#it's because she LOVES HIM SO MUCH and WANTS TO MEET HIM ON HIS OWN TERMS..... WAUGH

[cup-o-stars]

Relativity Falls!

Design Concepts (and my unnecessary thoughts):

Excuse the the colors, ig my apps are fighting.

I see Mabel finding success no matter what happens to her, but I really like the thought of her running an insane arts and crafts business in GF. Alternatively, if she fell in the portal, she'd come out acting confident as always, but she probably wouldn't realize how much the constant change and lack of family/stability wore her out until she settled back in. In either case, she's a bit cracked.

Dipper is investigative, but cracks easiest under stress and is not as inherently adventurous as Mabel or Ford- so the portal wouldn't treat him well. If he's not the one in the portal, he'd be into stargazing and real magic to share with people, while also warding tourists away from the dangerous stuff. In general, he'd be an unhappy adult if left to his own devices, lol.

Between Dipper and Mabel, I like Dipper being in the portal more. He's a great protagonist, but as a supporting cast member, he needs to be more insane to match the draw that is 'Mabel taking care of children,' ha. I also love the idea of there being no portal / some other looming threat for these two to struggle with (at least because Hirsche has made it clear that Dipper and Mabel are equally smart, and to me it seems like the portal would reopen way quicker with them), but I didn't plan on posting these and I don't know how my followers feel about me posting lore.

Stanford and Stanley:

Pretty much how they are in canon, but now they're in a setting where they can get over themselves, ha. They aren't quite as mature as Dipper and Mabel were at their age, but after coming to GF, they finally found other people to look out for them. Dipper could be a more emotionally available and level-headed role model (I think having people to take care of is calming for him in turn), and they'd both look up to Mabel as the peak of somebody who knows how to socialize.

Fiddleford:

He's a sweet, southern, farm-raised mechanical engineer just like in canon.

Idk why Fiddleford is in GF (visiting an unnamed grandparent?), but I really like his relationship with Ford in the journal. Following that thought, in this AU, he starts out more of Ford's friend than Stan's, and it's kind of a big deal. Unlike Dipper's arc on learning to be a kid, Stan and Ford clearly struggled a lot with interpersonal relationships / finding security outside of eachother, and that's what I think this AU could be about (it's great they realized they need each other in canon, but the part where they had no one else to turn to is also kinda crazy if you ask me).

Ford gets to meet another smart kid in a weird town, which helps him feel more normal. He has a better idea of what friendship is because of it, but also, since I can't imagine Dipper wanting an apprentice so young/vulnerable/impressionable or Mabel asking only one of the twins to stay- he'd have to come to terms with the fact that he can't live in his dream world forever. (Or maybe the apprenticeship comes from somewhere else, just because the conflict around going back to Glass Shard Beach at all, or sending Stan alone could be pretty good.)

On the flipside, I think Stan's initial jealousy of Ford and Fiddleford's friendship would force him to try finding his own friends / hobbies. I like the idea that he fails at first- and a lot- but Mabel notices his mounting frustration (which he is very keen on hiding), and her consistent and unorthodox support makes him realize he wasn't alone to begin with. He can be more open around her, which makes it easier to open up to others, and then he can make friends without having to pull any tricks. He probably starts with some animals, and then at least gets closer to Fiddleford anyways (I feel like they're both more practical than Ford and value human company more, so they'd bond easier once Stan gets over his personal hurdle).

Anyways- because that was way too much- Mabel's exes are a constant source of antagonists and Dipper is stressed about setting a good example.

(I was more of a Monster Falls fan back in the day, but I can't draw animals, lol)

[foreverisntenough]

‘Act II’

Summary: Attraction is like a gravitational pull that is undefinable and unavoidable. Unbeknownst to you, Jude had been keeping an eye on you since he caught a glimpse on his best friend’s girlfriend’s Instagram but he’s been loving his single life. You always were independent and know how to swim on your own but maybe you have been just treading water. Could the tides change on a holiday in Greece when you finally meet? It might get a little rocky but maybe you could be his paradise.

Index

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series! ‘Act II’ is interconnected to the 'You’re Mine' and 'Ours' Series but can read it independently.

Chapter 10 - A Little Lost | ‘Act II’

word count - 10k

Since the day you left Madrid, Jude had been carrying a small notebook with him everywhere he went. At first, it was just a place to spill his thoughts, a space to process the whirlwind of emotions he didn’t know how to navigate. But as soon as he wrote the first sentence, he realized that every thought, every feeling, was meant for you. The notebook became his way of speaking to you when he couldn’t, of telling you everything he had kept inside for far too long. It started with small things—mundane moments that he would’ve shared with you if you were still in his life. He wrote about away games, detailing flights that were rough with turbulence, knowing you would’ve hated them. You’d always been nervous during flights, especially when the plane shook, and he could so vividly imagine holding your hand, comforting you in that quiet, intimate way only he knew how. He wrote about a brand event he had to attend, the kind you would’ve loved. He pictured you in a stunning dress, his hand instinctively resting on the small of your back as all the people in the room transfixed on your smile and envied him. He missed the way your presence made even the dullest of events shine. But as time passed, the pages of the notebook filled with more than just small anecdotes. They became love letters—confessions he hadn’t been brave enough to say out loud. He wrote about his dreams, both the silly ones and the ones that left him aching. He told you about the night he dreamed of you in his arms, just like before, and how waking up without you felt like losing you all over again. He confessed to arguments with his teammates, like the one he had with Toby, and how in the heat of it all, he had just wanted to call you and vent, knowing you’d calm him down. He wrote about his mum, how she missed you. How she’d bring you up every now and then, asking if you were doing okay, her voice full of concern. His heart would clench every time because he didn’t know. He didn’t know if you were okay, and that uncertainty gnawed at him more than he cared to admit. But most of all, the notebook became a testament to how much he loved you. Page after page, he poured his heart out in ways he never had the courage to do while you were still together. He wrote about how he should have told you how much you meant to him when he had the chance. How he regretted every fight, every misstep, every moment he let you slip away. He described the exact moment he realized he was in love with you—how it hit him like a freight train, and how terrified he was of it. And yet, despite his fear, the feeling never left. If anything, it grew stronger with every passing day, every page he filled. There were entries where he simply wrote your name over and over, as if seeing it on the page made you feel closer to him. Others were longer, detailing his apologies—how sorry he was for everything. For not being brave enough, for letting his insecurities come between you, for pushing you away when all he wanted was to pull you closer. And then, there were the moments when his love for you spilled out uncontrollably, when he wrote about how much he still needed you. How he missed your laughter, your voice, the way your presence made everything feel right. He missed the feeling of your hand in his, the sound of your breathing when you slept next to him, the way you’d nudge him playfully when he teased you. Every small detail that made up your relationship was etched into those pages—his heart laid bare, vulnerable, and raw. Jude carried the notebook like a lifeline, as if each word he wrote to you was a tether, keeping him connected to you in some way. Even though he wasn’t sure if you’d ever read them, he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop writing to you, telling you all the things he should have said while you were still his. There was one night, after a particularly bad game, where he sat alone in his hotel room, staring at the notebook. His hands trembled as he picked up the pen, the words spilling out faster than he could think. ‘I love you,’ he wrote, the words stark on the page. 

'I love you more than I know how to explain. And I’m terrified I’ll never get the chance to tell you that now. In my dreams you’re touching my face and asking me if I want to try again.'

It was the truest thing he’d ever written in that book. As the days passed, the notebook filled with his deepest fears, his sincerest apologies, and his undying love. And every time he flipped through the pages, he could feel you there, even though you were so far away. Even though you hadn’t spoken in what felt like forever. It was the only way he knew how to keep you close, even as the distance between you grew wider with every passing day. He just hoped, somehow, some way, that you’d feel it too. That maybe, one day, he could find the courage to give you the notebook, to let you see how much you had always meant to him. But for now, it was his silent confession, his love letter to the one person he couldn’t forget. There were nights when Jude found himself staring at the ceiling, the quiet of his room almost suffocating. He had the notebook nearby, as always, full of the thoughts he wished he could share with you, the words he never got to say. But tonight, it wasn't enough to just write. He missed you physically, emotionally, in every way imaginable. And though he had been longing for the closeness that came with sex, it wasn't just about that. It was the intimacy, the connection, the way your body pressed against his felt like home. The way, in those quiet moments, it was more than just physical-it was how you anchored him, how you made him feel understood and whole. Tonight, though, one memory in particular replayed over and over in his mind.

It was just after your holiday in Greece, the first time you came with him to Madrid. Everything had been easy then, carefree. Nothing had happened yet-none of the arguments, none of the jealousy, none of the heartbreak. In retrospect, Jude realized he should've known even then how special you were to him, but at the time, it had all seemed so light, so effortless. He remembered the day like it was yesterday. The sun had been scorching, golden light spilling over the back garden as you lounged by the pool, the scent of suncream and chlorine in the air. You were glowing in that tiny bikini, the one that had him doing double takes every time you moved. But it wasn't just the way you looked-though you were undeniably stunning-it was the way your laughter filled the space between you. The way it made his heart skip a beat every time you smiled, the kind of smile that reached your eyes and lit up your entire face. You'd been teasing him, like you always did, a playful gleam in your eyes as you suddenly jumped up and ran, your laughter trailing behind you. Jude remembered watching you, a mixture of joy and something deeper-something he couldn't quite put into words yet-bubbling up inside him as he chased after you. The way your skin shimmered in the sunlight, turning a different kind of gold, made his breath catch. He remembered how his hands finally caught your waist, pulling you close, your laughter turning into something softer as you pressed your lips to his neck. It was in that moment, as he held you close by the pool, your bodies slick with water and heat, that Jude had felt something shift inside him. He hadn't known what it was then-maybe he had been too afraid to name it—but he could feel it now. The way your lips on his skin felt like a fire he would gladly burn for. A fire he would willingly let consume him, over and over again. He hadn't realized it then, but it was already happening.

As he lay in bed, Jude dropped his head back into the pillow, the weight of that memory making his chest ache. He wished he could go back to that very moment-to feel the simplicity of it again, to hear your giggle echoing in his back garden as you tried to escape him, only for him to catch you and pull you back into his arms. He wanted to be back there, in the sunshine with you, before everything became so complicated. Before he messed it all up. He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair, frustrated at the fact that you were so far away. He missed you more than he knew how to express, and on nights like these, he felt that loss in the deepest parts of himself. It wasn't just the physical distance-it was the emotional chasm that had grown between you, a gap he didn't know how to bridge. As the memory faded, Jude reached for the notebook again, flipping to a blank page. He began to write, the pen moving across the paper as he tried to capture that feeling, that moment with you, in words. Maybe one day he'd find a way to share it with you. Maybe one day, you'd know how much that memory meant to him, how much you meant to him. But for now, it was just another secret confession, scrawled in ink, tucked away in the pages of a notebook that was quickly becoming a record of everything he was too late to say. He closed his eyes, the image of you in that bikini, laughing as you ran from him, still fresh in his mind. The ache in his chest lingered, wishing for just one more chance to hold you, to feel your warmth, to make you laugh again. He laid there for a moment and as much his heart was aching… something else began to ache. Jude couldn’t get the image of you in that bikini out of his mind. He couldn’t get the images of him taking it off you out of his mind. 

As the scorching Spanish sun beat down on the pool in the back garden, laughter and desire intertwined.  You found yourself in a playful mood, donning a skimpy bikini that showcased your gorgeous figure—a sight that immediately captured Jude's attention. He stood tall by the pool, his athletic build glistening with a light sheen of sweat. His tanned skin, a golden hue, contrasted beautifully with his deep brown eyes, which at the moment were fixed on you with unapologetic desire. With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you teased him, running around the pool deck, your laughter echoing across the garden. The game of cat and mouse began, and Jude, eager to catch his prey, gives chase. You giggled as you darted between the sun loungers, feeling the warmth of the stone beneath your bare feet. His footsteps closed in on you, and just as he reached out to grab you, you let out a playful squeal. Jude's strong arms wrapped around your waist, and you found yourself enveloped in his embrace. He pulled you close, your bodies pressing together, the heat between you intensifying. You wiggled playfully, feeling the hardness of his muscular body against your soft curves. His hands roamed freely, exploring your back, sending shivers down your spine.

"Gotcha, angel!" Jude whispered into your ear, his hot breath sending a delightful tingle down your neck. You squirmed in his grasp, a perfect mix of anticipation and excitement coursing through your veins. He tightened his hold, lifting you effortlessly off the ground and carrying you towards one of the plush pool loungers nearby. Gently, he laid you down, his eyes never leaving yours. The intensity of his gaze sent a jolt of arousal through your body. You reached up, running your hands over his hair, gripping it, pulling him closer for a kiss. His lips claimed yours passionately, and you responded eagerly, your tongues dancing in a sensual rhythm. As the kiss deepened, Jude's hands wandered, He untangled the ties of your bikini top with skilled fingers. He pulled away slightly, his eyes sparkling with lust, and then slowly he moved his lips down your body, using his teeth to untie the knot, sending a thrill through you. Your tits spilled into his waiting hands. He worshiped them with his touch, squeezing and caressing your sensitive nipples. Moans of pleasure escaped your lips as his skilled fingers worked magic, driving you to the brink of ecstasy. He lent down, replacing his fingers with his warm mouth, suckling your nipples and leaving a trail of kisses down your stomach. Your hands grasped his shoulders, urging him closer, craving the feeling of his skin against yours. Jude's hands traveled lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your bikini bottoms. He hooked his fingers and slid them down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to his hungry gaze and the Madrid air. The cool breeze brushing against your heated skin, causing goosebumps to rise. His name fell from your lips in a hoarse moan the moment you felt his fingers running through your wet folds. With his fingers between your legs now, you were practically dripping for him. You looked at him with your jaw slacked and lidded eyes. He unraveled you with each movement.  His fingers making quick work sinking knuckles deep inside you. His fingers hit the perfect spot inside you with every thrust and curl of their tips. Your back arching uncontrollably. A puddle on the surface of the chair you were laying on formed, your juices running down his hand. The way his breath felt against your sin as he kissed it and the force of his fingers, it all had you rushing towards your orgasm. You whimpered with gasps of air. Your pussy was absolutely soaked but you couldn’t think, your mind had gone blank.  

“Let go, baby. Be a good girl f’me. Cum f’me.” Jude said sternly instructing you and you wasted no time at all. Your orgasm was never ending. He persistently kept his fingers at work inside of you, slowing slightly but drawing your high out.  “Good girl. So fucking good f’me.” Jude cooed as you attempted to hold onto his muscular arm to prevent him from moving any more. He gave way and removed his fingers as he kissed your lips with his before he drew away and forcefully pushed his thumb in between your lips. You willingly opened them for him and looked at him doe eyed and desperate for more. He kept your lips agape as he slowly spit into your mouth before hungrily kissing you again. Jude wrapped your legs around his waist. He positioned himself between your thighs, his hard length pressing against your soft core. You arched your back again desperate, inviting him to take what felt rightfully his. With one swift motion, he entered you, filling you with a delicious fullness. The sensations were overwhelming as Jude began to move, his hips thrusting in a steady rhythm. His eyes never leaving yours, and you could see the raw desire reflected in their depths. He sets a relentless pace, his body pounding into yours, each stroke eliciting moans of pleasure from both of you.

