#find me a better analogy for teenage angst

[dystopiandramaqueen]

Nobody:

Me: guess it’s time to rewatch Murder house. That’s a perfect season of television. This is the best show of all time omg Violet and Tate and Jessica Lange yessssss

[djosephqueery]

Art block's still really really bad so I'm not comfortable posting anything I've doodled recently. Instead I'm gonna ramble at whoever will listen about my witcher au headcanons. This is really long, and mostly just word vomit. Sorry not sorry.

Obviously, I've made Steve analogous with Geralt and Eddie Jaskier. I've seen a couple different interpretations on who would be who, but this is what feels most natural to me.

In my head Nancy is closest paralleled by Yen; they share quite a few narrative themes and are both women I am equal parts in love with and terrified of.

I think Robin most closely fits Triss, except in my version of the story she's the one turning down the prospect of a relationship with Steve. She'd also play a much larger role in his life than Triss did in the show (I've only played a little of the games and haven't read the books, so most of my knowledge is show-based).

And then obviously, because this is a Steddie (and ronance, I'm making it happen) au, it has to diverge from the witcher canon at some point because I don't want endgame stancy. Because I do love a healthy amount of angst though, I am going to keep mostly to canon up through the whole debacle on the mountain. Nancy finds out about the djinn wish and leaves Steve, Steve still gets (unrightfully) pissed at Eddie and leaves him there, everyone's in pain it's great.

But Steve and Nancy don't get back together after that. That's the end of their romantic involvement with each other.

Then the romance with Eddie kicks off after steve breaks the bard out of prison. In the time between the mountain and the prison break Steve's had all his realizations about Eddie (and he's a Witcher, so like it's all tinged with this feeling like he shouldn't get involved, would be better for eddie if he wasn't around, etc etc, which is why he stays away for so long). I'm not, however, making Eddie his bi awakening. Steve's not a teenager/young adult in this au. He's been around. He's known this about himself for a long time, but it's just as inconsequential to him as his attraction to women. It's a fact he knows, but doesn't really matter because he's not destined (in his eyes) for that kind of relationship.

I am torn on how to approach the Child Surprise. Part of me wants to scrap that arc completely and come up with something New.

If I do keep it, then I'm torn on Which kid from the show fits Ciri best. El seems like the obvious choice as far as narrative parallels go- powers she doesn't really understand, her whole life being suddenly upturned and there being insane forces at play that want her for some unknown reason- it's all there. But because we don't get any Steve/El interactions in st it's hard for me to fit her into the Geralt/Ciri dynamic.

Dynamic-wise I think the child should be Max. We see Steve take care of her in the show, and they bicker a little but she trusts him and (ultimately) listens to him. He feels responsible for her in a way that we don't see him feel towards El.

So I'm still undecided on that as of yet.

Robin and Nancy getting together is a lot more amorphous due to the minimal Yen/Triss interactions we get onscreen. But there's plenty of opportunity for that while they're both at Aretuza after Sodden. Nancy having lost her powers, Robin dealing with her own wounds that won't heal, tons of opportunity for bonding over shared trauma and finding a way Forward.

Does Nancy still get tangled up with the Deathless Mother trying to get her magic back? in this au with Robin there with her, would she help? Would this create a divide between Steve and Robin (for a time only, it would Resolve. I'm a stobin lover first and foremost)? So many unanswered questions.

[tlhrfanfic]

[Analogical] Closest to Heaven

DAY TWO @analogicalweek

Prompt: Stars

Read on A03.

Warnings: Angst, Minor Character Death mention, Grief. (Don’t worry though! Super happy ending!)

———————————————–

Virgil ran out of the house through the back door, the arguing echoing even as he slammed the door shut. He wasn’t afraid of his parents. They weren’t scary or mean or anything like that… to him. 

 But to each other… 

 He used the sleeves of his hoodie to wipe away the stress tears that stubbornly continued to fall. He ran and kept running through the streets until he found a park where the lights weren’t as bright and trees framed the open expanse. 

 He sighed, catching his breath before trudging through the grass. 

 Virgil knew he should go home. At some point his parents would be looking for him. 

 But something caught his attention. 

 He wasn’t sure what it was at first but it had definitely been skyward and so he turned his six year old face to the sky and his jaw dropped. 

 At six, he had definitely seen stars before. But the dimmer lighting meant less lights masking the stars and here, in this park, it seemed there were millions of them. He remembered his best friend telling him that once. That there were millions of stars but most of the time they just couldn’t be seen. 

 He had never, ever seen them like this. 

 So clear, so bright. 

 So.

 Many. 

He stared up in awe at the vast number and before he could stop himself, Virgil laid out on the grass and continued to stare skyward.

 I’d give up forever to touch you,

Cause I know that you feel me somehow.

You’re the closest to heaven that I’ll ever be,

And I don’t want to go home right now.

 Virgil fell asleep there on the grass waking a little later as his mother’s voice startled him and, with one last glance at the sky, ran back to her.

 “Mom… Mom, I saw stars! So many stars!”

 “That’s nice, Virgil, but don’t you ever run out like that again. You scared me. Now, let’s get you home. It’s cold out here.”

 Virgil glanced back at the stars, dim now that he was in a more brightly lit area, but for a moment he was certain that one star in particular shone just a little bit brighter, almost sparkling at him. 

 “Mom.. what are stars?”

 “Hmm?” She asked, taking his hand. 

 “Stars… what are they?”

 She glanced at the stars and smiled down at Virgil. 

 “Well… some people say they are burning gas but I like to think they are guardian angels… keeping us safe.”

 Virgil gasped looking back at the shiny star he had found and smiling. 

 »»————　☠　————««

 Virgil sighed as he made his way toward the park. He had been going to this park when he needed space ever since he was a kid. Unfortunately, it had been cleaned up some so more people frequented it which left Virgil annoyed. 

 It’s not your park. You can’t keep people from being here. 

 He was just grateful that the city hadn’t thought to put in more lights. There had been plenty of petitions but the city had far bigger issues it needed the funding for at the moment. 

 Unfortunately, that also meant a lot of other teens came to this specific park when on dates to make out and cuddle. Making a face, Virgil rolled his eyes as he passed one such couple on his way to his favorite spot. 

 He was so happy that no matter when he came, his spot was never touched. He wasn’t sure how it was possible, as it was a prime spot for couples, but no matter what, it was always there. 

 Virgil had nearly reached it when a couple of teens came his way and started to sneer in his direction. 

 “Hey, faggot!” They called. 

 “Wanna suck my dick, pretty boy?”

 “Hey, Emo! Doesn’t look like you’ve managed to kill yourself yet. Why don’t I choke you with my big cock?”

 Virgil hissed lowly and turned toward the three. 

 “You couldn’t handle me, fucktards. But sure, come get a kiss.”

 They recoiled at that and quickly ran off, calling him a freak and using other names he was used to hearing at this point. Honestly, he didn’t get it. It wasn’t like when his parents were kids. Why did so many people still have an issue with gay people? 

 If it wasn’t being gay or goth, they’d just find something else to torment you about, he told himself, sighing. 

 He kept watching them to make sure they weren’t coming back before continuing on. Reaching the spot, Virgil laid out his favorite purple-and-black plaid blanket. Laying out on it, he sighed as he was immersed in a relaxing feeling. 

 Putting his arms behind his neck, Virgil looked skyward and smiled, his eyes instantly finding his favorite star. He wasn’t sure how but it had seemed to grow brighter over the years. Tonight it was especially bright and, for a moment, Virgil allowed himself to believe that it was happy to see him. 

 A giggle caught his attention and he glanced over to see a couple holding each other and such intense emotions in their locked gazes that he could feel from where he was. 

 A groan escaped him and he looked skyward once more. As soon as his eyes met the star once more, it seemed to twinkle in and out for a few seconds. Virgil felt warmth and comfort. 

 Yes, if he just focused on the star—his star—everything would be just fine.

 “I wish you were here… you’d make this… life... all more… bearable.”

 And all I can taste is this moment

And all I can breathe is your life

And sooner or later, it's over

I just don't wanna miss you tonight

 Virgil woke at some point after midnight. Swearing, he hurried to get up, knowing his mom would be worrying. Once he had his stuff gathered, he looked up at the sky once more, smiling. 

 »»————　☠　————««

 Virgil sighed shakily as he pulled the knot of the tie, loosening it. It still felt like a noose around his neck so he took it off completely, tossing it to the ground as he kept walking. 

 He reached his spot… the same spot he had been returning to for most of his life. Unfortunately, this was the first day he had been here that he no longer had the one person in the world he cared for. 

 “Why did you let this happen?” he growled up at the sky, the angry look in his dark eyes seeming to burn at the star. 

 For a moment, it seemed like the star grew dimmer. Almost as if in response to Virgil’s words. He didn’t know why, but it put a sour taste in his mouth and made his insides drop. 

 “You… you’re right…” he said, not sure why he was talking to the star. “You… it’s not your fault… but… my mom… she’s gone.”

 And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming

Or the moment of truth in your lies

When everything feels like the movies

Yeah, you bleed just to know, you're alive

 Virgil suddenly fell to the ground, sobbing as he gripped into the earth beneath his hands. It grounded him and he looked up to see the star shining even more brightly, flickering every few seconds as if it was trying to say something. 

 “I don’t know what you’re saying… I don’t know what you want… maybe I’m crazy and this is selfish… but I want you here… or I want to be where you are…”

 He laughed at himself, bringing a hand up to his eyes to wipe angrily at the still flowing tears. 

 “This is a mistake… I… I don’t think I can keep coming… I’m… I’m sorry… thank you for always being there for me… I won’t forget you.”

 »»————　☠　————««

 Virgil sighed shakily as he took one step onto the sweeping grass of the park. He bit his lip and took another step. 

 You are being ridiculous, V.

 Pushing past his nerves—there was no reason to be nervous—Virgil strode with purpose past the larger lawn area in favor of returning to the spot that had gotten him through his childhood. 

 Reaching it now, Virgil smiled fondly. 

 He saw ghosts of his past. A little kid seeking security. A teenager seeking first love. A new adult seeking comfort. 

 Here he was once again… though this time it had been so much longer since he had been back. 

 Ten whole years, in fact. 

 Now a man of 31 and successful in life—he had gone to school to become a programmer, not that either mattered to him much. 

 Just like he had earlier in life, he sought more. 

 He yearned for a part of him that hadn’t been found. A part that could only be found in another soul. 

 Virgil didn’t believe in soulmates or anything like that. Still, he did believe—for himself, at least—that to be truly complete, he needed that special someone to share his life with. 

 Otherwise, what was it all for?

 Sure, he was comfortable and healthy and relatively happy. None of that was the problem. 

 If he never found someone to share life with, he would be just fine. 

 But that wasn’t what he wanted.

 And in searching for that, it had brought Virgil back to this special and sacred place. Sure, calling it sacred sounded a little dramatic, especially to him, but the feeling was there, just the same. 

 This place was sacred… to him. 

 That was all that mattered. 

 Allowing a little eyeroll and a smirk at his dramatics, Virgil allowed his eyes to finally move skyward. 

 For a moment, Virgil couldn’t find it. His heart beat rose and he felt a rush of dread but then his gaze caught it. 

 The star was a lot dimmer than he remembered but it was the right star. His star. He was sure of it. 

 At first, he felt a little silly. He almost didn’t want to speak but something urged him to, deep inside. 

 He told himself that if he was ever going to find what he needed, he had to make amends. Even if now he knew the star was just burning gas, it didn’t matter. 

 He needed to do this. He had to see it through. 

 “Hey… star… um… it’s Virgil.”

 God, I feel so stupid.

 He pushed past the embarrassment and insecurities and went on. 

 “I… I owe you an apology.”

 He didn’t know why but the star seemed to brighten. He knew it was probably just a trick of the mind but it made him feel better. He hesitated before moving to sit on the ground. Pulling his legs up to him slightly and resting the weight of his upper body on his hands, he leaned back to look at the star. 

 For a moment, he just sat in silence.

 And I don't want the world to see me

'Cause I don't think that they'd understand

 “Look… I’m not sure what to even say and I know you’re not actually some being that can magically hear me or whatever but I still need to say this…” If I’m to ever move on… he finished in his head, too embarrassed to even think it. 

 When everything's made to be broken

I just want you to know who I am.

 “I just… I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for me… everything you are to me… just… thank you. When mom died… I… I blamed you and that wasn’t fair… it wasn’t your fault… it’s just… life’s a dick… but yeah… thank you… for always being there…”

 The star seemed to flicker and Virgil couldn’t help but beam up at it. It was almost as if ten years hadn’t come and gone. 

 He shifted to lay on the ground, his hands behind his head like he used to do as a kid. He sighed and let the comfort and nostalgia blanket him in warmth. He felt safe. He felt hope. 

 Virgil felt in that moment that anything was possible.

 I just want you to know who I am.

 “I wish… I wish you could be… a person… like me. An actual human I could hold and touch. Someone I could love for who and what they are, that could love me for who and what I am…”

 He laughed softly, shaking his head, glancing away.

 I just want you to know who I am.

 “Silly, right?”

 He snorted, looking up as if sharing an inside joke with the star. For a brief moment, he thought he was seeing things. 

 His star was gone. 

 At first he thought he had just misplaced it… or had looked in the wrong place. But no, he knew that star like he knew himself and that included where in the sky it resided. 

 “What the fuck?”

 Virgil got up quickly, staring up at the sky. He then squinted as if that would help him.

 “V-Virgil?”

 Virgil spun on his heels and stared as a very attractive man dressed in slim fit slacks, a navy button down shirt patterned with stars, and rectangular metal framed glasses seemed to glide across the distance between them.

 Virgil felt torn. His first instinct was to challenge the trespasser. He could be a serial killer or something. That feeling, however, was in complete contrast to the overwhelming feeling of familiarity

 Had he gone to school with this guy or something?

 No… I’d never have forgotten someone who looks like him.

 That was true too. Virgil, being gay, found men attractive… that’s how it worked. But he had never been so attracted to anyone as he was to this man. 

 “I don’t know what your game is but uh… I’m not really in a mood to talk… you’re kinda interrupting my er… quiet time…”

 The man tilted his head, looking confused. He then continued his walk toward him until he was standing a few feet away. 

 The feeling of familiarity tripled and he narrowed his eyes slightly. 

 “Did we go to school together or something? I swear I know you but I’ve never seen you before in my life… how’d you know my name? Please don’t be a stalker or something.”

 Again, the man looked confused and also a little concerned. Then something seemed to click with him as his eyes brightened and he smiled.

 “Oh… you don’t recognize me in this form.”

 Virgil’s eyes widened. 

 Of course Mr. Perfect was clinically insane. 

 He sighed but before he could say anything, the man had closed the distance between them. Virgil jumped back. 

 “Personal bubble, dude!”

 The man looked sad and Virgil felt a rush of guilt before remembering the guy was the one acting strange.

 “I apologize… you had just asked me so many times to hold you… I’m afraid I just assumed…”

 Virgil’s eyes widened at that. He quickly looked up at the spot where his star should be. It was as empty as it had been when he first noticed…

 When this man had first shown up. 

 But that was impossible.

 Stars didn’t just become people. 

 “I’m going crazy or I’ve died…”

 The man gave him a concerned look. 

 “I can assure you that you are not dead, Virgil. I also wish you to understand… I did this…” He gestured at his body and bit his lip. “I did this for you.”

 “Oh my fucking God… you are crazy. Stars don’t become people, dude! It doesn’t happen! Stars are gas! Not sentient beings!”

 The man laughed softly and Virgil swore there was an almost twinkling sound to it. Not really what normal laughs sounded like. The man, he realized, also kind of glowed. It was so subtle though that he doubted anyone but him would notice. 

 Still, it couldn’t be… it was impossible. 

 Wasn’t it?

 He slowly moved closer, hoping it wouldn’t bite him in the ass. He’d allow himself a little silliness… if it meant that this was real. 

 Could it really be? Is there any fucking way?

 “I’ve wanted this for so long…” The man said now, just standing there and letting Virgil inspect him. He bit his lip, as if nervous. Could stars feel nervousness?

 Well… he’s… he’s human now…

 He held the other’s gaze. His eyes were brown but almost golden. There was such warmth and comfort there. Slowly, Virgil’s eyes widened. 

 “It is you!”

 Ignoring the fact that this whole situation was feeling a bit too much like a Disney movie, Virgil threw his arms around the man. 

 “You’re here… you’re actually here… I can’t believe it… I don’t even give a fuck that it should be impossible… you… you came to me…”

 Virgil looked up, ignoring the way happy tears streamed down his face. The main raised a hand, gentle fingers wiping them away. 

 “I am… I am sorry it took so long… I had tried to come sooner but as I was working on it… that one night… I worried you wouldn’t wish to see me… so I waited…”

 He smiled so warmly and lovingly down at Virgil and Virgil blushed. 

 “I knew you would return one day and then I could be with you, if that was still what you wished.”

 Virgil’s tears doubled as he laughed, nodding. 

 “You have no idea,” he said and with that he wrapped his arms around the other’s neck and kissed him desperately. He hated closing his eyes, worried that the man would vanish and the star would be back in the sky, but instinct won over his fear. Luckily, he still felt the other kissing him back. 

