#Maybe I will rewrite this tomorrow when I feel like a person again

[ghostsanndstuff]

So. I rewatched the second Narnia movie today. And that is one of the stories I absolutely cannot think about too much because it makes me feel feral.

The books were the first ones I was absolutely obsessed with as a kid. I have always loved and coped via daydreams and escapism (and definitely went way too far with that for a few years there during teenagehood) and it was always the Narnia chronicles about which I felt a particular way. But it took rewatching it a few times now that I'm a bit older to see why.

Somewhere between 11 year old me wanting to be there instead of here so badly it physically hurt and the scene in the last book where everyone except for Susan chooses to end their lives in our world to return to Narnia forever.

Somewhere between there and being raised catholic while Aslan and Narnia are C.S. Lewis' metaphor for God and Heaven and talking to my mom sobbing on the phone for the 5th day in a row as she tells me that whenever she has felt utterly hopeless and like there was no way forward she would take all the pressure and all that she was and put her life, put herself entirely in the hands of god, and how it felt like someone was squeezing every last bit of air out of my lungs as I desperately wished to fullheartetly have faith in something like that for even a moment.

Somewhere in between the way I see myself in Lucy and the way I fully understand Susan I'm going insane.

[pedge-stuff]

God I just thought about an idea for pedro and reader, reading your last post...

They are in a relationship and live together. The reader is also an actress. She asks pedro to practice her lines with her. In the play, she is having a really long line, breaking up with the person ans leaving them... pedro can't continue... at night in bed they are cuddling and pedro talks about how he hated the feeling or the thought of the reader ever leaving

(changed this slightly, hope that is OK...)

bad acting (pedro pascal x gn/m!reader)

a/n: same vague universe as “marked,“ per usual.

thanks, as always, for everything.

(also I did that thing where I didn't save this on drafts fast enough and the whole fucking thing deleted so you could say im LIVID sorry if this rewrite felt rushed.)

summary: things get a little... too real.

—————————————————————————

"You can't laugh."

"I'm not gonna laugh!"

Pedro hands you his iPad, script loaded on the screen. "I'm serious," you warn him, "you had to stop last time, the acting was so bad."

"Just read the sides, baby."

You know he isn't nervous about the audition— if he was, he sure as shit wouldn't be practicing with you. Those rehearsals are reserved for his coach, or someone who can actually talk him through the scene. This was just a formality, a quick read-through for some anthological TV show about people in failing marriages. Season 2 of Oscar's old Amazon thing. With the audition being on Zoom tomorrow, the whole process feels fairly relaxed.

"Should I read it in a lady voice? Will that set the scene?"

"Please don't."

"Scottish accent?"

"Babe."

"Hmm." You clear your throat loudly, for dramatic effect. Across the room, feet propped on the desk, Pedro rolls his eyes. He's got his cheaters on, but no script— the audition's supposed to be off-book. "From the first page?"

"You're stalling."

"Ugh. Ok. Here we go." Leaning forward, you scroll to the highlighted text on the iPad. "Stop, David. You don't know what you're talking about."

Pedro's posture straightens; ever the professional, it's like watching a switch flip. The humored lines beside his eyes, little crows feet that crinkle when he looks at you, disappear completely. His brow furrows, gaze darkens.

"Of course I do, dammit. I'm done with this, all of this. It's like living in a mausoleum, Emma. I'd rather. Do you remember what love even feels like? Because I look at you, and I just... don't, anymore."

"You don't mean that."

"I do! I'm so tired of this. Life with you is joyless. Every day, I come home from work and just sit in the goddamn driveway because I don't want to come in the house. It's hard to be in the same room as you. I can't bring her back, Emma, and I miss her and I'm sorry she's dead. But it isn't my fucking fault and I wish you'd stop pretending it was."

His voice cracks, just a little. You frown as he grabs the glass of water beside him, pausing to wait, but he motions for you to continue.

"That's cruel," you read, "and you know it. That's not fair."

"None of this is fair!" Pedro exclaims. "That's the whole point. It's not fair that our daughter is dead while the girl who was driving got to walk away clean. Life isn't fucking fair. But it's life. And you've sucked all the light out of mine. I can't stand you, anymore, I'm sorry. I just can't. It's not that we can't make it work, it's that I don't want to make it work. If I never see you again, it'll be too soon. Jesus christ, I hate every part of this."

"Are you done? Have you gotten it all off your chest?"

"Don't placate me! This isn't one of your stupid therapy sessions, Emma, you can't fix this with a breathing worksheet and a roleplaying exercise. Be fucking serious. Every day I wake up and I wish I'd never met you. At least then, she wouldn't be dead, because she'd never have existed. And maybe I'd known some goddamn peace."

The page ends there, and you glance up. Pedro has his head in his hands, eyes closed.

"That was good," you offer tentatively, searching for some kind of sign as to what his next move is. He's gracious about work stuff, but you're always a little afraid of mucking up his process.

When he looks up, his eyes are glossy. "Yeah," Pedro says, croakily, clearing his throat quietly before rising from the chair. He takes the iPad back, wordlessly, shuttering the case over the screen.

"Wanna do it again? You were spot-on, Pedge, but we can go over it again if you want to."

"No," he says quickly. "No, I'm good. I'm fine. It's on Zoom, it'll be easy. I'm fine."

Weird. Just a little. Before you can dwell on his sudden cageyness, he's up, headed for the door.

"I'm gonna walk the dogs. We can catch up on Bake-Off, when I get back?"

Pedro leaves before you can answer.

— — — 

No sooner have the leashes been hung back by the door, than Pedro is beside you on the couch, all hands and light touches. It's as if he can't bear to lost contact. You allow him to reposition you, reaching a hand around your waist as you reach for the remote.

"Good walk?"

He hums, tugging you against him. Settles, finally, once you're half-reclined, back against his chest, arm around your middle. You fiddle with the edge of his sleeve as the bakers fumble their way through the signature challenge.

It's not that the clinginess bothers you— he's like this sometimes, when he's just returned home, or you've arrived in LA, or met somewhere in the middle. Every separation leaves him want for touch. It's the one thing you can't give him, while you're apart.

But he's been home a couple weeks now, in between reshoots for a new project. Been home all day, in fact, in an orbit around you while you attempted to work from home. (A little too close, frankly, but you can't really complain.)

"You okay?" You whisper, as the timer runs down on the technical bake.

No answer. Just a tightened grip on your waist, and a firm kiss to the top of your head.

— — — 

It isn't until later, in bed and half-asleep, that you pinpoint the source of the tension.

You'd have thought he was already asleep, save for the soft carding of his fingers through the baby hairs at the nape of your neck. Deep, even breaths tickle your forehead; he's curled around you, arm draped over your back. Had positioned himself this way silently, looking a little silly brooding in his Muppet-patterned pj pants.

"We're never reading lines again," Pedro whispers into the darkness.

"Was the acting that bad?"

Your attempt for levity falls flat. He is quiet, long enough for you roll backwards slightly, to get a better look at his face. A deep-set frown has taken root.

"No, it..." He tugs you closer again, tucking your head beneath his chin. If he weren't so sad, you'd call uncle for claustrophobia; your nose is squished into his jugular. But you lay still, waiting for him to continue.

"It felt too real," Pedro concedes. He inhales sharply, and you can feel it against your own chest.

The kiss you press to the hollow of his throat, doesn't feel good enough. You wiggle, tilting your head to press one against his toothpaste-tasting lips. Whiskers tickle the corner of your mouth.

"Baby, I know you were... pretending." A thin line between placating him and treading on his professionalism. "If our pretend daughter died in a car crash, I know you wouldn't divorce me for being too sad."

"It's not funny." With a groan, he kisses you again, resting his forehead against yours. "I hated saying that stuff to you. Felt too real."

The bone-crushing spooning is making a little more sense, now.

"I love you, but you're a sap."

"Hmph."

You smile into the next kiss. "A very sweet sap, though."

[kallistersbullshit]

@pillowspace here take a thingy *slams down on table and scurries away*

(this is technically my first 2nd person/reader fic, so uhh hopefully it’s not too bad):

You’ve been running yourself ragged with your daycare duties lately. It’s the… seventh loop? Maybe. You’re not sure. All you know is that you’re getting nowhere in your search for the cause of the time loops, spending your nights sleeplessly jotting ideas down in your notebook - though you know you’ll have to rewrite everything next time.

You don’t know how much longer you can take it.

“Y/N? Are you alright?”

You flinch hard, snapping your head up from where it laid on the desk. Above you towers Sun, patiently waiting for an answer behind the computer, fidgeting anxiously with the ribbons on his wrists.

“Me? Oh! Oh yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

Sun deflates a bit. “You don’t… seem fine. Normally you leave by now but you’ve had your head down for quite a while. Did you get enough sleep last night?” “Isn’t that Moon’s catchphrase?” you ask, cocking your head.

“You make it hard to resist,” he replied, chuckling nervously.

“Well I did, so again, no reason to worry. I’ll be out of your… er, rays in no time.” Sun flinches, holding his hands out to shake them in denial. “Nonono! I’m not trying to get rid of you, promise! I’m just worried - me and Moon both!”

He leans over the desk to get a better look at you - horrible bags under your eyes, shirt buttoned incorrectly, and a disgruntled, slightly annoyed expression on your face. You quickly change it to a smile, shaking your head.

“I’m telling you it’s fine, Sun. And you’re right - I should probably get going now. See you tomorrow.”

“S-See you tomorrow…”

You smile more genuinely and stand up to grab your bag from the side desk, slinging it over your shoulder and signing off of the computer before walking over to the large double-doors. You place your hand on the handles just as you feel a light touch on your arm - a cold, hard touch.

Like metal.

You jerk away immediately, wildly swinging your bag around to hit your attacker directly in the neck, knocking his head loose and sending his faceplate spinning wildly. The sound of your feet pounding against the ground fills your ears as you follow your escape route as fast as you can. He'll take a bit of time - though not much - to connect to the wire, so the second-floor exit should work best.

You’re halfway up the staircase when you come to an abrupt stop, glancing up frantically at the bright lights illuminating your path. You whip your head around to see Sun sprawled out on the ground, his rays still spinning from the impact, his eyes already dim.

Your breath hitches. You practically leap down the stairs to rush to his side, kneeling at his side to inspect his faceplate. You can hear your heart pounding heavily as you carefully turn his head from side to side. As expected: the collision had ripped multiple wires and loosened the screws at the base of his neck. It was an easy fix, but it would leave the attendant immobilized for a while.

You stand up, stumbling over to the computers. You quickly log back in to file a report to Parts & Services, describing the wreckage in a brief summary before immediately logging back out. Stepping carefully over Sun’s body, you approach the double doors, where you left your bag. You pick it up, turning to glance back at your fallen friend. Your hands are still shaking - your breath hasn’t entirely calmed down yet.

You hurry out of the daycare, still listening to the pounding of your heart and the anxious taps of your feet on the floor.

Hopefully you'll catch yourself from hurting them next time.

[666writingcafe]

So, tomorrow is my birthday, and I'm trying really hard to calm my anxiety about the US Presidential Election, so I've picked a prompt from my Fall Menu and I'm gonna write it for myself. At least for a little while, it should distract me from the impending sense of doom I'm currently feeling.

Order #11

“I’ll be honest: I get off to the thought of you.” Lucifer x GN!MC

It started with a bottle of Demonus and a writing assignment.

This semester, I'm taking a theater class to improve my acting skills for RAD's Improv Club. I've done okay so far, but I've been told multiple times that I have a stick up my ass and need to relax. Maybe not in those exact words, but I'm pretty good at reading between the lines.

I suppose in this way, my pride is a detriment to my performance. I'm afraid of looking stupid in front of other people, especially when they're much more knowledgeable about a subject than I am. I feel rather nervous whenever I'm standing in front of the class, reading lines out loud. If I mess up, I feel like they'd all start mocking me. Word would spread across campus about how the Avatar of Pride isn't good at something, and everyone would stop taking me seriously.

Insecurity is a bitch sometimes.

