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heartsandhischier · 2 months

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Breaking the ice

andrei svechnikov x female!reader

summary - 1.2k words. Y/N and Andrei are about to make their first public appearance of their faux relationship part 2 of The Pretend Play

author's note - omd I've already outlined this series to a 10 part series... getting a bit too caught up in this Russian man

warnings - none i think

It was the night of Andrei’s crucial playoff game. The chilly evening air did nothing to cool the simmering tension between Andrei and Y/N as they made their way to the bustling arena. It was their first public outing together since the arranging of their faux relationship. Y/N, despite her visible discomfort, wore Andrei's jersey, the number 37 standing out boldly against the fabric, a symbol of her reluctant role in this charade.

In the car, the atmosphere had been thick with their mutual resentment, their conversation peppered with barbed comments and thinly veiled annoyance. "So, how many hours of my life am I sacrificing to the gods of ice tonight?" Y/N had asked with a heavy dose of sarcasm, her eyes rolling so hard Andrei thought they might get stuck that way.

"Hockey games have three periods, each 20 minutes long, but with breaks and potential overtime, who knows? Could be your whole night," Andrei replied dryly, his focus on the road but his mind racing with the implications of their public debut.

"And it's going to be cold, right? I mean, it's an ice rink. Couldn't you play a sport in a more comfortable climate?" Y/N continued, her complaints a verbal manifestation of her reluctance to be part of this spectacle.

"It's not the Arctic, Y/N. You'll survive. Besides, you're wearing my jersey. Consider it a... personal heater," Andrei shot back, the corner of his mouth twitching in what could have been the start of a smile under different circumstances. "You might actually enjoy it if you stopped complaining for a minute."

Y/N huffed, crossing her arms over the jersey that draped loosely over her frame. "Oh, please, like I'm really going to understand anything that's happening. I just don't get why I have to be there if I don't even follow the sport."

"Because you're supposed to be 'the supportive girlfriend,'" Andrei said, emphasizing the last two words with air quotes, his eyes briefly meeting hers before returning to the road.

The bickering had ebbed as they neared the arena, replaced by a tense silence that spoke volumes of their current state of affairs. They were two individuals tied together by circumstance and necessity, each bearing the weight of their roles with a mix of disdain and resignation.

As they stepped out of the car and into the view of waiting cameras and eager fans, Andrei could feel Y/N stiffen beside him. He offered his arm, a gesture meant for the watching eyes, and after a brief hesitation, she took it, her grip on his arm surprisingly firm.

The flash of cameras and the murmur of the crowd greeted them as they made their way inside, their smiles practiced and their steps measured. "Remember, just smile and wave. Stick to the script, and we'll get through this," Andrei murmured to Y/N, his voice barely audible over the noise.

"Script? I wasn't aware there was a script for pretending to enjoy watching people chase a puck on ice," Y/N whispered back, her voice laced with a mix of humor and bitterness.

As they approached the grand entrance, Andrei leaned in, his voice low but firm. “Hold my hand,” he instructed, a blend of request and command. Y/N’s initial reaction was one of surprise, her brows knitting together in confusion. Yet, his rationale, whispered in a hurried breath – “You wanted me to step up, right? ‘If we’re going to sell this lie?” – prompted a reluctant compliance. With a soft sigh, she placed her hand in his, their fingers intertwining.

The red carpet that adorned the arena’s entrance was a sea of flashing lights and eager faces, the fans’ excitement mirrored by the curiosity swirling around Andrei and Y/N’s relationship. Despite the turmoil of emotions beneath the surface, they navigated with grace, their smiles carefully curated masks worn for the world to see.

As they pause for photographs, the press urges them for a display of affection, keen to capture a moment that would headline the next day's gossip columns. Feeling the weight of expectation on her shoulders, Y/N turns to Andrei, whispering a challenge masked as a flirtation. "Let's see if you're as good at hockey as you're at kissing," she says.

Without a moment’s hesitation, Y/N bridged the gap between them, pressing a kiss to his lips. It was a bold move, surprising Andrei. The cameras flash frantically, capturing the moment from every angle. The kiss, though and part of their act, sends a ripple of excitement through the crowd, and for a moment, blurs the lines between their public facade and private discomfort.

Andrei, caught off guard by Y/N's audacity, can't help but respond to the kiss with a genuine spark of admiration for her boldness. As they part, he looks down at her, a new sense of respect mingling with the complex web of emotions he harbors towards her. The crowd cheers, delighted by the display, and for a fleeting second, Andrei forgets the world watching them.

Following this electrifying prelude, Y/N was ushered to her seat by Andrei's PR manager, ensuring her smooth transition through the still-buzzing crowd. The arena was alive with anticipation, the energy of the fans a pulsating backdrop to the unfolding drama on the ice.

The match was a nail-biter, the Hurricanes and the Flyers locked in a dance of skill, strategy, and sheer will. Andrei's focus was laser-sharp, undeniably influenced by the presence of Y/N in the stand. Her support, whether real or part of their elaborate ruse, fueled his determination.

When Andrei scored, the arena erupted into cheers and applause, a wave of collective joy sweeping through the crowd. Y/N was on her feet, cheering along with the masses, her earlier doubts and pretense of their situation momentarily forgotten in the genuine thrill of the moment. Their eyes met across teh distance, a silent exchange that carried the weight of words and emotions.

The jumbotron, ever watchful, captured Y/n’s animated reaction, her image filling the screen for all to see. Andrei, glancing up at the replay, was struck by the sight of her genuine smile – a smile he realised he had never truly seen until this moment. The sight of her, so vibrant and unrestrained in her joy, sent an unexpected flutter through his heart, a momentary skip in its rhythm that he couldnt quite comprehend.

As the finals buzzer sounds, signalling a hard-fought victory for the Hurricanes. The atmosphere became electric. Andrei was soon engulfed by his teammates, their shared euphoria palpable in their jubilant celebration. Yet, amidst the chaos of victory, andrei’s thoughts lingered on Y/N. as the team commenced their victory lap, he sought her out in the crowd, their eyes meeting once more. For a moment, it was as if they were the only two people in the arena, her smile is genuine, her applause enthusiastic.

After the game, Andrei finds Y/N waiting for him outside the locker room. The game had transformed the awkwardness of their initial interactions into something more fluid. “You’re pretty good at this thing,” Y/N quipped, her tone light, teasing, yet underscored with a hint of admiration.

Andrei, still riding the wave of adrenaline and unexpected sentimentality, responded with genuine humility. “Thanks for being here,” he said, his voice carrying a warmth and sincerity that reflected his gratitude.

“Well, it’s not like I had a choice,” her playful retort was met with laughter from them both, a spontaneous moment of unity that felt strangely right.

#andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #hockey fic #hockey fanfic #canes fanfic #canes fanfiction #carolina hurricanes fanfic #carolina hurricanes fic #carolina hurricanes imagine #andrei svechnikov x y/n

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puck-bunny-for-all · 8 days

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Masterlist -

about your author : welcome to my world, im a mom, im 26, and a cancer survivor. I LOVE all things hockey, I love to chat. will forever be in debt to Quinn Hughes. I have a page for who I write for if you don't see someone on here just check that page or dm/inbox me :)

wanna talk? my dms are always OPEN!

requests are : open trigger warnings ; mentions of following may be included in some works : use of vape/weed and body image issues.

New Jersey Devils :

Nico Hischier -

thnx 4 having ussss swiss style everyone say thank you to nina I took a pill in ibiza thanks devil babies swiss swim puppy love 2 months off season jealousy 13 forever too fancy

Curtis Lazar -

lil red devil

WRITTEN -

Ghosts Of You - C.L (Curtis Lazar) *trigger warning*

"Here I am waking up, still can't sleep on your side..."

Jack Hughes -

happy 9 years my baby daddy I try to be supportive lil huggy boat day bitch beach bum baby devil

lil fun fresh outing

WRITTEN -

Never Be - J.H (Jack Hughes)

"I need your love to light up this house ; I wanna know what you're all about..."

