#this....might be the last four seasons fill for a bit

[munsonsfairy]

I always see bbf abby but never sbf, so maybe older abby x friends little sister (of age of course, like about to graduate college) 🕺🏽 reader is visiting her sister and she sees abby type thing idk

Btw, your work is amazing 🙂‍↕️🩷

love me tender ✨🐚🤍🌸🐠

author’s note: thank you so much! i appreciate you for reading and sending in a request. i hope you enjoy! thank you for @katemartinis for proofreading. 🤍

abby wants say yes to heaven, say yes to you, and let fear she has fall away. you thought you were only a lost memory to abby until this summer. now, you’re standing in front of abby in the rain with shoes full of water staring at each other.

content: fluff with angst. summer before graduation. 18+ no smut. no specific descriptions of reader but is feminine.

word count: 2.2k

The salt air coming in from your open window cools your skin from the summer heat. You're lying on your bed watching season three of stranger things as you always do at the start of summer. Or at least you were watching it until your best friend, Jackie, came over. It's the summer before your senior year and you’re trying to soak up every bit of it before you graduate.

You and Jackie made a list of what you want to do this summer consisting of tanning to getting matching tattoos to trying out surfing. Luckily you live on an island making it easy to complete. today you wanted to check off going to the aquarium off your list. While you were going through your closet for an outfit, Jackie was talking about a boy she swears she’s in love with after knowing him for two weeks.

Finally, you found the dress you were looking for. You always felt your best while wearing it and thought your skin glowed with the color. you stood in front of the mirror in awe.

Downstairs, you hear the door slam and someone yell to your mom that they’re hungry.

It's your older sister, Sarah coming back from volleyball practice. You both might be lesbian, but someone was definitely dropped too many times as a baby. You hear your mom greet Sarah and someone else.

“Well look who it is. my favorite Anderson!”

Abby. Anderson.

She's your sister’s best friend and also plays in the same volleyball team. You've had a crush on since you laid eyes on her. The way she carries herself and listens to you always filled you with butterflies. making eye contact with her blue eyes made you dizzy. Her love for books makes you wish you didn’t get so flustered around her so you could ask her about what she’s currently reading.

There was something about Abby that had your heart wanting more. she always knew how to pull you in. Unfortunately, she was off limits. your older sister made you promise you wouldn’t complicate things and ruin her friendship, but it takes two to tango. the stolen glances and subtle touches can only last so long before Sarah gets suspicious. Neither you nor Abby have confessed any real feelings, but it was enough to raise red flags for Sarah.

You feel yourself getting nervous at the thought of seeing her again. You haven’t seen Abby since last summer since she wasn’t home for Christmas. the four of you camped out together at the beach since the weather was more tolerable compared to summer. Sarah and Jackie fell asleep, so the both of you laid down next to each other looking up at the stars. Abby was a nerd when it came to constellations. She pointed out every single one she found, then it got quiet letting you only hear the waves crashing.

You felt at peace and closed your eyes to take it all in. Abby turned her head and admired you as she always did. The next morning, you woke up to Abby holding you close to her chest; her breath tickling your neck. You look up to see the blonde deeply sleeping. Her eyes lashes so long and freckles covering her skin. Being an early bird has its perks when you wake up before your older sister sees you cuddling her best friend.

Your reminiscing is soon interrupted by your older walking into your room eating a sandwich and laying on your bed with Jackie.

Just in record time, Abby comes behind her but doesn’t go into your room. Instead, she leans against your doorway focusing on the one person.

Through your mirror your eyes made eye contact with the bluest eyes you’ve seen. her freckles covered her sun kissed skin. Her arms are crossed in front of her chest making her arms show off for you.

Abby’s eyes rake over your body, drinking in every curve before meeting your eyes again. She tried to be discreet but couldn’t help but admire you.

She thought you were glowing and couldn’t believe such beauty existed, but you always proved her wrong. She loved way your eyes crinkled with your laughed at her joke. Oh my god she thinks I’m funny. Those were one of the few times she saw your true personality.

SAY HI IDIOT. Abby’s mind screamed at her.

“Hi.”

Her voice filled with honey and softness. You feel your knees get week and feel a shiver run through your spine. Abby notices and smirks then looks away to let you breathe.

You mentally kick yourself for not evening answering. It's one word!! two letters!! stupid stupid stupid!!

Thankfully, your sister and Jackie were too busy in their own world to notice or so you thought.

“I’m sure it would be fun if Abby came with us!” you turn to Jackie with wide eyes who is smiling knowing what she’s doing.

𓆉⋆.˚ 333 °‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡

Since Sarah and Jackie went to the reptile exhibit, you and Abby stayed on a bench admiring the open ocean exhibit. Reptiles weren’t really your thing. The blue hues fill from the water paint the walls. It feels like the fish are moving in slow motion. You're in awe of the two stingrays swimming together it almost looks like they are dancing.

Although, the sea creatures were beautiful, Abby couldn’t focus when she felt your arm touching hers, or your hands brushing against each other when you were walking next to each other earlier. If only you knew how it took everything in her not to reach for your hand. she has been this close to you before but today felt different. The peace she was feeling was something she wouldn’t be able to put into words.

“Do you think seals have spots?” Abby asked as suddenly.

“Hm?” You missed her question when you turned to look at her. you feel a little embarrassed by how she can easily throw you off.

She laughs, “Do you think seals have spots? Owen swears up and down he saw one spotted. He says saw one and I haven’t heard the end of it. Not saying I want to prove him wrong but…” She trails off.

“Oh, definitely. Have you considered researching your question? I mean you do know how to use your phone, right or do you need assistance?” You laugh at her.

Abby playfully rolls her eyes, “You think you’re so funny, huh? I personally would love to see this seal in person.” She shrugs.

You laugh but this time Abby fully sees you. She wishes she could freeze time and just look at you forever. To make you laugh and smile every day.

“Do other people think you’re funny?”

Abby looks towards the fish tank shaking her head but still smiling, “No, they don't.”

For a moment you didn’t let your nerves hold you back, so you squeeze her bicep, “Let me be the first to tell you that you are very funny.”

You lay your hand back down to your lap, but Abby reaches for it and holds your palm up. She traces the lines on your hand and finally decides that it’s now or never.

It felt like she was on Saturn, and it was only the two of you. Nothing else mattered. All of her nerves were gone. It felt like a dream, but the warmth of your hand reminded her it was real.

“You're staring,” you whisper.

“I like looking at you,” Abby whispered back smiling.

Abby raises her hand reaching for your cheek. Her thumb gently rubbing your soft skin; scared to break you. She drags down her thumb to your lower lip sending a shiver down your spine. The world slowed down for the two of you. Abby admired every detail on your face just in case this was the last time she was this close. She could smell the coconut perfume you spayed earlier. She knew what color your eyes were, but they were so much better up close. Her eyes flickers from your lips to your eyes. Abby felt herself leaning towards you as if it was the most natural thing.

“Oh, are we interrupting something?” Jackie asked smiling.

Out of fear, Abby dropped your hand and pulled away from you. “N-no,” she stands up quickly and walks in front of you away from the group. Luckily, your sister didn’t see since she was walking a bit behind Jackie. The rest of your time at the aquarium Abby avoids looking at you after that. It's all gone.

𓆉⋆.˚ 444 °‧ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 ·｡

The car ride home was filled with tension. Abby had barely said a word to anyone. You sat in front while she drove back to your house staring at the raindrops that filled the window. Summer might be your favorite season, but hurricane season makes you wish it was over already.

You finally got the confidence to look at the blonde next to you and see nothing but an emotionless face. Her eyes aren’t the same blue you saw earlier. They look empty. Abby must have felt you staring because she sighed and made sure you heard it.

Your brain replays what happened earlier over and over like a record player. There was never a moment where Abby looked at you the way she did right now.

After what felt like hours, she drove into the driveway of your house. Your sister and Jackie quickly got out of the car leaving you alone with Abby. You felt a knot in your stomach and don’t feel words come out when you open your mouth. Out of habit you anxiously pick the skin on your fingers.

“Wanna come in? I think we’re going to order some pizza. Sarah always orders way too much food for us to finish,” you ask trying to break the tension.

Abby clears her throat, “Uh, I can’t tonight. rain check? I’m pretty tired it was a long day.” Her eyes never met yours since you were at the aquarium. You missed her blue eyes filled with love. Now you couldn’t tell what she was feeling.

“Oh sure! We have the whole-.”

“I think it’s getting late don’t you think? I’m sure they’re waiting for you,” she interrupts. You hear the irritation in her voice and almost leave, but you needed to ask her why she changed her attitude in a matter of seconds. You really thought today was the day you’d finally tell her what your heart feels. How you much you find her funny and think she deserves to have someone love her.

“What changed, Abby? I know it wasn’t only in my head what happened earlier, or did I imagine it?”

Abby sighs and looks towards her fingers, “You didn’t imagine it, but I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to be together. We're just good friends and I don’t think it’s the best thing to do. I mean what will you sister think?”

Her heart beats for you but she could never admit it to you. She's watched you go from relationship to relationship to break up to break up. yet, she can’t get the words out to tell you.

You scoff, “Just good friends, huh? you’re so full of shit, Abigail. I mean you were there! was I the only one who felt the feeling?”

“What feeling,” Abby asked confused.

“You know! the feeling! The feeling you get before you kiss someone for the first time. The excitement, anticipation, and butterflies in your stomach. The way your heart flutters when you finally kiss the girl you love!” You were talking so fast and just ranting now that you didn’t even notice you confessed your feelings to her.

“Wait what?” Abby was shocked but knew she shouldn’t be. She was there and so were you.

“Honestly, I don’t know why I’m here explaining this to you and expecting you to understand. Just next time, don’t look into a girl’s eyes and say you like looking at her if you’re planning to be an ass.” You open the car door and start running to your front door without getting soaked by the rain.

It took Abby two seconds to finally realize the girl of her dreams is running away from her. Abby ran out of her car leaving the door open without a care.

“Do you really want to know how I feel?!” she yelled out.

“I’ve never loved anyone like you! I’ve never felt so much peace before in my life! Everything about you consumes my being it’s frightening. This love I feel for you is so beautiful yet so scary. If choosing you means that I am losing your sister as a friend, then fine!”

You felt like your heart was beating so hard as you stared at Abby trying to process everything.

“And you couldn’t say all of that in the car, Abigail!? I have water in my shoes, I’m cold, and we-.”

Abby grabs you with both of her hands and kisses you. It takes you a couple seconds to process and kiss her back. Your eyes fluttered closed and you felt everything happening all at once. Her lips are softer than you imagined and so familiar. Your hands move to her braid making her moan into the kiss and letting you slip your tongue inside. She wrapped her arm around your waist bringing you closer to her.

“Wow…” you were breathless with your eyes still closed. When you finally opened them, Abby was smiling and looking into your eyes. She leans in again and whispers, “Can I do that again?”

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 12: My Heart Is Beating For You Constantly

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter twelve of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)

Word Count: 9.1K (I got really carried away)

Warnings: I'm going to label this one 18+ just in case. References to sex, Implied Sex, Heavy Making Out (not really explicit, but also not real un-detailed…), Cursing, Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soft Soldier Boy, Angst, Fluff.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics

A/N: The song they dance to is "You Call It Madness, But I Call It Love" by Russ Columbo.

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

1984

You take a sip of wine, leaning over your coffee table to pull another photo from the Rosewood box perched on the edge. It's your birthday, your 65th birthday to be exact, of course one look in the mirror revealed that you barely looked over 30. To some women that might be a welcome thought, but given your current situation it wasn't.

It marked the fourth year since you told Ben that you were unhappy on Payback and as a supe, told him that you wanted a normal life, and four years after you'd let him talk you into staying. But this was the year. You were going to tell him that you were done, that you were moving on and getting out.

Unfortunately the only person you had to convince about letting go was yourself, because leaving meant giving up Ben. And you weren't sure that was something you could do.  You were having a hard time convincing your heart to let go of him or rather the old version of him, that only made it's appearance when it was the two of you. The memories that tied you to Ben were tight and difficult to unravel. You couldn't imagine your life without him, couldn’t see past this moment in your life.

But that's why you had to go. You knew you were in too deep. Fantasizing about a  relationship with someone who would never love you the same way you loved them, hoping in something that would never happen. And you needed to let him go, whether it be the new version of him or the boy you used to know, you needed to let Ben go.

The Rosewood box was filled with photos, old doodles, memories, and objects from your past. Usually it was stored under your bed, but tonight you had dragged it out into the living room to reminisce on your birthday. It was a tradition you started a few years ago as a way of remembering the past. Sometimes it was a welcome distraction from the way things were now and tonight you were letting it be a last supper of sorts, to indulge in the memories Ben and you had shared over the years before you told him that you were leaving.

You had no idea where you were going, but the thought excited you a little bit. Finally striking out on your own for the first time, doing something for yourself for once, it felt right.

Leaving Ben was the only thing that felt wrong. You wanted him to come with you, for him to choose you the way that you chose him that night, but you knew he wouldn't. He liked this life too much to let it go, he thrived in the spotlight, embraced everything about being a supe that you hated, and so you would let him go.

You look down at the strip of paper in your hand. It was a collection of photos from a photo booth, yellowed with age, but lined up one by one from the first baseball game Ben ever took you to, one of your favorite memories from your childhood. You were wearing the ridiculous pinstriped hat and Ben looked as handsome as he always did, smiling wide with his dark hair hanging in his face. It was hard to look at it now, hard to look at Ben and you when you were so young, and you didn't know where your lives were going to go.

Your eyes drift to the velvet case pressed into the corner of the wooden box. You had kept the ring that Howard got you, well, technically you had tried to give it back but he refused, begging you to reconsider.

Sometimes you thought about throwing it away. It was ugly, but it was a reminder. Not a reminder of Howard, you could barely remember what he looked like, but it was a reminder of the night Ben asked you to come with him. You could remember the earnest look in his eyes, how he cupped your face, and the promise he made to you. The future he promised had been filled with so much possibility, but you weren’t sure anymore. You think about the years you'd spent together and how leaving felt like the end of an era.

But it was necessary, breaking away from all of this would be good. Yes you would miss Ben, but you needed to move on. You knew that deep down. Because you wanted something more than all of this, and the night Ben asked you to come with him you thought he could give it to you, but after all these years you understood that he couldn’t and that he didn’t want to.

Someone knocks loudly on your door.

“One second.” You take the last sip of wine before standing and crossing the room to open the door. “Hey what are you doing here?”

Ben is standing in the hallway outside your apartment, looking handsome as always. He's wearing a tailored dark suit with a black tie, his hair is combed back from his face, dark stubble graces his rugged jaw and a wide smile pulls up at the ends of his lips that makes it very hard to focus on anything else. “Happy Birthday Sweetheart.” 

“I’ve had too many birthdays.” You laugh and wave a hand to brush it off. “What are you doing here, I thought you had an interview about the premiere tomorrow?”

Tomorrow night was the premiere of the third and final installment of Anti-Communist films that Ben was currently staring in. The first two had been utterly ridiculous and you knew that the one tomorrow would be just as pointless. Which you knew for a fact, because one day Ben asked you to meet him on set and you saw a scene he was filming, not to mention one time he tried to get you to run lines with him and you told him you'd rather drop dead than read Countess' lines, who took the co-star role when you refused. Ben’s offer of the co-starring role to you had been his way of appeasing you after you told him you were unhappy. When you refused, Countess had been more than willing to slide into it.  Who was still trying her upmost to get into Ben's pants, but he still completely ignored her, which gave you an unmeasurable amount of joy.

“I told them that I couldn’t miss my girl's birthday.” Ben smiles wider. “Plus I’d much rather spend tonight with you than those fucking vultures and I’ve never missed your birthday.”

Instead of the words "my girl" filling you with happiness as they had the first night Ben said it in the dancehall, they only make you frustrated. He had called you that several times over the years you'd been friends and each time it made you more and more angry. You were tired of it. Tired of Ben acting like Ben only when it was the two of you. Tired of Ben acting like he cared and like he wanted to be more than friends only to crush you the next day. Tired that he called you “my girl” and then did nothing that meant more than friends.  You loved him more than you’d loved anyone ever, took care of him, did everything you could for him, and each time when he didn’t acknowledge it, you felt like you weren’t enough. It made you feel like a kid again when you tried your upmost to please your mother only to have her be disappointed in you each time.

“That’s sweet.” Anger and frustration burns in the back of your throat, but you push it down with a tight lipped smile.

“And I got us reservations, so go get dressed.”

"What?"

"I got reservations. Come on." Ben makes a gesture with his hand.

“Oh I’m okay, I was just going to-“ You motion back at the bottle of wine, the couch, and the box of photos.

“No. I’m not going to let you sit here on your birthday. Come on. Let’s go.” Ben takes your arm and turns you around gently pushing you towards the small hallway that leads back to your bedroom with his hand on the small of your back.

You brace yourself for the warmth that follows with the brush of his fingers against you, but each time you're unprepared for how it makes you feel when he touches you.

“But I don’t have anything to wear! And if you do have a reservation, how much time do I have?” You argue, trying to come up with an excuse to avoid dinner.

As much as you wanted to go, you didn't want to sit there and pretend to be happy. You were tired of doing that, but then you raise your head to look Ben in the eye.

He's smiling down at you the same way he always has, looking like the boy who climbed in your window after flunking out of boarding school to bring you paint and your resolve wavers. You hated saying no to him.

Damn it.

“By the time you stop making excuses it will be time to go. And as sexy as those pajamas are, you can’t wear them to a restaurant.” Ben teases, tugging on the bottom oversized paint-splattered shirt you were wearing

“Fine.” You grumble, cheeks flushing bright red as you snatch the shirt from his hand. “Give me ten minutes.”

"Shut up." Ben laughs from across the table at you. "Your mother loved me!"

His laughter is contagious, making your own release from your lips and ease the tension you are holding in your chest.

The Italian restaurant is small and filled with the soft lit of music from the band in the corner, the rich aromatic smell of food, and has the calming atmosphere of a intimate bar. When Ben parked out front, you were surprised. He usually liked the restaurants on page 6 where other heroes would be found eating and places where he could be photographed for the news, but this place was different, it was almost, special. And the way Ben was acting was unusual.

He'd walked around the car after he parked and took your hand in his, to lead you down the steps to the front door where a hostess had asked for his name. Ben had used his real name rather than Soldier Boy for a reservation and when you walked out of your bedroom wearing the dress you found at the back of your closet that you had for emergencies, you swore you saw his eyes darken as they trailed across your body making your breath catch in your chest. It was odd. Ben had taken you out for your birthday before, but tonight seemed to be filled with a palpable tension and electricity that you couldn’t place.

Then again, you were probably imagining it like always.

The restaurant was perfect, it made you forget about being a supe and the glamorous lifestyle that Ben indulged in and allowed you to pretend that you were normal. However, while you sat there together, you tried not to think about what you were going to have to tell him eventually, that you were leaving. He would ask for an answer why and you’d try to tell him the same thing you told him four years ago while avoiding screaming “because I love you, you fucking idiot” at the top of your lungs. 

But it was difficult to find a way to tell him, not when he had a soft smile on his face and every few minutes Ben would find some reason to touch you. So you allowed yourself to indulge in this, to have this last wonderful memory together before you have to tell him. And in doing so, you let yourself forget being a supe, forget everything else but Ben and you in this moment.

"Oh sure, you were her favorite." You snort into your wineglass. "She put a crucifix up over my window to keep you out. Every time you went to a new boarding school, she prayed in the living room with a rosary to God begging him to keep you far from me and she cried whenever you came back. Not to mention when you got me thrown out of boarding school she forbade me from seeing you-"

"But you couldn’t stay away." Ben sing-songs with a grin before taking a sip from his glass. "And your roommate was a fucking snitch."

"She was." You smile down at the table. "I also think she was a little jealous." You lean back in your chair, holding the wineglass in your right hand.

"Oh and why is that?" Ben's smirk widens.

"Don't make me say it-" Your eyes roll.

"Oh I want to hear you admit it." He leans towards you across the table, eyes shining with a mischievous glint that makes it suddenly hard to breathe.

“Not going to happen.”  You look around the room to distract yourself with the other couples.

All the tables around you were full of people sharing stories, holding hands, brushing feet under the table and for the first time you weren't jealous of their love. The couple next to you was practically breathing the same air, leaning towards each other with sappy looks in their eyes. You were happy for them, allowed yourself to be filled with compassion at their happiness. You remember what you said to Ben four years ago, about wanting to have someone to come home to, someone who loved you and then remember the night at the dancehall watching the elderly couple dance under the twinkling lights holding each other close and gazing deeply into one another's eyes.

You wanted someone to look at you like that, wanted someone to share you life with. You wanted that so badly, that in this moment you knew that you were making the right decision leaving because you would be closer to getting it, because the man across the table from you might be your best friend and have your heart, but he didn’t want to be more. And as much as it hurt to leave the only man you’d ever loved,  you knew it was the right thing.

Ben taps his index finger on your left hand where it rests on the table between you, drawing your eyes back to his. "Did I lose you Doll?"

"Hmm? No sorry. I was-" You smile at him. "Distracted. What were you asking?"

Ben's gaze shifts to the couple sitting to your right, the one you were watching a second ago, who are holding hands on top of the table. The man says something that makes his date laugh and lean towards him to grasp his other hand. The way he smiles at his date makes you smile. Ben's eyes slide back to yours and an odd look flashes through them that you can't identify.

"You know what I was asking." His index finger begins to brush over your knuckles in a smooth circular motion. Warmth trails with his touch, sending goosebumps dancing up your left arm.

Shock buzzes at the back of your mind, you didn't understand why he was doing that, Ben had barely had anything to drink tonight, in fact that was his first and only Whiskey. Not to mention when he showed up at your door he seemed more sober than usual. He didn't smell like reefer. So for him to touch you this much was unusual, especially when he wasn't drunk or high.

“Come on Sweetheart.” He smiles at you in a way that makes your heart ache.

"Fine. Pearl thought you were devilishly handsome and was upset that I danced with you when I had Howard-"

"Don't mention that pussy." Ben’s smirk drops into a frown and he stops moving his finger against the back of your hand.

"I don't understand why you were so jealous of him." You try not to think about how much you wish he would start moving his finger again.

"I was not jealous of that idiot." Ben rolls his eyes.

"Uh-huh. After all these years, you still can't admit it." You tease him taking another sip of wine. It was giving you a pleasant buzz that made you feel just a little bit warm and bold enough to make you brush your thumb against his where his hand sits only a few millimeters from yours.

If he was touching you, you thought that maybe it would be okay for you to touch him, maybe it was okay to pretend that he wanted to hold your hand as much as you wanted to hold his, like the couple next to you were.

"I will if you admit you were jealous of Missy Callahan." Ben's eyes trail down to your thumb before looking back up at you, waiting for your answer.

"I was not-"

Ben raises an eyebrow. “I can hear your heartbeat Doll.”

“Just as I can hear yours Darling.” You smile back at him.

“Y/n.” He chuckles.

You roll your eyes at his ridiculous smile. "Fine, I will admit that was a little jealous of her, but she was awful.  She was dumb as a rock and she was the most terrible gossip-"

"I knew it." Ben smirks.

You sit there in silence for a minute gazing at Ben, your eyebrow raised. "I'm waiting."

"Oh I'm not going to admit that I was jealous of Howard. I just wanted to hear you say the thing about Missy." Ben laughs, beginning to run his index finger against the back of your hand again. His eyes on yours, as if he's gauging your reaction.

"Bastard." You roll your eyes at him. "Did I tell you that I saw Howard?"

"What?" Ben looks surprised.

"Yeah, when I went to my brother's-" You clear your throat remembering when you saw Howard four years ago. You don’t know why he went to your brother’s funeral, but he was there, gray hair slicked back staring at you open mouthed. The last time you'd seen him was the day after he proposed, when you tried to give him back the ring and he refused, stating that he wanted you to keep it, to think about it. He never got over the break up, never dating anyone else, never married. It had been an awkward reunion, especially since he kept trying to corner you, but you evaded him expertly through the crowd. You weren't interested in making awkward small-talk about the past forty years.

Ben's hand finally slips into yours, intwining your fingers together because he understands what you’re about to say. "I'm sorry I didn't go with you, I should have."

It was weird that Ben wasn’t with you, but it was also weird because you tried to comfort your sister in law and her son and his family, but it felt forced. Ben was the only person who understood what it was like for everyone to age around you while you stayed the same. Standing there to celebrate the life of your brother while you, yourself couldn't die completely or even age felt awkward. You found yourself longing for Ben when you were away, wishing that he was there to hold your hand or try to deflect some of the awkward conversations, none of which were focused on your brother and were all about you being a supe. You hated how much you depended on him.

