#someone save the prop team
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
thedevilsniki · 4 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
His kitten fangs! 🥺🥹
178 notes · View notes
notenoughdragons · 7 days ago
Text
i just got to the big backstory dump (aka the ~dread wolf's~ regrets/memories) in veilguard and. uh.
obvious caveat, i'm not done yet with the game, but anyways
h o w is this so neat (solas Was a spirit! origin of first elves! reason for the war with the titans! concrete blight origin!) and yet ALSO THE MESSIEST FUCKING SHIT
i canNOT imagine they had this whole blighted-gods-will-break-the-prison thing planned during trespasser/da:i like. the disconnect??? yes, solas obvs knows SOMETHING about the blight in da:i, but EVERYTHING he says is about the veil, about the mistake he made and what it cost the elves/spirits
LIKE CAN WE BE CLEAR HERE!!! "the blighted evanuris are going to break out of their prison so i need to put them in a different one" is an UTTERLY different argument to "i (ACCIDENTALLY, APPARENTLY) made the veil Too Big and it fucked up everything so i need to fix it"
like even ignoring all the ways this doesn't gel with trespasser/tevinter nights/etc, and how apparently nothing the inq did wrt solas mattered EVEN A LITTLE BIT it's fine i'm fine i just have to play cognitive dissonance any time either of them opens their fucking mouth
this is fucking messy as hell in veilguard alone??
how does this not come up in ANY of the arguments prior to this. like solas Tells Rook that he wanted to transfer the evanuris bc more secure prison and 'YOU COULD'VE SAID THAT' is? not? one of the dialogue options??
but also varric keeps harping how solas wants someone to sell him a better option, solas himself sounds bitter as fuck that no one actually managed that during the ritual convo
it's like 2 separate arguments trying to happen in tandem and NEITHER OF THEM actually works
like i legit don't know anymore what they're trying to do here? 1st they completely sidestep the core (emotional) conflict set up by da:i and trespasser (can you convince solas otherwise, and if not, How on earth do you stop him? => lol nevermind you can't, and stopping him is super easy actually), then they… bring it back in? kind of?? (varric, lace, inq, and now morrigan all making points re: maybe you can talk him around somehow/influence his fate) With A Character Who Has 0 Emotional Connection To Him, it's fiiiine but then also the whole blighted-evanuris-will-break-free angle is. There. and it's just, what are we actually arguing about now???
also i'm just gonna say it. absolutely not a fan of the implication that the veil in its current form was Fully an accident. like can we stop absolving this man of responsibility (the veil was an accident! mythal made him do all of it!) and at the same time heaping more blame on him in the weirdest fucking ways (still the veil! the blight! dwarves not dreaming!)
i Liked that the veil was smth he created knowingly, bc it was the least horrible, but still Horrible option, and he still underestimated how bad it would be. that's good drama! good tragedy! you thought you could live with the consequences but you can't! and bc you Knowingly and Deliberately made that choice, now you are convinced to the nonexistent marrow of your bones that you specifically HAVE to undo it!
instead it's like. welp the evanuris are gonna break out soon so i gotta put them in a different, Better prison (which is somehow real easy this time around????), and i Might As Well pull down the veil too and get that mistake sorted out
fucking christ.
AND WE'RE STILL NOT TALKING ABOUT THE FACT THAT SOLAS CAN CLEANSE THE GODDAMN BLIGHT
also they nerfed mythal. both in the backstory character-wise, and narratively in the present, bc welp! she's just here to drop some vague lore and info! and then they fucking pulled a mystra on the fragment of her that you Do actually get to meet. where is my horrific dragon all-mother goddess
(not even joking, they should've just gotten flemeth's va for her, this one has like. 0 presence in comparison.)
like. stay with me here. yes i know the point is that the evanuris weren't Actually gods. but also they're 1. literally a diff type of being than modern people. 2. for someone to be seen AS A GOD, even falsely, in a world that is as infused with magic and buckwild shit that we know ancient arlathan to be? i'm expecting more than the most milquetoast glowing elf lady you've ever seen
dumping the sentinel designs from da:i was a Mistake, and okay Now i can climb off my soapbox, tyvm everyone
15 notes · View notes
andragoras-in-vanity · 2 months ago
Text
god i love james wans movies, theyre so bad but so good
#like some of them are bad at being horror but good at being drama and im here for it#i have mixed feelings about the warrens irl but them in the movies 😭😭 i need a husband like that#i hate them they made me attracted to patrick wilson and thats not okay#but fuck by the third movie lorraine knowing him so well she keeps his heart medication in her locket😭😭😭#because he goes running without thought to save her even when she doesnt need saving#even when she CAN handle it herslef she never needs to push through the worry or fear#because he just always instantly there#but as for the annabelle movies i still think the real doll is creepier than the dead silence leftover prop BUT he or someone on his team#knows not only horror but ghosts#and its impressive to me all the things they split between annabelle and the nun/valak that are legitimate haunting experiences#its the room turning darker the longer you look into it amd the horned things smile#and the yellow eyes that they onlt gave to the nun#because i honestly believe that showing it in its true form with all of these traits would give it power#and like...release it#anyway the two movies i wanted to watch arent up for streaming ans im too lazy to get my laptop out for it#cause im actually maybe gonna play a game on it duh#but fuck i do think james wan doesnt pull punches with jumpscares while also creating compelling characters#especially if those characters are fully damned from the beginning#idk maybe i feel this way because of my paranormal experiences but i genuinely do like jumpscare horror when its done well#becayse his is#and also he know how just Bad malignant was and he did it anyway😭#annabell creation was the best by far tho horrorwise#plotwise i do love the conjuring 2 even though they werent involved with the enfield haunting#after their initial interview they werw told to fuck off by the family ans morris rosse was the main investigator#but valak was sexy and it was such a lovely portrayal of their relationship#tbh annabelle is good but it just makes me a little sad because she nearly loses her baby#that stuff kinda gets to me not as horror but as like a personal thing#ill still watch it tho im not a baby i can deal with that shit but just i know i probably cant have kids and wouldnt survive if i tried so#anyway james wan haters get fucked his movies are good when hes the one directing them
1 note · View note
silverb0wties · 25 days ago
Text
Lemonade - Part 1
Tumblr media
Lemonade || leah williamson x alessia russo x child!reader
Summary: When something bad happens to your Mummy and Daddy, you end up living with your Aunty Lessi and Aunty Leah.  But is there room for you considering they have a new baby on the way?
Chapter Warnings: death, pregnancy, mentions of stillbirth, house fire, hospitals & doctors
a/n: In this universe Alessia has a fictional older sister
~ I originally posted this a while ago but took it down because I received a bunch of hate for it. A few very nice people have encouraged me to put it back up, so I will see how I go. Constructive criticism is always welcome, but if you don't like this, please just scroll by. 💜 ~
PART 1
--
You didn’t fully remember what had happened that night.
It had all started off very typical.  You’d had tea and a bath and watched a bit of telly before heading upstairs to your room for bed.  You were 7 now and a big girl, and certain you didn’t need tucking in anymore, so you gave your Mummy and Daddy kisses and cuddles before you went to brush your teeth and then snuggled under your bed covers to keep reading your current library book, Matilda. 
At some point you must have dozed off, because you woke up as your Daddy popped his head in through your door to check on you.
“You alright, Bunny?” he asked.  Your nickname had been Bunny for as long as you could remember.  You had been given a bunny stuffie named Arthur by your Nana on the day you were born, and he had been your trusty companion ever since.  Bunnies were also your favourite animal, however you weren’t allowed one as a pet because your Daddy was allergic.  Apparently that meant he came up in big bright red spots whenever he got near one.  Surely there was some kind of cream that though.
“Can I come sleep in your bed with you and Mummy?” You had made sure to use your biggest, pleading eyes to try and convince him.
“Ohh alright.  But you have to remember to be careful of Mummy’s leg, okay?”
Mummy had hurt her leg a couple of weeks before.  She had been playing netball when someone on the other team had crashed into her and she landed poorly.  You weren’t totally sure what was wrong, but you knew that it was apparently worse than whatever Aunty Leah had done to her leg.  But it was also not as bad because your Mummy wasn’t a professional at netball, she just played for fun, and you think maybe they also won some wine sometimes but you’re not 100% sure.  Anyways, she had to go to hospital and have an operation and now she was on crutches (which you weren’t allowed to play on) and you had to help around the house a bit more because it was tricky for Mummy to get around.  You didn’t mind though, you were happy to be her little helper.
As you reached your parents room (Arthur clutched tightly under your arm), you found your Mummy already in the bed, her leg propped up on a pillow under the blanket.  Before she had a chance to ask what you were doing there, you quickly rattled out “Daddy said I could come sleep with you, please please please!”
Your Mummy just laughed and patted the spot beside her on the bed.  A few moments later you and Arthur were snuggled under the covers between your Mummy and Daddy and drifting soundly back to sleep.
The next time you awoke it was to a screeching alarm, one you recognised from when Daddy had tried to bake Mummy a birthday cake but had burned it really, really badly.
“Bunny!  Sweetie, wake up!”
As you opened your eyes you realised you were surrounded by thick black smoke.  Your chest felt tight, and the smoke stung your eyes so badly you couldn’t keep them open.  Everything felt foggy and faint and you could feel yourself quickly falling back asleep.
“Just take her! Save her! Get her out!”
You heard your Mummy’s screams over the blaring of the alarm.  You would hear those screams in your nightmares for the rest of your life.
The next thing you remember was being outside your house and your neighbour Mrs Green was passing you to an ambulance man.  You had Arthur clutched in your hand by his ear as the man lay you down on a wheely bed and put a funny smelling mask over your nose and mouth.
Then you were at the hospital and there was lots of nurses and doctors scrambling around, poking and prodding you.  You had still had the mask on your face that was filling your mouth and nose with funny smelling air.  There was a big needle sticking into your arm connected to a bag on a pole that kind of hurt a bit.  But worst of all, at some point you had lost hold of Arthur, and you could see him lying sadly on a bench across the room.
“She’s awake.”
“Y/N.  Hi, my name is Doctor Smith.  We’re just looking over you to make sure you’re doing okay.  We’ll get you back to a room really soon and then you can see your family, okay?”
Your family was here!  Thank goodness.  Whatever had happened, your Mummy and Daddy were fine and you would see them real soon.
You breathed a small sigh of relief but still reached out instinctively for Arthur.  A nice nurse with dark hair and big, round glasses noticed and looked over at the bunny.
“Is he your special friend?”
You nodded frantically.
“He’s very dirty at the moment, so he’s going to need a bath before you get him back for cuddles, I think.”
You realised that his normally light purple fur was closer to a dark grey colour, but you couldn’t understand how he got so dirty.  Surely a bit of smoke doesn’t get a bunny that dirty. 
And then it hit you.
Smoke.
You’d only seen smoke come from a few things in real life before:
When your Daddy had burned that birthday cake
From the cigarettes the old ladies who sat outside the newsagents smoked
When there was lots of pretty fireworks and sparklers after Aunty Lessi and Leah won a big trophy
After you blew your birthday candles out
Smoke came from burning things.  Had Arthur been burned?
Before you could ask any questions, you were being wheeled into a room where your Nana and Aunty Lessi were.  You loved your Nana and your Aunty Lessi, you really did, but you wanted your Mummy and Daddy.  Where were your Mummy and Daddy?
“Oh Y/N, oh sweetie.  Oh, thank God you’re okay.”  Your Nana was crying as she reached for your hand and kissed your forehead.
You tuned out your Nana and the doctor’s conversation as out of the corner of your eye you spotted the nice nurse with the big, round glasses hand over Arthur, who had now been put in a plastic zippy bag, to your Aunty Lessi.  She whispered something to her you didn’t hear and Aunty Lessi nodded and put him carefully in a big sleepover bag she had with her.  You wondered why she had a sleepover bag with her here at the hospital.
“Does she know about…?” your Nana asked.
“No.  We thought it best that she heard it from family.”
You snapped back to the conversation going on over your head at these words, catching your Nana nodding as she wiped some more tears away from the corner of her eye.
“We’ll leave you be to have some privacy.  One of the nurses will be back in a while to check on her, but of course, don’t hesitate to press the buzzer if you need anything.”
As all the hospital staff left, your Aunty Lessi came around to the other side of the bed and gave you a hug as best as she could, trying not to bump your mask or the big needle in your arm.
“Nan-” you attempted to talk, but the smelly mask on your face was making your words sound all mumbly jumbly.  You also noticed that it hurt a bit in your chest and throat when you tried to speak, your hand automatically coming up to rest on your neck.
“It’s okay sweetheart, you don’t need to speak.  You just rest, okay?” your Nana told you.
You nodded, aware that there was something going on.  Something definitely wasn’t right.  Your eyes flicked between the two women, noticing that their eyes were red and puffy as though they’d been doing lots of crying. 
After a long, awkward silence that seemed to stretch on forever and ever, your Aunty Lessi finally started to speak. 
“Bunny, sweetie, there was a fire at your house.  We don’t know how or where it started, but there was a very bad fire, and it looks like it has destroyed the whole house.”
Your eyes widened as you began to put it all together – the smoke, the alarm, your Mummy screaming…
“Sweetheart, your Mummy and Daddy didn’t make it out.  We don’t know a whole lot yet, but we know that your Daddy ran out of the house with you and gave you to a neighbour.  You were very poorly and not breathing very well, and that’s why you’ve got to wear this mask to help you breathe.  He went back into the house, we can only assume to try and help your Mummy because she can’t… umm couldn’t move around too well because of her leg.  But they never made it out of the house.”
You didn’t really understand.  What did she mean they never made it out of the house?  Where did they go?  Where are they now?
“Bunny, do you understand what I’m saying?” your Aunty Lessi asked.
You shook your head furiously.  You just wanted to see your Mummy and Daddy.  Why weren’t they here?  Were they hurt?  Were they also lying in beds somewhere with masks on their faces and needles in their arms?
Your Nana stood up from her chair and sat down softly on the bed beside you.  She stroked her hand over your face a few times before cupping your cheek gently in her hands.
“I’m so sorry, Bun… Your Mummy and Daddy, they… oh Less, I can’t.  I can’t say it…”
Your Nana pulled away from you, burying her head in her hands as she stood up and turned away slightly.
“It’s okay, Mum.  I’ve… I’ve got it.”
Your Aunty Lessi swopped in and scooped your face gently into her hands, running her thumbs soothingly over your cheeks as you looked at her with confusion.
“Bunny sweetie, your Mummy and Daddy… d-died.”
You think your Aunty Lessi kept talking but her words just faded into background noise as you tuned out everything around you.  You were there, but not really.  Your body was, but your brain was just running over the words “Mummy and Daddy died” over and over and over and over until they lost all meaning.
Mummy died.
Daddy died.
