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#-Your friends at the Maverick Motel

missathlete31 · 1 year

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Someone In Your Corner

Summary: Hangman, struggling to deal with his nightmares after the mission, goes for a run in the California heat. When he gets himself into trouble he finds a surprising ally on his side.

Aka if Maverick is MavDad meet DaggerMom

Hey look, yet another Jake Seresin Whump/Angst fic….. also known as the only thing I know how to write lol! Enjoy!

Two week after the Uranium mission and Jake "Hangman" Seresin was struggling. The Navy had given them all a month's worth of leave, a ridiculously long time in Jake's opinion but extremely sought after for all the others. There was a mandatory week of debriefs and discussions, most of which Jake hovered in the back and only answered when he was addressed directly, but then they were free to go. The whole squadron seemed to have gotten plane tickets to head back home, the suicide mission making a lot of them place things in new perspective. Jake of course would rather perform ten suicide missions than even think about going home to Texas. Javy had invited him back to New Orleans with him and his family but Jake declined. He loved the Machados; he spent enough holidays over there to think of them as the closest thing he'd ever get to a real family, but he knew Javy was still shaken up from his G-Loc incident and the mission in general. He deserved a chance to decompress with his loved ones instead of trying to entertain Jake.

So Jake waved his best friend off at the airport on the third day after the start of their official leave and went back to the barracks to find a notice on his door. It seemed that the temporary living quarters they were supplied for training was being revoked now that everything was over. Jake had vaguely heard one of the others talking about it at the bar but he didn't realize it applied to those that weren't going home as well. He assumed he would be allowed to hang around base, maybe convince Admiral Simpson (or at least the more agreeable Admiral Bates) to let him jump into a few hops to keep his skills sharp. Those plans were scrapped though as both Admirals informed him in no uncertain terms that none of the Daggers would be allowed back in the air until they were given the all clear from both medical and psych. Jake was already cleared on the medical end but all psych evals were to be conducted after the team returned from leave. He wanted to push to get his moved up but Cyclone only gave him that un-amused look that he usually reserved for Maverick, and Jake figured it wasn't worth the fight (he was still on shaky ground for disobeying direct orders on the carrier that day- and for getting the rest of the flight crew to go along with him).

So now not only was Jake alone on North Island, he was also forced to find new housing. With no real other options, he checked into a random motel that was far from luxurious with its outdated decor and questionable activities for it's by the hour patrons. Jake found he didn't mind though as long as he used his own sheets. Also besides a few quick visitors a few doors down, Jake was virtually on his own in his section. This was a huge benefit for the blonde pilot as he found himself dealing with an added difficulty now that the mission was over: debilitating nightmares.

It was embarrassing for him to admit but Jake had always struggled with nightmares. As a child in an abusive household he was always so tense and on edge, especially at night after his father had had a couple of drinks in him, that he found his dreams were filled with running away from monsters that looked vaguely like his parents until he woke up screaming. After receiving punishments for waking anyone up with his pathetic cries, Jake learned to muffle his terror to much quieter levels, though the nightmares always held a grip on him for those formable years. As he got older and into his teen years, Jake's real world seemed to be worse than any dream ever could be and sadly that was what quashed his night terrors for a few years at least. When he left home and joined the Navy he felt freer than he ever had in the world and he finally learned what the term 'sleep like a baby' really meant.

It didn't last for long though because after his first confirmed kill, Jake's nightmares came back. He was forever dreaming of being back in his plane, sometimes shooting down the Bogey, other times the Bogey catching him first. He had nightmares where he shot his wingman down instead, his whole squadron condemning him for the action. Other times it would be his squad shot him down because they were protecting themselves from Hangman leaving them like his call-sign dictated. These dreams circled through Jake's sleep cycle for weeks until Javy caught on before he was sent to ship out again and noticed the dark bags under his best friend's eyes. Though Javy knew better than to push Jake towards any sort of professional therapy from the Navy that could ultimately keep him grounded, he did force his best friend to talk to him more about what was troubling him and to find healthy outlets for his anxiety, fear, and guilt. Jake's favorite method became running.

Jake already enjoyed running from when he was a kid and needed an escape at home so using it to relax from work stress as well came fairly easy. He took to jogging around bases in the morning, night or whenever he just felt a little overwhelmed. Javy would join him if he was able, though normally he cut out about half the miles while jokingly calling Jake a robot for being able to run so much. It was therapeutic and it worked, especially when he ran at night, as Jake felt his body become so tired he went off to sleep without any dreams at all.

But then this mission happened.

First it was Coyote's G-loc; the sounds of Maverick trying to stir his best friend back to consciousness before he crashed into a mountain staying with Jake even during waking hours. In dreams it was worse, Maverick never getting tone in time, Coyote's scream over the radio before he burned up in his jet. Jake would wake up each time with tears in his eyes and would struggle to not call his best friend right there and then. Jake also dreamed of the bird strike. Though he pretended to be indifferent, he really did care about Phoenix, she was one of his oldest friends, dating back to his Flight School days. That nightmarish day, after being so close to losing Javy, to then hear her and Bob forced to eject, it broke something in Jake. His dreams featured the two not ejecting in time, or sometimes different pilots were up there but with the same results. The worst nightmare was when Jake was in the air with them and he listened to Phoenix scream at him that because he left them hanging, the birds hit their plane instead of his. Both Bob and Phoenix's last words were wishing it was Jake instead. Maverick would share the sentiment on the radio as the two planes watched the other go down. When Jake woke from that particular dream, he usually felt so gutted all he could do was sit up in silence.

There were moments from the actual mission that attributed to his night terrors as well of course. First it was Dagger one going down, the others blaming Jake for not being good enough that Maverick had to take the spot of team leader to ensure the others survived and therefore sacrificed himself. Then he would hear Dagger Two going down and there was the guilt of having Bradshaw die after all the mean things Jake had said and done to him. But the worst was Jake's rescue of Maverick and Rooster. Jake couldn't count the times he would close his eyes (both awake and asleep) and see the damn missile that was headed right for that old F-14. He never told anyone outside of his debriefs with the Admirals but that missile was shot and deployed and not even seconds away from killing both Captain Mitchell and Bradshaw. He had had no time to spare.

Every night during the week of debriefs Jake would dream of being too late, of watching that missile kill his CO and his wingman in a fiery blaze as bright as the sun. Jake would be forced to call on the radio that he hadn’t reached them in time, would land on the carrier not to celebration and hugs but dirty looks and tears. One night the nightmare was so bad, felt so real, that Jake actually called Rooster just to hear his voice. The groggy other pilot thought it was some kind of joke and didn't respond incredibly kind but Jake hung up the phone with tears of relief in his eyes anyway. He would take a sarcastic Rooster over a dead one any day.

Last night Jake dreamed of the man he shot down. His second confirmed kill but it wasn't any easier. He dreamed of the man's family, his children growing up fatherless like Rooster did. A whole family lineage cursing him for taking away the man they loved most. When he woke up Jake only had a few seconds before he was puking in his toilet, no chance of falling back to sleep again. His count of hours slept in the week at a sickening level. He knew he should be worried, knew that he should address his problems with someone but everyone else was dealing and he didn’t understand how he couldn’t. He wasn’t one of the Daggers, he wasn’t the one completing the suicide course. He didn’t go into G-Loc or get hit with a bird strike. He wasn’t shot down and he wasn’t stuck behind enemy lines and scrambling to get home. Jake was just the spare; sure he had a lucky shot, but he did nothing more. He didn’t deserve to bother anyone with his lack of sleeping. He would get it sorted, just like he always did.

As the day progressed and Jake's lids got heavier he thought about his techniques to combat his nightmares in the past and looked for his running gear. He hoped to kill two birds with one stone, run enough to clear his mind but also to make himself so exhausted he would fall asleep right away. The pilot put on his sneakers and reached for headphones before heading out the door. He knew it was going to be hot but the minute he was outside he felt like a wall of humidity was surrounding him. It wasn't the ideal running conditions but Jake grew up in Texas where heat was a part of everyday life. He threw off his shirt knowing it would be soaked in a second and headed out.

—————————————————————————-

Penny Benjamin wiped another hand across her brow as she turned to another box. She knew she shouldn't have chosen Tuesday to do inventory especially when the weather forecasts all called for the height of the heat wave to hit, yet here she was sweating in the back rooms of the Hard Deck anyway. She wished Maverick was around to help, though he was abnormally chaotic in a tight setting, at least the man could have helped with the lifting. Pete however, had taken Bradley for a 'getting re-acquainted trip' aka a 'get our crap together' trip up in Northern California. Penny was so happy to see the two trying to make things right and she knew it meant the world to Pete.

It did leave her alone though and with all the other pilots of the squadron gone on leave and Amelia visiting her father, Penny hated the quiet. Even doing normal chores around the bar made her ache for the loud and boisterous group she had grown to love. She hoped they were at least all trying to heal like Maverick and Rooster. She wasn't given all the details from the mission but she knew there were a lot of close calls and that for everyone to return was lucky, bordering on miraculous. Penny felt lucky herself every time she got to see Pete's smile again.

As the morning progressed and the heat got too much Penny opted to go over some sales numbers and to save the inventory for later. Grabbing her books, she headed for her usual table outside, the umbrella giving only the most miniscule relief from the heat.

She looked up as she watched a man run on the beach. He looked vaguely familiar but it wasn't until he was a bit closer that Penny realized it was Hangman. She had been surprised this morning when she saw the man arrive at the beach to run. She had assumed Hangman like all the others had gone away for leave. Clearly this wasn’t the case as the pilot putt his ear pods in and started his jog just as she first opened up to do inventory. Penny glanced at her watch and saw it was close to an hour later then since she had first arrived, and yet Hangman was still running. A hint of worry bubbled in her stomach but she learned that Top Gun pilots tended to be work-out fanatics, Hangman no exception.

As the man neared, Penny raised her hand, "Hangman!" she called but she wasn't surprised when the man kept running, no doubt lost in his music and training. She watched him for a minute, not immune to admit that the sight of the muscular shirtless blonde running along the beach wasn't the worst thing she's laid her eyes on. She shook her head at her silliness and turned back to her sales book figuring she would chastise the man for ignoring her later when he came in for some beers tonight.

Thirty minutes later the same figured appeared for the third time since she sat outside and Penny's brow furrowed. She knew Hangman liked to run but this was getting a bit excessive. She was familiar with his two mile loop, she had walked it with Amelia many times herself, but never this many times, nor in this kind of heat. When she included the time she was in the basement, she knew Jake was running much more than was normal or healthy on a day like today. It was nearing noon, the heat for the day was at its worse and she had heard an air quality alert on the news this morning. Jake ran with no water bottle, no shirt and if she had to guess no sunscreen. He just ran, and ran, and ran.

Perhaps it was the mother in her or perhaps it was just the concern for a pilot she had grown to care about over the years, but Penny refused to let Hangman run past again without at least taking a little respite. She stood herself up from the table and headed towards the sand, waving a bit to not startle the runner. As she got closer she noticed Hangman's gait was off, he seemed to be listing to the side with each step. Her concern mounting, Penny hurried forward a little faster, her heart dropping when she noticed Jake had started to stagger. "Hangman you alright?" the barmaid hollered, but instead of a verbal response Jake fell to one knee. "Jake!" Penny called as she watched the blonde collapse complete to the ground. He landed face first in the sand and the older woman felt herself fall next to him, a gentle hand reaching for his shoulder to help roll him over.

The man lying before her looked so far from the Hangman she knew that Penny gasped. Jake's normally lively green eyes were closed, his skin pale and his breath raspy. She gently nudged his face, trying to stir some kind of reaction and felt her heart relax a fraction when Jake gave a low groan and took a wobbling hand to brush hers away.

"Hey Hangman you with me?" she tapped his cheek again, worry increasing when she felt how warm his body was and yet she didn't notice much sweat on his body. Familiar with signs of overheating but in no way a doctor, Penny looked back towards the Hard Deck and hoped to see someone around that could help her. Unfortunately it seemed they were alone. She turned back to the blonde and saw his eyes were still closed though his body seemed to want to move. “Jake honey, can you hear me?” she asked again.

“P-Penny?” Jake murmured and finally those green eyes were open if barely past slits. He seemed to take a good look at the woman leaning over him before all the rest of the color in Hangman’s face disappeared and he rolled over to his side. As he retched out what Penny disgustingly assumed was his breakfast, she tried to run a soothing hand over his back but again she faltered at how hot his body temperature seemed to be. She reached to pull him back to face her carefully, allowing his back to land back in a clean portion of sand before trying to meet his eyes, “Jake, you with me? Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah, yeah” he didn’t sound convincing, “’ll good.”

“I think you’re overheated, I need to get you inside.”

“No-“ he shook his head weakly, his voice low and gravelly, “-m fine…. Just-… just overdid it a bit. ”

Penny moved to brush back his damp hair from where it was plastered with sand to his forehead, “You really over did it, okay” she tried to give a reassuring smile but her concern was too great and it became more of a grimace, “you need to get out of this sun and get some water in you. You think you can stand?”

It didn’t look like Jake would be moving any time soon but when Penny gave him a small pull the pilot managed to follow the momentum enough to get himself standing. It wasn’t pretty and Hangman looked ready to puke again at least three different times, but he held it in and allowed Penny to throw his arm around her shoulders. The two took a moment to gain their balance before they started with small and slow steps all the way back to the Hard Deck.

The walk was long and tedious. With each step that they got closer Jake’s movements got sloppier and the weight Penny had to support seemed to double. When she finally got him inside, Penny deposited Jake to the nearest booth and ran for a cold water bottle and some towels. She ran them under the coldest water she could get and started to place them over Jake’s chest, his neck and his forehead. The man didn’t even flinch. “Keep those there” Penny ordered as she moved to grab more water bottles, “and take small sips of water.”

Jake tried to follow orders but when he moved his hands to open the bottle, they were shaking so bad he dropped it. He went to get his body to pick it up but instead he slid down to the floor, his back against the table’s leg. Penny heard the commotion and came running, finding the pilot out of it and on the floor of her bar. “Jesus Jake, I think we need to get you to the hospital” she told him, “This is way worse than over heating-“

“No” Jake shook his head, his eyes unfocused, “’m –ok-“

“Honey” she got him standing again, “no you’re not. Hang on, take a seat for a minute and let me get my keys. I have to lock up the basement and then I will take you.” She led him back towards the booths but didn’t wait for him to sit, instead running to her bag and car keys.

Meanwhile the blonde had teetered after her, following towards the bar and knocking over a stool followed by another, "shit” he cursed, “’m sorry. Y-you can just call m’ an uber" Jake slurred softly, now leaning heavily against the bar, “’t’s no bother.”

"Absolutely not, and I said to sit Jake" she ordered, manhandling him towards the booths, "sit before you collapse again."

"'M -fine-"

"No you're really not." Her eyes must have shown her anger and concern because Jake seemed to melt into the cushion of the seats. Penny gave a nod and then ran to lock up her basement door and lock the inventory room. When she got back to the bar she noticed Jake’s head was leaning down on the table. “Hangman?” she questioned, but the man didn’t stir, “Jake?” When she still got no answer, she hurried over and took one of the water bottles, emptying it over the man’s head in a frantic shake, “Lieutenant Seresin!” she yelled and was luckily awarded with a dazed Jake shaking his wet hair out in confusion. “-enny?” he murmured sleepily, “did it rain?”

“Something like that” Penny lied, moving to grab the man out of the booth once more and get him towards the exit, “now come on honey, we’re going to the hospital.”

“-Don’’ feel so g-good.”

“I know, but we’re going to get you all fixed up” she promised silently praying that she could deliver on such a statement. If she was honest with herself Jake’s condition was really starting to frighten her. He collapsed three times already, he threw up on the beach and his body temperature was frightening high. She had tried cold compresses but they didn’t seem to make a difference. He was incoherent and confused; his body a shaky and unstable mess when he was normally frighteningly in control.

They got to Penny’s car quickly; fortunately she parked in the closet spot this morning. She helped lay Jake out along the back seat, sparing a second to take a hand to his forehead where she still felt the heat radiating off his skin. She pursed her lips but didn’t say anything, instead starting her car and cranking the A/C, hoping that it would help cool the pilot down.

For the first few minutes of the ride, Jake stayed silent and if it weren’t for Penny looking towards him in the rear view mirror every few seconds she would have thought he was unconscious or worse. Instead she watched as the man took shallow wheezy breaths, praying they get to the hospital quickly so he could get real help.

After a few more minutes of silence, Penny heard what sounded like a throat clearing in the back seat. Jake’s voice sounded fractured when he finally spoke up, "'why-you helpin' me?" he whispered from the back, 'm a bad person. A bad person with no one left.”

"No you're not honey" Penny immediately argued back, watching as Hangman’s eyes closed and his face scrunched up in pain, "you're a good person. I know that and so do the others."

"Asshole to them.... always a jerk..."

"I think they've started to see all that for what it is.” And she really believed that. The Hangman that strutted around the Hard Deck all these years was a show, meant for entertainment and for keeping people at arm’s length. Penny, no stranger at pushing people away herself, could recognize the signs easily though she knew it took the others a while to see. “You earned your teammates’ trust” she continued with what she hoped sounded reassuring. Jake didn’t seem to react to the words though, so Penny tried to push a bit more remembering what Maverick had told her the night he returned after the boat docked, about how Jake had saved his life, “you showed them the true Jake Seresin during the mission. They see it now.”

“They all left, ‘m alone again.”

“You’re not alone sweetheart”

“I should be, ‘ve killed people” Jake announced next and in the driver’s seat Penny stilled. It’s not that she doesn’t know this fact, she’s heard Hangman address it before but hearing Jake speak the words so matter of factly while he himself was so broken, exhausted and barely conscious, Penny’s heart clenched. “You were just doing your job, Jake, it’s different.”

“No” he shook his head minutely, “’t’s not.” He sniffed back what sounded like a sob, “can’t sleep, just see it again and again… All my mistakes... all the early graves… all my fault.”

“Nothing was your fault Jake, you saved lives that day. You saved Maverick and Rooster-“

“see them die every night…. ‘m pathetic-“

“No you’re not, you’re so brave honey” she felt a tear fall down her cheek as Jake let out another raspy sob, “so, so brave.”

“’ can’t even sleep anymore” Jake moaned, “just wanna sleep-“

“We can get you help for that” she urged, “there are people that can help-“

“No one can ‘elp me” his head lulled to the side, “I…can’t be fixed.”

There was so much Penny wished to say, so much she wished to correct but before she got the chance she was pulling into the emergency driveway entrance of the hospital and screeching her brakes to a halt behind an empty ambulance. “Please!” Penny hollered from her window at the two paramedics heading out the exit doors. Both stopped and looked her way, “please I need help” she urged to them.

The two women hurried forward, following Penny’s directions to the back seat, “he’s in rough shape, can you help me get him inside?”

“I’ll get the backboard and gurney” the younger of the medics announced, running back to her rig. When she returned the three women were able to lift Jake up and onto it, the two medical professionals beginning to wheel him inside, Penny hot on their heels.

“Ma’am you can’t leave your car here” the security guard tried but Penny ignored it and just continued to follow the gurney wheeling Hangman further into the hospital. Getting a ticket was the least of her worries, even getting towed. All she cared about was making sure the blonde pilot in that bed got the care he needed.

She followed them through into the emergency room where Jake was taken into a corner make-shift room with curtains closing it off. A nurse started asking Penny questions about Jake’s age, medical history, and if he had any allergies. She tried to answer to the best of her abilities but the truth was she didn’t really know. Jake Seresin had been coming to the bar for years but Penny couldn’t even tell the hospital if he was allergic to peanuts yet alone any medication he was on; she just never bothered to get to know him that well. She vowed if they got through this debacle, she would find out, resolved to pester Jake with so many questions he would have no choice but to tell her everything. She looked forward to it with a spark of hope.

Suddenly an older man came forward from the other side of the curtain, ripping it open with an intern on his heels, “What do we have?” he asked, not looking away from his patient on the bed.

“32 year old white male, fading in and out of consciousness, feels excessively warm to the touch-“

The doctor sighed and put on his glasses, his thinning hair reflecting the light as he knelt down on his work stool, and started to lightly examine Jake’s face and chest, “what’s his name?”

When no one else replied Penny realized the question was addressed to her. She swallowed her nerves, “Lieutenant Jake Seresin” she told him.

“Navy?”

“A Navy pilot, yes.”

“Why did you bring him here, shouldn’t he be on base?”

Penny shrugged, realizing she never even thought about taking Jake back to North Island, her mind just drove them to the first hospital she could think of, “this was closer” she explained instead.

The doctor hummed but continued his examination, “okay Lieutenant can you hear me?” when the blonde gave no response, the doctor turned to one of the nurses, “get me a temperature reading now” he ordered.

“Right away Doctor” and the nurse hurried to get the thermometer.

“What happened to him?” the ER doctor asked, shining a pen light as he used a hand to hold open Jake’s eye lid.

“He collapsed on the beach,” Penny supplied dutifully, still watching with what felt like a heavy weight on her chest, “he had been running and I think he might have over heated-“

“In this heat, I’m not surprised. Order a toxicology report, I don’t like his pupil dilation.”

Penny felt her temper flare, “He wasn’t drinking” she shot back, “he’s exhausted.”

“Let’s take the family out of the room-“ the doctor also added, rolling his eyes to his staff. As a nurse went to remove her, Penny listened as another rattled off Jake’s temperature. The minute his nurse was done saying 105 degrees, the ER doctor began sprouting commands, his voice a lot more concerned and worried than it were not two minutes ago. Penny knew 105 was dangerous, even deadly, but seeing doctors and nurses run in frantically made the woman more scared than she could ever remember being in her life. A curtain was pulled and her view was gone, and Penny felt her heart stutter as she wondered if that was to be the last time she would ever see Jake again. What if he died? What if she was too late getting him help, waited too long in the bar locking up a damn inventory closet when she should have been calling an ambulance and getting the poor man help. Her legs buckled for a moment but the nurse at her side kept a strong hand on her arm that kept her standing. “Here we go” the nurse told her steering her to the nurses’ station, “Fran” she called and one nurse was replaced with a different one as Penny was handed off once more.

“Okay” the nurse named Fran began, an iPad in her hand and glasses on her kind face, “let’s begin. Patient’s name was what again?”

“Lieutenant Jake Seresin.”

“Age?”

“32.”

“Occupation?”

“Naval Pilot.”

She typed faster, then opened her mouth to ask more but Penny beat her too it, "please" she begged, "is he going to be alright?"

