#and then by the end of the movie that's how he comes to her

[stxrslut]

SWEETIE!READER & WHEEZIE ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

how I think sweetie!reader and wheezie cameron’s relationship developed 𝜗𝜚

cw : drug overdose, general girly bonding & fluff

— the first real bond is formed after rafe overdoses, there’s a period where he’s at rehab and both of you miss him dearly and you end up inadvertently bonding over it.

the night it happens you find wheezie sitting outside after it had all happened, it turns out nobody had really let her know what was going on, all she’d seen was her brothers lifeless body being taken out into the ambulance and rushed away somewhere unknown.

you’d not known what to say so you didn’t say anything, you just sat on the wall next to her and put an arm around her as you both cried silent tears. maybe you’d murmured a quiet reassurance to her, “he’s going to be okay.” even if you didn’t actually know that yourself. you’d both needed to hear it.

— rose and ward are all over tannyhill the first few days afterwards, they don’t have time for her and she’s pushed aside.

she finds you one night, baking cookies. she shows curiosity and soon she’s completely involved, you each have a bowl of dough to kneed and you decorate them together, it’s the first time either of you really smile since the incident with rafe.

— after that night you notice how pushed aside she feels, and so you arrange a small sleepover type thing, really it’s just putting on face masks and watching a movie considering you’re staying in the same house.

maybe at some point during it wheezie turned to you and asked “what happened to rafe? actually? rose and dad won’t tell me and.. i know it was bad.”

you have half a mind to not tell her either, but you know she deserves the truth, however horrible it is. her big brother went away and she didn’t know why.

it’s a hard conversation, but afterwards both of you feel relieved in a way, wheezie for finally knowing the truth and the whole picture, you for finally having spoken to someone at least vaguely about what you saw that night.

— the week before rafe comes back from rehab you are both closer than ever, you both get ready for his return with great excitement.

you make his bed and go shopping to make a care basket for him. wheezie makes cookies, using the recipe you taught her. everything is perfect on your own terms and you take her with you to pick rafe up from the rehab facility for a sweet reunion of you all.

— rafe is surprised to see you both so close, but he’s happy about it, you being close to wheezie also allows for her to come over more often and he’s always happy to see his little sister

sweetie becomes like a big sister to wheezie, even under such horrible circumstances, a wholesome and loving relationship was formed and for that you will both always be thankful

[v6quewrlds]

Dad Joe who accidently hurts their daughter while doing her hair, and he feels bad and comforts her and gives her treats, etc. The reader comes home to the both of them, passed out on the couch, watching a movie with treat wrappers around them. Joe wakes up and explains and comforts him, telling him it was a common accident. Just thought it would be fluffy and sweet.

♡♡♡

joe looked down at his illuminated phone screen. 10 am. he had been at this for an hour and a half already. this was his first time attempting to take care of amara's dark coils alone, and your written instructions were more complex than any playbook he had ever studied.

he had somewhat successfully gotten through the wash routine but the detangling process was a whole different story. he knew he had to be gentle, but it was so easy to get lost in his concentration and accidentally yank too hard.

amara scrunched up her nose and closed her eyes, bracing herself for the inevitable tug. joe took a deep breath and gently pulled the comb through her hair, creating a part down the middle. "perfect," he whispered to her reflection, his voice full of pride.

he picked up the tiny hair ties, each one a vibrant shade of pink, and began to separate her hair into two sections. the first pigtail went up without a hitch. but as he moved to the second section, his fingers slipped, and the comb snagged on a particularly stubborn coil.

"ow!" amara whined, her eyes flying open. tears spilled down her cheeks, and joe's heart clenched. he had been so close. he gently brushed the tears away with his thumb, his eyes filled with apology. he set the comb down and picked her up, cradling her in his arms.

her little body trembled with sobs as he held her, and joe felt his own eyes sting with the pain of knowing his baby was hurt. "i'm sorry, amara," he said again, his voice soft with whispered emotion. "i'm so sorry. did that hurt really bad?"

amara nodded, her chin wobbling as she buried her face into his shoulder. "how about some candy?" joe offered, trying to lighten the mood as he carried her to the kitchen. "it's our little secret, okay?" he opened the pantry and pulled out a bag of her favorite mini reese's cups, the sweet smell wafting through the room.

amara's sobs slowed as she looked up at him with curiosity, her eyes red and puffy. "candy?" she sniffled.

he placed her in the high chair and gave her one of the mini-cups, watching her face light up as she took a bite. he sat opposite her, his eyes watching her expression carefully as they shared the sweet treat. the chocolate stuck to her fingers and her cheeks, but joe didn't mind. it was a small price to pay for the small giggle that escaped her mouth.

with renewed patience, joe began to braid the second pigtail, taking his time with each strand. his large fingers worked deftly, despite their size, as he carefully shaped amara's hair into the style nyla had taught him. the kitchen grew quiet except for the sound of their munching and occasional giggles as joe tickled her neck with the end of the braid.

"all done, pumpkin, wanna take a look?" joe held out his phone, the camera app open and ready to capture the moment. she nodded eagerly, her eyes wide with excitement.

he snapped a picture of her with her new hairstyle, amara's smile was a mix of joy and relief, her eyes shining with excitement to show her mommy. "look how pretty you are," joe said, his voice full of pride as he held up the phone for her to see. she beamed back at him, a chocolate smear on her cheek adding to the charm of the moment.

they cuddled on the couch, joe's strong arms wrapped around her as they watched her favorite cartoons. the comforting embrace helped soothe any remaining sting from the hair-pulling incident. her head lolled onto his shoulder, and he felt her breathing even out as the sugar rush from the candy began to wear off.

joe's eyes began to droop, his eyelids growing heavy with sleep. amara's soft snores grew louder, synchronizing with his own deepening breaths. he knew he should clean her up before you returned, but the warmth of her tiny body pressed against his own was too comforting to resist. soon, they were both fast asleep, their snores echoing in the quiet room.

the door creaked open, and you stepped in, your sneakers squeaking against the hardwood floor. the sight before you made you smile, despite the mess of hair products scattered across the table. joe and amara slept peacefully, with chocolate smudges on amara's face and the brown wrappers of the mini reese's cups scattered like confetti around them.

you couldn't help but chuckle at joe's expression - a mix of exhaustion and contentment. it wasn't often you saw your husband so at ease. here he was, snoring lightly, his chest rising and falling with the same rhythm as your daughter's.

setting your groceries down, you took out your phone and snapped a few photos of the two of them, capturing the tender moment and sending it off to the grandparents' groupchat. the image of joe's gentle embrace, amara's head nestled into the crook of his neck, was one you knew would be framed and cherished. despite his grumbling about your complicated hair care instructions, he had clearly risen to the occasion.

[therealmylesmorales]

Loser!Vi Headcannons pt 2

Y’all gave so much love, I feel like I had to reward you guys ☺️

Warnings: uhhh same as last time, I guess. I’m too lazy to check what it was, masc4masc relationship

WC: 700

⭒ Vi is a chronic biter. You learned that pretty early in your relationship. And yet, you never know when it’s coming until it’s too late. She would act like she would be leaning in for a kiss…until she bit the closest part of your body; your cheeks, your arm, your ass

“OW— fuck Vi!”

”That didn’t hurt, you're being dramatic.”

⭒ Another cute but annoying thing Vi does is that she fake boxes you. Her fists will never come in contact with your face or body but she still finds it funny. She’ll even make sound effects while doing so. But the second you lightly punch her stomach to get her to stop, it’s the end of the world.

⭒ She cried like a baby when she got her nose pierced. You were with her and by how hard she clutched your hand, you would’ve thought she got shot. You made fun of her the entire time.

”Not only do you have a big ass back tattoo, you also have one on your face.”

“That’s DIFFERENT!”

⭒ Vi’s major changes every few months. She just loves doing new things and will get obsessed with it and unfortunately be bored with it in not too long after. However, she would probably get a degree in business so she could take over Vander’s bar once he decided to retire.

⭒ Sticking with the college theme for a second; you’re known around campus for being chill and somewhat friendly to others. Vi, on the other hand…people think she’s brash and her temper definitely doesn’t help. But people have noticed that when she’s around you, she’ll siphon off your energy and is a lot more pleasant to be around.

⭒ Vi likes kissing you more than actual sex. She’ll still never turn down the offer, but kissing you feels calming to her. After a day of classes or dealing with whatever, it is her favorite way to unwind.

⭒ Vi loves horror movies, and loves when you watch them with her (even if you hate them/are scared easily). Her favorite franchise is probably Friday the 13th but Ghostface is her favorite slasher. The only problem with her watching horror movies is her inability to easily fall asleep afterwards. Normally, it takes her five minutes to be knocked out.

”Cupcake, are you awake?”

”Vi, PLEASE go to sleep.”

⭒ Surprise to no one, she cuts her hair on her own. Every few weeks you’ll find her in the bathroom with scissors and a shaver in hand, trying her best to get her hair looking good. You help her with the back of her head and she appreciates you for that.

⭒ Vi is literally obsessed with you. Her entire camera roll is filled with pictures of you both or just you; pictures she took on dates or just candid ones. Her wallpaper is even one of you, a rare selfie you took and she cherished it as soon as you sent it. Vi even gave you a special ringtone and whenever you text or call her, she can’t help but kick her feet.

⭒ Like everyone, Vi has red flags. But her most noticeable one is that she’s hardheaded. She doesn’t like to listen, especially when she knows thinks she’s right. She will stand on business until she can’t…and when that happens, she’ll come back with her tail between her legs, hoping you’re not too mad at her.

“Hey…are you mad at me?”

”Did you learn your lesson?”

”I did. I’m sorry.”

A little something extra for my black!readers 🫶🏾

⭒ No matter how hard both you and Mel tried to teach her, she nor Jayce still understand Spades. Viktor got it down within thirty minutes, but those two were still clueless. So, you all decided on a more easier game, Uno!

Uno was banned that same night after you two almost broke up and she and Jayce almost got into a fist fight.

⭒ And someone said that Vi would take the fuchsia bonnet with the black headband, and that was totally the one I was talking about (cause I have the same one). She refused to give it back at that point so the only logical solution was to buy another.

[quarterlifekitty]

Letterboxd: König

Part of a series. These are movies I think König watches, looks at the characters, and thinks “that’s us.”

Just like how the Ghost one ended up being super sad, this one is super sappy.

cw: spoilers for the listed movies.

The Last Unicorn (1982)- This will become apparent as the list goes on, but I think König has a soft spot for fairytales and fantasy. The last unicorn is no exception, and he feels a reverence towards you similar to how the Prince feels for Amalthea. To him, you’re this beautiful creature that’s graced his life, and now he devotes it to pleasing you, impressing you, to understanding you. You’re so perfect for him he sometimes feels you must be something supernatural, some fae or angel that only he can see.

Thumbelina (1994)- this one hurts his heart a little. There’s the obvious connection— Thumbelina being so sad at the idea that there’s no one in the world that’s just the right size, that there might be no one out there for her. Truthfully in this one, he sees himself as Thumbelina, and you’re like Prince Cornelius. You’re his wings, his hope, his dreams come true.

Donkey Skin (1970)- Again, a beautiful fantasy movie that he finds incredibly romantic. The way that the prince sees the princess out of her disguise, dressed in her gown gleaming like the sun. How the world, it seems, is against her and cannot see her for who she is. How they see each other in their dreams, and he stops at nothing to find her— makes himself sick with love just as a way to create some tenuous connection between them. Once again, he may find himself a little more aligned with the princess in this one— he sees you as the one that courted and saved him and saw him for what he was when the rest of the world was cruel.

The Shape of Water (2017)- You can see the theme here, right? Him as the tortured, the creature, the misunderstood and hated. You who feel love for him despite his appearance and lack of propensity for conversation. Also the way that your friends are kind of mystified as to the physical logistics of your sex life. Y’know.

Midsommar (2018)- I’ve spoken of this before. But if you had a boyfriend when König met you, or even just a man you were close to, he was totally fantasizing about that guy getting sewn into a bear and locked in a burning barn. Upon his first watching, did he realize that Midsommar did not in fact have a happy ending? Maybe not.

[myss-lys]

Like The Prince? ~ F.T.

Summary: In which a pink haired girl is met with the most sought after man in all of Oz, Fiyero.

————————————————————————

I twirl the yellow flower in my hand as I walk through the dark woods. My professor sent me out to get a specific flower for the potion that we’re currently learning how to make.

I’m snapped out of my thoughts when I hear a twig snap behind me. My head whips around. Suddenly my mind is racing with every scary movie, book, and story I’ve ever heard. I quickly turn back to the path and begin walking at a fast pace.

I nearly fall backwards when a horse comes running right at me. It stops right before reaching me and both the horse and the man on it laugh at me. “Woah, didn’t mean to scare you.” The man says. I recollect myself before scolding the man like I’m his mother. “Are you crazy? You cannot be riding like that at night you could kill somebody!” I shout. “Ok mom.” The horse snickers under its breath causing the man the laugh.

I roll my eyes before walking back on the path. The man follows beside me, still on his horse. “I don’t think you have to worry about being trampled at night, considering you have that bright pink hair.” The man says. My hand subconsciously touches my pink hair. The pink hair I was born with an have been relentlessly teased for.

“Just get whatever you have to say about it out of your system now.” I say, defeated. “Okay then. It’s a wonderful color on you.” He says. I look up at him and scoff. “Who-who are you?” I ask. “I’m Fiyero Tigelaar.” He says. I scoff again. “Like the prince?” I ask. “Of course darling.” He says. “Like I believe that.” I say.

He chuckles. A silence falls over us before he breaks it. “Where are you headed to?” He asks. “Shiz.” I say. “Why don’t you let me give you a ride? It’s not out of my path.” He says. I laugh. “Yeah that doesn’t sound suspicious at all. First you’re a prince and now suddenly my destination just happens to be in your path?” I say.

“Suit yourself.” He says before speeding up. “Wait! Just because my feet are starting to hurt, I’ll let you give me a ride.” I say with a smile. He grins at me before reaching his hand down to help me up.

The ride to Shiz is filled is lighthearted conversation and many laughs. I notice he’s taking the longer way to Shiz, seeming to not want the conversation to end.