 Pulling away, Virgil blushed. 

 “I just realized… I don’t know what to call you… do you even have a name?”

 The man nodded, smiling down at him as if he was the most precious thing in the world. 

 “My actual name you would not be able to pronounce. But I have chosen a new one for myself, now that I no longer have need for the other. You may know me as Logan.”

 Virgil mouthed it and smiled. 

 It was the perfect name for his star. 

 “Logan,” he said and the man blushed but beamed. Virgil blushed as well but couldn’t stop smiling.

 “Virgil,” Logan said, smiling back. He then glanced up at his old home. “It’s so much different… seeing it through these eyes… and thinking… so strange... but… if you’re here… and this is your home… then I want to share it with you… if that is something you would like.”

 Virgil just threw his arms around him and buried his face into the crook of Logan’s neck. Long arms wrapped around him, embracing him. If he hadn’t quite been sure that this wasn’t all an elaborate dream, he was sure now. 

 Nothing in life had felt as safe and sound as his time with his star had and that was the exact feeling he felt now, in the other’s arms. He smiled and pressed closer. 

 “I love you, Logan.”

 He didn’t know how, but he could feel rather than see Logan’s smile. 

 “I love you, Virgil.”

 I just want you to know who I am.

———————————————–

Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with Thomas Sanders or Joan, nor the rest of their group. I do not own or make money off of these characters. I only own the story as it is written.

Super uber thanks to my beta reader for this fic @sunshineandteddybears​ and the two that preread my stuff to make sure its up to par: @romantichopelessly & @sunshineandteddybears.

[myhaikyuuthings]

I want us

requests: Can you write a part 2 for ‘Better Man’? Like the reader ends up with Bokuto or something and ends up getting married to him while Kuroo is just kinda there, hurting. Or you can have reader and Kuroo get back together if you’d prefer, just anything ending with fluff 😔

part 2 please? 

Continuation of: better man

pairing: bokuto x reader, mentions of past kuroo x reader

fluff, angst, happy ending 

warning: mentions of past cheating, 

word count: 3770

it was longer than i intended so it continues under the cut!

 It’s cold outside, the first snow starting to fall. You sit by the window, watching with a heavy heart. It’s the first snow since your divorce, you can’t help but reminisce. 

You met Kuroo when you were just eight years old, the two of you becoming best friends. On your thirteenth birthday he told you he liked you, and that had started your first and only relationship. It was tradition for the two of you to experience the first snow together, always with soft smiles and promises to love each other for the rest of your life. 

It’s a weird feeling, to be here alone now. You sip your tea, closing your eyes as you savor the warmth it gives you. You want nothing more than to step out into the snow, put the last twelve years behind you, but it’s not so easy. Doing it without him feels wrong.  A knock against your door pulls a sigh from your lips. You peak through the window, seeing your old friend waiting. 

“Hi Bokuto-san,” you greet as you open the door, smiling as best as you can manage. 

“Aw have I been gone so long I don’t get my nickname anymore,” he pouts, opening his arms for a hug. You chuckle, wrapping your arms around his waist. “Hi y/n-chan.”

“Hey Kou, how have you been? I’ve been keeping up with your games on the TV, you’re as good as ever,” you compliment, moving to let him into the house. 

“I’ve been good! I’ve missed everybody, it’s just stayed really busy and when I am free it’s always so late at night I feel bad if I text,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. 

“I can understand that, if it’s any consolation I missed you too.”

You had met Bokuto during your first year. You were the manager in training for Nekoma where Kuroo played volleyball. The two of you had gone to the training camp and your boyfriend at the time met him after dinner one night. The two had instantly clicked, so of course you were introduced to the boy too. It sparked a great friendship and you loved your friend dearly. 

By the time the two of you met, you had been dating Kuroo for about two years. Bokuto had expressed how jealous he was that Kuroo not only had a girlfriend, but that his girlfriend was also part of his team. He was always there for both of you through high schools, a lot of your best memories were littered with his face right alongside the man you loved. 

“Where’s Kuroo anyways? Well the other Kuroo,” he asks, accepting the mug you hold out with a grin. “I wanted to surprise you guys, maybe go out for the first snow like we used to as teenagers.”

“Kou, when’s the last time you talked to Tetsurou?” you ask, your voice wavering. He tilts his head, seeming to think for a while.

“God a little over a year ago, man I’m a bad friend,” he sighs, shaking  his head. “Why is he okay?”

“I don’t know, to be honest. We got a divorce a few months ago, I haven’t heard anything from him since,” his eyes widen, concern quickly taking over the shocked expression. He grabs your hand across the table, rubbing his thumb soothingly against the back. 

“What happened? You two were the perfect couple,” you laugh a little, causing his concern to grow. 

“He cheated on me Kou, for months,” you finally tell him, your throat restricting around the words. Even now, your body rejected the memory so harshly you felt like you would throw up. 

You sit silently, his grip tightening on your hand as his face goes hard. You move to speak, shutting your mouth at the tears filling his eyes. He closes his eyes, a single tear rolling before he gets his emotions under control. 

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he whispers, looking deeply into your eyes. “You deserve better than that, and I can’t believe he would do something like that to you.”

“I couldn’t either, sometimes I forget and I’ll wake up to an empty house and it just,” you laugh, trying to mask the pain in your voice but you know he sees through it. He was always good at reading you, “it hits  me then, that it wasn’t just some bad dream. I’ll be okay.”

“You will, you’ll be okay,” he assures you, “he’s a piece of shit.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, “He’s your best friend..” You know Bokuto has always cared about you as well as Kuroo, but at the end of the day they were the best friends. Inseparable once together, so his words threw you off.

“You loved him so much, I knew it from the first time I met you two,” he explains, his hand never once letting go of yours. “I’ve never seen anyone as in love as you were, and he threw that away. He broke you, I can see it in your eyes when I talk about him, so yeah he was my best friend but so are you, and he fucked up. You may not be asking me to take sides but I am, and I’m taking your side.” 

So the two of you sit, catching up on everything you’ve missed. His team won the last tournament, so they’ll be going to the olympics next year. Because of this, he’ll be in town for a while, the team training with other teams that will fly in to meet them. You offer to let him stay in the extra bedroom that used to be Kuroo’s home office when he says he still needs to find a apartment before his teammate Sakusa actually kills him for his ‘germs’. It takes a lot of reassurance that it’s  okay, and admitting that you had trouble sleeping without someone else in the house. 

“Just, I know I’m only twenty five,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair. “But even before we moved in together after highschool, our parents always let us stay at each others houses because they trusted us. I haven’t been without him for many years so it’s just hard to sleep in an empty house.”

“If you swear it’s okay, then I’ll move in, but I get to cover the rent,” he agrees, a smug look on his face as he finds a suitable solution.

“I own the apartment, it’s paid off,” you admit, watching his cheeks tint pink with a small smile. “You can cover half the other bills? We do a proper roommate situation.”

-

It was easy living with him. Sure he was a little messy, but he always made sure to clean up if you asked. After the first two times, he quickly figured out how much was an ‘acceptable’ amount of mess, and rarely went past that. The two of you had movie marathons every weekend, cuddling up on the couch with an array of movies playing. 

He was there anytime you woke up from a dream about Kuroo, your sobs carrying to his room as you realized the reality. You were there when he had a bad day at practice, comforting him and reminding him how good a player he is. He let you rant and rave anytime your heart reminded you of your past, the ache turning to anger, your eyes too dry for any tears to fall. You always calmed down, muttering apologies and thanks as he held you in his arms. Today was no different when you came home from the market, having ran into your ex husband. 

“I’m never going to love someone again,” you mumble against his chest one night. Your voice was so broken, you would have missed the tears that caught in his eyes at the sound if you didn’t have your head so close to his heart. “It’s okay Kou, it’s just better for me.”

“You’ll love someone again,” he whispers against the crown of your head, tightening his hold on you. “You deserve to be loved the way you loved him, and you’ll find that. And if any guy fucks you over again, I’ll break his face okay?” 

“Does that count for Kuroo?” you ask, only half joking. The shake of his chest as he laughs pulls a small smile to your lips. 

“It does, if he ever tries to talk to you again I’ll fight him for you okay?” Your heart swelled, a warmth feeling filling your chest. You leaned back, cupping his cheek softly. 

“I was kidding, but thank you,” you don’t miss the slight blush on his face, but you ignore it, not wanting to figure out what it means now. “My knight in shining volleyball uniform.” 

He snorts at your analogy, pulling you back into your hug. You rest your hands on his hips, giggling with him. 

“You’re something else y/n,” you can feel the smile against your head, pressing your face closer to his chest. 

“Yeah but you care about me anyways,” he gasps, your giggles echoing at his dramatics. 

“I care about you because you’re something else! One of a kind! Only girl like you in the world,” he raves, talking with his hands as you lean back to look at him. “I don’t care about you despite you being different, I care about you because you’re different. Billions of women in the world, not a single one even comes close to being like you.” 

In retrospect, you should have realized that night where this was going. But you chose to stay oblivious, subconsciously you knew you weren’t ready to move on.

-

You follow him to Brazil for the olympics, wearing his training jersey he had given you. A lot has changed in the last year, you feel lighter. You take your spot in the ‘family and friends’ section set aside for every team. His eyes caught yours as the coach talks to them, he smiles at you which you return easily. 

The game flows beautifully. It’s obvious the other team is good, the black jackals barely keeping the lead. Your cheers are loud and proud as he spikes the ball to the other side of the court, winning the game for his team. Your breath catches when his eyes immediately search for yours, his face bright. 

It’s not hard to love Koutarou. You loved him before you even realize, but once you do, it makes sense. Your mind drifts to your second year when Kuroo had been ignoring you after your first bad fight, and how Bokuto had comforted you, talked you out of  leaving him. You couldn’t deny that you had harbored a small crush for him all those years ago. Little did you know, he had as well. 

“Y/N!” His voice calls as he runs up into the stands. His arms wrap around your waist before you can react and he has you in the air. “You’re a good luck charm, I thought we were going to lose.”

“That was all you guys,” you laugh, placing your hands on his shoulders as he beams up at you. “All I did was cheer for you.”

“Your cheers are filled with luck, we only have one more team to beat and we’ll have gold!” 

“I’m proud of you,” you say, your voice soft and filled with admiration.

 The two of you are so caught up in each other that you don’t notice the camera crew a few feet away. They were waiting to interview him, but started recording when his body met yours. In the few years he had been in the spotlight, he had never been seen with someone in a romantic way. Even if that’s not how you two intended it, that’s how the whole world saw it as they broadcasted live. 

Bokuto notices the crew, setting you down and giving your shoulder a squeeze before walking over to them, his hand resting in yours. “Sorry to keep you guys waiting, I had to thank my lucky charm!”

“Your lucky charm? What’s your name miss?” the interviewer smiles sweetly at you, greeting you properly instead of ignoring your existence like you expected. 

“Oh I’m Y/N Y/L/N, but i’m not his lucky charm,” you stammer, blushing slightly which makes Kou coo at you. 

“Don’t listen to her, we’ve been friends since my first year of high school, anytime she was at a game of mine I won,” he tells her, smiling down at you, “whatever she believes, her cheering is a lucky charm for me and whatever team I’m playing with.”

“Wow you’ve known each other that long? That’s amazing, how long have you two been together, why are we only meeting her now?” 

“Oh wow, no we’re not together, she’s my best friend,” he explains, blushing brightly. 

“I’m sorry for assuming!” She apologizes, bowing deeply. You both assure her it’s okay before she continues with her interview, this time making sure her questions are only on the game. 

-

He won gold, bringing it back to Japan with his head held high and his hand in yours. Things had gotten weird after that interview, he was less affectionate with you than ever before. He didn’t want to  make you uncomfortable or let you realize his feelings for you. You had grabbed his hand when you got off the plane, your pout pulling a sigh from his lips when he tried to remove it. 

Back at your home, you sit him down with a pout on your lips and worry in your eyes. “Did I do something? You’ve always been affectionate ever since I met you but lately you seem to recoil from my touch. It’s okay I just don’t know why..”

“Oh Y/N no love,” your heart soars at the slip of the petname, his voice soft, “I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable after that interview. I’m sure you weren’t happy with her assuming we were dating, or the amount of people online who had the same idea.” 

“And if I told you I didn’t mind?” you ask, looking away from him in embarrassment, “what if I told you I didn’t hate it, actually the opposite.” 

He slides closer to you, his knees pressing against yours as you two sit on your bed. He takes your chin in between his fingers lightly, turning your face so your eyes meet his. You freeze, the hope in his eyes so obvious you wonder how you didn’t figure it out sooner. He liked you too. 

“Do you mean that?” his voice was soft and husky, sending shivers down your spine. You nod, unable to find your voice. “I’ve loved you for a long time.

Long before you had your heart broken, before you married him, I’ve loved you since our second year.” He admits, you smile softly, his hand moving to rest against your cheek. 

“I know Kou, I didn’t at the time but I can see it now,” you say, leaning into his touch, “the way you spoke to me back then, how you were always there, the soft touches. I was too blind back then.”

“You were with Kuroo, it didn’t matter how I felt, a part of me was glad you never figured it out, I didn’t want to come between you two ever. No matter how much I loved you.” 

A loud knock came from the front door, breaking the intimate moment between you. Bokuto sends you a small smile, going to see who it was. He doesn’t bother looking through the peep hole, instead just opening the door. You wait in the bedroom, jumping when you hear a loud bang. You rush into the living room, seeing him standing in front of the closed door, his body tense.

“Kou?” you approach him, placing your hand on his shoulder gently. “What was that?”

He takes a deep breath as the knocking on the door starts up again. Turning to you, he gives you a tight smile and asks you to go back to the bedroom. When he realizes you aren’t going anywhere, he flings the door open as the knocking turns into a banging. 

“What the fuck Bokuto?” You freeze, you haven’t heard his voice in nearly two years. Your grip on Bokuto tightens, his hand coming up to push you behind him.

“I should be asking you that Kuroo,” his voice is colder than you’ve ever heard it, the anger radiating off of him nearly scaring you. “Why are you here?”

“I saw the broadcast from the Olympics, I had to know if Y/N was with you now, I guess this answers my question,” he scoffs, gesturing to you hiding behind Bokato, wearing one of his t shirts that covered your shorts. 

“You have no right to know who she is or isn’t with, did you forget what you did?” Bokuto steps forward, your hand falling from it’s place around his bicep. “Did you forget Kuroo? Do I need to remind you?”

“I know what I did, but you were my friend too,” you wince at the pain in his voice, you feel a bit guilty for liking Bokuto when he says it like that. 

“Yeah I was, and you were her husband, I guess we both let down people who we never should have,” he moves to shut the door, Kuroo’s hand stopping it. No sooner than you can process it, Bokuto’s fist collides with your ex husband, blood gushing from his nose almost immediately. 

“Kou!” You gasp, grabbing onto him before he can hit him again. 

“I told you, if he showed his face in front of you again I was going to hit him,” he whispers, trying to calm himself. Kuroo curses, cupping his nose. You feel bad, bringing him a wash cloth and ice pack.

“Here, for the nose,” you whisper, holding it out to him. Bokuto scoffs beside you, his hand resting on your waist. “I’m sorry he hit you, but you kind of deserved it.”

“Kind of?” “Kou enough, please.” 

Kuroo accepts the items with a small thanks. Wiping the blood that ran down his face, he turns to the two of you. “Are you two together? Can you just tell me that Y/N?” 

“You should go,” is the only answer you give him. Once you’re sure he’s gone you turn to Bokuto, “you really hit him.”

“I’ll do it again if I have to,” he says, not looking  even the least bit regretful of his actions. 

“Can I kiss you Koutarou?” 

His lips are on yours before you can finish your sentence, hands holding onto your hips tightly. You moan into the kiss, your hands gripping his upper arms. The feeling of his lips against yours felt better than you could have ever imagined, the soft groans leaving his lips telling you he felt the same. You pressed your  body closer to his, your chest flush with his. He pulls you even closer, taking a few steps backwards until he sits on the couch, you falling onto his lap. 

“I love you, and I know you don’t feel that way about me yet, that’s okay,” he pants, looking up at you. “But I need to know if you really want this, us before we do anything else.”

“I want us, I want you,” you reply, your hands playing with the hair at the base of his neck. His hairs down, and you decide this is your favorite look on him. 

“Yeah?” he can’t keep the smile from his face as you nod, his heart feeling satisfied for the first time in years. “I’m really glad I never moved on from you.” 

His lips find yours once more, and you melt into him.

-

You never thought you would be standing here again. It’s been nearly four years since you started dating Bokuto, and he asked you to marry him two months ago. You didn’t want a big wedding this time around, and he agreed, just wanting to marry you, regardless of how many people were there. 

You stand, the sand between your toes, your dress brushing against your knees as the wind blows. He wanted a beach wedding, and you didn’t have the heart to say no. He stands at the ‘altar’, his outfit casual but beautiful to you. His smile is wide, eyes full of love as you approach him.

“I love you, you look perfect,” he praises you, his hands taking yours. “Are you ready for this?”

“I’m ready love,” you smile, cooing at the teary eyed smile he gives you. 