Fran seemed to scrutinize her for a moment, his brown eyes boring into Penny over her glasses, “What is your relation to him again?" she questioned.

Penny stuttered for a moment, but then found her confidence, "I'm- I'm his aunt” she declared daring someone to disagree. The nurse didn’t argue, just typed something on her iPad, “and your name?”

“Penny Benjamin.”

Fran nodded and motioned towards the waiting room, “okay Ms. Benjamin, take a seat and I’ll send a doctor to talk once he finishes his evaluations.”

"But can’t I go back in?“

“You’ve done everything you could for the Lieutenant; now leave it to the doctors.” Fran placed a comforting hand to her arm and squeezed gently, “your nephew is in good hands.”

“What if I didn’t do enough, I tried to put cold compresses, and the water, but he could even grip it properly and I never made him drink-“

“Shhh” the kind woman placated her, “I’ll let the doctors know. I’m sure they will put him on fluids right away, you just sit here.”

“T-Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, I’ll be back later.”

Penny watched her go, falling into the hard waiting room chair and taking her head into her hands. She wanted to scream in frustration and worry, but she knew that wouldn’t help Jake. Instead she closed her eyes and focused on her breathing.

A hand on her arm a few minutes later made her jump. She looked up; expecting a doctor or nurse but finding herself staring at the same security guard she had run past before. The man looked sheepish, clearly feeling guilty for startling her. Penny pulled her fingers through her long brown hair to try to look even a semblance of normal but the security guard didn’t seem to judge. “Ma’am” he began, “I’m sorry to bug you but I really need you to move your car, we got ambulances that need to unload in those spaces and you’re blocking them.”

She looked back at him, her face reddening in mortification; she had completely forgotten about the car she had left parked in the emergency entrance. “I’m so sorry, Sir, I was so panicked before-“

He shook off her apology, “believe me I’ve seen it a million times before. Just move it now and we can both pretend it didn’t happen. I know you got more important things to worry about.” He offered a hand to help her standing and Penny took it gratefully, rising from the chair and heading to the automatic doors leading outside.

Penny moved her car like directed and then took back her seat in the waiting room. She noticed others sitting around, none paying her much attention, everyone lost in their own worlds of worry and fear.

This was why she hated hospitals, especially waiting rooms. It was a place where time simultaneously stood still and yet rushed by. People waited in agony over people in actually agony. Some people were here for last goodbyes while others welcomed new lives into the world. It was a place of overstimulation and over emotion and yet Penny couldn’t imagine herself being anywhere else at the moment. She would wait here as long as it took until she knew Jake would be okay.

About an hour later, a tall man approached the nurse’s station and Penny watched as he was directed to her. "Ms Benjamin?" the dark haired doctor called dressed in scrubs, "my name is Doctor Rask,” he held out a hand for Penny to shake, her grip lacking from her fear, “I’m your nephew's doctor” he told her soothingly.

"Hi" Penny breathed out, trying to control her nerves, "how's Jake?" she asked after no preamble.

If he thought she was rude the doctor didn't comment, instead he went right into Jake's diagnosis. "Lieutenant Seresin has a severe case of hyperthermia, more specifically heat stroke. His body temperature was 105 when you brought him in and that was with the cooling methods you tried to do prior. With a body temp that high our biggest concern is always going to be organ failure."

Penny clutched her hands into fists; the feeling of her nails in her palms the only thing keeping her together. She focused on the slight pain as she struggled to find her voice, "did he-... is his organs... are they okay?"

"He is extremely lucky” the doctor explained, “We don't see any evidence of organ failure but we will monitor him closely for the next few hours to be sure."

"That's- that's good news."

Dr. Rask spared her a comforting look, "it is, especially with how overheated he was but he's not out of the woods yet. Lieutenant Seresin was also severely dehydrated and extremely exhausted. His fine motor skills were so impaired upon admission that the ER doctor ordered a toxicology report because he was convinced Lieutenant Seresin must have been drunk. He wasn't of course but the Lieutenant admitted to being unable to supply the last time he had a full night's sleep."

Penny sighed, "he just got back from a serious mission Doctor Rask, it affective him deeply-"

"I understand," the doctor cut in gently, "and believe me I'm sympathetic but I suggest he find someone to talk to about this. He is beyond normal exhaustion levels which is extremely dangerous, not only in his profession but in all matters of his life."

"I agree. I plan on reaching out to his CO to discuss this as well."

The doctor softened, "we can also recommend people for him to talk to if he didn't want to go through the Navy. My father served and I know firsthand how people can be hesitant to show weakness to their superiors. It’s dangerous and they end up denying themselves the opportunity to get proper help."

"Thank you, I worry about that as well but I can promise you I will personally make sure Jake gets the help he needs, even if I have to drag him myself."

"He's lucky to have you" Doctor Rask shared with a smile.

Penny shook her head, her eyes falling to the floor, “I don't know about that” she admitted softly.

"I do” the doctor told her kindly, “You saved his life getting him in here so quickly."

"So he will be okay?"

"Well like I said before his organs look undamaged which is the best news for his case. He is still on cooling pads right now as we try to lower his temperature safely. We also have him on multiple IVs to increase his fluids and nutrients."

It certainly didn’t sound like he was okay but Penny took the doctor’s calm attitude as a good sign. Still she would only feel better once she could see Jake with her own eyes, "Is he awake?" she asked ready to run to his room if she found out he was.

Doctor Rask shook his head, "we gave him a small sedative which I would normally be against but Lieutenant Seresin was very restless in the room from the over exhaustion. I feared he would tax himself further. It should wear off in a few hours but he will be exceptionally groggy. Do to the severity of the heat stroke and the strain on his body; I want to keep him overnight for observations."

"Can I see him?"

"I would prefer not if I'm honest” he managed a sympathetic look when he noticed her face fall. “It's important for him to stay resting. In his heightened state and with the weak sedation, any disruption could cause him to wake before he's ready and that's the last thing he needs. Rest is his best medication at this point."

"I understand" and she did, no matter how much it broke her heart to think of Jake waking up alone in the hospital.

"If you leave your info with the nurse, I'll call you personally when he wakes, or any other member of his family."

He doesn't think he has any family, Penny's mind automatically corrected but she didn't bother saying it out loud. Besides, she learned many years ago that family went far beyond blood no matter what the medical world said. "Thank you Doctor, for everything."

"My pleasure and make sure Lieutenant Seresin thanks you as well. Like I said before, you saved your nephew's life today Ms. Benjamin, a few more minutes out there and we would be having a very different conversation."

She shuddered but gave her thanks anyway before turning back to her waiting room seat. She knew she had hours to kill before Jake would be up and she could see him so Penny took out her phone and scrolled to Pete’s name. She knew she needed to call the man, knew that the minute he heard something was wrong with one of his pilots he would want to be informed and be there. She wondered for a moment if perhaps she was overstepping until she remember Jake’s sad words in the car. This was a man who thought he was alone in the world and even worse, he thought he deserved to be alone in the world. He thought of himself as a killer for doing his job and pathetic for not being to handle his emotions and his PTSD properly. His hyperthermia would be treated but Penny knew that Jake Seresin had a much longer road to recovery once he was discharged from the hospital. Penny knew that she, Maverick, Rooster and the rest of the Daggers would be there for him every step of the way. They were a family now and that’s what family does.

Her mind made up, Penny hit the call button and brought the phone up to her ear, ready to call on the reinforcements.

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sarahsmi13s · 6 months

Text

Past Pursuits

whumptober day 19: left behind / "why wasn't i enough?"

pairing: platonic!robert 'bob' floyd x y/n 'star' rogers

characters: bob floyd, y/n rogers, bob's mom

warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, canon death, death, death of a parent, grief, self-doubt, questioning worth, feelings of abandonment, driving in the rain, crying, endgame!steve, marvel/top gun maverick crossover, please let me know if I missed any

word count: ~1.7k

a/n: this is for whumptober! please please please proceed with caution and use discretion, protect your peace

also if you are on the whump taglist but are not familiar with a character, you can skip it will not hurt my feelings!

this is a part of the lieutenant rogers series, but can be read alone

i am so so sorry i got this up late, please forgive me

whumptober 2023 masterlist

summary: after star's father stays in the past when he returns the stones, she's hurt and angry. where better to go than to her best friend?

One thing Bob wasn’t expecting to see on his parents front porch was his best friend soaked by the rain and her motorcycle under the carport.

But there you stood, soak to the bone as your eyes welled up with tears and you fell into his arms.

He wasn’t sure why you were there in Colorado, sobbing into his neck and clinging to him like you had when the Avengers’ civil war sent your dad on the run. And he knew another Blip just happened, bringing back the half it stole five years ago. He knew that only because his mom's sister in law, May, had called her and his mom called him in tears saying that Peter and May were brought back.

It could be any reason, he wasn’t certain though.

He just needed to know why you were crying, he was going to be there for you of course, but he wasn’t sure how to help because he didn’t know what was wrong.

So he pulled you in and got you a change of clothes from his sister and got you some hot coco before sitting on the couch with you under his arm.

“I’m sorry t-to just drop by like-like this… But N-Neil was de-deployed and I didn’t know where else to go…”

Bob kissed your head, “It’s okay. I’m always here for you.” “Thank you Bob. Is.. Is it okay if we talk about it all tomorrow? I need to sleep on something that’s not a motel bed…”

“So my Ma’s couch is better?” He said with a slight chuckle. “I know what’s been on this couch.” He shrugged, “Okay that’s fair.”

The next morning Bob came downstairs to the smell of coffee but no you in the kitchen, just his mom.

“Hey where’s Y/N?” Bob asked as he poured coffee in a tumbler cup.

His mom turned and gave him a sad smile, “She’s out on the porch with a coffee. She’s… um she’s not doin’ okay Bobby… Take her on a drive. Get her to talk.” He nodded, “I will Ma.”

Bob sighed a little and went outside to see you sitting on the step and looking out at the rain with your coffee cooling in your hands.

“Hey Star… you okay?”

You sniffle and shake your head, “No… no I’m not, Bobby…”

“Do you wanna go for a drive?” You sniffled and looked at your feet, “You hate driving in the rain… your glasses fog up.” “But you like it, and this isn’t about me. I want to help you feel better.”

He held out a hand to you, “So, let’s get you some fresher coffee, put you in some fresher clothes. And then blankets and a drive, you can sit in silence or vent that’s up to you, Star.”

You look up at him and he hates how red your eyes are, “Thank you…” You wiped your eyes and took his hand. “What are friends for?”

After getting changed into fresh out of the dryer clothes and then a small breakfast, Bob fixed you a tumbler of coffee grabbed fresh out of the dryer blanket before you both got in his truck, driving off to go down your favorite road.

You were silent for the most part, sniffling every once in a while as Bob drove the scenic route.

Rain pelted the windshield and the windows, the weather around you matching the weather inside you. You stayed curled up against the door with a blanket wrapped around you.

You knew you needed to talk about it, if you didn’t you would explode at the wrong time and say the wrong thing in a fit of anger… risking it being the last thing you ever said to someone.

That was the whole reason you came all the way down here after everything that happened in upstate New York. You went from upstate to Oceana to wish Omaha good luck on his deployment, to Colorado where you knew Bob was spending leave – having got back just before the second snap.

You needed someone, someone that would both understand and not understand your feelings. If Neil was still on dry land you would have brought him out here with you, to have the comfort of both your best friend and your boyfriend. But Bob had seen you in a similar state once before, he had an idea on how to handle it.

Bob pulled his truck into a scenic outlook spot on the road. He knew you liked the area. You came out here with him on your motorcycle a few times.

He parked the truck and just sat there, picking up his coffee and listening to the low music coming from the radio. He wasn’t going to ask questions, knowing that you needed to open up in your own time.

And you would, about 15 minutes into sitting there.

“They’re gone Bobby…”

Your voice was so soft and meek that Bob almost didn’t realize you had spoken.

He sat his tumbler down, “Who, Star? Who’s gone?”

“Tony… Nat… they’re gone,” you said, voice thick with emotion and tears. “They both sacrificed themselves to bring everyone back.”

“Oh Y/N… I’m so sorry.”

“It’s what heroes do though, right? Make the hard decisions so we don’t have to… sacrifice themselves for some dumb fucking rock. Snap their fingers to beat someone at their own game. Take the infinity stones back and leave your only fucking daughter behind in pursuit of your own fucking past because you can’t–”

You stopped yourself, realizing what you had begun to say.

“Y/N?” Bob said with an arched brow.

“That… I…” He turned your head to look at your face. “Hey, what happened? I know Tony and Nat aren’t the reason you’re here… you’re upset at someone other than them.”

You sniffled and wiped your eyes before unbuckling to turn to him fully.

“I just got a-a run down from Bruce, I don’t really understand it but… In order to bring everyone back they had to go through time to get the stones… but once they were done with them, they had to take them back to ‘preserve the timeline’ or whatever.”

You sniffled again and ran a hand through your hair, “Dad… he-he volunteered to take the stones back after Tony’s and Nat’s funerals. He told me and Buck he was giving the shield to Sam and that’s not what I’m upset about…”

Rubbing your face, you groaned, “But when he went back… he stayed in the past. With Peggy. So one minute I was looking at the dad I knew and the next I saw a man I barely recognized… He was older… had a wedding band, had a family with her…”

You sobbed and buried your face in your blanket.

“He left me… He stayed with her and he had a family… Did-Did he even remember me? Did-did he even care that he lived a whole life without me…”

“Star…” Bob said gently, trying to get you to look at him.

“Was I not enough for him? Was I so disappointing that he wanted to start over in a time I didn’t exist?”

Bob shook his head and scooted closer to you, “No, Y/N, that’s not the case at all. He loves you.”

“Then why couldn’t he just retire!? And not start over…” You look up at him, “What did I do wrong?”

“Nothing, you did nothing wrong,” Bob tried to assure you, reaching up to wipe your tears and frowning when you turned away. “Then why did he leave me behind?”

Bob shook his head, “Y/N…”

You shook your head, before burying it back in your blanket. Your sobs were muffled by the fabric as you put your hands over your head, shielding yourself from your best friend – trying to shield yourself from the universe.

You were angry with him before and now you were just… hurt.

What did the past have that you didn’t? Familiarity? Predictability? Peggy?

Was that all this was? Chasing an 80 year old kiss? Leaving his daughter and two best friends for someone that thinks he’s dead?

But he was happy with her right? He went back and got to live with her, the love of his life. He got to be happy.

Except… could he not have been happy with you? With his best friends? With the people he left behind?

Bob gently put his hand on your leg, “Star, he loves you, I know he does. He’s so proud of you. He loves being your dad.”

“Then why did he stay… Why couldn’t he come back? I barely got a chance to have him as a dad… and then he started a whole new family…”

“Have you talked to him about this? Did you tell him about how him staying in the past would make you feel?”

“I… He looked so happy thinking about it… and at the time I thought about how if it was me and Oma, I would spend a life with him in a heartbeat.” You wiped your eyes with shaking hands, “But when I saw him something inside me just got so… angry and-and-and so hurt.”

You looked at him and Bob’s heart broke at the desperation in your eyes. “Why am I so angry? Why am I so angry that he lived a life? Why am I so angry that he got to be with the love of his life? Just… why?”

Bob shook his head, “I’m sorry… I-I don’t know..” You sniffled and threaded your hands in your hair. “Hey, c’mere. C’mere,” he gently pulled your hands out of your hair and into his lap as you wrapped your arms around him. “I got you, I got you…”

You cried into his neck as he held you close, clinging to his shirt as he wrapped you in the blanket.

He rested his head against yours. He wished he knew how to help you feel better, but this wasn’t something fixed with a few words. He tried that and it just made you more upset. This was something that you just needed to vent about and then work out later. You needed him to just listen and then hold you, that’s what he could do right now for you.

So that’s what he did, he held you close in the cab of his truck as the rain got heavier and your sobs died down to weak cries before you fell asleep in his arms.

taglist: @bradleybeachbabe @mayhemmanaged @kmc1989 @lovinglyeternal @horseshoegirl @cassiemitchell @fanboyswhore9 @nightowlalltheway @86laura11 @els-marvelvsp @valmare @startrekfangirl2233

lt. rogers tags <33: @milesdickpic @roosterscockpit @luckyladycreator2 @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @malindacath @twsssmlmaa @cassiemitchell @startrekfangirl2233 @mayhemmanaged @nikkipea @that-one-random-writer

hi, if you're seeing this and are currently not on the taglist and would like to be please fill out the taglist form -> whumptober taglist

i can not stress this enough, but whumptober can have some very serious and heavy topics and i want to make sure i am doing my part as an author to prepare my readers for what they are about to experience and that includes not only warnings above but my taglists as well

so if you want to be added check out the masterlist and read that carefully and fill out the form -> whumptober 2023

#vinny's whumptober #vinny's rainy day records #ailesswhumptober2023 #whumptober 2023 #whumptober #whumptober day 19 #marvel/top gun maverick #lieutenant rogers #avengers endgame #steve rogers #rogers #bestie bobert #platonic!bob floyd x reader #crossover #whump #angst #sarahsmi13s

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joonsdiary · 4 years

Text

jamais vu (m)

↳ noun | the illusion that the familiar is being encountered for the first time.

(are you the remedy to my broken heart?)

pairing: jungkook | reader | taehyung genre: slice of life au, acquaintances to friends (to lovers?) au // heaps of angst, a tiny bit of smut, a sprinkle of fluff word count: 13,4k

— warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, hints of gaslighting, mild descriptions of a panic attack, themes of infidelity, sexual intercourse (protected penetrative sex, implied female masturbation)

— note: mildly inspired by the films lost in translation and ocean waves, as well as jamais vu by bts (hence the title). some concepts were derived from my wip list, so in a way this was my remedy for the writer’s block i was having while writing ‘worth fighting for’. i hope in one way or another it can be your remedy, too. (p.s. despite being inspired by lost in translation, i haven’t actually seen the film so this won’t be exactly like that adkjhsd)

— playlist: carry me home - jorja smith ft. maverick sabre / sweet insomnia - gallant ft. 6lack / drew barrymore - sza / run - joji / truth is - sabrina claudio / bath - offonoff / ghostin - ariana grande / ... etc!

There’s something thrilling about sitting in the backseat of a car past midnight, windows rolled down as the driver chases the destination planted on her navigation device. You welcome the cool breeze that tangles your hair into an uncomfortable mess, as it only helps propel your heart rate faster. Inhaling slowly allows you to savour the musky scent of the earth shortly after being bathed with rainwater; if this is what freedom tastes like, you wish to savour as much of it as you could.

Eventually, the exhilaration wears down as the city lights blur into a cacophony of colours. It’s incoherent and indiscernible, yet it possesses the ability to lull you into a dream-like state. You had the utmost privilege of plugging your phone into the aux cord, therefore the familiar voice of your recently played songstress croons softly against the speaker, filling the cold, void spaces in between. Your heavy eyelids fall into an accustomed pattern, gradually flickering until it closes shut.

Sleep beckons; fatigue welcomes you into the abyss, and you embrace it with open arms.

Well, almost.

“Can you roll the windows up? It’s freezing,” he mumbles as he sinks further down the leather chair. You jolt awake at his sudden announcement, but he doesn’t apologize for disturbing your calmness.

“Hm? Yeah, of course,” your fingers scramble to find the right button to press until the tempered glass lifts, shielding you away from the busy city. You want to argue that it’s not even that cold, but he scoots closer towards you, tugging on your left arm before burying his head in the crook of your neck.

A wistful sigh escapes your lips and you turn to place a quick kiss on his crown. You immediately understand the exhaustion that plagues you both, brought about by the time difference between the country you came from and the one you’re currently visiting. You glance out the window once more as your thumb plays with the golden band on your ring finger.

Seoul is beautiful. The city itself is alive, evident by the way the summer stars in the night sky are dimmed by the light that emits from the numerous buildings and towers that create Seoul’s skyline. Looking at it from above while on a plane is similar to peeking at a telescope to view a galaxy far away, dotted by billions of brilliant stars. But despite the breathtaking aerial view, nothing feels more intimate than weaving through its streets.

Although you can tell its old roads are recently refurbished, unsurprisingly, which buries any inkling of familiarity beneath the cold cement. Despite you knowing the place, there’s still something different about it, like buying a new laptop to replace the old one. The specs are guaranteed to be exactly like its predecessor, but the fact that it comes in a sleek box, still unspoiled and untouched, fascinates you all the same. It begs to be used until you’re so attached to it that you refuse to part ways even just for a singular moment. That’s what defines Seoul for you.

But the city can wait. There will be plenty of opportunities to explore and rekindle your love affair with the town you once called your home. For now, your reason for being lays cradled within your arms, encapsulated within the bubble you desperately wish would stay intact, unmarred by the destructive forces of reality.

Although those illusions of fantasy can only take you so far. The fragility of your relationship is beginning to materialize into a spectre, its gaunt face haunting you in every corner you look. There’s no escaping the truth as it will, without a fail, catch you in one form or the other.

“What are you thinking about?” he hums lazily, soft breath tickling the nape of your neck.

“Just excited to finally be back after so long.”

“That’s right, you moved away long before I did.”

“Mhm.”

The discussion flickers out of existence, whose life is shorter than that of a fire in measly matchstick. You aren’t much of a conversationalist, and you appreciate that neither is he. Is that the defining trait that convinced you to marry the man sitting next to you three years ago? Perhaps. You like that he gives you the time and space to bask in your thoughts when you need it, even if there are moments where you’d like nothing more than to connect with him like you used to.

“I miss you,” slips out before you’re able to hold your tongue back. But you don’t scramble to reclaim the words like you usually do, followed by an apologetic I didn’t mean it like that. You let the phrase simmer, hoping it will soak him to the bones enough that it becomes his wake up call.

But, “I’m right here,” is all he says.

The him-of-past would have cradled your face in his big hands, turned you so that you’re face to face before he makes a silly face that will make you laugh. He’ll say you’re being silly for even thinking of such thoughts when he’s always been by your side, and forever will be. It will follow one chaste kiss, then a second, and before you could blink his limbs will tangle with yours, hearts beating fast but in unison, nonetheless.

“I know,” you murmur.

Perhaps he believes it’s enough that he’s there beside you, physically. Perhaps it’s wise to presume the same. It’s only wishful thinking to expect otherwise, after all.

Jungkook believes he’s a creature of habit. Or, he used to be, at least.

There’s absolutely nothing wrong with falling into a certain pattern in life, especially at his age; God knows he needs a stable rock to hold on to so he doesn’t get carried away by the raging currents of the river.

