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adonis-koo · 11 months ago

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sweet nothing • 9

| in which he patiently waits one day at a time|

↳ Description: being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself.

His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.

Pairing: Jungkook/reader, ???/reader

↳ Genre: slice of life AU, mafia!AU, pregnancy, there’s like…a little bit of a plot but not a lot, future smut? maybe? it's very domestic!

Word count: 2.9k

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Note: no matter how many scenes i write, they're all sad and i'm kinda sorry bc i said this fic wasn't going to have much plot but it somehow has a lot of plot now??? and its kinda sad??? HERE YOU GUYS GO THO

The commotion going on in the estate wasn’t difficult to tell, men had been actively walking more than their usual rotations required and Jungkook knew this was a sign you were causing some sort of chaos as you seemed to do every day now.

And upon following the trail it led him just a door down from your own room, items being moved and you were currently pouting as you sighed.

“Do tell me what your idea is for this little renovation project.” Jungkook hummed, leaning against the door, not actually annoyed at how much you always move things around in his estate in fact…Dare he say he felt a little endeared.

And Jungkook found himself falling into old habits, habit he found himself missing, such as being able to take the time to admire you, all thoughts of work fading from his head at the sight of your dress, just past your knees and a faded checker blue, flowing sleeves that went to your elbows for room and of course the ever growing bump.

Your hands were set around it seemingly pouting over something before his words drew you out of your thoughts, “Jungkook, I didn’t realize you were home so early.”

“I have a meeting I have to attend in person later,” Jungkook replied, “You didn’t answer my question.”

There it was again, that small pout he hadn’t realized he missed so much until it dawned your lips once more, “Well…” You seemed a bit hesitant before you spoke, “I gave it some thought- what we talked about a few days ago, about a nursery and I figured you were right. It’s better we be prepared for it then not.”

Jungkook was relieved to hear this because while he was trying his hardest to get something on Wonho, there was a smaller, more selfish part of him that enjoyed this, enjoying having you at his estate.

An even smaller part of him not wanting it to end so soon, he had to let go of you once and no it wasn’t fair, but even there was even the slightest chance…well, he didn’t want to let it slip through his fingers and have to let you go once again.

Jungkook only nodded, “So what's with the look then?”

“Well,” You gave him a sheepish smile, “I had all of this stuff moved out and realized I have nothing to actually put in here…”

Jungkook couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him as he pushed off the frame stepping into the room, “Hm, that’s a strange way to ask for money.”

“Jungkook I wasn’t-”

“I’m teasing relax,” Jungkook cut you off, your lips tugging even poutier, you had always been like this, since day one in fact, always worried he’d think you were using him for money, always trying to deter him from paying even if you didn’t have the means to actually afford it yourself.

It was sweet, “But you’re also in no position to not accept it and I have more than enough money to afford it- it’s a win win.”

You stared at his outstretched hand, black shiny amex in his hand, “I don’t feel right just using it.”

Jungkook sighed wistfully, “You didn’t seem to feel too guilty helping your brother with rates and statistics for drug sales.”

Your lips parted somewhat in surprise, “That was different…!”

“You’re right,” There it was that stupid teasing, charming smile of his, “It was probably worse.”

You knew he was only teasing, but something about it made you feel gross still, you had a reason you were in that room, a reason that is long gone from you now, “Well it doesn’t matter anymore does it?”

Jungkook paused at the sight of your expression dimming as you continued looking out the open window as your hand absently rubbed your bump, “I haven’t done that for a long time now…”

“Y/n I didn’t mean-”

“I know,” You cut him off softly looking back at him and there was an unmistakable look of regret in his eyes, not wanting to cross any lines with you but you were afraid they already had, “I just…I guess I just have some regrets about getting involved….I never wanted to hurt anyone,” You whispered out, “I had a reason I was there and it had nothing to do with the money...For myself at least.”

Jungkook frowned, there were still so many things he didn’t know about you, your time together having been cut short when you both had first met, “What other reason could there be?”

It was an indirect question, rather than a rhetorical one, you knew what he was asking.

You hesitated, but then again, you supposed it didn’t matter now, it was all in the past, no matter how dull it made your heart ache.

“Well…” You let out a soft sigh, “I’m sure you remember I wasn’t exactly financially stable, and for me that was fine. It was enough,” You nodded to yourself in thought, “It wasn’t much, but it was enough.”

“Until…?”

“I received a phone call,” You mumbled, recalling the event, “A foster agency, telling me that they did a DNA test on one of their cases and it came out as a match on me and my brother. Just a week old, dropped off right outside the police station.”

You had to bite down on your tongue, you had thought you were over it, but it still stung just as raw, “Since we were her only blood family I was given the opportunity to adopt her…” You let out a sigh trying to keep it together, “Except I was too poor, I didn’t even come close to having a qualifying salary to show that I could be responsible for her and take care of her…”

“What about Wonho?” Jungkook cocked his head to the side, baffled at this information.

You let out a loud scoff, bitterness that you had tried so hard to let go of coming back up as you shook your head, “Wonho didn’t give a shit, told me that it wasn’t our problem but I struck a deal with him, if I helped him up until his annual evaluation with you for his first year of work, he’d help me get the expenses that were required to foster her.”

Jungkook’s brows furrowed as he shook his head, “And?”

There it was, that little niggle in your head that was angry about it all, angry at Wonho, angry at yourself, especially at Jungkook, “Well all of it fell apart. Very quickly, one thing after the other. I mean obviously you dropped off the face of the planet for months so Wonho wasn’t making money- I got let go of my job because of the murder- everything went void.”

Jungkook looked away with a long inhale as if he had been mentally prepared for the moment you’d finally cave and say it, but it wasn’t as if you were wrong, you were simply stating a fact, he completely ghosted you and civilization as everyone knew it and just like that, he had left your life as quick as he entered.

It was difficult to not be angry about it when he was the one that convinced you that the very thing you were afraid of wouldn’t happen, just for a few short months later, let it happen. And you were sure he had his reasons, you were certain of it, but it didn’t change the fact that he left you with little to no explanation and just like that, never bothered to come back, didn’t even so much as send a letter, a proper apology, nothing.

“I’ve…” Jungkook’s eyes squinted on the ground, “I’ve been meaning to talk to you, about what happened.”

You shook your head, “Jungkook, it’s been two years,” Your voice softened, his eyes glancing up to meet yours and once again you felt the dull ache that never went away, “I shouldn’t of brought it up, I’m sorry…it’s in the past now, life went on.”

“Well it didn’t for me.” Jungkook let out a small breath and you could hear a hint of bitterness in his voice.

Your lips quivered a little, “Do you have any right to say that?”

“Probably not,” When did he get this close to you, “But it doesn’t change how I feel.”

Old feelings were like a dam bursting inside you and you began to shake your head, “I’m not ready to talk about this Jungkook- can’t we just keep pretending like nothing happened?”

Jungkook shook his head, “We’ve both tried this and neither of us are good at it Y/n, I can’t, not when I have a second chance.”

You raised your brows, “No! No this is…” You took an immediate step back, “This is not what this is Jungkook, what happened is over. I’m only staying here because Wonho has a target on his back and you were kind enough to keep me out of the crossfire.”

“Maybe that’s how it started out,” Jungkook replied just as quick, taking another step closer to you, “Look…I know it’s not fair,” He frowned, as if he hated saying it, “I had every intention to stay out of your life, it wasn’t fair to drag you along back then and that’s why I didn’t, but…You’re here now, right in front of me. So yes…I do see it as a second chance, and if there’s any way I can make it right, I will.”

You groaned, “It’s not just making it right anymore!” You wanted to scream! “I have baggage now Jungkook!” Your eyes threatened to water as your hands dropped from your stomach, “A lot of it. It’s not just me anymore I’m getting ready to have a baby, you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“I know exactly what I’m asking for.” Jungkook sharply replied, eyes brewing with anger, “And what I’m asking for is you, all of you.”

“You had your chance and you left me, plain and simple, you left. I don’t understand why now…Out of all the time, two years later, now…!?” You hadn’t meant to raise your voice, but you were angry, perplexed, scared.

Scared just the way you were when he was upfront the first time in that stupid bakery you wanted nothing more then to pretend like didn’t happen, you wanted to pretend like you never got drunk at that stupid bar, that he wasn’t late that day, that he didn’t sat down and offer to pay for your meal for making you wait.

You wanted to pretend like he had actually listened for once when you declined him asking you out, that he didn’t visit you every morning at work, and more then anything you wanted to pretend like you had a stronger will, that you didn’t let him convince, your mind was flooding with so many memories of him.

His hand trailing down your thigh while drunk in the back of his car, his eyes when he saw the bust in your lip, his smile when your fingers intertwined with his, his skin etched into yours for the first time, ushered sweet nothings that he’d love you forever.

But at the time you didn’t realize that forever would only be a short three months then just like that, it was over, and oftentimes you were left many sleepless nights wondering, was it even love? Everything had happened so fast, it felt like forever.

But two years later, standing in front of him you realized it had been two agonizingly long years since you saw him in person.

“I made a choice,” Jungkook defended himself, “I stuck to that choice…I was leaving you alone, even if I didn’t want to and then…” He ran a hand through his hair, revealing his face in full detail his eyes baffled as if trying to understand himself, “Suddenly one night you’re dropped in the middle of my office. I didn’t have any pretenses, I was just being nice letting you stay here, I had fond memories of our time together, I didn’t want to let you get caught in the crossfire- it was the least I could do after everything.”

You crossed your arms as he continued, “And then…I don’t know,” He muttered, “I look at you, I see your smile, I see you standing here pouting and trying to do it all yourself, like you always tried to do. And suddenly it’s two years ago and we’re both drunk sitting at the bar talking about what it would be like to be in love. And I feel the exact same way I did back then, looking at you and wondering if maybe I had finally found it.”

You felt physically sick, it was like he was intentionally wanting to break your heart all over again, “You sent them to raid my home, you can’t tell me this wasn’t planned…”

“I didn’t expect them to fuckin’ kidnap you Y/n!” Jungkook let out a hurt laugh, running his hand through his hair, “In fact I gave them direct instruction to do the shakedown while you were at work and to not destroy your apartment- you were supposed to be at work!”