Dawson Mercer -

Headcannons till next time

Timo Meier -

swiss swag

Vancouver Canucks :

Brock Boeser -

family close as strangers - written momma and papa of the year uncle quinn

the disrespect

Elias Pettersson -

Beside you - E.P (Elias Pettersson)

"When we both fall asleep underneath the same sky ; to the beat of our hearts at the same time..."

Quinn Hughes -

lil huggy enough bags mommy mode Luke is crying in the car ocean eyes cant hide forever no one else but you

beach house will be fun

media day

WRITTEN -

Unpredictable - Q.H (Quinn Hughes)

"We can run down the streets, with stars in our eyes..."

Thatcher Demko -

Lie to Me - T.D (Thatcher Demko)

"Problem was I thought I had this right..."

Toronto Maple Leafs :

Tyler Bertuzzi -

Matthew Knies -

signing pucks n shit

Auston Matthews -

life lately always working beach day

WRITTEN -

No Shame - A.M (Auston Matthews)

"I only light up when cameras are flashing...."

William Nylander -

weekend tingz

Morgan Reilly -

Story of Another Us - M.R (Morgan Reilly)

"I got a long term plan with short term fixes..."

Joseph Woll -

merch plug mrs woll

Florida Panthers :

Matthew Tkachuk -

Jet Black Heart - M.T (Matthew Tkachuk)

"Everybody's got their demons ; even wide awake or dreaming..."

Brandon Montour -

vamos gatos

WRITTEN -

Best Years - B.M (Brandon Montour)

"I wasted so much time on people that reminded me of you ; gave you a million reasons to walk away..."

UMich :

Rutger McGroarty -

Luca Fantilli -

#1 fan

Ethan Edwards -

lovers

week in my life

Mark Estapa -

ALL UMICH BOYS -

favorite non player umich dump

say thank you to kayleigh

Boston College :

Jacob Fowler -

Will Smith -

Gabe Perreault -

Ryan Lenoard -

beach trip

WRITTEN -

English Love Affair - R.L (Ryan Leonard)

"Today, I'm 7,000 miles away, the picture burning in my brain ; kissing in the rain..."

Extra Players :

Trevor Zegras -

Tyler Seguin -

Lover of Mine - T.S (Tyler Seguin)

“When I take a look at my life and all of ny crimes, you’re the only thing that I think I got right”

Matt Rempe -

summer lovin my power ranger stadium skate my favorite rempes'

WRITTEN -

The Only Reason - M.R (Matt Rempe)

"Don't talk ;

Let me think it over..."

TO BE ADDED TO MY TAG LIST DM ME :D

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st-louis · 6 months

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interrogator: is there any part of you that wishes suzuki would just pass the puck more? cole: i wish he'd shoot the puck more. interrogator: go ahead and answer my question first. cole: no. operator: that's a lie. cole: oh. don't show him that!

#this was so funny #cole caufield #habs

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theywantedplayer · 1 year

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can you please write something about trevor with how recently he’s been like picking fights? also i love your writing sm!!!🫶❤️

AN-There were two people that wanted ones that were similar to this topic I'm going to write all of them but a different scenario bc i LOVE ANGST

You and Trevor have been arguing back and forth for a little while now in the middle of your living room.

“Trevor you can't keep picking fights it's not okay”you told him he was acting like a child right now not able to own up to what he was doing “ Trevor you could get hurt! seriously hurt!”

“y/n I'm fine I'm not going to get hurt” he yelled with one hand on his hip and the other Moving anytime he talked. His nostrils are flaring as he took deep breaths Trevor was very frustrated his hair was a mess from running his hand through it which was a habit when he got over emotional.

“ Trevor”You Sighed you wanted this to end “You get into a fight almost every single game why can't you just let it go”

“Let it go? LET IT GO!” He yelled “you don't hear what they say on the ice y/n, trust me if you heard them you'd be acting the same way I would be” He argued again

it was like arguing with a wall, you were so frustrated your eyes started to tear up. A frustrated grown left you as you ran your hand down your face

“Trevor please” You pleased “I cant keep doing this” you turned and walked back to the bedroom “I'm going to bed” you were too Exhausted to continue this argument you just wanted to go to get ready for bed you were almost through the doorway until Trevor's voice stopped you.

“They talk about you ok” Trevor Admitted

You paused in the doorway to look at trevor, He looked so Distraught and Worn down

“They chirp me by saying things about you ok…there so how do you expect me not to say anything”

You took a couple steps towards him now back to where you were standing before.

“What do they say about me?” You asked but Trevor never answered “Trevor what do they say?” you asked again

“You don't wanna know” Trevor told Sighing as he flopped on the coach

“Trevor if it makes you wanna fight I think id want to know” You told a little more ferm this time

There was a long pause before trevor answered

“Trevor what do they sa-” “A no good puck bunny slut”

“What?” you whispered, you're not gonna lie it stung to hear that someone thinks that off you.

Some tears started to fill your eyes at the thought of it

A groan left Trevor lips when he saw the tears in your eyes “This is why I didn't want to tell you I knew you were gonna get upset and I hate seeing you upset” He Admitted reaching out his hands telling you to come over. You stood in front of him looking down at him threw tears, Trevor grabbed the Back of your thighs pulling you into his lap.

“Baby come on dont cy, please im sorry” He wiped a few tears that fell from your eyes onto your cheeks

“No its ok” you told Placing your hands on his chest “I just- stop getting into fights trevor” you pleaded “please I mean it”

Trevor groaned as he buried his head into your chest making you laugh a little

“Mhnm” was all you could hear from your chest

“Come again?”

“Ok” He agreed “I’ll stop fighting”

You smiled softly, both your hands came up to play with his hair. He leaned his head up to look at you “thank you trevor” you smiled leaning down to place a small kiss on his lips.

You laid with trevor on the coach for a while until he fell asleep with his face in your chest

#trevor zegras x reader #trevor zegras #trevor zegras imagine #trevor zegras fic #nhl angst #nhl fanfiction #nhl hockey #nhl x reader

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cyrusthedragon · 1 year

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Gentleman

Teen And Up Audience

Let's talk about Simon Riley being a gentleman for you but not the way we usually think about gentlemen.

Relationship: Simon "Ghost" Riley / f!Reader

Tags: domestic fluff, no "Ghost", established relationship, married couple, playful bullying, newborn children, Simon Riley being BIG and SOFT (and bullied), husband material

Please, comment if you liked it, it means a lot to me!

Notes:

Reader is from a rich family, but still joined the military

Reader and Simon serve(d) together

Simon Riley without his mask

AO3

Stand up so you can sit down; take off your outer clothes; pull up a chair for you; kiss the back of your hand; do not raise voice at you; if you walk on the sidewalk, then stand by the road; make sure you feel comfortable when you go out; if you bend over to pick up something under the table, then cover the corner of the table with his hand; lay his head on your shoulder just because; make two cups of tea anyway; try to say when he feels uncomfortable (not just swallow it cuz he don't wanna bother you! mister it's-not-that-deep); talk with you when something is wrong; when you look good — say out loud that you look good; ask if you need some help and actually help you, massage your tired feet.

Yeah, he doesn't really know about the etiquette and other stuff, but he knows exactly how to cherish you, trying so hard to give you that normal life he knows you deserve, even though he's so dumb that he didn't really understand you do not need 'normal life', you're as battle-scarred as he is, you just need life with him. Civilian or not, you don't give a damn about it, maybe he didn't know how to use that god-awful melon spoon, but it's okay as long as he is happy, cuz the melon spoon never was so necessary. You just love watching him, so clumsy with small and delicate things, that you can't help but just stay silent and admire how he's trying to deal with that nappy for your tiny little newborn baby daughter, who literally can completely fit in two his palms.

He was big compared to normal guy, was huge compared to you, and now he's damn giant compared to your daughter.

"Fatherhood suits you," you said, looking at him from the threshold, and laughed when he literally shuddered. The man on purpose lowered his guard down, 'cause he felt himself safe with you. Both of you, now.

"The hell are you tolkin' about... Help me instead, I can't understand how this shit works.." grumpy, messy, baby powder on his cheek, brows furrowed. If Johnny saw him right now, he'd definitely shit his pants from how scary Simon looked at that poor nappy, like it, idk, killed his beloved puppy. But as how scary it was for everyone esle, as much it was funny for you; you couldn't resist your laugh coming out, trying to hide your face with your palm, when he looked at you as severely as physically possible.

