#man gets to hold abrams hand once and THIS

[emry-stars-art]

Ok ok but royal au Andrew def does the Darcy hand flex™️ after any hand interaction with Abram

YOU UNDERSTAND MY VISION

[kvntonq]

𖤐 — I miss you, I'm sorry…

pairing - old man logan ft. human!reader

summary - Logan finds himself haunted by the memory of the one person he walked away from—but never stopped loving.

contents - angst! angst!! angst!!! no aftercare, sorry. heavily inspired from ‘I miss you, I'm sorry’ by Gracie Abrams, post-Logan storyline (good men don't perish in this household), brief flashbacks of arguments, breakups, Logan-Laura dynamics, Laura is slightly older than she was in Logan.

words count - 1846 words

The motel room is quiet, save for the low hum of the neon sign outside, its flickering red glow slipping through the slats of the blinds like a slow heartbeat. The air smells faintly of old smoke and worn-out fabric. Laura's curled up on the second bed, small and still, her breath a steady rhythm in the hush.

Logan sits on the edge of his own bed, elbows resting on his knees, one hand inside the battered lining of his jacket. His fingers close around the familiar slip of paper like it might disappear if he hesitates.

The photo's edges are soft, curled like petals. Faded from years of folding and unfolding. He doesn't look at it often—only when the silence starts to press against his ribs, squeezing the air out.

Tonight is one of those nights.

He lets his gaze linger.

You're laughing in the photo, eyes crinkled, head tipped back against his chest. His arms are wrapped around you, and you're wearing that stolen flannel—three sizes too big, sleeves swallowing your hands. He can almost hear your voice again, teasing: “Grumpy with a gooey center.”

You always saw right through him. Past the snarls and silence. Past the adamantium. Right to the part he never let anyone touch.

A ghost of a smile tugs at his mouth, but it doesn't last.

“I miss you,” he breathes, so quietly it's barely a sound. Like if he says it too loud, it might echo.

Well, it does because behind him, the sheets rustle. Laura sits up, blinking the sleep from her eyes. Her voice is soft, almost cautious.

“Couldn't sleep?�� Logan asks without looking.

“Bad dream,” she answers. Then, after a pause, “Heard you were talking.”

His jaw tightens. He slides the photo back into the pocket, ready to tuck it away—but she catches the motion.

“Who's that?” she asks, scooting closer beside Logan.

He doesn't answer right away. Just stares at the photo like he might fall into it. Then, finally, he holds it out to her.

Laura looks down at the worn image in his hands—eyes instantly softening at the sight. She's never seen Logan in a photo like this—unguarded, real. There's a warmth in his eyes, a light she's never known him to carry.

“She looks… kind,” she finally says, but her voice is a bit quieter this time. Like she's realizing the woman beside Logan wasn't just someone. She was the someone.

“She… was.” His voice catches at the edges, cracked and gravel-thin. Was? Is? Even he couldn't comprehend the right terms to describe you.

Laura doesn't ask again. Just wait—patient, like she's learned that silence is sometimes how you earn trust. She studies the photo like she's trying to see the version of him that belonged to that life.

“What happened?” she finally asks.

Logan leans back, head hitting the wall with a soft thud. He exhales like it hurts. “I left,” he says, staring at the ceiling. “Thought it was the right thing. I told myself… I was protecting her.”

He swallows hard.

“I said forever,” he adds, voice rough now. “And she believed me. Hell, she always has.”

Laura doesn't say anything. She just looks at him with that quiet, perceptive expression she gets when she's trying to understand the parts of him he never talks about. The parts that hurt too much to name.

The silence stretches, thick with the weight of things unsaid.

Then she passes the photo back, careful as if it's fragile. And maybe it is.

“You still love her,” she says simply. Like the matter of a fact.

He nods once, jaw tight. Doesn't trust himself to speak.

FLASHBACK

Your apartment was small, cluttered, and warm. Plants in the window, books stacked in corners, his flannel tossed over the back of a chair like it belonged there. Like he belonged there.

But Logan had that look in his eyes, again—distant, stormy. You could feel it before he even said anything. The way his shoulders were pulled tight. The way he didn't touch you when he walked in.

“You're leaving again,” you said, not as a question. Just a tired truth.

He winced. “It's not safe. Not with the kind of people after me.”

You stood, arms crossed, voice soft. “It's never been safe, Logan. But, I'm still here.”

He wouldn't meet your eyes. “You shouldn't have to be.”

You stepped forward, slower now. Like approaching something skittish. “Is that what you really think? Or is it just easier to disappear than to stay and risk being loved?”

The silence between you stretched.

“Do you remember happy together? I do, don't you?”

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head. “God, I bet you do. You'll remember the good parts, right? That way you don't have to feel bad about walking away.”

And that hit him. You saw it—the flinch in his jaw, the clench of his fists. But he didn't move. Didn't make the effort to fix it.

“You said forever, Logan,” you whispered. “And I almost bought it.”

He looked at you then, really looked. Eyes full of all the things he wasn't saying. The ache, the fear. The love. But he still turned away.

“I never should've dragged you into this,” he said.

You stepped back, arms falling to your sides. “You didn't drag me. I ran toward you. And you let me.”

He didn't answer. The door shut behind him a moment later. No goodbye.

The motel smells faintly of old coffee and dust when Laura wakes up.

Sunlight spills through the blinds, painting gold lines across the floor. Logan's already up, sitting on the edge of the bed, brooding, silent as ever.

Laura stretches, then watches him for a second. Like Logan, she's never been great with people. But something about the photo last night has stayed with her—heavy and unfinished.

“You ever think about going back?” she asks, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed.

Logan looks over. “To what?”

“To her.”

Logan's shoulders tense. A pause.

Laura presses, not unkindly. “She looks like someone who deserved an explanation.”

He doesn't meet her eyes.

“I could come with you,” she adds. “You could take her something. I don't know. Flowers. Or… just words.”

For a moment, something cracks in his face—just for a second.

He swallows hard. Stares at the floor.

“I can't,” Logan replies quietly.

Laura frowns. “Why not?”

A long, aching silence. Then, with a voice raw enough to bleed, he says, “because she's gone.”

Laura doesn't say anything. Just stares at him—eyes wide, mouth parted.

“Oh,” she says, barely audible. And then again, softer: “Oh.”

He nods. Once. Like it's the only thing he can manage.

Laura lowers her gaze to her lap, hands twisting in the fabric of her shirt. Silence falls between them, but now it feels like mourning.

“I'm sorry,” Laura says.

Logan nods again, and this time it's like the weight of it folds him in half.

“I kept telling myself I was keeping her safe by staying gone. That I was poison.” He scoffs. “Turns out, leaving didn't save her either.”

Somewhere inside him, something breaks.

“She died thinking I didn't love her enough to stay.” His voice cracks.

“You don't have to tell me…” Laura interrupts before Logan shakes his head.

“I have to. I want to. I need to let it out.”

“I wasn't there. I didn't find out until a week later. A neighbor called. She'd been sick. Didn't tell anyone. Not even… me. Maybe she thought I'd come running if I knew. Maybe she wanted to spare me.”

Laura stares. “But she loved you.”

“Yeah,” he says, voice hoarse. “That's what makes it worse.”

“I loved her too much to stay… and not enough to say it.”

And in that breaking, he finally lets it in—not just the grief. The guilt. The years he could've had. The mornings you would've danced barefoot in the kitchen. The chance to say “I'm sorry” when it could've mattered.

He pulls out a folded scrap of paper. The ink is faded, the writing familiar. He opens it, lays it on the sheets like a confession.

Laura leans closer. It's a letter. Unfinished. From you.

“If you ever come back, I hope you find this. I hope you still remember how to be loved. I never stopped—not even when it hurts.”

At the bottom, scrawled in his handwriting: “I'm sorry I didn't come back in time.”

The truck rolls to a stop on the edge of a forgotten patch of desert. The sky stretches endless above them, washed pale by the sun. There's nothing around but scrub brush and silence—except for one crooked wooden cross nestled between a pair of weather-worn stones.

Laura climbs out slowly, her boots crunching the dry earth. Logan doesn't move right away. Just sits behind the wheel, fingers tight around it.

“You okay?” she asks, already knowing the answer.

He gives her a short nod. “Go ahead. I'll catch up.”

Laura hesitates, then walks the short distance to the grave. The cross is simple. No name, no date—just a weathered photo tucked into the edge, kept safe behind a cracked bit of plastic. Your smile stares up at her.

Laura kneels beside it.

“You were really pretty,” she says softly. “And you must've been something special… ‘cause he still looks at you like you never left.”

She glances back at the truck. Logan hasn't moved.

Laura turns back to the grave. “I didn't know you. Not really. But I think I get it now. Why he's like that. Why he doesn't let people close.”

Her fingers skim the edge of a stone.

“He misses you,” she adds. “A lot. And I think he's truly sorry for all the things he didn't say.”

A moment later, she hears footsteps behind her. Heavy. Hesitant. Logan stops just short of the grave, jaw clenched, shoulders stiff.

Laura stands and steps aside. Logan crouches slowly, fingers brushing the earth before setting a wild flower at the base of the stone.

“You should've yelled at me more. Slammed a door. Something. But you never did. You just… kept loving me.” His voice is thick. “Even when I didn't give you much to hold onto.”

The wind moves around them, soft and warm.

“I should've stayed,” he says, voice low and cracked. “I thought I was protecting you. But really… I was just scared.”

He reaches into his jacket, pulling out the letter.

“I read this every night. Until the words started blurring with my own.”

He looks up to the sky. “I still miss you,” he says. Then, softer: “And I'm still sorry.”

He rests a hand on the earth like it's your shoulder. “I'll come again later. I promise.”

Then, he stands.

Laura too, stands beside Logan in silence. She doesn't say it out loud, but something about this place—about the stillness—feels like the goodbye he never got to give.

And maybe, that's what love really is. Not always staying, not always surviving—but remembering. Carrying what's left, even when it hurts.

feedback and reblogs are appreciated!!

divider by: @elleisdesigning

tags!! @themareverine @princessanglophile @wchswift @dimlylittorch @flowersforbucky @briseroyawritingsblog @loganismybodyguard @tezooks @mcrdvcks @xxladymjxx @howlettsangel @sweetverine @sidkneeeee @lubdubology (lmk if you wanna get added or removed!!)