“Well I wasn’t!” You shouted back, “I wasn’t feeling well and my coworker offered to cover! You can’t do this to me! You can’t, not after all this time…” You voice died down, “You can’t just…open all of this back up as a second chance because you’re feeling nostalgic over a fling-”

“You were never a fling to me-”

“That’s how I felt after you left-” You suddenly winced, hand immediately pressing to your stomach, instinctual almost despite the pain coming from your chest, Jungkook’s eyes immediately widening and he had closed the small gap between you both.

“Let’s get you sat down…” Jungkook murmured and you couldn’t help but stare at his hand, big and calloused, multiple rings just the way you remembered, pressed against your bump and a wave of intense sadness thrummed in your heart, what you’d give to go back and change everything.

You were too tired to fight his touch, and a smaller part of you crying– begging inside your mind to just give in, to put your worries aside and roll the dice again, maybe he’d actually keep his promise this time.

But you refrained from leaning against him too much as he sat you down on the bed in your room, phone immediately in hand as he called Doctor Choi, after hanging up the air was thick with a silence and tension.

Jungkook sighed as he sat on the edge of the bed, “...If you don’t wanna talk about it, we won’t. I don’t want you going into preterm…But…I want you to know I didn’t make that decision because I wanted to, and I didn’t do it easily either.”

You self soothed, rubbing your tummy as your eyes closed, “I know you didn’t. At least that's what I told myself the last few years, that surely there was a really good reason…And you wanna know the worst part Jungkook?” You whispered, sad eyes as you opened them to look at him, “I waited…I waited every day, sat at that stupid register hoping you’d come, even after Wonho stopped talking to me I went to the Red Light anyways, hoped maybe you’d be there. There wasn’t a day I didn’t check my phone only to be disappointed by your name not being on the screen…”

It was silent again before you tried to hold back your tears, “You broke my heart. Right in two, promised you wouldn’t leave me, and then you did. And now you’re asking me for another chance?”

You said you wouldn’t cry, but here you were softly weeping in your bed, feeling like a child once again, helpless and wondering why no matter how hard you tried, nobody ever stayed, you had thought he was different, but it turned out he was just like the rest.

Jungkook’s hands cupped your cheeks, thumbing the tears away as he pressed his forehead down to yours, “For what it’s worth, I am sorry,” He murmured, “I’m just as much a sinner as anyone else, I’m ill-tempered and cruel, I’ve killed a lot more people then you could ever imagine, but most of all Y/n, I’m selfish, I’m not really a good man. But I could be good, for you.”

“You don’t know how bad I really want to believe you,” You whispered out, “But I had so long to think about it, to look back and realize I know nothing about you. It was my own fault really, you’re not a good man and I knew that back then, just like I know it right now.”

“I know I hurt you,” Jungkook had a sort of determination in his eye, the kind that you knew was unwavering, he meant every word he was saying, “But there hasn’t been a day I wished it could be different. I’ll do whatever is necessary to earn your trust again.”

You pressed your lips together for a long moment, “I’m not saying it isn’t possible, but you have a long way to go if you really want it.”

Jungkook’s long slim finger traced down your jawline, “I’ll take it one day at a time, just like the first time.”

#bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #mafia bts #mafia jungkook #jungkook imagine #bts au

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heartmaddie · 13 days ago

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parfum d'étoiles | k.akaashi

chapter fourteen; just like a woman * includes written content

her hands were cold.

keiji’s slender fingers wrapped easily around hers, providing an overwhelming warmth.

“how far away is it?” her voice was slurred. she gazed at him softly as he led her outside his apartment and towards the stairs.

“not too far,” he replied, “stay close to me, you’re wobbling.” his arm slithered around her waist and pulled her close, watching each drunken step she took carefully. keiji wondered if she’d ever looked at anyone else the way she does with him, with gentle, vulnerable eyes. she let her body relax in his arms trustingly, in only a way decades could support.

her lips graced him with a smile, and he felt the blood rush to his cheeks unmeasurably quickly. keiji watched in awe when she sat under the moonlight, luminescent making her skin seem almost pearlescent. to him, she was nothing less than ethereal.

he let her lean against his chest, staring up at the stars together in silence.

“what are you thinking about?” her voice was soft, comforting.

“nothing, it’s not important.” keiji smiled down at her, fingers gently brushing reddened cheeks as he sighed. “what’s up with you and shimizu?”

“we argued, nothing out of the ordinary,” her fingers intertwined with each other. “she’s just being annoying.” keiji knew her better than anyone, with that inconsolable expression, he could tell it was more than she was willing to let on.

“what was it about?” he asked, eyes trained on hers as she wistfully beheld the stars.

“she’s being annoying about rintarou,” yn rolled her eyes, sighing deeply. “it just pisses me off how she acts so authoritative in my life.”

“i think she just cares about you, she doesn’t want you to get hurt.”

“you don’t need to defend her, i know she’s right.”

keiji nodded, shifting her body to lay against his more comfortably.

“do you love him?”

“shimizu’s a girl.”

“no, i mean suna.”

she blinked, eyebrows furrowing together in thought.

she knows the answer, she really does, but something is holding her back.

keiji looked at her the way he used to, with his hair covering his eyes and all she wanted to do was brush them away. you’re disgusting - is what she thinks about herself when all she can imagine is the afternoons shared in their youth. gentle touches adorning supple cheeks, no regard for the consequences in the future.

it’s the way her heart still warms up whenever she sees him, the hope which is born from the callouses on his fingers. it’s different to the way she feels with rintarou, he feels more stagnant, more temporary. but this, this was something else, something which lingered right from the years of her childhood.

“yeah, i love him,” she replied simply, words not recognising what she yearned to admit. “it’s hard though, relationships are hard.”

“why?” keiji prodded, leaning his head down to be level with her. “is it meant to be hard?”

“i don’t know.” she shrugged, “it’s what i’m used to.”

she lifted the green bottle encapsulated in clenched hands and brought it to her lips for a quick swig, he watched as a droplet of alcohol fell from plump red down to concrete.

“like, when i’m with him, everything just feels a bit more real,” she hums, pausing between words.

“in a good way, or a bad way?” he knew he was being pushy, but he couldn’t help himself.

“i couldn’t tell you,” she chuckled, eyes crinkling as she smiled. “i think he wants me to be a bit more dependent on him.” she paused, “but i just need that time for myself right now.”

“sounds stressful.”

“it is a little bit, but it’s worth it for him.”

‘is it really?’ is what he wanted to ask, but he stayed quiet.

words have gone unspoken between them for almost their whole lives. when they were younger, it was more that they didn’t know how to verbalise their thoughts, but now, decades later it was more deliberate. too scared to ruin their once again blossoming relationship, too scared to let it be more.

they stayed under the moonlight for what felt like hours, conversing through secret glances and sips from the same bottle.

“yn?” an unfamiliar voice from behind them caught their attention, “we’re leaving now.”

she nodded, sighing as she wrapped her arms around keiji for the last time.

“happy birthday, we’ll catch up again soon?” keiji nodded, tightening his arms around her before letting go.

he watched as she left him alone, approaching tooru who casually slung his arm around her shoulder, pulling her close.

keiji groaned once she disappeared from his sight, rubbing his chest harshly in an attempt to quench it's ache.

please consider liking , reblogging or following if you enjoyed send an ask or reply to the masterlist if you’d like to be on the taglist :p

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(45/50)

#🎐parfum d'étoiles #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #hq x reader #hq x you #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu smau #hq #haikyuu texts #akaashi x you #akaashi keiji x reader smau #akaashi x reader #hq akaashi #haikyuu akaashi #akaashi keiji #akaashi keiji x reader #akaashi smau

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haikyu-mp4 · 5 months ago

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Hi :) I know it was your example so I'm so sorry if you wanted something more creative, but I'd really love to listen to Back For You with Oikawa please. As soon as I heard the song it made me think about reuniting with him after he's been away, I'm sorry if you don't want to write it. Thank you and have a nice day <3

Now playing... Back For You

word count; 570 – gn!reader, for my 1D x Haikyu event

“I’m not scared,” Oikawa said, in a defensive tone that suggested you claimed he was. You hadn’t said that, but perhaps he heard the voice at the back of your head pondering how to make him feel better about moving away tomorrow.

“You’re very brave then,” you answered softly, running your fingers through the side of his hair. At first, he leaned away so you wouldn’t mess up his hair, but then he returned so you’d caress his cheek instead. As he leaned into your touch, you stroked his cheek with your thumb. “I would be scared.”

His eyes slowly moved up until they met yours, and you pulled your hand back to intertwine your fingers with his instead. The crickets played their song outside the open door that led out into the garden, the sound carried inside by the cold evening air. You sat on the sofa, legs resting over his lap as his free hand drew patterns on your skin.

“Argentina is so far away,” you whispered wistfully as if he wasn’t still in your grasp for another 20 hours. You glanced at the clock, only 19 now.

He lifted your hands to kiss the back of yours, then the top of your bare ring finger. You’re young, foolishly in love and silently begging for him to promise you something he probably shouldn’t.

You want him to promise he’ll be back. Not just because his family and friends are here, but because he wants to come back for you.

“You’ll be busy with university, probably won’t even remember me in a few months,” he said, mixing in a chuckle as if that could deceive you.

“It’s been a long time since I had a day that wasn’t plagued with thoughts of you. Sounds peaceful,” you tease him, happy to see him break into his dramatics with an offended look.

“That was almost so romantic, and then you just had to ruin it.” And yet he drew invisible hearts above your knee while he pouted.

“Do you know when you’ll be back?” you asked, eyes following Tooru’s finger on your skin.

Tooru’s heart begged him to tell you about all the great universities in Argentina, but his brain knew asking you to give up your life here was absurd, just for a high school sweetheart. So then his heart beat louder, asking you instead. Asking you to suggest it yourself. To say you could both make a new life for yourselves as long as you were together.

“Not exactly.” His mouth didn’t listen to his heart, even with the strain it put on his throat. “Will you visit me?”

“Hopefully!” you said, straightening up your back to lean your face closer to his. “But you will come back?”

“Of course.” He leaned in too, lips pressing against yours like a feathery touch. “Maybe not long term, but… as long as the people I love are here.” His hand squeezed yours.

“Maybe there’s a chance of taking a year abroad with my degree,” you suggested slowly, jumping slightly at how his eyes widened.

When your Tooru looked at you, you could swear there were stars in his eyes.