After the funeral you had stayed in Philadelphia an extra week to help your family and when Ben called to see how you were you broke down on the phone. Ben had showed up within the next hour at your hotel and sat with you while you cried. It was one of your favorite memories, because Ben held you gently against him, whispering "It's okay Sweetheart, I've got you" while you pressed your face into his shirt, letting the smell of whiskey and his cologne soak into your skin. It was so unlike him and it made you believe that Ben wanted more, but then he never acknowledged it, like always.

"Ben it's okay, you were there when it mattered. And you went to both of my parent's funerals. Surprising because my mother would have hated that you were there. Always said you were going to ruin my life." You meant for it to be a joke, but the look in Ben's eyes shifts to something more vulnerable for a millisecond before it hardens again.

"Did I?" He asks quietly. Ben looks down at where he was holding your hand, his thumb beginning to move over the smooth skin on the back.

The question catches you off guard. It was the very question that you had been considering the past few days before you finally decided to leave all of this and your best friend. But the truth was you didn't believe that Ben ruined your life, you blamed yourself, blamed yourself for loving your best friend, blamed yourself for loving someone who didn’t love you the same way.

And it wasn’t that you hated your life, it was different than what you would have planned for yourself, but you liked parts of it. Not to mention you would have hated it more if you had said no to Ben and married Howard. If anything, Ben had saved you and you were thankful for that.

Of course the way he's looking at you and holding your hand is making it difficult for you to consider leaving. It seemed like every time you tried, Ben would do something like this- take you out to dinner or act like he wanted you and only you, and then you would reconsider. Four years ago it had been him holding you after your brother’s funeral and now it was this.

"Ben." You sigh, squeezing his hand and putting as much love into your gaze as you can. "No. You didn't. If anything you freed me. I didn't want to be with Howard and I was too afraid to say it until you asked me to come with you.”

“He could have given you a life though. You said that’s what you wanted.” For a second you think you see Ben’s eyes flick to the couple on your right with his words.

Your mind stutters to a halt in surprise. He remembered what we talked about four years ago? After he almost killed Noir?

“Um-" You clear your throat to recover. "And if you remember that conversation, you should also remember I said I didn’t want that life with Howard.”

“Yes, but you said you wanted to marry someone.” The ends of his lip twitches, but he doesn’t smile. “Still waiting on that wedding invite.” His thumb is stroking long smooth patterns on the back of your hand, making your throat tight and making it impossible to think.

“I’m sure you’ll get it any day now. Legend is happy that I finally said yes.”

“I should have known. Y’all looked pretty cozy at that party two weeks ago.” Ben laughs. “So if you’re engaged to him, does that mean you don’t want your birthday present?”

“I’ve said it once and I’ve said it again, I’m too old for birthdays.”

“Then why did you come out with me?”

“Oh I’m just going to write this off as old friends having dinner. That or a kidnapping. You practically dragged me to the car.”

“Be thankful I let you change.” Ben replies.

“I don’t know, I think I would have really made a statement with my paint splattered shirt and sweatpants."

You’d chosen the dress you were wearing at random. It was a dark green, the same color as Ben’s supe suit, off your right shoulder cinched around your waist and fell elegantly to your ankles. It was one of your favorites, something you believed accentuated your body effortlessly.

"They were something. Though I think that you-" Ben pauses, dropping his eyes to where he's still holding your hand, before looking back up at you. "Um-"

"What?" You smile.

He clears his throat, a soft smile on his face. "I think you look beautiful now too."

Your next words dry up in your mouth, there's not a shred of joking or teasing in Ben's eyes. Ben had said it before, but with a mischievous glint in his eyes, but now there is only sincerity. And it makes your heart jolt out of rhythm.

He said too. That means that he thought I looked beautiful before when I was-

"Thank you." You flush red and squeeze his hand. "I don't think you look too bad yourself, you know, for a old man." You add that last part because you don’t know what to say when he's looking at you like that.

Ben's smile slips into a frown. "You should be nicer to me, I got you a birthday present."

“See, you keep saying that, but I haven’t seen it.”

“I thought you didn’t want it.” The mischievous glint is back in his eye.

“I could be persuaded.” You smirk.

Ben releases your hand and reaches into his coat pocket to pull out a long navy blue velvet box wrapped in a thick silver bow before sliding it across the white tablecloth.

“You get me another paintbrush?” You smirk running a fingertip over the velvet top to examine it while acutely missing the feeling of his hand grasped in yours.

“Something like that.”

“Did you steal it?” You pick up the box and wave it for emphasis, remembering all the times Ben stole little things from the stores that lined Downtown Philadelphia and the box he had hidden under his bed filled with random trinkets.

You never understood why he did that. Ben's family was almost as wealthy as yours and although his father didn't approve of anything Ben was doing, he never cut him off.

“Maybe.” He shrugs and leans on the table towards you, his eyes filled with excitement.

“With how much money they pay you for those ridiculous films you shouldn’t be stealing anything.”

“I’m sure if you sold your artwork instead of shoving it in the closet you’d be just as wealthy as me.”

“Yes, but my grand plan is to have you pay for everything so I can continue to use you and I can’t do that if I’m rich."

“You can use me anytime sweetheart.” Ben winks.

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes at him, but can't stop the blush that stains your cheeks at his insinuation.

Everything about tonight felt just like old times, the way he joked with you and the way you couldn't stop smiling, but at the same time, something else nagged at the back of your mind. The handholding was new, as were the compliments and deeper conversation, especially because Ben wasn't drunk or high, and yet he was being gentler than usual, almost soft. And that was something Ben never was, at least not in public.

You tried not to be frustrated with the turn of events and just enjoy the moment, but deep down you wanted to know.

Was Ben doing this because he cared? Or was he doing this because he sensed I was unhappy and that I was leaving and he thought this was the only way to keep me around?

“Come on, open it.”

“Fine.” You smile down at the box and slowly slide off the bow. “Please tell me you have photos of you trying to tie this bow. Preferably while you were wearing your supe suit.”

“I already destroyed the evidence.”

 “Figures.” You sigh. “Would have been a nice birthday present.”

“I think this is better, but given the pace you’re going at I’ll still be sitting here waiting for you to open it at your next birthday.” Ben takes a drink from his glass.

“Which I won’t be celebrating.”

"Oh you're going to. I’ll make sure.” 

You roll your eyes at him, before finally opening the velvet box and your next joke is forgotten as you struggle to catch your breath. You were expecting something art related. Ben always got you brushes, paints, colored pencils, and any other art supply-like gift, because he knew that you liked those things but not tonight. Because for your 65th birthday Ben decided to get you something that took your breath away.

Nestled in black velvet is a pearl necklace, elegant, beautiful, catching in the fluttering warm light of the restaurant as the band in the corner continues to play a jazzy tune that makes you remember the records your father would listen to while he smoked before bedtime.

“Ben-“ You begin to say, but you can’t finish your sentence, you're too surprised to say anything else.

Not once in all the years you’d been friends had Ben bought you jewelry. Shopping for his birthday was harder, his last one you had gotten him a pair of silver cufflinks that he was currently wearing, but each time you bought him something like that it didn't feel like you were revealing too much about how you felt and it never felt like a gift you would give someone who was more than your friend. But now, staring down at the necklace that Ben bought you feels, intimate almost romantic.

“I remembered how upset you were when you lost the one your dad got you.” Ben says slowly, his eyes on you. “I know it’s not the same one, but the lady in the store said it was the most like the ones they made when we were younger and I thought-“ He rubs the back of his neck. “Um- I thought you’d like it.”

You smile, still unable to speak, fighting the happy tears that build behind your eyes. You had lost the necklace your father got you a few months ago and you tore your entire apartment apart to find it. Ben had walked right into the middle of the chaos and found you a sobbing mess.

Your father had bought it for you on your 23rd birthday. It was your first birthday as a supe and your first one away from home. Your father had it delivered to you with a vase of fresh cut lavender, because you couldn’t go home and he couldn’t get away.  It was one of the last things you had from him, besides the antique watch perched on your wrist.

“I can’t believe you remembered that.” You swallow the ball of emotion lodged in your throat.

“I do listen to you.”

You look up and raise an eyebrow.

“Sometimes.” His soft smile makes you feel light headed and makes you wish all over again that you had the courage to tell Ben the three little words that you'd always wanted to.

“I don’t know what to say-“

“Too much? Because I can take it back and buy you a paintbrush-“ Ben starts to reach for the box, but you catch his hand against the table tangling your fingertips together.

“No. It's perfect. Thank you Ben.”

He looks relieved by your answer. “You’re welcome.”

The soft sounds of conversation swell around you mixing with the tinkling of utensils against plates and the music that pours from the band in the corner where a singer dressed in a long red sequined gown sings a familiar song. But you can't stop admiring the necklace nestled in the fabric, your hand still clasped in Ben's on top of the table.

Ben finally breaks the silence. “Do you want me to help you put it on?”

You blink for a minute to comprehend what he was asking, raising your eyes to his genuine smile. "Please.”

Ben stands from his chair and comes around behind you as you gently twist your hair out of the way, so he has access to your neck. His rough fingertips brush against the smooth skin of your neck sending a shiver down your spine that you hope Ben misses because how would you explain that? When he secures it at the back of your neck you look down at the pearls, holding them between your thumb and forefinger.

"They're beautiful." You whisper, before looking back up at him.

"Yes, beautiful." He responds, but Ben isn't looking at your necklace, his eyes are locked on your face.

What is going on?

"Ben-" You begin to say, attempting for the first time to ask him why he does this, acts different around you, gives you hope and then takes it all away, but he interrupts you.

"Come on." His hand falls on yours and he pulls you up out of your chair, weaving through the other tables to stand in front of the band in the corner. His right hand finds the small of your back, while his left gently holds your right in the air.

"What are you doing?" You ask.

"Isn't it obvious?" Ben smiles. "We're dancing."

"No one else is dancing." You look around the room at the couples sitting quietly together enjoying their meals, who have begun to watch Ben and you sway to the music.

He leans forward to whisper into the curve of your ear. "Then let's show them how it's done Sweetheart."

You can't help but laugh at him, enjoying the way that he feels pressed against you, how it makes you feel alive in the best way, how you feel safe in his arms. Being here, swaying to the last few notes of the song with him made you reconsider leaving again. Ben was the only person who knew you completely, inside and out, the only person who seemed to understand you. Choosing to leave him would be like choosing to leave home, because after everything you'd been through, Ben was home.

As soon as the song ends, the one that follows is familiar, a tune that sparks a memory at the back of your mind. You raise your eyes to Ben's. His are crinkled with his smile, a mischievous glint behind them.

"Ben, did you tell them to play-"

"Yeah. I told them to play our song." He whispers, holding you tighter against him.

The memory of the night you first danced warms against your skin. You remembered it well. It was the night that you almost told him you loved him, the same thing you were considering right now. You couldn't believe that he remembered the song you danced to. You smile at the memory of that night, when Ben punched Howard in the face and it gave you a sickening amount of joy.

“What are you smiling at?” Ben asks you.

“I still can’t believe you hit him.” You shake your head with a laugh.

"He hurt you. And I didn't like that he made me stop dancing with my girl."

You sigh before you can stop yourself the phrase immediately making the laughter dissipate and making the warm feeling at his touch fade. Tonight Ben was again making you think that he wanted to be more, and worst of all it was making it harder to leave. Because what if this was him trying to tell you the only way he knew how? What if this was him finally admitting that he loved you and you just left?

"What?” He frowns down at you.

“I don’t know why you keep calling me that.”

"What?"

"Your 'girl'." You bite the inside of your cheek to keep the frustration from making you say more.

 “You don't think you are?"

“What do you think it means? To me it means being in a relationship with someone. We have been friends for over fifty years and you have never once said that you wanted to be more-"

"I did try to propose.” Ben jokes, not understanding that you’re upset.

"Really? That was your proposal?" You scoff rolling your eyes. "A joke while you were sitting on my shitty couch drunk off your ass while trying to apologize for almost killing Noir and telling me that you hate when I get in your way?  Forgive me for imagining some big gesture and for not swooning."

“I wasn’t that drunk.”

“Oh please-“

“I’m fucking serious.” He shrugs.

“What?” You look him in the eye to look for the teasing glint, but it's not there, Ben looks serious.

“I wasn’t that drunk.”

“Don’t tease me.”

“I’m not.” Ben’s eyes lock with yours. “I also didn’t apologize for almost killing him. And I do hate when you get in my way." 

"Yes, I figured that given how angry you looked." You roll your eyes, glancing to look at the couples around you again, but this time the happiness you felt for them is gone. The jealousy is back coupled with the frustration of Ben acting like Ben and then pulling a complete 180 the next day and making you question everything. Because you wanted to exist in the moments that he was still Ben and you didn’t want to leave him, but you did want to leave Soldier Boy. The problem was right now all you saw was Ben and you hated that you couldn’t enjoy it because you knew it would end. Someone would piss him off or he’d get drunk or high or go down the rabbit hole with some other woman and Ben would be gone.

You didn’t understand how he could go from hot to cold so quickly.

“But I didn’t lie when I said I’d never hurt you.” Ben's voice rumbles up through where his chest is pressed against yours.

You want to say that you believe him, but after the past forty years you weren’t sure anymore. And that thought hurt more than anything else. You didn’t know your best friend anymore, and it scared you.

Your eyes are leveled on Ben’s chest, by now he’s stopped swaying you to the music. You know what will happen when you look up into his eyes, he'll make a joke or say something like the last forty years never happened and you'll crumble like always. You can feel his breath against your face, the warmth of his body transferring through his chest and soaking into yours.

“Y/n, please look at me.” He releases your hand and cups your cheek to tilt you head upwards to him. The one still planted on your back slides down to your waist, tightening around you as you lock eyes with him. “You know that I’d never hurt you. Right?”

Ben's eyes lock on yours, the love and care reflected in the irises makes your body burn. He's never looked at you like that, looked at you like you were the only woman in the world and deep down it makes you want to pull him close and whisper the three little words you've wanted to say for fifty seven years.

You focus on Ben's words to shake it off, it was the same thing he’d said four years ago, but this time the air between you is charged with electricity.

And you can’t take it anymore.

“Why?” You whisper.

It catches him off guard. “What?”

“Why are you different with me? When the cameras stop rolling, when the team goes home, when it’s just the two of us, you’re different." You stop to catch your breath.  "Ben, I’ve known you for fifty seven years. And in the last forty you’ve changed. But not around me, not when it’s just the two of us. You show up at my apartment in the middle of the night, we talk, we laugh about the past, you sleep in my bed, you call me 'your girl'-”

“You’ve known me longer than anyone else-” His hand is still cupping your cheek now, thumb gently brushing against the smooth skin making your throat tight.

“But even before all this, when we were still in Philadelphia. You were always around me, showing up, taking me out to do things in the city. Ben, we both know how you are. I watched you chase after whatever caught your eye and even now-“ You shake your head frustrated. “But you never act that way with me.”

Ben is quiet for a minute, his eyes searching yours, soft green in the fluttering lights above your heads. “Because you’re different y/n. You’ve always been different.”

“But that doesn’t tell me why Ben. We’ve been doing this for so long and I want-“ You sigh frustrated with yourself because you can’t say it, can’t say that you want him. “I mean I’m not sure if I can-“ You were going to say that you weren’t sure you could do this anymore, that you wished he would let you go, wished that you could walk away, and wished that he would stop giving you hope that the two of you could be something more because you couldn’t do it.

But the words are stopped when his lips meet yours.

You inhale sharply in surprise, before your entire body melts against his, deepening the kiss as you drag your hands up into his dark hair, while your mind goes blissfully blank. Ben’s mouth is firm but tender against yours, moving in a slow dance that makes warm tingles trail down your spine. The hand that was on your cheek, joins the other on your waist. His hand tightens on your hip as your song continues to play while the other presses against the small of your back to secure you against him. The solidness of his chest is familiar, molding against your curves in the best way as if he was made for you and you were made for him. You feel his thumb begin to circle slowly against the fabric on your hipbone and suddenly you remember the night he helped you loosen your corset and all you wanted was him. You never thought it would feel like this.

When you finally pull away for air, Ben doesn’t let you go far, he leans his forehead against yours, the look in his eyes is surprisingly vulnerable, as if he thinks you’re going to push him away.

“I-“ He begins, his green eyes are wide almost afraid.

Why?

You raise your hands to gently cup his strong jaw, searching his eyes with a smile to confirm you aren't going anywhere, before pulling him back to you for another kiss that makes your toes curl in the tight shoes you forced them into an hour ago. Ben sighs into your mouth, a soft sound that surprises you. You had seen him kiss other people before. Ben was anything but gentle, but now you believed that he reserved that gentleness just for you and it made you feel like you were going to melt into a puddle.

When you pull back again, Ben’s forehead is still against yours, his eyes bright and unmoving from your face. For a moment neither of you speaks, too afraid to break the silence.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours Sweetheart?” Ben asks, the deep rumble of his voice working up through where your chest is pressed against his. His expression is gentle, and he brings up one of the hands that was on your waist to trace the pillow of your lips with his thumb.

And before you lose your nerve your smile curves into a smirk.  “Took you long enough Benjamin.”

“Shut up.” He rolls his eyes at you.

“Make me.” You mutter against his thumb.

And then he’s kissing you again, moving his lips in tandem with yours while your heart flutters and dances. And you never want it to end, because he's kissing you like he never wants to let you go and you're kissing him like you don't want him to.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Ben mutters against your lips with a smile, his deep eyes catching yours. "Don't be jealous of Missy Callahan. She's nothing compared to you, never has been, never will be."

Your heart warms, cheeks blushing with his words, because even after all these years, Ben still knew exactly what to say. You hold his face reverently, admiring the familiar dips and curves, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. "Don't be jealous of Howard. He meant nothing to me. No one means as much to me as you do Ben."  You whisper back before you kiss him and allow yourself to fall again, hoping that this time he’ll catch you.

“Did you want something to drink?” You ask Ben, gesturing with your free hand towards the kitchen.

Standing in your apartment feels different post kiss. It feels like this all represents something bigger now. The apartment, him coming upstairs even though he has spent most of the nights here since you bought it and of course the way he’s looking at you, how he’s been unable to stop looking at you since he kissed you.

“Are you going to get it for me?” Ben is still holding your hand, had held it the entire car ride, only releasing it when he got out to open the door for you and then took it again as you walked up to your apartment. His thumb is moving across the back in a soothing motion that makes you want to curl up in the warmth that trails behind like a cat in the sun.

“I’m sure you remember where it is”

“Mhmm.” Ben is eyeing you again, the green in his eyes darkening in a way that makes your throat tight.

You’re not sure who moves first, all you know is that someone closes the distance between you, and you lose yourself in him. Your curves melt against the hard muscles of Ben’s chest and arms as he pulls you into him, his hands  gripping your waist so tight that you know there might be bruises but you don’t care.

Your hands trail up his muscular chest to tangle in his hair, pulling at the darkened strands and forcing his mouth harder against yours.

He tastes like whiskey and smoke, night and day, and all those bittersweet moments you’ve shared over the years you’ve known him. There is no semblance of Soldier Boy left behind, it’s just Ben and you and it's everything you wanted for so long. The kiss is charged with so much emotion and tension you feel something inside you snap and warmth floods your body in its wake. Ben moans into your mouth, his hands coming down to sweep low over your curves and ignites a fire in the pit of your stomach that you’ve never felt before.

There had been others try to do exactly this. Other heroes you politely declined because you didn’t feel anything for them. You remember the kisses with Howard, passionless, boring, but being here with Ben was like nothing you’d ever imagined. The subtle scratch of his scruff against your cheeks makes you lose all feeling in your legs, his strong embrace makes goosebumps burn against your skin, and the sounds he’s making against your lips makes your heart seize in your chest.

He backs you up and you both fall on the couch in a tangle of limbs, his body caging you beneath him while his fingertips boldly trail against your body, finding places that make you moan into his mouth.

You can feel his smirk against your lips and you’ve never felt more sexy in your life. Ben’s moans against every piece of skin he can get his lips against make you blush crimson and echo his cries with soft sounds that make him grip you tighter. His hands are everywhere, coaxing along your curves, discovering places that you didn’t know could be sensitive and that make you gasp and arch against him as he continues to kiss you.

Everything about this feels right, feels perfect, as if you were both made for this exact moment. The subtle drag of his hands against you, the firm assertive way he holds you beneath him, how your body responds to his touch, and the way your heart continues to swell in your chest, frantically beating as if it wishes to break free. You forget about all the other women he's ever been with, all the others he's probably held close, nothing else exists at this moment, nothing else exists except him and you here on this couch. His lips ghost to your neck as he sucks a mark into the column of your throat and you realize he's saying your name over and over the way that no one ever has.

There’s a loud ripping noise and you understand that Ben ripped off the bottom half of your dress, the tattered remains just barely brushing against your thighs. But you can’t be angry with him for that, not when everything he’s doing feels perfect.

Ben’s hands slowly begin to push up the bottom of your now ruined dress and you come back down from your high, feeling the gentle press of his fingers against your thigh as they begin to move upwards.

“Ben-" You breathe.

You hate how breathy your voice sounds, but the new sensations running through your body are almost too overwhelming for you to gain control of. If you weren't both as indestructible as you were you would be afraid of the possibility of killing Ben.

He moans into your neck, working his hand up further to a place that makes your grip his shoulders tight and you leave bruises of your own, because you’re the only person strong enough to bruise him, to leave marks against his almost invulnerable skin. And it makes a shudder go down his spine.

"Ben wait-"

He stops, looking down at you with wide eyes, pupils dilated in a way that almost sends you back into a frenzy with him. "What's wrong?" He is also out of breath, chest rising and falling fast. You can hear his heart beat thundering in his chest, beating in tandem with yours.

“Before we do this I just want to tell you that I’ve never-" You bite your lip nervously. "I've never done this before.”

“This?” He looks confused, withdrawing his hand from under your ruined dress.

“Well- you know." You gesture between the two of you. "This.”

"You've never had sex with anyone before?"

"No." You flush bright red wondering if that's a deal breaker for him. If he wanted someone more experienced. "I’m sorry."

He sits there for a minute, staring down at you. "Why are you apologizing?” Ben’s hand brushes your hair away from your face in a gentle gesture, so different than the heavy caresses of his hands against your curves he did earlier.

“I don’t know.” You whisper embarrassed. “I just- everyone else has and I’m pretty sure you have with millions of people.”

“Well not millions.”

“But still.” You suddenly think that this was a giant mistake, that you should just go to your room in shame. You drop your eyes to his chest embarrassed.

His hands are stroking along your waist, toying with the frayed edges of your dress. “Y/n.” He whispers.

“What?” You mumble.

Ben raises his hand to cup your cheek, turning your gaze back on him. The way he’s looking at you causes a hot jolt of energy to race down your spine and makes you wish that you were more confident or knew what you were doing.

 He’d been with hundreds of women all kinds of women and what had I been doing all these years? Nothing and no one. I’m not really sure if I understood the mechanics OF sex- but oh how I wished. My head was just getting in the way of everything else as usual.

“I will admit that I have slept with a lot of women.” Ben sighs. “But it’s okay. We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to-“

“I want to.”

 “Are you sure? I don’t know if I’m the best person for this-“ And for a moment you think he looks almost worried.

Why would he think that?

“I’m sure. I want it to be you. I’ve always wanted it to be you.” You breathe, running your hands through his hair, your cheeks flushing bright red with your confession, afraid that you’re saying too much, giving too much away as to how much he means to you.

“Really?” Ben smiles in a way that makes your breath catch.

You nod.

“I can’t promise it won’t hurt.” The darkness in his eyes shifts to something else and for a moment it’s difficult for you to form a sentence. He leans his forehead against yours, searching your eyes.  “I don’t want to hurt you.” Ben whispers it like a secret.

“You’re not going to hurt me. I trust you Ben.” You whisper, knotting you hands in his hair.

“You do?”

You nod your head. “And I’m pretty sure that I’m just as capable of hurting you-“

“Maybe.” The look in his eyes is back, blazing through his green irises in a way that makes your throat swell closed. He bends over to whisper against the curve of your ear. “Then again, I kinda like that Sweetheart.” His lips brush just behind your right ear, making a shiver go down your spine. Ben smiles at your reaction before he dips down to kiss you, but it’s different, the kiss is soft, trusting, and not the previous manic haze of desire it was previously. “ I know you think it’s a big deal, but I like that I’m your first. Because it means that no other man has touched you, made you feel any of the things that I’m going to do to you, and that I’ll never have to share you with anyone else.” His grip on your waist tightens possessively. “That you’ll be completely and utterly mine and no one else can do a damn thing.”