The wedding was small, intimate, but just as lovely as your first. If not better. Only your immediate family and closest friends were present, all of them happy for the two of you. It was a small reception, hardly anything, more of a beach party than a wedding reception. 

You found yourself tangled in his arms as you sway to the music, your heart light, at peace. 

“Thank you for trying to surprise me that day,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I don’t know where I would be if you hadn’t shown up then.”

“You’d be right here,” he shrugs, a sure smile on his face, “one way or another, I would have found out and been at your doorstep ready to help you. You falling in love with me is just the cherry on the cake for me, I was happy as long as you were, it didn’t matter who you were with. As long as you had that smile on your face, I would step aside every time for someone else to love you.”

“The only person I will ever love as much as you, is our baby,” you laugh as his eyes widen, he stops swaying, his grip on  you tightening slightly.

“I don’t know if you’re saying you want kids or if you’re saying you’re already pregnant,” his voice is quiet, not giving anything away. 

“I found out two days ago.” The scream of joy that fell from his lips had everyone jumping, never quite used to his outbursts. You giggle, his hands holding you up in the air with the happiest look on his face. He puts you down, pulling you into a deep kiss. 

“Best day of my life,” he says, kissing you between each word. 

Maybe you got it wrong the first time you got married. But you knew, standing before him now, that you got it right this time. 

[me-and-your-husband]

Honey, I’m Home

Summary: After Steve went on the run from the government after the events of civil war, you await the day you can see him and your daughter again. When that day comes, a new hope is found.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Dad!Steve Rogers x Mom!Reader

Warnings: ANGST, fluff, mentions of fighting, domestic/nomad Steve.

Italics denote a flashback

           Steve had pushed me to sign the Accords. “I don’t want Jane to have both her parents war criminals,” Steve had said. I reluctantly agreed, knowing it was for my daughter’s best interest. I knew that signing was wrong; I didn’t believe that operating under the government’s jurisdiction was safe and proper, yet I signed.  

     Finally, the day of the fight came. With both her parents being at “ work”, Jane had to stay in the Quinjet in Germany when the fight took place, under the surveillance of FRIDAY, of course. Steve was the only one on the opposing team who knew that Jane was in the jet, so when Sam fired a missile at me and missed, it crashed into the Quinjet stationed behind me. Nat quickly pinned me down, as I did nothing to fight against her, only trying to wriggle away to get to my daughter. I repeatedly squeaked out her name, which got Steve’s attention. He dropped his shield and ran faster than I thought possible for even Steve, into the ‘Jet. I held my breath, and luckily, a few seconds later he came out holding a healthy Jane in his arms. At this point, Natasha seen what was going on and she lifted herself off of me. 

Sprinting towards my family, nobody intervened. I reached them and Jane lifted her head from Steve’s neck. 

“Baby, are you okay?” I said, frantically checking her body for any signs of injury. 

“Yes mama, I’m ‘kay,” she said. Steve wrapped his other arm around me as we both held our daughter, and planted a lingering kiss to my head. 

“I need to go, Baby,” Steve said, making me look up at him. I let out a shaky breath and nodded, but before any more could be said, Steve was called back to the battlefield by Sam, who was implying the urgency of the situation by frantically waving his hands around. Steve shifted Jane into my arms, and pressed his forehead to mine.

“I love you. So much, Doll, remember that for me, okay?” He said and I nodded and whispered a heart-felt “I love you too”. He kissed our daughter softly on the cheek, but couldn’t bring himself to say anything other than, “I love you, Janie, be good for your mom,” and then ran to his best friend. Tears ran down my cheek, but before they could reach my shirt, I was whisked into the air, clutching onto my daughter with my life, by some type of string. I landed on my feet, for once thanking that assassin training, and turned to see a man in a red onesie, perched atop a car.

     The eyes on his suit went wide, when a squeaky teenage voice rang through my ears. Definitely not a man.

“Oh, Mrs. Rogers, I’m so sorry, I-I thought you were on Cap’s side, and I didn’t know you had a child with you oh my God I'm so sorry I-” I took a deep breath before cutting him off, still clutching onto Jane.

“Spider-boy, get a grip, come on,” I said and he nodded, casting one more apology. “Can you get my daughter to safety?” I asked him. Having to put my trust in a pubescent high-schooler was not apart of my plans for the day. He promised me he could do it, and I gave my daughter to him. 

“It's okay Janie, I’ll come get you when this is all over, okay? Now listen to this boy, alright?” I said and she nodded. I placed a kiss on her forehead, before the spider thing swung away with her. 

My gaze followed them as they left the airport, but got interrupted when I was pulled back into the fight by Tony. 

Not even ten seconds later, I heard a low blast, and looked up to see a small taser missile heading for Peter. I held my breath as I watched him try to swerve around it, but it still hit his web shooter. The other arm was wrapped around my daughter, so he couldn't use the other occupied web shooter. As they started falling, Peter’s arm slipped from around Jane. Out of my peripheral vision, I seen a blue blur, Steve, running towards the ground beneath them. I closed my eyes, not wanting to believe it, but I had to know what was happening.

When I opened my eyes back up, Steve was carrying Jane back to his original spot with Sam and Bucky. I made my way over to retrieve my daughter, but T’challa was heavy on my heels. His speed out-shone mine by far, and he whipped past me and towards Steve. I knew he would never hurt a child, but I also knew he wasn’t particularly happy with Steve. T’challa came to a stop about thirty feet in front of them, and they exchanged some words. I finally caught up to where they were standing, and I wasn’t having any it

“Put the girl down, and let’s fight like real soldiers, if that’s what you claim to be,” T’challa spat. I looked around, thinking of my options. Then a plan struck me. Not one I would surely love the outcome of, but better than what could have happened. 

    Luckily, my suit was also built by Tony, so even if it looked like it was a basic red leather jumpsuit, I had a couple of tricks up my sleeve, literally. I pressed the “tase” setting on my built in brass knuckles, and threw a left hook towards his side. He abruptly turned around and grabbed my hand, which I knew he would, but it worked in my favor, as he dropped to the ground convulsing from the electrocution. I pinned him down, as he struggled against me. 

     I looked up to where the soldiers and my husband stood, Jane still terrified in his arms. “Go! Take her! Come find me when it's safe again,” I said to them. Steve gave me a sad look, and then a nod, as the four of them left on the jet. I watched them take off, and then hear T’challa grumble.

“Why would you do that!” He barked, a scowl on his unmasked face. 

“Why would I do that? Are you kidding me?” I hissed, slowly approaching him. “I did it because that’s my husband, and I’d give the world for him and my daughter. Don’t dare ridicule me for looking out for the two people in the world who I trust would do the same for me,”

     It was another rainy day, as the majority of the days are in Chicago. I came here a few months ago after I couldn't bear being around the other grumbling Avengers anymore. Things just didn't run as smoothly without Steve.

    I opened the curtains of my small apartment, and sighed. I peered into the bottom of my mug, eyes wandering in the tea. The soft murmur of the TV playing in the background could almost always be heard now, but not today. 

    Today was exactly eighteen months since I had last seen my daughter and husband. I tried to remain hopeful, but the more grueling days that passed, the less hope remained. Jane would be five now, though the last time I seen her she was only three. It hurt, it unbearably hurt, when I seen a little girl with her parents when I was out and about. Just simple things like going to the market, grabbing a coffee, all felt, kind of neutral. Like I was numb. The world just buzzed around me, everyone moving on with their lives, as I was left to grieve the unlost. 

   I looked down through the window at the bustling Chicago streets. Taxi drivers yelled at pedestrians to move out of the way, peddlers and street vendors on the sidewalks, families walking hand in hand down the busy sidewalks. I glanced across the room to my analog clock, which presented the time as 10:02 am. My shift at the diner on the corner started at 10:30. 

   I threw my tea down the sink, and slipped on an old pair of ripped jeans and a t-shirt. My hair ended up in a low bun, with some hairs pulled out to frame my face, nothing special. I finished with a baseball cap, and decided I looked presentable. I grabbed my coat and phone, slipping it into my back pocket. I opened a door, to which revealed two men in baseball caps and sunglasses, one with his fist raised to the door, as if he was going to knock. 

“Gentlemen, what can I do for you?” I asked, puzzled, and the man slowly lowered his fist. The men both removed their disguises, and contagious grins spread across our faces. 

“Sam? Bucky?” I questioned, looking frantically between the two men. They nodded, and when I jumped in between them, wrapping one arm around each of their necks, they both chuckled, patting my back.

“Where's Steve? Jane?” I asked them, looking down the hall.

“That's where we're here to take you, doll,” 

Part 2

[poptod]

induratize (Kenny Al-Bahir x Reader)

Description: Induratize (v.) - to amek one's own heart hardened or resistant to someone's please or advances, or to the idea of love

Notes: I dislike this immensely and I feel embarrassed posting it but I mean... we’re lacking in Kenny fics and every bit counts lmao. Implied male reader.  Word Count: 1.5k

In your world, there are certain things you don't understand but have to accept. There are things like that in every person's life, but you're a little too caught up in your own, centered around the school you go to and the home you can't bear. Not that there's any specific reason you dislike your home or your parents – just general teenage angst. It's handy to blame your problems on hormones, but there are adults like you too; adults who refuse to love, who can't open their hearts, who grow sick at the thought of loving others. You know it's unhealthy. You know something has to change, because it isn't like you've never felt love before – only that you've decided no one is truly worth the time and heartbreak.

A closeted, homosexual high schooler in 2005 – what a wonderful thing to be, what a wonderful reason to hate yourself. What a wonderful reason to distance yourself from your classmates, what a wonderful excuse to ignore your teachers. But you know the difference between solitude and being anti-social, a line you cross very easily, though you manage to stay on top of your grades and such.

You've got your life figured out, or at least the life you will have to live for the next couple of years. Stay quiet, stay under the radar, don't make friends, don't spill secrets, listen intently, and most of all stay safe. There's only one problem with all of this:

There is an insanely attractive person trying to get your attention.

Not just any attention, either – romantic attention, and you can tell by his quickened heartbeat when you accidentally touch upon his pulse point, his dilated eyes, his mouth parted ever so slightly in awe of you. You're nothing special, you know that, but you're not willing to debate why this boy likes you. The only thing you're willing to do is try and get rid of him.

During lunch times you try to find the oddest, most secluded spot you can so no one can find you. Usually it works well, and every now and then you go off to find a new spot – this time it's inside one of the trees on campus, far off on the other side of the school's massive lawn for football and soccer practice. Sitting underneath it would've been too conspicuous, so you climbed high into it's branches, and began quietly eating.

Nearer to the school building itself, kids swarm around in all different heights and colors, like a massive swath of bees that don't quite belong to the beehive but can't survive anywhere else. It's a stupid analogy you think, but not entirely incorrect. However there's one distant form that grows steadily larger and clearer, and as a sinking feeling develops in your chest, you realize that maybe sitting in a tree isn't as inconspicuous as you originally thought. It's that boy who keeps trying to talk to you, and his hair looks recently cut. He looks a lot better than he did before.

"Hey," he says, a simple start to what you know is going to be a grueling conversation, at least for you. His voice wavers when you meet his eye, something you're sure is an anxious habit.

You don't respond.

"What are you, um, doing up there?"

"Eating," you reply in a muffled voice, talking around a purposefully large bite of sandwich.

"Can I join you?" He asks, much more straightforward than you thought him capable of. In the one class you have with him, he's rather squirrelly, but you admire the courage he's plucked up. So instead of saying no you say nothing, and wait for him to draw his own conclusions. 

It takes him a little while, but he manages to get to where you sit, the thick tree branches easily supporting his weight next to you. As he gets comfortable you note his heavy breathing, and watch with careful eyes as he takes off his coat. He has muscles. How did you never notice that before?

He takes a deep sigh and closes his eyes, tilting his head up to the sky. It's then you notice the discoloration along his jawline, a clear bruise against his tawny oak skin, and a cut across his cheekbone. Curiosity overcomes you, and for the first time in a good long while you say the first sentence.

"What happened to you?"

Impersonal enough, you think – it isn't like you asked him if he's alright, though it is sort of implied... when he turns to you with surprise, you can feel regret bubbling in your stomach.

"I, um, got into a fight," he says quietly, scratching sheepishly at the back of his neck. You raise a single eyebrow. He's not the type to get into fights. "Alright, fine," he says. "I.. got beat up, just a little bit. You should see the other guy."

What a cheesy joke, you think, but he smiles gingerly and every thought in your head blips out of existence.

"Oh, my name's Kenny," he says suddenly, holding his hand out for you to shake. He's overly polite, but you know your manners as well, and you take his hand to greet.

"I thought so," you say in reply, recalling the few times his name was hinted at you. "I'm (Y/N)."

"You're in my science class, right?"

"AP Biology, second period, Mrs. Holsten," you say.

"Right. She assigns a lot of homework," he comments thoughtlessly, something you know is a desperate attempt to fill any silence that could appear.

"Sometimes," you agree.

"I just.. it takes me forever, 'cause I usually have to help Larry finish his as well. He's in that class too."

"Who's Larry?" You ask slowly, wanting nothing more than to crawl up into a ball and roll away. This is far too close to 'getting to know someone' than you're comfortable with.

"Oh, sorry, he – he's one of my friends," he says as though he has other friends.

You hum in response, directing your attention back at your lunch. Kenny, however, feels very differently, and makes several more attempts to keep conversation going. For the most part you don't pay attention, catching only snippets of the subjects he's talking about – even though you despise talking with people, you can't deny he has a very nice voice, and you (unfortunately) enjoy listening to him.

"– yeah, but no matter if the rumors are true or not, they're still bad to spread around, you know? Like, there's rumors about me, and –"

"What rumors?" You interrupt him, turning to face him.

"Oh, um... some people think I'm gay," he laughs, and it's a horrible fake laugh, "which of course isn't true."

You're so tempted, so, so tempted to say point blank that you're gay, to ask what's wrong with being gay, but you don't. Thank God.

"Interesting," is what you settle on, staring at him and nodding like you're spacing out which, to be fair, isn't entirely untrue.

Kenny seems kind enough – he's practically spilled his entire life story over the course of the fifteen minutes you've been together, and you have little reason to distrust him. That being said, your distrust of humanity is still rooted deep inside you, and you doubt a single man could demolish that. But looking at him, watching the way he bites subconsciously at his lips, the way his eyelids flutter open and closed and the long lashes that line his grey eyes – you want to toy with this boy. It's probably just your gay thoughts irritating you again, but God he looks like a good target, and he's just so damn pretty.

So you give in.

"Has anyone told you yet that you're pretty?" You ask, pretending it's a normal and casual thing to ask. As expected, Kenny flusters and stammers, falling over his words as he tries to string together a coherent sentence.

"I, uh – I'm not, I uh.. I don't think I – not.. um, there's not – I mean –"

You decide to spare him from further embarrassment, which he greatly appreciates (even if he doesn't say anything).

"I'm assuming that's a no, then," you say, to which he quickly agrees with a nod of his head. "That's a shame. I hope that changes."

Your saving grace – the bell rings from across the large field, and tucking away your containers into your too-large pockets, you hop easily down the tree, followed by a much more nervous Kenny. Reaching your hands up to him, you help him down the last branch, landing him safely on his feet.

"There you are," you mutter as he brushes himself off. "Any scratches?"

"I, um, don't think so," he says quietly, his breath halting when you brush a hand down his chest, ridding his shirt of a couple of bits of bark.

"Get some ice on that cut and bruise," you say, patting his shoulder and turning to leave.

After a moment you can hear his footsteps chasing after you, and it isn't long at all till the two of you are walking together, on your way to your separate classes.

"A lot of people think you're rude," he says out of nowhere. You shrug.

"That's on them," you chuckle, and he easily agrees.

"I think you're kinda nice."

"... thanks."

It's the first time anyone your age has complimented you. Maybe talking to people isn't as horrible as you thought.

[theatresweetheart]

Okay, this isn't exactly a dialogue prompt, but! In your parental royality au, what would happen when Virgil does find out that everyone knows about his tally journal?

When Things Aren’t Okay

Warnings: Shouting, swearing, heavy angst, accusations, running away, fighting, arguing, fear of parental rejection, crying.

Pairings: Brotherly Analogical, Romantic/Parental Royality, Familial LAMP

Characters: Logan, Virgil, Patton, Roman.

Word Count: 1789 words

Continuation/AU: Tally Marks, Untold Notebook Secrets

A/n: This is some heavy angst, so please be warned of that! However, this AU isn’t all heavy sadness, there is comfort coming! 

                                         ——————————

“Logan, do you think I’m a disappointment?”

Logan’s attention flickered up from his homework and turned to face the thirteen-year-old sitting on the window sill, his knees tucked up into his chest.

Virgil wasn’t looking at him. Logan was positive he would continue to not look at him.

Though, before he had the chance to respond, Virgil was speaking.

“Mr. Wood told me I‌ was a disappointment today,”‌ he said, letting his chin rest against his knees, staring out into the fading light of the day. “I‌ mean, I‌ get why he said it, you know?‌ Not like I disagree really.” He puffed his cheeks up with air before letting it out with a soft sound. “Mrs. Wood even agreed, but in that way where she says it like she doesn’t mean it, but it’s telling that she really does believe it.”

