#I’m so happy and proud for both of them they deserve the goddamn world | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pascalpanic · 3 years

Note

hi angel 🥺 i’ve had some time to think of what i want to request and i’ve finally come up with something ;-;

do you think you could write something comforting (doesn’t have to be long!) where maxwell is caring for a reader who is a little tipsy or drunk? the reader is the kind of drunk who’s giggly and playful. and he’s super sweet and gentle with her. maybe they already have a pre-established relationship? maybe some slimy guy is hitting on her and he gets all protective and takes her home? and i’d neverrrrr object to smut either. but i’m leaving it up to you to write whatever you think works the best. i just miss reading soft and protective maxwell yanno ;-;

Overdoing It (Maxwell Lord x f!Reader)

W/C: 1.5k

Warnings: alcohol obviously, sexual innuendo, Maxwell lifts reader so I know some ppl aren’t comfy with that

A/N: RACH MY LOVE I’m sorry this took so long but I’m glad I finally did it bc I love how it turned out! ALSO HAPPY WW84 DAY (July fourth) SO WHAT WONDERFUL TIMING!

You certainly had not intended to imbibe to the level you had tonight. The problem was Maxwell, really, although in the best possible way.

The man has a high tolerance; you, admittedly, have one considerably lower than his. You love seeing Maxwell when he’s tipsy. It’s rare that you get to see it and remember it. The times that he’s tipsy are the times where you’re next to vomiting.

But tonight was a celebration, and Maxwell spared no expense. You’d finally received a position in a job you’d dreamed of, one that caused the two of you to spend hours poring over applications and perfecting cover letters. It was a success for the both of you, you said, but Maxwell insisted that it was all you.

You’d said that takeout was just fine with you, so long as Maxwell was there, but he insisted that a bigger celebration was in order. You didn’t really mind; you love getting dressed up to go out. Max made a reservation at a nice place in downtown D.C. and kept the specific place a surprise from you until now.

As you walked inside, the gorgeous atmosphere made you lose your breath for a moment. Your eyes nearly watered as you looked at Maxwell, and he simply kissed your forehead. “You deserve it, my love. I’m so proud of you.”

The words aren’t exactly rare from Maxwell, but they mean the world to you. Having someone tell you that they love you is one thing, but having someone say they’re proud of you is a completely different one. “I love you,” you grinned and followed him to your table, lacing your fingers through his.

Dinner was wonderful, unsurprisingly. Maxwell had scanned the menu the last time he came here, with business cohorts, and been certain you would like it. The delight on your face as you scanned the menu confirmed it, and Maxwell mentally gave himself a little pat on the back.

You’d ordered appetizers and drinks, then more drinks with the main course (two to accompany the meal, to be exact), and then more with dessert. By then, you were starting to feel a little tipsy, but nothing you couldn’t handle. Slowly, as you left the restaurant, the alcohol sunk in. The drinks were stronger than they’d seemed.

Luckily, Maxwell has a chauffeur. He’d had as many drinks as you, but the man’s tolerance is quite high. He seems barely affected, if not slightly looser and more carefree. The two of you made your way outside, Maxwell holding his arm around your waist to ensure that you didn't stumble; just in case, he reminded you, but you didn’t believe him.

In the car, you snuggle into Maxwell’s side happily, resting your head on his shoulder. “Buckle please, love,” he insists and wraps an arm around you.

“No,” you whine, kissing the soft cologned skin of his neck. “You’re too cozy.”

Maxwell laughs and nestles into you. “I’ll excuse it this once, only because I trust Jeeves,” he teases you. “How are you feeling, love?”

“So happy,” you smile up at him, dazed but content. The alcohol has brought you to a state of bliss now; love for Maxwell, a full stomach from the wonderful dinner, pride in your achievement.

Maxwell nods. “Of course you are,” he murmurs, mostly to himself.

“Ooh, do we have wine at home?” You ask, sitting up and looking at him. “You need a few more.”

“No, no more drinks,” he chuckles and pulls you back into his side. “I think we’re both done for the night, don’t you?” His hands slide over your shoulders, smoothing the bare skin that’s cold to the touch.

You pout at him and Maxwell turns his face away, smiling. “No, I can’t look at that. I won’t be able to say no.”

“Please, baby?” You plead with big eyes.

“We have wine at home,” Maxwell tells you, even though he’s unsure whether or not it’s true. Either way, he won’t be allowing you to drink any of it.

Sighing, you snuggle into his side, shivering. “Car’s cold,” you murmur.

Maxwell removes his suit jacket and drapes it around your shoulders, kissing your head and smiling down at you warmly. “How’s that?”

“Smells like your cologne,” you practically purr like a satisfied cat as you wrap yourself in the expensive fabric. “I love you so much, Maxie-poo.”

“I love you too, darling,” he chuckles. The chauffeur brings you to his house not long after, and Maxwell offers you a hand when you get out of the car.

Sitting in the seat, you frown up at him. “I’m fine, Max.” Standing in your high heels, your wobbly legs thanks to the alcohol send you falling into Maxwell, who catches you.

“Fine, yes,” he chuckles and lifts you back to standing. “Take off your shoes and let me help you inside.”

Sighing and crossing your arms, you step out of your shoes, calves screaming a thank you for removing them from those torture devices. He reaches down and picks them up, ass straining in his suit, and you can’t help but give it a smack, giggling.

“Oh, no, little miss,” Maxwell playfully chides and grabs your arm. “Let’s get you inside, tiger.”

Your legs lead your brain without any thought, drunkenly stumbling your way inside. Maxwell’s arms are your support, really the only thing to keep you from falling. He purposely steers you away from the path leading to the kitchen, knowing you’ll ask for more alcohol should you see it. When you reach the foot of the stairs, you groan and look at Maxwell with puppy eyes. You know his back has been bad lately, his joints ache when the humidity rises, but you can’t do this without him. “Can you carry me? Please?” You ask him.

Maxwell chuckles and kisses your head tenderly. “I suppose. Climb on my back.” He stands with his palms the wall, squatting for you to jump up on him.

The formal dress makes it difficult, but you hop up, both of you groaning as you latch onto him. “I love you so goddamn much,” you babble happily, kissing along the skin behind his ears.

“You’re lucky I love you too,” he grunts as he makes his way up the stairs, his knees aching from the weight of carrying absolutely anything on his back.

When he reaches the top, you get down and sigh, kissing him sloppily. “You’re the best.”

“I’m wonderful,” he sighs and rolls his eyes, leading you to the bedroom and letting you plop down on his plush California king bed.

You strip off his suit jacket and toss it at him, and he catches it without even looking. “Don’t even think about seducing me tonight, darling. You’re too far gone,” he chuckles.

His words make you frown and stop in the middle of unzipping your dress slowly. “I wasn’t gonna,” you grumble and stand, slipping out of the dress and getting under the thick covers of the bed.

“Sure,” Maxwell smiles and retreats into his large closet. He returns in pajama pants and the white tee he wore under his button-up.

He looks so soft like this, and even drunk, you recognize what a privilege it is to see him like this. His large suits hide his frame, but you can see the soft curve of his tummy, his broad shoulders and narrow torso. “We should get married,” you blurt to him, your heart-eyes penetrating through to his center.

“You’re drunk,” he shakes his head as he wanders to the bathroom. He returns with his thick-rimmed glasses on, and it completes the look, his highlighted hair messy and beginning to curl.

He sits on his side of the bed and hands you a glass of water and some painkillers. “You’re going to feel like shit in the morning, and you’re not allowed to blame me.”

“I won’t,” you pout and take the pills, rolling onto your side to face him. His legs are beneath the covers, and one of yours snakes to his and wraps your ankle around his.

Max smiles softly at the gesture. He recognizes it. You need his touch, want to snuggle tonight rather than keep to your own in his spacious bed. He lies down and you quickly scoot over to him, resting your head and a palm on his chest.

“I love you, dear,” he murmurs and kisses your forehead, his hand stroking your back lovingly. “You sleep now. Please.”

“I want to cuddle a little longer,” you frown and look up at him, face barely peeking out from the covers.

