#i like being in boston on the t much more

[desperatelyseekingcannibals]

Telling Hugh Dancy about trans masc Will and more...

As some of you already know by now, I went to Boston Fanexpo this past weekend for another stop on the unofficial Hannibal 2024 Reunion Tour.

I had planned to do autographs on the Friday before the Hannibal panel and had brought some gifts for Hugh which included a copy of Adapt. Evolve. Become: The Genderqueer Fandom of NBC's Hannibal, which I compiled and edited last year. I also got him to sign my own copy (above).

It all moved quite quickly, but I did have the chance to explain that it's a volume by and about trans, non-binary, and genderqueer Fannibals that includes art, fics, essays, and personal pieces. He seemed intrigued and I said I hope he'd have the chance to read it and that the art isn't explicit/sexual but some of the fics are - he laughed and said he appreciated the warning.

It was all quite the whirlwind, especially after coming all the way from the UK, so I was absolutely mortified when I remembered the next morning that I had talked with a few trans Fannibals who had specifically asked me to let him know that he/Will is a trans icon. So I went back up to see him again on the Saturday morning when it wasn't too busy (and get more stuff signed) and this is what happened:

[I wrote notes down right after so this is as close an account I can get without having filmed it!].

Me: I saw you yesterday Hugh: I remember (smiley-friendly) Me: I gave you a book Hugh: I remember (smiley-friendly) Me: well, I forgot to tell you. A few trans Fannibals reached out to me to tell you that Will is a trans icon to them and we all love you for it. Hugh was surprised (in a nice way) and I was pretty much going to walk away then - job done and feeling like time for me to stop bothering Hugh lol. But before I could walk away he sort of held out his hand to stop me and said something along the lines of - I don't mean this in a disrespectful way, don't take it the wrong way... I'm genuinely curious- I get that it can be about identity- but what is the connection to Will and being trans? Luckily - my essay in the book is exactly about how Will can be read as trans, so I sort of gave him a summary of that. I explained that (obviously) both Will and Hannibal can be read as queer, and that - especially as both characters have dominant masculine and feminine traits, it's also easy to read them both as trans or in some way genderqueer. He was nodding and agreeing, so I further explained that with Hannibal, he is fully formed - he's already whatever he is - which Hugh also agreed with. But that Will is still becoming, still transitioning and therefore can be more relatable to trans fans who see that journey in themselves. So although it's not necessarily the same journey - there is enough to it that it resonates with trans people. I said that in the show there is also the added bonus of Will being seen and accepted for who he is, just as trans people wish to be. He was nodding along and agreeing with me and then he thanked me for explaining that. It was pretty quiet previously but I'd been there a few minutes so the queue was building up a little but he was so focused on me - so genuinely intent on hearing what I had to say and learning more. SO I CARRIED ON. (lols) I explained to him that it goes further than the show, that we have found a community in the fandom and that many trans people have a catalyst in their life that sparks their journey - like Will had in his friendship with Hannibal. For us it might be a person, an event, or even a TV show. I explained how the fandom are so supportive of trans people - that we are SEEN. That I for one wouldn't have been able to afford top surgery without the kind donations of Fannibals back when I was not in a good place (mentally or financially). That we all help each other and for some of us that has been life-saving. He did the hand on heart thing and said "wow" and was clearly moved. I said to him that so much of this is in the book, that I completely understand if he doesn't want to read the fanfic, but I really hope that he will at least read each of the personal pieces - that each of the fics and art also have a little write up from their creator about what the show and/or fandom has meant to them and their gender journey - how important this has been in our lives. He repeated a couple of times that he would definitely read it. I thanked him and he held out his hand and gave me the most genuine hand shake I've had in my life.

I want to really stress here how much this was instigated by Hugh. That he really wanted to know more and understand and didn't even look at the slowly growing queue but was instead intently focused on knowing more about the trans Fannibals and about why this show and the characters mean so much to us.

I then went off and spoke with a few Fannibal friends in the queue before getting around the corner to another Fannibal friend and having a bit of an emotional moment/breakdown. I can't even explain how grateful I am that he gave me the opportunity to explain all this to him. And I was especially glad I got to tell that Will is a trans icon because I'd have felt terrible if I'd have not done that after people had asked!! Thank you for trusting me to pass that message on for you!

💖

I know for many of you Adapt. Evolve. Become: The Genderqueer Fandom of NBC's Hannibal might have gone a little under the radar. So here is some more about that >>

It was compiled last year for Trans Hanni Day, edited by Max Turner of (and in conjunction with) A Coup of Owls Press - and published under Max's ACoO imprint.

It features essays, personal pieces, fanart and fanfic by and about trans, non-binary, genderqueer and otherwise non-cis Fannibals.

IT IS FREE TO DOWNLOAD, however we ask that if you do that, please consider donating to one of the linked trans orgs if you can afford to (or a similar organisation/charity of your choice).

It can be purchased on Amazon, however, as the proceeds go to charity, and Amazon only gives royalties, more is earned/given if bought directly via Max's shop.

Dearest trans Fannibals, please know that YOU ARE SEEN!

[uluvjay]

Fall in love with you- T. Zegras

Trevor Zegras x Best friend! Reader (feat. Quinn Hughes)

Summary: you knew Better than to fall in love with Trevor

Warnings?; angst, self-doubt, crying, asshole Trevor, cursing, Quinn comes to the rescue, this is extremely old and hardly proofread so I apologize for any errors!

Next part

—

You were Trevor’s best friend, your moms were best friends in collage leading to the life long friendship of you two.

You two had always been close even when he moved to Michigan for hockey you never drifted. He begged you to come to Boston with him for collage even though he only stayed a year and your had gotten into your dream school.

It was Trevor how could you say no?

That was a problem of yours never being able to tell him no. He wanted to go to a party even though you hated them? You went, wanted you to stay up late with him despite you having a big test the next day? You did it.

You always blamed it on the fact he was your best friend but everyone besides Trevor knew you were lying, they could all see how in love you were with him they just never brought it up.

The first person to call you out on those feelings was Quinn Hughes. Trevor had invited you to the Hughes lake house two summers ago where he constantly left you and was hardly even home most nights, usually with some random girl he met that day.

There had been an argument between you and Trevor, you blew up on him after he came home from another one night stand telling him if you knew you would be spending more time with the Hughes family and their other friends then him you wouldn’t have come in the first place.

He got offended saying he was allowed to have fun to even though that had nothing to do with what you were saying, after he stormed out of the room you were staying in you made the impulse decision to book a flight back to New York, and get the hell out of there but Quinn had caught you packing.

—-

“Hey you okay we heard you two yell- woah what’re you packing for?” He asked stopping himself mid sentence

“Im going home Quinn, thank you for opening your home to me I really appreciate it and you guys have all been so nice spending time with me while Trevor’s off with random girls every night”

“Wait, why are you leaving though? Did Trevor say something? I’ll go kick his ass right now if he hurt your feelings”

“No he didn’t I-I just can’t do this anymore, he begged me to come and of course I said yes like always just for him to pretty much say fuck me and leave me to be with some random girls who probably took pictures of him sleeping so they can post them an-“

“Your in love with him” he said cutting you off

“What? No Quinn, I’m not” you replied with a defensive laugh

“Don’t lie to me”

“Quinn I’m not”

“Cut the bullshit” he told you more stern shutting the door

“I’m not lying”

“Yes you are, I see the way you look at your phone when he lets you know he won’t be coming back, how you stare at the marks on his neck and back, how you stare daggers into all the girls that talk to him, the way your face lights up when he walks into a room, your in love”

“He can’t know Quinn, it’ll ruin everything” you told him looking down at your hands

“Hey, your secrets safe with me, but you can’t do this to yourself forever kid”

And that’s how You and Quinn also became best friends

—-

Fast forward two years and here you are back at the same Lake house in the same predicament. However over last summer you became good friends with most of the guys including Jamie and Mason who came with from Anaheim.

You Graduated from collage in May and got your degree in interior design, tonight Quinn and Jack were hosting you a small graduation dinner as they wasn’t able to attend your graduation along with some of the other guys.

You were standing in the Kitchen with Cole, Quinn, Jack, Trevor and Jamie who had all just come back from a workout.

“So Y/n you gonna come to Montreal and help me make my house look nice? I need some help decorating my shelves they don’t look good” Cole asked

“You can reach your shelves?” Jack asked causing everyone to laugh

“Shut up asshole” Cole replied

“Yeah Coley I’ll come help but I won’t be needing your stepladder I should be good” you said adding in to the joking

“You know what fuck all of you” he said walking off laughing

“Love you!” You called out laughing as well

“When he murders us all in our sleep I won’t be surprised” Quinn said causing everyone to let out light giggles

“Y/n what color you wearing tonight? I don’t wanna clash” Jack asked you

“You act like you won’t be wearing shorts and a random shirt ” you replied “but probably this white dress I bought a little while ago, I’m finally tan enough to wear it”

“You can’t wear white, the girl I invited is” Trevor blurted out looking at his phone

“Dude what the hell? I told you this was a lake house thing only, only the people staying here are allowed at the dinner, no extra invites” Quinn said getting a little pissed

“Aren’t your parents coming? Along with Luke, some of his friends, and y/n’s one friend? Why can’t my friend come”

“That’s our Family Z, they have a relationship with y/n and she knows Luke’s friends from them hanging around they’re like all madly in love with her” Jack said joining in

“Y/n’s fine with it right?” He said giving you the look he always did when he wanted something from you

“I’m not paying, it’s up to Quinn and Jack they organized the dinner” you said looking away

“Yeah so she’s not coming and if she for some reason does show up, she better not be in white, it’s Y/n’s night” Quinn said ending the conversation and walking out everyone else following besides you and Trevor.

“What the hell was that?” Trevor scoffed

“What?”

“You totally taking Quinn’s side!? Are you in a mood with me or something? Why can’t my friend come”

“Because I’m not paying Z, it’s not something i organized Quinn and Jack did, if I had it up to me we’d being having pizza and sitting around a fire not going to a fancy restaurant.” you told him growing a bit annoyed.

“Whatever” he mumbled stomping off.

—

Four hours later everyone was in a private room at some fancy restaurant in Michigan, in all it had ended up being You, The Hughes family, Cole, Mason, Jamie, Trevor, Dylan and Luca.

Trevor hadn’t spoken to you since earlier in the kitchen and hadn’t gotten off his phone since you guys had gotten to the restaurant.

Jamie and Mason had both said something to him multiple times but it just ended with Trevor giving both of them attitude.

You were talking with Ellen about the new things she had planted in their home garden when Trevor stood up and pocketed his phone walking out of the private room.

“Okay can I ask what the hell his problem is?” Ellen had asked loud enough for everyone to hear.

“I didn’t let him invite one of his little hookups and he got mad because Y/n took my side instead of giving in” Quinn explained.

“He hasn’t said a word to me since like noon either” Jack added.

“Okay this isn’t about him and let’s not make it about him, tonight is about Y/n and her achievements” Jim said shutting everyone up just in time as the food was being served.

Ten minutes later the door opened back up and in walked Trevor with a blonde girl.

You froze, was he serious right now? For one night he couldn’t listen and not go off and do what he wanted. You looked around and seen Jamie and Cole both rubbing their foreheads and looked next to you at Quinn who had his head titled back, then to your right to your best friend who looked like she was about to murder both Trevor and the blonde girl.

You returned to eating until you heard someone scoff and a chair scoot out, as you looked up you seen Jamie pulling Trevor out the room, leaving the girl in the room.

“And you are?” Ellen asked causing Luke and Jack to both let out slight laughs at how straightforward their mom was.

“Emma” she replied

“Mm” was all Ellen replied, she also knew about your feelings for Trevor

The door opened back up and in walked a pissed off Jamie which was a rare sight to see, and an annoyed Trevor.

“Everyone this is my girlfriend Emma” he announced and it got so quiet you could hear a pin drop as everyone looked from them to you.

Did everyone know about your feelings? Were you truly that noticeable when it came to how you acted around Trevor?

“Since when?” Mason asked

“Three months” Emma answered

Everyone just stayed quite, the tension could be cut with a knife and the amount of awkwardness was uncomfortable.

“I think it’s time to head home” you whispered in Quinn’s ear

“Yeah, I’ll go grab the check” he said getting up and walking out

“Where’s he going?” Trevor asked

“To get the Check” you replied

“Already? Is that what you whispered in his ear about? I’m not ready to leave you can’t just decide when we all leave Y/n”

“Well I’m ready to head home Trevor and it was my graduation dinner but you of course found a way to make the night about you” you snapped standing up and leaving.

—

Once everyone got home you went straight to your room and got changed into comfortable clothes, went down stairs, made a drink and went outback.

You were feeling a rollercoaster of emotions, you loved Trevor and he constantly hurt you but honestly it was your fault, you were the one that never told him how you feel how’s he supposed to know you wanna be the one in his bed every night?

You were also angry at him, how dare he pull the shit he did tonight at your graduation dinner of all things. You celebrated multiple achievements of his with him and never once made it about you, it just wasn’t fair.

You didn’t even realize someone had come outside or that you were crying until you heard someone ask you something.

“Huh?” You asked as you came back to your surroundings to see Jack sitting next to you.

“I asked why your crying”

“Oh it’s nothing” you rushed out wiping your tears

“Non of that Bullshit what’s up” he asked

“I love Trevor, no I’m in love with him, have been since I was 17”

“I know” he replied nonchalantly

“What?!”

“It’s not hard to notice y/n, your pretty bad at hiding it” he said with a laugh

“You don’t think he noticed do you..”

“No he’s to stupid” he told you laughing again

“Good, I just don’t know what I’d do if he found out I was in love with him, we’ve been best friends since we were born it would ruin everything.”

“You’re in love with me?” You heard the person that shouldn’t be asking that question ask it.

“Shit” you mumbled closing your eyes

“I’m gonna head back inside” Jack said getting up and patting your shoulder

“I asked you a question Y/n, please tell me you’re talking about someone else you’ve been friends with since kids.”Trevor said

“No it’s you, I love you” you said in a low voice

“What the Fuck” he said with a laugh

“I know, I know I’m sorr-“

“Sorry doesn’t cut it Y/n! Do you know what this is going to change? Everything! Our whole lives, every moment we’ve ever shared, it’s all different now”

“I know that’s why I never said anything, I knew you wouldn’t feel the same” you mumbled

“Damn right I don’t feel that way”

“Can you not be rude right now?, you listened in on a conversation you had no business hearing and now you know information that just ruined our friendship, I don’t need you being an ass”

“Why? Why me y/n?”

“I don’t know Trevor! I ask myself that every single day, why you, why my best friend? And I don’t have an answer ” you told him.

“You should have known better”

“It not like I wanted to fall for you Trevor, it’s not like I hoped and wished that I’d fall in love with you and ruin a 22 year long friendship.”

“We need space, I need space y/n I don’t know how to feel about this.” he told you

“I’ll find the next flight to New York tomorrow and be gone” you told him walking past him and into the house.

—

As you were laying in bed you heard someone knock on your door, “come in” you said with a hoarse voice from crying

“Hey I just wanted to check in, Jack told me what happened” Quinn said walking in

“It was so bad Quinny” you said breaking down again.

“No, don’t cry, it’ll be okay y/n” he said sitting next to you and rubbing your back

“I’m leaving tomorrow” you told him

“Why?”

“He said he wants space so I’m gonna go home, I think it’s for the better you know getting away from him”

“Don’t go home, let’s go somewhere”

“Where?” You asked with curiosity

“A beach?”

“That sounds nice”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah” you said looking up at him with a smile

—-

Next part

[sugrhigh]

BOY NEXT DOOR - ( c.s )

part two

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- swearing, drinking, no smut (yet 😁)

neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader

a/n: WELCOME TO MY FIRST REAL SERIES! i have a lot of ideas for this cuz i love this trope dearly so buckle up! more parts will come soon. also working on a tattooartist!reader x matt series (thank you anons) that will also be out eventually. in the mean time if you have smaller/specific reqs you’d like to see, my inbox is open babies! and if u just wanna say hello or ask a question i’m here xoxo

the music booms over the speakers inside the house next door, just like it always does on the weekends (and occasionally on thursdays too). it always drives you up a wall, but tonight it’s particularly bad.

you sit up slightly in bed, absentmindedly wondering who the fuck is on aux. you’re not sure why the thought crosses your mind, but you know it’s not chris, because these picks are horrendous.

it’s already past two in the morning, not to mention it’s the middle of the week. you haven’t been able to get a wink of rest, even with your headphones blaring at full volume. usually they do the trick, but tonight’s party is relentless, demanding to be heard.

wine wednesday, you think to yourself sourly.

neither of your roommates are home; they’re both off with their significant others, somewhere that’s not here, listening to fuckface and his friends get drunk.

you’re usually pretty passive about the noise, because they provide free alcohol for you guys when you show up and typically give you notice that they’re throwing something.

but tonight it’s just too fucking much. you’re tired, and groggy, and very much so still in your silky pajama bottoms and oversized t-shirt, but you don’t give a shit.

you jam your feet into some sneakers and grab a jacket, clutching it close to your chest as you head down the stairs to the main level of your own house.

you pass the dark living room, shadows leering in the corners as you’re guided only by the light coming from the street lamps outside.

you step onto the porch and the cold smacks you in the face, breath fogging up the air. it’s the middle of january in boston, and the expanse of dead grass between your houses crunches under your feet as you tread toward the front door.

the rest of the street is quiet, aside from the party. but they’re all senior hockey players, and it’s the beginning of their last semester, so what else can you expect?

besides maybe some basic human decency every once in a while. in fact, you’re so frustrated that you’re going in without backup, and without a real plan of any kind.

for some reason, once you get up the three steps to their door, you pause to knock. as if anyone would hear you over the music, or care enough to open the door for someone who’s fucking knocking.

so you twist the handle next, and it’s unlocked. of course.

it opens to a hazey front hallway that you recognize, stairs to the left hand side, blocked off by a young-looking guy you assume is probably a freshman on duty.

the front area is full of people, pressed against the walls, chatting over the music. well, more like yelling over it.

you can smell weed, which confuses you slightly. you know none of them smoke, not during the season at least. they usually don’t let anyone do it inside the house, so it must be an allowance for a girl.

you’re already getting strange looks as you step inside, which is fair. your shorts are hidden by the length of your shirt and jacket, so you’re just legs and shoes. you’ve got no makeup on, and you didn’t check your hair before you came.

but you swallow the lump in your throat, because it doesn’t matter right now anyways.

you shift your way through the crowd, gaze skipping over the people as you finally reach the dark living room. multi-colored strobes flash, lighting up the hoards of tipsy college kids dancing on the soaked wooden floor. furniture is pushed aside to make room, though the championship banner from last year still hangs on the wall.

his eyes find you before yours find him.

he stares at you across the tops of people's heads, standing by one of the couches that’s shoved against the wall. one of his roommates, connor, is leaned back on the cushions, watching the two girls they were talking to pass a joint back and forth.

but he’s no longer focused on anyone else, because he’s spotted you across the room, and he thinks this is the most disheveled he’s ever seen you. your angry eyes lock in on him seconds later, and they narrow instantly.

you beeline toward him, right through a group of people that are half-dancing along to the terrible playlist.

he lifts his eyebrows at your attitude, but not in fear. he’s actually a little impressed. his friends are watching you warily, just as confused as everyone else who saw you walk in.

he can’t help but stare at your legs as you finally reach him, admiring how cute you look in your pajamas, pale pink bottoms peeking out underneath your shirt with every step. he briefly wonders if you’re even wearing a bra.

then you open your mouth, and the fantasy is over.