Mummy and Daddy died.
You felt sad, but mostly you just felt kind of… nothing.  It felt almost like the sadness was a balloon that grew too big, too fast and it had popped and now all you were left with was nothing.
In the movies and in your books when people died, their family cried lots and lots.  Your Nana was crying, and it seemed like your Aunty had been crying.  But you didn’t feel like crying.  You did really, really feel like rubbing the soft fur of Arthurs ear across your cheek over and over and over though.
--
You had stayed in the hospital for a few nights before they let you go home. 
Well, not really home.
But your new home.
You were going to live with your Aunty Lessi and Aunty Leah.  Your Aunty Lessi was your Mummy’s sister and Aunty Leah was her wife.  They both played football for their jobs and travelled a lot.  Before… well, before, you would go and visit them, or they would come visit and you would tell them all about the books you’d been reading and what you’d been learning in school and show them all the different breeds of rabbits there were in the big scrap book you’d been putting together.  That scrapbook was gone now though.  You weren’t sure if you would start making a new one.
Your Aunty Lessi had the most beautiful smile, and she always seemed to be able to make everyone laugh and be happy.  And your Aunty Leah was always a really good listener, and she gave the most excellent hugs.  Sometimes you would go and watch them play football, but you weren’t really interested in sports.  It was always too loud and there was way too many people there.  But it was always exciting when your Aunty Lessi would score a goal though, because if she knew you were in the crowd, she would point in your direction and make a heart with her hands.
You liked your Aunties. You loved them.  But you’d never spent the night at their house or had a sleepover with them.  You didn’t know any of the rules, and you didn’t have your Mummy to remind you of them before you went.  You wanted to be on your bestest behaviour, having read far too many stories and seen too many television shows about children whose parents died and then their new families treated them poorly.  You didn’t think you’d do very well in an orphanage or living on the streets.  You weren’t very tough like those kids were.
You’re not quite sure what to think of your new room at your Aunty Lessi and Leah’s house.  It’s very… adult.  A bit boring to be honest.  Just a big adult bed, a dresser and two bedside tables.  There is a big window however that overlooks the back garden that you quite like.  But you’re just grateful for somewhere to sleep really, thankful that your Aunties are letting you stay here at all.  You’d happily sleep on the loungeroom floor. 
“We will pretty it up and get you lots of new toys and decorate it however you want, Bun.”  Your Aunty Lessi was stroking your hair as you cuddled into her side.  “This is just temporary until your new bed and furniture arrives and we get you all settled in, okay?”
You nodded gently, not really knowing how else to respond.  You were a bit shocked that they’d ordered you a new bed and were going to get you new toys.
“We did get you a few things to start you off with, just until we can all get down to the shops together to pick out some stuff.  I hope they’re okay…” Your Aunty Leah gestured towards the corner where you could see a few boxes and some brightly coloured stuffies peeking out through the handles of some shopping bags.  You looked up at her and blinked, unsure as to whether you were meant to thank her or go and inspect the items or what.
“We can go through that stuff later if you like?” Aunty Lessi suggested, squeezing your shoulder.  “How about we grab something to eat for lunch?”
Just as you were turning to leave the room, a tuft of light purple fluff caught your eye among the bags.
"Is that Arthur?" you asked.
"Oh, your bunny? Yes, Aunty Leah gave him a really good bath and got him all clean again."
You dashed forward and grabbed him from the pile of other toys and clothing, bringing him up to your face to rub his soft ears over your cheeks.
You wanted to say thank you, but those words didn't seem big enough. Instead, you hoped that someday, somehow you would be able to somewhat show your Aunties how much you appreciated them.
With Arthur now tucked under your arm, the three of you made your way down the hall towards the stairs.
“Oh, and remember that is mine and Aunty Lessi’s room,” Aunty Leah gestured towards a door on the right of the hall, pushing it open with her foot.  “If you ever need anything during the night, please don’t hesitate to come and get us.  I’m up and down all throughout the night going to the loo anyways because of this one,” she smirked as she rubbed her growing belly.
“Does it hurt? Growing a baby?”
You don’t really know why you asked.  You were curious, sure.  Your own tummy hurt a bit when you ate too much food, so surely having a baby in there hurt lots.  But now definitely wasn’t the time to ask that kind of question.  
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.  
However your Aunty Leah just chuckled and nodded at you.  “It doesn’t exactly hurt, but it is rather uncomfortable at times, especially if the baby moves into an awkward position or kicks a weird spot.”
“The baby kicks you?” you asked.
“Oh yeah!  They’re gonna be a striker just like your Aunty Less, I’m sure of it!”
Aunty Lessi nudged you and pointed at your hand.  “You might actually be able to feel the baby move some time, Bunny”
“Really? Could I?”
Your Aunty Leah’s smile was a big and bright as you’d ever seen it.  “They’re moving around now.  Do you want to try and feel?”
You nodded excitedly.  You had always wanted a baby brother or sister.  Your Mummy and Daddy had told you once that there was one on the way, but then a while later when they’d gone to the hospital, they came home really sad and said that baby brother was born sleeping. 
You had only just turned 4 when that happened, and you didn’t understand why they didn’t just wake him up.  But Daddy explained that that is what people sometimes say when the baby isn’t born alive.
Mummy had been sad for what seemed like years after that.  She spent a lot of time in bed, and she cried more than you’d ever seen her cry before in your life.  You’d tried to cheer her up by drawing her pictures and singing her songs and giving her your biggest, bestest cuddles.  But Daddy said the only thing that would make Mummy better was time. 
He was right.  She had slowly returned to her normal self.  You were very grateful, because you had missed the little things like the silly songs she would sing when she would wash your hair, and the smiley faces she would make out of blueberries in your pancakes.
As your Aunty Leah gently cradled your hand and brought it up to her swollen tummy, you felt a small whooshing movement under your little hand.
“Did you feel that?”
You nodded quickly, your gaze meeting your Aunty Leah’s as she smiled tenderly at you.  You couldn’t believe you could feel the baby moving in her tummy.  It all started to feel very real.
“They’re moving around quite a bit tonight.  I think they’re quite excited to have you here with us, Bun.”
“Do you know if it’s a boy or girl?” you asked.
“No, we decided to wait until the baby is born to find out and let it be a surprise.  We really don’t mind what their gender is, we’re just excited for them to be here and to meet them.  Oh, there they go again, did you feel that kick?”
You nodded again, pulling your hand away from your Aunty Leah’s tummy as a sinking feeling began settling in your own.
You knew you weren’t a part of your Aunties plan.  They were having a baby, and becoming Mums, which you were sure was something new and super exciting for them.  But now they also had you to look after as well, which they weren’t expecting and had probably changed so many things for them.  Surely, surely they would be much happier without you here ruining their perfect new little family? 
328 notes · View notes
temporarywelcome · 1 month ago
Text
Late - Spencer Reid
Wordcount: 969
Summary: getting ready for a Halloween party with Spencer
Warnings: some swearing
A/N: technically a pt 2 of "Costumes" (can be found on Masterlist), but can 100% be read stand alone
_________
Spencer was lucky as hell she loved him to bits.
She stood in this fuck ass costume as he yapped and yapped about some fantasy series. She was dressed as the main woman, he was the main man. 
Y/N could care less for Halloween. But because her boyfriend and his persuasiveness (he just had big brown eyes, for fuck’s sake) (oh, and he offered to let her handcuff him) demanded they got into the holiday spirit, she folded. Almost instantly. 
So, being as whipped as she was for him, she did fall activities like pumpkin carving, apple picking, making a billion pastries with said apples, corn mazes, fall movies (some not even horror, to her disdain), and of course, dressed up for a Halloween party as a nerd character he wanted her to dress up in. 
To add, she took the time to sew them herself. Anything to make that brat happy. 
“I spoil you too much,” she grumbled, forcing him to still so she could fix his costume. 
“I feel it is a perfect amount,” he grinned at her through the mirror, “I know I complain about dating someone in the arts literally all the time, but I take it all back. You’re awesome.”
“Gee thanks, glad I’ve now become of used to you,” she deadpanned, “Glad my costume design abilities are to your standards,”
“They are, it looks so realistic,” Spencer replied, not catching her sarcasm, “I love it, thank you so much for doing this for me. I know you didn’t want to,”
She hummed, pressing a kiss to his shoulder from behind. Luckily, she was in heels, because he’s tall, “Yeah yeah yeah. You know I can’t say no to you,” she squeezed his hip lightly before pulling back, “Now hurry up, we’re going to be late,”
“You sound eager,” he said smugly, taking a seat to slip on some boots (that she had to buy, of course).
“No, I don’t,” Y/N huffed, “I just don’t want to hear the passenger princess complain and complain while I’m forced to drive,”
“I don’t complain,”
“Oh my Goddddd that’s the biggest lie I’ve ever heard,” she rolled her eyes before doing a quick eyeliner wing, being the expert performer she was. Always had to be quick. “The fact your team doesn’t know this is crazy, you must be saving the brattiness just for me,” 
“You bring it out of me, I guess,”
“See? Spoiled,” she laughed, doing the other eyes. 
“Well, do you want me to be like this with other people?” he raised a brow at her.
“No, I have to make the sacrifice to protect others,” Y/N said dramatically, being the woman of the arts she was. 
“You’re so selfless,” Spencer said dryly, biting his lips to hold back a little giggle, “Sacrificing yourself so others don’t have to hear my mouth,”
Y/N stood back up to grab her bag and the prop sword he forced her to buy, “You’re lucky I love you, brat,” she playfully bonked his head with the sword.
“You’ll mess up my hair!” he swatted it away with a huff, “Asshole,” 
She bonked his head again, “I think I’m allowed to be a little playful considering what you’re forcing me to do,”
“A Halloween party, the horror,” he rolled his eyes as he stood up, arms going around her waist, “You’re so dramatic,” His eyes lit up, “Wait! Can you help me?” he holds up an eyeliner pencil to her.
“Ah, babe, I’m a liquid liner person, but I’ll try,” she laughed softly, pushing him to sit down. Straddling his lap, she carefully began applying the eyeliner to his waterline.
“Ah ah ow! Ow! Holy shit how do girls do this shit shit shit!” On reflex, he slapped her hand away, blinking repeatedly.
“Stop moving and it won’t hurt,” Y/N grumbled, gripping his chin in a semi-tight manner, “Now stay still,” she came at him with the pencil again.
As soon as the tip pressed against his waterline, he was cursing again, “Shit shit shit shit ow ow ow!” he pushed her hand away again, “How do you do this every day?”
“I use liquid,” she reminded him before scolding him once again, “Now stop moving,” 
“It’s hard,” Spencer whined, biting his bottom lip.
Y/N rolled her eyes, “Baby you go face-to-face with unsubs without even blinking. I think you can handle an eyeliner pencil. Now stay. Still.”
“Yes ma’am,” he grumbled back at her, hands going to her hips as she went in to do the damn eyeliner once again, “Can I squeeze you if I get scared?” Spencer asked teasingly, leaning closer.
“Move one more time and I’ll poke your eyes out,”
“I love you too,”
“Hardy har har,” she rolled her eyes, finally able to do the waterline, “A miracle has graced us! It has been done!”
“Thank you, babe,” Spencer practically threw her off of him to see how he looked in the mirror.
Of course, she dramatically crumpled to the floor, “Oh, how I despise this treatment. Always used, never loved,”
“Get off the floor you’re going to ruin your costume!” Spencer gasped, yanking her to her feet.
“Wow,” she brought her arms around his neck, “You care more about the costume than the fact I feel used and unloved?” 
“Ignoring you,” he said dryly, leaning his forehead against hers, “Save the drama for the stage, I beg of you,” he turned his head to the clock on the wall, checking the time, “Shit! We’re late!” he gripped her hand, dragging her out of the room in hurry.
“Great, now you're going to be on my ass the whole ride,” Y/N grumbled out, following him. 
Spencer glared at her over his shoulder, “No, I'm not.”
He so was.
158 notes · View notes
rosemariiaa · 3 months ago
Text
~Lines We Drew~
part: 1
pairing- Paige x Azzi
oookay hi guys! idk how many requests i’ve gotten in my inbox for this kind of fic for pazzi but I finally tried to work up something last night! (don’t tell me you don’t like it , i will be upset)
warning: language
Enjoy!!!
Paige Bueckers had heard the news weeks before the official announcement: Azzi Fudd was coming to UConn. The so-called “golden girl” of high school basketball, the first pick in her class and NPOY, the one everyone couldn’t stop talking about. And Paige couldn’t have been less thrilled.
“Come on, Paige. She’s not even here yet, and you’re already acting all grumpy,” Nika ribbed as they lounged in their dorm room, prepping for the new season. “Besides, she is real pretty. You should be excited. Maybe you’ll finally find someone who can keep up with you.”
Paige scoffed, rolling her eyes. “I don’t need someone to keep up with me, Nika. And I’m not grumpy. I just don’t get what the big deal is.”
KK, lying on her bed with her feet propped up on the wall, chimed in, “The big deal is she’s gonna be a star. You know that, right? The two of you together on the court—UConn’s gonna be unstoppable and on the road to the national chip, yes ma’am.” Kk exclaimed, pumping her fist in the air.
“Yeah, if we can stand to be on the same court without killing each other,” Paige muttered, more to herself than anyone else. But of course, Nika heard her and threw a pillow at her head.
“Stop being such a brat. You barely even know her. Maybe you’ll actually like her once you get to know her.” “Doubt it,” Paige grumbled, tossing the pillow back at Nika.
“Why don’t you like her anyway?” Ayanna asked from her corner of the room, where she was scrolling through her phone. “You guys don’t even know each other like that.”
Paige shrugged, knowing she didn’t have a good answer to tell her friends, she knows if she tells them something else, all hell will break loose. “We just… don’t click, okay? I dunno. She’s just not my type of person.”
KK rolled her eyes. “Girl boo save the excuses .” Paige didn’t respond, sinking deeper into her thoughts. She wasn’t going to be a bitch—she just wasn’t going to go out of her way to be friendly either.
The day Azzi arrived at UConn, it felt like the entire campus was buzzing. Paige’s friends were all smiles, eager to meet the new star recruit. Paige tagged along reluctantly as they headed over to the dorms where Azzi would be living.
When they got there, Azzi was already surrounded by some of the team, all of them helping her move in. Paige hung back, crossing her arms and watching as Caroline and Aubrey joked with Azzi as they were old friends.
“Ice, you gotta help me lift this,” Caroline called, motioning to a heavy-looking box. Ice, who was taller and definitely stronger, easily lifted the box and carried it into the dorm.
“Thanks, Carol,” Azzi said, smiling. “I think that’s the last of it.” “No problem,” Caroline replied, wiping her hands on her shorts. “We’re all in this together now.”
