#i hope i never experience a hurricane like that again

[dyinstars]

well that sucked

[vaguely-concerned]

huh. you know something I just consciously put together for the first time about caterina and lucanis' relationship is that through the game we get to hear them talk about each other a lot, but we get very few chances to hear them speak with each other at any length at all. contrast it with other companions whose storylines have elements of 'believed lost/long time no see relative returns!' like bellara and davrin, where we get to see both of them have several pretty in-depth conversations with cyrian and eldrin. hell I think even rook talks with varric longer in the regret prison scene than we ever get to see lucanis and caterina interact directly.

(and when we do see them interact, it's mostly one-sided -- it is, perhaps unsurprisingly, caterina who is doing most of the talking and giving all the orders, as he ruefully observes is her wont after murder of crows. including jumpscaring him with 'you're first talon now btw' and the shocked pikachu face in five acts he goes through in response lmao. perhaps it's more accurate to say that she talks at him and he reacts, than that they talk to each other much.)

it has such an interesting effect too, because in deliberately denying us direct insight or experience and only having this mosaic of description from each of them to go on, as well as forcing us to pay attention to the negative space of what is carefully not said, it's evocative along the same principle that you never actually show the monster in a horror film. if you've read the wigmaker job you have a clearer image of the more uh. worrying elements at play here going in, but there is something fascinatingly insidious and naturalistic in the way it's 'hushed up' in the game itself. she has his complete loyalty both as a member of her house and, more importantly, that of an abused child to a parent figure. he readily admits several times that she's a difficult person to live with, an even more difficult person to be loved by ("even for me. and I was her favourite")... but never once does he actively blame her nor truly conceptualize that he has every right to do so (that he can be angry with her and still love her, because whether he should or not he unavoidably does), or that she might have acted differently than she did, that she made a choice every time to hurt him. even affectionately he speaks of her as a force of nature, an act of god -- something that can't be reasoned or pleaded with or resisted, something you can only hope to navigate with as little pain as possible and pray to survive. let yourself get carried away by the riptide, resisting it will only make it worse. you don't compromise with a hurricane, you just try to find the best shelter you can and cross your fingers while you wait for it to pass and be calm again.

love is that hurricane. you do whatever she asks. you earn her continued affection day by day by never letting her down. you only want the things she tells you it's okay to want and cut everything else away preemptively. ("A wyvern tooth dagger?? I loved wyverns as a boy --Caterina would never let me have one of these, though." and as we have all wept and gnashed our teeth over, it never even OCCURS to him that he's a like thirty-five year old adult man who can buy himself any dagger he wants at any time. she said he couldn't have one. so he'll never have one. that's just how it works. and maybe if Illario could just accept that and find his peace with it like I have, this whole thing wouldn't be so difficult. oh lucanis.)

such is the price -- and the cost -- of being loved by her, it's a loan on which the interest will never stop piling up. you have to keep paying it down in perfection every day if you want to keep it. who got the worse deal there: the grandson who has abandoned everything else in life to live up to that and mostly succeeded, until the day he's so burned out and broken it threatens to no longer be an option, or the grandson who can never seem to scrape together enough worth in her eyes no matter how he begs, borrows or steals it, how he hustles and plays dirty?

one of the worst things that can happen to anyone is to be loved by a selfish god. another one of the worst things that can ever happen to anyone is to not be loved by a selfish god. (hope that helps, boys!) even in betraying everything else, Illario can't bring himself to hurt his grandmother, because that would defeat the whole point. who would he defiantly be proving himself worthy to, without her. in love, devotion, submission, hatred, frustration, bitterness, everything is defined in relation to her, you can spot the gravitational force of it through how the dellamorte family move through time and space. she -- her love and regard and attention -- is still the sun both of their worlds orbit around, even as adults. the game might never tell you outright 'she used to beat and starve them growing up. for their own good you see, so they'd be strong (and broken down enough for her to build them up again however she wanted but I'm sure that's incidental)', but if you know even a little bit about how these dynamics can work the writing is on the wall everywhere you look and all the more unsettling for it.

follow lucanis' freeze-logic and fraught interpersonal catch 22 irreconcilable mixed emotions problems back far enough, looong before the ossuary entered the picture, and you start to see caterina's ghost around every fucking corner. she is so proud of him. (well, she would be. she made him. she forged exactly the knife she needed and it rests willingly, devotedly, in her hands, it would return to her every time because it doesn't know love as anything but to be a knife. his tama never taught him how to be anything else. his biggest fear with her is that she won't even want him back, the way he is now.) to the best ability of her soul, whatever parts of it survived a lifetime of crow politics and 'five children, eight grandchildren, only Illario and me left now', I think she really does loves him. he certainly loves her, with all the sincerity and artless desperation of a child, of the little boy he was once. and what she's done to him (and to illario, for all his shitty gremlin scar-ass antics lol) is awful. the harm is real, and the love is real, and trying to find a way for these two truths to exist in the same space is driving all three of them their own individualized forms of insane. you know. the way only family can and so often does lol.

through implications and short glimpses and having to put the pieces together yourself, you can have the feeling that there is very genuine mutual love and attachment in this relationship... and that beneath that there is something so profoundly wrong. and the sneaking '...oh shit it gets worse the longer I think about it' horror of that is more effective for me at least than the stark in-your-face presentation of the facts of the matter could have been. the love is here. the love is here. it only ever makes it worse.

[sungstars]

fall off. | pjs x fem!reader

i.e your boyfriend is so shy and you have so much fun making him flustered!

content warning: smut! (18+ only, mdni!!), oral (f. rec), fingering (f. rec), implied dom!sung sorta… established relationship!

word count: 1.6k (not proof read sawri)

author's note: this is entirely based off of that tiktok sound that goes "come here bae come sit next to me come and take ur draws off damn u on the edge of the bed u about to fall off!" i had sososos much fun writing this :3 i love freaky shy jisung! likes & reblogs are very appreciated and i hope u guys enjoy reading this!! also i finished this before the hurricane hits because i have nothing better to do for the next few hours LOL... will try to get some more stuff out over the next few days!

"come sit next to me," you patted the empty space on your bed as you looked across at your boyfriend, jisung, "why are you so nervous?"

jisung was gripping his jeans so hard his knuckles were turning white and ears flushed fiery red, "oh. i'm okay right here. thanks."

his words were coming out very strained and jisung couldn't even bring himself to look at you, "it's really warm in here."

"you are wearing jeans and a hoodie, as well as a long sleeve shirt underneath it," you replied, leaning back against your pillows and extending your legs out, "you could take them off."

jisung's voice got caught in his throat, face turning beet red, "all of it?"

you giggled, poking his side gently with your foot, "sure. make sure you take your underwear off too."

it took everything in you to not bust into laughter at your boyfriend, and it took everything in jisung to try not to implode from embarrassment.

jisung was by no means a virgin, he had a plethora of sex before the two of you started dating. there was just something about you that made him so nervous to be intimate with you.

you had your fair share of make out sessions, always ending up with you in his lap and sucking dark hickeys into his neck, but anytime the two of you tried to do more, he just froze up and couldn't.

of course you never made him feel bad about it. you found it endearing and cute how nervous he was. even when jisung mentioned that he never had this issue before, you didn't get upset. you were so understanding.

"jisung," you sat up on your elbows, "come back to me. you started wondering off in your little world again."

he muttered out a quick sorry, starting to fan his face gently to calm down this heat in his face. you watched him in adoration, smiling because he was just too cute when he was flustered.

however, your head tilted in concern when you saw how far off the bed he was, "sung, you're about to fall off of the bed."

"oh. didn't even notice." he scratched the back of his head, adjusting his positioning on the bed, leaning against the wall, "sorry."

the two of you fell into a silence, comfortable for you, but awkward for jisung. you stretched your legs out to lay across his lap as you rested against the pillows again and closing your eyes.

jisung didn't know what to do or say. he's been in your room before, so he's not sure why he feels so. . . hot. the temperature isn't too high, and he's been in physical contact with you.

he really wants to get more physical, to make you feel good and fall apart from pleasure that he knows he can inflict upon you. there was just. . . something that made him nervous about doing it. maybe he didn't want to disappoint you because unlike other people he's slept with, you are a constant presence in his life.

and also, most of the people he's slept with were drunk freshman year experiences.

he just needed to stop thinking about the what ifs. jisung needed to stop thinking in general, he just needed to do it. he was more than capable of doing these things to you.

"stop thinking." he told himself as he looked at your legs across his lap, drumming his fingers against them, "just do it."

"fuck it, we ball." he squeezed his eyes shut before adjusting himself to stand on his knees, pushing your legs gently to stand between them.

your eyes fluttered open, looking up at your boyfriend who had an unreadable expression on his face, "everything okay, ji?"

jisung nodded, his hands coming up to unzip his hoodie before shrugging it off and tossing it behind him, "y-yeah."

you smiled up at him, gazing at his defined arms before finding his eyes again, "you look handsome."

his cheeks turned a rosy pink which caused him to mentally curse because he just got that hue to leave his face, "you look pretty. you always do."

"what's on your mind?"

with a strong exhale through his nose, jisung pushed all of these nervous thoughts that returned down and pressed his lips against yours.

a surprised noise escaped you, but you brought your arms to wrap around his neck and kissing him back. one of his hands brought your leg to his hip, pressing his growing erection into you and causing you to part your lips slightly.

jisung took his opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth and you gently tugged on the nape of his hair. a moan escaped the man above you, causing you to pull on it again to get another noise out of him.

his hands began to wonder between the two of you, starting to travel underneath the material of your camisole, fingers dancing lightly against the expanse of your stomach.

the boy pulled away from you slightly, his lips slightly swollen and eyes full of desire, "can i. . .can i touch you, y/n?"

"of course you can, ji." you said softly, hands rubbing up and down his chest, "you can do whatever you want."

he gently pushed your shirt up until it reached your collarbones, breath hitching when he saw that you weren't wearing a bra.

you watched him for a moment, wondering if he would touch you or get flustered and pull your shirt back down over your tits.

instead, he caught you by surprise and leaned down to suck one of your nipples into his mouth while rolling the other one around between his fingers.

a noise of pleasure escaped you, bringing your hands up to his hair to pull on it once more.

jisung switched between your tits constantly, making sure to show them an equal amount of attention before removing them from his mouth and continuing to kiss down your stomach.

the cold air coming into contact with your now hard nipples caused you to whimper, jisung looking up at you with concern.

"are you okay? should i stop?" he asked, pulling himself up to check on you, which you quickly stopped by pushing his head back down.

"i'm fine, perfect actually," you flashed a reassuring smile at him, "continue, please."

he nodded, beginning to kiss your stomach once more, his hands moving their way up to your shorts.

jisung gently dipped his fingers into your waistband, slowly starting to pull them down to your hips.

his lips followed behind, kissing over the hibiscus tattoo that began to fade after years without a touch up, grazing his teeth over the skin lightly.

“no panties?” he murmured against your skin, biting down harshly, “hah. . . it’s like you planned this.”

you smiled mischeviously at the boy between your thighs, threading your hand through his hair, "wishful thinking."

"don't think," he said in between kisses, pulling your shorts down your thighs and over your ankles, tossing them behind him, "just focus on me."

jisung grabbed one of your legs, adjusting himself before placing your knee over his shoulder and attaching his lips to your inner thighs.

you felt your heartrate pick up, nervous at what was to come next. you talked a big game because you didn't actually think anything would come from teasing jisung.

his lips traveled closer to your core, but instead focused on sucking light marks into your skin. jisung wanted to see how desperate you could get for him, even though he wanted nothing more but to taste.

"ji," you whined out, tugging on his hair harshly, "don't be a fuckin' tease. you were just acting like a virgin who's never even touched a girl before."

annoyance crept up on jisung, rolling his eyes in disbelief. there was no way he was gonna let you talk to him like that when you both know he is far from a virgin.

"talking a lot for somebody who wants to be touched," he muttered back, using two of his fingers to spread your lips open and admiring how glistening your cunt was, "she's practically drooling for him."

your face flushed at how vulgar he was, but oh you were eating it up on the inside. this is exactly what you wanted, jisung to snap and show you how nasty he was under that shy boy exterior, "then do something about it."

jisung ignored your comment, blowing air on you cunt to make you shut up. he was going to get you to beg, no matter how long it took or how much he desired to lick you clean, "ask nicely."

"i'm not asking for shit," you spat, faux irritation escaping you, "we both know you wanna eat it anyway."

you got him there, he couldn't lie. however, he knew what game you were playing, and he decided to give in, "you're right."

a victorious look on your face quickly contorted to one of pleasure when jisung wrapped his plush lips around your clit.

a high pitched whine left your lips when his teeth gently grazed your bundle of nerves before letting his tongue lick down your slit.

your grip in his hair tightened when you felt his tongue move skillfully as he teased your hole with one of his fingers. the one wrapped around your thigh began digging crescents into your skin, the boy between your legs moaning into your cunt.

"fuck ji," you breathed out when his finger slid into you, gently pumping in and out, "fuck it feels so good."

the boy pulled away for a moment, looking up at you with your juices glossing his lips and dripping down his chin, "good because i don't plan on stopping anytime soon."

END

pt. 2 ???

[animeyanderelover]

Dear lord above, I at least want to write something today but with the little energy I have I do not want to publish something that was requested and write it with less motivation so just have those quick Hc's.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, stalking, blackmailing, threats, violence, disrespect, overprotective behavior, abduction, death

Tags: @lovley-valentine7

Fushiguro Toji Hc's

🪱​Toji for me is very interesting to view because he has been pushed to a point beyond return and he himself has embraced this fact already years ago. He just doesn't care about anything anymore. His wife was his only hope but even that has been taken away from him and with her death any chance for him to ever be a decent man has passed away too. For Toji you are no saving grace. How could you be when what he is feeling for you is so much more twisted than what he was feeling for his dead wife? As irresponsible and neglectful of other lovers and even his own child he is, Toji is actually very perceptive of his own emotions as soon as he realises that there is something brooding within him. His wife made him want to change and be a better person for her. That simply isn't the case with you. When Toji looks at you he only feels that primal desire to keep you to himself and to murder anyone who even attempts to get in his way. With no morals he feels like he has to uphold back and with nothing to lose either he willingly walks into the hurricane of his growing obsession. He wants it that way. Because whether he is going to admit it or not, those feelings make him feel alive.

🪱​Unashamed and direct, Toji is everything but subtle to express that he wants you. From the very first day he is suffocatingly possessive of you and aggressive and rude about it. He easily tracks you down via your odor as his experience of being an assassin really are more than just useful and overall just frightful for you. Honestly, he doesn't plan to woo you. He just wants you to be his and he doesn't expect to care about what you think. Initially that is indeed the case. That is until he discovers that underneath all that possessive greed other feelings for you start budding. Tender feelings which remind him of the emotions he had for his previous wife. He does care after all. Subtle changes happen only then but only when it involves you. He still continues his job of assassinating people as long as it earns him his money and he still doesn't give a shit about people overall. He doesn't have the capacity to do that. The only one spared from the blatant disrespect and rudeness he expresses to his surroundings is you. It's all he finds himself capable of. Better for only you, still the same asshole and ruthless murderer to everyone else. That should be more than enough for him.

