you put my name up in lights

⠀⠀⠀⊹ ࣪ ˖⠀⠀⠀❛  don't  flatter  yourself  too  much.  this  place  may  have  been  boring  as  shit  without  you  but  i'm  still  hoping  someone  knocks  your  teeth  in  next  friday.  ❜  the  typical  friday  nights   —   not  that  he'd  admit  it  out  loud,  but  there'd  been  something  strangely  off  about  getting  through  them  without  sterling  around.  no  running  into  him  at  two  in  the  morning  looking  half  dead  while  the  man  looked  unfairly  clean,  no  voice  cutting  through  the  static  just  to  piss  him  off  for  sport.  it  should've  been  peaceful,  but  the  lack  of  someone  needling  at  him  from  the  sidelines  with  that  familiar  smug  grin  felt  concerningly  irritating.  sterling  was  irritating,  in  general.  ❛  i  spend  whole  weeks  concerned  about  you  being  dead  or  not,  and  you  can't  even  bring  yourself  to  give  me  a  real  souvenir   ⸺   not  even  a  lil'  postcard,  a  magnet  or  something   ?   ❜  a  scoff  leaves  mason  through  bruised  laughter,  rough  around  the  edges  as  aching  ribs  immediately  punish  him  for  the  action   —   and  the  sound  dies  quickly  into  a  hiss  between  clenched  teeth,  shoulders  tensing  momentarily  before  he's  forcing  himself  to  relax  against  the  bench.  instead  of  moving  away  as  sterling's  knee  knocks  against  his  own,  he  lets  his  head  lull  slightly  to  the  side  in  acknowledgement.  ❛  but  sure,  your  face  is  the  real  gift   ...  even  though  i  can  see  the  stress  wrinkles  from  here.  i  think  time  away  doing  people  might  be  making  you  age  badly,  mr.  well - travelled  man.  ❜  and  there  it  is   —   concern  wrapped  so  tightly  in  sarcam  it  almost  passes  unnoticed  before  mason  is  immediately  reaching  for  another  jab  to  bury  it.  ❛  did  the  trip  to  find  your  true  self  this  time  around  not  treat  you  well,  or  did  someone  overseas  finally  get  sick  of  your  face  too   ?   ❜

Except the ones about where he was or anything about his work or life outside of boxing. Part of why Sterling comes here is to escape his family, he doesn’t want to be thinking about them and he most certainly doesn’t want to talk about them. “Well, it’s a bit of a long story but since you’re so interested…” A second passes, only the distant sounds of water hitting tiles coming from the showers filling the silence that stretches between them. Then another. And another. When he’s finally satisfied with the anticipation he’s built, he leans closer, dead serious as his blue eyes lock on Mason’s dark ones. “I ended up stranded in this village,” he begins, whisper conspiratorial. “Middle of fucking nowhere, so tiny you can’t find it on the map, boring as shit. But I was so out of it when I arrived that I completely destroyed the main road. So, they sentenced me to community service, had to fix the whole thing by myself and, obviously, I didn’t want to! I wanted to go somewhere nicer. But, in the end, after I got my ass handed to me, I decided to put in some effort and fix it.” Sterling sighs, theatrical, infusing the quiet sound with as much fondness as he can, his head shaking slightly. “I learned all about the magic of friendship during my stay in Radiator Springs. Unforgettable moments, truly. Would make a good movie, I think.” It’s not the first time he’s done this, relied on the plot of the first piece of media he could think of just so he doesn’t have to share something genuine about himself, and it definitely won’t be the last. “And that’s why you didn’t get a magnet. I was very busy.” ˚₊‧⁺˖ @apreciada

⠀⠀⠀⊹ ࣪ ˖⠀⠀⠀❛ we could never be together, but it's nice to play pretend. ❜  

Lips thin as the words ricochet in his brain, their finality making his stomach churn, and it takes considerable effort not to flinch away from her. “Is that all this is to you? Play pretend?” Hurt shines clear as day in black eyes and his tone of voice, questions rolling off his tongue slower than usual. It’s not at all how Takashi envisioned the night going and now he’s not sure what to do with himself, eyes roaming the room but never lingering on the woman in front of him, grip on his wine glass visibly tighter than before. “Well, you did a great job. It was all very convincing.”

