#kylie writes

[ofstoriesandstardust]

note: i'm currently not writing and taking some much needed time away from tumblr but i found this in my drafts while working on some grad school applications and decided i couldn't gatekeep it any longer

cw: angst, insecurities, polyamory relationship (bradley x jake x reader), unedited

in-ter-lude

noun

“an intervening period of time”

The bed is cold. 

It’s the first thing he notices as the grey morning light bleeds through the blinds. He groans, turning over in the bed as he blindly reaches out to find you. 

His hand just meets colder sheets, a hint of warmth emanating from Bradley if he reaches a little bit farther. 

The cold sheets don’t surprise him, even as he sits up in the bed, blinking at Bradley’s sleeping figure. Bradley’s out, dead to the world, sleeping like a rock, per usual. 

Jake slips out from the cold covers, lacking your usual warmth. The coldness doesn’t phase him, not anymore. 

Most days they found you up long before the sun, pacing the kitchen, or nursing a cup of cold coffee at the kitchen table, or tucked under the sheer blanket tossed on the couch for decoration. The bed so often lacked your usual warmth, but so did you, the light dimming in your eyes as you retreated further and further into yourself as the days went by. 

It concerned him, the way you were slipping through his fingers like smoke as the days went by, something he could never quite catch, no matter how hard he tried. 

Getting stationed at Miramar should’ve brought you all closer together, not driven you further apart. 

Jake shivers, stopping by the thermostat to turn on the heat as he winces at the cold hardwood of Bradley’s home against his bare feet. 

He really hopes you had half a mind to grab one of their sweatshirts or sweatpants before disappearing down here this morning. He hopes you’ve grabbed one of the thicker blankets from the coat closet by the front door that they keep for movie nights. He hopes you’ve made yourself a cup of warm tea like you used to instead of letting your coffee go cold. 

The sight of you not at the couch doesn’t surprise him, nor does the empty kitchen. It’s the sight of both of them void of life that does. 

He peeks his head out the kitchen window, wondering if perhaps you’ve migrated outside. 

It’s the driveway that’s one car emptier than usual that makes his gut turn, concern and panic alighting in his stomach. 

“Bradley!”

-

You aren’t really sure when things began to feel off.

Well, that’s not entirely true. 

You knew exactly when the seed had been planted. 

It had been early on, the relationship still new as the three of you fumbled and stumbled in explaining the dynamic to others, especially those who had known Bradley and Jake when it had just been Bradley and Jake. 

A night out at the Hard Deck was meant to be a fun, a happy conclusion to a rather long week. 

“One might say you’re nothing but a bed warmer for Bradshaw while Seresin’s gone.” The pilot had said.

The consideration you’d given the words had been fleeting at the time, Bradley pulling you into a dizzying kiss that had you forgetting the words as quickly as the man had said them. 

But the words had remained tucked aside and revealing themselves over time, targeting your worst fears. 

That one day your boys would realize they didn’t want to be yours anymore, that this interlude in their relationship had been nothing more than a fun experiment, a phase in their lives before they settled down for more. 

And it was selfish of you to stay when you knew that you were someone who was there in the times when Jake couldn’t be, that you were only filling a gap that would no longer need to be filled once Jake decided to remain on the ground for good. 

It wasn’t fair to you. Or them, either really. Letting them live in this false reality where you were the perfect match. 

You loved them. You did.

But sometimes you thought they loved the idea more than they ever really loved you. 

-

You hadn’t been expecting the day to come so soon.

You knew that it would come eventually, that one day you would no longer be able to run from what you had known for months, that every day you spent loving them and every night you spent in between them was a blessing. 

It wasn’t something you took for granted, became something you treasured the longer time went on as you knew you were getting closer and closer to the end. 

You had just been, foolishly, hoping for more time.

Time, a fickle thing.

Jake hums into your bare shoulder as his fingers trace nonsensical patterns into your shoulder. Distantly, you both can hear Bradley clattering around in the kitchen as he attempts to make you all a belated breakfast after spending the morning in bed. 

Jake would be leaving in the morning for a new deployment and there was only so much time to engrain every curve of Jake’s body into your memory before you would go without it for three months. 

“I can hear you thinking from here.” You tease and you feel the curve of Jake’s mouth move upwards against your skin. 

“I was just wondering…” He trails off, pressing a kiss to the skin. “How would you feel if this was the last deployment?”

Your stomach sinks, even as your desperately try to hold on to the rapidly fraying threads of hope that the day you’ve dreaded isn’t finally upon you. 

“What do you mean?” You ask in a whispered voice, thankful you’re faced away from the man. 

“I’m taking a permanent position at Miramar with Bradley. Looks like I’m going to be stateside for a while.”

You swallow, feeling your blood run ice cold at the words. 

Three months. You had three months, maybe four, with them as yours. And then… and then they would remember why they didn’t have a third before you. You would have served your purpose. You would no longer be needed and they would be kind to you about it, not so callous and cruel as to toss you out, but it would be clear that your paths were diverging.

You’ve taken too long to respond to Jake and he must be nervous about your reaction because you can feel the slight tremble of his fingers against your skin as they resume their patterns. 

“Whatever makes you happiest, honey. I’ll be right here.”

-

Bradley’s biggest insecurity is one he’ll never say out loud, too afraid of breathing life into the fears. 

He sees the way you are with Jake, how soft you are with him, the warmth Jake only seems to bring out of you. 

He often wonders if that softness is better suited to what Jake needs, that one day Jake will realize he needs soft more than he needs push-and-pull, you need Jake more than you need Bradley. 

Jake’s only been gone for two weeks when you begin to pull away. 

Bradley notices, because of course he does. He notices everything he can about you, because he knows that to be known is to be loved and that all you’ve ever wanted is to be known by someone. 

He notices, because you roll over away from him in bed, not wanting to stay up and talk to him. He notices, because you don’t stay long enough to shower with him before work in the morning. He notices, because you’ve gone back to wearing your own sweatshirts instead of theirs. He notices, because you spend less nights at theirs than you used to, creating a house filled with ghosts. 

And he wishes he could say that he knew you were just missing Jake. 

But he knew what missing Jake looked like. When you missed Jake, you pulled in closer to Bradley, seeking out his stability, the consistent reassurance that he would always be there that the job at Top Gun offered. 

This went deeper than that. 

And Bradley couldn’t help but turn in, wondering what it was he had done to make the change in you. 

-

In some ways, you thought it would be easier this way. To say goodbye to them before you were forced to. To prepare yourself for the break, to try to learn how to live without them before they made that decision for you. 

In many ways, it was harder. 

You craved Bradley’s touch, hated the ache in your soul every time you got further away when he tried to get closer. 

You couldn’t remember the last time the two of you had had dinner together, basking in the warmth of each other’s company as you danced around the kitchen, fingers sticky from pasta sauce as you inevitably abandoned the food to make out against the stove. 

You miss the twinkly in Bradley’s eyes, his mussed hair, the way his cheeks colored red enough to matching the lingering marinara. 

You can’t remember the last time the two of you hunkered down on a Saturday to work together, eventually only completing a fraction of what needed to be done as the two of you came up with every excuse to not do the essays and homework assignments and lesson plans. 

Jake had always been the one to keep you both on task, anyways. 

You missed Bradley, craved for him in the same way you did Jake while he was deployed. 

But yet, this was different. Because Bradley was right there, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to cross the line you had drawn and go to him. 

I’m telling you Jake. She’s been different since you’ve been gone. 

“How’s school?” 

You raise your head, catching Jake watching you from the other end of the couch. He’s got  nervous smile on his face, the fingers clutching the neck of his beer bottle a bit too tightly being the dead give away to his concern. You stare at him, almost wondering if there’s someone else he’d be asking. 

There isn’t, only you and Jake in the room. You can hear Bradley in the kitchen, rattling off the takeout order for the local Chinese place down the street from the boys house. It’s your favorite, though you know Jake’d much rather be having burgers for his first night back. 

“How’s school going? You’re almost finished with your thesis, right?” 

Jake knows the answer, that you’re two months and a final defense away from completing your degree. 

You also know he’s trying to make conversation, trying to push around and see if he can't figure out what’s been bugging you without ever really asking. Find out why, according to Bradley, you’ve been off.

You shrug, looking away from Jake’s sea-glass eyes that can always read you too well. 

You hear Jake shift on the couch when Bradley hangs up the phone, leaving the kitchen. “Chinese should be here in about thirty minutes. What Real Housewives franchise did we decide on?”

-

He can hear Bradley groan as he takes the stairs two at a time, heart beating through his chest. 

You’ve never left on Sundays. 

Sundays were your day together. 

Like clockwork, the three of you would have a slow morning in bed. You always bemoan the fact that the boys couldn’t keep their hands to themselves, but they knew that you secretly loved the way they actually had time to savor your body in the way they felt it should be. 

You’d all have breakfast together, hanging out on the couch in a tangle of limbs as you watched cartoons. It was Bradley’s idea, the first time you had done it, the child at heart that he is. 

Then Jake and Bradley would go for a run. You’d do the laundry and tidy the house from the week. Get it ready for the next. 

And then the boys would come home, all sweaty and gross and give you kisses on your cheek as you cringed and complained that they smelled. 

They knew you loved it anyways. Loved them anyways. 

After coaxing you into the shower with them through all your reluctance and hesitation, they’d take a thoroughly delightful detour before Jake would make you all lunch. 

Maybe in the afternoon, you’d all try to bake a new pastry, or watch one of the sports games on television, or take naps in the sun on the couch. 

And then you’d get takeout from somewhere, soaking up the last few hours of one another’s company before the week started over. 

It was all so domestic and intimate, so uniquely yours. 

You didn’t live with the boys (not yet anyways, they’d been trying their damndest), but despite all that, you never missed Sundays with them. 

Sundays were the one day that were yours and yours alone, living in a bubble where nothing could touch you. 

And you were gone. 

It felt like an ending Jake hadn’t ever seen coming, an iron punch to the gut that has him doubled over, one he couldn’t avoid no matter how hard he tried. 

He enters the bedroom as Bradley looks at him, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. 

“She’s not here.” 

Bradley glances at the empty bed, giving a soft shrug of his shoulders as he falls back under the covers. 

“Jake-” 

“No, she’s not here. She’s gone.” 

Bradley freezes, looking at him. The fear is evident on his face, that you’ve left them for good. 

For all Bradley had tried to get answers out of you, Jake had backed off, letting you have your space. In turn, Jake found you spending more time with him than you did Bradley. 

