his first born denies him of his demands.

“But now, there’s this huge difference that draws the line between being the Toruk Makto and a father and I deeply miss the latter.”

If people could hear how your heart cracked just now, it would bellow throughout pandora. You embraced him tightly, and he let out another sigh that sounded like it was plucked from the deepest pit of his stomach— like he carried all the problems of the world. Poor boy, only wanted what was best.

“I see you, my yawne.” You caressed his cheeks and he took the moment to fully bask in the heat of your palm. How long has it been when someone touched him like this? It was always you that gave him great comfort and he was grateful. “Your father will understand, so help knock some sense onto him, yes?”

He chuckled. “I see you too, ma y/n.”

“Neteyam?” He hummed in response and you felt it vibrate through your body. You love him deeply and you’d do anything to help carry the burden, “I feel you, always.”

☆

It dawned you, he never had the chance to tell Jake.

You wake up, eyes still adjusting to your dim surroundings. It was night still and hearing the sound of harsh waves hitting the shore in the distance fluxed your insides with familiar anguish— had it really been two years since then? You couldn’t tell. Making your way out your pod, you weren’t at all surprised seeing a figure sitting by the sand. Slowly, you sat with him, making your presence known with a soft hi.

“Him again?”

“I would be a big fat liar if I said it didn’t bother me anymore” you chuckled, remembering the countless times you’ve had this conversation already. It was almost like a routine at this point— finding Lo’ak here, talking about him, seeking comfort in each other’s pain. “I don’t think I could ever unlearn him, Lo’ak. I have loved him a bit too much and now I have to stomach it for every day to come.”

“I’m sorry,” For a minute, his mouth stayed agape and deprived of any words. He debated if he should say more instead of lousy apologies, but it was all he had; Lo’ak kept mountains of apologies— sorry for being a trouble child, sorry for not listening, sorry for not doing better. The list would go on and on, but he would never get the chance to get it out his chest so it continued to pile. He sighed, dropping his head.

“It’s not your fault, Lo’ak” You say it again like every other time, but you meant it always. He only hummed in response. You sat in silence with only the noise out for company. It was peaceful like this; no more war, no reprimanding, and no bickering— but at what cost?

“My prayers that night be damned— all of it.” You stood up after hours of watching the water sway indefinitely, legs wobbling from it being idle for a while. It isn’t as heavy anymore, you’ve realized; the conversations weren’t as long unlike before and it’s been long since you have both confided in each other with tears. Maybe it has been two years. “I’m going back to bed, you should allow yourself to rest too, okay?”

“Hey, y/n?” He called out after only taking a few steps.

“Yes?”

“I feel you, always.”

☆

And when you slept, of course it was him again. It was always Neteyam. You were back to the familiar greenery and atmosphere

“You don’t look so pleased for someone who’s been dying to hunt with me all this week,” He laughed, but the way your lips quivered alarmed him so he quickly made his way towards you. “What’s wrong, why are you crying?”

And he seemed so young, you noticed. Dreams aren’t always this vivid; sometimes it fades into blur and a few comes in fleeting sights, but today he stood so real. Only now you felt embarrassed of how you looked— hair unbraided and unruly, posture restless, and you probably looked older— more mature. It was like time only worked for you while he stayed ethereal. It stung how this might continue on and on until you appear all gray and tired. He never became Olo’eyktan and he never became your mate. Funny how he’d forever stay as a child without ever feeling the joy of being one.

“If it was Eywa’s will to take you away from me, then why do you still come back?” You traced his face and its features; the dots and the stripes of his skin. You desperately pictured him over and over, afraid that you would someday forget how he looked like and his entirety would contort to nothing but a distant haze. “I do not feel you anymore, Neteyam, please come home to me.”

“What are you talking about? I’m here, you’re here,” Neteyam swept a few strands of locks behind your ears. He started to feel uneasy and was debating if hunting would be a good idea while you seemed under the weather. “We’re home, always been.”

This was compensation, you thought. The great mother must have taken pity for her to send Neteyam to infiltrate your dreams every night and you were beyond desperate. You shook your head, hugging him as close as you can. “Sorry, just had another bad dream this morning.”

“We are home, Neteyam, always.”

☆ mauve here! i present to you *drum roll* neteyam angst because GOD DAMN I CANNOT GET OVER IT I HATE EVRYONE I HATE YOU JAMES FOR KILLING HIM AND AND AND

the title (and when he died, the sun was buried with him) will be a series of me mourning over his death haha so buckle up. mauve out! ☆

#mauve writes ☆#neteyam sully #Neteyam #neteyam x reader #angst #avatar #Neteyam Sully angst #atwow #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam angst

340 notes · View notes

ccbunnv · 3 months

Note

OMG JUST HAD ANOTHER villain bill idea, basically yn and him get together duhh but like yn wants him to change and it’s toxic bc u cant force someone to change. they have a whole convo ab it and bill’s like, “do you even like me for me?…” and yn is just speechless bc she thinks ab it and is like “…”

im scared of u !

˖°🦇ִ ࣪𖤐 villain! bill x fem! reader angst -> fluff

you were determined to change Bill. to show him that there was something far better than levelling cities and destroying establishments. you loved him too much to let him be ridiculed and insulted on television.

he was a truly nice guy underneath, you knew it. he would buy you flowers and bring you out to nice dates. he took care of you at your worst and you wanted to bring that nice guy out to the open.

you believed that he was simply oppressed into being evil and ruin lives. you believed he had some gut wrenching trauma that led him to be this horrible to everyone else.

and today would be your day.

as you sat right opposite of him in the restaruant, he began talking with a smile, "you know, meine schatz? I thought up a new plan."

"really? what is it?" you asked, returning his smile. you hoped that all your talks with him had changed his mind and this plan would show how he had turned into a better person.

"I've found the area where an ancient relic is hidden and I--" he was cut off by a disappointed look forming on your face.

"that's great," you breathed in and out, trying to show a little bit of interest to his plan.

"what? is it not good enough?" he asked.

"no, it's a great idea, Bill." you sighed a little.

"you're bad at lying," he smiled, "maybe I should go for something bigger."

"no need, I think it's great, love, I..." you were cut off by him.

"how about I blow up the nearby orphanage?" he asked cheerily.

"what? no!" you said.

"I think that's even better!" he said, enthusiastic about his own idea.

"no, Bill!" you rubbed the inner corners of your eyes annoyedly.

"why not?" he asked, frowning.

"Bill, how do you think people would feel if you were to steal that ancient relic, even blow up the orphanage?" you asked, stopping your fork, "that isn't a nice thing to do."

"Maus, have you forgotten what I am?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, "I'm a villain."

"but you don't have to be," you replied, "you can be more than that."

"what do you mean?" he frowned, "I want to be a villain."

"but it isn't you." you shook your head.

"it is me." he responded, "it has always been me. why do you always do this? can't you be happy for me just once?"

"because it's horrible to everyone!" you said, your eyebrows arching.

"so what?" he asked, "how is it horrible?"

