#taylor rust fanfic

[ipromiseimlying-blog1]

walking headfirst into august to be august-ed by my situationship

[thelonelybrilliance]

2023 Fanfic: TolkienGirl

Delighted to say that I wrote a mix of old and new this year! May 2024 bring the end of The Figurehead, some exciting new Silmarillion Gold Rush AU installments, and the reveal of a delightful project @mapleymood and I have been crafting!

You can find all relevant updates to the Silmarillion Gold Rush AU, "All That Glitters," here. Is it a wildly niche special interest? Yes. Is it wholly addictive for both readers and authors? Sure is! Go forth and prosper, 'tis your Manifest Destiny.

Otherwise...

Friday Night Lights:

Nostos - [Tyra, S5] In the grey, quiet hours spent packing up her things, Tyra can admit that there’s something bittersweet about the ease and uncertainty that go hand-in-hand in her new life. Turns out you can mix with other people pretty easily in the day-to-day, but the friendships don’t stick at the end of a semester; the end of a year.

doubt truth to be a liar - [Tyra, Pilot] It’s a quiet exodus, for ten thousand people. Sure, there’s the thunder of footsteps—the growl of city-like traffic, a town come alive for one night only—but that’s all. There’s no victory. The loss covers everything, heavy and silent as nightfall.

elemental - [Lyla v. Tyra, S2] Summer hits hot and heavy, no chance of rain. Thunderstorms crackle along the edges of the sky sometimes, but mostly, the sun just holds the whole world in its white-hot sway.

all the worst things in life come free to us - [Tyra, S1] Tyra isn’t easy, exactly—it’s just that life is hard.

holding the matches - [Lyla, S1] There were lines between all the lives you used to live, before Jason fell—classroom life, cheer life, school life, home life. Now there’s a secret life you can never bring into the light. Now, you have to consider the difference between little white lies and the kinds of sins that damn you.

the thief of joy - [Lyla, outsider POV, S1] The thing about Lyla Garrity...

a dim light far in the distance - [Matt, Pre-Series] Matt doesn’t know if he’s more than halfway decent at anything.

nothing that still bewildered - [Tyra & the Taylors, S1] Life’s been turned on its head, and now Tyra is corrupting wide-eyed Julie Taylor and feeling weirdly protective while she does it.

Red Rising:

either way, I forgot his name by heart - [Cassius & Julian, Pre-Series] Cassius is half a whole.

something warm roars at tonight's torn edge - [Darrow/Mustang, Red Rising] Here is how the balance between them settles: he catches her gaze, when she is hiding, and he lets her go. She finds him wounded, cut down by the one who seemed to love him like a brother, and she makes a home with him.

in the interest of truth - [Mustang & Victra, Iron Gold] Virginia will never let herself be too soft for any world. It is Mustang who has become weak—the girl who survived too stubbornly to ever truly learn wisdom.

deep worlds you lived before, deep worlds hereafter - [Roque & Mustang, post-Red Rising] “The question, I suppose, is whether one can love a man one does not understand.”

Teatime - [The Jackal, Morning Star] Your whispers, your offers, must seem gift-like. Before long, the rust-stained bastard will be wholly yours, body and mind. You don’t believe in souls.

born to raise the sons of earth - [Mustang & House Telemanus, Pre-Series -> Morning Star] She’s proven Eo right. And it wasn’t because of me. It wasn’t because of love. It was because it was the right thing to do, and because mighty Kavax was more a father to her than her own ever was.

The Summer I Turned Pretty:

even a river will die of thirst - [Jeremiah, S2] “You have so much love to give,” your mom says to you—at five, at seven, at sixteen. Maybe she’ll be saying it when you’re forty. You try to imagine your mom old, with white hair and wrinkles, carrying the years like wisdom. You can never quite picture it.

till forever falls apart - [Jeremiah, post-S1] They’re going to bury your light with her.

a reminder that all mistakes are not reversible - [Jeremiah, S1] Being a Fisher is a closed-door affair.

we possess nothing certainly (except the past) - [Jeremiah, Pre-Series] Conrad comes home early on a Tuesday, and just like, the world turns upside down again.

my name a past tense (where I left my hands for good) - [Jeremiah, S2] You’ve gotten everything off your chest, which leaves your heart exposed. It sucks, coming in second place all your life.

Stranger Things:

The Figurehead - [Stancy, speculative S5] When the first flakes of living ash begin to fall, Steve isn’t ready. He’s never ready. That’s not what counts.

to the young who want to die - [Steve, S4] You don’t get used to the end of the world; you get used to the time it takes the apocalypse to actually get on with it. 

Lockwood & Co.:

Convalescence - [End of S1] Lockwood assures them that the pain is nothing, and more importantly, “They’re letting me keep the bullet.”

more heaven than a heart could hold (an exquisite extreme, I know) - Lucy considers all the contradictions that make up A. Lockwood.

Captain America: The Winter Soldier:

among the vanishing - [Steve & Bucky] How can you give what was never yours?

Middlemarch:

much ambition and an irrepressible hopefulness - [Mary Garth/Fred Vincy] Mary could not refuse a proposal he had not made, and she could not urge one that she did not believe herself able to accept.

And a fun little update to @mapleymood and my other project, Still Life!

[reira-layla]

I got the greatest idea for a SuguShoko fanfic after listening to Better Man by Taylor Swift. 😭

I’m gonna start working on it once I post chapter 23 of Rust & Stardust.

[jimmyjrsmusoems]

bob’s burgers characters as songs from taylor swift’s “midnights”

in honor of the lavender haze music video...here is my list of bob’s characters as midnights tracks!! (if someone has done this already oops i am sorry!!) (also these are just my opinion!!! if you believe differently i’d love to hear what songs you’d match to each character!!!) (this is my first time adding a cut to a post i hope it works)

track 1 - lavender haze : courtney wheeler

 “talk your talk and go viral, i just need this love spiral”

this song is really fun and cute and hello??? lavender??? i also just love courtney a lot and i can see her loving this song

track 2 - maroon : jimmy pesto jr. + tina belcher

“the rust that grew between telephones, the lips i used to call home - so scarlet, it was maroon”

honestly this one kind of stumped me but also gave me older tina x jimmy jr. vibes soooo

track 3 - anti-hero : bob belcher

“it must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero”

hello!!!! this song is so bob!!!! 

track 4 - snow on the beach (feat. lana del rey) : jocelyn

“and it’s fine to fake it til you make it, til you do, til it’s true”

this song just gives me huuuuge jocelyn vibes 

track 5 - you’re on your own, kid : tina belcher

“i wait patiently, he’s gonna notice me - it’s okay, we’re the best of friends”

this song!!!!! is so tina!!!!!! i am convinced taylor was watching bob’s burgers when she wrote this

track 6 - midnight rain : linda belcher (ALSO MY FAVE TRACK)

“he wanted a bride, i was making my own name, chasing that fame, he stayed the same, all of me changed like midnight”

linda leaving hugo for bob???? hello???? (also if anyone saw the tik tok that was bob’s burgers couples as midnight rain.....hi that was me on my personal account lol)

track 7 - question...? : tammy larsen 

“and what’s that that i heard? that you’re still with her? that’s nice, i’m sure that’s what’s suitable”

honestly could not think of anyone else and this song is pretty snarky lol

track 8 - vigilante shit : louise belcher

“don’t get sad, get even”

pure vibes. that is all

track 9 - bejeweled : gene belcher

“best believe i’m still bejeweled, when i walk in the room, i can still make the whole place shimmer”

gene. my precious sagittarius boy. it just fits

track 10 - labyrinth : zeke + tina belcher

“you would break your back to make me break a smile”

i was so inspired by the zekina-ness of this song when i first heard it that i named my fanfic after it *sobbing*

track 11 - karma : susmita

“sweet like honey, karma is a cat purring in my lap ‘cause it loves me”

i couldn’t think of anyone else, susmita stays in her own lane, karma is her boyfriend

track 12 - sweet nothing : linda + bob

“and the voices that implore, “you should be doing more”, to you i can admit that i’m just too soft for all of it”

i couldn’t not put this song for them. “you’re in the kitchen humming” and i’m sobbing

track 13 - mastermind : millie frock 

“the planets and the fates and all the stars aligned - you and i ended up in the same room at the same time” 

i was going to put louise for this one but honestly. it fits millie better

BONUS TRACK:

track 16 - paris : gene belcher  + alex papasian + courtney wheeler

“i’m so in love that i might stop breathing, drew a map on your bedroom ceiling”

i couldn’t not have a gac pack song 

this was honestly so fun and i would love to do this for more taylor albums lol

[inastrangerskiss]

stitches

Tyler Rust x Reader

content warning: simply just fluff literally nothing else besides maybe 2% angst

summary: tyler comes home with a wound from a match

a/n: i wrote this before he was released no I will not be changing his name

Tyler laid with his head across your lap. His eyes were focused on the television but you could tell he was barely clinging to consciousness. His golden hair was sprawled out behind him, creating delicate waves against your body. As you ran your fingers through the tawny locks he leaned into your touch like a contented cat.

There was a deep, burgundy and violet wound just below his eye, running down the length of his cheekbone. Black stitches were roughly sewn along the injury. You hadn’t expected him to come home like that.

You understood his job and the career path he had chosen. You understood it meant sometimes he got injured and sometimes he would bleed. He had come home with broken legs and ankles. Not very often but often enough that it wasn’t really anything more than a nuisance for you. But occasionally it would take you by surprise. He always tried to call you after the matches, to let you know how it went, to let you know if something had happened but sometimes he forgot. Sometimes he’d come home with a black eye or a laceration or a brace attached to a joint and it would catch you off guard.

That’s what happened yesterday.

The evening had crept along as you waited for him to return home. You tried to forget the nightmare of a day you had endured by losing yourself in the pasta sauce bubbling on the stove. You knew Tyler would be home soon and the tension would truly melt away the moment he had his arms wrapped around you.

The door opened and closed. A bag hit the floor.

“Hey, darling. I’m home.” He called out into the house.

“I’m in the kitchen.”

You could hear his footfalls approaching, his arms wrapping around your waist. He buried his head in the crook of your neck and took a deep breath before pressing a kiss to your shoulder. You smiled. He was home. Home and safe. Sharing the same space, breathing the same air as you.

“I’m gonna need you to sew my trunks. They got a little torn on the side last night.”

You nodded. You hadn’t gotten to see the match but mending his gear was commonplace for you. You could feel him relax against you and it gave you a sense of peace. Gently, you brought a hand behind you and ruffled his hair. You ran that hand down his cheek and felt him wince. The rough texture was strange and not at all what you had expected to encounter.

This caused you to turn. And there it was. The stitches. The bruising.

“What happened?” You had asked, a hand falling to your hip.

“Nothing. Just took a kick wrong.”

It wasn’t nothing. It was a massive wound that had clearly required the help of doctors to ensure its proper healing. A massive wound that had probably bled a lot. A massive wound that you weren’t there to worry about in the moment. And there was something about that that hurt you.

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“It was late. I didn’t want to wake you up when I figured I could tell you about it now.” His voice was gentle but it still upset you. He took your hand in his and he held it with the utmost care. “It’s fine though. Just a little cut, that’s all.”

It sat with you though. It was difficult to spend so much time apart and it was even more difficult to know there might be times where he got hurt and you wouldn’t know.

You weren’t able to enjoy dinner with the stitches staring back at you and you felt horrible that you couldn’t look past them to enjoy the night. You became withdrawn and decided against laying on the couch with him, opting to go to bed early instead. He found you curled up on your side, your eyes open and scrolling through social media. He leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed. You were acting like a child but he still had a patient smile curling the corners of his mouth.

“Not gonna talk to me?” He asked.

“I’m just tired.” It was a lie and you knew it was and he knew it was but he tolerated it.

“I guess I’m tired too, then.” He shrugged, crawling in beside you.

You didn’t make a move, disinterested in breaking down the frustrated and begrudging wall you had built. But it meant nothing to him, his arms reaching around your side, pulling you closer. He peppered your shoulder with kisses, running them up your neck, to your cheek and back down again. You had to force yourself not to smile.

“Why’re you upset with me?” His voice was calm and kind.

“Why didn’t you tell me you got hit like that?”

“I told you. I figured I’d tell you when I got back here. No reason to make you worry when it was just a silly bump.”

“The guy could’ve taken your eye out.” You muttered into the pillow, your phone now down by your side.

Tyler brought the arm that originally lay against your waist, up and across your chest, as if it were a seatbelt holding you safely for the ride.

“But he didn’t.”

You didn’t say anything. He was also silent, the only sound between the two of you being rhythmic breathing. Finally, he let out a small sigh and relented in a way that was almost unnoticeable. You couldn’t feel it in his body or his arms but in his presence itself.

“Listen.” He turned you towards him and you unhappily felt your body roll accordingly to face the man you loved. “Sometimes this stuff happens. But it's okay. I’m safe. Nothing bad will happen to me.”

