#Snow Talks Talks✨

[lovable-chica]

New Info Post!

•☆Hi there, My Name is Snowy! or Just call me Snow and Snowdrop. I don��t mind just Snowy though lol.

•☆I also go by She/Her/They.

•☆I’m American and 100% have Autism!

•☆I like The Ice Age Movies, Social Media, Art, Videos, Lions and Food.

•☆Art Request/Writing? Art Requests and Asks are currently open just don’t spam and you’ll be blocked instantly.

•☆If you use my OCs character as a gift or art trade it’s fine by me just don’t steal my art or I’ll report you.

My Socials Plus Interest!

•☆I have on Deviantart, YouTube, Twitter and Instagram but I’m currently on Tumblr Here.

•☆My Current Interest is TTTE, Ice Age, Minecraft, Roblox and Animal Crossing and Kirby that’s pretty much it.

Tags!🐾

•☆Snowy Talking Stuff🎀🌈 (Me Gabbling About Something)

•☆Snowy Reblogs🎀🌈(When Rebloging)

•☆Snowy’s Art✏️ (I Show My Art to You)

•Snow Talks Talks✨ (I Talk About Simple Things)

[mentallyunstablethembo]

(this is a Shen Yuan-centric fic, it is the prologue (?) to an au that I'm working on! Thank you and I hope you enjoy!)

This starts like any other story.

Shen Yuan was born apart of a wealthy family, with loving, yet very busy parents, two older brothers and one little sister.

However, ever since he came out of the womb, he was weak and sick, his little soul already struggling to stay alive.

His heart was weaker than that of all of the other children, his lungs making it harder to breathe properly, his immune system struggling to keep up as his body rots and decays like a fresh carcass.

But none of that ever stopped him. He always did what he wanted, his weak body letting him have a lot of free time to do whatever caught his attention that day, his mind and hands usually occupied with something to do.

Shen Yuan was a bit of a loner, but that was fine by him, for he had everything that he ever wanted, that is, his siblings of course.

From the day he was born, his brothers always tried their best to be by his side, helping to raise him and spend time with him while their parents were busy with all of their work.

And ever since their little sister was born, Shen Yuan did the same for her as his brothers did for him.

Life was tough, but he did all that he could while constantly going in and out of the hospital, his passion for his interests only growing stronger.

He learned to play the guqin so that he and his erge could play sweet melodies together, sharing memories of wondrous songs and lullabies to soothe their souls.

He and his dage would then spend time together by playing different games such as weiqi, or 'go', as some people reffered to it. But they also enjoyed playing card games, especially uno, as Shen Yuan enjoyed the thrill of beating his siblings in the game, the satisfaction that he felt as he watched his siblings' distraught faces almost like a sweet nectar to his taste buds, it was simply addicting.

But it was with his meimei that he spent hours reading books and chattering about mundane things.

And it was also because of her and his erge that he picked up drawing and writing along the way as well, as he sought ways to bring their favorite things and ideas to life.

He loved his family dearly, and it was with their support and passion for his interests that he chose to study hard and become a literature teacher.

And he loved it too!

Teaching the next generation of students made him feel fullfilled, like he found his one and only purpose. And the kiddos loved him too.

Sure, he was a bit strict, and boy did he leave scathing reviews and seas of red on student essays, but it was fine!

They were high schoolers, they could handle it!

He taught them for a few years, the students loving him for his curious and excited personality, the way he at times was giddy to teach them new things in the most fun and interesting ways possible, with his classroom feeling comforting and fun due to his decor.

He adored teaching, and he adored the kids as well! And the kids adored him in turn. He wanted to teach for as long as he could.

Until he couldn't anymore.

The pain was all too much. His health was fine and stable enough for the past few years, and sure, there were a few times here and there when something happened, but other than that he was fine!

His decline in health was so sudden and unexpected, nobody could've seen it coming even if they wanted to.

One moment he was fine, teaching the kids like he normally would, and the next he suddenly blacked out as his body hit the floor.

He was suddenly stuck in the hospital again, constantly going in and out while his family tried to be there for him, everyone afraid of what was going to happen next.

By this time, Shen Yuan found the webnovel 'Proud Immortal Demon's Way'.

Curious, he decided to give the book a try, and stars did he fall in love with the story.

That is... Only the beginning.

The rest could burn.

Along with all of the nonsense the author put into it.

The story was good at the start, the world-building, fauna and interesting monsters being what pulled him in, until... It.. kind of spiraled out of control..?

Almost as if the author suddenly decided to say 'fuck it' and shoved his dick into the story, fucking up everything and making sure that all of it was coated in a nice sticky layer of nonsense and papapa scenes, destroying all that he ever created.

Shen Yuan did in fact leave scathing reviews on every chapter, yet also decided that he was bored enough to look closely through the story for any interesting lore, fauna or monsters, cataloging everything he found on the wiki, since that was what originally pulled him in.

He did have all the tine he could ever want, after all.

This journey took a while as well, so when the story finally finished, Shen Yuan felt a little bitter, upset at the way it ended while also deciding to just take a break finally.

... Only for the infamous author, also known as 'airplane shooting towards the sky' (a bit of a childish name, but who was he to judge?), decided to post all of his actual drafts, showcasing the backstories, all the peak lords, scrapped ideas and characters, places, and so much lore!

Shen Yuan wanted to print all of these drafts out, take aitplane out on a nice hang out session and then shove these pages down his throat. Or maybe just hit him with them. Repeatedly. On the head. Mainly so that his braincells that decided to each go their own seperate ways like a couple after a terrible divorce could come back together, because the other one 'changed' and they're 'doing it for the kids', and then hopefully beat the crap out of his non-existent pea brain. Maybe then would the author finally have a light light up in his head.

But of course, life hates Shen Yuan and so it decides to attempt its try at his heart, only to trip onto a panel of glass, shattering it as it failed miserably, because of course he would survive because his sister found him in time!

I would say 'good for him that he survived and avoided his death!', but Shen Yuan was, understandably so, very tired of life's bullshit.

He didn't go back to his home anymore, his condition so bad that he could only stay at the hospital.

His family visited him as much as they could, his sister always coming to visit after school so that she could hang out with him (and maybe get some help on her homework).

His erge would come by and stay for hours, the two would usually talk about the most mundane things, to their deepest wishes and most biggest regrets. They would talk about the future, if there were past lives, anything that crossed their minds as nothing was left unsaid between them. That is, until Shen Yuan's erge had to leave.

His dage would also come and visit him, usually spending their time together in comfortable silence, playing games or just watching movies together.

However, ever since Shen Yuan was little, there was always one thing that he liked the most about these horrendous situations.

He loved when his family would climb into the bed with him, whether it be his mother, sister or any of his brothers. But over the years, Shen Yuan thinks that his most favorite visits are with his father.

The man was always quiet, cold and distant to everyone, but so very gentle it sometimes ached Shen Yuan's heart. His father tried his best, tried everything and anything to ease the burdens that Shen Yuan had to carry, he did everything he could just like Shen Yuan's mother, but that wasn't why he adored the visits from his father.

Through the whole visit, his father would always hold his hand, listening as Shen Yuan talked about anything. And when Shen Yuan asked, he would also climb into the bed, his strong arms embracing his weak, yet so very soft child of his.

He would stay there for hours, as Shen Yuan's head rested on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

In the end, however, it wouldn't be his father, or his mother, that would see Shen Yuan off.

His erge, his dear, beloved erge, would be the one to do so.

Shen Yuan was feeling so weak, so tired, as he was barely holding on, yet he still kept going for his family. It was one of those days where his erge would come and visit, but this time, he held a solemn expression when he looked at Shen Yuan.

Without a word, he quietly climbed into the bed with his little brother, holding him close as Shen Yuan's head rested on his chest, his fingers carding through his hair, careful to not tug on any of the tubes, cables or wires.

"You can go now", spoke his brother softly, tears slowly gathering in his eyes as he continued to pet his little brother's hair. "I'll take care of everyone, you can rest now."

And it was in this peaceful moment that Shen Yuan closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, never to wake up as he was wrapped in the gentle hold of his brother.

His sould drifted away, finally going to sleep.

Or so he thought, but that is a story for the next time.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Author's note: this is for an au that I'm currently working on, it is only the start of the story and I really hope to write more for it! Hopefully...

Please keep in mind that I rarely write! This is my first time writing after like, what, at least a year or two? And even then, they were very short things that never saw the light of day, and were only shared with friends on discord.

I write only for fun, I do not write to be perfect or have the top writing style, and I quite don't care either! This is all only for fun and because I like it, so please keep this in mind!

My writing is not perfect and there will definitely be spelling errors, as english is not my 1st language and no matter how many times I re-read this, I still tend to miss said spelling errors-

With love,

- Onyx

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[capricioussun]

☀️ and Boss, if you're still taking these?

Ya ya, always happy to ramble abt my guys <3

☀️ (sun) - What’s your character like at their best?

