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agentwhiskeysdarlin · 2 years ago

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The Sun Always Rises

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Rating: NSFW 18+ (please read the warnings before you continue)

Warnings: grab your tissues folks because this is a rough one. Fluff, angst, smutty times but it’s brief, p in v sex, slightly rough sex, this is tlou universe so with that comes infected and violence. VERY IMPORTANT PLEASE READ BEFORE CONTINUING: One of the characters dies and there are some heavy themes implied that comes with that. For the sake of not using triggering words, they seemingly help their death along. It’s not graphic and it’s not done in depth but it’s implied. If that is triggering for you please do not hit keep reading.

Word Count: 4.5k (I believe this is my longest fic to date)

Author’s Notes: The fic the world almost didn’t see. I have been writing this pretty much over the course of the entire show and I thought it would be good as a well I won’t say celebration of the show coming to a close for it’s first season. This is probably the heaviest and darkest thing I have ever written and with that came the nerves of not wanting to post it. Thanks to @clint-aww-no-barton for helping me make is a bit better and talking me into posting it. I am actually very happy with this fic even given what happens and it’s probably one of my favorite things I have ever written. I hope you all enjoy and grab your tissues because you will need them. Sorry for the weird time posting! I didn't mean for that to happen but here we are!

ao3 link

The earth crunched under Joel’s feet. His gun held firmly in one hand, his eyes taking in everything he could possibly see. He always walked behind them so he could watch, so he could keep them safe. You laughed and his eyes snapped to the back of your head. You were holding your stomach, Ellie holding that damn pun book in her hand. Joel couldn’t stop his eye roll but he also didn’t stop the tiny smile that pulled at the corner of his lips. It was you, really, that made him smile, you’d been his only reason for so long.

You’d come into Joel’s life suddenly and unpredictably, like the most beautiful sunrise he’d ever seen. You were the embodiment of sunshine and anyone who knew you would completely agree. Including Joel, despite the dark cloud always over his head. Now he had his own piece of sunshine to push that darkness away. His nightmares had always been of outbreak night, but losing you had become a part of them. Pulling him from his sleep with a jolt. He found himself watching you breathe as you slept, to reassure himself that you were okay. That you were still with him.

You turned and looked back at him, eyes bright with a wide smile, and Joel just looked at you and shook his head. A small smirk formed on his lips. You just about glowed with happiness at making him smile, and you stopped in your tracks waiting for him to catch up. Joel fell in step between you and Ellie. It didn’t take long for him to regret his decision.

“What did the grape say when it got crushed?” Ellie read aloud, a smirk forming on her lips.

“Hmmmm I don’t know what?” You spoke from Joel’s left, your voice bright and already dancing on the edge of more laughter.

“Nothing, it let out a little wine.”

Joel shook his head again as the two started to laugh.

“Oh that’s lame,” you laughed.

“That was pretty lame.” Joel finally spoke and you stopped one, hand going to your chest the other reaching out to his shoulder.

“Ah he speaks!! You hear that Ellie? He has a voice!”

Joel rolled his eyes but as he turned to keep walking, he smiled.

“Ah and he’s smiling,” Ellie smirked, wiggling her eyebrows.

Joel caught her giving you a wink as you fall back in line next to him, smiling proudly.

Evening came almost too quickly but Joel was counting all of you lucky. It was like an answered prayer, seeing the small building in such a rural area. Joel checked the small space on quiet feet, then he motioned you and Ellie inside.

“Ellie you’ll take that room. There’s only one door, so if someone wants to come in they’ll have to go through us.” Joel spoke, his head nodding towards the open doorway.

He sat down his backpack to pull out the little bit of food he had. His mind however was on anything but eating. He wanted Ellie in the other room for other reasons. He glanced at you, watching as you slung off your own pack to pull your own food from it. He watched as you set your book out and your bedroll, so oblivious to his plans.

“We’ll eat a bit and then get some sleep,” he spoke quietly.

The three of you sat around and mostly ate in silence. Peppered here and there with discussion of where you were and how much longer you thought it might actually take to get where you were going. All too soon dinner came to a close and Joel moved to the other room, anxiously waiting for you to join him. He let out a sigh of relief when he heard you speak your good nights to Ellie. You closed the door before turning to him, your soft smile becoming a smirk as you noticed him waiting.

*Reader’s POV*

He looked like he was about to devour you. You felt your self growing wet as you began walking forward. You met in the middle, his hands coming up to your cheeks as he kissed you. Joel always kissed with such passion, that every time it happened it felt like the first time all over again. Nothing was ever slow with him either. In a world like this you couldn’t afford slow love making, but you didn’t mind. Having him in anyway you could was enough for you. His hands were everywhere, feeling every inch of you he possibly could. You sighed against his lips, weak within his touch. He had already laid out a sleeping bag, with your packs close by and pillows made of clothes. He wrapped his arms around you and with great care moved you to the ground. As laid you down his lips finally parted from yours and you both panted.

“We have to be quiet sweetheart, alright?” He spoke in a whisper, so quiet you were sure you were the only person who could have heard him.

All you could do was nod and give him a pleading look. He smirked at the way you silently begged for him.

“Use your words,” he spoke as his forehead pressed to yours.

“We have to be quiet now, please Joel,” you panted out, letting a small whine go at the end of your words.

Joel chuckled as he worked to pull your jeans down and then quickly pulled himself out. He didn’t waste time entering you, and you both let out groans at the feeling. This would never get old and you only hoped, with every ounce of your being, that one day you could share a real bed and take your time. For now you took what he could give, and gave him everything you had. It was quick, hands and lips everywhere. Sweet nothings slipped past his lips as his hips moved, soft but quick. You both reached your highs in, what you swore, was record time. He pulled from you and you wished he didn’t have to. You both fixed yourselves, before he pulled the top of the sleeping bag over the two of you and pulled you close. He kissed your temple.

“Sleep sweetheart. I’ll take first watch.”

“Don’t go yet,” you pouted pulling him close.

“I’m going to wait until you’re asleep. I promise.”

He chuckled and you shook your head, curling into him. It didn’t take long, unfortunately, for sleep to wash over you and take you.

The pencil glided gently across the paper in your lap. Morning light crept between the fraying curtains behind you. It was just enough to make out the man that slept on the floor in front of you. You had woken up several hours to take over watch. You’d kissed him lightly on the cheek as he found his own rest, before checking on Ellie. You’d settled in to lean on the wall under the window and at first light you had started drawing. It was a hobby you did before the world went to shit, but you had started doing it more afterwards. It was a way for you to cope and sketch memories. You even found yourself adding in things that were more normal, to make it look like the life you were living was not what it was.

“How the hell can you even see?”

“Don’t move,” a smile pulled at your lips at Joel’s sleepy voice breaking the silence.

“I need to stretch sweetheart.”

“Just a few more minutes. I almost have it.”

“When are you going to let me see all your sketches?”

“The day I die.”

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking,” you smiled wider now.

It had been a thing for you to keep your sketches on lock down. You didn’t want him to see until the sketchbook was full, and you had a ways to go. You hadn’t even shown Ellie, even with her begging. It was a private way for you to record memories, and you were a little scared of people seeing your work. The day you were gone from this world anyone could have at it.

“I’m done. You may move now, my muse,” you spoke with a wide smile as Joel finally sat up.

“I want to see.”

“Nice try. Not happening. Plus it’s not done. I’ll have to add some more things in later. I’ll go wake Ellie. Get a move on old man and make us some breakfast.”

You stood up, shoving yourself off the wall and opening the curtains. When you turned to leave the room Joel stretched, still half under the sleeping bag, eyes squinting, hand trying to shield against the sudden light. You bent and kissed him, that same hand coming to your cheek. You deepened it, unable to help yourself.

“You two get a room,” Ellie’s disgusted voice broke the two of you apart.

Joel and you looked around before shrugging.

“Looks like we got one,” the both of you spoke and you busted out laughing.

Joel followed and then Ellie’s face broke out in a smile.

“You two are gross but in a cute way.”

“Well thank you kiddo. I was just coming to wake you up anyways. Joel here has volunteered to cook up breakfast.”

“I don’t recall volunteering. I was told I would be fixing breakfast,” Joel gave you a pointed look as he stood up, stretching and moving about to work his muscles.

Ellie made the sound of a cracking whip, which only made you throw back your head in a laugh.

“Oh you know it,” you spoke to her throwing her a wink.

Joel stood there with his hands on his hips looking between the two of you, his tongue pushing against his cheek.

“Are the two of you done?”

“For now,” you patted him as you walked past to gather your things in your bag.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw his face twitch with a smile, as he shook his head before squatting down and fishing food from his pack.

The day had been a slow moving one. You felt like the city had only grown bigger, and the three of you would never reach the other side. You glanced toward the sky, noting the sun was starting its slow decent.

“We need to find somewhere to settle soon,” you spoke as you glanced back at Joel.

His eyes connected with yours before he glanced at the sun and squinted.

“Yeah we don’t need to be out in the open when it gets dark.”

“Where are we going to go?” Ellie spoke as she turned and started to walk backwards.

Joel turned around gesturing obviously around the three of you, “well there are about a hundred buildings around us.”

They gave each other a look before Ellie stuck her tongue out at Joel, and as she turned back around caught your eye and rolled hers. You didn’t stop the laugh that passed your lips.

“Okay children,” you glanced back at Joel, who just glanced up at you.

His brows were furrowed and that pout was across his lips. It was honestly cute and you never stopped poking fun at his grumpiness. It was incredibly true that opposites attracted.

“Alright let’s just pick one and see if we need to clear it before it gets too dark.” Joel spoke as he took a turn, heading for a random building.

Thankfully it wasn’t a skyscraper, which you had always hated staying in, and aside from the usual disrepair, it seemed to be standing pretty well. You pulled your gun from your holster, gripping it in both hands, your knife fixed on your belt. You looked from Joel to Ellie, both taking quiet steps. Joel held a rifle and Ellie matched you with a small pistol. You had talked Joel into giving her a gun, after the two of you were jumped and almost didn’t make it out. You gave them both a nod and stepped forward. It was almost like a dance you had known your whole life. The three of you had fallen into a step by step sweep. It’s almost worked every time, with only very few failures. Joel went one way, Ellie and yourself the other. You breathed carefully, walked quietly and listened closely. You heard them before you stepped around the corner, at least a dozen infected. Gunshots fired behind you somewhere and you only prayed it was Joel as chaos erupted.

The infected moved quickly, screaming as they charged for you. You shot as quickly as you could, trying to take down any that came your way. Ellie moved next to you, panicked words coming from her lips, but you couldn’t completely hear what she was saying. You heard more footsteps behind you and a scream, but you were far too late. The infected woman has you down on the ground in moments and the two of you started to roll. Your gun clattered across the ground, and now your knife was your only option. You tried to get angle it to stab your target but it wasn’t working. You let out a scream, trying to pull Joel or Ellie to you, but they both fought their own battles. Complete fear took you over and you became frenzied. Pain shot somewhere up your side and you ignored it as you stabbed blindly. Then a gunshot. You jumped and the infected slumped against you. She started to tip forward, blood oozing across you, as you shoved her off. You panted, sitting there for a beat, before a hand reached out, Ellie. You took it and she helped you up.

“You okay?!” She spoke.

“I think so, yeah. Thank you. Did we get them all?” You spoke the question as Joel ran up panting.

“Are y’all okay?” He looked between the two of you frantically.

“Yeah I think so,” you breathed. “Do you think we’re clear now?”

You felt the adrenaline pumping through your veins start to fade, and fatigue began to take over far too quickly.

“I think we’re good. I found us a few rooms we can stay in, toward the back. I’m going to set some traps real quick.”

Joel motioned, and you followed him with Ellie on your heels, to a few rooms towards the back of the building. Only one window between the two. Ellie took the room to the back with no entrances, and Joel and yourself took the other so you could keep watch and take anything out before it could get to her.

“I’ll be back,” Joel spoke and you gave each other a nod, before he was gone.

Ellie had already went to her room to settle herself and you stood there looking around. You pulled your pack from your back and jumped as pain ripped up your body. Your brows furrowed and you looked down. You felt your stomach sink and bile rise up your throat. There on your side, under a now blood covered shirt, was a bite. You stared at it for a long moment, your hands trembling as you held your shirt to check the damage.

“Fuck,” you uttered with a tremble, voice cracking.

You had to pull yourself together. You had a few hours and you needed to figure out a plan and, worst of all, you had to figure out how to tell Joel. You looked towards the door he had left out of moments before. Your sadness was not for yourself. You knew this was how most stories ended, and you had always been prepared for it. Mostly content with leaving this world, but since Joel it had been harder. No your sadness was not for yourself, it was for him.

The sun hadn’t completely set yet but your lantern made shadows that danced across the walls around you. The three of you had decided to eat and you nibbled at your food, nerves raw and on edge. You kept staring at Joel taking him in, memorizing him. Ellie too. It was time. You needed to tell them both before it was too late, but you needed to tell Joel first, and alone.

“Ellie can um, can you give me and Joel a minute?” Your words were soft, shaking.

“Sure,” Ellie spoke just as softly, her brows furrowed.

You gave her a look and knowing passed over her features. She thankfully didn’t say anything or give anything away as she walked into the other room. Joel looked at you with concern, and you felt like you were going to be sick before you could push the words out.

“Joel I…” you paused, closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “I got bit.”

It came out in a whisper and you couldn’t meet his eyes, as silence wrapped around the two of you. You were trembling again, tears gathering in your eyes. You finally looked up, and the sight you were met with shattered you completely.

*Joel’s POV*

This wasn’t happening. Not again. No. No no no. Joel refused to believe it, even with the look on your face. He wanted to scream, he wanted to break something. Why did he continue to fail the people he loved? Sarah. And now you. Not you. Anybody but you. The cruel world Joel had been living in just became the true villain in his story. Stealing away the brightest light he had in his life. He thought everything had been okay. You said you were okay.

“Joel, please, say something.” your voice pulled him back and his eyes shot to yours.

Tears spilled down your cheeks now and the sight was something so rare, that it only broke his heart more.

“This…it can’t…I…I don’t understand.” It was all he could say.

Then he broke. Joel was a man that didn’t cry often, and he had only done it a handful of times in his life. He couldn’t find a way to care in that moment. You were up on your feet coming to him, as he stood and pulled you to him. The two of you stood there for a long moment sobbing into each other.

“Is it true?” Ellie’s soft and broken voice made Joel look up.

You turned in his arms and he watched as you gave her a simple nod and then she was reaching for you. She shed her own tears, as Joel watched the two of you hold each other.

“Listen to me Ellie,” you spoke through tears, as you gently pulled Ellie away and bent to eye level with her.

Joel just watched on. His little family broken again by the darkness of death.

“You have to promise me to keep going, okay? You have to take care of him. He’s an old man so he’s going to need you,” a small chuckle from the both of you. “But you keep going and you save this world okay, kiddo? You are so special Ellie, and I’m so thankful to have known you.”

“You’re the one that’s special,” Ellie sobbed out. “This is so unfair.”

Joel watched as you pulled Ellie back to you for a bone crushing hug, he knew had to hurt you, but he knew you didn’t care.

“I love you kiddo,” your words were soft and muffled in Ellie’s hair, but Ellie spoke them back with another breaking sob.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Ellie spoke as she pulled away.

Joel watched as you stopped her, grabbing her hand.

“Thank you.”

The words were almost too soft for even Joel to hear, but they were full of knowing. Ellie gave you a nod and then turned and went back into her room, shutting the door that still hung on it hinges. Then you turned and looked at him.

“How long do you think you have?”

“Not much longer,” your words were soft.

“How do you want…” Joel let his words die on his tongue, unable to speak the truth of the matter.

“You still have all those pain pills?” You asked and Joel just nodded.

“I’ll take them and then once I slip away you…”

You couldn’t finish the sentence, but Joel knew what you needed. Even though the thought broke him, he knew that you didn’t want to pass from this earth by the hands of anyone else. He would give you every last wish you desired.

“And I…I want you to hold me. I want you to be the last thing I see.”

The words fell from you more sure and Joel just nodded, swallowing back more tears. He fixed the bedding against a wall so you could be more comfortable. He tried not to think too much as he moved, but failed as his mind raced. He glanced over, seeing you pull a full bottle of pills from his pack and your knife. He settled against the wall and you sat to his left but you didn’t lay down yet. Your eyes locked with his. They were so beautiful, a sight he always loved. They were always so bright, so full of laughter, light, life. Even now, through the tears, even with what was happening you still held that light there. Joel always knew you were impossibly happy in a world like this, and it seemed death wouldn’t even dim that completely. You gazed at him for a long moment, before reaching out to cup his cheek. Your touch sending that electric shock through him. Making his heart rate jump. It was a feeling he never thought he would experience again, until he met you. He fell in love almost instantly, and even tried to push you away, but it didn’t work and he finally surrendered. Joel leaned into your touch, memorizing it.

“Joel Miller you listen to me okay?” Your words shook as you held back tears, but he nodded all the same. “Please keep going. Don’t stop living okay? You have to keep going for Ellie. Get her where she needs to go, but don’t let them…don’t let them do anything cruel to her okay? You are a good man Joel. No matter what you think. You came into my life like a whirlwind and you took my heart. It’s yours, it has been and always will be. If you find someone else, please take the jump. Love them as much as you did me. You and Ellie are going to change this world and I hope you find somewhere to settle. I hope you get to do the things you’ve alway wanted. I’ll always be here.”

Joel took your face into his hands and pulled your forehead against his.

“I’ll never love anyone the way I loved you. You were the light I needed so badly in this dark world. I promise I’ll keep going, if for nothing else but you and Ellie. You are such a bright light in this world, and it’s not going to be the same without you. I’m not going to be the same without you. I love you so much,” Joel broke again and you were right there with him.

He pulled your lips to his and kissed you deeply. He put everything he could in this kiss, wanting to make your last moments the best he possibly could. Then you moved away too soon and he pulled you to lay in his lap. You curled into him and let out a sob.

“I’m scared Joel,” you spoke in a whisper, as you looked up at him and the look in your eyes he would never forget as long as he lived.

“I promise it’s going to okay. You won’t feel anything.” He spoke through his own tears.

After, you curled back into Joel’s arms, and he held you as close as he could, your limbs all wrapped up in each other. You kept your eyes on him and his on you.

“I don’t want to go,” you spoke softly.

“I know. I don’t want you to either. I’m so sorry.”

“There is nothing to apologize for Joel, I promise.”

“Just look at me okay? Keep your eyes on me.”

You simply shook your head and the two of you feel into a silence that ate Joel alive. He wanted to keep talking, to take in your voice as much as he could.

“I guess this means you can finally look at my sketchbook.”

Your words slurred now, but you cracked a smile, a chuckle falling from you. Joel couldn’t hold back an answering smile, didn’t stop his own chuckle. It was just how you needed to go out. Smiling and laughing, one last special shared moment. Joel watched as your body fell slack, your eyes closed. Even as your face relaxed, there was still a trace of that smile left and it was all so perfect. You embraced death the same way you embraced life. With a smile. So beautiful. Joel let out a sob, his whole body shaking as he rocked you, his fingers pushing your hair away from the spot he needed to reach. He couldn’t stop the sound of his crying that echoed through the empty building. Once your breathing stilled, he pulled you into him, against his chest and sobbed. Ellie was there a few moments later. She was on her knees in front of him, sobbing as well. Joel and Ellie held you for a long moment, till neither had anything left in them.

“We can bury her in that small clearing behind the building,” Ellie spoke after several long moments of silence.

Joel only nodded. Then he stood, taking you with him. He buried you by lantern light. Then sat there the entire night staring at the dirt covering you. When the sun finally made its appearance, it was only fitting that the light seemed to hit your grave first. Ellie appeared and stuck a make shift cross at the head.

“I thought this was a good place, because the sun will always rise behind her. Illuminating her just like it always did.”

Ellie’s words were soft and she ran her finger over your name before standing. Joel glanced up at her and Ellie outstretched her hand to him, which he took. He walked a few steps before he looked back at your grave.

“Goodbye my sunshine.”

Joel took his first steps out of the building, back on the path he had chosen, without you. He knew it was going to hurt for a long time, but as he and Ellie walked, he knew things would eventually be okay again. You had said that you would always be with him and as the warmth of the sunshine fell over him, he felt your warmth along with it. Joel found himself stopping and facing into this sun, eyes closed and a smile pulling at his lips. You were right, as long as the sun still shown, you would always be here along side him.

Tagged: @jimmythegirl @arcadianempress @discogrrl @immundusspiritu @someplace-darker @thisis-theway @ohpedromypedro @scribbledghost @fioccodineveautunnale @princess-and-pedro @phoenixhalliwell @littlevodka @all-hallows-evie @mack4676 @perropascal @audreyshepbvrn @mswarriorbabe80 @kaqua @novemberrain221

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller angst #joel miller smut

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luvbangchan · 1 year ago

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Big Hug

Pairing: Chan x gn!reader

Warning: slightly suggestive, lots of fluff

Word count: ~1.5k

A/N: Hey y’all! This is my first time writing/posting a fic, so any feedback is appreciated! I wrote this when I found out Chan’s Room had ended, and I just wanted to write something for us all to remember the good times while be delulu together because delulu is the solulu <3

“Biiiiig hug!”

All I can do is sigh, watching this man, my man, acting so damn cute. I’ve never wanted to be a camera more in my entire life. Every time I watch Chan’s Room, I just miss him, longing for his touch more and more. Unfortunately, our schedules have been all over the place lately, but I so desperately want to see him because I need one of those big hugs.

Chan’s cute little smirk flashes across the screen before it goes black. After the live ends, I realize that this man is all mine, the love of my life. And there is only so long I can go without having any sort of contact with him, and right now, I need to hear his voice again, even if it's just for a few seconds.

I decide to wait a few minutes before calling, and he picks up, sounding exhausted.

“Hey baby,” he says while yawning, and I feel a twinge of guilt. I know how hard he works for himself, the rest of his members, and even me. I can’t help but feel like I need to do something for him since he deserves the world.

“Hey babe, sorry for calling. I know you’re exhausted from working so hard. I just miss you and wanted to hear your voice for a bit.” He’s silent for a second before responding.

