#ryan graves fanfic

[laurenairay]

When the time is right - R. Graves

Summary: the start of the relationship between Ryan Graves and the woman who stole his heart, Soren.

Words: 2k

Warnings: spicy implications, mentions of a bet, Ryan has not been traded.

A/N: Happy early birthday @tippedbykreider! 🎉🎉🎉 I wanted to write you a little something, so here’s an ode to our love of the Prettiest Vampire – it’s just short fic from the much longer story I’ve been writing forever, for Ryan Graves and my OC Soren. I hope you enjoy this and I hope you have a wonderful birthday!

Title from; Afterlife, by Avenged Sevenfold

~~~

“Are you ever going to make a move?”

Ryan choked on his drink, turning to look at Dougie, who was snickering at his reaction.

“What?” he asked, wiping his mouth dry with the back of his hand.

“Are you ever going to make a move on her? You two have been flirting non-stop since Bratter’s girl introduced her to the group, and I’m not the only one who’s noticed,” Dougie mused.

Ryan’s breath hitched in his throat at his friend’s words, loud enough that Dougie’s amused expression shifted into a smirk, to which Ryan just groaned. His eyes shifted across the room to land on the girl in question. Soren. The day that Nicole had brought her along with them to a team gathering, Ryan had been lost. It was cheesy really, almost feeling like a romcom doomed to fail, but every time he looked at her he got butterflies, and all he wanted to do was make her smile. Ryan wasn’t going to lie to himself – he knew exactly how he felt about Soren in all her gothic witchy beauty. He thought he’d been low-key enough to keep his composure, but if Dougie was saying he hadn’t?

“You’re not the only one who’s noticed?” Ryan sighed.

“Well at least you’re not lying in protest,” Dougie grinned, “and no, I’m not the only one. There’s even a bet going on whether or not you’ll actually man up and tell her how you feel.”

Of course there was a bet. Of course. He could only imagine how high the pot money was, if Dougie of all people was pushing this.

“Let me guess, your betting time is coming to an end and you want your winnings?” Ryan said dryly.

“Aww you do know me,” Dougie grinned, unashamed, making Ryan snort, “But seriously, talk to her. It’s dumb that you haven’t already, and if you wait around, someone else will snap her up. She likes you, you like her, you’ll make cute gothic babies.”

One step at a time.

But maybe Dougie had a point. The last thing he wanted was for someone else to sweep Soren off her feet. She deserved to get treated like the queen she was, and if he didn’t step up to the plate, ruining any chance he had with her? No, he couldn’t bear the thought. Maybe Dougie was right – he needed to say something, before it was too late.

“Oh I know that look. You’re planning. What are you planning?” Dougie teased.

“You’re the worst, go away,” Ryan muttered, pale cheeks flushing.

“Nuh uh, I need to make sure you actually go through with this so I can get the $5k I’m owed,” Dougie shrugged, smirk returning slightly.

5000 dollars. Holy shit. That’s ridiculous.

“You guys have way too much time on your hands,” Ryan groaned.

“Yes we do,” Dougie said seriously, before breaking the façade with a snort, “Go and talk to her, Gravy, really. I’ll even throw a couple of bottles of Sangiovese in as congratulations.”

So not fair dangling his favourite wine out like a carrot on a stick.

“How generous,” Ryan said dryly.

But as his gaze drifted back across the room to where Soren stood, he found himself locked on her as she threw her head back laughing, her long dark wavy hair swaying, the girls around her all laughing just as hard. She was perfect. Perfect for him. Could it really be that easy to just go over and talk to her?

“All jokes aside, I know that you’re serious about her. And anyone with eyes can see she’s the same with you. Take the risk, Gravy. You won’t regret it,” Dougie said, expression losing all humour to be replaced with the warmth that Ryan had grown to appreciate.

“Yeah. You’re right. What have I got to lose, right?” Ryan said, huffing out a laugh.

Other than, ooh, his dignity?

“Atta boy,” Dougie grinned, slapping Ryan hard enough on the shoulder for him to stumble slightly.

How had he managed to get himself in such a ridiculous situation?

Never let it be said that Ryan Graves was a quitter. He finished the last mouthful of his beer, placing the empty glass down with a thump, earning a whoop from Dougie. Ridiculous. Here goes nothing.

~~~

“Well Dougie looks hyped up about something.”

Soren startled slightly at Nicole’s words, hand coming up to rest over her heart as her friend cackled, before her eyes flickered over in Dougie’s direction. Well, it wasn’t like she was going to lie about knowing exactly where Dougie was, because he was standing right next to Ryan – and any of the girls with half a brain knew that she had a ridiculous crush on him.

How could she not?

Ryan was sweet, and kind, and charming, and endearing in all his awkwardness, and so damn hot with all his flirting. He was the most complex layered person she had ever met, but damn it she was enjoying slowly peeling back each layer to learn more. She’d been nervous, all those months ago, when Nicole had invited her along to a team gathering, but the moment she’d met Ryan? She felt like she was home. There was just such an instant spark, an intense attraction that she had never bothered to deny, but the longer that she spent in his company that he didn’t make a move on her, the harder it was to keep those butterflies filled with hope.

Because there was no way Soren was going to be the one to confess first. Nicole (and Jesper) had assured her that Ryan absolutely had feelings for her, but she’d been burned too hard in the past. She just couldn’t put her out there again without knowing for sure. So she just held on to the hope that one day, Ryan would say or do something to convince her that her friends weren’t crazy, that she wasn’t crazy. It was all she could do. Well, other than continuing to flirt with him, of course – she wasn’t passing that up for anything. Having his sweet smile, intense dark eyes, beautiful face looking at her? All that attention? No, she wanted to keep that, thank you very much.

If she’d put on her favourite figure-hugging black velvet dress just to catch his eye tonight? Well, that was just for her knowledge.

“Oh shit he’s coming over.”

Nicole’s voice again drew her out of her thoughts, but it was the gasp and light slap on her arm that made Soren look back over properly.

Ryan was walking over to them. Nicole wasn’t wrong. He’d never looked at her like that before either.

“Hi Soren. Ladies,” he said softly.

Despite him addressing the whole group, his eyes only looked at her, something which Nicole clearly noticed.

“I think I could do with a drink. See you Gravy.”

Soren couldn’t help but laugh at the lack of subtlety as her friend dragged the rest of the girls away, Ryan just flushing slightly. Her laugh softened into a smile when Ryan rubbed the back of his neck, clearly nervous about something. What did he have to be nervous about? It was just her.

“You and Dougie looked like you were having fun,” she mused.

Ryan huffed out a laugh, shrugging his agreement. “He’s an idiot, but we keep him around anyway.”

Soren couldn’t stop the laugh that spilled from her lips at Ryan’s blunt words, Ryan’s responding smile giving her the usual butterflies.

“Are you having a good night?” he asked.

“Better now you’ve finally come over,” she grinned.

She really couldn’t help but to flirt with him – it just came out so naturally. How could it not? It wasn’t exactly a secret that she was interested in Ryan Graves, not in their circle of friends, so why would she hold herself back?

“You were having fun with the girls, I didn’t want to interrupt,” he said, shaking his head as he laughed, although his cheeks flushed slightly at her flirting.

“Better late than never, I suppose,” she teased.

He flushed a little more, the pink trailing down his neck and below his shirt. A wicked part of her wanted to know exactly how far that blush travelled. Her strands of dignity just kept her thoughts as a smile.

Then he cleared his throat, smile shifting to something a little more serious, making her breath hitch in her chest. She’d never seen such an intense look on his face before, at least not around her.

“Soren, I…”

He trailed off, huffing out a frustrated breath, sending a pang through her chest. So she rested a hand lightly on his arm, trying to encourage him. The audible shaky breath he inhaled just intrigued her a little more.

“Is everything okay, Ryan?” she asked softly, smiling.

“Y-Yeah, of course,” he said, nodding.

“Really? Because you look like you have something to say and you’re not quite sure how to say it,” she said, teasing only slightly.

He laughed, shaking his head in amusement. “How do you know how to read me so well?”

“Lucky guess?”

“No guessing about it,” he shot back, smiling, “There is something I want to say. And I don’t know how to say it.”

His admission made those pesky butterflies flair up once more, so Soren just squeezed his arm where her hand was still resting, before letting him go.

“Did you want to go somewhere a little quieter? Would that help?” she offered.

She didn’t realise how it sounded until Ryan blushed furiously, a flush spreading lightly across her own pale cheeks in turn.

“I didn’t mean any funny business?” she said, a little awkward.

Trust her stupid mouth to run. For once, she hadn’t actually been flirting or making any innuendo.

“I wouldn’t mind a little funny business.”

Oh.

Oh.

His murmured words made her breath hitch in her throat, her lips parting in surprise. When Ryan’s eyes dropped to her parted lips, despite his blush, she knew that he’d meant his hushed words. She was going to take this chance and run with it.

“I think we should get out of here. Have a proper…discussion,” she said softly, almost like a purr.

The soft whimper Ryan made was everything.