"Oh fuck, Jude," you cried out, your voice hoarse with passion. "Yes, right there!" The pupils in his dark eyes dilated when he felt his cock pulse inside you. Every movement was slow, deep, and intentional. His lips curled into a smug smile hearing that he was doing a good job. You dragged your ankle down his back muscles. He was finding out quickly exactly how to touch you, how to drive you wild. His hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements, ensuring every thrust hits your sweet spot. The sounds of your pleasure fill the outdoor air—moans, gasps, and the wet, rhythmic slapping of skin on skin. As the tension builds, you can feel another orgasm approaching, a tidal wave of sensation ready to crash over you. Jude could sense your impending release and quickened his pace, his own breath becoming ragged.

"Cum for me, baby," he urged, his voice thick with lust. You moaned pulling him down to you more by the back of his neck dragging your nails harshly down his muscular back. He rested his forehead against yours sweetly as he continued to rail into you.  “Cum one more time f’me baby. Feels so good. Doing so well f’me.” He whispered between the lewd sounds of your squelching pussy. His thrusts sped up, rolling his hips into you as he chased his own orgasm. Your body tightened around him, and you cried out his name as the waves of pleasure washed over you once more. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you rode out the pulsating orgasm, your body trembling with its intensity. He thrusted harder, faster, his eyes rolling back as he surrendered to the bliss. He sunk his teeth into his perfect lower lip. You silently begged him to cum. His head tilted back. With a final powerful stroke, he emptied himself deep within you. Ropes of his cum filled the velvety inside of your pussy. He pumped you full gradually and slowly stilling. Your pussy continued to flutter as you panted beneath him. Your chest rising and falling. He softly stroked your hair and gently kissed you. “Did so good f’me.” He breathed, his voice filled with admiration. You smiled breathlessly as he kissed you again in a way that Jude prayed you could feel just how much he adored you with each one. In the aftermath of your passion by the pool, Jude collapsed onto the small space on the lounger, moving you to be on top of him now, both of you sweaty and satiated, keeping your bodies intertwined. You smiled, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.

As you stood, fingers grazing over the delicate fabric on the rack inside the department store, you let out a heavy sigh. The weight in your chest felt unbearable, and the artificial high of retail therapy wasn’t doing what it was supposed to. You thought the expensive price tags and shiny new outfits would mask the ache, but instead, it all felt hollow.Winnie came up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist in a gentle hug. She giggled softly, trying to lift your spirits. 

"At least you'll have an amazing top to wear when you're ready to get back out there," she teased lightly. But the words, meant to comfort, only made you feel worse. Your eyes welled with tears, and you sniffled, turning away from the clothes.

"I don’t want to get back out there, Win," you whispered, voice trembling. "I don’t want to show off for anyone else. I don’t want any other eyes on me… it’s not the same." You felt a tear slip down your cheek, quickly brushing it away before it could fall. Winnie turned you gently, her face softening in concern.

“Hey, it’s okay to feel that. You’re hurting, and no amount of shopping is gonna fix that.” You sighed, blinking back more tears, your throat tight. 

"I just… I only want to look good for him. Jude. He’s the only one who made me feel alive, you know? I used to get dressed up and know he’d look at me like I was the only person in the room. Now… I don’t feel like that anymore. I feel dull, like nothing will ever be the same without him."  Your hand fell from the hanger, the top you were about to buy suddenly meaningless. Shopping couldn’t fill the void Jude left behind, no matter how many racks you combed through. Winnie squeezed you tighter, trying to ground you as your words hung heavy between you. She rested her chin on your shoulder, feeling your pain as if it were her own.

 “I know, babe,” she whispered, trying to soothe you. “It’s okay to feel this way, you know. You don’t have to be ready to move on. It’s okay if all you want is him.” You shook your head, blinking back more tears as you stared blankly at the clothes in front of you, the vibrant fabrics and trendy designs suddenly feeling meaningless.

 “I feel so stupid,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I should be mad, right? I should be out there, showing him what he’s missing, living my best life. But I can’t. I just… I can’t.” Winnie turned you around in her arms, forcing you to look at her.

“You’re definitely not stupid. You’re in love. That’s not something you just get over in a snap. And you’re allowed to feel how you feel, even if it’s messy or complicated.” You sniffled, biting your lip as your eyes darted to the ground.

“But it’s more than that, Win. I wish I wanted to go out, find someone else, let some random guy sweep me off my feet, make Jude jealous. Hell, I wish I wanted to go fuck someone else but I don’t. I really don’t. The thought of someone else… It makes me sick. The idea of anyone touching me the way Jude did… it’s not even a comparison.”  Your voice cracked as the weight of your feelings pressed harder on your chest. “I tried that. I just want him,” you admitted, your heart breaking with every word. “I want to be in his bed, wearing his t-shirts, listening to him laugh at something stupid I said. I don’t want to go out and meet anyone new. I don’t want to pretend like I’m okay. I just want… him.”  Winnie sighed, her face soft with sympathy as she watched the tears finally fall. 

“I get it. I do. And I wish I could say something to make it all better, but I can’t. Only time will help… or maybe Jude will come to his senses and fix this… would you want him to?” She paused, her eyes searching yours, as if she was trying to find some glimmer of hope within you. You pouted at her, giving her the obvious answer that of course you did.  “Well, until then, you’ve got me. And we’ll get through this together, okay?” You nodded weakly, but the ache in your chest didn’t lessen. You pulled away from Winnie slightly, looking around the store, your heart heavy. 

“I just don’t get it, you know? I used to love coming to Bergdorfs. I used to get so excited to find something new, to go out and show it off. But now… now it feels like none of it matters.” You ran your fingers over a top you had been eyeing earlier, the fabric soft beneath your fingertips, but it didn’t bring you the same joy it once would have. “I don’t even want this,” you whispered, more to yourself than to Winnie. “I know I sound dramatic but none of it means anything without him. What’s the point of getting dressed up or going out if he’s not there to see it? If he’s not the one taking it off at the end of the night?” Winnie’s arms wrapped around you again, tighter this time, as if she could shield you from the pain with her embrace. 

“You don’t have to do it for anyone else,” she murmured. “If you don’t want to go out, don’t. If you don’t want to move on right now, don’t force it. It’s okay to miss him, and it’s okay to still want him. But you have to take care of yourself, too. Even if it’s hard.” You sighed heavily, the exhaustion of everything catching up with you.

“I’m trying,” you said softly. “But it’s like… suddenly, New York isn’t home anymore. Nothing feels like home without him. The city feels empty, cold. And I’ve never felt so far away from him… from myself.”  Your voice cracked again, and Winnie’s hand found yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“You’re not far from yourself,” she said gently. “You’re just hurting. And that’s okay. You’re allowed to grieve this, to feel lost. But you’ll find your way back. Whether that’s with Jude or without him, I know you will.” Her words brought a small comfort, but the ache in your chest remained.

“It just doesn’t feel like home without him,” you repeated, more to yourself. “He is my home, and now I don’t even know where I am anymore.” Winnie pulled you in tighter, her heart breaking for you.

 “I know, babe. But we’ll figure it out. Whether that means getting back to him or finding your own way again. I’m here, and we’ll figure it out.” For a moment, you just stood there, holding onto her, the weight of your heartbreak pressing down on you. You wanted to believe her, that you’d find your way back to yourself, but right now, all you could think about was how much you missed Jude. How much you still loved him, even after everything. You sighed again, pulling away from Winnie and running a hand through your hair.

 “I don’t want to meet anyone else, Win. I don’t want to move on. I just want him.” Winnie nodded, her eyes filled with understanding. 

“I know. And that’s okay. You don’t have to move on. But maybe… maybe you should tell him that.” She sympathetically smiled at you. 

You stared at your reflection in the mirror, the black sheer lace dress you had bought on a whim clinging to your body like a whisper. You could see your underwear beneath the fabric, and you almost laughed at how absurd this all felt. Yet, you couldn’t help but indulge in the fantasy for a moment, wondering what it would be like if you did go to Aurelian’s party. The new clothes from your shopping spree with Winnie sat scattered around you in your wardrobe, a reminder of how hard you were trying to distract yourself. An hour and half a bottle of Dom Pérignon later, you were sitting on the floor of your wardrobe, staring at your phone, your fingers hovering over the screen. The bubbly had loosened something in you, making you braver—or more reckless, depending on how you looked at it. Without thinking too much about it, you picked up your phone and shot off a flirty text to Aurelian, switching to French. 

‘Qu'est-ce que je suis censée porter à ta fête si je viens? Quoi qu'il en soit, je me sens déjà un peu sous-dressée…’ [What am I supposed to wear to your party if I come? Though, I already feel a little underdressed]

You pressed send before you could stop yourself. Your heart raced as you waited for a reply, feeling a strange mix of excitement and guilt swirl in your chest. When Aurelian’s response finally came through, you bit your lip as you read it, his words making your cheeks warm. 

‘Je ne t'ai jamais vue sans être magnifique. Je suis presque sûr que ce n'est pas les vêtements qui comptent…’ [I’ve never seen you look anything but magnificent. I’m pretty sure it’s not the clothes that matter.]

His implication was clear, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You found yourself smiling at his smooth compliment, your heart beating a little faster. You could feel the tension in the air between you, even through a phone screen, and for a moment, you wondered if you should let yourself lean into it.  Aurelian's next message popped up with an innocently enough question. 

 ‘Alors, à quoi pensais-tu?’ [So, what were you thinking?]

You stared at the text, the decision looming large before you. You could send him a photo right now—show him the drunken, seductive mess you were in this dress, the dress you probably wouldn’t have worn for anyone but Jude in the past. A part of you wanted to flirt, to let Aurelian see you this way, to forget for just a moment how much you missed Jude. 

But as you sat there, the phone still in your hand, you sighed. You couldn't shake the ache inside you, the ache that had nothing to do with Aurelian. It was Jude who filled your thoughts, Jude who made your heart race when you sent those types of flirty, suggestive photos. Jude who you were still in love with, even if it hurt like hell.You let your phone drop beside you, not replying to Aurelian’s message. The thought of sending that picture, or even entertaining the idea of someone else, just didn’t feel right. It didn’t fill the void you were hoping it would. It only reminded you of what you were missing—what you still wanted, even though you had tried to convince yourself otherwise. With a heavy sigh, you rested your head against the a cabinet drawer, the sheer dress now feeling more like a reminder of the distance between where you were and where you wanted to be. You weren’t ready to move on. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

You were sitting on your couch, half-watching the cityscape outside your window mindlessly when your phone rang. It was your mum. You answered with a smile, but the moment she mentioned your dad had watched the Madrid match, your stomach twisted in knots. 

"He was so excited, you know? Your dad, watching the game. And then... well, I’ve been feeling like I’m keeping something from him," she said softly but you could almost hear her smile through the phone. "I mean, about you and Jude." You froze, your throat tightening. 

"Mum, we’re not... we’re not seeing each other anymore." You sheepishly admitted hating each word as it came out of your mouth.  

"What do you mean? I thought—" There was a pause on the other end of the line, the confusion hanging in the air like a weight. 

"It’s over," you said quickly, the words feeling foreign, like they didn’t belong to you. "I ended it." With every follow-up question she asked, you felt your resolve crumbling, the walls you had built up to protect yourself beginning to crack. And then, as you tried to explain, your voice broke, a sob you hadn’t expected rising in your chest. Tears slipped from your eyes, and it was like you couldn’t stop them once they started. You never cried, not like this, not with your mum. The moment she heard the hitch in your voice, her tone shifted. She dropped into the familiar comfort of French, her voice soft and maternal. 

"Ma chérie, oh non, mon bébé, ne pleure pas. C’est bon, je suis là. Papa et moi, nous sommes là pour toi. Viens nous voir, viens à Paris.” [My darling, oh no, my baby, don’t cry. It’s okay, I’m here. Dad and I, we're here for you. Come see us, come to Paris.] Her words wrapped around you like a blanket, but instead of comforting you, they made the ache worse. You cried harder, the sobs tearing out of you, unexpected and overwhelming. There was something about her offer, the thought of going back to Paris with a broken heart, that made the hurt feel even sharper. Paris had always been your sanctuary, your favorite place on earth. You didn’t want to taint it with the sadness that now clung to you like a second skin. The idea of walking those familiar streets, eating at your favorite cafés, all while carrying the weight of your broken heart—it was unbearable.

"I... I don’t think I can, Mum," you choked out between sobs. "I don’t want to go to Paris like this. I really don’t want to ruin it." You muttered.

"Rien ne peut ruiner Paris pour toi, ma chérie.” [Nothing can ruin Paris for you, my darling.] She soothed, her voice soft and steady. "Paris misses you almost as much as we do." But you shook your head, even though she couldn’t see it.

"I feel so lost. I know I haven’t known him for that long but I don’t even know who I am without him anymore. And if I go to Paris like this, I’m scared it’ll never be the same again.” 

“Tu es forte, mon amour. Plus forte que tu ne le penses. Et peu importe ce que tu ressens maintenant, tu retrouveras ton chemin. Come to Paris. We’ll help you heal.” [You are strong, my love. Stronger than you think. And no matter how you feel now, you will find your way back. Come to Paris. We’ll help you heal.] Her words were like balm on a wound, but it didn’t stop the fear from gnawing at you. You hadn’t realized how deep this heartbreak had cut, how much it had seeped into every part of your life. Even the thought of Paris, a place you’d always associated with joy and love, felt tainted now. 

"I just... I don’t know how to do this, Mum. I don’t know how to move on." You wrapped your arms around yourself, the tears slowing but your chest still heavy. Telling your mum you were hurting made you feel like a little girl. 

"Tu n’as pas à savoir maintenant. C’est pour ça qu’on est là. Come to Paris, ma chérie. Papa et moi, on s’occupera de toi." [You don’t have to know right now. That’s why we’re here. Come to Paris, my darling. Dad and I will take care of you.] You cried quietly as she continued to console you, her words soft and loving, trying to bring you comfort in a moment where comfort felt impossible. You knew she was right, that eventually, you’d have to find your way back to yourself. But right now, in the middle of the heartache, it felt like you were drifting, lost and untethered.

After what felt like your and Jude’s denouement you were struggling with the overwhelming weight of your emotions crush your resolve. You couldn’t do this alone—not anymore. The only person you could think or want to call was Whitney. Whitney, who had always been there for you, who understood the unique challenges of loving an English footballer, a man with a similar life as Jude. With trembling hands, you dialed her number.

