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#is this any coherent at all i'm so tired i should be sleeping
loumands · 1 year
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After the finale i’ve seen a lot of posts both here and on twitter and reddit suggesting that we can’t trust anything we saw actually happened, and/or Armand brainwashed Louis and implanted and removed memories, and that Lestat was nothing like he was shown and nothing in this season was real. I really don’t think that’s what’s happening and how we’re meant to interpret the show for various reasons:
1) It would be bad writing. Like it would be textbook bad writing. ‘She woke up and it was all just a dream’ is often mocked and used as an example of what you should never do for a reason. Pulling the rug and saying what you earlier wrote never happened almost never works. It takes away your audience’s emotional investment, removes good scenes, creates incoherence and aimlessness in your narrative and basically renders your story meaningless. With Louis we know he’s an unreliable narrator and we’ve seen how that manifests: he emphasizes things that support the narrative he wants to convey and omits things that challenge that narrative, he wants to protect Claudia and himself, he’s uncomfortable talking about his love for Lestat, he’s a master of hypocrisy and self-deception, and trauma and the passage of time have influenced his memories. But i don’t really get an impression that he’s untrustworthy in that sense that he literally actively lies or his memories are literally false. Lestat’s version of the events will probably be rather different but that doesn’t mean neither of them is ‘wrong’. I believe that most of the events in this season need to be true so that emotional and narrative integrity is maintained. I think this show’s writers are too good to erase their own story for a twist.
2) I know that some fans dislike the decision to make Lestat more blatantly abusive and are hoping that Louis or Armand is trying make him seem worse than he was, but that doesn’t make sense to me when you consider how the abuse is portrayed in the show. You can disagree with Lestat’s characterization but the way domestic abuse itself is depicted is very careful, consistent, accurate and realistic. Lestat’s abusiveness is not some extraneous detail you can remove by cutting a couple of scenes; it’s an inherent part of his character and the whole story from the beginning. I would go as far as saying abuse if one of the most important parts of this story. If you somehow take it out it becomes a completely different relationship and different show. Again we come back to the point where it would mean undermining the whole narrative. I also think that since the writers have been portraying this subject so well they know better than to insinuate that abuse victims are lying or imagining things. The DV scene in 1.05 has been endlessly analyzed and i do think we’re going to revisit it later from a different POV because it’s edited in the way that implies that there’s more to it. But i really don’t think they’re going to pull ‘none of this ever happened!’ twist with that or any other scene depicting abuse. That would be just cheap and offensive. I think we will in later season see things from Lestat’s perspective that make him more sympathetic (for example revelation that he really loved Claudia like in the books is something i’m almost certain we’ll see) but i don’t see them erasing something that has been so central for Lestat’s characterization.
3) Portraying Louis as some kidnapped brainwashed slave for Armand is at odds with his character and the themes of the show and would also, again, be bad writing because passive characters with no agency are boring, and relationships based on pure mind control are boring as well. Louis at times comes across passive because of his depression and exhaustion caused by trauma and abuse but he’s never been without agency. One of the most compelling and realistic parts of the show’s depiction of abuse is that Louis, like many victims, seeks and stays in toxic situations and relationships by his own volition and ends up repeating the same patterns. Lestat doesn’t coerce him into anything in the literal sense. Louis chooses to get together with him, to stay with him year after year even though they’re unhappy, and to take him back after his assault. Louis is always the one literally and metaphorically locking them in his coffin. I think whatever Louis and Armand’s relationship is like it’s in some ways similar to his relationship with Lestat. I think if Armand is using his powers on Louis it’s relatively minor rather than total brainwashing and quite possibly he’s even doing it by Louis’ own request. I feel that Louis could leave that Dubai coffin house whenever he wanted and Armand or no one else would physically prevent him. But because of how his own mind works he chooses not to. He and Armand are each other’s prisoners in some way and i think that’s much more interesting than Armand just keeping him under psychic mind control.
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livwritesstuff · 5 days
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thinking about this again so here's a part 2
Eddie wakes up to rain. Heavy rain, the kind that keeps the morning sky dark and bounces loud off the roof and the walls and the windows.
The rain didn't wake Eddie up. What did it was a pair of big, warm arms wrapping around him and pulling him in close.
Steve’s arms.
Objectively, this should be a good thing, and past versions of Eddie (even twenty-four-hours-ago-Eddie) would be goddamn irate with him for feeling anything other than vehemently positive about it.
He’s feeling bothered. He’d gone to sleep last night feeling bothered because Steve had sacked out approximately three seconds after they’d hooked up for the first time, and now he’s being woken up by Steve’s big arms pulling him in close and that has Eddie feeling bothered all over again because this isn’t how he thought this would go at all.
“G’mornin’ Eds,” Steve mumbles, the remnants of sleep in his voice.
And then he has the audacity to press a soft kiss onto Eddie’s bare shoulder.
"Y'know," Steve says, "I was gonna ask if you wanted to go to the diner this morning, but…sounds like it’s kinda fuckin’ gross out there. I can make us something if you want.”
Eddie sits up, suddenly feeling like he’s been left outta the loop on some part of this because Steve doesn’t even seem surprised to wake up and find Eddie still in his bed.
If there’s anything Eddie hates more than feeling bothered, it’s feeling like he’s left outta the loop, like there’s a piece of all this that he’s missing.
"Uh, what are we doing here, Steve?" Eddie asks, and he regrets it the second he sees Steve's face turn all hurt and confused.
"I don't —" Steve starts, pushing himself up on his elbow into a half-seated position, "What...what are you talking about?"
And isn't that choice of words just completely ironic?
"Oh, now you're interested in talking? Or are you gonna fall back asleep the second I start to-"
"Wait –" Steve interrupts, his eyebrows furrowed, "Are you all pissed off because I fell asleep?"
"I'm not pissed off," Eddie mutters, fiddling with a loose string on the edge of the sheets.
"What the fuck did you want me to do?" Steve argues, "Break out a deck of cards and suggest a round of poker? It was late! I was tired! I don't know how else to say it, man. You, like — you did a good job. Really had me beat, or whatever."
And, sure, Eddie allows himself to sit with that notion for a second before he shakes his head.
"I needed you to talk to me!” he exclaims, "We fucked, and then you fell asleep, Steve! Like it was just a fuckin' hook-up to you or something."
That confused look is back on Steve's face, but instead of being laced with hurt, this time it's just plain bewildered.
"What — Eddie," he says, "We talked."
Huh?
“Huh?”
“We talked,” Steve repeats, “Before we…you know, and I said that I like you and I said that I’m not really into the casual thing anymore, and you seemed pretty on board with all that, man, I dunno.”
And yeah, sure, Eddie sort of remembers that.
He definitely remembers when Steve pressed him against his closed bedroom door, and maybe he’d also been speaking at the time, but they’d been so close together and Steve had kept doing these little glances down at Eddie’s lips and there’d been this intensity in his eyes and Eddie had been pressed against Steve Harrington’s closed bedroom door.
There hadn’t been a single coherent thought in his brain, obviously, and yes, that included comprehending any of those words Steve might have been speaking so everything that had come out of Eddie’s mouth in response had been yes, yep, uh-huh, you betcha.
Eddie feels heat rising in his cheeks and by the looks of the amused smile making a home on Steve’s face, he’s not blind to what Eddie is currently realizing either.
“Fuck,” Eddie mutters, “I’m a fucking idiot.”
"Maybe," Steve allows even as he starts to pull Eddie back into his arms, "Breakfast?"
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kinanabinks · 1 year
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sore spot
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18+
bucky hits a sore spot when he makes a shitty joke, unknowingly triggering your deepest insecurity.
content warning: bucky x reader, mention of sex, angst, insecure!reader, a little crying, soft!bucky, hurt/comfort, fluff.
a/n: lower your expectations for this one, folks. it's just something i daydreamed and couldn't stop myself from writing at 3am. very self indulgent.
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"This is the dorkiest thing ever," Bucky says with a wide grin as he holds up the action figure he picked up from your shelf. "You're so fuckin' cute."
"Hands off, asshole, that's 30 years old," You warn him as you sit up in your bed, the sheets tangled around your legs. "And limited edition. There's only, like, 50 in the whole world."
"No way!" He fake gasps, before smirking. "If I hadn't just fucked you, I'd call you a virgin right now."
"This is why I kept you away from my apartment as long as possible," You groan, lying back down. "You're too much of a jock to appreciate my collection."
Bucky saunters back over to the bed and kneels onto it, giving you a lazy smile. "You know you love me, candy," He coos, gently poking your cheek.
"Hold your horses, Barnes," You utter, narrowing your eyes at him. "You have a long way to go."
Exhausted from the long night you've just had, you lay back down and allow your eyelids to drop slightly, causing the glow of your fairy lights to blur. You can sense Bucky moving around, likely putting his underwear back on.
"Don't go to sleep yet," He whines softly once he's done, rubbing your bare leg. "I'm not tired."
You let out a half-assed moan in response, too comfortable to move and too tired to say a coherent word.
"C'mon, baby, let's talk about aliens or something," He goes on to implore you. "Tell me about your favorite childhood memories."
With a snort, you move your leg in an attempt to push him away. "It's bedtime, James," You grumble. "You can't seriously expect me to have any energy after what you just did to me."
He laughs heartily at that, and you feel a sense of pride. Your relationship is in its early days, so you're still in that stage of wanting desperately to impress him. Not so desperately that you'll stay up any longer, though.
"Fine. How about I go to Lisa's room, instead?" Bucky suggests, making your eyes shoot open.
Turning to look up at him, you shrug. "Yeah, maybe you should," You play along half-heartedly, feeling your stomach drop as a sense of dread washes over you. "You want to?"
"Maybe I should," He echoes with a smirk. "I'm sure we'll have plenty to talk about."
"Mhm," You reply, remembering last week when he made the same joke. Why does he joke about that so much? Is she constantly on his mind? Does he think of her often? They do say there's truth to every joke.
"Could I steal one of your condoms? I'm gonna need it," He says as his smirk widens. "Maybe two. You don't mind, right?"
You open your mouth to reply, but no words come out. The combination of your exhaustion and the fact that your ugliest fears are rising to the surface almost makes you break down, so you turn away from him and pull the sheets up to your chin.
Shaking your head as best you can is futile, as a whimper leaves your throat on its own accord. It sends Bucky straight to you, utter concern in the way his arms wrap around you, which only makes the tears in your eyes spill out.
"Baby?" Bucky asks lowly, his tone suddenly serious. The bed dips as he moves closer to you, and you hope to God he'll think you're just falling asleep.
The past few weeks with Buck have been incredible. Nothing but good days have blessed you since you met him, but you knew it was only a matter of time until it all came crashing down. There was no way you could simply be happy forever. You try to hold in your emotions as best you can, but you can't help but sniffle quietly.
"Are- are you really upset?" Bucky asks you with a whisper, slight fear in his tone. Fuck. He can't have ruined things this early on.
"Shit," He whispers, and you inwardly cringe. This is the first time you've cried in front of him, and it's definitely way too soon to be getting this emotional, but fuck, you can't help it.
You knew this was gonna happen eventually. It always does. At least it was fun while it lasted.
"I was just kidding, I swear," He promises, holding you tight.
"It's fine," You manage to say through your sobs, convincing nobody. It becomes harder and harder to breathe until you finally breakdown, panic settling in. Pulling the sheets over your face, you cower away from him as though that'll be enough to hide your tears. He keeps his grip tight around you, slowly pulling the sheets down when you choke on your breath.
"Just relax for me, candy," Bucky says soothingly, holding you close. "Take in a deep breath. Just like that. One more for me. There you go, that's a good girl. Give me one more."
You do your best to do as he says, breathing deeply. After the third time, your shakiness calms down and you feel your heartbeat return to a normal pace.
"I'm so sorry, baby, I was entirely kidding," He swears, pure regret on his face.
"My last two exes said they'd have rather been with her," You utter, still unable to look at him. "One of them admitted that he only got with me because she rejected him." It's taking you a lot to say this out loud to someone else. To be opening up about the worst insecurity you have for the very first time. "It's been like that my whole life. Guys would show interest in me just for a chance to get closer to her," You admit with a wince. "Up until a couple of years ago, guys barely paid me any attention. When they did, it was because of her."
Wiping your wet cheeks, you shake your head, swallowing thickly. You can't even make eye contact with him and you instead stare at your hands which are grabbing fistfuls of the duvet. After a few moments, you've fully caught your breath and you can finally put together a coherent sentence.
"It's just a bit of a sore spot," You explain with a grimace. "The whole Lisa thing."
He silently nods, prompting you to explain further.
Bucky listens closely, his brows furrowing. "Fuck. I'm so sorry, baby, I'm the biggest asshole ever. If I'd known-"
"It's really not your fault, I know you were only kidding," You assure him, finally turning to look at him. "But there's just this voice that tells me not to trust you. That says you're playing the long con and you're only with me so you can get to her."
"I didn't even know her before I met you," He reminds you assuringly.
"Well, maybe eventually you'll realize you want her more," You mumble, sitting up when you see the look of shock on his face. "I know that's not true, but I can't help but feel that way."
He takes in a deep breath, keeping his eyes on yours. "Baby, listen to me: you and Lisa are not the only two women in the world," He says bluntly. "I don't need to decide which of you I want more. I've met a hundred Lisas, and there are thousands more out there, and I don't wanna be with any of them. I wanna be with you, and you're the only you."
"That was cheesy," You mumble as your lips pull up slightly.
"C'mere, candy," Bucky whispers, pulling you closer and softly kissing your forehead. "There is no way I'm gonna do anything to fuck this up with you. Liking someone as much as I like you doesn't come easy to me."
Giving him a smile, you rest your hand on his lightly defined abs. "I'm flattered," You whisper.
"You should be," He mumbles coyly, tightening his hold on you. "I want you. That isn't changing anytime soon, alright?"
"What about ever?" You ask sheepishly, running your fingers through the tufts of hair on his chest.
His lips gently kiss your cheek before he lowly says, "It isn't changing ever," He corrects himself. "As long as you want me, I'm yours. And as long you're mine, I want you."
"What about- what if I was an alien?" You wonder. "Would you still want me?"
"Sure," He answers confidently.
"With slimy tentacles and-"
"Abso-fucking-lutely," He immediately cuts you off, his eyes lighting up. "As long as you promise to peg me with them."
You laugh loudly, nodding. "Okay. I promise," You agree.
"Would you still want me if I was an ogre?" He questions you with a raised brow.
"A hundred percent," You reply. "Your dick would be even bigger."
"What if I was a dickless ogre?" He adds.
You contemplate it for a few moments before answering, "That's fine. I'd fuck you with my tentacles."
"Awesome," Bucky utters, before the two of you lay back down under the covers. He pulls you closer, cradling you in his arms. "You still tired?"
"I'm five seconds away from falling asleep," You warn him as your eyes flutter shut.
"Alright. Sweet dreams, candy," He whispers, stroking your arm soothingly. "I'm gonna go hang out with Lisa."
You nudge his stomach with his elbow, making him grunt.
"Sorry. Bad timing?" He asks between chuckles.
With a content sigh, you get comfortable in his arms, grateful for the heat from his body. "Say her name again and I'll choke you," You mutter, only half-joking.
"Don't threaten me with a good time," He says teasingly.
"Shut up."
"Make me."
"Once I grow my tentacles, I will."
"Okay. Good night, candy."
"Good night, Jamie."
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i no longer have a taglist, follow @kinanabinksupdates and turn on notifs 💞
buy me a kofi <3
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icyowl · 1 year
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Vash Soulmate AU
Pairing: Vash the Stampede x f!reader
Synopsis: soulmate trope where injuries are transferred between one another. You've managed to hide it until now. 3k
A/N: I got nothing. Have fun!
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Soulmates: two people characterized by an undeniable pull towards and affection for one another. Signs include, but are not limited to, romantic attraction, frequently similar interests, and the sharing of injuries.
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Team: disheveled, exhausted, alive.
Body: pained, sore.
