#tried to organize it the best i could and update the best i could since the 2017 list

[pulisicsgirl]

in my hour of need - mason mount

summary: eight months after the end of their relationship, Y/N and Mason find themselves at the same event—a charity gala—and the night’s events leave them both unsure of where they stand with each other

pairing: Mason Mount x reader

word count: 8.4k

warnings/tags: inappropriate joke is made about the reader, angst, self-doubt, exes-to-lovers, hurt/comfort (hee hee hee), ends with fluff of course don’t worry, lots of crying involved along the way

requested: no

based off of this concept from @mountttmase and @saltyheartnightmare

A/N: I’m so excited to finally have a fic ready to post for y’all again!!! I’ve literally been working on this one for the last three months, so it’s definitely a relief to put it out there! This is set during the TFSL gala that Mason attended back at the beginning of March, so some things might be a bit”outdated” by now… I hope yall enjoy!!!

Seeing Mason tonight had been more difficult than you had anticipated.

Eight months had passed since the fairly amicable breakup between the two of you. Things had ended on fairly good terms, but it had been the little things that built up that had led to the end of your relationship. Between Mason’s injury along with the situation at United and new, huge career opportunities that had arisen for you in the last year, the two of you seemed to be in completely different places in your lives. It seemed like you barely saw each other for a few minutes after you woke up in the morning and a few minutes before you fell asleep at night.

In the end, the disconnect was too much, and the two of you agreed to end things before they could get ugly.

You were thankful to have avoided the period of fighting and bickering that you knew would inevitably come with the track that you and Mason were on. Your relationship with him had many fond memories attached to it, and you didn’t want to see those tainted by a messy breakup. But every day that passed, you missed waking up in his bed, being by his side, spending time with him— all of it.

The two of you had tried your best to remain friends, truly. You had texted back and forth a bit, doing your best to keep up with each other’s lives and keep each other updated. You met for coffee about three weeks after the split, but after that your communication had quickly fallen off. You wondered if, like you, Mason had realized that trying to maintain a friendship had grown too painful. If, like you, it was killing him to have you sitting across from him and not be able to hold you, to kiss you, to call you his.

But there was no way for you to know— the two of you hadn’t spoken since.

It hadn’t come as a surprise that he was making an appearance at the charity gala. After all, it was him that had connected you with Together For Short Lives, the organization that Mason had a long-standing relationship with and also the organization benefitting from tonight’s events. Mason’s passion for the charity and its work had sparked something within you, and you had quickly pulled some strings to get your workplace involved with it as well— all of this while you were still together.

So when your boss told you about his contribution to the charity gala and has asked you to be the representative for the business at the auction itself, you knew that seeing Mason would be inevitable.

But it’s been eight months since the split—seven since you last saw him. Surely, you’d be fine by now, you had thought.

Unfortunately, you had thought wrong.

The first glimpse of him in the sleek black suit had sent a sharp pang through your chest, a wave of emotions crashing over you. His hair and beard were neatly trimmed and the softness of it immediately made you think of how it felt when you would run your fingers through it, or the scratch of his beard when you would cradle his jaw in your palm. His shoulders seemed to have grown broader, if that was even possible. His eyes looked brighter, and he seemed far more well-rested than you had seen him in the months leading up to your breakup.

And then the terrifying thought had hit you.

Maybe he was better off without you.

Maybe the breakup had been good for him. Maybe you had been the thing draining him in the last months of your relationship.

You felt the tears spring to your eyes as soon as the thought crossed your mind, blinking them away quickly.

But the thought continued to plague you as the night went on. There were a thousand things that were making you feel unsure of yourself and the thought that your relationship with Mason had actually been detrimental to him was just the cherry on top.

This just wasn’t the kind of event you usually found yourself at, even less a setting that you felt comfortable in. You would much prefer a quite night in or the opportunity to fade into the background. When you had been with Mason, you found yourself at a few events like this one, but you always had him at your side. Often you would allow him to navigate the evening for you, so you didn’t even have to think about anything. Tonight, instead of standing next to you so you cold hold tightly onto his arm when you felt unsteady, he was 100 feet away, engaged in conversation with someone else.

To make matters worse, you had asked a friend of yours to help you find and choose a dress for the evening, and she had insisted you would look and feel great in this elegant, low-cut, dark green dress that had an open back. At the time, she had convinced you that the piece complimented your figure and would make you feel confident and sexy. However, it was completely out of your comfort zone, and you regretted your decision to listen to her as you tugged on parts of the dress to try to cover yourself up more throughout the night.

Between the unfamiliar environment, the dress, and Mason’s presence, everything left you feeling quite unsure of yourself.

When you reached your seating assignment, you were relieved to see that you were familiar with a few of the individuals that were sitting at your table—acquaintances that worked for the same company as you who, no doubt, were also sent as representatives for the charity gala. The relief was short-lived, however, when you realized that, directly in front of you, a mere two tables over, Mason’s seat was directly in your line of sight.

You did your best to sink into the shadows, allowing conversation to flow around you without making any contribution, unless someone directly asked you a question. You also tried your hardest not to look over at Mason— this sight of him happily engaging in conversation, seemingly unaffected by your presence, was too much for your heart to handle.

A wave of relief washed over you when someone got up on the stage, removing any pressure to engage in conversation at the table as everyone turned their attention to the announcer. He spoke a bit about Together for Short Lives and the work that they did, soon announcing that it was time for the items to be auctioned off.

Some of the auction items piqued your interest, seeming like items or experiences that you thought you might enjoy. But any sort of intrigue faded when you heard the amounts of money that some of the gala’s patrons were volunteering for them, quickly realizing you were way out of your depth in this room of people.

Before too long, the announcer introduced a “Manchester United Experience,” involving a tour of the team’s facility, accompanied by the team’s star boy himself. Mason approached the stage, walking up the short flight of stairs as applause rang throughout the room. You didn’t hear much of the discussion of the experience as you got caught up in watching Mason and the playful way he interacted with the announcer and the crowd. His silly boyishness sent a pang through your heart, missing the playful way he used to interact with you.

You could’ve sworn his eyes caught yours as they swept the room, and you flashed him a short, forced smile as a sort of sign of goodwill. You weren’t exactly sure where the two of you stood, but you wanted to show him that you didn’t harbor any negative feelings toward him, despite the loss of contact.

The faintest of smiles tugged at the corner of his lips before he turned his attention back to the announcer who had just asked him a question— one that Mason had to ask him to repeat.

Soon Mason was leaving the stage, having earned an ungodly amount of money for TFSL with his promised tour of Old Trafford.

A sick feeling settled in your gut, knowing it couldn’t be much longer before your company’s contribution was auctioned off. The mere thought of stepping onto that stage sent a rush of fear through your veins.

Before you knew it, you found yourself standing to the side of the stage, awaiting your queue to join the announcer on it. Your palms felt sweaty, your heart racing as you tried your best to compose yourself. Applause rang through the room, and you put all of your focus into not tripping as you walked up the stairs.

The room felt ten times bigger from atop the stage, filled with many more people than you had realized were in attendance. You tried to focus on smiling and nodding at the appropriate moments as the announcer explained what your company was auctioning off.

“And of course, we’re very appreciative of Miss… uhm…”

“Y/L/N,” you spoke quietly as the announcer trailed off.

“Yes, we’re very appreciative of Miss Y/L/N being here with us tonight,” the announcer resumed his charismatic personality after it had faltered briefly. “She’s certainly doing her part to raise money for a good cause. I mean, with this much skin on show, that has to be worth a few extra pounds on your bid, right?”

Your stomach sank to your feet as laughter erupted in the large room. You felt the heat in your cheeks, your smile faltering at his words. You suddenly felt ten times more self-conscious of yourself as you stood on the stage, feeling like a zoo animal being laid bare and displayed for everyone’s entertainment.

“With that, we’re going to start the bidding off at…” The announcers voice faded as the room felt like it was closing in on you. Your eyes flicked through the crowd, jumping from face to face until you found the one you were looking for— Mason.

While everyone else seemed to still be composing themselves from the eruption of laughter at the joke the announcer had made at your expense, Mason’s eyes met yours with the saddest expression you though you had ever seen. You could just barely make out his lips mouthing the words it’s okay, you’re okay, before your misty eyes could no longer make out his face.

You composed yourself just long enough for the announcer to finish off the auction, and you offered him a forced smile before you rushed off of the stage.

All you knew was that you needed to be anywhere but this room. You needed to get out, away from all of the people who had just witnessed your very public humiliation.

You made a beeline toward the back of the large hall that everyone was seated in, spotting the double doors that you knew led out to the hallway. Your heels click on the floor as you push through the doors and find the exit out to the decorative garden off of the side of the building being used for the gala. Thinking a bit of fresh air would do you good, you rushed outside, ignoring the chill that rushed through you as the cold air met your skin. Moving quickly away from the building, you ducked behind some hedges in the hope that no one would see you.

Your breathing was heavy as you tried your best to dampen the emotions welling up inside of you. Your throat felt tight as you fought back the tears of embarrassment, frustration, and regret. Forcing yourself to breath slowly, in through your nose and out through your mouth, you did your best to wipe gently at the corners of your eyes, praying that you wouldn’t ruin the makeup you had done only a few hours before.

“Y/N?” you heard a voice call from around the corner. Your heart sank as you recognized the gentle tone and the footsteps let you know that he was close. This was surely not the circumstances you had hoped to be in when you spoke to him for the first time in months.

You turned your back just in time for Mason to round the corner and find you hiding away in your little nook. There was nothing you hated more than the idea of letting him see you cry in this moment.

“Y/N, love-“

“I’m fine, Mason.” Your voice came out harsher than you had meant for it to. “Really, I’m okay. Just go back to the auction.”

Undeterred by the way you had spoken, Mason took a couple of steps closer to you. “No, you’re not, Y/N. I know you better than that.”

You couldn’t respond, and you knew he hadn’t missed the small sniffle you had let out as you bit your lip to keep it from trembling.

It was only a moment before you felt his fingers gently take hold of your arm, turning you to face him. Your head was bowed low, still unwilling to let him see your misty eyes.

“C’mere, love,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around your torso as he pulled you in for a tight hug. You couldn’t keep yourself from returning the gesture, your arms wrapped under his as you pressed your palms into his broad back to hold him close. You tucked your face into his neck and suddenly, your heart felt more settled than it had in months.

“He had no right to say anything like that— about you or about anyone,” Mason mumbled into your hair, pressing a barely-there kiss to your temple. “It was completely inappropriate, and you have every right to feel upset. I’m so sorry.”

He brought a hand up to cradle the back of your head, holding you closer to him. You didn’t fight it at all, settling into him more and taking comfort in the proximity.

When he could tell that your breathing had steadied, Mason pulled back, still holding you with one arm as he looked down at you with a soft smile.

“There she is.” He brought his free hand up, brushing his thumb gently under your eyes to wipe away a tear that had fallen. The gesture was so gentle and intimate that you felt like your knees were about to give out, thankful that he still had one arm around you to steady you. “Whatever waterproof makeup you’re using is working because you still look perfect,” he joked, warmth flooding through him at the soft giggle you let out before dropping your forehead onto his chest.

“For the record, your dress is beautiful,” Mason said softly. You knew he must have sensed your discomfort with how much skin you had on show, even before the gala announcer had made any comment about it. “And, in the least creepy, predatory way possible, you look amazing tonight.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, wanting to convey your gratitude to him while trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach at his words. The one thing you did like about the mostly open back of the dress is that you could feel Mason’s palm flattened directly against your skin as he held you close, his thumb rubbing back and forth in soothing motions. This, combined with the look in his eye that you couldn’t quite place as he looked down at you, made your skin feel like it was on fire, the heat rising up your neck and into your cheeks.

You brought your hands to his chest, holding the lapels of his jacket in your hand before you spoke quietly. “We should go back inside before anyone realizes we’ve gone.” You felt suddenly overwhelmed by the interaction with him, feeling yourself falling back into old habits without even intending to.

Mason unwound his hands from your waist, seeming a bit discouraged by your comment as he merely nodded, holding his arm out for you to take. You did so, holding onto his elbow to keep yourself steady as he led you back inside.

It was quiet between the two of you, neither sure what to say to the other after the intimate moment in the garden. Once back inside you squeezed his elbow gently, saying, “I’m gonna go freshen up really quickly, but I’ll see you back out there,” with a gentle smile. Mason nodded, letting you step away from him and into the bathroom.

In truth, while you did feel a need to freshen up a bit after the tears you had shed outside, you needed a moment to collect yourself— not because of the auction announcer’s comments, but because of Mason.

You stood at the small sink in the ladies’ room, watching yourself in the mirror as you tried to stop the way your head seemed to be spinning. The last time you had seen Mason was seven months ago, engaged in stiff conversation because neither of you knew how to speak to each other after the breakup. But now, he had come to your rescue without a second thought and held you as if the breakup had never even happened.

And it felt right…

You shook your head, telling yourself not to read too much into it— Mason is a caring person and just because he ran to your side when someone had said something hurtful about you doesn’t mean he wants you back. You were self-aware enough to recognize that you had a tendency to let your thoughts run away with you, and you did your best to shut it down before it got out of hand.

At the same time, Mason’s mind was also running wild. His brain felt as if it was under some sort of fog, intoxicated by the feeling of being able to touch your skin again. He was like an addict who had quit, cold turkey, some months ago, and the first taste of your proximity had nearly done him in. He couldn’t stop thinking of how it felt to be so close to you again— to feel your weight against his body, to smell your shampoo that was still the same, to hear your soft voice, muffled by his own neck, your gentle breaths fanning over his skin.

He was worried that maybe he had been too forward— maybe you hadn’t wanted him to run after you. He didn’t want you to think he felt like he needed to rescue you from every poor situation, but after hearing the announcer’s comments and seeing the way it had so clearly upset you (even though everyone else seemed to have overlooked it), he knew he couldn’t just let you be on your own.

He been wary of overwhelming you, but it felt right to pull you into his arms out in the garden. It felt right to hold you close to him and rub gentle, soothing circles into your back with his thumb, the way he’d always done before.

Mason felt unsure of himself. He worried that your hurry to get back inside was to get away from him. He pondered with the idea of going back into the gala so it didn’t seem like he was hovering. But he battled with himself internally, thinking that you may not have wanted to be left to your own devices.

He hated that the months he had spent apart from you had robbed him of his ability to read you. He just wished he could figure out what was going on in your head.

In the bathroom, if you hadn’t had a full face of makeup on, you would’ve taken this opportunity to splash your face with cold water. However, a few deep breaths while you told yourself to get it together would have to do, and you exited the bathroom, planning to find your way back to your table and leave as soon as the event was over. It would be best, you thought, to not engage too much with Mason to avoid getting your hopes up before they were inevitably crushed.

Those plans were cut short the moment you stepped out of the bathroom and into the building’s foyer. There, Mason was waiting for you, and your stomach did a flip at the soft smile that took over his face when he lifted his head and saw you.

A wave of relief that you hadn’t expected washed over you at the sight of him waiting there.

“It sounds like they’ve wrapped up the auction in there.” Mason jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, gesturing toward the large hall that you had fled from just a bit ago. You could hear the sound of loud conversation and laughter, signaling that Mason was, indeed correct, and the guests would be starting to exit the hall soon.

Unsure of what you were meant to say, you were thankful when Mason spoke up again. “Look, I’m here, and you’re welcome to stick with me if you’re still feeling a bit overwhelmed, but if you want me to just leave you be, I understa-”

“No, please,” you rushed to cut him off, the thought of having the face the room full of people before you alone sending a feeling of dread down your spine. “I mean… I just… can I just walk with you?” Your voice was small when you spoke again, feeling pathetic for being incapable of facing an event without him by your side.

A warm feeling spread across Mason’s chest at your words, feeling a sense of pride that his presence made you feel even a little bit safer in the unfamiliar environment. Wordlessly, he offered his arm to you again, a reassuring smile on his lips.

As much as you wanted to portray yourself as an independent person who was able to take care of yourself, you had to admit that the rest of the evening felt much easier with Mason at your side. It was so easy to slip back into the same old routine—everyone wanted to talk to the star footballer, and you were happy to stand quietly at his side while he shook hands and unleashed his irresistible charm on each one.

Mason kept you close to him at all times, and the warmth of him settled your nerves tremendously. The gentle placement of his hand on your lower back sent tingles up your spine every time, and it took everything in you not to wrap your arms around his waist, afraid of overstepping.

It wasn’t much longer before Mason was leaning down, mumbling in your ear to ask if you were ready to leave. He knew this wasn’t your scene at all and had been looking for an opportunity to get you out of there since the two of you had stepped back into the gathering hall.

You had to hold back a shiver as his breath fanned over your neck, nodding in response. You let him know you just had to pop over to your table to grab your things and he nodded, following as you led the way.

Once you had retrieved your clutch and bid as quick of a goodbye as you could muster to those that were still lingering at your table, you and Mason turned to leave, heading back toward the set of doors you had entered through. The hall had grown more crowded, and as you weaved between tables, you allowed Mason to grasp your hand, leading the way through the sea of people so you wouldn’t be separated.

As you entered the foyer, Mason tugged you forward gently so that you returned to his side. The two of you exchanged a short smile.

“Is your hotel close by?” you asked, trying to make a bit of small talk as the two of you walked toward the exit.

When the bridge of Mason’s nose went red, a shy but unsure smile on his face, you slapped a hand over your face, realizing the double meaning of your question.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” you felt the heat in your face as you, no doubt, were turning bright red. “I was just trying to make small talk. Clearly, I’m not good at it.”

“No, no, it’s okay.” Mason couldn’t hold back his laughter. “Uh, I’m actually making the drive back to Manchester tonight. We’ve got training tomorrow morning, so I’ve got to get home.” Mason reached the door, holding it open for you. “What about you? Are you nearby?”

“Yeah, actually.” The two of you reached the sidewalk in front of the building, coming to a stop as you turned toward each other. “I’m supposed to be a hotel just a bit that way.” You pointed behind him, toward the accommodations that your job was paying for.

There was a beat of silence between the two of you.

“You know… you’re welcome to tag along back to Manchester with me, if you wanted to. I could use the company to keep me awake.” Mason smiled softly at you, remembering how much you hated staying in hotels.

“Don’t you have Lewis or someone with you? I wouldn’t want to impose.”

Mason shook his head in response, mumbling a quiet, “just me.” He was subtly rocking back and forth on his feet, and you could tell he was nervous about your answer.

Getting to go home, rather than sleeping in an uncomfortable hotel bed did sound pretty nice after the turn your night had taken.

Mason watched your eyebrows furrow in thought, an anxious feeing settling in his tummy as he awaited your response.

“You’re sure?”

Mason did his best to conceal the excitement he felt at the idea of getting to spend a couple more hours with you. “Yeah, I’m sure,” he whispered. “Come on, you and I both know you won’t get any sleep in that hotel bed.”

You couldn’t deny that he was right.

It wasn’t long before you were ducking into the passenger seat of Mason’s car, making sure the bottom of your dress was all the way in before Mason closed the door behind you.

The drive started out quiet, neither of you sure how to navigate the situation that you found yourself in. But as soon as you asked Mason about the FA Cup quarterfinal win over Liverpool where he had made his return following injury, his face lit up and things felt like they were almost back to normal.

You did your best to keep the topic of conversation on Mason and his life, not wanting to speak about yourself. Any time he seemed to be coming to the end of one topic, you were sure to ask another question before he had the chance to ask one to you.

Because, truth be told, life had been nothing but dull since the two of you had parted ways. Seeing him tonight was the most interesting thing to happen to you since… well, since the last time you’d seen him.

It was no secret that the transition to Manchester had been difficult for the both of you. There was no doubt it had contributed to the ending of your relationship. Leaving behind your friends, your old flat, and all of the things you had known had been no easy task. Thankfully, you had been able to stay in the same line of work, merely transferring to a new location. But you had struggled to adjust to the new, unfamiliar city, even more so when you didn’t have Mason at your side. Weekend visits back to London to visit your old friends were all that had kept you going in the last months.

As you listened to Mason telling stories of all of the fun things he had gotten up to with the boys on the team that he had grown closer with, the self-doubt creeped back in. He seemed to be doing so much better since the two of you called things off, and again your mind told you that maybe he was better off without you.

Mason noticed the change in your demeanor almost immediately. The car grew quiet, and you sat with your head leaned against the window, watching the lights as they passed. It may have been months since he last saw you, but he could recognize the signs of you overthinking from a mile away, unsure of whether it was about the announcer’s comments from earlier in the night or the fact that you were sitting in a car with him.

Wanting to provide a bit of reassurance, Mason reached over, taking your hand in his, bringing it up to his face, and pressing a quick kiss to the back of it. He placed your hand back in your lap, moving to put his back on the steering wheel, but your grip tightened slightly to prevent him from doing so. Your head remained pressed against the glass, but the small gesture brought a smile to Mason’s face as he shifted to intertwine his fingers with yours.

Mason didn’t press you for conversation, allowing you the space to process the events of the night however you needed to. Before long, Mason heard the soft sound of your deep, steady breathing, and a quick glance in your direction revealed that you had drifted off to sleep, your hand relaxed in his. The dull ache that had settled in his chest all night grew a bit sharper as he stole a few glances in your direction, admiring the peaceful expression on your face.

As much as he tried to hide it, as much as he tried to put on a brave face and talk about all of the amazing things that had been going on in his like recently, he couldn’t deny…

He missed you.

He missed having you like this, at his side at the end of a long day. He missed the feeling of ease that washed over him just by knowing you were close by and being able to have that same effect on you. He missed catching up with you at the end of the day, instead of trying to accurately recap the seven months that had passed since he’d last seen you.

He just missed you being in his life and had spent the last eight months trying to find out how to get you back in it.

*

You were jostled awake as you heard the sound of a car door closing. You sat up straight, blinking your eyes a few times as you tried your best to figure out where you were. You recognized the interior of Mason’s car, a flash of confusion running through you before the memories of the night came flooding back in.

The car door at your side opened, Mason appearing at your side as he crouched down, offering you the gentlest of smiles.

“Hey there, love,” he spoke softly, and the kind look in his eyes made your heart flutter. “You fell asleep on the way back, and I realized I don’t know where your new flat is.”

The little flutter of your heart quickly died, the reality of your failed relationship crashing back in after you had been able to put it to the back of your mind for much of the night since Mason had come to your aid.

“O-Oh, I’m sorry,” you shook your head, reaching for your bag to pull out your phone. “I’ll just order a car, I’m so sor-”

“Don’t be silly, just stay here. I’ve got some extra things you can use, and I’m going into training late tomorrow anyway, so I can drop you at home on my way,” Mason smiled at you, and the way his eyes shone hopefully meant you wouldn’t need much convincing, whispering a soft “okay” in reply.

Mason took your hand, helping you out of the car and leading you inside as you wiped your bleary eyes. He led you to his room, releasing your hand as he wandered through the room, laying out a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants for you to wear. He wandered to the bathroom for a few moments. When he emerged, you watched with confusion as he collected a few things in his hands and walked toward his door.