He stops at the gates of Shiz. “I hope to see you around.” He says. “I don’t.” I say, jokingly, before unlocking the gate with my Shiz Pin. I hear him chuckle behind me. I turn back around and our eyes meet, for what I think is the final time. “See you later, Pinkie.” He says. I wince at the nickname I had opened up to him about. The one I’ve been called my whole life and have. “Bye, prince.” I say with a sarcastic tone.

I turn around and walk away, not looking back. I feel his lingering stare before hearing him and his horse ride away.

The next morning I open my door to get the daily paper. The front page shows the man from last night, the title reading “Prince Now Attending Shiz”

He wasn’t lying.

Later that day, I'm walking to class when I hear a commotion in the courtyard. Galinda Upland, the most popular girl at Shiz, is practically hanging off someone's arm. As I get closer, I realize it's him. Fiyero.

He's smiling politely as she chatters away, flipping her perfect golden curls and batting her eyelashes. I can't help but notice how they look together - like something out of a fairy tale. The handsome prince and the beautiful socialite.

I try to hurry past, clutching my books to my chest, but then I hear his voice cut through Galinda's endless stream of words. "Excuse me for just a moment," he says, already moving away from her despite her protests.

"Hey, Pinkie!" he calls out. I freeze mid-step, feeling everyone's eyes turn to me. Galinda's mouth drops open in shock as Fiyero jogs over to where I'm standing.

"I was hoping I'd run into you," he says, grinning at me. "Though I have to say, you're much easier to spot in daylight."

I can hear the whispers starting already. Galinda's perfectly manicured hand is pressed to her chest in horror as she watches the scene unfold. The prince - her prince of exactly ten minutes - is talking to the girl with the weird pink hair.

"Shouldn't you be getting back to your adoring fan?" I ask, nodding toward Galinda.

He glances over his shoulder and shrugs. "I'd rather talk to the girl who called me crazy and lectured me about night riding safety. Much more interesting conversation."

I feel my cheeks flush, both from his words and the increasing number of stares we're attracting. "Well, someone has to keep you in line, Your Highness," I reply, trying to keep my voice steady despite my racing heart. The crowd around us continues to grow, and I can practically feel Galinda's glare burning into my back.

Part 2 —> coming soon

[foreverisntenough]

‘Movie Night’

Summary: If only life was like the movies. For years, you’d flirted with the idea of something more with Trent, your brother’s best friend.  You'd always danced around the edges of something more with him, sharing flirty moments that felt like scenes straight from the cinema. You had been silently desperate for the main character of your life’s film to finally get the boy but you knew moments like that were saved for Hollywood. The lines were clear; you were always going to be his mate’s little sister. So what happens when you go off script? In a whirlwind of passion, secrets, and stolen moments, you're left wondering: will you and your brother's best friend get the happy ending you've been waiting for, or was it never meant to be more than a fantasy? 

Index:

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI [ smut, slight mention of dv, loss of a parent, drinking - not sure what else really… if i miss anything please lmk!

Note: Thank you for reading! Please be sure to like, comment, or message me what you think of the series!

Disclaimer: No one is crazy about him atm, me included, so this is strictly for my readers and my readers only. I don’t condone his behavior at all -Just let me finish out this fic please. Don’t come for me. I’m only a girl with a google doc whose spent hours upon hours and days on end on this fic

Chapter 13 - 'Locked In’ | ‘Movie Night'

word count - 11.4k

The night was quiet except for the faint hum of streetlights filtering through your windows, but that peace was shattered by the incessant buzz of your phone vibrating on the bedside table. You were fast asleep, but Layla, curled up next to you on the other side of your bed, was anything but. She groaned, sitting up and glaring at your phone like it had personally offended her. Finally, she snatched it up, squinting at the screen. Trent. The notifications wouldn’t stop.

‘You awake, baby?’ ‘I just landed. Miss you so much xx.’ ‘Can I come over, pretty girl.’ ‘I’m outside if you’re up.’

Layla sighed, her annoyance mixing with protectiveness. She unlocked your phone, her thumb hovering over the keyboard before finally typing back. 

‘She’s asleep. Go home.’ 

But Trent wasn’t one to take no for an answer. Ten minutes later, she heard the sound of the side door creak open, and her heart jumped. Grabbing the closest thing resembling a weapon—a high heel —she tiptoed downstairs.

“Trent,” she hissed, relief and irritation washing over her simultaneously when she saw him standing in the hallway. “What the hell?” It wasn’t uncommon for any of Jack’s friends to just let themselves in but you knew that, Layla didn’t.

“I needed to see her,” Trent said quietly, his tone apologetic but firm. Layla’s frustration boiled over. 

“Honestly…” Layla sighed, frustrated she was awake, frustrated that your relationship wasn’t ironed out yet. The scenes of you upset again and again flashed in her mind even if you had just gushed about how good London had been with Trent last night to her. “T… you need to man up, seriously!” she snapped with a groan, her voice louder than intended. She rubbed her eyes tiredly.  “You’re sneaking into her house like you’re 16, and her parents are upstairs. What are you even doing?!” He flinched at her words, but his brows furrowed in frustration. 

“Layla, what do you want me to do?” he asked, his voice tinged with defensiveness. “Things are good right now. Really good. We’re sorting it. What am I supposed to do here?”

“What do I want you to do?” Layla threw her arms up. “I want you to treat her how she’s meant to be treated!”

“I do!” Trent shot back, his voice rising slightly. But then it softened, guilt creeping in as he added, “When it’s just us…” The reality that he was a grown man sneaking around in his best mate’s house for his sister harrowing. 

“Exactly,” Layla cut him off. Both of them slightly caught off guard by how serious of a conversation they were having as the night approached morning. “When it’s just you two. But Trent, she’s not some girl you can keep in the shadows. She’s not your secret. She’s not that girl to you, and you know it.” Trent’s defenses crumbled. He looked at Layla, the weight of her words sinking in. Layla sighed, her voice trembling as she continued. “She’s been waiting for you. I’ve seen you pine after her for years. Years, Trent. And you’ve played it too cool. It’s like you don’t care.  But now you’ve got her—she’s yours, fully and completely—and you’re still making her feel like she’s not enough. Do you know how much she trusts you? She’s playing by your rules because she wants this so badly. She wants you so badly. So please, Trent…” Her voice cracked, and she took a shaky breath, tears brimming in her eyes. “Please want her back. Want her the way she deserves to be wanted.” Trent’s chest tightened as he stepped closer to Layla cautiously, the sight of her lip trembling catching him off guard. He nodded, swallowing hard. 

“I do, Lay. I swear, I do. I just—” He sighed frustrated by circumstance. 

“Then show her,” Layla interrupted, her voice soft but firm. “Show her before she convinces herself you don’t.” She told Trent heartbroken by your stupid mistake. Your decision to text Josh was solely your fault and Layla agreed but that didn’t mean she felt like Trent couldn’t have made things a little better than they had been. Still, even with her reasoning clear in her mind, she didn’t think it was her place to tell him about the message so Trent nodded again, more resolutely this time, his jaw tightening as determination flickered in his eyes. He was done hiding, done pretending this wasn’t the most important thing in his life. 

“Okay,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I will. You know… I  want her so much, Lays. I can’t even begin to put it into words,” Trent admitted, his voice raw and trembling with emotion. “I’m working on it. I promise. I’m not fucking about.” His confession hung in the air, and for a moment, Layla was stunned. The vulnerability in his voice, the sheer honesty—she couldn’t help but soften. Trent reached for her, pulling her into a hug. She resisted for a split second before melting into the embrace, her sniffle betraying her emotions.

“Okay…” she murmured, stepping back and wiping her eyes quickly, a shy giggle escaping her lips. “Alright, well… you’re here. And I know she’d want you to stay.” Trent’s face softened further, relief washing over him at her words. “Come on, then,” she said gently, grabbing his wrist and tugging him toward the staircase. “I’ll stay in the guest room.” Trent nodded, a quiet ‘Thank you’ escaping his lips. But before he could take another step, Layla turned back and narrowed her eyes at him with mock severity. “But I’ve got my eye on you, yeah?” She snapped. Trent chuckled under his breath, the tension easing slightly. So he turned and climbed the stairs, his heart pounding with every step. Layla trailed behind, her chest rising and falling with deep breaths as she silently prayed he’d get it right this time.

 “Thanks, Lay. Really.” he said, his tone soft and genuine. With that, he slowly pushed open your bedroom door, careful not to make too much noise. The room was dimly lit by the glow of your bedside lamp, and there you were, tangled in your sheets, your features peaceful in sleep. Trent’s heart clenched as he took you in, the familiar ache of longing mixed with the overwhelming warmth of being close to you again. He stepped into the room, closing the door softly behind him. Layla, standing in the hall, gave him one last look of approval before heading toward the spare room, leaving him to figure out what came next. Trent hesitated for a moment, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest, his mind racing. But then he crossed the room, pulling off his jumper and trousers before slipping under the covers next to you. You stirred slightly at the shift, your brows furrowing as you felt his lips on your shoulder. You opened your eyes just enough to see him. 

“T?” you whispered, your voice groggy and laced with confusion but deluded bliss of him possibly being here. 

“Yeah, it’s me, pretty girl,” he murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble. “I missed you. I couldn’t wait to get my baby back.” You blinked a few times, the fog of sleep lifting as you registered his words. 

“You’re here?” A small, sleepy smile crept onto your face. 

“I’m here,” he confirmed, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. “Go back to sleep f’me. I’m not going anywhere.” And with that, he kissed your forehead, his lips lingering against your skin as you let yourself drift back into dreams of him, in his arms. For the first time in weeks, he felt at peace.

The warmth of the morning sunlight filtered through your bedroom curtains, casting a soft golden glow across the room. The light spilled onto Trent, highlighting the sharp lines of his cheekbones, the gentle curve of his lashes, and the slight pout of his lips as he slept. He looked utterly peaceful, almost angelic, and for a moment, you just stared, letting yourself soak in the sight of him after missing him so deeply. Your chest swelled with affection, the ache of longing you'd carried melting away as you pressed a soft kiss to his bare chest. The hum of your lips against his skin made him shift slightly in his sleep, his arm tightening instinctively around you. Smiling to yourself, you moved closer, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck, the scent of his skin filling your senses. You couldn't resist the temptation to pepper light, feathery kisses along his neck, lingering in the sensitive spot just below his ear. You nibbled gently, and his breathing hitched, his body stirring beneath you as his eyelashes fluttered. You smirked against his skin. Trent could feel the curl of your plump lips against him. He was drowsily confused but comforted by it. Trent stirred slightly at your touch, his muscles tensing beneath your lips. But it all became clear when your kisses started to get a bit heavier as you moved down his neck to his collarbone. Your hands grazed over his body and down his abs until you began to play with the waistband of his boxers. You slid your hand under it and Trent groaned.

"Good morning, baby," he murmured, his voice rough with sleep. His eyes flicked open, and for a moment, he simply gazed at you, his expression filled with adoration. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mmm, better than well," you replied, your voice husky with desire. "I had the best dream about you." Trent's lips curved into a playful smirk, and he pulled you closer, his strong arms wrapping around your waist. 

"Oh yeah? What kind of dream?" He purred.  You giggled, feeling a bit shy but excited to share the cheeky dream you had last night with him. 

"The kind where you couldn't keep your hands off me," you whispered, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. "Where you kissed me all over." Trent's breath hitched as you spoke, and you could feel his desire rising. His hands began to roam over your body, tracing the curves of your hips and waist, making you shiver with anticipation. 

"I can make that dream come true, you know," he said, his voice low and seductive.

"Oh, really?" you teased, looking up at him through your lashes. "And what about my dream where I was moaning your name?" You cooed. Trent's eyes darkened with desire, and he pressed his body against yours, his erection straining against your thigh. 

"I can make that happen too, baby. I love hearing you say my name." His words sent a thrill through your body, and you couldn't resist any longer. "Please, T," you begged, your voice breathless as you began to grind your core on top of his hardening cock. His lips pressed into yours for a suffocating kiss. Your body laid flush against his as you made out, laying completely overtop of him. You sat back up on his lap, straddling his waist and your tits bounced in a mesmerizing way that had Trent immediately following you up, pulling your tank top over your head swiftly.  You were gasping out a moan when his free hand came up to play with your nipples. 

“Oh my god, s-shit, that feels so good, baby.” You whined as his lips came around one of your nipples swiftly, his tongue flicking back and forth over it, surrounding it. Attending to one and then the other, swapping his mouth for his hand and his hand for his mouth. "I need you. I need to feel you inside me." You begged. Trent's eyes smoldered with passion as he positioned himself between your folds. 

"You're so needy for me, baby," he growled, his voice thick with need. "You want me to come right inside? So wet f’me already." He rattled off words but you had a hard time listening after he lined his cock up with your entrance, lifting your ass up and guided you to sink down taking all of him immediately. You were so wet it was seamless but the minimal foreplay made for pleasurable pain from the stretch of him. “You’re such good girl f’me. You okay, baby?”  You nodded and started to ride him after adjusting a little. It felt so good you could feel the knot in your stomach form almost immediately. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure, as he thrusted in a slow, deliberate rhythm upward. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you open as he moved into you again and again. "Fuck, you feel so good," he grunted, his breath hot against your neck.

“So fucking good." You moaned in response, your nails digging into his shoulders as you urged him on.  Before he hooked his arm under your thigh, flipping you over, to be underneath him.

"Harder, T," you pleaded. "Please, fuck me harder." You begged. He obliged, his movements becoming more urgent, his hips slamming into yours as he pounded into your core. The sound of skin slapping against skin and your moans filled the room. Trent's dominant nature took over, and he pinned your wrists above your head, holding you down as he claimed your body.

"You like it rough, don't you, baby?" he panted, his eyes locked with yours. "You love it when I take control."

"Yeah, fuck," you cried out, your body trembling on the edge of release. Trent's thrusts became even more intense, his body a blur of motion as he drove into you with abandon. His free hand reached down, finding your clit, and began to rub it in circles, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You practically yelled as Trent hit your g-spot hard and fast, again and again and again. You could hear just how wet you were as your walls clamped around him tighter. The knot in your stomach was coming undone quicker than you expected this morning. You tried to put your hand over your mouth to muffle your moans knowing Layla was in the house but he wasn’t having that. He held your hands above you with restraint as he continued to fuck you. 

“Wanna hear how good I’m making you feel, baby.” He whispered against your neck before biting your sensitive skin only pulling another, louder, moan from you. 