“what time is it, chris?” you snap at him, one hand balled into a fist, the other clutching your phone.

“i don’t know, but i have a feeling you’re going to tell me.” he takes a sip of his drink to try and hide his grin.

it takes a lot of self control to keep yourself from slapping it out of his fucking hand, just because of how smug he looks. you hold up the screen to his face.

two twenty-two in the morning. chris almost laughs.

“the answer is way too fucking late to be having a party on a wednesday.” you reply, bringing the device back down to rest by your thigh.

“why didn’t you come? i missed you.” he pouts.

you glance over at the people on the couch, at the girls who are still making eyes at you as they converse with connor. he’s giving you a weird look too, as if no one could possibly understand why you’re here like this.

“yeah, sure you did,” you turn back to him, “now shut this shit down before i call the cops.”

chris puts his hands up in surrender, though he knows this is an empty threat just as much as you do.

“wow, somebody’s grumpy.”

you roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest self-consciously. “i’m serious. tell the puck bunnies to go home for the night or i’ll do it myself.”

he takes a tiny step closer, just a few inches, and yet it still seems suffocating. he looks too good, clad in a simple black tee and jeans, and he’s studying your face with the fire of a thousand suns.

“you don’t have to be jealous because other girls are here. you know you’re my number one.” chris replies easily.

even though his tone remains light, his expression is serious now. it enrages you more, that he thinks he has so much control over you.

“as if i give a fuck. i just want to sleep, so the choice is yours. police,” you wave the hand that holds your phone slightly, “or call it off.”

chris takes another sip of his drink, tipping it back so he can finish the rest of it in one foul swoop. then he nods his head, like he’s admitting defeat.

“fine. i’ll send everyone home.”

you can feel the relief creeping over you, knowing that you don’t have to actually get law enforcement involved. “thank yo—”

“on one condition.” he interrupts, and you furrow your brows.

“no conditions, chris. we’re not bartering right now.”

“come to the game on friday and we can hang out after for a bit. i’ll even give you a practice jersey to wear.” he offers, and the trademark smirk has reappeared on his face.

lights dance across his features, morphing his expression every few seconds. you just stare, because for once, you’re actually not sure what game he’s playing.

“what, can’t get a date without having to resort to blackmail?” you taunt, and he laughs.

“please, i don’t date. and i’d hardly consider this blackmail. just think of it as getting to know your friendly neighbor on a more personal level.”

there’s a humorous glint in his eye, one that’s daring you to say yes. what’s there to be afraid of? all you have to do is watch hockey, eat some popcorn from the concession stand, and deal with his attitude for an hour afterwards.

you’re still not sure what chris is getting out of this, or why he’s insisting that you need to be there, but at this point you don’t care. all you can think about is salvaging the rest of your sleep.

“alright, fine. now you have five minutes to get everyone out, and i better not hear any more shitty remixes for the rest of the week.” you point an accusatory finger at him and he shrugs, though he’s clearly content that you caved in.

“your wish is my command, princess.”

you turn on your heel to head back outside, retracing your steps from earlier as you slip through the mob. you half expect chris to follow, just because he’s annoying, but he doesn’t.

the overhead lights are coming back on now, and you can hear deep voices shouting, combined with collective groans from the crowd as they all realize they’re being kicked out.

luckily you make it out the front door first, and you jog back up the steps to your own place to get out of the cold.

you’ve only been inside for seconds when your phone buzzes in your hand.

chris

see you friday

sweet dreams ;)

[orphicdreamers-wp]

Oh Baby — Quinn Hughes

Summary: In which you go into labor in another state unsure if your husband will be there to meet your daughter with you

Content Warnings; Labor, Cussing, Needles

Pairing; Husband! Quinn Hughes x Fem Reader

“I’m gonna kill him! Jack, I swear to god I’m gonna kill your brother!” Jack rubbed your back reassuringly, “I know honey. But you can wait to kill him until after my perfect niece is here, right?” You gripped the sleeve of your brother in law’s t-shirt, “If you don’t stop talking Jack, I’ll you first!” A plethora of pain coursed through your body as another contraction ripped through you. Jack gritted his teeth as you clawed his hand.

Jack had always been the one of your two brothers in law that you were closer to, majority of that being the closeness in your ages comparatively to you and Luke. You were 3 years older than Jack and 5 years older than Luke. So you and Jack were closer friends. So when your water broke as you were meeting a realtor for a potential new location for your chain of restaurants, you called Jack knowing he was less than 3 hours away in Washington while Quinn was on his way back from Boston. You had checked into the hospital and gotten situated by the time Jack got to the hospital.

He rushed in holding your hospital bag for the baby, a bag for yourself and another bag of stuff for Quinn. He had called Quinn and reassured his older brother that you were okay, although Quinn could hear you cussing at your ob as she gave you an epidural block. Quinn assured his younger brother that he would be back in time to meet his daughter with you. As time progressed you began to lose hope.

You were in hysterics as you were finally pushing, “Jack I’m scared. What if I’m not cut out to be a mom? I mean I’m only 25 and we just got married. I’m scared that me and Quinn won’t work out.” Jack held your hand somehow tighter, “You are the most amazing person I know, you always know what to say Y/N, you are going to be a perfect mom. And you and Quinn are like a damn rom-com movie. You will be okay, the minute you see your baby girl you will know.” You sobbed as you forced another push, “Thank you.”

The door opened and Quinn rushed in, “I’m here! I may have a ticket but I’m here.” You looked up at your husband, “You made it.” Quinn pressed a soft kiss against your lips, “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Your OBGYN smiled, “Hey Mr Hughes, you made it just in time. Give me one more push and you’ll have your perfect girl.” You clutched Quinn’s hand, unaware of Jack who had taken out a digital camcorder and had started to record you and Quinn’s faces as you let out a groan and clutched Quinn’s hand as you pushed.

You collapsed back when you heard it, your newborn daughter’s cries. You felt your heart clench as the OBGYN spoke, “So dad, do you wanna do the honors?” Quinn’s eyes welled with happy tears as he nodded, “Your damn right I do.” Quinn took the scissors and cut the umbilical cord. With the doctors okay, Quinn held your daughter oh so carefully and placed her on your chest. You reached your finger out and your heart shattered and somehow felt more filled as your daughter’s tiny hand wrapped around your finger, “She’s perfect. Look at her Quinn. That’s all us.”

Quinn melted into you, “She might be the girl I love most in the world now.” Jack smiled with teary eyes, “So what’s my new best friends name?” You smiled at your daughter, “Lorelei Jacqueline Hughes. After my mom and my girls alleged best uncle.” Jack grinned at his newborn niece, “Rory Jackie Hughes. You are so perfect, and you lucked out in the parent department. You have the best mommy ever. Your daddy is alright.”

You smiled weakly at your husband, “I have never loved two people this much. This is the best and most fulfilling experience of my life. I love you Quinn Hughes, with all I am.” Quinn kissed you softly, “I love you too Y/N Hughes, will everything in my heart.”

[sitp-recs]

livvvv my rec goddess. i’ve recently developed an insatiable knack for draco doing little muggle things, like being obsessed with soap operas, or learning how to bake, or playing board games, or painting a house (??) etc etc. any recs as such perchance?? my eternal thanks x

Love this ask anon, “Draco in the Muggle world” can be such a fun trope! I tried to include a bit of everything but I feel like driving and cooking are very popular in fic, so there’s probably a lot of it here. I hope you enjoy these!

magic in the making by getawayfox (G, 2k)

I didn’t see Malfoy for a year after the trial. When Gin told me that, according to Pansy, he had opened a little posh bakery in Mayfair, I thought she was joking, so I went to see for myself.

Market Saturdays by iota (M, 3k)

In which Harry is an accidental part-time cheesemonger, Draco is an organic farmer and they fall in love.

Muggle 'Drug Store Items' by loveglowsinthedark (E, 4k)

Malfoy's interest is caught by a certain Muggle drug store item. (Hint: Flavoured Condoms)

To Make A Way by cavendishbutterfly (E, 5k)

When Harry finds Draco in the back row of the cinema, he doesn't mean to accidentally befriend him. Or fuck him. Or catch feelings. The thing is, Draco only does casual.

How We Throw Our Shadows Down by thistle_verse (T, 14k)

Draco has finally found the perfect, rare piece to complete his collection. The only problem is that the item belongs to Harry Potter, the last wizard on earth Draco wants to ask another favour from.

The Tapestry of Kinship by khalulu (T, 15k)

Harry is at loose ends, Draco is good with needles, and Draco's young daughter wants to see a certain tapestry repaired. The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black will never be the same.

Tuesday Nights by firethesound (E, 15k)

The absolute last place Harry expected to see Malfoy was in a rundown Muggle cinema on a Tuesday night.

Rich Friend by iota (E, 18k)

As far as Harry can tell, Draco Malfoy is still rich as hell. He’s just not a wizard anymore. Featuring: Draco Malfoy trying to make it as a Muggle pop star, Harry Potter as our confused and horny hero, bad driving, good music, and the mysterious magic of falling for someone.

Harry Potter and The Bisexual Awakening by Writcraft (E, 23k)

Harry is perfectly content being single, heterosexual and living in Godric's Hollow with his very clingy rescue dog, Snitch. When Draco Malfoy turns up on Harry's doorstep demanding that Harry teach him how to drive, things quickly become a lot more complicated.

I Bet That You Look Good on the Dancefloor by birdsofshore (E, 28k)

Harry felt lit up from inside as soon as he entered the bar. There were blokes dancing together, their bodies close to one another, not keeping a wary distance as Harry was always careful to do when he was near another man. God, he wanted this – wanted it so much he could taste it, a metallic tang of heat and desire. He suspected nothing would ever be the same again – especially when he saw who else was in the room.

Around You Moves by ignatiustrout (M, 29k)

Harry knew Draco was gay when he invited him to move in. He’s never had a problem with this. So why does he feel so weird about Draco bringing men home all of a sudden?

Faint Indirections by ignatiustrout (T, 30k)

Draco Malfoy is the last person Harry expects to turn up in Boston, Massachussetts. But now he's here, and he won't stop requesting books from the library where Harry works.

Open For Repairs by FeelsForBreakfast (M, 35k)

After the war, Draco works at a tv repair shop and Harry breaks things.

(Un)wanted by aibidil (E, 36k)

Ginny's pregnant, then she's not and Harry's single. Harry, again with no family, doesn't know what to do with this turn of events, or how to find a new life—post-war, post-Ginny, post-abortion—in which he belongs. He doesn't expect that life to include dancing to the Backstreet Boys with Hermione and Draco Malfoy. A story of finding belonging in the unexpected.

The Miseducation of Draco Malfoy by magpie_fngrl (E, 37k)

Zacharias Smith writes a tell-all about the D.A. Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy are not happy about it.

Take A Chance On Me by mintaminta (E, 40k)

There's a DJ on RareFM with a secret. Or: the one with all the ABBA in it.

Nights With You by The_Sinking_Ship (E, 58k)

Draco is mortified when moments prior to departing for the most anticipated destination wedding of the year, he is cruelly dumped. But when he learns that Harry Potter has, at long last, split with his horrible boyfriend, Draco is certain his luck has changed. Never a man to squander an opportunity for revenge (and what would probably be a spectacular shag), Draco vows to make Potter his for the weekend. Now all Draco has to do is convince him.

Salt on the Western Wind by Saras_Girl (M, 60k)

When the war isn’t quite as over as it first appears, a guilt-ridden Harry is sent to a mysterious safe-house. Among sandwiches, insomnia, and Mills & Boon, he discovers something quite unexpected.

Modern Love by tackytiger (E, 61k)

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.

Running on Air by eleventy7 (T, 75k)

Draco Malfoy has been missing for three years. Harry is assigned the cold case and finds himself slowly falling in love with the memories he collects.

[bagopucks]

T. Zegras - Can He Sing?

✄————————————

Trevor Zegras x Fem!reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 2.1k

Warning(s): None?

—————————————

“We’re ready when you are.”

“I’m good. Trev?”

“Uh yeah… I think so.”

“You’ll be fine.”

“Filming.”

“Hello! I’m Macy Grey and today we’re here with the singer-songwriter who brought you the famous album Silly Love Songs. And her lover Trevor Zegras from the Anaheim Ducks. On behalf of myself and the studio I want to thank you both for coming out today.”

“Of course! I love getting in touch with interviewers. Especially from locally known studios.”

“When I was informed you were in town for the All Stars, I wasn’t sure if you’d have the time, but I’m so happy you were able to fit us into your schedule.”

“Absolutely. I should be thanking you for letting Trevor come though. I know your forte isn’t exactly hockey players.”

Large studio interviews were a waste of time. It was something I always resented, and something that even morally never agreed with me. Large studios only wanted to get news first to make the most money. Smaller places offered a more personal environment and a more comfortable atmosphere. It was the only reason why I had invited Trevor along. I didn’t want him involved too much in the social half of my career, mostly because the industry and jealous fans could be cruel to artists’ lovers. But I reasoned with myself that one interview wouldn’t hurt. Especially with someone like Macy Grey. She was always so kind and open to friends, family, or significant others of musicians.

“To kick us off, I’d love to talk more on the exact reason why you’re in town. Everyone is aware of your successes, but let’s fill the crowd in on Trevor’s.”

“Where to start?” I glanced at Trevor, who let out that awkward wheezy laugh. He was uncharacteristically quiet, but this was a new thing for him. Usually hockey interviews happened when there were loads of other people around. These interviews were far more private. “He was voted in as one of the players this year to play in the All Stars, and he’s competing in a few skills competitions as well. He won a gold medal with Team USA one year before the NHL, he attended Boston University before being drafted.. what else?” I hoped to get him to join in, but Trevor looked fairly comfortable letting me do all the talking. I could fix that though.

“Trevor was voted most likely to cry in a haunted house this year for team superlatives.” I smirked as soon as I heard him gasp.

“Yeah, that’s enough of that,” Trevor cut in. “I’m not a baby, write that down.” He pointed toward Macy, as if the woman had some sort of notepad in her hands. “I’m just jumpy. It’s normal.” His blue eyes shifted toward me with a playful glare, Macy laughed softly at the exchange.

“Well, Trevor. It seems like you’re a pretty successful person yourself. Would you mind me asking how you two met?”

“Oh I love this story.”

“Me too,” Trevor chimed in, crossing his legs one over the other, and leaning forward like a kid during story time.

“So, I was in New York for a performance in MSG, and the Ducks were in town too for a game” I smiled, leaning back in my chair and trying to get comfortable. “My best friend had joined me for the eastern leg of the tour at the time, so we decided to go out for drinks downtown. My favorite bar in the city is 230 Fifth Rooftop Bar. So my best friend, Shelby and I, we just got two glasses of champagne and settled at a high table to watch the sunset. We’re minding our own business.. for the most part, but there’s this group of guys that are just carrying on. They’re loud and obnoxious and they look like your stereotypical frat guys. At one point Shelby had enough, and she got up to go yell at them.” I peeked at Trevor, his smile growing wider. He knew very well that this was the part where he came in. “So Shelby’s yelling at that group of guys, and I finally got up to go wrangle her. And just as I’m approaching.. I kinda stopped and asked myself if it was a good idea. Shelby doesn’t like to be told to stop much. Then I hear this voice right next to me. Scared the shit out of me. And the voice goes, “She yours?” I laughed softly, as did Macy.

“I apologized profusely for her behavior, and-“

“But I told her I wasn’t the one getting yelled at. So it didn’t bother me.” Trevor cut in with a toothy grin. “Then I bought her another glass of champagne and the rest is history.”

“Don’t forget about the part where you booked your hotel room for an extra night to see me perform.” I teased, “And bribed security into getting backstage to see me and ask for my number.”

“Those details don’t make me sound as cool though,” Trevor whined.

“That’s a really sweet story.” Macy chimed in.

“Thank you.”

“So he asked for your number, but who asked who out?”

“To simplify a long story, Trevor was beating around the bush too much for a little while, so one night be brought me flowers before an away game and I told him when he got back, we were going to go on our first date as an official couple.” Macy and I laughed in unison.

“And were there any arguments to that demand?”

“Not from me, no.” Trevor giggled. “I was more than happy to put a label on it.”