Tonight's assignment is to write a monologue that starts with the line, I'll be honest: I get off to the thought of you. The professor will read through all of them and select a couple that he wants read out loud in class. Of course, being the prideful and competitive man I am, I want to be among that group. It would be nice to excel at this and essentially prove everyone wrong.

That's where the Demonus comes in.

I honestly tried my best to attack this sober, but the only thing I've successfully written in the past hour is the prompt itself. Nothing else has looked or sounded right. I figured the wine would help calm my frustration and somehow inspire me.

Two glasses should do it, at least as a start.

A gentle knock on the door interrupts me as soon as I've finished pouring glass number one. There's only one person in this entire House that has the decency to knock quietly.

"Come in," I call out, taking a sip of Demonus. The door slowly creaks open and closed as they enter the room.

"I brought you dinner." A plate soon gets set on a clean spot on my desk, away from any paperwork. "I figured you were in for a busy night when you rushed in here as soon as we returned from class, and I didn't want you to go hungry."

"Thanks." I quickly glance up at MC to acknowledge their presence before returning to the assignment at hand. However, I inadvertently meet their gaze, and I'm suddenly unable to look away.

Perhaps it's the lighting that makes them alluring in a t-shirt and sweatpants, or maybe I accidentally grabbed a stronger bottle than usual when I was at the store. In any case, seeing them causes ideas to begin pour into my head.

"Do you need to do anything else this evening?" I ask, my voice sounding oddly desperate.

"Not necessarily," they answer. "I mean, I was wanting to get a jump start on a project, but it can wait until tomorrow."

"Good. Would you mind taking a seat? I need you for something."

"Of course. What do you need me to do?"

"Just be here with me. I'll explain once I'm done writing." MC dutifully sits in one of the chairs across from me and pulls out their DDD as I begin scribbling furiously in my notebook. I can always rewrite this to look neater later, but if I don't get these ideas out of my head now, I'm afraid they're not going to appear again, and I really need to prove a point.