He knew that for all the million conversations he’d had with you since being home, they’d all been nothing more than surface level. He could see that your guard was up, that you were there but weren’t really there. 

But he didn’t look at you like Bradley did, with that knowing look in his eye. 

And the more Bradley pushed, the further away you got. 

And Jake feared that Bradley was going to push you right out the door. 

And he knew Bradley feared it too. 

“Where are you going?” Bradley calls after him as he slips back down the stairs. 

“To bring our girl home.”

#kylie writes #top gun: maverick fic #jake hangman seresin #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader x jake seresin

[imalittlebumblebee]

Not just sadness

Depression isn’t just sadness

I’m not just lazy

I don’t just not ‘feel like’ getting up

No

It feels like I’m in the ocean

I’m trying to swim to the top but I’m tied to cement blocks

Every time I get closer to the top I get to tired and I’m pulled back down

My lungs are burning

My eyes stink

I’m trying to get to the top

I can’t breath

I cant breath

I CANT BREATH

HELP

Moms home

Mask on

I’m fine

Can I breathe? No

Am I saving my breath as much as I can and prolonging the pain until I have no more air left and get dragged down to the bottom of the ocean?

Yes

12/19/23

#original poem #kylies poems #kylie rambles #kylie writes #poem #not just sadness poem

[delta-piscium]

I wrote this in September and it’s been collecting dust in my docs and staring back at me with judgement whenever I post or write something else so here 

“Steve” a familiar voice shouts across the room.

Steve turns around, and there, on the other side of the crowded room is Tommy. It really shouldn’t be as big of a shock to see him as it is. Steve is at a house party on a Friday night, it would have been weirder if Tommy wasn’t here. But still, that doesn’t mean he’s prepared to see him, they basically haven’t talked in three years, ever since Steve ‘chose’ Nancy over him and Carol (aka finally dropped them because they were horrible and didn’t drop Nancy because she isn’t). 

Still, he plasters on a smile, making it as polite as he can, and waves. Hopes it will be enough but of course, it isn’t. Tommy starts weaving through people, pushing and elbowing his way toward Steve.

“Its been ages,” he says clapping his hand on Steve’s shoulder, “how have you been man.”

Steve resists the urge to shrug his hand off, but it’s a close thing. 

“It has.” Steve doesn’t add ‘because you’re an asshole and I hate who I am around you’ and he feels very mature for it. “I’m good.” He very deliberately does not ask Tommy how he’s been. 

“Me too, me too.” He responds anyways, at least he finally removes his hand from Steve’s shoulder which makes him relax marginally. “Still dating Nancy?” 

And, okay yeah, he and Tommy haven’t really spoken since he and Nancy were still together but Hawkins is a small town and he’s sure Tommy knows that Nancy had both broken up with Steve, gone on to date Jonathan for two years, and recently broken up with him as well. Actually, he thinks he remembers a shower conversation with Billy just days after she dumped him and went off to Murray with Jonathan, a conversation that Tommy was also present for.

“No, we broke up years ago.” He dutifully replies anyways, because what else can he say? 

“Yeah, heard she dumped you?” 

Steve is gonna remain calm, play along in whatever game Tommy is playing, and not react. 

“She did,” he agrees easily.

“And got with Jonathan right after? Should have listened to us and stayed away.” He grins as he speaks, grins as if Steve is gonna agree with him. 

“We’re still friends,” Steve shrugs, letting the fall of Tommy’s smile bring one to his own lips.

“Was for the best that we broke up, we’re much better as friends.” 

Tommy squints a bit, his hackles raising and Steve only notices because he once knew him so well. Why he’s still getting defensive talking about Nancy Steve doesn’t know.

“Oh Stevie, you still hung up on her huh?” 

It’s deliberate, he’s trying to press Steve’s buttons. ‘Well, tough Tommy-boy.’ Steve thinks, ‘those ones don’t work anymore, have been defunct for ages. You’re gonna have to do better than that if you want a reaction.’ 

“Nah,” he says, lets his smile be a bit more genuine when he continues, “she’s great but I’m dating someone else.” 

“Rebound?” Tommy whistles, “she hot?” 

Why Tommy is convinced Steve is still pining after Nancy he can’t say, or maybe it’s the only angle he has on Steve nowadays? Except they basically lived in each other's pockets all through high school and if Tommy really wants to get under Steve’s skin there are other things, better things. Things he has used against Steve before and seen the effect of. Why he isn’t he using them now when he clearly has some agenda Steve can’t say.

Steve is about to respond, has his mouth open and ready to speak when someone calls his name again. Thankfully this time the source is a lot more pleasant. 

Tommy turns around to see who it is, completely exposing his back to Steve. It’s probably the last few years of fighting hell monsters that has ingrained a distrust in Steve. Making him hyper-aware of his surroundings and never willing to leave his back open like this to people he doesn’t trust. He knows this but still, he thinks there should be some primal instinct in Tommy to stop him from making himself so vulnerable to Steve, the action speaks of leftover trust that Steve isn’t ready to face. 

“Munson? You know Munson?” He turns back around, an incredulous look on his face.

It snaps Steve out of his thoughts and reminds him Eddie had called for him. He leans to the side, stretching out so he’s visible behind Tommy, catching Eddie’s eye and waving him over.

“I do, yeah.”

Tommy’s face twists into something Steve can’t immediately place. He recognizes it, knows he’s seen Tommy make that face before. It’s not disgust or confusion but maybe something in between? Before he can figure it out it clears.

“Oh, King Steve getting drugs? Who would have thought?” 

Steve rolls his eyes, the only reason he had stopped smoking weed for a while in high school was because athletes got tested. Why Tommy is pretending Steve ever had some moral issue with it now is beyond him but not much of this interaction has made sense to him so far so what’s one more thing?

“What Steve doing drugs? He’s a very responsible young man and would never” Eddie says, twisting past the last couple of people.

“Right Stevie? You wouldn’t touch the stuff?” Eddie–knowing very well that Steve would in fact ‘touch the stuff’–asks. 

“Not with a ten-foot pole.” Steve–who smoked yesterday–deadpans. 

“Knew I could trust in you to stay a good boy.” Eddie coos as he steps into Steve's space and kisses him despite where they are. It’s quick enough that no one who isn’t watching would catch it though and the only one who is watching is Tommy. When Steve looks back at him his face slack with shock. 

“Hagan,” Eddie says with a short nod. 

“You-?” Tommy looks between them, that same look as before flashing on his face, still just out of Steve’s grasp.

Steve contemplates what he should do for a second but Tommy already saw them kiss, already knows. And honestly, Steve doesn’t really care what he thinks and he knows Tommy won't say anything. Steve has too much dirt on him.

“Oh sorry, Tommy this is my boyfriend.” His voice is deceptively sweet as he introduces Eddie as if that’s what Tommy had been getting at.

Steve turns to Eddie, “baby, you know who Tommy is right?” 

He’s laying it on thick, asks despite Eddie greeting him by name two seconds ago. Knows others' unabashed confidence and being on the outside are things Tommy can’t handle.

“I think so,” Eddie plays along, “you were friends once right? Before you found better people?” 

It’s mean but Steve wouldn't have thought too much of it if it weren’t for the wounded noise Tommy makes. When Steve looks at him again his face is cracked open and it finally clicks what that expression is.

“Aw, you jealous?” Eddie says in a mocking tone, hitting the nail on the head because that’s exactly what that expression is, jealousy. 

It’s the same look he had whenever Steve told him about a new girl, the look he’d have when Steve started bringing Nancy around. It’s deeper though, not only jealousy. He also looks like he did when Steve told him and Carol to leave him alone. He doesn’t just look jealous, Tommy looks heartbroken. 

He tries to pull it together, scrunching his nose up in disdain, and scowls at them. Quickly looks away from Steve when their eyes catch and his mask falls a bit, instead focusing on Eddie who raises one eyebrow in response. 

“Hardly,” he scoffs, it comes out strained, “I would love to stay and chat but-” 

He doesn’t elaborate, just turns on his heel and disappears into the crowd.

Steve is frozen to the spot, a war going on in his head. Puzzle pieces he didn’t know were missing falling into place.

“Come on, let's get out of here.” Eddie grabs Steve’s wrist and starts pulling him outside, away from the party. He gets them in his car and doesn’t try to speak to Steve, probably sensing he’s having some earth-shattering realizations right now. 

“He liked me,” he finally manages to say. “That’s why he hated Nancy so much. He was...” he trails off, knows it’s true but can’t quite say it.

“Jealous,” Eddie finishes softly.

“You knew?” Steve asks because Eddie doesn’t sound or look surprised at all.

He shrugs, “I had my suspicions.”

“But how-”

“We looked at you the same,” his smile is wry, self-deprecating, “I recognized it.”

And Steve can’t really process this right now even though he knows it’s true so he grasps at straws, “Carol, he was with Carol?”

Eddie reaches out one arm and cups his face in his hand, glances at him quickly before he looks back at the road with a sad smile.

“If you’re in love with your best friend, your male best friend who you believe is straight, you do what you need to do to push it down, to hide it. Especially in high school and in a small town.”

“In love?” Steve rasps because he’d said ‘like’.

“Yeah, sweetheart. In love.”

Eddie brushes his fingers under Steve’s eye and he realizes it’s because he’s crying.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I don’t know why I'm reacting like this.” 

And it’s true, he really doesn’t understand why it feels like a big hole has opened in him. He never liked Tommy, not like that, yet it feels like he’s lost something, fucked something up.

“He used to be your best friend, it’s a big thing to realize.” Eddie parks outside of his trailer, turns to Steve making no move to get out of the car. “Kind of changes everything, or at least puts it in a new context, explains some things.”

Steve feels the blood drain from his face because he’s suddenly remembered something and oh god does it put it in a new fucking context.

“Baby?” Eddie asks when Steve sits frozen again.

“We used to get wasted and make out,” he whispers the words, shame coursing through his veins.

Eddie goes still and Steve rushes the explain.

“Not often and not after he got with Carol, just,” he takes a shallow breath, “It happened a few times. We’d steal my dad's whiskey and get so beyond drunk and, well, kiss a lot.” 

He’d smile at the memory if he wasn’t so horrified by it at the moment. 