“You can sleep in here tonight. I still had some of your skincare products left over from before, so they’re out on the counter,” he smiled at you. “I’ll just be in the guest room, if you need anything.”

His generosity caught you off-guard, and before you could come up with a response, he placed a quick kiss to the top of your head and left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

You stood in the middle of the room for a moment, just looking around, taking it all in. You never would have suspected that you’d find yourself here again, and you couldn’t wrap your head around the turn that this night had taken.

Finally snapping yourself out of it, you slipped out of your dress, pulling Mason’s shirt over your head. The scent of his cologne mixed with the laundry detergent he always used brought a wave of emotion crashing over you, and your lower lip wobbled as you walked into the bathroom.

Along with a spare toothbrush that he had set out for you, all of your skincare products were lined up on the counter, and the thought that he had held onto them for you after all this time was what finally caused the tears the spill down your cheeks, the emotions of the night finally catching up with you.

When you crawled into the bed, face washed and feeling fresher after the long night, you allow the tears to flow, pressing your face into Mason’s pillow.

All of it was so overwhelming. Seeing him again after so long. How unsure you had felt of yourself throughout the night. Being humiliated in front of an entire audience. The way Mason had run to your side without a moment’s hesitation. The way it had felt so natural to fall back into conversation with him, to touch him, for him to touch you. Being back in the house that you had once shared with him.

It was all too much.

Not even 30 feet away, Mason was lying on his back in the guest bed, eyes wide open as he stared at the ceiling. There was no way he was falling asleep any time soon, the thought of you in his bed only a few steps away enough to keep him awake.

After an hour had passed, accompanied by only his racing thoughts, Mason toyed with the idea of sneaking down to his room to see if you were awake. There were a thousand things he wanted to say to you, and he felt like he was going to explode if he didn’t get to say them soon.

But he thought better of it, guessing that you were probably already asleep, and he didn’t want to disturb you.

However, Mason had guessed wrong. Instead, you were lying on your side, legs tucked up close to your body, staring at the small, framed photo of the two of you on Mason’s side table. It had always been there during your relationship, and the thought that he had kept it in the time since you had split brought such a weight of sadness over you that you felt sick.

Did he miss you the way you missed him? Did he, too, regret not fighting harder for your relationship with every day that passed?

The thought kept you awake until the early hours of the morning.

When Mason awoke the next morning, a heavy exhaustion weighed on him as he had only slept a few hours, tossing and turning the entire time. He crawled out of bed and slipped a shirt over his head, his feet padding softly on the carpeted floor as he moved down the hallway to check on you. He noticed that the door to his room was already open, and when he peeked his head in, you were nowhere to be found.

From the way the blankets were shifted, Mason could tell that you had slept on his side of the bed, and his chest tightened at the thought.

The sound of clinking pots and pans coming from the kitchen caused Mason’s ears to perk up and led him in that direction.

As Mason rounded the corner, he found you, with your back facing him, standing in front of the oven. Your hair, falling across your shoulders, still held some of the curl that you had done for the event the night prior. Mason’s heart clenched at the sight of you in his shirt and a pair of his sweatpants.

A few pans and bowls were scattered across the stovetop and counters, and Mason recognized all of the components of the hearty breakfast you used to make when both of you had the day off. The combination of smells was so specific, and the déjà vu nearly made him dizzy.

You turned around, reaching for a bowl on the counter and jumped slightly when you saw Mason there.

“Sorry,” he breathed, still at a bit of a loss for words. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you like that.”

You just gave him a small smile and a short “s’okay” as you turned back to the stove. “Sorry if I woke you.” Your voice sounded so small—Mason hated it. He hated the tension that hung in the air between the two of you. He hated the fact that you had nearly become strangers to each other.

In the hours that you had spent, lying awake with your thoughts running wild in Mason’s bed, you had resolved to avoid complicating things further than they already had been. Things were awkward enough between the two of you after Mason had graciously come to the rescue, despite the ending of your relationship, and you were determined to make it home without making it worse.

You owed it to yourself— your feelings for Mason were still there, hidden just beneath the surface. But you refused to put yourself out there and put your heart through that pain again.

You wished you had it in you to be cold with him, completely cutting off any chance of rekindling something between the two of you— any risk of getting your hopes up. But you knew Mason, and you knew that he often wore his heart on his sleeve, and you couldn’t bring yourself to hurt him like that, either.

But despite your resolve and determination, the sorrow-filled gaze in Mason’s eyes had already begun to pierce through the armor that you had put around your heart.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched as Mason slipped into one of the chairs on the opposite side of the island countertop. His eyes followed you as you finished preparing the last of the breakfast. You dished out two plates— a portion for yourself and another, larger portion for Mason.

“You didn’t have to do all this, you know?” Mason spoke softly as you set the plate in front of him.

You shrugged, standing on the opposite side of the island from him as you stared down at your own plate. “It’s the least I could do. It’s your food anyway,” you mumbled, poking at your eggs with a fork, suddenly feeling too sick to eat anything.

“Well, thank you, Y/N,” Mason said, earnestly. “I really appreciate it.”

Mason couldn’t help but feel discouraged by your stony demeanor. He had hoped that after the night prior, the two of you might be on the right path to sorting things out between you, but now he wasn’t so sure.

He kept stealing quick glances at you as he ate, savoring every delicious bite. But he could tell how uneasy you felt as you stood there, tucking your hair behind your ear as you took small bites from your plate.

The tension was thick as the two of you ate in silence, neither one sure how to even begin the conversation. Did you talk about last night, or leave the topic untouched?

The longer the silence stretched between the two of you, the heavier the weight on your heart grew. As much as you had tried not to get your hopes up, and as many times as you told yourself that your relationship with Mason was well and truly over, a small part of you had still hoped that he would say something this morning— anything, really. That small part of you wanted to believe that this chance encounter was the key—a sign that the two of you needed to find your way back to each other.

But despite it all, the spark that you had hoped was still there seemed to have been snuffed out.

You kept your eyes glued to your plate, afraid that Mason would see them shining with tears and start asking questions. You didn’t want him to think you were pathetic— needing him to rescue you the night before and now here, standing in his kitchen, crying because he didn’t want you back.

You took a breath and steeled yourself to pack up your things from his room and get the fastest Uber back home you could manage.

Swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, you scraped the last of your food into the trashcan, no longer able to stomach another bite, and placed the empty dish in the sink. You left the kitchen as quickly as you could, trying to hide your face from Mason as the first tears fell.

Mason was taken by surprise at your sudden rush to leave the room, the noise a stark contrast to the silence that had hung thick in the air. He watched your back as you walked out without so much as a glance in his direction.

His stomach sank. He had hoped, after lying awake all night thinking of you, that you had been cooking breakfast for him as a sort of sign—a signal that you wanted to talk things over again and revisit the topic of him and you. But the unpleasant aura that had remained between the two of you while you ate had gotten you no closer to that conversation.

Maybe he had read too far into things. Maybe the breakfast had just been a ‘thank you’ for driving you back to Manchester last night. Maybe he had pushed too far and inviting you to stay at his was too much, too soon.

Mason pushed his plate away from him, dropping his head into his hands and huffing a sigh as he felt his eyes burn with tears that surprised him. He hadn’t realized just how much the last 24 hours had gotten his hopes up for reigniting a relationship with you until you seemed to have walked away from it altogether.

It was almost like he could feel his heart breaking all over again.

But no, Mason resolved. He refused to let you walk away from him again, not until he had fully expressed to you how deeply he missed you, how much he still cared for you.

With renewed determination, Mason stood from his chair and nearly ran to his bedroom.

Standing outside of his own bedroom door, Mason hesitated for a moment, again overthinking his decision to confront the issue head-on.

But that didn’t last for more than a second before he was tapping his knuckles gently on the door three times.

“You can come in,” he heard your small voice.

When he opened the door, slowly, he found you just returning from the bathroom, several of your own items in hand. As you attempted to collect all of your things, Mason didn’t miss the tear you tried to inconspicuously wipe from your cheek or the soft sniffle you tried to hide with a cough. His heart softened— seeing you cry had always been one of the things he hated most.

“I have an Uber on the way. Should be here any minute. I don’t want to ask you to drive me again,” you spoke hurriedly, as if overcompensating for your fragile state by talking too much. “I can, um, just wash these clothes and drop them off sometime. I really-“

You were cut off when you turned to walk around to the other side of the bed and instead, ran straight into Mason’s chest.

He steadied you with a hand on each of your arms. He held an unreadable expression on his face, and you knew there was no hiding the tear streaks on your cheeks now. However, Mason’s eyes shone with as he looked down at you.

It was silent for several seconds until Mason spoke in a whisper, pleading.

“Don’t go.”

And the silence returned. Your thoughts were spinning a mile a minute. Your mouth dropped open, your brain making its most valiant attempt at forming a response, and yet no words came to you.

Mason took your loss for words as an invitation to continue. “I miss mornings like this. I miss falling asleep with you in my arms and waking up next to you. I miss talking to you at the end of the day,” his lower lip wobbled as he paused to collect himself. “I miss you, Y/N.”

His words pierced right to your heart. Whatever walls you had built to keep him out were nowhere near strong enough and you could already feel them beginning to crumble.

“Letting you walk away was the biggest mistake of my life, and I’ve spent every day since then wishing I could go back and change it all. I would’ve fought harder for you— for us.” Mason pleaded softly. “Seeing you last night made me realize that none of that has gone away, I still feel the way I did before. Please— please tell me you feel it, too.”

The tears poured freely from your eyes now, and there was no holding them back. You rolled your lips into your mouth, attempting to hold in a sob. Mason’s hands left your arms, coming up to cradle your cheeks as you closed your eyes, leaning into his touch. His thumbs swiped at your cheeks, trying to dry your tears.

“I can’t, Mason. W-We can’t,” your voice trembled.

“Why can’t we?” Mason was desperate, resting his forehead against yours. The proximity was making your head spin, the feeling of his breath fanning across your face too familiar, too overwhelming.

“Who’s to say it won’t be the same as the last time?” you cried, finally looking back at him. “I can’t go through that pain, not again.”

“We decide that it’ll be different.” Mason was ready to get on his knees and beg if he had to. “Things will be better this time— I’ll be better.”

He knew that what you had was worth fighting for, and if there was any chance—even a shred of hope—that you would give him another shot, he had to take it.

You looked up into his tear-filled eyes as he whispered, “I just know I can’t lose you, Y/N, not again.”

Like a dam breaking loose, a sob wracked your body at his words. Whatever had been left of the walls you had built up came crashing to the ground. Mason was quick to pull you into his chest, resting his cheek on the top of your head as he rubbed soothing circles into your back.

It was like all of the hurt and emotions from the last eight months tore through you at once. Mason, feeling the way your frame was shaking, held you tightly to him, as if he were the only thing holding you together in that moment. He kissed the top of your head, and you could hear him sniffle, knowing that he was crying, too.

As your cries grew softer and you began to calm down, you clutched Mason’s shirt tightly in your fists, afraid that if you released him, he would disappear.

Mason eventually leaned back to look at you and you lifted your head from where it was buried in his chest. There was the softest hint of a smile on his face as he tried to wipe away the remaining tears.

“I-If we do this…” Mason’s tummy flipped at your words, clinging to the sense of hope that they brought. “If we give this another chance, we have to take it slow.”

Mason nodded quickly, his eyes flicking all over your face for any sign of hesitation. “Anything you need, love. Anything at all.”

Your lower lip wobbled as you took him in. “I’ve missed you so much, Masey.”

Mason pressed his lips firmly to your forehead, his heart soaring at the use of his nickname. “I’m here now, and I’m not leaving— never again.”

You leaned forward, pressing your face into his neck and hugged him again, trying to drink if the feeling of being back in his arms. You let him overwhelm your senses— the feeling of his arms around your body, his comforting scent as you breathed him in, the sound of his heartbeat that calmed you so easily.

“I know we’re taking it slow, but I have a couple more hours until training,” Mason spoke softly as you pulled back, looking up at him. A hopeful smile played on his lips. “Will you stick around? Cancel your Uber. I can take you home on my way.”

“Are you sure?” There was still that shred of lingering doubt, the fear of imposing yourself.

“I’m so sure,” he smiled. “I don’t think i’m ready to let go of you just yet.”

You couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped your lips before you whispered a soft “okay.”

Never, when you left for the gala the night before, did you think this was where you would find yourself—back at Mason’s house, as he led you to the couch to cuddle while you talked about what your next steps would be. But as you lay in his arms, admiring the soft scattering of freckles across his cheeks, you felt a piece of your heart that had been missing those last few months begin to heal.

And you couldn’t be more thankful that you had your boy back.

As always, your feedback is greatly appreciated!!! 🤍

tag list:

@hischierswhore @thoseboysinblue @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @masonsrem @brasiliangp @neverinadream @lizzypotter14 @notsoattractivearenti @chilwellspulisic @sid-vii @captainpulisic

[wttcsms]

if you feel like falling (catch me on the way down) | ONE

ᝰ.ᐟ after getting your heart broken by professional soccer player, rin itoshi, all because he loved the game more than you, you officially swear off all men — especially athletes. your publicist doesn't get that memo, though, and you find yourself roped into a fake relationship with yoichi isagi, who isn't just a pro soccer player, but also your ex's rival. things could get messy. ( fem!reader )

pairing yoichi isagi x reader (endgame), past! rin itoshi x reader word count 2.9k chapter synopsis there are certain perks to having a relationship that operates on a "private not secret" basis. for example, you're allowed at least two weeks before the batshit crazy people online figure out that little miss it girl just got her ass dumped. chapter contains partying to cope, social drinking, diet culture, this fic is so chronically online LOL author's notes so normally, i would organize the fic's different arcs or acts by explicitly saying "act 1" or whatever. like i said, we're gonna be chronically online, so the arcs are described as different "eras" and when it's a new arc, we'll get a new era 🤭 each era has special graphics for it: what the media sees vs what's actually going on. think of the era intro as a moodboard for the chapters that'll follow <3

⋆˚࿔ CURRENT ERA: PARTY GIRL 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ from the outside, it's giving irl serena van der woodsen but even better, no one can possibly have the same 24 hours as you, someone needs to convince you to drop the skincare routine STAT, matter of fact - we just need your whole game card

— guest starred on the hottest pop culture podcast where it was basically just a glaze session for you (besides the last 10 minutes where the host started asking about rin), articles that want to help readers live your (unattainable if you're not rich!) lifestyle, and a devoted fanpage that updates your every move... every move.

on the inside, it's actually giving listening and actually relating to sad music, asking an 8 ball if you're the problem, being desperate enough to believe those tiktoks that say if you claim this sound and interact 3x he'll text you back, wondering when you should mail him back his stuff, keeping busy in the public eye so no one suspects how miserable you are right now

— even spotify clocked you and it's auto-generated, customized playlist perfectly depicts what you're going through (talk about the saddest soundtrack to your life), got desperate and consulted quora (this is how you know you're at rockbottom). not shown: your credit card statement (retail therapy works, right? right?!)

“Promise you’ll be on your best behavior?” Yukimiya peers over his sunglasses so he can give you a very pointed look. You tilt your head innocently.

“When am I ever not?” 

Yukimiya lets out a very loud, very drawn out, very exasperated sigh. When have you not been on your best behavior? Well, just last month, you got drunk, stumbled out to your garage, hopped in your custom-wrapped pink Porsche, and somehow ended up falling asleep on top of the hood. (In your defense, at least even in a drunken stupor, you weren’t stupid enough to drive.) Last week, you collected the numbers of about eight different athletes and models, sufficiently led every single one of them on, and are now actively ghosting all of them because they committed the cardinal sin of not sounding like, feeling like, or being anything like Rin. And speaking of the devil, Rin’s the reason why just last night, you ended up blocking not just him from your social media, but his whole entire team, too. You felt vindicated when you did this at 2 AM. Yeah, because that’ll sure show him! He hasn’t looked at your story once since the breakup (not that you’ve been keeping track or anything), but in case he tries to play it cool and gets one of his teammates to view it on his behalf, you’ll have put a stop to that plan. 

(Even when you’re spiraling, you’re still painfully aware of the fact that Rin’s most likely doing okay, if not still performing at his best. He is most certainly not doing something as childish as getting his teammates to relay info on you to him. Meanwhile, you are apparently a social liability for your closest friends. Spectacular.) 

“Don’t answer that.” You tell him. “I don’t want to know what my life looks like through your eyes.” It’s bad enough that every little thing you do gets documented, photographed, and then sensationalized on the Internet, but it’s one thing for strangers to commentate on your behavior when they don’t even have the full story. It’s another thing entirely when it’s your best friend criticizing your current lifestyle. 

“I’m just saying, it’s going to be a very casual lunch with my favorite people. Not a party.” Yukimiya clarifies. 

“Kenyu, you do realize that inviting me to a birthday party, and then saying ‘it’s not a party’ is kind of giving mixed signals right now.” Now it’s your turn to give him a pointed look, but just like his, there’s no true venom behind it. It’s Kenyu’s birthday celebration, anyway. You’re not about to corrupt Mr. Catholic Private School and tell him to throw a fucking rager. 

“If my team gets their way, there probably will be an actual party. If there is, you’ll be the first one I give the details to.” There’s a distant shout in the back; the photographer is done with his lunch, and he’s ready to wrap this shoot up. Kenyu examines his hair in the vanity mirror before getting out of his chair and giving you a quick hug. Your photos have already been taken, and there’s really no point for you to be on set still. 

However, Kenyu’s on set. Your only other viable option is to just go home and hide under your covers, rewatching Someone Great on Netflix and Doordashing Ben & Jerry’s. Juliette is home in France and won’t be coming back until the end of the month, and you’re not really in the mood to see any of your other friends. It’s tiring being around people who can’t separate front-cover-of-Vogue you from the real you. If you’re going to have to fake a smile, it might as well be on set rather than grabbing brunch with people who would kill to be able to leak something as headline-inducing as your breakup. 

“Pinky promise?” You look up at Yukimiya. “You promise to tell me about the party even if I’ll make a fool of myself because apparently I don’t act on my best behavior?” 

He rolls his eyes at your comment. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way, and you know that. Besides, you could never make a fool of yourself. Anything you do is declared iconic, anyway.”

Having a famous movie director as a father and a certified Hollywood starlet as a mother, life wasn’t just set at easy mode for you. You practically were given an unlimited money hack and started off with like, five times the XP compared to any other beginner. At thirteen, you told your parents that for your birthday, you wanted to become a model. Two phone calls and a private jet flight later, and you had signed with the best modeling agency in the country and had your first ever photoshoot booked. 

Fate gave you parents with connections, and you’d be a fool to not use it to your advantage. Fate also gave you the same photoshoot as another young model, and you’d be a fool to not befriend Kenyu Yukimiya immediately. Out of all the friends you’ve ever made, fate only gives you good luck twice: first with Yuki, then with Juliette. You used to think you got lucky three times — meeting Rin for the first time was like experiencing something cosmic. Now you know better. Even rich people can have shit luck, too. 

Today’s unlucky situation is the way Yukimiya’s “favorite people” all happen to be athletes. There’s not a single person here who isn’t his teammate or somehow related to Bastard Munchen, except for you. If you didn’t love Yukimiya so much, you would have hauled ass. It’s normally easy enough for you to avoid soccer players at parties because they don’t normally get invited to the same social events you do, but now you’re the odd one out. 

At least the food is good. You don’t have a photoshoot scheduled until next week, and that’s exactly why you’re comfortable with choking down half a bagel sandwich rather than socialize with the guys seated by you. Yukimiya’s real big on intimacy and the power of friendship or whatever, which is probably easier to achieve when you play a team sport versus the modeling industry, where good jobs are few and far between, and the reason why some models are so skinny is because they can’t afford to eat — literally and figuratively. If they’re not booking jobs, there’s no way they can buy groceries in this economy. 

He has everyone assembled at one long table in the massive backyard of his mansion. It’s honestly kind of Last Supper-core, but it fits him. Little Yuki’s finally old enough to have a seat at the big kid’s table. He’s sitting across from you, and you’re sandwiched between Kunigami and Hiori. Next to Yukimiya is Isagi. Out of everyone at this party, soccer player or not, Isagi is the person you want to avoid the most. So far, you think you’ve managed to skirt under his radar. If everything goes as planned, you’ll be able to leave this lunch with your belly full and not having to interact with anybody. It’s looking like you won’t even have to drink in order to get through this. 

“Hey, out of all of us at this table, who d’ya think would have the best shot at being a model?” Hiori is clearly speaking to you. The blue-haired player is looking directly at you, for God’s sake. You wonder if it’ll be mean to blatantly ignore him, but considering how this little question seems to have captured the attention of the surrounding players, it looks like pretending you’re hard of hearing is out of the question. 

Inside, you’re dying. The last thing you wanted to do was socialize, but it’d be selfish and bratty to request that Yukimiya find more time in his busy schedule to have a one-on-one celebration with you. You’re here to support your friend. You can stomach being friendly with boys who have probably seen Rin more recently than you’ve last seen him. Fuck — why are you thinking about Rin? Do not think about Rin!

You grab one of the premade mimosas from the tray in the center of the table. You down the glass in one swift gulp. On the outside, you flash Hiori a bright smile and give an airy giggle. “Why? You trying to get a foot into the industry?” 

Hiori’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink. “W-well, no. Just wanted to make conversation.” 

“No worries! I’ve been trying to keep up with whatever you guys are talking about, but even after all this time being friends with Kenyu, I still don’t really get soccer.” Your smile is still intact. You reach for another mimosa. 

“Rin didn’t teach you anything?” 

Ever since you entered the industry, you knew that you had to get comfortable with standing out. No — you needed to thrive on standing out. You needed to crave, to rely on, people’s undying attention in order to survive. In the eyes of the media, you’re the center of attention. You got what every girl your age wants. At this table, everyone’s eyes are focused on you. What you want is to be back in your room, away from their prying gazes and curious stares.

But you’re a trained professional. Your smile never slides off, never turns into a grimace. You give a casual shrug, directing your answer to the person who mentioned Rin in the first place. 

“I make it a rule to not discuss work when we’re together.” You look at Isagi, asking him with your eyes if that’s a good enough explanation for him. He holds your gaze, looking at you like he sees right through you.

You drink another mimosa. 

After loosening up because of the drinks, you find casual conversation with the Munchen players to be easy. The boys honestly never shut up, and you don’t know what they’re talking about half the time, but you’re cracking genuine smiles every so often, and by the time Yukimiya is going around and saying his thanks for everyone showing up, you are…

Not drunk, per se. You’ve built up quite the tolerance these past few weeks, and it’s hard to get wasted off of drinks that are basically three-fourths orange juice. (Seriously, was Yukimiya getting stingy with the champagne? Sober You might be able to acknowledge the fact that Yukimiya might have just been preparing for the Worst Case Scenario, which would be you hogging all the drinks to yourself. Which sort of happened. Fuck. Sometimes it sucks to be known so well.) You’re definitely tipsy, though. Maybe half a tier above tipsy? Whatever the case, you are definitely in no shape to drive. 

