#i'm not sure what else to tag it as so lmao

[wordsofwhimsy]

❀ꗥ～𝐁𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭, 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐆𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬𝐨𝐧 ～ꗥ❀

❀ꗥ～ Part Two ～ꗥ❀

Pairing: Main!Mark Grayson x Southern Belle!Reader

Warnings: None

Tags: Fluff, slice-of-life, southern charm overload

Word Count: 2,303

Synopsis: Mark is definitely not obsessed with the new girl in school—he’s just... curious. Totally casual. Until she invites him to lunch under the big tree out front and serves up a full-on southern picnic. Between the cloth napkins and sweet tea, Mark finds himself spiraling farther into the honey-soaked abyss.

a/n: we in this y'all!!!! idk how many parts i'm gonna make for this but reader really got my ass in a mf chokehold 😭 boutta write a self insert x southern belle!reader fic LMAO jk

read part one ❀ꗥ～ Here! ～ꗥ❀

Mark walked into the cafeteria like he did every day—casual. Breezy. Totally unbothered. He was just a guy. Just a regular guy getting lunch like everybody else.

So what if he’d spent the last three hours thinking about the girl who sat next to him in biology? The one who talked like sweet tea tasted and looked like she’d stepped off the set of Gone with the Wind. That was… normal. Totally.

His eyes swept across the room as he passed the lunch line, definitely not looking for anyone in particular. Nope. Not at all. He was just… checking the place out. You know. Casually. Like a guy who did not care at all.

And yet—his gaze kept drifting. The same corners. The same tables. Maybe she left early. Maybe she wasn’t a cafeteria person. Maybe—

“So…” William’s voice cut in, eyeing him like he was trying to spot a fever. “You gonna stare into space all lunch or actually eat something?”

Mark blinked, yanked out of his spiral. “Huh? Yeah. I���m good. Totally fine.” He dropped his tray onto the table and shoved a handful of fries into his mouth like that would make it true. “Just thinking.”

“About what? The pizza?” William poked at his slice like it might bite him. “Pretty sure that thing’s been here since last semester.”

Mark gave a weak laugh, but his thoughts were already sliding back to you.

“Have you met the new girl yet?” The words slipped out before he could stop them. Like his brain had just been waiting for an opening.

William furrowed his brow, then his eyes lit with recognition. “Oh, the girl from Georgia? The one in that dress? Looked like she just wandered off the battlefield at Gettysburg?”

Mark choked a little on his soda. “She’s not—okay, she’s got a style. It’s charming.”

William smirked. “She was wearing pearls dude.”

Mark didn’t even try to fight the smile spreading across his face. “I know. It was… kinda amazing. She sat next to me in biology. She called me sugar.”

William snorted, shaking his head. “Are you—actually, yeah I believe it.” He leaned back in his chair, a smirk tugging at his mouth. “She would talk like a Southern Living magazine. Bet she drinks lemonade out of mason jars too.”

Mark leaned in, too excited to care. “She said something to me—I can’t remember exactly—but it was like… ‘You look sweeter than a cricket dipped in molasses on a June afternoon.’”

William blinked. “That’s… not a sentence.”

“No, no, it was something about pie. Or syrup? Maybe biscuits?” Mark frowned, trying to dig it back up. “‘Pretty as a pie cooling on the sill?’” He paused. “...That’s not right.”

William tilted his head, clearly entertained now. “You okay, man?”

Mark snapped back, blinking. “Huh?”

“I didn’t know you had a thing for southern girls.”

Mark opened his mouth to deny it. To say it wasn’t like that. That he was totally, absolutely fine. But instead, what came out was: “She gave me a butterscotch.”

William stared. Then nodded. “Oh yeah. You’re gone.”

But before Mark could sink any deeper into the warm, sugary spiral that was his brain on you, a flicker of movement outside the cafeteria windows caught his eye.

Under the biggest tree on campus—sprawling and sun-dappled like a snapshot straight off a postcard—there you were. Flowery dress. Ruffled sleeves. Lunchbox open beside you like something out of a 1950s Coca-Cola ad.

And then, like it was choreographed by fate itself—you looked up.

Right at him.

Mark froze. You smiled, your whole face lighting up like you’d been hoping he’d be look your way. Then you gave a little wave, the kind that made his stomach do cartwheels.

His first instinct was to look behind him. Surely you weren’t—wait. You were pointing. At him. Then you lifted your lunchbox slightly, tilted your head, and gave a beckoning little gesture, like Well, come on over, sugar.

Mark didn’t even feel himself move. His body had apparently filed for independence from his brain. One second he was at the table, the next he was halfway to the door.

“Dude,” William called after him. “You haven’t even finished your—”

Too late. He was already floating out the door like a cartoon character, drawn by the siren call of sweet tea, sunshine, and maybe—just maybe—a second butterscotch.

Mark tried to play it cool as he walked across the lawn. He really did.

He slowed his steps. Smoothed his sweater. Tried to remember how arms were supposed to move when walking like a normal person and not a malfunctioning robot. Unfortunately, none of it mattered, because the moment you looked up at him with that sweet, sunshiney smile—he short-circuited all over again.

“Well, hey there, darlin’,” you said, tucking a curl behind your ear. “You looked awfully lonely in that big ol’ cafeteria. Thought maybe you’d come keep me company.”

I will keep you company every day. I will build you a porch swing. I will learn how to make sweet tea from scratch. I will fight a bear for you. Just say the word.

Out loud, he managed: “Uh… sure. Yeah. That’d be cool.”

But as he got closer, he noticed something that almost made him trip.

You hadn’t just plopped down on the grass with a brown bag like everyone else. No—oh no. You had laid out a whole blanket. A soft yellow one, perfectly smoothed out beneath you like you were about to host a garden party and not just eat lunch behind the gym. There were napkins—cloth. A pastel plaid lunchbox. Was that… a tiny jar of honey?

Mark’s brain short-circuited again.

“You brought… a picnic?” he asked, voice caught somewhere between awe and confusion.

You just smiled and patted the spot beside you with one perfectly manicured hand. “Of course I did, sugar. What kind of lady eats her lunch sittin’ in the dirt like a possum?”

He sat slowly, like if he moved too fast you might vanish in a puff of lavender and lemon bars.

“I, uh… I usually just grab fries and call it a day,” he admitted.

“Well, that simply won’t do,” you said, already pulling out what looked like an entire home-cooked meal from your lunchbox. “I brought extra.”

Mark tried not to stare. There was a thermos. Cornbread. A spoon wrapped in a cloth napkin embroidered with your initials. The world around him went fuzzy.

“You, uh… pack lunch every day?” he asked, dazed.

“Mmmhmm,” you hummed, unscrewing the thermos lid. “Can’t rightly trust these cafeteria folks with my grits.”

Mark blinked. “Wait, you have grits in there?”

“Cheddar bacon,” you said with a proud little grin. “Made ’em this mornin’. Threw in just a pinch of hot sauce, too—don’t worry, not enough to make your ears ring.”

“You made these? Before school??”

You shrugged like it was nothing. “Sure did. Even had time to iron my skirt while the biscuits were browning.”

Mark stared. You offered him a spoonful of grits like you were handing him a sacred gift. He accepted it like one.

“Okay, uh, full disclosure, I don’t think I’ve ever actually had grits before,” he said.

You gasped, genuinely scandalized. “Never had grits? Oh, sugar, that’s a sin in some counties. Go on now—first bite’s the best.”

He took a bite. And stopped.

He blinked. Looked down. Looked back up at you.

“…This is stupid good,” he mumbled through a mouthful. “Like—I think I saw God for a second.”

You beamed. “Aren’t you sweet? They came out alright, I s’pose. Didn’t have time to melt a pat of butter on top.”

Mark laughed. “No, seriously. You’re like… a magician. Even without the butter.”

You leaned back on your elbows, pearls catching the sunlight. “And you,” you said with a wink, “are sweeter than my meemaw’s tea.”

Mark was absolutely, positively, entirely gone.

And just when he thought he couldn’t sink deeper—

“Oh!” you chirped, reaching back into your lunchbox. “Almost forgot dessert.”

Mark blinked. “There’s dessert?”

You unwrapped a tiny square of wax paper like it was gold, revealing a perfectly round, homemade pecan pie. An actual pie. At high school.

“I made a whole batch last night,” you said like it was nothing. “Wanted to bring one in case I made a new friend today.”

Mark stared at the pie. Then you. Then the pie again.