“With pleasure.” Tonight absolutely wasn’t the night for it, even without the fight, they were way too drunk. But she can’t help the way her eyes immediately flicker to his lips the second he suggests getting on his knees later, mouth growing dry. “Good, because it’s going to be extremely relevant during our next lesson.” She whispers back, matching his discrepancy. Personally, if Solomon wanted to kiss her right this second, she didn’t care what the taxi driver ended up seeing as long as he kept going but Solo was a gentleman, and so instead of testing her luck and trying to steal a kiss, she rests her head on his shoulder and relaxes into him. “I’ll allow it, or you could stay the night. You’ll probably break Camille’s heart if you come in and leave but she’ll get over it if you bring treats next time you’re over.” It wasn’t Camille’s heart she was worried about, not really, but it wasn’t as if Seri could ask him to stay after picking a fight with him. They’d just spent how long arguing outside of a cab, the fact he was walking her to the door and trying to set her up with what she'd need when she inevitably woke up with a killer hangover in the morning was more than she deserved at the moment.

It’s reassuring to see that, even after everything, Seri is still willing to get close to him, to be physically affectionate. Warmth spreads from his chest all the way to the tips of his fingers and Solo smiles, turning his head slightly, just enough to kiss the top of her head, palm dropping to her knee. They’ll be okay, he tells himself again and again, willing it to settle in the folds of his brain. They can work this out and everything will be fine eventually. “Looking forward to it,” Solomon purrs near her ear. The only sound that fills the car as he grows quiet and mulls over Serissa’s offer is the quiet music coming from the radio and the occasional rhythmic clicking of the driver’s blinkers. “I mean… I could if you’re sure you’re okay with that?” It’s a tempting idea. If he stayed the night, he would make sure she is safe and okay and he does always sleep best when they’re cuddled together. But Solo can also come up with several reasons why he shouldn’t. Would they really be able to process everything said tonight properly if they continued to be around each other? What if they fall into another argument and there’s even more to unravel when they eventually get to it? “I don’t know. I want to, I really do, but I feel like I’ve already upset you more than enough tonight. Wouldn’t you like a breather form me? Some space?”

he rolls his eyes as he takes another sip of his drink. far too sober not to recognize her customer service voice being used. “ talk about what, d ? ” he asks, exhaustion easily recognizable in his voice. they were over and he made peaace with that. he no longer wants to dig up a past that will only freshen the wound he worked so hard to heal. “ you've been out of my hair since you broke up with me. what else do you want from me ? ” and even despite his best efforts. the annoyance on his face can be traced. he knew coming here to meet her was a bad idea. still, he went. why ? because maybe there's a little part of him that hoped that when she sees him. she'll change her mind. that she'll see he can make more of himself. that maybe he would be enough this time.

The nickname makes her sigh, soft and fragile and lost in all the sounds of the bar around them, fingers clinging a little tighter to her drink. “To apologize, mainly.” With how obsessed Duygu is with perfection, admitting she was in the wrong always tends to be a little difficult. But it is necessary. “I said a lot of shitty things back when we… when we last talked.” Though talk is quite a generous word for what had actually occurred and Duygu winces at the memory of her own vice, loud and angry as she shouted out all of her frustrations, however small, while pacing her apartment like a caged animal. “And I am really sorry for that. You didn’t deserve any of it.” She had replayed her final fight with Cedric in her mind every single night, regret growing overwhelming as did her loneliness. It’s never been clearer to her what people mean when they say you never know what you have until it’s gone. “And, truthfully, now that I’ve thought it over, I think I was wrong. About everything. You were the best part of my life and letting you go without telling you that just didn’t feel right.”

That feeling never goes away. He doesn't think it ever will. Cherry has seen only fragments and shards of improvements over the years they've known each other and still she says he's her favorite. Still she says she loves him. (It shouldn't make his heart stutter. There's no way she means it the way he would, if he could say it. But it's something. It's so much.) "You are a liar. There is nothing great about me." He says it because he doesn't know how else to accept her kindness, because her too sappy threatens to overwhelm him, and yet Aksel only squeezes her tighter in his arms. "Will you.... can I..... fuck, this is weird, but I think I could.... I could sleep again if we're in the same room. Your room or mine, I'll take the floor, I just... need to know that you are safe."

