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msmarvelouswinchester · 1 year ago

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If We Love Again

Summary: Whatever problems we had back then don’t exist anymore. It’s why we have this second chance, and we can’t throw it away. -Michelle Maddow

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Y/N (Reader)

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader

WC: 1942

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending. Post-canon where DEAN IS ALIVE, kinda sappy, body-shaming (not by the boys), hugs and kisses

Square Filled: Your hands are tough, but they are where mine belong ( @taylorswiftbingo )

A/N: Alright. Alright. Hello you people! Jfc, how long has it been? A lot of things happened (personal matters and fandom problems too) so I took a break. Kind of gave up writing for a bit. Then two boys - Alex and Henry (RWRB fandom, I'm looking at you) got me back to writing! And of course I had to write for my baby, Dean Winchester!

And I've also lost my taglist. So sorry for not tagging anyone in this.

Completely unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine.

“What’re you doing here?” The usual routine of the bunker had been thrown off-kilter when Y/N had appeared, looking…frazzled. Maybe a tad smile but her eyes shone with unshed tears. And she was drenched to the bones and panting like she had run a mile to get to the bunker. The man welcomed her inside, saying, “Come in first, you are fucking wet.”

The words slipped and the man’s eyes widened, expecting a snobbish remark from her about the word and its placement in the sentence but soon enough, he frowned because Y/N didn't comment on the…apparent opportunity of turning the entire conversation inappropriate. Like she always did. But today, she wordlessly accepted the man’s gratuitous welcome and headed inside the old establishment.

Once at the end of the stairs, she said, rather whispered, “Hey Dean. Can you do me a favour? I need a hug.” If Dean didn't know what heaven looked like, he would have guessed he had ascended to heaven at Y/N’s request.

Dean, who had sprinted down the steps, looked at her and nodded, opening his arms. Y/N stepped into the hug and wrapped her arms around his torso, hands finding the nape of his neck. Dean’s hands had also instantly found their shelter around her body. They stayed in the position for a while. Y/N inhaled deeply quite a few times. The unforgettable scent of cinnamon and gunpowder hitting her and she let the tears fall as she let her guard down for the first time that night and Dean’s hold around her tightened. The sobs that left her, wrecked his heart. Each wail was like a dagger to his chest. He hated seeing her sad. He rested his chin on the top of her head, the familiar smell of her shampoo gave him whiplash as the memories of…everything queued up inside his head. But he still didn't know what had prompted her to show up at her place. “Y/N, sweetheart, can you look at me? I need you to look at me,” Dean murmured, “please.”

His voice washed over her and the sobbing turned into sniffles. She sniffled against the now wet, snot-covered spot on Dean’s tshirt before her red-rimmed, puffy eyes found his worried green ones. “‘M sorry,” she whimpered.

“Hey, shh, what're you sorry for? For ruining my shirt? Oh, I'll just bribe Sammy to do the laundry,” Dean grinned but the worry never left his eyes.

“I just—Dean, I'm sorry for…s-showing up tonight unannounced…I shouldn't have…what was I even thinkin’? Dean, I’ll—uh…see myself out.” Y/N said, and fidgeted in Dean’s grip but he was reluctant to let go. Not when she had just shown up a few minutes ago and broke down in his arms.

Dean said, “Stop, Y/N. Stop. It's alright. That's what best friends are for.” Nope, not letting you go this time.

“But…” Did you forget the part where we dated and broke up and vowed to never see each other again because it would break our hearts even more?

“No buts,” Dean said, as if he could read the thoughts in her head, “Whatever happened…happened. You were my best friend and you still are. If you need me, in a heartbeat, I'll be there for you. Do you understand that?” He glanced up, Jack if this is your doin’ because I pretty much dreamed about second chances last night then thanks, buddy.

Y/N nodded.

“Now let's go sit down. I'm gonna go find Sam and let him know you're here. And then we can go and kick some asses.” Dean gently guided her to his room in the bunker and sat her down on his bed, asking if she needed anything to drink, water or beer or anything to eat, knowing all they had was pie and a greasy two-days old burger in the freezer. They really needed to stock up their fridge more now they have started to live normal lives.

Y/N, though just asked for water.

Dean winked and said he would be back in a minute. And he was, with Sam in tow who had scooped her up in a giant hug. Oh, she had missed them.

“Hi, Sam. You look…different.” Y/N giggled at Sam in his formal clothes instead of the layers of plaid she was used to seeing on him. She had heard that the Winchesters had retired from hunting but seeing them bask in their post-retirement glory was astonishing.

“Yeah, had a makeover sorta, got myself a job and everything—”

“And a girlfriend,” Dean wiggled his brows and his brother blushed furiously. In between the conversation, Dean had handed Y/N a glass of water and sat down beside her on the bed.

She sipped on the water and hummed thoughtfully, “Who would have thought? Our little Sammy, all grown up!”

And for the first since her alarmingly sudden visit to the bunker, Y/N smiled.

“Oh shut up. Enough about me. Dean said something to me about kicking someone's asses. Do we have to bring out our hunting gear?” Y/N’s eyes widened at the question.

“No! Jesus, no guns. And no violence.” She warned the Winchesters.

“Can’t promise on the violence part, sweetheart!” Dean smirked. “So what happened?”

“Honestly. I think I'm good. It was a moment of…sadness but I'm oka—”

Dean cut her off, saying, “Y/N you were wailing. That was not nothing. Come on, tell us, we swear we'll be good.”

Y/N hesitated and Sam decided to put her out of her misery, “Whatever Dean says, if you don't feel comfortable in telling us. Don't tell.”

“Oh…” Dean sighed, “Yeah, I…I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. You seriously don't have to tell us, if you're not up for it.”

“It's just not that,” she swallowed hard. It should be easy to tell them, right? They were her best friends. She took a deep breath and said, “The guy, I am…or rather was dating—” She felt Dean tense up beside her and Sam side-eyed his brother but she continued “-well, he was an asshole. A dickhead. A fucking son of a bitch.”

Sam chuckled. “That's quite a description.”

“Yeah. So I applied for this job in NYC and well…I got it—” her heart soared in her chest as she watched the brothers’ faces split into a huge grin “-but this moron of my ex-boyfriend decided to throw my insecurities to my face because he didn't want me to go to NYC.”

Now looking back, Y/N didn't know why she was sad. She was angry. No, she was pissed because how dare a pathetic little man order her around about whether or not she should work in New York. “He was worried that I wasn't too pretty for the NYC girls, that I was too soft to survive in a big city like New York—”

This time Dean chuckled. Because Y/N wasn't soft, she was a hunter. Born into a hunter family only to give it all up because she wanted a quieter life. But she knew how to fight, how to wield a gun. And she was pretty. Too pretty and even after four years of breaking up, Dean’s heart still skipped a beat when she called his name, looked at his face and he was still enamoured by her very existence.

“So I told him that I would leave his sorry ass,” Y/N’s lips trembled, “and he said it was going to be the best thing because I wasn't worth enough for him to fight for because I…I am ‘too much’ and I…I don't put an effort into being the woman a man wants, no…needs. And in that moment, I got so sad, I needed to see you. Because I missed you guys so much. I missed this where no one judged me or at least didn't use to until…well, I…yeah. So, this is how I showed up here.”

“You're always welcome here, Y/N. And I'm sorry, things haven't been…good for a few years but don't think for a second we will judge you or not let you back into our lives,” Dean’s hands had snaked back around her waist, pulling her closer while she continued, “Well, he was kinda right. Don't you think? I talk too much. Sometimes I go on a ramble. I don't watch my diet—”

“That son of a bitch body-shamed you?” Dean was seething.

“Yeah. And he said, I was too much of a work to stay with. I have always been told that I'm too much of a work but it still hurts—”

Dean said, “Well the guy is an idiot. You aren't too much of a work, sweetheart.”

Y/N, this ain't gonna work. You want me. I want you but you don't want this hunting life while THIS hunting is my life. This relationship is going to be so much of a work and with Cain on the loose, I don't think I can put that much effort in this. Y/N gave Dean a soft smile, “I don't want to bring up old memories but you also said that, pretty much four years back.”

Sam’s mouth fell open. “What the hell, Dean?”

“W-I? I was under the influence of the mark, Y/N and you knew it. I pushed away so many people. Letting you go was my biggest mistake. And I regret it because I still fucking love yo—” Dean’s mouth snapped shut.

And for the second time, Sam exclaimed, “What the hell, Dean?”

“Yo–love…what?” Y/N whispered.

Dean turned towards his brother, “Sammy.”

“Yeah.” Sam quickly stepped out of the room.

“Y/N. Letting you go was my biggest mistake and never calling you up was my biggest regret. I should have called because I still need you. And now I have this life. You know I start a new job next week? It's a construction but yeah. And it got me thinkin’ about you. Yeah. I was thinking how I fucked us over and never got to tell you the truth. I never got over us, you. I…I never wanted you to go—”

“I remember very clearly you throwing me out of the bunker and telling me never to contact you again. You know what, showing up tonight was my bigges—”

“Son of a bitch, I can't believe I'm fucking doin’ this,” Dean murmured.

“Wha–” The rest of the question turned into a squeak and Dean’s lips crashed into her. And then the thoughts crashed into him. Fuck.

Dean immediately jumped back from her. “I'm so sor—”

“If you dare to say sorry for this, I am telling Sammy to shoot you in your dick, asshole,” Y/N panted, “Fucking come, kiss me, you moron!”

“You sure? You just had a breakup and…”

Y/N looked at Dean, “I know. But Dean, I had kept loving you all along and maybe by some, heaven’s grace—”

“Jack’s grace.”

“Who’s Jack?”

“God. Well, new God. Jack had been living with us…its a long story for another time.”

“Yeah so, by Jack’s grace, maybe it's my second chance at being with you. Loving you.” Dean’s breath hitched at her words, “Your hands are tough, but they are where mine belong.”

So he walked up to her, and pulled her into a loving kiss. It was soft, eager and…just like old times.

They separated but their foreheads touched as they panted for air. “Second chance?” Dean asked

Y/N nodded, “Second chance.”

He smiled, “This time I'll leave no stones unturned to make this work. Because Y/N, sweetheart, you are worth everything.”

Oh boy, I'm kinda rusty XD

Let me know your thoughts! Comments are highly appreciated!

#supernatural #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean x y/n #sam winchester

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discowingneckline · 10 months ago

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reasons i hate rhato pt1

this pertains to v1 #1, so expect more at some point when i can stomach looking at it again. this is exactly what the title says. hey, do you like rhato? great, fuck off and don't read something that is going to upset you. i don't care what your good opinions are of this. the run sucks, and it deprives almost every other character of their personality for the sake of jason's character.

why does jason not have clothes on? why is his stupid little cute jacket not on him? why didn’t anyone give him underwear? if there’s clothes for kory, there must be clothes for him! if kory took off his clothes, it makes little sense why she wouldn’t put some on him where he isn’t injured at the very least.

why didn’t kory keep his gun farther away from jason, and also why wouldn’t a seasoned hero at the very least not take the bullets out of his gun like be so for real. she clearly doesn’t recognize him here (for some fucking reason)

why does kory look at jason and think of her and dick post sexy times?? why do you fucking think the first thing on her mind for memory is that shit? fucking weirdo.

also why is kory so white-looking? fucking weirdo. why is she stick thin?

i don’t like the relationship here of dick and jason. i am a jason todd is a nice good robin. like yeah a bit of attitude but um…ew

also why is kory here in the first place and living like this? she is a woman of class, thank you very much.

if kory had “male clothes” the entire time, back to a previous point, why didn’t she put them on jason (since she already took off his clothes to treat him) or at least keep them near jason for when he would wake up? it’s giving that scott lobdell just wanted excuses to have jason nude for like all of this issue and to dumb kory down to be super sexual.

also kory’s proportions are so weird and off. and also, let’s be so for real, they took away her curves and like body fat? like she was super strong, buff, hot before man. what the fuck.

