#nora absolutely adores her

[if-mirrormine]

Will we get a chance to see Nora and Callie react to the fact that the mc is dating one of the ros in game?? Because I can only imagine the things they’d have to say at least about finding out the mc is finally dating Grayson or is dating Alex again (or, god forbid, their reaction to gralex) (I’d say Kennedy too but idk how well they really know her, so idk if they’d have any particularly strong reaction to that relationship)

definitely! i won't give away too much but their reactions to each would be something like this:

grayson: FINALLY !!

alex: alright

kennedy: good for them

gralex: oh...?

[chibitorra]

So I saw something saying NPC’s have special dialogue if you run around naked so I figured I’d try it.

Only... I accidentally triggered Charles’ six heart event whilst doing so lmfao

Nora continues to be my most unhinged farmer I love her. 

[rhyrhy]

Never Yours, Always Hers - A.A

Toxic! Abby x fem reader

⚠︎ Warnings: substance Abuse, emotional, psychological, (no physical!) Public humiliation (r!), sexual content!, Grief and trauma, harassment (r!), Manipulation, Wealth & Privilege, Obsession. Just overall darker themes! 10.3k words

✉︎ Authors note: Low-key exposing myself with my guilty pleasure of toxic! abby, But I write plenty others if this isn’t your cup of tea! otherwise enjoy!

⤷ Pt 1/2 - MDNI! - Mlist

Part 2 will be tagged here!

Sweet Abbigail,

A smile of white, her parents adored. Large family portraits of the cutest little girl in the middle, freckles dotting her nose, a Burberry cardigan always a bit too big for her. Abbigail was a mommy’s girl through and through. Her mother, picture-perfect in her small doe eyes, was the epitome of grace. Abby always strived to be just like her. soft, sweet, and always under control. But behind the rose-colored glasses, cracks began to show faster than she’d ever expected. 

✈︎ The first time she saw it, she wasn’t quite sure why her mother would always take so long to make her father’s tea in the mornings. She’d wait her turn at the large dark oak dining table, her small hands clasped together as she watched cartoons, polished silverware reflecting a little girl desperate to have breakfast with her mommy like every other morning. But there was a stillness to the house that morning; Abbigail didn’t understand it at first, not until she noticed the way her mother’s eyes would linger a little too long on the kettle before she’d pour the tea. The silence was only being filled with the sound of a spoon clinking the sides of the mug. Sweet Abbigail learned to stop asking questions before they even formed in her wondering mind. 

✈︎ Her nights were no better. She’d toss and turn in her bed, the muffled screams and quiet chatter from her parents’ bedroom echoing down the large hallway. angry whispers and harsh tones seeping through the walls. It was an ugly rhythm, one she eventually learned to ignore.

✈︎ Growing up, her Elementary school was no better either. The principal stood in front of her, holding up a cut braid. The girl, some brat named Jessica Baldwin, just had to make fun of Abby’s artwork in class. Questioning her choice of colored glitter. 

“I’m just kidding, it’s a joke.” Jessica giggled, turning back to her project. Purple crayon in hand. 

Yeah, She didn’t find any of it funny. Watching Jessica’s dark braid taunt her as she faced forward. Her blue irises darted to the supposed ‘kid-safe’ scissors in her small fingers. That day, in a blur, Abby had absolutely pulled Jessica’s hair, snipping off her braid with said scissors as the class erupted in chaos. Her small hand covered her mouth to hide a small laugh threatening to add to the noise.

“I didn’t do it, Daddy. I swear!” Later that day after two phone calls. Abby begged, her voice trembling as she stood at the principal’s desk.

Her parents barely believed her, but they didn’t exactly punish her, either. They just… didn’t get it.  They never did. Her father’s brow furrowed in disbelief, while her mother’s eyes seemed too tired to even care.

✈︎ The name that had once been laced with sugar felt like a slap in the face. She hated it. She hated how her father would say it with that soft, adoring tone, as if nothing was wrong. Abbigail, he’d coo, always with that gleam of love in his eyes. But that love felt empty now. So, now in her high school years she had zero tolerance for it.

“Jesus… do you need me to spell it? It’s A-B-B-Y” she snapped, her voice sharp, filled with a venom she didn’t even know she had. “Stop fucking calling me that.”

────୨ৎ────

✈︎ Throughout high school, Abby dealt with a lot of internalized homophobia. She would scold herself whenever she felt flustered around pretty girls, her heartbeat pounding in her chest when close friend Nora would redo her hair during class.It only became more apparent after her first time with a guy. They made out for what felt like two seconds until he got way too eager, and let's just say she vowed to never let a man stick his penis anywhere near her again.

✈︎ She knew she wasn't the girliest. She played tennis, had short finger nails, and manspread when she sat. But even with that under her belt, she would dismiss her feelings toward girls as a phase. At least that's what her father called it when she brought home Alessia Forbes, senior year. They'd shared a kiss behind the bleachers in 10th grade, and it forced Abby to face the music. Opening the door to becoming more comfortable in her skin and how she dressed, Abby started to embrace what felt right. She wasn't a fan of makeup or dresses. pants were much more convenient.

✈︎ Alessia, unfortunately, much like most in Abby's life, didn't stick around long. Abby should've known, though. Alessia's eyes always wandered when other girls were around-especially when Ellie Williams was in proximity. At Eastside Preparatory, bullying, fighting, or even petty beefs were immediately reported. They had a reputation to uphold, matched only by the ridiculous tuition parents paid. Abby couldn't stand Ellie, though. She didn't intentionally steer her girlfriend away, but she needed someone to blame.

✈︎ Abby was always quick to anger, and when Ellie-someone who pushed all her buttons— called her out on her behavior, things went south quickly. The two got into a physical fight that was so violent Abby had to transfer schools to avoid it tarnishing her record.

“Abbigail, what the hell were you thinking?!” Her father asked, arms crossed.

“A fight? You think we spend all this money for you to act like a barbarian while you’re supposed to be learning?” her mother scoffed.

Abby didn’t answer. She just stood there, jaw clenched, arms crossed over her chest like she could physically hold in all the things she wanted to say. Because what was the point? They wouldn’t listen. They never did. She wanted to tell them that Ellie started it, that she had no choice but to defend herself. That it wasn’t her fault she lost her temper. But she knew they wouldn’t buy it. Not when they’d already decided she was the problem. So she let them lecture her, nodding at the right times, staring at the floor when they threw around words like disappointment and irresponsible like they were facts written in stone. Flashes of that green-eyed bitch. causing her to dig her nails into her palms. By the time they were done, East Bench, Salt Lake, was already in the past. New York was an adjustment.

✈︎ Columbia was bigger, louder. People walked fast, like they had somewhere important to be, never sparing her more than a passing glance. It was a far cry from the bubble of private school back home, where reputations were currency and whispers traveled faster than wildfire. Abby liked that. She liked that no one knew who she was. That she wasn’t Abbigail Anderson, the hothead who got kicked out of Eastside Prep. Here, she was just another student.

✈︎ Her father had pulled some strings to get her in—of course he had—but Abby actually wanted to prove she deserved to be here. She kept her head down, went to class, and lifted at the gym in the evenings. It kept her from thinking too much. From remembering how things ended back home. She told herself this was good. That it was a fresh start. How much of her life she abandoned like it was nothing. It didn’t matter now.

✈︎ A new group of friends, her gold-plated Cabernet on her belt loop every morning, and hair breezing behind her. It was enough. Until it wasn't. Pushing herself into her studies and sports to keep her parents happy. She wasn’t sure if she was, though.

And that only deepened with the loss of her mother. But it’s what led her to you.

────୨ৎ────

✈︎ Growing up, money was never a concern. Your parents liked to call it being “comfortable,” but in reality, your lifestyle was far beyond that. Their status placed them among the elite, working closely with others in their sphere—the world of wealth, class, and the quiet sin of greed.

✈︎ Your father, a renowned real estate developer, owned Wilson & Co. Properties, a firm responsible for some of the most extravagant hotels and high-rises in the country. Your mother, a former corporate lawyer turned philanthropist, ran the Wilson Foundation, a charity often praised for its generous donations yet quietly criticized for its selective philanthropy. So naturally, you found yourself with a golden spoon resting on your tongue.

✈︎ And then there was Jerry Anderson, a man you’d seen in the circle your father had. CEO of Anderson Biomedical, a medical research company specializing in ‘cutting-edge’ treatments for neurodegenerative diseases. He was as respected, a man who knew how to turn science into profit. The only thing he couldn’t save or hook up to more machines to buy time? His wife. 

“Sarah Anderson dead at 42”

“Anderson Biomedical CEO Faces Scrutiny After Wife’s Shocking Death”

“Gone Too Soon: Socialite Sarah Anderson’s Mysterious Passing Sparks Questions”

It was everywhere. Sarah, She was beautiful; every photograph you’d seen looked almost airbrushed. Probably due to all the Botox, but she was striking regardless. Little did you know she’d passed those beautiful features to a young woman who’d flip your world upside down. A recantation of her flesh. blue eyes that reminded you of the waters of Navagio during your holiday in Greece. Golden brown-blonde strands that seemed to always fall in place. Pink lips that always sat in a small pout. A jawline that you’d probably cut yourself on if you ever got the chance to run your fingers along it. That work of art was His daughter, Abigail fucking Anderson; The first girl your parents approved of, And the worst breakup of your life.

✈︎ You first spotted her in your all-black long-sleeve dress and roses in hand, head hung in respect. Her mother’s funeral. You felt out of place as you’d only met Jerry a few times at galas, but your family went. Everyone did.?It was sickening how many news outlets sat outside, pushing microphones in their faces. They were trying to grieve for God's sake. But conspiracies about their family always ran high. But the rumors had already spread like wildfire. The whispers in the halls, the hushed voices behind gloved hands. Sarah tried to poison him, you know. Slowly. Over months. Some said Jerry caught her before it was too late. Others claimed he staged the whole thing to cover up his own sins. Money laundering, apparently. It was a ridiculous theory—one you brushed off as gossip from people with too much time and too little to lose. But the one that made you pause? Abby’s last girlfriend left traumatized. You didn’t know the details, only that she left town suddenly and never looked back. No one could agree on what happened. Some swore she was just a jealous ex who wanted revenge. Others claimed she was scared. But Abby? She never spoke about it. Never gave the rumors life. You told yourself none of it mattered. Because when you saw her standing there, shoulders tense, trying to keep herself together under the weight of a hundred scrutinizing eyes, you didn’t see a monster. You saw a girl who had just lost her mother. It was ridiculous, you felt. Empathy, something your mother said you held ‘too much’ of. And it’s exactly what led you to next to her, the eulogy ringing out into the large room.

A droplet streamed down the freckled cheeks next to you.

You felt guilty for being so focused on how her brown eyelashes stuck together as they dampened with tears. the whites of her eyes pink. Her jaw tightened, an obvious strain in her body. The way her black dress shirt clung to her toned arms. The small bump on the bridge on her nose. Beautiful. The spitting image of her mother. Sandwiched between your families, Her knee pressing against yours. Yup, Your heart rate was definitely faster than usual. When—Your hand seemed to move on its own.

Her blue eyes flicked over the girl sitting next to her. Her first glimpse of you, a small sympathetic smile on your lips. Arm offering her a Kleenex to dry her face. You tried not to furrow your brows when she just …stared at you. You aren’t sure what possessed you to do it, but your fingers moved. Gently soaking her tears of salt into the tissue. Patting along her sharp features. A small thank you left her lips before she turned back to the next family member speaking.  Later that day. You found her sitting on a bench. Fidgeting with the ends of her hair.

“You look just like her. She was beautiful,” you said, offering Abby another tissue. She didn’t take it. Instead, she exhaled a shaky breath and leaned into your hand.

“She would’ve liked you,” she murmured, voice thick with grief. You stilled, taken aback, a small flush creeping up your neck. You weren’t sure what to say, so you just patted her face dry once more, letting the moment settle between you. One of many interactions to come.

✈︎ You and Abby felt like two magnets, always drawn back together no matter how much space was between you. At gatherings, in crowded rooms filled with bodies, your eyes would meet and every time, she made sure you felt like the only person in the world.

✈︎ She charmed you completely. Abby had a way of making you feel seen, like she was peeling you apart layer by layer just to admire what was underneath. Every compliment was so specific, so deeply personal, it felt like she had memorized you. She gave you gifts you mentioned in passing, sent good morning texts before you even had a chance to wake up, and called you just to hear your voice. “You make me feel normal,” she admitted one night, after sneaking you away from a party into the cool night air. and you clung to it, to her. not realizing how much weight she placed on you. You barely noticed the way she inserted herself into your world—how effortlessly she made you friends with Manny, how she reconnected with Nora and brought Jordan, Leah, and the rest of their circle into your orbit. These were the children of wealth and influence, kids who knew their parents would clean up any mess they made. Late nights blurred into early mornings spent in dimly lit bars, luxury penthouses, and hidden corners of clubs where their last names meant everything.

One night, Abby pulled you away from it all. Away from the noise, away from the people. She kissed you hard against the wall of her apartment, hands roaming like she was trying to memorize you-mapping every inch the way she did with her words. She was intense but careful, treating you like something fragile yet untouchable all at once. It was the first time in a long time that something in her life felt real. And it wasn't enough. It would never be enough.

“Abs…” you breathed out. Her body engulfing was heavy like a weighted blanket. The feeling of her hands roaming your body, pure worship. Your head beyond spinning.

But Abby only pulled you closer, like she couldn't stand even a sliver of space between you. Her tongue slid into your mouth, desperate, like she was staking her claim. Fingers tangled in your hair, pulling, twisting— holding you there like she was afraid you'd disappear if she let go. It was heated, consuming. You'd never been tangled up like this before. And you never wanted it to end.

The gifts, the attention, her touch in all the right places. Abby made you feel like the center of the universe. And you needed it. She broke the kiss, panting, eyes dark with something that made your stomach flip. She looked at you like you were something holy, something made just for her. Her hands roamed your back, fingertips tracing patterns, memorizing, claiming.

"Fuck, I need you so bad," she breathed, voice thick, raw. "Now. Like right now."

And later, as she lay beside you, her arm wrapped around your waist like she could keep you tethered to her, she thought back to the past. To the girls who expected her to take the lead, to do all the work, to prove herself in a way that always left her feeling hollow. But this? This was different. You wanted her, you gave as much as you took, and it made something inside her tighten, coil, and refuse to let go.