I can be vulnerable. I just need to be around the right person in order for that to happen, and if I can channel that into this monologue, then surely I'll get chosen to read it out loud, right?

~~~

"There. All done."

"I'm pleasantly surprised, Lucifer. You've managed to finish before I began nodding off." I playfully glare at MC, who reacts by sticking their tongue out at me.

Fuck, they're adorable.

I briefly explain the assignment to them, and they're astute enough to know that I want to read what I've written to them. Mostly so that they can help me edit, but this little exercise ended up morphing into a confession of sorts.

They need to hear these words come out of my mouth exactly as I've written them.

"Whenever you're ready, I'm all ears," they tell me. Clearing my throat, I begin reciting my monologue.

I'll be honest, I get off to the thought of you. Your smile, your scent, your sense of humor...everything about you turns me on. You have me wrapped around your finger in a way that no one else has before. I want to please you, and I'll do anything for your approval. Just the thought of you makes my heart skip a beat, and my pulse quicken. I want you more than words can describe. So, let me show you just how much I adore you. I'll do whatever you say, be whatever you want me to be, and give you all the pleasure in the world. Just the thought of holding you in my arms is enough to drive me wild. I crave you.

I want to feel your lips pressed against mine. To feel your warm breath against my skin. To hear the sound of your voice as you whisper sweet nothings into my ear. To touch every inch of your body and memorize every curve. To be yours, and for you to be mine. I want to hear the sound of your voice as you moan my name. To know that it's me making you experience true ecstasy would make me the happiest man in the world.

I love you, body and soul. Just let me prove it to you. I promise you won't regret it.

Looking up from my notebook reveals a blushing MC fiddling with the hem of their shirt.

"That was well-done," they mumble. "I'm sure you'll get high marks." They momentarily pause, swallowing nervously. "Can I ask you something?"

I nod my head, closing the notebook so they have my undivided attention.

"Did you have any other plans this evening?" They sound fearful. Are they afraid I'll reject their request?

"None that don't involve you." They initially open their mouth to respond, but quickly close it as my words fully register in their head.

"I see." Another swallow. "I haven't exactly been in this position before. Usually I'm the one submitting to other people. Are you sure you want me to do this?" I walk around my desk and stand in front of them, reaching down to touch the side of their face.

"My dear, silly little lamb, I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. Besides, most of the hard work has been done already. All you have to do is give me an order. You don't even have to use the pact to get me to obey. I'll do whatever you say."

"Within reason?" I chuckle.

"I trust your judgement." MC closes their eyes and takes a deep breath.

"I want you in my bed. I know it's much smaller than yours, but--"

"Done. What else?" My interruption catches them off guard.

"Well...um..."

"Breathe." After MC takes another moment to compose themselves, they whisper,

"I wanna ride you."

Taglist: @lost-in-time-wanderer, @fuzztacular, @dianedancer18, @sweetbrier2908, @flare-love, @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf, @thunderlightning351, @l3v1chan, @anxious-chick, @5mary5, @expressionless-fr, @tenkobitch, @budbuddnbuddy

[kimtaesss]

Summary: your ex boyfriend from 2 years ago has returned. Despite wanting to avoid him at all cost it’s impossible when you both share the same friend group. To make things worse, he has come back with a girlfriend.

Pairing: Taehyung x reader ; Yoongi x reader

Genre: angst, fluff, exes to (?), exes au

Warnings: starting with a flashback (again 😭); honestly this chapter is mostly flashbacks of how their relationship was before; y/n being a simp for Taehyung and Taehyung only; y/n is just a sad bitch tbh; a bit of Jimin’s and Yoongi’s perspective and yeah! Oh! Just a little fyi some phrase are repetitive cause they kind of share the same brain 🙄. Mini reunion between Taehyung and y/n at the end of the chapter ( but not really). Next chapter you’ll see the reunion of y/n and Taehyung!

Authors note: honestly I’m not really satisfied but I am? Let me know if I should rewrite this chapter tbh 😭 Also its 6 in the morning so if there’s some typos let’s just ignore that. I’m pretty sure I got them all though so fingers crossed.

Chapters: m.list | 01 | 02 | …..

"I-I don't think I can make it across" You yell as you pay attention to the ground. You're too scared to pay attention to anything else, even the voice of your boyfriend.

You've always been a homebody, you hated being outside, and being adventurous. Well, you didn't have that growing up, so you guess that added onto your lack of courage. And maybe deep down you wanted to try new things, but again, you had no one to share that with.

But Taehyung, your boyfriend, is trying to stop that cycle. He wants you explore the world, and not just with anyone, with him.

"It's okay! I got you" Taehyung yells back but with a more soft tone. He wants you to feel comfortable enough to take a risk. But he also needed you to hear him. He wants to make sure you know that he's got you, no matter what.

"No! You just- you go ahead and have fun. I can just stay back and wait for you" You move your hands all over the place, almost like you're shaking off water. And that was a dumb mistake, as you clumsily began to lose control.

You were standing on top of a rock, and you're not exactly the lightest human being. You're also not very coordinated, so you tend to fall a lot. But Taehyung still managed to convince you to do this, you're still not even sure what this is.

You trust Taehyung. Just as much as you love him. So, you didn't think you'd be feeling scared to the point where you feel dizzy. But here you are, feeling exactly that.

He never did respond to you. Technically, you did tell him to leave so you shouldn't feel mad or disappointed. But, you guess deep down you wanted him to fight for you.

Yup! You're being dramatic again. You definitely need to grow the fuck up.

"Ahhh" you scream as you kick your legs, and move your arms like some crazy person. You felt arms on your waist, and you could have sworn that you were about to get kidnap.

That was until you heard that deep voice, with an adorable laugh. Immediately you felt as ease. He didn't leave you. He didn't.

"You came back!"

"I never left. I'd never leave you"

Those words. It made you feel seen. It made you feel important. You almost wanted to cry, knowing that you have someone who is willing to put with you. It sounds silly, and you know it. But sometimes it's nice to know you're needed or wanted.

That day ended up with you both falling into the water. Well, actually Taehyung pushed you to fall on your own, but you dragged him down with you.

"I'm so going to be sick tomorrow" you laugh as you continue to splash water and throw some towards Taehyung.

"It's okay! That just means that I can cuddle you all night, and never leave your side"

"Gosh. You're so clingy sometimes" You say, even though you love when he acts clingy. It just means he’s not tired of you yet.

He laughs and carries the biggest smile you've ever seen on anyone. The way his eyes were shining, and staring directly at yours. Your heart beat kept rising, you could literally feel your heart beat out your chest. You were head over heels for Taehyung. You were happy knowing that you had found the person you want to spend the rest of your life with.

"I am. I really am"

You continued to stay in the water for hours, just laughing and playing silly little games. He had brought back the happiness you were so desperately were trying to find.

You were beginning to realize how life is so beautiful when you share it with someone.

Who knew dreams can turn into nightmares?

"Hey, y/n. It's me Taehyung"

Did you hear that correctly? Was your ex-boyfriend really on the phone? It didn't make sense, like at all. Still in shock, the phone slid down your hands, and fell onto the ground. You were in complete shock. This was most definitely not something you had planned happening. You're almost one hundred percent sure, that Taehyung also didn't have this planned.

"Hello? Y/n?!"

Taehyung tried to yell loud enough for you to hear him. He knew that the phone had slipped out of your hands, well because you were quite predictable when it came to reactions. But the yelling couldn't knock you back to your senses. Maybe it was the fact that this did not feel real, this felt more like a dream.

However, it was a dream you wanted to wake out of. This wasn't what you wanted nor needed right now. You were about to go outside and have your friends either hype you up, or maybe make some dumb comment that made you laugh. Either way, you'd take it. But now things took a drastic turn. Your hear a knock on the door, and shivers ran down your back. Immediately, you regained yourself, well sort of. You technically were now more aware of your surroundings, but your mind still felt foggy, and shaky.

"Are you going to show us the dress or not?! I can't promise I'll be nice, but I promise to tell you the truth!" The whine in his voice, yup! It's Jimin. Even though, you technically regained your senses, your mouth felt like it was glued shut. You couldn't let a single word slip out of your mouth.

"Okay! You leave me no choice but to come in there and see you butt naked! Is that what you want?"

Still no reply from you. You were once again in a frozen state, and all the effort to escape this mess was undone. You hear a loud noise, and you instantly knew that Jimin was in fact trying to break in. He didn't know about your current situation, but why was the idea of having him in the room with you making you more nervous? Is it because things could end horrible, and the whole birthday dinner would be ruined or... could it be something else? You just didn't know.

"Dude..what are you doing?" A new voice appeared and you could really differentiate who was who. Your mind was still stuck on the voice that you heard a couple of minutes ago. His beautiful deep voice, you missed it. You missed him.

"Trying to open the door. Duh?" Jimin was questioning Yoongi, rather than actually making a comment. He had that sarcastic tone, like he was answering a dumb child.

Usually you'd laugh to that. Or at least crack a small smile, but it seems like the things that are suppose to make you happy, only make you more sad.

"Why don't you just use the key?" Yoongi spewed back. He was also carrying that sarcasm with him. You just knew they were going to argue about this for days. These two, as much as they loved each-other, they are too petty at times.

At times it feels like Yoongi and Jimin are the exact same person. The only difference was, Jimin had no boundaries and Yoongi at least attempts to be respectful. Although he also has his few bad moments, and ideas.

"There's a key?" A smack was heard and that again brought you closer to your senses but not completely. Why did he say your name like that? And why couldn't you stop thinking about it? You wanted to do nothing but cry. For days, weeks, months or fuck it, years. You wanted to release the very few emotions you've tried to hold back.

"Y/n! Please help! Yoongi just hit me in the back of the head" Jimin continued to plead for your help.

"Yeah, well maybe stop being a dumbass and you won't be smacked" Yoongi's hot breathe, and extreme close proximity to Jimin's ear, lead to Jimin's outburst.

"Snitch" Jimin attempted, again, the key word was attempted to whisper. But if you heard it and there was a door in between you. Then, Yoongi was already planning Jimin's funeral.

You know. You know you're being ridiculous. You're 23 years old, and you're locked up in your room, crying for an ex boyfriend. And it hits you even more knowing that Taehyung hasn't cried for you, or had break downs while he was working like you.

You know that no matter how you're feeling, Taehyung was happy. He beat you. It's not like it was ever a competition, but you know that feeling when you see your ex boyfriend move on, and he seems to be doing better in life than you? It's almost like you were never needed, and instead you were setting him back.

You make yourself believe that you were the problem, even if you weren't. Of course, you had your moments, but who knows. Maybe, you're making yourself a saint, and were actually the reason behind the break up.

God. Some days, you just want to climb onto the highest mountains and just jump right off them. You doubt the pain would ever amount to the one you're currently feeling.

No. You need to get your shit together, and snap out of it. He has moved on, so it shouldn't be hard for you to do the same. But it's just a bit harder when you weren't the one who gave up, the distance never took away the love you had for him. It only increased it.

No. You shake your head, as you try to shake off those thoughts that keep haunting you. It's time to focus on your present self, and the dress that is attempting to cover your flaws. As it turns out the first time you "figured it out" , you had your dress inside out. Luckily there was no one with you, because that was truly just a brain fart moment.

"I-I'm going. I just need to figure out the straps" your voice was a little too squeaky. It was making your entire body cringe. And you hate it. You hate that your voice was tiny; you hate that you're acting like a child when they don't get what they want.

Even when you attempt to fix the straps on the dress, you're moving like a sloth. But you manage to do it, and you couldn't be more sad. It's just... it's too hard for you to act like everything was fine.

See, Taehyung was your go to person. He was the first person that made you feel comfortable in your body. He was the first person who would go out of his way, and drop you off food at work. He was the first person who could read your mind. He knew you. He exposed you to things you've always wanted but never had the guts to try on your own.

And trying on a dress was one of them. You never enjoyed putting on tight clothes. Not unless you were around Taehyung. It's not like you depended on him for a lot of things, and you probably sound like some desperate women who always need a man’s approval. And you don't and aren't.

But Taehyung let you take your time, and never pushed you to do or be someone you aren't. He would always reassure you, take pictures of you, and made sure you are able to appreciate yourself in them.

"Bitch you're slow as fuck! Hurry up!" Jimin's throwing a tantrum again. You hear the stomping and the knocking on the door, and it managed to crack a little smile on your face.

You walked towards the door, not even caring to take a look in the mirror again. Of course, you were afraid of breaking down, because let's face it you were an insecure person. It hit you even more, knowing that Taehyung was going to see you in this very dress.

Your hand grabs the door knob and twists it a little before you actually open the door. You take a deep breathe before you eventually open the door, and let your two stupid friends walk in.

The looks on their faces, made you feel some type of way. You weren't sure if you should be more insecure or if you should be over the moon. It definitely made you more self aware.

"Is it that bad? Or do I look bad?" You're roaming your hands all over your body, almost like you're fixing it up. Even though it's clearly ironed and nothing needs to be adjusted. You're just a nervous mess right now. They're too quiet.

"Oh. My. God. Let's fuck!" Jimin said that with no hesitation. It made you choke the very air, you depended on to live. Your throat was becoming dry, as you continue to cough.

"That's- I was not excepting that comment." You're not sure if you should take that compliment too serious. Well, you know that you and Jimin will never fuck. He just likes to play a lot. But still, you guess you meant if you were even attractive enough to do you know…that.

"Dude! You are so going to make Taehyung's girl jealous" Jimin let's just about anything slip out of his mouth. He even allowed Yoongi to punch him. Not that Yoongi ever needed permission, but he sure did not put up a fight.

"Do you ever just think before you speak? This isn't about Taehyung or his girl. This is about y/n! Which by the way, you look... gorgeous."