“they appear to be the correct size” which one? the robin suit? the nightwing suit? which nightwing suit? also this is giving, based on previous panels, “jason has to face his horrible brother’s suit and take his mantle, but this time (super edgy shit) he makes it his own!” get a fucking grip.

the amount of jason calling kory “orange” when he knows her name and her title!! it’s giving fucking racist behavior. and it’s just rude. he literally got called out about it a second ago and he made this huge apology, just to do the same shit repeatedly again. speaking of that, comparing her to something from national geographic is giving…dehumanization.

where did kory get these clothes? how long has she been where she is? what the fuck. also, not that kory wouldn’t wear stuff like that, but?? i don’t see why she has so many changes of clothes that are almost carbon copies of the same shit.

what is that flashback she has with nightwing and arsenal? first off, what the hell is that roy? second off, why is kory’s body shaped like that? also this suit of her’s sucks. worst i’ve seen ever. my irl friend also complained about nightwing’s shoulders and the overall anatomy of the art. said it was shit.

why is jason handling guns and weapons with no shirt on? why are they so set on not giving this man clothes?

“she obviously loved dick grayson—almost as intently as i hated him” be so fucking for real right now. get a fucking grip. is this where the bulk of “bad sibling dick grayson” comes from for jason todd fics? because lmao be so for real.

what is jason’s anatomy this page specifically? what the fuck is it?

oh my fucking god. why does kory go to kiss jason?? in the water?? at night?? at fucking all? like kory isn’t shy with her sexuality, but jfc. you’re trying to tell me after she was so hung up about nightwing (??) that she just throws herself to whatever man is available? be so for real. she has fucking standards, and jason todd will never meet them. it’s giving that someone (scott lobdell) had a thing for a character (kory) and was using a self-insert (jason todd) to get that.

also what is with all of her thigh gaps?? give my princess her body back please holy shit.

…i read more, and what the hell is: “it is one of the ways my people assimilate language, knowledge—you said you wanted to talk, i only assumed…” kory was literally talking to him for several days in english. why the fuck would she kiss him? again, makes no sense. you’re making a very intelligent woman fucking stupid so jason can seem cool and smart and desired. it’s gross.

…why does kory’s power look like that? um…ew.

“sometimes they are crazed vigilantes pretending to love us like a son” be so fucking for real. as though jason and bruce didn’t have a decent relationship at the bare minimum. also?? what the literal fuck is “pretending to love us like a son” bruce does love jason, and of course dick as well. perhaps he isn’t always the best at showing it, but he does. and if this is another jab about bruce not killing the joker? literally get off of it. that is not fair for jason to say shit like that. it goes against everything bruce has ever stood for since he was a child, and it’s insane to expect bruce to do whatever jason wants when jason is going out killing a ton of people and overall just being a piece of shit.

why is jason talking about friendship and romance when it pertains to kory?? be so fucking for real. i do not believe for a second that kory would get with jason after their talk if jason truly talked to her about everything (because she would know that she was/is in love with dick, and i don’t take her for being someone who would throw herself at his brother).

…i wonder what “qurac” would possibly be a stand in for. also why would roy harper just be sitting and taking that? also why is it just jason who is going out to get roy and not, oh i don’t know?? his fucking family??

if you guys want to see the panels from the points i gave, just let me know and i will reblog with them included.

#op #dc #dc comics #anti rhato #jason todd #koriand'r #roy harper #dick grayson #nightwing #starfire #arsenal dc #i fucking hate this #and the art is pretty shitty too

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chilewithcarnage · 5 months ago

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hi,

first off, you are awesome and i love following you. amazing taste and an absolute great person all around. want and hope better things for you and your family bc y'all deserve!

i think the past few weeks, but moreso lately, this site is just the blog version of a03 where it centers white gay (maybe lesbian?) fandom weirdos who are freaks for all the wrong reasons.

like i don't remember the circumstance of karp(?) leaving and who was the owner before the current trash rn, but at the very least even if this site was predominately white, i can still find corners of black or other poc blogger's content to enjoy and it's getting harder to do that!!

also bc i'm isolated, i'm obvs horny, but now nsfw blogs are being nuked even though there's an existing mature content filter so like what's the post (besides attacking trans women rmfe). like it feels like the acceptable freaky things are like fucking i*cest, i just want to see black women make out and twerk jfc

(also on larger scale there's an uptick of ~faux~ i*cest p0rn i.e step family shit and like whyyyyyy????) i just want hot women (of color) being all over each other is getting harder to find or filter through or isn't behind a paywall :((

i'm just a wall of anxiety and dread bc of everything going on w/ the genocides, covid denial, yt ppl in general, and this staff so idk where to turn with this anger and frustration

sorry to vent but i don't have anyone to talk to. ilu and wishing your sis a safe work trip and that she gets to have a couple days to enjoy herself at least

hey friend, starting off thank you so much for the kind words and well wishes my sis did manage to have safe trip she's been back for about a week now. now I get where you're coming from completely and I don't mind being a listening ear for you, I'm honestly sorry that took so long for me to respond to you. It is in fact frustrating the way that tides have turned in terms of the culture and populace of tumblr and how it's run and who's running it. I've been on here for 11 years and idk if I can say the current wave of things is the lower point this site has ever been at but it's pretty damn close. I was so confident that yahoo wouldn't have ended up bagging this place but look where we're at now, missing 75% of our original user base, 💖💙🤍💙💖♀️ getting deleted left and right. it's a shit show indeed. don't even get me started on the lack of black and brown oriented nsfw content and the rise of the proshit ppl.

#anon #i hope you in turn are having lovely day/night

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 11 months ago

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Hot Chocolate, Ice Skates, and Prince Charming

Heya! I’ve just been quietly reading and rereading all your Roman angst and I hope you’re not tired of writing it because I have an idea 😅 How about some christmas Roman angst? I can’t think of anything specific but there’s that XD Keep up the writing and don’t feel pressured to post the fic on Christmas or to even take the request ❤️- lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie

Hello hello! :) Absolutely adore your work, and I hope you're having a wonderful holiday! I have come with a request for whenever you're up to it. If you would, it would be amazing to see your take on a Christmas-y themed fic with a focus on disabled Virgil. I had a hankering for Hallmark styled Christmas movies lately and I was just thinking about how fun it would be in your style. Hope that's ok! – anon

Read on Ao3

Warnings: some ableist language

Pairings: prinxiety (i am ashamed at how long it took me to fucking remember what their ship name is jfc)

Word Count: 10,080

At some point, Virgil will work out the exact science of how much to say 'yes' to friends who desperately want to do holiday-spirit-festive-stuff because they're his friends and he loves being there to watch them love things, but he also does not enjoy dying of either pain or sensory overload. This year doesn't look to be one of those years where he does better than others, though, if being surrounded by screaming children and off-key grainy speakers belting Mariah Carey for the past Too Fucking Long is any indication. He ducks his head to avoid yet another flying something-or-other as he huddles in on himself, making sure his cane doesn't get knocked over for the fourth time in as many minutes. "Excuse me?" He turns, half expecting someone selling cotton candy or those little memorabilia keychains, and— Oh. Hello. *** Virgil, fed up with the holiday spirit, meets Roman, a man who seems far too good to be true for such an auspicious time of year. From apology hot chocolate to late-night Christmas lights, maybe this year the magic will linger just a little bit longer.

May your days be merry and bright indeed.

He sighs, squinting fruitlessly through the crowd to maybe catch sight of one of his friends' coats or something, before realizing that there's absolutely no way he's going to be able to do that when he can't even see the skating rink over the crowd gathered around the outside. And sure, he could stand, but is he going to? No. So he may as well just continue sitting here until one of them remembers that yeah, he's here too, and wades through the horde to his little bench oasis.

"Excuse me?"

He turns, half expecting someone selling cotton candy or those little memorabilia keychains, and—

Oh.

Hello.

"Sorry," the actual fucking model in front of him says, smiling sheepishly, "is the other half of this bench taken?"

"No," Virgil says way too quickly, but can you fucking blame him? The prettiest human that's ever existed just asked if he could sit down next to him. "Bench, uh—bench is very much not taken, you can—you can sit."

"Thanks."

Well, this might have backfired, because now very-pretty-attractive person is sitting right next to Virgil. And he definitely knows how to deal with this. Yeah, this is fine. This is totally fine. He just has to not keep sneaking glances at his perfectly coiffed hair…or his jawline…or the freckle right on the end of his nose…

"Is there something on my face?"

Shit. Fuck. "No, no, you're fine—" really fucking fine, dude— "sorry, I, uh, didn't mean to stare."

He chuckles. Not fair. Not fair at all. "It's okay, honey, no harm done."

Abort fucking mission, abort fucking mission, Very Pretty Person just called me a pet name, shit fuck holy shit what the fuck am I supposed to do?

He's spared the humiliation of verbal floundering when he chuckles again and holds out his hand. "Roman."

"Virgil." Please God, I hope my hand isn't too sweaty. "Nice, uh, nice to meet you."

"Likewise." Roman nods his chin toward the skating rink. "Taking a break?"

"Oh, I, uh, I'm not really big into ice skating."

"You've dragged yourself all the way to the madhouse and you're not going inside?"

"My friends," he says lamely, waving toward the entrance, "they really wanted to come, so I tagged along."

Roman hums, tilting his head. "Not very nice of them to leave you behind, is it?"

Shut up, he hisses at his heart which starts to pulse threateningly towards his throat, it's fine. This is fine. "It's fine. I don't really mind."

"Yes, being surrounded by extremely loud children and sitting right underneath a speaker," Roman says skeptically, "I'm sure."

"Well, I—uh—"

Roman sighs. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude. It's none of my business, I know."

It totally could be your business though. Like, I would have exactly zero problems if you decided it was your business.

"I'll go with you if you want."

Virgil shakes himself out of his thoughts in time to see Roman smiling softly at him and he needs to figure out what the fuck he just said real fast before he gets lost in it. "Sorry, what?"

"If you want to go skate," Roman repeats, "I know it's hard if you're by yourself, especially in a crowd this big, so I'd be happy to come with if you wanted."

His heart sinks and the cane at his side grows a little colder. He forces himself to smile and shakes his head. "Sorry, I, uh, really am not into skating."

"Come on," Roman coaxes, holding his hand out, "I promise I'll be nice."

This is torture. This is literal actual torture and Virgil is about to sink into this fucking bench because the most attractive person he's ever fucking laid eyes on is asking him to skate and he can't and he's going to have to say no and then Roman might leave and they won't get a chance to talk anymore or he'll find out why Virgil doesn't want to skate and then it might turn out that he's not actually as sweet and charming as he's acting right now and—

Virgil's eyes slide to his cane and back up to Roman's. Roman follows his gaze, a cute little wrinkle between his brows, before his eyes widen in realization and his mouth drops open.

"O-oh," he stammers, "sorry, I thought—I didn't—"

"It's fine," Virgil mutters, picking up his cane and hunching over it.

"There's—well, I suppose there's no coming back from that." Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Roman's cheeks turn a little pinker—so cute—and scratch the back of his head. "Can I buy you a hot chocolate to make up for it?"

Virgil's head snaps around. He stares at Roman. "What?"

"As an apology. I'll even make sure they put extra whipped cream on it."

He vaguely hears himself say something about sprinkles and then Roman's grinning again and sliding from the bench and vanishing into the crowd. Part of Virgil wants to immediately get up and run after him, but his hands are still wrapped around his cane and all he can do is hope to God that Roman wasn't some hallucination or fantasy and there really is a cute guy going to but him apology hot chocolate.