Paige tried to keep her expression neutral as Azzi glanced over at her. Their eyes met for a split second, and Paige felt a jolt of something she couldn’t quite name. It wasn’t exactly anger, but it wasn’t friendly either. She quickly looked away, pretending to be interested in something on her phone.
“Oh, hey Paige,” Azzi said, her voice polite but not overly friendly. “Didn’t see you there.” Paige nodded stiffly. “Yeah, I’m just here with the girls.”
Azzi nodded back, the silence between them awkward. Caroline, ever the peacemaker, jumped in. “Paige, why don’t you help Azzi get her room set up? She’s rooming with me, Aubrey, and Ice.”
Paige wanted to say no, but everyone was looking at her expectantly, so she forced a smile. “Sure. I can help.”
She followed Azzi and the others into the dorm, feeling like she was walking into enemy territory. Aubrey was already inside, arranging some of her things, and when she saw Paige, she grinned.
“Hey, Paige! Look at you, helping out. Maybe there’s hope for you yet,” Aubrey teased.
Paige rolled her eyes but smiled a little. Aubrey had a way of making her feel at ease, even when she didn’t want to be. “Yeah, yeah. Just trying to be a team player.” As they unpacked, the conversation flowed easily among the group, but Paige stayed mostly quiet, only speaking when directly addressed. Azzi seemed content to ignore her as well, which suited Paige just fine.
After they finished, Ice stretched her arms over her head and sighed. “Man, moving is exhausting. I’m starving.”
“Let’s grab something to eat,” Caroline suggested. “We can all go together. You in, Paige?”
Paige hesitated, glancing at Azzi, who was wiping sweat from her brow. She really didn’t want to spend any more time around her than necessary, but she knew saying no would make her look petty. So she nodded. “Yeah, sure.”
They all headed to a nearby café, where they pushed a bunch of tables together to accommodate the group. Paige ended up sitting across from Azzi, who was chatting with Aubrey and Caroline. Paige focused on her menu, trying to ignore the way Azzi’s laugh seemed to fill the whole space.
“Azzi, you’ve gotta try the chicken wrap here. It’s the best,” Caroline said, pointing to the menu.
Azzi smiled. “Ouuu that sounds good actually, thanks for the recommendation. I’ll take your word for it.”
Paige couldn’t help herself. “You don’t have to take her word for it, you know. You’re capable of making your own decisions.”
Azzi looked up at her, a spark of defiance in her eyes. “I’m aware, Paige. But sometimes it’s nice to get suggestions from friends.”
“Friends,” Paige echoed, her tone flat. “Right.”
Azzi’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Are you always this charming, or is it just me?” Paige blinked, momentarily taken aback. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Azzi shrugged. “Just making an observation.”
Paige opened her mouth to retort, but the words caught in her throat. She wasn’t used to being challenged, and Azzi’s calm yet sharp response threw her off balance. Instead, she just looked away, focusing on her food.
The table fell silent for a moment, the tension palpable. Aubrey cleared her throat, clearly trying to change the subject. “So, Azzi, what do you think of the campus so far?”
Azzi’s expression softened, and she started talking about how much she liked the facilities and how excited she was to start training. Paige tuned out most of the conversation, focusing on her food instead.
But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t ignore the way Azzi’s voice seemed to weave into her thoughts, making it impossible to completely block her out. And the more she tried, the more frustrated she became.
By the time they finished eating, Paige was more than ready to leave. As they walked back to the dorms, KK and Nika fell into step beside her, nudging her playfully.
“Why do you gotta be so mean to her?” KK asked, not really expecting an answer. “She’s actually super cool.”
Paige sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I’m not being mean. I told you we just… don’t click. It’s not that serious guys.”
Nika raised an eyebrow. “Not that deep? You barely said two words to her, and when you did, it was kinda snarky.”
Paige shrugged, not wanting to get into it. “It is what it is.” KK rolled her eyes and nudged Paige’s shoulder . “You’re so annoying. Just give the poor girl a chance, stop being mean to the pretty lady.”
Paige didn’t respond, but the words echoed in her mind long after she was back in her own dorm, lying on her bed and staring at the ceiling. She knew her friends were right, or were they? Azzi hadn’t done anything to deserve her hostility. So she thought , but deep down there was just something she couldn’t get herself to really spit out. There was something about the way Azzi seemed to effortlessly fit in, the way she smiled and laughed with everyone, that just irked Paige. It made her feel… what? Jealous? Insecure? She wasn’t sure, but whatever it was, it was strong enough to keep her on edge whenever Azzi was around.
As the days went on, Azzi became more integrated into the team, quickly earning the admiration and friendship of everyone except Paige. And though Paige continued to keep her distance, she couldn’t deny that the tension between them was growing more complex with each passing day.
For now, the animosity remained unresolved, but something told Paige that this was only the beginning. The next few months promised to be full of surprises, and she wasn’t sure if she was ready for what was coming.
131 notes · View notes
sunshine-zenith · 1 year ago
Text
This is kinda a part two to this post here, about Ballister’s scar. Specifically I wanted to speculate a bit on Ballister’s relationship with Queen Valerin when you consider the fact that he was a mistreated and vulnerable child when he met her
Like. Look at this moment here
Tumblr media
She’s reassuring him. She genuinely believes in him, and it’s clear from the knighting ceremony, when she specifically lowers her voice to tell him how much she’s been looking forward to this moment that her intentions around him a pure. She wants to change things, she wants to give this kid a chance, and she’s killing two birds with one stone by making him a knight
But like Nimona herself says, question everything
Look a little bit closer at this image — the queen is well dressed and already had a statement prepared. Ballister is dressed in rags and looks like he hasn’t even been given the chance to wash his hair. He looks surprised and a little scared when the media erupts with questions. And I don’t think this was the Queen’s doing, necessarily — odds are the Director was the one who was supposed to prepare Ballister, and chose not to, because she probably knew that while the Queen wouldn’t judge him for looking like the homeless kid he was, the media would. Still, it shows that while the Queen has overall say on Ballister’s future, she doesn’t have a lot to do about his present
Ballister says he loves the Queen, but it’s hard to tell if he meant he loves her like you’d love a family member, or if he “loves” her like someone who has been raised to not question authority “loves” said authority. He took a deep breath and looked to Ambrosius during the knighting ceremony, not to her. She realistically probably wasn’t super involved, even if she wanted to be — she had an entire kingdom to run, other knights to knight, and likely spent her days making progressive decisions that were controversial with the conservatives in her kingdom. Plus, if she had been super involved, it could’ve increased bias against him, like she was favoring him above everyone else — Ambrosius seemed overall not sure popular among the knights, and while they respected his authority when he was put it charge, there was definitely a vibe that they resented him for being the “Golden Boy” descendant of Gloreth.
Let’s compare Bal and Queen Valerin to Comic!Ballister Blackheart and one of the Queen’s inspirations, Dr. Blitzmeyer (the other was the king, who was a basically prop that was referenced heavily in relation to Ballister as someone he should kill before dying off screen).
Blackheart and Blitzmeyer end the comic opening a lab together, working as co-scientists. Blackheart clearly thinks of her as a friend, but she thinks of him as a fond colleague for most of the comic — she’s happy to offer help in the form of exposition, and she helps him save the day by giving him a McGuffin That You Just Gotta Read The Comic To Understand, but part of her is worried he’s a rival scientist that wants to steal her ideas. She still welcomes him in her home and offers him team. When he’s at the end of his rope and needs a comfort hug, she awkwardly indulges him
Tumblr media
She’s surprised when he puts her down as his emergency contact
Tumblr media
Dr. Blitzmeyer is a quirky scientist that hangs out on conspiracy forums and probably practices witchcraft for the sake of scientific study. Queen Valerin is a warm and progressive monarch who makes controversial decisions. And they make big decisions regarding helping Ballister
Remember the reluctant McGuffin handover?
Tumblr media
She’s weighing the odds of him lying to her and stealing/tampering with/destroying it, hesitating before trusting him. If she had said no, a lot more people would’ve died in the comic, but she had no way of knowing that. She was barely interested in looking out her window and just worried the thing she spent years on would be wrecked
Now, the Queen — we don’t see her weigh the pros and cons of letting Bal become a knight, but she had to. And consider what she was presented with: a homeless kid with either no family or an abusive one judging from his scars and bruises. He had no adults in his life to protect him. No one to tell her no, making him essentially a child soldier might not be in his best interest. And he jumped a fence into the middle of a knight training session declaring he wanted to be a knight, basically coming to her — essentially the perfect candidate for her semi-social experiment
I can totally see her in another world letting this kid into her home and giving him tea and comfort, but I don’t think she could here. While she meant good, she took in a kid with nothing to lose and gave him everything to lose (a home, education, likely his first friend, safety), while also putting him under unavoidable social pressure. And she did it while the only adult figure other than her in his life, the one who would actually be involved in his upbringing — the Director — openly and defiantly failed him from the get go, and protested letting him join the knights to her face
Y’all I adore Queen Valerin, even if we only got her for like five minutes. Even if it’s in a speculative sense I like that she’s a good person while morally gray actions. She very much improved Ballister’s circumstances by giving him a home and the opportunity to pursue his interests. She clearly cared about him. She’s also a politician who, even if unavoidably, lowkey set him up to be a scapegoat without a backup plan and no outside support
Like. Y’all.
484 notes · View notes
jumpywhumpywriter · 2 months ago
Text
Living Weapon Whumpee part 14
Warnings: forced living weapon/fighter, war, bleeding & bullet wounds, Aftermath of battle, recover whump
And before long, the darkness floating in his head swallowed him whole. And he knew no more.
The climb back to consciousness was slow, and Whumpee was surprised to find himself waking up at all, given his injuries.
The fog in his mind eventually dissipated, and he mustered the strength to open his eyes, finding him staring up at a blank white ceiling. He was in a medical bed, he distantly registered. He lifted a hand to rub his face with a groan, but froze when he realized he wasn't cuffed down.
He glanced next to him, vision clearing to see Flint in a chair next to his bed, leaning forward with chin propped on a fist and watching him intently.
"You... You kept your word..." Whumpee rasped in disbelief.
"I did consider going back on it, though," Flint regretfully admitted, "especially after seeing how you tore through all of Leader's soldiers as if they were paper dolls. I mean, you are bloody lethal in battle. Part of me wondered if it would have been best to end you while you were down, while I could. Prevent any potential future threat from arising."
"Then why didn't you?" Whunpee croaked. "If you're so afraid of me, why didn't you kill me?"
Flint averted his gaze. "Because... while you do have the potential to be a violent, brutal killer... you chose to use your violence to fight and save my daughter. And I forever owe you for that. I saw you be gentle with her right before you passed out, despite the fact that you could have easily taken her life if you wished. You were kind, when you could have been cruel, despite everything you've been through, everything you've endured. You had every right to lash out at my team as well as Leader's, for holding you captive. But you didn't."
Flint's voice was firm and sincere. "In the end, I think you have more capacity for good than I had believed. And--" he was cut off when the medical room door came bursting open, and a young girl came skipping in with a beaming smile.
"Whumpee! You're finally awake!" Myra exclaimed excitedly, and ran over to his bed, holding something behind her back. "I made something for you!!" She brought out a piece of paper and shoved it into Whumpee's hands with a giggle, who took it in surprise, exceedingly careful not to tear it. He unfolded the paper to find another one of her childish drawings. It showed a small stick figure with a frown on its face, and a taller one next to it with exed-out eyes. The tall one had a third stick figure with a poorly-colored blade stabbing it in a cartoonish spray of red colored crayon blood. Weapon killing Leader.
Whumpee's heart soared. It was something of his own, and more than that it was a gift. He'd never been given a gift before. It was so exciting!
Myra squealed and leaned over to give him an awkward, happy hug on the medical bed he was on. Whumpee felt like his heart might burst with joy, such a new feeling for him.
"Myra, do you mind giving me and Weapon a minute to finish talking?" Flint interrupted softly.
"Whumpee," Myra said, "his name is Whumpee."
Flint blinked in surprise, but nodded. "Of course. Whumpee."
Myra smiled sweetly at Whumpee before leaving the way she'd come, and Flint turned to Whumpee. "I intend to keep my promise. You are free, Whumpee... but if you're willing, we could use someone like you on our team."
"...What do you mean?" Whumpee croaked.
Flint sighed heavily. "Leader may be dead now, but his larger forces are still in motion... which means a spectacular battle yet to come. He dealt a strong blow during this ambush -- we lost a lot of good soldiers." He chewed his lip for a moment before continuing. "What I'm saying is... if you so desire, I would ask you to join my team of elite fighters. You would be able to protect more innocent people like Myra, and help end all the senseless bloodshed by winning the war."
Whumpee was stunned by the offer, but Flint's face was all seriousness, no trace of teasing or mockery.
"...Do your men share the same sentiment?" Whumpee wheezed.
Flint winced, not meeting his gaze. "My men will have a hard time accepting my decision to even let you live. You're going to have to work yourself ragged to prove yourself to them before they'll trust you. A lot of them have lost loved ones because of you when you were Leader's war dog, so many have personal grudges against you. You'll face a lot of rejection and oppression from them."
Understandable, Whumpee thought with a twinge of guilt.
"A lot of men will likely go out of their way to cause you trouble," Flint added grimly. "But if you're willing to work with me, I could make this happen. You could fight for a cause. More people like Myra could be saved. But of course... it's your freedom on the line. You have a choice this time. To fight or flee."
A choice... Whumpee mulled it over numbly. It was surreal that he wouldn't be forced to fight as Weapon. That he could choose to instead.
“...Yes,” he said hoarsely. “I would… like to help, if you'll allow.”
The corner of Flint’s mouth quirked up into a grin, and he rested a hand on Whumpee’s shoulder. “Then welcome to my army, Whumpee.”
⏪️ Back Next ⏩️
Masterlist
@scoundrelwithboba @lumpofsand @isikedmyself878 @iamheretohurt @fleur-a-whump
@ay5ksal @otterfrost @sausages-things @i-don't-know-sal @togzy
@whump-till-ya-jump @cravesunconditionallove @whumpwritinglover222 @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl
56 notes · View notes
lilpandrea · 4 months ago
Text
You know what's sad? I bet if the opposite happened in which Dorian threw Orym's husband and father's death straight to his face like that, much more of the fandom would've been enraged. Tbh as someone who is a Dorian fan first before a Dorym shipper, some of the reactions to this interaction in the episode has been so frustrating. The downplaying, the invalidating, the hypocrisy of how Laudna/Orym fans are allowed to feel indignant for things because of their favorite character's trauma, but Dorian fans are being too much. (Props to those who have been actually objective and/or are excited to see where these two flawed characters go from here).