“The first time Tommy had never kissed anyone, asked me to teach him so he wouldn’t fuck it up when it mattered. Then after that it just kind of continued to happen. We’d get drunk, make out, and pretend like nothing. It stopped when he started seeing Carol, he tried but I stopped him. Told him he didn’t need to practice now when he had the real deal. We never talked about or even mentioned it.”

Steve sees Eddie’s arms shake and when he looks up he sees Eddie holding back laughter, eyes filled with barely concealed amusement.

“Are you laughing right now?”

Eddie stops holding back, letting the laughter burst out of him and Steve is so confused because he thought Eddie would be mad at him. He’s not sure why, it’s just that this has been such a deeply buried secret wrapped in shame for years with a big ‘do not talk or even think about it’ sign placed in front of it. That it would be met with laughter was never a possibility.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps through it, “It’s just such a cliche.”

Steve’s confused face only makes Eddie laugh harder. When he calms down he takes Steve's face in both his hands holding him firmly and looking him in the eyes.

“Steve, baby, sweetheart. Tommy used the oldest trick in the book on you, asking you to teach him how to kiss and you did it multiple times because what? he needed practice? That’s the flimsiest excuse to gay kiss your best friend and it’s also fucking done, it’s a cliche.”

Steve blinks, realizes that while he never had feelings for Tommy he had definitely found him attractive, had enjoyed kissing him. Had very deliberately not thought too deeply about his or Tommy's motives because that would have made it something he would have had to face.

“Oh,” he says.

Eddie smiles, wide and warm, “yeah, oh.”

“You don’t think I used him?” Steve has to ask, “if he had feelings for me and I didn’t have any for him.”

“No,” Eddie says, “not more than he did you. And you were kids, just messing around and trying to figure yourselves out in a not-very-accommodating world.”

Eddie squints a bit in thought, “though he probably thought you were more on the same page, that you could continue even though he was with Carol. Must have stung to be rejected.”

Steve snorts, “wasn’t really interested in helping anyone cheat, even under all the pretenses.”

“I know.” 

Eddie's eyes are soft, looking at him with so much warmth that Steve momentarily forgets what they were talking about until Eddie's mouth twists into a sly grin.

“I can’t believe your first gay experience was with Tommy fucking Hagan.”

Steve gives him an unimpressed look, “at least I didn’t come in my pants ten seconds in, like some people I know.”

Eddie draws back, clutching his chest with his hands, “harsh words, love. It was at least a minute.”

#the amount of times i used the word realize- Steve in this and kylie jenner in 2016 #🤝 realizing so much #listen Tommy being in love with Steve and them kissing as teenager just takes up such a specific part of my brain always #like look at them- they would okay #don't ask me what this is beyond that #Steve and Eddie are assholes together b #but only (mostly) when it's deserved #Dels steddie thoughts #My writing #my post #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steddie fanfic #steve x eddie #tommy hagan

[oleksiak-pettersson]

Pick Me - Elias Pettersson

howdy hey everybody! It's been a hot minute... sorry not sorry.

this is the first part of a three part series i've been cooking up in my head for a few years now. I want to emphasize that this is set in a completely fictional world and is complete AU. The Canucks featured in this fic don't play hockey in the story. The timeline is also not accurate to real life.

warnings: angst, a certain celebrity featured as the villain, pregnancy, labour, swearing, this is an AU, only Quinn still plays hockey, almost cheating, emotional cheating in a way (will be expanded on more in the next parts)

word count: 4.5k

Pick Me | Choose Me | Love Me

There’s nothing better than the warmth of a comforter wrapped around your body. You pull it closer around your body, not caring if it leaves your lover without.

Your eyes blink open slowly, arms clutching the pregnancy pillow to your chest, comforter wrapped around the pillow and over your body.

As your eyes blink open, once, twice, a third time, you notice that at some point in your restful slumber, you’d stolen the comforter completely from your husband. Never one to complain, Elias must’ve grabbed the second duvet from the hall closet.

Your husband is lingering in the bathroom, you can hear the sink running as he goes about his morning routine.

He must notice you moving, as he approaches softly. He’s freshly showered and the smile on his face is soft and mellow in the morning light.

“Hi,” you murmur, taking in his beauty as it’s illuminated by the golden sun. His blue eyes twinkle with fondness as they take in your sleepy form.

You stretch a little, turning over to the side of the bed he sits on. His hand comes up and brushes a stray eyelash from your cheek. He holds it up to show you and let you make a wish, a simple gesture you taught him in your early stages of dating. There’s a kind of tenderness to his touch that no one else could quite possess.

“Hi.” Elias smiles back, hand falling from your face to hold yours. “How did you sleep?”

“So good, these two didn’t move a bit.” You prop yourself up against the headboard, free hand coming to rest on your belly.

“Probably too exhausted from kicking you all day yesterday,” Elias jokes, his smile causing his eyes to crinkle. He leans forward and presses his lips against yours. It’s a soft and sweet kiss. His mouth is minty fresh from brushing his teeth and it makes you smile.

He’s slow to pull away and you chase his mouth as he goes. He chuckles softly, hand caressing your cheek. 

“I’ve got to go meet Brock and Quinn soon for golf, I made you breakfast, it’s on the counter,” he announces, standing back up and stretching.

“What no in bed delivery? The service here sucks,” you lilt, the teasing evident in your voice. Ever the drama Queen, Elias rolls his eyes leaning down to press a kiss on your forehead.

“I’ll be back this afternoon, call or text if you need anything.” And with that he’s out the door.

You stretch as you get up, your back cracks and your belly feels heavier than normal. You feel like you’re resting lower than yesterday and there’s a weird feeling settling in your gut. You shake it off though, pulling on your lounging outfit. Your doctor had warned you about Braxton hicks contractions and you were sure that this feeling in your belly had to be that.

Your due date was fast approaching and you couldn’t wait. Pregnancy is hard enough but when you’re carrying twins it’s a whole other beast. You’re incredibly lucky to have such a kind partner who has taken such good care of you. Elias’ job as a content creator allows him to control his hours, unlike his good friend Quinn who captains the local Vancouver NHL team and whose schedule is rigid with intense travel.

It’s a slow waddle to the kitchen and you take it slow. One of your cats lounges in the middle of the hallway and you have to gently nudge her from your path with your foot. She mewls in uproar but does nothing to stop her movement. You have to lean against the wall in support to move her and your stomach twists once again. You take a breather against the wall, staring up at the popcorn ceiling.

Upon finally reaching the kitchen, you feel the need to sit down. The kitchen island chairs look incredibly unsupportive and the kitchen table has the worst chairs for relaxing. You let out a huff at the idea of having to move into the living room.

Your breakfast is still warm and you bring it into the living room to relax on the couch. The pain isn’t slowing down but instead seems to be moving up your back.

It’s just Braxton Hicks, you think. There’s no way I’m going into labour.

You find a comfortable position on the couch and rest your plate on your belly. Your feet come up to rest on the coffee table and you flick through the channels. 

The scrambled eggs and toast is just what you needed. The pain in your gut quells a little and you find the perfect spot on the couch to rest. There’s a throw blanket hanging on the back of the couch and you pull it over yourself.

Both cats follow your lead and curl up near you on the couch. You hold your hand out trying to call either into your lap, but neither take the bait. You sigh, moving slightly in an attempt to tuck the blanket under yourself but giving up quickly as you tire.

The curtains that cover the living room windows are wide open and the light from the mild spring day is bright but you can’t find it in yourself to get up. The simplest of actions, getting up and getting food, have exhausted you and your eyelids begin to feel heavy.

//

You wake up with a jolt of pain that causes your whole body to cease. The groan that leaves your mouth causes both cats to jump up from the couch and disappear down the hall.

The pain is intense and you briefly can’t move. It’s over as quick as it came on. You sit up on the couch trying to regulate your breathing. Your heart is racing as you throw the blanket off of your body and stand up. 

There’s no more denying it. You’re in labour. You need to find your phone and get a hold of your husband. It’s time.

The waddle down the hallway back to your bedroom feels like an eternity, you know there’s time before your next contraction will ripple through your body but you still feel a bit panicked. You twist your wedding ring around your finger as you go, trying anything to calm the fog of anxiety that’s beginning to descend around you.

Your phone is where you left it the night before, on the nightstand still plugged in to the charger. You’ve got a single notification, a text from Elias’ coworker Natasha Dion, inviting you out for brunch next week.

But there’s no time to respond to her. You need Elias. You perch yourself on the bed, legs holding you up as you focus on your phone.

You quickly unlock the phone, your face ID failing you - forcing a password attempt that you’re not too sure how you even managed to get the numbers correct. You close the instagram app sloppily, a leftover from last night's pre-bed scrolling session, and open your phone app.

Elias’ contact is the most recent number you’ve called and you waste no time clicking on it.

The phone dials up and the line begins to ring. You stifle a sob and try to take a deep breath as the line continues to ring. Your free hand cradles your belly. One of the twins moves beneath your hand, causing a little chuckle to leave your mouth.

“Mama will see you soon,” you murmur, the line continuing to ring in your ear.

Suddenly there’s a beep and Elias’ voice comes through. “Hey, you’ve reached Petey. Can’t get to the phone right now but leave a message and I’ll get back to you.”

“Shit,” you curse and then the beep sounds through. “Hi babe, it's me. Um, I think I’m in labour and I need you to get home uh, right away? Call me back please.”

You take another breath, trying to remember what they taught you in Lamaze class. You flick through your brain trying to recall the class you practised breathing. You can see the teacher saying something in your mind but you can’t hear it, you were too focussed on the feeling of your husband's rock hard abs against your back. It certainly hadn’t helped your breathing, to the point that the teacher had come over and corrected your breathing. Again though, Elias’ breath on your shoulder had distracted you.

Goddamn your sexy husband and his too-hot-to-handle existence. 

You decide to send him a text too.

To Hubby: Hi babe, can you call when you can? I’m pretty sure I’m in labour…

Another contraction convulses through your body. Your spine feels like it’s on fire and your belly tightens. You cry out vocally, trying to breathe rhythmically. You let yourself fall back against the pillows, just trying to get through the pain. You dig your fingers into the comforter, eyes screwing shut. It’s way worse than any period cramp you’ve ever had and you find yourself cursing your husband under your breath. Of course he can’t fucking be reached right now. Asshat.

Once the pain eases, you force yourself back up and grab your phone. There’s no new notifications and you resist the urge to cry. Then it hits you, Elias is golfing with Brock and Quinn. Brock’s phone is always on, something about never wanting to miss a call from his agent for the next big Hollywood hit or whatever, you don’t care about his reasoning right now but you’re thankful for him.