Five minutes pass.

Ten.

Fifteen.

No sign of Roman.

Virgil checks his phone and sees nothing—no text messages from his friends, no alarm, nothing except the battery he really should have charged before leaving the house and he now has to use extremely sparingly. The sinking feeling in his stomach is back; maybe Roman just wanted a quick and easy exit away from the pathetic whelp with the cane, or maybe he realized that there was something better he could be doing. He wouldn't blame him, not really. He might call him an ableist asshole the next time—if they ever saw each other again, but—

"Sorry, I'm so sorry," he hears breathlessly, "the line was miles long and then they couldn't find the sprinkles."

He turns, hardly daring to believe it, when he sees a massive cup of still-steaming hot chocolate with a mountain of whipped cream and red and green sprinkles held out toward him. He pries one of his hands from his cane and takes it, looking between it and Roman with disbelief. Roman smiles at him again and nods to the cup.

"Is that enough whip-cream?"

"Yeah," Virgil says faintly, "that's—I don't think I've ever seen this much before."

"Well, you deserve it," Roman says like an asshole because now Virgil has to down like half of it in one go to prevent him from seeing how fucking red he gets at that one little comment and he nearly burns his tongue off for it. "Whoa, whoa! Slow down, no one's gonna take it away from you, don't burn your mouth!"

"Too late."

Roman just chuckles again, like he's fond, like that's something they do, and he leans back against the bench. "Suit yourself, honey."

And now he has to do it again. Honestly.

You could not pay Virgil to remember what all they talk about. He doesn't know. He's too busy memorizing the crooked half-smile Roman has when he's vaguely amused by something, or the cute wrinkle that forms when he's thinking or concerned, or the way he keeps reaching out to almost touch Virgil's shoulder before changing his mind last-minute and leaning on the bench instead. He wants to reach back for him so bad but he's trying to hold the hot chocolate and his cane at the same time. His cheeks hurt from smiling and blushing and apparently Roman is really good at saying little things to make that worse. Does he remember what they are? No, because he's not paying attention to shit like that.

They're laughing at something—again, who knows what—when Roman checks his phone and sighs.

"I'm sorry, I have to go. But it was really nice to meet you and sit with you."

"You, uh, you too."

Roman grins and stands. "Happy Holidays, Virgil," he says, and disappears into the crowd.

"You too," he says, way too late, just as he realizes that he didn't even ask for Roman's number.

He looks down at the dregs of the hot chocolate and finds himself smiling slightly.

Maybe being dragged out here wasn't the worst thing after all.

He truly doesn't expect to see Roman ever again, and he may have moped around the house for a few hours upon realizing that, so it takes him by surprise when he ends up sitting in the corner of some mall as his friends go last-minute shopping and a familiar voice calls out.

"Virgil?"

He almost breaks his neck with how fast he turns around. "Roman?"

Roman grins at him, a bag over his arm, before nodding to the other chair at the table. "Do you mind if I join you?"

"Yes! I mean, no. I mean—please sit down."

"That's on me, I should've asked it in a less-annoying-to-answer way." He sets the bag on the floor and tucks his hands into his pockets. "Can I be really honest with you?"

"Sure."

"I wanted to run back to the bench the second I left because I realized I didn't ask you for your number. So, can I do that now before I forget again?"

"Yes," he says, pulling his phone out before Roman's even finished speaking, "yes, absolutely, go ahead. I wanted to do the same thing."

They exchange numbers and Virgil's in the middle of totally not putting a bunch of cute things after Roman's name because he has standards and a reputation—but come on, his last name is literally 'Prince,' what the fuck is he supposed to do?—when Roman calls his name and he looks up, surprised. Roman laughs and holds up his phone.

"Can I take a photo? For your contact?"

"Uh—um—sure?"

"Not that I'd forget what your pretty face looks like," Roman says as he takes a picture in the middle of Virgil blushing like an idiot, "but in case I want a reminder."

This. This is what he didn't remember. That Roman is apparently really good at being charming—literally Prince Charming, this is fake, this isn't real, people like Roman don't actually exist, where are the camera crews and reality show hosts?

"Alright, now that's out of the way…" Roman trails off when he notices that Virgil's still staring at the table, his cheeks bright red. "Hey, you okay?"

"I—uh—you—"

He chuckles. "Still stunnable, I see? Sorry, honey, am I being mean?"

"Okay, well, it's hard to tell how sincere you're being when you're still doing it, so—"

Roman throws his head back and laughs, holding his hands up in surrender. "Okay, you got me."

"Rude."

"You're still smiling at me, though."

"Shut up."

"Your smile is cute."

"Shut up," he mumbles again, trying to hide his face in his sleeves. Unfortunately, that means he's not balancing his cane against the table anymore and it falls to the ground with a loud clatter. A few people walking by turn to look. He goes to pick it back up only to realize Roman's already doing it, leaning it back against the table. "Oh, uh, thanks."

"Of course." He inclines his head toward some of the stores nearby. "You here by yourself?"

"No. Friends scrambling for last-minute stuff."

Roman makes a noise. "I'm not getting a fantastic impression of these friends of yours who drag you places and then leave you."

"They're not so bad, they know to pick places with easy seating so I can take breaks when I need them. Besides, they know better than to take me in certain places."

"Oh? Do tell."

"Apparently there's only so many times I can call out fancy soaps for smelling like ass before I get politely asked to leave, but—"

"Wait, wait, wait," Roman says, sitting forward with a grin, "you gotta tell me everything now, you can't just leave it there."

And so, Virgil dutifully recounts the story of the time some of his friends decided a fun way to spend the afternoon was to go into the fancy soap and other scented things shop to 'browse,' when in reality they were just going to see what the most obscure and specific scent was and mock it mercilessly. They managed to find everything from 'Bourbon-soaked Cotton' to 'Miasma,' which of course prompted Virgil to point out that they really didn't think that one through because miasma was the 'bad air' that supposedly caused things like the Black Death and you probably didn't want a candle called 'Miasma' in your house, which logically led to them all pretending to be plague doctors by wrapping up the complimentary cardboard box/bag things and holding them in front of their faces like plague doctor masks and acting like they'd discovered some new herbs to treat the nefarious diseases with.

Needless to say, they were politely asked to never come back ever again, and they definitely kept pretending to be plague doctors as they were 'escorted from the premises.'

Roman's fully collapsed back into the chair, shaking with laughter, by the time Virgil finishes telling the story. He has to stop and just look at him, because of course Prince Charming is really fucking pretty when he's laughing, and then he looks up at Virgil with that soft smile again and he can literally feel himself melting inside his hoodie.

"Well," he says through the last of the laughter, "I can see why they asked you not to come back."

"Yeah, well…" He shrugs. "Plus, if my friends actually want to get any shopping done, they decided it's best if I don't tag along so they can actually, you know, focus."

"Can't say I blame them, then. I'd be distracted by you too."

"Roman!"

"Okay, okay, I'm done, I promise." He grins. "I think your face might explode, it's so damn red."

'Yeah, well, whose fault is that?"

Roman holds a hand over his chest and bows halfway, like he's actually out of some period drama and wearing a fancy knight's costume instead of a button-down coat and scarf. "My deepest apologies, Virgil."

"Yeah, yeah, knock it off," Virgil grumbles as he chuckles.

They sit there in the quiet for a few more moments as a few groups of kids run by. The lights strung up around the pillars and various levels of the mall sparkle with that faux-snow-wet look as Christmas carols play over the speakers, Virgil taps his fingers absentmindedly to the beat, watching an ad play inside one of the stores.

"Okay, I have a potentially rude question that you can totally tell me to shut up for."

Part of Virgil immediately raises its hackles, but he turns to look at him. "Okay?"

Roman nods to his cane. "Where did you get your cane? My great-aunt uses one and she's been complaining about how boring her current one is for like, as long as I can remember, and yours is sick as hell."

It is pretty cool—it has this purple holo body and Virgil's stuck all sorts of stickers to it and the base is really nice and it's got an adjustable length too. "I can text you the name of the place?"

"Yeah, that'd be great, thank you."

He sends it off and puts his phone on the table. "That wasn't a rude question, by the way. That was fine."

Roman's shoulders visibly slump. "Okay, great, I wasn't—I really wasn't sure. I don't—sorry."

Virgil's eyes widen slightly as Roman starts to…fluster?

"I don't know a lot of people who use mobility aids on the regular and so I don't…really know what sort of things are appropriate to ask."

"You're fine," he says, still a little bemused, "you're doing great."

But then Roman smiles at him all soft again and he has to look away and cough before he starts getting all red again.

"Besides, you're right. My cane is sick as hell and it deserves compliments."

"It's definitely the coolest one I've ever seen. How did you get the stickers to stay so well?"

"There's this Etsy seller who specifically made them to go on mobility aids—she has forearm crutches and hers are decked out with cool shit, so I bought a couple for mine just to try them out and then, well, I couldn't stop."

"Could you send me the name of that place too? My aunt might want some."

"Sure, yeah, give me a moment to find it."

As he looks through his phone, he catches sight of Roman watching him. Not in a creepy way, he's just doing that fond thing where he's got his head slightly tilted and he's still smiling like he's just happy to be here with Virgil and he needs to stop thinking about it right now before his ears start going bright red too.

"There. Sent."

"Thanks, Virgil." He checks his phone just to make sure he's gotten it before he stands up. "I'd love to sit here all day with you, but I do have to run."

"Oh. Okay."

"I'll text you, okay? If you're not—I mean, if you don't have plans, I'd really like to see you again."

"Yeah," he says, grinning like an idiot, "I'd like that too."

He's still staring off in the direction Roman went when his friends come to tell him that they may have gotten kicked out of another store.

Prince Charming: I have another potentially rude question.

Virgil tries not to grin when he sees Roman's text. He knows better than that. Absolutely not.

He fails.

Me: what's up

Prince Charming: How far of a walk is too long of a walk before you need a break?

Me: walking is actually fine it's standing that makes me want to die

Me: i mean i'm not trying to hike a mountain

Prince Charming: No, I suppose that makes sense.

Me: why?

Prince Charming: One of my favorite things to do this time of year is go to the Tadford Park Conservatory. They have this really cool thing they do to get all festive and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me? They have places to sit on the way and it's basically a greenhouse so we don't need to lug big heavy coats around.

Virgil quickly looks up 'Tadford Park Conservatory' and scrolls through the pictures of the plants and decorations. Honestly, it looks stunning. He's about to say as much when he gets another text,

Prince Charming: And I have a car so I could pick you up and we could drive.

Me: that sounds really amazing when do you want to go?

Prince Charming: Are you free tomorrow?

Me: sure am

Prince Charming: Can I pick you up at 9?

Me: absolutely see you then

Prince Charming: Perfect :)

Only after Virgil's put the phone down and gone back to what he was doing does he realize he has no idea whether this is supposed to be a date or not.

Is it? No, Roman would've said. Right? That seems like something you'd say. You'd be like: 'hey, I want to do this thing with you as a date.' Or 'hey, I want to take you out and I thought we could do this.' Something like that. Something that puts a big and flashy 'this is a date' sign on it. Roman didn't do that. And Roman seems like the person who would do that. Right? Maybe Virgil should ask. That was reasonable, to ask if something was a dare. But then what if Roman hadn't intended for it to be a date? Then it would get really awkward and Virgil would have to backtrack and then Roman might offer to make it a date out of pity and then it would be even more awkward and Virgil wouldn't actually get to enjoy anything they did because he'd be too busy thinking about how awkward it was and then it would be ruined and—

No. He's just gonna act like he's going to do something fun with a friend. He does that all the time.

Just so happens that Roman's Roman.

It's gonna be fine.