Hmmm, a very interesting one for Boss. I swear I'm not trying to be pedantic, but that largely depends on definition of 'best'. His idea of best? Snare's? Morally? Happiest?

I guess, in a general like, daily life sense, when all is going well and he’s at the top of his game, he's very...relaxed, seeming. Everything in his life is sort of like clockwork, it's down to a science, everything in its place how it should be, his own role etched out perfectly for him to step into.

With everything functioning so smoothly, he'd just go about business as usual, but he'd have a flow about him. Casual almost, calm, a little charming. He keeps up on work, exercise, socializing, "sleep", incredibly efficient and seemingly unfazed by any roadblocks that arise.

Really, he’s an unemotional guy, and that sort of 'just right' contentment is predominately what he and Snare strive for. Conflict or unexpected changes are just a headache more than anything, and it's especially a pain in his neck when it's a big enough deal he has to handle it publicly.

At his best, he’s unfailingly efficient, levelheaded, and well kempt.

But that's far from his own idea of best, and even farther still from his happiest. He’s incredibly smart, for better and for worse, and that means he gets bored very incredibly easily. That clashes pretty hard with being a mob boss though, because the only place he can channel it is work, and they're not usually the ones who stir up trouble of their own volition, never mind he wouldn't enjoy that anyway.

Snare keeps that in check, being the main plan guy and all, and Boss has definitely gotten a better handle on it as he's gotten older, but this poor dude is like a captive tiger pacing his enclosure. The guy needs some enrichment. That isn't crime.

[foresttdreams]

bosbas is snow’s story but lucy gray is the only thing we all focus on and snow would hate that

lucy gray is now a folktale in both her world and ours and i love that

[katnissmellarkkk]

now in no way am i saying i think snow and lucy are a decent ship but i do need people to understand that there was a movie literally where they are the main characters and their relationship is one of two centerfolds in the story.

whenever i see people complaining that a decent amount of fans prefer it to gale/katniss i get really confused because of course they do? people naturally like relationships that are given attention in a movie they enjoy? gale/katniss were given nowhere near the amount of screentime or development lucy gray and snow were so???? of course?

[eightspringdays]

I picked up my wip after like two weeks and I can see all the things I need to fix but the main question is still in the air. Do I add this softcore scene even if the contribution to the plot is like. 10%? Maybe less? Or I just take it out even when I really really like it... ª 😔🔫

[moonchild-in-blue]

Sometimes all you need is a good ol' coffee shop au tbh.

[flufflecat]

Guess who got into a fucking car accident

[an-albino-pinetree]

hhh I went for a walk down the hill and it snowed directly on me for 5 minutes and then fucked off immediately sdjgj

[diamondsheep]

Groundhogs Day actually originated from german immigrants and their folklore :D. It was originally supposed to be done with a hedgehog, but there’s no hedgehogs in north America so they used groundhogs. Basically, the idea is that you bring a groundhog out. If they see their shadow and get scared, that means there will be 6 more weeks of winter. If not, it means spring is coming. No one really takes it seriously anymore, but it's all in good fun.

Hiii!! ! Ohh that's actually really interesting :O, i like that they used groundhogs and hedgehogs, that's adorable 🦔 !! also thank you so much so much 😄✨

[nev-valkyriesdottir]

As I was saying, I love snow and I don't hate it, it's not cold in here I'm in love 🫶💖❄🌨☃⛄

[capricioussun]

Hi hello

Ace, or any variation of my username ✮ 28 ✮ they/them

Tags ✮ UT+ ✮ Carrd (under construction)

Prosh/p DNI

Commissions: Closed ✮ Art Trades: Closed

Kofi ✮ Discord @ CapriciousSuns ✮ Bluesky ✮ Twitch

Inactive accounts: Instagram ✮ Twitter ✮ Cara ✮ Tiktok

Stuff I’m cool with & Stuff I’m less cool with

Personal/rb: @capricioussuns

Ship blog (mostly mirrorshipping): @snuggles-and-struggles

Inactive

@promptsnthingsidk

@askglaspyrus

+more (mostly relating to specific undertale AUs I've made)

Hand Status: still a little funky but probably as good as it'll get 👍

[daeniradraconis]

Right Where You Left Me

So, hello lovelies ✨ I’m currently in Germany watching the Leafs melt down in Game 7, and there is never a better time to post this than during the game. Well, there’s not much to say — hope you enjoy this! I wrote this from an outsider’s perspective, and it’s a little bit of a filler chapter, but we need this to connect a few things for the future.

Themes/Warnings: Hannah Elise Hughes x William Nylander, grief and loss, coma, emotional distress, complicated grief, hospital setting, family tension, fragile health

Chapters: 01, 02, 03

Chapter 3: The Quiet Between

The snow hadn’t stopped all day.

Toronto in late December was always a strange mix of silence and noise. Too many cars, too many people—but somehow, days like this felt still. The kind of cold that bit your skin, but numbed your thoughts just enough to be welcome.

Luke Hughes stood in front of William’s condo building, staring up at it like he needed permission to go in. The small velvet box in his pocket felt heavier than it should. Not that it was much more than metal and memory, but that was the problem—memories carried weight no one could see.

He’d debated even coming. He’d told himself it was stupid. That William didn’t need this. But still Luke had ended up here.

He pressed the buzzer. William answered, his voice slightly muffled. “Hey?”

“It’s me.”

A beat.

Then, “Come up.”

William answered the door in a hoodie and joggers, hair longer than Luke remembered and slightly messy, like he’d run his hands through it too many times today. He looked... better. Still tired around the eyes, still a kind of shadow beneath his skin, but lighter somehow. 

Luke stepped inside, shaking off the cold. “Sorry for just dropping by. I should’ve texted.”

“You’re good.” William shut the door behind him. “I’m not doing anything important. Just watching bad TV and pretending I know how to cook.”

Luke smiled, stepping into the warm space. “Still burning pasta?”

“Only on Tuesdays.”

They sat on the couch, easy and quiet. It wasn’t awkward. Not really. It had never been awkward between them, just heavy. Grief made everything quieter, more careful. Like walking through a room filled with glass, afraid to knock anything over.

William grabbed two beers from the fridge, tossed one gently to Luke. “You still not twenty-one?”

“Almost.”

William raised an eyebrow. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

They talked for a while—about hockey, about Jack, about how surreal it still felt to see Luke in a Devils jersey, skating on real NHL ice. William smiled when Luke told him about his first goal, even asked if he’d kept the puck. It made Luke feel good. He’d known William since he was just a kid. Over the years, William had always felt like an older brother to him. And somehow, even now, that hasn't changed.

Then the silence came. The one Luke had known was coming.

He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the box.

“I found this the other day,” he said, setting it gently on the coffee table. “I forgot I even had it.”

William stared at it, unmoving.

“They gave it to us after... everything,” Luke continued. “Doctors said they had to take it off her for the scans. So I took it. I don’t know why. I think I just... wanted to hold onto something.”

William didn’t respond right away. His eyes stayed on the box, like opening it might detonate something inside him.

Luke took a slow sip of his beer before setting it down, his fingers brushing along the rim.

“I don’t know why I took it,” Luke said softly, his voice tinged with sadness. “I think... back then, I just needed something. You had everything, you know? The house. The dogs. Her clothes still hanging in the closet. Her perfume on the pillows. You were surrounded by pieces of her life.”

He paused, eyes fixed on some far-off point on the coffee table.

“I didn’t have any of that. She was gone, and I didn’t have anything that felt like her. I guess I thought... maybe the ring would help me stay close. Like I could hold onto something real. Sorry…I…I know it wasn’t mine to keep.”

William didn’t speak right away. His fingers rubbed against his jeans, slow, thoughtful.

“Did it help?” he finally asked, his voice thick with emotion. “Having the ring?”

Luke nodded. “Yeah. It did.”

William gave a small smile, almost more breath than expression. “Then I’m glad you had it. You’re right. I had everything else…a little too much, sometimes. It made it harder to let go. But if the ring helped you feel close to her, I think that’s exactly where it belonged.”

Luke swallowed. “Well... it’s yours now. I don’t feel the need to hold onto it anymore. And you signed the papers. I think maybe you need it more now than I do.”

William shook his head gently. “You can keep it, if you want. I’m not sure I can even look at it right now. I’ve had enough of staring at things I can’t change for four years.”

Luke’s voice softened. “Still. Even if you don’t want to look at it right now... it’s yours, Will. You picked it. For her. Maybe one day you’ll want it near. So take it.”

William nodded once. He didn’t reach for the box. Not yet. But he didn’t push it away either.

After a moment, Luke spoke again, his voice more hesitant this time. “I also wanted to say... thank you. For staying. For hoping.”

William exhaled, a soft laugh escaping like he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. “You don’t have to thank me for that, Luke.”

“I do.”