“It might one day.” You blurted out, your true feelings suddenly on display.

“It won’t.” His voice was firm and resolute. “As long as I’ve got you waiting for me at home I’ll always be coming back to you in one piece.”

He found your hands mixed in with the sheets and the duvet and laced his fingers through yours. He didn’t look you in the eyes right away, more focused on this moment of touch than anything else. When he did bring his gaze to meet yours it was clear, in spite of the darkness. His eyes were a gentle plea with you, asking you to understand he meant everything he said.

“I won’t let anything hurt me.” He murmured. “Only I can control that and I will for you.”

You waited a moment before allowing a small nod. A small acceptance of him, stitches and all.

So, there you sat. An evening removed from his return to the home you shared, his head on your lap, your hand in his hair. Occasionally, you took breaks from combing your hand through his locks to focus on finishing sewing the tear in his trunks.

With each movement of your needle, you brought them back together, into one whole piece. Back into one contiguous cloth, one unbroken garment.

Tyler looked up at you and sleepily smiled. You smiled back.

Back into one whole piece.

[memxntomxri]

𝒫𝑜𝓅𝓅𝒾𝑒𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒫𝑒𝑜𝓃𝒾𝑒𝓈

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ | ʜᴏᴍᴇ

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 - past!sawamura daichi x sugawara koushi, sawamura daichi x kuroo tetsurou

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 - angst

𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘤 - and now, in the aftermath, all koushi can smell is poppies and peonies, drowning him in their scent

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 - 2.1k

𝘵𝘸 - major character de@th, implied h0mophobia, hanahaki disease, no happy ending, break-up, sam misusing taylor swift songs, so much angst

𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴 - this is the result of a lot of inspiration screaming in a Discord server. thanks emmy (Noisy_Emmy on ao3), lou (LouEve_094 on ao3) and lena 🤍 also like alskejfljlvkjlkwejkj taylor and daisuga angst together???

also daichi is horrible here but he isn't actually like that istg. i just needed him to be asshole-ish for maximum angst purposes. the timeline's also weird af but i gave up halfway through trying to make it logical lol.

song lyrics credit to august by our queen taylor swift!

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

salt air and the rust on your door

I never needed anything more

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Looking back, Koushi should have seen the signs.

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

When they met in first year, the first thing that Koushi had noticed had been Daichi's warm smile. It was reassuring and steadfast, like someone reaching out and telling Koushi "I'm here." And when they stood together on court, Koushi felt invincible, because Daichi was there, a silent pillar that pushed him up, up, upwards.

It was all too easy to fall. Daichi was reassuring, always there, attractive, kind, and before Koushi knew it, he was in love.

He kept it to himself at first, of course. Koushi didn't even know if Daichi swung his way. And, well, he was just... scared. Scared to lose the friendship they had built. Scared to lose their dynamic on the court. Scared to, ultimately, lose Daichi.

whispers of "are you sure?"

"never have i ever before"

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Looking back, Koushi should have never dived off that cliff.

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

During summer break in their third year, after they had beat Shiratorizawa and were preparing to go to Nationals, Koushi dropped by Daichi's house often. It was natural, of course. They were "best friends", after all, even though one was hopelessly in love with the other.

Longing stares became lingering touches became staying over became-

"I really like you, Daichi."

"Mmhm."

A soft, tentative kiss.

"Are you sure about this, Suga?"

"Yes, Daichi. Stop being such a worrywart."

Foreheads pressed together.

"I'm sure about you."

Soft, soft enough that Koushi's ears don't pick up on it, "But I'm not sure about you."

but I can see us lost in the memory

august slipped away into a moment in time

'cause it was never mine

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Looking back, Koushi should have let go.

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

They were happy together. It was like being best friends, but with kisses and cuddles and more. Koushi didn't know when he had ever been this happy. The memories were like gilded gold to him, things he never wanted to let go of. He was giddy every time he remembered that Daichi's soft smiles, fond in their demeanor, were for him.

Even if his eyes were a little distant at times.

and I can see us twisted in bedsheets

august sipped away like a bottle of wine

'cause you were never mine

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Looking back, Koushi should have known better.

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

One night, when they were curled up together in Daichi's bedroom, AC whirring and a few cans of cheap beer left forgotten and discarded by Daichi's bed, sated and content, Koushi's tongue slipped.

"I love you, Daichi."

A sleepy murmur.

He didn't feel the man against his back stiffening.

"O-Oh, okay, Suga."

Even after all that they had done, he was still Suga, never Koushi.

Daichi was probably just shy.

If he had known that this would be the beginning of the end, Koushi would have never let himself be so careless.

your back, beneath the sun

wishing I could write my name on it

will you call when you’re back at school?

I remember thinking I had you

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Looking back, Koushi should have been more careful.

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

When they returned to school, Daichi acted like everything was like it had been before summer break. Koushi was confused, but it was surely only Daichi trying to protect them. They still lived in the Japanese countryside, after all.

And it wasn’t as if Daichi stopped seeing him or anything! It was just… less time together. But they were third years trying to win Nationals, it was natural for this to happen.

but I can see us lost in the memory

august slipped away into a moment in time

‘cause it was never mine

and I can see us twisted in bedsheets

august sipped away like a bottle of wine

‘cause you were never mine

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Looking back, Koushi should have stood up for himself.

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Quick makeout sessions in the clubroom, some heavy petting, a brush of pinkies against each other in the hallway - that was all that Koushi had left of the Daichi he had known in the summer.

A soft smile.

Undivided attention.

A warm embrace.

Oh, how he longed for them now.

back when we were still changing for the better

wanting was enough

for me it was enough

to live for the hope of it all

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Looking back, Koushi should have run.

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Daichi was pulling away, but Koushi convinced himself that he wasn't. Sure, in the deepest, darkest parts of him, he knew that he was losing the dark-haired man, but Koushi forced himself to stay in the moment. Daichi was probably just stressed out from studying and the responsibility of being a captain, right?

After all, Koushi loved Daichi, and Daichi… well, even if Daichi didn’t exactly love him yet, he still cared for him. Deeply.

Right?

cancel plans just in case you’d call

and say “meet me behind the mall”

so much for summer love and saying “us”

‘cause you weren’t mine to lose

you weren’t mine to lose

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Looking back, Koushi should have seen the warning signs.

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Koushi sat on the bench, fingers anxiously drumming on his thigh. He was in the park behind the mall they went to every Saturday together to get food and window shop. (Well, Koushi shopped, Daichi gave opinions.) Where was Daichi? Koushi had flaked on a family outing with his cousins who were visiting from Kanto so that they could spend time together, but Daichi was nowhere to be found.

Koushi checked his phone again. It was already 1PM, and his last sent text, left on read at 11:30AM, glared back at him.

Slowly, Koushi picked himself up from his seat. It was fine, something had probably just come up.

Three hours later, his phone pinged. Koushi lunged for the device, nearly knocking his desk lamp over.

Daichi 💗: hey suga, sorry for not making it.

No explanation, just a halfhearted apology.

Koushi set his phone back down.

but I can see us lost in the memory

august slipped away into a moment in time

‘cause it was never mine

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Looking back, Koushi should have never left his house that day.

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Koushi skipped up Daichi’s driveway, intent on spending some time with him that afternoon. He knocked twice, face lighting up when Daichi opened the door, looking adorable in his casual clothes.

“O-oh, uh, Suga - what do you need?” He seemed nervous.

Koushi frowned. “Daichi, I sent you a text half an hour ago saying I was coming over. Did you not get it?”

“Oh, yeah - I-” Daichi mumbled.

Someone came up behind him, slinging an arm over his shoulders. It was the rooster-headed captain from Nekoma. Koushi’s frown deepened. Why was he here and why was he touching Daichi like that?

“Oh! Vice captain-san! Daichi didn’t mention you would be coming over!” he greeted.

Koushi’s heart stuttered. Of course. It all made sense. The stares that went on for a little too long, the lingering handshakes, the too-friendly competition. The only thing he was still confused about was where he fit into the entire thing. He bowed stiffly. “Kuroo-san. Um, Daichi…” he turned to him. “Can I talk with you for a bit?”

Daichi nodded, and he turned to Kuroo. “Just keep playing the movie, I’ll be back soon.”

He followed Koushi down the road, silence falling between the two who had always had something to laugh about together.

Koushi licked his lips nervously. “D-Did we ever mean anything?” he asked softly.

Daichi sighed. “We never were something, Suga.”

“W-what?” Koushi couldn’t find it himself to say anything else.

Daichi exhaled, long and low. “Suga, we were a fun distraction,” hairline fractures in his heart, “for a bit, but it was never something serious.”

Chips began flaking off.

“B-but I love you!” Emphatic and frantic, trying to make Daichi understand.

Another sigh, this one a little frustrated. “I don’t know what this is, but it isn’t love, Suga. You need to open your eyes.”

Koushi stopped in the middle of the road.

“So this is it, huh?” he said, his heart finally breaking into shattered fragments.

“Yeah. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” and with that, Daichi walked away.

The flowers came that night, red and pink, like the blood that stained them.

and I can see us twisted in bedsheets

august sipped away like a bottle of wine

‘cause you were never mine

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Looking back, Koushi should have guarded his heart better.

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Koushi deteriorated fast.

Within a week, he could no longer play volleyball.

Within two, his mother had found out.

Within two and a half, he had refused the surgery, a legal adult now.

Koushi would not lose his ability to love, even if it killed him.

Within a month, he was in the hospital.

but do you remember?

remember when I pulled up and said "get in the car"

and then canceled my plans just in case you'd call?

back when I was living for the hope of it all, for the hope of it all

"meet me behind the mall"

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Looking back, Koushi’s last days were placid.

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

The memories were painful to look back on, of course. But at the same time, Koushi recalled their moments together fondly. Even if it had ended in an inferno with his heart as collateral damage, his time with Daichi had also been the warmest sunlight.

He knew he was going to die. Everyone around him was confused as to why he didn’t just let them cut out the roots in his lungs, and along with them his ability to love, but they didn’t know what it felt like to be in love, rushing down the path, breathless, overjoyed, free.

Koushi would die before he let that feeling slip away from him, bittersweet as it was.

His flowers were poppies and peonies. Death, love and honor, he mused. Fitting, for his and Daichi’s story. Death was imminent, love was unrequited, and Daichi had turned out to be a man of dishonor, abandoning him.

Koushi supposed that Daichi would get what he “deserved” one day, too, even though his heart hurt for the man, still caring about the brunette even though he had stomped on his heart. He’d noticed how Kuroo looked at Nekoma’s setter, and he knew that like him, Daichi would only ever be a replacement.

It was heartbreakingly intriguing how fate came around back to itself.

remember when I pulled up and said "get in the car"

and then canceled my plans just in case you'd call?

back when I was living for the hope of it all

for the hope of it all

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Looking back, Koushi still had something to say.

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

The steady beeping of the heart monitor was interrupted as the sound of the opening of his hospital door filled the room.

Daichi stepped through, and the fragments of Koushi’s heart skipped a little.

“Suga.” he greeted, seemingly uncomfortable. After all, what were you supposed to say to your ex-nothing who you were currently killing slowly, even if it was involuntary?

“Daichi.”

“U-um… How have you been?” he asked.

“As well as can be expected, I suppose.” Koushi replied wearily. Breathing had become a labor in and of itself, and he was having oxygen pumped into his failing lungs. “Why are you here?” he deadpanned.

Daichi at least had the wherewithal to look ashamed. “I came to apologize. I did you wrong, Suga. Please just get the surgery. You’re still my best friend-”

“Stop.” Koushi held a hand up weakly. “You broke my heart, Daichi. These are the consequences, and I’m not going to forgive you just to assuage your guilt. You can’t expect sorry to fix everything.” Daichi’s face revealed a storm of emotions.

Koushi sighed. “Please just go…” he mumbled quietly.

Daichi nodded, and as fast as he had arrived, he was gone.

Those were the last words Koushi ever spoke to anyone.

for the hope of it all,

for the hope of it all

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

Looking back, Koushi was at peace.

*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*

“Sugawara Koushi, age 18, died of suffocation from roots in his lungs on August 13th, 2012 at 22:08. The cause of death was Hanahaki disease, and it seems like his affliction was sped along by a visitation by its subject, and Sugawara-san was struck with a violent attack. Resuscitation efforts were unsuccessful.”

- Excerpt from the notes of Dr. Hayato Ayame

Finally, in death, Koushi was letting go.