“And how long have you been together?”

“Two years. Three at the end of All Star Week.”

“How adorable! You guys must be a strong couple then.”

“Oh one hundred percent.” Trevor smiled as he spoke.

“Now, the question on everyone’s minds is.. can he sing?”

“Yes!”

“Absolutely not.” I corrected Trevor ruthlessly. “He thinks he can.. but he can’t.” I chuckled, glancing at the sandy blonde to see his look of pure betrayal.

“Does that mean we won’t be hearing any duets?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” I answered slyly, earning a surprised look from Macy. “Trev is featured on the album.. speaking. His features are mostly just backtracks.”

“I know this may be asking a lot but- is there any chance we could get a sneak peek at that?”

“For you Macy? I would love to.” I watched the girl’s eyes light up. I pulled my phone from my pocket and opened my files, scrolling through for a moment before I stood and dragged my chair closer to the woman’s.

“This song is called Spellbound. It was actually the first song I produced for this new album. I took some of my inspiration from the song Witchy Woman by the Eagles. The reason being, this was written during halloween, and that is just one of my favorite spooky songs. For this piece, I wanted it to feel supernaturally devoted to Trevor. Like.. kind of like.. like a love where one person idolizes the other, but not necessarily in an obsessive or toxic way. I think the lyrics and the tune teetering on the edge of insanity really adds to the supernatural edge and it also makes this song unique to Trevor. I can’t say I’ll ever produce another song like this, nor do I think anyone else will. Classic rock isn’t exactly my genre, nor do I plan for it to be. So this track really sticks out. Which is the main reason why I chose to give this song its own cover art. And I’ll be releasing it as the first single.” It was a lot of information to offer, but I was very passionate about the things I dedicated to Trevor. Especially this song.

Most of my music got old after constantly rerecording lyrics and harmonies, or sorting out instruments. But this song never did. I loved it through and through.

“This sounds amazing and so.. intricate. How long did it take in total from thinking of the idea to finalizing the song?”

“A full month maybe? I hadn’t been exactly itching to make a new album, so I knew if I was going to, my basis for it was going to have to be amazing. And I think I did a fairly good job.” I paused. “I hope so..”

“I’m sure it’s amazing. Let’s hear it!”

I wasted no time in playing the track, a steel guitar and stylized keyboard opening the musical scene. I was a person who loved using clips of recordings in my music, whether it was from everyday life, or a random video in my camera roll, or even if I took the recording of the sound specifically for a song. It was one of my many musical signatures, but the one I was most known for. Atop the smooth music, came the faded clinging of pans, and Trevor’s soft voice. “I can’t wait for you to be home.. Fuck I miss you so much.” It had been a voicemail, but my sound producers managed to give it a more authentic feel, as if someone was in the room with him recording instead of it being spoken into a phone mic. The music itself was fairly calm and collected. Certain instruments helped it sound taboo and old, but the lyrics were the driving factor that made it sound almost insane. A part of me worried my audience wouldn’t take to the song well, but Macy seemed enthralled from the start of the track.

I eyed her expressions carefully through every second, smiling to myself when she seemed particularly intrigued by a section. And I had to admit, it boosted my ego to hear Trevor not too far off in his own chair humming the song to himself. I could live with myself if everyone hated the song, as long as he loved it.

Near the bridge, Trevor’s voice returned, “I’m gonna keep you forever.” This section had been specifically recorded in the studio, and despite my endless attempts to get him to take it seriously, he had giggled at the end of every take. Eventually I settled on knowing I wouldn’t have it the exact way I wanted it, and we used the take with the least amount of amusement in his voice. At the end of the day when we put it all together, his laugh only ended up adding to the crazy feel of the song.

Near the end of the track, Macy finally spoke up.

“This is the weirdest and most mentally satisfying song I have ever heard.”

I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Really?”

“You’re so right, it sounds nothing like what you usually produce, but it still has your essence in it. You can tell it’s your songwriting. I think this song is going to be crazy successful. And I also think having Trevor on it is going to make people go nuts” I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought of that. I knew my fans would love to see Trevor featured.

“Thank you so much. I’m so excited to release the song.” I admitted with a slight grin.

“I’m just excited that I’ll be able to listen to it without having to say “babe can you sing me that song” every time I wanna hear it.” Trevor teased, causing my cheeks to flush as our eyes met.

“You don’t like her singing to you?” Macy joked.

“God no. I love it when she sings. I just hate how much I get made fun of when I ask her to do it.” The three of us laughed.

“Sounds to me like you have a pretty devoted girlfriend.”

“She did write a weirdly obsessive song about me.” Trevor agreed pridefully. “The first of many, right babe?” His question made my brow rise in surprise.

“We’ll see, Ziggy.”

“That’s a good answer. Can’t give too much away just yet.” My eyes trailed back to Macy. Our time was drawing to a close. “I hate to cut us short but I think we’re reaching our limit. And I know you have your own tight schedule today.” She paused. “I really wanna thank you again for making enough time to come out. It means a lot.”

“Mace, I think I speak for the both of us when I say we had so much fun being here. You always conduct the best interviews.” The woman blushed.

“We can come back anytime.” Trevor added, catching me off guard.

“I’ll have to take you up on that offer the next time you’re in town.” Macy grinned. “I hope you both enjoy the All Stars, and rock the red carpet of course.”

“Thank you so much. We definitely hope to.”

“I’ll be watching on tv.”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

[mochinomnoms]

Funfacts about PTM Characters!

Still chilling out from finishing my thesis, but I had a few fun facts about the side characters for PTM that I'd thought you'd all enjoy in the meantime! It's gonna include some of the canon characters as well as the ocs!

This includes some very minor, but not story defining, spoilers for PTM so proceed with caution! As a reminder, PTM takes place a school year after the current timeline!

Canon Characters:

Jade and Floyd made bets on who would get together with their crush first during their 3rd year. The loser has to let the winner(s) plan and execute the most humiliating way to confess. Neither twin is winning. Azul is currently winning with his bet of “neither of you will, you cowards.”

Ortho went to most of Idia's classes during his time at NRC, so he was allowed to “skip” repeating those years when becoming an official student by taking a competency exam. However, he is still staying for a year since the test only allows for core classes and not his electives. He's happy to do so, though.

Idia stayed at NRC to complete his internship with the school, much to his disappointment. He works as a Technomage Intern with the college's technology department.

The overblot cast got closer with each other and Yuu than expected over the summer due to Crowley and S.T.Y.X. requiring them to take part in a “summer camp” to monitor them and their health. Leona still hates Malleus though. Malleus is still mostly unaware of this.

Malleus still does not know how to use technology. Sebek and Yuu have a weekly call with him via a looking glass mirror that acts like a video call. Malleus enjoys it very much.

Kalim switched places with Jamil and is now vice housewarden, while Jamil is now housewarden. Neither's families were happy about this, but were shut down by Kalim being surprisingly firm about his decision. To everyone's surprise, Kalim does very well as a vice over a housewarden, though Scarabia has had significantly fewer parties since the switch.

Nearly all the clubs that had the 3rd years as captains/heads had one of the 2nd years take over into their 3rd year. Ruggie is now Spelldrive Captain, Azul is head of the Board Game Club, and the Gargoyle Studies Club is headed by Yuu. The Pop Music Club is also more formalized now, with Kalim as the head. The Science Club and Film Studies have an NPC 3rd year as heads.

Yuu isn't actually that bad at singing as everyone has (and will continue to do so) suggested. Most of the student body had classical training growing up as part of their privileged upbringing, and Yuu has to compete with that.

At least two pairs of canon characters will get together at the end! Guess who tehe.

OC:

Silas likes to eat bugs and regularly digs in the dirt behind Ramshackle to find something crunchy to munch. They did it once in front of Jamil and the poor guy screamed in horror.

Yev became the new Pomefiore housewarden due to being able to produce the best posion, as per tradition. However, he's actually quite bad at being a housewarden and his vice is the one that everyone tends to listen to.

The Salson triplets are from the TWST equivalent of Salem, and have a North easterner accent, similar to Boston I think. Wynfred and Marion mimic English, or Rosarian, accents, but Silas does not.

There are two more mermen in the school, minus the canon cast and two ocs. They aren't important to the story, but their names are Mariano De La Reyes and Benji (last name still pending). They're based off of Marina and Benjamin from the third Little Mermaid movie.

Speaking of mermen, Aspen is a squidmer and is based on the colossal squid. He's about 18 ft long and still growing. Tony is based on a tiger shark, but is the runt of his litter, hence why he's so small.

Tommy, the white rabbit beastmen that was introduced as Riddle's new vice, is notorious for always running late. He never has actually been late to anything due to parkouring everywhere and climbing the castle walls to enter the classrooms through the windows. Floyd learned how to parkour from him. Riddle hates everything about this.

Briefly mentioned in the last chapter was the botany professor, Kallpa. Kallpa is based on Kronk and the uncle of Yev.

Nurse Goethel has a wife and two daughters that she brings with her to family days on campus. The daughters are roughly age 11 and 13 and each time they've come have designated a student as the new person they want to marry. Two years ago it was Leona and Trey, last year it was Azul and Jamil, this year it's Jack and Ortho. There is no reasoning behind their decision, it's all based on vibes.

James has met Jade and Floyd when they were all very young. James was on his Great Aunt's ship, who was meeting with Papa Leech for unknown reasons. James only remembers them due to their heterochromia eyes, but the twins don't remember anything.

Marion has a really strong sense of smell that is on par with the beastmen. He hates Pomefiore because the dorm and students are heavily perfumed and it gives him a migraine.

Yaqub actually has a twin brother that goes to RSA. He thinks it's funny that it turned out that way and they like to shittalk their schools together on the weekends. RSA is much more chaotic and full of troublemakers than NRC realizes.

At least two pairs of the freshmen will get together at the end of PTM, but it will be a surprise as to who!

And that's all! I have more but I think I'll save them for another time!

[vimbry]

*if you've heard a couple songs but don't really know much about them, or haven't listened in a long while, you can play!

update: the highest votes went to gudetama. but was it correct? here are the full titles and albums.

❌ "put your hand inside the puppet head" - they might be giants

the opening verse makes reference to leaving one's job and how "it's sad to say, you will romanticise all the things you've known before. it was not, not, not so great". according to flansburgh, "the lyric revolves around the idea that looking back on anything colors it in sentimentality".

❌ "I'll sink manhattan" - they'll need a crane (ep)/miscellaneous T

this is a flansburgh song, but linnell explained its meaning in a 1989 interview with NME as "a song about a guy who somehow figures out how to sink the island of manhattan just to kill his ex-lover, so it's his apology to the other people he's gonna kill in between. he's just gotta do it!"

❌ "meet james ensor" - john henry

it's about james ensor (belgium's famous painter).

❌ "wicked little critta" - mink car

from the tmbg unlimited collection: "forged in the crucible of an eastern massachusetts junior high, this song expresses the dreams, fears and hopes of a new england young adult" the lyrics seem to suggest said young adult fantasising about being a sports star alongside bobby orr and john havlicek while goofing off outside.

❌ "working undercover for the man" - mink car

from flansburgh: "it's more a meditation on the "mod squad" [a 1968 crime series about cool undercover detectives] than anything else. the idea of the narc just seems... like, those episodes of "dragnet" where they have the young undercover dress in a hippie suit."

✔️ "talent is an asset" - kimono my house

the lyrics illustrate an overly-cautious family shielding their very gifted child from others, to keep him studious and soak in all the glory, and is heavily implied to be little albert einstein through puns on relatives and relativity. it's not by them, tho. it's by the band sparks. it came 2nd, so I think many of you recognised it (or really wanted to see the results!)

❌ "bee of the bird of the moth" - the else

"this is a song about a creature called a hummingbird moth, which imitates another creature, which imitates yet another creature. it's completely fucked up, and can only be explained in song!" so they did.

❌ "2082" - join us

thewrap's review of the album describes this song as, "a science-fiction short story (...) a protagonist who travels into the future, finds himself hobbled but still unhappily alive all the way into the next millennium, and travels back to the title year to smother himself with a pillow in a mercy killing". fun!

❌ "call you mom" - nanobots

referred to by linnell as an "oedipus pan" song, the lyrics follow an unfortunate young man beginning a relationship with a woman, getting dumped due to his behaviour of treating her like a mother figure, then infantilising a possibly younger woman in a different relationship and in turn leaving her, who goes on to experience the same issues. fun! (altho, the final chorus actually still refers to her Mom leaving, not her dad, I got the details wrong there in the poll).

❌ "gudetama's busy days" - dial-a-song / my murdered remains

yes, that's a real song. quote flansburgh: "(...) it is really just about feeling isolated from the world, even if you are in a crowded place and manically trying to keep up with your life. the character of gudetama appealed to me because he is such a mopey sad sack."

❌ "marty beller mask" - album raises new and troubling questions

this is real, too! it's just about how marty beller was actually an alter ego of whitney houston the whole time. he's not, but wouldn't that be interesting. the song name-checks multiple of her own in the lyrics. it was temporarily retired out of respect following houston's death (4 months after its release), returning to live performances ten years later in 2022.

[peachhcs]

will bringing sam to something to bc for like a hockey thing and she’s his date and he’s proudly walking around with her on his arm

hockey formal

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

samy's in boston for will's hockey formal which means she finally meets all of his teammates that hear so much about her!

2.8k words

i kind of strayed off the path of what you requested, but i hope you like it!! this was so cutie to write, so pls send more in if y'all have any more requests :) (btw i finally used the actual names of the other hockey players on the team LMAO. everyone but connor is a guy on the bc hockey team) (so, the pics are gonna look big if ur on a computer but on mobile it’s fine LOL) (p.s.s my plan is to hopefully post every like 2 days! :) depending on my schoolwork load)

au masterlist

will's hands were around his phone as soon as he was done in the shower. the blonde didn't even take the time to change into clothes as he tapped away and stalked where samy's plane currently was. a grin curled onto his lips seeing her exactly thirty minutes away from the airport.

"what's got you so smiley?" eamon whacked his own towel against will's shoulder as he passed by the stall.

"girlfriend's coming to town," gabe answered with a smirk on his lips before will could even say a word. 

"ooh, the girlfriend, huh? has she been to boston yet?" eamon wondered with his own smile.

"is that the same girl who gave you those wicked hickeys a few weeks back?" mike poked his head into the conversation. his words had will blushing to the tips of his ears.

"yup, that's the one," ryan filled in as he leaned back into his stall.

"you mean to tell me hughes is coming here?" now connor joined the group and half the team in the locker room listened in while gaining knowledge of the star freshman's plans this weekend.

"she'll be at the formal tomorrow," will informed, finally throwing a t-shirt over his head. some of the guys let out oohs and ahhs at that information.

"we finally get to meet little hughesy??" colby exclaimed making the other boys chuckle.

"just don't be too weird, okay? do not bring up anything we talk about in here to her, promise?" will eyed his teammates seriously knowing how they got around the girlfriends. they were always sharing unwanted and lousy information that definitely did not need to get shared aloud.

"what? don't want her knowing we know how many times you guys have done it?" aidan teased earning hoots and hollers from the other juniors and seniors.

will's poor blush got even worse under the commotion. he saw ryan and gabe snickering to one another while sending the boy knowing looks. some teammates they were. 

"alright, shut up. just be normal if that's even possible for some of you," the freshman rolled his eyes, quickly disappearing from everyone to finish dressing himself.

"can't promise anything, smitty! get a few drinks in us and we're saying anything," jack called.

all will did was roll his eyes. he knew samy was used to hockey players and their antics, but he still didn't want his entire team making a fool of themselves in front of her. he wanted her to like them and them to like her. will was very big on gaining people's approval—especially samy. 

—

gabe and ryan happily tagged along to the airport with will. if the blonde didn't know any better, they were probably just as excited—maybe more—to see samy. something in will's heart warmed though knowing his linemates were so close with one of the people he cared the most about. he knew how much the two missed being in michigan and all of ellen's delicious homemade meals when they visited on the weekends. all of them were counting down the days they were all together again at the lake house.

the three were bouncing on their heels waiting by the gate while watching everyone unload from the plane. with them being so tall, they were able to see over most people's heads as they searched for samy's familiar mop of brown curls.

"i see her!" ryan exclaimed and the other spotted her also searching for them through the sea of people.

will began pushing his way forward to meet her in the middle. he felt like a little kid on christmas with how big his smile was and how tightly he embraced the girl when they finally met in the middle. his hug was so tight samy's feet lifted off the ground a little in a small spin.

"hey willie," samy beamed into his shoulder.

"hi pretty girl, missed you," the boy mumbled back, reluctantly letting her go for a moment. the girl's eyes spotted gabe and ryan hanging back, so she quickly jumped towards them.

"aw, my two favorites came to get me too," samy giggled as they both wrapped their arms around her shorter frame.

"good to see you too, hughesy. been a while," ryan chuckled.

"two favorites?" will cleared his throat, raising his eyebrow.

"obviously you're the first," the girl chuckled, tugging her arm back around her boyfriend after hugging ryan and gabe. the boy grinned as he basically smushed samy into his side. 

"someone's jealous,," gabe teased which only earned him a harsh glare from his friend. 

"you hungry at all? thinking about grabbing lunch with aram and drew back on campus," ryan wondered as the four made their way back down to baggage claim. 

"is that even a question? of course i'm hungry," samy beamed making the guys laugh. 

ryan and gabe helped grab samy's suitcase while catching up about soccer and school. will hung back, gladly letting his linemates talk since he's heard it all already from their nightly facetime calls. the smiles on ryan and gabe's faces were enough to tell will how much they enjoyed being around samy. it was something the blonde worried about when he first introduced them two years ago, but he should've known there was nothing to worry about. 

obviously samy got shotgun in will's car, so the guys stuffed themselves into the backseats. samy excitedly told them about her spring season while they chimed in with small tidbits from hockey. 