“Helllooo” Whitney sang. “What’s up?” When Whitney picked up, her voice was warm and familiar, instantly calming some of your anxiety. But you couldn’t hold back the sob that escaped you. 

“Whit… can I come stay with you? Please? Whit…” You whimpered as you began to bawl.

“Of course, you can. What’s wrong? Are you okay?” The concern in Whitney’s voice was immediate. You tried to gather herself, but the tears kept coming. 

“I just… I can’t be here. I need to get away. I need to be somewhere safe. I can’t be alone like this.” You wept as your whole body shook of fear and heartbreak.

“Don’t worry about anything,” Whitney assured you. “Just get on the next flight over here. Come be with me. Trent and I are here for you always.” Whitney sympathetically told you. 

By the time you arrived at Trent and Whitney’s house, you were exhausted—emotionally, physically, completely drained. You stood at the doorstep, your heart heavy as you padded in the lock code Whitney gave you. As you opened the door, the alarm bell rang through their massive home that was filled to the brim with love and warmth that made you want to cry upon entry. The other thing that made you want to cry was their sweet little two year old girl, Teddy running towards you. Her bare feet pitter pattering on the flooring.

“Y/N!” Teddy exclaimed, her tiny face lighting up with pure joy. “Miss! Missed!” She giggled as the dimples in her cheeks sank.  You felt your heart swell at the sight of this little girl you loved so much. You dropped to your knees and scooped Teddy up into a tight hug, letting the warmth of the embrace soothe you for a moment. But then, the tears came again, unbidden and unstoppable. Trent appeared at the door next, concern etched on his face. He watched as you clung to his daughter, tears streaming down your cheeks. Without a word, he walked over and gently lifted Teddy from your arms. He kissed your temple softly, offering silent comfort.

“It’s okay,” Trent murmured, holding Teddy close as she babbled nonsense about missing you happily in his arms. “Whatever’s going on. You’re gonna be alright.” He cooed. 

“Come on, let’s get you inside,” Whitney said softly, leading you into the cozy living room after she appeared at your side, her arm wrapping around your shoulders. You settled on the couch, and Whitney handed you a glass of wine. “Talk to me,” Whitney urged gently. “Tell me what’s going on.” You took a shaky breath, staring into the wine glass as if it held all the answers. You knew you needed to talk, to let it all out—but the words felt stuck in your throat. Whitney waited patiently, her presence a steady, calming force. 

“I messed everything up, Whit. I tried to protect myself, and I ended up pushing him away. I don’t know what to do.” You whimpered. Finally, you looked up, your voice trembling. Whitney reached out, placing a comforting hand on your knee. 

“I hardly think you messed everything up. He cares so much about you. I’m here to listen so let’s start from the beginning,” she said softly. “I’m here for you, Y/N. Whatever it is, whatever is best for you, we’ll figure it out together.” As the night went on, you poured out your heart, the tears falling freely as you recounted everything that had happened with Jude. All the things Whitney already knew, all the things Whitney didn’t. All of it, dirty and otherwise. She listened, offering support and understanding in a way only she could. The wine helped to dull the edges of your pain, but it was the kindness and warmth of Whitney and her little family that truly began to soothe the deep ache inside you. After a long, emotional conversation, Whitney noticed your exhaustion weighing heavily on you. But she also knew that you needed more than just one person to lean on right now. With a reassuring smile, Whitney pulled out her phone.

“I think it’s time to bring in another opinion. It’s only right,” Whitney said, giving you a wink as she tapped on her screen. Moments later, the familiar face of Winnie appeared on the screen. Winnie’s bright smile greeting you with her usual energy. 

“Wow, thanks for the invite! I didn’t know you were going over Y/N.” Winnie teased seeing you and Lauren on the same couch but then she paused, taken aback by the expressions on your faces. “What’s going on? Look like you’ve had a good cry.” She asked a bit cautiously.  You managed a small smile as Whitney explained the progression of your situation. Winnie listened intently, her face softening with empathy as the story unfolded. She was rambunctious and fun, but she also had a deep well of understanding that made her the perfect person to talk to when things got heavy. After that night at the club, Winnie had been there for you. Both of these girls always were.

“So let me just recap here.,” Winnie said, leaning closer to the camera as if she could step through the screen to be with you. “You and Jude are head over heels for each other, but you’re both too scared to admit it, so you’re pushing each other away, sleeping with other people and then just not talking about it?” Winnie summarized the situation a bit too bluntly. 

“Win… they’re in love with each other.”  Whitney rebuffed. “Sure, Jude’s been fucking stupid but Y/N now has created distance… rightfully so by the way.” Whitney turned to you, squeezing your leg. “Problem is, now, there’s a chasm they don’t know what to do with. Y/N is trying to weigh what to do.” Whitney sadly smiled. 

“What’s gonna hurt less.” Winnie responded. “But…” Winnie piped up again. “I mean… a little pain isn’t the worst thing in the world. It’s horrible but on the other side of it... I think maybe an in person conversation, if you can manage it might be good.”

“I agree. And then if the direction turns you get to decide. You get to call it. You clearly love each other and saying it over the phone just isn’t right. Not when it’s real love.” Whitney ever the romantic cooed. You blushed at the ideas, nodding hesitantly, trying to keep your composure. 

“I really love him… I think.” You pouted at them. Feeling not much better about Jude specifically but much better talking with them. “I’m such a fucking sap now. Whitney, you did this to me.” You whined falling into her lap dramatically. Both girls giggled as you dragged yourself to sit back up.  

“Love is amazing!” Whitney sang kissing your forehead. She had no quam introducing you and Jude. She thought love was great. You usually watched Whitney’s relationship from a distance, thinking it was crazy she was down so bad for a man but now you understood her more than ever. And at the moment you envied her happy relationship more than ever. 

“The make up sex will be amazing!!” Winnie added, mocking Whitney’s tone. Whitney chuckled, shaking her head. Before you could respond, Teddy came bounding into the room, her little feet pattering against the floor.

 “Mama!” she called out, her eyes lighting up as she spotted Whitney. She climbed up onto the couch clumsily, nestling herself into Whitney’s lap, and wrapped her tiny arms around her mother’s neck. Whitney kissed Teddy’s cheek, holding her close as she continued the conversation.

“It’s not easy, Y/N. But pushing him away because you’re scared will only hurt you both more.” You and her both exchanged sad smiles. Teddy let go on Whitney and clumsily flopped onto your lap giving your thigh a hug smushing her face against your leg. She could sense your sadness and even though she probably couldn’t understand why, her silly hug did more than she knew. Just after, Trent appeared in the doorway, looking slightly sheepish. “Sorry, ladies,” he said, running a hand over his hair. “She slipped away from me. She’s quick y’know.” He laughed. You smiled at the sight of Trent, feeling a strange sense of comfort in the normalcy of the scene. 

“It’s okay,” you said, your voice softer now. “I could use all the cuddles I can get.” You cooed. Trent chuckled, giving a quick hello to Winnie and then Teddy a playful nudge before scooping her up. Whitney gave your hand a gentle squeeze. Trent plopped onto another seat in the room with Teddy, the two of them falling into their own little conversation. 

“You don’t have to figure it all out right now,” she said softly. “But you should be honest with yourself about how you feel, you should ask him point blank how he feels, you deserve someone who will love you fearlessly. Not all this bullshit he’s been doing. At the end of it all, do what is right for your heart, your peace. Just please take care of this girl because she means a lot to me.” Whitney smiled as she pinched at your waist.  Winnie nodded on the screen in agreement, her expression serious and stoic. 

“Exactly. We’re here for you, Y/N. Whatever you decide, you’re not alone in this but also don’t pretend cheap navy polyester blend sheets are ever going to make you feel the way white Italian made Frette sateen do.” She meant it metaphorically but maybe seriously as well about bedroom antics. Whitney shrugged partly agreeing about the bed linen comment. You were a group of three, well four including Teddy, very spoiled girls. You looked at the two sisters and then at Teddy, who was now contentedly playing with the hem of Trent’s top. For the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t feel so lost. After the conversation with Winnie wrapped up, Whitney decided it was time to shift the mood to something lighter. 

“You know what we need? A Chinese,” she declared, already pulling up the menu on her phone. 

“Whit, baby, you know I can’t have that—I’m in season.” Trent, now lounging comfortably in the corner of the couch with Teddy perched on his lap, raised an eyebrow in protest.

“You’ll survive. Y/N likes the place we order from here so that’s what we’re getting.” Whitney shot him a playful but firm look. Trent sighed, defeated, while Teddy giggled at her father’s expense. 

“Dada no hungry?” Teddy chirped asking Trent, grabbing at his shirt. “Like ‘neese.” She giggled, unable to properly pronounce ‘chinese’ just yet.

“Nah, baby bear. I’m very hungry!” Trent corrected her as he dramatically squeezed Teddy tight to him, locking her in place as he began to nom on her chubby cheek teasingly as she squealed and giggled. You sighed hearing Trent call Teddy his little nickname, a two year olds giggle booming in the room, your best friend watching her family. You felt so lonely in a moment when you couldn’t have been less alone. Soon enough, the smell of takeout filled the house. You gathered around their dining table. Trent’s eyes lingered longingly on the orange chicken, but he dutifully stuck to his more athlete-friendly meal, occasionally sneaking glances at everyone else’s plates.

“Mama, no tanks.” Teddy, still on Trent’s lap, scrunched her nose at the sight of broccoli on her plate. It was simply genetics but there was something funny about watching both Trent, over orange chicken, and Teddy, over broccoli, give Whitney their best identical puppy dog eyes pleading for her approval. 

“Ted, baby,  gotta eat those please. Just a few bites for me, cute girl.” Whitney replied, not missing a beat. “You… “ her eyes flashed to Trent. “Learn some self control. Eat your grilled chicken and set an example for your daughter.”  She giggled. “Eat your broccoli.” She smirked, moving a container more towards them. With a dramatic sigh, both Teddy and Trent picked up a piece of broccoli and nibbled at it. As you ate, the conversation flowed naturally, drifting back to the earlier topic. Trent, who had been mostly quiet regarding the Jude situation, finally chimed in.

“Look, Y/N, I get it. Jude’s been a…” He paused momentarily to cover Teddy’s ears. “He’s been a fucking idiot because he’s scared, just like you are. But being scared doesn’t mean you should just give up on the whole relationship.” He cooed. Your fork paused halfway to your mouth, and you looked at Trent, feeling a mix of gratitude and frustration. 

“T, Jude and I aren’t even in a relationship. We’re just… I don’t even know what we are. And at the moment really nothing at all.”  You sighed, upset that it wasn’t like you were repairing something with a boyfriend. Jude was nothing to you because you never got to labels and that was the problem. Trent leaned forward slightly, his expression serious but kind. 

“You say that and I know that Jude should’ve fixed exactly that but you’re more than just nothing, that’s for sure. But if you just push it all away and ignore what you want, you’re never going to know what it could be.” He softly smiled at you. Whitney nodded in agreement, giving you a similar gentle smile. 

“I don’t want to pile on because I know it’s hard but T’s right, you know. You can’t let fear control this. Jude should be the one to fix it but if it’s something you want it’s worth maybe at least asking one more time.” Whitney pouted a bit being a hopeless romantic. You took a deep breath, letting their words sink in. You knew they were right, but that didn’t make it any easier. Still, there was something comforting about the way you all sat around the table, talking through the mess of emotions that had been haunting you for weeks. When you finished your meal, you felt a little lighter, as if the weight of your fears had been shared among you all. Teddy, after finally eating her vegetables, grinned triumphantly as Whitney handed her a small bowl of ice cream.

“See? Not so bad. You and Daddy are so picky sometimes ” Whitney teased, running her hand over Trent’s head whilst pressing a kiss to Teddy’s hair. You smiled, feeling a warmth you hadn’t felt in a while. Maybe, just maybe, you could find a way to navigate this confusing thing with Jude. And if you stumbled along the way, at least you knew you had people who would catch you.  As the evening wound down, Whitney guided you to the guest room, a comforting hand on your back. You carried Teddy, who insisted on following you two, her tiny arms wrapped around your neck. When you reached the room, you gently placed Teddy down before flopping onto the bed with a dramatic sigh. The weight of the day, the emotions, and the uncertainty all seemed to catch up with you at once. But the despair was short-lived as Teddy, ever the little bundle of joy, clambered up onto the bed beside you, mimicking your flop with a giggle. The sound was infectious, and despite yourself, you found a smile breaking through. You leaned over and planted a few playful kisses on Teddy’s cheeks, each one drawing more giggles from the little girl. It was moments like these that made everything feel a bit more manageable. Whitney sat on the edge of the bed, watching you with a sympathetic smile. She knew you were still hurting, still conflicted, but she also knew that you needed to confront those feelings head-on. 

“You should talk to Jude, Y/N,” Whitney said softly, her tone gentle but insistent. Hearing Jude’s name, Teddy’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“Mama, miss Judey!” she exclaimed, her voice bright and innocent, free of the complications that you were grappling with. Your heart clenched a little at Teddy’s words. You hugged Teddy close, pressing another kiss to her cheek. 

“Me too, Ted. Me too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Whitney watched you, her heart aching for her friend but also hopeful that this might be the push you needed.

“He misses you too, Y/N. Don’t let this slip away without at least trying to fight for it.” You nodded slowly, your mind racing with all the things you wanted to say to Jude, all the things you were too afraid to admit even to yourself. But as you lay there with Teddy cuddled up beside you, you knew that Whitney was right. It was time to stop running, time to face whatever this thing with Jude was—no matter how terrifying it might be. You laid in bed, the darkness of the room doing little to quiet your mind. Every time you closed your eyes, thoughts of Jude filled your head—his smile, his laugh, the way he made you feel both terrified and alive all at once. You watched the hours tick by, each passing minute only intensifying the ache in your chest. You missed him, more than you wanted to admit. 

You accompanied Whitney to one of Trent’s Liverpool matches. After the game, you two along with Trent and his brother, Marcel went out for dinner. You didn’t feel happy per se but you felt relaxed and just comforted by their normalcy and the layer of wine rushing through your system definitely helped lighten your mood. As Whitney excused herself to the bathroom and a fan engaged Trent in conversation, you felt a sudden charge of freedom wash over you. It was like a door had opened, offering a brief moment to do something reckless. Marcel's arm had found its way around your shoulders, and what started as an innocent gesture quickly shifted into something more intense, at least in your mind. In Marcel’s mind it was more in a platonic friend way steadying your drunk movements. You leaned in closer, feeling the alcohol take hold of your thoughts, pushing boundaries you might not have dared cross otherwise. Your thumb brushed over Marcel's lips, slow and deliberate, tracing the shape of them with a glint in your eye. You were testing the waters, watching for his reaction, letting the thrill of mischief spark through you. Marcel smirked despite himself, recognizing the shift in energy, the subtle tension that had bloomed between you two. His heart raced momentarily, tempted by the familiarity of this dynamic. You had hooked up before, and that memory lingered, pulling at the edges of his resolve.