“No.” William turned to him fully now. “Even if I was only her husband for six hours... I was the happiest man alive. And we were together since 2014, Luke. That’s my whole adult life. She was my life. I would’ve stayed longer if I could. God, I wanted to.”

He glanced down at his hands, voice softening. “But yeah, I still feel guilty sometimes. Like… every time I start feeling okay, it’s like I’m doing something wrong—like I’m betraying her just by trying to be happy again. And when I signed the divorce papers last week… Luke, that was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. In that moment, I felt lower than I’ve ever felt in my life.”

Luke’s eyes were heavy with something that looked like grief and compassion at once. “Don’t think of it like that. Please. She would want you to be happy. You held onto her with everything you had—but you can’t freeze your life forever, not for a chance that may never come.”

William looked up.

“We both know what the doctors said,” Luke said quietly. “There’s a point zero two percent chance. That’s not hope anymore, Will. That’s... punishment. And it’s not fair to you.”

William didn’t reply right away. Just stared at his hands again. Finally, he whispered, “It feels like giving up.”

“It’s not,” Luke said. “It’s choosing to live. And I know that’s what she would’ve wanted for you. To keep living. To maybe even—” he hesitated, “—have kids someday. If you want. To love someone again. That’s not betrayal. That’s surviving man.”

William blinked hard. He nodded once, slowly.

“Thanks, kid.”

Luke gave a crooked smile. “I’m not a kid anymore.”

William laughed—tired but real. “You’ll always be her baby brother. Doesn’t matter how tall you get.”

Luke’s smile softened, shifting into something gentler. “Every time I wondered how the hell you were getting through this... I’d see you still showing up. Still breathing. Still walking the dogs. Still being you. You never shut us out. I’m grateful for that, Will. For you. For how you stayed in our lives.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that either.”

“I do,” Luke repeated. “I just wish we had more time as a family. All of us. But no matter what happens—whether you get remarried or move away or anything else—I want you to know, you’re always going to be part of this family. Once you’re a Hughes, there’s no way out.”

William smiled, but it faltered with emotion. He rubbed a hand over his jaw, trying to stay composed.

“That means a lot,” he said quietly.

They sat in silence again, but this time it felt full, not empty.

Luke stood up first. “I should get going. Need to catch my flight early in the morning.”

William followed him to the door. As Luke opened it, the cold air rushed in, sharp and clean.

Luke paused at the threshold. “If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

William smiled. Luke looked and sounded like a man—it still felt surreal.

“Same goes for you, Luke.”

And when the door closed behind Luke, and the apartment fell quiet again, William turned toward the table.

The box sat there, still closed. Small. Simple. Heavy with meaning.

He walked toward it, stood for a moment, and gently reached out.

He didn’t open it. Not yet.

But he took it back.

And for tonight, that was enough.

—

The Michigan house was quiet except for the occasional sizzle from the kitchen, where Jim moved around with ease. The scent of onions softening in a pan wafted through the halls—something simple for dinner, maybe stew or pasta, but warm enough to fill the house with comfort.

Ellen poured herself a glass of wine. She brought it into the living room and set it on the table beside the couch, sighing as she lowered herself into the cushions. Her knees weren’t what they used to be.

She reached for the box that had been sitting on the bookshelf for years. Inside, a small chaos of memories: photos, drawings, crayon-smudged cards with crooked handwriting, and the kind of things you don’t mean to keep but never find the heart to throw away.

She flipped through them slowly, one by one.

There was a photo of Quinn, barely two days old, tucked into the arms of a toddler with wispy curls and a too-serious expression. Eli. Her daughter. Her first. Her light. The little girl who had looked up at her baby brother and kissed his forehead like she already knew she was responsible for something sacred.

“I’m gonna protect him,” Eli had whispered that day, proud, sleepy and sure.

Ellen’s throat tightened. She traced the edge of the photo with her finger.

Behind her, Jim began humming softly under his breath. She heard the gentle clink of the wooden spoon against the side of the pan—the comforting sounds of ordinary life.

She took another sip of wine and picked up a photo of their first Christmas with all four kids. Jack had just turned four and was wearing a Santa hat two sizes too big. Luke was a baby, mostly interested in trying to eat the garland. And Eli—Eli had flour on her cheeks, a candy cane apron, and the brightest smile on her face as she stood on a stool in the kitchen next to Ellen, holding a misshapen gingerbread man in one hand.

“This is my favorite holiday, Mommy,” she had said, looking up at Ellen with sparkles in her eyes. “I love it so much, every year.”

And she had. Every year, Eli had taken charge of decorations, baking, gift-wrapping, even organizing the family movie nights. She made Christmas feel like something out of a storybook.

Now, the holidays felt dimmer. Quieter. Like the lights were still strung up, but the glow didn’t reach as far.

Ellen’s hand paused on a photo that made her laugh under her breath. It was one of the few she’d saved from the skating rink.

Eli, bundled up in a pink jacket, scowling in the center of the ice, her arms pinwheeling as Jim tried to keep her upright. Her expression was unmistakable: betrayal and horror in equal parts.

“She hated it,” Ellen said aloud, a faint smile tugging at her lips. She turned around on the couch in the direction of the open kitchen and showed the picture to her husband. “Our daughter. The only Hughes who hated skating.”

“I remember,” Jim said with a nostalgic smile. “She said her feet weren’t meant for frozen water. And if we ever forced her to do this again, she’d move to her grandparents’ in Florida so she’d never have to experience that cold rink again.”

“She was five and already dramatic.”

“Well, she totally got that from you.”

Ellen shook her head, but her smile lingered. “And she’s still married to a hockey player, Jim. I would never have guessed that.”

Jim’s stirring slowed, and the silence that followed stretched between them, gentle but weighted.

Ellen’s hand found Elis’s wedding photo.

The sun poured through the trees that day—golden, gentle, and somehow full of kindness. William stood at the altar, barely holding himself together. Eli looked radiant, like she always did when she was near William—their love seemed to glow through her.

Quinn had wiped his face three times before the ceremony even started. Jack had given Will a playful shove and whispered something threatening into his ear, trying to cover up his own tears. And Luke—sweet Luke—had held Eli so tightly after the vows that Ellen had worried for a moment he might actually break her ribs.

Ellen pressed the photo to her chest for a moment.

The wedding had been a dream. A soft, perfect blur. And then just a few hours later, it became something else entirely.

She didn’t cry now. She rarely did anymore. The tears had dried up in the second year, and what remained was something quieter. A hollow ache. An ever-present weight.

Ellen turned toward the kitchen again, watching her husband move slowly around the stove. He’d always wanted a daughter. She remembered the day Eli was born—how he had cried when the doctor said, “It’s a girl.” He had kissed Ellen’s forehead and whispered, “I’m gonna be a good dad. I swear I will. She’s gonna be my little princess.”

And she had been.

The accident had taken something from Jim—something she knew she could never give back. He never said it aloud, but she saw it in how he spoke about her less these days, and in the way he’d sometimes sit alone in the garage, staring into nothing for long stretches. Grief had silenced a man who once filled the room.

Ellen looked back down at the photo in her hand.

Her baby. Her daughter.

Not gone. But not here.

Alive in the most technical way, and yet unreachable. For four years, they had visited the hospital, touched her hand, whispered to her like she might hear it. And every time, they left a little more broken.

Near the bottom of the box, Ellen’s fingers paused on another photo — one that made her chest tighten with a fresh, bittersweet ache.

It was a photo Jim had taken nearly fifteen years ago, on a late summer afternoon. The four kids sat at the edge of the old wooden dock behind their Michigan house, their legs swinging just above the shimmering lake. The sun bathed their skin in a honeyed glow, while the water whispered softly beneath them.

Eli was there — so alive, so bright — curled up with a worn copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone resting in her lap. Her braid was loose, strands sticking to her flushed cheeks, and she was reading aloud with that gentle intensity Ellen had always loved.

Quinn sat close, arms crossed, pretending to scold Jack — wild as ever — who was half-standing, half-jumping off the dock, his shirt twisted around his neck, wearing that wide grin full of mischief.

Luke, the littlest one with soft golden curls and chubby cheeks, sat right next to Eli, kicking his legs and babbling in that sweet toddler way only he could.

Then, in that photo—forever frozen in time—Luke’s face turned toward Eli. With a bright, clear voice that still made Ellen’s heart tighten, he spoke the word Eli had been waiting to hear for so long:

“HanHan.”

The very first time Luke said her name.

Everyone else called her Eli, short and simple — but Luke’s word was different. Full of wonder and love, spoken like a secret just between them. Eli’s face lit up with a smile that held all the joy in the world.

Ellen’s thumb brushed over the photo, her eyes stinging.

Four years had passed since the accident.

Four years since Eli’s laughter filled the house.

Four years since she slipped into silence.

Four years of holding onto memories like fragile glass — beautiful but easily shattered.