"you're stealing a prized artefact that must've taken a group of people years to uncover--" you uttered.

"why do you keep saying people?" he asked, "why do you keep wanting to change me?"

"because I know you have more potential to be of aid to humanity." you replied, placing your utensils down.

"I don't want to." he sighed.

"that's selfi--" you were cut off by him staring right into your eyes.

"so what? you know what I am, I'm a villain, and I like being a villain." he said through gritted teeth, "why do you keep trying to change me? why can't you be supportive? do you even love me for who I am?"

that really got you silent.

yes, you loved him, right?

"you keep trying to control me, to turn me from what I like to do for what?" he asked, "I don't want to appeal to your damn society."

"B-Bill, I--" you stammered, but he simply stood. your heart broke as he didn't even spare you one last glance before he just left like that.

𓆩♱𓆪

that night, you found yourself thinking of his words. you couldn't even sleep. did you love him for him, or were you just trying to control him into someone he wasn't? were you just selfish, trying to make him into a normal civilian?

you gripped your blanket, your heart wrenched. you had read the situation entirely wrong. he wasn't someone with a sad backstory, he just had a passion for being a villain. but why? why would anyone be stoked to be someone everyone hates?

he was right, why couldn't you be supportive of him? you were his girlfriend, the only person he trusts to tell his plans.

you didn't know what to do, because you've fucked up.

the next morning, you decided to meet up with a few friends. you told them what happened, and each of them had the same reaction.

"he's just ungrateful," one said.

"can't he see that you're just trying to help him?" another one scoffed.

"you should just break up with him, y/n." another one sighed.

"maybe you should give up. he's a hopeless case! I know someone better who isn't mean." one of your friends winked.

"but I don't know," you said softly, "he's a nice guy."

"you shouldn't be with someone negative like him." another one of your friends said, "you need to be with someone positive."

"he can't even protect you, can he?" she asked, "he's a villain!"

their words didn't really reach you. they felt overexaggerated and dramatic. and more so, it felt wrong to even listen to.

you were just looking out for him. you wanted to change him for the better. days of not meeting him turned into weeks, and you used that time to think about yourself, what you had done.

one night, it kinda dawned on you that you were being a selfish bitch to him, trying to change him into something he wasn't to appease others. so you reached in and grabbed your phone, texting him if you both could meet up for a coffee. that you had something to tell him.

he didn't reply, but a day later, he responded with just an 'okay.'

that was good enough for you.

𓆩♱𓆪

you both met up in the cafe he would bring you to almost everyday at the start of your relationship with him. you did your best to look good and he noticed.

he sat opposite of you, remaining silent.

you breathed in and out, "Bill, how've you been?"

"fine." he mumbled.

"I'm glad to hear that," you responded, "are you hungry?"

"no." he shook his head, then he sat properly and looked at you, "what the hell do you want? I have to get back to my work."

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry." you said truthfully.

that got him quiet. he looked over at you and waited for you to continue.

"I'm sorry for being such a bitch and trying to change you," you said, pursing your lips and bringing your eyes to meet his, "it's wrong, weird, and I'm sorry."

"you can say that all you want but I don't think I can forgive you," he said, "to think that you dated me just because you wanted to change me---"

"that wasn't what I thought," you shook your head, "I wanted to change you because I thought it'd be better that way."

"what? so I could fucking please the goddamn world?" he asked.

"no, so--" you were cut off by him.

"so you could show me off and say that you've changed me?" he sneered.

you kept quiet, knowing a half of you actually thought that.

"I'm sorry I'm not sort of trophy you can polish and show off to this world." he hissed.

"I know," you responded softly, "you're more than that."

you reached in and slowly held his hand, hoping he wouldn't flinch and pull away. he didn't, he kept his eyes on your hand.

he was conflicted, he didn't know what to do. he loved you still, though your actions left him heartbroken. he was so shocked when you asked him to meet up with you.

"you're better a villain than a civilian." you whispered, "and I'm sorry I never saw that before."

"...really?" he looked up at you hopefully.

you nodded, "I should've just been supportive of you."

he kept quiet, hoping you'd continue.

"I'm sorry again." you said softly, "even if you don't forgive me, I hope you'll at least accept my apology."

he sighed a little and said, "our morals are different, you know?"

you dreaded the worst, "...yeah?"

"but I love you," he said quietly, "and I want us to work."

you looked up at him, expectantly.

"so next time, maybe I'll resort to something a little more tame than blowing up an orphanage." he chuckled a little.

you smiled, "you can."

𓆩♱𓆪

#tokio hotel #y2k #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #bill kaulitz x you #bill kaulitz fluff #angst

51 notes · View notes

itwasthereaminuteago · 2 years

Text

|| From Ashes ||

Pairing: Frank Castle X F!reader

Rating: M

Tags/warnings: unexpected pregnancy (wrap it before you tap it!), bit of angst and small scuffle between Frank+Matt, birth (not explicit), fluff.

A/n: I am not at all interested in having kids but I look at Frank and he somehow just makes me broody as fuck. Also I have limited knowledge of childbirth so please don't come for me with my inaccuracies 😅

If you like my stuff, I'd really appreciate a reblog ♥️

You'd talked about it before, you both wanted to start a family at some point, but that was sometime way off in the future, after all the shit that he was caught up in was taken care of. Frank said it wasn't safe for you and you had agreed. But one day...

The night before the explosion at the docks, not that you could have any idea he wouldn't be coming home, you'd begged him to fuck you raw. You'd had to talk him round to it. Of course you were on the pill and usually always used condoms, but that night for whatever reason you just wanted to feel him.

"Better be careful darlin' or I'll put a baby in you."

The sound you made and the way you felt when those words left his lips and hit your ears you'll never forget.

"Oh, you like the sound of that sweetie?"

In the midst of the gut-wrenching grief and fog of confusion after Frank was gone you'd missed a couple of days of pills but didn't think anything of it. After all, what were the chances? A few weeks later you put the skipped period down to extreme stress, it had happened before. Now you were here, crumpled on the bathroom floor with five positive pregnancy test sticks confirming the real reason behind your 'vomiting bug".

You didn't know what you were going to do. The only thing you were certain of is that you were keeping it.

When you had asked Matt to meet you it was as if he already knew something was up. Aside from the obvious hammering of your heart with nerves, "you smell different", he'd told you.

"I'm pregnant".

That was the first time you'd actually said it out loud.

It suddenly made everything real and you didn't even realise you were crying into Matt's chest as he held you and promised it would all be okay.

When you went for your first scan you realised that your wage from your shift at Josie's wasn't going to cut through the upcoming hospital bills alone. Matt insisted on helping you with the finances but you didn't want a hand out, you wanted to work.

"Well, Nelson, Murdock and Page are actually doing pretty good now, and as we're so busy we could really use some help. How about you come work for us?"

You couldn't thank him enough.

Now it was time. Once you were checked into to the hospital and given a room, Karen and Foggy helped you get settled in and comfortable while Matt gave the nurse some more information.

"Mr Castiglione?"