Now, as a Dorym shipper it really sucks to see Dorian come back, do many things for Orym: gave all (what happened to the money they got from the heist?) his money for the armor, reassured Orym before Swordgate happened, stood by Orym during Swordgate, gave Orym a piggyback ride (he wanted to princess carry gdi lol), saved Orym's life twice in one fight...only to have Orym throw his brother's death to his face like that...sure it's nice when a ship has complications but really? When his brother just died not too long ago??? Please don't compare this to Imodna divorce arcs, it's not the same. Oh gosh and then Dorian checking out of the conversation afterwards.
God, if his parents are in Vasselheim right now and sees him in gold too would that be his final breaking point until it all finally comes out? (I would love it if Robbie is waiting for the perfect moment for Dorian to finally boil over. Give me that tasteful angst)
No, Dorian Storm isn't stupid and needs to be re-educated, he is a complex character like the others and has his own reasons for thinking certain ways, just because you don't like or agree with his opinions doesn't make him a suddenly bad character, he is his own character and isn't there to prop up another character, he isn't the team's therapist, just because Robbie is newer to d&d than the others doesn't mean he doesn't know what to do with his character, Dorian didn't have to tell all the details of his brother's death for Orym to not throw it to his face like that...
Anyways, kudos to anyone who even reads this since it could've been organized better and written more eloquently but it was a frustrating itch that wouldn't go away until I threw it all up 😅 (and no, I don't hate Orym, I get it, just frustrated w/ fandom reactions)
66 notes · View notes
misstycloud · 9 months ago
Note
Haii!! I've read your work before! And I absolutely adore all your fics < 3
If possible, may I request a yandere actor x background actor reader? (Like they have no speaking role, just their role is to stand there?) And somehow the reader caught the yandere's attention? XD
A/n: sup’ I’ve been gone a while. Sry for not being so active but here’s this.
————-
She didn’t do anything; nothing except standing there quietly in the background, melting into it like one tree among many in a forest. She was worth a penny compared to him- she didn’t even have any lines! So why were his eyes always drawn to her?
Perhaps it was because she didn’t try to cover his attention like all the others. It was offensive, really, how they thought he didn’t notice; they believed he couldn’t se through their over the top compliments and fake smiles.
But it was a small price to pay for such success. ‘You can’t have everything’, his father told him that. ‘You can either be rich, or you can be happy. There is no in between.’
(They were neither, but that hardly seems important)
He had to admit his father’s judgement to be correct.
“Shooting in ten!” Someone yelled.
There was no time for him to ponder over useless things, he was there to work, not to waste away inside the trailer. After having the makeup artist give him a touch-up, the tall man went over to the set(while reviewing the script inside his head one last time) in order to film the next scene.
“It’s all thanks to Gareth’s amazing, awesome, fantastic performance and quick thinking we’ve been able to stay on time of schedule - I really did think we were gonners’ after that last prop broke.” The employee guiltily admitted before his collueges. “But luckily-“ he swung his arm around Gareth’s shoulders “- our dear ‘X- city’s Top Actor’ was here to save us, and to that I propose a toast!”
Gareth held back a sneer. It didn’t matter how enticing it sounded like, he could not do it. Because if he did, then his perfect facade would be torn apart by these…people. That couldn’t happen. Ever. Too much sweat and blood has been shed for his position and there was no fucking way he would let anyone ruin that; that included himself.
Gareth wished for nothing more than to lock himself up inside his trailer and read in blissful silence, however that appeared to be near impossible. The team of employees had all joined forces to throw an ‘almost done’- party, where he was the star. Escaping was not possible.
With a sigh, he drank from his glass of wine. It was not the expensive kind he was now used to, but it would have to do. At least he managed to get some privacy at the party since most were currently drunk, throwing up in the bathroom or busy comverimg about-no doubt- stupid stuff. In a way, it was almost better this way. Despite what his line of work would say, he felt more comfortable when no one was looking at him- searching for faults and broken pieces.
“Enjoying the party?” A curious voice poked a hole in his bubble of isolation.
What surprised Gareth first was the owner of the voice, and secondly that it didn’t sound drunk at all. It was her, the extra from some of the scenes. The third surprise that grazed his mind was the thought:
‘She’s pretty.’
The actor was close to smacking himself in the face. What was he thinking so suddenly? He must’ve had too much to drink as well. Yes, that was surely it. But he found it hard to avoid the kind yet perceptive eyes.
“Ehem,” He cleared his throat, choosing to look straight ahead. “Of course, I enjoy it very much.”
It was but wishful thinking she’d accept his answer and move on.
“Really?”
She sounded genuinely confused now. Why did she sound like the surprised one? It was starting to get on Gareth’s nerves. Who did she think she was, coming here and questioning him?
“Should I not be?” It came off a little harsher than he’d imagined, but if she noticed she didn’t comment.
“Ah, that’s not what I meant, sorry.”
He sighed. She apologised which meant he must do it too if he didn’t want to come across as an asshole.
“No, it is I who have not been in the best mood tonight, I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.”
She laughed in response, pulling some out-of-control hair away from her face. Strangely, a part of him wished she didn’t do that, it was cute and framed her face well. Gareth was always a man of perfection and he enjoyed it on others as well. He was a star, why would he waste time on someone who didn’t even take into consideration to be presentable in front of others. But it’s not like he could voice these opinions to the public, or he’ll be done for.
Maybe he’d still get jobs(celebrities often gets a pass for things), but it would definitely change the view on him.
“I just didn’t think you liked these kind of events- with all the booze and social pressure and fakeness, I mean.”
Gareth turned to her in slight awe, listening as she continued.
“You usually have a detached look in your eyes, like you’re not really there? I don’t know how to explain it, but I just assumed you didn’t like parties. Besides, - I might not be an A-list celebrity- but I can see how it must be hard for you too. People come flocking around you, hoping to gain your favour, and you don’t know who to trust. Who is truly there for you, and who is only there for something else?” The young woman breathed out a sigh of relief. “Sorry if I rambled by the way, it can happen sometimes.”
Gareth, still in awe, stood silently and stared at her. Honestly, what the fuck? How did she- a mere background actor- manage to see through and tear apart the strong wall he’d spent so many hours to perfect? He was an actor for god’s sake, it was his job to pretend, and someone saw the true him anyway. But he was sure he’d never let his face betray him. So, how……?
“Hey are you okay?”
Snapping out of it, the man dismissed any previous thought and focused on the matter at hand. “Yes, I am fine. Thank you.” It was then he recalled something important he forgot to ask. “What is your name? I didn’t ask earlier, how rude of me.”
She smiled back at him, pointing at herself as she said, “I’m (y/n), it’s nice to meet you.” She proceeded to shake his hand politely. When their skin touched, all Gareth felt was the warmth that came with it.
“Yeah, nice to meet you too… (Y/n).”
It was after that night Gareth found himself seeking out (y/n) more. Though he’d tell himself that it was for job purposes and nothing else. He simply wanted to see that there was nothing bad going on and everything was running smoothly. It was a movie he started in, of course it had to be flawless; nothing short of perfect; absolutely splendid.
But whenever trouble arose or someone needed some sort of help, it made it easier for Gareth to sneak off and find his new friend. Were they friends? At least, that’s what he thought. He and (y/n) had shared many more conversations after that fateful party and she never wore a disgusted(maybe he’s exaggerating) expression when talking to him. So they have to be friends, right? It would be strange if they weren’t.
(Y/n) was, in fact, lovely. He’d had that suspicion about her since the beginning and it turned out to be accurate. She always asked how he felt that day, and it wasn’t in the superficial, polite way, she meant it. The thoughtfulness brought a new kind of ache to his chest. It hurt in some ways, yet he couldn’t get enough of it.
Other times she even came to him with a box of home cooked food. She said that he was free to throw it away if he didn’t like it and she wouldn’t hunt him down or anything. Gareth was stunned. Why would he wish to throw out the food she’s so carefully prepared for him? No way. He’d eat all of it. It didn’t matter if he liked it or not, he couldn’t dishonour her like that. It wasn’t polite. (He actually loved the food)
Gareth had at first felt goddy at the prospect that (y/n) willingly spent her free time to cook something for him. He must be special to her then; only that thought was later crushed. The actor was on his way outside to take a breather after a longer shoot, and in the corner of his eye he saw two of his colleagues sitting on a staircase. He paused. In their laps’ were plastic containers - lunch boxes- but that wasn’t what drew in his attention; they looked oddily familiar.
‘Wait a little…this is..?’
Oh, he definitively recognised the pink notes and the same-collection of stickers that attached it to the box. If he looked even closer, he was certain the handwriting would be familiar as well.
How could he be so stupid? Of course (y/n) made lunch for all her close colleagues, not just him. Why would she treat him any special? Yes, he was considered a star on the rise for more success, but he knew that hardly mattered to her. Although he tried convincing himself it hardly meant anything as long as he’s getting good meals and they’re still friends, it made things different. The meals weren’t the only thing he noticed afterwards. There were smiles, plenty of them, all wasted on pathetic nobodies. There were also the affection, the hugs, the hand holding. They were given to crew members feeling down and in need of comfort.
It was good that (y/n) cared about others; a quality many perceived as positive. However, Gareth himself could not see this as a good thing. Instead it left a sour taste in his mouth, just like the meal-donation.
Gareth grumbled over this for a long time and tried to figure out why he felt this way. It was stupid, he thought, that he was this worked up over some woman. Gareth a couple months ago would scoff at his current situation and tell him he was being ridiculous and had to stop grovelling in the dirt over some background actor.
The Gareth from a few months ago wouldn’t believe he had the ability to resort to something so childish, either. He was avoiding her like the plague, and barely glanced in her direction. If he absolutely had to talk to her then his answers would be curt and ‘don’t-bother-me-like’. What the hell was he doing? Giving (y/n) the silent treatment, like a child not getting the attention from his parents as he would’ve liked. He could tell the change in his behaviour made her sad, and she probably didn’t understand why either, which was even more sad. But the saddest part of all was that Gareth’s pride was stronger than his feeling of guilt.
A result from the prince-treatment he’d been getting for years.
It wasn’t until the day she approached him during break and said, “I wanted to say goodbye.” that he broke out of his bubble.
“What do you mean?” He asked, immediately straightening his back.
(Y/n) smiled melancholy, “the scenes I’m in-standing in the background, that is- are all over. It’s time for me to go home now. There’s nothing else for me to do here.”
The gears turned in the actors head. She was leaving? This place? Him?
“No, you can’t leave.” He blurted out without thinking. It came off as desperate and breathless, like a whining kid. He hated himself.
(Y/n) chuckled lightly, “Yeah, I wish I could stay longer, but I’m just a background character. I don’t have that privilege.”
Gareth though he heard her mutter under her breath, ‘-not like you.’
“Well this is goodbye then, it was fun to get to know you Gareth and be your friend.” She said before turning around and leaving him alone.
It wasn’t true. They hadn’t been friends at all the last weeks, and it was all his fault. Because he felt some petty competitiveness. And now (yn) was going away forever. What if he never gets to see her again? The idea hurt more than anything he’s felt before. It definitively hurt more than the time he broke his toe, or the time he slipped and got a concussion. None of it was close to the pain he experienced with the thought of losing her.
His sweet little background actor.
Now he understood. It was love. All of it was love. That’s why he was threatened by others taking up (y/n)’s time and why he enjoyed her company so much. He loved her. It was that simple.
There’s no way he could let her slip out of reach now. Not when she belongs to him.
117 notes · View notes
in1-nutshell · 10 months ago
Text
Elita One's twin sister with the personality of SG! Blackarachnia with reactions from Team Prime
This is a continuation of the previous request.
SFW, Angst, Hurt and Comfort, Romantic hinted, Cybertronain (techno organic) reader
TFA
Winter had rolled in for the season.
Optimus had been very closed off since the interaction with the Spider Con. The team had tried to get him to talk about it, but he didn’t want to.
Not yet at least.
He wanted some time to think about this.
Buddy clearly didn’t want to be found by the Elite Guard, which to a degree made sense, especially since she had sided with the Decepticons.
His team however took the silence as something else.
They thought that the spider had done something horrible to their leader for him to be so reclusive.
“What do you think the Con did?”--Bumblebee
“Maybe they scared him? He is scared of spider’s.”--Bulkhead
“It can’t be that! That Con is too nice.”--Sari
“Oh, please! All Cons are bad!”--Bumblebee
“Not this one! You saw what happened last time! She saved me, twice!”--Sari
Suddenly Fanzone started calling.
One of the older buildings in the city had started collapsing and people were still inside.
“We are on our way!”--Optimus
“Well, I hope so, you’re friend went inside to help but they haven’t gone out yet.”--Fanzone
“Wait friend?”--Optimus
“You guys got a new Bot on the team, right?”--Fanzone
“Fanzone, we don’t have any recruits…”--Optimus
“Then who just went in there and started getting people out? That seems like a very Autoboty thing to do.”--Fanzone
“Wait, can you describe the Bot who went in?”--Optimus
“Umm… white, orange, a bit on the skinny side for a bot—”--Fanzone
“Fanzone this is important, did you see something spiky poking out of the back side?”--Optimus
“Yeah—Hello? Prime?”--Fanzone
Optimus sprinting out the door with his team following behind him.
The old building had cracks all around the sides, deeper ones at the top were created by the snowfall piling up on the roof.
Right now, their main concern was to get the humans out of the building before addressing the new bot somewhere.
A huge part of the building started coming down.
That’s when Optimus heard the yelling.
Without a second thought, he jumped into the collapsing building despite his team yelling otherwise.
Ratchet deciding, he had enough of staying in the sidelines charged in after the young Prime, using his magnets to get rid of stary debris.
Optimus kept on following the now muffled sounds of screaming until he got to the middle of the building.
Buddy was pinned on the floor with a huge chunk of the ceiling on her pedes, there was a pile of snow partially burying her helm.
“HELP! HELP! Please, someone!”--Buddy
“Buddy! Buddy, I’m right here!”--Optimus
“Optimus!? Optimus! I’m stuck! I can’t move! I can’t move!”--Buddy
“Its going to be okay Buddy!”--Optimus
As Optimus starts getting the debris out the ceiling starts cracking.
“No… not again… not again…”--Buddy
“Buddy just hold on! Keep talking to me!”--Optimus
“Its going to fall… Its going—”--Buddy
“It’s not going to fall on you Buddy. I will not let that happen, I promise you will get out of here! But right now I need you with me. Can you do that?”--Optimus
Buddy, close to tears, nodding, trying to help as much as she could.
Ratchet finally came in to see Prime trying to get rid of the debris from the Con.
Now normally he would try and get Prime out of there, the con wasn’t worth it.
Cons were harder to kill than the Earth’s roaches.
But he saw the determined and terrified look on his faceplate trying to keep the Con awake and getting the debris out with one servo while propping the con to lean on his.
He used his magnets to lift a bit of the ruble.