"did smitty tell you all the guys on the team are excited to meet you tomorrow?" ryan wondered. 

"they are?" samy giggled to herself while both boys nodded.

"you should've heard them in the locker room earlier," gabe grinned while will eyed him through the rearview mirror. 

"you're kind of a big deal to them i guess," will mumbled a bit shyly. his ears turned a slight pink thinking back to their teasing remarks. 

"so i've heard. i can't wait to meet them," the brunette chuckled. 

lunch with the six of them felt like old times back in michigan. somethimg about being all together and laughing like they hadn't been apart the last few months brought a sense of comfort and nostalgia knowing that in a few years they really weren't going to be together like that. 

samy and will retreated back to his dorm afterwards to spend some much needed alone time together before tomorrow. the girl grinned when her eyes caught sight of will's new wall decorations as soon as she stepped into the room. 

"aw, you two took my suggestions," she beamed and glanced over at gabe's side too. 

samy's heart warmed seeing so many pictures of her on will's side. he had three framed photos and probably 10-15 mixed into the photo collage on his wall. a smile crept onto the blonde's lips watching his girlfriend inspect every aspect of his side since she last visited. 

"this one's my favorite," he pointed to one of the many photos in the collage. 

samy ws laughing at something whoever took the photo said, but will's eyes had never left her. the gaze in his eyes said a lot more than words could. 

"wait, i didn't even know this picture existed. when was that?" the girl wondered, jumping onto will's bed to get a better look.

"like last summer?" the boy shrugged some. 

"i didn't even realize you were looking at me," samy giggled. 

"i know. that's why i like it," her eyes flicked to will's and that same stare from the photo was in his eyes. a small blush painted her cheeks as she quickly looked away before he noticed. 

"it was nice seeing the guys. i missed them," samy changed the subject as she sunk further into will's bed. 

"they were really excited to see you. they really miss michigan. i do too," the boy kicked his shoes off to join her. his words softened out samy's expression. 

"best two years ever having you guys so close by. i can't wait for summer," her voice dropped a little knowing how far off summer was still. 

will's arm curled around her waist to bringing her into him. "me neither. this long distance sucks, but i'm glad you're here. tomorrow's gonna be fun," his fingers carefully brushed some of her hair away from her face. 

a teasing smile grew on samy's lips, "how bad are they gonna chirp at you?" she knew all too well about his teammates constant teasing. 

"hopefully not too bad. i told them to cool it," will mumbled with an embarrassing blush that samy adored nonetheless. 

the two spent the rest of the afternoon in each other's arms after two long months apart. gabe came back later that night to the sight of them sound asleep and some random movie playing off of will's computer. the dark-haired boy quickly snapped a photo before shutting will's laptop and placing it somewhere safe. he quickly sent the photo to the freshman group chat, a smirk on his lips as he got himself ready for bed. 

—

will stood in front of the full length mirror getting his tie ready while samy got herself ready in the bathroom. he'd be lying if he said he wasn't just a little nervous for tonight. the hockey player knew his teammates would like her—they literally fangirl over her—he was just afraid they'd become too much or something. 

gabe threw his suit jacket over his shoulders while trying to look over will in the mirror. "dude, you're hogging the mirror," the dark-haired boy complained. 

"i'm almost done," will mumbled, fidgeting with his collar now. 

"go look at yourself next to your girlfriend in the bathroom," gabe shoved will out of the way. the blonde stumbled sideways, catching himself on the door. 

"dude," the blonde glared at him. 

"what? there's a bathroom for a reason," gabe shrugged, seemingly unbothered by pushing his friend out of the way. 

will rolled his eyes before gently knocking on the bathroom door. "yeah?" samy asked. 

"can i come in? gabe's kicking me away from our mirror," will wondered. he heard samy laugh and then a yes, so he carefully pushed the door open. 

the sight in front of him made the boy stop in his tracks. samy leaned over the counter trying to apply mascara and her dress was one will hadn't seen before. the material was satin or something because it shined in the light and hugged all of the right places. blue was most definitely samy's color. 

"like what you see?" the brunette smirked. she caught will's wandering eyes through the mirror, finally turning to him once she had her mascara on. 

pink colored will's skin from his neck to his ears. "you look beautiful," he mumbled, slowly stepping further into the bathroom and letting the door close a bit. 

"you don't look bad yourself," samy smiled at his all black suit and tie look. 

will stepped forward even more so his one arm could snake around samy's waist. he pulled her into his chest while his eyes shamelessly dropped down to her chest area and back up. "i can't believe you're mine," he nearly whispered making the girl chuckle. 

"you're sweet. i think i'm almost ready," samy's hands brushed back some of will's unruly curls. he flushed under her touch and brought her to his lips before he let her go. 

their kiss was filled with a lot of love. will's grasp on her waist kept her in place, kissing her deeper which allowed him to push his tongue into her mouth. samy's hands toyed with the hair on the nape of his neck, indulging in her boyfriend's slight neediness before she needed to finish getting ready. his boyish instincts started taking over as his other hand began sliding down past her waist. 

before he could reach her butt, samy pulled herself away. "i gotta finish getting ready. don't wanna be late," she giggled. 

will let out a small groan in protest, "you're annoying." 

"maybe." 

samy turned back to the sink, eyeing her makeup scattered across the counter. will's eyes did one last once-over of his girlfriend before tearing his eyes away and doing his finishing touches. another five minutes went by and the couple was finally ready. gabe looked up from his bed, smiling at the two.

"finally. scared i'd have to walk in there myself," he joked. 

will rolled his eyes while samy just chuckled. the three headed out of the dorm where they met ryan, drew, aram, and will vote downstairs to drive over together. the seven exchanged their hello's before dividing everyone up between will, drew, and ryan's cars. gabe stuck himself with will and samy, so the three continued out to the parking lot. 

samy smiled when will opened her door for her. 

"so charming," gabe mumbled as he climbed into the back. 

"wish he did that for me," ryan laughed as he walked by. 

poor will knew he wasn't going to escape the chirping all weekend, especially tonight. the drive into downtown stayed uneventful with minimal comments from gabe. they pulled into what looked like a very fancy bar in the heart of the city. samy hooked her arm around will's as the three walked in. a lot of the upperclassmen were already there mingling and their attention was caught when samy and will walked in. 

"yo, smitty!" aidan exclaimed, running around the bar to the couple. 

"what's up, hreschuck," will grinned. 

"you must be samy. we've heard a lot about you," aidan turned to the girl beside his teammate. 

"it's good to meet you," the two exchanged a friendly hug before the older player went to greet gabe. 

"it's her! it's little hughesy!" connor jumped up, running to hug samy. 

"connor miller! it's been forever since i saw you," the brunette laughed. she remembered connor playing with luke in the ntdp before they headed off to separate schools. 

"i know! when i heard you were smitty's girl i just couldn't believe it. how's your brothers?" the older boy wondered. 

"they're good. quinn's in van. jack and luke are in jersey. i'm the only one left in michigan," samy chuckled a little. 

"god, i can't believe moosey's in jersey. i can't believe you're old enough to be in college. you play soccer right?" 

will lingered beside samy while the smile on his lips grew. he never put two and two together that samy would know some of these guys through her brothers. he loved seeing her eyes so bright talking to connor about her brothers and soccer knowing she'd talk nonstop about them at any chance she got. maybe he wouldn't get chirped at as much as he thought. 

just as will thought that, colby and mike bounced over to where the couple was. "aw, she really does exist," colby cut into the conversation causing will's face to flush. 

"i'm colby. that's mike. we've heard a lot about you being smitty's girl," colby continued as he held his hand out. 

"it's nice to finally meet you guys," samy laughed, shaking their hands. 

"don't pay much mind to them. colby's going a little crazy tonight since he's graduating in a few months," connor laughed. 

"can do whatever i want and they won't kick me off the team," the older guy shrugged. 

"sometimes we thought smitty was lying about dating you," mike chimed in. 

"yeah, sometimes i don't believe it either," samy joined into their teasing. her gaze slid towards her boyfriend still beside her who blushed hard. 

"i mean he definitely picked a good one," colby nodded. 

"why don't you guys get some drinks and food before the other guys eat it all," connor laughed, pushing samy and will further into the bar and pretty much saving them from more of mike and colby's annoying remarks. 

"jesus, sorry about them," will mumbled when they were out of ear shot. 

"don't apologize. i thought it was funny," samy shook her head with a smile. 

"they don't know how to shut up ever," the blonde rolled his eyes. 

"you forget i'm used to it after growing up with three brothers who have hockey friends of their own," the girl giggled making will flush. 

"i know. i know. thanks for coming again," will placed a chaste kiss to her lips. 

samt stuck to will's side for most of the night, but she enjoyed seeing him in his comfort zone. all of the guys on the team were so close with one another. the upperclassmen treated the underclassmen like brothers despite the slight chirping. she could tell how much will loved it and how much he fit in with them. 

even though her boyfriend did most of the talking, she was glad to be at his side in a pretty dress for the night supporting him in what he loved the most. 

[theonemeathead]

Sniper x Reader, "Quick Trip"

a sniper x reader smutfic! tw for afab anatomy, the implications of the word 'sheila'. enjoy!

August. One of the hottest months of the year, not to mention it was the hottest day in New Mexico yet. A ceasefire had been called until further notice, the temperature being down right deadly. There was no shade for miles, within the border of the Badlands.

Which just so happened to be where you lived. Your residence, currently, was Teufort's RED base. You had been on base for a couple of years now, you got along with everyone well enough; Some more than others.

Which leads you to the current situation.

You see, Sniper was about to leave on a joint-contract with Scout; Somewhere not nearly as blazing hot. And he was going to be gone for almost two weeks. Clearly, this didn't bode well with you as you stood, with crossed arms, in front of him. You had been begging him all day to let you tag along, but he refused, insistently.

"Mundy, this isn't fair! The AC in the base is broken, you gotta—!"

"I said no, sheila," he cut you off, his tone stern. Of course, you didn't take well to being talked over, especially by your boyfriend. You furrowed your brow, opening your mouth to speak, when you were interrupted, yet again.

"Sick! Ya coming with us?" Ah, Scout. His Boston accent never failed to amuse you, especially with the mischievous glint in his eyes whenever he spoke. He smiled wide, hopeful that you could maybe make the car ride a little less dull. Sniper usually wasn't one for small talk, you were lucky if you could even get a head nod out of him.

"No." "Yes!"

You and Sniper said in unison, he shot you a nasty side eye from behind his aviators. You never understood how Sniper was able to take the heat so easily. He was still wearing his full uniform, boots and all. You had half a mind not to strip naked with how unbearable the temperature was. However, still somewhat sane, decided against that and listened to your better judgement for once.

"Aw, c'mon, Snipes, let 'em tag along! At least they talk," Scout tried to reason, taking your side. Sniper sighed dramatically, grumbling something you couldn't quite understand. He crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at you.

"You're both insufferable. Get in." Your eyes lit up immediately. You had gotten your way, per usual. You clambered into the vehicle, sitting directly in the middle between the other two mercenaries. The black leather seats had definitely seen their fair share of wear and tear, various holes burned from dropped cigarettes, some exposed, yellow foam from the peeling material... But Sniper loved his van. In between your legs was the comically long stick-shift. The handle was slightly chipped away and the design faded from being used so often. Sniper refused to drive anything but manual, because it's 'the right way' he said. With a loud sigh, Sniper had pulled himself in on the driver's side, buckling his seat belt in one swift motion. He clicked the key forward in the ignition, the camper sputtering to life. It was definitely old and in desperate need of repair. The bushman reached forward for the gearshift, his rough hands accidentally brushing the top of your knee as he put the car into 1st gear. Normally, gestures such as this didn't get to you. But, something felt off about it this time.

The first 10 minutes of the car ride turned out to be a bust. Sniper was too focused on the road and Scout was knocked out, cold. The only sound was the distant crackling of the radio and the soft snores from your teammate. You had one exciting moment when Sniper went to shift to 3rd, his hand grazing your leg yet again. You shot him a quick glance, unsure if it was on purpose on not. Sniper wasn't one to tease. You leaned forward with a sigh, slightly turning the dial on the radio to the right. It was set on a classic rock station currently playing a song by Men At Work. You didn't know much about the band, besides the fact Sniper really liked them.

"I love this song." Sniper's gruff voice had come out slightly whispery. You squirmed a little in your seat. Did he always have this affect on you? His Aussie accent had rang through you ears. It was such a simple string of words, but coupled with the fleeting touches, it was... different. About an hour and a half into the car ride, Sniper made the executive decision to stop at a gas station a couple miles up the road. With Scout still asleep, Sniper pulled up to the pump, slamming the breaks to scare the sleeping Bostonion awake. With an abrupt 'oof', Scout was up and ready to fight immediately.

"What—! What is it?! What happened, are we dead??" He yelped, looking around frantically. Scout paused, huffing when he saw that you were all just in park. "You guys are freakin' assholes, I'm gonna go take a leak."

With the 3 of you filing out of Sniper's front seat, you watched as Scout stretched and walked towards the gas station itself. Behind you, Sniper had already unscrewed the gas cap, removing the nozzle and forcing it into the tank. With a simple 'click', diesel fluid immediately began pouring out. Sniper stared at it for a second before abruptly pulling on the handle of the side door of the van, exposing the inside to you. Confused, you looked up at him.

"I told ya I didn't want you coming on this trip, roo." His tone was dark, almost sadistic. Your brows pinned up, a bit of fear beginning to creep through your system. Sniper never took a tone with you. He turned to you, his eyes hidden behind his yellow-tinted aviators. You swallowed thickly, afraid of what was next. "Come here."

You obeyed, stepping closer to him timidly. Immediately, you were manhandled, almost thrown into the back of his camper van. You stared in surprise, yelping as he slammed the door closed behind the both of you. You didn't have time to react before he was on you, his mouth meeting yours. The kiss wasn't pretty or experienced as his teeth clacked against yours, his lips bruising and hungry. He must've been pent up, watching you flaunt yourself around in that low-cut tanktop and those too-short shorts. Just as fast as he had started, he had pulled away. The marksman looked you up and down, as if you were nothing but prey.

"This is the entire reason I didnt want'cha to come, darl'. Just can't keep my bloody hands off ya."

A flash of red was all you saw before you were flipped onto your stomach, Sniper using his long limbs to entangle your arms behind your back. He had you like a wrangled animal, trapped and helpless. He grunted quietly, cursing under his breath as he kept you pinned with one arm. He used his one free hand and made quick work of your bottoms, sliding them, along with your underwear, down to rest just below your ass. You jolted at the feeling of his caloused hand immediately delving into your folds, as if to relax you. A low whimper left your throat, the feeling of his long, thick fingers tracing themselves inside of you, curling to hit the right spot.

You didn't have much time, however, and Sniper knew this. He retracted his fingers, sucking whatever juices was on them off. The clinking of a belt, along with shuffling fabric excited you further. Although you couldn't look back, you could feel him start to guide his long length towards your aching hole. He slid into you, slowly. Sniper wasn't thick per se, but he was definitely long. The head of his cock practically kissed your insides in all the right places. With how wet you were, you didn't need much time to accommodate his size. Snapping his hips into your ass, you could feel every drag of his cock, every pulse and vein. His pace started off bruising, the hand keeping you pinned down began leaving crescent-shaped indents from his fingernails.

There was something primal about this. The heat had burned extra hot that day, and so did your lover, it seemed. He reached his free hand under you, beginning to rub sloppy circles on your clit. Shortly after, you eyes had screwed shut, a line of drool beginning to leak from your mouth. The campervan had rocked slightly with each thrust, your pants and pleas falling upon deaf ears as Sniper used your body. It wasn't long until you tried to warn him, maybe a little too late.

"Mick, I—!" Before you could continue, you had came, your own moan cutting you off. Sniper had a sick, twisted smile, letting go of your arms to focus fully on grabbing your hips. He had started slamming your overstimulated, quivering cunt back into him. It sent shocks through your body, the pleasure quickly turning to pain as it became too much

"Fuck, I love ya, roo. I'm gonna fill ya right up, make ya mine." His thrusts grew erratic, almost sloppy, as a string of curses and praise left his lips as he hilted himself fully inside of you. You heard a small groan, followed by some deep breaths as Sniper came inside of you. With a groan, he pulled out, his cock growing softer by the second. He yanked his pants up, buckling his belt back with extreme ease and skill. There was no time for aftercare. He helped you slide your clothes back up, your trembling thighs sending delight through him. He picked his slouch hat up from off the ground, dusting it off. He held a crooked smile as he placed it atop your head, the hat much too big for you. He had finished pumping gas, screwing the cap back on before leaning against the front of his Chevy.

"Where's Scout?"

"I paid him $20 to piss off somewhere for like half an hour. He'll be back soon, love."

[cinnaleaf]

ESSENCE OF US - CH 12: MAYBE, BABY?

Please read responsibly. This fic will get hot and heavy as the story progresses, 18+ only MDNI | READ CH 11 | MASTERLIST | READ CH 13

summary: a fleeting encounter with a mysterious Trent leaves you wondering if fate is playing a bigger match. your paths continue to cross in unexpected places as the fragrances around you mirror the growing tension between you. maybe it's just a coincidence..or maybe its destiny in the making.

warnings: FLUFF, smut (mirror sex), language, mentions of pregnancy, smau wc: ~8.5k song inspo: Me & Ur Maker x ¿Téo? ft. Maesu | Real Thing x Pink Sweat$ ft. Tori Kelly 💌: as always, anyone can read but the IG smau is how y/n looks TO ME

It had been almost a week since the infamous pregnancy conversation you had with Camille at Les Notes d’Amour. It was laughable at first, but here you were six days later..still without a period. That little fact took up residence in your mind, rolling around like a pebble in your shoe. You were a bit on edge to say the least.

This couldn’t possible be happening to little you – but it was.