And blushed.

"Shut up."

You smiled at him widely, coming closer: "I said nothing, baby." but that wasn't true. Technically, that wasn't a lie, too. You said a lot of things, but not with words. "You can't handle one diaper?"

"I didn't say I can't handle it, dammit," he groaned, focussing on swaddling the baby who couldn't stop giggling and twitching from side to side; you rested your elbow on his shoulder, and he theatrically sighed, looking at his daughter: "Rocket fuel in your veins..." and, stooping to kiss her on her belly, added: "Just like your mother."

"I don't get it, are you bullying her?" before he realized it, you pucked girl up. She giggled, sucking on her own petit fingers, moving her legs. "You're bullying my daughter, Simon?"

"Oh goodness, love..." he clicked, you cackled, holding baby closer and moving two steps away from him, "you wanna start a fight now?"

"I don't", but considering how you smiled and looked at your daughter's very pleased reaction, you obviously wanted this: "Do you?"

"I don't," he answered, "but if you're going to continue whatever you're doing, I'm-"

"You what?" and you moved the child in your arms accompanied by her contented laughter, so Simon could see it:

You sly thing.

He can't do with you anything when you're holding the baby.

"What, you swallowed your tongue, darling?" your footsteps were coming closer to the living room, and he followed at your heels, looking almost the same as on the military, about to scold one of his soldiers. "Love..." almost growled, making the baby laugh harder, clapping; the fluff on her head swayed when you moved left and right, skirting the furniture: "Love?" you repeated after him, looking directly into his eyes without a single blink, "Now I'm love?"

"You always were my love..."

"No, five seconds ago you were threatening me!" you smiled, moving your gaze to your daughter. "He was threatening your mama, sunshine, look at him!"

"No-o!" Simon exclaimed, holding out his hands to the little one, "Princess, don't listen to her! She's lying! She was bullying me!"

"Bullying you? How can I bully you? I'm a victim here!"

"You're not!"

"Of course I am, princess saw how you were telling me you're going to do something!-" laughter, quick steps, radio talking in the kitchen, child's giggle, Simon's sighs, and two grown-ass adults argument in which each of you tried to convince a three-month-old child which of you is really a victim.

Was that the life you were expecting from joining the military?

No.

That was the life that Simon Riley gave you without your request. He just was there, silently, very bad at any good feelings, not knowing what exactly to say or how to act in some situations, learning from you by just watching how you talked with everyone, and simply remembering small things. From small things about how to interact with people, who are not broken as fu-. Ahem. To small things about you, and one day he understood — you became his healing pill. Somehow, by doing literally nothing, only existing in the same universe as him, winking to him, talking to him — actually talking, not just having some nonsense chat about the weather or your job, but discussing with him, asking about his opinion, you became a person who was so damn comfortable to him, that he couldn't deny how he's attached to you anymore.

This man appeared in your life like a silent company, then your partner on missions, then your partner for life, then your husband, and then the father of your child.

And now you were testing his limits, 'cause you wanted so.

This girl in your hands — she was the third most precious woman in his life, after his mother and you, and you knew exactly what you were doing by teasing him, not letting him go closer to you, or take her from your hands.

"What? What? Wanna say you're not bullying me? Princess, look-"

"No, princess, don't. Look at your daddy, daddy loves you, daddy would never bully your mommy."

"Liar!"

And then once again: he sighs, you giggle, baby girl made her baby sound, and the three of you were whirled around the house, from room to room, until finally, he cornered you. Literally. You pressed yourself into the corner of the bedroom with your whole body, never stop smiling, but knowing for sure that this man would not leave it so easily. You blinked, he towered over you like a mountain, put his hand on the wall and you automatically bit your lower lip, chuckling: "Are we like... In some kind of third-rate young adult drama?"

"Give her to me. Now."

A hoarse, hot, deep voice sounded right in front of you. His blue eyes into yours, and you had to tilt your head to keep eye contact, but it was completely worth it.

"Or what?" you whispered; the little one's eye's shifted from you to her father, from him to you again, Simon leaned over to you, and before this whole situation started to get too spicy, you quickly gave him the child and came out from under his quite skillful confident kabe-don. Ah, but you remember times when he was too shy to kiss you... "You can have her," you said, looking innocent, watching him trying to handle girl as delicate as possible, hissing at your actions as if scolding because you simply cannot treat such tiny, fragile creatures like that.

You can break her!

He.

Scolding you.

For not being gentle.

He.

Holding her so, so gently, carefully, holding her head straight, because she didn't know how to do it yet, frowning at you, you, an irresponsible woman!

This behemoth of a man with such a little girl in his hands.

"She's already daddy's girl, isn't she?" You murmured. Simon put her on the changing pad, you followed him. "Try again," you said, when he took the open diaper.

He sucked air deep into his lungs and began to swaddle this little giggly monster.

Action after action, extreme care, total concentration, as if he was defusing a bomb, unblinking stare until the last details, and only when girl was laying there, completely swaddled, with a pacifier in her mouth, he exhaled, closing his eyes.

"Holy f-..."

"Good job! It was that hard, baby?" You chuckled, stroking his back, when he turned to you, hugging your waist softly. "No," he whispered, breathing in your scent, mixed with perfume and the smell of a hair conditioner, "I was trying not to hurt her. She's so tiny..."

Oh, that man drove you crazy.

The level of happiness in your blood exceeded all permissible norms, you pressed into him, cheek on his cheek for a second, and kissed his cheekbone, smiling like a fool.

Or it was just him?

Big protective fool, so scared to hurt his little daughter...

You love him like this: in your arms, mumbling about how afraid he is that one day he'll do something to her, due to miscalculated strength. You weren't afraid. You knew he simply won't let it happen.

"You wouldn't." You answered, gently running your fingers through his short blonde hair, "Wanna know why?"

Simon looked into your eyes, moving away a little, so you could see him properly: "Why?"

You smiled: "Because she's our daughter," and before he let himself relax, you added, grinning nastily: "If you'll ever try to hurt her, she'll kick your ass, like it's a fucking football, darling."

Well.

Maybe... Just maybe... Maybe he wasn't a liar...

Maybe you truly enjoyed bullying him, so he can "get angry" and finally shut you up with the most delicious kiss in the world.

Simon's lips pressed to yours, your hands over his hot red cheeks, because someone's still too easy to tease, his hands around your waist, just to be sure you're not going anywhere, your eyes closed so you can remember every moment, every note of his taste. And the softness, but the conference of his movements.

Simon Riley was the best example of the word "self-control".

You never saw an another man with such power over himself that he can hold the most fragile teacup tightly and not break it.

And he was afraid?

He?

Oh, you were planning to live a life beside him and for once and for all make him see how amazing he really was.

Yes, he doesn't have some fancy private university diploma, maybe he's not a philosophy Ph.D., but, god forgive me, was he less incredible because of it? Not even a little.

He doesn't know about a melon spoon, he doesn't really like all these luxurious restaurants, he can tell nothing about Gucci house, then fuck it, fuck it all, fuck the etiquette, fuck high table manners, fuck meticulous elegance, prim ideality — the way Simon kissed you, keep you close, the way he looked at you with his eyes go wild, the way he was sucking your scent, burying his face in your neck, after holding your common child, as if both of you were priceless treasures from the depths of the sea.

Squeezing you, carefully touching her chubby pink cheek with a pad of his finger, and slowly, lightly kissing the back of your hand, pressing her close while rocking.

Yeah, he wasn't a gentleman.

He didn't have a fantastic talent for anything, couldn't distinguish Manet from Monet, and mathematics wasn't one of his strengths.

But he had his stubbornness, willpower, desire, and love for work.

Simon Riley was a hard-worker.

And that's exactly what you love in him.

"We should..." you swallowed, licking your lower lip after that disastrous kiss he gave you, "We should go on a date..."

"Why so?" just his hoarse voice made you snuggle into him, hugging his neck so tightly, as if you wanted to kill him with your own hands — that's how much you loved him. But you did nothing.