🪱​Jealousy is not a word that Toji would use to ever describe himself. It isn't a word that you would use to describe him with either. Overly possessive is a description much more fitting for a man like him and it is indeed his raging possessive emotions for you that reign predominantly whenever he catches sight of someone else with you. However, he is no grown manchild who barges in the moment he spots such a sight as long as the interaction has a practical function like you buying something and asking for advice or taking care of other business. What Toji hates though is idle chatter with no bigger meaning behind it all and that is when he always interrupts the conversations and pushes you away. His enhanced senses give him the advantage of being able to tell when there is a case of someone liking you a bit too much and then everything is over. No matter what you do, the other individual always gets hurt and the best thing you manage to do is have Toji tone down his violent response to the point where no bones are broken and only a few large and throbbing bruises serve as a reminder for the next few weeks. It's no surprise that you never see the face of such people ever again.

🪱​Toji has confessed to you what he is doing to earn his money as he doesn't even bother to paint himself as the good guy. This is just who he is and how he does things and it only leads to you fretting from a very early stage on for everyone. He's made it clear to you that he is not going to ever murder you but everyone else is a free game and it is this fear that Toji uses to keep you on a leash if he senses that you have rebellious thoughts. He has absolutely no problems assassinating whoever is a thorn in his eyes but that doesn't mean that he brags about it in front of you. There seems to be some semblance of decency that he relearns as soon as he starts living with you and this is one of them. It's such a casual routine for him that it might even happen that he brutally taunts someone, swiftly ends their pathetic life afterwards and then brings some takeout back home for you and him. Still, if someone from your surroundings suddenly disappears you always know whose doing it is. He never confirms it verbally to you but sometimes his green eyes give you that look that have you quickly shut up. You've learned to know what it means. 'Careful now or someone else will be next.'

🪱​You're already stuck in a relationship with him long before he has abducted you but at that point you already know that this outcome is inevitable. However, despite all the shit you have grown through at that point already you still manage to be mildly flabbergasted when he one day drags you to the place the two of you will live in together from now on. It's a decently sized apartment and whilst the kitchen has already been littered with cups of instant ramen it is much cleaner than you expected. You find out soon after that this place has actually only been recently purchased by him and that's how you find out that he's basically been living in the houses of other woman or hotel rooms before he met you. He's literally telling you that he's been homeless before he decided to live together with you, realising that you shouldn't have to adapt to his previous lifestyle. He doesn't expect you to act like a housewife and keep the apartment clean though. By all means, you can litter too if you want to as he is used to living shitty. You do abide by some basic expectations you have yourself though as you do not want to live like a racoon in a trash can and Toji lets you do as you want.

🪱​After years of not having looked properly out for his own hygiene Toji actually finds himself caring about such aspects again but only because it is very obvious that it bothers you. He's never really minded that he smells like sweat, blood and fast food but you do, especially whenever he gives you a bear hug. He very much forces physical affection on you as he has only ever promised to draw the line at physically harming you. Honestly, you do realise from an early point on that Toji lives in a different world than you do and that you wouldn't be able to escape and run away from him even if you had the opportunity. There's no way for you to escape someone with senses as enhanced as his and immense physical abilities that easily outperform top athletes. So as strange and frightening as it is, you try to adjust to a life with him even if only to protect family and friends who are very much a green light for him to threaten and end if you do something stupid. You're actually allowed to go outside as soon as he knows that you have learned how things work but you aren't allowed to interact more than necessary and if you just want to go outside to have fun he always accompanies you.

[shapard]

Feather of Fate🕊️

Lucifer x Seraphim!fem!reader

Soulmate arc

You're eating breakfast peaceful (are you?) and Heaven is a big mess

In pieces

Chapter 1 < Chapter 2> Chapter 3

Heaven was a big mess. 

Nothing new. 

Since you’re gone Emily feels all the pressure that was on you. All your responsibility was handed to her like a silver tablet with no refund. 

It was exhausting. And it didn’t help that Sera was also a big mess. 

She never left Emily’s side, almost like a guard dog. 

She lost her daughter because of her dirty little lies. And is scared that Emily would leave her too.

The arch angels aren’t pleased for her doing. She’s not God.

Her Image now like a Hurricanes aftermath.

No one wants to deal with her not even her own daughter Emily. 

Emily was very distant towards Sera. She doesn’t want to be near her, not after what she has done.

Your Mother sent Emily away when you fell. 

She couldn’t be there for you. She wasn’t there when the most painful thing happened to you. 

She felt ashamed, like a failure. 

You always protect her from the vicious laws of heaven. Sometimes even taking her punishments to protect her. 

And when you needed her the most, she wasn’t there. 

She can’t deny that it’s probably her fault that you fell. Taking all her misleads and getting you into trouble after trouble.

So that she can be safe. 

Talking back towards Sera in the court was the final straw. 

Sera could’ve talked to them, but she didn’t. 

She agreed because of her Image. 

To Sera’s surprise, the upper angels weren’t Impressed.

It didn't help at all.

Not even the winners want to talk with her anymore.

…

Lucifer couldn’t believe his eyes. 

You were awake! 

But not in the state he’d hoped. You were covered in your own blood and the floor was all a mess.  Ceramic was soaked in with the golden color of your blood. 

“What happened?” You didn’t answer. 

Somehow, he knew you wouldn’t answer. Falling from heaven can be quite traumatizing. He talks out of experience.

You couldn’t even keep your wings like he did, the pain must be unbearable. You were definitely not used having no wings anymore. 

You were hiding behind a Blanket, Lucifer found it quite cute and adorable how you were hiding from him. 

But it also hurt him.

Ache.

“Are you hurt?” Lucifer asked you, not wanting to scare you away. You slowly peaked above the blanket. You have to say he is quite handsome. 

“I don’t know if I can trust you.” 

The handsome man looked at you and sighed. “I helped you when you fell out of heaven. You’ve been out for a couple of days. I can help you, please let me help.” 

“Why?” Your mere whispers made his heart squeeze. 

He couldn’t find an answer to your question. 

Was he helping you because he knows how it is? 

To get thrown out of your home, getting ripped apart from the elders. Family not even sparing a glance at you. But there was something else why, but he couldn’t put his finger on it.

“I know how you feel, let me help you.” You nod, you don’t have anything to lose. 

You already fell from heaven and live now in hell. Getting thrown right infront of the bus. 

Letting the Blanket fall from your back showing the man your fresh back wound. 

“Again, the back?” He chuckled, “By the way, the name’s Lucifer.” The name rang in your ear. “The Lucifer?” your voice is kind of soar. 

He snapped his fingers and with a sparkling sound a cup of water formed infront of you. Muttering a small thanks, you grabbed the cup pf water and let it slide down your throat. You hummed in approval. 

“I’m Y/n.” His hands hover over your back and he pulled the ceramic pieces slowly out of your back.

“That’s a beautiful name, Y/n.” Your name out of his mouth felt like sweet caramel. You wanted him to say your name again and again.

You smiled a bit and winced at him removing the splinters. After he pulled the last pieces out, he hovered his hand again over your back.

This time his hands started to glow in gold. His hands radiant heat, it was like a warm summer breeze. 

After a while the feeling stopped, you turned around to take a look at Lucifer. 

“You’re Lucifer?” He nods but didn’t look you in the eyes, he felt ashamed somehow. “Indeed I am.” He finally looks back at you and you beamed a smile at him. 

“You don’t look creepy at all.” That surprised him and he blushed slightly at your sudden forwardness. 

“You should rest. We’re going to talk tomorrow.” He patted your head and walked towards the exit. Giving you a final smile, he went back to his couch. 

You sighed and laid down on the lightly soaked blooded mattress. “I should at least try to sleep.”

…

You didn’t sleep well that night. 

Your back was still hurting even after the treatment Lucifer gave you. 

The blood still sticked on your skin making it quite uncomfortable to stand up. You have to take a shower.

The red Sun lighted the room red. A quick reminder that you indeed are in hell. In comparison to heaven was Hell rather cozy. It was warm and more colorful, even though the colors are very vibrant or dark. 

It was exciting. 

It’s been so long since you felt that kind of Emotions. 

Everything in heaven was the same. You must do the same and be like everyone else. You have to work 24/7, and work 9 to 5 or even worse. Not even a single break, not even for you a Seraphim. 

You worked over night almost every day for your Mother Sera. It pained you when you saw her chilling the while day and Emily flying and playing around heaven. It is your responsibility as the bigger Sister. 

Well, was to be exact.

A knock echoed through the silent chamber making you snap out of your thoughts.

A couple seconds later Lucifer came through the door. Peering inside to see if you’re awake.

“I made you some pancakes.” Lucifer nudges his sharp clawed finger into the direction of the kitchen. 

On a table you see a plate with pancakes, Ice cream and a cup of hot chocolate. He sat down on the mattress. 

His pants started to soak in the semi fresh golden blood. He shrieked and sat up looking at his pants. 

“Are you still bleeding?” He franticly searched for any Injuries on your back. “I’m fine. It’s just the blood that spilled on the bed. Sorry for that.” He let out a sigh of relief, “Let me change the Mattress.” 

He held out a hand for you to take. With hesitation you took his clawed hand. With a pull he pushed you upwards, you gasp at how fast he was moving you. 

Your legs felt like jelly, your head started to spin, and it started to get dizzy. He held you tight before you could fell. “I got you.”

Without any second thought Lucifer carried you towards the kitchen. Your cheeks redden at this behavior. 

His touch was striking you like a lightning bolt. It was a warm comforting feeling. His Arm around your waist left a tingling almost sparkling feeling. The feeling almost made you smile like a fool. 

“Thanks.” It was a mere whisper, but Lucifer heard it very clear. The weird feeling on his arm was distracting him immense, though your voice brought him back out of his thoughts. And he smiled.

Lucifer realized how long he was actually holding your waist. Retrieving his Arm rather quickly he coughed out of distraction.  “Just sit over there.”

“Lucifer?” He hummed and looked at you, the way he chewed the food made you giggle slightly.

You smelled pretty bad. You didn’t want to ask him if you could take a shower, but you have to take a shower. His gentle gaze took your worries away and made her ten times more nervous. 

“Can I take a shower?” Lucifer nods hesitant. “Of course, you can.” He laid down his food and took your hands and walked slowly towards his bathroom. 

… Time skip…

The Shower was very relaxing, even though it was kind of creepy to know that Lucifer was waiting behind the door. 

The food was hellish good, heaven could never. 

In heaven it all tasted the same, very blunt and no emotions in it.  

Lucifer took your plate and cramped his sleeves up to wash your plate. You followed his swift movements and how smooth he washes them. 

It amazed you somehow, washing dishes isn’t something Interesting but how he washes them is just different. 

Then you saw it, his mark. Suspicious Identical like yours. Please no. 

Somewhere in Heaven:

Sera sat Infront of a U-shaped table looking up at none other than the arch Angels themselves. “Sera.” A rather deep voice said making her jolt in her seat.

“Michael.”

A/n: I know this chapter is kind of boring but trust me. It’s going to be good.

[winterrrnight]

new beginnings

navigation

pairing: stepdad!soft!rafe x mom!reader

detailed summary: You weren’t living such a great life. Your husband had turned his back towards you and was drowned in his addiction to drugs, not giving any mind to what’s happening in the world around him. You knew you couldn’t stay with him, and let him continue ruining your life. So at the next moment you get, you free yourself from him and get a divorce, finally having a chance to breathe.

You were now alone with your toddler, and you knew you had to give her a life which seems perfect even without her father. She became your best friend, your whole world, your favorite person ever. Sage was a spitting image of you, a little enthusiastic kid but very clear at heart.

As much as you tried, you always felt the lack of another parent in Sage’s life. Even though she never showed it, a big smile always on her face as she was always playing around your house, you knew it was best she had two loving parents. But you were so busy with your job, and taking care of her, you never had a chance to go out on your own.

But then, almost like a hurricane, Rafe Cameron walked into your life. He occupied your mind like nothing else, and as you saw Sage loving his company more and more, you fell more for him, and he was very lovingly married into your family.

You never knew love can come knocking down your door at such odd times, when you had your child and no one seemed to take interest in you. But Rafe did. He loved you both with his entire heart, and changed your entire perspective on love.

This is the story of finding comfort and love when it seems the world has stopped spinning, when you feel you’re worthless, and you start to limit your own experiences. It’s about letting your door open for someone at a stage in life when it’s all too risky. It’s about trust, and letting yourself free from the chains you’ve so hurtfully wound yourself in.

SERIES CHAPTERS:

and so we meet - chapter 1

here we are again - chapter 2

familiar yet unrecognizable faces - chapter 3

the blue in your eyes - chapter 4

ONESHOTS:

BLURBS:

CONCEPTS:

HEADCANONS:

content warnings: as this is a wip, there isn't much to tell. but, I can assure it won't have any NSFW content in it, or any other dark themes. it may bring up drug addiction, but appropriate warnings will always specified at the start of each part so you can avoid what you don't want to read!

update: the series is now also being posted on wattpad! check it out here and follow me at _starkeyfilms if you feel like! <3

taglist: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @tahliac11 @sadfury @newsies-pape-girl @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @callsignwidow @starkowswife @rafeinterlude @rylie-m @zulema222 @karmasloverrr @leixwhite02 @congratsloserr @rubixgsworld @dilvcv @fandom-life-12 @drewstarkeyswifehoe @jjchaer @f4ll-for-you @fishingirl12 @wearemadeofstardust0 @drewsmusee @stvrligghtt @rafegirly @leighbronk @addriaenne @rafesdrew @bejeweledreverie @crgirlsworld @valenftcrush @lillywildly @julovesurmom @raf3sgff @drewstarkey1bae @aerangi @moneymaybank @spideysimpossiblegirl @the-tortured-poets-depxrtment @mellyie

please let me know if you would like to be added or removed!

edith speaks: oh my god! this idea is absolutely thriving in my docs and I knew it had to be so much more than just a fic so here it is!! I hope you all really enjoy reading this :) please keep on interacting with me through my asks, discussing headcanons about the fic, and any little thoughts you may have! it's my absolute favourite thing ever to talk about fics <3 you can always talk to me as an anon (I accept anon emojis!) or just as you want! 🤍

[yelenasdiary]

okay. i don’t send requests but i do talk to you a lot but i was wondering if i could request a wandanat comfort fic of just being worried about everything (and i mean everything) like every bad thing will happen. and r sees something on social media and digs deeper and freaks out even more

if you aren’t comfortable with this just delete it amd move on 🫶

Little Worry Pot

Pairing: WandaNat x GN! Reader

Summary: Wanda & Nat come home to find you stressing out. 

Tiny Angst, Fluff

Warnings: None, I don’t think? | 1.1K

Translations: Detka (baby),

AC: I hope it’s okay I used a personal experience for this! I used to get myself so worked up things like this, thank you for sending this! I hope you enjoy! x 

When Nat and Wanda came home, Wanda’s first chore was drying the soaked umbrellas before putting them away. The TV was left on, the local afternoon news report giving a weather update that both women ignored. Nat quietly went upstairs and knocked softly on the bedroom door before entering. She expected to see you taking a nap but instead, she saw the bed frame. 

“Wands!” Natasha called out before she wandered over to the ensuite bathroom. 

“Yeah?” Wanda called back. 