[sunsetchicane]

i love you, i'm sorry [QH43]

quinn hughes x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k

summary: two years after breaking things off with Quinn, you find yourself going to Game 1 of Round 2 of the Playoffs, completely unprepared to see the man you still harbour feelings for.

based off of: this is loosely based off of I Love You, I'm Sorry by Gracie Abrams

warnings: aggressive amounts of pining (like, probably annoying), two swear words, a few kisses, mentions of a breakup (so like, kinda angst? idk man), copious amounts of cheesiness, probably extremely inaccurate descriptions of the game, not great writing lol. let me know if i missed anything!

author's note: okay, i haven't written anything on here yet due to a horrendous case of writer's block and many hours of working. so, this is definitely not my best work, but it was a fun way to try move past my writing slump. i really do hope that anyone who reads this does enjoy! love, addi <3

Vancouver’s streets preserve memories well. You found that out when, even two years after things had fallen to pieces, you couldn’t go anywhere without seeing the two of you holding hands, sharing quiet laughs, and stealing kisses. You’d thought that after two years you would’ve been able to shake those memories off when they plagued your mind; but it was hard when he was plastered across banners and fans sported his jersey for half the year. 

He was making his name known throughout the NHL, and you couldn’t ignore the buzz around Quinn Hughes when the Canucks made it to the Stanley Cup Playoffs. 

After you and Quinn had broken things off, you had to find separate friend groups to belong in. The two of you had shared too many mutual friends. The group of ladies you did manage to find yourself among knew nothing about your past relationship with the captain of the Canucks. When the city was gearing up for the first round of the playoffs, even your friends couldn’t stop talking about the sport. 

You were standing outside, leaning against the railing on a BC ferry, returning from visiting family on the Island, when you received a call from your friend Lydia. You picked up without hesitation. 

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked. 

She immediately giggled, which honestly had you a little scared. “I have a surprise,” she said excitedly, the last word dragged out. 

You snorted. “Am I allowed to ask what it is?” 

“It’s a really big surprise, and you have to promise not to scream when I tell you,” she laughed, acting like a teenage girl again. It was one of the things you really did love about her – her ability to bring childlike joy with her wherever she went. 

“I promise not to scream, Lyd,” you assured her, hoping she was satisfied. 

She paused for dramatic effect, and you let her. You knew she was having fun with it. 

“We’re going to the first game of round 2 of the playoffs!” she squealed. 

Your phone nearly slipped through your fingers, almost lost to the sea. You stepped away from the railing, suddenly very glad there was no one on the deck with you. Your heart clenched in your chest. The last time you had been to a game was when you and Quinn had still been together. He wouldn’t even know you were in the crowd, but you would be painfully aware of him in the centre of the arena. 

“Okay, you’re even quieter than I thought you’d be,” Lydia commented, reminding you that there was someone on the other end of the line. 

You debated for a moment what to say. Would it best to just blurt out that you had dated Quinn Hughes and you were not exactly ready to go watch him play again? Definitely not. 

“Uh, yeah, I’m just surprised!” That wasn’t a lie. “How’d you get the tickets?” 

“My dad,” she said simply. “When I told him I wanted to go see the Canucks, he was suddenly the proudest parent in the world. You know how he is – once he gets an idea in his head, whether it’s planted there by me or not, he has to do it.” 

“Wow, that’s–that’s crazy!” you said stiffly, still unsure of how to act. 

“Yeah, and it gets better! We’re sitting right behind the Canucks’ bench!” 

You nearly choked on nothing. “What?” 

“I know, right? I don’t know how my dad managed it, but he did,” she told you, completely unaware of your stuttering heart. “Who knows, maybe we’ll catch some players’ eyes,” she joked, and you tried to force a laugh out with her. 

“Yeah, maybe.” What you didn’t add out loud was your brain screaming please no. 

After a few more minutes of chatting and you pretending to be completely sound of mind, Lydia said goodbye, telling you she would send the details soon. 

You pocketed your phone and leaned against the railing once more. You watched as the sun brushed the horizon, casting a beautiful pink against the clouds. Vancouver was getting close, and for obvious reasons, you were suddenly dreading it. You wanted to sit on the ferry until it returned to Vancouver Island. 

You sighed and rested your chin on your folded arms. You heard a faint buzzing sound above you, and lifted your eyes to the sky. A plane was coming to land at the Vancouver Airport. As it approached, you let yourself imagine it was Quinn flying back from Nashville, and you felt your heart tighten in your chest once more, because you were terrified to see him again, but also because you still missed him. Maybe you were scared to see him because you missed him. 

You dropped your forehead to your arms once more and groaned loudly, the ocean and the brightening city lights your only listening companions. 

When the morning of May 8th arrived, you found yourself unable to shake the anxiety that had made a home in your chest over the last few days. There was a tenseness in your shoulders that never left, and a squeezing at your heart that seemed relentless. 

The group chat you shared with your friends had been buzzing incessantly, the girls incredibly excited. Every now and then you made your fingers put a message out there that hopefully hid your anxieties from them. 

After much procrastination, you eventually made your way to your closet. After tugging on a simple pair of blue jeans, you reached towards the back of your closet. Your fingers closed around the unmistakable, thick material of the jersey. Taking a deep breath, you pulled it out. Your only Canucks jersey of course, had to be Quinn’s home jersey from two seasons ago. No one would know it was the jersey that he had pulled over his head before every home game. However, you knew. There was no C on the left side of the chest, and your mind was pulled back to the relationship you had shared.  

You often questioned why you and Quinn had even ended things. You missed him so much still, and you were plagued by the way you knew it had been the wrong choice. You had been growing apart as he was dealing with growing attention and expectations within his career, and a promotion at your own job had stolen your energy and attention. You had both been tired and short with one another, and eventually the tension built and had blown up in a terrible way. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to force both the guilt and continued yearning out of your busy mind. 

When Lydia texted that she and the girls were on the way to your apartment, you reluctantly pulled the jersey over your head. The sleeves covered most of your hands, and the fabric fell past your hips and part way down your thighs. You pulled on a pair of shoes and left the safe space that was your apartment, locking the door behind you. 

Rogers Arena was packed and the energy in the building made you feel like you could start vibrating. You and your friends held hands so as not to get separated. You were glad when your friends made no comment on how tightly you squeezed their hands, or how sweaty your palms might have been. 

You were made significantly more nervous when you realised that Lydia had not been exaggerating about your seats. You were sitting right behind the bench. 

The arena was filling up steadily, and you sat there in between your friends, not speaking a single word. It had been a couple years since you had been here, and while you were very nervous, the familiarity came rushing back to you and it helped to slow your fast beating heart. 

If you closed your eyes, you could imagine Quinn smiling at you from the other side of the glass, and laughing when you blew him a kiss. 

You wrapped your arms gently around yourself, the once very stiff material of the jersey now very easily shifted and manipulated. You knew it didn’t smell like him anymore, but when you let yourself get lost in the feeling of his old jersey, it was like he was right there. You were wrapped in him still, and you doubted it would ever go away. 

You were shocked out of your own thoughts when your friends, along with the rest of the fans around you, started cheering. The Canucks and the Oilers were on the ice, starting to warm up. Your eyes searched the ice quickly, and gliding easily across the ice on the opposite side of rink, was the captain, the number 43 embroidered on his jersey, just like the one you adorned. 

Your own cheeks heated up when it really hit you that you were wearing his old jersey. You weren’t together anymore; what were you thinking? He could see you– what would he think when he saw you right behind his bench, wearing the jersey he had gifted you?

You suddenly wanted to throw up more than ever. He exchanged a few words with Elias, and laughed at something his buddy had said. Your heart ached in longing once more. You had missed his laugh so much. 

Quinn now had facial hair, something he hadn’t had when he was with you. His hair was longer, peeking out from beneath his helmet. He already seemed much more grown up. He looked like a captain, something who had become used to leading his team. Quinn had always been somewhat confident in his abilities as a hockey player, but it was easy to tell that he had really gotten used to his role on the team and had come into his own over the past two years. 

The girls grabbed your hands and walked into the aisle, just to get right up to the glass. Your face burned and you tried to hide behind some of your friends. You kept your heads down and your arms folded. 

Your friends held up hats and other paraphernalia that they desperately wanted signed by players. 

“Y/N!” One of your friends practically shouted. You suddenly noticed that they had all stopped cheering. You looked up to see them parted in front of you. 

Quinn was on the other side of the glass, looking right at you. 

Your friends shoved you up the glass, giggling and squealing. You nearly ran into the glass from the force of their shoves. Quinn laughed at you, his smile exactly how you remembered it. 

He pointed at the white Canucks towel in your hands and shouted, “toss it over!” The arena was so loud you were glad he had mouthed it clearly. You hesitated but threw the towel over. With one glove off and in the other hand, he caught it. He gestured to one of your friends to throw over the Sharpie she was holding. She did gladly, happy to be included. He caught it easily and started to write quickly on the white fabric. Your heart did flips while watching him, and your hands shook with nothing to hold onto. 

He finally capped the pen and threw both the towel and marker over the glass. You struggled to catch it, but thankfully, you managed to hold onto it. You held it flat before you. 

Meet me by my car after. Usual spot. Your breath stopped slightly when you saw a rushed heart drawn next to the words. You looked back up to see him putting his glove back on. He gave you a warm smile that set you on a fire from the tips of your toes to the top of your head. You took a deep breath and nodded to him. His smile widened slightly. Before he turned to skate away, you saw him mouth the words, “nice jersey.” You stuttered for a second, and he simply winked and turned. 

Your friends all screamed and crowded you, looking at the towel. 

“Usual spot? What the fuck is going on?” Lydia yelled over the noise, cackling. 

You just blushed and shook your head, returning to your seat with the towel gripped tightly in your hands. 

As the teams continued to warm up, you explained as quickly as you could that you and Quinn had once been together. Your friends, of course, were shocked but also very excited for you at the prospect of reuniting with him. You simply waved your hands in protest. 

“I don’t even know if he wants to get back together with me! He might just want to catch up or something… we’re cool now and I don’t want to mess anything up.” 

“Girl, please!” one of your friends shouted. “He drew a motherfucking heart and winked at you! Of course he wants you back.”

You all laughed and you embraced the next blush that warmed your cheeks. 

The players left the ice, and minutes later, the lights went dark. The deafening sound of nearly 19,000 people screaming almost broke your eardrums. Blue light filled the room, and you looked up to see what was playing on the large screens above you. 

