So welcome to my blog! The best description for it is its essentially that moment from Lilo and Stitch where Stitch is like “its small and broken but still good” lol but please feel free to pop in and say hi any time!
In case anyone ever happens to be curious I do make various graphics, they can almost all be found under “#kee’s moodboards” if you ever want to check the out! I also do collections which I will link below!
Red Taylor’s Version
Disney
Top Gun Fics
TGM Books I Read in School
I am also very lucky to have gotten to work on some amazing banners, headers, etc. for some of your favorite fics including When Life Gives You Lemons by horsesandhockeyplayers and many fics in princessphilly’s All Bets Are Off universe! If you are ever interested in a banner, headers or mood boards please reach out! I love getting to work on new projects and will essentially always jump at the chance!
Okay thanks for visiting and reading and I hope you have a great day! Bye!
Also if it wasn’t clear I’m like so early in the timeline here lmao
3
You remembered Frank Vatrano. He had only been with the Rangers for a few months but Jacob tried treat everyone, new or old, as an equal part of the team. He’d been a dinners and bbqs and seemed nice enough, had gotten along with everyone, maybe was a bit of a gossip.
But you remembered his eyes, the way they followed you hungrily. It was never malicious, never something that made you uncomfortable, hell you probably would have been interested yourself not so long ago. But now you had Jacob.
Jacob who had been grateful for Chris’s support and friendship but still couldn’t help the way he became a little territorial those last few days you’d been in New York. Jacob who you dropped out of the pool for without a second thought without him asking. Jacob who had taken you with him to Anaheim. Jacob who had already done unspeakable things to you in your bedroom but still blushed and stuttered when he asked you if he could take you on a date when you reached California.
The thing about Anaheim though is that it’s smaller than New York. A lot smaller almost a tenth of the size to be exact. So yes, you remembered Frank Vatrano when you ran into him at the coffee shop a few blocks from your new home. You remembered his eyes that were just as hungry, but now seemed to gleam at the opportunity in front of him.
You can’t exactly blame Frank for trying, it’s not like he knew any better. As far as he was aware, you didn’t belong to a captain and that made you free game. And really, his flirting was in a respectful manner, far better than you’d heard previously from less savory players. But almost losing you to Chris through the rules of your contract (having lost you to Chris would be the more accurate statement if it were for Chris’s sensibility) had left Jacob a little sensitive. So when you watched the color drain from Frank’s face, you knew Jacob was approaching and that he wasn’t happy with what he had seen.
His warm body pressed into your back as he handed you a to go cup, his voice tight as he greeted Frank. It was a surprise to you though when Jacob’s now free hand landed on your shoulder rather than around your waist, letting his fingers fidget with the chain of your necklace. Maybe he’s getting over it you mused to yourself through the men’s stilted exchange.
It wasn’t until well after you had gotten home and stripped you bare in front of the mirror in your new bedroom that you realized just how wrong you were. He hadn’t just been fidgeting with the necklace, he’d twisted the chain around your neck until the clasp was sitting in the center of your chest.
Now he stood behind you, cock stretching you wide and one hand around your neck, not squeezing, just holding firm and possessive as the other came up toy with the J charm dangling from the clasp.
You're tucked into a booth together an hour later, checking out what kind of late-night scene is in Anaheim. In New York, you loved to go out with your chest still bathed in afterglow, recuperating energy in the form of one a.m. tapas and just enjoying each other's company. There aren't as many options here, particularly on weekdays, but the salmon rillettes in this industrial-chic lounge are delicious, the jungle of plants and dim lighting make it feel cozy, and the noise level is a perfect buzz.
"You love this necklace," you say. "You love seeing your initial around my neck. You haven't given up on having the right to me."
He has the decency to blush. "Maybe." His voice hitches a little in the back of his throat, the way it always does when he's caught off guard or a little uncomfortable, and it occurs to you that you know him well enough to know these tiny little tics. It fills you with a warmth that has nothing to do with the wine.
You reach for him. "I like it too. I love being yours, and I love broadcasting it. So why are we hiding this itty-bitty little initial all the way at the nape of my neck? Who's looking there? You had to twist it all the way around for Frankie to notice it this morning."
