#anyway i made this on the roadtrip back home. he means so much to me. always always. always. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

goodlucktai · 4 years ago

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(I feel like I should finish your prompt first but. These ones are so good....feel free to ignore if you have too many asks but 29 or 33 with chocobros...?

PROMPTS LIST

33. “Are you SURE I can’t punch him in the face?” “Yes.” “What if I just break his nose a little?”

ik i just did this one for natsuyuu but...........chocobros

They're somewhere in Duscae, near enough to the coast that each breeze carries a hint of the sea, on another errand for another stranger to scrape together enough gil to eat tonight.

They've stopped at the last little roadside cluster of shops before the countryside stretches far and wide and wild, stocking up on what meager supplies they can afford.

Noctis has never lived this way before. He's never gone to bed hungry before. Neither has Gladio or Ignis, for all their world-weariness and the general practical knowledge and common sense they walk around with that far surpasses Noctis' own.

Ignis can budget with the best of them, and Gladio is willing to eat literally anything at any time, but Prompto is the one who gets it.

He chats at length about all the times he's had to get creative with pasta or rice because it was all that was left in his pantry. Back in high school, when he could only work part-time. When someone should have been taking care of him, and instead he was left to figure out how to stretch a tiny budget much farther than made sense.

"Come on, Iggy," he said once when they were out shopping, half-laughing. Like he thought Ignis was joking. "Fresh produce? We've got like a hundred gil between the four of us and we're totally out of restoratives."

And Ignis paused, and glanced sidelong at him. He put back the crisp, flowery vegetables and pulled out his little notebook and asked for suggestions instead. It took Prompto a few minutes to convince himsef that Ignis was taking him seriously, but now they like, bond over canned fruit.

"I'm gonna kill this catoblepas with my bare hands," Gladio says with feeling, leaning against the car. "I'm so godsdamned sick of pasta. Don't tell Iggy I said that."

Noctis rolls an energy drink between his hands absently, brow furrowed. It's tricky business, and he's not very good at it just yet, but home-made elixirs save them a ton of gil. He feels guilty when they have to spend their money on something he should be able to do himself.

"I'm telling him," he says without missing a beat. "He'll never forget, and he'll give you shit every single time you make cup noodles from now on, forever."

"I can't stand you," Gladio tells him seriously.

The bell above the door of the convenience store rings brightly, and Noctis glances up to see Ignis and Prompto walking out looking a lot more cheerful than they did going in.

Gladio's face does something very subtle and specific when he sees them, there and gone in a second, before Noctis can pin it down and figure it out.

"What are you two chucklefucks up to?" he calls over. Ignis immediately narrows a disapproving stare at him, but Prompto beams.

"I got a commission, sort of!" he says.

"A commission?" Noctis parrots, sending the energy drink back to the Armiger.

"Sort of?" Gladio adds.

"While we were checking out, the store-owner saw my camera, and seemed really into it," Prompto says. "Since, you know. It's unique."

Noctis does know. The digital camera hanging at Prompto's side has been with him since Noctis first bought it for him three years ago. He would rebuild it every so often, bowed over a collection of impossibly tiny parts spread out carefully across a dish towel at the kitchen table in Noctis' apartment. To call it unique is a bit of an understatement.

Gladio frowns, sensing where this is going a split-second before Noctis does. "And?"

"And he offered me money for it! Like, more than it's worth probably. A lot more."

"I don't see how that could be possible," Ignis says smoothly, leaning through the open window of the Regalia to put the shopping bag in the backseat. "Since your camera is clearly priceless. Which is what I explained to the man."

Noctis relaxes, glad that Ignis and Prompto have bonded over shopping to the point that neither of them want to do it unless they can go together-- because if Prompto had been in there by himself, he 100% would have sold his camera. He would have hated to do it, but he would have done it. It's like he thinks he owes his friends something just for letting him exist.

"Good looking out, Specs," Gladio says gruffly. Prompto waffles a bit, looking torn between pleased and embarrassed. Noctis decides to rescue him.

"What commission, though?" he asks.

"Oh, right. Well, he was kind of bummed about the camera, but he asked if he could see some of my photos, and Ignis said we had time-- "

If it were literally anyone else, Noctis thinks, up to and including and especially the Actual Crown Prince, Ignis would have said they were in a hurry and not to show off.

"--and he seemed really impressed! With the photos! I told him we were going to take down a catoblepas, and he asked why, and I said for some cash, I mean, clearly," Prompto adds, gesturing at the four of them and their general road grime. "So he, ah-- well he's never seen a catoblepas up close before, and he said if I could get some good pictures of it, he'd pay me for them. He gave me a figure, and it's, like, better than some of the jobs I've done for Vyv."

He's delighted, clearly. He likes feeling like he's pulling his own weight. Noctis is always so relieved when Vyv calls, not because of the inherent payday, but more because it puts this light in Prompto's eyes that Noctis would easily climb a hundred volcanic mountains for.

"Damn, Prompto, at this rate you'll have funded our whole trip," Gladio says. He doesn't ruffle his hair anymore, because Prompto actually hates that, just sort of scrunches his fingers through it instead. Prompto doesn't hate that at all. It's adorable.

Sometimes in the early morning, when he and Noctis are the last to drag themselves out of the tiny camper, they'll do their affirmations together:

"Gotta be our best today," Noctis will say, and Prompto will put on this absurdly determined expression, bed hair hanging into his eyes and cheek still creased pink from the pillow.

"Gotta get those hair scrunches," he'll reply gravely.

"What else did he say, Prompto?" Ignis says in a pleasant tone of voice that Noctis hasn't trusted since he was seven years old.

"Um! Nothing. Nothing worth repeating, anyway, you know." He is looking completely away from them now, an avoidance tactic if Noctis has ever seen one. "Woah, is that really the time? We better get going if we wanna catch that cow before it gets dark!"

He turns toward the car and runs into Gladio's arm instead.

"He suggested that Prompto's talents would be put to better use in different company," Ignis says, his voice carrying clearly over Prompto's whine of 'nooo, Iggy, let it go.' "He said that if Prompto ever got tired of our lifestyle, his door would be open."

Ah, Noctis thinks, followed by, ouch?

"Oh, fuck that guy," Gladio blurts. "Let me go talk to him."

"No!" Prompto clings to his arm, throwing all his weight into keeping Gladio in place. The Shield, who could bench Prom's entire body weight in one hand, lets himself be detained anyway and pretends to be annoyed about it. "Ignis, why are you causing trouble right now?" Prompto says frantically.

"Transparency is important in a relationship," Ignis replies.

"There's transparency and then there's causing trouble. Noct, tell them."

"I think Gladio should go talk to him," Noctis says immediately. But then Prompto looks betrayed, and it makes Noctis feel awful. "Ugh, okay. Okay. We're leaving. Ignis, Gladio, that's an executive order."

"Are you sure I can't punch him in the face?" Gladio grumbles.

"Am I-- yes, dude!" Prompto half-laughs nervously. "Very sure!"

"What if I just broke his nose a little?"

"Then that would be treason, I guess, cause Noct just said no."

It's with the standard amount of bickering and noise that they climb into the car, the top rolling up over their heads as it starts to drizzle. Ignis pulls smoothly back onto the cracked asphalt road and reaches over to turn the radio on; a peace offering. From the backseat, Noctis can see the corner of Prompto's smile, framed by a flyaway piece of yellow hair.

They live this way now, but they didn't always. Noctis used to have the run of the whole Citadel, had his own penthouse apartment, grew up dodging banquets and lavish dinners. It's not like he likes sleeping on the ground and having nothing to eat. It's not like he chose to lose his home.

But it could be worse. It's not a bad way to live, just Noctis and the people he loves best and these countless hours together. There's a lot of hard work and sometimes he goes to bed hungry but he knows he'll remember these days forever. He knows he'll miss them.

"Hey," he says, over the quiet sound of rain on the windows and the catchy synth-pop crooning out of the speakers. "Don't ever sell your camera, okay?"

Prompto says, "I mean, I wouldn't ever want to."

"Seriously," Noctis presses. He doesn't want to let it go. It feels important. "Your pictures are-- they mean the world to me, Prom. I can't even tell you."

His friend looks bewildered. He's half-turned in his seat, and his eyes stray to Gladio, then jump to Ignis, then settle back on Noctis. Whatever he's looking for, he seems to find it, because he smiles.

"Okay, weirdo," he says, "one fully-documented roadtrip, coming up. I won't leave anything out."

Noctis is counting on it.

#final fantasy xv #ffxv #chocobros #polyship roadtrip #prompto argentum #ignis scientia #gladiolus amicitia #noctis lucis caelum #my writing #prompt #owletstarlet #ffxv fic #irrelevant but i listened to willow by twsift on repeat while writing this so thats like. the vibe

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blood-teeth · 3 years ago

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I really like your writing! It reminds me of some of my favorite works - KR0, for example😉. You don't have to share if you don't want to - but do you have any writing tips on capturing that Americana liminal space stuff? (Or any tips in general, really.) I took a lot of road trips as a kid, and this story/that genre is the closest it feels to that - but I can't exactly put my finger on it.

YEAHHHH KR0

thank you so much this ask made my day <3

hmmm... as for the tips, i think maybe for you put yourself back into that space of your roadtrips as a kid. did you ever see things nobody else did? how did the night look you in the face? whose teeth glimmered on those dark roads.

something else i've invested a lot in ARE those purely american folk tales. for whatever reason we've got a lot of stories about hitchhikers. there was one radio play i heard about a guy that decided to take a cross country trip. there's a hitch hiker in the rain under a bridge and this driver decides not to pull over. over the next few days the driver keeps seeing this same man, the same hitch hiker over the next few days in differing areas of the country. it scares him. finally, he enters Oklahoma - a state i was born and raised in, so this was super close to home for me - and he's lonely. in texas he picks up a different hitchhiker - a woman. they drive and he sees that man again, the one that had been following him. the driver tries to run him over but suddenly he isn't there. anyway, the hitchhiker finally catches him napping in his car. he's friendly, bright wide smile and flickering teeth that dance in the night. the driver runs away and finds a payphone to call his mother back home. his mother doesn't answer, it's a different voice that tells him his mother was hospitalized because her son died driving while he was doing a cross country road trip...

he had been dead this whole time.

anyway, obviously the hitchhiker was death, trying to bring him home. i always think back to that when i write these weird liminal spaces. this endless road with no where to go. picking up an inevitability on the side of the road. i think consuming media like that can bring those memories you have into a different light.

something else i would recommend is think about folk tales you've heard. the weirdness of it. the melancholy of it all. why do we create these monsters, there's forlorn ghosts wandering roads. make your own folk tales and make sure they resonate with you. who cares if someone thinks its weird. it will be because it wasn't made for them. but if it doesn't mean anything to you you won't be able to capture the feeling and experience you're looking for.

#i hope this makes sense #thank you ! <3

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tennessoui · 4 years ago

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i really am just so excited for part two of the roadtrip au and knowing it might be from obi-wan's perspective??? seeing obi-wan fawn over anakin while anakin dotes on him?? i'm losing my mind.

hey!!! bless!!!! i know i said it would be part 1, part 2, part 3, but i started writing part 2 and it's like already 2.2k long and they're just in Pennsylvania so i think we should all start thinking of this story as part 1 (finished, posted), ARC 2 (very long, is in segments, depending on what people wanna see and what road trip shenanigans i can think up), and part 3 (tbd)

anyway here's the 2.2k (squick: a/b/o, mpreg)

“Uh, sir? Are you...alright?”

That’s the gas station attendant. Obi-Wan barely resists the urge to thunk his head on the side of the bathroom stall. The only thing stopping him is how absolutely unsanitary it would be, and he already feels dirty enough. He pulls a few more squares of toilet paper from the dispenser and wipes at his mouth.

Of all the pregnancy symptoms he hates, he thinks morning sickness is the one he hates the most. And it’s the one that seems to be, for some reason, sticking around the longest.

He’d never even known how much of a misnomer morning sickness is, but it’s not like it’s only happening in the morning. He’ll feel nauseous halfway through the day, mid-afternoon, early evening.

His doctor and close friend at the hospital, Bant, had assured him this was normal and nothing to worry about. But it’s hard not to worry about it, especially when he lives with an Alpha who worries about everything.

“Just fine, thank you,” Obi-Wan says politely as he flushes the toilet and leaves before he can watch his breakfast spiral down and disappear. That’ll only make him feel even more sick.

The girl wrings her hands as she watches him wash his, and he has to take pity on her. She can’t be older than eighteen. “Morning sickness,” he tells her, placing a hand on the virtually unnoticeable swell of his belly.

“Oh!” she says. Obi-Wan fights the urge to grimace when he sees her eyes dart down to his unmarked neck. He knows how it looks. He knows how it sounds. “Sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to--”

“It’s quite alright,” he says. It’s not, but it is. Obi-Wan doesn’t want to have this conversation, doesn’t want to talk to this girl anymore. They’re passing through a small town in central Pennsylvania. He’s a pregnant, unmated, thirty-eight year old male omega. A rarity. A talking point. He doesn’t want to talk to her, he wants--

There’s a loud knock on the door to the bathroom. “Obi-Wan? Are you alright? Is there someone in there with you? I thought I heard voices. Obi-Wan? I’m coming in, Obi-Wan.”

Anakin.

Obi-Wan gets halfway through drying his hands before Anakin’s there, crowding him against the sink and nosing at his face and neck.

“Sir, this is a bathroom for omegas only!” the gas station attendant protests, but Anakin growls at her.

As much as the pregnancy has made Obi-Wan lose parts of himself to his Omegan side, it’s been ten times worse for Anakin for some reason. As far as Alphas go, Anakin’s always been a thoughtful, respectful one. Quick to anger, perhaps, but never violent or suspicious.

Now it’s like everyone in the world has done something to personally offend Anakin. Everyone but Obi-Wan.

If he didn’t feel such a burning, unignorable need to get to Seattle, Obi-Wan would have called the whole trip off weeks ago.

But he couldn’t then and he definitely can’t now, not when they’ve both taken the time off of work and Obi-Wan’s let his doctor know he’ll be out of the state and they’re already in Pennsylvania.

He’ll just let Anakin do whatever he needs to do to feel alright with taking a pregnant, unmated omega across the country. It’s not as if it’s a hardship to put up with all the scentings and hugs and looming and protectiveness.

Quite the opposite, actually.

Which just makes Obi-Wan feel even more guilty, the way he’s using Anakin like this. His dearest, closest friend, who is helping him in such an amazing way, and every time he touches him, it’s all Obi-Wan can do to not arch up into the touch.

He wishes he could blame it on the pregnancy hormones, the way his instincts are going haywire to keep an alpha--any alpha--close. But it’s not. It’s Anakin. It’s the fact that Obi-Wan is hopelessly, irreversibly in love with the alpha.

The touches and the scenting don’t mean what he wants them to. It doesn’t mean anything, the way Anakin pushes his shirts and sweaters to Obi-Wan’s chest and watches him put them on. He’s an observant man, his alpha. He knows Obi-Wan likes wearing his scent now that he’s pregnant. It’s comforting.

So even though it doesn’t mean anything at all, the way Anakin’s hands roam over his waist and stomach and hips as he growls at the poor gas station attendant, Obi-Wan has to fight to not push back into the touches, to not scent him in return.

He’s afraid once he does, he won’t be able to stop. The thought of it, of marking the beautiful, strong, virile alpha with his smell, is too addicting to ever risk trying.

“I’m fine, I’m fine. It’s just a bit of morning sickness,” he says lightly, touching Anakin’s chest gently. “She was just checking up on me.”

Anakin glares at the girl and starts to herd Obi-Wan out of the bathroom. “Not hers to check up on,” he mutters, hands latching onto Anakin’s hips and guiding him through the aisles of brightly colored chips and candy.

Obi-Wan thinks that for both of their sakes he should remind Anakin that he’s not his to check up on either, but he doesn’t want to, not when he can pretend for a little bit longer.

“I think I would like to lie down in the back for a bit,” he says, holding his stomach. “Just until we get out of this state.”

Anakin agrees immediately, like he knew he would. “Okay, Obi,” he murmurs, opening the car door for him. They’d laid down their suitcases in the wells behind the two front seats, and Anakin had thrown a couple of blankets over the entire area to make a sort of makeshift nest for Obi-Wan to sleep in should he want to.

They’ve only been driving for four hours, but Obi-Wan already wants to. He’s painfully on edge.

He hadn’t understood how hard it would be to convince his hindbrain and body to leave the safety of their apartment, but all he wants now is to nest somewhere safe for him and the baby. It would have been impossible to do this without Anakin.

“Alright,” the alpha says. “Um. Wait. Here.”

He shucks off his sweatshirt, a faded college one that Obi-Wan’s been coveting with his eyes since Anakin had put it on this morning. “Oh, dear one, no,” he forces himself to say anyway. “It’s December. You need a sweatshirt.”

“I’ll turn up the heat,” Anakin holds it out insistently, stubbornly. “Take it, come on.”