It was enough for Prime to pull the con out and gather them in his arms and the three got out just as the rest of the ceiling started caving in.
Buddy had passed out as soon as they all made it out of the building.
 Prime quickly started running towards the plant with the other 4s in tow.
Everyone was confused but followed the Prime.
There was a lot of protest to have the Con come into their home, but Prime wasn’t having it.
“We can’t have a Con know where we live!”--Prowl
“Prowl’s right! Look Prime I’m agreeing with him!”--Bumblebee
“She isn’t going to tell anything.”--Optimus
“And how do you know that?”--ratchet
“It’s not like you know her Prime! How do you know what she is or is not going to do?”--Prowl
“…”--Optimus
“Guys, she might be a Con and all, but look at her! She is hurt and she tried to save a bunch of humans. I don’t think a Decepticon would do all that without a good reason. I say we give it a chance.”--Sari
“Really, Sari!?”--Prowl
“I agree with her.”--Bulkhead
“Bulkhead?!”--Prowl
“Me too.”--Bumblebee
“…”--Ratchet
“Still—”--Prowl
“THAT’S ENOUGH! If anything, bad happens to this team it will fall on me and you can have the last ‘I told you so’ if something bad does happen! Right now Buddy needs help and I don’t—I don’t…”--Optimus
“…You do know them…”--Prowl
“I’ll get the medbay ready Kid. You take her in when I say it’s okay.”--Ratchet
Ratchet didn’t know what history Prime had with this Con, but he was choosing to trust the Prime.
Thankfully the wounds looked worse than what they really were.
Optimus told the team a short version of the story between him and Buddy, while Buddy rested.
“The three of us thought she was dead when we left that planet. When we met again not too long ago, it turned out that the organic part of her had masked her signature…”--Optimus
“And that’s why you could find her?”--Prowl
“Yeah…”—Optimus
“What happened to you guys when you got to Cybertron?”--Sari
“I… I took the blame—”--Optimus
“You did what?!”—Bulkhead
“Optimus!”—Bumblebee
“Prime!”--Ratchet
“I felt it was my fault and I took all the blame so Elita and Sentinel could continue with their training and end up in the Elite Guard.”
“That’s how you ended up on Space bridge repair.”--Ratchet
“Yeah…”--Optimus
“Well, if we are getting everything out now, I know that bot too.”--Ratchet
“Wait you know Buddy?”--Optimus
“Does everyone know this Bot? Bulk you know them?”--Bumblebee
“Nope.”--Bulkhead
“Good I’m not the only one.”--Bumblebee
“As I was saying, she used to come into some of the clinics to help when things were a bit hectic. She studied under me while she was taking her medical exams. She always said it was all for her friends.”--Ratchet
“Did she now?”--Optimus
“You three numb nuts always got hurt in the worst ways doing the dumbest stuff. What do you think I needed to do?”--Buddy
Buddy leaning on the wall.
“Kid! What are you doing up?! Are your circuits fried!”--Ratchet
“Not yet Doctor…”--Buddy
“Wait how much did you hear?”--Optimus
“Enough to make me wish I was at full strength so I could pummel you for taking the blame!”--Buddy
“But—”--Optimus
“Hold it Prime! And then punch Sentinel in his big chin and kick Elita in the behind!”--Buddy
“Buddy why don’t you sit down.”--Ratchet
“…Fine.”--Buddy
A blizzard had been forming outside.
Prime absolutely banned Buddy from going out in that weather.
Buddy really couldn’t complain.
Now she was stuck in the Autobot base until the storm at least passed.
She was constantly watched.
Many bots did try and question her, but to her surprise Optimus shut that down immediately.
Sari was the first one to approach her.
She didn’t have to fear this Con. Buddy had helped her before and had helped those people get out of the building.
She wasn’t a bad guy.
Bulkhead, a believer in second chances also jumped at the chance to connect with Buddy.
“What do you do for fun?”--Sari
“Fun?”--Buddy
“Yeah! Like watch movies, play games, that stuff.”--Sari
“Well, I do like looking at art sometimes.”--Buddy
“You like paintings!?”--Bulkhead
“Yes?”--Buddy
“I have some, you wanna see?”--Bulkhead
“Sure.”--Buddy
“Full warning Buddy, but they aren’t exactly… well you’ll see.”--Bumblebee
“Umm… okay?”--Buddy
“Here it is! What do you think.”—Bulkhead
Bulkhead presenting a painting full of colors.
“…Bulkhead…”--Buddy
“If you’re gonna say it stinks—”--Bulkhead
“Woah, woah, woah! Who said anything about it stinking? Art is in the optic of the beholder after all. I like the hues you used and the brush strokes you did here. I’m just sorry I can’t take this with me!”--Buddy
“You’re just saying that.”--Bulkhead
“What no! Why would I do that?”--Buddy
“You really like it?”--Bulkhead
“Bulkhead I wish I could bring it with me.”--Buddy
Bulkhead looking at Prime.
“Where have you been keeping them from me.”--Bulkhead
Tumblr media
Bumblebee soon joined in showing Buddy some of his video games and may or may not have asked for some stories about the old Boss bot.
Buddy was happy to comply with that much to Optimus’s dismay.
“You have any stories about Boss-Bot?”--Bumblebee
“That’s not important—”--Optimus
“Absolutely!”--Buddy
“Buddy, no.”--Optimus
“Buddy, yes. Sit down kid, I got a whole bunch of stories. If you tell me a funny story about Optimus here from the time here on Earth, I’ll even throw in a story about Sentinel too.”--Buddy
“So, there was this time Optimus tried swinging from the rooftops one time and fell into the harbor.”--Bumblebee
“Bumblebee!”--Optimus
“Kid you are officially on my good side.”--Buddy
“Buddy…”--Optimus
“Yes…”--Buddy
“You wouldn’t…”--Optimus
“And what if I do?”--Buddy
“No… not that one!”--Optimus
“Yes, that one! Now Prime here—”--Buddy
Optimus tackling Buddy down.
Tumblr media
Ratchet joined in after checking over Buddy’s wounds again. He is glad to see one of his unofficial official students are still kicking.
Prowl joined in when she retold some of her adventures on this planet without the Cons. The two ended up having an in-depth conversation about rocks.
“Thank you Ratchet. Prime needs to remember some of us are still injured.”--Buddy
“Again, I said I’m sorry!”--Optimus
“Yeah, yeah.”--Buddy
“… You’re the Decepticon’s new medic aren’t you.”--Ratchet
“…How did you know?”--Buddy
“Call it a hunch… and you have several tools in your subspace with several rocks.”--Ratchet
“Rocks?”--Prowl
“Yeah, it’s a past time of mine. I think the humans call it a ‘rock collection’.”--Buddy
“Can I see?”--Prowl
Buddy popping one of her subspaces and taking out all sorts of rocks.
Tumblr media
After the conversation, Sari declared it a movie night. Optimus was the last one to sit down.
The only place left was next Buddy.
Buddy looked at Optimus and patted the spot next to her, he sat down.
Neither of them looked at each other for a bit.
As the movie continued, Buddy took a glance at him seeing the sad look on his face.
She reached out and grabbed his servo.
“Thank you.”--Buddy
“Hm? For what?”--Optimus
“You kept your promise. You came for me.”--Buddy
“… I… I…”--Optimus
“It’s okay Prime. I forgave you a long time ago.”--Buddy
Optimus sniffling a bit while squeezing Buddy’s servo in response.
Buddy leaning her helm on his shoulder.
Prime moves a bit closer, just glad to have his friend back.
Tumblr media
This was a start, a small one, but a start.
Buddy left the base that night while everyone went to recharge to go and meet up with the Cons.
She left a note telling them where she went and thanks for the help.
Right now, Buddy had another problem to deal with.
“Hey I’m back—”--Buddy
Buddy getting plowed to the ground by Blitzwing.
“Where were you?!”—Hot head
“Are you hurt?!”--Icy
“Did you make snow bots?”—Random
“I’m fine—“—Buddy
Lugnut running in and pulling Buddy into a crushing hug.
“Buddy, you have been gone for too long! Too many things have happened since you left!”--Lugnut
Starscream walking in and sighing in relief.
“Finally, you decided to come by. As your second in command, I demand you to tell us where have you been.”--Starscream
“Well, I got caught in the snowstorm—”--Buddy
“Snowstorm?!”—Blitzwing, Lugnut, Starscream
“Do you know how dangerous that was?!”—Starscream
“You could have been offline if—“--Blitzwing
“Yes? I know that, but I’m fine now.”--Buddy
“Yeah, one of you has to tell Lord Megatron now.”--Starscream
“Megatron? Wait is he mad?”--Buddy
“Not exactly, he has been worrying where you have been, which you still haven’t told us yet!”--Lugnut
“What is all this blundering—Buddy?”--Megatron
“Hello My Lord—”--Buddy
“…”--Megatron
Lugnut releasing Buddy from his hold as she stands up straighter.
“I’m sorry for being so late. I got caught in the snowstorm and I had to wait it out until I could leave.”--Buddy
Megatron walking up to Buddy stopping in front of her.
“Megatron?”--Buddy
Megatron picks up Buddy into his arms and carrying her to the medbay.
“Starscream get the heat pads! Blitzwing help him! Lugnut lock the doors!”--Megatron
“Megatron! There is no—”--Buddy
“If you say that ‘there is no need for this’, I will further put you under base arrest.”--Megatron
“What?!”--Buddy
“I will do it. Do not test me.”--Megatron
“Fine…”--Buddy
Megatron reaching to the medbay and closing the doors.
“…You did give us all a fright when you did come back… especially with the drop in temperature.”--Megatron
“Megatron—”--Buddy
“No. Let me finish. Buddy, we were worried. I was worried.”--Megatron
“Why were you worried? I’m just one medic in your army. I don’t--”--Buddy
“You are not just some medic!”--Megatron
“Then?”--Buddy
“You…I…”--Megatron
“Yes?”--Buddy
“I—”--Megatron
Lugnut kicking down the door.
“I have successfully locked the doors, Lord Megatron!”--Lugnut
Megatron looking like he is about to scream.
“Thank you…Lugnut…”—Megatron
Buddy giggling a bit in the background.
144 notes · View notes
cailinsblog · 14 days ago
Text
Collisions and love-Clayton Keller
Clayton Keller x reader
Send in request and please reblog pookies
Tumblr media
The hallway leading to the media offices at Mullett Arena was quiet, save for the rapid clicking of Y/N’s boots on the linoleum floor. Her heart raced as she glanced at her watch. *Five minutes until the meeting starts.* She cursed under her breath, clutching a stack of papers and her ever-essential coffee cup. The life of an intern was chaotic, and today was no exception.
As she rounded the corner at full speed, she slammed into something—or rather, someone—solid and unyielding.
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Y/N gasped, feeling the familiar sense of dread wash over her. She knew exactly who she’d bumped into before even looking up.
Clayton Keller stumbled back slightly but recovered quickly, his hands instinctively going out to steady her. “Whoa, hey, it’s okay,” he said, his voice warm and steady. “Are you okay?”
Y/N’s papers scattered everywhere, but miraculously, her coffee remained intact. She dropped to her knees immediately, frantically gathering the loose sheets. “No, no, it’s my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
Clayton crouched down to help, his dark practice gear making him look effortlessly cool despite the early hour. “Here, let me help you,” he offered, his hand already reaching for a stray paper near his foot.
Y/N waved him off, her voice rushed. “No, really, I’ve got it. I’m just—ugh—I’m always rushing.” She groaned softly, her watch catching her eye. “Crap, crap, crap. I’m going to be late!”
Without waiting for further help, she snatched the last paper from the floor and scrambled to her feet. “Thanks, but I’ve got to run!” she said over her shoulder, already halfway down the hall.
Clayton watched her go, an amused smile tugging at his lips. As he stood, he noticed one last piece of paper lying near his skate bag. He picked it up, his eyes scanning the top. It looked official—something about a media schedule and player photo assignments.
“Guess you’ll be needing this,” he muttered to himself. He glanced down the hall, but Y/N was already out of sight. With no time to chase her down, he folded the paper carefully and slipped it into the pocket of his hoodie.
---
The next two days were a whirlwind of activity for Y/N. The team had several shoots lined up, and the stress of coordinating schedules, props, and locations was weighing heavily on her. But nothing compared to the panic of realizing she was missing *the* paper.
She had torn her office apart three times, checked her bag, and even retraced her steps in the hallway. Nothing. It was gone. And with it, her peace of mind.
“If I don’t find that schedule, I’m toast,” she muttered, slumping into her chair.
Her boss had been patient so far, but she knew that patience wouldn’t last. Especially not with deadlines looming.
---
By day three, Y/N was running on little sleep and a lot of caffeine. She barely registered the familiar surroundings as she sped through the hallway again, her thoughts consumed by the ever-growing list of tasks.
And once again, she turned a corner and collided—hard—with Clayton Keller.
“Oh, come on,” she groaned, stumbling backward.
Clayton caught her by the shoulders, steadying her with a laugh. “You’ve really got to slow down,” he teased.
Y/N sighed, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face. “Sorry, again. I swear I’m not trying to make this a habit.”
Before she could launch into another apology, Clayton reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out the folded sheet of paper. “I think this is yours. You dropped it the other day.”
Y/N froze, her eyes widening as she recognized the missing document. “No way.” She snatched it from his hands, holding it up as if it were a lost treasure. “Oh my god, I’ve been looking *everywhere* for this goddamn paper. You just saved my life.”
Clayton grinned. “Glad I could help. I was starting to wonder when I’d see you again to give it back.”
Y/N let out a soft laugh, her nerves finally easing for the first time in days. “Well, considering how often I run into you, it was only a matter of time.”
They stood there for a moment, the bustling arena around them fading into the background. Y/N glanced up at him, really seeing him for the first time—his hazel eyes warm, his smile soft yet confident.
“I’m Y/N,” she said suddenly, realizing they’d never properly introduced themselves.
“Clayton,” he replied, offering a hand.
She took it, and the simple touch sent a surprising jolt through her. They held each other’s gaze, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fall away.
Then her watch beeped again, snapping her back to reality.
“Ah, crap,” Y/N muttered, tucking the paper into her bag. “I’m late again.”
Clayton chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You really need a new watch.”
She rolled her eyes but smiled. “Thanks again, Clayton. I owe you one.”
Before she could dart away, Clayton took a step closer. “Actually, if you want to repay me, how about grabbing coffee sometime?”
Y/N blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Coffee?”
“Yeah.” Clayton shrugged, his easy smile making her heart skip a beat. “You know, when you’re not running late.”
She hesitated for only a second before nodding. “Okay. Coffee sounds great.”
Clayton pulled out his phone. “Can I get your number?”
Y/N smiled, taking his phone and typing it in. “There you go. Don’t lose that, or I’ll never forgive you.”