Brain: dizzy.
Sleep: beckoning. As soon as you could patch yourself up, whatever meager mattress awaited you would nonetheless be a welcomed friend. Just a bit longer.
“Hey, you alright?” Vash said while everyone began to split for their assigned rooms. Count on someone as caring as he to sense your exhaustion.
“Yeah, of course.” You replied. “Just tired.”
“After the day we had, I don't blame you.”
“Take care of that knife wound you got, okay? I saw what those bounty hunters did to you.”
“I'll be good as new tomorrow, promise.”
You knew that was a lie in more ways than one.
“Get some sleep.” He added before leaving the hallway for the boys' room. With the Stampede safely away, you listened closely for any sign of his return, and when you heard none, promptly collapsed into the wall and finally let your quivering legs let go of their last bit of strength. A relieved exhale, the kind that came only when you could let you guard down after having it up for so many hours, left you nothing but a sagging corpse against the hallway wall. Your hand delved under your clothing to assess the damage.
Blood.
Surprise? You wished.
Weary eyelids fell blissfully shut. Perhaps you'd wake up, maybe you didn't care whether you did or not, all you knew was the mere act of staying awake was more displeasing by the second. A part of you knew this couldn't continue. Your poor, feeble human body couldn't take much more of this. Just a quick rest. . .
“Hey.” Meryl said once she emerged from your shared room. Her tone indicated she'd finally had enough of your shenanigans.
“I know what you're gonna say.” You replied around a dry cough. The blood leaving your body was taking your energy with it. “Go away.”
“I could, but then you'd bleed to death. So come on, at least give me a chance of getting you on your feet.”
“Yes, Captain.”
Through a bit of struggle, Meryl finally managed to get you off the floor and into the room. Vash or any of the boys could have come into the hall if they caught sound of any of the groans and hisses and whimpers you gave, but thankfully did not. Your steps were slow, vision distorted, and Meryl barely managed to get you into the room and onto a bed before you spasmed from the pain and bit your sleeve to keep the boys from hearing it. Meryl reluctantly helped you out of your top and took the time to complain the entire way. This is ridiculous and I'm not helping you again. If you were more coherent you were sure you'd care.
A hefty weight landed square in your lap. “A first aid kit. You're welcome.” Meryl spoke as she took a seat on her own bed. This had happened enough that she didn't bother with you much and instead set about getting ready for the night. If you passed out, then maybe she'd worry.
Meryl pinned you with a dark glare when she had put up her jacket for the evening. “When are you going to tell him?”
Your hands worked down to open the kit without looking. Right now energy was too sparse to bother lifting your head. “He's already got so much on his plate, I—”
“You can't keep going like this. With how reckless he is, it'll kill you.” She bit back angrily. The fact she was angry made her even more angry. Soulmates were supposed to be a time of joy, not pain, sorrow, apprehension, trepidation. You and Vash should have been enjoying the bond ages ago; instead, she got to watch you hide away from him, patch yourself up in the dark and holding back tears when you needed a shoulder to cry on. Preferably the shoulder of a lean, glasses-wearing, gun-wielding, messy-headed typhoon.
“I will.” You said. The near-nightly routine you developed began to take shape even with the room's minimal light: unroll bandages, find gauze, lay out the towel, etc. Unfortunately, Meryl had heard your lies before and no longer bought them. She continued like you'd said nothing at all.
“Nick's too dense to have any idea, but Roberto's suspicious. He'll catch on soon, and do you think he's gonna keep your secret?”
“Can you just—” The brief blaze of intense fury coming to life in your blood was quelled under the knowledge that she had good intensions and clearly came from a place of compassion. Factually? Yes, she was right. You hated having to hide your injuries too. Obviously it would be so much easier to cry out whenever Vash got punched, kicked, grazed, beaten, tossed, pummeled, dropped—
You get the idea.
But emotionally? You just couldn't bare letting Vash and the others know of your situation. They'd only worry more, be more stressed, miss more sleep, treat you differently, carefully, like you were more important than them. This also felt like something you needed to keep up now that you'd gone along with the lie for so long. If you told the truth now, they'd only feel betrayed and distrusted. That was so far from the truth it nearly made you tear up just thinking of their faces. Vash especially. He'd feel it deeper than the other two.
“Can you just find some water, please? I can't hardly swallow.”
Thankfully Meryl did as you asked and made for the door.
“Swallow your pride, how's that sound?” She asked and closed the door before you could reply.
This wasn't about pride. Both of you knew that. You didn't have pride when you poured alcohol over the gash, screaming into your sleeve to stifle the noise and hopefully not tip off the boys next door. It wasn't there when the touches of the gauze made you thrash and your vision whiten with the spikes of agony. Pride wasn't felt when you looked at yourself — shaking hands, helpless sniffles, welling tears, tucked away in the dark of the room like you were ashamed to exist. You hadn't felt pride in a long time.
Pain. Pain was all you could comprehend. The gash was deep and oozed fresh blood readily every time you squeezed the surrounding area. You were probably queazy from seeing the life-force leave you and ebb uselessly onto your skin, clothing, and the bandages, but you were too light-headed to care. Trying to keep your dirty shirt out of the wound was difficult and eventually you accepted that it had to go. Infection would be hard to stave off and harder to conceal. It took a few tries to move your body in a way that would allow it to come off, but after some crying and more biting your hand to keep the screams at bay, it dropped from your hands onto the bed.
Fortunately Meryl came back swiftly with the water—
“You got any bandag-”
You heard Vash's voice, recognized his silhouette, cried out some sound of distress, just as he saw the blood, wraps, scars, bruises, stopped dead both physically and somewhere deep in his chest.
Some worthless insecurity - or maybe you stupidly still believed he hadn't seen even though his eyes had yet to leave you - made you grab your shirt to cover yourself, yell out at the flaring agony consuming you from the sudden move, and freeze. Even if he hadn't seen the wounds (he most certainly had), your shout would have tipped him off.
The shirt did a lousy job covering the scars - after all, they were everywhere. Neck, shoulders, chest, arms, hands, it was endless. Bruises filled in the rest of the macabre mosaic. Vash was only a few feet away from you, but when he called your name, it sounded distorted and distant. The heartbroken tone was the very thing you'd tried so hard to avoid.
“Its just a small cut, I'm oka-”
Then he began to cry, no, sob. His tears were endless and he did nothing to wipe them away so the two streams left his eyes, met at his chin, and fell in a steady drip to the floor. He started to violently shake, wrought with grief at the soul-breaking realization that you were hurt, he had caused it, and he'd been causing you pain for a long time.
He called your name like a plea. There was no real reason behind it. He wasn't mad, or calling you over to him. It was the hapless cry a child might do when looking for comfort. You hissed through the pain, shortened the distance, and stood in front of him on trembling legs. There was no point in hiding it any more. Slowly you let go of your dusty shirt with one hand, then the other, watching it fall, utterly terrified to look him in the eye. When had you heartbeat gotten so loud?
Vash's hands reached for you, then closed and retreated, before reaching again and holding your hands preciously. The weight of his guilt had his teeth creaking under the clench of his jaw and the tears had yet to slow.
“God,” he fumbled, “- I - fucking, god damn it - no-”
“Va-”
His fingers brushed over a scar near your collarbone. “When I let that guy stab me,” then they moved to the mark in your shoulder, “and I took the bullet for that girl, and here,” now they tickled your side, “when Nai burned me, god, this was when I got held hostage by those sisters,” he said after suddenly walking around you and seeing the minefield on your back. Some kind of wounded sound exploded from deep in his throat. The shame was crushing. “And here is from the police, and that's from those scientists taking biopsies—”
“Okay, okay.” You stepped away from the constant skim of his prying fingers and tried to hide yourself. It wasn't because you didn't like his reaction — it was perfectly reasonable — but being exposed like this was uncomfortable to say the least.
Now that you'd put space between your bodies, Vash hunched under the self-loathing flooding him, chin touching his chest, eyes pinched shut, and hands clenched furiously by his shivering sides. He had no right being close to you. “I'm sorry, I'm so, so, so sorry. Words can't - I can't-” He said through tears and snotty sniffles.
This is what you wanted to avoid. What should you say? What did he need right now? Comfort, obviously, and you yearned to hold him, but Vash was the type to push people away, to think himself a burden, a poison. How could you get him to change his tendencies without him thinking he was doing something wrong? How would you tell him to take it easy, not because you wanted to spare yourself from the pain or change who he was, but because seeing him in pain hurt like any real wound?
“Maybe we can come up with a solution together. If its - if you want. I don't want to force anything.” You offered into the subtle quiet of the room. This moment was pivotal. Rejection. Acceptance. It would be now.
Realization began to work into Vash's psyche. His fists loosened, his eyes stared far past the floor. It began to come into his mind that you were his soulmate, that he had a soulmate, that it was you, that he was so happy it was you and you were right in front of him, here, needing him physically, mentally, and all he could do was weep and cross your boundaries and then refuse to touch you like you weren't hurting.
“Y. . .” He started. Your incredulous statement was hard for him to process. “You think I don't want this? You think I'm even gonna let you out of my sight now-” Vash rushed through the distance between you in just a couple of steps, but stopped just before yanking you into him for the bone-crushing hug he desperately wanted to give. He knew the first rule of soulmates - skin to skin - but didn't want to overstep any bounds. You still looked a little embarrassed to be shirtless in front of him.
You also looked. . . pale. He always worried for you, but now that he knew of the unspoken connection between you two, he looked at you more carefully. Clammy, shaky, dull gaze, a slight sway to your weight. You had just began to lean dangerously far to one side but Vash was quick to support you by the elbows with lightening speed.
“Sorry.” Was all you could come up with.
“Don't be.” Vash replied. He should be the one apologizing, he thought.
Relaxing back against the bed was a godsend. Scratchy covers or not, getting off your feet was a blessing. You let Vash inspect your wound, too caught up in the relief to care. The secret was out, he wanted something with you, and now you were being diligently tended to by his gentle hands. You looked at the dusty ceiling, focusing on anything but the off-colored plaster.
“How are you able to focus?” You asked to try and stop thinking about the tickling sensation of his fingers. “You've got the same wound I do.”
He replied without looking up: “Biology, I guess.”
There was nothing to say to that. All you could do was try and remain still when his thumb gently brushed over a bruise. It was a kind touch, all of his were, but it was hard to let it happen. Topless, prone, letting him see so much of you; it was a little intimidating. You supposed you made it a fair trade when your eyes unabashedly locked onto him. The faint tint to his glasses wasn't enough to stop you from seeing his focus, touched with traces of sorrow. This quiet - two people sharing themselves with gazes and touches in the solace only a dark room could provide - was quickly feeding the connection previously snuffed out. Rapidly this man's face, respectfully tending to your injuries and looking nowhere else, was becoming quite the sight to behold. You didn't know you were looking at guilt. You didn't know that he felt like he'd done all this to you by his own hand: every scar, cut, scab, bruise, or knot.
Vash sat up, surmising he could only help with the most recent gash. “Alright, I'll need to clean it.”
“I already did.”
“Pouring booze over it doesn't count.”
“It's not that bad-”
Vash's eyes glared at you with a sudden edge. “I'm not letting this get worse.”
Now he looked a bit more like the infamous gunslinger everyone thought him to be. You decided to stay silent after that. He rummaged through various bags - knowing he was going through Meryl's things but not caring because this was you we're talking about and he wasn't going to let notions of respect stop him from helping you - and finally procured a bottle of rubbing alcohol. Vash was even meticulous enough to pinch the gauze between a set of tweezers before liberally dousing it in rubbing alcohol, worried his hands might cause infection.
“You ready?” He asked quietly, the soaking material hovering dangerously close to your skin. His grip was steady. Much steadier than yours would have been.
“Ready as ever.”
The last-ditch attempt at humor didn't last long. As soon as the gauze made a home in your skin, any thoughts other than the intense, stabbing discomfort spiraled away. The effort it took to stay still and not try to thrash away from the horrific feeling of course fabric digging through your screaming flesh was borderline incomprehensible. Perhaps it was the pain, perhaps the blood loss, but your brain began to float and swirl with a queazy nausea. In an effort to stay in the present reality you lashed out, grabbing onto anything that could give you some comfort. The warm clothes between your fingers meant you'd grabbed onto Vash — in itself nothing terrible — but when you looked and saw it was the flesh of his upper thigh in your grip, you hastily let go and instead settled for the bed linens beneath you.
“Sorry!” You rushed.
“I don't mind.” He replied. Nothing in his expression gave any of his emotions away (he really was very focused on stitching you up) which made it even more unnerving. Was he put off? Did ignoring what happened make you feel better? Did he not care? Did you want him to? “I like when you feel like you can rely on me.”
You continued to fist the sheets while Vash took his sweet time getting into every single nook and cranny of the cut. Even laying down you began to feel lightheaded. Sometimes Vash flinched, the only indication he felt what you did. It made sense; the transfer of pain and injury could be deadened until soulmates' bonds grew. From here on, both of you would have to be more careful. When he said he was done you sighed in relief, only to be told he needed to get you to sit up so he could wrap it properly.
“I'm gonna need some help.” You said.
“I wouldn't want it any other way.” He replied like it was nothing. His arms were warm and gentle as they worked between you and the sheets to support you properly. “Ready?” He asked, voice just a few inches from the skin of your neck and surprisingly smooth for how much he quivered on the inside.
You nodded.
Your grasp on his shoulders turned to hooked claws when the pain became too much. Vash had tried to be gentle, but it was going to hurt regardless. Then, wordlessly, he set about cushioning the gash with perhaps too much gauze and encircling your midsection in bandages. Again, maybe it was the blood loss, maybe not, but you shivered when he crossed the minimal space between you both to pass the wrappings behind your back.
“I never thought I'd have one.” He began. “I mean, I'm not even really human.”
“Didn't you feel every time I got hurt? Sure, it's not much compared to you, but you had to have felt my injuries too.”
“Honestly, it's hard to tell what's old and what's new at this point.” Vash finished by taking off his coat and wrapping you in it. After he pulled the front together to keep you warm (the shaking didn't escape him), he continued. His eyes stared at his coat, refusing to rise to meet you. “I know I don't have much right to ask this, but I can't stay quiet. Please, please promise me you'll try to be more open with me from now on? If you're hurting, I want to help.”
“If you'll do the same.”
Vash's eyes lifted in surprise. It would be hard - frankly he wasn't even really sure how - but it was fair. To share the hardships. “Then. . . we have a lot to talk about, I guess.”
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vanwritesfan-fiction · 6 months
Text
Jack and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week
Part One
Series Masterlist
Warnings: angst, brief mentions of hospital procedures
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Sometimes, your mind is your own worst enemy. That little voice in the back of your mind, the one that's supposed to be your conscious, can also lie to you. It can convince you of things you know can't possibly be true, and in your moments of weakness, it can make you a believer.
Ever since Jack's last argument with you over three weeks ago, the one that he walked out of, a proverbial nail in the coffin that was your relationship, that little voice in the back of his mind had been screaming at him, and he was too tired to fight it any longer.
****
God, how could you be so stupid?
Why did you yell at her like that?
Fuck, why do you ruin every good thing that comes into your life?
"Jack, did you hear me?" He was forced out of his mind, lifting his head out of his hands to look at Neelam. He cleared his throat, sitting up in his chair. "Sorry, yeah, I was listening." This was his first meeting of the day at the record label, and he was already over it, wearing his emotions on his face.
Neelam narrowed her eyes at him, shifting her weight to her right hip. "Ok, so then what do you think?"
"Uh, I think we should just do whatever. I'm fine with whatever." He waved her off, dropping his head to look at his phone in his lap. He scrolled through his last messages to you, all pitiful one sided attempts to apologize with no response.
"I'm sorry, but we can't just do whatever. We need to decide what song you're going to perform at the VMAs, I was thinking you could do Nail Tech. What do you think?" All eyes in the room where on Jack, waiting on him to lead, make a decision as he had done a million times before.
