#i really think this chapter is one of the best yet

[gojoluvs]

Forever yours.

⤿ Satoru Gojo × reader

Summary, The only reason why you even agreed to marry him was for your father. Now you wish you could go back in time and reject the offer.

Warning/ tags; angst, profanity, smoking, cursing, smut, cheating, mean gojo,

Genre; angst, cheating, infidelity, jik, Gojou × reader

Notes: the tag-list is open if you'd like to be mentioned everytime i update just send me a message also sorry any of the spelling errors.

9k words

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It had been a few months since then, going to your honeymoon on July, and now it was November with Thanksgiving just around the corner. The autumn leaves were turning shades of red, orange, and yellow, reminding you of the honeymoon you and your spouse had taken just a few months ago.

Despite the fact that you and Satoru had been married for quite some time now, your relationship seemed to be stuck in a rut. He continued to ignore you, never joining you for dinner or spending time with you in the large mansion you had moved into. It was as if nothing had changed between the two of you.

You couldn't help but feel anxious and nervous as you waited for the results. It had been a rollercoaster of emotions for the past few months, with Satoru's constant reminders and tracking of your ovulation and periods. Now, all you could do was wait for the pregnancy test to give you the answer you were desperately hoping for, or dreading.

The anxiety and fear of a potential pregnancy weighed heavily on your mind as you waited for the results. You couldn't help but think about how your life would change if the test turned out positive. Would you be ready for motherhood? Would Satoru be ready to become a father? You hated to admit it but deep down you were hoping for a negative result.

As you stared at the calendar, your eyes scanned over the days until they finally landed on one that stood out to you. "Most likely to get pregnant." The bright red letters seemed to jump off the page, catching your attention and bringing back vivid memories.

You remembered that day so clearly - coming home from a family party with Satoru, feeling hurt and insulted by his words and actions, yet still unable to resist him when he made love to you. It was a painful reminder of the complicated and toxic dynamic between the two of you.

Despite spending a significant amount of time with him, you couldn't help but feel like there was a lack of connection between the two of you. There were days when it seemed like he was just tolerating your presence, and on other days, he would completely ignore you. Your hands would often tremble in his presence, and you couldn't understand why. Perhaps it was the feeling of uncertainty and unease that he brought to the table, leaving you with an unsettling feeling whenever you were around him.

The thought of Satoru being the father of your child filled you with dread and anxiety. You couldn't help but feel sick to your stomach, unsure if it was from the potential pregnancy or the overwhelming emotions you were experiencing.

The idea of bringing a child into a world of parents who despised each other was overwhelming and you couldn't help but question if this was really the best option for you and your child.

There was one major secret you hadn’t told your husband. Most of the women in your family, including your mother, had suffered from fertility issues. Your mother had experienced three miscarriages, and it was a common occurrence for babies in your family to not make it past the first trimester of pregnancy.

The fear of not being able to have a child of your own consumed your every thought. You were too afraid to go for testing and receive a definitive answer. Your mind raced with all the possible outcomes and you couldn't sit still, pacing back and forth from your room.

The thumps of your sole foot could be heard, a physical manifestation of your anxiety. You were so anxious, you wanted to scream and rip out your hair in frustration.

Once, only once in your life you had actually went to go test your fertility. Once you had gotten the results back you were too afraid to look at them. At the time Toji was still your boyfriend, he had reassured you that he didn’t care if you were infertile or not because all he cared was that he had you.

So you did what most people would do, you threw the dumb envelope away and never thought about it since. But yet the thought came to mind now. How would satoru react about this?

Your mind wandered to the contract you had signed with him. It was a business marriage, a union of convenience. You had no love for each other, no emotional connection. The only thing you could provide for him was your body, your uterus, and the ability to bear his child.

You were nothing but a means to an end, a tool in his pursuit of success. You ran your fingers through your hair, feeling trapped and suffocated in this loveless arrangement. Suddenly, the loud sound of your alarm going off startled you out of your thoughts, reminding you of the reality you were living in.

Your hand trembled as you slowly walked towards your drawer, where the pregnancy test awaited. Your heart practically jumping out of your chest with each step. You hated to admit it, but you really did hope the test would come back negative.

The thought of being pregnant at this point in your life was terrifying. You reached for the test, your hand shaking as you turned it over to look at the result. For a moment, the whole world seemed to stop moving. It was like those dramatic scenes in a movie when a character finds out something life-changing.

You held your breath as you stared at the small window, waiting for the result to appear.

You let out a deep sigh of relief, your heart pounding in your chest as you stared at the negative test in your hand. The weight of anxiety and fear lifted off your shoulders, and for a brief moment, you felt a sense of pure joy and happiness.

You couldn't believe you had finally received the answer you had been hoping for. Suddenly, the urge to celebrate overwhelmed you, and you wanted nothing more than to jump up and down in excitement.

But as you were about to do so, your bedroom door flew open, and your tall, white-haired husband stormed in, his expensive Christian Louboutin shoes making a loud thumping noise on the hardwood floor. Immediately, your celebration came to an end as you braced yourself for whatever was about to come.

Your husband stood before you, unbuttoning the sleeves of his immaculate white dress shirt, his expression unreadable. You knew that something was wrong, and your moment of relief was quickly replaced with a sense of dread.

You felt a wave of panic wash over you as you hastily shoved the pregnancy test into one of your drawers. Turning around, you put on a smile and walked towards your husband, helping him out of his suit and hanging it neatly in your closet.

Your heart sank as you noticed the stained red lipstick on the neckline of his suit. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy as you remembered that Jiyuu was one of his representatives in his business. You forced a smile and asked, "How was work?" trying to hide your true emotions.

You pursed your lips, a hint of disappointment evident on your face. "It was good," he said, noticing your reaction as you hung the suit up.

You silently walked back towards the room, Satoru was shirtless, rummaging through his closet for a shirt to wear. You couldn't help but admire his toned physique and the way his muscles flexed as he searched for a shirt.

Your mind wandered, imagining what it would feel like to run your hands over his chest. You quickly shook the thought from your mind, reminding yourself that he care for you.

"That's nice," you said with a small smile, feeling a twinge of nervousness as you bit the inside of your cheek.

You knew you shouldn't be pushing his buttons, let alone asking about his lover, but you just couldn't take it anymore. The anxious nights of awaiting his arrival, only to have him come home late or not at all, were taking a toll on you.

There were days where you couldn't even sleep without him by your side, and the constant worry and doubt were consuming your thoughts.

Yet, you couldn't stop yourself from asking about his whereabouts and who he was with, hoping for some reassurance or closure. But each time, the conversation just ended in more frustration and heartache.

“Satoru?” You felt a pang of jealousy and anger as you watched Satoru dress himself, trying to hide the evidence of his infidelity. His back, strong and toned from his workouts, was a reminder of how attractive he was to other women.

You couldn't help but notice the hickies on his neck, the scent of Burberry her perfume lingering in the air, and the red lipstick stains on his collar. You were tired of pretending not to see these signs of his unfaithfulness, but you couldn't bring yourself to confront him about it.

You hated how he made you feel insecure and unworthy, but you couldn't seem to walk away from him either. The constant inner turmoil was draining and exhausting, but you were willing to endure it for a chance to be with him.

He hummed, turning to face you. You felt the anger bubbling up inside of you as you looked at him, his casual demeanor and nonchalant attitude driving you insane. “Are you still seeing Jiyuu?” Your fists clenched at your sides as you resisted the urge to lash out at him.

His nonchalant attitude towards your feelings only added fuel to the fire, making you want to punch him even more. You could feel the hurt and betrayal in your gaze as you looked at him.

With a defeated sigh, his words stung as he spoke, "There's no reason for me to lie anymore. Jiyuu, she's the woman I love. Not you." His tone was harsh and final as he turned and walked away, leaving you to process the heart-wrenching truth.

The realization that you were not the one he loved, despite all your efforts, was a hard pill to swallow.

You followed him, feeling a surge of anger and betrayal. You couldn't believe he was with her again. He always seemed to have an excuse, whether it was work or hanging out with friends, but you knew the truth.

Your gut told you that he was always with her, and the evidence was becoming harder to ignore. You couldn't understand why he would continue to lie and break your trust.

"Stop pretending you care, stop trying to love me Y/N. All you're going to do is make things worse," he said with a resigned sigh. You were taken aback by his words, feeling like you had been punched in the gut.

You wanted to break down and cry, but you knew it would only push him away further. You couldn't help but wonder how it would feel to be comforted by him, to have him hold you and tell you everything would be okay.

But deep down, you knew that would never happen.

"Please," he began, his voice filled with hesitation as he turned to walk away from you once again. The irony was not lost on you - it seemed that everyone in your life had a tendency to walk away from you. Whether it was a friend, a family member, or a romantic partner, it always ended the same way.

You hated the feeling of begging and appearing so desperate. It made you feel small and unworthy, especially when you had to plead with your own husband. "Please Satoru, we're married. Can't you spare some time for me?" you would say, hoping for a glimmer of attention or affection.

The man's long, veiny hand ran through his shock of white hair as he licked his lips, his face coming dangerously close to yours. You could feel his hot breath on your skin as he spoke. "Fine," he growled. "My friends are going to a cabin this weekend." The intensity of his gaze made you feel uneasy.

Your eyes glimmered, a cabin. You always wanted to go to a cabin, one with snow. “Just me and you?” He nodded before slamming the door.

Why?

Why did the world have to be so cruel to you?

As you walked along the coastline, you could feel a gentle caress on your skin as the warm sand touched your feet. The grainy texture of the sand added a dimension of realism that heightened your sensory experience. The sensation of moving through the fine-grained sand was both soothing and invigorating, evoking a sense of tranquility and connection with the natural world.

The sand beneath your feet had a texture that was both soft and coarse. It felt comfortable as it massaged the soles of your feet, but it also provided a sturdy base that supported you as you walked.

He stood there, his hair flowing gently in the wind. The gusty breeze rushed through his face, causing his eyes to flutter slightly.

"Toji?" you called out, your voice filled with a mixture of excitement and concern.

Toji's face lit up when he saw you, a smile spreading across his face. He took a few steps towards you, his eyes filled with warmth and affection.

"Hey," he said, his voice echoing in the silence of the open field.

You ran to him, throwing your hands behind his neck, holding him so tight you felt his heartbeat through his chest. The feeling of his warm embrace brought tears to your eyes as you realized how much you had missed him. In that moment, nothing else mattered except being in his arms and feeling his love.

what did you do to deserve this?

A shiver ran down your spine as his hand gently touched your cheek, his forehead pressed against yours. You couldn't help but get lost in his intense gaze, his dark blue eyes seeming to look into the depths of your soul.

It felt so real.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice full of emotion as he looked at you with such tenderness. His hands, rough from years of hard work, gently caressed your skin, making your heart swell with love for him. Tears formed in your eyes as you realized how much you wanted this life with him, full of love and happiness.

The thought of him moving on and finding someone else to share his life with was unbearable. It was as if a part of you was being ripped away. His touch, his kiss, his presence - it all felt like home to you.

You couldn't imagine anyone else taking your place by his side. You wanted to be the one to spend forever with him, to grow old together and experience all of life's ups and downs by his side. The thought of someone else filling that role was too painful to even consider. You couldn't let him go. He was your soulmate, your other half.

Tears fell down, knowing that one day you would never find someone who loved and cherished you as much as you loved and cherished him.

"You have to let me go Y/N." He pulled away from you. There it was that stupid geniune smile he always gave you. You broke down sobbing on his chest as he held you.

Why did your brain have to do this to you?

He cupped your face in his hands, wiping away your tears with his thumbs. "I promise you, I'll always love you." You shook your head, unable to accept his words

"I don't want to lose you," you cried. "I can't imagine my life without you." He gently wiped away your tears, his expression filled with sadness.

"I know, but it's for the best," he said softly. You didn't want to let him go, but you knew deep down that he was right. You hugged him tighter, trying to hold onto the moment for as long as you could.

"Toji, before I go," You said the sunset casting a golden light on his perfect face. You couldn't help but admire him, even in this bittersweet moment.

"Why couldn't you just stop the wedding?" Your voice cracked as you asked the question, tears welling up in your eyes. "Why didn't you just run away with me?" You couldn't understand why he didn't choose you, why he couldn't see that you were meant to be together.

Your heart ached at the thought of being Satoru's wife instead of his, but you couldn't bring yourself to say it out loud. The pain was too much to bear.

With a heavy heart, he looked at you with a bittersweet smile, gently tucking a stray hair behind your ear. "Y/N, I knew I couldn't stop the wedding because deep down, I know I'll never be able to provide for you as well as he can."

He continued to look at you with a mixture of sadness and love, knowing that he had to let you go. "But I promise to always be there for you, no matter what. You deserve all the happiness in the world and I hope he can give that to you." With one last gentle touch, he turned and walked away, leaving you to contemplate his bittersweet words.

You stood there, his touch still lingering on your skin. The memories of your time together flooded back, each one stinging like a fresh wound. As you watched him walk away, you couldn't help but feel a sense of loss and regret. You whispered, "We almost had it all," knowing that things could have been different if only you had made different choices. But now, as he disappeared from your sight, you knew it was too late.

You were so in love with Toji, and it wasn't just because he was there to heal your heart after the previous relationship left it shattered. It was because he was your true love, the one who knew you better than anyone else. Every morning, he would hold you tightly, cherishing the sight of your bare face and your plump lips.

Even with morning breath, he didn't care because being with you was all that mattered to him. He would always be there to hold you, to kiss you tenderly, and to remind you of just how much you mean to him. Every moment with him felt like a dream come true, and you couldn't imagine your life without him.

However, things quickly changed when you met your now current husband. The arranged marriage ruined everything for you and Toji, destroying the perfect life you had imagined since you first started dating. The apartment, the cat, and the financial stability were all gone, along with the hope of a future together. Now, you are left with a broken heart and shattered dreams..

As you stood frozen on the beach, you could feel your heart shatter into a million pieces. You wanted to scream his name, to beg him to stay, but your voice was lost in the overwhelming pain and shock. With a loud thump, your knees hit the sand, the impact almost jolting you out of your trance.

Your hands instinctively gripped the fabric of your skirt, as if trying to cling onto some sense of stability. And as the tears fell from your eyes, you could feel the weight of your heartache slowly drip down your face.

You awoke, tears streaming down your face. You stared at the laces of your boots. The sound of the wind blowing waking you up. The trip to the cabin was at least 4 hours.

The pounding headache that had not been present when you woke up this morning was now throbbing behind your eyes, making it difficult to focus on anything else.

You were dressed to impress, wearing black flared pants that accentuated your legs, paired with your favorite Chanel boots that added a touch of luxury to your outfit. Your tight red turtle neck hugged your figure perfectly, highlighting your curves in all the right places.

Satoru, on the other hand, opted for a more comfortable yet classy look. He wore a cozy sweater, with a long white t-shirt peeking out underneath. His blue Dickies pants were held up by a stylish Gucci belt.

Your muscles ached from sitting in the same position for hours on end. As you shifted in your seat, you could feel the soreness spreading through your body, making it hard to focus on anything else. Satoru’s black Tucker jacket was stretched on your thighs. Nervously you began to play with the collar.

You wanted to get up and stretch, but the stern expression on Satoru's face made you think twice. You could tell he was deep in thought and didn't want to be disturbed, so you pursed your lips and remained silent.

You couldn't help but imagine what it would be like if things were different. In another universe, perhaps you and Satoru could have a great relationship. Maybe you could even be more than just friends. You couldn't deny the fact that Satoru was incredibly attractive, with his charm and poise only adding to his perfection.

You checked your phone, clicking on the small button for it to turn on. Great, no service. You threw it back inside your purse before looking out the window. The snow continuously falling down as you made your way to your cabin.

Maybe in another life, he had met his true love and they lived a happy life together. Perhaps you both could have had fulfilling relationships with your own partners, instead of being stuck in an unhappy marriage.