“Kenny,” you whine out his nickname, trying your best to pull out your puppy-dog eyes. “Please take me home.” 

“Ah, damnnit, [Name].” He runs his fingers through his dark curls. “Did you seriously get drunk off of orange juice?” 

“Champagne drunk is the best drunk. I’m pretty sure People Magazine quoted me on that like, last year, so it’s basically fact.” Yukimiya doesn’t seem overly impressed. “And I’m not drunk, but my alcohol levels right now are definitely above the legal limit. Sorry, but I don’t plan on making headlines for a DUI. Hard to spin that into something iconic.” 

This gets Yukimiya to crack a smile. “I thought you were leaning into the party girl look?” 

“Yeah, but after Justin Timberlake got caught for intoxicated driving, he made it look totally lame. He ruined it for us!” 

“I wish I could drive you back, but I have to retake some photos for this sneaker ad I’m doing, and with traffic, I’m really cutting it close already. Do you want to just come with, or hang out at my place until I get back? You should’ve said something sooner; I could’ve asked one of the guys to drop you off.”

You crinkle your nose. “No, thanks. I’m not a fan of strangers knowing where I live.” Becoming a model at such a young age thrust you into the spotlight. With media attention comes total pervs who lurk in Reddit threads and 4Chan, and stumbling upon some of the things said about you, reading the things they would do to you if they found you, all laid out in disgusting, graphic detail, left you kind of paranoid. Getting doxxed might be one of your worst fears. No Ubers. No car ride homes with strangers. “I’ll wait here. It’s been a while since I went through your things, so I’m sure there’ll be enough of your dirty secrets to uncover to keep me occupied.” 

“Did you need a ride?” 

Shitty luck, indeed. 

The teammate who decided to stay behind to help clean up (because he’s just that outstanding of a guy) is the sole reason for why you went buckwild on the mimosas. You can see why Rin was always frustrated with him.

“Nope—” You say, at the same exact time as Yukimiya nods enthusiastically. 

“Would you mind? [Name] actually lives pretty close by, so it might not be out of the way.” 

You shoot Yukimiya a scathing glare. He ignores it completely, smiling at Isagi. 

“I don’t mind. That is, if you don’t mind.” Isagi is looking at you expectantly. Yukimiya trusts him. And you trust Yukimiya. By some sort of logic, you should reasonably be able to trust Isagi. It’s clear that Kenyu wants you to carpool with him, anyway, otherwise he wouldn’t have been so happy to dump you onto him. 

“Sure. I’m ready to go whenever you are.” 

What would happen if you jumped out of a moving vehicle? 

At best, you’d get your pretty skin all scraped up, meaning your photoshoots would either have to be delayed, or you would have to endure all the clear distaste for your “unprofessionalism” in the workplace from the people who actually had to work to get to where they’re at. At worst, you end up hospitalized. Somehow, it seems easier to photoshop out a few cuts and scrapes than working with someone in a full-body cast.

As you weigh the pros and cons of jumping out of Yoichi Isagi’s vehicle — a sleek, black sedan that’s top of the line, sure, but understated luxury; it’s not flashy like the sports cars you see most athletes sporting — he smoothly reverses out of Yukimiya’s driveway. Isagi does that boyish thing where he ignores his backup camera completely and opts to rest one hand on the back of the passenger headrest, the other hand on the steering wheel. Fuck. Maybe it’s not a boyish thing. Maybe it’s manly. Isagi leans a bit into your space; not enough to bother you, but enough to where you can smell the scent of his cologne. He smells clean and fresh. Maybe it’s not cologne, but laundry detergent and fabric softener. Somehow, you find this very fitting of him. 

He glances out the window to check for traffic and eases you two onto the open road. 

He’s not playing any music, and you’re sure as hell not about to ask for the aux. You look out the window instead, watching the world pass you by through tinted glass. It makes everything around you appear darker. Somehow, you find this to be very fitting for you.

“You live around this area, yeah?” Isagi asks you, and you’re reminded that if you want to go home, you actually have to let the driver know where home is. 

“Yeah, sorry. Keep heading straight, and I’ll let you know when there’s a turn coming up.” Talking to Isagi shouldn’t feel so awkward. After all, you managed to talk (and actually enjoy talking) to all of Yukimiya’s teammates. You even got along well with Kaiser. But it just feels weird — you’ve never met him directly, but you’ve heard so much about him, that it’s hard to not see Rin’s rants every time you look at Isagi. 

So you don’t — look at Isagi, that is. You look at everything else. His car is clean. There are air fresheners in the AC vents. The floor of the passenger seat is oddly clean, like no one ever sits here. If that’s the case, you hope your heels didn’t track in any grass blades or dirt. 

“Um,” Isagi awkwardly clears his throat at a red light. “When I mentioned Rin earlier at the party…” 

“What about it?” Fuck, this is so embarrassing. Since the car is stationary, you’re in the clear, right? If you just unlock the door, you can escape on foot. Your house is now close enough that it’ll just count as today’s exercise. 

“Sorry for bringing him up. I didn’t know—”

“—didn’t know what?” You turn to face him. His jaw is surprisingly sharp, and you watch the way he swallows before he answers you. 

“I didn’t know that you two broke up.” 

No one knows that you two broke up. You’re still in the process of making sense of it all, and because you’re so messed up over it, naturally you had to confide in Yukimiya and Juliette. Neither of them would ever share that secret, though. 

So why the hell does Yoichi Isagi know?

“The light’s green.” You tell him, shifting your body in the seat, avoiding him by positioning yourself even closer to the door. 

Neither of you say anything else during the drive.

[kodared]

✰ Stanford & Borrower/Anomaly Reader ✰

fears not enough they have to tear him apart.

Chapter 2/?

Wordcount: 2,684 / 4,741

➤ Summary Based on the borrowers of many universes! I hope you enjoy it, and if you don't know about borrowers, let me be your guide into a world I've loved since I was young. ✰Written because I saw the severe lack of borrower content in Gravity Falls fanfic, i hope you enjoy <3 ✰ - ★Updates irregularly! I write when I want ★ ★ - Also on AO3! - ★

You had spent the better half of that night scheming of ways actually to put your plan into motion. Sure the basic idea sounded easy enough, but you were only about 6 inches tall. His journal might even be taller than you. You tried not to let that thought bother you. 

You had even turned the string lights in your makeshift home on. If you were to think of ways to get the page you needed a comfortable space. You never liked sitting in the dark. 

The only sound in your room was your feet hitting the wooden plank you used as a floor while you paced in a circle. It had to be late at this point, and you could check and see if Ford was still awake, but you knew he’d still be up. 

Once he was enamored by something he stayed up studying, it felt weird for you to be that something, but here you were. 

If you were to take the page out of his journal, you needed something sharp to rip it out. Your needle wouldn’t work, it would take too long to rip the paper. You weren’t too keen on the idea of being caught by the scientist. 

You needed something more similar to a knife a human would use. You knew better than to think of making your own. You weren’t much of a blacksmith or crafter, you tinkered with a lot of things sure, but nothing extravagant. 

Finally getting bored of the scenery of your room, you decided that if you were going to brainstorm anything it would help to look around first. 

You clicked your string lights off and set off into the walls. Your hand fidgets with the needle on your hip anxiously. 

You always had a problem with twiddling with things. Your mother even had to put poison ivy on your nails once so you’d stop picking them and the skin around them. …You still had small scars but you tried not to pick them as bad. 

Absentmindedly walking the dark corridors of the inner walls wasn’t bad now and again. The cottage didn't have any mice, so you didn't have to worry about predators or bugs for that matter.

You wouldn’t have minded befriending a pill bug though, those little critters were always friendly as long as you had a treat for them. 

Your dreams of settling down with a bug friend though would have to wait. Reminding yourself why you came here, you finally felt along the wall for anything that could help. 

You were on the first floor. Meaning you were on the right track to the perfect spot to go looking for scraps the human wouldn’t miss. 

Not that it mattered if he noticed items going missing anymore, he already knew you were here. It was always best to avoid confrontation though.

Gently tapping on the wall as you went, you felt your body stiffening and halting right as you passed the humans room. 

If that was the noise you thought you heard, maybe the plan would be put in action sooner than expected. 

Halting in your tapping you gently pressed your body against the wall, hearing the faint whispers of a snore from beyond the wood. 

Deciding to bite the bullet you pressed harder, feeling the thin wood bend so you could peek. 

True to what you heard, you could see the human, Ford. Passed out at his desk, and even better, the Journal. 

Unguarded and open on his desk next to his hand. He must have been taking notes and fallen asleep. 

If there was any time to waste you weren’t going to be the one to waste it. Quickly pushing off the wall you took off towards the storage room he kept full of random items. 

Usually just rubbish of whatever he was working on at the time, sometimes wires, and more than often boxes full of who knows what. But that didn't matter, because you knew what you were after. 

Cramming yourself against the wall once more you operated quickly. Squeezing through the small crack made by pushing you landed on a box. Quickly you brought your sleeved arm up to stifle your coughing from the sheer amount of dust. 

Would it kill him to dust now and again or was he only interested in studying???

Pushing past your internal cussing you scanned the floor for what you came for to begin with. A small black screw lay on the floor exactly where you recognized it being. Still sharp at the end from disuse, overlooked on the floor for weeks. 

Bingo.

You jumped off of the box, ignoring the protests from your still sprained ankle as you speed walked over to the screw. 

Picking it up it felt cool in your hands. A comforting feeling in the stuffy and still dark room. The only light was from the moonlight that drifted from the window up high. 

Sometimes you wondered if your family was still okay in the woods. If sometimes when you looked at the moon, they where looking at it too. 

You began the long trek back to the humans room, debating whether or not it would be worth it to go back through the walls or just walk on foot. 

Eventually, you decided to just go back through the vent. Climbing back up the box and weaseling your way into the wall would be too much work. Plus the vents usually were easy enough to navigate. 

You used the screw to pry the grate up ever so slightly before using your hands to pull it up the rest of the way. Your wrist also protesting from where you fell on it. You seriously needed to take better care of yourself once this was all over. 

Dropping down into the vents you made sure to pull the grate shut behind you before crawling through the cramped space. Even for you, it was a bit uncomfortable but the cold on your stomach was oddly comforting. 

You oddly preferred a cold room over a warm one, even better if you had a warm piece of cloth. Even as a kid you much liked it better in the early months of fall than in the middle of summer. 

Finally, you could hear the humans' faint snoring from above you, confirming the vents were a pretty straightforward path to his room. 

Taking a deep breath you pushed the grate up. Timing it with his deep snores to make sure he stayed fast asleep.

Clambering up into the open space you could see Ford sleeping at his desk still. His body was uncomfortably curled around and resting on his desk. 

You were no fool. You made sure to plan an escape route just in case he did wake up, quickly scanning the room you could see a small hole in the floorboard. Probably made by the natural cut of the wood, but perfect for you to drop into at a moment's notice. 

You then looked at his desk. Trying to figure out a safe way to travel up it without your fishhook and thread. When something caught your eye. 

The bastard had kept your fishhook. There it lay on his workspace, just barely discernable from your angle on the floor as it glinted in the moonlight. Almost as if it was taunting you. 

Suddenly all the nerves you had were ebbing away into frustration. Who gave him the right to keep your things. You worked hard on getting the proper supplies, and he never noticed. So what gave him the right to pocket it like he made it? 

You made quick work of walking across the floor and getting your footing on the desk leg. The unpolished wood was rough enough to support your hands and feet as you climbed. 

If you could get your fishhook back on top of taking the page you would be ecstatic. Then you could move without worry and find a new place to move into. This would all be behind you and you could talk about it like it was all some bad dream. 

Now was a time for the present though as you neared the top of his desk. You had almost forgotten the human was resting just beside you, frightening yourself as you pulled yourself onto the desk and saw his arm right next to you. 

…You almost forgot how large this guy was. 

He was tall by human standards, you saw him standing next to his assistant before. 

Pushing down your curiosity you peeled your eyes away from the human. 

Quickly scooping up the fishhook and thread that was so rightfully yours. You took one more glance at him to make sure he was asleep. 

By human standards he was attractive. Hell, even by borrower standards he was mildly satisfying. You weren't one of those borrowers who actively sought out humans, but you could admit when someone was pleasing to the eyes. 

He had short brown hair that slightly curled at the ends. His glasses were now crooked with how he pressed his face on top of his arm as a makeshift pillow. You allowed your eyes to scan over him a bit longer. 

Taking in his outfit as well, a simple brown sweater with a collared shirt poking from above it. His usual trenchcoat was hung on the chair he sat on. 

His hands rested on top of his forearms, which- 

… Don't humans usually only have five fingers? 

You could've sworn they had only five. Raising your own you looked back and forth at it. 

You remembered your mother mentioning humans were genetically very similar to borrowers. The only difference is the height, which should mean he would have only five fingers. Not the six he seemed to have on both hands. 

You were getting sidetracked. Soon you wouldn't even be living with this weird scientist, so why did it matter if he had an extra finger? 

Finally focusing on what you came for, you turned your attention to the journal. That cursed, stupid, red journal. The cause of all your anxiety for the past few days. 

He's lucky you're not just burning the entire thing. You weren't above arson, but you didn't want to kill him if the fire got too big. Despite how much you loathed humans. 

You walked over to the journal and skimmed over the page it was open to. To no one's shock, it was open on the page you despised the most. 

Over the top of the pristine white paper was the name he had given you and your species. 

‘Parva persona’. Whatever that meant you didn't care. 

Below it was a crude sketch of what you could only assume was your shadowy figure slinking off into the wall. You thought you dressed better than that in all honesty. He could have atleast drawn you in detail. 

Whatever. Didnt matter as long as the page was gone. He could always rewrite it but you doubt he would remember everything. 

And the more that was lost to time the better in your opinion. 

You placed your foot on the page to hold it down as you positioned the screw at the top of the page. Pressing your whole body weight on it as you dragged it down, it worked beautifully. Leaving a messy tear in its wake. 

You almost forgot about the snoring behind you. 

Until it stopped. 

About halfway through slicing into the cursed paper you heard it. The slight intake of breath. The stutter was all you needed to whip around just in time to catch the human sitting up slightly. 

His eyes were wide as he looked down at you, the holds of sleep still gripping him tightly as he moved sluggishly. 

Screw the page. You dropped the screw and took off to the side of the desk. Already planning on using the hook to drop off the desk and disappear back into the walls before promptly packing your bags and going back to your parents. 

As you were about to drop your hook and use it to swing off the desk, you felt the warmth of his hand on your back once more before those damned fingers curled around your entire being. 

The human wasnt speaking yet but you didn't want to wait to hear him. Thrashing as hard as you could you tried desperately to grab your needle on your hip, but his hand was quick to squish your arms to your sides. 

The dizzying feeling of being lifted off the desk was the next thing you felt. You felt nauseous at the mental image of being manhandled. 

The human was stunned into silence as you screwed your eyes shut, still desperately kicking at his pinkie that held your thighs down. His thumb pressed against your neck and shoulders, almost as if he was examining you. 

Finally, you opened your eyes, and you wished you hadnt. His other hand held his glasses up, pressing them firmly against the bridge of his nose, as if he was afraid he wasnt seeing right. 

His hair messily framed his face as his mouth hung open just a bit. Clearly in awe at what he was seeing. Your heart hammered quickly against your chest as you feared you might die from shock and horror. 

You were stuck. Trapped by a scientist. The most dangerous human to exist to your kind. 

His grip tightened ever so slightly as he tilted you to the left, looking at the items you had on your hip as he lifted his middle finger. Your thighs and shoulder are still pinned to his palm. 

His palm was uncomfortably warm against your back. You hated the feeling of his skin against your clothes. Absentmindedly he used his other hand to poke at the needle on your hip. You contemplated trying to bite him. 

Your blood was rushing past your ears as the effects of vertigo hit your body in full swing once more as he moved. His head tilted to look somewhere beside the desk before you heard him rummaging. 

It was a wonder you weren't passed out at this point as his hand swayed. The motion was natural to him, but entirely foreign to the small sentient being he held in the palm of his hand. 

His eyes focused back on your form as you felt him press something against your side, it was cold and plastic. 

Craning your neck you could see him pressing what appeared to be a ruler to your side. His thumb pressed against your shoulder moving to press against your neck as he held you straight. 

“...6 and a half inches.. That should be impossible..” 

His voice boomed in your ears as you felt the beginnings of a headache nagging at the back of your eyes. In all reality, he was probably whispering. It didn't matter though combined with the closeness he held you at. 

His thumb was beginning to press a bit too hard into your neck and you saw spots forming in your vision. Your body kicked up in squirms as you desperately tried to squeeze in another full breath of air. 

He was quick to notice as he moved his thumb back to your shoulder. 

“Sorry!- I didn't realize, maybe I could..” 

He sat down the ruler before taking a few quick notes. Your vision cleared as you sucked in precious oxygen again. 

Your vision was just starting to clear fully as your brain caught up with his rummaging. He was once again rifling beside his desk. When you saw him pull a jar up into your vision you felt your blood run cold. 

You did not want to be put in a jar. Going into a jar meant transporting you. Which meant you where going down into that lab. 

   “Stop!-” 

The frantic words left your mouth before you could stop them, and you felt the human practically completely freeze. His calculating eyes pierced into your very soul as you felt him grip you ever so slightly tighter.  “You can talk!”

-- --- - - - --

Hope you enjoyed!! Will ford be nicer next chapter? Who knows!! I sure dont!!! ✰ Let me know if you enjoyed in the comments!!! I love reading them :)!!! Feel free to send me any asks in my askbox if you want as well! ✰

╱|、♡ (` - 7 |、⁻〵 じしˍ,)ノ

[m1lflov3rrr]

Can’t Help Falling in Love (With You, Over and Over Again)

Pairing: Larissa Weems x fem!reader

Warnings: none, just heartwarming fluff <3

Word count: 1.4k

Summary: You were away for a year, and thought you’d surprise your wife at the night of the Rave’n…

A/N: Hello loves, so so sorry for being inactive!! I’ve been very busy with school, but I am writing one of your requests at the moment :))

You were nervous, to say the least. 

It had been exactly one year since you saw her. 

Let us rewind a bit, shall we? 

You had been together with your wife, the formidable Larissa Weems, for 8 years. And tonight was the night of your anniversary, when you got engaged. It was on this day, exactly 9 years ago that she had asked to marry you. The night of the Rave’n dance. You weren’t surprised that she had chosen this specific event for the proposal, you knew how close to Larissa’s heart the Rave’n was. You found it to be the most adorable thing ever. 

And tonight was the night of the Rave’n, once again. 

You had started your own business a few years ago, a law firm. And last year it had gained an unexpectable amount of success, so much so that you had to leave her and expand the business across the country in California. 

Obviously she couldn’t have come with you, she had a school to run. 

You were glad of how supportive and understanding Larissa was, and even though she tried to keep a strong façade and pretend like she’s okay with you leaving for such a long time, you could see right through her. You knew how much your absence affected her. It sure as hell did affect you. 

But every day, you both made time in your schedules for a video call. Twice a day, every morning, every night. Asking how your days had been, updating each other on the latest events. 

And you made that system work. Although the distance was gnawing at you both, you somehow managed to make it work. 

Your business had expanded three times bigger during your stay in California, and when you finally were informed by your assistant that everything was organized for your stay to be over, that you had enough employees and that the business was thriving, you immediately booked a flight back home. 

And it was perfect, actually. You wanted to surprise her, and the Rave’n was the perfect place to do it. (And also, you couldn’t help but love dramatic entrances, as well.) 

You were sitting on the taxi, on the phone with your dear friend and your wife’s co-worker, Marilyn. You wanted to make sure everything was perfect for tonight. 

You did keep in contact with her frequently as well, asking her updates on her life, (and also asking her how Larissa’s doing, since she was pretending to be all fine when talking to you). 

Marilyn had told you, how lately the usually most modest, organized and practical woman had been more snappy and stressed than usual. And she didn’t have any extra workloads or anything, so you knew it was because of you. Because lately, you had been so busy that you were only able to call her once a day. 

It didn’t seem like a big thing or anything, surely she wouldn’t be affected by such a small change? Wrong. 

Larissa was definitely affected by it. She always had to be in order, having things to go her way and sticking to her schedule, that such a small change did, in fact, take a huge toll on her. And you felt incredibly bad about it. 

Last year, you had left the day after the Rave’n. You wanted to stay for that night, to make your last night there unforgettable. And it was only so ironic and fitting that you were coming back the exact day, tonight. And Larissa knew nothing of it. That was the best part. You loved making surprises. 

And tonight would make the greatest surprise of all. 

-

”And you’re sure she has no idea?” You asked Marilyn as you were checking yourself out on the mirror. You were in her private quarters getting ready with the redhead. 

You had a gorgeous silk gown on you that was definitely accentuating every curve on your body, paired with matching high stilettos. 

(Or, imagine your own!)

When you saw the dress on one of your shopping trips, you knew it’d be perfect for tonight. The dress was expensive, but with your now-high salary, it really didn’t matter. It was graceful, but still left little to the imagination with an open back and its tight, but comfortable fit. 

”Trust me, Y/N, the woman’s clueless. She was literally venting on me yesterday about having to spend the Rave’n completely alone. You have no idea how hard it was for me to just not spill the plan right there and then.” The redhead responded as she was putting on her black, gem earrings. 

You smiled, feeling those nervous butterflies in your stomach about what was going to happen very soon now. 

”Good.” 

”Okay, the dance starts in 15, and I have to be there early to greet the students at the entrance. You know what to do, right?” She asked as she slid on her striking red boots. 

You nodded, smiling thankfully at her in the mirror as she picked up her purse and waved you goodbye before rushing out the door. 

This was going to be one hell of a night. 

-

And before you knew it, you were standing at the entrance, waiting for your call. 

You had planned everything out perfectly. The very same song that played on the night she proposed, would start playing any moment now, and then you’d enter the venue. 

And then, sooner than you thought, that beautiful piano melody began enchanting your whole being as the doors opened. 

Wise men say…

Larissa, who was standing in the middle of the venue, frowned as she heard the music - it sounded vaguely familiar. She soon recognized it and smiled at herself, maybe a bit sentimentally, being reminded of your absence. (Or so she thought.) 

She had really been struggling lately, missing you. You were her everything, her world, her whole being. She simply didn’t know how long she could survive without you anymore, she thought she’d burst with how much she just needed you in her arms at this moment. 

Only fools rush in…

You nervously walked inside, scanning the room with your eyes. Many people were already looking at you, in awe and in surprise. They didn’t know either that the principal’s wife would make it here tonight. 

The children had grown to love you over the years as you naturally hung out a lot at the Academy. 

Several gasps could be heard across the room, causing Larissa’s attention to divert to the doors. 

And she saw you. 