Perhaps it was a reckless thing to indulge in, this love plagued by an uncertain future, but that’s what you do when you’re young. You grow and you learn and you love, and you come back for those who mean the most.

a/n: I love it when someone requests my example!! although, I went a bit of a different route than reuniting, hope that's okay<3

masterlist

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thirdtidemouse · 1 year ago

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YOU. IM GOING TO GET YOU.😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭i hope you dont mind i showed my friends this comment because it actually made my day... you and the others on hildablr leave the most lovely supportive tags all the time it makes me smile each and every time but holy moly what a treat to open my notifications to😭

it honestly means so much coming from someone of so much talent like your writing is genuinely phenomenal and your fics have been one sucker punch of awesome after another this week.. i havent yet got round to reblogging all of everyone's posts because i want to spend the time to properly comment on each one but it has been the highlight of the past 6 days seeing them pop up😁😆

im so glad you picked up on all that stuff!! i had so much fun breathing in a bit of life with the colours and ofc i had to include vicky and ol eddie who show up a joyful amount in your writing and by god i have to catch up on fireflies over the wall because i dont think iv properly said yet but those two melt my heart you have such a knack for these characters 😢😢😢meiri is the sweetest heart of all

i'm not joking when i say in the ideal future where i keep doing illustration as a career i will remember your comments for ever and ever. making art for myself or for school is great but sharing it with like 5 people online is so inspiring and fun and it motivates me so much to know people actually for real like what i'm doing not just for a grade etc 😭

@sketchbookweek DAY 4 - SECRETS

another late one im so sorry but IT TOOK ALL DAY OK!!! here is a comic for you about johanna and kaisa and growing up a lesbian. they are 14 here in the middle of a pe lesson

i normally prefer sketchbook having just met as adults (fully grown up and still dorky losers) but given they both presumably grew up in trolberg (and depending on kaisa's age) its not unlikely they at least knew each other

im learning to be more experimental and try more sequential stuff... i'm specialising soon in illustration and the tutor showed me some really inspiring student work im enjoying drawing a lot rn *smiley face*

the actual hilda comics are a major inspiration for me i love luke pearsons panels and pacing and everything its so fun to read

i know this is a big one but still it might look rushed bc i have work in the morning (xmas is round the corner and i work in a supermarket god help me...) but wanted to get this one out... i'm still a day behind but there is more in the oven.. peace and love :P

#ignore me while I howl at the moon wistfully #soz for the melodrama but if i actually ever (ever) in like my ideal life did like a real comic or book or something i would put a thank yo #thats like my future career goal for now i think #i dont rly post my academic art on tumblr but maybe i should do it on my main like just bc its fun #anyway sorry for going on and on and on but thank you this meant so much

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princessmisery666 · 10 months ago

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Just Say You Love Me

Summary: Dean is trying to embrace his emotions and look to the future. Part 3 of 3. Part 2 - The Right Guy On Paper.

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: fluff, mentions of cheating.

W/C: 4,901.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Mentioned: Jody Mills.

Pairing: Dean x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Square Filled: ”Would you please, shut up, I’m trying to confess my love for you.”

A/N: Obviously this was supposed to posted on a certain day (you'll get what I mean when you read) but it just wasn't where I wanted it to be at the time so I waited. Two-ish weeks later ain't bad though.

Graphics: made by be on canva. Dividers by @talesmaniac89

Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

Pulling off the highway, Dean grumbles, “This is stupid,” to himself again. Yet, he had called Jody to make sure you weren’t working, made the two-hour drive, and hadn't veered off route to the nearest bar.

It’s been a few weeks since he saw you at Jody’s cabin. You’ve spoken on the phone a few times and met him halfway to Kentucky to give him a lore book Claire had borrowed. But no in-depth conversations have been had, which he’s okay with because one, it’s a conversation to be had in person and not while he is neck deep in a case, and B, he doesn’t know what to say or how to tell you what he wants because he’s still not sure himself.

So, in the safe confines of Baby, he asks himself again why is he driving to your house on Unattached Drifter Christmas or ‘Valentine’s Day’ for the schmucks?

Before he can do a little soul-searching and find the answer, his cell phone rings.

“Hey Sam, what’s up?” he answers.

“Why are you in Sioux Falls? Something wrong?”

“Everything’s fine. Wait, how do you know where I am?”

“You were way too vague about where you were going. You always have a plan for today,” Sam explains, “figured you were up to no good and better keep an eye on you in case you get into trouble like last time.”

“Last time was almost five years ago, and for the hundredth time, I didn’t know she was married,” Dean snarks.

“Plus, you didn’t turn off your GPS,” Sam says as if he hadn’t heard Dean’s argument. “So why are you in Sioux Falls on Unattached Drifter Christmas?”

He falters for a second, thinking of an excuse, and before his pause becomes suspicious, he blurts, “There’s a new bar opened up. Wanna try it out.”

“This bar called Y/N’s, by any chance?”

“What? No!”

Sam laughs, and that all-knowing chuckle reminds Dean that Sam is onto him and there’s no point in denying anything. “It’s a good thing, Dean,” his brother assures him. “You may not have told her outright, but she’s smart. She’ll recognize you showing up today, of all days, is your way of telling her you want…” Dean waits, hoping that Sam will impart the answer that eludes him, but huffs in defeat when his brother adds, “Whatever it is you want.”

“This is stupid,” Dean grumbles, “I’m being stupid.”

“No, it's not,” Sam scolds. “I’m sure today will be tough for her. So, just being there for her is a good thing. It doesn’t have to be deep conversations. Showing up and supporting her is enough.”

Dean considers that Sam is probably right, but it doesn’t make him feel any less insecure. “Maybe.”

“Have fun,” Sam says before hanging up.

Five minutes from his final destination, his phone chimes, alerting him to a text message.

Jody: She’s at Lucky Shots, fifth wheeling it.

“Dammit, Sam!” he snarls, but he’s not really mad, saves him a trip to her empty house.

The break at Jody’s cabin was revitalizing, and the feeling has stuck for the few weeks you’ve been back in your routine. It probably helps that you removed every trace of Luke from your life the moment you got home. The confrontation with Dean was cathartic, too. You’ve analyzed what he’d said about not wanting you to meet someone new and that he missed you, and asked Jody for her opinion, too. She’d wistfully smiled as if aware of something you weren’t, “Maybe you gave up on him too quickly.”

You didn’t want to admit that Jody was probably right. Yet you had made assumptions, choosing to believe that he didn’t want anything serious, and after admitting to yourself that you wanted something more, you had decided to go out and find it somewhere else.

That realization turned out to be at the forefront of your mind today. You're thankful to your friends, Laura and Sara, for the invitation and for not allowing you to stay home and eat your emotions. Being the fifth wheel isn’t the issue. It doesn’t bother you, even on Valentine’s Day. They chose a lowkey, casual games bar, not some romantic, candlelit restaurant, and for that, you are eternally grateful. The issue is Luke is there. It could be worse. He could be with her, but fortunately, he’s with two of his buddies.

The bar has darts, beer pong, pool, skee ball, knock down a clown, and a few other amusements. You're locked into a tight game of girls versus boys beer pong - the beer having been replaced with tequila shots - and you can feel Luke’s every glance as if he’s waiting for an opportunity to approach.

It’s the last thing you want, and your friends were kind enough to offer to leave when he arrived, but you stubbornly refused. You had no reason to leave. He should be filled with so much shame and regret that he can’t bear to face you, but he has the audacity to look like a wounded puppy, and that makes you angry.

The game is down to the wire, and the final ball is down to Chris and Dylan, your friends' partners. Dylan massages Chris’ shoulders, “Come on, buddy, you got this. For the win!”

You all hold your breath as Chris releases the ball, and the boys celebrate the victory with loud cheers as it lands in the cup, having barely touched the sides. You, Laura, and Sara shoot another round of tequila. The sourness of the lemon you suck on adds to the disapproving look you catch Luke throwing your way.

Asshole. How dare he judge you!

“I demand a rematch!” Laura declares.

You agree. “My turn to buy the drinks.”

Sara escorts you to the bar. Though she masks it as helping you carry the drinks back to the table, you know she’s doing it to protect you from an unwanted visitor.

“I need the bathroom, but I’ll meet you back here,” Sara tells you, “if he comes over before I make it back, stomp on his foot and poke him in the eye.”

You laugh, really belly laugh, because she’s totally serious, and it’s also hilarious to think he’d have the balls to actually approach you.

“Who’re we looking out for, honey?” the elderly woman beside you asks, lips pursed and looking sassy.

Sara tells her, “Other end of the bar, tall white guy, blond hair.”

“Green shirt?” she asks for confirmation.

“That’s the one.”

“Uh-huh,” she tuts, “I know the type, handsome as an angel, spirit of the devil. You go on to the bathroom. I’ve got your friend until you get back.”

You don’t doubt the lady’s confidence. You wouldn’t mess with her.

“Thank you, Miss…”

“Call me Beverly,” she introduces, and Sara shakes her hand before skittering off to the bathroom.

You wait your turn to be served, listening to your protector tell you all about her first husband, “the devil incarnate.”

If only she knew.

You face forward, not even side-glancing in Luke’s direction, not wanting to give him any inclination you may want to talk. You don’t. Beverly turns and rests her back against the bar to see the whole room without looking over her shoulder.

“Oh, sweetie,” your new friend says, “there’s another one of those handsome-as-an-angel men walking this way, and I think he’s looking for you.”

You still don’t turn, but look up into the mirror behind the bar and see him. Dean maneuvering around people and tables, coming straight toward you.

Unintentionally, you gasp, a sheepish smile creeping in as you lock eyes with him in the mirror.

“From that reaction, I don’t think you need help with this one,” Beverly says, sweetly taking a step to the left to make room for Dean.

“Hey,” he says, a half smile making him look a little awkward.

“Hey,” you say as he leans in to kiss your cheek, and when he’s close, you whisper, “Everything okay?”

He pulls back, nodding with a slight frown as if the question was offensive or something. “Yeah, everything is fine, just passing through and wanted to say hi.”

“Passing through?” you ask, suspicion clear in your tone.

His frown deepens, clearly trying to sell the lie, pretending to be confused by the suspicion.

You smirk. “Just happen to be passing through on Unattached Drifter Christmas?”

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “How much do you and Sam talk?”

“A lot,” you confess, “emails, phone calls, memes, and then there’s the weekly newsletter.”