As you caught sight of the cabin nestled in the woods, you felt a wave of relief wash over you. Multiple cars, all of them expensive models, were parked in the front, giving you a sense of security.

You sat up straighter in your seat, mentally preparing yourself for the meeting ahead, and gathered all your belongings as Satoru expertly parked the car next to a sleek and luxurious Rolls-Royce.

As you stepped out of the car, the cold air nipped at your exposed skin. You shivered and pulled your coat tighter around you, grateful for the warmth it provided.

Satoru, noticing your discomfort, immediately came over to you and took his jacket from your hands, gently putting it on. You smiled gratefully at him as he wrapped his arm around your waist, leading you towards your destination.

As Satoru closed the car door, he reached for your hand, intertwining his long fingers with yours. You felt a sense of security and warmth flood through you as you admired the beauty of the cabin. The snow falling gently around the roof added to the picturesque scene, making it even more enchanting.

"Satoru!" You instantly recognized the voice of the woman. Her long, brown hair swayed as she made her way towards the two of you, a bright smile on her face.

The woman embraced Satoru, pulling him close in a warm hug. As she stepped back, you recognized her as the lady from the party in Santorini. "I'm so glad you could make it," she said with a smile, gesturing for you both to come inside.

"It's freezing out here." You could see her breath in the cold winter air, her words serving as a reminder of the chilly weather outside.

The only thing different about her was the baby bump she was missing. Satoru, with his long and lean figure, walked alongside you as you made your way towards the entrance. His height was quite impressive, making you feel small in comparison. As Shoko beckoned you to join her inside, you eagerly followed, not wanting to waste any time.

As you entered the warm, bustling room, you took a moment to take in the scene. The majority of the guests from the party were already here, chatting and laughing with each other.

You quickly removed your boots, shaking off the snow and placed them by the door. Your feet were cold, so you grabbed your trusty pair of uggs and slipped them on, feeling the warmth and comfort immediately.

As you and Satoru walked inside, you couldn't help but notice the stares of everyone around you. Many of them were his friends, who you had met during your time together. One of them, feeling sympathetic, offered to take your luggage to your room for you.

You gratefully handed it over, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. It was a small gesture, but it meant a lot to you in that moment. You gave him a smile and a word of thanks before turning back to Satoru.

You found yourself comfortably seated on the plush couch. Everyone seemed to be engaged in conversations, their voices blending together in a pleasant symphony. From the couch, you had a clear view of the room, filled with warm lighting and cozy furnishings.

"So Shoko, where exactly is the baby?" Satoru inquired, removing his jacket and draping it over your lap. As he did so, you couldn't help but notice his veiny hands, a common feature of his. He placed his hand on your thigh, the veins popping out even more prominently.

"Hes sleeping but once hes awake your one of the first people he’ll meet," she said with a smile. She got up from the couch and walked towards the kitchen.

Satoru felt a sudden jolt as a hand was placed on his shoulder, causing him to snap his neck in surprise to see who it was. His eyes widened as he recognized the person standing behind him - Geto.

His friend “Getou” was tall, towering over most people he encountered. His long black hair was usually tied back in a ponytail, but today it hung loosely around his face. He was dressed in all black, a black sweatshirt and matching black pants that seemed to be a staple in his wardrobe.

However, his appearance was overshadowed by the noticeable dark circles under his eyes, hinting at the fact that he was having trouble sleeping. He looked tired and worn out, as if he had been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Feeling a sense of loneliness, you watched as Satoru quickly got up and left, seemingly forgetting about your existence. As you sat alone, people stopped by to ask about your well-being and how your marriage was going, but it was something you had grown accustomed to.

The constant inquiries and reminders of your failed marriage only added to the feeling of isolation and heartache.

"Y/N!" Surprisingly, you instantly recognized that voice as your college friend. Your heart warmed as you turned to face her, a huge smile spreading across your face. It had been years since you last saw each other, but it felt like no time had passed at all.

As you saw your old friend, "Utahime?", you couldn't help but break into a wide smile. Your cheeks began to hurt from the sheer joy and excitement of seeing her again after so long. You practically jumped into her arms, hugging her tightly.

The familiar scent of her Coco Chanel perfume filled your nostrils, bringing back a flood of memories from your college days together.

"It's been so long!" she exclaimed, her voice full of genuine surprise and delight. She quickly pulled you into a tight embrace, her hands gripping the sides of your arms. "What brings you here?" she asked with a smile.

"I'm actually married now," you replied, a mixture of happiness and nervousness bubbling inside of you.

Her eyes lit up with that familiar look she always gave you, a look that made you feel seen and loved. It was as if no time had passed between the two of you, and you couldn't help but feel grateful to have her in your life.

"It's amazing how life can surprise us," she said as she motioned for you to join her outside. You sat down on the chairs, huddled together by the warm fire. Looking at the stars, she continued, "Out of all the people I met in college, I never would have guessed that you would be the one to settle down so early. You were always the adventurous type, ready to take on the world."

She smiled at you, "But I guess love has a way of changing us, doesn't it?" You smiled back, grateful for her understanding and support. As the fire crackled and the night grew darker, you shared stories and laughs. grateful for the unexpected turn your life had taken.

You talked for what seemed like hours on end, catching up with her felt like a fairytale. She shared all the exciting details of her life over the past few years, including graduating college and finding her dream job.

"So here I am, personally, as a Gynecologist," Utahime said, looking at shoko, who was gently rocking her baby back and forth, who looked up at you with interest.

"And Shoko here is an endocrinologist," she continued, gesturing towards her. “We both have specialized medical knowledge, but in different areas of expertise.”

Shoko got up from her seat and decided to sit next to you and Utahime. "Is that so? I'm so glad everything turned out to be good for you," you said, smiling warmly at Utahime. As you looked at her, you noticed a shift in her facial features. Her previously tense and worried expression had transformed into one of relief and contentment.

As you saw her for the first time in years, you couldn't help but notice the changes in her appearance. Her face had matured, no longer the round and soft baby face you remembered. Instead, she now had a more stern and defined structure, giving her a sense of authority and experience.

Despite the visible scar on her face, she seemed to radiate a glow that only added to her beauty.

The woman spoke softly, her voice filled with genuine concern. "I know how much you and Satoru have been wanting to have a baby," she said, leaning in closer. "As a gynecologist, I have some tips and advice that could help you both. And if you ever need any check-ups or consultations, you are more than welcome to come to my office." Her warm smile and the flickering light from the fire highlighted the purple strands in her hair, making her seem almost ethereal.

"Well, that's the thing," you said, looking at Shoko. "You're an endocrinologist, right?” Shoko nodded, her focus shifting to wrapping her newborn baby in a warmer blanket.

You were nervous and hesitant to ask, but you needed to know. "They're the ones who specialize in hormones," you said, your voice shaky. "Do you also specialize in infertility?" You raised an eyebrow, trying to gauge their reaction.

Utahime and Shoko exchanged a concerned look before turning back to you. Their expressions were serious as they nodded their heads in confirmation. You let out a sigh of relief, grateful that you had found doctors who could help you with your fertility struggles.

"Yes, why? Are you having trouble getting pregnant?" she asked, tilting her head in concern. The fire crackled loudly, each second passing by filled with tension and worry.

"My family has a history of hormone imbalances and fertility problems, and I wanted to get tested to see if I may have inherited these issues. Plus, it would be reassuring to get tested by someone I know and trust," you explained to your friend.

As you spoke, her expression softened and she absentmindedly played with her baby's chubby hands while listening. Her support and understanding made you feel more at ease about the situation.

“Absolutely, you know what. I’ll send Satoru my info-“ you quickly interrupted her.

"No no no," you pleaded, "he cannot know about this. Please." You looked away from her piercing stare, feeling ashamed and afraid that she might go and tell your husband. The secret you were keeping was eating away at you, and the thought of your husband finding out was unbearable.

“Of course, you’re my friend after all. Here,” She grabbed her purse.

"Can you hold him for just a moment?" She asked, handing you her baby. You couldn't resist the urge to reach out and take the little bundle into your arms. He immediately stared at you, his dark brown eyes searching your face curiously.

You couldn't help but smile at the adorable little face looking up at you. "He's so cute," you commented, and the mother beamed with pride. "Thank you, I'm glad you think so. He seems to like you," she replied, noticing how her baby was now reaching out towards you.

You couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and connection with the little one in your arms, even though you had just met. It was a small moment, but it brought a smile to your face and warmed your heart.

As the baby's chubby hands grasped onto your finger and their big eyes looked up at you in innocent wonder, you couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and joy.

You found yourself gently playing with the baby, making silly faces and noises that made them giggle and coo. In that moment, all your worries and troubles seemed to fade away, replaced by the pure happiness of being in the presence of a child.

As you held the baby in your arms, you couldn't help but think about the possibility of being infertile. The thought of not being able to have a child of your own was heartbreaking. However, in this moment, with the chubby-cheeked baby in your arms, all those worries faded away.

You brought the baby closer, feeling his soft breaths against your skin. As he began playing with your hair, you couldn't help but admire him. He was a spitting image of Shoko, with her almond-shaped eyes and button nose, but he also had features that definitely resembled Geto, like his pale skin and black hair.

“Here you go,” As you thanked the kind woman, she handed you a small card with the name and address of her clinic. You quickly stuffed it into your pants pocket, grateful for the potential help it may offer in the future.

"You know," she said with a playful grin, "if you like him so much you can keep him." She joked, giggling at the face you made. You couldn't help but laugh along with her, knowing she was just teasing you.

"I think I'll pass," you replied, still smiling. "I'd rather just borrow him every once in a while." She rolled her eyes, but her smile never faltered.

The glass door slid open, revealing Satoru and Geto standing on the other side with bottles of beer in their hands. As soon as your husband laid eyes on you and the baby in your arms, his gaze immediately turned to you with a mixture of surprise and concern.

"I'm just kidding Y/N," Shoko said with a laugh, getting up from her seat as the baby started to cry. "Well, that's my cue to give him to his father." She walked over to Satoru and Geto, who were deep in conversation and cracking jokes.

You couldn't help but smile as you heard Satoru's deep and attractive laugh, something you didn't get to hear often. "Looks like I'll have to leave the baby duties to you two," Shoko teased, handing the baby over to Satoru. "But seriously, thank you both for all your help." Satoru and Geto both nodded, Satoru’s face softening as he held the baby in his arms.

"My back is killing me," Shoko groaned, raising her arms above her head as she walked back towards you and Utahime. "I need to relax my muscles," she added, letting out a loud yawn.

"There's a Jacuzzi, you know..." Utahime said with a sly grin, standing up and flipping on the back lights. The entire back area was aluminized, giving it a sleek and futuristic look.

"Wow, this is amazing!" exclaimed Shoko stepping closer to get a better look at the Jacuzzi.

"Right? It's perfect for those cold winter nights," Utahime replied with a playful wink.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment as you looked at the huge jacuzzi on the back deck of the vacation rental.

The bubbles were constantly popping and rising to the surface, making it look so inviting. However, you realized that you had forgotten to pack a bathing suit, and there was nothing remotely close to one in your luggage.

You cursed yourself for not double-checking your packing list and felt frustrated that you wouldn't be able to enjoy the relaxing hot tub.

"Well, I'm going up to get my bathing suit because I definitely need to relax in the jacuzzi," shoko said with a frown.

You politely said your goodbyes and slipped away unnoticed into the cabin. As you entered, the cozy atmosphere of the rustic cabin embraced you, providing a welcome respite from the chilly evening air.

The soft glow of the fireplace and the gentle sound of crackling wood immediately put you at ease. You couldn't help but notice the other guests lost in their own thoughts, some reading by the fire, others playing board games at the kitchen table.

Exhaustion finally caught up to you and you let out a tired yawn, rubbing your eyes as you made your way to your room. The warm and comfortable bed awaited you, promising a peaceful night's rest.

The door opened with a small creek, the wodden floor echoing each step you took. You practically stripped yourself off your clothes. Grabbing one of your cozy night gowns you smoothly slid it on.

As you entered the room, the old wooden door creaked open, the sound echoing through the quiet space. The familiar scent of the room enveloped you, bringing a sense of comfort and relaxation.

With each step, the wooden floorboards groaned under your weight. Finally reaching your closet, you couldn't wait to change into something more comfortable. As you stripped off your clothes, you felt the tension of the day slowly dissipate.

Your hand reached for your favorite night gown, the soft fabric sliding smoothly over your skin as you slipped it on, instantly feeling at ease in your own home.

As you settled into the plush queen bed, you couldn't help but notice how dim the room was with the lights off. It was the perfect ambiance for a good night's sleep, and you were grateful for the extra blankets you packed.

The hotel's blankets were thin and barely provided any warmth, but luckily you came prepared. You closed your eyes and let the softness of the bed and the coziness of the blankets lull you into a peaceful slumber.

Satoru didn’t know if it was the alcohol in his system that made him do this or the fact that he genuinely wanted you.

Before getting drunk, he spent the whole night with Getous baby, rocking and playing with him. As he watched you hold the child, he couldn't help but feel a strange flutter in his stomach. Maybe it was the way your hair fell into place, or the pure joy he saw in your face as you interacted with the baby. He couldn't explain this feeling, but it was undeniable. It was in that moment that he realized he was falling for you, and it scared him.

Despite his dislike for alcohol, he found himself in an inebriated state, stumbling up the stairs to your room. He was usually a responsible and controlled individual, but today was different. He was grateful that his phone had little to no service, freeing him from the constant barrage of messages from Jiyuu.

He felt a sense of relief and freedom from her constant demands for his time and attention. However, deep down, he knew that this temporary escape would only lead to more problems in the long run.

He finally made it to the room, carefully navigating his way in the dark. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he stumbled on nothing but air, making sure not to trip over any obstacles in his path. Once he reached his destination, he quickly took off his shoes and closed the restroom door behind him. As he fumbled for the light switch, he could feel the familiar sting of bright light hitting his eyes. He took a moment to recompose his vision before continuing what he was doing.

As he stood in front of the bathroom sink, he turned on the cold water, the sound of it filling the room. He ran his fingers through the water, feeling its coolness against his skin. Taking a deep breath, he momentarily splashed his face with the water, feeling its refreshing touch. He then leaned in closer to the mirror, studying his reflection and the emotions that played across his face.

"Well fuck, I look like shit," he muttered to himself as he caught a glimpse of his tired reflection in the mirror. He had barely gotten any sleep nowadays, the bags under his eyes a testament to his hectic schedule.

Spending most of his nights either working his ass off or going over to Jiyuu's house and well, fucking her brains out. He couldn't deny that the physical release helped him relax and forget about his stress for a little while, but it was taking a toll on his appearance and overall well-being.

Thats all that seemed to happen in his life. Jiyuu would call him late at night for her needs, never once asking him how he was doing. Everything was rough with her, the sex was always aggressive and the kisses were forceful.

Even their relationship was characterized by constant arguments and tension. Every time he tried to talk to her about his feelings, she would brush him off and turn the conversation back to herself. It was clear that she only cared about her own needs and desires, leaving him feeling used and unfulfilled.

He couldn't believe it. As he walked into the bathroom, he saw his toothbrush already in the cup next to the sink. A wave of annoyance washed over him. "Of course," he scoffed, "the perfect little wife you were had to also pack the miserable husband things." But as he thought about it more, he realized that this small act was just another reminder of how much his wife cared for him.

You always made sure he had everything he needed, even if it was just a toothbrush.

As he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, he couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt wash over him. He knew he had treated you poorly, but in his mind, you were the reason for his strained relationship with Jiyuu. He loved her deeply, and the thought of losing her was unbearable.

Without another thought, he turned off the lights and closed the bathroom door, not caring about the freezing temperatures outside. Stripping off his shirt, he couldn't shake off the feeling that he had made a mistake, but he was too stubborn to admit it.

As he gazed at you, the soft glow of the moon enhanced your features, making your skin look radiant and your hair appear to shimmer. The gentle rise and fall of your chest as you breathed added to your allure, making him wonder how someone could look so effortlessly beautiful even in sleep.