“Y/N, don’t apologize, don’t you even dare. I know I’ve been so busy lately, but I’m actually so happy you called. I really miss you, and I love you so…”

His voice trails off, but after a few beats, I hear his soft snores. I can’t help but smile a bit because I adore every part of this man, including his snoring. I listen for a while longer before whispering, “I love you, too,” and hang up. I sit silently for a few minutes, thinking of something I can do for him, and then a light bulb goes off in my head.

A week later, I found myself at Chan’s dorm. The rest of the members, especially Felix, helped work out a day that I could surprise Chan at his place when the both of us were free to actually spend time together.

I lightly knock on the door, anxiously awaiting my boyfriend, but instead, Jisung opens the door. I am pretty confused until he says, “Hi, Y/N! I know you were probably expecting Chan, but he’s in his room working on something right now.” Jisung sighs, looking apologetic.

“Don’t worry, I was half expecting this,” I say. I know Chan too well to believe he would use his day off to do anything but work. “But I didn’t come empty-handed.”

Jisung’s mouth is gaping as I step aside to show the bags of dishes I prepared with my mom and sisters. “Consider it a token of my appreciation for helping me work this out.”

We grab up all the bags with Felix’s help, who has apparently been waiting for my arrival. Once everything is settled on the counter, I’m about to make a beeline for Chan’s room when I turn around, and he’s standing right in front of me.

I look up at him, his lips slightly parted, and with the widest grin I could possibly manage, I say, “Biiiiig hug!” before launching myself into his chest, encircling my arms around his waist.

I feel his arms quickly wrap around me, hugging me tightly, as he rests his head on mine. He lets out a big sigh, which turns into him saying, “I love you.”

My face instantly feels warm as I realize that we aren't alone. Hyunjin, Jeongin, and Seungmin are leaning on the island in the kitchen, sharing a box of tissues. Minho and Changbin have joined Jisung and Felix by the door where Changbin is trying and failing to convince the other three that he’s not crying.

I loosen my grip on Chan so that I can look up at his face. His cheeks are bright red, which I can only imagine is what he’s seeing on mine, too. He glances at the members before rolling his eyes and focusing back on me, his lips still parted. Then he bends down and plants the sweetest kiss on my lips, and I can no longer feel my legs.

I hear an eruption of cheers, gasps, and what can only be described as fangirls, or in this case, fanboys screeching. Chan breaks the kiss and glares at them before suddenly sweeping me off my feet and carrying me to his room. Even as we walk down the hall, I still hear these seven adult men losing their minds.

When we get to his room, Chan gently places me on his bed, standing in front of me with an intense, loving gaze.

“So you do watch my lives,” he says with that same smirk he always has before ending Chan’s Room. As soon as his words register, I break eye contact and start feeling warm again.

He takes my chin and delicately guides my face to look back at him.

“You looking away isn’t helping your case here, babe. But it makes me happy because every time I go live I always hope that you're watching.”

Instead of looking away this time, I bring his face down to mind, leaving only an inch of space between our lips. I feel his breath catch in his throat as I whisper, “I’ve never missed a live,” before passionately pressing my lips to his.

Chan takes my hands, which were initially holding his, and wraps them around his neck. Then he moves his hands, delicately gripping my waist, pulling me flush against his chest. I curl my fingers in his beautiful black locks, needing to be as close to him as possible.

We finally have to break apart for air, both panting, still holding each other with our lips mere millimeters apart.

“Well, I got more than just a big hug, and I’m certainly not mad about it,” I say breathlessly, and then placing a teeny kiss on his nose. He smiles, and then we both burst out laughing.

“I could give you more than just a big hug, you know,” he says with the biggest shit-eating grin I’ve ever seen. I playfully slap his chest, and in retaliation, he tickles my side. Somehow, between giggles, words actually manage to escape my lips.

“Now, this is cruel! I come all the here, and this is what I get?”

After a few seconds, I find a way to hook my leg around his waist. I yanked him onto the bed, which led to him falling on top of me. Chan ceased his tickling and looked stunned for a moment before he started cackling. His laugh is infectious, so of course, I’m laughing equally as loud with him.

As we wind down from our case of the giggles, I come back to the reality of the position we are in. My body is fully trapped beneath his, with that drop-dead gorgeous face staring down at me, so all I think to do is to trace his features.

“I really missed you. Sometimes seeing you live is the only thing that keeps me going.”

I trace his face, my fingertips landing near his lips, and he smiles.

“Y/N, move in with me.”

My hand drops from his face, mouth agape. I am utterly shocked, I was not expecting that.

“Listen, we’ve been together for so long now and I’m tired of being so far from you. I want you to be the first thing I wake up to and the last thing I see before I go to sleep. Don’t worry I’ve already talked about it with the boys. Actually they’re the ones that suggested it.”

Chan’s ears get a little red at that and I can’t help but grin.

He goes on saying “I mean obviously there’s no pressure you don’t have to-”

Before he can continue I bring his lips to mine for a quick peck responding with “Yes! Of course I’ll move in!”

All of a sudden the both of you hear a gasp outside the door, causing you to get out of the compromising situation and open the door only for all seven boys to fall into Chan’s room.

I start laughing and everyone joins in too because oh boy were these guys ridiculous. Chan just looks back at me with the sweetest smile and says “Alright, well you better start packing. It looks like I’m not the only one eager for you to move in.”

Felix gets up and pulls both me and Chan into a warm hug with everyone joining in. Chan wraps an arm around my waist and whispers loud enough only for me to hear.

“Big hug!”

#bang chan fluff #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #bang chan #chan x reader #chan x y/n #skz #stray kids #big hugs #chans room

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flowers-of-io · 2 years ago

Note

POST DOLLHOUSES 👀👀👀

I'm not home till Sunday so any recent pics will have to wait, but I do have a few photos on my kofi and also a semi-inactive insta! I was reaaaaally into this in high school.

[Putting a read more because I started to ramble, lol]

I'm dreaming of a time when I can finally have a proper workshop and keep all my miniatures and craft supplies there, because the time and effort it takes to take it all out and then put it back after I'm done working and/or I need the table space is a big turn off & the main reason I haven't been devoting much time to it recently. I don't have enough space in my flat to build and store a whole dollhouse, but I'm planning to turn one shelf of my bedroom cupboard into a mini loft <3

Oh I also have a few miniatures I bought at various random places, including a cast-iron pencil sharpener in the shape of a stove (with a tiny retractable drawer!!) I found at a market in Barcelona in 2018. It's not entirely up to scale (probably around 1:16, I'd say), but it's so werid and I love it.

I could go on and on about all the thought associations I have with miniature-making, like it's a cool hobby in and of itself but its quirkiness kinda... takes you places sometimes lol. I told my middle school history teacher (visiting her already as a graduate) that I was making those crafts and the most useful supply I was in constant need of were cardboard tissue boxes, so the next time I came around she gave me at least three and said she'd been putting them away for me. I still have them all, even after the move.

Also the reason I took this hobby up on the first place was that our English teacher in high school gave us podcasts to listen to, and my attentively deficient brain couldn't focus on that without something to occupy my hands. Don't ask me how I stumbled upon that first youtube tutorial, it was either through some nail art videos or pinterest, but find it I did, and I made that first tiny tissue box (out of a piece of a tissue box), and then I frankensteined a bed that took forever to dry, and then made a cupboard from an original project, and then these books that had decoupage paper glued to every page separately because I was sick and sad and had too much time, and it kinda rolled on from there.

A lot of it is connected in my mind to radio, and the hours upon hours of listening to my favourite program, knowing what show came at which hour and moving all plans aside to make space during that one hour from 9 to 10 pm every Monday-Thursday. Sipping green tea or cocoa and getting my fingers all sticky while the radio talked to me about the world, and mourning the fact I have to be in bed by 11 because the next day I wake up at 5:40. High school era was a weird mix of dread and solace, radio chatter, and many many new hobbies.

#wow sorry for the ramble i kinda lost control over my brain for a sec #i'll post the pics when i return home!!!#POST YOURS #reply #siyurikspakvariisis

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chocominnie · 3 years ago

Text

One Last Time 03 — Pjm. (M)

⇢ pairing: Jimin X Reader

⇢ Genre: Idol!Jimin, Exbf!Jimin, model!reader, sad au, fluff, tons of smut, angst

⇢ Synopsis: Your idol ex boyfriend Jimin cheated on you. You two have been broken up for a while now and the media has been keeping track of you and him. You’re trying to get over him, but the things that happen inbetween makes you re-think the entire breakup, and so does Jimin…

⇢ Song : xxxxx

⇢ Previous : 00 01 02

⇢ Word Count : 4.2k

⇢ Warnings: dominant jimin, makeout sessions, this is honestly a sad angsty au, cheating, pregnancy, unprotected and protected sex, a bunch of sex, no really a LOT of sexual themes too, I know I’m forgetting some but sorry in advance!

⇢ Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Authors note: This is my mini series for the summer! Get your tissues, things to take your anger out on, and sit back and watch the drama unfold. Shall we begin?

Being a model isn’t as always what people view it as. It’s not all just fun and prancing around in clothing that’s either revealing or not. It’s about business and fun but you mustn’t mix pleasure in. Every model knows that. But you, you took advantage of that. You decided you wanted to know what would happen if you had did that. And that is how everything went wrong.

You had actually met Jimin through Jungkook. But, BigHit staff did a casting call for one of their music videos. You had gotten chosen and while at the shoot Namjoon had sparked in interest for you. He spoke fluent english that glided of his tongue ever so breathlessly. But his adorable, cheeky dimple smile had put the icing on the cake for you. You two had been friends ever since.

They needed two girls, the protagonist and the antagonist. You were the protagonist while another was the antagonist but the role did fit you well. You aren’t the type to cause trouble and when your manager explained the script and concept to you, she thought it was a perfect match to your real life personality.

You and Jimin had hit it off right then and there. You loved his smile, his way of talking, and his cute little English phrases he would slip in then and there to you on set. It was the most adorable thing ever. He was a smooth talker too. Then Bam! You didn’t know what had gotten into him. Well.. the acting was for the concept music video, but you’ve never seen someone go from adorable to to a dominant personality so quickly. The entire switch up from the persona had fooled you good. Way.. too good.

That was how it hit you. You knew that he had to be yours.

But then yours.. became shared.

Then sharing became permanent.

Now you are single and heartbroken.

“ Long time no see! How have you been?”

You smile and take in his huge bear hug. He smelled so divine. Namjoon has always carried himself like a mature man, but in the inside you knew he’s a child at heart.

‘‘ Im fine. How are you? I’ve been on a little hiatus.” You nervously chuckle, assuming he already knows why. Namjoon nods his head and guides you further into the set.

It’s the inside of an apartment. They’ve set it up so pretty for it to seem like it’s a real apartment. The LED lights are beaming but not enough for it to be too bright. Just perfect. You take a glance at all around the set you would be soon using.

The bed is a modern day king size in the colour schemes of black, white and grey along with a matching dresser and nightstands. White Jasmine flowers, sit on top of the nightstand along with the book milk and honey sitting next to it.

‘‘ I seen your pictures when they had dropped yesterday.” He pauses, glancing up at you to see your reaction. The way your breath hitches for a moment humored him. “ You looked very good. You did a great job. Welcome back to the business!”

Only if the business was so welcoming at all. Pictures of you had been posted on all your platforms and the comments came rushing in. Some good, but majority bad, only because the people of the world thought your comeback was revenge for Jimin’s comeback. Turns out, he had a comeback three days before you. You didn’t know, because you don’t keep up with him anymore. His fanbase was actually the ones commenting to the bad comments to leave you alone and that you moved on.

If only you made it that far to move on.

Namjoon leads you to the hair and makeup station that’s been set up for the both of you. Each of you greet them and take a seat in the two black director’s chair with your name on it. As you sat in your chair you let the stylists and make-up artist do your thing while you read the concept script of the music video.

It’s going to be Namjoon rapping about his first love and how she broke his heart repeatedly. The hazy white flashbacks are of you and him symbolizing a couple doing things of what he had did with her.

“ So you and um.. Jimin did you guys sort things out yet?’’

You lift your head from the script instantly biting your lip. You most definitely don’t want to be reminded of him at the moment.

“ No. I like the way things are now. We shouldn’t see each other anymore.’’ You roll your eyes and look back down at the white sheets of stapled paper that holds your acting skills.

“ Im sorry if I offended. I didn’t mean to it’s just that. It’s been a year and a couple of months since-’’

He means no harm at all, and you know that because its Kim Namjoon you’re talking to. This right now though, isn’t a conversation to be held right before rhe video-shoot. You shake your head letting him know not to continue on. The last thing you want is for the makeup and hairstylists gossiping. Also for your emotions to spiral all the way down again.

The hair, makeup, and clothing stylists does a very good job on you. The make up stylists did a sort of natural look to your face which made your skin look light and dewy. The natural makeup complements the oversize, long t-shirt that is supposed to symbolize Namjoon’s.

The first scene you are going to shoot is the bed scene where you will be straddling a sleepy Namjoon’s lap wearing nothing but his t-shirt and your underwear underneath. Which really isn’t your underwear but just some black shorts that you put underneath the shirt.

You spot Namjoon and the director conversing so you decide to make your way over to the bed by them. As you walk over, his manager glances and goes back to talking. You pay no mind to it but then, he does a double take with his eyes wide looking at your outfit and beauty. You cant lie, you do feel a little more confident than usual with this bedroom look.

‘‘ My goodness she looks stunning!’‘ His manager smiles, holding his hand out to greet you. You take his hand and do a courtesy greet due to the fact he’s older than you.

Namjoon eyes you up and down, smiling showing his deep dimples and pearly whites. Since when is he all flirty? Where is all this coming from? What’s getting into him?

‘‘ Yes she does. Are you ready?’‘

You nod your head, glancing at the properly messy bed. The director gives you guys one last look before heading over to his place right next to the cameras. Namjoon grasps your wrists as you both make your way to the bed, letting your ears listen to the instructions.

Namjoon gets into the bed first and then motions for you to sit on his waist. You bite your lip subtlety with your eyes not leaving his as you climb carefully over onto his lap. Your core almost inches away from him member, you don’t mean to brush a little too hard against him like that. The way he hisses and stifles his groan makes you feel apologetic.

Oh Namjoon, what is going on with you?

‘‘ I need you to try waking him up with little kisses on his cheek then down his chest.’’

Glancing down at his bare chest, you almost gasp at the muscles he has. Your mind completely had ignored it when you two were chatting with the director. Namjoon isn’t the kind to work out as much but he definitely prepared for this music video.

You nod your head just before Namjoon closes his eyes to fake his slumber. Leaning down after the director gave you two the green light, you smell his cologne which smells pretty good to say the least. The butterflies in your stomach flutter like no other when you start to leave butterfly kisses on his cheeks, making sure to kiss his dimples then trailing over to his neck.. then chest.

‘‘ Namjoon wake up smiling… right about now.’‘

His eyes flutter open with a smile landing onto yours which makes you smile right back at him.

‘‘ Interlock your hands and hold them up high.’‘

Both of you smile ear to ear and giggle at the awkwardness almost nearly as a real couple except you guys aren’t, and this isn’t real.

It was easy for you to act like you were in love with Namjoon due to the friendship you have with him. Ever since the boys were together in a group, you had connected easily with Namjoon. He has this friendly yet funny aura about him. He’s the sweetest guy you ever met, just before Hoseok. Namjoon was the one who made you feel welcomed and comfortable upon meeting the members for the first time, while you had dated Jimin.

His eyes roam over your body intimidated by the lack of proper clothing you have on. Soon his hands take over and start to roam your body from shoulders to waist. Namjoon often bit his lip as if was thinking of saying something, but doesn’t. At this point you didn’t know if the acting was real or not.

A day’s worth of shooting and this was it. You’ve moved locations just for this scene which is supposed to be in the middle of a vacant two way road surrounded by nothing but dust and a few trees. The last major scene. You had seen Namjoon rap his part repeatedly in different sets for him that did not include you. The dark clothing and light colored hair suited him just right.

The closing scene is the one left and ironically, it’s the make-out scene.

To your left, someone had started a bonfire to keep the staff warm as they converse about the scene and read through the scripts. You huff lightly as you get out of the chair instantly regretting it as the cold air hits your nearly exposed legs.

They’ve dressed you into a maroon skirt and a grey knit sweater that is fairly itchy paired with a knit infinity scarf. Your hair was let down to compliment your face.

‘‘ Yn!’’

You turn your head immediately over towards the direction of that voice. To your luck it’s Jungkook holding a big brown bag and two canisters of god knows what. But who trails after him makes your smile drop.

Jungkook smiles jogging towards you, almost slipping from being excited too see you. You open your arms fully to embrace his figure in which in return he provides.

“ Are you still mad at me?’’

You inhale the scent of him with a smile making sure to make eye contact with the one standing further away from him, “ No Jungkook.”

He lets go of your intertwined bodies and gives you one of his bunny smiles making you giggle at his excitement. “ I bought Namjoon and you some hot chocolate and plenty of rice-cake dumpling soup since you are working hard.”

‘‘ Thank you we will eat after this last scene okay?”

The cameras and lights are beaming down on you and Namjoon. It’s all or nothing at this point. The camera crew and director murmur a bit just before calling out that word. Action.

Namjoon looks slightly down at you with his glossy eyes. You challenge him back while not saying a word at all.

“ Are you comfortable with this?” He whispers. No, truth is you aren’t and have no desire in kissing him. To you, you feel like the kiss would make things a bit awkward for the both of you.

He’d been subtly flirting all day with you and of course you pick up on it everytime. It’s not like yourself to do such things with people you don’t have feelings for in a romantic way. Let alone, flirt with your ex’s band brother.

“ Yes.” It’s not like you have a choice to say no to it. You signed the contract, so you have to complete the entire scenes. Just your luck, Namjoon’s song begins to play in the background.

He leans in for a kiss with your face inches apart from each other. So close that you can feel his eyelashes brush against yours. He’s stalling you, making you try to be the one to start the kiss. A small smirk on his face when you oblige taking him into the kiss. Your lips move in sync with his with his hand on your face caressing your cheek. He thinks your lips taste like strawberry chapstick, but you think his tastes like mint.

Soon his tongue slips into your mouth to deepen the kiss. You can’t help but to let out a small whimper on accident resulting in Namjoon’s hand traveling to your waist and pushing you closer to him gently. Excitment takes over you, you haven’t felt like this in a long time. Maybe it’s the lack of dating or all the couple like things you did today, but you feel loved.

And cut! That’s a wrap everyone, please pack and get home safely.

You break away from Namjoon’s lips and chuckle at the sight of him with his eyes still closed and waiting for something to happen again.

“ Joonie we are done shooting.”

Namjoon’s eyes pop open with a smile, cheeks turning coloured from embarrassment. “ Ah really? Im sorry it’s just that i was too into the moment.”

The both of you thank all the staff for their hard work of day. While bowing to another staff, you make sure to look directly in the eyes of the friend that tailed along with Jungkook. Just as expected he looked pissed off. The sight of him biting the inside of his jaw gave you satisfaction. He fucking deserves it.

“ Can we all eat now? I brought thermal blankets and the bonfire the staff lit is still going..’’ Jungkook says, sitting onto one of the logs and placing the bag onto the ground.

“ We need to speak first.” You say, firmness taking over your tone. You aren’t going to let this slide. Why would he bring him here? After all that happened that night, you’re sure he told Jungkook.

He sighs and motions for Namjoon to start serving while he’s going to be gone. Namjoon gently smiles and approves just before going to sit next to Jungkook’s friend and starting a conversation.

The two of you, Jungkook and you, start walking away from the small gathering slowly. The moon shines bright down upon the both of you creating black silhouettes from behind.

‘’ I didn’t invite him. You know I wouldn’t do that after that whole situation-’’

You purse your lips and stop walking, “ So he just magically came? I didn’t tell him and I doubt that Namjoon told him.’’

‘‘ He found out Namjoon was having his video shoot and came to support him. He came late due to Isab-”

You shake your head, “ Don’t say anymore. Let’s just go back and not bring anything up. I don’t feel like speaking to him or causing drama Jungkook.”

Jungkook can tell that you’re disappointed but does not say a word all the way back. You keep eye contact away from Jimin as you sit next to Jungkook. The atmosphere is awkward for you but you know it isn’t for them.

You munch on a rice-cake dumpling not making a sound as the three boys talk amongst themselves.

You take this time to think. Why would Jimin come here if he possibly knew that you were the main girl? He just set himself up to be mad at this point. Why didn’t Isabel stop him from going, after all you are his ex.

“ Why aren’t you eating?’‘

You look towards that soft voice, plopping your dumpling down into your bowl of soup. The truth is, you actually aren’t supposed to be eating this at all. Seeing as though your modeling and appearance schedule is getting full you have to maintain a healthy figure once again.

‘’ I guess im not as hungry. I’ll make sure to take it with me if I don’t finish.’’

‘‘ Eat.’‘ Jimin says, not lifting his head up but voice firm.

You roll your eyes out of annoyance, “ Im not hungry Jimin.’’ You were, but you say it just to piss him off even more.

His chopsticks drop his dumpling into his bowl as he raises his head slowly. Anger is written all over his face but you over-power it by keeping a straight face. Part of you is mad that you said that but it’s the truth.

‘‘ Oppa. Im Oppa to you.” His eyes meet yours. You can’t help but notice that his are darker than average. You hated calling him that and he knows it. It’s cringey to you, but respectful in their culture.

He didn’t use to make you say it even while in a relationship, so you know he’s playing along with your little game.

Namjoon rubs the back of his head,‘‘ Hey guys let just eat okay? Yn you should eat more.’‘

‘‘ Rather not. My appetite is no longer here.” You shrug as you place the lid onto the container of your food.

Jimin rolls his tongue in the inside of his cheek while keeping a death glare on you. You don’t bother to pay it any mind at all. Jungkook lets out a breathy sigh as you gather your belongings to leave.

‘‘ Im taking my leave.’‘

You give Namjoon a hug first then walk over to Jungkook who hugs you really tight. You smile and give a peck onto his cheek.

‘‘ Text me tonight.’ He whispers into your left ear before letting his grip go. You nod your head and glance at an angry Jimin.

“ I’ll take her home.”

That sentence makes you stop dead in your tracks. What the hell does he think he’s doing?

“ I can get a taxi..”

Jimin finishes his food and throws it into the paper brown bag. Namjoon and Jungkook stare at him in disbelief. The veins on his neck are very noticeable as he makes his way over to you.