Jack's head was throbbing as he tried to have a single coherent thought that wasn't about you. He raked his fingers through his hair, pressing the heel of his palms into his eyes to relieve some of the pressure.
"I, uh-"
God, she fuckin' hates you.
She never really loved you. She only felt sorry for you.
You're nothing without her
"Will you please shut the fuck up?!" Jack pounded at his head. The words he directed at himself startled the room into silence. "Excuse me?" Neelam scoffed in disbelief, looking around the room for confirmation that Jack was acting out of character.
"Can we have the room for a second?" Urban stood by the door, holding it open for Jack's team to swiftly exit the conference room. Jack jumped when he heard the door slam shut, Urban locking it before he walked back to the table, sitting across from his best friend.
"If you're gonna give me a lecture, you can save it." Jack edged out, avoiding eye contact. "Oh, I'm not gonna waste my time and energy. I know you're already beating yourself up enough for the both of us." Urban's tone was even, unassuming. He felt for Jack and he hated to see his brother hurting like this, but he also knew this was a mess that he was going to lie in.
The silence in the room was strangling Jack, and he was struggling to breathe. He would have preferred someone scream at him, rather than subject him to this torture. He slammed his hand down on the table, Urban not even flinching as he rolled his joint between his fingers.
"Urban, either fucking say something or get the fuck out of the room. I don't have time for this." Jack brushed a hand down his face, scratching at his beard. "How long has it been?", Urban looked at him, reading the pain in his features.
"Three weeks."
Urban shook his head. "Not since you broke up. How long has it been since you last slept?"
"Three weeks ago." Jack didn't sleep well when you weren't next to him, and he wasn't sure he would ever again. "Man I really fucked up. I don't know what I'm gonna do."
"You're gonna get over it." Urban spoke plainly, like Jack was trying to get over a cold, or a bad test grade. "What the hell are you talking about, man? I can't just get over this."
"You have to. You literally have no choice." Jack was fuming at this point, his face flushing a deep red, his fists balled so tightly he was leaving nail impressions in his palms. Urban's calm demeanor was pissing him off, a reminder that all of the shit he was going through was all of his fault.
"You walked out. You decided to end it. You don't get to change your mind just because you feel bad. That's not how it works." Urban shifted in his chair, leaning back.
"Tell me how its supposed to work, then, Urban, because I swear I'm going crazy." Jack was yelling now, his voice booming throughout the empty room.
"You're gonna finish today, smile, sign the fuckin' papers, like it is just any other day. Then you're gonna go home, go to sleep, and wake up the next day, and do it all over again."
"And how long am I supposed to do that for?" Jack felt the lump in his throat building.
"Until you don't think about her anymore. Look, Jack, I get that you're hurting, but just imagine how she feels right now. She really loved you, cared for you, put up with your dumb ass. She was a goddamn saint, and honestly, she deserves better than you. You need to leave her alone, for good."
****
Resolving that his friend was right, that's exactly what Jack did. For the next week he went through the motions. He made his appearances, he performed for the crowd, all with a smile, and then he went home, went to sleep, and got up to do it all over again the next day. To anyone who didn't know him personally, it would appear that he was perfectly fine, even though that couldn't be further from the truth.
The voice in his head was just as loud, just as denigrating, and it was starting to wear him down.
You're lying to yourself
You're lying to yourself
You're lying to yourself
For every tear he didn't shed, he felt a pain in his chest. For every angry word he didn't speak, he felt his legs buckle beneath him. For every thought of you he didn't allow himself to have, he felt his body grow weaker.
At the end of the week, he had to push through everything to get ready for his performance on the Tonight Show. He was running through the motions during sound check that afternoon, trying to keep up appearances. Urban watched from the sidelines, worried about Jack. His face was pale, his features sunken, moving around the stage like every movement was excruciating.
"Alright, Jack, lets just run through the song one time, make sure everything is to your liking." The producer guided him to his mark, giving him the stage. Jack nodded his head to the music, feeling the tension building in the base of his neck, another splitting headache oncoming. He closed his eyes tight, reaching behind him as if the pain was external.
"Everything ok, Jack?" Neelam gave him a thumbs up, willing him to continue. He felt a chill on his body, sweat beading on his forehead.
"Jack?" He heard Urban's voice, but couldn't see him as the room started to spin, his vision blurring. He opened his mouth to speak, but his lungs were constricted, not even an breath able to leave his lungs.
"Jack!" He heard Urban's voice once more, muffled in his ears, until he and saw nothing, his world going dark.
****
Wake up
Wake up
Wake up!
Jack's eyes shot open, the bright overhead fluorescent lighting blinding him as he tried to get his bearings, struggling to sit up.
"Hey, hey, relax man." Urban pushed Jack back down onto the hospital bed. He looked around him, noticing all of the wires he was hooked up to, and IV running through his arms. He heard the steady beeping of the heart rate monitor, and the sterile smell of cleaning supplies flooding his nose. "Where am I?"
Urban settled into the chair next to Jack's bed, propping his feet on the mattress. "You collapsed at Jimmy Fallon, and now you're at the hospital. Nurse said you were so dehydrated, she's surprised you didn't end up here sooner."
Jack pulled at the IV in his arm, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "I need to get out of here. Did you tell Y/N I'm in the hospital?" Urban chuckled, blocking Jack's way out of the room. He was literally in the hospital, and still his only thoughts were about you.
"No, Jack. I didn't tell her, and you can't leave. You haven't been discharged yet." Jack relaxed out of necessity, beginning to feel dizzy again. Urban handed him a cup of water, and he took a couple of sips, feeling just how dry his throat was after waking up. "She's probably worried about me." It was wishful thinking, he knew it, but he hoped saying it out loud would make it true.
"Jack, no, she doesn't even know you're here. No one contacted her. Its just what we thought was best. Rest up, man. We're gonna get you on the first flight back to Louisville and back to your home so you can get some rest."
Urban swallowed, dropping his gaze from Jack's face. He was lying through his teeth. You were the first person Urban contacted when Jack got to the hospital, but when you didn't answer any of his calls, he didn't think you wanted to be updated on Jack's condition, and he stopped calling.
****
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daisynik7 · 10 months
Note
could you do the most gut punching, debilitatingly soul crushing, hair pulling, tear inducing eren ff
cw: PLEASE READ - extremely heavy content and trauma warning, please proceed with caution. If you are sensitive to topics that deal with traumatic events, please avoid this. I'm being overly cautious just in case! 
Author’s Note: Thank you for the request, anon. Doing my best to give you something that I consider gut punching/debilitating/tear inducing. I’m sorry for the hurt, this was a tough one to write!
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It’s past midnight and you can’t sleep. You’ve been staring up at the ceiling for the past hour, eyes focused on the blank canvas above you, mind unable to shut down the way you want it to. It’s no secret: you’re thinking about Eren again. You haven’t stopped thinking about him for over a year now. And, given your unbreakable track record thus far, you never will.
You call his phone, knowing it’ll go straight to voicemail, clearing your throat as his familiar voice says, “Leave a message after the beep!” The tone rings, signaling for you to start. 
“Hey. It’s me again. I know you’re probably tired of hearing my voice, but if you think that’s going to stop me, you’re wrong. I’ll keep calling until the day you pick up.” You turn to your side, resting your phone between the pillow and your ear. 
“I can’t sleep. I had a shitty week at work. Levi’s been on my ass, complaining about how my desk is so unorganized. You know how he is. I guess it doesn’t help that I’ve been out of it. I don’t know. I wish you were here.” You swallow hard, trying to hold back from crying. It always leads to this, though. Tears streaming down your cheeks, soaking your pillow in sobs and snot. Eren always teased you for being such a cry baby. It’s one of the many things he loved about you. 
“Annie told me I should start dating again. Let go and move on. Told me it’s for the best. Of course, I got upset at her, but I know she’s just worried about me.” You sigh, eyes beginning to water. “Do you still think about me? Because I sure as hell still think about you. All the time.”
It’s inevitable now; the crying, the rush of emotions. “I’m still so fucking mad at you for leaving that night,” you say, sniffling. “So fucking mad for not staying with me. Why did you do that, Eren? Why did you leave me?” 
You sob into the phone, unable to form coherent words any longer. It takes a minute or two to collect yourself, wiping your face with the blanket, eyes puffy, nose runny. As best as you can, you continue, voice trembling. “I’m not actually angry. I promise you. I just miss you so fucking much. There’s not a day that goes by that I’m not thinking of you. I see you everywhere. In my dreams, around my house, whenever I hang out with our friends. You’re always here and always there. I can’t escape you.”
The giant teddy bear he won at that state fair five years ago sits on the bed beside you. You reach out for it, holding it snug in an embrace, the phone still squeezed to your ear. “I know you’ll never listen to this, but I want you to know that I still love you. I’ve always loved you, Eren. I always will.” With that, you hang up, ending the voicemail.
It’s been over a year now since the accident. When you got the call from his parents, you were staring up at the ceiling, exactly like tonight, unable to sleep. Waiting for his call to come through, ensuring you he got home safely. You told him to stay over, but he insisted, knowing he had to be with his family the next morning to celebrate his mom’s birthday. And of course, it’s not his fault for insisting. Eren was always trying to make everybody happy. It’s not his fault for driving that night. It’s not his fault for stepping on the gas pedal when the stoplight turned green. It’s not his fault for not noticing the speeding car with its headlights turned off, driving towards him, running the red. None of it was his fault, and that’s what makes it hurt the most. He didn’t deserve this. Nobody does.
And while he’s still living and breathing, the steady heartbeat pounding in his chest, it’s almost harder than if he wasn’t. For over a year now, you’ve held onto hope that one day, he’ll wake up from his coma. That the past twelve, thirteen, fifteen months have been an unbearable nightmare, and he’ll be back to his normal self. Laughing and smiling with his cheeks rounded, the same electric joy he brings everywhere he goes. It’s that hope that drives you crazy, keeps you sinking down this unending spiral. But it’s the only thing you have left to hang on to. 
It's become routine to visit him every weekend in the hospital. Sitting beside his peaceful form, stroking his hand. Throat stuck with anguish that renders you speechless. That’s why you leave the voicemails for him on his phone, the one that his mom promises to keep charged every day because she knows how important it is to you. You scoot the chair closer to him, the phone held in your grasp, playing on speaker the latest message you left for him just several hours ago. Wishing for a miracle that somehow, he’s hearing this and dreaming of you in his everlasting slumber.
Hey. It’s me again. I know you’re probably tired of hearing my voice, but if you think that’s going to stop me, you’re wrong. I’ll keep calling until the day you pick up.          
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anthemofgvf · 10 months
Text
Endless Summer: Josh Kiszka x Reader Fanfiction
Part Seven
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description: you and sammy have been best friends since you were kids, and being around his family was the norm your entire life. when invited to a trip to their family lake house during the summer, you find yourself spending more time with his brother than your best friend. and, one thing has been clear your entire friendship: brothers are off limits.
warnings for this series: alcohol and marijuana usage, explicit content (18+, minors dni), angst, swearing
word count: 8.8k+
⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰
Slight shifting in your sleep, sniffling every few seconds to stifle your tears through the night. You were thankful you grew tired of crying and that was your way to sleep. But waking up the next morning with your body being its own alarm, you were reminded of the events of last night.
Every time you blinked to keep your eyes from their dry state, flickers of Sam's face flashed behind your lids. You had never seen someone look at you in such betrayal, let alone your best friend. For a moment, you thought it was a horrific nightmare, but with the scent of Josh's natural musk hitting your nose, you knew you were stupid to try and convince yourself that you hadn't completely broken Sam's trust for you.
And then there you were again, choking up on your hot tears and muffling yourself in Josh's chest just in case it would wake him up. It did stir him awake, and with a slight groan, he squeezed you tightly as a hand raised to the side of your head to place strangled hairs behind your ear.
You felt like apologizing for crying. For waking him up because you were riddled with such guilt. But you didn't think you'd be able to coherently say something with your throat holding itself in a knot, so you just ignored using words for now.
Josh pressed a light kiss on your forehead, rubbing his hand on your back up and down to try and soothe you. You were indecisive on whether to meet his eyes or not, but you chose too anyways.
You snaked a hand through your bodies and up to your face as you wiped your eyes clean of tears. With a few deep, collected breaths, you were able to suppress your crying and only feel the light headache that always told you that you weren't done crying, but for now, you were.
"How are you feeling?" Josh asked you hoarsely. He knew the answer; it was obvious with the lingering tears that rested in your waterlines. But he chose to bear the question anyways.
You let out an airy laugh in attempt to keep your suppressed cries down. "Like shit."
He clicked his teeth and pushed his bottom lip out enough into a pout. If a single tear fell down your cheek, he was there to wipe it free with his thumb.
You exhaled shakily, tugging on your bottom lip once your chin began to quiver. "I feel like a terrible fucking friend. I feel like this is all my fault."
He nodded slowly. "It's not your fault."
"Well, it has to be someone's, right? I'm not blaming you for this, because that's a shitty thing to do, but I think we are both in the wrong."
He gave you another nod. With a huff, he said, "I don't think we should settle on blaming each other because we are together, and Sam doesn't approve." He caressed your cheek with his thumb lightly. "You're not...you're not regretting any of this, are you?"
For a second, you hesitated. Of course, you didn't regret any of it, but regret did in fact punch you in the gut when you saw Sam's reaction. You weren't going to answer with uncertainty of how you felt, because this was not the time to lose another person and put you through more grief than you already had seemed to be in. You have always been sure of wanting Josh, despite what your best friend thought. But seeing how hurt Sam was, how disappointed he was in the both of you, gave you the impression that he would never forgive you.
"No, no I don't, Josh." You rubbed your lips together, following it with an inhale. "I just, I don't know how I'm going to face Sam again. There's now a huge elephant in the room we have to address, and I don't think I'm going to be able to do it without breaking down and feeling like I'm the wrong."
"You can't burden yourself with guilt because of him. You can't just let him make you feel shitty about your decisions because he doesn't like them. That's his own thing to deal with and get over." He cupped your cheek with his pinky finger running under your jaw to maintain eye contact with you. "I don't feel bad about anything we've done, but I do feel upset knowing I hurt him. But I'm not going to call it quits with you because he can't get a grip on the fact that we can't choose who we fall for. You said that the first night we kissed, remember?"
You gave him a quick nod. You knew he had more to say, so you watched him take a hesitant pause with an exhale and continuing.
"You can't blame yourself for having feelings, y/n. No matter how much you try to control them, they'll just end up bubbling up and consuming you until you can't fight them off anymore. Sam has every right to be upset because he's human, but he doesn't have the right to choose who you go out with. All we can do is just explain ourselves to him, and hope that he'll agree not to dismiss us because he doesn't like us together."
You slightly furrowed your brows together. "What if he doesn't want to talk to us? To see us? What if he's just so pissed off that he's decided to completely cut me off and-."
"Y/n, y/n," he gave you a quiet chuckle, rubbing your cheek with his thumb in a coaxing matter to get you to stop your rambling. "He's not going to do that. And he can't take me out of his life because we're brothers who so happen to be in a band together. You've been his best friend for so many years and this is the singular bump in the road you two have had together. If he's stuck around for this long, he's sure to listen and try to understand you and I."
You released yourself from his grasp as you rolled onto your back. You pressed the palm of your hand onto your forehead and gazed up to the ceiling. "All of this is giving me a headache," you shot your eyes to Josh, who raised himself up by his forearm and gave you a quiet laugh. "I just hope he doesn't hate me."
"Hate is a strong word." Josh cocked his head to the side and put on a sympathetic face.
"All of Sam's feelings are strong. I'm sure he feels a bit of hatred towards me, or us both. I mean, I don't blame him for feeling it."
"I know this is going to be hard to stop thinking about, but we should get some breakfast. Get up and get ready for the day so we can talk to him, alright? I'll be by your side through all of this. There's two of us in a relationship, not just one. I promise you that everything is going to-."