Obi-wan can only make himself hesitate for a second more before he’s snatching the soft fabric that smells like sunlight linen honeydew out of his hands and holding it greedily to his chest. “Alright.”

Under the weight of the alpha’s watchful eyes, Obi-Wan crawls into the backseat and curls up with his head diagonal from the driver’s seat. He thinks it’ll be nice to wake up and see Anakin’s profile whenever he wants to without additional shifting.

“Oh shit,” Anakin curses suddenly. “I was going to buy a coffee.” The alpha pauses, clearly torn between going back inside and not wanting to leave the omega alone in the car. But Obi-Wan knows Anakin, and he needs his coffee.

“Oh,” he says as if he’s just remembering something himself, “can you get me one of those bananas on the counter? I think they’re good for babies.”

That, obviously, changes everything for Anakin who straightens instantly. “Bananas are good for babies,” he declares, nodding his head before narrowing his eyes. “Would you...can I lock the door? I won’t be long. Just for safety.”

Obi-Wan blinks and purses his lips to stop his little smile. His alpha can be so silly. Safety. In the middle of the afternoon in rural Pennsylvania. “Okay, alpha,” he agrees before he even realizes that he really shouldn’t be calling Anakin alpha. Especially not when the other man always reacts so strongly to it.

Case in point, he thinks to himself sadly as Anakin’s hand spasms on the car door handle before he slams it and hustles away, almost at a run.

With a long sigh, he flops back down into his nest and squirms until he gets comfortable. There’s a pillow close to his hand that he hugs to his chest when he realizes it’s Anakin’s pillow from his bed at home. It smells amazing, a mix of both of them together.

Ever since he’d told the alpha he was pregnant, Obi-Wan’s fallen asleep in Anakin’s bed more often than not. It’s a comfort thing, one that Obi-Wan feels intensely guilty about. Surely if he keeps being so clingy and whiny and Omegan, Anakin will get sick of him.

And this is just the beginning of the pregnancy. He knows rationally that Anakin loves him as a friend, a brother, but how long is that love going to last if Obi-Wan can’t get a handle on his goddamn hormones? Anakin hadn’t signed up for any of this. It’s not even his pup. How much is Obi-Wan willing to put him through just because he can’t imagine a life without the alpha in it?

Wouldn’t it be the best thing for the both of them to cut their losses now? Bail and Breha had told Obi-Wan he could move in with them for the duration of the pregnancy if he needed to. The only thing that stopped him from saying yes immediately had been the hope that Anakin would be willing to stay with him, keep living with him even after he’d fucked up so much.

And the alpha, by some miracle, hadn’t left, hadn’t moved out. But Obi-Wan can’t shake the thought that he will soon, that this will all get to be too much. Obi-Wan’s omega whimpers at the back of his mind at the idea that one day the alpha will be gone.

The scent of distressed omega fills the car as Obi-Wan feels his bottom lip start to wobble.

Alright, the influx of hormones that are wreaking havoc on his emotions is probably the pregnancy symptom he hates the most. But morning sickness is still up there, too.

He sniffs into Anakin’s college sweatshirt and tries to think happy thoughts. He shouldn’t make Anakin worry about his emotions when he’s already spending so much time worried about his physical health.

How much is Obi-Wan going to take advantage of Anakin’s kindness?

The doors unlock with a beep, signaling his alpha’s return to the car.

It doesn’t take Anakin even a second to catch onto Obi-Wan’s recent spiral of emotion, but at least he won’t know why unless Obi-Wan tells him.

“Obi?” he asks frantically, as soon as he opens the car door. “Obi, are you alright? Did something happen? Did someone see you--?”

“Put the coffee down before you spill it,” Obi-Wan instructs after peeking out of his sweatshirt haven. “I’m alright, Anakin. It’s just the hormones. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Anakin shakes his head. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

The statement pulls a wry smile from Obi-Wan. “Oh, I can think of a few things,” he murmurs, touching his belly with a pointed, gentle hand. Before Anakin can say anything about that, he continues quickly. “I was just wondering about something, I’m fine, really. Really.”

And then, knowing he shouldn’t but also knowing it’ll distract Anakin enough from this line of questioning, he tilts his head back to expose his neck and says, “Can we drive, alpha?”

The coffee cup still clutched in Anakin’s hands bursts open under the force of his grip. He really should have put it down.

Anakin curses up a storm as he shakes the hot liquid off of his skin, and Obi-Wan sits up worriedly. Anakin was bothered so much by Obi-Wan calling him that that he accidentally hurt himself. No more, the omega resolves. He can take a hint.

“Are you alright?” he asks, grabbing at Anakin’s hand to examine the red skin.

“I’m fine!” Anakin yelps, jumping away. “I just--I’m just going to go wash this off. Um. And get more coffee.”

He slams the door shut, and Obi-Wan wilts as he watches him go. He can’t even follow after him because Anakin’s locked the doors with his car key. He’s done enough already.

“Oh baby,” he tells his stomach. “I don’t think I’m ever going to have that alpha figured out.”

The baby is still and, of course, silent, but Obi-Wan takes comfort in their presence anyway. They can’t leave him. Not yet, at least.

Gingerly, he maneuvers his way out of his nest so he can reach his messenger bag he’d left in the foot of his passenger seat. It takes some finangling, but finally he’s able to fish out his headphones. As he resettles into his nest, surrounded on all sides by Anakin’s scent, he notices the bunch of bananas thrown in the driver’s seat.

Obi-Wan snorts at his silly alpha, but can’t deny that he’s touched at the same time.

It’s extremely easy to find the track he wants to listen to, what with how often he listens to it these days. Sometimes, it’s the only thing that can get him to fall asleep.

He pulls up the downloaded homemade album Anakin had given him for Christmas four years back. When he presses play, his alpha’s deep melodic voice spills into his ears.

“Whan that Aprill with his shoures soote, the droghte of March hath perced to the roote…”

Of course he can’t be sure, but he’s fairly certain he’s asleep by the time Anakin comes back to the car.

#asks #squick tag: a/b/o #squick tag: mpreg #prompt fill #roadtrip au #oh?? its somehow MORE angsty now that obi-wan's POV is being explored???#is ANYONE surprised??? lmao #(no)#also yes at the end obi-wan is listening to anakin recite the general prologue of the canterbury tales with the original english #that anakin learned how to pronounce correctly so he could make obi-wan the best christmas present ever #was it going to be a love confession too but he chickened out at the last second??? yah #will anakin get jealous obi-wan's always lsitening to something on his phone and demand to know what it is??? yah #poor dumb men

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mintugiyuu · 4 years ago

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Hi pepper ! (omg such a cute name) 💓 can I pls request modern au bf giyuu headcanons? I was just watching the valentine's day special and he seems so (unexpectedly) romantic? 🥺 I really wanna read your take on modern giyuu bc I loved the way you wrote him on the roadtrip hcs !

Tbh I think he'd still be quiet and awkward a bit but he'd be such an attentive and doting sweetheart, literally the perfect gentleman if he was raised by his sister because that's what tsutako taught him 💓 basically the same as the og giyuu from the taisho era but without the trauma and inferiority complex that prevents him from getting closer to others LOL anyway I hope this makes sense ! Sorry for rambling and thank you in advance 💓💓💓

> you have no idea how excited I was to see this request; I love writing my soft giyuu head-canons, and in modern day?? the possibilities are endless, thank you anon 🙏

> aw thank you hun! you’re v sweet! <3 I’m so so happy you liked my characterization of him, he’s one of my favorite characters and I love to write him soft ;3; no need to apologize, ramble away my friend!

> thank you again for requesting and I hope you enjoyed! this made my day to write! <3

༄ modern au! boyfriend giyuu head-canons.

sfw head-canons:

➥ pairing || tomioka giyuu x reader

➥ warnings || mentions of food and eating

giyuu would still be very awkward and silent, but in a less gloomy way. he is naturally an introvert, so he tends to keep to himself; but once comfortable, he’s surprisingly open and a bit talkative.

he is the definition of chivalrous, because of course tsutako nee-san wouldn’t raise him any other way. plus, as I’ve mentioned, giyuu shows his love through actions, not so much words.

holding open doors for you, pulling out chairs for you, lending his never-ending collection of hoodies to you for when you’re cold; the list goes on.

giyuu’s favorite out of that list is lending you his hoodies.

if you’re smaller than him, then he finds it absolutely adorable how the hoodie swallows you whole.

if you’re taller, then he purposely upsizes his hoodie wardrobe so you fit into them. most people will then assume that he’s wearing your hoodies, since he now looks small in his own.

being a quiet, more introverted man, he enjoys quieter dates.

stargazing is a favorite; laying side by side on your roof with blankets draped over the both of you; your head resting against his chest as he lets you point out constellations and other brighter stars.

other date ideas include: movie dates (theater or creating a pillow fort at home and watching it in there); beach dates or walks along the beach; car rides to nowhere, hearing you sing your head off to music; sitting in the corner of the empty cafe, watching your favorite shows on his laptop with headphones in.

he also enjoys going to the pet store with you and playing with the kittens that the store keeps.

it wouldn’t take long for you and giyuu to adopt a kitten and name them “tuffy”, a nickname you have for giyuu in the morning because of how bad his bed head gets.

giyuu is not a morning person in the slightest; so if you were trying to get out of bed to get ready for the day, he’d sleepily grip your arm, gently pulling you back into bed and hugging you from behind, mumbling “5 more minutes”.

five minutes turns to two hours if you’re not careful or persistent enough.

even after you get him out of bed, he’s falling asleep in his cereal.

in another post I mentioned the two tap system; even if you’re not so shy, he’d still use that system for himself because he is.

giyuu would be holding your hand in public and suddenly tap the top of your hand with his thumb, giving it a gentle squeeze.

if you were to say “I love you, too” and kiss him on the cheek, he’d blink a bit in surprise before averting his eyes.

the amount of times you’d successfully fluster him is too much to count.

he loves to send you random pictures throughout the day since he’s such a dry texter (not purposely, he just doesn’t have a way with words).

most come out blurry because he sucks at taking photos, but you’d appreciate the shaky video of a baby duck following giyuu around the park he was at.

don’t get me started with selfies. most times you wouldn’t be able to help yourself from laughing at how terribly awkward and out of his element he looks in the picture.

not a selfie guy.

but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have an album on his phone dedicated for selfies of you as well as photos of you both.

he likes to look through them time to time, smiling to himself in secret as he remembers the memory from the photo fondly.

giyuu will visit you at work if you don’t work from home, bringing you your favorite snack/treat/drink to make your day a bit better.

he’ll even stay as you consume it to listen to you rant about the latest drama or gossip in your work place.

the way giyuu normally gives affection is hidden, in a way; kisses on the back of your head, hugging you from the back, things such as that.

you’ll probably be the one to initiate things face to face; he’ll happily oblige, if not a bit slowly.

the ravenette also loves to take you over to dinner at his sister’s place; she refers to you as family by now, always thanking you for taking care of her “little giyuu” and welcomes you with open arms.

overall, he’s just one big awkward, dorky, quiet sweetheart that’s very happy to have someone like you to come home to.

#🎣.requests #sfw #head canons #kny #demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny x reader #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny reader insert #demon slayer reader insert #kimetsu no yaiba reader insert #tomioka giyuu #tomioka giyuu x reader

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laurenairay · 4 years ago

Note

Number 3 with Nolan 😊😊

Here you go @chicagoblackhawkslover96 - a little angstier that I was anticipating, but I hope you enjoy this Kayla! 💖

Tagging @texanstarslove too, because you gave me a boost earlier today to write this!

“I just want to make you happy”

From: Nolan

What time will you be home?

You smiled at the text from your boyfriend, waiting until you were at a stop at the next traffic light to reply.

To: Nolan

In about 10/15 minutes. See you soon!

You didn’t get a message back by the time you parked your car, making you frown a little as you headed up to your house. What was Nolan up to?

The moment you unlocked the door, you got your answer. The lights were dimmed, Nolan standing by the dining table with a nervous smile, and the open plan room was full.

Flowers, at least a dozen bouquets, covering most of the spare spaces in the living room and kitchen. Balloons in silver and gold, tied up with curled ribbons. Three boxes of chocolates, the fancy ones from the boutique you know that Ryanne got from Claude on their anniversary. And how many candles had he lit?!

What the hell, Nolan?

He’d even laid the dining table with the nice plates that your mom had bought the two of you when you moved in with him, with the good wine glasses as well. It wasn’t your birthday, his birthday, or an anniversary at all…so why was he going overboard like this?

“Welcome home?” he said hesitantly, noticing your trepidation as you hung up your coat.

“What’s going on, Nol? What is all of this?” you asked softly, walking into the room, confused beyond measure.

“I just want to make you happy. I thought this might be...nice for you,” he said softly, barely more than a mumble.

Oh.

Oh Nolan.

“Baby I don’t need all this fancy stuff to make me happy. You make me happy, just as you are,” you said, smiling.

Nolan’s cheeks flushed with that beautiful pink shade you loved so much, and he bit his bottom lip, as if unsure.

“I just…I…you deserve it,” he said awkwardly.

But it was the way he said it that made you hesitate, a frown spreading across your lips.

“Why do you think I deserve fancy things, Nol?” you asked softly, crossing your arms over your chest.

He flushed a little deeper, one hand moving to rub the back of his neck, like it did when he was about to say something self-deprecating. Damn it Nolan.

“I know it isn’t easy, being with me. The weird schedules, the roadtrips, mean people on social media…and that’s not even mentioning the migraine shit. I just…you put up with a lot, because of me,”

Oh Nolan. How did he not know how this would break your heart?

The sadness must’ve been showing on your face, because his eyes went wide and his lips pressed together as his eyebrows pinched.

“I fucked it up, didn’t I?” he sighed.

“No!” you said, shaking your head, although tears sprung to your eyes.

“You’re about to cry!” he retorted, his eyes narrowing.

Hey.

“Because you seem to think that being with you is a chore that needs rewarding!” you snapped back.

Nolan flinched backwards, like your words had given him a virtual slap. Shit. Shit. You exhaled shakily, running a hand that was just as shaky through your hair. Damn it.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, looking down at the ground.

You couldn’t help the wounded noise that tore from your throat, a couple of tears trickling down your cheeks. Nolan snapped his head back up to look at you, his face shifting into something just as devastating, which only made your heart break a little bit more. No, no you had to fix this now. He’d put in a lot of effort...even if it was completely misguided.

So you took a slow deep breath, wiping your cheeks dry even if all you wanted to do was curl up in a ball.

“I don’t know if you’ve been listening to the wrong advice, or this is genuinely what you think, or if it’s just a random low mental health thing, but I don’t need or want you to buy me things to ‘make up’ for being with you,” you said softly, fingers making air quotes around make up.

“Babe…”

“No, Nolan, I’m not done,” you interrupted, holding your hand up. Nolan shut his jaw with a click, lips pressed together in a thin line, as if trying to control himself, “I knew what being with you was going to be like when we made things official. I knew it then and I know it now and I haven’t changed my mind. You don’t need to buy me things to get my attention or affection,”

You paused, sighing, before sending him a sad smile. Nolan tried to smile back, but it still looked too sad to feel genuine.

“I don’t know where this all came from, Nolan. And I hate that you think so little of yourself. But I love you, and I don’t need any of the frills to make me love you more,”

“I love you too,” he choked out, eyes desperate, “So much. I guess I just got lost in my head about all of this,”

You reached your hands out to where Nolan was clenching and unclenching his fists, and he quickly stepped forward to take your hands in his, making you smile.

“I’m not saying don’t buy me things. I wouldn’t say no to a nice dinner sometimes, or some flowers every now and again, or even a surprise gift here and there,” you said softly, trying to choose your words right, “but not in a crazy overboard like this And not to ‘make things up’ to me. That…that doesn’t feel right,”

Because it doesn’t. You loved him just as he was.

Nolan just nodded, smiling sadly, before he leaned down to press a kiss to the top of your head. “I know I need to work on that, about working on the mental stuff. But I am trying. Maybe I just overdid things a little tonight?”

“Just a little overdone,” you giggled, squeezing his hands as he laughed too, “just know that you can talk to me, yeah? I’d rather talk things out with you than have you try to buy things to smother your feelings,”

“I hate talking about my feelings,” he grumbled, although you could see he was trying not to smile.

“I know,” you mused, “But we’re going to do it anyway,”

Nolan groaned, making you laugh, even more so as he tugged you towards him to pull you into a hug. You wrapped your arms around him willingly, burying your face in his chest as he held you tightly. This wasn’t where you’d seen your evening going, but you were glad it happened, if for no other reason than to get all of this self-deprecation out of Nolan’s mind.

Eventually he let you go with a kiss to the top of your head, and then another gentle kiss to your lips.

“Have a glass of wine with me?” he asked hopefully, tilting his head to indicate the bottle chilling in the ice bucket on the dining table.

“Sure baby, that sounds nice,” you nodded.

You watched him fondly as he poured you a glass of wine each, accepting it from him with a smile.

“To us?” he toasted, his voice tilting up in hope.