But it had only been once upon a time where he enjoyed such endeavours; waking up, coming down to work, going back up to bathe, before finally retiring to bed. Yes, he’ll find pockets of time to eat meals, of course. Days come when he has the freedom to choose to go to the gym, instead, so his life isn’t completely mundane. There’s a nuance to such life, and he always aspires to have the propensity and the undeterred tenacity to stick to such a strict regimen.

However, days began to bleed into each other with the same shade of grey, indiscernible and incomprehensible. It’s not necessarily a lousy experience because he never felt starved or threatened out of his home. Life for him is like cruising down the endless highway, foot off the gas but going at one hundred kilometres per hour all the same. The figures he passes by become obscured by the speed he’s going at, but at the very least he’s still heading somewhere.

It’s only recently he’s fully realized the futility of his mundane schedule. She’d told him so.

“Don’t you want to break away from all of that? From your parents’ expectations of you?” her voice comes softly through the phone. His moments together with her are often brief and hurried, their conversations cut short by external forces acting upon them both. It’s dinnertime for him, but she has to drop the call in order to catch the early bus for work. Such a prick, time and distance can be.

(Perhaps, he now looks back and thinks to himself, they’re merely trying to find more reason to converse less with each other. Since when did it start, the feeling of obligation?)

“Are you suggesting that I—”

She says yes without letting him finish his sentence.

So he finds vigour in his life once more as he throws himself into his work, constantly propelled forwards by the need to meet an end goal: Save up enough to be able to move halfway across the world. To see her. To be with her.

But the respite is brief, however.

The more money is stored in his bank account, the less he thinks of the idea as brilliant. Is he ready to uproot his life from the only home he knows to move in with somebody he has only met through the screen of his phone?

Looking at the bigger picture, nothing else has changed in his life. He needs a true break; a real step back from a routine that is numerous years in the making.

Having sex with a stranger in a random motel seems like a good way to go about it, he thinks.

Several hours prior, his friends asked him to go out drinking with them. Jungkook, who rarely makes time for such occurrences, naturally agrees, surprising the very same acquaintances that invited him. At that point he believes they’re only asking to be polite, not having the courage to kick him out of an old group chat formed during their college days. They never expected him to say yes then, and they didn’t until now.

Countless bottles of beer and a few shots of liquor later, he’s fumbling with the zipper of his tight jeans. The woman, whose name he didn’t have the courtesy of asking, giggles as she rises from the bed to approach him.

Mistake number one.

“Do you need help, love?”

He fumbles through his words, unable to form a coherent thought. It’s not that he’s completely inexperienced — although the woman probably thinks he is by the way he acts — it’s just that, admittedly, it’s been a good while since he’d had sex with anybody. Add the nervousness to his inebriated state, and he’s got himself in quite the dilemma.

Mistake number two.

“I’m guessing you like them tight,” the woman points out.

“Huh?” his head whips towards the woman, eyes wide and mouth agape, like a deer caught in headlights.

“Your jeans, I mean.”

The woman chuckles once again as he attempts to peel the fabric off his skin. “Wasn’t really planning on this, that’s why.”

Mistake number three.

“But you have this,” an inconspicuous packet is pulled from his back pocket. Jungkook merely grins sheepishly in response. The woman kneels as she grips his underwear but he grabs her hand and pulls her up instead, crashing her body into his. He recalls her murmuring something about getting straight to the point, but he’s unsure if the woman meant it as a complaint or a compliment. He didn’t bother asking to elaborate, because none of this is even supposed to happen.

Mistake number four.

Guilt bubbles from within his chest, gnawing at every nook and cranny of his consciousness.

Mistake number five.

He’d have to tell her sooner rather than later. It would be fucking shitty of him not to. But before he has the time to steer clear of trouble and save himself from potentially ruining the only good thing he has going in his life, the woman’s lips are on him. There’s no going back now, he assumes.

Mistake number six, seven, eight.

Nine: His kiss feels famished as he drinks in each quiet moan that comes out of the woman’s lips. Every second feels reinvigorating like he’s sitting in front of the roller coaster as the ride pauses before the first drop. When the wheels turn and roll against the metal railroad track, he stumbles back and falls into the bed. He’s here for the thrill, which would bring the total up to ten so far.

Eleven is when he watches the woman slip the condom with ease, sheathing him. His presumed experience she possesses excites him further; that is number twelve.

He loses count when she traps him between her knees as she licks two of her fingers at once, before hiking up her skirt.

Jungkook wants to laugh at his lack of perceptiveness. Tactless when it comes to asking for the woman’s name; even more inadequate and impolite not to think about prepping her.

“What’s so funny?” she asks, head tilting to the side as wisps of her hair fall across her face as she grinds herself against him. He bites back a moan as he looks away from her. It probably would be best not to tell her. He then catches his reflection in the mirror, and despite the dimmed lights he could outline the expression he’s making; a reflection of someone unrecognizable.

“There’s a mirror,” he pauses as she gets a hold of him, her warmth enveloping him as she slowly sinks onto him. His hips jerk seemingly involuntarily in response, and she groans, tossing her head backwards. He forgets to speak altogether. The woman does the same, opting to mumble profanity, instead.

Jungkook wishes to hide the shame and guilt, the wrongfulness, the missed opportunities to say no. Is his need to feel something other than the heaviness of his heart worth all the pain he’s about to put not only himself but the person he wishes to spend the rest of his life with?

And so he buries himself deeper before denial could even stake a claim in the vast expanse of his thoughts. If to forget is to lose himself in the pleasure of someone else’s company, then he’ll desperately seek the ecstasy he’s craved for so long until he’ll see stars beneath the darkness of his eyelids.

His breathing is no longer erratic when he comes into consciousness.

“That was good,” she breathes out softly, and he turns in time to watch her brown eyes disappear from view.

“I have to go.”

He gets up from the bed and begins to move on autopilot, picking up his discarded clothes one by one. The woman immediately sits up and asks with an evident frown on her face, “Already? Didn’t you have fun?”

The corners of his lips are pulled upwards into a grin. “It’s for work.”

“At this hour? It’s almost one.”

“Midnight shift.”

When he’s dressed, he hesitates at the foot of the bed, shifting weight from one leg to the other. He’s never been the best with words, and his unexpectedly expected tryst with a stranger leaves him at a loss for what to say. It doesn’t help that the woman refuses to meet gaze with him.

I wouldn’t want to look at me either, he thinks bitterly to himself.

“Thank you for your time. I hope to see you around,” his half-truth is enough to pluck a rueful smile from her lips.

The bus ride back home is the longest one Jungkook thinks he’s taken ever since he moved to Seoul.

You watch as Taehyung lazily drags his feet behind him each step he takes towards the bed and breakfast place you decided to rent. The cicadas chatter loudly as if to cheer him on. A few more steps, they urge.

“Come on, Taehyung,” you groan from above the stairs, already reaching the top long before he does. “I’m about to pass out, too. But can we do it once we get to the bed?”

“I’m literally, like, dead,” you can’t help the roll of your eyes at his dramatic statement. But you hold your tongue back at any other snide comments that might offend him further. Patience is the key with him, always. Complaining to him, as you did earlier, will only force him to act against your wishes.

He reaches the top with a huff and a hand on his bent knees, handing you the duffel bag that’s filled to the brim with your clothes and his.

“That wasn’t so bad, right?” is your attempt at making the situation lighthearted and less serious than it needs to be.

“Still should have booked a hotel, instead,” his nose scrunches in obvious dismay.

“For the last time, I thought—”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” gone is the Taehyung of previous, whose tiredness begins with softness around his personality. It’s not unusual for him to get cranky after being jet-lagged. But hey, guess what, so are you!

You ignore him for fear of escalation as you make your way inside. A quiet chime of the bell signals your arrival, and your gaze meets a familiar set of doe eyes; someone you knew once upon a time in a place you can pinpoint exactly. His expression mirrors that of your surprised one as he tries to figure you out. It wouldn’t surprise you if he doesn’t recognize you as you did him.

It’s Taehyung who breaks your state of bewitchment when his shoulder bumps into your arms as he jogs towards the receiving desk.

“Hey, stranger! How long has it been?” Taehyung exclaims a little too loudly, his state of disarray seemingly vanishing in a flash. With the roll of your luggage as a guide, you follow after him, standing nimbly behind the shadow of his confidence.

“Since we graduated high school? Probably ten years,” he says humorously.

“That long, huh? Damn.”

They fall into a small talk which is somewhat out of sync, which is understandable considering the amount of time they haven't been in contact with each other. No matter how close they had been during their teenage years, some words are hard to come by more than others.

He suddenly calls your name out in a greeting, and you peak over Taehyung’s shoulder with a small wave of your hand. “Hey, Jungkook.”

His smile is gentle, and your mood shifts entirely.

“Are you back here on a trip?”

It’s clear the question was directed to you, but Taehyung absolves you the courtesy of answering. “Actually, it’s a work-related thing. She wanted to tag along.”

“That’s one way of putting it,” you say with a strained chuckle, and Jungkook glances between you and Taehyung.

“Ah, I see. In any case, I’ll get out of your hair,” he slides a pair of keys in your direction. “It’s well past midnight, so I’m sure you guys are tired from your flight.”

Taehyung snatches it up, and it falls into the pocket of his slacks with a soft jingle. He thanks him with enthusiasm before turning towards the direction of the elevator.

“Hope I see you around. Have good night.”

Something about your greeting has Jungkook’s eyebrows creasing in discomfort for a split second before he gives you a small nod. “I’ll be here if you need anything else.”

But he isn’t there to greet patrons by the next morning when you go down for your complimentary breakfast. Taehyung did not join you, opting for an extended hour of sleep. You didn’t mind, but you couldn’t lay aimless in bed for too long; you’ve always been a morning person, after all.

So you sit by your lonesome in the vast dining area, surrounded by an old couple in one corner and a young family of four in the other. The two children fight for the last remaining pancake while the parents share a hushed discussion. You glance down at your warm abalone porridge.

There was a time when you imagined such a life with Taehyung—a family you can call your own. Of course, it’s by no means too late for you; at the tender age of twenty-eight, you know that life still has a lot to offer. But approaching three years into your marriage, Taehyung does not present any hints of wanting such a future with you. Sure, the topic has been brought about occasionally, but never serious enough to be considered anything but a passing daydream.

“I hate to break it to you, but that soup isn’t going to give you the answers to your most pressing question, even if you stare at it like that.”

You look up to see Jungkook wearing an amused expression, carrying a plastic bag on his right hand. He follows your trail of gaze and lifts the item into view.

“I might have raided the kitchen before my shift is over. Don’t tell a single soul,” his gaze holds differently, but the smile he wears is the same one from his youth.

“Cross my heart,” you humour him, and his grin grows wider. “Have a safe trip home.”

His nose wrinkles in contemplation. “If you mean be careful going up the stairs to my room, then sure, I will.”

Your brows lift in confusion, “You rent here?”

“You could say that. I own this place,” the chair scrapes against the tiled floors as he welcomes himself into your bubble. “Well, sort of. My parents own this, but my older brother and I manage it.”

“You should have said so earlier!” you chuckle, placing your chin on your palm as you turn to face him. “I would have asked for a discount.”

“Ouch, this is exactly why I didn’t do that in the first place. It’s opportunists like you that I’m terrified of.”

“Okay, Richie Rich, I knew you were always a selfish prick even then.”

“Hah!” he exclaims, leaning closer. “I’m well aware of my reputation back then, and none of them was ‘selfish’. In fact, there was always a lot of me to go around.”

“I highly doubt that, somehow.”

“You wouldn’t know,” he says in a casual tone while crossing his arms in front of his chest. He gives you a knowing look. “You were always with Taehyung.”

“I was, wasn’t I?” you mumble against your palm, your voice growing quiet. Your ring suddenly feels heavy on your finger.

“Mhm, that’s why I wasn’t surprised when I heard you two got married a few years back. In another country, no less. Congratulations, by the way,” his tone softens, mirroring your sudden predisposition for a hushed conversation.

“Thank you,” you give him a genuine smile. “Married life is…”

“Different?” he offers, and you nod wordlessly. You would’ve chosen a different word for it, but you’re glad he finished the sentence for you. “All my other friends who’re in the same situation say so.”

“And you?”

He wears the same troubled expression from hours ago, but only for a brief moment. He mimics your posture as his face lights up with the biggest smile you’ve seen him wear. You know that expression; there was a point in time where you’d wear the same elated look when someone asks you about Taehyung.

“Long-distance. But we’ve been together for a couple of years,” he hesitates briefly, before continuing. “I’m leaving in less than two weeks to move in with her.”

“Where to?”

He reveals the name in a hushed tone, almost as if it’s meant to stay a secret between the two of you.

Your eyes widen with bewilderment, and he grins sheepishly. “Wow, that’s—”

“Halfway across the world? I know.”

It’s only when there’s a pause that you realize what your intended purpose is. So you dig a spoonful of the soup and chase the heat away with a quick blow before taking a quick bite.

“You’re really here just to tag along with Taehyung?”

You look at him in surprise, not expecting the subject to be brought out once again. “Not really. We um…”

You hesitate, unsure whether to share your thoughts or not. But Jungkook is neither a friend nor a stranger and is possibly the perfect candidate. There’s nothing that binds you to him and in a few weeks, you’d be back to being strangers. Perhaps he wouldn’t even remember your story.

“We didn’t really have an official honeymoon after our marriage, and this was supposed to be it,” you chuckle, trying to play the situation off nonchalantly. “He sort of double-booked because he couldn’t turn down this gig.”

“That seems shitty, to be honest.”

You’re taken aback by the ruggedness of his tone, and you immediately jump to defend Taehyung. “It’s fine, honestly. It’s been a while since I’ve been back home.”

“Yeah, you missed out on our high school reunion just by a month,” his aura is lighthearted once more, and you’re glad for it.

“You went?”

“Nah, there was nothing good to reminisce about high school.”

You turn to him with your mouth agape. “This is coming from the captain of the football team, Jeon Jungkook?”

“Ah, come on, stop with the teasing,” he says as he rolls his shoulder back, before clearing his throat. “It just so happened that I was good at kicking. And running. And scoring goals.”

Undeterred by his boasting, you give him a sly smirk. “I’m sure you revelled in the attention. There was enough of you to get around, you said?”

“Now you get it.”

You giggle and he laughs along with you. The interaction gives you a certain heaviness within your chest but at the same time, you feel lightheaded, almost as if you’re about to soar towards the heavens.

“I should go catch some sleep,” he says once your euphoria dies down. “I’ve had a long evening.”

“I’ll let you get to it, then,” you say almost wistfully. He mumbles a quiet later! and you allow your gaze to follow his movement.

“Don’t get lost on your way.”

He looks back and motions a mock salute. “I’ll come knocking on your door if I need help with directions.”

However, three days go by without seeing Jungkook; not in his usual spot at the entrance of the building, and nowhere near the kitchen or the lounge area. Although you weren’t looking for him by any means because Taehyung constantly kept you busy, dragging you from place to place to take cityscape photos for his client. Despite the constant travelling, it’s hard to enjoy the scenery when the affair appears to be completely one-sided.

There’s no mistaking the fact you’re extremely proud and gratified that Taehyung pours his heart and soul into each project he throws himself at. But would it hurt that much for him to point his lenses towards your direction even just once? Surely, your whole trip will not consist of you constantly waiting on him.

He must’ve noticed your affliction because suddenly the weight of his stare begins to feel heavier each quiet second that passes.

“Bored yet?” he asks, left hand on the wheel and the other placed on the knob to change the car’s gear. Your eyes flit back to him and his right palm opens for you to take. With your fingers interlocked, he places a soft kiss on your knuckles.

It’s difficult to harbour resentment towards him when he makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter with merely the tiniest of gestures.

“With you? Never.”

He chuckles, and you feel the rumbling of his chest as he presses the back of your hand against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat doesn’t match your erratic, nervous one.

“Hm, you should have said yes. I was going to save you of having to come with me later,” his tone is playful, and a small smile adorns his flushed lips.

“What’s happening later?” you shift in the passenger seat to face him.

“The dinner with Min, my client. I told you, remember?”

You carefully sift through your mind regarding your recent conversations with him. You recall them being short and clipped, sure, but none told you of a certain meeting with somebody else. So, you tell him in earnest, “No.”

“I’m sure you’re just forgetting,” his grip on you loosens, and you reclaim your hand before it falls on his lap.

No, you’re one-hundred-percent certain you would remember something as important as that. Yet you don’t tell him so and instead, you yield with a wordless nod.

“You mean to tell me you’re going to miss out on having takeout dinner with me?” you ask, attempting to humour him, but your tone mistakenly comes out tasting bitter on your tongue. The silence that ensues sears into your brain like the afternoon Seoul sun, prickly and scorching hot to the touch.

“You can come with, if that’s what you want. I’ll tell you in advance that it’s going to be boring, though, since we’re going to talk about work.”

Somewhere along the line, you presume Taehyung has developed the proclivity towards telling pretence with a straight face. It catches you off guard when you join him for the much-anticipated dinner that he apparently told you about. It’s not the fact that “Min” turns out to be a woman — you have no qualms about that. Taehyung is somebody who could make acquaintances with somebody while waiting in line for their prescription in a pharmacy. Rather, it’s the way he prepped you for the oncoming conversation or your lack of inclusion in any of them, for that matter.

Introductions aside, you found her to be amicable and friendly. But afterwards, you fell behind two steps as they divulged into a topic other than work. Despite the premise that the chat would be boring, Taehyung is deeply engrossed in whichever story she decided to share. You didn’t have quite the energy to match theirs, so instead of playing catch up, you decided to stop walking altogether. You watch as their figures grow smaller on the horizon, not even bothering to look back and ask if you’d like to join them.

She laughs at something Taehyung says and automatically reaches to grab his arm as she giggles along with him. When she makes eye contact with you, instinct tells you to force a smile. And you did, uncaring if she perceives your gesture to be nothing but utter bullshit.

You busy yourself with studying the restaurant instead as you pensively wait for food to be served. The dim lights of the room create a warm ambience — romantic, almost.

The gears in your brain stop turning as they click into place. Your pulse gums with vigour as you feel the sweat seeping through the pores of your palms. Suddenly, the vast expanse of the dining hall feels suffocating; there’s no room for you. To breathe, to feel, to be.

“I’ve got to go.”

You suddenly feel lightheaded as you begin seeing multiples of dark spots, clouding your vision. The floor caving beneath you, and you struggle to keep afloat.

“What?” Taehyung looks at you with wide eyes but makes no move to hold you back from gathering your things.

“I forgot I was supposed to meet a friend today,” you say with self-assurance, miming the same expression he wore when he lied: I told you, remember?

Taehyung stands when you move away from the table and hope blooms dangerously in your chest; your wish for him to hold you back and stop you from leaving begins to permeate.

(Though in hindsight, you should have known better.)

“I’ll call a cab for you.”

Static fills the void, and for the first time in his life, Jungkook fears the silence rather than basking in it. He’s unsure when his words began to fail him; is it because he’s nervous he’ll slip up and say the wrong thing? Truly, at this point, being seen as the bad guy should be the least of his concerns.

Because as far as any human with a functioning brain thinks, he’s already fucked up in more ways than one. There’s no returning from the level of hell he’s put himself in.

“Are you still there?”

Her voice is patient, but he can tell she’s apprehensive.

“Uh, yes—just, thinking.”

There’s a brief pause before an accusatory, “Look, if you’re having second thoughts then maybe it’s too early.”

He immediately leaps from the couch of the empty lounge area. It’s a little past eleven at night, so everyone is either already in their rooms or out enjoying the city, which gives Jungkook a leg room for privacy.

“What? No, that’s not it!”

Two years isn’t too damn early. He feels like he’s been waiting a lifetime; tired of the time difference, tired of the distance, tired of being deprived of touch. Tired of the same old city, with the same predictable people. Everything around him is starting to feel foreign; the steps that lead to the bed and breakfast lodging, the corner street that sells the best tteokbokki he’s ever tasted in his life, the crosswalk that has malfunctioning lights which should be a public safety hazard but at this point he thinks will never be fixed. It’s all mundane, cycling through the same wheel of routine.

He no longer wants to feel apathetic when he faces his future while he houses resentment on his present self milling around aimlessly. She’s his only ticket to escape, so he better stop fucking around and tell her the truth.

But where to begin?

“Listen, I—”

“Whatever it is, can you please just say it? I’m leaving for work soon.”

He takes two steps back, for fear of retribution. Is he ready to ruin the entirety of her day?

“Never mind. I’ll talk to you later. Have a great day at work.”

She heaves a sigh, and preemptively ends the call.

“I suppose I deserve that,” he mumbles as he stares at his phone with her name printed in big letters across the screen. He contemplates pressing the call button and finally telling her everything—her work be damned. He knows that he owes her the truth at the very least.

But you come barrelling down the door, barefoot as you clutch your heels safely between your armpit. You’re dressed formally, yet casual enough for a nice dinner outside plenty of Seoul’s restaurants. But the slight stutter in your step and your somewhat dishevelled hair tells Jungkook all he needs to know. He doesn’t have to hazard a guess.

“Jungkook!” you raise your arms as you exclaim, and the wooden floor welcomes your shoes with a loud thud. “It’s been so long. What are you doing here?”

He laughs, not because of your deeply inebriated state, but because of your inquiry. What the hell am I doing here? He’s been asking himself that very same question without an answer in sight for a while now.

Though he doesn’t have time to answer because you almost knock him over when you skid over to wrap your arms around his neck. His senses are overwhelmed with the pungent smell of liquor, mixed with a subtle hint of rose water.

“I miss you.”

Jungkook is perplexed by your brutal honesty, to say the least. Though he knows to excuse any action while somebody is foolishly drunk, so long as they are not harming anybody or themselves. You grow quiet, and Jungkook is about to ask where you’ve been when he feels dampness on the front of his button-up shirt. He looks down and sees you visibly shaking, before grabbing at his sleeves seemingly for physical support.

It’s when you ask, with conviction, “Why did you hold me back?” that he realizes you aren’t referring to him. So, he wordlessly wraps his arms around you as he pats your back reassuringly. He doesn’t mind that you began sobbing louder, not even when a guest comes through the door and gives him a perplexed expression. He simply nods in their direction as a form of acknowledgement before giving a tight-lipped smile.