“Busted.” He laughs, and it shakes off whatever anxiety he was feeling.

The bartender comes over and takes your order. You add on whatever Beverly is drinking for the rest of the night, which reminds you Sara has been gone a while. You turn around to look for her, and Dean looks over his shoulder. Sara’s back at the table. All of them are staring at you but quickly and comically turn around as if they weren’t when Dean finds them.

“Sorry,” you chuckle, “they’re just looking out for me cause Deputy Dick is here.”

“Shit,” he grumbles. “Is me being here going to be a problem?”

“Probably, but that's his problem.”

Dean laughs, and you really have missed it. The easy relationship you had seems to be a thing of the past, but you want it back. Maybe not the sex because you’ve realized that's where the problem lies. You want more from him than you'll ever get, but at least the friendship could be mended.

“But don’t waste your Christmas on me, Dean,” you say. It's subtle but enough to tell him that hooking up is off the table.

That disgruntled frown appears again, and he looks genuinely offended. “I’m not here ‘cause I think I’m gonna get laid.” He explains, shrugging. “Running into you isn’t a coincidence. I was on my way to your place because I didn’t want you to be alone tonight. Jody told me where you were.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to take from that?”

“Take it for what it is,” Dean suggests. “I’m trying.”

You can work with that. Trying to be friends sounds like just what you need. No pressure or expectations from either side, so you quickly squash the thought that it means something deeper that he’s choosing to spend time with you instead of finding a warm body to lie with.

“Okay.” You smile, trying to look as sweet as possible. “Well, can part of that trying be helping us win at beer pong?”

“Girls versus boys?”

“Obviously.”

He scoffs, “Absolutely not! And you get an extra shot for asking me to rig a sacred game.” He hands you a shot off the tray of drinks, and you knock it back.

He watches you, grinning the whole time, and you shake your head as if it will shake away the taste. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

“Don’t try and soften me up, Winchester,” you warn, “I’m not gonna take it easy on you.”

He shrugs, “Was worth a shot,” and walks away with the tray of drinks.

Chris and Dylan merrily call his name as he approaches, and you follow, smiling fondly.

“Now the odds are even. Prepare to go down, ladies,” Dean says, taking off his jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbow.

The games continued; the boys won at Beer Pong, but the girls won two rounds of darts. Once Chris and Dylan had gushed over the Impala, you said your goodbyes in the parking lot. Each of your friends hugged you. Dean got a kiss on the cheek from the ladies, and the guys gave him a firm handshake before pulling each other into a one-armed hug. It looked natural and easy, and you love how well Dean slots into the group.

You realize you’re staring as he drives, and he glances over when he feels your eyes on him. “Are we still social distancing or something?” he jokes, reaching a hand over to tug on your leg, requesting you get closer.

You oblige, sliding over the leather seat, and he slips an arm behind your shoulders to rest on the seat back. “Thank you for that,” you say, kissing his cheek.

“For what?” he asks.

“Pretending like you couldn’t hit that bullseye with your eyes closed.”

“Well, I’m supposed to be a mechanic, right? Not sure a mechanic would have perfect marksmanship.”

“If you’re not sold on the mechanic thing, you can always tell them you’ve changed your profession,” you suggest, and with a teasing wink, add, “but they all already know you’re good with your hands.”

“Would you, for once, get your mind out of the gutter?” Dean jests, “I already told you, no sex for you.”

“Sorry, Mr Winchester, sir,” you joke, “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

He laughs but looks out at the road. His fingers lightly brush your neck. You aren’t sure he realizes he’s doing it. When you were sleeping together, it became a thing - absentmindedly, he’d lightly stroke your skin while watching a movie or falling asleep. It's familiar and comforting, and you lay your head on his shoulder the rest of the ride home.

Dean follows you up your path, and while you search your bag for your keys, you notice him looking to the left, eyes squinting, trying to see something too far away.

“Wanna come in?” you ask, distracting him from whatever has caught his attention.

“It’s not a good idea,” he says, giving you his full focus, “I meant what I said, Y/N. I didn’t show up cause I was expecting to get laid.”

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t considered throwing caution to the wind and jumping into old habits. And you're surprised by Dean’s rejection. He could have followed your lead and taken you to bed without any objections.

“Presumptuous much?” you counter, smirking.

He smiles, all charm and smug joy, because he knows he’s right. “Don’t try and pretend you weren’t thinking about it.” He steps closer, crowding your space and gripping your hips to pull you against him. “You’ve been flirting with me all night.”

“I can stop,” you threaten, but it falls flat as you wrap your arms around his neck.

He grins, “No, you can’t,” against your lips, kissing you before you can claim otherwise.

The kiss is not hesitant; it’s deep and long, but you feel him holding back. His hands don’t roam, remaining wrapped around your waist, but he takes his time, savoring the shared warmth, each brush of your tongues, every breath shared.

Dean is the first to pull back. “I gotta go,” he swiftly kisses you again. “I told Jody I’d be there before midnight.”

“Gonna turn into a pumpkin, Winchester?”

He laughs, pecking your lips again, but then his features soften, something close to pleading, “I’m trying,” he grumbles, but you're not sure if it's to remind you or himself.

He doesn’t say exactly what it is that he’s trying, but you know he means he’s trying to do things the right way, and that’s enough. “You're doing great,” you assure.

He kisses you harder, tongue sweeping over your bottom lip, and you let him in. He walks you backward until your back hits your door, and he groans when he presses himself into you. “Nope,” he scolds himself, pulling back and comically jogging away down the path, but while you're still laughing at him, he turns back. “Can I take you to breakfast tomorrow?”

You smile, and it widens to a knowing grin. You spare him the OMG shock when the realization hits you, but you do ask, “Are we dating?”

“Only if you say yes?”

“Pick me up at ten.”

He winks, unable to contain the boyish grin, and just as he opens his mouth to say something, a siren blasts, and a sheriff’s car pulls up to Baby’s bumper.

You walk a few feet to stand beside Dean as Travis, the rookie, and Luke, in plain clothes, step out of the vehicle.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Dean says.

Luke and Travis stand beside each other on the sidewalk but don’t approach you.

“Ten out of ten for dramatic flair,” you snark, clapping once.

“But should have done it while I was kissing her,” Dean adds, “would have been way more dramatic.”

“I think you meant douchier,” you suggest with a confused frown.

“You’re right,” Dean clicks his fingers as if you're right on the money, “I meant douchier.”

“Funny,” Luke says. “Travis, this man has been driving under the influence. Please breathalyze him.”

You put a hand on Dean’s arm to keep him in place should he decide Luke deserves another punch to the face. After all, he’s not in uniform. Travis is wise enough not to move. You're his boss. Luke has seniority over him but not over you.

“Really?” Dean sneers. “That's all you got?”

“Go home, Luke,” you tell him, “you’re making a fool of yourself.”

“So what if I am,” he says, “I just wanna talk.”

“We’ve talked,” you remind him. “You talked, I listened to your piss poor excuses, and it changed nothing.”

“We were going to get married.”

You raise your voice, “That was a reaction to your cheating! You only asked me because you felt guilty, and I only said yes because…” you cut yourself off, but Dean looks at you, knowing what you had been about to say.

“We were good together,” Luke says, seemingly oblivious to the silent conversation that passed between you and Dean. “He’s just a,” Luke sneers at Dean. “What did you call it? A situationship.”

Dean tenses under your grip, and you know the comment had the intended effect. You’ll have to address it later.

Clenching his jaw, he briefly looks away before leveling a glare and taunting, “Dude, have some dignity. She’s already told you it’s over.” He practically growls his next words. “So leave.”

Luke ignores Dean, looking directly at you. “You're angry, I get it. But don’t make any rash decisions, please.” he implores.

“I was angry,” you agree, “I was furious, but now I’m indifferent. You were a rash decision, Luke, and I’m not saying that to be cruel or get back at you. It’s the truth.”

Saying those words aloud drives home your previous thoughts of why you started dating Luke. Getting engaged was a reaction to your feelings of rejection from Dean’s honesty about commitment. You release a breath as Luke’s face drops, finally seeming to understand.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

He shakes his head, blasting out a breath filled with disbelief. “We were never going to work out,” Luke realizes aloud, “you were too hung up on him.”

“Travis, I’m sorry you were dragged into this,” you sigh, “but please take Luke home.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Luke stares for a second longer, but chooses not to say anything further, allowing Travis to usher him into the car.

Dean doesn’t move, watching the car disappear from view at the end of the street. Your heart pounds in your chest; you’ve just gotten to a good place, and now that might have all been unraveled.

Though you suspect not a lot of it is surprising to Dean. The day you told him about Luke, he’d begged you not to tell him you loved him and he was right for the assumption that you did - or do or might. You can not say it even reject the idea if anyone suggests it, but you can’t deny it to yourself. You sought out Luke to replace the emotions you felt weren’t reciprocated by Dean.

“Maybe I should take you to breakfast,” you suggest, with a nervous chuckle, “to make up for that. I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, giving you a small smile. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he assures you, but he’s looking you over like he’s trying to read the emotions behind the words. “You okay?”

Quickly, you reply, “Yeah, of course.”

“You sure? You look like a bit of ‘deer caught in headlights’.”

“I’m okay,” you sigh, taking a deep breath. “Just a little worried that's undone all the progress we’ve made.”

“It hasn’t,” he tells you, slipping a hand on your hip and pulling you into him. “This situationship can handle an ex-situationship.”

You grimace, “I’m sorry.”

He laughs, nonplussed, “Don’t be. I’ve been called worse.”

He silences your next apology with a deep kiss and slowly, seemingly reluctantly, pulls back. “I’ll pick you up at ten for breakfast.”

You're rambling again. Since Valentine’s Day, it’s been happening a lot. Dean knows why you're doing it. He can see it in your expression every time you catch yourself and stutter over the words, changing it to something else and hoping he doesn’t notice.

The first time it happened, a few weeks ago, Dean thought he misheard you. You were both breathing heavily, your thighs pressed against his ears, holding him in place, writhing while you rode his tongue. He watched your face as much as he could, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your body twitched, and your climax coated his tongue and wet the sheets, “I love yo…when you do that.”

Three days ago, after a double date with Sara and Dylan, Dean woke you up in bed with coffee and French toast. Still in the haze of sleep, you smiled contentedly, and it almost slipped out. “I love…” you coughed to cut yourself off, correcting it as you sat up, “I love French toast.” But he could see it in eyes, the adoration tainted with the fear of saying it aloud.