You watch in disbelief but angry with your eyebrows furrowed because they all seem to not be listening to you. “ I said I can get a tax-”

“ Yn just go with him. I will feel safer if you went with somebody you know.” Jungkook sighs, throwing him and Namjoon’s remaining trash into the bag.

“ Me and Jungkook have a lot of catching up to do. We’ll be at my house.” Namjoon catches onto Jungkook’s memo.

You roll your eyes as Jimin grabs your arm rougher than expected, dragging you along the vacant two way street to his parked Lamborghini.

You jerk away from him not wanting to be in his grip anymore. Jimin doesn’t say anything as he opens the car door for you. You stand there with your arms crossed refusing to go.

“ Yn you have until the count of three because honestly you are pissing me off. “

Your eyes land onto his with your eyebrows still furrowed in anger.

“ 1.”

You scoff at him. What are you a toddler?

“ 2.”

Yeah right. What could hap-

“ 3 ” Jimin grabs your arm tightly making sure to leave it red as he pushes you into the passengers seat. His cheeks turn a deep shade of red. slamming the car door behind you.

He doesn’t bother to put his seat-belt on before pulling off with Namjoon and Jungkook following behind him. You wince at the throbbing pain where he had marked you red. The soreness is already settling it’s way in.

“ Look..” He sighs, “I didn’t mean to.”

Tears fill the brim of your eyes. This isn’t the same Jimin you knew. He would never even think of hurting you like that.

“ Shut up just take me home.” Your voice cracks, tears slipping down your cheek as you try and massage the pain away.

You don’t say a word to him all the way there to your apartment building. The air is as thick as a slice of home-made cake yet neither of you decide to speak. That is until he decides to follow you out the car and up to your apartment, most likely to make sure you are safe getting in. You stop at the welcome mat that holds your home just beyond the door.

“ Jimin. Leave.” You whisper, audible enough for him to hear.

“ I don’t want to.”

“ I know you’re sorry. Just leave.”

You punch in your code, the date that you and him started dating. You open it enough for just your body to slip in but that doesn’t work. Jimin pushes the door open wide, letting himself in right behind you.

You don’t say anything at all. You remove your shoes as well as he does to. Clara greets you by rubbing her body against you. You don’t bother to pet her you walk past her and into the kitchen.

Pulling out your phone, you text Jungkook letting him know you got home safely. He immediately responds with a selfie of him and Namjoon with Soju in their hands. You can’t even laugh at the two silly boys.

A harsh cold object is placed on your right arm. You quickly look down to see Jimin’s hand holding an ice-pack against the area he harmed.

“ You didn’t tell me you would be the lead girl in Namjoon’s video.”

‘‘ We aren’t together anymore. I don’t have to tell you anything.”

That’s the truth. You two shouldn’t even be in the same apartment, let alone yours, right about now. His business isn’t yours anymore. Yours isn’t his anymore.

Jimin scoffs, “ You know I will always look out for you and look after you. I’ll be there anytime for you.”

‘‘ I feel as though that’s inappropriate. You have a girlfriend don’t cheat on her like you did me.” You remove his hand and hop onto the white counter-top.

“ How many times are you going to say it huh? I was wrong I know that. But why remind me of it?”

You look him dead straight into the eyes, “ Until you suffer for a year and some months don’t say shit to me.’’

There was a silence for a couple of minutes. Your eyes wander around your fairly neat apartment until he says something again.

Jimin sighs, coming in-between your legs placing his head on your lap. ‘‘ I don’t like this.. us.”

“ Clearly you didn’t because you cheated.” You snap back, pushing his head away from you only for him to go right back. “ That’s not what I mean and you know that.” His voice is soft, just barely above a whisper.

So what does he mean?

‘‘ Im saying that.. I don’t like you being this way and distant from me. I don’t like when you kiss other people. I didn’t like when you had to make-out with Namjoon. I don’t like not being able to talk with you. I don’t like all this anger and tension between us.”

Your mind is telling you this is a red flag but your heart aches for him to go on and say what you want him to say. Could this really be it?

“ The truth is, I do miss you. I miss us. I miss everything about us. I fucked up bad and I have to pay the consequences.” His hands snake around your waist tightly.

This is it. Finally.

You bite your lip and run your fingers through his hair softly. Small sobs can be heard from him and the wetness of your leg lets you know he finally broke down.

‘‘ Jimin stop that. Don’t cry.’‘

He shakes his head, ‘’ You don’t understand. She’s not like you but I like her. My heart is with you but my mind is with her. I don’t know what to do.’’

“ You can’t love two people at once. You know that. I refuse to get hurt again by you.” You keep your voice low making sure not to get angry with him. His head lifts up showing you his red face and puffy eyes.

You can’t help but to want to kiss the tears away. So thats what you do. You kiss all over his cheeks slowly one at a time. Yes you don’t want to get hurt again, but you want him to realize that what he did is still taking a toll on you all the while you crave him and his love more and more.

‘‘ Yn..” He whimpers, sniffling.

You shake your head to hush him up and move on to his lips. His sweet, soft lips connect with yours. He opens his mouth to deepen the kiss. Both of your tongues fight for dominance making you hold your breath to stifle your groan. This is wrong. He has a girlfriend. You kissing him would make you a hypocrite, so you break away the kiss though you don’t want to.

You sigh, lifting his head up again. Those brown eyes stare back up at you full of tears and sadness. Yet you can’t be fooled by your own mind. “ Jimin go back to Isabel. She’s probably waiting for you.”

You take his arm and lead him towards the door. He slips his shoes on without taking his eyes off of you. It hurt. It hurts a lot seeing him leave out the door each time he comes over. But you still need to face the fact that this isn’t your man anymore, he’s someone elses.

“ What if I don’t want to go back.”

You unlock the door for him and hold it open. ‘’ You can’t love two people at once.’’

“ Baby, just one last time..’’ He says, referring to the kiss you’ve shared earlier.

You shake your head no. Another kiss would surely lead to something more of a messy situation. “ When you make up your mind, you know my apartment well enough.”

And with that you shut the door behind him as your back slides down the door. You bring your hands to your hair and slip them in.

Maybe, just maybe, there could be a one last time with him.

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spideyspeaches · 4 years ago

Text

Vibrations per minute ↬ P.P

AN: Based on this post ehehe. (Also 223 followers?! I’m not crying you are ಥ‿ಥ Beta read by my baby sis @parkerpeter24 <3<3

➳ Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

➳ Warnings: smut (semi public), vibrator, minors dni

➳ WC: 1.8k +

➳ Masterlist || Taglist

Peter Parker was not who he looked to be. He was the kind of guy who impressed parents with his bambi eyes and A+ academic performances, but at the same time, he could be a little shit and tease the fuck out of you. For example-

Bets were a naturally occurring event in the Avengers compound, whether it was between Sam and Bucky about who could eat the most number of marshmallows in one go or between Tony and Peter on who could digest more amount of coffee in the least amount of time (both of which landed them in the medbay).

So maybe placing a bet with your boyfriend may not have been your most intelligent choice. You were a smart woman, you should have known better than to place a bet with Spider-Man, especially if the bet included cardio.

And now you were facing the consequences.

You were sitting in the post mission debriefing room, thighs clenched as you saw your boyfriend trying (and failing) to hide his shit eating smirk. You felt the vibrations inside you once again, a little faster than before. Suppressing a moan, you tried to glare murder at him without letting the others know.

Puffing your cheeks, you slid down the chair, hands folded on your chest. You were pretty sure your cheeks were blood red with the amount of heat you felt.

"Y/N are you sure you're alright? You look a little flushed." Steve asked, shifting to look at you from where he was besides You. He looked concerned.

"Uh- yeah- yeah I'm good. Just exhausted." You stuttered a response. Huffing, you tried to discreetly rub your stomach from clenching. A little whimper escaped your throat, which you quickly suppressed by picking up the glass of water and chugging down some.

Sam looked at you weirdly, the others not paying attention as Nick Fury asked them questions.

"Miss Stark if you think you're going to get out of debriefing because your little boyfriend and father are sitting here, you're wrong. Please pay attention" Fury said, looking at you with his pirate eye, before turning around and muttering, "I swear sometimes they behave like school children."

You gave Bucky and Sam a glare as they snickered.

"I'm sorry, I'll- uhh- I'll pay more attention. I'm just, my tummy hurts." You whimpered, flushing when you realised you had said "tummy" in front of the Avengers.

"Well you better take care of the tummy ache. Don't want you to poo all over here." Peter smirked, your jaw dropping at how rude the little shit was. How unfortunate would it be when he finds out someone had burnt his Kylo Ren special edition figurine?

"Fuck you asshat." You seethe, your glare intensifying when he increased the rate of vibrations using the phone app he was holding under the desk.

"Y/N, Peter, enough of this, now listen to what Pirate here has to say before he asks you to skedaddle back to your nursery." Your dad says, rolling his eyes at your childish banter.

You wanted to get out of there. Right away, because you couldn't take the shudders in between your legs anymore, or you would orgasm right there, in front of everyone.

So to get back at them, you raised your hand like you were in elementary school, asking the teacher for permission, "May I go to the washroom? I wanna poo." You ask innocently, smirking when Fury widened his eyes.

Averting your eyes to your boyfriend, you silently conveyed your message, hoping that he got what you were up to.

Ignoring the laughter of the babies in the Avengers' bodies, you stood up abruptly before he could change the settings anymore, walking stiffly to the bathroom.

"That was kind of mean of me." Peter finally said when you were out of his vision.

"Yeah kid, I would've kicked your ass if I didn't know that she would do it before me." Tony snarked, curling his lips and shaking his head before going back to the dossier in front of him.

"You should go and apologise to her Pete. She looked upset." Steve piped in, his disappointed eyebrowsTM showing their way.

"She's in the toilet and he's a horny teenager, you really want him to go right now?" Sam said.

"Ew Sam, get your gutter brain out of here!" Peter defended, not meaning what he said.

In fact he was going to do just that. The entire time during the mission, you had been teasing him one way or another, whether it was landing in certain poses or just touching him every chance you get.

The bet was just an opportunity for him to get back at you for leaving him hot and bothered, dreaming about you all night in that tiny lingerie with spider prints on them.

“Yeah Sam, get out of here.” Natasha joked. Before he could witness the counter arguments though, he left the room, leaving a very noisy meeting room and a very frustrated Nick Fury.

He found you in the bathroom stalls near the cafeteria. It was the women's bathroom but no one was around this time of the night, so he entered it.

He could hear your moans and pants, your arousal hitting his nostrils as he tried to hyperfixate on you. His jeans suddenly felt strained at his… web shooter area.

Opening the bathroom door, he clenched his fists. You were standing there, vibrator out of you and your finger inside, eyes scrunched as you threw your head back, not even noticing him enter.

"Why are you touching yourself?" He growled, smirking innocently when you jerked up, eyes taking a lustful look that sent his blood rushing south.

"It's your fault. You were the one who made me horny in the middle of those boomers." You gritted.

Your hand was poised on your waist now, legs still spread apart, your pussy on display.

Grabbing you by your ass, he picked you up and slammed you against the wall, kissing your jaw, "Just seeking revenge." He mumbled

"Oh oh Petey- revenge for what?" You moaned, arching your back as he undressed you, grabbing your now unclothed boob and sucking on one nipple, twisting the other with his fingers.

Moaning at the sensation of the cool tiles, you dug your fingers at his back, your wet pussy throbbing for a feel of his dick.

"You did it on purpose didn't you? Showing off during missions?" He sucked at your skin, leaving it tender and brushed, "you know how hot you look while you kick ass?"

He unbuttoned his pants, letting his dick slip out with his boxers. His length never ceased to amaze you, the thick organ making your mouth water. You imagined it slipping into you, your thighs slipping wider on instinct.

He saw the look you were giving him, his lustful eyes full of mirth and desperation. Without waiting any further, he slipped out a condom from his discarded jeans' pocket, sliding his dick into your wet entrance, your ass hitting the wall as he pushed into your walls.

Throwing your head back, you hissed as your walls clenched around him.

"You get, you get turned on when I kick ass?" You panted, grabbing his hair in desperation to the coiling in your gut, "Fuck I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna come Pete."

"Well what are you waiting for princess?" He nibs your ear, squeezing your breasts to his now naked chest. You shuddered at the coolness of his body, he's always been cold to touch.

"Fuck princess, feel so good." His mouth was slack, his thrusts getting harder as he shoved into you, "so tight for me. Enjoying my cock in your pussy eh?"

"Yes! Oh- I love it Pete I love it!" Hitting your head on his chest, you pinched his nipple, making him groan and hit your stomach, the slapping sound echoing in the bathroom.

"Say it louder pretty girl"

"Why?" You whined, "I should get back to you for using the vibrator but I'm having too much fun."

You groaned, Your eyes scrunched when his thrusts started to slow down, his senses too overloaded to work together with his stamina.

"Yeah you're needy aren't you?" He said, out of breath from your little meet. He set you down, wiping off your cum using the tissue paper, flushing it off in the toilet.

He took a minute to just admire you. Your body was shining from sweat, your breath coming out in short pants. You were completely naked, breasts out to the display. He flushed when you smirked at him, you had caught him staring. Not that you minded.

"My beautiful girl." He said, voice husky from strain as he closed the distance between you both, holding you in his arms.

You laid your head on his chest, rubbing your cheeks against his pectorals. You could hear his racing heart, chuckling when you saw heat rising up his chest to his neck and then face.

"Why are you blushing? We literally just fucked." You laughed, tracing circles on his collarbones. He looked ethereal from where you were standing, perfectly sculpted by a skillful sculptor.

"Because you're amazing and I can't believe you're my girl." He said.

"Mmhm,” You nodded against him, “Also, do you always keep a condom in your pocket?"

__________••☆••__________

There were many reasons as to why you keep around Peter, and one of them is that he's an amazing chef. Living with his aunt and uncle, he and Ben had been the main source of home cooked meals, because Aunt May was never good at cooking.

You saw him standing in the kitchen, flipping pancakes while he hummed to some melody. You didn't mind, you could stare at him all day. Thankfully, none of the Avengers were awake yet (but they would be. They're huge fans of his food)

"Morning." You smile, wrapping your hands around his waist, placing your head on his back.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked, moving around as you clung to him like a koala. Giggling, you wrapped your legs around his waist, jumping on his back like a potato sack.

"Mmhm, the best sleep I've had in a long while." You mumble, words muffled by his back.

"Is that so?" He asked.

"Yup."

Hearing shuffling noises, you quickly jumped off of him, fixing your t-shirt and sitting on the dining table.

You saw as Steve and Sam entered the kitchen, Natasha soon following suit. Clint had left for his home early that morning, wanting to meet Laura and his kids as soon as he could.

You smiled at each of them, nodding a good morning and helping them sort a plate.

You were arranging the plates when you heard a choked gasp. Alarmed at the sound, you looked up at Steve's horrified expression, looking at where he was pointing a finger.

"What?" You asked, biting your lips.

"That- is that a hickey?!?"

Slapping your neck, you let the plate clatter on the table, ignoring Peter's scrambled replies. You saw Bucky entering from the corner of your eye, unable to formulate a coherent answer.

"Oh my god, Bucky they totally fucked yesterday!"

Page dividers by @cicicantblog

#peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x avenger!reader #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader smut #spiderman x stark!reader #spiderman x you #peter parker x stark!daughter #stark!reader #avenger!reader #spideygirl writes

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wayward-mikaelson · 3 years ago

Text

Shallow (Dean Winchester x F! Reader)

Word Count: 4549

About: Set during S15 finale, so SPOILERS. You and the boys pick up a vamp hunt while at a Pie Festival. The hunt ends tragically.

Characters: Dean, Sam, Jody, Cas, Young Dean (s15), Lyla (OC)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F! Reader (Anyone can obviously read it)

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: Language, Angst, Character Death, Depression (mentioned), Time Jumps.

A/N: It's been while since I did a SPN fic! Writing it made me miss the them more!

A/N 2: This might need some tissues.

***This work contains content for the 18 and up crowd, so please read at your discretion. This work is cross posted on other sites. Please don't copy and paste my work; I work too hard on all my stories. You my copy the link to share or you may reblog. I am NOT taking requests at this time. Feedback is welcomed!***

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Supernatural Tags: @lyarr24

Dean/Jensen Tags: @akshi8278 @sandlee44 @squirrelnotsam @thougts-and-funnies

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You laid there, feeling the cool body paint move around on your back. Dean’s gentle fingers tracing over your back could put you to sleep. This had been the most calm and rest you had in the last couple years. You deserved it! Hell, Dean deserved it more than you. He had been fighting longer than you ever had.

Dean and you crossed paths six years ago during a demon hunt. It really was your hunt and you wouldn’t want to admit it, but you really weren’t doing too hot. You were extremely lucky the Winchester’s stumbled across your hunt when they did. If it weren’t for them you’d probably be some demon's meat suit or doing the conga in hell with the devil himself. That was until you learned of where the devil really was a few years later.

You and Dean rarely got along over the first few years. The two of you always butted heads and argued during most hunts. It annoyed Sam so much that he actually told the two of you “Sleep together already! I can’t take the sexual tension and the bickering any longer.”

It didn’t take longer after that for Dean to grab your face and kiss you.

“Are you done back there?” You tried to twist a bit but a hand gently pushed you back into place.

“Nope,” Dean enunciated the word. “Almost. This is going to look epic though.”

“Doesn’t need to be the Sistine Chapel,” You buried your face back into the pillow.

Dean gasped. “Excuse me? Your back deserves a painting better than the Sistine Chapel. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t give you the best?”

You chuckled and mumbled something into the pillow.

Once Dean was finished, he reached for his phone and took a picture of it. “There we go,” you heard the smile in his voice. “Now that’s what I like to call the Sistine Back. Here, take a look.”

You lifted your head to see Dean lay on his side next to you. A huge smile painted his face as he showed the screen of his phone to you. What you saw, had you laughing uncontrollably. “Oh, Dean,” you breathed in between laughs. “This is better than the Sistine Chapel. I love it!”

Dean’s face lit up so bright, it could have brightened up the dimly lit room. “Yeah? Maybe I should get this printed out big enough to fit the ceiling in here.”

You shook your head as laughter took over your body once again. “Oh, God, yes! We can stare at the hamburger and apple pie every night we have sex.”

“Yeah,” Dean pushed you onto your back, getting the body paints onto the sheets under you. He plants a gentle kiss to the base of your neck, making you shiver through your entire body. Dean began to kiss down your body until he got to your belly. He looked up at you with those bright green eyes. Instead of slinking down further, he crept back up and hovered over you. Those eyes seemed to stare right into your soul. This man has shown you more love than any other man, including your father, has ever shown you. “I love you, don’t you ever forget that.”

“Never,” you reached up, wrapped your arms around his necK and pulled him to your lips. “I have a surprise for you.” Twisted to the side and pulled a piece of paper out of the side table drawer and handed it to him. You watched as his face lit up and looked between the paper and your face.

“A pie festival?” The excitement was clear as day in his voice. “Oh, Sweetheart, we are so going to this thing. The three of us. A huge family road trip.”

And that’s what you all did.

It was the best trip you all had. Dean tried every single pie he could get his hands on. You and Sam watched as he ate each slice. Looking like he was in heaven with each bite he took. It made you happy to see him so at peace not worrying about anything. There’s no end of the world evil to take care of. There hadn’t been for awhile.

LIfe seemed to be normal.

“You gotta try this one,” Dean sat next to you with another big box full of piece samples. He gave you a fork and pushed a pie towards you. “Don’t give it that look. It’s a honey apple pie with a tad bit of rosemary. So much sweeter than normal apple pie.” You took a small bite and Dean was right. It was sweeter.

“Not going to lie, that was pretty good,” you went for another bite.

“So, guys, get this,” Sam sat down with a newspaper in hand. Can’t be a fun trip unless Sam had his paper to look at. “There was a kidnapping last night. Father murdered and the mother’s tongue cut out. Both kids are missing.”

“Okay, doesn’t sound like our kind of thing,” you reach for the paper. “Maybe leave it to the local PD?” Suddenly, Dean took the paper from your hands and stared at the picture to the article of the tragic story.

“I’ve seen this before,” he mumbled. “Do we still have Dad’s journal?”

“Yeah, why?” Sam asked.

“I think I’ve seen these masks before.”

And Dean. Once he found the drawing John Winchester drew years ago, they matched the ones in the paper. You guys were looking at a pair of masked vamps and you guys were pretty much the closest hunters to take care of it.

“It’s one little hunt,” Dean shrugged as he checked out the weapons in the trunk. “Why don’t we take care of it and then head on home.”

It didn’t take long for you guys to locate the missing children. They were being held in an old barn on the outskirts of town. There three of you, so it shouldn’t be too hard to fight a small nest of vamps. You guys have taken out larger nests in the past.

“Come on, just this once?” Dean had asked. You peaked your head around the trunk and saw Dean holding up ninja stars with a huge smile on his face. Sam on the other hand just stared at him and shook his head.

“Not this time, man.”

Dean put the stars away while mumblings about how Sam was no fun. You smiled and patted him on the back and told him that there will be another time to use them. Dean gumbled some more and you had to remind him that you book a separate motel room away from Sam and that you brought some fun toys.

Even his favorite one to use on you.

Getting into the barn was too easy. Sam and Dean fought the two vamps that jumped out, making it easier for you to grab the two kids and get them to the impala. Once you strapped them in, you were making your way towards the driver side, you were tackled by one of the vamps.

The two of you wrestled in the dirt until you were able to break away and grab hold of your machete. You get to your feet and are tackled again, this time the vamp pins you firmly to the ground. The vamp removed his mask and bit down onto your neck, making you cry out. When the vamp pulled back, you took that small opening to headbutt him and kick in in the groin. You rolled away and quickly stood up and swung your machete. The vamp's head rolled onto the ground. You looked up and saw the terrified look on the children’s face.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you told them when you opened their door. You pulled the blankets over them and gave them some water and the sandwiches you made. “Drink and eat, we’ll get you home soon.” You heard it go quiet in the barn. It was too quiet and something in you told you something wasn’t right. “Hang on tight,” you closed the door and ran inside the barn.

What you saw, it almost knocked the wind out of you. There, Dean’s back was pressed firmly against a wooden pillar with a pained expression on his face. You ran up to him and looked at the damage and felt the tears fall as your heart begin to break.

Dean wasn’t going to come back from this.

“Dean,” you whispered as you met his eyes.