Jacob laughs, some of the tension releasing. "He was too goddamn interested," he says with an easy smile. "We have been friends for a hell of a long time. I'd hate for that to change because he said something disrespectful to you. I wanted to remind him you were under my protection."
"He doesn't strike me as the dangerous type."
"No. Not at all. And he's a good guy. He can just be kind of crass sometimes."
"And no one's allowed to talk to me in a crass way."
"Of course not." He polishes off a cracker and switches back to the fries.
"Unless it's you telling me to get on my knees and worship your dick like a good girl." You smirk at him from behind your glass of wine.
"That's not crass," he argues with a grin. "That's divine guidance."
You want to pelt him with a fry, but refrain in the name of decorum.
-----
That night, you leave your necklace on as you crawl into bed with him. He toys with it while he kisses you, the soft and languorous kisses that always precede sleep now. "Mine," he whispers against your lips, and you smile against his.
"Yours," you whisper past his lips.
He takes your hand and wraps it around his waist. "Yours," he says, his voice weighty with meaning, and you realize you've felt for some time the equal sense of belonging-- but that this is maybe the first time it's been voiced.
You squeeze his waist. "Mine."
He melts against you and kisses you again. "I'm so happy you're here with me."
There are so many quips you could fire back at him which would be appropriate for your usual teasing, but you can't bring yourself to shatter the moment. "There's nowhere I'd rather be," you tell him, and you mean every word.
-----
A few days later, he has a rectangular velvet box for you.
Inside is a delicate gold chain with a little letter J in diamonds: small enough for an everyday necklace, but noticeable enough so that it will be seen. "It's beautiful," you say. "But I can't put it on."
"Why not?" Immediately, he's concerned. "Is it too--"
"You have to put it on me," you say, interrupting him.
You sit down and bow your head reverently for him, forehead pressed against his pelvis, and you know it's a tease. He takes the necklace from its box and clasps it around your neck, then tips your chin up and kisses you. He adjusts the pendant so it sits right at your throat. "Perfect."
It becomes a ritual, the clasping and unclasping of the necklace. You never want to be allowed to put it on or remove it-- it marks you as his, and you want him to be the one who does it. It's just like a collar, you think, but a little more socially acceptable to wear daily. You love bowing your head to him every morning, taking a few moments to live in this beautiful little ritual you've created together.
In the tiniest back corner of his mind, he imagines-- one day-- he'll be able to give you a much more traditional symbol. One for your finger. That's a long ways off, though.
And he doubts he'll ever want to stop this necklace ritual-- even then.
Part of you felt completely ridiculous. Jacob created real art, good art, the kind of art that sold for hundreds of thousands of dollars. And here you were giving him a craft you’d made after seeing the idea on social media. At the time, the phrase “art for your new art studio” had been funny, but now that he was opening the card you had regrets.
Jacob’s chuckle at it made you feel lighter, but you still couldn’t help the embarrassed heat that was spreading across your face as he started carefully pulling the paper off of the cheap canvas you’d picked up from the craft store. He’d painted you before, painted on you before even, but this was a little bit different. Similar to his own art in a way, you’d covered yourself in paint before sitting on the canvas. You’d cleaned up a few lines and filled in a few patches, but the only real edit you’d made to the imprint was the heart you’d placed where your thigh met your ass. The spot he made sure to kiss at least once a night.
i think that would heal my leg actually
"I ordered Stuart Semple's Kleinish Blue paint to do it," you tell him. "An homage to your original inspiration. Just to be clear that this shade of blue is not to do with your former team."
He laughed. "There's just one problem with hanging this in my studio."
Your heart sank. "Yeah?"
"It's going to distract me. I'm going to see it and have to come find you immediately. It makes me want to find that spot."
You loop your arms around his neck playfully. "So find it."
You're wearing loose, flowy shorts, so when he puts you on the floor and pushes your feet into the air, his lips easily can reach it. As he so often does, he just keeps going, moving across your body until he's tugging fabric to the side, getting his tongue involved, drawing out sighs and little cries that are amplified in the sparse space.