‘I love you’ is on the tip of your tongue, and it almost escaped a moment ago.

A car accident had kept you late at work, so the dinner reservations had to be canceled, but Dean wouldn’t let it ruin the night. He’d ordered pizza, knowing you’d be starving when you got home, run a bubble bath (with the ulterior motive of joining you), popped open a bottle of your favorite wine - he hated it, thought it tasted like vinegar - and was waiting in the middle of the living room for you with the glass in hand.

Taking the glass from him, you lazily kissed him. He could feel how tired you were. Listlessly, you mumbled, “Oh god, I love yo…” but had stifled it so quickly that the rim of the glass clinked against your teeth.

Clearly unable to think of an alternative, you began rambling about your day while unnecessarily blitzing around the already clean kitchen with a dishcloth.

He wants you to say it. He figured out how he felt about you when it finally sunk in after you’d told him you’d met someone else. It was more than physical, and it always had been. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have hurt so damn much when you told him about Luke.

He hasn’t said the words to you, but you have to know that’s how he feels. He told you he’s trying. Although, there haven’t been any conversations about exactly what that entails. He’s been more communicative. He’s made future plans - okay, only a week or so ahead at any given time, but that tells you all you need to know, right?

But the way you keep avoiding the phrase sets off a little ripple in his heart. Maybe you don’t know. Maybe you’re afraid he’ll hightail it out the door like last time if you say it aloud. Maybe he needs to expand his communication skills. He says your name softly, but you either don’t hear him or pretend not to, afraid of what comes after.

“I should get you a key cut,” you blabber in. “Save you having to pick the lock next time I’m not home. Don’t want the neighbors calling it in. Mrs Brooks next door is always twitching her curtains.”

He tries again, “Y/N,” louder this time.

“I need to put a load of laundry in,” you say, striding into the laundry room.

“I did it already,” he calls after you.

“I’ll put it in the dryer then.”

He follows, trapping you inside the smaller space so you have no choice but to turn and face him.

“The laundry is done and folded in the basket in your room.” he continues, speaking to your back. “The kitchen is clean. Pizza is on the way. The bath should still be hot.”

You finally look up at him, and there’s that apprehensive smile again, but your eyes are aglow with the words you chew your lip to suppress.

“Just say it,” he sighs, trying to hide his smile.

“Say what?”

He steps closer, crowding your space and using a gentle touch to tilt your head up to keep your eyes on his. “You know what.” He smirks, teasing, “You can’t bite your tongue forever. So just say you love me.”

“I wasn’t biting…” you stammer, “I never…I only meant I was going to get a key cut for you. I didn’t mean anything….”

“Would you please, shut up?” He silences your rambling with a hard kiss, grabbing your hips and hoisting you to sit on top of the dryer. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you sigh placidly, but he pulls back and grins, “I’m trying to confess my love for you.”

You drop your gaze, avoiding eye contact. “Please don’t.”

He notes your avoidance of looking at him, and panic sets in that maybe he’s got it wrong, again. But he hopes he’s right, so he chuckles, “giving me a taste of my own medicine.”

You shake your head, “No. I don’t need to hear it, and you don’t have to say it ‘cause you think it's what I want to hear.”

“That’s not what…” he tries, but you raise your voice to speak over him.

“Dean, please!” you wait for him to close his mouth. “I like how things are now, and I don’t want to jinx it or have to watch your ass run for the door again.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, “it will be different this time.”

“We’ve been through this already. I don’t want promises, and we don’t need to open old wounds.”

“I get why you’re…”

The doorbell interrupts him, and you use the excuse to push him aside as you jump down and scurry out of the room.

He leans against the doorframe facing into the kitchen and listens to you thank the delivery guy. You must have given a generous tip because he thanks you multiple times as you say goodbye to him.

The click of the door closing echoes, and he waits for you to appear, but you don’t. He imagines you standing in the hallway, trying to calm yourself.

He waits, counting the seconds in his head with the promise that he’ll go find you if he reaches thirty.

At fifteen, you enter, eyes glued to the floor, pizza balanced like a cocktail waitress. “I’m gonna go take that bath,” you tell him. “Hopefully, it's still warm.”

You’re assuming the conversation is over. Only it isn’t. At least, not for him. He hasn’t been working up to it. He’s never had a grand plan for the first time he says it, but now he knows he needs to say it so you understand and believe him.

Silently, he watches you put a few slices of pizza on a plate - so he presumes he’s not invited to the bubble bath. The stopper gives an audible pop when you pull it from the wine bottle, like an exclamation point on his thoughts.

He clears his throat and proclaims, “I love you.”

The only indication that you heard him is your frozen state, bottle tipped, ready to pour into your glass.

“It took me too long to figure that out, but I do. And saying it or not saying it out loud isn’t going to change a damn thing.”

You continue to pour the wine into your glass but don’t turn to face him, recorking the bottle and resting against the countertop.

You haven’t run away, so he continues, “I always knew we were good together, but now I see that we have a whole future of being good together, not just the here and now.”

Hesitantly, he stalks closer to you, watching you take a large gulp of the red liquid. You must hear his approach because you turn around but jump slightly at his proximity.

“I’m ready to move forward,” he confesses, “and I want to do it with you.”

“Are you done?” you ask, finally looking up at him with a teasing but joyful smirk under a shy gaze. “You’re on a roll there. I just want to be sure before I say anything.”

He laughs but shakes his head once, “Nope.” He takes the glass from your hand and puts it beside the bottle. “One more thing,” he leans in closer, tilting your chin up, lips whispering over yours, “I love you.”

You chase his lips as he pulls back, “C’mon, you know you want to,” he teases, making no attempt to hide his smugness. He’s got you right where he wants you. “Just say you love me.”

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meanderingsofmistria · 4 months ago

Text

Dance for Joy

Caldarus x gn! farmer

Word count: 902

Warnings: not proofread and honestly kinda rushed, but I was listening to some dance music and felt inspiration. Enjoy!

(I cannot wait for the day that I can smooch the dragon. Lemme plssss give the dragon a smooch)

“Dance for me. Please.”

These words would have been jarring to hear no matter who it came from, but the word ‘jarring’ took on a whole new meaning when this phrase was spoken by Caldarus of all people. Or, well, creatures?

“Why…” The farmer asks, their confused gaze falling upon the regal statue, an impressive carving standing tall and proud.

“The people of Mistria are joyous people-”

“Even…”

“Yes. Even March. Even he finds joy in this life. Though I, like many, cannot see it. I can feel it, though. Deep within me, I can feel when he is prideful, when he fashions a blade just to his liking. I can feel Lady Adeline’s desperation when her thoughts are about Mistria’s future and fate. I can feel Holt’s excitement as he thinks of a new joke to share. I can feel the joy of the people as they dance around each other at the seasonal festivals, and how their excitement and merriment are shared with each other as they enjoy themselves. And…I can feel your desire to join them, to dance alongside them. I can feel that, and I can see how you hesitate. I see and feel, yes, but I cannot understand.”

The farmer remained silent, taking in the new information. They considered Caldarus their friends at this point. Their daily banter and amicable exchanges have slowly made them forget his true heritage. They heard his stories daily, grinned as he recalled some of his past, but at this moment they truly remembered that he was a dragon.

“I enjoy dancing, I do. But I don’t enjoy it when others watch me dance. I feel out of place and I get embarrassed, so even if I work up the courage to dance with them, I don’t think I would feel happy doing it.”

The Guardian of Mistria grew silent. His words were often so expressive that one could easily overlook the fact that he didn’t have the ability to show any expressions on his stone face.

“Farmer, tell me. Would you find joy in dancing if I were to avert my gaze. I wish only for your joy, for you to dance freely.”

“Why?”

Again, the farmer is met with a brief silence.

“I feel the joy of the inhabitants of Mistria. I feel their content and their happiness. I revel in their joy and laughter…though I find myself yearning to feel yours as well.”

This time the Guardian is met with silence from the farmer.

“You…” The farmer pauses, collecting their thoughts. “...you yearn for …my joy?” They ask, hesitantly, as if waiting for the punchline to a joke made at their expense.

“Yes. Although if I were to put more thought into it, I feel as though craving would better encompass my feelings on the matter.”

A silence is shared between the two. One lost in raging thoughts, the other calmly navigating through them.

“There…isn’t any music. How shall I dance?”

Caldarus was made of stone, yet the farmer swore they could see him light up.

“I am of the opinion that the sounds of nature provide the most brilliant music. However…I may remember some music from a long time ago. Music that could be used for dancing. I am not the best singer, but I can follow a tune just fine.”

“You’d sing for me?”

“If you dance for me, yes, I shall sing for you.”

“How shall I dance?”

“You may dance however you wish, farmer. My only request is that you may feel joy in your dance.”

The farmer smiles wistfully, feeling that aforementioned joy creep up on them.

“Very well o’ Guardian of Mistria.” They took a dramatic bow before the statue. “Sing and I shall dance for you. Caldarus chuckled heartily, amused by their theatrics.

The Guardian and the farmer made good on their vow to each other, singing and dancing for hours upon hours. Even as the day turned to night, the stars provided a spotlight for their performance. The farmer danced and danced, laughing and smiling, singing along as best they could as they talked and shared stories.

As the night continued, the Guardian Dragon found himself yearning, craving for something he could not yet have. The farmer danced beautifully. They were not classically trained, nor was their technique flawless…but they were having fun. And Caldarus felt odd about that. An odd feeling bubbling up from deep inside of him. He craved…he wanted that joy. He looked upon the farmer and watched as they danced…he wanted to dance beside them. He wanted them to look upon him with a joyous smile and dance alongside him. He wanted to hold them, smile at them, and be joyful in their presence. Ah to feel that joy, the joy of dancing. The joy of loving.

The night progressed wonderfully, up until a point when the farmer suddenly collapsed from exhaustion, sometime around 2am, if he recalled correctly. They stopped, but he still sang. He sang to them throughout the night, until he could not sing anymore. He was regaining strength, thanks to the farmer and their offerings of essence, but he could not remain conscious for as long as he hoped. No, he could not dance with them, nor could he smile at them. But he could sing for them, if only a little, in hopes that they would dance for him another night.

(Thanks for reading! Feel free to request!)