“I know, sweetheart,” He winced as he spoke. You saw his breathing get deeper and more shallow. “I love you. Don’t you forget that when you find someone else.” You squeezed your eyes shut because there was nothing you can do or say that will change the outcome of this. You felt Dean’s hand on your face pulling you towards his lips.

This kiss wasn’t like past kisses. It was firm and passionate and slow. He wanted you to remember this kiss for years to come. “Until we meet again,” Dean whispered, pressing his forehead to yours.

“Take care of her, Sam,” Dean added.

Everything that followed after that, felt like a dream. Your body felt heavy as you drove the kids to the nearest police station with some story about how you found them. The man that you loved, the man who you spent many nights talking about some kind of future, that man was now gone.

When you got back to the barn, the sun was just beginning to rise. You saw Sam sitting next to a covered up heap and the realization, again, hit you hard. The cover heap was Dean’s body. You stopped the impala and got out. Sam looked up at you with red eyes. You knew he had been crying hard. Probably as hard as you had. Sam got up and effortlessly picked up Dean and placed him in the back seat.

The whole way back to the bunker, neither of you spoke. You just took turns crying and driving. Stopping on the side of the road and just letting the other scream out in whatever pain the two of you had left in your bodies.

Back at the bunker, the two of you worked and got a pyre ready. When it was ready, you watched as Sam carried his big brother's body and gently placed it on the wooden display. You stood, with Miracle standing next to you. She had been whimpering off and on. She knew Dean was up there. You knelt down and let her nuzzle you while you let some more tears fall. Miracle was all you had left of Dean now.

Sam had some trouble lighting the pyre so you went up and helped it light it. Soon, the pyre and Dean were on fire. Then the two of you stared at it until it was nothing but ash.

***

You sat in Jody’s spare room while Miracle laid at your feet. You still wished all of this were a dream because neither you nor Sam, could adjust to the new reality that Dean was gone. So the two of you packed up what you could and left the bunker.

You guys drove until you were on Jody’s doorstep at midnight. She knew something was wrong when she looked deeply into your faces and asked where Dean was. When she saw the tears in your guys eyes, her whole face fell. She pulled the two of you into the tightest hug and held on tightly as the three of you cried silently.

A gentle knock on your door startled you. You got up and answered the door and saw Sam standing there. He was dressed in fresh clothes holding two cups of coffee.

“Are you, uh, doing okay?” Sam asked as you took the coffee from him. “I know it’s a stupid question but…”

You gave a pained smile, “I know I’ll be okay, but I feel like I won’t be okay. I’ve tried praying to Jack but I’m pretty sure he’s busy fixing Heaven.” You recount the hours you cried out to Jack about the loss of Dean. You cried about how you wanted him back. You cried about how you were supposed to move on from an epic love like that. You cried about how you just missed him and needed him to make it better.

“Same here,” Sam ran his hands through his hair. “I’m going to go look at places, apartments, that we can share and see what kind of jobs we can get. Do you want to come along?”

You took a deep breath and looked at the ground. “Not today, maybe tomorrow. I really want to spend time alone and process these last couple days.”

“Okay, no worries,” Sam nodded his head. “I’ll see you when I come back.”

“Okay.”

You waited until Sam had been gone for an hour to pack your bags again and head down stairs. You were in the process of opening the door when you heard someone behind you. Turning around you saw Jody standing in the entryway with you. She didn’t say anything, she just pulled a pair of keys out of the bowl next to her and handed them to you.

“Call me when you're safe,” she placed a hand on your face and gave you a smile. “I can’t bear to lose another kid.” A few tears slipped down her cheek.

Agreeing to call her, you slipped out the door and to the car Jody let you use. You got in and made sure Miracle was settled in the passenger seat. Then you were on your way out of town. You weren’t sure where you would go but you knew you needed to get far away from everything.

You needed to start fresh somewhere.

***

Years have passed and you’ve found that the pain of losing Dean has lessened. You’re able to have random memories of him without crying or hours and days on end. You were able to wake up without feeling like there was a hole on your chest. You were finally able to tell Sam why you ran after you were states away. You promised him it would be for a bit and that you’ll contact him.

Sadly, that day never came.

Two months after losing Dean you began to feel sick. You weren’t sure if it was the stress of losing Dean or starting a new life or both. So, off you went to the doctors and there you sat on the papery bed feeling like you were hit by a truck. The words that the doctor told you, they echoed around in your head.

“And the father?” the words were almost like a whisper in your already loud and spinning head.

“What?” you shook your head.

“That father?” the doctor repeated. “What do you know about the father?”

You took a deep breath and looked at the ground. “Um, he’s not in the picture.” Your voice had been quiet. Your heart felt like it had been breaking all over again. Part of you couldn’t believe this was happening. Part of you believed it, Dean and you were never really safe when it came to sex.

“One night stand? We do have options,” the doctor began to say.

“No no,” you shook your head. “The father, he’s um...he passed away.” You choked on the words. Hearing it out loud, made his death all the more real.

“My apologies,” The doctor whispered.

You took the pamphlets and walked out of the doctors. You didn’t know what you would do. This was all so new and all so painful at the same time. Dean was supposed to be here with you whenever this happened. In the end, you chose to keep the baby. You called Jody and Donna and told them, making them both promise not to tell Sam.

Over the years, you heard about Sam through Donna and Jody. He got married and had a kid of his own. You wanted to reach out but at this point it had been years and the two of you had settled into non hunting life. It wouldn’t be fair to disrupt it.

As more years passed, you saw Lyla become more and more like her father. She had his green eyes and his smile. She was smart and would get her hands on just about anything and that made you wonder, where did she get that from. Smart brains ran on both sides. Maybe something from Sam or something from your father. She loved pie just as much as Dean, and you’d take her to the pie festival every year.

As Lyla grew, she asked about Dean from time to time and you told her what you could. You also told her that when she turned into an adult you would tell her more, that telling her while she was young and child wouldn’t be safe or wise. In the meantime, you told her all the things asked about.

“What was Daddy’s favorite food?”

“What did Daddy like to do for fun?”

“What was Daddy’s favorite color?”

“Did Daddy have a favorite movie?”

The questions were endless, but you loved to answer them. Then one day, Lyla came up to you one morning, her dark hair looking like a bird's nest. Her face was beaming with happiness.

“Mommy,” Lyla’s voice was an octave higher. “Did you know, Daddy is in Heaven?”

You almost choked on your coffee. “What, Sweetie?”

“Daddy, he’s in Heaven. An angel told me,” she walked off and grabbed her stuffed chicken, one that she named Chickie Meow Meow, and hugged it tightly.

“What angel?” you asked. You got up and began to check all your warding, the ones that kept the bad creatures out. Everything seemed to be in place, even that salt that still blended in with your window panels. Then you checked to see if Lyla still wore the anti-possesion charm necklace you had made for her. She still did. “What did the angel look like?”

“He wore a funny brown jacket,” she answered. “He said his name was Cas. He wanted me to tell you that Daddy is fine. That they are looking over us.” You pulled Lyla into a hug and let some tears fall.

***

You walked into that old abandoned barn. You had left Lyla with Jody for the weekend. You sat down and placed all that you needed to summon Cas. You didn’t want to pray, you knew Cas all too well, he probably wouldn’t show up. But if you summoned him, you knew he had no choice but to come and see you. You lit the match and dropped it into the bowl and waited.

“Y/N” The deep, rough voice said your name.

You turned to see Cas standing there. In the same thing that he had been taken away in. But it was cleaner. “How are you alive?” you asked outright.

“Jack, he brought me back,” Cas took a few steps closer to you. “You know you could have prayed and I would have come.”

“But would you?” you gave the angel a smirk and raised your eyebrows.

“I did it for Lyla,” Cas looked into your eyes. “She prayed about Dean and wanted to know if he was in Heaven. I thought it best that it was me to come to her.”

You looked down, you couldn’t bear to look into the angel's blue eyes. You always assumed things and that always backfired and kicked you in the ass. “Then why didn’t you come to me when I cried out to you or to Jack?”

“I did,” Cas closed the distance and placed a hand under your chin and lifted your face to meet his eyes. “Each night that you cried yourself to sleep, I was there sitting at the foot of your bed. Each night that you drank yourself to sleep, before you found out you were pregnant, I sat there and rubbed your back the way Dean told me too. Then when you were in that delivery room all by yourself, I was there to make sure things went smoothly. Then when you were sleeping, I memorized everything there was about Lyla. I have watched over the two of you these last nine years. Dean would be so proud of how far you have come.”

You stood there and cried silently as Cas spoke. “Cas,” you whispered, wiping the tears from your face. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I can’t be on Earth as much, Jack and I are still fixing Heaven but I can tell you that Dean is waiting for you.” Cas moved his hand to your shoulder. “I have to go, but I was told to tell you, I love you by Dean.”

Then you were alone.

***

Twelve year passed and you’re helping Lyla with a college event. She had just turned twenty-one and was nearly done with her bachelor degree. At this point, she knew all that there was to Dean. She knew he was a hunter, that he saved the world countless times, that he had some faults, and so on.

Lyla knew of what goes bump in the night. She’s read every note and the journal you kept during the time you had been hunting. When she asked if Dean kept one, you had told her that he didn’t. That he used his fathers and you weren’t sure where that ended up. Lyla even went above and got whatever protection tattoos down her spine.

So, while you’re helping Lyla you had a boy, about nineteen years old come up to the booth and look around. He looked familiar to you. He wore a long sleeve flannel, that was probably why. Sam and Dean always wore flannel. That was probably why and it made you miss the younger Winchester. You should have kept in contact with him or at least told him of Lyla.

“Y/N?” A familiar voice called out to you.

You turned around and your heart just about fell from your chest. There standing with grey hair, was Sam Winchester. He hadn’t changed too much except for the hair and the fact that he wore glasses. He still looked like the Sam Winchester you knew all those years ago.

“Sam?” You crossed your arms.

“The one and only,” he smiled. “What are you doing here?”

Before you could answer, Lyla came up to you. “Mom, we’re going to need some more pamphlets, we’re just about out.” You turned to Lyla who saw Sam. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“It’s okay, take my keys and you can go print some out at the UPS down the street,” You motioned to your bag.

After Lyla had left you turned back to Sam who had watched her the whole time. It was like he knew. “So, you have a kid too?” You heard the tone in his voice. Lyla looked so much like Dean these days, you knew someone from your past was bound to notice. Sam most of all.

“Yeah,” you answer quietly. “Her name’s Lyla.”

“Cool, that’s great you found someone to populate the Earth with,” Sam gestured towards you. That tone he held was still there. The look in his eyes was the very same one he used on you when he called you out on yours and Dean’s sexual tension.

“You know, don’t you?” you lowered your arms.

“She looks a lot like Dean,” Sam whispered. “Is that why you ran? Is that why I never heard from you?” You stared at Sam and tried to hold back your emotions. “Dean’s final words were to take care of you. I failed at that when you ran.”

“You failed when you didn’t come and look for me,” you lashed out. “I thought you would have looked for me despite everything I told you. You should have found me. Then I find out through Jody your married and have a kid, I thought it best not to mess up what you got for yourself.”

Sam stared at you and nodded. “I should have and I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” you whispered and looked around. The boy in the flannel was still there. Then it hit you. “Is that?”

“My son,” Sam’s face lit up brighter than you’ve ever seen it. “His name is Dean.”

For the next five years you kept in touch with Sam. You guys spent holidays and birthdays with each other. That was, until you got sick and the doctors couldn’t help you. So, in your hospital room, Sam sat beside you. He wasn’t doing too well either, but he held your hand and smiled at you.

“Tell Dean I said hi,” were the last words you heard.

***

When your eyes opened again, you were sitting on a bench. Around you was a field of just plain old grass and a few trees. You knew this place all too well. You stood and realized you were back in your younger body. Having that kind of movement again, it was amazing. You began to walk around, feeling the warmth of the sun on your skin. It all felt nice and it made you smile.

“Hey, Sweetheart.”

You spun around at the familiar sound. There he stood, looking handsome as ever in his jacket and leaning against the Impala with that heartwarming smile. “Dean,” you said his name like he hadn’t been dead for almost three decades.

Dean pushed himself off the impala and closed the distance between the two of you. He placed a hand on your cheek and brushed his calloused thumb over it. You closed your eyes and took in the touch. “You know, time is different up here. It doesn’t feel like it’s been twenty-six years.” Then he pressed his lips to yours and the feel almost knocked you off your feet.

“Are we allowed to kiss in Heaven?” you pulled away from him.

“I don’t think Jack minds,” Dean smiled and gathered you into his arms and pressed his lips more firmly to his. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed yourself against him. “Wanna go for a ride?” He asked when he pulled away.

“Sure, I missed this beauty.” You ran your hand along the impala and just as you were about to get in, Dean staring at you caught your eye. “What?”

“Cas says you had a baby,” Dean crossed his arms on top of the hood. “I have to ask…”

You smiled at him and leaned on the hood as well. “She’s yours and she’s incredible. Loves pie just like her daddy. I thought Cas would’ve told you.”

“Time moves differently up here,” Dean repeated what he said earlier. “What’s her name?”

“Lyla,” you smiled. “Lyla Winchester.”

“I wish I got to know her,” Dean spoke softly.

“You will,” you got into the passenger side. “I can tell you all you want about her.”

Dean followed you into the impala. “I don’t have to worry about some random dude coming here and claiming you as his wife or something?”

“Nope,” You sat back. “Now drive or I’ll start walking.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

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soundsof71 · 4 years ago

Photo

FIVE ALBUMS YOU NEED IN YOUR LIFE RIGHT NOW!!!

aka, My Top 5 of 2020, but I didn’t want to seem too retro!

Yep, I have a classic rock blog. Yep, I think that the best rock and roll in history is being made RIGHT NOW. And yep, ALL of it is being made by women.

(Shown at top, Nova Twins by Ant Adams [x] and The Tissues by Michael Espleta [x]. I was planning to make a collage of all my faves in concert, but not all of them were able to play in 2020. Both of these photos are pre-pandemic.)

There’s been quite a bit of movement on this list, and all five of these have spent some time at Number 1 as the year has done (gestures broadly) All This™. Anyone looking for rock and roll is going to dig any of these.

Rocking out is just the start of it, though. Wrestling with my bipolarity and schizophrenia is tough on a good day, and there haven’t been too many of those lately. The plague has also taken its toll around me, with two family members dead and a third who’s doing better, but will likely never be all the way back. (Mask up, kids!)

I’ve written plenty about how deeply Taylor Swift and Phoebe Bridgers have moved me this year (and will do so again), but in those rare stretches where I’ve had enough spare energy to listen to music at all these days, I’ve mostly been looking for more than beautiful music. Heavy times need heavy lifting, and I find that in heavy music.

The five albums here have all helped carry me, pointing the way toward light.

1) BULLY, SUGAREGG

Alicia Bognanno is a force of nature as a guitarist, vocalist, composer, and producer/engineer. (While working on her degree in audio engineering at MTSU, she interned with Steve Albini, who remains both a fan and an admirer). A Nashville transplant from Minnesota, she’s still a natural fit in her home on Sub Pop: as heavy as Soundgarden, as hooky as Sleater-Kinney.

I was blown away hearing her searing honesty while working through her discoveries of her bisexuality and bipolarity (double bi!), and her triumphant roar lifts me out of my seat every time I listen.

“She sings the hell out of [these songs], her voice fraying to the point of combustion every time she launches to the top of her range. This is phenomenal music for converting anger and anxiety into unbound joy.” ~Stereogum, Album of the Week

Also, check this fantastic interview with Alicia in the New York Times talking about what she’s gone through to get here.

TURN IT UP!

youtube

2) GANSER, LOOK AT THAT SKY

Ganser syndrome is a rare dissociative disorder characterized by nonsensical or wrong answers to questions and other dissociative symptoms such as fugue, amnesia or conversion disorder, often with visual pseudohallucinations and a decreased state of consciousness. ~Wikipedia #it me

‘Just Look At That Sky’ doesn’t presume to offer solutions; it’s an honest document of what it feels like to wade through anxiety, day by day, not a survival guide or handbook of answers none of us actually have. Whether or not you pay attention to this, Ganser are simply one of the most invigorating, exciting new bands. ~Clashmusic

I saw one very positive review compare Ganser to a cross between Fugazi and Sonic Youth, but I think they hit much, much harder than either of those. And as you can surely guess, I also deeply relate to their themes of mental illness and dissociation while trying to make it through All This™. But my god, are they TIGHT. This is a BAND.

Ganser has two fantastic lead vocalists, and on “Bad Form”, bassist/vocalist Alicia Gaines wrote the song for the voice of keyboardist/vocalist Nadia Garofolo. Alicia also wrote a FANTASTIC essay on the strains that making an album during a pandemic puts on the mental health of the entire band at talkhouse: “Writing, recording, reaching out, balancing relationships outside and within the band, I found (and still find) myself under-rested and agitated to no particular end. More than not doing enough, I was not enough.”

(If you can’t relate to that, I can’t relate to you, tbh.)

This video also does a fantastic job of showing dissociation. TURN IT UP!

youtube

3) THE TISSUES, BLUE FILM

“Blue Film” is a ten-song shot of dagger-twisting electro-(s)punk. It’s completely addictive from the very first listen. The tour de force is “Rear Window”, an art-punk masterpiece of slashing guitars and mad caterwauling. Copious doses of jaunty poetics and social commentary reward the earlooker patient enough to untangle Kristine Nevrose’s hysterical meowing about intergalactic salt shakers and hysterectomies, but I’m too emotionally invested to look under the hood.” ~ Sputnik Music

“Rear Window” is in fact my most-played 2020 track. TURN IT UP!

youtube

4) GUM COUNTRY, SOMEWHERE

It’s not all heavy! But even when I’m looking for something light and hooky, I need a bite, and Gum Country has done it with the kind of swirly, feeedback-laden wall of sound that Lush or Yo La Tengo would make if they lived in LA. (Recent transplants to SoCal from Vancouver, I do think that the sunshine has gone straight to their heads, in the very best way.)

Indie music nerds will know guitarist/composer/singer/front woman Courtney Garvin from The Courtneys, and she really does throw up a glorious wall of sound. I adore this video too! Sweet, swinging, fun -- and yes, the drummer is playing keyboard with one hand while slapping the skins with the other!

I mentioned earlier that all five of these albums have spent part of the year at #1 on my list -- I think that this one might have spent the longest stretch there. Like all shoegaze, even as hooky as this, the truth of these songs is revealed in VOLUME. TURN IT UP!

youtube

5) NOVA TWINS, WHO ARE THE GIRLS?

Now, THIS is heavy! Amy Lee (vocals, guitar) and Georgia South (bass) are fucking LOUD, and insanely intense. A mix of grime, hip-hop, metal, punk, and good old rock and roll, they’re a harder-hitting, more theatrical Prodigy, with a pyre of intensity that recalls the heaviest howls of Rage Against The Machine. Indeed, Nova Twins spent a good bit of 2019 playing heavy metal festivals and toured as openers for Prophets of Rage. (Tom Morello has been a fan and supporter from the beginning.)

As you may have noted in the photo at the top of this post, their musical audacity extends to visuals too: they design their own clothes, hair, and makeup, they art direct their own videos, and more. They impress the hell out of me, and I’ve been a huge fan since hearing their first singles in 2018. I’ll plant a flag and say that Georgia South in particular is the most innovative musician on any instrument in any genre right now, but they’re both absolutely monsters.

I’m honestly not at all sure that #5 is high enough for this, but I’m absolutely certain that after this video, you’re gonna need to rest for a little. LOL

“Taxi” is the story of two gleefully and creatively violent women shaking up the local crime syndicate as they use a vintage cab for their moving murder scene. This is the movie that Robert Rodriguez wishes he was making with Sin City, if it were combined with Blade Runner and The Matrix. And gangsters. And a snake.

I’m gonna take your crown I’m gonna, I’m gonna bleed you out We demand it by the hour We devour, control, power

I’m gonna burn it down Even the, even the royals bow

So not the same kind of therapeutic work being explored on this rekkid, but you know what? Fucking shit up is therapeutic too!

Definitely take this full screen, and for the love of fuck, TURN IT UP!

youtube

SO. Not done with the best of 2020 yet? I’m sure not! A lot of my favorite songs aren’t on albums (at least not yet), so for an unedited list of everything I’m finding, check out my Spotify list, 2020: Shuffle This List! 268 songs and counting, over 15 hours, and not finished yet. I’m still checking out everyone else’s Best of lists (including yours! Message me links to yours!!!), so will probably be adding to this for most of 2021, too.

And for more banging tracks by women from 2020, plus a few 2019 gems that I’m still grooving to, check out my more thoroughly curated Spotify playlist Women Bangers: A Tumblr New Classics Jam. (You’ll see a couple of these tracks there!) I’m working on a YouTube playlist and an essay to properly roll that one out. I’m also still tweaking the ending, but the three dozen or so tunes there are definitely bangin’.

Tell me if you hear anything you dig here, and tell me what YOU’VE found! We’re gonna get through this together.

Yr pal, Timmy

#me #new classics #classic rock #women in rock #best of 2020 #bully #ganser #the tissues #gum country #nova twins #essay #youtube #punk rock #punk

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nightswithkookmin · 4 years ago

Note

First, this is my THIRD TIME I send you my question. If you don't response I move.

Second, why still jikook shippers exist when jimin & jungkook was barely communicate. The fact, we can't ignore that, jimin & Jungkook avoid each other. Something between them was not good. I really miss their genuine interaction. Other hand Jk seems normal with other members. WHY?

👀 Ok but I'm really doing my best here 😒

There's literally 400 plus unanswered Asks in my inbox. If I answered one Ask each day it will still take like a whole year to clear my inbox and there will still be some unanswered Asks sitting in there.

Besides, I think I have answered this exact question? I have said I believe Jikook experienced a hiccup in their relationship between October and November last year post JM's birthday but I don't believe they broke up. Not sure how many times you want me to repeat that.

Most of the content with 'no interaction' and 'tension' between them were filmed around the same period within this timeline.

I will uploading a blog on that timeline soon. I have a rough draft of it sitting in my drafts somewhere. I've been answering a lot of Asks lately and I just haven't had time to write an actual blog post. Sigh.

Why Jikook Shippers still exist...

I ask myself this question every single day darling- why do people still ship Jikook when Jikook is more than a ship? They should be supporting them not just shipping them.