Not now. Not ever

✈︎ Abby had her ways of getting what she wanted. It was never outright. never something you could point to and call unfair. Just little things. Offhanded comments that made you second-guess yourself. “You still hang out with her?” she’d say, half-laughing, half-serious. “I swear she has a crush on you.” Or, when you mentioned grabbing lunch with a friend she didn’t particularly like; “Must be nice to have all this free time,” Abby mused, flipping through her phone. “Wish I didn’t miss you so much when you’re gone.” It was always playful, never an argument. But over time, you found yourself hesitating before making plans. Weighing whether the fun was worth the look Abby would give you later. The passive sighs. The casual, “Oh, you were with her?” that left you feeling ridiculous for even trying to defend yourself. Then there were the things she didn’t even have to say.

────୨ৎ────

Like the way she leaned into you one night, cheek pressed against your shoulder as you scrolled through your camera roll. You loved moments like these. You just had no idea the chaos it would later awaken.

“Who’s that?” she asked, voice laced with casual curiosity.

“Hm? Her? That’s Dina, I met her through a friend.” You paused your scrolling, finger hovering over the screen.

“Wait—wait, go back. That picture.”

“This one?” You swiped back to a group photo—just you, Dina, and her girlfriend, who had tagged along that day.

“Pfft. Ellie. Offf course,” she scoffed.

“You know her girlfriend?” you asked, glancing at Abby.

“Our fists do,” she muttered. “She’s the reason I had to leave East Bench.”

“Oh.” You blinked, unsure what to make of that. You were years behind that, you felt.

“Just… be careful around her,” she added. “Girlfriend’s a bitch. She might be too.” She teased, bumping your arm.

“Hey! She’s nice. And you need to let that go. Grudge-holding ass,” you laughed, shoving her shoulder.

“Hey yourself, I have my reasons!” she chuckled, shoving you back.

✈︎ Dina was fun, always finding the best overpriced boutiques with hidden gems. The kind of girl who always had a spare hair tie when needed. It was a shame she started canceling on you more often. Eventually, she even unfollowed you on social media. You wanted to reach out. had you said something wrong? Forgotten a birthday? But she was just a new friend. You’d make more. At least, that’s what your doting girlfriend told you when you came to her upset about it.

“Go ahead. Say you told me so,” you sighed after explaining what happened.

“What? No.” Abby tilted her head, her expression unreadable, like she… already knew. She patted your shoulder, then looked up at you with a bitten back laugh.

“I told you so.”

“Abby!” you groaned, rolling your eyes. You two spent the rest of the day joking about it but it still hurt. Lingering subconsciously.

✈︎ What you didn’t know was that Abby had already decided you didn’t need Dina. You certainly didn’t need Ellie, either. Maybe she found Dina’s number while you were sleeping, sent a few texts telling her to stay away. Maybe she didn’t. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was you leaning back into her, letting her hold you, telling her how much you appreciated her. How much you loved her.

────୨ৎ────

✈︎ God, she loved hearing you say it. The way you said it with no hesitation, holding eye contact, voice sending jolts through her body. It also didn’t matter the time of day or what you were doing. she needed to hear it. Yes, even when she was knuckles deep, listening to you whine and moan.

“Tell me you love me, baby,” she murmured, lips brushing your ear.

“Let me hear you.”

And when you did, breathless, pleading, her grip tightened.

“Louder, baby—uh huh, yeah, you fucking do.”

But how could you pick up on small things like that when your eyes were busy rolling to the back of your skull. This was love, passion, protection. she made sure it was drilled into your head.

────୨ৎ────


“No, baby. Not that one,” Abby said, shaking her head as she nodded toward your closet.

This was the third outfit she’d vetoed. You loved your sweet girlfriend—you really did—but moments like this made you want to strangle her. It had become a small pattern, one you were only now starting to pick up on. The way she’d tug down the hem of your skirt, make you do a slow spin before you left together, double-checking that you were covered in all the places she swore were only for her eyes to see. Your lower back. Too much cleavage. A glimpse of midriff. None of that.

And when she wasn’t subtly adjusting your outfits, she was replacing them altogether. Gifts—so many gifts. Gorgeous, expensive pieces that were impossible to turn down. Each one came with a sweet little note, the kind that made you feel silly for even questioning it. “Saw this and thought of you, pretty girl.” Or “Can’t wait to see you in this, baby.”

✈︎ Yes, the skirts were longer. The shirts—silky, high-necked, modest—were all designer.  Chanel, Burberry, Prada. And when winter came, she surprised you with the exact brown and black fur coat you’d shown her on Pinterest months ago. The excitement had nearly erased the lingering thought in the back of your mind. You began to think, maybe it wasn’t about keeping you warm. It was about keeping you covered. Pushing that aside, you’d buy her pretty things in return, but you noticed she preferred more intimate gifts. Like the stocking you made her on your first Christmas together, the one where you said “I love you” for the first time. Or the scrapbook you created, filled with candid photos of the two of you through the seasons. watching the backgrounds change from snow to rain to red leaves and to blooming flowers.

✈︎ She kept all of them. I mean, all of them. Even the tissue you patted her face with after her mother’s funeral. Yes, she kept that too. You didn’t know until one day, while you were cleaning up for her. something you rarely did since she was a bit of a neat freak. You saw the napkin, obviously used. Before you could throw it out, she took it from you. You blinked, unsure, but assumed she was going to dispose of it herself. Little did you know, you had made a much bigger mark on her than you realized. That day, she was staring at you, as if she were seeing her future. Did she ask you about any of her plans? No, of course not. She figured you’d be happy as long as you had her. Thoughts like that felt obscene in her mind. What she did ask, though, was:

✈︎ “You’re happy, right?” She whispered, tilting your face to hers, always satisfied with whatever answer you gave.

✈︎ “Oh, you remembered…?” She’d smile when you recalled even the smallest details of your time together.

✈︎ “You still love me, right? Even if we don’t always talk about it?” Yes, yes, and yes. No wasn't a word you had the heart to say to her. To your Abby? Your sweet partner, it was always yes. Even if you didn’t want to say it. It was never no. So today when she asked you to get dressed to go out with your circle of friends for a night on the water. You did exactly that.

────୨ৎ────

“Seriously, Abs? Do you even want me to go? You keep saying no to my—”

“That one is good.” Abby cut you off mid-sentence, her eyes flicking up and down your outfit, finally approving. You’d been playing dress-up for what felt like an hour, but it was never enough. You’d given in, slipping into something a bit more modest than you wanted, yet you couldn’t fight her.

“I’m convinced you want a nun for a girlfriend.” You sighed.

She stepped up behind you, hands firm on your hips as she leaned in, her chin rested your shoulder. Her voice was low. “Not a nun. Just Don’t want anyone else looking at you like that.” Her grip tightened slightly. She exhaled, her breath warm against your skin. “Just want you for me, that’s all.”

You felt too covered up for a late-night boat ride with friends, though. But you pick and choose your battles, right? If she was happy, you’re happy. You ended up tying the shirt to a crop when she wasn't looking. You loved your body; you were allowed to show it off occasionally.

Hand in hand, you drove to the port in Abby’s Jeep. The ride was quiet, too quiet. The engine hummed beneath the silence, and you kept your gaze fixed on the city lights outside, knowing it was easier than looking at her.

The glow from the dashboard reflected off her jawline, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of her lips when you reached for her hand.

“Damn, what took you two so long?” A voice called out from the dock as you stepped onto the weathered wood. A man waved, his playful grin highlighted by the glow of the dock lights. Jordan, his thick black eyebrows furrowed, watched as you and Abby approached the small group.

You wanted to joke about Abby making you change a hundred times, but you knew better. That would only earn you a sharp look and a night of passive-aggressive silence. So instead, you just blamed it on traffic and stepped onto the Boston Whaler 285 Conquest, once owned by Abby’s grandfather, now repurposed for nights like these. Luxury, fun, and just enough recklessness to remind you all that nothing bad could ever really happen to people like you.

“Hell yeah, I brought the booze!” Leah’s voice rang out from the helm.

“Someone started early,” you teased, watching her twirl—bottles of something dark in each hand, her laughter cutting through the night.

✈︎ They had originally been Abby’s friends, but now they felt like your own. If Abby didn’t approve of someone, that meant they weren’t worth keeping around anyway. So this group of seven was plenty. Loud, wild, indulgent, always pushing the edge just enough to keep things interesting.

✈︎ First-world problems, boring galas, the bullshit drama of people you’d never really have to deal with—it was all fair game for ranting and laughing about, the alcohol keeping everything light and meaningless. Conversations blurred into one another, champagne bubbles mixing with cigarette smoke, the sharp tang of expensive whiskey clinging to every word.Someone was always telling a ridiculous story, exaggerating details just enough to make it funnier. Someone else was always half-draped over another, limbs tangled, faces flushed, a careless kind of closeness that came with privilege and too many drinks. The air smelled like salt water and perfume, luxury cologne, and the lingering haze of a freshly lit joint.

Abby smirked as you clung onto her, sinking into the plush cushions beside her. The boat glided over dark waters, the surface rippling like liquid ink, only touched by scattered moonlight. The engine’s steady hum mixed with laughter, the clinking of bottles, and the occasional squeal from someone almost losing their balance.

Across from you, Leah stood at the bow, gripping something long and thin.

“Is… that a fishing rod?” Abby called out, raising an eyebrow.

“Fishing? Dude, it’s pitch black!” Jordan laughed, shaking his head.

“What? I saw it, so I picked it up. No late-night snack?” Leah grinned, holding it up like she was about to reel in something huge.

“Ha ha,” Jordan scoffed. “C’mon, babe, sit down before you fall.”

“Yeah, Leah, seriously,” you added, casting a glance around. Everyone had collectively coated their stomachs with alcohol at this point. The boat swayed gently, but in your mind, everything still felt steady. Safe.

“Fucking party poopers,” she whined, stumbling as she made her way back.

The music pulsed through the speakers, vibrating under your fingertips as you traced circles over Abby’s knee. Someone passed you a drink, ice clinking against glass. The wind was salty and cool against your skin, and for a moment, everything felt weightless—just another night, just another story to laugh about in the morning.

Then before you could ground yourself, A deafening crack—wood splintering, metal twisting, the sickening crunch of fiberglass giving way as the world lurched violently forward. The force of it stole the breath from your lungs before you even hit the surface.

Bodies slammed against seats, railings, and the deck. Someone cried out—a sharp, guttural sound swallowed by the pure chaos. The boat groaned in protest, the hull splitting open as water rushed in, swallowing everything in its path. The night, once filled with laughter and careless drunken chatter, twisted into something unrecognizable. Screams pierced the air, panic rising like a tidal wave.

Then came the water.

A crushing, merciless cold that seized your body, shocking the breath from your lungs. It pulled you under, the weight of the crash dragging debris and bodies into the abyss.

Your vision blurred—dark water, fractured moonlight, hands reaching, grasping, then slipping away. And then, Leah was gone. But that wasn’t the name being screamed. It was yours. A shaky voice, frantic and desperate—Abby’s. Calling for you over and over.

The cool of damp grass pressed against your cheek, your vision swimming as you groaned and clutched your arm. A deep gash ran along the length of it, a sheen of red seeping through torn fabric, dark and wet against your soft skin. Tears blurred your vision—shock, pain, it was so fast. Overwhelmed. You gasped, struggling to sit up. Every muscle in your body ached, but you forced yourself to take in your surroundings. The front of the boat was completely smashed in, glass and debris scattered across the shoreline. The others were stumbling to their feet, coughing, calling out to each other in shaky voices.

“…I’m here,” you called out. “Abs... I’m right here.”

Abby all but collapsed beside you, grabbing your face with trembling hands, her wide eyes scanning you for injuries. You barely had time to process before she was pulling you against her, burying her face into your hair, the scent of her shampoo thick in your nose. The others were shouting now.

“Where’s Leah?”

“Leah!” Jordan’s voice cracked as he stumbled forward, scanning the dark water. “Leah, where the fuck are you?”

Panic settled over the group like a thick fog, replacing the drunken laughter of earlier with frantic movement. Flashlights from scattered phones cut across the water. Someone ran toward the wreckage, their footsteps crunching over broken glass and debris.

“She was right here—”

“Did she fall?”

“Fuck, fuck—she was just standing here—”

The shouts became more urgent, the terror in Jordan’s voice making your head spin even more. But Abby—Abby wasn’t looking at the water. She wasn’t calling for Leah.

She was looking at you.

Hands gripping your waist, scanning your face, as if making sure you were still there.

“You’re hurt,” she whispered, ignoring the chaos, her fingers brushing the blood on your arm. Her expression was unreadable—shock, concern, something else beneath it all. “We need to get you out of here.”

“Abby—” you wanted to bud in but She was already moving, hands fumbling for her phone, fingers trembling as she dialed. You could barely hear her over the panic, but the moment the call connected, her voice was sharp and urgent.

“Dad—” her breath hitched, her grip on you tightening. 

You barely registered the clipped response on the other end before she pulled the phone away, her face paler than you’d ever seen it. It was always the same with Abby. The moment things spiraled, the second the world tipped out of her control, her first instinct was to call her father.

✈︎ It didn’t matter what it was. A failed exam in school? Jerry. A bad breakup? Jerry. Someone disrespected her at some pretentious gala? Jerry. Even when she swore she could handle things on her own, her fingers always twitched toward her phone, her father’s number burned into her muscle memory. Maybe it was because she never really had to deal with the consequences of her own mistakes. Not when Jerry was always there to smooth things over, to fix what needed fixing, to make things disappear. It was almost like magic, the way he worked—whispers in the right ears, money exchanged behind closed doors, a well-timed favor cashed in. And now, even with something as devastating as this, Abby wasn’t thinking about what they’d done, what it meant. She wasn’t thinking about Leah. About the cold, dark water swallowing her whole. She was thinking about Jerry. About how he would clean this up, the way he always did. And maybe the worst part was that she was right.

Minutes later, headlights cut through the darkness. Jerry was already on the phone when he stepped out of the car, his expression unreadable, his voice a low murmur as he barked orders to someone on the other end. The moment he hung up, his sharp gaze flicked over the wreckage and the group of panicked, bloodied young adults before settling on Abby. Without hesitation, she moved toward him, her grip on you unrelenting.