"You have really nice lips," you murmured, eyes flicking down to them and then back up to his face, the challenge implicit in your voice. Marcel chuckled, his hand gently closing around yours as he pulled it away from his lips.

"Thank you sweetheart," he said, with a soft laugh.His tone light but cautious. "They get the job done." He cooed. You giggled, flashing your eyes down to his lips again, emboldened by his response. The banter felt dangerous, electric. There was a fire in your belly that only seemed to grow as you watched his smirk soften into something more serious. The thrill of pushing the line, seeing how far you could take it, was exhilarating. You felt like you were barreling toward something you couldn't quite control, but instead of stopping, you let yourself teeter closer to the edge. The energy between you two was shifting fast, spiraling into something much more charged. It was like standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing the fall would hurt but craving the rush of it anyway. You felt alive in a way you hadn't since things with Jude fell apart, and it felt dangerous, intoxicating.

“I know.” You cooed with a a smug smile. For a split second, you let yourself imagine it—the temptation, the thrill of crossing that line again with Marcel. You were flirting with danger, and a part of you loved the recklessness of it. But Marcel wasn't moving. He hadn't leaned in. He hadn't taken the bait. You could see it in his eyes, the internal battle he was fighting, the temptation wrestling with his conscience. The way his gaze flicked away from yours, the way he gently squeezed your hand as if to ground himself, it all told you he wasn't going to let this go any further. Not tonight. For a moment, you felt the excitement drain, leaving behind a hollow ache. You weren't really after Marcel. You were after the thrill, the distraction from the gnawing emptiness that had been eating away at you since Jude. But as you sat there, staring at Marcel's careful, measured response, you realized this wasn't what you wanted. Not really.

“Lucky you,” he teased, playing along with the joke you started, but there was an undertone of seriousness as his gaze lingered on you a little too long. Marcel’s soft laugh echoed in your ears, his casual response almost distracting you from the sting of rejection you felt coming. You giggled, but the sound was empty, your heart heavy with the weight of what you knew was coming. You sighed, the giggle fading, and pouted without meaning to, feeling childish but unable to stop yourself. The alcohol had lowered your guard, and now, there was nowhere to hide from the vulnerability that was surfacing. Marcel noticed the shift in you, and instead of pulling away, he turned to face you fully. Gently, he lifted your face from where it had been resting against his shoulder, cupping your cheeks with his hands. His touch was soft, tender even, as he looked directly into your eyes. “Listen, it’s not that I wouldn’t,” he began, his voice low but steady. “Or that I’m not interested. You’re gorgeous, and trust me… I hate that I’m saying no. That the right thing is no.” He paused, watching the way your eyes searched his, needing more from him, something to fill the emptiness you’d been carrying. “But you don’t actually want this.” You felt the weight of his words settle over you, sinking in as tears began to form on your lash line. You blinked, trying to hold them back, but it was no use. He was right, of course. Deep down, you knew you didn’t want this. Not really. Marcel wasn’t the person who filled the aching void in your chest. You were after the thrill, the distraction from the gnawing emptiness that had been eating away at you since Jude. But as you sat there, staring at Marcel's careful, measured response, you realized this wasn't what you wanted. Not really. Still, the rejection hurt. Your cheek leaned further into his hand, seeking comfort in his touch. You nodded, unable to form the words to admit the truth aloud, and Marcel’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest. His lips pressed a soft kiss into your hair, and you took a deep, shaky breath, inhaling the warmth of his embrace. You pulled away from the hug, your eyes glassy with unshed tears. You managed a small smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes as you glanced up at him. You blinked, the haze clearing just enough for reality to settle back in. You felt a pang of regret. Not for what almost happened, but for the emptiness that made you chase after it in the first place.

“Would you, though? If things were different?” The question slipped out, your drunken state loosening your tongue. It wasn’t a fair question to ask, but you needed to know, needed some kind of validation that you still had ‘it.’ Marcel chuckled softly at first, but then his face grew serious. His eyes darkened, his gaze holding yours as he leaned in closer, his hand sliding down to your waist, his thumb brushing over the bare skin of your stomach where your shirt had ridden up. He whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. 

“Y/N… You know the answer.” He smirked. “We’ve lived that answer so trust me…you have no idea,” he said, his voice low, sending a shiver down your spine. “If things were different, you wouldn’t still be sitting at this table.” The confession sent a rush through you, a sense of relief flooding your system, like a validation you hadn’t realized you needed. It was a reminder that you still had ‘it,’ that you were still desirable. But as the relief settled in, so did something else—a deeper realization. You didn’t want ‘it’ with Marcel. You didn’t want to be here, chasing after validation from someone who wasn’t the person you truly wanted. You wanted Jude. You wanted the warmth of his arms around you, the sound of his voice telling you that you were the only one for him. No matter how good it felt to hear Marcel’s words, they weren’t enough to fill the void. With a sigh, you pulled away from Marcel, giving him a small, grateful smile. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, unsure if you were thanking him for the compliment or for stopping you from making a mistake. Marcel just nodded, his expression soft, understanding. 

“You’ll be okay,” he said quietly. “You’re just... a little lost right now.” And he was right. You were lost, but maybe, just maybe, you were starting to find your way back. As Whitney returned and Trent's conversation ended, the moment dissolved into the background, just another part of the night. But the lingering feeling stayed with you, a reminder of how far away you still felt from the person you used to be-and the person you wanted to be again.

🪩🫶❤️‍🔥🍹🌞🍒 Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter 🍒🌞🍹❤️‍🔥🫶🪩

Next part - Chapter 11 - Go xx

[bones4thecats]

Hi, it's me again. Can I request twst with a gn reader where they meet their future child if you could 🫶🏻

➸ Twst! Future Child; Ace Trappola × S/O

Character: Ace Trappola A/N: I've read so many of these that I've wanted to write my own one, so thanks for requesting this 🫶🏻Anon! Disclaimer(s): Nothing

╔══════════════════════════════════════════╗

╚═════ Ace Trappola ═══════════════════════════╝

🪅 Ace hummed as he walked around the campus, his footsteps matching the beats of the song playing in his earbuds. He was ready to go see you at your dorm in Pomefiore

🪅 As he walked around, he noticed Yuu running around with a tiny child following him. This confused Ace, as there were no children that ever came to NRC, especially one that would've known Yuu other than Cheka, and that prince was back home (he thinks)

🪅 He watched as Grim tackled the child, making them fall into the ground. Yuu then walked back and picked up the kid, next thing he knew, Grim was yelling his name and motioning for him to come over as fast as possible

🪅 Ace stepped up and looked at the young girl in Yuu's arms. The little girl was gripping onto his sleeve and messing around with his sleeve as Grim asked him what he thought the child looked like and if she was familiar

🪅 He narrowed his eyes and tilted his head lightly as he observed the child

🪅 She did look slightly like him, and her eyes did remind him of your own. But, you guys had no children so there was no way that she could be yours. Perhaps his brother had a secret love child?

"Dada!" She yelled, making everyone look at her shocked.

"Ace, you have a child?!"

"What? No! If I ever did, you think I'd let her come to this school?!"

"Ace? What's going on?"

🪅 Turning around quickly, everyone looked at you as you walked up. You were dressed up differently than you would, as you weren't wearing your Pomefiore uniform, so Yuu and Grim had to contemplate who you were for a second

"Nothing!"

"Mama!"

"Oh Great Sevens..."

🪅 Looking at the toddler, you smiled and picked her up. She just laughed and you tossed her up and down, a cute, chubby smile being placed on her cute, chubby face. Her cheeks grew a tiny rose-tone as she laughed with you

🪅 Ace flushed slightly as you messed with the baby perfectly. All of a sudden, they could hear the push of magic come through as a portal appeared out of literally nowhere

"Casi! Where are you, sweetheart!"

🪅 Everyone's eyes widened and jaws dropped as a taller and more mature-looking you came through the portal. Your hair was tied up in a messy bun as your long-sleeved yellow turtleneck with overalls popped against the more desolate colors around you all

"Oh, there you are!" Future you said.

🪅 Future! You ran up and grabbed your baby gently, hugging her as you smiled and scolded her for touching her Father's magical pen without permission, resulting in her being sent into the past

"Uhm... who are you? Because you look a lot like my girlfriend." Ace said nervously.

"She's our future wife, and mother to our child." said a taller Ace from the portal's opening.

"Wait- that's Y/N?! And you guys have a child?!" Yuu yelled.

"Yes...? Oh, we're in NRC, which means we just started dating a couple months ago. Sorry for spoiling the future, young us!" Future you said as you giggled.

🪅 You nervously smiled as you buried your face inside of your hoodie's hood, pulling the strings to keep your beyond-flustered face hidden from the surrounding people

"We should get going, Honey. Deuce said he needed us for his lesson at the Academy."

"I swear... Deuce needs to find another person to perform magic tricks. You're busy with work so much." Future you said as you walked away, your baby cooing in your arms as you walked.

🪅 While you and Future Ace walked into the portal and back to your time, baby Casi waved and yelled goodbye to you and the others in the area. And when they disappeared, Ace turned to look at you, only to see you were gone

🪅 He then pulled out his phone as messaged you

Mace-the-Ace❤️: Y'know we can make that future start earlier than intended Thorn-Hearted❤️❤️: Fuck off. Thorn-Hearted❤️❤️: love you... Mace-the-Ace❤️: Love you to! Thorn-Hearted❤️❤️: *Too Mace-the-Ace❤️: Shut up.

[itneverendshere]

maybe wheezie or even sarah needing rafe to pick them up from school or attend a back to school night. like the school calls rafe to pick up sarah after getting in a fight. or the teacher calls him in to discuss that wheezie struggling in math

thank you for the request!!! 🫶🏻🫂 i think rafe's always had a soft spot for wheezie so i did this one for her cause i personally can see their dynamic being really cute.

 we're both older now - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

Sitting in the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck, you couldn’t help but sneak glances at him. His hands were on the wheel, jaw clenched just enough for you to notice, but not enough to freak out.

It’s been months since rehab, and you swear, you’ve never seen him like this before—so focused, so... responsible. It’s kinda hot.

But that’s not what you’re here for. Not right now.

You’re headed to Wheezie’s school because, apparently, she’s been struggling with math. She didn’t want to tell Rafe because Ward’s rarely at home these days and she didn’t want to bother him. When you found out, you could’ve smacked her. You get it—Rafe’s been under a lot of pressure lately—but you don’t think she realizes how much he cares about her. That’s why you two are heading to a parent-teacher meeting like it’s the most normal thing in the world. It’s not. 

“I should’ve known something was off,” Rafe mutters, breaking the silence.

You look over at him. “You couldn’t have. Wheezie’s good at keeping stuff to herself.”

He shakes his head, his grip tightening on the wheel just a little. “I’m her brother. I should’ve noticed.”

You reach over, resting your hand on his arm. “You’re doing your best, baby. That matters.”

He lets out a breath, his tension easing under your touch. God, sometimes it’s hard to believe he’s the same guy who used to pick fights at every chance he got just a few years ago. It’s been almost a year since his last relapse, but every day you see him fighting to be better—for himself, for you, for his sisters. And honestly? It does something to you, seeing him like this. 

You pull into the school parking lot, and he parks the truck, turning off the engine. For a second, he just sits there, staring straight ahead. You know what he’s thinking. He’s wondering if he’s good enough to handle this, to handle all of it.

“You got this,” You say softly.

Together, you walk into the school, and after a quick conversation with the receptionist, you’re led to Wheezie’s teacher’s classroom. The room smells like dry-erase markers and stress, the kind you remember from my own high school days.

Except, this is a private school, completely different from what you were used to, and back then, you loved school. You were good at it too—really good, actually. Straight A’s, honors, full ride to a decent college…but life had other plans.

You look at Rafe as you wait for the teacher to start the meeting. He’s sitting up straight, listening intently, and your chest tightens a little.

The same guy who used to blow off any responsibility now sitting here, laser-focused, ready to step up for his little sister. The teacher starts talking about Wheezie’s grades, how she’s been falling behind in math, and you can see the guilt in his face. You squeeze his knee under the table, trying to ground him, but honestly? This was hitting a little too close to home for you, too.

“I can help her,” You hear yourself say before you’ve even really thought about it. Rafe turns to look at you, surprised, and you shrug like it’s no big deal.

The teacher blinks, probably not expecting the girlfriend to jump in with a solution. “What did you score on your final exams?”

You move in your seat, not expecting the question but not exactly shy about your answer either. "I got a 1600 on my SATs," You said, trying to sound casual about it, even though you could see Rafe’s eyebrows shoot up next to you. 

The teacher’s eyes widen slightly. "That’s impressive," she says, "You must’ve had a lot of options for college."

You shrug again feeling that familiar feeling of bittersweet regret. "Yeah, I had a full ride to a few places.”

“And you didn’t go?”

The way she says says it—like she can’t imagine why you wouldn’t go—hurts a little. 

"Yeah, well... life happened." You try to brush it off like it doesn’t bother you.

Rafe’s hand slides over to yours under the table, interlocking your fingers and giving you a gentle squeeze. It’s subtle, but it’s enough for you. To remind you that you made the right choices, even if they weren’t easy ones.

The meeting wraps up pretty quickly after that.

The teacher gives Rafe some advice on how to help Wheezie stay on track, and you both thank her before heading out of the classroom. As you walk down the hallway, he stays quiet for a bit, and you can’t really read what’s going through his head.

By the time you get back to the truck, he turns to you, his brow furrowed slightly, like he’s still processing everything. "You got a perfect score on your SATs?"

Three years into the relationship and he’s still learning things about you every day.

You let out a small laugh, brushing some hair behind your ear. "Yeah. It’s not a big deal."

"That’s kinda insane," he says, looking at you like he’s seeing a whole new side of you. “Why didn’t you ever tell me that?”

You shrug for the millionth time today, suddenly feeling a little shy. “I don’t know. It just never came up. It’s not like it matters now, anyway.”

"It does matter." His voice is firm, and when you glance over, you can see how serious he looks. "You gave up a lot to help your sister. That’s not nothing."

Your throat tightens, and you have to swallow down the emotion rising inside you. The way Rafe says it, like he actually gets it, means more than he probably knows. "I just did what I had to do."

He nods slowly, like he understands that feeling all too well. "You didn’t have to offer to help Wheezie today. But you did.”

You don’t want to make a big deal out of it. "I want to help her. She deserves it."

Rafe doesn’t say anything, just looks at you with this soft, almost disbelieving expression. Like he can’t wrap his head around the fact that you’re still here, beside him, helping his family without a second thought.