"Thanks Yoongi. It really means a lot" You sway your body, as you took in that compliment. Yoongi does compliment you, but it's on rare occasions. And usually you have to ask him, but today, he took the initiative. So you guess, you guess you look decent.

"I'm sorry y/n. I know you are your own person. I just- I didn't think. You look amazing, really! I mean I'd marry you, you know... if I was into you."

Yoongi gives Jimin a "what the fuck" look. But you just end up snorting and laughing like a maniac. Now, they are both giving you a "what the fuck" look.

Now there's tears streaming down your face. You were sad, but those tears weren't sad tears. They were more like, you're grateful to have two friends, who despite being idiots. Are always supporting you, and making sure you feel somewhat comfortable.

"I'm so sorry! Did I make you cry?" Jimin's panic mode, looks like a mother losing a child in a store. It's just hilarious seeing him all stressed out and worried.

"Nice going, dick head" Yoongi says as he rolls his eyes. He was so over Jimin and his stupid comments. He really just wanted to slap tape on his mouth and hope that would shut him up.

"At least I get head"

But Jimin just continued.

"Oh gosh. I'm leaving this conversation"  You continue snorting as you walk to the kitchen. You needed a drink or maybe some pills to calm the arising headache you're getting from being in their presence.

"Can you bring back wine, while you're at it" Jimin shouts, as if your apartment wasn't small and had thin walls. He holds a mischievous smile, and you are shivering from the very thought of it. Jimin when he's drunk, is not the best influence.

And you drunk? Well... you're definitely a follower.

You just hope you can wake up for work tomorrow. Or you guess today. You needed a distraction before the stupid birthday dinner. Well, it's not actually stupid. Taehyung is.

Taehyung. How you wish you could turn back time.

Jimin ended up passing out after only one glass of wine. He probably had some earlier, he usually lasted longer than that. As for Yoongi? He was taking pictures of you, and attempting to guide you.

"I think it might be better if you... I don't know, put your leg forward? That's hot. Right?"

"I don't know" you shrug to emphasize your confusion. "You're supposed to tell me that" you laugh, as you see him constantly squint and attempt to find your angle. He is trying his best, and that's all you could ever really ask of him.

You continue to move around, or pose in a way, that doesn't look like you have back problems. Or shows just how poorly you can walk in heels, and apparently standing in heels is also a huge struggle for you.

You almost want to give up. In fact, you should. You know that keeping those photos in your camera roll, will be for no reason. You'll never have the courage to truly admire the details, without having something bad to say about them. And if by chance, you happen to look through your camera roll, you'll wake up with puffy eyes and stuffy nose.

"I mean... you look good" Yoongi hesitated for a while to make a comment, which lead him to stutter. You can see the instant regret and embarrassment all over his face. He even curses under his breathe, clearly ready to leave out the very door he snuck into earlier.

"Thanks" You simply reply, as a small smile plasters on your face. It felt forced but at the same time, you know you wanted to smile. He seemed... somewhat genuine about it. Still, his effort definitely lighten your mood.

"Anyway, I should...probably go" he points behind to Jimin and then the door. "He's drunk and I have work tomorrow. Or I guess today?" He freezes realizing how bad he fucked up. Yoongi takes a while to fall asleep, and now looking at the clock, he knows he'll end up showing up to work, without any sleep. He sighs as if had been holding his breathe in for a couple of hours. He's dreading leaving, knowing that he'll have to leave straight to work.

You understand that in so many ways. In fact, you're debating yourself if you should call out of work. It's not for any particular reason. Okay, you're lying again. It's the pain and shame in showing up in a place, that held so many memories.

Taehyung always felt like you're other half. Literally and figuratively. He was always with you, whether that be in mind or standing right beside you. He would always go with you to work and pick you up, just so you don't encounter some creep. Taehyung was half of your heart. He shared this bond with you, that at times it felt like you were seeing your exact reflection.

But when he left. In a way, he left with your heart and identity. You had no idea who you were without him. Maybe, that's why you decided to not reply back to him on the phone. You were unsure of how to respond to him, without remembering all those memories and words that were floating around your heart. You're afraid of admitting that the man you were talking to, or ignoring was not your Taehyung. It was just a different version of a man you used to or…still love.

God. How did you go from work to missing Taehyung? Your mind sure likes to play games with you. Yoongi is the one standing in front of you. Showing you just how much he cares. You should have the decency of keeping him in your thoughts rather than Taehyung, who is no where around.

"Thank you" You blurt out of nowhere. You kind of scared yourself, to be honest. You weren’t exactly sure where that came from.

Yoongi placed Jimin over his shoulders, grunting as he attempts to keep a good hold on him. But once he hears your voice again, knowing you were deep in thought, he turns around. Or attempts to have a better view of you, just as you of him.

"Don't. Thank Jimin, it was all his idea"

"I will. But I'm thanking you right now"

"Why?" Yoongi questions, clearly taken a back by your hard stance on thanking him.

"You made me forget about him. You made me think of me. I didn't think that was possible, even if it was just for a spilt second"

"You're an amazing person, you should think of yourself more often. Plus, it was you who made it possible"

"What?" You snort as you lean onto the wall behind you. "How? How did I make it possible?" You question him as if there was no possible answer to your question. Deep down you felt like there wasn't.

But he sure finds ways to surprise you. It made you feel all giddy inside, knowing that you still had someone who went above and beyond to make you feel like a little kid again. He made you feel... well, you're not sure if you can accurately describe it. But it sure felt nice.

"It's just easy to compliment and make someone feel special when they already are" he turns back around, as your eyebrows furrow. You were trying to take in his words, and the meaning behind them. It felt like he sprinkled your open wounds, with fairy dust. And the wounds were slowly closing.

He gives you one final look back. "Good night y/n"

"Good night" you whisper as the door slammed closed.

Instantly your body was sliding down the wall. As your brain was rebooting itself, and your tears were streaming down your face. You could feel everything and nothing all at once.

You're special? Like you?

Maybe just to him. Maybe he was just being a good friend, and managed to say the right words. Even when the right words felt wrong, especially the way it took your breathe away.

You stare in front of you. You stare at the broken glass that was left from earlier or yesterday. The glass that was holding up, the picture of you and your supposed soulmate.

And just like the glass, you were scattered on the floor. You were fragile enough to break with one sentence. You were broken enough to understand that no matter how much love and praise you get from others, you'd flip everything, and rain on your own parade. You loved yourself enough to hear those praises, but hated yourself to the point of turning those praises into pain.

Because if you were so damn special you wouldn't be in the place you were in. And he wouldn't be in the arms of someone else.

Even if he called you. Even if he contacted you first. You were always going to be his second option.

He managed to move on. without you.

"Jimin wake up" Yoongi rocks Jimin's lifeless body, well it felt that way anyways. Jimin was passed out. He's not even sure how he managed to do that, especially after only one damn drink.

"Mmm later" Jimin managed to slip out of his mouth, but it still sounded a bit slurred. Thankfully, Yoongi can speak hung over Jimin.

But just like Yoongi can understand Jimin, he knew the only way Jimin would wake up is if someone threw cold water to his face. Well, that or a slap. And because it was Jin's birthday dinner today, Jimin could not have any marks on his face.

Unfortunately.

After a couple of buckets of water thrown at Jimin's face, Jimin managed to wake up. A little bit too much for Yoongi's liking, seeing as Jimin can not shut up.

"I just know it's going to be super awkward, and I'm going to bust out laughing because of it. Like it's already weird enough that's Taehyung is going, but he had to bring some girl he just started dating. Like does he even think of y/n and her feelings like-"

"If you say like one more time, I'm going to strangle you to death" Yoongi interrupted as his head was starting to hurt from Jimin's constant blabbering. He knew that he had good intentions, but it's 10 in the morning, and honestly speaking, just the idea of seeing Taehyung is making him annoyed.

He's also a bit disappointed. He used to be close to Taehyung, but then he had to pull this little stunt.

He still remembers how Y/n had been knocking at his door at 3 in the morning. Her mascara was splattered all over her face. Her eyes were black, almost like she had been in a boxing match and lost, bad. The way her hair was sticking out, and clinging onto the corners of her face from her constant crying.

She looked so out of it. It hurt. It hurt to know that he couldn't protect her, even if he couldn't do anything to prevent her from feeling that heartache.

And the worst part was that Taehyung went mute when it came to explaining why he dumped her.

"Hello?! Are you even listening to me? God. I need a new fucking roommate, I'm amazing to talk to" Jimin didn't pay attention to Yoongi, and the way his face immediately changed.

"Sorry. What did you say?" Yoongi didn't even recognize himself. His tone, his voice. He felt and sounded so weak.

"Dude. Did you just apologize to me?" He points to himself as he stares behind him, in case he missed someone's presence.

This only annoyed Yoongi. He was always annoyed, and he hated it. For once, he wanted to feel okay. He wanted to stop this rage he carries with him. He wanted to feel nothing.

"Yeah? It's no big deal" His annoyance carried throughout his voice. He almost wanted to cry, because of how overwhelmed he felt.

How he hated emotions.

"It is if it's coming from you! You never apologize. Not even when you dropped food on my bed" 

"I guess" Yoongi shrugs, as his eyes roll back. It was his way to disguise the tears that wanted to pounce out his eyes. Even that expression felt like too much, but it was just this strong feeling, that he couldn't describe it differently.

Why was he acting like this? He should just act tough, be the man he's suppose to be. Or whatever his father used to say.

"What's wrong?" Jimin questioned, after feeling that tension between him and Yoongi. He wanted nothing more than to hear Yoongi's truth. But he knew that won't happen any time soon or ever.

But he cared. He cared so much that it physically hurt him to see Yoongi like this. And he knew why, or at least deep down he had a feeling.

It was the same reason as his. He missed his old friend. He missed laughing at the same movie, because you guys could never agree on one, and resort to one you watched ages ago.

It was a comfort movie. It was. Until it wasn't.

"Nothing" he shrugs it off. "What's wrong with you?" Yoongi's throws back the question. But he could guess the answer that was going to slip out of Jimin's mouth. It would be the same as his.

"Nothing"

Knew it.

They both stayed quiet. They were used to this, the silence. It was different before, but that was a different time. It was a time where the trio were together, where the trio would do everything together.

See, when Taehyung left and dumped y/n, in a way he also dumped his friends. At least Jimin and Yoongi. They never got an explanation either, so the pain and anger y/n feels, they feel twice as much.

They knew him longer than y/n, but still he didn't act like he did.

And they try to hide it. They try to hide the fact that Taehyung broke their hearts too. Taehyung was their glue in a way. He was the one to convince Yoongi to be a bit more out there and enjoy life. And he helped Jimin understand when it's necessary to act like an adult.

He was the perfect person to put Jimin and Yoongi in their place. The only difference was they both didn't mind it. And when he left. It was difficult for them to help or guide the other one out.

"I missed him" Yoongi wanted to blurt out. He wanted to shout. Taehyung was like his little brother, and when he lost him because he did lose him. He just wasn't ever himself.

But he chose to stay quiet. As did Jimin.

They simply gave each-other a knowing look, as their eyes began to reflect their inner pain. One smile and they went their separate ways.

Sometimes it was better to leave than stay.

Maybe they had more common with Taehyung than they thought.

You woke up with the biggest headache and you knew it was a foreshadow for todays event.

You didn't want to get up. You didn't want to see him, even though you've been waiting for this exact moment since he left.

You even typed up a couple of messages to send to Taehyung  before you eventually read them over and deleted them.

You wanted to know what he was going to say, and honestly speaking you would have sent them but you were afraid that it would be at a bad time. Or his girlfriend would see it and blame him or you for it.

You just didn't want to jeopardize Jin's birthday. And maybe you were afraid of the answer you'd get. Maybe it was a mix of both.

Sometimes you wonder if he's the same person.

Has anything changed? Well, apart from coming back and with a partner.

Has he dyed his hair the color he has always wanted? A lighter brown. Although the color sounds plain and quite common, Taehyung loved it. He said he found warmth in that color. He felt it every-time he would see that exact color in your eyes.

Has he been taking the writing courses he was saving up for? He used to walk around the streets holding your hand, showing you places, and making sure to bring a pen and notebook with him. He would bring you a pair as well. That way, you could write down what you saw, and your way of seeing the world compared to his. He wanted to learn a side of you, that only you can see. He wanted to make sure to learn and appreciate your vision.

Has he saved enough money for a car? You remember as you took bus rides to your dates, he would pick up pennies, nickels, dimes, and a couple of buttons because he couldn't see very well at night; and place them in his pocket. At first you were confused but then one day you asked him, and from that day forward, you both got to understand each-other in ways you never thought you could.

"Every-time I see a penny, nickel, or dimes on the ground, I have to pick them up. I know it sounds crazy, and I'm probably thinking too big, but I'm saving them up for two things."

And that's when you would butt in and ask him a very original question, "what are the two things?"

"Well they both involve you. Can you guess what it is?" Taehyung would always throw back a question to you, because he knew you'd get impatient and he found your annoyed face to be the cutest thing to ever exist.

"Come on! Just tell me! You know I suck at guessing. I'll probably just say something dumb too"

And as you went on with your whining, he would stare at you with pure adoration. Almost like he were looking at a cute puppy. He couldn't get enough of you. He didn't care if you or anyone else thought he was being extra or sappy, he just wanted to admire you every day.

"Well... okay! One is for a car"

"A car?"

He nods his head. "Yes! A car." He continues to admire your face, the features on your face were so perfect.

"That's great! I have a couple of coins that I can give you! It's not a lot but it's a step closer to reaching your goal. But wait, you said it involves me. How?"

"Well… honestly, I just want to be able to take you on dates without having to embarrass you. I know dating someone who uses a bus as a transportation isn't cool, so.. yeah."

"Woah. Slow your roll there buddy. Do you really think I care if you do or don't have a car?"