Today, your unease only grew at the sight of the stack of Miu Miu clothes sent over for an event they invited you and Ezzie to in London after the Tea with T video went viral. Normally, you wouldn't consider yourself someone who would dive into the world of flashy events for the sake of digital consumerism, but you didn’t mind wearing the influencer title if it meant your younger sister could immerse herself in the fashion world she adored.

You slipped into a dark wash two-piece that sat snugly on your frame. The crop top hugged your chest just right, stopping just above your waist with the classic Miu Miu logo stitched on the hem. The skirt sat high on your waist, fitting around your hips and ending mid thigh. It would be a cute look any other time, but today..not so much. You were bloated as hell.

Okay, what is going on?? Did I give them the right measurements?

You were bloated to the point where the waistband of the skirt dug into your skin, making you extremely irritated off rip. You tugged at the hem and then the waistband, trying to shift things around like that would automatically fix the outfit, but nope. Didn’t work. You weren’t really feeling this outfit.. or any of them for that matter.

I can’t wear this… I look so bad.

Frustration washed over you as you stripped off the set and your eyes started to sting in a flurry of oncoming tears. You grabbed a dress next and quickly slipped it on, but it wasn’t any better than the two piece set. The fabric skimmed over your bloated stomach and it all felt wrong.

I can’t do this for nine months. There’s no fucking way. I can’t be pregnant..what the hell am I supposed to wear?

Irritation gnawed at you as every single thing piled up, making you feel worse. Rêveur was smelling weird to you lately and you couldn’t figure out why. You also hadn’t seen your perfume diary in forever, which held every single work in progress. Lastly, the possibility of being pregnant was looming over you like the darkest cloud. You bought the test, but you hadn’t taken it yet or even told Trent there was a growing possibility of pregnancy on the horizon. If you didn’t know..maybe you could pretend everything else was fine. Still, just looking at yourself in the mirror heightened the possibility even more. You huffed, not even wanting to go to London for the Miu Miu event anymore. If the look wasn’t eating you weren’t trying to be seen at all, especially if you really were pregnant.

Downstairs, you heard nothing but loud noise and rambunctiousness. Ziggy, Trent, Marcel, and Tyler were all lounging on the couch, yapping over a Boston Celtics and Dallas Mavericks basketball game. You made your way down the stairs, each shout and laugh grating your nerves. When you made it to the last step, you took in the scene: the boys were all leaning forward on the edge of the couch, eyes glued to the telly.

Ziggy got up on his feet, shouting and pointing at the TV, “You see Luka Dončić’s fadeaway?! He’s floating! Look at the form. Fucking legend! They call him ‘The Don’ for a reason!” Trent shook his head at your brother’s antics. “Nah. Tatum’s gonna come through. His stats are solid..he’s got the range for a win.”

Marcel shook his head and threw a pillow at Trent, laughing. “Delusional. His shooting is not that great. Luka’s working with a lot less and getting it done.”

Tyler was hyped by the back and forth, clapping at the telly like he was a coach on the line. “Luka’s got this..I’m telling you.”

You rolled your eyes, not knowing what the hell they were going on about because you were more of a footie girl. You watched them, annoyingly fascinated by how well your brother managed to integrate into their life so seamlessly. Ziggy had somehow found the time to come over for workouts in Trent’s home gym setup, but Trent and your brother spent the majority of the time yapping rather than training, aggravating you whenever they had a chance. It was kind of cute at the same time – no one would have ever known they hadn’t seen each other the past 10 years. They were nearly inseparable.

As the game intensified, Trent looked over at you and caught your eye – like he felt your presence immediately even though you didn’t say a word. He grinned and gave you a nod of acknowledgement, immediately perking up your mood. You walked over to the couch, standing right in front of their view of the TV just as Luka took another shot.

“Y/N! Fucking move!!!” Marcel yelled, waving his hands in the air like a mad man. “You’re not made of glass you know!” Ziggy reached out to give your a harsh prod on your leg, yelling at you too. “You’re blocking the telly! Get out the way! Can’t you go do something else with Ezzie?”

You ignored them and turned to Trent, tugging on his hand while batting your lashes. “T, baby... can you help me with something, pleaseee?” you asked, dropping your voice into a flirty tone. Trent didn’t need much convincing at all and got up immediately, completely immune to the complaints surrounding him. He gave you a kiss where your jawline met your neck and collective annoyed groans followed.

“Ugh, get the fuck out of here with that! We don’t want to see it!” Marcel yelled with a dramatic eye roll. Ziggy rolled his eyes too and pretended to gag while muttering something about Trent displaying ‘ultimate simp behaviour’, Tyler shook his head and crossed his arms, telling Trent he was beyond gone and completely whipped. You were unbothered by the peanut gallery full of haters and stuck your tongue out at all of them, reaching over to shove all of them in the head for good measure. “You lot are just jealous.” Trent laced his fingers in yours as you led him away from his boys’ night. Once you reached the bedroom, Trent looked around curiously eyeing the scattered clothes covering the floor. “What am I helping with again?” he asked, taking in the tornado that just ransacked the bedroom.

You let out a sigh, crossing your arms as you surveyed the hotchpotch of outfits, purses, and jewellry around you. “I need you to be my audience,” you frowned, feeling a pang of frustration. “Nothing looks right on me today.” Trent tilted his head, moving his gaze over your frame in awe like he always did when he looked at you. “I doubt that.. you look good in anything,” he replied simply, without a hint of doubt in his voice.

You led him over to the walk-in wardrobe which was now overflowing with your clothes, purses, shoes and half packed boxes. Trent’s eyes widened, taking in the scattered stacks of items that took over his space within the past week. You had finally taken him up on his offer to officially move in – you basically lived here already anyway, so it made sense. The more you unpacked, the more you underestimated how much stuff you were bringing over. You kept your apartment for now, mainly due to your instincts telling you to not fully let it go just yet – it wasn’t that you didn’t trust him, you did, but you always needed a plan B..and maybe a plan C. Even with all the packing, you couldn’t find the perfume diary that was still MIA. You turned your entire place upside down looking for it while packing, but you still couldn’t find it. The notebook had all of your handwritten notes, formulations and every scent memory you pieced together. It was like a personal archive for everything you ever crafted – the foundation of Les Notes d’Amour.

“I think we’re gonna need more space,” Trent gave a suppressed laugh, eyeing the collection of clothes and accessories that claimed the majority of what used to be his space. To make room, he moved a bunch of his own things into a spare room, just to make you more comfortable. 

You rolled your eyes, feeling a bit moody. “Oh? Now we need more space?” you shot back. “You didn’t mention any of that when you kept begging me to move in. I can leave. I have my own space.”

Trent grinned, unfazed by your sassiness for now. “Baby.. I’m just saying. You have a lot of clothes.”

“No. I don’t. Some of us just have taste and like to wear more than trackies and matchday kits..unlike you,” you snarled back. It came out a lot ruder than you anticipated, but he was starting to get on your nerves, so your point still stood for now. Trent placed a hand dramatically over his chest like you wounded him with daggers. “Ouch.. that’s how you really feel, huh?” He still wasn’t all that phased by your moodiness, but he also wasn’t going to let you get away with it the longer you kept it up either.

You sighed, tilting your head back and ran your hand over your forehead. “I’m sorry..I didn’t mean it like that.” You started taking off the dress you were wearing, quickly eyeing for any other pieces that would make you look better than you felt at the moment. “Nothing I put on looks right…it’s really frustrating.” You could feel tears pooling and you lightly dabbed at the corners of your eyes, not wanting him to see how crazy you were for almost crying over an outfit.

“What about that? Put that one on and lemme see you.” He pointed to a two piece set that featured an edgy washed denim corset top that was laced at the front with a matching skirt that had a frayed hem. You looked at yourself in the mirror, tilting your head as you tried to picture wearing it to the Miu Miu event with your sister. Normally, you would’ve loved the look – but you just weren’t feeling your best today. 

Hmm..maybe my man does have taste? This is cute..but I don’t know. 

With a sigh, you slipped into the two piece set and Trent stood behind you, staring in appreciative amazement as his hands settled on the slight curve of your stomach. “Yeah..wear this one, baby. You look fucking unreal.” he murmured against your skin while he drank in your reflection through the mirror. “I’m a lucky man. I’ll never get tired of this view.”

You tried to smile, but him having his hand on that part of your stomach made you tense up. You were cringing internally, suddenly feeling like this was an impromptu maternity shoot. Trent noticed immediately and turned his head to look at you and not the reflection of you in the mirror.

“You okay?”

You nodded, pulling yourself from his embrace. “Yeah..just cramping. I’m okay.” 

It wasn’t a total lie, you were cramping – but that was a symptom of pregnancy too. You kept trying to convince yourself your period would come soon, but the longer it took, the more worried you became. You were praying to every deity by this point, too scared to just check and get it over with for your own peace of mind.

“Oh. That time of the month again?” he asked, watching you as you avoided his gaze and tried to distract yourself by fumbling around with random clothes around the room.

You shook your head, “Um, no.. not yet, but almost.” You turned back at him with a forced smile, trying to change the subject immediately. “But..do I really look good in this?” you motioned to the two piece set you were wearing. “Or are you just saying that so you can go back and watch the basketball game? Be honest. I won’t get mad if you say I look terrible...are you lying to me?”

Trent burst into laughter and cupped your face. “Y/N, you would be pissed if I told you that.” He brushed his thumb over your lips before giving you a tender kiss. “I’m not lying though. You always look incredible. I almost want to convince you to stay here with me.”

You scoffed, knitting your brows and crossing your arms. “So if I did look a mess you’re just going to let me walk around...looking a mess? Without telling me?” It was meant to be a rhetorical question at first, but you kind of wanted to know the answer at the same time.

Trent was not winning this quarrel. Every question was a set-up at this point. He tried to stifle a laugh, realizing he was treading into dangerous territory. “Nah, nah. I’m saying you look good mostly. But you’re telling me you want me to tell you if something’s off?”

You nodded, still crossing your arms. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Don’t let me go outside looking crazy just because you’re scared I’ll be mad at you.”

“You don’t have that many bad days..so I’m safe.”

Oh, he fucked up with that one.

“Excuse me?? So there’s been days where I looked a hot mess and you didn’t think to mention it?” You leaned in and gave him a cold stare, feeling your irritation grow. There was no winning this for him and you both knew it. Yet he still looked at you with a soft smile – infatuated with every part of you. Trent scratched his head and laughed awkwardly, trying to quickly think of something that wouldn’t have you interrogating him. “Uh...no? That’s not what I meant. You just –”

Before he could dig a deeper hole, you heard the boys downstairs shouting at the top of their lungs about the basketball game.

“THAT’S WHAT I’M FUCKING TALKING ABOUT! LET’S GOOOO! TOO EASY!” Tyler yelled with way too much excitement. The other two joined in, clapping loudly and yelling way too much for your liking. You gave the nastiest eye roll and sighed. “I know it’s not that fucking serious..” you snapped, feeling your patience wearing thinner. “They’re being so loud..and for what? It’s just basketball.”

“It’s a pretty intense game, baby.” Trent tried to explain, but he was amused by your irritability and started laughing at you, much to your displeasure.

“Trent..get out. You’re annoying me so bad right now. Nothing’s funny.”

His smile faded and he moved his hands to your hips, pushing you up against the wall as he stared into your soul. “You wanna try saying that again?”

You let out an exasperated breath, looking at him like he was stupid. You weren’t in the mood for any of his nonsense, so you didn’t back down with the sass. “I said you’re annoying me. Get the fuck out.” You waved your hand toward the door, fully expecting him to just laugh and walk away, but instead he pinned your arms above you. 

“Not keen on that tone of yours” he said in a low voice, his eyes challenging you.

You wanted to say something back, but you couldn’t think of anything witty when you saw the dominating way he was looking at you. You tried to keep your voice steady, but you started stammering over your words. “T-trent. Seriously...just go.”

“Yeah? You want me to go back downstairs? Say it like you mean it then.” he murmured, daring you to push back. He kissed your neck, making you suck in your breath. “I thought you said you needed my help?”

“Trent…we’re not the only people in the house,” you whispered shakily, trying to mask the effect he was having on you. “We can’t.”

“I don’t give a fuck. This is our house.” he breathed against your neck, pulling your skirt up to grip your ass. “Just be quiet for me, yeah? Let me show you how beautiful you are.”

You bit your lip, nodding as he took the set off of you. He guided you forward to position you in front of the mirror, staring back at your naked reflection. Your heart raced as Trent’s hands trailed down your sides. His breath ghosted over your neck and goosebumps appeared on your body when he whispered against your skin, his gaze staring deeply back at your reflection through the mirror. “Eyes on the mirror, baby. Just keep watching. Don’t look away.” He nudged your legs apart with his foot and slipped his long fingers between the folds of your pussy, gliding through the warmth easily with a sensual touch that made you tuck your lips in, struggling to hold back a moan. His hand kept working you and all you could do was stare at the reflective glass while he continued with hunger in his eyes.

“See?” he murmured, dipping his head to kiss the curve of your shoulder while his other hand moved to pull his shorts down. “I told you..” you could feel his dick spring free and push up against your entrance, “you’re beautiful. Now be a good girl for me.” You felt his lips twitch into a grin against your skin, savouring the face you made when he positioned himself to tease you before sliding inside; his dick deliciously filled you up and left you on the verge of moaning loudly.

“Trent..” you gasped, struggling as he began his thrusts in a smooth rhythm, each stroke more intense than the last. “I can’t..” You barely managed to get those three words out, much to his satisfaction based on the smirk you saw on his face in the mirror.

“Yes you can. Arch your back for me, pretty girl.” He slowed his thrusts to a teasing pace to pull your arms behind your back, leaving you squirming as you attempted to arch your back like he told you to. 

Once he started thrusting into you again, you couldn’t hold back any longer and you moaned louder than you wanted to, but you couldn’t control the way he was making you feel; your head fell forward which made your eyes drift from the mirror. Trent stopped and one hand left your arms to grip your chin, lifting it to make you meet your reflection again.

“Nuh uh. Watch yourself.” he commanded. “I can edge you all night. Your choice.”

You nodded, wide eyed with tears streaming down your face from the intensity of it all as he resumed. He increased his pace, using his grip on your hands to buck into you harder. A string of expletives left your lips in a whimper and one hand left your arms to smack your ass. “Shhh..you can take it baby.”

“Mmm fuck,” you hissed, loving the stinging sensation. Your lips parted when you saw him look down to watch the recoil of your ass from his relentless thrusts. He looked back up at you through the mirror and gave you a sinful smirk and then licked his lips.

“T..oh my god” you whispered, catching your own eyes in the mirror when you saw how fucked out of your mind you looked. Your breaths came out in shallow gasps but he kept thrusting, knowing you were getting closer.

“Best view in the house. Y’know that?”

You were struggling to hold back, feeling the tightness in your core winding like a musical box. Trent’s grip on your arms tightened and held you in place as he pushed you to the brink of seventh heaven, but just as you were about to orgasm, he stopped. A strangled cry escaped your lips as tears continued to stream down your face. You tried to push up against him but he stilled you and released your hands. He snaked one arm around your waist while the other hand trailed up to grip your neck.

“You still think I’m annoying?” he whispered in your ear in a teasing, commanding tone as he held you against him. You shook your head ‘no’ in a dazed state, but he wasn’t satisfied with a half answer, he wanted to hear you.

“Say it” he softly commanded again, searing his gaze at you through the mirror. “Talk to me.”

A breathy whine escaped as you tried to grind against him again, seeking the orgasm he was skillfully withholding from you. “Nooooo. You’re not annoying. Trent, pleaseee. I want to cum.”

He hummed in satisfaction, brushing his fingers over your jaw and pressing soft kisses along the side of your neck, trailing up to your jawline. Then he brought his eyes back to the mirror, tracing every detail of your blissed out face and the curves of your body.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, baby. See how pretty you look like this?” he asked, his voice hoarse. You nodded, barely holding back the sounds threatening to spill over. Fucking you was one thing, but fucking you while speaking to you in affirmations had you ready to soak him immediately.

“Yessss, I see it. Please Trent.” you whimpered, biting your lip. Any coherent thoughts you had were long gone. Your pleas drove him further and he picked up his pace, bringing you to the edge again; but this time the tension snapped. He could tell you were about to let out the most sinfully loud moan, so he moved his hand over your mouth, stifling your sounds as you came undone around him; each muscle quaking and pulsing around him with the strength of your orgasm.

“Oh shit,” he strained, struggling to hold back when he felt the way you were squeezing him. His body trembled and you felt his dick start to twitch around you, but you managed to grab his wrist and push up against his hip bone to signal him to pull out just in time. You dropped to your knees and let him finish in your mouth. You touched the patch of skin underneath his balls that always drove him crazy and he groaned your name loudly as he spilled into your mouth, but then his head fell back and hit the wall behind him.

“OW! Fucking hell!” He flinched and grabbed his head like he was just knocked out by the world’s heaviest boulder, making you giggle.

“Aww, you’re fine. So dramatic, aren’t we?” You rubbed the back of his head, pretending to check for any actual damage but you both knew there wasn’t any. You let out a playful sigh as you smoothed a hand over his curls and pulled his shorts back up before giving him a tender kiss on the lips. “Thank you, T...but you were supposed to be helping me with outfits.. not fucking me. Now go. I need to finish packing.”

He eyed you with a lazy grin, still trying to catch his breath. “I did help, though. Wear this one.” He pointed to the set that was now scattered across the floor. You scoffed, patting his chest. “Fine. I’ll wear that one. Now go back and watch Luka Donkick or whatever name they keep screaming about. I’m fine up here.”

Trent laughed and rubbed his head again. “Damn. Not even going to offer me any ice? AXA staff treat me better than my own girlfriend..that’s mad.”

You raised a brow, crossing your arms and flashing a smug smile. “Doubt that. I don’t think the physios have you moaning their names..and if you are moaning their names, I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Ahh, touché. You’re feisty today.” He laughed as he turned toward the door, giving you one last look before he went back downstairs. “I’m gonna see about extending the wardrobe for all your clothes.”