“To us,” you nodded.

With any luck, things could only get better from here.

#my writing #prompt list blurb #nolan patrick #well this was angstier than i originally intended #he's an overthinker i can just tell #nolan patrick blurb #nolan patrick fic #nolan patrick x reader #prompt lists #nhl writing #nhl fic #nhl blurb #hockey writing #hockey blurb #hockey fic

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crystaljins · 4 years ago

Text

River lead me home | 08

Characters: Kim Seokjin x reader

Word count: 8.5k

Synopsis: Ever since coming to the human realm when you were child, nothing seems to fit, and this was just supposed to be a simple roadtrip to help you find yourself.

Is that too much to ask for?

Spin-off to A long journey home

Rating: Teens

Genre: Adventure, fluff, angst

Notes: WOw. Second last chapter! Who knew we’d get this far.... I said last chapter was the emotional climax and now I’m looking at the word count of this chapter and I’m a bit like... wow... ok... you had a lot to say, didn’t you?

Anyway, please enjoy!!

Tags: @blue1928 @veeparkersstuff

Masterlist

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 FINAL

The three of you decide to make camp in the ravine that night with only minor hiccups. The Psittanurans had kindly provided you with two extra bedrolls, both far more comfortable than your own, and since the three of you hadn’t anticipated the addition of a third human-sized traveller, you had foolishly left your old bedroll behind in favour of travelling lighter. Of course, Jungkook, used to the comfort of sleeping curled up in your pocket, refuses to sleep without a bedroll. You cheerfully offer to just sleep on the soft, slightly damp sand that comprises the riverbank, but you’re quickly met with protests from both of your male companions.

“Just share with me.” Jin mutters, only slightly grumbly. The two of you had shared the single bedroll multiple times throughout this journey, and he doesn’t enjoy the idea of you attempting to rest uncomfortably with the state you’re in. Particularly because you’re only in that state because of him.

You’re about to nod your agreement when you are yanked back several steps into Jungkook’s torso. He throws a heavy arm across your shoulders and grins at Jin in a way that lets Jin know that Jungkook is fishing for a reaction.

“Oh no, no, no, loverboy.” Jungkook scolds. “We can’t have you taking advantage of our dear, naive (Y/N). She can share with me!”

You yank at his forearm more out of annoyance than an attempt to dislodge his arm.

“It’s not taking advantage.” Jin grits out between clenched teeth. He’s not even sure why Jungkook’s insinuation irritates him so much, but it does. And with the way Jungkook’s grin widens, Jin realises it was the exact reaction Jungkook was hoping for.

“If you insist.” Jungkook gives in. But then his expression turns faux-innocent. He drops his gaze to the top of your head and you tilt your chin back so you can gaze back up at him. “I can only assume that means that (Y/N) wants to share with you as much as you do with her and well, no judgement but I-“

“I’ll share with you!” You cut in, and Jin doesn’t need good lighting to know your cheeks are aflame.

Jin’s jaw drops. Jungkook just completely played the two of you. And he knows it- he shoots Jin a smug look as you clamber into the luxurious Psittanuran bedroll alongside him.

Jin is utterly floored by the red-hot flash of irritation he feels at the sight. He glares for a moment longer, as if it will change the outcome of the situation, but when it becomes clear that it won’t, he sighs and resigns himself to attempting to sleep for the night. It doesn’t take long for you and Jungkook to settle into a slow, steady rhythm of breathing that tells Jin you are both asleep.

Unsurprisingly, sleep doesn’t come easily to him that night. It’s not even that you’re lying a metre away wrapped in Jungkook’s annoyingly bulky arms, something Jin didn’t even know was irritating until now. No, what keeps him awake is the way his mind absolutely refuses to stop replaying the way you had looked at him when the arrow had hit you.

It was easy, in the adrenaline rush that had pushed him through the events of today, to ignore any pesky emotions. He didn’t have time to process or understand his emotions in the onslaught of disasters. But now he has nothing but time as the night slowly passes and he’s lost. He’s so, so lost.

It’s been a common topic on this journey- how you make him feel. Initially the answer was easy. You’re annoying and pesky, like an untrained Labrador puppy, but you’re also family, like an untrained Labrador puppy. Someone he cares for greatly, but is also annoyed by beyond belief.

But for some reason, the longer this trip has gone on, the harder the answer has become. Does he still care for you? Absolutely. Do you still annoy him? Beyond belief. So if that hasn’t changed, why does that answer feel so incomplete?

He sits up with a groan, realising he’s not going to get any sleep any time soon. The shore of the riverbank is cold and damp and the sand gives way beneath his bare feet. On the edge of the river like this, he can gaze straight upwards and glimpse the jagged strip of starlight visible between the imposing walls of the ravine. The stars in this realm really are something else- bright, sparkling pinpricks on an indigo canvas, high overhead. So much brighter and more intense than the muted, dusky black of the sky in the human realm. When he’d first moved, he’d actually missed the brilliant glow of the stars above, and he’d bought little glow in the dark stickers to attach to his ceiling. It had been during the time where you used spend a lot of time with him and his parents because your mother was working a late shift. He’d come home, overjoyed at the little stickers he brandished, and then he’d noticed the way you’d eyed them. You’ve never been very good at voicing your thoughts- every admission of yours has to be coaxed out of you. But he’d known straight away that you wanted the stars. He hadn’t hesitated, that night, to grab a ladder and spend the evening attaching the stars to your bedroom ceiling in a pathetic imitation of the constellations of Magregnum.

The young teenager who had cheerfully attached glow-in-the-dark stickers to the ceiling of his friend’s room seems so distant and far away now. So much has happened since then- so much has gone wrong and so much has gone right. Briefly, he wonders if you’d liked him back then as well. Maybe he’d mistaken the longing glow in your eyes as being for the stickers when it had actually been for him. Jungkook had made fun of him for never noticing your feelings until now, but it’s not like anything has ever changed between the two of you. You’ve always gazed at him like he’s someone amazing and special. He’s always given up everything for you without a moment’s hesitation. If anything, the only difference between then and now is that you keep drifting further and further away no matter what efforts he does or doesn’t make. What can he do? How can he solve the problem of you slipping through his fingers like water?

“Can’t sleep?” A voice sounds, and to Jin’s credit, he doesn’t scream. He does start so violently that he nearly tumbles forward into the water lapping at his feet, though.

Jungkook settles beside him, hugging his knees to his chest and gazing up at the stars above.

“Something like that.” Jin manages, when his heart rate finally settles back into something that is conducive to life. Jungkook snorts and folds his arms across his knees, resting his cheek on his folded arms so he can peer sleepily at Jin.

“I can’t either.” Jungkook admits. “The bedding isn’t as comfortable as I thought it’d be.” Jin glances at Jungkook, arching an eyebrow at him.

“Not as fun sharing as you thought?” Jin questions, unable to keep the slight sneer from his voice. Jungkook grins, a flash of white in the darkness.

“On the contrary, I’m very comfortable.” He asserts, and something about the way Jungkook says it has Jin bristling in irritation. He’s about to snap a retort, when Jungkook drops the cheeky front he has on, quite rapidly. Like a balloon deflating. “It’s just... I thought that as a human, everything would seem smaller. Less big and threatening. Everything was huge to me as a pixie. But for some reason...” he trails away before swallowing. It’s the most vulnerable Jin has ever seen him- he actually looks like a young boy, lost and afraid. “Instead everything seems bigger.”

Jin is silent for a moment, mostly shocked by this side of Jungkook. He should know better than to be surprised that Jungkook is more than a pesky troublemaker, after all the revelations of this journey. There’s always more to Jungkook.

The thought makes him smile for whatever reason. Jungkook, fearless, pesky Jungkook, is afraid of the future. Who’d have thought it? In response to the sudden fond feeling in his chest, Jin reaches out a hand to affectionately ruffle Jungkook’s hair.

Jungkook makes a noise of protest, pushing Jin’s hair away.

“Hey!” He cries. “I open up to you and this is how you treat me?”

“I can’t help it.” Jin teases. “You’re surprisingly cute.”

Jungkook huffs for a moment, clearly outraged at the sentiment, before the fight slowly drains out of him.

“I’m serious.” He mutters. Jin shakes his head and mirror’s Jungkook’s pose, hugging his knees in close to his chest.

“That’s how everyone feels.” He informs the former pixie. “The world is surprisingly big and huge, and life can sometimes feel like a puddle and sometimes like an ocean. Welcome to being a human.”

Jungkook is silent for a moment, contemplating what Jin is saying.

“I... never imagined this would happen. There are all these things I wanted to do, if I were human, but I never thought I’d actually get to do them. And now, I finally have everything I wanted, right at my fingertips and I’m... I’m scared.” Jungkook confesses.

“I get that.” Jin offers in sympathy. “I was scared when we first came to the human realm too. And then I was scared when I first got into med school. And I was scared when I first got to this realm again. The things we don’t know are scary.” He confesses. “But hey. Sometimes the best things to happen to us are the scariest things to start. Look at you- if you’d never overcome your fear of granting the wish, you’d never have become human, right?”

That silences Jungkook for so long that Jin begins to think he’s fallen asleep. But when he glances at Jungkook, he’s wide awake. The stars overhead reflect in his round eyes as he gazes thoughtfully upwards.

“The best things... are the scariest things to start.” Jungkook echoes at last. He frowns and squints at Jin. “I think you’re a hypocrite.” He accuses suddenly. For a moment, Jin merely smiles stupidly, not fully comprehending the sudden turnaround. But gradually Jungkook’s words register and his jaw drops.

“I’m sorry?” Jin answers in offence. Jungkook stares evenly back at Jin and even tilts his chin defiantly upwards.

“You heard me. You talk all big and wise like that, and yet you’re too scared to start the most important thing to you.” He reminds Jin. “Why else are you sitting out here, glaring at the sky instead of sleeping?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jin mutters, digging his fingers into the sand. It’s kind of satisfying, the way it gives way and crumbles beneath his palm.

“I’m talking about her.” Jungkook says, jerking a thumb over his shoulder to where you are currently snoozing peacefully. “And how you’re in love with her but you’re too scared to tell her.”

The words seem oddly loud and booming around Jin. For a second, he can’t seem to form words- like his tongue has frozen to the roof of his mouth.

“I...” he tries, but he doesn’t really have any follow up. “I...” he tries again. The air suddenly feels warm and his shirt feels uncomfortably tight around his throat.

“Ok, wow.” Jungkook says, releasing a low whistle for good measure. “So, you’re still doing the whole “in denial” thing? Really? Even after that whole desperate “what would I be supposed to do?” anguished kdrama lead monologue you had in that burrow?” Jungkook tsk’s and shakes his head and Jin feels his face flush with heat when he realises Jungkook had been eavesdropping on that particular conversation. “Girl takes an arrow for you and you’re still gonna deny you love her? Dang.”

Jin swallows past the dryness in his throat. But Jungkook cuts him off before he can offer any words.

“Save your denial for someone who might believe you. I’m not even going to force you to say it out loud because it sounds like (Y/N) is going to have to do something more impressive than taking an arrow for you and jumping into a ravine with you to finally admit it out loud. I’m just going to say that I get it. I didn’t before, but now I do.” He offers Jin a weak smile. “The things we don’t know are scary. And starting anything with her is probably terrifying given all your history. But maybe when you start to believe the whole “the best things are the scariest things to start” spiel, then I’ll follow your lead. But for now, I’m cold and tired.”

He gets to his feet and dusts sand off the back of his trousers, before padding over to where you’re fast asleep.

Jin is rarely speechless. He prides himself on often having lots to say- to some of his friends he’s famous for the speed at which he can spit out words. He’s even heard you refer to them as “jants” when you think he isn’t listening.

But he’s speechless now. Jungkook’s good at that- taking impossible, scary, confusing feelings and making them seem so simple that Jin feels like a fool.

The best things in life are the scariest to start.

The words echo in his head as Jin comes to a realisation, in that moment. Why he’s been feeling so lost... why every moment with you feels like sand slipping through an hourglass...

It’s because he’s absolutely terrified. Terrified of what you mean to him, of the risks he would have to take to keep you in his life... and terrified of the cost if he doesn’t take those risks.

But at the same time... the best things in life are the scariest to start. And Jin is more scared than he’s ever been.

This time when he settles into sleep, the soft, steady sound of your breathing and the gentle lap of the river against the sandy banks is enough to lull his stormy mind into a surprisingly restful sleep.

When you awaken the next morning, it isn’t hard to tell that there is something bothering your two travel companions. There’s a multitude of things that could be the reason behind their stormy moods. The three of you are still trapped in a ravine together. There is still the long journey back home. The Saishtas likely think you are dead, but they still linger out there and if you aren’t careful, you could expose your presence to them. So, you don’t blame them for being quiet and a little standoffish, but you wish you knew the exact reason for it. After all, you had kind of expected a more festive atmosphere after Jungkook became human. You certainly feel lighter and more joyous- why do your companions not mirror the sentiment?

“Is everything ok?” You finally ask Jin as he assists you with packing up the bedrolls. He looks at you, a little startled like he has been lost in thought.

“Yeah.” He says, just a beat too quickly. “Everything’s... fine.”

Funnily enough, you aren’t convinced. But you decide you won’t push your luck. After all, there’s a long walk back to the portal, if you can even escape this ravine. They’ll come to you when they’re ready. There’s lots for you to sort through yourself, anyway. You still have to work things out with your mother, and you’re still unemployed, and now you know you’re in love with Jin as an added bonus. If they’re feeling even a quarter of the nerves you are, then it’s no wonder that they’re subdued.

It takes most of the morning to find a path out of the ravine. Jungkook is confident there is definitely one, but he’s just unaware of where. When he had been born here, he had just flown up and out. But since guardians used to come in and out for these journeys, there must be something.

It’s Jin who finds it, albeit accidentally. He’s lost in a haze, thinking deeply about whatever it is that’s bothering him, and the sand crumbles beneath his feet. He cries out, grabbing your and Jungkook’s attention from where you had been scrutinising the various carvings from past guardians.

It all happens so quickly- Jin flails, stumbling a few steps. He reaches out, grabbing onto the side of the ravine to stabilise himself.

But he just keeps going. He crumples into the wall. And it folds around him. And just like that, he’s gone from view.

It takes a moment of you and Jungkook staring stupidly at each other before you both realise what has happened. Crying out in horror, you stumble over to the section of cliff where he vanished. You reach out your hand to press against the wall and find that rather than firm rock, it has an unusual spongy texture that gives way.

You wave Jungkook over, who mirrors your action and digs his hand into the wall. It seems to suck his arm in slightly, and you both nod at each other before pressing your way through the odd, spongey section of rock wall. It spreads around you and clings like quicksand. For a moment you feel a flash of fear, but then the rock springs away from you like an elastic snapping back into place and you and Jungkook are standing in a darkened, open cavern. You can still make out the darkened path, but you doubt a human would be able to make out a thing.

“Ow!” You hear a voice cry when something warm but firm catches your leg and you lurch forward, landing flat on the cavern ground. Whipping your gaze over your shoulder, you find Jin sprawled across the ground.

“Well...” Jungkook observes, gazing around the tunnel. His new, human body did not have the enhanced abilities that you and Jin do (as they had arm wrestled the night before to check) and so likely he is completely blind in this tunnel. “I’m just going to assume this is the way out. Are you gonna get a torch out, (Y/N) or are we going to hold hands the whole time?”

“She’s getting the torch out!” Jin snaps, scrambling over to you and snatching the bag off your uninjured shoulder before you can do anything.

He plunges his arm all the way in and pulls out the familiar yellow torch. It lights up the tunnel, highlighting the long, winding route ahead of you.

And then the light stutters and blinks out, leaving you in the once more in darkness. Jin whacks the bottom of the torch a few more times and plays with the switch, but no light returns. The three of you remain silent for a moment, perhaps a shared moment of memory for your torch, who had fought long and hard for you on this journey. And then Jungkook breaks it.

“Well, hope your hands aren’t sweaty.” He sighs, and his fingers barely brush yours before he’s yanked away with surprising force.

“I have better eyesight.” Jin explains, perhaps a little too sweetly. It’s in contrast with the way he squeezes Jungkook’s hand perhaps a bit too tightly. “I’ll make sure you don’t fall over, Jungkook.”

Jungkook whines in protest.

“You’re hurting me!” He complains.

Jin doesn’t dignify him with a response, and instead sets a rapid pace forward, strolling confidently through the cavern despite the meagre lighting.

It doesn’t take long for the sombre mood that had plagued them that morning to return. This time, you’re a little less willing to let it slide- Jin has proven himself prone to these strange, moody fits on this journey and you know he’s eventually forced to admit what’s bothering him, but for Jungkook to be just as quiet has you stressing. What’s wrong? Why are they like this? You’d gone to bed joyous and content and had awoken ready to face the world and the multitude of challenges ahead. But for some reason, Jin and Jungkook don’t share in your eagerness, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt a little.