The phone starts to ring and you click the speaker phone option. It rings once before there's an answer. God bless Brock.

“Hello gorgeous mother of my future godchildren, how are you?” He answers, charming as always. 

“Hey Brock,” You chuckle at his greeting, trying to hide the tinge of pain behind your voice. “Can you give the phone to Elias? He’s not picking up and I think I’m in labour.”

There’s a pause on the other end and some shuffling. You think you can hear Bella in the background asking what's going on, that causes you to furrow your eyebrows. Why would Bella be golfing with them? She hates it as much as you do. Then you hear the phone being grabbed from Brock’s grip as he cries out a loud “hey!’.

“Babes, Petey isn’t here with us?” Bella states, sounding equally as confused as you.

“Put it on speaker,” Brock demands in the background, not as loud as Bella. The sound of the phone shifts slightly as she switches it.

“He said he was golfing with you and Quinn today.” You reply, groaning as another shockwave of pain runs over you. You groan loudly into the phone. The pain causes you to drop the phone on the bed and forget the phone call as you try to breathe it out.

“That’s impossible because Quinn is in-” Brock counters, slightly oblivious to your pain. You love him to death but he can be such a blonde sometimes.

“Brock, it doesn’t matter right now,” You can hear the annoyance in his girlfriend’s voice as she interrupts his thoughts. Her focus is quickly back on you. “Y/N, are you in labour?”

The cry of anguish you respond with clues her in immediately. She springs into action on the other side of the phone. “Brock, get the keys. We have to get her to the hospital.”

“No.” You cry out, pain subsiding slightly. 

“Y/N, babes, you’re in labour,” Bella levels, her calmest and most rational voice on full display. It’s what you need right not but the irrational part of your brain doesn’t want to leave without your husband. “Brock will keep calling Elias but we need to get you to the hospital.”

“Okay,” you relent, getting up from the bed slowly, you pick your phone up and head for the nursery.

“Do you need me to stay on the phone with you?” She asks, Brock is in the background stomping around the apartment. Anyone unfamiliar with the actor would think he’s mad, but knowing him, you know that’s just simply the way he moves. A lot less elegance than he looks like he may possess. 

“Yes please.”

///

In the time it takes Brock and Bella to get to your apartment, you manage to change and grab your go-bag before letting yourself relax on the couch. You achieved all of this between crippling contractions. 

Your favourite two people in the world let themselves in with the key they have to your apartment. They have sympathetic looks on their faces as they take in the sight of you on the couch. 

You must look like a mess, you’re sweaty and stressed. “Hi,” is all you manage from your spot.

“Hi gorgeous, ready to go become a mama?” Bella coos, squatting down in front of you. There’s a glimmer of excitement in her eyes and you can feel it now too. It’s slowly becoming real. You nod, holding out your arms so she can help you up. You brace against her arms as you get up, smiling gratefully.

Brock stands behind her sheepishly, flitting with his phone. His thumbs are moving a mile a minute and you hope to god that he’s talking to Elias and Elias is on the way.

“Is Elias going to meet us there?” There’s hope in your eyes that slightly breaks Brock’s heart.

In a split second decision, he lies. “Of course, so we should get going.”

Truth is, Brock has no fucking clue where his best friend is. He has no fucking clue why Elias lied about being with him. He sure as hell knows he’s going to chew out Elias’s ass the moment he tracks the Swede down.

The lie does seem to pacify you and Brock is quick to be at your side and help you to the car, Bella follows along behind, having grabbed the go bag. Brock leads you down the hallway as his girlfriend locks the apartment. 

///

Brock has never been more stressed in his life. He was once looking forward to having children of his own with his beautiful girlfriend but after driving you to the hospital in the state you were in, he’s not so sure. You cried out in pain nearly every 8 minutes on the way, Vancouver traffic never one to be considerate of a crisis.

The screaming from the back of his car had Brock white-knuckling the steering wheel and peaking sheepishly in the rearview mirror at Bella holding your hand. The pale look on his face nearly caused Bella to laugh, until you gripped her hand harder, head thrown back against the seat headrest. 

Between glancing back to make sure you’re okay and glancing at his Apple CarPlay in hopes of a response from your husband, Brock was struggling to pay attention to the road. 

Not the best attitude to take when driving a pregnant woman to the hospital. It caused your anxiety to skyrocket and Bella to yell at Brock which certainly did not help the situation.

Upon arriving at the hospital, Brock is quick to let you and Bella out at the emergency entrance, before circling around to go find a parking spot.

Bella has your elbow in her arm, supporting you as she guides you to the entrance. Your go-bag is over her shoulder.

“Thank you,” You murmur between breaths. The gratitude is quickly overtaken by a contraction though and you stop dead in the middle of the entryway, paralyzed with pain. Bella is quick to hold you up.

“Breathe, just like this,” her lips purse and she blows out her breath in a weird pattern. You copy along as a nurse approaches you. You recognize her as the nurse who does your check-ups.

“Hi Mrs. Pettersson, looks like we’re having these babies,” She smiles, coming to your other side and helping Bella guide you to the wheelchair an orderly brought over. You just nod your head, trying to follow along with Bella’s breathing technique. 

The orderly begins pushing you along to a room, the nurse lags behind with Bella. The nurse has a look of concern on her face as she turns to Bella.

“Where is Elias?” She inquires, she’d always admired how dedicated your partner was during check-ups. He always had questions and a detailed list of what you’d been experiencing since the last check-up. It had taken her by surprise when he wasn’t there but ever the professional, she’d schooled her shock.

“I don’t know, he should be arriving soon.” Bella supplies, speeding up to keep up with you.

The nurse nods her head and heads back to her station to grab her gear. Brock comes rushing through the door, spotting his girlfriend lingering outside of your room. 

The nurse slides between them to get into your room, the door is cracked as she begins to get you ready. Bella brings your go-bag in as you get changed into an IV-compatible gown. She plugs in your phone charger and checks to see if there’s an update from Elias. Your phone only shows a text from your mom. 

“Y/N, your mom texted, should I let her know?” She calls out to you.

Your reply comes muffled through the bathroom door. “Yes please.”

Both Bella and the nurse chuckle at your response. Bella is quick to shoot off the text, eyes lingering on where Brock is pacing outside the room. His phone is in one hand and the other is pulling at his gorgeous blonde locks in what can only be described as one of the most stressed actions she’s ever seen.

As you settle in the hospital bed and the nurse begins to fasten different machines to you. You’re oblivious to the stress emanating off of the actor outside of your room as you relax between contractions.

“Is it too late for an epidural?” You inquire sheepishly. Your nurse laughs.

Bella excuses herself and slips outside. She swears she shuts the door as she joins Brock outside. They can still see into your room, you’re chatting politely with your nurse as she fixes the blood pressure cuff around your bicep.

“Do you know when Elias will be here?” She asks softly.

Brock’s face drops as he turns away from the window. He’s seen your lipreading skills before and even though you’re distracted, he’s not taking the risk. “No.”

“Well what did he say when you talked to him?” Bella inquires, eyebrow peaked in interest. She also turns away from the window.

“I didn’t.” Brock says, eyes dropping to the floor. “I don’t know where Elias is.”

“But you said-”

“I needed to keep her calm,” Brock makes eye contact with Bella, the love for you is clear behind his eyes and she softens at the admission. “She can’t know that he’s not coming.”

“He’s not coming,” Bella repeats, trying to wrap her head around the fact.

“What do you mean he’s not coming?” Your voice sounds from behind them; you’re standing in the doorway, gown-clad and attached to a mobile IV unit. The look of shock on your face breaks both Brock and Bella’s hearts. Your voice grows quieter. “You said he was coming”.

Brock reaches out to comfort you but you’re now freaking out like he’s never seen before. The heart rate monitor spikes and the nurse in the room rushes to get you into bed.

There’s so much emotion flowing through your body. You’re hyperventilating and want to scream. No one is prepared for the way you pass out. Brock and your nurse lunge to catch you, struggling to get you into the hospital bed.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Brock is also freaking out now.

The nurse has no time for him though as she reaches for a large red button on the wall. Bella stands idly in the doorway watching the chaos unfold. She’s frozen in shock, unsure what just happened and what she needs to do.

The nurse is quick to spring into action, and she peers over her shoulder at your two companions. “You both need to get out of here. We have to take her to the operating room.”

///

Elias’ phone is on the counter in the other room. He’d placed it on the kitchen counter as soon as he’d entered Vanessa’s luxury penthouse. He’d had to dance around baby toys sprawled around the floor but it made him chuckle thinking about how your apartment would soon look like that.

Elias had met Vanessa Morgan a year and a half ago when he and Natasha had helped with creating some ads for Riverdale’s production team. He kept his friendship with the actress on the lowdown from you. You’d been suspicious of her since you’d met her. She seemed weirdly obsessed with your husband, but Petey thought of her as a friend.

He’d offered to help her set up some of the baby furniture she hadn’t had the chance to before she’d had her baby three months ago. 

He’d already finished the changing table and the glider chair. Elias was working on the crib, the instructions almost confusing to him. He’d had no trouble putting the twin’s cribs together. To Elias, it was something a father-to-be should take pride in. 

It’s why Elias stepped up for Vanessa. Her baseball player husband had left her early in her pregnancy. He couldn’t comprehend how a man could up and abandon his family with no hesitation.

“How’s it going in here?” The short actress asks from the doorway. She’d just finished putting her little guy down for a nap, thankful she’d been wise enough to buy a bassinet for her bedroom for her baby’s first few months.

“I think you may have bought the most complicated crib in the world,” Elias laughs, looking up at his friend with a playful smile. “Did he go down for his nap easily?”

Vanessa nods, strutting into the room, she admires the other pieces of furniture he’s built in his couple of hours helping her. “I’m surprised you’re not with your wife today.”

Elias hums, his focus back on trying to fit the pieces together. “What do you mean?”

“She’s getting close to her due date, isn’t she?” She inquires, there’s a tone to her voice that Elias can’t quite place. The tone he can't quite place? Smugness. The kind of hubris possessed by a woman with ill-intentions.

“Yeah but all the boys in my family have arrived late,” Elias insists, twisting the screw driver. “She’ll be fine.”

Vanessa could point out that his wife is carrying twins and therefore more likely to have her babies early but why would she force Elias back into his wife’s arms? No, she’d much rather keep him to herself for as long as possible.