Logan’s brows pulled forward, concern etching itself across his face. The fact that Virgil wasn’t even disagreeing with the people that spoke down to him was not sitting well with Logan.

“I‌ just–” Virgil’s voice stuttered and his breathing hitched, but he didn’t turn to face Logan. “I‌ just want to hear it from you. That I’m… that I’m not a disappointment.”

Because then, maybe he’d believe it.

                                        ——————————

A few nights had passed after Roman and Patton had found Virgil’s tally journal. And there was a feeling of constant worry that seemed to hover over their shoulders; an anxiety that Virgil would figure out that they knew and then all hell would break loose.

Patton had upped his usual kindness with Virgil, but it wasn’t that noticeable. Patton had always been loving and doting on the seventeen-year-old, so it was nothing new. He wanted to get him involved in family things, when they had movie nights or played a board game together. (Which usually lasted about an hour before Virgil got bored and Logan went to finish his homework.)

Roman’s change was a bit more obvious, but not to the point where it was like a flashing light. Whenever he looked at Virgil, his eyes were sadder, more subdued– as if thinking about everything the boys had faced before coming into their home. He was still as much an overbearing and overwhelmingly warm presence as before, but there was just something more diminished. Quieter.

If this had been the case with both parents beforehand, Logan would have been inclined to do some digging himself. However, since he knew the cause of this distress, he waited in silent agony for the moment Virgil found out the truth.

It was quiet one night, he and Virgil were finishing up with the dishes from supper.

“Do you think Dad and Pa are acting weird?” Virgil said, taking the final plate from Logan and drying it off with the dish towel.

Logan hummed, expertly hiding his surprise behind a quirked brow. He pulled the drain from the sink. “How so?”

Virgil shrugged his shoulders, opening the cupboard and putting the plate away. He slung the dish towel over his shoulder in an idle and thoughtless motion. “I‌ dunno,”‌ he admitted, his eyes flickering toward the stairs, leading to their bedrooms. In turn, where Roman and Patton had disappeared to only a few moments prior. “They’re just acting…different. Like, Pa is always asking if I want to join him and Dad for movie nights. And Dad is always wanting to know about my day and things I‌ like and stuff, but more then they do usually. Y’know?”

“I‌ have to say I haven’t noticed anything,”‌ Logan told him, turning to face the other boy, mirroring Virgil’s leaned position against the counter. “They seem normal to me.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “You can’t seriously tell me you don’t see them sharing these concerned looks over my head.”

Logan paused, looking briefly surprised. That little slip-up was what caused Virgil to narrow his eyes suspiciously. He stepped forward.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” he accused. “Don’t you?”

“Of course I‌ don’t.”

“You’re a really shitty liar, Logan,” Virgil snorted. “Mr. I-See-Everything-and-then-snitch. You know that Dad and Pa have been acting weird, you just don’t want to acknowledge it.”

“Well, so what if they have been?” Logan said defensively. He snatched the dish dowel off of Virgil’s shoulder before using it to dry his hands. He tucked it back onto the oven’s handle before leading out of the kitchen, intending to leave this conversation behind. “It’s none of our business.”

“No, it very much is.” Virgil was quick to follow him out, brushing past him and stepping in front of him. “Because this only started a couple days ago. After Pa told us to put our books into a pile so he could donate them.”

It was almost as if after Virgil had said those words aloud, something in the air shifted. A‌ shadow overcame his baby brother’s face and his eyes darkened slightly, but only in the way that said he was thinking about something.

“…you don’t think–” Virgil’s voice was quiet, contemplative.

Logan tucked his hands into his pockets, a concerned look painting across his features at the soft words. It was obvious Virgil wasn’t talking to him, but to himself. Though, that didn’t stop Logan from pushing slightly further. “Don’t think… what?”

Virgil’s eyes flickered up to meet his own, this time startled. He didn’t say anything as he turned on his heels and zipped up the stairs.

Logan felt a rock sink into his stomach. It was uncomfortable and heavy and it made his chest seize up. He was quick to follow Virgil up the stairs, turning the corner and seeing his younger brother had left his door open and was tearing through his bedroom.

Looking for something that wasn’t there.

Guilt flushed forward when Logan heard the soft panicked noises.

He stepped forward, intending to say something, but Virgil’s eyes turned up to meet his own instead. The words died instantly in Logan’s throat when he registered the glassy look in Virgil’s eyes, how they were swimming with tears. But there was panic behind that gaze, wild and heady. He looked like a scared and cornered animal.

“Do you think they found it?”‌ Virgil asked, his voice growing hoarse.

Logan decided it was better to play as if he didn’t know better. “Found what?‌ Virgil, what are you talking about?”

“My notebook!”‌ Virgil’s voice was sharp, but on the cusp of shattering. “I know you know what I’m talking about!‌ You really think I didn’t know?”

Logan’s mouth went dry, feeling as though he had been caught with his hand in the metaphorical cookie jar. He blinked, feeling as though he was the one cornered when he in fact had the option to leave without another word. “I‌.. I‌ don’t–”

Virgil’s eyes hardened. They were dark and accusatory, but that didn’t take away from the fact that they were wet. “Tell me honestly,‌” he grit through his teeth, hands clenched at his sides. “Do they know?”

Logan didn’t have the chance to answer, the door down the hall opened. It took no time at all before Roman and Patton were standing behind Logan, both looking equally worried. Virgil’s attention flickered between both of his parents before falling back to Logan.

And Logan felt such an overwhelming amount of guilt at that broken look.

“Fuck you.”

The words were poison. Logan had to turn his gaze away.

For once, neither parent jumped to say anything to Virgil about his bad language. Instead, Roman stepped forward, past Logan and into Virgil’s bedroom. Virgil matched that step forward with a step backward, looking like he wanted to get out of there as soon as possible.

Like he just wanted to run. And keep running.

“I didn’t mean to find it,” Patton told him earnestly, his voice soft as he stepped forward to stand beside Roman. “I didn’t even know what it was. It still doesn’t make a whole lot of sense now.”

“It was a private thing,” Virgil said, as if they didn’t understand that. “You were never meant to find it in the first place. You were never supposed to know what any of that meant and Logan, for some god forsaken reason, thought it’d be okay if he told you what it was!”

“The only reason he told us was because we asked him to.” Roman knew this backlash had been coming, but it was worse then he had expected truthfully.

“But he still told you!”‌ Virgil’s voice cracked—either from anger or un-shed tears, it was hard to see. “That was my thing! If I‌ wanted you to know, I‌ would have told you!”

“And we understand that you’re upset,” Patton told him quickly. “You have every right to be, but just because we know, it doesn’t change anything.”

“But it already has,”‌ Virgil spat back, “you and Roman share these pity looks over my head. You’ve upped your kindness and try to get me involved in more family things, Roman’s making more of an effort than ever before to try and get to know me. You think I don’t notice? You think all of that is just going over my head?”

He’d managed to shock them all into silence.

Virgil nodded his head, lower lip quivering dangerously. He sucked it in and bit down into it, wanting to still it. “That’s what I thought.”

He moved forward and ducked around his parents, dipping his shoulder out of the way when Patton tried to reach out to him. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, hiked up his hoodie further and escaped down the stairs. Their parents followed him down the stairs quickly, talking over each other as if that would stop the teenager from leaving.

Logan stayed glued to his spot on the carpet. Feeling numb and cold.

There was some shouting from downstairs before the front door opened and slammed shut. Logan heard the door open again. He could hear Patton and Roman calling for Virgil to come back, they’re voices were muffled through the floor and walls.

                                        ——————————

“You’re not a disappointment, Virgil,”‌ Logan told him firmly, shutting his textbook before setting it to the side. He was giving his brother all of his attention, even if Virgil wouldn’t look at him.

There was a soft hiccuping breath from in front of him. Virgil’s head tilted just enough to the side to allow Logan to see his face. “Really?”

Logan couldn’t have said it more firmly than that. He needed his baby brother to know that he was the furthest thing from a disappointment. “Really.”

Virgil sucked in another stuttering breath, using the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe at his eyes.

Because if Logan said it, then it must be true.

[unfortunatelysirius]

╰☆☆ ℕ𝕆𝕋 𝕐𝕆𝕌ℝ 𝔾𝕀ℝ𝕃𝔽ℝ𝕀𝔼ℕ𝔻 ☆☆╮ [Sirius Black – Marauders Era] [Part 14]

Previous Installments: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13

╰❂╮ prompt ╰❂╮ ☾ ¡Original! ☾ With the perpetrator on their tail, and Sirius’s prejudices no longer something that can be ignored, relationships shatter and a safe way out is near unimaginable. ╰❂╮ author’s note ╰❂╮ Sorry this is so, so late. I hope the installment is to your satisfaction. AND IM SORRY IT’S SO SHORT BUT PLS, FEEDBACK WOULD BE APPRECIATED AND I’LL BE MORE PROMPT ON UPDATES. Will be updating Chocolate Frogs and Love Notes soon. Tell me if you want added to any of my tag-lists! ╰❂╮ warnings ╰❂╮ Angst, Swearing, Violence ╰❂╮ word count ╰❂╮ 2043 ╰❂╮ tag-list ╰❂╮ @kapolisradomthoughts @rageofcaliban @saucyleftovers @bunnymother93 @siriuslyr5 @apareciumimagines  @random-quartz @ruefulposts @seabasstiantrash @starlightspidey @pinkettepoet @peppermintspecks @jiongyongguk​ @bethanystan​ @raindancer2004​ @where-are-my-gummy-bears​ @cutebutnotinorcent​

           IT WAS NEARLY MIDNIGHT, and a disturbing sort of cold Y/N thought she might never experience in her lifetime, shivers up and down her spine within the dark, suffocating corridor. The stars were like silver dewdrops splattered across the navy sky, visible through each old window’s silhouette littered around the castle; with every passing step, Y/N caught another glimpse of Nature’s finest canvas. She was curled into Sirius’s side, squished between his subtly muscled body and James’s near-identical shape, both Remus and Peter trailing the three of them by seconds. It was reminiscent of times that seemed so far away.

         Y/N thought it was all too good to be true. Everything, from her and Sirius falling back into same-old, same-old routine like they’d never left the honeymoon phase to James looking quite sullen compared to his usual upbeat, enthusiastic self. She wondered if it was all a twist on reality to make her think things were fine when really, Sirius wasn’t anywhere near, James still hated her, and the Marauders were leading her somewhere to hex and discard their latest “conquest.”  It made all the more sense the longer she thought about it, but thoughts of the way Sirius felt—flesh, bone, whole—made her realize she was daft, and just a little bit mad.

         He was so obviously here, a living, breathing wonder, and she was trying to make it a mirage. She wanted it that way.

         Or maybe she’d just went long enough with things going wrong that miracles seemed far too good to be true.

         “I have to meet with Regulus,” murmured Y/N into the quiet air, after the silence became a tad bit too smothering. She was also alert of her own negligence, from her delirious daze to her angry soul’s demands for an apology, as Sirius’s arm looped around her became a bone-crushing reality. Not so much a reality she craved anymore, but one that needed multiple bandages slapped across it; the Muggle way of rekindling old flames and licked wounds. Y/N was beginning to grow agitated and nervous, as this reality crushed down on her. As her newly-put-together world fell apart in the wake of unanswered questions. “He—wants to help. He thinks I was Obliviated.”

         Sirius glanced down at her, looking unsure, his own face not betraying the inner turmoil running their world ragged. The two of them didn’t know how to approach their current problem, the one that kept them from falling together as happy memories asked them to; Y/N was afraid of what lay in wait, Sirius’s admittance that he thought so lowly of her that for even a millisecond he thought she might have been a slag, and Sirius dreaded the moment he had to let his betrayal out into the open. Neither of them were willing to ruin their reconciliation by simple, trivial ire, the kind that winded up someone alone and heartbroken, the kind that could get anyone and everyone hurt.

         Even the most painful of thoughts were best kept internalized, if it meant staying locked tight in a dream.

         Even now, the two of them were so different. Differences Y/N once overlooked in favor of what made them compatible.  

“Regulus doesn’t care about anyone except for himself,” Sirius snapped at Y/N, the three Marauders looking nervous in anticipation for the argument to come. “He’s a Slytherin. The bloody git is tricking you.”

         “How the fuck would you know?” Y/N was never one for confrontation. This was all new territory. She was tired, and depressed, and dying of questions; she loved Sirius, she did, but he was still the prejudiced, arrogant prat he was before they started dating. He’d always hate Slytherins because he grew up in a world full of snakes that rejected him for being who he was, and maybe that was a drawn line for why they weren’t meant to last. He was the charismatic, hateful railroad tycoon, and she was his subdued wife that tiptoed around his temper. Stupid, foolish—she was letting herself use another goddamned Muggle analogy—Americanized, no less. Maybe Y/N was running low on a lucid mind as much as she was excuses.

         He knows nothing about Regulus, she thought anyway, looking into those silver grey eyes she’d always loved. Sirius didn’t. He refused to talk to his brother; maybe Regulus was growing into himself and losing that part of him that preened and prawned from pleasing his parents. If he was scared, if he was determined to find the truth because he wanted to sabotage dark plans, he never once betrayed it. But deep down, there was nothing else rational to explain his motivations, and Y/N knew he was a scared little boy afraid the monsters would someday catch up to him—

And they’d eat him alive like all wolves just so happen to do.

“Regulus is your brother,” continued Y/N. “He doesn’t want to be part of whatever it is your parents do. I can see it in his eyes.”

“You didn’t grow up with him. You didn’t see him do nothing when his brother was lying on the ground, with their father standing above him,” seethed Sirius. “Don’t act like you know him; you sure as hell don’t.”

Y/N felt like crying, as she wrenched herself away from Sirius’s warm, comforting embrace. “Don’t act like you know me,” she spat. Sirius’s jaw fell downwards, a flicker of hurt flitting across his face. “Go mope in your dorm. I’m getting down to the bottom of this, with or without you.”

Sirius was silent. Y/N continued to watch him, imploring him to say something, wishing he wouldn’t just let her leave. If she left, she could get hurt, and Sirius wouldn’t be her knight in shining armor. They went so long in turmoil that Y/N wanted there to be some sort of compromise; if they could argue and fight for so long, the two a mess with their friends on the fence on how to fix them, then they sure as hell could be soft and melted together, too. Maybe they were different, maybe Sirius couldn’t let his old ways go, but truth be told—Y/N always wanted to show him a new perspective.

She’d tried doing that before things went wrong.

“Really, Sirius?” she said now, staring brokenly at him. “We could finally figure this out, and you’re backing down? Really?”

“Whoever’s done this is dangerous,” Sirius told her. His voice had lost all its shake, all its fury, rendered a new sort of mellow Y/N had hardly ever seen from him. He looked like he itched to hold her and reassure he was just an asshat, but his asshat ways betrayed none of his true love for her, or his need to protect her. None, nada, zilch: right? He was a teenage boy, a prat, but he didn’t mean anything out of his pathetically unfiltered mouth. “I want you safe, Y/N. We should leave this to the professors.”        

Those words were foreign out of his mouth. Y/N took a heavy breath and she said, “Sirius, do you even hear yourself? Merlin, what’s happened to you?”

“What’s happened to me? Me?” Sirius’s laugh was humorless. “You’re bloody mad.”

“Sirius, Y/N, this isn’t the best time,” said Remus, looking between the two with apprehension.

“This is the best time, Remus,” Y/N said, refusing to look at any of them. She knew Peter was fidgeting; she knew James was gap-mouthed like a pufferfish; she knew Remus was trying to hide his trepidation. She knew Sirius was silently seething. All of them, they weren’t clearly thinking. They didn’t have their nerves together. Y/N was terrified that solving the bottom of the mystery would never come if they fell apart before they came together. But Y/N could no longer go on if her experience with the love of her life was only going to be heartache and pain, two things she had felt since coming to this God-awful school.

You’re not any better than him, thought Y/N, her brain suddenly going to Ashton. He was dead, and she’d never get to see him again; she’d never get to tell him she was sorry, that she never meant to use him, that he was someone she came to love in her desperation to feel. He taught her about love. He taught her that it was okay to be without for a little while because wholes always regain their lost pieces. Maybe he threw her into an abyss after he broke her heart that left her sad and lost of all hope, but now, with her head on her shoulders again, she could safely say he taught her a lot—yet she gained nothing.

Y/N was happy with Sirius, but he did not teach her anything. He was a fun partner in crime, but when it truly came down to life lessons, he wasn’t a teacher; he was along for the ride, a mere passenger in a bus packed to the brim with faces from the crowd.

Standing in the hallway, letting these thoughts wash over her, Y/N could not do this anymore. She needed to find Regulus and reach the climax of this game. Someone was toying with her and her feelings, and if she didn’t put a stop to it, if she didn’t find a way to draw the villain out and stifle the madness, there was no way for her to get peace—and she’d stay stuck in an endless cycle of being a living ghost.

“I can’t anymore, Sirius,” whispered Y/N. “I can’t.”

She turned around and ran.

The Marauders watched after her, one looking horrified, two looking shocked, and the one this mattered to most—he looked heartbroken.