It’s not like you expected things to be easy, or simple after reaching the river. You hadn’t even known that message from your dad existed prior to this, so it’s not like everything would just click into place and you’d ride off into the sunset. It’s just... you’d thought you were all on the same page, after everything. You and Jin had plummeted off a bridge together, for goodness’ sake! And it’s stupid, but the way he’d held you, cradled your head protectively as you fell, you’d thought...

Well, you hadn’t thought he was in love with you, or anything. You’d just thought it was something, at least. Yet here you are- for every step forward you take with Jin, there seems to be another three steps you take backwards. And now Jungkook is joining in on the whole brooding-confusing act too.

You haven’t even realised you’ve stopped walking until Jin stops to look at you over his shoulder. Jungkook, still completely blind in the dark tunnel, stops when Jin tugs on his hand.

“What’s wrong?” Jin questions, gently. As if he hasn’t been ignoring you all morning.

“That’s what I want to ask you.” You’re surprised at the soft, tentative way the words come out. They echo slightly in the cabin, and there’s a clear, confused waver in your voice. “What’s going on? Why are you...” you trail away, searching for the words, but you come up empty. “Like this?” is what you finally settle on. “Why aren’t you telling me what’s the matter? Why the silence and the brooding? Haven’t we had enough of that?”

Even though your eyesight is better than Jungkook’s, it’s still difficult to make out Jin’s silhouette. It’s impossible to make out his expression, which makes the tense silence that follows all the more nerve-wracking.

“There’s nothing wrong.” Jin finally says. “It’s just something stupid.”

His words aren’t meant to be hurtful. He’s trying to be dismissive so that you don’t worry. You know this, and understand his reasoning perfectly, but it still feels like a slap in the face after everything the two of you have been together. You’re so sick of this endless, perpetual cycle. If it’s not him, it’s you- someone is always holding back, too afraid to say the truth. To crush the fragile eggshells that you’re tip-toeing on.

“Friends are supposed to share the stupid things.” You say softly. You can’t see his expression, but you watch the way his shoulders stiffen. “Did you know that Jungkook’s biggest fear is the washing machine? He’s afraid he’ll be asleep in one of my pockets and my mum will throw my clothes for the wash.”

“That was private information-“ Jungkook protests, but you cut him off.

“I know that sort of thing about him.” You tell Jin. “Because Jungkook and I are friends. When I went through that phase where I wanted to be a warrior and started enrolling in all those different self-defence class, I told Jungkook. It was a stupid phase, but I still told him. Do you know why? Because I trusted him. Yeah, we make fun of each other, and we fight, and we call each other names, but I still tell him everything because that’s what friendship is. It’s trusting each other to stick it out through the ugly.” You don’t know where all this is coming from. All you know is this- you just trusted Jin enough to follow him over the edge of a bridge, but he doesn’t reciprocate. And that’s been the problem from the start. It’s always been uneven between you. You shared all your ugly, all your insecurities. You went to him when things were hard. But he hid it- he masked his insecurities and he held back the things he wanted to say and now the two of you are here. Two strangers in a dark cave.

“I trust you-“ Jin protests but the words are empty and ugly.

“You don’t.” You finally say. “And I can-” you voice cracks, so you clear your throat and try again. “I can try until I’m blue in the face to be the sort of person who never needs you and never makes you worry and it still won’t fix whatever this is between us because the truth is, you don’t want me.”

Your words hang in the darkness between the three of you. You’re pretty sure Jungkook is even holding his breath.

“You don’t want me, Jin.” You say again. “You just feel like you’re obligated to be with me. And I... I don’t want that. I don’t want you doing anything out of obligation for me. Not anymore.”

Despite the fact that your throat feels raw and painful after your tirade, you feel oddly lighter. You take a deep breath and move to push past Jin, but a hand shoots out and grabs your wrist.

“That’s not true.” Jin protests, and his voice wobbles. “Don’t... You’re not an obligation.” He asserts.

And you want to believe him. You do. But you just can’t. You’ve had a whole trip- no, a whole friendship of him treating you like the most inconvenient creature in existence.

“I sure feel like one.” You say softly, and Jin’s grip on you goes lax enough that you’re able to start walking forward. “It’s fine. Let’s just get out of here already. The sooner we get back home, the sooner I’ll be out of your hair.”

The sun stings your eyes when you finally reach the end of the tunnel- a similar spongey wall conceals the exit. You tell yourself it’s the sudden influx of light that causes your eyes seem to water as you enter the last phase of your long journey.

Jin has an ugly, gurgly sensation in his chest. It’s close to guilt, but worse- darker, and more painful. He watches your back from where you walk, maybe ten metres in front of him. Jungkook walks close to you, clearly mumbling something. But since it’s Jungkook, it’s just as likely that he is comforting you as it is that he’s pointing at random lumps of dirt and noting the resemblance to your face.

You haven’t spoken a word to him since stepping out of the tunnel. The exit had brought the three of you out at the northern edge of the Golden Plains- a direct walk east through the forest would bring you to a village where you could stock up on supplies for the journey home since the Psittanurans hadn’t given you enough for three human-sized beings, and buy a third bedroll for Jungkook.

It’s an easy fix, really. All Jin has to do is apologise. Assert that you are not an obligation to him and that he does trust you. But every time he plucks up the courage to cross the few metres you walk ahead of him, something stops him. Because, if he tells you that, that you’re not an obligation, then that begs the question: what are you? As much as he loathes to admit it, he’s beginning to see the truth in Jungkook’s words; he’s a hypocrite. A cowardly, pathetic hypocrite who isn’t even brave enough to admit to himself what he’s feeling.

An unholy screech interrupts his commiserating and he has just enough time to think here we go again to himself before he is greeted by the sight of a terrified Jungkook held bridal style in your arms. You look equally shocked, as if you hadn’t expected Jungkook to leap into your arms like that. Jin rushes forward, ready to offer aid should disaster come but he cannot locate any immediate threats.

It is only once Jungkook stops screeching and cowering in your arms like a distressed puppy that Jin is able to see what has him so terrified- a small group of mice, standing up on their hindlimbs and wielding tiny little swords.

It takes a few incredulous blinks and a good rub of his eyes to convince himself that the scene before him is real and not something’s he’s hallucinating after watching too much Ratatouille.

The little grey mouse, whose tiny nose twitches in fear as he edges forward, is the first to speak.

“You are guardians, are you not?” The little mouse demands. You and Jin exchange a concerned glance across Jungkook’s hulking figure. It’s the first time you’ve acknowledged him for hours.

“Not!” Jungkook squeaks, still terrified. You, to your credit, have not dropped him, but you are starting to look impatient with having to carry him. “Just leave us in peace!”

“Jungkook!” You snap. “You could literally squash them with your boots please stop being ridiculous.”

“You know I have a phobia! They always bully me back home!” Jungkook grumbles, but reluctantly drops from your arms onto the ground. Only for one of the mice to brandish its sword. Jungkook screams and leaps onto Jin’s back.

With a resigned sigh, Jin doesn’t even bother to throw Jungkook off. He just lets him hang there, like a terrified koala.

“You fit the legends! Hulking beasts with terrifying aura!” A little soft brown mouse declares, though the tip of its sword shakes as it squeaks. “Giants who offer aid to all who demand it of them!”

Jin closes his eyes and inhales deeply, willing himself to be calm.

“I think you have the wrong-“ Jin begins, ready to brush aside the little troupe of mice and continue with the seven day hike home, but the smallest mouse, a little grey and white one with a soft pink nose, stumbles forward.

“Please!” It begs. “You are our last hope! You must help us! Forgive us if we startled you- we have been following you since you came to this realm and we are running out of time.”

This gives Jin pause. He’s not sure why- it’s not like he knows how to read the expressions on their tiny faces but something about the desperation in the little mouse’s words makes him unable to leave them.

“Our people are suffering from a plague.” It admits. “And there is only one cure for the illness.”

“A good mousetrap?” Jungkook suggests from over Jin’s shoulder. Jin glares at him just to make sure he knows the comment is unwelcome.

The little grey and white mouse ignores Jungkook and focuses its attention on Jin.

“The starshine fungus.” It explains. “It grows in abundance on the riverbanks just on the other side of this forest. But few of our people are well enough to gather and transport it back home. We need as many as we can gather, and yet we were the only ones healthy enough to make the journey. But the demand for it far outweighs the ability of just the four of us to transport it alone. We are too small, and too weak.”

Jungkook has gone eerily quiet at those last words- even his breathing has seemed to cease. That almost never bodes well.

“I’m really sorry, but we-“ you begin, on the verge of rejecting them.

“We’ll help.” Jungkook says, cutting you off. He pushes his way off Jin’s back and drops back onto the ground. He crouches before the four little mice and smiles. The expression on his face is almost gentle. “You guys don’t know what it’s like, to be small and helpless. We can’t leave a whole colony to die just because Jin wants to make it back in time for his dinner date with that cool engineer guy.” He says to Jin and you. Jin bites his lip, and you look momentarily guilty. But then your expression clears, and you nod your head. Jungkook’s expression brightens and he shifts his gaze to Jin, clearly waiting for approval.

With a sigh, Jin offers a nod. Why did he become a doctor if he’s just going to let an entire village die? As much as he loathes to admit it, Jungkook is right.

“So, you’ll help?” The grey and white mouse asks. Jungkook nods.

“Show us the way and we’ll carry the fungus back for you.” Jungkook promises.

On cue, all four of the mice bow deeply.

“You have our deepest gratitude.” The largest mouse, the grey one that had spoken first, says.

Jin swallows deeply. He has no interest on yet another detour on this ridiculous journey. He just wants to go home. At home, he can fix his Apple watch. He can have dinner with Joon. Maybe, in the safety of home and what he knows, he can even work things out with you, and himself. Here, in this realm, there is nothing but danger and the choked knot around his heart that he can’t seem to untangle in your presence.

Still, it’s a pleasant walk. You let the little mice perch on your shoulders since Jungkook hasn’t fully shaken off his fear of them. They direct the three of you on a march southwest, towards the seaside. It takes nearly the whole day to get there. The lazy afternoon is warm but not sweltering although the air is heavy with the promise of rain later on.

You all reach the river before the rain comes. The forest opens up into a wide river. Northwards, the river extends towards impressive cliffsides where the fabled dragon kingdom is said to be, and southwards it rushes out to meet the sea on the southern coastline. Here, though, it is a lazy flow. Dragonflies dance on the banks and the river reflects the silvery clouds back up into the sky.

“They grow along the banks.” The oldest of the mice, the soft brown one, explains. Her name is Phrosia, and she has lost all her children to the plague. She has no family and the only thing keeping her going is the thought that she can’t let anyone else face what she had. She points at where the bank meets the river edge. Small plants and reeds grow along the edges. “They are bright blue and quite large. They’ll grow just inside the water. They should be easy to spot.”

“Well,” Jungkook says, sighing as he sheds his jacket. “Let’s get looking.” He rolls up the edges of his jeans and sheds his shoes and socks before wading into the mouth of the river and sifting through the grassy tufts on the banks.

Jin meets your gaze, which is a surprise because he didn’t realise you were looking at him. He offers you a tentative, awkward smile which has you looking away quickly. The action has that ugly, gurgly sensation from earlier returning. He sighs to himself before rolling up his sleeves and following Jungkook’s lead, wading into the river.

Sure enough, as the afternoon settles into a thick, muggy heat that signifies an oncoming storm, Jin begins to spot patches of bright blue amongst the reeds that line the riverbank. It’s mindless work- sort of soothing against his stormy mind. At least while he’s focused on adding to his growing pile of fungus, he’s not thinking about you, a few metres away, and the weird ache in his chest.

He’s so engrossed in his task that when he feels the delicate tap on his shoulder, he nearly has a heart attack. The handful of mushrooms in his hand goes flying, catching the current and zooming away. He stares in horror at his lost fungus, before turning to the perpetrator.

He’s expecting Jungkook to be standing there, looking smug from a prank well done, so when he sees you before him, looking uncomfortable and strangely guilty, he’s reduced to staring dumbly. The silence draws out for an uncomfortably long moment before you clear your throat awkwardly.

“Can... can we talk?” You ask hesitantly. “Jungkook offered to keep looking for more.” You gesture down the river to where Jungkook and the mice are working together- He plucks a mushroom and they carry it over to his pile for him.

Jin feels a nervous and uncomfortable sensation clog the back of his throat, but he nods nonetheless. You smile weakly and lead him away from the riverbank and back past the tree line. When you’re out of earshot but still within sight of Jungkook, you stop and turn.

This is it- the moment Jin had been waiting for. A chance to set things straight, to clear things up, to make it right.

“I’m sorry.” He blurts, at the same moment that you blurt the exact same words as him.

For a moment, the two of you stare blankly at each other in the ringing silence that follows.

You’re quicker to recover.

“I went overboard.” You explain. “You don’t owe me an explanation for when you’re upset. I shouldn’t get mad over that. And even... even if you see me as just an obligation, I’m grateful you’re in my life at all. So, I’m sorry for getting upset and I don’t want to ruin the rest of this trip home.”

It’s certainly a heartfelt apology. You wring your hands in distress and you won’t meet his gaze. He can tell you’re genuinely sorry for what happened.

Maybe that’s why he’s so angry in response to your words. Because, even if he lets this happen, accepts your ridiculous apology, the original problem still remains.

“Obligation?” Jin tests the word and even just the shape of the word in his mouth is annoying. “Obligation?” He tries again and he feels his blood pressure skyrocket.

“You serious think after all this time that you’re just an ‘obligation’ to me?” Even Jin is surprised by the volume of his own voice. The area around you is deadly silent in response to his outburst, but now that it’s out in the open, he can’t help but keep going. “What kind of idiot would risk his life on a ridiculous trip like this, just because of an obligation? Why would I give up dinner dates and drive to your place late at night to make sure you’ve eaten? What, you think your mother slips me a little allowance for babysitting you? Newsflash, (Y/N), I’m a literal doctor!!! I don’t need an allowance! I own my own apartment! I’m thinking of buying a maserati! You don’t have anything I need and I don’t have any obligation towards you! You’re minimising everything I’ve done for you and for what? So that you can play poor pathetic victim? How dare you belittle my feelings like that!” He’s out of breath by the time he finishes his rant and to be honest he’s not one hundred percent sure of the furious words which had poured out.

“Well what am I supposed to think?! It’s not like you ever explain yourself! You just sit there, and stew and I have to find out how you really feel by overhearing conversations you have with friends behind my back!” You explode in response. If Jin weren’t so angry himself, perhaps he would have felt alarmed by the vehemence of your answer. Instead, he just sees red, because here you go again! Making assumptions about him and not letting him get a word in edgewise!

“When have I ever done that?” He demands. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so angry in his life, not even when Jungkook filled his shoes with pudding because he had nothing better to do.

“You always do that!” You cry. “I know how all your friends speak about me! There goes (Y/N), the leech! And you just agree with them- after all, aren’t I just like an untrained Labrador puppy?”

Jin falls silent at that. He doesn’t have a comeback for that. After all, for the longest time, that is what you were to him. He doesn’t even know why he’s so upset that you would think otherwise.

“No answer?” You accuse. “If I’m not an obligation to you, what am I supposed to think?”

“You’re supposed to think about how I feel!” He shouts back. His throat feels raw with the shout.

You fall silent. You stare at him like’s he’s grown a second head.

And then, in the ringing silence that bears down on the two of you, you ask softly “How do you feel?”

There’s that question. That terrifying, loaded question. The one that makes him feel like he’s dangling on the edge of a cliff by his fingertips. He feels the fight drain out of him as he opens his mouth to struggle through a half-assed excuse. Anything to escape that question.

This realm apparently reciprocates his feelings of hatred, however, for he never gets the chance to respond. The muggy heat that had plagued the afternoon transitions into stormy humidity; overhead the stormy clouds that had gathered burst and immediately rain begins to pour down.

The two of you flinch in the sudden onslaught, and a loud peal of thunder has you both skittering for shelter.

There’s a small, hill like structure where the soil between the roots of an imposing tree has been flushed away; what remains in a shallow alcove that has just enough room for you and Jin to squeeze beneath the roots and shelter from the rain. He doesn’t know what Jungkook or the mice have done but hopefully the large pile of starshine fungus is being managed and not washed away in the onslaught of rain.

You rummage in your tattered hello kitty bag and produce a small, dry towel. Who knows what enchantments are cast on that stupid bag that the towel is still dry, but Jin isn’t complaining when you wordlessly hand it to him.

He towels off his hair, and an almost comfortable silence follows, in stark contrast to the prior conversation. Only the background of rain falling and the occasional rumble of thunder hangs between you. In the silence, Jin registers your proximity. You crouch beside him, with your thighs pressed to his. The dampness of the rain makes hairs along your hairline curl and droplets of water cling to your lashes. His eyes catch the movement of one droplet as it traces a line down your cheek, across your jawline and down your throat until it vanishes beneath the collar of your shirt. Glancing away quickly, he’s suddenly aware of the muggy heat in the air and the way the space beside you just seems to radiate warmth.