While Elias might think of Vanessa as his friend, Vanessa thinks of Elias in a less pg way. She’d been wanting to get into his pants since the first time they met. Of course she was married at the time, but it had never stopped her before. 

“You know, that looks like hard work,” She starts, adopting her most sensual voice. She’s determined to reel him in. “Why don’t I make you a snack?”

Elias is quick to agree and they both proceed to the kitchen. He leans against the kitchen counter as she scuttles around the kitchen. Vanessa hands him a glass of water that he accepts happily and sips slowly as he watches her.

“How’s the show going?” He asks, as she gathers condiments from the fridge.

She smiles at him, placing her ingredients down on the counter beside him. “It’s good, they’ve been really good about me staying back with River.”

Elias nods, thinking about how easy it’ll be for him to help out with the twins with his job that he can work from home. “That’s awesome. You’ve got a good support system, hey?”

“Yeah, I’m extremely grateful for everyone in my life,” Vanessa puts her butter knife down on the counter, turning to Elias and moving closer to him. She places a hand on his chest and begins to trail her fingers along the ridges of his body. “Especially you, you’ve been so good to me.”

Elias freezes, this must be what you meant when you said Vanessa had a weird energy to her when it came to him. She leans in close, and he can feel her breath on his face. He’s briefly amazed that such a short person can reach him so easily but then she closes her eyes and leans in.

He’s saved by the bell. Okay, maybe not quite a bell but the loud, shrill ringing of his phone is a close enough substitute. He dodges out of her reach to grasp his phone. Brock’s profile picture is on display and once he’s certain she’s not following him, he clicks the green connect button before retreating into the living room with his phone pressed against his ear.

“Hello?” Elias says into the phone, silently thanking whatever deity he can that Brock saved him.

“Dude where the fuck are you?” Brock starts, he sounds panicked and Elias is instantly worried. “Actually, I don’t fucking care. You need to get down to Vancouver General now.”

“Why? Brock, what’s going on?” Elias demands, pacing around the living room.

“Your wife went into labour. After finding out you weren’t coming, she passed out and had to be rushed into an emergency c-section to save the babies.” Brock recites robotically. Elias has never heard his best friend so angry at him. 

Then Brock’s words hit him. His heart stops, and he jolts to. “I’ll be right there.”

///

Elias is quiet as Brock and Bella lead him to your room. Neither of them could truly look at him after he’d told them where he was. He couldn’t blame them.

He was a bit of a wreck. He’d driven over the speed limit to get to you. He hadn’t been there when you needed him and something could’ve happened to you or your babies.

Your room is also quiet. There’s a small whimper coming from one of the bundles in your arms. He stops dead in his tracks, seeing you holding your twins is everything he’s ever wanted. You, the love of his life, with his children. And he missed their arrival.

“Hi,” He says, finally. He’d stood in the doorway somberly long after Brock and Bella had headed home. He’s sure Brock has already informed Quinn of what happened, that’s why his phone is blowing up in his pocket.

“Hello,” you reply coldly, without even looking up at him. Your eyes remain on your sweet boys the entire time. You’d known he was standing there since the moment Brock and Bella led him there.

Your reply is a sharp contrast to the way you’d been with him this morning. It’s shocking to Elias how a single day can change everything in a mere matter of hours.

“So, we’ve got sons.” He starts, dragging his feet on the floor as he walks over to occupy the seat beside your bed.

“Well, we knew that already.” You deadpan, finally looking up at him. There’s pure hurt behind your eyes and Elias wants to reach out and hold you but he knows better.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. 

You scoff. “Whatever.” 

Elias reaches for a baby and you hand him one.

“I’m here now and I’m not leaving.” He says, sure of himself. It’s too bad you don’t believe him.

Next Part

#elias pettersson #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #kylie writes hockey #gimme gimme gimme an elias after midnight #elias pettersson imagine #Kylies miniseries

[riddles-n-games]

It's very interesting that despite Jameson coming across as a commitment-phobe and not the most trustworthy person, he actually ends up being very committed and loyal to his girlfriend. He'd literally die for Avery than for her to be in danger and wants to protect her with every fiber of his being. Another thing to note is that even though he seems like a playboy because he's flirtatious and emotionally unavailable, he was the one that was cheated on by Emily when it was revealed she was also with Grayson. He rightfully thought he was her boyfriend and of course, to some degree, it is believable that he wanted to fight for her affections to become her one and only by winning against his brother. However, he was also the one to call it quits with her first because he was DONE playing her games and was angry at her. In so many ways, Jameson shows to be the stronger one just when we think we know him and his type. That's an underappreciated part of his character; his unexpectedness. JLB often put twists to him but one thing can be said for sure, when he's in a relationship, he's a one woman man and clearly craves the love and affection of his designated partner. So, this is in part why I never really did understand why some fanfics where Avery breaks up with Jameson to eventually be with Grayson involve Jamie cheating on her when he's literally the most loyal person ever in their relationship. If we could please stop making that a trend, it would be much appreciated. I get making Averygrayson fics because you still want this couple and all which I respect but making Jameson a cheater just because you dislike him since he is Avery's choice doesn't justify that trope in any way.

#jameson winchester hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #avery kylie grambs #avery grambs #grayson davenport hawthorne #grayson hawthorne #emily laughlin #hawthorne brothers #averyjameson #averygrayson #the inheritance games rant #the inheritance games thoughts #the inheritance games fanfiction writing #tig writers #the inheritance games #the hawthorne legacy #the final gambit #the brothers hawthorne #tig #thl #tfg #tbh #thank you for coming to my ted talk #thank you for reading this psa #seriously please stop the cheating trope

[mysticmoon-s]

#oooof #i was gonna have him as a legacy spouce #at first #buth they turned out to be incompatible #i had to write him off #a little drama wouldn't hurt now would it #sorry Kylie or Kylee #idk her name in game #ts4 #the sims 4 #finch1 #Finch legacy #Milo Jones #Rowan Finch

[ariscats]

Ok, listen:

is the lyrics of Guilty as Sin? the most averygrayson thing to ever averygrayson? yes

but the vibes? im sorry but it screams averyjameson. im sorry i dont make the rules, it just screams avery longing jameson in thl.

“what if hes written “mine” on my upper thigh, only in my mind?” c’mon this is literally averys inner monologue after their kiss in True North

also “I choose you and me… Religiously” do i even have to explain?

#im sorry but taylor swift is the patron of averyjameson #she cant help but write abt them #i dont make the rules #taylor does #the inheritance games #jameson hawthorne #the brothers hawthorne #avery grambs #the final gambit #the hawthorne legacy #averyjameson #grayson hawthorne #nash hawthorne #avery kylie grambs

[thetimelordbatgirl]

What’s the point of the Isle if Red was born in Wonderland and not on the Isle? What’s even the point of Auradon Prep if there’s Merlin Academy with some of the villains and heroes going to school together? What’s the point???

"What's the point???"-A perfect summary of Disney Descendants nowadays. Seriously, the fact that they changed Red to having been born and raised in Wonderland when prior Descendants stuff alluded to the Queen of Hearts having been on the Isle...like what is the point of doing that??? Queen of Hearts could still be wanting to get revenge on Auradon even with Isle backstory, hell that might add to her reasons for revenge, since I'm pretty sure taking Wonderland People out of...well, Wonderland, would drive them insane as its the one place they thrive in and now they've been removed from it and are stuck in a prison and well...I can only imagine Queen of Hearts getting worser because of the Isle. (Seriously, even Ever After High addressed how wonderland people feel when unable to return to Wonderland, aka they feel lost and such in a world that isn't made to understand them...granted they also had the better Queen of Hearts design and better name for her kid but). There is literally no point to removing Queen of Hearts from the Isle and having Red born and raised in Wonderland beyond messing stuff up in Descendants even more (seriously, the prequel book could have been Red and her mom getting control of Wonderland back...not whatever you call the actual plot of the prequel book). Also they actually expect you to believe Red WITH the wonderland backstory, is somehow 'whip smart' and Chloe Charming is the naïve one...when I'm pretty sure the wonderland girl would be the naïve one actually while Chloe Charming would be the smart one??? Especially if Red somehow thinks the Isle was appealing just because it had no rules...

And Merlin Academy...oh one of the many banes of my existence...just...can we call it what it is: Ever After High rip off that also breaks a shit ton of continuity in Descendants??? Because similar to Ever After High, its a school that future heroes and future villains attend...that also leads to the fact that Descendants can no longer be based on the animated films like they claimed to be, because how the fuck would I dunno, Cinderella work if she attended the same school as Prince Charming??? Especially as animated Cinderella was put to work by her step family as soon as her dad died so there'd be no time for school??? How does Aladdin even work now when in the animated film, Jasmine has never been allowed out of the palace because of her over-protective father and has to sneak out and literally met Aladdin for the first time in the animated film...when according to Rise of Red, she and Aladdin BOTH attended school together and also dated in school, which??? HOW DOES THE PLOT OF ALADDIN WORK NOW THEN- and just, why the fuck is HADES of all bitches in the school??? Doesn't he have an underworld to rule??? Or is Disney gonna ditch mythology accuracy completely now??? And I guess Beast in Descendants got cursed as an adult if he attended a school, so rip that 'cursed as a child' implication from animated Beauty And The Beast- and lord, imagine your classmate in the future imprisoning your dad and you having to switch places with your dad, if Belle is attending the school as well. Maleficent....as long as its Leah and Stefen attending Merlin Academy with her I won't scream as much....if its Aurora and Phillip though, screaming time- and just, again, like Belle and Beast, Fay is just, I guess, seeing her classmate deal with family abuse and doing nothing for her when she's the classmate's future fairy godmother.

And also just because they apart of Merlin Academy: Morgie, son of Morgana Le Fay...where the fuck she been? Disney literally did not include her in Sword of The Stone, so where she come from? Also shit name for her son, not as shit as Red, but you know, its up there. Zellie, daughter of Rapunzel...third Rapunzel kid in Descendants lets go...but also hoping she's a time traveller because uh...how else is Razpunel's daughter in Merlin Academy with the future heroes and villains??? Ulyana...another sister of Ursula because using Morgana (Little Mermaid 2) was hard I guess...also comes with a 'whats the point' but a big one this time: what was the point of bating us with Dara Renee playing Chloe, only to reveal Dara is playing Ulyana and someone (with lighter skin tone then Dara) else is playing Chloe? What was the point of doing that beyond being iffy? And Hook...nothing to say on him...I just don't have anything on him, he's the least of Rise of Red's problems, he's just connected to one, aka Merlin Academy and the time travel plot (I'm not starting on that one because that'll be along ass rant...).