You watched the intro video and let a nostalgic, giddy feeling overtake you. You couldn’t help but smile. 

The arena fell back into nearly full darkness. You heard the beginning of a familiar sound of twinkly guitar that dragged you right back to 2011. Goosebumps rose up along your skin all over your body. That was the last time the Canucks had made it to the Playoff finals, and you hoped dearly that they could get there again. The playing of Where The Streets Have No Name from their intro from 2011 made hope take hold of you.

You couldn’t help but raise your particularly special white rally towel in the air to wave alongside all of the other Canucks fans in the building. 

It had been surprisingly easy to get into the players’ parking garage. Despite it being two years since you had been in the building, you were recognized by several people, who let you walk wherever you wanted. 

Your friends had practically shoved you to go after the game, screaming after you to call them later. You had laughed and walked away, your steps lighter than they had been in a long while. 

You later found yourself standing by Quinn’s car. It was the same one he’d had when you had been together. Your hand brushed the shining hood of the car, and you could see yourself in the passenger seat, laughing at something he’d said as the two of you drove around downtown Vancouver. 

“Thank God you actually showed up.” 

You whipped around, seeing a freshly showered Quinn in sweatpants and a hoodie making his way towards you. 

You tugged on the hem of the jersey, your heart beating quicker and quicker with every step he took. 

He stopped in front of you, and when you looked up, you both spoke. 

“I love you.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

Your eyes nearly popped out of your head. “You-what?” 

He bit his bottom lip before repeating himself. “I love you. I know it’s been two years, but-” 

“I love you, too,” you said quickly, blood roaring in your ears. “And I am so, so sorry. I never should’ve-” 

It was his turn to cut you off. “Don’t apologise, please. It’s not your fault.”

“Can you… can you please accept my apology, at least?” 

He smiled softly. “I forgive you. I’m sorry, too.” 

“I forgive you, too,” you whispered softly, your heart swelling with affection as you looked at him. You felt an intense relief flood your body. Your shoulders finally relaxed for the first time in what felt like years. He reached out and wrapped you in a warm hug. You melted into it, returning the gesture. 

“I missed you. So much,” you mumbled into his hoodie. 

One of hands gently scratched the back of your neck like he used to do. “I missed you, too.” He pulled away just enough to lean down and kiss your lips softly. Nothing had ever felt so natural. His playoff beard scratched your face and you laughed at the sensation, pulling away. 

“Not used to the beard,” you admitted, smiling widely. 

He smiled, too. “Yeah, what do you think? Should I keep it around?” 

You shrugged, leaning back into him. “Well, you’re very handsome either way.” 

“You think?” 

“Mhm. Your hair also looks very good. I like it longer like this,” you told him, ruffling his brown hair. He swatted your hand away and kissed your cheek. 

“Noted.” He looked down at me again. “Should probably get you a new jersey.” 

“Hm, you think I need the big ole C on here, Captain?” 

He shook his head, blushing. “Don’t call me that.” 

You laughed, wrapping your arms around him, bringing his head down for you to kiss. “Couldn’t help myself.” You grabbed his hands. “Congratulations on the big win, by the way.” 

“I can’t believe you came. I thought I was hallucinating or something when I saw you,” he told you honestly. 

“Well, I’m glad I came,” you admitted, running a hand through his hair. 

“You have no idea how happy I am right now,” he said, smiling wider than you had seen all night. 

You laughed, feeling pure joy in your heart. “I think I might have an idea.” 

[joeshiestyslover]

i miss you, i’m sorry- m. sturniolo

pairing: situationship!matt sturniolo x reader

summary: both you and matt have been miserable for the last week. matt (with the help of nick), realizes he made a mistake and is desperate to win you back.

warnings: language, angst, fluff, nick is a g

masterlist

lowercase intended

a/n: part two of i know it won’t work is finally here!! enjoy 🫶

empty. that’s how you’ve been feeling for the past week. you’ve lost all the motivation you once had. you can barely even get out of bed to take a shower or eat. you feel like complete shit.

you know that ending things with matt was the right thing to do, but why does it feel so wrong? matt has been texting and calling for the past few days, but you haven’t responded, knowing you have to stay strong and not run back to him.

the moment you met matt, you truly believed he was the one. you began to imagine the rest of your life with him, not being able to fathom him not being in it. you never thought, even in your wildest dreams, your relationship with matt would have ended the way it did. you love matt, more than anything in the world, but you can’t put yourself in that position again. matt doesn’t love you the way you love him, and you have to find a way to live with that.

you’re watching modern family in your bedroom when your phone rings next to you. you pick up the phone and see that it’s nick. you don’t want to let what happened with matt affect your relationship with chris and nick, but it’s so hard when they constantly remind you of him. nevertheless, you answer the call with a “hello?” “y/n! hey how are you doing?” nick was always the triplet you were closest with, even while you were with matt. he always checked up on you. “i’m fine.” you answer, but he doesn’t believe it. “you don’t have to lie to me babe. how are you really?” you can feel your eyes start to water. “i’m not okay nick.” you sniffle. “why doesn’t matt want me? i was so sure he did.” you can almost hear nick frown over the phone. “he’s a fucking idiot, y/n. he’s too dumb to see what’s right in front of him. what happened wasn’t your fault i promise.” he assures you. “i just really wanted it to work out.” you wipe your eyes to get rid of the tears, but they continue to fall. “i know hon, but you’ll be okay. you’re the strongest person i know. you’ll get through this.” you nod even though he can’t see you. “yeah you’re right.” “i always am.” you laugh a little at nick’s words. “if you ever need anything, you know you can call me right?” he asks. “yeah i know. thank you nick. for everything.” you respond. “of course y/n. i’ll call you later. i love you.” “i love you too nick.” you say before hanging up.

nick set his phone down on the couch before standing up and walking into matt’s room. he opens the door to see matt lying in bed, just staring at his phone. nick walks towards him and he can see matt looking at pictures of you and him. “matt.” nick begins. matt’s head shoots up before quickly shutting off his phone. “jesus can you knock?” matt snaps at him. “you’re such a dumbass, you know that right?” nick tells him. “what the hell is that supposed to mean?” matt questions. “i can’t believe you were the one that let her go, yet here you are sulking. you have no right to be sad. you fucked everything up with y/n!” nick began to raise his voice. matt doesn’t say anything and just looks down at his lap. “matt? hello? are you listening to me?” nick snaps his fingers to get his attention. “you don’t think i know that i fucked up?!” matt stands up from his bed. “i regret letting her walk out! i regret telling her that i didn’t want to be with her! i regret everything i said to her that day because none of it was true! i love her nick!” matt yells. nick just stands there, shocked at his confession. matt then sighs and sits back down, holding his head in his hands. “i miss her so much, man.” nick walks over and sits down next to him. “then go tell her that. don’t let her go until you let her know how you really feel because that girl is heartbroken because she thinks you don’t love her back.” matt looks up at him. “but what if she doesn’t want me back?” nick stares at matt with sympathy in his eyes. “trust me she will, and even if she doesn’t, at least you’ll know.” matt nods. “you’re right. i’m gonna go over there.” he stands up to change his clothes and grab his keys.

matt walks out the door and into his car. before matt goes to your apartment, he stops at the grocery store to get you your favorite flowers and candy. he pulls into your apartment complex and grabs the flowers and candy before running towards your apartment. once he arrives at your doorstep, he take a deep, shaky breath and knocks.

you’re in your kitchen making something to eat when you hear a knock at your door. you raise an eyebrow before walking over to open it. once you do, you see matt standing in front of you, holding your favorite flowers and candy. you immediately freeze, unsure of what to do or say. “y/n,” matt begins, “can i come in?” you stand to the side, letting matt inside. “umm these are for you.” he hands you the flowers and candy, and you walk over to your kitchen to set them on the counter. “what are you doing here, matt?” you ask in a somewhat cold tone. “i want to apologize for everything i said. i promise i meant none of it.” you just stare at him, saying nothing. “look, i know you probably don’t believe me. i wouldn’t either, but i do mean it when i say i really do want you. i was just scared. relationships honestly terrify me, and i guess i didn’t want to get hurt.” you sigh. “so you chose to hurt me instead?” “y/n, i promise that wasn’t my intention. you put me on the spot and i panicked. i know that we should have talked about it, but i decided to be an asshole and i am so, so sorry baby. i regret every cruel word that i said to you. just please-let me make this right.” matt begs. you think for a few seconds, still unsure if he actually means what he’s saying. “i don’t know matt. what you said hurt me. you hurt me. i trusted you and you threw that away. how can i be sure that you mean what you say? how can i trust you again?” you want to believe him so bad, but you can’t give into him just yet. “i promise i’m gonna do better. i’m gonna treat you the way you deserve. i’ll work every day to be the perfect boyfriend for you because i love you.” your eyes widen in shock. “you what?” you question him, thinking you heard him wrong. matt takes a step towards you. “i love you y/n. i love you so much it hurts. every time i look at you, i feel something i’ve never felt for anyone before.” he puts his hand on your cheeks, “i only want you, now and for the rest of my life. please, please give me this chance.” when he looks into your eyes, you can’t help but melt into his touch. your face softens. “oh matt,” you place your hands on his wrists, “i love you too.” he grins at your words. “really?” you roll your eyes playfully. “of course i do you fucking idiot.” you smile at him. “i’m just making sure because i-” he’s cut off by you pressing your lips against his. matt’s caught off guard, but melts into the kiss. his hands travel down to your waist and squeeze your hips lightly.

you pull away from the kiss and press your forehead against his. you let out a sigh of content. “what is it baby?” matt asks you. you smile and shake your head lightly, “i’m just happy.” he smiles as well before bringing his forehead away from yours. “y/n,” he begins, and you give him a look, silently telling him to go on, “can i be your boyfriend?” he asks, somewhat nervously. you grin, “yes matt you can be my boyfriend.” you look at him with love and affection in your eyes. matt lets out a breath, “okay good because that would have been really embarrassing if you said no.” “shut up.” you tell him before leaning up and kissing him once again, both of you smiling into the kiss.