He laughed, pocketing his phone. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”
Y/N glanced at her watch again, biting her lip. “I really have to go, but… I’ll be waiting for that text.”
“Count on it,” Clayton said, watching her disappear down the hall once more.
This time, though, she left with a smile, and Clayton couldn’t help but feel like their hallway collisions were the best part of his week.
---
Later that evening, Y/N’s phone buzzed with a new message.
**Clayton:** *Hey, it’s your favorite collision partner. Coffee tomorrow?*
Y/N grinned, her fingers flying across the screen.
**Y/N:** *Only if you promise not to spill it when I bump into you again.*
The rest, as they say, was history.
35 notes · View notes
thewintersoldierdisaster · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
a/n: more svech! just straight up fluff happening here. i loved writing this one so much! i was going to save this for svech’s birthday on sunday but i’m an adhd bitch and couldn’t wait lol so now we’re celebrating the canes clinching a playoff spot. (also fully exposing my mister svechnikov kink by adding it into every fic sorry not sorry)
word count: 7.2k (i am INCAPABLE of not blathering on about svech apparently)
tw: like super mild childbirth and more google-translate russian
summary: you and andrei welcome your first baby
“I don’t know,” Andrei’s hand is splayed flat over your stomach while he lies in bed next to you, “maybe I should talk to Rod. See if I can stay home until the baby’s here.” The baby rolls and kicks at his hand and Andrei’s lips turn up into a soft smile. His eyes are still a little cloudy and conflicted though.
You stretch out your legs, trying to ease the pain in your hip from having to lay on your side. “You’re only going to Nashville. It’s not far and I’m due in a week and a half. Plenty of time for you to get there and back without having to let your boys down.”
Andrei starts to protest, but you shake your head. “I know you don’t want to miss any games so close to the playoffs, Drei. And I also know that you’re not going to miss baby being born. We can do it all.”
He rubs at your stomach again, looking deep in thought. “Nashville is two days. To get there, to play, and to come back - more like three. What if you go into labor during the game?”
“Then,” you yawn, “I’ll have someone pull you off the ice and you can come straight to the hospital. Labor takes hours. Honestly, Drei, you’re not going to miss it.”
You know he wants to be there for you and for the team, especially coming down the home stretch of the regular season when the Canes are holding onto first in the Metro. You love that he’s so dedicated to his team and honestly, the thought of him sitting around and staring at you, waiting for you to pop, isn’t that relaxing. He’s attentive, but sometimes you need a bit of space.
Andrei rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. He huffs a sigh before rolling back onto his side to look at you. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure,” you reassure him. “Plus all four of our parents are going to be here in a couple of days. There’s no shortage of people who can get me to a hospital and call you, if we need it.”
He looks a little more reassured now, remembering that his parents are flying in on Tuesday, just hours after he flies out to Nashville. Your parents are only a forty-five minute drive away, so the second labor starts, if Andrei isn’t around, you can call them. You kick the blankets off your legs, too hot and uncomfortable in the unseasonably warm early spring weather. All you want to do is lie on your stomach and stretch out, but thanks to the giant belly bump, that’s a no-go. You’ve always been aware that Andrei was big and tall, but you hadn’t really thought about it until your baby was all squished up in your stomach, your skin stretched uncomfortably. It really does feel like you’re snuggling a watermelon around, and especially now that the baby’s dropped in the last few days, you’re really feeling uncomfortable.
Andrei’s hand rubs soft circles over the peak of your stomach, tapping the spots that the baby kicks in a little game. He props his head up on his palm and traces his fingers over your skin. “I can’t believe he’ll be here in a week,” he says.
“Or she,” you counter cheekily. “But yeah, it’s feeling a little scary now.”
The nursery’s been done for about two weeks now - painted and decorated around Andrei’s travel schedule. You have your hospital bag packed and ready in the front hall closet. The freezer is stocked full of meals your mom had made and delivered last week. All that’s left now is to wait for baby to make their appearance.
You shift on the bed, your lower back sore and stiff. “Drei…” you pout, “will you rub my back?” You blink wide eyes up at him and he smiles, needing no extra begging or encouragement to help you into a sitting position.
He opens his legs and settles you in between them, warm, large hands coming to rest on your lower back. “Here, solnyshka?” He asks, thumbs already digging into the stiff muscles. You hum an affirmative response, leaning forward as much as your stomach will allow and enjoying the pleasant stretch of your back. His hands work out the knots smoothly and you melt, finally getting a little relief.
“I can’t wait to finally not have to carry around this watermelon,” you sigh, hands cradling your stomach.
Andrei’s hands work up your back to your shoulders, “I can’t wait to hold the baby all the time, to make up for the nine months you did all the work.” He kisses behind your ear and digs his thumb into a particularly painful knot by your shoulder blade.
“Oh,” you gasp, going limp as the muscle releases. You sag back against his chest, trapping Andrei’s hands in between your bodies. “That felt so good. Forget hockey, become my personal masseuse.”
“Isn’t that already my side job?” He teases, fingers fluttering against your back where they’re stuck. You shift a little and he pulls his arms out and immediately rests them on the underside of your stomach, lifting gently so some of the pressure is off your pelvis.
A strangled noise of contentment escapes your throat and you lean further back against him. “Full time, I need back massages and bump lifting full time, Drei.”
“Whatever you want, solnyshka,” he tucks your head under his chin and sits still so you can relax. He’s so warm and solid you find your eyes closing, finally in a comfortable enough position to sleep a little.
A sharp jab to your bladder - a little foot or elbow, most likely - startles you awake with a wince. You shift, Andrei’s arms still encircling your body. He’s snoring softly in your ear and you realize that he fell asleep too, holding you against his chest. His head is tilted back against the headboard and it can’t be comfortable, but he’s out like a light, even when you wiggle a little to try and get off the bed. The need to use the bathroom is urgent.
“Mmm, solnyshka?” He mumbles, waking up a bit when you gently push his arms off of you.
“Go back to sleep,” you whisper into the dark. “I just have to pee.”
Andrei hums another response, but swings his legs off the bed and steadies you with a hand on your lower back and the other on your hip. His eyes are shut the entire time and he’s snoring again by the time you’re halfway to the bathroom. His legs are still dangling off the bed and you shake your head a little. Once you finish in the bathroom, you take a minute to look in the mirror, turning to the side and smoothing your shirt over your stomach. In a week or less, this bump is going to be a baby in your arms. You can’t wait to meet it, to see which of your features or Andrei’s are stronger.
“Just wait until Daddy is home, okay, baby?” You whisper, rubbing your palm over a spot low on you stomach where the baby’s jabbed a limb. “That better be a yes, mom, whatever you say.”
Andrei’s still half hanging off the bed when you waddle - god, you’re sick of the waddling! - back into the bedroom. He’s exhausted, between the travel, the actual playing, and being there for you, no matter what you need. You wish there were a way to let him keep sleeping while putting him back on the bed properly, but there really isn’t, so you carefully crawl back onto your side of the bed and situate yourself with the giant body pillows wrapped around your body and then reach out to nudge Andrei’s shoulder.
“Hey,” you whisper, “Drei, baby, get back into bed.”
He startles, blinking into the dark, and rubs a hand over his face. “Huh?” He looks around and seems to realize that his feet are on the floor while his upper body is in bed. “Oh,” he mutters, pulling his legs back up on the bed and under the covers. He reaches for you, still clearly half-asleep, and you let him pull you closer. The body pillow is entirely in the way and Andrei grumbles. “I hate this pillow,” he mutters, doing his best to wrap his body around yours.
“Just a little bit longer,” you mumble, fully knowing that you may never sleep without the body pillow again. It’s just so damn comfortable.
You wish you could sleep in the next morning, but even though Andrei is doing his best to be quiet while he gets ready, the baby is apparently dealing with hiccups. It’s like a little alien in your stomach and it’s both weirdly endearing and also freaking you out a little. You’re awake by 7:30, but you just stay in bed, smoothing your hand over your stomach, watching the way it jumps around.
“So freaky,” you mutter. Eventually Andrei wanders back into your room, holding a protein shake and already a little sweaty.
“Morning, milaya,” he drops a kiss on your lips and you squint at him.
“Did you already fit in a workout?”
He ruffles the hair on the back of his head, a little sheepish, “yeah. I woke up early. Ah, I’m getting a little nervous.” He sits down on the edge of the bed and you reach out for his hand. You stroke your thumb over the ridges of his knuckles. He squeezes your fingers gently.
“I’m nervous too,” you admit. “But we’re the ultimate team, right? I don’t know what I’m doing and you don’t either. But we’ll learn together.”
Andrei lifts your hand to his mouth and kisses the underside of your wrist. He rests his cheek against the back of your hand and you wiggle your fingers against his stubble, smiling slightly.
“You’re going to be the best dad,” you say, one-hundred percent confident in your statement.
He chews on his lower lip, absorbing your words, and nods. “If I’m half as good of a dad as you will be a mom, then I think the baby will be okay,” he says, leaning in to kiss you again. You sigh into his mouth.
“Glad we’re all on the same page,” you joke. “Now please help me up because I really can’t do it on my own anymore.”
Andrei obliges, pulling you to your feet and watching attentively as you go slowly about your morning routine. You shoo him out of the room after fifteen minutes, starting to get agitated with his hovering. “Drei, please, I’m fine. Just go shower and get ready to go to your skate,” you sigh, twisting your hair into a pair of messy braids and pinning them up into a milkmaid style so it’s off your neck.
“Okay, sorry, milaya,” he kisses the nape of your neck and ducks into the shower, leaving you time to change into a different lounge set and head for the kitchen. Nothing sounds appealing to you, mild nausea making your stomach roll. You settle for popping a slice of bread into the toaster and grabbing an avocado. You lean your elbow on the counter and prop your chin in the palm of your hand, yawning while you wait for your toast. Sleep quality really had declined the last few weeks.
Andrei’s back in the kitchen as you’re eating the avocado straight from its peel. He looks at you, raising an eyebrow and lips twitching in an effort to hide his amusement. You wrinkle your nose at him. “I didn’t want the toast,” you explain, gesturing at the butter smeared bread with your spoon. “You can have it, if you want.”
He snags the toast with two fingers and kisses the side of your head. “Spasibo. I’ll text you when I’m leaving the rink, if you need anything, okay?” He asks around a mouthful of bread.
You nod, “be careful. Love you.”
After he leaves, you tidy the kitchen and the living room, even though neither are all that dirty. You just mostly want to keep moving a bit - once you sit down, you’re basically not getting up for God or country.
By the time Andrei gets home for his pre-game nap and meal, he finds you curled up on the couch, sobbing at an episode of Bones. He’s immediately kneeling on the floor in front of you, running his hands over you thighs, “hey, what’s going on? Are you okay? Is the baby okay?”
“We’re fine,” you wave him off with a sniffle. “It’s just…Bones and Booth danced around their relationship for so long! And I forgot how unsatisfying it was when they finally got together.”
Andrei looks at you like you’re crazy before schooling his features into a more neutral expression. He sucks his upper lip in between his teeth, clearly trying not to laugh. He rubs at your knee soothingly, “how about you come nap with me? Take a break from the TV.”
You nod, rubbing at your damp eyes like an overtired toddler. The hormones are fluctuating wildly today. Andrei gently helps you get to your feel and trails after you to the bedroom. “How was morning skate?” You ask, climbing into bed. Andrei wraps his body around yours, the big spoon to your little, and buries his face in your hair.
“Good, it was nice to get a little energy flowing before the game,” he mumbles into your hair. His arms are a secure cocoon of warmth around you and the baby kicks where his palm is splayed flat over the side of your stomach. “Hello to you too, little one,” he says a little louder.
You snuggle into his embrace and fall asleep easily, the hour long nap passing faster than you had thought. Andrei gets up and starts getting dressed, while you watch. He’s in game mode now, more serious than before, more in his head. You know he’s thinking about the plays that were surely drawn up during morning skate. He steps into his suit pants - a new plaid number that is a mild assault on the eyes, but he’s so damn handsome he makes it work - and does a little hop in place when he does up the button and fly. You’re blatantly ogling him when he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it into the hamper.
“Creep,” he teases you, catching you looking.
“Don’t be so handsome then,” you shoot back, pointedly rubbing your stomach.
His smile turns a little feral and his eyes darken. “You look good like that, pregnant with my baby,” his voice is low and you press your thighs together.
You shake your finger at him, “no way, keep it in your pants, Mister Svechnikov, that’s how we ended up here in the first place.”
He laughs, eyes twinkling and dimple popping, finishing buttoning up his shirt. “I didn’t hear any complaints,” he says casually.
“Give it a week or so and I’m sure you’ll be hearing a few complaints,” you wince at a particularly strong kick lands somewhere in the vicinity of your ribs. “I know it’s cramped in there, but easy on the ribs,” you murmur to your stomach.
Andrei finishes getting ready, eats a quick meal, and is back on the road. He’ll be at the arena nearly three hours before the game, but you know it’s part of his routine. Besides, Brady likes to get there early too, so you know he won’t be alone. More likely, Brady will be alone while Andrei handles the puck by the boards before people start coming.
You send Andrei your usual pre-game text and make yourself a light dinner. The TV gets switched to the pre-game and you settle on the couch with your book and laptop. Your mom checks in with you, FaceTiming for a bit, and Elena is texting too, confusing you a little with the time difference, but she’s so excited to get into town tomorrow. The WAG group chat is buzzing too - asking how you are and sending pictures of the kids at the game. You doze off during the game, but wake up to a winning score for the Canes mid-way through the third. The score holds and Andrei comes home bouncy and full of energy.
“Four game point streak!” You grin, cheering for him as he comes into the house.
Andrei blushes and waves you off. “Team effort,” is all he says, even though he was a driving force on the ice. He drops to his knees next to the couch and rubs your stomach. “How’s baby?”
“Kicking away,” you card your fingers through Andrei’s hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. He leans into your touch like a cat. “I’m pretty sure she’s going to kick her way out, like in Alien.”
“Gross,” Andrei pulls a face and then ducks closer to your stomach, whispering to the bump. And in Russian too, so even though you can hear him, you can’t understand him.
You nudge his shoulder with a foot. “Secrets, secrets are no fun, unless you share them with everyone,” you tease.
He shakes his head, “it’s between a father and his child.”
“Rude,” you roll your eyes affectionately, pouting a bit. “Take me to bed, Mister Svechnikov, it’s past my bedtime and growing your child is making me sleepy.”
“Whatever you want, Mrs. Svechnikova,” he grins.
All of his post-game excitement is worn off by the next morning and he’s back to worrying about missing the baby’s birth. “Please, Drei, go to Nashville,” you sigh, rubbing at your lower back. “You’ll be back Thursday afternoon. Your mom and dad are coming in this afternoon. There’s nothing happening.”