You rolled your eyes with a smirk as he disappeared downstairs, laughter and yelling from the boys followed shortly after. You glanced back at your reflection in the mirror, shaking your head and smiling with a loving glint in your eye. You were in a better mood all of a sudden, maybe all you needed was sex? Sometimes, all a girl needs is the attitude fucked out of her. 

You made your way to your suitcase to finish packing, and you opened it – noticing there was a notebook that looked eerily similar to the one you lost. It was pastel purple, but it looked brand new. You scrunched your brows in confusion, knowing you weren’t the one who put this notebook in your luggage. You noticed your first initial was etched into the front of the notebook, followed by the last two letters of Trent’s initials. He was still keeping up with his marriage joke, of course.

Huh? What is this…? That’s not my initials.

When you opened the notebook, there notes left on multiple pages. The handwriting was unmistakably Trent’s:

I don’t know what all you had written in your other one, but I memorised some things. Maybe we can figure out the rest together?

Me:

Lavender

Geranium

Apple & Mandarin Orange

Vanilla

Cedar & Guaiac Wood

Sandalwood

You:

Vanilla?

Amber maybe?

I smelt marshmallows too I think?

Something else sweet..can’t figure it out yet

Us:

Bergamot 

Cardamom 

Pistachio 

Ylang Ylang 

Jasmine 

Tuberose 

Tonka Bean & Coconut 

??? 

???

I read the other notebook a lot while you were sleeping..wanted to learn how your brain works a little more. Hopefully this one will be just as useful.

I love you for as long as the stars shine, my forever.

- T

You were shocked he wrote down the notes for the fragrance you were testing on him; you couldn’t remember all of the notes yourself, yet somehow he figured them out with his own nose. 

Of course he’s annoyingly good at my job too. What can’t this boy do? 

Finding yourself getting lost in the notebook, you read the notes and doodles he jotted down. He clearly spent a lot of time on this and his doodles were amateur at best, but adorably his. You ran your hands over his words, pausing on a drawing he added under one of the pages – it was a stick figure version of himself grinning beside a smaller stick figure of you. His figure held a football and yours held a perfume bottle – both of the figures hand in hand. Next to that, he drew what looked like a squiggly outline of Les Notes d’Amour and a bunch of happy stick figures lined up outside. Up above the stick figures, there was a tiny sun partially hidden by the moon with lines radiating around it like a beam of light. He tried shading the moon with messy scribbles to make it stand out against the sun. You could practically imagine him frowning and biting his lip in concentration, adding little details to make it as realistic as he could. It was almost poetic and made you feel like you were over the moon with joy. Maybe he didn’t mean to be so deep, but it felt like a symbolic capture of what you both found in each other: an unlikely pairing threaded by fate that just...worked. 

You curled up with the notebook in bed, flipping through the pages and studying each detail Trent added with the type of focus usually only reserved for when you were at work. His handwriting was beautiful and his careful lettering reflected the amount of effort he used to write everything down for you. All the notes, doodles, and quirky additions had you smiling so hard that your cheeks hurt. Maybe you didn’t need the old notebook...this one was better. The longer you looked, the heavier your eyelids grew; eventually the lines and scribbles of his handwriting blurred together. You kept telling yourself you would read just one more page, but before you knew it, you drifted off to sleep still clutching the notebook in your hands. 

Hours later in the night, Trent pulled you from your sleep with his voice. It was edged with unusual seriousness. “Y/N.” He shook you gently, trying to get your attention. “Wake up.”

“Hmm?” you murmured, still half asleep.

“Why is there a pregnancy test in the bathroom?” His voice was steady, but there was a thread of concern in his tone. There were only two girls in the house at the moment – Ezzie and you, he knew it couldn’t be for your sister. It had to be for you.

Your eyes immediately flew open and the grogginess vanished in a second. Your heart sank when you realized you left the test laying around. You didn’t want him to find out this way. You sat up in bed, avoiding his gaze because you felt cornered.

“Uhh...I’m just a little late,” you mumbled, trying not to let the conversation spiral out of control. “But I’ve been cramping so...I probably won’t even need it. It’s fine..no big deal.” You tried to sound casual about it, but you were rationalizing more with yourself than him. Trent nodded, slowly absorbing the new information, but he still looked worried. The dots were starting to connect for him like little constellations in the sky: the moodiness, the sass, your strange cravings for sweets and salty snacks. He noticed the bloat too, but as a man he knew better than to mention that. Plus, he loved whatever your body looked like. He didn’t care.

“You can still take it, right? Just check.” he said softly, studying your reaction. “May be better to go ahead and get it over with for peace of mind for both of us.”

You looked down, fiddling with your shaking hands as you tried to think of an excuse. “I’m really tired Trent.” you whispered, not being able to meet his eyes. “I’ll take it in the morning before I leave. I promise.” Procrastinating for a few more hours seemed logical to you at the moment since you were scared of what the result could be. He sighed, torn between wanting to press you further but not wanting to push you into an anxious spiral. Finally, he nodded and placed the test back on the counter before returning to bed to lay beside you to go to sleep.

--

The next morning, you woke up still feeling anxious. You were up at the crack of dawn, unable to sleep any longer. You grabbed your phone, hoping a doom scroll through social media would be enough to calm your nerves...but it made it worse. The moment you opened Instagram your heart plummeted to your ass. SpillTheBeansUK made a post about you, claiming to have a verified anonymous source confirming your pregnancy. 

-

SpillTheBeansUK 🚨💥 EXCLUSIVE ALERT 💥🚨 Y/N PREGNANT WITH TAA’S BABY?! 👶🏽🍾 According to a very reliable source (you know we love a verified anonymous tip 👀), it looks like Y/N and Trent Alexander-Arnold might be entering their PARENT ERA! 💫 We can’t confirm specifics just yet but we’ve seen proof there’s a little Scouser on the way. ALLEGEDLY 😳

-

You read through the comments, not letting a single thought of yours settle. You never told anyone besides Camille and Trent. Trent wouldn’t send that in himself, that would be ridiculous.

But Camille...she wouldn’t. Would she?

You sprung out of bed to make your way to the bathroom to FaceTime Camille, not even checking the hour. You held your breath until she answered, her face popped up with tousled hair and a pillow crease on her cheek. It didn’t look like she was at home.

“Camille,” you hissed before she could even say hello. “Did you say something?! Have you seen STB’s post?!?”

She blinked back a couple of times, confused with your audacity to question her with something so ludicrous. “What?? NO! Why would I–” She paused and looked away from the screen for a little too long. Your eyes narrowed as you waited for her to finish, tapping your nails impatiently on the edge of the unopened pregnancy test box. She finally looked back at the screen, whispering. “Y/N, I would NEVER,” she insisted, but you could tell by her voice that she knew exactly why you were asking.

You took a deep breath, trying to hold back a long rant. “Why are they saying there’s a ‘verified source’ then? I only told you and Trent..he wouldn’t send something like that to them.”

Camille yawned and stretched out her arm. “That page makes up stuff half the time..they’re probably just running with some random rumour that just so happens to be close to something accurate this time around.” In the background, you could faintly hear voices from a Spanish TV show. This was definitely not Camille’s house, but you let it slide for now.

“Um, no. Not accurate.” You held up the pregnancy test box in front of the camera. “I haven’t taken it yet.”

“Anddd…why not? Why are you dragging it like this?”

You groaned, feeling embarrassment and nerves churning around in your stomach. “Because...if I don’t take it..there’s zero percent chance I’m pregnant until I feel a kick or something, right? But if I take it right now, there’s a fifty percent chance and those odds are way too fucking high right now.” You knew your logic was flawed and sounded more like girl math, but it felt true enough in the moment. “Camille..I really don’t think a baby on my hip is a cute look for me. That’s definitely not my type of lifestyle right now. I’d rather have a dog or something.”

Camille snorted, shaking her head. “Girl..just take the damn test. You sound insane right now.” You knew she was right, so you groaned again and opened the test to read the tiny lettered instructions line by line – you were procrastinating again. Camille rolled her eyes with impatience. “Babe, it’s not rocket science,” she said with a smirk while watching you fumble with the instructions. “Just dip the stick and wait for a couple of minutes until it pops up. Two lines is a yes..one line is a no. You can’t mess it up.”

Her attempt at humour didn’t really ease your nerves but it gave you the final push. With a deep breath, you tore the test open and took it. The next few minutes of waiting for the results to load felt like agony. Who knew three minutes could feel like an eternity. You had the test face down until your timer went off; with a deep sigh you flipped it back over and took a hard glance.

“Oh. My. God.” you covered your mouth, gasping in shock as the results popped up.

“WHAT DOES IT SAY?!?! Don’t edge me like this, girl!” Camille half whispered, half yelled through the screen as if she was trying not to wake someone. You were shaking, almost crying while you stared at the results.

“Wait....is it positive?” she asked, reading your reaction to gauge the results.

You took a deep breath and held up the test in view of the screen, shaking your head. “It’s negative!” you shouted, grinning as relief washed over your face. “Oh my days..I swear I saw my whole life flash before my eyes in those three minutes. Imagine me waking up and there’s a tiny version of Trent staring back at me and pulling at my boobs for milk? In this mess?? Absolutely not.” You patted your stomach, thankful the bloat was likely just a PMS symptom. “Thank you for not betraying me, ovaries.”

Camille burst out laughing, covering her mouth to muffle the sound. “They would probably have his eyes, huh? A googly eyed gremlin running around would be so wild.” she snorted, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “Thank god though. Now we can get back to our regularly scheduled madness.” Just as she said that, you noticed there was someone resting their head on her chest with a silky durag tied around their hair.

“Camille...where are you right now? you asked, arching a brow once you realized.

A guilty grin spread across her face. “Barcelona. And before you ask – yes, I am laying in Jules’ bed right now,” she said in a playfully sheepish tone. “He wanted me to fly out for a shoot, okay? That’s all you need to know, babe.” She tilted her head, winking as she ran her nails across the silk on his head. “You know the vibes.”

You giggled, shaking your head at her antics. “Well..I’m glad the French we learned is coming in handy for you outside of the perfume world.” You paused before adding a teasing statement. “La Liga, though? That’s going to get real interesting for El Clásico. I don’t think Jude will appreciate that very much.” Camille stifled her laughter but then stuck her middle finger out at the screen in a playful manner. “Fuck Jude. He’ll get over it.”

After chatting with Camille for a few more minutes, you wrapped up the call to eavesdrop when you heard Trent and your brother’s voice down the hall. They were being very hush-hush about something and it piqued your curiosity. You crept down the hallway, stopping just out of sight to catch bits of Trent and Ziggy’s conversation.

“Yeah, I know what to do.” Ziggy said, sounding more grown up and certain than you had ever heard him before.

“Looking forward to it, mate. I’ll let ‘em know.” Trent replied, pulling Ziggy in for a quick brotherly hug. You were suspicious but you brushed it off, chalking it up to the bond they reignited after the gala. After a while, you couldn't resist breaking into their huddle, so you crept up on Trent and poked his sides with your index fingers, making him jolt in surprise.

“Congrats, you’re not a daddy yet! Just checked. I think we should try for a cute puppy instead, maybe.” you whispered into his ear, adding a cheeky smile. Relief flickered across his face and you wrapped your arms around him, shifting your head to the side to narrow your eyes at Ziggy. “What are you two yapping about now?”

Ziggy looked like he was caught red handed but he recovered quickly and shrugged with a smile. “Uh, nothing. Just footie bants,” he replied innocently, but it seemed like more than that. He changed the subject quickly and put his focus back on Trent.

“Hey, can I stream on your gaming rig? Gonna play some FIFA and maybe some Val with Marcel.”

Trent shrugged and gave him a radiant smile, “You know you don’t have to ask, right? We’re brothers now.” Him and Ziggy dove into the most ridiculously overly complicated handshake you ever saw in your life, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the sheer absurdity.

“Why are you stealing my man?” you asked your brother, sticking your tongue out at him playfully.

Ziggy didn’t skip a beat and fired back before making his way to Trent’s gaming PC. “I found him first” he quipped with the same protective tone he used when you were walking home from the park the day you asked what the older boys’ name was.

Trent turned around and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you in for a soft embrace. “Thank you for the notebook” you murmured, pressing a gentle kiss on his lips. “Didn’t know I had a ‘nose’ as a boyfriend now. I don’t even remember using a marshmallow note...how did you figure that out?” Trent gave you a sly smile as he glanced at you with pride twinkling in his eyes. “I’m learning a little something” he teased, gently squeezing your sides in a similar way you did to him earlier. He looked at his watch and then back at you. “Ready to head out?”

Much to your dismay, taking the train to London was out of the question nowadays. The block was too hot and you were garnering a lot more attention than you did before you met Trent. Being the best boyfriend he could be, he graciously booked a private car service for you and Ezzie. It would be a long drive, but you were thankful he took the time to cater to your needs.

A few hours later, you and Ezzie arrived at New Bond Street in Mayfair. The street was lined with designer boutiques and prestigious brands like Alaïa, Hermes and Burberry to exude luxury that was just as quintessentially London as the red telephone booths dotting the city. Snazzily dressed passerbyers strolled around with designer bags in hand, some holding takeaway coffees from nearby cafés, others glancing at window displays that looked more like curated art galleries than store fronts. The faint sound of heels clicking against the pavement mingled with the ambiance of the street as Ezzie took the scene in, barely able to contain her excitement. Her gaze flickered from storefront to storefront, enchanted by the scene. 

“Oh my days, I’m sooooo excited!” she squealed, bouncing around as she latched onto your arm. “Thank you, thank you, thank youuu! You’re the best sister ever!” She repeated with each step. Her enthusiasm was contagious and you smiled, feeling so overjoyed by seeing her happiness. She had been fashion obsessed since she was a child, so this opportunity was a dream come true for her.

As you scanned the high end stores and their shining windows around you, your thoughts drifted to Trent. A gift felt appropriate for everything he did for you. He was your rock and never once let the chaos of his world intrude on you any farther than it needed to. You wanted to buy him something as a thank you...maybe a watch? You made a mental note to stop in a boutique nearby after the event.

“Are you really pregnant?” Ezzie’s sudden question jolted you out of your thoughts, her voice was lower but it was clear she was curious after seeing SpillTheBeansUK’s post. She must’ve noticed the curious glances you were getting as well. “I thought you said you would never give a boy a baby before a –”

“I’m not pregnant! It’s just a rumour,” you said quickly, hoping to shut down the conversation for now. You still couldn’t shake the possibility of someone in your circle spilling tea about your pregnancy scare, but until you could figure out who it was...it was best not to talk about it with anyone, especially in public – whether you were pregnant or not. Ezzie looked disappointed for a split second, but nodded in understanding as you walked through the doors of Miu Miu.

Inside, the store was transformed from its usual modern look to a more lively setup with sections curated for content creation. Brand representatives moved between influencers and their mini entourages, offering champagne in glass flutes while discussing the different pieces on display. Racks of Miu Miu’s latest collection were arranged meticulously by color and style. You wanted it all, everything was so cute – especially the bags...but that wasn’t what you were here for. Your mum’s words left a fire fueling within you and there was no way you were walking out of the store without securing a deal for your sister. The brand was interested and had already made it clear once they checked Ezzie’s engagement rates on Instagram. The rep you spoke to was pretty receptive, nodding and jotting down notes as you spoke. They eventually agreed to all your terms without much negotiation needed at all.

“You can send the contract to my assistant, Ember. I’ll review and send back” you told the rep, sounding very much like a girlboss as you gave them her email. You glanced over at Ezzie who was chatting animatedly with another girl, she was definitely in her zone. You gave her a thumbs up and she responded with a happy squeal before mouthing another ‘thank you’ across the room.

Yeah, life was hectic for you. Stressful and overwhelming some days, but it was finally coming together. It was like both your world and Trent’s had finally merged into a new universe where you could both belong and exist together. You were in a good mood for once, so you took out your phone and posted a few pictures you took while in London:

Liked by trentarnold66, ohlacamille and others

yourusername: big city miu~sings

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trentarnold66: come home 😮‍💨🤤

yourusername: omw 😘🤍

ohlacamille: so gorg!! obsessed w you

ezziebee: why can’t I like this twice?

judebellingham: 🔥🔥🔥

brasilgurl1: vc é ouro  (you’re gold)

y/nstan: you know you’ve reached icon status when the brasileiros gas you up in the comments

trentarnold66: my forever

reveur4vr: she has this man simping publicly and double commenting? congratulations 😭❤️

miumiu: excited for what we have planned next!

yourusername: sooo excited!

itstara04_: 💌 for you

SpillTheBeansUK: forever or never?

--

After wrapping up at Miu Miu, you and Ezzie strolled over to another storefront on Regent Street – it was a boutique that specialized in timeless pieces that would make anyone swoon. Regent Street was much like Bond Street and featured a blend of luxury and history in its architecture. People bustled along the pavement, dressed in an array of styles with tourists stopping to snap photos while London locals walked along hurriedly, each on their own mission.

When you stepped inside the store, you were greeted by a polished ambiance. There were rows of glass cases filled with watches, rings and jewellery that glistened under the warm lighting. There were different sections carved out for different types of jewellery like classic rings, wedding bands, and intricate limited edition timepieces.

The watch you chose for Trent was a Patek Philippe timepiece with a midnight blue dial that featured a moon phase indicator. It was the perfect watch considering the full moon had become something special between the two of you, even when you were separated across cities you would both look up at it, knowing your other half was seeing the same silver glow above a star studded sky.

On one particular night, you and Trent stayed back after a match to watch the full moon at a very empty Anfield. It was a lot quieter without the chants from fans filling the stadium, and the moon hung up high to bathe the pitch in its luminescent beauty. Nestled into Trent’s jacket, you leaned against him for warmth. You tilted your head to look at him, smiling. “How do you remember every single full moon?” you asked playfully, giving him a soft nudge on his arm. “Are you Zeus, God of the Sky?”