And none of them even bothered to go after her, as the guilt sunk in and they realized—

Was the love-potion maker truly the villain? Or was it them?

-

Y/N had stopped running after reaching the fourth corridor. She eventually stopped walking altogether. Her pace slowed until it was nonexistent, her harsh, shaking breaths fell into soundless sniffs, her erratic thoughts slowly but surely came to a close. All she could think about now was Regulus, who was waiting at the library for her presence. And that half-blurry, half-familiar memory of a white-haired girl in the very same forest Y/N was in herself

Y/N knew it mattered. She knew she’d been Obliviated, and she was foolish not to go to Headmaster Dumbledore for help in retrieving her memories… but she was a foolish girl, and foolish girls wanted to figure out mysteries by themselves.

“I’m a bloody fool,” mumbled Y/N to herself, clutching her head like that would heal all trace of confusion, as well as her sadness. It wouldn’t, but it felt like it did—so Y/N continued to grope at her temples and scalp. The corridor echoed with spooky creaks and even spookier whistles. Y/N felt regret seep into her bones, as she realized she was still a bit of ways away from the library—and she was totally, utterly, completely alone.

Y/N heard someone laugh.

“You are a bloody fool,” they said.

Out from the end of the corridor emerged a girl, whose entire face and hair were obscured by shadows—but the pretty little patch on her robes had a snake on them. Y/N knew it was a Slytherin. But all she saw was the patch, as her body and face were near invisible—and even then, the patch’s emblazoning was blurry to her. She felt her head grow light, her eyes squinting to see within the darkness. She was so caught in looking at the patch to even pay any regard to the words the stranger spoke or the wand as it lifted, pointing right at Y/N’s chest.

“Who are—”

The girl flicked her wrist. “Stupefy,” she said.

Suddenly Y/N was knocked off her feet by a powerful spell, the backlash sending her head cracking against the corridor wall, rendering her immobile and near-unconscious.

She felt her body crumble, but only half of the way—a steady stream of numbness shooting through her like lightning.

         The stranger walked up, a laugh emptying from her mouth.

“Got you!” the girl sang happily.

That was when things went black.

[fortheloveoffanfic]

Put Me In a Movie

Keanu Reeves x Reader (A/n- Took me a sold five minutes to spell ‘ecstasy’ in the title)

Summary Prologue  1   2   3  4  5  6 7  8  9  10

Warnings- Angst

Chapter 11- Ecstasy To Aching 

The heavy ticking of the round faced, analog clock mounted over the bedroom door stirred the silence, drowning the steady beating of her heart and the loudness of Y/n’s murky thoughts. Even in the darkness, with heavy floral drapes blocking out the moonlight and all the lights in the house turned off, a consequence of it being past one in the morning, she could make out every detail of the bedroom. Her bedroom, even if the occasion of her occupying it had recently become scarce. Y/n had decorated the room herself, when she’d just moved in with her Aunt Bev. Her mother had hated that Y/n had chosen to leave, despised the court for giving Roger sole custody and abhorred the fact that in the end, because Y/n certainly couldn’t travel the globe with her father, she’d settled with her ex-sister in law. 

Rolling onto her side, facing the wall opposing the awning window to the left, Y/n couldn’t see it, but she knew for a fact that the lilac wall was peppered with band posters, sentimental pictures and those ridiculous plaques with inspirational quotes strewn in cursive. Sometimes Y/n couldn’t believe that she had been that kind of teenage girl. The kind that was so oblivious to the jaggedness of life that she thought hers could be remedied with some pretty words framed with flowers and hearts. Even then, she should have known better, she’d seen the marriage that she’d idealized fall apart, watch her mother spew venom at people she’d been taught to love and watched her father get in a cab, only to leave for months on end, more times than any little girl should have. But she had hope. Hope that things would be different when she was finally old enough to make it count. Hope that she hadn’t realized would dwindle before she could put it to use. 

Sighing quietly, Y/n shifted again, the rustling of her duvet no match for the persistent clock. It went without saying that sleep had been hard to come by since she’d gone to Santa Clara. She’d gotten in two days ago, and in those two days, a collective ten hours might have been a generous overstatement. It was like Y/n couldn’t turn her mind off, it was always going, usually replaying every moment spent with Keanu, desperately trying to figure it out, find where they were going wrong. But she couldn’t, for the life of her, Y/n just couldn’t. Well, at least, she couldn’t accept it. Accept part of the blame, accept that their way of doing things wasn’t the best, accept that maybe, they really had no place being together.

They hadn’t even spoken since she’d left, and while Y/n had, several times, considered calling him, she’d let the thought pass her by. Or rather, she’d forcefully pushed it away. What if he didn’t want to talk? What if she called and didn’t know what to say. 

She wished he wanted to talk. 

Keanu.

Blinking slowly, Y/n exhaled slowly. It was getting hard to pretend it didn’t hurt most times, but still, she cared for him. She cared too damn much. He was dangerously gorgeous, and his baritone was reminiscent of fine whiskey over rocks. His calloused touch, gliding over her hips, skimming her curves, was incomparable and Keanu’s brazen, quiet charm never failed to draw her in. There was so much about him besides that too, they way he made her heart beat a little faster by just whispering her name, they way his embrace could brighten the darkness and how it felt to kiss him. His taste; tobacco and mint, the way his tongue slid over Y/n’s when his lips fused with hers, it was……..perfect.

Y/n’s breath hiccuped at the realization that finally dawned upon her, and her eyes burned. Even after everything. After she’d realized that they were probably headed down a one way street to gut turning heartbreak; she’s fallen in love with him. 

She loved Keanu.

There, flat on her back, staring blankly at the clear ceiling, Y/n could barely register the quiet tears that escaped the corners of her wide eyes. Loved? When she wasn't even sure if he cared. And then, because she could never really get away from him, even if she was out of town, Y/n’s phone vibrated on the nightstand next to her, illuminating the darkened room.

The ringing seemed to go on forever and Keanu was beginning to think that Y/n had already turned in for the night. Still, he kept the faith, hoping that she’d pick up. He wanted to hear her.  He needed to hear her. It had been going on two days since they’d last spoken as time stretched forward, the gnawing feeling, the sheer insecurity, had only grown. Y/n was miles away, and every minute passed was a minute more of her putting him in the rear view. 

Even if they were a mess before, the moment Y/n had left, Keanu’s affections for her had been reignited with vigor. He couldn’t tell if it was plainly physical or not, but if his unsavory, juvenile actions had been anything to go by, he couldn’t discount the thought. Though, Keanu wouldn’t have gone as far as saying that he didn’t miss other things too; her laugh, the playful way she’d roll her eyes when he told a stupid joke and the warmth that would spread through him when Y/n laid her head on his shoulder. 

“Hello?” The line connected and her voice rang through breathy and soft. If Keanu closed his eyes, with just that one word, he could fuel his fantasy and ease his weary mind, and she was there. 

“Hey,” he whispered, husky and low, sitting up against the headboard, running corrective fingers through disheveled hair, “Did I wake you?”

Keanu could have sworn he caught her sniffing quietly, but Y/n spoke before he could think to ask about it, “No,” she dismissed, and could hear the faint sound of Y/n moving around between the sheets. Maybe he should have gone with her, that might have made things better, right? “I actually couldn’t sleep.”

Moistening his lips, Keanu wondered if it was because of him. If Y/n had been laying in bed, mind running rampant with thoughts of him they way his head with images of her. “Yeah, me too.” He sighed when she didn’t make a move to stir the new bout of silence, not really sure of what he should say next. The mood was confusing, he wasn’t even sure if she actually wanted to talk to him. If she wanted to talk, she might have called. And she hadn’t called, so maybe she didn’t want to talk. After his not so stellar behavior a few days ago though, he couldn’t blame her. And of course, that had just turned into something else they had neglected to address.

“I miss you,” he tested tentatively. It wasn’t a lie, he did miss her, yet still, Keanu was surprised that he’d chosen to admit it. He often thought that it was probably better to guard his feelings, to keep them close so there wasn’t the chance that they could be used against him. He didn’t want to be hurt like that, so instead, by default, he’d hurt her like that.

It took a while, and Keanu could feel the weight descending on his chest, she didn’t feel the same, she wasn’t missing him. Saying that was a mistake. The sirens were about to go off, he was about to shut down their brief conversation, when meekly, as always, she was able to still his quickened breaths, uttering in return, “I miss you too.” 

Clam. 

The sigh of relief that escaped his parted lips caught Keanu off guard and he was immensely relieved that the feeling was shared between them. “What have you been up to?” Y/n, seemingly sensing the impending awkwardness, probed gently.

“Not a lot,” an air of pseudo-nonchalance carried in his tone as Keanu toyed with the tightly stitched hem of his thick, warm, coverlet, the navy strips barely visible by the moonlight filtering in through the pulled curtains, “Just clearing up some things at Arch. I hung out with some friends earlier tonight. But that’s it. What about you, how’s your aunt and Santa Clara?”

“They’re good,” Y/n glazed over everything she’d done since she’d gotten there; how she’d caught up with her aunt over dinner, how they’d gone shopping and everything else. And after that, the ice between them seemed to start thawing and they fell into easier, more comfortable conversation. Two hours had passed, and it was only when the clock at his bedside indicated that it was nearly half three in the morning when Keanu heard Y/n yawn, a soft groan traveling through the line followed by and very sleepy, though absolutely adorable, “I’m tired.”

“I should let you get to sleep then,” Keanu chuckled. He was only just starting to feel the wear of the day past himself, and as it turned out, a lengthy chat with Y/n was just what he needed to loosen the tension in his shoulders.

“Mmm,” Y/n hummed, probably not even completely registering the words leaving her mouth, her mind in too much of a sleep deprived haze to keep up, “But I don’t want to,” she whined playfully. 

Truthfully, Keanu didn’t want her to either, but it was getting closer to four am and he didn’t want Y/n to spend too much of her time back home asleep, missing out on doing things with her aunt, and he was supposed to meet his sister the next morning too. “Well,” he worried on his lips for a moment, thinking some more, “Can we switch to Facetime?” 

Y/n hesitated for a minute, but eventually complied, “Sure,” she giggled, probably wondering where he was going with that. In just minutes, Keanu was looking at her, the image blurred from the darkness, though he could see that her hair was a little messy, less so than his, and she was wearing her pajamas, “What next?”

“Lay down,” he urged, easing on his own pillow and propping his phone on the bare spot next to him, watching intently as Y/n eventually followed suit, using a little stuffed animal and an extra pillow to keep her phone from falling. “Okay,” he sighed giddily when they were both set, “Now we can go to sleep together.” Keanu watched, smiling softly as Y/n dragged her lower lip through her teeth, before reaching over and fiddling with the sheets, “What are you doing?” He chortled, amused as he caught bits of the covers in the frame.

“Tucking you in,” she defended, adjusting the sheets again. Out of instinct, and definitely not by her request, Keanu started doing the same. By then, he didn’t need Y/n to mention something before he started mirroring her habits; chewing on his lip while he thought, circling the rim of his coffee mug with his finger, and now tucking his phone in. “Goodnight Keanu,” she managed between slow, sleepy blinks. 

“Goodnight Y/n,” he hummed, his own eyes heavy and slipping closed as Y/n finally succumbed to sleep, the call still on.

5 days later Coming in through the private terminal, Y/n knew that Keanu had adamant on picking her up, though she hadn’t expected to see him so soon, awaiting her just as she approached the escalator, struggling to carry her luggage. Squealing, she beamed as he pushed off the glass railing, approaching her quickly, only for Y/n to drop her bag and pull him into a tight hug. Through a deep inhale, she breathed his musky scent, reveling in the comfort of his arms. “I missed you,” she breathed into his neck as Keanu briefly lifted her off the floor. 

“I missed you too,” he grinned as he set her down, his hands still maintaining a firm hold on her waist. Just for a minute, Keanu started leaning down, about to kiss her, when he caught himself, realizing that they were already on the receiving end of some inquisitive stares, thinking better of it. Suddenly, the air between them felt clumsy and awkward, like it had before Y/n had left.

So nothing had changed.

Letting go of a nervous, silently pained breath, Y/n pulled away, a little upset when Keanu made no move to keep her to him. “Let me get this for you,” Keanu offered, grabbing the handle of her suitcase and easing her carry on off her shoulder.

“Thanks,” Y/n sighed, letting the space between them build naturally as they walked. The ride down turned out to be as uneventful as she’d expected, though the real drama came when she and Keanu were headed towards the exit. It had started slow and unwelcome, one pushy camera man at the first waiting area they passed, another two joining him as they walked. But eventually, somehow, they had multiplied,  and before long cameras were shuttering and being shoved in their faces, and while most of them just wanted her and Keanu to stop for pictures, some of the shoves came  with invasive questions. 

“Are you two dating?”

“How’s the movie coming along?”

“Are the rumors true?”

“Did you break-up with Luke for Keanu?”

They took it in stride, like two professionals who knew what they were doing, not for a minute entertaining the paparazzi as they bustled towards the automatic doors just up ahead. With everyone surrounding them though, the door seemed almost unreachable, and while Y/n had grown used to being bombarded by nosy paps who’d do anything in the name of the gig, she found it especially unbearable that day, especially since part of Y/n longed for the reassurance that she Keanu wasn’t going to give. If he wouldn’t take her hand on the beach, he certainly wasn’t going to do it when they were surrounded by cameras. 

Her breathing quickened and her heart thumped erratically against her ribs. She didn’t like that, not in the slightest. Even if Keanu was just a foot away, Y/n felt completely alone, as if she were the only receiver of those pushy, invasive questions, while Keanu, as always, looked perfectly unaffected, not uncomfortable in the slightest. Y/n wished that just for once, he could be as bothered as she was, care as much as she did. 

By the time they had left the building, two security guards had escorted them to his car, and it wasn’t until they were safely inside his Porsche, did Keanu lean over the consul in an attempt to kiss her. Y/n wasn’t willing to make it that easy though, he was fine when they were alone but avoided being with six inches of her in public, it couldn’t work like that, she wasn’t something that he could just play with when he was bored. So, instead of letting him near, Y/n pulled away, her head jerking back. “What’s wrong?” Keanu furrowed his brows with real concern. 

“You tell me,” Y/n’s lips pursed, and she stayed like that, huddled against the passenger door, "You're the one acting……"

"Acting like what?" Keanu stood his ground, shifting in his seat to face her properly. Y/n could tell he knew exactly what she was talking about, though wasn't as willing to admit it. 

"Like you don't want people to know about us," she folded her arms across her chest, imposing a physical barrier between them, unwilling to waver as much as Y/n knew Keanu wanted her to. 

"Come on Y/n," he chuckled humorlessly, his tongue quickly darting out to nervously moisten his lips, "You just got back, you really wanna do this now?" 

Y/n thought that Keanu almost sounded exasperated, still though, she pushed, "So I'm right?"

Shaking his head, his ran sticky fingers through his hair, disturbing its wind tousled neatness, "I never said that."

"You never say anything," emphasis lingered in the last word, "And you don't have to either, the way you act when we're out says enough."

When he reached out for her hand, Y/n pulled away, and if it were possible for her to recoil further into her seat, she might have, "Come on babe," Keanu sighed heavily, "You're blowing this out of proportion, you know how people will talk if they find out."

By then, stinging tears had gathered in her eyes, and Y/n knew that he was trying to downplay and dismiss her suspicions, and the worst part? It was working. She knew he was lying, the problem wasn't the press, the problem was him. It was them. But he was never going to want to talk about it. So instead, he'd sell her a lie, one she'd readily swallow if it meant she could keep him. "So you want us to just…….hide?"

"Just for a while," there he went with a another lie, "Maybe when you're older, or when we're in a better place," that time, when Keanu reached out, Y/n begrudgingly let him take her hand, relaxing ever so slightly when his thumb traced her knuckles, "I'm just trying to protect us. Protect you."

She didn't want to believe him, but she loved him. God, she loved him. Knowing full and well that he probably didn't love her back. And because of that she'd take whatever he sold as the truth, for as long as she could. Y/n would forgive the pain he'd cause and ignore the warnings. She'd do a lot, if only it meant that she could prolong the inevitable. 

"Okay," she breathed tearily, feeling the warmth slowly trickle down her cheeks. Reluctant at first, Y/n eventually let her resolve crumble as Keanu reeled her in.

"Come 'ere," he mumbled, Keanu's free hand tangling in her hair and his hold on her wrist loosening. "I missed you," he added quietly, laying his lips on his, in a salty, bittersweet welcome back. In unison, their mouths worked, and Y/n let her eyes slipped closed, tilting her head and cupping his neck. 

As they continued Y/n let the weight of Keanu's untruths sink in, hoping that like everything else, it would lighten as time wore on. 