Max laughs. “Of course. We’ll stay like this, but at least make an effort to fall asleep. Your headache in the morning will be better if you sleep more.”

“Fine,” you sigh and scoot your body as close to his as possible, kissing his chest through the plain white t-shirt. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he repeats and sets his glasses to the side, letting himself sink into the squishy bed. He’ll surely have to care for you in the morning too, but he doesn’t mind. It’s worth it.

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lengthofropes · 3 years

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POVs series

Part 4: Dean

words: 2,2k; rating: teen and up

summary:

Dean’s POV, since Cas is gone, then got back from the Empty.

Intentionally written as scattered thoughts.

Slowly, from grief, to the ending that they both deserve.

————————————-

1. What shapes me? Lines of my bones, enveloped within my skin, so tensed and fragile. The tremble of my hands in the morning, as I try but can’t find you next to me. My old clothes, my new clothes. Corners of my house. My car’s seat upholstery. Soft recoil of my revolver. Food on my plate. Blood in my arteries. My “yes”s and my “no”s and cracks in my voice, as I say so. - I’d drive. - Far away. From here, but where to? I’d watch the sun goes up and down, up and down, throwing it’s rays into side mirror. Lightening the road or leaving it in darkness, disturbed only by the headlights. I’d listen to the sound that air makes, sliced in half by the windshield. I’d listen to the purring of the engine under the hood, gratefully fed with gasoline. Too bad, it’s not clamorous enough. I’d pay dearly. With money, with time, that’s left. With anything. For something so loud, that could muffle my inaudible screams into nowhere. - I’d drive. But where to? - I don’t know where to. -

keep reading under the cut - or - read on AO3

2. I can’t drive alone. I keep seeing your gaze on my right. I see it, when I look into the rear view mirror too. Like you’re still here, around, waiting to say something. Or just sitting silently, pervading the air with the appeasement of your presence. Looking at me. How long will it take me to forget how your eyes looked like? How long will it take me to forget what you saw in me? How can I? Now, that I believe in everything you’ve said. - How warm your touch was. - How good does it feel to be “finally free”, remind me? I don’t like the price. -

3. I’d like some certainty, you know? To come to terms. But I keep thinking “If only..” I keep asking “What if..?” So many of those. Like there are other paths, and it all could’ve work out differently. They throw me back days ago, then months ago, then years. All my life, since the day I’ve met you. I keep searching for the answer, for the exact point, the moment, when I could’ve say something, do something. And you’d still be here.

“If”s are draining me. They are the lump in my throat, big and barbed. Sometimes it grows so big, it blocks the air from getting into my lungs. And in times like these I wonder, maybe I should just stop breathing at all? Still easier, than to accept your absence. - What if. What if. What if. - And you’d still be here. Here. -

4. Prayers never got me any good. Except of those, that were for you. But you can’t hear me now. You can’t hear at all. I know, it’s no use, I know it’s not possible, I know… I know. But I keep doing this, I keep begging. Not for a solace, not because of compassion. For fairness. Because. You took yourself away from me. It’s not fair, it’s so not fair. How could you do this to me? It’s not fair, can you hear me? It’s not fair! It’s not… - Come back to me. - Bring him back to me. - I don’t know if it is a prayer, I just repeat it over and over. Maybe I’m hoping these words will lose their meaning, if I’ll bounce them against every wall? Every wall of every empty room. I wander around them at night. You stood here, you smiled there, we had an argument, sitting in these chairs. And here, here you touched my shoulder. - Come back to me. Please, come back to me. -

5. How come, it’s been months already? I counted the seconds; they aimlessly wandered around, and then, having nothing else to do, gathered into minutes. It took more courage for minutes to gather in hours, but they did anyway. Hours slowly built up the days, and every seven days made it into a week. - I know, how time works. I’m just not sure, it works for me. - It’s not a straight line, I think. It’s more like a quagmire, and I’m drowning. I looked at myself in the mirror again this morning, as I do every day. I look closely, I check, I perceive. Hey, you’d be proud of me, you know? Little by little, I merge my usual “I” with your vision of me. Because this is the best way to remember you - to live by your last words. - I’d like to tell you, how YOU changed me. [ X ] -

6. Light is blinding me. Heart grew so big, it filled all of my chest, not sure, if there’s a place left to breathe in. Please, let it be real. Please. Please… Not another happy dream, that turns into nightmare, when I’m waking up. Please. - I see you. - Same room, same spot. You. Alive. Your hands are cold. You’re so weak, you can’t stand by yourself, you can’t even speak. But before you passed out, you looked at me. You looked at me, and I saw my own eyes reflect in yours. And that was enough to believe this is real. - I don’t remember… I… - Someone’s shaking my shoulder and saying my name over and over again. I’m sitting on the floor, holding you in my arms. My fingers hurt. I must’ve clutched them into your trench coat too tight. I have no idea how long I’ve been sitting like this. But yes… yes… Sam’s hand is on my shoulder and he’s right, his voice is very quiet, but he’s right. We should get you out of here. We should put you in bed. - I nod. I’m not sure I can speak. -

7. It’s so quiet. - You lay. You rest. You sleep. I’ll watch over you. It’s my turn now. The room is still. Only movement is your chest’s slow ups and downs, as you breathe. It’s just air, nothing more, right? How can the sound of air, filling the lungs, be the most soothing sound in the world? But it is. - It’s our air. We share it. - And I’m crying. I’m crying and I’m crying and I can’t stop. -

8. Sam came back from the store, I stand in the kitchen, taking out groceries and stuff out of the shopping bags. Among everything, I see he bought a super glue, I have no idea, what he needs this for. This is so stupid, this is so fucking stupid, it’s pathetic… but I can’t keep my eyes of it. “Use super glue to strongly bind 2 surfaces together”. I want to come into your room, I want to sit beside you, while you’re still sleeping. I want to smear that goddamn glue all over you, from head to toe, and put myself on top of you, as like I’m the other surface. “Assemble parts and hold together with pressure for 15 seconds or until set”, the directions say. Or, there’s gotta be sewing kit here somewhere? I want to thread a needle and sew you to me. With such large and strong stitches, I darned Sam’s pants like that when I was a kid, I know these stitches are reliable, believe me. Or use a duck tape. Or shove us both into the bottle and threw it away into the ocean. - It’s been two days and nine hours, since you’re back. Someday, I’ll be able to leave your room, leave you out of my sight, and don’t feel growing panic in my chest. - Someday, I’ll believe you’re back for good. For good. For ever. Not today. -

9. Your bare legs are sticking out of your robe. You are strong enough to walk around the bunker, and, of course, the first thing you did is get to the kitchen. Oh, you woke up hungry and just wanted to make yourself a sandwich, I see… You are not cold, but you are sitting on a chair, constantly adjusting this stupid robe, wrapping yourself in it tighter. You weirdo. You know who you remind me of? A cold little sparrow on a twig, who keeps on ruffling the feathers to keep warm. Those legs are sticking out… - I place a huge bowl of hot chicken soup in front of you. “Eat!” I say. “Or I’m gonna start feeding you with a spoon, I swear!” You mutter something dissatisfied about peanut butter and jelly under your nose, but I won’t even listen. "Eat!” I say. Seriously, you didn’t want to wake me up?? So nice of you! Next time consider my near heart attack, maybe? You look sorry and giving me those puppy eyes, and I swear I want to smile so bad. Not just smile, really. To laugh with my full chest, easy and warm. - You breathe. You sleep. Now you eat. Should I ask questions? You’re here. You’re okay. You’re getting better. - You’re getting better. -

10. Your hair smell of my shampoo. Your hair. Smell of my shampoo. Your clothes are my old ones, but they fit you so good. Soon, when you’re well enough, we’re gonna drive some place nice and buy you your own. It’s selfish, probably, but I want it to happen as late, as possible; not your recovery, of course, your new clothes, I mean. - You look mine in my clothes. - Your hair smell of my shampoo. I’ve realised it just now, when you fell asleep on my shoulder. I forgive you, we’ve seen this movie two times already, it’s okay. And I can pretend I’m still watching it, while shamelessly wander my eyes over you, curled in a ball, covered with soft plaid. - I dare to kiss the top of your head, I dare to cover your knuckles with my palm, carefully, not to wake you up. - You are so warm. -