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

© ʙᴇᴛʜᴇʏᴅᴏᴄʀɪᴍᴇᴡʀɪᴛᴇꜱ 2021 - ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛ

[extremelyblackandwhite]

august

pairing: sheriff lee bodecker x younger! reader

warnings: cheating, age gap

a/n: i wanted to write this chapter to show how y/n’s and lee’s affair began and to show how y/n shaped lee or his point of view. this song is mostly based off august from taylor swift (bc we all know at this point that i’ll just write fanfics based of any folklore/evermore songs) and war of hearts from ruelle. this one is not smut, the next one (illicit affairs) is gonna be.  additionally, i’ve come to the conclusion that knockemstiff y/n dressed like betty draper and after-knockemstiff y/n dresses likes meg draper and that is canon. btw if you’re interested in what she’s wearing in this chapter here [x] p.s.: lee’s not captain yet in this chapter

> ILLICIT AFFAIRS

Salt air and the rust on your door, I never needed anything more. Whispers of are you sure? Never have I ever before. But I can see us lost in the memory, August slipped away into a moment in time ‘cause it was never mine

August was an odd month this year; the godless and sunless town was going through the biggest heatwave anyone could remember. Most habitants were in the parks and outside their homes in plastic chairs enjoying the heat, however, in Y/N’s house, they were baking apple pies with the apples leftover from the little apple tree farm they had a bit south from the town centre. Y/N had suggested they just gave away the apples but her grandmother, ever the traditional woman, believed the best way to show appreciation would be to bake something. “It shows you care, Y/N” as if she cared about anyone in this god forbidden town. She couldn’t wait to pack her bags and go to the big city where she can be something other than a trophy wife. Besides, it wasn’t like there were any available suitable husband options around. 

She wiped the flour out of her forehead as she placed the last pie in the oven. 24 pies, surely that would account for a high electricity bill at the end of the month. Not that it mattered anyway, her grandmother could more than afford it after all she was the woman right now sat at the kitchen table, giving out plates as if they cost nothing. 

     - Y/N, sweetheart, can you go and deliver the pie on the living room. It’s already cold and I don’t want it to go stale.

     - Yeah, sure. 

     - To Captain Bodecker’s house. Promised Jane I’d send her one. 

     - Captain Bodecker’s? But that’s in town. - she scratched her elbows. She’d rather not go to Captain Bodecker’s house yet again he probably wasn’t even around, always busy in the station. - Can I take the car?

     - It’s a 20 minute walk, it’s sunny outside and you’re young. Save on gas.

     - But ...

     - Y/N, you better be outside with that pie in 5 seconds or we’ll have a problem. - she interrupted.

Y/N sighed, unlacing the back of her apron and placing it on the hook. Just great, that’s all she needed today, to walk to the town centre to deliver one of the pies she had just spent the whole morning preparing. She guessed it could’ve been worse, she could’ve had to go deliver it to the police station then Captain Bodecker would’ve definitely been there. It wasn’t that she disliked him, quite the opposite. Back when she volunteered at the precinct he was the only one who was nice to her or at least the only one who wouldn’t try to put his hand under her skirt. He’d even memorised her name which not even the Sheriff who had hired her knew, to this day whenever he saw her he still called her Bella. He was nice to her and she couldn’t say she hadn’t developed a little school girl crush on him, despite the fact he was married. He’d even stood up for her when her manager started screaming at her. Nevertheless, she couldn’t stand being in his presence, feeling like whatever she said would get her in trouble. His wife wasn’t someone she enjoyed either; Jane Bodecker was known for having quite the sharp gossiping tongue. Most of her friends commented their “men friends” would comment how she used to have quite the reputation while at high school and whenever she saw her at the shop, she’d always call her Little Miss Perfect or make some side comment about how she was occupying a job that someone else needed. Still, Y/N could deal with Jane, a little smile, a nod and she was ready to deal with the devil.

The sun scorched her skin as she walked her last minutes til the Bodecker residence. It was a nice home, recently painted with some nice flowers in the front garden yet there were rumours of Captain Bodecker wanting to move to Brewer Heights. Y/N didn’t know how she’d react if during her morning walks she passed by him, so she counted it only as rumours. Standing in front of the red door, she held the pie in one hand and knocked against it with the other one. She stood there waiting for someone to come in until footsteps made her wake up from her dream-like state and prepare to deal with Jane. However, as the door open, a familiar silhouette had her heart racing. 

    - Y/N, what brings you here? - she watched him dressed in casual clothing, something she barely saw if she had ever seen; jeans and a white t-shirt. 

   - Captain Bodecker ... I ... I was looking for your wife. My grandmother sent this. - she held up the pie in front of her.  - She said Mrs. Bodecker wanted one. 

   - Jane’s ... out. Come in. - he opened the door wider for her but she remained in the same place like a statue. - Come on, it’s too hot out. Don’t want no fainting lass complains on my day off. ‘Sides, don’t you want a slice of pie?

   - I really shouldn’t.

   - You can say no if you want to. No need to be afraid of me, Y/N. - he leaned against the doorframe. - Thank you for the pie, though. 

   - I guess I can stay a bit. - she tucked a bit of hair behind her ear. Lee couldn’t help but shamelessly check her out as she walked inside his home. It was no secret she was a beautiful woman, heck, Lee thought her to be the prettiest little thing to ever arrive into town, with her sunny smile and pretty dresses. This one was no different, lavender which complimented her so well with a little white rope tied around her waist into a bow, like a little present. Nevertheless, he kept it under wraps he was a married man besides every man in town shamelessly harassed her, despite the side eye he gave them.

He watched as the fabric of her dress swung with the movement of her hips. Lee surely didn’t expect such a pretty girl to walk into his home, had he known he would’ve made an effort to fix the mess that was his house. Normally Jane tended to keep that sorted as he usually spent the day and night at work, but with her staying with her mother after their last fight. It wasn’t anything new, she always did that whenever they fought and then would return after Lee made a fool of himself by begging her to return and that he was wrong during the fight. Still, she placed the pie on his kitchen table with a gentleness and posture which mirrored her privileged upbringing. He couldn’t lie and say his mind hadn’t wandered around how she would look when she eventually got married, after all that was the future of all Knockemstiff women. He also couldn’t lie and say he hadn’t wondered how she would look as his wife. She was sweet, with a sharp mind which definitely had not been appreciated in the precinct. Despite this, productivity seemed to raise whenever she called out any officers who had their feet on top of their desks instead of doing paperwork. He still remembered having to always keep an eye on her, were any officers to get too rowdy with her. Yet, she didn’t care and she held herself and believed herself to deserve the same respect as every working man in Knockemstiff. Although he imagined how she would be as a wife, he had to admit he couldn’t see her ever being some Knockemstiff’s man’s wife and with the example from her grandmother, she was surely on the path to be a rebellion starter. 

    - Big fan of apple pie, Y/N?

    - My grandmother refuses to sell the apples so instead I woke up at 6AM and have been baking apple pies nonstop. She says it shows I care. 

     - Never thought you to be found of Knockemstiff residents. 

     - And I am not. - she spoke as if the mere thought of it offended her.  - She said she promised Jane one. 

     - Don’t think Jane will be back for a while. - he leaned against the kitchen door, watching her place the pie onto his kitchen table. - You can take half that pie, if you want.

    - Trust me, I have my share of apple pie at home. - she folded her hands on top of her stomach. - Uhm ... Do you want me to cut you a slice of pie? I normally take mine with a bit of vanilla ice cream on top. It’s gorgeous, the warmth of the pie and the cold of the ice cream. You should try it?

    - You’re just full of ideas, aren’t ya? - he sat on the wooden chair as she sliced the pie to the best of her abilities. - Shouldn’t you be at university, or someth’ng? 

    - Well, grandma had the stroke and she’s not as motile as she used to be. I’ve been taking some classes at Ohio University but it’s not the same, it’s ...

    - It’s not the big city, ain’t it? - he added. 

    - It’s not that I dislike Knockemstiff, Captain ...

    - Yeah you do. - he interrupted her. - Just don’t let the Sheriff hear it. He already ain’t too found of ya. 

    - Nobody in that precinct liked me. - she rolled her eyes. - Well, they did but I did not like them in that way. 

    - I liked ya. Whenever you screamed at Leroy it always made my day. 

    - Leroy’s the most incompetent person I know. All he does is pimp girls out as if he discovered prostitution. I feel sorry for the girls. 

    - He does a good service.

    - Of course you’d know. - she pushed her hair away from her shoulders, feeling the sweat roll down her neck. God it was, too hot. Lee furrowed his brown, laying the fork onto the porcelain plate. She caught his look, brow raising over in a playful, smug kind of way, before she laid her hands on the table. - I’ve seen it before. 

     - You’ve seen it before?

     - Don’t worry, I didn’t see IT, but I saw Jenny get in the car with you just after graduation. I know what she does, she would call me all the time whenever Leroy was being an ass. 

     - Oh ...

     - Don’t worry, I’m not gonna say anything. Everyone in this town cheats, mostly because everyone in this town marries someone just because they think that will save them from Hell. No one is saved if they’re born in Knockemstiff, not even me. 

     - You mean to tell me you’ve done bad things, Y/N? ‘Cause I don’t believe it.

     - I’ve never done it but I’ve thought bad things. All the time. - her gaze lowered from his face to his waist before returning back to his eyes. It was a millisecond gaze, something she herself knew but he didn’t notice, no matter how observant he was. There were no perfect men in Knockemstiff, but in Y/N’s mind he was her perfect man. After all, there are no perfect men anywhere, even Saints sin and then die heroically to get into heaven. Y/N would rather sin than die for people who would’ve had her accidentally killed many times if it weren’t for her grandmother’s name and status in town. What’s the fun in being good? Every time she was good she got yelled at, someone put her hand under her skirt or tried to pin her against a wall. She was good, she would just rather sin so people wouldn’t taint her goodness. It’s a question of self preservation, at least that’s what she told herself. 

    - That doesn’t make you bad. If so there wouldn’t be good people.

    - There are no good people. - she added, ever the negative person she was, something she had inherited from her mother and which everyone who knew her could trace back to. - All people are born so they could be buried. Everything you do ... in a 100 years they won’t remember everything and all that be left of you is your burial site. That’s your legacy. 

    - Such negative views for someone who wants out of Knockemstiff. I thought you’d have a better outlook on things.

    - I’m never getting out of here. - she sighed, almost used to the idea that she was going to stay no matter how long she fought it. - I’m gonna die here. 

    - Dying ain’t so bad. - he leaned against his chair. Y/N smiled at him, looking around his home. It was messy yes but it was still a good home yet that wasn’t what she noticed. Looking out the window, she saw a built in pool. She didn’t remember hearing the Captain had a pool. Sure, he had a the better salary compared to everyone else in town except for the Sheriff, Mayor, and her grandmother. Yet she had never heard of him having a pool, not even she had one. 

    - You have a pool? 

    - Yeah, built it back when Sandy used to come over to wind up from the dinner job. She’s married now so I don’t think she wants a pool at her big brother’s home anymore. 

   - I don’t think anyone in town has a pool. - she rose from her chair and walked to the window in a lavender rush. - It’s gorgeous.

   - You can come over whenever you want, Y/N. 

   - Can I go now? - she looked over her shoulder to him. The idea of being able to swim while the boiling august heat continued to shine down onto the hellish town. Somehow it made sense yet it didn’t. Lee cocked his head to the side, wondering if he’d misheard her words or if she was really considering swimming into his pool. Unwanted feeling stirred south of him and he punished himself mentally for imagining the lavender flower girl in such ways.

    - Well, uh ... you don’t have a swimming costume. - he babbled like a confused, stunned child.

    - I can swim on my undergarments. It’s pretty much a lace embroidered swimming costume. - Lee merely nodded, not knowing exactly what to do but knowing he was flirting with sin, looking at an abysses and seeming not to fear that he was going straight into it. 

Y/N walked from the window up to the kitchen door which led over to the garden. The once white door had withered with time, turning slightly yellowish with rust on the borders, the glass of the small see through windows cracked yet remaining its shape. The door seemed to be a small reminder of what was still wrong in the Captain’s life but she chose not to dwell over it, no to think about it. She felt the cobblestones against her feet covered by an old pair of white ballerina slips as her mirrored image became clear in the crystalline pool water. 

Lee on the other hand watched like a hawk, from the rusted door he’d broken so many bottles of liquor against, as her lavender fabric fell to the dirty cobblestones. The contrast of the prim expensive dress against the cobblestones which had aged as badly as he had done was telling. At least it was telling enough for him and he wondered if this was a gift from God or if the devil was toying with him. The devil is in the details, his mother used to say, yet as she emerged from the water, hands pulling down her hair, he was almost entirely sure the devil was the girl in his pool, the same girl who had worn white dresses until her 18th birthday. Yet again, the devil was once an angel and to him, she was closer to becoming a fallen one than continuing to wear shades of white. 

    - You don’t swim, captain? - she asked as she swam to the border of the pool. 

    - I don’t enjoy doing it. - he stayed glued to the door, a good distance from her to ensure he didn’t get tempted. - You gonna just swim around like a mermaid, huh?

    - It’s better in the water than on the cobblestones, I tell ya. - she dipped into the water once again only to return to the surface, water droplets rolling down from her plump skin. - Come on, captain. You’re gonna leave me swimming by my lonesome? During the hottest day in Knockemstiff?

    - You’re a trouble stirrer. 