“Yeah, lets go. To talk. My place?”

~~~

“I thought…you wanted…to talk?”

Soren managed to gasp those words out between fierce kisses, clutching at Ryan’s back where he’d pushed her into his hallway wall. Ryan groaned in protest, breaking the kiss reluctantly to stare down at her. He didn’t stop pressing her full-body into the wall though.

“Now is not the time to tease me,” he murmured, eyes dark and warning.

She grinned at the promise in his gaze, just making him groan again before moving to kiss down her throat.

“How about I do some guesswork, and you can tell me if I’m wrong?” she laughed.

Ryan hissed out a yes, nipping her earlobe to affirm.

“In the bar, you were going to ask me out on a date. Something just the two of us. Something that Dougie was teasing you about. Something to fulfil the bet people don’t think I know about. Am I wrong?”

It was a gamble, being so brazen with her words. But she’d never shied away from a challenge before and she wasn’t about to start now. Ryan immediately froze though, lifting his head sharply away from her neck, looking down at her with panic.

“I had no idea about the bet until literally just before I came over to you. I swear,” he said firmly, almost desperately.

Bless his heart.

“Oh sweetheart, I know that. Jack can’t keep his mouth shut and he doesn’t exactly have a quiet volume setting,” she mused.

The relief that spread across his face was almost comical, but it settled something in her too. He wanted this. He wanted them. And he wanted her to know that, right?

“Do you want me, Ryan?” she asked, walking her fingers up his chest.

His breath shuddered at her teasing touch, but he nodded without hesitation.

“I do. I do want you, Soren. So much,” he said, eyes wide and earnest.

That was all she needed to hear.

Soren grinned slowly, making him watch her satisfaction, and he stood so still that he was practically shaking as leant up on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “If you want me, take me.”

It was all Ryan could do to groan and capture her lips in another kiss.

[ghostradiodylan]

TW: canon-typical graphic violence for The Quarry (all under the ‘keep reading’).

Particles and Waves: A Ghost/Love Story

Dylan Lenivy knew he was going to die.

Not in the abstract way that everyone knows they’ll die eventually, but right now, today, in about the next 30 seconds. To say he was too young to die would have been a cliché, sure, but it would also have been true. He’d graduated high school in May and turned 19 in July. He’d just finished two months working with his friends as a summer camp counselor. He was supposed to be starting college in a week, he’d already packed for his move before he set off for camp. He’d kissed his crush in a game of truth or dare beside a campfire just that evening, his heart in his throat and cheap beer on his breath. He’d even managed to save his friend Kaitlyn from a werewolf attack in front of the Hackett’s Quarry Summer Camp lodge. He’d lost a hand that night, too, so it wasn’t all highlights, but, on the whole, Dylan felt like he had kind of a lot going for him. He would have preferred to stick around.

Since not dying didn’t appear to be in the cards anymore, though, Dylan hoped his end would at least be quick, that the grotesque, oddly fleshy werewolf, drooling and snarling inches from his face, staring him down with its demonic red eyes, would rip his throat out in one bite and be done with it. Unfortunately for Dylan, this beast had other plans. It gave him entirely too much time, sitting there in the cab of the magnetic crane at the Hackett scrapyard, to anticipate what would be an unrelentingly brutal end. As soon as it had knocked the blowtorch from his right hand, his only hand, he knew the fight was over. His one available weapon had flown to the left side of the cab, where his handless arm dangled uselessly, at the same time that the wolf had grabbed his remaining intact arm in its jaws.

The werewolf (was it Nick, he wondered. Or his boss Chris Hackett? Or another of his friends who’d been bitten and turned while he wasn’t looking? Surely it hadn’t been long enough since Dylan had seen him for it to somehow be Ryan) was taking its sweet time gnawing through what had been Dylan’s good arm, tearing muscle and sinew, splintering bone. And there was absolutely nothing he could do; no way to fight, no way to flee. He could only curse and cry and scream, so that’s what he did. The pain was indescribable. It was so much worse than the chainsaw, worse than anything he could have imagined, and it just would not stop.

Dylan wished that Kaitlyn could have come put a bullet in his head, euthanized him. That would have been a relief. Failing that, though, he hoped she was running already, hoped she’d gotten a decent head start out of this werewolf choosing to finish him off so slowly. Run away Kaitlyn, he urged her mentally, run!

He’d expected to pass out from the hemorrhaging by this point, especially given that this was Dylan’s second bloody attack of the night, and the last one had come complete with an amputation, but no, that would’ve been too easy. His stupid, stubborn body was so determined to keep itself alive that it just kept sending out bursts of adrenaline that he could do nothing with but shake and suffer. He remained conscious and screaming for several more unbearable seconds.

Though the pain and the terror wouldn’t quite allow Dylan’s all-too-short life to flash before his eyes like a movie montage, he did get momentary visions. He saw his mother, who he knew would be devastated beyond all consolation, and the packed bags and boxes that would never make it to his college dorm. He thought of his ginger cat purring on his lap, of Ryan’s smile and that little beauty mark at the corner of his mouth that Dylan thought might be the most attractive thing he’d ever seen on a human face, and of how it felt to be on the receiving end of Kaitlyn’s infectious laughter. He thought of everything he would miss, the blazing blue summer skies and the sound of boat paddles softly churning the surface of the lake, the faces of his friends in the bonfire light, all the songs his favorite bands would put out that he would never get to hear. And none of this distracted him from the pain, it only piled on another layer. It filled him with longing and sadness and, worst of all, guilt. He was dying, through no fault of his own, really, and he felt so damn guilty about it, about what it would do to everyone he loved.

Eventually, the monster ripped his arm in two and tossed the severed forearm to the side. Dylan might have made a ‘no hands’ joke now if only he hadn’t been too busy with the whole dying in agony thing. The creature then grabbed him by the throat with its huge, clawed hand and he was ready for that, he welcomed it now. But instead of crushing his windpipe and ending his torment, it merely used the leverage to hold him still (wow, really? he thought, this is just gratuitous). Then, it switched its attention to his other arm, the one that had arrived to the scene of his demise already down a hand, and proceeded to slash that one completely off at the upper arm with its claws. He felt the arm tearing away and the gush of blood, but he didn’t cry out then—the blackness had begun closing in on him too quickly, and Dylan was grateful for that. He was barely even aware that the beast had ultimately gone for his throat with its teeth because it did so only in the very end, once there was not one single shred of mercy left in the act. His last thought, as his heart stilled and his breath left his ravaged body, was oh, finally, thank fuck.

Dylan Lenivy had died, but that was only the beginning.

————————————————

Redoing the landing pages for my fics because I finally learned how to use tumblr semi-properly. 😅 Late to every party. Don’t mind this if you’ve already seen it!

[thedevilrisen]

i have an idea.

i want to start a new au, or two.. which one first?

[pollylynn]

Title: Discomfiture WC: 800

“Please, he didn't get to me.” —Kate Beckett, Flowers for Your Grave (1 x 01)

The fury deserts her with alarming swiftness once she’s out in the world again.

Oh, it had powered a fairly spectacular show back at the precinct. Without raising her voice, she’s certain she rattled the glass in Montgomery’s fish-bowl office just about hard enough to dissuade even Javier “Shark-Week Enthusiast” Esposito from pressing his nose up to it. And she’s pretty sure that the deadly stage whisper that sent Richard “Research Enthusiast" Castle scampering backward down the precinct’s darkest hallway actually rattled the decaying acoustic tiles in the ceiling hard enough to get a few faux snow drifts going back there. 

Even after she’d chased her new shadow back to Neverland, however temporarily, she’d continued to vibrate on such a high, fury-fueled frequency that a blast radius had opened up. After a brief flurry of hushed warnings traveled around the bullpen, a blessed peace born of abject fear had fallen.  She’d gotten a nearly unprecedented—even for her—amount of work done.

But it’s gone now, that fury that had served her like a faithful friend, all day long. She’d like to blame the bitter March wind for that. Or the fact that she’s starving and the smell of food trucks and over-eager restaurants with their silver forest of patio heaters have shivering servers weaving in and out of cafe tables with trays of mouth-watering entrees has drawn her attention to more pressing needs. 

But it has nothing to do with the chill or hunger. The fury is absolutely gone and inside, she is all hollow places and unpleasant echoes. No. Worse than unpleasant. Uncomfortable. He—Richard “Never a Scout” Castle—has somehow left her, Kate “Tough, but Savvy” Beckett feeling . . . uncomfortable. 

Not in the way she’s sure he’d like to. Not like that at all. 

Whatever this unsettled feeling is all about, it has nothing to  do with his transparent, junior-high lechery. She is entirely safe from his waggling eyebrows and talk of safe words and spanking, because it may have been a while (and—Lord—has it been a while), but he truly has no idea. 

It’s not even the fact that his stunt with the advanced copy, with the swift, awkward kiss that oh-so-carefully just missed the corner of her mouth, has her cheeks glowing pink again even out here on the street in the predictably seasonable chill of an early spring evening in New York. Her insides flutter at the memory even as her eyes roll in self-disgust, but Teen Beat feelings about a dizzying series of unexpected encounters with her one-time celebrity crush isn’t what has her stilettos meeting the pavement with a force she’ll likely regret long before she makes it home. 

The uneasy feeling he’s left her with is not at all personal. Well. Okay. Between her and the lamppost, it’s not entirely personal. It’s all too professional. 

Why are you here? 

The question she’d hurled at him over his hazardous fan mail comes sailing back at her in appropriately juvenile I’m rubber, and you’re glue  fashion. He’s left her wondering. Not with his   bullshit cold read about the socially acceptable options available to a good-looking, moneyed woman such as herself, but with his childlike faith in The Story. 