Jordan wheeled around, panic-stricken. “What? No, we have to find Leah—”

Jerry barely spared him a glance. His tone was clipped, final. He turned to Abby. “We need to leave. Now.”

“Are you fucking serious?” Someone snapped. “We have to do something!”

But Jerry was already moving, grabbing Abby’s wrist, looking at you expectantly. “This isn’t something you want to be involved in,” he murmured. “Trust me.” The air felt thick, suffocating. Jordan was still screaming Leah’s name. Someone was sobbing. And Abby—she wasn’t arguing. She squeezed your waist, voice soft but urgent. “We have to go.” Your heart pounded as you looked between her, Jerry, and the chaos behind you. It didn’t feel real. None of it did. And then, as if deciding for you, Jerry pulled Abby away, guiding her toward the car. You hesitated—just for a moment—before Abby’s grip tightened on your wrist.

“Come on, baby. Please.”

And against every instinct screaming at you to stay, you followed her. You closed the door behind you. Letting your head fall against the leather seat. 

The car ride was filled with Jerry’s own interrogation.

You’d never been a witness to the Anderson back-and-forth before. But tonight, sitting in the backseat, still processing the night’s events, you had front-row seats. Jerry’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel, his voice sharp, slicing through the tense air. “You tell me what the hell happened.”

Abby was hunched forward in the passenger seat, still damp, her blonde hair clinging to her skin. She wiped a hand down her face, her breath unsteady. “It was an accident,” she muttered.

“An accident?” Jerry repeated, voice thick with disbelief. “Jesus Christ, Abigail. Do you understand what’s at stake here?”

Abby’s jaw clenched. “What was I supposed to do? Just let them call the cops? Let them search the boat?”

Jerry exhaled sharply through his nose, like he was holding back from snapping completely. His voice lowered, even more dangerous now. “And what exactly would they have found?”

Silence. Abby didn’t answer. Not right away. Her fingers tapped against her knee, a nervous tic you’d noticed before. You could almost hear the gears turning in her head, weighing what to say, how much to admit.

Finally, she swallowed. “I handled it.”

Jerry let out a humorless laugh. “No, you called me. And now I have to handle it.”

From the backseat, you sat frozen, hands gripping your lap, your own pulse hammering in your ears. Abby hadn’t even looked at you since you got in the car. Hadn’t reached for your hand, hadn’t asked if you were okay. All her energy, all her focus, was on damage control. And maybe that was the difference between the two of you. Maybe this should’ve been your warning sign. You were still thinking about Leah. Abby was thinking about herself.

────୨ৎ────

“Tonight: Leah Cross’ Death—Inside the Boat Crash That Killed NYC Teen”

“Leah Cross’ Family Settles for $15M Over Boat Crash”

“Jerry Anderson Ce—”

The TV screen flickered, then went black.

You turned your head just in time to see Abby hovering behind you, the remote still in her hand. The news channel was gone. Erased. Leah hadn’t just disappeared that night. She’d been thrown into the current. Her autopsy said she most likely died on impact, but you couldn’t shake the memory of her on the boat, twirling on the helm, throwing her hands up and yelling, “This is my shit!” to every song that played. The image wouldn’t leave. It haunted you. Your parents couldn’t get ahold of you that night—your phone had been tossed into the summer waters. But Jerry reassured them you were fine. He didn’t mention the 12 stitches in your arm. He definitely didn’t mention the alcohol, the panic, the way everyone had been too wasted to process what happened. Just fine.

That night never left you.

Maybe it was shock. Maybe fear. But you never asked Abby about the conversation in the car. Your sweet Abby had just been protecting you. That’s what she always said. You both had reputations, things on the line. That’s what she repeated every time you even looked like you were thinking about it. Jerry had shoved money down the Cross family’s throat. And they took every penny. You knew silence had a price. But family?

Abby hated when you brought it up. She made sure your arm was fixed up, kissed over every bruise. Whispered reassurances against your skin. And yet, here you were. Rolled onto your side, away from her Night was always the worst. Too much room for your thoughts to catch up to you. Too much room for questions.

“Abs…?” you murmured, rolling onto your back, staring up at the ceiling.

“Yeah?” Her voice was hesitant, guarded. Like she already knew where this was going.

You swallowed. “Do… do you think about that night? Leah, she—”

Abby exhaled sharply, already shaking her head. “Why are you bringing this up again?” she muttered, rubbing a hand over her face. “We’ve been over this.”

“Abby, we didn’t even stay that night—”

“That was the right call,” she cut in, sitting up against the headboard. “We weren’t gonna stick around for the cops to start pointing fingers. What would that have done? Made you feel better?“

You swallowed hard, something bitter catching in your throat. “You aren’t even listening to me!” You pushed yourself up in bed, turning to face her fully. “You just keep shutting me down like I’m supposed to forget about it.”

Abby’s jaw clenched. “And what exactly do you want me to say?” she shot back. “That I think about it every night? That I see her face every time I close my fucking eyes? Because I don’t. I can’t. You shouldn’t either.”

✈︎ The words hit like a gut punch. Cold. Dismissive. Final. Just like every other time you tried to talk about it. Like your grief—your guilt—was an inconvenience. You stared at her for a long moment, something in your chest curling tight, twisting into something ugly and unfamiliar. Abby wasn’t going to hear you. She never did.

✈︎ And maybe… she never would. That was the moment you felt it. That stiffness inside you. The thing that slowly, quietly, began to push you away from her. She apologized later. Reassured you she was protecting you. But it didn’t feel like it. Her tone, the way she dismissed Leah, someone she claimed to love. it didn’t sit right. That night, you laid there, stiff in her arms as she curled around you, locking you in place. But it didn’t feel like her. The sheets felt cold. Her warmth wasn’t comforting anymore. The arguments only escalated. Until one day, you couldn’t take it anymore. You walked out her front door and didn’t look back. It hurt. Stung worse than anything else. But you had to grieve properly. Refocus on school. Reconnect with your family. Make your own friends. Find mental clarity. Space from Abby. The not-so-sweet Abby you once knew. But you were her lifeline. And when four days passed without a word from you, Abby’s fingers itched to have you back in her proximity. She texted once.

6:10PM Abby: Hey. You good?

Again.

6:40PM Abby: I know you’re mad, but can you just text me back? Please?

Again.

7:26PM Abby: Are you really ignoring me right now? C’mon, babe. Talk to me.

7:28PM You: Need space rn abs.

Then came the desperate text.

7:29PM Abby: Space Tf? Seriously?

7:29PM Abby: You can’t just disappear on me. You know that, right?

7:30PM Abby: I’ve done everything for you. I’ve kept you safe. And now you’re shutting me out?

────୨ৎ────

The messages kept coming. The words more frantic. More clipped. As if she couldn’t stand the thought of you being anywhere but within reach. She needed you. You couldn’t just disappear. Not after everything she’d done for you. This wasn’t how it worked. You never told her no.

And that wasn’t going to start now.

✈︎ Abandonment. It was the one thing Abby couldn’t stomach. Her mother was gone. Her father was present in name only. And now, you weren’t answering your fucking phone. She gritted her teeth, staring at the ceiling as her phone lay discarded beside her, the last unanswered text staring back at her like a slap in the face. She knew Leah’s death had shaken you. She’d seen it in the way you flinched at the sound of water slapping against the docks, how your fingers traced the scar on your arm absentmindedly when you thought no one was looking. And she got it—really, she did.

✈︎ But what she didn’t understand was why you were acting like this. Like she was the one to blame. She’d explained it to you a million times. She wasn’t trying to be cold. She just didn’t want you getting in trouble, ruining your life over something you couldn’t change. Did you think your parents would still approve of her if they knew everything? If you’d stuck around that night and let the police twist the truth? She had protected you, the way she always would, and now you were punishing her for it.

It wasn’t fair, this wasn’t fair. She was in love with you. All of you. That meant it was her job to protect you, to keep you safe, to make sure no one—no thing—could ever come between you. Because you weren’t just her girlfriend. You were hers. So fine. She’d let you have your space, your stupid fucking distance. You’d answer eventually.

You always did. Except you didn’t. And despite how much you hated the hollow, gnawing ache in your chest, you didn’t let yourself pick up the phone. At first, it was easy. Ignoring her texts, pretending you didn’t hear your phone buzzing at night. You told yourself it was necessary. That it would get better.

✈︎ But then came the flowers. The notes slipped under your door. The gifts left where you’d find them, small and expensive. Diamond jewelry – “I hate seeing you upset, baby. Let me make it up to you.” reminders that she was still there. That she wasn’t going to let you go so easily. And the worst part? A small, broken part of you didn’t want her to. But you had to, right? Because if you didn’t, Abby never would

✈︎ So, you started pulling away. Slowly, at first. Ignoring texts a little longer. Making excuses when she called. Telling yourself that if you could just create enough distance, she’d get the hint. She didn’t. Instead, she adjusted. Became more careful. Gave you space but never let you forget she was waiting. That she was patient. That you’d come back.

And your parents? They only made it worse.One night, as you walked into the dining room, your mother’s voice floated in from the kitchen. “Honey, these flowers are beautiful.”

Your father barely glanced up from his plate. “She’s a good kid. Second chances are important.”

Your stomach twisted. You didn’t have to ask where they came from. The same white roses Abby always sent, of course. You gripped the back of your chair. Bit your tongue. They didn’t know the full truth. Maybe they knew about the boat crash, maybe they didn’t, but even if they did, you weren’t involved, so why would they care? Abby was still Jerry’s daughter. Still the golden girl in their eyes. And the comments kept coming. Little reminders, subtle nudges that told you exactly where they stood.

“You never frowned this much when Jerry’s daughter was around,” your mom added, shaking her head. “You two were always so happy together.”

✈︎ Were. Past tense. Like they thought this was just a phase. Like they were waiting for you to snap out of it and come to your senses. It wasn’t like you wanted her to stay away. The notes on the gifts made your stomach churn with guilt. But then you’d remember the red flags being waved in your face, and you’d try to stand firm. try to hold your ground on this. And maybe that was why, when Abby invited you to dinner, you didn’t fight it as hard as you should have. Your mother’s voice in the back of your head, the same tired excuse about your father’s business dealings and not ending things on bad terms. So you accepted. Maybe you thought one last dinner would make it easier. That sitting across from her, hearing her laugh, remembering all the good things, would make it clear if you needed to step away fully. And at first, it was sweet.

The restaurant was dimly lit, quiet. Abby had picked your favorite place, ordered your favorite before you even arrived. She looked good, too—too good. Dark button-up, sleeves rolled just enough to tease the curve of her forearms. For a while, it felt normal. Comfortable. Maybe even right. Until it wasn’t. Until the conversation drifted back to her. To you. To the space you had put between you.

Abby exhaled, swirling her drink in slow circles. “Can we just… stop pretending?” she asked, voice low. “I know you miss me.”

Your stomach knotted, but you kept your voice even. “Abby—”

“You preyed on me, you know that?” she cut in, leaning forward. “At the funeral. When I was grieving.”

You blinked. “What?”

“You saw me at my lowest and took advantage of that. Made me think you actually cared.” She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “And then, what? The second things got hard, you ran?”

You stared at her, heartbeat pounding in your ears. It was a trick. A test. Another way to shift the blame. to make you doubt yourself, make you stay. Preyed on her? The self-doubt hit fast and hard. You didn’t intentionally worm your way in. You saw a girl who had just lost her mother. You offered an ear, a shoulder. She kissed you first, for Christ’s sake. You didn’t even know how to respond. But you did know this was only proving that you needed time away from her. From this person she was turning into.

The conversation escalated. Her voice sharper, her expression harder. The way she twisted her face in disapproval when you tried to defend yourself. Finally, you forced the words out.

“I think we should take a break.” Her jaw clenched. You expected a fight. For her to argue, to beg, to do something. Instead, she leaned back, nodded once, and signaled for the check. And for a while, you thought that was the end.

But then Abby stopped calling. Stopped texting. Stopped begging.

No gifts. No notes. Just… silence.

And somehow, that was worse. So much worse. It felt so wrong to not be near her.

────୨ৎ────

✈︎ At first, the silence was a relief. But then the relief faded, leaving something else in its place. Something that gnawed at the edges of your thoughts late at night when you stared at your phone, knowing there would be nothing from her.

✈︎ It felt so , so wrong. Abby wasn’t the type to give up so easily. She fought for what she wanted, always. And that was the part you weren’t ready to admit: some small, irrational part of you wanted her to fight for this. For you. To prove something, even if you didn’t know what. But she didn’t.The silence stretched on. Days turned to weeks. And slowly, that unsettling feeling morphed into something heavier. The weight of your parents’ expectations, the whispers about Jerry’s family, the things left unsaid between you and Abby. it all started to spiral. You told yourself it was for the best. That this was what you wanted. But then why did it feel like losing? Why did the silence feel heavier than the arguments? Why did it twist something deep in your chest, leaving you restless, unable to sleep, unable to think without wondering if you had made the right choice.

You weren’t in the right headspace for this, not really. Not for concerts, not for crowds, not for meeting new people. But when Riley sent the invite, tickets already bought, practically begging you to get out of your own head, you said yes. Not because you wanted to, but because you didn’t trust yourself alone with your thoughts.

The music was loud. The bass pulsed through the floor, through your body, drowning out everything else. Riley dragged you through the crowd, weaving past bodies until you were close enough to feel the heat of the stage lights. And then there was her. A tall brunette, leaning in too close, brushing her shoulder against yours. Laughing at something you barely registered.

“What?” You yelled back.

“I said you’re hot! Love the outfit!” she shouted over the music, leaning down to your ear, breath warm against your skin.

Jessica. She introduced herself at some point during the night, though you barely remembered when. Her body was close, her presence easy, effortless. The kind of girl who knew what she wanted and didn’t hesitate to take it. When her hands drifted lower under the guise of friendly, you didn’t stop her. She was pretty. Willing. A distraction.

So you let her press against you from behind, her lips grazing the side of your neck. Let her hands roam, fingers mapping over you like she already knew where you needed them.

✈︎ You weren’t easy. But girls need love too. And maybe, for one night, that was enough. Her touch wasn’t like Abby’s. it was different. More room to flip the script, softer, hesitant in ways you weren’t used to. You had to guide her hands sometimes, shifting her touch when it wasn’t quite right, tilting her chin when she kissed you. But you weren’t sober, so you just leaned your head back against the leather of her passenger seat and tried to stay in the moment. Tried not to notice how it didn’t feel like enough. You groaned in frustration when your orgasm took much longer than it ever did before. Even your vagina had a mind of its own. And it was wondering to the woman you desperately didn’t want to think about.