And her entire world froze. 

But I can’t help…

Was she dreaming? Did she have a fever? Was she really missing you that much that she had started seeing things? Imagining things? 

But her racing thoughts were interrupted as you gracefully walked over to her, cupping her cheeks with your hands. 

”Hello, my love.” 

And at hearing your voice, feeling your touch, she realized that it was all real. That you were real. 

You saw how her eyes began glistening with unshed tears, and an almost inaudible sound, barely above a whisper came out from her lips; 

”Darling…” 

Falling in love with you. 

And her hands practically flew to the back of your neck, pulling you close and connecting your lips after all this time. 

And it was so magical, and the whole room had their eyes on you. Everything was perfect. 

You smiled in content against her lips, glad to be home again. 

”I missed you so much, Rissa. You have no idea. May I have this dance?” You whispered, watching how a single tear was running down her cheek. You wiped it away with your thumb as you placed another loving kiss on her lips. 

And your wife seemed to still be so incredibly shocked, that all she could mutter out was a rushed; ”Always.” 

Oh, take my hand… 

She pulled you into the warmest hug you’d ever been in as you began swaying to the music, everyone else in the room gathered in a large circle around you two, admiring your moment and the unconditional love that was now felt by everyone in the dance. 

Take my whole life too…

Larissa buried her face in your neck, breathing in your familiar scent and sighing with relief, you were at last, back where you were supposed to be. In her arms. 

”Don’t you ever leave me for that long again.” She whispered to your ear, causing you to grin widely as you turned your gaze to meet hers. 

For I can’t help… 

”I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ll never, ever leave you again. Cross my heart.” You whispered back, sealing it with a kiss. 

Falling in love with you. 

[discount-shades]

Contract Spouse Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Living the Lie 

A/N: to quote M*A*S*H “War isn’t Hell. War is war, and Hell is Hell. And of the two, war is a lot worse.”

Pairing: Jake Seresin/Reader (nicknamed Pip)

Warning:  Angst, war, PTSD, civilian deaths, child death, nightmares

Length: 2100 ish

Summary: Jake and Pip settle into living together.

Previous     Masterlist     Next

Two weeks after you had settled into Jake's house in San Diego you were on the phone with Sami. Your almost daily phone calls with Jake had been replaced by phone calls to Sami. You look up from the pasta you were stirring on the stove as Jake walks through the side door. He goes to greet you but cuts himself off when he sees you are on the phone.

“Who is it?” You read his lips as he mouths the question and you mouth the answer back. “Hi Sami,” he calls out.

“Jake says hi,” you say with a resigned sigh. Relaying a conversation between the two siblings when you were on the phone with Jake had started very soon after the wedding and now that you were living with Jake, the habit had immediately resumed in reverse and you had long since given up trying to get them to talk to each other. Jake now sports a smile identical to the one Sami always had on her face during these conversations. 

When you finally hang up the phone you roll your eyes at Jake. “You guys are ridiculous, I hate you both.” 

“No you don’t,” he grins as he heads to his room to change out of his work clothes “You love us.” 

“That's the problem.” You mumble to yourself as you dump the pasta into a serving dish and set the table before sitting down to dinner.

“I got two more quotes on redoing the roof,” you tell Jake between bites of alfredo. “I think we should go with the second, they’re more expensive but have better reviews and can begin sooner.” 

“Whatever you think is best.” Jake shrugs, relieved you had taken over the repairs he had been too busy to arrange.

“And the contractor for the hot water tank called, he had a cancellation and can come replace ours tomorrow.” Jake just nods in confirmation and you fight a sigh.

The house that Jake had bought a few months ago, though overall in good shape, had needed a few updates and you had quickly taken over organizing them. Talking about hiring contractors over dinner makes you feel more married than you have ever felt before. The monotony of cohabitation made slipping into the rhythm of life together automatic. 

Living with Jake was easy. You worked together seamlessly, easily dividing household chores and responsibilities. Chatting in the evenings, watching tv, or just sitting in silence reading. The two of you just fit together. He had even tolerated you reorganizing every drawer and shelf in the common spaces with minimal cursing over not being able to find things.

Life continues in the same thread. You and Jake grocery shopping, going for walks, cooking, and doing dishes, just easily living together. But as time went on you were finding it harder and harder. 

Everyday you had to stifle your imagination as you pictured him coming through the door and giving you a kiss. The little part in your heart that you could never squish down was still hoping that one day Jake would look at you and fall in love. 

The logical part tried to keep your breathing steady when Jake would brush past you in the kitchen. Tried to keep you from melting into his touch when he placed his hand on your lower back when you were walking together in public. Tried to keep from staring when you were together. 

It didn’t help that Jake frequently walks around without his shirt. Whether it was first thing in the morning, after a shower, or after a run. You loved and hated it. When you said goodnight and went to your separate rooms you wanted to follow him into the master bedroom and finally end your embarrassingly long dry spell. You should have hooked up with your cute neighbor in your final days in Austin. Maybe that would have made things easier. 

– – – 

“Jake,” your voice startles him out of his sleep. He can hear you tapping gently on his door before easing it open. “We have a problem.” 

“What's wrong?” he mumbles sleepily as he sits up in bed, squinting in the hall light shining through the open door. The rain from earlier is still lightly falling outside. “What time is it?”

“It’s a little after midnight, The roof is leaking.” You tell him, hair pulled up into a sloppy bun and pillow creases on your cheek. “I woke up in a puddle, it's coming through the light fixture above the bed.”

Jake mumbles curses. He had been sleeping soundly and would have likely been able to sleep the whole night if the roof hadn’t leaked. He helps you move the bed and set up a big rubbermaid bin under the leak to catch the dripping water while you strip the wet bedding off the mattress and throw it in the bathtub. You flip the breaker and he carefully removes the light so the water can fall directly into the bin without pooling, you dutifully hold the flashlight.

After you follow him into the attic to see where the leak is. Fortunately it is only in one spot and the rain has slowed to a stop. Using the towels you had so neatly organized, you help him mop up all the water you can. You place another bin under the main leak but it has slowed to a drip. Working next to you in the dimly lit attic, Jake realizes he never would have noticed the leak so soon if not for you.

“When are they supposed to fix the roof?” Jake asks you.

“Monday,” you say sadly and he sighs. “If you leave all the information for me I’ll call the insurance company tomorrow.”

He follows you down the ladder with the wet towels and throws them into the washing machine. You follow with the towels from your room. Your teeth chattering and he looks at you for the first time and notices that your pajamas are soaking wet.

“Pip you're going to get sick, go change.” You roll your eyes at him but comply and grab a dry pair of pajamas and head to the bathroom so you can leave your wet ones in the tub. When you come out of the bathroom he meets you in the hall. “I dumped the bin in your room, we should be good to go back to sleep.” You nod but don't follow him; grabbing your pillow you turn to go into the living room. 

“Where are you going?”

“The couch.” You stare at him in confusion. “My mattress is soaked.”

“Yeah but mine's not.” You stand there staring at him and he suddenly feels like he has overstepped. The look in your eye is unreadable but you just agree quietly and follow him. When he reaches the bed and you crawl in beside him he feels his stomach clench. He can't remember the last time he slept next to someone, it's been years, definitely before the nightmares started. What if he moves and hits you, or says something he doesn’t want you to hear?

It’s awkward. As soon as he lies down beside you he feels the need to move and eases himself over to his other side. He can hear you rolling over when he does. You don’t say anything but he can tell you are tense. Maybe he shouldn't have insisted you share his bed. “Do you want to build a pillow wall?” 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” You roll over again and he can feel your eyes on him. “Good night Jake.” 

“Goodnight.” You stop moving but he can tell you are not asleep by your breathing. He listens and tries not to move but he can’t sleep if you are awake. He feels the bed shift every time you move and shuffle your feet. He stares into the dark hyper aware of you beside him, pretending to sleep before he finally breaks the silence. “Are you awake?” 

“Yeah.”

“Can’t sleep?” 

“My feet are cold,” you tell him. “I can’t sleep with cold feet.”

Jake bites back a sigh and says the thing he doesn’t want to do. “You can put them on me.”

Your soft laugh almost makes it worthwhile. “I don’t think you mean that,” you counter. And he reaches down to feel your feet and immediately regrets his decision when he feels how icy they are. 

“Come on,” he says resignedly and urges you to roll over so you can press your feet to his warm legs. When you settle he finds himself focusing on your cold toes to distract himself from the warmth coming from your body lying beside him. 

As your feet warm he can feel the tension leave you as you relax into sleep, your breath slowing and evening out and soon he finds himself drifting off as well. 

– – – 

Maverick is carrying a lifeless Rooster in his arms. He is standing in the desert. Rubble and fire from a destroyed building around him. Blood is dripping down Rooster's extended arm and steadily falling from his fingertips and onto the dry sand. Jake stands, blood pounding in his ears with every drop that hits the ground. Maverick is speaking to him in a language he can't understand, repeating the same phrase. 

When he realizes it’s weird to see Maverick cradling Rooster so easily everything seems to blur  and when it clears there is now a father holding his young son in front of him. The boy's eyes are open and staring blankly at the sky. The man speaks but it is Maverick's voice he hears, “You shot at the wrong time, his death is your fault Hangman.” The man advances towards him brandishing the body of his dead son repeating the words in Maverick’s voice, becoming angrier and more grief-stricken with every repetition as Jake retreats, his heart pounding, unable to escape.

– – – 

“No!” Jake sits up gasping. His heart is hammering wildly as he tries to breathe. He feels like there is a weight on his chest, contracting his lungs and keeping his ribcage from expanding. The image of the boy burned into his retinas. 

“Jake?” The soft sound of your voice startles him and he flinches when he sees you move before pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. Trying to rub away what he saw. Your hand is hesitant as it brushes against his back, gently moving and pressing his t-shirt into his sweat soaked skin. He wants to tell you to stop, that he doesn’t deserve comfort after what he did. He wants to get up and leave, but he doesn't. He just sits there frozen and focuses on the feeling of your warm hand smoothing over his spine as his breathing steadies. When the chill sets in he strips off the sweaty shirt and lies back down on his back.

“Nightmare?” you ask quietly already knowing the answer. He nods even though he is not sure you can see him. He’s told you about the nightmares, never why or what he sees but you know he has trouble sleeping. You're the only one who knows. 

You lie on your side and he can feel your eyes in the dark. Unable to rub his back you place your hand on his chest and resume the relaxing motion. But the feel of your hand on his bare chest is too much and he stops you, flattening your hand to his heart. When you go to pull away he reaches up with his other hand and clutches your wrist, unwilling to let you go.

“Don’t go.” The words slip out before he can stop them and he clenches his jaw to keep from speaking more. He can feel you nod you head beside him. You slowly begin flexing your fingers and he relaxes the hand flattening yours and you begin to gently scratch his chest with your finger tips. He finally lets out a shuddering breath and shifts his grip on your wrist so he can feel your steady pulse. 

“Breath with me,” you whisper. “Focus on my breaths.” he lies beside you and listens to you breathe and focuses on the feeling of your warm hand pressed to his heart and the gentle caress of your finger tips. He feels the butterfly kiss of your lips on his shoulder and his skin burns. Your soft breaths moves over his skin and his heart aches.

When your fingers stop moving he knows you are asleep but doesn’t let go of your hand, eventually he falls into a dreamless sleep listening to your soft breaths. 

[fruitmins]

Oᵤᵣ Bᵢg Bₐby / BTS OT7

➭genre: little space, age regression, fluff, caregivers bts, little reader, sfw, hurt/comfort, mostly no plot

➭warnings: none

➭note: I have 100 followers?? wtff??? I love you all?? Thank you for the support??🫶🏃‍♀️. updated the masterlist finally

The boys never liked the idea of you having a job in the first place. On top of the possibility of you slipping into little space at work or someone realizing you live with the biggest boy group in the world, they had money. They could pay for all of your expenses anyways.

So why did you get a job? Simply to get out of the house and to have your own hard earned money in your pocket.

It didn’t take long for you to quickly feel bad about all the things they’d get for you big or little. And it didn’t take long for the mansion they moved you into with them to get small.

So here you were, two weeks into your job as a simple barista when you made your first mistake. Someone had ordered a pink drink that was pretty with strawberries and once you saw the sprinkles you slipped.

You hurriedly finished the order the best you could and rushed into the bathroom but to your horror one of your mangers Gigi, had already been in there and was washing her hands.

“What are you doing?” She quickly questioned you. She had always been a hard ass and almost no one liked her. She was picky with everything anyone did and had obvious favorites. “Your not on break, are you?”

Stupidly, your five year old mind told the truth and shook your head no.

“Then get back to work what’s wrong with you.” She said harshly which immediately brought tears to your eyes. She had yelled at you before so her harsh tone usually wouldn’t push you. But it was different when you were little, and she seemed to see that something was wrong.

She glanced at the sprinkles stuck to your sweaty hands, then at your glossy eyes. She raised an eyebrow, “How old are you twelve? Stop acting like a fucking child.” She scolded again taking a step towards you.

“N-No I’m five!” You shouted out of fear and she immediately realized what was happening. Her lips curled into a nasty grin before grabbing your ear and pulling on it as she lead out out the bathroom.

“You’re one of them idiots that think they are kids. Well guess what? Kids have to work too. And if you don’t, I’m deducting your pay.” She whispered into your ear before harshly pushing you towards the cash register where another coworker had took over.

You had no choice but to continue working and every day after that she’d keep a good eye on you. She’d criticize your every move and did things like intentionally throwing sprinkles on the floor and demanding you to sweep them up. She’d try to trigger you on purpose and when you eventually slipped she’d yell and demand you to do the most impossible tasks.

And if you dare tried to get out of it or not do it at all it only made things worse.

You were seriously thinking about quitting altogether, but being a barista soothed you and you liked the people you worked with. Of course there were occasional rude customers but you liked how organized the job was and just liked getting out of the house without it being such a hassle.

But working was starting to effect you mentally (since slipping was a coping mechanism and stress reliever) and was starting to effect you at home with the boys.

You started not to slip at home even though they were your caregivers, you were scared of death of slipping. So in turn, you started distancing yourself from them whenever you happened to slip. And then distancing yourself period.

You’d stay in your room most of the day and when it was time for dinner you have short answers whenever they tired to make conversation.

Even though they themselves were busy, your detaching did not go unnoticed. Neither did the fact that you were never little. The longest you’ve able to stay big was a week, but now it was going on three.

Finally, one day when you were off they sat you down on the couch for a talk.

“Y/N, did we do something?” Namjoon was the first to speak and the heartbreak in his voice caught you off guard.

“What?” You asked confused. That’s when you noticed how hurt they all looked. They weren’t pouting, more like sulking.

“You’ve just been distant lately. Always at work and always tired when you come home..” Hobi stated with a cautious voice as you swallowed a lump of guilt.

You hadn’t told them anything. You didn’t want them dealing with your work problems when they had their own. They had always fixed your problems to begin with, you could handle a bully on your own.

“You must be confusing me with Yoongi.” You spoke in a flat voice. You were trying to play it off as a joke but it didn’t come out right. Still, it amused Jin who let out a chuckle.

“Okay well you also haven’t slipped.” Taehyung spoke in a matter-of-factly tone which quickly made the room quiet and tense.

“I haven’t noticed..” you mumbled it obviously being a lie as you looked down at the couch.

“Really? Or did you just think we wouldn’t notice?” Jungkook corrected you quickly with a bitter tone. The words caught you off guard as you made eye contact with him. He looked sad but worried for you.

“Y/N we aren’t just your caregivers, we’re friends. Tell us what’s wrong?” Yoongi’s usual rough voice turned soft which made you shiver and shift uncomfortably in your seat. You couldn’t slip, not now.

This also didn’t go unnoticed and they suddenly had a new plan using only their eyes to confirm.

“Nothing.” You denied again.

“What’s wrong, angel? Why are you lying to us?” Jimin asked with an intention pleading tone.

Your eyes widen in realization. They were trying to get you to slip. But it far to late now.

“I’m not~” you said again in a more whiny tone as you slouched back on the couch. The warm fuzziness in your stomach was too strong to ignore this time. Especially when Tae started to pull you into his lap and stroke your hair.

The more you tried to fight the urge the more your head started to hurt. Flashbacks on your job clouded your mind as you started to cry. That’s when you broke.

“It’s okay princess.” Jungkook soothed you, using his hand to wipe your tears. “Let’s get you into some fuzzy clothes and a pull up.” He proposed taking you off of Jimin’s lap and into his arms as he headed to your room.

Not wanting to crowd you, the rest of them stayed downstairs while Jungkook whispered sweet things to you as he changed you into a comfortable onesie.

When you were back downstairs Jin had already prepared some small snacks for you along with a juice box.

“Baby, something’s made you distant and sad.” Namjoon stated once he had finished the snack and were sipping on the juice box. “We want to help you, but you have to let us okay?”

You nodded, taking a minute to form your words before speaking. “At work. Boss lady mean.” You whispered which immediately made them frown.

“What does boss lady say?” Tae asked with a worried expression as he held your hand while you were bouncing on Hobi’s lap.

“She say littles are dumb.” Tears formed in your eyes as you thought back at her mean shouting. “She yell and tug when I make messes. She no like littles.”

You could feel Yoongi hold you tighten on your hand when you continued as the boys all shared the same looks at each other. The ‘someone is getting fired’ look.

“Am I dumb?” You asked them when they went silent as your lip quivered.

“Absolutely not!” Jungkook immediately answered. “Boss lady doesn’t know what she’s talking about. You are a gift.” He continued in a strong voice. He was trying not to get to angry in front of you but his blood boiled at the thought of someone saying these things to you.

“Why didn’t you tell us this was happening baby? We would of helped you before it got to bad.” Jimin asked with a frown while he tried to maintain eye contact with you.

“I wanted to fix it myshelf.” You state in a low voice, feeling disappointed.

“It’s okay. You can be independent. It’s just when things get to bad you have to tell us.” Hobi told you softly but in a firm tone to know he was serious and you nodded.

“We’re gonna make sure she never does it again.” Tae reassured you with a head pat but you just frowned. “I can’t work?” You asked.

“You can still work sweetie. We know how much you like earning money and how relaxed you are when you work.” Jin reassured you with a gentle smile.

“It’s however the fuck boss lady is that can’t work anymore.” Yoongi mumbled angrily but it only caused you to smile.

“Swear.” You giggled and pointing as the rest of them glared at Yoongi. You loved when Yoongi swore around you, simply because he wasn’t supposed to. You grinned whenever he got scolded or smacked by Jin. Yoongi just ignored the looks and lightly chuckled, your giggles making him slightly less mad.

Once everything was settled the boys immediately had someone on the phone with your manager and she was fired only three days later.

So you vowed to yourself to tell them if anything was bothering you again.

[boredmadamoiselle]

She Will Be Loved 

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader; Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Synopsis: Charles learns that if you can't take care of something, someone will for you.

Warnings: Angst. Charles a little toxic. English isn't my first language, it probably contains some mistakes. I tried my best but sorry in advance and if you want to correct or help me, you're welcome.

Author's note: Don't know if I like this or hate it, so let me know what you think. Your feedback is always appreciated and is important for me. If you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to write them and I will take into consideration. 

Beauty queen of only eighteen, she had some trouble with herself He was always there to help her, she always belonged to someone else I drove for miles and miles, and wound up at your door I've had you so many times, but somehow I want more

You had met Lewis a few months ago at the Paris Fashion Week. He was there for the Valentino show as their guest; you, instead, were one of the models chosen to walk the runway. 

You didn’t know he’d be there; you were walking down the catwalk when you saw him sitting in the front row, his eyes staring at you. You continued to walk as if nothing had happened, but it was the first time you saw Lewis since breaking up with Charles, your ex, F1 driver and also Lewis’ colleague. 

Later that day, you had seen him at the after party organized by Valentino. As he walked towards you, part of you wanted to run away. Seeing him brought back so many memories, as it was hard to see Lewis and not to think about Charles. And that was the last thing you wanted, after it had taken you long to forget him and move on with your life. But Lewis wasn’t to blame for what had happened with your ex. You could see that he seemed visibly happy to see you again and you couldn’t deny that you were too. 

You had always liked Lewis, he wasn’t just one of the best drivers in the world but he was also a good person and when you used to go to races, you liked talking to him. Even if he was a 7-time world champion, he had remained a humble and sensitive person, as well as very intelligent. And yeah, he was also extremely handsome. 

You didn’t keep yourself update on Formula 1 anymore, not as you used to do once, but from what you had heard, you knew he wasn’t doing well as in the past and you feel sorry for him. He didn’t deserve it. Despite that, his face lighted up when he saw you and in the end, you stayed. 

Not much in the mood to celebrate, you ended up walking the streets of Paris, chatting and enjoying the beauty that the city had to offer you. Even though he must be curious and have questions about the end of your relationship with Charles, especially when everything seemed to be fine, Lewis didn’t touch the subject even once and you were secretly grateful to him. Later, like the gentleman he was, he had accompanied you to the hotel and greeted you on the cheek. 

The next day you had found a big bouquet of roses in your room sent by Lewis. There was also a note in which he thanked you for the beautiful night and that he hoped to repeat it again and as soon as possible. Deep in your heart you wanted it too.

A few weeks later, while you were getting ready for a photoshoot, you were scrolling your Instagram when some pictures captured your attention. Your eyes filled with tears but you immediately chased them away as you didn’t want to ruin your makeup. You took a better look at the photos. They portrayed your ex with a girl. He was smiling and seemed happy. You, on the other hand, were hurt but angry as well. 

As your heart broke into a thousand pieces, his words played on repeat in your head, which now appeared to be more lies than anything else. Suddenly everything seemed clearer to you. He hadn’t left you because he wanted to focus on his career as he had said. He just didn't love you as much as you did. As much as you still did, you needed to recognize, and those photos proved it. Despite the pain you felt, you ended up putting your best smile for the photographer, showing professionalism and dedication to your job as always. You had worked hard to get where you were and weren't going to let your past ruin it. Fuck him, you thought. I’ll focus on my career too now. 

At the end of the photo shoot, when you were back in the dressing room, a message was waiting for you. You face lit up as you saw it was from Lewis and smiled even more seeing what he had written.

Hey

Are you okay?

After that night you started keeping in touch. Even with different time zones and being almost always on the other side of the world, there was no day you didn't talk or send texts to each other. He had also invited you to go to some races but you had declined. You weren’t still ready for that. And to see him. 

A few months later you had finally met Lewis again. After your success at the Paris Fashion week, you had become very popular in the world of fashion and beyond. Everyone – the most important fashion houses, magazines, and lots of brands – wanted you, including Anna Wintour, who had invited you to the Met Gala. You couldn't wait to go to one of New York's most exclusive events, especially knowing that Lewis would have been there too. 

He originally proposed you went together but you politely declined. Even if you wanted to go out on a date with Lewis, the Met Gala wasn’t the right place and the right time. Everyone would have seen you and talked about you two. You wanted people to talk about you for who you really were and for what you did, not because you were with the 7-time world champion. You didn't want history to repeat itself. 