    - Maybe I’m just bored. - she smiled at him. He knew she wasn’t tempting him, he knew Y/N. She liked to tease around, she enjoyed the freedoms which she imposed onto herself and as such she was much different from the women he knew. Not that he knew any women outside of Knockemstiff. He’d been born and raised here and all the women he saw from out of Knockemstiff were on his television screen. - Come on, Captain. It’s your pool. 

    - I don’t want you to see my belly.

   - I don’t care, besides, if it’s that bad then come into your clothing. - her arms rested upon the pool border, wondering eyes tempting even the saint of all saints. Lee looked at the cold water reflecting the afternoon sunlight beams, trying to avoid the thoughts that crossed his mind before turning around. He let his jean trousers pool to the ground along with his shoes before entering the water using the ladder. He was almost sure he’d make her laugh if he were to jump into the water. 

The water was cold and dripped from his skin in crystal like drops. Y/N offered him a playful smile, swimming close to him with that wide eye child naughty fun look only she managed to still hold intact. She held her hands slightly back before pushing the water towards him. 

    - You tellin’ me you invited me in for a water fight? - he chuckled at her actions. 

    - Afraid I’ll win?

    - Kid, you’re much too tiny to win against me. 

    - Wanna bet? - she threw water again at him, swimming closer and closer to him before anchoring herself against him, hands on his shoulders. - I bet you as many apple pies as you want. 

    - Yeah, I’m trying not to gain any more weight, kid.

    - You have beautiful eyes, I’ve never noticed. - she made eye contact with him, seeing her own reflection in his light blue eyes. Maybe she’d never notice because the uniform was so dark blue his eyes reflected it like mirrors, yet they were light. - They’re gorgeous. 

    - Trying to make me blush, kid? 

    - Just never noticed. 

    - Well huh ... - he could listen to his heart beating and drumming against his chest along with the soft movement of the water. All his eyes could see was her, her hands holding onto his shoulders and her angelic face looking at him. - Thanks, you have nice eyes too.

    - You can’t take a compliment, Captain. - she teased.

    - I don’t think I’m deserving of any, specially coming from you, kid.

    - What is that supposed to mean?

    - You know what the men say in town. They think you’re the prettiest thing in a skirt to ever pace around here. Pretty sure they’ll kill each other trying to get your favour.

    - My favour? Is that what you think I’m good for?

    - No ... I ... That’s not what I meant. - his face creased. - I’m just telling you what I hear. 

    - You seem to know a lot of gossip about me, captain. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’ve been asking around.

    - What if I have? - Lee watched for the first time her mouth shut close. She didn’t know what to say next, eyebrows furrowed together as she inspected his face, slow blinking. Her eyes left his to look at the water back at him. - Just looking out for you ... not a lot of people like you ‘round town. 

He hands gripped his shoulder as she swam closer to him. Her intention was to hug him thank you. Of course she didn’t expect no one to look out for her, she didn’t care about what a bunch of housewives and hopeless alcoholics thought of her. She knew he didn’t inspire adoration in them other. As she got closed to him, he leaned down, capturing her lips into his. Her hands slide from her shoulders to his chest, almost as if she wanted to be the good one and push him away. He was married after all. However, as his lips moved against hers she found herself incapable of pushing him away, hands relaxing just resting against his chest as she found herself acting on her sinful thoughts for the first time. 

So much for summer love, for saying us, ‘cause you weren’t mine to lose.

taglist: @lookiamtrying​

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Burn; Current!Roger Taylor x reader

*Author’s note*

In light of Hamilton coming out on Disney+ today (watched it earlier this afternoon and WAS BLOWN AWAY!!!!!) I wanted to post this for awhile but never had the time nor did I think I was going to but I then thought screw it I'll post it in light of Hamilton. So this fanfic goes around "That would be enough" (If you haven't read that story GO READ THAT CAUSE SPOILERS!!!) but this time it's in YOUR POV. Plus this song had some heavy inspiration for a sequel-ish part of that fic. So I hope you all enjoy it and have a safe and happy 4th of July to my fellow American readers :)

You can read pt.1 here -------> READ ME

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@simonedk

@platawnic

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queensdivas

@geek-and-proud

@kairosfreddie

@queendeakyy

_____________________________________________________________

I sat there in the pub trying to enjoy our victory at the Grammy’s with my Hamilton fam, but what Roger had told me just clouded my mind and it was all I could think about.  He was my dad. All this time I really did have a father, a freakin Rockstar legend no doubt.  The man I had come to idolize out of all the four members of my favorite rock band was none other than my dad.

What if he was lying? Maybe he know about this all along? Maybe he kicked my mother aside as soon as she told him? So many questions were buzzing through my mind.  So many what if’s and maybes that I almost was about to just start bawling right there in the club.

“(Y/n)? You okay?” I felt a hand at my shoulder and when I turned around there stood Lin.  His brown eyes filled with concern.

“Yeah. I’m fine.”

“You sure? You looked really out of it for a second there.” Said Renée.

“I’ll bet she’s still just star struck from having to sing alongside her favorite rock group. Am I right?” Daveed teased as he wrapped an arm around me and poked my cheek teasingly.

“Yeah how did it feel to be up there with Queen themselves (n/n)? You’ve always raved on about how you wished to perform alongside them.” Leslie said.

“Oh it was—amazing.” I trailed off. “Excuse me.” I removed Daveed’s arm from my shoulders and walked out ot eh club to try and get some air.

Once outside I was automatically hit with the cool winter LA air.  I took a left to the side of the club and leaned up against the wall trying to compose myself.  Of course I wasn’t gonna tell the guys what Roger just told me, no. This was my mess and they don’t deserve this gossip, but I’ve got to see whether Roger Taylor was either playing me for a fool or if in fact he really is my—father.

In the weeks that went by after the award season was done, I called up my mom’s brother and sister, my uncle Bobby and aunt Jodie to finally see just what the truth was.  I first arrived at my aunt Jodie’s home down in Sioux Falls and knocked on the door. The door opened after about five seconds and there stood my aunt Jodie, sheriff of the Sioux Falls police force.

“Hey, there’s my Tony award winning niece.”

“Aunt Jodie you know I didn’t win the award.”

“I don’t care you were denied that award. I’ve heard the album and I saw the show the day it came to Broadway and you were sensational!” I smiled and thanked her with a hug. “Come in, I was just making some coffee before I headed out to start my shift.”

“Oh well if you’re too busy we can talk later.” I said as I was gestured inside.

“Nonsense, besides I’m the sheriff I can come in whenever I want.” She bragged.  I shook my head playfully at her as she went into the kitchen and got the coffee poured out.  “So, you said over the phone that you wanted to talk about your mom, right?”

“In a way.” I said as I took one of the coffee mugs she soon came in with.  She and I sat down in the dining room and she said.

“Okay. What’s going on?”

“Look I’m just gonna cut to the chase. Is Roger Taylor my father?” her eyes widened and she gulped noticeably.

“Wow. That is cutting to the chase.”

“Aunt Jodie please. I’ve—been literally freaking out about this ever since he told me after the Grammy’s……”

“Wait, wait, whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on. You mean you actually met him?”

“Is it true?!” I demanded.  Aunt Jodie set her mug down and sighed heavily.

“God (m/n) you should’ve told her the truth.” She muttered into her hands as she buried her face into them.

“So it is true? Roger Taylor really is my dad?” she turned to me with solemn eyes and took my hand in hers.

“Your mom and Roger were a couple. And they seemed really happy with each other, even from being across the world from each other most days until one day she did move to London with him. God I could’ve sworn they would’ve been married by the end of the year. But you mom showed up at my apartment one night, drenched in the storm that was here that night with a heartbroken expression.”

“So—did he…..dump her? Break her heart?” I snapped lowly.

“Truth be told, your mom left him.” I looked at her in shock. “Yeah. It was also when she told me that she was pregnant. With you. Roger’s child.” She said as she stroked my cheek.  I turned away from her and I said as I stared at my mug of coffee.

“Why the hell would she lie to me all these years?”

“Believe me sweetie. Your uncle Bobby and I tried to convince your mom to tell you the truth. Especially once you heard your first Queen song. And—” But before she could finish her statement, her phone rang.  She picked it up and answered in a firm tone, “Sheriff Jodie……yeah. Okay. Alright I’ll be there soon.” She hung up and sighed heavily. “Sorry sweetie, the team needs me to do a press interview and it can’t wait any longer.”

“I understand.” I said solemnly.

“Here.” She spoke after a moment of silence.  She went over to the living room where she kept all her books and reached the very top of it and pulled out a scrapbook.  “Take this.” She handed it to me.

“What is this?” I asked.

“Your mom got into scrapbooking while she was up there. It—has all the pictures of her and Roger together. She told me to hide this shortly after you were born, but I think now since you know the truth, you should take it.” She held it out to me and I took it.  “You know, if you don’t wanna wait for me. You can see your uncle Bobby. He might have some things to tell you.”

“Wait, uncle Bobby knows about this too?!” I said aghast.  “Did the entire family know about this too? Did grandma and grandpa know about this too?”

“No. Just Bobby and I as her siblings. In fact your grandfather tried to keep your mom away from Roger when they started seeing each other. Said that he was no good for her.” With that she forced herself to leave the house so that she could meet for that press interview.

“Mom—why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?” I sighed as I left aunt Jodie’s place and headed 30 miles north to meet my uncle Bobby over at his place.

I arrived at his home/garage shop and we were both sitting down in the kitchen. He was currently eating a steak and potatoes and he even asked if I wanted anything but I told him I didn’t have the appetite to eat.  I then explained to him everything that I had found out and it was then he gently lowered his fork filled with mashed potatoes and he said grimly.

“So you met your old man?”

“Got to perform with him actually. I know you really don’t do award shows except for the CMA’s but yeah. I performed alongside Queen and Adam Lambert at the Grammys back in February.”

“And he told you that he was your father?”

“Yeah. Aunt Jodie gave me mom’s scrapbook. Would’ve told me more but she had to do a press junket or something like that.”

“Always busy that little sister of mine.” He sighed solemnly. “Listen sweetheart; when your mom first started seeing Roger I knew a bit of his playboy rep. Then again what rockstar back then didn’t have one? I just told her to be careful. Sure I wasn’t all that thrilled with her dating a Brit but I couldn’t stop her. But when Jodie called and told me that she had come back home pregnant with you, I wanted to drag her ass back there and have her tell Roger what had happened.”

“So she left—because of me?”

“Of course not sweetie. Her reason was because of the fact that Queen was finally rising to the heights they had dreamed of. She—she was honestly scared of what Roger would say if she told him. Jodie and I tried to convince her but you know your mama. Stubborn as an ox. Much like yourself.”

He stood up and went to open a drawer and pulled out a small rusted box.  He set it down before me and he told me.

“While your mom could never physically tell you the truth, she tried to see if she could write you a letter. She wrote one every year on your birthday, but could never find the heart to give them to you. She also even wrote some letters to Roger.”

“Let me guess, and she entrusted you with this like she did with aunt Jodie for the scrapbook.”

“There’s also this.” He left and grabbed an envelope from the kitchen cabinet where he would usually keep bills at.  “This…..was the letter she wrote on her deathbed. She entrusted me to give this to you when you were ready. Well, guess now’s a good time as any.” He handed me the envelope and I held that along with touching the lid of the box to reveal hundreds maybe thousands of letters.

I tried to keep the tears at bay from the hurt I was feeling in my chest.  Uncle Bobby was silence for a moment before he said to me.

“Take your time when you read these letters.”

After a couple of months of finally going through all the letter my mum tried to write to both Roger and myself throughout the years, and finally able to see every single picture of her and Roger together I was numb.

I was the only one left up on stage since everyone decided to go out to eat for their lunch break before tomorrow tonight’s performance which would in fact be Lin’s last performance with us on stage.  I took out one specific letter that was actually written just a few days before my mom finally died of cancer, the letter that she was actually able to finish completely with supposedly the right words she needed to tell me.

I had read this letter so many times that I could recite it almost as easy as my lines and the songs from Hamilton.  I sat down at the edge of the stage and looked down at it before taking out my phone and went through my rehearsal track and found the instrumental version of Burn.

Much like I had done once before when I was betrayed by my ex-fiancé at the time I was to star in the show when it first came to Broadway, I sung Burn aloud to myself filling each verse with as much emotion and betrayal I was feeling inside.

However unlike before, I couldn’t help myself but mix up some words to what I would normally sing on stage.

Play video

*Me*

I saved every letter you wrote to us From the moment I read them I knew you were his He said you were his Which makes me his

Do you know what aunt Jodie said, When we saw your first record arrive? You said, be careful with that one, love He will do what it takes to survive

You and your words flooded my senses Your sentences left me defenseless You built me palaces out of paragraphs You built cathedrals

I'm re-reading the letters you wrote to me I'm searching and scanning for answers in every line For some kind of sign And when you were mine The world seemed to burn. Burn.