11. Do I deserve you? - Do I? Your presence in my life. You. All of you. So pure, so perfect. So selfless. I’d say you are full of light, but it’s not quite so. Because you are the light. God, I’m so scared. It starts in my fingertips, they ache, like being pinned with needles. Needles get into my blood flow and make my whole body shiver. - It took me way too long to understand, but I see now… it’s not about you, it’s about me. I know, I know! I remember everything you’ve said. I remember how I tried to believe it, to understand, to accept, to let it all inside me and keep it there. Your simple truth, that I actually mean something. Mean so much. To you. Fucking everyday morning exercises. Look and repeat, look and repeat to self all over again, “you are loved, you are loved, you are loved…” until not scared of the meaning. But… is this enough? What you feel about me? What I feel about you? To deserve you? Do I deserve you, do I? Do I? I… - But you’re kissing me back. - And you shiver too. Are those my needles got into your veins or are those yours? Jesus, do you have the same idiotic thoughts in your head?? God, we are both so clumsy, so stupid, so fucking stupid! We were so dumb, we are both so dumb! We are… We… - WE. - And I’m kissing you. I’m kissing you. I deserve it. I deserve you. I do. -

12. To feel the pulse on your neck with my lips. To smile, when your stubble tickles my ribs. To hear your shuddered inhales right next to my temple. To hold you, closer than ever, and not be afraid to. - It’s something about the heat of your skin, that makes me feel belonged. Safe. -

13. - You told me, you want to grow old with me. -

14. It’s quite hot, but windy today. You rolled the window down, and fresh air immediately filled up the car. We’re driving back home from the grocery store. You’re texting to someone and smiling. Tell them “Hi” from me. We’re listening to the new mixtape you’ve made. It’s awful, by the way. 90’s? Seriously?? Oh, don’t hurt yourself rolling your eyes back. Ok…Okay! I’m shutting up! You’re taking two milkshakes out of the bag, one for you, one for me. We argue on who’s gonna cook today. We drive past the small tidy houses with green yards and gardens, talking over each one of those. Someday, soon, yeah, most likely. That one with blue shutters? Yeah, I like it too. - In between of shifting the gears, I hold your hand. I love you. - Days are like this. -

15. Hello, my name is Dean Winchester. White male, early forties’. I don’t try to recognize myself in a mirror anymore. I don’t ask questions. - I’m just here. - Yeah, there’s grey in my hair, quite a bit, but still. These are my arms, my shoulders, hands. I used to know my hands as lethal, strong and fast, and I’ve always thought, that’s enough for male hands. I mean… they are, yes. But now I’d add, they are full of care, also. Even gentle. They are good for so many things, I didn’t even realize they are so good. [ X ] - This is my face. Here are my freckles and there are my wrinkles. - This is my skin; I live in it.

- It finally fits me. -

__________________________________

tag list:

@alivedean @achillestiel @acklesology @agentcastiels @burnhamandtilly @bluefirecas @bebecas @becauseofthebowties @ben-edlund @bestiarum @bipridedean @brokenyouth @casthyelle @captain-flint @celestialdean @celestialcastiel @chaoticdean @castheology @cosmiccas @deanwinchesteradjacent @donestiel @debriefingspn @dstiel @evermorecastiel @emptymeg @endverse @fromperdition @forthiswholeworld @galaxycastiel @heartattackles @honeystiel @highvoltagejackles @inacatastrophicmind @itsinjustbeing @icegifs @iheartcas @itsinjustbeing @joharvele @jacobglaser @jackthomson90-blog @lucymorans @mad-as-a-box-of-frogs @magnoliadean @maxguevra @misha-collins @mckkachins @marvells @mochadean @nesnej @nuntox @presidentbidean @rocksaltseraph @sarahblakes @starlightcastiel @starrynightdeancas @sobsicles @shelikestv @sinnabonka @sourpatchdean @spnsmile @smiledean @seraphcastiel @soleeryx @subbydean @tearsofgrace @teamfoundfamily @theedorksinlove @thatisahotsoup @ultravioletcas @valleydean @waywardism @winchester-reload @winchestergifs @xofemeraldstars @yelenasbelovaas @you-cant-spell-subtext-without @saltyghostsworld @plantdadcas @sammy-501 @dtadeancas @subtledean @kaz2y5baby @angelic-bee-enthusiast @gardenforcas @bimiserables @gabrielle-main @highkey-dysphoric @lila-tom @teddybluesclues

#sorry guys! original post got messed with the links and I can't fix them....so just decided to make another oner of archive purposes((#don't mind me))#destiel fanfic #spncreatorsdaily #destiel fanfiction #destiel fix it #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #destiel poetry #anz writes stuff and things #fic tag

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moonandsunwoo · 3 years

Text

I’m glad you’re here. | JB

Besto friendo!Jacob x reader, comfort/angst, take notice of the triggerwarnings please.

warnings: s*lfh*rm-scars, being really really sad and feeling just goddamn awful, really.

I wrote this for me in the first place. I hope you can’t relate but if you do, I wish you all the love and strength in the world. You deserve it. Believe me. My inbox is always open for you. Take care, you’re so strong and I’m proud of you for making it so very far. Keep fighting and never be ashamed or scared of asking for help. We’ll make it through.

⁺.⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙-୭.⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙

“Hey did you- oh sorry...-oh...” Jacob who stumbled - or more like crashed into the room without any kind of warning - stopped dead on his tracks at the sight of you.

His eyes fell from your emotionless face to your exposed thighs, scarred skin peaking through under the fabric of one his shirts. You had been to slow to cover anything with your hand or the sheets and now he’d seen everything.

“D-did I what?” It was a weak attempt of yours to change the subject and turn the attention away from the elephant in the room, and it wasn’t very fruitful. Jacob swallowed dryly before carefully closing the door behind him.

He suddenly seemed paler than before, lips pressed together, jaw set. Without another word he dropped down on the bed next to you, eyes trained on his own hands who were fiddling with various rings.

“You’re...you okay if I like...hold you- or just your hand, for a sec or something?” It wasn’t more than a whisper yet you still heard it. You nodded shortly, letting your best friend scoot back until his back hit the wall behind him. You carefully leaned back against his chest, surprised by the prominent sound of his heart beating. His arm immediately wrapped tight around your shoulders, head resting against yours.

“What were you doing when I came in?” Jacob asked quietly, unsure of how to approach the whole situation. Or if to approach it. Maybe you didn’t wanted to, maybe-

You sighed softly, offering him your hand. He immediately intertwined his fingers of his free hand with yours, letting both drop into his lap.

“I was just...I wasn’t doing anything actually.” Jacob hesitated for a second before shaking his head.

“Do you wanna talk about it? Everything I mean.” You hesitated for a second. Did you really wanted to talk all about it with him? Burden him with your proble-

“You don’t have to. But if you decide to share it with me, I promise I will keep it to myself if you want that. Or I can...try to help, in whatever way you need it.” Jacob spoke slowly, softly and determined, as if he’d thought his words through thoroughly before saying them. “You know, sometimes doing as much as sharing it with someone helps take off the weight. It maybe...maybe it makes you feel weak in the second but it’s better than being all alone with it. Or that’s how it is for me.” You nodded slowly, still hesitant.

“I cannot describe to you how I feel Jacob. It’s...I can’t. I want to, but there are not enough words, not enough expressions for it.” Jacob nodded slowly.

“Would you want to draw it?” You looked up at him, surprised and confused.

“D-draw? And how?” Jacob shrugged lightly, reaching for his cellphone in his back pocket.

“On here. Maybe it helps you express yourself.” He opened an app, a swirl of colours in a wheel right next to a blank white canvas. Hesitatingly you let your finger brush across the smooth screen, scaling and toning the wheel until you created a deep, dark blueish grey shade. With a swipe of your finger the canvas was no longer a plain white surface.

Jacob just watched you, word- and motionless, watching you add layers of colour over layer.

First the dark blue-grey. It filled the whole canvas, a clean base for what was to follow.