When minutes pass and Taehyung doesn’t arrive, he puts two and two together and concludes that he had to be the reason. His heart squeezes painfully as you attempt to swallow a sob which ends up sounding more agonizing and hollowed, carrying with them the weight of all the sorrow you’ve seemingly piled up.

When your cries are reduced to soft hiccups, you pull away from him with a quiet apology. Jungkook shakes his head as he places his palms delicately against your face before wiping the remnants of your sorrow away from your cheeks.

“Better?”

“No,” you sniffle. “I feel like shit.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I wanna go out again. Will you come with me?” you look up at him, bleary eyes pleading. Jungkook dips his chin as he guides you to sit on the leather couch, which you thankfully follow.

“At this rate, you’re going to pass out before we step foot outside the building.” With a sigh, he crouches down to reach eye level with you. “Do you need to puke?”

“I already did that after getting off the cab earlier, I think.”

“Okay then, wait here.”

You nod wordlessly and he goes to pick up your discarded shoes before placing it near your naked feet. He unlocks his phone as he makes his way to the dining hall, dialling a familiar number.

“Jaehyun?” he asks after the third ring. “Can you come earlier for your shift? Something came up.”

When he’s sure someone is going to take over for him, he makes his round in the empty kitchen, grabbing whatever he thinks might be immediately necessary: clean towels, an empty bucket in case of an emergency, and a glass of water.

You’re placid when he returns, eyes puffed out and red as you stare at nothing in particular. He hands you the water and you immediately finish it before he can blink.

You mumble a quick apology as he exchanges the empty glass for the clean towel.

“Don’t worry about it. This will all be billed towards room service.”

You chuckle and throw him back the towel which lands squarely on his face.

“Not funny.”

“I’m dead serious. Look at this damage on my shirt!” he points at the makeup smear accusingly, causing an escalation in your laughter. But the tears return, and you wordlessly wipe them with your palms.

“Come,” he offers his hand for you to take. “You have to eat.”

You stare wordlessly at it for a while, before taking it and pulling yourself to stand. You’re wobbly on your feet, and Jungkook tightens his grip on your hand in an attempt to steady you.

“I can’t go out like this,” you mumble. Jungkook nods in agreement as he wears a playful grin. You nudge his side, brows furrowed and lips forming into a pout. “I know I look like a mess. No need to rub it in.”

“I never said anything,” he chuckles. “Weren’t you the one asking to go out again?”

“I still do. But don’t worry,” you pat the back of his hand reassuringly. “You don’t have to come with.”

“I haven’t noticed Taehyung pass through yet, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Jungkook watches your expression morph back into a blank stare. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything, after all. His mind scrambles to quickly divulge the topic. “Where do you want to go? I already called my replacement at the front desk—”

“I know this is a bed and breakfast and not a hotel, but you guys have liquor, right?”

You’ve somehow convinced Jungkook to siphon a bottle of whiskey and a few cans of beer from the lodging’s inventory. Though he can quite happily admit that it didn’t take much to get him on board. But he technically can’t be seen drinking and lounging on the job for morale’s sake, so he sneaks in some food along with the alcohol — and you — back to his room. Although Jaehyun did catch you and Jungkook on the way up.

(He promises a wage increase if Jaehyun doesn’t say anything to Jungkook’s older brother. You didn’t have to but since you offered, I’ll take it, the latter said.)

“Apologies for the mess,” he mutters, holding the door with his foot as he welcomes you. He turns on the lamp instead of the main lights since they’re less obtrusive to the eye.

“Are you kidding?” you stumble in, trying not to drop the cans of beer you’re holding. “This place is practically spotless. You have bodies in your closet, don’t you?”

Jungkook laughs as he makes a beeline for the makeshift table sitting between his pseudo-living-room-slash-bedroom and kitchen—

“Wait, you have a kitchen?”

Jungkook isn’t sure if you’re perplexed or amazed. He shrugs nonchalantly either way.

“Perks of being part-owner, I guess?”

He haphazardly throws a blanket and a pillow near the table for you to sit in, but apparently, you have other plans and proceed to make a home for yourself in his bed. You bury your head in the sheets, mumbling, “It smells good.”

“I change the sheets every month,” he boasts rather proudly; all part of his routine.

“I should definitely check that closet.”

“By all means,” he grins, plopping down in front of the table. He’s yet to have dinner, so his intentions to get food and beer had been partly selfish. Jungkook turns to you, now laying on your side, sullen eyes already studying him. He quickly looks away and grabs a spoon before holding it up.

“Food? You’re probably hungry, right? I know I’m always craving, especially after a good cry. Not that I cry often, but doing so from time to time doesn’t hurt either, I suppose. I hope that doesn’t sound too weird—I know there’s this stigma around men and crying but honestly, it’s all such bullshit. We are born into the world crying, it’s literally the first thing we do as humans. Anyway, do you fancy some beef and white rice? I know it’s not much, but...what are you laughing for?”

Jungkook watches you descend into hysteria, clutching your stomach as your giggles turn silent, but your shoulders are still visibly shaking. You heave for air, turning over so your back is face to him.

“If I knew I was this funny, I would have switched careers,” he mumbles, though loud enough for you to hear, as he stuffs his face with rice.

“It’s not too late,” you reply with a sniffle. “You can still change your mind.”

“That’s true, I suppose. Don’t they have that saying that goes ‘a fickle heart is the only constant in this world’ or something?”

Your head whips back towards him, swollen eyes wide in astonishment. “Did you just quote Howl’s Moving Castle?”

His nose scrunches up in deep thought. “Maybe? I did watch it recently.”

“You’re an odd one, Jeon Jungkook,” you muse quietly, eyes mimicking one of the phases of the moon as you grin.

“Says the person who’s soiling my fresh linen with her tears,” he says playfully. But there’s no reply this time around, and he quickly backtracks. “It’s okay to laugh at that one—it was a joke. A very terrible one, apparently.”

“No. You’re quite spot on, actually.”

Jungkook doesn’t speak for a while, unsure whether he should be overstepping the boundary more than he should have. But he looks at your vulnerable state, splayed across his bed, and thinks all formalities are out the window at this point. Despite the previous state of your relationship with him, or otherwise the lack of it, this would probably constitute friendship. Therefore, as a friend, it’s his moral duty to rid you of your throes and woes, even just a little.

“Where did you go, anyway? Must have been fun if you got all shit-faced like this.”

Keeping the tone airy is probably the best way to go as an introduction.

“Just a pub. I didn’t want to go clubbing by myself, it could have been dangerous.”

Jungkook’s forehead creases with worry, and he holds himself back from the question that he’s burning to ask: Then where the hell is Kim Taehyung? He reserves the right to be outright angry because he knows it’s not his place to. He reaches for the can of beer, which hisses in frustration when he opens it.

“You don’t have friends in the city?” he asks, hoping you will not take offence at his question. You shrug.

“I didn’t really keep in touch with anyone after moving away. It felt weird asking someone out of the blue.”

“You could have called me,” he says without much thought.

“I seriously considered it, but…” you trail off, leaving Jungkook to fill the void himself. He doesn’t mind that he probably didn’t cross your mind as a go-to person to call in times of crisis. “I heard you were quite the party pooper in high school, so I had my doubts.”

“Hey!” he protests, but you ignore him and continue. He doesn’t disagree, of course, but being called out is not a fun experience whether it came from a drunk acquaintance or not.

“New in town, straight-A student—but to be fair, quite good-looking and athletic to boot. My god, all my friends had a stupid on crush on you.”

Jungkook’s cheeks grow warm with embarrassment at the deluge of compliments. “Me? With gangly limbs and an awful bowl-cut? Who couldn’t even get a single word out to anybody, especially girls, without stuttering? That Jungkook?”

“You need to give yourself a little more credit than that, Jeon.” You’re facing him once again, both hands tucked neatly beneath your head.

He nods as an acknowledgement but swiftly changes the subject. “Are you sure you don’t want to eat, though? I’m halfway through this already.”

“I’m sure. I think I’ll probably just nap, then go,” you chuckle. Jungkook can only offer you a rueful smile. He doesn’t mind if you’re unwilling to share the whole spiel of what caused you to be miserable enough to drink by yourself. He’s quite well-versed in that area, after all. It doesn’t solve anything, sure, but it’s enough to numb the feeling of being alone with his thoughts. He doesn’t have to guess who the root of it is, though.

He sighs as he turns on the television, before lowering it down to a manageably quiet level where it will not disturb your sleep. He doesn’t have a particular show in mind to watch, but having the mindless static accompany him is more than enough.

“I lied,” you begin after several minutes of silence. “I can’t sleep.”

“That’s because you’re doing it wrong,” he motions for you to move over as he walks closer to the bed. You follow his instruction, and he peels a layer of the bedsheet. Jungkook laughs as you scramble to get under it. “Better now?”

You didn’t answer but instead, lift your head from the sheets before nodding. He’s overcome with a sense of assurance when he sees your peaceful, content expression.

He hasn’t so much as turned his back on you when you call his name out once more.

“Jungkook.”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

“Just make sure you leave us a five-star rating.”

He grins just as you crack one eye open. “I’m serious.”

“So am I. We need that public approval to keep running,” he watches the corner of your lips twitch in amusement as you settle back comfortably into the futon with a nod.

“Jungkook.”

“Yes?”

“Was I wrong? For feeling wanted, I mean.”

Your question catches him by surprise; suddenly the hardwood floor beneath him begins to feel cold against his feet. Instead of returning to his previous spot, he carefully sits on the edge of the bed as the springs creak from his weight. He pulls both his legs underneath him; he couldn’t quite face you, so he stares at the television, instead.

“I don’t think so. We all crave validation, more so from our partners than anybody else. I think it’s natural. Otherwise, it’s pointless.”

“Pointless,” you echo softly.

“Doesn’t mean you can’t work it out, though. Part of it is communicating your needs to each other.”

Hypocrite, Jungkook says to himself. It’s laughable, the level of bullshit he allows himself to bask in. What’s the point of giving someone else advice, when he can’t even get his shit together?

“You have to be truthful because the other person might not know what you want.”

“I know that,” your voice is shaky when you speak. Jungkook hedges his bet and assumes that you began crying once more; he didn’t need to look back to confirm. “I guess I’m just scared of facing the outcome of the confrontation when it does happen.”

“You don’t want to be abandoned when shit hits the fan,” he says more to himself than you.

“Exactly. I don’t even know when it began. One day I just woke up and,” you pause, and Jungkook hears you sniffle. “And everything felt so unfamiliar. The places—the people I thought I knew. It’s like I dissociated from my body, and I've just been on autopilot ever since.”

You pause, and Jungkook continues for you. “And you thought going along with the flow would fix things, but it feels even more jarring because you’ve lost that sense of familiarity.”

“Yeah, exactly. I thought coming here would somehow magically restore everything, but quite the opposite, actually. I guess running away from it doesn’t solve anything,” you chuckle bitterly. He slowly shifts on the bed to face you.

For the first time in a long time, Jungkook feels seen; like someone has found the lock to the door he threw away so long ago. Your words continuously play on a loop in his mind, forcing him to look at the actions he’s been taking. Certainly, he’s not racing away from himself by choosing to move to a different country despite his parents’ protest, is he? What about the fact that he chooses not to tell her, the supposed love of his life, about the fact that he’d felt so deprived that he couldn’t resist the temptation to have sex with someone else? And to top it all off, he doesn’t have the guts to tell her.

Jungkook knows he doesn't deserve the right to sit there and tell you what to do when he doesn’t dare to be honest in his relationship.

When you’ve cried your eyes dry and the evenness of your breathing signifies you’re fast asleep, Jungkook gently moves from his spot on the bed. He grabs the phone that has been idly on top of the table, before heading to the bathroom and closing the door shut. No matter the outcome of the conversation, she deserves the truth.

Jungkook inhales deeply and presses the call button.

You rise before daybreak, and at a glance, Jungkook is nowhere to be found. There’s a painful throb on the side of your head as you sit up, and you ignore it as you untangle yourself from the sheets. With the help of the lights from the television, you find him splayed across the couch not too far from where you stand. He’s still wearing the same clothes he had on a few hours ago, and guilt creeps up quicker than you anticipated it to.

You untuck the blanket you’ve used from his bed before walking towards him, careful not to disturb his slumber.

“I apologize for bothering you,” you mumble as you lay the blanket softly on top of him. You didn’t think to wake him before your departure; you already told him that you were set to leave after a short nap, anyway.

Hurriedly, you exit his room, forgetting that you’re completely barefoot. It’s fine, it’s just a few floors down, anyway.

The short elevator ride gives you little room to prepare for what you’re going to tell Taehyung. You glance at the phone you’ve been keeping on ‘do not disturb’ to find two missed calls from him a few hours prior. You just hope he’s already asleep by the time you get to your room.

You’re relieved when you enter and the lights are turned off. It feels juvenile to be sneaking around as you use your phone’s light to pick up a discarded shirt before stripping away your clothes and hurriedly putting it on.

Taehyung’s body is turned towards the wall as he hugs the pillow tightly against his body. Seeing him tranquil and at peace shifts your mood, as if all the frustration you feel dissipates within an instant. You slide under the covers, careful not to disturb him but he shifts at your presence anyway. He forgoes the pillow, snaking his arms around your waist instead as he inches closer.

“Where have you been?” he murmurs sleepily against your ear.

“Just...here.”

He doesn’t ask further and you don’t elaborate, thinking that he’s fallen back asleep. A part of you is glad for the unadulterated freedom he’s giving you. But there’s a sudden feeling of optimism; perhaps the sensation of loneliness will pass, and that you’re merely being dramatic (for the lack of better term). Once again you’re lulled into complacency. But it’s never a bad thing to just hope for the best, right?

But Taehyung is gone by noon when you finally have the decency to peel yourself off the bed. There’s a simple text from several hours ago that reads: Didn’t want to disturb you. Call me later.

You do exactly that, but it takes you straight to voicemail. Twice. Three times.

Dread settles in the pit of your stomach, but you try not to read into the situation too much.

“It’s fine, I wanted a day to go around by myself anyway,” you say out loud, uncaring if the walls are the only ones hearing you out. You fall back into the mattress, knowing the eagerness to get ready will not come unless there’s anybody to encourage.

But it seems like you didn’t have to wait for your saving grace for too long because your phone rings and you immediately roll over to reach for it.

Your heart sinks when you read the caller ID, but you grin and answer the call, anyway.

“Hey, Mom.”

She answers back cheerily, before divulging into her familiar list of questions; the usual how are you’s and the have you been eating well’s. When she finally inquires about Taehyung, you answer hesitantly.

“He’s out for work. You know how it is.”

She sighs and you wince, regretting your choice of tone. “Did you argue again?”

“No! That’s not it at all. I’m just—”

“Whatever it is, just be patient with him,” she admonishes. Your grip on the phone tightens. Right, because that very same rhetoric did nothing to salvage your marriage with Dad. It had been one of the reasons why you decided to move away after high school in the first place. Your mother managed to convince you to move in with her, stating that she wanted to make up for being absent most of your youth.

A different country. Foreign places to see, people to meet. The thrill of it all had been enough to convince you to depart the only place you knew your entire life. But part of the reason why you agreed had been because you were growing weary of living with your father’s new family. There was never a sense of belonging that tied you to Seoul despite spending all your life there.

Except for Taehyung.

He followed you five years later, like a fool in love. Then you decided to get married two years after rekindling your relationship. Three years since then, it feels like you’re floating in between two sides of the same coin with him, neither in bliss nor in terror.

“I know,” you chew your bottom lip. Fear is catching fire in your chest, and you smother it quickly so it will not disperse and reach your heart. “I’m trying.”

She switches the topic quicker than you can wipe the tears that manage to fall, and soon enough she’s complaining to you about having to come out for late lunch with her friends. Your answers are short and subdued, just enough to let her know that you’re still there, but your mind is itching to run somewhere else. Before she hangs up, you give her a gentle reminder to check on your apartment. She promises not to forget.

“Have fun, dear! Don’t forget to visit the places I told you about.”

“You act as if I didn’t live here before,” she chuckles at your unintended humour. “But don’t worry, I won’t.”

The line cuts after a short goodbye, and you welcome silence with a long sigh. It seems like there’s a lot on the list for you to finish: get some food to cure your hangover, take a nap, and then another after waking up. The prospect of going out alone is more daunting than it seems, therefore, staying in feels like it’s the best option.

Suddenly, a fleeting thought crosses your mind. You could have called me.

You instinctively reach for the telephone by the bedside table and dial his room number, fresh and vivid in your memory.

It takes half an hour to get to the destination Jungkook suggested. He agreed that you’ll treat him to (a very late afternoon) lunch if he picks the place.

“No way, it’s still here!” you exclaim as soon as you step foot off the cab. Waves of nostalgia come trickling in one by one, then hits you all at once when you open the door. Your senses are overwhelmed with familiar spices as soon as you push the door open. You look back and beam at Jungkook, who’s watching you with a small smile.

It’s only when you’re seated and have ordered that Jungkook clears his throat before saying, “I’m glad you still remember.”

You gawk at him, before crossing your legs firmly beneath you.

“Are you kidding? They have the best bibimbap and tofu stew. I was here almost every night especially during the exam period.”

“I know,” he says with confidence and you eye him with suspicion. “I mean, it was tough not to. You were always so loud around your friends.”

You scoff at him despite you knowing it to be true, but Jungkook takes no offence to it as he grins.

“It’s called having fun. You should try it sometime,” you point at him with your spoon.

“I am having fun with—”

“If you say ‘with you’, I swear to god you’re going to pay for the food instead,” you warn him despite a smile threatening to break from your lips.

“With you,” he emphasizes the phrase almost mockingly. You murmur the word “impossible” under your breath as you feel the tips of your ears grow warm.

Although the comment seems gratuitous at the time of its conception, to Jungkook’s credit you also come to enjoy time spent with him. Perhaps it’s the fact that he stands between novelty and familiarity that you fall into an easy discourse with him; you didn’t have to choose your words too carefully or worry that he might think ill of you based on what you say. There’s no seed of doubt and no root cause of anxiety.

You can’t help but find it odd, nevertheless.

Jungkook, whom you’ve never shared more than two lines before your current interaction with him. You’d never have thought in a million years you’d confide in somebody who used to give you odd stares and unfriendly glares when you passed by him in the halls of your high school. The past you would gawk, confused as to how he manages to coax even the tiniest smile out of you.

You’re about to point out that very fact to Jungkook when your phone rings and you’re immediately reprieved back out of the comfort of his presence.

It’s Taehyung, and you immediately answer.

“Babe, don’t freak out, but I’m currently in Daegu. Crazy! I know, I know. But remember I told you last night about—”

He begins listing names you recall hearing in passing. But it didn’t matter, because you stop paying attention after hearing where his current location is.

“—is why I couldn’t answer your call. But don’t worry, I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon, probably.”

You watch Jungkook shift in his seat as he asks you if everything’s all right. You nod instinctively.

“Okay.”

“Cool. I’ll call you again later after we get settled. Love you.”

“Mhm.”

He must have been in a hurry because the call cuts before you could get another word in. Although you didn’t attempt to answer longer than a few sentences in the first place, afraid that the quiver in your voice will reveal the hurt and anger that has slowly been piling up one by one.

Jungkook thinks you’re a dam that’s overfilled and just about ready to burst. He’s afraid because you seem overly happy, obviously overcompensating for the devastation he had seen in your eyes hours prior to your call. He needn’t guess who it had been on the other side. Although he doesn’t know what Taehyung said, it’s enough to send you in a frantic search for your sanity.

This begins with you asking him to go to a karaoke bar with you, before proceeding to order several drinks. It’s on me, Jeon! I owe you lots, you declare before proceeding to down a whole glass of beer in one go.

Within the privacy the four walls of the room bring, you pour your energy into one upbeat song after another, seemingly uncaring of Jungkook’s presence. That is until your umpteenth song ends, and you turn away from the screen dramatically and towards him to hand him the mic.

“Your turn!”

“Great, I thought you’d never ask,” he says sarcastically and you join him on the seat, giggling. He takes the remote and punches in his selected number as a familiar tune comes through the speakers. He looks at you as he begins to sing the lyrics of the verse, and you break out into a small grin.

“I’m trying to realize, it’s alright to not be fine…” he sings softly as your head gently leans on his shoulder. Jungkook lets you.

He does again on the cab ride to the pub for a late dinner. And again on the way home. The weight of your presence against him is most likely inconsequential to the heaviness you carry around with you. That’s why he’ll do his part even though he most likely doesn’t have to; anything to let you know you’re not alone. He just hopes you know.

“Jungkook,” your voice is quiet against his ear as he carries you up the concrete steps.

“Yes?” he adjusts you on his back, careful not to drop you. He’s only slightly inebriated, and he’s hoping there will be no accidents for him or you.

“Thank you.”

“Just leave us a—”

“Five-star rating,” hearing your laughter feels ticklish in his stomach. “I will.”

His older brother greets him with an odd look once he enters the door of the lobby, before asking, “Is this what you skipped work for?”

“I’m only cashing in my days off before a leave,” Jungkook points at the elevator with his chin.

“Yeah, yeah,” his brother says dismissively before pressing the button for Jungkook. Silence passes through them as they wait for the doors to open. “Is she the reason why you changed your mind?”

Jungkook feels the steady rhythm of your pulse against his back, which is kilometres away from his erratic heartbeat. He tries not to put too much thought into it; he did just carry you up several flights of stairs, after all.

The harsh ping of the bell saves him from answering, and the older didn’t press him any further. It’s only after he’s turned the keys to your room, safely placed you on the bed — but not before he falls back onto the spot beside you with a deep sigh — that he has the time to formulate an articulate response.

“I’d like to think I did it out of my own volition. But a lot has happened the last few days, and, well…” he trails off as he turns his body to face you, one hand tucked against his cheek as the other reaches out to comb a stray hair out of your face.

You stir under his touch but he doesn’t make the effort to move away.

“Seems like I owe you again, Jeon Jungkook,” you whisper, the words stringing together seemingly in an indecipherable sound. He manages to put the pieces together, nonetheless.

“You’re not under any obligation to repay me,” he grins when you peel your eyes open. “I don’t want to give you all the credit, but you might have saved me more than once.”

“How so?”

The reflection of the city lights chase away the dimness of the room, but they also reflect your eyes in a way that makes Jungkook think you’re holding the galaxy’s secrets within them.

“I was having this, sort of, midlife crisis—”

“I’m going to stop you right there,” you place your elbow against the mattress as you lean your flushed cheeks against your palm. “Saying you’re having a midlife crisis now in your late twenties makes it seem like your life’s going to end in your sixties.”