"Well, you promised me that he wouldn't find out the way he did, but that happened." You shot up from the bed, throwing your covers off yourself as you stood up from your mattress. You weren't sure why you were growing frustrated with Josh, maybe because he seemed to not be on the same level of hurt as you. "How can I believe that everything is going to be fine when he told me he was disappointed in me and looked at me with no remorse?" You flung your hands out from your sides. "How can I trust in you that you're going to help me fix this?"
He brought himself up on his knees and scooted over to you, flinging his legs off the bed and standing in front of you. "All I can do," he brought his hands to your face, "is promise you that I'm going to fix this - that we're going to fix this. All I can do is assure you that your pain is only temporary and that he's not going to fuck everything up because you feel guilty about it. You promised me that you wouldn't let him get in the way of us. Now, that's one promise I don't want to break." His eyes flicked between the both of yours before continuing. "Do you?"
Your eyes began to well up again with your bottom lip starting the rapid pace of shaking. He was speaking to you with a stern voice, and you weren't looking for a fight. You were just so exhausted with everything happening at once, and everything falling out of line. This wasn't in the plan; this wasn't supposed to happen. Now, you were unprepared. You were stuck staring at Josh with the thought of hesitancy.
You let out a choked breath that your throat forced you to release. "I don't, Josh. I'm just doubtful that this will all work itself out."
He brought your forehead to his lips, placing a long kiss onto it. After doing so, he brought you into his arms and had you wrapping your own around his back. "All we can do is grabble up as much hope as we can. It might take time to sort this out, but at least we can say we put the effort into making this better."
You squeezed him as tightly as your shut eyes were pressing themselves. Any tears that brewed up in your waterline had you forcing them out of your system so you could keep your composure. You were sick of crying over this, sick of feeling emotionally drained over the situation. It was the most frustrating thing to try and understand who was at fault in this, because who was to blame? It was like all of you were in the wrong, but all right in your own ways at the same time. An agonizing headache pounded at the back of your brain, and you decided that it was time to stop plaguing yourself and try to go on with the day.
You looked to Josh with your lips sealed together, nodding in understanding and bringing yourself to his lips. That kiss felt more like a promise to him. Like a promise that you weren't going to, in a sense, break up with him because of Sam. A promise to him that you weren't going to let your emotions get the best of you because Sam was a creeping thought in the back of your mind telling you that you should feel ashamed of your actions.
⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰
You and Josh walked downstairs to Jake sitting at the island with a red coffee cup in hand. He found the both of you, smiling at the sight and placing his cup down as he folded his hands together.
"Glad to see you both awake. Haven't seen Sam yet, though." He shrugged, standing up and placing his plate into the sink. "I made him some avocado toast, but I think it's gross by now."
You looked to Josh, who gave you the same look of "he doesn't know". You could feel the knot in your throat twisting again and nausea thumping around in your stomach, but you gave yourself a moment to breathe before nodding to Josh as a sign you wanted him to speak for you.
"He's probably not going to come down. Best if you just give him his food yourself." Josh muttered with his eyes shot down to his feet.
Jake cocked his brow at the both of you, giving himself a second to look between you and Josh in confusion. "Did something happen?"
You gave him a silent nod. "He knows now." You gave a quick look to Josh, then back to his twin.
Jake's eyes widened, mouth partially hung open and pressing his tongue into his cheek. "Oh," he said, "guessing he didn't take it well?"
Flashes of his scowling face and his bitter words flew in your mind. All you could give to Jake was a shake of your head as you pressed your lips together to contain yourself from crying. There was no point in letting any tears fall to show your sadness when your body language already spoke for you of your guilt.
Josh placed his hand on your lower back in an attempt to console you. "Not at all."
"Guess that explains why he hasn't come down yet." He shrugged with a sigh. "Should I go check on him?"
"You don't think he wants to be left alone?" Josh questioned him.
Jake rolled his head to the side, then tilting it slightly back in thought. "Probably, but I'm still going to go see if he's okay. He doesn't know that I know, so maybe I'll get something out of him."
You both nodded in agreement to Jake, and he left the both of you alone to go to Sam's bedroom. You let your eyes and head follow Jake up the stairs and finally watching him disappear. You even tuned your ears to see if Sam would let him in, and when you heard the door open and close, you exhaled heavily before turning your attention back to Josh.
He had grabbed you a plate of waffles, doused in syrup, and you both joined together on the couch in the living room. You even found yourself sitting in the same spot you and Sam cuddled up together at on the sofa for the movie night.
Josh took his place next to you with a plate of his own, handing you a fork and digging into his breakfast quietly. The air was tense. There wasn't much to say, so you both just ate in silence. Eating seemed to help keep you from crying, so you just focused on the food in front of you and stuffing it into your mouth to ignore any thought of your best friend.
You found yourself with no appetite, but still eating at least half of the sticky waffles Josh grabbed for you. You left quietly to clean off your plate, then looking over to Josh who watched your every move.
He eventually picked himself up after a few moments and joined you at the sink and embraced you from behind. He placed multiple kisses along your shoulders, trailing up to your neck and cheek until you released a light giggle. He gave you a small smile, pecking your lips and continuing to watch you wash dishes with his head over your shoulder.
Eventually the day carried on and still no sight of Sam. Jake notified you that Sam was barely speaking to him and said he just wanted to be left alone, so you all agreed to carry on the day without him.
It didn’t feel right doing things without him, especially because he was the one that invited you here in the first place. Going anywhere without him made any atmosphere feel off. You couldn't pretend he wasn't in town or that he was out with friends. With Josh's hand intertwined with yours, you were reminded that Sam was alone in his room with his thoughts. Who knows if he was thinking about what you and Josh were up to, or if he was dissociating to forget about his frustrations.
You all tried occupying yourself with things to do away from the lake house, like taking a trip downtown to the shops and having dinner there. Jake wasn't affected by the situation, and you were sure that Josh was putting on his best face for you. But in your case, masking your miserable attitude wasn't as easy. And, you didn't have any energy to hide your true feelings anyways.
When you all arrived at home, you were hoping to catch Sam in the kitchen or living room. Maybe watching television or finishing up a meal. But he was still out of sight, and you were growing tired of the distance.
"Do you still want to sit around the fire tonight, y/n?" Josh pulled you to the side as Jake plopped himself on the couch.
"Yeah, yeah I do." You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. "Think I'm going to go talk to Sam, though."
Josh quirked his brows. "Do you think he'll talk to you?"
"It's childish of him to lock himself in his room all day and throw a tantrum. He has to come out sometime soon. He's here with all of us, anyways." You shrugged. "I'll just ask him if he wants to sit by the fire with us."
Josh pressed his lips to your cheek and gave you a nod. Once you left his side to make the somewhat treacherous journey to Sam's bedroom, the twins went outside to get the fire started.
You dragged your feet to his door, and although the hallway wasn't that long, it felt like a never-ending walk. As much as you wanted to see Sam, even if it had only been less than a day, you were unsure if he wanted to see you. He was notorious for holding grudges, especially about things that he highly disapproved of. But you weren't going to let that stray you away from speaking to him.
With a few seconds of hesitation, you gave a few light taps onto the brown wooden door with your knuckles and waited for a response. When none was given to you, your eyes flicked to the doorknob. Would he be upset with you that you entered without his consent?
But when did he ever knock when he'd come visit you?
You turned the doorknob slowly, placing your hand flat on the door and scanning the room quickly. He was sitting on his bed with a pair of sweat shorts, a baggy tank top and his hair tossed up into a bun. His phone screen lit up his expressionless face, but when he looked up to see you, he ignored your presence and put his eyes back onto whatever his phone had to offer.
"Hey," you gave him a small smile, leaning onto the doorframe, "we're going to sit around the firepit for a little. Do you want to join us?"
You waited for a few moments until he gave you a scoff. Looking up to you to show his stern appearance then occupying his focus on his phone screen, you just left him alone by quietly shutting his door and leaving to go to outside for the night.
When the boys saw you alone, Josh stood up quickly once he saw your face contort into one that showed your anguished feelings. Chin slightly quivering, eyes brimmed up with tears, but quickly wiping them away with a sniffle and sitting in your seat without a word. Hopefully by not speaking, you would be able to compose yourself and let your eyes go out of focus on the fire.
"Did he say anything to you?" Josh said.
"Nope. Just looked at me." You stated flatly.
"I think it's time I said something to him." Josh sighed. That caught your attention, and your eyes immediately shot up to him.
"Josh, I don't think he-."
But he cut you off right away. "He can't stay cooped up in there. We need to talk about this, whether we both say something, or one of us does. Maybe I can get him to talk to me."
Josh wasn't going to let you defer him, so you just gave him a singular nod and watched as he walked with a fast pace to the lake house. You blew air out of your mouth, shaped like an "O" with your cheeks puffed out, and relaxed fully forward with your hands folded over one another.
Without a word, Jake took a seat next to you. You weren't sure if it was so that way you wouldn't feel as lonely as you possibly could, or just a change of seating. But he poked at your arm, and your eyes left the fire to look at him.
"Do you want to talk about it? What he said?" He spoke softly with his face lit in a sympathetic expression.
You gave him a short laugh that exhaled through your nose. "I mean, there's nothing much to talk about. He just...was beyond frustrated. Completely blew up with anger." A tight-lipped smile spread on your lips. "Said he was disappointed in me. Said that Josh didn't care about his feelings to his face. It was just inhumane the way he was yelling at the both of us. I have never seen him get so upset before."
You ignored the choking sensation in your throat by clearing it away and running the back of your hand under your nose.
At first, Jake said that he was sorry. But he continued. "He's acting like this is his decision to make."
You exhaled an airy laugh, because that's all you and Josh have said as a reason to continue your relationship because it wasn't Sam's choice.
"Can I be honest with you?" Jake repositioned himself in his chair and leaned forward. When you gave him a nod in agreement, he carried on. "It's definitely a tough position you're in, which is why it's so difficult to figure out what to do. I don't blame you for being upset, but I also don't blame him for feeling the same way."
"I just, I just don't know what to do. You know, I care about the both of them so much. I don't want to break things off with Josh because of Sam, but I don't want to lose my best friend. It'd be stupid for him to want to cut me out of his life because of this, because after all, if me and Josh continue to see each other he'll have to be around me anyways. But I can't just go back to being friends with Josh after everything that's happened. I've had feelings for him for too long for me to just pretend that I never did."
Jake took your words in with a silent nod. He took a few moments to speak, just so he could come up with an answer that would give you some sort of helpful idea of what move was best to make next. "You're in a tight spot, y/n. And it's really not my place to tell you what you should do. But, if you want my advice, I'd try to talk things out with Sam. That's all you can do, honestly. He's just going to have to deal with it. Doesn't mean that he should immediately be okay with it, but it also doesn't mean that he shouldn't give it a shot."
He took another breath before continuing. "I've never been in your position, but that's what I'd do: talk to him and have him realize how much you two care about each other. I don't think he wants to wrap his head around the fact that you truly like Josh because he thinks that you'll make Josh your number one priority instead of him. He's afraid of change, and afraid of someone interfering with your guys' friendships."
"You think he sees Josh as a threat?" You scrunched your eyebrows together.
"Well, yeah. I mean, Josh is the older brother. He's going to see either of us as a problem if it comes to you because you're, well, you. He views you as his little sister, or perhaps the one thing that doesn't have to involve his brothers. Someone that doesn't include us and doesn't have to because you'll stick by his side no matter what. But now that he's seen that that isn't the case, he's threatened."
"I just don't understand, Jake. I mean, I've been friends with him for so long. I've never once put anyone before him, let alone you or Josh. I don't know why he has the connotation that I'd ever let someone get in the way of our friendship."
"I don't know either," he shrugged, "but all you can do is force him to see your side. I can see where he's coming from, but he shouldn't be worried about it. It's not something that should tarnish a friendship."
You ran the tip of your tongue on your bottom lip. "I sure hope not. I mean, I even told Josh that Sam can't choose who I fall for, you know? I can't pick how I feel about people, because no one can do that. It just...happens. I mean, for a while, I felt guilty about my feelings for Josh. But when he told me how he felt, I just gave up on thinking about what Sam would say. At the end of the day, he shouldn't be involved in our relationship anyways."
"I think he's more concerned that you won't need him anymore. I mean, you're going to go to Josh first when you want to talk about something. He's going to be the first person that you'll want to tell anything. And for a while, that was Sam."
"Yeah, I get that. And I don't want him to feel that way at all because that isn't the case. Of course, I'll probably tell Josh things more often than Sam. But that doesn't mean I'm going to leave him high and dry."
"You should reassure him that, then. Think you've got it all figured out what you want to say to him." He placed his hand on your shoulder and gave you a soft smile.
You took in a deep breath and nodded, relaxing back into your chair to watch the fire you hadn't paid much attention to.
"Oh, and by the way," Jake started, "I may be bias, but don't break up with Josh. He's crazy about you."
You quietly giggled and reserved to smiling to yourself from Jake's words. It was comforting to know that even his brother saw how much he cared about you - how deep his emotions ran. It was a nice way to lighten the mood just enough, and for you to run through what you were going to say to Sam.
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You returned into the lake house and saw Josh stepping down the stairs. You quickly met him halfway and placed your hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, what happened?" You flicked your eyes between his own.
"We sat down and argued - a lot, actually," he laughed, "but I think I got through to him. Might be your turn to go talk to him."
"You think?"
Josh gave you a nod. "I promise."
He cradled your face in his hands and brought your lips onto his softly. The kiss was held for a few moments, before he pulled away and looked at you with an affectionate smile. "Go. I'll be in my room waiting for you."
After the short interaction, you walked quickly upstairs to Sam's bedroom. Without any more moments of hesitation, you knocked on the door and entered.
He was sat on the edge of his bed with his hands folded, eyes immediately meeting yours when you were fully in focus. The both of you shared a moment of staring. You noticed the way his shoulders were scrunched up together, and it seemed that he was trying to cool off from the previous conversation he had with Josh.
"Are you ready to talk now?" You folded your arms together.
"Don't think there's anything else to talk about, y/n. Sure your boyfriend said everything there was to say." He shrugged with a scoff, then averted his eyes to the window in front of him.
You walked over to him and sat next to him, keeping your eyes on his tense face. "Well, I still want to talk to you about this. I'm not going to let Josh be the speaker for the both of us. I want you to hear me as well."
He met your eyes with a face of annoyance, but when he stayed mute, you figured that was him giving you the floor.
"Look, I know how you feel about this. I know it makes you upset, and I know you probably think that our friendship won't mean as much to me anymore. But that's not the case at all. I can balance a romantic and platonic relationship at the same time."
"How long have you two been together for?"
You furrowed your brows. "Did he not tell you?"
"Didn't ask."
"Oh," you nodded, "well, I think about two weeks? Maybe a week and a half to be a bit more specific."
"So, it started on this trip?" He pointed his finger to the ground.
You nodded slowly. "But we've both had feelings for each other before this. Long before this, in fact. We both just didn't know until we went out at night and he-."
"You guys have been hanging out alone?"
"Yes, Sam." You sighed. "Did you expect us to hang out with you guys and us confess to each other how we felt in front of you?"
"Expected you two not to 'confess' anything at all." He shook his head in slight disbelief. "Even after talking to him, I don't understand why you both decided to go behind my back. You know how hurt that makes me, y/n? Doesn't matter that it may have started as friendly. You both never said anything about it."
"You would've been pissed at us if we told you that we were hanging out without you and Jake. Would you have not?"
You watched him give you a huff, followed by an eye roll. He looked away from you for a moment, then stood from the bed and walked to the door. Watching his movements gave you the impression you were supposed to follow him. So, you stood up from the bed and stepped towards him. But he just shut the door and faced you with his back pressed against it.
"You figured that I would just be okay with this? I mean, the thought of you with my brother is just...gross." He shivered lightly for effect.
"We knew you'd be upset. We just thought that you would understand we have feelings for each other that we didn't want to deny anymore. We can't choose who we fall in love with."
"You can think before you act, though." He folded his arms. "Did, did you say, 'love'?"