Looking at the picture now, Ellen could almost hear Luke’s voice echoing through the quiet house, calling “HanHan!” as he always did, full of hope and innocence.

She could almost see Eli turning toward him, happiness shining in her eyes, the way she’d drop everything to chase after her brothers, boss them around, love them fiercely.

Tears blurred Ellen’s vision as she whispered to the empty room, “My sweet HanHan…”

The name wasn’t just a memory. It was a thread connecting past and present. The hope that maybe, somehow, Eli was still there — still hearing, still loving, still HanHan to her brothers.

Ellen gently set the photo down and closed the box.

She stood up from the couch and walked toward the kitchen.

Jim stood at the stove, stirring quietly. Ellen leaned against the counter, her wine glass cradled in her hands, the sleeves of her sweater pushed up to her elbows. The silence between them wasn’t heavy—it rarely was. After twenty-plus years of marriage, silence could just mean safety.

Still, Ellen’s voice broke the silence gently. “I saw William last week.”

Jim didn’t look up from the stove. “Oh, yeah?”

“When I was at the PWHL conference in Toronto, I decided to grab a coffee with him.”

“That’s nice of you, honey. How is he doing?”

“He looks… better. He finished therapy and seems lighter, I guess. Smiling more. I’m glad his parents convinced him to do it—it seemed to help.” She paused, searching for the right words. “And… he met someone.”

Jim turned toward her, the wooden spoon still in his hand. Surprise flickered in his eyes, but there was no anger. “Oh? Well, I guess we told him last Christmas to get out there and move on. Who is she?”

“Her name’s Lena Gunnarsson. She’s Swedish too and lost her husband, her first love 6 years ago. Same kind of story.” Ellen’s smile was faint, almost fragile. “I guess, grief recognizes its own.”

Jim raised an eyebrow but waited, sensing Ellen wasn’t finished.

“I think that’s why he’s drawn to her,” Ellen said softly, almost to herself. “Not because he’s falling in love, but because he doesn’t have to explain anything. She just… understands him. No explanations, no judgment. It’s safe.”

Jim set the spoon down on a folded towel, folding his arms. “You think that’s a bad thing?”

Ellen exhaled slowly. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s exactly what he needs right now. But when I look at him—really look—I don’t see the same spark I used to. Not the way he used to light up when he talked about Eli or the future he dreamed for them.”

Jim nodded slowly, leaning back against the counter. “He’s been through hell, Ellen. No one would expect him to bounce back overnight.”

“I know,” she whispered. “And I’m proud of him. God, I am. He stayed. He waited. He never gave up on our baby, not really.” Her voice cracked. “But I worry… I worry he’s building his future on a foundation of shared pain rather than hope.”

Jim reached out, resting a steady hand on her shoulder. “You mean he’s settling? Because it’s comfortable?”

Ellen nodded. “Maybe. It’s safer to be with someone who knows the ache, who understands the silence, than to risk the messiness of love again. But that’s not really living, is it? That’s surviving.”

Jim exhaled softly, his gaze drifting away as he absently wiped his hands on a kitchen towel. After a moment, he spoke, his voice quiet but steady.

“You remember what I told William, don’t you? To let go. To find something new.”

Ellen nodded slowly. “You were right. He needed to hear it.”

Jim looked down at the counter, voice quieter. “But now that it’s happening... it feels strange. Different than I imagined.”

Ellen stepped closer, voice gentle. “How so?”

Jim swallowed. “I thought I’d feel relieved. Like a weight lifted. Instead, it’s like... I’m betraying my own daughter. Abandoning a space that should only be hers.”

He glanced up, eyes filled with a mix of sadness and confusion. “It’s not anger, or resentment. It’s... guilt.”

Ellen reached out, her hand covering his. “Jim...”

“I love William. I always have. But this—” He gestured vaguely, “—this feels like I’m letting go of Eli in a way I’m not ready for.”

Ellen’s voice was steady but tender. “Jim, you’re not betraying anyone. You wanted the best for William—because you love him. Because you love Eli. Wanting William to find happiness again doesn’t mean you’re letting Eli go. Eli wanted that for him, honey.”

Jim nodded slowly but his eyes didn’t quite meet hers. “I know.It’s just… emotions don’t always follow logic El.”

Ellen squeezed his hand. “Yeh, that’s true.”

She took a breath, steadying herself. “That’s why I’m scared for William. Because I think he’s trying to do what’s right, instead of what feels right. Because he’s afraid of loving again, not because he doesn’t want to, but because the fear of loss is still so big.”

They stood quietly, the kitchen filled only by the hum of the stove and the steady rhythm of their breaths.

Ellen finally whispered, “I’m just scared for him. That he’s so afraid of losing again, he won’t let himself love again.”

Jim bent down, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“We just have to trust him. Trust that he’ll find his way. Maybe it won’t be perfect. Maybe it won’t look like what we imagined. But it can still be something beautiful.”

Ellen nodded slowly, still holding his hand.

“I want him to have a future that’s more than just making it through. More than just breathing.”

“Me too, El,” Jim said softly, his voice thick with quiet emotion. “More than anything, me too.”

—

The envelope was still sitting on the counter.

Stephanie hadn’t opened it right away—just stared at the creamy paper like it had personally offended her. Now it was splayed open, invitation on display, as if the words might rearrange themselves into something less surreal.

William & Lena

She read it again.

William & Lena.

It didn’t matter how elegant the font was or how understated the navy and gold design looked. To Steph, it was a soft betrayal dressed up in tasteful serif type.

She stood in the kitchen, one hand pressed to her belly like she was physically holding herself together, the other gripping a mug of now-cold tea. Her knuckles were white on the handle. The silence around her buzzed like static.

Mitch stepped in from the hallway, unwinding his scarf and shrugging off the last of the cold outside. He saw her posture first—stiff, braced—then saw the envelope.

He didn’t need to ask.

“Steph,” he said gently, his voice a thread. “You okay?”

She didn’t look at him. Her eyes were locked on the invitation, like if she blinked, it might morph into something else.

“They’re getting married. In Sweden. In August.” Her voice was clipped, deliberate, like if she said it too softly it might sound reasonable.

“It’s like Eli never happened.”

Mitch exhaled, slow. “You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do,” she snapped. One hand stayed anchored on her belly like a warning. “He’s marrying someone else, Mitch. Just like that. After everything. After her.”

“It’s been almost five years, Steph.”

“Four and a half,” she corrected. Too fast.

Her voice cracked slightly, then hardened. “They’ve been together since they were teenagers. They married each other. And now he’s acting like she’s just a part to be replaced—like some role that can be recast.”

Mitch crossed the kitchen slowly, pulled out a chair at the table, and sat. He rested his arms on the table, calm and quiet, the way you approach someone who’s standing too close to a ledge.

“He’s not replacing her. No one could.”

“Then what the hell is he doing?” she said, each word sharp. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks a lot like settling. Like he just got tired of being alone and picked the next safest option.”

Mitch hesitated, letting the words settle before he answered.

“Maybe that’s all he has left in him, Steph. Maybe Lena isn’t some grand, romantic love—but maybe she’s someone he can survive.”

Stephanie scoffed, moving again, pacing like she couldn’t stay in her skin. Her fingers twisted the sleeve of her sweater.

“She doesn’t even know him,” she said bitterly. “Not like Eli did. Not like we do. She didn’t see what Eli brought out in him. The way he used to laugh around her—really laugh. Like he believed in something. Now he just... floats. Like he’s underwater all the time. And this wedding?” She gestured toward the counter, voice rising. “This feels like a checkbox.”

Mitch watched her, letting her unravel, knowing she had to.

“A freaking wedding?!” she went on, shaking her head. “He couldn’t even call. Just had his assistant send out invitations like it’s some goddamn charity gala.”

“He probably didn’t know how to say it,” Mitch offered gently.

“Oh, but a monogrammed RSVP card says it better?”

“Steph…”

“No, Mitch. No.” Her voice was rising now, more broken than loud. “This is not okay. He doesn’t get to rewrite everything just because he’s tired of being sad. He doesn’t get to bury Eli under this new-life package just because he wants to feel normal again.”

Mitch stood slowly. He approached her like one might approach a wounded animal—deliberate, soft, steady—but didn’t touch her. He knew she needed space to bleed it all out.

“He’s not burying her.”

“He is,” she snapped. “He’s remarrying. That’s not some minor thing. That’s not therapy or smiling again or going back to the gym. That’s permanent. That’s him telling the world Eli is behind him.”

Mitch turned to the counter and leaned against it, arms crossed. His expression was tired but open.

“Steph, it’s been four and a half years. That’s a long time to stand still.”

“She’s still alive,” she hissed.

He looked at her.

“She’s not gone. Don’t talk about her like she’s gone. Don’t you dare.”

There it was—her line. The edge of her world. But Mitch didn’t flinch.

“I know she is,” he said softly. “But you know she’s not coming back.”