*******

Tagging- @harrisongslimited​  @paanchu786​  @thesadvampire​  @fanficsrusz​  @fickensteinn​  @ladyreapermc​  @babygirltaina​  @septimaseverina​  @snatchedbylele​  @omg-imagine @21stcenturyyfoxx​  @magnificentclodpiebanana @allie1804-fan @keandrews  @greenmanalishi  @rdjloverxxx​  @danceoftwowolves​

[thesunnyshow]

Name: Juliet

Writing Blog URL(s): @wonderlustlucas

Nationality: American

Languages: English, beginner level French, teeny tiny bit of Korean

Star Sign: Virgo

MBTI: ISFJ-T

Favorite color: Pastel yellow

Favorite food: My mom’s Sunday gravy

Favorite movie: Howl’s Moving Castle (The Lion King is a close second though)

Favorite ice cream flavor: Specifically Turkey Hill’s Double Dunker (get it— it’s so good)

Favorite animal: Humpback whale

Go-to karaoke song: She’s Kinda Hot by 5 Seconds of Summer

Dream job (whether you have a job or not): Neurosurgeon! Or a Twitch streamer HAHA

Coffee or tea? What are you ordering?  Ahhh probably coffee, I love tea but I need my coffee </3

If you could have one superpower, what would you choose? Shapeshifting! Clearly the superior superpower I don’t take constructive criticism.

If you could visit a historical era, which would you choose? This is weirdly specific, but I would love to be in Scotland during the 1700’s. Alternatively, the 1980’s.

If you could restart your life, knowing what you do now, would you? 100%. I know everything happens for a reason but getting a redo and being able to fix all the big mistakes I made would be pretty nice.

Would you rather fight 100 chicken-sized horses or one horse-sized chicken? One horse-sized chicken! 100 tiny horses would be crazy tiring.

If you were a trope in a teen high school movie, what would you have been? I would probably be the gay side character that gives good emotional advice but is hella lonely LMAO

Do you believe in aliens/supernatural creatures? Yes, both!

What are some small things that make your day better? Driving with the windows down and music blasting, picking up coffee, playing video games, & talking to my internet friends on Discord.

Fun fact about yourself that not everyone would know? I discovered my love for writing through Warrior Cats roleplay😭

What fandom(s) do you write for? Right now, only Kpop, but I wouldn’t mind writing for 5SOS or some of my other fandoms!

When did you post your first piece? On WattPad, December 2015. On Tumblr, April 2018 :)

Do you write fluff/angst/crack/general/smut, combo, etc? Why? I write everything! Fluff/smut/crack is my favorite and slight angst (usually just slow burn though cus I’m soft).

Do you write OCs, X Readers, Ships...etc? Again, I write anything and everything! Currently, second or third person reader inserts are my main style, but I also do ships and would love to write more OCs.

Why did you decide to write for Tumblr? Before Tumblr, I was on WattPad for different fandoms but eventually fell off. Then, when I got into Kpop in 2017, I found that urge to write again and decided to move to Tumblr since WattPad was becoming… weird. Plus Tumblr was a better fit for me!

What inspires you to write? To be completely honest, it’s the little things throughout the day that inspire me. For example, “Honey” was inspired by me not being able to open my locker in high school. “I Hemoglobin You” was based off my friend giving me a head rub while I was donating blood. Kpop idols just so happen to be my muses that I like to put into random moments of inspiration!

What genres/AUs do you enjoy writing the most? High school or college AUs are my favorite, along with some good ol’ friends to lovers slow burn. Angst isn’t my forte so I usually just stick to fluff, smut, and some crack. I haven’t written any but fantasy AUs are some of my favorites too! (RIP to my League of Legends AU that I started and haven’t touched in months.)

What do you hope your readers take away from your work? Just like other fanfiction authors inspire me, I hope some of my work inspires others. Considering fanfiction is free, there is so much out there to read and when I find a good story that inspires ME to write better, I’d love for my writing to do the same.

What do you do when you hit a rough spot creatively? 3 options: 1) Skip that scene and jump ahead to one I’m excited to write; 2) Erase what part I’m on and completely redo it; or 3) Drop it. The majority of my works usually take a few months to write as I will completely stop working on it until I find the right inspiration again. 

What is your favorite work and why? Your most successful? “Four” is definitely my favorite work. It’s one of my longer pieces and there was a lot of raw emotion in there on my end. I love the relationship between Hyunjin and the reader and especially love the ending. “Greatest Gift” for Chanyeol is my most successful, and one of my other favorites!

Who is your favorite person to write about? Easily Hwang Hyunjin. It’s so easy to place him in any of my works, and sometimes it’s a struggle to NOT write him. It sounds stupid but sometimes I really feel like I “know” him so being able to describe him physically and mentally is easy for me.

Do you think there’s a difference between writing fanfiction vs. completely original prose? Yes and no. Yes, because most of the time, fanfiction is totally original as well and requires just as much thought as a 400,000 word novel. No, because fanfiction uses a specific person as a muse.

What do you think makes a good story? Detail and realistic dialogue! Of course, everyone has their own style of writing, but detail is especially important to me. Sure, you can have a great plot, but having concise, detailed writing to get immersed into makes a story so much better. I also find realistic dialogue to be a big deal— I hate when teenage characters are speaking in deep analogies because, if we’re being honest, my daily language is 95% just “Bruh.” If you’re like me, I’d actually prefer realistic dialogue over anything else.

What is your writing process like? Process… yikes. Sometimes… I have a random thought and then I’m like… hell yeah let’s write that. I actually have no process. I don’t outline, I just start writing and keep writing until I’m finished. Then I’ll read it all over to make edits, then I’ll use the Read Aloud feature to catch any mistakes I missed, then I’ll run it through Grammarly before posting!

Would you ever repurpose a fic into a completely original story? Hm, maybe? In the future, possibly, but as of right now I wouldn’t use any of my fics to do so.

What tropes do you love, and what tropes can’t you stand? Oh, gosh, tropes. Gotta love them. Friends to lovers, enemies to lovers, stuck together (AKA forced to share a bed), and fake relationships are my favorites. They may be corny, but I also love truth or dare or 7 minutes in heaven games in fics cus… they’re just classics. Also love fics with a popular x shy pairing. I can’t say I dislike many tropes, but I definitely have a love/hate relationship with vampire and werewolf tropes because of how romanticized they are.

How much would you say audience feedback/engagement means to you? Hm, to be completely honest, only a little bit? I mainly write for myself, it’s like a guilty pleasure to just get all my thoughts and desires out, and then I just so happen to make it public on Tumblr. Nevertheless, receiving comments and asks actually make my day, and sometimes I still struggle to wrap my mind around people enjoying my writing! So, thank you to everyone who has ever left me a kind message, I truly appreciate it ♥

What has been one of the biggest factors of your success (of any size)? Getting involved! I think one of the best ways to grow is to join networks, which not only gives you the opportunity to share your work on a greater scale, but also allows you to make connections. Like real life, making connections and making friendships with other writers can play a huge role in growing as a writer and growing your account.

Do you think fanfic writers get unfairly judged? Yes :( As someone who’s involved with other fandoms, I’ve heard the way some people think of fanfiction and it’s really sad. People do not know how much goes into writing and just see it as cringey and disgusting when it’s just… not.

Do you think art can be a medium for change? Yes! In all its forms, art is something a creator can use to influence their audience (in a good way, hopefully).

Do you ever feel there are times when you’re writing for others, rather than yourself? Like I said in #40, I mainly write for myself. Even when I’m writing a request, chances are if I like the request enough I’m going to create a story out of it that fits my personal desires the most.

Do you ever feel like people have misunderstood you or your writing at times?  No! However, I’d still consider myself a small account and do not have TOO many works posted. But so far, I don’t think I’ve faced this problem :)

Do your offline friends/loved ones know you write for Tumblr? Only a few! My best friend Maggie is on Tumblr with me and only 2 of my other pals know I write fanfiction.

What is one thing you wish you could tell your followers? How much I love each and every one of them for supporting me and sticking around even when I won’t post for months🥺❤️

Do you have any advice for aspiring writers who might be too scared to put themselves out there? Don’t psych yourself out! In the time I’ve spent on Tumblr, I’ve never received any substantial hate. My main advice is don’t write fanfiction to get popular on the app, write fanfiction because you love to write and love your muses!

Are there any times when you regret joining Tumblr? No, as much as Tumblr can be annoying at times, I love the people I’ve met and the content I’ve found and wouldn’t have wanted to use any other platform.

Do you have any mutuals who have been particularly formative/supportive in your Tumblr journey? @pinktea99 — Mo, you’ve been around since the beginning honestly, and without you I wouldn’t have been able to come out of my shell! Thank you for all your love & support & for being my SF9 buddy❤️

Pick a quote to end your interview with: 

“Like mate, stop procrastinating.” — 3RACHA

BONUS ROUND: K-POP CONFIDENTIAL 

[fanatic-kay]

Don’t Judge A Book By Its Cover

Pairings: Pre-romantic Prinxiety, brothers!analogicality Word Count: 1535 Rating: General Audiences Summary: Roman works at the Disney store when a shady looking person walks in.

Read on AO3 Here!

Roman Prince loved his job. Sure, the work of retail could be especially tedious at times, but at the end of the day, it was worth it. As long as he could see the young children coming in, eyes full of stars, as they tried to comprehend the overload of Disney paraphernalia staring back at them. How they would jump up and down, tugging at their parent’s sleeve before running towards something that caught their attention. How their older siblings, usually teenagers, would pretend to act cool or annoyed since they were ‘too old for this stuff’, but even they would let their inner child shine through as they perused through the racks. Sometimes they even got adults, never letting the Disney spirit die, excited to shop for themselves. No matter how old you got, everyone could relate to the excitement Disney lit in your soul. Well… almost everyone.

It was his turn to stock shelves, not that Roman minded. He was mostly left to his own devices, singing along with the music playing overhead, but sometimes a lost child or confused parent would ask him for the location of specific items.

“Thank you!” A charming young girl gushed at him as he handed her something from the top shelf.

“Of course, princess! Have a magical day!” Roman smiled, waving goodbye. He turned to return to his work, and that’s when he saw him.

Really, Roman wasn’t sure how he didn’t notice him walk in. The boy stood out like a sore thumb. Between all of the colors and happiness, he seemed to exude angst, wearing all black, like some sort of… emo nightmare. It was a punk, bad boy look. He would’ve been described as attractive by some. Roman couldn’t help but be suspicious, watching the other’s moves like a hawk. He knows he shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, Beauty and the Beast taught him that, but something about him was giving Roman a feeling he couldn’t quite shake.

He subtly watched him look around as if he were searching for something. He picked up a Lion King t-shirt, surveying it before placing it back down. His eyes, a deep brown, almost black, scanned his surroundings. His hair was dyed purple, and an eyebrow piercing glinted in the store lighting. Paired with his ripped black skinny jeans, studded leather jacket, and steel-toed combat boots, he seemed to be the depiction of ‘troublemaker’. Maybe he was trying to steal something? There was no other obvious explanation to his shifty demeanor.

Roman tried to focus back on his task while glancing at the hypothetical thief every few seconds. However, he must’ve not been as observant as he thought, as he nearly jumped out of his skin when someone cleared their throat behind him. He bit back a string of profanities when he realized it was the boy he had been watching earlier.

He mustered up his customer service smile, the one he used when he was dealing with a dragon witch of a Karen that demanded to speak with his manager, and in his best false cheer said, “Hello! Do you need any help?”

The emo raised an eyebrow unimpressed, “No, I just wanted to get your attention for the hell of it,” he snarked.

Roman immediately dropped the niceties. “You know, Hot Topic is just three stores down,” he gave him a once over, “they’re probably a bit more your style.”

“I have eyes, I can see where I am,” the other shot back. “I was just wondering if you had any Black Cauldron merch in here.”

Roman blinked, trying to process his question for a count of three before shaking his head slowly, “No, we don’t.”

He scoffed, “Figures, it’s one of the most underrated Disney movies of all time, even if it is the best.”

“Yeah,” Roman nods, “it’s a shame it doesn’t have a bigger fanbase.”

Out of nowhere, two boys, twins, Roman realized, sporting matching glasses, appeared. One attacked the emo’s middle and the other let out a long, sufferable sigh at the action. He took that as his cue to resume his restocking, involuntarily listening in to their conversation.

“Virgie! Look! I found the Winnie the Pooh stuffie! And Lo-Lo got a Baymax one!” one exclaimed. He was the complete opposite of his- older brother, presumably- dressed in a soft, pastel sweatshirt and a knee-length skirt. He pushed the stuffed bear up for him to see.

“Virgil can see that, Pat,” his twin stated. Despite the fact of being so little, he wore a collared shirt and blue necktie, like a mini businessman, though there was a light of excitement in his eyes too as he hugged his own plushie.

Virgil laughed lightly, “Patton’s just excited, let him be, Logan,” he ruffled Patton’s hair as he continued. “And it’s great, Pat. Are you both happy with what you found?” The twins nodded enthusiastically.

“Did you find what you wanted?” Lo asked, both looking up at their brother with large, expecting eyes.

“Uh, no, no Black Cauldron stuff here,” he replied, a hint of disappointment in his voice.

Patton’s shoulders slumped, “No Gurgi or Hen Wen?” he asked, sounding so upset, as if he was the one who longed for the merch instead of his brother.

Roman felt his heart drop, he did take this job to see the smiles of kids- and the discounted Disney items- but mostly the smiles.

“It’s alright, kid,” Virgil gave him a half-hearted smile. “I’ll just get something else. Maybe a Nightmare Before Christmas poster.” Patton, however, seemed unconvinced.

Roman could sense Virgil’s gaze on the wall of posters behind him. He subtly tried to follow his gaze and saw it land on the matching posters of Jack Skellington and Sally. They were limited edition, Virgil obviously had good taste. All of the posters were almost sold out, the shelf where they had been, empty. Roman had managed to nab the last one, placing it in one of his boxes to purchase once he got off of work. Was it fair? Not really. But he had wanted them really bad! They would look perfect on his wall!

Virgil chuckled humorlessly to himself, patting the space where the item would have been. “Or not.” Patton looked as if he was about to cry, clinging to Virgil’s legs. Even Logan looked mildly upset by the outcome.

At that moment, Roman realized he had royally messed up. Virgil wasn’t trying to cause trouble. He, like most everyone else, grew up with Disney and was sharing the magic with his younger brothers. He should’ve known better than to judge him by appearance. Disney was never wrong in their teachings. He made the split-second decision to help make the twins smile, and perhaps even give a proper apology to Virgil.

“I’d hate to interrupt,” Roman started, ignoring the questioning look Virgil sent him, as he crouched down to address Patton. “But did you say you liked Gurgi?”

Patton looked at him with his big sad eyes, sniffling before nodding.

“Well, we don’t have any Gurgi plushies, but,” Roman pretended to tap his chin thoughtfully before brightening as if an idea had struck him. He searched through one of the boxes he had still yet to stock, and in his, rusty, but decent Gurgi impression he said, “Munchings and crunchings in here somewhere.” This got a small giggle out of Patton, even his twin seemed to brighten at the quote. They both tried to peer over Roman’s shoulder to see what he was getting, but he blocked the view.

He grabbed the poster he had put away for safekeeping. He supposed there would always be new posters he could buy later on. He dramatically turned on his heel in his crouched position. He pulled the rolled tube into view as if he were unsheathing a sword and held it out to the twins with both hands.

Patton gasped in delight before looking down a bit confused, his enthusiasm ever-present. Logan, however, smiled in recognition. “Virge, it’s the poster!”

Roman looked up to meet Virgil’s eyes with a small smile, standing up and offering it to him. “Lucky for you, it's the last one. Worthy for a dark and stormy knight like yourself.”

Virgil’s gaze softened considerably at Roman though he rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. “If I’m the knight who’s the prince?”

He opened his mouth to speak, about to gesture to the twins when Patton beat him to it. “He is, silly!”

Virgil and Roman both widened their eyes, fighting blushes, realizing the implications of the statement. Virgil wouldn’t meet Roman’s eyes as the employee tried to remedy the situation. “I- I mean, I won’t deny that I’m a prince, but I was talking about you little princes right in front of me.”

Patton and Logan both grinned at that, as Virgil cleared his throat. “We should get going, Mom will be calling soon,” he said, rounding up his brothers and pushing them to the direction of the checkout lines. He looked over his shoulder, sending Roman a crooked smirk. “Thanks for the posters, Princey.”

Roman swore his heart skipped a beat. “You’re welcome.”

Taglist: @starry-knight-skies @space-captain-lars @viana-dascolli @wistful-wish

[taeguboi]

🔀Shuffle Game🔀 Request 01

Hey! Could u do 🔀 6 with Namjoon please? Thank u in advance :)

🔀 Drop a number + BTS member(s) in my ask box 🔀

Request: 6 + Namjoon Song: EIGHT by IU & Suga Theme: Angst // Lockdown

Fiction Masterlist

On Hold, Hold On

On hold. Every little thing is on hold. Plans, life… even love to an extent. On hold from work, on hold on the phone, on hold with your plans to move in with your boyfriend. So there you sit, same shit, different day, feeling increasingly distanced from the world as you knew it.

You used to get so frustrated at how there was never enough time to stop and contemplate life, but now… it’s scary how unaccomplished you feel, how you’ve barely achieved any of those goals you had as a teenager… That was nice, that age where you could make memories and carefully plan new ones…

Reminiscing and ignoring the world outside had become your mindset over the past couple of months, particularly over the past week in which you had been ignoring phone calls and not responding much to texts. A certain sense of fear had overcome you in a roundabout way to communicate with your boyfriend. It hurts more and more with every day that you can’t see him, so your brain seems to have gone into some sort of shut down mode whenever he reaches out to you.