She hears herself scoffing at him about serial killers and psychopaths sans motive, about guilty guys standing over bodies with guns. She hears the desperation, the defensiveness in her own voice as she insists that somebody had to know something about Alison Tisdale, as she insists there was never a reason to interview the woman’s brother. Worst of all, maybe, she hears herself delivering her trademark speech about the weird ones and the revelations—the insights into the dark crevices of the human psyche—they alone can offer. She hears it all and wonders if any of it is, was, ever has been true. 

Because she knows full well there are victims that no one, least of all her, ever knows anything about. 

She knows full well that a year ago—or has it been two or three?—she wouldn’t have needed a reason to interview a victim’s father, her brother beyond compassion, beyond the meager comfort that the full force of her assurance that they’d get the person who’d done this to their loved one might provide. 

She knows full well, or she did once, that every victim’s life is filled with stories that intersect and diverge, that obscure and shed light.  

She knows full well that the freaky ones weren’t always a draw for their Saturday-crossword-level demands on her intellect. They weren’t always. But are they now? 

Why are you here?

She has always known the answer to that question. Always. And now he’s left her with the uncomfortable feeling she might not know any more. She might not know at all. 

A/N: IDK. Am I doing this again? Yikes.

image via homeofthenutty

[plasticfangtastic]

american royalty. ch. 2

A Homelander x F!reader fanfic.

a/n: will post ch. 3 this week but sadly my other fic will be posted next week, enjoy this slow burn dadlander fic, and thx u to all the readers. prev. chapter:

Sypnosis: Homelander never wanted to remember you, but after welcoming Ryan into his life, he thought of you & the lie that tore you two apart. Now... thinking back, thinking of your betrayal-- was he perhaps wrong about who the father of your unborn child was? Did you perhaps told the truth all those years ago?

Tags: mild gore, angst, lots of angst, slow burn, fluff, OC characther, child neglect, dadlander, romance.

Chapter Two

Red

It had been a very long day, business was booming nowadays and since that influencer had made a couple videos on your pizzeria, you had been more than just busy, you began to run out of ingredients.

 In the last four years, the restaurant had grown, it had been there since 2002 ran by your boss’s father and his brother, who had ran their own pizza shop since the 80’s but as the economy and other events hit, they had decided to relocate and re-brand, now managed by their son– a man you owed so much, had his heart not been filled with kindness you would most likely be in the streets. So you made sure his restaurant was the best, you had accolades, you’ve worked in some of the best restaurants, you were once a very prominent fast rising figure of the New York culinary scene– until Homelander came along.

Your talent revamped the restaurant and now your food was once again on the spotlight, for the first time since you left Vought, you were happy with yourself, even if it was pizza. Cooking made you happy, and this job needed you, you didn’t live in fear of sleeping in your car anymore, you didn’t need to worry that your daughter would sleep on somebody’s couch again, you were able to quit your third job and go casual on your second thanks to this place, right now you didn’t live in the best of places but you were saving up and in a couple months you’d have enough money saved up to move, and send your daughter to a better school, somewhere were her talents wouldn’t be wasted.

So here you were ten minutes before closing, another extra couple hours of overtime for your dream two bedroom apartment, where it would be safe for her, where you could finally feel like your life had moved on from him, that the door opened up and your cashier squealed.

It was a quaint looking restaurant, the wood seating was new and the wall decor had been changed trying to look less cluttered, with Art Deco lighting fixtures as the stand out feature. The place had been remodeled recently it seems, the kitchen and its big brick oven looked clean but ancient to Homelander, he stared at the menu board and metal boxes of accouterments by the counters, taking in that this was in fact a pizza place, that you of all people did in fact work at a pizza place. You who could whip up amazing fare, now made greasy cheap slices, but he had seen people come in and leave endlessly these past few days, people taking selfies, and recording themselves with your food, nothing he understood.

He looked back at the teenager on the counter offering his signature smile as she blubbered her script, then as you took a step closer knowing you couldn’t hide in this open kitchen you finally looked at each other for the first time in seven years.

Your throat collapsed and your whole body became prickly and tight, your heart was beating so fast you thought you might be having a heart attack, you looked at the clock cursing that it wasn’t over, you were almost done packing the kitchen and readying for tomorrow, having a customer at this hour was awful but having him here was about to take you to an early grave.

“What’s your best seller?” Homelander muttered looking straight at you with an aloof stare, then back at the cashier– is pizza night at my house, sorry for coming so late hope that’s not a problem?” he said exceedingly politely.

The teenager blushed and looked back at you as if asking you to pinch her.

“That would be our pepperoni queen– is two types of cheese, extra pepperoni, with our signature house made marinara, with a dash of vodka sauce in our sourdough thin crust… chili oil is optional” You had managed to say trying to ignore those piercing blue eyes, you moved back to your place staring at the few remaining trays of dough balls left– our second best seller is our chicken florentine pie.”

Homelander admittedly detested pizza, it was greasy, gooey and heavy, it was fattening and gross, but there was a familiar aroma in the room, something that was making his mouth water lightly. Looking back at the girl, he ordered both in their smallest size offered, he sat by one of the wooden booths for the ten minutes he was told to wait, and not once did he made a comment, maybe that’s why your heart stung so much, why it felt as if you were about to collapse– that after seven years, he had completely forgotten about you, while only now did you began to feel as if you could heal from all the suffering he’d cause you, how insignificant had you been all along, how you love never registered.

You both had talked of moving in together and buying a home, he wanted to buy you a restaurant, and you wanted to give him your life, you had never loved somebody as much as he made you love him, and now you were just some bum wearing a graphic t-shirt making him dinner.

You packed his food, your boss Kaleem had given him extras on the house, practically begging for Homelander to give them a photo for their socials and you simply stare as he did his superhero thing, you took one of the delivery bags knowing he would lose the food if he flew with them in hand.

After the photoshoot, Kaleem and your cashier had run to the back to show the picture to the only other staffer left at this hour.

You both looked at each other as he took the bag off your hands, you wanted to cry, your eyes welling up but you looked down afraid of him, no doubt he could hear your heartbeat tickling his ear.

“It's been a while hasn’t it?” 

You could’ve collapsed into tears right then and there, it was worse to be remembered.

Growing angry at the sound of his soft voice, and that concerned expression in his face.

“Yes…”

“How you been? Didn’t think I'd ever see you again.”

“Should’ve killed me back then… got fucking close to it tho.” You dropped all pleasantries, hearing him talk and not hearing the word sorry 5 seconds in, had infuriated you. His stupid face, those stupid eyes, and that clown suit was too much for you, maybe it was the poor diet and lack of sleep but right now you wanted to ban him from Lucci’s– hope you enjoy the food.”

You pushed the bag jumping from the kitchen to the front as you headed for the door, holding it open for him.

“I’m doing alright. Now leave!” 

“You don’t even want to know why I'm here?” he was taken aback by your brashness, you had always been sweet to him, tender, barely ever angry before, so why now?

“You got a little kid now, I gather like any other kid, he likes pizza… and good for him because mine is the best!”

“Not really… I actually wanted to see you. I… I just wanted to ask you something–

“Mother!!”

Your daughter emerged from the depths of the kitchen, she carried a kindle in one hand and a giftcard in the other.

“Is it okay if I use my present now? They got some books on sale and you said not to buy more books until I finished… oh…”

In the light and in front of him, your daughter truly looked like your mirror image, copy and pasted into a miniature. Her hair just past her chin, and her bangs indeed covered her eyes, peeking behind those curtains were the prettiest blue eyes he’d ever seen, there was no unnatural shine to them– just blue. Her lips so thin and her complexion just a tad paler than your own now that he gave it a proper look, she was so small-- too small for her age.

“Is okay honey, is your birthday you can get any books you want” Your tone shifted entirely lowering yourself to take her face and plant a quick peck on her cheek– now go back with uncle Kaleem and let mommy close shop, okay? We’ll go home in a minute.”

“Is it your birthday young lady? Congratulations.”

Homelander threw his best smile, giving the kid a cautious pet, catching the rage in your eyes as his gloved fingers touched your daughter.

“Thanks. Is not a milestone birthday so it is not worthy of congratulations… seems inane to celebrate it” she looked at her mother with a jaded expression– " I'll go get my bag, have a good night, sir.”

Homelander pressed his lip as the most deadpan voice came out of this little girl. Her oversized black sweater and the black tights made her look oddly unhappy, but the kid just stared at him with boredom, no surprise or interest when she stood next to America's favorite son.

He wondered if that was an adult or a seven year old for a second.

He worried if the kid had told his mother about that other night, but looking back at you he went with 'maybe'.

“What’s your name?” he asked, still forcing a smile– "my… you seem like a smart girl getting books for your birthday.”

“Helena.”

The kid couldn’t muster the energy to give him anything but her dead ass voice, she began to walk away not caring for manners, nor Homelander.

“She’s… cute.” he said watching that tiny figure walk away and surviving after her second nsult– great pronunciation for her age, does she even know what she’s saying?”