So yeah, like said: What's the point- perfect summary of Disney Descendants nowadays.

#disney descendants #descendants the rise of red #the rise of red #megan goes insane about descendants for the 100th time here #also yeah i had to bring up that ulyana detail because its still eyebrow raising #they had dara with kylie- whose playing red- in pictures together and on IG posts hinting to dara playing chloe #only to go no shes playing ulyana and someone else is playing chloe #and yeah i did note the lighter skin thing because...its very eyebrow raising thats all #especially with how rise of red isnt beating descendants iffy writing of woc still in other areas....

[lanterns-and-daydreams]

FORBIDDEN FRUIT

A Grayson Hawthorne x oc fic

Notes: I'm changing Cassian's eye colour. Also, please take a look at this for the profiles of some characters

Warning: once again, this is only a work of fiction, don't do this shit 💀🙏

PROLOGUE

Part 2

After the shower, Grayson knew he was late. He knew being tardy was unacceptable.

He quickly put on his clothes and then scurried towards the dining room. Everyone was already there. He was the last person to arrive.

He swallowed thickly as he felt his Grandfather's subtle gaze on him. He walked stiffly to his seat and sat down, next to Jameson, who poked him and then snickered. Grayson shot him a small glare.

"As everyone is now here, let us begin" The Great Tobias Hawthorne himself spoke.

There was silence in the room today, not even Xander was chatting like he usually did. The atmosphere was unusually......tense. It was as if everyone had noticed the old man was a little agitated today, so they had all opted to stay silent.

After the old man was done, he wiped his mouth with his napkin, stood up, and spoke

"Grayson." he said, and Grayson's head shot up "a word. After you're done, of course"

The old man walked away, and Grayson had suddenly lost his appetite. From the corner of his eye, he saw Nash look at him worriedly. He saw Xander look confused, and then a flash of emotion in Jameson's eyes, though he couldn't put his finger on what it was exactly.

He slowly got up, making eye contact with his aunt, Zara, for a moment before looking away and heading to his Grandfather's study

_______________________________

He hesitated before knocking on the door. He didn't know what his Grandfather wanted, he just hoped whatever it was, it wouldn't get him in trouble.

He went in after he heard a small 'come in'

He opened the door to see his Grandfather sitting on a chair in front of the large fireplace.

"Grandfather." Grayson pauses "it's me"

"Ah, yes. Grayson. Come here" his grandfather beckoned him closer, and he walked closer till he was only a couple feet away from the chair his grandfather was sitting on.

He stood stiffly, but tried to look like he was calm. He wasn't going to let his Grandfather see that he was anxious or nervous

"I saw you running around in the gardens today. A little unlike you" his Grandfather spoke after a pregnant pause, shaking Grayson out of his thoughts. "You were with someone."

The fact that the old man wasn't looking at him made him even more nervous, because he didn't know what his Grandfather was feeling in the moment, as his voice gave away nothing

"Yes" he replied, after a small pause "Yes, I was. It was not something significant, Grandfather. You need not worry."

"im not worried, my boy. But do tell, who was this 'insignificant person'?"

"it was a boy. He was annoying me. I was merely showing him that someone with the Hawthorne name is not someone to be messed with" Grayson stands straighter as he speaks, his voice steady

"And this 'boy' does not have a name?" the old man turned his head, but only slightly

Grayson was silent for a moment before speaking up. All he had to do was say this boy's name. Cassian Moonbeam. He knew his Grandfather knew that the boy had trespassed. Somehow, his Grandfather knew everything.

"i did not care enough to ask for his name."

The old man turned around to look at Grayson, the firelight reflecting off the lens of his black framed glasses "is that so?" he whispers

The old man got up, and Grayson stiffened, and looked down at the floor. He heard his Grandfather walk towards him, his footsteps echoing in the big study.

"Grayson." he paused, letting the word sink in slowly "Never forget that the future of this family rests on your shoulders. You are the heir apparent. Am I clear?"

Grayson tried not to shake. Tried to make sure his lips didn't quiver and that his voice was steady "Yes.....sir..."

His Grandfather leaned down a little and squeezed his shoulder "Remember, when you grow up, you will inherit everything. You will be the continuation of my legacy. The future of this family will rest on your shoulders and you will have to make decisions that will have the potential to either make you flourish or ruin you. Remember, family first. Your family always comes first, and people like us cannot afford to trust anyone easily, especially not the strays. That is like giving them a knife and turning your back to them."

He paused, letting it all sink in. "Do you understand now, Grayson? That you cannot trust people who are not family"

"Yes, Grandfather" Grayson says, eyes on the floor.

The old man squeezed his shoulder again, and then straightened, walking back to his chair "Then you may leave. You are dismissed"

Grayson walked out hurriedly, and only released the breath he didn't know he was holding after the door shut behind him. His eyes stung with unshed tears. He didn't even know why. His Grandfather had said nothing wrong. He didn't even know Cassian at all. He had met him just today, and the other boy had annoyed him and gotten him dirty. That was all.

But.....

No one had given him flowers before....

No one had talked to him so confidently as if they didn't care about his last name......

Everyone had always given him respect. No one just wanted to be his.... Friend.

"ill forgive you for calling me stupid since I wanna be your friend"

Why?

No one at school wanted to be his friend. His classmates thought he was rude and stuck up and arrogant and boring. They did not want to sit with him and talk to him.

Then why does this boy--

Its been a day, you idiot Grayson thought He'll get tired after a few days. But it doesn't matter. I have to tell him to stay away even if he does come tomorrow.

Grayson bit his lower lip to keep it from quivering as he nearly sprinted towards his room, hoping no one saw him right now.

Why are you crying? He thought to himself He's no one......Relief. Its relief. I'm relieved it was only a lecture. That's it, that's all.

He took a deep breath as he closed the door to his room and leaned on it, trying to calm himself and organize his thoughts.

But all he achieved was futile as his gaze landed on the geraniums again. He had washed them. Cleaned the mud off them. He had to admit, they were pretty.

He angrily walked over to them, picked them up, and threw them into the bin.

"Stupid flowers" he muttered

I'm gonna avoid him tomorrow. He's a wierdo, and I'm not gonna let him disturb my garden time. The more I stay away from him, the better Grayson thought to himself

......

Then why do you keep thinking of him?

Taglist:

@never-enough-novels @dahliawarner @pink-mask-06

@x-liv25-jamieswife

#Ik some of it doesn't make sense #It's all connected I swear #Im bored rn #I also genuinely don't remember who told me to tag them #If you did and aren't on the list I'm sorry #Pls tell me #And forgive for the shit writing pls 🙏 #the inheritance games #grayson hawthorne #the hawthorne legacy #the final gambit #the brothers hawthorne #jameson hawthorne #nash hawthorne #the grandest game #xander hawthorne #Cassian Moonbeam #Hamnahs fanfics #forbidden fruit fanfic #Moonthorne #avery kylie grambs #libby grambs #maxine liu

[akindplace]

This is the ending of January 2023 and more than ever the realization that everything is temporary is sinking into my skin and making me feel that whatever happens, I can get through it, though it doesn’t make any suffering deserved or justified. Pain is just a fraction of all human emotions I can feel and it’s not all I will ever feel. And if all is temporary and the past is gone and the future doesn’t exist and I can’t control the outcome of anything by being a perfectionist, maybe the present really is all I have and I should enjoy it and try to build joy into my life to make it easier to endure all this suffering can be the best I can ever do and it can be my life’s purpose and no one can really say shit about it because this is all deeply personal and their opinions don’t reflect my reality… maybe it’s impossible to always be happy, but I can still try to enjoy this little life I have.

#I have a migraine hello #i’m realizing things #like kylie in 2016 #I’m going to have lunch now #original writing

[banilikesfictionalpeople]

Heads or Tails

Part 1

Warnings: none

“Max!” Avery called out, “Come here this instance!”

Max sighed. She knew her best friend was stressed for her 1-year-anniversary with Jameson Winchester Hawthorne. They both were madly in love. Max got up from Avery’s bed and went over to a very tensed Avery.

Avery was pacing around the room thinking how she could make her one-year-anniversary special. Jameson excelled at giving Avery surprises. He never failed at making any special occasion more special and memorable, and spectacular, to say the least.

“Calm down Ave,” Max said to her best friend, “It’s just an anniversary! Plus, whatever you plan, Jameson would love it.”

Avery stopped pacing, and gave a sad smile to Max, “I know, Max. But, do you remember my birthday? Jameson was travelling and came back for my birthday! Not only that, he planned so much for my special day.” she said, as a grin crept on her face, “A hot-air balloon! He got a hot-air balloon for me.” She now stood in front of Max. “I have to make this day special for him. For us.”

Max groaned. She knew she couldn’t say anything to her. She understood Avery. Max knew how love felt like—thanks to Xander. Now it was her time to grin idiotically, “Okay then, Avery, tell me what you got.”

“Oh Jamie!” Xander called out in a sing-song voice, as he walked to Jameson sitting in one of the many libraries of the Hawthorne House.

Jameson was reading a book and annotating it. It was a book he heard Avery talk about to Max, about how underrated it was. “Yes Xander,” he said without looking up, “What is it this time? A machine-to-smash-pies-on-people’s-face or something else?”

“No Jamie— oh that’s a brilliant idea!” Xander said pondering upon, what Jameson said. He shook his head remembering why he came to him. “Anyway! Do you know where Libby is? She made me scones yesterday, but I ate them all and now if I eat the bakery ones, they don’t taste the same like hers!”

Jameson placed a bookmark in his book, and finally looked up to his younger brother. He sighed, “Nash has taken Libby for a trip to Paris, remember? They left this morning.”

“Oh.” Xander’s face fell.

“You know Xan, a certain person may have stollen few of your scones.” Jameson said, a crooked grin on his face.

Xander’s brows furrowed, “And is that person right in front of me?”

Jameson nodded. Xander’s face lit up in a second. “Where are they?!”

“In my wing,” Xander raised his eyebrows, asking for a more precise location. Jameson rolled his eyes and said, “Ok fine, they are under my bed.”

“I’m believing you Jamie.” And just like that Xander is gone, leaving Jameson in complete silence. He was still smiling.