“You didn’t answer my question.” You comment. It’s so soft that the words are almost lost to the steady sound of rain breaking through the canopy overhead. “How do you feel?”

But he hears the words, and he knows in that moment that this is it. There’s no time or room for running or pushing it down. He can’t keep avoiding that question forever.

“I feel overwhelmed. When you look at me.” He admits. You turn to look at him, awaiting an explanation. Something about the look in your eyes makes that weird gurgly sensation from earlier return. But this time, it’s less ugly- it’s actually almost pleasant. Like the fizz of champagne in the back of his throat or the tickle of butterfly wings against his skin. New, delicate, effervescent. His heart swells as he finally gathers his courage. “Did you know you always look at me in a certain way?”

He turns to look at you, and he doesn’t see that look now, but it’s not hard to recall. Eyes, sparkling with admiration and hope. In spite of all the ways you’ve changed over the years, that look has never changed.

“How?” You question. When you’re facing him like this, the tail end of your breath catches against his skin. The fizzy feeling escalates to a nervous rumble in his chest.

“Like I’m your hero.” He admits. “It’s a little scary- it’s so much to live up to. But it’s kind of exhilarating too. It makes me want to be the person you think I am.”

You stare at him in confusion.

“But you are-“ you protest.

“I’m not. I’m no hero. I’m a coward.” He admits. “I mess things up all the time and I always say the wrong thing when it comes to you. And I’ve been trying so hard to be that guy. The one who has it all together and knows exactly what to say when you’re upset and can fix problems with a flick of his fingers.” It’s weird to finally be voicing this all aloud. He’s thought it a lot- that the real him doesn’t live up to expectations. But he doesn’t think he’s ever had the courage to tell you. Perhaps this is what you meant- if you are his friend, he should have told you all of this long ago. “But I’m not that guy. No matter how hard I try I can’t seem to be that guy. And if I open up… If I tell you all those things… don’t I seem so much less than that cool hero?” He confesses. “And I guess this whole trip has made it worse. Every time I think I have a handle on things, we get kidnapped or shot at or have to jump off a bridge. I haven’t had a spare moment to even pretend to be that guy.” He looks at you. “And then you come along, and you’re sneaking into enemy camps and taking arrows to the shoulder and defeating evil forest spirits. How am I even supposed to compare? And if you can do all of that on your own, what am I meant to be? What am I supposed to be to you? How can I be your hero?” He wonders.

You stare at him in confusion. The rain starts to clear and a blade of sunlight cuts through the forest, catching the side of your face. It highlights the slope of your nose, the line of your cheekbones, the brightness of your eyes. In that moment, you aren’t his friend. You’re some ethereal, mystic being that feels a thousand miles out of reach.

“I... I don’t want any of that from you, Jin. I don’t want or need a hero.” You finally confess. Your gaze softens as you shuffle forward, and the mood between the two of you shifts a little bit. Something intangible thickens the air and Jin feels strangely short of breath. “I just want... I just want...” you trail away, breaking your gaze but the tension in the air doesn’t dissipate. Instead, it seems to thicken when Jin realises that he desperately wants to know what you’re going to say. What do you want from him? What is he to you? What do you want him to be to you?

“You.” The word is barely above a breath and Jin feels like he’s been punched in the stomach.

“M-me?” He stutters and he feels like a teenager with a crush with the way the tips of his ears go red and his face flushes hot.

“Yeah.” You say, nodding shyly, before meeting his gaze with determination. “I want my friend back, Jin. I like the guy who stuck glow in the dark stickers on my ceiling when I was homesick but I also like the guy who gets scared of bugs and can fit an entire slice of cake in his mouth in one go. That guy is better than any hero because he’s here with me. And that’s what you do, Jin. You’re always here with me, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted from you.” You admit.

The space between you is minuscule now- if Jin tilted his head just slightly forward, your noses would brush. This close, he can make out each individual lash framing your eyes. Every contour of your face is both familiar and unfamiliar; the air is electric. He recalls the way you had looked at him what feels like a lifetime ago, when he had realised your feelings. Are they still the same? Do you still like him even after seeing the pathetic person he is throughout this trip? If he tilted in and up and closed the gap between your lips, would you pull away or press forward? “I don’t want the guy who can fix things with a flick of his fingers. And I don’t want a hero. I want Kim Seokjin. It’s more fun to work things out together anyway.” You promise.

It’s weird that those words are so liberating. Like a huge weight he didn’t know he’s been carrying all these years has been lifted. He’s fought and run and panicked for so long. Perhaps even longer than this trip. Long before you started avoiding him. Because all this time, he’s been trying to live up to an image he doesn’t fit into. He thought that’s what he had to be, for your sake. If you were struggling, he’d have to be strong enough to pull you out. But, with the words that hover between you, he realises he doesn’t have to be all that. He just has to be himself. Here the two of you are, after facing every imaginable danger, and yet you think no less of him. You’re looking at him with that same, admiring look. The brightness has not dimmed despite your awareness of his vulnerability, of his weakness.

And in that moment, Jin knows. There’s no more denying or running. He can’t keep it up- you’ve meticulously dismantled every stone in the fortress he built against you. He stands alone in the battlefield of his heart- you’ve conquered and won. He remembers earlier, when he’d tried to assert that he’d only ever see you as family, and the thought is laughable now. A pathetic, desperate excuse to avoid admitting the very thing that terrifies him to the bone. But, now he’s ready to admit it- ready to acknowledge what you are to him.

“You’re not an obligation to me.” He blurts. “You’re not a duty and you’re not just some un-trained puppy. You’re so much more than that, (Y/N), and everything I do is because I care about you so much. I’m sorry if it didn’t come across that way. I’m just..” He pauses and swallows. “I.. I lo-“

“There you are!” Jungkook’s voice sings out, and Jin winces. “I was starting to think you’d left me! Don’t worry guys, I’ve saved the fungus.”

You blink over Jin’s shoulder to where Jungkook has gathered the small little mushrooms into his jacket, which he’s folded into a little makeshift sack, the mice trailing behind. And then your gaze shifts back to Jin and you smile.

“Guess it’s back to work.” You say, and your words are awfully cheerful considering Jin is currently considering murder. Jungkook doesn’t have a human identity yet- he could bury him in this realm, and no one would ever know. “Shall we work together?”

It’s a loaded question, Jin knows, and despite everything, he finds himself smiling as well.

“What other choice do I have?” He grumbles. “Let’s get home already.”

#castlebangtan #thebtswritersclub #kim seokjin x reader #jin x reader #seokjin x reader #writing

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mishastoesies · 4 years ago

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Tell me about your Cassie and dean comeback au!!!

OKAY SO

it’s 1996, dean winchester is 17 years old, and he, his father, and his little brother roll into Cape Girardeau, Missouri on a normal hunt, but become delayed when the impala starts experiencing problems. john takes the car to a local shop, and they need replacement parts that’ll have to be ordered in, and the local automotive parts factory closed down a few years back. their four-day stay becomes a four-month one. john is livid, but he checks them into the motel.

john’s sour mood drives dean to take sam out often - they go everywhere: the mall, local schools’ games, the skatepark. that last one is where he meets cassie robinson, who does a SICK skate trick right in front of him and makes him trip over himself. she laughs at him when she sees him staring, and introduces herself and her 5 best friends. dean is lovestruck as hell.

cassie and dean begin hanging out often - she drives a new baby blue BMW and picks dean up for dates in front of the motel. cassie’s friends all think she’s dating this bad boy loner type and warn her not to get hurt, but dean is legit the opposite; he’s completely disarmed by her, all of his artifices melt away and he becomes this quiet, sensitive guy who reads vonnegut in his spare time and carries her bags when they go shopping together.

and dean doesn’t treat cassie as just a fun summer fling or like The Party Girl either! he knows that she’s ambitious, angling for her chance to change the world. he knows about her love of b-list horror movies and sci-fi. they go to drive-ins together and dean tells her that he could totally beat up the Swamp Man if he ever saw one in real life, and cassie rolls her eyes at his tough guy act.

dean and cassie see each other as Kindred Spirits - cassie knows she’s meant for more than her small town, and she makes dean feel like he could be meant for more than hunting; he may not have sammy’s (very obvious, even at 13) brains, but he’s smart, and capable, and cassie calls him handsome in a tone that says she really means beautiful (and trust dean, there’s a difference), so... fuck it. that summer he gets his GED. cassie and sam throw him a little party in celebration while john’s out at a bar.

eventually, though, the impala does get fixed up, and dean tells cassie that he has to leave, and that he probably won’t be back. cassie, never a quitter, tells him that he doesn’t have to; he’s 17, she’s 18, they can run away together! she committed to Tulane, they can get out, be free! and dean honest-to-god wants to, he wants to so bad, but... then he remembers john’s drunken rages and how sam may be a teenager now but he’s still his baby brother... and he says no. and cassie calls him a coward, says that they’re over, and he knows she’s right. and he hops in the impala with his dad and his brother and leaves.

(they see each other once more, when they’re both nine years more world-weary and that much more trapped by the expectations of those around them, and they resign themselves to thinking that it was a coincidence, and that it really was the last time)

but then!! but THEN!! YEARS LATER when dean has gone to hell and come back and stopped more apocalypses than most!! and cassie has gone on to get her PhD and is happily married to someone who’s stable and safe and everything dean isn’t, they meet AGAIN.

it’s even MORE of a freak chance - dean, cas, and jack are on a family roadtrip together, and cassie just happens to be in the same diner as them that day; dean sees her first - “cassie?” “dean?” “you look... really good.” “wish i could say the same” “shut up” “so who’s your friend? and who’s the kid?” and they catch up, and they realize that... they both got what they wanted. cassie got out and made something of herself, dean got out and had a home, and they’re... happy for each other! they really are! their summer together will always be a good memory, but seeing each other all grown up and finally fulfilled in life, that’s something they can treasure in the present day.

of course they keep in touch - duh - and jack becomes friends with cassie’s daughter because of course he does, and cas and cassie get along so well it’s scary. they are at the exact same level of Indulging Dean Because He’s A Dork. also cassie absolutely calls dean out. “really? we break up and then you find someone named cas?” “well it’s more like he found me...” “uh huh, sure. just say you have a type”

and anyways these are only a fraction of my thoughts on deancassie’s doomed summer romance i could get into so many more specific moments but this is already so long

#asks #queenofmoons

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icarusinstatic · 4 years ago

Text

The Mobius & Sylvie Roadtrip Fic is done.

It’ll All Come Out in the Wash

Summary: Sylvie doesn’t know what she did to deserve this (yes she does), but she’s sorry, she promises (no she’s not). The obligatory episode 5 road trip fic featuring, jealous Mobius and completely done Sylvie Laufeydottir.

Notes: Took a little longer than expected, but the road trip fic that no one asked for. For those of you who are very pro Sylvie/Loki this fic is not for you, just a heads up.

Read below or here at AO3

“I really wanted to hate you, you know.”

Sylvie looked up at Mobius meeting his eyes in the rearview mirror while the other man drove them both back towards the giant matter-eating cloud.

“Why? Because I’ve killed your fellow brainwashed TVA friends?” Sylvie didn’t much care for the answer either way, though the thought that this man didn’t hate her was curious. This was the man who went off with her fellow variant, but who hadn’t been there when she came upon Loki at the elevator for their meeting with the so-called TimeKeepers and Sylvie couldn’t stop the feeling of impotent rage from swelling up in her chest every time she thought about the moment after she had beheaded the animatronic monstrosity. But she quelled that rage with a deep sigh and thought about the variant who was as close as a brother to her.

Loki. When she had come up to him at the elevator there had been something deeply wrong with him. At the time he couldn’t say what had transpired between their last meeting and then, but seeing Mobius, as he had asked to be called, in the void Sylvie could guess.

Loki had appeared more devastated than simple questioning by TVA grunts would warrant. He’d radiated an absolute devastation Sylvie hadn’t let herself feel since just after she had escaped the TVA as a child. When she realized that she would never, could never go back to her home and to her people.

Mobius held her stare for a moment before focusing his eyes back on the road. There was an anger there that Sylvie wasn’t sure how to interpret. Yes, she had killed people that this man had known, but this — this was something entirely different. Mobius, he looked like Sylvie had taken something from him personally.

It was quiet for a couple more minutes before, “No. I’m not happy about that, but that’s not why I wanted to hate you.” Mobius eyed her for a second before continuing. “But I can’t, because you're you and I’ve never been able to bring myself to hate a Loki variant in my life.” Mobius looked up at the rearview mirror again making sure to maintain eye contact with Sylvie before continuing, “I just want to know that you won’t hurt him.”

“Hurt who? Listen TVA flunky, I don’t know what the hell you're talking about, but make yourself clear before I throw you out of this car and find my way to whoever is behind the TVA myself.” Sylvie was quickly beginning to lose patience with the conversation. She had more important things to do than listen to whatever bullshit TVA flunky had to say about hurting people.

Sylvie had hurt more people in her life than she cared to think about and the way her day was going she would hurt more people before her mission was over.

Mobius sighed deeply, then looked as if he were steeling himself, a vein jumping in his temple, before answering. “Loki, I want to know that you won’t hurt him.”

“Oh, of all the idiotic things we don’t have time for, this is the worst.” Sylvie couldn’t believe that she was getting the don’t hurt him conversation from a damn TVA agent right now. “He’s probably already dead,” and didn’t that send a stab of pain through her heart, “Why do you even care flunky?”

Sylvie expected Mobius to give her some self-righteous bullshit answer about how of course he cared because he was a good person or some such nonsense about how the TVA cared about the well-being of everyone in the Sacred Timeline and they had all been part of that timeline at some point. Sylvie had heard it all from the minutemen she ran into, though they were more likely to go straight into attempting to prune her. The thing is, she was expecting a non-answer and for them to go on with the plan after a few minutes of one-sided awkward silence — she was never awkward about anything, but her traveling companion seemed to be made up of awkwardness if the previous few minutes of conversation held up.

What Sylvie wasn’t expecting was for Mobius to suddenly slam on the breaks.

Hard.

Before she could voice her objections to this new brand of idiocy Mobius turned around in his seat after bringing the car to a stop and held up his hand for silence, finger pointed right in front of Sylvie’s nose. She considered biting it off if the next words out his mouth proved irritating enough.

Hell she might do it anyways. This was taking too much time and she could probably make up a good enough lie about not seeing the TVA agent if she ran into Loki — not that she would admit to hoping to see the other variant of herself again.

She couldn’t afford to hope he was alive — couldn’t afford the disappointment.

“Three things.” Mobius’s pale face was slightly flushed his frustration with the situation so great. Sylvie wondered how he had dealt with Loki if he was this easily flustered. “One, Loki isn’t dead. I know it.”

“How” Great, Sylvie was riding with a hopeless optimist.

“I just do. After all of this, he can’t be dead. Okay?” Mobius barely gave her a chance to roll her eyes at him before continuing. “Two, of course I care. Loki is my friend and I know that he can be anything he wants to be, even if the things he chooses to do aren’t my favorite. And three, why wouldn’t you care? I thought you two were in love? I mean,” He paused seeming to pull himself together a hint of something flashing behind his eyes too quick for Sylvie to make out, “I just don’t want you to hurt him, okay. Can you promise me that?”

Sylvie didn’t say anything for a minute, her brain had shut down after Mobius had claimed that she was in love with Loki or that he may be in love with her because — “What are you talking about in love? Are you high Mobius? Or did you just hit your head too hard when you landed hear after being pruned?”

Annoyance clouded Mobius’s features, annoyance that turned into real anger the longer Sylvie spoke.

“You and Loki are in love! Don’t try to dodge the issue. It’s what caused the nexus event on Lamentis-1.” Mobius leveled her with a glower, his jaw tightening enough that Sylvie thought she could see a vein jumping in his neck.

Sylvie would be impressed by the other man’s glower if she wasn’t so busy being vaguely nauseous at the thought of being in love with a variant of herself. Loki wasn’t so bad to deal with, but god they were far to similar to ever have a chance at loving each other. Sylvie may be a hedonist, but even she had her limits.

“I have never heard someone be so wrong so fast about something in my life, and I just came from dealing with Judge Renslayer, so you know that’s saying something.”

Mobius looked like he was about to interrupt with something even more asinine than what he’d already said but Sylvie held up her hand to prematurely cut him off.

“No Mobius, you will let me finish. Now, hear me when I tell you this.” Sylvie took an unneeded breath before continuing, “I don’t know where you got the idea that Loki and I were ‘in love,’” and Sylvie couldn’t stop her self from using air quotes if she wanted to, which she didn’t. “But that’s definitely not a thing and I know that Loki wouldn’t think it’s a possibility either. I don’t know what caused the nexus event on Lamentis, but it definitely wasn’t that so your sources were wrong. Who did come up with that idea anyways?”

Instead of answering her, Mobius frowned to himself before seeming to come to a decision a hint of relief causing his features to lose some of the irritated fire behind his eyes. Sylvie wasn’t sure, but it looked like his eyes had lightened up a bit when she had denied being in love with Loki. Oh hello there.