The first mess made in his art studio, then, has nothing to do with paint at all.
You couldn’t blame the man behind you in the Starbucks line that morning, he had no idea who you were. Really it was your fault for listening to his phone call, but it certainly wasn’t what you thought he would say when he started ragging on Drury.
“Did you hear they traded Trouba?”
The rest of it only came to you in bits and pieces.
Done deal. Midseason. Captain. Traded.
You felt dazed as you stepped out of the line, finger tips going numb and the sound around you fading out. A little deliriously you couldn’t help but wonder if this is what Greys Anatomy meant all those times they said a patient was in shock. An completely innocuous question, but it opened the flood gates for the rest.
Did he know?
Where was he going?
Did he want the trade?
What about his life here?
Did he want you to go with him?
Why didn’t he tell you?
Did he not want you to go with him?
The vibrations of your phone pulled you out of your head and you realized you had managed to make it back to your apartment in your daze. The apartment you had insisted on keeping despite how frequently you stayed in his. The apartment you pretended you didn’t know he was paying for when you ignored the way your rent didn’t leave your bank account each month.
You couldn’t help but cringe a little at how watery your laugh was when you saw his name on your screen. A handful of texts with words that went blurry before you could read them when you saw the Zillow link at the bottom.
——
You didn’t know what deal Jacob had worked out to keep his C and keep you beyond the year you were supposed to be there, but you were sure it had cost him a pretty penny. Your “position” had afforded you a salary and access to road trips that neither of you wanted to give up, so it had seemed like a blessing at the time when the deal was concocted. But now it looked like a waste as his captaincy was stripped from him in the same breath his trade was announced.
Seeing Kreid’s face posted on Instagram announced almost immediately as the new captain felt hollow in a way you didn’t expect. You knew it wasn’t the media team’s fault, but how they could so carelessly post it just minutes after their farewell to Jacob you’d never know. Still, you were happy for Chris all the same, he had worked hard and had earned it long ago.
It didn’t really sink in what Chris’s captaincy meant until your doom scrolling was interrupted by his call. By all the rules you were his now, not Jacob’s. It was a position you would have begged for not so long ago, but now the thought made you sick to your stomach. It was a part of the deal though, whether you wanted to or not you had to answer Chris’s call. You suddenly regretted allowing yourself this hour to process before opening Jacob’s still unread texts.
He’s a good man you thought to yourself, but it did nothing to quell the shaking of your fingers or quiver in your voice as you answered. “Chris I don’t know if I can-“
“Listen, I know I’m being direct here but things are moving very fast on our end and I don’t know exactly how fast they move on your end so I want to make sure we’re clear,” the tone of his interruption was firm and your sharp intake of breath was the only sign you were listening “Whatever rights to you that I’m afforded as captain are completely null and void in my eyes. You’re Trouba’s with or without the C until you decide otherwise.”
Your shoulders dropped immediately. A good man you repeated to yourself. “I don’t even know what to say, thank you” was all you managed to put together as you once again cringed at the tears welling up in your eyes. Only 11 am and it had already been such a day.
Chris laughed a bit and brushed it off, excuses of already being satisfied and being good friends rolling off his tongue before the call lulled to a silence.
“So…are you excited to move to Anaheim?”
*cracks knuckles* let's GOOOOOOOOOO
Move to Anaheim. You hadn't even opened the Zillow link to see the house he sent yet. The city had barely registered in your brain. "I don't know. I-- I mean I'm used to moving around. I hated the Texas heat..."
"...to be fair," Chris sang out in a Letterkenny affect, making you laugh, "you'll have much better company in Anaheim than you did in Dallas, and beaches and palm trees sound much better than cowboy hats and shit-kicking."
You nodded. "You know," you said, the words tumbling out before you could judge whether it was a good idea to say them, "I wanted to come to New York so badly in the beginning. I thought it was going to be you."
You could almost hear the smile at the other end. "I know. But can I tell you something? It was offered to me."
"Why didn't you take it?"