He noticed a lot of black. Either your shading got very dark or you just straight up went for the bottom of them wheel.

Red and venomous green dots blossomed up across the picture, like flowers in the night. Black got ripped apart by strokes of white and yellow only to be scribbled over with grey and a sickishly gleaming purple. And then you’d pick the black back up and draw over it, again and again. Until you grew tired and stopped to stare. The screen was now all black.

You switched the phone off and handed it back to him, not knowing what to say.

“Thank you.” Was all Jacob whispered before pulling you closer, almost into his lap.

“I’m sorry...” Jacob shushed you with a little protesting huff, thumb sweeping over your knuckles.

“Don’t apologise please. I’m just...I’m grateful for you showing me how you feel...would you allow me to help you? If you want and feel comfortable.”

You said nothing for quite a while.

“I’m just so empty and yet so full, Cobie. I feel like I could burst but because of how void I feel.” Jacob nodded.

“I think I understand.” He took a deep breath.

“What now?”

You shrugged, resting comfortably against his chest, eyes closed. “I’m hungry.” Jacobs giggle made your whole body shake and it managed to curl the edges of your lips up too.

“Then why don’t we do something about that first.” You nodded, sitting up expectantly just to be pulled right back by Jacob.

“Huh?”

“Just a second, yeah?” You sank back against him, waiting for an explanation. “Just...just want to like, hold you a bit. That okay?”

“Well obviously. If you cook afterwards...” you were joking, obviously. Jacob could “just hold you a bit” for a whole week and you wouldn’t complain, and he knew that.

“Hey you? Thank you.” Jacob just hummed, resting his face in the crook of your neck.

“I’m proud of you. You’re stronger than you want to acknowledge. And I’m always here for you.” You nodded, feeling a wave of tiredness wash over you.

“Me too. Really.” The two of you sank into a comfortable silence, enjoying the bubble of peace and comfort the two of you had managed to build around yourself.

Until your stomach protested.

“That was loud. Food?” Jacob chuckled, lifting his chin from your shoulder.

You just grinned, getting up from the bed finally. Jacob tossed a pair of his comfy sweats into your direction, not even thinking twice about it. It made you smile a bit, and you bit your lips in an attempt to cover it when you reached for his hand he immediately offered after you slipped into the huge clothes.

“Whatcha smiling about?” He nudged friendly, walking you into the kitchen.

“You. I’m just glad you’re here Jacob.” He looked almost surprised at your words, immediately wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You missed the wet shimmer of his eyes when you scanned the Ramen options he had presented you, and you also missed the fond smile he gave you when you weren’t looking. You did however catch the happy quick of his lips when you finally tossed the ramen of your choice towards him.

“What’s it?”

“Nothing. I’m just also glad you’re here.”

⁺.⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙-`m.list´-୭.⋆｡⋆༶⋆˙

#ult project 🤍#words of my own [writing]#jacob bae #the boyz #the boyz angst #tw self destructive behavior #tw selfhate #tw scars #tw sucidal thoughts #jacob x reader #jacob bae x reader #jacob bae x you #the boyz x gn reader #the boyz x you #the boyz x reader #angst #comfort #the boyz comfort #sunwoo

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lyukablau · 3 years

Text

Kunikida helping his s/o who suffer from self harm.

TRIGGERS WARNING: cutting behavior, blood, slight angst and grammar errors.

Type: Scenarios, fluff and comfort.

A/N: Hi it's Lyuka! This is the second scenario I wrote, I hope it doing fine! Please make sure you see the warning first and avoid the triggers for your own safety! You have been warned.

Word count: 1.7k

Every morning you wake up, you keep wondering how come you are still alive, after all the trauma you have? How come he still stays by your side, even though you are broken inside?

Y/N woke up in an empty bed, cold bedroom, and silent house. You feel like the world has reached its end and now you are alone.

You miss him, again. Although you guys meet each other every day and a couple are you, you always feel like he is not by your side anymore.

Not good, you need to see him right now. But first, you have to clean your dried bloody wrist, you can’t let him see that.

You get out of bed, go to the bathroom and do your morning routine. You look at yourself in the mirror, eyes puffy, tired face and exhausted look. Maybe you should take a day off and sleep because last night you couldn’t. You consider that you should stay at home today, or ignore the pain and go to work like usual.

That’s it. You should rest and do your best tomorrow, you are not sure if you can work properly today.

Y/N go back to bed and shut the curtains, put the blanket on your body and close your eyes. Your wrist is still itching, and you don’t have the urge to place the band-aids on them, let say that you can’t, you want to but you can’t. All you must do right now is call the resident, told him that you feel sick and can’t go to the agency today.

When the resident told you to take care and allowed you to have a day off, you sigh in relief and close your eyes immediately, the long sleep is all you need after a rough battle with your mind last night.

“Y/N-chan couldn’t go to work today? Oh no! Then who would I commit double suicide with?”

“All you can think is just that?”

“Of course I’m curious too, maybe she caught a cold and has a high fever right now. Not good, I need to call her!”

“Stop right there you wasting-bandage machine. You have work, don’t you remember?”

“All right. I just want to remind you to check up on her, she’s your woman, right? Kunikida-kun”

“I know that much, so stop talking and do your work now, Dazai”

Dazai smiles and sits at his desk, puts on his headphones and leans his back on the chair.

Kunikida wondered why you didn’t call him, saying that you can’t go to the agency today. Maybe you are exhausted because of the fever and you forgot to do it, he will call you after this paperwork is done.

You woke up again, in the same bed, the same bedroom. It’s already time for lunch but you are too tired to get up and find something to eat, both physically and mentally. You opened your eyes and stared at the curtains, thinking about last night and the images of you cutting your wrist like it wasn’t a big deal. You have already gotten used to it for a long time.

A long time? When did it start? You have been in this state for how long? A month? A year? Or ten years? You don’t remember.

You get your heavy head up, tiredly go to the bathroom and again, you see yourself in the mirror.

“Stop looking at me”

You said toward the mirror, such a nonsense sentence. You keep staring at your own eyes reflected in the mirror, see how disgusting you have been and how much you fucked up. You can’t stand it anymore, you hit your knuckles to the wall next to you, strong and hard enough to make your hand bleed.

Again, it’s coming to you.

The feeling of not doing anything good, the feeling of failure and disappointment about yourself. You run out of the bathroom, rush to your desk in the bedroom and grab the paper knife and start cutting.

But the ringtone from your phone stops you after one deep cut.

It’s him.

You hesitated to pick up, but you feel helpless right now. You need him, for a very long time, you feel the need for someone to help you.

You pick up, the tear begins to fill your eyes and drop on the floor. Your chest feels heavy and hurt so much that you can’t answer his question.

“Y/N, are you okay? Answer me please”

“Doppo…”

“What’s wrong?”

The emotions are so strong that you can’t bear them, this is the first time you have such a feeling like this. Your heart is beating so fast that you can’t breathe properly. Before you could say something to him, the darkness covers your sight, and you can’t hear anything else.

“Y/N? Y/N!”

Kunikida was completely in panic and worry, he was sure that you collapsed during the call. Were you that tired? He calls Dazai, tells that man everything just happened and helps him to tell the resident that he has to go to Y/N place right now. Dazai seems to know everything and just says okay. Kunikida grabs his stuff and leaves the agency in a rush.

He ran to your house, remember that you have allowed him to keep a spare key to your front door. Kunikida cursed to himself when he struggled to open the door.

Kunikida dashes in to see the dark and cold room, your house always like this? He takes off his shoes and finds you laying on the bedroom floor, wrist bleeding and unmoved.

“Y/N!”

He holds you in his arm carefully, his eyes seek the instrument which damaged you and he sees the paper-knife. Kunikida’s eyes were wide open because he understood what just happened, that you didn’t have a fever.

Kunikida carries you to your living room, puts you on the couch and goes to the bathroom to grab a towel. His eyes caught the bloodstains on the wall next to the sink and it didn’t take so long for him to recognize where that had come from.