[airybcby]

hii <3 my top song was i miss u, im sorry by gracie abrams

NOW THIS IS A SONG I CAN WRITE ABT FOR HOURS

if your top song was i miss you, i'm sorry by gracie abrams, i'd pair you with...

oliver aiku

જ⁀♡⊹｡° nothing happened in the way i wanted

♡ a/n — for my spotify wrapped event - masterlist - ** THIS EVENT IS NOW CLOSED **

♡ content — oliver aiku x gn! reader, gn! reader, established relationship, late night call, oliver misses reader BAD, mentions of alcohol

♡ synopsis — oliver aiku's been haunted by your ghost since you broke up with him, little does he know, you've also been plagued by memories of him

The apartment hasn’t changed much since you left.

It’s been months—maybe a year, he doesn’t really keep track anymore. The days blend together like the city lights outside his window, faint glimmers in the haze of a life lived too fast. But he can still feel you here, like you never really left.

Every corner of the place holds a piece of you. The couch still smells faintly like your shampoo. There’s a chip in the kitchen counter from that night you got too animated with a wine bottle, laughing so hard he almost forgot to stop you before you knocked it over. The bedroom—the one he hasn’t slept in since—is worse. It’s a mausoleum of all the things he lost, haunted by the warmth that used to fill it.

Oliver leans against the doorway, staring at the unmade bed. You hated when he left it a mess, and yet here it is, sheets tangled and pillows scattered like he’s still waiting for you to come back and fix it.

He runs a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling up. How did he let it get this bad? How did he get this bad?

The answer comes like it always does: because he’s Oliver Aiku. The man who ruins good things. The man who knew how to charm you into his life but not how to keep you there.

He sits on the edge of the bed, head in his hands. The memories hit harder in the silence. The fights—god, the fights—play out like a movie reel he can’t turn off. Your voice, raised in frustration, asking him why he always had to pull away. Him, deflecting with a cocky grin or a dismissive comment, too scared to admit that you mattered more than he could handle.

“I miss fighting in your old apartment,” you’d said once, after one of those rare, quiet nights together. It was a joke, your way of saying you hated arguing but loved him too much to walk away. He didn’t realize then how close you were to the edge, how much it took for you to stay when he gave so little in return.

And now he misses it too. Misses you.

His phone buzzes on the nightstand. For a second, his heart leaps—it’s a reflex, stupid and desperate—but of course it’s not you. It’s never you. He hasn’t heard your voice since the day you walked out, your face a mix of heartbreak and determination as you said, “I can’t keep waiting for you to grow up, Oliver.”

He still doesn’t know if he’s grown up.

The phone buzzes again. A text from a friend, probably asking him to hit the club. The thought makes him nauseous. He used to love the chaos, the noise, the way it drowned out everything real. Now it just feels hollow.

He picks up the phone, hesitates, and sets it back down.

You’re gone, but you’re still here—in the chipped counters, the unmade bed, the faint traces of your laugh that echo when he least expects it. He doesn’t know if he’ll ever let you go, or if he even wants to.

Oliver stands, his silhouette framed by the city lights. The night is eerily quiet, save for the distant hum of traffic below. He runs a hand through his hair, his chest heavy with the weight of everything unsaid, everything unresolved.

The phone buzzes again, and his heart skips a beat when he sees your name.

It’s been months. Long enough that he’d convinced himself you hated him. Long enough that he’d tried to hate you, too—but failed miserably.

This time, he doesn’t hesitate. His thumb swipes across the screen, and he presses the phone to his ear, unsure if he even remembers how to breathe. “Hello?”

For a second, there’s only silence. Then, he hears your breath on the other end of the line, shaky and uneven. “Oliver.”

Just your voice—soft, hesitant, laced with something he can’t quite place—is enough to unravel him. His jaw tightens, his free hand balling into a fist at his side. “It’s late,” he says, his voice low and careful, because he doesn’t trust himself to say anything else.

“I know,” you whisper, and he can hear the faint hum of music in the background, the kind you used to play when the nights got too heavy. “I just... I don’t know why I called.”

He closes his eyes, leaning against the cold glass of the window. “Are you okay?”

You laugh, but it’s hollow, more like a sigh than anything else. “Do you really care?”

The question slices through him, sharp and cruel, even though he knows you don’t mean it that way. Of course he cares. He’s cared every single day since you left. But before he can find the words to say it, you’re speaking again, your voice cracking just slightly.

“I thought... I thought I’d hate you by now,” you admit, and he can picture you, curled up on your couch, staring at the phone like it’s something you wish you didn’t have to hold. “But I don’t. And that makes it worse.”

His breath hitches. He wants to say something, anything, but the words stick in his throat.

“I shouldn’t have called,” you say suddenly, a little sharper now, like you’re trying to pull yourself back together. “Just—forget it, okay?”

“No,” he says quickly, the word tumbling out before he can stop it. “Wait.”

The silence stretches, heavy and fragile, and he’s afraid you’ll hang up before he can figure out what to say. But then, softly, barely loud enough for him to hear, you whisper: “I miss you.”

His chest tightens, and for a moment, he forgets how to breathe.

“Goodnight, Oliver,” you add before he can respond, your voice trembling but resolute.

The line goes dead, and he’s left staring at the phone, your words echoing in his mind.

He sets it down gently, his hands shaking. For a long time, he just stands there, staring at the city lights that blur and smear through his tears. He doesn’t leave the apartment that night. Instead, he sits in the dark, letting the memories wash over him like a tide he’s too tired to fight.

And for the first time in his life, Oliver Aiku doesn’t try to run from the things he’s lost.

i would fold immediately for him, but yk i made reader stronger than i ever will be

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[phant0mth1ef]

chapter 13: tested for an std

the venue was larger than what you were using to playing, and your bass sat comfortably on your lap as you took a seat backstage, watching the anarchy set up.

you didn’t know how to break things off.

didn’t know what to tell the man who’d honestly done nothing but love you for the two months that you’d known him. and the smile he was giving you at the moment wasn’t helping.

you’d gotten up from your seat, making your way over to where he was messing with his microphone stand.

“can i talk to you?” with that, he’d turned around and smiled at you, it was soft. warm. genuine.

“of course, what’s up?”

“in private, please.” he’d nodded as you took his hand in yours, leading him out to where the back door was.

the both of you stood by the exit, his eyes never leaving yours as you’d attempted to look the other way.

“ah.” he spoke, realizing why your gaze wouldn’t meet his.

you’d looked at the ground, ashamed. you did feel bad, but you knew you couldn’t stay in a relationship with someone who your heart didn’t yearn for.

“it’s. well.” he started to speak, breaking a silence that enveloped the both of you.

“i’m not gonna say it’s fine and that i get it. because honestly it’s not fine and i don’t get it. i’ve done nothing but be kind and understanding to you and you reassured me and told me you didn’t have feelings for him anymore. you let me get comfortable and essentially used me for physical interaction. i’m not going to stand here and pretend like it’s fair and your feelings are valid. but i’m also not going to berate you any longer.” he sighed, putting one hand on his hip and raising the other to hold his temple.

“because i know what it’s like to want someone who you know you can’t have.”

you’d seen his head move to where kendo was setting up her drums, and how his eyes lit up.

“m’sorry.” you mumbled, but he’d simply waved it off and walked away to continue fumbling with his microphone.

-

their performance all in all was fine, but you’d been sleuthing twitter and could tell what everyone had been saying about you and monoma. how you’d watched him so lovingly from backstage, a picture of you sat and watching intently was going around.

truthfully you were just trying to look at the crowd.

and it wasn’t until you were the one in front of the microphone with your bass that you’d seen a tuft of blonde hair that you’d known all too well.

you were swallowing your pride, and your ears nearly going deaf due to kaminaris loud drumming in your ear, you’d pretended you hadn’t seen him as your tongue enunciated each word clearly.

on the other side of the stage sat bakugou with his friends as they’d all eyed him as he’d eyed you, unable to pull his eyes off of you once you’d said the first lyric; almost like he knew the song was about him.

“dude, she sounds like she’s about to cry.” sero shouted to todoroki over the loud music, but he didn’t hear them. how could he hear them?

when you were standing right there looking so breathtakingly talented and beautiful to him.

-

tags!:

@bakuettes @the-hangry-otter @ch3rryjampi3 @therealsatorugojo @twinnintwink @napbatata @redgie-69 @that-one-fangirl69 @kanvis @starlitrays @raendarkfaerie @pretty-sparkle-bomb @candiiee @mirophobic @altgojo @ita606 @djlance-rock @drxgonspine @simp4myself @your-mum3000 @ikissfade @kozuting @skzstan12345 @snoozebunz @themultifandomgirl @luvvvamy @coldnightshark @mrowwww @babylambdietcoke @nanaanatiion

[gracies-baby]

Money Test

(Gracie Abrams x Reader)

——————————————————————————

Y/n and Abby laugh as they walk through the mall only to be stopped when a man comes up to them with their phone pointed at them, obviously filming. The two girls sigh thinking that it's just a fan wanting to get close to Gracie only to be shocked by his question.

"Excuse me, do either of you have a partner?"

"Uh, yes.. I have a girlfriend. Do you need something?" Y/n replies as she raises an eyebrow at her girlfriend's cousin, the two of them sharing a confused look.

"If you can get her to send you some money right now, I'll give you $50" The man grins as he pulls a 50 dollar note out of his pocket. Y/n gives Abby a questioning look before the girl gives her an amused grin, telling her to do it.

"Yeah, sure" The girl pulls out her phone and dials her girlfriend's number. The phone rings two times before it's answered by Gracie.

"Hey babe, how's your little shopping trip?" Gracie asks with a smile.

"It's good.. but I found a purse that I really need.." Y/n speaks into the phone as she looks at Abby with a smirk.

"You need it huh? The last thing you needed was a pair of shoes that you only wore once" Gracie teases with a grin.

"It's called collecting, Gracie. Like you with your rocks" Y/n replies with an offended gasp.

"You're right, sorry. So, how much is the bag?" The brunette asks as she gets her bank app up.

"Uh, 2 grand" Y/n replies before she gets a notification telling her that five thousand dollars had been transferred to her account.

"There you go babe, now go treat yourself. And tell Abby I said fuck off" Gracie replies before her cousin lets out an offended gasp at her joke.

"Fuck you, although, you'd probably rather fuck-"

"Okay, thanks baby! I'll see you at home!" Y/n quickly hangs up the phone, shooting her friend a glare before remembering the man is still there.

"Is this enough?" Y/n asks, showing the man the amount of money that her girlfriend sent her. The man's eyes widen in shock as he hands her the 50 dollar note.

"Of course! Thank you so much for your participation" the man stutters before walking away.