He shrugs half-heartedly. The pessimist in him urges him to declare, “Who’s to say I won’t?”

“Boo! I hate this story already.”

“Buckle up, because it’s about to get worse,” he smiles wryly.

And Jungkook opens up his fresh wounds and bares his soul without pomp and flowery words. He watches your reaction intently, nonetheless, knowing well enough that by the end of the night, he might get kicked out of the halls. He’ll take the punishment kindly, since she didn’t have the chance to slap him when he could tell, despite the distance, that she would punch him square in the face.

“I know it’s wrong, and I’m not making any excuses for my actions.”

“I feel like I have no place to get angry at you. But strictly speaking, from a rational person’s point of view...fuck you.”

“I deserve no less,” he says, appreciating your candour. “That’s why last night, when you fell asleep, I told her everything. I realized that I had no place to speak of communicating when I’ve been holding out on the truth from her for a while now. You can only imagine how angry she is with me.” He swallows thickly, hating the way his throat constricts uncomfortably. Perhaps he did care about how you’ll view him, after all.

“Are you all right, though?”

The worry engraved in the crease between your brow disarms him; the unexpected delicacy in the way you ask him suddenly brings him into sobriety. After hearing the phrase I don’t want to see you, ever, he hasn’t had the time to process how he feels other than the guilt that continues to plague him. He’d buried heartbreak that comes along after losing somebody so quickly that realizing it now has him terrified of himself.

Has he truly reached the point where he’s incapable of feeling anything?

Or is it that somewhere between then and now, he’s fallen out of love with her and made excuses for himself so that it’s easier to let her hate him because he didn’t have the courage to break it off? Is it because he’s using her as an excuse — his ticket out of Seoul, out of the life he thinks to be mundane? Because if so, then he’s an even bigger scumbag than he originally thought.

“Jungkook?”

The warmth of your hand on his cheek salvages him from sinking into the bottomless depth of his thoughts.

“I can’t believe I strung her along for this long.”

Then it hits him all at once; an unavoidable freight train carrying the emotions he’s repressed himself from bearing. In him blossoms the violent need to abate the heaviness that began festering within the depths of his mind a long time ago.

One sob and you pull him against you. Two and you’re running your hands soothingly down the curves of his back. Three, and he’s clinging onto you for dear life as the uncontrollable cries consume him. He’s overcome by a sense of déjà vu as you wrap your arms tighter against him.

Jungkook lets you.

Again and again, he will selfishly welcome your presence, as if doing so would diminish him of any wrongdoings he has committed.

You drift in and out of consciousness, but the warm body stays unchanged beside you. Another aspect feels indifferent: The pounding headache constantly knocking against your temple. In hindsight, you probably need to stop drinking to the point where your body can’t handle the after-effects. Inhaling slowly puts your mind at ease as the scent of fresh lavender wafts over your senses; you’re immediately reminded of hanging freshly laundered sheets during a hot summer day. Only one person manages to conjure such specific and vivid imagery for you.

Jeon Jungkook.

Your body goes rigid at the feeling of his heavy arm draped across your waist. You slowly open your eyes, hoping that your initial hunch is wrong, and you’re merely dreaming that you let someone who’s neither a stranger nor a friend lay in bed with you.

But you’re met with his peaceful sleeping face, a stark difference between last night’s troubled and despaired Jungkook. For a split second, you let your mind wander with your heart amongst the perilous grounds of your imagination.

If picturing life with him is a sin, then there’s absolutely no saving you from entering the depths of hell.

(A tad bit over-dramatic on your part, but you believe you have the license to do so since you just woke up in the arms of someone else other than Taehyung.)

Despite the slight panic accentuated by the quick palpitations of your heartbeat, you make no genuine effort to move away. Bits of cynicism creeps up, either way, as you berate yourself for clinging onto anybody willing to keep you company.

But at this point, is Jungkook truly just ‘anybody’ to you? In a short period of time, you’ve managed to share more with him than you’ve had with Taehyung. With Jungkook, there’s nobody to compete for attention with.

So, what is holding you back from leaving the anguish behind and instead run straight on towards Jungkook? Is the sanctity of marriage you’ve sworn to uphold after seeing how it tore your own family apart enough of a reason to stay with him?

The answer sits on the tip of your tongue like a ripe fruit ready to burst.

Jungkook shifts his position as he raises one eyelid open before breaking out into a lazy grin. You return the gesture as you peel yourself away from his touch to sit upon the mattress and stretch your limbs wide.

“That was the best sleep I had in a while,” he admits.

“Maybe all you needed was a good cry.”

He gives you a knowing look. “Maybe.”

Silence ensues, and all of a sudden you’re unsure of what to tell him when minutes ago you allowed yourself to stare at him unabated. How exactly are you supposed to express gratification to the person who’s allowed themselves to be the unfortunate passenger to your rollercoaster of emotions? What’s more, is you’d done the same for him. Do you, then, without a need for more words, go back to how it had been previously and pretend nothing had happened?

You didn’t have much time to ponder because your phone vibrates in the back pocket of your jeans.

“What do you mean by ‘we need to talk’?”

“Good morning to you too, Taehyung,” you mumble. Jungkook’s eyes widen in surprise, as if in sudden realization of something he’d forgotten. He moves off the bed and motions for the bathroom. You nod wordlessly. It almost slipped your mind that you sent him a somewhat vague text the night previous after Jungkook’s spiel. “It means exactly what it says. We need to talk when you get back. You are coming back, right?”

“What’s with the sudden hostility in your tone? Of course, I’m coming back.”

“I think I deserve to be a little hostile,” a sudden wave of bravery washes over you. “How exactly am I supposed to feel after you leave me without warning on our trip?”

“I told you—”

“Stop fucking lying to me, Kim Taehyung,” your voice breaks as tears blur your vision. “You never talk about anything with me anymore, and you know it.” There’s a certain pride you feel when he doesn’t respond right away. “I can’t talk to you about this on the phone. I’ll be here when you get back.”

Jungkook returns well after you’ve ended the call with Taehyung.

“I should probably get back to my room and change. I need to take over for my brother.”

You follow him towards the door, where he haphazardly puts on his shoes. When he stands, he gazes at you, eyes filled with tenderness. Your heart stutters. “Will you be okay?”

“Of course,” you offer him an encouraging smile, but he doesn’t return it. With one nod he’s out the door, and you watch as his figure retreats towards the elevator without so much as a wave, not knowing that would be the last you see of him for a while.

Taehyung’s arrival comes earlier than expected and catches you after your long shower, but says nothing to quell your worries. He merely sits on the bed and watches you pace around the room; for a comb one minute, then you put on lotion next, then you’re folding clothes to be laundered — anything to busy yourself from confrontation. It’s not that your courage has wavered, but rather your dignity prevents you from breaking first.

Yet as soon as your name rolls off his tongue, there’s a magnetic pull that has your feet nimbly walking to where he is.

“I’m sorry,” is all it takes from him for you to unravel completely. There’s no shortage of fresh, hot tears as he engulfs you against him. You bring your palms up to grab on his shirt tightly, before hitting his chest with no real intentions of hurting him. He doesn’t stop you but instead pulls back to place a chaste kiss on your forehead. Your arms fall nimbly to the side and Taehyung continues to mutter apologies one after the other, catching each teardrop before they reach the bottom of your ruddy cheeks.

He waits until you’ve stopped sobbing before you begin diving into a conversation that’s been long overdue. Slowly, the walls you’ve built around yourself begin to crumble brick by brick as the imperfections of your relationship reveal itself on the surface. It’s uncomfortable for him as much as it is for you to dredge up old wounds, evident by the way his eyes well up with tears, but it’s an intervention needed to regain what was, if possible.

Both you and Taehyung know one conversation is not enough to undo the fractures, but it’s a step closer towards salvation.

The end of your trip creeps up closer than you’d like. You stopped tagging along with Taehyung’s workdays because he agreed to go places with you. Days without him are spent milling around the neighbouring places of the bed and breakfast, which leads to your discovery of the best spicy rice cake just around the corner of the street. There is also the obligatory bike ride alone around the Han river, which proves to be more satisfactory than almost anything you’ve ever done.

You find yourself looking for Jungkook in-between the hours where your mind wanders and for a split second, all of your thoughts are suddenly dedicated to him. Deception comes in the form of denial when you push the aimless sentiments aside, afraid that you might get too carried away. It’s maddening to think that he only seems to show up in times of dire need as if the deity responsible for overlooking fate is playing tricks on you.

(Though you know that if you want to see him, the only thing you have to do is knock on his door. You dismiss that idea, either way, for fear of being too obtrusive.)

On the day of your departure, you wake up early to catch breakfast. You ask Taehyung if he wants to join you despite knowing the answer. He grunts in response but stays unmoving. You untangle yourself from the warmth of his body before placing a soft kiss on his cheek.

Food has been prepared once you’re in the dining area, but there’s nobody to be found. It immediately reminds you of the first morning of your arrival—the excited faces of the children and their parents who were engrossed in a serious conversation, and the elderly couple enjoying their morning of peace together. Two weeks have gone by, and you’re not even sure if they’re still here or if they’ve moved on to see other places, meet other people.

Inadvertently, you steal a glimpse of the kitchen door, waiting for it to swing open and reveal the one person whose smile you’ve been longing to witness one last time. You grin as you shake your head; your propensity towards wishful thinking never ceases to make you feel disheartened.

“Last time you were staring longingly at your soup, and today you’re smiling to yourself,” his voice cuts through your thoughts intrusively as he strolls in, dressed down in a pair of casual joggers and an ill-fitting shirt too big to possibly belong to him. “Hi.”

Your gaze meets his, and breathlessly, you say, “Hi.”

He doesn’t make any gesture that indicates he wants to sit and chat this time around.

“Been busy?”

“I could say the same about you,” your lips curl upwards in a small smile. There’s a landslide of things you want to ask him, topics you want to share. You want to thank him over and over, invite him for a meal or even a simple walk around town. But words seem to fail you as you shift your eyes to stare at your half-eaten plate of fruit slices.

“My older brother mentioned you’re leaving today,” he announces offhandedly, scratching the nape of his neck. You’d like to think he’s just as unsure as you on how to go about having a conversation. Is he also stumbling over his thoughts like you are?

“Uh, yeah—” you flick your wristwatch to check the time— “I just have to wake Taeyhung, and we’ll be on our way.” The rueful smile he gives you feels like a splinter prodding your heart. “You?”

“Oh, I was just on my way to grab something before heading to the gym.”

“Ah,” you nod. Unlike the last time you two shared a conversation in the same place, this one is marred by awkward pauses and long bouts of silence. Afraid this will cause him to leave, you promptly state, “I honestly thought you ended up leaving the country since I didn’t see much of you.”

“That was the plan, yes,” his smile finally reaches his eyes. “I was supposed to leave a week ago— I mean, I had already bought the tickets and despite how it ended with me and her, I still wanted to leave. But someone told me just because you try to run from your problems doesn’t mean it will not follow you there.”

You chuckle as you shake your head. He continues. “I feel like I owe it to her to grant her wishes of not wanting to see me, no matter how much I wanted to get out of this place. A lot of reasons compelled me to stay, and I think I’m better for it.”

When your gaze meets his, there’s an unstated agreement; a kinship that cannot be unbound, locked away in a time you can only revisit through your memory.

“With that being said, I might tour Europe in two months’ time, starting with Sweden,” he grins playfully, cheeks dotted with a dimple. You roll your eyes as you stand before shoving him lightly by the shoulder.

“Alright, Richie Rich, no need to rub it in. I get it, I get it.”

“You have me mistaken, Miss. This was a culmination of years of hard work and savings.”

“I’m happy for you,” you say with finality. No matter how much you did not want the conversation to end, there’s a twinge of sweetness to a farewell amidst the bleakness that often comes along; it doesn’t always have to end in thunder and rainfall.

But then he asks, “Are you happy for you?”

It might have been then, at that moment, where you’d willingly say blurt the phrase out loud, your situation be damned. But you didn’t—you couldn’t. Not when you nod wordlessly. Not when he opens his arms seemingly as a conclusion, a wordless action that says: I should probably let you go so I can also go about with my day. Instead, you carefully place the three words in your back pocket to be used later before you step into the warmth of his embrace.

He whispers a farewell and a promise that you know you’ll carry in your heart until the time fate allows you to meet again at another time and another place.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #taehyung fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenario #taehyung scenario #jungkook x you #taehyung x you #taehyung x reader #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #writing #taehyung #jungkook

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devincly · 3 years

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❝ i was a LITTLE GIRL, and i climbed through an open window because i heard singing. i was attracted to what i saw inside.. it was someone safe. this little ray of sunshine who didn't have a care in the world. you had EVERYTHING. family meals around the table. i wanted that. "how was your day, maya?" "it was great, dad." you had that. you went to bed with a SMILE on your face every night, while i went to bed wondering if my FATHER was going to be at the breakfast table in the morning. i wanted that! ❞

{ sabrina carpenter, cis woman, she/her } have you heard that MAYA HART from GIRL MEETS WORLD appeared in town? i know, i can’t believe it either. she is NINETEEN years old and are a ARTIST. I’ve heard that she has a tendency to be MAVERICK & CONFIDENT and SARCASTIC & DAMAGED, and they have ALL of their old memories.

cw: absentee father, runaway

HISTORY.

at a young age, maya decided to run away from home due to her parents constantly fighting. she was tired of hearing the angry yells of her parents, she desperately wanted a family that actually liked being around each other. she was driven to a girl's singing, crawling through a window to meet riley matthews. she was a seemingly perfect and happy little girl, a girl who would soon change her life for the better.

riley became extremely important to her, never leaving her side despite their ever-growing differences. as their friendship grew, maya clung on to the one constant in her life. her father walked out on her when she was five, and her mom distanced herself and focused on putting a roof over their heads than being there when maya needed her the most. riley became maya's rock, and she wouldn't replace that for anything.

maya was constantly in trouble growing up. she wasn't the best influence, influencing riley to sneak out on to the subway, sneaking out of detention, to more and more trouble and chaos. she needed someone like riley matthews to balance her out, to spread her good onto her conscience. she needed the father figure that cory matthews was to her for so long.

maya always believed that it was her mother that drew men away, people that could be her father. it wasn’t until her fourteenth birthday that her view changed. shawn hunter went to katy’s work, trying to get her to remember maya’s birthday. after all, katy hadn’t forgotten her birthday. she needed to work the extra shifts in order to afford a heart shaped locket with a family photo hidden inside. shawn revealed to maya that her mom hadn’t drove off her father. her father left on his own, left the both of them. maya became appreciative of her mother, finally seeing her as one of them.

there was one lesson of cory's that stuck with her. in the seventh grade, cory assigned them to put down their phones, and do their research in books. so, maya, riley, lucas and farkle all went to the public library. maya read a chapter out of a book called "disconnecting to connect" — unplugging yourself from technology makes for better human interaction. it wasn't until they put down their phones and looked into each other's eyes that they really connected. maya figured something out of herself during this lesson: she was really good at art. at the time, she would deny that she connected with her friends. she learned that she could have a deeper connection with someone by sitting down and talking.

shawn hunter was cory's lifelong best friend. she grew up hearing stories about him, cory had been so fond of him. it wasn't until they actually met that maya realized how special he actually was. they bonded over their dysfunctional childhoods, how much they were alike. maya grew attached to shawn, wanting him to be her father. this was the first time she allowed herself to have hope. soon, shawn fell in love with her mother, katy, and married her.

IVYWOOD.

maya hart thrives in situations where she could go in blindly. so, when she woke up in a motel in a town she had never been in before, she picked up her feet and confidently took a step forward. she got herself an apartment, and has been selling her artwork and taking commissions. she is always found with a sketchbook in her arm, a look of wonder on her features. she knew her friends would be proud of her for doing something with her talents.

HEADCANONS.

maya has the special ability to fall asleep wherever she seemed fit.

maya is the ring leader for all sorts of chaos.

she believes that having hope is for suckers. she doesn’t want to feel hope. she doesn’t want to bring more things into her life that could hurt her and become broken. because of this, she doesn’t necessarily talk about her emotions and how she feels. she would rather turn it down and change the subject rather than facing what she fears the most: hope.

maya found it frustrating when people were saying she was becoming riley. she always viewed it as becoming a better self, not becoming someone she wasn't. she didn't always want to be the sad, hopeless girl that she always was. she still feels like it wasn't fair for her to be cast as that.

she can play the guitar and sing. this talent rains down from her great grandmother: may clutterbucket. may gave up her dreams in 1961, but maya seems to exhibit those talents.

WANTED CONNECTIONS.

ship — i have always shipped lucas friar and maya hart. so, i would love to have lucas friar. she needs huckleberry back in town before she loses her mind. but if anyone would like to ship with her!! lmk!!!

friends — i would love to have riley, smackle, farkle, and zay here! if not, i think having friends outside of her friend group would be good for her. people who like art or music or rebellion are people she orbits, so.

#ivywood:intro #* ⋆ ·　. ˚ maya hart » lost so much more than my senses.#cw: absentee father #cw: runaway

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67impalaandwhisky · 4 years

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Destiny Is Heaven Sent

Summary: Knowing Dean Winchester since you were fifteen, you’ve always been pulled in his direction. Always wanting to open up the rattled and broken cage your heart lives in. But when the child you’ve been raising together dies, you find yourself closing up the cage of your heart again. And if destiny has one thing for you, it’s to break you down before bringing you back up.

Characters: Dean x You, Sam, Castiel, Bobby, OFC’s, OMC’s, (Ongoing)

This Series Is Set Through Seasons 1-6 With Knowledge That The Bunker Exists

Rating: 18+

Warnings (Ongoing and Will Be Updated): Grieving, Mentions of Rape and Defilement (As Per A Case), Show Level Violence, Swearing, Smut, Impreg Kink, Blood, Fighting, Drinking, Dean Being Dean, Fluff, Angst, Dom!Dean, Sub!Reader

Warnings For This Chapter: Sexual Dreams, Mentions of Pregnancy Kink,

Chapter 4.

"I'll take the couch." You grumble as all of you step into the motel room.

Dean takes off his shirt, his eyelids drooping with sleepy intentions as he throws himself onto his bed.

"Come lay down beside me." He mutters as he lays his head down on the pillow. He pats the spot beside him as he pulls back the covers.

Sam makes it a point to scurry off into the bathroom and you sigh gently.

Laying in bed with Dean last night was kind of amazing. You didn't have a single nightmare, which is rare these days after Marsh's death. And, you didn't wake up a single time during the night. Even when you drink heavily, you still find yourself waking up every so often during the late hours of the evening.

"Fine. Just don't touch me." You reply as you take off your combat boots.

"No promises, Candy girl." He mumbles as he closes his eyes.

Laying down beside you, he cages you against his chest throwing his arm over you as well as his leg. He lets out a tired chuckle but the comfort you feel is too great to tell him to get off.

In your lifetime with your two best friends by your side, you have gone on countless Djinn hunts together.

Comes with the territory of monster hunting.

Both you and Dean have been poisoned by a Djinn once or twice and even with the antidote around, those dreams can stick with you until you die.

Waking up from that dream-like state when you were twenty was disorienting and frightening. You didn't know what was real, what was fake. You cried for days on end when your life was dramatically different then what was pictured.

Now, when you do see those dreams again you adore them. You welcome them in your sleeping trance. Because in that dream, everything is perfect and so real enough that you don't look at the oddities.

Dean's Djinn dream was just as real, just as frightening at first and just as welcome in his sleep quite like yours.

"Marshall Maverick Winchester. Get that gun away from your brother at the dinner table please." You chide your oldest adopted son.

Turning his head toward you, Dean finds himself smiling. Placing a gentle kiss at your temple, he waltzes around you grabbing the dinner you've both prepared in the presence of your two sons.

"I wanna play!" Dean hears the youngest whine and he glances over at you as you flinch at the sharpness of his voice.

"Johnny Boy. Come on. Mommy doesn't feel good, stop yelling." Dean says as he places his hand on your growing stomach.

"But...But…" John whines as he holds his small hands up.

"No buts." Your husband cuts him off as he puts the burgers down on the table.

With a smile, you turn to your children with pie in hand. You were not as astonished as you should have been that they take after your husband with their favorite dessert choice.

"Is it lemon blueberry mommy?" John asks as he pulls his plate closer to his four year old body.

"Yes it is." You whisper playfully earning a warm smile from Dean.

As Dean begins to serve the food, Sam and Cas walk in with black sludge all over them.

"Oh good. Dinner." Sam cheers as he steps closer to the table.

"Nuh-uh. You better go wash up before you sit down at this table." You admonish your best friend as he frowns.

"But I don't eat." Cas counters as he takes off his mucky trenchcoat.

"Go shower before my pregnant wife smites you." Dean's voice booms through the dining room.

John and Marsh laugh with each other as Cas hangs his head before retreating to his room.

With a groan, you finally sit down at the table.

"Let me guess, your feet are swollen." Dean guesses as he sits down beside you at the head of the table.

"Bingo." You mumble as he puts a burger on your plate.

"I'll rub your feet later when we get ready for bed." He whispers in your ear, pulling back he sends you a devastating wink.

The smile you return is equally as heart shaking to him. His breath stutters and his heart rate picks up as he smiles back at you.

"Ma. He's going for pie." Marsh tells you as John leans across the table.

You fold your arms, eyebrow quipped upward as he gives a nervous giggle.

"Tattletale." He mumbles to his older brother before pulling at the pendant around his neck.

As John has been getting older, the necklace he's had on since birth has been getting tighter and tighter by the month.

His small hands go to take it off and his father is stopping him within a second.

"Don't you dare take this off, son. We've talked about this." Dean admonishes as John looks down at his plate.

"But it's tight and I feel stuffy." He mumbles as he picks up a french fry.

Marsh takes his larger necklace off before swapping and wrapping John's around his wrist twice before clasping it in place.

"We need to keep these on until we're old enough to get tattoos like mom, dad and Uncle Sammy." Marsh tells his younger brother as he grabs the ketchup.

It was heartwarming to watch, knowing that Marsh was just like Dean with John as he is with Sammy. He would always protect his younger brother no matter what.

It almost brings a tear to his father's eye as he picks up his bottle of beer.

"Why do you wear it?" Marsh inquires to his brother as he puts ketchup on his burger.

"So demons can't get me." John whispers.

The youngest only whispers about monsters in the night, as if speaking loudly will summon them to him.

"That's right. But when we're home, you don't have to be scared. Nothing is going to get you." Dean says before sipping his beer.