You published your works to the world You told me of How you brought my mom into your bed In clearing your name You have ruined my life

Do you know what uncle Bobby said When he heard what you'd done? He said, she’s partnered with an Icarus He has flown too close to the sun

You and your words obsessed with your legacy Your sentences border on senseless And you are paranoid in every paragraph How they perceive you You, you, you!

I'm erasing you both from the narrative Let everyone wonder how (Y/n) reacted When you both broke her heart You have torn it all apart I'm watching it burn Watching it burn

The world has no right to my heart The world has no place in your bed They don't get to know what I said I'm burning the memories Burning the letters that

Might have redeemed you both

You forfeit all rights to my heart You forfeit the place in his bed You'll sleep in your office instead With only the memories of when you were mine

I hope you both

Burn

“I haven’t heard you sing that song with that much emotion since your ex fiancé cheated on you.” I turned around and there stood Lin.  He took off his newsies hat and said. “You sure you don’t wanna tell me what’s going on? We’re all worried about you.”

“Just—some personal family drama Lin. You wouldn’t understand.” I said as I sat back down at the edge of the stage.

“I may not get it. But I am willing to lend an ear, if you’d like.” He said as he came up and sat down close to me.  His shoulder brushing against mine as his legs mimicked the same way mine were swinging.

“Why do you always have to make me succumb to your charms Lin Manuel Miranda?” he shrugged while giving me the puppy dog eyes.  I looked down at my letter before handing it over to him. “You can read it out loud if you’d like.”

“Are you sure?”

“It’s better than just you reading in silence. My thoughts will just attack me if there’s silence.” He took the letter from my hand and proceeded to read it.

“‘My darling (y/n). I’ve written this letter over a thousand times in both versions. I could never find the right words to say but with my time coming to an end, you deserve to know the truth. You know how you’ve always loved the songs from Queen? Well, it would seem fate has decided to let you hear them for you see your father is known other than the drummer of Queen.’ Whaaaat?”

“I know. In fact Roger Taylor himself told me he was my father right after the Grammy’s. That’s why I was late to celebration. I didn’t want to believe him, thinking he was a senile old man trying to mess with me. But—hehe turns out he wasn’t. I’ve got pictures from my mom’s scrapbook that she made while she was in London of her and Roger together. All domestic like or her being in the studio with them. And then my uncle shows me some of the many letters she’s tried to write not only to me but to Roger himself about this whole shitshow. So yeah Roger Taylor’s my long lost baby daddy. Surprise!”

“My god.” Lin said after a long pause. “No wonder you’ve been out of sorts lately. I can’t blame you.”

“I’m so confused Lin.”

“About what exactly?”

“Everything. My mom lied to me for so long. Not only to me but apparently to Roger as well cause my aunt Jodie said he never knew. But then again I feel this—utter hatred for Roger because he could’ve told me sooner the moment he found out. Or maybe it would’ve been better had he never told me at all. I mean—I never knew I had a dad. I always believe he never cared about me or my mom, or died of a drug overdose or whatever. It feels like—my whole life has been nothing but one big lie. My entire family knew this secret and yet I find out now almost 30 years later that my father is Roger Fucking Taylor. My idol and favorite member of my most favorite rock band!”

“That is seriously a lot to take in. I mean—if I were in your place I’d be reacting the same way. Lost, betrayed, confused, heartbroken.”

“I just—why would she lie to me? I thought we told each other everything, and she goes and hides for all my life of who my real father was.” I sighed heavily. “You know; I used to always come up with the worst scenarios of why I never had a father. It’s all ranged from the basic ‘you get rid of the baby or I’m leaving you’ scenario. To overdosing or whatever. Or just dying of cancer or some shit like that. But no he’s been living his life as a Rock god. I mean—I should hate him but……he never knew. But then he did, how?”

“Well from what I can tell, and from the pictures you’ve shown me of your mom, you both look similar in a way. But your actions is what really makes you like your mom. I’ve seen all the plays she’s been in as a dancer or ensemble and you have that same fire as she did on the stage. It’s like—you both were made for it.”

“But I guess I get it from both of them.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“Still I—I feel so angry with her for lying to me.”

“And it’s okay to be angry. And like you said, Roger didn’t know either. He was kept in the dark about it just as much as you were. But maybe when you got to know them along with Adam it might’ve brought some memories back.” He scooted closer to me and allowed me to rest my head on his shoulder.

“What do I do now?” I asked defeated.

“Well there is one option, but you’re not gonna like it.” We looked at each other and I said.

“You’re right I don’t.”

“But you’ve got to. (Y/n). you can be angry about this but don’t stay mad about it forever. Remember he didn’t know either. It’s not like he packed up and took off. Just tell him how you really feel. I’m not saying you have to accept him and call him dad as soon as you see him. Just—tell him you want to take things slow. Maybe go out for coffee or well tea since he’s British.” I softly laughed at that last remark. “Now there’s that fabulous smile my Eliza is known for.”

“Nice touch calling me my character’s name.”

“I know my Eliza like I know myself.” He shrugged.

“You know that’s Renée’s line right?”

“Yeah I know. Remember I wrote the script.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. C’mon Alexander, I’m hungry and we’ve got an until rehearsal.”

“Sure thing, let us spread our wings and fly away.”

“Okay now you’re just showing off.” I playfully shoved him as we left the theatre and went to go get lunch.

After another couple months, which made it four months since Roger Taylor told me the truth, I found myself in London to where I had told Roger and discussed with him with what I was feeling.  He said he was willing to go at whatever speed I needed in order to process this whole thing.

One day after seeing them perform at MSG, Roger and I were sitting together at Central Park right by the Balto statue having a cup of coffee together.

“So what’s new with you my dear?”

“Well…..I’ve been giving this some thought. And—I think it’s time I announced my leaving of Broadway’s Hamilton. Maybe even leaving Broadway all together.”

“Really? What made you decide that?”

“Well. Truthfully I’ve been thinking about……moving to London.” He turned to look at me and I turned to face him.  “Now before you say anything I know I should be thinking about this but I have. My aunt and uncle don’t even live remotely close to me so there’s nothing really tying me to New York. And also, I was—hoping that now that Queen’s done with touring for now, maybe you and I could……spend more time together.”

“I would like that very much.” He said with a warm smile. “I just hope you aren’t doing all this just for my sake. Like I told you before, I’m willing to go at your own pace.”

“And I thank you for that Roger. Truly I do. But…..I gotta stop giving into this anger that’s been festering up inside of me. After all you didn’t know about my mom being pregnant when she left you. And—I guess I just need some time away from home.”

“If you need a place to stay until you get on your feet. Or for even longer than that I will not say no to it. You can stay with Sarina and I. We’ve got more than enough rooms.”

“Thanks……..dad.” he looked at me surprised and he said.

“You—you actually called me…..”

“I figured it was about time I did so. I—hope I didn’t make things….”

“No, no, no, no, no not at all love.” He hesitantly reached up towards my face before he finally placed it up against my cheek.  I closed my eyes and leaned into his palm. “God. You’re—the perfect mixture of both your mother and myself.”

“You know, Daveed always teased me about just how much I looked like you when you were in drag for the I want to break free music video.” He laughed.

“Oh god that was a fun day on set. Probably one of my favorite videos to shoot.” I smiled softly at him and leaned up against his shoulder and said.

“Do you think they would’ve liked me? John and Freddie I mean.” I felt Roger sigh heavily and he said as I felt his arms wrap around me.

“There’s no doubt in my mind Freddie would’ve tried to spoil you. And John, I’d bet he’d be trying to turn you against me.” I softly chuckled and embraced my dad and nuzzled my head into his shoulder.

The two of us hugging each other finally sitting together as a real father and daughter.

[zirawrites]

companions react to a reader who is always there for them and comforts them whenever they're feeling vulnerable/hurt/sad.

To quote Taylor Swift… “Honey I rose up from the grave, I do it all the time.” Ya fave fic writer Zira is back with another reaction! I finished my last summer classes, I’m home from England and ready to start being active again. I apologize if I’m rusty, I haven’t done a proper reaction in nearly six months. But I’m tryn’ for y’all!!!!

What really got me back in to reactions is reading some awesome fanfics recently. So as always, my inbox is open and I’ll be working away on my AO3 account for my first full-length fic!

TRIGGER WARNING: This post briefly mentions suicide in Preston’s reaction.

Cait: Before Cait met Sole, she only saw herself as someone who deserved the shite hand she was dealt. Almost immediately after they left the combat zone, it became apparent that Sole didn’t just see Cait as a companion: they really cared about her. Whenever Cait threw a bottle against the bar to pick a fight, Sole was there to defuse the situation. After Cait got them thrown out of Diamond City for calling Myrna “a right ol’ synth fucker,” Sole didn’t get frustrated (probably they were just relieved neither were arrested). Even in her darkest hours of getting sober, Sole was there to stroke her hair and keep her hydrated while she shook in bed.

It took time, but eventually Cait got used to Sole’s gentle touch and soft words. In fact, sometimes Cait acted out just to feel Sole brush the coarse hair from her sweating forehead to place a chaste kiss on it. Cait learned to bite her tongue over minor things like a drifter from Goodneighbor rudely asking for a shag, which pleased Sole. It made the moments Sole embraced her bruised and bloody body after a fight that much sweeter.

Codsworth: Being a Mr. Handy didn’t exempt Codsworth from the woes of life. In fact, the poor robot was probably the most likely companion to be frazzled in Sole’s company. Every time Sole ran too fast or used their fist over a silver tongue in tough situations, Codsworth blew a fuse. Well, not really. He was General Atomic’s finest, thank you very much. The reason Codsworth let Sole get away with so much mayhem was because he knew they always soothed his aching metallic heart after the fighting was over.

When Codsworth was stressed over being dragged along on a dangerous quest, Sole would stop in the shadows of the city and place their hand on his metal side. They let him rant about how foolish they were being. Weren’t they afraid of raiders? Radscorpions? Rogue synths? He would ramble on, his shaky words eventually trailing off as Sole’s thumb ran over the rust stains on his paint. They would tell Codsworth that they always came back unscathed, didn’t they? Codsworth would sigh and say that was debatable, but he trusted their judgement. How could he stay cross with his master/mistress?

Curie: Since becoming a synth, Curie would get overwhelmed with the new emotions she felt. The others in Sanctuary would poke fun at her for constantly overreacting, but Sole knew she just needed a little more tender love and care. When Curie was mad, she was beyond consolable. She would stomp around Sanctuary with balled fists and snap at the slightest transgression (a moment of silence for Sturges asking Curie to help paint the workbench). If Curie was wrapped up in a romance novel Sole had snatched her from a mission, she would curl up under the blankets and sob in to a box of pre-war tissues. For someone with such grace and poise, Curie was a wicked hurricane of emotion.

Sole could always get her to calm down with a voice of reason. They would remind Curie that the characters in her novels weren’t real. That you can’t solve every injustice in the world. And sometimes an innocent Sturges really did need help painting. Curie would take some deep breaths, and occasionally asked Sole to hold her hand. After thinking the situation over, Curie was back to her normal (albeit odd) self, and Sole would prepare for her next confusing emotion to surface.

Danse: Unfortunately for Danse, he really thought he could hide away his emotions. He had a terrible habit of scrunching his unkempt eyebrows when frustrated. If Danse was hurt by someone’s words, he ducked his head down for a few moments to fight back tears. For someone who guarded their heart so closely, Danse was in some ways an open book.

Whenever Danse needed to be vulnerable around Sole, he would try his damnedest to use words. Instead of shrugging his pain off, Danse would grit his teeth and talk about a depressing failed mission or recent nightmare. His favorite response from Sole was when they leaned in to listen closer and he could feel their breath on his neck. He wasn’t the cuddliest in the Commonwealth, but just seeing Sole being attentive to his needs put him in lighter spirits.

Deacon: Everybody’s favorite Egg Man was the hardest companion to crack. Deacon went out of his way to make sure Sole didn’t notice his sour mood. There were times a situation exasperated him, and he’d slip up to make a soft sigh. But those moments were rare. Usually if Deacon felt upset, his first instinct was to crack a joke. He needed other people to laugh as if his life depended on it. Maybe then they wouldn’t see his lips quiver. His posture stiffen. The grey cloud forming over his head.

However, that didn’t mean he didn’t always let Sole in. When his partner pried enough, Deacon would sit them down to vent. Sole would keep a respectable distance, but occasionally placed a reaffirming hand on his shoulder. Minor physical contact, but all of their attention on his story. Just knowing that Sole gave a shit was enough for him to collect his thoughts, boop his partners nose, and tell them it was time to get back to work. He was truly an enigma.

Dogmeat: The lucky German Shepherd had the most attentive master in the world. Sole knew what every individual bark or whimper out of Dogmeat’s mouth meant. When he couldn’t find an irradiated animal to chase on their walk? Sole would start sprinting to Red Rocket truck station for him to go after them. A crack of lightning during a rad storm? Sole was already on the ground supplying an ample amount of bully rubs. There was never a moment the dog felt unloved. After all, Sole was constantly reminding him that he was a good boy.