Your eyes widened slightly. You stammered a few breaths, but none of them consisted of any words.
"You're kidding me, right? You love him? It's been a week or two and you're in love with him, y/n?" He stood off the door and strode to you slowly. His face was becoming a light red, with his eyes squinted.
"I don't fucking know, Sam. So, what if I did? I've known him for just as long as you."
He rolled his eyes again. "I-I don't even know what to say to that."
"Well, why can't you accept that I want to be with Josh, and you have no say in it?" You were growing frustrated. You had your arms folded together tightly, with your lips pressed together firmly.
He shook his head at you. "Because it's just wrong, y/n." He dragged out your name. "I don't fucking like it. You're supposed to be my best friend and here you are running off with my brother."
"I'm not 'running off' with your brother, Sam. I'm never going to put him before you, or you before him. Why can't we live in a world where I can have both? It's like you don't even care about how I feel."
He widened his eyes with the flare of his nostrils. "How you feel? You don't even seem to care about how I feel about this! You're completely just pushing me to the side for your own selfish pleasures because you're living in your own little world where only you and your feelings matter."
"You're being fucking childish!" You pointed your finger at him as your voice raised. "Just because I put what I want first for once in my entire life and not you I'm selfish? Sam, you don't get to tell me what I can and can't do because you don't like it. Now, that's selfish."
"Did you even consider how I felt at all?" His eyes softened a little. Under all the anger, all the frustration, he was hurt. Hurt because you did something without him. Hurt because you went behind his back. "Do you think that I'm entirely in the wrong for feeling the way I feel about this?"
"No, you have every right to be upset about this. I can't control how you feel about things. But I can persuade you into seeing things the way I do because I'm not letting you change my mind on this one. You know how fucking bad I felt seeing how upset you were? Did you know I cried myself to sleep? I cried and cried until I couldn't breathe because I felt so terrible about this! I could've come to you when this started in the first place, but to be honest, I didn't even know how to talk to you about this because I knew you wouldn't understand. Now, I have to stand here and yell at you for you to hear me. Do you realize how pathetic that is?"
He exhaled deeply. All he could do was stare at you with questioning. You tried to pick at his brain through his expression what he was thinking, but for the first time, you didn't know what was on his mind. All you knew was that he was angry and saddened, but that was it. He wasn't giving you any hints for predictability.
His eyes averted from yours and fell to the floor, as if he felt defeated. "Do you care about him more than me?"
"Sam, you can't-."
"Well, do you?" He looked to you, with his eyebrows pulled together. His anger was still present, but the shades of stinging grief shined brighter.
"I care about you both equally. I don't put him on a pedestal because he's my boyfriend. It's a different kind of love I have for the both of you."
He gave you a singular, slow nod. "You were the one thing I had that my brothers didn't." His eyes lightly glistened. If it weren't for the moonlight, you wouldn't be able to see the tears beginning to appear. "Now, Josh has you, and Jake knew all along about you two. I don't have my best friend as much as I used to."
Jake predicted Sam better than you could have. You were taken aback by his words, and especially him shedding his anger to show you the wounds you left. Your face softened and you shook your head in astonishment. Under everything, he was scared of losing you. It seemed more like a misunderstanding, and like he was being a bit too jealous. He never wanted to share you, because after all, that's all he's had to do with his brothers. Third best, third to know - it was all familiar to him. He thought that it would never be the case between you two, but now it was just reminding him off all the things he lost to his older brothers. You would be the greatest loss of them all.
"You're not going to lose me, okay?" You comforted him. You thought of his words to be a bit dramatic, but all of his outbursts were. "I'm not going to push you to the side because I'm with your brother. At the end of the day, you've done more for me than anyone has. I can't just forget all the years that we've spent being friends. I don't want you to ever think that."
He looked away from you again and off to the side of the room. He was collecting himself again in hopes that his vulnerability would wash away. All you could do was give him the time he needed. So, you stood there and waited for a response. "I think you just need to reevaluate your decisions."
"What do you mean by that?" You gave him a puzzled look.
"It's going to take me some time to get over this. I mean, this really fucking hurt, y/n. I think you need to figure out what matters more to you right now."
Your neck brought your head back. You were in shock. If he meant what you thought he meant, you were wondering if you had even gotten through to him with everything you said.
You swallowed your spiteful words and chose to face him with a question. "Are you giving me an ultimatum right now?"
"Is that what it sounds like?" He threw his hands up. It was as if he was frustrated that you had to even ask the question for closure.
"So, none of what I said to you matters and we just argued for no fucking reason for you to tell me I need to choose between you and Josh? Are...are you kidding me?" Your mouth hung open. You still didn't let yourself believe that's what he was going to leave you with. You didn't expect him to just be fine with your new relationship with his brother straight away, but you expected him to try and give it some thought.
"I don't know what else to say to you, y/n. Think I made myself perfectly clear." He gave you a shrug and stood with his statement.
You scoffed. "You're so unbelievably stubborn. Grow the fuck up, Sam. Just because my decisions aren't in your hands doesn't mean you should make me choose between you and your brother. That's childish."
"Seems like you've already made your mind, then." He nodded and stepped back to open the door.
"You're serious?"
"Yup." He nodded his head quickly.
You weren't done talking with him just yet. "Why can't you just accept that I can be friends with you and date Josh at the same time?"
"Why can't you accept that you went behind my back and broke our trust? Yeah, the whole relationship makes me angry, but the fact that you kept it a secret from me is far worse."
"You wouldn't have been okay with it either way, Sam. You can't just try to put up with it instead of clearing it off the table because you don't like it?" You threw your hand out to the side as you spoke.
"Right now, I don't want to even endure it at all. I'm beyond upset with you. When you promise something, you don't break it."
"Well, some promises are meant to be broken." You shook your head. You had only let your voice raise a little, but not enough to be considered yelling. You didn't want the rest of the household to hear you, but you wanted Sam to know you were clearly frustrated with how he was acting.
He took in a sharp inhale and chose to exhale his words. "If that's what you think, then I guess our little discussion is over."
You stood there for a moment to just take in the entire situation. You couldn't wrap your head around the fact that Sam was finally throwing his barrier down, only to flush it away and tell you that you had a choice to make. That wasn't what you were expecting, and after all, it wasn't something you should've had to make.
You finally left the room and stormed down the stairs. You let the feeling of tears forming in your eyes fully consume you. It was uncertain whether you were crying out of anger, sadness - or both, but you didn't care. You were going to let yourself feel whatever your body told you to feel because you didn't even know yourself.
You burst into Josh's room without a warning and causing him to shoot up from his position of laying down and sprawling his hands out at his sides.
"He wants me to choose between you and him. You know how fucking stupid that is, Josh?" You began. "At first, it seemed like I was finally getting him to accept that me and you were going to be together despite what he said," you began to laugh, "but no, he just turned it around and told me that it was him or you."
You could feel your lips shake with your chin and watched as Josh got up slowly from his bed. He placed his hands on your shoulders and examined your face to tell him that you weren't just making this up.
"What are you going to do?" He spoke softly.
"I don't know." You said with wide eyes. You brought your hand to your forehead and continued. "I can't believe that he would do something like this. I don't want to lose him, but I don't want to lose you. I mean, do you think time will tell whether he will come around or not?"
"I'm not sure," he said with disappointment, "but whatever happens, just know that you can't control what he thinks. I know he means a lot to you, and I know how much he cares about you. I'm sure with time he'll realize how immature he's acting and realize that he can't make you pick between us. I'm in disbelief, honestly."
"Yeah, so am I." You laughed. Now, you were just crying out of exhaustion. Tired of all the fighting, all the games Sam was playing with you, all of the words Josh would say to try and console you. It was all too much for you. "I just want to sleep. Can't keep crying over this because it's stupid."
He let you leave his grasp and you made yourself comfortable in his bed, turning on your side and allowing him to wrap himself around you from behind. He held your back close to his chest, pressing kissing on your head every now and then. Your crying came to an end quickly, and you were finally able to rest your eyes.
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With a few days passing since your encounter with Sam, he had been a bit less distant. Although he was still keeping his distance from you guys, he'd come down and join you all for meals, and even once or twice sitting by the fire at nights with you three. He hadn't talked much since the day you both fought, but he at least acknowledged you all with a quick glance and smile.
You tried making small talk to him, even though there was no point. Even the twins tried to get him to speak, but to no avail. He wasn't budging, and it was just upsetting to see how he could become so ignorant because of his own frustrations.
There was even a time where Josh held your hand across the table at breakfast, and Sam came down to see the sight. You pulled away, and all Sam did was laugh and tell you both there's no need for pretending anymore. And, after that, he made himself some toast and ate in his bedroom.
Seeing where he left the rooms empty was disheartening. It was as if he wasn't there at all, even though you knew he was. All you wanted was for your best friend to be content with you, and maybe with these past few days of separation, he was overthinking everything that happened.
When the trip had landed to only one week left, Sam came back for breakfast and took his usual seat next to you at the dining table. You didn't let it surprise you, nor did you make any comments about it. Going about the arrangement, you knew to act casual. But Jake and Josh just gave Sam a few looks and choosing not to say a word to him.
You knew Jake had gone to see him once or twice. Neither you nor Josh made the effort to talk to Sam because the agonizing grudge he was holding upon you two was still set in stone. Even if you considered it immature, you said all you could say to him. Apologies weren't going to cut it anymore.
He sat quietly next to you and swirled his spoon around in the small bowl that held a mixture of yogurt and oats. You were thankful to see him out of the corner of your peripheral, because you were able to predict that he had something on his mind. Maybe he was just uncomfortable, or maybe he was lost in thought.
He lifted his head up for a moment, taking in everyone at the table before returning his eyes to his plate. His mouth parted open for a moment, and it had you turning your direction to him. But he just shut his mouth and reserving his attention to eating.
"There's, uh, a winery nearby." Jake spoke up to slice the quiet atmosphere. "Figured we could check it out, you know, do something different."
You hummed. "Yeah, that sounds nice."
Josh also agreed with a nod. Then there was Sam, who had stayed mute still. You all three turned to him and waited for him to budge. But nothing. Jake and Josh, who sat opposite of you two, ignored his silence and continued to finish their meal. But you, you just kept your eyes glued on him. You were hoping that by looking at him, he'd grow upset and say something. Anything.
"Danny's coming." Sam muttered before taking a bite of his food.
"Well, maybe he can join us. It'd be nice to see him. Been a while." Josh chimed in.
Sam scoffed. "He's coming to get me."
All of you stopped your motions. Now, everyone had their eyes locked on him.
Sam continued to reiterate. "I'm leaving."
You placed your fork down on your plate, loud enough for it to ring against the ceramic material. "You're what?"
"You heard me. I'm leaving." He turned his head to you and watched your face falter. He continued to keep his focus on you for just a few seconds, then looking down into his bowl.
"Sam, you can't leave. You came here with us. You can't go because you're mad about Josh and y/n." Jake rolled his eyes as he tried to reason with his brother.
"This trip just isn't fun anymore." He shrugged. The chair screeched against the wooden floors as he stood from it. "No point in me staying if I'm just going to be miserable."
You looked up to him with your jaw partially hung low. "You're making Danny drive two hours because you can't get over it? Have, have you even thought about accepting it?"
"Oh, don't worry, I have." He tilted his chin down to you. "But I don't think I want to. Besides, I think you'll have a much better time here without me. Seems like you were able to when you were sneaking around with Josh."
"Sam-."
"No, no, it's okay." He cut you off and gave you a faux sympathetic look. "I understand where your priorities are; I get it. Fucking my brother is much more important to you than preserving our friendship. Fine by me."
He walked away from the table and emptied his bowl. You all gave each other odd glances in questioning. What were you to say to that when you were left in shock?
Jake stood from his chair. "Do you hear how immature you sound right now, Sam? Dude, get a grip."
"This doesn't involve you, Jake. It never did, so it's beyond me why they told you in the first place. Left me out of it and kept it a secret. Played along in their little sneaky shenanigans because you're just as shitty as the both of them." He pointed his finger at Jake. "I just don't want to be here with you three anymore." He glanced at you and Josh. "I'll be gone before you guys get back."
You cocked your head to the side in annoyance. "You're being dramatic, Sam."
"Well, call me what you want. But at least I never went behind your back and broke our trust. I would never do something as fucked up as that because I actually care about our friendship."
You had opened your mouth to speak, but he left before you could utter a sound. It was his way of telling you he was done with the conversation, and that you had no say in what his actions were. You reserved back to the two boys that sat in front of you, but both of their eyes were blown wide.
"He has no concept of sharing." Jake mumbled, to which Josh elbowed his arm and gave him a stern look.
You just ignored Jake's comment and stormed up to Sam's bedroom. With his door left opened, you stopped in your tracks to watch him pack his clothes without your presence being noticed. He seemed content with his choice while he absentmindedly folded his shirts neatly into a pile before plopping them into the suitcase.
Your heart tugged towards his direction, and you dragged yourself into his room.
"You're not seriously leaving, are you?" You spoke with concern. Although you were upset, you didn't have the energy to pick a fight with him and raise your voice.
"What does it look like?" He mumbled as he kept his eyes on his clothing.
"I don't want you to go. None of us-."
But he was sure to cut you off. "It doesn't matter. I've already made up my mind. Hope you have fun spending the rest of this week with the two people you care about most."
You rolled your eyes. "I care about you just as much, Sam."
All he gave you was a shrug with a light sarcastic smile. "I don't know what to believe anymore. I was able to trust you with everything, and now that you've shown me that I can't," he flicked his eyes down to you, "I don't want to find out what else you've been lying to me about."
You opened your mouth to speak, but you shut it with an aggravated whine. You knew there was no point in defending yourself. He wasn't going to give you the time of day to let you tell him that he was overreacting about everything. He was too stubborn to convince, so you gave up.
You walked back down the stairs and saw Jake and Josh conversing by the living room.
"He's really leaving." You threw your hands up. "I can't believe he's really leaving because of this."
"There's no point in pushing him any further," Josh began, "he's made up his mind on how he wants to handle it. Nothing we can do now."
You scoffed. "And you said that we'd be able to fix this. You said that you had it all figured out and that I wouldn't have to worry. But here we are, with Sam pissed at all of us because of this stupid relationship, and him having Danny drive two fucking hours because he can't be in the same house as us anymore."
Jake walked off. He knew it wasn't his place to be in this conversation anymore, so he gave you and Josh the space that you two needed.
Josh took a few steps towards you and lowered his voice as he spoke. "You can't expect this to all be okay in a matter of seconds, y/n. You and I both are well aware that Sam is beyond obstinate about everything. He just needs time to think about it and space. That's all we can give him. I-I don't know what else you want from me."
You huffed. After all, he was right. You were just frustrated that time wasn't on your side. Hell, when was it ever?
You wrapped your arms around his neck, and in return, he brought you into an embrace with his hands enveloped around your back. You were hopeful that the closeness between you two would help you relax.
"I'm just so upset about all of this. It's annoying that there's nothing we can do about it. It's out of our hands, out of our control, and I'm pissed. I just wish I could just wake up from this nightmare and have everything be okay." You said into your arm that closed off Josh's neck.
He placed a kiss on the side of your head. "I wish that's how the world worked. All we can do now is be hopeful that he'll come around."
You maneuvered your head to meet in front of his. You gave him a small understanding smile, along with a soft peck on his lips. This would've never happened if you told Josh you didn't care what Sam thought. This wouldn't have happened if it weren't for you. And here you both were, standing in the same spot that held the exact moment that your guys' first kiss took place at. That damned kiss was the beginning of the downfall of you and Sam, as dramatic as it sounds. But it was true. Now, holding your eyes with Josh's, you couldn't help but wonder if this was all a mistake.