Afterward, Jessica lit a cigarette, rolling the window down as she stretched her legs out. The orange glow of the ember flickered as she took a slow drag, exhaling into the night. You watched, silent, waiting for the feeling to settle in your chest. Some kind of satisfaction, some kind of relief. It never came.

Instead, she turned to you, smirking. “You wanna hear something funny?”

You hummed in acknowledgment, still staring out the windshield. Praying she didn’t notice that your moans were definitely a bit more exaggerated.

“When I was a kid, some girl cut off a chunk of my hair.” Jessica huffed.

That made you glance over. “What?”

Jessica laughed, tapping ash out the window. “Yeah. Just, snip. Right in the middle of class.” She made a cutting motion with her fingers, grinning. “It was long, too. My mom loved my hair. Always brushed it out for me, made a big deal about it. And then this girl, out of nowhere, just—” She mimicked the sound of scissors slicing through the air. “Teacher freaked. My mom cried. The whole thing was a mess.”

You frowned. “Damn. Why’d she do it?”

Jessica shrugged, flicking her cigarette. “She wouldn’t say. Just sat there, holding the hair like it was hers now.” She laughed again, shaking her head. “I had to get it all cut short after that. Sucked.”

You exhaled through your nose, lips pressing together. Something about the story sat oddly in your chest, but you couldn’t put your finger on why. Maybe it was because you could picture it too clearly the quiet, unspoken possession behind a simple, irreversible act. Maybe it was because, in a different time, in a different place, you could have seen Abby doing the same thing. You pushed the thought away. That would a crazy assumption, right?

Jessica reached for your thigh again, fingertips brushing just above your knee. You let her. Not because you wanted to, but because you didn’t have the energy to move away. The truth was, she wasn’t Abby. She didn’t kiss you like she meant it. She didn’t make your breath hitch, didn’t pull you under in a way that felt intoxicating.

And yet, despite everything, you still felt the pull. Going back to Abby would be a mistake. So why did it feel like you were already slipping?

You let Jessica be enough for the time being. Focused on your own life. Separate from Abby.

She turned out to be sweet. A little clingy, but not in a way that suffocated you—just in a way that made it easier to let her fill the space Abby left behind. And even if the sex wasn’t mind-blowing, it was good enough to make you forget, at least for a little while. You weren’t sure if you were ready for another relationship anyway.

────୨ৎ────

✈︎ Jessica was easy. Simple. No complications, no expectations. at least, that’s what you told yourself. You let her be enough for the time being, focused on your own life, separate from Abby. It was nice, in a way. Being with someone who didn’t come with sharp edges, who didn’t push or pull too hard. Someone who let you lead. Even if the sex wasn’t the same, even if you sometimes found yourself zoning out when she kissed you, even if her touch didn’t spark anything close to what Abby’s did. You made do.

✈︎ You tried. You really did. But there was something hanging over you that you couldn’t shake. It lingered, always present, like a ghost at the edge of your mind. It hindered you from fully indulging with Jessica like you used to, made it harder to pretend she was all you wanted. And she wasn’t stupid.

Jessica laughed, head thrown back as she wiped tears from her eyes. “Wait—you dated that psycho?”

Your stomach twisted. “She’s not—”

“Oh my god, babe.” She shook her head, grinning. “She definitely is. Didn’t she break some girl’s ribs in highschool?”

“That’s just a rumor.” Your voice was quieter than you wanted it to be.

Jessica snorted, slumping against the couch. “I mean, I get it, I guess. She’s hot, in a scary kind of way. But, babe, that’s—” She stopped. Her smile faded just a little as she sat up, studying your face. “…Wait.” She tilted her head, eyes narrowing. “Is that why you’ve been off?” You stiffened. Of course she noticed.

“Her?” Jessica scoffed, shifting on the couch.

“No—I don’t know—”

“You don’t know?” Her voice toned in disbelief. “I’m all over you, and you’re telling me you’ve been thinking about another girl?”

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Jessica exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “Jesus Christ.”

✈︎ Guilt became your newfound friend. Because you couldn’t deny it. You were thinking about her. And now you were defending her. Even after everything. Even after all the reasons you had to stay away. And that wasn’t even the worst part of it all.

────୨ৎ────

✈︎ Why? Because Abby could hardly contain the burning frustration bubbling in her chest as she tossed the racket aside. The sound of it hitting the ground was too quiet, a dull thud compared to the storm she felt rising in her. Why was this so fucking hard? For the fourth time in a row, the tennis ball hit the net and rolled off, mocking her with its perfect imperfection. She wiped a hand across her face, trying to shake the thought from her mind, but it lingered like a bad taste. You.

Her grip on the racket tightened again, knuckles white, the tension in her body palpable. Goddamn it, she cursed under her breath. A harsh exhale left her lungs as she turned away from the court, storming off without a second glance at Jerry, who called after her with that same disappointed tone.

“The hell was that?”

She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. There was nothing to say. Not when her thoughts were consumed by you, by the space you’d put between the two of you. You were still out of reach, and the thought of you letting someone else slide in made her stomach twist in knots. The anger surged again, hot and sharp. Her visor felt suffocating now, like the pressure of it could crack her skull. It had been months, and you hadn’t come back. Months. And what was worse? You’d moved on. Blocking her was one thing, but seeing you move on? That was the thing that twisted the knife.

She slumped down on a bench nearby, the air heavy in her lungs, suffocating her as she dug through her phone. The screen glowed back at her, an endless stream of images and memories. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, flipping through photos, each one a reminder of a time she thought she still had you. Your laughter, your warmth, your body beneath her hands.

A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips as she zoomed in on one picture. You, pressed against her, eyes sparkling. “Let’s see how long you can keep ignoring me,” she muttered, to herself. her finger tapping on the screen. She posted it without hesitation, not caring how it might make you feel. She just needed you to know. she wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.

────୨ৎ────

✈︎ You had been getting looks all morning, but not like this. The stares felt different—more calculated, more curious. Something wasn’t right, but you couldn’t place your finger on it. You brushed it off, shoving the unease down as best as you could.

✈︎ Until you finally gotten home, phone buzzing in your hand, and opened Nora’s message. The second you saw the notification, your stomach dropped.

(Pic is not to represent the readers physical! Just for story’s sake)

────୨ৎ────

“Please, tell me that is NOT my ass on the timeline right now,” you said, barely holding it together as the panic crept up your throat. Embarrassment flooded your veins.

On the other side, Nora stifled her awkward laughter, but you could hear the amusement in her voice. “Then I won’t say it.”

The tension snapped. You were dressed, yes, but that picture? It was never meant for the world. Not like this. Not for her followers.

“…It’s a good picture at least?” Nora ventured, trying to ease the tension, but you could hear her holding back a laugh.

You stared at the screen in disbelief as your phone nearly slipped from your hands. Comments started rolling in. Some teasing, others thirsty. Your stomach twisted tighter with every line. And then you saw it—at the top of the post—Abby’s username, clear as day.

You didn’t think. You just pressed call.

The phone rang twice before she picked up, and you didn’t give her a chance to speak.

“Are you fucking serious, Abbigail?!”

Abby’s voice was rough, thick with the frustration she couldn’t hide. “What the fuck else was I supposed to do? Gifts? Ignored. Saying please? Ignored. I’m blocked on basically everything!”

“I don’t know, space! Like I asked?”

“It’s been months!” Your breath caught in your throat as the anger and hurt pressed against your chest, but Abby’s voice dropped, and something softer—something hurt—slipped through. “It’s been months.” She repeated.

The words hit harder than you expected. You could hear the raw edge in her voice, the cracks forming in her tough exterior. “It’s like you hate me now,” she murmured, quieter, almost like she didn’t want you to hear it. “All of me. Us.”

And just like that, you felt your defenses crack.

[allgoodnamesrgoneee]

CAN U DO JUDE BELLINGHAM FLUFF LIKE TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF... LIKE uh having a family with him and its all sweet

Pink Dress

Masterlist

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 — Your daughter takes after you, something that Jude both hates and loves.

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 — Husband!Jude Bellingham x Wife!you

𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 — 1.2k

Warnings! FLUFF, cute kid, domestic fluff, sweetness, baby fever, dilfjude, he's such a good dad.

Jude had always loved that your daughter had taken your sassy side.

After all it was the thing that made him fall in love with you.

But right now, he was at his wit's end. The spirited retorts that once charmed him now echoed through the house like tiny thunderclaps. Your daughter, standing defiantly with her hands on her hips, mirrored the very stance you used to take when you challenged him.

The same fiery determination in her eyes, the same spark that had drawn him to you so many years ago.

He took a deep breath, and he knelt down to her level. "I'm sorry babygirl, but we have to hurry." Clearly, that was not the right thing to say.

Her lips pursed in that familiar way, a mini-him staring back at him with an unyielding resolve. "But Daddy, I not wanna wear the blue dwess. I wanna wear the pink one!" she insisted, her stubborness rivaling yours.

Why did the women in his life love to go against him.

Jude glanced at the clock, knowing they were already running late. He softened his tone, trying to channel the patience you always seemed to have in abundance. "I know you do, and the pink one is lovely. But remember, mommy picked out the blue dress for picture day. We don't have time to change now."

Tears welled up in her eyes, and for a moment, his heart ached at the sight. He could never say no to his little girl. Something she knew. And used to her advantage.

He pulled her into a gentle hug, her small frame trembling slightly. "Okay, okay," he whispered, stroking her hair. "How about this? After picture day, we'll have a special Daddy-Daughter day, and you can wear your favorite pink dress then. We can go to the park, get some ice cream, whatever you want. Deal?"

Nora sniffled, considering his offer. "Pwomise?" Her tiny voice was filled with hope, and Jude could see the wavering resolve in her eyes. He smiled and wiped away her tears with his thumb. "I promise, sweetheart. Pink dress, ice cream, and the park. Just the two of us."

She nodded slowly, her lips curving into a small smile. "Otay, Daddy."

Jude stood up, lifting her effortlessly placing her on his hip before giving her a big kiss on the cheek. "Let's go show Mommy how beautiful you look in your blue dress, huh?"

Her giggle was music to his ears, and as they made their way to the bedroom.

Jude felt a wave of relief wash over him. The crisis had been averted, and his little girl was smiling again. He would kill to keep that smile on her face. Forever.

He gently pushed the door open, and there you were, laying in bed with Klara laying on your chest. Jude felt his heart swell at the sight. She was fast asleep, her tiny hand clutching your shirt. And you looked as beautiful as ever.

Even though it had only been a few days since the baby had arrived, you seemed to radiate an otherworldly glow. Just like the goddess he knew you were. God, he was a lucky bastard.

Jude tiptoed into the room, not wanting to disturb the peaceful scene. You looked up at him with tired but loving eyes, and he could see the exhaustion etched into your face. Yet, there was an unmistakable serenity there too, a contentment that mirrored his own.

"Look who's ready for picture day," he whispered, turning slightly so you could see Nora perched on his hip, now beaming in her blue dress. You smiled, amusement swimming in your eyes. You knew how much of a hellion your daughter could be and you were thankful to Jude for volunteering to tame her. The cute adorable little beast.

"Well, don't you look absolutely stunning, my little princess," you cooed softly, careful not to wake the baby. Your daughter preened at the compliment, any earlier resistance forgotten in the face of your praise.

Jude carefully set her down and she immediately ran over to you, climbing onto the bed with the kind of energy only a young child possessed. She carefully snuggled up next to you, and you wrapped an arm around her, holding both your children close.

"Ready for your big day?" you asked her, brushing a stray curl away from her face. She nodded enthusiastically, her earlier tears now just a distant memory.

"Yeah!" she chirped, her excitement bubbling over. "Daddy said after pictures we can have a Daddy-Daughter day!"

You glanced at Jude, raising an eyebrow in amusement. "Did he now? That sounds like a wonderful idea." The softie. This is how it went everytime.

Jude chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as he shrugged. "What can I say? She's got me wrapped around her little finger." That she did.

You laughed softly, the sound a soothing balm to his soul. "I know the feeling," you said, looking down at Klara who was still peacefully asleep. The love the both of you had for your daughters was something that sometimes scared you. The way you would do anything for them. Anything.

He watched as you gently kissed the top of Nora's head, and sighed. Jude knew then and therre that he couldn't have picked a better mom for his precious little girls. You were everything he ever wanted, ever dreamed of. You've given him everything and he vowed everyday to reciprocate that.

He loves doing life with you.

Nora snuggled closer to you, her tiny fingers playing with the edge of your shirt. "Mommy, can you come too? To the park and ice cream?"

Your eyes met Jude's, a silent conversation passing between you. You knew how much he cherished these special moments alone with Nora, needed them.

What with his career taking up a lot of his time sometimes. He had often shared his fears with you. Fears of missing out on their lives. But you were always there to reassure him.

"I think Daddy and Nora should have their special day," you said softly, smoothing down her curls. "But maybe we can all go together another time. What do you think?"

Nora seemed to ponder this for a moment before nodding. "Okay, Mommy. We can do that."

Jude smiled, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him. "It's a deal then," he said, giving you a grateful look. "And maybe tonight, after picture day and our little adventure, we can all have dinner together. Just the four of us."

You nodded, your eyes shining with love and happiness. "I'd like that very much. Now you guys better get going so you're not late. I want good pictures." You squinted playfully at the two, causing Jude to get into a soldire stance.

"Ma'am! Yes ma'am!" Jude teased, saluting with a grin. Nora giggled, mimicking his salute with an exaggerated seriousness that melted into laughter. You chuckled softly, shaking your head at their antics.

With a final glance at Klara, still peacefully asleep in your arms, Jude gently scooped up Nora and headed for the door. She squealed in delight, waving enthusiastically at you as they made their way out of the room. You waved back, your heart swelling with love for your little tribe.

You were the luckiest woman in the world.

No one could convince you otherwise.