Gage: The first few times Sole tried to calm Gage down they were met with a prompt, “Aw, fuck off, boss!” Gage really only had one emotion, and it was anger. He took the longest to warm up to Sole, especially because whenever he did show his softer side it made him feel… vulnerable. Gage couldn’t punch his way through a heavy heart.

Whenever he did tell Sole about his childhood, he would stop every few minutes to make sure they were listening. Despite Sole’s initial assumption, Gage did like the occasional physical touch. When Gage was in a mood, Sole would run their hand down his arm or give his hip a light bump. He would blush, and Sole tried their best not to smile like an absolute idiot at their triumph. Gage always scoffed at his Overboss going soft on him, but it did keep him out of a few unnecessary bar fights.

Hancock: Mayor John “Puppy Dog Eyes” Hancock. Hancock never wanted to bring down the mood, but he felt completely comfortable sharing his feelings with Sole. His favorite tactic Sole used was when they ran their finger tips up and down his arm while he wore his coat. Hancock never relished in Sole having to touch his scarred flesh, but the feeling of Sole’s fingernails over the fabric of his favorite outfit was strangely calming. 

Hancock always had a flair for the dramatic, and Sole used this to their advantage to calm him down. Whatever exaggerated story he had to complain about, Sole always offered a crazy solution. Were raiders trying to extort money from the Goodneighbor drifters? The two of them should sic the entire Minutemen army on them. When Hancock was insecure about his ghoulish appearance, why didn’t Curie just whip up an anti-ghoulification serum? Sole’s antics always made Hancock chuckle, and then purr when Sole gave him an affectionate squeeze. They reminded him the two of them had time to sit down and think of a plan, and worrying didn’t exactly help his “King of the Zombies” reputation.

MacCready: Unbeknownst to MacCready, his boss had seen through the tough guy act at The Third Rail immediately. But over the course of their friendship, MacCready learned to let his guard down. He was more emotional than he let on. Every time MacCready broke down in front of Sole, he was reminded that he wasn’t alone. Most of MacCready’s rough nights were losing sleep over Duncan. Sole would lay down next to him and talk about their plans for pre-war Shaun. About how Nate/Nora insisted on homeschooling, but they wanted to send him off to private school. How they hoped he inherited their light freckles and sense of humor. MacCready would start to talk about how Duncan had his eyes, and then the conversation would go off from there. As long as Sole kept MacCready calm and distracted, he was able to relax his rugged shoulders and drift off to sleep. 

Preston: Despite his soft demeanor, Preston is battling an arsenal of demons. When Sole learned about his suicidal past, they made sure that they always approached his low mood swings with care. Sole knew those types of feelings don’t always immediately go away, so they made sure whenever they talked to Preston about his depression in a safe space. It sometimes was the chambers of the Castle, or even at the picnic bench behind Sanctuary. Whenever Sole wanted Preston to feel loved, they took the time to get him alone and really listen to his troubles. Whenever Sole squeezed his hand and told him they were proud, Preston couldn’t hide his swelling chest.

Piper: It was no secret that Piper was high-strung. Not only did she have a business to run, but there was a little sister always nipping at her heels. Sometimes the responsibility got overwhelming, even for Diamond City’s greatest reporter. During the times Piper felt like the world was crashing down, Sole got Nick or Ellie to babysit Nat. They would turn on the radio, grab a bottle of (albeit cheap) wine, and let Piper unload on them. The reporter would pace around her office screaming about a false lead or uncooperative interviewee, then take a gulp of her drink. This would go on until Piper felt a little buzzed, and she was forced to retire to the couch.

That was when Sole would soften the mood. Sole would play with Piper’s hair or hum a pre-war song that made Piper sigh in to her friend’s shoulder. “Damn, Blue,” Piper sometimes whispered. “Life’s always a little lighter with my favorite popsicle around.” Her jests didn’t phase Sole, who returned their friend’s joke with an elbow to the arm.

Nick: Nick only likes to show his ruffled feathers around Sole when they’re alone in the office. He’d lean back in his chair, hang his hat on the nearby rack, and blink up at his partner with concerned yellow eyes. Sole knew that was Nick’s way of saying he needed some reassurance that the world wasn’t going to blow up (again).

During Nick’s vulnerable moments, Sole would try to talk about anything positive. Literally anything. Maybe Dogmeat had sat still for his weekly bath, or Shaun drew them a fridge-worthy picture. Nick’s posture would visibly relax, and he would get lost in some happy news for once. Sometimes he wouldn’t notice Sole was trying to calm him down. When he occasionally did catch on, Nick would never call Sole out. Instead, he’d add an anecdote of his own, like how he caught Ellie humming his favorite song as she cleaned the office.

Strong: Strong was easy to piss off, but just as simple to calm down if you knew the right thing to say. Whenever Strong got upset it was obvious to even the dumbest supermutant. He would try to get a rise out of Sole by calling them weak, or charging out ahead of them during a fight. To settle Strong down, Sole just needed to tell him in layman’s terms he wasn’t completing his mission. They couldn’t find the milk of human kindness if he kept acting out.

Strong never actually sought real emotional advice or showed any signs of being discouraged, but if he did Sole would be ready with open arms.

X6-88: Just because X6 is reserved doesn’t mean he doesn’t share his feelings. In fact, X6 is blunt about everything, including his current state of mind. Whenever X6 comes to Sole and says his morale is low, Sole reminds him of what an asset he is to the Commonwealth. How strong his passion for making the future safer helps Sole’s own optimism. When X6 feels useful, he almost always feels better. There was even an occasion where Sole almost heard X6 thank them for a pep talk.

[ntbogoni]

A playlist about Emun Ryder, main character of @lonyn‘s fanfic Fickle Game and Blue Haze.

It’s a gift as thanks for your friendship and support! You are completely amazing and I adore you with my whole heart! ~~I wanted it to be for you b-day but it’s too far away *sighs* ALSO I LOVE EMUN OMG I CAN’T HANDLE THIS LOVE~~ Hope you like it, my friend! ❤️

Spotify link is here!

Tracks under the cut :)

Made Of Stone - Daughter

Monument - Fossil Collective

Where’s My Love - Syml

Wicked Game - Tula

Half Light - Fossil Collective

Lost Here - Fauntella Crow

A Bible Of Mermaid Pictures (Acoustic) - Sofia Karlberg

Hold - Built For The Sea

Elastic heart - Sia feat. The Weeknd

Eyes On Fire - Blue Foundation

5AM - Amber Run

Drown - Marika Hackman

Lost - Liza Anne

Deep Green - Marika Hackman

Marathon (In Roses) - Gem Club

First Light Of Winter - Miranda Lee Richards

The After You - Miakoda

My Little Ruin - Glen Hansard

Titanium - Scott Bradlee’s Postmodern Jukebox

Nobody’s Hero - The Heavy

Surrender - Natalie Taylor

Youth - Daughter

Holland - Novo Amor

The Colder Months - Liza Anne

Next To You - Of Rust & Bone

Earth - Sleeping At Last

[iamcarriesoom]

All the clothes I wished I owned

As described in Hanson fanfic circa 1998-2000. So many chunky-heeled shoes. So much Delia’s. I can’t tell if this is indicative of my awful fashion sense, or of how weird fashion was at the time, or both.

(The main character was named Seileen, which was pronounced Shayleen, because apparently I named my characters like a bougie Park Slope mom.)

She changed into the outfit she had picked out to wear on the plane; black, flared jeans, and a navy blue sweater.

“Then wear the black shirt, you know, the fake Adidas one , with the white stripes down the arms?” Marcy told her.

Sei slipped her feet into her orange plastic Vans and somehow managed to find her rust-colored corduroy jacket.

She changed into her pajamas. The top was white with stars and moons printed on it, and the pants were white with blue stars printed on them. She put her blue bathrobe and slippers on and went outside onto her balcony.

She put on tan corduroy wide-leg pants, and a green Union Bay sweater with a tan and orange stripe down each arm.

She found her funky orange and tan plaid socks. She pulled those on and her blue plastic skechers sneakers.

She found a maroon, v-neck, long-sleeved velour top in the back of her closet. The maroon in that perfectly matched her maroon corduroy flares that she’d bought on boxing day.

She rummaged through the piles of new shoes that she’d accumulated with her many shopping expeditions with Marcy and finally found her black and silver platform saddle shoes from Delia* s. She slipped them on over her black and silver plaid socks and grabbed her jacket.

She slithered out of bed like an old snake.* She decided to wear her purple, wide-leg corduroy pants that day, with a long-sleeved, ribbed lavender shirt.

She dug through the top drawer of her silver, metallic dresser and found purple socks with silver threads woven in throughout. She pulled these on her feet, which were freezing on the cold, wooden floor. She found, after much searching, her favorite shoes, her custom-ordered, grape-purple Doc Martens, with a chunky heel.

She wore her wide-leg jeans from old navy, and an argyle sweater, knitted by her mother.

She put on a maroon, grey and navy plaid, pleated skirt with maroon tights and a navy, long-sleeved polo shirt and her incredibly high platform clogs.

She grabbed her wide-leg, american eagle jeans from the floor of her closet and hastily pulled them on.

She shot out of bed and hurriedly dressed in her maroon corduroy flares , grey velour t-shirt and navy blue fleece. She brushed her hair back into pigtails and slipped her feet into her doc martens.

Sei laughed as she pulled her purple chenille sweater over her head.

She was wearing a floor-length, dark purple velvet long-sleeved dress.

———————————————

She stood up slowly and stuffed her feet into her comfy old pink fuzzy slippers. Slipping on her satin bathrobe she tottered down the stairs and seated herself at the familiar kitchen table.

Marcy reached into the closet and pulled out khaki cargo flares and a pale blue, v-neck sweater.

Taylor kicked off his doc martens as Sei slipped her feet out of her too-big brown leather chunky-soled shoes.

She meandered back to her room, threw on a pair of jeans and a black v-neck short sleeved shirt.

“Want to go the mall? I need to get something to wear under my meshy sweater for the Hanson’s new year’s party.”

With her black vinyl skirt, she wore a red v-necked shirt with three-quarter length sleeves and knee high boots with a small platform.

Her red tankini top clung to her stomach while also covering enough to make her feel comfortable. The waist of her matching red boy-cut bathing suit bottoms stuck out a bit over the top of her orange and yellow tropical print wrap-skirt, tied loosely at her hips. She took a swig of lemonade and pushed her glittery red cat-eye sunglasses off the top of her head to rest coolly on the ridge of her nose.

———————————————

The fans began to leave the room, giggling, talking in hushed, excited tones, and giving Sei dirty looks as they glanced at her swollen belly, half camouflaged by a red hooded sweatshirt with glittery flames down the sleeves. Her hair was pulled back into a high, messy bun on her head and she wore a visor her friend had made her, covered in duct tape with a star on it.

“Isaac can tell you everything some other time, ok?” she told him, staring at her bump-toed shoes with flames on them.

*”She slithered out of bed like an old snake” is by far my favorite sentence I’ve ever written.

[inastrangerskiss]

boots

Tyler Rust x OFC

content warning: none just a good old fashioned hiking shop

summary: mel just wanted her day to end. then tyler showed up.

a/n: i wrote this before he was released and became taylor and i am too lazy to change all of the names

It was a normal Tuesday in the shop. The space was quiet, a few customers milling around, browsing the selection of hiking boots and carabiners. Locals hustled down the sidewalk outside, rushing through their lunch breaks, oblivious to the way the sun broke through the clouds, the way the light cast itself over the sides of the mountain in the distance.

Mel leaned over the checkout counter staring longingly towards those mountains, wishing the day would end and afford her the time to go for just one hike. Just one stroll through the trees, past the lake and into the hills.

By all accounts, it was a normal Tuesday.

And then he walked in.

He was unassuming, dressed just the same as any other customer. But there was something different about him, something intriguing. His hair was a shade of glittering blonde, half pulled back into a tiny bun. His shoulders were broad, his entire body sculpted by muscles. His glowing aura sucked Mel in, but she quickly shook herself free from its hold. She didn't have time to fall in love with every handsome nature bro that walked through the front doors.

He walked slowly towards her, a sense of confidence in his gait. Despite her better intuition, her heart began to beat wildly against her chest.

“Where might I find hiking boots?” He asked, leaning one arm against the countertop.

Without so much as a word, she pointed towards the racks of shoes against the far wall. The man stared at her for just a second too long and she felt sparks of electricity travelling down her spine. He looked to the shoes and then back at her before letting a gentle smile unwind across his face.

As he walked away and the distance between them grew she finally felt capable of taking a deep breath. She made a dedicated effort to keep her eyes focused on the computer in front of her as she checked on upcoming shipments and e-mail inquiries.

If she couldn’t see the man she couldn’t fall madly in love with him.

But the man had other ideas.