He couldn't help but feel a pull towards you, admiring the peaceful expression on your face and the way your body seemed to fit perfectly into the bed. It was almost as if you were made for this moment, and he couldn't resist the urge to reach out and touch you, feeling the warmth of your skin and the gentle rise and fall of your chest beneath his fingertips.

Despite the late hour, he couldn't tear his eyes away from you, captivated by the tranquil and alluring image you presented.

The moonlight cascaded over your exposed shoulders and collarbone, highlighting the curves and contours of your body. The strap of your nightgown had slipped off one shoulder, revealing more of your smooth, glowing skin. As he climbed into bed with you, he couldn't help but feel a rush of desire and anticipation. You eagerly wrapped your arms around Satoru, pulling him closer as the warmth of his body enveloped you.

He didn’t know why but here he was rock hard at just staring at your face.

He couldnt resist it anymore, slowly he placed his hand on top of your ass messaging the soft muscle.

Maybe it was the alcohol that made him want to fuck you so bad right now, or it was finally him excepting the fact that you were undeniably beautiful.

However, in this moment, his desire for you was too strong. He couldn't resist the temptation any longer. As he gently shook you, he knew he shouldn't be doing this, but he couldn't help himself. Satoru was usually calm and collected, never crossing boundaries with women.

Despite his loyalty to Jiyuu, he had been intimate with other partners in the past. But right now, none of that mattered. All he wanted was you.

Yeah they were attractive and good at sex but yet he never found himself waking them up just to put his cock inside of them.

“mmm,” you opened your eyes, your lips pinker than ever. In this moment Satoru couldn’t sworn that look alone made him cum.

"Shit, can I fuck you?" You were startled to say the least, but a part of you couldn't deny that you wanted this. Raising an eyebrow, you couldn't even form a coherent response before you felt Satoru's lips hungrily press against yours. His hands tangled in your hair as he deepened the kiss, sending shivers down your spine.

You couldn't help but moan in response, your body betraying your initial shock. Satoru pulled away, a smirk on his lips as he whispered, "I'll take that as a yes." And in that moment, you could practically feel your knees buckle.

Satoru guided his hands across your body, exploring every inch and leaving a trail of tingling sensations in their wake. As he pulled you into another heated kiss, his lips moved with a fiery passion against yours. His hands trailed down to your lower back, giving a gentle squeeze that sent shivers down your spine.

You couldn't help but moan as he deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring every corner of your mouth. His touch was electric, igniting a fire within you that you couldn't resist.

You could feel your panties getting more wet by the second. His strong hands gripping your body.

"Satoru," you gasped as he continued to trail kisses down your neck, his hands roaming over your body.

"I can't get enough of you," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. "I want more," he growled, his lips finding yours again as he deepened the kiss.

"Me too," you moaned, your hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer. The two of you were lost in the heat of the moment, unable to resist each other any longer.

As his long fingers trailed down your body, they eventually made their way to your panties. You could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter with each passing second, the anticipation of what was to come sending shivers down your spine.

He couldn't help but smirk as he saw just how drenched your panties were, a clear indication of how much you wanted him. Without hesitation, he moved the side of your panties and began to circle his thumb around your clit, sending jolts of pleasure through your body.

You couldn't help but arch your back as his cold thumb made contact with your sensitive folds, the sensation only adding to the intense arousal you were feeling.

"You're so wet for me,"Satoru murmured, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he slid two fingers inside of you. Your pussy clenched around them, pleasure coursing through your body.

"Shit Toru.." you moaned, unable to contain yourself as his fingers expertly hit all the right spots. "You have to be quiet," he reminded you, his deep husky voice sending shivers down your spine. His lips found yours, silencing any further noises as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you.

The intensity of his touch and the forbidden nature of the situation only added to your arousal.

Satoru couldn’t deny his attraction towards you, the way you squeezed your eye shut when you were about to cum or the way your eyebrows creased each time he fucked you harder.

"You think I didn't notice you with the baby?" You opened your eyes, struggling to make eye contact with your husband as he continued to finger you.

He pulled his obnoxiously long fingers out of your drenching wet cunt and gave you a wicked smile. "Since you want to pretend to be a mommy so bad, I'll make you one." He unbuckled his pants, his hard cock practically twitching with excitement as he stared down at your pussy.

You couldn't help but feel a little nervous as he positioned himself between your legs. He rubbed his hard long cock on your entrance, biting your lip you moaned as he slowly began to enter you.

"God, you feel so good," he grunted, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "You're gonna be such a hot mommy," he whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine

He began to fuck you, the sound of the bed squeaking and your skin slapping together filled the room. His toned abs flexed every time he entered you, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. You felt like you were on cloud 9, completely lost in the moment.

His strong hands gripped your waist tightly, his fingers digging into your skin as he thrust into you with a powerful force. Each time his cock filled you, it made you go crazy with ecstasy. You couldn't help but moan and whimper in pleasure as he took you with such intensity.

His dick twitched inside of your pussy, your walls clenching each time he slid in and out of you. "You're so big, Toru," you moaned, your eyes brimming with tears of pleasure. He was so huge, and you loved every inch of him.

His white hair was stuck to his sweaty forehead as he continued to fuck you, his body glistening with sweat. Suddenly, he grabbed one of your legs and swung it over his shoulder, changing the angle and hitting a spot inside of you that made you see stars.

He groaned, making eye contact with you and admiring how beautiful you looked taking in his huge dick. You could feel his cock twitching inside of you, signaling that he was getting close to his release.

"Mmm, babe….your tits are getting so…big," Satoru groaned as he squeezed and massaged your breasts, sending shivers of pleasure through your body. You moaned in response, your hands running through his hair as he trailed wet kisses down your neck.

"I can't wait to see how big they'll get when you're pregnant," he whispered, his hot breath tickling your skin. You arched your back, pressing your body closer to his as he continued to thrust into you with increasing fervor.

"Fuck, Mmm…Satoru," you gasped, the pleasure building inside you.

He chuckled darkly, his hand slipping down to your abdomen. "Just imagine how sexy you'll look with my baby growing inside you," he said, his voice low and husky with desire.

You whimpered as he hit a particularly sensitive spot, your body trembling with pleasure. "Please, Satoru, I need you to cum in me" you begged, your nails digging into his back.

He gave a feral growl in response, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he neared his release. "You're mine, baby," he grunted, his eyes locked on yours. "And I'm gonna make you a mommy." With one final, powerful thrust, he spilled inside you, sending you both over the edge into blissful ecstasy.

His hot semen filled your pussy, your legs twitching before he got off you and layed next to you.

Despite the numerous times you and your husband have had sex, this particular time felt different.

For the first time, there was a real sense of intimacy and connection between the two of you.

ps: had to cut this chapter short but i ended up changing the angsty part for chap 5, gotta give my girl y/n a break for whats about to come…

taglist; @allofffmypeaches @shycreatorsandwich @ryumurin @cloudsinthecosmos @4-everm-0-re @kurookinnie @bluebreadenthusiast @haurno @fouyumixuri @numblytemporary @spin-garden @oyaoya-bungeegum @we-loveebony @katteddie86 @mine-lu @rosso-seta @sunehry @lavender-hvze @kneesheee @chilichopsticks @muchlov3ashley @mystarlightswiftt @actualdeemon @hojoslutoru @polarbvnny @getoicious @bennysbunnies @attaziante @ioveartfilm

[disneyprincemuke]

too young to know it gets better * fem!driver

there has to be someone out there that can snap her out of it, right?

pairings: oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver

notes: HI AFTER THIS THERE's one left and i promise that's not AS angsty as this one and i'm thinking of adding one or two more bonus chapters?? lolsie but idk we'll see!

(series masterlist) | (📂 2025: fall from grace)

(prev)

rockster has disconnected.

that’s the notification that had brought logan and oscar together some random afternoon. they stand in the confinements of the elevator in silence, not a single word uttered since they’d met one another in the lobby after sending a simple text out.

but they know what they’re here for.

logan hadn’t moved that fast in concern for her, dating back 3 years ago when mick had supposedly texted him about marrying his crush in vegas. he had sprinted 2 blocks from his apartment building to hers in the span of a couple of minutes.

and oscar had been running errands with lily prior to getting the notification. when she’d noticed her boyfriend staring down at his phone with distress all over his face, she’d immediately pushed him towards the exits to attend to the girl. she’s also a close friend, so she notices.

if you asked oscar, he’s been worried for months. but with her tendency to keep rejecting his initiation for small talk, it’s difficult to try and find the words to try and pry a confession out of her. but this disconnection from an application they’ve had for years raises red flags that they didn’t even know were possible.

“we’re not overreacting, right?” oscar mutters as they step out of the elevator at her floor.

logan nods, lips pressed into a thin line as he counts the steps he takes down the familiar hallway. “she dropped kidnapper off at my apartment like a week and a half ago. i haven’t heard from her since.”

oscar turns to him. “you’ve heard from her?”

“barely,” logan grimaces with a shake of his head, eyes trained on the hallway. “i invited her in for snacks but she declined and left immediately.”

“i haven’t seen or heard from her since the summer break began.”

“she hasn’t been picking up my calls either.” he turns to oscar. “that’s weird, right?”

logan almost wants to laugh at their conversation. if he didn’t consider that their best friend was the person at stake, he would have laughed the loudest he’s ever. they simply sounded like they were answering one another for copium in hopes that their best friend hasn’t lost her mind just yet.

when he unlocks the door to her apartment, they’re taken aback by the sight they’re immediately greeted with. and for logan, it’s whiplash — he’s only ever had fond memories of this apartment. to find it absolutely thrashed almost breaks his heart a little bit.

in his mind, he can hear the girl always scolding him for being messy when they were living together.

the curtains, typically letting the sun seep into the room, are drawn in to block the light out. the floor is littered with her things and there’s a chair toppled over on the ground. a picture frame on the entertainment system beneath the tv is faced down against the counter and if logan can recall perfectly, it’s their picture from when they were kids.

“what happened in here?” oscar mutters, stepping around the items of stray pieces of clothing on the ground. “should we call someone? do you think someone broke into her apartment?”

“let me call her and see if she’s alright,” logan sighs, fishing for his phone in his back pocket.

he hadn’t expected the situation to be so concerning. have they really let her run rampant on her own all this time?

he dials her number, just about to press the call button when a lock clicks and a door opens.

the girl, albeit slightly unrecognisable at first, steps out of her bedroom. she’s still in her pyjamas, cheeks wet and eyes puffy with her hair in a messy ponytail talling apart on her shoulder.

“who- rocky?”

she flinches back at the voice, catching her off-guard. she sighs tiredly as she pushes her hair out of her face, wiping her cheeks dry on the sleeve of her pyjamas. “what are you guys doing here”

“what are we- when did you get back?” logan tilts his head in confusion. he gestures towards the mess around them, “and what happened? have you been crying?”

she sighs again, eyes fluttering as she turns to look away from them. “you guys should really go. it’s not a good time right now,” she says softly, gesturing them towards the front door of her apartment.

“we can stay and help you clean everything up,” oscar mutters, mirror logan’s stare at the ground, “we’re just curious. you don’t typically let your apartment get this messy.”

“mate,” another sigh comes with her pinching the bridge of her nose, “it’s really not a good time right now.”

oscar’s head snaps up. “are you avoiding us?”

she stares at him tiredly. “what? no, it’s just-”

“you are, aren’t you?” oscar cuts her off, feeling an overwhelming wave of frustration takes over him. months of what feels like a one-sided friendship finally catches up to him.

every single rejection of plans reminds him how neglected their friendship has been, every time she’s ‘forgotten’ to look for an ice cream parlour makes his blood boil. it is such a one-sided friendship as of late and it feels like she’s no longer honouring the years of friendship they have.

“but why? did we do something? did we say something to upset you?”

she slouches her shoulders. she takes a deep breath to recompose herself. “please just go,” she croaks out, feeling a knot in her throat at the realisation of where this entire conversation might be heading. “not now.”

“but what is it? is it us?” oscar frowns. “at least tell us before you start ignoring us.”

she clenches her jaw as her patience runs thin. and she tries to hold on to the last string of patience she has. all these past months, she’s tried her damnest not to be this way to anyone that’s involved in racing.

just to save some face, to show that she’s not completely lost her mind. apart from the fact that they’re all practically colleagues, they’re also her friends.

but as oscar continues to edge her on for an explanation for her behaviour, it’s increasingly getting more difficult to keep her outbust at bay.

“rocky,” oscar calls out to grab her attention. “what is it? i’m so tired of you beating around the bush; if we did something to upset you, speak up. it’s not fair — what you’re doing. you’re cancelling plans, you’re bailing, you’re leaving us hanging… we’ve known each other half of our lives. you can’t just do this.”

logan shifts uncomfortable where he stands. “do you hate us?”

she tries to stop herself, really. but she should be allowed one outburst in her life.

“yes, yes, i actually do!” she admits, venom lacing her words as she starts to explain herself. “it sucks. i’m so fucking jealous of all of you right now. i’ve tried to feel happy for you guys but honestly?” a dry laugh passes her lips, tears falling out of her eyes. “i resent all of the success you’ve found this year.

because you’re doing great and i’m not. it’s annoying because i should be doing great too. because between every single one of us, no one’s worked as hard as i have to get to where i am today. you’re my best friends but i can’t get myself to be happy for you and i hate myself even more for it.”

oscar blinks blankly at her. her chest heaves as she finishes speaking, fists clenched by her side as she starts to cry a little harder.

she’s swallowed down every single drop of resentment she feels towards her friends, all doing well while she’d sunk deeper into the trenches of her own demise.

speaking ill of them that one time they achieved a podium without her haunted her for weeks on end. she couldn’t get herself to speak to them like she hadn’t spent 20 minutes speaking behind their backs about how much she hates that they’re on podiums without her.

“it was easier to avoid you than say things i can’t say.”

it was truly one of the last times she spend with them; the guilt of speaking on them ate her up. she’s apologise out of the blue and they’d have no idea what she was talking about.

admitting it now feels like their friendship would truly never be the same. like this is the one fight that’s been waiting to happen after their years of friendship and would lead to her eventual loneliness.

but she doesn’t expect oscar to start laughing. “are you fucking stupid?”

“excuse me, what?” she scoffs, throwing her head back slightly.

logan sighs next to socar. “come on, don’t be like that. she’s clearly having a hard time right now,” he mutters, putting a hand on his shoulder to calm him down.

oscar turns to logan, pointing a hand over to where the girl stand by her bedroom door. “really, logan? you don’t think she’s being so mind-numbingly stupid right now?” he glances at her then immediately looks away. “she’s so insensitive right now. the last thing she should have done is isolate herself but she’s gone ahead and done exactly that.”

oscar huffs and turns back to her with a frown. “you would think that she would fall back on the people who understand her the most. and you still don’t believe she’s being stupid?”

logan sighs again. “oscar.”

“you don’t fucking get it!” she screams.

“we’re the ones who don’t get it? out of everyone you know, we’re the 2 people who understand the most!”

he has a point, she starts to think. but it’s not the same — they’re not the same. their predicaments are different.

they never had to go through and be on the receiving end of words that tried to tear her down as she grew up.

“no, you don’t!” she says with slight amusement. “you’re oscar piastri. everyone’s kissed the ground you’ve walked on; you came into the sport and everyone’s been acting like you’re a prodigy changing the course of the sport. you don’t know what it’s like to be this way!”

“and you thought that pushing away every single person who wants to help you is the solution to your problems?” oscar snorts. then it hits him. “is that why i haven’t seen matt around lately? you drove him away? finally cracked, didn’t he?”

“you don’t know the half of it,” she scoffs. there’s no need for oscar to remind her of the cardinal sin she’d acted upon to drive matt away.

she lives with the repercussions of it every single day: coming back to an empty apartment. just an apartment, a shell of what used to feel like home.

“all of this over a bad couple races?” oscar rolls his eyes and another mean scoff passes his lips. he was unaware how bad it had gotten for her. “how immature. there’s more to fucking life than your position in f1.”

she sucks in a deep breath. “you’ll never understand.”