He drenches the towel and comes back to you laying on the couch, still unconscious. Kunikida kneels, grabs your left arm and starts washing the blood around the cut. After that, he goes to the first cabinet on the right side of the kitchen, takes out the first-aid kit, and now he knows why you tell him where the first-aid kit is and why you allowed him to have a spare key.

Kunikida was patching you up carefully and silently, he saw the other cut which had started to heal up slowly, he counted, its ten cuts in total.

So there were ten times you needed him but he wasn’t there.

Kunikida lifted his head when he saw you shifting. You open your eyes tiredly and almost jump out of the couch when you see him kneel next to you.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

“What happened…?”

“You collapsed while we were on the call, so I came here to check on you”.

You are confused a bit and try to remember the time before you fainted, then you scare again.

Now Kunikida knows everything, you can’t hide it anymore. He will leave you, he will reject you and he will break up with you, and you will be alone again.

“Why didn’t you tell me? Am I not trustful enough?”

“Of course not! You are the person that the entire agency can trust, and so am I. I was so happy that a gentle and strong man like you is my boyfriend, but… If I tell you, I won’t be your ideal woman anymore”

The last sentence stabs Kunikida unemotionally, he didn’t think you would think that way. Both of you stay silent for a while until Kunikida wraps his arm around your shaking body, his face in the crook of your neck and hugs you tightly. You can tell that he is crying.

“Please don’t do that again. I love you so much to see you doing this to yourself, I can’t lose my ideal woman, I can’t lose you”

“How come? Now I’m completely a mess! Nobody in this damn world can love a person with mental illness, especially the idealist you are. I can’t ruin your life any further, I don’t want to hurt you because of my goddamn problems!”

Kunikida silent. He keeps hugging you and even tightens the hug, but you insist. You keep pushing him away, not because you don’t love him, but you see how disgusting and pathetic you are.

You don’t deserve him.

“Y/N, you are my ideal woman, no matter how you reject yourself, you are still my woman. I’m not gonna leave you, and I will prove to you that a person with mental illness can be loved. Together, we can get through this, if you allowed me to help you”

Kunikida talking slowly and calmly. It is clear that this is not written in his notebook, but he will fix it with you and he won’t leave you, he loves you so much to do it.

Your heart sink even deeper into the way Kunikida comforted you. You hug him back and crying like a child, Kunikida strokes your hair and rubs your back soothingly, kiss your face randomly.

“I’m so proud of you, Y/N. You did a great job, you were so brave and strong. I’m proud of you for living until today, you don’t have to suffer by yourself anymore”

You recognized the reason for living and stop cutting after crying a while. If you have gone, your boyfriend will be hurt and you will break his ideals, and he will be hurt even more.

You need him, and so he is.

“Did you eat something?”

“No, I haven’t eaten anything”

“Can I borrow your kitchen? I’ll make some food for both of us”

“Let me help-”

“Leave it to me, love. It won’t take long, now go wash your face then we can have lunch together”

“Okay”

You hug Kunikida again, his scent calms you down and his strong arms make you feel safe and warm. Just thinking you will eat lunch with your boyfriend, the fear and loneliness vanish away from your mind.

The pain on your wrist no longer bothering you.

#Kunikida x reader #scenarios #fluff #comfort #bsd x reader #Kunikida x reader fluff #Make sure you see the warning first!!!

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heretherebedork · 3 years

Text

I am here to hurt myself by watching WBL2. I know it ends in a reward but the beginning is nothing but agony and why I haven't watched it before. I am already in pain just from watching any tiny amount of pain of these boys.

lol I am literally refering to this as my day of atonement.

... I did make a very nice Rosh Hashanah post but that doesn't make me particularly religious, tbh. Cultural Judaism, yo.

Also, pain. Hi pain.

Ugh, I avoided this pain for so long. Now I'm here for it. One post. I'm only making this one post. @absolutebl I'm doing it! I know how much you love this, though.

Oh, fuck it, if I'm trying to limit all my rambling to one post I might as well read more it. I ramble so much.

Ep 1:

Oh look pain. Pain. And more pain. Yup. Yup. I hate this kind of plot even if I know it resolves well. At least it's not cheating but STILL hi dying. Shu Yi is a darling boy who deserved better than five years of nothing for any reason and Gao Shi De should have been better than that. Even knowing it ends well doesn't make this easier. dgkldf GODDAMN IT SELF. Just watch the show and stop being a baby about emotional pain.

Awww, the matching ties! I've seen that post a dozen times and love it every time and it's good to see.

The fucking way Gao Shi De just tries to walk back into his life without a second word or hesitation or thought makes me SO DAMN TWITCHY. Poor Shu Yi. Also, Gao Shi De deserves every punch and slap and uuughhh this show was designed to hurt me. I HATE relationships falling apart. Absolutely my least favorite trope/plot point of practically all time.I hate it I hate iiiit I hate it so muuuuuch.

I mean, damn, the acting here is amazing beyond words, obviously. But that just makes it hurt more. Especially Shu Yi's pain that he's put behind so much anger and work just to keep himself functional and it's damn gorgeous DAMNit.

Ep 2:

Darling Shu Yi deserved so much better. Even though Gao Shi De wasn't cheating on him, he deserved better than the silence and disappearance and he deserves the goddamn world. Ugh literally like a minute into the episode and already there is so much pain. I know they end up happy but I almost want to just tell Shu Yi to tell Gao Shi De to fuck off forever.

Nope, Gao Shi De, you deserve the pain. Shu Yi does't, you do, your upset doesn't get me upset. Shu Yi's pain is the only one I regret in this show. But, seriously, doing all this in front of the whole company is such a bastard move in his part honestly. Poor Shu Yi, seriously.

I do love my tiny obviously favorite character, though, and his tiny inability to sit and his tiny double hands for everything and I adore him beyond measure.

Ugh, Shu Yi choosing to fake the return of trust and friendship and love and I am proud of him for doing that and no, I don't care, Gao Shi De deserves it. I mean, it's not a good or healthy choice but, you know what, I'm okay with that.

But seriously. Poor Shu Yi. Has to deal with being ghosted and then Gao Shi De's return and then an extremely drunk ex crying on him when he's just trying to go to work... at midnight, okay, maybe not healthy either.

Ep 3:

Oh, Gao Shi De. You're an idiot. I mean that... only with a tiny bit of affection and mostly with me rolling my eyes. Making a promise to his dad wasn't bright of you. I mean, seriously, 5 years without contacting him, telling him what happened and on the condition that Shu Yi doesn't try to move on in five years of being completely ghosted. That's just dumb to an astonishingly level of dumb.

Ugh, poor Shu Yi. Your dad and your ex are both idiots and they deserve to get away from you just like you want. Seriously. You poor young man. You deserved so much better from the people you love.

But seriously fuck Gao Shi De and Shu Yi's dad. You're both idiots who don't deserve him. Especially his dad. But also especially Gao Shi De. Seriously. This is why we talk to people, damnit. Poor Shu Yi.

Why, yes, that's my main take away from this show. Shu Yi deserved so much better. Gao Shi De's need to constantly solve everything by himself is the biggest problem in the show, oy vey.

OF COURSE he wants to go back to that time. He was loved and loved and trusted you and happy and comfortable and who wouldn't want to go back to that?

Yu Zhen Xuan is my darling, obviously, and Pei Shou Yi's wanting to take care of him but also to stay away from him for his own sake. Oh, boys.

Ep 4:

I know they get better at some point. I really do. Shu Yi is still breaking my heart, though. I just want to see the poor darling smile and not in a flashback.

Oh, Shu Yi. You deserve the world, seriously. I mean, I'm glad you've managed to come back around to trying to believe in Gao Shi De. I really am. But man he doesn't deserve it. But also ugh, this embrace, utterly fantastic. Darling Shu Yi is finally smiling!

And poor Yu Zhen Xuan trying to ask about Pei Shou Yi so deseperately and being denied everything... ugh, I love him so much. But mostly just Yu Zhen Xuan wanting that connection so badly but always, again and again, denied and I just want to comfort him so badly. Yes, he's coming to you but, I mean, what is friendship but going to other people for comfort? Awww, the two ramens. The BABY.