“Helena is not like other kids.”

“How so?” 

You looked at him more tired than anything, rubbing your temples as you made yourself waste spit to talk to him.

“She’s a Supe… by the time she was two she could speak in full sentences, by three she could read at a first and second grade level, and by five she was teaching herself calculus and piano… she’s a genius; I thought she was a normal genius until… her other powers manifested– none of this matters! Just go!” You shook your head in frustration.

“You gave her V?” He said while staring at Helena.

“... I didn’t know what V was until the news broke out, I thought Helena was chosen by God! That the world blessed her with those powers, but when that story came out I’ve been wanting to ask you– did you give her V? but… if you didn’t… who… are you lying to me, John?”

Homelander looked past the concrete walls looking back at that little girl, he didn’t know what to say or do, before you could utter another word he left.

Ryan nose picked the meal quickly, glad that it was friday and his dad would let him stay up ‘til late, Homelander just dropped the meal on their new table and the kid was quick on his feet, the food was still warm, only now did Homelander noticed the extras, couple of small containers holding chili oil and freshly made ranch, garlic knots and a lemon meringue pie, it was too much but Ryan hadn’t hesitated to dig in, before Homelander could ask him to wash his hands he had ripped a slice of pepperoni.

“This is so good!” He said so cheerfully– gosh I was starving, dad.”

“I sure hope so, bud… let’s leave the pie for tomorrow…” he looked grossed out, Ryan sat opening up the garlic knot’s containers– not gonna eat?”

Homelander sat down to join him, the thought of touching all those greasy surfaces was making his stomach hurl, but he relented, taking a slice. 

He was young again, and you were there coming back with some drinks as he ate your chicken florentine, this was the same recipe, the chicken was so juicy and the cheese wasn’t greasy. Ryan was shocked to see his father sound so happy as he took another bite.

It was the first time they both ate together where they felt completely comfortable with each other, maybe it was seeing Ryan not pick at his food that made Homelander able to just talk, Ryan told him all about his homework, and the videogame he was playing, he really liked Fifa at the moment even if he himself cared not for the sport.

Helena watched as her mother stood silently hovering above the sink, you hadn’t moved much for a couple of minutes, your daughter more annoyed than anything else regarding this display.

“How do you know Homelander?” she asked with a yawn.

“Huh?” you woke up from your trance– you should be in bed, darling.”

“You too. So… How do you know the clown?”

“Honey, don't say that!”

“He walks around wearing a onesie all day… like a clown… like the rest of those super clowns”

Your daughter always spoke with a creepy maturity, her voice didn’t belong to a kid.

“... He used to be my boss… he was a really bad boss…”

“You used to work for Vought?” She softened her stand.

“Honey… I don’t really want to talk about this… it's late and we are going to the museum tomorrow so you should get some sleep, mommy is just tired… hope you had a good birthday.”

“You should rest too, mother.”

Your daughter's eyes glowed momentarily turning th blinkers off before she made her way to bed, you stared at her door, thinking if she could see you.

No mother should think their child was creepy, Helena was just difficult and abrasive, to be a small kid with her brain must be unbearable. You could recall the moment she asked you about V so vividly, she looked angry, but you had no honest answer to give her, you had to lie, god knows if you got the details right about how these people committed these crimes. Helena simply had no ability to relate to people, and without the funds you couldn’t help her meet her potential, not while you were both stuck living in public housing, not while scraping every penny.

Her few friends forced her to dumb down and even they found her uneasy, only the old people seemed to handle her best, she loved to listen, and her teachers always thought of her as  a delight, yet she knew no other Supe beside herself, those pageants were expensive, and networking meetings were hard to get in, talent agencies were costly– having a super-abled kid and trying to make them into a Supe was locked behind a massive paywall, all you could hope was that her genius would let her enter a university early on scholarships.

There was always Godolkin, but god knows if they would let her enter at a young age.

It would be easy if her father was involved, if John was there in her life, she would have the world but he didn’t want her, he had made that clear years ago.

So why did he lie about the V? 

It had been two weeks since you seen Homelander, but he saw you a lot, he'd come back and forth-- watching you and the child with ardent curiosity, seeing you made him reminisce, of those many nights and afternoons, of the way no matter how tired you were, you always made sure to look happy when he showed up, the way you looked so at peace while cooking, of the feel of your skin against his and the taste of your precious lips as you kissed him good morning. 

He followed you, on your only day off as you took Helena around the city, watching you share a slice of overprice cake while taking notes, and ate cheap chinese for lunch, you waited for two hours as Helena played chess and checkers with some oldies at a chess shop, some russian man gave her lessons-- some of these people dressed nicely perhaps pros. Some won over her and some lost but the games were quick, your daughter seemed happier when she loss than when winning.

Something about that didn’t sit well with Homelander.

Somehow he found himself in your apartment, cracking open the window to sneak in while you headed back home– the tiny apartment felt more like a closet than a habitable space, the ceilign was run down, and the appliances ancient but well kept, your bedroom was simple, cooking books and boxes sat on top of your dressers, a single’s bed with plush comforters and pillows stuck against the wall, with a wardrobe in front of it, and a cheap fan tucked in the corner. He left for your daughter’s room just a few feet away divided by the bathroom were most of the clutter and laundry lived, her bedroom was just as plain, but the books didn’t seem fit for a small child, her desk tidy and organized, he picked up a notebook from the pile, seeing math equations that hurt his eyes within seconds. All her stuff were nice and new, she had a decent computer on top of her bed, an old dresser, but there was an absence of toys– compared to Ryan’s bedroom that was filled with anything he wanted and decorated expertly. A clock adorned her walls but not much else, the few things that looked messy was a tiny plastic chess set, the kind with magnets on the bottom, and some DIY stem kits.

He took to the bathroom, it was old and falling apart, mold was growing in the corner much to Homelander’s disgust, trolley held dozens of beauty stuff and shampoos and detergents, a shelf on the wall held towels and toilet rolls. Homelander looked at a sparkly hairbrush, picking a couple strands of lost hair knowing by their lengths and color that they weren’t yours, and cursing himself for doing this as he place them on small plastic bag he had hid in his glove.

[bucketspammer4life]

punch out hc dump because AGGHHHHGGGHHHGGHHBNBGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

sorry for falling off of the face of the earth. it will happen again. very often actually. yeah

Glass Joe has caffeine dependency,let this man go 1 hour without a hot fresh espresso (1 hour and 30 minutes if its a good day) and he will absolutely start TWEAKING. His doctors hate him for it.

Bald Bull actually got into boxing because of a comment his mom made on his anger issues.

Piston Hondo used to write fanfics when he was little,since then he has orphaned his works but they’re still out there,has told no one and will probably take it to the grave.

Disco Kid cannot do anything without background noise, anytime he loses his headphones his fight or flight mode activates.

Aran Ryan ate a lot of ants as a kid,knows the specific smell of ants and it haunts his nostrils once a year or so.

Mr Sandman actually knows a bit of spanish,he started learning it on a whim when he was bored but actually can speak it decently now,sometimes chats with Don Flamenco.

King Hippo gets reminded of his shitty blender business every once in awhile by Aran and HATES it, it once got to a point where saying the word “Blender” would have him fuming.

Bear Hugger sometimes gets a little too involved in other boxer’s gossip and ends up having beef with people he doesn’t even know.

Great Tiger gets bombarbed by hounds of paparazzi’s anytime he goes back to India ro visit family, he can luckily teleport away or send a clone to distract them.

Don Flamenco has multiple backup toupees just in case someone (coughcougharancoughcoughwheeze) tries to snatch it up and run away with it.

[necrotic-nephilim]

-debby ryans at you- how are you feeling about that thunderbolts* trailer, snookums. your old blog is trying to crawl from its grave.

you are an unhinged rat for sending me this ask i hope you know <3 you already knew that but i'm telling you anyway bc you're a rat bc now i have to explain myself-

this is from @eebuckley my partner <3 i've alluded to it in the tags of this blog but i used to be a semi-popular MCU blogger from like 2018 to 2020. (semi-popular for the ship i wrote, anyway) and since like, probably Infinity War/Endgame i have been slowly more and more disillusioned by the MCU ranging from only passively being interested in projects to outright despising them if i saw them. which sort of sucks, given how much i loved the MCU at it's height. i was like. aggressively into it. like a "i had asthma attacks watching trailers bc i got so excited" level of into it. maybe cringey in hindsight, honestly but yk. whatever brings you joy, ig.

and anyway- my partner witnessed my very real and normal reaction to the Thunderbolts* trailer and now i'm *mad* bc i'm actually excited about it. it made me feel about the MCU a way i haven't felt in years, especially after a lot of announcements that rlly pissed me off.

cannot believe it looks like we might actually get a comics-accurate Yelena and a comics-accurate Bucky. i'm such a sucker for Bucky Barnes, he's one of the only Marvel characters i actually read Marve comics for and i'm forever bitter how badly he got screwed over. if that movie is good i'm going to end up writing fanfiction. probably crossover fanfiction bc over my dead body will i write just plain MCU fanfic. and i'm a Jason Todd/Bucky shipper anyway so i could make it work, i think-

anyway TLDR is i'm excited and i'm mad about it and how dare yo expose me for being an MCU fan on THIS blog. you coulda send this ask to my MCU blog that still exists and i have occasionally used. but instead you *exposed* my ass on my refined DC blog as a filthy Marvel fan. i will be divorcing you again. ty gn ily