"You’re amzing, y’know that?" he murmurs, his voice low and warm in that way that makes your stomach flip.

You feel your cheeks heat up, a shy smile tugging at your lips. "Stop."

"I mean it." He reaches over, cupping your face gently with his hand, thumb brushing lightly across your cheek. His eyes soften as they meet yours, filled with so much adoration it makes you want to hide. "I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m really fucking grateful."

You bite your lip, glancing down at his other hand on your knee before looking back up at him.

"You’ve been working hard. For yourself, for us. I see that."

His jaw tightens just slightly, and he looks down, almost like he’s not sure how to take the compliment. But when his eyes meet yours again,

"I’m trying," he says quietly. "I’m trying to be better."

"And you are," you whisper. "Every day."

The months of hard work, the late nights when you’ve held him through his doubts, the mornings when he’s shown up for his family even when it was hard. It’s all there, between you, unspoken but understood.

Rafe leans in, pressing his forehead to yours, his breath warm against your skin. "Thank you," he whispers. "For everything."

You close your eyes, letting the moment settle around you. "I’ll always be here," you whisper back. "We’ve got this."

“I don’t think I would’ve made it this far without you.”

You swallow hard, trying not to let it hit you too deep. But it does. Because for all the mess you’ve been through—his ups and downs, his relapse, his constant fight to be better—it always comes back to you. To this.

“I’ll always have your back,” You remind him quietly. “You know that, right?”

He nods, like there’s absolutely no doubt in his mind. “I know. You’re really good with her," he says after a beat. "With Wheezie. And with Milo."

You smile, leaning back in your seat. "Yeah, well, someone’s gotta look after the kids, right? Might as well be me."

Rafe’s lips twitch into another smile as he leans over, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, "Thank you, baby.”

“For what?”

“For sticking around,” he says, pulling back slightly to look at you. “Even when I didn’t make it easy.”

 “You make it worth it, Rafe. You always have.”

Because seeing him like this—happy, strong, responsible, and healthy—it’s more than just him trying. It’s him becoming the person you always believed he could be, from day one on that stupid country club. And that? That’s something you’d stick around for any day.

When you and Rafe pull up to Tannyhill, the sun’s already setting. You grab your bag from the backseat, and he takes a deep breath, his hand hovering near yours like he needs to hold onto you just for a second longer. When you step into the house, you’re greeted by the usual stillness that fills the place. It’s huge, but it always feels too quiet.

Wheezie’s sitting at the kitchen island, hunched over her phone, clearly trying to distract herself. Her leg’s bouncing nervously under the stool, and you don’t even have to say anything to know that she’s been dreading this moment.

As soon as she sees the two of you, she freezes, eyes wide, "Hey," she greets, her voice shaky.

Rafe glances at you, and you give him a small nod. You know he’s trying to figure out how to handle this—he’s never really had to play the role of ‘responsible older brother’ before. But he’s doing it. He’s trying. And that’s what matters.

"Wheeze," Rafe starts, as he walks over to her, and you can see the panic rising in her eyes as she sits up straighter like she’s preparing for the worst. "Why didn’t you tell me?"

She bites her lip, glancing between the two of you. "I-I didn’t want to bother you," she mumbles, her voice small. "You’ve been dealing with a lot, and I thought— I don’t know. I thought I could handle it on my own."

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. He’s quiet for a second, and you can feel Wheezie’s anxiety practically buzzing out of her. She’s probably expecting him to yell, to go off on her, but instead, he takes a step forward and pulls her into a hug.

"You ever keep something like that from me again," he mutters into her hair, his tone firm but warm, "and you’re grounded."

Wheezie’s eyes go wide in shock, like she wasn’t expecting that at all. Her arms wrap around him a little awkwardly, but you can tell she’s relieved. She pulls back after a second, staring up at him with those big brown eyes of hers. "You’re not mad?"

Rafe shakes his head, but his expression is serious. "I’m not mad. I’m worried, Wheeze. I’m here, okay? I got you."

"I’m sorry," she whispers.

He sighs again, rubbing a hand over his face before looking at her. "Don’t be sorry. Just don’t do it again."

She nods quickly, and you step closer, offering her a small smile. "You’re not in trouble, Wheezie. I’m gonna help you with the math stuff, okay? I promise."

Wheezie looks over at you, clearly surprised, and then back at Rafe. "You’re… really not mad?"

Rafe rolls his eyes but in that big-brother way that’s full of affection.

"No, Wheeze, I’m not mad. But next time you’re struggling with something, tell me. That’s what I’m here for."

She nods, relief washing over her features. "Okay. I will."

Rafe reaches out and ruffles her hair, something so casual and brotherly it makes your heart swell.

"Good. Now go do whatever you do, and remember—grounded if you pull that shit again."

You slap his arm, “Will stop cursing in front of her?”

He shoots you a half-smirk, looking completely unbothered. "Please baby, she’s sixteen. You think she doesn’t curse?"

Wheezie lets out a small laugh, covering her mouth as if she’s trying to keep it together, but you can tell she’s relieved. 

"Yeah, but maybe not in front of her big brother," you tease, raising an eyebrow at him.

Rafe shrugs, looking like he couldn’t care less. "If she’s smart enough to hide it from me, more power to her."

Wheezie giggles again, and you can’t help but smile. "Yeah, yeah," you sigh, rolling your eyes at him playfully. "You’re a great role model, Rafe Cameron."

He groans, “Please don’t use the full name.” The corners of his mouth tug up in a grin that makes your heart skip. “Alright, no more big brother lectures tonight. We’re good, yeah, Wheeze?”

Wheezie nods, still smiling. “Yeah, we’re good.”

[achilles-rage]

Water Pressure

summary: you go to work early one morning to shower because your hot water isn't working, and eddie catches you using the shower head on yourself.

word count: 1.6k

request: anon- Hi there! Could I request either Eddie Diaz being walked in on masturbating by colleague reader or him walking in on her using the shower on herself at the firehouse because the water pressure and it’s really early so she thinks no one else is there. Or both lmao I don’t mind

a/n: i’m sorry this isn't longer, i’m lowkey in a slump rn💋enjoy<3

warnings: smut, plus size!reader, fem!reader, race inclusive!reader

MDNI- 18+ only!

You walk into the firehouse early in the morning, much earlier than your shift starts, but your hot water has been turned off for a couple days while your landlord fixes some plumbing issues, so here you are. You greet the b-shift as you walk in, their sleepy forms lounging around the upstairs area as they wait for their shifts to be over. You know they won’t bother you while you shower; for them, this time in the morning is merely a waiting game for whether they’ll be sent out on a call or if they’ll be able to spend the rest of their long shift in peace.

You make your way to the showers and hop right in, dropping your bag and clothes on the bench and hanging your towel on the hook on the way. You hum softly as the hot water hits your skin and steam fills the air around you. As you stand in the water, you feel your muscles relax, and after a few minutes, you realize how good the water pressure actually is. You haven’t been able to do this for a couple of days, and you’re so worked up that you can’t help but reach up and grab the handheld shower head and angle it at your swollen clit. You let out a soft exhale as you tilt your head back, teasing yourself as your other hand moves to the shower wall, keeping yourself balanced as you give yourself some much needed relief. 

You’re so caught up in your own little world that you don’t hear Eddie coming into the room, and you also don’t notice that your shower curtain is slightly agape, giving him the perfect angle. He freezes as he sees your naked form, eyes trailing down from your blissed out expression to your soft chest and tummy, and it takes him a moment to notice what exactly you’re doing. He thought he would come in early and get a workout in before work, but now he feels both happy that he chose to do so, and guilty, because he can’t tear his eyes away from your plush body.

He’s always thought you were gorgeous, and he loves how much you put into your job, but you’re just friends. 

He wants nothing more than to get into that shower with you and take over, but he doesn’t know if you feel the same, and he’s very sure you seeing him watching you would not be something you would welcome. 

But still, he can’t tear his eyes away, and he feels his shorts getting tight as he hears your breathy moans, just loud enough to hear over the water hitting the tile floor. 

As you continue to point the water on yourself, you feel eyes on you, and although you’re sure no one is, you open your eyes anyway. It’s only then that you make eye contact with Eddie through the cracked open shower curtain, and you freeze, your mouth agape. Your first instinct is to close the curtain and never speak to him again, but your eyes study his face, and you can see the lust in his eyes. Your eyes trail down his body and you can see the tent forming in his shorts, and you inhale a sharp, surprised breath. You both lock eyes again, neither of you making a move to each other, but also not moving away either.

“Can I come in?” he asks after a moment, a smirk forming on his face as he sees you swallow and nod. He strips himself of his shirt and shorts and drops his bag beside yours on the walk over to your shower, then steps in and closes the curtain the whole way, as if that would stop anyone that may walk in from knowing what’s about to happen. 

He meets your lips in a desperate kiss, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks as he pushes you back against the wall. Your hand that’s not holding the shower head moves to his chest, slowly making its way up and so your arm wraps around his shoulder as the other reaches up to haphazardly put the shower head back in place. Once you do, your other arm wraps around him as well, and he moves his hands down to your hips, pulling you into him as he kisses you fervently. You part your lips and tilt your head to deepen the kiss, and he groans against your lips as he feels your soft tummy against his hard cock.

He rocks his hips against you slightly, desperate for friction, and you whine softly, reaching down to pump him a few times. You part from the kiss and look down, watching your hand move over his impressive length, and his eyes follow yours. After a moment his hands move to your jaw and he tilts your head back, allowing him to nip and suck on your neck with quiet moans escaping his mouth. He makes his way down to your breasts, feeling the water hitting his back as he squeezes your breasts between his hands and marks your chest with dark spots. He’s about to kneel down in front of you, but you shake your head quickly, keeping him standing in front of you. 

“Need you now.” you whisper in a pleading voice. You both have been waiting for this for so long; spending hours and hours together without much more than a friendly touch, so neither of you feel like you can wait any longer to give in. 

He smirks, mumbling a “yes ma’am” as he grabs the back of one of your thighs, lifting your leg and hooking it around his waist. He keeps his grip on your thigh as he places his other hand on the wall beside your head, and lets out a low groan as he feels your hand wrap around his cock again, lining it up with your dripping core. 

He wastes no time, and pushes into you quickly, barely giving you enough time to adjust before he starts snapping his hips against yours. Soft moans fall out of both of your lips as he moves, and your hands move up to grip his shoulders. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this. Having you spread open for me.” he rasps in your ear, and you whimper softly in return. The words go right to your core as you imagine it; all those times you’ve caught him looking at you, he was actually looking at you, and not just because you were friends.

You tilt your head back as he moves even quicker, meeting your hips in rough thrusts as he rests his head in the crook of your neck. You bite your lip to stifle your moans, still having half of a mind to keep quiet, but it’s difficult. You’ve wanted this for so long, and you can hardly hold back with how his cock is sliding into you so perfectly.

“God, you feel so good, mi amor. So good for me.” he whispers in your ear, then reaches down to rub at your clit with his fingers. You let out a high pitched mewl as his fingers circle your clit, and you arch your back into him, feeling your high quickly approaching.

“Oh my god.” you get out through quiet moans, hands moving down his shoulders to his back and pulling him impossibly closer to you. You’re desperate for more of him, if even possible, and he chuckles into your neck, kissing your skin haphazardly. He’s so close, and he’s eager to get you right there with him before he comes too soon. 

“You gonna cum for me, huh?” he grunts, leaning back to look into your eyes. You nod, looking up at him through hooded eyes as your body moves in time with his thrusts. If you weren’t so focused on the pleasure, you’d feel the dull pain of your back pressing up against the hard tiles behind you, but right now, you couldn’t force yourself to care even if you tried. 

“Let go for me, baby. Let me hear you.” he whispers, and after a few more thrusts, you’re coming with a loud moan. He presses his lips to yours quickly, trying to muffle your noises as your body goes taut, and after a second, he’s falling right over the edge after you. He keeps his cock deep inside of you as he empties himself into your warm cunt, his hand moving down your neck and to your hip, squeezing it in an attempt to keep himself grounded.

He buries his face into the crook of your neck as you both catch your breath, and after a moment he pulls out, cupping your face in his hands and kissing you gently. 

“We should probably get ready. Our shift starts soon.” he tells you, although no part of him wants to leave you right now. You nod, swallowing as you feel your heart rate returning to normal, and give him a soft smile.

“Maybe after our shift I’ll take you out?” he asks, almost nervously. He’s worried that you’ll say this was just a one time thing, that you don’t want him like that, but his worries vanish when he sees your smile widen.

“I’ll hold you to that, Diaz.” you tease him softly, leaning in to give him one more peck before he finally pulls away. He begrudgingly moves to the shower beside yours, washing the sweat off of him before your shift starts while you do the same. After a few minutes, you can hear people outside the room talking to each other and getting ready for the day ahead, and both of you smile to yourselves, knowing that you would’ve most certainly been caught if either of you lasted any longer.

notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

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[leahrintarou]

Hello can I get for Dabi x Fem!Reader when Reader wakes up in bed without him and she hears him in the kitchen making coffee or tea and she leans against the doorway and stares at him shirtless, because she loves his body so much especially his back and chest and abs, and she hugs him from behind. And touches his abs and stuff and he's obviously his smug self. And Reader just wants cuddles and he turns to hug her back. And it's so fluffy and sweet

✩₊˚.⋆ CHAMOMILE TEA - dabi/touya todoroki

CW: sweet sweet fluff, fem reader, fluff, he's his sarcastic and authentic self, fluff, and some more tooth-rotting fluff.

Word Count: 989

Author's Note: this was such a cute idea :') i enjoyed writing it and i hope you all enjoy reading it! tysm and make sure to send in a request if you have any in mind! also, i head cannon that bro drinks tea bc his vocal chords are fucked lol.

the cool temperature of the air surrounding her suddenly began to feel more dramatic as seconds passed by. with her eyes still closed, y/n felt around the bed, hoping to meet the familiar warmth of her boyfriend. unfortunately for her, that contact never came, leaving her cold—and now annoyed and worried.

her eyes shot open as she scanned the dim room. shadows and streaks of sunlight peeked through the blinds, casting just enough light to check the area, but still, she didn't see him. with a huff, she stood from the bed, the fabric of dabi's loose t-shirt hanging off her frame. she took slow, careful steps out of the room, the scent of chamomile tea drifting into her senses.

her nerves eased, but not because of the tea’s calming properties. it was the familiarity—the scent that dabi would brew every once in a while. eventually, she'd grown so accustomed to it that she'd ask for her own cup. now, dabi made two cups out of habit, whether or not y/n was around. he pretended to be annoyed, but deep down, y/n knew he didn’t really mind when she teased him about it.

y/n's shoulders relaxed as her gaze finally found the defined muscles of her boyfriend’s back. his ivory skin stood in contrast to the purplish hued scars that told the tale of flames clashing against the limits of his body.

those same molten-patterned scars traced along his abdomen, his neck, and down his arms. y/n couldn’t see all of them from where she stood, but each one was etched into her memory. she took quiet, careful steps forward, arms lifting to wrap around his middle. the instant her palms pressed against his toned abdomen, warmth flooded back into her body. dabi let out a low sigh as her fingers lightly traced over his skin.