But also darling Shu Yi is finally smiling and Gao Shi De does bring him comfort and love and they're genuinely good to and for each other, at least, once they're together. Now they just need to actually talk to each other about what happened.

The simultaneous "DAD" was gorgeous. Okay, that was really good.

Ep 5:

Ah, my long awaited darling boy's backstory that I know and love. The tiny panic and fear and the way he jumps and fights back at the tiniest thing... I love this feral teenager SO MUCH and then he grows up into a CTO for a major company and it's even better.

Plus, Pei Shou Yi looking for him after telling him not to come back because the mug got returned? Ugh, heartbreaking but in like a sad, small kind of way.

And the darling CEOs teasing each other in front of their employees while also in suits and being uplifting and good at supporting them? A+ how does one go about getting bosses like that? Also, how Shu Yi looks at Gao Shi De when he's being a good boss? Also A+.

Okay, yes, they're adorable and tiny and the piggyback ride while also in suits and looking fine is simple the best of the best and Gao Shi De taking care of Shu Yi while also confronting his father is frankly amazing. Oh, darling boys.

Gao Shi De, he already admitted that he did this entirely to trick you and Shu Yi is perfectly willing to take a stand against his father. Stop trying to win him over. Let Shu Yi handle his family. His dad's an idiot and he's not gonna listen to you.

Ep 6:

More backstory for my darling feral teenager and the doctor who took care of him at his lowest. I love them both so much. I wish they'd gotten more of a story but I'm not entirely sure I want a third season about them either.

Portable boyfriend! Well! Portable boy... friend...

Also, Shu Yi and Gao Shi De, you have no right to talk about them not communicating, seriously boys, love you to death but seriously communication... actually, honestly, Shu Yi is great at communication. He can criticize them. Gao Shi De has no right.

Pei Shou Yi, seriously, you say these things about not having any emotion but you also admit that you knew he evoked a response from you. You definitely remembered and had feelings about him when you were separated. I mean, you even saved the ramen that was his favorite. You looked for him. I know it's scary but that's okay.

Shu Yi is just so adorable about meeting the in-laws and being all awkward and adorable and it's beyond cute and then the talk about his dad and family and they're just adorable and domestic and sweet and how dare they.

Literally, Shu Yi is the best person in the world and the two people who love him most can learn a lot from him.

Ugh, Yu Zhen Xuan is my baby and I love him so much and he's just doing his best to be his best and he wants to love and be loved but he's trying so hard and I love him so much. He's just such a darling and he also deserves the world and to be loved just as he loves.

And we had to have another pool kiss, of course, what darlings.

Pei Shou Yei: I don't experience emotions... except the ones involved in protect Yu Zhen Xuan because those aren't emotions, those are just natural urges and don't count.

Awww, proposals are always adorable and sweet.

I did it! I've finally watched the whole thing, between dramacool and dailymotion I've managed to watch this show. Yay for me!

#bl drama #bl series #i'm not really gonna tag this #i'm so late to the game #but also agony #so you know #lol i finally did it #now my list of shows i have considered watching but chosen not to is at least one shorter

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alovesthis · 3 years

Text

the best and most beautiful birthday man (SAM WILSON)

SAM WILSON ONE SHOT - HAPPY BIRTHDAY SAM!

Summary: Sam and Bucky make it back from a mission just in time for Sam's birthday, and let's say you do have things planned despite the objections from Sam.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: none? implied smut, not really. FLUFF! <3

note: not entirely edited. will do, so please excuse mistakes :)

Although it's close to eleven at night and close to Sam's birthday being over, you lean on the kitchen table. Resting your chin in your hands, you stare lovingly at the cake in front of you but sigh sadly. You're not sad or upset at Sam (or Bucky) but you're just feeling down that he's on a mission and that he's not here to get to enjoy his birthday at home with you. Neither of you knew what time or day he'd be back, but inside you knew he'll most likely miss his birthday. So, he told you just last week to not even plan anything and obviously you didn't really listen to him.

There's a few balloons around the apartment, varying of many colors like the amusing red, white and blue, but mostly you had clear balloons filled with confetti to make it fun. You're hoping they don't fall to the ground by the time he gets here - whenever that is. You’re dressed up too. You want to get a rise outta him, make him feel special for the day or night. But as midnight got closer, you’re losing hope that he’s definitely not gonna make it. All you want, all you need is to hug him and celebrate all night with him.

But he had a job to do and this was his life and your life now. He’s a full time superhero, someone who is protecting the world and keeping everyone safe. You’re proud of him, you know he deserves this and everything in the entire world. You believe in him, and he’s incredibly happy he has someone in his life like you. His best friend, his true love.

Taking on the role as the new Captain America was taking a toll on Sam both mentally and physically. The days felt longer when he was gone with Bucky, or when you were at work dreading the entire day and thought of being alone at night in bed without him. It sucked. A lot. But, you're comforted by the fact that he is out there protecting people, saving the day. And every time he's finished a mission, he comes back home to you.

And when you two finally had time alone, things felt right. Sam loved to hold you at night and he loved when you held him. Whether he was cooking for the two of you, or on the couch when watching tv or in the shower after a long day...he loves when you hold on to him. Though you don't know when he's coming home, you're counting down the hours till you see him again.

Pushing yourself off the counter, you grab the box the cake came in and begin to place it carefully inside. Just as you’re about to turn around to walk to the fridge, you freeze as you see the front door open.

"You're here." You let out a tiny gasp, biting back a smile.

"Yeah, I’m home baby.” He smiles, opening his arms for you. The fact that Sam is standing here at home just as his birthday is about to end catches up to you. He’s home and you’re so fucking happy. You practically throw yourself at him, but carefully because you’re sure he’s sore from the mission.

“And I brought this one back with me." He gestures his head behind him and Bucky walks through the door.

"Sorry, didn't mean to-"

"Bucky, you know you never have to apologize or even ask to come here." You tell him as you wave your hands at them. "Come on boys, we've got a birthday to celebrate and cake to eat!"

Bucky smiles wholeheartedly at your words, Sam knocking him in the shoulder as an invite inside the apartment. The last hour of Sam’s birthday is spent by singing happy birthday off key, blowing out the candles and having a casual night. Although it isn’t the ideal birthday you wanted for him, it does make you happy that he’s smiling. Not every mission they go on is easy, you know that, and not every mission they go on is hard either. Tonight, you’re not sure which one it was, but you can tell by just looking at him that he’s relieved and happy to be home with you, and even with Bucky. To be alive for another birthday even if he missed it.

The three of you didn’t do much but talk, listen to Sam’s records and digest a whole lot of cake and some food you threw together. It’s simple, but Sam didn’t mind. All that matters to him is that he’s home.

"Happy birthday, Sam." Bucky pats his shoulder and Sam smiles in appreciation. As you stare at the two, you begin thinking how happy it makes you to see that their relationship has been getting stronger over the last few years. It's special to see them get comfortable and create that bond. Although they never explicitly admit it, they both know their friendship meant a lot to each other.

“Thank you for letting me stay tonight.” Bucky nods at you. “It’s late, so I’m gonna get going. You two better have fun tonight.”

“Damn right,” Sam smirks. “This woman knows how to make a man feel special. Know what I mean Buck?”

He squints, “Not really. But I think I got the idea.”

You laugh from the sink and turn your head around. “Thanks for bringing him home safe. And I’m glad you’re back too. Makes me feel relieved that you guys got each others back out there.”

“I kinda have to, or else I know you’d kill me.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You roll your eyes. “Get home safe, Buck, okay?”

“I’ll be good.”

You glare at him, “Bucky. Get home safe.”

Sam loves that about you, how you care so much for your friends. No matter how long you knew someone, you always care and for them. Bucky sighs then purses his lips, nodding at you and Sam.

“I will.” He smiles one last time and heads out the apartment.

The moment Bucky leaves Sam and yours apartment, you’re instantly wrapping your arms around Sam’s body. He’s sitting on the chair facing in the counter and you’re softly holding his waist. He hums at your touch, shutting his eyes in relief. You feel his breathing slow down as he relaxes in your hold, his heart flutters whenever he makes it home to you.