He almost said I love you out loud. Swallowed it back down with a wheeze. Accepted the pie like the precious relic it was.

It was flaky. Warm. Sweet. Perfect.

He let out a low, involuntary noise of appreciation. “Oh my god. That’s insane. How are you real?”

You just smiled sweetly, wiping a crumb off your skirt. “It’s just a little family recipe, s’all. Nothing special.”

Mark stared at you. No. It absolutely was something special. You were something special. The picnic blanket. The pearl necklace. The handmade pie. The fact that you didn’t even notice the effect you had on people—that you didn’t seem to realize you were currently starring in a very real, very serious romantic comedy happening exclusively inside his head.

And then you looked out across the lawn, something wistful in your eyes.

“This place is real different from where I grew up,” you said softly.

Mark blinked, the last bite of pie halfway to his mouth. “Yeah?”

“Mmmhmm,” you nodded, brushing your hands together to shake off some crumbs. “Back home, you can’t go ten minutes without runnin’ into somebody you know. My whole high school was the size of y’all’s lunchroom.”

Mark smiled, resting his chin on his hand like a lovesick golden retriever. “What was it like?”

You didn’t even notice the way he was looking at you. You were already off and ramblin’, voice all soft and syrupy and full of color.

“Well, let’s see… mornings usually started with the rooster two houses over gettin’ real full of himself. Mama always made sweet tea first thing—even before coffee—and you better believe if you didn’t say ‘good mornin’’ to every person you passed, someone’s auntie was gonna hear about it before you got home.”

Mark let out a soft laugh, totally enchanted.

“Church on Sundays, of course. Even if you didn’t believe in a lick of it, you showed up dressed to the nines and brought a pie so nobody asked too many questions. Summer nights were all lightning bugs and cicadas. And the air always smelled like grass and honeysuckle and heat.”

Mark smiled. “Heat has a smell?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you said, nodding like it was a universal truth. “Smells like pavement and freedom and the inside of your daddy’s truck after he’s been workin’ all day.” You laughed softly at yourself, brushing a curl back from your face. “Sorry, I’m ramblin’.”

“No—no, don’t stop,” Mark said quickly, leaning in without realizing it. “Seriously, I could listen to you talk forever.”

You smiled, a little bashful. “Aren’t you just the sweetest…”

But before you could say anything else—

BRRRRRRRRRRRRING.

The lunch bell screamed through the courtyard like it was personally out to ruin Mark’s life.

Mark flinched like he’d just been shot. “No. Noooooo,” he whispered under his breath, staring at the speaker mounted on the side of the building like it had committed a heinous crime against him personally.

You barely looked up, already starting to close your lunchbox with a frown. “Oh, I know, right?” you said, like he’d just commented on the weather. “Lunch period is way longer back home—forty-five minutes, sometimes an hour if the buses were runnin’ late. I mean, honestly, how’s a person supposed to eat a proper meal in thirty minutes? It’s barbaric.”

Mark blinked at you, utterly speechless. You were out here making actual points while he was two seconds away from flying up and ripping the school’s PA system out of the wall with his bare hands.

You just shook your head and sighed dramatically. “No time to digest, no time to gossip… and Lord knows I don’t rush when there’s pie involved.”

He stared. Absolutely down horrendous.

You crouched to fold up your picnic blanket with practiced grace, not a single crumb or wrinkle out of place. It was like witnessing the southern belle version of a superhero packing up her gear.

Mark watched you, stunned. You weren’t just charming—you were a menace. A dainty, smiling, cornbread-wielding menace.

You stood, tucking the blanket into your tote with care, and gave him that signature, sunshiney smile like you hadn’t just turned his entire world upside down.

“S’pose I’ll see you tomorrow, darlin’,” you said sweetly, adjusting the strap of your lunchbox like you were heading off to a garden party instead of sixth period. “Thanks for keepin’ me company.”

Mark just nodded, completely useless, mouth opening like he had something to say—anything—but nope. Nothing. Brain? Offline. Vocabulary? Deleted. All that came out was a vague, helpless little “Yeah.”

And with that, you turned and strolled across the grass, curls bouncing, the scent of peach preserves still lingering in the air behind you like a spell.

Mark stood there for a solid five seconds, staring at the spot where you’d been like he’d just watched the sun walk away from him.

Then he looked down at the almost empty pie tin in his hands. Looked up at the bell speaker. Back at the grass.

“…I’m gonna marry that girl,” he whispered, stunned.

He was so far gone, he didn’t even hear William walk up behind him.

“You gonna finish that, or just keep whispering to it like a weirdo?”

Mark jolted, clutching the tin protectively. “Get your own.”

[itsgiovanna]

playing for love (chapter 10)

pairing: fem!character x mason mount

summary: injured and lost, mason mount begins his recovery with the help of adeline alderidge, a tough yet brilliant physiotherapist with secrets of her own. he becomes determined to break through the walls adeline has built around herself. but some wounds don't heal easily, and the closer they get, the more mason realizes she might need saving just as much as he does.

notes: two chapters in last than 3 days? ok, i'm really spoiling you guys with almost 10k worth of words with this one, lmao. enjoyyyyy 🤍

word count: 9.2k

warnings: making out scene and that's it.

next: chapter 11 (soon)

tag list: @avalentina @a1leexxa

They’d kissed.

After all the moments, the tension, the quiet glances — they’d finally kissed. Mason's chest was still tight with the remnants of it, the echo of her lips on his making it hard to focus on anything else. It had been exactly what he’d wanted, what he’d been craving — the kiss had been deep and real, a promise of something more between them. And yet, as they pulled apart, there was something else — something softer, like relief, as if they’d both been holding their breath for too long and finally exhaled.

Adeline looked at him, her eyes wide and searching, like she was still trying to process everything. She was beautiful, her cheeks flushed, her lips slightly swollen from their kiss. Mason wanted nothing more than to kiss her again, but he sensed she was uncertain. It started raining outside, the soft pitter-patter against the glass as soothing as it was ominous.

"That was..." she whispered, her voice still a little breathless. She didn’t move, but her gaze flickered between his lips and his eyes.

Mason smiled softly, his thumb gently brushing over her cheek, lingering just for a moment longer than necessary. "Yeah." he agreed, a light laugh in his voice. "I think we've both been waiting for that."

Adeline nodded, though her eyes stayed somewhere near his lips, a faint pink tint on her face.

It was quiet again, but it wasn’t awkward. There was a comfort in the space they shared now, a new intimacy. She looked like she was still processing everything — he could see the way her brows furrowed ever so slightly, like she was trying to figure out what to do next.

"Do you want to go back?" Mason asked gently, his voice sincere. He wasn’t sure if she did — with the rain pouring down harder now, and her thoughts still heavy from the kiss, he knew she might not want to face Stella and her date making out in the apartment. It wasn’t a situation that would make anyone feel great, especially not after everything that had happened between them tonight.

Adeline’s lips parted slightly as she seemed to consider it. "I’m not sure." she finally admitted, glancing back toward the window where the rain seemed to blur the world outside. "I don’t know if I want to go back there and deal with... that."

Mason hesitated, but then a thought hit him, and a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Well...” he said softly, stepping just a little closer to her. “I do have a suggestion.”

Her eyes lifted to meet his, curiosity mixed with hesitation. “What’s that?”

He grinned. “You could stay here tonight. It’s the weekend, and you’re already here. Besides.” he added, looking toward the flat. “You can get familiar with the place. See if it feels like somewhere you could settle into.”

Adeline looked at him, her lips parting, as though she was weighing the thought. He saw her glance toward the couch, where Lily had fallen asleep, her small frame curled up under the blankets.

“Lily’s out like a puppy.” he continued, his voice soft and inviting. “It’s the perfect time to get some rest. Plus, it’s pouring out there.”

Her gaze softened as she looked at the guest room, then back to him. He could tell she was torn — she was a little apprehensive, but the warmth in the room, the quiet atmosphere, and the fact that it was all starting to feel right probably made her reconsider.

“You sure you don’t mind?” she asked, a small, uncertain smile on her lips.

“I don’t mind at all, Ady.” Mason assured her, his voice steady. "Just think of it as... a sleepover. You and Lily are welcome to stay for as long as you need.”

Adeline sighed, her eyes meeting his again. After a beat, she nodded. “Okay. I’ll stay. Just for tonight.”

Mason’s chest swelled with relief and something more — something warm. “I’ll get you settled in.” he said, turning toward the guest room.

(...)