"So, what bag are you gonna get?" Abby asks as the two of them continue walking through the mall.

"Hmm, maybe I won't get a bag" Y/n replies, staring at the shop next to them. Abby looks in the same direction before groaning when she sees the shop.

"You're disgusting. There's some things I don't need to know about my cousin" Abby sighs as she and her friend walk into the lingerie shop.

—

"Babe, I’m back!" Y/n yells when she enters the apartment she shares with her girlfriend.

"Hey, so, what's the bag look like?" Gracie asks after greeting her girlfriend with a kiss.

"Yeah, about that.. we might be trending on twitter right now" Y/n replies with a smile.

"What did you do?" Gracie asks with a soft smile.

"Nothing! This tiktoker came up to us and asked me if I had a girlfriend and- I'll just show you" Y/n pulls up her phone and shows the brunette the video.

"Wait.. so the entire internet has listened to Abby talk about me wanting to fuck you? My publicist is gonna kill me!" Gracie groans with embarrassment clear on her face.

"If it makes you feel any better, I got you a present" Y/n pulls the lingerie set out of her bag and holds it up against her body. Gracie's cheeks turn red as an excited smile appears on her face.

"Yeah. That definitely makes it better"

--

Comment Section

No way that guy just casually walked up Y/n L/n and Abby Waisler

Abby exposing Gracie is the best thing to ever happen

Gracie having a rock collection is the cutest thing ever!

[bullet-prooflove]

Here we go

26. You felt secure, that's called a home

Jimmy Lanik or Sam Abrams or Beau Simpson

I gotta say I would love some domestic fluff with any of them

sending the love girl

It’s after your deployment to Italy that Beau decides he wants you to move in with him. It’s quick, he knows, between his deployments and yours the two of you have actually been in each other’s presence for almost a year at this point.

You’re in the shower when he removes the key he had made for you from his jacket pocket and places it on your pillow. He’s come to think of the entire left hand side of the bed as your space, including the nightstand. He hasn’t kept anything in it for months.

When you leave the bathroom, he feels himself stirring all over again. He had you just over an hour ago and now he wants you all over again. It’s never been like this with another woman, he’s never wanted someone as badly as he wants you. You’re wearing his Navy t shirt and a pair of his boxer shorts, a towel in your hand as you dab at your hair.

“I don’t want you to leave.” He finds himself telling you.

“I’m not planning to.” You tease as you toss your towel into the hamper. “You’re water pressure is so much better than mine.”

It’s then that you see the key resting on your pillow case, it glints in the light from the lamp as you pick it up and hold it between your fingers.

“You mean it.” You say softly as you study it.

It’s a shock for you he can tell. Up until now you’ve been the one steering the ship. You were the first one to say you wanted more, to say I love you…

Beau had felt all of these things, he couldn’t bring himself to admit it, because he hadn’t dared to hope that you would feel the same. He’s spent his entire childhood at the hands of an unpredictable, violent man. His worthlessness had been beaten into him from an early age. He thought he’d overcome it once he joined the Navy and started raising through the ranks but it’s always there in the back of his mind. That was until this morning when he’d woken up and realised he didn’t want to spend another night apart from you. You’d both known the deployments would be tough but it’s different when you’re the one being left behind.

“Ally.” He says quietly. “I don’t want to keep this a secret anymore. I want people to know we’re together, I want…”

He trails off before looking down at his hands, the truth is he doesn’t just want more, he needs it. A woman had come onto him while you were away, he’d been polite but she had been persistent. The guys he’d been with didn’t see the problem. He was single, highly ranked, why not have a bit of fun?

He hadn’t told them about you, you’d asked him not to. You’ve worked so hard to get to where you are and you’re not ready to jeopardise that, not for something that feels like he has one foot out of. He doesn’t want to do that anymore, he wants people to know that you’re his partner, that he loves you more than life itself. That’s what tonight is bout, showing you how dedicated he is, that there’s stability here, a home if you want it.

“I want that too Beau.” You tell him, clutching the key tightly in your hand. “I want everyone to know how lucky I am.”

Love Beau? Get added to his tag list!

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[simonsrosebud]

ik I'm late to the party but omg.... abram boyd.... I'm sobbing that's so sweet 😭😭 pls tell me more about them

AHHH THANK YOU I LOVE HIM

Abram has certified protective big brother energy, but since he isn’t a big brother this goes to his girl friends at college instead. Palmetto is a safe campus, but he (and Elliot by association) still always end up getting their girl friends back to the dorms safely no matter what. I’m talking if two of their friends are fucked up before he even gets there he will leave the bar 10 minutes in just to get them home and then come BACK. (this is based on my sisters friend at lsu and it’s so wholesome)

Abram’s relationship with Neil is interesting bc he’s growing up as Neil is traveling in the pros in his late 20’s. However, Neil visits whenever it’s convenient and once he gets in the groove of this whole godfather thing he treats Abram like he’s his uncle bc he sees how Andrew is with Aaron’s girls. He keeps up with his schedule when he starts playing little leagues and makes Dan send pictures. She sends first day of school updates and a picture of a little Abram missing his two front teeth.

Abram gets a Josten Court jersey and wears it until it stinks. He gets new ones when he outgrows them. By his third one Matt gets him a huge one to grow into as a grown man. He does indeed grow into it.

Neil sends him post cards with a little letters written inside when he’s 4 and Abram loves it so much that Dan facetime’s Neil like 2 weeks after he got the first one but it’s just Abram’s face all up in the camera. “When will I get anover wetter, uncle Neil?” “Oh!” instant delight “It must still be in the mail, buddy, but just keep an eye on the mailbox, okay?” “Okay… do you wanna see your wetter?! I put it on my wall, uncle Neil!”

Neil is the first to start calling him B, firstly bc calling someone else Abram is something he has to get used to. Secondly because Abram acknowledges it as Neil’s nickname and stubbornly doesn’t let anyone else call him it.

Matt retires from exy at like 32 when Abram is 3. Matt’s exy team loyalties lie where his friends are at, so Matt, Jace, and Abram make it a thing to watch every game. Abram can’t keep track of Neil is and gets frustrated by it. Matt mentions it while laughing, two games later Neil has the butt of his stick wrapped in orange. After that Abram keeps saying, “Ope, there’s uncle Neil again …. There’s- I see orange, Daddy! …. There he goes again! …. Look! Uncle Neil!!”

Andrew may have been the one humanizing Neil, but Abram is the one who softens him.

Abram used to hold onto Addie or Annie’s hands and just follow them around at Fox reunions, which got more frequent throughout the years and is why/how the fox kids all got close.

Abram plays minecraft but just creative mode. He likes adventure or sports videogames while his brother likes Call of Duty and whatnot.

BIG lego kid until he’s like 14.

As a teenager, Abram and Neil text so much and talk on the phone a lot. About exy, about French help bc he’s learning it in school, about some fantasy show that Abram somehow got Neil into, about sports and college applications and when he can come visit again. And then about who these new kids in Neil’s house are and are they gonna stay a while? should we add them to the cousin gc? hey how’s elliot doing? and hey can you send me elliot’s number? and if i’m doing all this hard work to keep the strikers away the least our strikers could do is do something with the ball i keep getting to them, anyway, are you guys bringing blake and elliot to thanksgiving? i’m excited to meet them. and i know ur gonna be weird if i ask you about guys but im pretty sure i have a crush on one and im kinda freaking out and im scared to tell my parents and-

Matt is so loving when he comes out to him and Dan, hugging Abram really tight and just telling him he loves him and he’s so proud of him and Abram cries a little.

The first time he kisses a boy (bc crushes are only from afar) it’s freshman year of college and it’s because he starts looking at Elliot too often for too long and needs to get that shit out of his head bc that’s his best friend.

Abram has lunch with Dan like twice a month because she tries to stay out of his hair since she’s the exy coach at PSU.

When he and Elliot get together he finds he loves to wrap Elliot up in his clothes.

Elliot goes to all of his home games with their friends and cheers obnoxiously. Abram loves it. He also… fucks Elliot while he wears his soccer jersey.

He is definitely a gentle giant, but once he and Elliot get together he throws that boy AROUND in the bedroom.

there’s a lot more about him but i hope that’s good for tonight hehe

[venatusguyue]

my singer dr 🎸

me

my name is jules sasha houston, singer. born december 28, 2000, i’m 21 years old. stage name: jules sasha. i am a huge spider-man and marvel fan, i love building and playing with lego’s, i play almost every instrument, i love skateboarding and surfing, i play soccer with my brother and friends every week and i love cooking for everyone. i live in brookline, boston with my twin brother. our parents still live in oxford, england, but we cut them off.

my brother and friends

basically my friends are a bunch of oc’s who i met during my time at berklee college of music. they support me on tour as my band and later on we actually form a band with each other. my brother is joshua bassett, actor and singer. he doesn’t do hsmtmts in my dr, because it doesn’t fit my timeline and i actually haven’t scripted any acting work for him, but we’ll see. about two months after i shift i meet tucker pillsbury, aka role model. he becomes my best friend and we like to go sailing in his hometown in maine. i’m also friends with the sturniolo triplets. they’re my escape from music. anytime they’re in boston i’ll go to their place and we watch movies, play games, go on walks, literally anything but think about music. last but not least, walker scobell is my music video director and he helps me with ideas. i met him in a bookstore and after pjo he does film school in boston. he’s 19 in my dr.

my s/o

gracie abrams. born september 7, 1999, 21 years of age. i shift to her show from the tiwifl tour in boston. she’s a singer who just released her second project. we’ve met once on a livestream she did about her single ‘mess it up’. i’ve followed her journey since 2018. we meet at the show. i got let inside the venue early because the guards felt sorry for me queueing so long in the cold. i was also the only one queueing anyway. she does her closed soundcheck first, which i attend, and she invites me to also play a song for her once she finds out im a singer too. she ends up giving me a backstage pass and she stares into my soul a few times during the show. after the show we eat pizza on her tour bus. we get breakfast the next day and i attend her show the day after in new york. the day after that we go on a date. another week later i am once again at her show and i ask her to be my girlfriend after that. yippie!

picking a picture of her is so hard cuz she looks so goddamn pretty in every picture 😭. i’m gonna die she’s so beautiful. also the image limit prevented me from making it look cool and pretty, but whatever.

discography

i also scripted i write some of the songs i have also written in this reality, so those will be cursive.

me and you - single

one more ‘i love you’ - single

i want my friend back - single

what it’s like - album

hurting, your grandma’s house, birthday, surfer x skater, i’m fine, knowing, exist, me and you, the titanic, i want my friend back

move to the stars - single

understand - album

grateful, try, break my heart, wrong, never enough, how to love a friend, where did it go wrong in may?, magical, paralysed, the couch, the reason i hate you

letting me go free - ep

i might finally be free, i just wish someone would die, letting me go free

in between - ep with gracie

in between, perfect, you are in love (cover)

double s - ep with harry styles

christmas love, are you bored yet? (with gracie abrams), remember when

the way you say ‘i love you’ - album

i’ll still love you, yellow, be with you, love you right, till forever falls apart (with ashe), girl crush, love me back, my person, spring into summer, belong together

all my love (with jules sasha) - single by noah kahan

carry you home (with jules sasha) - single by alex warren

alive again - ep

always been you, heaven, tear in my heart, sucker, adventure of a lifetime, sunshine

i can’t get enough - ep

hold my hand, look after you, infinity, used to you, shivers

strawberries - ep

castle on the hill, you are the reason, photograph, life at first sight, kiss me

i have two more albums, but i’m still picking out songs for it/trying to write some more. i hope you liked this little thing. idk if i wrote too much, but whatever. let it happen.