⊱ ━━━━.⋅ εïз ⋅.━━━━ ⊰
series taglist: @gvfleetwood @sacredjake @aureatopia @myeyehurtz @alexiagx @objectsinspvce @unhappycylinder @spinthehemmo @carbonwritingthroughtime @thecoldwind @ageofsophgvf @fakeplastiqtree @thepritchardscale @gvfpal @light-myluv @raviolilegs @jordierama @alwayskiszka @absolutely--mental
other tags: @ageofhearingloss @mountain-in-springtime @ignite-my-fire @gvfsstardust @jakesguitarsolo @fallonfatality @gold-mines-melting @digitalcalamity @demolitionndann @lipstickitty @lexii-nv-c @joopsworld @ryrybaby @hellowgoodbye @writingcold @stardustcatcher @absolutely--mental @loverleaverslayerbeliever @hippievanfleet
-part eight-
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Text
You falling asleep on them after a long day
Characters: Jean / Yelan / Ei x gn!reader (separate)
Warnings: none, just fluff
a/n: I scrolled through some old posts of mine and found a request someone sent in when my requests were closed a few months ago, and it just seemed too cute not to write it. It was requested by @khanhlinh6809
If there are any mistakes, I'm really sorry. It's pretty late and I'm honestly really tired, that's also the reason why it's a bit shorter than my usual posts.
Anyway, hope you enjoy!
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Jean
While Jean had noticed your signs of exhaustion the moment, she laid eyes on you that evening, it was fair to say that she hadn’t expected you to nod off the moment the two of you sat down on your couch.
At first, she couldn’t help but freeze, her face to heating up, once she remembered how often she had read about such situations in the romance novels she liked to read whenever she needed to a quick and effective way to de-stress from all of her work. And while she felt embarrassed to admit that she had always silently dreamed of being in such a situation herself, she had imagined her to be the one to fall asleep on the other person’s shoulder, not the other way around.
When she finally somewhat managed to calm down, the next issue at hand was what she should do. She could just follow suit and close her eyes, and while the couch was far from the worst places, she fell asleep on, the bed with her favourite pillow, sounded much better. But she also soon realised that trying to move you to bed would most likely result in you waking up, you were somewhat of a light sleeper after-all, and the alternative of sneaking off herself and leaving you to sleep alone also left a bitter taste in her mouth.
But as her inner monologue dragged on, Jean’s own eyelids started to feel heavy, and before long she began resting her head against yours before falling asleep and mumbling out a few last words.
“Good night, my love.”
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Yelan
Naps have always been one of Yelan’s favourite past-time activities, especially after completing a tiring task or finishing her workload at once. So, when you fell asleep on her after finishing a workload even she couldn’t help but shudder at, she was more than considerate.
That being said, the schedule she had made for the day technically required her to get to work, and while she thought about actually following it for a few seconds, she eventually decided that work could wait. There were still a few weeks until she needed to be done with it, after all, so it wouldn’t hurt anyone if she simply did it another time. Her schedule couldn’t have possibly predicted your sudden decision to use her as a pillow, after all.
But while she’d have to remake her schedule because of you, the time spent sitting motionlessly by Yelan was far from a waste of time, especially after you began mumbling a few words while asleep, and while they weren’t coherent, the whole situation being more similar to someone reading out random words from a dictionary than actually saying anything, it still amused her.
“And? How was your sleep?”, she asked you once she felt the weight lift from her shoulder as you finally awoke, instantly starting to blush once you realised what had happened.
Yes, she was going to have a field-day with this.
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Ei
While you falling asleep on Ei was far from rare, you clearly remembered how hesitant you were to do so at first, the thought of resting on your god seeming semi-sacrilegious to you. The goddess in question didn’t have anything against it however, seeing it as a nice way to spend more time with you, and while you weren’t awake, your simple presence was enough to make Ei feel at peace.
When you finally fell asleep against Ei’s shoulder, she immediately moved your head over on her lap, enabling her to have a better look at your sleeping face. Normally the Archon would use the time you spent asleep for her meditation, but this time, Ei’s eyes never stopped staring at your face, and before she had even noticed herself, her fingers slowly began running through your hair, as her mind wandered off to all kinds of memories.
Memories from centuries ago and memories of just a few days ago, some of them happy, some of them not, all of them found themselves in Ei’s mind, and while those containing her sister and friends were still by far her favourites, the ones she shared with you were the ones, that consistently brought a smile to her face.
But her memories eventually were interrupted when she felt something grab her other hand, only for Ei to be greeted by a tired smile of yours when she was brought back to the real world, making her realise how long she spent silently looking at your face.
“Good morning, Ei”, you greeted before letting out a small yawn, instantly covering your mouth with your other hand before giving her yet another smile. “Good morning.”
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astroluvr · 2 years
Text
i can't sleep, so how about a short blurb about the first time sleeping over at jack's?
***
"Y/N, are you awake?" Jack asked, turning his head against your cheek as you blinked your eyes open.
You completely underestimated the quality of Jack's couch and the day you had. It was Jack's first weekend in his new house and although you had been over before, he wanted you to come over and have a personal housewarming that consisted of ordering take-out and eating it the minute it came through the door and watching Real Housewives. Jack hadn't felt this relaxed in a long time.
"Yeah." you cleared your throat and turned in his arms, rubbing your eyes. "W-what time is it?"
"It's about eleven, why?" he answered, kissing the side of your head before you began to sit up tiredly.
"Oh, I should get home." you said to yourself, sitting up against Jack's chest as you looked down at the mess of Chinese and pizza.
Jack was quiet when you stood. He watched as you stumbled around tiredly, low grumbles coming out of your mouth every few seconds. When you had your shoes on and yawned once more, you handed Jack your phone.
"Can you get me an Uber? My card and everything is saved. I have to use the bathroom." you mumbled, your sentences hardly coherent as you trekked down the hall to the bathroom.
Jack stared at your phone and tapped his foot against the floor. The two of you had been dating for three months and neither of you could deny the almost magnetic pull between you. Even though you were close, you were both afraid of making the wrong move at the wrong time on behalf of strong feelings.
When you returned, you saw Jack staring at your lock screen- a picture of the two of you after one of his shows. The two of you started dating towards the end of his tour, so you surprised him at his last show. It was a gorgeous picture taken by Urban that was very telling of how the rest of your relationship would go.
"Are they on the way?" you asked, allowing Jack to pull you into his lap.
"I didn't order it."
"What? Why? I have to get home, Jack."
"You can stay here. I don't feel comfortable with you being in a car alone with a stranger so late, especially when you're about to pass out. I'd drive you myself if I wasn't so tired."
You didn't listen to any of Jack's protective reasoning after he invited you. "That's really sweet, Jack, but I can't stay."
"It's just eight hours. I'll drop you off as soon as you're ready tomorrow."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, my girlfriend who I adore, I'm sure I'm okay opening up my home."
You giggled and Jack smiled at the rasp. "Okay, thank you."
"Course. Are you ready to go upstairs?"
"Yes, please." you murmured.
You and Jack split for a few moments to clean up and make sure nothing would be left running over night before meeting back upstairs.
Jack had showered before you came early in the evening, so he was pretty much already in his pajamas, just taking a few moments to strip out of his shirt and sweatpants. You on the other hand, got showered and got into the thickest pair of sweats you had.
"Which one do you want to wear tonight, baby?"Jack held up two shirts and you shrugged.
"It doesn't matter."
"We both know you're going to keep this shirt and never-"
"The brown one." you interrupted and Jack smirked before throwing the shirt and a pair of boxers your way.
They were ratty tee shirts that had been weathered over the years and Jack trusted you to finish the job. He tried not to watch as you stripped down, but the mirror was hard to avoid. Luckily, he was too tired to even make a crude remark when you bent over to slide on the boxers.
"Which side is yours?" you asked him, allowing him to turn around and examine the expanse of his bed.
"Whichever side you don't want to sleep on."
"This side." you pointed and crawled onto the opposite end.
"You sure? Because whenever you sleep over, and if we ever move in together, that's your side. You can't be all up on mine."
"You can't be all on mine." you rebuttaled with a smirk and Jack sucked his teeth. "Oh, don't even. All you ever want to do is cuddle."
"We'll cuddle in the middle."
"Sounds like a deal." you murmured and Jack got into bed first before holding his hand out. You quirked an eyebrow and he did the same.
"Deal, right?"
Skeptically, you leaned into the bed to grab his hand, but he quickly decieved you. You squealed loudly when he yanked you into bed and into his arms. His laughs sounded like pure honey to you as you squirmed.
"Jack Harlow!" you exclaimed, finally escaping his hold. "You are literally insane. This is the last time I stay here."
"Your place next time, then?" he threw an arm around your side and was able to lay you down with him against the pillows.
He exacted the middle of the bed before pulling you close to his bare chest and you threw your leg around his hip.
"How about we form our opinion on our first night together?"
"My opinion is formed. We'll have to discuss weekend alternations."
You giggled and Jack smiled. "If you keep massaging my back like that, I think we can work something out."
"They do call me masseuse Jack."
"I thought they call you missionary Jack."
"One truth and a lie." he raised his eyebrows suggestively and you rolled your eyes. "It's probably hard for you to figure out though."
"Jack, turn that light off, so we can sleep." you chuckled and Jack laughed a little louder and turned to turn off the lamp on his nightstand. "Good night, baby."
"Good night." he spoke against your throat as you kissed his forehead.
When you tried to untangle your bodies, Jack's grip on the underside of your knee around his hip tightened. "Jack, what?"
"Where are you going?"
"To my side."
"We can sleep on sides next time. This time, I want you to be the first face I see when I wake up tomorrow. Remind me I'm not dreaming."
You were lucky that the darkness of the room cloaked the smile.k. your face. You pursed your lips and ran a hand through his curls.
"Alright, J. I'll see you in the morning."
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dgalerab · 1 month
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Do you have a story in mind of how Aizawa got kidnapped or why they wanted him? Did he wake up like that or did he fight as they bound him? Did he struggle against his bindings a lot during his captivity? What was he feeling and thinking about this whole time? The people need to know 👀
Also I love how you drew his expression so much he looks so tired and defeated 🥺 Sir what did they DO to you?
i always have a million ideas in mind for why aizawa might have gotten kidnapped, my brain churns them out by the dozens.
but i feel like in this instance they probably got him while he was walking home from work. i feel like even in the rooftop agency au the guys all have second jobs - aizawa's being teaching, mic at the radio and shirakumo doing extra rescue work on the side, and later mic and shirakumo have three jobs including teaching and aizawa is like no I'm going to bed. so they'd have somewhat different schedules and i think there could be a moment when aizawa is out and about alone
i also feel like in an au where afo doesn't have a perfected nomu yet and is still interested in erasure there could be a sort of quiet "rumor" that getting erasure could get you a lot of money or power. it couldn't be too official or it would likely be picked up by underground heroes, so it wouldn't be something they necessarily deal with all the time but there could be an unfortunate set of circumstances where aizawa happens to be alone in a situation that's not ideal for him - somewhere enclosed like a bank or store with scared kids where he has to take the fight head on, in full view, and reveal his quirk early, and split his focus to keep others safe, AND he happens to be up against someone physically strong outside their quirk who has heard of this rumor
and in that case if he gets overpowered and taken away, i think he'd first be annoyed he slipped up enough to be overpowered, then relieved the situation is being taken away from civilians, and then he'd be doing the math on how long it will take the others to notice he isn't at home, figure out where he was last and then track him down
i think it wouldnt be until a few hours into being bound and blindfolded that he'd start to notice his mind wandering to wishing he was at home with the cats and how yamada might be handling this, and then he immediately shakes it away. he'd probably attempt to cat nap to stay somewhat coherent but it's difficult even for him with injuries from the fight and being tied up. and though i think he would compartmentalize the shit out of the thought until he's safe, he would NOT enjoy being blindfolded long term, would be constantly jumping at the smallest noises. same with hoping for rescue, he's just very severe with himself like that's not an actionable thought, they either find me or they don't and it should have no influence over my actions.
and yes along the same line of thought he'd absolutely be trying to escape his bindings the whole time. possibly even does but i drew him with an injured foot so maybe he's caught hobbling and crawling out and tied up even tighter. I feel like he'd be so sleep deprived at that point he keeps having to shake himself awake - knows he needs sleep but doesn't want to sleep too deeply to be able to fight back at a moment's notice
also i feel like when he does get rescued he achieves a near perfect zen state upon hearing hizashi's voice bc he's just like any thought i may have in this moment is too dangerous and irrational. all rejected. completely clears his entire brain to avoid having Irresponsible Feelings. maybe that's the expression there, the absolute panicked nothing going on in that man's skull.
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cambria-writes · 10 months
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hello hello! i have been able to deliver on my promise!
this whole entire affair should be wrapping up in the next like... two? chapters? so this is the home stretch, pals!
also for reference—even if this means i'm probably going to have to edit the few chapter or two—this is the best house layout i was able to find that made sense for me.
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader rating: T warning: swearing, mention of death, reader's afab but doesn't have much description, traumatic reactions and mild episodes, a whole lot of relief tbh word count: 3,571
Previous Next Masterlist
𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝕾𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖓: ℜ𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫
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Even an hour after their arrival, you can tell that the Cali kids are breathing life back into everyone. It’s like everyone can suddenly function better, more coherently; like somehow a missing limb was returned. Though you can observe the effect, you feel like you’re maybe too far removed from everyone to experience it yourself.
You’re just... so tired.
You crash on the couch on and off. Occasionally, one of the girls will nudge you awake to drink some water. Max brings you a bag of chips. Eddie comes to lay a hand on your head almost every 15 minutes. Doesn’t say anything, just crouches by the couch, puts a hand on your head and frowns to ask if you’re okay. When you’re conscious enough to hum or nod. When you’re just teetering on the edge of sleep, he huffs and goes back to whatever he was doing.
When you muster enough discipline and strength, you force yourself to sit up and look around. The couch has been dragged back to where you assume it was meant to be. The holes in the roof have somehow been patched up, though only with tarps for now. Almost all of the dust, dirt, leaves and other debris have been cleaned out, and the windows cursorily cleaned. The kitchen looks somewhat useable now, and there are suddenly a lot more blankets and pillows than there were before.
“Welcome back, sleepy head,” Eddie says, nearly throwing himself down on the couch next to you. “Doin’ okay?”
Hum and rub at your eyes, still itchy and dry despite the rest. “I’m alright,” you start, covering your mouth while you yawn. “I think. I’m exhausted, my ankles itch like fuck and the rest of me feels sore but...” You shrug and Eddie nods in understanding. “Any news on what that earthquake was?”
“Oh oh oh!” Dustin comes rushing in from behind the couch. “You know about the mind flayer, right?” You barely open your mouth to confirm before he excitedly continues. “So we know that Vecna was using the Upside Down to try and jumpstart an apocalypse, but what happens when Vecna dies?”
“...nothing’s controlling the mind flayer anymore,” you answer slowly, with a frown.
“Boom! Right! So what happens when the mind flayer doesn’t have something to give it an actual shape? It goes all over the place!”
You wait for Dustin to keep going, but he just stands there, hands out in front of him like he’s waiting for you to actually complete the train of logic for him. Eddie sighs next to you and leans forward, elbows on his knees.
“What Henderson is trying to say,” Eddie starts staring pointedly at Dustin. “But is being too big of a showboat to, is that their little Jean Grey back there had to beat the mind flayer into submission before closing the whole town up.”
You gape at the two of them in turn.
“You’re telling me Eleven, still walking around and smiling like everything’s hanky-dory, beat the mind flayer and then immediately proceeded to force all the gates shut, and that the sheer, unadulterated force of her psychic whiplash caved half the town in on itself.” Dustin nods enthusiastically and Eddie shrugs. You settle into the couch and cross your arms. “That’s the epitome of unfair.”
“What do you mean? You think you could’ve taken it on yourself?” Dustin asks, aghast and looking at you like you’ve sprouted another head.
“Wha—no, fuck no!” You sigh and gesture vaguely at yourself before letting your hands fall in your lap. “I teleport a few times and I feel like I need to sleep for a week. And she just—and she’s fine?”