Matt nodded, going along with your preference of Frank's old moniker and pretending to be your partner. You didn't want to take any unnecessary risks and Matt was more than happy to be there for you.

"Okay, you say the contractions started around an hour ago, and she was feeling a little dizzy?"

"Yes," Matt confirmed, "I think her blood pressure might be low. Will her and the baby be okay?"

The nurse nodded. "We'll keep monitoring her as normal but it's looking fine at the moment, contractions are still quite far apart. Certainly nothing to worry about."

She turned to you. "If they start coming closer together you just let me know, but for now try and relax as best you can honey."

Matt cocked his head as he picked up the radio call of one of the police officers at the opposite end of the floor. A fight underway in an alley a couple of streets away, suspected armed gangland conflict. He looked over at you talking with the others.

"Uh, I'm just gonna go pick up some snacks and water for you from the store round the corner okay?"

You nodded, "thanks Matty, don't be too long, no idea when this baby's coming!"

"Don't worry, be back in no time."

Was it irony that tying up the last loose ends of Frank's past had brought him right back to Hell's Kitchen? When this was over maybe he could finally work out how to come back to his life, back to you.

He'd put three of the gang he'd been chasing down already before a familiar masked pain in the ass jumped down from the fire escape landing in front of him.

"The fuck you doin' here Red?" Frank spat, flooring the last goon with headbutt.

Matt approached him. "Was in the area, heard a ruckus. The usual. Sure as hell didn't expect it to be you somehow..."

Frank chuckled, "yeah I'll bet, you feel like fightin' a ghost?" He inched towards the Devil.

Matt was on his guard. "Not here to fight you Frank but you gotta come with me. Now."

"Nah, nah, you're comin' with me, gonna tell me where my girl is."

"Listen, how long have you been away?" Matt asked him, circling Frank and keeping his distance.

"Had stuff I needed to take care of, what the fuck is it to you?"

"Nine months, Frank. You've been gone nine months."

"Why the fuck does that matter? Where is she?" He roared. "Went to the apartment and most of her stuff is gone... looks like she ain't been there for a while. I know you know, Red. You were always close."

"She's been living with me the last few months-"

Frank charged forward with a growl, aiming to kick Matt square in the chest but he dodged away before he could connect.

"Oh, right yeah! I get it. I'm barely dead and you just slide on in, huh? Real gentleman." He span around fast, popping his elbow up and smashing it into Matt's face making him stagger back, blood gushing from his nose. "If you were anyone else I'd fuckin kill you. But I won't, for her sake."

"Jesus Frank, you've got it all wrong," Matt wiped his nose and spat out the blood in his mouth. "if you'd just stop trying to beat the shit out of me and let me explain!"

Frank grabbed him by the throat, slamming him against the roof door. "Yeah I'd fuckin' love to hear how you think you can get out of this one "

Matt choked, swatting and wrenching at Frank's arm but he was running on pure rage and too strong, his dark eyes blazing into Matt's unfocused ones.

He swallowed, "she came to me... 'bout a month or so after you were gone..."

Frank's grip tightened. "She came to you?"

Matt tried to get the words out as fast as he could given the circumstances.

"Hngh-... s-she was scared, she'd just found out she... she was pregnant. She was worried about money, worried she couldn't cope. Karen, Foggy and I... we've looked after her, made sure she has everything she needs."

Frank choked as he processed Matt's words.

"Pregnant? W-what? Who's... is it yours?!" He pushed Matt into the wall.

Matt spluttered out an incredulous laugh, "Think about it Frank,"

He turned it over in his mind, you were his everything, all he wanted was to keep you safe, and him ending up 'dead' had the perfect way to do it. He could hunt down every single threat from his past and blow them away easy. It had taken him almost all the way across the country in about nine months. Nine fucking months...

"Fuck." Frank released his hold on Matt and fell down to his knees.

"My girl, she- she's..." He ran his hand through his hair, shaking his head. Matt coughed, trying to get his breath back as he straightened up, laying his hand on Frank's shoulder.

"She's in Metro General right now. I've been trying to tell you, c'mon I'll take you to her."

They entered the hospital through a service door at the rear, Matt guiding them through the corridors without drawing attention to an vacant locker room. He gestured at a shelf of clean scrubs opposite as Frank checked behind them was clear before closing the door.

"Clean up as best you can and put those on. Can't have you waltzing in there looking like you just beat some Russian gangsters to a bloody pulp, huh?"

Frank grunted, shedding his bloodsoaked, dirty shirt and donning the blue scrubs and borrowing a hoodie hanging on a peg before heading to the sink in the corner, washing his hands and splashing his face with water.

He paused gripping the edge of the sink, leaning over it. Bloody droplets fell onto the stainless steel and trickled down the drain.

"You ready?" Matt called, taking off and shoving the makeshift mask he was wearing under some trash in the bin.

Frank shook his head slowly. "I'm scared Red, christ.'

"I think that's normal...."

"I mean, I'm fucking terrified." He started pacing, "what if I go in that room and she... she doesn't want me?"

"She will Frank. She does. She loves you, she never stopped loving you."

Frank looked up at him.

"C'mon," Matt said, opening the door. "you don't want to miss this."

As they headed up to your room, Matt filled Frank in.

"Her water broke after I uh, made her laugh a bit too much..."

"Typical." Frank mused.

"Mild contractions started a couple hours ago, they're still pretty far apart but I brought her in early as her blood pressure was low," Matt sensed Frank's immediate concern. "She's fine, she's okay. Baby's heart is strong."

Frank chuckled in disbelief, "you can hear that?"

Matt smiled, shrugging, "yeah."

"Jesus. Can you tell what it is, I mean, does she know... boy or girl?"

Matt smirked. "No, she didn't want to know. And I'm not that good Castle. It's a... surprise."

Frank laughed nervously as he followed him around the next corner. "Damn right it is."

Frank froze in the doorway when he saw you, lying propped up on the bed hooked up to a monitor. You were talking to Karen. A little bit of sweat beaded your forehead. He could see the rounded swell of your stomach under the sheet that covered you. He'd never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

"Matty, you're back! What the hell happened to you?" You exclaimed, seeing the bruises on his face, eyes flicking to the hooded figure in scrubs beside Matt.

"...Karen, they've definitely not given me any drugs yet have they? This baby's making me crazy, I thought I saw Frank standing next to Matt."

You watched Karen stare at the doorway, her jaw opening and closing silently.

"He- he is." She finally said in disbelief.

"Karen don't joke, Frank's dead."

You laughed as the Frank-shaped hallucination belted across the room to your side and gently grabbed your hand.

"What? This... isn't real... he's- you're dead." You stuttered, trying to comprehend the fact you could feel him squeezing your hand, his eyes fixed on yours, glittering with tears about to fall. "But, you're dead..." you choked out.

Matt rubbed at his throat, his voice still hoarse and raw, "I promise you he's real, and very much alive."