So fine.

He really is so fine—okay, that's enough of that.

He definitely stresses over what he's wearing for way too long before he gets a knock on his door and he just throws a coat over it before he can overthink it and goes to meet Roman. Roman opens his car door for him like he's really some prince that crawled out of a storybook and it doesn't even feel like he's doing it out of pity, like he'd do it even if Virgil didn't have a cane, which is another thing to fret about as Roman drives them to the conservatory. As they walk inside, Virgil goes fumbling for his wallet only for Roman to reveal that he's already gotten their tickets, scanning the code at the front and going over to the coat closet.

"How much do I owe you?"

"Oh, it's on me." Roman hangs up his coat and huffs a laugh when he sees the way Virgil's staring at him. "What's that for?"

"No, really, I saw those ticket prices, there's no way—"

"My mom has a membership, we basically got in for free. It's okay, honey, you don't have to worry about it."

Virgil mumbles something about pet names being unfair as Roman chuckles and they start walking toward the doors. A wave of warm air washes over them as they step through and Virgil's eyes widen as he looks around at the plants and decorations hanging from the ceiling. It's like he's stepped into some alternate reality, trees curling up and over him in a green ceiling as vibrant flowers bloom impossibly bright, catching the glistening light as the giant ornaments overhead twist and turn in the faint breeze. The faint smell of freshly watered plants mixes with the pine and gingerbread from the lobby as they start walking and he can't pay attention to where he's going because every few seconds, he sees something else incredible. Bright blue flowers. A tree with bark like peeling parchment. A crawling vine straight out of a fairytale book. Roman keeps him as much on the path and out of the crowd as possible and he can't even spare the attention to thank him.

"It's beautiful," he manages as they near another door, "it's so pretty, Roman."

"Yes, it is."

"If you're looking at me while you say that, I swear to God—" Roman pushes open another door and they start into a room filled with flowering trees— "holy shit."

Roman chuckles and guides them to a bench underneath one of them. "Do you want to sit for a second or keep going?"

"How close is the next bench after this one?"

"Two rooms down, I think."

"I can make it until there."

They walk through a room of twisting and turning jungle trees, ferns and other smaller plants hiding between the leaves. They pass a pond of koi fish swimming underneath a massive tree. The room with the bench has a long, clear pool in its center, flanked by paths through what look to be walls of moss and other ferns, a waterfall at the far end. Roman walks them carefully over one of the paths to a bench tucked into a little alcove, through which they can see the pool and the bright green foliage on the other side. Virgil sits down, still spellbound at the room.

"I'd ask if you were enjoying yourself," comes Roman's voice, "but I think I know the answer."

"It's like I've been transported to some fantasy realm, this is so cool. How have I never known this existed?"

"A lot of people don't come here. Which is good because I'm selfish and I really like when there's not a lot of crowds." Roman sits back, one leg slung over the other. "But—I don't know why. Maybe it's because they think plants are boring or something."

"They're fucking wrong."

He chuckles. "Yeah, I think so too. I'm glad you like it."

"Okay, it's my turn to ask a potentially rude question."

"Shoot."

"Why here? I mean, it's gorgeous, and the decorations really help, but it's not—a conservatory isn't really what I think of when I think of festive stuff."

Roman sighs. Ripples from the waterfall spread out along the pool's surface. "I don't know, really. I think it's just because holidays are really hectic for me and this place…never really feels like that. It's always sort of like this, calm, serene. Quiet. I think…I think I just really like that."

Virgil turns at the wistful note in Roman's voice, watching him send one of those soft smiles at the pool. The greenery around them almost seems to curve, like the petals of a flower around its center. Roman…fits here, like he really is some prince that even nature itself can't help but adore.

…fuck, he's so far gone.

He loses track of time as they sit there, just enjoying the still quiet of the room. The ferns have their own smell, soft and sweet, that mixes with the crisp dampness of the water as some misters turn on to water the plants. He holds his hand out in front of one, just for a second, watching the droplets catch on his hand and sparkle as he turns them in the light. Roman's side presses against his after a while and he finds himself lost slightly to the solid comfort of it. And then, well, then that's all he thinks about for a while.

At least until his stomach growls and ruins the moment.

"Come on," Roman chuckles, "the food's not far from here."

The cafe bustles with energy after being in that quiet room for so long, and Virgil quickly finds a table to sit at while Roman goes and gets the food. He does have to slightly threaten Roman into letting him pay for their lunch, but Roman concedes after a while and goes to stand in line. He pulls out his phone to send the few pictures he remembered to take to the group chat, when suddenly—

"Shame on you, young man!"

Virgil startles so badly that he almost drops his phone. He looks up to see a stern older woman glaring at him, hands on her hips. "Uh—"

"How dare you?" she says again, wagging her finger at him. "You go and find whoever you stole that from and give it back right this instant!"

"I don't—what—what are you talking about?"

"What do you mean, what am I talking about?" She points at his cane. "That does not belong to you! You're old enough to know better, especially to steal something like that, your parents would be so disappointed in you!"

Oh. Oh, fuck, it's one of these. Disgust and embarrassment crawl up his throat as a few people at the surrounding tables start to look over. He swallows. "Actually, that is mine."

The woman scoffs. "What do you think, I was born yesterday?"

"That is my cane," he says, voice a bit firmer. "I bought it with my money, I use it for my disability. I didn't steal it. It's my cane."

She looks him up and down over the rim of her glasses. "You? You expect me to believe a young person like you uses a cane? What on earth could you possibly need a cane for?"

And really, he should be used to it by now, he's had ableist assholes like this yelling at him for actual years, he shouldn't be this upset over it. But goddamnit, this day was going well. He was having a good time. And now someone is telling him his disability doesn't exist and he should be ashamed for using a mobility aid and he can feel his eyes starting to water even as he struggles for words.

"Excuse me."

Roman. He looks up to see Roman setting a tray with their food on the table, his hand coming to rest on Virgil's shoulder.

"Would you like to explain why you're bothering someone you don't know?"

The woman splutters. "I—well, I—"

"It is none of your business what someone else does to take care of themselves," Roman says, cutting her off firmly, "you do not get to make assumptions about someone else's life and act as though you know the truth. No one would be so rude as to insist you don't need glasses, would they?"

"People your age don't need canes!"

"And people your age should know to treat people better." Roman gives her a look that's so profoundly disappointed that he can see a few people wince in sympathy. "This time of year is supposed to be about sharing compassion and kindness. I hope for your sake you learn that this season."

He turns his back pointedly and the woman shuffles off without another word.

"Are you okay?" Roman asks, his voice so soft and worried that it almost gives Virgil whiplash. "I'm so sorry that happened."

"It's not your fault," he mumbles, "and…thank you."

"You don't need to thank me for being a decent person, honey."

"Yeah, well…" Roman's hand is still on his shoulder and he dares to lean into it a little. "Still. Thanks."

Roman still looks a little worried but he pushes Virgil's food towards him. "Here. Eat."

"Thanks."

Roman doesn't sit across from him. He sits next to him and after a moment, lets his leg rest against Virgil's. Virgil almost chokes on his sandwich but quickly shakes his head when Roman looks up, concerned.

"Is this alright?"

"Yeah, it's…more than alright." Virgil smiles. "You're really great, Roman."

Nice one, asshole.

"So are you." After a moment, his smile widens. "When we're finished, do you want to go see the desert room? There's a bench in there too."

"Cactuses?"

"I think it's technically cacti, but yes."

"Don't make me look up grammar while I'm eating."

"Wouldn't dream of it."

Virgil gets another text the night before he's supposed to get lunch with Roman. He peers at his phone, sitting up from his horrible position on the couch.

Prince Charming: Hey, I'm sorry to do this so last minute, but my boss really wants me to come in in the morning tomorrow. I don't think I'll be able to come pick you up to go to the place.

Me: is there public that can get me there?

Prince Charming: You'd have to walk a fair ways and it's not like it's nice outside right now.

Virgil glances at the snowstorm outside and winces at the thought of all the ice. He's about to figure out a way to propose a rain check—or snow check—without upsetting either of them when his phone buzzes again.

Prince Charming: I mean, if it's not too much of an ask, I could always pick you up before I go into work and you could come with me? I don't think it'd be longer than a few hours at the most and then we could just go straight there afterwards.

Me: what do you mean come to work with you?

Prince Charming: I could pick you up and drive us both to the arena. There are the offices and stuff upstairs where you could sit and work or do something until I'm done then we could go?

Me: would your boss care that there's just some random person with you?

Prince Charming: You're not just some random person, Virgil. And no, he won't care.

Virgil's too caught up in the fact that Roman said he's not just some random person to really think about it when he sends back a 'yes,' nor did he really read the part where Roman mentioned an arena.

But sure enough, that's what they pull up to the next morning and Virgil's left blinking at the giant sign that says 'Stadium Entrance' as they get out of the car. He glances at Roman, who looks truly nonplussed as he leads the way to the door. He waves at the person at the front—Virgil waves too on instinct—and nods toward the elevator.

"I told them I was bringing someone, you can go on up and find somewhere to sit, if you want. I can come with too if you'd rather?"

"You, uh, you can go. I think I can find something."

"If anyone tries to give you shit, just say you're with me, okay?"

He huffs a laugh. "What, are you some kind of famous person?"

Roman laughs too, but it comes out a bit too forced. "Something like that."

And before he can ask what the fuck that means, Roman's walking off down another hallway and Virgil just shrugs and goes to find somewhere to sit. The elevator takes him up to something that looks almost like an office and he wanders into an open room, sitting down and shooting off a text to let Roman know where he is. He gets a quick acknowledgment and that he'll let him know when he's done. He switches over to the thing he'd been looking at in the car and loses himself quickly in the mindless scroll of the Internet.

He's not sure how much time passes before he glances around for an outlet to charge his phone. He drags a chair over to the corner and plugs in the charger, looking around as he waits for the little beep that lets him know it's working. There's a set of screens on the far wall, each showing a different camera, he presumes. One of them looks out at a loading dock, one of them shows a skating rink where someone's training, one of them shows another empty rink, and the last one has another door—probably a secondary exit of some kind. He shrugs and looks back at his phone.

"Excuse me?"

He looks up to see a man with glasses and a big coffee mug with cat whiskers peering through the door. "Uh, hi?"

"Are you supposed to be in here?"

"I, um, I'm with Roman? He said I could find somewhere up here to sit?"

"Oh, you must be Virgil!" Virgil blinks as the man grins and comes over to offer his hand. "I'm Patton, nice to meet you."

"Hi, Patton. Uh—you are? Sorry."

"No, it's fine, you're all good. I'm one of the event coordinators for the arena. Roman talks about you all the time, I was wondering if we'd ever get to meet you."

"Yeah, I, uh…nice to meet you too." Virgil shuffles a bit. "You, uh, have you worked with Roman for long?"

"Sort of—I don't work with Roman directly, but I see him when he's booked here. They've decided to train here this year, which is exciting, but he's so busy all the time." Patton grins, crossing his arms. "But I guess you know that, huh?"

"Yeah, I—wait, you—" he frowns. "What do you mean 'booked here?'"

"For a show or a competition or something." Patton leans down, muttering like they're sharing a secret. "Between you and me, I don't blame you for sitting up here. It gets cold in the rinks, doesn't it?"

"Sorry—can we go back another step?" Virgil shakes his head. "What do you mean, for a show or competition?"

Patton frowns. "For the season."

"What season? Season of what?"

He frowns for another second, before something like exasperation makes him sigh. "Did Roman tell you what he does?"

"No. Not even a little bit."

Patton sighs again and nods to the screens. "That's him, on the camera there."

Virgil turns to look. The only person on the screens is the one skating. Wait—

"That's Roman?"