You inhale and try not to faint from the darkened look in his eyes. “Well when you put it that way-“

“Come on.” Ben stands from the couch.

Before you can get up to follow he picks you up like you weigh nothing causing you to automatically wrap your thighs around his waist as he kisses you feverishly again, wiping your mind of anything and everything but him.

“What are you doing?” You breathe, entangling your hands at the nape of his neck to secure yourself.

“I’m not going to let your first time be on some shitty couch.” He mutters against your lips while adjusting his grip under your legs

And with that he takes you down the hall and kicks your bedroom door closed behind you.

A/N: Well it finally happened. Unfortunately this is also when all hell breaks loose…

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist for this series let me know :)

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[foreverisntenough]

‘Act II’

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

Index

Warnings: This series is 18+ MDNI

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

Chapter 15 - 'Le Château’ | ‘Act II’

word count - 11.6k

When you woke up the next day still in Paris with Jude it felt both unbelievable and romantic, like stepping into a scene from a dream. The warmth of his arm wrapped around you, the soft glow of the morning light filtering through the curtains, and the faint sounds of the city waking up outside—it all felt impossibly perfect. 

After getting ready for the day, you sadly had to leave your dream tucked inside the Four Seasons and headed back to your family’s home. You led Jude down the hallway, through the house, and to a private elevator that descended into the garage. The sleek, polished doors slid open, and you stepped out, with Jude trailing behind, still groggy from probably staying up a bit too late messing about between the sheets but his eyes still glimmered with curiosity. The sight that greeted him snapped him out of it immediately. His jaw practically hit the floor when he saw the black Bugatti Bolide parked in front of you. The car’s dark, glistening curves reflected the garage lights, every inch of it screaming luxury. You casually moved toward it, pulling open the door with ease as if this wasn’t a rare, multimillion-dollar car. Jude blinked, trying to process what was happening.

“Y/N….What... what is this?” Jude finally managed to ask, his voice filled with awe and confusion. You couldn’t help but laugh at his reaction. 

“It’s my dad’s car,” you said, like it was no big deal. “I told you it’s a thing. I wouldn’t normally drive it, but… well, you heard the request.” You smiled.  Jude looked at you, then back at the car, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“I’m definitely not complaining,” he said with a grin. You gave him a playful smirk as you slipped into the driver’s seat, glancing up at him. 

“You know,” you teased, “you really should learn how to drive. Might come in handy one day.” Jude raised an eyebrow, leaning against the car door, a playful yet conflicted look on his face. He was torn. He had never been more attracted to you, sitting there behind the wheel of one of the most beautiful cars he had ever seen, dressed in an effortlessly chic outfit that somehow made the whole thing even more intoxicating. But then again, he couldn’t stop his mind from drifting back to last night—flashes of your skin, your warmth, and how he felt tangled up with you in bed. His thoughts bounced between the sight of you now and the memory of you then, and he couldn’t quite decide which version of you made his heart race more.

“It’s a tough call,” Jude finally said, stepping closer and running a hand along the car’s sleek frame. “I think watching you drive this might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen... but last night? That might be rival it.” You chuckled, shaking your head as you started the engine, the roar of the car filling the garage. 

“Well, if you’re lucky,” you said, giving him a mischievous look, “you’ll get to enjoy both today.” Jude grinned, hopping into the passenger seat. 

“I’m the luckiest guy in France right now.” You eased the car onto the road, the hum of the engine harmonizing with the soft buzz of Paris fading into the distance. As the cityscape gave way to rolling countryside on the route to Burgundy, you glanced over at Jude, smiling as the sunlight began to dance across his skin. His usual golden complexion was now kissed with a warm tint, the soft rays making his features even more striking. Jude sat back in his seat, eyes half-closed, but his senses were fully alive. The sound of the Bugatti was intoxicating, a deep, guttural purr that made him smile almost unconsciously. He tilted his head toward you, still relaxed but obviously impressed. “Alright, I’ll admit it,” he said, glancing at the dashboard, then back at you. “Maybe I really should learn how to drive... this is too good to miss out on.” He told you. You laughed, glancing at him with a playful shake of your head. 

“I’ll help you,” you promised, your voice light. “But don’t get too excited—driving my dad’s car is like being on the final level of a video game. You’re not starting here.” Jude leaned back in his seat with a mock sigh, putting on his most devastatingly cute pout. 

“Really? No Bugatti on my debut?” he teased, his lower lip sticking out just a little. You shot him a quick, amused glance before focusing back on the road. 

“Sorry, baby. Not unless you plan on running before you can walk,” you quipped. Jude chuckled, feigning disappointment but clearly loving the back-and-forth. 

“I’m a fast learner, you know. Maybe I’ll surprise you.” He cooed. 

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll surprise me in more ways than one,” you teased back, smiling as you settled into the easy rhythm of the drive. The sun continued to rise higher in the sky, casting long, golden beams that bathed the French countryside in a warm, inviting glow. You felt the weight of Jude’s gaze on you, and the freedom of the open road. It was one of those perfect moments, where the world seemed to slow down just enough to let you savor every second. And a few hours later, as the car slowed to a stop on the stone driveway of your family’s château in Burgundy, you felt a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling up inside you. Jude had been calm for most of the drive, but now, sitting beside you, you could feel a slight tension in him. The fields filled with rows and rows of grape alleys framing the massive country home. He adjusted his sunglasses as his eyes scanned the figure standing in front of the grand estate. You could just barely see through the tint of the lenses, his eyes narrowing into a squint. Your mother stood there, as elegant as ever, waiting with a smile that could both warm your heart and send shivers down your spine. Dressed in a sleek, effortlessly chic outfit with a scarf wrapped loosely around her neck, she looked like the epitome of French sophistication. Jude, who had grown used to your descriptions of her, was now seeing her in the flesh, and you could tell he was both intrigued and slightly intimidated. He took a deep breath, then got out of the car, walking around to your side to open the door for you like a true gentleman. You stepped out and he slipped his hand into yours, a subtle gesture of reassurance for both of you. As you approached your mother, you gave her a bright toothy smile, feeling a little giddy introducing Jude to her.

"Maman!" you said warmly, your heart racing just a bit, "this is Jude… my boyfriend." Your mother’s eyes lit up with a mixture of surprise and delight, her perfectly painted lips curving into a wide smile. 

"Oh là là!" she gasped in excitement, her voice spilling over in that typical French fashion. "Enfin! Look at you both!" Before either of you could react, she moved forward, pulling Jude into a hug. For a brief moment, you saw a flicker of shock cross his face—this was not the cool, reserved French mother he had been expecting. But then he quickly recovered, smiling as he embraced her, still slightly taken aback by her warmth. She greeted him in a mix of French and English, her accent flowing effortlessly between the two.

“Enchantée, Jude. Welcome to our home! Oh, you are even more handsome than in the pictures!" Jude blushed slightly, caught off guard by her forwardness, but smiled politely. 

“Thank you. It’s so lovely to meet you. I’m really happy to be here.” He cooed. Your mother waved her hand dismissively, chuckling lightly.

“And we’re happy to have you. Please, call me Amélie." She took a step back, her gaze flitting between you and Jude, taking you both in like she was trying to memorize the moment. When she turned to hug you, she leaned in close.

“He’s much too pretty to let get away, ma chéri. And look at you—so happy. C’est parfait.” Her lips brushed your cheek as she whispered into your ear.  You pulled back, beaming, your heart swelling at her words. Jude squeezed your hand softly, a silent acknowledgment that he had caught the tender exchange between you and your mother.  As you all stood together on the driveway, your mother’s playful teasing and Jude’s slightly overwhelmed but still charmed demeanor filled the air with a warm, light energy. It was both comforting and exhilarating. As you stepped inside the château, Jude seemed to pause for a moment, taking in the atmosphere of the home. It wasn’t the cold, intimidating mansion he might have expected from an affluent French family. Instead, there was a warmth that radiated from the stone walls, softened by the light streaming through the windows. The hallway was lined with family photos—some in ornate frames, others more simple, but all filled with moments of happiness and love. It clicked for Jude in that instant: this wasn’t just a show of wealth or status, this was you—your heart, your memories, your life. Your mum clung to you as you walked through the door, kissing your cheek and holding you tightly as though you hadn’t seen each other in years.

“I missed you, ma chérie,” she said softly, her hand resting on your back as if she was reluctant to let you go. 

"I missed you too, maman." You smiled, returning her embrace Jude watched the exchange, his gaze softening. This wasn’t what he had imagined at all. There was so much genuine connection, so much love here, that any preconceived notions he had of cold, aristocratic families faded away. A part of him mildly confused because he’d heard from not only you but Whitney too that your family life was a bit distant. He was realizing though that that distance seemed to be more one of physicality then emotionality. 

"This place is beautiful," Jude remarked sincerely, his eyes wandering over the rustic but elegant decor—the perfect mix of comfort and class. Your mum smiled appreciatively but waved her hand dismissively again. 

"Merci, Jude. You’re very kind, but it's just a home. A little too big now that it's just me and your papa rattling around. But I’m so glad you like it." As she led you both further into the house, she started chatting away, her excitement spilling over. "I’ll admit Jude, I don’t follow football very closely, but from what I’ve heard around our house, you’ve been very impressive this year.” She then turned to you. “Your brother told me he’s going to be quite the problem for France at the Euros," she added with a teasing smile. Jude laughed, a sound that filled the room, warm and genuine. You couldn’t help but feel your heart swell as the two of them engaged so easily, their laughter melding together in a way that made your chest tighten, but in the best possible way. It was like you were witnessing the beginning of something special, a new chapter of your life that blended the people you loved most.

"I don’t know about that," Jude said modestly, still smiling. "But I’ll definitely do my best as long as it doesn’t ruffle any feathers here. I’d like to be welcomed back." Your mum laughed at his remark and continued to chatter about how Jude was always welcome as long as he looked after you, and how she’d been trying to catch up on football just to understand what all the fuss was about but had kept mum about your relationship to your dad. Jude listened attentively, the warmth of the room making him feel at home in a way he hadn’t expected. And as you stood there, watching him laugh and talk with your mum, you realized this was exactly what you had hoped for. The blending of two worlds you adored—Jude, with his down-to-earth charm, and your family, who had always tried their best to support you despite your unusual circumstances. It was all coming together, more beautifully than you could have imagined.

With too much time to spare before the dinner your mum had told you you’d have in a few hours, you found yourself wandering through the halls of your family’s chateau with Jude, showing him all the bits and bobs as you did back in the city. The house felt calm, almost serene—your mum was busy, and Louis and your dad were nowhere to be seen. Suddenly you had a mischievous glint in your eye as you led Jude further into the house toward your little art studio. It was a glass porch at the vineyard bathed in sunlight, each ray filtering through the vines that twisted along the edges of the windows. The air smelled of fresh earth, paint, and the faintest hint of grapes carried on the breeze. It was the perfect setting, peaceful and intimate, for what you were about to do: teach Jude how to paint.

“You ready for your first painting lesson?” you asked with a playful smile, turning to him. Jude hesitated, his confident demeanor faltering for just a moment. 

“Painting? Ah… I don’t know, angel…. I’m not sure how I’ll actually do at this,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, a nervous chuckle escaping him. You giggled, stepping closer to him and wrapping your arms around his waist. You kissed his cheek softly, reassuring him. 

“It’s just for fun, Jude. You don’t have to be good at it, and I promise I’ll go easy on you,” you teased, giving him a soft wink. Jude’s face softened, and he returned your smile, his hands resting comfortably on your hips. 

“Alright, but only if you promise to be gentle with your new student,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “I don’t know if I’m ready for the harsh critique of a professional.” He smiled. 

“You’ll be fine,” you laughed, pulling him along into the studio. “You’re my favorite student anyway.” Inside, the room was filled with light streaming through the large windows, the smell of paint a bit more prominent. You handed Jude a paintbrush and pointed to a canvas you had just set up for him, already grinning at the idea of watching him paint.  As he took the brush in his hand, his brow furrowed with concentration. 

"So, uh, what do I start with?" he asked, looking adorably lost. He stood beside you, an oversized canvas in front of him, looking both eager and slightly nervous. You smiled, amused by how his confidence on the pitch seemed to disappear when faced with a blank canvas. 

“It’s not a match, Jude. There’s no winning or losing here,” you reassured him softly, squeezing his arm as you set down a palette of colors in front of him.

He looked at the array of paints, then at you. Jude exhaled, his gaze flicking between your face and the canvas. “Alright,” he murmured, determined. “So what do I do… seriously?” He asked, feeling ready now despite his apprehension. 

“Anything you want,” you said, standing beside him. “Think of something that makes you happy.”

“Hmm…” Jude bit his lip, eyes narrowing at the blank canvas before him. “I’m drawing a blank, literally because I’m not going to attempt painting you.” He looked at you concerned. Like you might think he was dumb for not knowing but you felt the opposite. You just liked that he was willing to give it a go. You laughed, thinking he was sweet for indirectly saying you made him happy whilst you set up your own canvas. 

“Okay, well. First part is the easiest. We just paint the entire canvas with the gesso so you’re in good shape so far.” You smiled at him sympathetically but with reassurance in your eyes. 

“Gesso? Baby, I need… I need you to talk like I’ve never done this before because… I’ve never done this before.” He laughed at himself. 

“Oh right, right. Sorry. Okay, erm… Gesso primes or okay… like it prepares the canvas to paint. So genuinely just brush the canvas all over. Can’t do it wrong, baby.” You explained to Jude and so he did but meticulously copied the way you dragged the brush on your canvas just to be sure.  

“Now what, angel.” He looked at you proud of himself despite his still essentially blank canvas. You ran your hand over your face with a giggle. 

“I guess we could start with something simple, like what about a landscape? Just some basic shapes or whatever you want! Maybe you’re more of an abstract guy” You giggled. 

“And if I’m neither?” He smirked but you waved him off. After a moment, he dipped his brush into the paint, hesitating before finally dragging it across the canvas. He made his first stroke, a tentative sweep of blue across the canvas. You could feel his concentration, the intensity he usually reserved for football matches now channeled into the strokes of paint. His lines were shaky, like he was thinking too hard,  but he didn’t seem to mind too much. You watched him with a smile, appreciating the effort he was putting in despite his nerves. As the two of you painted side by side, the room filled with easy laughter. Jude would glance over at your work, pretending to be jealous of how effortlessly you created shapes and colors. “How do you make it look so easy?” he asked, a playful whine in his voice.

“Years of practice, baby. You’ll get there. Stick with me.” You smirked. Jude rolled his eyes dramatically but smiled, clearly enjoying the process more than he expected.  

“Trust me… that’s the plan, angel.” He smiled. You stood close, watching as he started to relax, his strokes becoming more confident. The sunlight filtered through the windows, casting a golden glow over both of you. You worked for a little while like that getting further into the paintings. You continued to paint side by side, lost in the moment, the world outside disappearing as the colors on the canvas began to take shape. “You know, I might just be the best student you’ve ever had.” He beamed looking at his own canvas. 

“Bold claim,” you teased, reaching over to pinch at his arm.  

“Hey!” He yelped, chastising you with feigned anger. “Don’t mess with my work please. Keep your hands to yourself.” He broke into a slight laugh at the tail end of his sentence, unable to hold onto his farce. 

“Alright, sorry! Sorry! Hands to myself. I got it.” You raised an eyebrow and both hands, trying not to laugh.

“Well… just well I work, angel. When I’m done… rules change.” He smirked.  Jude paused looking at his canvas again, then with a grin, he added a little stick figure to his landscape. “That’s me,” he said proudly. “Look at me, blending into nature.”

“A real masterpiece,” you declared, leaning in to kiss him on the cheek. “You’re really a natural.” You fell into a sweet laugh, unable to hold it in. 

“You know, it’s more fun than I thought,” he admitted. “Especially with you here.” Jude smiled, the warmth in his eyes making your heart swell. As the evening sun started to set outside, the two of you continued to paint, the time slipping away in each other’s company. You realized that this moment, teaching Jude to paint in your family’s chateau, was one you’d hold on to forever—a quiet, intimate memory of just the two of you. It was turning out not to be a bad first day as his girlfriend. You gently reached for another brush, dipping it in green, and made a sweeping motion on your own canvas. 

“See?” you said, nodding towards your own strokes. “It’s just meant to be fun.” You smiled implying his worries before were unnecessary. Jude turned to look at your work, his eyes softening as he watched you. There was something in the way you moved, how natural it was for you to create something beautiful. He admired you, of course, but this was different. He felt like he was seeing a side of you that was so deeply personal. 

“You make it look so easy,” he murmured, his voice low with admiration. You smiled, moving to step behind him. You wrapped your arms gently around his waist. 

“It’s not about easy. It’s about feeling.” You rested your chin on his shoulder, guiding his hand again as he made another stroke. “Like how hard are you really thinking when you strike a ball? You’re not. It’s instinctual. You know how to do it. It’s just a feeling. Comfort and confidence and maybe a bit of bravery” You told him as you reached over to your own canvas making a dramatic line on your painting. You watched Jude’s eyes go wide momentarily, nervous that you’d messed it all up but then he tilted his head seeing that somehow it looked better that way. 

“I like that. That’s exactly how I feel about footie. Comfort and confidence… bit of bravery.” He cooed. But then Jude paused, feeling the warmth of your body pressed against his back, the scent of you mingling with the fresh air and the sweet scent of the chateau. He turned his head slightly, his cheek brushing against yours. “You know, I’ve never seen you so in your element. It’s... beautiful,” he whispered. You blushed, caught off guard by the sincerity in his voice. 

“No one’s ever really cared about this stuff before… You know things I actually like or  my process,” you admitted softly, the vulnerability in your words catching you off guard. “Like I told you… everyone just always wants to see the end result.” Jude’s hand moved to rest over yours, still holding the brush. 

“I care,” he said quietly. “I want to see everything.” For a moment, you both stood there in the sunlit porch, surrounded by the quiet of the vineyard, the only sounds being the gentle strokes of paint and the soft rustling of the vines outside. There was something incredibly intimate about it, sharing this creative space with him. It was as if he was seeing you in a way no one else ever had. You glanced at Jude, who was so focused now, a small smile on his lips as he worked. It wasn’t perfect—far from it—but that wasn’t the point. It was raw, honest, and beautiful, just like the two of you. Jude stepped back momentarily, looking at his creation with a mix of pride and amusement to inspect his current progress. “I don’t know what it is, but I like it,” he said with a grin.

“It’s you,” you said softly. “It’s yours. And it’s beautiful.” You laughed, stepping next to him and taking in the colorful swirls and lines.  He turned to you, his eyes softening as he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“You’re beautiful,” he said quietly, his voice full of meaning. “Thank you for sharing this with me.” You leaned into his touch, feeling the warmth of the sun and the weight of his words. In that moment, surrounded by paint, sunlight, and love, everything felt perfect. You both returned to your paintings. You were focused, completely immersed in yours, but you could feel Jude's eyes on you, studying you. The brush in your hand moved effortlessly over the canvas, but your mind kept drifting back to the way he was watching you-his gaze soft, affectionate, and admiring.

"Do you need something?" you asked teasingly, without turning around, coughing slightly to hide your fluster. You could feel his stare like a gentle weight.

"Feels a bit backwards when the artist is more beautiful than the art." Jude chuckled, his voice low and warm. You grinned but raised an eyebrow in mock offense, finally turning to face him.

"So you don't like my work?” He rolled his eyes playfully, letting out a dramatic sigh. 

"I didn't say that." He quipped. You laughed, returning your focus to the canvas, but you could still feel him watching. A few more strokes of the brush, and suddenly you felt something cool and wet on your skin.

"Oh my god!!" You looked down to see a streak of light blue acrylic paint smeared across your exposed stomach. Your mouth dropped open in shock, quickly followed by a giggle as you saw Jude standing there, his brush in hand, grinning like a child who had just gotten away with something mischievous. "Jude!" you exclaimed, giving him a mock-glare. He simply shrugged, that playful gleam in his eyes, knowing full well what he'd done. Without missing a beat, you dipped your brush in paint and lunged toward him, but he was quicker. Dodging your attempts, the two of you fell into a childish chase around the studio, laughing like carefree kids. After a few near misses and lots of laughter, Jude managed to dodge you one last time, spinning around to wrap you up in his arms, trapping you. 

"Got ya.” He laughed, kissing your neck. “Maybe I need to teach you a few things. You’re slow, angel" he teased, pressing kisses all over your face and neck, his lips gentle yet full of playful affection.Your giggles echoed around the room as you squirmed in his grasp, unable to resist the joy of the moment. 

"Okay, okay, you win!" you conceded between laughs, still trying to catch your breath. He slowed his playful assault, his lips lingering near your ear. 

"Go ahead. I'll let you get me back." He whispered. Your heart skipped a beat at his words, feeling the shift in the air between you. You dipped your brush back into the white paint you were using, your hand trembling slightly, and with a slow, deliberate motion, you dragged the brush across his sharp jawline. The white paint was stark against his rich skin, the contrast making the moment feel charged, electric. Jude's eyes darkened, his playful grin fading into something more intense as he felt the brush glide over his face. He grabbed your hand, the one holding the brush, stilling your movement as his grip tightened ever so slightly. In one fluid motion, he pulled you into him, crashing his lips onto yours in a kiss that sent sparks through your entire body.

The kiss was deep, consuming. His hand came up to cup your face, the other still holding yours, as if anchoring you to him in that moment. You could feel his heartbeat thudding against your chest, and you responded in kind, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pressed closer, your body melting into his. The room, the paint, the canvas-it all faded into the background as you lost yourself in him. Every kiss was a new breath, every touch igniting a deeper connection. When you finally pulled away, gasping for air, you both stood there, staring at each other with that same fire in your eyes, the room charged with an unspoken understanding.

"You might've just made me love painting." He whispered again. Jude smirked, his lips brushing yours one last time.  You and Jude were giggling in the sun-drenched room, basking in the easy, playful intimacy of the moment when suddenly, the sound of a door slamming shut echoed through the house. Your heart jumped. You knew that sound well. Only one person entered the house with that kind of unannounced energy—your brother, Louis.

"Merde..." you muttered, already anticipating the whirlwind that was about to hit.  Louis was amazing but you were stuck with fear of introducing your boyfriend to your older brother. You moved to gently wipe the paint off Jude’s face before you led him into the massive farmhouse kitchen, where Louis was standing, tossing his keys onto the counter and immediately launching into rapid-fire French, his voice filled with warmth, jokes, and the unmistakable undertone of how much he had missed you. You exchanged back, just as fast, your words filled with sibling banter. Jude watched, trying to follow the conversation, his eyes flitting between you and Louis, clearly amused by the lively exchange.

“Ah! J'ai finalement décidé de rentrer à la maison!”  [Ah! Finally decided to come home] You know, you promised you would about five months ago, sœurette” [little sister] Louis teased, slamming the fridge door shut with one hand and grabbing a baguette with the other. You rolled your eyes, smiling.

 “Oui, oui, oui but I’m here now, no?” You shot back, playfully nudging Jude, who was watching the scene unfold with quiet amusement. Louis’ grin widened as he finally took in his surroundings and noticed Jude for the first time, his brows shooting up in exaggerated surprise. 

“Je n'y crois pas!” [i don't believe it] He cut himself off, switching to English for Jude’s sake, his tone now playful but dramatic. “Nah, no way. Jude Bellingham? What the fuck?” Louis laughed at the insanity of Jude’s presence. To say Louis followed football would be an understatement. “Ouah, you can’t possibly be interested in this.” Referring to you as ‘this.’ Louis laughed again throwing a torn piece of bread at you playfully. You shook your head, already bracing for the inevitable teasing. 

“Oh, tais-toi!” [shut up] you groaned, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. Louis walked over, extending his hand to Jude, his extroverted personality taking over instantly.

“Mon dieu man, this is wild. What are you doing here, mate? What a pleasure.” He grinned at you mischievously before adding, “Can’t believe you’re with Y/N. She was a nightmare growing up, you know.” Jude laughed, shaking his hand firmly. 

“Yeah, she hasn’t changed much,” he joked back, throwing you a playful look. “Nah, pleasure’s mine though. Just here as Y/N’s boyfriend.” Jude smiled. 

“Excuse me, I’m a delight. Not having that from either of you.” You gasped mockingly, crossing your arms. “But yeah, Louis, this is Jude, my boyfriend.” You smiled proudly. Louis raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself. 

“Oh, I’m sure you’re a delight now, but when we were kids? Let’s just say there’s a reason we needed two nannies,” he quipped, glancing at Jude with a conspiratorial grin.You rolled your eyes dramatically. You weren’t troublesome, Louis was being dramatic just to get a rise out of you. 

“Louis, s'il te plaît.” You whined. Louis laughed heartily before his expression turned more curious, glancing between the two of you. 