“I just don’t want to miss anything,” he protests. His phone is on the counter and his fingers twitch, like he’s going to snatch it up and text Rod any second. You bat the phone away from him and scowl.
“Go to the game, Andrei,” you say firmly. “If anything happens, and it won’t, I’ll make sure someone gets the message to you and gets you on a plane back here, okay?”
“Okay,” he sighs, clearly wanting to argue with you more, but catches sight of the look on your face and wisely shuts his mouth. Eventually, he’s all packed up and is kissing you good-bye so he can head to the airport. “I love you, milaya,” he says against your temple.
“I love you, too,” you whisper, starting to feel a little emotional. Damn hormones. “I’m sorry I keep snapping at you.”
He chuckles a bit. “It’s okay, you’re allowed. I’ll see you in two days, okay?” His hands come up to cradle your belly. “Keep mama company, okay little one?”
You sniffle and laugh a little wetly. “I’ve got a foot wedged in my ribs, I’m never alone,” you joke.
With one more kiss, Andrei is off and you’re alone. It’s not like this is the first time he’s been gone during the last nine months, and there have been periods where he was gone even longer than two days, but maybe it’s because you’re so close to your due date that you’re feeling extra emotional.
To distract yourself, you make sharlotka - an apple cake from a recipe Elena sent you a few weeks ago when your main craving had been apples dipped in honey. She and Igor are already en route to Raleigh and you invited them over for dinner when they land, mostly to keep you company so you don’t go crazy.
Andrei’s in Nashville and has texted you about fifteen times by the time his parents Uber to your place. You click over onto FaceTime and grin at him, “you can relax, my love. The calvary is here.” You turn the camera and his parents wave at him.
“We will take good care of her, Andreyusha,” Elena blows him a kiss.
“But we will not save you any cake,” Igor teases, holding up his plate, having immediately beelined for the dessert.
Andrei looks a little put out about the cake, but relieved that you’re not alone. “I thought you were going to relax?”
“A girl has to eat,” you tease. “We’re good here, focus on the game and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Elena and Igor end up staying in the guest room, exhausted from the travel, and you reap the rewards when you wake up to a full breakfast spread. “I couldn’t sleep,” Elena shrugs, her smile just like Andrei’s. “Besides, I needed to make sure my doch and grandbaby are well-fed.”
She pats your cheek and sets a plate full of eggs, toast, fruit, and bacon in front of you. You blink at the amount of food, knowing you’re definitely not going to be able to eat it all, but thank her effusively.
“I didn’t even think we had bacon or all this fruit in the house,” you comment, nibbling at a corner of the toast.
“You didn’t,” Elena laughs. “I went to the grocery store.”
“Oh, gosh! Elena, you didn’t have to do that,” you say. “You’re supposed to be on vacation.”
She waves you off, bracelets clinking together on her wrist. “This is vacation. With family, waiting for the baby? My girl, this is exactly what I want to do.”
“Oh, okay,” you slump back in the chair, trying to stretch your back. “If you’re sure…”
“I am sure, now eat some eggs. The calcium is good for growing the baby.”
“Yes, ma’am,” you jokingly salute and dig into the eggs. They’re actually really good - soft and creamy and definitely hitting the spot. You’re finishing breakfast when Igor comes through the front door. You do a double-take - you thought he had been upstairs this whole time.
“Can’t have breakfast without pastries,” he winks at you, setting a bakery bag on the counter. His mischievous smile is just like Andrei’s. Elena pulls out a box stuffed full of croissants, muffins, turnovers, and doughnuts.
“Oh, wow,” you grin, reaching for a chocolate croissant. “A girl could definitely get used to this treatment.”
After breakfast, you try to help clean up but are forced back down into the chair. They ask if you and Andrei have picked a name and that’s a big fat no. Neither one of you can agree on a name you like. You have a little idea forming in the back of your head, but you don’t want to say anything to Andrei until the baby’s born.
It’s a beautiful April day in Raleigh, so Elena hustles you all outside for a walk in the fresh air. It’s slow going since you’re hauling around the giant baby bump, but the fresh air feels good and the walk is helping the stiffness in your lower back. You assume the stereotypical pregnant woman pose, with your hands bracing at your lower back while you walk.
A little cramp ripples over your stomach and you wince, pressing your fingers into the spot. You wait, but it doesn’t happen again, so you figure it was probably breakfast settling. But you’re on alert for the rest of the day, just in case. The only thing still bothering you at dinner time is your lower back, but that’s been sore and stiff for two weeks now, so you assume it’s just from the weight of carrying the baby.
At least, that’s what you assume until it’s thirty minutes to puck drop and you feel a slight popping sensation between your legs, accompanied by a trickle of liquid.
You stand stock still for a beat and then mutter, “oh, shit. Andrei’s going to kill me.”
Elena looks up from her book and frowns at you, “what’s going on?”
“I, ah, think my water broke,” you grip the countertop tightly. Liquid continues to drip down your thighs and there’s a little cramp like the one you felt earlier. “Oh, yeah, definitely my water breaking.”
Andrei’s parents jump up from their spots on the couch and from there it’s a flurry of action. You call your mom and she has your dad in the car before you can even get a word in beyond “hey, mom, I’m in labor.” They’ll be at your place within the hour.
A stronger cramp grips your stomach and now you realize that you’ve been feeling contractions for the last day or so. Andrei’s going to be so annoyed that you made him go to Nashville. Warm-ups have started and you know that Andrei’s unreachable by phone for the foreseeable future. You still text him anyway (“hi sorry i said nothing was gonna happen but i’m in labor 😅😬”) and when another contraction hits fifteen minutes after the last one, you figure it’s about time to head to the hospital.
While Igor drives, you text Heather Staal, wondering if she can get ahold of Jordan or Rod to let Andrei know before he gets on the ice. She promises to try and get the message across, reassuring you that you’ll be fine and Andrei won’t miss a thing. You really hope she’s right, because you’ll never hear the end of it otherwise.
You settle a bit once you get admitted and changed into the flimsy hospital gown. Your parents get to the hospital just a few minutes after you do and your mom immediately joins Elena in your room, making sure you have everything you need.
Right now, you just really need Andrei.
Your dad and Igor are in the waiting room watching, ironically, the Canes game. They pop back into the room every few minutes to offer an update.
“He’s still on the bench.”
“Took a shift, had an assist on a Brady goal.”
“Still on the ice.”
“First intermission and he’s going back to the room. No one looks like they’ve told him anything.”
You huff through increasing contractions while they update you, getting irritated.
“Start of the second, oh, he’s still on the bench.”
“What the fuck,” you mutter, grabbing your phone and texting Heather again. She’s sympathetic, but had texted Rod and wasn’t sure what was happening. You’re halfway ready to call Bridgestone’s main line and start screaming.
Your dad skids into the room while you’re gripping your mom’s hand through a contraction. “He’s off the ice! Looks like one of the assistant coaches told Rod something and then Andrei was yanked off the bench.”
You start crying, relieved that Andrei is finally going to be on his way.
Not even fifteen minutes later, he FaceTimes you.
“I’m on my way, solnyshka, I’ll be there soon,” the words burst out of his mouth. He’s half dressed, shirt buttoned all wrong and sweaty hair mussed over his forehead. “Are you okay? How are you feeling?”
“I’m okay, it hurts, obviously, but I’m okay. Just get here in one piece, okay? I’m so sorry I made you go to the game,” you wipe at the tears on your face, pressing your lips together to smother a shout as another contraction hits.
Andrei’s face is pale on your phone’s screen. “It’s not your fault. I’m on my way now, just hold on for a little bit.” He tells you he loves you and hangs up as he runs out of the locker room.
While you suffer through the contractions, Andrei texts you with updates. He’s booked on a flight out of Nashville that doesn’t leave until 10 and he’s clearly annoyed about it - there’s not a single emoji in his messages. You try not to freak out that he’s going to miss anything. At your last check, you were only 3 centimeters dilated, so there’s still hours of labor ahead of you. You pace the hallways, holding the IV pole keeping you hydrated, with your mom and Elena at your back for support. When you walk past a TV, it’s turned to the post-game and Rod is fielding a question about Andrei’s abrupt departure during the second.
Rod smiles on screen, “well, I’ll tell you it wasn’t for anything bad. His wife’s in labor back home, so as soon as we heard that, Svechy took off. Don’t think any of us could’ve stopped him even if we wanted to. We’re wishing the both of them the best of luck and can’t wait to hear about the newest member of the Caniac family. Next question?”
You start crying again, overly tired and overly emotional. You just want Andrei.
The epidural is administered around 11:30 and you doze off for a bit, waking up confused when a particularly bad contraction hits. “I thought I wasn’t supposed to feel anything?” You whine, gripping the rails of the bed.
The nurse hums at you sympathetically, “they’re not totally 100% effective, hon.”
You glare at her, but she’s clearly used to worse, because it doesn’t phase her at all. She just continues taking your vitals and making her notes.
Once the contraction passes, you ask, “have you seen my parents and in-laws?”
“I think the dads left, saying something about the airport, and the moms are in the coffee shop downstairs,” she pats your hand. “Sounds like you might be getting your husband here soon.”
And you do.
Thankfully, Andrei’s flight was right on time and smooth, so he landed in Raleigh at midnight and with your dad breaking speed limits, is at the hospital and by your side before 1:30. He skids into the room, looking frazzled. “I’m sorry, mne zhal, I’m so sorry, my love,” he babbles, stopping at your side and stroking your hair off your forehead before leaning down to kiss you. “I’m here. I didn’t know, they didn’t tell me until the second…”
The tears flow easily and you grip Andrei’s hand like never before. “I don’t care, I’m just glad you’re here now,” you break off into a shout and curl up when the contraction hits. Stupid fucking epidural.
He keeps hold of your hand and strokes your hair, murmuring in Russian. With his other hand, he rakes his hair off his face. Once you let go, he takes off his suit jacket, tossing it on the spare chair, and rolls up the sleeves of his button down. “How long, do the doctors say?”
“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Last check, I was like 6 or 7 centimeters.”
All four of your parents are hovering at the doorway and you wave them in with a sigh. Elena hands Andrei a coffee and a sandwich, kissing his cheek when he leans down. “Eat up, you are going to have a long night,” she says, smiling and barely hiding her excitement.
“Spasibo, mama,” he sighs, taking a long drink of coffee. Half the cup is gone and you watch him enviously. Your mom sets another cup down on the little railing tray table.
“That’ll be cold before you get to it,” she says, “but I’m sure you’ll need it.”
Andrei thanks her too and thanks the dads for getting him to the hospital so quickly. They both shrug him off, also barely concealing their excitement. Andrei laughs, “now, I think we’d like a little privacy?” He looks over at you and you nod tiredly. The four parents are kind of a lot to deal with all at once. He grabs the tangle of keys from his pocket and passes them to his dad. “Can you bring me a change of clothes and my car?”
Of course, Igor agrees and all four parents follow him from the room, debating on who will go and which cars they’re going to switch around. You honestly don’t care what they do, just that they leave.
Once they’re all gone, Andrei sucks in a deep breath and sits on the edge of the bed. “Okay, just us now,” he says, sounding a little dazed.
“Just us and the kid,” you reply, exhausted.
“Just us and the kid,” he repeats, smiling slightly. “The timing on this kid,” he shakes his head.
“I know,” you laugh. “I really didn’t think anything was going to happen.”
“It’s all happening now though,” Andrei holds your hand, barely flinching when you squeeze.
Your labor stalls briefly and then it’s nearly 3 a.m. and you’re pushing. Andrei’s at your side, holding one of your legs up by the thigh. He has the other arm wrapped around your shoulders and you’re nearly bent in half. The doctor counts down from ten and then you’re allowed to slump back against the pillows for a few seconds of a break.
“It hurts,” you sob, grasping for Andrei’s hands. He wipes at your tears.
“I know, I know, but you’re doing so good,” he croons. “You’re doing so good and we’ll have a baby soon.”
You’re instructed to push again and Andrei cheers you on, murmuring encouragement in your ear. You shriek, your entire body too hot and too tight and then there’s a release and a different cry.
“Oh,” you drop back against the pillows, suddenly empty.
Andrei looks down at you in shock and then at the baby that’s held in the doctor’s hands, bloody and screaming. He laughs and kisses you deeply, “it’s a girl! A little girl, moya koroleva. You did it.” He bounces on the balls of his feet, vibrating with excitement.
“A girl?” You cry, laughing with joy when the baby’s held up and placed on your chest. “Oh my god, it’s a girl.” Your hands wrap around the baby instinctively, cradling her little head, sobbing as you look at her features.
Andrei’s crying too, his eyes red. He wipes the back of his wrist under his nose and presses her forehead against your temple. “She’s beautiful. Just like her mama.” His voice is hoarse and tears are dripping onto your bare shoulder.
“Drei,” you whisper, full of emotion, and he gets it, kissing you deeply.
“I am so proud of you, my love. My two girls. My best girls,” he laughs, disbelieving. He settles one hand on the baby’s back and she looks impossibly small under his touch.
Time seems to blur from there and you’re allowed to keep the baby on your chest while the nurses run their tests. You hear snippets - she’s 6 pounds, thirteen ounces, twenty-one inches long - but otherwise you have tunnel vision on the gorgeous little baby that’s all yours and Andrei’s. Andrei gets her for skin-to-skin time while they clean you up and you sob again, watching him cradle her on one forearm. He looks up at you, hair flopping over his forehead, exhausted dark circles under his eyes, and beams at you, full dimple and missing tooth showing.
“I love you,” he mouths and then he looks back down at the baby, his expression soft and awed.
Before you know it, you’ve managed to feed the baby and get in a little nap in your private room. Andrei’s stretched out on the little couch, feet dangling over the edge. He hasn’t changed, even though his dad brought back clothes hours ago, so he’s still in his suit pants and dress shoes, button down shirt half-buttoned. He’s dozing too, getting in a nap since he’s been awake for over 24 hours at this point. At some point you know the four parents are going to be bursting down the door to meet her, but for now, they’re respectfully staying at your house until you call to give the okay to come by. It’s nice that they’re letting you and Andrei have time to bond with her, although from the amount of crying when Andrei had called to tell them it was a girl, you don’t think they’ll be able to hold off too much longer.
The nurse brings in the baby in her little plastic bassinet, cheerfully transferring her to your arms so you can feed her again. “Does she have a name?” the nurse asks, getting you all situated. It’s the second time you’ve been asked about her name, but you haven’t had a chance to run your idea by Andrei.
Before you can answer, Andrei’s voice cuts in. “Yeah,” he yawns, “does she have a name?”
You laugh, “no, not yet. But I did have an idea.”
Andrei looks at you expectantly, but you wait until the nurse leaves to speak. Without looking at him, you trace your finger over the slope of the baby’s nose - your nose - and it twitches, like a little rabbit. Andrei smiles at the sight.