Mason walked into the guest room and smiled at how deeply Lily was sleeping. It was comforting in a way, how still and peaceful she was. Carefully, he pulled the blanket up over her and tucked it in around her. She didn’t stir, her face soft in sleep.

As he turned to leave, he paused for a second, looking back at her. It was hard not to get lost in thoughts about how quickly his life had changed, but in the best way. Lily’s small, quiet presence in his life, and now Adeline... He could feel that it was all shifting, evolving, into something he hadn’t expected.

When Mason stepped back into the living room, he found her there — curled up on the end of the couch, knees drawn up, arms wrapped loosely around them. Her eyes were on the rain tapping against the window, her expression unreadable in the low light.

He paused in the doorway for a beat, just watching.

The soft golden glow of a lamp behind her made her look like something out of a quiet dream — warm, serene, a little faraway.

“Rain’s getting worse.” he said gently, voice cutting through the hush.

Adeline turned slightly, her cheek resting on her knees. “It’s peaceful, though. I like it.”

He smiled and padded across the room, sinking down next to her on the couch, close enough that their knees touched. “Yeah. It makes the whole world feel… slower. Like we’re the only ones awake.”

Her lips twitched into a smile. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

He tilted his head toward her. “Not bad at all.”

Her eyes met his, and Mason felt a flicker of something in the air. It was different from before — deeper, more intimate. There was still uncertainty there, but it was mingled with something he couldn’t quite place. His thumb brushed over her arm as he leaned in just slightly.

“Adeline.” he murmured, his voice barely a whisper.

“Yes?” she whispered back, her breath catching a little as she waited for him to say something more.

Before he could speak again, his lips found hers, gentle at first, slow. This kiss was different than the first — softer, but with the same undeniable pull. It deepened gradually, and Mason felt her relax against him, her lips moving with his in a perfect rhythm. He let his hands slide to her back, pulling her closer, feeling the warmth of her body pressing into his.

Mason’s lips moved against hers with a fire he hadn’t realized he’d been holding back. Her hands were in his hair now, tangled and desperate, while his arms wrapped around her like he never wanted to let her go. When she shifted, sliding onto his lap — legs gently bracketing his sides — something in him nearly snapped. His hands gripped her hips, grounding himself, as her body pressed even closer to his.

It was heat and longing and a thousand quiet thoughts neither of them had dared to say out loud — all of it pouring into a kiss that felt like it had been building since the moment they met.

And then she felt it.

Her breath hitched — just slightly — as the realization hit, right there beneath her. Her body tensed against his, just enough for Mason to pull back a fraction and look into her eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, lips slightly parted, breath uneven. But there was something else too — something startled and soft and almost shy.

“Are you…” she started, voice quiet, uncertain.

Mason blinked, still breathless. “Uh… yeah.” he said, a little sheepish, his lips quirking up into a crooked grin. “Can’t really help it when you’re literally on top of me looking like that, by the way.”

Adeline let out a half-laugh, burying her face in the crook of his neck, mortified and flustered all at once. “God, Mason…”

“I know, I know.” he murmured, chuckling as he gently stroked her back. “I ruined the moment. Or, well, you kind of ruined me, technically.”

She laughed again, the sound muffled against his skin, and then pulled back enough to meet his eyes. Her expression was gentler now — softer, more grounded, though her cheeks were still pink.

“I think we should stop.” she said, brushing her fingertips lightly over his jaw. “Not because I don’t want to keep going — because trust me, I do — but…”

“But... you want this to be more than just a moment.” Mason finished for her, his voice quieter now, sincere.

She nodded, eyes locked on his. “Exactly. I don’t want it to feel like a reaction.”

“It doesn’t.” he assured her, brushing his thumb over her cheek. “But I’m glad you said it. Because if we keep going…” He exhaled a shaky breath, smiling again. “I’m not sure I’d stop.”

“So much for a gentleman.” Adeline gave a teasing raise of her eyebrows.

“Oh, I’m still a gentleman.” he said with a smirk, sliding his hand to her waist. “Just… one who’s been very, very patient.”

That made her laugh, and she leaned in to kiss him again — this one slower, warmer, a kiss of gratitude and promise.

She rested her forehead against his afterward, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Thank you. For making me feel… safe. And wanted.”

Mason’s hands slid to the small of her back, keeping her close. “You have no idea how wanted you are.”

And they sat there for a while, hearts racing and lips still tingling, the sound of the rain wrapping around them like a lullaby. They didn’t have to rush. For the first time in a long time, everything felt like it was exactly where it was meant to be.

(...)

The first light of morning was pale and golden, stretching quietly through the curtains and warming the living room with a sleepy stillness.

Mason stirred slowly, his body stiff from the awkward angle he’d fallen asleep in — but he didn’t move. Not right away.

Because Adeline was still there. Tucked into his side, her legs curled beneath her, one hand resting gently on his chest. Her hair was a little messy, strands brushing his chin, and her breathing was soft — calm in a way he hadn’t seen very often.

His arm was wrapped around her waist, keeping her close. The blanket had fallen halfway off, but neither of them seemed to mind the cool air. It wasn’t cold, not with the warmth still humming between them.

Mason’s heart beat a little faster remembering the night before — the kiss, the way she looked at him, the way she’d sat on his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. The way she stopped things before they went too far, her body trembling against his. The way she smiled after.

He glanced toward the window. The sky was grey, but the rain had stopped.

Adeline stirred against him, her lashes fluttering before her eyes opened slowly. She blinked, looking up at him, and for a moment they just stared at each other — no words, just a quiet acknowledgment that something had shifted between them.

“Morning.” he murmured, voice still rough from sleep.

“Hi.” she whispered, barely awake, lips curling slightly. Her cheeks flushed as she seemed to remember where she was — and with who.

She didn’t pull away.

Mason smiled, brushing her hair back gently. “You drooled on me.”

Adeline let out a soft laugh, hiding her face against his chest. “Liar.”

“I'm serious.” he said, grinning. “It’s okay. I’ll allow it — just this once.”

"You're so dramatic, Mase." She let out a muffled laugh against his chest.

“And, yet, you keep coming back.” He nudged her gently, his hand rubbing slow, affectionate circles on her lower back. “Kinda your fault, really.”

“Maybe I like drama.” Her voice was still hushed with sleep.

“Careful, Ady.” he warned playfully, leaning in to nuzzle her temple. “I’m dangerously close to taking that as permission to start chaos.”

Adeline shifted slightly, moving to look up at him more fully. Her eyes still carried sleep, but there was something warmer there now — something unguarded. “You already do. Just in very charming ways.”

“Charming, huh?” Mason’s thumb brushed along her cheekbone.

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late.”

Her smile faltered just a little as she studied him, fingers still resting over his chest. “I… I don’t usually wake up like this.”

Mason gave her a small, knowing smile, brushing a strand of her hair back gently. “Yeah.” he murmured. “I mean… I used to.”

Her brow arched, teasing already in her tone. “Shocker.”

He laughed under his breath, not denying it. “Okay. There were a few... mornings.” His fingers grazed her waist, his voice softer now. “But none that felt like this.”

Adeline’s teasing faltered just slightly, a spark of something warmer catching in her chest.

Mason held her gaze, his thumb tracing a light line over the side of her arm. “Waking up next to someone and not wanting to move… that’s new.”

She blinked, taken a bit off guard by his honesty, the weight in his voice.

“You’re trouble, Alderidge.” he added with a quiet grin. “Didn’t see you coming.”

She smiled, letting her fingers trail lightly down the fabric of his shirt. “Guess that makes two of us, Mount.”

And for a few heartbeats, they just lay there, quiet and warm in each other’s space — before that knock broke through the soft stillness.

His entire body tensed.

Adeline’s brows drew together slightly as she looked up at him. “Was that—?”

“Shit.” Mason muttered, eyes going wide. He sat up a little too fast, nearly knocking her off the couch. “Sorry. I— I completely forgot.”

She blinked, dazed and slightly amused. “What?”

This time the knock was followed by the very recognizable sound of Ben Chilwell’s voice.

“Oi, Mounty! Open up, mate, it’s freezing out here!”

Mason winced. “Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.”

“Who is that?” Adeline sat upright now, the blanket pooling around her waist.

“Ben. And probably Declan too.” He raked a hand through his hair. “They’re giving me a lift to training. I said I’d join a light session today, remember? I was supposed to meet some of the lads and the coach. They’re just here for moral support.”

“You forgot your own training session?” she asked, somewhere between amused and horrified.