Trent chuckled with his gaze fixed on the moon as he wrapped his arm around you to keep you warm. “Nah” he mumbled in a hushed tone, like he didn’t want to disturb the moon’s beauty. “I have it on a calendar.” He glanced down at you with a sweet smile. “I know it’s calming for you..and the view’s not bad either.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone to capture the moment. The moon felt abnormally large that night as it hung over the pitch, its lighting spilling over both of you. It was breathtakingly stunning and was surrounded by scattered stars like diamonds on velvet, each one faintly glimmering in the dark.

Trent angled the camera up to capture it all: the silent stadium, a sweeping arc of empty seats, the pitch bathed in silvery light, and the two of you – side by side, framed by the vastness above. In the picture, both of you were smiling with your heads leaning together underneath the backdrop of the sky – like a tiny time capsule to commemorate your relationship. Just as he snapped the photo, the sprinklers from the irrigation system burst to life and sent arcs of water over the grass, glistening like tiny crystals in the moonlight.

“Oh shit! Run!” Trent shouted with laughter roaring through his chest as he grabbed your hand to pull you towards the tunnel. Both of you sprinted across the field together as laughter echoed around Anfield, water droplets scattering in every direction. Halfway there, your foot slipped on the wet grass but before you hit the ground, Trent scooped you up with a wide grin and carried you the rest of the way. When you both finally made it to the dry shelter of the tunnel, both of you were absolutely drenched.

“You’re a terrible defender” you teased, laughing as water dripped down your face.

He laughed with you, shaking his head as he set you down. “That’s absolute rubbish and you know it.”

After purchasing the watch, your attention shifted over to a nearby case filled with rings. Your eyes locked onto a delicate diamond band. It was subtle, not too flashy..but incredibly stunning. You felt drawn to it in the same magnetic way you felt drawn to Trent, like the threads of fate had your name engraved on the inside of it. One of the staff took the ring out of the display case and before you knew it, the ring was on your left ring finger. It looked gorgeous against your skin and sat so perfectly on your finger that it felt like more than just good sizing – it felt serendipitous. The ring looked like it belonged to you, like it had been waiting for this exact moment to slip onto your ring finger. You admired it for a little while longer before snapping a joking picture to send to Trent – keeping up with his ongoing marriage jokes.

Maybe MRS does have a nice ring to it 😋💍

Ezzie peeked over your shoulder, grinning as she read the text and made a mental note of the ring size. You didn’t notice it, but she was in on something you had no idea about.

“If Trent proposed..would you say yes?” she asked inquisitively.

The question caught you a bit off guard which made you laugh nervously. You paused for a minute, genuinely thinking about what you would say if he did ask, but then you shrugged. “Hmm..maybe I’d consider it like a year from now,” you stated plainly, turning your hand to catch more of the sparkle from the gems under the light. “There’s just way too much going on right now to be planning a wedding, y’know?” Ezzie gave you a nod, but you didn’t catch her shoot a quick text to someone when she glanced at the ring one more time. She sighed, playing along casually. “Yeah, timing is everything,” she replied. Little did you know, Ezzie had a mission of her own and was tasked with gathering intel on your ring size and how you felt about a proposal.

Then your phone pinged with a response from Trent:

T: What size is that? What store?

You rolled your eyes, knowing he was probably being serious before typing your response:

Wouldn’t you love to know

T: Worth a shot 🤷‍♂️

He was one step ahead of you though.

Always.

Down to the timeline.

if you made it this far, thank you for reading! i appreciate each and every one of you who take the time out to read my creations.

song inspo:

[sevenop]

Billie Eilish x Fem!reader: Fever

A/n: You fall into a strange fever dream, burning from the temperature. You wake up next to her, burning again, but now a sense of shame.

Inspired by the song "hostage."

You open your eyes half-asleep time after time, and the first thing you see is the invigorating coolness of her eyes, where you want to dive in headfirst.

"I would love to drown in you," you babble in a fever delirium, and Billie smiles knowingly gently, laying you back down. You feel her firm hand on your back before plopping back down on the sheets. The bed seems to be getting endless.

"Don't strain yourself until I get you some tea," her hand touches your forehead and a silver snake of sadness runs in her eyes for a second. - "You're hot as hell again."

"Of course, I'm right next to you!" - God! You'll be so embarrassed when the mercury column slowly creeps downward, releasing you from the captivity of the fever, mark my word.

"Little fool," - a smile and a pleasant chuckle adorning the next precious verbal clarification. - "My little fool."

Billie goes off to get another mug of green tea, the amount of which makes you feel nauseous, as if you were standing on the deck of a seagoing ship with your hands resting miserably on the rail. A new wave of heat sweeps over you and makes you want to peel off your skin, to say nothing of your ill-fated home T-shirt. Covering your eyes is the worst idea imaginable. The ceiling or any other interior object you throw your tired gaze at, zooms in at an imaginary x4 zoom. This only makes your ship rock more, causing more misery. You hear the button of the electric kettle in the kitchen click and the spoon rattle against the walls of the full cup. God, not the green tea...

Eilish returns with the mug in hand, sets it on the wooden stand resting on the bedside table. You watch as the green surface of the herbal tea reaches almost the most ceramic edges and your appearance becomes deader than dead.

"I understand, my heart," Eilish's hand accurate strokes your face, and you only caress closer because her hand is so cool and just because it's her, Billie.

"I'm going to throw out all the green tea in our house."

Billie nods and assures you of her help as swornly as if you were two partners in crime dumping a corpse in the river.

"We'll have a Boston Tea Party together, you just get better."

She bends down to touch your lips with her own, but you immediately put your hand on her shoulder, resisting. The previously sluggish muscles are now as tense as possible. Eilish meets your categorical "no" again, which is the only stoic thought in your infernal delirium.

"I don't want you to get sick." - Eilish doesn't make any extra effort, but you're in no hurry to remove your hand from her shoulder either, just in case.

"Please." - An ingratiating, pitiful whisper crawls into your skull, mingling with the sickening heat. Reality slowly slips away from you again, and Billie leans a little closer to you, participating as your muscles loosen again. - "I've missed your lips so damn much these past three days, Y/n. I miss being in bed without you at night so much."

"No." - you catch her sad look overriding all prudence and something breaks inside. You hastily try to make things a little better. - "Not until the temperature breaks."

Eilish sighs, but tacitly agrees to your condition. It's not clear what prompted her to do this more - the string of interviews next week or just a deep moistening to your wishes. It seems to be all of the above together. The sadness from her eyes travels over her entire face, freezing her like a mask: the corners of her plump lips are lowered, and the inner corners of her straight eyebrows are raised upward and slightly drawn together. Your resolve cracks, and you soften your sentence a little.

"If..." - The line is suddenly torn by a fit of your dry cough as you reach for the pills on the nightstand. - "If you take some antivirals, I think you can lie next to me for a while."

Billie's face shines brighter than the many gold figurines on her living room shelf, which will soon run out of room. She immediately scrambles out of her seat on your bed and disappears into the gradual silence of the house, retreating to the bathroom. You wash down the bitter pills with green tea, drowning in the world's sorrow with each sip, and fall back tiredly. You cover your eyes and return from a state of half-awakeness, only when you feel something fall sharply to your left on the bed: Billie is back and the smile on her face simply cannot be erased by anything in the world, which greatly alleviates the bitterness of any colorful pills.

"Do you want me to put some vinyl record on in the background?"

You nod, a little suspended in your thoughts, while she's already going through a lot of records. The albums slap against each other amusingly as Billie flips them back, as if digging through a filing cabinet. Slap, slap.

"Any number from one to forty?" - her neat fingers freeze in anticipation of your answer.

"Seven." - You squint, and yellow and red flashes flash before your eyes, giving you some sort of foreboding feeling. Eilish hums and you look at her with interest, lifting yourself up and folding your legs into a lotus position on the bed. She raises her arm as proudly as if it were a flagpole, and her flag cloth is indeed yellow and red. The "Don't smile at me" vinyl. The hunch really worked.

"You love me so much that you only pick my songs?" - she purrs contentedly like a cat, deftly pulling out an iridescent, two-color CD. Yellow and red echo the gamut of the cover and the smell of lemon and strawberries suddenly hits your nose. Sometimes you feel like the more you live with Billie, the more you feel this artificial synesthesia clinging to you.

The glass lid swings back, reflecting the rays of the setting sun from the window, and the record lies flat in its proper place. Billie gently lowers the turntable claw, and with a click of the button the needle runs leisurely along the embossed tracks of the record, filling the room with the sounds of her own voice, but younger and not as strong as it is now. Eilish is slightly embarrassed, and it's so beautiful to you.

"I love you always." - you spread your arms out to the side, inviting her in. - "Come here."

Billie smiles, settles on the bed with you and practically agrees to your terms, but adjusts them slightly. While you are sick, she is your caring big spoon, no objections. You feel the warmth of her body against your back as she chops the rhythm of a playful "my boy" with her fingers, hear her soft soprano entwining your heart with a satin ribbon as she intimately sings "party favor" in your ear and endlessly kissing your entire face, except for your lips, of course, which you have vetoed. You're basically her little spoon most of the time, though she so pleasantly loses and relents when you masterfully take the reins of leadership into your own hands.

"Rest, my girl," she whispers affectionately, biting you on the lobe (revenge for the kissing ban), "I'll be right there."

And with the first chords of "ocean eyes", filled with her two-voice, you fall into slumber.

×××

"I wanna steal your soul," - the hems of Eilish's white robes sweep upward slightly as she dives predatorily toward you, kneeling down for eye contact. - "And hide you in my treasure chest."

The two of you are in some incomprehensible space, where dark emptiness and the cool ripples of water on the floor coexist peacefully. You are the water-chained prisoner kneeling on your knees, she is your personal devil. The loneliness shared by two and the coolness of the water. Nothing more.

Eilish's lips bend in a tempting smile, so devilishly seductive that you feel attraction mixed with fear of incomprehension as goosebumps run through your body. Strangely, you freeze under her gaze, filled with Edenic blueness, and she just stares at you silently, and you don't try to free your hands behind your back again. The water chains no longer rattle.

She bends down a little closer to you and touches your neck with her lips gently, almost weightlessly - she leaves her mark on you. It feels like your body is being hit by a high-voltage current, although you are physically fine.

"What do you want from me?" - you mutter softly, not taking your dumbfounded gaze away from her. It is still unclear where you are, whether this is reality or something else, but the coolness unobtrusively enveloping you is pleasantly soothing. As if you needed it.

"Let me crawl inside your veins, I'll build a wall, give you a ball and chain," - she rises to her feet, towering over you. Her words have a musical tune to them that draws you in even more. And indeed: one click and you feel the weight of the water collar around your neck. Another click, and then she lifts you up, yanking you by the chain of the collar that appeared out of nowhere. It doesn't hurt at all. - "It's not like me to be so mean."

You reach up to her face to make sure it's just a dream. Your fingertips twitch with excitement, but Eilish walks calmly toward your thought and actions, her cheek resting against your palm. Devils dance in her blue eyes. It is completely tangible. You yank your hand away, like accidentally fell under a stream of boiling water, reflexively examine your palm and only further nurture the seed of confusion in the depths of your soul. O'Connell is still smiling the same way.

"What is it...?"

"Gold on your fingertips," - she approaches you with a soft step, like a misty haze over water, - "fingertips against my cheek."

"Say, I'm asleep now, aren't I?"

Billie shrugs her shoulders in a childishly funny way, and it seems to you that she really sincerely does not know what to say. Her hand gently touches your shoulder while the other finally weakness the tangle of water chains, opening up to you a great variability in the distance. In the end, you decide to relax, despite the curiosities of the environment: You trust Billie even in your sleep. She does not utter a single word, just looks at you with some mysterious note in her eyes, and the answer to her dumb question already comes into your head, which you are in a hurry to denounce in words.

"I don't know what feels true," - your lips almost touch hers, so close together, - "But this feels right so stay a sec."

"Gold leaf across your lips," - the chain rattles, the free end touching the water surface, which is why circles began to form on the surface under you, driven by the white foam of the splash. Both her hands gently touch your face, without pressure, but you feel that you personally want to obey her completely. Through her beautiful raven-colored hair, falling over her face, you catch a glint of precious yellowish luster: gold is spilling on her cheek, which you recently touched, resembling a thin twig. Her eyes hungrily catch the glare, as if turning greenish. So mesmerizing. - "Kiss me until I can't speak..."

You feel the heat on your lips and wake up.

×××

The record has stopped playing, the room is completely silent, and Eilish is kissing your lips more unabashedly than ever before. After such a strange dream, you juxtapose reality so difficult that you pull away in consternation at only the third kiss. Billie laughs loudly, bringing you back into her arms. You frankly remind her of a chicken just out of its shell. Slightly disheveled and completely lost.

"You were mumbling in your sleep and I couldn't find a better way to wake you up." - her voice sounds so playful that you don't even need to turn around to see her confident-skanky face. - "Foreshadowing your concern - your forehead is absolutely not hot. The fever's gone down."

"Such a crazy dream..." - you snuggle into her shoulder, and she's only glad, pulling you closer to her.

"I don't know what feels true?" - you see her eyebrow raise ironically. The gears in your head wind up, returning to their usual healthy mode and you bounce on the bed again, nearly falling off it from the weight of understanding the situation.

You experienced her song "hostage" in your fever dream and even spoke lines from it out loud! Oh my god...

Billie realizes just in time to keep your still sluggish but recovering body from an incredibly "pleasant" encounter with the floor: her hand deftly grips your waist and pulls you back. She smiles just as she did in your dream and you're instantly pierced by the ubiquitous lightning bolt of deja vu.

"Will you tell me more about it? Maybe we can even do it again?"

In her humble (no) opinion, your face in color now resembles the most beautiful pink rose while your state of mind is completely withdrawn under the aegis of feeling embarrassed. And before you can open your mouth, choosing words to describe the dream, she kisses you. With a groan of long-awaited pleasure and absolutely no modesty.

[babychosen]

amangela meetcute for your prompts

word count: 1025

After finishing a Moon Goon performance, Angela and a few of the group members stayed back in the audience and chatted with a few friends that came to support them. By the time they finished talking, it was nearly time for the next scheduled show to start, so she rushed backstage to gather her things and get the hell out of the theater.

Angela hated getting in the way of the next performers because she knew how cramped the dressing room at UCB could get in between shows. 

She scurried backstage and paused in the doorway of the dressing room, trying to recall where she left her jacket and bag. She scanned the room while she weaved around the new performers, casually exchanging greetings with a few familiar faces. Her eyes landed on the couch near the back of the room, and she saw the faintest shine of her leather jacket draped across the back of the couch.

Angela made a mental note to remind herself to wear her glasses more often because it took way too long, and way too much squinting just to find her belongings in the small room.

After Angela was done talking to a few performers in the room, someone sat down on the couch right in front of her jacket. She froze in her spot. Great, Angela thought. Now she had to go through the awkward confrontation of telling this person they were sitting on her jacket.

She looked a little harder, just to see if she recognized the person. Angela gulped after taking in their appearance; now she had to ask the most gorgeous stranger she’s ever seen to move so she could get her jacket.

Angela fidgeted in place and thought about it. Surely she didn’t need her jacket, right? She could just go home and then get it the next time she’s there… right? Her jacket had her car keys in it, and she sure as hell wasn’t taking the bus home from downtown Hollywood… so her options were very limited.

Like ripping off a band-aid, Angela crossed the room and stood in front of the woman. “Hey, so,” Angela started, pausing for a little too long.

“Hey! Angela, right?” The woman asked, a wide smile on her face. She gestured for Angela to take a seat beside her. “I’m Amanda.”

“Uh-” Angela cleared her throat. “Yeah, that’s me. How’d you know?” Angela sat down, feeling herself being pulled in by Amanda.

“Dude, you’re practically famous around here. You’re like, UCB royalty,” Amanda scoffed, chuckling at Angela’s modesty.

Angela knew she had made a name for herself in the LA comedy scene, but it felt surreal hearing it from someone she was so immediately drawn to.

“I’m kinda new to LA, just moved here from Boston last year,” Amanda explained. Angela hadn’t asked about who this woman was, but she was definitely curious. “I’ve been trying my luck down here with auditions, but it’s a tough crowd.”

The same pull that brought her to sit down beside Amanda, led her to want to offer Amanda support. “If you ever need help with making connections, let me know. I know my way around these parts pretty well,” Angela offered genuinely.

Amanda raised her eyebrows and shyly smiled. “I-I wouldn’t mind being shown around.” 

Amanda looked Angela up and down, and Angela couldn’t tell if she was imagining it being suggestive or if it actually was suggestive—either way, she wasn’t mad about it.

They were taken out of their bubble when people started clearing out of the room, and it was obvious that their conversation had to come to an end.

“I’ll see you later?” Amanda questioned, standing up from the couch.

Angela nodded excitedly with a tight-lipped smile, and then watched Amanda walk away from her. Amanda paused in the doorway to turn around and wave goodbye to the woman still glued to the couch.

She stared at the door for longer than she needed to, going over the conversation in her head. Angela was flattered and awestruck, and she had butterflies in her stomach.

Finally, she stood up from the couch, grabbed her jacket and bag and made her way towards the stage exit door. Once outside in the cool night air, Amanda’s words dawned on her—see you later. Later… when? After the show? At another encounter determined by fate? The instructions were unclear and Angela’s critical thinking skills weren’t kicking in.

In her panic, she spent the next hour walking around the neighbourhood, stopping by an ice cream shop, and hanging out around the stage door, waiting for Amanda to be done with her show. 

Near the one hour mark she began pacing outside of the stage door. Just ask her. Ask for her number. It’s fucking easy, Angela thought to herself.

In a blur, the stage door bursted open and Amanda came storming out—or at least it felt like it all happened that dramatically to Angela.