“T…” you whined. “Please, I’m so close, I’m so… f-fuck!… I’m so close.” You told him squeezing your eyes shut as you started to feel your orgasm approaching. He was so deep inside that you could feel every ridge and vein. 

“Shit, just wait a little bit for me, beautiful. You can do it. Yeah? Just a little more for me. Take it like a good girl.” Trent struggled to get the words out as your pussy started to clench tighter around him. One of his large hands drew back down your body in between you two and began rubbing circles on your throbbing clit again. Your mind turned to mush. His thrusts becoming increasingly sloppier and harsher. 

“You’re such a good girl, f’me. Cum f’me now, baby. Cum all over my cock, yeah? I’m gonna fill you up, baby. Make a fucking mess on my cock while I fill you up.” Trent babbled as you came, your body aching, your eyes squeezing shut tighter again. You were gasping as Trent fucked you into your high.

“T…baby” you moaned, feeling his release painting your insides. Your body tightened, every muscle coiling with tension, and then you exploded, crying out his name as your orgasm ripped through you, his hips jerking uncontrollably as he emptied himself deep within you.

“That’s my good girl…” he said as he pumped you full of his cum extending the pleasure of your high. He laid on top of you completely spent as you both breathed heavily. Every part of Trent was so unfairly pretty you just laid there admiring every inch unable to move not just from his physical weight atop you but the weight he seemed to have on your heart.  For a moment, you both laid there, panting and sweaty, your hearts racing in unison. Trent released your wrists and cuddled into your neck, his weight pressing you into the mattress. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close, feeling his heart pounding against yours.

"That was so good baby," he whispered, his lips brushing your ear. You smiled, contentment washing over you.  He lifted his head, his brown eyes sparkling with affection. The morning had been nothing short of perfection. You and Trent lay tangled in the soft sheets, basking in the afterglow, your bodies warm and completely at ease. The sunlight spilled over you both, illuminating the intimate serenity of the moment. Trent had his arms draped lazily over you, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, planting lazy kisses along your shoulder. You couldn't help but smile, running your fingers over his messy morning curls you relished the quiet intimacy. But peace never lasted long in your world. The sound of your bedroom door creaking open made you tense. Before you could react, Layla strode in, her presence unbothered and entirely too casual considering the situation.

"Okay, time's up," she declared, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed and a smug smile. "I gave you your morning glory. Lovely to hear, by the way. Really enjoyed listening along." Her sarcastic tone was laced with amusement, her smirk widening when you groaned in embarrassment.

"Layla!" you hissed, sitting up quickly and grabbing the blanket to cover yourself. Trent, however, didn't move much-if anything, he tightened his hold on you, pulling you back against his chest as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

"What? I'm just being a good friend," she said, shrugging innocently. "Jack said he'd be back soon, so, you know..." She trailed off, raising her eyebrows pointedly.

"How do you even know that?" you asked, narrowing your eyes at her.

"Oh, I checked your iMessages," she replied breezily, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Lovely," you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You couldn't help but laugh, though, despite yourself. Layla always had a way of invading your space and somehow making you laugh while doing it.

"Up to you guys," she said with a grin, throwing Trent's T-shirt at him. "Just thought you'd want to know. No pressure." As she turned to leave, Trent finally shifted, his arms still wrapped around you as he sat up straighter. Instead of making any effort to move, though, he pressed his lips to your neck with a low hum. 

"Mmm, just want more of you," he murmured against your skin, his voice still husky from the morning. Layla paused in the doorway, turning back to glance at the two of you. She rolled her eyes dramatically, her expression a mix of exasperation and amusement. 

"You've ruined him, you know that, right?" she said, addressing you directly with a slight giggle. "Trent Alexander-Arnold, reduced to a lovesick puppy. Honestly, it's amazing, and I love you for it." You laughed, shaking your head as Trent grumbled something incoherent into your neck, clearly uninterested in Layla's commentary.

"Alright, I'm out," she announced, holding up her hands in mock surrender. "Just don't say I didn't warn you when Jack comes storming in." And as she left, you looked over at Trent, who finally pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. His smile was lazy, but the way he looked at you was full of warmth.

"She's not wrong, you know," he murmured, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"About Jack storming in?" you teased, arching an eyebrow. He chuckled, shaking his head.

 "No. About me being completely ruined by you." He kissed you then, soft and lingering, as if to prove his point. And as you melted into him, you decided that if this was being ruined, you wouldn't have it any other way.

The morning felt bittersweet as Trent darted out of your house, leaving behind the warm intimacy you’d shared. You sighed, lying back in bed, wishing things were easier. Wishing you could just wake up together, make breakfast, and spend the day entwined without the looming threat of Jack finding out. The secrecy weighed heavy, and as much as you understood why, it didn’t make it any less frustrating. You were still lost in thought when your phone buzzed, breaking you out of your melancholy. Trent’s name lit up the screen, and you answered almost immediately.

“Hi,” you murmured sweetly but not trying not to sound too eager.

“Get ready f’me,” he said, his voice warm and certain. “I’ll be there in half an hour to pick you up, yeah?” Your heart lifted at his words, a wave of relief flooding through your chest. It felt like the distance between you two, however short-lived, was unbearable now. You couldn’t be without him anymore—not even for a morning. Thirty minutes later, you were stepping out the door, butterflies flitting in your stomach as Trent pulled into the driveway. When you climbed into the passenger seat, your eyes widened in surprise—on the center console beside you was a bouquet of flowers, fresh and colorful, wrapped in brown paper.

“For you,” he said with a grin, his dimple showing as he glanced your way. You smiled, your fingers brushing over the soft petals. 

“Thank you, they’re beautiful.” You giggled. 

“You’re beautiful,” he countered smoothly, leaning over to press a quick kiss to your cheek before putting the car in gear. As he pulled out of the driveway, you glanced back toward your house, relieved to have snuck out just before Jack got back. The thrill of sneaking around should have been nerve-wracking, but all you could focus on was the way Trent’s hand drifted over to rest on your thigh, his thumb stroking lazy circles as he drove. And as the car sped down the quiet streets, you felt a flicker of hope—hope that, for a little while at least, you could have exactly what you wanted. Just you and him, no secrets, no interruptions, just the two of you stealing moments that felt like forever.

The soft rustle of the morning breeze and the gentle lapping of water against the docks set the scene for a moment you hadn’t dared to imagine. You felt the brisk wind off the water nip at your skin, but it was Trent’s warmth beside you that anchored you. His hand firmly in yours, fingers interwoven, you leaned against his shoulder, letting your worries melt away for just a little while. The bouquet of flowers lay on the bench beside you, a vibrant contrast to the stillness of the scene. They were beautiful, fragrant, and entirely unexpected—much like him returning this morning and whisking you away. You hadn’t said much since he’d picked you up, but there was no need. The silence wasn’t awkward. It was comforting, filled with the weight of unsaid emotions and the mutual understanding that neither of you wanted to be apart anymore. Trent shifted slightly, turning his body toward you. His large, warm hand cupped your cheek, and his thumb brushed against your skin. You looked up at him, and his brown eyes softened in a way that made your heart skip.

“Gimme a kiss,” he murmured, his voice low and sweet, filled with a tenderness that made your chest ache. You hesitated, your eyes darting around the empty docks, fear flickering in the back of your mind. 

“What if someone sees?” you whispered, voice laced with worry. His thumb stilled, and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He leaned closer, his eyes never leaving yours as he spoke. 

“Then they see me with my girl,” he said softly, his voice steady and sure, grounding you in a way only he could. And just like that, your doubts vanished. Trent closed the small distance between you, and the world seemed to stop. His lips met yours, and it was everything. It wasn’t rushed or hesitant. It was steady and confident, yet gentle. His lips moved with a purpose, and you felt the depth of his feelings in every second. It wasn’t just a kiss—it was an unspoken promise, a declaration of how much he cared. The warmth of his hand on your cheek, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the salt in the air, the sunlight catching his skin—it all came together in a moment that felt too perfect to be real. When he finally pulled back, his eyes lingered on you, his hands still cradling your face like you were something fragile, something precious. He looked at you like you were the only thing that mattered. “You’re so beautiful, baby” he whispered, almost to himself, as if he couldn’t believe it. Your cheeks flushed, and you couldn’t help the shy smile that spread across your lips. For the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel the need to hide, to worry, to second-guess what this was. In that moment, it was just you and Trent—no secrets, no complications, just you and the boy who made you feel like the center of the universe. The weight of his words settled heavily in your chest, warming you in a way you hadn’t expected. Trent’s voice was soft but firm, filled with an urgency you rarely heard from him. His hand lingered on your thigh, grounding you as you tried to process everything he was saying.

“I know it’s been shitty,” he started again, his tone apologetic but resolute, his gaze fixed on yours. “And I know this doesn’t fix the hiding or make it all better, but…” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small blue box that instantly caught your attention. Your breath hitched as he held it out to you. “Before you say I didn’t have to, or that it’s too much, blah blah,” he teased lightly, “I did have to. I needed to, because I want you to know that I’m locked in with you. Alright?” His voice cracked slightly at the end, betraying the emotions he was working so hard to steady. Tears threatened to spill as you tried to steady yourself.  Guilt about texting Josh refusing to leave your mind, but leaving this moment wasn’t an option either.

“I know… we’re just figuring it out,” you mumbled, your voice thick with emotion.

“Yeah, I know, baby. And I’m sorry we are,” he said, leaning closer and brushing his thumb along the back of your hand. “But please, you gotta trust me here. I know what I want. I want you. None of the games. None of the hiding. We’ll get there, yeah? Just stay with me.” His forehead pressed gently against yours as his words sunk in, and the lump in your throat grew heavier. 

“Promise?” you whispered, your voice trembling as tears began to fall.

“I promise,” he murmured, his voice soft but full of conviction. His eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, it felt like the entire world had stilled. “I’ve got us, yeah?” You nodded, unable to speak, tears slipping down your cheeks as he reached up to brush them away with a soft hum.

“Want to open that for me, please?” he cooed, his voice gentle but encouraging. Your hands shook as you took the box from him, its weight both literal and symbolic. The unmistakable Tiffany blue sent your heart racing, and as you opened the lid, the sunlight caught on the diamonds of a delicate lock bracelet inside. It was breathtaking, sparkling like a thousand tiny stars.

“T…” you began, your voice catching in your throat as you tried to tell him it was too much, that he didn’t have to do this. But Trent was already shaking his head, cutting you off before you could even start. 

“Nah, stop, baby. I told you. I don’t want to hear it.” His tone was gentle but unwavering. “I just need you to know—I’m locked in. I’m in. Completely.” His eyes searched yours, and the intensity of his gaze made your heart feel like it might burst. You wanted to say so much, to tell him everything you felt, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you nodded, a tearful smile breaking through as you slipped the bangle onto your wrist. The cool metal was a perfect fit, a constant reminder of everything he was saying, of everything he promised.

“I love it,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “Baby… you know, I…” You sighed and took a deep breath. You wanted to tell him so bad. You looked at him and your heart hurt. You loved him. You really did but the words wouldn’t come out. “I really want this.” you said. You finally got out some words though they weren’t the ones you wanted, the ones he deserved.

“I really want this,” he echoed without hesitation, his voice soft but sure, as if he’d been waiting to say it for so long. Slowly, you reached for him, your hands trembling as you cupped his face. And as Trent leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss filled with all the love and promises you could ever need, you knew this moment would stay with you forever.

Trent shifted in his seat at the kitchen island in your kitchen, drumming his fingers nervously on the surface. The air between you both was tense but charged with unspoken words, the kind that made the small space of the kitchen feel overwhelmingly intimate despite the island separating you. He wanted you closer, but for now, he settled for stealing glances at you, his smirk betraying the cool demeanor he was trying so hard to maintain. Jack, however, was completely oblivious to the undercurrent.

“That’s massive, bro,” he said, grinning about the Premier League Awards invite Trent had just thrown out. “You sure you want me to come? Big moment for you, lad.” He looked at Trent excitedly. 

“I mean… yeah, I’m asking mate. I’d love you to come with,” Trent replied casually, leaning back in his chair with a shrug. “It’s on the 17th…” He cooed and Jack’s brow furrowed. “Oh shit… is that when you’re flying out? What was it again? You’d be in Amsterdam?” The mention of Jack’s work trip to Amsterdam lit a fire in his eyes. His excitement briefly overshadowed his disappointment. 

“Damn, you’re right. I can’t get out of that either.” He tapped the countertop, considering. Trent feigned a disappointed sigh, though inside, he was quietly relieved. Actually, this was all a very carefully thought out plan.

 “Yeah, shame, man. Would’ve been a laugh.” Then, almost as an afterthought—though it was anything but—he looked at you. “Y/N, you wanna come along instead? Could be fun.” He delivered it with a casual smirk, his tone light, but his eyes betrayed him. They were focused, watching you carefully, measuring your reaction. Your heart skipped a beat. The idea of a night out with Trent, no hiding, no excuses, even if it was in a sea of strangers, had your pulse racing. But you knew better than to seem too eager. Shrugging, you leaned casually against the counter. 

“Eh…” You let your words trail off, pretending to consider. Jack scoffed, his expression incredulous. “What is it?” You asked, acting as if you hadn’t been clinging to every word that was said. 

“End of Season Prem Awards, Y/N.  What’s with the hesitation? Trenty’s asking you to an event, don’t be ungrateful about it.” He cooed, pinching between your neck and your shoulders as he moved past you. 

“I don’t know,” you teased, dragging it out just enough to keep Trent on edge. Jack rolled his eyes and threw up his hands. 

“Nah, you’re going. You’re not saying no to this. Go, seriously.” Jack doubled down. Trent had played his best friend and as cynical as it was, he wanted you over anything. You glanced at Trent, whose smirk had widened just enough to tell you he knew you were playing along. 

“Okay, yeah, I’ll go,” you said, a small smile breaking through as you tried to contain the excitement bubbling under your skin. As soon as the words left your mouth, something shifted in the room. Jack looked between the two of you, a flicker of confusion passing across his face. The realization that you and Trent would be attending a formal event together—alone—began to settle uncomfortably in his mind.

“Wait…” Jack started, narrowing his eyes at you. “That’s kind of… weird, innit?” His gaze shifting and then landing on Trent, his brow furrowed.  

“What’s weird?” you asked, your voice light and nonchalant.