“Well, yeah— I was distracted.”

“By what?” Her eyes narrowed playfully.

“You. Obviously.” Mason smirked, pressing a quick kiss to her shoulder.

She shoved his chest lightly, laughing, but the knock came again — followed by Declan’s voice this time.

“Mase, I swear to God if you made us come out in the cold for no reason—”

“Okay, okay!” Mason stood up, looking toward the hallway. “You.” he pointed at Adeline, voice low and teasing, “Stay out of sight. Or don’t. Actually, I’m kind of into the idea of watching Ben lose his mind.”

Adeline was already standing, smoothing down her shirt and glancing toward the hallway. “No way. I’m not ready for that kind of morning chaos.”

“Bedroom’s right down there.” he said, gesturing, voice gentler now. “Guest room. Lily’s still asleep. Just... stay there for now. Please?”

She nodded, hesitating for only a second before slipping down the hallway silently.

Mason let out a breath, ran a hand over his face, and made his way to the front door.

When he opened it, both Declan and Ben were there, coffees in hand, and identical expressions of smug suspicion.

“Well, someone’s glowing.” Ben looked him up and down.

“You told us to meet you at your old place and then didn’t answer for ten minutes. Thought you’d fallen back into a coma or something.” Declan gave Mason a look.

“I forgot what day it was.” Mason muttered, stepping aside as Ben followed Declan in, eyeing the living room suspiciously. “Also, it’s Sunday, who wears jeans to answer the door?”

Ben sniffed the air. “Is that... shampoo and rain?”

Mason rolled his eyes. “You're both exhausting.”

“Is someone here?” Declan asked, suddenly peeking into the kitchen like he expected to see a woman holding a pan. “You’re acting suspicious, mate.”

“Nope.” Mason said, too quickly. “Just me. I was—resting.”

“Resting on the couch with two mugs on the table and an extra blanket?” Ben cocked his head.

Mason groaned. “You know, I thought I missed this—your charming commentary. Turns out, I didn’t.”

Declan flopped onto the couch. “Mate, we’re just glad you’re coming back today. Three months without you giving us grief has been unbearable.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks for coming.” Mason grinned despite himself.

As the boys settled in, Adeline’s soft footsteps creaked down the hallway. She didn’t mean to be seen — probably just checking on Lily — but Ben caught the movement.

“Was that—?” He turned sharply toward the hallway.

Mason froze.

“No way.” Declan’s eyes went wide.

Adeline stepped into view, half-wrapped in the blanket she’d carried with her, trying to pretend she hadn’t just heard everything.

“Mounty.” Ben’s jaw dropped.

Mason sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Right, so this is happening.”

Adeline looked at Mason, cheeks pink, unsure whether to laugh or hide again. “Uh—morning.”

Ben practically jumped to his feet, looking between her and Mason like he’d just uncovered a government conspiracy. “Mount, you absolute rat! You said you were crashing here alone for the weekend!”

“I was.” Mason said flatly. “Then plans changed. And I forgot you two were showing up at the crack of dawn.”

Declan, far less surprised than Ben, just smirked from the armchair, giving Mason a pointed look. “I knew something was up when you told me not to come to your place.”

Ben turned toward Adeline, all grins now. “You could’ve warned us, you know. Dropped a hint. Sent up a flare.”

“Sorry. I left my flare gun at home.” Adeline tightened the blanket around her shoulders, eyes flicking to Mason with amusement.

“Tone it down before you scare her off.” Declan chuckled, shooting Ben a warning glance.

Ben held up his hands in mock surrender. “What? I’m thrilled! She’s lovely, I’ve said that for ages. I just didn’t know Mounty had the charm to actually get her to spend the night.”

“You’re gonna lose teeth today.” Mason muttered.

Declan rolled his eyes. “Ignore him, Adeline.” he said to her. “He’s like this with literally everyone.”

“Noted.” Adeline smiled faintly, her posture relaxing a bit.

Ben was already digging around Mason’s kitchen. “Anyone want tea? Coffee? Mimosas? No? Cool, I’ll help myself anyway.”

Mason walked over to Adeline, leaning in close enough that only she could hear. “You doing okay?”

She nodded, her smile a little shy. “Yeah. Just wasn’t planning on the audience.”

Mason grinned, brushing his fingers against hers briefly. “They’ll tire themselves out. Like puppies. Loud, chaotic puppies.”

Adeline laughed under her breath, and Mason looked at her like he was already memorizing the sound.

(...)

The smell of coffee and eggs filled the air not long after Ben raided Mason’s kitchen like a man on a mission. Somehow — against all odds — he’d managed to whip together scrambled eggs, toast, and even bacon without burning the place down. The four of them sat around the kitchen table, mugs in hand, plates full, and to Mason’s complete disbelief…

“This is actually good, mate.” Mason muttered, eyeing Ben suspiciously as he chewed another bite of toast.

“I contain multitudes, Mount. Maybe I’m secretly a domestic god.” Ben gave a smug shrug, sipping his coffee like a king.

Adeline laughed softly into her mug, and Ben grinned like he’d just won a trophy.

“Yeah, Dec. Laugh.” Ben said, pointing a fork at her. “But next time Mason burns toast, you’ll miss me.”

“You’re not coming back.” Mason snorted.

“Bold of you to assume I’m leaving, Mounty.”

Adeline was quiet at first — not distant, just a little unsure of how much space she could take up. But the warmth of the food, the way Ben and Declan bickered like an old married couple, and the way Mason kept brushing his knee gently against hers under the table slowly chipped away at her nerves.

She caught Declan watching her at one point — not judging, just observing. He offered her a kind smile. “All this a bit much?”

Adeline nodded, lips curling slightly. “Yeah. Just... not used to this many people in the morning.”

“You’re handling it well, though.” Declan said, before glaring at Ben. “Better than some.”

“I aim to disrupt, not disappoint.” Ben raised his toast in salute.

While the others chuckled, Mason quietly slid his hand beneath the table and rested it gently on Adeline’s thigh. She stiffened just for a second — then relaxed. His fingers traced soft, soothing circles above her knee, grounding her. She looked at him briefly, eyes meeting his with a soft smile she hadn’t even realized she was holding in.

Then, tiny footsteps padded across the floor.

Everyone turned as Lily shuffled in, hair wild with sleep, blanket bundled in her arms. She rubbed one eye with her fist and blinked at the scene like she wasn’t sure if she was dreaming or just very, very confused.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Adeline said softly, immediately opening her arms.

Lily walked over silently and climbed onto her mom’s lap, burying her face in her chest like she was trying to hide from the new faces.

“Oh no. Nope. You can’t just exist like that, it’s not fair.” Ben melted.

“Hi, Lily. I’m Declan. That idiot over there is Ben.” Declan leaned slightly forward, offering Lily a soft wave.

“Rude.” Ben put a hand on his chest, wounded.

Lily peeked up at them, her grip on Adeline’s shirt still tight.

“I’ve got a son.” Declan added, voice still soft. “His name’s Jude. He’s about your age. Bit obsessed with dinosaurs and peanut butter sandwiches. I think you two would get on.”

Lily didn’t answer, but she gave a tiny nod and ducked her head again.

“She’s not really a morning talker.” Adeline said with a small smile, smoothing her daughter’s hair.

“She’ll fit right in.” Mason said, leaning closer. “Neither’s Ben, but we still let him sit at the table.”

Ben threw a bit of toast at him.

Lily giggled.

It was the kind of moment Adeline hadn’t realized she missed. The kind of morning that felt like more than just breakfast — it felt like something building. Something solid. A maybe.

She looked down at Lily in her arms, and across at Mason — his hand still resting warmly on her leg — and for the first time in a long time, the ache in her chest didn’t feel heavy. It felt... like hope.

Ben was still gloating over how his scrambled eggs had gotten more praise than his footwork ever had, while Mason leaned back in his chair, one hand draped under the table, fingers resting lazily on Adeline’s leg. She hadn’t said anything about it, but she hadn’t moved either — and the quiet rhythm of his thumb brushing over her skin had become oddly comforting.

Lily sat curled in her lap, sleep still tugging at her eyes, blanket clutched in one small fist.

Declan took a sip of coffee and reached for another slice of toast. “Jude’s the same. Last week he tried to feed his fish chocolate cereal because he thought it ‘looked sad.’” His mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile too much.

“Is he your only one?” Adeline looked up from her coffee, her curiosity piqued.

“Yeah. Just Jude. Full-time hurricane, part-time genius.” Declan nodded.