"Sweetheart." Frank's voice was small, rough and choked up but there was no mistaking it. He raised your hand to his lips and kissed, brushed your hair back out of your face and kissed you on the forehead. He said your name, it was just like the dream you had on so many nights but the warmth of his lips that you thought you'd never ever feel again was so solid and real and here. You flung your arms around him pulling him as close as you were able to. Holding on to him so he wouldn't disappear again.

"Frank! Oh my god Frank-"

He nuzzled against your neck, kissing you there too. "I'm here baby, I'm so sorry! God I've missed you so so much." You breathed each other in, you were whole again.

You cried, he cried, Karen cried, even Matt was blinking away tears.

Frank finally found your lips and almost kissed the breath from you. You held him there for a long moment, foreheads touching, before letting him go and smacking him in the face with your right hook.

He rubbed at his jaw, moving it from side to side. "Yeah, I deserve that."

"Fucking right you do, where the hell have you been?! I thought you were dead! We all did!"

He sat beside you on the bed. "I know, god I wanted to tell you, to see you..." he kissed your fingers again. "there were things I needed to take care of you to keep you safe, and it meant that I couldn't come back. I didn't know that... that you- fuck if I'd known..."

"That I'm having your baby? Our baby."

"I'm so sorry honey, sorry I wasn't there for you. Shit, I've really missed everything, the scans... wasn't even there to rub your feet..."

"Not much to miss, just me growing to the size of and looking like a beached whale. Anyway, Matt and Foggy gave A+ foot rubs."

Frank dipped his head. "Shit, I owe you guys, big time. You came through for my girl. I'll make it up to you I swear."

Matt shrugged, "you don't have to, nothing we wouldn't have done anyway. Just glad you're back Castle."

"Yeah," Karen added, smiling, "you're where you belong."

Just then Foggy returned from the coffee run. "Sorry it took so long, the guy in front punched the machine and actually broke it because it wouldn't give him change so I had to go-" he clocked the hooded figure crouched by your side stroking your hair. "Castle..?"

Matt reached out catching hold of the coffee cups before Foggy dropped them out of shock.

"Holy shit... I guess daddy's home?!""

"Good to see ya Nelson." Frank nodded before turning back to you.

"Anyway, you ain't the size of a whale, you look beautiful, doesn't she?" He looked to the others for some backup.

You snorted, "oh yeah, ask the opinion of my best friends, one of whom is blind..."

Matt just grinned while Foggy and Karen clamoured to assure you that you looked great.

"Well you're fucking gorgeous, and I love you." Frank said as he kissed your lips again. You saw his eyes flick down to your belly as he sat back.

"I love you too, so much. Here," you say, pulling your gown up a little way and taking his hand and placing it carefully on your bump.

Frank shook his head, a choked laugh escaping his lips as he felt movement, still not fully believing.

"I swear it's gonna be better at kicking ass than you!" You joked.

He smiled, and you bathed in it. "This is really happening huh?"

"Yeah, and-" You hissed, gritting your teeth as pain suddenly lassoed around your abdomen. "it really fucking hurts!" Frank tried to soothe you as you shifted around trying to get comfortable, you got him to pull you up so you could stand and lean over the bed while he rubbed your lower back.

"You okay?" Matt asked. He tilted his head, a furrow appearing between his brows.

You laughed nervously, "heh yeah, peachy." Another contraction, this time much stronger hit you and you felt like you wanted to bear down. "Oh fuck!" You groaned, your legs buckling with the pain. Matt made to move towards you but Frank caught you and held you up.

"Okay," Foggy said, putting his coffee down, "I'm no expert but I think these contractions are getting a mite closer together, gonna go get someone."

"Thanks Foggy." Frank resumed massaging your back and you hummed with gratitude, bracing yourself for the next round of pain.

"Think this baby decided it's time to meet their daddy..."

The midwife and nurse appeared with Foggy. "Alright, anyone who's not a parent will have to leave. This ain't a party."

Karen squeezed your hand, "we'll be right outside, you've got this."

"Good luck!" Foggy said, kissing your cheek.

"You're gonna be fine sweetie, Frank's gonna take good care of you." Matt said. As he reached for the door you turned to Frank.

"I want him here, please..." Frank nodded, he owed Matt that much and it was your decision.

"Matt will you stay?" You called out to him.

"Of course, if that's okay?" He replied, humbled that you'd asked.

"Can he?" you asked the midwife with pleading eyes.

"Fine, just don't get in the way." She said. "Dad, you come over this side, you're gonna be her squeeze toy and help her breathe okay?"

"Yes ma'am." Frank replied, taking your clammy hand in his as you focused on him.

Matt sat on the opposite side, his fingers locking between yours.

The midwife checked you over. "Alright honey it's time to push, nice big deep breaths for me, here we go."

A girl.

Frank was so in love with you both and he couldn't do enough to help when he got to take the two of you home. It made your heart burst to see him singing to her, getting up in the middle of the night to help feed and change her. This was a side of him you'd never seen but you always knew was there.

Matt, Foggy and Karen worked tirelessly to find a way to exhonourate him from the dock incident, and all the other gang hits while he was 'dead' were untraceable back to him anyway. He'd been careful.

You both finally had your own family, as well as your found family, and nothing was ever going to take that away.

#frank castle x female reader #frank castle fic #pregnant reader #frank castle fluff #the punisher fluff #the punisher x reader #punisher fic #frank castle x reader #the punisher x female reader

456 notes · View notes

saints-who-never-existed · 4 months

Text

Rereading The Terror

Chapter Forty-Five: Blanky

The end is nigh for poor Blanky and I for one am heartbroken!

He's on his third leg now. The first was finely crafted but snapped off around the time that Pilkington and Le Vesconte (Blanky calls him Harry) died. That day he rode in a boat with Mr Honey the carpenter who fashioned him a new one, rather impressively, while on the move.

When he's up and hobbling along once more he does all he can to show solidarity with the men. They're doing things just as Blanky describes to Fitzjames in the show - carrying half a load a day's march then doubling back for the other half. And even though Blanky himself can't carry much or haul at all, he still tries to do those things anyway and makes a point of marching in both directions alongside the other men.

The only thing that's really keeping him going is the thought of being able to take to the water in the boats and put his ice master's knowledge to good use once more. It's come up a few times now, this notion that many of the men who survive longest and show the fewest signs of illness are those who have the most to live for and Blanky's definitely in that group, I think. There's even more immediacy to his situation though: "Still, it was not only his usefulness that was being decided by the ice, but his survival... once the ice master was at sea again, he would survive... If he could last until they took to the boats, Thomas Blanky would live."

Then, of course, there is Tuunbaq, still stalking them on their journey south and coming for Blanky first, so he believes. And, to be fair, that's an astute assessment of things - his leg is in a sorry state indeed and he leaves a trail of blood for it to follow wherever he goes, after all.