He sat again and began reading the book again. Jameson intended to give this annotated book to his heiress on their First anniversary. This book would just be the beginning. He had planned so much.

Just a few more pages and then I am done, he thought and continued reading.

One hour later, he was done with the book. He got up and packed the book in the most beautiful gift-wrap, which had their initials all over it. He, then, went over to his room and kept the packed book with all other twenty-four gifts. One gift for every hour.

Three hours and fourteen minutes left.

hope y’all like it <33

#jamiee and his heiress <33 #averyjameson #jameson hawthorne #jameson winchester hawthorne #avery grambs #avery kylie grambs #the inheritance games #the hawthorne legacy #the final gambit #the brothers hawthorne #brothers hawthorne #inheritance games #jamie hawthorne #a very risky gamble #writers on tumblr #my writing #writeblr

[ofstoriesandstardust]

she'll be the best you ever had if you let her (n.p.t.)

note: i'm not sure i totally LOVE this idea but @cottagecori is my resident enabler so you're getting 2k words of something i may or may not continue

cw: quote unquote affairs, swearing, bisexual reader, this won't be everyone's cup of tea and that's okay! it's not for you!, is this poetic genius or have i just been listening to too much phoebe bridgers

“and i can wish all that I want but it won’t bring us together”

December 2021

Your hand shakes as you move to wipe away the tear that began to fall down your face. Sam’s hand finds yours, squeezing. 

“I’m sorry.” You hear your best friend whisper. “You didn’t deserve this. I’m sorry.” 

-

May 2021

Meeting Natasha had been like coming home after a long day, warm and safe. 

You’d only been back in San Diego for a week and a half when you’d run into her on your first day volunteering at the U.S.S. Midway. They’d been having an event for certain Navy personnel and needed extra hands, which is how you'd ended up meeting her. 

Even dressed in her formal blues and her hair pinned back in a tight bun, you’d been left more than a little flustered by her striking beauty, much to the amusement of the other volunteer you’d been working with. 

She’d been kind, chatting with you as there was a delay in the program, her nimble fingers brushing yours as she takes a booklet from you. 

You’ll blame the redness of your cheeks on the beaming sun atop the retired Naval aircraft carrier before you’d ever admit such a short interaction had left you feeling so much. 

But Sofia knows, as you will come to learn that she always does, and mentions that a bunch of the younger volunteers, kids of Navy officers, are headed to a local Navy bar for the evening. Invites you along with the promise of a good evening. 

And you know, in your soul, that you don’t typically enjoy nights out. Not in packed, crowded bars, certainly not surrounded by drunken military men. 

But this part of your life is supposed to be different and it will never be different if you don’t make decisions you normally wouldn’t. 

So with a twinkle in Sofia’s eye and a warm smile on her face, you link your arm with her and follow her off the looming ship on the shores of La Jolla. 

-

In hindsight, you should’ve known. Should’ve taken the twinkle in Sofia’s eye for mirth and laughter and trouble, but you can hardly bring yourself to care as Natasha’s mouth slots against yours. As one hand rests in your belt loops and the other soft yet firm against your cheek. 

The loud music in the bar seems to drown out in the corner you’re tucked away in, any and all thoughts fleeting as Natasha’s surprisingly soft lips press against yours again and again. She’s all you can focus on, the warmth spreading through your body as you think about how good it feels to be doing this again, to be doing this with her. 

-

Falling in love with Natasha is simple. 

It’s easy, like falling asleep. 

She’s as kind as she is strong-willed, a duality that shouldn’t exist together but does. 

You can see, even from easy conversation, how much she cares about this team that she’s stationed with, how much they’re family to her. 

She’s older than you, not by much, but enough to make you feel like she’s one of those real adults you always joke about with your friends. It’s something that should make you insecure, dating someone who had their life and shit together but never does. Natasha isn’t like that, would never make you feel small. 

Her friends might, a few of them making teasing comments about if you’re even of legal drinking age the first time she brings you back to the Hard Deck, but you know that you have always looked younger than you are. 

(You’d worked with middle schoolers in your freshman year of college and they all thought you were 14. You knew.)

But still, Natasha is there, warding them off with a witty comeback and a hand on your back, something that settles your nerves more than any amount of alcohol ever could. She didn’t have to do this, you knew, remembering the way your ex had let you sit there as you got torn apart by his friends. 

But Natasha isn’t him. She’s kind, and warm, and light. She listens to you on your good days and your bad days, makes you coffee on late nights as you slouch over books and an open Google doc, and brings you groceries when she knows you’ll be too busy to remember to do it yourself. 

She makes sure you always feel seen and heard. She goes to the airport with you to pick up Sam and Fran when they move back to San Diego and joins you on game nights with your cohort and your friends from the Midway. She supports all your dreams, no matter how small they may seem to other people. She has your friends from college giggling over a margarita about how they’re impressed you finally managed to date someone who’s nice to you. She makes it a point to be at all your presentations and always read through the drafts of your thesis when it feels like your eyes might melt. 

In short, Natasha loves you. To her, it’s simple and honestly, how could you not love her in return? 

Natasha knows you and loves you. She loves you because she knows you.

Which is why it feels like a dagger cut so deep when Natasha admits to you that she knew. 

-

November 2017

His fingers tremble with rage as he sets the paper down, barely breathing as he struggles to meet his partner’s eye. 

“How long?” He whispers. 

“Tom-” 

“How. long.” He grits out. 

Pete sighs. “Since August.” 

“Three months.” He whispers. “Three months and you hid this from me the whole time?” 

“You were sick Tom, I needed you to get better. You never would if you had known. And- And I hardly know anything as it is-” 

“You know enough.” He spits out, eyes unable to look at just one piece of information on the papers scattered out in front of him. “And this girl? What do you plan to do?”

Pete sighs again. “She’s my daughter, Tom. I have to know her. I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t.” He whispers, a fact that is making bile rise in his still-healing throat. 

“No.” He says with a quick shake of his head. “No. If you want to stay married to me, she stays out of our life.” 

-

July 2021

“Okay, thoughts?” You say, stepping out into the living room. 

“You look pretty!” Fran exclaims as Sam nods his head in agreement. 

You weren’t sure what was appropriate attire to meet Natasha’s friends, other than Natasha telling you to wear whatever made you most comfortable. You’d been through six different outfits, each one being pulled off faster than the last. 

“But we’ve said that about all of them.” 

You heave a sigh, flattening out the skirt of the dress. “I know but-” 

“No buts. You look incredibly pretty and Nat is going to like you just as much as she did yesterday.” Sam says firmly. 

You sigh again, glancing ​​at him. “I wish you guys were coming with me.” You admit quietly before plopping down on the couch next to Fran. 

Fran leans over to straighten the straps of​​ the dress, as she offers you a knowing smile. “You’re gonna have a good time. Sam and I can entertain ourselves for an evening, you know.” 

“I did live here for a while, remember!” Sam shouts from the kitchen.

When had he gone into the kitchen?

You hum as a knock sounds at the door, signaling Natasha’s arrival. You push yourself off the couch to answer her, unable to swallow the smile that spreads when you realize she’s brought you flowers. 

“You didn’t have to.” You whisper, taking the bunches of sunflowers from her. 

“I wanted to.” She says, pressing a kiss to your cheek before you can go far. She shuts the door behind her, following you into the foyer and then the living room. Fran brightens as she sees Natasha. 

“Let me take these from you.” Fran offers, before extending her other hand to Natasha. “You must be Natasha. I’m Fran. Sam’s in the kitchen. Babe, do you have a vase?” 

“I don’t know.” He calls back. “Why would we need a- oh.” Sam gives you a grin as he appears. “Yeah, let me see if I can rustle something up. Why don’t you kids get out of here?” You roll your eyes, ignoring the flaming of your cheeks as Natasha takes your hand, bidding your friends farewell. 

Nat’s right hand finds your thigh, drawing circles into your skin with ehr thumb as she pulls out of your driveway. 

“So remind me how you know Sam and Fran?” 

“Sam and I had a mutual friend and ended up really hitting it off. They’re just visiting for the weekend. I’m actually staying in his family’s place right now.” 

She hums. “That’s very kind of him.” 

You huff out a little laugh. “You’re telling me.” 

-

The Hard Deck is less noisy this time around, although your eyes still struggle to adjust to the dim light of the bar as you push your sunglasses up to the top of your head. 

Natasha guides you past the bar, promising to return later as she directs you to the pool table in the back. Her hands are firm against your shoulder blades as you walk. 

“Boys.” She calls, earning the attention of the men crowded around the pool table. They all turn, catching sight of you and you have to fight not to curl into Natasha. “This is my girlfriend.” 

The tall one, the blond, grins, being a little too sharp around the edges for your liking. “Are you sure she should even be in here Phoenix?” 

Her thumbs press into your shoulders as if to say breathe, relax, i got this. 

“Pretty sure you’re the one that likes them below the legal drinking age Bagman.” 

“Back off, Seresin.” A brunette says, pushing him out of the way. “I’m Bradley.” He says, extending his hand to you. You take it, giving him a soft smile. 

You’d heard about Rooster, Nat’s best friend. “Nice to meet you.” 

“This is Bob and Fanboy.” Nat says, pointing to your left. “Behind them is Payback and Coyote. The irritating blond is Bagman.”

“Hangman-” 

“The rest of the crew will be in shortly.” You wave to the boys, struggling to not make yourself feel small in their looming presence. “It looks like Mav is over at the bar, why don’t you come with me? I want to introduce the two of you.” 

You nod, intertwining your fingers with her as the two of you walk back towards the bar.

“Mav.” She calls, earning the attention of a shorter man.  A fond smile blooms on his weary face, turning from his conversation with the bartender. 

“Lieutenant Trace, to what do I owe this pleasure?” 

“Mav, this is my girlfriend. This is Captain Pete Mtichell, my commanding officer.” 

Pete’s smile almost seems to fade at the sight of you, but he must think better of any immediate negative thoughts as he extends a hand. “Nice to meet you.” 

“You too.”

Mav lets your hand go, turning to the person sitting next to him, an older man with graying hair. “Tom, this is Phoenix’s girlfriend.” 

The man, Tom, frowns at Pete. “I can hear Pete.” 

Natasha lets out a little laugh. “This is Tom Kazansky, Captain Mitchell’s husband.” 

Tom tips his head in greeting. “Good to meet you.”

#kylie writes #natasha phoenix trace #natasha phoenix trace fics #top gun: maverick #top gun: maverick fic

[imalittlebumblebee]

Changing colors

It wasn’t the distance that made me realize.