There was a moment of silence. "You'd understand if you'd have seen Mika's face when they said they wanted to name me captain. We'd been dancing around it for goddamn years at that point, but that was the shove he needed to finally say something."
"You let them give it to you now, though?"
"Well, sure. We've been with each other for a while now. We're fairly open. Sometimes it's fun to invite a third." You heard the cheeky smile in his voice.
You laughed. "It all worked out in the end, then. You turning down that C was probably the best thing that happened to me and Mika. And you, too."
"And Troubs," he said meaningfully, and you turned that over in your brain for a moment. "Life has a weird way of making things turn out. So maybe Anaheim won't be so bad at all."
After hanging up with Chris, you went back to your texts.
9:20: Can't call-- in a meeting with front office-- getting traded. Totally blindsided. Press heard about it before I did.
9:23: Anaheim.
9:38: You're probably busy at work but call when you see this.
10:14: half an hour to Honda Center and also the practice rink. what do you think?
You dialed his number immediately and he picked up after what seemed like half a ring.
"Jacob--"
"Come with me," he said. "I want you to come with me."
Tears welled in your eyes again. "I was so afraid you wouldn't want me to."
"Oh, my God." The relief in his voice was palpable. "The worst part of the whole goddamn morning was wondering if I'd have you after this bullshit. I knew that you had wanted Chris and they almost immediately announced that and--"
"All I want is you. Even if that means moving to fucking California."
He laughed. "Spoken like a true Northerner. What do you think about the house? I thought of turning one of the rooms into an art studio. There's some other things I want to change too, but it's got that huge closet for you, and it's so close to the beach..."
"Jacob," you say, "if there's anything I'm sure of, it's that you're very good at making things yours."
hiii, you sent me an ask asking my thoughts on johnny and a woman with oldest daughter syndrome but im not a writer so maybe you mistook me for someone else? or maybe you did mean to send it to me and if thats the case, im sorry to disappoint you but idk the cod characters enough to share my thoughts on scenarios😅
maybe send it to someone else who understands them better bc now i’m also curious hihi
-signed an eldest daughter
Okay it took me forever to figure out what happened but I realized I saw an ask that you sent @quarterlifekitty about Gaz and eldest girl syndrome and in my head I sent it to them but I’m sure I was like half asleep and sent it to you instead lol anyways I wouldn’t really call myself a writer either but i was in a mood so I gave it a shot (If anyone else wants to do it tho PLS be my guest). Fair warning it turned into me just kinda rambling and I don’t think it makes much sense but 🤷🏼♀️ here we go
John Soap MacTavish dating someone with eldest daughter syndrome is a bit like a black cat/golden retriever relationship, at least at the start. When you first meet him out at the pub with friends, he seems loud and rambunctious and generally just kind of a lot. He’s still intriguing in the way that he’s handsome and funny and so stupidly broad, but you really don’t have time to be taking care of a man child right now so you write him off. Besides, you can be a little standoffish at first. Friendly and not meaning to be rude of course, but caught up in all that is being an eldest daughter. It just doesn’t seem like a match.
But then it’s time to switch bars and you catch him doing a head count just as you do yours. And then you see him keep your too drunk friend from straying off the sidewalk and into traffic before you can grab her. And then you’re laughing at a story he tells and realize he’s using his boisterous, exaggerated gestures to keep roudy strangers from encroaching on the corner your friends had claimed without boxing anyone in. Still, you brush it all off, it’s hard to do your rounds of caring for your friends and enjoying your night at the same time, and you don’t have the capacity for another train of thought.
And then the night is over and before you even realize it, everyone else is gone. You had been at the bar closing everyone’s tabs and mentally preparing for the ordeal of making sure everyone gets home and by the time you turned around everyone had just disappeared. Everyone but Johnny.
It was panic at first, worried they were off getting themselves in trouble or were headed to the wrong places, but he was quick to calm you. Everyone was already on their way to their homes, tucked safely into their respective taxis with a travel buddy for the night. You could feel your shoulders physically drop as they lost tension and all you could do was let out a little “oh”.