"Roman Prince, reigning champion," Patton says, coming up behind him as Virgil stares at Roman training on the ice, "I'm not that surprised he didn't tell you, he's surprisingly private about his off-stage life."

Roman skates. Roman is a figure skater. Roman competes at a professional level as a skater. Roman is the fucking reigning champion?

He hears Patton say something about getting back to work but if he needs anything, let him know. He must respond—he hopes it wasn't too rude—but he's too focused on the way Roman is literally fucking dancing on the ice right now. He looks like he's at the Olympics. Shit, has Roman been to the Olympics? Why didn't Roman tell him he skates for a living? Why is he here while Roman is training? And what the fuck did Patton mean about Roman talking about him all the time?

He completely fucking forgets about his phone as he watches Roman skate. Every so often someone else skates up to him—his trainer, probably, even though Roman called him his boss. Shit, Roman really didn't want him to know about this, did he? Is he gonna be mad that Virgil's watching him?

He's really fucking good.

It feels like no time at all before Roman's disappearing from the frame and then he gets a text that he's almost done, coming up to find him, and Virgil's still staring at the screen trying to fit the pieces together that Roman's a professional skater who talks about him to the people he works with.

He doesn't quite manage that by the time Roman's pushing the door open with a breathless smile, his hair slightly messy, and his cheeks glowing from the exercise.

"Hey, sorry about that, but I'm all done, we can…"

He trails off when he notices Virgil staring at the screens, smile fading a bit.

"Right," he says, mostly to himself, "forgot about those."

"You, uh," Virgil mumbles, "so you skate?"

"Yeah. I skate."

There's a moment. Someone down the hall opens a door.

"I'm sure you have questions," Roman says finally, "but can I answer them in the car?"

"Yeah, sure."

Roman's quiet as they go back downstairs, waving to the front desk person again. They get in the car and start driving. Virgil bites his tongue for as long as he can before they finally stop at a red light and he musters his courage.

"Why didn't you tell me you skate?"

He hears Roman sigh. "I didn't mean to keep it a secret from you, it's just…I didn't know how you'd react."

"Did you think I wouldn't think it was a real job, or something?"

"What? No, no, I just—I didn't know if you watched skating or followed it at all or—or if you'd know who I am, or something like that." The light turns green and Roman turns onto the next road. "And then…well, it's not like I know what you do for a living either."

"I'm a systems engineer."

"Oh. That's cool."

"Thanks."

They drive for a few more minutes.

"Patton said you're quiet about your private life," he says, like an asshole, and he wants to take it back as soon as it comes out but Roman's already answering.

"Yeah, well, I'm not famous famous like some people are, but I'm…people know me. And it's not like I want people poking into what I do when I'm not being Roman Prince on the ice. Plus, especially with it being the holidays…" He trails off and sighs again. "Sorry, I don't want to bring the mood down."

"You're not bringing the mood down, you're just talking. You can tell me if you want to."

They stop at another red light and Roman looks at him. Really looks at him, like he's trying to figure out if Virgil's telling the truth. Which he is, he totally is, and he hopes Roman can see that. He must, or at least decide Virgil's not just asking to be nosy, because he looks away again.

"There are people who are into figure skating all year long and that's great, but they're, like, fans. And I love my fans, really, but I don't—sometimes it gets a bit much, you know?"

"Yeah."

"And then there are people who just like it for the holidays because it's 'festive.' Like, 'oh, let's go ice skating, it's Christmas,' or 'oh, let's go see a skating show because it's winter,' that sort of thing. And then they do it, and then it's done, and they go home and have their actual holidays together, and…"

Something terribly sad enters Roman's voice as they sit in the snow at the light, and Virgil suddenly has the image of a performer's smile fading as the lights go out. And it strikes him how terribly lonely what Roman's describing sounds, like he's just something people check off their lists and then move on with those they actually care about. And how much Patton seemed to understand that of course Roman didn't tell him what he did for a living.

"You want people to want to spend time with you for who you are," he says quietly, "not what you are."

"Yeah," Roman says back, equally soft, "that's it."

He looks down at his cane, spinning it in his hand. "I get that."

"I know you do." Roman reaches out and puts a hand on his shoulder. "I really didn't mean to keep secrets."

"It's fine, I get it. But thank you for telling me."

The light turns green and they start driving again. The silence feels gentler, somehow, Roman even starts humming under his breath. It's that same song that was playing over the speakers when they first met at the park.

Wait a fucking second.

"You asked me to skate."

"Huh?"

"When we met, at the park, you offered to skate with me. Even though you skate for a living and someone might have recognized you."

"What was I supposed to do?" Roman sighs, but this time it's clear he's going for drama. "I was talking to this cute guy and my brain fell out of my ears."

"You—what?"

Roman glances over and chuckles. "You're getting all blushy again, you know."

"I—what—shut up!"

"Did Patton also say I talk about you all the time?"

"Maybe!"

"Well, there you go, cutie. Wha—hey, hey! I'm driving!"

"You'll fucking live, you absolute dick."

But Roman's laughing again and he looks so happy that Virgil can't be mad for very much longer. And, you know, he is driving, and he would like to make it to the restaurant in one piece.

"You're paying for lunch, you know."

"Whatever you say, cutie."

"If you dragged me all the way out here for nothing, I swear to God—"

"We're almost there, I promise, I promise."

Virgil groans, slumping down in the car seat at Roman makes yet another turn. Roman texted him two hours ago asking if he was free and could they go somewhere really quickly, he promises it's worth it, and Virgil had been too caught up in the sappy floaty feeling of Roman's excitement to say no, and now here they are, driving who the fuck knows where, in the dark, up a path that barely has any lights.

"How do you even know we're not getting lost?"

"We're not lost, I know exactly where we are."

"So if I got out a paper map and said 'where are we,' you could point to it and you'd be right?"

"Well, I'd be more impressed that you had a paper map with this exact area that you could be accurate about—"

"What, you don't think I've got maps?"

"I'd never doubt your map capabilities, Virgil."

"You'd better not, the atlas my mom got me for fourth grade would be so disappointed at you when I throw it at your head."

"I'm sorry, you're the one throwing it and it's going to be disappointed at me?"

"Yeah, 'cause you did something so outrageous it's made me need to throw it."

Roman chuckles as he makes another turn—are they going up a hill or something? "My mistake. Really, we are almost there."

"Uh-huh."

"What, you don't believe me?"

"I believe you about as much as I did the last ten times you've said it."

"I have not said it ten times!"

"No, you've said it way more than ten times."

"Well, if you keep asking 'are we there yet,' I'm going to keep answering you."

"Are we there yet?"

"Almost."

"Are we there y—" Roman reaches over and pushes his shoulder lightly. "Okay, okay, I'll knock it off."

"Look, see that sign?"

Virgil sits up and peers through the windshield at the sign that reads 'Observation Point.' "Yeah."

"That's where we're going."

"Fine, fine, you're not a liar."

"Thank you."

Sure enough, it really is only a few more moments before Roman's pulling the car out onto a large flat overlook and putting it in park. Virgil looks around, trying to figure out what exactly they're doing all the way out here and why Roman was so insistent that they go tonight, when Roman turns the headlights off. "Whoa, whoa, what are you doing?"

"Relax, I'm keeping the heat on so we don't freeze." He nods out the window. "Look."

"I can't see shit, Roman, look at what?"

"Give your eyes a second to adjust."

He looks, truly not expecting to see anything. It's just blackness, the afterglow of the headlights still burning his retinas out. He squints. There are surprisingly few clouds out tonight, especially considering the winter weather they're supposed to get later this week. He can sort of see something through the gloom, below them, but it's not that clear yet. Slowly, little by little, his eyes adjust and…

"Oh," he says in a rush of breath.

The entire city sprawls out beneath them. Glittering and shimmering houses, buildings, Christmas lights and flashing decorations. The snow sparkles with it, the glow almost a sea of wonder against the inky blue night sky. Reds, greens, blues, purples, far-away inflatables that must be giant but look like nothing more than storybook characters from this high up. Some of the houses closest to them have trees, right out front, others have sleighs and reindeer, even more have snowmen just barely lit by the edges of the shining lights.

It's incredible.

"I didn't think I'd get a chance to see it this year," Roman says, as if he's afraid to break the silence, "but then it cleared up and I knew it'd be perfect."

Virgil can't say anything. He's too spellbound.

"Thank you for coming with me."

"Thank you for asking. This is—holy fuck, Roman, this is so fucking cool."

"I'm glad you like it. I was a bit worried with the roads, sometimes they don't clear them properly, but at least we can sit in the car instead of having to walk or something."

Maybe it's the fact that he's tired, or the surge of sappiness when Roman had said he'd known it'd be perfect and he'd reached out for Virgil, or maybe he's been holding this in since Roman held out that stupid hot chocolate. Whatever it is, Virgil sniffles.

"Whoa, hey, hey," Roman murmurs right away, reaching out for him like the stupidly perfect Prince Charming, "what's wrong, honey? Are you okay? Did I say something wrong?"

"No," Virgil spits through his stupid tears, "no, you did—you did everything right."

"O..kay?"

"You did everything right," he says again, "you—you made sure we could drive so we could just sit in the car and you picked me up so you could drive me instead of making me take the bus and you asked how much walking was too much walking and you stood up for me and you asked me if it was rude before you asked about my cane and you got me hot chocolate and you're—you're—"

An actual sob chokes out of his mouth and he claps a hand over it, only for Roman to let out a noise of dismay and coaxes his hand away, holding it tightly. He leans over the console and tenderly wipes away one of Virgil's tears and it's too soft and gentle and perfect—

"You did everything right," Virgil manages, not daring to look at Roman's concerned face, "you—you're too sweet."

Roman lets out the softest noise and strokes his cheek again. "You're worth being sweet to, honey."

"Shut up, you're gonna make me cry more."

"That's okay, honey, you can cry. That's—it's a good cry, right?"

"Yeah, you bastard, it's a good cry." He sniffles. "Now shut up."

"Can I shut up and hug you?"

"Yes."

And goddamnit, an awkward hug where Roman has to lean halfway out of his seat over the console to get his arms around him should not feel so warm and safe and comforting, but fuck it, Virgil's already crying into his shoulder anyway, he might as well fully commit to it. If Roman has a problem with contorting himself to hug a sobbing mess, he doesn't say anything about it. No, he just keeps humming and shushing Virgil with sweet nonsense, his hand alternating between carding through his hair and stroking his cheek. It's not fair, and Virgil's not giving it up for anything.

Eventually, his tears run dry and he scrubs his nose with his sleeve as Roman sits back down, keeping one hand on the back of his neck. Fingers play with the hair right above his collar. He sniffles.

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize, honey, it's okay. You didn't do anything wrong."

"I just cried all over you."

"Oh no," Roman says dryly, "however will I survive such a terrible fate?"

"Yeah, yeah, shut up."

Roman chuckles, fingers still scratching lightly at Virgil's scalp. "Really, Virgil, it's alright. I'm just glad I'm not the only one getting all sappy."

If he were less emotionally drained from crying, or if Roman's fingers were less good at making him melt into a boneless little puddle, he might have had a retort for that. Instead, he just looks out over the lights in all their sparkling glory and sighs, leaning into the touch. Roman starts humming again and there they sit, enjoying the night.

"If I fall asleep," he mumbles, "will you wake me up?"

"If you fall asleep, I'll drive you home and then wake you up so we can get you to bed."

"Fine."

He tries. He tries doggedly to stay awake, to not miss a moment of this, of the lights, the night, of Roman and his stupid Prince-Charming self. But he must fall asleep, or at least get close to it, because the fingers in his hair slow, and stop. Roman chuckles softly, and the car starts, and they drive through the night. And for a moment, as they leave behind the sea of lights, he thinks that Roman lied to him—they can't be in a car, just driving home.