“Can I ask you a question?” He called over to her.

With a small sigh, Mel turned towards him. He was holding a shoe box in his hands but his face looked utterly confused.

“I hate to be that guy but I was wondering if you had the Salomon Xs in a size 11?”

His voice was soft and fully aware that his question was the bane of every retail worker’s existence. The gentleness in his tone was, in a word, disarming. Mel found herself forgetting the mental wall she had built so hastily upon first glance and warming up to him as she walked towards where he stood.

With her thumb pressed to her lower lip she studied the display of identical boots, quickly scanning over the boxes but not finding what he was looking for. She then browsed the surrounding displays, still coming up empty handed.

“It doesn’t look like it. What we have is what’s out here so we must’ve sold out.” She offered an apologetic frown.

“I get it. This is the third store I’ve tried today with no luck.”

They stood together silently for a moment before Mel pointed to a different stack of boxes. “You could try the new La Sportiva’s. They’re similarly priced and have a lot of the same features as the Salomons.”

The man walked towards the boots, picking one up in his hand and examining it from its different angles. Then he sat on a nearby bench, removed his current shoe, and tried the new one on. He stood and walked a few paces all while Mel watched on, blissfully unaware of any other customer in the store.

“How do I look?” The man asked, a goofy grin taking him over. “Think I could outrun a bear in these?”

Mel unleashed a sharp laugh before quickly covering her mouth with her hand. The man looked at her, amusement sparkling in his eyes.

“I don’t know if you’d outrun a bear but I’m sure you’d be a very handsome dinner.”

Blush crawled over the man’s cheeks but Mel couldn’t see as she looked down at her feet, embarrassed by the words that had spilled free of her. A comfortable tension built itself up around them - the kind that appears when there’s an inkling within the back of the mind’s of two strangers that something special has just begun.

“Eh, I don’t know. I think I’ll keep looking for the Salomon’s.” The man finally spoke as he sat down to unlace the shoes.

Mel wandered back to her computer, reluctant to separate from his intoxicating presence.

“Y’know,” She called over to him as she scrolled through her invoices. “I could order them for you. If you don’t mind waiting a week or so, that is.”

The man looked up to her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s no problem.”

He stood from the bench and approached her. The tension returned and an unfailing smile permanently etched itself over his face. He studied her face for a moment before giving a playful shrug.

“That’d be awesome actually.”

Mel nodded, tearing a piece of receipt tape from its machine. “If you don’t mind, write your number here and I can call you when they come in. I’ll order them now and I imagine they’ll arrive this time next week, give or take.”

The man did as told, writing out a series of numbers, in what could only be described as chicken scratch, and then writing the name Tyler at the top.

“Tyler?” Mel read it out slowly, trying to make sense of the impossibly bad penmanship.

Tyler nodded.

Mel then ripped off another piece of receipt tape and scribbled the shop’s number down under her name before sliding it towards him.

“Mel?” He read just as slowly as she had, mocking her inability to read his scribbles.

Mel laughed quietly. “Yes. You can use that number to check in on the order if I forget to call you or something.”

Tyler paused for a moment, staring at the paper. “And what if I wanted to call to ask you to get a cup of coffee with me? Is there a number for that or am I allowed to use this one?”

The pounding of Mel’s heart returned at a rate that threatened to crack a rib. Once more, sentence structure was at war with the signal overload in her brain. She tried to form something coherent but her bashful smile was working against her.

“Uh, I- I think it’d be the same number.” She finally murmured.

“Great.” He tucked his head down in an attempt to hide his own shy elation. Carefully, he folded the piece of paper and slid it into the pocket of his shorts. “It was nice meeting you, Mel.”

As he walked towards the front door, Mel found her voice. “It was nice to meet you too, Tyler.” He threw a smile over his shoulder before exiting, back into the open outdoors.

Mel watched as he walked up the sidewalk, stopping at the windows that resided beside the cash register, stopping so he was nearly right next to her once more. His back faced her though and she assumed he hadn’t realized how he had positioned himself. He pulled the paper free of his pocket and stared at it for a moment before pulling his phone out.

Before she knew it, the shop phone was ringing.

She picked it up, giving the standard greeting, unaware as to the person on the other line.

“Hey, uh, this really cute girl that works at this shop gave me this number to call in case I needed to get in touch.” The voice coming through the receiver spoke with a tiny shake, nervous excitement betraying its stability.

Mel turned towards the windows to see Tyler now turned around, looking at her, beaming like a golden retriever.

“Did she now?” She teased.

“Yeah and she said if I wanted to ask her out for a cup of coffee I could use this number as well.”

“Mhm.”

“I kind of want to ask her out for a cup of coffee.” He spoke with finality, sighing quietly as though he were finally free of a mounting burden.

Mel gained her composure, never breaking eye contact with Tyler through the windows. “She’d be happy to accept.”

“Cool, cool. Let her know that I’m really excited and I’ll come in tomorrow to figure out the logistics of this date.”

“I absolutely will.”

There was a significant pause as the two gazed out to one another, enraptured by the others' existence.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Mel.”

Tyler’s voice was a warm comfort, a new reality that she was more than happy to sink into. She no longer wanted to quell the way she felt about him. Today was meant to be different.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Tyler.”

[inastrangerskiss]

match tapes

Taylor Rust x Reader

content warning: a lil bit of angst but not much else

summary: you try to cheer taylor up after an injury sidelines him

“You can’t sit there all day.” You mumbled under your breath.

It had been days since you had seen Tyler anywhere but in front of the computer. With an injury keeping him from the ring he had devolved into a man possessed, his one singular purpose being the need to inundate himself with old match tapes. The light from the screen bounced off his face in the dimly lit room, his expression blank as he focused, rewound the video, fast forwarded.

“Tyler?” You waved your hand in front of his face.

He blinked slowly for a moment before looking at you, suddenly registering your presence.

“What’s up?” He asked quietly.

“C’mon, lets go do something.” You pleaded.

“I’d rather just stay home.”

With a heavy sigh you crossed your arms. He returned to his videos, his eyes flickering across the screen rapidly. Finally, you couldn’t stand it anymore.

You reached down and pressed the button on the back of the monitor, instantly causing it to turn black.

Tyler sat back. He wasn’t angry or frustrated, just defeated.

“Get up.” You commanded. “We’re going grocery shopping.”

He gestured to his crutches. “Do you know how tiring it is getting around on those?”

“You practically live at the gym and you’re telling me you’re too weak to go on a lil errand run with a pair of crutches?”

His eyes dropped into his lap, his fingers wringing one another.

“I’m not weak.”

A smile crossed over your face. You didn’t exactly feel good, needling in on his current insecurities, but if you knew one thing about the man you loved it was that he loved to prove people wrong.

“Thats what I thought. Let’s go. Get your jacket on.”

He hesitated. And then, slowly but surely, he grabbed the crutches, and began to make his way to the front door. You followed closely behind, a slight spring in your step. Carefully, you helped him get his jacket on, one arm after the other. For a moment, you could’ve sworn you saw him smile but, before you could be sure, he pulled your head close to him, kissing your temple.

You both walked to Tyler’s decrepit Subaru, this time Tyler getting in on the passenger side while you sat behind the wheel. He hadn’t exactly been wild about you driving his car when he first got injured and you knew that well enough but it was the only mode of transportation either of you had. You tried to be as cautious and confident as possible but it didn’t escape you when he winced every time you braked just a little too hard.

“Sorry.” You murmured.

“No worries.” He responded, unconvincingly, his hand gripped around the grab handle above his window.

The drive was short, the heat barely kicking in before the key was taken out of the ignition. You continued to follow Tyler as he slowly worked his way towards the cart corral. He wasn’t struggling as much as he implied he would be.

“What are we here for?” He asked over his shoulder.

“I’m going to make you something that I know you’ll love.”

He stared at you for a second but decided against questioning you further.

He followed your directions, grabbing the almond flour and the confectioners sugar. When you asked him what flavors he wanted he simply answered chocolate so you placed cocoa powder in the cart. He grabbed snacks as you walked down the aisle. It was never anything exciting - just seeded crackers and dried fruit - but the subdued smile on his face was a treat in and of itself.

“What next?” He asked,

“We need eggs. Just six of them.”

He reached for a clear case of organic, large brown eggs but you stopped him.

“Just get the regular ones. They’re cheaper.”

He paused for a moment to look at you. “Do you know what they put into the ‘regular’ ones? They’re full of chemicals and antibiotics and they’re not nearly as healthy as-”

You held up your hand, realizing the lecture you were about to receive. “Just put them in the cart, babe.”

He grinned, pleased with his success. You allowed him to pick out organic butter and heavy cream as well, just satisfied that he was enjoying his time out of the house. He had seemingly forgotten about the discomfort of his crutches altogether and that alone was a victory on your part.

You went to the checkout and he paid, balancing on one foot as he handed over a couple of bills and stowing the change away in his pocket. He hardly even complained when you nearly merged his car into a sedan that had crept up into your blind spot on the ride back home.

You carried the grocery bag into the house as he hobbled from the driveway back into the front hall. You helped him out of his jacket and waited until he had his shoes free of his feet. You walked to the kitchen as Tyler attempted to walk back to the computer, snacks in hand.

“Where do you think you’re going?” You asked, a hand on your hip.

He paused like a deer in the headlights.

“I was gonna go back -”

“Nope.” You stated. “You’re gonna sit here and help me.”

You expected Tyler to protest or grumble out a sigh but instead he shrugged and sat at the kitchen table, his open box of crackers placed beside him.

“What am I doing?” He asked, a certain tone of curiosity tingeing his voice.

You placed the almond flour, cocoa powder and the confectioners sugar in front of him, dropping a measuring cup next to the bags.

“Two cups of the flour and one cup of the sugar. A tablespoon of cocoa powder. And then whisk it together.”

He studied the components before seemingly deciding that his task seemed easy enough. He immediately dug the measuring cup into the bag of flour with a little more confidence than was appropriate.

“Use a spoon.”

Your words caused him to stop and raise an eyebrow. You understood. How hard could measuring dry ingredients possibly be?

You handed him a spoon and a butter knife.

“Spoon it into the cup and then level it with the back of the knife.” You explained.

He nodded slowly before following your instructions. While you whipped egg whites and sugar together, you could see him, meticulously filling and leveling the measuring cups, his brows furrowed together. He finished whisking and gave you a bright smile.

“All set!” He chimed, pushing the bowl forward.

You handed him another bowl and a sieve and his face fell ever so slightly. You explained the need for all the ingredients to be sifted together in order for the recipe to turn out correctly. He rolled his sleeves up, certain that he was no match for the fine mesh obstacle that stood before him.

You splashed vanilla into the meringue mixture and finished whipping it together while he created a thin, dusty layer in the bottom of his bowl. Occasionally, he would lean down and check to see if the sieve was actually doing it’s job only to find (much to his chagrin) that it was indeed functioning properly if not a little slowly.

You powered off and abandoned your mixer to stand behind him, running your fingers through his golden blonde hair while he worked. Carefully so as to not to disturb him, you pulled strand by strand back until you had gathered it all in your hands, a silky ponytail captured in your palm. You wrapped one of your scrunchies around the hair, tying it back behind his ears so it could no longer fall into his face. He stopped sifting for just a moment to turn back to you, a smile replacing the determined look on his face.

“Thank you, darling.” He spoke softly, genuine emotion crossing through his words.

It was the first time you had heard any sort of warmth in his voice since his injury.

He finally finished combining the ingredients together into a fine powder and you mixed it all together and before too long you were sitting on the couch together, waiting for the small circles on the baking sheets to re-emerge from the depths of the oven. His arm wrapped around your waist, his legs kicked up on the coffee table, one socked foot exposed, one covered in a boot. He was breathing slowly, calmly, a small grin laced up on his cheeks as he scrolled through his phone.

You wanted to stay like that forever. The way he smelled, bringing peace to your senses. The way his touch felt, holding you close as if he didn’t want to ever let go.

But the oven timer beeped and you separated from him to retrieve your baked goods. You were surprised when he stood quicker than you, grabbing his crutches and holding his hand in your direction.

“C’mon, before all my handiwork gets burnt up.” He laughed.

You took it upon yourself to remove the baking sheets from the oven, checking the little circles to see if they had risen in the heat and slid off the parchment paper with ease. You were pleased when everything seemed to have turned out properly.

You started making the filling, combining butter, more cocoa powder, more confectioners sugar, and heavy cream together. As you once again returned to your post standing in front of your mixer, Tyler’s arms wrapped around your waist, his head resting on your shoulder. He peppered tiny kisses up your neck and to your cheek. The kisses were without words but you knew they were meant with a dozen silent ‘thank you’s’.

You turned your head slightly and offered a kiss of your own, pressed to the side of his face. He looked at you and, for a moment, it was as if he was studying you. His eyes traveled over you as though he were reading a book. And then finally, after what felt like an hour in his gaze, he sighed a contented sigh and squeezed you tighter.