Slowly, Nat opened the bathroom door to an unexpected sight. There you were, in the bathtub with the mattress from the bed covering you. “Detka?” Nat questioned with a confused look, standing in the doorway. 

“Huh? Oh, Hey!” You peeped your head out from under the mattress with a slightly crazed smile. 

Nat did her best to bite back the chuckle she wanted to let out, “W-what, uh, what is this?” She asked just as Wanda entered the bedroom. 

“Did you guys not see the weather warning? I thought that’s why you guys were late home” you replied, slightly confused as to why your girlfriends weren’t worried about the worrying warnings you had read on Twitter before turning on the TV. 

���Darling, it’s just a thunderstorm” the red head did her best to assure you. Wanda stood beside her, looking at you with the same confused look that Natasha had. “My love, did you do that thing again where you dig deeper into a headline and scare yourself?” She asked. Your eyes shifted to Wanda, “no, I promise! This is serious! We could get a hurricane warning at any moment! You both should get in here, come on!” You replied, shifting in the bathtub to make room for your girlfriends. 

Wanda lightly chuckled, “you’re too adorable, but sweetheart, we live in New York City. We are more likely to get a hurricane than a tornado” 

Natasha gently nudged the brunette, “probably not a good idea to say that” she whispered. 

“Well, don’t just stand there! Get in!! A hurricane is much bigger than a tornado, please just get in the tub!” You begged. Natasha wandered over to you and kneeled down to meet your eyes, “how long did you spend online researching tornados?” She asked. Your eyes dropped slightly, a loud crack of thunder making you jump slightly. “A couple of hours” you admit. 

“And what is the rule we have when you start researching things?” 

“To stop when I start to stress myself out” 

Nat smiled softly and placed a soft kiss on your forehead, “this is just the same old thunderstorm we usually have” she reminded you. “B-but all the signs were there” you added, looking into her eyes. Gently, she cupped your cheek and stroked your skin softly with her thumb, “I promise you detka, if there was going to be hurricane, you would be the first person we kept safe. We would never let anything bad happen to you, ever.” Natasha assured you, not breaking eye contact. 

“Do you mean that?” You asked, just wanting to be completely sure. 

Wanda smiled softly as she kneeled down next to Natasha, “would it make you feel better if we sat down and came up with a safety plan in case such a thing were to happen?” She asked in a comforting tone. You nodded slowly, “I think that would be a good idea” you replied, pushing the mattress up. Nat helped you out of the tub before Wanda took you by the hand gently and took you into the kitchen.

She made you a hot chocolate as you sat at the island in the middle of the kitchen, listening to the rain hitting the roof while you twirled your thumbs around one another to try and ease your thoughts. “Honey, it’s okay” Wanda said softly, your eyes looking up at her, “we all have fears” she added, knowing what you were thinking. 

“Yeah but you and Nat don’t go crazy and convince yourself something bad is going to happen” you sighed. 

“That doesn’t mean we don’t think about it” the brunette replied. “Anytime we have to go on a mission without you, we worry so much about your safety. Even if you are with us, we can’t stop the millions of thoughts of ‘what ifs’ we just have different ways of dealing with them” she adds. 

You took a small sip of your hot chocolate as you listened to her words just before Natasha joined you both, taking a seat next to you. “Wands is right detka but let me tell something I’ve never shared with anybody before” she says. Wanda slightly tilted her head in confusion, her mind racking for what Nat could possibly be talking about. 

“Never? With anybody?” You looked at the red head. 

“Not a single soul” Nat assures you. 

“I’m curious” Wanda adds making Nat chuckle lightly. “Well, I have a massive fear of a mouse plage. Anytime I see a mouse, my mind goes to the thought of a plage” your girlfriend confesses. Your eyes slightly shifted to Wanda then back to Nat, “hey, unless you have seen the videos I’ve seen, don’t judge!” Nat quickly inserts herself. 

“Oh, I wasn’t judging Natty” you smiled ever so softly, “I’m just a little amused that tiny little mouses are your biggest fear” you added. 

“Just a heads up, I wouldn’t go into the garage, I think I saw a mouse in there the other day” Wanda teases, causing both you and her to chuckle. Nat didn’t take any offense to the little teasing that was just thrown at her, she got to see your smile once more and that made confessing her fear worth it. “Well, if I see it, it’s dead” Nat commented, chuckling along with you and Wanda. 

“Since we’re on the topic, I should confess that I have arachibutyrophobia and claustrophobia” Wanda says. Natasha slightly frowns, “you have a fear of having peanut butter stuck to the roof of your mouth? But you eat my sandwiches?” She asks. You couldn’t help but burst out laughing thinking about all the times Wanda pretended to eat a peanut butter sandwich and instead would use her magic to make it disappear.

“That’s what you think” Wanda smirked, then it hit Nat, “oh come on! I could’ve eaten them!” She replied. “I didn’t want to hurt your feels, I am sure your peanut butter sandwiches are amazing!” Wanda commented. 

Hearing both of your girlfriends open up to you about stuff you honestly never knew, really helped ease the worries you had given yourself. Going from being scared to worried that your partners would be tired of you doing this to yourself to being here and helping you, really showed you how much they love you. The kitchen was filled with light bickering and laughter before the three of you decided to go out for pizza for dinner.

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[bamgyw]

right, so he won.

we tend to be cynical and laugh him off, but it’s so painfully clear and scary how this ignorant fucking narcissist cosplaying as the poor man's idea of a wealthy man could become president of the united states—not once, but twice.

a man who seems barely literate, whose statements have been nothing but blatant, poorly constructed lies, yet he’s secured power. again. and while i can’t fully predict the implications, i know they don’t look good.

i fear for american citizens trapped in a dystopian neoliberal state where food is made of plastic and a lack of money can cost you your life on a hospital gurney.

i fear for europe, also scarred by fascism and blindly following the united states. every week for the past year, our prime ministers have appeared on television, warning us to prepare to defend our values in coming wars, most, if not all of which, are initiated by the u.s.

i fear for the palestinian people, undergoing a fucking genocide at the hands of israel—a state powered by the immense machinery of the american arms industry. if the u.s. withdrew its support, israel would be forced to stop. they're nothing. a flimsy geopolitical construct fuelled by pure evil. but like israel, the united states is a settler colony, built on the displacement, massacre, and erasure of the people who originally lived there. they both justify their actions as a divine mission for the land they claim was promised by god. imperialistic bullshit.

i fear that palestinians have lost their last glimmer of hope and the faint promise of a two-state solution that even kamala harris claimed to defend. flawed and half-hearted as it was, it at least held the possibility of a ceasefire.

i fear for trans and racialized people in the united states, who have become primary targets of brutal, baseless hate speech, a rhetoric now normalized among more than half the american electorate.

i’m not going to take the easy route—the classist one—and say that a bunch of uneducated rednecks voted for another uneducated redneck.

truth is, we’re living in unsafe times, and that fear makes us vulnerable to hoaxes, propaganda, and manipulation. education was supposed to be the antidote—the tool to help us see when politicians are lying, when a vulnerable group is scapegoated for society’s problems. and yet, here we are, repeating history. it’s been less than a century since world war II, and a fascist has been voted into power.

i don’t know why i felt the need to go off on this tangent, but this issue is global, and it’s genuinely terrifying. i don’t trust our politicians. it feels like being abandoned by a parent—the state, which is supposed to protect us, leaving us to fend for ourselves. we've seen that with hurricane milton, with the floods in valencia.

many of us have never had to experience extreme poverty or coexist with death, so it’s easy and fun to live blissfully unaware. but we’d better hope it stays that way. and i also hope that instead of letting our fear turn into paralyzing anxiety, we can make the effort of turning it into determined, militant anger.

and yeah… that’s about it, i think. there’s a lot i haven’t mentioned, a lot of people, a lot of rights lost today. but i haven’t slept. i’m really tired. gonna sleep bye.

[heavenmercy]

I never understood why people dont bring Gregory being interested on military stuff more. I remember loving Gregory because of the military aspects of his character.

I had studied War history and Military history for years, it's actually a big part of the things I'm interested in. I mostly specialize on the history of UK and France's side of it in past history. I also study on UK's Airforce during a specific era, the Supermarine Spitfires and Hawker Hurricanes are something I really really love.. And basically put that onto Gregory's interest too.

But anyways I really feel like people should point it out more! Gregory literally leads the revolution so prepared and is canon that he has done stuff like this before.

AND AND LOOK AT THESE LITTLE ARMY FIGURES I know that it's not implied of who own these, but I like to think they're Gregorys since he's the one handling them to tell the plans of where they should go and how the base is set up.

Another thing I found in detail is the song that comes up in the background when Gregory finds the La Resistance's hideout.

(Starts at 0:37)

I know, It might be a stretch, but to me it sounds so familiar (or at least inspired) by army marching music, it defiantly has the tone to it, which is a detail I adore and I never see anyone point it out before I also feel like it makes sense since the setting of the movie is... mostly about military and war themes, Gregory volunteers to be apart of this, defiantly has experience, knows what hes talking about, and has knowledge about it. (Note: He's also literally political about the American government and all the shit going on) And of course he knows Christophe who also very similarly is experienced in those topics too (I mean.. look at him) And the final part, is Gregory of course being inspired by Enjolras (Les Misérables) which is basically about the French Revolution War... (I know its not Military specifically but I really hope you get what Im putting down) I just love the details! I feel like Gregory is defiantly a military interest guy and loves taking charge of something he knows a lot about. I like the headcanon of it and how theres canon parts that can back it up. People kinda ignore it a lot... which is upsetting, since it's such a big part of his character. But of course, I won't put this as something people need to force into their headcanons and face it as 100% fact. I only find it disappointing that it's just a detail that is left neglected and barley even brought up.

(Old art coming in ew)

I remember featuring it on past Gregory artwork ... and I am considering just bringing it up again not only here but in future stuff as well. I dunno, I just wanted to ramble and I hope I had pointed out stuff that you didnt know about before!!

Military Gregory ily, they'll never make me hate you

[yogurtkags]

❝ WIND IN YOUR SAILS ❞ — iwaizumi hajime

cw. gn!reader, non-specified mental struggles, slight angst, hurt/comfort, implied that reader and iwa live together, can be taken as romantically or platonically (up to interpretation), not beta read. word count. 903

"i never felt it when i was young, i never knew where it came from, now i feel it like a hurricane, and it's so hard to stop the rain, it's so hard to stop."

sat on the smooth tile, you stare mindlessly at the drain collecting each strand of hair that’s fallen off your scalp as it swirls and swirls, and just when you think it’s going down, it stops — like a black hole sucking in everything living and dead, the good, the bad, except you, stuck on the cusp of destruction but left suspended in space, nothing but a speck in the cosmos and drifting around till your inevitable demise.

you rub and paw at your skin, desperately trying to scratch off the day’s, month’s, year’s, unhappiness, and unfulfillment, but all that comes out of it is dead skin trapped under your uneven nails, chewed off in countless anxious spiels over time.

what are you but a soul residing in a body that doesn’t feel like your own, method acting as what you believe to be yourself to get through each day, putting on a smile that doesn’t even come close to meeting your eyes, coming out more and more drained with very sunrise and sunset, you don't even know who you are anymore.

it burns, the scalding heat of the shower beating down on you from head to toe. it burns, the stinging sensation of water on the raw broken skin behind your knees. it burns, the aches in your fatigued muscles.

it burns.

it burns.

it burns.

yet at the same time, you feel absolutely nothing at all. it's an out of body experience, being a bystander in the course of your own life, staring, watching, but not being able to pull yourself in. you're staring at the culmination of all that you are, pathetically slumped against the fogged up glass of the cubicle. you almost want to laugh at your sorry state but alas, what else is new, it all boils down to the same old story of what you've been told and tell yourself time and time again, you're a disappointment.

you’ve long since lost count of just how many times this has happened — the one where you’d find yourself back here in the safety of the four walls of this shower cubicle, in the spotless bathroom. it’s no place for gloom and rain clouds, yet you find a home in these pale blue and white tiles. it’s always kept so unbelievably clean, and in some sick and twisted way, you hoped that one day the waters flowing from these faucets could miraculously cleanse you of every inch of filth and rot deep in your bones.

you don't notice your phone vibrating erratically against the closed lid of the toilet seat, you don’t notice the barrage of unread messages and missed calls. you don't notice the keys rattling against the lock of the front door, you don't notice it slam shut as it closes. you don't notice the urgent and rapidly approaching footsteps, you don't notice the bathroom door swinging open.

until he touches you.

it barely grazes your shoulder and your body goes into fight or flight in a recoil and flinching away, only to simmer down within the very same moment.

your mind, body and soul recognises the featherlight contact, a hand slowly but surely laying flat and caressing it's way down your arm, likened to light breeze tickling just the surface of your skin.

there’s no urgency, no rush, only gentle touches and calloused hands, just hajime.

“shh it’s just me,”

his words are soft yet his voice cuts through all the noise and reaches right to your senses. it’s comforting, akin to the sigh of relief escaping you after finally reaching shelter in the rain, a moment of peace in the midst of the storm, the pitter-patter of droplets slamming on concrete and asphalt reduced to nothing but a dulled tapping.

“sorry dove, didn’t mean to scare you.”

with slow movements and muted steps, the water is turned off and he crouches before you, delicately tucking the wet strands of hair plastered over your forehead to the side and behind your ears, revealing your face to him.

his usually firm gaze is softer around the edges, scanning your figure for any injuries. your eyes follow his, the left and right, up and down motions helping you focus and ground yourself, only letting it flutter shut once more when he gingerly presses a kiss to the center of your forehead.

pain is a constant, but so is hajime.

he knows that he can’t take away your pain, nor be the one to pull you out of it. it’s something that you have to overcome on your own, but as long as he’s alive, he’ll make sure that you’ll never be alone. and as he brings your hands up to loop around his neck and lifts your drenched limp body off the cold tile, you deflate in his strong arms, the weight of the world now resting upon both your shoulders. it’s still there, just not as heavy as before.

the warmth of his presence worms it’s way into the crevices of your weary heart, but it doesn’t burn you the way you expect it to.

it soothes, the drag of a thick, soft towel over your damp pruning skin. it soothes, the tender caress of a thumb across your cheekbone. it soothes, his steady heartbeat thrumming against yours.

it soothes.

it soothes..

it soothes...

and just maybe, it’ll be alright, even if just for a little while.

notes. this was unprompted, and very self indulgent— it may not be everyone’s favourite, but i hold it close to my heart </3 also psa i’m trying out the small text for this one, let me know if the original is easier on the eyes and i’ll swap it back

© yogurtkags. please do not repost, plagiarise, or translate my work.