John nods before looking down at the pendant in his hand as he munches on his french fry.

"Leila in school says she has a crush on me." John says happily, forgetting the whole necklace debacle within seconds.

Dean's eyebrows flick upwards as he leans his elbows on the table.

"Oh yeah? Isn't it a little early to be dating in preschool?" Your husband jeers at your youngest as you giggle.

Your hand lands on your stomach, rubbing comforting circles which catches his attention immediately.

He looks over, a sweet smirk spreading on his face as he rubs your seven months and growing stomach.

"I'm four, dad. Practically grown up." You hum to him before grabbing your iced tea.

"You look just like your father so it's hard not to get all the girls, huh?" You tease as he smiles down to his burger.

John did look like the spitting image of your husband. From freckles to wildy enchanting green eyes, he was so alike.

"Will you tell us how you met again?" Marsh asks as he takes out his phone.

"No phones at dinner." Sam says as he enters the room.

Marsh looks up before rolling his eyes and putting his phone back in the front pocket of his jeans.

"What monster did you kill today?" John asks excitedly as Sam sits down.

Shaking his long hair out of his face, he looks over at both of his parents who refuse to meet his eyes.

"No monster talk at dinner." Sam says and your almost unrecognizable nod lets him know he's right.

John and Marsh frown as Cas comes in to join you all.

"It was a ghoul." Sam whispers as he leans over his plate towards the kids.

You look at Dean, a laugh shared between you both as you both roll your eyes.

Laying down in bed, you let out a gentle sigh as the bed comforts and molds to your body.

"Well now. Look what I have here all to myself. My two favorite girls." Dean says as he closes the bedroom door behind him.

You give a gentle laugh pushing yourself up the pillows as he stalks over.

"Not like you to forget Baby." You say, tilting your head as he pulls his t-shirt off.

"Just don't tell her. She'll get jealous." He teases as he takes off his pants.

Your eyes roam over his body before smiling wider.

When it comes to your husband, exhaustion was not a word that seemed to fit into your vocabulary. He was like a freshly brewed pot of coffee, deep, rich and awakening.

"My lips are sealed." You reply as he kneels on the bed.

With a chuckle, he parts your legs. Running his warm, calloused hands over your bare skin, his lips graze over your bare belly.

You can feel the stubble on his face, the short hairs tickling you as he gives languid kisses to the distended skin.

"De." You whisper in the dim lighting of the room.

He gives a gentle groan at your voice, hearing how you're becoming aroused and sluggish with lust.

"That's it, sweetheart. Focus on how I'm making you feel. How you want daddy's big cock to split you right open." His breath fans over your stomach as he talks to you, producing goosebumps on your now feverish skin.

"I want you so badly." You whine as he pulls down your bra. Your breasts heaving up at the action.

"God, you're so fucking sexy. So fucking mine." He growls out as he kisses over your chest.

"Pretty tits filling up with milk for my baby. Mine." His lips encircle your hard nipple, tongue flicking over the pointed bud earning a sweet moan from you.

His hand reaches for your clothed pussy, dying to feel how wet you already a-

"Dean."

"Hey! Dean!" Shooting up in bed, he looks to the owner of the voice as his eyes widen.

"Hey man…" Sam whispers as he stands above his older brother.

"Dammit Sammy. Couldn't you have given me five more minutes? I was experiencing something great." He mumbles as he grabs the cup of coffee from the younger man's hand.

"Busty girl dreams again? You were moaning." Sam says with a laugh as he walks over to the small table.

Dean clicks his teeth as he looks over the room. He notices how the sun is already rising high in the sky before looking down at you. Your hair is splayed over your face as you take deep shallow breaths.

Was there anything more perfect than his dream? Anything more wonderful than that? You, his wife, his life partner. Pregnant and barefoot in his bunker with other little ones running around. Marsh would still be alive.

Running a rough hand over his face, he sips his coffee before sighing.

As you turn onto your back, he takes in your form.

With your tank top rolled up to your breasts, he sucks in a deep breath before tugging down the shirt. God, you were too skinny now that he's looking at you. Why couldn't you just be pregnant like in his dream? Why did destiny have to fuck him like this?

"God fucking dammit." He mumbles as he wakes up.

"You okay?" Sam asks curiously.

"Peachy." Dean grunts out as he walks to the bathroom.

The slam of the door makes his younger brother jump and you stir from your sleep at the noise. The thin walls shake and tremor with the force of Dean's action and you sit up with squinted eyes.

"Morning." You whisper as you begin to stretch.

"Mornin'." Sam says as his eyes flicker to the bathroom.

"He okay?" You ask as you pull the covers closer to your body.

Sam gives the typical shrug as he sips his coffee before running his hands through his hair.

"Is Dean ever really okay?" He quips as you lay back down.

Now that is a question for the ages.

The morning had gone off without an ounce of weirdness which was odd to you considering how upset Dean was earlier.

He's so good at shoving things down inside of him until he explodes. It's scary sometimes.

"Come on out, Candy girl." Dean calls through the velvet curtain as you try to pull at any piece of fabric that's on your body.

You feel absolutely helpless. The tube dress you're wearing is so infinitely small, you're afraid one cough from yourself will send the fabric into a revealing position.

"It barely covers my ass!" You whine as you fix your hair in the mirror.

"You have a nice ass." Dean comments calmly.

There it is again. The short and somehow completely honest answer from your best friend. He doesn't flirt with you like he does with others because maybe he doesn't have to. He's so himself with you.

Tugging the dress up, the bottom reveals your black thong and you groan gently before pulling it back down.

"No laughing!" You cry out before taking a deep breath.

Just the thought of your older best friend seeing you like this sends your mind reeling.

Pushing back the velvet curtain, Sam looks up from his phone before snorting and covering his mouth with his hand.

"Yes. Ha. Ha. Very funny." You grumble as you put your hands protectively over your body as if that would help.

Glancing at Dean, he doesn't show an ounce of hilarity in the situation. He swallows thickly as his eyes trail over your body.

"You look like a sausage in a casing." Sam says before throwing his head back and laughing.

You snort before turning around to the mirror again.

The black fabric hugs your body tightly, showing your flat stomach and your ample breasts.

It's uncomfortable to be in but your thighs press together as you watch Dean through the mirror.

Licking his lips slowly, his eyes stare at your ass. Your stomach coils and flips as his evergreen eyes begin to harden over.

"Dean. What do you think?" Sam asks through his laughs.

Dean doesn't dignify him with an answer. Your eyes trail over his body, taking in the flannel beneath his jacket before looking to his pants.

His pants are strained and tented and you avert your eyes quickly in the mirror as you think about yesterday morning.

Is it hot in here?

"Dean?" Sam asks as he calms his laughter.

Pressing your thighs tighter together, the muscles of your ass become taut and flex. The oldest brother does everything in his power to rip his eyes away before turning to Sam.

"You look fine. Buy it and let's go." He mumbles as he sits down.

It's when you bend over to grab your stuff that he lolls his head back.

Do you know how fucking sexy you are? Do you have any idea just how goddamn attractive you can be?

Upon bending over he sees your thong and the outline of your pussy lips. His hand flies over Sam's eyes as you gather your stuff.

"Dude." His younger brother mumbles.

"Close the curtain, you idiot." Dean chides you and you gasp gently realizing what you've done.

Fiercely pulling the curtain closed, you can feel your ears and neck heating up to a healthy shade of red.

"I'm going to wait in the car." Dean calls out before storming off.

Sam tilts his head before rolling his eyes.

"Just fuck already." He mumbles under his breath before pulling his phone back out.

Dean stands beneath the shower head, letting the hot water soothe his taut muscles. His forehead presses to the chilly aqua tiles of the motel bathroom

God, you're probably out there in the room putting on that small dress right now.

It's astounding how hard he actually has to try to keep his hands off of you. Would you even want him to touch you?

Yesterday morning, he saw you checking him out. Peeking an eye open, he saw how breathless you were as your eyes roamed his body.

It's been drilled in his head ever since he was younger-- his father always wanted you both to be together. It's always been Dean's 'destiny' to have you as his own. And, that's exactly why he can't do it.

He's always listened to John. Always done as told and for once, he didn't want to abide.

Dean always thought that if he denied himself the pleasure of your company, he could stop a lot of heartache and pain on his end. But, now the heartache is starting to come from having you so far away from him.

He loved you from the minute he saw you. From the minute you met each other in that dingy motel on Christmas Eve.

He loved you when you were dating Michael Bracken during a random highschool stint in Wisconsin.

He always loved you. And, he always denied you.

Smacking his forehead into the wall, he sighs gently.

Maybe destiny is something you just can't run from. God knows that every path him and Sam have ever taken somehow and in some way lead back to the same spot they were standing years ago.

"De?" Your voice breaks him out of his deep thoughts.

"Yeah." He calls back as he shuts off the shower.

"We have to get going soon." You tell him as he grabs his towel.

"Yeah. I'm coming, Princess." The pet name tumbles out of his mouth and he closes his eyes as he wraps the towel around his waist.

You rip the door open and peek your head in before narrowing your eyes at him.

"You know I hate that." You mumble to him as the steam wafts through the open door.

You've hated it since high school. He used to call you Princess when he warded off boys in the cramped hallways. You always found it embarrassing.

Dean gives you a smile as he steps out of the shower, "Come on. You used to love the way I protected you."

Rolling your eyes, you stand up straighter as you lean against the door jamb, "No. You used to love the way you protected me. I didn't need protecting."

He chuckles as he wipes off the bathroom mirror.

"I'll always protect you, whether you need it or not." He says and you hum in agreement before leaving him alone.

"Always." He mumbles before looking through the mirror as you walk away.

Forever Dean Tags: @akshi8278

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean x you #dean x reader #spn family #spn book #spn fam #destiny is heaven sent

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hello-tyler-oakley · 4 years

Note

2,7,29,30,59 :)

2. What would I name my future kids

I love a LOT of names, and I used to hate kids so that could have been a problem haha. Anyways. My girl would have to approve of these of course, but for girls I like Blake, Delaney, Hazel or Karin! For boys, Tanner, Maverick, Tyler, and Christopher. There’s more but those are just the ones I have now!

7. What was your life like last year?

Different that’s for sure! For one thing I could go outside so 😂. But it was good! No worse or better than now! I did lose my pet though which was tough this year, but good other than that. Last year was a big growing year for me!

29. Favorite Films

Harry Potter for SURE. But aside from that very biased opinion, my favorite is The Perks Of Of Being a WallFlower! I relate a lot to The main character Charlie

30. Favorite TV shows

I could go on for DAYS about this one 😂 but here are my top 5:

One Day at a Time,

Orange Is The New Black

Wynonna Earp

FRIENDS (all time fave)

Bates Motel

59. Why I joined tumblr?

I joined in like 2014/15 bc I wanted to follow @tyleroakley on here bc I am a stan (hence the username). I love him and he’s a big reason I feel comfortable being out and proud today! Now it’s a place for me to put all my gay shit 😂

Thanks for the ask!!! Feel free to ask any time 🙏🏻❤️

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hillywooddestiel · 6 years

Text

Stranger Things Have Happened- Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven: Over And Out

Characters: Y/N Winchester, Hopper, Joyce, Nancy, Jonathan, Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Eleven

Warnings: angst

Word count: 1.8k

Series description: Hawkins, Indiana, November 1983. The Winchesters got out of hunting and decided to settle down in a small town. The youngest of the three, Y/N, just wants to get on with her somewhat normal life and go to a good college. But that’s a little tricky when disappearances start occurring, including her friend Barbara Holland, and there’s reports of a mysterious new girl in town. Can she balance boyfriends, teen drama and monster hunting?

A/N: Thought I’d write another chapter, I can’t believe we’re quite so close to the end now. Also I’m about 7 followers away from 500 so I’m trying to think of a celebration. Anyways, enjoy xx Series Masterlist Masterlist

Story:

Hopper floors it to the Byers’s house and I have to cling on to the door handle to avoid flying into Nancy and Jonathan on the bends. Despite the whiplash I probably have from the sudden braking, I get out of the car quickly and speed walk to the front door. Joyce let’s us all in and makes a beeline for Will’s room while Nancy and I take a second to look around the living room. There are Christmas lights strung up everywhere, turned off; the sight is a little depressing really.

“Woah!”

“Yeah…” I agree with Nancy. Tearing our attention away from the premature Christmas decorations, we proceed to Will’s room to search for his walkie talkie. Apparently each of the boys has one and use them to keep in touch all the time.

“I got it!” Joyce exclaims from under the bed, shuffling out and handing it to Nancy. It looks a lot like the kind Sam, Dean and I used on hunts from time to time.

“Mike… Mike it’s me, Nancy… Mike!” She speaks into the device and we all wait in silence for a response. Nothing. Well, nothing but static anyways. “Mike… you there? We need you to pick up. This is an emergency Mike, do you copy? Mike, do you copy?!” Still nothing.

“Maybe they didn’t take one with them.” I offer, not wanting to give up just yet.

“We need an answer. We need to know that you’re there Mike!” Nance just finished her sentence before Hopper takes the radio for himself.

“Listen kid, this is the chief. If you’re there, pick up! We know you’re in trouble and we know about the girl. We can help you, we can protect you, but you gotta pick up! Are you there? Do you copy? Over.” when there’s still no response, he puts down the talkie and turns to us with a sigh. We all feel a bit down; we really thought this would work. “Anybody got any other ideas?”

“Maybe they just don’t want to-”

“Yes, I copy. It’s Mike, I’m here. We’re here.” Mike’s crackling voice cuts me off. Thank God they’re ok!

They tell us where they are so we can come and get them: the old scrap heap at the edge of town inside the school bus. Hopper, being the all-guns-blazing maverick that he is, declares that he’s going alone and we shouldn’t follow him or send help. What an idiot. If by some miracle he makes it to the scrap yard undetected, he has to make it past all of the lab agents with the kids in the car. I’ve fought against people before. Well, they were possessed at the time but agents, demons, same thing.

“I’m coming with you.” I state, hopping into the front passenger seat while the chief sits with a bemused expression.

“No you’re not. Get back inside.”

“Yes, I am. After everything I told you, surely it should be obvious that in more than qualified to do this.” I tell him. To emphasize my point, I pull out my knife from my boot and hold it up ready.

“No! This is too dangerous. Go back inside kid.” he removes the key from the ignition, adamant that we aren’t going anywhere with me in the car.

“Too dangerous?! I have killed monsters before but God forbid I help you pick up some kids! Just drive.” I buckle myself in-I’m coming whether he likes it or not.

“Fine.”

“Why are we parking here? The scrap yard is just around the corner.” I ask as we pull in to a refuge area. Three identical cars zoom past as I’m about to open the door.

“That’s why. C'mon, you said you were gonna help so help.” Hopper exits the car, gun in hand. I follow behind him at a brisk jogging pace through the trees until we come out in the scrap heap. There are men in suits approaching the rusted school bus with guns in their hands. This is insane!

All three of them walk together, not even checking the perimeter (lucky for us) so we creep up behind. I watch my footing on all of the crap that might give us away on the floor until we’re a hop, skip and a jump away from getting them. A mustachioed agent slides open the heavy doors to take a look inside and I’m sure he’s ready to fire his gun at the kids. Hopper leaps ahead and grabs him, knocking him over the head with the butt of his gun.

“Hey!” Another one yells at me as he turns around. I swiftly punch him round the face and take advantage of his dazed moment to yank the gun from his hand. He drops to the floor unconscious when I smack him in the side of the head with it.

“What the?” The last agent barely has the time to be shocked as Hopper takes him out with his fists.

“You good?” He asks me, a mildly impressed smirk on his face.

“Yeah, I handled it.” I tell him. Rolling his eyes, he enters the bus with myself one step behind. The kids look terrified at first but relax a little when they see it’s up. And they’re with that girl minus the blonde hair.

“Alright, let’s go… Let’s go!” They hop to it immediately. Get the kids… check!I

It'sa bit of a squeeze in the back of the car for the four of them to fit but it’s not like we’re going to get pulled over with the chief of the police driving. When we get back to the house, Nancy, Joyce and Jonathan all come rushing outside. While Nance reunites with her brother, I get an unexpected hug from Dustin.

“Thanks for helping save us from the bad men Y/N.”

“Oh, well… you’re welcome I guess.”

“But… how did you know how to punch those guys?” He looks up to me, unhooking his arms and waiting for an answer.

“It's… a long story. Let’s go inside and I’ll explain.”

“Real?”

“Yes. All of them. Well… most of them- just ask me and I’ll probably be able to tell you yes or no.”

“Vampires?” Dustin asks first.

“Yes. But not like you think, they have lots of teeth.” he gulps, eyes wide; whoops probably shouldn’t have said that.

“Ghosts?” Mike follows up.

“Yes. There are lots of different types but they aren’t all dangerous.” That’s a lie. Ghosts come from spirits still trapped on earth, they go crazy and start to hurt people.

“Werewolves?”

“Alright, I think that’s enough for now.” Hopper jumps in before the kids can ask about any more, “The point is she can hunt monsters so we might have a shot at this. The plan is we go to the school and we make this sensory deception-”

“Deprivation.” Dustin corrects him.

“Sensory deprivation tank. We contact Will and Barbara, find out where they are. Then I need to somehow get into that lab and get into the upside down.”

“If you think you’re going to break in there and then go into another dimension without me, you can think again!” I argue, having noticed he said ‘I’.

“Kid, you can’t come with me.” He sighs, rolling his eyes yet again. Sorry for making sure you don’t die!

“Why not? I’ve dealt with the world nearly ending before, I’ve saved my life and the lives of others multiple times. You saw what I did back there, you know I’m more than capable.” I stand from my seat, getting in his face a little. It takes me back to my arguments with dad over him letting me go to school and do dangerous things like make friends. He would get incredibly mad at me for answering back and dump me at Bobby’s until I’d learned my lesson. Or Dean would step in, siding with me that I should be allowed to play outside with the kids from the motel room next door. Sam would be told to take me with him to get dinner and when we came back, Dean would be quietly hiding a fresh bruise or nursing a black eye. And then dad would be all friendly again, calling me his precious little girl and buying me a pretty dress from Goodwill.

“I know that you probably can but you are not risking your life for this. I won’t have it.”

While everyone else packs supplies for heading to the school, Nancy pulls me to one side.

“So… when I told you I saw a guy with no face, you actually believed me…”

“Of course I did! But I couldn’t just come out and say it and I didn’t want you getting hurt so that’s why I told you not to get into it. And then you went to hunt it with Jonathan so I had to make sure you didn’t get killed by that thing.”

“You were there in the woods?” Nancy asks in shock. Ah, didn’t tell her about that did I?

“Yeah.”

“And when you came to break up the fight…”

“Not my first time throwing a punch, no.”

“Wow…” she takes a step back while my guilt washes over me. It’s been awful having to lie to her and Barb all this time but I could never just come out with the truth, could I? I would have been branded a total nutcase and shunned by everyone in school.

“I hate always having to lie but it’s better than scaring people. My brothers barely even talk about that part of our lives anymore and we obviously never expected a monster to show up here.”

“Wait, you didn’t?” Nance looks scared.

“No! Dean picked the place because of the lack of activity. I told them I thought something was going on and they didn’t believe me!” I tell her. Running a hand through my hair, I turn away with tears on the verge of falling. I hate lying. It was always the worst part of the job growing up. The job. I was a kid! I still am a kid. And yet out of everyone involved in this, I am the most prepared for what we’re about to do and that scares me. It scares me because of anyone gets hurt, it’s going to be on me.

“Y/N/N?” Nancy taps on my shoulder, and I jump in shock, “I know it’s a lot, and… you shouldn’t have to do this. But if what you’ve said is true then… I think we need you.”

“I know, I know. Just old memories and stuff. I guess some part of me really did believe that that part of my life was over and now… it’s just becoming real.” she holds out her arms and squeezes me with a hug.

“Nancy, Y/N, let’s go!”

STHH Tags

@marslovesme @bluedefundead @elenavaldez09 @mysanityisgone27 @adridedong @princess-of-erebor1992 @coffeeandwinchesters

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bodhixcrimson · 5 years

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The Crimson parents were back in town, in fact they’d broken the back window and let themselves in. Bodhi woke up to the sound of Lark yelling, which wasn’t necessary uncommon considering Van was always causing some kind of trouble. But Bodhi even in his sleepy haze could clearly see that his youngest brother was passed out in Gryff’s bed. Which made the next question, who the hell was Lark screaming at? And usually there was only one answer after Van, and that was their parents. Bodhi took no longer than two seconds, throwing his covers back and running out of his bedroom. Even at this hour of the morning the middle Crimson was quick to defend his good for nothing mother and father. Grabbing a shirt on his way through the cluttered hallway, he pulled it over his head as he ran down the stairs and into the kitchen. Upon entering the heart of their home, he could instantly see the shattered glass over the floor, and his parents stood defensively against the back door, while Lark and Clove stood a meter away from them on the attack.

The second Clove and Finley saw Bodhi they stepped in his way, his sisters gently pushing on his chest, trying to get him to move away from the situation at hand. “Not this time Bodhi, you need to let Lark deal with this” Finley reasoned, all but begging Bodhi to back down. “Stop defending two people that have never cared about you” Clove added, a single hand pressed on the center of Bodhi’s chest, praying it would get him to move backwards out of the kitchen. But the two sisters had tried every method by this point, and neither was confident they were ever gonna find a way to reason with their naive brother. So as Bodhi pushed right through the middle of them, they had to let him go, he had to make his own mistakes. The hardest part? The most painful sting? Was the fact he made the mistakes, over and over again, and he never learnt anything from them.

As Bodhi shoved right past Lark, the eldest brother took a step away. He and Bodhi had many a heated argument from situation such as this, and honestly Lark was tired. He was sick of fighting with his little brother, fighting for his little brother. Trying to protect a man that obviously didn’t want protecting, that kept falling into the same trap he’d gotten eaten alive by two months before. Lark couldn’t keep battling with Bodhi on this topic, because it never resulted in anything. Lark moved away and out of the room, but Clove wasn’t known to back down so quickly. “Leave it Clove! They’re not hurting anyone, they’re our parents” Bodhi attempted to settle his sister and find some harmony. “No Bodhi you’re right, they’re not hurting anyone. They just hurt you when they ran over you, or Sunny when they stole all her art supplies and sold them so dad could get a fix. They just broke our window, and stole the last six tv’s we’ve owned. Trashed Lark’s motorcycle, threw me down the stairs at fourteen, took Gryff back at 7 and left him 3 miles out of town when they changed their minds, almost let Van drown because they weren’t watching, or even tried to sell Finley at 10, to clear a drug debt. But you’re right dear little brother, they’re not hurting anyone.”Clove huffed, waving a dismissive hand before taking her own leave.