“oh, i do,” oscar points out with a small grin. “i grew up with you, rocky, i know how you operate. you break down the minute you’re not the best at something. you get scared and hide away when you don’t feel like you’re on the top of your game.”

“what do you know about what i feel?” she tilts her head with a small smile. “that’s so fucking pretentious of you to say so, oscar.”

“you’ve already made it to the top.” he picks his feet up and starts to walk over to her, shoving away logan’s hand that tries to stop him from threading any further. “it’s unnecessary that you’re still this hard on yourself. you’ve proved everyone wrong by making it this far. there are people on your side,” he jabs a finger into her shoulder and she stumbles back, “there are people who miss you- we miss you!

“do you even realise how lucky you have it right now? you’ve got sebastian helping to push your narrative because he believes in you. do you think everyone’s got that luxury?” he points back at logan. “do you think he had that luxury fight for his life in this sport? did that even cross your mind or are you just so far into your head?”

“oscar,” logan repeats. oscar glances back at logan who has his lips pressed into a thin line, unamused by the scenario he’s choosing to bring up. “don’t even go there.”

but oscar ignores him. oscar turns back to the younger girl and grabs her shoulders, squeezing them firmly as he draws a soft sob from her.

“i thought that because you weren’t entirely alone, it was okay that we take a step back and stopped meddling with your life. i thought you were going to be fine; i thought you knew ho to handle yourself and continue to keep your feet on the ground.”

she shakes her head, bottom lip pouted out. “you don’t-”

“i don’t understand?” oscar scoffs. “how far into your head have you gone to push yourself into a corner? do you realise that you’re in the trenches because you put yourself in there? have you looked in the mirror and actually,” oscar shakes her, “looked at yourself?”

and it seems that something finally clicked in her head. she stares blankly up at him, tears finally running down her cheeks. her chest heaves with constant sobs as she no longer can find the words in her head to prove her point.

“okay, that’s enough,” logan mutters, yanking oscar away from the girl. he shoves the younger boy towards the kitchen. “go and get some air and drink some water — you’re scaring her.”

oscar sniffles, wiping his eyes and stumbles towards the kitchen. he spares her one last glare before turning his back on her. “whatever.”

logan can only sigh when he looks down her head. she’s got her head in her hands as she sobs. she lifts her eyes to look up at him and scoffs. “what? do you have something to say to me? about how deranged i’ve gotten?”

“i don’t know what got into you to think we wouldn’t understand how you were feeling,” he says softly, tears flooding his eyes.

it’s difficult to watch someone you think is so strong be half the person you watched her grow into. he pulls her into his arms, squeezing her into a tight hug and rests his chin on her head.

“i’m sorry,” she cries in staggered breaths into his chest. “i’m sorry. i didn’t know. i didn’t-”

“it’s okay,” he mutters, squeezing her tighter. “we’re here.” he pulls away slightly and cups her cheeks, wiping her tears away with a small grin. “we’ve got you, okay? we’re here now.”

she nods through her tears, “okay.”

“we’ve got you, i promise,” logan hums, pulling her in again. he sways gently as he feels her sobs slowly dying out. “you’ll be okay.”

logan turns around at the sound of things shuffling about. oscar has a trash bag in his hand, picking up empty bottles on the ground and throwing them into the bag silently. she pulls her head back and watches oscar slowly navigate her littered apartment.

sensing their stares, oscar glances over his shoulder. “are you going to help me or are you just going to let me do this by myself?”

she glances up at logan with eyebrows raised and in return, he shrugs with a small smile.

for the next 2 hours, they clean up her apartment in silence. no music, not an utter of another word, just a heavy silence pushing down on their shoulders as they shift about her apartment like a well-oiled machine.

oscar throws his dirty piece of tissue into the bin right by the coffee table and sighs, leaning back into the couch he’s sat on. he’s in a single seater while logan and her share the bigger couch.

her apartment finally looks the way they all remember it. pristine with all her things neatly slotted into their respective slots.

oscar hasn’t spoken to her much since he’d gotten the bright idea to start helping her clean the apartment for her. he’d briefly asked her if she wanted pizza for dinner, to which she simply shrugged and said okay, then asked which toppings she wanted. then they returned to their silence.

he picks up her can of pepsi, popping it open before extending his hand over to her. she turns stiffly and looks at his offer with a blank stare. “oh, thank you.”

she takes it into her hands and glances over at oscar who turns away from her immediately to grab logan’s drink next. “i’m sorry,” she says first, just barely above a whisper. her head is dropped slightly, eyes trained on the slicer of pizza in her hands.

truthfully, she’s not very sure how to apologise for her behaviour. while she’s broken down over things said about her and her progress is a sport that barely had a spot for her, it’s never gotten this bad.

she hadn’t even realised that they still cared with their own lives now.

“no, i’m sorry,” logan says immediately, turning his head to her. “that we didn’t foster an environment where you felt like you could come to use and be honest about how you’re really feeling. you did it for me all the time when we first started out and i’m sorry i couldn’t do the same for you.”

“it’s not even your fault,” she sighs shakily. “i pushed away everyone who tried to extend their hands out to me to help. oscar’s right.”

oscar sighs audibly, sinking into his seat. he turns his head to look at her and purses is lips. “i’m sorry i called you stupid,” oscar says, “we grew up together… i just thought that if you didn’t feel right, we’d still be the people you know you don’t have to put up a facade with. be brutally, disgustingly and painfully honest with.”

“i really didn’t wanna worry anybody,” she frowns. “you have your own lives now, you know? i thought i could handle it on my own.”

“don’t even say that,” oscar turns to her with furrowed eyebrows, “you’re practically my little sister — i’ve driven you to the hospital after you writhed in pain from dislocating your shoulder playing volleyball. i’ve beaten up guys from school for you so of course you’ll always have a place in our lives.”

“i didn’t want you to know that i was a sore loser,” she shrugs with a small grin. she gestures towards logan. “he took our first 2 years in the sport so gracefully. it was embarrassing that i couldn’t do the same when it was my turn.”

“what?” logan scoffs. “you seriously think i wasn’t jealous seeing you guys being glorified by everyone? i felt like shit watching you guys get accepted in the sport with open arms and make new friends without me.”

he gives her a knowing stare when she turns her head to look at him. “i lvoe you, but i seriously despised you so much for being better than me at everything. i felt like the smallest man who’s ever lived when i was next to you. and dude… we were always together.”

she chews on the inside of her cheek. “i didn’t know that… i’m sorry…”

“but at the end of the day, you were always there for me,” logan frowns, poking her arm gently. “i’m sorry i couldn’t give you the same level of comfort to not spiral this bad. the only reason i hadn’t was because you were there for me all the time.”

“well i’m sorry that i was so mean to you,” oscar sighs. “but you know you needed it, right?”

“i know,” she shrugs, “thanks.”

“i don’t wanna be the one to bring it up, though,” logan hums as he reaches forward for another slice, “but what happened with matt?”

she chuckles with a soft snort. she lifts her head and puffs her cheeks out. “i wasn’t very nice to him when everything was falling apart,” tears flood her eyes, “he called for a break. but honestly, i think he wants to break up with me.”

logan raises an eyebrow. “he asked for a break, didn’t he? that’s not a breakup, mate.”

“you weren’t there. i wouldn’t want to be with me either if i had to endure what he went through with me,” she admits with a sigh. she wipes her tears away from her eyes and smiles slightly. “i think he’s just trying to soften the blow.”

oscar laughs. he laughs the loudest and heartiest he’s ever since he’d bolted from lily while they were running errands together. “do you seriously think that?”

she blinks at oscar. “i thought we were done being mean to me, mate.”

“we are!” oscar beams, forcing himself to falter with his laughter. “i’m sorry, i’m not trying to make you feel worse. but do you seriously think that matt — the guy who’s in your garage every single weekend, literally comes into the paddocks with ice cream for your entire team, texts logan and i to ask about things to surprise you with — wants to seriously break up with you?”

“well, you weren’t there,” she explains with a frown. “well, you were, once when i was crying in the paddocks. but i was so mean to him.”

“but a break isn’t a breakup,” oscar explains as he points at her knowingly. “you were arguably at your worst, i doubt that he wants to leave you when your mental was that bad. it happens, you know?”

“if he didn’t want to be with you, he would have broken up with you instead of asking for a break,” logan sighs, patting her on the shoulder. “just approach him.”

“i don’t know how to,” she admits, sliding down the couch to lie down slightly. “there’s no gesture big enough to makeup for the things i said… the way i treated him…”

“say you’re sorry,” oscar says with a small grin and a nod. “start there and i’m sure you guys can work it out from there, you know?”

“i’ll try.”

“okay, enough with this,” logan throws his head back with a grunt. “let’s go karting!” he stands up and smiles at her widely. “you sound like you need your edge back. i’ll even let you win this time.”

she scoffs, “as if i’d ever lose to you in equal machinery!”

“aw, she’s back! she’s fighting back now!” oscar cheers, hopping up as he claps his hands. “come on! then let’s get ice cream where we always get it! i haven’t been there in forever.”

“okay, okay!” she laughs, watching the 2 of them jump to their feet and start to clear out her table. she feels a warmth in her chest watching them in her living room. “just let me shower, okay? we kinda cleaned a lot tonight. i won’t take less than 15 minutes, i promise!”

there’s a chorus of heavy sighs and arms thrown in the air. “we might as well cancel karting.”

“but you take forever to get ready!” oscar jokes with a frown. “if you pass 15 minutes, you’re paying for ice cream.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @mindless-rock @vellicora @ironmaiden1313 @angsthology @cherry-piee @christianpulisic10 @elliegrey2803 @33-81 @darleneslane @nikfigueiredo @happy-nico @namgification @localwhoore @c-losur3 @notawc @sadg3 @kazuha-pista-badam @mellowarcadefun @megatrilss1885 @peqch-pie @woozarts @meadhbhcavanagh @2bormaybenot @a-disturbing-self-reflection @mclarengf @xoscar03 @nomie-11 @green-thots @tinyhrry @iwilleatyourgod @inejismywife @love4lando @louvrepool

[lowgothree]

𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ━━ ❛ 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 ❜

chapter no. 000!          

𝗈𝗈𝗈.                 ⠀CONTENT : angst-ish. reader is lowk insecure and paige is lowk not good at reassurance (its for the plot trussst)

𝗈𝗈𝗈. ⠀      WORD COUNT : 637

𝗈𝗈𝗈.   ⠀AUTHORS NOTE : lmk if yall like this or not!

THERE WAS A TIME WHERE PAIGE KISSING YOU, having you underneath her warm lips, was the best thing that could happen to you. you loved how human it was. how natural it felt for her to be on top of you, her body heat engulfing you. whenever you were together; it was like you entered a little bubble…one where only you and her existed. 

but everything is temporary, (including humanity, apparently) because one november night, she had you pinned against her bed and all you can think about is how much you hate the feeling. you’re alone together now, in the private comfort of her apartment. the blinds were drawn shut but it wouldn’t matter because by now midnight had already rolled in and everyone looking in was most likely sleeping. you had her to yourself, finally –– nothing about the setting was unusual, most of the alone time you and paige had was past 11pm. she only loved you in the dark. 

but it wasn’t enough anymore. 

perhaps you had gotten greedy, finding yourself wanting to hold her hand in less private spaces. you’d been with her for months, six to be exact, and yet it felt pointless. she wouldn’t tell anyone. she said she loved you but she couldn’t tell anyone. and it didn’t help that she was possibly the biggest flirt most likely ever. she pulled away, noticing your lack of usual enthusiasm. 

“is something wrong?” three words that jump started the end of the relationship—if you could even call it that. it was inauspicious at best, nonexistent at worst. that was your greatest fear when it came to the two of you––that there was really nothing there. those three, almost dismissive words, completely shattered you. 

you bite your tongue but it’s futile. when you open your mouth again the words escape before you even realize it, much less stop yourself from saying them. “why did you say that?”

“cause you’re being weird and i wanna know what’s up?” she says in an obvious tone, confused as to why you’d even question her motives for trying to know what’s wrong with her girlfriend. 

“no, not that.” you sigh, realizing your vagueness. “earlier.” 

paige’s confused expression doesn’t lift for even a moment, in fact, it seems to increase. 

“to the girl at the shop. when she asked if you had a girlfriend.” you reply simply, annoyed that the situation clearly meant nothing to her when it meant everything to you. at the moment, at least. “you said you weren’t looking for a relationship.”

“well, that’s not exactly a lie.” she’s mostly joking but it’s clear that you didn’t take it that way. your hand, which was running up and down the length of her spine subconsciously, stops abruptly. her words are spoken lightheartedly but they suffocate you.

“i just mean…i’m kinda with you, y’know? so i’m not actively looking.” she doesn’t know why that’s what she chose to say in that moment and those words would prove to haunt her for long after.

“would it kill you to call me your girlfriend?”

she pauses, tensing like she always does whenever you talk labels. her silence is the worst answer. her silence is indifference. she doesn’t care, of course she doesn’t. why would you even expect her to? it was clear she only wanted a good time from you.

so you decided to make this easy for her. by saying what she never ever wanted you to say to her. you sit up, standing from the bed. “i think it’s best if we don’t keep seeing each other.” she hates how formal you sound. she hates even more how she can’t say anything. she hates how she can’t speak even when you gather your things to leave her. she let you go, too frozen to stop you.

[padfootagain]

Only An Almost (VI)

Chapter 6: Hiding

Hello!! Here is a new chapter!

I hope you’ll like this chapter! Please, tell me what you think!

*************************************

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU

Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!

Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.

Word Count : 2387

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

Andrew needed to talk to you.

After his conversation with Sam, there was no doubt left in his mind that he needed to tell you how he truly felt. This… situation, this… arrangement… it couldn’t go on. It was hurting him too much. Having you for a moment, and then being back to square one, holding himself back all the time, and this fool’s hope that you could feel the same if he waited…

He couldn’t keep on doing this. Another week and two nights with you had passed, and Andrew was now resolute. As he was knocking on your front door and then digging his hands in his pockets, he kept on repeating the words he had prepared beforehand. It was so much easier to write things down, he had sketched his speech this morning.

I know you don’t want a relationship at the moment, I understand that.

He knocked a second time as you weren’t opening the door.

But I’m not sure this… arrangement of ours is a good idea. I see you as more than just a friend. Way more than that. And I don’t think that I can keep on being casual with you.

At long last, the keys turned in the lock, and he stood a little straighter, taking a deep breath.

I get it that this is not the right time for you, and that’s alright. I’ll wait. I’ll wait all the time you need to have a proper date and a proper relationship with you. I’ll wait for you.

You opened the door.

I’ll wait for you, Y/N, if you want to give me a chance…

“Andy? Were we… had we something planned for today?”

“Hi! Erm… not exactly, but like… I haven’t seen you in a few days, I was getting worried you might have been eaten by some roaming spirit or the monster under your bed or something…”

He mentally slapped himself for such a weird and stupid joke.

You granted him an amused smile nonetheless, he was even ready to believe that you were struggling not to laugh.

“I’m alright, I’m just super busy with work.”

“You look tired.”

You looked exhausted, actually, with bags under your eyes, dishevelled hair…

“Thanks, I guess…”

He rolled his eyes.

“It’s not what I meant. You are always stunning. But you do look like you haven’t had a proper rest in a few days.”

“I have so many things to do…”

You heaved a sigh, and it was easy to see that you were buzzing with anxiety.

“Can I come in?” Andrew finally asked, but he was surprised when you hesitated.

“I have some work to do…”

“It’s Sunday afternoon, you’re not supposed to be working on Sunday.”

“Andy…”

“Do I really need to beg?”

He gave you a crooked smile, the ones he thought were almost cocky but behind which he badly hid that he was worried. You heaved a sigh and let him in.

“Tea?” you asked, although you were already grabbing the kettle by the time Andrew had rid himself of his coat.

“Thanks,” he smiled as he sat down by your table.