Blanky does what he can to hide the extent of it, sweltering in his greatcoat long after the other men are hauling in their shirt sleeves in the comparative heat of summer. "I'm cold-blooded, boys" He'd said with a laugh. "My wooden leg brings the chill of the ground up into me. I don't want you to see me shiver." :(((

Blanky reflects on a few other events as he hobbles painfully along. He recalls that two other men have died of the same tin-based poisoning that killed Fitzjames (though Richard Aylmore remains unaffected). And he notes that, even with the temperature rising, the men are plagued by frostbite still as well as snowblindness and headaches from refusal to wear their mesh goggles. One man notes that "wearing the God-damned wire goggles was as difficult as trying to see through a pair of lady's black silk drawers but much less fun." which is very amusing to me.

Blanky is especially aware of these medical issues as he's begun to help Goodsir where he can. Interestingly, Goodsir trusts Blanky not only to fetch things from the locked medicine chest but seemingly trusts him not to blab about the final secret vial of laudanum he's got in there, despite lying to the men that it's all gone.

Blanky also notes, heartbreakingly, how their minds and very identities as sailors are deteriorating away along with their bodies: "Sailors who had tied off complicated rigging and shroud knots in the roaring darkness fifty feet out on a pitching spar two hundred feet above the deck on a stormy night off the Strait of Magellan during a hurricane blow could no longer tie their shoes in the daylight."

When his third leg finally snaps, Blanky sits down on a rock and accepts his fate. It's gut-wrenching just like the show but also funny as Blanky finds opportunity to be sassy to both Tozer ("He had always enjoyed irritating the stupid sergeant by using his first name.") and Crozier.

He doesn't have quite the same close relationship with Crozier as in the show, though there's clearly still respect and some love there. They argue the matter a little but Crozier respects his decision, offering him a water bottle and promising to get word of Blanky's fate back to his family (although, as with Irving and his supposed Bristol-based upbringing, Blanky's family and home in Kent (?!!) are details that Simmons apparently pulls right, infuriatingly, from his arse)

It is after midnight when Tuunbaq finally appears. Blanky greets it like an old friend ("Welcome back," said Thomas Blanky to the shadowy silhouette on the ice.") before meeting his fate grinning fiercely all the while. "You're late," said Blanky. He could not help it that his teeth were chattering. "I've been expecting you for a long time." Unlike with the front he put up for the men beforehand, Blanky knows it doesn't matter anymore if Tuunbaq sees him shivering... :(((

#The Terror #The Terror AMC #Observations #Random Observations #Meta #Rereading the Terror #Terror Spoilers #Thomas Blanky #Tuunbaq

18 notes · View notes

slutnali · 13 days

Note

part two 💌

💋 Intimacy HC

💖 Pregnancy HC | 💐 Family/kids HC

ty again💖💖 I'm going to try to answer with different sashmiranetra au's<3

💖 Pregnancy HC

Okay so, honestly, I think it just makes sense for Mirage to be afraid of pregnancy across any au. I can't really envision her wanting to be pregnant in any universe. In fact, she got an abortion in fake dating au back in her early 20s and it was the best decision she could've done.

The only time she likes the idea of pregnancy is when she's super horny and needs to be bred or in the A/B/O au's.. WHAT. WHO said that?? I think there's ghosts in here.

I think the most gut wrenching pregnancy hc is in the sugar bb au with Sash wishing so badly she could have Neech's babies, to the point where its brought tears to her eyes late at night after Neech has made love to her. She'd make the most beautiful pregnant woman too, glowing and round, feeling the babies kicking and moving her wife's hand across her belly to feel it.

And you know Neech would be on her feet putting on a hoodie, sweats and shoes to get her wife whatever the fuck she was craving.

💐 Family/kids HC [fake dating]

the only family ever are the Amuro's from fake dating au. the family that took in stray Anetra when he was kicked out of his home at 17, the family that adopted him without legally adopting him, but thats besides the point!!!!!!!!

Miri's family becomes his family despite not being blood and later on Sasha will be able to call them family too. She gets to be a part of that community, gets to go to the carne asadas and parties, she's welcomed in with a warm smile from Miri's ma and offered home cooked food that warms Sasha from the inside out.

She sees the influence of Miri's dad on Neech, she understands him being such a provider when she sees the way Miri's dad treats her mom/family.. It's also confirmed how much of a princess Miri is, not that it was surprising at all eibeuirfbeiuf

Sasha gets to see her partners interact with kids for the first time. The way Miri's begged by her little cousins to get their hair braided or the panicked face she makes when she's handed a seven month old to hold while the parents dance. She sees Neech play with the littles asking him to lift them with his forearm which makes them giggle.. she sees him play soccer with the kids that are a little older.

And also, Miri getting to teach Sasha how to dance to their music.

💋 Intimacy HC [sugar bb au]

Depends what level of intimacy we're going for here.. so I'll do a mix

One thing is for certain in our au's, Miri's hypersexual and its a blessing and a curse but something that her two lovers enjoy playing with. They edge the poor girl for hours or days, depends on how they're feeling. Driving her to the point of frustrated tears time and time again.

Sasha lovesss rubbing over Neech over her pants, she's usually always hard packing. Whether its just the two of them making out and getting handsy or they're watching Miri strip for them.

Another thing that's also for certain is how touchy and affectionate Miri is. I looove Miri laying on top either of them when they're lounging on the sofa. Anetra sat down, typing away at her phone sending some last minute emails or something and miri laying her head on her chest. Even if Neech is busy she just wants to be there.

I just think it makes sense for Sasha to get kissed on her shoulders across any au, they look soft and they're so freckled.. shoulder kisses are cute and intimate!!!!1

#answered #sashmiranetra #writing meme #sugar bb au #fake dating au

8 notes · View notes

pidge-poetry · 6 months

Text

Foals’ Yannis Philippakis on the “brutal” music he’s written for new play ‘The Confessions’

The frontman tells us about the score and "inspiring" story behind the devastating new Alexander Zeldin play at The National Theatre, and how his long-awaited project with the late Tony Allen is finally nearing completion

by Andrew Trendell for NME | 24th October 2023

Credit: Tom Oxley for NME

Foals frontman Yannis Philippakis has spoken to NME about making his theatrical debut by penning the music for new play The Confessions, as well as his long-mooted project with the late Tony Allen.

Having opened at London’s National Theatre last week before a press showing last night (October 23), The Confessions is an emotional, gut-wrenching and powerful play written and directed Alexander Zeldin – telling the story of his mother’s life across eight “tumultuous” decades across two continents and a series of complex relationships.

Philippakis and Zeldin have known each other since their days at school, when they would sneak away to smoke together on a nearby riverbank. Speaking with NME, the artist explained how the director had “a reputation that preceded him a bit” as someone “ferociously intelligent, but with a naughty streak”.

“We’ve just been in each other’s lives for a long time, but with differing orbits and different worlds,” Philippakis told NME. “Both of us have been circling towards working together over the years, and then the orbit got closer and we’ve finally been able to make something together.”

Their creative partnership came into fruition during the pandemic, when the two would go for long walks together around London when they were allowed.

“We had this great one around Blackheath and Greenwich when the weather was pretty blustery,” said Philippakis. “That’s when he just started talking about this idea of writing a piece of work to encapsulate his mother’s life. It was really inspiring.”