Stephanie shut her eyes. Her jaw clenched so tightly the tendons stood out along her neck. For a moment, she looked like she might scream just to clear the air.

“I hate that you say it like that,” she whispered. “Like it’s just a fact we’re supposed to accept. Like you’ve made peace with it.”

“I haven’t,” Mitch said. “I just... made space for it.”

“She was my best friend Mitch,” Steph said. Her voice was barely audible now. “We were supposed to raise our kids together. We had names picked out. We made stupid Pinterest boards. She would’ve been this baby’s godmother.”

Her fingers found the edge of the counter, gripping it like a lifeline.

“And now I’m supposed to send a gift and wear pastel and clap for this new chapter like none of that mattered?”

Mitch moved to her, slowly, resting his hands on her arm. She didn’t pull away.

“No one’s asking you to pretend.”

“Really?” she said, half-laughing, half-weeping. “Because this?” She pointed at the invitation. “This feels a hell of a lot like pretending. Like we’re supposed to accept Lena as the sequel and call it healing.”

He guided her to sit, crouched beside her, never letting go of her hand.

“Steph. You’re right. It’s unfair. It’s messy and yes, it feels wrong. But maybe for Will, it’s taken everything just to get to the point where he can even try again. Maybe this isn’t a betrayal. Maybe this is the bravest thing he’s capable of.”

Her eyes were glassy, red-rimmed. Her hands trembled.

“I don’t want to see him happy if she’s not there,” she whispered. “Is that insane?”

Mitch shook his head. “It’s not insane. It’s human.”

She looked away. “I just don’t want him to live a lie. He loved Eli in this big, messy, all-consuming way. And now he’s marrying someone who fits into the grief. Who doesn’t make waves. Who doesn’t make him feel too much.”

Mitch exhaled through his nose. “Maybe that’s all he can handle.”

“But is that love, Mitch?” Her voice cracked again. “Or is that just... not drowning?”

He didn’t answer. Just held her hand.

“Does it matter?” he said finally. “If it keeps him alive, if it gives him peace... maybe we don’t get to define it.”

“I want more for him,” she whispered. “Even if he doesn’t want it for himself.”

“I know,” Mitch said. “Me too.”

They sat like that for a long time. The kitchen ticked with the quiet hum of the fridge, the distant creak of winter settling into the house.

Then Steph stirred again.

“And you know what else?” Her tone shifted, sharper now. “She’s going to be one of us. A Toronto WAG.”

Mitch blinked. “Steph…”

“No, I know it sounds petty, but it’s not. You remember what it was like—Eli was part of our crew. She was real. We weren’t brunch-photo wives, we were actual friends. A unit.”

She rubbed at her face with her sleeve, half laughing in disbelief.

“And now Lena gets to wear the jacket? Sit in our row? Be invited to wives’ game night and act like she belongs?”

Mitch watched her with quiet sympathy.

“It’s just a label, baby.”

“You know it’s not,” she said. “You know what that space meant. Eli was the soul of that group. She loved it.”

Mitch wrapped his arms around her. This time she melted into him, boneless with exhaustion.

“You’re right,” he murmured. “But I also know this baby is coming soon. And your hormones are setting fires.”

Stephanie let out a choked laugh, half sob.

“So I’m irrational?”

“I’m saying you already lost Eli once, and now it feels like you’re losing her again. And that’s terrifying.”

She nodded against him, the tears finally free now. Her shoulders shook.

“I don’t want to be this bitter,” she said finally. “I don’t want to hate someone I don’t even know.”

“You don’t hate her,” Mitch said gently. “You just miss Eli so much you don’t know where to put it.”

Mitch whispered, “We’ll go. We don’t have to smile. We don’t even have to stay long. But I think we should go. For William. For Eli.”

“Alright,” she said, voice low. “But we’re sitting in the back. And I’m wearing black. No exceptions.”

Mitch raised an eyebrow. “Black? Like funeral black?”

She gave him a look that was part mischief, part steel. “Exactly.”

He laughed softly. “You’re going to be a real joy at the wedding.”

“Someone’s got to keep things interesting.”

Mitch shook his head, smiling as he pulled her into a gentle hug again. “Deal.”

—

Jack pushed open the hospital door with a soft creak, stepping into the quiet, sterile room where his sister lay still — fragile as a glass sculpture, untouched by time but entirely changed by it. The faint beep of monitors was the only sound, steady and constant.

He stepped inside, slow. Careful. Like if he moved too fast, the moment would shatter.

It smelled like antiseptic and flowers that died three days ago.

Jack swallowed hard, the weight of five years and ninety-seven days pressing on his chest like it wanted to break something inside him. He hadn’t been here in weeks — between the season, the travel, the rehab — but today... today he couldn’t stay away.

He eased into the chair next to her bed, eyes scanning the stillness of her face. Peaceful. Pale. So fucking familiar. And so far away.

“Hey, big sis,” he said softly. “It’s been a while, huh?”

He reached for her hand — warm, soft, weightless — and curled his fingers around it. Holding on to something that felt like her.

“You took a long nap,” he whispered, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth, weak and cracked. “Five years and ninety-seven days. But who’s counting, right? Just your favorite brother keeping tabs.”

His thumb ran over the back of her hand, slow and rhythmic.

“I told myself I’d come every other month. Sit here. Talk. Let you know what’s going on. But I didn’t. And I’m sorry.”

He swallowed.

“I just... I hate seeing you like this, Eli. You’re here, but not. Breathing, but silent. It’s like someone hit pause on your life, and we’re all just... waiting. And every time I walk in, it feels like you’re going to wake up. Like you’ll roll your eyes at me and say I���m late or my hair looks dumb.”

He laughed — quiet, rough.

“I don’t want this to be what I remember when I think of you. This frozen version of you.”

He sat back, dragging a hand down his face, then sighed.

“Anyway. Catching you up.”

He sniffed and cleared his throat.

“Mom and Dad are... well, they’re Mom and Dad. You know. Stubborn and weirdly optimistic in ways that make no sense. Dad’s golfing like he’s on the senior tour. He’s either on the course or on YouTube watching some guy named Sven talk about putters. Mom’s pissed because he’s ‘wasting his damn knees’ but she’s been crazy busy, too. She took this new position with the women’s Olympic team — she’s basically coaching the coaches. Yelling at them and bossing them around. She’s so in her element it’s scary. You’d love it.”

He smiled faintly.

“They miss you. I mean, they won’t say it—not directly. But it’s there. Like... Mom still folds your hoodie and leaves it draped over the back of the chair, like you might swing by. And Dad—he keeps your old voicemail saved on his phone. Listens to it sometimes when he thinks no one’s around. Just stands there in the garage like he’s fixing something, but he’s not. He just... misses you.”

His jaw flexed. “They stopped saying your name after the second year. Like if they say it, something will snap.”

A beat passed.

“Luke’s in the NHL now.”

He gave a small laugh.

“I know, right? Baby Luke. He’s fast, cocky, impossible to deal with — so, basically perfect. You missed his first game. You would’ve hated missing it. He had your name inside his glove. We both did. He’s doing great. I mean, I live with him, so I also know that he leaves wet towels on the floor and eats pasta at 2 a.m. straight from the pot like a gremlin, but still. He’s killing it. I’m trying not to murder him. Mostly succeeding.”

Jack exhaled, shoulders slumping.

“Quinn... Quinn’s dating someone. Kinda. It’s a mess. He’s doing that thing where he’s emotionally constipated but still somehow kind of in love? He keeps texting me for advice like I’m some sort of love guru. I’m like, ‘Bro, I’m still figuring out if I’m emotionally available enough to own a plant.’ You’d be yelling at us both right now.”

He grew quiet.

“And then... there’s William.”

Jack rubbed the back of his neck.

“He got married again.”

The words hung there, blunt and bare.

“It was a few months ago. In Sweden. Beautiful place. It was... nice. Really nice, actually. Candles everywhere. That soft, muted golden light you always loved—the kind that makes everything feel a little quieter. Everyone looked gentle, a little sad. Which, I guess, made sense.”

Jack shook his head, a pained smirk curling.

“I told him I was happy for him. And I am. Sort of. But it also felt like watching someone wear a jersey with the wrong number. You know?”

He hesitated.

“She’s not terrible, Eli. That’s what sucks. She’s... gentle. Respectful. She talks about you. Doesn’t pretend you never happened. She gets it, in this weird way. She lost someone, too. I think that’s the thing — they’re not really in love the way you two were. But they’re broken in the same shape. And I guess sometimes, broken finds broken.”

He went still again.

“But she’s not you. She’ll never be you.”

Jack drew in a shaky breath.

“Stephanie came to the wedding with Mitch. Nine months pregnant. Emotional as hell. She wore a black dress. Like, full black. Said it was ‘formal mourning attire.’ Mitch tried to stop her from wearing a damn veil. She was fighting him in the parking lot. You would’ve laughed your ass off.”