When you and Charles had broken up, soon after your career had started to take off and many had insulted you for that. They thought you had used the Monegasque only for fame and that when you had gotten what you wanted, you had just left him. If only they knew how wrong they were, you thought. The truth was you didn’t want to leave him, he just didn’t give you choice. 

“There isn't much to say. We simply wanted different things and we both need to focus on our career”, he had said when a journalist had asked him about your break-up.  

Yeah, you wanted to focus on your career and I… wanted to be with you. But apparently, I wasn’t in your plans anymore, you had thought at the time. 

As you walked the red carpet at the same time as Lewis, you could feel his eyes on you while posing for photographers. Given your previous relationship, the others knew that you and Lewis knew each other, so you quickly said hello to each other.  

“You are beautiful tonight”, he whispered in your ear, as you kissed him on the cheek. You smiled at his words. 

Later that night you invited him to your place where, between the covers of your bed, you got to know each other better. 

After that whenever he was off, Lewis was often in the States or joined you wherever your job brought you only to see you. It was good for him, you were good to him. The time he spent with you helped him get distracted and not think about what happened on track. 

Things between you quickly became serious and you could say you were secretly dating. In fact, no one knew about you two and in some ways, it was simpler that way. On the other hand, even if he was patient and willing to wait, Lewis wanted to make things official as soon as possible and tell the whole world the truth. That you were his. And most of all he wanted and needed you by his side during races. You knew that sooner or later that was inevitable. But you were afraid of what people would have thought and said. 

Also, you wanted to talk to your ex before going public with Lewis. You didn't owe him anything, but Lewis was still Charles’ colleague, and you didn't want things between them to get tense because of you. That’s why you were holding your phone and looking at Charles’ number. Again. Shortly after your breakup, you had erased it just as he had erased you from his life but you still remembered it. Like so much else, it was engraved in your mind. 

You kept staring at the phone hoping the call would go off by itself. On one hand, the very idea of hearing him, even just on the phone, terrified you; on the other side, you terribly wanted to hear his voice.

You were having a déjà vu as you have already experienced this situation, months ago when after your breakup you spent most of your time waiting for him to call you or hoping he would. But you never heard from him again. It was also for this reason that you were hesitant to call him. Calling him first would’ve been like admitting defeat. And you didn't want to lose any more. You had already lost too much. 

You ended up never calling him. And soon it’d be no longer necessary.

A few weeks later, in fact, you were entering the paddock at the Grand Prix of Austin. When Lewis had had an accident during the qualifying the day before, you had decided to join him to check on him and cheer him up. You wanted to be there for him as he had been there for you. 

You had originally planned to stay at the hotel watching the race from there, but in the end, seeing how frustrated and demoralized Lewis was, you had decided to go to the Grand Prix. You knew he needed you there. And in fact, when you had told him about your decision, he had instantly become the happiest man alive as that really meant a lot to him. 

Since you still wanted to be discreet, you hadn't arrived with Lewis and hadn’t used the main entrance. As you reached the Mercedes hospitality where Lewis was waiting for you, you hoped no one would recognize you. More than anything, though, you hoped you wouldn't meet Charles. Not yet at least.

Seeing the red building, the Ferrari hospitality, memories crossed your mind. It was strange not to enter it and to be there under those new circumstances; you almost felt like a stranger, an intruder. Yet for a long time that place had been like your home and you had been very happy there. 

You were so deep in your own thoughts that it took a few seconds before you heard a voice calling you. 

“Y/n? Is it really you?”

You froze. The hairs on the back of your neck started to rise, and you feel your cheeks getting warm. Even if your back was turned, you knew who that voice belonged to and as much as you wanted to run away, you turned around to face him. You could see the driver was visibly surprised and confused to see you.

“Ehi, Pierre. It’s good to see you again. How are you?” You forced yourself to smile at the French driver and hugged him. Actually, you had no problem with Pierre and part of you was happy to see him again, the fact was that of all the possible people, with the paddock full of people, it was him you had crossed paths with. Pierre Gasly, F1 driver and one of Charles’ best friends. If you had had any hope of going unnoticed, without Charles knowing you were there, you had lost it entirely now. Meeting him was like meeting Charles since he’d tell him that he had met you. 

“I’m good, are you? But what are you doing here? Wait, are you and Charles…” You didn’t let him finish the sentence. 

“No, we’re not”, you quickly said. After that you didn’t know what to say, so you simply told the truth. Sort of. “I was invited... Mercedes invited me. I’m their guest.” It wasn't entirely a lie but it wasn't the truth either. 

Pretending to look at the clock, you continued. “Actually, I should go as I’m already late. But it was really good to see you, Pierre. Good luck for the race and be careful!”. 

While you entered the Mercedes hospitality as quickly as you could, Pierre looked at you confused. You, on the other hand, breathed a sigh of relief once inside. 

-

“Are you really sure it was her, Pierre?” Charles’ mind was racing as he couldn't believe what his friend just told him. He didn't know whether to hope Pierre was right or not.

“Mate, I know it seems unbelievable but I’m not going crazy or hallucinating. I told you: it was her.”

Charles fell silent and seeing his friend speechless, Pierre continued. “You know when I saw her I got a little offended because for a moment I thought you secretly got back together and didn't tell me anything.”

“It isn’t…", Charles quickly corrected his friend. "...Even if I wish it were.” He didn't want to say it at first, as it was hard for him to admit it but if there was anyone he could talk to about it, that was definitely Pierre. 

Pierre could hear the sadness in Charles’ voice and he knew his friend wasn't the same since you two broke up, despite all his success.  

“Well, then you might have your chance to get her back. Go talk to her”, Pierre suggested.

“I can’t, Pierre. I never even called her or looked for her… And even if I did, maybe she moved on.” Even if he was saying it, Charles hoped it wasn’t true but at that moment, he realized something. “Did you say she entered into the Mercedes hospitality?”, he continued.

Pierre nodded not fully understanding why he was asking, while Charles couldn’t come to terms with what he just thought. 

“Wait, George is with Carmen and Lewis… You don't think the two are together, right?”, Pierre asked as he had finally connected the dots too. 

“I don’t know, Pierre. But it’s strange that she’s here, moreover as a guest of Mercedes, when in all these months she has never come once. Why right now?”

Pierre looked at his friend not knowing well what to say. 

“And then you'll remember Lewis has always had a crush on Y/n… I certainly haven't forgotten the way he looked at her when we were dating”, Charles said while jealousy taking hold of him. 

“Of course, he had, Charles. I too had a crush on her, everyone had. She is stunning, smart and funny. But I don't need to tell you that, you yourself know it very well”, Pierre said. 

Yeah, Charles perfectly knew that. 

“Maybe it’s something related to her job. It wouldn’t be the first time that top models come to see a F1 race and then, you know Lewis is into fashion”, Pierre continued. 

“Yeah, I know. And maybe he is into her too”, Charles said. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he was. Pierre’s words played on repeat on his mind. You know Lewis is into fashion, he had said. They could have gotten closer through fashion, Charles thought. Lewis used to attend some fashion show and Charles remembered seeing a photo of you together during a party a few months ago. You were just talking in the picture, nothing more but the sight of you together had been enough at that time to make him jealous. He should have been the one with you, not Lewis. But he was the only one to blame if you weren’t with him. He had sent you away. And for what? He had given up on you to focus on his career and chasing fame, victory and even if he had actually won everything and that had been one of the best year of his entire career, he had lost the most important thing in his life: you. And he couldn’t forgive himself for that. All those awards meant nothing if you weren't there with him. In the end, if he had gotten there where he was, it was also thanks to you. You had loved him and supported him before he became Il Predestinato. 

What if you had actually moved on?, Charles thought. He couldn't bear to think it was true, least of all with Lewis. The very idea was unbearable to him. 

He looked at his clock. There was still time before the race started. Pierre was right, he had to do something, at least he had to try. Even if he had to race later, Charles had a bigger race to run at that moment: he needed to win you back. 

-

You were behind the Mercedes hospitality smoking a cigarette as you waited for Lewis to finish his debrief and join you before the race to spend some time together. As you needed some air, you had decided to go out. 

You were surprised but at the same time disappointed you hadn't seen Charles yet. You didn’t know what you really wanted. Part of you wished to see him and his reaction at the sight of you; on the other hand you were scared that you wouldn't see any reaction from him. It’d mean that he didn’t care about you anymore. And that would have broken your heart. Again and again. 

You were smoking to try to calm yourself and yet all you could do was think about him and distress yourself. It wasn't good for you to be alone, so you decided to go back inside. You threw the cigarette away and turned around. But you froze immediately. 

There he was, your ex-boyfriend standing in front of you and looking at you intensely. You, on the other side, were unable to say or do anything. How long had he been there?, you asked yourself. Why was he there? Was he walking and saw you by chance? Or was he looking for you?

After what it seemed an eternity to you, he broke the silence. “I thought you quit smoking”, he said pointing at the cigarette on the floor. 

Yes, you had. But you can't say no to certain vices for too long. 

“Hello to you too, Charles. And yeah, I did but I still smoke sometimes. Occasionally. For example, when I’m nervous”, you explained saying too much and exposing yourself. Why were you explaining yourself to him? You don’t have to. He is nothing to you, you thought.

He was approaching you, so you took a step back until you were pinned against the wall. “Are you nervous now, Y/n?”, he teased you. He knew what he was doing to you. Just hearing him talking was enough to turn you on. 

“No, I’m not”, you lied. You were just dying inside. 

Charles looked at you better. God, how beautiful you are, he thought. Even if you were wearing just a top, a pair of jeans and sneakers, you were breathtaking. Simple but beautiful, as he always liked you and he couldn't take his eyes off you. 

He smirked noticing the color of you top. “I can see you still wear red”, he said. 

Fuck, you thought. With a closet full of clothes, you made the choice to wear a red top that remembered Ferrari. How did you not think about it? Force of habit, you thought. When you and Charles dated, you always used to wear something red during race weekend as a sign of support towards him. 

On the other side, Charles loved to see you in that color, even now that you weren’t together anymore. It didn't just say who you rooted for but also who you belonged to: his and no one else's. And the fact that you were wearing it when you were probably with Lewis made him smile and turned him on. Maybe there is still hope, Charles thought. 

You shook your head, fully aware of what he really meant. “It’s just a color”, you simply said. But it wasn’t and you knew it. Deep down you were still rooting for him. You always would have. 

You looked away, unable to hold his gaze as his eyes roamed over your body and how they darkened as he took in the details, the tension building up. Charles knew you were lying, he knew you too well. 

Pinned against the wall with his hands to the side of your face, he put a lock of hair behind your ear. 

There were a million things Charles wanted to tell you, to ask you – important things – but in the end jealousy got the better of him. “What are you doing here, Y/n?”, he asked and kindly grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him. 

The time had come, you thought. That moment you had been waiting for but at the same time postponing for so many weeks, it was there. Now or never, you thought. You had to tell him about Lewis. 

“I’m here for Lewis”, you whispered. 

So, I was right, Charles thought. You are here for Lewis, there is something between you. But what? Even if he already knew the answer, he had to try, get to the bottom of the matter.

“That’s nice of you. It’s important to be there for friends. Can I be your friend too?” Charles knew he was going too far but he couldn't resist, his eyes studying your face for some kind of clue. Anything that confirmed that you were just friends. 

You rolled your eyes and ignoring his question, you got straight to the point. “Charles, we aren’t friends. I mean, yes, we are but not just that. We are dating, actually.”

A sigh expelled past his lips, his head hanging low so you couldn’t see his eyes. 

Charles’ mind was racing as he couldn’t come to terms with what you just told him. His worst fears had come true. He had lost you. No, it couldn’t be, Charles thought. That couldn’t be the end.  

“Really? With a Mercedes guy, Y/n? That’s not your place”, he said looking back at you. 

You had never seen that look on his face before, it portrayed… Anger? Maybe. Annoyance? Also. But there was something else too. Jealousy. He was jealous. 

Even if his jealousy pleased you because it meant he still felt something for you, you still got angry at his words. Who did he think he was to say that?, you thought. 

“And let’s hear, what would be my place, uhm, Charles? Where?”, you challenged him. 

Seeing that he didn't speak, you repeated the question and started beating him on the chest. “Come on, answer, coward!” You didn’t care if people were hearing you. You had waited too long for this moment. 

He grabbed your wrists, stopping you. Your eyes, filled with tears, peered up at him, waiting for his answer. “With me… Your place is with me, Y/n.” 

Even if you felt a tingling and loving feeling at his words and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want that your place was with him, you couldn’t forget how badly he had treated you. How could you believe him after what he had done to you? How could he look straight in your face and say that? How?, you asked yourself and got even angrier if possible. 

“With you?”, you joked. “After you kicked me out as soon as you had everything you wanted and when you didn't need me anymore? Are you serious, Charles?”, you asked him and sighed. 

He glanced away, unable to look at you as he felt ashamed. He let your wrists and sighed. “I made a mistake, okay? I thought I needed to focus on my career and that to do so I had to leave all distractions aside, but I never…”

“So now I was just a simple distraction, Charles?” You felt your chest tighten as you let out a sob, you couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. “You know, I think I've heard enough. You're not the only one who made a mistake because I too thought you loved me and instead evidently......”

He didn't let you finish as he pushed you against the wall again and pressed his lips on yours. After the initial shock and even if you were angry with him, you didn't even try to resist him and kissed him back. His mouth was warm and soft. The kiss was nothing gentle and light, but intense and his hands were moving to squeeze at your waist, pulling you closer, and you completely melted into him. Even if all those months you had said otherwise, the truth was you had missed him, his touch on you… all that. 

Even though you knew it was wrong towards you, towards Lewis especially, you didn’t stop him, you just enjoyed the moment, the feeling of his lips on yours. It was intoxicating, but it was also the only thing you needed at that moment. 

That kiss was worth a thousand words. It contained everything you hadn’t said, how much you had missed each other and how much you…

“I never stopped loving you, Y/n, and you were never a distraction. Never. I made a mistake putting you aside just as I made a mistake not looking for you when I realized what I had done but I was too ashamed. And then.. I thought I didn't deserve you, that you were better off without me”, he sighed.  “But I loved you, Y/n, and I still do. I know I don’t deserve it but if you feel the same, forgive me and take me back. Please”, he whispered, almost begging you. 

… you loved each other. 

You were speechless and your mind was racing, playing his words on repeat in your head. In all those months you hadn't wanted anything else, so many times you had imagined hearing him say those words and now he was finally saying them. But was it enough for you? After everything?

You were about to speak when you heard Lewis’ voice, scaring you to death. You and Charles quickly walked away from each other. 

“Here you are”, the English driver said referring to you. “Hey, mate”, he said, greeting Charles. 

Although you were scared to face him and were feeling incredibly guilty, you glanced at Lewis, he seemed relaxed but you didn't know how long he'd been there or what he'd heard. For all you knew, he might have heard all of it. You were too caught up in the moment to notice anything. What if he had actually heard it all and was faking it? You hadn’t said anything compromising, but you had kissed Charles back and that was enough to incriminate you. And even though he hadn't seen anything, you and Charles were too close for anyone to think you were just talking. Lewis wasn’t stupid and even if he was faking it, seeing your faces almost touching must have made him suspicious. 

The last thing you wanted was hurting him, after he had treated you so well, showing you love and respect. But maybe it was already too late. 

“Did I interrupt something?”, he asked. 

You could feel the tension building up. 

“No”, you quickly lied. “I went out for a smoke and we meet but he was leaving now.”

Charles looked at you, totally ignoring Lewis. This time it was you who was sending him away but he wasn't going to give up, not this time. That kiss had told him more than you were willing to tell him, at least not yet.

“Oh, that’s good. I imagine you had a few things to tell each other”, Lewis said. 

You wondered if that was a way of saying that he had heard everything or simply an observation knowing what had happened between you and Charles in the past. You were about to tell him that you had told Charles about you and him but the Monegasque driver preceded you. 

“Yeah, we had and by the way, she told me about you two”, he said finally looking at Lewis. 

“Oh, well. This is a little embarrassing… But I hope it’s not a problem for you, for us.” 

“No, it’s not. Just be smarter than me and treat her well”, Charles said surprising you. You looked at him. Was he letting you go? Was he giving up on you again?, you asked yourself.

You knew it was the right thing for you, especially if you wanted to make things work between you and Lewis, but part of you wanted to do nothing more than run into Charles’ arms and tell him to never leave you again. That you were his. Maybe you rushed things too far with Lewis… Maybe it wasn't too late for you and Charles,you thought. 

“Oh, don’t worry. She will be loved”, Lewis exclaimed letting both of you speechless.

But in the end, Charles’ words weren’t enough for you, they couldn’t be. You needed something more and Lewis was willing to give it to you.

I don't mind spending every day Out on your corner in the pouring rain Look for the girl with the broken smile Ask her if she wants to stay a while And she will be loved And she will be loved

[skyddish]

aftg fic but it's going sooo slowly I'm just posting parts that made me giggle and eventually I'll write the full thing: Ft. Nicky the Menace

“You guys have been in there a while and we parked five minutes ago…” Nicky peered into the truck, cupping his eyes against the glass to see inside. “Should Dan be worried?” Matt said, “Don’t say that.” But Aaron was already pulling the car’s handle to wham Nicky with the door.

Aaron collapsed into a bean bag and sent a few message updates to Kaitlyn. Mid sentence, Aaron felt a prying gaze appear over his shoulder and he snapped his head to look at Nicky, whose face was inches away. He didn’t even look ashamed. “...Can I help you?” Aaron asked. “That doesn’t look like pizza.” Nicky deadpanned.

Responding from the window, Andrew said, “My dear child, I cannot bend this Gascon pride of mine to accept such a kindness.” The reference made Aaron grimace and he said dryly, “Cyrano was deeply in love with his cousin… FYI.” He trailed off, pretending to be too invested in his phone to see the look Andrew gave him.

“Dude. If you aren't gonna try, let someone else play.” Kevin said, “Damn.” Aaron flipped him off. “It's not his fault he’s an awful driver." Nicky defended him. "Aaron tried his best.” Aaron gave him the finger too. His phone lit up again but it wasn’t a notification from Nicky this time. Aaron tossed his controller aside and unlocked his phone. Fuck you Kevin, play by yourself.  “So you can't text me back?” Nicky protested, scooping up the abandoned controller. “And I heard the clown ringtone, by the way— Rude. But when that nice flowery ringtone texts you, you drop everything? Typical.” He sneered. “You guys are right next to each other.” Kevin squinted. "Why are you texting him?" Nicky's smile fumbled and he laughed nervously, glancing in Andrew’s direction. “We were talking about you Kevin.” He said. “Yeah~ I watched the way you dabbed your pizza with that napkin. Only pussies are scared of greasing up their organs like a car.” His tone said Right, Aaron? but his eyes said Help Me.

Nicky's gasp broke the atmosphere. He was staring at his phone with wide eyes, his trembling hand covered his mouth, and Aaron steeled himself for bad news. Nicky was usually the first to warn them of public backlash, since he was the monster with the most online engagement. Aaron just hoped it wasn’t something that could get any of them murdered. Nicky lowered his hand and read from his phone screen, looking up at each of them. He said, “I just found out Alaska has the second highest rate of incest in the U.S.” Nobody said anything for a moment and Aaron stared at him. After a beat, he asked, “You’re fucking kidding, right?” Nicky's reaction would've been less severe if a teammate died. He just shook his head in disbelief and as if to prove it, tilted the phone toward them. The search bar read, ‘Alaska have incest?’ and the answer was yes.  “The first on the list was Florida.” Nicky said, completely serious. “Maybe you should move there.” Andrew suggested. “Obviously they need more diversity.”

[a-sky-of-diamonds]

Anyone in the mood for A:TLA canon divergence?

(I started working on this fic in 2021, abandoned it, but have now come back! I have planned out a lot of what happens next, though in the immediate future updates may be sporadic since I'm just about to start my final school exams, but my schedule should clear up from late June.)

“Now the admiral, the favoured soldier of the Fire Lord himself, had nothing… …Apart from a recently sent scroll. Yes, Admiral Zhao wasn’t happy. But there was a smug smile on his face as he rested his gaze on a messenger hawk, letter in its claws, flying away towards the Home Islands.” ––– Aang takes a little too long to act when he discovers the Blue Spirit’s identity — an identity which, consequently, is soon exposed to the Fire Nation at large— and Zuko is brought back into Pohuai Stronghold. That night, Aang overhears a little too much, and Zuko gains a little too good of an understanding of what it means to be captured. With his chances of returning home dwindling, Zuko begins asking Iroh what his mission actually means — meanwhile, Aang is ecstatic that there may be more to Zuko’s motivations than they all thought. All the while, a letter is racing over the seas to the Royal Palace. And a certain Fire Nation Princess may soon be on everyone’s trail… “Now the admiral, the favoured soldier of the Fire Lord himself, had nothing… …Apart from a recently sent scroll. Yes, Admiral Zhao wasn’t happy. But there was a smug smile on his face as he rested his gaze on a messenger hawk, letter in its claws, flying away towards the Home Islands.” ––– Aang takes a little too long to act when he discovers the Blue Spirit’s identity — an identity which, consequently, is soon exposed to the Fire Nation at large— and Zuko is brought back into Pohuai Stronghold. That night, Aang overhears a little too much, and Zuko gains a little too good of an understanding of what it means to be captured. With his chances of returning home dwindling, Zuko begins asking Iroh what his mission actually means — meanwhile, Aang is ecstatic that there may be more to Zuko’s motivations than they all thought. All the while, a letter is racing over the seas to the Royal Palace. And a certain Fire Nation Princess may soon be on everyone’s trail…

Excerpt under the cut:

As a rule, Aang always tried to see the best in people. You should never look at another’s bowl with the intention of finding a flaw, Gyatso had said – and it was all too easy to misjudge someone, especially when their way of life was so different to your own.

…None of that made it any easier when his rescuer’s mask came off, and he was suddenly staring into the face of the firebender who’d hunted him, Katara, and Sokka for over a month now.

(And who’d once tied Katara to a tree.)

Aang didn’t know what to think. He would’ve settled for doing something, except he didn’t know what to do, either. If he left, his friends would get to suck on their frogs sooner, and Katara and Sokka would recover faster, and then Appa could fly them all somewhere else – somewhere they weren’t in danger from the archers, where they weren’t in danger from Zuko – and less people would be hurt, and they could travel faster and Katara could finally meet a master at the Northern Water Tribe…

But-

But he couldn’t just leave. The dust cloud Aang had raised wouldn’t last forever – as soon as he and Zuko became visible, the archers would shoot at them again. And the guards were still getting closer with Zuko still lying on the ground so if Aang left they’d find out who’d rescued him, and then who knew what they’d do with Zuko when they found out who he was?

—But Katara and Sokka were in trouble. Would it even be safe to leave them any longer? He had no idea how badly sick they were, and- and wasn’t Zuko the Prince of the Fire Nation, anyway? He could just say something and they’d have to believe him. Right? 