“How old is he?” She smiled at that, brushing a crumb from Lily’s cheek.

“Four. Next month.” Declan replied. “Wants to be a footballer and a astronaut, depending on the day.”

“That’s a solid backup plan.” Adeline’s laugh came soft but real.

“He’s got it all figured out.” Declan said, warmth in his voice. “We split time between me and his mom. It’s a bit of a juggle, but… worth it.”

She watched him for a second — how casual but genuine he was. There was no discomfort, no awkwardness in the way he talked about co-parenting. It was just life.

“I didn’t grow up with much of that.” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else. “People making it work. I always thought if something fell apart, that was it. End of story.”

Mason’s hand gave a gentle squeeze to her leg under the table, a quiet grounding gesture that made her blink back to the moment.

Declan caught the shift in her tone, but didn’t pry. “Jude’s taught me more about being steady than I ever thought I needed. You don’t really get it until someone small’s watching you all the time, you know?”

“Yes. I know.” Adeline nodded slowly.

Lily stirred a little, lifting her head sleepily. Her curls were tangled, her eyes half-open as she looked around the table. She turned her head into her mom’s chest again, too shy to say anything.

Ben lowered his toast slightly. “Hey there, sleepyhead.”

Lily peeked at him but said nothing.

Declan, more gently, leaned forward a bit. "I bet you two would have fun drawing on walls together or something equally chaotic.”

That got the faintest smile from her — one of those shy, secretive little ones that made Mason’s chest feel full.

“She’s got a good poker face.” Ben muttered. “Kid’s gonna be terrifying when she’s fifteen.”

“You have no idea.” Adeline smirked as she kissed the top of Lily’s head.

Mason leaned in then, brushing a hand along her back, fingers slow and warm. “You’re doing great, you know.” he said quietly, only for her.

She glanced at him, cheeks tinged with pink — but her smile said she believed him.

(...)

Mason stood in front of the mirror, one hand smoothing down the hem of his Manchester United jersey — the number 7 bold against the red fabric. His fingers hesitated at the edge, brushing over the badge like it might anchor him somehow.

He was almost dressed, only his socks and trainers left to go. But his shoulders were tense, his jaw tight. His eyes kept flicking up to the mirror and then back down, like he was trying to will the nerves away.

A soft knock tapped against the doorframe.

“It's open.” he said, distracted.

“It’s just me.” Adeline’s voice came gently.

He turned as she stepped into the room, her hair still loose around her shoulders, one of his hoodies draped over her clothes. She looked sleepy and soft and entirely out of place next to his sharp kit and the weight of expectations he hadn’t felt in months — but also, somehow, exactly right.

She paused when she saw him standing there, half-dressed in full kit. Her eyes lingered just a little longer than necessary — on the jersey, yes, but also the way the fabric hugged his chest, the way the tattoos inked across his ribs and arm looked more like stories than designs.

“Sorry.” she said, blinking as if catching herself. “Didn’t mean to stare.”

“I don’t mind.” Mason gave her a lopsided grin, but it was strained.

Adeline took a few steps closer, noticing the silence stretching around him like static. She stopped beside him, looking at his reflection in the mirror.

“Nervous?” she asked, voice low, careful.

“A bit.” He didn’t lie.

“You’ve done this a hundred times.” She reached out, brushing her fingers along the hem of his sleeve.

“Not after something like this, though.” he muttered. “They’ll be watching. Wondering if I’ve still got it, or if I’m just… done.”

“So? Let them wonder. That’s not your job.” Her gaze found his in the mirror again, calm and steady.

“You always this good at motivational speeches?” He gave a quiet huff of air, almost a laugh.

She stepped in front of him now, her hands finding his waist — just resting there, grounding him. “I’m good at seeing through your crap.”

“Lucky me, then.” Mason tilted his head, letting his forehead drop against hers, the contact was soft, but intimate — something quieter than last night, but somehow just as important.

“You’re going to do fine, Mase.” she said softly, fingertips brushing the fabric of his jersey. “Better than fine. And even if you mess it up, I’m still gonna be here when you get back.”

Mason exhaled slowly, her words settling over the nerves curling in his chest. He looked down at her, searching her expression — not for reassurance, but for something steadier. Something that felt like home.

“You mean… here as in the flat?” he asked, his voice low. “Did you decide?”

Adeline blinked, caught for a second — not off guard, just... feeling the weight of what he was really asking.

“I think so, yes.” she said, a small smile playing on her lips. “It makes sense. Close to work, close to Lily’s daycare. And…”

“And?”

“You’re not far.” she said, not looking away. “Which is… nice.”

Mason’s hand found her hip again, warm and grounding. His thumb moved in slow circles, like he couldn’t help himself. “It’s more than nice.”

“You’re just saying that because I saw you shirtless five minutes ago.” Adeline tilted her head, her smile deepening.

He let out a breath of a laugh, brushing his nose lightly against hers. “You’d be surprised how often I’ve used that trick and it didn’t get me a real answer.”

“Bet it worked on most.”

“Yeah, maybe. But I wasn’t really asking anyone else to stay.” His grin turned softer.

Adeline’s heart fluttered at that. Not because it was grand or showy — but because it was real. Honest in a way that made her feel steady on the inside.

She leaned into him just a bit, pressing a quick kiss to his jaw. “Then I guess it’s a good thing I said yes.”

“You haven’t signed anything yet, Alderidge.” he teased, echoing her from the night before.

“No, but I’ve got good instincts, Mount.” she said, hand slipping down to lightly fix the hem of his jersey. “This one feels right.”

“So do you.” He took her hand, lacing their fingers.

For a moment, they just stood there, silent except for the low sounds of Lily and the boys in the living room — like a life quietly waiting outside the doorway.

“I should go.” Mason glanced at the clock.

Adeline nodded, even though her fingers didn’t loosen right away.

“You’ve got this, Mase.” she whispered. “Go remind them who you are.”

“I’ll be back after. You gonna be here?” Mason kissed her hand, lingering just a second longer than needed.

She smirked. “You just asked me that five minutes ago.”

“Yeah, well…” he leaned in close, brushing her temple with his lips. “Some answers I like hearing more than once.”

(...)

Adeline stood by the window of Mason’s flat, watching the gentle mist that blurred the skyline. She still couldn’t quite believe how things had shifted in just a few days. What started as an awkward stay during a storm had unraveled something much deeper — in her, in him, and in the quiet spaces they now shared. It was more than comfort. It was the first time in a long while she felt safe without being on edge. And for Lily, it already felt like home.

She turned from the window, crossing the room toward the living space where Lily was curled up on the floor, her coloring books spread out like tiny canvases. Adeline sat beside her, brushing back a lock of her daughter’s hair.

“Hi, bug.” she said softly. “Can I ask you something important?”

“What?” Lily glanced up, eyes bright.

“What would you think about staying here for a little while? Just until the apartment’s fixed.”

“Really?” Lily gasped.

Adeline nodded. “Really. Mason said it’s okay.”

“Do I get to sleep in the big cozy bed again?”

“Sure.” Adeline laughed. “And he said we can bring your toys and books. Make it feel like it’s ours for now.”

Lily’s smile stretched so wide it made Adeline’s chest ache. “Then yes! Yes, please! Do I get to see Mase more?”

“Probably.” Adeline’s cheeks warmed, but she nodded.

“Cool.” Lily grinned.

Later that morning, after Lily was happily settled in front of the TV, Adeline grabbed her phone and texted Mason.

Adeline: Hey, just talked to Lily about the flat. Heading to Stella’s to grab some stuff.

He responded almost immediately.

Mason: Hey, you. Just arrived at Old Trafford. Let me know if I can help with anything.

Adelie smiled, she wouldn't get used to this type of feeling easily.

(...)

When Adeline stepped into Stella’s apartment, she was instantly met with the familiar scent of vanilla and sandalwood — one of Stella’s favorite candles still burning faintly on the entryway shelf. The place was quiet, warm, a little cluttered. A couple of empty plates sat on the kitchen counter next to an open bottle of wine and two mismatched glasses, one with lipstick on the rim.

Lily wandered ahead with her tote of toys slung over her shoulder, immediately making her way toward the small rug in the living room. Adeline smiled softly, then turned at the sound of footsteps.

Stella appeared from the hallway, barefoot and still in a robe, her hair wild and cheeks flushed with sleep — or maybe something else.