"No, I know you don't but I care. I mean I just- I see couples, where the guy picks them up in their own car, and takes them out and stuff. And all I can offer you is a bus ticket." He scoffs. "I want to give you what you deserve"

"Taehyung you've given me more than what I deserve. I mean I have you, and I clearly do not deserve you. And I didn't date you because of what you do or don't have. I'm with you because I know your heart, and I know that if I'm ever feeling down, you'd be there besides me, holding and making me feel better"

You can't see it because you're talking with so much speed and emotion. But something flipped in Taehyung's heart. He felt this urge to get on his knees and ask you right there to be his forever. He felt this urge to let you know, that if anyone doesn't deserve anyone, it's him. He didn't deserve you.

He didn't.

"You do all this without a car. You do all this without asking for anything back, even though I know I have a lot to repay you but-"

Your mouth was shut with a kiss. Taehyung had been hearing every single word that came out of your mouth, and each one touched his heart. He felt like he won a lottery, finding someone like you. And he knew that if he were to ever have to let you go, it would be one of the most excruciating pain he's ever felt.

You shake your head as you try to snap out of that memory. You don't even want to think of a time where you felt like you were going to be together for a long time.

You didn't even get to hear his second choice, if he were to save enough money.

It didn't matter anyways, and it shouldn't. It's been two years, so these random memories and past feelings should have been out of your system a long time ago.

You take a quick glance in the mirror, and get up with speed. You decided that today was it. Today was going to be the last day you cry and think of Taehyung. Because if you don't, you'll grow up old and sad.

And it feels stupid when you think of it. But maybe then you would convince yourself to let go. After all, today isn't your day, it's Jin's.

That old man is getting older and you need to appreciate his friendship and your other friends, before time passes by and you lose them too.

You've clearly been distant from them for a while now. You stopped going out with them, and meeting up with them in general. You always seem to use work as an excuse, and of course they never commented on it but they knew. They knew you were just drowning in your sadness.

But like you said, today was the last day. You're going to be more productive now. You'll fold your blankets, and fix up your bed. Maybe even clean your room a bit, since it looks like a tornado hit.

Your life was starting again today.

It only took a couple of hours, but you managed to clean your whole apartment, and just thinking about it makes you want to tear up. You thought for sure, you'd give up half way through cleaning, like you always do.

But for some reason, you didn't today. You accomplished something on your own, with no help. And it made you feel proud? happy? Maybe both. Because for the first time, you didn't rely on someone, and maybe you're over exaggerating, but for once you didn't care.

You were trying to let your emotions be valid.

Of course. You’re worse than today’s weather. You kept changing your mind. Because just like that, your happiness turned into nervousness.

You took a quick glance at the clock on your wall and it was time for you to get ready. You suddenly feel a slap to your face, as you're wanting nothing more then to call your two friends over.

So much for being independent and not needing to rely on someone anymore.

You walk towards the kitchen table, because you remember that was the last time you had your phone. And unknowingly form a pout, when you realize that your phone was indeed not anywhere near the kitchen area.

You sigh as you scan all over the rooms, under the couches, and even cross your fingers for someone to text or call you. But your phone is drier than a desert. And that was no where near an exaggeration, because it was the truth. its your fault though, you never answer peoples text or calls.

A knock on the door was heard, and you just knew that Jimin was behind that door. You also knew that he probably brought extra clothes, like some tights that would look "sexy" on you. Because Jimin likes to think that tights go with everything. And he also just has a weird obsession with tights if you really think about it.  

Or worse, he's brought an even sluttier dress, because he just thinks that if you wear something slutty, you're automatically not sad anymore.

To be honest, the logic is there. Just not when it involves someone as insecure as you.

You also don't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing your shocked face as you open the door, so instead you yell, "the door is open come in!" And continue searching for your damn stupid phone.

You decide to go back and check the kitchen one more time, and funny enough it's sitting right where you first had left it. You really need to get your eyes check, it's started to getting embarrassing.

As the door opens, you look through your messages and see one message from Taehyung. You debate if you should open it as your finger is placed right on top of the message. But instead choose to place your phone down on the counter and shut it off.

"I would have thought that the second time was going to work. I guess that’s why they say the third times the charm"

That voice. That bad humor. That deep awkward laugh. That feeling in your heart, when you think of  him.

"Taehyung?"

taglist: @bjoriis @btsbangers @kimxhanbin131 @got7usernames @gotjimin13 @laylasbunbunny @rjsmochii @jhopeshopee @taeriffic @shydestinyyouth @tarahardcore @bloodline1632 @turnthepageandbeburnt @starbtslove @whoa-jo @starlight-night0 @taebangtanbabe

[kaleforcale888]

Just Y/n - Cale Makar

Summary: You are not sure where you and Cale stand in your relationship.

Word count: 2.3K

Warning: cale being a red flag; lack of communication; anxiety

a/n: so while going through the notes app in my phone I found some of my work from the original kaleforcale888 and decided to rewrite it. Anyway thanks for sticking around as I get my crap all back together!

You didn’t know what it was about Cale, but you were definitely starting to have stronger feelings than just “liking” him. What a cliché, middle school thing to say, liking someone. You didn’t know what it was about the man; maybe it was his beautiful, blue eyes that caught you attention, or his crazy hair that sticks up in all different directions at any given moment.

Despite being incredibly good looking, he was also the sweetest person you had ever met. Cale had the best personality. On the outside he was reserved and quiet, but once you got to know him, he was actually really interesting and fun to be around.

You hadn’t been seeing or even hanging out with Cale for very long, only going on a few dates here and there depending on when he was in Denver. You had met at a King Soopers’ Starbucks, him having come in for a drink and leaving with your phone number. From then on you had been on one formal dinner date but had hung out at miscellaneous times when he was in the state. Your favorite was just spending time with him at his apartment and doing random, mundane things. You felt like you got to know the real Cale, not Cale Makar: MVP defenseman.

Spending so much time together made you feel like you had known him your entire life. One date and ever since, you had magically fallen into a routine together. When he had home games, you’d stay at his apartment until the game was over, then spend the evening together before sharing a bed together for the night. While he was away, you would sit at home, missing him, wishing he was there with you.

With your routines naturally integrating, you never had the “what are we talk.” Yeah, you kissed on a regular basis and often slept in the same bed, but some aspects of your life never fully unified; and for a time, part of you was fine with that, but as of late, it was starting to wear on you. You had never met his friends or even teammates, let alone his family, and you started to doubt your relationship, or maybe lack thereof.

***

You sat on the couch of Cale’s apartment, watching the end of the hockey game. The Avs won again, and you knew he would walk through the door nonchalantly but would be elated on the inside. After about an hour or so later, a jingle of keys in the door let you know that Cale was home. You smiled to yourself.

“I’m home,” Cale joked, throwing his bag next to the door so he could easily find it tomorrow morning.

Looking back at him, you rested your chin on the back of the couch, “Hi, how was it,” you asked, acting like you hadn’t just watched the entire game in his living room. You always liked to ask him how it went to get his perspective.

He crouched down to be level with you and smiled, “It was good.”

You rolled your eyes at his humbleness and leaned in closer to him. Cale closed the gap between you, placing a quick kiss on your lips and stood up, too fast for your liking.

There honestly wasn’t a thought running through your mind that he didn’t like you, especially not after that flirtatious kiss. You just wished you would finally make it “official.” All you wanted recently was to meet his friends and to be a part of his world, completely.

“Hey babe,” Cale called, you didn’t even realize he had walked away because too distracted by your own thoughts.

Slightly smiling to yourself at the sweet endearment, “Yeah?” Why were you even questioning anything?

“I think I’m gonna take a quick shower, then head to bed. You are more than welcome to stay if you’d like,” he said, leaning on the door frame of his bedroom, waiting for a response. You just shook your head and settled back into the couch.

***

A few days later, you found yourself back in the very same place, Cale’s apartment. You had spent the night and he had just got back from his morning skate. “So then, Mel and a few of the other girls came and picked up their new jackets, and the guys got distracted so Bednar just ended it then.”

You shook your head, just listening to him as you stole a grape from his lunch plate. You were keeping unusually quiet today and sat with your thoughts, this was new to Cale, but he could tell that there was something bothering you. All you could think about was getting a jacket with Cale’s name on the back and being able to sport it with pride on game days. You also couldn’t help but wonder if you would get along with the other girls and wanted to meet his friends.

Sitting in silence for a few more moments, opening and closing your mouth, Cale looked up at you, expecting you to speak, “do you think I’d get along with the other girls?”

“I don’t see why you wouldn’t,” he responded, walking to the kitchen, “You’d probably love them.”

“What about the guys?”

“They’d probably adore you, probably chirp you for being with me, but its all-in good nature,” he said as he opened the fridge to pretend to look busy, “But why are you bringing this up now? What’s going on?”

“I want to meet your friends, your Denver family. I want to see the other side of you and the other community you’re apart of. I feel like you’re ashamed of me or some…” before you could finish, Cale closed the door of the fridge and pinched the bridge of his nose. He let out a breath, walked closer to you, and grabbed your hands.

“I’m not ashamed of you by any means… it’s just always been hard for me to let people into my life. But listen, if it really means that much to you,” he stopped and took a deep breath, “there is a charity dinner next weekend, before the start of the playoffs, would you like to be my date? We could get all dressed up, maybe look for a dress…”

Before he could continue, you shrieked out a yes and grabbed his face, kissing all over it. “Does this mean I get to meet all the guys?”

“I don’t see why not,” he smiled at you and pressed your foreheads together before kissing you.

***

The charity  dinner was tonight and to say you were nervous was an understatement. How was Cale going to introduce you? Were you his girlfriend, his good friend? You weren’t entirely sure.

You looked in the mirror, and touched up your hair as Cale came into the bathroom connected to your bedroom. He arrived 30 minutes early as always and waited on your bed as you finished getting ready. Making eye contact through the mirror, you gave him a tight-lipped smile to which he returned, “I’m a little nervous,” you said as you scrunched into your shoulders.

“It’ll be okay,’ he said, finally walking into bathroom to wrap his arms around your shoulders.

“I know,” you turned around in his arms, “but what if they don’t like me? They have to be protective over you.”

“I promise you, if I like you, they’re going to have to put up with you. But you only have like 2 minutes, otherwise we’re gonna be late,” he said, checking his watch.

You rolled your eyes, “your definition of late or mine,” you teased and turned to finish what you were doing.”

***

As you walked into the hall, it felt like all eyes were on you and Cale, his arm interlocked with yours as you entered. “Calers!” A tall blonde man shouted across the room. Cale’s cheeks turned brighter red than normal as he directed you towards the group the man was standing with.

“Hey guys.”

“Well, well, well, Calers, who is this?” One of the men in the group asked.

“This is Y/n. Y/n this is Gabriel Landeskog, Nathan Mackinnon, and JT Compher.” He finished, pointing to a decently tall man with flaming red hair. Your heart sank in your chest, and you looked down hoping your face didn’t show too much disappointment. You weren’t officially his girlfriend; you just did relationship-y things. An awkward silence landed over the group.

“It’s nice to finally put faces to the names,” you fake laughed, breaking up some of the silence.

As the guys started up a conversation about what they could do better heading into playoff season, a woman walked up to Gabe. She gave the man a drink before stepping closer to you and offering you a smile, “Hey, I’m Mel.”

“Hi, I’m Y/n,” you smiled back at the blond.

“All this hockey talk is kind of boring, would you like to get a drink?”

You shook your head and untangled your arm in Cale’s before leaning up and whispering to him, “I’m gonna go get a drink,” to which he responded with a nod and a kiss to your cheek.

You followed Mel to the bar and ordered your drink, “I’m Gabe’s wife, if you couldn’t tell,” she joked, making you feel less nervous, “Are you Cale’s girlfriend?” She asked as you sat down at the bar together.

There it was the ever so dreaded question. Taking a sip of your cocktail to distract yourself, you shook your head, “no, just Y/n,” you said, repeating what Cale had told the other guys earlier in the evening.

Mel shook her head in understanding, “We’ll, he’s truly a good kid, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she said, looking over at her husband and the defenseman interacting.

“No, yeah, I know. We’ve been hanging out for a while and I really like him, but we’ve never made anything official.”

Mel looked at you, studying your body language, she could tell this was bothering you. “Well, I don’t know how long you guys have been “hanging out”, but I’ve known him for three years now, and he’s never once brought a date to one of these. Let alone a barbeque or team pool party.”

A slight smile crept up on your lips. At least he felt comfortable enough to be willing to introduce you to his friends, despite you having to ask him. You and Mel continued to talk and get to know each other before she excused herself. When you looked over to find Cale, you saw her talking to Gabe and Cale, who looked like he was very interested in whatever she had to say.

Not long after, you finished your drink and followed in her footsteps to find Cale who was talking to some older looking men. Tapping on his shoulder, he greeted you with a smile, pulled you into his side, and continued his conversation with the men. Once there was a lull in the conversation, he looked down to you, noticing you weren’t acting like yourself, “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied, “just getting a little tired,” you finished off with a fake yawn.

Cale shrugged it off and looked at his watch, “It is getting late, why don’t we get out of here?”

As you walked to the car hand in hand, your thoughts couldn’t help but spiral. Cale opened the car door for you; this sucked, you knew when you got home you would fall directly back into the dance of avoiding whatever conversation needed to happen.