Everything was planned out so perfectly. You had finally bagged a job you were happy in and a partner with whom you could share your best and worst moments. This has become the ultimate test, trying to break you with every second that passes. You’ve resorted to reruns of old tv shows that you used to watch with childhood and school friends, reading back on old diary entries of your college years and watching back on your old social media uploads of getting drunk or going on holiday or just being nuts for the sake of it.

This distance from your boyfriend feels like it is lasting forever with no end in sight. Some days you wake up and can’t even remember what he feels like to hug, the scent you would breathe in when in his arms… His voice is only just about a solid memory in your head. You’ve never been more disheartened in your life. Nothing is happening. You feel… so empty.

Without wanting to admit it to yourself, this is the time you need him the most… But you find that everything you do lately is just a sad attempt to push him away… Why?

Namjoon: Morning my lovely :)

Your heart continues to sink at the morning greeting presented in text, not in person. With every text he sends you, the more you’re longing to be by his side and so the more you try to distract yourself every time just so that it might hurt less.

You: Morning :)

Closed answers are often your responses to him as of late; you’re afraid of the conversations about your life and plans and all the rest. It’s getting too depressing now. You wince at the conversations about available houses or flats because there’s no signal that your time apart will end and it feels like your efforts on saving money up are wasted. You feel your heart beat faster every time on a phone call, he wants to look back on a particular time you had together because you’re devastated that that still can’t be you right now, living in the moment, making memories.

Namjoon: How are you?

You: Okay I guess. You?

You wonder how long it will take for him to notice your decrease in enthusiasm for the relationship that you’ve become to fearful to think about. You want to snap out of it, knowing how ridiculous it must seem to feel so fragile and delicate about life. But you can’t. All you want to do when you’re texting him is go do something else. Not because you don’t love him but because it hurts to love someone you can’t see.

Namjoon: I’m alright too, thanks. Wanna call?

You let out an exasperated sigh whilst lounging around on the couch, knowing that you can’t avoid this forever; you had rejected his suggestions to have a phone call for the past few days armed with one excuse or another.

You: Sure

The minute you answer his call, you vividly memorise everything you know about him. You think about his favourite spot in his house and how he’s probably sitting there right now just to talk to you with the book he was probably reading discarded at his side to have his attention on your voice.

“Hey” you utter.

“Hey sweetheart… it’s been a few days” he nervously chuckles from the other end of the line. 

“Yeah, I suppose it has… Sorry about that” you reply.

Yesterday you told him how much of a nightmare it was to get the weekly shop in as you scrambled your cupboard which barely held anything in there. The day before that you told him you were going for a long walk to embrace the nature when after you had sent that message, you just sat at home all day. The day before that… well it all goes similarly really. Different excuse, same reason.

“How are you doing? I mean, really. You seem a bit off lately” he says, making you feel low. Like you had already expected, you knew at some point he was going to pick up on your behaviour change.

You struggle to find a proper response, just babbling nervously about how busy you’ve managed to make your life.

“Oh, well you know how it is. You look for something to do, can’t find anything, then several things come at once” you lie. “Like buses” you jest to make light of the conversation, still feeling the need to keep up appearances.

Namjoon chuckles at your flustered reply. 

“It’s okay to be feeling a little down, y/n. Talk to me” he tells you. Wow, he really does know you well, you think to yourself. As far as you’re concerned, you hadn’t let out one clear signal that something is up, yet he just knows.

You let out a sigh to prepare yourself as you feel a pent up storm coming on.

“I’m just fed up I guess”

“I miss you too hun”

Those words bring a stinging sensation to your eyes. You miss him too, but you’ve been having a hard time admitting that out loud. All you’ve felt like you can do it hide from it all until this all blows over. Time is very powerful though.

“I hate this so badly” you admit, bringing your forehead into your hand before brushing back your hair in frustration. “I just wanted so badly to start a life with you and have our own place and… It’s been so long; it’s starting to feel like a wasted effort, what, with both our jobs on hold and only reduced pay as an income and that might not even hold out as long as this…”

“I know things aren’t quite working out as we had hoped but… we’ll get there soon, yeah?” he tries to assure you, but you’re feeling so pessimistic that you can’t seem to accept this.

“But we aren’t there now, as we should have been!” you exclaim almost with a sob. “Right now, we would have already found our perfect first place together and have all the time for us we could ever wish for… I feel so lost. It’s kind of rocking my world.”

“It’s not ideal, I know but… let’s not dwell on the present yeah? Let’s try to remain positive and take every day as it comes…”

“It’s not quite feeling that easy right now” you huff. “I just want to go back to when things felt simpler, you know. Okay, I mean, they weren’t simple but… How do I explain? It’s like having a more complicated life with important things to focus on actually made life easier. It certainly made it easier to live with my mind. I’m going nuts here Joon”

“We’re all on the same boat my lovely” he continues, still trying to sway you another way with your mental state. “We have to make the best out of a tough situation; the past will never come back to us, so we have to play the hand we’ve been dealt, you know?”

A part of you knows your boyfriend is speaking perfect sense. Another part of you still can’t shirk this feeling off though of hopelessness and feeling like you’re living a life without purpose or ambition. He’s got such a brilliant mind and his way with words is so amazing that he doubles up as a therapist as well as the best boyfriend you’ve ever had… Even his words of logic are making you pine for him even more.

“I guess I wish I had a winning card up my sleeve to cheat this thing” you sigh, using Namjoon’s little card analogy.

“We all have to lose before we win” he bluntly responds, being correct again.

“Don’t you just wish you could be like younger right now though? I bet none of the kids around here are exactly complaining that they don’t have to get dressed in clothes they despise every day to listen to teacher that talk about things they aren’t interested in…”

“Maybe you should also consider though that those kids do enjoy certain aspects of it all though, such as seeing their friends and going to their after school clubs… Everyone has something to miss right now.”

Maybe you are dwelling too much, playing the martyr or something. Everybody is experiencing the same dilemmas right now. Everybody else has been stopped from seeing people they love. Everybody has had to put their plans and their worlds on hold too… You never stopped to consider that there are also many people who have it a lot worse than you do.

“Am I being selfish Joon?” you question following your little epiphany.

“Of course not, dear! Sure, there are people a lot more directly affected right now, but… you haven’t experienced those things so this is allowed to be a big deal to you because this is the worst you know or can imagine”

Strangely, you found yourself feeling… better? Some aspects are starting to be put into perspective for you. Not everything, but it’s something.

“I just don’t want to look back on my time being this age as someone who was only fatigued and fed up… I think that’s why I do the dwelling on the past thing” you admit, opening up some more.

“And that’s exactly why we need to make the most of it… How about we start by thinking of ways we could do the things we used to do together without actually being together in person?”

“You mean just video call each other whilst we eat? Isn’t that a bit weird?” you laugh.

“Okay, maybe not that…” he hums. “But you know, maybe we could occasionally share what we’re up to… Maybe you could take me around the park the next time you go?”

It’s actually not a bad idea. Every time you’ve been out for your daily walk, if you do even go on one, you have always missed that element of conversation or just someone else’s presence around. A couple of days back actually, you had seen some wonderful things because of the time of year and wouldn’t it actually be so much better if you had someone to share that with?

“Hey, don’t put yourself down because you didn’t get to do something you wanted to… Whether that’s our plans to live together or that you didn’t do the laundry today.”

“Wait, how did you know I haven’t done that yet?” you giggle.

“Just an example, love… wild coincidence” he chuckles back. 

“Try not to let it get you down when sometimes you build something up only for it to be broken down my love… Live in the here and now so that you can look back on these times almost as fondly as you look back on before”

Your smile extends from cheek to cheek. It might take some healing, but you can do this; you have Namjoon.

A/N: Sorry if I didn’t quite capture the essence of the song... in my defence, it’s only been out for like 2 days haha. Hope everyone is keeping well x

Fiction Masterlist

[sweetsmalldog]

My Masterpost

City Life AU masterpost/Timeline

The Horrors of Staying Alive masterpost

City Of Spirits Masterpost

Opposites Attract Masterpost

Science Experiment au (TGWDLM kinda what it says on the tin)

Science Experiment pt 1

Science Experiment pt 2

Science Experiment pt 3

Science Experiment pt 4

Welcome To Hogwarts (Spies are Forever)

Welcome to Hogwarts pt 1

Welcome to Hogwarts pt 2

Welcome to Hogwarts pt 3

Finding the Lost (SaF) (Urban Fantasy meets Noir)

Finding the Lost pt 1

Finding the Lost pt 2

Finding the Lost pt 3

Finding the Lost pt 4

Finding the Lost pt 5

Finding the Los pt 6

DND AU (SaF)

The Little Things (Curtwen)

Legends Lead pt 1

Legends Lead pt 2

Legends Lead pt 3

Jazzalil one-shots

Unexpected Miricles

Curtwen one-shots

Why me

Secrets Kept Close

Confessions of a Sleepless Man

Why must you defend whose who will scorn you, my love?

Inseparable

Two Sides of the Same Coin (Necromancer and Healer Au)

You Must Admit

Flirting

Timer

On Christmas

Too Far Gone

Other SaF one-shots

Tati and Barb domestic cuteness

Tati and Barb lab cuteness

Wild West Au (Paulkins)

Trials of the West

The First Trial

Paulkins One-shots

Paulkins prompt: Huffy Emma wants cuddles

Paulkins prompt: Angst

One Day We’ll be Free (Fluff 1900s Au)

Alone

So Close (sequel to Alone)

Awkward Encounter

A child’s innocence

New Years

No One Better

Carolers

Live On

Chai Coffee One-shots

Are You Sure?

Scene Rewrite: The Breakroom

Happy Halloween

A Late Night Conversation

A Normal Day

Encouraging Teenage Rebellion

Red, Rock, and Romance

Midnight Admittance

Fallen Complements

A Change in Planes

Christmas decorations

Hot Chocolate

Needy

Celebration

Eggnog

A Broken Hallelujah

Other TGWDLM One-shots

Tedgens prompt: Carbs and alcohol

Tedgens: Movie night

Alice and Deb are cuties

Workin Boys: One-Shot

Tedgens: Horror Movie Rage

Potseed: Disney

Potseed: Disney pt 2

Party Time

Bill/Paul: The Most Important Present

Firebringer One-shots

Then Leave

Starship One-shots

Junior and Bug: Regret

Solve It Squad One-shots

Solve it Squad prompt: The Solve it Squad says Trans Rights

We Fall Apart

Solve it Squad prompt: It’s to early Keith

Silent Rage

Prompt: Scrags parents aren’t the only ones they want to murder

You Messed With the Wrong Family (Sander sides) Complete

You Messed With the Wrong Family pt 1

You Messed With the Wrong Family pt 2

You Messed With the Wrong Family pt 3

You Messed With the Wrong Family pt 4 (final)

Sander Sides One-shot

Unnecessary

Logan and Deceit talk

Moxeity cuteness

Analogical: Trust

LAMP softness

Logicality: The Simplest of Gifts

[breadoffoxy]

Changing Tides | 3

Summary: At a young age you thought you had your life all figured out. You would marry your crush and become a world renown artist. It was perfect. That is until a childhood friend, your clumsy cousin, an intimidating rival, a nosy neighbor, an art prodigy, a beautiful dancer and a perfectionist workaholic destroyed those plans for better or for worse.

Pairing: some f. reader x Hoseok, f. reader x Jungkook, and f. reader x Jimin

Genre: Slice of Life, awkward teenage years to college au, eventual romance, angst, fluff

Word Count: 1,535

Warnings: Mentions of arguing parents and divorce

Prev | Next

“Hurry up slow-poke!”

“Shut up you stupid muscle bunny!” You grunt under the stain of your one box as you slowly trudge through the doorway. Ahead of you is said muscle bunny carrying two heavy boxes with ease towards the moving truck. His white shirt is wet with some sweat but that only makes the back muscles you pretend not to notice clearer.

“Here let me help.”

Hands reach towards the box in your hands. Even though the person is blocked from your vision you know that voice and clumsily try to dodge out of his way.

“No way Joon, this is a delicate box!”

A sigh of defeat is all you hear. Even he can’t deny his powers of destruction as he already destroyed a vase. It was ugly as hell but both of your parents argued over it. Good riddance you say.

“Why don’t you get the car playlist ready?” If there’s one thing you can trust your cousin with it’s that.

“On it.” Namjoon pulls out his bulky new mp3 player he spent forever saving up for as he heads for the shaded porch. He’s discussed to you the finer points of what he thinks of digital versus analog but the large portable music library has its plus.

The box you are carrying disappears and you see your childhood friend carefully organizing it into the back of the truck. “That should be it right?”

“Yeah, that should be it. I’m just going to double check my room really quick.”

The boy smiles at you, and all of a sudden it hits you. You won’t be able to see that smile nearly as much anymore. Just a few weekends here and there when you have to be swapped between your parents. You can feel your eyes getting watery as you try to commit the boy who turned into a young man in front of your eyes to memory. You made plans for how the two of you would rule your new high school but all of that is for naught now. From his sweet smile that coined his bunny nickname, to the glitter in his eyes, and even that small scar on his cheek, you want to remember it all.

The smile Jungkook wears slowly slides away and his gaze turns to one of concern. Oh god you promised yourself you wouldn’t cry. You quickly plaster a smile on your face.

“Why don’t you help Namjoon out with some music?” Jungkook glances between you and your cousin a couple of times. The concerned look is still there. You can tell he’s torn between hanging out with your cousin who he idolizes and figuring you out, which you know he can do too easily.

As if sensing your plight or just being completely oblivious to the air around you, Namjoon yells across the yard, “Hey Jungkook, have you heard the new Drake song?”

And that hits the nail on the head and Jungkook’s eyes sweep back to your cousin excitedly. You’re a little jealous how quickly the two bonded over music as it was yours and your cousin’s thing, but you’re happier that it helped the shy boy out of his shell a little. Namjoon wasn’t a bad role model as long as you didn’t sneak through his computer. Your eyes will never be the same after that.

“It’s so good I can’t believe it!” He jogs over to Namjoon and your smile turns real for a little bit as you watch him.

Quickly, you head inside and your face goes into a neutral expression as you pass the defeated form of your father in the entry way. He didn’t take the divorce well. You don’t blame him but you also don’t have much sympathy either. The whole process deteriorated your relationship as a side of him came out that was hostile and demeaning.

“Hey Kiddo.” You stop in your tracks and turn to look at him. He hugs your tense form barely for a second before stepping back. “Take care of yourself. Call me if you need anything.”

And that’s that. He walks away into the hallway leading to his office and doesn’t look back. The hurt that strikes you shocks you and you dash towards your room. The tears slowly come at first and once you’re in your room the tears come flooding down. Your hand comes up to your mouth to muffle the tiny sobs as you cry at the things that were. Fifteen years you have spent in this house with both of your parents, with this room as yours, and now it is devoid of what makes it you. Just your bed and a couple decorations remain. There’s no telling how long your dad will leave it as is and not refurnish it to his own purposes.

The tears eventually slow, and through your sniffles you spot something peeking behind your desk. Lethargically, you move across the room and kneel down to get a better look.

“Now how did you get down here?”

Wedged between the wall and your desk is one of your old sketchbooks. A few of the pages are bent at awkward angles. You stick your hand behind the desk but have a hard time reaching it. Determined to get it you crawl around trying to get into the best position and stretch your arm as far as it can go.

“Aha!” Your fingers finally grasp the edge of the book. The victory sound turns to a grumble as it barely moves when you pull it. And then something that feels like a hand slaps against your butt, which makes your head canter into the desk with a thunk.

“Hahaha…Oh my god I’m so sorry!” Jungkook’s laughter morphs into an apology after hearing your yell of pain. Your eyes are shut from the surprise of what just happened but you feel him kneel down next to you. His fingers probe at your head carefully.

“Can you just move the table back a little bit?”

Quickly he stands up and does as you ask. You pull the artbook out easily and scoot back until you reach the corner of your room. Curling into yourself slightly you finally open your eyes and glance at the once again concerned looking Jungkook hovering over you.  You pat the ground next to you and Jungkook sits with his knees just slightly bumping yours.

“Your spending too much time with Namjoon. Don’t go breaking me now.”

“Never.”

Glancing over to the boy, you find his gaze immediately. It’s too heavy and it feels like your drowning in his brown eyes. Emotions rise up which nearly trigger the water works again. You close your eyes and take a deep breath to try to get some control. You hate how much you will miss him.

A weight falls on your shoulder and you tense slightly before relaxing. You open your eyes back up to see Jungkook’s head resting there as he carefully takes the sketchbook from you. Slowly he flips through the pages and the nostalgia hits you. Along with the feeling every artist gets.

“Ahh these are worse than I remember. I was so bad.”

Jungkook continues to flip through the pages. “Yeah, you’re a lot better now, but for a kid these were pretty good.”

The pages stop turning as it comes to a familiar self portrait of yourself. With the lightest touch Jungkook traces a finger along the drawing of a smiling you with headphones.