He waited until you were sitting with him before speaking again. He reckoned that you needed to be eased into the conversation he was aiming for, so he started with niceties.

“What has you so busy then?”

“Work. Important projects.”

“What kind?”

“Look, Andy… I appreciate the thought, but I don’t have time for this…”

“You can’t keep on working without taking a break… it’s Sunday.”

“Like you’re never working on Sundays.”

“I’m a musician, not an office employee. If I want to, I can decide not to work for an entire month, and no one is going to say a thing about it.”

“Touché…”

“Seriously, though… I’m just worried. Why don’t you take a small break with me, huh?”

“Andy, if you came to get laid, I’m not in the mood…”

“I didn’t…”

He frowned as he stared at you, offended by the thought. Your expression softened.

“Sorry. I’m a little on edge.”

“I haven’t heard from you in several days, I was just stopping by to check up on you.”

“I know… I’m sorry, that’s very nice of you, actually. I’m just so…”

“Stressed? Tired? On the verge of a nervous breakdown?”

“All of the above…”

Andrew drank a gulp of tea or two, before standing up in a jolt.

“Come on, go get changed.”

“What?”

“You need some fresh air. Some fresh air, and a nice walk. Come on. Get properly dressed, we’re leaving.”

“Andy…”

“You look like a zombie, you need a break.”

“I thought I was still stunning.”

“You are. Don’t ask me how you do it. Come on!”

You smiled, and seemed to hesitate one last time before getting up as well. You went to your tiptoes to kiss his cheek, and he bent to meet you halfway.

“Thank you, Andy. Where are we going?”

“I’ll find a nice spot, I promise.”

How could Andrew bring up this conversation?

He kept his words light and playful during the short drive to the spot he knew you would like. Some quiet path winding through the Wicklow hills, one that you knew already, but didn’t go there often. It was an easy, peaceful walk. Perfect to focus on nature, and get out of your head. It would do you good.

You were finally starting to relax, and Andrew didn’t dare to bring up the subject he so desperately needed to discuss. Partly because he didn’t want to stress you out again, partly because he was too afraid.

You joked around and spoke of unimportant but lovely things while you walked, his fingers brushing yours every once in a while, blaming the uneven terrain for the ghostly touch. But he didn’t reach out, didn’t hold onto you. He didn’t dare to.

You had brought some snacks with you, prepared while Andrew was pestering you to hurry. He decided that he would talk to you while you took a break to eat them. Yes, that sounded good…

“How often do you come here?” you asked him after a short silence.

“To this spot you mean? I don’t know… Haven’t come in a few weeks, that’s for sure.”

You giggled, and he slowed down to walk next to you again.

“You and your long legs. Wait for us mortals, would you?”

“Only if you’re nice to me.”

“I’ll give you a snack.”

“Hmm… that could work.”

“Or actually, never mind that. Go ahead and play the lure. So the beasts will attack you and spare me.”

“The beasts? What beasts? The squirrels? A bird?”

“There are badgers everywhere around here.”

“True, but I’m too skinny for their taste, I’m sure.”

“A bite-size ankle.”

“Nothing but bone, I’m afraid. Not enough sustenance. They’ll have to get to you, eventually.”

“Naughty.”

You walked further along the quiet path, laughing and joking and talking nonsense. And this was nice, unbelievably nice. There was just something about you that made Andrew’s shoulders lighter, his world brighter.

Love. It’s love.

You took a turn, came to particularly nice spot, breaking free from the trees of the forest trail. There was a clear view of the hills from there, and the valleys below.

“This is so nice. You were right, I was cooked up at home, and then at the office… I needed this. I needed some time outside, to clear my head.”

The Wicklow hills rolled before you, in various shades of green, the bluish grey of a stream running between them. You sat down together on an old stone wall, and you shared your snack with him: some slices of apple and a few biscuits.

“It’s so nice out here. We had not done that in a while, had we?” you went on, before taking a bite at the piece of apple in your hand.

The fruits were sweet and sticky with juice and sugar. The flesh had turned a little brown, oxidized by the air. Andrew hummed in agreement as he took another piece.

“Yeah, a few months, I’d say.”

“Longer than that. I don’t think we’ve done this since you’ve been back.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

He saw your gaze softening with sadness, something close to melancholy.

“How do you do it?”

Andrew frowned in response, silently asking what you meant. You looked at the landscape again as you answered.

“The touring. The constant travelling. Always being away from home. How do you do it?”

Andrew shrugged.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds. I get to do what I love, I can’t complain about it, I reckon. I’m so lucky people across the world love my music, that… total strangers on another continent can find something to relate to in my songs… It’s more than I’ve ever hoped for concerning my career. I’m very grateful for that.”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

He couldn’t refrain a small smile at that. You were always so stubborn, never letting him get away with things. He loved that about you, it was endearing.

He set his gaze on the landscape too, tracked some clouds drifting in the blue sky. The weather was so lovely this afternoon… he wondered when it would turn to rain.

“It’s tough,” he admitted. “On one hand I’m unbearably lucky. I love travelling, I’m going to places I would never have dreamt of visiting. I meet amazing people. I get to perform my songs, and people come to see me. And I would lie if I pretended that I don’t love touring. But it’s… it’s hard to be away for so long. You live out of a suitcase. You don’t have a proper bed, not to mention your own. You never sleep twice in the same place, you’re always busy, always torn in a thousand directions at once… you’re never on your own, there are constantly at least five people in the same room as you. Sleeping in a bus is hell. You’re… exhausted, all the time. Stressed because of all the things to do, stressed about the schedule, the interviews, the nerves before a show… And I miss home. I miss my parents, and my brother. I miss my friends. I miss my house, and my dog, and my bees, and just… this. I miss this place. And I miss you…”

He heaved a sigh, forcing himself to look at you again, feeling your stare upon him.

“But in the end, I love it. There’s nothing as rewarding as hearing someone else singing something I have written. There’s nothing as exhilarating as being on stage, and performing and… It feels like I was born to do that. It just feels so right. It’s the same when I write music. It just feels right.”

Slowly, you nodded, a gentle smile on your lips.

“I understand. But it sounds lonely.”

“I’m literally never on my own, that’s an issue, actually… to me it is, at least.”

“But you’re not with your family. Can you say that you’re with the people who matter most to you?”

“Some of them are.”

“What about most of us?”

He granted you a sad smile.

“Yeah… yeah, I miss all of you.”

You looked away again, and he was surprised to catch a glimpse at tears in your eyes.

“I don’t think I could do it. Not just travelling but… just… how can you be with someone if you’re never here?”

It was his turn to look away to hide rising tears. His throat tightened, his heart dropped, his chest was collapsing…

Was that why you didn’t want to be with him? Why you kept him at arm’s length?

“It can be difficult,” he nodded.

“Is that why you broke up with your ex?”

“There were a bunch of reasons. But it was one of them, yeah.”

“I… I don’t think I could handle it. Waiting for you to come back…”

“I understand.”

“Don’t get me wrong, when I proposed our… arrangement… it wasn’t because it was you. I… I genuinely don’t want to date anyone at the moment. My job is a lot. And I… I’m a little lost these days. What I’m trying to say is that… I feel lonely, sometimes. But I can’t be in a relationship right now. But if I proposed for us to remain friends, it wasn’t because I was rejecting you specifically. Do you see what I mean?”

“I think so… but I… I mean like… my career means that… if you were in a position that allowed you time and space for a relationship, you would still not choose me, right? That’s what it means.”

“I…”

But you grew quiet, and he wasn’t stupid. His vision was blurred with tears: a mix of several shades of green, a splash of blue and some grey and white. A cloud was passing.

He had come all the way here with you to talk, and he had his answer.

“You’re… you’re still okay with what we agreed on, right?”

What could he answer?

No… no, it hurts more than anything I’ve ever experienced. But I can’t lose you for good. I’m not strong enough to survive it…

“Had I been anything else but a touring musician… would you have wanted to date me?” he asked, voice deeper than usual, unbearably fragile.

You didn’t say anything; he took your answer for a no.

He was being a fool…

“I can’t think like that, Andy.”

“Why not?”

“For the same reason you can’t stay for the entire night. That we can’t have pet names. That you can’t kiss me now.”

He blinked his tears away to look at you, frowning, silently encouraging you to keep going.

“I can’t let you break my heart, Andrew.”

His lips parted at your words, he tried to wrap his mind around their meaning, blinked a few times.

It was… It was him. He was the problem. Him, and his job. The same pattern it had always been, all over again, but with you this time around.

You cleared your throat, stood up in a hurry.

“Come on, let’s finish this hike!”

He looked at you as you started to walk away, but didn’t move a muscle.

You could have loved him, and he would still stand no chance at all…

[sequinsmile-x]

The Games We Play - Chapter 4

She’d survived the very worst a person could, lived through things that still kept her up at night, the screams of other innocent people ringing in her head as sleep evaded her.

She’d survived so much, but she didn’t think she’d survive leading him to his death. 

A Hunger Games AU

-x-

Hi friends,

Well, here we are - the final chapter of the most insane fic idea I've had yet. Thanks for all the love on this silly little AU it really means the world.

Please let me know what you think, your comments mean the world <3

-x-

Words: 3.6k

A full list of warnings can be found on the series master list

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

He grunts as the knife enters his chest again, the pain barely there, not matching up with what he thinks it should feel like. He looks up at George, at the crazed look in his eyes, and he knows this is it, that he’d got so close to surviving, so close to fulfilling his promise to Emily, and he’d fallen at the last hurdle.

Emily. 

He thinks of her smile, of the way she’d laugh just when he needed to hear it. He thinks of her beauty, not diminished by what she’d survived but enhanced, her endless strength making her impossibly more gorgeous. 

He had to make it back to her. 

He growls, an animalistic sound escaping him as he surges forward, taking George by surprise as he flips them, the knife scattering out of the other man's hand as he gets the advantage. He hits him, his fists aching and splitting open as he carries on, not stopping as he feels bones crack beneath his knuckles.

He carries on, all the anger he’d ever felt surging through him. Anger at his father. At himself. At the world he found himself living in. 

He only stops when he physically can’t do it anymore, his arms giving out from under him as he collapses off of George, who was eerily still, his eyes, one of the only recognisable parts of his face left, staring straight ahead.

Aaron collapses, his head swimming as blood loss catches up with him, his eyes drifting shut as he hears a canon crack in the air around him.

___

He sucks in a panicked breath, his eyes flying open as he looks around him, his body heavy as he tries and fails to sit up.

“Aaron.”

His head snaps to his left, his eyes wide and wild as he looks at Emily, a mix of relief and disbelief painted across her face, “Emily?”

“It’s okay,” she says, still in her seat, seemingly glued to it as she looks him over, her shoulders tight, “You’re okay. You’re in the private wing of the hospital,” she says, looking around them, “I shouldn’t even be here,” she flashes him a quick smile, “Dave can talk anyone into anything.” 

He nods, taking in his surroundings a little more now the panic has passed. Everything looked opulent, expensive in a way he never would have been able to imagine before he came to the Capitol. He looks past the open door to his room and sees the nurse sitting at a computer and typing, the clack of the keys clear even from where he is lying in his bed. 

“My hearing,” he says, placing his hand over his right ear, “It’s back. After the explosion with Kate…I could barely hear.”

“They restored it for you,” she explains, her smile tight as she sits up straighter in the chair next to his bed, “Nothing but the best for their victor.” 

He nods, blinking heavily a few times before shaking his head, trying to dispel the sleepiness that threatened to overtake him, “What else?” 

“You have a fair number of scars on your chest,” she says, her eyes fixed on his gown as if she could see his damaged skin through it, “And on your knuckles from where you…” she presses her lips together, the memory of the sound of George’s face giving way under his fists sending a shiver down her spine, “They can get rid of the scars too if you want to. Some people keep them.” 

“Did you keep yours?” 

His question takes her by surprise, and for a moment she forgot he didn’t know, that in all the nights they shared a bed he’d never seen her without her clothes on, had never seen the constellation of scar tissue that spread across her abdomen. Pink lines and creases that had faded to white, skin that was still numb to the touch and likely always would be. 

“Yes,” she says, subconsciously placing her hand over the scar through her shirt, “I kept it.” 

He stores the information away for later, not wanting to pry now, but he thinks he’ll make the same decision, not wanting to lose the evidence of what he’d survived. 

“What else happened?” He asks, and she frowns, her eyebrows knitting together as she tilts her head and he smiles softly, “You looked like you saw a ghost when I woke up.” 

She wonders how she should feel about the fact he can read her so easily, that, despite everything, they’d seemingly picked back up right where they left off when she’d been reaped for her own games and her life had changed forever. She thinks she should hate it, but she doesn’t. She likes that he knows her like that, that he understands her. 

It had been so long since she’d felt known. 

“Your…” she clears her throat, her teeth clenched as she tries to breathe through the emotion threatening to overwhelm her, “Your heart stopped when they got you out,” her voice shakes a little, “You were dead for almost a minute until they brought you back.” 

He frowns and places his hand against his chest, his ribs aching, his entire body on fire from pain that the medication in his system barely dulled, “They brought me back?” 

She chokes out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob and she nods, “Yeah, they brought you back.” 

“Why?”

His question surprises her, makes her breath catch in her chest as she looks down at her hands, her torn up cuticles something she can focus on instead of him, “Because they need a winner,” she whispers, “None of this works if they don’t have a winner and George died in the arena. So you’re their winner.” 

He stares at her, his focus on the way she absolutely avoids looking at him. He can’t help but wonder how she felt when she was in his place. When she was laying in a bed, stitched back together after barely surviving the unthinkable, alone and wondering what came next. He feels selfishly grateful that he has her, that she can guide him through this next part. 

“So,” he says, offering her a half smile when she looks at him, “Looks like I’ll be able to take you on a date after all,” he jokes, wanting nothing more than to lighten the mood, to feel anything other than despair for the first time since his brother’s name was called during the reaping. 

She scoffs, shaking her head as she crosses her arms over her chest, Dave’s words from just a few days ago weighing heavily on her chest, “I wish it was that simple.” 

He frowns at her, lifting his hand from his bed and offering it out to her, grateful when she stands and takes it without any further prompting, as if she was magnetised to him, moving against her will, “What do you mean?” 

She isn’t sure how to put it into words. She wanted him, wanted whatever sense of happiness was possible in the reality they lived in, but she knew there would be a cost. She’d always known that, it’s why she’d cut him out of her life until he volunteered for his brother, fate intervening and putting them back firmly in each other's paths. She sighs as she sits on the edge of his bed, his warmth even with the small amount of distance between them intoxicating.

“There will be expectations of us,” she says, her chest hollowed out, aching and empty, ready for the heartbreak she can already feel, the heartbreak she’d endure for the rest of her life if it was what he chooses. She reaches out to push some of his hair out of his face, the strands longer than they usually would be, unkempt from his time in the arena, her fingers ghosting across his forehead. “If we do this. Our life won’t necessarily be our own.” 

He catches her hand as she pulls it away from his face, linking their fingers together and squeezing, desperate to keep her close, “What do you mean?”

She looks over her shoulder to make sure they are alone, to check the nurse who was assigned to him wasn’t in earshot. She’d learnt a long time ago that no one could be trusted, that even those who seemed to be her friends here would give away her secrets for free. The only person she did trust, other than Aaron, was Dave. He’d never lied to her, never been anything other than almost painfully honest, their shared burden of what they did year after year something that had bonded them in a way she’s sure she’d collapse without. She leans in and makes sure she talks quietly, her voice low so only he hears her. 

“We’ll get married,” she says, a smile flitting across her face at the treacherous hope that flashes in his eyes, something that even what he’d just been through couldn’t kill. She liked to think that would one day be the country’s downfall - the hope that existed between them all no matter what they had done to them. Hope that planted seeds and bloomed even in the darkest of circumstances, its flowers too bright and beautiful to be ignored, “And we won’t…there won’t be a lot of choice,” she says, hoping he’d understand, that he wouldn’t make her say it, “We would be expected to do our duty as victors.” 