Just breathing heavily, feeling him lift you by your hips, seating you on the windowsill in your bedroom. "Because," you murmured, smacking him on the lips, "I want you to eat molecular crap in your only black suit, and grumble that this berry foam is not a real food."

And when you laughed, already hearing his old man's grumbling, his huge hands grabbed your waist again, squeezing tightly, as if purposely ignoring your mouth-watering sides.

You told Simon last morning that even though it's been three months since you gave birth, your pelvis still hurts sometimes —

Oh.

What a gentle man he was...

Haha.

#ghost #ghost cod #ghost mwii #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost call of duty #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x female reader #simon riley is a babygirl #ghost x f!reader #ghost x female reader #simon riley x f!reader

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c-h-pictures · 2 months

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I today did mini golf and went to the arcade toda,y so naturally, incorrect quotes for my current favoured characters

HSR incorrect quotes:

Ratio: How are you this bad, I thought you were lucky?

Aventurine: Mini golf is not a game of luck, it is a game of inate lack of skill.

Sunday: *gets the ball stuck under the windmill*

Ratio: Aventurine, get it.

Aventurine: Why me?

Ratio: Because you insisted on going first so you're the only one on that side.

Aventurine: You could walk around. You're taller than me.

Ratio: Just knock it back.

Aventurine: The grass is drenched, I don't want to lie on it.

Sunday: Oh, forget it! *reaches down from the otherside*

Ratio: SUNDAY

Sunday: *gets hit by the windmill* FUCK

Ratio: I'm surrounded by idiots.

Aventurine: This isn't fair, how come he gets a hole in one? He was the one who got stuck under the windmill.

Sunday: You were the one who said there was no control over how well anyone did.

Sunday: WHY ARE YOU SO AGGRESSIVE?

Aventurine: It's an arcade.

Sunday: THIS IS AIR HOCKEY!

Ratio: I can't believe you.

Aventurine: Just get the puck!

Ratio: It's inder the other table, I'm not interrupting them.

Sunday: *throws the hockey thing at him*

Sunday: Now get it.

Ratio: What the fuck?

Sunday: I'm not losing.

Aventurine: You are.

Sunday: Did he lose a single one?

Aventurine: I did not!

Sunday: He took his coat off.

Ratio: I don't think that would have helped you.

#honkai star rail #hsr ratio #hsr aventurine #hsr sunday #hsr incorrect quotes

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puck-the-devil · 5 months

Note

You don't have friends? Come on Puck, you don't believe that either, let loose a bit on that aspect, I assure you it'll benefit you

W-what do you mean, I don't believe that? I can't lie, remember? What's your definition of the term 'friend', anyway?

Maybe it might benefit me in some ways, but that doesn't mean it won't hurt me worse in others.

#Ask #Puck #Anonymous

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ladylooch · 5 months

Note

Imagine when Liv is like six and she comes home saying she has a boyfriend Timo would freak.

"Daddy, I am in love." Liv sighs, throwing her backpack into her cubby in the mudroom. Timo pauses with one shoe on and the other off. Slowly, he continues the process.

"With me, yeah?" Timo asks, scooping her up and setting her on the kitchen counter beside his wife. He smooches Emma's cheek where she is cutting up fruit for all the babies.

"Yeah. But also with Oliver."

"Did he like the bracelet, babe?" Emma asks.

"What?" Timo turns to her. She has an amused glint.

"Livy has her first boyfriend. She made him a cute beaded bracelet with their initials. It was adorable. I have a picture if you want to see it."

"Um, this is not allowed?" Timo asks as a question, popping a bushy eyebrow at his wife. "Em. No." Timo doesn't wait for her response. "Livy, you are too young for a boyfriend."

"Mama said-"

"Mama isn't your only parent."

"Timo, calm down." Emma slaps at his butt. "They're 6. You won't be giving her away anytime soon."

"I'm never giving her away, period."

Lio comes into the kitchen, changed out of his uniform and into all the Devils apparel he can fit onto his little body.

"I'm gonna go shoot pucks!" He yells, rushing towards the basement. Half of the large space has been transformed into a shooting and stick handling area for Lio.

"Hey!" Timo yells. "Did you know about Oliver." Emma snorts at the way he says the boy's name. Lio stops in his tracks, looking at Emma for a sign of what to do.

"T." She chuckles under her breath, resuming cutting apples. Emma shakes her head no at Lio.

"Don't look at mama." Timo turns, smirking at his guilty wife. "You teaching our babies to lie to me?" Emma purses her lips. Timo sets Liv down, letting her run off downstairs with her brother. "You're in big trouble." He nips at her throat. He grabs the knife out of her hand then throws a shoulder into her thighs.

"Ah!" Emma giggles. "Let Livy live her life!" She yells, slapping Timo's ass as he walks her towards the stairs.

"Gonna teach you a lesson."

#tm: loving & leaving #Timo Meier x oc #Timo Meier imagine

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gatorbites-imagines · 2 years

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can I request a Din Djarin x flirty male bounty hunter reader? both compete for jobs, and overtime, grew closer and closer. just general frenemies to lovers headcanons if you don't mind :DD bonus points if theirs wound bandaging ((side note, there aren't a lot of mlm and nblm blogs out there.. so thank you!!))

Din Djarin x Bounty hunter male reader

Headcanons

Din my beloved space himbo 😌

Idk why I imagined the reader being kinda like Poe, but that’s what was on the back of my mind as I wrote this.

- You and Din first met when the both of you were still greenies when it came to bounty hunting. Back then Din only had a helmet and a few blasters and knives. You favored blasters and lesser-known ways of battle, like the use of needles or bladed fans. Your style was a lot more agile and fast than most, leading it to almost looking like dancing.

- You both wanted the same bounty. Din, who was smaller and more gangly than he would be later, tried to puff up and intimidate you to let him take it. But you just smirked at him and purred a compliment about his muscles.

- This threw Din for a loop, and whilst he was distracted you took the bounty and ran off, laughing as he finally seemed to realize what you did.

- You waved at him through the window of your ship as he ran out through the doors to the cantine you had both just been in, blowing him a kiss as you flew off.

- After that the both of you just kept running into each other. It was like something kept throwing you on the same path. Of all places in the galaxy, at least once a month you’d be at the same canteen or hideout for bounties or information.

- You both became a sore spot for the other, a sense of pride always pushing the both of you to passive aggressively get in each other’s way. This came from Din in the way of taking your bounties, so you shot back at ruining any attempt for him to gather information by flirting with his target or telling your own information comrades not to tell him anything.

- The two of you started to get known around the canteens you both frequented. The shiny mando and pretty pilot who both seemed to want to take a blaster or knife to the others throat.

- You kept flirting with Din, or as you knew him, Mando. Though as years passed, he became mostly desensitized to it since it happened so frequently. Though sometimes you still caught him by surprise, so you took It as a game to try and get under his skin as much as you could.

- When you could do that, you regularly slipped his bounty puck from him as he froze up, trying to think of a reply. You’d always run off like that very first time you met, and Din would chase after.

- It would be a lie to say the both of you didn’t get into fights regularly. Whether it be small scrabs in front of whatever canteen you had just bumped into each other at, or an outright gun or knife fight.

- Din would never admit that he sometimes started those knife fights so he could watch you jump and twirl with your knives. To say it made him hot under the collar would be an understatement, as knowing your way around weapons is one of the hottest things you can do for mandos.

- Your fight would always end when the owner of said canteen came charging out calling the both of you idiots for chasing away other patrons.

- You both didn’t seem to notice that you went from outright despising each other, to looking forward to seeing the other.

- You first realized when you hadn’t seen Din for about three months, and you started to worry. It was first after you had gone to the fifth canteen that you both frequented, looking for him, that it hit you.

- You shook it off, telling yourself that you had just gotten used to seeing him, so it was weird when he wasn’t there. If you had started to teach yourself Mandalorian, so what?

- For Din, it was when he had gotten shot between the armor plates, and you threw a large needle with such skill and precision, that it struck right where it needed to kill the enemy.

- He laid awake that night in his cot on his ship, with his fingers folded on his chest. When he thought of you throwing that needle with such grace his face went red and he felt warmth bloom in his chest.