It breaks Cherry’s heart when he talks like that. If only Aksel could see himself the way she sees him or know just how lovely he makes her life by simply existing… until then all she can do is sigh in clear disapproval and drop gentle reminders that he is very wrong. “Don’t even get me started. I could whip up a really impressive PowerPoint about all of your amazing qualities in record time. If I wasn’t worried that you’ll get really awkward about it, I would have probably already done it a hundred times.” They really ought to dial it back before all the things coming out of their mouth start seriously veering away from platonic besties territory. “No, that’s not weird,” Cherry blurts, maybe a little too quickly, then clears their throat a couple moments later. “Of course, we can do that. But I am not letting you sleep on the floor. I’m not hearing out anything you have to say about that. It’s just not happening. What if you get sick? Or your back or something starts to hurt? We can’t have that! Who is going to reach the top shelves for me then? I’ll look really stupid using a step stool at my big age.” That would be the least of their problems, of course, but it’s the first thing she can think of to lighten the mood. “My bed is big enough for both of us and I wouldn’t mind sharing. But if it would make you uncomfortable, that’s fine, we don’t have to do that. I’ll take the floor.”

"nora wanted me to tell you that she says hi, by the way. she doesn't remember meeting you, but she, uh, likes watching your games with me." rhys loves talking about his daughter, but it feels a little... strange, with nick. if she hadn't been born, rhys would have gone pro, just like nick. but she was born, and now he barely knows how to talk to the man he once considered his best friend.

Genuinely surprised, Nick gapes, blinking owlishly for several long moments. “Wait, really? She does? That’s so sweet! Now I’ll be nervous next time I play knowing you guys are also going to see that. I honestly didn’t expect you to… um, still be watching tennis.” Immediately, he wishes he didn’t say that. Because there’s no way to erase that, he clears his throat and rushes ahead, “How have you two been? Happy and healthy, I hope?” Keeping up with friends has never been easy for him but it got borderline impossible when he went pro and spends more than half the year on different continents. Rhys, however, was one of the people that had stayed on his mind and he’d felt bad for drifting away from. It was normal, of course, with how busy they both were but that doesn’t alleviate his regret. At least now there’s a chance to fix that. Nick leans back in his seat, arms crossing in front of his chest, expression growing soft. “Whenever I’m home and I have time, I’m trying to get my nephew, Leo, into tennis. He’s four so literally the perfect age to start but my brother says I’m just bothering him. Which is super false, for the record, I’m a great coach and we have fun. It’s a great way to bond!”

LUCIEN LAVISCOUNT in This Time Next Year (2024)

"just ... a little," she admits, bringing her index finger and thumb close together and winking through it. clearly, more than a little. it's not her fault, she was had these weird and unsettling feelings for nick that he didn't seem to pick up through any of her telepathic signals — it was ridiculous. she was way too proud to spell it out for him, because imagine he doesn't feel the same way? sometimes, she feels like he's incapable of seeing her as anything more than a friend. but then, he says something that makes her heart swell — and looks at her in ways that make her believe there's something more. heavy lids meet his, far too strong of a gaze for her to look away from, lips pursing in slight surprise at how quickly he'd agreed. "what?" it tumbles out before she can stop herself. "it does?" she croaks out. relationship! he said relationship! suddenly, she's feeling far better and stronger — moving her chair closer to his and peering up at him through drunken eyelashes. "i really, really can't stand it. seeing her with you, all happy and coupley. it's been making me want to puke. if you wanted a fake girlfriend ... why couldn't you have just picked me?"

Leyla is so cute that, despite all his worries, an affectionate smile graces his lips. “Sure. A little. Let’s go with that for your sake.” It doesn’t matter to him exactly how drunk she is, he’ll still be fretting over her just the same anyway. “Of course!” He nods his head, brows furrowing in concern. See, Nick is aware he’s not the best at showing his emotions but it doesn’t sit right with him that she’s so surprised to hear this. “I’m sorry if I haven’t been making it very clear but… you’re one of the most important people in the world for me.” Maybe just as important as his family at this point. Dark eyes grow wide behind round glasses, a hand reaching out to grasp her shoulder and steady her before Leyla has the chance to tumble like he’s scared she will. “Careful,” he mutters, taking it upon himself to slide her chair closer until it’s pressed right to his and the distance between them has shortened considerably. Nick’s mouth opens and closes several times as his best friend rambles, so overwhelmed by all the information that he doesn’t know which part to focus on. “I don’t—I didn’t want any of this.” Between how badly he dreads meeting new people and his fear of relationships, fake dating a complete stranger wasn’t exactly on his bucket list. “If I’d had a choice, I would have picked you. At least I know I’m comfortable around you.” Though would it really have been comfortable and easier to pretend to date Leyla? In a lot of ways, he thinks it might have actually been torturous. The thought of holding her hand in public or leaning down to kiss her isn’t foreign by any means but it always makes him feel seconds away from a heart attack so the real thing would have probably been detrimental for his health. Still, even when he knows that probably shouldn’t be the case, Nick’s curiosity about what being affectionate and relationship-y with her would feel like lingers. Face flushing, he looks away from Leyla again and clears his throat. “But we could also fake date if that would make you feel better? We would probably have to wait a bit so it doesn’t seem like, I don’t know, a rebound or something. I don’t want anyone in the press to call you anything terrible because of me.”