“Well, okay then,” Mobius started, clearly trying to come to terms with what Sylvie had just told him, but before he could finish she cut him off.

“Wait, wait, wait, I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out sooner,” This day just kept getting weirder and weirder. Never before would Sylvie have thought she’d be having this conversation with a mustachioed TVA agent in her life. “You like him don’t you?”

“Who?” Mobius asked, a frown making his eyebrows scrunch in confusion.

This man had some nerve to even pretend to be confused about this right now.

Sylvie was just about done with this whole situation.

“Who? Are you kidding me right now?” She couldn’t help but hiss out in irritation. Why was she surrounded by fools all the time. First Loki and now possibly one of his princes. Though why Loki would even choose to associate with this man was beyond her. The romantic fool had terrible taste in men and in plans.

Mobius just waited for Sylvie to come to terms with the situation, or perhaps he was wondering how best to ruin her day more. Sylvie couldn’t begin to care which option it really was though.

After this, Loki owed her one and Sylvie was going to collect.

“Listen to me TVA Flunky, and listen good. I’m going to ask you a question and you will tell me the truth,” Sylvie ground out between gritted teeth.

She waited until Mobius silently nodded, eyeing her apprehensively as he did.

Good. She was getting far too tired of these juvenile games as it was.

“Loki. Are you in love with him. Yes or no?”

Sylvie thought for a moment that she would have to get creative in getting answers out of the other man, but before she could do anything other than seriously consider maiming him Mobius nodded silently and waited for her reaction.

“Have you told him about how you feel?”

Another silent answer, but this time a shake of the head. Mobius pursed his lips in quiet agitation obviously unwilling to comment further.

Well too bad. Because Sylvie had had more than enough of this nonsense and she was putting a stop to it now.

“And why the hell not? Loki is the most romantic idiot I have ever come across.” Sylvie didn’t bother to raise her eyes at Mobius in irritation when the man had the nerve to start looking jealous again. “Don’t look at me like that. I told you, it’s never going to happen between Loki and I. I just mean that within 2 hours of meeting him I could tell that he was in love with someone already. Did you know that he had the nerve to tell me love was like a dagger? Of of the ridiculous metaphors I’ve heard that one takes the cake.”

“Love is like a what now?” Mobius had an amused almost fond look on his face, as if he were remembering something.

“Oh, finally he speaks. A dagger, you idiot. He said love was like a dagger.” Here she leveled her most fearsome glare at Mobius. “Now, why would Loki ever come up with something so stupid and trite as that I ask you.”

Mobius was full on grinning now, “It’s just, before we headed to Roxxcart I tried to give Loki his daggers back so that he wouldn’t be entirely defenseless if we ran into you.”

Oh he had it bad, didn’t he?

Sylvie couldn’t stop herself from laughing if she wanted to.

“Wait, you mean to tell me that you tried to give a Loki variant a weapon? Oh, I’m sure your superiors loved you for that. Tell me, how long did they let him keep them?”

“I didn’t want him to be unarmed, I know how dangerous you guys can be.” Mobius had the good grace to look abashed, and he really was sort of perfect for Loki wasn’t he? “Anyways, Hunter B-15 took the daggers off Loki just as soon as I handed them to him.”

“You do know that he has magic right? I mean that couldn’t have escaped your notice?” Sylvie wasn’t trying to beat a dead horse here, but the thought of anyone with the TVA wanting a Loki armed was just too much for her.

There was a beat of silence before Mobius nodded a light flush rising to his cheeks. “I may have... forgotten that fact in the moment.”

She couldn’t believe it, they really did deserve each other.

“Okay, okay, one last thing and then we can get on with things.” Sylvie didn’t stop herself from crowing with delight in her head when Mobius reared back at the sudden emergence of her short sword just inches from his neck. Loki wasn’t the only one good with a magic trick after all.

He shot her a not all surprised look, but there was definite disappointment lurking in his eyes.

“I really thought we were having a moment there, Sylvie.”

A moment, sure.

“Calm down, Flunky”

She ignored the muttered, “It’s Mobius actually,” from the other man.

“I want you to promise me that you’ll tell Loki how you feel when we find him again. And damn you for making me think we will, by the way.”

Mobius frowned, “But what if he doesn’t feel the same way? I don’t want to scare him off, and don’t tell me Loki’s don’t get scared. I’ve studied you all, I know that you do.”

Sylvie considered setting the other man straight, for her own piece of mind. Maybe other Loki’s got scared, but she had trained herself out feeling that over a long period of living in the midst of apocalypses.

Well, okay, mostly at least.

“If there’s one think I know about our Loki, it’s that he’s a lovesick idiot. I didn’t know exactly who he was infatuated with when I first met him, but seeing him after you were pruned really opened my eyes. I’ve never seen a Loki more devastated and I never want to again.” Sylvie paused and considered her words for a moment before plunging ahead. “You know how lucky we were that being pruned wasn’t our end? This may be your only chance to tell him, so promise me that when we find Loki you’ll let him know how you feel.”

Sylvie absently brought her short sword back into it’s place at her side waiting for his answer.

“This may be the first and only pep talk I’ve ever gotten from a Loki variant,” He paused at her murderous glare, “From a Sylvie at least. But yes, you didn’t even have to threaten me with that sword. I’ll tell him.

Thank goodness for that, it would make things infinitely easier for her if she didn’t need to worry about a jealous TVA agent after her. That was all this was, after all. Just looking after her own interests.

Liar.

“Good, now that that’s out of the way, can we please go find the giant cloud monster. Knowing Loki he’s already found his way there ahead of us, and the idiot needs all the help he can get.”

“Aye, aye, captain.” Mobius turned back towards the front of the car to start it up again, just before he started driving he flashed a thankful smile at the rear view mirror at her.

#Lokius #sylvie laufeydottir #mobius m mobius #Loki #my writing #I haven’t seen the finale #but I’ve spoiled myself all to hell #I don’t know how to feel about it #but I’m disappointed that Casey still doesn’t #know what a fish is #come on marvel

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maybedefinitely404 · 5 years ago

Text

American Dream

Genre: angst with a happy ending/fluff

Pairing: romantic Dukexiety

World: just-out-of-high-school AU

Content: homophobia, threatened abuse from parents (no actual violence), extreme cold, getting kicked out, minor religious talk, getting outed, AIDS and death mention, fluffy Dukexiety because my heart needs it.

Word count: 2.3k

Comments: She doesn’t have Tumblr, but I need to give a shout out to my kiddo for proof reading and beta-ing most of my fics. She pushes me to write more, and even if she won’t see this, I just need to say it.

This fic is inspired by the song American Dream by MKTO.

Please pick up, please pick up, please pick up…

The night coolness spread through Virgil like a sickness. It was unforgiving, toxic, seeped with the memories of the evening that curled through his stomach in dark tendrils. Below his bare feet, the sidewalk burned in the way that only ice does, small pebbles digging into his soles. He would do anything for socks. God, why hadn’t he grabbed socks?

Probably for the same reason he hadn’t grabbed shoes.

Please pick up, please pick up, c’mon, pick up already!

His eyes hurt. They already burned with unshed tears that he’d still been too scared to release, and the cool air didn’t help. Crying on the street was a vulnerability he wasn’t ready to face. His lungs burned. He’d been sprinting non-stop for who knows how long. His own panicked gulps for air and the all-too-loud hum of a blinking streetlight were the only sound on the silent street. Virgil had been watching the moths swarm at the fixture for who knows how long, finding odd solace in the fact that at least there was still some life in the darkness. They were still alive, untouched, same as they were yesterday and probably the same as they would be tomorrow, unfazed by the complete turmoil his life had become. And that was somewhat comforting.

“Virgie, you okay? It’s almost midnight!”

Thank fucking god. He opened his mouth to speak, to explain to Remus what had happened. Obviously, Remus would care. That wasn’t a doubt in his mind; that was the only reason he wasn’t anxious as all fuck right now… about the call, that is. He was anxious about approximately everything else. But as soon as the first noise made its way past his lips, the first utterance of a plea for help, everything that he’d been holding back burst forth like a broken dam. He clamped his hand over his mouth, trying to muffle the loud sobbing that he suddenly couldn’t contain.

“Shit. Virgil, what happened? I’m coming over. Are you at home?”

That’s the issue. “No,” he gasped, mildly surprised he hadn’t crushed the phone with the way his grip tightened, “I got kicked out.”

“What the fuck?!”

Virgil flinched. “Can… can you come p-pick me up? I’m at the corner of Jackson and Pullard. Please, please, come get me…”

“Yes. Absolutely. I’m on my way. Stay there, okay?”

Virgil hung up reluctantly after agreeing, not wanting his boyfriend to drive while on the phone, even if Remus gladly would have done it. In fact, he’d used to do it all the time; text, eat, do his makeup, all while cruising down the freeway. He’d only put a stop to it when he saw how much it affected Virgil.

He counted down the minutes on his phone, always having been nitpicky with times, knowing that it shouldn’t take Remus more than ten minutes to get there. If he remembered correctly where he was at the moment, that is. Remus had gotten kicked out of his parents’ house in his senior year of high school after a bad fight. They’d never really been great parents, always showing favoritism towards his brother (amongst other things), and he was more than willing to leave. Virgil had tried to beg his parents to let Remus stay with them, but they’d downright refused, calling him a bad influence and a string of other insults that Virgil didn’t even like to think about. God forbid what would happen if they found out the two were dating.

…Well, they did now. And God hadn’t exactly forbidden what they’d done.

But Remus hadn’t had a solid place to live since it had happened almost a year ago. He couch surfed for a while, bouncing between some old friends who had now gone off to college, or just lived in his car. He’d made it work, and had claimed to Virgil that he actually didn’t mind it that much. If he was telling the truth, Virgil wasn’t sure. He’d saved up some money and bought an inflatable mattress that filled up his back seat area, and Virgil was able to give him his family’s old camping stove by convincing them they lost it. It’s not like they’d gone camping since he was a kid, anyways. Last he’d checked, Janus was home for break and Remus was staying with him for the two weeks he was in town, but those two weeks were probably pretty close to done. Unfortunately, Virgil and Janus had never gotten along, so Remus didn’t bring him up. It was a mutual understanding.

As soon as Remus’ car pulled up to the curb, ten minutes on the dot, Virgil basically flung himself into the passenger seat. The car was warm, so so warm, he almost cried again, this time in relief. Remus pulled back onto the road as soon as he was buckled on.

“Vee, what happened?” It wasn’t hard to guess, there were only so many reasons his parents would have to kick him out. He’d narrowed it down to his parent’s finally having it with Virgil’s tattoo artist dream, or… well…

“Someone at my mom’s work found my Instagram. She went up to my mom, basically started gushing about ‘how handsome I was with my boyfriend’. Specifically the picture of us at Pride from a couple years ago.”

“Ah.” Remus knew the picture well. He’d printed it out and it was pinned to the inside of his sun visor.

“Yeah. Mom called my dad, they were both waiting when I got home. Had screenshots and everything. They grilled me about ‘dishonoring God’ and ‘throwing away my life’. Said I was gonna get AIDS. Die before twenty five. Ya know. The whole lecture.”

Remus didn’t. Surprisingly, him being gay was not a concern of his parent’s. His brother was gay too, and they didn’t give a rat’s ass about that. He nodded along anyways.

“They went on for so long. It was insane. Then they dropped the whole ‘you’re not our son’ thing-” Virgil’s voice cracked, but he swallowed around the lump in his throat and continued, “I figured this is where it was leading to, them kicking me out? I thought they’d give me time to pack, though. Except my dad started getting physical-”

“HE WHAT?!” Remus was tempted to turn the fucking car around and drive to Virgil’s house, just to give his parents a piece of his mind. He was fuming; fuck, he hadn’t been this mad in a while.

“Relax, Rem. I got out before he could actually land a hit. That’s why I don’t have anything with me. I had to run.”

“Doesn’t make it any better.”

“I know.” Virgil pulled his feet up onto the seat cross legged, trying to rub some feeling back into them. Luckily, they weren’t bleeding, just cold as hell. That was one less thing to worry about. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“Of course, Vi,” Remus’ voice had taken on a softer edge that he rarely allowed anyone to see, and he reached over to take one of Virgil’s hands into his own, “Speaking of which, why were you on Jackson? That’s, what, three miles away from your house?”

“When I say I ran, I mean literally. I was scared they would follow me.” Virgil shrugged, as if the statement wasn’t the most heartbreaking thing Remus had ever heard. “I wasn’t thinking clearly, I just ran. That’s why it took me so long to realize I should call you.”

Remus sighed, letting his thumb run against Virgil’s knuckles. “You don’t have to act all brave, Vi.”

“I don’t think I ever saw you cry when you got kicked out.”

“That’s because I didn’t love my parents. I honestly didn’t. I know your parents mean a lot to you. And I’m sorry it went down like it did.”

It was the truth, but he honestly didn’t want to think about it right now. What kind of loving family kicks out their child? Virgil took a shaky breath in and mumbled, “Can we talk about it tomorrow?”

“Okay. Let’s talk about something else. What’s our plan?”

Virgil was quiet for a long moment, as if deep in thought. He watched the scenery fade from his suburban area of town to the darker, rural parts of the town’s edge, not knowing or caring where they were driving. The escape from street lights was nice. “Why do we need a plan?”

Remus’ eyebrows shot up at the sudden playful tone in Virgil’s words. “Oh?”

“I mean, is anything really holding us here?”

“My, my,” Remus crooned, pulling into an empty lot and parking in the furthest spot from the street, “I thought I was the impulsive one.”

“I’m serious, Rem!” Virgil laughed, swatting lightly at Remus’ hand. The happy sound was like music to his ears. “I’m dead serious! What’s keeping us here?”

“Patton? Logan?”

“Both across the country. And you know they’re considering staying there when they graduate.” Janus’ name was an understood thing. They both knew his school was barely an hour from the other two. Even if Virgil couldn’t stand the guy, he knew that Remus and Janus went far back. Judging by Remus’ slowly brightening expression, he could assume that Janus would probably be down to stay there as well.

“Work?”

“I work at Walmart. They won’t miss me. Try again.”

Remus scrunched his eyebrows almost thoughtfully, even though this was maybe the easiest decision he’d ever had to make. Plus, they both knew Remus didn’t really ‘think’ in general. “It almost sounds like you want to take a roadtrip, my little emo.”

Virgil scrunched his nose at the nickname, but let a wider smile spread across his tear stained cheeks. “I kind of do.”

Remus shut the car off, turning to his boyfriend with a shit eating grin. “I like this new side of you.”

“Well…” Virgil’s voice turned sheepish under the almost cheshire cat level expression, “Should we?”

“Let’s make up our minds tomorrow.” Remus stated, gesturing to the mattress behind him, “Sleep for tonight. You must be exhausted, coming up with ideas like this.”

Virgil grumbled under his breath, something about ‘not being a baby’, but clambered into the backseat after Remus, double checking the locks on the doors as he went. The air mattress was comfier than he thought it would be, and it was only made better when Remus pulled him in like a teddy bear, tugging a blanket over them. They both sighed in contentment, then promptly burst out laughing at the synchronicity.

“Oh my god, what have we become?” Remus gasped, pulling Virgil in closer nonetheless. Virgil snorted in response, looking up to meet Remus’ eyes through a haze of sudden exhaustion and amusement. The laughter died down slowly as they both gave in to their fatigue, finishing the day with a slow kiss that left them both breathless. Virgil fell asleep with plans forming and circulating through his mind, the rest of the evening almost forgotten.

--------------------------------------------

His parents were at work, and Virgil knew their kitchen window didn’t lock properly, which was what led to him stuffing everything he could into a black duffel bag while Remus kept watch from his car. He wasn’t too concerned about the parents coming home, but it gave him ample time to look over the map he’d bought from the gas station that morning and plan a route. He didn’t want to admit that his leg was shaking from pure excitement. This idea had been somewhere in the back of his mind for a long time, but he knew Virgil valued his relationship with his family and liked being near them, so he never brought it up. Granted, the situation wasn’t great, but he considered this ‘making the best of it’. A twisted paradise.

He barely flinched as his trunk was thrown open and Virgil threw his bag inside before hopping back into his seat.

“Okay, so how about we drive up to Maine, apparently the sea food is legendary! Then we cut back through Ohio. There’s literally nothing in Ohio, but we can cross it off the list at least! And then-”

Virgil laughed, cutting him off, “I thought we weren’t planning!”

“Well, we need at least a rough idea,” Remus said with a pout, “What we do there and how long we stay, that’s up to impulse. I was thinking we should try to get through all the states, wouldn’t that be cool?”

Virgil could only nod, leaning forward to kiss Remus again. “Sounds amazing,” he murmured, so close they were almost touching. They’d talked to Logan and Patton earlier that morning, and they were equally as excited for the two of them. Remus had called Janus while Virgil was packing, quickly explaining the situation (and also why Remus had disappeared in the middle of the night), and Janus supported it. Made sense, since he was almost as impulsive as Remus. Plus, he was going back to school in a couple days, so it didn’t make much of a difference. That said, they still didn’t have a time limit. Their friends were just starting second semester, meaning they could schedule themselves to arrive in California for summer break, or they could spend longer on the road. But schedules are for chumps.