Not when it feels like they're flying.

+1.

It's really a surprise that he managed to hold it back for this long, but it was eventually going to happen.

The swirling mist of a monster that is his anxiety has been biding its time, waiting for him to let his guard down to spring out and warp him up in its stupid fucking mess and make him stop appreciating everything that's going on and make it just the fucking worst.

Roman Prince is too perfect, it decides. There's no way this all gets to happen to him and there's no catch. The image of the hidden cameras and the reality show crew comes back; when do they jump out and say it's all fake? When is the illusion going to shatter?

Maybe he's just biding his time and trying to find a way to exit Virgil's life and never return. Maybe he has a partner, or something, and he really thinks Virgil's just his friend. Maybe he's not even gay. Maybe Virgil's just a fling and he's going to leave as soon as New Year's is over. Maybe he's going to get swept up in his life of professional figure skating again and Virgil will be stuck with chasing down his shows and competitions to even see him ever again. Maybe they're going to become the friends that aren't really friends but they still have each other's number for some reason.

Maybe—

"You're thinking too loudly," Roman murmurs from where his face is tucked near the crook of Virgil's shoulder, reaching out to pause the movie, "are you okay?"

Virgil sighs, leaning back into Roman's embrace. He'd surprised him by coming over—well, no, he'd texted to ask if Virgil would mind if he came over, but that was out of nowhere, so it counted—and then they'd ordered way too much food and put on a Christmas movie, and Virgil had pushed for The Nightmare Before Christmas and Roman hadn't protested. And then Roman had asked if he could cuddle him—"Because it's a crime to leave you sitting there on the couch, in the dark, like you have no one to cuddle you, honey."—and then he'd wrapped his arms around him and it'd been all warm and soft and cozy and Virgil hadn't wanted to move to get his hot chocolate from the coffee table that probably wasn't even hot anymore—

"You're still drifting." Roman sits up, pulling away. "Is everything okay?"

Virgil bites his lip. "It's dumb."

"I like dumb things."

"You'll laugh."

"Only if you say something funny."

"You'll be mad," he says in a very quiet voice, and he feels Roman stutter above him. He squeezes his eyes shut.

"Oh, honey," he hears distantly, before the couch is shifting under him and there are warm hands carefully cupping his face. "Will you look at me, please?"

He doesn't want to. He wants to stay here in the dark with Roman touching him like he's something precious, but then Roman's calling his name and fuck it, he can't disappoint Roman, so he opens his eyes. Roman smiles at him with that same fucking soft smile that's been taking him out at the knees since day one, and he can tell he's pouting before Roman even says anything.

"I'm not going to be mad," he says with all the patience in the world, "if something's bothering you, I want to know about it. Please, tell me?"

"You're not leaving, right?"

As soon as the words leave his mouth and Roman scrunches up his face in confusion, he wants to run away and hide under all his blankets and never speak to anyone again.

"Never mind. Forget it."

"What do you mean, am I leaving?"

"I said forget it. See? Dumb. Never mind."

"Don't do that," Roman chides gently, pulling his focus back, "don't hide from me. What did you mean?"

Virgil sighs, trying to not lose himself in how warm Roman's hands are. "It's just—everyone leaves. Sort of. I know—I mean I get it. I get how these things go. You—it's the holidays, right? You get all the emotions and then New Year's happens and you move on. I know that happens, I know that's how it works sometimes, and it's fine, I get it, but—"

"Slow down." He sits up. "Why do you think I'm leaving?"

Fuck it. "Because you're too perfect, okay? You—you're sweet and kind and you help me with everything and you're fun to be around and you're funny and you're smart and—and you're really fucking attractive, and I don't—" he takes a deep breath— "I don't know what to do about it anymore, okay?"

Roman's quiet. He's quiet for a long moment. Then his hands leave Virgil's face and he cringes, curling up in on himself—he's done it, he's made Roman leave, it's his fault, it's all his fault, they didn't even make it to New Year's—

His eyes fly open in shock when Roman suddenly hugs him tightly. His breath leaves him in a rush as Roman squeezes, holding him with such a fierce strength that he just ends up going limp in his hold.

"I don't know," Roman growls, "what sort of absolute assholes have been so cruel to you that you think everyone is just going to leave, but they'd better fucking hope we never meet."

"Wh—what?"

"You're fucking perfect too, Virgil. You're smart and you make me laugh and you're genuinely kind to people and you—you make me feel safe, okay?" He pulls back but somehow this is worse because now they're just staring into each other's eyes. "You're amazing. Why the hell would I want to leave you?"

"I—um—well—"

"I don't want to leave," Roman confesses, and fuck, Virgil can hear his heart breaking, "do…you don't want me to leave, do you?"

"No," he says in a rush, "no, I don't want you to leave."

"Great, 'cause I wanna be stuck with you until you're sick of me."

"I'm not gonna get sick of you—"

"Well, I'm not gonna get sick of you either—"

"Great!"

And then he's the one leaning forward to knock Roman over with a hug. Roman wraps his arms just as tightly around him and suddenly there's a kiss being pressed to his head.

Everything stops.

"Shit," Roman breathes, and it curls around his ear, "I…I meant to ask if that was okay before I did it, I'm sorry, I—"

But Virgil's already turned and pressed a kiss of his own to Roman's jaw. He feels more than hears Roman's breath stutter, the chest under him jumping as Roman turns to look at him. Like this, their faces are barely a few inches apart, and Roman smells like hot chocolate.

"It's okay," Virgil mumbles into their shared space, "it's…more than okay."

And there Roman goes, curling his mouth up into that fucking soft smile again, and then he's sliding a hand up to cup the back of Virgil's. "So I can kiss you?"

"Yes, you can kiss me."

Fuck, he tastes like hot chocolate too.

"I'm not leaving," Roman whispers against his lips, not bothering to pull away, "I'm not leaving you, baby."

"Fuck."

"No good?"

"Very good," Virgil mumbles, leaning forward again, but then his phone is buzzing and he's pulling back with a curse to make it shut the fuck up. Roman comes up and wraps his arms around him again, hands slowly playing with the hem of his sweater as his chin hooks over his shoulder. "I'm almost done, I promise."

"Am I 'Prince Charming' in your phone?"

"No," Virgil says, like a liar as he throws his phone onto the floor.

"Aww, that's so cute, baby."

"Shut up and kiss me, Princey."

"As you wish," Roman murmurs, and then Virgil doesn't have a chance to think about the fact that he just called Roman 'Princey.'

They don't end up finishing the movie, but Roman says they can watch the rest over breakfast instead.

General Taglist: @frxgprince@potereregina@gattonero17@iamhereforthegayshit@thefingergunsgirl@awkwardandanxiousfander@creative-lampd-liberties@djpurple3@winterswrandomness@sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes@iminyourfandom@bullet-tothefeels@full-of-roman-angst-trash @ask-elsalvador @ramdomthingsfrommymind@demoniccheese83@pattonsandershugs @el-does-photography @princeanxious@firefinch-ember@fandomssaremysoul@im-an-anxious-wreck@crazy-multifandomfangirl @punk-academian-witch@enby-ralsei@unicornssunflowersandstuff@wildhorsewolf @thetruthaboutthesun @stubbornness-and-spite @princedarkandstormv @your-local-fookin-deadmeme @angels-and-dreams@averykedavra @a-ghostlight-for-roman @treasurechestininterweb @cricketanne @queerly-fluid-fan @compactdiscdraws@cecil-but-gayer@i-am-overly-complicated@annytheseal@alias290@tranquil-space-ninja @arxticandy @mychemically-imbalanced-romance@whyiask@crows-ace @emilythezeldafan@frida0043 @ieatspinalcords @snowyfires@cyanide-violence@oonagh2@xxpanic-at-the-everywherexx@rabbitsartcorner @percy-07734@triflingassailantofmyemotions @virgil-sanders-the-gay-emo@cerulean-watermelon@puffed-up-bees@meltheromanstan@joyrose-fandomer@insanitori@mavenmush@justablah65@10paradox10@uhhh-hi-there-i-am-nervous@cutebisexualmess@bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti@ultrageekygirl

#dragonbabbles #sanders sides #roman sanders #virgil sanders #prinxiety #fic

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hoseokhasmyheartxx · 1 year ago

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hiiii steph!!! could i request 25 and 125 and jin? tysm!

Drunken Confessions | KSJ

*Pairing: best friend!Seokjin x gn!reader *Word Count: 1093 *Genre: friends-to-something, fluff, non-idol AU *Warnings: alcohol consumption and some crying are the only warnings i can think of, but regardless, my work is 18+ and MINORS DNI. *Summary: When you go to pick your best friend up from the bar, the last thing you're expecting is a drunken confession. *A/N: jfc i am so sorry this took so long! i have writer's hyperactivity and can barely focus on one fic at a time, let alone multiple. 🤣 i hope you enjoy this!

Prompt from this post!

Main Masterlist

Being woken up at 1:30 AM on a Thursday morning wasn’t exactly your idea of fun.

Being woken up at 1:30 AM on a Thursday morning to go pick up your drunk best friend? Even worse.

You sighed, hanging up the phone and dragging yourself out of bed. Silently cursing Jungkook for enabling him once again, you grabbed your keys and slipped on your shoes before heading out the door.

The drive to the bar was uneventful and quick. Pulling over to the side of the street and flipping on your hazard lights, you texted Jungkook to tell him to hurry up. Within minutes, you were greeted with the sight of him, Jin’s stumbling making you giggle as they reached your car.

“Sorry, dude. He insisted I call you instead of an Uber,” Jungkook huffed out, dumping Jin into the passenger seat of your car. “Good luck.”

You waved as Jungkook shut the car door, putting the car into drive again as you left the bar. Glancing over at Jin, you laughed as you saw him already passed out, head lolling to the side, mouth agape.

Shaking your head, you drove silently to Jin’s apartment complex. You pulled into his second parking space, turning to face him. Nudging him gently, you shook him awake.

“Hey, sleeping beauty. Get up. We’re here.”

Jin grumbled, struggling to get his seatbelt off. Letting out an exasperated sigh, you reached over to unclick it for him, then went one step farther and pulled the lever to open his car door for him as well. Turning the car off, you walked over to his side of the car and pulled the door open all the way. You watched as he stumbled his way out of your car, almost tripping over his own feet multiple times on the way to his front door. You followed him, wanting to make sure he got to bed without falling and cracking his head open on the tile floor.

He was so drunk that he could barely get his keys out of his pocket without dropping them. Rolling your eyes, you fished around in his back pocket for the keys and silently unlocked his front door. Letting yourself in, you stood to the side as Jin came in after you, kicking his shoes off to the side.

He was unusually quiet today. Even on his drunkest nights, Jin was typically the life of the party. Obnoxious laughter and loud, nonstop talking were his personality. He would never shut up about how much fun he was, or how handsome his face was. He had even drunkenly given himself the nickname WWH, “Worldwide Handsome.” But tonight, something was different.

Grabbing a bottle of water from his kitchen, and Advil from his bathroom, you followed him into his bedroom, where he was seated on the bed. Watching him struggle to unbutton his shirt was comical at first, but after multiple failed attempts, it became painful to watch.

“Here, let me help you,” you offered. Sitting down next to him, you reached over and began undoing the buttons of his shirt. Your fingers worked quickly, wanting to get home so you could get back to sleep. Finishing the buttons, you patted his chest and stood again, watching as he sat, still abnormally quiet.

You handed him the Advil and water, hoping he wouldn’t wake up hungover, even though he rightly deserved it at this point. You watched as he swallowed the pills, his throat bobbing as he drank his water. Sighing, he shakily placed the water bottle down on his nightstand before standing to take his pants off. You hurriedly turned around. The two of you were close, but not that close.