“Well, well, look who finally decided to show her face.” she said with a grin. “You didn’t even text me last night, Ady. I thought you were coming back after dinner!”

“I was going to…” Adeline started, slipping off her shoes. “But things kind of… escalated.”

“Oh?” Stella’s eyebrows shot up.

“Lily’s occupied. You wanna sit?” Adeline dropped her bag by the door and leaned against the kitchen counter.

“Absolutely.” Stella grabbed the bottle of wine off the counter, still half-full, and poured a little more into her glass. “You’ve got the look of someone who needs to spill.”

Adeline exhaled, then followed her into the living room. They sat across from each other, Stella curling up like she always did, her expression equal parts amusement and curiosity.

“So?” she prompted. “What happened? I want everything.”

Adeline hesitated for half a second. Then the words just came.

“We kissed.”

“You what?” Stella blinked.

“It started slow. Then… not so slow.” She let out a laugh.

“How not-slow?” Her friend leaned in, wide-eyed.

Adeline covered her face with one hand, laughing softly. “Rough hands. On my waist. My thighs. His lap. My shirt was… halfway off.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“And then?”

Adeline dropped her hand. “I stopped it. It was too much. Lily on the room right next to us. But, then he was — he didn’t get mad, he didn’t push, he just… held me.”

“Okay. That’s hot. And sweet. And kind of perfect.” Stella’s face softened.

“It kind of was.” Adeline paused, watching Lily babble to herself, stacking tiny toy horses in a neat row. “He made me feel — safe. Not just in the moment. The whole night.”

“And?” Stella gave her a moment, then nudged.

“I’m borrowing his flat. Lily and I are gonna stay there for a bit until mine’s fixed.” Adeline met her eyes.

“Wow.” Stella let out a low whistle.

“I talked to Lily about it. She’s happy. She actually asked if it meant she gets to see Mason more often.”

“Well, she’s not wrong.” Stella’s grin grew.

“I just…” Adeline looked down, fingers twisting in her lap. “I’m not confused anymore. I want this. I’m just scared. Because it’s not just me. It’s Lily. And if she gets attached, if this goes wrong...”

Stella reached over and took her hand. “It’s okay to be scared, babes. But this doesn’t sound wrong. It sounds like something good. Something new. You deserve that. And so does she.”

Her chest still carried the flutter of nerves — but maybe, finally, she was ready to let something beautiful happen.

“Anyway.” Adeline said, finally exhaling, smiling despite herself. “That’s enough about me. Tell me about your date last night.”

“Oh God, Ady, the man was six-foot-four, had the jawline of a Greek statue, and wore cologne like he was in a bloody perfume commercial.” Stella lit up instantly, waving a dismissive hand.

Adeline laughed, relaxing into the chair as she sipped her tea.

“But...” Stella went on, grinning. “He used the word ‘synergy’. Twice. In bed. While trying to dirty talk.”

“No.” Adeline nearly choked on her tea.

“Oh, yes.” Stella nodded solemnly. “He looked me dead in the eye and said—and I quote—‘I think our bodies are syncing in perfect synergy.’”

“You’re lying.” Adeline’s laughter spilled out, real and effortless.

“I wish I was.” Stella leaned forward conspiratorially. “And then he asked if I’d ever considered investing in crypto. While he was—well, you get the picture.”

They both collapsed into laughter, even as Adeline shook her head. “You deserve a medal for surviving that.”

Stella grinned. “Well, the sex was decent, but the conversation? Brutal. He left at 3 a.m. and I ate leftover tiramisu in bed with a face mask on. Honestly, might’ve been the best part of the night.”

Adeline leaned her head on her hand, smiling warmly. “You’re the most unapologetically chaotic person I know.”

“And proud of it.” Stella gave her a wink.

Just then, Adeline’s phone buzzed against the table.

She barely glanced at it at first — distracted, still riding the lightness of the conversation — but then her eyes landed on the screen.

She froze.

Stella didn’t notice right away, still reaching for another biscuit, chatting on. “Oh, and I forgot to tell you, I spilled wine on his—”

Adeline’s fingers slowly curled around the phone, face paling just a bit.

“Hey…” Stella paused. “What's wrong, babes?”

Adeline swallowed. Her voice was soft when she spoke. “It’s a number from Surrey.”

That was all she had to say.

Stella sat straighter, her expression shifting.

Adeline didn’t answer the call. The screen dimmed. Then it buzzed again — a second call, same number.

She let it go.

Her tea sat untouched.

“I haven’t heard from anyone there in four years.” Adeline murmured, eyes still fixed on the now-dark phone screen.

“Maybe it’s nothing, Ady.” Stella reached across the table, placing her hand over Adeline’s gently.

The soft, lingering tension between laughter and unease settled like mist in the room. Neither of them spoke. Not yet. But they both knew:

The past had just knocked on her door.

And it didn’t matter how far she’d run — it had found her anyway.

(...)

The moment his boots hit the grass, something in his chest tightened.

It was the familiar scent — turf and sweat, mixed with crisp morning air — but it felt foreign now. Distant. Like he was trying to remember an old version of himself.

Carrington hadn’t changed. The fields were still pristine, marked with clean white lines. The echo of shouts and laughter in the distance. The distant sound of photographers already pointed in his direction — unmistakable. Mason didn’t look. He didn’t need to. He’d played enough to know when the lens was aimed at him.

He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a breath that fogged in the cold.

“You made it.” Bruno Fernandes jogged up beside him, a half-grin on his face, clapping a hand against his back. “Thought you’d be hiding until summer.”

Mason smirked. “Still might. If my knee gives out again, I’m blaming you.”

“You’ll be fine.” Bruno laughed, motioning for him to follow toward the warmup cones.

“Cheers, mate.” Mason said, glancing around. He caught sight of Garnacho doing tricks with a ball like it was glued to his foot, and Maguire stretching with a grimace nearby.

“Oi, Mount.” Maguire called. “Back from the dead?”

“Barely.” Mason called back, rolling his eyes. “Don’t make me chase you. I’ll tear something again.”

They laughed, but Mason’s heart was still beating too fast. Not from nerves exactly — though that too — but from the pressure. The unspoken weight.

He could hear the cameras again.

They’d post the pictures. The fans would talk. Comment. Speculate.

Was he back too soon? Was he worth the money? Was he done?

He bent down, laced his boots tighter, and stood up again.

But something inside him didn’t crack like it usually did.

He felt… steadier.

Images of the morning flickered through his mind.

Adeline’s voice. Her hand on his chest.

Her saying she’d be there when he got back. That damn blanket wrapped around Adeline’s shoulders as she laughed at something Ben said.

He wasn’t just walking back onto the pitch for himself anymore.

“Mount, everything alright?” Garnacho called.

“Yeah.” Mason jogged over, joining them in a light passing drill. The ball came to him fast — he trapped it, sent it on, footwork sharp despite the months away.

“Still got it.” Bruno gave him a look.

“Don’t sound so surprised.” Mason muttered, but he couldn’t stop the smile tugging at his mouth.

He moved through the drills, sweat starting to bead at the base of his neck, joints groaning but holding steady. The pitch started to feel more familiar again, like it remembered him too. Like he belonged.

And through it all — under the tension, under the noise — that calm from earlier remained.

Adeline.

He wasn’t foolish enough to call it love. Not, yet.

And even with the pressure, the photographers, the aching muscles and the question marks hanging over his future... For the first time in months, he's okay.

(...)

The whistle blew, signaling a water break. Mason jogged toward the benches, his breath steady but his heart racing a little more than he liked. It wasn’t the physical strain — it was the pressure. The eyes. The clicking of lenses. Always watching.

He grabbed a water bottle, unscrewing the cap with slightly shaky fingers. But, he wasn’t alone for long.

“Mason.” A female voice, crisp and practiced, cut through the murmur of the pitch.

He glanced sideways. A woman in her mid-thirties stood just off the touchline. Sharp blazer, notebook in hand, her media pass flashing in the sunlight. He recognized her vaguely — not tabloids, but not exactly subtle either.

“Yeah?” He gave a curt nod.

“First day back, and already half the fanbase’s got your name trending.” She smiled, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Mind a quick word for The Daily Mail?”

“If it’s quick.” Mason took a sip of water.

“Sure.” She flipped open her notebook. “So — how’s the knee? Any lingering pain? You moved well out there, but is it more show than truth?”

“It’s solid. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.” He blinked.

She hummed, jotting something. “And mentally? You’ve been off for months. Not everyone bounces back from that. Some say it messes with your head more than your legs.”