-Bianca🌻

[superiorsturgeon]

The Many Faces of Pyrrha

Pyrrha: *bending down and making a silly face so a young fan laughs* 🤪

Jaune: *staring dreamily at Pyrrha like an absolute dork* 😍

Nora: *bumps Jaune’s shoulder* Whatcha thinking about, fearless leader? 😏

Jaune: I’m just thinking how lucky I am to see the real Pyrrha…! You know, the side that the public doesn’t get to see! 🥰

———————————————————

Headline: All-Star Huntress Pyrrha Nikos shares her laser-focused approach to diet for maximum performance!

Jaune/Pyrrha: *scarfing down waffle fries in a fry-eating contest*

Pyrrha: *shoves the last waffle fry in her mouth and jumps up for a crumb-covered victory dance* MMMF-MMFF!!! 😁

Jaune: *slowly munches his last fry* Beat me again, Pyr…! 🥰

———————————————————

Breaking: Exclusive video of Invincible Girl Pyrrha Nikos and her partner attending New Atlas Ball in stunning custom dress to celebrate her recent tournament victory!

Jaune: *playing MushroomKart 6* …come on…come on…almost there…I have you this time…! 😬

Pyrrha: Not if I blue-shell you first! 😈

Pyrrha: *snipes Jaune and clinches first place*

Pyrrha: HA!! Pay up, beloved!! 😜

Jaune: *hands over his hoodie* 🙄

Pyrrha: *commences ridiculous Dork Dance™️ in Jaune’s hoodie* 😁

———————————————————

Highlights from The Invincible Girl’s BRUTAL takedown of an ENTIRE TEAM by KNOCKOUT in Combat Championship!

Jaune: *holds up his Scroll* Hey, Pyr, my sister sent me a video of the kitten she’s fostering!

Pyrrha: *gasp* 😍

Pyrrha: It’s so WIDDLE!!!! Look at those tiny fwuffy paws and his widdle bumper-car tail!! I just wanna cuddle him and nuzzle his fuzzy tummy and kiss right between those widdle ears and-[assorted undignified gibberish]

———————————————————

Top 10 Sports Stories: Can’t Stop, Won’t Stop! Pyrrha Nikos shares her insane daily training regimen!

Jaune: …Pyr…

Pyrrha: Mmm…*hugging Jaune tight and preventing him from getting out of bed* 😪

Jaune: Pyrrha, we need to get up…!

Pyrrha: *squeezes tighter* Nooo…! 😣

Jaune: You need to get up for your morning jog! Also we both have meetings today and I have to make breakfast!

Pyrrha: *drags Jaune deeper into blankets* Can’t we just pick up a muffin on the way…? 😩

———————————————————

Jaune: ����

Nora: *pokes Jaune’s ribs* Sounds like Jaune-Jaune’s in looo~oove! 😆

Jaune: What can I say? She’s an angel…! 🥰

Pyrrha: *snort-laughing* Jaune! You have to see this video Ruby sent me of her corgi! He’s so-*snort*-so adorable!!! 🤣

[rwrbficrecs]

Our September & October recs ❤️

make lemonade by @smc-27 (book-verse)

@dot524: This author consistently posts stellar works but I often finish wanting more of that world. This one is nice and long — yay! I loved this meet-cute where Alex’s daughter Claudia has a lemonade stand and Henry is one of their favorite customers. This was a bit of an exploration of divorced dad (single dad) Alex. His mixed feelings about coparenting and starting a new relationship were nicely developed. Such a great warm fuzzy fic, with a nice bit of angst and character development mixed in to make things interesting. And I loved the kid character, Claudia!

falling in love (in the cruelest way) by @coffeecatsme (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This road trip AU is so fun, partly because of how soft our favorite boys are, but also just because of Alex's bright personality throughout the whole thing, and the faith and hope that's a critical part of the book!

we should get married by @smc-27 (book-verse)

@suseagull04: I had heard people talking about this green card marriage AU for months, and the hype was definitely warranted (as with all of this author's writing)! Little details from the book used in a new way, instant attraction, both of them being exactly what the other needs, exploration of other relationship dynamics within the book... this fic has so much depth in its 4 chapters, and it's fantastic!

Cleansing Downpour by @sprigsofviolets (book-verse)

@na-dineee: It often seems like things between June and Nora were always easy, like they were just meant to be. But what if it wasn't that simple? Feeling stuck in life, June is caught between writing a book she’s starting to hate, and navigating her growing feelings for her best friend. A beautifully written story of change, friendship and love, and figuring out who you really are.

runaway now and forever more by tonystarked (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Aged Alex and Henry, a US Senator and an English Prince, have been pining for each other for what feels like forever. Could tonight, at a glamorous charity event, finally be the night they open up to one another? This beautifully heart-wrenching and incredibly poetic fic has been stuck in my head ever since I read it!

The Candy Tax by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This fic is absolutely adorable! It's the perfect nostalgia trip for anyone who went trick or treating, and it incorporates some of the pop culture references from the book in the best ways that just add to what make this fic so cute!

Heart enough by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf (book-verse)

@suseagull04: What if Henry's the one who has to travel for the apology tour and instead of celebrating New Year's, they have a Halloween party? This fic adds so many layers and soft moments to the original, but still includes the heart and references we all love!

Halloween at Kensington by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This is the Arthur POV of Halloween when his kids are little I didn't know I needed until I read it- this is so adorable, and Henry and Phillip's characterization in it is perfect!

I was cold as a stone (but I found what I'm lookin' for) by @miharaikko (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Author Henry has retreated to a small, secluded cabin in the mountains, hoping it will spark some writing inspiration. That's where he meets Alex, the owner of the cabin... The mountain and campfire vibes are absolutely wonderful. It's such a fluffy and heartfelt one-shot – just as recommendable as the other fics in the Flufftober: A Red Umbrella Collection.

Red, White and Royal Switcheroo by @xthelastknownsurvivorx (book-verse)

@suseagull04: This body swap AU left me wondering how everything would have been different in the rest of the story- it's that good! It has the heart and content of the original, plus moments that are brand new- and watching the boys pretend to be each other is fantastic!

Oblivion by @milowren29 (book-verse)

@dot524: This story has been on my reading list for a while and wow, did it live up to expectations! Alex and Henry are kidnapped during their visit to the hospital, and they trauma-bond during their experience. But what will happen afterward? How will this change things between them? The action, angst, and longing in here is spot-on and the storytelling is so well-done.

Sounds of Someday by dazedandconfused (book/movie-verse)

@na-dineee: USA 1972, three weeks on a road trip on the 'road to nowhere' heading toward Texas: writer Henry and farm boy Alex. This fic is so layered and full of hurt and emotions. The ending completely knocked the wind out of me. An absolute masterpiece, please everyone, read it – it's phenomenally good in terms of language, storytelling, and capturing the spirit of the time !!

blizzards and broken boundaries by @gayhoediaz (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Age gap – I love this trope with Henry and Alex. Here, it’s a 20+ year difference: Alex is a student, Henry his professor. Alex makes the move, Henry is very amenable. The alternating POV is so cleverly done, the tags say PWP, but I definitely felt all the feelings. Absolutely delicious!

These violent delights by @lizzie-bennetdarcy (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Henry as a vampire hunter in this fic is such an intriguing concept and the backstory of it and the fic's conflict is so well done!

With magic soakin' my spine, can you read my mind? by @hgejfmw-hgejhsf (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Pining and magic and revelations abound in this fic that's written so well, it gave me chills. This fic is definitely a must-read if you want a canon divergent fic that has just a hint of magic!

to belong to a family (even beyond this world) by @read-and-write- (book-verse)

@suseagull04: The Mexican part of Alex's heritage absolutely shines through in this- and this is definitely a fic you want to read if you want Día de los Muertos fic and all the Arthur feels! I also love all the neurodiversity in this fic!

A Beautiful Reality by @tinyarmedtrex (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Priest!Henry is back. The second part of The Only Heaven I'll Be Sent To Is When I'm Alone With You is out!! And – surprise: He’s not a priest anymore. But it’s not that easy to shake off those deeply rooted beliefs and Catholic guilt. Luckily, Alex is so patient and totally in love.

The Brightest Star by @aforgottennymph (book-verse)

@dot524: Single dad Alex meets children’s book author Henry, and they connect immediately. The obstacle in this story is Alex’s sense of duty to his daughter, Bia. She’s quick and creative, and she’s brimming with opinions. I’m a bit picky about OC’s and kids in fics, but this one was so well done. It’s full of fun dialogue and well-realized feelings and angst. Definitely check it out!

A Love That Haunts the Land by @14carrotghoul (book-verse)

@suseagull04: Once again, this author has blended Mexican culture and RWRB in a way that's so authentic- plus there's magic! This is one you won't want to miss!

check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️

[death-by-frisbee]

Scarecrow, Two Face, Penguin, Mad Hatter, and Mr. Freeze with a Partner who Sleeps With A Plush of Them

Inspired by the Scarecrow and Two Face plushies I sewed.

Scarecrow

You had spent days hand-sewing this plush doll of Jonathan Crane, and though it wasn't perfect, you had put a lot of love into it.

The doll appeared to stare up at you with its button eyes while you held its floppy, huggable body and stroked its soft hair. It was like an exact copy of Jonathan, just smaller. And probably less likely to commit crimes.

Jonathan would be incredibly surprised to see the plush- lots of times when people made artistic interpretations of him they were meant to be terrifying. He had never seen a version of himself this...cuddly. He doesn't mind it, though. In fact, he's quite flattered.

When you tell him about how you cuddle the plush at night he practically melts.

Two Face

You made most of the plush Two Face with soft minky fabric, but decided to add something extra- faux fur on the white side of his hair and dot textured minky for his scars. He was perfect.

The first time you showed it to Harvey, he was speechless. His fingers ran across the soft fabrics you had used to capture him so lovingly, and you might have even seen a tear roll down the unscarred side of his face. Two Face is the one to break the silence, saying "you really want to cuddle me that much?"

When you admit to them you cuddle the plush at night to feel close to them, they immediately wrap you in a massive hug. You hug them back of course, making sure to kiss their scars.

Penguin

Oswald had always been insecure about his appearance, and no matter how much you tried to encourage and support him with words, hugs, everything...it always seemed as if his trauma would make him feel unworthy of you. So you got an idea. You would show him exactly how you saw him, in the form of a cuddly plushie.

You had to modify your pattern quite a bit to make it accurate, but it was worth it. The plush Penguin sat before you with its arms outstretched, just waiting to be held.

You paid extra attention to translating the parts of himself Oswald was insecure about into the plush- intricately sewn hands, a prominent beak-like nose, his cuddly, plump body, and of course his long, soft hair.

You're a bit nervous to show the plush to him as you're not sure how he'll react, so you start kind of awkwardly.

"Uh...I...I really wanted to show you how wonderful you are in my eyes and I...I adore every single part of you, so I made this..."

Oswald doesn't know what to think at first, but he's incredibly touched. He still tries to play it cool, of course.

"I mean, you could always have a life-sized version of me if you want."

Catch him off guard by kissing his nose and wrapping him in a hug.

Mad Hatter

Okay, uh.. You didn't sew this one. You just kinda found a Disney Mad Hatter plushie on Ebay or something and thought it reminded you of Jervis.

(Fun fact, I actually do have this plush and he's very soft!)

Even if you didn't sew it, Jervis freaking loves it. You want to cuddle? With him??? So badly that you got a plushie to hold when he wasn't there to comfort you????

Mr. Freeze

This man is very insecure about how he's unable to cuddle you due to his physical state, so you get an idea.

The plush was honestly kind of hard to make, with all the intricate details of his suit, but it was absolutely worth it. You even added a voice box inside so you could hear his sweet German accent whenever you wanted.

Also you added a small tuft of fluffy fabric for his hair, (ik BTAS doesn't have that but HQTAS does and I freaking love it so it's going here!)

He absolutely cries when you show it to him.

You wrap your arms around him when he does, it stings a bit but it's worth it to see him smile.

For Christmas that year you make him a Nora plushie, with magnets in her hands so she can hold hands with your Mr. Freeze plush.

You better believe he cuddles his Nora plush every day. It's not even close to having his wife back of course, but it does relieve some of the pain to get to hold her again.

[humongousgothskeletonfarm]

TGR CHAPTER 16 THOUGHTS **SPOILER WARNING**

- the teams in the western district refusing to talk shit about jean and saying he was very polite when asked by reporters is so fucking awesome

- cat and jeans friendship rlly is so precious to me

- disappointed that jean and the girls privacy has been violated in the leak of their address but also that letter from one of jeans old youth exy teammates was rather sweet

- literally just said what the fuck outloud about ten times

istg the raven lineup is being picked off one by fucking one

- pointless update but i just got distracted watching instagram reals for an hour

- “All the Trojans looked excited to be here, Jean realized as he glanced from one laughing face to another, and he felt the chasm between his heart and theirs keenly. ​He couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked at a court with any bright emotion.”

man jean u rlly do ur best to make me cry

- “Derek used the railing to haul himself up, and Tori caught his face in her hands for a quick kiss. A group of fans six rows up erupted in hoots and cheers, and Derek was grinning like a fool when he dropped back down to flat ground. ​Cherise caught Jean’s eye as he started to step back and said, “Look after our boys out there, will you?” ​“Our boys!” Derrick yelled before taking off at full speed. “Our! Boys!” ​“One of these days you’ll figure out he’s not joking about you,” “Sort yourself out before you string him along much longer, would you? He’s my brother.” MY GRIN IS SO HUGE GUYS JUST THIS WHOLE SCENE I LOVE IT

- jean taking every opportunity he gets to say how ugly and tacky he finds the trojans uniform is so funny he’s my fave hater

- stupid beautiful kevin and his big mouth, baby he wasn’t looking at jere he was looking at u

- i do have to say, as absolutely devastating as each revelation about jeans crushes is. kevjerejean shippers gotta be some of the luckiest bitches out there, y’all rlly devoted urselves to a ship with characters that hardly interacted in the og books, two of which clearly had beef and trauma. y’all are being indirectly fed with this series and each new revelation

(and before anyone takes this the wrong way, yes i do enjoy the ship! but if we’re talking kevin day ships then i must admit kandreil is my fave)

- “You are very good,” he said to Jeremy. “I finally understand why Kevin admires this team.” ​Looking at Jeremy was a mistake; Jean forced his attention back to the court so he wouldn’t have to face that pleased smile. ​“We,” Jeremy said. “We are very good, Jean.”

this is adorable and all but i can’t get over the fact that jean has been training with them for so longer and has played against them multiple times and just now he’s like yeah actually u guys aren’t bad!! 😭😭

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

- IMAGINE TRYNA PSYCH OUT UR OPPONENT BY SAYING ‘HON HON HON’ TRYING TO MOCK THEM ID LAUGH IN HIS FACE IF I WAS JEAN LIKE U JUST MADE URSELF LOOK STUPID

- aftg is the only sports book i’ve ever read and the only books that were able to make me actually interested in reading about sports

-Jean offered his mark a thumbs-up and intoned in English, “Have a winning day.” SHUT THE FUCK UP I LOVE HIM BADDDDDD HES SO FUNNY HE DID THE THING!! HIS OPPONENT WAS CUT AS FUCK AFTER THAT

- “Jean thought of Tetsuji and Riko and let the blows land unanswered.” well that majorly brought my mood down :(

- ““Oh,” Jeremy said, affecting surprise. “That’s rude, considering your current roster. I hope you apologize to them later.” JEREMY COMING IN HOT

nobody tell hinch there’s more than two queer people on the trojans team

- “He couldn’t fight Lander, so he did the only thing he could and slammed his racquet into his own shin guard with a one-handed swing.”

istg nora loves to inflict pain upon me

- YOU 😭WERE 😭INCREDIBLE 😭OUT 😭THERE😭

- god jere ur making ME blush with all these compliments i can’t imagine how jean feels…

- pls jeremy telling jean he is infinitely better than his opponent and then going oh god sorry idk what’s come over me that was so rude!