Slamming your eyes shut, you laid your head on the car seat. The quiet got interrupted by Cale gently whispering, “You’ve seemed a little off these past few days. What’s going on in that mind of yours Y/n?”

“Nothing.”

“Please don’t lie to me, Y/n.” Cale whispered, grabbing your hand.

“I’m not lying.”

“I know you are. I was talking to Melissa, and I think we need to have a conversation.”

This conversation could either be very bad or very good, there was no telling at this moment.

“I agree,” you breathed out.

“She said that I should stop avoiding telling you how I feel,” he said as gently started rubbing his thumb across your knuckle, “I hope you know I really like you,” you slightly chuckled, “like a lot.”

“Well, that’s good to know. I was really starting to doubt, I mean just Y/n. Really, Cale? You can’t even introduce me as your girlfriend,” you said, refusing to look up at him.

“I didn’t think we needed a title. For goodness’ sake, we practically spend every waking minute together!” Despite his frustration and lack of being able to truly communicate his feelings, he remained calm. He knew that raising his voice could only make the situation worse and he would only feel more frustrated, “I thought those were titles were juvenile.”

You quickly looked up at him, laughing, trying to hold back tears, “Cale, I want to be your girlfriend!”

Cale sighed and leaned over the console, putting your foreheads together.

“Okay then, will be my girlfriend?”

“Really? That’s all it took for you to finally ask me but yes” you smiled and kissed him.

“I’m sorry, by the way… I didn’t know it meant that much to you.”

“I accept your apology. But I will say, we are both terrible at communicating.”

“I agree, now can we go home?” he asked as he put the car in reverse to pull out of the parking spot.

***

A couple of weeks later, a package was delivered to Cale’s apartment addressed to you. Opening the cardboard box, you found a burgundy jacket with two interlocking hockey sticks on the arms. On the back was “MAKAR” stitched in black with a white outline and a big 8 to match his jersey. You smiled widely and hugged the fuzzy jacket in excitement. The only other thing inside the box was a note.

“Just in time for playoffs :) - M”

[samasmith23]

Kamala Khan's death in Amazing Spider-Man (2022) #26 leaked NOT once... but TWICE in a row!!!

It looks like someone at Marvel RRREEEAAALLLYYY wants this whole publicity stunt of killing off Ms. Marvel (aka, Kamala Khan) to FAIL super hard considering that the pages for tomorrow’s Amazing Spider-Man (2022) #26 have been leaked not once, but twice now! And now we sadly know exactly just how Kamala dies…

Umm… last time I checked, Kamala has a healing factor. Sure it’s nowhere as powerful as Wolverine’s (and it does require Kamala to eat a lot in order to replenish her energy reserves), but unless that sword is powered by some kind of magic bullcrap which completely shuts off her healing factor, this makes zero sense! Kamala literally healed from a bullet wound to the stomach in her opening arc, and even survived having an entire building collapse right on top of her (just barely, but still)!

Also, it feels so random and arbitrary to have Kamala randomly use her shape-shifting powers to pose as a body-double Mary Jane, especially since she’s not utilized them a lot due her opening arc centering around Kamala becoming comfortable in her own skin after previously trying and failing to resemble her idol Carol Danvers (therefore overcoming her personal insecurities and internalized Islamophobia).

Plus, last time I checked Kamala's only since then shape-shifted into a couch, James Rhodes, and a scary cartoon face.

While it does feel somewhat in character for Kamala to risk her life to save someone she barely knows as part of her characterization as a superhero, the actual execution of it feels incredibly at odds with her past character development (whether it be struggling with her fears of death and mortality in Magnificent Ms. Marvel, or already receiving validation from her family, friends, and dozens of other superheroes, including Peter Parker, so why does she need it from him again when she dies?!).

Based on these leaked pages, I get the general impression that Zeb Wells originally fully intended to kill off Mary Jane here since all throughout his Spider-Man run he’s heavily hinted at it and foreshadowed it with that Paul guy (seriously... WHO THE HECK IS PAUL?!) and their two kids (who are apparently actual mystical constructs or something…), and that mystical supervillain wanting “the Scarlet Woman’s blood” (I know the phrase "Scarlet Woman" is specifically meant to refer to MJ’s red hair, but it is also unfortunately a derogatory slang term for a sex-worker). But maybe Marvel editorial told him to rewrite his planned death of Mary Jane at the last minute as a desperate effort to promote the upcoming The Marvels movie (which Wells shares a co-writing credit for the screenplay of), or Wells wanted to subvert reader expectations but did so in a distasteful manner?

I honestly don’t know... but if I had to guess I’d probably say it’s the former option since Marvel previously killed off Doctor Strange and the Scarlet Witch before resurrecting them a few months later to hype up their upcoming MCU films, plus the Spider-Man offices in particular are notorious for their editorial mandates and interfering with writer’s plans at the last minute (just look at how they recently forced Nick Spencer to settle on retconning Sins Past out of existence instead of One More Day like he was originally building-up towards). And do I think that Zeb Wells himself is an Islamophobic misogynist because of this? Probably not... especially considering I don’t know the guy’s personal politics (maybe he's a swell person IRL) and editorial mandates are likely at play here. I do think that killing off Kamala in such a random and distasteful manner is still a bad look and does give off those unfortunate implications. However, based on what I know I feel that this is more a case of judging the actions as bigoted (whether they were intentional or not) instead of labeling the person themselves as a bigot.

But regardless of whether or not the decision to fridge Kamala Khan is the fault of Zeb Wells, or Nick Lowe or someone else over at Marvel Editorial, I do want to make one thing perfectly clear... DO NOT... I repeat... DO NOT SEND ANY OF THEM DEATH THREATS! Like, I've already lost count of how many people I've encountered on both Twitter and Tumblr who are seriously outright calling for both Wells and Lowe's blood in response to these leaks.

And since the issue is being released tommorow, I feel the need to reiterate that harassing creators and sending them death threats is NEVER acceptable under any circumstances, and that doing so makes you no better than the kinds of supervillains that Kamala regularly fights against! We can criticize a bad story WITHOUT becoming supervillains ourselves! Follow the advice of @atopfourthwall here for heavens sake people:

Now this is hopefully going to be the last time I discuss Amazing Spider-Man (2022) #26 here on Tumblr as I have zero plans on giving any actual money to the issue myself. I may consider reading the Fallen Friend: The Death of Ms. Marvel one-shot, if only because it's being written by several of Kamala's past creators G. Willow Wilson, Saladin Ahmed, and Mark Waid, so I trust them to be able to salvage something decent out of this whole fiasco. But that's it. I do plan on releasing a future post which provides an in-depth analysis about the ways in which Ms. Marvel comics have discussed themes of death in a much more nuanced and respectful manner, but I have no idea when it will be released.

Until then folks... vote with your wallets. Please do not cave into the outrage machine and feed into the publicity stunt that this whole mess so obviously is. Don’t give tomorrow's issue of Amazing Spider-Man any more attention than it's already received. Instead go support all of Kamala's past adventures to show your love and appreciation for the character if you do not own the graphic novel collections already. And most importantly... for the love of all that is holy, DO NOT attack the creators involved with this terrible decision and especially DO NOT send them death threats!

[ribbons-n-bells]

OOC:

‼️FINAL UPDATE‼️

Hey everyone, Crow here again. This is unfortunately not a happy update nor one I wanted to make, but for personal reasons I'm leavin the blogs and the rewrite.

binarypictor, lobbys-moving-shop and ribbons-n-bells will be left as archives, I will keep the ask boxes open for the rest of today, maybe tomorrow too in case anyone wants to say anythin but after that I'll close thouse too.

I don't really get interaction, never did but especially not anymore so I doubt this announcement will matter much to anyone, but still, I do feel like I owed to inform the few people who do care for these blogs, characters and their stories rather than leave in silence and possibly worry anyone.

Jingles is goin to be scrapped. Lobby will be kept tightly on storage, only taken out and used when needed, the only character you might still see any of is creAItor.

If any of you guys are for some reason interested in still keepin tabs on me or keepin contact with me, feel free to follow and interact with me over on my main @crowtaclysm

~ Crow

[lobbys-moving-shop]

OOC:

‼️FINAL UPDATE‼️

Hey everyone, Crow here again. This is unfortunately not a happy update nor one I wanted to make, but for personal reasons I'm leavin the blogs and the rewrite.

binarypictor, lobbys-moving-shop and ribbons-n-bells will be left as archives, I will keep the ask boxes open for the rest of today, maybe tomorrow too in case anyone wants to say anythin but after that I'll close thouse too.

I don't really get interaction, never did but especially not anymore so I doubt this announcement will matter much to anyone, but still, I do feel like I owed to inform the few people who do care for these blogs, characters and their stories rather than leave in silence and possibly worry anyone.

Jingles is goin to be scrapped. Lobby will be kept tightly on storage, only taken out and used when needed, the only character you might still see any of is creAItor.

If any of you guys are for some reason interested in still keepin tabs on me or keepin contact with me, feel free to follow and interact with me over on my main @crowtaclysm

~ Crow

[binarypictor]

OOC:

‼️FINAL UPDATE‼️

Hey everyone, Crow here again. This is unfortunately not a happy update nor one I wanted to make, but for personal reasons I'm leavin the blogs and the rewrite.

binarypictor, lobbys-moving-shop and ribbons-n-bells will be left as archives, I will keep the ask boxes open for the rest of today, maybe tomorrow too in case anyone wants to say anythin but after that I'll close thouse too.

I don't really get interaction, never did but especially not anymore so I doubt this announcement will matter much to anyone, but still, I do feel like I owed to inform the few people who do care for these blogs, characters and their stories rather than leave in silence and possibly worry anyone.

Jingles is goin to be scrapped. Lobby will be kept tightly on storage, only taken out and used when needed, the only character you might still see any of is creAItor.

If any of you guys are for some reason interested in still keepin tabs on me or keepin contact with me, feel free to follow and interact with me over on my main @crowtaclysm

~ Crow

[wynharper]

Hi, besties!

So, over on my main page I've kept saying 'surprises are coming soon' and I know it's late on a Sunday here on the east coast of the USA but I know it's still light out on the west coast, my European besties will be waking up soon and my Australasia besties are already in tomorrow. I also know it's a holiday here in the US this weekend but that's not the case everywhere and I'm not too afraid to continue reblogging my own things.

Last year, I started writing this story called Flash in the Pan. It's a summer romance between a single dad and his young nanny. Due to some.... fun brain things, I had to walk away from this project but I was never done with it.

In fact, when I started to get better, I started to think of Tilly (and Nathan) again and how much their story means to me and how important it is for me to write a rather extreme age gap romance that is a lot about safety and mutual respect and understanding of power dynamics. The kind of age gap relationship I have and have not experienced in turn, essentially. But in thinking about them and rereading what I'd written so far I just realized that.... some things needed to change for me to be able to tell Tilly's story to an audience the way I wanted to and the way that would do what was in my head justice and I just didn't think I could achieve that with what was already on the page so I've been rewriting some things.

Behind the cut because this is a long post, my beloveds!

The first key difference in this rewrite of Flash in the Pan is that Tilly is slightly older. She's still nineteen but she's nineteen going on twenty and, in this version, she is in college instead of having just finished high school. Like I said, there was a lot that I was thinking about and one of the things that I was thinking about was Tilly's search for independence and wanting to be seen as an adult and that's definitely something I've been drawing from my own experiences about. And while I was drawing from my own experiences about seeing an older guy when I was freshly nineteen and freshly graduated from high school, I wasn't feeling like that was exactly something I could fully use as a playing ground for the growth I wanted Tilly to also experience from this relationship with Nathan. I want her to be at a point of transition in her life but I believe that I can achieve that still (and maybe even a lot better) with this difference.

And, honestly, from a marketing standpoint of this story, I'm aware that while I may be drawing inspiration off of a lot of my own experiences, the situation I was in is one of those situations where even just the mention of extreme age gap is a hard no boundary for some people. I expect that there will still be some hard no boundary on that and I respect that. At the end of the day, I write for me but I also want anybody who wants to read this to feel as safe as possible consuming these words.

Another really big difference here is that I'm not taking the best friend away in this version but I am changing the nature of their relationship. I like Tilly and Nina's flirtatious nature with each other, I like their obvious attraction to one another. I like that this is a person that Tilly has always, without a doubt, felt safe with. Safe to talk to, safe to explore things with. And I'm not saying I'm taking that away but I am going to dial it back. Tilly is not going to be as experienced in this version as she was in the first, especially not with Nina.

The reason I have decided to dial back that aspect of their relationship is because I started it with the goal of safety, I started it with the goal of showing that Tilly is really only comfortable talking about her sexuality with people who make her feel safe. However, there was such a gap between the episodes and after I got sick and didn't write for a long time, I came back and I read it and I read my notes and I thought, "I don't have the energy to do what I want to do for this." If I don't have the energy to do what I want to do for that plot line, that means I will not do it justice. At no point do I want that aspect of her relationship with Nina to come off fetishistic of WLW relationships and if I don't believe that I can do it justice then, for me, it is inherently fetishistic and that's unacceptable to me. Because there's already so much media that horribly portrays WLW relationships or curiosity in sexuality and I do not wish, after years of being harmed by that kind of media as a consumer, to contribute to the very problem and continue the cycle.

So, I'll be relaunching Flash in the Pan via both Kindle Vella and via Patreon. The reason I'm going to upkeep on Vella is because I know there are people who prefer that platform and it also exposes me to possible new readers! But for all my non-US friends who have been telling me for months that they want to read it and it's not accessible because of the platform and for my friends who have told me they don't like how Vella is set up, I'm going the route of Patreon. More to come soon on that and thank you for wanting to read about these people I made up falling in love or something like it.

[behindthescenesoftaylor]