And for a moment, her speech almost work, for a moment Bodhi paused and wondered exactly who it was he was defending. Why he was protecting them. But then a soft hand curled over his shoulder and gave a soft squeeze, pulling him to turn around. The soft eyes of his mother staring back at him, her expression almost pained by the words she’d just heard. As if she was heartbroken just knowing the mistakes they’d made in the past. “I’m so sorry son, for everything we’ve ever done to you. To all our children. We’ve made mistakes, we’ll be the first to admit that, but there isn’t a day that goes by where we don’t think about each and every one of you and miss you dearly, especially you darling” she said, voice as sweet as honey, as she pulled Bodhi into a hug. A hug was all he had wanted as a child, for his mother to just hold him and say she was sorry, to say she wanted to be better. And in that moment he forgave them all over again, he believed them again, and maybe this time was different. Maybe they wouldn’t leave.

Bodhi, Maverick and Olive had soon after left the house and gone to a motel in town, where Bodhi had paid for three nights stay for his parents. He’d brought them lunch and then dinner, filled up their car with gas, as well as giving some cash for his dad’s ‘medicine’. “I have to go now, it’s Friday, Natalie and I do movie night on Friday” Bodhi told his parents, collecting his things and preparing to leave. He’d never missed a movie night with her, and didn’t intend to start now. “Wait what, I thought we were going out for drinks, come try and beat your old man at darts. I’ve gotten better since the last time we played” his father said. “We’ve never played darts before dad” Bodhi commented, wondering where he even got that idea from, not even considering the fact his parents were full shit all the time. Like the fact they never called him by his name, because they didn’t know it. Or they made fake memories to form a quick connection to drain Bodhi of his money. “I can’t come out for drinks, I gotta go” “So now your friends are more important than your own parents? I thought you said you forgave us sweetie. I thought we’d gotten past everything that happened in the past. Clearly you’re still mad, that’s why you’re leaving, what else can we possibly do to make you believe we want to be better.” his mother spun a good story, attempting to make Bodhi feel guilty, as if he were the one doing something wrong.

“I do forgive you, and I do believe you want to be better. And I want to come out for drinks-” “So come” “but I want to see Natalie. I want to watch a crappy movie and eat bad food, and feel really awkward with her extroverted roommates. I’m not gonna let her down, i’m not gonna choose you over her” it was probably the most forward Bodhi had ever been with his parents, and in fact he’d never chose anything over spending time with them. But Natalie had been better to him in the time he’d known her, than his parents had been his entire life. And he refused to choose anyone over her, least of all his parents. “I’m sorry, but it matters a lot to me. Movie nights are my favourite part of every week, seeing her.......it makes me happy. And maybe missing one movie night wouldn’t matter that much, but I won’t be finding out tonight.” he pulled his backpack on, hugged his mother and father and headed for the door. “You guys enjoy your night, i’ll drop by tomorrow” he said as he exited the room, and left towards Natalie’s apartment complex. His parents wouldn’t be there tomorrow, and under different circumstances he’d be upset he missed that last bit of time with them. But if it was time he instead spent of Natalie doing something as simple as movie night, he wouldn’t be upset at all.

#i don't know what this has become #but it became something #i had writing muse #crap that got long

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reddustdiary-blog · 5 years

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Here we go...the Red Dust Diary begins.

I’ve never considered myself to be overly ambitious. Definitely not very brave. I have always had quite simple and humble aspirations for my life. Family, friends, happiness. Some art for my walls. I’ve never wanted my name in lights or a mansion as my address. Maybe one day I’d like to have two bathrooms and enough space to go out to the clothesline naked without scaring my neighbours, but otherwise I’m not too extravagant! So this change in our lives seems rather left field. Who knew one day I’d uproot our lives and leave everyone and everything I’ve ever known to chase work? I’m a teacher by trade, graduating back in 2010, but I never like to call myself one. It seems a bit fraudulent to call myself a teacher because I got my degree and not long after decided I wanted a baby of my own, so we welcomed our little Maverick. Then with almost uncanny precision we added his brothers Marshall and Murray to the mix at 2 year intervals after that. With three little boys under the age of 5, I was content. I loved my life as a stay at home Mum, and I’ve always felt so grateful I had that opportunity. But until some relief work in 2018, I had never worked as a teacher in a paid capacity, and the concept of starting now was enough to make me break out in hives! Every year that passed made teaching seem farther away, and I started to wonder how and when I’d ever do it. Being a stay at home mum was hard some times, but starting a career after years at home was downright frightening. So here we are in 2019 and my family of five are moving from the safe and familiar Sunny Coast and heading for the red dust and hot winds of Julia Creek in Outback North Queensland. Nearly 18 driving hours away from every address I’ve ever had. Talk about jumping in head first. I’ll be the Kindy teacher there this year, and my husband is a Linesman, so together we both managed to secure jobs in this little town of just over 500 people. And I’m excited to teach, excited to actually do it after years of wondering how I ever would, and excited to do it in a place that is unlike anything else I’ve ever known. It’s an adventure to be sure, even if it’s a bit terrifying at the same time! I hope I don’t stuff it up! Leaving was a hard decision though. Oh how we laboured over the decision! Should we stay, should we go? What about the boys? Would they be okay? Would we all be able to make friends? Would our hearts manage to not shatter into a million pieces to leave all our loved ones behind? Would they forget us if we left for a few years? Would time and distance erase us from their lives? Man, I really hope not. I am still haunted by insecurities about all of these things. Leaving was so brutal, goodbyes tortured me into wanting to hide under my covers and just pretend it was all just a crazy dream, not our reality. Even when I stood in our empty house, our first family home, I couldn’t quite believe we were doing this. Like holy shit, are we actually DOING this? Really?! Now as I sit in a Motel in Rockhampton, our first stop in our big move, I’m still in disbelief that we have left. It’s surreal on every level. It’s funny the things that are bringing me comfort though as we make this huge change. My travel mug in my hands. The ridiculous indoor plants I refused to leave behind that I’m trying to keep alive wrapped in wet newspaper. My irritating as hell cat who purrs like a tractor and hates to travel. My three year old who waits until we go out to poo (like really? You couldn’t have done that at home mate?). Kit Kat Gold chocolate. Some things don’t change even when your postcode does. Well the chocolate will change because I doubt they stock it where I’m going, so I better enjoy it now! The truth is it’s not just work we are chasing out there in the hot sun and red dust. It’s adventure, the chance to try something new, to test ourselves, to experience something big and exciting as a family before our kids are too old to live in tiny places without a high school. It’s the chance to, for the first time, make smarter career choices for me. To finally acknowledge that the right path isn’t always the safe one, and that sometimes playing it safe is too dangerous to do any longer. I am so lucky my husband is so keen for this wild ride too, and so eager to give me my time in the sun (a really, REALLY hot sun!) because there is no way I’d be brave enough to do this crazy change without him. He has always been the daring and spontaneous one, while I just try desperately not to die. I usually just cry and hold on tight to him as we jump into whatever madness he’s jumping into! This time we are holding hands as we jump, while our three boys climb all over us and run rings around us, and generally make things louder and crazier and way more beautiful. So here we go. Julia Creek beckons - in two more days our new town will be there to welcome us, the prickles probably poking through our thongs and the sun scorching through my clothes adding some instant freckles to skin that belongs in Scotland or Ireland (somewhere it rains most of the time) not the outback. And while I’m scared beyond belief, a funny bubbling excitement keeps nipping at the heels of my fear, and like a new puppy it won’t go away. Here’s hoping that excitement stays when I’m confronted with my mustard coloured house that has no grass. Eliza x

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margarittet · 6 years

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“Tombstone” (1993): cowboys and gay subtext

Disclaimer: I wrote this text long time ago, when we first heard the title of the episode, and we knew perfectly nothing about the plot - I just somehow never got to posting it. Back then I never DREAMED that we will be getting Cas and Dean roleplaying Texas rangers, and running around in cowboy hats. (What a time to be alive!) Anyway, I hope this little rant about how “Tombstone” (1993) is relevant to tomorrow’s episode will still be fun to read.

Disclaimer 2: I do not equal effeminate/weak bodied/flamboyant = gay, just different from the surroundings in the context of this movie. At the same time, the movie uses cheap stereotypes to characterize their characters in subtext. It is 1990s, and this is not good, but it happened back then.

File it under the “Things I do because of my “Supernatural” obsession”: I watch and read stuff I hadn’t expected to before I started watching the show - you know, like a 1993 western telling the story of the legendary gunman Wyatt Earp and his two brothers, hunting and killing some Old West gang of outlaws in a frontier town.

Nevertheless, I did watch it, and now I will write about it because I am painfully aware that episode 13x06 is called “Tombstone”, that it has a western theme, and that it’s an episode by the writer who gave us “Stuck in the Middle with You” (12x12). It is therefore quite possible that the source material is relevant to the final product - plus with Tarantino being a western buff, it all connects nicely.

I will not speculate about the actual episode since we have almost nothing to go on at the moment - besides a few pictures from which we can gather a couple of facts:

The boys are most probably in Dodge City at some point (we saw pictures from the set saying “Dodge City” on one of the buildings). The city is about 3,5 hour drive from Lebanon - where the bunker is - and it was here Wyatt Earp was the sheriff before he moved to Tombstone. It also is “the cowboy capital of the US” because of it being the main city on the old “cattle trail”, famous for its cow markets and for its gunfights. We saw Dodge City on the show once before when Krissy’s dad was attacked in “Adventures in Babysitting”, but otherwise this is the first time we visit it,

We also know that at some point we will visit a cowboy-themed motel.

[While all of this gives us no story hints whatsoever, I think it’s safe to assume that the keywords for the episode are “cowboys” and “western”. Since Davy Perez’ most noteworthy episode last year was Tarantino themed, I am not remotely surprised this season for him is “westerns” (he is also bringing us the train heist episode later this season - yes, please.)]

I can, however, present the movie “Tombstone” that may or may not have something to do with the final episode (we’ll see). As I am aware that not everyone is as dedicated (read: bored and obsessed) as me to check out every pop culture reference on the show, I decided to share my newly aquired wisdom with the class.

Ok, so the story. The movie tells a (rather idealized) version of the shootout that occured in the frontier town of Tombstone, Arizona, between Wyatt, Virgil and Morgan Earp (plus their friend, Doc Holliday) and the gang of outlaws who called themselves “the Cowboys” - known as the gunfight at OK Corral. I will talk just about the movie here (since the historical truth is a little different, and a compare-and-contrast historical analysis is not what we need right now).

So, Wyatt Earp got famous being the marshall of Dodge City, while also being a pacifist and trying to avoid starting conflicts as much as possible. Tombstone was supposed to be his retirement - he wanted to settle down, finally having his family around, and earn some money for a comfortable and silent life. He came to Tombstone together with his two brothers and their wives; upon arrival, he found out that his best friend, Doc Holliday, also ended up in the town, searching for his luck and trying to cure his TB - an illness that will later kill him at the age of 35.

We meet Wyatt Earp when he has people closest to his heart right around him, and is very content with his life. He is also very adamant to leave the past and the fame behind, and start a completely new chapter in Arizona. The Earp brothers find out very quickly, however, that Tombstone is very far from the sleepy abode the name might suggest. The town is full of colourful characters - gamblers, gunslingers, preachers, prostitutes, outlaws etc. And of course there is a conflict boiling just below the surface.

Unwillingly, one by one the Earp party is pulled back into being the law officers again, and into the bloody frontier war.

SPOILERS AHEAD (you know, if you wanna watch the movie yourself)

So many themes here that remind me of SPN!

We have a duty bound man who meets a maverick and outgoing woman. She offers him excitement and adventures, and of course he falls for her, but doesn’t let himself have what he wants because of his mission, his situation (he was married at the time), and the need to act honourably. He is, however, perfectly aware of his feelings and that a part of this behaviour is fear of following his heart because he had never done this before in his life;

It takes a death of his closest friend to realize life is too short, and he should go for what he wants, which he does;

Before this, however, he follows the murder of one of his brothers by going on a shooting spree, and killing every bad guy he can find until they all are eradicated,

There is also so much gay subtext between two of the characters that the movie is always mentioned when “gay westerns before Brokeback Mountain” are discussed.

“Tombstone” as a lesson in gay subtext:

It is never mentioned in the movie that Billy Zane and Jason Priestley’s characters are gay. Yet, it is so obvious from the way they are portrayed that even people who are not used to reading subtext are perfectly aware the two characters are most probably lovers.

The characterization

The first thing we notice is the look of the characters. The two man are both dressed in a way that differenciates them from the enviroment around them - Billy Zane’s Fabian is completely different from the masculine world of the Old West, with his soft hair, boyish good looks, clean shaven face, and elaborate outfits.

Jason Priestley’s Billy is more in accordance with the tough world of Tombstone - he is the deputy sheriff after all, and can be tough when needed - but still, in his time off he is portrayed as soft, effeminate, especially while contrasted with the criminals he usually runs with. His outfit is not too different from everyone else’s, but he is the only person to wear a bowtie (everyone else wears neckties or bandanas) and spectacles. He is portrayed as a slightly weaker and more vulnerable person.

Exposition in relation to other characters

The two characters sexuality is shown, not talked about, especially through the kind of interractions they have with other people.

We meet Fabian when he steps out of a carriage, all confident, flamboyant, well-groomed and witty. His person awakens the reaction in the manly-men of the West, which is shown by Morgan Earp asking the local sheriff “What kind of town is this?” (at which point Wyatt shushes him, as if he said something offensive).

To hammer the point home, Fabian is an actor who travels with a gorgeous woman, but obviously has no sexual interest in her - they are best buddies who ogle the Earps together, and comment on their attractiveness.

As for Billy, we meet him when he arrives at the theatre to see the actors’ performance, and right away he is shown bullied by the Cowboys. The quips obviously refer to his sexuality (“Hey, sister boy, gimme some!”). He doesn’t try to shoot them down, just tries to avoid being touched. Quickly he is “saved” by the leader of the gang, and seated beside him. Shortly afterwards the camera shows us the difference between the Cowboys and the deputy sheriff’s approach to Fabian onstage (mocking vs in awe).

Later, during a blink-and-you-miss-it moment, Billy grabs Fabian in the saloon, and cordially invites him to his table. This is the last time we see the two men together, alive.

Fast forward to the end of the movie: Billy is riding around with the Cowboys while Wyatt Earp runs around, shooting everything he can find. The outlaws stop a carriage and find the actress and Fabian in the back: the actor is dead, shot by the Cowboys. Everything here happens completely beside the dialogue and the rest of the scene. Billy watches dead Fabian while the actress holds her dead friend, and angrily discusses the war with the leader of the gang.

(Just for your viewing pleasure, I created THIS GIFSET of the scene)

It is never said out loud that Bily and Fabian are lovers. It is still pretty damn obvious. It is perfectly clear from the way they are presented, their interactions with other characters, and the (very limited) onscreen interactions with each other.

“Tombstone” is a cowboy movie that takes a step towards the actual reality of the Wild West, and makes it almost textual. Homosexuality was a natural part of the cowboy lifestyle - it was after all a society full of men, where the men to women ratio was around 8:1. Everyone had needs, not everyone had money, and love and sexual encounters between men were as common as in any other, similar enviroment. There is a reason why the uber-masculine cowboy stereotype is one of the main figures in American gay iconology - think everything from “Midnight Cowboy” to The Village People and “Brokeback Mountain”.

Why Davy Perez chose to call his episode after the kettle-market town in Arizona, but also after the movie with such a strong gay subtext?

WE MAY NEVER KNOW!

#spn vs tombstone #spn 13x06 speculation #pop culture references #gay subtext #destiel #spn season western romcom 13 #yeehaw

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affikki1028 · 3 years

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The Advantages and Disadvantages of Dry Camping

New Post has been published on http://www.webshophost.xyz/the-advantages-and-disadvantages-of-dry-camping/

The Advantages and Disadvantages of Dry Camping

One of the key advantages of RV travel is that all it takes to technically start camping is to throw the motorhome or tow vehicle into “Park.” With most vehicles being highly self-sufficient – even away from the power grid and water hookups of your average campground – any stretch of land can become an impromptu campsite for the night. A secluded spot next to a stream. An empty field or a deserted parking lot. Yes, even Aunt Edna’s driveway, if you’re so inclined.

Such features as an onboard generator and/or inverter, LP tank(s), fresh water supply, and holding tanks make such a reality possible. That is, assuming you know what you’re doing. Surely, the temptation to dry camp or boondock, where travelers camp in one way or another away from standard campsites and hookups, appeals to the gypsy spirit in many of us at some point and time. And there are other reasons, too.

Me, Myself, and I A sense of community is always nice, but sometimes being thrown into the mix at the local campground isn’t exactly what you’re looking for. Larger campgrounds may swell to thousands of campers on a busy weekend; poorly laid out parks stack RVs one right on top of each other. Where did all these people come from? While no one can deny the benefits of full hookups, hot showers, game room, and mini-mart, frankly, established campgrounds are not for everybody. Even the five-star RV resorts that do everything from back in your RV to massage your feet might sometimes miss the point. You want to get away from it all, and that means blazing your own trail. Setting up the travel trailer at the secluded fishing hole. Maneuvering the motorhome through the deepest reaches of the dense forest until you find the perfect spot. Ah, now that’s more like it. No sounds of idling diesels next-door, no kids playing Frisbee through your campsite. Just you, your crew, and nature. Isn’t this the way it was supposed to be?

Location, Location, Location An RV trip isn’t always to popular destinations, where campsites are plentiful. Some folks, who take the second-home concept seriously, choose to set up their rig for an extended stay in a place where an established campground might not be found. For example, that fold-down camper of yours might work admirably in grandma’s backyard during your lengthy visit. Best of all, the grandkids are nice and close. Or perhaps it’s the part-time job that’s got you working at the Christmas tree lot, volunteering at that State Park, or selling your wares at a regional art show that requires on-site living sans hookups? Patient’s families have been known to “camp out” at the hospital, in order to be close to a loved one during a time of crisis. Furthermore, those whose hobbies take them far off the highways – such as motor sports enthusiasts, rock climbers, or boaters – often won’t find better nightly accommodations than their RVs. Different situations call for different accommodations, and your RV is ready for any of it.

Drastic Times Call for… The couple was absolutely dumbfounded by the no vacancy signs up and down Pennsylvania’s Interstate-80. They looked everywhere, by the end of the night just hoping for any campsite, anywhere. Unfortunately, it was fall foliage season and every single place was booked. Sound familiar? It’s getting late and everyone’s exhausted? Somebody forgot to make the reservations and things are looking a little grim. Any RV maverick who heads for a prime tourist spot in-season knows full well how quickly campgrounds can fill up, often forcing a decision of where to beach the rig for the night. Truth is, sometimes boondocking is a necessity – even if you don’t particularly like the idea of bunking down in a Wal-Mart parking lot or deserted field. If you’re not going to be a stickler about making reservations, it’s best to work out dry camping skills in advance – before you have to use them.

Money Woes Compared to even a moderately priced motel, most RV parks, campgrounds – even plush RV resorts – are terrific deals. A night spent at a state or national park is cheaper still, bolstered by the kinds of bedazzling views one won’t find just any old place. However, there are those of the RVing sect who say hooey to the whole notion of paying to camp. After all, they already ponied up $100,000 for the motorhome, which is the premier full-time camping machine. By their thinking, every night spent parked in the woods or at a friend’s house or catching zzz’s at the truck stop is money in the bank. Of course, campground owners don’t much like this free-wheelin’ philosophy, but you can’t beat the price of a night of dry camping.

The Can-Do Spirit Many RVers started as tent campers, so we’re used to the idea of roughin’ it. And just because we made the transformation from soggy sleeping bag to comfy digs doesn’t mean we no longer embrace – or at least pine for – the pioneering spirit. Many of us still cuddle our inner explorer and we get a thunderous sense of pride from camping out where few motorhome tires have tread before. We’re talking about a spot so rustic that not even the pricey satellite dish works. Generating your own power, carrying your own water, feasting on fresh trout or a pantry full of canned goods is a sure-fire way to restore one’s swagger – regardless if it’s in a $5,000 truck camper or $500,000 diesel-pusher. Free camping can be found throughout many of the million acres governed of the Bureau of Land Management and National Wildlife Refugees.

Before You Go… However, contrary to popular belief, the world is not your oyster. One cannot simply park their vehicle anywhere they please and throw out the welcome mat. There are laws to consider, etiquette to follow, and safety concerns to factor. Furthermore, different RVs offer different capabilities as far as boondocking is concerned. Many smaller towables lack the ability to generate their own power, lacking an onboard generator, inverter, or even solar power applications. Smaller fresh water tanks will limit the duration of the trip – and length of shower, for that matter – of any off-roading adventure. Is your RV up to the challenge? Are you? Here’s a few things to consider before camping without a net.

Safety First The problem with camping in Parts Unknown is just that – you just don’t know. Is it safe or not? While every campground isn’t necessarily Fort Knox, the reputable ones are well-lit, fenced-in, and offer the safety-in-numbers reassurance you won’t get bunking at the truck stop or deepest, darkest woods. For me, every snap of a tree branch sends me into a deep, paranoid panic when parked in isolation. For others, it’s all part of the natural experience. Still, one must never compromise the safety factor. If it’s just a matter of spending the night before moving on in the morning, gravitate towards spots that are well-lit, fairly busy, and ideally located near the communal bond of another RV or two. Parked under a streetlight might not make for the best night’s sleep you’ve ever had, but it does provide some assurances of safety. Moreover, make sure doors and windows are locked, possession brought inside for the night, and you know where the keys are in the case of a much-needed quick getaway. That, and a Louisville Slugger in case things ever get, ahem, interesting.

Legal Matters While Wal-Mart has made it well-known how much they just love harboring RVers for the night, many potential landlords aren’t so giving. Nor are some towns, which feel squatters may not be the best thing for the community – or the local businesses that profit from overnight guests. The fact is the land you’re looking to camp on – be it in the back of a mall lot or next to a woodland stream – belongs to somebody. And that somebody probably isn’t you. At the very least, one should always try to get the owner’s okay before activating the slide-out and sending up the TV antennae for the big game. Otherwise, that tapping you hear on the side of the window at 4 a.m. might just be Officer Friendly looking to point you back on the highway. As a rule of etiquette, it’s always nice to support a business that has allowed you to camp over for the night.