- cat getting so excited about jeans winning day comment is everything

- “i’ve never really been a Raven fan.” QUEEN DO NOT BE ASHAMED TO ADMIT THIS U CLOCKED THEIR BS

- “Butchering it was an understatement.” THE SNARK godddd no wonder i fucking love him and neil’s friendship so much

- THE GASP I JUST GUSPED!!!!! REACHER IS HERE????

-“I don’t owe you anything.” YES BABY UR LEARNING

- 😀 this is my face rn because my app reloaded before i could save this draft and i lost the last half of this post so now i have to go back and rewrite it all from my memory!!!

- i HATE u reacher

- “Jean registered Coach, Rhemann decked Zane hard enough to throw him. He looked ten feet tall as he towered over Zane’s crumpled body, radiating a rage he’d never once turned on his own players.” THANK UUUU COACH RHEMANN UR MY HERO PLS ACCEPT THIS TROPHY 🏆 AS A TOKEN IF MY GRATITUDE FOR DOING WHAT WE ALK WANTED TO DO AND PROTECTING JEAN

- umm hello??? DOES COACH RHEMANN HAVE A HUSBAND??? HES GAY???

- oh i’m sick to my stomach. i am crying rn this is veryyy hard to read. oh jean u didn’t deserve what they put u through. and u did what u had to do to survive.

for anyone who hasn’t read the books and is seeing this, i’d like to leave a trigger warning*** for jeans discussion of rape and him being forced to say that he liked it, and self harm (jean hitting himself in the head). the scene takes place during rhemann and jeans talk in the office after their first match (roughly page 348-351 on mobile app)

it is very difficult and confronting to read, if u know u are likely to get upset by the above topics, pls take care of urself. i’ll leave this with some very wise quotes from rhemann:

“Listen to me. It doesn’t matter what you said. You were just a kid trying to survive as best you could. No one can blame you for that.”

“Repeat after me: I didn’t deserve what they did to me.”

- rhemann telling jean he’s safe and he’s got him and holding him tight as he breaks down goddddd they’re everything. this is what jean needs

(and i hate to make another tfc parallel but theyre always on my mind)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

- ok i took a break to process after that roller coaster, watched more mind numbing instagram reels and now im back! it is currently 12:47am, i have classes tomorrow but i have about 130 pages left and i am determined to read as much as i can before i pass out. let’s see how i go!

- once again i was right,, rhemann is gay!!

- “Seeing him like this was bewildering; Jean had foolishly believed Rhemann ceased to exist outside of Exy.” nah jean all exy coach’s actually get powered down and put onto charge post exy

- jean and rhemann: 🧑🏻‍🌾🥕👨🏻‍🌾

- “On the other was Neil’s blasé, “I’m sure he knows,” when Jean warned him to hide Andrew from Ichirou, the Trojans’ casual acceptance of their floozy line, and a partnership that somehow survived twenty-eight years in this heartless world.” STOPPPPPPPPP

- it’s easy to forget that aftg is set in the 2000s and not current, especially in these books because i don’t think they refer to it as much (neil and andrew literally use flip phones in the og books it’s hard to ignore that) until you are reminded of the rampant and virulent homophobia

- FRIENDS AND FIREWORKSSSSS

- “fathers” — jean thinking about rhemann and wymack and their unwavering kindness to him and adding fathers to his list in spite of how terrible his own dad is is something so precious. don’t play with me rn

-GOLDEN RAVEN MENTIONEDDDD

- um yeah so that’s as far as i got until i passed out only to wake back up at *checks time* 5am and find that this post didn’t save! hopefully i’ve managed to rewrite it all. onwards and upwards!!

i feel i rewrote those all with much more enthusiasm than i actually did the first time round after reading chapter 17

- unrelatedish side note but i was thinking about how their address got leaked and who it might be. i mean usually id immediately blame riko that’s the type of shit he’d do but he’s dead now soooo… do we reckon it’s a random nobody and we’ll never find out or someone close to the story? jeremy’s brother? another player?

- “Rhemann’s voice in his head, Rhemann’s and his friends’ and Neil’s, drowning out his miserable thoughts and excuses with unrelenting force.” yeah i’m grinning rn, he’s got so many people who love him and want the best for him and for him to heal

(and neil is one of them😭guys u know how i feel about neil and jean)

- “I deserve to get better.” IM CRYING AGAIN OH MY BABY U DO AND IM GLAD U REALISE IT

[shiro-s2e2-erukinzu]

Anime only watchers and people who aren't caught up with the Manga, BEWARE... Cuz I'm about to discuss Spy X Family Mission 109... You have been warned...! 👌

[SPOILERS AHEAD FROM THIS POINT ON]

This chapter was quite an interesting one...! 🤔 Especially with how it ended...!! 😲

This our first chapter of the year and did not disappoint...!! So let's us discuss this chapter shall we...? 👍

So, this chapter begins like this:

MELINDA STOP, THAT'S SOOO FREAKING ADORABLE!!! 💗😆

I just love the fact that Yor told Melinda about Loid's "concussive therapy" in the last chapter and because of that, we now get this gem of a reaction from her meeting Loid for the first time...!! ���🤭💗

After that, it's time for Melinda's therapy session with Twilight...! Melinda tells him that Yor is the reason that she decided to come in, which Twilight acknowledges as an inadvertent assistance from Yor for the mission. After that, Loid lists off all of Melinda's symptoms and asks what might've triggered them, but she doesn't respond... Loid then tries to reassure her, which led to Melinda to say this to him:

Melinda... 🥲

After that, Twilight ponders why Melinda does not consider herself as a lively person, but she's still too anxious to give a full answer... So Twilight tries to reassure her again, but this time...:

It feels completely unsettling to me...!! 😰 Like, the way Twilight's drawn here with his inner thoughts just gives me bad vibes, but that's the thing with the characters of this series, most of them are grey characters...! Twilight may want to make a better world, but in order for him to achieve this as a spy, he has to do things like manipulation in order get the information he needs to help stop people like Donovan Desmond from causing more harm... And though he's only thinking of his mission currently, we have seen him go against what would've been more beneficial to the mission before (like deciding not to kill Yuri for Yor's sake back in Mission 83), so it's definitely possible that Twilight won't push Melinda too far, but we'll have to wait and see...!

Moving on, after sending her bodyguard Nora away, Melinda remarks that Twilight doesn't seem like a doctor (which immediately made me scared for a second that she might've figured out that Twilight was a spy) and proceeds to mention that she was a patient at Twilight's hospital a long time ago...:

Melinda then tells Twilight that she's here as a mother and a wife, which makes him come to that conclusion to ask if her distress involves her family, and then Melinda asks Twilight...:

HIS REACTION TO HER QUESTION GOT ME CACKLING!! 👏🤣🤣🤣

Twilight not knowing how to respond to that tries to figure out the best thing to say here by saying that he too is interested in UFOs, but it doesn't seem to work, so asks if UFOs have anything to do with Melinda's family, and her response was THIS:

WHAAAAAAAAT!?!? 😵

WHAT DOES THIS MEAN!? 😱 DOES THIS CONFIRM THAT DONOVAN HAS POWERS LIKE ANYA, OR COULD SHE BE IMPLYING THAT THE "REAL" DONOVAN WAS REPLACED BY AN ALIEN...?! I HONESTLY DON'T KNOW WHAT IT COULD BE...!! 😫

And well, that was the end of the chapter and, uh... I have SO MANY questions right now...!! 😵 I honestly don't what to believe at this moment, but I think I'm still leaning on the idea of Donovan having psychic powers like Anya...!! It just makes too much sense at this point!!! 👀

I don't know what's gonna happen in the next chapter, but whatever it is, it's gonna be ABSOLUTELY CRAZY!! 😲 So until the next Mission; take care, be safe out there and be kind to one another...!! PEACE!! ✌😁

[midnightsnyx]

girl at home | mat barzal | part 7

pairing: mat barzal x fem!reader chapter summary: calista continues to put strain on mat and nora's relationship and shocking events unfold

warnings: angst and swearing and not edited word count: 2k authors note: @barzysbaby is officially a co-author on this story cause she comes up with genius ideas and helps me when I have writers block <3 also, all I have to say about this chapter is sorry. i can't even say happy reading because it won't be.

masterlist masterpost ask box requests are open

Despite Jax’s lecture, you’re struggling to accept Calista. It’s mainly because she seems hell-bent on taking on a step-mom role to Nora even though she and Mat have only been dating a couple weeks and Nora absolutely hates her. On the days Mat wants to spend with her, she refuses to if his girlfriend is tagging along. You hadn’t seen Nora throw a tantrum the way she did the first time Calista tried to go with them since she was a toddler. It’s concerning because you are worried that it will start to affect her relationship with Mat and that’s the last thing you want. You know that Nora adores him and in just the short month since you ran into him in the grocery store, they’ve formed a special bond. 

You decide you need to talk to Mat about the situation so you leave a little early to pick Nora up. She spent the night at the Barzal’s and you know that Liana and Nadia brought her out for breakfast so Mat should be home alone and the two of you can have a civil conversation. When you knock on the door and Mat answers with a warm smile on his face, you feel a wave of homesickness wash over you. It’s been 6 years, but the smile he seems to reserve just for you never changes and you wonder if he even notices it. 

“Hey,” he greets you, opening the door so you can walk inside. “You’re early.” 

There’s nothing in his tone that should make you suspicious, but you have a feeling in the pit of your stomach. You follow him to the kitchen, sitting at the island and accepting a bottle of water from him. He sits next to you and there’s a comfortable silence before you break it.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” you say, looking anywhere else other than at him. You have no idea how to address the problem without it seeming like you’re trying to interfere with their relationship. You just need to explain that pushing Nora to be close to Calista isn’t going to work, and if he can’t accept that, there will have to be changes. 

“Yeah, I actually had something I needed to tell you,” he mumbles. He isn’t looking at you, picking at his fingernails instead. It’s a bad habit he’s had as long as you’ve known him. It’s oddly comforting to see something that hasn’t changed. 

You reach out and touch his hand lightly, and he stops and looks up at you. You’re not sure what’s allowed now that he has a girlfriend but he doesn't pull his hand away so you take it as a good sign. 

“You first,” he insists so you nod and pull your hand away. His hand twitches slightly but you don’t let yourself read into it. 

“It’s about Nora and Calista,” you say gently, trying to gauge his reaction. His body stiffens at the mention of them and you have a feeling this isn’t going to go as easy as you were hoping. The coward in you wants to tell him to forget about it and just go home but you have to think about Nora, and her future relationship with Mat. You’re not going to let Calista ruin it, even if it damages your relationship with Mat. 

“What about it?” he asks and there’s a disinterested tone in his voice. It annoys you a bit because you need him to take this seriously. 

“Nora’s not comfortable around your new girlfriend, Mat,” you explain, trying not to let your frustration show.

“Well, she’s gonna have to get used to her,” he argues and that sets you off.

“She’s six, Mathew. You can’t force her to just accept someone new in her life and be comfortable with it,” you snap, ignoring his face that’s reddening. “She’s also her own person, and deserves to have a say in who she wants to spend time with. You might be new to being a dad, but that is common sense.” 

“Oh, here we go with the ‘new dad’ speech,” he says sharply. “When are you going to stop using that against me?”

“When you stop acting like one!” you yell, hating where this conversation is going. You had hoped that it would go smoothly, but you should have known it wouldn’t considering that the two of you can’t have a civil discussion without it turning into a fight.

“Well, I’m about to be one again!” he shouts and your body goes cold, processing the bomb he just dropped on you. 

Your first reaction is disbelief. 

“You’re fucking with me,” you say dumbly, staring at him as if you’re waiting for him to admit that he’s kidding. 

Except he doesn’t. 

“It’s not that hard being a parent, right?” he says dryly and you’re still in too much shock to hit him with a comeback. 

You’re not sure what you were expecting him to tell you but it certainly wasn’t that he knocked up his girlfriend of three weeks. You just can’t believe that he would be so careless considering that he just learned about Nora. 

“This doesn't change the fact that Nora doesn’t want to be around Calista,” you eventually say, standing up and looking at Mat once more before leaving. He doesn’t stop you from leaving so you go wait in your car for Liana and Nadia to get back from breakfast with Nora. 

They must not know or they think you don’t know because they give no indication that they are aware that Mat’s girlfriend is pregnant. You quickly discuss how Nora did overnight and make plans to go out to dinner together soon. They don’t mention that you don’t include Mat in your dinner plans. 

Nora is quiet on the drive home, staring out the window and only speaking when you ask her a direct question. Nadia had said she was well behaved and happy so you’re worried she’s upset about something. When you get home, you carry her backpack in and she trails behind you slowly. She flops down on the couch so you sit next to her, feeling relieved when she climbs onto your lap.

“Something on your mind?” you ask her, and she nods but doesn’t say anything. You don’t want to pry but you’re worried.

“Want to talk about it?”

She shrugs, tucking herself even closer to you. You sit in silence for a couple minutes before she finally speaks.