Hearing the mattress squeak, followed by the rustling of his comforter, you knew he was covered, so you turned around again. He just stared at you, not saying anything. Jin was tall, with broad shoulders that engulfed you every time he hugged you. But, seeing him huddled up in bed, his comforter pulled up to his chin, he looked so small. His eyes searched yours, a look on them you’d never seen before. Almost like.. sadness. Jin wasn’t one to ever show his emotions, so this threw you.

“Alright, bud. You good? If you are, I'm gonna go,” you said, heading toward the door behind you. You took a few steps before you heard your name called from behind you. You turned back, facing him again.

“It hurts.”

Scrunching your face up in confusion, you closed the distance between the two of you, kneeling on the floor next to his bed, your face level with his.

“Jinnie, what hurts? Are you okay?”

You watched as tears rolled down his cheeks. You cradled his face in your hand, swiping them away with your thumb.

He took a deep breath, calming himself before continuing.

“It hurts loving someone who doesn’t love you.”

You felt your hand drop from his face, your heart along with it. You weren’t positive that he was talking about you, but you had a feeling. Jin had been your best friend for two years, and you’d always hoped that maybe something could happen between you two. But it never had; he’d never given you the slightest hint that it could be possible.

“Who, Jinnie? What are you talking about?”

He shifted onto his back, eyes never leaving yours.

“You, dumbass. I- I love you,” he slurred.

Your heart skipped a beat. Well, more like several beats.

“Jin… you’re drunk,” you reasoned.

“You’re right, I am. But it’s the truth.”

Sighing, you stood, trying to get out of there before you did something stupid, like believe him.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Jin. Get some sleep,” you said, rushing out of his room, out the door to your car. You drove home, holding back tears the whole way.

You tossed and turned all night, unsure when you finally fell asleep. You woke up, feeling even more exhausted than you were before.

Checking your phone, you opened your texts, only to drop your phone directly onto your face upon reading the only message you had.

8:47 AM Jinnie: I meant it. I’m in love with you.

You stared at the ceiling, eyes wide as you digested what you’d just read. Jin had drunkenly told you he was in love with you, which you didn’t believe. But now? He was telling you the same thing, completely sober, and you knew he wasn’t someone who would ever lie about something like this.

Now what?

#bts x reader #jin x reader #seokjin x reader #jin fic #jin fanfic #seokjin fic #seokjin fanfic #jin fluff #seokjin fluff #seokjin drabble #jin drabble #thebtswritersclub #btshoneyhive #bts imagines

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drinkingbitterboy · 1 year ago

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alright. i have emotionally recovered from miles posting on instagram this morning, which truly threw off my plan to do a little concert recap bc i was busy yelling at my phone/on tumblr. as you do.

a couple notes:

i don't really do concert photos; literally took a grand total of 4 during the actual show. so sorry, don't have much there!

i did not get a poster :( turns out they ran out before AM even went on stage?? i'm sad, but not too pressed bc really i'd much rather have a good view than wait in the merch line.

here we go!!

so getting into the arena was kind of a shit show lmao. we rolled up around door open and the line stretched 5 city blocks and doubled back on itself; it was mostly organized but asshats loved to pop in when the line got broken up by the streets. took us almost an hour to make it our five blocks and the line behind us was still just as long by then. at least folks waiting by us in line were nice! beyond nice conversation the true highlight was outfit spotting. shoutout to the absolutely dedicated guy who showed up in the full on fwn clown outfit complete with face paint by himself. in this weather! found a couple folks dressed exactly like the car alex (again, why are you wearing a blazer in this weather) and you know. felt real old about it seeing some of the other concert outfits. i'm sorry, not to be judgemental of the tiktok girlies, but holy shit. i managed to out myself once as a weird fan about it bc i had "inside knowledge" aka i saw the ig stories james and davey posted lmao. i'm so sorry i'm incapable of holding it in when i want to correct someone. had a grand time talking to some people in line next to me around my age; one of them even had an old sias shirt from seeing them live back then! good bonding about "hey what have you done since they announced this album?" one guy switched jobs twice, we got married, and the other couple had a baby. jfc.

further highlights include the person who wrote the batphone and cheeseburger notes, a couple other car truck bits i didn't take pics of saying things like "who the fuck are the arctic monkeys", and the true comedy of whoever designed the tickets. big mike wazowski energy

fontaines dc sounded great! a lot of folks around me had no clue who they were, though. so the crowd wasn't too excited overall. also i have no idea who put together the playlist in between sets bc it was nuts.

and then: the big reveal (that i then updated tumblr on)

i'm really surprised the whole set made it! the anticipation before they took the curtain down was absolutely palpable. also, didn't get a picture of it but at one point someone had a giant pole and was trying to poke something right at at the top of the frame of the screen. no idea what that was about but it was hilarious. not pictured: the bonus screens on either side of the stage.

an aside: my partner is fucking hilarious. every time a roadie came on state with an instrument he'd go "i don't think that one is a monkey." he also generally calls them the "monkfys" anyway bc he really latched onto that clip aksdjfs

so this was interesting! they didn't show the body paint symbols at all on any of the screens; instead, they showed this colorful wheel thing.

and then the actual show. oh my word. opening with sculptures was absolutely my dream and honestly i don't have words for what it's like to see alex in person. he's absolutely captivating. hypnotizing. one of the most amazing things is watching how he proceeds through the show--how he goes from suave and put together with his choreographed arm movements for emphasis and his little things like the little bubble pop in that song. and then he starts to loosen up (along with his hair), we get the silly dramatic theatre kid during cornerstone and do me a favour, and by the time we hit body paint he's just completely letting loose. even when they played much of the usual setlist and i obviously know the music super well--better than anyone else around me--it was still absolutely thrilling to just be there and listen to the music and sing loudly and jump around until we felt the floorboards creak. they felt really high energy last night! turns out coming off of a break is good for them!

related, getting to watch the transformation into the poofy lion hair in real life is incredible.

i must admit, i am not immune to things like alex waving in our general direction to the crowd and walking over to our side of the stage and all of the charming bits. just can't help it.

otherwise, the only other person i could consistently see was nick - we were standing stage right, maybe 15 yards back? so you know. gorgeous as always. i'm sure jamie was wonderful also in his insane leather jacket -- didn't see him at all lol. i managed to get a very convenient window to center stage so i actually saw alex a decent amount. worked out well because i couldn't actually see the screens super well. i'm short. here's the only two pictures i actually took of the band, right at the beginning:

and now for the rest of the setlist -- we all know they played a lot of the usual suspects. as expected, much of the crowd was pretty young and very invested in only AM and the hype songs. i didn't mind; at least i wasn't the only person screaming for perfect sense (weren't a lot of us, i was the only one in my general area, but that's alright. i don't care.) my spouse was entertained by the person next to us who looked up the spotify set playlist in between every song; he was like "why look it up? if you don't know the songs well enough to identify by intro then how is the list supposed to help?" anyway, holy shit when is snap getting out of the playlist? and yet even though i was not thrilled by it it was still so fun to sing along.

4 out of 5 had a really funny bit at the end while he was just kinda ad libbing lines. "four stars out of five, not quite there yet, but almosttttt." teddy picker and view from the afternoon were absolutely fantastic, too. and then we get the basic AM bits again, though turns out the crowd was also really hype for fluorescent adolescent. 10/10

i was so goddamn loud for perfect sense. shoutout to the spouse again for only knowing that song bc i learned to play it and then played it constantly bc i wanted to manifest it aksjdflaskdj

he was constantly saying "very nice. very nice. very good" in between songs, which was adorable. "hope you're having a lovely evening, folks." as my partner put it: "very good. that's him like yes, i've met my crowd interaction quota for the night"

and then of course we brought out the drama for do me a favour and cornerstone. i cracked up that there were already gifs of the "forcing a smile" bit by the time i got home.

mirrorball started with alex conducting the stings again. i love it so much. also makes my musician ass miss performing lmao. but really, i can't get over how good mirrorball is. it's so dramatic, so emotional, then the actual mirrorball reveal??? i cried. it's insane. it's beautiful. it's honestly indescribable. i generally don't like people filming a lot or taking tons of pictures but you know what? mirrorball is an exception. holy mother of god.

and then 505!! i know i mentioned this earlier but really??? the mirrorball is only lit up like this for 505 and then they pull it back up?? there better be a mirrorball for me, he says, then we pull it down for the very miles song, and then they get rid of it???????? i had some thoughts.

our end of the stage got a bit distracted during do i wanna know bc we had someone go down in the crowd and had to call someone over to help. good news is that they were pretty close to the wall/barrier so it was easy to make space. even so, i realy can't get over how good that guitar sounds.

and then body paint. we've all seen videos of the extended outro and really, truly, it's just a life-altering experience to watch it life. it sounded incredible, it looked incredible with the rainbow lights, everyone looked like they were having a blast. i am a little biased bc i'm so attached to that song i'm getting tattoos about it on monday lmao. but man. not over it.

and finally the encore. ONE POINT PERSPECTIVE?????? i was NOT expecting it and absolutely lost my shit. unfortunately at this point bc we did some shifting around i no longer had a good view of anything. so it goes.

dancefloor, as always, was an absolute jam. bonus points bc now it's forever associated with our wedding. and r u mine had the place going nuts bc you know, the AM only folks, but really, i am also not immune to how hard that song goes.

all in all, that concert was absolutely incredible. i had an absolute BLAST and it was such a joy. i loved getting to be loud and truly did not care that there were bits where i was the only one who knew all the words. even my partner who is only really a tangential am fan had a really good time. they sounded amazing. i'm absolutely still on a high from it. hopefully the transition to a smaller venue again after the huge stadium tour was nice for the band, too!

and now time for some more coffee.

#my show #if you actually read this thank you!

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sound0ut · 3 months ago

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Nine people I’d like to get to know better

I’ve never done a post like this before, so be gentle, y’all. Thanks for the tag, @augustjustice!

Last song I listened to:

All My Exes Live In Vortexes by Rosie Tucker. Highly recommended if you need a way to vent your existential angst about living in the Anthropocene.

Currently watching/reading:

Currently watching season 2 of The Bear. I know I’m late to this one but as someone who used to work in a kitchen and had some of the most stressful days of her life there, it took me a while to feel ready. It’s really well-done, both in terms of writing and acting, but jfc it’s triggering for me sometimes.

Currently reading a bunch of stuff, as always, but what I’ll mention is that I’m in the midst of a reread of Elizabeth Gilbert’s Big Magic, one of the texts I tend to return to when I need a kick in the pants, creatively. Current favorite piece of wisdom from Gilbert (or Seamus Heaney via Gilbert) is this:

“A particularly elegant commentary on this instinct [trust in your creativity] came from Nobel laureate Seamus Heaney, who said that—when one is learning how to write poetry—one should not expect it to be immediately good. The aspiring poet is constantly lowering a bucket only halfway down a well, coming up time and again with nothing but empty air. The frustration is immense. But you must keep doing it, anyway” (148).

Sweet/savory/spicy?: Depends on my mood, but probably savory.

Relationship status: Happily married bi bb ✌️

Current obsessions: I tend to be a person of varied and rotating obsessions, including: finding the perfect early 80s tunes as the soundtrack for my current podfic project, Monster Theory scholarship (ask me about my personal theory about yonic imagery and the gates/monstrous mouths in ST), adding miles to my long ride, getting better at Travis picking, improving my voice acting/narration, writing my silly little stories (and never sharing them b/c 😱).

I have few mutuals on here and have talked to even fewer folks, so apologies if this is out of the blue, but @chaoskiro, @wynnyfryd, @cuips-not-cute, @onirislanding, @teddywesworl, @geddyqueer, @hullomoon, @n0connections, @xiaq I would love to learn more about you if you feel moved to share :) Or from anyone else for that matter, if you want to connect!