“But seriously… Does Dad know about this?” He tilted his head slightly, a teasing glint in his eyes. You sighed, rubbing the back of your neck, knowing this was coming. 

“Not yet. But let me guess—you’re going to have a field day telling him, aren’t you?” You gave him a pleading look. Begging your big brother not to do just that.  Louis grinned, not even attempting to hide his glee.

“Oh, you know me too well. I can’t wait to see his face.” Louis laughed. If Louis was into football, your dad was football. He lived for it. 

“Sounds like I’m in for a big introduction.” Jude chuckled but looked at you with a slightly raised brow. You should’ve prepared Jude but you figured his naiveness would be to his benefit and cute to watch. 

“Okay, okay… enough. Arrêt, Lou.” You sighed, playfully punching Louis in the arm. “Papa will love him. You’re just unnecessarily going to scare him and he’ll leave.” Jude smiled, his hand finding yours as he gave it a reassuring squeeze. 

“I’m not going anywhere, angel” he said softly, and even Louis, for a moment, seemed to catch the sincerity in Jude’s voice. 

You all moved to find yourselves in the glow of evening filtered through the tall windows of one of the lounges at the chateau, casting a warm light across the room’s rich wooden floors and plush furnishings. You sat comfortably beside Jude on a velvet couch, your fingers lazily intertwined with his, while your mother and Louis were seated across from you, each with a glass of aperitif in hand. The air was light with the scent of lavender and rosemary drifting in from the garden outside, mixing with the faint notes of the citrusy aperitifs your mother had prepared. Small plates of olives, almonds, and crisps sat on the low table between you all, each bite meant to tease the appetite before the family dinner to come. Your mother, elegantly dressed in a soft linen blouse, leaned back in her chair with a contented smile, clearly pleased to have her family gathered around, and perhaps a little more delighted that you had brought Jude to meet them. Louis, always the charmer, had been deep in conversation with Jude, discussing football and casually teasing him about adjusting to French wine. Jude, ever polite and easygoing, held his glass in one hand, the other gently resting on your knee still intertwined with yours. He was relaxed now, having settled into the rhythm of the conversation, his usual confidence shining through in the way he spoke with your family, even though you could tell he was trying to be on his best behavior. His laugh blended smoothly into the room, warm and genuine, as Louis made a playful remark.

“I’ll admit,” your mother said, raising her glass slightly toward Jude, “I wasn’t sure if ma petite fille was ever going to bring someone here. But I’m glad it’s you.” Her tone was soft but sincere, and she gave you a knowing smile. Jude glanced at you, squeezing your hand before smiling back at your mum.

“Thank you. I appreciate it. I’m lucky I got to be the one she brought. But I'm just happy to be here. It’s… beautiful,” he said, his eyes briefly sweeping over the room, then out toward the sprawling grounds beyond the French doors. You could feel his nerves slipping away with every sip of the chilled aperitif, the bubbles dancing on his tongue. He was fitting in seamlessly, but you knew it meant a lot to him to make a good impression.

“And I have to say,” Louis added, swirling his drink with an appreciative look, “you picked a good vintage, Jude.”  He smirked. Your mum had shown Jude one of the wine cellars off the kitchen and offered him the opportunity to pick a wine to start with. You stood next to him and coyly pointed at a bottle with a wink.  

“Honestly, I just follow her lead when it comes to wine.” Jude chuckled, his thumb brushing the back of your hand. 

“Oh mate, don’t do that.” Louis quipped. You’re mum swatted at Louis to be nice.  The room filled with soft laughter, the atmosphere light and welcoming. You leaned into Jude, resting your head on his shoulder for a moment, feeling the warmth of his skin through his shirt. It all felt so easy, so right, sitting there with him beside you, your family around you, the peacefulness of the chateau wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. As the conversation carried on, you caught your mum stealing glances at you both, her eyes gleaming with approval and happiness. You could tell she was happy to see you this way, with someone who made you feel at ease, someone who seemed to love you as deeply as you deserved. After Jude had charmed your family over pre-dinner drinks, he excused himself to use the bathroom, leaving you and your brother Louis alone in the room. The warm glow of candlelight bathed the room, the quiet chatter of your mum to the chefs drifting in from the kitchen. You took a sip of wine, savoring the calm before dinner.

"I need to talk to you about something." Louis, usually relaxed and easygoing, leaned in closer, his voice dropping slightly. 

"About what?" You blinked, caught off guard by his sudden shift in tone. 

"About Jude," he said, his gaze serious.

"What about him?" You straightened in your chair, frowning. The casual atmosphere you’d been enjoying moments before seemed to evaporate.  Louis rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable, before glancing toward the hallway where Jude had disappeared. 

"I just... Are you sure about him? About bringing him here?" A wave of confusion rolled over you. 

"I wouldn’t have brought him if I wasn’t sure," you replied, your voice firm but puzzled. Louis had seemed fine with Jude earlier. In fact, they’d hit it off well, talking about football, French wines, and even exchanging a few laughs over stupid boy stuff. So why the sudden shift?

"I mean... there are other people, you know? People who’d be better suited for you." Louis sighed, leaning back in his chair, his brows knitting together. Your frown deepened. 

"What are you talking about?" The knot in your stomach tightened as his words sank in. It was rare for Louis to make a comment about a boy you’d see. It was a rarity for you to have a boyfriend in general. And it was completely uncharted for you to bring one home so this took you by surprise considering Louis knew how important Jude must’ve been to you if you were brining him home. 

"Someone like Gabriel. He’s from around here, from a good family. He could still give you what you want. You two would make sense. You’d fit." Louis shifted again, clearly struggling with how to phrase what he wanted to say. “Like if you want to settle down or whatever, maybe someone like that makes more sense for you.” He looked at you almost pleadingly.

"Gabriel? Are you serious?" You couldn’t help the disbelief that laced your tone. You stared at him, incredulous. Gabriel? The aristocratic boy you’d barely known, who only appeared at family gatherings to talk about business and vineyards? The boy who had a stick up his ass and told you going out was ‘beneath him.’ You hadn’t even exchanged more than a few words with him after that.  

"He’s stable. You know what you're getting with someone like him. He’s not... like Jude." Louis looked at you with an unwavering seriousness that you hadn’t expected.

"What do you mean, ‘like Jude’? What’s wrong with Jude? Louis… he’s my boyfriend. What the fuck?" You couldn’t hold back the frustration bubbling inside you. 

"It’s not that there’s something wrong with him," Louis said, his tone measured. "But his life is... different. Fast. Unpredictable. Guys like him are surrounded by people who want a piece of them, and I just don’t want you to get caught up in something that could hurt you." You stared at Louis, taken aback. It wasn’t like him to voice such concerns so bluntly, especially not about someone you cared about. 

"I don’t understand. You seemed to like him before," you said slowly, trying to make sense of his sudden caution. "You were getting along with him earlier. What changed?"

"I do like him," he admitted. "He’s great, honestly. But his lifestyle… that’s the problem." Louis looked conflicted, running a hand through his hair as if searching for the right words.

"What’s the problem?" You tilted your head, confused. Louis leaned forward slightly, his expression softening but his words still heavy. It felt a bit hypocritical. You access to the luxuries of life were equally on par with what Jude had in reach. You and Louis probably had been a bit more reckless with them to be honest. 

"Look ma chéri. You’ve always been careful with who you let in. You’ve never brought someone home, and that’s why I’m worried. Because guys like Jude... they live in a world where everything is magnified. The fame, the pressure, the temptation. I’ve seen it with friends. One minute everything’s fine, the next... things fall apart." He explained. 

"So, what? You think I can’t handle it?" Your chest tightened, your heartbeat quickening. Louis had always been protective, but this felt different, more personal. Suddenly you felt much younger than you were. 

"It’s not about you," he said quickly. "I know you’re strong, and I know you’re smart. But that doesn’t mean you’re immune to getting hurt." You felt a swell of frustration, and maybe even that hurt, building inside you. 

"Louis, I’m not naïve. I know what Jude’s life is like. I’ve seen it. But that doesn’t mean he’s going to hurt me." You quipped. Louis looked at you, his eyes softening with concern. 

"I know you’re not naïve. But you’re also not invincible." The silence between you felt heavy, the warmth of the room suddenly suffocating. You hadn’t expected this kind of resistance from Louis, not when he’d been so welcoming earlier. 

"Jude’s not some reckless celebrity, Louis. He’s kind, he’s respectful, and he’s been nothing but good to me." And as you said those words, you realized they weren’t all that true. Jude’s life had caused issues. It’d hurt you before you were even his girlfriend. 

"I’m not saying he’s not," Louis said quietly. "I’m just saying... his world is different from yours. And I don’t want you to lose yourself in it." He explained further. Your shoulders dropped slightly as the weight of his words sank in. Louis had always been a rock for you, a protector, but this felt like he was questioning your judgment and frankly, you began to question yours as well.  And it hurt more than you wanted to admit.

"Louis, stop." you said, your voice quieter now, "Jude is someone I care about. He’s not just some fling. I wouldn’t be with him if I didn’t think he was worth it." You cooed. 

"I know," he said, his tone gentler. "I know you wouldn’t. The thing is, it’s not about him being worth it, Y/N. It’s about it being right for you." Louis’s face softened further, the lines of tension easing. The sound of the bathroom door opening broke the tension, and you both turned to see Jude walking back into the room, his expression relaxed and unaware of the conversation that had just taken place. He smiled at you, his presence instantly easing the tension in your chest. Louis straightened up, offering Jude a smile as he returned to his seat. But as Jude took your hand, you couldn’t shake the lingering weight of your brother’s words.

As the dinner began, the waitstaff meticulously placed each plate of French cuisine before you and your family. Jude shot you a questioning glance, clearly trying to navigate the formality of the moment, which stood in such contrast to the warm and easy vibe your family had at home. You smiled reassuringly, squeezing his hand under the table, grounding him. The conversation meandered lightly, your mum asking Jude small but thoughtful questions — about Madrid, his career, his family, and how he found France. He answered politely, though you could see the slight tension in his shoulders. It was the first dinner with your family, and while the atmosphere was relaxed, there was an undeniable pressure that Jude felt. This wasn’t just anyone’s family — this was your family. Just as a server refilled the wine glasses, the unmistakable sound of the door opening echoed through the room. Your heart leapt at the familiar noise of footsteps. 

"Papa!" you exclaimed, jumping up from your seat as your father finally appeared, fashionably late as usual. Everyone watched with soft smiles as you dashed to greet him, exchanging rapid French in your usual excited manner. He was a man of presence, even when absent for stretches at a time, and that made you cherish the moments with him even more. You hugged him tightly, his cologne bringing back a wave of nostalgia. After exchanging a few words, you pulled back, eyes twinkling. "Papa, I want you to meet someone very important." Jude had already stood up as you turned, and the tall figure of your boyfriend made his way to the center of the room. As he approached, your father’s eyes narrowed slightly, the natural reaction of a father seeing his daughter’s suitor up close for the first time. You noticed the brief scrutiny, the protective instinct rising to the surface. But then, something shifted.

"Well, well... what is the Golden Boy doing in my house?" he said, his deep French accent adding weight to the teasing tone. Your dad's lips twitched, and a glint of recognition sparked in his eyes as they widened ever so slightly. He glanced back at you, then to Jude. Your heart skipped a beat as the nickname, tied to Jude's win of the prestigious Golden Boy award, rolled off your father’s tongue. Jude had made headlines across Europe for the honor, and you hadn’t fully realized until this moment that your dad, though rarely detached from football, was fully aware of Jude's reputation.

"It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. Jude Bellingham." Ever poised, he extended his hand with a warm smile. Your father grasped his hand firmly, but the narrowed look had given way to a more playful one. He clapped his free hand on Jude’s shoulder, giving him an approving look. 

"Ah, the pleasure is mine. You’ve come here with Y/N?" he said, the warmth creeping into his voice. Jude gave him a sincere ‘yes.’ As much as you loved your dad… he was in and out of your life, busy always. He couldn’t remember if he knew if Jude was a potential friend of Louis but your introduction had him feeling otherwise but nevertheless he wasn’t thrilled about his little girl bringing a boy home but it being Jude was slightly redeeming. "But to have the Golden Boy in my house... well, what a treat." Jude laughed, his usual confidence coming back full force, though you could sense the bashfulness underneath. 

"I’m sure you’ve had bigger names through these doors than me." Jude cooed. You let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. Jude’s ease around people would always be attractive. Your dad waved off the modesty, turning to your mum. 

"He’s being humble. This one’s going to give France problems next year, you’ll see, poulette." He cooed as your dad moved to go give your mum a kiss. You stifled a laugh as you glanced at Jude, whose cheeks flushed just slightly. There was something about your father’s approval that seemed to lift the weight off his shoulders. The nerves Jude had been carrying all evening seemed to dissolve with that single statement.

"I can only hope I have a good tournament. But Y/N’s been kind enough to invite me here…" Jude continued, his eyes softening as he turned to you. "kind enough to let me be her boyfriend and invite me here." Jude explained with a sly smirk. Your breath caught at his admission. Your father raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking between the two of you before settling on you with an affectionate smile. 

"Ah, so that’s how it is." He gave Jude another inspecting glance now knowing he was officially a boyfriend. "You better treat her well, or I’ll be coming after you."

"I wouldn’t dream of doing anything less, sir." Jude chuckled nervously. There was something that felt terrifyingly real about the subtle threat. You took a deep breath but the playful exchange filled you with warmth. 

"I think you’re winning him over." You whispered, leaning into Jude.

"I hope so," Jude murmured, smiling down at you. Just then, Louis, who had been silently observing the whole scene from his seat, rolled his eyes and let out an exaggerated sigh. 

“Ouah, c'est tellement incroyable d'avoir le golden boy avec nous.” [it’s so amazing to have the golden boy with us.] he muttered in full french leaving Jude following nothing but the fact that it was about him. Louis shook his head with a grin that suggested he wasn’t surprised by the swift approval your dad had given Jude. "Mais Bien sûr, [but of course]  it’s the Golden Boy, Papa for your golden girl"  he teased, though there was no malice in his tone, it was weighted. Louis believed your dad favored you, and maybe it was true but also, now that he’d told you his apprehension about the relationship it felt more poignant. 

"Ah Louis,  la jalousie ne te va pas?" [Ah Louis, jealousy doesn't suit you] A smirk played on your dad’s lips as he took his seat at the head of the table. Your dad, catching on to Louis’ reaction, chuckled.

"Not jealous, just... surprised how fast this is going." Louis shook his head, giving you a pointed look. You gave him a look that said ‘we’ll talk later,’ but couldn’t help the way your anxiety was spiking at the whole situation. Jude seemed to take it all in stride, unfazed by Louis’ remark. He slipped his arm around your waist, drawing you closer as everyone returned to their seats. As the conversation continued, you noticed your mother giving you a nod of approval, clearly impressed with how Jude had handled himself. She had been watching the whole exchange closely, and the ease with which Jude fit into the family dynamic seemed to win her over too.

"You've done well, sweetheart," she whispered to you in French as the meal continued. You smiled, your heart swelling with the knowledge that your family had welcomed Jude, even Louis at least on the surface. Dinner was a whirlwind of stories, old inside jokes, and names of people Jude had never heard before. He spent most of the meal catching up, his eyes darting between family members as he tried to follow the decades-old family stories being shared. Conversations would slip in and out of French, and you'd have to quietly translate for him, but Jude handled it all with ease. You admired how quickly he picked up on the rhythm of your family, offering smiles, laughs, and even thoughtful questions at just the right moments. It hurt you though that he was blissfully unaware Louis wasn’t exactly thrilled about the pairing. And so, after dessert, the meal wound down, and you offered to help your mum in the kitchen. Jude, ever the gentleman, asked if he could help too, but before you could answer, your dad interjected, extending a hand toward Jude. 

"Why don't you join us outside instead, Jude? Louis and I were about to have a chat. You can tell us about your plans for the Euos so I can tell Didier." You shot Jude a reassuring glance, knowing this was your dad's way of bringing him into the fold. Jude hesitated briefly, but when your dad clapped him on the back and Louis stood up, he gave you a quick smile and followed them out. Jude’s brow did furrow momentarily trying to figure out if your dad actually knew Didier Deschamps or if it was a joke but nevertheless he went. You let him keep wondering. Your mum smiled at the scene, her eyes following Jude and your father. 

“He’s doing well,” she mused as you both headed into the kitchen. The staff was already cleaning up, so you and your mum leaned against the counter, glasses of wine in hand, taking the moment to catch up on gossip. She gushed about how happy you looked, how she thought Jude was handsome and polite, and how your dad seemed quite taken with him. “He fits,” she said simply, and you couldn’t help but smile. It made you feel better that she thought so, despite Louis’ hesitancy. The kitchen was cozy, filled with the warmth of your mother’s approval and the soft hum of conversation from the dining room staff. But you couldn’t shake the conversation from earlier in your mind, your heart heavy with the knowledge that Louis’ doubts had struck a chord in you. Outside, however, the atmosphere was a little different. Jude, your father, and Louis sat on the terrace, surrounded by the soft night air. Your dad had offered cigars, but Jude politely declined, opting to sit back and enjoy the conversation instead. Football, of course, dominated the talk. Your dad was in his element, relaying old stories of his favorite French teams and players. Louis joined in, discussing the upcoming Euros, analyzing team strategies and player potentials. Jude laughed easily, offering his own insights when asked, and it warmed your heart every time you heard his laughter drift back into the house. The scene outside seemed like a perfect integration of your two worlds — the man you loved fitting seamlessly into the family you cherished. But after a while, your father excused himself. He came back into the house to find you, his eyes softening when they landed on you. 

“I’ve missed you, ma chérie,” he said softly, pulling you into a hug. There was always something about your father’s presence that made you feel like a little girl again, like everything was safe and secure. Unfortunately tonight, thanks to your brother you felt more like one then ever. You chatted with your dad for a while, catching up on life and Jude, but you couldn’t help but wonder how things were going outside now that he had left Jude alone with Louis.

Back on the terrace, the dynamic between Jude and Louis had shifted. Louis, who had been quieter than usual for most of the conversation with your dad, now seemed to study Jude more intently. The easy laughter from earlier faded into a more measured silence.

"You’re a good player," Louis finally said, his tone neutral but not as warm as before. “Use you on FIFA all the time, bro.” Jude smiled, a bit unsure of where this was heading, but still polite. 

"Yeah? Thanks, mate.” Jude responded. Louis shifted in his chair, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees, his expression darker and more intense than Jude had seen all night. The laughter and easygoing conversation of earlier felt distant now, like it had been replaced with something far more serious.

"Listen," Louis started again, his voice low and deliberate. "I’m sure you’re a good guy. My parents, they love a charming guy, especially one that’s got Y/N actually smiling, and not the bullshit facade she’s usually got on and they’ll see that. They’ll invite you in, make you feel like family. But they don’t know you like I do. They don’t see the whole picture." He paused, his eyes locked on Jude’s, and the weight of his words hung in the air. Jude’s smile faltered, his heart sinking as the atmosphere shifted. For the past hour, he had felt like he was doing everything right—getting along with your dad, sharing stories, even earning a few laughs. But now, the warmth had drained from the evening, replaced by an unsettling tension. 

"I don’t understand," Jude said slowly, trying to keep his voice steady. "Why is that a bad thing? I want them to like me. I want them to accept me because I love her. Isn’t that the point?" Jude questioned. Louis’s gaze didn’t waver. He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. 

"You don’t get it, bro, do you? It’s not about them liking you. It’s not even about Y/N liking you. Hell, she says she’s in love with you but what it’s really about? It’s really about you being good for her. And I’m not sure you are." Jude blinked, stunned by Louis’ bluntness. 

 "I care about her—she’s everything to me. Why would I—" Jude began to waffle in a panic. 

"That’s not enough." Louis’s tone was sharper now, more forceful. "You don’t know what you’re getting into. You don’t know her like I do. She’s tough, but she’s so sensitive. And I don’t think you can give her the type of dedication she deserves, bro." Jude’s mouth went dry. He hadn’t expected this. Not from Louis, who had seemed friendly enough at first, even laughing and joking with him earlier. But now, it was as if a wall had gone up between them, and Jude wasn’t sure how to climb over it. “Think of your schedule alone. You’re in and out of Madrid 9 months out of the year and then on international duties in the summer. Do you really have the time to care about her life then?” Louis snapped again. Jude’s heart sank. He wanted to rebuttal. Unfortunately as much as he disagreed, there was truth in what your brother was saying. He physically couldn’t be with you as much as he’d want to be. Louis shifted his chair again, the metal scraping loudly against the patio stones. The sound echoed in the quiet night, making the tension between them even more palpable. He leaned forward, his expression hard. "I’m going to be straight with you, Jude. You’re going to hurt her. You might not mean to, but you will. And when that happens, I’ll have to hurt you." Jude’s stomach dropped, a sickening twist of dread tightening in his chest. This was the second threat of the night. He had heard threats before, hell, he’d heard one from your dad mere hours ago but this was different. Louis wasn’t angry or aggressive—he was calm, almost resigned. That made it worse. "I don’t want it to come to that," Louis continued, his voice quieter now but no less menacing. "I like you. I really do. I told you, I even use you on FIFA, so trust me, I don’t want to hurt you. But if it comes down to protecting her? I will." Jude was an older brother so he understood mildly but he didn’t feel the need to protect Jobe in the way Louis felt the need to with you. Jude was speechless. He had no idea what to say. The threat wasn’t violent, but it carried the weight of someone who had been protecting you for years and wasn’t about to stop now. He opened his mouth, trying to find the right words, but they wouldn’t come. For a moment, all he could do was sit there, stunned and unsure of how to respond. Jude sighed, leaning back in his chair, running his hand over his hair. It was clear to him now that Louis was one of the few people in your life who saw beyond the exterior, someone who knew you for who you really were—vulnerable, strong, but more delicate than anyone else could ever truly grasp. That realization only added to the weight on his shoulders. Jude wanted to get this right, and it wasn’t just about convincing Louis—it was about showing him that he knew what he had with you was rare. He looked at Louis, trying to figure out where to start. This was unfamiliar territory for Jude, opening up to someone who wasn’t you, especially about something this personal. Finally, he found his voice. 

"Listen," Jude began cautiously, his voice quieter than usual. "I’ve messed up before with Y/N. I don’t know if you know that yet but I know that I have. I thought being ‘Jude Bellingham’—the footballer, the guy everyone sees on TV—was more important than being her Jude." His eyes met Louis’s, trying to gauge his reaction. Louis raised an eyebrow, his arms still crossed over his chest, not looking entirely convinced.

"And how exactly is this supposed to make me feel better?" he shot back, not unkindly but still guarded. Jude took a deep breath, holding up a hand. 

"Just… just give me a minute here mate, okay?" He paused, collecting his thoughts, before continuing. "What I’m trying to say is—I can’t breathe without her, man. I mean, I don’t know if you’ve see my performances the last month but it’s because of her. I can’t think straight without her." He chuckled, though there was no real humor in it. "I’m a mess without her. I had to go get her in New York. It wasn’t a choice. It was a necessity. I really really fucking love her.” Jude sounded desperate.  Louis’s expression softened ever so slightly feeling almost a pity for Jude but his guard was still firmly in place. "I know I’m not… I’m not worthy of her time," Jude admitted, his voice dropping as he spoke. "I’m just grateful she let me matter at all. I get what she means to you, Louis. And I’m not trying to mess up how much you take care of her. I just— I want to be there maybe in those ways you can’t be" He hesitated for a moment, unsure if his next words would land right. “I… The thing is….” He tried to think of the only comparison he could, something that would make sense in his world. "She’s… she’s like my World Cup. The thing that, if I win her,  it’ll be like I’ve done something that actually matters. My life would feel complete." But before Jude could continue, Louis cut in, his face finally cracking into a small smirk.

"Alright, alright, no need to go that far," he said, holding up a hand. "She’s great, but she’s not that great." Louis smirked. Jude laughed softly, feeling a weight lift from the conversation, even if just a little. He glanced at Louis, his expression earnest. 

"She might be, though," Jude said, the sincerity in his tone evident. Louis leaned back in his chair, a long exhale escaping his lips. He still didn’t fully trust Jude—how could he?—but for the first time, he could see that Jude was genuinely trying. There was something raw in the way he spoke about you, something that felt real. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough to let his guard down, if only slightly. 

"Look," Louis finally said, after a long moment of silence. "I don’t expect you to be perfect. Hell, I don’t expect anyone to be perfect. But if you’re really serious about this, about her, then you need to prove it. Not to me, you don’t owe me shit. You’ll know I hate you if you don’t prove it but really, I mean to her. Because the second you mess up again, Jude… I won’t be easy to convince  because you haven’t really convinced me now." 