Johnny decided that he quite liked it when you looked like that, equal parts shocked and relieved and maybe just a little bit dumbstruck. He liked the way the stress draining from your body made you sway a bit towards him. He especially liked the way your eyes looked up at him, the question ‘what now?’ sitting on the tip of your tongue.
You’re not there yet though, you both know that. Too many times that the ball has been dropped or the plans have been ruined or the day has ended in tears exist in your past for you to just give it all up that easy. But that’s okay. Johnny is a steady man, he can be patient. He had to be to slip behind Ghost’s walls, he can do the same for you.
So he’ll keep taking care of your friends until you let him in just a little bit more and then he’ll start taking care of you. He makes reservations, plans days out, and thinks ahead for any weather disasters. He helps you keep tidy, never sitting whenever you are working and never makes you ask him to do anything, just does what he sees needs to be done. He spoils you when your out, buys you the necklace you look at for too long and sets up a now permanent vase on your kitchen counter for flowers he buys you every week.
Don’t get me wrong, there are some growing pains along the way. Regardless of how exhausted and stressed you may be, you’re used to the thinking and worrying and being in charge and change can be hard. It makes you suspicious at first, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Then nervous, not entirely comfortable with not always feeling like you’re the one in control. But Johnny is patient with you. Every time you push back, he gives - regardless of the plans he made or how closely you toe the line of being bratty. You feel a bit bad about it in the long run, but he respects your need to test him that way, knows what it’s like to have to work to earn someone’s trust. It just makes that moment when you finally trust him all that much sweeter.
Having pretty, smart, accomplished you hang off his arm without a worry in your head and looking up at him with those big eyes asking “what now?” is everything he could have asked for. You may try and care for everyone else, but he’s the one who you run back to every time. Who makes you laugh on the hardest of days. Who you trust to take care of your shared home. Who you cuddle into like a purring cat at night. Who you ask to turn your brain off after a long day. Who gives you all of the praise your heart desires.
And suddenly people start to think that maybe the black cat is friendlier than she seemed. And maybe that golden retriever was a bit more protective and caring than they thought. But by the time that happens there’s already a ring on your finger.
anyways (I say this as someone who is deeply critical of the united states government, military, unchecked capitalism, police, etc) I am SICK of people treating america as if it has no cultural value or positives so….. I love u 85 million acres (bigger than italy) of national parks. I love u harlem renaissance. I love u groundhogs day. I love u sweet tea and fried chicken and jambalaya. I love u apple cider donuts and maizes on crisp autumn days. I love u 95k miles of coastlines and new england fisherman and hand knitted sweaters. I love u halloween where millions of people dress up and give candy to strangers and carve jack o’lanterns. I love u small talk and small towns and potlucks and bringing over casseroles to your struggling neighbors. I love u cowboys and ranch hands and arizonian cactus. I love u appalachian trail and dirtbikes and divebars. I love u sparklers and fireflies. I love u mark twain and toni morrison and emily dickinson and henry david thoreau. I love u rock n roll i love u bluegrass and hippies i love u jimi hendrix and nirvana and CCR and janis joplin. I love u victorian houses and jonny appleseed and john henry and mothman and bigfoot. I love u foggy days in the pacific northwest and neon signs and roadside attractions. I love u baseball and 1950s diners and soft serve. I love u native american art and pop art and poptarts. I love u blue jeans and barbecues and jazz musicians
Simon would see some mom fretting over price tags in the grocery store.
Watching your internal debate before you finally sigh, putting back the single-wick candle and the single sheet face mask in favor of the teddy your little one spotted.
He’d watch you smile at your little mini in the cart, the love as evident on your face as the bags are under your eyes. Also the ring missing from your finger.
He’d linger, trailing behind you as he checks off his own list, a single finger wiggling in a wave to the toddler facing him.
He makes it to the register first, his basket full. You get annoyed, you with your 10 items, waiting for him to finish up. Annoyance swapped out by surprise and sadness when you watch the items get rung up.