[lover-of-mine]

your post about how eddie fell first is literally what made me follow you last year 😄

i know you said you’re enjoying the time before the show might… well, squash the theory… but you never know! it could be the reveal/pining/slowburn of the century!

what are your theories for if they don’t go that route? eddie didn’t know all along?

I love that you followed me through that post because I feel like that one really sets the mood for the madness you're about to experience following me kspakspakpakapaka

No but can you imagine, revealing that Eddie has been in love all along and aware of it for whoever long they decide (I know I say even all the way down to the lawsuit could work and that the shooting was his oh moment, but my guess if they ever went that route it would be post breakdown, like, he figures it out and accepts between dumb luck and starting over, so confirm he was pining during all of season 6) and then make Eddie canonically explicitly pine as Buck dates a guy who's literally him in a different font? What kind of fanfic bullshit would that be? I would die, like legit. Buck being bi almost made me call my psychiatrist to adjust my meds, Eddie being in love with Buck all along confirmed would put me in a psych hold kspalapalapopkspsk

That being said, if they are going there with buddie, which I'm 90% sure they are, since Buck is fully unaware of the Eddie of it all and Eddie is about to have problems with Marisol, you can have Eddie watch Buck with Tommy and be like "I want that", especially when it seems like they'll focus a lot on being soft and fun and something that just makes Buck happy, and then be like "oh shit do I want Buck?" Because they never really saw each other in a happy relationship, so that can absolutely spark something for Eddie and Eddie wouldn't need something as on the nose as being grabbed and kissed by Buck to realize he loves him, yk? So he can be longing for what they have, even more if he does break up with Marisol before he finds out Buck and Tommy are dating, and then have him be like oh fuck. Because even though I strongly believe Buck needs to make a move, the show needs to explicitly state Eddie's interest in Buck before that happens or else you risk people saying it came out of nowhere or it's just repeating the bucktommy start. Like, I wouldn't be surprised if there was something like Buck and Tommy dancing at the wedding, and Eddie watching them, and you just see the progression happen on his face (that Ryan would BODY because the way that man can make you feel exactly what Eddie is feeling without saying a single word amazes me) and then we enter a pining era that eventually would evolve into a mutual pining era and eventually getting them together. But my guess right now is not that Eddie is gonna be jealous, it is that he's gonna be longing, and that will lead to him finally being like oh! for real.

Fantasy scenario though, is the reveal that Eddie has in fact been aware of it at least throughout all of season 6, settled into the fact that Buck was "straight" and he had to move on, now has to pine as he watches Buck with a guy he has so much in common with, and not do anything about it again not because he thinks Buck can't feel the same way, but because Buck just doesn't want him and is happy, so he won't mess that up and take the secret to the grave. Especially if you consider the way you can totally frame the cemetery scene to make it seem like Eddie thinks Buck "broke up" with him (cemetery scene my beloved 🫶), you have him double down that feeling, "I'm still not what he wants, that doesn't change just because he's attracted to guys" and you have him try to figure out what to do with it since moving on didn't work he and he would want to be as supportive as possible because Buck is still Buck and he is his person and he wants Buck to be happy, all while trying to figure out how to be happy with himself, and while Buck and Eddie work on their friendship (talk boys, please, I'm begging). Then Buck and Tommy break up, Buck and Eddie almost die together in the finale and we have a buddie cliffhanger to close the season (drown Buck 2024 I will always believe you) and buddie get together at some point during the beginning of season 8.

Also, can you imagine the CHAOS if the show gave us bi Buck and buddie canon on Eddie's side within a week of each other after only 5 episodes in the network? We would LEGIT break the internet. And I would owe everything to abc lol

[stargazing-sapphire2]

Welcome to my blog

Call me Sapphire. I mostly write for Call of Duty on this blog, but also for multiple other fandoms when the obsession gets me. As this is a remake of my old account, I will be attempting to repost old fanfics as well as new ones to add on.

-This is an 18+ account. If you a minor, you will be blocked on sight.

-I will usually lore dump and talk about my OCs on here. My inbox is open for you to spam about your own OCs and fics, so I happily welcome the asks!

-I will start taking writing requests on this blog to try my hand at it. Whether its OCxCanon, CanonxCanon, or X reader content. Just send me your OC's bio in a request and i will do the best I can with it

-I will write for almost anything, within reason. While I won't shy away from most dark and upsetting topics, I will bring up a subject I'm uncomfortable with to not write it. Trigger warnings will also be added in these posts.

-Anon hate will just be deleted/ignored, so don't bother sending it, please.

LINKS:

Call of Duty OCs:

COD - Ghosts:

Elizabeth "Beth" Ashford

Arabella Walker *IN PROGRESS*

Henry Ashford

Helena Rorke

Evangeline "Eva" Ashford

COD - Black Ops:

Lars Pääkkönen

Lydia Graves *IN PROGRESS*

Elena Anderson *IN PROGRESS*

Aleksi and Sveta Pääkkönen *IN PROGRESS*

COD - Modern Warfare (OG and Reboot):

Serena "Alias" Peterson / Metal Zero-5 *IN PROGRESS*

Anya Orlova

Alice "Bones" McGrath *IN PROGRESS*

Ryan Smith *IN PROGRESS*

Catriona Valdés *IN PROGRESS*

Kristoff "Avalanche" Jorgensen *IN PROGRESS*

Laena Thompson *IN PROGRESS*

COD - Advanced Warfare:

Yelena Gavrikova *IN PROGRESS*

COD - WW2 / World At War:

Gunnar Pääkkönen

Archer Sinclair *IN PROGRESS*

Anatoly Flyorov *IN PROGRESS*

FANFIC MASTERLIST (For now):

Command Me To Be Well

The Devil's Gambit

[stereax]

ID LOVE 2 KNOW :3 - @homegirlhockey

:D!!! Here's the Devils' locker room layout for all your fanfic needs!

First off thank you Santagovich because your video singlehandedly confirmed about 60% of this, secondly shout out to exit interviews for giving me more info. Also: this is only for HOME GAMES IN 2022-23. Away has different seating, practices also have different seating, and next year's roster will shake up the locker room as well.

That being said...

Just to the right of a set of doors sits Tomas Tatar. Then, the line goes Yegor Sharangovich, Jack Hughes, Nate Bastian, Timo Meier, Jesper Boqvist before hitting a corner. Turn the corner and you get Miles Wood, Dawson Mercer, Nico Hischier, Ondrej Palat, Mikey McLeod, Jesper Bratt, Erik Haula. To the right of Haula is another corner, this one with a shelf of supplies and a fridge (presumably for Jack's Gato), and after that another door. Jonas Siegenthaler is on the other side of that door, followed by Damon Severson, Kevin Bahl, then John Marino, then a silver panel with NJD on it.

All of this I have confirmed. After is somewhat speculative because I can't find good shots of the back of the locker room.

I believe that after the NJD panel is another set of doors, then an Est 1985 silver panel, then Dougie Hamilton's stall. Dougie looks like he really enjoys his personal space, as his neighbor's stall is empty. I believe that after the empty stall is Brendan Smith, then Ryan Graves, Curtis Lazar, and Luke Hughes. (So the d-corps gets one wall, excepting Lazar who's Luke's father figure lmao). Luke has just about no interviews in front of his stall, making it hard to confirm what's after him. I think there's an empty stall after Luke? But hell if I know.

Then there are the goalies, who have stalls in the order Mackenzie Blackwood, Vitek Vanecek, Akira Schmid. To the left of Blackwood is an empty goalie stall. Siegs's Game 5 Victory Speech makes it look like Akira's sitting on the left side of the doors that Tuna flanks from the right.

Finally, something to note is that the Devils logo is in the middle of the floor with the horns pointing up towards Nico's wall.

So, to recap to the best of my ability:

[Empty goalie?] - 29 - 41 - 40 - [Doors] - 90 - 17 - 86 - 14 - 96 - 70 - [CORNER] - 44 - 91 - 13 - 18 - 20 - 63 - 56 - [CORNER] - [Storage & Fridge] - [Doors] - 71 - 28 - 88 - 6 - [NJD silver panel] - [Doors] - [Est 1985 silver panel] - 7 - [Empty] - 2 - 33 - 42 - 43 - [Empty?] - [CORNER?]

If any of y'all know of any more locker room pics from this year that show the back of the room, especially the bottom-right corner and the goalies' area (mostly what's on their sides), let me know so I can edit this appropriately :)

[ryangravytrain]

4, 27 and 41 please? 🥺

Of course my anon :))

4. How do you choose which fics to write?

It’s tricky. Often times I’ll start working on one wip and then lose motivation or get stuck on a scene and switch wips. If I’m apart of a fest or exchange I try to get those going asap but if not it’s all up to chance. Or I’ll ask a friend to choose a number and that’ll be the one to work on lol

27. What area of writing do you feel strongest in?

This one is tricky…sometimes I think it’s dialogue, sometimes it’s imagery. I think I’m strongest in character voice, finding the nuances of the character and making them them :) but idk you tell me lol

41. Who’s your favorite character you’ve written?

Hehehe it would be an easy answer to say Ryan Graves, making him suffer in my stories is a good pastime. Although recently I love the way I wrote Luke Hughes in “Behind Closed Doors”

“Fanfic Writing Asks”

[anticipatecrime]

'𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙚' 𝙧𝙮𝙖𝙣 𝙡𝙪𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙊𝘾 | chapter i

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: ex-drummer of a band, ronan finds himself not knowing where to go, but when his aunt eleanor lethe invites him to haven springs, he says fuck it, and moves into the lethe flowers shop. he's excited yet scared for his fresh start as a trans guy in a small town. 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨: 1.5k 𝙖/𝙣:keep watching lis true colours playthroughs and getting myself attached to ryan. i'm using this to dig myself out of a writing grave💀 had a very popular tumblr fanfic account almost two years ago.. i'm welcoming myself back woo! enjoy this because theres no ryan fics.

he watched the scenery go by, trying to fight the boredom, as his eyes almost shut. the trees, the mountains, the wildlife.. it wasn’t doing it for him anymore. after more than forty hours, it stops being as beautiful and intriguing as it once was.