Hihi super specific but would you be able to do a fic with Tweek + f!reader (platonic and aged up to hs) where they’re best friends and reader is known for being easygoing and lighthearted but then someone (maybe cartman or some other rando) insults Tweek and reader gets deadly silent n intimidating. Reader goes ballistic n absolutely apeshit. like pure unbridled rage. And beats the shit out of the perpetrator

Ik this was very specific but pls do feel free to change anything up if u think it’ll make a better/funnier/more fun to write story :) thank you!!

The aggression within Tweek tweak x f!Reader platonic!

Warnings: fighting?

Im so sorry this took so long I’ve been so busy! If you don’t like feel free to re request and Il rewrite it! I don’t know if i did good or bad, i feel like it was rushed, but then again when don’t i feel like it was rushed?

Female reader | 812 words | aged up HS! | cartman being cartman 😒

——

Tweek and (y/n) we’re soulmates. Well not romantically of course, but platonically. They filled in a hole for each other, (y/n) made Tweek feel at ease, and Tweek helped (y/n) be the lighthearted person she was to this day. Well, maybe not so much to this day anymore, after what happened.

(Y/n) sat with Tweek like normal, sitting with Tweek meant that she also had to sit with Craig, Clyde, Jimmy, and Tolkien. It was a little awkward being the only girl there for a while, but they quickly warmed up to her and they all became best friends, but nobody could compare to Tweek. She was his number one and he was hers.

“So Tweek, if you need help with a shift today i’d be more than happy to help!” She offered, swirling her drink with her straw as she looked up at him.

“Even if I didn’t need help I would still want you to come!” He smiled, he then looked around and saw the guys staring at him, which made him twitch and let out a “gah!”.

“I can't believe this” Craig shook his head playfully and scoffed.

“I took your man!” (Y/n) teased and wrapped her arm around Tweek making Craig roll his eyes. Like usual he flipped her off, which made her laugh.

“You can have him tomorrow, Craig. I have to go to the animal shelter anyway, I volunteered.”

“Ew, you’ll have to pick up dog shit!” Tolkien gagged, pushing away the food that he was once eating.

“At least I’ll get to play with all the dogs! They get their cages cleaned and I get to play with them, sounds like a win-win!”

The boys shook their heads in disgust, no way would they have done that.

“Are you guys done? I’ll go throw away your trays.” (Y/n) asked standing up, Tweek immediately stood up with her. “Me too”

They nodded their heads and pushed their trays towards (y/n) and Tweek, (y/n) happily picked them up and walked towards the trash can.

On the walk there, when she was talking to Tweek, she accidentally distracted him, making him bump into an all too familiar figure.

“Watch it!” the short, stubby boy squealed, looking up to see who had bumped into him. When he realized it was Tweek his frown turned into a smirk.

“Oh it’s the twitchy freak-“

(Y/n) set the trays down, oh hell no. She watched silently, giving cartman a death stare, but he never noticed. Her once smile turned into a frown as she crossed her arms.

Tweek twitched nervously “I’m- s- sorry- gah!”

“You’re s-s-s-sorry?” Cartman snickered and shoved tweek. “Fucking spit it out, you sound like a fucking baby trying to say its first word!”

Cartman was suddenly pushed back with a harsh shove. His eyes squinted in anger once again and he looked to see who pushed him, when he looked up he tilted his head in confusion.

“What the fuck is your problem (y/n)?!”

“My problem? What the fuck is your problem cartman?” (Y/n) glared at him, her niceness had fully disappeared and turned into anger. Nobody called Tweek names, especially if she could do something about it.

“Can you not take a joke? Oh! I know, you have a crush on twitchy tweek over here!”

Finally, she snapped. She grabbed one of the trays that she had set down just a moment before and pulled her arm back, when it came down, the tray harshly hit Cartman on the head.

With a thump, he fell, and giving him no time to recover at all, she jumped on top of him.

She raised her fists and brought them down on his face, she repeatedly punched, her hand was aching but she never stopped.

“Dont”

She punched again, making him bring his arms up to try and shield himself.

“Mess”

She punched through his arms, the impact was still hard enough to hurt his face.

“With him”

Instead of punching him, she grabbed both sides of his head and slammed it into the ground, not enough to injure him, but enough for it to hurt. She got up and stood over him, he rolled back in forth in agony and cried for his mother.

“Again” she brought down a brutal kick to his stomach, making him lose his breath. After that she was done, her knuckles were a bright red and her hand cramped and ached but it didn’t matter.

She turned to look at tweek, discovering that the whole cafeteria was looking at her wide-eyed. Others' mouths were opened so wide, she could have sworn their chin was on the ground.

Muttering and whispers suddenly erupted, like an unexpected volcano. Some people began to clap and others cheered for her.

“I’m sorry tweek, he just makes me so angry!” She said with a frown. “If he ever messes with you again, tell me.”

She turned to the crowd, some kids had their phones out recording her. “That goes for all of you too!” She yelled.

She smiled and turned back to tweek.

“Want to walk me to class?”

[waltwhitmansbeard]

hello! a few hours from now, the epilogue of go on, claim my heart, the my fair lady sequel, is gonna be posting, so i wanted to take a minute to thank everyone who has stopped by my lil corner of the internet to read what has become my largest writing project to date. i had no idea what i was getting myself into when i first started writing mfl, especially not half a year of feverish, near-obsessive plotting and writing and rewriting this story that would not leave me alone. a lot of things fell to the wayside as i wrote mfl and gocmh, and i don't regret any of it, because i can safely say that this is the writing that i am the most proud of.

i want to thank @romeoandjulietyouwish in particular for her graciously allowing me to play in her sandbox. no one's mind works like lis's, and as i have said before, she comes up with so many fucking stellar ideas that she leaves crumbs for the rest of us, so i'm super grateful that she's so kind about letting us take those crumbs and make them our own. mfl wouldn't exist without you, lis, so thank you, thank you, thank you.

i also could not wrap this series without calling out the two best readers a girl could ask for, @ravendruid and @crispysnake. y'all are fucking unhinged, but it is the exact energy that every writer needs to keep going. i can't tell you the number of times a drabble or chapter posted that i wasn't particularly fond of that you two completely changed my opinion about. you two are the kindest, most enthusiastic, most generous readers, and i'm so lucky that you're also my friends. please continue to be absolutely batshit in my tags; it's the only thing that keeps me going.

(also @otterlycaleb made fucking ART about this shit, what the fuck what the fuck what the FUCK—)

a hopefully but probably not quick note about the future of mfl: today, like literally right now, i am in the middle of my first day of work at a brand new job, one that will require me to move my entire life halfway across the country, back to my hometown. it is big and scary and exhilarating and everything i've been hoping for, and i feel so, so lucky. this does mean that for the next little bit, while i learn a new job and pick up my shit and drive cross-country, i will probably be less able to write long or short fics, so i hope y'all don't mind me shutting up for the first time in forever. that being said, while i have absolutely no plans to write a third installment in the mfl 'verse, that doesn't mean there isn't more to say (as y'all will find out in like three and a half hours lol). i fully plan on still writing tmwiw drabbles set before, during, and after mfl/gocmh, and i will still be accepting prompts and requests for drabbles set in this 'verse until i say otherwise. mfl will always occupy an inordinate amount of my brain space, and i refuse to not share that with y'all.

additionally! starting very soon (like, maybe tomorrow? we'll see how busy i am, lol), i will be posting to ao3 the entirety of the mfl 'verse in chronological order. every chapter, one-shot, and drabble, in the order that they happened. another massive shout-out to @ravendruid for being my own personal lore-keeper on this; she read every single mfl chapter, tmwiw drabble, and one-shot to help me get this shit in order. the ao3 work will be titled i've come a long, long way (also from "my fair lady" by kaleo, are we seeing a pattern here?), and the plan is to post five chapters a day until the whole thing is up (although, again, with the moving this might get a lil wibbly wobbly). there will be some additional proofreading edits to these chapters (sometimes i can't spell!!) but nothing about the substance of these chapters will change, so this is just for people who like their stories to be told chronologically (fucking weirdos). this work will only be available on ao3, although it will be linked on my mfl masterpost.

ok, i think i am done for now. i have taken up enough of your time, in so many more ways than one. thank you again, if you read every single installment of the mfl saga or if you just read a paragraph. all of it means the world to me, and i know i never would have continued past the first chapter if i weren't part of such a wonderful, loving, generous, brilliant community. i've only been watching critical role for just over a year now, part of the fandom for even less than that, and i can't believe i haven't always had y'all in my life. please continue to love and support each other, and thank you for loving and supporting me.

[sonickedtrowel]

TDOTD rewrite!!!

I feel like I've already posted all the fun parts of this so I have to give you some angst, I'm sorry 😂 (11's POV:)

It was quiet now when he was alone, and that hurt more than he could possibly have imagined.  And in the absence of River’s ghostly company, other, far less welcome things had begun to creep into his mind.  Things he’d left behind lifetimes ago, that had no business barging back into his brain at a time like this.  But grief was funny that way.  It came in waves, and dragged all sorts of rubbish up with it.  Things that had been meant to stay buried in the deep.

“This is not my war,” a familiar voice had been saying, annoyingly, every time he thought he’d found a moment’s peace.  “I will not fight.”

Well, and so he’d thought.  And then he’d died, and done what he’d sworn never to do; become what he’d sworn never to become.  Old news.  Pointless to be dwelling on it.  He had enough self-loathing already to last another dozen lifetimes, so all of that could just go away and leave him alone; he was full up.  The war was over.  He’d made sure of that.

Or maybe it wasn’t.  Maybe it never could be, if the last soldier could never come home.

It was these sort of miserable thoughts the Doctor was fleeing when he hastily parked the TARDIS somewhere about his usual Earth haunts and set out on foot into a warm spring night.  He stamped down the pavement as if it had personally wronged him, feeling unpleasantly at odds with the peaceful blue dark, broken only by the gold glow of streetlamps beneath rows of flowering trees sighing in the wind.  

He’d meant to wander until he managed to clear his head, but the TARDIS always had her own agenda.  She just had to drop him here, when everything was stupidly lovely and, certainly not by coincidence, the scent of blossoms on the night air viscerally reminded him of another warm spring evening.  He’d gone for ice cream with all three Ponds that night, and they’d been strolling back home when he clumsily offered River a taste of his, only to smudge her nose with it instead.  

She’d looked so wonderful frowning at him under the streetlamp, with her hair lit up and her strawberry-dotted nose, he couldn’t possibly resist.  The cold, sweet kiss soon warmed as her smiling lips parted and she tugged him closer.  Rory was groaning in complaint while Amy laughed, and melting ice cream was dripping over the Doctor’s hand, and it was one of those moments when he really knew: he would give it all up.  Time and space, the universe, everything, if it meant they could actually have this.  Ordinary nights, all in a row— that ought to have sounded like torture, but with River he knew it could only be a fantastic adventure.

They left the Ponds’ for the TARDIS later that night, and he threw himself onto the bed still in his clothes, settling against the headboard to watch her take off her earrings and sort out her hair.  He thought about telling her, but like so many things, it would hurt more to say it out loud.  It didn’t matter what he wanted; it was an impossible dream.  They had only what little bits of time they could steal before they had to carry on in opposite directions again.

Instead, he’d asked her to stay another day, and hoped that she understood.  He could always ask her again tomorrow.  

It was strange to think that that night hadn’t been so long ago, though it felt like another lifetime.  By the time the Doctor emerged from his thoughts enough to pay any mind to where he’d been going, the first pale glow of dawn was beginning to light the sky.  He looked up to find that his feet had carried him to Amy and Rory’s place.  Of course.  Where else?  

Staring at the strangely pristine facade of the deserted terraced house in the faint light, he could almost imagine that nothing had changed.  He’d chosen it for them in the hopes that they could have a life of normalcy and safety, but he just couldn’t stay away and let them have it.  His hand went instinctively to his sonic as he approached the front door, but he stopped, reached into another coat pocket, and with fumbling fingers pulled out his spare key instead.

As soon as he entered the dim hall, the Doctor knew he’d made a mistake.  As exercises in self-flagellation went, he’d probably been better off sulking on a cloud.  Everything was just as he remembered it.  He wasn’t sure if that was better or worse than what he might have expected.  It meant that Brian and the elder Ponds hadn’t had the heart to clear the place out, instead leaving it an unvisited shrine, gathering dust; a still life picture of a story cut off mid-sentence, never to be finished.  He thought of his own bedroom on the TARDIS— rarely-glimpsed now, and still full of River’s things, untouched— and tried to swallow the growing lump in his throat.

He hoped River had done what he was too cowardly to do, and told the families what had happened. Then he imagined her going all alone to the grandparents that scarcely knew her, breaking the unimaginably devastating news to them that they’d never see their children again, and thought that maybe he actually hoped she hadn’t.  

What a mess he’d made of this family.  Of his family.

Rory’s favourite mug sat out on the kitchen table, a dehydrated tea bag still clinging to the side.  There were dishes from breakfast piled in the sink — must have been Amy’s turn that day.  They were only going to New York.  That was like going round the corner shop for a pastry.  That was nothing.  Easy, safe.  It should have been okay.  They should have been okay.

By the time the sun had fully risen in the sky, the Doctor had made his way upstairs to the guest bedroom where River had slept when she visited.  So had he, on the occasions that he could be persuaded to hold still for a night.  Well, River always had a way of being very convincing on that front.  

He laid back on the bed, stared up at the ceiling, and wondered if the sheets really did still smell of her.  The visceral jolt to his limbic system suggested it wasn’t only his imagination.  Each breath he took called up excruciatingly real fragments of memories of lying here in this bed, warm and content; her face pressed into his shoulder, his nose buried in her hair.

At some point, he must have finally closed his eyes, because what felt like barely a second later there were bright lights in his face and the imposing silhouette of a familiar woman standing over him. 

“Kate?” the Doctor mumbled, trying to squint through the torch beam being shone in his eyes.

[kaleforcale888]

Just Y/n - Cale Makar

Summary: You are not sure where you and Cale stand in your relationship.