[vintageseawitch]

this is what i think of when third party voters go around acting morally superior because they don't want to get their hands dirty like the rest of us. they're toddlers having temper tantrums because instead of using the system in a way that could benefit them in the long term like the extremist Republicans have been doing for decades, third party voters refuse to participate in local civics & then claim the entire country is already fascist. they're so cute in their naivety if they think the US can't get any worse.

what the fuck do you think will happen if you try to protest against a government with a military as massive, lethal, & expensive as ours. who do you think will be sacrificed first? oh what's that? crickets? thought so. i'm a white woman but i will absolutely use my voice to point out leftists can be racist as fuck & the anti-blackness in your spaces can be absolutely fucking wild. not everyone leftist is white, but many that are can be pretty problematic.

if you think i'm selfish then fine. if you state that you would gladly exchange my life for a Palestinian like one of you said in a comment to me a few weeks ago then fine. i'm out here fighting to make sure the people who live here in this country don't experience our own Holocaust.

if you have a problem with people wanting to fight this while claiming you're anti-genocide, you're a fucking liar & a hypocrite. you won't know what the fuck to do in a true fascist country. i don't doubt there are pockets of fascism already existing here but you thinking it's already the worst it can be is as infuriating as people who think the government is creating their massive hurricanes using weather machines. you sound just as childish & delusional. you already sound like children because you will never take responsibility for your choices if it ends up helping him win.

jill stein's campaign is a sham. she is deliberately running as a spoiler. she's a wealthy white woman who lives in a mostly white affluent neighborhood. she's going around lecturing black people about white supremacy. she is getting funds from Republicans as well as help from trump's lawyers. Lockheed Martin has given her money. she's involved in shady as fuck index funds for companies that harm the environment. she only started talking about Gaza during this election cycle to hit you in the feelings so she can bank on it. she made a whole stink about needing a recount, raised a bunch of money for that, & then that money disappeared who knows where. do you all hear this? do you care? no, you're just like maga with their orange Jesus. you don't give a FUCK about stein's red flags because she's "different."

if Harris loses & you blame anyone but yourselves, you're cowardly traitors who threw us regular Americans to the wolves because of your precious fucking principles. history has shown time & time again that protest voting typically allows something worse to take control. it's hardly ever beneficial to the people. you're vile. you don't want to make this world a better place by allowing so many near you to suffer & die. if both sides are the same then please tell me you're okay with another trump presidency. or just shut the fuck up.

i look forward to more potentially heartwarming messages saying that my life doesn't mean shit from people who allegedly are against the death penalty & are pro-human rights 🥰

please vote, don't stop talking about Project 2025, etc. i hope enough of us vote in a way that these pathetic third party voters don't gain any kind of traction. at this point i'm just angry at their hypocrisy when they don't even listen to other protestors who live here & are begging them to not vote third party. i refuse to listen to y'all not take responsibility for your part. Project 2025 will hurt us all but apparently you're okay with that or you think it's already here. smooth brain takes all around. anyways good luck & stay safe to anyone who votes blue 💙

[fanficsbysteve]

To Live In Hearts We Leave Behind

Authors Note: I was feeling my angst when I decided that I needed to write this. Hopefully everyone forgives me for this. I’ll post more happy stuff soon I promise (I have half a dozen WIPs going). The title is from a quote by Carl Sagan.

Summary: Its been 4 years. Evan decided that he was going to visit Tommy.

Rating: G

W/C: 1201

Also available on AO3

***

Evan sat on a blanket, absently trying to smooth it out over an uneven ground. He had done this same ritual every year for the past four years, and he would likely continue to do it every year until the day he could no longer come.

In front of him was a headstone, simple marble, no adornments besides a little sconce on the side to hold flowers, with black lettering, ‘Thomas Kinard II, Loving Husband and Friend. 1984 – 2030’. Evan had to come visit Tommy every year, multiple times a year, but today was important. It was their tradition, “Hey Tommy,” he said as he reached out and laid a hand on the cold stone, there was a light dusting of frost on the top still, it had gotten cold overnight and the sun hadn’t reached this part of the cemetery yet to melt it away, “Another year come and gone since you left me. You would have been 50 this year, old man,” Evan laughed.

“I miss you everyday since you left,” Evan continues, “I know it’s not your fault. Everything just happened to unfold in such a way that you were taken from me well before you should have been,” a single tear rolls down Evan’s face, “It just sucks. I had so many plans for us. We’d retire, we would travel the world. See the ruins in Greece, visit some castles around the world. Now I’m a 43 year old widow.”

The tears started to fall from Evan’s eyes in earnest. It happened like this every year when he came to visit Tommy, he would try to remain brave and strong, but would always end up breaking down into tears within minutes of talking, “Why did you have to be the one to go? Why didn’t Lucy or any of the other Harbor pilots? Why did you have to go into that storm that night? You were an experienced pilot, you’ve flown into a hurricane, so you know what you are doing. So why did you have to not come back to me?”

The tears were falling freely now, “They’ve never told me exactly what happened. Just that you went down. I don’t even have answers. They say we were lucky to even get you back after, that your body just ended up floating back to the shore after the storm passed. But,” Evan went and hugged the headstone, “One day I hope to see you again. Then when we are sitting together again, you can tell me what really happened that day.”

“Maddie has been trying n to set me up,” Evan continued, “Men and women. I just don’t know if I feel ready. It’s been 4 years, but I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to move on. You completed me, and I feel I won’t experience even 1/100 of what you made me feel. We were each others soul mates. That won’t ever be erased.”

“I know if you were actually here you would be telling me that it would be OK,” the tears had stopped, but his voice was strained, his throat constricted by his sadness, “That you don’t want to see me sad and alone. You would want me to be happy with someone. And I love you for that. I just don’t know if I could.”

Evan chuckled, “Talking to you does help some with the sadness and the loneliness. Brings it down a little. But it’s still so lonely at home without you. I still have Pickles and Marlon. But our bed is so large and so empty without you.”

Evan sighed, “Maybe I just need a sign. A sign that you want me to go ahead with dating. If you approve of it then maybe I won’t feel so guilty,” Evan looked around, “Any sign will do,” At that moment a small blue Jay landed on Tommy’s headstone. Evan smiled. Unbeknownst to most people who knew him, Tommy had a small tattoo of a blue jay on his left shoulder blade. He said that it symbolized protection and luck. And that it was that luck that brought them together, “That’s a sign I guess,” Evan continued to smile.

“Fine,” Evan looked at the headstone, “I’ll see about going out on maybe one or two dates. But don’t you think I’m going to just start forgetting about you. I have to find you again in whatever the next life brings.”

Evan reached into a bag he brought with him, “Oh before I forget,” Evan pulled out a couple items. Some flowers because, while Evan didn’t like the idea, leaving flowers at a grave was a tradition. Tommy wasn’t a flower person but they did look nice, “I know you don’t like them, and prefer them to be left in the ground but they do make it nice for when others visit you. I know that Lucy and Sal come by sometimes. Hen, Chim and Bobby do as well. Eddie comes when he can but he has his family in Texas now,” Evan put the flowers into the holder that was attached to the side, “Did I tell you? Him and Mariella are expecting a baby. Chris is so excited to have a sibling.”

Evan also placed a small helicopter on the front of the grave, “I also brought you this. To remind you, and everyone who comes by just who you are. You are the most badass pilot that ever flew over the skies of Los Angeles.”

Evan smiled at himself as he traced Tommy’s name on the headstone, “Are you waiting for me in the afterlife?” Evan asked, “I want to think so. I want to think that you are watching me right now, laughing at me because of my superstitions.”

Evan started to cry again, “God I miss you so much,” He scooted across the blanket to lean his head against the headstone, “I know I shouldn’t but I do. And I’ll never stop.”

Evan sat there, head against the cold stone for another 15 minutes, tears silently falling, before he sat back, “Well I have to get going, my love,” He started to pack his blanket up, “Maddie and Chim have invited me over to their house for dinner. Jee also needs help from her favourite uncle on a paper she is writing for English class.”

“I’ll come visit you again soon,” he was standing now, “I’ll update you on my dating adventures next time.”

Evan brought his hand up to his mouth and gave it a gentle kiss before placing it back on the headstone, “I’ll love you forever and always.”

Evan grabbed his bag and started to walk towards the truck that was parked in the distance. Evan had kept Tommy’s truck for all these years. It still worked so why get rid of it. Keeping the memories around helped Evan. Once reaching the truck, Evan pulled open the door, tossed the bag with his blanket and various other knickknacks into the backseat, put on his seatbelt, and drove off, already planning his next visit.

***

Note: Just something short I had to get out of my head. Hopefully it makes sense. I was just thinking of something angsty and this whole idea said “Hey you should write a fic that had Buck and Tommy happy and in love, and then Tommy dies and Buck has troubles moving on.” Please don’t hate me, I just had to get this idea out of my head. I promise I'll post happier stuff soon (and the last chapter of my smut story comes on Wednesday). I have a few WIPs I've finished work on and just need to edit.

As always, comments and likes are appreciated.

[marabarl-and-marlbara]

Hi Mara,

I wanted to say that all of your writing feels extremely genuine, and I am inspired by the honesty and detachment in your retrospective posts, especially when talking about personal—external—influences. I rarely hear others say that their interest in X is simply gone, or admit that they like(d) Y because the ‘context’ seemingly urged them to. A pattern I often notice instead is personal attachment and the unwillingness to let go of ideas and things which no longer resonate or never really have in the first place.

I wish it was easy to distill all of one’s experiences and likes, remember why and how they came to be, be honest as to how one felt about them, separate the wheat from the chaff, and arrive at something that feels truly genuine and ‘you’.

It feels reductive and probably comes with projection on my part, but that’s the impression I get.

Hope the storm didn’t affect you and your family too much.

Good morning, anonymous--thank you very much for such a kind message!

I wrote about this more vaguely in last months subscriber post, reflecting on "how nothing seemed to scare me" lately and how baffling it seemed that people thought Stephen King's Apt Pupil was a terrifying horror story, and incidentally had been thinking about this during the period of having power but having no internet after Hurricane Milton--I had all these videogames I tried to play but realized they all felt completely boring and uninteresting without something to listen (my favorite streamer, my favorite podcast) to while playing (and in turn, that I needed to be doing something somewhat stimulating while listening to something); I had all these anime shows I could be watching, too, but again little interest because they were all just dead boring--and all I could really manage for myself were to read Henry James and rediscover my old Longmont Potion Castle collection to listen to until internet came back;

but, I don't know how much the genuine 'you' matters; I think about something a sculpture professor told me about the hippies and an adage they had that went kill your parents, and the professor added that it was meant not (always) literally, but to disentangle yourself from 'the origin' or: maybe: the most sacred and profane feelings you see yourself as being a-part of;

realizing I basically have zero interest in being an artist might have been a big hurdle for me to disentangle from way-back in Wilderness when I had some ego-fear of losing my identity as Marabarl and what that entailed: divulging everything about myself, being self destructive, seeming crazy, and using it all as oil to art--severing that all seemed like it would drive me more lonely and leave me with nothing but some bare-dry stick of a person that'd few people would be interested in (but glimpsing at this idea also spoke to how 'being an artist' had little to do with my own desire and more to do with maintaining 'connection' with 'invisible others'). I don't know if killing my parent there had left me a more true version of myself, but it severed connections I mostly kept entwined by wholly out of fear of the loneliness or of letting go of a familiar rot and pain. I'm far more boring than the older Mara, because really now all I'd like to do is go to my weekly sandwich shop, cook, clean, read, listen to audiobooks, be monotonously religious, and try to write bad fiction that I never finish because I keep rewriting the same few parts for months at a time.

There's a quote from a book I finished a few days ago, For Thy Great Pain Have Mercy On My Little Pain, by Victoria Mackenzie, that I really loved:

"When the day begins, we say that it is breaking. So with my life. Part of me had to be taken into pieces before I could truly start to live. For in my shewings Jesus had said, 'I shall shatter you for your vain passions and your vicious pride; and after that I shall gather you together and make you humble and meek, pure and holy, be oneing you to me.'

My will was broken and I am glad of it. I am only a thing that moves this broom and sweeps the curled leaves and corpses of insects from one side of my cell to the other."

Each layer of myself, as it seems with age, starts to seem more-and-more to be a vanity that I hold to myself well-after it has separated and shed, out of fear and comfort for the more simple figure that is underneath--morosely, I start to really believe the purest part of my-self comes with death when all has been shed away wholly and the carcass is left as the most simple and un-connected atom of Me, and for others: when the Left are shred out to ash and the Right are ate up to heaven; tears and emotion for the dead, too, a type of vanity over wishing that lost other to not be gone from the identity yet though it is truly just another vain callous now shed and clung-to: Dieth and Daniela who I keep getting mad at in fear of letting go-of;

but even in more simple ways--remembering old loves towards things like Narutaru and not wanting to let go because of how fond and warm they felt just a few years ago, and keeping that old passion around like it were furniture that had gone decrepit past any real function except favor; although, during Hurricane Milton, again between time of Power but no Internet, I rewatched some of FLCL and .hack//sign and wished I could be rewatching Hey Arnold's scary episodes--cause really no-matter how much I think I'm capable of letting go of things that seem all vain, boring, and worthless to the simple self, I am a simple creature who wants comfort in the familiar and to things I've loved and felt loved by. And, luckily, I still love Boogiepop! (I think it's easier to keep a love for those things around because they don't really remind me of bad-times as Narutaru does, but I'd like to always keep an effort to keep Hiroko and cute little Ensof in my heart)

Take care.

[brighteyedbushybrowed]

okay I’m hoping this makes sense, the papa witht a s/o that is scared of sleeping, like sleeping makes them super anxious and it’s hard for them to sleep comfortably

It makes sense anon, dw!! I've been in that position before, so I will somewhat be writing from my own experience for these headcanons <3

𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐨

Primo gets this completely, and he's incredibly patient and kind

He makes you cups of herbal team to help calm your nerves

Will stay awake with you until you doze off

Stays by your side the whole time so that he's there for you if you wake up in a panic

He'll reassure you and try to help you rationalise anything that's playing on your mind and making you feel anxious

Primo also has a supply of the most comfortable pillows and blankets he keeps in a cupboard for whenever you wish to stay over in his room

If he's particularly worried about you and your lack of sleep, he'll suggest going to the doctor's or a therapist with you to help with your anxiety around sleep

Always has fresh lavender in his room as he knows it can be a very relaxing, calming scent that helps people sleep easier

𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨

Also a tea man

As someone who could sleep through a hurricane, Secondo perhaps doesn't understand as much as Primo does

Don't get me wrong, he does understand. Just not to the extent that Primo does because of how heavy he sleeps and having never had difficulty sleeping at night

He does, of course, support you through it and has learned various grounding techniques for when your anxiety starts to spike at bedtime

He keeps a dossette box of sleeping pills in his en suite bathroom for nights where other methods of getting you to sleep don't work, but he only uses these as a last resort when literally nothing else works

Secondo will also stay awake with you until you drift off. He makes sure that he holds you the whole time, even if it results in him sleeping in waht others would consider uncomfortable positions such as sitting up against a headboard

While Primo is a lavender guy, Secondo is a scented candle guy

He gets a shit ton of scented candles of your favourite scents and will light them while you both do your bedtime routine so that you have a calming scent to focus on

𝐓𝐞𝐫𝐳𝐨

Terzo is the first person to tell you that you need to talk about your anxiety with a professional

He'll get you in touch with one of the therapists from the Ministry, he'll even pay for you to go to the best therapist in town if you'd prefer not to talk to someone who works in the abbey

He's going to be there with you all the way

He'll help you rationalise your anxious thoughts and worries surrounding going to sleep and even encourages you to keep a sleep diary

He might also encourage you to try and sleep by downloading Pokemon Sleep onto your phones so that it's like you're getting rewarded for sleeping

He's all cuddles and cooing and soothing words if you get upset at the prospect of sleeping

He's going to stay awake as long as possible even after you fall asleep in case you wake up in the night and need him to comfort you

He'll position you so that you're laying on top of him when you sleep, his arms wrapped around you protectively as he softly sings lullabies and songs to remind you that he's there, he's not going anywhere, and he loves you deeply

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐚

You and Copia are kindred spirits in these regards

He's no stranger to fitful nights of tossing and turning, being too scared to fall asleep in case the nightmares return and haunt him once again

Talking you through your own anxiety around sleep is what makes him realise that he needs help too and that he can't be giving you all of this advice if he doesn't take it himself

Will attend therapy with you

Talks about his own experiences and anxiety and fears so that you don't feel like you're going through this on your own

On those nights where neither of you can sleep, he invites Aether for a sleepover so that he can use his quintessence powers to give you both a dreamless sleep for the night

Copia probably has a giant tub full of various herbal teas Primo has given him to help with sleep that he's never used until you came along

You both often have nighttime video game marathons on the nights where you can't sleep and don't want to bother Ather. You both end up waking the next morning with the game over screen flashing at you, game controllers abandoned on the blankets, and your bodies intertwined

[onthinice-k]

Little Do You Know - F. Andersen

It’s finally done! This fic was written for the Winter Fic Exchange 2k24 hosted by @wyattjohnston and is for @mp0625. It was a nice challenge to write a reader insert for the first time, I had a lot of fun creating this story and I hope you enjoy readiit just as much!