“I’ve missed you.” He says, letting his hands find yours and holds them.

“I’ve missed you more, birthday boy.” You whisper. “Missed your handsome face.”

You place a soft kiss right under his ear.

“Your smile.”

He feels your lips move to his neck, leaving a few more as you tell him all the things you love and miss about him. Gently, you feathered kisses are going further down his neck and on the side of his jaw.

“Really, Sam, I’ve missed you so goddamn much.”

“You keep that up, you’ll be in the bedroom in a minute.”

“Only a minute? Wow, Sam, that’s a lot.”

“Hey, I just got home from a mission.” He laughs.

“Then I guess tonight I’ll be the one to get you inside. Under a minute.”

Sam snickers at your teasing words, turning around in your grip. It’s his turn now to grab you by the waist and he does so effortlessly. “Come on, let’s get to bed.” On your way to the bedroom, you can’t keep your hands off him. Walking down the hallway and into the room, you kept one hand in his as he led you inside. The other hand is constantly moving from his shoulder and down to his waist and around his lower stomach, trying to tease him. It kinda works, as your hear him groan in frustration. As soon as you enter the room, you kiss him and let your tongue glide over his lips. You open your mouth wider as you feel his tongue slip in yours and smile playing on his face.

You pull away quickly and begin to undress while walking across the room. You let him do the same for the next few minutes, letting him get out of his suit (something he usually always does as soon as he gets home). You watch him unbuckle his suit’s pants and drag down his thick thighs. He then effortlessly takes the jacket off and lazily throws it to the ground, then proceeds to cross his arms and take off his tight black shirt that clings to his body.

“Hey Sam,” you call from him. You stand on your side of the bed, undressed and staring at him intently. His shirt was off, showing his sculpted body and his smooth skin. Usually you’re practically drooling over him, but right now you’re admiring everything about him. The way his tired eyes are lighting up to the way you call his name. He furrows his brows softly, waiting for you to say something.

“I love you.” You bite the inside of your cheek. The two of you have been together for a few years and suddenly it feels like you’re admitting you’re in love with him. So, you tell him just that. “You know, for some reason I’m always so jittery when I tell you I love you. I guess that just means I keep falling in love with you every day and I feel that. I just hope you know that I’m so happy you’re with me. That you put your smooth moves on me that night because I was way too damn nervous. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I really do love you and you deserve everything from the entire world to the galaxy above. Because you, Sam, are just that worth it. Worthy of love, happiness and every goddamn thing you want.”

You feel like you’re rambling, so you stop talking and wait for him to respond.

He looks down to the floor, laughing to himself as his heart pounds against his chest. You’re the only one that’s ever made him fee like that; like a teenager when he talks to a crush, like he’s worth loving and like he feels special. It didn’t need to be his birthday for him to know you love him, or feel special. He feels it every damn day he’s with you, physically or not.

“What?”

“I’m just thinking about,” sam begins to walk around the bed, “how I’m gonna make you Mrs. Wilson and how lucky I’ll be.”

“Sam, stop.” You blush.

“It’s true, and it’s gonna happen. I promise.”

“You know, it’s your damn birthday and I’m the one who’s supposed to make you feel special. Celebrate the damn night with-”

“Ah,” Sam walks forward, bringing you with him in his arms. Your back meets the bedroom wall and you gasp in surprise. “My birthday might be over, but you make me feel special every day. Even when I’m not home, I feel the way you love me. I don’t even need to hope or ask if you feel the same way because I know.”

“I’m glad you know.” You wrap your arms around his neck tightly, pulling you into your grip and lean in to kiss his lips. “I’ll fucking love you forever.”

“I like the way you talk.”

Sam instantly attacks your neck with kisses like you’ve done just moments ago. You feel his hand glide down to your ass and kneads it while moaning into your mouth. You push him off of you after he tries to take your shirt off. He knows exactly what’s about to happen, so he smiles almost arrogantly and nods his head. Walking towards him, you place your hands on his chest and push him onto the bed.

“Happy birthday, baby.” You bite back your excited smile and lean down to kiss him passionately.

---

ON AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/womanwhowritesformany

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elencelebrindal · 3 years

Note

If I'm not mistaken you've now read/watched the three mxtx works and WoH. How would you rank them following personal preference? Which main couple did you like the most? Favorite plot twists in all four?

Yep, I did. I still have to read Faraway Wanderers though. Can't wait to.

This came out to be quite a long post, so I'll put it under the read more thingy.

Now, how would I rank them?

I'll have Tian Guan Ci Fu at the top, no doubts. It's my absolute favorite among all these four, and will probably remain my favorite even after I finally get to read the huge thing that's 2ha. It's the perfect balance of a story with no characters left unexplained (except for the minor ones and RIP Hua Cheng's backstory, why did mxtx rob us so much), of characters being unique all in different ways, and of a romance that, while being absolutely the main focus of the novel, is not overwhelming. For me, an aro/ace person, the romance written in TGCF is so good that it made even me stupidly happy. I don't get such big smiles on my face while reading my own romantic content.

This is the ONLY novel I've ever read that doesn't have a single character I hate in it. Only one, maybe two at most, that I dislike. That's it. Everyone's good. Everyone.

Then I'll definitely have Word of Honor. Just like TGCF, it's a really good balance between an interesting story (I was literally squirming in my seat while impatiently waiting for things to be revealed, enjoying every second of it) and a subtle romance that was still obvious enough to make me wonder what the hell happened with censorship in this drama. Not that I'm complaining though.

Almost all the characters are incredibly good. They have depth to them, all the main ones have either a satisfying backstory or a beautifully crafted development.

And this is it for the ranking. I wrote way more than I should have, but oh well.

After that, it's a tie between Mo Dao Zu Shi and Scum Villain. I don't want to favor one over the other, because I genuinely like them the same. Scum Villain is really underrated, and while I understand it somewhat, it's really unfair.

MDZS (and The Untamed) has a story that draws you to it, especially if you (like me) have an obsession with all things dark and spooky and terrifying like the demonic cultivation in this, like the whole mystery they have to solve with body parts leading them to the solution. The drama, as good as it was, really didn't do justice to the spook factor of using dismembered parts of a corpse to move around.

SVSSS is straight up weird, literally an isekai but make it Chinese. I think the best part of it is Shen Yuan panicking and cussing everyone out every time something happens around him, though... I really loved the story and the way it played out. I especially liked how the novel kept mentioning Proud Immortal Demon Way and compared the events of that book to the events that were happening in that book's world.

But why do I prefer Word of Honor to them? Well, it's simple. There's some aspects of the romance that don't resonate well with me.

WangXian is a beautiful couple, and they deserve all the happiness in the world (they have a canonic son!!!!!!!!), but Wei WuXian's initial obliviousness made me really uncomfortable at times. Not because he didn't know Lan WangJi was in love with him (the fool! thank goodness for Guanyin Temple), but because he kept teasing Lan WangJi about it while the latter was drunk. I mean, I get it. If you don't know, you don't realize what you're doing. But as a person that easily suffers from people making fun of me behind my back... it kinds struck a nerve. I still love them to pieces, though, they're so good together.

BingQiu, well... this is a rollercoaster of a couple. Again, I absolutely love them together, but some parts come off almost as scenes where consent is thrown to the wind. As a reader you know Shen QingQiu is willing and in love (gods, they married each other, I'd be a fool to say the opposite), but there should be a limit to how many times a willing person should say "No" in such a novel. This is mostly me being my aro/ace self, though. I don't really understand what goes on in the world of intimacy between people because I (literally) don't give a fuck, so I'm probably reading too much where there's too little. Don't take this as me not liking BingQiu, I'm in love with them and I desperately need more content.

Favorite plot twists, eh? Okay, big SPOILER ALERT from here onwards. And I mean it. BIG. SPOILER. ALERT.

Now, which main couple did I like the most?

Hualian. I don't even need to think about it. Bonus point because they're both out of their minds and the extras show it.

I said it before, and I'll say it again. I never have smiles so big and goofy in front of anything else, not even my own stuff. Hualian genuinely makes me happy.

Stop reading if you haven't finished all four of these, please.