Word count: 2.3K

Warning: cale being a red flag; lack of communication; anxiety

a/n: so while going through the notes app in my phone I found some of my work from the original kaleforcale888 and decided to rewrite it. Anyway thanks for sticking around as I get my crap all back together!

You didn’t know what it was about Cale, but you were definitely starting to have stronger feelings than just “liking” him. What a cliché, middle school thing to say, liking someone. You didn’t know what it was about the man; maybe it was his beautiful, blue eyes that caught you attention, or his crazy hair that sticks up in all different directions at any given moment.

Despite being incredibly good looking, he was also the sweetest person you had ever met. Cale had the best personality. On the outside he was reserved and quiet, but once you got to know him, he was actually really interesting and fun to be around.

You hadn’t been seeing or even hanging out with Cale for very long, only going on a few dates here and there depending on when he was in Denver. You had met at a King Soopers’ Starbucks, him having come in for a drink and leaving with your phone number. From then on you had been on one formal dinner date but had hung out at miscellaneous times when he was in the state. Your favorite was just spending time with him at his apartment and doing random, mundane things. You felt like you got to know the real Cale, not Cale Makar: MVP defenseman.

Spending so much time together made you feel like you had known him your entire life. One date and ever since, you had magically fallen into a routine together. When he had home games, you’d stay at his apartment until the game was over, then spend the evening together before sharing a bed together for the night. While he was away, you would sit at home, missing him, wishing he was there with you.

With your routines naturally integrating, you never had the “what are we talk.” Yeah, you kissed on a regular basis and often slept in the same bed, but some aspects of your life never fully unified; and for a time, part of you was fine with that, but as of late, it was starting to wear on you. You had never met his friends or even teammates, let alone his family, and you started to doubt your relationship, or maybe lack thereof.

***

You sat on the couch of Cale’s apartment, watching the end of the hockey game. The Avs won again, and you knew he would walk through the door nonchalantly but would be elated on the inside. After about an hour or so later, a jingle of keys in the door let you know that Cale was home. You smiled to yourself.

“I’m home,” Cale joked, throwing his bag next to the door so he could easily find it tomorrow morning.

Looking back at him, you rested your chin on the back of the couch, “Hi, how was it,” you asked, acting like you hadn’t just watched the entire game in his living room. You always liked to ask him how it went to get his perspective.

He crouched down to be level with you and smiled, “It was good.”

You rolled your eyes at his humbleness and leaned in closer to him. Cale closed the gap between you, placing a quick kiss on your lips and stood up, too fast for your liking.

There honestly wasn’t a thought running through your mind that he didn’t like you, especially not after that flirtatious kiss. You just wished you would finally make it “official.” All you wanted recently was to meet his friends and to be a part of his world, completely.

“Hey babe,” Cale called, you didn’t even realize he had walked away because too distracted by your own thoughts.

Slightly smiling to yourself at the sweet endearment, “Yeah?” Why were you even questioning anything?

“I think I’m gonna take a quick shower, then head to bed. You are more than welcome to stay if you’d like,” he said, leaning on the door frame of his bedroom, waiting for a response. You just shook your head and settled back into the couch.

***

A few days later, you found yourself back in the very same place, Cale’s apartment. You had spent the night and he had just got back from his morning skate. “So then, Mel and a few of the other girls came and picked up their new jackets, and the guys got distracted so Bednar just ended it then.”

You shook your head, just listening to him as you stole a grape from his lunch plate. You were keeping unusually quiet today and sat with your thoughts, this was new to Cale, but he could tell that there was something bothering you. All you could think about was getting a jacket with Cale’s name on the back and being able to sport it with pride on game days. You also couldn’t help but wonder if you would get along with the other girls and wanted to meet his friends.

Sitting in silence for a few more moments, opening and closing your mouth, Cale looked up at you, expecting you to speak, “do you think I’d get along with the other girls?”

“I don’t see why you wouldn’t,” he responded, walking to the kitchen, “You’d probably love them.”

“What about the guys?”

“They’d probably adore you, probably chirp you for being with me, but its all-in good nature,” he said as he opened the fridge to pretend to look busy, “But why are you bringing this up now? What’s going on?”

“I want to meet your friends, your Denver family. I want to see the other side of you and the other community you’re apart of. I feel like you’re ashamed of me or some…” before you could finish, Cale closed the door of the fridge and pinched the bridge of his nose. He let out a breath, walked closer to you, and grabbed your hands.

“I’m not ashamed of you by any means… it’s just always been hard for me to let people into my life. But listen, if it really means that much to you,” he stopped and took a deep breath, “there is a charity dinner next weekend, before the start of the playoffs, would you like to be my date? We could get all dressed up, maybe look for a dress…”

Before he could continue, you shrieked out a yes and grabbed his face, kissing all over it. “Does this mean I get to meet all the guys?”

“I don’t see why not,” he smiled at you and pressed your foreheads together before kissing you.

***

The charity  dinner was tonight and to say you were nervous was an understatement. How was Cale going to introduce you? Were you his girlfriend, his good friend? You weren’t entirely sure.

You looked in the mirror, and touched up your hair as Cale came into the bathroom connected to your bedroom. He arrived 30 minutes early as always and waited on your bed as you finished getting ready. Making eye contact through the mirror, you gave him a tight-lipped smile to which he returned, “I’m a little nervous,” you said as you scrunched into your shoulders.

“It’ll be okay,’ he said, finally walking into bathroom to wrap his arms around your shoulders.

“I know,” you turned around in his arms, “but what if they don’t like me? They have to be protective over you.”

“I promise you, if I like you, they’re going to have to put up with you. But you only have like 2 minutes, otherwise we’re gonna be late,” he said, checking his watch.

You rolled your eyes, “your definition of late or mine,” you teased and turned to finish what you were doing.”

***

As you walked into the hall, it felt like all eyes were on you and Cale, his arm interlocked with yours as you entered. “Calers!” A tall blonde man shouted across the room. Cale’s cheeks turned brighter red than normal as he directed you towards the group the man was standing with.

“Hey guys.”

“Well, well, well, Calers, who is this?” One of the men in the group asked.

“This is Y/n. Y/n this is Gabriel Landeskog, Nathan Mackinnon, and JT Compher.” He finished, pointing to a decently tall man with flaming red hair. Your heart sank in your chest, and you looked down hoping your face didn’t show too much disappointment. You weren’t officially his girlfriend; you just did relationship-y things. An awkward silence landed over the group.

“It’s nice to finally put faces to the names,” you fake laughed, breaking up some of the silence.

As the guys started up a conversation about what they could do better heading into playoff season, a woman walked up to Gabe. She gave the man a drink before stepping closer to you and offering you a smile, “Hey, I’m Mel.”

“Hi, I’m Y/n,” you smiled back at the blond.

“All this hockey talk is kind of boring, would you like to get a drink?”

You shook your head and untangled your arm in Cale’s before leaning up and whispering to him, “I’m gonna go get a drink,” to which he responded with a nod and a kiss to your cheek.

You followed Mel to the bar and ordered your drink, “I’m Gabe’s wife, if you couldn’t tell,” she joked, making you feel less nervous, “Are you Cale’s girlfriend?” She asked as you sat down at the bar together.

There it was the ever so dreaded question. Taking a sip of your cocktail to distract yourself, you shook your head, “no, just Y/n,” you said, repeating what Cale had told the other guys earlier in the evening.

Mel shook her head in understanding, “We’ll, he’s truly a good kid, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she said, looking over at her husband and the defenseman interacting.

“No, yeah, I know. We’ve been hanging out for a while and I really like him, but we’ve never made anything official.”

Mel looked at you, studying your body language, she could tell this was bothering you. “Well, I don’t know how long you guys have been “hanging out”, but I’ve known him for three years now, and he’s never once brought a date to one of these. Let alone a barbeque or team pool party.”

A slight smile crept up on your lips. At least he felt comfortable enough to be willing to introduce you to his friends, despite you having to ask him. You and Mel continued to talk and get to know each other before she excused herself. When you looked over to find Cale, you saw her talking to Gabe and Cale, who looked like he was very interested in whatever she had to say.

Not long after, you finished your drink and followed in her footsteps to find Cale who was talking to some older looking men. Tapping on his shoulder, he greeted you with a smile, pulled you into his side, and continued his conversation with the men. Once there was a lull in the conversation, he looked down to you, noticing you weren’t acting like yourself, “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied, “just getting a little tired,” you finished off with a fake yawn.

Cale shrugged it off and looked at his watch, “It is getting late, why don’t we get out of here?”

As you walked to the car hand in hand, your thoughts couldn’t help but spiral. Cale opened the car door for you; this sucked, you knew when you got home you would fall directly back into the dance of avoiding whatever conversation needed to happen.

Slamming your eyes shut, you laid your head on the car seat. The quiet got interrupted by Cale gently whispering, “You’ve seemed a little off these past few days. What’s going on in that mind of yours Y/n?”

“Nothing.”

“Please don’t lie to me, Y/n.” Cale whispered, grabbing your hand.

“I’m not lying.”

“I know you are. I was talking to Melissa, and I think we need to have a conversation.”

This conversation could either be very bad or very good, there was no telling at this moment.

“I agree,” you breathed out.

“She said that I should stop avoiding telling you how I feel,” he said as gently started rubbing his thumb across your knuckle, “I hope you know I really like you,” you slightly chuckled, “like a lot.”

“Well, that’s good to know. I was really starting to doubt, I mean just Y/n. Really, Cale? You can’t even introduce me as your girlfriend,” you said, refusing to look up at him.

“I didn’t think we needed a title. For goodness’ sake, we practically spend every waking minute together!” Despite his frustration and lack of being able to truly communicate his feelings, he remained calm. He knew that raising his voice could only make the situation worse and he would only feel more frustrated, “I thought those were titles were juvenile.”

You quickly looked up at him, laughing, trying to hold back tears, “Cale, I want to be your girlfriend!”

Cale sighed and leaned over the console, putting your foreheads together.

“Okay then, will be my girlfriend?”

“Really? That’s all it took for you to finally ask me but yes” you smiled and kissed him.

“I’m sorry, by the way… I didn’t know it meant that much to you.”

“I accept your apology. But I will say, we are both terrible at communicating.”

“I agree, now can we go home?” he asked as he put the car in reverse to pull out of the parking spot.

***

A couple of weeks later, a package was delivered to Cale’s apartment addressed to you. Opening the cardboard box, you found a burgundy jacket with two interlocking hockey sticks on the arms. On the back was “MAKAR” stitched in black with a white outline and a big 8 to match his jersey. You smiled widely and hugged the fuzzy jacket in excitement. The only other thing inside the box was a note.

“Just in time for playoffs :) - M”

[mangomushiii]

No One Knows Who I Am...

For so long, I thought I was okay with it—okay with being invisible, even to myself. Time slipped through my hands as I stayed hidden behind a version of me that others wanted to see. I became the person they could trust, the person they could relate to, and in doing so, I wore a mask that fit so well, I forgot it wasn’t my face.

I traded authenticity for acceptance, and now I realize—no one truly knows who I am. Maybe the worst part is that I didn’t even know. Somewhere along the way, I lost something I didn’t even know I had: my true self. My purpose.

But I’m done living in the shadows of who I could have been. 2025 will be the year I take back my life. The year I stop hiding. I owe it to myself to rediscover who I am, to rewrite the story I’ve been too afraid to tell. This time, I’m choosing authenticity. This time, I’m choosing me...

I’ve realized I don’t have a place to document my changes without feeling exposed or falling into the trap of comparison. So, I’ve decided to use Tumblr. For me, it feels like the perfect place to start.

On so many other social media platforms, everything feels like it’s about face value—what you have, how you look, and what niche you fit into. You’re expected to dedicate yourself to one thing, build a following, and ride the momentum until you’re someone ‘important.’ Only then are you valued, appreciated, or seen.

But I don’t want to work hard to be someone. I don’t want to force myself to belong to a group just for the sake of belonging. I just want a space to share my thoughts, my feelings, and my reflections throughout the day. I want to connect without the weight of likes, views, or follower counts. I want to have unique conversations, meaningful debates, and moments of reflection—not about building an audience, but about simply being.

I don’t want to encourage others to consume my life; I want to enjoy life with them. I want to embrace the quiet, honest moments that get lost when everything is curated for exposure.

Maybe this has been said before, time and time again—but it doesn’t make it any less true. And for once, I want to start living in a way that feels true to me.

Tomorrow, I’m going to take time to type out my dream—the life I envision for myself, curated by me, and for me. Of course, I want to be healthier, to go to the gym, to read more, but I need to look deeper. What is the core of my purpose in this world? What is the truth of who I am beneath all these layers I’ve built for others?

I’ve spent so much of my existence living up to expectations that weren’t my own. What does someone like me—someone who gave away pieces of myself to please others—actually deserve? And how can I be sure the choices I make now are mine and not influenced by the voices of everyone else telling me what I need?

I feel like I’m taking myself apart to piece myself back together, this time with intention and care. I need this. I need to know that I still have the chance to rewrite what I’ve already done—to reclaim my life while I still can.

But I wonder: Is there any solid part of my life left that truly belongs to me? A foundation untouched by the shadow—the version of me I created to survive, to be what others wanted, or the parts of myself I buried so deeply that they turned into anger?

I’ve looked into therapy and holistic healing, trying to find answers. I’ve given myself over and over again, until I don’t know what’s left. But I need to know—do I still have a part of myself that’s pure and true? Something untouched, something real, to build on as I move forward?

Tomorrow begins that journey. A journey to uncover myself, to confront the shadow, and to finally step into the life that feels like mine. I owe it to myself to try.