the only thing actually distracting him from his lack of enthusiasm was his music. he did slight movements side to side. god he loved music, even moreso loved the violent femmes.

‘when i’m out walkin’, i strut my stuff man im so strung out’

‘i’m high as a kite, i just might stop to check you out’ instantly, he was infront of a crowd again, his air drumsticks became real ones and the crowd was cheering, bouncing up and down to the sound of his band. everyone seemed to be on a buzz, just enjoying themselves.

he missed that feeling, he missed performing with his band, but.. theres no way he could go back, especially with what happened his ex, aka the bassist.

he shook his head, and took his headphones off. ‘no reason to think about the past, when we’re constantly in the future’ he thought, continuing to look out the window.

he hoped in anticipation that he would arrive to his destination soon. the bus felt oddly cramped, even though there was only himself on it. maybe three stops ago the last people got off. young hipsters who reeked of marijuana.

suddenly, ronan was pulled out of his thoughts when the breaks of the bus were slammed, and his glasses were launched off his eyes. ‘jesus’ he thought, scrambling to pick them back up.

“sorry kid! these breaks are so unstable, got stuck at the last minute.”

“its uh, okay?” he replied, finally realizing where he was. it was a two day, six bus journey, but finally ronan arrived in haven springs. and thank fuck for that.

he grabbed his luggage, and began rolling it off the bus, sending a smile and wave to the bus driver. "have a good one!"

"you too! enjoy the small town culture." he said, before closing the doors and moving forward.

"wow.. a frest start." he hummed, looking forward to seeing his aunt eleanor, probably his only family member that wasn't deceased or estranged. he was lucky to have her as such a supportive person in his life.

she supported him when he came out as trans, then gay, when he dropped out of law school and focused on music instead, when he moved away from his biological mother and when he needed a place to stay. It was like this woman was his guardian angel.

now, he just needed to find where she was. She offered him one of the spare offices in the flower shop.

he started walking forwards, and his jaw dropped in awe, shocked at the beautiful stone bridge infront of him. It was decorated with beautiful flowers and vines.

it looks so different but the vibe is the same, he can remember being about five years old here, visiting his aunt for the weekend. he got to see the spring festival, play with some of the other kids here, he vaguely remembers a few people from here. crazy to think the last time he was here was in 2001.

he strolls along, making sure to take in every building, every person who glances at him.

unexpectedly, an arm was around him. He turns, seeing someone unfamiliar. "hi? do i know you?"

"no you do not." a girl with red glasses chuckles kindly. "but i know you! ronan, right? awesome to meet you."

"nice to meet you too.. random person." his eyes narrowed.

"oh my god, sorry!" she laughs. "i'm alex!"

"alex what are you-" another voice chims in. "oh, sick."

"anyways, i'm alex chen, this is steph, welcome to haven springs!"

"thanks." he rubbed the back of his neck, feeling so uncomfortable at the sudden social presence. alex grabbed onto stephs hand, and they took a step back together.

"sorry, we just don't get new people often. i understand how it feels to be bombarded with welcomes, i was the new person before you i guess." alex took a deep breath, thinking about her first day here, and everything that happened.

"eleanor posted about you arriving today, so don't be shocked if more people come up to you, i'll try to calm them down a bit. in the meantime, do you want us to guide you to eleanor's shop?" she offered.

"oh uh, sure!"

the walk was fairly silent, and it was only making things more awkward. "so.. tell me about the other townspeople?" he suggested, with a shrug of his shoulder.

"well there's not too many people are age, other than ryan, and uh hector." steph begins to whisper. "he uh, really likes his dog chrissy, one time he lost her and started listening to breakup songs."

"hey, i'd be sad too if i lost my dog.. maybe not breakup song sad but still!" he snickered. "also, riley's off to college right?"

"yeah, she's going to be visiting this summer though." alex adds in.

"i remember ryan, he's 3 years older than me, i remember his dad making him play dragons with me."

"that reminds me, are you all caught up with everything that's happened in the past two years?" alex questions, curiously.

ronan grimaces. "yeah, hard to miss on the news, even from a different state. i was thinking about saying something earlier but i didn't want to take down the mood. i'm really sorry for everything that happened to you alex, but you're so strong and i can't believe everything you uncovered."

alex pauses in her step and looks at ronans aura. it was a light blue tint. she breaths in, and out, not knowing what to say. steph notices, and takes over.

"we're here!" she announces. "eleanor will be somewhere in there, when you're done getting used to the town, there's a welcome party down at the black lantern for you."

he glances to alex, mouthing an apology, before smiling. "okay, i'll see you guys there, then?"

"yes you will." steph confirmed, before her and alex left towards the record shop.

'time to see eleanor' he thought, nervously. the one person that has always supported him. what if she doesn't feel the same as she once did?

he pushes the door handle, causing the bell to ring. "RONAN!" she exclaims, running towards the boy. "oh how i've missed you." the older woman hugs him tight. "i'm sorry for everything that's happened."

ronan exhaled shakily, trying not to get too emotional on his first day. "it's okay, it's all in the past now." he reassured her, not wanting to upset eleanor more.

she breaks away from him and gives a warming smile. "i'm so happy you're here. i had ryan help furnish your room, since i'm not used to decorating."

"oh? thank you." he smiled. "how is he? still a nerd about nature?"

"oh honey, he's a park ranger now." eleanor says, making the two giggle. "very into birds."

"i expected nothing less from him." ronan shrugs, beginning to walk around the shop.

eleanor pauses for a moment, before smiling again. "but he's a very great guy ya'know, he's looking forward to seeing you again."

"oh geez.." he mumbled, rubbing his hands together anxiously. hearing that made him nervous. 'he's looking forward to seeing you again.'

ronan only started transitioning 5 years ago, and came out 4 years ago. ryans version of him is much different then how he is now. it would be like meeting a completely different person.

"don't worry about anything okay darling? i didn't tell anyone that you were transgender other than people who knew you before. all i said on myblock was that my nephew was moving here."

"thank you eleanor, it really means a lot." he smiled.

"oh oh, i'm sorry, let me help you with those." she rolled one of the suitcases towards the back. "follow me when you're ready!"

ronan looked around at all the flowers and plants. there was lilies, roses, sunflowers, orchids and so many more. it smelled like natural perfume. he's always loved flowers, fantasized about getting them one day. he huffed, and rolled his eyes at his own thoughts, and took off towards the back.

he passed one closed door before seeing an open door, most likely his. he took a step in and was in awe, it looked perfect for his stay. it almost reminded him of his teenage bedroom, but if it was in a cottage. "i remember some of the bands you were messaging me about, so i thought what else would be better to put on the walls then posters."

ronan reached over and hugged her once more. "this is too much, im so grateful to have you, thank you."

"it's no problem dear." she smiled brightly. "here, i'll leave you to settle in, i'll be working just down the hall in the office. if you finish unpacking before the welcome party, don't feel shy, go explore and make friends!"

"i'll try." he sighed, as eleanor shut the bedroom door.

he stood for a moment, trying to catch his breath. 'finally.. peace and quiet'

ronan began unpacking his bags. he had two rolling suitcases, a duffle bag, and a tote bag. it was a lot of luggage to carry around on six buses but it was necessary. he also had some other items coming in the mail, like his drum kit and guitar.

he started with the first suitcase, pulling out essential items like toothpaste, toothbrush, menstrual products, a variety of soaps, some candles. then it started getting into the little nicknacks. some being stuff he picked up on his travels, others just things that have memories attached to them.

after putting his toiletries in the bathroom, and the nicknacks on the blank shelves above his desk and bed, he started sorting through his clothing. he put piles of clothes into the closet, and a few extra things into the drawers under his bed.

to say ronan was exhausted, was an understatement. he just traveled through four states in roughly two days, met a bunch of people on his way, and in haven, and had to unpack as his first chore.

he took off his glasses before he collapsed onto the bed, the comforter a dark navy plaid, with black sheets. "can't believe i'm back here after all this time." he breathed.

now he just has to get through the rest of the day, and he'll be fine. right?

a/n: thank you for reading the first chapter of out of state, plenty more to come :) also i'd love to have anons if anyone would want to be an anon

[captainjamster]

awhhh thank u for the tag @syoddeye i havent done one of these in a while !! sorry its so late, tysm for thinking of me omg i adore seeing u in my notifs <3

Three Ships: im gonna have to cheat and say poly 141 too, especially soap x gaz and price x gaz; otherwise, i think valeria x ale x rudy is delicious, and price x graves MWAHAHAHAHA i love an unpopular ship im sorry

First Ship: oh god TECHNICALLY it was myself and a person i liked writing fanfic about when i was like 9 but media?? zoro and sanji from one piece lmfaooo

Last Movie: Barbie in a Mermaid Tale with my sister lolol <3

Last Song: Live Forever - Kotomi & Ryan Elder

Currently Reading: some goddamn psychology text book i dont have time for anything else sob

Currently Watching: Rick and Morty for the billionth time as you might tell from the last song, but Star Wars between that

Currently Eating: A vegetarian pizza with my freakign favourite ever topic - artichoke <3<3<3

Currently Craving: Sushi and miso soup omg, or cheesecake I'll take either

no pressure tags if u havent done it yet: @dumbbitchgalore @honestlyhiswife @fuckjohnprice @staytrueblue @glossysoap and anyone else that would like to join in!! i love u guys!! <3

9 People You Want to Know Better

Tagged by @smoggyfogbottom 🧡💐 thank you!

Three Ships: poly 141 (and it's cheating but every combination tbh), gaz x farah x alex, and kate x reader x price (this specific dynamic).

First Ship: 💀 i think it was ami (sailor mercury) x makoto (sailor jupiter)

Last Movie: rewatched best in show last weekend