- He became horrified at the thought that he was falling for you of all people, the one who many had dubbed his “rival” for many years now.

- When you next met up, Din tried to ignore you once again, but when you wrapped an arm around his waist and spoke words in heavily accented mandalorian he couldn’t help but sputter, his armor suddenly feeling hot and restrictive.

- When you stole two of his bounty pucks, it couldn’t even get himself to chase you this time.

- You both kept meeting like always, except now you didn’t get into fights in the courtyard every time. Din would nod a greeting at you, and you would blow a kiss. When Din one day caught the kiss out of the air and made a motion like he was putting it in his pocket, you couldn’t help but get a little warm in the face.

- It happened when you were once again struggling over the same bounty. This one paid a stupid amount for grabbing a kid and bringing it somewhere. Now normally you wouldn’t take this kind of bounty, but because Din wanted it, you wanted it too.

- The being behind the counter finally seemed to have enough of Dins posturing and your over-the-top whining, and finally slammed it on the table and told you to take it together or they would give it to someone else.

- Din and you looked at each other, a conversation passing between your eyes and his covered ones, and before you knew it you were in your respective ships on your ways to the bounty.

- After all these years you had finally handed over your comm codes for this mission, if you did a little happy dance as you got in your ship, no one would know. And no one would know that Din had to go splash water in his face to cool down the heat of his cheeks.

- Things pass like in the show, except for this time you are there alongside Din, and you were just enamored with Grogu.

- At some point your dock your ship somewhere safe and travel with Din in his. Along on this trip the two of you grow closer and closer, and Grogu seems to come to love the both of you.

- When everything happens with Grogu being kidnapped and handed over to the Jedi and Dins ship being destroyed, you can’t do much but stay with Din and help him the best you can.

- After the fight with Gideon is over and Din has won the darksaber, you end up on your ship, which some allies who owed you a favor brought to you.

- You end up setting the coordinates for wherever the two of you have to go, and dragging din to the small room you had set up as a medical room.

- Here you order Din out of his armor so you can look him over. He tries to go against it, but you just place your hands on your hips and stare him down, so he ends up removing his armor and the upper part of his undersuit but keeps the helmet on.

- You get to work patching him up, muttering to yourself about how he just doesn’t know how to take care of himself.

- How you don’t want to lose him because he does something stupid and ends up bleeding out on some backwater planet out in the outer rim.

- As you make work of slather bacta on a blaster burn on his side, Din lifts his hands, and before you know it you hear the hiss-click of a helmet being taken off.

- You feel your eyes widen and look up, meeting the face of Din, who glances off to the side with a nervous glint in his eyes. You are completely speechless, especially cuz you know how he feels about showing his face.

- Din starts to blush as he makes a comment about how hes already broke his oath, and because he didn’t want to lose you either he thought why not.

- That was the closest Din could get to confessing, and you knew that after having traveled with him for so long.

- You laugh outloud, and Din looks scared fearing you are laughing at him. But you jump up and grab his neck, pulling him in to kiss him passionately.

- Din freezes up for a moment, but finally melts into the kiss and lets his eyes fall shut as he cradles your jaw in his hands, trying to shove as many of his emotions into the kiss as he can, which you respond to in earnest.

- You both grasp at each other with an almost desperate, overflowing with the feelings that have slowly been brewing for many many years.

- That night you both cuddle up in your cot in the part of the ship that you have dubbed your room, holding each other close and just basking in the others presence now that you could finally hold and kiss the other.

#male reader #star wars #din djarin #mandalorian #star wars imagine #star wars headcanon #star wars x male reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin headcanon #din djarin x male reader #mandalorian imagine #mandalorian headcanon #mandalorian x male reader #star wars x reader #din djarin x reader #mandalorian x reader

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thepaintedlady00 · 2 years

Text

Burden

Chapter 3: A Dream of Starlight

Part 2 | Part 4

Daunts Gown

TW: Dream's an asshole (yep he's sharing titles with his sibling this bit! 😂), some light choking (not the fun kind), character death, angst, fluff

The Corinthian walked across the misty bridge, each side lined with statues of wolves and dogs. He regarded each with a fond look, having known them all once before they met their ends. Daunt's companions never lived long, something about her realm... about being by her side seemed to make them die faster. She'd gone a while without using another of those stones, but the loneliness always won out in the end. Once he cleared the bridge he stood at her newly constructed home, a simple hut at the base of the tallest tree in The Forest. Sitting guard in front of him the wolf Puck watched with glowing yellow eyes. The Nightmare tipped his hat and adjusted his glasses. "Evening, mutt."

"My lady isn't taking visitors today. Leave." The wolf growled lowly.

"I've come on official business, I'm afraid." Corinthian held up the engraved letter with a tight smile. "Dream sent me to deliver this."

The tree roots cracked as they wrapped tightly around his legs, squeezing him at the sound of his creators name. It was hardly a secret that Daunt and Dream had a bit of a... Falling out after their last conversation, though calling it such would be generous. Corinthian remembered it all too well, having been the only one beside Jessamy that had been present for it.

It had began almost immediately after Destruction left his post. Dream sought you out in your realm, angry and looking for answers. Answers that you didn't have. You sat with your companion at the time, Gaia, on the bridge looking out at the river that now ran beneath your feet. It was then that you felt him, his power shoving through The Forest without care or thought as he looked for you. You'd not seen him for years, not since he'd last scolded you for entertaining his favorite Nightmare, who it seemed accompanied him with low words that almost sounded like The Corinthian was trying to calm him down.

Jessamy flew out of the trees, landing next to you. "Forgive our intrusion, Daunt. Please just answer his questions... he is not in the mood for opposition today."

A warning from Dream's trusted raven? That was odd. Usually the two were far more in sync in thought and action. Dream tore through the branches and stared you down. "Did you know?"

You tilted your head to the side with narrow eyes. "You'll have to be more specific."

The Corinthian emerged shortly after his maker and set a hand on Dream's arm, an action that was promptly shoved off as he stalked forward. "Destruction is gone."

"Gone?" You questioned, disbelief and pain nearly bringing you down.

"He has abandon his realm and his role." Dream stopped just before the bridge. "Did you know that he intended to go?"

"No." He left? You thought back on the last time you spoke fully, he had seemed tired... Restless then.

"Liar."

You scoffed, a sound more meant to clear your now tight throat than anything. "Why would I lie?"

Dream took a step forward, the wood creaking beneath his foot. Gaia's haunches rose and she growled lowly beside your feet. The darkness of your realm seemed to curl around Dream as he continued moving forward until you stood face to face. "Out of spite to the rest of us, to protect him, to wreak havoc on the world. Take your pick."

With a simple show of your palm, Gaia calmed, but did not relent in her defensive stance. You stared down Dream just as you always had, but this time was different, this time he was actually showing you something... not his usual mild annoyance but his anger. "I didn't know and I wouldn't have kept it from anyone if I did. Despite your belief, I am no liar."

"I do not believe you," he spat. "Where is he?"

"I don't know."

Dream's hand wrapped around your throat, not squeezing too hard, but enough to startle you. "Where is my brother?"

You pushed yourself further into his hand, bringing your face closer to his. "I already told you. I. Don't. Know."

"Dream," Corinthian called, uncharacteristically stiff. "We're wasting our time."

Gaia was growling again as Jessamy and Corinthian all tried to get his attention, to snap him out of such a deep state of anger that would cause such a lapse of judgment. His hand squeezed harder. "You and him were close. Do you expect me to believe he told you nothing of his plans when it seems he shared everything else?"

You knew this insinuation, he'd used it to insult you many times before. Yet, he would never listen to you tell him such rumors of yours and Destructions intimate connect were just another of Desires games to make you feel unwanted. "Believe what you want, Dream, but you are not the only one he abandon. I share the same pain as you."

"You share nothing with me."

"If you're going to kill me then do it." The words seemed to shock him out of his rage, or rather the eagerness in your voice. The light came back to his eyes as he looked down at his hand still wrapped tightly around your throat. A human would have likely suffocated by now. "I have been ready to die from the moment I was made." His hand released you, but his eyes remained glued to your neck where the bruise of his violence was no doubt prominent. You let loose a breath and shook your head. "A pity. For a moment I thought you were actually going to show me some semblance of kindness."