His face softened.

“She still talks about you like you’re gonna walk through the door any second.”

He looked at Eli again.

“I do, too.”

A long silence. The kind that settled deep.

“I had another surgery,” he said eventually. “Shoulder again. Missed a small part of the season and the full playoffs. Rehab sucks. But I’m doing better. Next year I’m back. I’ll score one for you. First game. Even if it’s ugly and I trip into the net, it’s yours.”

Jack leaned forward, his forehead almost touching her hand.

“I don’t know what’s left of you in there. I don’t know if you hear me. If you’ve heard anything.”

His voice broke.

“But I love you, Eli. I love you so fucking much. And I miss you. Every day. Every goddamn day.”

And then — something shifted.

A twitch.

Barely there.

A squeeze.

Jack sat up fast.

“Eli?” he whispered.

Her eyelashes flickered. Once. Twice.

And then her eyes opened.

Wide. Unfocused. Fragile as glass.

Jack’s heart slammed into his ribs.

“Eli,” he breathed.

She blinked. Her mouth parted. Confused. Silent.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Eli.”

And for the first time in five years and ninety-seven days, Jack Hughes finally felt like he could breathe again.

[rmadridcore]

Cabin Moments

Pairing: Jude Bellingham x Reader

Requested

Summary: After a hilarious cookie mishap, you and Jude escape the cold and find yourselves melting into each other in a cabin warmed by love and a crackling fire.

Word Count: 3.3K

Warning: Smut! (Minors DNI)

Author’s note: I’ve been wanting to write something Christmas themed and I decided to combine it with one of my requests ✨ Hope you’ll love it, happy holidays everyone 🤍🤍🤍

Jude had approached baking with the same confidence he brought to the pitch, but the batter currently clinging to the ceiling suggested otherwise. It was a few days before Christmas, and after ending the year with a win, Jude had whisked you away on the snowy getaway you’d both been looking forward to for weeks. Nestled in a cozy, picturesque cabin surrounded by a blanket of thick, crisp snow, the two of you had every intention of soaking up this peaceful time together before heading to England to celebrate the holidays with his family.

After a playful afternoon of snowball fights and building lopsided snowmen, you’d returned to the cabin, cheeks pink from the cold and laughter. That’s when Jude had insisted on baking cookies for you — a gesture he’d framed as a “thank you” for always taking care of him during his grueling season. You’d tried, and failed, to talk him out of it, knowing all too well that Jude’s cooking was less “Michelin star” and more “hazardous experiment.”

“Babe, why is there flour on your forehead?” you asked, squinting at him from your perch at the kitchen counter. Your chin rested in your palm as you watched his questionable culinary process unfold.

“Because the bag exploded on its own,” he replied, his tone completely serious as he stirred a bowl of unidentifiable liquid that was supposed to be cookie dough.

“Uh-huh,” you said, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “And I’m guessing the whisk didn’t magically fling batter onto the ceiling either?”

He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Okay, that one might’ve been me.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. It was impossible to stay annoyed when he looked so determined, even if his methods were… unconventional. He whisked the mixture with such vigor you half-expected the bowl to launch itself off the counter. Butter, eggs, sugar, flour, vanilla, and a pinch of salt were haphazardly combined in a way that made you want to intervene at least ten times. The butter wasn’t properly melted, the flour was clearly insufficient, and his measurements were more guesswork than precision — but he was so resolute in doing this himself that you decided to let him be.

And prayed the cookies wouldn’t kill you.

As Jude began shaping the dough, his brows furrowed in concentration. He rolled an oddly lumpy blob in his hands, inspecting it as if it held the secrets of the universe. “Do cookies need to be round, or is that just a societal norm?” he asked, holding up the blob for your opinion.

You couldn’t hold back your laughter, doubling over as the absurdity of the question sank in. “No, Jude, they don’t need to be round,” you teased. “But it helps. Want me to take over?”

Tempted as he was by your offer, Jude stood firm. “No, thank you. I’ve got this.” His voice was confident, even as his hands struggled to mold the dough into something remotely spherical.

After what felt like an eternity, Jude triumphantly placed six misshapen dough balls onto a tray and slid them into the oven. Turning back to survey the kitchen, his eyes widened in disbelief. The once-pristine space now looked like a war zone — flour dusted every surface, utensils were strewn everywhere, and a suspicious trail of chocolate chips led to the corner of the counter.

He caught your knowing look and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, maybe I’ll let you help with the cleanup,” he admitted sheepishly.

You grinned, grabbing a dishcloth. “I thought you’d never ask.”

As the cookies baked, the two of you worked side by side to restore some semblance of order to the kitchen, exchanging teasing remarks and stifling laughter at the chaos Jude had created. The air was filled with the warm, sweet scent of vanilla and butter, but also the undeniable warmth of shared joy and affection.

A soft ding from Jude’s phone broke the quiet, signaling that his cookies were ready.

“They’re done!” he shouted, darting to the oven with the kind of excitement you’d expect from a five year old on Christmas morning. You stifled a laugh, watching him as he carefully pulled the tray out, his expression radiating pride.

His enthusiasm was endearing, until you remembered the last time he’d insisted on cooking. You prepared yourself for what was likely going to be an unforgettable culinary experience.

The cookies cooled for a few minutes, and then you both grabbed one, each taking a tentative bite. It only took a second for reality to hit. The moment your teeth met the cookie, it felt as though your entire dental health history flashed before your eyes.

“Jude, what is this?!” you exclaimed, your jaw protesting from the sheer effort it took to chew.

Beside you, Jude was in the same boat, though he valiantly tried to act like it wasn’t a disaster. He set his cookie down slowly, as if to avoid offending it. “They’re just… crunchy,” he said, forcing nonchalance.

“They’re not crunchy, Jude. I think I just tested the limits of my dental insurance policy,” you replied, gingerly placing the cookie back on the plate and vowing never to attempt another bite.

Jude’s face fell, a cute pout forming as he stared at the offending baked goods. He looked so disappointed it tugged at your heart. Bless him, he had just wanted to make something special for you.

“It’s okay, my love,” you said, softening your tone as you approached him. You cupped his face gently and placed a sweet kiss on his lips. “I’m still so proud of you. You’ll do better next time.”

Your reassurance brought a small smile back to his face. He hugged you tightly, his chin resting atop your head as he pressed a kiss to your hair.

“You probably won’t,” you whispered teasingly, unable to resist.

“Hey!” he protested, pulling back with an offended look that made you laugh.

“I’m kidding,” you said, pecking the tip of his nose. “How about you go light the fireplace, and I’ll make us some hot chocolate? Deal?”

“Deal,” he replied, clearly agreeing that cooking should forever remain your domain.

You set to work preparing two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, using the adorable Christmas-themed mugs Jude’s mom had gifted the two of you just a few days ago. With the rich scent of chocolate filling the air, you carried the mugs into the living room.

Jude was already sprawled on the couch, the fireplace crackling and casting a warm, flickering glow around the room. The cabin was utterly serene, the kind of cozy that made you want to live in this moment forever.

You handed him his mug before curling up beside him, his free arm naturally draping over your shoulders.

For a while, the two of you sipped your drinks in peaceful silence, the warmth of the fire wrapping around you like a soft blanket. It was a much-needed pause, a rare moment of tranquility amid the chaos of your lives.

“I wish I could freeze time,” Jude murmured, his voice breaking the quiet as he rested his head against yours. “Just stay like this forever.”

“What would we even do all day?” you teased, humming contentedly as the sweet, creamy liquid soothed your throat.

“This,” he replied simply, his fingers tracing soft patterns on your arm. “And maybe… I’d hold you a little closer.”

His words made your heart swell. You turned to look at him, your eyes brimming with affection. The way the firelight danced across his features left you breathless. He was stunning, and in this light, his expression so relaxed, so full of love, he somehow seemed even more beautiful.

“You look so different like this,” you whispered, your fingers grazing his jaw in a tender caress.

“Different?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Softer,” you said, smiling as your hand lingered on his cheek.

“Softer, huh?” he teased, his lips quirking into a grin. “That’s a first.”

“Not your muscles, silly,” you replied, rolling your eyes playfully. “Your eyes. They’re glowing. Like you’re thinking about something.”

He gazed deeply into your eyes, his demeanor calm and tender. “Just thinking how lucky I am to have you,” he said softly, his words making your heart flutter, as they always did.

You leaned in, pressing your lips against his, gifting him a short but heartfelt kiss that carried every ounce of your affection.

Turning your head, you let your eyes settle on the fire burning in the hearth, its soft glow casting a magical warmth over the room. “There’s something about this moment,” you murmured, “something magical, isn’t there?”

Jude brushed a gentle kiss to your temple, his lips lingering for a moment as his arms tightened around you. “You’re the magic,” he whispered against your skin. “The rest is just the setting.”

Your gaze flicked back to him, your chest swelling with love as a warm, fuzzy feeling settled deep within you. He reached for your mug, setting it alongside his on the coffee table.