Also, everyone be warned, I didn’t look at a single calendar or any actual game scores. I just did what felt right and hoped for the best. Also, don’t think too closely about the reader’s job. I have no idea how it actually works, I just put a lot of imagination and confidence into writing it. There also is a guest appearance of Seth Jarvis.

Summary: Suddenly working for the Carolina Hurricanes wasn't how you'd thought your year would end. Everything that followed was just as surprising.

Pairing: Frederik Andersen x f!reader (no mentions of y/n)

Words: 11.9k (I’m sorry, this was planned to be like 3k words at most?? I have no idea what happend)

Warnings: a few swear words? Reader is described as shorter than Freddy, otherwise no physical descriptions. It might sound just a little angsty at the beginning, but it's really not; mostly fluff and maybe some light hurt/comfort

.

.

Jane's grin should have been enough to make you suspicious.

It was one evening, after another long shift at work and overtime that you would probably never see the pay for.

Even without looking at her, you knew the look Jane would give you. One of those pitying ones that made you a little more defensive than you should’ve been - a constant reminder that perhaps the year hadn't exactly been perfect.

But that didn't automatically mean Jane was right. It wasn't as bad as it could have been, you had once tried to tell her once. You were happy. No, really.

Sure, the breakup at the beginning of the year had been long and accompanied by a lot of shouting and tears. At the beginning you had been so sure that he was the one - only to be disappointed once again a few months later. But you could always use that as a learning experience, couldn’t you? Jane didn't know what she was talking about when she’d said that you seemed lonely sometimes. Better alone than with the wrong person, right?

And sure, the water damage to the apartment wasn't ideal either. But at least the only thing that couldn’t be saved was the kitchen. Everything else just needed time to dry and, well, maybe a new coat of paint. Two weeks later you had managed to find a new place to move into with your best friend, Jane.

Maybe she wasn’t entirely wrong about your job being more than miserable. Seemingly endless overtime and the salary just enough to make ends meet.

Maybe Jane had a point, even though you hated to admit it.

You weren't unhappy per se. But maybe, just maybe, there was still room for improvement.

And now it was December.

Jane had gotten a telltale glint in her eyes when you both realized that. Less than four weeks left to end the year on a good note.  Or maybe you should just wait for the next one and hope it’ll get better. So, with a shrug of your shoulders, you'd put the thought aside for the moment.

Her grin should’ve made you suspicious. But instead, it was already forgotten by the next morning.

–   

"Jane!" Your voice was far too loud considering she was sitting barely a meter away.

"Hm?" Jane looked up from her book, confused, maybe a little worried. You weren’t paying enough attention right not to get a good read on her expression.

You couldn't believe your eyes. Even after reading the text for the third time, you wanted to pinch yourself. Hard. This had to be a strange dream.

The words blinking up at you from the screen seemed unbelievable.

"Did you- Did you submit my application with- to the- the Carolina Hurricanes?!"

Jane seemed to process your words in her head. Then understanding began to spread across her face.

Your mouth kept opening and closing, but no words came out. You didn't even know what you would have, should’ve, said. What was a normal response in this situation?

Jane straightened up a little and leaned toward you. She was looking over your shoulder at the laptop.

"Oh, they were faster than I expected."

"How... What..."

Sure, you'd complained to her just the other day that the youth team you'd applied to had suddenly realized they didn't have the budget for a full-time position after all. The interview at the equipment store on the other side of town left a lot to be desired after their first question was how much overtime you could put in per month.

But this? You’d never have expected that.

"Are you crazy?" Your voice was still unexpectedly shrill.

“It’s not a rejection letter”, she sounded a little too proud for your liking.

You squinted your eyes at her.

“Then I would’ve killed you. After burying myself out of embarrassment.”

"Oh, come on. You have to admit, it sounds perfect for you," Jane simply shrugged her shoulders. Leaning back again, she looked a lot calmer than you felt.

Nevertheless, you did have to admit that it sounded almost perfect. Often you had helped out with the equipment in small teams in the past and had always enjoyed the work. It was close to the action without being in the foreground.

But still.

"I can't believe you." You slumped back against the couch and ran your fingers through your hair. "This is crazy. You’re crazy..."

Jane sighed. "Hey, if you're not interested, don't answer." Then she turned back to her book.

She made it sound so easy.

"I didn't say that!" you defended yourself immediately.

Jane snorted, then at least a brief twitch of the corner of her mouth.

–  

Your hands were shaking as you pushed open the nondescript door. It had all happened so fast.

Someone had called you the very next morning.

It was all so unbelievable that you could barely remember the phone call.

 "It's a temporary position, but it needs to be filled quickly," the man on the phone had said, that much you could recall - immediately followed by the question of when you could start.

Apparently, someone had gotten sick after they were already understaffed and so they urgently needed someone to fill in.

Your experience at the small hockey center in your hometown had probably paid off after all. While growing up you had helped the coach, who trained the children’s hobby group, with the equipment.

In return, he always gave you old skates and sticks that were once forgotten by someone and never got picked up so you could try them out during your own team’s training.

Maybe they also decided on you because they just didn’t have many applicants with previous experience of any level available at such short notice. But who knew. And really, you didn’t really care either way.

Especially as just a few hours after the call you were now following hurriedly written down directions through the corridors of the arena that you had previously only seen as a visitor. 

Anthony, whose first words had been "Call me Tony", had been awaiting you already. His tour of the most important rooms was not only packed with way too much information but also constantly interrupted by other people’s questions and demands.

Nevertheless, Tony remained friendly and patient with them as well as you, even when you had forgotten which direction you had come from for the third time in a row. Once or twice, he might even have stifled an amused grin.

"Let me just show you the storage rooms and then..."

"Anthony," an older man interrupted from the side. He had his arms crossed over his chest and a grim expression on his face.

An official-looking ID was hanging around his neck.

Tony grimaced at the use of his full name.

"What is it now?" he asked, barely able to hide his annoyed voice under a wavering polite smile. It was the first time you'd seen Tony anything other than friendly today. It was almost weird.

The man didn't really look at Tony, but rather past him, even though the words were clearly directed at Tony. "The sticks are all mixed up." The accusatory tone in his voice was clear, as if Tony had personally caused the mess.

"We don't know what belongs to whom."

Tony sighed. "Of course, you don't", he muttered so quietly that only you could hear the words. However, the other man would have been able to see the hint of an eye roll hadn’t he turned away again, apparently to grumble at the next person.

"Don't let Mike intimidate you," Tony explained, turning back to you, "in case he ever snaps at you. He likes to feel more important than he is." He rolled his eyes with a wry grin.

Someone hesitantly tapped Tony’s shoulder. This time a young man, who looked like he'd just graduated high school.

"Sorry, I know you're busy - I don't mean to interrupt - but, uh, a strap on a goalie pad broke."

Anthony ran a hand over his forehead. "Another one? Shit."  He exhaled noisily. "That's the third one in two days. It has to be a production error. Has the manufacturer responded to the complaint yet?"

The boy's eyes widened, and he shrugged his shoulders helplessly.

Mike called impatiently for Anthony from the next room. Torn, he turned briefly at the voice, then looked back at the boy next to him. "They probably need the goalies for training right now?"

The boy nodded shyly: "They said it was urgent."

Anthony sighed again.

Then he looked at you with a wry grin: "Looks like you'll get something to do sooner than expected."

He got handed a paper from someone walking past him. While searching for something on it he continued talking.

"We only have a few pads left in stock. The new order hasn't arrived yet and we need the ones we still have for the game tonight. Do you know how to sew?" He looked up.

"A little?" Your grandparents had taught you a long time ago, but it wasn't something you had to do regularly in your daily life.

"Great, that should be enough for now. It doesn't have to be pretty, as long as it does the job."

Anthony patted you on the back approvingly. Then he left you standing alone in the hallway, his exit accompanied by another long "Anthony" yell.

You were left standing there. Uncertainly you looked at the young man next to you.

He shrugged his shoulders just as unsure. He murmured quietly: "In that room over there." With a finger, he pointed at a door.

Well, then you should probably get to work. 'That room over there' really wasn't hard to find. It was only a few meters away.

What you didn't expect, however, was to almost walk into a huge man as soon as you entered the room. You always knew that hockey players tended to be quite tall, but it still took you by surprise.

You had to tilt your head back to look the man in the face. Of course, having lived here long enough you knew all the players on the team, at least by name. You weren't some crazy fan but at least invested enough to watch the games whenever you had the time. For your last birthday you had even gotten tickets to watch one live in the arena. It had been great.

Now you were faced with a certain goalie. Stubborn ginger strands fell into his face, his cheeks slightly flushed from training or the cold. Television did not do him justice at all.

Stay professional, you had to order yourself. This was your job. You couldn't mess it up, especially not on the first day.

Frederik looked up. He ran his eyes over your form for a moment. Then he tilted his head. "You're not Tony," his voice sounded unexpectedly soft.

"Oh, uh, no. I'm new here. First day today." Wow, very smooth. Good job.

If Freddie thought the same, he didn't let on. Quite the opposite. He openly watched you, his mouth twisted into a crooked grin. "Well, in that case. Welcome."

You mumbled a "Thank you."

A brief silence filled the room. While you reminded yourself to get yourself under control, you could still feel his appraising gaze on you - not hostile, just curious.

"How do you like it so far?" You could see little lines forming around his eyes as he smiled at you.

"I mean, a map would be helpful. All these corridors are like a labyrinth," you tried to joke.

Freddie laughed. "Oh yeah. You don't want to know how many times I got lost in here at first."

Maybe he was just saying that to make you feel better. However, you decide not to question it and just let the words calm you down a little.

"Are you almost done?" a woman poked her head into the room. Her stern features were emphasized by her narrow glasses. She reminded you of a strict principal scowling at running students.

You were almost certain you'd seen her in the corridors earlier today. Maybe Tony had told you her name and position, but if so, you'd already forgotten again. For the first dozen names you had made an honest effort to memorize them. The numerous ones following after that were buried in the sea of information that had poured in on you in a very short space of time.

"Oh yes, almost done," you grinned at the woman as convincingly as possible.

With a skeptical look, she let her eyes wander back and forth between Freddie, you and finally the pad, still hanging down loosely on his leg.

"Hurry up”, she ordered. You nodded dutifully.

When she had disappeared again, you breathed a sigh of relief. Her eyes had literally bored right through you and left you feeling a little uncomfortable. Freddie had squirmed under her eyes just as much.

You didn’t want to risk her turning up here again.

"I think I'll go and get some stuff. To fix that."

Freddie nodded patiently.

Huh.

Well. There was just one problem.

"You wouldn't happen to know where they store needles around here, would you?"

Again, the corners of his mouth pulled to the side in amusement. "Aren't you the one working here?" He was obviously just teasing you, but your cheeks immediately felt a little warmer, nevertheless.

"Right."

In the end, Freddie did help by searching through the drawers in the small cupboard behind him while you examined the rest of the room.

Once needle and thread were found, the work was done quickly. The strap was tight again. It should hold on for the next few hours at least. The stern-looking woman had walked past the room a few more times – more than necessary in your opinion – as you had noticed out of the corner of your eye. However, she had not re-entered the room.

Freddie and you had had some simple conversations on the side so the work had gone by quickly. He had asked your name and where you came from.

All in all, your first job could have gone a lot worse. You were almost a little proud of yourself.

Maybe this was all quite doable after all.

-

It was terrible.

You couldn't remember the last time you'd walked so much, feeling your feet ache with every more step you took. By the time just half of your shift had been over, your legs were already heavy.

Once the game had started, the processes seemed a lot more structured.

The rather hectic running around of the afternoon was replaced by a lot of counting and carrying things from one place to another.

With all the work, you almost missed the end of the game completely.

However, the disappointment was hard to miss. It put deep creases in everyone’s faces; reflected in the way shoulders slumped and voices were muffled.

Losing again after a long winning streak probably always hit everyone hard.

Tony and you got handed the equipment to be washed and dried.

At least one thing hadn't changed though. All sorts of people still wanted something from Tony. He had mumbled to you "I'll be back in a moment", only to definitely not come back after a moment.

Afraid of getting lost for good, you decided to wait here for him anyway.  

Everyone around you seemed to have clear tasks that they were silently following. It was almost strange to see the corridors so quiet, in contrast to a few hours earlier.

No matter where you stood, you had the feeling that you were interfering with the routines of other workers and so you gradually ended up further and further to the end of the narrow hallway. Not knowing exactly where you were was nothing new today. However, this time you were pretty sure this corner hadn’t been in Tony’s tour. 

One by one, players came around a corner. They walked past you individually or in small groups. Very few of them probably really noticed you. Their mood was also noticeably subdued.

You weren't entirely sure whether you were happy to see Freddie again as he slowly stepped around the corner, or whether you would’ve preferred not to see the disappointed look on his face.

You gave him what you hoped was an encouraging smile.

For a brief moment, the corners of his mouth lifted, a hint of a crooked grin as he had almost passed you, but as quickly as it had appeared, it vanished again.

He exhaled forcefully. The heaviness in his eyes returned.

With a long breath, you watched his slowly shrinking figure.

No longer could you stand being in the hallway. You had seen enough disappointed faces for one day. A door caught your eye. It was held open by a chair jammed into the doorway. The cool light falling through the opening was brighter than the ceiling lights.

You dared to take one last look over your shoulder, Freddie had already disappeared from your view. And there was still no sign of Tony. So, you crossed the corridor with slow steps.

The door led directly to the spectator stands. It had apparently been opened after everyone had left the arena.

You let yourself fall against the door frame.

After a quick glance over the seating area, your gaze fell onto the ice surface. Your heart ached in your chest. Before, you hadn't realized how much you missed being on the ice yourself - or you had successfully pushed it to the back of your mind. Only now, when you were so close to it, did the longing come back to you in full force.

"Do you have skates?" The voice so close to your ear made you jump. Lost deep in thought you hadn’t noticed when Tony had appeared next to you.