#caldarus fields of mistria #fields of mistria #caldarus x reader #gn reader #caldarus x farmer #x reader

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odditycircus-2002 · 3 months ago

Note

Scorpion, Quan Chi’s daughter, and granddaughter’s interactions with each other in battle?

A/N: You got it! As for those of you who don't know what the Hell is going on here, check out my Masterlist under "Scorpion" to get a better idea.

Scorpion and Y/N

Y/N: I am still... bewildered I married at all in the future.

Hanzo: I understand that Netherrealm is not a likely place to find such joys.

Y/N sadly: I never expected to have any joy in my life at all.

Hanzo: How you are from the Netherrealm still eludes me.

Y/N: Wasn't you who always tells your students it is their hearts, not their blood, that makes them who they are?

Hanzo: It's because every morning, I wake up with proof of that fact beside me.

Y/N: Do you remember the first time we ever sparred?

Hanzo: You were still teaching me how to harness my new abilities.

Y/N wistfully: You, in turn, taught me how to be a better warrior, coming full circle.

Scorpion: I am truly sorry for the loss of your husband.

Y/N: My grief for him has become a fire that threatens to burn me from within!

Scorpion: I know precisely about the fire you describe.

Scorpion and His Daughter:

D/N: I'm not a child that needs protection anymore.

Hanzo: I only want you to be safe and well.

D/N growing frustrated: I am a trained Shirai Ryu and an adult, Father.

Hanzo: Do not think that because you're my daughter, you will receive any special treatment here.

D/N confident: I never asked, nor will I ever.

Hanzo with pride: Spoken like a true Shirai Ryu.

D/N: After learning about Quan-chi, were you ever tempted to kill Mother for being his daughter?

Hanzo: To my eternal shame, I was, for a moment, amid my rage.

D/N: Fortunately, you didn't. Otherwise, we would have never spoken again.

Scorpion: Did I raise you well?

D/N genuinely: Despite being overbearing at times, you and Mother are the best parents I could ask for.

Scorpion sadly: If only Satoshi were alive to also say those words.

Y/N and Her Daughter

Y/N: How are you getting along with everyone at Special Forces?

D/N: Takeda's betrothed is alright, although Cassandra gets on my nerves.

Y/N: Patience, my child. Do not be so quick to judge all you meet.

D/N: How are you faring, Mother?

Y/N solemnly: Not a day goes by that I still don't miss your father.

D/N: Then let us try to alleviate our grief through Kombat.

Y/N: You inherited your father's tenacity.

D/N: Along with the hellfire that blazes within you both.

Y/N: Then be warned to avoid repeating either your father's or my mistakes.

D/N: Seeing how her handlers treated her, I don't see any reason why I can't keep Xin Yan.

Y/N exasperated: Do you know the first thing about caring for an Outworld Tygore?

D/N: ... No, but I will surely take better care of Xin than they ever did!

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littlemissmentallyunstable · 6 months ago

Text

title: we’re apples and oranges now

pairing: Grayson Hawthorne x reader

synopsis: you and Grayson broke up years and years ago after a long and happy relationship but one day you meet again in the future and the memories come flooding back…

parts: we’re oranges and apples now (grayson’s pov)

warnings: it’s kind of sad (help idk how to write warnings)

a/n: ignore the slightly obscure title… I have taken from inspiration from a poem I once heard that made me cry. I would definitely be willing to write this in Grayson’s POV if anyone wanted to see it

tag list: there is no tag list but let me know if you want to be on it :)

You were in the shop picking up a few bits you knew you needed at home. You leisurely walk over the fruit section and gaze across the endless choices, before finally deciding the settle for a few apples. You grab a brown paper bag and begin to place what look to be the nicest ones in there. You become aware of someone standing beside you and you quickly side glance seeing that they are buying some oranges. You smile to yourself, ‘funny’ you think wistfully, ‘apples and oranges’.

You reach for your fourth and final apple and accidentally bump into the figure, your hands fly to your mouth as you opt an apologetic tone, “Oh my gosh I’m so sorry!”

“Y/N?”

You freeze, paralysed for a moment. You can hear your heart thumping in your ears, the shock overtaking your system. That voice. How could you ever forget that voice? It only belonged to one person. Grayson Hawthorne.

You look up, your heart picking up in speed suddenly, “Gray?”

You meet a pair of familiar steel grey eyes. Those eyes. His eyes. The rolling thunderstorm clouds, telling stories without words made you want to melt right there and then on the spot. A poetic sort of grey that left you tongue tied and awestruck and all that was in between. They were so soft but so very sharp at the same time, just as you had remembered.

“Wow it’s really you,” Grayson says, almost smiling, though not quite. It was his way of being polite to people out in public, you recall noticing when you had been together.

It’s so odd seeing him again. It’s as of the ghost of him still lurked somewhere in your brain and now seeing in person was too surreal to comprehend. He still looking the spitting image of what he used to, like he hadn’t aged a day. Still just as gorgeous in every way. His golden hair still luscious, falling in velvety half waves over his head, forming a sort of crown, making him seem like a king. He had clearly maintained his sharp, muscular physique making part of you want to ask if he still swam but you decided against the idea.

Slowly your eyes trail down to his left hand and your heart slowly sinks. You don’t know why and you’re angry at yourself. You shouldn’t care, you shouldn’t even think about it but your mind still continues to wander. There’s a ring on his finger and it’s so perfectly Grayson. Who knew a circular piece of metal could cause a lump to form in your throat? You wonder if inside is engraved the initials, just like the two of you had discussed when evening when thinking about the future. And then it hits you like a bus. He’s actually married. You didn’t know why that fact hadn’t come to your brain sooner or why you hadn’t realised the reality or why there was a feeling in the pit of your stomach bubbling away. A sort of… jealousy? But why would you be jealous, it was going to happen eventually. ‘He looks happy,’ you think. And you want him to be happy. But did you really want him happy with someone else? You shake the feeling. You have your own life now and he’s not a part of it. Not anymore.

But still the cogs turn in your brain and suddenly you’re thinking about his wife. You never thought Grayson would have a wife that wasn’t you. What did she look like? Did she have bright blue eyes and plump lips? Was she angelic, beautiful, confident, everything you were not? Or did she look like someone who could pass for your sister, with pretty matching features? Was she bold and daring or was she calm and reserved? What made him choose her? Fall for her harder than he’d fallen for you? What made her love worth fighting for?

No. You shut the thoughts down once and for all. It’s wrong. You refuse to dwell on the matter any longer.

But one last thought creeps in… you wonder if you were married like the two of you had once imagined if he would still be wearing that exact ring or whether you might have decided on another. You decide for the upteenth time to mentally scold yourself and not think about his marriage any longer. You notice his eyes flicker to the items in your basket. The baby bottles and blankets and the little outfit you’d just picked out. You wonder if his heart sunk like yours did. You hope it might have.

“Yeah, gosh, hi, how have you been?” you say, remembering you couldn’t just keep staring at him, you shouldn’t just keep staring at him.

“Good, I’m good,” he says, smiling slightly, “how are you?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “good as well.”

“It’s been a while,” he chuckles slightly.

“Yeah it has,” you laugh lightly, “it’s about time we’d bump into each other.”

“Yeah,” he nods smiling more widely now. You’d never seen his eye light up like this, you’d never seen him so full of life and happiness. This person he was with now must really have made him different.

You tilt your head slightly and admire him, your mind flicking through endless beautiful memories you shared. The deja vu coats every part of your skin as you envisage the sunset beaches you’d fall asleep in his arms on and the late night talks you’d share.

“I’ve missed you,” you blurt out, without thinking, regretting the foreign words are soon as they leave your sorry lips.

“I’ve missed you too,” he replies, his tone true and meaningful, a hint of emotion in the midst of grey.

Your heart clenches and a rush of bittersweet mess rolls over you like the tired tide coming back to shore. You suddenly feel your eyes become glossy but don’t dare let a tear fall. There is silence and in that silence you stare into one another’s eyes, taking you right back to that fateful night when it all had ended. He had looked into your eyes just liked this and you’d looked into his and then that was it. But the silence is different this time, it’s not just agonisingly painful but it brings a sense of nostalgia. The goodness in the memories of the past that will never be created and the sorrow that they will never repeat in history again. In that moment of silence an unspoken conversation occurs between the two of you, a shared moment the saddest of happiness and the happiest of sadness all at once.

“Well I’d best get going,” he says, eyes flicking to his phone screen, a call coming through. You make the silent assumption it must be his wife phoning.

“Yeah me too,” you nod quickly, collecting yourself the best you could.

“Goodbye Y/N, I wish you all the best,” he says

“Bye Gray,” you smile, the bittersweet clutching your chest, “I wish you the same.”

And you turn and walk your separate ways, oranges in his basket, apples in yours. When you got home you shed a few tears and you wonder if he did to.

***

The apples rot in the fruit bowl and the next time you go to the shop you buy oranges instead of apples hoping he’d be there too, but he never was. You wonder if the next time he went to the shop he bought apples rather than oranges in hope to see you. But you never found out…

a/n: want to find others like this… check out my TIG masterlist

#bella writes 🤍#grayson hawthorne x you #grayson hawthorne x reader #grayson hawthorne #the inheritance games #tig #the hawthorne brothers #the hawthorne legacy #the brothers hawthorne #the final gambit

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manari-archives · 1 year ago

Text

Fast Times | LN4

Couple days in, I call you "baby" Three stories up here contemplatin' But what the fuck is patience Give me a second to forget I ever really meant it

pairing: Lando Norris x Reader

warnings:

word count: 1.6 k

note: again this isn't based on the entire song, just a couple of lines mentioned. also english isn't my first language so any corrections feel free to let me know and any feedback is welcome :)

masterlist

Lando Norris found himself caught in a whirlwind of fast times and fast nights. Lando had always been an ambitious soul, determined to make his mark on the racing circuit. He had fought tooth and nail to reach Formula 1, facing countless challenges and overcoming numerous obstacles. Now, he was living his dream, racing against the best in the world.

Lando had met you a few months earlier at a charity event. Your infectious smile and captivating presence drew him in immediately. You spent the entire evening engrossed in deep conversations, bonding over your shared love for adventure and passion for life. Lando had never felt such an intense connection before, and he couldn't get you out of his mind.