“I’m not here to prove anything, I’m here to play.” Mason’s jaw flexed slightly.

She tilted her head. “Funny. Because some people also noticed you’ve been looking... different lately. Happier. Settled. New distractions, maybe?”

That struck a nerve. He didn’t show it — not exactly — but his eyes cooled, and his posture stiffened just enough.

“If you’re done.” he said calmly. “I’ve got training to finish.”

“Just doing my job.” She smiled again, thin and unreadable.

“And I’m doing mine.” Mason replied simply, and turned without waiting for another word.

The clicks of lenses followed him back toward the center of the pitch — but his thoughts were far from them now.

He turned back toward the group before the journalist could find out something deeper.

Bruno caught up beside him again, tossing him a knowing glance.

“What was that about?”

“Headline Hunters. Standard.” Mason said, though he still felt the weight of the question.

“Thought you handled it well, mate.” Bruno replied, tapping his fist against Mason’s shoulder.

Mason gave a low laugh, more to himself than anyone else.

He wasn’t sure what the headlines would say tomorrow.

But he knew what mattered — and right now, it wasn’t printed in black and white.

It was warm hands, sleepy voices, the scent of coffee in a kitchen that didn’t used to be his, and the feeling of walking out the door with someone waiting behind.

(...)

The moment Adeline stepped into the lobby, Lily hopping beside her with her backpack bouncing, the doorman gave a polite nod.

“Good afternoon, Miss Alderidge. There’s a package for your unit.”

Adeline blinked. “A package?”

He motioned behind the desk and handed her a sleek white box, neatly tied with a black satin ribbon. It was heavier than she expected. There was no label, no logo — just her name, handwritten in firm, neat script.

“Thank you...” she murmured, cradling the box as they rode the elevator up.

Lily was too busy recounting the story of a glitter-related disaster at school to pay attention, but Adeline couldn’t stop eyeing the box.

Mason hadn’t mentioned anything.

She opened the flat door, let Lily dash inside, and gently set the package on the kitchen counter. She hesitated — then pulled the ribbon loose and flipped the lid.

Her breath caught.

The pink dress. The one she’d tried on the night before at the boutique. The one she couldn’t afford, even if she stretched her budget for three months straight. It shimmered even in the soft kitchen light.

Tucked between the folds of the fabric was a small envelope, cream-colored and sealed with a little smudge of black ink.

She opened it — and inside was a card with Mason’s handwriting.

"You couldn't get it. So I did. Alderidge, you deserve to feel exactly like what you are: unforgettable." — M

Adeline stood in the middle of Mason’s flat, the soft light from the windows washing over the pink silk fabric nestled inside the box.

She blinked. Once. Twice.

Then looked again — as if the dress might suddenly vanish and reveal itself as part of her imagination. But no, it was still there. The same dusty pink gown she’d tried on the night before, the one she’d twirled in, laughed in, loved in... and left behind because the price was absolutely ridiculous.

Her fingers trembled as she lifted the card tied to the black ribbon. She read the note again, out loud this time, because maybe hearing it would help her believe it.

“Mason.” she whispered, as if he might appear out of thin air and explain himself. “I'm going to kill him.” she muttered, then paused. “But like... hug him first. And then kill him.”

The dress was beautiful. Extremely beautiful. And expensive. He bought it.

For her.

She set the card down carefully on the counter, still holding the edge of the fabric between her fingers. The silk pooled like liquid in her palm, soft and lush and more elegant than anything she’d ever owned in her entire life.

(...)

Mason pushed open the door to the flat, balancing his bag on one shoulder as he stepped inside. The familiar scent of Adeline’s shampoo lingered faintly in the air, mixing with something warm and a little floral. It was quiet, softer than usual, and for a second he thought no one was home.

But then he noticed a few new things.

A cozy pink throw folded neatly over the back of the couch. A small basket of Lily’s books tucked beside the TV stand. A mug — definitely not his — left by the sink, with little crescent moons on it. Adeline’s handwriting on a sticky note near the fridge.

She’d brought things.

Not just things — hers. Little bits of her and Lily, settling in, without needing to ask.

His chest tightened.

He set his bag down gently and made his way through the flat, glancing down the hall toward the bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, and a soft light spilled out onto the hardwood floor.

Pushing it open, Mason stepped inside.

Lily was curled up under the duvet, her thumb loosely tucked near her mouth, blanket half-draped over her shoulder. The television played quietly in the background, muted cartoons flickering on the screen. And Adeline — Adeline wasn’t asleep.

She was sitting on the edge of the bed, knees tucked up, wearing a grey t-shirt. Her eyes met his the moment he stepped in, something unreadable but warm flickering behind them.

“Hey.” he whispered.

She didn’t answer at first. Just walked slowly, padding across the room without a word, her gaze locked on his.

And then — in one smooth, impulsive move — she was in his arms, legs wrapped tightly around his waist as she hugged him with a kind of quiet urgency. Mason caught her instinctively, hands resting under her thighs to hold her steady, breath caught somewhere in his throat.

“Well, hello.” he murmured, chuckling softly into her hair.

“You bought me the dress, Mase.” she said against his neck, voice muffled, almost accusing — but not really.

“I did.” he replied, kissing the top of her head. “You were too busy talking yourself out of it.”

“You absolute sneak.” She pulled back just enough to look at him, eyes shining. “You went behind my back and bought me a dress that costs more than my rent.”

“I wouldn’t say behind your back, exactly.” he teased. “More like… tactically over your shoulder.”

Her lips quirked. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And, you’re welcome.”

She laughed then — quietly, breathlessly — resting her forehead against his. “I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” Mason said softly, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Just wear it. Look like the vision you are, and let me sit here knowing you’ll be the most unforgettable person in the room.”

Adeline’s heart flipped, her fingers curling into the collar of his hoodie.

She wanted to say something clever. Tease him, maybe. But all that came out was a soft, quiet: “Thank you.”

He nodded once, serious now. “Anytime.”

And for a while, they didn’t move, wrapped up in that quiet moment between them, held in place by soft light and slower breaths.

(...)

Monday mornings weren’t usually gentle, but this one carried a different kind of weight.

Adeline woke up slowly to the soft sound of the city beyond the window, sunlight filtering through the curtains. The flat still didn’t feel entirely hers — not with the way his scent lingered in the air, with his trophies and books quietly claiming corners of the space. But after a week of living there, she’d grown comfortable in a way that scared her. Everything felt too easy. Too safe.

Lily was already awake, sitting cross-legged on the rug in the living room with her cereal, watching cartoons while the morning news played in the background on mute. They got ready together — Adeline brushing Lily’s curls, tying the laces of her tiny shoes, pressing a kiss to her forehead before dropping her off at daycare with a tight hug.

By the time Adeline stepped into the hospital, the day was already in full swing. Her shift was packed, as always — a steady rhythm of patients, notes, questions, and quiet moments of recovery. Mason’s physiotherapy sessions were once a week now, which meant she hadn’t seen him since the weekend. A week since that kiss. Since that moment in the living room when it felt like the world briefly stopped spinning.

They hadn’t defined anything — no labels, no promises — but there was an undercurrent now. A softness between them. A safety she wasn’t used to feeling.

She liked it. But, she didn’t know what it meant.

Mid-morning, she was walking through one of the quieter corridors of the hospital, chart tucked under her arm, when she turned a corner and nearly collided with a tall figure.

“God. Sorry, Adeline.” Elliot said, steadying her with a hand. “Didn’t mean to ambush you.”

She laughed lightly, stepping back. “No ambush. I’m just moving too fast, as usual.”

“You’re always moving fast.” He smiled, boyish and kind as ever. “I was actually hoping I’d bump into you.”

“Oh. Really?”

“The fundraising event this weekend. You’re going, right?”

“Sure, I was planning on it.” Adeline hesitated.

“Great. I figured we could go together — I mean, not together together. Just, you know, a familiar face. If you wanted.”

It was harmless. Elliot had always been warm and respectful, if a little awkward. She didn’t see any issue in going with him. Just a ride, a colleague. A way to avoid showing up alone.

But before she could answer, her phone buzzed in the pocket of her scrubs.

She gave Elliot a quick apologetic glance. “Sorry, just one second.”

She pulled it out, her eyes locking onto the screen.

Stella: Okay don’t freak out but a friend of mine just sent me this. Apparently it’s making the rounds on some pages. Don’t hate me for saying it, but you actually look kinda cute.

There's a link attached and a lot of... photos.