“Yeah-uh, yeah. I'm still here. Yep. Sure am,” Angela stuttered, cutting herself off before she could make a complete fool of herself.

“Oh, hey! I didn’t think you would still be here,” Amanda beamed, shoving her hands into her jeans pockets and walking up to Angela. She looked even more stunning than she did an hour earlier, Angela noted.

“There’s a bar around the corner. You free?” Amanda raised an eyebrow and the corner of her lips curled up into a smile. Angela knew exactly which bar Amanda was referring to.

First she got out of having to ask Amanda to move so she could get her jacket, and now she just got out of having to ask for her number—and she’s going out for drinks with her? Yeah, okay, Angela wasn’t going to say no. She smirked and started taking steps backwards from Amanda in the direction of the bar.

“Shall we?” Angela asked confidently, waiting for Amanda to follow.

“We shall,” Amanda drawled, jokingly holding out her hand for Angela to take. Angela graciously took her hand and led Amanda towards the bar, beginning what she had a feeling was going to be an amazing night.

[missredherring]

A Flower in February

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Rating: T

Word Count: 2k

Summary: When he’s finished cleaning the scrapes on your face his thumb swipes tenderly over the curve of your chin once.

“I'll take care of it.”

Contents: Boston QZ!Joel. mugging. hand-to-hand violence. whump. wound cleaning.

A/N: This is a my Secret Valentine gift for @hoeruiner.

I hope you like this, Sarah! I tried to keep it in line with the info you gave.

Thank you @covetyou for reading over this. <3

You only notice the date because you glance at the calendar to check when your next shift is on your way out of work. The calendar is old and yellowed, from before when holidays were still celebrated as special occasions and not memories. The red of the “14�� is faded too, but the color still draws your eye and sparks recognition in your brain. 

February 14th. Valentine’s Day. Huh. It’s depressing that your plans haven’t changed after 20 years and an apocalypse: going home after work with a good chance of spending the night alone. 

The ration cards stuffed in your jacket pocket cheer you up a little. Payday hasn’t changed either, and the ability to trade for questionably fresh groceries at the market tomorrow is something to look forward to. You head out into the dark streets of the QZ towards your apartment.

It’s fucking cold this time of year. The temperature barely rises even with a full day of sun, and it’s windy tonight too. There are piles of snow caught in the nooks and crannies of buildings and alleyways, radiating even more cold air. At least it isn’t tinged the same dirty gray-brown shade from before, with car exhaust and dirt kicked up by tires discoloring everything it touches. You’ll still find some of that on the main road, but not here in the backways that twist around the city. 

A gust of wind blows through and goes right through the heaviest jacket you own, chilling you to the bone. You grit your teeth and hunker down, trying to cover as much exposed skin as you can. That’s the only way you see it: the flash of vibrant color so out of place in a city that only has faded colors available. 

There, sticking through a chain link fence bordering what must have been a parking lot at some point but has grown over into a meadow, is a purple bloom of a flower. You take a few steps closer to get a better look. You’d crouch down, but with this cold seeping into your joints you might not be able to get back up, so you bend over awkwardly and try not to lock your knees. 

It’s dark, but there’s just enough light from a streetlamp in the distance that you can make out the shape of the petals. They’re too sharp and close together to be a pansy, and facing up instead of down like a snowdrop, not to say anything of it being purple and not white. So… most likely a crocus, you think. Being able to identify the small bloom brings a happy feeling, with the bittersweet memory of when you had time to indulge in a frivolous activity like flower gardening. You could pick it and bring the spot of color into your apartment. It’s a happy thought that dies and quickly as the flower would.

“Idiot.”

It’s the only warning you get with the wind howling in your ears masking the shuffled steps behind you. They’re right: you’re an idiot for standing in an alley looking at a flower alone at night.

You aren’t the only one happy about payday.

At least they’re quick about it. You don’t know how many there are, but one grabs you from behind and another delivers a fast, brutal punch to your middle. While you heave and gasp they rifle through your pockets and take your ration cards. They give you a few more hits for good measure, and it’s not the blows to your face that does it; it’s the momentum with which they send your head smacking back into the brick wall that makes your vision swim and dim. 

At first all you can make out is ratty shoes and pants with more holes than them, but then you force your eyes up up up when all they want to do is close and you catch glimpses of their faces in the same weak light that had bounced off the crocus and caught your attention. The QZ is a contained area with a small population, and they aren’t even wearing anything to cover their faces, just worn beanies tugged down low. You don’t know their names, but you recognize the faces of the group of thugs who like to crowd people at the market and intimidate them into giving up whatever they have to leave them alone. You still can’t hear them when they run away, the ringing in your ears is loud until you finally give in to it and pass out. 

You don’t know how long it takes for your body to shake itself back to consciousness. Taking stock of your body as you get up is easy: everything hurts, but nothing hurts more than everything else. You don’t give the flower another look as you start to drag yourself home.

The wind is quiet now and you hear the heavy footsteps coming this time. Fear zips through you, freezing you in place; had they come back to take even more from you? But then your name is called out in a voice that makes your body start moving again. That voice means safety and warmth and you’re stumbling towards it on shaking legs until you crash into Joel Miller’s solid body. 

He grunts as he absorbs your impact and his hands come up on your shoulders to keep you standing.

“What’re you still doing out here?”

You open your mouth to answer him, but your teeth are chattering too much to get anything out. Great clouds of hot breath steam out of him as he jerks his head back towards your building.

“C’mon.”

Joel’s dark form is easy for your aching eyes to focus on. It’s a mindless act: following where he leads. Your feet could follow his lead in your sleep, so being cold, beaten up, and maybe concussed is no problem. 

The lights are on in your apartment when you get in. You’re pretty sure everything had been off when you left, and wonder how long Joel had been here, waiting for you. You sit down at the kitchen table and close your eyes, safe in this room with him.

The sounds of Joel moving around the kitchen are nice. You play a little game, trying to ignore the throbbing, painful points on your body by guessing what he’s doing based on the sounds he’s making. 

Water from the faucet filling the dented kettle and the clank of setting it on the burner. The click of the stove knobs as he turns it on. The creak of his weight on the floorboards as he waits for the water to boil. His hum at the creaking cabinet door when he reaches in for the bottle of alcohol he keeps there. The slosh of the bottle as he takes notice of how much has been emptied since he last poured himself a drink. If he asks, you can account for every swig you’ve taken on the nights when you want to dull your senses, on the nights when he’s not with you. 

The noises are domestic and soothing, but the kettle’s whistle is like another blow to your temple and you can’t smother the noise of discomfort you make. 

Joel’s footsteps pause, but then the noises of him pouring you a mug of the hot water continues and those footsteps continue until you can feel him in front of you.

You let yourself have the few extra seconds it takes for him to set the mug on the table before you force your eyes open and look at him. 

He’s already frowning, suspicious about the entire situation, but he gets his confirmation when you have to tip your head back to make eye contact and your face is illuminated in the harsh overhead light.

His big hand is on your jaw before you can blink, but his grip gentles when you wince and he gently turns your face this way and that to see the extent of the damage. His eyes trail down your neck and across the stretched out neckline of your shirt, all the bare skin he can see, and his jaw rocks hard enough to capsize a boat on a turbulent ocean.

“What happened?” 

There’s no getting out of this. The demand in his voice and the anger sparking in his eyes makes you feel warm for the first time that night. It stokes dark emotions, the ones you don’t like to dwell on too much, and the first thread of satisfaction unfurls in your belly. You know giving him names will mean bad things for those men, but you can’t find it in you to care. Maybe they knocked it out of you with their fists. 

So you tell him, giving him the identifying features you remember. He’s quiet as he lets you talk uninterrupted, but the emotions that cross his face are enough to give you an idea of his thoughts. He snatches a clean washcloth from somewhere and wets it with the alcohol, the fumes curling into your nose when he presses it to your cheekbone.

His brows furrow when you mention the flower, and you’re thankful that you can use the firm press of the washcloth on scraped skin to camouflage the wince at the reminder of how unsuited you are for a world like this. 

When he’s finished cleaning the scrapes on your face his thumb swipes tenderly over the curve of your chin once.

“I'll take care of it.”

You don't even have the urge to protest, to tell him he doesn't have to. You want him to take care of it, to take care of you. You want someone to care. And while it’s not bouquets of flowers and candies that melt in your mouth, the warmth from the mug is seeping into your hands and his touch wipes away the violence that clings to your skin. He’ll take that violence and return it tenfold, you know it. 

His movements are filled with purpose and he only pauses with his hand on the door to give you a stern look.

“Lock up behind me.”

The next day is just like the one before it. Unable to do anything else without a fresh supply of ration cards, you go to work and try to ignore the pain that has settled in your body. You don’t even mind it that much, it’s nice to feel something else. 

You’re not stupid though, so when your shift is over you make sure to leave from the front entrance when a few others are heading out as well. It’s a small group, but they scatter and go their separate ways, their steps quickening after they notice the figure leaning on the corner of the building. From that spot he’d be able to see both exits, and when he sees you he pushes off to stand tall, waiting. Your feet move on their own before you completely register the surprise of his presence, falling into place beside him and matching his uneven stride. 

A nudge at your hand snaps you out of your whirling thoughts and makes you look down. His hands are always ruddy from the cold, but now dark purple joins the red and there’s a couple of places where the skin broke over the hard bone of his knuckles. The stack of ration cards trembles just once in his grip, maybe from the wind or a movement of his muscles, but you take it from him and stare down at it. There, tucked into the string securing the cards together, is the crocus blossom. A droplet of moisture that had clung to the snapped stem transfers to your fingertip when you touch it. He must’ve done it while he was waiting.

“Thank you, Joel.” 

Joel is watching you when you look up from the cards. His dark eyes are calm, his jaw moving as he takes in your expression. He chews on the sentiment he sees there as if working it over will make it more palatable, something easier to swallow, and you hope he doesn’t spit it out.

[sitp-recs]

Could you please recommend a fic where Harry falls for Draco first and Draco wasn't pining for all those years?

Sort of like a temporarily unrequited love.

Thank you

Hello! Absolutely, love me a smitten Harry. Here are some recs for you:

Solve Us Like a Mystery by tryslora (T, 11k)

When Harry stops in at the bookstore where Draco works, they find a surprising shared interest in mysteries. Draco doesn't expect to see Harry again, and he definitely doesn't expect to become the subject of unexpected investigation that may endanger the life of his unborn child, and at the same time, may bring him the kind of happiness he never thought he'd have after the war.

Voices From The Fog by noeon (E, 13k)

After years of running away, Harry crosses paths with an all-too familiar face and follows him to Amsterdam.

We Might Be Too Old for a Bildungsroman by calrissian18 (T, 21k)

Harry finds something he’s been looking for since the war’s end. Admittedly, the packaging’s a bit odder than he expected.

I Bet That You Look Good on the Dancefloor by birdsofshore (E, 28k)

Harry felt lit up from inside as soon as he entered the bar. There were blokes dancing together, their bodies close to one another, not keeping a wary distance as Harry was always careful to do when he was near another man. God, he wanted this – wanted it so much he could taste it, a metallic tang of heat and desire. He suspected nothing would ever be the same again – especially when he saw who else was in the room.

Faint Indirections by ignatiustrout (T, 29k)

Draco Malfoy is the last person Harry expects to turn up in Boston, Massachussetts. But now he's here, and he won't stop requesting books from the library where Harry works.

Take the Air by dysonrules (M, 51k)

Someone or something is attacking Muggles and leaving them for dead. Auror Harry Potter is assigned to the case, but with his usual partner unavailable, he is stuck with the most annoying Auror ever to walk the halls of the Ministry.

Modern Love by tackytiger (E, 61k)

Harry Potter, of all people, knows that life isn’t always fair. And no one gets to be happy all of the time. But surely there’s something more—something better—than a rubbish Ministry job, and a lonely old house, and that feeling that everyone out there is doing a better job of living than Harry is.

Azoth by zeitgeistic (E, 88k)

Now that Harry is back at Hogwarts with Hermione for eighth year, he realises that something’s missing from his life, and it either has to do with Ron, his boggart, Snape, or Malfoy. Furthermore, what, exactly, does it mean when one’s life is defined by the desire to simultaneously impress and annoy a portrait? Harry has no idea; he’s too busy trying not to be in love with Malfoy to care.

What We Pretend We Can't See by gyzym (M, 131k)

Seven years out from the war, Harry learns the hard truth of old history: it’s never quite as far behind you as you thought.

Can't Sit Still by wilteddaisy (E, 193k)

Five years after the war, Harry finds himself drawn to Draco Malfoy by memories that aren't his own.

A Secondary Education by Thunderbird587 (E, 234k)

Fleeing the aftermath of his recent divorce, Draco Malfoy takes up a post as the new Potions Master at Hogwarts. At first he believes his hopes for a fresh start are dashed when he sees that a certain boyhood rival is on staff there as well. But Harry Potter is being weirdly nice to him, leaving Draco no choice but to play along.

Turn by Saras_Girl (E, 306k)

One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

[bengiyo]

Only Friends: They Can't Sit With Me

I’ve been trying to find the words to express my consternation about Only Friends properly for weeks. Now that we’ve finished the show, I think I can say it plainly: The show just isn’t that deep, and the characters are unintentionally some of the worst gays you know. They can't sit with me and mine.

In so many ways this show avoided saying much for most of its runtime by just presenting the characters and putting them in situations. This would generally have been fine until the final episodes where the push to marry off the characters within their actor pairs coupled with the decision to punish Boston exclusively for any of the wrongs he had committed this season.

I hate feeling like I must defend Boston, because he was not a good friend to his squad. He introduced Top to their group just to fuck with Ray of all people for some reason. Then he got jealous when Top took a shine to Mew. He fired Ray at Top and Mew, and misrepresented a video he took of them to get Top to hook up with him one more time. (As a note, I also hold responsible for his decision to fuck around with Boston and withhold that information from Mew as well, but we’ll get there.) However, Boston is one of the only people in this show not using sex as leverage over the person he’s with or hounding people about putting out.

I hate that this show kept comparing other characters to Boston when Ray is fucking around with Sand while he’s seeing Mew. Top and Mew are playing their little stupid games about sex the whole time. Nick is pretending to be okay about stuff that he isn’t and using a sex tape as blackmail. Boston becomes the victim of blackmail and revenge porn in this show! Why is he the one who deserves to be punished for anything wrong that he did exclusively while everyone else is in “happy friend land” at the end of this show?

Also, what the fuck was the point of Boeing? They introduced Boeing as like a final boss but he revealed NOTHING about any of the characters, especially Top! Force did such a thankless and difficult job in this show only to get stuck in an enigmatic character that we can never get a secure read for. Boeing showed up and seemed like he was more of all of them, and we learned nothing because of his intrusion, and he gets rejected in the most perfunctory way possible as the final source of drama. Disappointing.

As I reflect on this show, I wish it had been episodic instead of a serial. The problem Only Friends has is that in the end it becomes a single story that took 12 weeks to tell. All this drama was so aggravating because these homos DO NOT have each other’s backs. Mew helps Boston out of a sticky situation just so he can be morally superior to Boston. Top helps Ray out of a situation and many of us thought that Top could have been the one who called the cops on the party! Cheum decides to castigate Ray AS HE’S BEING ARRESTED FOR DRUG POSSESSION. Cheum accuses Boston of assaulting her brother under false pretenses, never offers him a real apology, and then thinks that Boston should abase himself before the group at the end. If this show had been episodic, each episode could have been about a gay issue within this group and resolved itself within the episode while continuing larger arcs.

I feel like the angst between Boston and Mew went to waste. Why are they jealous of each other? Why didn’t they hate fuck? Mew is a virgin and Top was his first time. Why did we not unpack how Mew views himself after having sex for the first time? He had been holding out for so long and we never spend time with him really understanding how sex impacted him. Why wouldn’t he touch Ray at that point? Sure, he was never into Ray that way, but what is the core of his sexual preciousness?

This show spent the entire final episode taking a victory lap around Boston losing everything and celebrating these dysfunctional ass couples getting together, only to end on a scene of Mew being interested in Mix’s character as Top looks on worried. What a terrible place to end. We never understood Mew’s thing about sex and especially Top. We never understood Top. After dunking on Boston one final time, we end on Mew wanting to flirt with someone else? Terrible.

These people are still young, but this is not what community looks like. These characters are mean to each other in a way that makes me really worry about the shit that this queer team had suffered as they came of age and entered the scene. I believe in queer community. I believe in helping the people in our spaces even if I don’t like them personally. Even at their worst in Queer as Folk, those guys and gals had each other’s backs. Where was that energy here?

They are truly terrible friends. In so many ways, I was grossed out about the way a bunch of homos turned on the slut in their group only to end the show on a game of spin the fucking bottle where they made Sand make out with Top. It feels so weird that a group of queer people essentially ostracized one of their own for failure to conform with monogamous norms. NOT A SLAY.

Beyond that, I feel like most of the cast didn’t even get to play against type! Khaotung playing drunk so consistently was impressive, but he’s always been a pretty, rich, shit stirrer in most of his roles. First is always a grumpy simp. Book is always the virgin. Force got to be a jerk in a really fun way, but we never understood the interiority of his character. Mark and Neo got to do different stuff, and I really hope Neo gets an award for the way he fully embodied Boston.

I had a lot of hope for this show, but in the end, it will just be remembered as an amusing romp that fell flat in the back half for me. With that, I am done with Only Friends, and hoping to be done with GMMTV in a while, honestly. Between this, Hidden Agenda, Dangerous Romance, and a Boss and a Babe, I’m quite over it.

We wrote so much about this show trying to mine depth from it and the well was too shallow. It’s alright for us to admit that this show wasn’t that deep. We can admit that it was just a lot of fun for a few months. “This show is fun” (read: easy to fap to) and “This show is good” can form a Venn diagram, but that is not a circle. You gotta know when to fold ‘em.