His eyes seemed to water as he sighed, his hand hesitantly reaching toward you. "Daunt..."

The thick tree branches wrapped around him before he could touch you again, pulling him deep into The Forest as the mist grew thicker. "You are done talking, Dream Lord."

"I-" A root covered his mouth as Gaia's glowing purple eyes pierced the darkness, her low growls filling the space around Dream as you emerged from the trees, nothing more than what humans described of you. A woman of mist and her companion of shadows.

"Stop talking." You said, lowly, the trees around you shaking with your voice. White snakes slithered around his bound limbs, hissing as they moved. "I have put up with your lowly treatment for centuries. Have respected your realm and your wishes even when it made my duty strained. All this kindness, all the respect I bore you and yet you would dare to enter my realm and raise your hand against me?" Dream tried to speak against the rough wood that covered his mouth, but you were no longer listening. You were physically shaking, the pain and anger and betrayal of not one but two of the Endless filling your body. "No longer. I will not look upon your face or hear your silken voice spit cruelty at me ever again, Dream Lord. And if you ever return I will kill you. I don't care if your siblings retaliate, I don't care if your death causes the end of all life. I have had enough."

He was released in an instant as The Corinthian and Jessamy found their way to where you both stared one another down. He breathed for a moment before standing, hand once again reaching for you. "Daunt, let me-"

"Leave." You ground out, tears running down your cheeks and your hands closed so tightly together that it hurt. "Leave and never come back."

Gaia leapt from the shadows when Dream took a step towards you. She stood tall between the two of you, white teeth bared as she snapped them at him, you turned away and began to walk back into the misty trees. "My lady has commanded you. Should you refuse it will bring me great pleasure to tear you and your companions limb from limb, King of Nightmares."

Of course he did not relent and so you cast him out, along with Jessamy and The Corinthian. Once all was still again and only you and Gaia remained you collapsed, sobbing as Gaia wrapped herself around you, pressing her head into yours. For years that had been the last you saw of Dream of the Endless and for years it was the last you planned on seeing of him.

He'd sent messengers to request an audience with you and each time you'd refused. You had no wish to see him, no wish to hear his cruel words and endure his lowly treatment of you for simply existing. As you'd told him you were done. You did your duty in the dreams of men, only ever remaining on the black sands of his world to watch the sunrise when you were certain he would not come to find you.

Some of his subjects would approach you for conversation, mostly nightmares such as The Corinthian who remained your friend throughout the centuries and Gault who respected you and your purpose. On rare occasions Cain or Abel would be with the once nightmare named Gregory they would speak to you fondly and Gregory was always a friend. Then there were the rarest occasions where Dreams trusted librarian, Lucienne, would be out on the beaches and would speak with you, though you long suspected that this was of Dreams doing... a way to see how angry you still were with him.

Anger was no longer what you felt, not for a long while, now all that remained was hurt and loss. You'd lost Destruction, who'd been the only one to understand you from the beginning of your existence and then in the same day Dream... a being you loathed but respected made his feelings about you clear. You were nothing to him. You may have been forced to interact through your duties, may have joined him and his family for dinner, may have had moments where for even just a short second it felt like he didn't hate you... but the reality remained the same. Your function meant little to him, your life meant even less. All Dream of the Endless would ever see you as was a burden.

As the years passed, Gaia too grew weaker. She'd lived by your side, faithfully providing you with protection and companionship, for ten years. She'd lived the longest out of all the stones Destruction had given you before he departed. When moving became too difficult for her you sat beside her on the bridge, her favorite place, and you waited for the end to come as it always did.

Dream had realized his mistake in confronting you over Destructions departure immediately after seeing his handprint left on your skin. He'd lashed out at you because it was easy... because he'd done it thousands of times before. But something had shifted in the scarce meetings he'd had with you the years prior. He found himself thinking of you often, thoughts that began as angry turned softer... he wondered what it would be like to show you his realm, to hear your voice not filled with malice and distain, to feel the your warm skin against his. The thoughts never left him alone, and after you'd thrown him out of your realm and told him never to return they'd only grown stronger.

He'd not seen you since that night, well, not truly. There were some nights he stood on the beaches and watched you from afar. Once he'd even tried to approach you, but the purple eyed wolf had stopped him with a glare. After that he stayed away, sometimes he'd send Jessamy to watch you, or Lucienne to gauge your ire. Eventually the fleeting feeling of your presence was not enough for him, and so he began sending messengers to your realm, in hopes you'd accept his offer and allow him to approach you. That never happened.

Though he'd never admit it to anyone, Dream felt badly. So badly he took to sitting in the Waking World alone with his thoughts. Death always found him in moments like this, and with a sigh she invited him to join her in her work. Dream accepted, as he always did, opting to wait outside the locations she traveled, but unlike the times before at the end she offered him no advice or words of encouragement. She instead turned to him and pressed a hand to his chest. "You might not want to join me for this last one."

"Why not?"

"It's... It's not like my usual collections. You won't be able to wait off to the side while I do this."

Dream merely bowed his head slightly to his sister. "I should like to accompany you nonetheless, sister."

When The Forest greeted them with an open path and thin mist, Dream was surprised to say the least. He followed Death closely until they reached the bridge he'd stood on and threatened Daunt all those years ago. This time she was on the ground, holding her trusted purple eyed wolf in her arms and whispering comforting words to it. He stood at the edge of the bridge, eyes only now taking in the statues of her other fallen companions that lined the path.

This was wrong. Shaping stones were not meant to perish, and yet they all had, nearly every stone he'd given to Destruction after the first was spent before his eyes. Death approached with reverence and knelt beside Daunt. "I'm sorry."

"I know." It was the first time he'd heard her voice in so long. She sounded so sad, so tired.

"I'll make sure she finds her way," Death promised as she laid a hand to the wolfs head. He watched lift the wolfs spirit up into the sky and vanish.

Daunt cried into the fur of her lost friend, the mist curling around her and the trees around them seemingly crying out as if they too felt the pain of her loss. He took a step forward, the bridge creaking beneath his feet. "Leave."

He paused in his steps and sighed. "Daunt, please..."

"GO AWAY!" She screamed, the mist shooting out toward him, blinding his sight and pushing him over the edge of the bridge and into the dark waters of her realm. Somehow he found his way to the waters of The Dreaming, back to the docks of his own realm, but now cursed with the image of Daunt curled over her dead friend and weeping.

Dream found himself holding a blue stone as he approached Lucienne in the library. She bowed her head and looked at him with inquisitive eyes. "My lord? Is there something I can help you with?"

"I hope so, Lucienne."

You opened your door to glare at The Corinthian, who stood in the same spot in front of Puck's watchful eyes. "Why the fuck would I accept this invitation when I've denied all the others?"

He shrugged. "Not a clue. I'm just the messenger."

With a few steps forward you gave Puck a loving scratch behind his ears and took the intricate envelop out of Corinthian's hands, tearing it in two and tossing it to the ground. "Message delivered and denied."

"Come on, Daunt," The Corinthian said with a crooked grin. "He's got a party to crash this time. I'll be all by my lonesome if you don't come."

"I'd rather die than attend any part of his."

"Me too, but I'm forced to go. If you were to come with me, we could at least have a bit of fun." He pulled a package out from behind him. "Besides, Dream had the sense to send a gift with me this time."

You rolled your eyes. "If it's another of his gowns I don't want it. He makes them these beautiful colors on purpose just so I have to watch them turn white."

Corinthian shook the box a bit. "This ones already white. We'll match."

For a moment you prepared to decline again, but the Nightmare seemed off... seemed like he needed this fun he spoke of more than he let on. So with a sigh you grabbed the box out of his hands and turned back inside to get changed. "You owe me big after this."

Dream had crafted the dress beautifully. It was the only compliment you'd give him and it would remain a quiet one. You'd attend his party, but you had no plans to speak with him or even look at him, just as you'd promised all those years ago. Once you'd changed and gotten yourself cleaned up a bit you rejoined The Corinthian and Puck with an annoyed expression. The Corinthian tilted his glasses down and whistled. "Lookin like a real Lady now, should I bow?"