As they rolled out of the quaint neighborhood Virgil had grown up in, Remus reached down and took his hand again. “Say goodbye to white picket fences.” And god, the joyful expression on Virgil’s face was enough to make him melt.

By the time they hit the freeway, they were both nearly shaking with anticipation. Virgil stuck his hands out the sunroof, the wind whipping through his hair, and let out a whoop that was almost contagious. This was the start of something amazing, they both felt it.

Cali, here we come.

#lywrites #sanderssidesfanfiction #sanderssides #dukexiety

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aobawilliams · 4 years ago

Text

First Line Tag Game!!

I was tagged by @idontonlytalkaboutdcmk

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line, then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

I’ll try to go from more recent to older (date of the creation of the doc will be written in MM/YYYY format), but this might not correspond to the time the sentence was actually written. (I might have missed some stuff but, oh well, whatever.)

1- (04/2021) Aizawa meets Izuku AU (MHA, OS in progress)

It was luck that brought Shouta here.

2- (03/2021) Vigilante Yagi AU (MHA, in-progress, either a long-fic or a serie of OS)

All Might has been a hero longer than he has ever been Yagi Toshinori.

3- (02/2021) Dad For All AU (MHA, various blurb on tumblr so far, most likely a longfic)

Izuku was trying really hard not to panic. One second he was fighting a villain with a still unknown quirk, the next he found himself __ years in the past, according to the news report currently going on TV.

4- (02/2021) Midoriya Inko’s Guide To Good Parenthood (MHA, in progress, probably a serie of OS?)

Midoriya Inko isn’t anything special. She's 30 going on 52, has a really bad case of anxiety, can and will cry for any reasons, and has gotten so many grey hair from her son's shenanigans its a wonder she still has green hair.

5- (12/2020) The Kids Will Be Alright (DCMK, spin-off of Sharpen Your Knives)

Ran was running. Fast, fast, faster, not fast enough. She put all her strength in her legs, went as fast as she could.

6- (11/2020) Before the coffee gets cold - The Sisters (DCMK, OS published on AO3)

It was probably foolish of her to come back to this place. But, on the off chance that the rumours were true, she wanted to give it a chance.

7- (11/2020) Sharpen Your Knives (DCMK, in-progress longfic, won’t be published for a long while)

Shinichi has no idea how things could have gone so wrong, so quickly.

8- (08/2020) The Time Travel Road Trip Case (DCMK, spin-off of Who The F- Is This) (technically not the first lines, but it’s the first part I’ve written)

Shinichi(Conan) felt someone lift him up from the back, he turned his face as he came level with their chest, one look at their face and…

Well, guess he found KID.

9- (06/2020) Who The F- Is This (DCMK, longfic in progress, the first chapters are on AO3)

Shinichi’s head was throbbing. He felt like someone was playing drums with his head. What has happened?

10- (06/2020) Harrinichi Kupotter (DCMK & Harry Potter x-over, longfic in progress)

Shinichi doesn't really believe in superior beings, gods or the supernatural. So far everything in his life could be explained by science and very human tricks.

11- (03/2019) Naobuza & Raphtaku AU (The Rising of the Shield Hero & Naruto x-over, an old baby I keep coming back to)

If you were to ask anyone to tell you about Naofumi Iwatani, those who remember him would tell you that he’s a weird kid. There’s something otherwordly about him, as if he was evolving in a totally different universe from them.

12- (01/2019) The self-indulgent FMA TT au (FMA, an old project that I should go back to, someday)

Somehow, sometimes, Ed felt like there was some being out there, out for him.

13- (01/2019) Nanadaime time travel AU (Naruto, will most likely be an OS, one day I will finish it enough to post it on AO3)

It was a late night In the Hokage office, one of many. As was usual by now, the Hokage was filling paperwork at his desk, his right-hand-man filling his own number of files at his side.

14- (11/2018) Baby Ed saving the world with hugs and punches (FMA, an old project that I will go back to)

On a warm night during the summer of 2005, as the sun left it’s place for the shining stars, Edward Elric went to sleep for the last time besides his lovely wife, in the house he has rebuilt with his own two hands.

15- (06/2018) The roadtrip 03Ed never knew he needed (FMA03/CoS & Fantastic Beasts and where to find them x-over, a serie of OS)

He wasnt sure what brought him back here.

Maybe he just wanted to make sure Envy was dead, one monster less in this world. Or maybe he just wanted to make sure there was no way between both world (no way to go home.)

16- (04/2018) Badass Women Roleswap AU (FMA, I still sometime go back to it, will most likely be a serie of OS)

Ed didn’t have many memories of his father. He could remember a tall man, who always looked sad. A giant who always had trouble when it came to holding him and his brother. A figure always working in his study. A person who always looked sad when teaching them alchemy.

17- (03/2018) FMA TT fic I wasnt planning to expend (FMA, old project, I will get back to it.) (it is, also, the first fanfic idea I got when I got back into writing fics)

Nothing happened as it should have been. No matter everything they’ve done to try and stop him, the dwarf in the flask still managed to bypass it all and, in some way, reach his goal.

And that’s pretty much it for any written stuff I got (anything else is too old)

Bonus: A la recherche du canard (Looking for the duck) - it’s an old assignment I had for french class, where we had to pick an article and write a short story based on it. (When I say old, I mean it’s from 2012 - it’s a good way to see how far I’ve come). It’s honestly really bad but I did have a lot of fun back then. (This is a translated from french version btw) (yes I stole names from Hetalia I was always terrible at finding names for characters)

The sun shined upon the sleeping man face, who opened his bright blue eyes. He got up suddenly, throwing his blanket on the ground. Today would be the day where he, Alfred F. Jones, Yorkville police officer, would accomplish his mission: keeping an eye on the annual fair set-up.

So, observations: You can very clearly see me go through various fandom phases it’s funny. Also my naming skills for the AUs got slightly better (but not that much.) I do tend to drop a name (usually the person from whom the POV is) in those first sentences. The first paragraph tend to get shorter with time (which might simply be because I realised I tend to lose focus when it gets too long.) I also never start on dialogue, generally I go for the POV’s thought uh.

I do quite like the ones for the Vigilante Yagi AU and the Midoriya Inko’s guide, The Kids Will Be Alright too. Badass Women I like it but also am not 100% happy with it.

This mostly made me want to share even more about these stories to y’all.

Anyway! Tagging @whoever wants to do it! I’m not sure whom I follow has already done it/been tagged or not, uuuuhhh, maybe @artistfingers ? If you’re a writer and wants to do it then go for it and tag me I guess.

#cro shouts into the void #tag game #i accidentally lost the first draft and had to do it again and I Am Not Mad #(it's a lie i am a little bit mad)#also if you want to know more about any of those please send me an ask

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dachi25writes · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter One: Up North

AEGON I

It felt surreal.

Blond hair and violet eyes– just like his own– stared vacantly into the ceiling. Pale skin, translucent in the fluorecent lights.

Just a nightmare, any minute now he would wake up in the station, have some of that tasteless but nutricious space food, don his spacesuit and go out to the surface of the moon to collect data he would later send to his father…

His dead father who seemed to be staring right through him, body stiff as the metalic table he laid on, his lashes still frosted, lips blue.

What was he thinking? Going up to the North like that without proper equipment or a guide of any kind, it was not like him at all, but maybe things hadn’t gone as he planned, maybe he had been forced to–

Aegon turned around just as his sister apologized for his distracted behavior and signed for the body to be discharged so it could be sent back home. Gods, it had been almost 6 years since he had last seen Dragonstone, he remembered the salty air and ashen grey sand so cool to the touch you could lie there even on the hottest summer day.

[[MORE]]

The memory was enough to make him smile, wan and melancholy for he did not– could not - forget the circumstances in which he was going back.

Rhaenys touched his arm, gently almost tentative “C'mon Egg, we have to go”

He nodded and walked along, she was very diferent from the sister he remembered, not taller though he coludn’t be sure with the heels she was wearing but the way she carried herself was diferent. She used to slouch, father always tried to correct her posture. Rain never cared to try though, she still slouched a little, it was only noticeable in a slight bend of her shoulders, but that didn’t take away from her overall air of confidence, she didn’t have much of that back then; most shocking of all, her hair was long, she really hated long hair would chop it off herself if mom refused to take her to the hair saloon “It’s been a long time”

She sighed “ I know”

"Where’s mom?”

“She’s back at the hotel I did not think it would be right to bring her here”

He nodded, of course she couldn’t bring mom to the body deposit, Rhaenys would never risk to upset her “How- how did she take it?, about Dad I mean, did you tell her yet?”

As soon as they were out of the building Rhaenys opened her purse and got out a cigarette and a lighter, she offered him one but he refused waiting for her answer as she put the cigarette between lips, gave it a long drag and exhaled the smoke slowly.

“Of course I told her” she answerered at last “C'mon Egg, I’ll give you a ride I parked just around the block”

He nodded and followed “And how did she take it?”

Rhaenys shrugged “She took it well all things considered, said we should have visited Dad some time and other stuff, you know how she is, but I think she is looking forward to seeing us all again”

He grabbed her arm “You called them?” he couldn’t belive Rhaenys! she was family but them… if they came at all it would only be to gloat.

She raised her eyebrow at him and shook his grip with ease “Didn’t need to, it’s all over the news, also from what I know Mr. Connington called us, well he sent this really long e-mails but you get the idea, didn’t you get one?”

He shook his head , dumbfounded “I don’t know, I really haven’t got the chance to catch up. Mr. Connington commed me at the station and I just had to get here” actually he never even expected to see Rhaenys here. He hoped she would at least go to the funeral, Mr. Connington was arranging at Dragonstone, but this… He felt anger claw at his belly, like oil on a sizzling pan the heat thretened to jump in every direction, he held it in, gods he was so out of shape.

Breath in, 1, 2, 3�� Exhale. Keep focus.

And it passed.

Rhaenys studied his face, really seeing him for the frist time since they had started talking

"Fuck Egg you look like shit!”

He shrugged but felt self conscious nonetheless, Father had always insisted to always keep a good image for the Academy’s sake. He ran a hand through his short buzzcut, and dragged it all the way down to his face, he was so, so tired.

The car was a small old looking thing of a vibrant orange color, Rhaenys opened the passanger’s door for him as if he hadn’t enough strenght to do it himself.

“Where you staying at?”

"Well as I said I haven’t really–”

“ 'Kay so that means you are coming with me, we rented a room with two beds but I guess mom and I can share,it’s just a night anyway.”

He had half a mind to protest but he was just too tired to go around town looking for some place to stay so he just stayed silent.

Rhaneys started the car and soon enough they were at some cheap-looking but cozy motel called “Winterfell” which wasn’t surprising at all , he had seen at least 10 different stores with the same name since they left the morgue, according to his sister everyone had the Stark fever around here and wanted to be part of the ancestral noble house.

“For real” she said between giggles “I pulled over for some gas on the way here and the guy at the station told me he was a distant relative of the Stark, but not only him the hotel clerk, the barista at Manderly’s and they all say it in this really secret conspiratorial way. It’s kinda sweet really, now I get why Robb insisted we should do a roadtrip here, I can practically see his smug face when he mentioned he was an actual Stark”

Her laugh stopped, and became a bitter sigh.

Aegon wished he could say something but he knew he would most likely say the wrong thing and he just wasn’t up for a fight.His sister parked and proceeded to rest her forhead on the steering wheel, brown curls obscuring her face.

“Sorry Egg, I just can’t help thinking about Robb when we are here. He was always talking about Winterfell and I just-”

“It’s fine” he tried to be nonchalant about it but he felt uncomfortable, he had never been particularly close to Robb, he did like him though. Robb was one of those people you inevitably admire, but after he died everything went to shit at the Academy, everyone blamed Dad for it even Rhaenys, Aegon had been the only one that stayed after that. He knew it was pretty shitty to blame Robb for dying but if he hadn’t maybe…

“God I am such a jerk” Rhaenys lifted her face enough to look at him “I haven’t even asked if you have talked to Sansa or–?”

“I haven’t” he pressed his mouth into a thin line, he didn’t want to talk about this with Rhaenys now or ever really. “You know what? The space travel is really catching up on me so I better go rest like you said”

He opened the door and practically slammed it shut when it dawned on him he had no idea of the room number and he had to wait for Rhaenys. Fuck! just after he had stormed out of the car like a broody asshole(Jon’s asshole face flashed briefly in his mind), the day couldn’ t get worse really.

Fortunately Rhaenys let him save some dignity and got out of the car calmly as if nothing had happened but in her eyes so alike mom’s he could see worry.

"Sorry Egg, you know I am an idiot sometimes, we should go rest”

He wanted to tell her that she wasn’t, not really, not even after she left did he ever thought that, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

She led the way to a simple room decorated in pastels with two identical beds, matching night tables and a very stiff looking couch where his mother sat reading one of the romance novels she loved so well.

As soon as she saw him she got up and enveloped him in an embrace he immediately returned, they parted after a while but she stayed close enough so he could smell her characterístic orange scent, she caressed his face.

"You look so much like your daddy”

Aegon searched for a trace of emotion in his mother’s eyes to know at least someone was grieving as much as him, but her eyes were dry and he remembered that even if his mom felt any pain for her husband’s death she couldn’t be able to express it. Maybe the only thing he resented his is dad for.

“You must tell me all you have done in this years, your sister and little Nym have kept me so busy I haven’t got the chance to visit you and dad.” she made him sit beside her in one of the beds, her soft hands patting his face and squeezing his arm, it made him feel comforted in a way he hadn’t in years “I hope you made him get out of the lab once in a while, Rhaegar needed someone to force him to rest or he would simply drop exausted which of course was never safe–”

"Mom” Rhaenys interrupted putting a hand on mom’s shoulder “Aegon has just arrived and has barely slept I think we better let him rest”

"But look at him dear, your brother looks like he hasn’t eaten a proper meal in years.”

That made him genuinely smile, gods, he really had missed mom “I’ve been eating just fine, I just need some sleep”

“Aegon you can’t sleep like that, you should at least change into your pajamas”

“Well I didnt bring any change of clothes” he confessed rather ashamed. It wasn’t like him to be so unprepared.

"Such a careless boy! Rain we cannot let him like this, we should go out to buy your brother some clothes and food”

Great, now mom was treating him as a 6 year old child.

“Ok, mom just give me a minute I need to call Daeron and Nym to let them know we are at the motel”

His mother nodded, and Rhaenys got out of the room with her cell in hand.He still couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that Rain was a mom now, much less that he was an uncle. He had seen photos of ‘Nym’ when she was a baby and another one of a toddler dressed like Princess Jonquil from that animated movie, but he had never met her.

“Nym has been dying to meet you” As always mom guessed his thoughts.

"She has? I wasn’t sure that Rhaenys talked about me or the Academy”

Mom smiled sadly “Oh, Rain doesn’t talk about the Academy, but about you of course. You are a superhero to Nym, protecting the world from the alíens and meteorites, that girl is obssessed with space, she is always saying that when she grows up her uncle will take her to live with him in space”

He felt a warm feeling wash over him, more than ever he wanted to return to Dragonstone and meet his little niece. That would be nice, he figured, a quiet normal life where he could play with little Nym, of course first he had to investigate what dad was doing in the Wolf’s Wood on his own, he was the head of the Academy now, well he would be if there was an Academy anymore.

Rhaenerys entered again, she had a smile on her face. “Daeron said he and Nym will meet us tomorrow in Dragonstone, I was worried about not being there for her frist flight but her dad says she is very excited”

“I am looking forward to meet them” said Aegon at last, he wished so desperately to have his family back especially now.

"They do too” she replied with a soft smile “Mom, we should get going. Egg you should try to take nap until we come back”

He said he would, and he did try. As soon as they left he took off his shoes and laid down on the bed to the left. It was stiff and smelled way to much of air freshener, but he had been living in a space station for 2 years now so this was more comfortable than he expected. Still he couldn’t fall asleep, as soon as his eyes closed he thought about dad and his mysterious death.

Frustrated, he decided to watch TV to drown out his thoughts. He regreted the decision almost immediately, on the screen appeared a flash of red hair. He almost laughed at his own hopelessnes, there must be a thousand woman in Westeros with that same hair color, and even if he knew them all he would still wish it was Sansa.

The woman turned around and it was her. Sansa. She had grown taller and impossibly beautiful, statuesque and regal were the words that came to mind to describe her.She became an actress, he knew that much. It seemed she was at some red carpet event. His finger thumbed the button to change the channel, he didn’t want to see her, but suddenly a reporter came down on her like a falcon on his prey, and asked her about father’s death. Her brow furrowed, she looked around as if trying to gather if this was some kind of twisted joke, her eyes filled with tears, still she politely excused herself and went back to her limo.

She cared.