Adeline’s brows pulled together as she tapped it. The screen brightened with a low-resolution photo: her, reusable tote bags over her arms, Lily skipping beside her in her pink sneakers. They were mid-laugh, clearly caught off-guard by the lense. The entrance to Mason’s building stood in the background, too familiar now to ignore.

She scrolled down. Another photo.

Mason, stepping out of his car a few hours later. He hadn’t even looked at the photographer, but someone had definitely spotted him.

And now, it was out there.

Adeline stared at the images, her brain skipping over the usual panic in favor of stunned quiet. It wasn’t like they were doing anything scandalous. Just walking. Existing. But there was something strange about being seen like that. Out of context. No control.

She let out a slow breath, rubbing her thumb across the screen before slipping the phone back into her pocket.

“Adeline. It's nothing.” she told herself under her breath, as if her body needed convincing. This wasn’t the end of the world. It wasn’t even shocking, not really.

She knew who Mason was. She knew his life came with attention — fans, photographers, gossips. She just hadn’t expected to be part of it so soon.

Or at all.

And, yet, here she was.

She texted Stella back almost immediately.

Adeline: Not freaking out. Just… weird seeing it, you know?”

Then, she tucked her phone away again, saying a quick goodbye to Elliot and headed toward her next consult.

It wasn’t a scandal. It wasn’t even a headline.

But, it was enough to remind her: she wasn’t invisible anymore.

And... neither was Lily.

(...)

[telepaethy]

HE'S NOT JUST A MUTANT - HE IS A GOD.

an independent portrayal of 𝑫𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑫 𝑯𝑨𝑳𝑳𝑬𝑹 from 𝗙𝗫'𝗦 𝗟𝗘𝗚𝗜𝗢𝗡. mostly 𝐿 𝐸 𝐺 𝐼 𝑂 𝑁 based with comic and MCU influences. mun is over the age of 21 and due to the content of the show & character, 21+ is required to interact. dark and mature themes will be present, such as violence, drugs, and mental illness. viewer discretion is advised. written & loved by Shane.

[starry-bi-sky]

how do you clone a fey? that's trick question; and fey love those!

@the-navistar-carol (<333) brought up a good point while I was talking about my changeling danny au with her -- Dani! How would she exist in this au? Danny's a changeling - a fae. How would Dani, a clone of him, be created? How do you make a fey? Not through any means that Vlad is doing; you can't make a fey through unnatural means, considering the Fair Folk are nature. And Vlad's not a fey himself -- he's a halfa, even if he could make a fey, it's not in his best interest too. He's a powerful ghost, but even the weakest fae can overpower the strongest ghost. He won't want a clone of Daniel to be more powerful than him.

(In a three tier hierarchy it goes Ancients -> Fae/Mythos -> Ghosts. They all live in the Infinite Realms, but on different Planes. The fae live above the Ghost Zone in the Fey Wild, while the Mythos live beside the Wilds or down in the ghost zone depending on where they are. Places like the Frozone, the Athens Acropolis, and other such large islands climb throughout all three Planes.)

(While Ghosts can travel into the Fey Wild, its generally advised against as the ectoplasm tends to manifest differently there due to close contact magic. It can make it rather disorientating for a ghost, and as human spirits, the Fae living there would jump them faster than they could blink. So unless you're willing to play mind games with 'steal thy name eat thy face' fae, most ghosts keep out of the way of the Wilds. Fey can travel down into the Ghost Zone, they just don't bother.)

That's of course, not taking into account if Vlad even knows Danny's a fae himself. Vlad doesn't ring me as someone who really cares much about ghost culture or the going ons of the GZ. He might be aware that fae exist, but the moment he realizes he can't use them for personal gain he just doesn't bother with them. The risk is greater than the reward, and he'd rather not get eaten. But lets assume he's aware by now that Danny is fey, and has to take that into account while cloning him.

So, how does Dani exist? Good question! Honestly; i'm not sure. She might not exist at all, or if she does, she's more halfa than fey. Vlad would need a lot of human dna and ectoplasm to balance out all that fae magic. He manages to steal DNA from Jack and Maddie to do it, and since Jack's fey ancestry is very dormant its much easier to use alongside Danny's DNA.

In turn, it results in a little girl whose more human-ghost hybrid than clone. With that little extra boost in fey magic making her not a fey, but still relatively powerful. Dani is less of a clone and more of a lab-grown little sister. It's a rather tedious, complex process that has Vlad tearing his hair out trying to figure out. But he does eventually figure it out.

[starflungwaddledee]

Bandee and Starstruck 🎀💖

starting off my february starstruck dee ship-a-ganza with the big one. they do seem like... the obvious answer, huh...?

they have far and away the most development together and the strongest personal relationship, both in what i've posted, and in her story overall! would kill or die for each other in a heartbeat. i would be absolutely lying if i said i'd never thought about it, but i'm not 100% convinced my thoughts lead me to romance specifically...

they're already pretty insane about each other! starstruck in particular is madly in love with bandee in every way it's possible to be. loves him the way he loves kirby, i think (pretty sure he does not know this. might be shocked to learn it.)

however she's daft as bricks, so he'd have to initiate, and i can't really imagine anything in their relationship would change.... so he'd have to mostly want The Title or the Performance one way or another, and i'm not super sure he would!

[unproduciblesmackdown]

imagine...

...that some things have changed (including some marigold ventures?) and Atlas May is like uh oh both lackadaisy & i are doomed, but if i set up my own death maybe only i'll be doomed and lackadaisy might have to shutter but perhaps more so on involved people's terms, such as mitzi being fine financially, but also if she thinks it's her fault that'll be good for maintaining my posthumous Image to her, perhaps she did some defrauding again? and i'll have mordecai, my trusted & effective gunman, be the one to fatally shoot me, & of course he doesn't want to, but it's Mere Work Ethic time, what's he gonna do besides argue at all maybe, ultimately refuse? (no) and he may hate it but he's not going to want to fully turn on mitzi or anything after because then what would have been the point

[wolfpawed]

the woods have remembered you ever since the first time you got lost in them.

an independent original character. written by Shane.

[cuteniaarts]

Mirror, mirror, on the wall...

Who's the fairest of them all?

[alchemiclee]

I really hate when people say this. if I dont record, I cant "enjoy it in the moment" because I dissociate out of my damn mind and then have no memory of it! recording helps ground me and keep me focused in the moment! let me do what I need to in order to enjoy things you soggy potato 😭

plus, as a photographer/aspiring videographer who hasn't had the luck to become friends with bands and work with them, IM DOING A THING I ENJOY AS WELL, SO SHUT UP LMAO. I enjoy doing video and photos MORE than standing in a crowded, overwhelming room watching people do stuff on a stage. THATS LIYERALLY ME LIVING IN THE MOMENT DOING A THING I ENJOY!!!!! WHY IS THAT WRONG?!

[enjoyvoidblack]

Was midway through typing out a defense of Jon's decisions in light of how everyone (including Jonny) seems to think he could've done much better, but then I remembered he walked up to Jude Perry's front door and knocked and yknow what post cancelled actually. For that alone this man is an idiot (affectionate)

[nobodybetterlookatme]

Are you ok? What happened?

Yeah I'm chilling lmao we just had a patient presenting with a condition I'd never seen in person and it didn't end well for them unfortunately

[janliko]

what. you know what yeah I am wondering

[mildmayfoxe]

ok so the current stats at work are that after about three weeks of being in the hospital my boss's mom died. this is why i've been putting off quitting bc truly awful thing to have happened to anybody. really really horrible. however my favorite coworker put in her notice last week because she got a new job and i just got a text from another coworker that they're putting in their notice today. everyone is fucking dropping like flies. thats half of the core warehouse crew gone since our staff is so fucking small. i was thinking of putting in my notice on friday because i've GOTTA escape but my boss's mom's funeral is tomorrow. UHHH?????

[todayisafridaynight]

me when i ship zhaohan 😔 there's next to no content unless i'm just not looking in the right spots

be the change you want to see in the world my man.... if i can trick people into thinking masadai is real then i know you can rally the troupes with them lovable goobers......

[unproduciblesmackdown]

omgg lol [guy who won't stop going "more like scapeGOATED" voice] now hold! on!! lmao [same guy just saw encanto voice] Hold on!!!

[phantatrix]

With ao3 down, part of me wonders if I should start crossposting my fics?? I guess it wouldn't hurt since I generally cross-post my art on different sites. Something for me to think about tonight