“You wouldn’t have even known if I hadn't told you. That’s how sure I am. I won’t, Louis. But I get it.” Jude sheepishly smiled with a nod, swallowing hard. “I’ll prove it.” He meant every word. He had to. Louis gave Jude a firm slap on the back before heading inside. Jude stood there for a second, gathering himself after the unexpectedly intense conversation. As Louis walked through the doorway, your dad looked up at him, his brow raised inquisitively, sensing the shift in the atmosphere.

"Qu’est-ce que tu lui as dit?"  [What did you say to him] Your dad asked, his tone light but laced with curiosity. Louis smirked, leaning against the doorframe. 

"Papa, someone had to scare the kid," he replied, shrugging as though it was the most natural thing in the world. "Clearly, you weren’t going to do it." Then, with a grin, he exaggerated his voice, mocking your dad’s earlier words with an even thicker French accent, 'Ah, tu vas être un problème à l'Euros' mimicking the way your dad had praised Jude earlier. [Ah, *you are going to be a problem at the Euros*,] You caught the words, and your heart skipped a beat. What had Louis said to Jude out there? You never brought anyone to your family’s chateau, and now you were worried—what if Jude had been put off? You tried to catch Louis’s eyes, but he just gave you a smug little smile, clearly enjoying having rattled both of you a bit. You shifted in your seat, glancing towards the door anxiously, your mind spinning. What if Jude was ready to leave? What if Louis had gone too far? You couldn’t bear the thought of losing the warm, comfortable connection you had brought with you from Paris to here. But then Jude walked back in, casually carrying the glasses that had been left outside. His face was calm, his expression soft. He looked... fine. Better than fine, actually. He flashed you a wink as he handed the glasses to your mum, who immediately melted at his thoughtfulness.

"Oh, Jude, mon cherie," your mum cooed, taking the glasses from him. She leaned in, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I love you already!" she declared to the room, her tone light and cheerful. She was clearly charmed, and you couldn’t help but smile, a little of the tension easing from your body. Jude grinned, a bit bashful, but still managing to take it all in stride. He seemed completely unfazed, as though whatever Louis had said outside hadn’t shaken him at all.  You pouted at him, half-jokingly, but also just a little bit out of concern, wondering if everything was truly alright. He caught your expression and leaned over, giving you another playful wink, as if to say, Don’t worry, I’ve got this. Louis, standing off to the side, crossed his arms with a smug smile, clearly impressed by Jude’s resolve. Despite his earlier attempt to rattle him, Jude had handled the situation well. He hadn’t been scared off—he’d stuck it out. And though Louis would never admit it outright, that had earned Jude a bit of respect. For now, anyway. With the evening settling back into its rhythm, you exhaled softly, feeling a new wave of warmth toward Jude. He wasn’t just enduring the challenges of your world—he was embracing them. As the house quieted down, the echoes of laughter and conversation fading into the stone walls, you and Jude stayed behind in the warm, dimly lit kitchen. The remnants of dinner were cleared away, leaving only the soft glow of the old chandelier and the subtle clinking of glasses as Jude filled a cup of water. You watched him, feeling an overwhelming sense of contentment, the coziness of the chateau wrapping around you both.

“Thank you for coming,” you whispered. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you walked up behind him, slipping your arms around his waist and resting your cheek against his back.

“You don’t have to thank me. I wanted to be here, angel.” Jude turned his head slightly, glancing back at you with a soft smile.

“I mean, my family is a lot. I’m sorry if it was too much. Louis… can be… He just cares. Sorry.” You apologized. You felt a twinge of embarrassment bubbling up. Jude shook his head, setting down the glass and turning around in your arms to face you. His hands found their way to your hips, pulling you in a little closer. 

“You’re my girlfriend. It could never be too much,” he said, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Don’t worry about Louis. Besides, we still have to tell Jobe. That’s gonna be fun.” You laughed at the mention of his younger brother, remembering the easy rapport the two of you had when you first met. But now, knowing you were officially Jude’s girlfriend, it felt different. 

“He’s gonna make it a whole thing, isn’t he?” you said with a nervous chuckle. Jude’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. 

“Oh, definitely. He’ll probably take credit for the whole thing too. Somehow spin it like he had been involved.” You laughed along with him, feeling the tension melt away. Jude was always good at making you feel at ease, even when your nerves got the better of you. He wrapped his arms fully around you, holding you close and lowering his voice. “But speaking of… do I get to sleep with my girlfriend tonight? Or are your parents not about that?” You felt your face heat up at his teasing words, and you playfully squeezed his arm. 

“You’re not sleeping anywhere else,” you replied with a smirk. “They’ll just have to deal with it.” Jude’s grin widened, and as you led him out of the kitchen and through the quiet hallways of the chateau, you felt the weight of the evening slowly lifting. The old floorboards creaked under your feet, and the dim sconces along the walls cast soft shadows that danced across the antique furniture. You brought Jude to a secluded wing of the house, the air cooler and more still. When you opened the door to your room, Jude stepped inside, taking in the spacious yet cozy setting, the heavy drapes, and the ornate furniture that made the place feel like it had been frozen in time yet shimmer in luxury. He raised an eyebrow, flashing you a mischievous grin. 

“So... how thin are the walls in this place?” He cooed. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, biting back a smile. 

“You’ll have to be on your best behavior, Judey,” you teased. Jude chuckled, pulling you into his arms again.

 “Can’t make any promises.” He whispered as his lips brushed against your ear.  You laughed, swatting him playfully once more, but the warmth of his embrace and the soft glow of the room made everything feel perfectly right.

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

Next part - Chapter 16 - Glass Angel xx

[illiterateaffairs]

DISTRACTIONS IV | CATCHING FEELINGS

pairing: jamie tartt x f!reader (ted lasso)

rating: T

word count: 2,468

summary: you and jamie are a couple...a couple of besties with benefits! that’s definitely all this is. 

A/N: very excited about this one - even though its a little shorter! also wanted to let you all know since i have chapters planned out almost through the end of the season, i have this idea of revisiting chapters and writing “missing scenes” to fill some gaps, like within this one which you’ll see. let me know if you’d be into that?

distractions masterlist | previous chapter

After Jamie showed up at your door the evening following their loss to West Ham, you did not stop sleeping together. Two nights turned into three, and then into four. Once you passed five, you decided to upgrade your relationship to friends with benefits status. Jamie was honestly happy that meant you considered him a friend. 

The two of you usually hooked up after Richmond lost a game, which had unfortunately been happening a lot as of late. Sometimes Jamie would find you after a training session with Roy to relieve some tension. Occasionally you went to Jamie when you were feeling anxious about work or something reminded you of Mason. And while the team mourned the loss of Zava after he announced his retirement, Jamie was the happiest you’d ever seen him. (You think you might have had the best sex of your life that night.)

At some point, you’d added other locations to your repertoire, other than your bedroom and sometimes your shower. On rare occasions you’d meet up in your office for a quickie, or even Jamie’s car in the parking lot after everyone had left when you couldn’t wait to get home. Only once had you tried to spend the night at Jamie’s, but at the crack of dawn, Roy was banging on his door for another practice. That was the last time you did that. 

You had to admit, you got a thrill out of sneaking around. You’d gotten less skittish at the office, sharing secret looks with Jamie during practices. Rebecca was still the only one who knew. A week into your new arrangement, she’d inquired about your situation, which you explained. She still seemed weary, but less so because of Jamie and more so because she didn’t think a casual relationship was the best idea. If you’d asked yourself a year ago, you would have agreed. But now, you kind of enjoyed the lack of pressure surrounding your dynamic. Jamie was obviously very skilled when it came to sex, but he was also fun to be around. Your pillow talk conversations were often the highlights of your day. You’d talk about your days and vent when you’d need to. Sometimes you’d get little nuggets about Jamie’s life and childhood, and you’d let him in on some details about your life as well. The more you got to know him, the more you liked him.

As a friend of course. Rebecca also warned you that if feelings got involved in your situation, things could get messy. But you weren’t worried about it. Sure, you and Jamie playfully flirt from time to time, but you’d do that around the office in plain sight too. It was just Jamie’s thing. This dynamic you had was just innocent, casual fun. That’s what you two agreed to and that's what you wanted. 

Jamie was also enjoying your arrangement. Unbeknownst to you, from the second he saw you, he’d found you appealing. Though, when he’d found out you were working for the team, he thought any chance of hooking up with you was off the table. Then he assumed you were seeing Sam, and he would absolutely never interfere with one of his best mate’s relationship. But when he’d found out you were available, he’d crumbled under the pressure. He got to know you a little bit, which made it harder to initiate anything. That was until you initiated it that night in his car and he couldn’t have been more thrilled. He honestly hadn’t expected it to go further than that night, but he couldn’t resist you. You were addictive, and extremely good at distracting him. Not just when you were fucking - which was mind-blowing - but also during the in-between moments when you’d whisper to each other under the sheets.Your mere presence was so soothing, he wished he could be enraptured in it all the time. 

That’s honestly the worst part of your deal; that it was secret and he couldn’t just wrap you up and listen to you breathe whenever he felt anxious. 

The fact that you have such a hold on him only adds to his anxiousness, though. He knows that your relationship is strictly sexual, but platonic, and he’s not worried about wanting more than that. He knew he wasn’t exactly boyfriend material, and wasn’t sure if relationships were something he wanted, at least at this point in his life. But he couldn’t help being attached to you. No one’s ever been so kind to him; so attentive and gentle. So, while your arrangement may be fleeting, he wanted to soak up the affection while he could. 

That’s why he feels so off when he doesn't see you around the club today. 

The team had an early training time, so when he didn’t see you before, he figured you probably just hadn’t arrived yet. But then he didn’t see you around lunch time either. He nonchalantly asked Sam if he’d heard from you, as he spotted him while he lifted weights, but his friend hadn’t heard from you either. That didn’t sit right with him.

He tried texting you after that, not once but twice, but you didn’t answer. That was also out of character. He knew it bothered you when there were red bubbles over your apps, but you hadn’t even read the text. 

As a last ditch effort, he even found himself asking Colin or Isaac if they knew anything but of course they didn’t. 

Jamie was nervously staring at your text chain as he walked out of the locker room at the end of the day. Still nothing. Not looking at where he was going, he ends up running straight into Rebecca. He apologizes distractedly before taking another step towards the door, when she calls out to him. 

“She’s at home.” Jamie looks at her with a quirked eyebrow, so she clarifies by saying your name. “She called in sick so I gave her the day off.”

Though he’s grateful for the information, he fidgets nervously, “How did you…”

“She told me about you two, or rather I figured it out. But I haven’t said a word to anyone else,” she explains reassuringly, “Plus you’ve been wandering around like a lost puppy all day. Wasn’t hard to guess why.” 

Jamie flushes, but smiles tightly in thanks before wishing his boss a goodnight. On his way to run some spur of the moment errands, he wonders what kind of things you’ve told Rebecca. 

As the sun sets for the night, you’re finally forcing yourself out of bed. 

You weren’t sick sick. You were on your period, and this morning you’d woken up with a migraine and some of the worst cramps you’ve had in a while. It wasn’t uncommon for you to feel this bad every couple of months, but when it got this severe, there was no way you could function as a human being. So you made yourself persevere through the pain for a few moments to call Rebecca and explain the situation at hand. She was quick to suggest you stay home, and while you weren’t surprised, you still adored her for understanding. Best boss ever. 

When your pain is bad, you can only stomach so much food, so you just pick on things like crackers to hold you over. Now that it was nearing dinner time, and your headache had finally subsided, you were ravenous. You quickly search for nearby pizza places and select the first thing that comes up on Google and place a delivery order. 

While you wait, you curl up with a blanket on your couch and turn on one of your favorite Grey’s Anatomy episodes. You’re only ten minutes in when there’s a knock on your door. You begrudgingly stand up, impressed that your pizza had come so fast. When you pull the door open, you instead find Jamie standing there with a bag of groceries. 

“You’re not pizza.”

Jamie narrows his eyes at you, “And you don’t look sick.” 

Your shoulders sag, “Rebecca told you?” 

Jamie nods, “Yeah, I was worried. Wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

Your heart warms. You pull your door open wider, and he doesn’t hesitate to enter. 

“I’m sorry I worried you,” you shove your hands in your sweatshirt pocket awkwardly, “I’m actually not technically sick, just on my period, which I’m sure is exactly what you want to hear.”

Jamie surprises you by not visibly reacting to your admission.

“Damn, I wish I’d known that, otherwise I would have picked up different things.” he draws your attention back to the paper grocery bag in his hands as he sets it on your coffee table. He starts pulling out items as he lists them off, “I got you some soup, some tissues, a shit-ton of different medicines because I didn’t know what kind of sick you were. Some gummy bears, but that’s just cause I know you like those.” 

You try not to be overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness, “Aw, Jamie, you didn’t have to do that.”

He shrugs, not making direct eye contact, “Sorry most of it's not very helpful. Although, this might still work?” He pulls one last thing from the brown brag: a carton of Neapolitan ice cream. 

You gasp, immediately taking the item into your hands. “You are a saint. I will be saving this for later.” 

Jamie smiles as he follows you to the kitchen where you transfer the ice cream to the freezer. It's at this moment he also realizes you’re wearing one of his Richmond sweatshirts he must’ve left behind one night. He keeps this realization to himself.

“D’you say you ordered pizza?”

“Yeah. You’re welcome to stay if you want, there’ll be plenty.  

“Where from?”

“Uhh,” you scratch your head trying to recall the name of the place, “Pizzeria Pellegrini, I think?”

Jamie groans, “That place is rubbish, you should have ordered from Lucia’s.”

For some reason, a small smile makes its way on your face, “I’m sorry I didn’t consult you first, Mr. Pizza Expert.”

“Well, now you know,” Jamie pulls out his phone and begins tapping up a storm.

“Whatcha doing?”

“Ordering us a pizza from Lucia’s. You like pepperoni, right?”

“Jamie,” you gasp exaggeratedly, “I already ordered one. It will be here any minute.”

“Well, now you’ll have two, so save room. I’ll get express delivery. I need you to try both so you know which is superior.” he snickers and you roll your eyes, “Anything else I should get?”

You shake your head amusedly, but still ask, “Can you get me a side of ranch, please?” 

Jamie scoffs, “Aren’t you getting some with your first order?”

Okay, he knows you too well. 

“Yeah, but every restaurant has a specific ranch. I can’t have Lucia pizza with Pellegrini ranch, that’s insane.” 

He gives you a crazy look, “No, I think you’re insane.” 

“Look, I’m right and you’re just going to have to deal with it.” 

Jamie shakes his head, but bites back a laugh. He orders you a pepperoni pizza with extra ranch. 

As you lead him back to the couch, you catch him up on your evening plans of binging Grey’s.

“But we don’t have to watch if you don’t want to. We can watch something else, or…”

Jamie sits beside you on the couch and shrugs, “You’re the one feeling like shit, we can do whatever you want.” 

“Alright, then buckle up, Tartt,” you chuckle, pressing play on the remote.

As the episode continues, Jamie asks questions about what is happening and who the characters are. Normally, you’d be annoyed with the constant talking over the show, but you like that he seems genuinely interested. So you fill him in on what has happened in the episode so far, and some backstory for the characters. 

“Wait so there’s a bomb in that person’s body?” “Yup.” And then he’s hooked.

Both of your pizzas arrive at different points during the two-part episode, and you give in and admit his pizza place is better. You even let him share your ranch dressing. However, your eyes widen in horror when he goes to dip a piece of Lucia’s pizza into Pellegrini’s ranch.

“What the hell are you doing?” you exclaim, sitting up slightly. 

“I’m going to prove your theory wrong,” Jamie scoffs, shoving the slice into his mouth. 

You watch in anticipation and smirk in satisfaction when he frowns. 

“Okay, you’re right. This is wrong.” he immediately switches out the cups of ranch.

You bob your head up and down, “Yeah, it's sacrilegious.”

“Each ranch just compliments its own pizza so well!”

You press your hand to your chest and smile, “You get me.” 

After dinner, the two of you treat yourself to bowls of ice cream and settle back into the couch. Jamie lets you lay across it, while your feet rest in his lap. With Grey’s Anatomy becoming background noise, you two chat quietly. Jamie tells you about his day and how stressed out the team has been with all the losses.

“I’m sorry I can’t help you destress tonight,” you joke, referring to your usual nighttime activities that are being cockblocked by your favorite week of the month. 

Jamie chuckles, absentmindedly rubbing your ankle. “S’alright. Just being here’s made me feel better.” 

You look at Jamie thoughtfully as he continues staring at your television screen. Before you’re really aware of what you’re doing, you sit up and plant a light kiss on his cheek.

He turns to you a little caught off guard, but not bothered. “What was that for?”

“Just because.” 

You go back in for a kiss on his lips this time, and he immediately reciprocates. When you pull back, you give him a shy smile before laying back down on the couch, wrapping your blanket around you, and turning back to your comfort show. Out of your peripherals you can see a small smirk settle on Jamie’s face as he refocuses on Grey’s Anatomy as well. 

You’re proud that you pulled that off nonchalantly because inside you were feeling anything but. An uncomfortable feeling settles in your stomach as you come to the realization that that wasn’t just a casual kiss. You kissed Jamie because you wanted to, not just as a prelude to sex. All night he’d been attentive to your needs, genuinely interested in hearing what you had to say even when it was nonsensical ramblings about a show you liked, and just an overall sweetheart. The more you think about it, he was always like this when you two were together, even when he was teasing you. It didn’t help that he also looked especially good tonight. 

Holy shit, were you…falling for him? When you explicitly said you weren’t going to?  

Well this certainly won’t end well. 

A/N: this apartment scene and the car scene from part two are the first things i thought of and inspired this whole story :’) can’t wait to know what you guys think!

Taglist: @atabigail @boundtomyfate @sammysgirl1997 @lil-tracys @shephard17895 @alaspice @itsbarbraann @redpool @drmeghanjones @straightforwardly @alex-sulli @aiyaiy @artemismaximoff @roadtoself-love @theloud-yet-quietone @forcesofgrief @kirisimpster​ @geek-and-proud​ @grippleback-galaxy​ @lalla-04p​ @gabbycoady13​ @royalestrellas​ @qardasngan​ @creationcitystreet-em​ @percysaidnever​ @emily-b​ @mrfitzsimmons​ @k-n-e​ @agentstarkid @legobatmans9thab @mrsprongs25​ @escapismqueen​ @scaramou @beardsplitter @gcidrvsh @ringpopdust @marveltg365 it wouldn’t let me tag the last few of you, let me know if its something with your settings, otherwise i can keep trying in future updates! <3

[tonyspank]

“CURIOUS WHO’S BEHIND THE MASK, TARA?”

Summary: Tara finds out who's behind her school's mascot, and finds herself getting closer to them. But Ghostface has other plans for the two.

Warnings: Ghostface, angst, character death.

A/N: no pt.2 sorry & old draft that i shall post because i love u guys

"Woooo!" Mindy yells, clapping and cheering for her brother. It was a rare occasion to see everyone in the Core Four present at a football game.

But this was the championship game, and Chad was the star wide receiver. Sam smiles along with Tara, watching Chad celebrate at the end of the game, securing Blackmore the state title.

The team mascot, a fierce brown cougar, joins in the celebration by doing flips and cartwheels on the sidelines. Tara leans into Mindy's ear. "You ever wonder who's under the mask?"

"Curious who's behind the mask, Tara?" Mindy wiggles her eyebrows before chucking, adding, "Chad knows! Just ask him."

Quinn joins in, "They're hot too! Chad showed me a photo of them." Mindy thins out her lips, nodding in agreement.

Tara raises an eyebrow maybe she will.

-

Chad laughs, now at Tara, Sam, and Quinn's apartment, along with Mindy, Ethan, and Anika. "Why are you so curious about our mascot?" Mindy sets down her drink, cutting Tara off.

"Quinn and I were kind of hyping them up." Tara nods, confirming Mindy's words. "The seasons over with! Why are you still keeping it a secret?" Chad shrugs, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "It's just more fun this way. Keeps everyone guessing."

Anika tilts her head, intrigued. "But don't you think it's time to reveal the mascot? I mean, the suspense is killing me!" Chad chuckles and takes a sip of his drink. "I don't know, guys..."

Ethan watches Tara and Anika throw their heads back, sighing and letting out a small laugh. "Maybe you should just tell them before jump them and rip off the mascot costume." He jokes, earning a playful punch from Anika.

Chad looks around the group before pulling out his phone. "I guess you're right," Chad says, scrolling through his phone. He stares at his screen a bit before a voice is heard from his phone. "Hello?"

Chad's face lights up. "Everyone wants to see you without the mask. They've been asking about you all day." The group looks at Chad with anticipation, eager to hear who Chad has on the phone.

"Oh...uh, sure." You let out a laugh, placing your phone on your desk, ready to reveal your identity to the curious group. Chad flips the phone off his face, revealing the screen to everyone. Tara and Anika's jaws drop, their eyes widening in surprise.

"Oh my god." Anika mumbles, covering her mouth in disbelief. Tara, on the other hand, lets out a small laugh. "I didn't expect that."

You wave at everyone. "I hope I lived up to your expectations!" you say with a smile. Chad, still grinning, introduces you to the group. "Everyone, this is Y/N. Our school's mascot."

-

"Mind refilling my cup?" you ask, pointing to your empty cup. Tara chuckles. "Can't you just use the force and make it fill itself?" She teases, mocking your Anakin Skywalker costume. You playfully roll your eyes, knowing that Tara always has a quick comeback.

"You will refill my cup." You say, waving two fingers in a playful Jedi mind trick gesture. Tara laughs and obliges, taking your cup before making her way to the keg. A brown-haired boy places his own cup upside down on the pump.

"You're kidding me, right?" Tara asks the boy, raising an eyebrow. He grins, "Nah, last one's kicked. We got hard stuff in the kitchen though." The boy extends his hand, "Frankie."

Tara smiles, shaking his hand. "Tara. Lead the way." Frankie leads Tara towards the kitchen, and you watch with a slight frown. "Looks like you have a sith to deal with." Mindy says, nodding towards Frankie and Tara.

You light up your prop lightsaber, and Anika adds, "May the force be with you." You chuckle and reply, "Thanks, I might need it."

You walk to Tara and Frankie, ignoring the boy as you smile at Tara. "Is that mine?" You ask, pointing at the red solo cup. Tara nods. "It's tequila, so proceed with caution."

You raise an eyebrow and take a cautious sip. The strong taste burns your throat, but you manage to hide your discomfort. As you hand the cup back to Tara, you notice Frankie smirking at your reaction. "Not a fan of tequila?" Frankie asks teasingly. You playfully roll your eyes and reply, "Let's just say we have a complicated relationship."

Frankie chuckles and turns to Tara. "Hey, I have a bottle of Fireball in my room." You narrow your eyes at Frankie's suggestion, could he be any more obvious?

Tara shakes her head. "I'm good. Thank you, though." You smile, silently grateful for Tara's refusal. It had only been a couple of months, but you found yourself grown to Tara completely.

"Do you wanna go somewhere more silent?" she asks you, turning her back to Frankie. You nod eagerly, relieved to escape Frankie's presence.

-

"Ghostface chasing us...Sam being Billy Loomis's daughter...is just mind-blowing." You say to Tara, leaning your back against the snack bar. Tara looks down at her shoes, a pensive expression crossing her face. "Yeah, it's definitely a lot to process," she replies softly.

You lift yourself off the snack bar and take a deep breath. "But regardless. I'm happy that I'm with you. You've truly made a mark on my life, Tara. I don't think I've felt so strongly for someone, you know? I'm willing to do some crazy shit for you, if it means keeping you in my life."

Tara's eyes meet yours, her eyes darting around your face. She takes a moment to collect her thoughts before speaking. "I feel the same way... It's scary sometimes, but in the best possible way. I can't imagine my life without you either."

You smile, leaning down and capturing Tara's lips with yours in a passionate kiss. You slightly pull away, bringing your forehead to rest against hers. "I never thought I would find someone who makes me feel this way. It's like you've awakened a part of me that I didn't even know existed."

Just as Tara leans in again, she feels a sharp pain in her back.

"Tara!" You shout, holding on to her before she falls to the ground. Ghostface turns towards you, attempting to slash at you with his knife. Adrenaline surges through your veins as you quickly dodge his attacks and push him into a movie poster.

You manage to knock Ghostface off balance, causing him to stumble and drop his knife. Taking advantage of the moment, you grab Tara's hand and pull her towards the exit, determined to get both of you to safety.