Also, I don't think real Jikook supporters support Jikook just because they interact. Those are the shippers. The trad shippers as I like to call them. I support Jikook because they are queer first and foremost and secondly because they are in love with eachother.

Just because they 'don't interact' in a moment, on camera, don't make them all of a sudden straight. It doesn't work like that.

Jimin is my bias and I know beyond a shadow of doubt he is queer. I love him more for it. I really love him more for it. You have no idea. I am not going to withdraw my support for him as an LGBTQ plus member in a conservative space just because he isn't interacting on camera with another member. That's just silly.

The love between them isn't going anywhere anytime soon. As long as they both want it and they both go out of their way to nurture it, it will always be there. I think that's what you should be paying attention to- whether or not they are nurturing their bond outside their interactions on camera during this period.

Because if they are not, then that's when they will become a real fanservice ship. No shade to a certain ship💀

JIMIN AND JK AVOID EACHOTHER. WHY?

Well damn I got nothing. Lol. My crystal ball is on the fritz. Would have to call Dumbledore for assistance. Help, Dumbledore! Lol.

Jokes aside, I see what you mean. But I keep saying Jikook are not broken up. It hasn't been smooth sailing all 7 years you know- ok take a few years. I don't think it will be either going forward either.

Jikook are not jikooking all the time. It's part of the contract they have with us. Lol. Sometimes it's because they are having relationships problems, other times it's their environment, a producer they ain't vibing with, bad hair day, the members getting on their nerves- a myriad of reasons Anon. A ton. I can only speculate. Could be anything from a break up to a lost change. Know what I mean?

They do have issues from time to time. They are human too. Sometimes they hide it behind smiles and perform knock off versions of their bond for us.

Other times they choose not to perform their bond, especially if whatever they are dealing with is serious- if it is, they set boundaries and respect eachother's boundaries to allow them to emotionally process and deal.

Most times too they push and poke at eachother's boundaries till the other cave. Especially if one of them feel whatever is getting in their way is a trivial issue.

During Jin's birthday VLive in December, they sounded a lot like they were enjoying eachother's company to me- apart from the part JM was throwing shade at us left right left, I didn't sense any tension between them then.

Chilee JM, whatever did we do to you?🤧

All we did was call you 'a liar' once and now you just keep rubbing your relationship in our face?😥 You really didn't have to tell us you were with Jungkook when Jin put you on speaker.😒 You really didn't. You knew he was putting you on speaker. Acting like Jin was bothering you or something. I see you. Smirk.

Their moments at GDA and the end of year award shows were equally telling of the state of their relationship.

In some content post Grammy you could see them hanging in the background playing games and what not.

Arriving together at KBS in the same car at 5am, leaving set together at 1am and heading lord knows where- cough, Itaewon.

Then this happened... was JK high? Chilee.

Like I know my bias is sexy and fine but JK you don't have to be scanning him like that😭

I've been saying, Jikook 'relax' in certain contents, act serious in others- as they should. They literally had the GMA performance before this shoot and people were screaming there was tension between them and what not and that JK seemed mad at Jimin. Mad bunny where?! Lmho.

The 'less open' one in that performance was JM not JK. To me. I felt he was putting up a tough exterior, acting like he don't kiss ass in that time period. Not sure if it was the haircut or his inner shadow hunter but something had shifted in him. Lol.

You could tell JK really wanted to show off their bond and chemistry in that event, and had perhaps wanted JM to engage like he'd done with him in previous performances?

But JM wasn't doing none of that for whatever reason- No, I don't think it was because he was mad at JK.

He just wasn't on his Jikook agenda.

They enjoy eachother and when they get lost in a moment it's usually for them not us. But they know and are well aware we like their bond and we love to see it. You'd often hear them, JM especially, ask the fans if they like certain moments especially after he's interacted with JK in a certain way or shared certain intimate details about their relationship with fans at fansigns.

They troll us, they tease us, they include us in certain moments- Jk deliberatly stealing JM's tear stained tissue( a reenactment of a popular Korean sitcom where a creepy ass lady stole her crushes used tissue to convey she adored him) him pointing at JM to indicate he desires JM, slowly taking off his shirt while holding JM's gaze, the you are me, I am you, what's tasty in Busan and all these other moments.

They each have their own Jikook agenda. But they are both not always in on it. Sometimes JM has no idea what JK is up to, other times it's JK who's clueless. Like the Holiday remix video where JK bolted after that intense fanservice moment with JM.

I don't think he knew JM was going to do what he did. It was shock and desire rolled into one for him. I just know it. Lmho.

As I said, the director probably had whispered something in JM's ear and had asked him to give them a moment.

JK was probably having wedding dreams flashbacks. His entire Itaewon gay future flashed before his eyes. I'm dead. Lmho.

Jk'd initiate in moments where JM wasn't initiating (during performances) and he'd bump shoulders or just shamelessly wrap his hands around Jimin and have a moment.

Same energy from JK different periods in the timeline- one before Grammy, one after.

May be you should be paying close attention to the things they do when they 'don't interact?' What they do when they do interact. Who initiates, whether the other reciprocates or not etc? The setting and environment equally counts as well.

Literally these two contents were filmed on the same day but half the fandom was screaming there was something off with Jikook in one just because Jikook didn't touch eachother.

JK was hesitating to initiate skinship with JM in one content, but didn't in the other- on the same day. What gives??

Contents filmed with Suga, Tae in dark hair, JM with an undercut were all filmed after 11th October and before 3rd November when Suga had his Surgery.

Content with JM in blue hair were filmed after 24th November.

JK's mood was pretty consistent to me till the pop up in late October, the holiday remix filmed after 3rd November but before Grammy, the Grammy reaction on 24th November and the recent run which was also filmed after Grammy where he seemed mostly closed off to JM's Jikook agenda- do you see what I mean when I say all those moments on 'tension' you and others mention were filmed within the same period?

Jimin's reaction has equally been consistent, going from putting up a tough exterior to being mellow and somewhat humbled or subdued.

Make of it what you will.

Not sure what you mean by genuine interactions. I think you have to embrace all aspects of them and their relationship. They have 'genuine' moments, they have fan service moments, they have good days, they have bad days. Sometimes they don't interact at all.

It's ok to miss them. But don't demand that they change or interact in a certain way to suit your shipping desires. That's dangerous.

They are human.

Signed,

GOLDY

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imanativeofswlondondahling · 4 years ago

Text

Being A Star (4)- Peter Parker x Stark!femReader

Count: 2071

Warnings: Language as Steve would say

Author’s Note: Here’s the next chapter! Let me know what you think or if you want to be added to the tag for future chapters!

Becoming A Stark || Chapter One Being A Stark|| Masterlist

Life finally feels normal again. At least as much as it can for missing five years in the middle of your life, having a new sister, and living in a new house. But your dad is home which is the biggest thing. Dr. Cho is talking about having to send him to a specialist to deal with the after effects on his arm, but for now she’s let him come home with the sling holding the dead weight of his arm. The marks freak Morgan out so Tony has been wearing a lot of flannels over his arm so she doesn’t have to see it. You’re not supposed to know, but you overheard your parents talking about how Dr. Cho thinks most of your dad’s arm will probably need to be cut off. She hadn’t done it in hopes of saving it, but her messages about your dad’s case with the specialist said there is little hope that the arm can be saved. Especially since it’s causing your dad pain, which you didn’t know. You try to imagine your dad without his arm, but it just doesn’t seem right.

A knock on your door pulls you from your thoughts. “Shouldn’t you be asleep kiddo? You’ve got the second first day of ninth grade tomorrow?”

“In which I will be the only one starting the year since everyone else started last week.” You say with a roll of your eyes as Tony walks over to sit on the edge of your bed.

“Even so, you’re not one to stay up late on a school night unless you have homework and seeing as I know you already finished it…” He trails off. “Wanna talk about it?” You slide towards the left side of your bed to make room and Tony moves to sit next to you. His good arm wraps around your shoulder and you lean into the smell of him, cinnamon from his cologne and mint from his aftershave. The only scent missing was the smell of him being in the lab, but until he was cleared to work on things like his cars and other science projects, he was restricted from going into the garage.

“I, uh, heard you and Mom talking the other night.” You say softly. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you were going back to your room after using the bathroom and had heard them from the top of the stairs.

“Heard us? Talking about?” Tony asks, not following what you’re talking about.

“Your arm. How they might cut it off.”

“Ah.”

“How you’re in pain.” You mutter the words.

“I wasn’t keeping that from you, if you’re up late feeling bad about overhearing it.” You look up at him. “Your mom and I were going to talk to you about it after meeting with the specialist. We didn’t want you to be worrying if you didn’t need to be.”

“I’m not up because I felt bad.” Your bottom lip slips between your teeth as you pull at some of the skin there. “I don’t like that you’re in pain.”

“I feel the same way when you hurt kiddo. But that’s what this appointment is about. They think the stones did something to the tissue and nerves. They think it’s basically corrosive. So by taking the arm away, it would hopefully stop the pain.” Your eyebrows fall together as you think about this.

“But how would that affect everything else?”

“Well, I will have to use a prosthetic. And I’ll have to relearn how to do some stuff. But if it gets rid of the pain it will be worth it. Maybe Bucky will teach me all about having a detachable arm.”

“That guy who was bad but now isn’t, that’s a friend of Steve’s?” You ask, having heard the name but never having met the guy.

“That’s the one. He was brainwashed for a little bit into being a bad guy. But he’s all better now. I wouldn’t risk myself being around him if he wasn’t. And he did help us fight Thanos.” He smiles at you. “I think that makes him a good guy.”

“Fuck Thanos.” You mutter.

“Summed up my feelings entirely.” Tony says as his hand rubs your shoulder slightly.

“How do you just jump back into life after being gone for five years?” You ask the other question that has been simmering in your mind for the past few days. “Like my life just stopped? How do I get that back?”

“You seem to be doing a good job at getting it back so far. Hanging out with Mom and Morgan and your favorite old man.” He teases.

“Dad, I’m serious.” You lean into him as you let the words leave your lips. “The past couple weeks have… they felt like they are a part of my new life. But by going back to school, I’m having to be old me all over again? How do I just slip back into that?”

“New life?”

“My old life didn’t include a little sister or waiting for my dad to come home from being injured. It was a whole different thing. I’m in a new house, I haven’t had to do anything that seems like things I would have done before I just poofed.” You didn’t want to admit it, but you had been avoiding Peter partially for that reason. Peter was pre Blip. Morgan was post Blip. How do you make them go together?

“What things are you nervous about having to deal with?”

“I…. I’m scared it will all go away again.” You admit. Every day when you wake up, you feel like crying that you’re still there.

“Being scared is a normal reaction. We all get scared sometimes.”

“You’re Iron Man. You’re saying you get scared? You literally save the world.”

“I lost you. I lost half the universe. I wake up at night and think that you’re still gone. I’m scared I’ll wake up and this will all be a dream. There’s stuff from before the Blip that still causes me to have panic attacks. I get scared easily kiddo. I’m far from perfect at dealing with things.”

“And how do you deal with all of it?”

“I lean on Pepper. I hug you and Morgan as close as humanly possible. I tried therapy once, but should find a different doctor. I tinker. I focus on the things I can control.”

“So I should just keep going even if I’m scared?” Tony nods slowly.

“Is this fear why I haven’t seen a certain Spider-boy around?” You bite the inside of your cheek and don’t answer. “I may not like the idea of you dating people for selfish reasons, but I know he makes you happy. So maybe lean on him instead of pushing him away? Just a suggestion.”

“I…” You trail off, not knowing if you should voice the other thought going through your mind.

“You…?”

“Have you ever thought about how the world would look without you in it?”

“Sure, in a dark moment. Why do you ask?” Tony’s concerned but wants to see where you’re going with this.

“I left, and you guys just moved on. So what’s the point of slipping back into what I did pre Blip if everyone was fine without me?” You ask, not looking at your dad. You find you can’t meet his eyes after saying it.

“We continued living. But we didn’t move on.” Tony wishes he had two working arms so he could pull you into a tight hug and not let go.

“You had a whole other kid while I was gone. How is that not moving on?”

“Morgan was on her way before you Blipped.” You look up at your dad with all the confusion you’re feeling painted across your features. “If the Blip had happened seven weeks later, you would have Blipped knowing that you had a sibling on the way. The last thing we wanted to do after losing you, was try to replace you. And Morgan could never replace you.” He pulls you in closer with his good arm. “I came back from being lost in space with Nebula, thinking I was going to have to tell you I lost your boyfriend. Then I took my first step off the ship and my eyes were searching for you and Pep- hoping I didn’t lose my family. But the moment I saw Pepper’s eyes, I knew it. She didn’t even have to say it. And when I knew you were gone, my whole world fell apart. It felt like my heart had been ripped out. I was sure my lungs were being crushed. I couldn’t breathe. I had a panic attack in front of the remaining Avengers because we lost, but more importantly I lost you, my kid. It took a week before I could even talk to anyone besides Pep. Nearly a month before I could manage to talk about anything Avenger related. It hurt too much. I broke the one promise I swore I wouldn’t. I swore I would keep you safe and I hadn’t done that. I was across the galaxy as you faded into dust. So I promise you Y/N, we never moved on. We just did what we could to make losing you not hurt so much. We were far from fine without you.”

“I didn’t know.” You whisper, not knowing how much pain your dad had gone through. “I’m sor-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence. You have nothing to be sorry for. If anyone should apologize, it should be me for not stopping the Blip from happening.”

“That’s not your fault though. You may be an Avenger, but the world doesn’t rest on your shoulders.” You pause before saying. “If I’m not allowed to apologize, then neither are you.”

“You’re making demands now?”

“Mmmhmm. You perfected time travel to bring me back. And you brought my boyfriend back, willingly nonetheless. So I say there’s nothing to apologize for. No apologizing.”

“Ok, no apologizing.” Tony leans against your head. Tony decides to bring up a more positive subject. “Morgan loves that you tell her actual bedtime stories.”

“Actual bedtime stories? What have you been telling her?”

“Once upon a time there was a Morguna who went to bed, the end.”

“That’s the worst story I’ve ever heard. No wonder she likes my stories better.” You shrug. “They’re not that special. Just stories I would have made up when I was her age.”

“Vivid imagination?” You nod.

“Still have one. It’s why I love reading. Imagining far off places and new things to see. It’s amazing.” You lean into your dad’s shoulder as you explain.

“Ever thought about writing your own?”

“Story?”

“Book.”

“I’ve… contemplated it before. But never actually given it a try. What if I have nothing to say?”

“You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

“Wow, it’s cuddle time and I wasn’t invited?” Pepper stands barefoot in your doorway.

“There’s still room.” You pat the bed on the other side of you. Pepper smiles and comes to sit down next to you.

“What are we contemplating instead of sleeping?”

“Dad’s trying to convince me I should try to write a book.”

“You could write a book that is solely Morgan’s bedtime stories and I know you would have at least one reader.” Pepper agrees.

“That’s just made up… shit.” You shrug off your parents’ suggestions. “It’s not a real story.”

“It’s a real story to Morgan. The person who decides the story is worth it is the person who wants to read it. But if you want to do something completely different, that’s ok too. You have plenty of time to figure out what to do in life.” Pepper says. “But, it is getting late and you do have to get up early to drive into the city.”

“You were the ones that chose to move out of NYC proper. So really it’s your fault.” You joke.

“True, but either way, you need to get some sleep so you don’t fall asleep in class.” Tony kisses your cheek. Pepper stands up, but then leans over to give you one more hug and a kiss. “Get some sleep kiddo. Tomorrow is going to be fine.”

“Whatever you say Dad.” Tony pulls your quilt around you and tucks it in tight. “Love you.”

“Love you too sweetheart.”

“Love you kiddo.”

...A Stark Tag list: @persephonehemingway @iamaunicorn4704 @furiouspockettoad @daughter-of-stark @eternalharry @huntective-kyeo @riiis-stuff @sunnyoongles @cosmicqueenieb @sovereignparker @bbarnestan @teenwishes08 @iamthescarlettwitch @skyfallstilinski @cutie1365 @a-mnd @youarethereasonimsmiling @thefemalestorywriter @krazykendraisnotinsane @cathy8taffy @letssee2468 @babyreads @riyanna @theatregeek @bubblebunbun @curls-freckles-books

Permanent tag list: @wormonastringonastick

strike wont let me tag

#peter parker #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker fanfic #peter parker x reader #peter parker fan fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fan fiction #tony stark #tony stark daughter #tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark can't be dead if you just don't let yourself believe it #tony stark is a good dad #pepper potts #pepper potts is the worlds best mom #morgan stark #peter parker imagine #imanativeofswlondondahling #being a stark #becoming a stark

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legobiwan · 3 years ago

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Writing accountability Day #6

Getting this one in just under the wire. Fair warning, everything I'm posting here is very much in draft form. I'll clean it all up at some point once I get a full story and half a brain back. I'm soooorta remembering how to write, but not 100% back quite yet.

-----

It's his. It's that shabla osik damned lightsaber.

It's not. The dented silver cylinder in his palm sits awkward, its weight distributed as a series of random algorithms forced upon a chunk of raw material, no thought for artistry, for its wielder, for the greater universe around it. No, this is just another cog in a machine, notable only for its use, for its ease of production, for the series of circumstances that led it to be in the right place at the right time.

Blood drains downwards from point of impact, dark pools nestled in little mountains of greyish brain matter already browning like a cheap avocado, liquid seeping over crests of cerebellum and occipital lobe, trickling down-mountain to a parched, silvery plain of boring, familiar durasteel. "The Metal of Honor," the Mining Guild had called it in the holoads. (They had given him a medal, after Utapau, after the massacre on Dryon One, and now he holds another, a metal of his own making, silver bore no more special than guts of the Imperial sewer.)

The Bothan is quite dead.

And did I have your blessing for this? The thought is rough, scraping at the pallid remains of what he once might have called a conscience, but now knows is only programming, bits and numbers and genetic kriffing manipulation. And what use was that conscience, anyway? The Jedi killed just as many, only they hid behind flowery rhetoric and an army of warriors destined to do what they were told. (But then why Utapau, why take the shot, why did everything make sense until the attack on Gambra?)

The durasteel pipe in his hand is nothing like it, ugly and charred and inelegant in its use.

He has the intel, at least. Or some of it.

But damned if he can't turn over the item in his hand and feel something else, a more familiar hilt, an immense extension of trust wholly undeserved.

The cooling vents to an electrical grid groan to activity, the remains of a million chemical reactions a warm, stale breeze disturbing a confluence of abandoned quickfood wrappers, which skitter away to another rat-infested shadow.

He can't stay here.

Get rid of the weapon.

It's not his saber, it's nothing even close.

"By the way, I think you'll be needing this."

Cody chucks the pipe down the alleyway, a million maledictions strangled tight as tripwire in his sternum. He doesn't know why he denies himself the catharsis of yelling, of screaming like a madman. The clamor of durasteel against shoddy aluminum awnings would be enough to wake the mythosaur from its millenium-long slumber, and certainly should be ample enough racket to attract some bored security worker, who would then call the ISB who would then track Cody down as a traitor, as defective - and worst of all, he thinks, the pain a jagged spike through his skull, stabbing into his pulsating sinuses - as a Jedi sympathizer.

"Kriffing. Shabuir jagyc'kovid. JETTI!"

He screams himself raw, grasping for every damnation, culmination, execration he can pull from the bloody roots in his gut, sharp tangles shearing through his chest and sensitive throat tissue, only to come out in ugly, thorned brambles from his cracked lips.

His entire existence, from tube to Empire, is defined by his relationship with the Jedi. He isn’t a baby, he is a resource to be developed, a tool for war. He isn't a man, he is a soldier, an unquestioning asset. He isn't a soldier, he is an enforcer, sent to destroy the very beings he had once been programmed to protect. His training was formulated to support the Jedi. He learned of alien worlds, of language and culture and custom and humanity through the Jedi's war. And he is corrupted now, because of the Jedi.

His Mandalorian background is nothing but a fluke, a chance of fate. Because a Jedi (an ex-Jedi) felt it to be the most practical option to create an army, a lie perpetrated only to be maintained by a conglomerate of now-ghosts he had helped destroy. (An army of the dead, and he can see the corpses of his former comrades rising, led by a bloated spectre, stringy, grey tissue, gangrenous and foul falling from empty eye sockets, stomach bulging with undigested waters of death, once callused, careful hands now a deep violet, a single blaster wound scorched through the chest. Over and over Cody had viewed the holo-announcement. “Among the presumed dead include High Council Member and High General…)

He is nothing but a reflection of something unreal. A bit of genetic wizardry and brainwashing. (But the bond with his brothers, his vod - was that nothing more than simple bioengineering? Was his relationship with - Cody grinds his teeth - the Jedi merely a piece of programming?)

You know what happened on Utapau, a voice not dissimilar to his rises from his inflamed brain. Har'chaak his head hurt, the dim lights of the alleway an assault beacon to his pinpoint pupils as saliva starts to rain from some invisible point in his cheeks and his gums, his breaths shallow and labored.

He is not granted the temporary absolution of vomiting.

"Kriff," he whines, collapsing to his side, left arm splayed in front of his face, knees tucked close to his chest.

He died on him, and the bastard had the absolute gall to make it real this time. (Of course, it was real, it was his shot. And he was trained - programmed by the best - wasn’t he?)

"Ni cetar - " Cody coughs, rolling onto his back, each bark edging closer to a carved-out hiccup bordering on laughter, something hollow and deranged. The fit passes - his riotous stomach can't take much more - and he lets out a wet sigh, arms extending wide to either side, as if he's preparing to make a snow-star from the dirt and detritus of lower Coruscant. The thought is absurd, and Cody cackles wildly at the image. Why even swear in Mando'a? What claim did he have to the language, anyway?

The echoes of approaching soldiers are messy, bootsteps delayed and compounded by the acoustics of cavernous alleyways and tin siding. They're too disorganized to be ISB, too hurried to be anyone high-ranking in the Imperial army. Local authorities, then. They had been sure to undertrain them, keeping them just effective enough to maintain law and order without the risk of creating an insurgent group. He figures he has four minutes before he's discovered. Seven if they're new recruits.

He stays on the ground, eyes closed, chest expanding and constricting in careful rhythm. He does not think about where he learned this technique.

Five minutes later, Cody rises to his feet, unsteady.