[autisticempathydaemon]

I wanted to try this!

The song I am hyper fixated on at the moment

Right now it’s Mess It Up by Gracie Abrams. My favorite part is the outro, it just makes me ascend.

My Enneagram Type

I don’t know what mine is, but my personality type is INFP

Video Essays

I don’t really watch them, but one of my favorite videos is by Brittany Broski where she is flirting with ai.

My childhood friend

I don’t remember if I had one, but I remember creating a character with one of my friends and her name was jessie

My go-to way to fall asleep

I usually just put on an sleep aid audio (usually it’s the milo one)

If i had to change my name

I would change it to ella, because that’s what I was originally going to be named

My favorite audio

My favorite right now is “Resting on Your Tsundere Boyfriends Lap While He Games”

The redacted boy who holds no appeal to me

Ivan, I just don’t like yandere characters.

A tv show I know all the words to

Alexa and Katie on netflix. I watched that show so many times during 2020 and I can remember almost every detail about it.

The Redacted boy i’m platonically attracted to

To be honest i’m picking Porter. He sounds like he would be so much fun to just gossip with.

The go-to thing I ramble about when im tired

I usually just start talking about the most random things with no context

My go-to gas station drink

it’s either dr. pepper or one of the starbucks coffees that come in the glass bottles

my favorite playlist at the moment

it’s a playlist that consists of my favorite non taylor swift songs (I am a really big swiftie)

My guilty pleasure media

Right now it’s Call of Duty. I just got sucked in one day.

Extra Information

My zodiac sign is a leo and i like reading. (I would have said more but I really couldn’t think of anything else.)

Ooh, a Leo. A beloved friend of mine is a Leo, so I know they are characterized as unique, passionate, prone to strong feelings and instincts, the kind of person that would work well with Vincent Solaire.

To expand on that, I think you’d work well with him, because he has these characteristics as well. Vincent is canonically a little impulsive, intuitive, having seen Lovely (and by proxy, you) and taking action, throwing covert to the wind. Yet, he is also steadfast, faithful, and incredibly devoted once he falls, and he falls hard and fast. These similarities would build a beautiful relationship based on magnetic attraction into something loyal and immortal.

Speaking of, you two would have such a fun, immortal life- after all, he’s a vampire prince! Vincent strikes me as a Swiftie- he likes the fun vibes and all-out party of her new tour- so you know he gets y’all VIP tickets for your local Eras stop. There’s also quieter, less ostentatious moments, like you teaching him how to play Call of Duty (It came out after his turning so I don’t think he ever quite took to it till you.) or him asking you to read to him as he lays his head on your lap. Also, being immortal with Vincent means you’d get to gab and chatter with Porter for all time as unofficial family, so bonus.

Song:

I just wanna be your favorite (I just wanna be your favorite)/ Pretty boy (pretty boy)/ I get a rush when I make you blush/ So I got no choice (so I got no choice)/ I just wanna be your favorite (I just wanna be your favorite)/ Handsome man (handsome man)/ Big and strong, don't care how long/ Don't got no plan (don't got no plan)

This is a cutesy song that just screams Vincent Solaire! It’s flirty, but it’s also silly and goofy and fun just like him, you know? It makes me think of when that flirty, smooth, “little one” schtick is up, and all that’s left is that goofy dude who held Stranger’s hand in the Surge line and just now happens to be vampire royalty. Beyond the money and cars and clan, he’s just a dorky dude who wants to be your favorite.

Runner-Ups:

Asher, I like as a runner-up because it’d be really fun to imagine you two have a little CoD versus Halo feud over which game is the best. Also, he strikes me as a good match for a Leo. Geordi, however, is a runner-up just because, of all the Redacted bois, he’s the one who I feel is most likely to be a Swiftie with you!

note: thank you so much for waiting; I hope you enjoyed your match-up~

Read this post and send me an ask if you’d like a match-up of your own! 💌

[grungelevi]

nightmare: “could you hold me without any talking?”

oneshot . requests are open ! not. thoroughly error checked

mentions of: panic attacks, wounds, death. (just your usual fluff ofc)

Quietly stacking up the final file on the stack on his table, Levi got up from his seat and stretched. His eyes landed on your figure, passed out on his bed, your hands clenching the blanket. He had brought his work to the little desk in his room so he could accompany you in some way as you slept.

Today had been rough for you. The expedition not only went completely off the rails and resulted in a lot of deaths, you were on the front lines and had to witness all of it. You hadn’t spoken about it with Levi, and he didn’t push you either. He knew you were shaken up and wanted to give you as much time and space you needed before you eventually wanted to talk about it.

He would have stayed in bed with you but he had to go through the paperwork of all the causalities and letters to the families. The man watched you for a second, slightly concerned by your frequent tossing and turning. Levi decided to brew some tea and come back to check on you.

The kettle was set and he entered his quarters where you resided for the time being.

“no” you muttered in your sleep. you repeated, but this time shook your head and shifted. your fists were changing colour by how tight you had grasped the sheets. It was only when Levi moved closer he realised you were sweating.

you were having a nightmare. and just when Levi realised that, you shot up sitting, out of breath and blinking rapidly. Your boyfriend’s instincts kicked in and he leaped over to you and sat by your feet. His hands immediately finding its way to yours. Thought, still not fully in your senses you attempted to push Levi back.

“no-stop stop” you cried, shutting your eyes closed tightly. “hey hey it’s me. It’s Levi, you’re okay-“ he let you pull your arms back and out of his grip. your palms cuffed your eyes and your elbows rested on your lap. Your breathing had paced up and it was difficult for you to make sense of what had occurred.

You weren’t one for nightmares. Unlike Levi, you rarely got nightmares but when you did they were bad. they always had a heavy impact on you but unlike all the previous times, this time you had someone with you.

“-it was just a bad dream, it’s over i promise.” he continued, knowing well of the signs of a nightmare. The tossing turning, sweating, yells and shivering. He just wanted you to look at him so he could somehow just make you feel better. it ached his heart to see you like that.

Your arms dropped down and your head shot up almost immediately. There were tears in your eyes, from the visions of the dream staying in your head. “y-you died. you died and-and i couldn’t move and..” you were forced to pause because your throat was suddenly dry and you couldn’t make up more syllables.

Levi’s eyes widened in concern, he spoke your name in a whisper “i’m here” his hands went back to yours. normally physical affection was a huge comfort to you. It was one of the things Levi absolutely hated when he first met you. How you always hugged people when greeting them, if you were close you would place your hands somewhere and always ruffle their hair. It grew to be one of the things Levi admired about you. Though he was uncomfortable at the beginning of your relationship, he surrendered when he realised how just holding your hand was able to make her the happiest person in the room.

Panic set into you again at the touch of his cold hands. “no, no! you got shot and i couldn’t do anything about it, nothing.” You breathing got faster once again.

“my love i’m alright it wasn’t real” he tried to calm you down, interlocking his fingers with yours as tears fell down your rosy cheeks. All you did was shake your head still in disbelief. he realised it wasn’t helping so he opted for a new strategy, “where did i get shot?”

you looked back up at him as your breath shuddered. Your hand went upto the right side of his chest but as soon as you made contact you flinched and pulled your hand away.

okay okay, Levi thought. He let got of your hands and quickly pulled his shirt off, disposing it off somewhere to his left. He grabbed your shaking hand and placed it on the same spot you had before. This time keep his hand on top of yours, as he roamed it around.

“see, nothing. i’m fine you- you’re fine”

You didn’t know what to say, you just looked dumbfounded. He pulled your hands back and let you look at the area just so you were sure.

“i..i don’t get it you laid there and-“

he brought the hands back to its previous position and dragged them across to his heart. He had shifted closer, keeping your other hand which was closed in fist, in his own hand. He attempted to get as close as he could, trying not to startle you.

“ssh” he cut you off and put pressure on the hand that had yours against his heart. Your hand pushed onto it, probably leaving a temporary imprint on their.

You winced and cracked another sob. With his right hand, he let go of the hand on your lap and carefully wiped your tears with his thumb. “listen. feel it. i’m alive.” You had considerably calmed down again, but your breathing stayed the same. Though Levi’s chest pumping in and out due to his breathing, helped you fix your own’s rhythm. You didn’t realise when but you had leaned forward and he took that as a chance to let your foreheads rest on one another.

You breathed out of your mouth and Levi followed. You weren’t sure how you would have reacted if Levi hadn’t calmed you down, again. The two of you closed your eyes.

“you’re okay. i’m right here.” he kept muttering to you, as reassurance. you stayed like that for two minutes, calming down with your breathing in sync, until a loud sound caused you startle. your eyes widened and you could feel the feeling come back into your stomach. you had flinched and moved back but Levi followed you. He gripped your hands tighter even though both of them had now fallen. He moved his upper body closer, and spoke right when your breathing got heavy again.

“it’s just the kettle darling. nothing is wrong. i’m not leaving you” the last part having a bit of desperation and promise in it. He leaned forward and placed a deep and firm kiss on the top of your forehead.

you finally realised the whistling and relaxed again.

The whistling hadn’t stopped after a couple of seconds, and Levi got up. You immediately shook your head. Before you could utter a word, he spoke, “I’m not going without you, don’t worry.”