Just on time, Sam and Chad open the door, and all of you gasp in surprise. "C'mon!" Sam shouts urgently, gesturing for you and Tara to hurry. Without hesitation, you sprint towards the open door, looking for an exit. But it's not long before you're back where you started—the four of you fighting off Ghostface.

You all manage to knock Ghostface to the ground, and you grab a gumball machine, urging everyone to keep moving. You lift the machine above your head, ready to smash it onto Ghostface, but before you can make your move, another masked killer stabs you in the side.

You gasp in pain as the sharp blade pierces your flesh, causing you to drop the gumball machine. "No!" Tara shouts, rushing to your side, but gets held back by Chad and Sam. You fall to the ground, two Ghostface's tower over you. The pain intensifies as you struggle to catch your breath, realizing that this might be the end of the line for you.

"Y/N!!" She screams again, watching them stab you repeatedly with a sickening frenzy. Your vision blurs and darkness starts to creep in, but you summon every ounce of strength, mumbling. "Run! Go!"

The Ghostface's turn to the three, wiping off their knives in unison.

-

"Great job. All of you." Detective Bailey says to the three Ghostface's. Sam and Tara's eyes widen when realization hits them. "You?"

"Yeah, of course, me." He chuckles before continuing. "Frankly, I expected more from the two of you after what you did to us."

"Us?" The Ghostface on Bailey's left removes his mask, revealing Ethan. "Mindy was right, it was easy to juke the roommate lottery. All I had to do was room with a conceited, condescending alpha, literally named Chad! Fuck, it felt good to kill him!"

Sam and Tara exchange shocked glances, their minds racing to process the revelation. Ethan's words hang in the air, leaving them speechless as they struggle to comprehend the extent of his twisted motives.

Tara's eyes then fill with rage, thinking back on you and Chad, and they mercilessly killed you both. Ethan grins and holds up his mask. "This one was your grandmother's, Sam. Nancy Loomis? It really runs in your fucking family, doesn't it? Speaking of family, "

Bailey buts in, "Wait for it!"

"My names not Ethan Landry, is it Dad?" Bailey laughs, smiling proudly at his son. "Dad?" Tara questions, even more confused.

"Wait, then who else does that leave?" Sam asks, her mind racing to piece together the puzzle. "I don't know?...Mindy?" The Ghostface on Bailey's right takes off their mask, revealing a familiar face.

"Hey, roomies." Quinn says, smiling. "You didn't see that one coming, did you?"

Tara's eyes widen in shock. "Yeah, cause you died!" Quinn chuckles. "Kind of didn't, though. It was a good way to get off the suspect list. Stab Mindy on the train. That sort of thing."

"I just had to make sure I was the first one on the scene so I could switch her out with a fresh body. You'd be surprised at what a grieving father can get away with." Quinn smiles, "I got Stu Machers mask. He was my favorite."

Everyone turns to the last Ghostface, who had been standing silently beside Ethan. The last Ghostface slowly removes their mask, revealing a face that no one expected. It was you, alive and unharmed.

"Still curious who's behind the mask, Tara?" You ask with a smile.

Tara's eyes widen in disbelief as she struggles to grasp what she is seeing. "But... how? How are you standing here right now?" she stammers, her voice filled with confusion and shock.

"I watched you get stabbed!"

The room falls into a heavy silence as everyone waits for an explanation.

"And Sidney supposedly saw Billy get stabbed," you continue, addressing the lingering doubt in the room. "He used pig blood, but that's out of date. Modern special effects have come a long way since then. It's all about creating the perfect illusion, and that's what I did." You explain, revealing the truth behind the seemingly impossible situation.

"I got Amber's mask." You say, looking at it before making eye contact with Tara. "See, I miss my sister dearly. You know Tara, she would call me and tell me how much she cared about her best friend, and not even two months later, you shoot her dead."

"She was trying to kill me!" Tara shouts. You clench your jaw, your own voice raising. "She loved you!"

Tara's face contorts with anger as she retorts, "She may have loved me, but she was also willing to take my life. I had no choice but to defend myself."

"...How are you, Amber's sister? Why weren't you in Woodsboro?" Sam asks.

You take a step closer to the sisters. "Me and Amber weren't biological siblings, but we were raised together since we were young. As for why I wasn't in Woodsboro, I stayed with my aunt... I never was a Cali person, you know?"

Tara glares at you, her anger still evident in her eyes. "Well, it's not like you would understand. You weren't there when it happened. You didn't see what she did."

"I may not have, but I know how she felt, and I saw what you did. I came here to get revenge for my sister and I will finish the movie she started with Richie, believe me."

[dysfunctionalupsidedown]

Mike Wheeler: Trauma, Insecurity, and "STurn" (Analysis)

In "From the Hair Chair: Finn Wolfhard | Stranger Things", which is available on the official Stranger Things YouTube channel, Finn Wolfhard addresses the question, "What's going on with Mike Wheeler in Season 4?"

Mike Wheeler’s behavior in S4 has confused many, especially general audiences. However, if you look at the bigger picture, his progression (or regression) into the Mike Wheeler we know from S4 does make sense. To get a clear idea of what’s going on with him, we must look at the four seasons sequentially and with a more subtextual eye. We have a few physical puzzle pieces, and for now, we need to fill in the rest with our imagination based on evidence. A Mike point of view isn’t particularly needed to fully understand this, although it would be helpful for the GA and is something I want from S5.

In relation to this particular interview, I’ll examine Stranger Things (2016) for the past and present and “STurn” for the possible future. “STurn” actually does tell us a bit about how Mike’s self-identity arc will potentially continue in S5 and wrap up.

Also, I understand that “STurn” isn’t factual and is not even confirmed to be related to ST5. Though I don’t believe this entire analysis is instantly negated by my use of the playlist, as its only purpose here is to assume a hypothetical future. Aside from the Finn interview, everything else comes straight from the show and holds a reasonable explanation for Mike’s behavior up until the end of S4.

Remember, this post is for fun and speculation, and "STurn" is the best we have right now. Just keep in mind that I’m going into this analysis assuming it’s related to Mike Wheeler in S5. I could be entirely incorrect. Similarly, this interview isn’t wholly factual either, as it’s not what’s in the show, but it relates enough to what we’ve been shown of Mike for me to comment on.

This might be a lengthier post. Be warned.

If you’re still here and interested, I’ll get right into it.

Trauma

Finn first addresses how each of the characters are dealing with their past trauma, and that is a perfect way to describe Mike’s behavior in S4. I think a lot of people, especially the general audience, forget that, yes, while these are all characters, trauma does have the ability to affect them and change their behavior. There was an entire “Your original character before trauma vs. after trauma” trend on TikTok a minute back, and that wasn’t for nothing. 

Mike, just in S1, witnessed one of his best friends go missing, watched this best friend turn up apparently dead (as well as see his “body”), went to his funeral, jumped off of a ledge, saw his other newfound friend disappear, and so much more. Don't even get me started on the following seasons.

Mike is afraid of losing. That’s what happened to him in S1. He lost. First Will, then El. 

His fear of loss and determination to keep things in his life are significant parts of his character and have been since S1. That’s why he was so intent on finding Will. That's why he checked his walkie for El every night. That’s why he acts out in S3-S4. This isn’t an excuse for his behavior, but an explanation. It’s part of his trauma, and we see this in S4 with his fear of losing Will and El again: “Maybe I feel like I lost you or something,” and “I can't lose you,” respectively. I theorize that he fears being out of control regarding these things.

A lack of control also explains why he was so volatile to Will and El during and after Rink-O-Mania. For Will, Mike addresses this directly to him when he apologizes. It’s made evident to the audience that he acted cold in part because he thought Will was slipping away, but truthfully, he wasn’t aloof. He noticed everything about Will’s behavior and even managed to make the tragedy of that day about their friendship. Now, back to the apology, “About the last few days… You didn’t deserve anything… The truth is, the last year has been weird… Maybe I was worrying too much about El… And, I don’t know, maybe I feel like I lost you or something.” His defensiveness during the argument at the rink seems more like a trauma response than straight-up disinterest, which some people apparently think.

For El, I think this translates into him wanting her to need him. If El needs him, then there’s no way he can lose her, right? We know from the show that she doesn’t need him anymore. Mike also acknowledges this multiple times, and that thought terrifies him. In the last episode, he explains this to her, “... The truth is, El, I don’t know how to live without you… I can’t lose you, okay?”

Before Will shows Mike the painting in the van, Mike explains his dilemma. Will tries reassuring Mike, telling him that El will be fine, and Mike says he understands that. Mike then explains his true concern, “But what if after all this is over, she doesn’t need me anymore?... The truth is, when I stumbled on her in the woods, she just needed someone. It’s not fate, it’s not destiny, it’s just simple dumb luck. And one day, she's gonna realize that I’m just some random nerd that got lucky that Superman landed on his doorstep. I mean, at least Lois Lane is an ace reporter for The Daily Planet.” 

Will continues to comfort him, focusing more on the loss aspect of Mike’s trauma, which is made evident here. But those lines also make it clear that Mike is afraid El will realize his inferiority to her and abandon him. This is a good transition into Mike’s insecurity.

Insecurity

I’ve seen people argue against what Finn says here because Mike is part of the somewhat “outcast” group at school. I don’t think trying to argue that takes away from the fact that Mike did, does, and will continue to try and lead a “normal” lifestyle. He’s a teenage boy with a girlfriend and a friend group he fits into. That’s normal. He’s trying to get by. 

It was the same in S3. Mike was a kid with friends, a girlfriend, and a new want for maturity. It’s not unrealistic that the character is aging out of or into specific behaviors, especially ones that he’s previously exhibited. That leads us to his insecurity. 

We’ve had hints of it starting as far back as S1E3, when Troy injures Mike, and he initially lies about it to El so that he doesn’t seem like a loser. Similarly, these themes pick up with Will in S3E3 during their fight in the rain, “...We’re not kids anymore. I mean, what did you think, really? That we were never gonna get girlfriends? That we were just gonna sit in my basement all day and play games for the rest of our lives?”

Curiously, Mike is shown to be especially “normal” in California. He dresses differently than he does in Hawkins and acts more aloof. As Argyle says, “It’s a shitty knock-off.” Skipping forward to the “... She's gonna realize that I’m just some random nerd that got lucky that Superman landed on his doorstep… at least Lois Lane is an ace reporter for The Daily Planet” line, and we have a good enough view of Mike’s internal conflict.

He is deeply insecure, and it seems particularly so around El. I don’t know if this was addressed in the show, and I wish we had seen some of Mike’s letters, but does El even know about the Hellfire Club? I don’t believe we’re given any indication that she does, which could imply that Mike kept it hidden from her. It wouldn’t be surprising, considering his complete attitude change in California. Also keeping in mind that Mike stopped playing D&D when he was with her in S3 and only continued to play in S4 while El was away.

Mike also displays this insecurity by choosing to distance Will. For what reason, I can’t say for sure, but it’s probably something “abnormal.” 

Regardless, his insecurity ties into his fear of loss. The more normal he is, the more things he can maintain in life and the less he has to lose. Especially when it comes to El. It all stems back to his fear, not genuine malintent, and I see too many viewers misunderstand this. 

It also works the opposite way, to a different and lesser extent. If he’s out of Hellfire Club, he loses his “normal teenage clique.” Aside from losing El completely as someone he profoundly cares about, if he loses El as a partner, he loses his girlfriend. That’s a blow to his normality. 

Will is confusing to me. If he “loses” Will, just like he felt he did at the beginning of S4, he falls more into the pattern of trying to be normal. There’s no impact on his normality. By keeping Will at arms-length, Mike gravitated more towards his “shitty knock-off” version of himself. Something about Will brings out what Mike feels is abnormal in him, so by distancing himself, he could avoid it altogether. That’s likely in part what caused such a conflict at the beginning of S4: Mike’s inability to be “normal” while fully keeping Will in his life and vice versa, his inability to lose Will just to maintain normalcy.

"STurn"

We’ve focused on trauma and insecurity. Now, it’s time for self-identity. I think that's a theme in store for the future. I'll refer back to the “STurn” analysis I previously did.

Many of the songs on this playlist contain themes of a false identity. I’ll start with “Angst In My Pants” first. To quote my "STurn" analysis:

This song is about a person attempting to be someone they're not, suppressing who they really are, and it ultimately leading to dissatisfaction. The lyrics, "You can dress nautical / Learn to tie knots / Take lots of Dramamine / Out on your yacht" describe a faux lifestyle one lives that only serves to hurt them in the end: The idea of putting on a self-harming persona. This could be what Mike is going through in S5.

Next, we have "Substitute":

This track is about an idealized version of someone being put in place of their true self. The narrator describes a scenario in which their partner sees a version of them, "I'm a substitute for another guy / I look pretty tall but my heels are high / The simple things you see are all complicated / I look bloody young, but I'm just back-dated, yeah", that is unrealistic and put on, as seen in the lyrics "Substitute your lies for fact / I see right through your plastic mac / I look all white, but my dad was black / My fine-looking suit is really made out of sack"... The concept of a guise applies well to Mike, as referenced in Angst In My Pants. A recurring theme of hiding oneself really makes me think Mike is going to completely abandon his interests for a different lifestyle. I believe Finn has also mentioned that Mike wants to be as "normal" as possible, so I can't wait to see [how far] they take that idea. It could also be him realizing how he's been acting, and admitting that this "romanticized" version isn't true to him.

Finally, "The Rebel Kind":

Like The Better Side, I couldn't find any lyrics, so I'm doing it by ear. Though, I'm happy to say that this song is about a desire to embrace differences and rebellion. "We'll be free to run with the rebel kind" and "It's not easy, but I don't mind / I just want to run with the rebel kind" establish that. The track appears to tie into Mike's insecurity struggles throughout the playlist. It could be the narrator's struggle to keep up with societal norms before finally giving in to their truth instead of trying to conform, read as "they call us rebels but don't get how hard it is to for us to keep up." On the other hand, it could be the narrator commenting on how society doesn't understand people like them, and, by embracing their true selves, it proves more about who they are than conforming ever would; read as, "you think we're the rebellious ones, but you don't understand that we're more self-secure and strong than you'll ever be." I can see both of these interpretations working for Mike and his connection to the Party. The progression of insecurity in Angst In My Pants and potential realization of this guise in Substitute is wrapped up by Mike's self-acceptance here. I really hope this is how it plays out in S5.

Conclusion

Mike's brewing insecurity, paired with his trauma of loss, seems like it may boil over in S5. I theorize that he’ll drift even more into his “shitty knock-off” self, even if just on the surface, and do whatever he can to maintain normalcy in his life. Whether this leads to more conflict with Will, we’ll have to wait and see.

Besides that, Mike might eventually accept his "differences." He also may be willing to cope with loss for what it is, even if it’s the loss of the normalcy he tries so hard to maintain in certain situations. I can see Mike having a heavy emphasis on self-identity in S5, and as I said earlier, I can’t wait to see where they take that.

Thank you for reading; I hope you enjoyed!

As is customary with all my posts, if anything here is incorrect or you believe there’s something I should add, feel free to let me know. I’d love to have more conversations about Mike and read all the predictions for S5 I can.

[annerbhp]

So who remembers the Four Seasons Landscaping press conference debacle of November 7th, 2020? You know, the one held across the street from the sex shop. And the endless memes after of “imagine your OTP: who owns the landscaping company and who owns the sex shop”?

Well, yeah, I wrote this thing for it a long while back. And yes, of course I made Harry work at the sex shop and Ginny at the landscaping company. Decided I should just schedule it to post on the next November 7th. Enjoy!

Come Again (Harry/Ginny, meet-cute, Harry works at a sex shop, bad flirting, Ginny’s into it anyway, non-magic world, Teen, no content warnings. Other than, you know, sex shop inventory!)

Harry glances up from his magazine at the sound of the shop door opening. He cursorily looks over the customer—young woman, mid-twenties, red hair, short, athletic build—before returning his attention to the magazine. He’s noticed most customers don’t particularly like the feeling of being watched. Some people flee immediately upon catching him watching them. Especially women.

Sure enough, out of the corner of his eye, he can see her slip down the aisle furthest from the cashier counter, the one full of costumes and larger objects far too difficult for anyone to steal.

“Harry?”

He looks over at Tara near the breakroom at the back where she’s pulling on her coat. “Are you off?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she says, swinging her purse over her shoulder. “Are you sure it’s okay if I take Tuesday morning off?” She’s biting at her lower lip, as thinking his offer was somehow a trap. He wonders what kind of shit she had to put up with at her last job. Or it could just be him. Maybe she’s still trying to get used to him as their manager or something.

“Yes,” he says, forcing his voice patient. “Go get your tooth looked at. I’ll cover the shift, no problem.”

“Thank you,” she says in a rush. She glances over, catching sight of the ginger. “Want me to cover this one before I go?”

“I’ve got it,” he says, and it occurs to him that maybe she’s more nervous about leaving him to do the shift on his own than she is that he’s going to get mad at her for taking the time off.

He’d be offended by that if he hadn’t spent the last three weeks completely in over his head. But he’s starting to get the hang of it now.

Tara waves and leaves out the back.

“So you’re the owner then? You don’t look like a Luna.”

He turns to find the customer standing in front of him. He glances at the big sign out front declaring this store as Luna’s sex toys and more store.

“What? Oh,” he says. “No. I’m just filling in for her for a few months. She’s out on maternity leave. Twins.”

“Ah, so you’re just the understudy,” she says.

“Something like that.”

Pull yourself together, Potter.

“Then you’re…” She waves a finger around in a circle, encompassing the whole store. “In the business?”

He laughs. “No.” He realizes a moment too late how bad that sounded, and rushes on. “She was going to have to shut the shop down or cut her time home, but I’m between careers at the moment, so I figured I could cover for her.” He has no idea why he is spilling his life story out at her, and he considers that maybe Tara had seen what he hadn’t when she’d been so reluctant to leave him on his own. “It’s been a bit of a learning curve, I admit. Though mostly it seems to be about putting customers in categories and treating them accordingly.”

Her eyes narrow, as if sensing an insult towards the kind of people who might come to a shop like this. “Meaning what, exactly?”

“No,” he says, desperately trying to backpedal. “It’s just… Look. It’s like setting expectations? There’s people who come for joke gifts, the people who pretend they are here for joke gifts because they are too embarrassed to want to buy something, the people who know exactly what they want and get right to it, and the people who are here because of rebounds. Each kind of person would prefer to be treated differently: ignored, helped, given stern looks. So it’s just about figuring out which kind of customer they are, so I can make this easiest for them.”

The customer is now frowning at him. “You know that still sounds kind of creepy, even if it makes sense.”

“Studying people is kind of my thing.”

She only looks more alarmed.

“Not in a creepy stalker way! Or in a ‘I want to draw your picture’ way. I was a profiler. You know, criminals?”

“Ah, so now the customers are criminals.”

He would think he just can’t win with this maniacal customer, but she was smiling now, clearly teasing him. “Only if you try to walk off with Gary shoved down your shirt,” he gamely replies.

She turns to follow his gesture, letting out a low laugh at the sight of an enormous oversized novelty cock with a face on the tip. It’s not a ‘I’m nervous and about to break down into a fit of giggles’ laugh either, so Harry is pretty sure this is a customer who won’t mind being offered help.

“So is there anything in particular I can help you find?” he asks.

“You tell me.”

Said in any other tone, that might sound like a come on, but it was more challenging than coy. “Excuse me?” he asks.

“Am I here for a joke gift? Profile me.”

He looks her over, eyes lingering on the details. A new sweater (he could see the strip where the sticker had been removed very recently). Her hair looked freshly cut, the way she touched it said it was not the length she was used to, maybe having cut it off recently. There was the slightest indentation on her ring finger, a faint tan line.

“You’ve recently broken off a long-term relationship, either started when you were both very young, with someone who likes vanilla sex that you found boring, or with someone who was offended by the idea of you using any toys because it felt like cheating and made you get rid of them.”

She stares back at him, eyes wide.

He said it all without thinking, really, just speaking as it came to him, these thoughts about who she was that he might come up with about a case.

“Sorry,” he says, certain he’s just cost Luna a customer. “I’m sure I’m way off.”

“No,” she says, “you’re annoyingly on-point.”

He winces, realizing that’s probably even worse.

Definitely time to try to make a tactful retreat, if at all possible. But before he can back away, she’s speaking again.

“I used to have a Shibari before he made me toss it. Any thoughts on what might be like that? Only better. And bigger. Longer battery life.”

“Uh,” he says, floundering for a moment. Then he walks over to a shelf, pointing at a slim lavender-colored wand vibrator. “I can tell you the mini halo is really popular. But Luna always says it depends on what you’re looking for, not what other people want.”

Her eyebrow lifts, and it occurs to him that he has basically just asked for detail about her sex life. Yup. It’s possible he’s out of his element. He ends up texting Luna, for some reason not wanting to lead this particular customer astray. Not just because she seems pretty great. She deserves to get what she wants after all! Everyone does!

Getting tired of the back and forth, the customer eventually just grabs his phone and texts Luna directly, debating the finer points of the Soul Sucker. The woman’s smile—stupidly lovely, really—No, not appropriate, Harry!—is wider and wider as she gets into a really long exchange with Luna. Ending with a gasp of adoration when Luna apparently texts a picture of her sons.

The text exchange eventually dies down, the customer giving Harry a bald, assessing look.

“What?” he asks, refusing to shift back and forth on his feet, reminding himself of his long career as a criminal investigator—which would mean more if he hadn’t burned out and left with no real plans for anything else he’s going to do instead. Other than manage a sex toy store, apparently.

“She wants to know how you’re doing,” the woman asks. Her eyes narrow as she studies him a bit longer, and, shit, she should consider a career as an interrogator. She nods her head, like coming to a decision and then starts typing away again, this time narrating as she does.  “Approachable, only slightly creepy, blushes at a minimum, non-judgmental, but needs an education.”

He lets out a startled laugh, not offended in the least. Actually a better rating than he’d expect. “Trust me, every day in this shop is an education.”

Her eyebrow lifts. “I can only imagine.” She hands his phone back and sweeps up the Soul Sucker and the mini halo too.

Harry helpfully points out the displays of various lubes, letting her head over there by herself as he steps back behind the counter.

A guy comes in then, picking up a pre-order which is thankfully much more straight forward, a package already put together by Tara before she left.

By the time he’s done ringing him up, the woman has made her final selections, putting them down on the counter. He scans each one, slipping them into a bag without looking at them. Not his business!

“And with the five percent break up discount, that comes to….”

“Discount?” she asks. “I don’t need your pity.”

“What?” he asks, feeling like he’s messed up yet another thing. “No, seriously. It’s a thing.” He flips the card with five different set barcodes on it, handing it over to her.

You’re better off without them! – 5% Never too late to figure out what you like! – 5% Congrats on embracing your sexual identity! – 5% You’re a few bucks short, but still deserve joy – 5%

She looks at him in surprise.

He shrugs. “Luna.”

She seems to relax then. “Which one am I getting?”

“Does it matter?” he asks.

She lets out a huff. “Guess not.” She hands over a credit card and he really does his best not to look at her name or anything, but it is sort of a part of credit safety? Or something?

Ginny Weasley. Is her name. It sounds vaguely familiar, though he can’t quite place it.

She signs the receipt, and he passes over the bag. “Have a nice day,” he says, almost automatically.

“Oh, I’d better,” she says, lifting the bag.

He really tries not to blush. He really does. Professional, Potter. Real professional.

Only then she’s giving him a wink and walking towards the door. “Let me know if you ever need help with landscaping,” she says, “so I can return the favor.” 

Harry pauses at the strange words, frowning, resisting the urge to look down at his body.

She’s definitely laughing at him now. “The landscaping company next door? Weasley’s Landscaping? It’s where I work. The family business.”

“Oh,” Harry says with a sudden rush of understanding. She works right next door. Where he will likely see her. Again. Quite often. “Right. I definitely will.” 

“Great. See you around.”

He can’t help grinning. “Come again!” he calls out after her.

He can hear her laughter as the door shuts behind her.

It takes Harry a while to realize he’s humming as he starts taking stock of the strap-ons inventory.

Just another lovely day in Luna’s shop.

[twwings]

so I spent the last few months just marathoning The Magnus Archives??? I was curious and I have a long-ish commute that I need to fill with audio, so I went for it. I was somewhat spoiled by fanart I saw randomly over the years but not entirely spoiled, and I quite enjoyed it. Some thoughts (both positive and negative thoughts below) because I wanted to write them down as I chew over the show. Also my ramblings might be pleasurable to folks who are big fans and enjoy hearing about people listening to their thing for the first time?