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arliedraws · 11 months ago

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Rewatching the PoA movie as I do chores, and I gotta pause while I’m thinking about this.

People who know me even slightly understand that this is my least favorite HP movie. In my opinion, it totally misses the point of the book and tries to simply hit plot points without understand what ties them all together.

If this is YOUR movie and you LOVE IT, this post is NOT for you! Save yourself some grief and don’t click the ‘read more’ below.

Here’s what the film does right:

- Wise/playful Sirius. We get a wink and nice touchy moment with Harry, and I see a glimpse of the Sirius I love here. This is good! The quiet moments with Gary Oldman is Sirius are VERY good. As time goes on, I am much more confident that Oldman would’ve made a very good Sirius given the opportunity. That intimate scene with Harry and Sirius at the end is a good cinematic interpretation of the internal longing Harry expresses to the reader.

Okay, that’s it. That’s all I like.

Nitpicky bits:

- The editing is just. Weird. We see ONE dinner scene with Marge and it seems like Harry just blows up one night (or blows her up lol) as if he’s just got a short fuse. Harry is a quiet person. He watches, he listens, he puts up with shit until he breaks. This scene needed to be longer, it needed to have more tension. We needed to understand the deal between Uncle Vernon and Harry + signing the permission form for Hogsmeade. One way this could have been shot with Harry at the table with everyone and slooooooow down the conversation. Build the tension. Close-ups, shots of Harry trying to pretend he doesn’t hear her. The book scene is very tense because Harry is quiet as they are talking about him as if he’s not there. THEN, he quietly speaks, drawing their attention.

- Don’t get me started on the Firebolt scene.

- Sirius saying when Remus is transforming “OH NO HE DIDN’T TAKE HIS POTION” as if Remus regularly took Wolfsbane back in the day? And then Sirius pleading with Remus not to transform??? Like Sirius, I think you know werewolves don’t work like that.

- I hate the werewolf design. It doesn’t HAVE to look like the wolf in canon (which is nearly indistinguishable from a regular wolf), but damn, it just didn’t do it for me.

- When Harry sees Peter on the Map??? Dude that was so dumb.

- The scene with the animal noises? Why? I don’t care about the other boys in Gryffindor. Show me why the trio are close other than out of loyalty (something that the books honestly miss out on)

- Remus being so upfront with Harry that he knew his parents and then focussing on LILY??? And also, part of what we learn over time in the book is that Remus knew James but refuses to indulge Harry. He keeps all of that secret—the mystery of Remus is completely wasted in this movie. I would have personally played this up in the film. Build him up as the “cool” professor who holds back emotionally. The payoff when he shows up at the end at the Shrieking Shack would be like, “Oh shit! I knew there was something off about him!” when it seems like he’s helping Sirius. Then, he would have to earn back the audience’s trust just like he does with the trio.

- The Aesthetic: this movie relies on aesthetic so much more than “what makes sense narratively.” There is so much winking at the audience by the filmmakers it drives me bonkers. Anytime something weird happens, they’re like, “Haha this weird thing is NORMAL in the wizarding world! Look at how weird it is! But for them! It’s normal!” Like jfc we get it. I know the first two movies are like, “look at how beautiful magic and cool is” but GOD. This is the film where we need magic to be “normalized.” We get it. We’re three films in. This is a magical world. These cheesy, winking-at-the-camera moments aren’t even like…cute or fun. They’re boring and uncreative. “Oh, how about a maid opens a door and a monster screams at her and she’s bland about it.” Like. Is it supposed to be funny? Because…it’s boring.

When you’re focused on Vibes rather than Character, everyone turns into a cheap, bland caricature. The filmmakers do NOT understand who the characters are. Even in Sorcerer’s Stone, Ron is the comic relief but we understand that he is fiercely loyal. In PoA, he is pure comic relief. They don’t even understand Harry. Both his and Ron’s lines are given to Hermione in the Shack scene which is like…why????

But this is the problem. At the heart of every scene, it was as if the filmmakers didn’t understand why the scene was there. In the film, Harry is an angsty teenager and things happen TO him. Oh sure, they want to show that Harry feels something but…we don’t really, as an audience, FEEL it. They TRY to force that emotional tension by rushing events along and then showing Harry crying sometimes and yelling his feelings. yawn, honestly.

- There is SO MUCH SHOUTING in this film. Harry screams about killing Sirius when he hears the Minister/McGonagall/Rosmerta talking about the betrayal. This was so…poorly done. This boy needs to close himself off from his friends and stew in his hatred, not scream about it. We need to be angry with him, not feel sad for him. We need to want to kill Sirius too.

HOW THEY SHOULD’VE DONE THE BETRAYAL EXPLANATION SCENE:

Look, it would’ve been a boring movie scene if they’d done it like the book. This is not an adaptation-friendly book, and I’ll be the first to admit it. BUT. What they could have done was this: use flashbacks and montages. They do it in Sorcerer’s Stone when Hagrid explains how the Potters died and it’s effective—you see Lily panicking, dying, and then you see cute little Harry with a wand in his face. That’s emotional!

This scene in The Three Broomsticks should have been a flashback with voiceover from Fudge/McGonagall/Rosmerta/Hagrid. It should have shown us Sirius and James being best friends at Hogwarts. With them, we could see Peter and Remus (who we wouldn’t know was Lupin). Then, we should have seen Hagrid arguing with Sirius about who gets Harry (the little devil in me wants to hear Sirius’s voice break, but also, we should feel like Sirius is going to harm the baby Harry). Thennnnnnn we should have seen what the Muggle witnesses saw — Peter crying that Sirius betrayed Lily and James, a misleading explosion, and then Sirius laughing. Thennnnn a close-up of Peter’s finger. Back to present.

Why is this effective and why would it build tension? As the audience, we need to be presented with proof that Sirius is a bad guy. We need to understand why this guy’s gotta be caught!

Also, show us how scary Sirius is by reeeaaaallly playing it up with a scene with the Minister in Azkaban—quiet, sinister Sirius please. Again, give us the tension! (Sirius acting all crazy in the wanted posters instead of the book’s slow blinking, empty-eyed prisoner totally misses the mark for me.) Then, show us him sleeping and talking in his sleep.

This would have been effective becaaaaaaause you could have brought back this flashback in the Shrieking Shack scene.

Which brings me to: The Shrieking Shack scene.

The most disappointing part of the film, in my opinion.

This is supposed to be it—the built-up tension (which never actually happens) finally explodes here. But the movie holds no tension so this scene is reduced to a lot of yelling in the movie. And of course Hermione taking everyone’s lines for some reason.

As as audience, we can’t just be scared. We should be angry. Sirius needs to be quiet, softer. He’s lured Harry away from safety by kidnapping his friend. He needs to be grinning, taunting Harry (I mean, he’s not, but it sounds like it). We need to feel like Sirius is just fucking AWFUL. Sirius MUST compare Harry and Ron to James and himself. Stretch this out like a rubber band until it snaps—until Harry snaps. GOD THIS COULD HAVE BEEN SUCH A JUICY SCENE.

The explanation should have been all voiceover—Remus explaining what happened over shots of the Marauders’ time at Hogwarts. Otherwise, it’s weird that we don’t have an explanation of the Marauders…at all??

When Sirius explains what really happened November 1st, we would see shots that the original flashback didn’t show (Peter looking miffed/jealous/“suspicious” behind everyone’s backs, Peter becoming Secret Keeper, a shady glimpse Peter kneeling before a faceless Voldemort or some shit, and then finally—the missing shots from the explosion in the flashback from earlier in the film.) Then, let’s see Sirius wasting away in Azkaban, growing older and older. Give us the EMOTIONAL WEIGHT. Then, Sirius’s voice breaks and we cut back to the present. We see the trio fighting with their own interpretations with close-ups.

(I also wanna see Sirius seeing the photograph of Pettigrew when he’s explaining how he knew Peter was alive.)

Also, also. Peter needs to be the Gollum of this film. Gives us watery eyes, precious. There has to be a reason he isn’t dead, and it’s because he’s so pathetic, no one can kill him. As an audience, we need to be like, “GOD, he is SO PATHETIC and defenseless!” The idea of killing Peter should be like killing a really ugly puppy. Like…ughhhh, I just can’t do it! Show us why Harry saves him. We need to see gross begging, manipulative sobbing, and completely emotionless Sirius and Remus, watching and getting ready to kill him.

Why does the film miss the mark? Because it’s about friendship, and the filmmakers had no idea.

The subplot of the book is seemingly Hermione and Ron being on the outs because of Crookshanks and Scabbers, but like Peter does with the Marauders during the war, Scabbers drives a wedge between the trio. He seems so innocent and we think CROOKSHANKS is the problem, but it’s the quiet spy. (Sure, Hermione was a dick about her cat and if Scabbers hadn’t been Peter, it would’ve been different—I get that. Not excusing Hermione. But stick with me). Up until now, the trio’s friendship hasn’t been tested by personal problems, and now, we see how Harry and Ron respond to a challenging situation with a friend.

Which. I don’t think that’s the subplot. I think this is the crux of this book.

Harry and Ron fail very hard at friendship in this story. They fail Hermione who, while extremely flawed and misguided, has good intentions. Harry treats her with indifference and then ignores her; Ron treats her with outright antagonism. They fail Hagrid miserably when it comes to Buckbeak, and we find out that Hermione has been doing her best to help Hagrid despite being rejected by Harry and Ron. And this is important to the overall situation with Sirius Black because before we find out the truth, we think Sirius was a bad friend.

Okay, let me talk about the Firebolt now because the Firebolt was never really about Sirius.

The Firebolt plot was so crucial to the story that it’s outrageous they cut this out of the movie. (But the filmmakers had no idea PoA was about friendship so I guess whatever.) When Harry loses his Nimbus to the Whomping Willow, he expresses that it “felt like he had lost a friend” so when he gets a new broom that he really wants, he’s willing to sacrifice his true, human friend for it. He rejects Hermione because she told on him to McGonagall to keep him safe—not her best move but honestly, if Sirius had really wanted to kill Harry, it would have been very easy for him.

When you are making an adaptation of a book, you must ask essential questions. What is the POINT of this film? What is the lesson we are showing? Every part of that film should be building up to demonstrate that point. Trying to hit every plot point without knowing why is so lazy. “I want to make a Harry Potter film—but the tone has changed. It’s DARK now. You gotta know—he’s an ANGSTY TEEN!” Yeah, that does nothing for me, dude.

Harry’s willingness to sacrifice himself for his friends in the Shack is supposed to show that he is capable of growth and that friendship/love should come before all else. You need to be able to forgive (Snape subplot/Hermione subplot), and you should be willing to set aside petty quarrels/greed for your friends (Firebolt subplot/Peter subplot). Sure, the plot is that “a murderer breaks out of prison and wants to kill Harry Potter” but it’s not what the film is ABOUT.

If Sorcerer’s Stone is about making friends and building a friendship, Prisoner of Azkaban asks the question, “What happens when the honeymoon is over? What happens when my friends reveal glaring flaws? What happens when those flaws affect ME?”

Anyway, I really tried to give this movie another chance (I’ve seen it about 6-7 times since it came out), and it STILL does not do it for me. I’ve come around to Gary Oldman as Sirius (but not when he’s yelling or hysterical—does he EVER yell in the books?), but that’s it.

#this was unnecessary #but I had to figure out why I can’t stand this movie #and through this poorly written analysis i think i’ve figured it out #finally #they should NOT remake the movies into a show because rowling does not need more $$#but please hbo if you’re gonna do it could you talk to me before you do season 3

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