He helped you stand up and now with one hand holding yours, he led you to the kitchen portion. You had wrapped your other arm around his bicep, clutching onto it for dear life. He let go of you to turn the stove off. By now you had collected most of yourself and folded your arms.

Levi brought his hands to your face and wiped away and fresh new set of tears. “i’m sorry” you whispered and Levi froze. “you have nothing to apologise for Y/N.” He kissed the middle of your forehead, “nothing”

he then kissed right under your right eye, where your eye bags lied. “you.” he repeated the same action on the left side, his hands still cupping both sides of your face as yours grazed his forearm. “are.”

His lips the moved to your right cheek, moving his hand lower. “safe.”

he then kissed the left side, tasting the dried salty teardrops. “i promise.” you leaned into his grip

Your eyes hadn’t left his. You placed your hand on the right side of his bare chest, and glanced at it. “can you just.. hold me-“

you weren’t given the opportunity to say please as Levi pulled you into his arms. one of his hands finding your lower back and rubbing circles on them. the other at the back of your head.

your hands were encircled around him and your face was buried in the crook of his chest. You began to cry a bit more. Flashes from the dream kept coming back to you.

How Levi laid infront of you lifeless, with one hand reaching out for you while you were unable to do anything. his blood all over your hands. Your fallen comrades from today laying nearby as well.

“please don’t leave me” you whimpered and hugged him tighter. in response he held you even tighter, as if he wasn’t letting you go anywhere

“never.”

you just stayed in his arms the entire night. you stayed while he gave you his tea to help you relax. you stayed while he laid down on the couch with you, as you cuddled and he tried to distract you. you stayed when you fell asleep at 5am and he carried you to his our bed.

“i’ll be here when you wake up” , “i’ve got you” “i love you.” just some things he said to you while you were unable to speak back.

all the time you were able to feel him, touch him and feel his heartbeat. His constant kisses on all around your face, on your hands and lips giving you a constant reminder that he was here alive and breathing. you hadn’t lost him today and he assured you wouldn’t tomorrow, or the day after that and the day after that up until you were an old retired married couple.

You were at your weakest that night, even as Section commander the fright you witnessed today couldn’t have been avoided. but he was there. and you were eternally grateful when you woke up in the morning. Levi Ackerman is by your side holding your waist tightly, entangling himself with you. you made sure to let him know how much he helped and what he meant to you that day. but for then when your eyes fluttered open to meet his beautiful face; He was wide awake and it was well past breakfast. but he stayed. he didn’t leave you for a second just like he promised.

he stayed.

he stayed with you until your last dying breath, years later when it was you on the battlefield, shot on the right side of your chest, with your hand reaching out to your then husband. because he was the one who promised to stay, not the other way around. not you.

[venturismcdonald]

"I miss you, I'm sorry" by Gracie Abrams is so Dasey, a complete analysis (inspired by @filmmakerdreamst having it on their playlist for Dasey.) It's canon compliant angsty goodness. And fuck it, I'm making it Derek's point of view for shits and giggles.

I had so much fun doing this, please request other songs for me to do because these are a blast.

Do you remember happy together? I do, don't you? Casey gets engaged a few months after he leaves and Derek is fucking destroyed. They were happy. He knows he ruined it but still, fuck, he didn't think she'd fall in love so quickly. Were they just fake? He must've just been a rebellion, just like he worried. The perfect keener princess's one spot of rebellion, it didn't mean anything to her.

Then all of a sudden, you're sick to your stomach. Is that still true? She might've not been the one to run away, but to say Casey was completely innocent in their dissolution would be a lie. It wasn't because she was anxious, it's because she met Simon and threw up because they'd gotten the call he was being born while making out. Is she still pretending nothing happened?

You said "forever," in the end I fought it. Derek ran. He fought it just as hard as she did, if not harder, for years, but the concept of a long term relationship with a girl who wouldn't even hold his fucking hand when they were home... Yeah, he fought that. It broke his heart in ways that probably can't be healed (which is so stupid. Because Casey obviously doesn't give a fuck. He was just her rebellion and freshman mistake) because they were on the precipice of labeling what they were when he ran away.

Please be honest, are we better for it? Despite popular opinion, Derek isn't a complete idiot. He knows he was worse for running away at first, knew it the moment he boarded the plane. But he might be better too. Without running away, they never would've had the kids. Still, his stupid heart worries he's wrong. That it was the biggest mistake of his life.

Thought you'd hate me, but instead you called. The expected outcome was for Casey to fucking hate him and never speak to Derek again. Instead of that, she was the first to initiate contact after he left with just a note to her.

And said, "I miss you." I caught it. She missed him. What a fucking thought, that the girl who Derek loved so much it was a physical pain in his chest. And now here she is, confessing (in a whisper so quiet Derek would've missed it was he not a pathetic shell of a pining man) that she misses him.

Good to each other, give it the summer. They agreed: wait the summer out to see each other in person. It would allow any remaining feelings to go away.

I knew, you too. Better than anyone else on the planet, Derek knows Casey. And she knows him in the same way.

But I only saw you once in December. Christmas became the only time they saw each other. And even then, with the kids and careers and Derek touring, Christmas wasn't always when they'd see each other. They just didn't. It sucked but they didn't see each other.

I'm still confused. It's been over a decade since their moment. But Jesus, Derek still can't still screw his head on around her. He still has so many questions about their Kingston days and his own feelings, but especially Casey's.

You said "forever" and I almost bought it. If Casey wouldn't panic every time Simon was brought up, every time someone even mentioned their siblings, he would've bought that she believed in a future for them. One with labels and a defined relationship. But he was smart and knew she was an inch from running away if he didn't.

I miss fighting in your old apartment. Fighting about absolutely anything was a rush. Casey... Fighting her is wired to turn him on, alright? So yeah, of course he misses fighting her. Anywhere. But in college, in her shitty dorm, fights could end in such fun ways.

Breaking dishes when you're disappointed. Did she ever actually break a dish? No, Casey thought that was a waste of money. They came pretty damn close doing the dishes at George and Nora's a few times when he'd do something particularly annoying and instead of doing the flush bright pink all the way down to her toes thing, she'd just get quiet.

I still love you, I promise. With every single woman in London, so many random one night stands to try and get over her, none worked. Derek Venturi has been in love with Casey McDonald for what's probably a pathetic amount of time.

Nothing happened in the way I wanted. Sometimes, when Sky's with her mom for the weekend and he's out with the boys, Derek will think back to his stupid teenage fantasies. A life, kids with Casey, getting her to split his name once a day and always, always making her smile. That's what he wanted. Not this weird friendship where there are so many things they don't talk about (Kingston and Peter, mainly) and there's an ocean between them.

Every corner of this house is haunted. Part of why Derek visits home so rarely is that every inch of George and Nora's has a memory with Casey, she's fucking everywhere. Like a... Evil ghost or something. Whatever it is, she is responsible and evil. And now she took over their new house! And he's living in her goddamn guest house and really, Derek should stop calling places home if he doesn't want them to be haunted by Casey.

And I know you said that we're not talking. Not in so many words, but there were a couple of years there where they just didn't talk. He got it; Casey has responsibilities and was in law school while raising a toddler and dealing with a neglectful husband but still. It hurt.

But I miss you, I'm sorry. Even when she's just a few dozen yards away, Derek misses Casey like a hole in the head. And heart.

I don't wanna go, think I'll make it worse. Once they're reunited at George and Nora's, Derek knows leaving means going to a life knowing Casey's drowning and that's the last thing he wants. Staying is for her benefit as much as it is his own.

Everything I know brings me back to us. Music equals Casey, hockey equals Casey in his jersey (a dangerous thought), for fuck's sake, having a kid equals Casey. Everything is Casey, somehow. It's disgusting. He kinda loves it.

I don't wanna go, we've been here before. Because really, they've been together. He doesn't want to leave because he's had this gut feeling him and Casey are on the edge of something before. This is his chance to not fuck it up.

Everywhere I go leads me back to you. For god's sake, he went to Paris to get away from her and it didn't work. Casey is what the Derek Venturi compass always points to and he is simply a man. Who is he to deny destiny or whatever the fuck it is that has his heart practically labeled with her name?

[neilljcsten]

Andrew waits in the lobby, holding his medically issued “don’t kill yourself where we’d be held response” clothing in a garbage bag. If he was still on the drugs, he’d probably make a joke about going back to his foster kid roots with that fucking smile on his face.

Instead, he steadies himself with the feeling of a relaxed face, of a mouth able to stay neutral rather than pulling him apart.

He watches his car pull in and wonders why Neil’s driving looks so much like Nicky’s. Maybe he was a pipe dream, a hallucination from the drugs, his mind whispers at him, the voice sounding too much like Proust for his own liking.

Once the car is parked, Andrew signs himself out - leaving with as much fanfare as he arrived with - and goes to face his family.

He looks to Aaron first and finds his mirror searching him. Looking him up and down for some sign that Andrew had come back different - like maybe now he’d be the brother he always wanted. Andrew lets a small snort slip “better luck next time brother”, he thinks. He slides his gaze to Kevin, notes the tension in his frame, marking it for later. Nicky has already started talking, yammering on about the holidays as if his voice alone can fill the growing chasm between the twins.

Andrew holds his hands out for the keys and gets in the car without saying anything. When Nicky tries to ask about his stay at Easthaven, he turns the radio up to drown him out.

The drive helps settle him. The familiar feel of the wheel under his hands, the turns of the highway, the thumping bass. They all help him come back to himself in little ways; he drove before the meds and he will drive after. He thinks, absently, that Bee would be proud of that realization.

When they reach Abby’s house - the tower is still closed for the break - he tells everyone but Kevin to get out. The striker hasn’t relaxed since Andrew got in the car and he needs to know why. Did Neil not hold up his end of the deal? Did he finally run? Was Abram just another lie, given to placate Andrew into getting treatment?

“Where is he”, he grits out, not facing Kevin.

“Visiting his family, Neil said -“

“Wrong. Try again. We both know the Foxes are all he has”

Kevin lets out a shudder then, hands shaking as he turns to face Andrew.

“He went to Evermore. Riko caught him at the banquet and”

Whatever Kevin was about to say died on his lips as he saw Wymack’s truck roaring down the road towards Abby’s. The truck is barely parked before Wymack is out of the car, heading to the passenger seat.