He continued: “I was shocked by the story, because I had met his mother a few times. My experience of her was that she was very permissive. Alex would invite people round to his house on a Sunday night and people would be smoking dro’ all over the house. Alex would invite street musicians to his house, we’d have school the next morning, and there were just all these people reading poetry and doing drugs in front of his mother!

“When he told me the story of some of the things that had happened to her and her arc from growing up in Australia to all of these shocking things that happened to her until she moved to England. Alex described this moment when her mother was nearly pushed off a cliff with murderous intent, and I told him that I could write music for that moment. That’s what bonded me to working on the project.”

Explaining how he approached penning music away from the context of an arena-filling indie band, Philippakis recalled it as “a really fascinating learning experience”.

“Alex was super free in not really giving me any direction,” he said. “It was liberating, and amazing stuff came out of it. I just went on my own to the studio and didn’t really use the guitar at all. Everything started off on a Roland Juno synth, and I’m not a very good synth or keyboard player, so I had to really push myself. It was quite frustrating and slowed down the pace of what I was doing, but I found that tension of not being fully adept at the instrument quite inspiring and gratifying.

“I ended up writing something quite beautiful out of that perseverance. I would send stuff to Alex and he’d always just encourage me and say, ‘Go further’.”

Yannis described the material as “harsh and brutalist in a way” with “metallic blasts of sound”.

“We refer to one of the repeated sounds as ‘an ancient elephant’ because it sounds like a primal blast from a brutal past,” he said. ‘I wrote a lot of music for Alex, and kept asking, ‘How much music can the play and the theatre take?’ One big thing I discovered was that what’s right for theatre is very different to what’s right for something filmed.

“That was a big chasm to understand, and I now have a bunch of very cinematic pieces of music that might be for a different project. A lot of the challenge of doing this has been in approaching how and when the music should be used, supportive and discreet.”

The frontman continued: “There’s one piece of music called ‘A Farewell’, which is my favourite and is super emotive and melancholic. It’s quite manipulative in a way. It’s played quite quietly over a scene where two characters declare a love for one another that’s so passionate it’s almost cannibalistic. It’s beautiful to have actors live inside that musical moment. The first time I saw that was in rehearsals in France, and it was a rush that I’ve never had in the band.

“Some of the music is super loud and almost attacks the play. There are scenes where it’s confronting, and I really enjoyed making something jarring that fights aspects of the play and shakes the theatre.”

For Foals fans looking to see the play, the frontman said that they would find “some musical DNA in there that they’ll be familiar with”, and that the score may evolve into something else later down the line.

“Some of the pieces being used may go on to find their final form in a song,” he said. “There are definitely a couple of pieces that I will finish as songs at some point; I don’t know in what project. By seeing the play, you’re going to see the embryo of something to come.”

“There are loud and cool sounds, but no spicy indie bangers!”

From here, Yannis said that he was “open” to doing more soundtrack and score work – particularly with Zeldin – with a dream of eventually penning music for “some kind of crazy, out there, twisted musical”. He also said that he’d be taking away some lessons on staging that may influence future Foals tours, but that the band would be taking time to re-charge after their upcoming shows in Australia to complete touring for 2022’s ‘Life Is Yours‘.

After that, Philippakis said that his long-awaited project with the late, great Fela Kuti icon Tony Allen would finally see the light of day – having been in the works since 2017, long before the percussionist’s death in 2020.

“It’s pretty done now,” Yannis revealed. “We’re in the very final mixes. David Wrench [David Byrne, The xx, Frank Ocean, Sampha, Caribou, Blur, Arlo Parks, Florence + The Machine] has mixed it. It’s going to come out next year.

“I need to figure out how to present it to the world and come up with a name for it. Hopefully we’ll play some shows to honour the project and to honour Tony. I’m really excited and think people are going to love it.”

Speaking to NME about the project earlier this year, Philippakis said: “The songs have amazing grooves obviously, with Tony Allen on drums. They’re quite dirty, quite rough, fun, polyrhythmic and some of them are quite up-lifting. There’s something generally liberating about having a separate project. It feels like a holiday, in a way. Even thought I always put 100 per cent of myself into everything, by virtue of it not being a Foals project it feels liberating in certain ways.

“The lyrics are slightly different and slightly more political. They’re less introspective and have more of a social edge. I was walking to studio in Paris through trash-filled streets due to the strikes, so some of that crept in. I don’t want to give too much away. I want it to be a document of the time that we were together in Paris and for it to be faithful to this Parisian band with Tony as the drummer.”

The Confessions runs at The National Theatre until 4 November.

#yannis philippakis #liy era #the confessions #foals #tony allen

19 notes · View notes

neewtmas · 1 year

Text

inspired by the horribly sad locklyle angst playlist we made, and after the gut wrenching locklyle fic by @givemea-dam-break (I tried really hard not to get influenced by what you wrote, I hope it worked🥴) I was really in the mood to write something sad as well

it’s not very long, and probably not very good (angst is not my usual thing), but I had to get it out of my system

loosely based on this song, english translation of the lyrics here if anyone is interested

Heavy rain drums on the roof relentlessly, splatters against the small window. He welcomes the monotonous sound, though it’s doing little to drown out the thoughts screaming in his head. The room around him is dark, the furniture black, shapeless forms. Not that he’s trying to see anything, anyways. His eyes are locked on the ceiling, though it’s too dark now to make out the detailed woodwork.

It would be easy to reach over and switch on the small lamp that is situated on the bedside table, but he doesn’t reach over. He doesn’t move at all. His whole body is numb, yet every breath he takes hurts deep in his chest, feels like a thousand tiny needles stabbing him, and it feels like he deserves it. He deserves to never again feel anything but pain. He’s the one who drove her away, the one who made her leave.

He doesn’t remember exactly how long it’s been since she closed the door of 35 Portland Row behind her for the last time, gave him one last look, said one last goodbye. He only knows he hasn’t slept properly since she left. The few times he looked in the mirror, he did not recognize himself. Dark shadows under his eyes, darker than they have ever been before. Ashen skin, sickly pale, hair a mess. And his eyes - he meets his own empty stare, unable to look away.

If only she could see him now. Maybe she would realise her leaving him could never protect him. Her mere presence - every soft smile, every gentle touch, every word she said to him - she had saved him from himself. And now she is gone, and he doesn’t know if she will ever come back.

He starts taking sleeping pills at night. He leaves the bottle in the bathroom because he doesn’t want George to find out, but even the pills don’t help him sleep through an entire night. Too often he startles awake, still hearing her voice, still seeing her smile behind his eyelids from the dream that is fading away way too fast. Every time, the realisation she isn’t there hits him like a freight train. Every time, he swallows another pill and cries himself to sleep in her bed.

Sometimes he manages to leave her room - is it her room still? He doesn’t say a word to anyone. He sits in the kitchen, staring into nothingness, the tea Holly made for him getting cold. It tastes wrong anyway. It isn’t how she made it. He can feel the pitiful looks George and Holly give him when they walk past him, and he knows they want to say something, but he is grateful they don’t.