But then why is he chasing you? A voice in the back of his mind spoke up. Why isn’t he back at the Royal Palace, doing… royalty stuff? Aang was fairly sure there hadn’t been any runaway princes a hundred years ago – at least not without an army to back them up. And he was trying, he really was, but Zhao was scary and Zuko was technically a traitor, and were you still even royalty if you betrayed the Fire Lord–?

Looking back at Zuko, Aang made his choice.

And saw that it was much, much too late for that choice to mean anything.

[jackiequick]

—A little distraction wouldn’t hurt | Hangman Fic 🏖

Top Gun Maverick Au ☀️

Summary: When Jake wants something he gets it, even if it means he has to embarrass himself or the lady he loves a little.

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Amber ‘Skysolo’ Kazansky, Hangman x OC

Requested: Yes or no

Fic length: Short.

—-

It was a breezing warm Thursday afternoon in the middle of July. The building was constantly being used up as a way to conduct a way to cool off for the people who worked there the entire week. And today was no different, expect for the fact that the workload wasn’t the best.

Usually Amber Kazansky can get it done, especially with her wingwoman by her side. But today Georgia ‘Peach’ Wells decided it was the best idea to spend a day at the beach instead with their friends. Nor did Jennifer Mitchell stopped by for a quick game. She couldn’t blame them, it was a nice day to stay laying down as the sun kissed your skin. In result, she was left alone with a laptop and paperwork to be hand picked then signed.

Her glasses slipped down her nose every time, she pushed back to the rim of her nose like it was a game. Music softly played from the radio, a random list of summer songs, as she tapped her foot. Amber was so engrossed in her files, she didn’t hear the knock on the door or for it being opened for that matter.

The door slowly swung open gently as the smell of sprinkled oranges and light lemon filled up the room. In came Jake Seresin wearing a brown collared shirt, jeans and sneakers as well as his classic black sunglasses.

He smiled at the lady in question, “Hey.”

“Hey.” She gave a short reply, typing up a email not even glancing up at the man.

“You look cute. New frames?”

“Yup.”

“Wanna take a break?”

“Can’t. Just started getting in line with these emails.”

Jake sighed, the whole time she didn’t even give him a glance or a smile. He thought for a moment asking if she wanted a beer or anything, it was a simple ‘no’ in response. He shrugged saying he’ll be back in half an hour and left for work.

—

Half an hour later she was still at it. Emails, phone calls, note taking for updates on new posts and other messages. Jake tried to distract her by rubbing her shoulder, getting her a glass of water and a snack to share, running his fingers cross her blonde hair and pretending to start organizing the office to catch her attention.

The man even sang along to the lyrics of a song from the radio.

Amber only looked up once or twice with a smile, giving him a sweet reply. Even a laugh came from her lips, which result in Jake laughing whole heartily.

But nothing that truly distracted her writing and or anything majorly strong enough to get her from standing up from her chair. Then Jake smirked. He knew actually how to distract his ladybug and get her blushing in the process, possibly. Honestly he didn’t know how he didn’t think about it earlier today, especially since it wouldn’t be the first time he done this. Well the other times were by accident, but this one would be on pure purpose and full conscious of what he will be doing.

Amber Kazansky was in the middle of a virtual meeting with other recruiters along with officers and captains to discuss plans transfer of planes, aviators and missions.

The women was pacing back and forth behind her desk, was knee deep with a conversation with Captain Wraith and Ark could new transfer students with a smile on her face.

“Ah yes i was thinking we could transfer Lieutenant Sugar Lopez here this week from Chicago over to the Northwest while Lieutenant Summit and the others take over here?” Amber asked glancing up from her paperwork.

Ark nodded from her square box on the computer screen, liking the ideas as she planned to rearrange a few shipments of flyers to California next weekend for work.

Wraith nodded running his fingers crossed his curls and said, “Okay good. Uh, Air Boss Johnson requesting to ship out Maverick and Valkyrie to the eastern side of the bay. How are dealing with this plan? He wants both siblings but Johnson hates Maverick for a reason I don’t care to know.”

Ark came up with a good suggestions onto how the plan could go as Wraith disused the idea, bouncing from one topic to another. A few peoples jumped in, chatting and comment about it all. Amber was half listening, taking notes that will be needed later for Cyclone and the Vice Admirals, adding a simple comment or two.

—-

Amber stood up bend over her desk, writing down notes she gave to the Captains, Officers and Commanders with recruiters who joined in later on during the meeting. She heard her creamy white door swing open softly as the blonde Lieutenant walked in once again. She already figured it was Jake again picking up a forgotten item he must’ve left behind earlier.

Her eyes filled from the notepad and slowly her gaze fell onto the sight in front of her. Hangman had a outfit change. His signature sunglasses were laying perfectly on his face, he was wearing short instead of his dark jeans and his shirt was well…nonexistent.

Amber had to blink twice to make sure she was seeing this right. She must be dreaming right?

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin, Lieutenant to the Dagger Squad with two air to air kills, add the confidence and audacity to walk down the hallways of a Navy building shirtless?! Like as if it was the beach?!

“OH! Don’t mind me, sweetheart. Just looking for my baseball cap, i think i felt it in your closet.” Jake said in a whisper grinning brightly as he looked around the closet behind the door.

His silly grin. His abs being kissed from the sun rays from the window. His slightly messy hair and nicely framed facial hair from not shaving the last few days. Hangman was known for being a goofy man from time to time, so this was normal. But not today, he was doing this on purpose.

Amber was stuck in a trace and groaned, the curse of the naval aviator during the summer time! Acting like smooth criminals.

Her named was called out by Wraith snapping her out of her trace as a few recruiters asked a couple of things. Amber’s eyes reverted back to her screen and hummed, “Yeah I’m still here..still here.” She went back to her conversation with the others on call.

The whole time Jake stood there pretending to looks for his baseball cap, which he already found but stayed looking like a idiot, still searching for it. His eyes stayed brightly lit with a smirk, pacing around the room pretending to search for something else.

He spoke with a random question, “Hey, i was thinking of buying a new volleyball this summer? You know, before we play me and the guys can do some push-ups too. Get all warmed up.”

She forgot her microphone wasn’t turned down and turned to him, “Honey I’m in the middle of a meeting..”

“But sweetheart, you didn’t answer my question. A new volleyball or football? Oh that sounds way better!”

“Both. And put a shirt on please..”

“Good and no. I’m heading to the gym later and then the beach.”

Jake strutted over with a rather cheeky smile and chuckled seeing the blush slowly rise on her face. Amber tried to look away, glancing at her computer wanting to stay professional as possible.

Hangman stopped himself from looping his finger underneath her chin, fully aware about the cameras on them and just smiles, “And i want you to join us.”

“But I’m working.” She winced with a matching smile blushing embarrassed, due to noticing a few recruiters looking at her from their screen.

“I promise you will have fun, sweetie. Beside you get to hang out with me and the daggers!”

“Stop trying to convince me!”

“Ah, so it’s working!”

“Jake!”

“You can’t resist the aviator charming sweetheart, give up!”

“Jacob Seresin!”

“Hahahaha!”

A few recruiters smiled quietly. Ark smirked, Wraith rolled his eyes and some commanders teased quietly to themself.

Even Sunset was on the call later on and no one notice her appearance until she’s asked, “Honey care to introduce us to him?”

Amber mentally cursed herself and sigh, laughing a bit, “Why yes! This is Lieutenant Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin. Him and his sister are highly respected here at the naval academy.”

Jake grinned brightly giving everyone on the call a two finger salute and said, “Hello there ladies and gentlemen!”

You could notice a few people in the call trying their hardest not to laugh and blush at the sight. The older generation rolled their eyes and laughed hard, they’re very much used it this due to the interrupted meetings.

The conversation between the group kept happening as Hangman gave a nice lighthearted opinion or two on the discussion at hand, listening in and commenting on the matter. Amber took notes tossing her idiot boyfriend a t-shirt to cover up.

Eventually the meeting came to a close as everyone saying goodbye and scheduling the next meeting for the upcoming weekend.

Amber sighed in relief with a smile, “And done! I’mma go change and we can-”

Jake grinned brightly and grabbed her hand, practically dragging them out the door as he yelled, “No need! I have your all stuff in the car.”

“Wait what—?!”

—-

Thank you so much for reading! Tell me, what did you think about it? ✈️

Please remember to like, share and comment.

Tags: @gaminggirlsstuff @topgun-imagines @levijeanqueen @letsgotothefantasyworlds-blog @t-nd-rfoot @morgan108 @djs8891 @msrochelleromanofffelton @hangmanbrainrot @theloveoftoms @hanlueluver @blackheart-beauty @rooster-84 @starkleila @gcthvile @buckysteveloki-me and etc

[graysonshmayson]

AITA for “stealing” my dad’s son?

Ok, stealing is hyperbole, but that's just what my brother says. I also find your theories as to what the “family business” is hilarious (my favorite guess is mafia), but I really can’t tell y'all for privacy reasons! No, a child technically doesn’t have to fulfill the role in the company, it just makes sense for the role and also is sort of a habit now? It’d actually be kind of weird if it wasn’t a kid. But that’s all I’m saying on that. 

Ok so I’ve already made a few viral posts about my relationship with my dad about my brother in this post and then about him not taking care of himself in this post. I really recommend you read them for full context because there’s only so many times I can repeat the same backstory. Short version: my (M28) dad (M48), took me in after my parents were murdered and I then created and fulfilled a role in the family business until I moved out and started my own at 18 due to our tense relationship. A lot of stuff has happened since the last post: first of all, y’all remember T (M17) from the last post? He is now legally my brother! My dad adopted him a few months ago after his parents died which honestly was a crazy ordeal that could be its own post. Secondly, J (M19) is alive??? He legally died for a time, but it turns out he did not die like we thought and came back a few years ago. Anyway, he comes home, and is furious with my dad because the guy that killed him was still a free man and he thought our dad didn’t do enough to catch him. Honestly, he wanted our dad to kill him. Which my dad did not want to do because, like, murder is generally wrong. He was also super mad about my dad “replacing” him in the job like a) he didn’t replace me and b) T forcefully volunteered for the job. Like made my dad accept him. Anyway, J got super vengeful and started getting involved with crime, and literally drug trafficking and all sorts of shady things. The third and most pertinent update is that my dad had a surprise son! A couple years ago, an old fling came around with a kid and said that he needed to take care of him for the foreseeable future while she took care of things following her father’s death. The kid, D (M14), was super angry and violent, clearly raised in a tough situation and mourning his grandfather. 

Here's where my frustration with my dad begins: by the time D showed up, me and dad were like fully okay again. We talked, I visited and helped out, etc. but he didn’t want D at first. He didn’t trust him, and didn’t even want to give him a chance because he was raised by his mother and her father, which is a whole terrible mess of a situation that I can’t even get into. Don’t get me wrong, D was and is extremely difficult. When we first met, he tried to start a fight and told me to “remember who is the blood son”. But he’s just a kid . Yeah, his behavior was troubling at best, but it was because of his awful home situation and reconciling his idolization of his grandpa who was actually a terrible person. He’s as mouthy as he is precocious, but if you really spend time with him, you can see that he’s a good kid under it all. So D shows up, and pretty quickly wants to get involved with the family business. I could tell pretty quickly that even though he tried to act all nonchalant, he really wanted to prove himself to our dad. My dad flat out rejected him at first. He barely wanted D staying with him, let alone being involved in the work. I had to fight this man to give his own son a chance, just like he did for the rest of us. Do you know how hard it is to convince your adoptive father to not shun his own son? It’s kind of scary. 

To give him the benefit of the doubt I can understand his concern. He nurtured me to the best of his ability and I scorned him, and then J died and came back hating his guts and a criminal and T is becoming so much like him it scares him. I think he was scared that he would fuck up another kid (not that I think he really fucked us up. He did his best). I helped D pretty much every day, whether he liked it or not and he eventually formed a mutual trust and respect with our dad. I don’t doubt that my dad loved D, but it frustrated me that it took all of my weedling to get him there. I think that D deserves the unconditional love that he wasn’t given growing up, and having to earn it like that from your own dad? Cant have felt good. He eventually took my old role from T, and has been doing it ever since.

Flash forward to a point around a year ago, my dad goes missing. He frequently drops off the map for work or something, but never this long. He was literally presumed dead. As the oldest, I took control of the family business which I honestly did not want to do. After years of trying to be independent from him, I really can't stress how reluctant I was to take the job, even though both T and J were vying for it too. But I was the best suited for it, so I did it. Because of this, I was working very closely with D. If he had it his way, D would be in charge of the company and he was not happy with taking orders from anyone but his father, so it was really tough to just gain basic respect from him at first. Eventually, though, we made a really good team and even though I was in a position I didn’t want, I felt very fulfilled by our work. I was so proud of D and the progress he had made. I think that while he and dad had a good relationship, dad didn’t really help a lot when it came to expressing emotions or anything like that. And boy, I have been to enough therapy to help with that. So then, a while ago, dad shows up again from where he had been, let's say indisposed , and all the sudden I’m out of the business again, because obviously I gave him his old role back. 

But I don’t know, if I’m honest it feels wrong sometimes without D. Sometimes he’ll come to the city where I live and help me out instead and it makes me really happy. I’m so glad he feels like he can come to me to talk to, or get away, or whatever. He has like one friend besides me and dad so I worry about him a lot. And when we’re all together again, I feel sort of proud when he looks to me instead of dad. Like in my head I think my dad is on thin ice. I worry that if D fucks up bad enough, he will never forgive him. I’m not shy about sharing my opinions on situations involving D with my dad which I can tell he resents it and has led to several arguments. I really can’t tell if I’m overstepping here. On one hand: he’s not my kid and I should probably respect the boundaries set by his father. On the other, sometimes it feels like I’m the only one in this kid’s corner. And I always will be. I don’t know if I can say the same for my dad. So should I keep trying to assert myself as a mentor in D’s life? Or stay out of it? 

[draconic-ichor]

The Cat, The Sun, and The Moon

Fnaf fanfic

Sun/moon x female oc

Part 9

Warnings: strong language, sexual themes, biting, blood, predator/prey dynamics, mentions of past trauma, cannon typical horror

Summary: Things deteriorate further, and Tabby decides Moon needs a little adventure out of the apartment as well.

Feedback appreciated, 18+.

Sun blinked back online, systems feeling sluggish from the lower temperature. Sitting up, the sound of cement granted against the metal of his exoskeleton, he grimaced into the sunlight.

He was on the roof again.

And his clothes were gone…

Sun huffed, lifting himself to standing. He glanced around, finding Moon’s outfit quickly.

The rising sun started to warm him, making movements easier, as he grumpily pulled on the sweatpants, forgoing the hoodie since he was just going to have to change soon anyways.

He was painfully aware his counterpart was offline, in rest mode or forced updates, he didn’t care to find out.

“Hotheaded.”

He swung a leg over to the fire escape, words low and growly.

“Self centered.”

He climbed down to the apartment's balcony.

“Piece of…”

His voice-box grated as he sat crisscross on the balcony floor, rays tilting to beginning charging. Huffing out to release tensions before they flared too high. Sun tried to focus on any little sound of the waking city, closing his optics.

Bip!

The sound of a complete charging cycle roused him from his meditations. He blinked, standing to return to the apartment.

Something was off…

He tilted his head, listening.

Walking quietly his mood dropped into worry as he spotted light filtering from the office door. Padding up, he knocked softly.

“Moon?” Came Tabby’s voice, strained with tiredness. Throat sounding dry as well.

Sun wilted a bit, despite his best efforts, faceplate leaning on the door as he responded softly, “…No.”

“Sun?” She sounded surprised, adding more to herself than directed at him, “Shit, what time is it?”

“Can I come in?” He asked.

“Sure.”

He turned the knob, peeking in to see her at her computer, the dark circles under her eyes were only partially hidden by her smeared makeup.

“Have you been up all night?” He asked, free hand clenching into a fist with concern.

Rubbing at her cheek, streaking old mascara into an even worse mess, she answered sheepishly, “I guess so. Is it morning?”

“It’s seven thirty-six am…” Sun spoke in a way that was desperately trying to hide his disapproval, adding lower, “You work today…”

“Yea…yea I know.” She nodded, looking away. Forcing a weak smile, Tabby attempted to sound sure as she assured, “I’ll be fine though!”

“You’ll be fine?” Sun echoed.

“I’ll be fine.” She nodded, trying to convince them both at once, “I’ll just clean up a bit and buy like an energy drink or something on the way.”

“Star…” Sun frowned.

“I’m used to long nights.” She waved away his concern, standing, “This will be nothing.”

Sun stood to the side to let her pass, worrying his hands together as she rambled on about past experiences of sleep deprivation. He followed behind her as she went to the bathroom.

He caught the look that flashed over her features before she realized he was there: weary and self-reproachable. Turquoise eyes shifted to meet his gaze through the mirror, giving him a weak smile before starting to wash her face.

She hardly ate breakfast, mostly filling up on coffee before rushing out of the apartment.

Sun stood, just staring at the apartment door, optics far away and unfocused. He worried his hands together, rays retracting the longer he looked. He withdrew more into himself, feeling out of place.

You could only organize a one bedroom apartment so many times.

Sun knew that…weeks ago.

He filled the madding silence by stacking DVDs into a tower, carefully replacing them in alphabetical order before doing it all over again. It was almost therapeutic.

By the time he detected the door’s lock clicking open he’d been at the repetitive task for hours. Jumping to attention, his most recent tower was knocked over, making a plastic-y hollow sound as the cases clattered across the floor. Sun winced, swiveling to check if it was noticed.

If it was, Tabby showed no sign of caring about it, struggling to get her shoes off. She kicked them away, dropping her bag to the floor before stripping out of her work clothes. She looked about as bad as she felt, eyes dull and downcast as she made her way across the apartment.

He rushed to pick up the DVDs, placing them on the shelf with habitual ease.

“I missed you today.” Sun smiled, straightening to following behind her as she went into the bathroom.

“I missed you too.” She nodded, voice soft as she ran cool water to splash on her face. Sun noticed the little wince at the much brighter light of the bathroom.

“Sunshine…are you ok?” He asked, his excitement of her arrival fading.

“Y-Yea.” She didn’t look at him, “I just have a headache.”

“Can I make you something?” He offered, “Tea? Soup? Anything?”

“No.”

The answer was quick and simple, spiking through his casing. Sun moved out of the way as she crossed the hall.

“Maybe we can watch a movie?” He reached out for her, “Or, or, or, maybe-“

“I…” Tabby looked away, “I just want to go lay down, okay?”

Sun’s outreaching hands withdrew slightly, fingers curling into his palms. He forced his faceplate to keep the smile that painted over it.

“Well sure!” He agreed, masking his words in a cheery tone. His head tilted, a shadow of his desperation cracking through as he watched her. An optic twitched.

“Star?” He asked as she passed him.

“Yea?” She asked tiredly, not even turning to meet his gaze.

“Could,” he ventured, tone needy and searching, “Could we cuddle then?”

Tabby paused at the bedroom door, hand on the handle. He saw how her fingers clenched in the slightest, shoulders sagging before she spoke.

“I have a migraine.” her voice was low, “The light makes it worse….”

There was much more implied in the tense silence that yawned after her words, making Sun flinch a bit.

He couldn’t go where there was no light…

He straightened, fiddling his fingers together. Nodding, his voice strained to convey normality, hell even a bit of false positivity, “Of course!”

Sun’s voice was just a touch too loud, making her wince again.

“You just go rest, and and and,” his smile almost hurt, “I’ll be right here!”

“…yea.” Tabby acknowledged the sentiment just enough to escape the interaction.

Sun watched closely as she closed the door behind her, painfully aware of the small click of the lock. Now away from any prying eyes he cracked, tightening enough his movements jerked as his head tilted.

Optic twitched, wandering back into the main arena of the apartment, desperately looking for something, anything, to clean.

It was spotless.

Everything was done.

Things organized and reorganized.

The twitching worsened, metal fingers clinking together.

“Moon?” Sun whispered, deadly low. His voice was almost just a staticy hum.

Moon was online, he could tell. He heard him.

“Moon, if you ruin this for me…I’ll…I’ll…” the words glitched.

M: You’ll what, Sunny?

The words were flat, no challenge yet no fear in them.

Sun grabbed at his faceplate, fingers clawing into his rays. “Well golly, I don’t know what I’ll do!” He smiled wildly, chest hurting, “I don’t know what I’ll do…”

His anger gave away into despair, rocketing through him like a comet, burning him from within.

M: Sun…

“Moon…I…” Sun crouched down, hiding his face in his knees. His body shook, rocking a bit to release tension.

“I love her, Moony.” Sun whispered, voice strained, “I love her a whole lot…”

M: Sun…

M: Sorry, I don’t…I don’t know why I-

“I know.” Sun whispered into the fabric of his pants, words wobbly and uneven, “I know…”

~

The bedroom door was still shut long after darkness fell, standing like stone before the lunar animatronic.

Moon was on all fours, faceplate pressed against the door, listening. He could just faintly pick up the soft sounds of snoring.

Tabby was sleeping.

His optics blinked open, moving away from the door slightly.

That was good….she needed sleep.

So why did he feel restless?

Moon took a few steps into the main area, pausing to listen again. Pressing his faceplate into the floor, he could hear the murmurs of a different tenant, the soft buzz of a strange tv.

Nothing to hold his attention for long, lifting his head to continue his rounds of circling the tiny living space. His optics caught sight of something, bright fabric drawing his attention. He snapped towards it, pawing closer to find one of Tabitha’s plushies laying on the living room rug.

It was the Moon plush…

Sun must have taken it earlier to give himself some company in wake of our recent silence.

Moon thought sadly, coming closer to look over the toy. Something inside him shifted.

His head tilted.

He pulled the plush closer, staring at it as if it would move.

“Hate you…” Moon whispered, words coming out like growls.

Claws scraped the old wood off the floor, grimace seared into his faceplate. A static-y sound left his voice box as he stared down into the small sewn eyes: bright blue thread staring back.

Mocking him.

He hissed, “Hate you.” Hands caging in the little plush. His optics burned red as he brought his thumbs down over its small face, digging his claws into its eyes.

“Monster!” He gorged them out, ripping into the stuffing, “Hurt everyone.” His voice rasped.

Clawing into the plush further, sobbing sounds choked out of his voice box, optics squeezing shit.

“Hate you.”

He wished he could cry, could release this rotting feeling.

“Everyone hates you.”

Wished that his body was flesh, that it would rush to comfort him with chemicals, sooth his mind. But nothing came: no tears, no relief, no kind hand.

Just him, that little doll with a false face, and rot.

“Everyone…”

He swallowed, looking down at the mangled toy.

Blue orbs gone.

Gone…no reminder of what he should be.

Of his failure…

Of his mistakes…

His chest hurt, looking at the wads of stuffing, part of him desperately wanting to scoop it up.