"you're finally up," he muttered, voice still rough from sleep but soothed by the tea he took slow sips from.

"you left me to freeze to death," she muttered, resting her head against his back, her tone half-pouting.

dabi chuckled, the sound low and amused, as he took another sip. "oh, come on, drama queen," he said, smirking to himself. "you act like i was gone for hours and left you in the arctic."

y/n’s arms tightened around him, her fingertips grazing the ridges of his scars, tracing them with a familiarity that made his chest tighten just a bit. "you know i hate waking up without you there," she mumbled into his skin, her breath warm against him.

he placed the cup on the counter, his free hand casually covering hers, his thumb tracing lazy circles over her skin. "yeah, well, i couldn’t sleep," he said, his voice dripping with faux indifference. "figured i’d make some tea since it’s apparently the only thing that keeps me from going nuts around here."

she hummed softly, eyes closing as she pressed closer to him, her body fitting against his. "next time, wake me up," she said quietly, though her words carried a more playful challenge.

dabi turned just enough to glance over his shoulder at her, his lips curling into that cocky, knowing smirk. "so you can whine about being woken up too early? yeah, sure, sounds like fun."

y/n rolled her eyes but smiled, her lips brushing his back. "actually, I just prefer you not to sneak off and leave me freezing," she shot back, her voice filled with exaggerated irritation. "you’re the space heater around here, remember?"

dabi chuckled, amused by her response. "ah, so that’s what this is about? you just want to use me for my body, huh?"

"obviously," she retorted, her tone teasing. "you think i keep you around for your oh-so charming personality?"

he let out a low laugh, slipping out of her hold with that same smug grace. turning to face her, he leaned down, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to her forehead as a palm met with her cheek. "tell you what," he said, his tone dripping with mock charm. "i’ll make it up to you with some tea—exactly how you like it. aren’t i just the best?"

y/n raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "tea’s great and all, but it doesn’t keep me warm for long."

dabi’s smirk deepened, eyes glinting with that familiar mischievous spark. "oh, so you need me to keep you warm forever, huh? alright, sweetheart. deal."

y/n smirked, tilting her head slightly as she crossed her arms. "well, forever might be a stretch. you’ve got your moments, but I’m not trying to roast like a marshmallow every night."

dabi raised an eyebrow, his grin widening as he leaned in closer, voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "careful what you wish for. you might start liking the heat."

y/n snorted, rolling her eyes but unable to hide her smile. "right, because nothing says romance like third-degree burns."

dabi smirked, not missing a beat. "hey, at least you'll always have a reminder of me. permanent, just like i promised."

y/n laughed, shaking her head. "oh, how sweet. a love story for the ages—scars and all."

he shrugged, his grin widening as he pulled her closer. "you love it. keeps things interesting, doesn’t it?" she raised an eyebrow at those words, giving him a playful nudge. "sure, if by ‘interesting’ you mean constantly babysitting a walking fire hazard."

dabi huffed, his hand coming up to gently cup her face, his tone turning softer. "lucky for you, I’m your fire hazard. guess that makes us even—since you’re the only one who can put up with me."

y/n’s playful smirk softened, her arms slipping around his waist again as she rested her head against his chest. "yeah, well, you’re stuck with me. flames and all."

"wouldn't have it any other way," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, the warmth between them more than enough now.

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[archangeldyke-all]

what about sev and reader meeting little fucker'd girlfriend's parents?

sevika it's like "im killing your daughter if she hurts my baby" and then one of the parents it's like "no, im killing your daughter if she hurts my daughter" and then sevika just shrugs like "yeah that's fair"

this is just so funny i'm such a sucker for family fics heheh

men and minors dni

your daughter's been dating her girlfriend for two years now, and in the fall they'll be going off to college together, so you and sevika figured it was time to bite the bullet and meet her parents.

it's not that you don't want to. it's just that... your family is definitely a lot for those not as used to it as smooches is (smooches is the nickname the twins came up with for little fucker's girlfriend-- because of all the kisses the two are always sharing) and smooches comes from a quiet family.

she's an only child, both of her parents are super smart lawyer types-- and you and sevika both worry that they'll take one look at your home (currently in disrepair because the twins are going through a 'science experiment' phase) and your family (whose love language is teasing and squabbling) and they'll decide that their daughter actually shouldn't be spending so much time with her girlfriend and family. which would break both of your hearts, because as much as you tease little fucker and smooches--your daughter's girlfriend is basically your family now.

she's over for dinner more nights than not, she spends the night on weekends, and the twins adore her.

so, you're all trying to be on your best behavior at dinner tonight. (trying being the key word, because there are just some familial duties that even the best behavior cannot stop.)

stinkerbutt goes around the table at the restaurant and pulls out each chair for the adults, helping push in smooches' dads in with some help from her twin, kissing you and sevika's cheeks sweetly when she pushes you two up to the table.

shithead very politely stacks all your dishes and glasses together between bread, appetizers, and after dinner-- ensuring the table is easy to clear for the waitresses and there's more room for everyone to spread out.

you and sevika exchange pleasentries with mr. and mr. smooches, asking them about work and drama on the pta at the girls' high school-- and you even get some friendly banter going when it's revealed that sevika and one of smooches' dads' share favorite television shows. they spend about fifteen minutes gushing to each other about the writing while you and smooches' remaining dad roll your eyes fondly-- both happy they're not talking to you about the nerdy shit for a change.

there's not one stain on any of your sort-of matching outfits-- little fucker wanted to look like a unit so she insisted you all wear blue-- and you're under the impression that you've made it through the night with out incident.

you're wrong.

but, surprisingly, it isn't your family that starts it tonight.

"i have to say something." mr. smooches mumbles at the end of the night as you're waiting for dessert to be brought to the table.

"babe--" his husband responds, in that same placating tone you recognize from how often you use it on sevika. "it's been such a nice night."

"pops please don't." smooches groans from her seat beside him.

still, mr. smooches clears his throat and takes a sip of his wine before speaking.

"you all are a lovely family," he begins while his daughter groans and hides her face behind her hands, "and i am so grateful my daughter's found someone who loves her so much-- and someone whose family loves her too..." you all wait in tense silence for him to continue.

"but?" little fucker asks.

"but it is my duty as a father to tell all of you that if my daughter is ever hurt-- physically or emotionally-- i do know lawyers who can make murder charges disappear." he says with a shrug.

you raise an eyebrow at his husband, impressed, and he groans and buries his own face in his hands-- just like his daughter.

beside you, sevika bursts into laughter and smacks his back. "i didn't think you had it in you!" she cackles.

"what do you mean?" smooches asks from between her dads, her mortification lessening at sevika's reaction.

"i've been watchin' your old man try to work up the courage to threaten us all night."

"it wasn't a threat! it was just a fun fact about myself i wanted to share." smooches dad says with a growing smile. sevika cackles.

"well, here's a fun fact about our family-- together i think we've got, what was it babe? twenty three?"

"twenty four." you fill in for sevika. sevika grins and kisses your cheek.

"twenty four cousins in prison, so, y'know. we probably wouldn't be able to get rid of the charges, but we'd definitely know how to handle the bodies." she says with a shrug.

the table bursts into laughter, and mr. smooches reaches across the table to give sevika a solid handshake.

you and his husband sit back and watch with fond amusement as your daughters attempt to sneak away from the table without anybody noticing.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom

[pdriesta]

PROLOGUE

“even when it’s bad, i love you”

pairing — trentxblack!girl

genre — angst, angst and more angst

word count — 1.8k (for prologue)

summary — y/n and trent's once strong relationship is strained by his growing distance and her unexpected pregnancy. as they clash over their future, y/n faces the painful choice of leaving behind the love and they love they worked so hard creating. will they overcome their struggles and rebuild their love, or will their fractured bond break beyond repair?

an — i’ve been so excited for this series! it was on my old blog but i never got to start it out. i’m so happy to finally post it! let me know if anyone is interested in a taglist <3

masterlist

he morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the bedroom. y/n lay beside trent, listening to the sound of his breathing, steady and familiar. she shifted slightly, her heart heavy with the weight of everything unsaid between them. even in sleep, there was a tension in his body, a distance that had grown wider with each passing day.

trent stirred, his eyes fluttering open. he turned his head to look at her, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “morning,” he murmured, his voice still thick with sleep.

y/n forced a smile in return, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “morning,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong—something more than just the usual stress of their lives.

trent reached out, brushing a strand of hair that fell out of her stain scarf from her face. “you okay?” he asked, concern flickering in his eyes. “you’ve been quiet lately.”

she hesitated, wanting to tell him everything that was on her mind—the worry, the fear, the uncertainty that had taken root in her heart. but the words caught in her throat, and instead, she just nodded. “i’m fine,” she lied, the weight of her own doubts pressing down on her.

trent studied her for a moment longer, his brow furrowing slightly. he could see through her facade, but he didn’t push. “you sure?” he asked again, his hand lingering on her cheek.

she leaned into his touch, closing her eyes for a moment, savoring the warmth and familiarity of him. “yeah,” she said softly, opening her eyes to meet his gaze. “i’m just tired.”

trent sighed, his own exhaustion seeping into his voice. “you’ve been sick a lot lately,” he said, his thumb tracing circles on her cheek. “maybe you should see a doctor, get checked out.”

y/n swallowed, the knot in her stomach tightening. she hadn’t told him about the nausea, the way she had been waking up every morning with a churning stomach and a feeling of dread. “i’ll be okay,” she said, forcing a smile. “i just need some rest.”

trent didn’t seem convinced, but he nodded, not wanting to press her further. “if you’re sure,” he said, his voice laced with concern. he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “i’m heading to training in a bit. you want me to pick you up from work on the way back?”

y/n shook her head, the weight of her secret growing heavier with each passing second. “no, i’m good,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady. “i called in sick today. i just... i don’t feel well.”

trent’s eyes darkened with worry. “you’ve been sick a lot lately,” he repeated, his hand slipping from her cheek to her hand, squeezing gently. “if you’re still feeling bad tomorrow, promise me you’ll go to the doctor.”

she nodded, not trusting herself to speak. trent searched her face for a moment longer, then leaned in to kiss her softly. “take care of yourself, yeah?” he whispered against her lips before pulling away.

trent didn't say much more of how she was feeling because he was already deep in his own head. his mind was a maze of doubts, insecurities, and the weight of expectations that had been pressing down on him for weeks. as he pulled on his training gear, his thoughts were a tangled mess of worries about his performance, his place in the team, and the gnawing feeling that he wasn’t enough—not for his teammates, not for the fans, and maybe, just maybe, not even for her.

y/n watched him get out of bed and start getting ready, her heart aching with a mix of love and fear. she could see the lines of stress etched into his face, the weariness in his movements. he had been carrying so much on his shoulders, and she knew how much he doubted himself, how much he questioned his worth, even though he would never admit it.

but he couldn’t say any of that, not when he knew how much y/n was already dealing with. so he kept quiet, hoping that his silence would protect her from the storm raging inside him. he didn’t ask why she’d been so quiet lately, or why she’d been sick so often. instead, he just leaned down to kiss her forehead, his lips lingering there a moment longer than usual, as if trying to pour all the words he couldn’t say into that one gesture. he paused, to look at her, his eyes softening. “i love you,” she whispered, the words spilling out before she could stop them.

trent’s expression softened, and he leaned down to press another kiss to her forehead. “i love you too,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “more than anything.”

“take care of yourself, yeah?” he murmured, his voice soft but tinged with an edge of desperation. he didn’t look back at her as he left the room, the door closing with a soft click that echoed in the stillness.

but as he pulled away, y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that love might not be enough to bridge the growing distance between them. she watched him leave, the door closing with a soft click that echoed in the silence of the room.

the quiet settled over her like a blanket, suffocating in its intensity. y/n lay back against the pillows, staring up at the ceiling, her mind racing with a thousand different thoughts. the nausea that had plagued her for days returned with a vengeance, and she curled up on her side, clutching her stomach as if that could somehow ward off the dread that had taken root inside her

as soon as he was gone, y/n curled up tighter on the bed, the emptiness beside her feeling more pronounced than ever. she had seen the way his eyes had darkened with worry, had felt the tension in his body when he kissed her. but she couldn’t bring herself to voice her fears, not when he was already carrying so much. instead, she buried her face in the pillow, her heart heavy with the weight of everything unsaid.

after a while, she forced herself to get up, her body moving on autopilot as she reached for her phone. her hands trembled as she dialed the familiar number, and when her mom’s voice came through the line, warm and comforting, y/n felt the floodgates open.

“mum,” she said, her voice strained and broken. “i don’t feel right. i’ve been sick every morning for a while now, and... and trent’s been so distant. i don’t know what to do.”

her mom’s voice was like a balm, soothing the raw edges of her anxiety. “oh, sweetheart, that sounds awful. have you been under a lot of stress lately? sometimes that can make you feel sick.”

“i guess,” y/n replied, though the words felt hollow. “but it’s more than that. something just feels... off. i can’t explain it, but i know something’s wrong.”

there was a pause on the other end of the line, and y/n could almost hear the gears turning in her mum’s mind. “y/n, when was the last time you had your period?”

the question hit her like a freight train. she froze, her mind racing as she tried to remember. she hadn’t even thought about it, too wrapped up in everything else—the tension with trent, the constant nausea, the overwhelming sense of something being wrong. but now that her mom mentioned it, she realized it had been a while—too long. panic began to set in, her heart pounding in her chest.

“i... i don’t know,” she whispered, her hand unconsciously resting on her stomach. “mum, do you think...?”

“it’s possible,” her mom said gently. “why don’t you go get a test, just to be sure?”

“no,” y/n said quickly, the word spilling out in a rush. “i mean, i’m not ready for that. trent and i... we’re not ready for kids. we talked about it, but it was always something in the future, not now.”

her mom’s voice was soft, soothing. “i understand, honey. but it’s better to know. and if it’s positive, we’ll figure it out together. you won’t be alone in this.”

y/n’s mind raced, a whirlwind of thoughts and fears that threatened to consume her. “but what if i’m not ready?” she whispered, her voice trembling with the weight of her doubts. “what if i can’t do this? i’m too young, mom. i don’t know how to be a mom. what if i’m not good enough?”