Screw the Republic, the Empire, the GAR, the whole damned Jedi Order.

Two minutes later, he is safely ensconced in an abandoned cantina, tucked between two dusty shelves still housing the remains of some gutrock that likely once served as a special kind of currency in these parts. He decidedly does not look at the bottle written in Cromothdan sitting close to his left ear, gritting his teeth against the frigid tremors wracking his body.

Screw them all. But most importantly -

Fuck Obi-wan Kenobi.

#hello there #writing #cody #i am very proud of my metal/medal pun and think that it would have totally been used in propaganda/advertising in the gffa

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servetolive · 3 years ago

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More Cleno babies stuff

This is weird and arbitrary and there's ABO stuff in here that I didn't put in before. I'm just comfort writing at this point. <3

(if you don't know me on twitter, Reno is always a canid/fox and Cloud is always a Shiba inu. Also the first daughter is not included, as her existence is a spoiler for a fic.)

Unlike with their first two girls, this pregnancy had been difficult. Cloud remained ill throughout the entire eight months.

King announced his arrival with painful cramps at increasingly brief intervals. Cloud had been in the kitchen, clutching the counter as he screamed and collapsed. Reno arrived home from work seconds later to find Charisma pulling on Cloud's curled tail, screaming "mama," with a river of fluid leaking from him.

In the hospital, Cloud was pale and clammy. The medication did nothing to calm him. His eyes followed Reno's movement as he took in deep pulls of breath.

Reno, torn between concern and excitement as he pulled a mask over his mouth, took Cloud's hand in the medical den as they waited.

"What's wrong, baby?"

Cloud's throat caved as he swallowed. He was beginning to think that his fertility, combined with his altered genes, might become a death trap for he and any of his future children.

"I'm scared."

"Don't be," Reno said, dismissing any warranted notion of danger to his wife and offspring. He kissed Cloud's damp head. Behind him, his tail wagged so furiously that the nurse nearly tripped over it.

He lapped at the corners of his mouth and breathed across Cloud's wet skin, scenting him gently.

"I got you."

The boy came with about as much ruckus as any son of Reno would. He and his mother were joined in an agonizing scream as his crown of brown hair emerged.

"There he is!" Reno's voice rose above the encouraging words of the medical personnel. His tail and ears stood straight up. "There's my boy. Oh, god, Cloud!"

Cloud's last push was accompanied with a murderous look towards Reno, who was too busy watching his vagina to pay him any mind.

The boy plopped out onto the sheets, spat out fluid, and wailed.

Elated, Reno impatiently held his hands out for the pup, his eyes wide and shining. "Give 'im here, give 'im--"

He was ready to nearly tear the boy out of his mother.

"The umbilical cord, Mr. Strife," the doctor reminded him.

"Oh, shit."

A nurse passed him a blanket. Reno gleefully took the scissors and separated him from his mother. Only when he had the child in his arms, close to him, did he begin to calm down. He turned his back on the rest to get his prize: the first moments with the baby.

"King," Reno whispered into the boy's red ears. "You hear me? I'm your daddy. You're gonna rule the fucking world one day..."

Meanwhile, the nurses tended to the exhausted Cloud, patting him dry and sewing him up. When a nurse whispered "good boy, mom" and squeezed his shoulder, Reno seemed to remember who the true hero was, and turned back to him with the baby.

"And this," he said, placing their first male into the cradle of Cloud'[s arms. "This is your beautiful mama. The strongest man in the whole world..."

Cloud looked down at his wrinkly son and fought back tears. He had no idea where they came from, or why they existed. Furthermore, he had nothing to say.

"Good to see you," he managed.

King couldn't see him. He rooted for Cloud's breast, and once he found it, settled down to drink.

Later on in the evening, Cloud was glad to give Reno his son back so he can rest. Through his hazy, post-birth vision, he watched Reno pull himself out of his shirt, take the baby out of the bassinet and sit with him on the chair across from him. There, Reno held King on his knee and dragged his tongue across the baby's skin and hair, collecting all the remnants of blood and tissue, and spit them out into the biohazard bin next to him.

While he watched his husband bathe his son, Cloud's fear--and annoyance--subsided. For someone who made his living doing Bad Things, Reno's child-like enthusiasm for the birth of a child--his child--was the most endearing thing Cloud had ever seen.

Cloud rested at home with the baby on his chest after the first night, while Reno took Charisma out. They returned with the girl on Reno's hip, a bouquet of flowers in her hand to present to her mother for "giving her a baby brother to pick on," Reno said.

Reno spoiled Charisma, by okaying anything lavish that Cloud insisted on buying for her; sometimes even overriding his wife's frugal suggestions with something twice as expensive. A regular crib that she would only use for a number of months became a pink princess palace with a matching mosquito net, a mechanical rocker, and a mobile with a model of the Planets. Clothes that she would outgrow in weeks were purchased from Midgar's boutiques, even though she never ended up wearing most of them, because she was born in the summer.

But there was nothing quite like how he doted on his son. Nothing was handed down; King got matching tracksuits with his father, a brand new bed with black and gold trim, basketballs, soccer balls, tennis balls, and an organic chew toy for his milk teeth that wouldn't come in for weeks. He handpicked all of his clothing and even went so far as to start cooking Cloud's meals to control the flow of nutrients to his son.

"Want you big and strong... again," he added as an afterthought while he stirred a meat stew, as if Cloud couldn't tell that he was talking to his son--not him.

"I don't like that much meat," Cloud said, holding King in his lap. He adjusted his wedding ring on his finger so that it wouldn't catch on the pup's skin. The diamond was massive when Reno had first bought it for him, but now he had a sapphire and a black diamond added, to represent the two treasures Cloud had given him.

"You gotta have meat, dollface," Reno insisted. "You have an iron deficiency."

He had more than that, but Cloud hated to be reminded.

Next to him, Charisma sat in her brand new high chair, her hair done in blonde pigtails, pounding the table with her airplane-shaped knife and fork. Her canines had come in fully now, and nursing had become almost impossible. Reno placed a bib around her neck that said "#1 Daddy's Girl" (which Cloud had rolled his eyes at.)

"Hoer auf," Cloud said to her with a warning look. He gently placed her hands with the utensils down on her little table. "Stop it."

"Dada, eat!" She said, ignoring her mother. "I hungry."

"I'm coming, mama," Reno said, scooping some of the stew into a bowl. He joined the family at the table, and began with scooping some of it into the small bowl for the baby.

"She's not old enough," Cloud sighed as Reno fanned the chunks of meat. "I told you--"

"Mmmm," Reno said, making a huge deal out of smelling the stew. Charisma copied him.

"Mmmm," she said, once her nose came up from the bowl. Reno laughed and stuck a chunk of meat in the side of his mouth to chew, then placed the mush onto Rizzy's table. She lapped it up with her tongue.

"Use your fork," Cloud scolded.

#cleno #renokura #ff7 #ff7r #final fantasy #cloud strife #reno of the turks #my aunt died today and i this is bringing me great comfort

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dysphorie · 4 years ago

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The Slipknot Incident

Anon, I’m an idiot and tunglr is a functioning website, so I lost your ask while trying to edit shit SO it was just easier to write this up. I doubt many people want to know, and I don’t blame them. It probably wouldn’t seem like a big deal to someone it didn’t happen to! And maybe I should just still be keeping it to myself, because who cares! Amirite? But no. I’ve decided that I want to write it all out for ME. So. Very long post ahead and I’m sorry about that but you need to know EVERYTHING for it all to really make sense.

So, flashback to 1999. I'm 15-turning 16. I have this boyfriend, kirk. He's obsessed with kurt cobain and everything grunge, and uses this to belittle the fact I like all kinds of music, particularly heavy stuff.

He was also an abusive cunt. Verbally and physically. Very controlling, HATED it if i went in the mosh pit (which I L O V E D, and glasgow moshpits are legendarily rough) because "that's not what girls do. And i know this is wrong, and he's wrong, and I shouldn’t put up with it, but I do! Cos I'm 16 and "in love"!

I also have two big sisters, one of which is...a handful. Very dramatic, very argumentative, and very good at getting people to take her side (steeeeeeff you've got to let her take xyz of your things, she has a baaaaaaaaybeee!) We get on amazingly NOW, but then not so much.

So, fastforward to Feb 2000. Slipknot are playing at glasgow barrowlands, my favourite venue ever, and slipknot were already my favourite band (s/t had hit, the world went wild). And I managed to get two tickets!! So kirk tells me in no uncertain terms that I've to give one to his little sister, nicky, who is a year younger than me. I'm like um ok sure, cos i hadn't planned who i was going with yet, my mum just got two tickets just in case. So I say i will, and that's that.

But oh no it isn’t. because my aforementioned sisters birthday is at the end of Feb! And my family are like, you’re giving her the other ticket, right? And no amount of no, I already promised it to Nicky would suffice. Because SHE’S YOUR SISTER AND SHE NEVER GETS TO DO ANYTHING COS SHE HAS A BAAAAAYBEEEEEEE. She didn’t, and doesn’t like Slipknot or either of the support act (Kittie and, thankfully, my good pals One Minute Silence who I’ve seen more times than I’ve had hot dinners)

So I explain this to Kirk, sitting in his room one day. He. Goes. B a l l i s t i c. I’ll miss the details but he explains that I WILL find a way for Nicky to go to this sold-out gig and, actually, him too while I’m at it. Because I have a reputation for being able to blag onto guest lists, it shouldn’t be too hard, right? So ofc I’m scared and promise I will.

The day or so before the gig, Slipknot did a signing in a Virgin Megastore that had recently opened. My friends and I were so excited, we were there from crazy early in the morning to get stuff signed (there ARE photos somewhere in the ether, who knows where, not me). But I’m also terrified Kirk’s gonna find out I’m there, cos he didn’t want me to go. That’s it. We had no idea what the band looked like yet so it wasn’t that kind of jealousy. But anyway...

The signing was great. Got my shit signed, Sid and Chris were weird assholes cos that was their schtick, Jim and Mick gave me the best cuddles, CRAIG SPOKE TO ME cos I have him a wee pin badge and he mumbled “No one ever gives me anything...”, and I gave Joey and Corey nailpolish. Joey looked terrified, Corey was incredibly thankful, and pulled me in for a hug. That he wouldn’t let me out of (not in a forceful way, just in a heeeeey lady let me hug on you for a while) and I’m like uh *panics in 16 not that he knows that cos tattoos and piercings and huuuuuuge boobs* and he says some very suggestive things and my friend said aye she’s into all that freaky shit too and I’m dying inside. Offers were made, I said uh lol maybe bye, and go home on cloud nine.

Until my friend who spoke to Corey tells Kirk what happened. Thankfully I wasn’t gonna see him until nearly door opening gig time, but the phonecall we had was...unpleasant.

So it’s the day of the gig, I go to Glasgow stupid early to meet the OMS boys and beg and plead for them to put Kirk and his sister on the guest list. And they do! Because I cry and tell them everything and I have to make their singer promise not to wait outside and beat him up. I could tell you what I was wearing: a deftones baseball ringer I lost my birginity in, baggies, and a powerpuff girls hoodie. My hair was blonde and green. I was wearing my favourite converse that Kirk hates because they were All-Stars, not One-Stars. And Corey wore All-Stars, was I wearing them because HE wore them?

My sister turns up before the doors open. I’m at the front of the queue cos I want to be down the front. My sister and Kirk are both like lol no, because YOU need to look after your sister (who is 24 to my 16 at this point) because she’s tiny and I go to more gigs, and Kirk doesn’t want me anywhere near the front or the pit. Doesn’t want me to corrupt his sister. But she begs me to take her in the pit for “Spit It Out” and I promise I will.

OMS are incredible, Kittie were ok, Talena tried to crowdsurf and got dropped. I turned around to talk to my sister about it and she was...gone. I checked the bar. Nothing. The toilets. Nada. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck we’re supposed to get the last train home together, I HAVE to find her. Slipknot come on. We’re standing up the back near the bar, and he has a deathgrip on my wrist so I don’t run off. Then I think I see my sister!! I beg to go to her, he lets me go, but I can’t find her, then I can’t find my way back to him. By the time I do, he accuses me of finding and kissing my friend Mark (my best friend who I’d actually recently fallen out with and hadn’t spoken to in months and only knew he was at the gig cos I saw him at the signing. I didn’t see him at the gig). I don’t find my sister.

Kirk decides it’s time to go, so literally drags us away. As we’re nearly out the crowd, “Spit It Out” starts, and I rip my arm away from him and grab his sister, tell him FUCK YOU, WE’RE DOING THIS. So we do. For about...a minute or so. Then something grips my right wrist so hard and so tight I thought it was going to crumble. I literally trip over my feet as he drags me back out the crowd and out of the ballroom.

Now the Barrowlands has a set of couches just outside the main hall, it’s a popular meeting place, so I pulled away again there and said NO, I have to wait for my sister, I’ll see him later, he can go home. Furiously he stomps away. So I sit and wait. And wait. And wait. The entire venue empties and my sister is nowhere to be seen. Turns out she left just as Slipknot started and went home, and yes I got in trouble for that despite the fact she fucked off. The venue staff need me to leave. I’ve missed the last train, I don’t know what I’m going to do. So I walk outside thinking maybe I’ll see a friend I can stay with.

And there’s Kirk and Nicky. Standing by their dad’s car. Hey come stay with me, I didn’t want to go til I knew you were ok, he says, sweet as pie. We get home, everyone goes to bed.

Where he put self-titled on repeat, very low on his stereo, and proceeded to do some of the most horrific things that have every happened to me in my life, over the course of basically the entire night. I’m going to stay non-specific, but if you can imagine it, it probably happened. Including yes, what you’re definitely thinking of now. And he told me it was all my fault. Because I was weak and couldn’t say no. Because I was a slut who’d catch something by fucking a guy in a band just to say I’d fucked someone in a band. That he’d make sure Corey wouldn’t want me if I ever met him again. That it was my fault for talking to another, older man. I was getting what I deserved. He plugged his big fancy headphones into the stereo and made me listen to my favourite tracks over and over and over during some of it, and I didn’t dare make a noise because if his parents found out, if anyone found out, he’d kill me. And I believed him, because he kept a bolt gun in his bedside drawer, liked to pretend he was going to shoot himself with it it upset me and make me beg him not to. He said he’d make me do it to myself maybe, to keep his hands clean. I believed every word.

I went home the next day packed with toilet tissue that I had to clench to keep in place because my underwear had been ripped, not that it mattered because it was covered in blood anyway. When I got home I got a bollocking and grounded because of the shit with my sister. She remembers none of it, but she’ll still insist it was probably my fault she left.

When I saw that Slipknot weren’t playing “Spit It Out” in January I literally cried tears of relief. It took me a long time to be able to listen to Slipknot again, and when I did I was made fun of for liking them, which made healing harder because I was just trying to reclaim this thing that had given me such comfort in the past. So I’ve always kinda kept my love of them to myself.

But when I hear “Spit It Out”, I feel his fingers close around my wrist. I feel the bones click and roll. And normally I can turn the song off if I’m having a bad day, but I couldn’t exactly do that live. That’s a huge part of why I feel me like, reclaiming Slipknot this past year was just...meant to happen. It was nearly 20 years to the day, I bought the tickets with MY money and was going MYSELF for MYSELF, they weren’t playing a song that I might have a fucking breakdown to. I met amazing people. I did EVERYTHING on MY terms.

Honestly I’ll never be healed of it. Duh. But I can talk about it now because I’ve had closure. I took back what was taken from me. Can’t make up for the missed gigs taken from me and the like but meh, that’s nothing compared to what it’s given me.

#long post #trigger warning: just fucking everything #the slipknot trauma story #don't lose

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serendipitous-magic · 3 years ago

Note

what's your writing process like? do you plot things out beforehand? or do you sort of write it as it comes? a mix of both?

Depends on what I'm writing!

In general I'm a planner. I can't write from a blank page, unless I'm just like... really really captivated by whatever I'm writing, which was what happened with the first chapters of both The Art of Living Your (Second) Life and The Partnership Plan.

a) In general, if it's a fanfiction I'm writing, I tend to build the plan as I write - meaning, oftentimes I'll be inspired to write the first chapter, and I'll write that with little idea what the rest of it will be. Or, even if I have an idea what the rest will be, it's more of a vague skeleton than a full plan. And then, as I continue to write, I think more about where the story is going and I continuously add to and refine my plan kind of alongside the actual writing. In this way, the plan grows at the same time that the actual chapters do - but because the chapters take significantly longer to write than planning does, the plan outpaces the "real" writing and I usually know the basic story arc from fairly early on. Then it's just a matter of fleshing it out, adding detail, writing down scenes I thought of, etc. And then when I get to that point in the actual writing, I have a framework in place already.

-_-_-

b) Sometimes for fanfic, I have a more complete plan upfront - although I use "complete" here to mean "from beginning to end," not "completely detailed." So, more like a full skeleton than a full body, if that makes sense. I did that with Roll for Strength. What usually happens is that my plan will look something like...

...

Chapter One

-Will suspects Mike has a girlfriend and is kind of put out about it but thinks he's over Mike so he tells himself he doesn't care

-Will walks in on Mike and his BF (name??) and has a crisis (they don't see Will, so Will knows about Mike but Mike doesn't know that Will knows)

-Will might get off to that later, guiltily? (Or move to chapter two)

Chapter Two

-Do Mike's POV to tell about how he ended up dating a guy, how he got very disillusioned with the world after canon events and got into a "fuck it, the rules don't matter and I hate them anyway" mentality, which eventually snowballed into him kind of realizing and accepting his sexuality earlier than usual fanon

-Also introduce BF (name??) in a scene

-Set time and place - season should set the mood if not already mentioned in Ch 1

-Maybe also do BF's POV briefly to introduce him?? Or leave that for later

...

Etc.

And that's the original skeleton plan. And then it gets expanded upon more and more and more as I continue to think about the story, sometimes even with full pages' worth of unbroken text blocks as I get inspired and start basically thought-vomiting an entire scene. So by the time I get around to actually writing it, it might look like the above, or it might be a few steps shy of an actual draft already, depending on how much I've thought about / worked on that part.

See #5 in this writing advice post to see what I mean about a "thought vomit" draft.

-_-_-

c) Here's the thing - the above was for fanfic, or for short stories, or stories that I'm just kind of having fun with.

For original stuff, I adhere much more tightly to the "rules," because the guidelines for original work (that you might try to publish in the actual publishing market) are much stricter - and for good reason! Fanfiction is a sandbox, and we're all invested in the characters and worlds and settings already. We're all reading and writing fanfic because we already love these characters and this world, and we just want to play in it.

It's a different situation with original novels that you hope to publish. The plot, pacing, tension, and story beats have to be much, much tighter and more polished. Because people reading original work have no prior reason to be invested in it or care what happens - that's work that you have to do. For fanfic, that work was done for you by the original thing. Not to mention, the publishing world is so absolutely choked with competition, and the emphasis lies so heavily on sales, that if your book isn't fucking top-tier compelling, no publisher or agent will take a second look at it. Which is kind of unfortunate, because there's value in slower, more relaxed, more reflective storytelling, too - it's just not what capitalism has decided to value, which is sad.

But anyway.

When writing an original thing, I basically need a full plan - beginning to end, covering all plot points. Not necessarily all the details, just all the plot points - I need a skeleton and I need connective tissue. The rest comes later. But to start, I need to know what happens, why, and how the characters get from event to event. I need to know the physical story events, the emotional beats, and how those things logically flow throughout the story.

Some people can write without this and it still turns into a compelling story, tight narrative, etc. I envy these people. I have all respect for these people. I cannot do this. If I write original work with no plan, and especially without at least like 50-75% of a plan, I end up with something slow, meandering, and kind of limp. No bueno.

So, I usually use a beat sheet.

What's a beat sheet?

It's a 15-beat plotting structure used by screenwriters. And, yeah, technically it's for movies / screenplays. But storytelling is storytelling. And it's highly flexible. (And my favorite professor ever taught it to me in college so you can pry it out of my cold dead hands.)

Google it. It's what I use to make sure my (original work) plots are tight, have momentum, have a satisfying character arc, etc.

Okay, okay, I'll paste the basic structure below just so you can see wtf I'm talking about:

-_-_-

-Act I:

1) The First Frame

-What is the first thing we see? This should be a snapshot of the main character’s problem, before the story begins

-Ex: the Star Destroyer in A New Hope

2) The World Around Us

-What is the main character’s world like at the beginning of the story?

-What is missing in the main character’s life?

3) State the Theme (sneak this into The World Around Us)

-What is the story secretly about? This should happen during The World Around Us

4) Inciting Incident (smol tentpole)

-What happens to put the hero on the road? This is where the hero’s life changes forever.

5) The Hero Questions

-1st introspective moment

-Can the hero really do this? Should the hero chicken out?

-Oftentimes the hero fails at something

-Ex: Luke gets his ass beat by the raiders

-Act II:

6) Crossing the Threshold / The Emotional Hurdle (big tentpole)

-The main character makes a choice

-Beginning of Act II

7) The B Story / The Love Story

-Introduced here

-Often but not always a love story

8) Promise of the Premise

-Fun and games in the world you promised

-Horror movie? Creeps here!

-Sci fi? Space battles!

-Animation? Shenanigans!

9) Midpoint (big tentpole)

-The hero finds out that what they want is not what they need

-Luke rescues the princess - turns out that’s not really what the story was about

10) Bad Guys Close In / Throwing Rocks

-Events conspire to tear the hero’s goal to shreds

-Wesley is mostly dead, Inego is drunk, Fezzick is part of the brute squad

-This is the other side of the fun and games coin where things are no longer fun

11) All is Lost

-Something super bad happens, and that goal is impossible

-If someone important is gonna die, it’s probably now

12) The Pit of Despair (smol tentpole)

-The hero mourns the death (if someone died) and wallows in his/her lowest point

13) Inspiration

-A fresh idea

-Act III:

14) Come and Get Some / Final Confrontation (big tentpole)

-The final confrontation - the final showdown

-A and B stories wrapping up at the same time

-The theme makes sense and the battle is engaged

15) Final Frame

-Opposite of the first frame

-The hero is changed

-_-_-

It's what I use. But hey, you don't have to. What works for me might not work for you.