Spoilers for all of TMA, but as I haven't listened to The Magnus Protocol yet (I'm sure I will) no spoilers for that.

thoughts in no particular order:

didn't know that my trypophobia could be activated aurally! thanks, season one. it's good to learn about yourself

because I had seen lots of fanarts around, I knew that Jon/Martin would eventually be a canon thing, so I just spent the early episodes making fun of Jon whenever he was mean about Martin. Jon would be like "ugh, Martin, amirite?" and I'd yell at the car speakers like "lol you're gonna MARRY that guy"

sometimes I found the show a little boring or too expositiony (like the episode where Leitner shows up) and it made me think a lot about the conditions of production, like, having fans who were super into the show and red stringing it up clearly made them want to explain things sometimes in a way not necessary to the story - or, at least, it didn't feel necessary to me as a casual listener who was coming in after the fact and not part of the fandom. maybe it felt necessary for other folks, or to the cast and crew at the time.

relatedly, oh god, I did not keep up with all the plotlines and stuff. like it took me a WHILE to realize that the show was not just gonna be standalone/anthology stuff and would have an overarching plot so I did not pay attention early on to repeated names or plots. and because I was listening on my commute I was like "welp, can't google it, gonna let it go" and I did. I'm here to tell you that the magnus archives is still enjoyable even if you don't care that much about what's going on

when I did really start to care was the end of season four/season five. absolutely love that they went there with the end of season four (I thought it'd just be a buffy-style "now we fight a BIGGER big bad at the end of this season" escalation forever, but no, they unleashed hell on earth, baller move, A+, loved it

so I was spoiled that Martin (and Jon? I wasn't sure) died at some point, though I didn't really know where or how. I also saw someone post something like "oh TMA, great show, too bad it ends after five minutes into episode 160" so from that I kind of extrapolated that Martin died in episode 160? so my experience of listening to that one was REALLY on tenterhooks because the first five minutes was Martin going for a nice walk! and then Jon getting taken over by the statement! so while listening to the middle bit of 160 I was convinced that when Martin came back from his walk Jon was gonna kill him (while possessed, obviously) as part of the ritual thing. so really the following 40 episodes of Martin being alive were pretty sweet to me. Every episode after that when Martin was alive I was like, score, bonus, love it, I'm glad Jon didn't stab him three seconds after they got into a relationship

kept listening for a physical description of Jon to match all the fanart and never got one? I guess the fanon of what Jon looks like is just super consistent for some reason?

hated Tim, I can't disguise it, I hated Tim and I was glad when he died and I was glad he didn't come back, sorry Tim fans, live your truth and I will live mine

wish there weren't so many cops on this show, tho the show did seem to recognize that a little in S5 and try to do some things about it

I'm just a huge sucker for every genre experiment in S5. omg I loved it. Terminus gets a coroner's report, The Unknowing gets slam poetry, The Flesh gets a gardening manual?????? mwah. it made me excited for the format of the statements again when they'd gotten stale. so many smart and interesting genre experiments in S5! and I, like Jon, don't even like poetry (just write some prose! I've never identified with a character more), so you know I'm impressed when I'm exclaiming about some poem

seriously! the genre experiments!!! so good

"queer couple navigate their new relationship and also The Hellscapes" = amazing, ty, also ty for doing it twice

somehow I managed not to notice the line about Jon being asexual at first and then I saw some tumblr post about it and I was like, wait what? my brain had gone pretty far down into some non-asexual fanfiction stories before I got that bit of canon and had to record-scratch freeze-frame. anyway I am pleased by the ace rep and hope to go read some non-sexual D/s for them in the future, please tell me if you know some good stuff

please also tell me if you know about fanfictions where Martin consensually feeds Jon his own memories and it's weird and intense

saw a cute fluffy domestic fanart where Jon was blind (ie had blinded himself to escape the eye) and I laughed and laughed that this is a fandom in which the happy fluffy AUs are the ones where the characters have violently blinded themselves. not to say I'm not gonna read the fluffy AUs where they've violently blinded themselves, I am, I'm sure they're lovely, it's just funny

don't think I wasn't thinking about Crowley and Aziraphale in the episode where Jon is like "what if we ran away together" in season four. When Jon is like "What if we ran away together, you and me, we could do it, what if we did" and he absolutely knows that Martin is not gonna say yes and maybe he doesn't want Martin to say yes but he wants to ask him anyway, he wants to try it anyway, because the fantasy of escape, together, is overpowering. anyway don't think I didn't think about Crowley

also laughed and laughed at the like four episodes at the end where Jon is like "maybe I should . . . . . . . . . . . become the Torment Nexus? From the classic scifi novel, Don't Become the Torment Nexus?" and first Martin and then everyone else is like "Jon, don't become the Torment Nexus" and it's really clear that you should not become the Torment Nexus but then later Jon says fuck it and becomes the Torment Nexus

I say it's really clear but the idea that you should strand and isolate and burn out the powers is not a bad one. I did like that the second to last episode was just a debate on morality with no clear resolution. that's a lovely way to send off your characters. tho it didn't matter a lot to the end plot? but still.

Jon "I think I'll just become the Torment Nexus" Simms, istg

THE TORMENT NEXUS

Sue Simms' voice is incredibly hot, Gertrude Robinson is absolutely deadass smokin, love how the Legend of Gertrude just built up over the seasons until by the end she was this like powerful callous avenging angel, no notes, might build a shrine in the woods with pictures of Gertrude in little jars

Gerry and Jurgen were both madly in love with her and she didn't notice or care because she was too busy kicking ass, no notes AT ALL

I really like the bit at the beginning of S5 where Jon is depression-listening to old archives tapes, like it's really effective to do the birthday party flashback just there when the world's just been apocalypsed, but I can't stop thinking about how Jon is listening to that tape and, in retrospect, being like "did Elias/Jonah use his all-powerful knowledge and vision to find out that there was cake in the office?" idk it really feels like Elias's motives in that flashback are like "eat cake" and no one else realizes that he's used his monstrous evil eye power to locate cake. anyway I imagine that Jon had all of these thoughts during his depression

Basira made me laugh ALL THE TIME, the voice acting was so good and she was so over everyone's shit. but at the same time there's this real softness to her at the end of S5 after she's killed Daisy, like she's still tough and grounded in her own perspective but suddenly more compassionate or sympathetic. she has such a good journey over the show

were Basira and Daisy a thing? I could not tell. maybe I should not ask. maybe I am not meant to know. maybe even asking shows how little I know, because their intense and murderous bond exceeds traditional relationship categories

I had a really nice time!!!

I will need to read fanfictions

I will need to watch animatics

I will need to seek out fanarts

the end

[the-fiction-witch]

The Chess Boy

Media The Queens Gambit

Character Benny Watts

Couple Benny X Reader

Rating Flirty

I walked the rather dismal New York streets it was grey, and rainy as it often is and for once I had journeyed out of my basement. I headed down the street a couple of blocks and turned down an alley making sure to turn where I needed to having long since learnt the path. Until I saw the little shop off the main street with its small sign above. 

'Y/ns' 

I headed inside the little shop and immediately felt fairly comfortable, Y/n's is a weird place. But I Like the place, It's hard to explain what it is, It sells magazines but it's not a newsagent, it sells sex toys but it's not a sex shop, it sells movies but it's not a rental place, they do tattoos but it's not really a tattoo parlour, it's kind of just... anything somewhat taboo it kind of does. And if they don't have something you can very easily ask for it and things will be found for you. I like the place it's a very accepting kind of place, I looked over a few magazines and glanced at some clothes they had when I caught behind the counter the beaded curtain separates and outstepped her Y/n herself. Let's face it the actual reason I come here. 

She stepped through in a pair of platform knee-high black buckle boots, a white tight, a white shirt with long ruffled cuffs around her elbows, and a black and white plaid pinafore dress the skirt of which barely hit her mid-thigh, silver jewellery all over her wrists and chest, long red coffin shaped nails that matched her blood red lips, intense almost grey contour and eye shadow with black graphic liner, her hair black with smooth glamourous curls and a V-shaped set of bangs, A few black tattoo's up her arms. She held the beaded certain in her hands above her head as she looked out into the shop. God damn, she looked like an album cover... And I loved it! 

She cracked a smile, "Well, well, If it isn't The Chess Boy." 

I smiled, "Yeah, yeah it's me." I nodded slipping my hat off and going to the counter with her, leaning my elbows on the wooden glass counter filled with various honestly frightening-looking items. "It's uhh it's Benny by the way."

"I remember." She cooed leaning on the counter too "So? Talk to me about chess Benny." She whispered in a hush seductive tone,

... well that might be the quickest way to turn me on.

"Well, I just got back from a tournament in Houston."

"Ohh?"

I told her every last detail of the games, who they were against, how I beat them all and she hung on my every word as if I was reading her romantic sonnets and nothing could make me more attracted to her than her listening to me like this, She always did this when I saw her always took such interest in what I had to say even if I know from playing chess with her she doesn't really get it. 

 "So, yeah seasons all done back here for a bit," I told her, "And I hustled Whice out of thirty bucks." 

"Humm good, I missed you," she smiled and played with my hair, 

I held my breath as she plaid with my hair, doing my best not to reveal the effect she had on me, "you uhh you did?"

"Hmm, what brings you in today?"

"I just fancied seeing you," I shrug, 

"Humm aren't you sweet." She smiled, "Well I happen to know of some very interesting magazines just come in."

"ohh I saw, very interesting... I'm liking this new, mini skirt thing going on."

"I bet you do," she smirked, fixing my jacket collar before she headed across the shop, "In the magazines or on me?" She smiled, 

I smirked turning to lean my elbow on the counter so I could watch her move, fuck her ass nearly slips out the bottom of that damn dress, "Both."

"Humm quiet the charmer aren't you?" 

"I try," I shrug, "What uhh what have you got going on today?" 

"Nothing much, a client at four for a tattoo, and a shipment of leather is coming in from across town at six," she explained, 

"I uhh I don't mind hanging around, giving you a hand." 

"You're welcome to stay Benny I'm not gonna kick you out you're too much fun to have around," she smirked, 

"I am?"

"Yeah, just one day you have to let me do something to you," she smirked coming back to the counter, 

"Something like what?" 

"Hummm... what is the question." she cooed, "I think, you'd look very cute with dark hair."

"Oh? You wanna dye my hair?"

"Kinda." 

"or is it just because you're still isn't that few weeks you can't dye your hair."

"...I mean that's probably part of it yeah." she shrugged, 

"No thanks, I like my hair."

"Fine," she pouts, "Would you let me... I've you a tattoo,"

"Of what?"

"Whatever," she shrugged, "I could do you a chess piece. or a poker chip. Or... if you really wanted to get cool I could checkerboard your leg that would be cool."

"Wouldn't that hurt? Like... a lot."  

"Yeah, but it would be cool."

"No thanks Y/n."

she pouted again, "What about a piercing? maybe you'd look hot with your ear done?" 

"You are just determined to make the stand out at the next tournament aren't you?" 

"I think you'd look cool." She smiled, "Plus you are kinda running out of areas to accessorize." she laughed taking some stock and heading to the back to do work, 

"True," I nodded watching her climb a small stool to stock some magazines I admit my eyes lingered longer than they should but... fuck she looked good. "I know I need something doing,"

"Oh? enlighten me?" 

"I need to trim my damn face its bugging me."

"Noooo!" She whined, 

"What?"

"No, You shave I'm kicking you in the crotch."

"Really?" I asked going over,

"Yeah, I love your little tickly face." She cooed, "You can't shave I'll be devastated."

"I won't shave then, just for you. I will trim it though it's getting too long."

"Not too much," she warns,

"Not too much, just for you." 

"Good," She smirked, playfully petting my hair before she leant down and gave my lips a kiss which was enough to make me jump a little, "Yeah good point you are kinda getting straggly," She said pinching my chin a little before she went back up, 

"How would you know? you've not kissed me before, maybe I'm just always like this?"

"Maybe," she smirked as she finished up her stocking throwing the box in the corner before she sighed and acted as if she was fainting falling off the steps which gave me a heart attack as I only just managed to catch her holding her like a bride in my arms, "Maybe I need a little more research," She smirked wrapping her arms lazily around my neck, 

"Well, research is always very important, no greater tool in chess than studying."

"Humm shut up Benny." She smirked pulling us together to connect our lips, I happily and early kissed her holding her body tight as our kiss very quickly became passionate. 

"Uhh am I interrupting something?" A voice spoke up which made us pull back seeing a man at the door, 

"Hey Mark, you're good go on back I'll be there in a sec." She smiled getting herself down from my arms, The guy headed back to the tattoo section of the shop and she got some stuff from her counter, "Now, you think you can be helpful Benny?"

"How helpful?"

"Can you watch the counter for me while I go doddle a spider on that guys arm?" 

"Am I getting paid,"

"You'll be... reimbursed." 

"oh yeah? How?"

"Use your imagination." she smirked 

"Yeah, sure,"

"Thank you," she smiled giving my lips another kiss before she scampered back, 

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Hi! I think Season 5 was a really weird time to invert the love square - it just kind of happens, and the reasons don’t feel very organic, to say the least - I think fandom already has enough to say about it (and hey, you’ve probably talked about it too!)

So if you had to do it (keeping in mind 5 seasons, and canon’s overall structure), where would you invert it? I’ve had this question for a while, and recently arrived to, I’d do it in Miracle Queen, possibly show Marinette or Adrien reconsidering in a post credit scene (or in general, after the scene where they’re all sitting and Marinette goes for Luka). Main reason for me is, Miracle Queen is pretty inconclusive on the shipping aspect - it opens with Adrien being uncertain of his relationship with Kagami, and ends with Adrien still unsure, and Marinette finally accepting Luka.

On the Marinette side, that last part might seem pretty conclusive, but after she suffered a major loss (going with canon’s “Marinette lost Fu” here despite the many problems I have with the way Fu was written), I think the emotional void really couldn’t be properly filled with Luka, and had Chat Noir’s character not gone down the drain after the season finale, he’d be the only real option Marinette can consider even talking to - temp heroes outed, kwamis being glorified toys, barely anyone even knowing Fu and all that. In my ideal world, she would’ve at least moved on from Adrien (wherein canon of course has to insist on the OTP), and I feel Chat Noir fills the void very naturally.

On the Adrien side, I think him interrupting the kiss was a sign of him not knowing what he wants out of a relationship in general - he seemed to be moving on from Ladybug in Hearthunter, and the Ladynoir in Miracle Queen to me felt much closer to them being together against the world (which is… exactly what the episode says out loud), not falling in love. I don’t think Kagami would want a relationship with Adrien after that whole mess (and that did end up being the case), so the closest non Ladybug option would be Marinette. So not a random “I love Marinette because she’s so nice and she kissed me after I pranked her” (canon please 🙄), but more of a “Marinette has always been so nice to me, instead of bothering Ladybug even more I’ll at least try getting a little closer to Marinette” and things develop from there on out.

But Season 4 threw my hope and dreams onto a burning landfill so that was cool. Anyways, how would you structure it? This got a bit long haha

Don't apologize, that was an interesting and quite good argument for flipping the crushes at Miracle Queen. I hadn't really thought about it before, but that would have been a much more satisfying way to shake things up in season four instead of waiting until season five and then speed running the flip only to immediately undo Marinette's side of the flip all within six episodes. I think that your alternate season four could have worked, though it would require season four to really lean into the ending of season three instead of largely ignoring it.

Since you asked where I'd do it if I had to flip the crushes, I'll give you my thoughts, but first I want it put on the record that I hate the idea of both crushes flipping mid-show. One crush flipping feels reasonable, but both? At the same time? That's really hard for me to buy, especially since you'd have to do it pretty quickly given the way canon is structured. You can't drag things out for episodes at a time. Most things take, at most, two episodes.

I'm also not sure what the point of flipping the crushes is. It feels less like narrative progression and more like a stalling tactic since the love square will only get together if one crush flips. Both crushes? Same square, different angle (I jokingly call it the love diamond.)

And yet, canon actually managed to pull off a very solid reverse crush setup. If season five had started off with the crushes flipped, then I would have totally believed it. Marinette just had her crush on Adrien cost her all of the miraculous. That's a very good way to kill a crush just like finding out Chat Noir's identity is a very good way to banish her fears from that event, allowing her to have the confidence to stay with Adrien post-reveal.

Similarly, Adrien just spent a whole season being sad about Ladybug not giving him enough attention, leading up to an episode where Marinette saw that he was suffering and reached out (if only because of magic). I absolutely believe that he'd start falling for Marinette and be less upset with Ladybug post-reveal now that he knows that she has been supporting him all along. He was just looking for support on the wrong side of the mask.

Instead of taking advantage of that setup, canon delayed the flip a few episodes and made it wholly unbelievable. They really give us an episode where Ladynoir got married and had children, followed it up with the episode where the crushes flipped, and then tried to convince us that Marinette was the one who hadn't really fallen in love with Chat Noir. Marinette. The girl whose deepest desire is apparently marriage and children with Chat Noir. But her love isn't real? Really? Yet Adrien is really over Ladybug?

Bull. Shit.

Jubilation is not that setup you go with if Adrienette is your goal. It's the setup for Ladynoir.

Anyway, back to your question! As I detailed above, season five's intro episodes feel like the most obvious place to flip the square. I'd also be interested to see someone do it at Miracle Queen like you discussed, though it would be much less straight forward than season five, making it a better fit for a fanfic than canon in my opinion as I think you'd be hard pressed to do it well within the confines of canon's structure.

My other top choice is Origins because I am a love diamond purist. I think that it's the easiest way to fix a lot of canon's issues. For example: Marinette hanging magazine clippings of her friend/crush all over her walls for all to see with the full knowledge that she actually knows this guy? Kinda weird. Why are you writing it like she has a celebrity crush and not a "real person" crush?

Marinette hanging magazine clippings of her secret hero partner all over her walls? Totally understandable. It's not like she can act like it's a "real person" crush without giving herself away or looking unhinged. Plus how else is she supposed to get pictures of him? It's not like she can take some of her own. That would lead to a lot of awkward questions! She'd also have no reason to think that he'd ever see her shrine. 😈

[evaglass]

Speculation about Mizu's parents pt. 6

Mizu has already killed one of the first white men, Violet. Fowler isn't going to last too long once there's no use for him, and assuming both Routley and Skeffington are in the British Isles, because I doubt the show will have Mizu relocate again farther from Japan to find her target, Mizu will most likely kill them three in season 2, and that seems a bit too easy.

Having her kill all the four white men by season 2 seems too quick, especially since the people behind the show want four seasons. It's too quick, unless there's a plot twist, like none of the four men being her father and none of them putting the bounty on her.

Don't get me wrong, they probably were involved in Mizu's mother getting killed. Remember the bird Mizu had to kill when on the mission Madame Kaji requested?

A bird flies from its nest for two reasons if a person is near, one reason is to fly away from danger. The other reason is that if the bird has eggs or hatchlings, it will try to defend its nest, like how the bird in that scene tried to do.

Look at the way the dead bird was laid out, the four white eggs that are there, almost like they're looking at the dead mother bird.

It looks like these two scenes I brought up before.

Mizu finding out her mother was the European one instead of her father will not make her happy; it will fill her with a lot of complicated feelings, especially anger, and she might even hate her mother. The worst part about it is that her mother is likely dead, and she can't enact her vengance on her mother if she's already dead. She will believe it was all for nothing.

I do think she will probably eventually find self-acceptances, especially if she finds out her mother really did love her and died protecting her. Maybe she'll even find an old diary of her deceased mother describing how much she loves her.

The revelation will probably lead to Mizu wondering who actually put the bounty on her, which will lead her back to Japan seeking answers, which will set up Lady Itoh as the final antagonist.

I already can tell Akemi is gonna have conflict with Lady Itoh, especially if Akemi and Takayoshi start developing actual romantic feelings for each other because that would make Lady Itoh lose more control over him. I highly suspect Lady Itoh is behind the death of Takayoshi's first wife, so that puts Akemi in potential danger, and Lady Itoh has no problem trying to put Akemi down with what she pulled in the dinner scene. I think the common enemy of Lady Itoh will have Akemi and Mizu ally with each other

Going back to this scene, I think there's more potential foreshadowing to explore here. I think the man who tried to kill baby Mizu was voiced by the same man who also voices the older son, Kazuyoshi, while the man who stopped him was voiced by the same guy who also voices Takayoshi. I think this will foreshadow what choices Kazuyoshi and Takayoshi will make in the future.

Look at this scene that's in the POV of Kazuyoshi before he does what his mother tells him to do, which is to lock in the Lords to die because they saw his father's shame. Look at how his mother is in front, then Takayoshi, and then Kazuyoshi's own wife is way in the back.

This may show that Kazuyoshi puts his mother first, then his brother, and then his wife last. I think both Kazuyoshi and Takayoshi will have a choice: they will either have to choose their mother or their wives, and by extent, their possible half-sister Mizu.

Kazuyoshi will choose his mother, while Takayoshi will choose Akemi and Mizu.

The show has subtle moments of sibling tension and/or drama; Akemi and her younger half-brother show the different societal expectations set for them, Fowler's backstory with his dead sister who's kidneys he had to eat to survive, the two men in the beginning of episode three could have easily been brothers, the subtle hints that Kazuyoshi and Takayoshi could end up on opposite sides later in the show, and I also possibly believe that Mizu's mother may have been one of the four white mens' sister, mostly leaning towards Routley because of the "pretty eyes" comment from Fowler.

It could be possible that Routley brought his sister with him to Japan. I can assume that Violet was the oldest of the four men, and they all came from broken backgrounds like Fowler before Violet took them under his wing. It's probably why Fowler looked so upset when he realized Mizu was the one who killed Violet. Routley could have easily been an orphan with his sister before meeting Violet and working with him.

This would mean that Routley probably agreed to betray Mizu's mother in order to keep the deal with the shogunate intact, and oh man, I love sibling angst and betrayal. It's probably why Fowler thinks he's worse in his opinion.

Now there's one more film I want to talk about. It was cited that there were a good number of films that influenced the show, the main two being Yentl and Kill Bill, another I stated earlier was also Lady Snowblood.

Now I can't find any source to claim that the film I'm about to bring up also influenced Blue Eye Samurai, but it could be possible that it did, because like Kill Bill I heard it was also inspired by Lady Snowblood

I'm talking about the South Korean film Sympathy For Lady Vengeance.

I've also seen this film. It's about a woman named Lee Geum-ja who gets pregnant in her teens and decides to run away from home and stay with a former teacher of hers who used to make really inappropriate comments about her (she was a scared pregnant teen who wasn't thinking straight, and probably thought if she came home to tell her parents she's pregnant they would have kicked her out).

Obviously, it goes south pretty quickly. The man is still a teacher, and one day, he decides to murder a boy from another class. The teacher makes Geum-ja take the fall for him due to him threatening her baby's life. She falsely confesses to the murders and spends 13 years in prison, planning her revenge against the teacher for when she is released from prison.

When she is released, Geum-ja puts her plan in motion and also finds out her daughter was adopted by a couple in Australia and was named Jenny. She goes to Australia to meet her daughter, in which her daughter threatens to stab herself with a knife if she doesn't let her visit Korea.

Geum-ja loves her daughter, but Jenny is mad at her for giving her up (she's a 13 year old kid) she expresses that in a letter, which Geum-ja reads after getting it translated and then takes Jenny to where teacher is being held by her and makes him translate her speech to her in English

The reason I bring up this is not only because of influences from Lady Snowblood from what I heard, but also the themes involving mother-daughter relationships

The complexity, tragedy, sacrifice, anger, hate, sadness, and love can all align pretty well with Mizu and her mother. Mizu will no doubt have complex feelings about her mother, especially if she was the European one, but I think under the circumstances, I've brought up Mizu's quest for vengance will shift to making her potential white father pay for her existence to avenging her mother.

One more thing before I finally finish this. I want to briefly talk about the theory that Lady Itoh could be Mizu's mother or her maternal aunt. I can see where it's coming from, and it is possible, but I can also see it being a red herring

Yes, both Lady Itoh and Mizu have smaller faces, but Lady Itoh's features are still round and soft while Mizu's are angular and sharp; Lady Itoh's face is more oval shaped while Mizu's is more shaped like a diamond. Even up close, their noses look a bit different as well.

I also think that if any of the four white men actually impregnated and killed a Japanese noble woman when they first got to Japan, they would have lost the trading deal. Yeah, Fowler killed the Shogun, but that was after 10 years of building up an army. Plus pretty poetic that they're reminded of the woman they betrayed through her daughter's eyes.

But I'm open to being wrong. Anyway, I'm sorry this was long but now I'm done. Let me know what you guys think, I'm totally open for discussion

Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/Part 4/Part 5/Part 6

[milkytheholy1]

TMNT Masterlist

2003:

Leo:

Third base - Leo x Female Reader

Hey everyone, I currently have two requests left to do but I really want to get some stories that I personally came up with as well. I really want to try writing for different versions of the turts besides 2012 and Rise even if they are my fav versions. Sorry if the character interactions are a bit iffy in this one, I haven't seen much of the 2003 series I'm only up to season 2.