“I don’t know. You two going together. Like, I get it—it’s fine. But…” Jack trailed off, his brows staying knitted. Trent leaned forward, his elbows on the counter, expertly diffusing the tension. 

“Mate, she’s a better date than you anyway. Less hassle, more fun. Trust me.” He laughed.  Jack let out a chuckle, shaking his head. 

“Whatever, man. Just don’t let her ruin your night.” He snipped with a teasing smirk to you. 

Trent shifted uncomfortably in his chair, Tyler’s words weighing heavily on him. The invitation to the awards open on the laptop in front of them, but he hadn’t been able to focus on it for the past ten minutes. He leaned back, running a hand over his face. Tyler had asked who Trent was bringing and since then… it had gone tense.  

“Just Jack’s sister,” he muttered bitterly, more to himself than Tyler, though the words hung awkwardly in the air. They tasted wrong. You were so much more than that, and the way he said it made him cringe. Tyler leaned forward, his eyebrows raised.

“Your best mate’s sister… who you’re fucking,” he repeated with pointed emphasis, his tone making it clear there was no skirting around the truth. Trent groaned and shook his head, letting his hands fall to his lap. 

“Nah, bro, you’re making it sound horrible. Like I’m sneaking around or something.” Tyler shot him a skeptical look. 

“But you are sneaking around, aren’t you?” he pressed. “Mate, if Jack finds out from someone else—and you know he will—it’s going to be so much worse. You’re dragging this out, and it’s only going to hurt him more.” Trent stared at the table, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Tyler wasn’t wrong. This whole situation had been gnawing at him for weeks, actualyl months. He thought about how easy it was to get caught up in the moments with you, how right it felt when he was with you, and how much harder it was to deal with the reality of keeping it all hidden.

“I know, bro,” he admitted quietly. His voice carried the weight of his guilt. “I know I need to tell him. I’m just—” 

“Scared?” Tyler offered bluntly. Trent shot him a sharp look, but there was no point denying it. 

“Yeah,” he admitted after a long pause. “I don’t want to lose Jack over this. But I can't lose her either.” Tyler’s expression softened, though his tone stayed firm. 

“You’ve got to stop living in limbo, mate. If she means as much to you as I think she does, it’s time to step up. Jack’s gonna be pissed, yeah, but he’ll get over it. You’re not just some random lad messing about with his sister.” Trent nodded, his fingers tapping against the edge of the table. 

“I’m in, Ty. I’m in so deep. I’m so serious about her. I even told her, I’m locked in.” He cooed sincerely. 

“Then act like it,” Tyler said simply. He glanced back at the screen, highlighting your name on the spreadsheet. “You want me to put ‘+1’ or her name? It’s your call.” Trent exhaled deeply, the weight of the decision sinking in. Finally, he leaned forward, typing your name into the guest list himself.

“She’s not just a +1,” he muttered, more to himself than Tyler. Tyler smiled knowingly. 

“Good. Then go make sure you’ve got a plan for Jack, mate. Because you’re running out of time.” He expectedly looked at Trent as if he needed to move this second. 

It was one of the last games of the season. Manchester United against Liverpool. Or Trent versus Josh essentially. You sat at your house watching with Layla. You could’ve gone, Jack and Noah had, but you gave some lame excuse. You said it was a stomach bug or something, which was a lie, except right now, your stomach did hurt. It hurt at the idea of Trent and Josh interacting, even if it was only on the pitch. Time ticked on and then suddenly the game on TV escalated rapidly, tension boiling over as the camera zoomed in on a confrontation. Trent and Josh were chest-to-chest, a referee stepping in but doing little to separate them. You could see the heated words exchanged between them. You could barely read their lips but that didn’t stop you from trying. Layla’s calm façade faltered as she sat up straighter, pulling her hand from yours to clutch a cushion tightly. 

“Oh, God, this is bad,” she muttered.

“Layla, what if they—” your voice cracked, the words catching in your throat as your pulse quickened.

“It’s fine. It’s fine. They won’t actually fight, its part of the game,” she reassured you, though her tone betrayed her nerves. But then Josh yanked Trent’s shirt, and Trent shoved him back harder than before, both of them glaring daggers at each other. Your stomach dropped. 

“Layla, I can’t—” you began, tears pricking your eyes as you watched the referee blow his whistle.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay!” Layla reached for your hand again, her own trembling now. “They’re just hyped up, you know how football is. Adrenaline and all that, yeah? Nothing’s gonna happen. Right?” She glanced nervously back at the screen. The crowd erupted. The commentators were buzzing about how uncharacteristic the scuffle was for Trent, emphasizing how composed he usually was on the field. “Not today, apparently,” Layla muttered under her breath, her attempt at humor falling flat. When Trent finally walked away, shaking his head, you exhaled sharply, realizing you’d been holding your breath. But your relief was short-lived.  Your heart raced as the match resumed. But your mind was no longer on the game—it was on Trent. You reached for your phone, your fingers trembling as you debated whether to text him or wait.

“What are you doing?” Layla asked, her voice low but laced with concern.

“I—I don’t know,” you stammered. “I just need to know he’s okay. What Josh said.” Layla sighed, pulling you into a side hug.

“He’ll be fine, babe. As much as it might be about you, it might not be. It’s part of the game. Let him come to you. You need to breathe, okay? Let’s just get through this match, and then we’ll figure out what to do.” You nodded hesitantly, leaning into her as the match continued. But your focus remained glued to Trent every time the camera panned to him, his expression hard, his jaw clenched. You knew this wasn’t just about football. And you had no idea how much worse things could get.

Down on the field, the tension was palpable. Josh smirked, leaning in just enough for Trent to hear, his voice dripping with venom. 

“What’s it like taking my sloppy seconds, bro?” Josh snipped shoving Trent trying to get him to break. And break he did. Trent’s jaw tightened, his hands balling into fists at his sides. He stared straight through Josh, his voice low and cutting. 

“She dipped because you could find the goal before you found a clit and you haven’t score since 2010.”  Trent snapped. Josh’s grin faltered for a moment, but then he shrugged it off, laughing bitterly. 

“Whatever, mate. You know she hit me up the other week, right? Guess your shit date night didn’t go so well, huh.” He smugly smiled. Trent saw red, shoving Josh hard, sending him stumbling backward. Trent couldn’t believe Josh knew about the date, Trent couldn’t believe you texted him. He was livid.

“Fuck off, bro,” he spat, his voice louder now, drawing the attention of the referee, who immediately ran over to break it up. The ref got between them, issuing warnings, but the fire in Trent’s eyes didn’t extinguish. He was fuming, but he let it go—for now.

The game stayed nil, nil into the half but the tensions were high, if not higher with every passing second making you more nervous. Your chin rested on your knees, your eyes flicking between the screen and the clock, before you gave in and buried your forehead against your legs, too anxious to watch the second half unfold. The commentators’ voices boomed through the speakers, heightening your sense of dread. Layla sat next to you silenced by the tension. The clock was running down, dipping into the 80th minute, and you couldn’t help but feel the nerves crawling through your skin. And then the game shifted. Trent surged down the right wing, perfectly timing his run to meet a cross. With one fluid motion, he sent the ball rocketing into the back of the net. Then suddenly, you heard it—Alexander-Arnold, goal in the 81st minute!  Your head snapped up, eyes wide with disbelief. You blinked, and there he was, Trent, sprinting towards the sideline, arms outstretched, his face lit up with a smile so wide it made your heart soar. The entire stadium erupted around him, but all you could focus on was the way that smile dropped.  He slowed his run as he pointed to the camera gesturing for it to come with a finger. He bent down, grabbed it with both hands, and pressed a deliberate, lingering kiss onto the lens. Trent wasn’t just celebrating the goal he was claiming you. Back at home, the living room erupted.

“OH MY GOD!” Layla screamed, jumping up from the couch.

“Oh my fucking God! What was that! Did he just… Oh my fucking God” you shrieked, clutching her arm as you both lost it. The commentators on TV were stunned. 

“What a moment from Trent Alexander-Arnold! A goal to remember, and a statement, it seems!”

“Fuck off!” She squealed. “Did he just—” Layla turned to you, wide-eyed, her mouth hanging open. 

“He did,” you said breathlessly, heart pounding as you stared at the screen. On the field, Trent jogged back to his team, his smirk undeniable, his eyes glinting with satisfaction. You couldn’t stop smiling, your chest full to bursting. It wasn’t just a goal. It was a message—and it was for you.

After the game, Jack and Noah caught up with Trent. The post-match energy was still buzzing, but both of them were visibly curious about the heated exchange on the field and the subsequent goal.

“Mate… what a goal….” Jack told him with a brotherly grab of his shoulder shaking Trent. 

“Thanks bro.” Trent said, shaking his head as he came down from the high of it all. 

“Wild celly I won’t lie… new girl’s got you thinking about her even during the 90… damn.” Noah laughed, dapping him up. Trent hummed as he stretched with an exhale trying not to think about the comment. “Yo, but also…what was all that about?” Noah asked, his brow furrowed. Trent leaned back against the wall, running a hand over his face. 

“What d’you mean?” he muttered, already knowing exactly what they meant.

“The beef with Josh,” Noah clarified. “I mean, the kid’s a fucking prick, we all know that but why were you going at him like that?” He asked earnestly.  Trent clenched his jaw, shaking his head sharply. 

“Fuck him, bro,” he snapped. “Lad’s got no respect.” Jack, more amused than concerned, chimed in. 

“Did he say something about Y/N?” he asked casually, not thinking much of it. At the mention of your name, Trent’s stomach tightened. He avoided Jack’s eyes, his voice clipped. 

“He just… I don’t know, man. He was talking shit. That’s all.” Noah exchanged a glance with Jack, sensing there was more to it, but they didn’t press further. 

“Well, whatever,” Noah shrugged. “You got the last word with that goal anyway. Loved the kiss, by the way—real humble,” he added with a smirk. Trent forced a chuckle, but his mind was spinning. The memory of Josh’s smug grin and his claim echoed in his head: You know she hit me up the other week? Was he lying? Or worse—was he telling the truth? Had you texted Josh? The thought made Trent’s chest burn with jealousy. He was fuming now, not just at Josh but at the idea of you reaching out to someone who clearly didn’t deserve your attention. He barely heard Jack or Noah’s conversation as they walked off. His fists clenched at his sides. He knew he had to talk to you, but how could he ask without revealing his own insecurities—or worse, giving away what he’d overheard?

The evening had settled into a calm rhythm before everything unraveled. You and Layla had been curled up on the couch, half-watching TV and half-chatting about nothing in particular post game. The dim lighting in the room was soft and comforting, the faint hum of the house settling around you. It had been quiet since your eruption after the goal and even more so that Jack and Noah were out, leaving you with the freedom to breathe, to just exist without the weight of secrets pressing on you. But that peace didn’t last long. The headlights pulling into the driveway were the first signal. You heard the crunch of gravel beneath tires, and you instinctively glanced out the window, expecting Jack and Noah. Sure enough, you saw their figures stepping out of the car, their laughter faintly audible even from inside. You relaxed slightly—until the second set of headlights came into view, illuminating the driveway behind them. Your stomach dropped.Layla noticed the change in your posture instantly. Her eyebrows furrowed as she turned to follow your gaze. When she saw the familiar car pulling in, her expression shifted from curiosity to quiet understanding. She placed a hand on your arm.

“It’s fine,” she said softly, though her voice wavered just enough to betray her own unease. “Jack and Noah are here. It’s not like anything can happen.” You wanted to believe her, but the guilt and fear bubbling inside you were too loud to ignore. Trent’s car came to a stop, and you saw his silhouette as he stepped out, his movements as measured and deliberate as always. The sight of him—a figure so familiar yet so out of place in this setting—sent a wave of emotions crashing over you. The front door opened, and Noah’s voice boomed into the room, full of excitement and energy. 

“You watch the match?!” he called out, his grin wide as he kicked off his shoes. Layla laughed, turning to greet him with her usual warmth. 

“We did. Good win,” she said lightly, glancing at you to see if you would add anything. But you couldn’t bring yourself to speak, your focus entirely on the sound of footsteps approaching behind Noah. Jack entered next, his face slightly flushed from the chill outside, and he immediately zeroed in on you. 

“Feeling any better?” he asked, his tone softer than usual. He wraped an arm around you in a loose hug. You hummed a vague response, trying to keep your expression neutral, though your heart was hammering in your chest. Jack let go of you with a playful shove. “We’re doing a fire out back. Trenty’s behind us if you’re interested in joining,” he said casually, grabbing a few things from the kitchen before heading toward the patio. The mention of Trent’s name made your breath hitch, and Layla squeezed your hand again, offering a reassuring smile. 

“Come on,” she said, trying to pull you toward the back door. But before you could move, the air in the room shifted, turning cold and charged all at once. Trent stepped inside. He scanned the room quickly, his expression carefully composed, but his eyes lingered on you for just a second too long. Layla greeted him first, her voice light but distant. She didn’t approach him, though, and her hesitance only made the tension thicker. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him directly, instead busying yourself with an offer to help Jack outside. But Trent’s presence was impossible to ignore, no matter how hard you tried. The tension in the room was almost palpable as Trent stepped inside. His tall frame filled the doorway, and though his expression was neutral, you could feel the weight of his gaze land on you. Your heart thudded in your chest as you grabbed a stack of plates, pretending to be entirely preoccupied with Jack’s vague instructions about bringing something for the firepit. Layla gave Trent a polite smile, her hand still loosely wrapped around yours, but she didn’t make a move toward him. She knew better. The room felt like it was holding its breath, and you could sense her hesitance—like one wrong move would make everything unravel.

“What a fucking game though,” Noah said, breaking the silence, his voice loud and boisterous. He clapped Trent on the back with a grin. “Got United rattled, mate.” Trent smirked faintly, nodding. 

“Yeah, good to get the three points,” he replied, his tone calm, though his eyes kept darting back to you. Jack turned to look at him with an amused expression. 

“About time you lot did them in,” he teased, grabbing himself a beer and heading toward the back door. “Come on. Let’s get a fire going.” Layla nudged you gently, her fingers squeezing yours in silent encouragement. 