“This one is still my favorite.”

“Haha and I say it’s still the worst.”

Before Jungkook could refute you, you snatch the notebook back.

“Hey, I’m not done- whoah no stop!”

Jungkook head rises quickly from your shoulder and tries to stop you from ripping the page out. He scrambles on all fours to try when you just turn to stop him but it’s too late. The boy freezes with his eyes wide and mouth open. What you did was just blasphemy.

“Take it since you like it so much.” You smile sadly as you hand it to your friend. He takes it as if you just handed him the most precious artifact and still looks as if he is in shock. “It can be my good-bye present, or I guess more like a see you later?”

Gently, Jungkook places the picture on the ground next to him and the next thing you know, strong arms are pulling you into him. You wrap your arms around him and the both of you can feel each other shaking. You can feel something wet drop on the crook of your neck where his head rests, and you know he can feel the same as well.

Namjoon awkwardly hovers at the door unsure of what to do. Sadly, he watches the scene in front of him. Outside your window he can see the forms of his mother and aunt waiting near the moving truck and car. His eyes shut to give the two of you a longer moment, but eventually he opens them and moves into the room.

“Sorry y/n, but it is time to go.”

Jungkook gives you a final tight squeeze and then slowly lets you go.

[today-only-happens-once]

an analogical parent au that nobody asked for

Disclaimer: this instance and insecurities that arise in these characters is not meant to be any kind of commentary on those who choose to put up for adoption nor on kids who are adopted. Nor on people who don’t choose to put up for adoption. 

Also this got crazy long so its below a cut lol. Warnings: adoption, closed adoption, putting up for adoption, massive insecurity, sort of one-sided arguing?, lots of angst.

Virgil became a single father at 17 years old and immediately put his son up for adoption because he was only a teenager, didn’t have a job and hadn’t graduated, and his parents had made it abundantly clear they wouldn’t be helping him with it

He didn’t know what kind of life he’d be able to offer his son and decided it was better to give him the chance that a family who could support and provide for him in ways he wouldn’t be able to would be better

And he was also terrified out of his mind at the idea of failing as a father. He was only 17 and had no support network. 

He did nothing but cry for five days after his son was gone.

His heart still gives a sharp squeeze when he thinks too long about it (every day of his life) but he knows it was the right call. He just hopes his son is happy and doing okay.

Fast-forward sixteen years. Virgil managed to scrape by and put himself through college after a few years gap. He graduated with a degree in graphic design. Against all odds, he managed to start a small business that is doing okay. It helped that he partnered with a couple of friends from college--Patton Foster and Roman Prince--and the three of them make a comfortable living for themselves.

Roman suggests, as demand continues to grow, maybe hiring some kind of intern. 

Virgil has to admit that it would be helpful, but he doesn’t really like interviewing people so he lets Patton be in charge of that because he’s more of a people person anyway.

Patton hires a young teenage kid named Logan. Virgil flips through the kid’s resume and has to admit that it’s quite impressive, especially for a student just in high school. His grades are impeccable. Virgil is all around impressed. Patton assures him that the kid will be a great fit. 

“He even looks a little like you, Virgil.”

Virgil nods and extends the offer to the kid the next day via phone call. Logan is surprisingly professional and composed when he accepts the job. 

Even Virgil can see a certain resemblance when the kid starts the following Monday afternoon. And Virgil really likes the kid. Sure, he can be a bit cold and blunt at times--and he continues to wear a collared shirt and blue tie even after Virgil tells him he can wear whatever he wants--but he’s sharp as a whip and his realistic outlook is a welcomed change of pace at times from Roman and Patton’s bright optimism and daydreaming. Except...

There’s something both familiar and unsettling about Logan to Virgil. Maybe its in the way that he’ll find Logan watching him closely but say nothing about it. Or maybe it’s the countless times that Logan will open his mouth to say something when its just the two of them working on some data or a design, only to close it and be silent a moment later.

They’re working late one Friday night when it comes up. Patton and Roman made a run for take-out and Logan had insisted he didn’t mind working late even though all three of them told him he could go home if he wanted. 

So it’s just Virgil and Logan in their studio and its quiet at first. Some music floating through as the sun dips below the horizon. Virgil can feel Logan’s quiet, careful gaze on his back as he sketches out a new design but he doesn’t say anything because he’s kind of use to the kid’s close gaze by now.

But then Logan says, “Mr. Shea, did you know that I was adopted?” 

The question surprises him, especially because Logan doesn’t usually actively initiate conversation about himself. Virgil keeps sketching and glances up. “I didn’t, Logan.” 

“It was a closed adoption.” Virgil sees Logan shove his hands into the pockets of his jeans. There’s something bright and angry in his eyes behind his glasses that catches Virgil off guard. “About sixteen years ago.”

Virgil freezes. 

He stares at the page, unseeing. Images of his son from sixteen years ago floods his mind and it takes every ounce of effort he has in his body to finally look up and meet Logan’s gaze. It can’t be.

Logan just shakes his head at Virgil’s silence. “My parents were never secretive about the fact that I was adopted. They loved me. They supported me. But in the back of my mind, I always wondered what was so wrong with me that my own birth parents wouldn’t want to keep me.” 

Virgil drops his pencil. “Wait, Logan--”

“No matter how much I achieved, how good my grades were, how many awards for science fairs and speech contests I won, I still wondered. And I hated that I wondered. Because my parents are good people. But my whole life I’ve been trying to prove myself to people who weren’t even there to see it.” 

Virgil’s chest is squeezing so hard it hurts but he’s silent because Logan’s gaze is fiery and furious. 

“I’m smart. I know I am. So I dug through records for a year until I found your name, looked you up, and color me surprised that you had started a business in the same city I lived in. And then, as luck would have it, you were hiring.” 

Virgil stands up from his stool and takes a step towards Logan. The flash in the teen’s eyes stops him dead in his tracks. “Logan--”

“I thought maybe I’d tell you during the interview, but you had Patton do it instead. And then...” Logan rakes a hand through his hair. “And then I started thinking that maybe things would make sense if I got to know you. So I continued to not say anything but I just... Mr. Shea, I have to know. I have to know why.”

And Virgil can feel his throat closing up because his son is standing right in front of him. He’d always wondered and worried about him, hoping he ended up with a good family, hoping he was happy and successful. And his kid? His kid is brilliant. He’s so incredibly smart, and grounded, and... 

And angry.

Virgil swallows hard past the lump in his throat and tries to explain. “Logan, I was seventeen when your mother gave birth to you. A week or so later, she stood on my front porch, pushed you into my arms with a diaper bag and left. Her parents made her move across the country, and I lost all contact with her. And my parents... they were going to kick me out if I kept you. I was a kid. I was scared. I didn’t have job, I didn’t have a diploma--”

“But you had me.”

Virgil can feel his eyes misting over a little but he just looks at his son imploringly. “But I couldn’t provide for you. You deserved a life better than that. Better than some teenage kid with no prospects and no real support network could give you. Putting you up for adoption wasn’t because I didn’t love you, it...” Virgil can feel his hands shaking and he shoves them into the pockets of his hoodie. “It was because I did. I wanted to give you the best shot of a good life as I could.”

And Logan... Logan isn’t saying anything and Virgil feels like a coward because he can’t look his son in the eyes. He just stares at Logan’s shoes that are rooted in the wooden floor. 

“I thought about you every single day, you know.” Virgil’s voice is thick but he keeps trying to fill the silence anyway. “Hoping you were okay. Hoping you were happy, and succeeding, and learning things. Hoping you had been given a support network that I didn’t have until many years later. I... I just... I missed you every single day for the rest of my life, but I know it was the right choice.” His eyes are burning a little and he finally looks up at Logan. “It... it was, right?” He hates that his voice breaks. 

And Logan... Logan is just staring at him with wide eyes and they look a little pained. “Yeah. Yeah, it... yeah.” He sighs and scrubs at his eyes under his glasses. “I think I need some air.” 

Virgil wants to call out to him but he does’t know what to say. He winces when the door slams shut behind him. 

That’s it, that’s all I got for now. Might add to this if I get inspiration?

[fireflysinmystomach]

Without Words

Summary: Soulmate au, where the first words your soulmate says to you are tattooed on your skin but Virgil does not have any words on him.

Pairings: Analogical, Moxiety, mentions of  Logince

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Angst and some Fluff

Warnings: light swearing, self-deprecation, negative thinking, crying, brief mention of scars and disabillity 

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

In this world, everyone has a soulmate. Everyone except Virgil.

You see, he is not like everyone else. He was not born with the soul mark promising that somewhere in this big, uncaring world, there is a person that fits just right. Someone that completes you and brings warmth and happiness. A compliment to your soul.

Maybe Virgil simply has no soul. How else could you explain the lack of words on his skin, that were supposed to be there from birth. The first words his soulmate would say to him should be permanently engraved on his body somewhere, but there were none, therefore he was doomed to be alone for all eternity and the only reason he could think of, why he deserved such a fate, was an absence of a soul.

His parents and friends tried to convince him otherwise, Virgil was not a bad person after all. He was not cruel or mean, maybe a little shy but other than that a normal human being.

On the other hand, even really bad people, like murders had soul marks. Why was he different? He didn't want to be.

Since he learned to write, he developed the habit of  creating his own soul mark, write sweet greetings on his wrist and pretend that they have been there since the start. He always cried, when he watched them fade under the relentless water from his shower. Do you know this feeling, when you wake up in the morning, your head still fuzzy from when you drowned your common sense in alcohol the night before and stumble into the bathroom, only to find a picture or some nonsense on your skin? You scrub until the spot turns red and aches and all the while you pray that it is not a permanent mistake? Well, Virgil felt like this every time he steps into the shower, but in reverse.

Until he was about 14, every night as he stood naked in front of his mirror, he desperately wished for the words to appear. Maybe they were just really small and he had previously overlooked them?  He wanted to be a part of this world, wanted to dream about how his soul mate would be, theorize how they would meet and ultimately be happy. But no, his skin stayed unmarked.

He couldn't tell how often he cried because of it any more, forgot how often he rushed to a window whenever there was a rainbow outside or a shooting star or anything he could wish upon. Countless times. So many dandelion seeds have been wasted on a person that doesn't exist.

At some point he just stopped. Maybe it was right before he had to blow out the sixteen candles on his birthday cake, that he decided he would accept it. No more tears, no more wishes, no more hope. The cake had tasted very bitter, that day.

So his teenage years had been spent alone. He grew to hate this faulty system, he was forced to live under. He had never done anything bad that would justify this fate. But maybe the universe was just cruel. Or didn't care about him at all. Maybe he was not supposed to exist. He was convinced, there was no happiness left for him. Everyone else had used it up and now the world had nothing left to offer for him.

He stayed convinced until he met Logan.

Virgil had been sitting in a dark corner of a library and had been lost in a book. Only as it grew dark around him and he could not see the words any longer, did he realise that he had been forgotten. His mind had been occupied with the subject matter and he had stayed until past closing hours. No one had bothered to inform him, therefore he hadn't bothered to hide the tears as he clutched the book to his chest and buried his face in his knees.

The tall, handsome stranger with sparkling blue eyes framed by thick glasses was not noticed until he had crouched down in front of Virgil and tapped his shoulder. The sobs, that had filled the empty halls immediately died down at the gentle words directed at him and his confusion got stuck in his throat.

“The Stars are millions of light years away and still, I can see them in your eyes right now.” God, how he wished to have these words on him, just like those hands offering him a tissue.

He hadn't been surprised by the poetic ring to the strangers voice, everyone tried to put a lot of meaning into the first words they exchanged with anyone, to ensure their soulmate would have something nice on them. It was permanent after all. Virgil had developed this habit alongside his friends but secretly despised it. It didn't matter what he said, no one would have to deal with his words on their skin anyway. Considering this, he found himself pleasantly surprised by the warmth that spread in his chest.

“W-well, yours look like they are filled with ocean water because they are just as deep and mysterious.”

The man had just laughed and loosened his tie, so that he was able to pull the black shirt aside and reveal the cursive words written right above his collar bone.

Virgil feared his heart would rip out of his chest with how hard it had been beating in this moment but as soon as he stranger spoke again, it stuttered and he was feeling like he was drowning in those eyes, that would never be his.

“That was way nicer than 'move nerd, I'm too pretty to die'. My name is Logan, would you like to defy this so called destiny with me and let me buy you a coffee some time?”

Virgil had been hesitant at first. He was setting himself up for heart brake with this. The Man in front of him belonged to someone else. He had his soulmate, his future, his happiness. But how could he deny his request if he was already able to feel himself falling in love?

They had their little coffee date. And many more after that. They dated for three years and both of them had felt truly happy.

They liked to stay up late together and talk about books and music and space and kiss afterwards. They knew exactly how the other liked their coffee. Logan liked a little sugar in it, so that he could consume the caffeine more quickly and effectively and Virgil always had some milk mixed into, not because of the taste but because he was always afraid to burn his tongue and the cold liquid helped to cool it down quicker.

They knew what they had to do, to cheer each other up after a particularly bad day. Logan would wrap his partner into a soft blanket as soon as he saw the hunched over shoulders and the dull, defeated look in his eyes. They would just lay in bed together, knowing that the world had been too much, too overwhelming, no words were exchanged. Only gentle touches and a calm presence shielding him from his own thoughts until he fell asleep.

Virgil had took it upon himself to brush his lips over his boyfriends neck, whenever he could see a clenched jaw, red, tired eyes and a deadly grasp on whatever was close. Countless pencils were snapped in half when Logan was frustrated, but as soon as the writing utensil was replaced with gentle hands, he could feel himself relax. Virgil would just let him talk all his anger and frustration out, occasionally nodding, or giving some small input, but mostly just listening. When they were satisfied with how clear their minds had become, they would sit down together and watch a light-hearted TV show, until Logan learned how to smile again.

It had been enough for them, even though society told them that it was wrong, that the universe had more in store for them. Neither of them cared.

At the beginning, Virgil had been scared. Somewhere out there was his boyfriends soulmate. What would happen when they actually met? He doubted that their love was strong enough to actually fight fate but Logan told him he didn't want this person in his life. He didn't want his life being dictated by some invisible, nonsensical force. He told him, that with Virgil, he felt like he was in control for the first time in his life and that was better than anything this so called soul mate could offer him.

Virgil had believed him, had allowed himself to be vulnerable. He finally trusted Logan completely the day they got matching tattoos of their first words together as a last 'fuck you' to the universe.  

The universe did not like that.

The day Logan met Roman, Virgil found himself crying again.

“I already said that I am sorry! Why wont you listen to me?” The taller man had brushed the hair out of his face with a frustrated huff and watched as his boyfriend stuffed his things into a bag.

“Because you promised, that this would never happened! You told me I was enough and I believed you, Logan!” Virgil didn't know where he would go, he just knew he had to leave.

“Virgil, you don't understand, I can not do anything about this! Roman is infuriating and self-righteous and loud and yet I want to be close to him. It's like we are magnets, complete opposites who attract each other. Neither of us has a choice in that matter but that doesn't mean that anything I said to you is invalid. I still love you, Virgil, it's just that Roman is... he is...”

“He is better than me.”

Virgil stopped talking altogether after that. He moved out of their shared apartment and lived a quiet, lonely life, never looking up, always with music filling his ears.

Even though he could not be mad at Logan for too long, he didn't want any more first words in his life. He had left his heart with the man with the ocean blue eyes and Virgil was certain he could not survive something like this again.

For the longest time he just wanted to disappear from this cruel, uncaring planet.

It was a sunny day as he was forced to talk again. The sky had been without clouds for a few hours now and Virgil was sitting in a park under a tree, just listening to music and watching the birds dance in the air. Do birds have soulmates as well or are they free from this kind of burden, just like they are free to fly high above all of this?

A young man with a bright smile and pale, sky blue eyes appeared in his field of vision. He was holding a bright yellow sunflower out to him and urged him silently to take it. It didn't matter how much Virgil was shaking his head, the man was not backing down from his plan.

With a deep sigh, Virgil took of his large headphones that practically screamed 'leave me alone' and parted his lips. “I don't need your sunshine, please just leave me be.”

He watched as the flower dropped to the ground along with the smile on the strangers face. Only now could he see the faint scar wrapping itself around the man's throat. He first thought he had upset him but before he could say something else, the blue eyed man made hasty gestures with his hands and practically started bouncing up and down. It was quiet adorable, to be honest, if not utterly perplexing.

As Virgil shook his head in confusion, a notebook was pulled out, scribbled upon and shoved into his hands.

'Hey, I'm Patton and I can't talk but we are soulmates! It's so exciting to finally meet you!'

Virgil stared at the loopy handwriting and red the sentence over and over again until drops of something wet fell on it and smeared the ink. At first he had thought it was rain, but just like the strangers eyes, the sky was still cloudless.

Careful fingers cupped his face and lifted it up so that he could look at them again. Patton pulled at his shirt and revealed a few words in messy handwriting sprawled onto his shoulder blade.

With shaking fingers, Virgil traced the words that had just left his mouth on the soft skin.

Another note was handed to him. 'You looked kinda sad so I wanted to make you smile with one of my flowers. I hope you can accept my sunshine now.'