“oh, sweetheart,” her mom’s voice was thick with emotion. “no one ever feels ready. but you are strong, and you are capable. if you’re pregnant, then this baby is already so loved, just by being a part of you. and you have trent, and you have me and your dad. you’re not alone in this, y/n. you can do this, one step at a time.”

y/n’s tears flowed freely now, her chest tight with a mix of fear and love. she clung to her mom’s words, letting them anchor her in the storm that raged inside her. “i’m scared,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“it’s okay to be scared,” her mom reassured her. “but you’re not alone, y/n. you have so many people who love you and will support you, no matter what happens.”

after a lot of convincing and a few more reassurances, y/n found herself at the pharmacy, staring at the rows of pregnancy tests. it felt surreal, like she was watching someone else’s life unfold. her hands shook slightly as she picked up a box, paid for it, and headed back home, her mind numb with fear and uncertainty.

the next hour was a blur. y/n sat on the edge of the bathtub, staring at the test in her hand, waiting for the timer to go off. the minutes dragged on, each second feeling like an eternity. her mind raced with thoughts of what this could mean—how it would change everything, how it might push trent even further away.

when the timer finally beeped, y/n took a deep breath and looked down at the result. two lines. pregnant.

her world tilted on its axis, and she felt like she was drowning. tears welled up in her eyes, and before she knew it, she was crying—deep, heaving sobs that shook her entire body. it wasn’t that she didn’t want children. she did, but not like this, not now. she felt too young, too unprepared for the responsibility that was suddenly thrust upon her.

y/n tried to calm herself, taking deep breaths and reminding herself that trent would be there for her. he loved her, and they had built a life together. but as she sat there, alone in their bathroom, she couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was about to change, and not for the better. she clutched the test to her chest, her tears soaking into the fabric of her shirt . the only through running through her mind was one question, “what am i going to do?”

© PDRIESTA 2024

[cosmicjoke]

Levi is What Historia Pretended to Be

One of the things that the fairly prevalent claims I see about Levi "forcing" Historia to become Queen, or "forcing" her to accept eating Zeke, or just the general complaints I see about how Levi "treated" Historia, gets me to thinking is how Levi is everything Historia only pretended to be.

When we first meet Historia, she's going by the name Krista, and she presents a personality and image which, on its surface, appears to be exceptionally selfless and compassionate. She's constantly asking after others, going out of her way to inquire as to their well-being, standing up for them and seemingly sacrificing her own comfort and self-interest to their benefit. But, in the same way we eventually learn that Krista isn't her real name, we also come to find that Historia's personality is just as much a facade as her false name. We get our first exposure of the selfish and self-serving girl underneath during the scene between her and Ymir, during their training exercise through the mountains in winter, when Ymir calls Historia out for her secretly selfish behavior. Historia tells Ymir to go ahead by herself to base camp, while she carries Daz by herself, and Ymir points out that if Historia really wanted to save Daz, she would have asked Ymir for help, since Ymir was stronger, and thus had a greater chance of saving Daz than herself. But she doesn't ask for help, because she wants Ymir to tell people about about her selfless, final act, sacrificing her life to save another's. Here we see exposed for the first time Historia's willingness to sacrifice others for her own, selfish gain. She pretends to want to save Daz's life, but in reality, she sees him as an acceptable sacrifice for her own glorification.

Of course, this is all wrapped up in Historia's childhood trauma and the feelings of rejection she faced from her mother, tied in with what Frieda told her about how to ingratiate herself to others by being a "good person". But the fact remains, Historia is exceedingly selfish, and we get our first glimpse of that selfishness here. Something that she herself at last admits to in the scene with Eren, in the underground cavern beneath the Reiss family compound. She calls herself "the worst girl in the world" as she finally casts off all pretense in trying to win her family's approval and love, rejecting her father's offer and embracing her own, selfish desires. She tells Eren that she doesn't care if all of humanity perishes, something that we come to realize is foreshadowing, when Historia's selfishness culminates in her standing by and doing nothing to stop Eren's genocidal plans, simply because it allows her to continue living.

I think Historia and Levi are a perfect study in contrast precisely because there are some similarities between the two of them in terms of their childhood's and trauma.

Both experienced abandonment and rejection as children. Historia by her mother, Levi by Kenny. Both, I think, suffer from fear of abandonment and this pervasive sense within them that they were abandoned due to some lacking quality in themselves. We see this with Levi in him questioning Kenny about why he left him, and later, in his comment to Armin about how if he sleep's any longer than he already has, they'll all forget he even exists. We see how both Levi and Historia's sense of self-worth is wrapped up in this idea of being useful to others. How their lives will only be of worth if they're able to somehow be of benefit to others.

But while Historia's abandonment issues manifested in her pretending to be a good and selfless person who, in truth, only "helped" others so long as it benefited her somehow, and who's selfless acts served as cover for her self-serving desire to be accepted and loved, Levi's selflessness was never an act, and his desire to help others was never rooted in some secret scheme to get others to like or accept him. While Levi might feel he's of no worth to others unless he's useful to them in some way, that was never the actual motivation behind his selfless actions, never the motivating drive. I think Levi's low sense of self-worth, in fact, only serves to highlight the genuine quality of his selflessness, because he never uses his actions to win himself praise, even as, surely, he feels bereft of love or acceptance, the same as Historia.

I think this is most clearly demonstrated by the fact that Levi, in sharp contrast to Historia, never engaged in behavior that was designed to ingratiate him to others, and in fact, is markedly the opposite of that, often behaving in ways that serve only to win him people's ire and, at times, even repulses people from him. People see Levi as rude and cold-hearted and without feeling. They see him as uncharismatic and crude, and often display lowly opinions of him, or even disappointment upon meeting him. Zeke even comments on this, accusing Levi of being "unpopular" because of his blunt assertions about what sort of person Zeke is, accusing him of being a "know-it-all". We see other soldiers accuse Levi of being heartless, accuse him of getting other scouts killed, accuse him of being insane and a bad person, and Levi never fights these accusations, never defends himself. He accepts all of this criticism without complaint or personal offense, and without ever trying to convince anyone otherwise about his character. He's never tries to convince anyone he's a good person.

Where Historia had pretty much made an art of ingratiating herself to others, of wearing a mask of humility and generosity and kindness, fooling people into believing her to be all of those things, Levi has never been able to do the same, and further, he never tried, because, unlike Historia, whether he was well-liked or not was never something that mattered to him. It was never the underlying motivation of his selflessness or compassion. It doesn't matter to him what people think of him. What actually matters to him is helping them.

The fundamental difference between the two, then, is that Historia's selflessness was always an act, always a ruse to win her approval and acceptance, whereas Levi's selflessness always just was what it appeared to be. Actual selflessness, acts committed for no reason beyond the benefit they would have for others.

And we see that fundamental difference between the two demonstrated, also, by the fact that Historia is willing to let harm befall others, particularly, other people who never did her any harm or posed her any threat, so long as it benefits her in some way, (i.e. Daz, and the entire human population on earth) while Levi has never been willing to let harm befall anyone for any sort of self-gain, again, particularly, anyone who wasn't already threatening his life or the lives of others, and, in fact, often sacrifices his own well-being for the benefit of others.

It's just amusing to me how often people will criticize Levi for being "mean" to Historia, or how many people make the false claim that Levi forced Historia into any sort of position or burden that she hadn't already committed herself to previously, because Levi is everything Historia only ever pretended to be. He's selfless to an extreme fault, not only not seeking recognition or acknowledgment for his selfless acts, but outright rejecting it when he does receive it (i.e. Erwin trying to thank him for helping capture the Female Titan, Hitch trying to accuse Levi of thinking he's a hero, his disdain for his title as "Humanity's Strongest"). His compassion is such that he'll sacrifice his own comfort and peace of mind if it means easing the burden placed on the shoulders of others (letting Erwin die, giving Petra's patch to Dieter, torturing Sannes, killing for the sake of saving others lives...), his belief in the worth of other people's lives so powerful, that he actively seeks ways to ensure those lives are proven to have value by imbuing their loss with meaning, and is absolutely unable to abide the thought of anyone dying a meaningless death, his care for his comrades so immense, that he would destroy his own body to protect theirs. He has no dreams of his own, but instead dedicates himself fully to the dreams of others, fighting with all his strength toward that end, not to win acceptance or praise, but simply for the fact that he feels it's his obligation to help, a sense of obligation born out of a deep, inborn compassion.

Historia was always purely motivated by people liking her and seeing her as "good", her altruistic behavior and actions designed to garner her that image and acceptance, never out of any, genuine desire to help, and we see that core truth about her eventually manifest in her willingness to let so many innocent people die for her own life.

Levi, by contrast, was always okay with people hating him, with people thinking he's a lunatic or a monster, as long as it meant those same people would be okay, would be protected from having to experience the same horrors he had.

[spirits-n-giggles]

Must.... conclude.... Beetlejuice story.... after.... 2nd.... movie....

Go on this journey with me

(slightly edited for a better flow.)

Picture it:

A few years goes by....

Astrid and Lydia had become inceperable after their Halloween from hell and live together, but she eventually talks about wanting to experience dorm life for her first year of college. Lydia is happy for her daughter but is now afraid of being alone, not entirely sure what might happen with so many dreams that always plagued her sleep since the resurgence of ☆he who shall not be named☆ - and I want them to use that line as much as they used "keepin' it real."

The house on the hill will become internationally known as the notorious "Lydia Deets' Haunted Arthouse", she didn't have a show anymore, but that didn't stop her reputation from growing exponentially after the Halloween fiasco. People wanna buy this property for millions of dollars, but Lydia will be too afraid of whatever might happen to anyone, should they ever meet the demon from her nightmares, so she keeps the house by using some of Delia's fame funds to keep the home in their name - something Delia would HATE lol - but Lydia doesn't wanna actually be in the house.

Betelgeuse is stuck in the underworld, trying to hide from a revived Delores that continues to terrorize the afterlife, only now she is destroying the place. If the Sandworm can't kill Betelgeuse, how tf is it gonna kill Delores? Wolf Jackson is of course on the case, but things are getting out of hand. This makes Betlegeuse a prime target for anyone with a soul that might wanna rat him out. And there are PLENTY who wanna rat him out. Trying to find a way out or a way to kill the broad, he has to get creative as he stays in hiding. And where is the perfect place to hide? In a certain model town in a certain model home.

Rory will be undead and use his winning personality to act like he worships the ground Delores walks on so she doesn't suck out his soul. She will say she wants Betelgeuse and wants to kill Lydia. He is cool with that and says he will help her achive that goal. He will then become her lacky and tell her how pretty and perfect she is to keep the target off his back. He will be terrified of her but this will gradually make her love Rory and this can cause some potential fun for future scenes.

Lydia has nightmares that always involve Betlegeuse, even some can involve them going on wacky cartoon adventures from the show, but they'll be creepy and dark and stop-motion because Burton. She tries therapy, but it will end up being a bust. It's hard finding the right therapist with someone as much truama as her. OH MY GOD HAVE MICHAEL KEATON PLAY THIS CHARACTER!!!!! (Nice little nod to movie 2) It will freak her tf out thinking she's seeing Betlegeuse everywhere!

This will cause her to become a shut-in after getting rich off the royalties of selling her personal story - a melodrama of love and the loss of two parents after a lifetime of hauntings from their psychic daughter. She sells this story to various people who want to write it into something. She will end up reading raving reviews about a live theater production of her story called "Ghost House" or "Scared Sheetless" after a graphic novel that was released or some shit. Supernatural levels of meta. Might as well! :D

After a particular dream that ruffles Lydia awake in her own apartment, (the dream at the end of movie 2 maybe?) something strange will happen to the house on the hill, causing Lydia to go back and figure it out. Astrid will hear of this and not want her mom to be there alone and goes with her to help solve the mystery. Lydia thinks she knows what (or who) it is and doesn't want Astrid to come along, but she does anyway.

Hiding there in the model, Betelgeuse will see that she and her daughter have returned, thinking she's finally come to her senses and come back to him lol. Betelgeuse gets desperate for Lydia's attention in the best way he knows how - dreams. They've got a psychic connection, and he's done it plenty of times, but now it's for business as well as pleasure.

It would be some kind of earthquake that shakes the hill. Being careful and walking around whatever damage was mysteriously done, some locals say its another haunting and they want to tear the large house down and make something new. Aatrid can hear these comments and relay them to her mom. This will start making Lydia curious about the history of the hill this house was built on, especially since it's so close to the graveyard (the same place Betlegeuse was buried in the model in movie 1)

So she goes on a hunt in the small town, expands it a little, maybe even find the Mainlands old shop? This can parallel with expanding the afterlife while Betlegeuse is trying to find allies. Betelgeuse tries to round up anyone he knows that he can trust - literally anyone from the past - gotta bring Catherine O'Hara and Gena Davis back, right? Stop motion her in as a ripple in dimensional shifts or something and just use her voice. Richard would help as a thanks for helping his kid in the past, and I KNOW we can get Bob back if we tried.

Lydia can end up learning about some of Betlegeuse's history - finds a picture of an eerily familiar couple - but all this place knows is that they were just two of the MANY that were tossed in mass graves on this land centuries back but they don't know details other than they came from Italy. She will make it a mission to go to their original resting place to try to get more info. She's rich. She can do that. (Their love story was in Italy, right?)

Getting to Italy, Lydia learns the urban legend of a murder suicide of some nutorious bad couple who was known for terrorizing the nights in their hellrsising escepades, but after they were dead and buried, the two lovers corpses, along with many other discarded corpses of dead evil people, were moved out of their original land and brought to a new land to be buried there - getting rid of unwanted individuals so they could bring in the industrial revolution. There will be several names, but two will stand out along with a picture -- Delores and another name that's crossed out. Make it Lawrence, lol. Isn't that Betlegeuse's name in the cartoon?

"Betlegeuse?" Lydia whispers.

“Mom!”

“S-sorry."

Astrid tags along with her mother, happy to travel and hunt creepy shit again. Her dad would be proud. This time she won't meet a boy but maybe a girl who was also doing her own research for school. Jeremy was technically her first experience with a boy, and it's possible to stray away from reminders of bad experiences and kids experiment at this age anyway. It will be a cute goth girl who is a fan of Lydia's old show and is one of the first girls Astrid's age to ever actually be nice to her. A nice connection. This could also be a ploy to pull Lydia back into BJs world again, too - yay twists! She can maybe be an illegal ghost girl looking for help from Lydia because she thinks the paranormal human can help everyone in the afterlife.

Underworld is in chaos, and here is a rift between worlds after so many souls had been taken from the afterlife. There's no more order, reality is breaking, and the only way to get everything back in order is to destroy the soul sucker and release the souls she has absorbed. The more she absorbs, the more power she gets.

They get home, and another shift happens between worlds, and with so much death in the afterlife, it's causing serious problems in the real world and Astrid has an idea to maybe call someone for help. Lydia shuts it down, but more rifts and earthquakes happen. She will have another dream of him trying to get her to call his name. And maybe she can awaken in a living nightmare caused by the rift between worlds, and they are both almost killed (by a sandworm, why tf not!!!) before calling Betlegeuse for help.