It’s the desperate look in her eyes that makes it click for him. He thinks of their conversation on the train, the way they’d casually agreed children weren’t on the cards for either of them as they drank liquor he’s sure cost more than his parent’s house. It was a moment in time, something that had led him back to her, his volunteering for his brother a crossroads in his life that had changed everything. A decision that, in the grand scheme of things, hadn’t been that long ago but may as well have happened to a different person. 

“Oh,” he says, feeling her hand go slack in his, her expression tight as she starts to pull away, taking his silence and lack of a reaction as confirmation he would change his mind. He holds her hand even tighter, and feels her bones pop against each other, “Well, if there was anyone I’d want to do any of that with, it would be you.” 

She scoffs, disbelief catching on every rib as it forces its way out, “Aaron, it’s not that simple,” she says, looking down at their joint hands, his tanned skin from the artificial sun in the arena making hers look even paler than usual, “We’d have to have children. If we didn’t Barnes would punish us, our families.” 

“Em-”

She carries on as if he hasn’t spoken, as if she can’t hear him. All of the fears she’d pushed down for years finally burst to the surface, escaping from the box she’d hidden them in because he’d knocked it over, his love and kindness tearing her defences to pieces. 

“And as much as I always said I don’t want children, I’d love them. I’d love them so much and then having to send them off to the arena when they turn 12-” she’s cut off as he sits up, groaning at the pain that spreads through his chest, his entire body burning from the points where Foyet had stabbed him, “What are you doing? You’re hurt.” 

“I’m trying to hug you,” he says through gritted teeth as she lowers him back down to the bed, her hands firm on his shoulders as she raises an eyebrow at him in disbelief. He breathes through the pain for a moment and then rests his hands on her hips, “Em, I understand what you’re saying,” he says, encouraging her closer, her face close enough that he can feel her breath skipping across his skin, “I know it won’t be easy, but even if we had a kid tomorrow, 12 years is a long time. You never know what could happen.” 

She huffs out a laugh and presses her forehead against his, “You think the world is going to change enough between now and then to mean we’d be safe.” 

“I think you haven’t even kissed me yet,” he says, his hand on her back, his palm splayed so his fingers sneak under the hem of her shirt, smiling softly as she shivers as his heated skin touches hers, “Everything else will happen as it happens.” 

She thinks she should hate him for being so sure, for the hint of optimism she knew time would kill over the next few years, but she can’t bring herself to. Instead, she allows herself to feel the relief that she’d been holding off since she’d arrived at the hospital. It fills her lungs, her chest fully expanding for the first time since she’d last seen him before he went into the arena, and she shakes her head, pressing her forehead against his for a moment before she pulls back, her smile fond as their eyes meet. 

She leans in and presses her lips against his, her hand on his cheek to hold him in place, as if he’d rather be anywhere else even if he had the strength to move. It’s everything she’d ever imagined it to be and more as he pulls her closer, his hand insistent on her back as his other one finds its way into her hair, anchoring her to him. He tastes of the sugary medicinal drink she’d been made to have when she first woke up when she won the games, a boost she’d never known the name of, a hint of something she knew must just be him lingering underneath. 

He sighs contentedly as she sinks into him, her tongue running across the seam of his lips before he opens his mouth. He’d thought about this moment for so long that it didn’t feel real, almost too good to be true. For a moment he wonders if he really did die in the arena, if this was the last thing his subconscious was doing for him, a moment of heaven before he slipped into darkness. 

He knows it’s real the moment she pulls back, a concerned look on her face as he groans in pain, the two of them having got carried away as he pulls her tight to his chest, the pain reverberating throughout his body. 

“Sorry,” she says, her hand slipping from his cheek to his throat, the reassuring thump of his pulse against her skin calming her down. 

“Never apologise for kissing me,” he replies, encouraging her back in for another kiss, a quick thing stamped against her lips, “But we might have to wait a little while for our date.”

She smiles and nods, resting her forehead against his, taking a moment to breathe him in, “I should get going anyway. Let you rest.”

He shakes his head, “No, stay.”

“Aaron-”

“Please,” he says, wincing as he tries to shift in the bed, making room for her to slide in next to him, “I want you to stay.” 

She hesitates, not sure what people would say or think if they found her in his bed, but she realises she doesn’t care. For the first time in years, she doesn’t think about anyone other than herself and she nods, slipping off her shoes before she carefully slips into bed with him, her head on his shoulder as she snuggles into his side. A sense of peace she hadn’t felt since they’d last slept next to each other washes over her and she tilts her head to look up at him. 

“I love you,” she says, the words not seeming as heavy as they had on the rooftop the night before the games started. It was no longer something she’d only get to say to him once, no longer a rushed confession borne out of a misunderstanding. It was softer, impossibly more real.

Something she would say to him every day for the rest of her life. 

“I love you too,” he replies, kissing the top of her head, tightening his hold on her the best he can with his injuries, “And I’ll spend the rest of my life doing that the best way that I can.” 

___

At first, she’s not sure what wakes her up.

She’d never slept well on the train, not from the very first time she’d boarded it. It was eerily quiet given the speed they were travelling and it left her feeling uneasy, a stillness to it all that felt unnatural. 

She rolls onto her back and groans, rubbing her hands over her eyes as she considers going to watch the sunrise in the back carriage, and then she hears a moan next to her, drawing her attention to Aaron as he sleeps fitfully. As he thrashes in the bed, his fists clenched at his sides, she knows what woke her up and she sighs sadly. She sits up and turns on the light, folding her legs against her chest and wrapping her arms around them as she watches him, waiting for him to wake up. 

The first night he’d been back from the hospital, the same day he’d had his interview with Gideon, she’d tried to wake him up. She’d put her hands on his face and tried to pull him out of it, her words soft and reassuring as she eased him back to her. He’d grabbed her wrist, his grip tight around it, as he woke up, leaving a bruise that hadn’t quite faded yet. He hadn’t forgiven himself, had refused to sleep next to her again until she promised she wouldn’t try to wake him up again, and she hated how he sometimes looked at her. 

As if she had something to be afraid of when she was with him. 

It feels like an age passes before he wakes up, his chest filling quickly with a breath that’s clearly painful as he sits up, his eyes wild as he yells, his fists clenched so tightly she’s sure he could break the skin on his palms. 

“Aaron,” she says quietly, not wanting to startle him. He looks at her so quickly it must pull at his neck, his eyes still wide as they meet hers. She knows that look, she’s seen it on her own face in the small hours of the night as she splashed water on herself in the bathroom after a nightmare. He was in the arena, his mind playing tricks on him even though he was now as safe as he ever would be. “You’re okay. It’s a dream. We’re on the train home.” 

“Emily?” 

She smiles and nods, shifting closer to him as the fog in his eyes starts to lift. She reaches out and places her hand on his cheek, her heart twisting in her chest as he leans into it, seeking out the affection she always had waiting for him. 

“It’s me. I’m right here,” she assures him, shifting closer again until she’s in his lap, something in her stomach easing when he wraps his arms around her and holds her close, “I’m right here.” 

He sighs, his eyes drifting closed as he rests his forehead on her temple, taking the chance to breathe her in, to replace the blood he could still smell with the scent of her, “I’m sorry.” 

She pulls back and cups his cheek again, “You have nothing to be sorry for.” 

His eyes drift to her bruised wrist and guilt churns in his gut just like it had every day since he’d woken up to find his first wrapped tightly around it. He clenches his teeth and shakes his head, familiar anger he hadn’t been able to shift since the arena burning through him. 

“I don’t know how you can even look at me.” 

She frowns as he looks down, avoiding her eye contact. He barely lets go of her though, as if she was the only thing keeping him grounded, so she wraps her arms around his shoulders to hold him close. 

“What do you mean, sweetheart?” She asks, the moniker slipping free without her meaning it to, her focus on playing with the short hairs at the back of his head, providing comfort in any way she can. 

“I hurt you,” he says, his tone flat as he continues to stare at the wall, “I killed people, Em,” he finally pulls away to look at her, “I killed a guy with my bare hands.” 

“If you hadn’t, he would have killed you,” she reasons, an edge of desperation to her voice that she ignores, “And I’ve killed people too. It’s the only reason we’re both still here,” she smiles sadly, her hand on his cheek as she holds him in place, “Does that make it hard for you to look at me?” 

He shakes his head immediately, his eyebrows furrowing as if the mere idea was ridiculous, “Of course not,” he says emphatically, “Never.” 

“Then it’s not going to make it hard for me to look at you,” she says, making a point of reaching for his hand, of smoothing her fingers over the still healing cuts on his knuckles, “We survived,” she looks up at him, making eye contact as she kisses his hand, soothes away the damage both physical and mental, the scars she couldn’t see but knew were there, “We survived, and now we’ve got to try and live. As best as we can,” she kisses him, her lips firm against his, and she barely pulls back, her breath skipping across his face as she speaks, “Together.” 

He nods, pulling her closer, his grip on her fierce. She holds him back just as tightly, seeking comfort as easily as she gives it. 

“Together.” 

-x-

Me to me: you will not write a sequel…you will not write a sequel…

-x-

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[tgmsunmontue]

More than movie magic... 19/?

Hangster AU. Explicit (eventually). Jake is a Hollywood actor and Bradley is a stunt coordinator. Jake's about to make a few self-discoveries. So is Bradley.

ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FOURTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN

Chapter 16 is pretty much the only explicit chapter (so far), so you can skip it if you like, but it's not explicit by my standards, and it's very soft/tender.

NINETEEN

                “Sorry, sorry. Sorry I’m late. Jake’s mom is way more terrifying than you. Hopefully I won’t need more than one shovel talk.”

                Marcia snorts and shakes her head, gestures to where Bob is working and Bradley is grateful that he brought him along with how easily he just seems to know what needs to be done. Man deserves a bonus for this job for sure, picking up Bradley’s slack, uncharacteristic as it is. It’s not a usual situation and he knows Bob will understand that.

                “Also, Marcia, I need to warn you that Pete’s on his way. I apologize in advance for anything and everything he says.”

                “Ugh. It’s fine. Thanks for the warning though. I’ll put him to work and then refuse to put his name in the credits. Serve him right for just turning up and expecting to be welcomed.”

                “You’re the best. Thanks.”

                “Yeah yeah, now get to work and bring us back on schedule hmm?

                “Yes ma’am!” Bradley replies, tipping an imaginary hat. She scoffs and rolls her eyes, makes a shooing gesture with her hands and Bradley grins.

                “Not you too!”

                “It’s rubbing off on me!” Bradley calls back.

                “Rubbing off on something, your boy looks like he got attacked by a cheese grater and then used lemon juice as a moisturizer. You’re going to need to start shaving twice a day,” Natasha mutters, reaching out to whack him on the arm as he walks past. “Maybe consider getting rid of the caterpillar huh?”

                “I happen to like the caterpillar,” Jake interjects, and he looks a little uncertain about interrupting them but Bradley reaches for him, pulls him into a side-hug, leaves his arm around Jake’s waist and feels Jake relax against him. He thinks about Aunty Kaye saying maybe he’ll believe you and he just squeezes a little more, pokes his tongue out at Natasha’s eye roll.

                “You two are gross. Can we get on with doing what we’re meant to be doing?”

                “Sure sure…”

…            …            …

                It’s meant to be all long distance action shots today of them riding and corralling, and Natasha and Rueben are proficient riders, comfortable in their seats even if they don’t quite look born to it. That’s fine, Javy and Callie aren’t playing characters born to it like Jake is.

                “You know, your mom just gave me the most eloquent shovel talk I’ll ever receive.”

                Jake snorts.

                “She was an English and Drama teacher, what were you expecting?”

                “Well, the fact that it was also a pep talk was sort of weird…”

                “What do you mean?”

                “Well, she said she’d do the same to you if she found out if you hurt me. Physically, emotionally or mentally.”

                “What did she threaten you with?” Jake asks, because his mom is not one for violence, not even threatening it. She was always pretty creative with Jake and his siblings growing up, which is almost worse than threatened violence which will never actually eventuate. His mom always believed in only ever threatening things she was fully committed to following through on.

                “Uh. Just a disappointed look? For either of us if we screw it up on purpose?”

                Jake bursts into laughter.

                “Oh god. You don’t know her very well yet, but uh, when she says that, she really means it. It’s not just an in person look. She’ll take a photo of herself, she will then print it, and she will post it to you. She will email it to you. Post it on all her social media accounts. She’ll rent advertising space and put text saying I am disappointed in you with the photo. It’s… it’s horrifying. And I haven’t had her do that to me thankfully, but my sister, oh boy… It stops when you make it right. Or when she thinks you’ve suffered sufficiently.”

                “Well, I’m glad you have her in your corner. And I don’t need her to threaten me to do the best for you, I want to do that anyway.”

                “You a secret romantic there?”

                “No secret about it. I grew up surrounded by love stories.”

                Jake pulls a face, because while there might be plenty of love stories in Hollywood, there are also plenty of affairs and divorces. Bradley seems to pick up on his train of thought.

                “Nothing worth it is easy. I don’t scare easily. Not afraid of hard work. But the love story I was thinking of was my parents. And you have your parents. Those love stories are where we should be looking.”

                Jake blinks, throat a little tight and he nods, because yeah, that kind of love story is something he believes in.

…            …            …

                “Seresin.”

                Jake looks up, and he doesn’t recognize the person addressing him but something about the way he said his name has him straightening up and his stomach flips, because yeah, if he hadn’t known Tom Kazansky was going to be arriving today he wouldn’t have recognized him, but now that he’s looking this man is him. Older and greyer, but still recognizable if you know who you’re looking at.

                “Mr Kazansky, it’s nice to meet you,” Jake says, holding out his hand.

                There’s a brief hesitation before Tom Kazansky is shaking his hand and the man is a multiple award winning director and screen writer, albeit no longer as prolific as he was twenty or even ten years ago, but he still has a presence that expects people to listen to him when he talks. He’s a little intimidating, but not because of his reputation in Hollywood. This is Bradley’s other parental figure and he desperately wants to make a good impression.

                “And you. Pete’s told me a lot about you.”

                “Uh. Okay,” Jake says and grimaces a little, because he’d rather that he’d heard all about Jake from Bradley, but he guesses they’re new, Bradley wouldn’t have had time to talk about him to his parental figures.

                “Don’t worry, I only believe about half of what Pete tells me.”

                “How do you know what half to believe?”

                “Experience,” Kazansky says dryly and Jake bites his lip in amusement, ducks his head so it won’t be noticed. “Also Pete is prone to exaggeration. He’s likely bothering Marcia and Arnold. And Bradley. Thought I’d come and introduce myself.”

                Jake nods.

                “Bradley didn’t tell me about you until just this morning, hasn’t really had a chance to tell me anything. I know he was planning on a family dinner when we get back to LA.”

                “Yes. Pete sort of forced Bradley’s hand there. You’ll get used to it. I hope.”

                “Bradley has already warned me that Parent-Pete is different from the Professional-Pete that I know, but I’m not going to be scared off by threats or anything. Bradley’s already having to deal with that from my mom, so it seems like the bare minimum I can do.”

                “It’s not the threats I’d be worried about when it comes to Pete. And I guess I get Partner-Pete and you get Parent-in-law-Pete. Lord help us.”

                Jake thinks he’s going to like him, once he gets to know him better. Seems to have a dry sense of humor and actually… reminds him a lot of his dad.

                “I don’t know if you’re wanting to hang around the set, but if you want a quiet place to just, sit and chill, my dad is at home. He doesn’t get out much since his accident, prefers peace and quiet. You’re welcome to wait there, if you don’t want to hang around the set that is.”

                He’s aware he’s rambling a little, but by the expression on Tom Kazansky’s face he’s letting Jake do it deliberately.

                “I’d like that. Thank you.”

[dangerpronebuddie]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @tizniz thank you darling 🥰🩵

How many works do you have on ao3?

17! Soon to be 18 (hopefully).

What's your total ao3 word count?

78,569 words

What fandoms do you write for?