He insisted he help with piping the filling in so you filled two bags for you and for him. He wasn’t exactly neat about it. He would squeeze the bag too hard and overfill the little circular shells or he’d accidentally pipe over the sides but he seemed to be enjoying himself. That was all that mattered.

Time passed, the baking excursion was completed, and the sun began to set as the final dish was loaded into the dishwasher. You made your way to the couch, collapsing into the pillows with a heavy exhale. Baking was hard work and you were more than ready to check out for the rest of the evening. Tyler disappeared once more and a sinking feeling cropped up in your chest.

You had tried so hard and he finally was starting to look so happy. But you were back to square one, it seemed.

You flipped the television on, frustrated and disappointed. You lit your favorite candle and curled up, hoping to sink into the couch cushions before the night was through.

“You’re not about to fall asleep on me, are you?” Tyler asked, startling you.

There he was behind the couch, a blanket around his neck, the tray of completed macarons in one hand, and a crutch under his arm. He had a cheesy grin on his face and you couldn’t help but find it infectious.

“I thought you were gonna go back to your computer.”

You helped unburden him as he came to sit beside you. He spread the blanket over your body and beckoned you closer until your head was resting against his chest.

“I thought about it.” He admitted.

His eyes stayed trained on the television, as though he wasn’t yet ready to look you in the eye, to admit that he was wrong.

“But?” You prompted.

“But it gets pretty lonely sitting in there on my own. I didn’t realize how much I missed you and, y’know, doing things.”

You smiled a self satisfied smile. Your plan had worked. You cuddled closer to him and he pulled his arms around you, kissing the crown of your head.

“Thank you for this.” He first gestured to the baked goods but then to the rest of the room and, for just a minute, you were confused. “For all of this.”

“All of what?”

“For… for bringing me home when I always need it most. If that makes sense.”

You understood. You brought yourself up so you were face to face with him, placing a small kiss on his cheek before pulling him into a tight hug. You felt him laugh quietly, amused by your happiness.

“No matter what,” you murmured, resting your head in the crook of his neck. “I’ll always be here to bring you home. However you want. However you need.”

And so, you laid there for the rest of the night, eating most (if not all) of the macarons, wrapped in blankets while the cold fall winds blew all around the house. You were warm and you were together. You were happy.

And, in spite of Tyler’s continuing injury, the old match tapes remained unwatched and untouched, until long after he had healed.

[inastrangerskiss]

four paws

Taylor Rust x Reader

content warning: tyler rust said he worked in an animal shelter once and i lost my mind

summary: you find a lost dog and you need to get it home

You walked down the street, four furry paws beside you. These four furry paws did not belong to you. In fact you had no clue who they belonged to.

But, for now, this pup was your responsibility and you were going to do everything in your power to ensure he found his way home.

You had gone up one street and had received only shrugs and “I don’t know”’s from the people you spoke to. You went down another street only to receive the exact same treatment. You began to worry that maybe this dog had somehow managed to cross city lines and you were going to be the saving grace in his Homeward Bound-esque journey.

And then you saw a sign stapled to a telephone pole.

It read “Lost Dog - Reward if found”, a big picture of the dog by your side in the center, and a phone number printed at the bottom in big, bold print. You called the owner immediately. The line only rang once before a man picked up.

“Hello?” Asked a voice, filled with frantic energy.

“Hi. I was walking in town and I think I found your dog.”

“Really? Where was he? Is he okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. He looks perfectly fine. He was just kind of trotting down the sidewalk.”

The man on the other end of the line let out a deep sigh. “Okay, great. Thank you so much. Do you think we could meet up so I could bring him home?”

“Absolutely! I’m near the post office if you’d like to meet there.”

The man eagerly agreed and before you knew it, you were waiting on the corner, the mystery dog’s collar held gently in your hand, your eyes peeled for an approaching Subaru. When it arrived, you made your way to the driver’s side door and the owner stepped out.

He was handsome, broad shoulders and an impeccably built body, dressed in gym shorts and a tank top. His golden blonde hair was half pulled back into a top knot. You found yourself taken away by the smile that spread across his face the moment his dog jumped into his arms.

He peppered the dog with kisses and the dog dropped both paws on either side of the man’s head. The man laughed to himself, embracing his animal tightly before clipping a leash to his collar.

“Oh what are you doing out here!” He cooed. “I have been worried out of my mind over you!”

You stood awkwardly, unsure as to whether or not you were invited to participate in the conversation.

“Did you just find him?” He finally looked up towards you.

His eyes were bright, twinkling as he moved his gaze up to you. You felt your heart flutter as you looked back at him.

“Yeah, he was just sniffing around the street. I thought it was weird that he didn’t have a leash on or a person near him.”

Every attempt the man made to stand was thwarted by the front paws of the dog. Eventually, you reached a hand out and helped pull him to his feet. His fingers delicately found their temporary home against your wrist as he pulled himself to a vertical position and you worried he’d feel the blood pulsing through your veins.

“Thanks.” He spoke through a small grin.

“No problem.”

“I mean for finding him.”

“Whats the little guy’s name?” You asked.

“Tucker.”

“Tucker?”

Upon hearing his name, Tucker’s head tilted and he quickly padded over to you, intent on receiving some degree of affection. You didn’t mind, leaning forward and scratching him behind the ears.

“Yeah. He’s a good boy. His leash broke when we were at the dog park. I didn’t think it’d be a problem until he slipped the gate and started running up the street.”

The man was standing perilously close to you now. His arms were folded against his chest, his muscles ruthlessly on display. The golden sun was beginning to draw shapes against his face, illuminating the stray hairs, pulling away from his head. As he inhaled, you exhaled, both standing in silence entertaining Tucker as he excitedly bounded between both of you.

“Do you have a name?” You asked.

“I’m Tyler.”

You turned to find him looking at you, a warm smile still wrapped over his face. He took a hand and rubbed it behind his neck before stretching both arms over head. His shirt rose up on his torso, exposing his abdomen for just a moment.

“Um, anyways, I can Venmo you the reward for finding Tuck. I definitely don’t have enough cash on hand.”

You quickly shook your head.

“No, it's no problem. I couldn’t take a reward. I’m just happy you got him back.”

“I can’t not thank you.” He looked from you to his feet before continuing.

Without thinking, you held a hand out to Tyler’s arm, a reassuring nod following the gesture. “It’s okay. Trust me.”

He looked at your hand, a small twitch stirring his fingers, and for a moment you wondered if maybe he would reach out to you to meet your touch. But he didn’t and as you went to remove your arm from his space he began to speak again.

“I mean, if you’re not busy I could take you to dinner?”

You felt a raging blush spread across your cheeks, the heat of a million wildfires blazing through your skin. Your brain failed to create coherent strings of words, leaving you to just stand and foolishly grin. You wanted to form the word “yes” but you knew you wouldn’t be able to.

“I can’t tonight.” You sighed, your motor skills reluctantly beginning to cooperate.

“That’s okay. I just-”

“Wait.” You spoke quickly, not wanting to lose the offer. “I’m free tomorrow.”

“Oh. Really?” He asked, his eyes lighting up once again.

“Yeah. And if you are maybe we could-”

“I’m free.” Tyler spoke in a voice that was just as eager as the moment he had picked up the phone.

“Then it’s a date.” You chirped.

Tyler’s eyes met yours and a nervous laugh slipped from his lips. As his gaze washed over you, you felt a warmth tear through your body in spite of the setting sun.

“So, do you do this often?” He asked, gesturing to Tucker. “Finding dogs and returning them to their owners as like a side hustle?”

You couldn’t help but laugh.

“This is my first time.”

“You hear that Tucker? You’ve gotta be on your best behavior, you’re making a first impression for lost dogs here.”

As if on cue, Tucker sidled up to you, nuzzling your leg and forcing your hand to pet the top of his head.

“You know, he’s really shy. I’m kind of surprised he let you wrangle him.” Tyler spoke slowly, as though he were confused. “When he got loose I was worried he’d panic and not let anyone get close to him. I was devastated.”

“Aw, he’s a good boy, though. Isn’t he?” You ruffled the dog’s fur as he leaned in to your loving touch.

“Yeah he is.” A fond expression melted Tyler’s face as he coaxed Tucker back to his side, a white knuckle grip on his leash.

A comfortable silence fell over both of you.

“Well I should get this guy home.” Tyler sighed, starting towards his car. “Maybe you could text me? And we could figure out a place to go tomorrow night?”

“I think I can do that.” You nodded, a coy smirk resting on your face.

Tyler helped Tucker into the car before opening his own door. Before he sat down, he placed an arm on the roof of the vehicle and turned to you.

“Hey.” He called. “I’m glad that if anyone was going to find him, it was you.”

The words trailed off, becoming almost too quiet to hear. But you heard them. And when you looked him in the eyes, you felt something. You didn’t know what it was exactly but it made you feel whole. It made you feel safe.

“I think I’m glad I was the one who found him too.” You shrugged.

And of course you were. Because in finding the dog, you just may have found something even better.

[inastrangerskiss]

the last time

Tyler Rust x OFC

content warning: a little bit of angst, a little bit of fluff

His arms wrapped around her torso. His lips on her neck. His hands pulling hers across her body. She didn’t think this was where they would end up.

She could remember the day he left her. He had to find himself. He had to find some peace within himself. She was too busy. She was too regimented. She wasn’t free enough with her time or her plans. But a few years had passed. She had tried to be more open with her schedules, cutting back on hours at the shop, moving to a new place by the beach. She learned to take deep breaths. He became more tied up, working everyday, filling every free moment with workouts and matches, missing friends and lovers more and more often.

“Don’t go.” She whispered against his shoulder. It sounded the same as the first time she had dared to plead out loud to him.

The first time he responded: “It’s not forever.”

But he had packed his bags all the same and drove away.

The days after were difficult.

Not waking up in the same bed. She would roll over to his side hoping to find his bare chest, exposed in the morning light, his hair a mess under his head. Sleep would mark his cheeks, drawing lines across his skin. The coffee pot was empty and the living room was empty, no yoga mat on the floor, no books strewn across the coffee table.

He found himself hoping he’d open his eyes to see her aimlessly staring at the ceiling beside him, still wrapped up in the duvet regardless of the heat that had or hadn’t soaked the space overnight. He would take two mugs down from the cabinet, fill the coffee maker with two cups of water only to find a realization more bitter than the black water. No one reminding him to tidy up after his morning meditations, no one to put the books back on the shelf.

They saw each other a couple times over the years. She came to his match with a new man. He went to a bar with a new girl. But every time felt like the last time. Like the last goodbye and the last kiss before walking out the door. As if no time had passed at all. There was a tender sort of pain that echoed through the air. It would enter when the other did. Tyler could be on the other side of whatever space they were in and he’d feel it in the back of his throat. She would know when her chest began to ache.

Let it go she would repeat to herself. He was never really there.

The words would play over and over until she had finally made it back to the safety of the sidewalk outside.

The moment he saw her leave he was filled with a bittersweet relief, the sort that you find when something ends that you secretly wished hadn’t.

But two years passed and they made changes. Changes that affected themselves. Changes that affected others.

She walked to the store that morning, still in sweats, sleep encircling her eyes like rings on a well loved coffee table. He had realized he needed oat milk for his tea. He lingered in the dairy aisle for a moment longer than he had planned to. Maybe it was fate drawing their lines back together, maybe it was coincidence. But for the first time in a long time, when they happened upon each other that morning, bashful smiles crossed both of their faces. She made a comment about how she would’ve gotten more dressed up if she had known she was going to see him. He told her that she looked fine. What he couldn’t manage to get out was that seeing her, looking just as she had always, all those years ago, was more of a comfort to him than anyone could ever possibly provide.

They got to talking. It was casual but it was comfortable. She mentioned picking up baking as a hobby in her spare time. She explained how she had found it therapeutic, how it had helped her “center herself” - something Tyler was always saying she needed to learn how to do. They walked to the checkout islands together. He discussed how he needed to take some time off. He had been working nonstop and it was beginning to burn him out. He told her about the road trip he was planning to take in a few weeks.

A road trip he would never end up going on.

After they paid for their items, he walked with her back to her apartment. She invited him upstairs to have coffee. She had made too much and it was just going to go to waste. Tyler couldn’t argue with that sort of logic.

Coffee became lunch and when they finally parted ways, it felt less like it had every other time. It felt less like the end and more like a beginning. Less like a “goodbye” and more like a “see you soon”.

A few months passed. And there they were, his arms around her torso, his lips on her neck, his hands pulling hers across her body. They sat like this for what felt like hours. Nowhere to be. No one to go to. Just their bed, their pillows, and their bodies. And she turned, her head meeting his shoulder.

“Don’t go.” She whispered, hoping she didn’t sound the same as the first time she had dared to utter this sentence.

But this time was different. This time her words were met with a kiss to the crown of the head, and a tightening of the gentle grasp he had on her.

“I won’t.” He murmured into the dark. “Not this time. Not again.”