Desperately wanting to be held…

In a moment his demeanor shifted, face hardening as he ground his teeth. He pushed the doll away as if it was filth, lip curling.

“Deserve everything.” He hissed as he passed, stalking towards the balcony doors on all fours.

~

Sleep only brought the slightest relief to Tabitha, blinking open her eyes to the first shafts of light that peeked through her curtains. She swallowed, mouth feeling dry and heavy.

She needed water.

Standing up, she unlocked her door and started shuffling across the apartment, half awake. She stepped on something substantial, something soft that squished and gave underfoot.

Instantly sobering from her sleep haze, Tabby cautiously looked down, images of dead mice making her stomach tighten.

It was stuffing.

Relief eased the tension at the fact it wasn’t the gross remains of a rodent she'd stepped on first thing in the morning, was quickly replaced as her mind caught up with her more, eyes following the mess to its source: the torn up plush.

A little sound of surprise left her lips as she knelt down, scooping up the remains of the innocent toy.

A pain ran through her chest, guilt washing over her all over again. She clutched the toy tighter, thoughts pooling ever darker until the sound of the balcony door sliding open ran a steak through them.

Sun walked through the threshold, looking sour as he stepped out of Moon’s sweatpants. He grimaced slightly when one foot got caught in a leg, hopping a bit in an effort to free it.

“Did you do this?” Tabby turned towards the balcony.

“Do what?” Sun asked, leaning down to pull the sweatpants off his foot, once bare he turned and shut the glass door completely.

“This!” Tabby held up the toy, tone a bit more sharp.

His faceplate tilted up, he padded closer curiously. Looking over the mess, his rays retracted.

“….no.” Sun answered softly, worry and hurt thick in his voice, leaving Tabby little room to question.

“What did Moon do last night?” She asked, worry thick.

“I…don’t know.” Sun admitted turning away. He padded to the hall closet, busying himself with getting dressed to make distance between them.

Tabby didn’t relent, watching him expectantly.

Sun pulled on his hoodie slowly, going on, “I went into full rest mode…I have no idea what Moon did…”

He crossed the apartment to place Moon’s outfit on the counter to wash later. Taking a breath he didn’t need to steady himself to turned back towards her, coming closer as he spoke, “Maybe we can get you another one?” Sun offered, hopeful. He forced a smile to accompany his words.

“I’m not upset about losing this!” She held up the toy for emphasis. Seeing Sun’s smile falter at the volume of her voice, Tabby softened, wiping her cheek with the back of her hand. She sniffed, “I just…am worried and sad he would do this. I don’t know how to help, he never wants to talk to me and I just keep fucking things up…”

“Starlight…” Sun hummed, leaning closer to her.

“I don’t know what to do.” She sniffed, looking up at him.

Sun tilted his faceplate to bonk softly against her forehead, smile fully faltering. He thought for a moment, optics shifting about.

“I can try to fix this?” He offered, cupping a large hand around her much smaller ones, cradling the toy within.

“Could you?”

“Can definitely try.” He nodded, adding more softly, “I need more material though…”

“I can take care of that part.” Tabby wiped at her face more. Sniffing hard she mumbled, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He hummed, taking the toy to carefully set on the table. Sun urged her closer, scooping her up in a hug.

“I’ll get snot on your shirt.” She huffed, relaxing into his hold.

“I’m used to it.” Sun hummed.

Tabby shot him a sharp look. She didn’t crythat much!

Practically reading her thoughts, Sun reminded, “I watch a baby three times a week.”

“Ooooh…right.” She softened.

“Silly.” Sun chuckled, curling his body around her affectionately.

~

“Mr. Sun?” Dakota’s voice broke the animatronic from his trance.

Sun blinked back into the present, looking down at the young girl. Her dark eyes were big and worried.

“Are you okay?” She asked, tilting her head.

They sat at her little art table, coloring and making crafts together. Tabby had been at work for hours now, this being one of the babysitting days.

Sun’s optics shifted down, jumping a bit in surprise.

The crayon he’d been using prior now lay snapped in his tightened grasp.

“Oh I’m so so so sorry!” He exclaimed, guilt washing over him as he dropped the broken tool as if it burned him.

“It’s ok, Mr. Sun.” Dakota reached out to pat his arm. Her concern melted his heart.

“I’ll replace this.” Sun looked down at the broken crayon again, “I promise, I’ll bring a new box Wednesday, little comet. I’m so so sorry.”

“We can still color with it.” Dakota smiled finally, cocking her head downwards to ask, “What’ure you drawing?”

Sun glanced down at his picture, realizing he’d drawn a messy version of Moon in his stupor. His rays retracted. “I…uh…I drew Moondrop.” He looked up to ask quietly, “Do you remember him at all?”

“His candy!” Dakota nodded, standing up to race into the other room.

Sun shifted to check on the baby, finding him still resting after his afternoon bottle. Just as he turned back to the table, the girl returned with a book. She held it up proudly, showing off an open page.

“It’s Moondrop!” She announced, pointing a tiny finger to the page. It was a book with brief information about the animatronics from the Plex: this page in particular showing the iconic poster with the character Moon was based on.

It was an odd feeling, every time Sun saw the characters they were made to model, like he was wearing someone else’s skin.

And in a way…he supposed he was.

“Yes, Star.” Sun nodded, “That’s Moon.”

Dakota nodded along with him, beaming.

The realization that that poster was her only reference for his counterpart dawned on him.

She turned the book back towards herself, looking it over with a more serious look on her little face. Pouting out her lip in concentration, she asked, “Where does he work?”

“Well, he works with me.” Sun informed softly.

“But I never see him!”

“No…”

“Is he sick?”

“Kind of.”

“Can we make him soup?” She asked sweetly, “Mommy says soup makes you feel better.”

Sun smiled, shaking his head gently, “Soup won’t help, I’m afraid.”

“Awwwww….” She sulked.

“Thank you, though.” Sun reached out to ruffle her hair, “It’s awful sweet of you.”

She giggled, previous discouragement quickly forgotten.

Sun was quiet, watching as the child returned to her crafts.

He felt far away from the colorful little table.

~

“I stopped at the craft store on the way home.” Tabby sighed, holding out a bag at arms length.

Sun carefully took it, glancing inside as she went on, “I tried to get matching fabric from memory but….”

“It won’t be the same…” Sun finished her thought, voice sounding defeated.

“Should it be?” She ventured.

Sun’s rays drooped, agreeing, “I suppose not.”

They both turned to look at the toy, sitting broken and sad on the coffee table. Tabby reached out to squeeze Sun’s free hand a bit, making him let out a little sound. His head tilted towards her, murmuring, “Go rest for a bit…I’ll work on this.”

“Are you sure?” She asked, offering, “Can I help?”

“Not enough room for extra hands.” He admitted, but added softly, “Thank you, though. I can handle this, Sunshine.”

She nodded, going to take some medicine before laying down.

It was dark by the time she woke, bolting up a bit. She grabbed her phone: 9:31 pm…

Moon was in the same spot he found himself any night recently that weather would allow…on the apartment’s rooftop.

He lay on his back, staring up into the night sky. His hoodie had been left in the apartment, clad in only the old grey sweatpants and his hat.

Moonlight mixed with the glowing lights of the city reflected off the bare metal of his chest. Moon’s hand absentmindedly felt over the exoskeleton of his chest, fingers tracing the seams of cured silicone that littered them. Optics never leaving the sky, wishing to see the stars more clearly.

The light pollution and smog made them very difficult to make out even to his mechanical vision. His fingers curled in harder to his chest, threatening to damage the casing, closing his eyes to the yawning feeling of longing.

A sound made him sit up suddenly, faceplate swirling towards the fire escape. The metal creaked with added weight, the clink of shoes to follow. A pastel form appeared, Moon’s fight or flight response warning as he realized it was only Tabby.

She huffed, lifting herself over the lip of the roof. Brushing some of the rust from her clothes she padded over to where he sat.

She’d never followed him up to the roof before…

“Hey big guy.” Her voice was soft, guarded.

Moon looked her up and down, eyes reverting back to their normal half lidded state as his surprise waned. He huffed out, “Dangerous for you.” As he lay back down.

“You like to point that out a lot.” Tabby snickered, kneeling down beside him.

He made a dismissive sound, not offering her any other attention.

Tabby wilted a bit, following his gaze up into the sky. She wasn’t much for sky-watching, their place in the city guaranteeing a level of dissatisfaction to the hobby. Despite that, she attempted to get comfortable beside him, laying down on the concrete.

The cold of the roof seeped through her clothes quickly, sending a chill over her skin. Tabby crossed her arms over her chest, straining to look for any little lights in the dark sky.

They just lay there together, no idea for the time that passed. If not for the cold, Tabby would have started to drift a bit.

Moon made a sound, rousing her to attention.

“Why do they look…different?” Moon asked, voice gravely in its low tone.

“Hm?” She tilted her head slightly towards him.

“The stars.” He clarified, reaching his hand up towards the sky. His optics searched around as he tried to find the words, “So dark.” He pulled his hand back, clutching it to his chest, “….so far away?”

Tabby sighed softly, “It’s because we are in the city.”

Moon tilted his faceplate towards her, optic flicking away from the darkness.

“The lights drown them out.” She explained, “Out in the country, far away from any towns, they would be beautiful.” Her voice sounded wistful, closing her eyes as she painted the idea for her own mind as well.

“Have you?” He asked, voice hardly audible.

“Seen the stars?”

Moon rolled on his side, full attention on her now. A single claw scratched at the concrete roof, anticipation alighting his eyes.

“Never like that.” She admitted, a note of disappointment tinging the words.

Moon shifted a bit closer, the space between them warming up from shared heat. His teeth flashed a bit from his lip.

“Can we?” The words were light, much more than she’d heard from him in weeks. The shift in his melancholy blind-sighting her for a fleeting moment.

“See them together?” He asked more pointedly, part of him worried she misunderstood the question, while the other wrestled with the thought she wouldn’t want to spend the extra time together in the first place.

“That would be a long, long drive.” She admitted, watching him withdraw a bit. Quickly catching him before he completely hid away, she went on, “But…some day, I want to take you far away and see them.”

His gaze turned hopeful, a soft smile shadowing his lips. He nodded.

Tabby rolled back, looking up into the sky once more. A sigh left her, long and slow, as her mind wandered.

“I've hardly ever left the cities, just moving from one to another…” she admitted almost regretfully.

Moon watched her closely, single red optic never blinking.

“I want to see the ocean, and the mountains…” she thought aloud, wistfully, “So high we can touch the stars.”

“We?”

Rolling back on her side, Tabby nodded, “If you’d both come with me?”

Moon shifted, looking away as he clutched his hands to his chest. The sounds of the city as the only thing filling the silence between them.

“You don’t have to.” She soothed, voice gentle.

Moon shook his faceplate a bit, the metal making a hollow sound as it bonked against the concrete. His voice box seemed stuck with glue, words far away.

Tabby withdrew, mouth a thin line.

Sometimes they felt close, but all that warmth and familiarity could be washed away in a fleeting moment. Moon became quiet and hidden, bunching up in on himself to look small. He almost seemed scared?

Or maybe shy?

She thought, looking away as the gears turned in her head.

“Hey!” She exclaimed, excitement infecting her tone as she sat up suddenly.

Moon jumped at the sudden outburst, fans kicking up as he looked at her wide eyed.

“Let do something fun, yea?” She leaned over him, propping herself up on her hands.

Moon looked completely bewildered, hands going to wring his hat a bit without thinking.

“I know things have been…strained…between us.” She gave an awkward smile, “But maybe going out together is just what we need!”

“G-going out?” He echoed the words, optics widening further.

“Yea!” Tabby beamed, “I know somewhere I think you’ll love!”

Moon looked away worriedly, making Tabby double down, “No, you’ll love it, I promise! We have to drive tho so you gotta put a coat on.”

“Worried I’ll get cold?” He huffed, goading a response.

Tabby huffed herself now, snapping back, “No! I just don’t want people to stare at your shiny naked ass.” She crossed her arms as she finished.

Moon gave a gravely laugh at that.

~

Apprehension, and Moon’s inherent dislike of the car, strained his mood. Whatever mirth tickled around his chest now absent as he crunched himself up to fit into her tiny front seat, knees almost touching his chin.

Tabby has changed her clothes into something a bit more sturdy and dark, hair tied tightly back in a bun. She didn’t normally go out looking like this, making Moon’s curiosity thicken.

He looked away quickly when she glanced his way, instead focusing on the streetlights as they passed beneath them.

“I’m sorry…” Tabby’s voice came softly, glancing away again from the road a bit as she clarified, “About the other day.”

Moon just huffed, shifting to look out the window.

She gripped the steering wheel a bit harder, rambling to fill the silence and to soothe her own guilt. “I shouldn’t just assume the worst about you…you know?” Eyes flicking to see if there was any reaction. When one didn’t come she sighed, “It was shitty of me.”

Moon’s hand raised to do a ‘so so’ gesture, faceplate never turning from the window.

Tabby drove in silence, the awkwardness threatening to eat her alive.

“What about some music?” She offered, hand already going to the radio.

Moon turned to give her a narrow look of warning, Tabby instantly putting both hands on the steering wheel again.

“Okay, no music then.” She felt sweat on her lower back, this maybe being her top three of worst car rides.

“This is it!” Tabby announced, bringing the car to a stop.

Moon furrowed his nonexistent eyebrows, faceplate tilting.

They were in the parking lot of a long abandoned fast food restaurant, one that sported a multi level indoor playpark. Many of the windows were boarded up with large pieces of plywood, outer walls covered in graffiti.

Tabby got out of the car, going to pop the trunk. Moon got out more slowly, still trying to take everything in.

The sound of the trunk closing drew his attention, a look of confusion over his face.

Tabby smiled mischievously, holding up some flashlights and a crowbar.

“Wanna have some fun?” She asked, wiggling the crowbar.

“Where did you get that?” Moon frowned.

She scoffed, handing him a flashlight he truly didn’t need, “They are like ten bucks on Amazon. Come on.” She gestured.

He followed close behind, still trying to piece things together.

She looked up at him, smirking, “You miss the jungle gym right?”

He gave a small nod.

“Well this one has your name aaaalllll over it.” Her voice tinged with excitement, “Let’s play.”

Moon tilted his head, optic widening. A smile crept across his faceplate, nodding eagerly as Tabby ripped off one of the boards sealing the back entrance.

Anticipation made his fans kick up as he helped pry the door open. It creaked open with the sound of splintering wood, dust raining down on them.

He peeked inside, smiling widening.

“I used to work here…” Tabby explained as they wandered through the derelict dining area, colorful seats coated in a layer of grime scattered around the many round tables.

Moon didn’t respond, faceplate swiveling about to take everything in: old drink cups and food wrappers littered the floor, a cutout of the chain’s mascot standing in a lone corner. It looked at them with a big painted smile.

“But this,” Tabby announced, pulling open a set of double doors, “This, is where the magic happens…”

Moon stalked forward, hunching over a bit to investigate.

This was the play area: a multi level jungle gym made of plastic tubing, slides, play areas on each level, and plastic windows. The colors were dulled by years of neglect, dust coating every surface. The room echoed with the sounds of their steps, Moon’s posture changing to excitement.

He was practically buzzing, wishing his zip line was here.

“Well…” Tabby gestured upwards, “Have at it!”

Not needing to be told a second time, Moon was off. Reminding her of a released greyhound.

He ran about like a wild animal, climbing up the structure inside and out. He was deft and fast, just a blue blur about the rainbow plastic.

Tabby sat on a dusty old chair to watch, leaning back a bit as a smile reached her lips.

Moon was laughing, jumping to the ceiling rafters with glee. As he jumped to the next it gave a low groan.

Tabby leaned forward, worriedly.

The rafter bowed before snapping, it and the animatronic falling into the play structure with a clatter.

“Moon!” Tabby yelled, standing and cupping her hands around her mouth to call out again, “Moon! Are you okay?!”

A tense moment of silence answered her, Tabby steeling herself to climb up just as a fit of giggles broke out.

Moon crawled out of the twisted metal, a large grin across his faceplate. He smiled down at her, giving a thumbs up.

Tabby deflated, calling up, “Be careful!”

“No!” He called back defiantly, quickly resuming his explorations.

Rolling her eyes, she sat back down, pulling her phone free from her pocket to pass the time. She got lost within the tiny screen, unsure of how many minutes ticked away.

A sound made her look up.

Moon looked at her expectantly.

“Play?” Moon hung upside down, bouncing a bit as he attempted to lure Tabby in. When she looked apprehensive he shook the bars harder, voice more urging, “Play, Play, Play?!”

“I think I’m too big, buddy.” She looked at the old structure nervously.

He paused, head tilting to the side. He crawled closer, “No. Very small. Fit juuuuust fine.”

She bit her lip, Moon wilting.

He hung more limply, whining out, “Star said we’d play?”

Tabby huffed, “I did, didn’t I…” she sounded defeated, making Moon perk up.

He rattled at the bars again, chanting for her to join.

Kicking off her boots, she reluctantly entered into the play structure, batting away the cobwebs that tried to cling to her hair and clothes. It took a good moment for her to traverse the maze to find the opening where Moon was waiting.

“Okay…I’m in the tubes.” Tabby huffed, shifting around to sit more comfortably, her feet up against the fall wall.

“Let’s play chase.” Moon smiled, big and wide, his optics shining, “You run and try to hide, and I come after you.”

“Sounds unfair.” She crossed her arms.

Moon shook his head, trying to keep an air of calm over him despite the excited vibration that rattled through his whole form. “No, no, no.” He corrected, “I’ll play fair, I promise.”

Tabby squared her jaw, leaning towards him a bit as she held out her right hand. “Pinky promise?” Her smallest finger offered out, almost as a challenge. Her sea green eyes flashed in the darkness.

Moon’s smile returned with a vengeance, eagerly shuffling closer in the small space. He locked his pinky finger with her own, rasping out, “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“You don’t have a heart.” She teased, making him roll his eyes.

“Cross my wires and hope to die.” He corrected lowly, optics narrowing.

Her lips cracked a smile.

But as she attempted to pull away, his finger gripped hers tighter, drawing her closer. She winced, eyes darting between the hold and his faceplate.

He leaned in closer still, huffing out synthetic breath into her ear. “The rules, kitten.” He whispered, “I’ll give you three minutes to hide before I start hunting. You can run as far and as fast as you want.” His voice was deadly low, causing a shiver to crawl up her spine.

“But if I win.” His smile spanned his faceplate, “If I catch you….You’ll be mine.”

As soon as the words sank in he let her go, the promise made.

He sat back on his haunches, detecting a spike in her heartbeat. Tabby swallowed, backing away to give herself room to breathe.

The dust heavy air suddenly felt stifling.

“One.”

Moon’s voicebox rasped, his claws flexing excitedly at Tabby’s sudden look of panic. She shuffled around to her hands and knees, stumbling over herself in her hurry to hide.

“Two…Three.”

His voice echoed off the plastic tubing. Tabby’s knees already aching from her crawl-running. No matter how far she seemed to go, his voice always seemed close, ever counting.

Finally she found a spot, far away and secluded, that she felt safe enough to stop. While trying to calm her thundering heartbeat she came to a sudden realization:

The counting stopped.

Tabby sucked in a breath, holding it in her lungs as she strained to listen.

The eerie silence was replaced with something even worse.

Moon was singing.

The animatronic’s gravelly voice sang along to his music box, glee evident in his tone alone.

“Round and round the cobbler's bench

The monkey chased the weasel

The monkey thought twas all in fun….”

The music stopped for just a fleeting moment. Tabby heard a bang much closer than she expected, hands going to her mouth to stifle a squeak.

“POP goes the weasel!”

The singing started again, much clearer:

“A penny for a spool of thread

A penny for a needle

That's the way the money goes…”

The scrape of metal against plastic echoed off the tubes, a gravelly voice chucked out the next line, “Pop goes the weasel!”

She bolted, adrenaline fueling her. An aching pain radiated through her knees as they scraped against the confined space, the old bolts holding the structure together snapping at her from static electricity. Her heart hammered in her ears.

All the while the singing continued, echoing around her.

He was everywhere, all at once. The image of his earlier romp flashing through her head: how quickly and easily he traversed the derelict structure.

“Round and round the mulberry bush

The monkey chased the weasel

The monkey stopped to pull up his socks…”

“POP goes the weasel!”

“Half a pound of tuppenny rice

Half a pound of treacle

Mix it up and make it nice!”

Tabby crawled through a cobweb, falling back a bit to sputter and wipe at her face. A red glow caught her eyes as the flash of teeth called out, “Pop goes the weasel!”

“Fuck!” She cursed, jumping into a nearby slide. Dust rained down, the bolts snapping and biting at her. One particularly loose one catching her hair and pulling it free of the bun.

Her sock clad feet hit an old play-mat, jolting her.

Shit.

She thought darkly, the slide only went to a different part of the structure instead of fully to the bottom. The darkness, mixed with the maze-like build had Tabby realizing she was thoroughly lost in the mess of rainbow plastic and foam coated bars.

She didn’t have long to mull over that as the singing picked up with a vengeance. Looking up, she just saw the animatronic dropping down on top the the layer she was currently in, giggling madly between words:

“Round and round the cobbler's bench

The monkey chased the weasel

The monkey thought twas all in fun!”

He was having the time of his life…

She thought before running again.

Like a scared little rabbit though its tunnels, as a viper hunted it down.

She burst out of the tube, falling into a small plastic room opening up somewhere within the structure. Tabby eyed another tube on the far side, trying to crawl toward it.

A hand shot out of the tube she just escaped, grabbing her ankle.

“Pop goes the weasel!”

Tabby squeaked, falling on her side as she was pulled backwards. She looked back, stomach suddenly dropping.

Moon was upside down, clinging to the top of the tube as he effortlessly crawled forward. His face was illuminated red by his optics, teeth looking exaggerated in the low light. He looked terrifying.

Oh fuck.

Tabby thought.

This was a mistake…

She kicked off his hold, trying to make a last ditch effort towards the far tube. She didn’t make much progress.

He darted from the tube on all fours, dropping down easily from the ceiling seconds earlier. A finger hooking into a belt loop of her jeans, pulling backwards.

Tabby lost balance, falling to her stomach.

“Fuck!” She yelped.

He pressed against her, faceplate dipping in dangerously close to her face. Tabby tried to raise up, her head being forced back into the plastic beneath her instantly. Moon’s hand tangled in her hair, using just enough force to keep her in place.

A low chuckle escaped him, making her tremble.

“I won.” He hummed into her ear, body caging her in.

“M-Moon?” She started, his hold tightening a bit to pull on her hair. She winced, falling silent.

“Shhhhhh.” He hissed.

The space felt hot, the smell of plastic making her head spin. She could hear the sound of Moon’s fans kicking up, steam a coming threat if he couldn’t cool his systems.

He carefully pulled down the collar of her oversized sweater, artificial breath huffing over her skin. Feeling her tremble, he chuckled again, low and slow.