Andrew gets a sinking feeling and before he can even recognize it for what it is, he’s out of the car. He sidesteps Wymack, ducking under his arm, and pulls open the passenger door.

He’s real, is his first thought, but it’s quickly replaced by the growing anger as he takes stock of Neil’s bandages and swollen features. Somehow, he knows what’s under the man’s clothing, will be worse.

“Andrew” Wymack starts, “I need to get him inside”

“Wait” Andrew replies, as Neil opens his eyes - his blue eyes, contacts gone. Later, Andrew will notice the red hair and wonder how he missed it.

“Andrew,” Neil croaks out, his voice hoarse.

“Were you keeping your deal? Or breaking it?” Andrew hisses, his anger slowly building up, at war with the burning fear in his chest as he’s able to see more and more injuries.

Blue eyes stare into him, unblinking and sure.“Both. Kevin was safe and someone needed to watch your back.”

Andrew feels his world tilt on its axis. He doesn’t know what Riko told Neil or what Neil thought he accomplished, but the words struck him to the core. He stares at Neil, not speaking as he processes.

“I need Drew, - I need to get inside. I pulled my stitches getting off the plane”

Andrew finally tears his gaze away from Neil’s eyes so Neil can see his movements - he knows unwelcome contact is a sore spot for both of them. He holds his arms out to help the striker out of the truck - “yes or no, Abram?”

“Yes” Neil sighs out, body going limp as he leans into the goalie.

The full situation will hit Andrew later and he’s smart enough to know a talk or two (or many) with Bee are in his future. As he carries Neil inside, ignoring the voices of concern around them, Andrew knows one thing.

This was not a side effect of the drugs.

Saw this and immediately went insane. Anybody seen a fic like this 😳

[indig0trollsinspo]

alright kings queens and monarchs buckle up this is gonna be a lot

under cut for dashboards sake

We'll start with Muiren Neille, formally (or rather formerly) known as Reverend General Revival.

Status: Alive

Was once a high priest in a little known cult of the messiahs that mostly aided with military endeavors. Earned his title by using his voodoos to raise undead armies to combat alien and rebel forces. Specialized with control over undead jades. Retired under mysterious circumstances, rumor says he became paranoid over possession and this drove him to madness, and he retired in isolation.

Next up we have the Hedonist!

Status: Alive?

A rather reviled brownblood with the unique ability to heal himself of even mortal injuries, at the expense of those around him. Most famous for his repeated run-ins with Revival which resulted in the deaths of several members of Revival's court. As far as anyone knows, he is still alive, maintaining his youth by making his aging... someone else's problem (: Live life to the fullest!

General Calamity

Status: Alive

Outside of a very small circle of fleet officials, very little is known about Calamity, but it's common knowledge that he has one of the highest personnel death rates in the entire history of the fleet. Rumor has it that he is extremely prone to violent fits of rage, and this is the main cause of his turnover. Higher ups often use his ship as a sort of disposal for particularly problematic fleet recruits/personnel, as it's not a matter of if they'll die at his hands, but when.

Fleet recruits will likely hear his name and shudder, and assignment to his ship is often tossed around as a threat to get them to toe the line.

General Iolaas Dechar, formally known as The Redeemer.

Status: Alive

Most often associated by fleet outsiders to his failed relationship with the infamous Renegade, who broke his heart by running off to try and destroy the empire and then died rather spectacularly as a result.

Earned his title by having a rather high success rate of reprogramming rebellious fleet personnel and making honest soldiers out of them. He often does his best to redirect trolls bound for Calamity to his ship to give them their best last chance.

The Bookkeeper, Darmun Caeron

Status: Deceased

Though a very peace-loving man, Bookkeeper lived during a time of great turmoil over the empire's treatment of lowbloods and mutants, before the extinction of limes. He would often use his cavernous home in the mountains to aid rebels and refugees, either housing them or using the tunnels to move them elsewhere. He was later betrayed by his then-matesprit and very publically executed for his part in crimes against the empire.

The Governess, Lesara Drazur

Status: Undead

A respected member of the communities jadeblood caverns. She rarely stays in one cavern, often moving between them over the sweeps as she "bores" of their respective politics. Rumor has it that her seadweller ex lover had her killed and she took swift retribution before finally making her way to the caverns to fulfill her duties. She travels with a very small jadeblood by her side. Perhaps a pupil?

The Courier, Ebrien Geidig

He doesn't do a whole lot but he's one of those guys that just seems to know everyone personally, you know? You can imagine how he earned his title though.

The Baroness, Barona Abrams

Status - Alive

A violet-fuchsia cusp who's made her name by training heiresses on the finer points of politics and throne seeking. She will not train men for the throne as she believes it isn't their place, though she does on occasion hold etiquette courses so that they may not make a fool of themselves in front of their ruling parties. (:

[No art here sorry <3]

THE ARCHIVIST - NAME UNKNOWN

Status: Unknown

A mysterious man whose name is long since lost to time, since he does not use it. Historically known for his extensive record of the lifespans of all the titled ancestors of his time and then some. Disappeared without a trace, though every once in a while he is mentioned by title in some strange corner of alternia.

[aftgandotherbooks]

First time Neil cries in front of the foxes- Nicky

TW- Mention of blood (Only a small drop of it though)

Nicky, unfortunately, has a bad habit of listening in on conversations in the car when he hasn’t been involved.

After overhearing Andrew and Neil’s conversation on how deprived Neil is on the best type of desserts, Nicky jumped in with a gasp, “you’ve never had cheesecake? Have you even seen a cake in your life? Have you ever even baked anything?” In which Neil responded with “no? I’ve never baked before”.

After having to remove himself from the conversation before he got too high pitched and heated, Nicky decided that it will be his lifelong mission to teach Neil to bake every existing sweet dish (within reason).

Thus, every time Nicky went grocery shopping, he bought ingredients for a new dessert each time.

They’ve made so many dishes, even some of Nicky’s favourite German desserts because it reminded him of Erik.

On the day Nicky first witnessed Neil cry, it started out innocent, and dare say even fun. Nicky and Neil were baking choc chip cookies to cheer up Andrew who was still recovering from a concussion.

Nicky was chopping up a slab of chocolate into smaller pieces with a knife because it’s so much cheaper than buying a packet of chocolate chips.

Because Neil was still quite new to the whole ‘baking’ thing, Nicky had to check on Neil every few minutes to make sure Neil wasn’t somehow lighting the kitchen on fire (“it happened once Nicky, and it was mostly Kevin’s fault!”)

He looked up to where Neil was kneading the dough (“fold it in from the sides Neil! It’s not a piece of hot ass, you don’t need to slap it!”) and saw that Neil was digging his fingers into the dough, instead of using the heels of his hands.

So, Nicky (knife still in his hand) stepped behind Neil and without thinking, grabbed the hand still in the dough to try and adjust it to how he should be doing it.

In an instant, Nicky swore it only took less than a second, Neil grabbed the knife from Nicky’s hand and held it to Nicky’s neck.

Nicky quickly breathed in, and tried to stay still as possible.

Nicky was used to Andrew threatening him with a knife, but he always knew Andrew would never really hurt him. However, this time, Neil’s eyes didn’t hold a blank type of anger (or pure joy from his manic times) that Andrew’s eyes held. Instead, Neil’s eyes held fear.

It was like Neil wasn’t even in his body anymore, the real Neil had floated away when he felt threatened by the unpredicted touch, and the sight of a knife.

The Neil that was holding the knife too hard to Nicky’s neck was glazed over, and so so afraid.

Nicky tried calling his name, even using “Abram”, which Nicky heard Andrew use a few times when Neil’s anxiety hit peak, to bring him back.

But it didn’t work.

Neil’s hand eventually started shaking, and due to the movement of his hand and the heavy pressure of the knife to Nicky’s neck, a small cut opened when the knife met skin.

It was the sight of the deep red blood pooling at the top of the knife and dripping down Nicky’s neck that bought Neil back with a startled jump backwards into the bench where the long-forgotten cookie dough sat.

“Nicky” Neil breathed, repeating the name as if reminding him that it was Nicky standing in front of Neil, and not his father.

Nicky took a step closer to Neil, but Neil shook his head and moved to the side and stepped back more, away from Nicky.

“Neil it’s okay. I’m okay. It’s just a small cut” Nicky gently said, hands out and keeping his voice calm in attempt to soothe Neil’s panic.

Neil shook his head again.

What stopped and broke Nicky’s heart more than the knife that was held to his neck a minute ago were the tears building up in Neil’s eyes.

Nicky is not afraid of emotion. He refuses to hide who he is and what he feels after living through what his parents put him through. Eric has taught him many things, one of which is that it’s okay to cry, even especially if you’re a man. Emotions are a part of the human condition, and to hell with anyone who claims that men aren’t meant to cry. So seeing Neil in such a state of panic and fear and guilt broke Nicky’s heart. From what he knew about Neil’s shit excuses of parents, he gathered that they most likely punished Neil badly if he showed any kind of emotion or ‘weakness’.

So, seeing Neil crying, Nicky slowly stepped closer to Neil.

This time, Neil allowed it, but he started crying harder.

With his arms still held out, Nicky slowly took the knife out of Neil’s hand, put it on the counter next to him and then turned back and asked “can I hug you Neil?”.

After the incident at Eden’s the first time Neil went with the group, and Nicky non-consensually kissed a drugged Neil, Nicky felt so much guilt, regret and self-hatred. He swore to himself to make sure he has to try harder in getting consent before making a move on anyone.

Today, he forgot to do so- hence knife incident.

When Neil nodded his head, and muttered a weak “yes”, Nicky hugged him.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry Nicky, I didn’t mean it. I wasn’t fully there. The knife... I... it…” Neil then sobbed into Nicky’s shoulder. “No Neil, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just touched you, especially with a knife in my hand. I should have known better” Nicky says, apologetically.

Nicky stroked his back in a soothing manner, saying “shhh, it’s okay, I’m okay”. After a few minutes of hugging, the two broke apart, and Nicky, went back to his usual happy self (he was obviously still upset, shocked and sad, but he wanted to move past the intense moment and get Neil back to a calm and happy place) and said “okay! Let get back to it. Let me quickly clean my neck and wash my hands, and then I’ll show you how to knead dough with your hands, not your fingers you imbecile.”

And that’s how Andrew ended up with a box of choc chip cookies on his bed when he got home from an early session with Betsy.