"Stop teasing and let's just get this over with please?"

"As you command, my fine Lady Daunt."

"Corinthian..." You warned taking his arm. "Don't make me smack you around."

He merely shrugged as the two of you continued down the path. "Could be kinda fun."

Dream sat on his throne, watching his creations celebrate and in all honestly he'd forgotten the cause of this party. His head felt heavy, the hours passing with The Corinthian still not returned from Daunt's forest. Perhaps this time his request had been answered, or more likely, she'd gotten tired of his insistent asking and decided to take the Nightmare hostage. Just as he was about to give up all hope he saw The Corinthian enter, with Daunt and her new wolf beside him. The residents of The Dreaming moved out of her way, whispering about not wanting their gown to lose color and Dream felt another pang of guilt fill his chest.

It was his doing, their callousness of her. They were merely treating her as he had all the eons of this world. Daunt, however remained focused on the Nightmare at her side as he pulled her in closer. He couldn't help but feel a rising heat in him at their closeness, at the sight of his nightmare whispering things in her ear that brought a smile to her face or a laugh from her. She'd never given him either... he'd never given her a reason to.

Lucienne smiled from beside him. "Lady Daunt is looking well."

"Yes," he answered tensely, his eyes now drawn down the length of her. She'd worn the gown he sent... it was not often he cursed himself for his creations, but damn this was one. Dream couldn't focus on anything else, not while that dress, slightly too sheer, hugged her form so nicely, the jewels shimmering with every move she made and the intricate vines and tiny flowers brought attention to the plunging neckline that he had designed. Did he design it this way because the dress would be beautiful? Or had he done it because he wanted to see Daunt in it... to see her skin revealed to him in such a way... No. He cut the thought off before it could fully stick in his mind.

"It is a wonder she accepted this invitation," Lucienne noted. "It has been quite some time... perhaps she has-"

"She has not forgotten, Lucienne." He sighed, leaning back into his throne with a frown. "Nor has she forgiven."

Daunt was many things, but she was not one to forget lightly. She was here, yes, but she'd not looked in his direction once, and she most likely did not intend to do more than stay by his nightmares side and leave. Dream could only hope he could find a moment with her alone before this opportunity was gone.

Dancing with The Corinthian made the heat of Dreams eyes on you feel lessened, only slightly. You'd spent a few hours taking in the sights of the beautiful throne room, of the Dreaming that you were always denied access to. You didn't see much of it aside from the palace, but it would have to be enough. As the room began to really fill with Dreams subjects you snuck away to the pier, a location you knew from little glimpses. The Corinthian sighed, placing an arm around your shoulders. "Thanks for coming with me. I'm sorry you're likely going to regret it."

You shrugged it off. "You deserved to have fun tonight."

"At what cost to you though?"

"At the very least an unpleasant conversation." You nudged his shoulder. "But, it's one I will gladly suffer to bring you some peace, my friend."

He opened his mouth to speak again when Puck's growls interrupted him and the long not felt power of Dream brought a chill to your skin. The Nightmare tipped his hat to you and sighed. "Sorry, Daunt." He turned and smiled at his creator. "Dream."

You turned away, looking out at the water as Dream slowly made his approach. "I would speak with Daunt alone. If she will allow it."

Saying nothing you waved your hand and Puck followed The Corinthian down the pier, away from the two of you. You told yourself this was to keep the witnesses of his murder lower, but in truth you were afraid they would see you as weaker in Dreams overwhelming presence.

His black clad figure settled in beside you, his hands clasping behind his back. "It is lovely out here."

Silence.

"I was surprised to see you..." He admitted. "I did not think you would accept my invitation."

More silence.

"I see you have a new companion, if I'm not mistaken that is the last of the stones you carry?"

Silence again. Did he expect you to answer?

Dream turned his gaze to you, a loud sigh echoing in the air. "Daunt... please speak with me."

This time you relented slightly. "I've nothing left to say to you, King of Nightmares."

"I... I regret my actions all those years ago." His admittance was surprising, but it did little to ease the pain he'd caused. "My brothers decision affected me more than I thought and I was... I was looking for a way to release it."

"Fortunate for you, that you just so happened to know where the cosmic mistake resides."

"That is not what you are," he answered softly. For a moment you almost believed him.

You shook you head and ground your teeth. "You've made it quite obvious what you think of me. You and Desire see me as little more than a thorn in your sides, a mistake, a burden meant to make your lives miserable."

Dream was quiet for a moment, the comparison to his sibling must have struck him deeply. "Perhaps that is what I thought of you once. But I see now that I was wrong."

"You see now?" You scoffed. "Don't insult me."

"Let me show you then?" He offered, moving his hand toward you an action that made you flinch away from him. He dropped his hand after that and gestured to the water. "Please?"

Just this once, you'd indulge him. Just the last time you'd let yourself give into the whims of the Dream Lord. Once inside the waters you were guided to a dream... a memory? You both stood in a theatre, empty save for a few people going over lines and the set design. On the stage a woman clothed in all white with a very unconvincing dog at her side stood. A man, the writer, you presumed stood in front of her, giving her notes on her performance. You glared at the figure and felt a fear rise up in your chest. Of course this was another game... another trick meant to make you feel inferior. "Is this meant to be me?"

"Yes."

You turned quickly. "I did not come here to be insulted."

Dream stopped you with a gentle, feather light grip on your arm. "Wait."

The writer sighed. "She's not meant to be evil."

"But she's trying to stop the story, isn't she?" The actress asked. "Doesn't that mean she's evil?"

"No." He laughed. "No. She doesn't want to stop the story, she merely wants us to... to understand it better. Every time she cuts the heroes off from their parts of the story, their quest what happens?"

"They find another way."

"A better way. They see things they hadn't before, they add things to their plan they take things away. Don't you see? She is the reason the story is any good at all!" The writer gestured to the actress. "I think she knows our stories, our creativity better than we do... she challenges us to do better - be better, to achieve not just our measly little goals but to achieve the greatness we are so intimidated by!"

Tears stung your eyes when you both returned to the pier. Still you refused to look at Dream, refused to show him this weakness... and to have to admit that this was the nicest thing anyone had ever given you. "I was wrong to assume you meant the humans... the creators of this world harm. Because of you they find courage, the thing that idea alone cannot give. Your function forces them to face their worst fears, to separate them from what they believe is who they are... their life's work... and you make them find the courage to seek it out and make it better."

"If I didn't know any better I'd think this was a dream."

"I didn't think you had dreams," he said quietly. "I never thought to ask."

"I do." Immediately you shook your head at him. "Not how you're thinking."

"How then?"

"When I sleep I see misty figures on a vast plain of nothingness. There's nothing of substance in them, nothing really or imagined."

For a moment he was silent and then he turned to face you. "If you could go anywhere while you slept, where would it be?"

"Dream…"

"Tell me, and tonight it will be so."

You thought for a moment, turning your head away from his blistering gaze on you and up to the clouded sky you'd been doomed to stare at since the beginning of your existence. "The stars." It felt so foolish. "I would walk among the stars."

A glitter of sand swirled around you, a halo framing your head before it settled into a soft trickle, coating you in the soft tingly feeling of it. "Breathe, open your mind to me."

It was easier than you thought it would be, though you'd quickly written it off as your mind succumbing to Dream's power and not even entertaining the foolish notion that you'd trusted him. For a moment all you could see was darkness, but a cool breeze kissed your skin and a hand gently squeezed yours. "Open your eyes."

Nothing could have prepared you for what you would see when you did. Stars, endless shining stars of every size and shape, twinkled in the cosmic clouds. The ground beneath your feet was a reflective mirror of ice, glowing dimly beneath the ethereal sky. A shuddering breath left you as turned, looking in every direction as if the white mist and nothingness would be lurking around the corner. It was so beautiful.

For the first time in years you looked at him, his star filled eyes practically glowing here. He said nothing, simply holding his palm out to you, a blue stone sitting in the middle. It was then that it dawned on you... the stones from Destruction... "They were yours?"

"They were from my realm, but they were always yours." He frowned slightly. "If I had known that they died... This one will not fade, I assure you."