Donnie:

Drawn to you - Donnie x GN Reader

No, the tech-savvy turtle was drawn to you by your persistence, by the way you poured yourself into your work, how you understood the need to complete something no matter how long it took.

Mikey:

Turtle titan to the rescue! - Mikey x Female Reader

Okay so far warning, I haven’t really watched past season 3 of the 2003 series, I have been working my way through it though. So some characters might not sound or act like how they should from the show and I might end up getting some stuff wrong, so sorry in advance. This story will flip between 1st and 3rd person narrative.

2012:

All Turtles:

Turtle Power part 1

What if you included even more turtles in the hit tmnt movie, TMNT:Turtles Forever? This isn't an X Reader fic and takes places in the 2012 universe...well, for the start at least.

Leo:

Dear diary - Leo x GN Reader

Leo practicing how to ask them out with many many scripts for acting in front of a mirror:") or maybe they find out about his diary! You can pick

A confident strut - Leo x GN Reader

Went with the first one since it's been some time since I wrote for my 2012 boy! This is going to be set before the whole sister reveal, but I wanna make it clear that I do not ship Karai and Leo together cause that shit is gross. Enjoy!

I heard you - Leo x Female Reader

The reader,who has a crush on Leo, waits by Leo's side for him to wake up in the farm house and she is so relieved when he wakes up after months

Not traditional - Leo x Male Reader

The reader is giving Leo a whole sexuality crisis so Leo asks April if it's weird for a guy to like another guy and April reassures him that it's perfectly normal, and later that week Leo accidentally slips that he likes (y/n) and in a flash the have this little moment of understanding that they both like each other and want to be more than friends.

Goodbye Leonardo part 1 - Leo x Female Reader

I know what you're thinking, two stories in one night? This is somewhat based on the season four episode: Broken Foot. Also sorry it's so long but I had to fill in some blanks to get to the build-up of the story and sorry for the rushed ending it's currently past midnight where I'm from and I'm very tired.

Goodbye Leonardo part 2 - Leo x Female Reader

Okay, okay, you'll get your stinking part 2. This is probably one of the most requested fics I've ever done, the original intention was to leave it as a standalone fic. But, because you all seem eager for more I eventually broke and decided to do it. This is set a few years after the original and doesn't follow the episode 'Broken Foot' like the original oneshot. In my opinion, it's also waaay more angsty and it might actually be sadder than the first one. So I hope the wait was worth it, enjoy!

Donnie:

Wrong about me - Donnie x Female Reader

Donnie gets cheated on by April and (y/n) finds out and hurts April's feelings then comforts Donnie?

Hot - Donnie x Female Reader

Donnie was talking about some science stuff the last 20 minutes, but reader can't fully pay attention to what he's saying because they're just thinking about his voice, his gestures and everything. They think "don't you realize how hot you are?", but Donnie stops talking and reader realizes they just said that out loud and now they want to die.

Happy birthday - Donnie x GN Reader

it’s the reader’s birthday and the turtles just find out and they have to quickly set up a surprise birthday for the reader.

Well done science boy - Donnie x GN Reader

Had this idea in my head for a few days so thought I'd post it, I wanted to make it a shorter story than what I normally do but I got too lost in it and it ended up being just as long, oops. Hope you enjoy!

Hello nurse - Donnie x Female Reader

Literally did this so I could pull off one reference, that's all. Enjoy!

Raph:

Hots for you - Raph x Female Reader

Raph finds out that his girlfriend is bisexual?

Heard you from a mile away - Raph x GN Reader

not going to lie I had to search up what it meant, decided to do Raph since i've never written for him before in the 2012 version. So if this comes across as out of character, apologies. Anyway, enjoy!

2014/2016: Leo:

Red lips - Leo x Female Reader

“Don’t give me that face, it’s so cute I might not be able to hold back.”

Donnie:

Five years - Donnie x Female Reader

Donnie creates a portal that transports them to 2021.

Five years alt ending - Donnie x Female Reader

It’s weird how many people have asked me for them to have kids, but I guess if that’s what you guys want to see then here is a short version 2, if you will, of five years. Be sure to read the original or it won’t really make much sense, this is just the ending. Enjoy!

Life is a dream part 1 - Donnie x GN Reader

You felt the small vibrations of your phone in your pocket, pulling it out you saw Donnie was once again calling you crap, "H-hey Donnie, I promise I'm on Allen Street. I'm like less than a minute away." you panted into the device. You could hear his sigh through the speaker, "Don't worry about it, I'm just wasting valuable pop tart time." he joked, your laughter was his reward.

Part 2 - Donnie x GN Reader

Speaking of the brothers, Mikey was sat playing some video games while leaning over to slurp his coke, you could hear panting and the sounds of something being destroyed coming from the dojo Raph. Finally taking lighter steps into the lair, you could smell a sweet fragrance waft through the air Leo.

Part 3 - Donnie x GN Reader

"Do you remember that video where the cat plays chopsticks with the chopsticks?" Mikey asked, pushing aside Donnie and getting closer to your face. You flinched at his close proximity, your mind still trying to adjust to your bright surroundings. "Can we focus here?" Leo argued, pulling Mikey away from you, he securely wrapped his arm around his younger brother in case he felt the need to jump at you again.

Final part - Donnie x GN Reader

"What?" he asked, "Can I ask you something?" You pondered why you were willing to tell Raph some of your deep, dark thoughts and not someone like Donatello "It's a free country," he quipped going back to his knitting. "Right," you said, glancing down to avoid making eye contact "It's just that...do you think- feel like something is off?"

Mikey:

Parading in style - Mikey x Male Reader

So I don’t know much about pride parades in NYC but I can only imagine they’re triple the ones from where I’m from, I’m also not going to give you a description of Mikey’s human form as that can be up to you. I’ve learned from experience that everyone has a different view of these characters and it’s unfair to the reader to force them to take my view of what he could look like, so yeah he looks like whatever you want him to. Hope you enjoy!

Raph:

A cold night in new  - Raph x Female Reader

Reader's apartment building's heat went out during a really chilly spring day, so when raph comes over he's all like "why tf does she have the thermostat on 5 degrees", but then he finds her cuddled up with tons of blankets on the couch, watching tv. after turning down the volume, reader explains the situation with the heat while shivering and clutching the blankets. raph has a brilliant plan for this.

Begging - Raph x Female Reader

Bayverse Raph and his S.O get into a huge fight and he hurts her feelings and Raph found her on the rooftop crying and he asks for forgiveness

Seeing you - Raph x Female Reader

The reader feels invisible and lonely, so she confides in Raph and telling him how her current boyfriend is using and abusing her. Then later on Raph confesses his feelings for the reader but her abusive boyfriend catches the reader and raph together.

I promise - Raph x Female Reader

The reader has scars from her mother and she shows Raph while crying about them and Raph listens and comforts her.tumblr

[queenshelby]

The Fourth Season (Rewritten)

Part One: Intro

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Religious and Anti-Religious Themes

Notes:

Being obsessed with Cillian’s post Oppenheimer image, I have decided to rewrite this story as well and make it play during the filming of “Small Things Like These”…

I hope I still get some following and promise no further re-writes! Following my break from the fandom last year, I struggled a bit with finding my style and my head was a bit all over the place, so when I started this fanfic, I wasn’t planning it out properly. I do like the premise of it though and do not want to abandon it.

I also won’t rename it as “The Fourth Season” seems quite fitting considering that “Small Things Like These” follow a character leading up to Christmas.

Background

This fic plays in 2023 and, as usual, there will be an age-gap romance as Cillian is 46 and the reader is 25. I made her a little older than usual.

The reader comes from a strictly catholic family and, as a result, her family is appalled by the fact that the reader has taken a roll in this movie as it does not put the catholic church into a very good light.

For the reader, however, this is an opportunity not only for her career but also to get away from her family for a little while which is still in turmoil after the reader had separated from her high school sweetheart and husband James McCallum.  

As for Cillian, in early 2023, he is divorced with two young children. He has been single for three years and life was good. He finished filming Oppenheimer and took some time off before embarking in this passion project of his.

Six months ago…

Cillian’s POV

It was late July and the summer heat was scorching as Cillian walked down the pier in Dalkey with a fellow actor friend Matt Damon who, just like Cillian, had invested in the movie production.

The movie was said to be produced by Tim Mielants who also accompanied Cillian and Matt on their walk, and filming was scheduled to commence just after Christmas which left just one minor issue yet to be considered.

Whilst Cillian was staring the lead role of Bill Furlong, the woman who had been casted by Tim to play Bill’s wife Eileen had just pulled out, leaving this role yet to be filled with an affordable actress.

“You could ask Emily” Matt joked, seeing that both him and Cillian were close friends with Emily Blunt, but both of them knew that Emily would not be available for this role.

“I think we should concentrate on getting someone Irish” Tim told both Matt and Cillian who, by this point, had already come up with four unsuitable candidates for Tim to choose from.

“I think Matt was joking when suggesting Emily Blunt for the role” Cillian chuckled while adjusting his sunglasses and looking towards the horizon which prompted Matt to an idea.

“You know guys, I’ve seen a play last night at the Gaiety” he said before pulling out his phone and handing it to Cillian and Tim.

“The actress in that play was good and, when I say good, I mean really good. The play was called Dark Horizon and she played a widow named Siobhan who lost her husband at sea. Her ghost then plagued her until she was driven completely mad” Matt explained while showing Cillian and Tim the video he took from last night’s performance.

“She is good. What’s her name?” Cillian asked as he watched the video with an intention of his own to go and see the play.

“Y/N McCallum, aged twenty-five, from Cork” Matt said after pulling his phone from Cillian’s hand and opening the e-pamphlet which he had saved on his screen instead.

“She might be a little too young to play a forty something year old woman” Cillian chuckled while Matt put your name into Google.

“Make-up can take care of that” Tim said before continuing to read your agency profile and anything else that popped up in his newsfeed. “The bigger problem I see now is that she is married to James McCallum and working with couples on set might get a little annoying” Tim then pointed out, causing Cillian and Matt to furrow their eyebrows.

“Who is James McCallum?” Cillian asked as he could not remember anyone by that name

“He is in charge of logistics. You would have met him on the set of Peaky Blinders last year. He is thorough when it comes to staying within budget and organising essentials for the cast, which is why I hired him for the shoot” Tim explained and Cillian remembered him.  

“Fuck, I do remember that guy. He gave me a bible after he caught on to…you know…never mind…” Cillian said, aborting his sentence but Tim already knew.

“After he caught you and Sarah making out?” he thus said, causing Cillian to swallow harshly.

“Who is Sarah?” Matt wanted to know as he was not privy to this kind of onset gossip.

“His ex” Tim explained but Cillian shook his head.

“It wasn’t like that. It was just a fling. Nothing serious” Cillian pointed out but Tim couldn’t help but make another joke about it.

“Yeah, that’s why he gave you a bible, so that you could pray for forgiveness for your sins” Tim laughed before suggesting to see the play together with Cillian that night.

Your POV

Later that night, Cillian and Tim had indeed gone to see your play and the way you performed a troubled woman like the one on stage blew them away.

They were both mesmerised by your performance and ought to speak to you when you finished, which was something that you had not expected.

“This is a little weird but there are two men here to see you” one of the theatre clerks said after barging into the change room where you and some of the other actresses were putting on your regular clothes.

“That sure is weird” you joked, seeing that you did not usually get any visitors backstage.

“One of them is Cillian Murphy” the clerk then said and your chin dropped. You have heard of him, of course. Your husband had spoken of him in the past when working on set, although he did not have the nicest things to say about him.

“The actor?” you ought to clarify nonetheless, causing the clerk to nod.

“Yes” she said. “Do you want to speak with them?” she then wanted to know and, of course, you were intrigued about what they had to say.

“Tell them I will be just a minute please” you instructed the clerk who did as you had requested and, after putting on a jumper and tying back your hair, you met with Cillian and Tim in the lobby.

Both men greeted you professionally and with a handshake before telling you that they enjoyed the play and your performance.

“Thanks. I really appreciate it” you said before asking the men whether there was anything you could help them with and, when Cillian said that there was indeed something you could him with, you looked at him with some surprise.

“Okay, what is it?” you asked with a smile while struggling to focus. His eyes were really as blue as everyone had said and he must have noticed you starring at them by now.

“Well, we’ve got a role for you in a movie” Cillian said, causing Tim to furrow his eyebrows. Cillian was clearly more confident than he was and he would have approached this a little differently to say the least.

“And you want me to audition for it?” you queried, causing Cillian to shake his head.

“No, I want you to take it. Your performance on stage today was incredible and I would love to work with you” he responded, causing your chin to drop again.

“I have never been in front of a camera before” you explained but Cillian did not seem to care.

“There is always a first time for everything” he reassured you and you felt somewhat shocked.

“Well, I feel flattered” you said before asking Tim and Cillian for a script.

“I will send it to your agent tomorrow along with all of the particulars for production” Tim said just before shaking your hand and when Cillian said that he was looking forward to working with you, you could not help but chuckle.

“I didn’t say yes yet” you informed him. 

“I know, but I like being optimistic” he winked which left you and some other girls in the lobby somewhat speechless.

To be continued…

Please comment and engage. I love getting comments and predictions pretty please!

[vwritesaus]

It is no secret to anyone who knows him that Alastair Carstairs is an exceptional cook. Armed with the knowledge passed down from his mother and Risa, he felt it was his duty to keep the Persian traditions alive in their family, and the only way he felt comfortable doing it was through cooking. It was his escape when the piano keys felt slimy and sticky under his fingertips, and when his thumb and index fingers slowly became more and more smudged with ink stains from the mundane newspapers. Cordelia was the taste tester every time, no matter how burnt or salty or under seasoned his food was. He could trust her to give him an honest critique—and she always did, without preamble.       ‘Dadash, did you empty the entire Dead Sea into this? My tongue is burning.’       ‘Oh, this is better than last time! Just needs more chilli, it’s a bit on the mild side.’       ‘Alastair, this is extremely chewy. It’s meant to be softer, no?’       Though he would roll his eyes and pretend to be offended by every one of his sister’s comments, Alastair was glad for it all. It was their little pocket of solidarity in an otherwise distant relationship. Alastair’s own doing, of course, but he felt it necessary at the time.       He was four years old when he first showed an interest, according to Sona. By eleven, Alastair was comfortable enough to cook a couple of simple dishes without any help. By fifteen, he was a self-proclaimed master. Yes, he made mistakes sometimes—as all good cooks do—but he knew his way around a kitchen, just as Cordelia knew her way around Cortana. Naturally it was something he kept to himself: if he had disclosed to any of the boys who bullied him at the Shadowhunter Academy that he, a male, loved and knew how to cook, and was taught how to by the women in his life, it would have given them yet another few reasons to belittle and assault him.       Being his father’s son and a boy with darker skin was already too many reasons. So Alastair kept his passion quiet, known only to his mother, his sister, and Risa. He’s sure Elias never knew, for if he had, Alastair is certain he would have put a stop to it somehow. All it took was one remark to have Alastair give up and push it down. His love for piano and singing, for instance.       But Alastair and Cordelia made it a regular occurrence to take over the kitchen and get under Risa’s feet, in her words. He cherishes those memories, where flour would coat the front of his waistcoat and parts of Cordelia’s hair, and the fragrant aroma of cinnamon, cardamom and clove would fill the entire room alongside their laughter. They were just some of the good things he held onto whilst at the Academy.       But the Academy days are no more, and Elias’s domineering presence has fizzled out through fire and ash. Alastair is free to do whatever he wants to do and be whoever he wants to be, and cooking is only a part of it.

continue reading on ao3

~

well well, it has been a long time, hasn't it??

but here i am, back for good hopefully!! and with a wee fic i wrote for my bestest girl @drunkonimagination for her birthday back in july ✨ it's based on one of our first interactions together before we hit the dms and the hill i will die on that is alastair carstairs is great at cooking but a terrible baker. only just got around it posting it jkahdjasd. hope you all enjoy it, and i'll be back with some more fics soon!!

also pls ignore the title, it's the best thing i could come up with :')

~

tagging people who might be interested: @edwinspaynes @purplebass @angeldaisies @faithfromanewperspective @tessherongraystairs @celias

let me know if you’d like to be added to or removed from the tag list!!

[queensilber]

Supernatural: Witch‘s Canyon

Posting everything in this book that i think you need to know, lets go!

Summary:

Okay, so, the boys head to the Grand Canyon to solve a case of a fourty-year murder cycle. The spirits of variouse humans and animals alike attack the locals and they need to find out why and how to stop it.

It is set somewhere in Season two.

My opinion:

This was so much fun. Like, it was really like watching an episode, just a lot longer and with the magic ability to see into Sam and Deans (and a bunch of other characters) heads.

It also gave a little bit of a fanfiction vibe, just with the addidtion that everything is cannon and that all the random little facts and quotes are a real thing (i‘ll list those in a second)

And also there were flashbacks of their childhood??? That made me cry??? I hated john winchester before, but now even more so. (More about the flashbacks below too)

So yea, it was definetly worth it and i cant wait to read the others!!

Songs:

This is the music Sam and Dean listened to during the course of the book (some locals listened to music too, but i did not list those)

- „paranoid“ by Black Sabbath

- „turn the page“ by Bob Seger

- unspecified tape by Bad Company

Flashbacks:

There are two flashbacks to Sam and Dean‘s Childhood:

- the first one is Dean Remembering a time when John made him and Sam run through an obstacle course at age twelve and eight. Dean had to shoot a gun during it, Sam just had to point and yell „Bang!“.

In the process of that Sam got injured and cried and John yelled at him to keep going and that he was doing poorly. Dean comforted his brother and encouraged him, leading to sam actually making it. Sam did it and Dean cheered, but john kept yelling at them to keep going to the next obstacle.

- the second one was from when Dean was fourteen and Sam was ten. Their Dad gave them backbags and said what was in them could last them fir four days and they all went on a hike together.

In the middle of nowhere john then saud that they should not trust anyone on what they are told and left them alone, telling them that they should find their way (at very least two days of walk) back themsleves and they shouldnt have relied on him so much and he just… left.

When they checked their backbags they found that most in it was useless and they were also filled with rocks to make it seem like it was more than it was.

Thats so fucked up, like

Those are children. And the worst part, when Dean rememvers this he thinks of it almost positively because it taught him a valuable lesson. I cant even begin to describe how my heart hurt for them.

Random facts:

Here are some facts from the book, i do t know anymor if those are mentioned in the show too, but it hardly matters, i think:

- Sam outgrew Dean at the age of 16

- Dean felt gutity over Jessicas death and thought that it was a „more solid basis“ of guilt than Sam had on the matter

- Sam can differentiate between uniforms of different wars in history just by a look

- Dean hates Rats. A lot.

Quotes:

Some quotes from the book:

John Winchester hunted monsters, ghosts, demons — the creatures most people only believed in deep down in their 3:00 am hearts, abd that they laughted off when the sun was bright and their spirits high.

It was a habit Dean had picked up from Dad — reffering to what they did as a „job“. To Sam it was nore of a Mission, even a calling.

„Sammy really likes cops,“ Dean said. „If he didnt have any talents he might have become one“

Sometimes he thought Dean wouldnt mind dying if he could go out in a blaze of glory, as the saying went. In moments of fairness, Sam knew that wasnt true. Dean didnt care about the glory; he cared about making a difference.

„I‘m coming around to the point, Sam.“ „He‘s Dean,“ Sam corrected. „I‘m Sam“. „Sorry, For some reason, you just look more like a Dean to me“

Gilmore Girls reference?

„You tried to shoot my brother“ Dean said.

Sam belived in a highter power, Dean didnt. Sam didnt have any special knowledge that Dean lacked, handt seen or heard or met God.

Lol, not yet.

Dean had been a kid, hadnt ever had a chance to become anything other than what Dad had made of him. That, finally, was the gulf between them — the canyon that could never be bridged.

Dean was an amazing guy, Sam knew, with skills and abilities most people would never imagine, and smarts Dean himself wouldnt credit, even though he relied on them all the time. And yet, at times like this, he was so humble, so unassuming, that he seemed almost unaware of the importance if his iwn contributions. At other times, of course, that humility vanished. Knowing and accepting both Deans, he guessed, was what being brothers was all about. Maybe I wouldnt want to be Dean, he thought, but i‘m sure glad I have him araound.

STOP MAKING MY CRY WTH

So anyways, that book sure was an experiance and i cant wait for the next one! I‘ll post a review of that as well and will update that post with a link to it one i‘m done!

Xoxo! <3

Next>

[cjkie22]

A non-exhaustive list of why you should listen to hit dirtbag boyband Bears in Trees:

their music is really amazing. you'll love it.

especially if your Spotify wrapped was on the pov: indie side of things

and even if it wasn't.

songs for every emotion

absolutely beautiful lyrics

sometimes these lyrics make sense. sometimes they don't. that's part of the fun.

songs about platonic love !!!!!

songs for the queers! the aros! the aces! the enbies! the trans community!

my dad likes them. doesn't sound like a lot, but it's an achievement.

(more underneath the break)

iain (bass/vox/lyrics) has "ginger" tattooed on the back of their head. if that isn't iconic I don't know what is.

on the note of iain, they were the first person i was aware of that used they as a pronoun, and that changed my life

they have a discord server! it's a really lovely community. i am not biased in the slightest. (discord.gg/sandbox) (https://discord.com/invite/thesandbox) (i will personally send you an invite i don't actually know what the link is)

they should DEFINITELY be on the heartstopper soundtrack

if I'm remembering correctly in the tiktok where they said they should be on the heartstopper soundtrack, they also said 3 out of 4 of them were in some way queer. seems like a good thing to me.

they opened for you me at six earlier this year. it was my first time seeing them live. and WOW.

I met some of my best friends through this band. I'm not joking; big shout out to the mojo dojo castle house, I'll never forget that weekend.

they're hilarious on the internet

you might cry at several of their songs for a million different reasons

BearBerry records

they have a tumblr blog @/bearsintreesofficial (iirc). I'm not gonna tag them but

BiT gigs are a safe space. I may have almost fainted at my last one (new cross inn, August 2023) but I've never met so many kind strangers and genuinely lovely people

merch is super comfy and really cute.

it gives stardew valley and animal crossing (trust me I'm right)

after the new cross gig (sweatiest gig in the world), despite surely being exhausted, callum (uke/keys/vox) took my bereal and i got my mini lesbian flag signed by them all

I turned out not to be a lesbian, which possibly makes it funnier, but the flag is stuck on my wall still

cryptids would LOVE their band

dash.

there's also a community minecraft server for discord members

BiT postcards !!!!

gosh and the bit stickers

they covered stick season on an Instagram live

they also do the funniest twitch streams

iain and the mountain

the raccoon email address

george (drums/production) is elite. the drum fills in doing this again? iconic. also has a specific really cool shirt I want to steal

wedding. dress. tiktok.

callum doesn't wear shoes on stage. apparently this was common knowledge but it sure surprised me at new cross.

the austrian soft drinks advert

iain make up looks

callum plays the flute. I want to say classically trained flautist but i may be wrong.

none of them have EVER bribed any members of law enforcement

their songs are very tattooable

talking of tattoos, nick (lyrics/guitar/saw him play the uke on stage once) has L + R tattooed on his forearms (iirc). absolute genius and I am stealing it when I get more of my patchwork sleeve done

iain releases solo music to under the name pet yeti. it's ethereal. callum also plays flute on one of them.

trumpet joe

the four of them never look like they are dressed for the same event

someone once edited the bears in trees wiki page to say that Ryan Ross was in their band

silly geese

that time we got singing? poetry? performance art? of THAT harry potter fanfiction

according to tiktok, iain and nick once had to sneak into their own show because they were underage

nurby

I have a video in the depths of my camera roll of them covering Mama by My Chemical Romance on a twitch stream

sonick

all of them give me gender envy at different times

their newest single (bart's bike) features banjo

patreon content

yelling it gets better with a room full of people was a healing experience.

tilly

modern baseball and fall out boy adjacent in my brain

if you like bears in trees you're automatically hot and really cool

they did a song with noahfinnce and its really super good

callum also featured on a myriad song which is also really super good

bit songs feel like coming home. they feel like hot chocolate and a blanket on a cold night. they feel like a warm hug. they feel like surviving and falling in love with life again and overcoming the worst things. they feel like victory, because you didn't think you'd make it to adulthood. but I'm 20 now. and I'm still here. I've almost graduated uni. and that's what bears in trees feels like.

all of their songs!!!! amazing!!!!

please feel free to add to this list. I'm taking suggestions.