As the days passed, Lando found himself daydreaming about you during training sessions and team meetings. The thought of you gave him an inexplicable sense of joy and comfort. But he also experienced a whirlwind of emotions—an amalgamation of excitement, fear, and uncertainty. He was ahead of himself, dreaming of a future that was yet to unfold.

One evening, unable to resist his longing any longer, Lando picked up his phone and dialled your number. The phone rang, and his heart raced. When you finally answered, your voice greeted him with a warmth that eased his nerves. He couldn't help but call you "baby," a term of endearment that slipped from his lips before he realized it.

You, on the other end of the line, smiled at Lando's sweet gesture. You too had been thinking about him constantly since your encounter. You admired his dedication to his sport and his undeniable talent. Your connection was undeniable, and you wanted to explore where it might lead.

"Hey baby," Lando said with a hint of nervousness, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

You chuckled softly, "Not at all, Lando. I was hoping you'd call. How's everything in the racing world?"

Lando's voice grew more animated as he shared the latest updates on his training and upcoming races. You listened intently, genuinely interested in what he has to say.

"I wish you could see me race in person," Lando remarked wistfully. "Having you cheering for me from the stands would be a dream come true."

"Who knows, maybe one day I'll surprise you at a race," you replied playfully, feeling your heart race at the thought of sharing those adrenaline-filled moments with him.

As the conversation flowed, Lando and you talked about your dreams, your aspirations, and the shared excitement for life's adventures. The more you spoke, the more it became evident that your connection was something extraordinary.

"Hey, Lando," you said gently, sensing the underlying hesitation in his voice, "I want you to know that I'm not expecting you to choose between your career and me. I admire your passion for racing, and I believe in you. We can make it work, whatever comes our way."

Lando sighed with relief, feeling the weight of uncertainty lift from his shoulders. "Thank you for understanding, baby. I don't want to lose you, and I also can't imagine giving up on my dreams. With you by my side, I feel like anything is possible."

And so, days turned into weeks as Lando and you embarked on a journey of discovery, both individually and together. Lando's racing career took him to different parts of the world, and whenever possible, you would join him. You explored new cities, indulged in local cuisine, and revelled in each other's company. The exhilaration of Lando's victories on the track was magnified by your presence, his greatest supporter.

Amidst the chaos of Lando's demanding career, your love affair deepened. Lando found solace in your presence, a sanctuary in a world that moved at breakneck speed. But as the racing season neared its end, doubts began to creep into Lando's mind. The demands of his career were relentless, leaving him with little time for anything else. He struggled to balance his love for you with the pursuit of success.

You, too, grappled with your demons. You had always been a free spirit, tiptoeing past various stages in your life, refusing to be confined by society's expectations. You cherished your moments with Lando but couldn't ignore the nagging thought that your love might be overshadowed by the pressures of his racing career.

Amid your passionate affair, Lando and you faced the harsh realities of your chosen paths. The outlines on your bedsides told a tale of stolen moments and missed opportunities. Your love was like a flame flickering in the wind, uncertain and fragile. Lando was torn between his love for you and his relentless pursuit of success on the racetrack. The fear of losing you gnawed at him, as did the fear of sacrificing his dreams.

But as Lando's inner turmoil reached its peak, he had a moment of reckoning. He had to confront his demons and make a choice that would shape the course of his life. Would he choose the intoxicating rush of success or embrace the fragile love that you offered?

In a heart-wrenching twist of fate, Lando realized that his love for you could not be forgotten. It had seeped into the very fabric of his being, leaving an indelible mark. With a newfound sense of clarity, he mustered the courage to follow his heart, to take a leap of faith into the unknown. The racing circuit had given him everything, but without you, it would be empty.

On a starlit night, Lando found himself standing at the edge of the racetrack, searching for you amidst the sea of faces. As your eyes met once more, he knew that he had found his true home. The engines roared in the background, echoing the beat of their hearts as they embraced, leaving the world behind.

At that moment, Lando Norris and you embarked on a new journey, one where fast times and fast nights were replaced by the infinite expanse of love and vulnerability. You vowed to rewrite your story, to create a world where your love could thrive, even amidst the chaos of your chosen paths. Together, you would face whatever challenges came your way, united by your shared passion for life and a love that defied the limits of time and speed.

As Lando continued his racing career, you became an integral part of his journey. You provided him with the stability and support he needed, grounding him amidst the whirlwind of the racing world. Together, you navigated the highs and lows, celebrating victories and finding solace in each other during defeats.

In your quest for a harmonious balance, Lando and you experienced life's twists and turns. You faced challenges, made sacrifices, and celebrated milestones together. And through it all, your love only grew stronger. You knew that your journey would not always be easy, but your commitment to each other was unwavering.

As the years went by, Lando and you built a life filled with love, adventure, and shared experiences. You found joy in the simplest of moments and cherished the bond you had forged. Lando continued to race, his skills evolving with each passing season. You pursued your passions, carving a unique path for yourself while supporting Lando's career.

One evening, as the sun set over the racetrack, you and Lando found yourselves strolling hand in hand. The memories of your journey together flashed before your eyes.

"You know," Lando began, breaking the comfortable silence between you, "sometimes, I still can't believe how lucky I am to have you in my life."

You squeezed his hand, smiling affectionately. "And I feel the same way, Lando. Our love has been the guiding light through all the ups and downs."

"I remember those early days, filled with uncertainty and doubt," Lando admitted. "I was torn between my passion for racing and the fear of losing what we had. But you've always been there, supporting me and reminding me of what truly matters."

"It wasn't easy," you said, your voice tinged with honesty. "There were moments when I questioned if we could make it work, but it worked out, and it made us stronger."

"And you've taught me that taking risks, following my heart, is worth it," you replied, recalling the times you had embraced new challenges, encouraged by Lando's unwavering support.

As you continued your walk, the sounds of the racetrack faded into the background. It was just the two of you, wrapped in each other's embrace.

"You are my home, Lando," you said, your voice soft but resolute. "No matter where we go or what we face, as long as we have each other, we'll always find our way."

Lando pulled you close, his arms encircling you with a sense of security. "You're right. We've come so far, and our love has been the driving force behind it all. I promise to cherish every moment, to be present in this journey with you."

With tears glistening in your eyes, you pressed a kiss to his lips. "And I promise to be your biggest supporter, your pillar of strength, no matter where life takes us."

#lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris one shot #lando norris x you #ln4 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #Spotify

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tragedybunny · 5 months ago

Text

༺A Golden Moment༻

༺Summary༻

Astarion shares a tender moment with Aristen, his beloved Bhaalspawn, and contemplates the future

༺Pairing༻ Astarion x Aristen (Female Durge / OC)

༺Warnings༻ None

༺Word Count༻ 1018

༺A/N༻ Thanks to @icybluepenguin for the beta, as always my creative partner. This fic is for @aristenfromwarsaw as a thank you for the lovely photos she did for me of Serafina and Astarion. Aristen is her wonderful Durge. Thank you again!

“She doesn’t look like murder,” Astarion thinks to himself as he watches the elf run her fingers through the water in the fountain outside of Sorcerous Sundries.

Aristen then laughs and flicks some of the water playfully at the tiefling child she was bantering with. One of the brood from the Grove they had run across in the city, Astarion can’t remember a name, only the idol thief, Arabella and Mol, the ringleader, really stood out to him.

“She looks like a hopeless do-good type, an aspiring hero.” It makes his stomach clench almost instinctively.

For Astarion, there’s only two types of interactions with heroes, being forgotten by them to languish in hell for centuries or possibly being hunted by them for being what he is.

But Aristen is different.

The tiefling child laughs and flicks water back at her. The droplets in her pale hair sparkle in the sunlight like gemstones. It’s idyllic, the sun, the laughter, the warmth of the day seeping into his skin.

Aristen is not like other people who would call themselves heroes and put on a display of the good they want to do. She’s different because she has seen real darkness.

Even after her true nature as a Bhaalspawn had been revealed, she kept going on, trying to do the right thing. She pushed so hard, she made Bhaal himself try to take her life.

Astarion shudders involuntarily thinking of that moment. He'd stood there speechless, numb to the world, terrified to grasp what he'd just lost. If it hadn't been for Withers, or whoever he actually was, that may have been the end.

The sun is starting on its downward path and the tiefling child waves farewell to Aristen before running off with his friends. For a moment, she stares after them wistfully and he wonders why.

Perhaps they remind her of the simpler life she wanted, the life she thought she would have when she came to the city. The life that was all a lie.

Or perhaps she is fearful of what could happen to them. The group will move on Gortash soon, and the confrontation with the brain isn't far from that.

Those blue eyes suddenly turn his way. “What are you staring at Astarion?”

He feels caught somehow, like he's almost embarrassed to have been seen contemplating her.

“Nothing, just thinking about how delectable you look.” He smiles, trying to convince her.

“Is that so?” She gestures to the spot on the edge of the fountain next to her, returning his smile with a knowing one of her own.

He scoots closer to her and loops his arm around her, feeling her sun-warmed skin beneath his fingers. “But of course, my sweet. Would I ever lie to you?”

“I can think of a few times when you did,” she teases him and snuggles closer to him.

“That has been awhile,” he insists with exaggerated hurt at the teasing.

“Astarion, you’re playing far too innocent.” Her sweet smile hides her intentions as her fingers dip back into the fountain and she splashes him with the cold water.

There isn’t anyone else who he would allow this from, but Aristen is different.

“My curls, you wretch!” He lets go of her for a moment to defend himself, putting his hands in front of the watery onslaught, as the two of them both begin to laugh.

It feels good to laugh. After everything they've been through and what was still to come, they need it.

Gradually, it dies away and he puts his arm back around her, pulling her close.

“What was it really, that you were thinking about?” She lays her head on his shoulder and looks back off toward the horizon.

He’s not even sure why he’s keeping quiet, she’s seen the worst of him, what else is there to be embarrassed about?

“Everything- the past, the future. What all of this will ultimately mean, what will our lives be from after - well after it.” He can’t quite get himself to describe what they still have to do, the grim possible outcomes weighing his tongue down.

“That is a lot to be thinking about. Was there anything you wanted to say in particular?”

He isn’t sure they have the time right now for all that he wants to say. He hums indecisively. “I suppose if I’m facing the end of the world, I’m glad it’s with you. And whatever comes after too.”

“You’re too sweet, love” she says, tilting her head up to kiss his cheek.