"What?"

"Do you have skates," he repeated more slowly, "I have to be honest. I'd be a bit disappointed if I had to find out like this that you don't own any." He flashed an amused grin at you.

You frowned. "Yes, of course. I mean, I have relatives in Canada. They'd probably disown me if I didn't."

"Then what's stopping you from taking a few laps on the ice?"

He shrugged as if it were that simple. It couldn't be that simple.

"What? But no, I can't do that..." You found it difficult to find the right words. You didn't even know what you were trying to say yourself.

"The way you look at the ice longingly, it'll melt away otherwise," Tony teased.

You couldn't help but roll your eyes. "No, but really. Is that allowed?"

"Yep," Tony pointed over his shoulder. "Back there on the list are the times when the ice is free. As long as you don't mind the ice not being fresh, of course."

You could hardly believe what Tony was telling you. There was actually a possibility that you could skate on the ice? It’d been so long since you had skates on your feet. It’s been even longer since you’d last held a hockey stick.

When you thought about what it would be like to practice again after so long, a yearning overcame you.

"Nobody else usually uses it on Mondays and Wednesdays." Tony gave you a significant look.

-

The ice had obviously been heavily used. It couldn't have bothered you less.

The first step on the ice was shakier than you expected. And it still felt so relieving. Like rediscovering one of your favorite childhood sweets years later. Or finding change in your pockets that you’d already forgotten about.

Your face beamed with joy, becoming more relaxed with every step. After two laps around the arena, it felt as familiar as before. Your chest rose and fell at a fast pace.

Even after another ten minutes, you were still alone on the ice. When Tony had said no one else usually used the free ice time on Mondays, he hadn't been exaggerating.

You were still a little unsure before, but now you took the stick you had brought with you and a few pucks that were still in a bucket on the side from the last training session.

The last time you’d played hockey was even longer ago than the last time you’d skated. So, it wasn't surprising that you missed the net a lot the first few tries. The times you did hit the goal, however, felt all the better.

The skillful shots from your youth, when you still had time to go to training regularly, no longer worked nearly as well. In the past, you could’ve done them blindfolded.

Adult responsibilities however got in the way at some point, so you were glad that you were still able to attend a hobby group at least once a month until last year. And it paid off. After a short time, the stick no longer felt so strange in your hand. Maybe Hockey was a bit like riding a bike. You would never quite forget how to do it.

You almost missed the other person coming onto the ice.

Even without his number on his back, you could’ve identified him without a doubt. To be fair, there probably weren't that many people walking around in professional goalie gear. Especially those with access to the ice and a Canes logo on their chest.

Without a doubt: Frederik Andersen had just stepped onto the ice. The exact ice you were standing on.

Uncertain you looked back and forth between the exit and him. You were sure you hadn't misread the time on the list. The clock on the wall also told you that you hadn't just been here much longer than you thought.

Still, should you leave the ice? If he was here, he probably wanted to practice. You'd just get in the way.

After the game on your first day on the job, the Canes lost two more games. And as always happens, critical voices immediately got loud on the internet. Even if you hadn't looked any further, you could imagine what they said about Freddie – hopefully, he followed the media team's advice not to read any of it.

Freddie looked at you for a moment. Then he crossed the ice. However, instead of heading for the other half of the ice as you’d have expected, his path led straight into the net on your side.

Fascinated, you watched as he stretched and moved in quick order. Finally, he straightened up again, leaned forward and tapped the ice several times with his stick.

You looked at him in confusion. But when he then flicked a puck across the rink towards you with his stick, it was a more than clear invitation.

In this moment you were so glad to have had some time to warm up before he arrived.

Your first shots at the net were careful. And apparently, they were way too predictable and easy for Freddie, as he blocked each of them with ease. He didn't even look strained in the slightest.

You took it as a challenge.

The next shots were more confident. You even started to skate a few steps towards the net on each of them, instead of standing rigidly in the middle of the ice.

However, after a lost puck on the way to the net elicited a playfully disappointed shake of the head from Freddie, you made it your mission to mix in a particularly bad shot every few tries. Freddie’s reaction made it more than worth it.

If you looked very closely, you imagined you could even see the smirk under his mask every time.

In the end, you didn't know how long you’d played for.

When Freddie pushed his mask up, a few strands of hair were sticking to his forehead. His features were more relaxed than any of the last times you'd seen him here. It looked good on him.

As you went your separate ways again, he gently nudged you with his shoulder. The smile lingered on your lips for a long time.

– 

"Do you think the small suitcase will be enough for three days?"

Jane looked at you over her shoulder. "Are you going on a trip? Without me?" She clutched her chest dramatically.

"There are a few away games coming up. And I'm supposed to come with them”, you explained. Your nerves must be written all over your face.

"Not that I think I'm really going to be that much help.", you added.

You had only just started to feel like you were slowly getting used to the work in the arena. By now, you could count on one hand how many times you got lost in the seemingly never-ending hallways of the arena in a shift. Even all the tasks no longer appeared as overwhelming as they did at the beginning.

Still, it had taken you days to even come close to finding your way around the arena. Even now, you kept discovering new rooms that you had never seen before.

Now, arriving in a completely foreign arena? You'd never seen how away games were run behind the scenes. And now you were supposed to help out yourself. Over the last days carefully established routines to make work easier would have to be broken again.

"Oh yeah, I totally forgot that you're super important now," she teased.

As if. "Hardly. More like the assistant to the assistant."

As you turned back to your bedroom, Jane called after you: "I’m sure it won't be as bad as you think."

Packing took longer than expected. This was probably partly due to the fact that you kept placing stuff in your suitcase just to take it out again minutes later. Should you pack a fifth sweater after all? Would one spare pair of pants be enough or maybe take the black ones with you as well?

By the time you had loaded your bags into your car, you were on the verge of being late. Enough time for you to arrive on time, not enough to get stuck in traffic or spend ages looking for a parking space.

However, you didn’t even get that far.

Your car made a tired stuttering noise before it fell silent again. The same sound was heard on the second attempt. By the third turn of the key, your fingers were already getting clammy.

"Damn it. That can't be true now." Try again. This time the engine only made a muffled scraping sound.  "No, no, no!"

You dropped your head against the steering wheel. Frustration rose up inside you.

Another sharp turn. Your hand clutched the armrest. You preferred not to look too closely at the speed limit. Jane ignored your pointed glances toward her anyway - and today, at least, you were almost glad of her habit of speeding.

The bags on the back seat were a heavy reminder in the corner of your eye.

You almost felt like you were back in your teenage years, being driven around by your parents and older friends. Then the airport finally came into view.

Jane parked and let you out. A car honked behind you. Quickly you thanked her and got out of the car.

You didn't know how, but you were still on time.

–    

After the flight, it was a blessing to arrive at the hotel room.

The room was small, had a strange orange wall color and a dubious stain on the floor that you strictly avoided stepping on. But at least you had the room to yourself. Reason enough to breathe a sigh of relief.  

In the evening, you fell into bed early, exhausted from the day. Sending a photo of your room to Jane would have to wait until tomorrow.

The next morning, you were awake long before your alarm clock. You didn't know who exactly was in the room next to you, but whoever it was had started snoring loudly at some point.

Even after a while, you couldn't fall back asleep. You were slow to pull yourself out of the warmth of your bed, but happy to escape the constant noise. So, you got ready for the day.

When you arrived in the breakfast room with a sectioned-off area for the team and players, the buffet had only just been opened. Apart from you, there was only one other person here so far, who ignored you as politely as you ignored them.

Most people would probably eat later. The game wasn't until late afternoon, so there was no rush to prepare, and morning skate wasn't scheduled for a few hours, as you’d heard.

With a full plate, you sat down at one of the many empty tables. While you ate, you checked your messages.

Jane had texted you last night to tell you that she’d taken your car to the mechanic. Already, they had sent you an email with a list of what needed to be repaired. Your hope that it would only be just a minor repair instantly vanished as you saw the length of the list.

You gulped a second time at the amount at the bottom of the mail.

Shit. That would easily consume an entire month's salary. You dropped your forehead to your hands.

"Does breakfast in general make you unhappy or is it this one in particular?" The chair next to you was pulled back. A certain ginger goalie fell into the seat.

You couldn't suppress a faint snort.

"I wouldn't count my car as breakfast," you tried to joke. Just the thought of your car made you grimace again.

"Oh," his brow furrowed gently. "That doesn't sound good?"

"Yeah. I mean, it has made a weird noise for a while now, should’ve known something like this would happen eventually. I just hoped to have a little more time before having to get it repaired."

Groaning you let your head fall into your hands again. Freddie shook his head, an amused glint in his eyes.

Then he seemed to have another thought.

“Wait, so how did you get to the airport?”

“Oh, I had someone drive me.” You turned your head to look at him.

“Boyfriend?" Maybe it was just hopeful wishing, the way Freddie's eyebrows drew down a touch further. “I mean, not that it’s any of my business.”

"My roommate, Jane." After short consideration, you also added: “Don’t think my ex would’ve even bothered to drive me.” You couldn't see Freddie’s face at that moment as your eyes were drawn to a new incoming message. Just Jane complaining about the weather.

“That sounds like there’s a story.”

You snorted. “Not a good one.”

Freddie seemed to get the drift. He did however furrow his brows slightly and asked slowly: "Wait, how are you getting home then?"

You could almost have sworn that Freddie was sitting closer than at the beginning.

To be honest, you hadn't really thought about it yourself. "Probably an Uber or...?" you mumbled but didn't finish the thought.

Someone from the marketing team - Angela? Angelica? Angeline? - sat down on a chair opposite you.

The conversation was paused for now. Instead, the blonde woman chattered away happily as you just nodded at the appropriate times.

You hadn't noticed when the room had started to become so crowded.

–  

When they’d said: "I have an exciting task for you today", you hadn't thought that cleaning helmets would be a big part of it.

Being allowed to take on more tasks on your own was wonderful. And you were grateful.

There were various parts on a few of the helmets that needed to be replaced or checked. By itself a nice and relaxing work. However, having to polish helmets had always been very low on your list of favorite activities. And today you had to clean every single one after the repairs.

One by one, some players arrived to collect their helmets for training themselves. Others were picked up and taken away by staff on their way past. By the time the last helmet was shiningly clean, there were only three left on the table next to you, waiting to be picked up.

And, well, one of them was a beautifully painted goalie mask of a very specific goalie.

Another player came to collect his helmet. You immediately suppressed the disappointment that welled up in your stomach when you realized who was coming through the door. Or rather, the disappointment at who it wasn't.

He was friendly, exchanged a few brief words with you and finally thanked you before disappearing again.

And then, Freddie came into the room. You almost missed it over your struggle of trying to get a new rag from the top shelf.

“Let me help you”, the deep voice from behind surprised you.  

He probably could’ve stepped around you and still reached the pile of rags easily enough. However, Freddie appeared behind you, not quite touching you, but close enough that you could feel the heat coming from his body.

Even after grabbing the desired item, he didn’t step back a whole lot, stayed close. If you would’ve wanted to you could’ve taken a step to the side. There was more than enough space and even if there wasn’t you knew Freddie would’ve moved immediately and apologized if you’d asked. But you didn’t.

You stayed exactly where you were.

The air between you felt almost charged. You wanted to see what Freddie’d do. You didn’t get the chance to.

The moment was over as quickly as it had come when the door was pushed open. You both jumped.

Until now you’d only seen Seth Jarvis occasionally from a distance in the hallways. Apart from that, you haven't had much to do with him yet.

The first thing you noticed about him today was that he was already holding his helmet in his hands. It was hanging over two fingers as if he had forgotten he even had it. You dimly remembered giving it to one of the employees not long ago.

You looked down at him once with furrowed brows. The rest of his equipment looked complete too and in working order.

Freddie huffed.

Seth's gaze flitted back and forth between him and you. A far too pleased grin began to grow on his face.

For a few seconds, his gaze stayed wandering between you two.

Finally, you broke the silence when it didn’t seem as if he intended to say anything.

"Is there… A problem with your helmet?"

Seth blinked at you. Then he followed your gaze down to his hands.

He shook his head, almost confused by your question. "No, everything's fine."

Okay? Then he probably hadn’t returned for that.

"Then... Anything else I can help you with?" you continued to ask.

He looked down at himself once more and seemed to think for a moment. Freddie started to speak, a meaningful glint in his eyes: "I'm sure it isn't-"

Somehow that just made Seth’s mischievous grin reappear.

He interrupted Freddie: "Hm, I don't know," he thought slowly, "My shin pad has been kind of weird these last few days and…"

Freddie scowled at him. But Seth didn't let it bother him at all. On the contrary, his grin widened a little more.

Amusement flashed in his eyes. There seemed to be some kind of silent communication between the two.

Finally, Seth concluded: "But it's not really that bad.”

So, you were back to square one.

"Then, anything else I can help you with?"

Seth’s answer came too quickly: "I guess I forgot why I came here. Can’t have been that important."

Turning around, however, took him longer than it should have, and you were pretty sure he did it on purpose. At the door, he threw another grinning look back.

Finally, you two were alone again.

You continued blinking at the door. What was that?

"I should probably see what he's up to," Freddie sighed but offered no other explanation. Nevertheless, he made no effort to leave.

Instead, almost absentmindedly he traced an invisible line in the table.

It took you a moment to notice - he lingered.

You didn't know what to do with the realization. Staring at Freddie the whole time only made you feel stranger. Whatever this conversation just was already left you almost dazed, so you picked up the last remaining helmet beside Freddie’s mask again.

You already knew it was spotless. Not for nothing had you spent so much time cleaning it earlier.

Just to have something to do, you picked up another cloth and set to work again.

Freddie watched you silently. There was something comfortable, almost familiar about sharing the silence.

When the last helmet was finally picked up by another employee, it was the signal for Freddie to leave.

You handed him his mask as well. Your fingers touched too long to be just a coincidence. It made your heart beat loudly in your chest.

For a moment you hesitated. Then you raised an arm briefly to his shoulder and gave him a quick squeeze. "Good luck!"

Before you had a chance to regret your decision, you went back to your work.

–   

The high spirits of some of the players you spotted hours later in the hallways told you how the game had turned out, even though you’d been too busy to watch.

You didn't think Freddie would send you more than a quick smile as he walked down the corridor. Two others caught up with him. One of them, easily recognized as Seth Jarvis, and one of the rookies. Seth said something to Freddie, then pushed him to the side straight at you, laughing with one hand behind his back.

With a slight color in his cheeks, no doubt still from the game, he took a few steps towards you. Smiling, he raised an arm. He waited a moment, as if offering you a way out. Instead, you gladly took a small step in his direction.

His arm wrapped around your shoulders. You were pressed firmly against Freddie, who murmured a quiet thank you against your hair. Then, he let go of you all too quickly.

What exactly he was thanking you for you didn’t know. You also didn’t get the chance to ask.

As they passed you, the other two players behind Freddie greeted you cheerfully. You didn't even know other players knew your name. Seth looked almost as amused as earlier today.

– 

By the last day of the road trip, you could no longer stand being in your room. Something about the specific shade of the wall color made your skin itch if you looked at it for too long.

It was unexpected how much you missed home. Even after just those few days in hotel rooms.