Last Song: toro by remi wolf

Currently Reading: about to start the breakaways by cathy g. johnson

Currently Watching: love island uk series 4 (slowly getting through it)

Currently Eating: zucchini bread

Currently Craving: new orleans-style iced coffee

Tagging: @stellewriites @dragonnarrative-writes @ghouljams @duskier @captainjamster

@mikichko @tiggerriot @srfiv @kyletogaz

[matthewtkachuk]

you can hear it in the silence - ryan graves

Four times you think Ryan might love you, and one time you know he does

pairing: ryan graves x reader

warnings: mentions of alcohol, a little angst if you squint, slight reference to cheesy romance novels - don't come for me for referring to romeo & juliet ok

word count: 2.5k

a/n: sorry this is a little bit late - i went to toronto, got covid, and then moved right at the end of the month and i'm a poor planner 3 @gravestrain i hope you love this!!! thank you as always to @antoineroussel for not only hosting this thing and letting me borrow stef whilst giving her an americanized name and the happy ending she deserves but also doing her damnedest to fix my grammar issues (you will have to pry my run on sentences and epithets out of my cold dead hands). special shout out to @danglesnipecelly for helping me pick a name for this bad boy and to @ryngrvs and @hotanddistraught for tryin' to help me put it into words. title and inspo is of course from the cult classic "you are in love" by taylor swift

one: one look, dark room / meant just for you 

Ryan’s a friend. 

The first one you made upon your arrival in Jersey to be precise, and one who very quickly became your favorite of them all. Nico’s got good eyebrows and Jack has a sly smile and PK is always down for anything and Nate and Mikey are clearly in love—but Ryan’s easily your favorite. It’s a world you’d never belonged in before and yet one that you slip into without much difficulty. 

It starts with an invitation to sit with Nico’s girlfriend at the season opener and turns into a standing date that you only miss if you absolutely have to. The girls are fun, Steph most of all, but the other girlfriends and wives welcome you into the fray even though you hold neither title. You make it three games before Jack’s daring you to wear his jersey. Steph thinks it’s funny and Nico looks at you like he might know something you don’t, but then Ryan’s offering you his instead and you’d be lying if your traitorous heart didn’t wonder if it meant something more than friends.

You wonder that a lot, actually. 

Wonder if it’s just Ryan’s polite, Canadian nature that has him holding doors open for you and asking that you text him when you get home safe after a night out; wonder if it’s just something Ryan does, the way he memorizes your Starbucks order and knows your favorite ice cream and the exact right toppings to put on pizza; wonder if Ryan exchanges looks with anyone else—all raised eyebrows and laugh lines and upturned mouths.

The looks are secret, special. A million different words and thoughts and communications pass in a single glance meant only for you. When Jack’s being an idiot, when Steph and Nico are too cute, when you miss your drink with your mouth and end up with a barely noticeable stain on your shirt. They say things like: “are you overwhelmed? Do you want to leave?”, “are you feeling alright?”, “when was the last time you ate?”

Tonight the look is shared from across Nico and Steph’s living room. You’re being cornered by a guy who introduced himself as “The Devils Captain’s Future Cousin-In-Law” and who hasn’t shut up about the ACL injury that “kept him from going pro, but he totally could have.” You’re not entirely sure that cousin-in-law is a legal distinction, and you’ve met plenty of might-have-been pros trying to keep up with actual professional athletes, and so nothing leaving his lips is of any particular value or interest to you.

Scanning the crowd, you look for any reason or excuse to vacate the conversation, trying and failing to catch someone’s eye until Ryan looks up. He reads the distress call and rises to the occasion valiantly, all but pushing Steph’s cousin to the side in his over the top greeting to you. 

The aforementioned not-quite-major-leaguer grumbles, but quickly realizes he’s no match for the large defenceman, disappearing back into the crowd to probably find someone else to bother. 

“Thank you,” you breathe out a sigh of relief. 

“Anything for you,” is all he says before dragging you to the kitchen to make you another drink because you ‘definitely deserve one.’

“Steph, your cousin is fucking annoying,” you tell her later that night.

You fear it’s the wrong thing to say, are prepared to backtrack immediately at her shocked, silent face, but then she’s laughing. “Yeah, I know. I was going to go save you, but someone else beat me to it.” She motions toward where Ryan is standing across the dark room. You hiss and grip her wrist to get her to stop pointing, but there’s no use—half the team has looked over at your little commotion. It doesn’t matter anyway, though. 

Ryan’s eyes are only on you.

two: small talk, he drives / coffee at midnight

you: you up?

ryan: Is this a booty call?

you: *eyeroll emoji*

you: no, idiot. I can’t sleep 

ryan: Wanna go for a drive?

Fifteen minutes later you’re slipping into Ryan’s car in your favorite pajamas and an old hoodie. 

“Cute,” he chuckles, tugging on your flannel bottoms before you slap his hand away. 

“You’re one to talk,” you counter, lunging across the console to ruffle his messy hair he’s pulled back with a familiar looking scrunchie. “Is that my hair tie?” 

Ryan pauses mid laugh like he’s been caught red handed in a bank vault with a ski mask. A light blush coats his cheek and he reaches back as if to pull his hair done. “Uh, yeah. Did you want it back?”

A warm feeling fills your belly as you sit back in your seat, shaking your head. “Nah, keep it.”

He flashes that awkward grin at you and motions for you to put on your seatbelt before he puts the car into drive. He takes several twists and turns that you don’t recognize in the midnight darkness, each street sign and traffic light blurring into the next. 

“So where are we going?” You ask a few minutes later, fiddling nervously with the radio station, never letting a song play in its entirety as you search for something you don’t even know you’re searching for.

“I know a place.”

‘A place’ turns out to be a Dunkin’ Donuts beside a McDonalds and you laugh out loud when he turns into the first drive through. 

“You don’t like it?” he asks.

“I love it!”

He doesn’t even need to ask your order at either place and he certainly doesn’t take your offered wallet, just smiles at you and tells you that you can get it ‘next time.’

“Thank you for a lovely evening,” you tell him in a semi-sarcastic, overly-polite tone to mask the fact that this is one of the sweetest dates you’ve ever been on and it’s not even a date. Or, at least you don’t think it’s a date. 

The heated look in Ryan’s eyes when they quickly slide over to look at you in the passenger seat have you wondering otherwise. “Did you really think it was over?”

Twenty minutes later sees Ryan pulling over on a random dirt road outside of the city.

“Star gazing?” you ask, unable to keep the hope or the excitement out of your voice. 

He pulls a blanket out of the back seat and hops out. “C’mon.”

It’s now officially the most romantic date you’ve ever been on, cold McDonalds fries and watered down iced coffees between you be damned. 

“Look up!” He points to a shooting star blazing across the night sky. You do, your shoulders brushing against his and the moonlight glinting off the small pendant around your neck. 

He doesn’t kiss you that night, but you feel a fundamental shift in the energy of your friendship from there on out.

three: morning, his place / burnt toast, sunday

Burnt toast is a sign of a stroke, right? You wake up with a killer hangover and the aforementioned offensive smell. It’s undercut by what you hope is the strongest coffee known to man, and ultimately the promise of a caffeine fix is what gets you out of bed. There’s whistling too, you realize as you approach the kitchen, and it’s not until that whistle stops mid-note with Ryan’s shocked face that you look down at what you’re wearing. 

It’s an entirely-too-long-for-you red Devils shirt with 33 on the top right corner and you can only assume the number rests on your back too alongside his last name. It’s really not that different from the jersey you wear to every game and yet it’s completely different. More intimate somehow, despite the design being quite similar. The way his Adam's apple bobs alongside his suspended hand holding a bright yellow spatula tells you that you’re not alone in your thoughts. 

“What are you burning?” you finally break the tension with a joke. His shoulders relax before he spins back to the pan of slightly burnt eggs.

He drawls sarcastically, “It was supposed to be breakfast.”

The air crackles between the two of you as you eat silently side by side at the kitchen island save for the occasional “can you pass me that?” and “thank you.” You’re lost in thought, but so is he, contemplation written clearly across his face for you to read.

After breakfast, you put your jeans from last night back on, but you don’t change into the sparkly little top you were wearing, preferring the comforting cotton of the fanatics branded t-shirt. Ryan notices, if the way his eyes linger on the number at your shoulder is any indication. It sends a little thrill through you and reminds you of all the times you caught him looking a second longer and a touch heavier than just a friend would do. 

“I would stay for a second course of your lovely cooking,” you state with sarcasm dripping from your tongue, “but I should get home. I have a very important date.” As his eyebrows raise up toward his hairline, you find yourself stumbling over an addendum, “Uh, with my couch I mean. And Netflix. All alone.”

“Good,” he says quickly, before backtracking. “I mean, sounds good.”

When you smile at him, he relaxes but the tension doesn’t fade between you as he walks you to the door like the gentleman he is.

The kiss he presses to your cheek, right near the corner of your mouth is less gentlemanly.

“Text me when you get home safe.”

four: you kiss on sidewalks / you fight, and you talk

“Are you mad at me?” 

It’s the entirely wrong thing to say to your friend of six months turned… whatever it was you two were to each other. His shoulders are tight and there’s a stormy look overtaking his features.

“Am I mad at you?” Ryan is animated and incredulous in a way you’ve never really seen him off the ice. The fire in his eyes is one you’ve only ever witnessed right before laying a heavy check… or right after taking one from the opposition.

“Yes, are you mad at me?” Unfortunately, you’re the doubling down type 

“I am mad. And disappointed. And… and feeling pretty stupid right now!” He advances on you, but there’s nothing aggressive about his stride, even with the way his six foot five frame towers over you. It’s not aggression, but it is passion and there’s a wild frenzy about his actions. 