"Why are you doing this?"

Dreams eyes glistened with repressed tears. "Because you were right. I've been nothing but cruel to you... no better than Desire in making you feel lesser than us at every turn when you have simply done your duty as we do. I was wrong to write you off as an adversary and my actions against you that day... they are unforgivable."

You'd never heard Dream apologize before, and though he'd likely not do it fully you could feel his regret in the air between you. Taking the stone from his hand you looked at it closely, holding it carefully. "Thank you, for tonight, Dream."

"It is what you were owed." He answered. "If you wish it, from here on my gates are open to you."

You smiled, soft and hesitant, but you smiled. "I've not yet forgiven you... but I will not forget this, Dream of the Endless."

He bowed his head. "Goodbye, Lady Daunt. I hope to see you again soon."

"Goodbye, Dream Lord..."

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cowboysandpilots · 1 year

Text

For the Love of Hockey— Ch. 1

Disclaimer: I love hockey, and I love watching it, but I have absolutely no idea of the inner workings of the NHL, what it's like to play on a team or the rules and regulations of any hockey association. Please take everything I write in this fic with a grain of salt, as I've taken a lot of creative liberties to make the story work out as I want and have planned.

A/N- Hi, I'm so happy you're here. :) If you would like to support me and my writing, please remember to hit the reblog button, as Tumblr has no algorithm and likes (while appreciated) do nothing to get creators work seen. If you would like to support me further, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi. If you're curious about where your support would go, I'm currently at $80/$200 for my monthly groceries, so any support would go towards that. :)

Amazing hockey text divider was made by: @writercole ❤️ (If you have your Tumblr palette set on goth rave, it may be a little hard to see)

Bradley Bradshaw is a legacy player. His dad played hockey, both his uncles played hockey, and if he had any brothers, he's sure that they would've played too. It's not that he doesn't love the game; he does; it's just that he's under so much pressure, and he can never seem to live up to it. He plays it safe; he doesn't rush the puck or take illegal hits. He has a clean record with zero minutes in the penalty box, and he's very proud of that.

He may not be the best player, but he's got the best sportsmanship, and no matter what fans or reporters say, no one can take that away Until Hangman comes along. The man gets under his skin like no other. He's a cocky rookie, first year in the NHL and the talk of the town. He has no respect for the older players and no problems breaking the rules. He has more penalty minutes than any other rookie in the league, and somehow, people love him for it.

The first time that Bradley sees Jake's smug grin, it's on the TV. He doesn't know the kid, has never played against him, but the way he's boasting about the team he got drafted to and the way he's answering every reporter's questions like he's god's gift to hockey, has Bradley's blood boiling. He clicks off the TV and chucks his remote to the other side of his couch; he should go to bed; he's got training in the morning anyway.

Despite his best efforts, Bradley can't get to sleep. He gravitates toward his phone, which is what always happens, even though the blue light makes his tired eyes burn. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew that the internet would be full of praise, love and ridiculous fawning for the rookie whose teammates had dubbed 'Hangman; he still opens Twitter and scrolls through his feed. It's like he can't help it, and why he chose to focus on this asshole instead of sleep, he'll never know.

The morning practice, surprisingly, isn't hell, even though Bradley barely slept and has to listen to his teammates go on and on about Hangman.

"What do you think about the new guy, Roo?" Mickey asks once they're off the ice and all crowded in the locker room.

"Don't think about him at all," Bradley answers coolly, passing him to get to the showers;— That's a lie. He spent last night scowling at his phone. He had to stop doing that; he needed to focus on this year's season and helping his team make it to the Stanley Cup. What kind of captain would he be if he let some cocky rookie get to him? It wasn't even guaranteed that the two teams would play against each other.

As Bradley's terrible luck would have it, the media coverage and general hysteria about Jake "Hangman" Seresin only got worse. The kid could apparently do no wrong, which only made his insufferable ego so much bigger. It gets to the point where Bradley doesn't even watch TSN anymore because Jake's smugness is practically dripping through his flatscreen; it makes his skin burn.

By some sort of miracle, Bradley has three days of blissful silence. Well, silence from hearing about Hangman anyway. Three days off to travel and get settled into a new city for another away game where he bonds with his team, doesn't watch the news, and spends most of his time on the ice. It's amazing. It's the most calm Bradley has felt in his life.

Much to the dismay of their coach, part of the team's bonding consists of going out to drink. Bradley, as captain, makes the case to Iceman, their coach, who got and kept that nickname when he, himself, played in the NHL.

"C'mon Ice, it's called team building!" Bradley grins. It was true that the team was a lot looser and in better spirits after a night out as long as they kept themselves in check and made sure the hangovers wouldn't be too bad.

Ice couldn't help but sigh and shake his head. He knew all too well what a team could get up to on a night out. It's not that he didn't trust Bradley; he did. It was hard to say no to the kid, and it didn't help that he was his uncle. Or really, his Godfather but Bradley's been calling him uncle since he was a kid, of course not anymore, now it's 'Ice' or 'Coach' and sometimes when he's in trouble, it's 'Sir'. He guesses that's how none of the other players know, he's sure that they would give Bradley a hard time if they knew so it was always an unspoken rule that neither of them would say anything.

"You'll look after them, won't you? Make sure that no one gets too drunk and nothing happens to your team?" Ice always calls the team Bradley's team, always emphasizes it when he's talking about being a role model. That's what the captain's for for everyone else to look up to, but Bradley had to admit that it was a little draining. Sometimes, he wanted to let loose like the rest of them.

Bradley nods. As always, he'll make sure that nothing gets broken, bones or otherwise, and no one gets arrested. "I'll make sure." He nods dutifully.

The day goes by in a blur after that, and when he gets back to his hotel room, Bradley takes a much-needed shower. He almost collapses into his bed with just the damp towel around his hips, but not before there's a knock on his hotel door. He pulls on his briefs, a nice pair of jeans and runs his fingers through his curls before he walks up to the door and pulls it open. The person who is standing on the other side is not to he expects.

"Hey, Bob." He offers easily.

The man makes no attempt to hide the fact that he's looking Bradley up and down but not in the way of checking him out, more like the way he's judging Bradley, buttoning up his Hawaiian shirt. "Are you wearing that to the bar?"

"I was planning on it. Why, what's wrong with it?"

"Nothing, just... you want to meet girls, right?" Bob gives a small and teasing smile. He has a way of making jokes that are just on the edge of mean but somehow never make Bradley angry.

"Ha-ha," He huffs sarcastically. "I can't be a designated driver if I leave with a girl, now can I?" Bradley has to admit that he would like to meet someone, but it wasn't really on the top of his priority list.

The bar is much too loud and crowded for a sober Bradley. The sound of the bass buzzes behind his eyes, and it makes him want to slip his sunglasses on, but there are only two types of people who wear sunglasses inside, blind people and douchebags. Bradley was neither.

He was making his way back to the bar for a second round at his teammate's request when he was knocked into. He doesn't exactly know what happened, but he knows he wasn't carrying a drink, so why is his shirt all wet? "Fuck." He grunts, looking down to assess the damage.

"What the hell, man? You know you owe me a drink." The voice is accusatory, like the entire thing was Bradley's fault and not the guy whose words are slurring enough; he probably didn't need that drink anyway.

Bradley looks up, lips parted, ready to tell the asshole off, except he recognizes that asshole; it's the same one who's been lighting up his TV screen and making him roll his eyes so much he's surprised they're not stuck. Jake Seresin.

A/N- Thanks so much for reading! Right now, this fic is looking like it's gonna have at least 10 chapters, and because I'm a crazy person, I've already started outlining a sequel. Lol until next time, friends. 💕

Tagging people who said they were interested: @cryinginthebronco @jojobeaner @rigmarole-07 @agent-elle @nerdygirl1234 @milobyelo @callsign-crow @itshoneywhatever @flowersonmymind1016 @seresinning @bloodanddiamonds

#hangster #sereshaw #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun: maverick #top gun #top gun maverick #hangster fic #hangster fanfiction #tgm #rooster x hangman #hangster AU #tgm fanfiction #tgm fic #my writing

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