It wasn’t the loss of contact.

The moment I realized I didn’t know the current you was when the colors changed.

A simple question that showed that I knew you.

I was wrong. I got the answer wrong.

That’s the moment I realized I’d lost you.

The moment I knew I didn’t know the current you.

10/4/23

Taglist- @curseofaphrodite @immrbrightsideeee

#kylies poems #original poem #kylie rambles #kylie writes #poem #changing colors poem

[thewritingofspencerrose]

To Be Loved | To Be Alone With You

Luke Hughes x Austen Kelce

"Luke? What are you doing at my brother's front door?"

He stands there, curls I love so much hidden under a devils hat and sweats on, a tote bag I had left in Jersey on his shoulder.

"Wow, act like you miss me a little less, yeah?" He retorts, albeit jokingly as his brows raise.

"You know that's not what I meant," I remind, brows still as furrowed as before. "Don't you have a game tomorrow?"

"It's at home, which is all of an hour and a half from here," Is his returned reasoning this time.

"And the reason you're at my brother's door is? I remember telling you I offered to babysit for Jason and Kylie weeks ago when you asked about Valentine's day plans?"

"And I called him up and told him that he was more than welcome to help you watch the girls, given they're all already in bed and you're going to be all by your lonesome," my sister-in-law chimes, coming up behind me and wrapping her arms around my neck in a hug. "I wasn't going to let you spend your first Valentine's day together apart when the kid lives in Jersey."

I can't help but look between Lu and Ky, Luke looking hesitant in her presence as he holds my tote out to me in offering.

"I brought your favorite takeout from the joint in jersey we can warm up, matching pajama bottoms and my red Devs hoodie you always steal," He seems to feel the need to explain. "And I brought you three of those "Blind Date with a Book" things you were showing me at the book store last month. I figured you'd enjoy them."

"I hate you," I can't help but mumble, the tears in my eyes causing him to step forward and wrap me in his arms, eyes wide as they make contact with Ky.

"Don't worry, Kid. It means she loves you," Jason's voice is the next to join the conversation, coming up beside his wife. "Now, ground rules. No kissing, no touching, no naked touching, nothing rated more than G on the TV-"

"And that's enough out of him," Ky hushes Jas, putting a hand over his mouth. "You can ignore everything he just said, I trust you guys to not do something stupid," She assures as Lu and I chuckle at the behavior I wish I could say is unusual for my brothers. "We're going to go, call us if you need anything."

"We won't, have fun tonight," I assure, Luke shifting us out of the older couple's way to allow them to leave.

"I'm serious! If you make me an uncle in my own home I'm calling Trav and we're killing you, Hughes," Jason threats, the words ringing as Ky shoves him down the front walk, Luke nodding in a wordless answer as they go, Ky only shooting us a smile before shutting the door behind them.

"You drove all the way here and packed us dinner, just because I was busy?" I can't help but ask, turning in his arms and craning my neck.

"I'd drive any distance to get to see you," He answers, cupping my cheeks with large hands and giving me a kiss. "Now, I'm going to go put dinner in the oven to warm up, you want to go change and we can reconvene in 10 in front of the tv?"

All I can do is smile and nod, stealing the pjs and hoodie he brought me from the bag with dinner and all and handing the bag back to his waiting hand.

One more peck and a promise to meet me in the living room sends me off, and he fulfills his promise when I see him sat behind the coffee table, dinner in front of him while he clicks through the tv for a movie.

"Tadah!" I exclaim, throwing my hands up as I move into his view, his hoodie sleeves pooling at my elbows due to their length.

Red plaid pj pants that I can see he's in his own pair of, the red hoodie matching exactly in a way that makes my head happy.

"You look gorgeous, Baby," He compliments, waving me over to his side, and tucking me into it and kissing the top of my head.

"Thank you for driving here," I mumble, enjoying his warmth.

"We'll have to thank Kylie when she gets home, she's the one who called me up," A shy smile taking over at the admittance.

"God, what did my brother do to deserve her."

#original character #the writing of spencer rose #nhl fanfiction #best friends to lovers trope #luke hughes x best friend oc #luke hughes x oc #luke hughes #nj devils #valentines day #to be loved #jason kelce #kylie kelce

[oleksiak-pettersson]

If you’re taking any requests plez anything Quinn or petey 🥺

You swore you closed the door inaudibly. You take a breath and rest your forehead against the cool door. You could hear the TV playing some sort of football game, probably college because it was Brock's turn to choose.

"Y/N?" Brock calls down the hallway and you release the breath you were holding in. "You're home early."

Fucking eagle-eared Brock, you think, cursing him out as you slip your heels off and drape your coat on it's hook. Your purse is placed lazily on the table you'd bought the moment Brock agreed to be your roommate.

"Yeah, it's me," you reply, using all the will power in your body to not let the disappointment of the evening seep through your normally chipper tone.

You hear another voice cheer as the TV crowd also roars and your heart drops even more knowing that the group of young hockey players you call friends are still presently watching football on your comfy L-couch.

You paste a happy smile on your face as you finally make it down the hall to see the four grown men all staring at the TV with differing levels of interest.

Quinn is absolutely absorbed in the game and briefly glances at you nodding in acknowledgement. Nils smiles up at you from where he's sat, snacking like there's no game playing. Brock has a dog on either side of him, eyes following the play but have the slightest degree of worry as they take you in. You know he's totally on to the fact that you're home easily an hour before you truly should be.

Coolie's head lolls to look at you and his tongue falls out as Brock moves his hand along the pup's belly. Milo rushes off the couch and barrels towards you, his tail wagging a mile a minute. You greet the dog with equal enthusiasm, trying to figure out how to sneak him into your bed without raising any more suspicion.

Finally, your eyes fall on Elias. Your heart stops briefly, he's checking his phone. He hates nights when they have to watch American football - it's likely you missed his mini-rant about the name football and how this isn't it. He looks good, his hair is covered by a tuque that he's not wearing properly. Elias is wearing grey sweatpants and you briefly feel the need to run out of the room.

"So, how was your date?" Brock asks, a perfect eyebrow raised in question. It's a slow drawl and you know he's onto you. You hate how much he knows you too well.

All three other men's eyes shoot up to scrutinize you. They take in your nicest black dress and the fact that your high and makeup are perfect.

"That depends on how you define a date?" You counter, crossing your arms and leaning against the door way.

Quinn's eyebrows furrow as he focuses back on the game. "A date is a date. Two people, one event."

Brock and Elias roll their eyes in unison. They've seen Quinn operate, hell so have you. He's a smooth operator but has never gotten a second date so you take his opinion with a grain of salt.

Nils is the next to pipe up. "Like a dinner between two people?"

"Exactly, so not much of a date when it's only you." You utter, trying to focus on the game and ignore the ways in which all four men's jaws drop.

"You got stood up?" Quinn asks, his attention is fully on you now. To be fair though, he scrambles for the remote to pause the game before asking you.

Brock leans over and gives Quinn a whack to the back of the head. Nils also leans over to hit Quinn weakly in the chest. The brunet American lets out an audible "Hey!" and suddenly chaos has exploded in the living room.

You take this opportunity to sneak away and into your room. You don't notice that Elias' gaze lingers on your retreating figure. Milo follows you obediently, settling on your bed as your strip from your dress.

You remove your makeup and slip into your pyjamas and settle into your bed. Milo immediately cuddles into your side, wet nose pressing against your cheek. You chuckle at the silly dog, who moves to expose his belly the second your hand is on him.

There's a knock at your door and you sigh. "Brock, I'm okay. Go away."

"Uh, it's not Brock." A familiar accent sounds from through the door. You know Elias well enough to know that he's probably running a hand through his hair, questioning whether or not he should leave you alone.

"You can come in, Elias." Softly, you sit up and adjust yourself as Elias lets himself into your room.

He's got a hand sheepishly on the back of his neck. Elias is rarely nervous but you can read it on his body. His eyes are flitting around your room and his cheeks are flush. There's a pinkish hue raising up his neck.

"What's going on, Elias?" You ask, lips pursing as you move to tuck your legs underneath your body.

He struggles briefly within himself before he sits on your bed. His hands clasp in his lap and his attention is drawn to them. "I just wanted to check on you." He murmurs, accent thick as he tries to avoid your gaze.

"I'm okay, I wasn't really into this guy, I was just trying to distract myself from..." You trail off as you remember you're not talking to Brock but instead Elias. Elias who you're desperately in love with.

"From who?" Elias' voice comes out a lot deeper, as if he's trying to hide any hint of emotion.

"From you." You say quietly, your own gaze falling away from the blonde in front of you.

Then, there's a hand on your cheek, bringing your gaze back to Elias' gorgeous blue eyes. There's a fondness in them and it makes you melt. His eyes fall on your lips and then come back to your eyes, there's an implied question in this gaze. You nod your consent and suddenly his lips are on yours.

His bottom lip is plush against yours, his other hand comes to hold your other cheek and yours rise to his shoulders to pull you against him.

"Fuck yes! Quinner you owe me ten bucks!" Brock yells from the doorway, startling you and Elias apart. Elias is all reflexes to double-check that you're in no way, shape, or form in danger.

"Can we help you?" You ask your so-called best friend, currently rethinking that label.

"No, you already have. I no longer have to listen to either of you whine about how much you like the other, so thank you. Remember to thank me at your wedding." He states confidently as he closes the door and leaves.

You and Elias both turn back to each other and chuckle. Elias reaches out, taking your hand in his. He presses a soft kiss against your skin.

"Can I take you tomorrow night?" He asks.

You smile, "only if you promise to show up." You tease.

He holds out his pinky finger and you wrap yours around his.

#elias pettersson #nhl imagine #elias pettersson imagine #kylie writes hockey #hockey imagine #gimme gimme gimme an elias after midnight #kylies blurbs

[riddles-n-games]

Ok, I know my head is screaming at me that I already have so many unfinished fic drafts in Google Docs, not to mention how many more fic ideas in mind but I really want to create a story where Avery's mom is alive. Honestly, think how much more interesting The Hawthorne Legacy would've been if she was there. Like, in general, I'm gonna probably create some fics with that kind of AU when I pull that time out of a hat.

#hannah rooney #avery kylie grambs #avery grambs #the inheritance games fanfics #inheritance games fanfics #the inheritance games fanfiction writing #the inheritance games #the hawthorne legacy #tig #thl