His heart skipped a bit, and this time he did laugh. Gods! He felt a fool. Sansa had made her feelings for him very clear on that last note she left him…

When the hosts of the show started talking he finally turned off the TV. He grabbed one of the pillows underneath him and covered his face with it no matter what he did his mind made up diferent scenarios for their reunion each more farfetched and unsatisfactory than the last and like that he fell asleep.

#night watch academy #chapter one #aegon targaryen #rhaenys targaryen #rhaenys martell #tua au!#fandom: A song of ice and fire #my writing

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slxyangel · 5 years ago

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Let The Tables Turn (Duff McKagan x Reader)

Summary: The narration of a story full of broken promises and strong hopes.

Wordcount: 4k.

Warnings: Alcohol abuse, probably the most angst I’ve ever written, insecurities, really dark and dramatic shit.

A/N: This was informally requested by @holyjunkie a while ago, and it has been stting in my drabbles for like a month now, but since today it’s Duff’s birthday I thought it was the perfect oportunity. I’m really proud of the result and I hope you all enjoy it so much, let me know your thoughts :)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN || ASK ME FOR TAGS

Masterlist: https://slxyangel.tumblr.com/post/189625800403/masterlist

Your leg bounced up and down from its place on the stall. Really, really fast; really, really angry. The anxiety being there provoked you wouldn't wear off in the slightest with such an insignificant action, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. What the fuck were you doing there anyway?

The air was thick, the lights were red and the music and voices didn’t even let you hear your own thoughts. Though maybe it was for the better, because what good could you draw from them in that very moment? The club was jam-packed with people, but you were alone, sitting right next to the bar and waiting for Duff to show up from somewhere in there, get his ass in your car and go back home with you. Because at least that was the plan. Going to the damn party for less than an hour, saying hi to everyone, going back home and, like he profusely promised, celebrating your birthday as the law commands.

Because yeah, your birthday had been four days before, but not only he hadn’t spent a single minute of the day with you, but he had been too busy doing God knows what to even call you and wish you, the girl he had been living with for five months and dating for a year and a half, a happy birthday. Nah, instead you had to spend the whole day with no news from him, pacing around and going to bed worried about something serious having happened to him, only to then, at four in the morning of a Tuesday, wake up to the noise of destroyed furniture and his little whines. When you went downstairs with a fucking baseball bat in your hand, just in case you had to smash a burglar’s skull, what you found made your heart sink down to underground levels. Duff was there, on the floor of the kitchen, lights off, eyes unfocused, and the broken table table at his feet.

He was drunk. But he was not just drunk, he was completely fucking wasted. He was so drunk he couldn’t even stand on his own and needed the help of the table. In fact, he was so drunk he wasn’t even able to hold on to the table properly, so he ended up throwing it down with him. You hadn’t seen him or heard from him since Sunday, and you had spent your whole 23rd birthday worried in case something awful had happened to him, only to end up kneeling in the floor of the bathroom, holding his hair and your tears back.

The problem was that, lately, Duff was not Duff. He wasn’t the sweet, caring boy that would show up one day with a box of gingerbread with raisins and your favourite movie from the videoclub just because, in one occasion, he had heard you say you used to have gingerbread with raisins for breakfast when you were little. Or the guy who called to your home for eight days in a row while you were on a roadtrip and dealt with your sister telling him you actually were on a roadtrip, until the ninth day it was finally you who picked up the phone. Not anymore. The past few months had turned him into this irritating, troubled man who only opened his mouth to complain about you being a fucking killjoy because you didn’t want to have sex with him after he drank seven shots of vodka. It was the alcohol what had made that out of him, and it awakened demons in you that you didn’t wanna have to face.

But you held on. You held on for him, you held on for the love of your life and for all the stories you had built with him, you held on because you still had faith. Even when he was the way he wasn’t supposed to be, you still saw in his eyes the flick of shine that had dragged you towards him in the first place. You loved him so much it physically hurted, and seeing him like that was ripping apart a side of you you didn’t know you could miss so badly.

And it’s not like you hadn’t had conversations about it, man, you fucking had them. When he was not drunk, he was still easy to talk to, and he reasoned. One of the few mornings he woke up in your bed and wasn’t recovering from a night out and its subsequent hangover, you took advantage and, almost scared of his reaction, addressed the issue. And he understood, and he told you you were right, and he apologized, and he cried, and he made love to you, and he promised to try. And he also promised to be there on your birthday for a fucking picnic or a movie night or having lunch together at McDonalds, you really could not care less about the choice, because what really made you happy was that he was going to try. So you trusted, and you held on. But what did you hold on for? A broken table, a broken promise and a broken heart.

He immediately knew he had fucked up. His eyes, even behind the mist of alcohol, unmistakably told you so. But you really didn’t have the strength to talk about it in that moment, that would have cracked you. So you bit your lip, you put him to bed, left a glass of water and a pill in case he woke up before you did, and curled up next to him to try and get some sleep before the conversation that was inevitably going to happen the next morning. But the next morning the glass was empty, the pill gone and his side of the bed cold. He had left. And you couldn’t fucking understand why he would do that, not after what happened the night before.

You didn’t hear from him for almost three days after that. Again. He didn’t call, he didn’t show up, nothing, and if it wasn’t for the fact that all his clothes were still in your wardrobe you would have thought that he had finally left for good. But on Thursday night he called you.

-Babe… -- In your side of the line he only found silence, but he dared and started talking -- I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I don’t deserve to even have the chance to tell you this, but I am so, so sorry.

You still didn’t answer. You couldn’t, you had lost your vocal chords. You wanted to yell, you wanted to rip off the phone cable, you wanted to smash his skull against a corner, you wanted to kick the pieces of the table that still were there because you hadn’t had the courage to throw them away, because you had the feeling that they meant something. But instead you could only bring yourself to ask him:

-Why didn’t you call?

The sound of your voice was little more than a fine thread, but you couldn’t risk it. You couldn’t speak louder because then your voice would break, and if your voice broke you would immediately follow. And that couldn’t happen, not with him at the other side of the phone.

-Because I was ashamed--the answer left you frozen--.I was ashamed and I am ashamed. I can’t look at myself in the mirror, because what I see makes me sick. And I don’t mean on the outside, it’s the inside what I am talking about. It’s what I’m becoming, it’s what I’ve become, and it’s what I have done to you and what I will still do to you if I keep on going down this path. I’m fucking scared, and I don’t know what to do, but I really, really want this to go away. And this thread of the conversation has to stop, I have to cut it here because this is not about me being a victim, that’s a narrative I won’t use. It’s about me owning up to what I did, because I made a terrible mistake, and presenting solutions, not diving in the problems. And that’s why I want to tell you that tomorrow there is a thing.--He made a pause, testing the fields, but he went on after your expected silence--It’s a small thing, for the band, in a bar. I really have to go, they require me to. But when the other day I said I wanted to make it better I meant it, and I mean it now, I want to make it better. So, if you want, if you trust me, which I wouldn’t expect you to but I would be extremely thankful for, you can come. We will be there for less than an hour, shake a few hands, sign a few autographs, and then get the hell out of the place. And you could also not come if you don’t want to, I can go directly home right after my strictly necessary time in there has passed, but I thought it could be a good idea to show you that I can do better. Like… at a party… not a single drop of booze, nothing. I really only want to be with you. And then we can go home and watch a movie or have an indoor picnic, or McDonalds or I can’t care less. And, if you want, we’re going to fix the table. Will… will you come?

The silence that followed his words filled the line with screams. Screams that asked for forgiveness. Screams that longed for redemption. Screams that fought against screams to see which one would become the loudest one. But the silence still pierced your ears.

-Okay.

Your mouth betrayed your brain before you even had the time to puzzle the consequences your answer would surely have. It was done, quiet and broken, but done. Then, you heard him say the word “Yeah?”, exactly like that, with a question mark, as if he wanted to make sure what he had heard was not him hallucinating, but an actual agreement of you giving him he billionth chance he knew he didn’t deserve but was willing to fight for. You could have backed off then, you could have unsaid your words, but you didn’t. Instead, you nodded, because the knot in your throat was so tight you couldn’t make a sound. But he sensed your nod, and the next thing you heard was a whispered “I love you” and a click he really didn’t want to make, but he knew he had to.

You slid down, with your back against the wall, until you reached the floor, and you cried the bitter tears that were flooding your eyes. You were tired, and if there was one thing you had no doubt about, it’s that you didn’t want more hopes, because your experience tended to always find new ways to tell you that hopes never end up well. But the heart has reasons that reason does not understand.

_______________________________

That was it. You had just about had it. Two hours fooling around alone in there were more than enough, and the wait for your hopes to crash down yet again was making you sick, so why make it longer. What had to happen was going to happen, whether you had come here or not, whether you wanted it or not. That night on the phone, on the floor, you hadn't been wrong, and your guts knew it all the time. You can't trust a drunk. Especially not one that has proven to always find a method for getting his way, because he is used to it and, if he has seen his ways work, why would he fucking change them? Even if those ways are lying, drinking, apologizing and repeating the circle, which is visibly wrong even to his eyes. He was not going to suppress one single step of the process if it always ended up in him not having to suppress one element of the resolution, those being you and booze cohabiting in his life. But he had to learn. And not for you, not only for you, but for himself. If his life revolved around getting away with his downfall by always finding the most particular excuses, what was going to happen in the future? When that practice was so intricately integrated with his life that he no longer would be able to tell apart one thing from the other? That was definitely something you didn't want to experience with him and you weren't willing to put up with through the years, but that didn't mean the perspective of Duff ending up like that didn't break your heart. So if you had to be the first one who threw a bucket of ice-cold reality in his face, you would do it.

You downed the only fucking shot you allowed yourself to have that night, because leaving a life behind took a courage you didn't think you had, and, for God's sake, he was the one who was not supposed to drink, not you. Then, you grabbed your purse, you stood up, put the sequins of Duff's favourite red dress in place and made your way out. You didn't even bother to look for him, you had tried to when you first arrived there, but it was unsuccessful. All that you got were condescendent looks from the staff as if you were a groupie and not a glimpse of his blond hair or any of his bandmates. And it's not like he didn't have it easy to find you, you had been sitting at the bar the whole evening. If he knew you were going to be there, which happened to be the case, he should have moved his ass and looked for you. But of course he was busy shaking hands and raising his elbow.

The fresh air of the night was relieving. It was November, but in downtown Los Angeles it was never really cold. You breathed in and breathed out just once, and started walking to your car. But a voice amongst them all made its way to your ears, clear as light and choking you as always. You stopped in your tracks.

Duff's hand held yours from behind, as if he wanted to stop you from taking a step you were not taking anymore. You were still, you didn't turn around, you were splitting in half. You were going to leave, you finally were, but he had to show up in the last fucking minute and ruin your power of will. Goddamn prick.

-Babe…--his voice was all but firm. He sounded scared but, if your ears didn’t deceive you... --I didn't know you were here. I… I haven't seen you.

He was sober. Now you turned around and faced the cause of your ruin. He looked good. His hair was all over the place, as usual, and he was wearing a leather jacket you’ swear you had seen on Slash before. But he looked small. His six feet four of frame looked incredibly small and frail. His eyes were all around like he didn't dare look at you but he didn't know where else to look at. His bottom lip almost imperceptibly trembling in spite of the careful smile he was trying to keep. His hand was still holding yours, but the grip was very light, as if he was scared of losing you, but willing to let you go if that was what you wanted.

-Were you leaving?--your silence, yet again, was an eloquent enough answer to his question --Why?

His voice was so low, so close to a whisper that you almost didn't notice the crack that came with it. Now his eyes were on you, and you knew he was waiting for an answer other than silence.

-Because, after three days of not knowing about you, it seems to me that two hours alone in a bar you wanted me to come to are more than enough.

-But I didn't see you.

-Well you should have looked for me.

-I did! I looked for you, I swear to God, but I couldn't find you. I… I thought you had regretted.

“I have, Duff, I have regretted. That's why I'm leaving”. But you didn't tell him. He looked like he was stepping along the thin line that limits defeat. His shoulders were down, his eyes were glossy, his breaths were shallow and he was no longer trying to contain his shaking lip behind a smile. Instead, he just looked at you. And he kept trying.

-We can leave. We can go, now. As I promised. I don't have to go back in there for shit, I'm just done. We can go home and talk or sleep or eat or whatever you want to do. Anything. It's fine for me, I only want you to…

-I'm tired--your voice interrupted his with all the weight of the words he never let you speak - I'm really tired, Duff. I'm tired of you telling me that it's going to be okay, that you are going to make it better only to then show up crawling across the hall because you can't stand on your feet. I'm tired of not knowing about you for increasingly longer periods and when I do it's only via someone who wants me to pick you up from some bar or some fucking corner. I'm tired of having to cling to happier memories of happier times and fight the dread that comes with knowing that I won't be making any more of them, all of this while I clean the mess you made the night before. I'm tired of going on and on with the same circus, all over again. And I'm tired of waking up on my own, worried about you, but I'm scared shitless that some day I might wake up without you and not worry anymore because that's just "the way things are", "he'll come back" or "he won't". I can't do this, Duff, I can't lift the weight I have on my shoulders, I'm not strong enough.

You deflated like a balloon. That was all you had, every word you had to say left your body with an ease you would have never expected. And not even then you felt relieved in the slightest. But how could you feel relieved after telling the love of your life that he is hurting you beyond the point of repair? That's not nice, that's not even cathartic. It just brings emptiness. The only thing you could cling to and that had kept you company for so long, as nasty as it was, all the hate, all the sadness, all the soreness were gone now. Where there used to be an unspoken "No, things are not going to get better", now there remained the same sentence, but said, stated, now it was a fact, now it was a reality. Unspoken meant hope, because although there was no affirmation, there was no negation, and to that you would hold on for dear life even if it was red hot metal. But once spoken? Hopes are gone. And at that point your life was only fueled by hopes. That was the only reason you went to that party, that was the reason you waited for him on your birthday, that was what kept you holding on for months; hopes. All of them based on unspoken words that were now gone.

And he looked just as speechless as you. If before he had been balancing above defeat, you could almost swear that, by now, he was down the pit. His eyes were fixed on you, as if that was the place they only ever wanted to stay in, but he was unsuccessfully trying so hard to fight their will to be exposed to you. The eyes are the doors to the soul, and now he was the most vulnerable he had ever been. He didn’t want to be vulnerable. He wanted to be okay, and stand tall and be there for you when you needed him, he wanted to play that role. And if he ever let himself be vulnerable it could only be under the protection that the certainty of your love and your presence gave him. But lately he had done everything backwards. He had let the alcohol take over his insecurities and he had closed the door to you. And you had restlessly called and knocked and smashed it, but he had ignored the noise, and now the noise was over. You were leaving, you were done with it, you were done with him, and he miserably knew he couldn’t blame you. But he couldn’t blame himself either. Because, yes, it had been fully and entirely his fault, but, as he had told you the night before, guilt was a narrative he wouldn’t let himself drown in, because one thing he had learned was that drowning in a negative feeling only sends you further down, and he could not afford that under any circumstance, not if he really wanted to change.

You saw him pat the pockets in his jacket with a nearly desperate face, looking for something he most definitely couldn’t find. Then he looked in his jean pockets and grabbed from them the thing he was looking for, whatever it was. He handed it to you like a last strand, with the expression of one who is waiting for a death row pardon but is unsure it’s gonna come. It was a round metallic piece, not much bigger than a coin and not much smaller than a medal. It was golden and heavy, and on one side it had an inscription that read “24 hours”. You turned it around to see the opposite side of it, and the letters “A. A.” greeted you.

-I know it’s not much. I know. It’s… This is not an apology. I don’t have one, no apology on Earth is valid for all of this. I just wanted to show you I mean it, I want to change, and want to get help and I’m getting it. It’s just one day, I went on Wednesday and then on Thursday they gave me this. I was going to give it to you at home, but now I don’t know if…

Your body crashed against his with such force you two almost lost balance and fell to the floor, but you genuinely wouldn’t have cared, you probably wouldn’t even have noticed. Your arms held him the tightest they physically could, and when he overcame the shock, his arms responded the same way. With your face buried in his chest, you hadn’t realized you had started crying, and your tears and your muffled sobs freely lost themselves in his clothes. He was not going to try, he was actually trying. This was far beyond a promise, this was an actual move for the first time in forever, this was the materialization of your hopes. You had spent so many hours and days and months unconsciously preparing yourself for the crash you sensed was gonna come, that you had forgotten that the chance of flying existed too. And it was indescribably better than you could have ever imagined. His lips whispered against your scalp the words that had made that long nightmare a bit less unbearable: “I love you, I love you, I love you”. It was not an “I’m gonna try”, because he was already trying and he didn’t have to tell you, you could see it now; it was not a “Thank you for a chance you are freely giving me”, because, unlike all the other times, today he was earning it. It was an “I love you for staying despite all the things I have put you through, I love you for trusting me, I love you for being so strong and I love you for having such capacity for pain but an always bigger capacity for love”. He loved you, and you loved him no matter what, but now more than ever. And, for the first time in ages, loving him didn’t hurt.

_________________

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