Is Your Rig Worthy? The axiom is painful yet true: The smaller the RV, the less stuff it’s got. Smaller fresh water tanks mean less aqua for drinking and washing, while minuscule holding tanks dictate fewer days spent in the wild before needing to purge. Keep this in mind before scheduling a two-week odyssey far away from civilization. As we mentioned, your vehicle may or may not have means to create electricity onboard, forcing owners to invest in a portable generator or inverter to do the work. On the flip side, a smaller unit is better when it comes to maneuvering you and your crew to more reclusive places. A camper van or truck camper is a superior off-road machine, capable of squeezing through the tight passages that a 40′ motorhome or 60′ worth of trailer and tow vehicle can only dream about. In short, don’t write checks your RV can’t cash. Know and respect your RV’s limits, and plan accordingly. Moreover, what is the condition of the RV? Is everything working okay? Better be sure before you find yourself 20 miles away from a paved road with a flat tire or a dead battery. As you would before any trip, fully inspect the unit and stay on top of any preventative maintenance and routine service.

Ready, Set, Camp Even if you never intend to spend one single, solitary moment camping away from full hookups and the predictable fun of a campground, it’s still a good idea to at least know how what your RV is capable of – just in case. The best advice is to test your dry-camping skills in a safe environment. The smartest way is to get a no-hookup campsite (or get full hookups and don’t use them the first night or two) to see how you do. Or just try things out in the driveway. You’ll learn all-too-quickly you and your RV’s learning curve. How fast does your family go through water? How much LP do you need for a weekend or more? How adept are you at cooking over a campfire if the LP gas runs out? How much can your generator handle at one time – or how good are you at conserving electricity? Ah, yes, conservation, the backbone of the dry camping experience. Here’s some ways to get the most out of less.

Restore Power If you run out of electricity, you run out of a lot. Fortunately, there are ways to keep that from happening, namely through the use of a generator or inverter to keep the batteries surging. Portable models aren’t cheap, but are available to prolong your stays in the great outdoors. Otherwise, you’ll need to adopt a highly disciplined approach to squeeze every bit of juice out of your batteries. Turn off all unnecessary lights and appliances when not in use. A few guilty parities are the water pump, electric step, or exterior lights, which all subtly eat up the amps. Forgo the blow dryer and air conditioner, which are big electricity-users. Park in the shade, on hot days, to keep the refrigerator from overworking, but still keeping things cool onboard. Don’t keep playing with the slide-outs or spend the whole afternoon watching TV. Keep an eye on that monitor panel. You don’t want the batteries to drain to zero. Remember: In a pinch, a decent-length drive can partially recharge your coach battery when readings begin to wane.

Water World Not everyone has a 100-gallon water tank. For everyone who doesn’t, it’s time to conserve, considering that water is critical for cooking, cleaning, and hydrating the crew. How else are you going to make Kool-Aid? Thankfully, fresh water is pretty easy to maintain and re-supply if you should run out (Quick Mart, anyone?) Still, shorter showers (remember the in-and-out style of the “Navy” shower) and minimizing hand washing (use hand sanitizers when possible) should maintain water levels. Don’t leave the water on when brushing teeth or washing dishes, either. If there are facilities nearby for showering and such, use them. And just think – the less water you use, the less goes into the holding tanks. It’s a win-win. A final thought: Just because no one may be able to see you doesn’t give you the right to dump the tanks during your boondocking adventures. We’re on our best behavior, right? Fifty gallons worth of spewing gray and black water is no way to repay someone for using his or her property.

Pro-Propane LP gas is a pretty hardy resource, meaning it’s tough to run out if you have any decent-size tanks. However, our conservative approach should still be employed here as well. The best way to stretch the propane supply is to cook outdoors. A campfire is still the most fun and flavorful way to prepare a meal, a method that simply can’t be replicated in the RV’s oven no matter how you try. Snuffing out pilot light’s when not in use will stretch your supply even further. Otherwise, go easy on the furnace and water heater.

Provisions Overloading the RV is a bad thing. Running out of Mac N’ Cheese 30 miles from the nearest town isn’t too good, either. Dry-campers must walk the line between loading up and overloading, which is hopefully something that comes with experience. Spare canned goods, firewood, and portable cooking devices can go a long way when roughin’ it – provided they don’t tilt your vehicle into the overweight condition. If boondocking plans simply call for a night here and a night there, you probably won’t run out of food or supplies. However, if the campout is of the epic variety, be realistic about how much of everything you might need and how easy it will be to get more. Bring extra food and water, if need be, since a hungry group quickly falls into mutiny mode. A few other possible items to include: portable grill/cooking grate, charcoal, fishing poles and tackle box, extra blankets, alkaline batteries, cell phone, first aid kit, tool kits, hatchet/saw, manual can opener, cooking tools, and bug spray. And don’t head into the woods with the fuel tank on “E.” Chances are your generator will munch on some of the fuel and dry camping is no time to run out of gas.

portable inverter generator #Advantages #Disadvantages #Dry #Camping

#Articles

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tom-etseg · 4 years

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recodr collection secret shush

101 Strings - Songs of the Seasons in Japan

Adrian Belew - Lone Rhino

Adrian Belew - Twang Bar King

Adrian Belew - Mr. Music Head

Adrian Belew - Young Lions

The Best of Alfred Apaka

Allan Holdsworth - Velvet Darkness

A. Summers & R. Fripp - I Advance Masked

Anything Goes

Ayalew Mesfin - Hasabe/My Worries

Black Sabbath - Heaven and Hell

Black Sabbath - Mob Rules

The Black Watch - Highland Pageantry

Bruford - One of a Kind

Bud Tutmarc - Simply Beautiful

Cpt. Beefheart - Unconditionally Guranteed

Cpt. Beefheart - Bluejeans and Moonbeams

The Cars - Candy-O

Chet Atkins - Music From Nashville

Chet Atkins - Lover's Guitar

David Bowie - Ziggy Stardust

David Fanshawe - African Sanctus

Death Grips - Government Plates

Death Grips - The Powers That B

Dio - Dream Evil

Dean Martin - You Can't Love 'em All

The Dungills - Africa Calling

D. Zappa - My Guitar Wants to Kill Your Mama

Music of Edgard Varèse

Music of Edgard Varèse vol. 2

Edward Macdowell - Indian Suite

ELP - ELP

ELP - Tarkus

ELP - Trilogy

ELP - Brain Salad Surgery

ELP - Works

Eric Dolphy - Out There

Erik Satie - Piano Music vol. 3

Erroll Garner - Magician

Frank Zappa - Freak Out!

Frank Zappa - Absolutely Free

Frank Zappa - Lumpy Gravy

Frank Zappa - WOIIFTM

Frank Zappa - Uncle Meat

Frank Zappa - Hot Rats

Frank Zappa - Burnt Weeny Sandwich

Frank Zappa - 200 Motels

Frank Zappa - One Size Fits All

Frank Zappa - Overnite Sensation

Frank Zappa - Apostrophe

Frank Zappa - Roxy & Elsewhere

Frank Zappa - Zoot Allures

Frank Zappa - Sheik Yerbouti

Frank Zappa - Orchestral Favorites

Frank Zappa - Shut Up 'n Play Yer Guitar

Frank Zappa - Drowning Witch

Frank Zappa - The Man From Utopia

Frank Zappa - LSO Vol.1

Frank Zappa - Them or Us

Frank Zappa - Mothers of Prevention

Frank Zappa - Jazz From Hell

Zappa Movie Soundtrack

GSOL - Gamelan in the New World

Gentle Giant - Acquiring the Taste

Gentle Giant - Three Friends

Gentle Giant - Octopus

Gentle Giant - The Power and the Glory

Gentle Giant - Free Hand

Gentle Giant - Interview

Gentle Giant - Civilian

George Benson - Weekend in L.A.

George Duke - Don't Let Go

George Duke - Dream On

George Thorogood - Maverick

The Great Country Singers

Hamilton Face Band

Hank Williams Jr. - Greatest Hits

Harry Enfield - Loadsamoney

Hollow Knight Soundtrack

Hounds - Puttin on the Dog

Igor Stravinsky - The Firebird

Igor Stravinsky - The Rite of Spring

Janis Ian

Jean Luc Ponty - King Kong

Jean Luc Ponty - Aurora

Jean Luc Ponty - Imaginary Voyage

Jean Luc Ponty - Enigmatic Ocean

Jerry Byrd - On the Shores of Waikiki

Jerry Reed - When You're Hot, You're Hot

Jerry Reed - Eastbound and Down

Jethro Tull - Aqualung

John Denver - Spirit

John Denver - The Windstar Greatest Hits

King Crimson - ITCOTKC

King Crimson - Lizard

King Crimson - Larks' Tongues in Aspic

King Crimson - Starless and Bible Black

King Crimson - Red

King Crimson - Discipline

King Crimson - Beat

King Crimson - Three of a Perfect Pair

Kiss - Hotter Than Hell

Kiss - Dressed to Kill

Kiss - Alive

Kiss - Destroyer

Kiss - Kissworld

Laura Nyro - More Than a New Discovery

Laura Nyro - Eli and the 13th Confessional

Laurie Anderson - Mister Heartbreak

Theme from Lawrence of Arabia

Lynyrd Skynyrd - (?)

Neneh Cherry - Buffalo Stance

Nicolai Rimsky Korsakov - Scheherazade

Mantovani - Gypsy Soul

Martin Denny - Hawaii

Marty Robbins - Gunfighter Ballads

Maurice Ravel - Bolero

Max Webster - High Class in Borrowed Shoes

Moondog

Mr. Bungle

Music From Many Lands

Pantera - Metal Magic

Pantera - History of Hostility

Pepe Kalle & Nyomba - Moyibi

Persuasions - We Came to Play

Persuasions - IJWTSWMF

Los Pinguinos - at El Shrimp Bucket

Polynesia

Primus - The Brown Album

Prince - Purple Rain

Psychonauts Soundtrack

Quena

Rainbow - Ritchie Blackmore's Rainbow

Rainbow - Long Live Rock 'n' Roll

The Rising of the Moon

Robert Fripp - Exposure

Robert Fripp - The League of Gentlemen

Rush - Hemispheres

Rush - 2112

Sanford & Son

Simons - Best24

Slint - Spiderland

Soviet Army Chorus & Band

Sparks - No.1 in Heaven

Split Enz - Waiata

Stanley Black - Russia

Steely Dan - Pretzel Logic

Street Fighter III: The Collection

Sun Ra - Jazz in Silhouette

System of a Down - Toxicity

They Might Be Giants - Flood

Tihati - Savage

Les Troubadours du Roi Baudouin - Missa Luba

Van Halen - Diver Down

Vib Ribbon Soundtrack

Weather Report - Heavy Weather

Weather Report - Mr. Gone

Weather Report - 8:30

Weather Report - Sportin Life

Yes - The Yes Album

Yes - Fragile

Yes - Close to the Edge

Yes - 90125

The Young and the Restless

#hr57

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godlessgeekblog · 5 years

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Stunning hotels to stop at on one of the world’s finest road trips along the Pacific Coast Highway

Driving down the Californian coast is one of the world’s greatest road trips and features high on the must-do lists of thousands of Britons.

But don’t wreck your dream drive along the Pacific Coast Highway by staying in dreary motels.

Instead, take a look at our essential guide to the hidden-away accommodation gems that will make your trip memorable for all the right reasons.

1. Pearl Hotel, Point Loma

At The Pearl in Point Loma the 1960s pool is still there and rooms have a cool, retro vibe

Tell me more: In 2007, this classic 23-room motel behind Point Loma’s sleepy marina received a snazzy but sympathetic makeover. The 1960s pool is still here, as are the cool Cadillac-style wings either side of the main entrance. Rooms have a 1960s vibe, with G-plan furniture and colourful wallpaper. The bridal room has its own balcony overlooking the pool and a resident goldfish named Bruce Lee. Expect to run into a hip San Diego crowd on Wednesday nights when guests can lounge by the pool with a cocktail and enjoy classic movies played on the outdoor projector.

Cost: Doubles from £92 a night.

thepearlsd.com

2. Lodge at Torrey Pines, La Jolla

Tell me more: This California craftsman-style marvel is just off the San Diego freeway near surfing hub La Jolla. The bellhops in Scottish-style kilts direct you to the two restaurants with balconies overlooking the pool, ocean and golf course. Rooms and suites are huge, with dark wooden furniture and ocean views. It’s just a 20-minute walk to the 2,000-acre Torrey Pines State Park and its dramatic clifftop trails.

Cost: Doubles from £273 a night.

lodgetorreypines.com

3. The Inn, Rancho Santa Fe

Tell me more: Established in 1923, this 80-room ranch feels like a local hangout. Each airy cottage has firm, queen and king-size beds. Head to the cosy Huntsman Bar and have Dutch, the resident mixologist, rustle you up one of his smoked cocktails, then head to the Gatsby-esque dining room, with its stately leather booths and tasting menu. There’s a spa with an alfresco copper bathtub, and the beauty of Solana beach is only a ten-minute drive away.

Cost: Doubles from £295 a night.

theinnatrsf.com

A map showing where the hotels listed are located along the Pacific Coast Highway

4. Venice Beach House, Venice Beach

Tell me more: Venice Beach has lost some of its hippy charm recently, but Big Lebowski fans will find plenty of that original free-wheeling spirit at this historic ivy-clad B&B. Known locally as the Oasis of Venice Beach, the nine- bedroom residence was a private beach house, built by millionaire tycoon Abbot Kinney in 1911. Laidback staff and lush gardens help retain that private-house feel.

Charlie Chaplin set up home here while filming The Tramp in 1914 (ask for the Tramp’s Quarters room). Grab a smoothie at the nearby Cow’s End cafe on Washington Boulevard and head to the Venice Beach canals, or zoom along the boardwalk on an electric scooter.

Cost: Doubles from £195 a night.

venicebeachhouse.com

5. Hotel Shangri-La, Santa Monica

Tell me more: Escape the crowds at this elegant Art Deco gem. The cruise-liner-shaped structure has had a major revamp in recent years, but the original 1930s lifts and Bakelite phones still exist and rooms have a self-contained apartment vibe, with balconies overlooking the beach.

Shop at the nearby farmers’ market on Arizona Avenue and ask the resident hotel chef to cook you something in your private kitchen. Order cocktails at the only rooftop bar in Santa Monica, or ask for the romantic suite where Madonna and Sean Penn once stayed.

Cost: Doubles from £300 a night.

shangrila-hotel.com

6. Nobu Ryokan, Malibu

The minimalist interiors of Nobu Kyokan. The 16-room retreat is located on the beach with dreamy views of Malibu pier

Tell me more: It’s easy to miss this exclusive 16-room beachside retreat, but behind the nondescript frontage you’ll find a Japanese- inspired minimalist masterpiece. The best cabin-style rooms sit directly on the beach with views of Malibu pier. All feature luxuries such as iPads, remote-controlled fireplaces and heated loo seats. Nearby Nobu restaurant delivers fresh sushi to your door. Robert DeNiro is a co-founder, so expect a starry clientele.

Cost: Doubles from £1,567 a night.

noburyokanmalibu.com

7. Belmond El Encanto, Santa Barbara

An exterior shot of the former hippy commune of El Encanto, which is now a retreat spread across seven acres

Tell me more: Once a rundown hippy commune, El Encanto is now a retreat spread across seven acres of secluded gardens, with views over the American Riviera. There are 92 cottages, rooms and suites to choose from, all with elegant interiors and balconies. Take one of the hotel’s electric bikes and head down the hill to the 1786 Spanish Mission with gardens and period artefacts.

Cost: Doubles from £360 a night.

belmond.com/usa

8. Eagle Inn, Santa Barbara

Tell me more: This has a charmingly retro English seaside vibe, thanks to its swirly carpets and cheesy, 1970s-style sunken Jacuzzis. Stroll two blocks to Santa Barbara’s palm-fringed beach, however, and thoughts of a drizzly UK evaporate. Wine-lovers should head to the city’s ‘funk zone’, where nightly tastings include locally grown pinot noirs and chardonnays.

Cost: Doubles from £108 a night.

theeagleinn.com

9. El Capitan Canyon, Central Coast

If you venture to El Capitan Canyon, located 20 miles north of Santa Barbara, you will find 162 log cabins and yurts scattered across a wooded creek

Tell me more: Keen to get back to nature but without the discomforts of traditional camping? El Capitan Canyon, 20 miles north of Santa Barbara, provides 162 log cabins and yurts set within a wooded creek rich in wildlife.

Most cabins have en suite kitchens and showers. It’s quite remote but the lodge can provide ready-to-cook barbecue packages and bags of logs for the firepits. There is also a well-stocked shop for essentials. This is bear, raccoon and mountain lion country, so hide any food leftovers to avoid unwanted visitors. Grab one of the lodge’s beach cruisers and head down to windswept El Capitan beach just the other side of the Pacific Coast Highway.

Cost: Doubles from £152 a night.

elcapitancanyon.com

10. For Friends Inn, Santa Ynez

Tell me more: It’s a short detour off the PCH north of Santa Barbara to this family-run inn, on the edge of Santa Ynez, a small frontier town straight out of a classic western. Guests are treated like old friends, with informal wine tastings around the fire-pit, and home-cooked breakfasts.

Choose from eight chintzy rooms and suites, some with balconies, then line-dance the night away at Santa Ynez bar Maverick, where cowboys come to strut their stuff. Look out for locals Jeff Bridges and David Crosby jamming along with the resident band.

Cost: Doubles from £215 a night.

forfriendsinn.com

11. Alisal Ranch, Solvang

Cowboy country: Get ready to saddle up for a spot of horse-riding if you decide to stay at the Alisal Ranch

Tell me more: Alisal is the local Chumash tribe word for ‘grove of sycamores’, and there are spectacular specimens at this 10,000-acre working ranch set in a valley near Solvang, a town founded by Danes in 1911. Airy rooms and suites are kitted out in rustic wood furniture and colourful Chumash fabrics. Ask for one of the original cowboy cabins by the pool, then saddle up with one of the ranch’s wranglers and enjoy a hack through the glades. Keep an eye out for eagles, cormorants and hawks as you picnic by the lake. This place is perfect for nature-loving families.

Cost: Doubles from £485 a night.

alisal.com

12. Lucia Lodge, Central Coast

Tell me more: Perched on a narrow ledge high above the pounding Pacific, 30 minutes south of Big Sur, these precariously positioned cabins retain their pioneering spirit. They come with outdoor seating areas – perfect for whale-watching. Cabins 7, 8, 9 and 10 have 180-degree views of the coast. Grab a bottle of wine and follow the winding path behind Cabin 10 to an oasis of wildflowers on the edge of the cliff. Magical.

Cost: Cabins from £155.

lucialodge.com

13. Ventana Big Sur, An Alila Resort, Big Sur

Tell me more: Hidden within a glade just south of Big Sur, Ventana’s architecture blends perfectly into the landscape. Choose from 60 wood-panelled rooms, all of them with open fireplaces, outdoor showers and hammocks. The Vista Hot Tub suite has its own indoor and outdoor Jacuzzi. Swimming costumes are optional at the infinity pool overlooking the forest.

Cost: Doubles from £529 a night.

ventanabigsur.com

14. Post Ranch Inn, Big Sur

Golden glow: The sun sets over Post Ranch Inn at Big Sur

Tell me more: This ultra-chilled hideaway has 39 guest rooms perched 1,200ft along a dramatic promontory above the ocean, two infinity pools and five on-site sports cars for guests to use. The on-site Sierra Mar is one of the most beautifully positioned restaurants in California – the glass walls allow stunning uninterrupted views.

Cost: Doubles from £779 a night.

postranchinn.com

15. Glen Oaks Motor Lodge, Big Sur

Tell me more: Californians love the great outdoors but they also enjoy creature comforts. Built in the 1950s, Glen Oaks has well-equipped cabins to suit every budget. Perfectly positioned to explore the drama of Big Sur, guests can marvel at the arboreal wonders from the luxury of their own bathtubs. Choose one of the more remote cabins along the Big Sur River where the redwoods are awesome. Cabins to the east have a more rocking-chair, folksy vibe.

Cost: Doubles from £317 a night.

glenoaksbigsur.com

16. Carmel Valley Ranch, Carm from trackrgadget https://bestessayseller.co.uk/stunning-hotels-to-stop-at-on-one-of-the-worlds-finest-road-trips-along-the-pacific-coast-highway/ https://bestessayseller.co.uk/stunning-hotels-to-stop-at-on-one-of-the-worlds-finest-road-trips-along-the-pacific-coast-highway/

#IFTTT #trackrgadget

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lstas · 7 years

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7-12-17 Afternoon in Rocky Mountain NP

“The mountains keep getting bigger and bigger!” - Matt’s quote of the day Shuttle to Bear Lake. Hike to Nymph, Dream and Emerald Lakes was a fair workout. Mostly because I still haven’t adjusted to increased altitude, so I’m not keeping up my ‘Broadview Terrace pace’. 😕 Here’s what I learned about hiking and taking pictures: stop frequently on the way UP to take photos; good chance to catch your breath without seeming like an out of shape wimp. At Emerald Lake where the snow topped mountains are reflected on the water, we made time to stop, sit and admire. This kind of serenity with this kind of mountain view can’t be found at home. Nor can a mother and baby elk! Each on opposite sides of the trail!! We waited patiently until they reunited (after lots of grazing) then we continued on our way. 😅

Trail Ridge Road across the park. Highest continuous highway in the world. Max elevation 12,200 ft- Arctic Tundra. Surprisingly, flowers grow amidst rocky rubble that is seemingly arranged in curving spans that look like rivers. Actually the rocks were forced up to the surface by natural forces from underground water/ icing over time. The drive down the western section continues to show us beautiful mountain span views and many male elk! Priceless moments to watch their bulky frames look up at us non-plussed, then resume their evening snack.

Dinner at Maverick Grill 🌟🌟🌟🌟was fun! Friendly, familiar service, Coors Light, Trappers Platter (multi game meatloaf- elk, buffalo, venison, boar antelope and beef- “They blend it in the back!“. And grilled elk sausage) - sorry my antlered friends. And of course, Rocky Mountain Oysters!!!

Stayed atCanyon Motel 🌟🌟1/2 In Sulphur Hot Springs Clean, great shower and towels, but small, hot and older carpet. Good value and so good to experience the local.

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