“Do I have to go see Mat on Wednesday?” she asks quietly, and you realize how quickly her relationship with Mat is declining. It’s exactly what you were scared would happen.

“Not if you don't want to,” you tell her softly. “Can you tell me why?”

She’s quiet again for a moment and then, “Calista is mean.”

“Mean how?”

You hear a sniffle and you want nothing more than to hunt Calista down-

“She said Mat probably isn’t my daddy.” 

Your heart breaks because you can only imagine how confusing this has all been for Nora. She was introduced to Mat without knowing who he was, and then heard from somebody other than you that he is her dad and now Calista is putting false ideas in her head. 

“Well, that’s not true,” you tell her. “Mat is your daddy, Calista is just confused.”

It’s not a proper explanation, but how are you supposed to explain to your six-year-old that Calista is a bitch? You’re beginning to question the woman's sanity. 

Nora doesn’t say anything else and you realize she’s fallen asleep so you put her in her bed and go back to sit on the couch. You really don’t want to talk to Mat yet, but you need to tell him what his girlfriend said to Nora because maybe he’ll realize why your daughter doesn’t want to be around Calista. 

Before you can text Mat, you get a message from Liana asking to meet for lunch tomorrow. You can’t help but wonder if she has an idea about what's going on so you agree and set up a time to meet.

Maybe you’ll get some more insight.

. . .

The next morning, you drop Nora off at day camp before going back home to get some work done before you meet with Liana for lunch. You’ve been waiting for a text from Mat so that you don’t have to message him but he’s been radio silent. Something feels off about the entire thing but you’re probably just still in shock.

Liana is waiting when you arrive at the restaurant and you search her face for any indication that she knows anything but she just smiles at you when you sit across from her. 

“Is Nora at her day camp today?” she asks, browsing the menu even though you know she already knows what she’s going to order. The two of you always go to the same restaurant when you get together.

You nod in confirmation, setting aside your menu and watching her face carefully. You wonder when Mat plans on telling his family about his girlfriend's pregnancy and what their reactions will be. You never knew how they reacted when they found out about Nora, but you’re guessing this is going to be much different. 

“Did you guys have any plans today?”

She frowns, shaking her head. “Mat said he had something planned with Calista?” 

You can tell she’s being careful of what she says because she starts picking at her fingernails - the same bad habit Mat has. 

“I think something’s going on, but I don’t know exactly what,” she says quietly. “He’s been really secretive the past week and Calista has been around more than usual.”

So she doesn’t know. 

“Why don’t you talk to him?” 

She shrugs. “Maybe. I don’t know if he’d tell me anything. Honestly, I don’t understand where their relationship came from. She’s been his friend for a while, but all of a sudden they’re dating,” she says. “He might open up to you.”

Not likely, you think but don’t say out loud.

“Maybe,” you lie. Mat might have a conversion with you, but it definitely won’t be a heart to heart about what’s going on with his girlfriend.

“Anyways, what’s new with you?” she asks, and that’s the end of that conversation. 

Now, all that’s left is to talk to Mat. 

. . .

Much to your surprise, Mat doesn’t argue about meeting up to chat. You agree to meet at your apartment while Nora is at your moms house. He’s late, not showing up until after 8 o’clock that night but you don’t say anything, not wanting to start an argument over that. He doesn’t smile when you open the door but he doesn’t look mad either. His expression is carefully neutral. 

“Do you want a drink?” you ask, mostly because you need a drink if you’re going to talk to him about everything that’s going on. He shakes his head, sitting on a chair instead of the couch and you know it’s to put distance between the two of you. So, you settle on the couch and wait for him to say something but he’s silent, staring at the floor. 

“Listen,” you begin but he cuts you off.

“I get that you don’t like Calista, but she’s going to be around. She’ll probably come back to New York with me but we’ll be back for holidays and during the summer,” he says. “I don’t understand why Nora doesn’t want to be around her, but you’re right-”

You cut him off. “She told Nora that you’re not her dad.”

He looks at you and frowns. “She wouldn’t do that.” 

“So you’re saying Nora lied?” 

“No,” he says defensively. “Maybe Nora misunderstood her.”

“She didn’t.”

“Calista wouldn’t-”

“Mathew, your girlfriend told our daughter that you’re not her father,” you say sharply, cutting him off. “I don’t want her near Nora anymore, and if you can’t accept that, then maybe you need to take a step back and rethink your priorities.”

You want to say you’re surprised when he gets up and leaves without saying another word, but you’re not. 

You used to think that you knew Mat better than anyone, but it turns out you really didn’t know him at all.

tag list: @literatureluster @dasiysthings @barzyblogbabe @diary-of-jj @heatherawoowoo @fallinallincurls @lovinbarzal @whatthepuckisgoingon @teapartydreams @alilstressyandlotdepressy @keiva1000 @hischiershoe @cavill83 @bellstwd @alwaysclassyeagle

if you asked to be on the tag list but you're not here, it's cause you didn't show up when i searched please let me know if you'd like to be added to taken off the list

[yandere-fics]

♡ You Get Nora Drunk ♡

(should I make a sequel where Nora remembers the next day and feels like reader will definitely leave her so snatches them anyways?)

You had always been curious to see what your girlfriend would be like when you was drunk or otherwise loopy since she'd seen you that way hundreds of times in the course of your relationship d said she found it absolutely adorable so you really just want to be able to experience the same thing with the person you loved so deeply, to learn what she truly thought about you when she wasn't holding anything back at all but the problem was your Nora was a tank and even on nights out where she drank twice as much as you did, wanting to humor your desire to see her somewhat tipsy, you'd yet to see her fully drunk, whether that was due to her simply having a higher tolerance or processing the alcohol out of her body at a quicker rate you were unsure. There were solutions for this though, there were lots of people in the city with a supernatural mate who wanted to see what their mate would be like if they were drunk or otherwise supernatural's who wanted to know what their mate was feeling when they got drunk. Really really strong stuff that you knew would give you just what you needed, it took a bit of effort to get your hands on it but finally you did and so date night at your apartment was set and you'd finally get to see your Nora drunk, you'd water down your own personal glass so you could enjoy Nora is all her glory. You did briefly pause to consider the implications of technically dosing your girlfriend but she said she'd be okay with anything you did to her and this had to count in that right? You had already spent a large amount on this anyways so no going back.

"Thank you for inviting me over, I've been very excited to see what my reason for living has planned for us." Actually excited was an understatement on her part, she hadn't been able to trail you this week due to a large amount of work piling up so she didn't know what you'd been doing in your free time this week much to her chagrin. She was very relieved when you called her and asked her on an apartment date tonight to find out you were simply planning you a cute date, she assumed.

"I got this special wine and I thought maybe you'd want to taste it with me?" The instructions on the bottle said to only pour one wine glass at a time but you'd technically given Nora a bigger cup than it said because you wanted to see her wasted, not just drunk. Your own glass had been poured already so you could avoid getting shitfaced on supernatural wine. "Help yourself to it while I freshen up and you let me know what you think." And with that you left the room to go get changed while she started to sip some on the couch. You were giddy to see her reaction but you didn't know if you could avoid giving anything away if you were watching her drink so you decided the best thing would be you leaving the room while she drank the entire glass so she wouldn't become suspicious. Then you sat there waiting, ten minutes… twenty minutes… then your bedroom door opened and in stumbled Nora wrapping you in a tight hug.

"I missed youuuu… I drank the bottle… it seemed too strong so I couldn't let my reason for living drinking that…" She pushed you onto your bed and pinned you down starting to leave light kisses on your neck. For the whole bottle you'd expect her to be wrecked, how the fuck was her alcohol tolerance so fucking high?

"Nora, baby please let me up." As much as you would have liked this, it wasn't very in her character and you were worried she'd drank way too much and would feel sick soon. She grunted when you tried to push her off you, a hand now grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head.

"You know, I'd really do anything to keep you as all mine. I'd be anything for you." You were starting to freak out now as Nora's kisses to your neck grew more aggressive and she started to nip at your neck harshly.

"L-like what?" She hummed, pulling off your neck and looking at your face finally, not even noticing the fear on it.

"Like how I killed everyone you ever had a crush on, I'd kill ANYONE who tries to take you from me. I'd tie you up forever just to keep you as mine." She laughed and you began to really struggle underneath her as she collapsed on top of you, the sleepiness from the alcohol kicking in. You briefly pondered if you needed to break up with her in the morning but after hearing what she said you realized she likely wouldn't let you go if that was true to the best course of action was to pretend she didn't tell you any of that so things could remain the exact same. You also never wanted to touch a drop of alcohol in your life again.

[anincompletelist]

ㅤ♡ end of 2024/start of 2025 fic recs! ㅤ♡

my previous recs can be found under this tag!

happy new year everyone! :D I have been so far behind on my tbr list lately but I have managed a few that I've thoroughly enjoyed and felt like sharing! it is by no means a complete list - ha - but I grabbed a few I'd made note of in case anyone is looking for recs.

happy reading and a very happy new year to you all! x

in no particular order:

ㅤㅤㅤSweet Rivalry | bleedingballroomfloor | E | 11k

“Hunter’s entering again,” Alex explains before Henry can finish, “and somehow, that fucker beat both of us, even though he has half the skill of both of us combined. We’ve dominated the bake off year after year. If we want to see him go down, this is the only way to ensure that.” Henry blinks. “So you want to —” “Gang up so we can beat the shit out of Hunter, yeah. Were you even listening to anything I just said?” [Or, Alex and Henry are rival bakers day-to-day, but a newcomer in the Park Slope Christmas Cookie Bake-Off has them becoming a lot closer than originally planned.]

All my promise and my pride (all my fear and all my fight) | @kiwiana-writes | E | 10k

“And the thing is, I get it.” He grips his phone hard enough that he knows he’s risking cracking the screen again, barrelling forward before Henry can interrupt him with bullshit platitudes. “They’re both out there trying to fix the whole damn world to make it a little better for their trans son, but fuck, I miss being able to come home and having that be the one place I didn’t have to deal with any bullshit, you know?” The silence that follows is so absolute, Alex pulls the phone away from his ear to check that the call hasn’t dropped. “Henry?” “I’m here.” Henry’s voice is cracked and hoarse, and he must realise it at the same time Alex does, because he clears his throat before speaking again. “Alex, I don’t—did you mean to tell me that?” [Or, Alex is a stealth trans guy. That doesn't stop canon from barrelling ahead.]

(of everyone i ever knew) i'm giving it all to you | @alasse9 | T+ | 18k

[In a world where the be-all and end-all of relationships is determined by soul resonance, Henry can’t have a soulmate and Alex experiences soul resonance in such a disruptive way that he just doesn’t want one. Against all odds, this is their story.] So he obediently shuffles after June and Nora to say hello, trying his very best not to get distracted by all the connections his brain is shouting at him about. He’s actually trying so badly not to get distracted that he ends up not realizing it’s his turn to say hello to Prince Henry until he’s right there in front of Alex, holding out a hand, and it means he doesn’t have time to register much outside of wow, are his eyes really that blue? and that’s less of a smile and more of a grimace before their hands touch. And for the first time since puberty hit, it’s not a sensory shock, it doesn’t feel like someone’s soul is shouting at him. It’s peaceful. It’s— “Quiet,” Alex whispers. “Your soul is so quiet.”

hit me(n) baby one more time series | @bananzie | M | 15k

(no summary for the series as a whole but it's a&h as hit men! beautiful and captivating, and feel free to check out their entire whumptober as well if it's your thing -- it typically isn't mine but I ADORED all the works in the series!)

Whole Package Babe (I Like The Way You Fit) | @fairflowered | E | 3k

The thing is — they’ve talked about this. They’ve talked about it a lot, Henry fucking Alex. The mechanics of it, the things they’d need to order, if that was even something either of them wanted. (They wanted it).

King Alex and the Little Prince | @smc-27 | M | 16k

“We’ve a proposal. As a show of good faith, Her Majesty is willing to ally our kingdoms the old fashioned way.” Alex glares across the table. “What does that mean?” Philip tips his chin up. “There is a prince. He is yours if you’d like him.” Oh, for fuck’s sake.

+

and that's all for now! my goal is to finally get around to reading both more fic and physical books in the near future, so I will keep you all updated as I go along :D

x

[erlie]

M/M Books, part 2

As promised, more M/M books with happy endings

EWB: Enemies with Benefits by N.R. Walker

As the title says but of course they end up as lovers. The start is little rough but that might be because these two actually hate each other at first, unlike in so many enemies to lovers. Smutty, lightly kinky.

A Rival Most Vial: Potioneering for Love and Profit by R.K. Ashwick

Cozy low stakes fantasy. Like coffee shop AU but with potions. Absolutely adorable, makes you giggle and kick your feet. If you liked Legends & Lattes, this is for you. Might be little spicy? Can't remember.

All for the Game -series by Nora Sakavic (on going) The Foxhole Court / The Raven King / The King's Men / The Sunshine Court

These are not happy books. While the first trilogy does end well, the ride there is ROUGH. But it is a heart wrenching story of found family, trust, trauma and overcoming your past and upbringing.

Mind the content warnings, THERE ARE MANY. These can and will veer slightly into misery porn but if you can handle that, go forth!

10 Things That Never Happened by Alexis Hall

This on the other hand is very happy and so stupid, in the best way. Fake amnesia and forced proximity with obvious hijinks. This does require reader some suspension of disbelief (because one can NOT throw a company wide christmas party WITH CATERING in LONDON, two days before christmas.) but you are so fuzzy and warm that its okay.

The Green Creek -series by TJ Klune Wolfsong / Ravensong / Heartsong / Brothersong

Do you love werewolves but do not really enjoy ABO dynamics? Can you stomach some pseudo science regarding wolf packs and alphas? Good news, this series is incredible! It will make you cry and curse 'stupid sexy werewolves'. Klune is my favorite author and this is my favorite book series, I can not recommend it enough.

Big Bad Wolf -series by Charlie Adhara The Wolf at the Door

More werewolves without ABO? Here you go! Adhara's werewolf books are solidly very good, hot and also have pretty good crime solving. Two grumps try to solve a crime and one of them might or might not be a suspect!

I can also recommend the Monster Hunt spin-off series.