Maybe it was having to live out of a suitcase because it wasn't worth putting your things in the closet when you might be traveling to the next city that same night or the next morning. Or maybe it was the way you were constantly surrounded by the general working atmosphere.

You couldn't put your finger on it. What you could say, however, was that you couldn't wait to get home. 

Just one last game.

After dinner, you couldn't bring yourself to go back to your room. Instead, you explored the common room reserved for the team and staff.

Through the window, you could see some players playing with a ball in the backyard below. At a table in the corner, various people were playing a card game you had never heard of.

In a quiet area, you settled down with a book.

Everything was ideal for reading. It was quiet enough; the sofa was comfortable and you were wearing one of your coziest sweaters.

Still, you couldn’t concentrate on your book. Your thoughts wouldn’t calm down, leaving you feeling restless. Every few minutes you shifted in your seat.

You would have liked to fast-forward the day so that it would finally be evening, and you could go home. If it was up to you, you would have already been on a plane.

Every time someone walked past or entered the room, you unconsciously raised your eyes. And every time, you were annoyed that you had lost the line in your book again. Not that you could remember much of the story anyway. Your attention wasn't quite there.

However, it also meant you noticed when Freddie entered the room.

He stopped several times to talk to people. When he was only a few steps away from the sofas, he looked back and forth between them.

Before you could think about it too long, you slid a little to the side, as if an invitation. There was more than enough space next to you for him to sit down without you touching. However, you left the final decision to him.

You didn't have to wait long. Freddie plopped down on the couch - just a touch closer than usual, but still far enough away that you almost questioned if you were just imagining it. Not that you were complaining.

He opened the book he'd been holding under his arm.

Not exactly subtle, he kept watching you out of the corner of his eye. As soon as you lifted your head, however, he immediately averted his gaze.

Actually, you didn't want to ask. You weren't sure you wanted to hear the answer. What if it was a problem just you had. But still.

After another moment of thought you blurted: "Do you ever get tired of away games?"

"Huh?" He looked up, apparently not having anticipated such a question.

Well, there was no turning back now anyway.

"Like, traveling around all the time, being away from home so much?" you tried to explain.

His answer came easily. "Oh, absolutely. I used to hate it so much. Now it’s not as bad anymore. I mean, some days I would still be rather at but, ehn." He shrugged his shoulders.  

Only after a moment did you ask further, having the feeling he wasn't going to add anything more.

"Used to? What changed?"

"Mainly the team. Getting to know the people you spend the days with has been incredibly helpful. It feels less like a business trip and more like�� Like a school trip when you were younger." For a moment he got a far-away look in his eyes as if lost in thought.

Your gaze glided across the room. ‘Business trip’ summed up pretty well how it felt to you. Even though you've had superficial conversations with a lot of people, you probably didn't know any of them nearly well enough to put them anywhere near the friends category.

But of course, you’d also noticed how many of the others were always planning activities in groups or just talking and joking over the meals.

You exhaled briefly.

Freddie watched you for a moment. He tilted his head, then continued slowly. His words seemed measured: “You know, the first road trip after my trade here was particularly hard."

You hadn't even thought about that. Your stomach tightened at the thought of how Freddie must have felt.

"Of course, at most everything is the same, but it still feels so- so unfamiliar. You don't know who's sitting next to whom on the plane. You don't know who's a good roommate and who might snore loudly or leave their things everywhere. And all these little rituals and changes that might not even exist at home games."

"But it got better?" You looked at the hands in your lap.

"It really does. The first few times the unfamiliarity, it's so exhausting. But with each more trip, it becomes more and more of a habit."

After a beat of silence, Freddie added slowly: "I don't want to lie to you. Sometimes I'd still rather stay at home. Home games are definitely more enjoyable, as far as that goes. But they're exceptions, just like everyone has bad days."

Encouragingly, he gently pressed his shoulder against yours. The brief touch turned into a long moment, somehow your whole sides touching. Your arm rested against his, your legs just a few inches away.

After a few moments, when he still hadn't slipped away again, you let yourself relax against him. Gradually you could feel Freddie’s muscles losing their tension as well.

"What about Denmark? Do you ever miss being there?" you asked into the silence between you. Freddie looked out of the window.  

"When I was younger, I missed it a lot more than I do now. I haven't lived there for so long now that I hardly know any different."

Your eyebrows drew together. You didn't know whether the statement reassured you or whether it made you want to give Freddie a long hug. Somehow it sounded so sad.

"I can still visit it regularly. And it's not as if my family would ever let me forget the language." He pointed to the book next to him.

You hadn't looked at it closely before. But now you noticed that the title consisted of large - obviously Danish - words.

"Just sometimes..." he shrugged his shoulders unsure. Then he picked up his book again with a sigh.

This effectively ended the conversation. You wanted to ask more, but the far-away look in Freddie’s eyes stopped you. Now you felt bad. Making Freddie sad hadn’t been your intention.

As if he could read your mind, he knocked his elbow against yours gently. You took a deep breath. Returning the gesture, you began reading again as well.

While your earlier worries had calmed down for the time being, now, with every breath you took, you were made aware of how close you and Freddie were sitting to each other.

You didn't want to have to get up again.

–   

The flight home was uneventful. A general tiredness hung over everyone.

You yawned again as you finally stepped outside into the cool night air.

The tiredness made you inattentive and you flinched when someone unexpectedly appeared next to you.

By now you didn't even need to look at him to recognize Freddie. Just his stature and the hint of ginger hair were enough.

He casually reached for your bag and took it from your hand.

Baffled, you almost stumbled over your feet, looking up at him.

"That's my bag."

"Yep," he said with a grin. He had slowed down to give you a chance to catch up. "At least I hope it’s yours and not some random one you just took."

You rolled your eyes. “Then what are you doing with it? Now that we've established that it is my bag."

"I'm giving you a ride." He stated casually, then started walking again.

If you hadn't been so exhausted, you would have at least tried to protest out of politeness. 

Nevertheless, you couldn't help but at least tease tiredly: "Maybe I've got another ride by now."

"Is that why you have the Uber app open?"

You looked down at the phone in your hands. Huh, you couldn't say anything against that.

Freddie became serious for a moment.  "Hey, if you really don't want to, I'm happy to just wait here with you until your Uber arrives. But the offer stands."

"You really don't have to," spoke the good manners out of you. Your parents would have been proud. Even to your ears, however, it sounded very half-hearted.

Freddie stopped. You almost ran into him. Since you managed to stop just in time, you were now standing right in front of each other instead. If you had leaned forward just a little, you would have been touching.

For a long moment, Freddie held your gaze.  "I know I don't have to. But I want to." The sincerity in his words made you swallow. For a few seconds, you stood in front of each other, looking at each other. You could have sworn Freddie's eyes flickered down your face for a moment.

But then he just cleared his throat and started walking again. You ignored the small spark of disappointment in your stomach.

You were sure that Freddie purposely made himself taller as he looked down at you and joked: "And no offense to you, but you're really not big enough to be threatening."

"Hey! I can be scary if I want to be."

"Uh-uh. Whatever you say."

You stuck your tongue out at him, even if he couldn't see it, as he opened the trunk.

For some reason, you had expected the car ride with Freddie to be awkward. Instead, comfortable silence spread between you. After you had told him your address, he navigated the car slowly through the dark streets.

You watched the streetlights pass by the windshield for a while.

"So, do you give all the poor stranded newbies a ride?" It could be taken as a simple joke. You tried to keep your voice carefully neutral. Still, the mood in the car shifted. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but rather more serious than before. It felt important.

"Would you believe me if I said I was just being helpful?" Freddie didn't even sound like he believed the reason himself. It wasn't a straight answer, but it wasn't an immediate deflection either. You could just accept this as the answer and move on, just, you didn’t want that anymore.

"Normally? Yes. But when you say it like that? Not really”, you still kept the tone light.

"Yeah... My sister is the only one in our family who is a good liar. As a teenager, I always envied her for that. She could outsmart our mother every time."

A small smile graced your lips at the story. You could literally see it in front of you, a young Freddie stammering as he tried to come up with a story about why he was home late.

Freddie parked the car in front of your house. He continued to look straight ahead. In the dim light, you couldn’t be sure, but you could have sworn his ears were turning red.

"I mean, it really wasn't a big deal. And you're not the worst company either."

"Such a high compliment," you grinned, "Not the worst company."

Maybe his cheeks had gained a little color too.

"But really, thank you, for the ride. It probably wasn’t on your way."

"It was nothing, really. And maybe it was also a little selfish." He said it into the quiet of the night as if it were a precious secret. He turned his head towards you and looked straight at you. There was warmth in his gaze, perhaps a spark of hope.

"I like- I like spending time with you."

You couldn't help but smile at the words. Freddie smiled back.

Very slowly, one of his hands moved towards your face, as if he was giving you time to object. You immediately leaned into the touch as he cupped your cheek.

He stroked the corner of your mouth with his thumb. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up. One of your hands rested on his forearm.

"Good thing I like spending time with you too," you whispered softly.

Afterward, you couldn't remember who moved first. Freddie's face came closer towards yours. Your free hand buried itself in his shirt, the other one letting go to run through his hair.

As soon as your lips met, time seemed to stand still for a moment. You forgot all your previous thoughts. The only thing existing was the feeling of his lips pressing gently against yours.

Soon, the sweet kiss turned deeper. The angle wasn’t great, but you made it work.

When you finally broke away from each other, you didn’t move far. Your forehead rested against his, you could feel his breath against your lips.

A small giggle escaped you. Your eyes met. It made Freddie’s smile widen, before his hand slid into your neck to pull your lips to his once again.

– 

It was pure coincidence that you had packed your skates.

After a morning of unpacking deliveries and doing inventory, you were ready to just go home and curl up on your couch. Only Sarah, with whom you had shared the work, had made it more bearable. Before, you had only known her by sight. Now you couldn't remember the last time you had made friends with a colleague so fast.

She was also the first who saw the note on your locker. With a raised eyebrow, she watched as you read it. Your expression had apparently told her enough because she didn't question your decision to stay in the arena and instead said goodbye with a wink.

The note was pretty inconspicuous.

'Meet me on the ice?’

It was the thought of who the message was probably from that made your heart skip a beat.

When you stepped onto the ice this time, Freddie was already skating slow circles across the rink. You were delighted to realize that you could be faster than him in full gear and after several hours of training.

It was a moment of being inattentive – and maybe also you getting tired after a few laps – that he took advantage of. With a gentle push, cushioned on all sides by his pads, he pushed you against the glass.

With your back against the glass and his arms on either side of you, you stopped.

"Hi." You grinned up into his face. Through the mask, he grinned back just as widely.

"Hi."

"What a coincidence to see you here."

"What, were you expecting someone else, skat?" The way Freddie emphasized the last word told you he knew exactly what that would do to you. Your heart melted.

"Writing notes. Pet names. Is this becoming some high school romance novel?"

"I don't even know what you mean, elskling." You could hear the amusement in his voice. Before you had a chance to answer, Freddie had already pushed himself away.

He positioned himself in the net and leaned down. It didn't take you that long to get used to shooting again.

–

With your skates in hand and a pleasant exhaustion making your legs heavy, all you wanted to do was grab your stuff and finally head back to your apartment.  

As you turned the corner, you almost ran into someone. You only just managed to stop in time.

"Oh, I wasn't expecting you to still be here. Didn’t you finish several hours ago?" Tony looked down at you. In one arm he carried a pile of sticks, in the other a large folder overflowing with notes.

"But, oh wait, it's actually good that you're here."

The next words made your heart stop for a moment.

"I just need to talk to you for a minute."

When had that sentence ever been followed by something good?

You couldn't say for sure how long Tony had been standing here. Maybe he had just seen you with Freddie. Before that, you hadn't even thought about whether that was allowed. What if both you and Freddie got into trouble for it?

Or even worse. What if he found out about you and Freddie off the ice? You had only briefly skimmed the contract when you’d signed. You had been far too fascinated by this world, which was secret to every normal fan, to care about that stuff. Not that you’d even expected something like this to happen.

Now you were desperately trying to remember if there was a paragraph about whether relationships with players were allowed at all.

"I won't keep you long," Tony finally snapped you out of your thoughts.

"Brynn - that was the one who was ill. You were his replacement, I don't know if you ever heard his name." You couldn't remember it, but you'd been told so much in the first few days that you could very well have just forgotten it again.

"Anyway. Brynn will be back tomorrow," Tony's face stiffened, "So technically, we don't need any extra help anymore."

"Oh." Of all the fears that had been running through your mind, that hadn't been a scenario you’d considered. You had known from the start that it would only be a short-term job. But you’d have never expected it to be this short.

Tony smiled somberly. "I'm really sorry. I didn't think it would be so quick."

"Yeah, of course. I mean, it's great for Brynn." You weren’t lying. Obviously, it was good to hear, that he was healthy again. But at the same time, knowing you’d lose your job made your heart ache. Even in the short time, you’d grown to love it.

"Yeah," Tony nodded a little absently. He looked conflicted. "Okay, so. Technically I'm not supposed to say anything yet, but... my boss is retiring in the next few weeks. His replacement should be decided by the end of the week. We've had a few conversations and let's just say... I feel like I've got a pretty good chance of getting the role."

"That's really great for you?" you said slowly. Not that you weren't happy for Tony, but your enthusiasm was limited after you'd practically been fired just a minute before.

"That means there's a job opening to be filled." He looked at you meaningfully.

It took you a moment to finally understand. "Oooh."

"Yeah," he nodded, now with a hint of a grin on his lips. "I could put in a good word."

"Really?"

Tony nodded. You had to suppress a loud cheer.  

–

It was a strange feeling. Last away games you’d wished so desperately to be home again. This time you wished you could join. Having to sit at home and having to say goodbye to Freddie sounded almost worse.  

"I'm going to miss you for the next few days."

Freddie came up behind you. His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you against his chest. More than willingly, you let yourself fall against him.

He looked at you questioningly over your shoulder. "You're not coming?"

Then it seemed to come back to him too. "Oh, right."

It had taken you almost two days to tell him about the conversation with Tony. You were unsure how to. Plus, an annoying voice in the back of your head that would convince you that Freddie wouldn't care at all.

In the end, you blurted it out one afternoon. In your head, you stuck your tongue out at the nasty voice when Freddie immediately took you in his arms and asked how you were doing.

Even now, he gave you another apologetic hug.

Only one more day until the day Tony would hopefully call.  

The timer beeped. Sighing you peeled yourself from Freddie to take the tray out of the oven.

You sat it down on the counter next to the first, a lot less successful attempt.

You had wanted to do something nice for Freddie, had read up on Danish pastries the day before and after long contemplation finally saved a recipe on your phone. You didn’t know how to pronounce Brunsviger properly, but the pictures had looked great and the recipe seemed easy enough.

You still didn't know exactly where things had gone wrong. Although you had assured Freddie that he really didn't have to – and really, shouldn’t – he had tried a forkful of it anyway. As expected, it wasn’t good. Still, there was a traitorous wetness in his eyes and a long hug.

For the second attempt, Freddie hadn't left your side and guided you through it.

You left some on the counter for Jane. A silent apology for the last time you’d had Freddie over. You might have forgotten to tell her beforehand.

Or maybe, tell her about this at all. There just hadn’t been a good opportunity, especially also constantly having to think about your job.