Currently 9-1-1 and previously one or two chapters on a Sherlock fic my sibling started YEARS ago.

Top 5 fics by kudos:

1. Lost Control And Rang Your Bell

2. To The Core (I Love You)

3. What Breathing Feels Like

4. Baby, I'm Never Gonna Leave You

5. Our Shoulders Touch, There's A Moment

Do you respond to comments?

Yes! I try to get every single one 🥰

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Yet to be published 😉. Published though, probably Baby, I'm Never Gonna Leave You. It's not angsty per se, it's more ominous.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I try for happy endings always (it's the Jane Austen in me), but I'd say the fic with the happiest ending would be The Pain Is UnBEARable. Friends to fiances 😁!

Do you get hate on fics?

Once? I really don't know if it was hate or just frustration? I mean, it was an open ending so just... ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯ sorry?

Do you write smut?

I'm trying! I posted my first one last week 😁: And Every New Boy That You Meet (He Doesn't Know The Real Surprise) (part 2 is in progress)

Craziest crossover?

Haven't written any.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

God, I hope not.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I don't think so?

Have you co-written a fic before?

Once. The Sherlock one my sibling wrote. They put me as co-author but the majority is theirs.

All time favorite ship?

Buddie! They have altered my brain chemistry.

What's a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

There's a wip I keep going back to that I have a love/hate relationship with. The scenes and the lines and the descriptions are some of the best I think I've ever written. But the premise is iffy at best. We'll see. If I can get a solid enough plot and if Buck gives me an explanation for what the hell he does in that fic, I might finish it.

What are your writing strengths?

Hmmm... I've been told a lot of my fics feel like episodes and the characters' voices are pretty good. So I guess the pacing of my fics? (Which shocks me because I really suck at pacing my original works).

What are your writing weaknesses?

Description. I just don't do the long and beautiful descriptions or the super detailed whump scenes very well. It takes practice, but it seems to be a talent I just don't have.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I like it, but I don't do it very much. I don't want people to tell me I'm an idiot for getting something wrong.

First fandom you wrote in?

Sherlock.

Favorite fic you've written?

My beloved Hildy fic. I treasure it. It freaking flopped but it is my baby. I love the entire Danger Prone Diaz series so far, but They Say She's Gone To Far (This Time) was so much fun.

Tags: @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @loveyouanyway @steadfastsaturnsrings @ronordmann @daffi-990 @wikiangela @thekristen999 @bidisasterevankinard @kitteneddiediaz @actuallyitsellie @hippolotamus @diazsdimples @exhuastedpigeon @spagheddiediaz @theotherbuckley @wildlife4life @fortheloveofbuddie and anyone else who wants to! 🥰🩷 (if I missed you I'm sorry)

[m0ther-of-p3arl]

not nearly enough

(robert aeor high au p10)

masterpost

ITS BEEN TOO LONG- ok ok ok yEEEEeeEeEe im excited to post this one :000 ITS PART 10 GUYS OMG WE HIT THE DOUBLE DIGITS also 40,000 words in total in the entirety of the fic so YEYY

Before Jim came to town, Scott was… well, not fine, exactly- but he was laying low, he was safe, in a sense. He was biding his time until he could leave, until he could get out of the hellhole of a town he still lives in. He had a plan, and Jimmy interrupted that in the worst- oh, who is he kidding- best way possible.

or, its been SIX MONTHS time skip jumpscare HAHHAHAHAHA

TW: anxiety, depression, self-hatred, MAGICAL FLASHBACKS, references to past abuse, etc etc the usual

(5141 words)

And so the months pass, months of sleeping uncomfortably in Jimmy’s bed, months of trying to stay calm when he has flashbacks in the middle of the night, months of staying inside as much as he can for fear that he’ll see Father at the park or the grocery store or anywhere, really. John and Laura bought him a new phone, so at least he can still communicate with the people he relies on.

The others, Joel and Shelby and Owen, were irate when they heard that Scott was now living with Jimmy and Beks, or more so, the reason why: Scott can still remember Shubble shrieking “WHAT?!” when he told her the news, so loud he’d actually heard ringing in his ears- after the initial shock, she kept ranting for about twenty minutes straight about abusive parents and neglectfulness and yada yada yada, stuff Scott’s heard a million times before.

Owen, to contrast, stayed very quiet, the anger simmering right below his voice, just enough so that Scott could hear the hints of it, the bits of raw emotion his best friend couldn’t quite keep hidden. Joel had literally stormed over to Jimmy’s house and started yelling at everyone and everything, including Scott, Beky and her parents, and Jimmy- three different reactions from three different people, all displaying their personalities really well.

But for the most part, it’s been good living with John and Laura; they let him skip school when he needs to, John is an excellent cook (it’s so nice not having to eat peanut butter jelly sandwiches anymore) and Laura makes the second-best tea Scott’s ever drunk (first is Jimmy’s, of course.) His favorite part of his current arrangement, however, is his evening “Jimmy time,” as he’s come to think of it- every evening, he and Jimmy go down to the TV room and watch a movie, play a video game they’re both trash at, or video call Shelby and Joel.

Looking back from where he is now, it’s kind of unclear to Scott where and when Jimmy time started, but he knows it’s been going on since at least a week after he moved in. At first, he’d worried that Jimmy didn’t enjoy spending that much time with him, but the avian’s never complained and so Scott has grown accustomed to this little routine, he’s grown to enjoy the three or four hours they’ll spend together every night.

But on the more negative side of the cucumber, things are not going well with Owen. He’s drifted further and further away from the center of their group, and especially since he lives so close to Scott’s old house, they haven’t had any time to hang out just the two of them. He’s tried to text Owen a bit, but things have grown strained between him, not the easy-going friendship Scott’s so accustomed to, the friendship he relies on. Something’s shifted, and though he can’t put a finger on exactly what, he’s pretty sure it has to do with Jimmy.

Why does absolutely everything in Scott’s life always boil back down to Jimmy?

He’s still running his morning jog on the weekends, though he’s changed his route significantly so it doesn’t go anywhere near his old neighborhood, as just the possibility of seeing his father, or even the mansion, make Scott feel like he’s going to throw up. But other than this little weekly routine, Scott doesn’t spend much time outside at all.

His days are now spent in solitude, watching YouTube on his phone in Jimmy’s room or simply laying on the bed, getting lost in his anxiety and self-hatred. Often, Jimmy, Shelby, or Joel will try to invite him on an outing, but he declines every time, brushing away their worried glances and hushed comments. Most of the time, Scott is alone. And he has to admit, he kind of likes it that way.

If he’s alone, he doesn’t have to focus on the stresses of small-talk and human interaction, he doesn’t have to pretend to smile behind a curtain of self-doubt, he doesn’t have to act like he’s getting better, the way everyone expects him to. Because he’s not getting better. It’s been six months, six months, since he moved in with Jimmy- he’s almost eighteen, and Jimmy’s finally seventeen, another half of a year has gone by but nothing’s changed; he just can’t shake the beast that roils within him, the dark, biting cloud that gnaws at him from the inside out.

Jimmy’s great and all, Scott really appreciates all he’s done for him, but the simple fact of the matter is that Scott’s basically in love with the avian, and Jimmy decidedly does not reciprocate his feelings, meaning that there’s always some sort of catch when they’re hanging out. Scott can’t let himself go all the way, can’t make the same sort of raucous jokes he can with Owen, there’s always this slight weird formality between them. Not anything noticeable from an outside standpoint, but Scott sees it, and he knows Jimmy does too. It tends to make things… more difficult than necessary

He misses his best friend. Scott misses Owen, more than he’s ever missed anyone in his life. He misses the way they used to laugh at the park, he misses when they would climb trees to get away from Owen’s multitude of little sisters, he misses every fleeting moment he and his best friend have ever shared. And as much as he loves Jimmy, the avian can’t give him back the simple, platonic moments that have made up some of the best parts of his life.

Memories are a strange thing, Scott supposes as he sits alone on the bed, because though you always wish you could go back and change things, you can’t. There is no possibility, there is no feasible way that Scott could ever change the way things have worked out. But sometimes, when he’s sat alone with nothing to do, feeling the safety in boredom, he finds himself wondering what he would change if he could.

Usually, he tells himself he would’ve chosen to choose his words more carefully that fateful night when everything changed forever, he would’ve skirted around the issues and just been a good little boy. Sometimes he thinks that he wouldn’t have kissed Jimmy, sometimes, when he’s feeling really terrible, he tells himself he would’ve just made it so he doesn’t exist.

But at times like this, when he’s alone and sane and completely transparent with himself, he knows that what he would’ve changed is the fact that he even met Jimmy in the first place. And yeah, he knows it sounds weird and ungrateful but it’s true- as much as he loves and cares about the avian, Jimmy’s basically the godfather of all Scott’s struggles.

Before Jim came to town, Scott was… well, not fine, exactly- but he was laying low, he was safe, in a sense. He was biding his time until he could leave, until he could get out of the hellhole of a town he still lives in. He had a plan, and Jimmy interrupted that in the worst- oh, who is he kidding- best way possible.

Everything’s kind of gone downhill since  he met Jimmy, but he’s enjoyed almost every second of the fall, and that, right there, is a problem. Scott’s addicted to the change, he’s addicted to the presence and light the avian brings to his life, but he’s also completely drawn in by the hurt that seems to follow Jimmy like a dark haze, bringing nothing but grief to those he comes to know. 

He wryly recalls, all those months ago, mentioning to Joel how canaries are harbingers of death- but that was never the whole proverb, was it? No. If Scott remembers his mother’s stories well enough, it was “canary call, first to fall.” Mother would always speak of how Scott should never trust a canary; how they were nothing but trouble no matter what, even if it wasn’t intentional. And he supposes she’s been proven right, but also��

He doesn’t know. He just- something about him just can’t let Jimmy go. Something about the avian is just so… easy. Or it was. Before the concussion, before…

He can’t think about that. Every time it crosses his mind, their supposed kiss, Scott’s mouth goes dry and his cheeks flush, he’ll just find himself blushing at random points in the day whenever something reminds him. He wishes… he kind of wishes he could remember it. He wishes he hadn’t forgotten, he wishes Jimmy would like him, he just can't stop wishing- 

Scott just can’t stop thinking about how things could have been, the way they could have gone if only the slightest things had happened differently, but it hasn’t, it hasn’t it hasn’t it hasn’t and Scott’s starting to panic-

The door to the room creaks open, snapping Scott out of his thoughts. Speak of the devil. It’s Jimmy, and as much as Scott hates it, his whole face lights up at the avian’s presence. “Hey,” Jimmy greets, dumping his backpack on the bed. “How’s it going? I brought your homework, by the way.”

Scott tries to smile, tries to pretend he hasn’t just been thinking about all the things he wished were different, tries to pretend his brain hasn’t just been riddled with thoughts of the boy now stood in front of him. “Hey,” Scott replies, mimicking Jimmy’s nonchalant tone, just the sight of the canary stood in front of him as panic-inducing as ever, his heart beating faster than a rabbit’s. “How’d school go?”

“It was alright,” Jimmy mutters, flopping down onto the bed and spreading his limbs every which way, leaving Scott to look down at him, pulling his knees to his chest to make sure he’s not sitting on Jim’s feathers. “ELA was a beast, though- I don’t envy you having to do that homework with no context.”

Scott groans, tilting back his head to look up at the ceiling, bracing himself up with his hands behind him. “Would you help me?”

“Obviously,” Jimmy scoffs, maneuvering into a sitting position, his hand brushing momentarily against Scott’s before he wraps his arms around his knees. The warmth lingers on his frigid skin, as it always does whenever he and Jimmy touch. “But do you wanna go get food first? I’m famished, and knowing you, you’ve probably kept yourself locked up in this little room all day.” It’s true; Scott doesn’t think he’s left the bedroom at all today, except for maybe once or twice to use the bathroom or take a shower.

“Ha, fair enough,” Scott concedes, pushing himself up off the bed and following Jimmy through the door. As they trundle down the stairs, Scott can’t help but recall the first time he came to this house- how Jimmy had stood upon these very stairs, resplendent and practically glowing in his light green dress. Scott remembers how his biggest worry that day had simply been things ending up awkward between him and Jim. Little had he known that later that very same day, he would literally be evicted from his own home.

He tries not to think about the part where he literally kissed the boy he was hoping not to be embarrassing around.

They enter the kitchen, John’s favorite place in the whole house; purple and green and yellow and so many other colors adorn the walls in alternating stripes, the cabinets painted with the complement of the walls around them. Jimmy’s citrusy scent mixes into the cinnamon and cilantro of the kitchen as he pulls open the door to the fridge, pausing as he surveys the contents.

“What do you wanna eat?” Jimmy asks, turning back towards Scott.

“Um, I don’t really know.” Scott can’t remember the last time he’s felt genuinely hungry, but he does know that if he doesn’t eat he will starve regardless of what it feels like. So every night he gulps down a quick meal, and that’s all he’ll eat for a day unless he and Jimmy are having popcorn with a movie. “I’ll have whatever you’re having, I guess.”

The canary nods, used to this response by now, and pulls out a can of chicken tikka masala left over from the last time they’d ordered Indian food. “Shall I pop this in the microwave?”

“That’d actually be great, thank you,” Scott agrees. “I think some CTM might actually hit the spod right now. By the way, where’s Bek?” He hasn’t seen her yet, which is strange- Beks is usually right up in everyone’s face, yelling for attention.

“Oh, didn’t she tell you? She’s gone over to Krow’s for a sleepover.” Jimmy doesn’t look back at him as he mixes the masala with rice, separates it into two bowls, and pops them both into the microwave. 

Scott laughs, propping himself up on the island with his hands. “But doesn’t Bek always come home angry at Krow from those sleepovers because it’ll use its siren song to get her to tell it all her secrets?”

Jimmy lets out a tinkling snicker. “Well, yeah, but El’s going to be there as well, so I’m hoping that she’ll act as some sort of peace-maker. She’s, like, the only one Krow’ll ever listen to. Would you like some tea?”

“Yes, please.”

They stand there in silence for a couple minutes, the air tinged with more awkwardness than Scott cares to admit, especially for someone he’s lived six months with. He can tell almost instinctively that they’re both thinking about the kiss, Jimmy probably replaying the actual memory over in his mind while Scott sees the approximation he’s managed to piece together. He can practically see Jim’s disgusted face, shocked eyebrows and an angry furrow to his forehead- a thick feeling of shame wells in the pits of Scott’s stomach, and it’s not the first time.

Scott’s been thinking about it for months, and yet he still can’t believe that, delirious as he was, he actually kissed Jimmy. The typical version of him could never work up the courage to do that- not in a million, billion, trillion years. Scott could count all the stars in the sky before he would try to kiss Jim.

“So! What do you wanna do tonight?” Jimmy asks, reaching up on his tiptoes to pull the food out of the microwave. 

“Um, I was thinking we could watch a Disney movie? One of the newer ones, maybe Big Hero 6, Soul, or Luca?” Scott suggests, running a hand backwards through his snakes.

“Soul and Luca are Pixar, silly.” Jimmy laughs, and just like every time his high, chirping bird-like snicker escapes his mouth, Scott feels like he’s soaring above the clouds, and he can’t help but remember how much easier it was when he was still in denial about his love for the canary. But then the laughter is cut off abruptly and a look of panic crosses over Jimmy’s face. With shaking hands, he sets the bowls down on the counter, and Scott can tell that if he’d been holding them for a moment longer, they would have been dropped.

Scott’s there in an instant, working his way around the island to Jimmy’s side. He cautiously places a hand on the avian’s shoulder. “You good?” Scott asks, surveying Jimmy’s face with concern.

“Y-yeah, I think I’m-” 

Suddenly Scott’s somewhere else, a playroom full of toys much too young for someone his age, the windows and doors barred from the outside, simple, almost blindingly white walls pressing in imposingly on all sides. There are two people peering through the iron bars at a canary avian sat in the middle of the room, one a salmon Seafolk and the other an axolotl, like Lizzie, Joel’s crush.