“You’re good,” she whispered, low enough that only you could hear. But the words felt hollow as Trent lingered by the door, letting everyone else pass him by. He didn’t move. He stayed there, waiting, his presence impossible to ignore. His eyes bore into yours, silently begging for even a sliver of your attention. You glanced at him briefly, feeling the pull, but you couldn’t—not here, not now. The risk was too high. So you stepped out onto the patio, the cool night air hit you like a wave of relief, but it did little to calm the storm raging in your chest. Layla followed close behind, her concerned gaze flitting between you and the door, where Trent still stood just inside. It wasn’t going to be an easy night. You could feel it in your bones.

The lights from the backyard flickered against the walls of the dimly lit living room, casting warm shadows that did nothing to ease the ice-cold tension between you and Trent. You could still hear muffled laughter outside, the crackling fire, the clinking of bottles as Jack and Noah carried on with, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing inside, Layla beside them very aware that after you had tucked inside, Trent followed. But here, in the suffocating space of the house, it felt like the world had stopped spinning. Trent stood before you, shoulders squared, chest heaving as though he had just run the length of the pitch. He had cornered you, not letting your game of avoidance carry on. His face was taut, his usually soft eyes hardened with fury. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen him like this—if you ever had.

“Did you text him?” he asked, his voice low but razor-sharp, cutting through the silence like a knife. You blinked, his words barely registering as you scrambled to think of what to say, how to diffuse the situation. His intensity made your heart race, panic rising in your chest. 

“I…” Your voice came out in a whisper, trembling under his piercing gaze.

“Did you text him?” he demanded again, louder this time, his voice echoing in the room as he stepped closer. His towering frame loomed over you, and for the first time, you felt truly small in his presence.

“Yes,” you admitted, the word falling from your lips like a stone, heavy and cold. You watched as Trent’s jaw tightened, his hands clenching into fists at his sides as he shut his eyes tight trying to compose himself as rage washed over him. 

“Why?” he snapped, his tone laced with disbelief, his voice shaking. “Why the fuck would you do that, Y/N?” He asked you for the third time but this each time hurting more then the last. 

“I—” You tried to find the words, but they caught in your throat, your mind scrambling to explain something you could barely justify to yourself. “I thought you… I thought you were like him,” you finally blurted out, the words spilling out in a rush before you could stop them. Trent froze, his expression shifting from anger to something more devastating. He stepped back as if your words had physically struck him, his head shaking slowly. You weren’t sure why you resorted to texting Josh in the heat of seeing Trent’s instagram. Maybe it was past trauma. You imagined if he was around girls in a club like Jack had said, maybe he’d act how Josh used to, how you felt you would always be treated. 

“You thought I was like him?” he repeated, his voice quieter now but filled with incredulity, his brow furrowing in pain. “Are you mad? I would never be fucking like that prick. I honestly can’t believe you think I’d ever be similar to that fucking lad.” His voice cracked slightly, his breath hitching as he raked a hand over his hair. He was so beyond offended. “I’d never treat you like he did. I never have, I never would. That’s so fucked up Y/N.” You opened your mouth to respond, to explain but no words came out. The weight of his hurt, the betrayal in his voice, rendered you speechless. “You want him?” Trent asked suddenly, his voice rising again, anger flaring back to life. “Go fucking be with him then!” he shouted, his tone sharp enough to make you flinch.

“T,” you sobbed, the tears spilling over now, your chest heaving as you struggled to catch your breath. “It was just a text. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking—I didn’t mean it like that. Please.” Trent shook his head, stepping back as if to put more space between you. He was pacing now, his hand running over his face as he tried to process what you’d just said. Outside the fire burned, and as Layla, Jack, and Noah watched the wood go up in flames, you watched your relationship do just the same.   

“It’s not just a text to me!” he yelled, his voice cracking slightly.  “Do you know what it’s like to protect you from that piece of shit? Just for you to then go and pull this shit? To risk it all and give you everything I can—everything except for one fucking thing I asked for your patience with – one thing I’m fucking working on — and you go and text him?” You could hear the pain in his voice now, underneath the anger, and it broke you even further. “Why is it only my job to get this to work? How come you’re able to just sit back… you complain when we’re out, you complain when we’re in…” Trent grunted out of frustration. He just couldn’t fucking handle it anymore. 

 “T, I’m sorry,” you cried, your voice shaking as you stepped toward him, desperate to close the distance between you. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I didn’t think—”

“That’s the problem,” Trent interrupted harshly, his tone cutting you off. “You didn’t think. You’re so ready to fucking throw this all to the wind. You didn’t think about me, about us. About everything I’ve done to try to make this work, everything you’ve done. I told you at the dock… I told you.” You took a deep breath as his voice trembled. He was fighting back tears. “ I told you I was locked in. Did that not mean anything to you? Do you just not care?” His words hit you like a slap, and your knees felt weak under the weight of his anger. 

“I do.” You sobbed. “If meant everything.” Your tears bordering on hysterics. “I know I fucked up,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in between gasping breaths and tears as you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to hold yourself together.

“No,” Trent said firmly, his voice low but resolute. “This isn’t how you handle problems. You gotta fucking grow up. I’m here, I said I’m here and I’m doing what I can but it’s starting to feel like that will never be enough for you so what the fuck do you want, Y/N… ” The finality of his words left you breathless, your chest heaving as you tried to fight back the sobs threatening to break free. Trent stared at you for a moment longer, his jaw tense, his eyes flickering with emotions you couldn’t name. Then, without another word, he turned and left the room, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the house back outside.

“You.” You whimpered hating yourself more than you ever had.  The moment the door closed behind him, the dam broke. You sank to the floor, your knees giving out as sobs wracked your body. The cold metal of the bracelet he gave you burned against your skin. Every ounce of tension, fear, and guilt you’d been holding in came flooding out, leaving you a trembling mess on the cold, hard floor. The laughter and chatter from outside felt like a cruel mockery of your pain, the warmth of the bonfire and the camaraderie of friends so far removed from the storm raging inside you. You didn’t know how long you stayed there, your tears soaking into the sleeves of your sweater as you tried to catch your breath. All you knew was that Trent’s words kept echoing in your mind, louder and louder until they drowned out everything else: You gotta grow up. You gotta grow up.

When you finally pulled yourself together you just stayed inside, not wanting to ruin the fun. You sat motionless on the sofa, trying to will yourself into invisibility until eventually the others filtered into the house. The warmth of the fire lingered on their skin, their chatter carrying a carefree energy that contrasted sharply with the heaviness in your chest. Jack and Layla headed to the kitchen, their voices muffled as they rummaged for snacks. Noah sprawled out on the lounger with a dramatic sigh, tossing out demands for Jack to bring him a beer. You didn’t dare glance at Trent, though you could feel his presence like a magnetic pull. It wasn’t until you heard his voice—quiet, almost hesitant—that your heart shattered anew.

“Can I sit here?” He asked. The question hung in the air, carrying with it an undercurrent of tension that made it hard to breathe. You finally looked up at him, your bloodshot eyes meeting his. For a moment, he said nothing, his expression unreadable, though the tight line of his jaw hinted at the turmoil beneath. His gaze softened slightly as he took in your tear-streaked face, the way you seemed so small, so broken. You bit your lip to keep from crying again and nodded, unable to trust your voice. Trent slid into the spot beside you, his knee brushing yours in the cramped space. He didn’t sit at a polite distance; instead, he was so close you could feel the heat radiating off him. As if he couldn’t bear the silence between you, Trent leaned across you, his body covering yours, his arm brushing against yours as he reached for the blanket draped on the armrest. Your breath caught at the closeness, your body frozen in place. He straightened, settling back into his seat as he unfolded the blanket. Without a word, he tucked it around you, his hands lingering for a moment to ensure you were wrapped snugly. No matter what… he’d always take care of you. He promised you that. Even if it didn’t work, he promised. It was such a small, gentle gesture, but it unraveled you completely. You blinked rapidly, swallowing the lump in your throat as you struggled to keep your composure. How could he still be so tender with you after everything? 

Jack and Layla returned, their presence pulling you back to reality. Layla shot you a knowing look, her brow furrowed in concern as she took in the palpable tension. Jack, oblivious, grabbed the remote and began flipping through channels, Noah chiming in from the lounger with loud, exaggerated groans at every suggestion. Trent joined in the casual back-and-forth, his voice calm and even as though nothing had happened. You stayed silent, barely able to focus on their conversation. Instead, you stayed close to him, your body inching closer bit by bit until your arm brushed his. When he didn’t pull away, you dared to press your side against his, seeking comfort in his proximity. Your head found its way to his shoulder, resting there tentatively. Trent didn’t move or say a word, but you felt the way his body relaxed ever so slightly beneath your touch, his breath steady and warm. Jack finally settled on something to watch, the TV filling the room with light and sound, but you didn’t care what was on. All that mattered was that Trent hadn’t pushed you away—that he was still here, letting you lean on him despite everything.The fight wasn’t over—you both knew that—but for now, in this fragile moment, it felt like you could start to piece things back together. The room had fallen into a still, quiet rhythm. The flickering light from the TV cast soft shadows on the walls, Layla’s light snores punctuating the low hum of the NBA commentary. Jack and Noah were locked into the game, their occasional murmurs about plays blending seamlessly into the background. The fire outside had gone out, leaving behind only the faint smell of smoke drifting through the back door that was still creaked open because everyone claimed it wasn’t them and now were too lazy to go close it. You couldn’t help but feel it mirrored the state of your relationship—burnt down to embers, uncertain if it could be reignited.

“Gonna share?” Trent’s whisper was low and soft, cutting through your thoughts. You looked up at him, his expression unreadable save for the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He wasn’t meeting your eyes fully, instead keeping his gaze casual and tilted toward the TV, but you knew he was waiting for you. You didn’t say a word, simply moving the blanket to cover the both of you. It felt like a tentative truce, the weight of it heavy with unsaid words and fragile hope.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, barely audible. Your body leaned into his, seeking comfort but still hesitant. His arm shifted, draping over your shoulders with calculated ease, as if to keep appearances for the others in the room. Yet, beneath the guise of nonchalance, his fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns on your shoulder. “I made a mistake because I was scared,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “You know it’s only you. You know it’s always been you. You said it yourself…” Your words felt fragile as they hung between you, but you pressed on, desperate to make him understand. You tilted your head, brushing a featherlight kiss to his shoulder. The subtle gesture wasn’t missed—it made him exhale deeply, his posture softening as though a weight had lifted. His hand slid under the blanket, searching for yours. When his fingers finally found yours, he didn’t hesitate. His grip was firm, steady, and grounding, his thumb tracing slow circles against your knuckles. You didn’t care if they heard at this point, but you kept your words quiet just for him. “I’m sorry I haven’t shown you that,” you continued in a hushed tone, your voice cracking as tears welled in your eyes. “That I haven’t acted like I’ve only ever been yours… because I am, I have been.” A tear slipped down your cheek, the lump in your throat making it hard to breathe. You felt his hand tighten around yours at the words, a silent acknowledgment that he’d heard you. He kept his gaze on the TV, his expression stoic as his other hand flexed on your shoulder. The world outside seemed to fade, the quiet hum of the game and the steady rhythm of your breathing cocooning you both in a fragile bubble. Trent didn’t speak, but his actions said enough. He wasn’t ready to forgive fully, and you didn’t expect him to. But the way he held you, the way his hand lingered in yours, and the subtle relaxation of his body against you told you one thing: he wasn’t giving up. For now, that would have to be enough as you let your eyes flutter closed, your exhaustion from the day catching up to you.

The room was cloaked in the dim glow of the TV, the late-night commentary muffled beneath the gentle hum of the world outside. Jack stretched, standing up from his spot, his movements quiet but deliberate. Layla had already disappeared to your room, and Noah was sprawled across the couch, fast asleep, his soft snores filling the silence. Jack’s gaze drifted to the two of you, curled up on the loveseat. You and Trent, fast asleep, nestled so comfortably close it looked almost innocent. Your head rested on Trent’s shoulder, his arm draped lazily over you, the blanket drawn up to your chins like you’d been caught mid-conversation and drifted off. Something about the scene tugged at Jack’s instincts, his brows furrowing slightly. He narrowed his eyes, lingering just long enough to feel a flicker of suspicion. But nothing seemed overtly wrong—just two people who’d clearly fallen asleep watching the game. Still, something didn’t sit right. Jack shook his head, chalking it up to exhaustion. He turned away, heading toward his room without another word. What he didn’t see, hidden beneath the blanket, hidden right under his nose, was the way Trent’s hand was wrapped securely around yours, fingers intertwined. Even in sleep, his grip was steadfast, as if silently vowing to hold on no matter what. Jack left it alone for now. But the questions in his mind were far from gone.

And finally the night of the awards came and it couldn’t have come at a more awkward time. Things were tense to say the least between you and Trent after the fight and the Man United game. And in an even more awkward twist Jack no longer had a conflict so he was home.  The living room was loud, buzzing with laughter and friendly chaos. Jack, Noah, and the rest of the group had taken over, sprawled across the sofas and armchairs, trading jabs and jokes. The scent of leftover pizza mingled with the faint cologne of too many boys packed into one space. The TV was on, but no one was really watching it; their attention was squarely on you as you descended the stairs in a Retrofête nude sheer maxi dress. It was covered in all over sequins, with an opened back, and a feathered hem. You wanted Trent to like it but you felt shy in front of all of his friends and your brother with your figure on full display  You’d spent longer than you wanted to admit getting ready, smoothing every detail, unsure if you even had the right to look forward to the night. Things with Trent were still unresolved, the fight hanging in the air like a storm cloud. But you wanted tonight to be different. You needed it to be.

“Go on!  Someone’s looking lush for their date with Trentski!” Noah hollered from the couch, clapping loudly as the rest of the boys joined in, whistling and cheering like kids at a school assembly. 

“It’s not a date mate… I was supposed to go,” Jack muttered, shoving Noah on the sofa. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile that crept onto your face.

 “Alright, calm down,” you muttered, smoothing your dress and pretending their attention didn’t make you self-conscious. You felt like you were going to a year eight dance under the eyes of the boys. “Jack, T’s gonna be here soon, okay?” you reminded him, ignoring the comment. Your voice was steady, but your stomach churned with anticipation.

“Yeah, he texted. Don’t embarrass yourself tonight, yeah?” he teased with a smirk, dodging your halfhearted swat as you passed by him. The sound of tires crunching in the driveway made your heart skip. You straightened instinctively, glancing towards the door as your palms grew damp. The boys, oblivious to your inner turmoil, kept laughing and joking, but the sound faded as you focused on the moment about to unfold. And then the door opened. Trent stepped in, looking sharp in his tailored suit, his presence commanding without him even trying. The room seemed to still for just a second, the energy shifting. You caught his gaze, and despite everything, the corner of his mouth tugged up in that familiar, cocky smile.