“Stupid? Ryan?” Your voice is so much smaller than it normally is, the dark tempest of your disposition tamed by your uncertainty in the moment.

“I lo-like you, okay?” He seems to catch himself, but you can almost hear the unsaid four letter word between you. There’s no time to dwell on it or to respond to the revelation, not with the way he slows his movements to step tentatively into your space, hands reaching for your hips and head inclining down towards yours. “As more than a friend or whatever we are. I think about you all the time. And you don’t have to feel the same, but it kills me to think of you going out on a date with some other guy.”

You’re at a loss for words—the combination of his close proximity and his unexpected confession has your brain all but short circuiting. Slowly, you speak. “I don’t want to date anyone else.”

“You don't?”

“Steph and Meg were just bugging me back there. They think it’s funny to poke fun at my lack of a dating life. Besides, everyone knows it’s you I’m crazy about,” you admit quietly. 

And just like that, right there on the sidewalk outside the team’s favorite bar, Ryan kisses you for the first time.

plus one: you’re my best friend

A road trip has Ryan getting in late. 

He’d told you that they’d had to wait for some bad weather to clear before taking off from the West coast and had offered to go back to his own apartment to let you get your rest, but you’d solidly turned that down. Besides, you were at his apartment anyway—his salary means he can afford the nicer things in life and that includes the most comfortable king size mattress you’ve ever laid upon.

You don’t regret your decision one bit. Not even when he flicks the light on in his bedroom approximately four seconds after getting in before softly apologizing and turning it back off. Not even when he stubs his toe on the dresser in the dark, a sharp curse escaping his lips without any fight. You don’t regret your decision, because after the minor interruption to your REM sleep, he’s slipping into bed next to you and pulling you close. After a long week apart, you welcome the feel of him around you and slip back into a peaceful slumber.

It could be only minutes later or several days—you sleep so peacefully when Ryan is near—when you’re woken up by the rustling of sheets and the cold absence of your boyfriend beside you. He’s sitting up in bed with the strangest look on his face. A mix of confusion and acceptance and peace alongside something else.

“Are you okay, Ry?” you ask with sleep heavy on your eyelids and weighing down your tongue. 

He doesn’t acknowledge you at first, so lost in the heavy weight of his own thoughts that you softly call his name again. This time, he turns toward you and speaks only a single phrase: “You’re my best friend.”

A single, simple phrase and yet, you knew.

He is in love and you are in love and you are in love with each other. 

Always a hopeless romantic, you’d devour cheesy romance novels as a young teenager, read thousands of books where the main characters risked everything for love. You’d always loved reading the dynamic, but you’d never understood it, not really. Not until now.

Not until your boyfriend all but declares it in the sanctity of your dark bedroom on an ordinary night just like any other. 

You understand it now, why Darcy bettered himself for Elizabeth, why Noah never gave up on Allie, even why Romeo and Juliet did what they did—even if it could have been solved with a bit of communication and maturity that two sixteen year olds were clearly lacking.

‘I love you’ is a phrase you’ve uttered millions of times in your life, but no I love you ever meant as much as Ryan’s quiet admission. 

“You’re my best friend,” you echo before pulling him in and kissing the sweet smile off his face.

[laurenairay]

Prompts?!?! 😍😍

Can I request number 1 with my vampire boyfriend, Gravy, please? ❤️

5 – “Don’t make this weird.” – Ryan Graves

956 words.

Shifted your original request to this one as we discussed Jade – I hope you enjoy it!

*

Summer in Nova Scotia was only ever made better by one thing – the return home of one of your oldest friends, Ryan Graves. The two of you had been pretty inseparable outside of hockey while you grew up together, but eventually his hockey career had made the two of you grow apart like everyone always said it would. Instagram comments and weekly texts didn’t make up for hanging out in person, and although you now each had your own lives, his return home every summer settled that piece inside of you that always felt empty when he was away.

But he was just a friend, no matter what your other friends liked to think. Sure, he was remarkably attractive – you could admit that much – but there had never been anything between you like that, and you were more than happy with just being friends. He was important, and there was nothing you would do to risk that.

Being around him, at barbecues in your friend’s backyard like this, was more than enough.

“Here’s your burger! Extra cheese, no onions.”

You looked up at Ryan from where you were sitting, smiling at him as he passed you the plate of food. He really was such a sweetheart. “Thanks! I didn’t realise they were ready.”

Ryan just shrugged, smiling back at you. “I figured I’d save you the trip across the yard. Do you want a fresh drink too?”

He wiggled his own empty bottle, letting you know he’d be getting one for himself too, so you shrugged. This guy was just a thoughtful as he was pretty, wasn’t he?

“Sure, why not. Thanks!” you said happily.

Ryan sent you another blinding smile before heading across the yard. You turned back to your circle of friends with a smile on your face, only to see them all grinning at you, making you roll your eyes.

“Don’t make this weird,” you groaned.

“Weird? Oh yeah there’s nothing weird about him bringing you over a plate of food and then immediately leaving to get you a new drink,” your friend grinned, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Basically waiting on your hand and foot.”

“I haven’t even had that from my boyfriend and we’ve been together for five years now!”

“And you still think Ryan’s not interested in being more than friends?”

They all finished chiming in with grins on their faces, staring at you intensely, while all you could do was sit there in a stunned silence with your cheeks flaring with heat. Where was this coming from?

“Come on, you know it’s not like that,” you said weakly, wincing at their unimpressed expressions.

“Think about it, yeah? Really think about it. Because I promise you, what he’s doing isn’t just being friendly,” you friend pointed out.

“Speak of the Devil…”

You glanced to your left to see Ryan wandering back over, two drinks in hand, and looked back to your friends only for them to all stand up and walk away with incredibly unsubtle winks.

“Wow, was it something I said?” Ryan mused.

“It really wasn’t. They think they’re funny,” you sighed, taking the offered drink from his hand.

“Oh?” he prompted, sitting down in the chair next to you.

You lightly bit your bottom lip, drawing it inwards as you considered what your next words should be. Were your friends right? Was Ryan just being friendly or was it more? Was it even worth taking that chance?

“Is everything okay?” Ryan asked softly, forehead creasing slightly in worry.

Fuck it. Ryan wasn’t the type of guy to get offended easily, and you knew that even if it was just him being friendly, he wouldn’t make a big deal of you just being blunt with him. It was better to clear the air than have the wondering stewing up inside of you, right?

“The girls think that you getting my food and drinks isn’t just you being friendly,” you eventually said.

“Oh, well, I uh…”

Well, shit. There was your answer then. So why did it feel so disappointing?

“Hey, Ryan, it’s okay. Like I said, they think they’re funny,” you shrugged, smiling tightly.

“No, it’s not that. I just…they’re right? I just didn’t know you hadn’t realised it too,” Ryan winced.

Oh.

Oh.

“Wait, what? Really?” you said, more than a little stunned.

Ryan Graves, your Ryan, wasn’t just being friendly? He really did want to be more than friends?

“Really really,” he laughed, pale cheeks flushing slightly, “If I’d known you didn’t have a clue that I like you, then I would’ve tried to be more obvious about it.”

Now it was your turn for heat to rush to your cheeks. Had you really been that oblivious?

“Maybe if you’d told me with words rather than subtle actions…” you teased.

“That probably would’ve been the best way of going about it, sure,” Ryan grinned, nodding his head in agreement, “It was hard enough worrying if you were going to reject me.”

Reject him? Not a chance. Even if you hadn’t known or realised what he’d been subtly doing, there’s no way you would’ve turned him down. It’s Ryan, come on.

“You were really that worried?” you asked, frowning slightly.

He let out a shaky breath, before nodding, making you a frown a little more. No, that wouldn’t do. If he could be brave, then so could you.

“Maybe you should take me out to dinner, tell me all about those nerves,” you said simply, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah?” Ryan said, smile slowly returning, kicking off the butterflies in your stomach, “I think I can manage that. How does Friday night sound?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you said, smiling back at him.

What a summer this was going to be.

[nhl-stories]

Series Playlist

Part one

Part two

Part three

Part four

Part five

Part six

Part seven

Part eight.one

Part eight.two

…Young people fall in love, With the wrong people sometimes…

I jumped up when I heard Gretchen’s keys jiggling into the lock, I hadn’t seen her since I signed the new contract. I didn’t even let her set down her bags before I jumped on her like a dog, overly excited for their owner to come home.

We crash to the floor and I give her a quick kiss and she gently cups my face.

“I’m really proud of you Ry,” her smile doesn’t reach her eyes but in the moment I don’t quite notice.

I’ll notice all these little things when I replay every moment in my head, searching for signs.

I pull her up to her feet and move my hands to cover her eyes, “There’s one more surprise.”

She lets out a heavy sigh and I can tell she’s rolling her eyes under my hands, “The first part wasn’t really a surprise, I get notifications on my phone, and you called me immediately after it happened.”

I lead her into the living room and remove my hands.

“Oh my god,” she covers her mouth and tears immediately begin to flow.

She walks up to the baby grand piano, running her fingers over the ornate carvings in the wood.

“I just thought we’re finally going to be in one place for a while and you haven’t had a real piano in such a long time so I wanted to get you your dream piano, or close to your dream piano.”

The tears are really pouring now, “It’s really beautiful.”

“Well go ahead, play it. I got a professional tuner to come by and everything, so it’s more than ready for you.”

“Ryan,” she swallows hard, “I want a divorce.”