On this day of all days Jane had come home a lot earlier than you anticipated. For a few seconds, she’d just blinked at you two sitting on the couch, you with your legs in Freddie’s lap.

Then, with a tight voice, she had asked: “Do you have a moment.” Her head nodding to the kitchen.

It had made you feel a little guilty how shocked she looked. Her first words being: “Is that Frederik Andersen in our living room?”.

Obviously, she was happy for you, after the first shock wore off.

The piece of Brunsviger was gone the next morning as you brought Freddie to the door.

"You're gonna be great," you told him goodbye.

The hug was long. Neither of you wanted to be the first to leave. In the end, it was time that drove you apart. If Freddie wanted to get to the airport on time, he had to hurry.

–   

Of course, you watched the games. The first game was great, the second one maybe even better. It was also the first time since the new job that you were actually able to give the games your full attention again. Even if you hadn't really noticed it before, you had missed it a little.

You had a good time. When Freddie had a particularly good save, you wrote him a message. You knew he would reply after the game in the flustered way he always reacted to compliments.

The phone call one evening still took you by surprise. A smile spread across your face. "Hey."

"Hej."

Before you could even reply, you heard a voice in the background.

"Hey, Freddie, what got you smiling like this?" You didn’t recognize the voice but you also didn't have to in order to understand the clearly teasing undertone.

The rustling from the line told you that Freddie must have covered the microphone for a moment. The muffled words he threw back sounded a lot like an insult. The response was laughter.

"Talking to your girlfriend?" came another voice, also obviously meant to tease.

Freddie didn’t reply. You could only imagine his facial expression.

Apparently, it was an interesting one. They probably also had expected some kind of denial.

Now there were several voices talking excitedly over each other.

"Wait what?" - "Wait are you serious?" - "Since when?"

"You can't just say that and leave! You have to-"

Then the voices in the background suddenly disappeared.

"Sorry, I just need to change rooms for a minute”, he said a little sheepishly. "They might have found out that we've been talking."

"Do you mind?" You chewed on your lower lip as you awaited the answer. Freddie didn't sound too worried, but still, probably better to ask.  

"Eh, not really" Then came the cautious question from him too: "Does it bother you?"

You took a moment to really think about it. Maybe it should have bothered you. Especially considering the fact that this was still so new with you two. Still, you couldn't find it in you to worry about it right now. You were far too happy for that.

"No. It probably had to come out somehow. Even if it was quicker than I thought. For hockey players, they're surprisingly smart."

Freddie's laughter rang out from the line. It made you miss seeing the little crinkles form around his eyes. "I'll tell them you said that”, he warned.

"Tony called today."

"Tony? From equipment?" Immediately you could hear Freddie perk up.

As if you knew another Tony.

"Uh-hu. You still have space in your car for one more person?" You let yourself fall backward onto your bed as you gave him a few moments to understand what you were saying.

A few seconds of silence and then a cautiously hopeful: "Yeah?"

"Just so I’m not almost late again, obviously." The corners of your mouth slowly began to pull into a grin.

"Really? Does that mean...?" The joy in his voice only made your grin widen.

"I'm employed. Permanently this time. Not just temporary."

Even as you heard the news from Tony himself, you could barely contain your happiness. As soon as you'd hung up, you'd jumped so loudly that even Jane had come out of the next room.

"That's fantastic!"

You couldn't even put into words how incredibly happy you were just then. The only thing that would’ve made the moment better was if you could have hugged Freddie at that moment.

–  

Before you knew it, the day of the third and final game of the road trip had arrived. As you watched the game on the side while you prepared your dinner, you had a good feeling.

The first period wasn't ideal, but it wasn't disastrous either. The second period started with a goal for the Canes. You jumped up and down enthusiastically, broccoli in hand.

After that, it was all downhill. At the end of the second 20 minutes, the Canes were already 2 goals behind. Two more goals followed. Freddie got pulled in the last 5 minutes. You could almost feel his frustration through the screen as he went down the tunnel.

At that moment, you wished you could’ve been there. How much you would’ve liked to give him a hug and tell him that everything would be okay.

You hesitated for a moment before sending a text. You definitely didn't want to annoy him. A text could never really express the comfort you wanted to give him, but it felt even worse not to write anything.

You tried not to think too much about it when you still hadn't heard back after half an hour. He was probably busy with his post-game routines. After all, they were set to travel back today and arrive late tonight. Surely, he would reply on the plane.

–  

It was pure coincidence that you were looking at your phone at that exact moment. Of course, you hadn't been checking for new messages every 5 minutes all evening. Who would do that? Definitely not you. (There were at least 6 and a half minutes on average between each time you checked your phone.)

So, it was definitely a complete coincidence that you were able to read the text the minute it flashed up on your phone.

It was just two short lines. An address.

It wasn’t even a question if you should go. Before you could even really think about it, you had already grabbed your jacket and put on your shoes.

As you closed the front door, your cell phone beeped with another message.

‘Only if you want to. Might not be in the best mood tonight.’

An obvious offer of a way out. As if you hadn't been waiting for this the whole evening. As if the thought of seeing Freddie again in just a few minutes didn't give you butterflies in your stomach. 

Your heart broke a little at how uncertain the texts sounded, as if you hadn't missed him for the last few days.

Excitement tingled in your fingers as you finally stepped into the elevator to Freddie’s apartment. It had been a short drive.

The door swung open. Freddie was standing in front of you. For a moment, you just looked at each other silently, then he literally pulled you against his chest. More than willingly, you sank into his arms.  

You buried your face in his sweater. The warmth of his body and his familiar scent enveloped you. You could’ve stayed like this forever.

Freddie pressed a gentle kiss into your hair before holding you just a little tighter.

It was the rumbling of his stomach that finally separated you. Even though Freddie was reluctant to let you go, you shooed him into the apartment. He shouldn't have to starve because of you. Who knows when he’d last eaten before the flight?

Freddie apparently understood what you wanted from him and so he led you through the entrance area into the open kitchen. There was already a pot on the stove, some kind of pasta in it. Next to it was a pan of chopped vegetables.

While he took a large wooden spoon and stirred it slowly, you jumped onto one of the counters and sat down. Given your height and the height of the counters, which were definitely adapted to Freddie, it wasn't as easy as you thought, but the twitch in the corner of Freddie's mouth made it worth the effort.

From your position, you could watch Freddie. How his movements were all a little too choppy and the tense line in his shoulders. How he put the spoon down too hard on the counter. How he didn’t raise his eyes.

"It wasn't your fault." You said quietly.

Freddie exhaled in disbelief. He didn't look up at you.

Only when you reached out a hand for him did he come closer. He propped himself up with his arms on both sides of you, resting his forehead against your shoulder.

"Even though you might not believe me just yet, it wasn't your fault," you repeated, hoping that your words would get through to him eventually.

One arm wrapped around his shoulders, the other you let run slowly through his hair.

"You did everything you could. It just wasn't your game. Can't win them all."

He let it pass for a moment, then took a deep breath. He turned his head. With a quick kiss against your neck, he pulled away from you.

"Thank you." He couldn't quite meet your gaze, but you still saw his words for what they were. Not just a thank you for right now, but the texts, the coming over, all the times before that.

"Nothing to thank me for," you confirmed. Freddie shook his head lovingly.

Nevertheless, he probably decided not to disagree for the moment. Instead, he took a plate from the cupboard. Silently he held it out to you, but you shook your head. You’d already eaten.

While Freddie ate, you sat beside him on the sofa. Your legs pressed together with soft music playing in the background for company.

When Freddie got up to take his plate back to the kitchen, you watched him.

Until he came back you hadn't moved from your seat, but apparently, Freddie was no longer satisfied with your previous seating arrangement. With a little shifting around, he finally settled behind you.

His legs were on either side of you, his back against the couch cushions, your back against his chest. One of his arms was wrapped around your waist, drawing slow circles into your side. The other hand was intertwined with yours on your lap.

Your words were quiet. You talked about the last few days, hockey the topic you both ignored. While you told him about the cute dog you'd seen while going grocery shopping, Freddie about something funny one of his teammates had done at team breakfast.

So much more important than your conversations, however, was the fact that you were together at that moment. You enjoyed the closeness; the body heat that radiated from him and slowly made you sleepy.

Every once in a while, Freddie took turns in gently kissing your temple and your forehead. Each time you sank a little more against him.

– 

"Happy New Year," Freddie murmured. His arms around your waist pulled you closer to him.

"Happy New Year," you whispered back against his lips. With your hands on the back of his neck, you reached up for a kiss.

Even after all these years, you still weren't tired of it. Hopefully, you’d never be.

[bodegacowboy]

Striking distance

Bathed in the soft glow of flickering lanterns, a handsome young couple fought. Sweat flowed down their bodies as they faced each other in the exact center of the dojo. Their eyes locked in a steely gaze. It was subtle, barely noticeable amidst the chaos of the battle. However, as they took a moment to assess one another, it became clear. Their breathing had fallen into perfect harmony, as if they were two halves of the same whole. Inhales and exhales merged, a symphony of sound that echoed through the empty dojo.

Sakura broke the ceasefire.

Launching into action, she unleashed a flurry of furious strikes at Naruto. Her fists moved with lightning speed, powerful strikes aimed at his head and torso. Each punch fueled by determination, seeking to overpower her opponent with sheer force. The heavy but precise blows hammered at her opponent’s defense with surgical precision.

Stone faced, Naruto did not back down. With swift reflexes and honed skill, he evaded her with more thunderous attacks. When an opportunity presented itself, he took it. Every strike was a calculated risk, but an improvised movement. Variety was crucial. No repeated strategies, consecutive combinations, patterns, or habits. Flowing like water. While one hand skirted danger by deflecting a punch, the other hand was already attacking. Each hand moved in cohesion, uncertain of the other’s actions.

But the assault did not stop. Sakura pressed on, her attacks becoming more aggressive with each passing moment. Naruto remained unfazed; with confidence he stepped into the eye of the hurricane.

In the quiet embrace of the dojo, lit by the soft glow of paper lanterns, the battle spoke volumes. A mesmerizing dance of skill, strength, and passion. Their effortless grace was a testament to their years of combat.

Then Naruto spoke

“Sakura...” He huffed. “Will you marry me?”

She froze mid punch, her clenched fist hovering in the air inches from his face. Her brow furrowing in confusion, she squeaked, “What?”

Naruto grinned. “Will you marry me?”

Sakura scoffed, “Nice try. But I’m not falling for that. You want to distract me.”

“Why I would I want to distract you?”

“I’m two seconds away from knocking you out.”

“Knocking me out--? I would have dodged that punch...or blocked it—Not important, at least not right now.”

He looked her over. She remained locked up in her punching motion. A spot on imitation of an ice statue. 

“Okay...” Naruto pressed on. “It’s a little sudden, but....it came out. So... Will you marry me?”

Sakura’s eyes widened in shock, her mouth now hanging open in disbelief.

She stared at him. He shrugged. Her eyes narrowed, roaming, tracing invisible paths across his face.

“Stop it” Sakura stammered, her voice a mixture of astonishment and bewilderment.  “Stop playing around.”

“I’m not playing around,” Naruto said, a hopeful smile on his lips. “We were supposed to be playing and experimenting with this spar, but you-you were off a little intense.”

Sakura unlocked herself. Taking a half step back out of her punching form, she sighed and straightened herself up. “I’m sorry, I was really focused.”

“I noticed.”

“I was feeling it, y’know.”

“Yeah, my ribs are feeling it too. Feeling bruised.”

She stared again, with even more disbelief. “Naruto. Did you just... propose to me?”

He nodded.

Disbelief again, now mixed in with some frustration, Sakura shook her head. “You’re really doing this, aren’t you?”

Naruto nodded again, a small smile playing on his lips. “Absolutely. So, what do you say?”

“You can’t!”

“I-can’t?”

Absolutely not, particularly during a fight.

“A spar...”

“I just-”

“So, that’s a ‘no’ then?”

“I never said no,” she said. “Who said no?”

If not ‘no,’ then what?”

“I said you can’t. Naruto look at me.”

“I’m looking.”

“I’m all frazzled, I’m dirty, I’m sweaty...I stink- I -you can’t!” She exclaimed.

His head tilted in confusion. “But I can, I did.”

“But why now? Why here? I thought...I thought we were fighting.”

“Sparring.”

“Why?” She asked.

“Whyyy...” Naruto said out loud. “I don’t know, I...” His voice spiked “I love you.”

He coughed, clearing his throat. “Is that not a good enough answer?”

She answered with a stare.

“For the record. You’re always beautiful to me, even covered in sweat.”

“I love you, Naruto,” Sakura murmured, her cheeks crimson. “I love you,”

She paused. “But you couldn’t let me shower first?”

Their eyes met, and their breaths aligned. Glances interlocked, freezing time as they sparred again.

With a slow, almost imperceptible nod, Naruto spoke up, “I’m surprised.”

“Surprised?”

“I’m surprised. You’re so surprised that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“I’m not,” she stopped short. Her eyes wandered the room for a moment before a nervous laugh escaped her lips. “OK... maybe....sometimes you wonder, right? You wonder if it’s real.”

One more round. Their eyes locked once again in a fierce embrace.

“It’s real, isn't it?” She said.

“Yeah it is.”

“I never imagined," she said following an audible gulp of air. "Someone would ask me to marry them while I’m sweating in a Gi with my dirty bare feet out.”

Naruto scratched at his cheek, “Alright I accept I got a little carried away with the moment. But it felt right.”

Sakura licked her lips. “I was going to win the fight.”

“The spar?”

“Yeah that...”

“Nah, I would have countered you at the perfect time. Maybe with a spinning dropkick.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah....Probably -Anyway if things started looking bad I’d summon some back up. I know a couple of frogs itching for a good figh-spar.”

Affection poured out from Sakura to the man standing across from her. Her cheeks flushed. She turned her head away from him. A tremor ran through her body. A ripple of emotion coursed along her shoulders. Her lips formed a question. She said nothing, however, as tears welled in her eyes, shimmering like dew drops. Then, a shy smile appeared on her face; it peeked out with caution before blossoming into joy. The dam burst, and the tears cascaded down her cheeks. Her body relaxed as she faced him, her eyes now showing more than affection.

“S-Sakura,” Naruto began, his voice shaky. “I’m sorry, you don’t have to say anything right now. Think about it. Take all the time you need--“

“Shut up,” Sakura whispered, her voice filled with emotion. “Idiot... Why did you do this when you already know my answer?”

Naruto drew in a sharp breath, “Is that a maybe?”

She moved fast, much faster than she had during the spar. She was on him before he could dodge, block, or blink. With a laugh, Sakura threw her arms around Naruto.

“Yes, Naruto. I’ll marry you.”

Naruto pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, his arms wrapped around her.

“I know that wasn’t that the most romantic moment Sakura but I promise I’ll be very romantic on our anniversary.”

“On all our anniversaries,” she declared, snuggling deeper into his embrace.

“All our anniversaries,” he corrected.

She rested her head on his chest. His arms embraced her. They swayed across the dojo floor. Their movements were fluid and effortless, as if they had danced together many times.

“Naruto, if someone asks about how you proposed, how will you explain what just happened? “

“She was going to knock me out, so I proposed.

Sakura smothered her laughter into his neck and shoulder. “Sounds about right.”

The end.

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