he's peculiar, though amelia can't exactly place why. maybe it's the mannerisms — the consistent do - gooder energy even when he's clearly uncomfortable. she might be drunker than she normally gets, but even that much isn't lost on her, like a whirring brain that couldn't even manage to turn off after five shots. “luckily, we'll probably never see each other again after this,” she huffs out with something close enough to a laugh breaking through a hard exterior. he has no clue that she isn't like this one bit, isn't messy, isn't temperamental. she left that part to her younger brothers and soaked up all of the perfection instead. “...how far is main street from here?” she could hardly tell — probably because even after moving here, amelia never cared to get her license. no need to learn street names when you could call an uber anywhere you needed to go. that's precisely why she feels compelled to take one. “i'm sorry, is that judgment i hear?” even a drunk amelia couldn't resist being snide, narrowing eyes that were glazed over anyway, line of sight too blurry for her usual bravado to make any impact. “i know my address, that's the only one that matters. i don't have a partner — i got dumped." she sighs and stops herself from the details, as humilating as they are. "which is probably how i ended up here in the first place. and the last thing i need is calling a friend and facing the embarrassment of this.”

“Hopefully.” Not even a trace of malice when he says that, voice and tiny smile matching her amusement perfectly. “You’re quite the troublemaker, Amelia.” Although now that he’s not as freaked out about her sudden appearance in his apartment and move on from the insulting comment she made a bit earlier, Rohan supposes this isn’t all that bad. Or, well, it could have been a lot worse. At least Trinket found himself a new friend, purring softly from where he’s curled up by Amelia’s side. “Um, pretty far… is that where you live?” He looks her over again, curious, trying to discern if she looks like a person who resides on main street. She just looks rich and surprisingly put together for someone this wasted. “A little bit,” Rohan admits without guilt, nodding his head. “It’s just that you’re drunk enough that you broke into a random person’s apartment so hopping in a car with a stranger… I don’t know, you’re free to do whatever you want obviously, but I would advise everyone I know against that.” Sure, he’s also a stranger to Amelia but he thinks it’s solid advice anyways. Lovely! Just his luck to ask someone that just got broken up with if their partner can come and take care of them. “Oh… I’m sorry about that.” Offering comfort when they just met under the weirdest circumstances ever about ten minutes ago feels very odd but he can’t just leave it without saying anything so he forces a small, encouraging smile on his face. “You’ll find someone better, I’m sure. Trinket’s a good judge of character, usually, so I trust you’re probably a decent person and you’re pretty so someone nicer will come along soon enough.” Rohan sighs heavily, fingers rubbing at his temples in hopes that he can chase away his upcoming headache, though that seems unlikely to happen until he figures out a solution to this situation. “I get that this isn’t a fun thing to explain to anyone but they’re your friends! They’ll understand and they’ll help you out.” Unless they’re shitty friends in which case Amelia should probably cut them off. But that’s frankly none of his business. “You could also always lie to them about what actually happened, I guess. If you feel that uncomfortable with the truth. And I’ll back you up if you need me to.” Growing quiet, Rohan leans back in his seat, bottom lip caught between his teeth as he thinks. “My next best suggestion is that I drive you home. Which technically goes against what I just said about cars and strangers but… offer is on the table, feel free to consider it.”

there it goes (acoustic) - maisie peters / fourth of july - fall out boy / bang the doldrums - fall out boy / daisy jones and the six - taylor jenkins reid / writer in the dark - lorde / silver springs - fleetwood mac