I'll finish this off by pasting in a section of actual real-ass planning I have open in a document for one of my novels at this moment (it's giving me the evil eye, I swear) so you can see what I kind of mean by "thought vomiting." Also note that in my actual document, the bullet points are indented incrementally to be kind of "nestled" underneath the relevant points, if that makes sense, and that it's a whole eye-watering mess of different colors. But for Tumblr, it's this:

-_-_-

-You have to be rescued by the rest of the team, because you fell down that hole - and you are, eventually, after screaming yourself hoarse some more (plus it’s been like an hour or more now, so they have since noticed that you were missing)

-I could gloss over this, like end the chapter when you run away, and open the next one with “It takes another half hour of screaming your throat nearly bloody before the team finds you,” or something

-They berate you for chasing after ghosts - you say you didn’t find anyone down there, because you know for damn sure nobody’s gonna believe what you think you saw, and you don’t even think you believe it

-This leads to a trip to the local doctor (a clinic, probs, akin to UrgentCare), which you’re not happy with because that’s more people taking notice of you

-However, you’re also going through the change in mindset here - see below

-Note: I as the writer don’t have to worry about the paperwork or whatever that you’d normally have to fill out, getting hurt on the job, because you weren’t officially hired - however, it would be a good “humanity is okay” moment if the guy who hired you came in and helped you with the medical expenses because he felt bad - he’d also probably be a little nervous about you suing or something, but you assure him that you have zero interest in that

-I could include a funny line where the guy says he’ll pay for your doctor bill and you try to say no (being indebted to someone is bad news for you) but he insists, because he says he feels responsible, and you just kind of stare at him and then blurt, “Do you need me to kill anyone for you?” (Something you probably regret as soon as you say it, not because you expect him to accept but because you abruptly remember what happened two days ago.) (Would it be too much to also add like “You want me to murder anyone for you? You want a blowjob? I will do anything,” and he gets flustered and bats it off like “Nah, nah, nah, chill out. You’re crazy, man.” And insists that you don’t need to pay him back)

-Here’s a decision I have to make - does the guy pay for your doctor bills as well as paying for your work today (leaving you enough money to potentially split town, but you decide not to), or do you have to pay the $2,500+ in doctor bills with no insurance for the injury, which raises the stakes by depleting all your money?

-I think I like Option A best, because it gives Sam more agency as a character if they decide to stay despite having the option to leave, versus them just being stuck completely - plus I don’t know how else I’d be able to explain away you having money for the hotel

-The guy who hired you pays you for the work day here - and maybe, just maybe, that gives you barely enough to buy that used car (although, why would it? It couldn’t have been more than like $200 for 8 hours of work, maybe $300 if he was really really desperate - if it was a really cheap used car, that might give you barely enough to buy the car but literally nothing left over)

-Point being, maybe you have enough money to bolt now, if you chose to - and you have to make the choice not to

-The car you found might be a $1,500 Honda Civic (or Jeep or whatever) with a dead battery, and the guy selling it says it should run fine with a new battery, which you Google (apparently it would be somewhere in the range of $100-$200) - maybe you think of how nice the mechanic was for you and wonder if you could cut a bit of a deal with him, if you get this car - and if the guy pays for your trip to the doctor and pays you for the temp work, this could just tip you into the margin of being able to afford the car, if you haggle with the seller

-_-_-

Or another example, with more actual sentences:

-_-_-

-As you approach the trailer you start to register a smell that turns your stomach - something like a porta potty and something like the sharp tang of rusting metal. It makes you pause - maybe there really is someone in there, using the place to live whether there’s a sewage hookup or not - it wouldn’t be the weirdest thing you’ve heard of. But after standing for a bit, silent and listening, and then hiding behind a large tree to chuck a rock at the vehicle to no response, you continue forward. You’ll just have to be cautious. Your spirits lift when you see the door. It’s completely grown over. (Leafy vines lace over it, tangling in the handle, yellowing and unbroken. If someone is living in there, they’ve been using the window to come and go, and that doesn’t seem all too likely. Bolstered by a new swell of confidence, and picturing the unlikely riches you might find stashed away in a cabinet or a glove compartment, you cross the last few feet towards the shape.

-You find the body and recognize it as one of the two obnoxious vlogging dudes from the motel

-I’m kind of imagining the moment of discovery like the wardrobe moment in Narnia where, during your nice forest trek, there’s been some pleasant acoustic music playing (like All the Pretty Girls by Kaleo maybe) and then it just stops abruptly in the middle of a phrase, maybe echoing slightly, when you see the body, and all at once everything is sickly silent.

-Oh dude, maybe you continue thinking it’s a duffel bag (possibly feeling pretty upbeat, though cautious until you’re literally about to step over it, and then you happen to glance down and get a sickening, chest-slamming shock when an empty human face is staring up at you

-Note: there should be mushrooms growing in, on and around the RV, because mushrooms are Creepy

-You go to investigate the RV

-Maybe you recognized the body as one of the vloggers and you’re trying to see if his friend is around - or maybe, in a kind of sick daze, you short circuit and find yourself doing the only thing you can think to do: continuing along your trajectory, stumbling towards the RV and tearing the rusted-out door free from the lattice of brittle vines that held it in place (this is what alerts The Dude that someone has been here), like if you just get to your original goal that’ll fix everything - somehow, if you just keep moving forward on the track you set out on, that thing won’t be real anymore - at the very least you have to get inside, to put a door between you and the body, like you’re pulling the blankets over your head to shield yourself from the boogeyman. Just as long as you’re not out there with, with...

-_-_-

Anywho, I'll stop.

I apologize again for... (scrolls up for a million miles) all of that, but you asked me about my passion and now you pay the price, lmao.

#asks #anon #writing #writing advice #i guess?#my writing #thought vomit draft #also you get a sneak peek at The Vanishing Day I guess lmao

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xlady-saya · 4 years ago

Text

an unconventional crossing [fic]

Relationships: andrew and aaron, andreil, kateaaron

Summary: Aaron likes to believe he and Andrew have a lot more practice navigating their conversations now. And he’s right, mostly. But sometimes, challenges arise at the strangest times, and especially when their significant others are concerned.

In which Andrew and Aaron run into each other at the grocery store, and choose not to part ways.

Tags: twin bonding, lots of references to how they’re whipped af, discussions of past abuse/addiction

Read on ao3!

Aaron is only a little bit ashamed that his first instinct is to run far away when he turns the corner and sees his brother standing there.

At first, he thinks he might be dreaming. It's past nine on a school night, and the brightness of the store burns his already tired eyes. The switch from the darkness outside to the stark white tile and fluorescent lights makes Aaron squint. His brother is more like a grainy, black smudge in front of him, and Aaron lingers on the double knots of Andrew's combat boots and the shiny item in his hand. Soup. A can of soup. That's also what Aaron needs.

For Katelyn.

And like that, Aaron remembers why he's here. In fact, he's pretty sure there's dried snot on his sleeve where Katelyn mistook him for a tissue. It's disgusting, but given the bookstore fiasco of last year—which Aaron has repressed and will take to the grave—it's not the grossest thing they've witnessed from one another.

In sickness and in health and all that...he guesses it still applies to boyfriend and girlfriend, too.

It's why he's here now, prepared to stock up their mediocre medical supplies. It does not explain why Andrew is here. He looks around a few times, then looks back, and expects to be alone in the aisle. But Andrew is still there. Holding soup.

The grocery store is practically empty apart from a few people picking up alcohol or extra junk food for studying binges, which only adds to the dream-like quality of it all. This is...not where he's used to seeing Andrew—this is not how he's used to seeing Andrew. Which is nonsensical, because everyone needs groceries.

He kinda just figured Andrew survived off chocolate.

He clamps down on the urge to leave; it's an old, pathetic need, and one he no longer wants to encourage. He freezes in place instead, and reflects. Classic, he thinks, rolling his eyes. Aaron hates how much he listens to Bee now, but with all the leaps and bounds he and Andrew have made, random things can still be hard to navigate.

Grocery store trips, he guesses, are included in that.

The habit of bolting whenever his brother is in the same room as him is not one he likes, but it's a knee jerk reaction he hasn't completely gotten rid of. A ghost, latched onto his back. But that's okay, because he's sure it's the same for Andrew too. The need to keep Aaron at a distance, when they've been doing the exact opposite.

He spends a lot of time with Andrew now, more than he'd probably admit if asked. They study together, silently—that hasn’t changed. But even now there's an occasional greeting or a mutual scoff when someone in the library is being annoying. Andrew will help Aaron review his exam flashcards, or Aaron will form a post with his hands so Andrew can flick paper goals. They play videogames with Neil and Katelyn, they have lunch together… Their sessions no longer feel like a chore.

Standing in this soup aisle, Aaron realizes he couldn't have asked for more, would've never asked for even a fraction of it a few years ago. Now he can't imagine his life without Andrew slotting into it somewhere, whether it be on miniature golf double dates or Nicky's failed family baking nights.

It's startling, but not unwelcome.

Still, it's odd to see his brother looking so...normal. Silly.

Aaron is aware now that Andrew is a regular person with fears and wants, just with unorthodox methods, different roots...but he can't help but always think of the cool, blank stare. He thinks of Andrew leaning against a wall, smoking, not giving anyone the time of day. Including Aaron.

Especially Aaron.

It takes him a second to remember the nerd who sulked after getting beaten in Mario Kart, or the one who apparently threw up after Disneyland from one too many churros.

(Neil told them that story).

He certainly doesn't think of the man who walked all the way back to the dorm because Neil sent him a crying emoji and a 'I cut my finger' text.

But that's the real Andrew, too. There’s always more underneath all the closed off, reserved portions laced with barbed wire. Andrew has finally allowed Aaron to see that.

This Andrew is, once again, a far cry from cool and collected. This Andrew looks tired, not as put together. He's wearing wrinkled jeans that clearly need a wash, Neil's hoodie (stained), and seems .2 seconds away from throwing the store's entire inventory into a dumpster fire.

The spell is only slightly broken, and Aaron catches himself smirking.

His brother glares at the can of soup like it offends him, reading the label before putting it back on the shelf and grabbing a different brand to see if it's anywhere closer to his standards. Whatever the hell those might be.

Unfortunately, dating Neil has made his brother even more perceptive than before. Probably because Neil can smell trouble from miles away, and then he goes and seeks out said trouble to jab at it with a metaphorical stick. The stick is just an endless stream of cuss words and insults.

Needless to say, Aaron isn't able to enjoy this comical sight for long.

Andrew's gaze darts over to where Aaron is standing at the end of the aisle, and Aaron can see the exact same reaction run through him. The tension seizes his brother like a snare, and there's that all too familiar step forward, like Andrew is ready to turn around and disappear.

But then he doesn't. Andrew remembers what Aaron does, and then it's gone.

What they didn't account for was the awkwardness. Again, they aren't trained for grocery store encounters.

Andrew doesn't exactly nod at Aaron, but he inclines his head just so and turns back to the soup, staring into some void Aaron can't see. He's not sure if it's an invitation, but it's as good as he's going to get.

Aaron's sneakers squeak on the tile and he stumbles, but ultimately ends up at the edge of his brother's bubble, staring at the soup right along with him.

Progress.

Aaron sighs and grabs Katelyn's preferred brand. It's the chicken soup with the extra big chunks of chicken and the flatter noodles. Katelyn likes them because they're 'chewier,' and Aaron just thinks it's weird. But what she wants, she gets, because how is he going to deny his sniffling girlfriend as she whines miserably in bed?

Come to think of it, they're probably here for the same reason. With how much Neil and Katelyn see each other outside of games and general Fox gatherings, it would be no surprise if they both came down with the same cold.

Which means they probably need the same things. Soup, cold medicine, tissues.

Aaron freezes as he glances at the soup, feeling his brother's imposing presence beside him. For someone so obsessed with not being noticed or talked to, Andrew doesn't do a good job of hiding. He's like a cliff or a mountain, steady and bulky. A road block.

Aaron should leave. He has what he needs, so he can move on. He doesn't have to wait for Andrew; they don't have to shop together.

But then why does it feel so weird to weakly wave goodbye?

Aaron raises his hand only to stop mid-motion, thwarted by his own thoughts. Andrew tracks the movement. God, this is even more awkward now. They aren't usually like this anymore.

Maybe it's because they've realized the same thing.

Here they are, both making sweetheart runs in the middle of the night. It should be mortifying, but part of it feels strangely natural.

Probably because there's always a comfort in knowing they're the same in this way.

They both have their suffering partners waiting for them, but despite that, Aaron doesn't know how to broach the subject.

Bee's words from some faraway session echo in his head: "It might help the both of you to try talking about your partners with one another under more casual circumstances."

Aaron nearly scoffs, just like he did then.

Yeah, sure. It's the one area they're not great at, and it’s easier said than done.

It's not that he hates Neil anymore, and he has his suspicions that Andrew's opinion of Katelyn is at least a calm respect, though he's not sure when or how it happened. They spend time together as a group, and, in some cases, separately.

Aaron will tutor Neil or help him through difficult game levels, or Katelyn will be the one to help Andrew with the snack runs when they go to the movies. It's...fine.

No, it's great.

Aaron just still has a hard time acknowledging it.

But this? This they don't do. They don't talk about Neil and Katelyn together unless it's for therapeutic purposes during their sessions, and even then it's caked in wariness.

Aaron wonders if they're afraid of ruining the progress they've made by unintentionally starting a fight, but he's never known Andrew to be that caring of those things.

Perhaps it's simply too vulnerable, too exposed, to show how much they care. Even when it's so obvious.

Aaron notices Andrew finally settles on one of the more premium soup brands, and yeah, alright. Painfully obvious.

Aaron has always pushed that piece of Bee's advice away, procrastinating, because surely it can't be that important. But it is.

Ugh. It probably is.

So this time, rather than avoiding it, Aaron figures he might as well show Andrew up by taking the first stride. Talking about Katelyn is easy. She's everything to him; he could wax poetic all day about her. He knows her class schedule, her favorite subjects, her dreams.

With that in mind, Aaron confidently spins the can around at the same time he opens his mouth in Andrew's direction, and smoothly says, "You know, Katelyn likes soup."

And what a stride he takes.

Fuck me.

“Uh. When she’s sick, I mean. And other times but—that’s why I’m here. Sick soup.” The can falls from his hands and he barely catches it in time. He doesn't think he could add that to his mortification without giving up and running out.

It wasn't a lie. She does like soup, even if it's the really disgusting kind, but it's not a fact that evokes any groundbreaking emotions. It certainly doesn't bridge the gap.

Andrew turns to squint at him in that way—the precursor to a full on dismissal. Aaron's not sure why he's even still here, but maybe now his respect for Aaron now extends to telling him off with words. Aaron braces for it.

He watches the exact moment Andrew opens his mouth to tell Aaron he doesn't care, but it never comes. It's rare to see Andrew hesitate; someone so methodical and cautious doesn't tend to question his thoughts when he's sure of them.

But Andrew stops, mouth hanging open for a beat too long before snapping shut.

And Aaron doesn't know what it is, doesn't feel like blaming it on the twin telepathy theory...

He just knows Andrew remembers, same as him. Probably better than him.

Andrew can hear Bee's advice too, far away and obnoxious, ringing in his head.

His brother turns back to the soup can, smoothly over the ridges under the bright blue label. Hm. No, can't be. His brother isn't that sappy.

A few moments pass where Aaron can't move, kept in place by some invisible orbit, waiting for...something. Just that alone makes it all so surreal; he never used to expect anything from Andrew.

Yet, Andrew keeps surprising him with how much more he's willing to do now. For Aaron. For both of them. His brother sighs eventually, staring at the shelf in front of him, and begrudgingly replies, "Neil won't even admit he's sick. He didn't want me to come."

It's stilted, clearly forced out, but Andrew did it. He returned the gesture. And if there's one thing Aaron knows about his brother, it's that it's the closest thing he's going to get to a chance. Excited for some inane reason, Aaron almost doesn't process the words. But oh, he gets it. Neil is so fucking ridiculous, Aaron can't stand him. It makes sense his 'I'm fine' routine would stretch to this, too. Aaron almost wants to see the state of him, fever high and unable to move without his sweat sticking to the blankets.

His face sours, and the instinctive insult creeps to the edges of his mouth. Andrew watches, waits for it, and Aaron nearly bites his tongue to stop himself. Being hostile to Neil is more playful nowadays, but it's still a reflex. If he does that here...part of him just knows whatever is happening will effectively be cut short.

He clears his throat, rocking on the balls of his feet and willing his glare to go away.

"That...sounds like him," Aaron forces out. It's the best he can do, but it probably still sounds judgmental.

God.

Why are they so bad at this?

"He's an idiot," Andrew replies with a nod, so softly it almost doesn't sound like him. Aaron almost scoffs. Here he is trying to be considerate, but Andrew scolds his own boyfriend anyways. Aaron should've known better than to bother.

He slides his gaze over to his brother again, and that train of thought effectively stops. There's a tightness in Andrew's jaw, and an antsy quality to his stance. Aaron replays the words, and realizes Andrew's voice is different from the usual monotone, the uncaring inflection. It would be neutral still, to most people, but Aaron can sense that it's laced with something strong, self-directed. His brother's hands tighten around the can with a vice grip, and Aaron should really be better at detecting Andrew's concern by now.

Suddenly, he gets it. "He didn't want me to come."

It must be grating for someone like Andrew, who despite the vibe he tries to give off, does nothing but look after his own. It's the worst with Neil, because his motivation is borne from an intense emotion Aaron can't even associate with their relationship. It's too much, too theirs. He feels uncomfortable trying to define it when he's never heard Andrew actually say the three words.

Still, it's all consuming. It's real.

Nauseatingly so.

And it must be particularly infuriating, because Andrew's need to protect Neil isn't the result of a deal at all. He wants to. Wow, he probably hates that he wants to.

It only gives Aaron some satisfaction; it is Neil they're talking about.

Andrew's frustrations bleed through the cracks a little more, and he harshly brushes a hand through his bedhead. "His cold is just going to get worse if he keeps it up."

Ah, so they're still sharing. Aaron can do that. It's a welcome distraction; he can only take so much of thinking about his brother's intimate relationship with the most infuriating person on the planet.

Aaron looks down at the tile, lining his feet up with the edge of the blocks as if he's walking a tightrope. "Katelyn tried to go to class this morning. She didn't want to miss her lecture," he says, and tries to act like it's no big deal. He sways a little, and swallows the lump in his throat, because these are not things he gives away to anyone. It's just as exposing; as soon as he'd found out, he'd walked her back to her dorm and helped her change into pajamas. She passed out almost instantly, her fever spiking. Too much care, too much worry. Aaron had paced the floor a good twenty minutes, debating an urgent care visit.

He's just as pathetic as Andrew, but he wouldn't dare stop if it means looking after Katelyn. He bites his lips and shrugs, as if it's not as emotionally revealing as it is. It probably doesn't work. "I was so mad. Uh, you know how it is."

No kidding—they both just accidentally revealed it. Aaron never thought 'hopelessly enamored' would ever be associated with his own feelings, much less Andrew's.

But there's really no other explanation with that one.

"Oh?" Andrew tilts his head, as if daring Aaron to continue. It's dangerous territory, but that's what they deserve for addressing an old therapy issue in the middle of a grocery store. They might know their feelings are the same, but verbally acknowledging how is a different matter.

So continue, Aaron does. Neither of them are getting out of this one.

Won't Bee be proud?

Petulantly, Aaron glares, and loses his balance on the wire. He promptly spirals down. "Yeah, well… You want to take care of Neil too, right?"

It's a dare, a provocation. It's also ill-advised, but he can't be more mature in every way. There's no way Andrew can refute it and have Aaron believe him. He's been trapped into the truth.

Andrew tenses and glares back, expressive for how much he tries not to be. Aaron is more used to that now too. On the subject of his striker, his brother can't keep up the expression. It melts back into a reluctant calm, and his sigh is relenting.

Right.

A store intercom rings above them, something about how they really need someone up on registers. It's grounding in a way; Aaron grabs a few more cans and stubbornly throws them into the basket by Andrew's feet.

They're in too deep at this point. This is now a joint trip, as painful as it may be. Andrew looks down at the basket, which as of now holds both their soup choices and a candy bar Andrew must've snagged along the way.

Andrew squints, looking back up at Aaron, and surprise, surprise...

"I need the extra strength cough syrup."

He avoids answering altogether.

Aaron sighs; he saw that coming, but Andrew's trapped himself unknowingly.

"That's more expensive, you know," Aaron says, a playful lilt to his tone.

Andrew glares, but he must admire Aaron somewhat for the payback, because he finally admits: "It's better for him, it's also the only one with the flavor he tolerates," Andrew grits out, and no amount of bravado can make that sound anything less than....oh, completely fucking whipped.

So, Andrew gives some more as a war prize. "I need the tissues with the lotion too."

Aaron suppresses his snort (also, for real, those can't be necessary), and dutifully leads them to the next aisle.

Andrew ends up convincing him that the lotion tissues are superior, so one point for him or whatever.

They still don't know how to do this, and they don't get a lot better at it over the course of the following forty-five minutes, but they continue dropping the most mundane facts in hopes it doesn't give too much away.

But it always does.

Andrew makes a sharp turn with the sole intention of making the basket stab Aaron in the knee, and Aaron kicks it in return. Then he realizes where they are, and the words pour like shots.

He wonders if it's a consequence of therapy, that he ends up flaying himself open for Andrew in the hopes that he'll be given honesty in return. He's learned that lately, it's more effective than he once thought.

"Katelyn...hasn't been drinking much lately," he starts slowly when they pass through the alcohol aisle. It's a far cry from the boring 'favorite color' facts he's been trading thus far, but it hits him like a blow. It's not that it hasn't been on his mind, he just hasn't had a chance to talk it out because...

Part of him kind of doesn't want to. The person he talks to is Katelyn, and he's not quite ready for this discussion.

But tonight's that kind of night.

The aisle is a shortcut, nothing more than a connector to the medicines on the far side, but Aaron falters. The brands and bottles all stir up confusing memories for him, some fun, some not so much. The colored glass warps his expression like liquor warps his mind, and his body is already swimming through molasses to keep up.

Mixing drinks with what he used to do was never smart, and Aaron's thankful he's where he is now. He's not so reckless, but he indulges from time to time. Katelyn used to also, but lately she's been finding more reasons not to. And that's okay. He's never pushed or questioned it, but he can't help but wonder. He pauses in front of the daiquiri mixes. Katelyn's favorite.