Eddie and Dustin both are already on their way to rip you a new one, for some reason, when Steve comes running in through the front door, heading for your pile of pilfered firearms and weapons while instructing Nancy and Robin.
Apparently there’s a truck coming up to the cabin.
“How do you know it’s a truck?” You ask, turning around on the couch. “And coming here?”
“Nothing out here,” Steve answers shortly, double checking that the rifle he has in hand is loaded. “Smells like shit, too. You can smell the exhaust.”
It doesn’t take long; Eleven is strategically hidden behind doors and furniture, Steve and Nancy are at the bottom of the front steps with guns in hand. Robin’s got a pistol that suspiciously looks like a Beretta, the kids—the kids have knives, right, that’s fine. Absolutely fine and won’t—alright.
You grab a knife for yourself—a paring knife, which isn’t much but at least is better than nothing—and take your place by the front door, opposite Jonathan. When you hear gravel crunching under heavy tires, you shoot him an anxious look. He glances through what’s left of the screen door and...
And does a double take?
You go to grab for Jonathan’s arm and spit something about being stupid and reckless but stop in your tracks when you see Joyce throwing the passenger door open and stomping out.
“Jonathan?”
“Mom? I thought you were in Alaska—is that Murray?”
“Please put your guns down!” A voice anxiously calls from what you assume is the back seat.
Steve and Nancy all but throw their weapons to the side. The truck’s engine is finally killed. You don’t even have time to process who the hell it is that’s stepping out of the driver’s seat before Eleven goes barrelling past you.
And right into Chief Hopper’s arms.
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It’s... a lot to catch up to, once everyone gets around to it.
The explosion, Hopper surviving, Joyce getting a message from a turncoat proxy—it’s dizzying. Nevermind the fact that, apparently, the reason why everything went quiet in the Upside Down long enough for Steve, Nancy and Robin to kill Vecna was because some crazy motherfucker used a god damn flame thrower.
You pay rapt attention when Hopper talks about the tanks, though. Because you remember those, kind of. A piece of a fragment of a dream from a while ago. How some of the dogs and demogorgons were kept in suspension. You swallow past the uncomfortable lump in your throat.
Eventually, Joyce seems to remember who and what she is and starts corralling everyone into separate vehicles. Time to go home and let your parents know you’re all still alive. As you rush to get your shit together to leave, you hear Hopper mutter something about there never having been this many cars in front of this place before.
“Without a giant monster on the loose,” you quip back before you can help it, and you immediately freeze and go to offer an apology. But the Chief just chuckles and shrugs it off.
“Yeah. Without a giant monster trying to kill us all. Again.”
You take the dismissal—and maybe the feeling of being acknowledged..?—and run out the door with it.
Joyce gets the kids—Mike, Nancy, Lucas and Erica—and gives Will, Jonathan and Eleven hugs strong enough you think you can hear their ribs creak. She sets off with them after hesitantly taking the keys from the van from the stoner—Argyle.
(You like Argyle. He’s a nice, sunkissed reminder that the world isn’t shit absolutely everywhere or all the time. He hasn’t even freaked out a single time since he arrived with the rest of the Cali crew. Not once. You find yourself wondering just how much shit they’d all had to go through to make it back to Hawkins, for a bystander to be relatively nonplussed by everything going on.)
Jonathan, Will, Hopper and Eleven stay behind. Steve volunteers to take Dustin and Robin home.
And so you and Max clamber up into the truck after Hopper tosses Eddie the keys. Before he turns them in the ignition though, Eddie twists around to look back at Max, in the backseat.
“So where...” he starts awkwardly, and where you would’ve expected Max to shrug it off and say it didn’t matter, she takes a deep breath instead.
“The, uh, the high school. They’re using it as a shelter. She’s probably...” Max trails off and you bite your tongue and twist your fingers in your lap. Eddie nods, twists the key and the truck rumbles to life.
It’s old and clunky and the suspension’s shit. Driving out of the woods into Hawkins is miserable, and not much better afterwards. The faults that split open around town aren’t... as bad as you somehow figured they would be. The one that you assume is at lover’s lake can’t even be seen from where you are. Regardless, though, the earthquakes were enough to crack pavement in a few too many places. There are still water mains broken and spewing water on the edge of town, but as you drive in, towards the school, there’s less untreated damage.
Nevertheless, it sets a pit in your stomach you can’t shake. This could’ve been worse. Eddie pats the side of your side with the back of his hand when he catches your mind drifting a bit too far.
“I’m—”, you try, but your voice cracks. Clear your throat and start again. “Fine. ‘m fine.”
“You sure sound like it,” Max quips from the back, but it’s quiet and subdued, like she’s not sure that making a joke right now is actually the right thing to do. You turn to look at her and slap a hand on Eddie’s shoulder.
“Compared to this bitch and Harrington? I’m perfectly fine, unscathed, even!”
Max snorts and Eddie swats your hand away with a scoff. You smile a bit; the rest of the drive is a lot easier with a lighter mood. When Max eventually hops out of the car, you follow her without much of a second thought. When you notice Eddie doesn’t follow though, you walk over to the driver’s side and knock until he rolls the window down.
He keeps his eyes ahead and doesn’t look at you. He seems...
“Oh fuck,” you whisper, taking a quick look around the street. There thankfully aren’t too many people milling around, but that probably won’t last. You can’t believe you forgot he was on the hook for murder. You’re note going to think about how you were supposed to accessory to it, too.
“Yeah, so I’m just gonna...” Eddie drums his fingers on the steering wheel before suddenly pitching the seat back.
“...nap it out and pray no one looks in here?” you offer, and all you get in return is a grunt. You bite the inside of your cheek for a second. “I’ll be back in a bit. Max might take longer or stay here, I think.”
“She should probably stick around here.” You nod quietly, not that Eddie can see you. You take a deep breath and tap the door to announce your departure. You get the tiniest bit of a wave.
The second you walk into the gym, it feels like cognitive dissonance. You’re used to this place being too bright and too spaceous and too damn loud, but now it’s just... injured folk, displaced people, cots everywhere, a small soup kitchen off to the side, boxes coming in filled with god knows what.
You feel like you’re looking at the aftermath of a small natural disaster. You shake yourself back into focusing, just for a second, long enough to spot a familiar head of red hair half buried in someone’s arms.
Good.
You keep close to the walls to avoid getting in the way. More and more people seem to be coming in carrying boxes of various things—mostly clothes and toiletries, from what you can see. You let your eyes trail after the last person to walk in with a box. Watch them walk up to a set of tables near the back wall, directly opposite you.
And you watch the box be handed directly to your father. Next to him, your mother writes a few things down on a clipboard and smiles at the box owner.
You don’t realize you’ve started to move forward until your shoulder clips against someone making a hasty exit. You stumble forward a bit, but try to spin around as fast as you can when you catch the distinct sound of a stack of papers hitting the ground.
“Oh fuck,” you breathe, rushing over to the form hunched over the stack of papers spilled on the ground. “I’m so sorry, I wasn’t...” You let yourself trail off when you take a look down at the few other papers you were able to get and stack together.
It’s grainy and the contrast is shit from being copied so much, but it’s very clearly Eddie’s face staring back at you. When you look up, Wayne Munson’s eyes look glazed over for a second, before he sighs, grabs the papers you’ve been holding, and stands back up with a groan.
Wayne puts a hand on your shoulder and seems like he’s got something quippy to say, but he stops with his mouth open. You see him look you over, from the top to the bottom and back up again. He frowns and looks back where he clearly knows your parents are, back down to you.
“Do your folks know?” You shake your head and keep quiet when you nod to the door. Wayne takes a deep breath and shrugs but nods.
A few steps outside, you point out the truck that Eddie is still inconspicuously lying down in.
“You’ll wanna knock on the driver side,” you add, clearing your throat and clasping your hands behind you. “I’ll, uh, I—”
“Your folks are worried sick,” Wayne says, placing a hand on your shoulder and turning you back towards the doors. “Get.”
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Seeing your parents again after what feels like aeons is... honestly? It was wonderful. You finally felt like you did before this entire debacle. Your mother held you tight and your father held you both tighter. It was nice, for once in recent history, to be suffocated by someone’s kindness rather than the sick air of another dimension.
Your mother leaves your father and brother—who’d just come back from a supply run in Indianapolis—to take care of donations and whatever else it is they were doing in the school gym. She takes you straight home and practically shoves you into the bathroom on the first floor to shower and bathe.
The door clicks shut behind you and you stare down at the change of clothes—warm, fleecy sweatpants you know are your brother’s and an oversized sweater you know is your dad’s—and two of the fluffiest towels that are usually only reserved for guests at Christmas.
You put the clothes down on the console by the sink and let your fingers play with the towels. Pulling at threads. Pressing them against you, feeling their softness, squishing to feel the give.
Something so stupid and insignificant—you already feel yourself choking up. And then you look up at your reflection in the mirror.
You wish you could say you can’t recognize the person in the mirror as being you. But you can. Despite everything—the dried blood under your fingernails, the scrapes and scabs along your legs and arms, the oily hair, the bruises under your eyes from a broken nose faded to a pale yellow—it’s still you.
Your vision swims and your breath gets shorter. You made it. You made it. To the other side, or—or back from the other side. And no one else. No one else died.
Chief Hopper is fucking alive.
You let yourself sob into the towels for a few seconds before trying to kick yourself into gear. You need a hot shower, and you need to wash this all off. Distantly, as you undress and turn the water on, you wonder if maybe you shouldn’t be going through decon. If maybe you should be asking Hopper or Joyce or anyone else to call whoever the hell they know in the government or whatever to help... clean you up, or something.
But all that goes out the window the minute you step under the spray of hot water. You force yourself to breathe through lathering your hair, use your mother’s pumice stone to scrub at your arms, legs, chest and back, as far as you can reach. Lather everything again. The water starts to sting.
You think you can smell bacon cooking, even through the misty haze of bodywash and shampoo.
You spend the rest of the hot water tank sat at the bottom of the tub, knees pulled close as tight as you can manage, and you sob. Grossly, loudly.
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You call Harrington, and somehow, through some small miracle, it goes through. He’s home fine. Parents have been out this whole time. He’s about to head out the door; you hear Robin in the background complaining about rabies, again. Off to the hospital, then.
Through him, you find out that all the kids have reached home safe and sound. Nothing about Eleven and the Byers, but that’s to be expected. Not exactly like the cabin was still hooked up with phone service. Or electricity.
Your hand automatically reaches to dial the Munson household. You’re halfway through the number before you slowly put the phone back on its cradle on the wall. Your mother peeks out of the kitchen. Slowly, like she’s scared she might scare you.
“Everything... everyone alright?” You huff and try to offer a small smile when you nod.
“Yeah. Yeah I think so,” you reply quietly, turning to rest your back and head against the wall. “I just don’t know about the Munsons.”
“Oh, Wayne?” Your mother asks, and she throws a towel over her shoulder as she exits the kitchen to come stand next to you against the wall. “Your father and I already offered him the guest bedroom.”
“You what?”
You mother fumbles for a bit for an answer and does her best impression of someone who doesn’t feel profoundly reprimanded.
“W-well, when the earthquake—your father was...” Your mother shakes her head and starts over. “Things like this remind people of who they can count on.” You make a quiet “ah” and nod your head. “I don’t like the look on your face right now,” you mother says, and when you turn to look at her, she looks... sad. Desperate. You lean into the warm palm that comes up to cup your face.
You grab her wrist to keep her hand there and keep your eyes closed against the burning behind them. You swallow thickly.
“It’s been a week,” you choke out, trying to clear your throat of the lump in it.
Slowly, you mother pries you off the wall and into one of the chairs at the table. She pulls another chair in close to sit by you, a hand squeezing one of yours in your lap and another rubbing circles on your back.
(Crazy how over a week ago, this house and its people felt almost cloying. Right now you can’t remember the last time you felt so safe.)
“Do you... do you want to talk about it?”
You open your mouth to speak, but stop when you realize you don’t know what to say. Even if you told the truth, how—what way did you even have to prove it? Was that even legal? Did any of the kids’ parents know, besides Joyce and Hopper?
The look on your face must be something between shock and terror; your mother leans back with a concerned expression.
“Honey, what—”
“I don’t,” You try. Shake your head and try to blink yourself into focus. “I’m not sure I’m allowed to talk about it.” You end up whispering, pulling your hand away to rub at your eyes.
“Baby, what do you mean allowed?”
You bite your lip and take a deep breath. Wayne’s probably already been visited by whatever secret government group knows about El and the lab, if only just because he had a damn gate in his home. All the other kids probably... all of them probably know the song and dance by now, for having been through this so many times before.
You have no idea what protocol is for this kind of thing.
“I’ll talk about it when I can—when I’m ready,” you state quietly, and you do your best to make your voice sound firm. It must work at least a little bit, because though your mother sighs in that way that parents do when they’re not told what’s going on, she doesn’t press the issue.
You let yourself sit in silence for a few minutes before pushing yourself to your feet. Your mother makes a fuss about sitting down while she gets breakfast plated for you—though it’s really more of a late brunch at this point—but you put a hand out in front of you to stop her.
“Do we still have dad’s old radio in the basement?”
“Uh,” your mother flounders, stopping midstep into the kitchen. “I guess... I think it should still be hooked up, yeah. Hasn’t been used in a while. Why..?”
“I wanna see if I can reach—”
There’s a heavy knock on the front door. Your mother looks at you apologetically before rushing over to open it. You can hear her gasp and usher whoever it is inside. You wander down the hall after her but freeze when you see who your impromptu guests are.
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𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽
@bramblequill @storiesbyrhi @averagestudent03 @alovesongtheywrote @doratheignora
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mymccnknight · 2 years
Note
number 35 on the prompt list with marc pls
marc spector x gender neutral reader
prompt: "well fuck. didn't expect to be announcing my undying love for you this early in the morning."
warnings/content: love confession, requited love that is believed to be unrequited for a few seconds, fluff, one swear word, i'm not sure about anything else.
word count: 836
morning love confessions
You shifted in your sleep, feeling the faint warmth pressing against you, and before you could fall further into your dream, you began to wake up. It was quiet, save for the birds chattering outside, and peaceful. Your brain hadn't fully processed your surroundings yet, too foggy to think coherent thoughts, but you could tell you weren't in your own bed.
A warm weight moved against you and that's when it clicked--you were in Marc's bed. It wasn't a new development, you had been in his bed a few times before, but this time it felt different. More intimate.
Blinking your eyes open, you groaned at the sun bearing down intensely on you before tilting your head away to look at Marc, a smile making its way onto your face. He was still asleep.
His body was solid against yours and his face was hidden in your neck, his soft breaths tickling your skin, and an arm was wrapped around your waist to hold you close. There was no better way to wake up than feeling his relaxed body pressed against yours.
It wasn't long until he was waking up himself, his breaths noticeably changing in pace as he pushed himself even closer to you. "You're so warm," he mumbled, lips brushing against your neck.
"Well good morning to you too, sweetheart," you whispered, letting out a laugh as you pressed a kiss to the top of his head. He mumbled something incoherent and you laughed more, unable to stop smiling at how cute he was. "You're really sleepy, huh?"
He lifted his head from where it was buried in your neck, leaving you suddenly feeling cold, and looked you in the eyes, lips twitching up into a tired smile. "You're just so warm and cuddly."
"Did the Marc Spector just call me cuddly?"
"Yeah, yeah, don't get too excited," he murmured, rolling his eyes in an attempt to seem annoyed even as the grin on his face stated otherwise. He leaned down, pressing a soft, loving kiss to your lips, letting out a quiet hum. "And don't tell Steven I called you that, he'll laugh at me."
You deepened the kiss, trailing your hands up from his back into his messy hair. "You're really thinking of Steven right now?"
He groaned out a half-laugh, pressing one last peck to your lips. "You're so lucky I love you."
All the air left the room.
Or, at least, that's what it felt like. The two of you stared at each other, speechless and hardly even breathing, and for a moment you thought Marc might try to flee, but he didn't move an inch.