•

Thank you for reading! Please like, comment, or message what you think of the chapter or of what's to come!

Next part - Chapter 14 xx

[hai7ani]

i know you may have been busy lately, more so considering you got a job and congratulations on that!!

but i reallyyy need to ask for a fluff rindou one crying bc of how utterly gorgeous his wife looked on their wedding day and getting all shy around her after the wedding for days because he’s got a like crush on his own wife

you don’t HAVEEEE TOOO, it’s on you to do it:33and if you’ll do it then take your time bbg, no worries here :b

Rindou hasn't always been a very vocal person.

He's reserved and he doesn't speak a lot unless he's pissed or he just has to answer a question directed at him. It's not that he's selective when it comes to talking 一 he just doesn't know what to say and what even is there to say. But he speaks smoothly to you when he calls you at work in the middle of the day, he speaks clear with his family to plan for cake and coffee, he speaks mumbling to your cat sometimes when she's magically made her way onto his shoulder and sitting there while watching him prep her meal like a curious little bird.

He's weird in a way that you find endearing all the time. He likes collecting Legos that he proudly displays in one little corner of the house even though he's almost 35 and he enjoys giving unsolicited commentary on how stupid and blinded by love the main lead is (who happens to be your favourite) on the sappy romcoms you like watching on Friday nights after work just to see your nostrils flare before chewing his ear off on why the main lead just did what they did. He eats his food like he's just trying to get it over with and he lets hamburger sauce drip all over the table, yet he always wipes your mouth when he sees steak sauce leaking out the corner of your mouth.

Lately his new weird habit is following you around the house. He likes to stand behind you quietly and you'd knock into his chest or step on his toes after giving you a shock. It pisses you off because you don't want to accidentally hurt him if you were in the kitchen handling hot water or is holding something sharp. But he kisses your frown away and continues doing it until you slowly get used to him showing up behind you all of a sudden.

He's also been really annoying about his appearance lately. He keeps getting you to dye his hair black again and again (like, every end of the week when the black fades because he keeps washing his hair everyday) over the sink because his greys are coming out and he makes you trim his hair too while you're at it. He's been spending a lot of time shopping for cologne and browsing through Zara Men because you mentioned once the Jo Malone sample he sprayed on a few weeks ago when he ran out of other perfumes smelled really nice on him and wow, this K-Pop idol's fashion sense is so neat.

Today the ring on your finger feels a little bit heavier than usual and you phone him sobbing to come back as soon as he can. He comes home with fried chicken and heat pads and he drops it all on the ground when he finds you cocooned in your blanket on the ground watching Corpse Bride. "I feel so bad for Emily." You're crying to him the minute he takes off his shoes and he sighs in exasperation when you keep replaying the same scene where Victor was yelling at Emily. "Fucking Victor again." He joins you in your cocoon shortly after showering really quickly and switches the movie to The Notebook instead because he knows you still haven't cried enough today. The fried chicken is soggy and your tears won't stop and he's nothing but patient and sweet when he pats on your back and letting you wet his shirt with what even you can recognise as hearts in his eyes.

"I just missed you a lot today." You blow your nose, noisy and hiccuping into your handkerchief. "Me too." It's really soft when it's murmured into your neck and it's almost as if he is the one who'd phoned for you to cone home and hug with him.

"You see me everyday." You jab a finger into his chest and he flinches. "What? I can't miss you but you can?"

"You can, yes." The scene pops up in your head again and you laugh.

"What's so funny?"

"Remember? You were crying just like me on our wedding一"

"Oh, shut up. That was months ago一 ages ago."

"Me shut up? Look at you, you're still acting like we got married yesterday. Look at how tight you're hugging me. You're like 29 again at our first date following me around the DVD store. What was it again? You liked my perfume? I asked if you liked me too and you got so red. And, as if you don't always look at me now like you wanna一"

You see YouTube appearing on screen and he's typing in Thai advertisements一

"Stop!" You try snatching the remote away from his hand but he's quicker and a video is already playing.

"You're less annoying when you cry."

Isn't it supposed to be the other way around?

Oh, well. Your husband's weird like that anyway. And you match him just fine.

Wrote something a little different than what was asked but here it isssssss he's more of a loser husband than a shy husband here ☹️☹️☹️ i love him so much

[astr-venus]

｡⁠☆ Who Is This Diva✦

｡⁠☆Content: Shouta Aizawa BF headcanons

｡⁠☆Cw: swearing, pregnancy mention, threesome mention (still sfw tho !), no use of y/n

✦ Not the sweetest boyfriend or husband, at least not in most people's opinion. He's quiet, blunt, a bit of a tease as well, and all of these things kinda make him look like an asshole. These qualities don't change when you're together either, you just get really good at reading Shouta.

✦ Incredibly observant and somehow remembers everything you ever tell him. You could slightly hint at wanting to go to some fancy ass restaurant, and 6 months later when your anniversary rolls around all of a sudden he's taking you there, hell you don't even remember mentioning it.

✦ The man is blunt, but still a little shy, especially with overly lovely PDA. He can do handholding, hugs, pecks on the lips, but anything more than that and he'll push your face away like he's annoyed. He knows damn well he's flustered and embarrassed, but he absolutely refuses to let you see that. Heaven forbid you see your big strong man weak for you.

"What the hell is wrong with you, we're at the school... No you can wait till we get home you aren't dying, stop being dramatic.... My face is NOT red and I'm not into it either, get away from me. You're such a pervert."

✦ A little insecure. He doesn't feel good enough for you. If you left him or fell out of love with him he wouldn't beg for you back, but I can't say he would just accept it either. He'd probably just... Grieve. He would want you back so bad, but would hate to make you stay when he fully believes there's way way better than him out there.

✦ shit texter. Terrible texter. Horrendous texter even. He's so dry and he deplores talking on the phone, half the time he just leaves you on read. He just don't even try to reply.

✦ a cuddle bug, but only behind closed doors. As soon as the lock on your front door clicks his arms are wrapped around you and his head is on your shoulders. He trails around the house behind you like a lost puppy (and if you don't let him in the shower with you ? Oh Lord you'll never hear the end of it)

"I don't care about whatever the hell an everything shower is. There's no reason why you won't let me in, I've literally been inside you, I don't care."

✦ possessive. Wants to know where you are and what you're doing at all times. Slightly controlling, but will back off if he's over stepped.

✦ scruffy but hygienic. Showers at least once every two days, but most of the time twice a day because of teaching and patrol. He buys antibacterial everything in a generic scent, but if you have preferences for anything he doesn't mind changing it as long as he still gets clean

✦ a worrywart. If you stub your toe and don't tell him he's pissed. An injury is an injury no matter how minor. He just wants to make sure he's taking care of you. If you do the same and try to help him with any cuts or bruises from patrol he'll pretend to get fed up, but in reality you make him feel so incredibly warm inside he feels like he might burn to death

✦ secure in his masculinity. If you're a fashion guru (or if you're Eri) he couldn't care less if you picked his outfit. You can put him in strawberry perfume and a skirt and all he would ask is that you make the outfit school appropriate

✦ speaking of Eri, that's his daughter, straight up. He loves that little girl like he birthed her himself, and the minute you two start bonding is the minute he figures out what heaven looks like.

✦ Shouta never really wanted kids, not to say he doesn't love teaching the brats at his school, but that really was enough time spent with children for the day. Until Eri came, and then when you came. I think he'd love to give Eri a little sibling, though I don't think he wants more than 3 kids. 4 at most.

✦ don't try to watch movies with him, don't bring him to the theater either, he's just gonna fall asleep as soon as the title screen comes up. He will beg and moan to watch some shitty movie with you and fall asleep before the main character even has their first line

"Hmm, what? No I wasn't sleeping... My eyes were closed because I was training my spacial awareness, I promise I'm still watching the movie... When have I ever lied to you ?"

✦ doesn't have a big presence and has a staring problem, people who don't know you're together think he's a stalker. Between his overall rough looking appearance and his hard focus on you he looks like a serial killer, there's a good chance you won't have to worry about a lot of other women bc of this tho (not that he would ever cheat, he'd fall upon his own sword first), so good for you !

✦ jumpscares you forever. He claims he isn't doing it on purpose, but for how often it happens it's gotta be malicious !! It's gotta be !! You turn around in the kitchen, when the hell did Shouta get there ? You're at the store, when did Shouta follow you out the door ? You wake up, good lord Shouta why are you staring at me like that ? There is no escape from how often he scares you either.

✦ starts referring to you as his wife before you're married, but he only calls you wife behind you're back before you're engaged. Since I don't see Shouta as the type to really yearn for marriage, I think if you don't have a want for it either he's calling you his wife a year into the relationship

"Yeah, my wife is at home with my daughter. They hate publicity as much as I do so I left them at home.... We've been together for a year, but known each other much longer. I'm incredibly lucky to have her."

✦ a very soft man. To outsiders he's cold and prickly but he's actually the sweetest blueberry in the basket, he's like a huge cat. All of his touches are gentle, he would never forgive himself if he hurt you, he'd spend his whole life atoning for something like that.

✦ I would like to end this post by saying if you ever convince him to do a threesome it would be with Hizashi. That is all.

Also, what character would YOU like to see next ? Thinking Mina or... Maybe I'll work on my Hawks characterization... Decisions decisions....

I kinda wanna make another post like this but it's erasermic + y/n. My fav polycule besides for tdbkdk if I'm honest. Should I do a Mic intro and then the poly post or just skip straight to the poly post ?

Slow posting as well 💔💔 made this blog and immediately got hit with the Too Busy To Post Beam, but I stare at it longingly before I go to bed every night

｡⁠☆Requests open

[ickytreats]

Black Friday? No. Free use little girl for the day.

My poor cunnie would be a wreck after.

Being woken up in the middle of the night by Little Bro fucking me. He couldn't even wait till morning as he needily pound my cunnie. He can never wait and is more spoiled than me. Even after he cums he keeps fucking me like a bunny in heat.

Once I wake up in the morning, I'm pulled into a kiss by Big Sis telling me good morning. Pinned to the wall she holds a tight grip on my neck while kissing me. Pushing me to my knees and making me give her head, I'm not allowed to get up and start my day until she cums making me gag on her cock as I swallow it all.

Next is Big Brother, he calls me down into his old room and I'm roughly pinned to the floor. He was always so mean when this day came. Like he's been pent up all year, spanking my bottom as he fucks me. Making sure to leave all the marks and bruises he can. Even making me cry a little, doesn't even take me to the bed. All the family enjoys this day but Big Bro makes sure to show it.

Lying in the living room tired from Big Bro. Mom makes her way over and says nothing as she grabs the remote. I go to argue but she's lifting her dress and sitting on my face, telling me she just needs a break. Making me spend the whole movie between her legs. My face was covered in cum by the end as she gets up with shaky legs and a content smile.

Each of them having another turn before bedtime. I'm in my room finally relaxing when Dad comes in quietly finally home from work. Cooing at me being able to tell I’m tired from the day but he wants his turn. Spreads my legs and kisses my poor sensitive cunnie taking a few licks before positioning himself. I’m whining but he shushes me, kissing me as he fucks me. Once he's done he pulls away telling me how I was such a good girl for him.

There were still 2 hours on the clock, I think I was done but Dad didn't move. My door opens again and it's the family walking in and surrounding us. I wasn't done, they weren't finished. Dad tells me that I need to keep being a good girl as his thrusts start up again. Big Sis comes over to sit on my face making me once again choke on her cock. As Mom gets ready to Eiffel Tower Big and Little Bro.

We only Did it once a year but they loved it. Maybe they could convince me to do it for other holidays when I visit…

[studiogrimm810]

A Song of Glass

pairings/characters: sam winchester x gn!you, dean is also there

summary: the impala gets t-boned by a drunk driver

warnings: blood/blood loss, car crash, head trauma, slightly graphic depictions of injuries sustained in said crash, loss of consciousness

word count: 2,345

A/N: any and all feedback is appreciated ^.^

———————

You toned out whatever Sam and Dean were arguing about, it was something minute and brotherly that was more annoying than angering. You leaned your head back into the firm leather headrests of the backseat of the impala. it was late, you're pretty sure the boys are just tired and easily irksome so you chuckled to yourself at certain comebacks they flew at each other.

“Dean, come on, it’s not a big deal,” Sam sighed, running a hand down his face.

“It is, Sam! Just because we share a lot of things does not give you the right to finish off Sandy's Apple Pie!” Dean thunders, his right hand on the steering wheel and his left arm resting outside of the window, drumming his fingers against the outside of Baby anxiously.

“We can just drive back and get more,” Sam argues, trying to hold back a laugh at how worked up Dean got about simple things like this.

“It's a two day drive and you know we never make it up to Maine,” Dean glares over at his brother, still gripping the steering wheel. Sam just scoffed and looked out the window, which pissed Dean off more due to Sam's apparent lack of caring.

You chuckle to yourself, stealing glances between you and Sam. You didn’t want to get him in more trouble so you just looked back out the window and watched the moon in the sky follow the car.

The sound of shattering glass is an odd sound, something that most people know how to identify easily. it’s often you hear glass shatter in a TV show or movie and even sometimes in a kitchen. Something about that glass, though, is that it’s muted, small and quick, but now you hear the instant crackle that veins through the Impalas windows and something about hearing it in person right next to your eardrums makes you recoil.

Shards of glass spray past your face, biting at your cheeks. The window on the side of the Impala shatters first and the windshield follows suit like a wave.

The pitch of the glass cuts through the car like a bell.

Or maybe that was just your ears ringing.

You don’t have time to discern either or because the crunch metal rings along with the staunch melody of glass singing through the air.

You gasp, a sharp intake of breath that pulls in a few small shards that now make your mouth taste of iron, and your body is punched by the hood of some shitty pickup with unnecessarily bright lights that make your eyes sting. Your body is punted to the other end of the back seat and you land on your shoulder with a loud crack, waiting for the feeling to erupt. However, the horn of the truck starts blaring and now your ears are really feeling the effects of the awful sounds around you.

Your ears are ringing, your vision is lagged, your face stings, you taste metal and- Oh God, your shoulder really hurts now.