Among the basic household necessities is a tall, three-wick candle - your favorite scent. A tub of a proper clay mask, something you know would leave your skin feeling smooth and refreshed. A bottle of wine. Flowers. A book. The one you couldn’t help but run your fingers over the cover, a promise of some day ringing through your head.
You’re feeling a little bit sorry for yourself and a little bit grateful that at least someone out there is going to be surprised and spoiled by this handsome man. You wouldn’t have expected him to be the type just looking at him, but the gentle way he places the items in the paper bag, a slight smile on his face, you know he’s imagining the look of gratitude and joy when he gets to present this gift, to show them how much he cares.
You are, in fact, quite surprised when the man approaches you as you load your car, pushing the flowers into your hands before setting the rest of his bags in your trunk.
“There’s a number in there, call me next time you need a reminder.”
Still holding the flowers, still shocked and confused, you’d ask “a reminder of what?”
Life is crazy for you but know that I am so, so proud of your tenacity and strength. You are loved!
🥹☺️ needed this one 🩷 have to take a lot of bug cumulative exams this semester that were starting to freak me out so this was a blessing! Love ya long time girl 🫶🏻
Bestie boo have we considered, and hear me out on this, Simon Ghost Riley in all his terrifying glareiness is the mom dad of an entire feral cat colony that he feeds religiously, does catch/spay/release programs with, deworms meticulously, and pays his neighbor a small fortune to care for every time he’s deployed
I have spent a few days considering this now (sorry about that!!) and yes you are so very right
But I can’t decide if the aforementioned neighbor is
A.)
an elderly woman who expects a detailed check-in from Simon each time he comes home, and who gives him an itemized report of what his babes have been up to while he was away.
Or B.)
a bright, pretty thing who frets over the kitties’ nipped ears, and claw marks with the same serious and delicate concern as Simon’s bullet wounds and night terrors.
Brilliance everytime you spark so many thoughts I love to see it
I offer you little elderly woman who has lived next door to Simon for nearly a decade. He takes out her trash bins and she force feeds him and it’s an almost snippy relationship, she gives as good as she gets and still surprises Simon with her sass and threats of a smack upside the head if he doesn’t some see her as soon as he’s home but there’s a lot of care there and they’re very tightly bonded over the cats in their shared custody.
But time catches up to all of us, and while Simon was away poor Granny tripped on her stoop after feeding the cats and had a bit of a fall. Nothing too bad, just a few bruises and maybe a fractured wrist for the ✨drama✨ so naturally her family decides it maybe be best someone move back home to keep an eye on her lest something go horribly wrong.
When he wakes the morning after coming home, Simon immediately gets up and steps out into his little back garden in nothing but some grey sweatpants and the few bruises and bloody bandages that Granny normally pokes fun of to hide her worry. Imagine his surprise when he finds her darling granddaughter out there instead, fresh out of nursing school and trying to coax a kitten within reach with a tin of food so she can pull a thorn out of its paw. Imagine his surprise when instead of being scared of the brute staring at her, she’s pulling him into the kitchen and changing his bandages her self. But the dry joke granny made over tea and eggs about it being easier to just let her fuss? That didn’t surprise him at all
I’m a slut for sitting in comfortable silence while both of us do our own thing and occasionally show each other something dumb on our computers like that’s the good shit my dude.
This is how I feel about Joshua Trees. They and avocado trees produce fruit meant to be eaten and dispersed by giant ground sloths. Without them, the Joshua Trees' range has shrunk by 90%.
(my own photos)
Not only they, but the entire Mojave ecosystem is still struggling to adapt since the loss of ground sloth dung. their chief fertilizer.
Many, many trees and plants in the Americas have widely-spaced, extremely long thorns that do nothing to discourage deer eating their leaves, but would've penetrated the fur of ground sloths and mammoths. Likewise, if you've observed a tree that drops baseball or softball-sized fruit which lies on the ground and rots, like Osage Oranges, which were great for playing catch at my school, chances are they were ground sloth or mammoth chow.
You can read about various orphaned plants and trees missing their megafauna in this poignant post:
Trees that once depended on animals like the wooly mammoth for survival have managed to adapt and survive in the modern world.