“I don’t want anything between us, not even hot chocolate,” he explained when you gave him a curious look.

Before you could respond, he pulled you into his embrace, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was slow, deliberate, and brimming with emotion. His tongue grazed your bottom lip, and you granted him entry, allowing him to explore your mouth with delicate care. His hands traced slow, soothing patterns along your back as he lowered you onto the couch, his body hovering over yours, never breaking the kiss.

Your fingers found their way to the back of his neck, nails grazing softly along his skin, sending visible shivers through him. He moaned quietly into your mouth, the sound igniting a fire in your belly.

“I love you,” he murmured between kisses, his lips trailing a path to your neck where he began leaving soft, open-mouthed kisses. His warm breath sent tingles coursing through you, your skin heating beneath his touch. “I love you more than anything.”

“Jude,” you sighed his name, your voice a soft groan of pleasure. “I love you too.”

He hooked one of your legs over his hip, his lips continuing their worshipful journey along your neck and collarbone. Jude’s hands worked quickly, pulling his top off in one swift motion before reaching for your sweater, lifting it over your head. You unclasped your bra and tossed it aside, your bare skin now exposed to his hungry gaze.

He cupped one of your breasts, his thumb gently stroking the sensitive skin while his mouth captured the peak of your other breast. His lips and tongue teased your nipple with a mix of tenderness and desire, leaving you breathless as soft moans slipped from your lips.

“Jude,” you moaned again, the sound spurring him on.

Hearing you say his name like that was his greatest reward — a confirmation that he was making you feel good. It fueled him, his own pleasure second to the joy of knowing he was satisfying you.

Within moments, the rest of your clothes were discarded, leaving you naked beneath him. The firelight danced across your skin, painting you in a soft, golden glow that took Jude’s breath away.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours. “I’m obsessed with you.”

His hand slid between your bodies, his fingers exploring your wet folds with slow, deliberate strokes. The sensation sent waves of pleasure coursing through you. You were already ready for him, Jude had that effect on you. Just his touch, his words, even the way he looked at you could leave you completely undone.

You whimpered softly as his fingers left you, watching as he stroked himself a few times before positioning himself at your entrance. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent as he began to push into you slowly.

A deep groan escaped your lips as he filled you, stretching you perfectly in a way that was both intense and utterly satisfying. Your hands gripped his shoulders, your nails digging slightly into his skin as you adjusted to his size.

When you tilted your hips upward, your body signaling your readiness, he began to move, his thrusts slow and purposeful as he lost himself in you.

A soft, almost inaudible sigh escapes your lips as Jude begins to move, his hips rocking slowly, savoring every second. There’s no rush — neither of you are in a hurry. For the first time in what feels like forever, you both have all the time in the world to explore each other’s bodies, to bask in the tenderness and love that envelopes the moment.

His rhythm is steady and purposeful, his thrusts full of affection. Each movement feels like a silent declaration of how much he loves you.

Jude lifts his head to meet your gaze, his dark eyes melting into yours, filled with devotion and longing. Your fingers curl into the back of his head, your breaths mingling as your hearts beat in perfect synchrony.

“You’re so perfect, you know that?” he whispers, his voice soft yet full of intensity, as if the words themselves carry the weight of his entire heart. His hand gently brushes strands of hair away from your face, revealing every detail of your expression.

Your eyes hold all the emotion that words could never fully express. If others wear their hearts on their sleeves, you and Jude carry yours in your eyes, transparent and undeniable.

He moves gently within you, every thrust igniting a fire in your core, sending pleasure rippling through your body. His lips find yours, warm and inviting, and his tongue slips past your parted lips to deepen the kiss. Slowly, he trails his kisses along your jawline, then down to your neck, his mouth hot against your skin.

Soft moans spill from your lips as his pace quickens, each movement perfectly calculated to bring you closer to the edge. Your legs tighten around his waist, pulling him deeper as your hands explore the expanse of his back. He groans softly against your neck, the sound vibrating through you and making your skin tingle.

“You feel so good,” Jude murmurs, his voice thick with adoration. “So perfect.”

His large hand moves to cup your breast, his fingers teasing the hardened peak with a gentle pinch. He presses open-mouthed kisses along your neck and shoulder, his lips lingering on your heated skin.

“Jude, you make me feel so good,” you say breathlessly, tilting your head back to give him more access. Your words spur him on, his lips trailing even lower, leaving you a trembling mess beneath him.

Hearing you say those words is everything to Jude. It fuels him, his desire to make you happy, to make you feel cherished, surging through him like a tidal wave. He pauses, his lips leaving your skin to gaze into your eyes once more.

“Y/N, you’re my everything,” he says, his voice raw with emotion. His eyes lock with yours, and you see the love radiating from them. It’s overwhelming, almost too much to bear, yet you welcome it, reveling in the intensity of his feelings for you.

Even without his words, you can feel it. His every touch, every glance, every moment you’ve shared has shown you how much he adores you. But hearing him say it, especially now, sends warmth flooding through your chest.

He captures your hand in his, bringing it above your head, intertwining your fingers tightly. His thrusts remain slow and deliberate, his body perfectly aligned with yours as he leans closer, his forehead resting against yours.

“You’re mine, right?” he asks, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable.

The question feels so silly to you, but you know Jude well enough to understand the quiet need for reassurance beneath it. Even though he knows your heart belongs to him, hearing you say it, especially in a moment this intimate, brings him a joy he can’t describe.

You smile, your free hand gently cupping his face as you whisper, “Of course, my love. I’m yours. Forever.”

The words ignite something within him. His thrusts pick up slightly, enough to send waves of pleasure cascading through your body, inching you closer to the edge. Your soft cries of pleasure echo in his ears, and he knows he’s exactly where he’s meant to be — wrapped in your arms, lost in the love you share.

Jude gazed down at you, his breaths heavy and labored but his heart fuller than ever. To him, you felt like a dream, a tangible piece of heaven he could hold, yet somehow still untouchably divine. There was an ethereal connection between the two of you, unlike anything he’d ever experienced.

The moment he had you in his life, he knew there was no going back. How could he? You made him feel like he was perpetually on cloud nine. You were the light that brightened even the most ordinary days, a warmth that banished every shadow.

As his pace quickened, your fingers squeezed his tightly. He responded by leaning down, capturing your lips in a kiss that was deep, fervent, and all-consuming. It wasn’t just a kiss — it was a declaration, a pouring out of emotions from the deepest corners of both your hearts.

To Jude, it felt as though he were floating on warm water, his entire being weightless and suspended in bliss. His heart swelled, threatening to burst from how much he loved you.

“I still can’t believe how lucky I am to have you,” he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with sincerity.

And he truly felt like the luckiest man alive. You loved him without reservation, understood him like no one else ever had, and supported him in ways that made him feel invincible. He never thought his life had been lacking before he met you, but now, he understood — nothing could ever compare to the completeness he felt with you by his side.

His thrusts quickened slightly, urgency mingling with tenderness as both of you approached your highs. Your intertwined hands tightened simultaneously, the shared gesture grounding you both in the moment.

Your lips remained locked as the peak hit, his warm release filling you just as your orgasm surged through you, sending tremors down your spine. Your walls clenched around him, eliciting a low, guttural groan from deep in his chest that you swallowed with your own cries of pleasure.

For a moment, there was nothing but the sound of your labored breaths mingling with the soft crackle of the fire. Jude slumped against you, his weight resting on you in a way that felt grounding and secure. He was careful not to crush you, but he also didn’t want to break the closeness of the moment.

Your fingers found their way to the back of his head, gently caressing his slightly damp hair. The soothing motion sent shivers down his spine yet again, a sensation that never seemed to grow old no matter how often you touched him.

The cabin was silent, save for the occasional pop of the firewood. Outside, the snow was falling heavily, blanketing the world in stillness and cold. But inside, wrapped in the warmth of each other’s embrace, you felt untouched by the chill.

Jude rested his head on your chest, pressing lazy, loving kisses along your collarbone as he listened to your heartbeat — steady, soothing, and his favorite sound in the world. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close, the crackling fire and the scent of pine only adding to the magic of the moment.

Though it felt like perfection, both of you knew this was just the beginning. With Christmas just around the corner, the love and passion you shared promised even more magic ahead. And as the snow continued to fall outside, you lay there together, hearts full, basking in a warmth that no fire could ever rival.

[thoughtsonkm]

Oh, to have a lover that runs through the airport to get to you sooner just so he can cook you dinner. A lover that will climb a mountain just to bring you back the snow that you adore so much. A handsome lover that will shamelessly beg you to come over while he's still wrapped up in his sheets. A lover who will plan a trip and fly you to Tokyo just to take you to Disney when the whole park is themed after the movie that inspired your signature. A lover that will remember everything about you and every experience you've shared with the most precious detail. A lover who will scold you with a smile on his face and is unafraid of looking silly just to make you laugh.