You cry out, it’s all you can do because the collided vehicles are skidding across the intersection. burnt rubber and gas fill your nostrils and it makes you nauseous. You can see movement in the front seat - the boys being jostled by the truck as well - but you can barely hold onto a point of focus so you just see shadows and glimpses.

Finally, the cars screech to a halt and Baby sounds rough. Her engine is groaning and making some sputtering sound that Dean could kill the other driver alone for causing if he was awake. The pickup's horn is still blaring, probably signaling that the driver is also unconscious. You can hear someone moving around in the front but you can make no effort to get up.

Sam is shaking Dean, trying to get him to wake back up but a drip of blood down his temple makes Sam sick. He quickly yanks out his phone and calls for an ambulance, making the conversation quick as he moves to lean over the back seat to reach you.

Being the person who usually rides in the back seat, you’ve gotten used to your own setup. Usually, you have a blanket and some sort of entertainment and you often take your shoes off. Point is, you got very comfortable- so comfortable that you often didn’t wear a seatbelt due to the restriction of movement and Sam always bothered you about it but he often gave up. He just might regret that choice for the rest of his life.

Sam looks back to see your body laying in the backseat, almost like you were sleeping. your dislocated shoulder was the one you were laying on- but he didn’t know of  the injury. Sam just saw the blood running from the multiple cuts in your face and a few shards of glass stuck in your skin. He called out your name next, begging for one of you to wake up.

You groan, your head throbbing and the truck's horn is still blaring, making you want to scream.

Sam is still talking, talking about something you can’t hear because of that fucking horn slicing through your ears. it reminds you of the sharp, nasty sound of glass shattering just won’t stop. That's all you start to hear, glass. The glass. That’s it.

That’s all you feel. The glass slicing your skin and raining over you like beads of acid.

That's all you see. Glistening specks like sparkles that reflect the God-awful LEDs of the pick up, littered around the Impala.

That's all you hear. Piercing car horns and Sam's distraught calls for you or his brother. Then, the distant sirens of the ambulance that Sam called.

Your senses start to fade back in, the pain in your shoulder being the focal-point, but when you try to lift your head up they fade back out until you’re dizzy again and your ears are ringing.

“Hey- hey, can you hear me?” Sam is calling for you from the front seat. When he sees that you’re (somewhat) conscious he shoves himself out of the car and around to open the back door to get a better look at you. “Roll over but just- be careful,” he places his hands on your shoulders to adjust you on your back but your cry of pain makes him stop immediately. “What? What is it, honey?” He asks and you look up at him to see three of him, his puppy-dog eyes shimmering like the glass around them and his face showing the tracks of the shards. He was obviously heavily impacted by the crash, but he seemed to have enough adrenaline to push past his non-life threatening injuries.

“Sh-“ you start to speak, “shoulder- my sh-“ you hope he could hear you well enough, talking felt like it took all the oxygen in your lungs plus some extra muscle.

“Okay,” he says with a few nods, his hands ready to aid but his mind blank on what exactly to do.

The horn finally goes silent and you worry that maybe you’ve gone deaf or maybe you’re unconscious, but the sound of the truck door squeaking otherwise signals that the driver is now awake.

“Oh shit- fuck, man,” a gruff voice slurs out, “I- I didn’t see ya, honest!” The man stumbles around to Sam crouched at the back of the Impala. “Damn…” he sways- drunk. He’s fucking drunk.

Sam would see red if he could afford to, but he chooses to try and ignore the bubbling anger and instead focus on you. You both could now hear sirens and a small wave of relief washed over sam.

“Okay, honey. If your shoulder is hurt then I need to turn you over and off it, okay?” Sam says, his tone regrettable but knowing he needs to do this. You groan at the thought but let Sam do what he needs to. You give him a small nod as a go-ahead. Sam slips one of his hands along your back to avoid your hurt shoulder and one on your good shoulder to position you gently and slowly on your back. You whimper pathetically as he maneuvers you and you’d be embarrassed if you cared at all. He mumbles soft reassurances followed by your name to coax you back to full awareness, but the blood loss is getting to be too much.

Now on your back, Sam gets a good look at your shoulder that is grossly misshapen and he immediately can tell that it's dislocated. he winced at the injury before his face fell completely at the deep patch of blood staining your shirt. He felt like he was going to be sick.

His brother was completely unconscious, the person he loved was bleeding out in front of him and this drunk idiot behind him wouldn’t stop blabbering about nonsense.

The sirens approach closer, the lights flashing around them, a whirlpool of red and white and bouncing off of the crystals of glass scattered around them.

Sam can’t help the sob that escapes him, trembling through his body as his hand caresses your cheek. He's looking down at you, and the way you're laid out in the backseat would make a good spider-man kiss moment, but you keep that thought to yourself. 

Sam's face starts to blur and the edges of your vision start to cone, narrowing your sight. You look up at him for as long as you can but your body soon goes limp from exhaustion and pain.

———

A steady ping of a machine annoys you awake, the constant beep becoming tedious. Before you can even open your eyes though, you feel an aching ring of pain wrapped around your skull and a dull throbbing in your stomach and shoulder. You whimper softly at the feeling, trying to pry your eyes open.

You then hear rustling nearby and feel a warm hand envelop your own.

“Can you hear me?” The voice is muffled, saying quite a few things but you can only make that out.

You finally get your eyes pried open and you look up at the same blurry face you had just closed your eyes on, Sam.

“Hey, there you are,” he smiles, his voice low and soothing. it sounds more like he’s speaking for himself than for her to hear him. He sounds so relieved but so hurt at the same time.

“How’re you feeling, honey?” He asks, almost like a hum, all low and full of love, and it makes your stomach flutter.

You open your mouth to speak but your throat is dry and scratchy, you end up coughing instead.

“Here, hold on,” Sam stands and walks over to grab a cup of water and bring it back to you to drink. You get to see the full extent of his injuries and your heart squeezes with worry. He has a cast on his right wrist and a set of stitches on his cheek. The t-shirt he’s wearing has exposed thick gauze wrapped around his bicep.

You take a few sips and the first thing you can mutter out is “are you okay?” which makes sam chuckle lightly. He reached back for your hand before speaking again.

“Don’t you worry about me, baby, I'm fine,” he reassures, but you can’t help it.

“No,” you shake your head softly, “Sam, you’re hurt.”

“But I'm standing, you on the other hand,” he tilts his head softly to the hospital bed you’re in. You look down at yourself to see sling on your hurt shoulder. Then, you slowly lift up your blanket to look at the patch of bandages on your abdomen. “You had a piece of glass deep in your stomach, you had surgery,” he explains, the previous lighthearted humor fallen from his face and melted into worry and exhaustion. “You'll be okay,” he nods softly, “but you gave me one hell of a scare.” He's trying to be nonchalant again but he fails miserably and you can tell the toll this whole ordeal has had on him.

“How long was it?” you ask, your voice still rough but getting stronger.

“3 days,” he says, rubbing your hand softly. You take in the information, letting it all sink in for a moment. a thought pushes all other thoughts aside.

“Dean,” you blurt out, unable to form a sentence quick enough. Sam's face softens to a hint of relief for a moment.

“He's okay,” he nods quickly, “he’s back at the motel. He had a concussion and a few broken ribs but he’s fine. We were both discharged the day after the crash,” he explains, looking down at your intertwined fingers, guilt pooling in his stomach. “You got it pretty rough, all ‘cause of that damn seatbelt that I didn’t-“ he stops himself, his voice cracking.

Your shoulders slump slightly, heartbroken that he’s found a way to blame himself. “Sam, no, don’t do that,” you shake your head softly, rubbing his knuckles. “I should've been wearing it, it’s not your fault,” you assure.

“But I-“

“No, sam. I won't let you feel guilty over this. I'm the one who should’ve been wearing it and I've learned my lesson,” you try to joke, but Sam doesn’t look up at you.

“I could've lost you,” he murmurs, keeping his voice quiet because he’s afraid for his words to shake or crack.

“But you didn’t,” you say, squeezing his hand. “I'll be okay and I'll make sure to wear my seatbelt from now on,” you smile softly, trying to get him to lighten up a bit, hating that he’s feeling guilty.

He stays by your side all day, talking with you and keeping you company. you can tell that he still feels guilty but you continue to assure him that you’re already feeling better. It takes a few days before you’re released from the hospital and Sam is insistent on staying with you the whole time. His consistent love and support powering you through your recovery.

———————

>pictures are not my own, i have the originals linked here (pinterest)

[httpvomitello]

Hello! Can I request TMNT 2012 with Fem! Reader as Mitsuri Kanroji from Demon Slayer? Like how they are going to react to her unusual hair color, strength, appetite and her... Unusual taste of clothes?

If it wouldn't be too much can you also write how they are giving her the high socks like Obanai did with Mitsuri?

I am sorry if this request sound rude and if it's to much for you, you are free to ignore my request!!!! Have a good day/night

Hello, hello! No need to apologize for this request that ended up making me very happy to write. However, I didn't want to put all four in one part, so I decided to do it separately. And I have to admit, it's been a while since I've seen anything from Demon Slayer, but I hope you like it! ♡♡♡♡

Pretty Girls Fight Like This! *⁠.⁠✧

It was late one evening when Leonardo first met you, and needless to say, your presence caught him off guard.

You had come into their lives through April, who insisted that you’d be an asset to their team. At first, Leo didn’t understand what she meant. Then, he saw you take down a handful of Kraang droids with strength that rivaled Raph’s, all while laughing like it was a game.

You were... different. Not just because of your insane strength, but also because of your look. Your long hair was streaked with vibrant shades that seemed almost unnatural, your appetite could rival Mikey’s, and your outfit choices? Let’s just say they weren’t exactly “ninja stealth material.”

Leo first noticed your unusual strength during a sparring match in the lair. He had approached the fight like any other, underestimating you just slightly—not in a mean way, but because he wasn’t used to seeing someone as strong as Raph who didn’t have a temper to match.

But then you disarmed him with a single flick of your wrist and sent him sprawling to the ground.

“Oops! Sorry, Leo!” you said, crouching down to help him up, your cheerful smile shining brightly.

Leo stared up at you, dumbfounded. “How... how did you do that?”

You shrugged. “I guess I’ve always been strong. My family says it’s a blessing or something.”

From that moment on, Leo couldn’t help but be fascinated by you.

Then there was your appetite.

It was movie night, and Mikey had insisted on ordering enough pizza for an army. You happily joined in, grabbing slice after slice, keeping pace with Mikey without breaking a sweat.

Raph raised an eyebrow as you polished off your fourth slice. “You sure you’re not part turtle? 'Cause you’re puttin’ Mikey to shame.”

You laughed, wiping your mouth with a napkin. “I just love food! Besides, Mikey’s still the champ. I’m just warming up.”

Leo watched you with a small smile, amused by how effortlessly you fit in with his brothers.

What really threw Leo off, though, was your taste in clothes.

You often wore vibrant, eye-catching outfits that seemed more suited for a festival than sneaking around the shadows of New York. Today’s choice was no exception: a bright, pastel-colored ensemble that clashed hilariously with the lair’s dim lighting.

“Isn’t that outfit a little... Too much?” Leo asked, his tone carefully neutral.

You tilted your head, your hair falling over your shoulder like a ribbon. “I guess so,” you admitted, “but I like feeling cute, even when I’m fighting bad guys. It makes me happy!”

Leo didn’t know what to say to that, so he just nodded, silently wondering how someone could be so unapologetically themselves.

It wasn’t long before Leo found himself going out of his way to do small things for you.

Like when he noticed you always tugging at your socks during training because they kept slipping. At first, he didn’t think much of it, but then he overheard you complaining about it to April one day.

“They’re always falling down! It’s so annoying,” you said, huffing. “But I can’t find any that stay up!”

The next time Leo went topside, he kept an eye out for anything that might help. Eventually, he found a pair of long, durable socks in a shop window. They reminded him of something a samurai might wear—simple but sturdy—and he couldn’t help but think of you.

When he handed them to you a few days later, you were surprised, to say the least.

“Socks?” you said, holding them up.

“They’re supposed to stay up during activity,” Leo explained, rubbing the back of his neck. “I noticed yours kept slipping, so... I thought you might like these.”

Your eyes lit up, and you tackled him in a hug before he could react. “Leo, you’re the best!”

He froze for a moment, then slowly patted your back, his face heating up. “It’s... nothing. Really.”

But to you, it wasn’t nothing. It was thoughtful, and it made your feelings for him grow even more.

As time went on, Leo found himself admiring all the little things that made you... Well, you.

Your strength, your appetite, your eccentric clothes—all of it was part of the charm that made you stand out. And the more he got to know you, the more he realized that you weren’t just a colorful whirlwind in his life—you were a light he didn’t know he needed.

And for you, Leo’s quiet acts of kindness only made you fall for him harder. Whether it was a pair of socks or a word of encouragement during training, he always seemed to know just what you needed.

It wasn’t long before the two of you became inseparable, your bond growing stronger with each passing day. And as Leo watched you laugh with his brothers, bright and unapologetically yourself, he couldn’t help but feel grateful to have you by his side.

[fictionadventurer]

Thoughts about The Wonderful Wizard of Oz

Wow, is Kansas bleak. Even the Pevensie kids in actual WWII England didn't feel this depressing. Frankly, not sure why Dorothy wanted to go back.

Dorothy feels surprisingly young. Even Alice seemed to have more agency in her story. Dorothy is mostly under the care of various authority figures. The cover illustration has me picturing her as maybe 5 or 6, which is kind of fascinating.

The dynamic between Dorothy and the Scarcrow, Tin Man and Lion was so sweet. They're like uncles taking care of her. Really nice angle for a portal fantasy.

This is kind of a case where the movie seems to have mostly made changes that tighten up the story. Bringing in the Wicked Witch of the West as a threat earlier, for instance, or cutting the mostly pointless little quest at the end.

However, Dorothy controlling the flying monkeys was amazing and should have been kept (maybe it was? in some form? it's a long long time since I saw the movie).

I can absolutely see why Disney thought it was a good idea to do an Oz-focused prequel. "Nebraska carnie comes to a fantasy world and has to pretend to have magical powers so the actual magical beings won't smite him into oblivion" is the single best portal fantasy story I have heard in my life. Stunning. Hilarious. Amazing. I need fifteen movies about that.