Get real 'out there' and put those practical affects to good use and let the shenegins begin! As much as I love watching Betelgeuse try to marry Lydia, there is no attempt at marriage this time. There's too much to do. "I just saved your life, now you can help me save mine and finally kill that soul sucking witch for good.”

“No games. No tricks.” Lydia warns.

“I'm not the trickster in this relationship babe,” he wickedly grins, “but we can get back to that after we save our asses. You're coming with me.” Have him turn into a tour guide as he shows off different aspects of the afterlife thays falling apart before the three of them eventually have to run from people who have allied themselves with Delores to find Betelgeuse.

Imagine the reunion of seeing Rory with Delores. Imagine crazy shit that can magically appear to help end the story. Hell, have the goth girl Astrid meets to come back and redeem herself at the end. I dunno. She can appear and admit to being Delores daughter (before meeting Betelgeuse) and thats why she was at the same place Lydia and Astrid went in Italy to find answers- she was too.

This relationship can parallel Lydia and Astrid's positive one- have Delores sacrifice her daughter to start her sacrificial rite for power, and her daughter never forgive her (I swear I am just pulling this out of my ass) have the girl hold vengence for her mom and she can give Lydia the dagger that her mother Delores killed her with that still has the young girl's cursed blood on it. She says to use it to kill Delores, but Betelgeuse is the only one strong enough who can get close enough to do it.

With so much chaos and so many souls taken, anything can happen in the underworld, and chaos ensues. Maybe even break in to see glimpses of the afterlife, perhaps they see a glimpse of hell and see how Jeremy is being tortured (it will be a silly Tim Burton way). They can see part of the great beyond maybe wave at Delia (and the back of Charls’ head) too?

They finally meet Delores and she will say she is over Betelgeuse, happy with her new pet Rory. It's a shock for Lydia to see Rory there but isn't surprised to see him so desperate to fawn after Delores. Satisfied with the new power she’s gained, Delores prefers to keep Betelgeuse alive to torture him.

Lydia will give Betelgeuse the dagger so he can pop her like a bubble and all the souls she's consumed will escape and go back to their soul holders. But why waste energy killing Betelgeuse when Delores can just use him? She is able to levitate him up but Lydia, Astrid, and the goth girl work together to pull him back down. - this is where the goth girl can suddenly enter for the final fight!

Seeing her daughter makes her angry, and seeing her help her foes pisses her off. Delores grows in size to show her strength, and ordering Rory to take care of those little girls. Little goth girl and Astrid go after Rory and Lydia will get a plan -

"Oh... you're not into him anymore, huh? So... you wouldn't care if I did this?" And Lydia pulls that fucker in to kiss him. (This feels very Phantom of the Opera coded.....) Just a peck is enough for Delores to RAGE and she goes full attack mode. She goes after Lydia and Beletgeuse steps in front of her and kills Delores with whatever magical shit her dead vengeful goth daughter supplied, lol. (And I'm talking full jack sparrow stabbing the kraken slow mode scene) Epic as shit!!! Delores daughter will then rest in peace.

Astrid will then ask herself, “Now why the hell can't I connect with humans like I can with ghosts?”

“Family trait, unfortunately.” Lydia says feeling Beletgeuse's breath literally go down her neck with his close proximity. "At least they didn't try to suck you into marrying them."

End it with Lydia being recruited by Wolf Jackson to find those who have been lost in the real world or something. Make it to where she and Betelgeuse have to work together to keep the plane between the living and the dead closed with her as the keeper of the house.

Have the house be the main character in the end!!!!

Betelgeuse will turn to Lydia and say, "So, you're not the marrying type, eh? I'm fine with that-" He'll try to pull her in for another kiss, but she'll push him away.

"Nooo! No-" He lets her shove him to the floor, "I just knew something like that would save your ass. That's what you asked for right? Now we’re even." He quickly jumps back up. "I know jealousy when I see it.”

"You sure do." he inches closer to her, but she crosses her arms looking away, seemingly uninterested.

"Betelgeuse...”

"I can wait, honey. I know you want me." He flexes as he slowly walks away with pride. "No one can resist ‘the juice’ once they've had a taste." He winks.

Astrid groans for her mother, but Lydia just looks to him like she always does.

"Betelgeuse..."

"You will be the one to kiss me again, babes." He holds his arms out in his iconic way. "I got all the time in the world." He thinks this is the end.

"Betelgeuse."

Hmmm.... he doesn't disappear?

But he does give a wicked smile.

Turns out when killing the spirit of the soul sucking witch, the souls did escape, but her power had to be absorbed by someone, and Betelgeuse didn't... really... need.... help with obtaining more power, did he?

Would he be like demi-god state now? Why the hell not? Give me an Astarion evil ending kind of transformation. Give me love and deepspace realness. (google those). Go the whole nine and make him HOT AND SCARY in the end. Michael Keaton is attractive. It's doable! Antihero status! Make it wild! Demigod!!!!

Imagine THAT being interested in you, Lydia. I don't think you'd say no.

End it with his new form levitating and him saying that that iconic voice and green glowing eyes. "It's Showtime."

Throw in a musical number somewhere, a little justice for Bob and you have a lovely story.

There. Done.

I don't think a 3rd will be made, and if there is one, I don't think it would be this ^ stupid! Lol

[recurring-polynya]

Bleach 129. Suspicion [for Assassination]

I love Captain Hitsugaya so much, how is this remotely his problem? Okay, okay, I can buy the argument that he's got temporary jurisdiction over the Fifth, and maybe Hinamori was even being detained at the 10th, since it seems a little weird to have her in the custody of her own subordinates with no commanding officer around (altho I am pretty sure she was at the Fifth). On the other hand, seems like kind of a conflict of interest to have her own childhood friend as a warden (lol, like the Gotei has ever once cared about conflicts of interest and also like Rukia didn't spend three weeks being co-wardened by her childhood friend and her brother)

However, why does the Tenth's Seventh Seat even know about Renji or Kira busting out? It's not like they were in some central jail facility that lets you sign up for jailbreak notifications. Renji's over at the Sixth. He didn't even get charged with any crimes. B just tossed him in jail because he woke up and chose petty bitchery that morning. On the other hand, Kira, whom I assume was in the brig at Three, was released by his captain. Presumably, this is just...allowed? Are there even rules for detaining people in the Gotei, aside from 'captains do what they want'? It does not seem like it!!

Other bloggers might pin this on bad writing, but this is the best writing to me. How does this supernatural fighting manga so deftly capture this extremely specific flavor of workplace dysfunction? Where the management is so bad that you have to try to run a project without authority over any of the people involved, knowing you will inevitably get in trouble over it, but at least you will meet your deliverables. Hitsugaya is like six or seven years old and is the only person doing any work around here, while everyone else is day-drinking or melting into puddles or straight-up canoodling with the enemy. Ukitake feels like an authority figure, but that man has spent 1000 years learning to slither-out of actually being responsible for things while still giving off the air of competency. Vice-captains escaping prison? Seems...fine. How much trouble can they cause? Lot going on right now, you know? Someone will surely take care of it.

I think it's so great that Hitsugaya is considered one of the main characters of Bleach, especially as far as, like, merchandising goes, and he really has very little to do with the plot, he's just a guy who works here. Anyway, there's some vice captains on the loose, better go get 'em.

[5five5five5five5five5five]

Pls headcanons of a flirty dolores [human] and five .

Trying to forget "that season".

Denial stage activated.

Pls and thank you.

Good day/night.

OOOHH YES! but first i want to write a human Dolores of my own then we can get to the flirty stuff. * she is in her mid 30's and works as a librarian who LOVES books and is very smart and pretty and perfect.

she is MADDENINGLY in love with the Noir detective novel series " Five "max" Hargreeves and the Umbrella of Time. a long running series about a Old man who turns into a young man some times and solves crime with his dog Mr. pennycrumb. * she hated that when they turned the books into movies, they hired a actor that looked NOTHING like how she sees him in her head. Five looks like how she sees him in her head. she cant pinpoint why it bugs her so much. its just wrong. thats not him??? * one day well sorting books, she no clips into the backroom subways and gets stuck. idk how. s4 logic aka make shit up. but she thinks "what would Five do?" and copy his mapping and travel style. * and then they meet......Jesus my kinnie ass heart melts even thinking about it lol. * "five?!" "Delores?!.....are you..real this time....." "wait how do you know my name??....and yes i am very much real? are YOU?" "how do you know MY name?? and yes??" then they nervously chuckle and tell each other how they know each other. * they get a bit sad that the others Delores and five were not real and five admits he got the better end of the stick by being a cool book character....she didn't deserve to be just a......mannequin. but Delores reassures him that his life needed her and that's what gave it so much value. "and at least you got to physically hold me~ i just had....really embaressing art of you...." *Delores drawing him then she thinks he's not looking. she wishes he was a bit older but her self shipping ass is used to his age "powers" but knows this Five cant turn back. at least he's not 13 Five lol. *he's tried to explain his age situation a few times.... shes so understanding about it and five, for the first time, feels seen....and got does his face get red. she knows he's a old man. she loves him BECAUSE he's actually an old man. ANYWAY TO THE FLIRTY STUFF. MY BRAIN IS JUST ON FIRE WITH HUMAN DELORES. * they CAN NOT stop looking at each other. five feels so stupid being THIS flustered. its not his wife. he knows this. but god....shes so stunning. younger then his Delores but he doesn't mind. * she's taller then him no matter what. she was taller then him when he was old, young doesn't matter. shes a tall women and he loves that about her. *her always behind his shoulder correcting his math. and him huffing and admitting shes right. *she likes to head to him. he likes listening. hearing her voice with none of his own voice fused in is so refreshing. he would read his head in her lap and just relax for once in his life. *them slow dancing and mumbling soft words of comfort to each other. *she loves booping his nose. at first, it bits him because the handler used to but ends up finding it nice. its a trait she would have. *he loves watching her move. dance. walk. talk. shes in front of him. again, their eyes are glued to each other and its hard hard not to. just knowing their loves are real keeps them going. *that art meme of all the lovestruck chibis surrounding a very flustered person. that's Delores if she walked into the deli. imagine all the fives looking over and melting in surprise. crumbling in their seats because they are filled with "i miss my wife,tails" energy. the five we are following for this post has to fight them back and give protective glares well she admits the attention is nice and oh god! so many fives! *when five finds a way to return, he doesn't fucking hide it and want to introduce her to his family so bad. she is worried about ending up in a different timeline. he understands the risk but at this point, he just wants the love of his life. and Shes so starved for adventure that she agrees wholeheartedly.

sorry if this wasn't all flirty themed stuff, i just really wanted to write Delores.

[littlegaalaxy]

A Sweet Enchantment in the Depths

♡⃕ Relationship} Jade Leech x Fem!reader

♡⃕ Summary} "You meet Jade, he ends up falling in love with you, and ends up feeling super protective over you"

♡⃕ TW.} Yandere; obsession; possessiveness; stalker and super protection

♡⃕ Notes} English is not my first language, there may be mistakes. I’m sorry for anything. Jade is a little ooc.

You had never imagined that your life would take such a huge turn when you were transported to a magical and strange world like Twisted Wonderland. Initially, I was lost, not knowing anyone and trying to understand the dynamics of that strange school called Night Raven College. As a small and naive girl, you often ended up being pushed from one side to another by situations, but you always managed to find a way to get out unharmed.

However, that changed when you met one of the Leech twins.

Your first interaction with Jade Leech was completely unexpected. You had gotten lost in Octavinelle's water gardens, distracted by the vibrant colors and the fish swimming in the clear waters. He appeared out of nowhere, tall and imposing, with a polite smile, but one that hid something strange.

— Did you get lost? — Jade asked, his voice calm but penetrating, as if he could read all your thoughts and fears.

— Ah, y-yes… I think I took the wrong path… — you replied timidly, your big, innocent eyes trying to find an escape route.

— It's dangerous around here for someone like you, you know? — He took a step forward, bending down to get closer to you, his eyes half-closed with a peculiar shine. — Small, fragile and so… vulnerable. —

You swallowed hard, feeling your heart beat faster. There was something about him that drew you in, like a tide pulling you under. Jade always maintained that polite smile, but his eyes analyzed your every move, like a predator studying its prey.

From that date on, Jade made a point of "taking care" of you. He always appeared when you needed help most, whether it was to guide you through the corridors or to get you out of embarrassing situations. However, as time passed, you began to notice that Jade was always around, even when she didn't call you. His words were always kind, but his intentions seemed increasingly difficult to decipher.

— You are such a sweet and carefree girl… — he whispered one day, while they were alone in the library. — I wonder how someone so innocent survives in this world… —

His cold fingers slid down your arm, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.

— Don't worry, [Name]. I'll make sure nothing bad happens to you. —

Despite the calmness in his voice, there was a tone of possessiveness that made you uneasy. He always knew where you were, what you were doing, and he seemed to show up at the most unexpected moments. You even tried to move away, but it was as if Jade always found a way to be close, like a shadow.

One night, as you walked through the dark corridors of the school, you felt that has was being followed. When you turned around, Jade was there, his smile darker than usual.

— I was worried… You've been moving away from me, [Name]. It makes me…uncomfortable. — His voice was now almost a threatening whisper.

— J-Jade… I just… wanted some space… — your voice shook, and you took a step back.

In an instant, Jade was in front of him, holding his arm firmly but without hurting him.

— Space? — He tilted his head, as if he didn't understand the concept. — Oh, you're so adorable when you try to resist, but you know, don't you? No one else can take care of you like I can. — His eyes fixed on yours, as if he was hypnotizing you.

You tried to pull your arm away, but he wouldn't let go.

— I will never let you get hurt, [Name]. Because you… — he lowered his face until his lips almost touched your ear — are already mine. —

His words carried a poisonous sweetness, and you realized that no matter how much you tried to escape, Jade Leech would always be there, watching you, protecting you in his own sick way, and slowly enveloping you in his possessive depths.

And the worst of all? Part of you was beginning to wonder if you really wanted to escape…

<3

[cuubism]

hello friends. despite my 9 million existing dreamling wips i'm feeling the need to branch out a bit for the sake of my mental variety. what pairing other than dreamling should i write a little something for? could be romantic or platonic

other way of phrasing i guess: any pairings you really want to see more fics for in the fandom?

[sskk-manifesto]

Ep 5!!!

[juliareed]

Fandom: Alias Relationships: Sark/Irina + Nadia/Elena, Nadia/Roberto, Nadia/Sloane Song: Would've, Could've, Should've by Taylor Swift Summary: Exploring some of the parallels between Sark and Nadia, by comparing Sark’s relationship with Irina to Nadia’s relationships with Sloane, Elena and Roberto. Content warnings: Character death, child abuse, needles, torture, violence, flashing lights