The square around them gradually grows quiet as shops close for the day and the crowds head home. Astarion knows from dreadful experience that other businesses are just beginning to get busy, the taverns and brothels of Baldur’s Gate will soon fill with patrons. On past nights with such mild weather, hunting would have been easy, so many targets to choose from, he might even be able to dally a bit and remain away from both Cazador and his potential victims.

They should move on, the rest of their group is probably wondering where they are by now. But the peace of the moment is like an enchantment, one word and it all could slip away like the ephemeral strands of the Weave that Gale is always going on about. And it is so nice to watch the night fall without the dread of Cazador or Bhaal looming over them.

“We should probably get back,” Aristen finally breaks the magical silence and the world comes back into sharp focus for him.

“Hmm, I suppose we can’t let everyone go too long without us. Who knows what trouble they could get themselves into.”

Astarion reluctantly lets go of her and rises from the cooling stone of the fountain. He extends a hand, the very picture of gallant chivalry, to help her up. The blue of the sky is fading into pinks and purples, colors he may not ever see again soon. But he has today, they have today.

Arm in arm, they walk back to the Elfsong, one day closer to destiny.

#bg3 #astarion #astarion x durge #bg3 durge #my fanfic #my writing #bg3 fanfic

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thistransient · 5 months ago

Text

Halfway through July, and I have neglected to write my yearly birthday introspection, although it did occur to me that between my birthday and the new year I was in fact doing two introspections a year anyways.

For certain reasons I've been waffling about it, but it's also quite nice to be able to look back and compare with the previous year, to see what's changed (sometimes unexpectedly) and what's still the same. Last year I mentioned I "made a close friend [...] and disentangled myself from a draining relationship", but in the end I had been drawn to said friend because he was the polar opposite of the person I was disentangling myself from, and while a different extreme might have been refreshing in the moment, that too was unsustainable in the long run. I think what finally dragged me out of the cycle of too-clingy/too-distant nebulous just-friends-but-what-if sort of relationships was twofold: I started going to counselling with a goal (not the usual "I feel like I'm having a breakdown so I'll see a therapist for 3-6 months before ditching"), and also got into a communal hobby such that I was able to make casual friends and attend regular and diverse events with a time limit (rather than laser focusing on one person and relying on them for all my socialising).

A year ago I said I was feeling adrift, goal-less, and filled with the sort of summer malaise inspired by the scorching Taipei weather this time of year. Unfortunately we are still rather scorched. The temperature and UV levels somewhat put a damper on my usual practice of walking around outside looking at things. On the positive side, I did struggle through the adrift-ness and applied for one (1) grad school program over the winter, which I didn't get into but I did learn that I feel better when I'm working on something, and I was also motivated to finally take Taiwan's Chinese proficiency exam to open up my options for the sort of programs I could try for in the future (I passed a level higher than I expected to, and it was great to feel acknowledgment of my competence at something I'd really put long-term effort into). After the grad school rejection I started planning the trip to Ladakh, which allllmost felt like it involved a similar level of paperwork and fuss- and actually pulling that off in the end (ok, even tho this was after my birthday) despite all my fears and anxiety (particularly around travelling post-transition) was also a great confidence boost. (For a week after I also had this frantic urge to drastically change my life, and I can't tell if it wore off with time or if the heat simply drained out all ambition beyond staying out of the sun and sitting in front of the fan eating cold dragonfruits.)

I have at least two proper goals now, and although one may require starting over entirely from an educational standpoint, as they say, "the time will pass anyways". On my bike rides at night I do tend to start pondering what shall become of me, creeping along in the years but being no closer to permanent or even temporary residency status than any other time I write about it either wistfully or with well-intentioned but otherwise ultimately futile determination, nor feeling like I am useful for any sort of capitalist pursuits. (I suppose this is the part of reflection wherein things have stayed the same, and we must stay tuned for next year.) But I also believe I have made some progress in deflating a little the omnipresent catholic guilt at simply existing, not to mention the adjacent notion that enjoying life a bit and not being maximally miserable at all times is a SIN. By this I mean I have gone twice now to a nice hair salon to let a beautiful woman shampoo, condition, and also give me a haircut that doesn't bear a strong resemblance to a bichon-frise immediately after.

All in all, I would say the verdict is incremental improvement. (Okay maybe I'm also racking up incremental nerve damage from all the shibari but you win some you lose some.) My housing/employment/visa-running status hasn't changed dramatically but I feel more hopeful and kinder with myself. I think my Chinese reading speed has kicked up a notch. I've managed to keep the instant noodle consumption under control. I've sent a lot of postcards on my quarterly trips, which are generally well-received. I have taken great delight in growing many plants in the window cage (whether they survive is another thing, RIP to the tomato plants while I was away, bravo to the basil that miraculously rehydrated from what seemed to be a completely unsalvageable state, sorry to the lemon tree sprout that was apparently doing fine on its own before I came back and over-watered it to death). Things feel kinda okay, and I used to be quite suspicious of this because surely they were only going to get worse again, but these days I figure hey, even so, might as well enjoy it while it lasts.

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anonymityisfunwriter · 1 year ago

Text

Afterglow

"Just wanna lift you up and not let you go, this ultraviolet morning light below tells me this love is worth the fight..."

Part of Inspired by Taylor Swift Series 'You're Losing Me' Chapter List

"I just can't believe they're going to be married in two days," you wistfully sigh, tossing your jacket onto the couch.

There was nothing quite like a wedding rehearsal dinner to put you in a particularly wistful, romantic mood. It also didn’t hurt that you and Bucky had fallen back together so perfectly over the last few months. It all seemed to fall into place. "They're perfect for each other."

"They seem really happy," Bucky agrees, smiling at the lightness in your face.

You warmly smile back at him, "Yeah, they do."

"It was a beautiful night," Bucky continues. He ambles into the living room, following in your footsteps. “Makes you wonder, you know?”

Bucky’s not quite sure that you heard him. You’re sort of lost in your own bubble of romanticism. He hasn’t seen this side of you in quite some time, so he’s content to just watch you twirl around the room. He smiles at the way your dress swishes around you. He’s not quite sure if the flush on your cheeks is the alcohol in your system or just the thrill of the night.

There's something about this night. Something that he can't quite put his finger on. He just doesn't want to end. It's like he wants to stay in these twenty seconds or live out the next twenty years with you in this very moment. He'll take either. Twenty seconds or twenty years. He doesn't just want this night, he wants them all.

His heart flutters, he can't remember the last time that happened. He walks over to his bookshelf, the that you almost burned down on one of your first dates together. He drops the needle and plays one of his records.

Your eyes flutter shut at the sound of music suddenly filling the room, gasping when Bucky’s arms suddenly wraps around your waist, "What are you doing?"

"I just wanted to dance with you. Is that okay?"

You chortle at him, looking up at him. It's in that moment that Bucky sees it. It's back, that glimmer of hope, of love. It's back. You nod, resting your head on his chest, "I always want to dance with you."

His heart flutters again. He keens at the feeling of you back in his arms. It’s been six months of you back in his arms, but he never lets himself forget how lucky he is. In that moment, he knows he'll truly never get enough of you. "I really liked what Vision said, you know? About letting life surprise you with what it gives you."

"He is oddly poignant," you agree.

"Made me think of us."

You lift your head off his chest, looking up at him with a quirked eyebrow, "Really?"

"He said something like that when we were..." he trails off. It wasn't one of his finest moments in life, and he tried not to relive it as much as possible. To this day, he couldn't believe he almost burned down everything you had out of his own fear. It almost makes him feel sick thinking about the night he asked you to stay, to give him one more chance. He very well knows that it could’ve gone either way. "Well, you know."

Your head tilts to the side with an amused smirk, "You talked to Vision about us?"

"Yeah," Bucky anxiously chuckles. "I didn’t really have a choice, everyone just about slapped me upside my head. Well, Steve actually did. But anyway, he told me, in no uncertain terms, that I was being an idiot, which wasn't that uncommon of a sentiment."

A laugh bubbles out of your mouth, "Vision called you an idiot?"

"Vision, Steve, Sam, Natasha, Wanda, Tony, Clint, even Peter. And honestly, I don't disagree."

Almost six months had passed since your brief separation. Six months had passed since he asked you to stay.

And stay, you did.

You talked that entire night, talked about how you could fix what was clearly broken.

You talked about everything, the future you wanted, the future he wanted. You agreed that Bucky would go back to therapy. You talked about the team and Bucky’s work. There was so much left uncertain at the end of the night, but you had one very solid conclusion: that you would both try. And in the months since then, things were settling fairly well. Bucky didn’t wake up screaming in the middle of the night. He could envision a future that was brighter than the past. Your house felt like a home again. Light poured in once more. The silence was replaced with music. You finally danced with Bucky again.

Things were looking up. It all seemed brighter now.

Bucky finally stepped into the daylight.

"You don't?" you question.

"Well, I was being an idiot, and it almost cost me the best thing that has ever happened to me." You remain silent, a blush creeping up your face as Bucky continues talking, "You know that, right? You're the best thing that has ever happened to me, I love you, more than I ever thought possible."

"I love you too." You rest your head back against his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart. It adds something to the moment. In this moment, it is you and him. He is all you see, all you care to hear. He is the only touch that has ever ignited hope within you. In this moment, everything is right. Everything is perfect. "And I'm glad we found our way back to each other."

"Me too." Just over your head, he looks at that bookcase. The one from your second date. What you didn't know was on a shelf just out of your reach, tucked in the corner, sat his mother's ring. He smiles to himself. He's sure in that moment that his heart will never be as full as it is in this moment. "I'm happy here. I want to be happy, to make you happy. I want us to be happy together."

What he didn't tell you was the he could see it all in his head. He could envision it like he'd live through it time and time again. He could see the home you'd build together. He could see the family you'd one day have. He could see you walking down the aisle to him.

He'd have the next twenty years, but until then, he'd have these twenty seconds to tide him over.

Author's note: So... um... I've got a surprise for you guys. I couldn't actually decide what ending to go with. Sad? How unpredictable for me (That was sarcasm.) Happy? (I've always loved a happy ending, but I can acknowledge that they are not always the most realistic. So why not write both?

So here we are, dear readers, if you want to keep this image of a perfect, fluffy, happy ending, stop here. If not, I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!

Alternate Ending! AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Inspired By Taylor Swift

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated 💛

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