(Also, that makes me even less interested in Wicked. How do you look at that book and think the most interesting story is "what if the Wicked Witch was actually good and Oz was an oppressive dictator?")

Adored how he conned his way into granting the wishes. Less of a fan of how he sent AN ACTUAL CHILD to fight THE BEING SO EVIL AND POWERFUL HE'S BEEN RUNNING AN ELABORATE CON FOR DECADES SO SHE'LL THINK HE'S MAGICAL AND LEAVE HIM ALONE. Sorry, Dorothy, he's not a good wizard or a good man. Still my favorite character though.

Loved how Baum totally committed to the physical reality of the Scarecrow being a Scarecrow. He's light. He's soft. He can be unstuffed and restuffed, etc.

He seems very interested in giving life to inanimate objects. What talking animals are to Narnia, inanimate objects are to Oz.

In general, loved the imagination on display. Not too impressed with the writing style. I was going to content myself with reading the first one to fill in the gap in my classic children's lit experience. But I still find myself considering reading at least a book or two more.

[lily-onher-grave]

More wicked movie thoughts because I’m obsessed and insatiable

Kiamo Ko looks sick af and I can’t wait to see more of it in part two

Is that Elphaba and fiyero’s horse riding out? It’s not Fiyero because he’s walking with Dorothy so whoooo is it and will we find out more in part 2

Ariana Grandd-Butera’s sad. little. face.

I’m so serious it’s so fucking heartbreaking and she does such a good job. Like what do you MEAN she looks seconds away from crying after the flashback until the end of the song. What do you MEAN she sings “she died alone” directly to elphaba’s effigy all while looking like she’s about to break down (Glinda being able to hit operatic notes while holding back tears. Glinda being able to smile even when she’s losing everything and her entire life is falling apart)

((I’m not gonna make it through Ariana singing thank goodness. I have one year to live because I will be DECEASED by the end of her solo))

Elphaba loves their prank war so much

I said it before but Elphaba really is just so fond of Glinda so immediately and I’m soft about it. This girl has never been given this much attention! It doesn’t matter that it’s negative attention she is eating it up!!

We don’t talk enough about how Glinda loses everything she knows and loves in one day. Like she loses Elphaba yes, but also she’s losing Fiyero, she leaves shiz and everyone she knows behind, she’s left alone in a strange city with people who just condemned her best friend, does she ever even see her parents again?? I’m emotional about her brb I’m gonna go write fic

Shout out to the girl in front of me who dropped her phone and said “you’re a queen” when I picked it up for her, way to stick to a theme way to be on brand in the theater, we love women supporting women lmao

I went with fanily and one of them asked me “so where are the parts where you cried?” And my dad was like “let me guess. The dance scene and Defying gravity.” I mean yeah true but you don’t gotta read me to filth like that

Also we were talking about the dance scene and Glinda wiping away elphie’s tears and my dad was like “how long do you think it’s been since someone touched Elphaba with kindness” and if you ever wondered where my angst comes from it’s apparently genetic jfc

Sunset defying gravity still has me in a chokehold.

(So does Ariana’s last “I hope you’re happy” and Glinda being so vulnerable in front of morrible and the lights breaking and the emerald city going dark and AHHHHH)

[karinamay]

Holiday shout outs - KarinaMay's fic recs of 2024

The year is almost out, and with the holidays coming up I hope we can all find some time to cozy up with a hot drink and a good fic. In case you're unsure what to read next, I've compiled a list of my absolute favourites of the year. (Sorted by fandom for your convenience.)

Baldur's Gate 3

Magistrate's Advocate by @cinnamontails-ff

An Astarion/female OC fic that absolutely blew me away. The romance between Astarion and Zoroya is a beautiful, delicate tale of two people growing up together, growing apart, and finding each other again. Beyond that, the fic takes magistrate!Astarion to court for some delicious intrigue that left me on the edge of my seat. Not to mention that Zoraya is just one of my favourite OC's in fiction. 11/10, I kicked my feet, I cried, I was cackling by the time someone did actually yell "objection!".

Portrait of the pale elf by @larvasmoon

Another Astarion/female OC fic - with a twist. Set post the game narrative, tailor!Astarion meets a painter Selene and they get twisted up in a very complicated dark romance. I'm always enchanted by larvasmoon's writing. This fic is an absolute must-read for anyone who loves the romantics and gothic horror/romance stories. Vibes range from "Desperate Romantics" to "Crimson Peak". I'm absolutely obsessed with this one.

A Tale of Fools and Tricksters by @obsessedwhyyes

Continuing on the Astarion/female OC trend, this fic by obsessedwhyyes is, in her own words, a "mystic circus AU", which I didn't know was something I needed until I read it. Slightly spooky vibes as well, and very whimsical, featuring Astarion as the ringmaster of a travelling circus that makes wishes come true. Reminds me of "Alice in Wonderland" as well as "Labyrinth".

Rings of Power

In which we explore my unwavering love for modern AUs

ode to a nightingale by SephySpector

Galadriel/Halbrand. As of writing this, I haven't yet caught up with the final few chapters, but I have been *screaming* about this one on the inside. Modern/kind of college AU that happens to actually be set around Christmas, so it's perfect for this time of year. "The sluttiest thing a man can do is read poetry" made into a fic and let me tell you. Yes. Yes it is.

This is hell, and he is the devil by @lisenberry

Galadriel/Halbrand. Modern AU, Gal is a student/waitress, Halbrand a chef in the restaurant she works at. Now this one is very spicy. I think I read the entire thing in two days, I absolutely loved it. Especially recommend for anyone who's worked in a restaurant before. Definitely one for the dom/sub enjoyers out there.

The Venus of Valinor by @thecoziestbean

Galadriel/Halbrand. Modern AU, Gal gets fired from an art auction house, Hal is a thief breaking into her family home. Due to some complicated circumstances in Gal's family history, she and Hal end up a somewhat reluctant art heist team. The way this fic combines an intriguing, fast-paced heist story with a hot-as-heck romance is masterful, honestly. It reads like watching a movie.

Dragon Age: The Veilguard

How to Steal a Crow in Ten Weeks by queenofseventeen

Lucanis/Rook. Low stakes AU in which things in Veilguard aren't as bad. Focusses on the Crows as a whole, with the Lucanis romance, but also centered around the relationship between Rook and Viago. As of me writing this, just the first chapter is up, but I know this author, and I promise their work is worth the read and the wait. Their writing is fast-paced, innovative and overall just a delicious read.

[kisssaturn]

Follow me to the rabbit hole of the Anuradha Nakshaktra 🕳️ 🐇 🐾

I got inspired by Anuradha threads from Talia🦋 (@Astrotalaya) & @opalblade blade on tumblr

I found helpful posts from different sources I linked them below so you guys can check them out they’re awesome.

Anuradha diety is Mithra god of sun & is the god of friendship.

Anuradha is ruled by Mars & Saturn. Mars is known for survival, aggression, action and courage like a warrior.

Saturn represents discipline, obstacles, lessons and time.

The director of Si-Fi movie “Lucy“, has Jupiter in Anuradha. “Lucy” is played by Scarlet Johansson she’s a Anuradha sun, she’s a Anuradha asc like @opalblade mentions on her post & Claire Nakti.

The lyrics remind me of Mitra as they mention the sun and I also found out Miley Cyrus who is also a Anuradha sun did a cover to this song :)

The article noted that the song is a known reference to LSD. They mention Lucy experience sounds like someone coming down from a LSD trip. It made me recall the Anuradha theme of Alice in the wonderland. Alice follows the rabbit to the rabbit hole. (Anuradha animal yoni is a Hare bigger than a rabbit but similar.) Alice consumes a mysterious cake that has side effects for example making her really tall. The article states in the end “Alice enters the twenty-first century, there’s no sign of her influence abating. She seems to be everywhere at once” Similar to Lucy.

https://x.com/tia_visagie/status/1833259302406209752?s=46

^ She explained the connection between Anuradha and Saturn in detail.

This article “The Hidden Spirituality of Lucy” explained the movie very well and its connection with the evolution of species and human consciousness.

In the beginning of the movie they show clips of animals in the wild, prey vs predator describing the situation Lucy would find herself in. After witnessing her boyfriend being shot dead, she is captured and forced to become a drug mule. Anuradha is a Scorpio Nak the rasi is mars. Lucy was led to intense situations, in need of perseverance and survival instincts. One bag of the CPH drug is sewn into her abdomen for transport to Europe. However, she is kicked in the stomach, breaking the bag and releasing a large quantity of the drug into her system. Lucy’s cells began a process of mutation transmuting her physical and mental capabilities, with time she reached higher levels of consciousness going from 10%-100%. What came in mind was a Saturn quote “With great power, comes great responsibility.” Lucy acquires enhanced physical and mental capabilities, such as telekinesis, telepathy, and mental time travel. Lucy negated her emotions. She was able to regenerate and use the drug to transform herself even her looks.

Themes of phoenix,regeneration, accession & deccession like Talia explains in her posts.

Lucy needed advice on what to do with all the knowledge she has. She asks Professor Norman he tells her she should share her knowledge & ignorance is worse than not sharing it. “The whole purpose of life has been to pass on what we learned, and there is no higher purpose.” When’s Lucy said, “I don’t feel pain, fear, desire, it’s like all things that make us humans fade away, it’s like the less human I feel all this knowledge about everything,quantum physics applied mathematics the infinite capacity of a cells nucleus.” Reminded me about how Ketu feels more comfortable in Scorpio because Ketu is linked with detachment/seperatin & letting go. This article below explains what Ketu is associated with they mention ”Ketu is often associated with the concept of moksha or liberation from the cycle of birth and death. It is believed that a strong Ketu placement can lead a person towards spiritual liberation and ultimate freedom.“ Some astrologers say Ketu exalts in Scorpio because Scorpio is about deep, intense/extreme situations & letting go, surrendering and things related to spirituality. Lucy also says we never really die throughout the movie.

Lucy says in the movie “Every cell knows and talks to every other cell. ”They exchange a thousand bits of information between them per second. Cells group together forming a giant web of communication, which in turn, forms matter.”

https://x.com/maxdemlan/status/1860000754859487578?s=46

Lucy mentions “web of time” & “without time we don’t exist” ,“time is unity” it coincides with Anuradha for its devotion and it being the star of friendship with Saturn being a co ruler of Anuradha along with mars, Saturn rules time. Lucy obtained a venom spider abilities Anuradha has a connection with spiders.

Clairnakti made a post about the actors who play Spider-Man & the girls from Madem Web have Anuradha placements.

The article “Lucy: An Underrated Summer Blockbuster Overflowing With Brains & Complexity” said Lucy is like Spider-Man “Like Spider-Man after the iconic spider bite, Lucy is reborn within her old skin—privately transformed into a fully-embodied mutant. “

Lucy was dragged to a place she didn’t want to be in but ended up attaining higher consciousness. Themes of (descension & ascension like Talia mentions).

A symbol for Anuradha is the Lotus flower. 🪷 Lotus flowers can’t grow without the mud they need the mud in order to grow. The lotus has a connection to the Ajna chakra the third eye, the movie theme was her activating her mind / consciousness.

^The thread is also very interesting.

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Anuradha has a connection with kundalini in his post he states, “Once the kundalini rises from the Muladhara, it seeks to leave out the body through the crown, resulting in Sahasrar’s Petals unfolding like a flower ready to receive the Light.” “Sahasrar is named the “Thousand Petalled Lotus” because there are theoretically a thousand Petals, each connected to with countless minor Nadis or energy channels that carry Pranic energy from different areas of the Body of Light that terminate in the head area.”

Talia also posted that Anuradha constellation looks like a serpent.

Claire Nakti also has made an article about this Nak she explains that Anuradha can ”understand the secrets behind scriptures, that are written in code..”

Lucy mentally begins a spacetime journey into the past, eventually reaching one of the oldest discovered ancestor of mankind, Del Rio asks Norman where Lucy is, immediately after which Del Rio's cell phone sounds and he sees a text message: "I am everywhere." Lucy's voice is heard stating "Life was given to us a billion years ago. Now you know what to do with it."

Lucy was able to evolve to her highest potential of her existence in the movie. This relates to Anuradha themes of accession, transforming & evolving. Going through the tough situations & ego death, Lucy was able to bloom admists challenging situations she had a powerful determination like the lotus flower.🪷🪷

Lucy 2 is in the works right now I’m excited I’m hoping it’s just as good as the 1st one.

Hope you guys enjoyed🐰

[wishchip106]

imagine what the xmen would be like if charles and erik were human

i’m imagining more movie version of xmen with this

if we look at first class moira did originally reach out to charles because he’s a genetics professor and not a mutant

when charles was doing his presentation at the CIA they were not convinced until he and raven showed their mutations

honestly don’t know how raven managed to tag along maybe charles convinced everyone she could come

but like without his telepathy he probably gets rejected and he likely leaves with raven

now erik was only taken in by shaw because he bended the gate so we just got to hope he survived the ‘average’ camp experience

although nothing about the holocaust is average

it could be likely he still becomes a n*zi hunter just without the advantages of his mutation

or he just tries to live his life after that insanely traumatic experience

who knows but basically its unlikely these two will ever meet unless we pull out a romance movie type meet cute thing

now onto the actual xmen starting with the first class mutants they’d likely still live their average lives in hiding (and alex in solitary confinement)

jean would likely be going through foster systems until she’s old enough to live on her own or she gets adopted but without the shields charles put in place her powers would likely take over her and she might end up causing a lot of harm to a lot of people

storm would either been in cairo still or somewhere else but if we’re focusing on the movie timelines, her power would be very minimal

she would likely grow up living on a thief’s wage until she finds something else to do with her life (i wouldn’t know what honestly)

scott would be walking around blindfolded 24/7 as he didn’t have hank to make his glasses for him. if alex continued to stay in solitary confinement he probably had no one to feel connected with

logan would still be fitting into his ‘wild animal’ thing and just moving around bar to bar trying to find something worth doing in his life

rogue would likely of died in the van explosion

a lot of the mutant kids living in the x-mansion wouldn’t have a place to call home and the majority of them would be living on the streets getting persecuted

there would be no brotherhood OR xmen to stop humans from wiping out mutants completely

sure maybe some mutants rise up to make they’re own groups but they likely don’t have the influence of a rich old white guy

crazy how much impact these guys have on the world

both with they’re influence on mutants AND their insanely dramatic romance that lives across the ages