But also

Oh, to be a lover that runs across the stage to be by their side when they are hurting. A lover that will fly halfway around the world just to be with them on their birthday. A lover who will listen intently as they talk about even the mundane things like sand fleas and bikers. A lover who will give them butterflies after all these years and even while you're covered in mosquito bites. A lover who will hold them and wipe their tears when they cry. A lover who will make them feel safe and secure to be their chatty, teasy, energetic, sensitive self when they are with you. A lover who will praise them to the moon and provide constant assurance of your love for the art and things they produce. A lover who will get scolded with a smile on your face and is unafraid of looking silly just to make them laugh.

What's that saying again? Ah yes, "Love is a road that goes both ways".

✨Jimin & Jungkook everyone✨

If you see me crying in a corner mind your own business.

[lostinwildflowers]

Attack On Titan Masterlist

Zeke Yeager

❈ A Missed Chance (0.7K) - ✨ - You are in love with Zeke Yeager, but he's busy with that blonde girl.

❈ When Opportunity Strikes (Part 2 to A Missed Chance) (3.3K) - ✨❤ - Zeke was with that blonde girl, but after the party he notices how reclusive you are. He is determined to figure out why, but then that blonde girl makes this complicated. Where does that leave you?

❈ Late Nights and Lonely Calls (1.0K) - ✨❤ - Zeke has to spend a late night in his office, and he sees how much he misses you in the whimsical charm of the night.

❈ Studying, or Something (0.7K) - ❤ - You and Zeke were supposed to go out on a date. Physics homework is the only thing that stands in your way.

❈ If Only in My Dreams (3.4K) - ❤✨ - The Dream Titan causes a reconciliation between you and Zeke.

❈ The Staircase (4.3K) - ❤✨ - The staircase outside of your apartment seems to be endlessly busy, where you find yourself caught in the middle between two futures. You know you’ll need to pick one path to go down, but which one will you choose?

❈ The Staircase - Zeke's Ending (1.1K) - ❤ - You’ve planned to go out to eat with Zeke, but to make dinner with Levi after your presentation. One seems to call to you a little more than the other.

❈ The Claim of A Heart (Series - 19.8K ) - ❤✨ - Love finds you in playful and tender childhood, taking a hold of you and your beloved Porco. That is until a call from the Prince of Marley comes, and your heart gets ripped away from you, and plans unfold when a secret is found.

❈ Mint Chocolate Chip (0.6K) - ❤ - You and Zeke go on an evening stroll, and he wants your favorite ice cream.

❈ One Call Away (1.4K) - ❤✨ - Waking up in the hospital is not something that was on your radar. Thankfully, Zeke is your emergency contact.

❈ Coral Colored Confessions (0.9K) - ❤ - You are a marine biologist on a mission - to find more coral for your research. You drag your boyfriend along for some fun.

❈ Falling Leaves and Apple Picking (1.1K) - ❤ - You go apple picking with your lover, and he makes things, well, interesting.

❈ Chocolate-Iced Donut... with Sprinkles! (1.0K) - ❤ - You are trying to get donuts for your office, but what happens when the cashier spills another customer's drink?

Levi Ackerman

❈ The Staircase (4.3K) - ❤✨ - The staircase outside of your apartment seems to be endlessly busy, where you find yourself caught in the middle between two futures. You know you’ll need to pick one path to go down, but which one will you choose?

❈ The Staircase - Levi's Ending (0.9K) - ❤ - You’ve planned to go out to eat with Zeke, but to make dinner with Levi after your presentation. One seems to call to you a little more than the other.

❈ Caught Slipping (2.2K) - ❤ - You and Levi get to spend a weekend together in the snow.

❈ Happy Accidents (1.3K) - ❤ - You and Levi had been close friends ever since you joined the Survey Corps with him and his underground friends. You were the first friendly face the three of them saw, and you quickly took a liking to Levi. You are talking to Izzy when someone appears behind you. Oops?

❈ Believe Me When I Say I Love You (27.5K) - ❤✨ - A young, naïve princess and a scrappy kid off the streets find themselves at odds, only to form a close connection that could cost the princess's future.

❈ Hard Truths (0.3K) - ✨ - Levi found someone else.

❈ Colder Weather (1.0K) - ❤ - It’s cold out, snow is falling, and you aren’t at your shared house with Levi. He’s planned a surprise for you, and he wonders what you’ll think when he asks you a whimsical question.

❈ Depletion (0.7K) - ✨ - The mission was supposed to be easy. Ride in, scout for a new camp set up, ride out. Except you weren't making it out.

❈ Just a Walk in the Park (0.7K) - ✨ - You and Levi go for a walk in the park.

❈ A Long Day (0.9K) - ✨ - You get to go home to visit your family and friends from college, where you just want to spend the rest of your evening with Levi. He can see how stressed out you are, and gently helps you unwind from all of your tension.

❈ A Little Payback Never Hurt (1.1K) - ✨❤ - You get a little jealous when Levi is talking to another girl. You decide to try to get a little payback.

Porco Galliard

❈ The Claim of A Heart (Series - 19.8K ) - ❤✨ - Love finds you in playful and tender childhood, taking a hold of you and your beloved Porco. That is until a call from the Prince of Marley comes, and your heart gets ripped away from you, and plans unfold when a secret is found.

❈ Home (1.0K) - ❤ - Porco comes home from a long day at work to you making dinner in the kitchen. He takes a moment to appreciate you, finding himself in love all over again.

❈ Before the House (Part 2 to Home) (1.0K) - ❤ - Porco just managed to put a ring on your finger, sealing it with a beautiful wedding. Now, it’s time to find a place to call your own, while Porco calls you his.

❈ A Crumbling Foundation (Part 3 to Home) (1.2K) - ✨ - While marriage is a beautiful thing, it can test the limits of even the strongest of people. Things aren’t flowing as easily as you thought, and Porco’s got a strong opinion you can’t seem to beat.

❈ Quickstep (Part 4 to Home) (2.1K) - ❤ - Before the life of marriage, you and Porco were friends who had full-time classes to juggle between the two of you. And- a ballroom dance class.

Jean Kirstein

❈ Night Changes (2.2K) - ❤✨ - You wake up from a nightmare and Jean comforts you. In easing your worries, you ease his.

❈ Hidden (1.7K) - ❤✨ - You and your best friend, Jean, are cleaning up your ODM gear when an urgent request for you comes from Erwin’s office. What will he tell you, and what will it mean for your friendship with Jean?

❈ Head Over Wheels For You (1.1K) - ❤ - You are biking back to the parking lot on campus when you fly head over… wheels? for someone.

❈ You’re Wheelie Great (Part 2 to Head Over Wheels For You) (1.4K) - ❤ - After running Jean over with your bike, Jean takes you back to his place to fix it up.

Erwin Smith

❈ Sleep, Love (1.3K) - ❤ - You are trying to finish your work, but sleep is calling to you. You ignore the need to sleep, so Erwin takes matters into his own hands.

❈ The Dance (1.3K) - ✨ - Your steps were not working out with your current partner. So when a tall blonde rival's partner becomes ill, do your steps smooth out?

❈ Promenade (Part 2 to The Dance) (4.2K) - ❤✨ - A war of dance is upon you, and somehow your partner is your rival. What will happen when it is time for the ultimate dance?

❈ The Olympic Games (Part 3 to The Dance) (7.1K) - ❤✨ - You've qualified for the Olympics with the person you were least expecting, but now, you're competing for gold. Will you manage to make it?

❈ When The Time Is Right (1.0K) - ❤ - A venture into the woods on your day off doesn't end the way you expect it to.

Miche Zacharius

❈ Get Me A Cowboy (2.0K) - ❤ - Miche is a cowboy, through and through. When you accidentally accuse him, what will happen?

Connie Springer

❈ Cold Ramen (1.4K) - ❤ - You and Connie are best friends in college, but one day he confesses his love to you,

Headcanons

❈ Cooking with the Warriors - ❤

❈ Soft Erwin Smith - ❤

❈ Hand Holding with Zeke - ❤

❈ Reverse AU with AOT Boys - ❤

❈ College AU with Zeke - ❤

❈ Jean’s Insecurities - ❤✨

❈ Sleeping Next to Zeke Yeager - ❤

❈ Relationship HCs with Zeke Yeager - ❤

❈ Alzheimer S/O with Levi Ackerman - ✨

❈ Alzheimer S/O with Levi Ackerman – Part 2 ✨

❈ Becoming Warriors with the Galliard Brothers - ❤✨

❈ Reading with Armin Arlert - ❤

❈ Small! S/O with Zeke Yeager - ❤

❈ Deaf S/O with Zeke Yeager - ❤

❈ Sentimental S/O with Eren Yeager, Porco Galliard, and Reiner Braun - ❤

❈ AOT Characters as Pilots in Top Gun - ❤