“A little zaychik,” he says, watching her nose twitch again while she sucks at your nipple. “What name did you have in mind?”
“I was thinking,” you start, looking up at him, “she needs a name that means something to us. I’d like to name her after someone that means a lot to us too. A name that can inspire her and well, what do you think of Evgenia? Evie for short.”
Andrei’s face freezes and his hand is still against the bottom of the baby’s foot where he’s been stroking with his index finger. He coughs, swallows. “For Geno?”
“Yeah,” you confirm, “since he’s your best friend. I thought it might be nice to honor him.”
Andrei’s eyes well up and he runs the back of his wrist under his nose again while nodding. “I…yeah, solnyshka, yeah. I like that. I think he’ll like it too.” He sniffles and kisses your forehead. Looking down at the baby, he strokes her little hand where it rests on the swell of your breast. “What do you think, Evgenia? Are you an Evie?”
Evie’s little nose twitches again and you press your lips together to muffle a little cry. Seems like that’s settled.
“Evie,” you murmur, heart bursting with love. “She’s going to be the best adventure, huh?”
“We’ll definitely have a good story to tell her about her birth,” he laughs a little wetly, taking her from your arms when she’s done eating. He burps her the way the nurse showed him earlier, looking like a natural. Evie sighs and settles, falling asleep in his arms, her little lips pursed in a pout.
While she’s sleeping, Andrei pulls his phone from his pocket and FaceTimes Geno, clicking the volume lower so his brother’s shouted greeting of excitement doesn’t wake the baby. It’s well after breakfast in San Jose and Geno is outside, sun shining brightly behind him.
“Well? My baby brother has a baby?” Geno grins. “Mama called, but wouldn’t tell me if it’s a boy or a girl or the name. Said you two wanted to share that news. Although you didn’t have a name picked when she called.”
Andrei settles on the mattress next to you and you wave at Geno, a tired smile on your face. “That’s because we just picked it like ten minutes ago,” you laugh.
“You look good, mladshaya sestra,” Geno says warmly. “Now don’t keep me waiting. Uncle Geno’s dying to hear.”
Andrei angles his phone down so Evie’s face fills the screen and you can hear Geno’s exclamation of excitement. “Meet your niece, Evgenia Svechnikova. Evie for short.”
Geno’s speechless for a moment and then he starts rambling in Russian, his voice hoarse and clearly emotional. Andrei’s crying again and then you’re crying and the only one not crying is the actual hours-old baby.
“Evie,” Geno repeats. “She’s beautiful.” He pauses and then jokes, “clearly takes after her namesake.”
Andrei shifts the phone back up so it’s just the adults on screen and you can see Geno wiping at his eyes. You lean your head against Andrei’s shoulder.
“I love you guys,” Geno says.
“We love you too, Uncle Geno,” you reply.
“I’m hanging up before you make me cry again,” he laughs, waving and ending the call. Andrei chuckles and sets his phone down on the mattress near his leg.
“That went well,” he deadpans, a smile playing at his lips.
“I can’t wait to tell your parents her name,” you smirk. “I don’t think there’s enough tissues in the greater-Raleigh area for the flood that’s gonna come out of your mom.”
Andrei looks down at Evie, “are you ready to meet your babushki and dedushki, zaychik?”
Evie continues to sleep soundly, her little face twitching as she dreams.
“I think the question is if we’re ready for the babushki and dedushki,” you tease, holding onto Andrei’s bicep with one hand and tracing the shell of Evie’s ear with the other. She’s just so perfect, you could stare at her forever.
The grandparents are invited to come by after dinner, after you’ve sent Andrei home to shower and eat a real meal. The nurses take Evie to the nursery and you get a solid chunk of sleep. Andrei’s back before you know it, holding a takeout bag in one hand and a little shopping bag in the other.
“What’s that?” You sit up, curious, and set aside your phone. It’s been blowing up with congratulations from your family members and the team.
He sets the takeout bag in front of you, “sushi, as requested.”
You moan happily, “oh thank God, I’ve been craving a spicy tuna roll.” You dig into the food while Andrei sets the other bag on the mattress. He looks a little embarrassed, ears pink, so you wait for him to share.
“I passed by that boutique you like,” he says, pulling out a tissue paper wrapped bundle. “And saw this.” He unwraps it and a little beige onesie spills out, softly ribbed fabric extending up into a hood with a pair of floppy bunny ears attached.
“Oh!” You gasp, all thoughts of sushi forgotten as you take the little outfit. “Drei!” You start crying again. “It’s so cute!”
“Evie needs to be dressed in her finest to meet the grandparents,” he laughs.
“Dressed as a little baby bunny,” you cry, wiping at your face. “Dammit, these hormones are killing me. Ugh, Drei, I love this. I love it and I love you and I love her and I…” You break off into a choking little sob-laugh. “I can’t believe she’s ours.”
He wraps you up in a hug and you cry into his shoulder - he smells like laundry detergent and home. “I can’t either,” he agrees, exhaling in disbelief. Yesterday you were a duo and now you’re a trio.
Andrei pulls back from the hug and looks down at you, eyes twinkling. “Should I go get the little zaychik? Get her all presentable for the grandparents?”
When he brings her back, Evie’s dressed in the little bunny onesie, waving her hands in the air and you promptly start sobbing again. Andrei patiently rubs your back while you blubber about how adorable she is.
He settles her in your arms, already a natural at holding her. You knew he was going to be an amazing dad, but you could never have imagined this.
“Your dada is the best man in the world, Evie,” you whisper to her, kissing a little baby fist when she waves it around. Andrei just looks at you like you’ve hung the moon, a sweet, tired smile on his face.
Considering the fact that your entire lives have just changed, you’ve never felt happier.
513 notes · View notes
mactavishenjoyer · 7 months ago
Text
I'm not a writer but fanfic idea
Simon's touch always felt so comforting to John. The only thing about that that changed when they were outside the comforts of their home, when they were Ghost and Soap, was just the frequency of it. Instead of long hugs where the weight of the world didn't seem crushing it was slight brushes of their fingers while walking past each other. Brushes that reminded them that they couldn't die out there. How would the team be able to control the surviving partner if they did? Soap would joke that living was his public service. How would price be able to control Ghost without him?Soap made Ghost more human. You couldn't kill a ghost but you can kill a human. Humans are sloppy. Humans don't think things through. If they think that the only person they hold in their heart is hurt they will do anything to save them. "Soap?" Ghost said into his radio, A sense if dread filling him as the silence persisted. "Johnny, how copy?" Maybe soap is fucking around, he never was the best at responding faster then it took Ghost's mind to come up with all the way's soap could be dead. After 10 agonizing minutes Ghost finally got a response in the form of plea for help. Ghost's feet moved before he could even process the sound. Before ghost could even process that it wasn't soap's voice.
Soap awoke with a piercing headache. Shit someone must have knocked him out. He could feel the dried blood crusted in his hair. How long was he out for? He should radio to ghost, he's probably freaking out. With a sigh at realizing the long talk he was going to get for his injuries he talked into his radio only to hear his own voice a few feet away. Soap looked up, eyes adjusting to the darkness. Even in a dark room he knew the shape of his love ...even with a gaping wound where his face should be he knew it was him. Propped against a wall as if someone wanted Soap to wake up to it. The sounds Soap made were ones of anguish. Ones from the deepest parts of his soul. "Si-" soap chocked on his own words as he reached his trembling hand out "you... fucking idiot." The feel of Ghost's skin wasn't one of comfort. It was cold. Soap felt only pain and suffering as he embraced Ghost's body. This wasn't in Soap's plan. He was supposed to die first. This isn't how it was supposed to be.
Or something like that idk again not a writer🤷
58 notes · View notes
broadwayfangirl222 · 11 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
one, their little smirks are funny. Also this moment honestly raises a really interesting question about their actual power and influence. Not even just Vox but the Vees in general. They're set up in a way where they all prop each other up. They all heavily rely on each other and their respective industries. Genuinely how successful and powerful would they be if they were on their own? How would they actually function if one of them was gone?
VELVETTE likely helps with their publicity and PR. Making sure they & their brands stay relevant and up to date with current trends and fashion and stuff ('cause while they both are pretty current, Vox and Val are from the 50s and 70s, there's bound to be this generational gap to a degree) I'd say more on her but there's only so much canon stuff we know/see about her.
VOX essentially is the salesman and tech guy out of the group. He sells their products and supplies them with top of the line equipment for their work and keeps their respective businesses/industries consistently moving forward. He basically keeps this all cohesive and organized as one unit operating together in sync. As well as making sure they all maintain the image Velvette likely spearheaded in making for them in the first place
VALENTINO I'd say helps keep all their employees "in line" (Like Vox saying he'll send that month's lowest earners Val's way so he can shoot them) and helps both Vox and Vel's industries by incorporating more sex appeal into them. Sex sells after all. Not to say Velvette and Vox aren't powerful in their own rights or can't hold their own but Val is the one we see brandishing weapons all the time and is easily the quickest to get physically violent out of the 3 of them. Like if they wanted someone dead Val probably would want to take care of that personally meanwhile I just get the vibe Vox and Vel would rather just save their time/energy and just get someone else to do it for them (unless it's obviously a personal thing like Vox's rivalry with Alastor)
Just with how they're talked about and operate as a group makes it genuinely difficult to gauge how powerful, successful and influential they'd be on their own. Like how did they first form this team? What were things like when it was just Vox and Val before Velvette showed up, or how did they all do before they even met?
97 notes · View notes
bunnytalksf1 · 5 months ago
Text
on ferrari politics, strategy and carlos sainz
Just a heads-up / disclaimer, i am a leclerc fan and therefore not unbiased. I did, however, come into the sport as a ferrari fan and tried to give Sainz his dues, and I still want him to, but- oh, well. We'll just get into it.
Ferrari, for a while, has actively suffered due to its own politics. Seb Vettel didn't seem to get on well in the atmosphere. They haven't been able to hold on for a championship since 2007.
There's a little bit of background I think is important for the current setup in ferrari:
Charles Leclerc was the last driver signed by the ex-TP, Arrivabene, and renewed by him also.
Carlos Sainz was the first (major) signing by Mattia Binotto, and was then propped by the management of the team through 2022, influencing car development in a negative direction.
After Silverstone 2022, Leclerc allegedly threatened to leave Ferrari. Binotto was fired and replaced with Fred Vasseur, who worked with Leclerc in his rookie season in F1 in Sauber. It's heavily speculated that this decision was made to please Leclerc and prevent him from leaving.
The 2022 and 2023 cars were influenced by Sainz's feedback predominantly, and his comfort.
Sainz has been beaten in teammate H2H by Hulkenberg, Leclerc and Verstappen. He looked good against a rookie Norris, which earnt him the Ferrari seat in 21.
In 2021, Sainz outscored Leclerc by five points. Leclerc had two dnfs to Sainz's zero, and lost probably about 40-50 points through no fault of his own. 2022, Ferrari started the year with the fastest car, and went backwards throughout because they refused to valorise their faster driver, who lead the championship by a fair distance after the first few races, picking up a grand slam in australia and winning by twenty seconds there, instead aiming to get Sainz "comfortable in the car" (Mekies' words). In 2023, from Carlos Sainz Sr's words, the car was developed in Sainz's direction, and every ferrari fan agrees the sf-23 was a shitbox. Still, Leclerc was the only driver to overtake Verstappen on equal stints (LV23) and picked up a ton of poles, outperforming his teammate and AGAIN losing out to bad luck with the trilogy of DNF, DNS, DSQ in a season. These weren't small points losses, either. all in all, he probably lost forty points alone in the second half of the season.
So, under Vasseur, the team is taking a different direction, being now firmly lead by Leclerc, who signed a contract extension of five+ years with the scuderia. Meanwhile, Sainz struggled to be offered more than a one-year deal, and there were rumours in the press about Ferrari wanting to bring in Albon, Norris in 2025/6. They very clearly wanted to keep that second seat open, regardless of Hamilton - his availability was just a bonus.
The narrative, somehow, has been twisted into Carlos' departure being comparable to Sebastian's: a betrayal. Carlos was offered an extension in 2023, and didn't sign it, and instead his camp decided to start talking about their Audi offers during the Monza 23 weekend, as a way to put pressure on surrounding contracts, and Ferrari basically turned around, and said: fine. Go if you want.
Sainz has had a full season to negotiate. He's not particularly a victim here, in my opinion. He's repeatedly, across the course of his four-year stint with Ferrari, ignored team orders in both quali and the race to serve his own interests, and lies in interviews after. Two recent instances that spring to mind are Bahrain 2024, where he implied to the press he had similar braking issues to Charles' (he didn't) and Barcelona 2024/ Austria 2024, where he went against his own TP to say he never agreed to saving his tyres after overtaking and making contact with his teammate, potentially costing Leclerc and the team a podium / a position.
There's a reason Sainz is leaving. If it weren't for Hamilton, it would be Albon, Norris, or someone else. The two drivers aren't a good fit. Vasseur said he had to calm them down every two GPs. Sainz's camp is reportedly incredibly toxic to be around, in general, and Ferrari is one of the only teams where somewhere in the contracts they can't prioritise upgrades to one driver. they're the only team to consistently bring upgrades to both cars, regardless of how urgent those upgrades are.
The team has been obsessed with giving Sainz and Leclerc equal status. Now its actively harming them. Leclerc has long been faster. In 2019 he outperformed a 4xWDC in the form of Seb Vettel at points. He won his first two races back-to-back. People who know both compare him to Verstappen. After firing Seb in 2020, it was expected Leclerc would lead the team moving forward, but Carlos came in and demanded equal status, and now there's a whole mess as a result. No other top team is this nice. RBR, McLaren, even Mercedes to some extent, make no pretenses about who they prioritise, and it helps them. There's team orders regularly. This doesn't happen at Ferrari, and even if it does, Sainz ignores them anyway. and this isn't just from this year. This is from 23, 22 ("stop inventing!" comes to mind).
Along with this, he lies (or is just delusional) to the media, about pace, damage, strategy. It's exhausting to keep up with. Then, when Leclerc hits back, he's labelled a poor sport (his comments about "that moment in his career" were so cheeky, but in my opinion, not uncalled for), and he also made a comment after imola quali, but it was in french, to canal+. Anyone who follows Leclerc knows these comments aren't out of nowhere, and he can bite back if he needs to.
The issue isn't teammates fighting each other. It's that there's long since been a power imbalance in this team and Ferrari has suffered as a result. And it looks like they're going to continue to suffer in the next few races.
(Just needed to get this off my chest. I think Sainz actually is a pretty decent driver, but his politics just. Rubs me the wrong way and I need him to sign a contract so everyone else can start to move. I'm sick of talking about him).
51 notes · View notes