The Turners series by Cat Sebastian The Ruin of a Rake / The Lawrence Browne Affairs

Historical romance all the way! Cat Sebastian is always reliable on this front so pretty much all of her books are good. I did not add the first book of the series here, because I liked it less than these two, but it still a solid read! Warning for period typical homophobia but is very minor and all of these obviously have happy endings. Spicy.

In Other Lands by Sarah Rees Brennan

This book took me by a surprise. I had very different expectations for this and it just threw them in the trash. If you want that Hogwarts-ish feeling without transphobia, this scratches that itch! Also some brilliant trope reversals and you have to on occasion face some uncomfortable feelings yourself. And the romance is very adorable. Not spicy.

Cemetary Boys by Aiden Thomas

Sometimes you accidentally summon a ghost and it won't go away and then you fall in love with him. Happens to everyone. Very good read about family, gender and acceptance. Transman as a main character. Not spicy.

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4

[k-evans-reads]

Morning Kiss

A Carpenter!Chris and Nora drabble from Built to Last

The day had started with a kiss.  

Not just any kiss… the kiss. The kind that had left Nora breathless, staring after Chris even after the bell over the shop door jingled behind him.  

He had stopped by early that morning, still smelling of coffee and soap, his hair slightly damp like he had just run his fingers through it after a shower. He hadn't even been inside for a full minute before he was cupping her face and pressing his lips to hers, warm and sure, like he had been thinking about it since waking up.  

“I love you,” he had murmured against her lips, just before pulling away. Then, with that boyish, lopsided grin that ruined her, he had added, “Have a good day, honey.”  

And then he was gone.  

Just gone, like he hadn’t just turned her into a puddle right there behind the counter before the store had even opened.  

The rest of the day had been a blur. She had tried so hard to focus, to get lost in her work, but all she could think about was the way he had looked at her, the heat behind it, the weight of those words.  

And then, to make everything worse, he had stopped by again after work.  

Nora had seen him before he spotted her, standing by the front shelves, flipping absentmindedly through a book he definitely wasn’t reading. He was still in his work clothes, jeans dusted with sawdust, white T-shirt fitting just a little too well, muscles shifting under the fabric when he turned a page.   

It was unfair. So unfair.  

She should have been shelving books, should have been stocking the register, but instead, she stood there, completely useless, her brain empty except for the overwhelming need to touch him.  

And then he did spot her.  

His lips curled into a knowing smirk, like he knew exactly what he was doing to her. Like he had been waiting for her to notice.  

Nora swallowed hard and forced herself to move, pretending to look busy as he made his way to the counter.  

Chris set the book down and leaned in, resting his forearms on the wood. “Hey, baby.”  

Baby. 

Her knees nearly buckled.  

She was so done for.  

“Hi,” she managed, voice embarrassingly shaky.  

Chris grinned, clearly pleased with himself, “You okay over there?”  

No. Absolutely not.  

But she couldn’t admit that, so she swallowed hard and nodded, forcing her lips into something resembling a smile.  

Chris tilted his head, eyes warm with amusement. “You sure? You look a little…” He paused, eyes scanning her face. “Flushed.” 

She was flushed. She could feel it—heat creeping up her neck, settling in her cheeks.  

“I’m fine,” she lied, gripping the edge of the counter.  

Chris let out a low hum, like he didn’t quite believe her, “Mm-hmm.”  

Nora exhaled sharply and turned toward the stack of books beside her, desperate for something to do with her hands.  

Chris watched her for a moment, then leaned in even closer, “You’ve been thinking about me today, haven’t you?”  

Her fingers fumbled against the book spine.  

Chris grinned, “Oh, baby.” His voice was low and teasing, his breath warm against her ear, “That’s adorable.”  

Nora groaned, dropping her forehead onto her arms, “I hate you.”  

Chris laughed, full and warm, and she felt his fingers brush over her arm.  

“No, you don’t,” he said, voice smug.  

No. She absolutely did not.  

And when she finally lifted her head, reluctantly meeting his gaze, Chris’s expression softened. His teasing smirk melted into something so sweet, so ridiculously fond, it made her stomach flip.  

“C’mere,” he murmured, reaching for her.  

She didn’t hesitate, just stepped around the counter and let him pull her into his arms, let herself press her face into the crook of his neck, breathing him in.  

Chris kissed the top of her head, his hand sliding up and down her back in slow, soothing strokes.  

“I love you, baby,” he murmured again, softer this time, like he needed to say it, like he needed her to hear it.  

And God, she did. She needed every bit of it.

Chris held her tight, his arms solid and warm around her, like he knew she needed it. Like he felt it too, that pull, that weight in the air between them that had been there all day.  

Nora melted against him, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, breathing in the scent of sawdust and cedar and him.  

“You’re so mean,” she murmured against his chest.  

Chris huffed a soft laugh, his hand sliding up to tangle in her hair. “Mean?”  

She nodded, refusing to lift her head. “You can’t just kiss me like that in the morning and then disappear all day. It’s cruel.”  

Chris chuckled, his chest vibrating beneath her cheek, “Baby, I had to work.”  

She groaned dramatically, and Chris grinned. “You want me to quit my job so I can spend all day kissing you instead? ‘Cause I’ll do it. Might be bad for my business, though.”  

Nora finally looked up, her stomach flipping at the sight of him, his teasing smirk, the way his blue eyes crinkled at the corners, so pleased with himself.  

“You like driving me crazy,” she accused.  

Chris grinned wider, “A little bit, yeah.”  

She swatted at his chest, and he caught her wrist easily, bringing it to his lips.  

Nora’s breath caught.  

He didn’t look so smug now. His eyes had gone darker, his teasing smile fading into something warmer, something heavier.  

“I missed you today,” he murmured, pressing a slow kiss to her palm.  

Her stomach swooped.  

Chris’s gaze lifted to hers, searching, and his fingers tightened around her wrist. “Did you miss me?”  

Nora swallowed hard, her heart pounding.  

How could he not know? How could he not see it, written all over her, in the way her whole body felt lighter the second he walked in?  

She nodded and Chris let out a low hum, eyes dropping to her lips.  

Then he really kissed her.  

Not like that morning, quick and teasing, just to leave her wanting. No, this was different. This was hungry.  

His hands slid into her hair, tilting her head, and she went weightless, gripping his shoulders, holding on because if she didn’t, she’d fall.

Chris deepened it, a low groan vibrating against her lips, and it made heat spark under her skin, made her toes curl in her boots.  

By the time he pulled away, she was breathless, shaking, and Chris looked just as wrecked, his chest rising and falling hard, his grip still tight in her hair.  

“God, I love you,” he muttered, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe it, like it hit him fresh every time.  

Nora exhaled sharply, gripping his shirt in her fists, overwhelmed in the best possible way.  

Chris grinned then, smoothing a hand down her back. “So,” he murmured, voice warm and teasing again, “am I still mean?”  

She blinked up at him, dazed, and Chris laughed.  

“…. I really did miss you today,” she finally admitted as plain as day. 

Hearing that made Chris let out a low groan and kissed her hard, like those words flipped something in him, like he needed her to say it.

She gasped into his mouth, and he used the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his hands gripping her hips and pulling her flush against him.

Nora could feel everything… the heat of him, the tension, the way his fingers pressed into her, holding her tight.

Chris tore his lips from hers, breathing hard. “You have no idea,” he muttered, shaking his head before pressing a kiss to her throat, “what you do to me.”

Her stomach flipped, and he felt it, because he grinned against her skin.

Chris’s lips trailed lower, slow and teasing, like he was making a point.

Nora’s breath hitched, “Chris—”

“Yeah, baby?”

She shivered, gripping his arms, heat flooding through her.

Chris chuckled softly, pulling back just enough to look at her, his hands still firm on her hips. His voice was lower now, thick with something else entirely.

“I should probably let you get back to work,” he murmured, but he didn’t move, his thumbs rubbing slow circles over her sweater.

Nora’s lips parted, her heartbeat wild.

Chris’s smirk deepened, his voice a teasing drawl. “Or you could close the shop early.”

She knew what he meant.

The air between them crackled, thick and charged, and Chris watched her, giving her the space to decide.

Nora swallowed, her cheeks burning, her hands tightening on him, silent permission.

Chris’s smirk faded into something softer, something warmer. He tilted his head, brushing his lips against hers, slow and deliberate, savoring it.

“Baby,” he murmured against her mouth, voice barely above a whisper, “you’re mine.”

And then he kissed her again, deep and slow, and everything else faded away.

[arc-misadventures]

A funny little idea that popped into my head with the bunny knight posts.

Rabbit faunus Jaune introducing his 'daughter' Juniper(small faunus version of the jackalope) to Velvet and her family

Little BunBun

Jaune was in the midst of a mission in a small village that had recently been attacked by, Grimm. Jaune, and his team had managed to defeat the, Grimm with minimal damage to the town. But, they were combing through the town checking the destroyed, buildings for any survivors, or if there may still be some, Grimm lurking about.

Jaune: Guys? How’s everything going; Any survivors?

Ren: None so far.

Nora: Found one! Pyrrha, give me a hand!

Pyrrha: On it!

Jaune: Need help?

Pyrrha: Don’t worry, I got him!

Jaune: Okay.

Jaune continued to walk through the town when he stopped abruptly, he heard some rustling in nearby bush. He raised his shield, and pointed his sword towards the sound. He slowly creeped forward, hearing the bush rustling more until it stopped when he came close. He bent down to look at the underbrush. And, saw something he didn’t expect.

Jaune: Oh… Well, hello there.

~~~

Jaune: So, yeah. That’s how all of this happened.

Velvet: Oh, that so sad…

Lulu: I can’t believe this could possibly even happen.

Ilaria: It’s more common than you may think… The same thing happened to me when we were younger.

Rumi: I have the scars to prove it.

Silk: And, it happened to this innocent child as well?

Lily: So… W-What’s her name?

Jaune: Oh yes, say hello to my adopted daughter, Juniper Arc. Say ‘hi,’ Juniper.

A small faunas girl slowly peaked out from behind, Jaune’s leg, before darting back behind his leg.

Jaune: It’s okay, Juni, they’re alright. Just like gramma, grampa, and all your crazy aunts.

The girl slowly appeared from behind, Jaune’s leg, and nervously waved at the, Scarlatina family.

Juniper: H-Hi…

Ilaria: Well, hello there sweetie, my name is, Iliara, it’s nice to meet you~!

Juniper: Hi…

Lulu: She’s so cute~!

Lily: Oh~! I want one~!

Silk: She’s already got eight aunts… What’s wrong with one more…?

Velvet: How about another sibling instead~?

Rumi: This is… giving me ideas…

Iliara: You look hungry, do you want something to eat dear?

Juniper looked at them before darting back behind her adopted fathers leg. Jaune could feel her shaking nervously against him.

Jaune: Sorry, she’s scared around other people because of… Because of stuff.

Silk: What stuff?

Jaune: Stuff.

Lily: Best leave it at that.

Jaune: Give her some time, and some space, and she’ll warm up to you all eventually. So long as you don’t do what my mother did…

Velvet: What happened?

Jaune: Well…

~~~

Juniper: SHE’S. SO. PRECIOUS!!!

Juniper, Jaune’s mother squealed in delight as she hugged her first grandchild. She didn’t care if she was adopted, all that she cared was that she finally had her first grandchild, and that she was absolutely adorable.

Everyone was adoring watching, Juniper embrace her new grandchild, except for two people; Jaune who knew, Juniper, his daughter, had anxiety issues when it came to other people, and Juniper, the child, who was in the midst of said anxiety issues as she frantically tried to get out of her overbearing grip on her.

~~~

Jaune: Yeah, she started to hide behind something whenever mom got too close for comfort.

Ilaria: Oh my.

Jaune: So yeah, please give her some space, and time.

Lulu: Can do!

Rumi: I’ll make sure the others give her some space.

Silk: I gotta take a photo of this!

Lily: Awwww~! The way she clings on to him is so precious!

Velvet: She’s just a scared little bunny rabbit.

Ilaria: She reminds me of you girls when you were her age. A whole litter of scared little bunnies. Ahh, you were so adorable.

Jaune: Yeah, she is a… Hmm? What is it, Juni?

Jaune bent down to look into the eyes of his daughter after she pulled at his pants leggings. Looking into her beautiful golden eyes as she cutely stared at her adopted father.

Juniper: Dad, i’m hungry.

Jaune: Alright, lets get something to eat dear.

Jaune picked up his daughter, and held her in his arms, and turned to address the, Scarlatina family.

Jaune: Sorry, ladies. The little lady is hungry. We’re going to grab something to eat. We’ll catch you all later. Say, ‘goodbye,’ Juni.

Juniper: Bye.

IRVLLS: Awww~!

They waved back at the little girl as they watched the father, and daughter duo leave.

Velvet: That is the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen.

Silk: I always had a feeling, Jaune would be a great father. And, he took to it like an eagle flying in the sky.

Lulu: Hey… Uhh…? D-Did any of you feel a sort of… throbbing feeling in your gut?

Lily: Now that you mention it, I kinda did.

Rumi: So did I.

Silk: Are we sick?

Velvet: I knew there was something off with that casserole we had yesterday!

Ilaria: Oh don’t worry, I know what this feeling is, I’ve had it before myself.

Silk: You have?

Ilaria: Oh yes, numerous times in fact.

Velvet: Then what is it?

Ilaria: A desire to do some baby making~!

Lily: WHAT?!

Lulu: That was my womb throbbing then?

Velvet: Did seeing, Jaune with, Juniper really do that to us?

Rumi: Dips.

Silk: Di…?! Fuck!

Lulu: Wait, are yoy two going to… with the aim of having his kids?!

Silk: I want to be a mom, and, Jaune has already proven he will be one hell of a daddy~! So why not?

Rumi: I’m at that age where I want to settle down, and have a family. Who better to do that with than, Jaune?

Ilaria: Care to make that a threesome sister? Maybe we can give our hips a break of we tag team him.

Rumi: Ha! That’s not gonna happen…

Ilaria: I know…

///

What do you think of the art? I couldn’t find any good art of a jackalope anime girl. So I found a cute bunny girl, and tweaked it so she looked like a faunas version of, Juniper.

Which was a nightmare to do that on my phone. Couldn’t get anything looking right…

Art isn’t mine.

[jesterday00]

Out her NORA MAXXING!!!! I LOVE HER

Nora absolutely adores Theo BTW she finds him so sweet and respectful. Also she is not actually taller than Theo, I must make that known