Sometimes, the phone in the hallway rings. He ignores it, waiting for Holly to pick up and politely inform whoever is calling that Lockwood & Co is not currently taking any new cases. Sometimes, it’s the doorbell that rings. The first time it happens, he is on his way up the stairs, back to her room after sitting in the kitchen for hours. He almost tumbles down the steps because he is so fast to turn around. But when he rips open the door, it’s not her. He stares at the older woman in front of him for a brief moment, before he slams the door and turns around. He ignores Holly rushing to the door, he doesn’t hear what she is telling the woman. The ringing in his ears is deafening.

When he has curled up in her bed again, he pulls the blanket over his head, breathing in her scent that surrounds him wholly, like a warm embrace. He wishes he could hug her one last time, every fibre of his being is screaming for it. After that, he ignores the doorbell just as he ignores the telephone. He can’t bear seeing another face that is not hers.

#locklyle #locklyle fic #lockwood x lucy #lockwood and co #lockwood & co

43 notes · View notes

quarantineddreamer · 1 year

Text

This came to me last night (after a few drinks at a holiday party) and I typed it out before going to sleep. Not at all the first fic I planned on posting for this ship, but it’ll be another week or so before my Andor AU is ready for posting and I was in the mood for some indulging, trope-filled fun ♡

*Post- Scarif, Featuring: a rebel party, jealous Jyn, many just enough drinks, bestie Bohdi, and a nice closet for a kiss (thank you, closet)

A Winter's Night on Yavin 4

The Rebel Alliance was celebrating the arrival of winter. Or at least, the closest to a proper winter Yavin 4 ever got -marked by a month of cooler, slightly less sticky evenings and maybe a weeks’ worth of bracing winds. In truth, it was just the rebels seizing any opportunity for a celebration.

And Jyn had to admit, the rebels really could throw quite the party.

This evening, the hangar was practically unrecognizable, lanterns were strung up everywhere —dangling from the ceiling, hung off the nose of an x-wing, strung between towers of crates- even LMTR-20 had a bright golden light adorning its hull. The base looked like a galaxy, gleaming with starlight.

But the romanticism of the scene was waning for Jyn, who sat atop a crate taking strong swallows of her third drink of the evening, her eyes fixed on a certain Captain Andor and his new ‘friend’.

The friend was a blonde woman with dazzling blue eyes and a pretty face. Scarily perfect, really —no bruises or scars or anything, a rarity for a rebel. She had long, slender legs that gave her the perfect angle to look right into Andor’s eyes -no neck craning needed- and much to Jyn’s irritation, was taking full advantage of that fact presently. Jyn watched, as the beautiful woman stepped closer to Cassian with a smile.

Jyn finished her drink in one go, the liquor burning her throat and setting her cheeks aflame. She wished she’d just brought a whole bottle up here with her. Walking all the way to the table where the drinks were being poured would take too long. She needed something to wipe this strange, wrenching feeling from her gut now.

“Jyn? Are you seriously ignoring me? Jyn!”

She wasn’t sure just how long Bodhi had been standing there trying to talk to her. She swiped his cup from his hand and drained it.

“Hey!” the pilot protested. “What’s the deal with you tonight? It’s a party and you look like you’ve stepped in bantha shit.”

“I’m fine,” Jyn snapped. But Cassian was laughing at something the woman had said and her hands instinctively curled into tight fists, her throat seemed suddenly tight.

“Very convincing.”

“Leave me alone, Bodhi.”

He sat down beside her and pulled a flask from the pocket of his vest.

This time, Jyn waited for an offer before partaking. Luckily, her friend was generous and held the container out to her. “Thanks,” she muttered.

“Jyn…”

“I don’t want to talk about it, Bodhi.” There’s nothing to talk about.

“Kind of seems like you should though…”

Cassian was leaning against the leg of a ship. He’d never admit it to anyone, but Jyn knew he tended to do that when his back was bothering him –lean against whatever was closest. He’d even used Jyn once or twice, though Jyn was certain she didn’t make for much support given her height.

Of course, maybe now he was just trying to position himself closer to the woman with the flawless skin and gentle smile.

Jyn took another sip from the flask. “Any idea who that is?” she asked, pointing in the blonde’s direction, and trying to sound casual.

Bodhi followed her hand. “Talking to Cassian? No idea. New recruit, maybe?” He glanced at her. “Why do you ask?”

“Just seems like they’re really hitting it off,” Jyn mumbled.

Bodhi looked again and shrugged. “If you say so.”

Not that I care, thought Jyn. Or at least, she thought that she shouldn’t care. There had been something that changed between them since Scarif, but she had been pretty sure it was a fluke. Feelings brought on my impending doom that would fade with time.

Sure, she’d felt closer to Cassian since then. Found that she enjoyed getting to work alongside him and get to know him more, yeah. But he certainly hadn’t ever given her indication there was anything else to think about between them, so why was she so bothered by who he spent his time with at a holiday party?

“Have you said hi to him yet tonight?” Bodhi asked her.

She’d been about to, but then she’d seen how close he was standing to this woman, and she’d walked away, not wanting to interrupt. Gone to find a drink. And apparently, a place to spy. “No. We see each other all the time. It’s not a big deal.” There was a weight on her chest, she fidgeted but the movement did nothing to shake the irritating sensation. Why did I walk away?

“I’m sure he’s been looking for you...”

Jyn scoffed. “Doesn’t look like it to me.”

“I know you can’t be this stupid.”

Jyn turned to her friend, gaping. “Excuse me?”

“You’re going to tell me you don’t notice how he looks at you? How you look at him?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Okay, sure,” Bodhi rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say… “

She took another less forceful swig from Bodhi’s flask. Sat in the quiet for a minute, contemplating. “We’re just friends,” she told the pilot, but it sounded like a question more than a statement.

Bodhi nodded, but he was watching Cassian and the unnamed woman now too. “Is that what you want?” he asked.

She opened her mouth to say ‘Yes’ but the word never made it past her lips. Her eyes wandered to Cassian again. Everyone had on their best, least-singed, torn, and or oil, dirt, or blood-stained clothes tonight, including him. His beard looked freshly trimmed, his hair neatly combed. It wasn’t the Cassian she was used to seeing, but it was still Cassian, and she found herself lost in that fact. Found herself wanting to know what he was saying in this instant, wanting to hear the comforting sound of his voice. It didn’t really matter what he was saying, it didn’t really matter if he was in clean clothes, or in a state of complete disarray –she wanted him.

The man who she’d embraced at the end of the world. And she realized, with a start, if she had to do it all over again, she wouldn’t change a thing. It wasn’t that she wanted him in danger with her –she never wanted him in danger at all. It was just that, for someone who had grown so accustomed to being alone, she felt an odd sense of loneliness imagining being without him. They’d been given the seemingly impossible: life, a second chance. Yet here she was letting minutes, days, months pass by without trying.