“Which one is it?” A biting voice comes from the axolotl, not something Scott would expect from such a typically peaceful species- but his voice is directed unmistakably towards the canary in the middle of the room.

“Oh! Hi, Patty, do you have guests?” The avian speaks before the salmon, presumably Patty, can respond, and as they step eagerly towards the door, Scott catches a glimpse of their face. 

His face is about five years younger, fuller and hair less scruffy, a voice somehow even higher than the one he currently possesses, but Scott knows him.

It’s Jimmy. 

“What can you tell me about Chicago? I’ve heard about Chicago,” the younger version of the boy Scott’s come to love asks, wrapping his hands around the bars of the door and staring with excitement up at the disgusted axolotl, who recoils from the canary, a sneer wrapping around his features.

“Shut up, kid,” Patty hisses, before regaining her composure and turning to the salmon. “Ahem, Mr Barnaby, that is… Jimmy, he’s a canary avian whom I found on my many travels throughout the globe.”

“Why’s it asking so many questions? Aren’t they all supposed to be tame?”

“Oh, haha.” Patty laughs; a small, fake giggle that grinds into Scott’s teeth and sets his skin on edge. “Jimmy’s always been a curious little bird.”

And then Scott’s back, back to the kitchen, reeling from the whiplash he’s just experienced. It takes him a moment to realize that he’s staring right into the same exact avian’s eyes, but 5 years older. For a moment, neither of them speak, thousands of words communicated in simple eye contact. Scott never used to be able to look anyone in the eyes, and for most people, he still can’t- but Jimmy’s a rare exception.

“D-did you-” Jim breaks the silence, looking shaken beyond words, his skin ashen as he tries clearly to hold back his tears.

“I saw it, yeah,” Scott says, taking Jim’s hand in both of his own before he can think about it too much. Selfish, selfish, selfish. “What was that? How did we both see- okay, the how isn’t important right now, we can talk about that later. I just need to know if you’re okay- I remember you told me about a Patty once, but I didn’t think- I never expected-” Scott’s at a loss for words, because whatever he’s just witnessed is so- so despicable- 

She hurt Jimmy. She hurt him and no one’s allowed to hurt Jim, he’s too sweet and kind and he always puts others before himself, he laughs at the stupidest jokes and is undeniably the most genuinely kind person Scott thinks he’s ever met. He begins to feel a rage building in the back of his throat, because who would- what kind of monster- who could ever find it in themselves to hate Jim?

Jimmy’s struggles and the way he’s dealt with them put what Scott’s been through to shame, and he can feel the guilt beginning to gnaw up at him from the insides biting and churning. Here he is, sitting alone and feeling sorry for himself, when Jimmy was held fucking prisoner, a hostage in a cell, by a person he professed to trust, maybe even saw as a mother figure?

“No, it-it’s fine, I left, I got out of there, she doesn’t matter anymore,” Jimmy mutters, wrapping his free arm around himself but not removing his hand from Scott’s grasp. “I’m fine. I just don’t- I just don’t think about it, very much. That bit you saw, when she said-” he takes a deep breath, as if the next thing he’s saying takes a lot of power to conjure up- “when she said, ‘Jimmy’s always been a curious little b-bird,’ she used to say that a lot, and it’s-” his words all come out in a  rush now, and Scott knows the feeling- Jimmy’s just trying to rush all his emotions out before they consume him too much.

“It’s kind of ingrained in my memory,” he continues, looking down at the floor and gripping Scott’s hand so tight he thinks it might fall off. “I don’t know why, but she- her voice- it’s in my head, it won’t g-go away, it’s been a year and a half and now just at the most random intervals I’ll just hear- her- saying that thing and it’s so stupid because I didn’t even have it that bad, it’s not even the worst thing she would say, not by a long shot, b-but it felt- it feels-” Jimmy swallows, angrily swiping the tears from his eyes. 

“I ran away. I left. I shouldn't even be thinking of her, of that place, anymore but I can’t shake the feeling- and sometimes when I’m sleeping, I have d-dreams, it feels like I’m there, again, and she’s showing me to people through the window as if I’m some sort of exotic specimen, and I’m not, I’m just- just me- simple, stupid, trusting Jimmy- and there’s nothing special about me it’s just pure luck that it’s me she found. It’s m-my fault.”

Scott feels his mouth tighten and he wraps his free arm around Jim, the avian letting out a small, startled gasp before sinking into the hug, shaking from the memory while Scott shakes from rage. They stand like that for a long time, Scott not quite trusting himself to speak.

“I. Will. Murder. Her.” The words growl out of his mouth before he can stop them, glaring protectively over Jimmy’s shoulder, trying hard not to clench up and hurt the canary.

Jimmy looks up at him, surprised, moving his head from where it had been pressed to Scott’s chest. “W-what- but it was-”

“It was not your fault,” Scott says, anticipating Jim’s question and intercepting it before Jimmy can blink twice. “Where and when did she find you? Were you fucking kidnapped?” Scott can tell that he probably looks very scary right now, and he can feel his skin freezing up, see the frost beginning to creep over his shades.

“I- I was- well, from what she said, it was back when I was still an egg, back from wherever I came from. The way she told it, she found me, or, my egg, I guess, in a nest in a tree when she was on a hike in Borneo. She always s-said it was the smallest egg in the nest. Do you know what that implies? I have siblings, Scott. I have brothers and sisters and-” he has to stop talking for a minute, and Scott holds him closer, as if just by wrapping the avian in his arms, he could solve all Jimmy’s problems. “She said my parents were away, so she nabbed me out and took me for her own. She said she saved me.”

Scott is infuriated. He is beyond anger, he is beyond hatred, he is the pure embodiment of rage. He wants to murder this woman, he wants to mince her up into a pie and serve her to the sharks. “She did nothing of the sort. Any even half-decent person would know not to take an egg from an avian’s nest- your parents were probably foraging, do you even know your true name?!”

Jimmy looks up at him, surprised. “How do you know about true names? But yeah, I know. It’s kind of- well. I mean I’m not going to tell you what it is, at least not right now, sorry. But an avian’s true name- we just kind of know that instinctively, ever since we’re little.”

“Okay, good,” Scott says, though it’s just a small modicum of relief when compared to the magma that’s begun to flow through his veins instead of blood. “I know about the name thing because we did a unit on avians in Species Studies early last year, you know, before you came.” Jimmy mouths  silent “oh,” and then Scott realizes how tight he’s been holding the avian and how he’s probably very uncomfortable with this and-

He quickly releases Jimmy, pushing away from the canary quickly and slightly forcefully, hoping Jim doesn’t take offense. With a muttered “sorry,” from both of them, the awkwardness is back, and Scott almost curses. Every part of his body where Jimmy’s been now feels cold, even colder than usual, as if even his body is protesting the lack of the one he loves.

“So, movie,” Jimmy says, breaking the silence and turning back to the tea, hiding his face from Scott and obviously trying very hard to act like the whole memory thing hasn’t happened. Without looking, Jimmy slides Scott his bowl of chicken tikka masala down the counter, and Scott very nearly misses it. Luckily, he catches the bowl at the last second, and saves them both from the disaster of being lectured about the importance that things stay clean in John’s kitchen. “Out of the things you said, I think I’d be down for Soul the most, though I kind of want to watch HSMTMTS? If that’s okay with you?”

Scott barks a dry laugh, not quite ready to return to normal himself. HSMTMTS, or High School Musical: The Musical: The Series, is Jimmy’s favorite show, a high school soap opera kind of scene full of stupidity. But Scott follows Beks’ parents’ logic: if Jimmy loves it, by extension, Scott does as well. Or, he pretends to for Jimmy’s sake. “Sure, why not? Where were we at?”

“Um, I think it was- gimme a second to think.” Scott nods, passively observing how to anyone else, Jimmy would seem absolutely fine right now, you could never guess in a million years that he’d just had a breakdown- but Scott knows Jimmy well enough that he can see the little details, a slight shaking of his hands, the way his eyes dart fearfully back and forth, the subtle extent to which he’s drawn in his wings to his back.

How does he do it? How does Jimmy pretend everything’s fine when it’s not, when it’s actually fucking terrible and has been for a long time, how on Earth does he do it? Jimmy seems to possess a certain strength of character Scott’s always been lacking in, a willingness to keep going that’s so strong it’s almost a fault. It’s one of the things Scott loves and admires the most about the canary.

But also- Scott’s been so caught up in what he’s seen that he hasn’t thought about how- he remembers it had happened once at the movie theater, all those months ago- he’d forgotten. They’d shared a memory. As far as he’s aware, it’s only happened the two times- and both with Jimmy’s memory, and he’s pretty sure no one else had seen them either time, so it’s almost certainly a thing that’s just between him and Jim.

He supposes it has to be his siren heritage, because if he’s being honest, there’s no way it’s Jimmy’s doing. Scott loves the avian and all, but there’s no way he would have magic powerful enough to do that. 

He’s never thought he’s really gotten anything particularly siren-like from his mother, other than the cyan and ice (though ice isn’t really a siren trait, now that he thinks about it) so he’s never really felt like it’s very important for him to read up on sirens. He hasn’t learnt about them from school, either; they’ve never done a unit in Species Studies, and if he’s being honest he hasn’t really spent enough time with Mother to learn about siren things from her. 

So all Scott knows are the obvious things: sirens can sing, they have gorgeous voices that hypnotize the listeners, blah blah blah. He’s never heard anything about seeing other people’s memories, but he supposes it really doesn’t seem too far fetched at this point.

“Oh! I remember,” Jimmy calls from his perch on the counter, shaking Scott out of his theorizing with a start. “We were at the part where Seb is singing at Carlos’ quinceanera.”

“Were we?” Scott honestly can’t remember, it’s Jimmy’s favorite show, but it sure as hell isn’t Scott’s- he can barely follow the plot, and because they only watch HSMTMTS about once a month (Scott doesn’t know if he could stand watching it more often), it’s even more difficult to remember.

“Yep,” Jimmy says, gesturing for Scott to grab his tea as he heads to the basement. Scott does so, holding his bowl of masala in one hand and balancing the warm mug in the other, carefully plodding down the steps into the TV room.

Jimmy’s already sat down on the cushy marshmallow couch, and Scott joins him, placing his dishes on the coffee table and making sure he’s at least a foot away from the canary. He doesn’t want to make Jimmy uncomfortable.

The show starts off about as normal, pretty meh, just as Scott remembers it. Doldrum lovesick lives of typical teenagers, and because it’s a Disney show, of course they sing out their sorrows. But Jimmy loves it so he always puts up with it, because he has to pay back the avian in some way from letting him stay in his literal house, right?

And then something unexpected happens: Scott finds himself being sucked into the show, actually interested in something that until now, he’s been completely bored about. He starts genuinely watching as Seb sings a song for his boyfriend, Carlos, and of course Scott had known they were dating before, it’s one of the main plot points, but this is different-

It feels real.

It feels like him. He imagines himself up there, in the back of that tractor with that piano, singing to Jimmy. And then the song’s over and Carlos walks up and-

They’re kissing.

Two characters, in a live-action Disney show, are kissing. Scott finds his eyes drifting not-so-subtly to Jimmy, and then their hands are touching and it’s so close, so feasible, so possible that Scott can feel it and something’s about to happen and their heads are moving closer closer closer to each other, so close that Jimmy reaches out and his hand brushes momentarily against Scott’s cheek and yes yes yes Scott wants this-

A door slams from upstairs and Bek’s voice rings through the house. “Jimmy! Where are you?”

And the spell is broken, Scott shakes off the lavender haze and the rose-colored glasses, muttering a shallow apology under his breath but Jimmy doesn’t seem to hear it, he simply stands and walks upstairs, wings drawn tightly to his back, without so much as a backward glance. Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck. Scott tries to call out for him, tries to make him understand, but his voice isn’t working and it’s too late, all he can do is watch with horrified eyes as Jimmy walks away, and now it’s all over and Scott’s broken everything for a second time. And so the tears boiling behind his eyes leak out, sharp and biting against his cold skin.

Ice-cold.

[asteria-argo]

i can feel myself getting preemptively annoyed with some of the comments I might get on the next chapter of to all the better places and let me tell you it's making it really hard to write this chapter in peace

[waywardstation]

Brave anon asking the big questions and winning the best prizes T^T

Thank you for the extra snippet!! <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

In regards to this post

YES! Thank you anon who asked!! (And anon if you’re reading this, genuinely it meant a lot to hear you wanted to see more of my stuff. Thank you ;w;)

And thank you friend!!!!! So happy you enjoyed it!! I really have a lot that I want to post that I hope people will enjoy haha, just gotta get over the hill that is this 20k+ multi-chapter fic. I did not intend for it to get this big, or stuff it this full of important events!!

I’m very glad you appreciated it!! ^^ <3

[hecksupremechips]

The best feeling in the world is when there’s a piece of media you know you love and you’ve hyped it up as your favorite thing for so long but you haven’t revisited it in a while so you start to worry if it’s really as good as you make it out to be and so you go back and revisit it and it’s like. Oh this is even better than I remembered this shit rules

[grubbylilgoblin]

Think I was well right to miss this

[maladaptivedaydreamsx]

⚠️ Spoilers for Artem Wing's sweet chapter

[aberooski]

Okay I have enough fics and shit to write right now as it is, I currently have 4 in the works 🙃, but last night while I was trying to sleep I had a thought. I think I came up with a very baseline very bare bones idea for a possible OUAD 2.

A possible title for which I came up with was Once Upon A Kingdom OUAK if you will. And literally as I typed this out, Once Upon A Winter OUAW akskskskk and it would take place months after the events of OUAD, Chazz and Atticus are officially a couple now, and Atty takes him on a trip to see the Northern Kingdom or the Crystal Kingdom if ur in with the OUAD deep lore 👀 where he and Lexi are from and with Jay, Sy, and Hassleberry in tow, winter wonderland hijinks and capers ensue 👀

Now I have no idea what the actual greater plot would be but I really like the idea of visiting another kingdom since in the 'deep lore' there are 5 kingdoms that exist in the world, but since the Kingdom of the East was canonically destroyed by Slade and Jagger before the events of OUAD, there's still 3 other kingdoms outside the Golden Kingdom. The northern, western, and southern kingdoms if you will. The Golden Kingdom is the central kingdom. So we get to see more of the world, and open the door for more of the ensemble cast to get involved, I fully intend to include Jesse and Bastion at the very minimum if I wrote this I fully imagined a whole conversation with Jaden and Jesse last night, immortal magical fairy Jay gets to flirt with the cute human boy 👀 so I have thoughts happening ☺

Like I said I have no idea what an actual greater plot would look like yet and I have way too much to work on right now to put too much thought into it right now, but I promise babes. OUAD 2 may be on the back burner right now, but it is also very firmly on the table 😉

[lavenderyulu]

tl;dr its 3 am and this is related to that story im,,,,, technically still swinging between making and not making but i discovered the prism brush on firealpaca.

[spry-the-artist]

Finalized concept artwork ; Chapter 2 main enemy [name TBD | placeholder name BUTTERFLY]

In universe info: Green

The cartoony version hasn’t had many design changes (though this is the first coloured version) since April 2023 (date of creation), however the monster has gone through many changes. Current version is more similar to September 2023 version, though that version was more brutal (changed due to not making sense in-universe).

Current Entry (Written 2 months before the game):

Legs are intentionally short as the purpose of experimentation was to see how they would deal with wings and extra limbs, therefore mutilating legs would encourage subject to use wings. Findings: Appendages must be connected to nervous system, therefore spine, directly. Neurological modifications must be made so that subject may be able to use extra limbs. Must be careful, however, as it’s incredibly easy to damage the brain in such a way that the subject becomes akin to a wild animal. Hair seems to have started growing back, meaning we must find alternative methods in order to keep desired look. Status: Subject is now discarded due to no longer being viable, though its findings in the process of creating extra limbs are not in vain. Further experimentation is permitted

April 2022 designs:

Butterfly (comic):

Monster:

Sorry they messed up your top surgery, girlie