Instead, he let out a long shaky breath. "Well fuck. Didn't expect to be announcing my undying love for you this early in the morning."
"You're in love with me?"
His face morphed from one of shock to one of confusion, and you watched as he struggled to get his words out. Eventually, he settled with "Wasn't that obvious?"
"I... I don't know, should it have been?"
He huffed out a laugh, closing his eyes and dropping his head against your chest. "Sweetheart, we're in bed together. Naked."
"And? That doesn't necessarily mean we're in love."
You meant it as a simple statement but by the expression on Marc's face, he took it as something more. Curse you and your lack of filter. He leaned back, the hurt clear in his eyes even as he tried to hide it from his face. "You... you don't love me?"
Your stomach dropped. "What?" He couldn't be serious. "Of course I love you." There was a growing spark in his eye and his lips twitched, but he still didn't look fully convinced. "Marc, I'm fully in love with you."
The two of you stared at each other in silence, him still half on top of you, unable to figure out where to go next. Before the conversation could get any more serious, or perhaps take another turn for the worst, you cracked a smile, "I mean, we're literally in bed together... naked."
Marc let out a breath neither of you knew he had been holding and began to laugh, dropping his head back against your chest as he shook against you. You couldn't help but join in; his laughter was contagious. What could have been a tense moment that neither of you could come back from turned into something more, and all you could do was laugh in relief.
"God, I love you so much," he managed to get out after he calmed down, pressing his lips against yours. "So so much."
"I love you more."
He shook his head, climbing over you and resting his hands on either side of your head. "Impossible."
"Oh, yeah?"
"Yeah," he smiled, pressing another kiss to your lips. "I love you more, that's just a fact."
You kissed him more passionately, hands tangling in his hair. "Can't be a fact if it's wrong, babe."
"Well, good thing it's not wrong."
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yther · 3 months
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Two (or was it 3?) years ago I spent "christmas" and the next week in the same pair of clothes on a bed with no sheet or blanket and I used a trash bag when I was too cold. I weighed 20lbs less but I had muscle still. I wish I knew then what I knew now. I would go back to absolute hopelessness and scarcity if I could save myself from the people I'd meet or the person I was with.
But mostly, I regret that I gave up, I thought I had nothing more to lose when in reality I had my whole life, still. I had my life. I had a FUCKTON more health, even though I clearly took it for granted. And as much as I feel like I did back then, that I have nothing at all to lose, I have learned It can always get worse! AlWAYS!
Suicide is not reliable, brain damage sucks. So... Shit really really sucks this year and I promised myself that I wouldn't endure another, but I should break that promise..? I should find a way to survive. But I am so tired and hurt and angry. So confused.
I miss humanity. I miss... so much and I'll never understand what has been done to me or taken from me (at least to the full extent). I need to find my way back to some community, somewhere somehow. I need to fight this vicious isolation and recover from the harassment and violation. I need to "fight" - I'm not sure what that means anymore. I need to survive, and that itself is a fight I'm losing.
I don't see any path forward, but I know there is one..? I also know I have been terrorized and traumatized for so long I can barely speak coherently irl. I didn't sleep or eat and terror as an energy source has a hell of a price. I don't trust myself to think. Really think and make important decisions. I desperately need that ability but I'm only getting more exhausted and malnourished and broken and afraid..
Survival is resistance but <forever blinking cursor>
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tragedy-for-sale · 2 years
Text
Golden
He had a golden laugh, when the sun on his hair, it was golden, his eyes, though blue, had flecks of golds that simmered when one cared to noticed. Even in the dark, when light hit him, it was golden. He was golden.
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Cody never noticed this light, or rather, he didn't let himself notice it. For if he did, like he had right now, he'd get distracted. He got distracted. General Kenobi was laughing over something silly, a glass of gin in his hand. General Kenobi was never 'on-edge,' the general was always rather calm, but he was also always composed. Which is why this moment struck Cody curious. His General, patient, understanding, and all the good things in this galaxy, was also, right now, not collected.
Cody knew his general would feel embarrassed instantly if a Jedi such as General Koon or Mundi walked in, for his hair had fallen out of place, his robes were a bit shuffled, and how could Cody forget the second glass of gin? Cody was in the business of watching, with his helmet on he knew it was safe for him to study his general. If only for safety. Deep down Cody knew staring at his General's chest, where his skin had been exposed from his shuffled robes served no purpose, but that doesn't mean he'd stop.
"Oh, Anakin, that's ridiculous-" Obi-Wan chuckled, taking another drink, "If we attack from the south while your men come from the west, we trap them. All we'll need is a flight squad ready for the ridge-" battle plans.
"But it's reckless, Master, I mean, I guess I'm down for it, if you think it'll work?" Anakin asked, refilling his glass and topping off Obi-Wan's, "I could get Rex and a few of his boys some jetpacks, let 'em go wild?"
"Anakin, regardless of what we do, your men will inevitably go wild. So, my plan?" Obi-Wan smiled, taking a drink in satisfaction. He had hoped Anakin would agree, but he never had any doubt he wouldn't.
"It's a plan."
Cody stood there, listening to the Generals chat for what seemed like hours. But their chats had little coherency to anyone except the two of them. Cody didn't care though, he'd wait until General Kenobi was ready for bed because his General was no doubt drunk, which meant, for the General's safety, Cody would have to escort Obi-Wan to his quarters. What if he fell and someone other than Cody caught him? He couldn't have that.
"-Alright, Anakin, goodnight." Obi-Wan's voice cut through, catching Cody's attention. He stiffened to attention as Obi-Wan walked towards him. Cody felt a feeling, one of excitement as he saw Obi-Wan, disheveled and tired. "Commander? You're still awake?"
"Yes, Sir,"
"Well, you should be sleeping, come now, let's go." Obi-Wan needn't say another word. Cody felt his heart jump as he followed, too giddy to say a word. Cody wondered if Obi-Wan could sense his excitement just to be walking with him, but he figured he was the last thing on Obi-Wan's mind. Even though Obi-Wan was the only thing on Cody's mind.
They made small talk while walking back, Cody wouldn't remember about what, but he would remember Obi-Wan's laugh, patting Cody on the shoulder and tripping, tripping on his robe and Cody catching him. Cody catching him and freezing as he looked down to Obi-Wan, in his arms, looking up at him. "You must be more careful, General," Cody said as if it was instinct, he felt himself fill with a slight dread as he wished had hadn't said that.
Obi-Wan smiled, a giddy little chuckle following. "I suppose you're right," the two lingered here for a moment, Obi-Wan in Cody's arms, neither of the two minded. "But if you're here, I know you'll pick up where I lack."
"You don't lack anything general," Cody blurted, "You're perfect-" Cody felt his face heat, shifting to help Obi-Wan to stand again, "I mean, you're very careful, sir, and an excellent general, you fill your role very well.." Cody babbled as he felt himself grow very hot, ashamed.
But Obi-Wan was always understanding, so he smiled, thinking Cody's words sweet. Cody was golden, in Obi-Wan's eyes, Cody's brown eyes absorbed the sunlight as if it was his, shimmering in his eyes and dancing down his skin. Cody was Golden, beyond value to Obi-Wan, he'd fight a war for his Commander, to him, there was no treasure like the man walking him back to his quarters. There was no one, like Cody. "-Alright General, here we are." Cody spoke, opening the door for his General.
"Thank you, Cody," Obi-Wan smiled as he walked into his room before turning around and it was here they froze.
Perhaps they kissed as the two stood in the doorway. Obi-Wan might've pulled Cody into his room by his belt, kissing him gently as he did. Everything he did, he did it perfectly. But perhaps they didn't, so when Cody blinked, they were back where they left off, the two of them standing in the doorway, Obi-Wan looking down to Cody, waiting. Both had something they wanted to do, needed to do, but neither of the did, for neither of them could.
The silence between them had started to drive Cody crazy, this wasn't the first time Cody walked his General back to his quarters, hoping for the same thing every time. But nothing ever happened. Nothing ever happened. Cody grit his teeth, he was a soldier, programmed to be brave, so why the fuck was this so hard? Cody took a step forward, Obi-Wan didn't move, "General," Cody spoke in a whisper, he felt a shiver run up his spine as Obi-Wan leaned in to hear him better.
"Yes, Commander?" Obi-Wan whispered back, so close that Cody could feel Obi-Wan's breath hot on his skin.
Cody shifted as he tried to remember how to think, how to walk away, but Obi-Wan was waiting, and Cody knew he'd keep waiting for Cody. "I-" He looked over to Obi-Wan, his face so close to his, so close he could kiss him. So close Cody did kiss him. His heart pounded in his chest as Obi-Wan kissed him back. Obi-Wan kissed him back, he was gentle and soft and wonderful and- Cody pulled away, their eyes met instantly, Cody opened his mouth, he knew what he wanted to do, but he knew what he had to do instead. "I- I'm sorry sir, I-"
"Cody-" Obi-Wan inturrupted, instantly he understood. He always understood. "I know." Was all he said, for it was all he needed to say. For Cody knew what Obi-Wan did, they shouldn't have done that, but they did, and neither regretted it. "...Goodnight, Commander."
"Goodnight, General," Cody looked up before nodding. There was nothing else to say. Cody turned to walk away, glancing back to see Obi-Wan watching him walk away. There was a universe where Obi-Wan ran after him, kissing him and bringing Cody home to him. But that was not that universe. Cody walked away and Obi-Wan closed his door.
As he walked, Cody couldn't say he necessarily felt upset that they hadn't done more, because he felt a certain hope that it would happen again. And when it did, perhaps then they'd do more. But right now, Cody felt giddy, excited for something new, something new with Obi-Wan.
Cody felt a pang in his heart, an explosion of butterflies that shook him down to his core. The feeling of something he'd never felt before. The feeling of love. He loved this feeling, though he was scared, he loved the fear almost as much as he loved this feeling, because they went hand-in-hand. As Cody walked away, everything flashed again and again in his mind, everything they just did, the feeling of it all, Cody remembered, and as he stepped into the lift, he realized that he'd fallen like a fool. Falling like a fool in love because he was in love, he was in love with Obi-Wan and Cody couldn't help but to wonder,
If he loved him too
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doctorguilty · 8 months
Text
Nightmares
I feel asleep when i got home because I was tired and also started having an awful headache, but I slept so weirdly having weird and bad dreams and waking up a lot and falling back asleep, at one point I woke myself up because I was sleep talking (rare for me but when it does happen I tend to wake up from my own noise) and I vaguely remember I was having a dream where I was talking to someone random, but irl I whispered "you don't have to tell me if you don't want to" and it's weird getting woken up by my own sleep talking cause it's like there's an overlap where I'm still asleep saying it but I'm also waking up and aware mid sentence. Anyway idk it's usually a bad sign when that happens like it means I'm having weird stress dreams
I fell back asleep shortly after and I proceeded to have an awful nightmare, I dreamed I got dropped off at a store and I waited to get picked up but nobody came because they all fell asleep. It was 10 pm when I finally called someone because the store closed and I was just standing outside in the dark. My grandma picked up, I'd woken her up and I felt bad but she came to get me. For whatever reason everyone was staying at my mom's house, so that's where she was driving me home to.
My mom's house is kinda in the sticks irl, not horribly so, but the roads do get scary at night because they're windy and dark which is what I was dreaming about. We had driven SO long we should have gotten there by now but somehow we got lost. After turning around multiple times and seeing nothing we recognized I took out my phone to use Google maps but every time I typed in the address, it would route me to a completely different address. Like it didn't recognize the address and just "autofilled" what it thought I meant but it was unhelpful because I didn't recognize any of its suggestions. In the meantime my grandma kept driving, somehow unfazed and just saying things like "hm. Must've taken a wrong turn. It's okay I'll find it". I tried zooming in on the map and just manually looking but my service was poor and it was difficult getting street names and such to load. Sometimes I just had no service whatsoever and I just had to wait until it came back
In the meantime the road was so dark I was scared of crashing, a few times there was stuff that quickly crossed the road like deer though sometimes it looked like a small child or something and would just disappear into the darkness. Sometimes there was most definitely like adult people jogging alongside the road even though it in the middle of the night and I was scared we'd hit someone.
Any time I could get any coherent glimpse of the map it seemed like we'd gone 40 mins in the wrong direction, I suggested maybe we stop driving and wait until I could finally route us to the address but my grandma just calmly said it's okay don't worry she's just gonna keep looking
We were driving through like, tunnels and shit that don't exist in that area, sometimes we wouldn't see the road and accidently drive off it and like slide down a hill to a lower road. And she'd just keep driving.
It felt like hours and there'd be times where the sun was rising and we could see the roads a little better, but then suddenly it would become pitch dark again. (I don't recall seeing any kind of clock in the dream or even thinking about checking one.) My grandma never seemed distressed by any of this, which made it worse. She just kept calmly driving. Eventually in the dream I began to think I? We? Were dead and this was purgatory. Driving in the dark forever looking for my mom's house and never getting there.
Irl, I'd woken up SEVERAL TIMES, thought "oh thank God that dream is over" like very coherently, rolled over or whatever, fall back asleep, and the dream just continued where it left off in the car. It must have been 4 or 5 times this repeated before, finally, here I am now being like, I don't want to go back to sleep I'm awake I'm not getting back in the car
My head still hurts anyway so I should take some of my prescription medicine. And eat. Fuck
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twinklecupcake · 1 year
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I hope this isn't too many BUT! 6, 7, 9 for Pigsy and Tang. 2 and 18 for Xiaoqing. And 2 and 14 for Syntax (because I can and will throw him in).
THERE IS NEVER TOO MANY!
Pigsy + Tang (putting both answers together for coherency)
Favourite thing this character has said?
Pigsy: Just about any line that shows he does love and care about the rest of the cast. Like the worried/furious "You're supposed to be his mentor!" rant or the "You're pretty great to me."
Tang: The speech to Macaque in the lantern, yes, hello?
What do you like most about this character?
Pigsy: I mean this guy just appeals to me because he checks off my "acts like a jerk but never goes too far + actually does love everyone and they KNOW it" box. I remember first starting the show (to the joy of one of my friends, who'd been on it since the premiere) and thinking "Oh, great, he's a Jerk Boss, this is gonna be not fun." Aaand then I got to the part in the premiere when they all thought MK had been killed and was like "Oh. He's Boss Dad actually. Oh no, this is hitting one of my Character Appeal Buttons." and that was it.
Tang: He's. Multidimensional. He's so petty and passive-aggressive sometimes, but he loves his family. He casually insults people but he knows not to cross lines. He's got a bit of a superiority complex but ALSO is secretly insecure as hell about his place on the team? He gave no fucks about pretty demon ladies trying to flirt, like sorry ladies he's too gay for this. He got between Mei and a scary-as-hell Macaque and tried to protect her, even though he's squishy and knew he would have stood no chance, but he did it anyway without even thinking because she's basically his kid too.
He's the Blorbo I wasn't expecting to have.
What’s your favourite headcanon(s) for this character?
Pigsy: I've seen the headcanon that, whether he's a reincarnation of Zhu Baijie or the actual guy, he was under the "100 doomed romances" curse and that Tang was number 101 and so they're not doomed. idk why but I really like that headcanon?
Tang: I honestly love the headcanon that he's a college teacher. Actually I saw this headcanon so frequently that for a little bit I thought I must have missed something in the show and had to quickly double-check to see if it was canon.
Xiaoqing
What song(s) remind you of this character?
youtube
What’s something you associate this character with? E.g. a certain colour, object or scenery?
The color green (natch), bicycles, lilies.
Syntax
What song(s) remind you of this character?
youtube
What outfit would you really like to see this character wear? Or what’s your favourite outfit of theirs?
I'm gonna answer the first question: I wanna see this man in lazy wear. Let him wear sweatpants and a baggy college tee shirt and slippers. I mean I'm just pretty sure he doesn't sleep much anyway, surely sometimes he just isn't in the mood to do a lot of grooming or to look presentable. Sometimes he should be allowed to dress like a tired college programming student who just stopped caring this week.
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