Bodhi risked injury to put his arm around her and give her shoulders an affectionate squeeze. She grumbled at the touch, but turned to him with a slight smile all the same. “Thanks for sharing your booze with me,” she murmured.

“I didn’t think I had a choice,” he laughed.

“That would be correct.”

Bodhi nudged her and tilted his head in the direction of Cassian and the blonde. “I think we’ve been caught,” he said quietly.

The captain was looking their way and for a moment Jyn thought she caught an odd look on his face, but it quickly passed, his eyes returning to the woman in front of him. Jyn flushed with embarrassment. He was probably wondering what the hell she and Bodhi were doing watching him like a couple of creeps.

The woman was saying something into Cassian’s ear now, her lips turning at the corners with mischief that turned Jyn’s muscles to stone and turned the alcohol in her belly to acid.

She figured she had two choices: 1) Disrupt whatever was about to happen over there and most likely make a fool of herself in the process or 2) Leave it be, and be tortured wondering what might happen the rest of the night, tortured by the prospect that Cassian would be with someone else, and that she would be all alone –even in a room full of people, even with Bodhi sitting next to her. It didn’t matter, she wanted him by her side. Always, if given the choice between anyone in the galaxy, it was him that she would choose to face anything, even the end of the world, with.

Shit.

“What?”

Did I say that out loud? “Shit,” she said again.

“Jyn?”

For the second time that night, she stole the flask from Bodhi and let the alcohol spill into her blood, setting fire to her veins, and igniting what she hoped would be some courage. “There’s something I’ve got to do,” she muttered.

Despite the efforts she had taken to fortify her nerves, Jyn found her heart was as unsteady as her legs when she pushed herself from the crate to the ground. Her cheeks burned as she began walking across the hangar towards him, her entire body buzzed with an energy she felt certain could send an entire fleet into hyperdrive.

Scarif had been scary. It had required no small amount of courage. Yet what she was about to do seemed a hundred times more terrifying. She’d rather be facing an entire troop of Imps than doing this. But her feet continued to carry her forward.

She didn’t stop when she reached Cassian, instead, her hand flew to the front of his shirt and tangled in the fabric. “I need to talk to you,” she said in a rush, barely certain the words were even properly formed.

“O-” she pulled him after her without waiting for a reply, “kay. Um, Jyn, slow down, what’s the rush?”

She didn’t answer, couldn’t answer, couldn’t stop now or she’d lose face and send Cassian back to the blonde whose glare she felt burning into her spine. She stopped only once –hand still firmly holding the front of the captain’s shirt- to scan for someplace private to…well, she wasn’t sure what exactly to yet, but she knew she wasn’t going to have the guts to do it in front of the entire Rebel Alliance. Her eyes flew to the closest door in sight and dragged Cassian towards it.

The door opened and she pulled him in after her. The door shut behind them and she found her back pressed against a supply shelf, her chest just under an arm’s length away from Cassian’s.

She stared at her hand, still holding a fistful of his shirt. She could smell whatever soap he had scrumaged up to clean it, could feel the warmth of his body against her knuckles.

Okay, what are you going to do now you idiot? Jyn asked herself, but she realized she’d done the one thing a good soldier should never do. Walked into battle without a plan or even an exit strategy.

“Jyn, what’s wrong?” Cassian asked softly, his breath stirring the hair on her forehead.

She couldn’t bring herself to tear her eyes away from her hand at his chest, but she sensed him looking down at her, waiting for an answer. He would’ve been able to be eye-to-eye with blondie, a small voice inside Jyn prodded, and panic flashed through her. What am I doing? I’m going to mess everything up!

“Hey,” Cassian’s finger came under her chin, tilting it gently upwards.

Even in the dim, gray light of the closet she could see the concern in his eyes, the confusion lending a slight furrow to his brow. The care. He cared about her. Did he know that was mutual? That she would always be checking to make sure he was alright, that she would do anything to keep him safe.

“I wanted to…” to tell you that I have feelings for you. To… She met his eyes and they steadied her, made the world feel right again.

She lifted herself onto her toes, pulled him towards her, and planted a firm kiss on his lips before she could lose her courage again, then she shoved him away, releasing the front of his shirt at last, letting her hands fall away and putting as much space between them as possible considering they were in a supply closet.

Cassian stared at her, frozen and breathless, “What are you doing?”

Jyn felt her heart fall through her stomach to the floor, probably hurtling past that to the core of the planet. Her eyes shot to her feet in shame. She knew that was a mistake, what had she been thinking? She was never going to touch a drop of alcohol again…

Suddenly Cassian’s hands were on either side of her face, his thumbs against her cheeks. Before she fully knew what was happening his lips were on hers again, warm and eager. He held her head in place with an unexpected desperation, unwilling to let her pull away again.

But pulling away was the last thing Jyn wanted to do. She reached to run her fingers across his shoulders, pressing into the muscle in a way that earned her a low moan against her mouth, sending a shiver down her spine and a rush of warmth to her stomach.

Her hands wandered upwards to tangle in his hair. His arms wrapped around her and Jyn stumbled backwards, hitting the supply shelf and sending packets of meds and rations flying to the floor.

Neither of them seemed to notice.

The world was gone and all that existed was his touch, the press of his body against hers, the scratch of his beard on her skin, the warmth of his lips and the bruising force with which they met hers.

When they finally came up for air, Jyn felt as though every part of her were vibrating. Cassian pressed his forehead to hers, and for a moment all that could be heard was their own ragged breathing and the echo of their heartbeats pounding in their ears.

“I was beginning to think that was never going to happen,” Cassian gasped, lifting his eyes to hers with a small, almost-shy smile that lit embers in Jyn’s core.

She shook her head against his. “That girl tonight, I thought…”

Cassian laughed and Jyn could feel his stomach shaking with the sound. “Are you serious?”

Jyn frowned indignantly. “Yes! I don’t see what’s so funny here.” She squirmed, but he just tightened his hold at her waist.

“I saw Bodhi try to make a move on you.”

“You’re a fool,” Jyn shoved against his forehead. “We were talking about-.”

He cut off her words with a deep, lasting kiss that swept every thought from Jyn’s mind with a wave of pleasure. “Can we just agree this should’ve happened a long time ago?” he sighed when they broke away.

“Agree?” she hummed in consideration. “Doesn’t sound like us.”

Cassian groaned, but when she ran her hand across his cheek he leaned naturally into her palm, closing his eyes in content.

“Can we agree to keep doing this?” Jyn whispered.

Cassian opened his eyes, drinking her in like a man who had been waiting a lifetime just to see her face. “I’m not about to waste anymore time,” he murmured, leaning forward to capture her lips with his own again.

They never did return to the party.

But Jyn thought it was the warmest a winter's night had ever seemed.

#rebelcaptain #rebelcaptain fic #rebelcaptain fanfic #rogue one #jyn erso #cassian andor #bodhi rook #jyn x cassian #b writes #first kiss #happy holidays idk how it is december but here we are

117 notes · View notes