The action makes Andrew wait for him, regarding him from the end of the aisle for a long moment. Then, in another act that shouldn't surprise Aaron but does, Andrew comes back for him.

Aaron's closed throat feels less tight. What did he call Andrew earlier? A road block. No, maybe he's more like...a steel beam, every once in a while. Supportive, but it could crush him in an instant. It's not Andrew's intent, but he'll take it. "I know she's never been a drinker, but part of me thinks it's because she worries about me."

And there it is.

He's aware he should be angry, just a little. But he can't be, because the worry and judgment come from a place of honesty, commitment. Aaron won't say he hasn't had the same fear—the fear of falling back down a different hole of addiction. He's better now, more responsible. He couldn't imagine ruining their lives like that, but he and Katelyn are pragmatic people. He knows it's hard to keep control in those circumstances, to rise above once he's caught in the trap. It wouldn't be all his fault, but he's susceptible and they both know it. She would stand by him as much as she could, but Aaron's honestly not sure if he would want her to if it ever came down to that.

That's not fair, and that's why he's determined to not let it happen.

Katelyn's precaution, intentional or subconscious, is just her protecting him in return. It's what they need to work on, what they need to talk about, before it's twisted into a misunderstanding.

But revisiting old wounds is not what Aaron is good at. At least, not right away.

He's not expecting Andrew to say anything; it's not his business and his black and white worldview probably prevents him from seeing it that way. In his mind, Katelyn is in the wrong and that's all that matters.. If anything, Aaron expects that statement, but then—

"She shouldn't," Andrew says, nearly admonishing. Aaron's gaze snaps up, and Andrew glares at the bottles in front of him to avoid meeting his eyes. He'd usually grab that particular brand of whiskey, but today he doesn't. Then, after a moment: "Knowing her obnoxious levels of optimism, she's probably trying not to. But that's her problem."

Andrew’s words are strained, but no less meaningful. He doesn't do comfort, and that's not what this is. Aaron knows a few things in that moment; the first is that Andrew definitely does not agree with Katelyn. That's fine. He never asks his brother to understand everything about his relationship anymore. Aaron certainly doesn't understand parts of Andrew's. The second thing, arguably the aspect he cares about more, is that Andrew clearly knows something Aaron does not.

Andrew isn’t offering a pat on the back, only what he knows to be factual.

He feels involuntarily exposed this time, and forgets that sometimes it's simply the way it has to be to move forward. Aaron nearly growls. "How—"

But Andrew simply sends him a look that reads don't ask. Aaron should know the answer.

Neil.

It's been a while since Aaron has felt a sharp slap of disdain for the redhead, but it shoots through him in the moment before fizzling out. Of course. Why wouldn't Neil know? Why wouldn’t Neil confide in Andrew about it?

Aaron always liked to think it was a shared strength, that he and Andrew could trust their partners so completely, give or take some setbacks. But it seems this time he's the one lagging behind.

He glares at the floor. He doesn't know how to feel. Why Neil possibly knows about this issue before he gets to address it himself is something he wants to feel rage over, but he just can't. It's not like confronting Neil at the cabin or in the dorm hall. He doesn't have the energy, and he knows he doesn't want to.

It's not...like that anymore.

Just knowing Katelyn has someone to talk to is enough, because that only means eventually, she'll talk to him too. And can he blame her? Here he is, telling Andrew.

Andrew, who feels as much sympathy as a log on most days, is still trying his best to give Aaron the truth.

Leave it to Andrew to rip off the bandaid, and Aaron feels the sting. But he needed it. It's the only thing that reminds him it'll eventually be okay.

It's quiet for a few moments as Andrew looks back at the bottles, tracing the curvy scripts. There's a steadily building tension in his frame; at first, Aaron thinks it's repressed hostility towards Katelyn, but far from it.

Andrew's struggle to give in the same way is all too apparent in his words.

"Neil and I drink sometimes, just when we're together," Andrew forces out evenly. He reaches out to spin one of the security tags on a particularly large bottle of vodka, tracing the ears of the rabbit logo afterwards. Aaron flinches a little; he didn't know that. His brain catches up just enough, letting him know that Andrew is giving this to him in return for his own vulnerability, so he should at least listen. Flexing his jaw, Andrew's tone loses some of the smoothness. "Last time...something happened. With me. He's been hesitant ever since."

It sounds like Andrew is chewing glass, and Aaron knows better than to ask for an elaboration on the ‘what’ that happened. Hell, Andrew exposing the reason for his and Neil's weekend getaways is most likely more than Andrew wanted to share in the first place.

Andrew won't answer anything Aaron asks, but he reads into it enough. "You miss it," he says, and again it feels like they're on a level playing field.

Andrew glares his usual 'I don't miss anything' glare, but doesn't actually say the words. Instead, he turns back in the direction of the medicine aisle, and throws the words over his shoulder.

"I hate losing control," he states. "Neil is a reason I hate it less."

Translation: Yes, I miss it. But Neil is just as stupidly worried as Katelyn.

It goes unsaid that they ended up with worry warts for partners. Aaron gives up trying to analyze anymore; there are things about his brother and Neil that are impossible to grasp. But Aaron is learning more and more that their relationship has similar flaws to his own, that they have their own challenges to wade through.

And if one of them can manage, so can the other.

Aaron walks away from the aisle feeling less stuck—the quicksand around his ankles turns to water, easy to wade through.

He's not sure how many more of those confessions he's going to get, but he won't take them for granted.

Later, when they're passing through the candy section for Andrew's stockpile, the facts turn lighter. "Katelyn only eats the red starbursts, it's cute," he says, unable to hide his dreamy smile as he throws the red starbursts pack into the basket. She won't be able to taste them yet, but whatever, it'll be a welcome reward in a few days when her sniffles are gone.

Instead of the apathy and dismissiveness, Andrew holds the gummy bears in his hand at arm's length. Like they offend him. Aaron was wondering why he's even considering them. They're not even close to Andrew's usual brand of cavity inducers.

"Neil never finishes his gummy bears," Andrew says, and seethes a little over the word 'his.' Of course, it's Neil's fault that Andrew has to spend money on the bland treats Neil doesn’t even love. But Andrew puts them in the basket anyways. "Last time he was bored, so we built a fake set for them."

Aaron blinks, following after Andrew towards the registers. "Like...for a play?"

"It helped him study for his lit exam."

Somehow, it's impossible for his brain to conjure up an image of Andrew building a gummy bear Shakespeare set, but he supposes weirder things have happened. He wonders if Andrew indulges Neil by doing voices, or if he recites the lines in his normal dull monotone.

Aaron hides a smirk at the thought. "Nerds."

He takes them back to the medicine aisle last minute due to the guilt tripping from Andrew for buying the cheaper brand of cough syrup, and figures he might as well stock up on bandages too. Exy is a violent sport, and he's not quite sure why he plays it.

"Bandages are over there," Andrew says, pointing deliberately at where Aaron is clearly already looking. Dick. "Don't buy the cheap brand, they gave Neil a rash."

Aaron scoffs. "Guess you would know best, with how much your boy gets scraped up," he says, but he still listens. Once more, he notes that Andrew's suggestion is several dollars more. He really does spare no expense on anything, especially for his boy toy—boyfriend. Boyfriend.

"He's never as bad as the other person," Andrew remarks offhandedly, but Aaron gets stuck on the comment. Before, he used to not pay attention to anything Andrew said that didn't make sense to him, writing it off as unimportant. It's amazing what he can pick out now that he actually processes the words. In this case, it's thinly veiled praise for his violence-prone boyfriend.

Aaron's no idiot; Neil has to at least be somewhat capable at throwing a punch, and who knows what else.

It's appealing, watching someone you love trade blows. Aaron himself never fails to feel a rush of adrenaline and adoration when Katelyn rushes to his defense.

It would make sense for Andrew to enjoy watching Neil be his typical chaotic self. But for whatever reason, that logic doesn't compute with what he knows about Andrew's protective streak—especially where Neil is concerned.

And since he doesn't know how to put that all into words, he says: "I don't know how you don't kill anything that tries to touch him."

That's how he thought it worked, how he's seen it work. So why all the fuss about letting Neil fight his own battles, when it's clear it eats at Andrew like a vulture picking at his intestines?

Andrew regards him slowly, looking at him like he's grown two heads. Right, because Aaron is supposed to be able to parse through all their weird layers. He rolls his eyes.

"I will when he asks," Andrew responds calmly, and before Aaron can open his mouth he holds up a hand. "And he does."

Again, a warning laces his tone: don't ask.

Aaron huffs. Fine. He guesses he'll believe it for now. Come to think of it, he's been seeing less and less of Neil's insistence to handle shit on his own. Just the other week, he seemed to give up too easily when arguing with a jock from another team, and Andrew had stepped in a moment later.

He had thought Neil looked a little too happy about that.

Tracking him still, Andrew shrugs in such a careless way that he'd think Neil had taken over his body. "I know he doesn't need it. And yes, it's annoying."

Aaron's not so sure. It's scary how Andrew can read his mind sometimes, can connect the dots of the intricate roadmap between them. He sees things from a distance, sees it all, while Aaron is the one who forces them to actually zoom in and take in the landscape. Piece by piece, he forces them to explore.

"So why do it?" he asks, frustrated, but Andrew only picks up the blue can of chicken noodle and waves it in Aaron's face.

"Soup."

Fine, don't tell me.

He figures this is just Andrew's way of saying he's done with the abnormal sharing for the night, but then he realizes. Soup. Motherfucking soup? Aaron had said—

"You want to take care of Neil too, right?"

Son of a bitch. Does Andrew always have to be so cryptic and non-linear?

That's the explanation. It's the obvious one, the one Aaron could already infer. But the confirmation is staggering. Andrew wants to protect Neil; more than that, he likes to. That's the difference. He never would've admitted that before. It doesn't matter how capable Neil is or how appealing it is to see him fight. At the end of the day, they both have some weird thing about it.

Aaron feels nauseated. He’s learned too much. Again.

"Is that really so hard to say, Andrew?" Aaron huffs the next moment though, so he guesses he must be more upset than he thought. "You know, I'm trying here."

He only has so much tolerance for his brother's ways. He can detect them better now; he can see the ins and outs. But sometimes it's tiring. Sometimes he wants to be given things in the same straightforward way he gives them. It's childish, it's selfish, but fucking hell, Aaron isn't perfect. He knows it won't happen, but if they're still being truthful, then Aaron can at least let Andrew know that it's hard sometimes.

It's hard to do this, but it's worth it. So he won't stop. Andrew just has to put up with his bitching every now and again.

At 10 p.m., he's reached his limit.

Andrew beats him to it, throwing up a barrier for Aaron's rage to smash into and fizzle out into nothing. "Are you going to scream your undying love for Mrs. Minyard to me, then?" he asks, and Aaron jumps back. Andrew's anger simmers, barely, but his words are cutting. "I am trying too."

They've both been trying so damn hard the past year. And for what?

Well—for a lot, actually. They've certainly gained more than they've lost.

And like that, Aaron's made Andrew give more than he was maybe willing to tonight. The guilt sits somewhere in his gut, but he can't regret it. Because Andrew still confessed. Andrew still held out his hand, just a little. Like he's been doing for months.

Aaron can't begin to imagine how horrible it must be, for someone like his twin to acknowledge the effort he's putting in. It sounds ridiculous, but Aaron should get it better than anyone right? That it's hard to admit you have faith in something when not much in your life ever lasted before.

Taming his own outburst, Aaron clenches his fists at his sides. Slow, measured. "I know, but—"

"You're suddenly so hung up on listening to Bee, what happened to her affinity for patience?" Andrew says, nearly mocking, but Aaron knows it's not some flippant comment. He means it. He's telling Aaron to back off, and while he respects it most days, he feels too close to a revelation to listen.

This is never easy, and it shouldn't be. Not for them. They always knew that, even before they were fully convinced they could get any farther than silent videogame marathons and nods from across the room. Before they thought they would ever keep in touch past college.

Now, Aaron knows there's no way they won't. They're just...fighting. They're having a typical, moronic squabble. It's not a setback, it's not a threat. Aaron has to repeat that over and over in his head, and it somehow makes snapping back less menacing.

"Asshole," he bites out. "You just want to get out of it. You know it's...it's fine to just say those things, it's—"

"Normal?" Andrew asks, and yup, that's definitely mocking. Aaron's not sure what that means, what's in Andrew's head about the word or Aaron's connection to it, but it doesn't matter.

"Yes," Aaron says with a laugh, disbelieving. He paces to the end of the aisle and back. He knows he's just as thick headed, and that's what hurts the most. Embarrassing. "It's normal to just admit you think your dumb boyfriend is cute, and talk about him because to be honest, it's obvious already how much you want to!"

It's potentially unfair; he never expects normalcy from Andrew. He doesn't want it anymore, apart from getting to act like brothers and argue without the fear of exploding and fucking up everything. Aaron wouldn't dare ask Andrew to be normal in any situation, but this is different. He's not saying it's normal or necessary for society's standards, or because other people do it. He's saying it's fucking normal because Andrew wants it to be. Hell; Aaron's been watching his twin bite his tongue and keep back details from Aaron all night. No shit, Andrew will never share the private feelings—the ones he keeps close, just between himself and Neil. But goddamn, if he wants to tell Aaron about Neil's weird gummy bear Macbeth monologue, he should just go for it.

For a while, Andrew stands there, tight lipped, until finally: "I don't care what's normal." For a brief moment, Aaron thinks he's lost this round, that the point escaped Andrew completely. But his twin is smart. Stubborn, and infuriating too. But smart. With a sigh, Andrew relents, though not without resistance in his voice. "I care...that it's us."

Aaron holds his breath, waiting for Andrew to refute it or storm away. But he doesn't, and Aaron can exhale.

Yes, duh. Neil and Andrew...no one will ever mistake them for anything remotely close to normal. They've built their own version of it though, and Aaron only hopes that in time Andrew can expand the definition to include this. That he'll be able to indulge himself however he wants, like Aaron does with Katelyn. That he'll be able to talk about Neil without worrying about how it reveals his feelings. Because Andrew hates sharing Neil, but he wants to trust Aaron enough to offer bits and pieces.

And Aaron wants to do the same. It's been a rough first attempt, but an attempt regardless.

And anyways, Aaron won't tell him tonight, but one day he's really going to have to let his twin know...

Andrew's feelings haven't been well hidden for a long time.

Until then, they have to deal with the awkwardness they created, standing in silence as an old lady walks through the aisle and regards them warily.

They should've saved this for their session. Whoops.

Pathetically, for the sake of doing something, Aaron grabs a thermometer (he needs one of those, right?) and throws it into the basket. Awesome.

In return, since that's the glorious theme of the night, Andrew tosses in some bandaids. The patterned ones. They're pink and cutesy, and make him think of Katelyn, wrapped in her fluffy pink towel after yet another hot shower to clear her sinuses.

He doubts Neil is faring better. They should get back.

At the thought of Katelyn, Aaron smiles. It brings him back to something softer Andrew said, though just as peculiar. He never fails at that.

"Why do you call her that?" Aaron asks, breaking the silence. It's gentler this time, less of a shatter and more of a push. When Andrew blinks, Aaron waves his hand. "Mrs. Minyard."

It gives Aaron a funny feeling in his chest, not necessarily good but also not bad, and he pushes it away to deal with another time.

Andrew's expression gives nothing away. That’s always the case, but even more so this time. It's blank, but he blinks slowly, chewing on his words in the way Aaron hates. Well, he supposes no one can quit cold turkey.

"A feeling," Andrew answers, and doesn't elaborate. He looks down at his own hand for a moment too long, flexing his fingers, then turns away like it's nothing. Aaron doesn't have enough braincells left to figure out what the fuck it's all about.

"Come on, let's go," Andrew says. Aaron feels like after all that, he has to put himself out there at least once. He has to prove to Andrew it's okay. It's okay to do this and trust him with this, so he'll believe in Andrew too.

"I do. Love her, I mean," Aaron says, mumbling the statement petulantly. He's a natural grump. It’s unavoidable. However, when Andrew turns back, he clears his throat. He can't say this without enthusiasm, without conviction. It's just not possible. He thinks of Katelyn's sugary sweet smiles, the croak of her voice after she cheers him on too hard. He thinks of it all—of tears staining his sweater, of being held while shedding his own. He thinks of calloused hands, rife with paper cuts from too many study guides, and the way she whispers each goodbye, because she secretly hates them. All of that and more, too much to contain in the word, but he tries. "I love her so much, it feels like saying it cheapens it somehow. I...don't usually, unless we're alone. But I do."

And it's humiliating to say to this person—his brother, someone who he's always held at an emotional distance. But he can't hope to bridge this gap any other way; he can't hope for more of Andrew's steps forward if he doesn't take his own.

It's a formula they're familiar with now. It's one he hopes they never stop using.

And just when he thinks it's for nothing, Andrew nods. Once, subtly, but he does.

"I understand," he offers, and there's a heaviness to the statement Aaron doesn't get. But it's enough. He wants to tell Andrew it's enough, but Andrew meets him halfway. "Neil told me people don't have to say it, if they know it's true. He's infuriating like that, but he's right about people's idiocy."

Aaron has a feeling 'people' is being used as a stand in there, but he doesn't comment. He's well aware he doesn't have to say it, that saying it changes nothing about how he feels. But—

"I guess he's right for once," Aaron comments lazily, and throws Andrew a smug smile. "But I still want to."

He likes to. And that's all there is to it, sometimes.

So if you one day want to, I'm all ears.

Even if it's not the three words, if it's just some offhand comment about Neil's fighting skills, or where he and Andrew went on a date...he'll listen.

It'll be gross, but he's got plenty more anecdotes to throw back. He despises admitting when Bee is right, but he'll give her credit this time.

They have their people, and they should be able to talk about them.

Andrew rolls his eyes, but stubbornly keeps his gaze fixed forward. "Don't give him that much credit," he mutters, and no, Aaron wouldn't dream of it.

They don't mean to sync up their steps as they walk. It just happens.

"Oh, hang on," Aaron says out of the blue as they stand in line. He's thankful he has some control of his reflexes, as he almost smacked Andrew in the arm. They aren't there yet.

But nevermind that. Priorities. Next to them is a toy stand, one of those three tier ones grocery stores always put near the registers because little kids can't resist hounding their parents for one. This one in particular has a good selection of tiny stuffed toys, and Aaron spies his jackpot almost immediately.

It's a spotted, light pink kitten with giant eyes. It's soft, and so absurd looking. Whoever designed it probably tried to think of everything cutesy they could before sewing it onto the plush. In short, it's the kind of sappy, adorable thing Katelyn will love.

Proudly, he picks it up and holds it in front of him like he's a genius. He sort of is.

He's not sure he's ever seen his brother look so disgusted in his life, which is saying quite a lot. Aaron's smugness increases.

God, it's minuscule. It fits in his hand perfectly. If he's lucky, Katelyn will squeal even through all the snot.

He's not sure why Andrew decides to humor him. He must be in a better mood than Aaron thought, since he eventually asks: "Why?"

Aaron is all too happy to explain. He holds the kitten up to Andrew's face as if tempting a rabid rottweiler.

"Ah—what? It's cute. Katelyn loves stuff like this," he explains, but his next words have a softer edge. It happens against his will, and he blames it on Katelyn entirely. Knowing this ridiculous thing will bring her some joy is more than worth the twelve dollar price tag. "It'll make her feel better. Like a gift, ever heard of one? I've seen Neil's growing wardrobe. He's not buying his own clothes."

Andrew's expression sours further, but he doesn't fight the statement right away. He should know he can't. The clothes are only one example; Aaron's also seen the jewelry and various fox-themed knick knacks Neil has lying around. Idiot.

Instead, Andrew bats the kitten away. “Clothes are required, especially when you live out of one bag your whole life," he comments, but it doesn't expose him any less. From the smug grin on Aaron's face, Andrew must sense it. He points at the kitten harshly. "That, however, is pointless."

Aaron's grin falls, but he's unwilling to give up. Andrew obviously doesn't see the full picture in this case. He holds the kitten close to his chest. While he normally hates these things too, it's been designated as a gift for Katelyn.

Therefore, it's sacred.

"It's adorable. Katelyn will go nuts over it, and I'll take sick kisses over no kisses," Aaron points out, and delights in the moment Andrew tenses. Haha. "You're only hurting yourself."

"Never thought I'd hear that in this context," Andrew mutters, but turns back to the stand with significantly less annoyance.

Aaron is having too much fun.

"I'm just saying, Neil would probably hate this shit on its own..." he adds, and leaves the rest unsaid. The implication is clear. Neil could give a rat's ass about gifts and stuffed toys. But coming from Andrew?

He'd probably burst, like a loser. And whether or not Andrew likes to admit it, it's a weakness. He can't resist evoking that reaction from his jock boyfriend.

Still, he tries. "Neil would never be interested in this," Andrew says, and reaches out to grab one of the toys roughly. It's a little stuffed lamb with snow white wool, and it’s even smaller than the kitten. In Andrew's large, murderous hands, it almost seems to be crying out to Aaron for help.

Andrew stares at it for an impossibly long time, and then it's their turn. Aaron takes the basket from Andrew's stalled hands and tries not to make any wheezing sounds from how heavy it is. Andrew was carrying that shit for an hour?

"Well, how would you know?" Aaron throws over his shoulder as he dumps the contents onto the conveyor belt. He looks at the lamb, at how stupid it looks, and wonders when he himself got so soft. He's not sure what it's a consequence of, but it doesn't feel bad.

No reason to question it.

Andrew turns to him and arches a brow, and Aaron delivers his final punch.

"Neil's probably never had a stuffed animal before," he remarks, doing his best to impersonate Neil's shrug. The ones Allison has tried to force on Neil in the past don’t exactly count. Then, because they share the asshole trait, Aaron adds: "I mean, living out of a bag and all."

And oh, Andrew's glare could send their world as they know it straight to the depths of hell. He squeezes the lamb in a death grip, but notably doesn't let go.

Aaron's spine tingles from Andrew's intense, vengeful stare on the back of his neck as the cashier rings them up, but whatever revenge he gets will be worth it. He figures it can't be too bad when Andrew offers him a ride home, and the silence is more peaceful than anything else.

They walk to the dorms with the stuffed animals pressed under their elbows. If they both end up sick a few days later, neither of them choose to bring up the cause.

#all for the game #andrew minyard #aaron minyard #andreil #kateaaron

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