After everything she was going to die in a stupid fast food play place…

She thought darkly.

Tabby felt teeth scrape the nape of her neck, panic pulling her back into the present. She tried to raise up on all fours, unable to with the weight of the animatronic over her. Moon clasp a hand over her mouth, stifling her yelping.

He forced his faceplate more into her, biting down. His teeth sank into the space between neck and shoulder, only using enough pressure to mark her.

Tabby’s body surged with adrenaline, and…was that arousal? Back arching at her body’s own will.

Moon faltered, hand slipping to allow a mewl to leave her lips. Sensing her vitals he pressed more into her, teeth popping skin. His tongue bathed over it in a mixture of curiosity and the desire to soothe the sting.

Her mewl thickened into a moan at that, Tabby trying to swallow the sound in embarrassment. He tilted his head at the sound, tongue trailing up the back of her neck until his mouth pressed against her ear.

“Fighting so hard.” He jeered, “Yet you enjoy every moment.”

She started to struggle again, Moon propping himself up to allow her to wiggle onto her back. She hissed, bite stinging as it hit the hard plastic through her shirt.

She froze, eyes locking onto his, catching her breath.

His optics were half lidded and hungry, a large hand moving to caress her face. Tabby could feel her heartbeat in her throat, the space suddenly feeling closed in and intimate.

Moon’s thumb moved to swipe across her lip, Tabby opening slightly unintentionally. His optics were fixed there.

“Moon?” She whispered.

Gaze flicking back to her eyes, he looked like a man starved.

She reached for him and that last thread snapped. Separate storms collided, crashing into one another.

His lips pressed against hers, warm to the touch. She closed her eyes, pushing back against him. Moon took seconds to force his tongue into her mouth, curiously exploring her taste.

It was odd, the animatronic not producing saliva or any kind of moistening agent in their mouths. His tongue was dry, tasting almost sterile. She could only detect the smallest hints of copper, wondering if that was her own blood instead of anything truly his.

Artificial breath huffed out, mixing with her own as he pulled back ever so slightly. Tabby panted, staring up at him, face crimson. He licked his teeth, a smile slicing his face in two before he ducked back in. Whatever he tasted on her, he clearly enjoyed it.

It was nothing like a human kiss, mouths too mismatched for that; yet it was zealous and needy, making her feel wanted in ways she never thought possible. Tabby held onto him as he lifted her, pushing her gently into the wall of the opening.

Quickly feeling overwhelmed, Tabby broke the kiss for needed hair. She hugged him, face against the soft material of his hoodie. Moon made a sound akin to a purr, shifting back to sit.

She tried to even her breathing, legs easily wrapping around his narrow waist for stability. Moon leaned back, faceplate clinking against the plastic wall, fans in overdrive to cool his systems.

“So I guess you enjoyed the tubes.” Tabby huffed, relaxing a bit in his hold. He made a rasping chuckle.

“Who knew letting you run around like a feral animal was all you needed to open up. She sighed, teasing in her tone.

Moon put a hand over her face, stifling sounds, “Shut up.”

They rested in the darkness for some moments, Moon clicking on his music box to fill the silence. A realization dawned on Tabby, however, sitting up. Moon opened his eyes, tilting his head to the side.

“Wait.” She thought aloud, “Wait, wait, wait….I thought we needed like a bonding exercise or something because we weren’t as close. But you just kissed me!” She turned, pointing at him, “We’re you just shy the whole time?!?”

Moon gawked at her for a moment, suddenly pulling his hat down, hiding his face.

“Oh. My. God.” Tabby playfully hit him, “You were!” She wrestled him for a moment to get the hat off but as soon as his face was revealed she made another upset sound.

Optics were black, faceplates frozen…Moon had shut off his faceplate.

“That’s no fair!” Tabby stood on her knees, grabbing a limp arm, “I've caught you this time!” She showily bit at his forearm, blunt teeth clinking against the metal.

Moon made a smirking sound, optics blinking back to life, it thickening into full laughter as she tried to look intimidating.

“Brat.” He took her face to stop her biting, smiling toothily at her.

“You have no room to judge.”

S: She’s right…

M: Shut up.

~

Tabby was home, cleaned up, and safely tucked in bed, Moon waited quietly until her breathing evened.

He carefully stood from the bed, having cuddled Tabby to sleep after their little adventure. Looking back, his optics scanned over her peaceful form, taking in every little piece of her

A smile reached his faceplate, feeling lighter than he had in weeks.

Moon crossed the room, closing the door with programmed delicacy. Main directive complete he now had another job to work on…

Moon typed away at the computer, careful to listen for the door across the hall.

He was snooping again…

But this time, by request.

His optics scanned the screen, shifting to look at the medical discharge paperwork and compare information.

Yes.

He’d found it.

“Sun.” He murmured, looking over the information, “I got in.”

S: You actually did it?

S: You’d think hospitals would have better security…

M: It took me weeks…

S: True, true.

Moon read on a bit more, sighing.

M: There’s not much here…

S: She really hate’s hospitals.

M: Enough to not go for broken bones.

Moon shifted through the files, finding no record of her seeing medical professionals for the past fractures that the animatronics had discovered through scans. Fractures that healed oddly.

S: Check when she was a child.

M: I am.

M: ….

M: Nope. Nothing.

Sun was quiet, yet Moon could practically hear his worry. Moon looked further to discover Tabby made yearly visits to the doctors fairly religiously until five years ago. His brows furrowed.

S: She didn’t go after the fire to protect us…

S: Even though she was burned.

Moon’s frown deepened, remembering the multiple fracture points, healed in little knots of bone. She’d been lucky they hadn’t been full breaks, still things of that nature left untreated was risky.

S: Who was she protecting then?

[allyallyorange]

please elaborate on the spotify playlist!!!

Are songs added randomly or in chronological order to represent the development of the characters throughout the story? specific turning moments in the story and which songs represent that? any songs that are your favorite (personally or for how they represent the character)? reason for why some songs are used across more than one character? (does it represent their relationship with the character(s) as opposed to their independent character in those cases?

-enthusiastic adventureteez lover

OK YES HELLO!

I've been wanting to answer this ask for awhile but I keep forgetting cus I had to make sure the playlists are still what I remember cus my younger sister adds to them occasionally too!

As best as I could I organized the songs in chronological order, to represent the character's development/internal feelings throughout the story. Though I think I haven't tidied up Jongho and Wooyoung's playlists to make them chronological. Or they've been updated since. I started the playlists way back when I fist started doing doodles for this au so it's been a WHILE haha

My Love Mine All Mine is one of my favourites in general but also for Seonghwa specifically. It's so comforting but melancholy at the same time(?). Hwa and Yeo have one of my favourite relationships in this AU and I discovered that song right when it came out at about the same time I was cooking up ideas for this AU so I cannot listen to it without thinking about Seonghwa. It's sort of foreshadowing too, because I picture this song as Seonghwa's love for Yeosang. Despite how horrible the situation they're stuck in is, Seonghwa found a purpose in protecting Yeosang. Yeosang shows Seonghwa that life can be beautiful and it doesn't have to be so lonely. Seonghwa wishes that, even if something were to happen to him, he could still somehow watch over Yeosang. Which is sort of what will happen to him. He dies, but then he essentially becomes Prismo (the wish maker). The human Seonghwa did die, but the star became a cosmic being. Even though he doesn't entirely connect with or remember the others and he doesn't like. Go out of his way to watch over them, when Yeosang shows up crying and begging for Seonghwa to come back, the Star can't help but feel protective and sad for the boy.

Yes! Overlapping songs have significance!

I Want You - is on both The Vampire and The Star. For me I'm pretty sure the song is about breaking up with someone despite being still in love because it's just not working. But in this context it's meant to signify their codependence on each other. Yeosang needed Seonghwa to survive when they met, and even though he's all grown up, he still believes he needs Seonghwa to do everything with him and for him. Seonghwa needed Yeosang to feel a purpose to live. He lived about 100 years in complete isolation and couldn't think of a reason why he should continue to suffer through life until he met Yeosang, who was also alone. When Seonghwa dies, Yeosang is so desperate to reunite with him he doesn't care about anything else, but when he finally see's him again, Seonghwa is telling him he can't come back home with him. He tries telling Yeosang that he's not even 100% Seonghwa at all, just a fragment of him, but it doesn't even matter to Yeosang because he just wants him back so badly.

I Love You So - is on both The Human and The Boy. Don't take all of the lyrics too seriously, the vibes and certain parts are what I care about. Jongho and Yunho will always love each other like family, Jongho loves Yunho despite years of being brushed aside and treated coldly, Yunho loves Jongho even though when they reunite, Jongho is the one treating him coldly, and it's difficult to connect with him at all. They both have a mental image of the other in their brains that they can't let go of. Jongho thinks of Yunho as his cool older brother, someone he looked up to, but who ultimately couldn't bear being alone. Yunho thinks of his much younger cousin, a child. Someone he has to look after.

On that note there's a newer playlist my younger sister started just for Yeo and Hwa so that's here if you wanna listen!

and here is the post with links to the other playlists

that's all I got for now, I still will probably clean up the play lists a bit in the future, but for now! I hope you guys enjoy listening to them!

[personinthepalace]

I saw a community production of Legally Blonde the Musical over the weekend! Will share my rambling thoughts below the cut:

so I judge lbtm productions by THE DOOR(TM) bc door discourse so let’s talk about that first:

so I've been analyzing the show’s sizzle reel a bit too much haha, but from the staging I figured that there wouldn't be a door during the ballad. I said this to my friend but then she pointed out that the program literally says elle's door so I got excited

however I was right and there was no door :(

so what happened instead was that they wheeled out elle's desk and bed and luggage for her room. (oh and before that they turned on little lights that made it looked like a starry night while elle was singing the first part - very pretty). emmett comes "into" elle's room with the two champagne glasses, they sing, she cries, elle then takes her suitcase and exits through the main stage doors (these doors are the same ones used for harvard, callahan's office, courtroom, paulette's salon etc - it’s the doors seen in the video above)

so we have emmett in elle's room and elle out of her room

emmett sings *what about love* and THEN elle comes out of one of the side doors (like closet doors) and starts singing. so I guess she is still outside?? very hard to tell

but there are some steps so elle is singing from the top step, emmett on the bottom

and by the end of the song, elle has come down the steps and elle and emmett sing the ending back to back (but not touching each other)

also I would like to note that emmett tries to touch elle (to stop her from walking away) but elle flinches which I thought was a good touch

so yeah tldr: no physical door (but elle did walk out some doors), emmett is singing from inside elle's room(?), but at least he didn't confess his love to her face so yay?

——————————

now from the beginning:

there was a lot of the barbie movie soundtrack playing during the preshow haha

so they definitely updated the show to the present day - there was a selfie circle light thing, everyone had iphones and ipads but I feel like they updated it in a very organic way. didn't feel forced or fake which sadly I feel like happens in a few updated versions (say regents park). also the ways they updated certain moments was quite clever - will get into it later

so the beginning has the girls doing the tiktok dance in front of the light circle for elle and then there was no candle lighting instead they said something along the lines of "find your light"

the store manager is a guy

okay clever modern day update! elle gives her phone to one of the restaurant customers so that they could film the "proposal". but then after seeing that warner didn't propose yet, she took her phone back

at "does look like the face of harvard law", the admissions guy is addressing the audience! there was a pause so we all shouted yeah! and he looked at us like we lost our minds haha

the admissions guy saying *ethnic movement* was followed by a pause and a big gasp from the audience for some reason

there was no marching band just cheer leaders and there were two guys in skirts

oh one of the guys has a character called kiki later (the gay guy in paulette's salon) and he is basically the best background character - he had the best outfits and omigod walking around in heels and later wore the cutest boots. yeah best background character

emmett is now a class of 2019. also he hasn't slept since 2016 (it should have been more haha)

aaron tries to shake enid's hand when she introduces herself but then she gets very enid and then he just backs away haha

bruiser watches rupaul drag race. oh yeah they had actual dogs on stage! very small very cute

elle pulls out a hydroflask and an E statue thing to put on her desk

emmett didn't sing along during blood in the water which I really like

paulette has a playlist instead of a cd. vivienne came into the salon and paid kiki for a gift bag of sorts

elle has a hello kitty toy and emmett threatened to throw it in the trash haha

no more redbull they drink celsius now. also I love that they drink from the same can

another clever update! elle texts warner during chip on your shoulder. so things like *and grandma bootsie!* is sent as like a second text. (we can hear the text sound). and the christmas message is a voice memo

oh yeah and when elle introduces emmett to paulette, she takes him by the hand and walks him towards paulette which I thought was cute

omigod so during the part where elle and paulette try to communicate behind emmett's back - paulette holds the shampoo bottle like it's a dick and we all lost it hahaha

after elle gives callahan her resume, she walks towards emmett and circle around him and they're both silenting squealing and then elle walks off stage squealing haha

they did not have a handshake during chip on my shoulder. nor did emmett do any silly dance

so much better - callahan sends out the results by email so everyone is looking at their phone

also I didn't catch if warner gave his phone to someone to film or someone was just filming on their own phone but someone was filming warner's proposal to vivienne

emmett was on stage for most of so much better and when he left with the rest of the people he gave elle two thumbs up

brooke now has an app, callahan does not speak twitter or tiktok

brooke was doing the long jumprope at one point - I forget what it's called like two people are holding the rope and brooke is jumping

emmett: we are here to whip up your legal defense *does some awkward dancing* it was very funny haha

okay so emmett was wearing his bag during this whole time and during take it like a man, he gives it to elle and then she wears it for the rest of the number (I just love that addition haha)

also this emmett wears glasses and it took me a while to notice/realize but after his makeover, he no longer wears glasses for the rest of the show

this kyle had a lot of kyle swagger haha. he walks through the audience, he freaking adjusts his belt, holds the package like *that* obviously, bends over a lot - a lot of kyle haha

and then when he comes back for his stylist, and elle is like do it - elle and paulette look at each other, nod, and then jump and did a chest bump - I was totally not expecting that and everyone was laughing at that haha

during the bend and snap scene, elle says that it works on straight and bi men

the news reporter reporting the trial is now replace with the delta nus watching the news coverage on a phone (and the reporter is a voice over) - I thought it was a nice addition!

my friend said that a fun update that they should have done was paulette and kyle taking an uber instead of an ambulance to the hospital haha

when elle tests the bend and snap on nikkos, there is a guard standing next to him and the guard’s eyes bulges out (he reacts haha) every time elle does it (and nikkos doesn’t) and it was very funny

I didn't notice it but my friend pointed out that elle doesn't sing during gay or european. I figured that it was so she can rest for a song. my friend said that it's bc elle already knows that she's right and doesn't need to reason it out like everyone else. I guess both can be true haha

I completely forgot to look out for carlos during the song but there was no need bc he wasn't sitting with the cast - he busted in through the stage doors haha

my friend said it would have been funny if carlos was sitting in the audience and honestly now I want that to happen in a production now hahaha

also carlos and nikkos are both dressed in black

callahan actually pushes elle against the wall (side of the stage) when he kisses her - it is like a full on make out but then she pushes him off her and then slaps him

warner walks and sees them kissing and then immediately walks out. vivienne stays long enough to see the slap

okay talked about the ballad already haha

when emmett says *and I don’t have to hit on interns professor*, elle’s dad rises a bit but elle’s mom pulls him down and they talk - really like that detail. gotta love parents concerned for their daughter

oh instead of it being just like apprentice, the delta nus call brooke a girlboss

the scene of the crime now comes with pink caution tape - very funny seeing them pulling it across the front of the stage haha

the court stenographer is a guy! The way he sang back *omigod we rock!* was very funny haha

during find my way, callahan comes out and glares at emmett when it’s said that his wife hired emmett to handle their messy divorce

paulette gives her cards to audience members in the front row!

elle is in a pink graduation gown

elle gets the ring from paulette and then proposes to emmett. he spins her around

curtain call: they all stood in one line and sang while doing different poses

overall it was great!! better than we expected haha - my friend and I have our nitpicks haha but we had a great time :) (main letdown was no door haha) also yay for filipino elle :)

also! some random thoughts that we had from watching this production:

- how did warner get the internship? like he didn't work as hard as the other people (we're assuming). we now figure that it might be that warner's dad called in a favor

- callahan's wife getting a divorce - that means that elle and emmett must have told her? And they must have reported him to the school so did harvard fire him? does he still have his law firm? my friend thinks that he is a slimy enough lawyer - that he got to keep both positions. I like to think that he got fired

- patrick page would make a great callahan

[belethlegwen]

The Rescue - Chp 54 - That Dark Old Friend [+ Life Update]

Hey there everyone!

So sorry about the delay in updates since the Christmas season, there's a lot of shit to blame for it and I'll get into it in more detail, but in short this was a wildly busy Christmas season where I had 0 time to write between work and family stuff from like, November-end of December, and then a whole lot of house shit started happening and I've been unbelievably stressed since just before New Years.

Longer details and stuff below the cut for people who are interested, but in short the important details are:

Updates to works on AO3 may be at random times with long delays between for the coming year. Can't be sure, but for now that's how things are looking while I have way too much shit going on IRL.

Please enjoy this little chapter for now, and if you're up for a long winding journey about why it felt like all of my hair has been falling out for two weeks, meet me below <3

So the Christmas season at my job was wildly busy, on top of that there's some issues going on there between the business owner I rent space from and the person who owns the building. It's a mess, for a while it looked like/still kinda looks like we're going to have some major issues with the lot clearing what with winter being a major issue where I live in the Frozen Nor'Atlantic. That was all bad enough.

I had been told back in the fall by my landlord, who I've been renting from for 10 years now, that her mortgage was up for renewal in January and that it looked like it was going to go up a hot amount. Rates are super fucking high in Canada right now, shit's bad, the mortgage specialist at the bank I was talking to yesterday said that it's bad enough they legitimately expect the government to be stepping in soon to do something about it before it's a crisis (or more of a crisis because personally, it's already a fucking crisis and has been, but I digress). She warned me the rent was going to have to go up, I told her I expected it, I knew it was going to happen, she's been amazing to me for 10 years, if it's gotta go up it's gotta go up, I get it.

This past fall is when my partner Zip came to visit for 6 weeks and we got engaged, and when we started to plan to move them up here so we could start immigration and the like, which we were aiming to do for the beginning of this summer.

So as we're gearing up to New Year's and everything, I am expecting to deal with the start of immigration application readying, and expecting rent to increase. December 27th, I got a message from the landlord that uh, someone wants to buy the house (as an investment property and keep the renters) and despite her best efforts to try and bounce around and get a lower mortgage rate, it didn't work out and she's going to have to sell either way. So we suddenly had to get the house ready to be listed and viewed.

Viewings were fucking hell, by the way. While priority for accepting the offer was going to someone who wanted to take the property over and keep the renters in place, Real Estate agents just want the fucking sale, so being in my home while people are wandering around it scaring my cats and talking about how my bedroom was going to be the kid's room and my office was going to be turned into something else? Shit time, don't recommend. Not to mention the agents that were showing up half-hour not just away of their own scheduled appointment but a half hour outside of when viewings were actually permitted to happen.

I'm glad we have such high paying careers available for people who are, apparently, fucking illiterate, but I was getting extremely rude to agents and their desperation for a sale by the end of it. Someone tried to show up yesterday after a offer was accepted literally the night before and we sent them packing fine enough, but now anytime the rain hits the gutters too hard I think someone is walking into my home so that's fun.

We have signs all over the house about keeping doors closed to keep the cats inside, including one on the back door (where it isn't an enclosed porch) that says in extremely large lettering Access To Patio From Outside ONLY, and there were still at least two agents that opened the back door, so. Nightmares all around.

An offering has been accepted, the person who is hopefully going to buy wants to keep us as tenants, and I'm locked in a lease until later this year anyway. Things are at least, as of yesterday when I got the confirmation that an offer was in that stage, stable now that I didn't throw up this morning. Hooray! It's been hell. I can not stress enough that this has been hell.

It still leaves the later part of the year up in the air a lot, because new landlord may still want us out at the end of the lease of whathaveyou, and between now and then I am flying down to America to drive across that wild country with a car full of stuff to move my fiancee here, then we gonna get immigration rolling and the employment switchover and everything else. My Dad has been a massive rock for me during this time in terms of trying to keep me level, and as he says: "this is all just one-step-at-a-time things. You're just keeping ducks in a row".

And as I keep saying: "Yeah but I've got a lot of fuckin' ducks, man."

So that's the kind of thing that's in the air right now for me. Lots and lots of stuff going on. I'm still picking away at writing but to make things easier on myself, I'm going to not stress about any kind of schedule or the like right now and just play with whatever flows come when I have them and have the time/ability to focus on them in the few quiet moments I have between all of the other stuff.

Much love to all of you, thank you all again as always for the wonderful comments you've all left, the kudos, the people who reached out, all of it. You're wonderful <3

Take care of yourselves out there,

~ Belle

[zombeebunnie]

Game development Trembling Essence update:

Hello guys and welcome new followers, I hope you're all still having a awesome spooky month! :] This update will be a bit long but I tried my best to condense everything.

There's a specific route I ultimately decided to rework. I wrote everything during the summer and looking at it now, it had the same problem I had fixed in another one which was the odd responses/reactions from both Noah and the player(Y/N) and not many choices. There was also a lot of alternate dialog that didn't make too much of a difference, hard to keep track of, and made things very cluttered.

I decided to lessen some of the alternate dialogs and instead focus more on it changing and having situational variables depending on what you choose since in this scenario, regardless of your closeness with Noah to a certain extent, he still feels a certain way towards you and I don't think adding extra dialog to it is needed like I thought it was months ago.

The only exception to this is for a ending you can get since it would make the player(Y/N)'s reaction to everything seem really weird if I didn't change it up.

I also switched two situations around so it flows better. In the old version Noah's view of the player(Y/N) didn't line up in a certain scene so it felt as if everything leading up to that part didn't matter.

Lastly, something interesting happened while I was fixing up everything. There was a choice you could get that would be brought up and reflected later on in the route. I went and fixed it since I thought the alternate situations from it were too repetitive and gave off more of a Day 4 situation than a Day 3. The next day I adjusted it again and ended up starting them over from scratch because I thought the fixed writing was too cheesy. I was halfway through the second and accidently wrote over the one I actually liked, THEN everything crashed and reverted back to what I had there in the beginning. :,]

I took it as a sign and asked my play tester to play through it before I did anything else to it. :,]

They initially thought it was pretty good and I told them the issues I was having with it since they didn't see the other two situations you could get, the both of us bounced ideas back and forth for a while up until I went back and mixed both of our suggestions together. The revised version ended up being the one that was enjoyed a lot more since it felt more organic and the reactions were natural and not too cliché.

Now it correctly flows into a choice afterwards the can determine how the day ends. Overall, all of the revising will make this path even longer but I think it was worth it! :]

I think that is everything I have to share right now! Thank you guys very much for all your support and I hope spooky month continues to go well! >:]