...

Okay, here I go.

WoH:

Wen KeXing faking his death and telling basically everyone but Zhou ZiShu.

The villain being Zhao Jing; I was actually fooled and thought the main bastard of the series was Gao Chong.

Episode 35, and I'm not saying anything else. Although, as soon as that son of a bitch put his hands on Cao Weining's face like that, I genuinely knew what was going to happen.

The hairpin being the key for the armory. That was so stunning I had to pause the episode for a second and take a walk around the house.

MDZS:

Jin GuangYao being the villain. And being an amazing villain, on top of that.

Nie Huaisang. Fuck's sake, that man fooled the entire fandom just like that. I don't think many people realized he was the one behind everything.

The golden core transplant reveal. I'm sure that more experienced readers and viewers (aka people that had read/watched a ton more cultivation world stuff) had hints of it, but when I watched The Untamed I never read/watched anything remotely close to this genre. It hit me like a brick and I sat in front of the screen in shock.

SVSSS:

Shang QingHua being Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky. It's such a silly thing, but it made me pause for a good five minutes. I wasn't expecting it in the slightest.

The whole thing with the Old Palace Master. The man belongs to the dumpster he never got thrown into.

Tianlang-Jun not actually being the villain. Poor demon, he just wanted to continue with the questionable hobby of reading porn and daydreaming about Shen QingQiu's relationships.

I think I had another one, but it's late and I'm probably forgetting it.

TGCF:

Oh boy, where do I belong? Ah yes, the entirety of book 4. Took me out on the spot.

Jun Wu being Bai WuXiang completely blew me away. That was probably the biggest plot twist in the history of plot twists.

Also, Ling Wen knowing, and her being the creator of the Brocade Immortal.

Fu Yao and Nan Feng being Feng Xin and Mu Qing. For some reason, even if it's kinda obvious when you take a good look at them, it never clicked before being revealed.

On the same note, Ming Yi being He Xuan, and the Earth Master being actually dead. What a ride that arc has been for me.

One of the most important details, however... I got it myself. The ring Hua Cheng gives to Xie Lian. I see so many people saying that they didn't expect the ring to be his ashes, but I did something I generally can't stop myself from doing. I guessed something tremendously important by accident, something I do with many many books so I can ruin the experience for myself. I was literally sitting down, taking a break from reading (I devoured TGCF in 3 days, I needed that break lol), and all of a sudden this goddamn revelation descend upon me like the holy spirit, completely out of the blue. I just sat up, looked at the screen, and went "the ring is is fucking ashes, isn't it?", and completely ruined the surprise for myself.

And this is it.

If there's more I forgot (probably) I don't know. For now, this is my answer. Way too long, as always.

#word of honor #woh #tian guan ci fu #tgcf #heaven official's blessing #svsss #scum villain #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #danmei #mdzs

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knuffled · 3 years

Text

Just Practice - Chapter 14

here’s the latest chapter! hope you all enjoy it! if you could leave a comment, it would mean the world to me! not that many people commented last chapter sadly.

ao3 link for people on mobile

Out of all of Annabeth’s friends, Piper undoubtedly had the largest house. It was a beautiful three story house with a modern minimalist aesthetic, but it somehow also managed to retain a homely atmosphere. As an aspiring architect, Annabeth thought that it was a feast for the eyes, but Piper had never liked it, mainly because her father was hardly ever home. That was ideal for someone like Annabeth, but Piper was a huge extrovert so she found it unbearable having such a huge house to herself. Piper did her best to circumvent that by having friends over whenever possible, a role that usually fell on Jason’s shoulders, but Annabeth had dropped by after school instead to work on a partner project that they had been assigned for their history class.

Piper greeted her at the front door, practically half-asleep. She was wearing pajamas that had smiling cartoon cupcakes printed on them, her choppy hair was thoroughly disheveled, and her eyes were dazed and unfocused. Annabeth was particularly amused by the impression left on her face from sleeping with her cheek pressed against the seams of two sofa cushions.

“You look positively glamorous, darling.”

Piper half-heartedly rolled her eyes and led her to the living room. “Shut up, I was doing hot girl shit.”

“I didn’t know napping qualified as ‘hot girl shit’,” Annabeth said, making air quotes.

“There’s a reason they call it beauty sleep, babe,” Piper said.

They stopped at the living room, and the sight there only made Annabeth’s smirk widen. It was a complete mess, strewn about with empty bags of cheetos, bottles of kombucha, and half-empty oreo trays. Annabeth crossed her arms over her chest and gave Piper a significant look, wondering what sort of excuse she would come up with, but Piper just flipped her off and dove belly first onto the sofa.

“Before you ask, I was too busy to clean,” Piper said, voice muffled by a sofa cushion.

“Busy doing hot girl shit?” Annabeth prompted innocently.

Piper turned her head to glower at her. “You’re such a bitch sometimes.”

Annabeth bit back a smile and lifted a half-empty bottle of kombucha from the coffee table. She gave it a ginger sniff and gagged at the fermented smell.

“I don’t know how you can drink this stuff.”

“It’s good for your digestive system,” Piper said, sighing.

“I hate to break it to you, but I don’t think it’ll be enough to offset the fact that your diet consists solely of flaming hot cheetos and oreos.”

“I’m seriously like ten seconds away from kicking you out of my house,” Piper warned.

Annabeth laughed and said, “Alright, alright, I assume that means you’re ready to start working on the project then?”

Piper groaned into the sofa and forced herself to sit upright. “You’re an absolute menace.”

Annabeth rummaged through her backpack for her laptop and the project rubric instead of looking at her. “I love you, too.”

Piper sighed melodramatically and cleared the coffee table of its aforementioned debris so that they had a place to work. They spent nearly two hours researching content for their project, and Annabeth was happy with the amount of work they were able to get done. For all their bickering, she and Piper had always made an excellent team, and this project was no exception. That being said, by the end of the two hour mark, Piper was beginning to burn on fumes.

“God, why on fucking earth did I ever think taking AP Euro my senior year was a good idea,” Piper groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Spring break can’t come soon enough.”

“It’s still over a month away,” Annabeth laughed. “We could take a break if you’d like.”

Piper looked up at her abruptly with wide eyes. “Who are you and what have you done with Annabeth?”

Annabeth rolled her eyes and said, “We got a lot of work done, so it’s fine if we chill a bit.”

Piper pressed a kiss to Annabeth’s cheek before she could react and beamed at her. “Want something to eat? I’m getting hungry.”

Annabeth scowled and rubbed her cheek. “Uh, do you still have Oreos?”

“Of course, I do,” Piper grinned. “I’m not a heathen.”

“Milk?”

Piper pretended to wipe a tear from her eye. “Oh, Annabeth, I am so proud of you.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” Annabeth laughed, shoving her.

Piper danced to the kitchen and came back a short while later with a fresh box of oreos and two glasses of milk. Annabeth’s step-mother was a health nut, so they never had junk food at home. She also had to adhere to a strict-ish diet because she was an athlete, so this was the first time in literal years that Annabeth had had the chance to eat an oreo.

“These are a lot better than I remember,” Annabeth said.

“You’re goddamn right. Oreos are gods gift to humanity,” Piper said.

Annabeth smiled. “Now, I wouldn’t go that far.”

“So ungrateful,” Piper sniffed. “You can get sent to hell for that sort of thing you know?”

“For not being obsessed with oreos?” Annabeth laughed.

“For having bad taste,” Piper said, giving her a significant look.

“Guilty as charged,” Annabeth sighed. “I mean, I’m friends with you after all.”

Piper groaned and shoved her. “Bitch.”

“You started it,” Annabeth laughed. “I was just enjoying my oreos in peace.”

“I have been nothing but a gracious host, and yet you come into my house and insult me and my all time favorite snack for good measure,” Piper said, shaking her head. “This is why whites don’t deserve rights.”

Annabeth raised her glass of milk. “I’ll drink to that.”

“Sometimes, I honestly wonder how Percy puts up with you.”

“Easy, he’s a lot nicer than you, so I don’t feel the need to sass him,” Annabeth said, shrugging.

“Sounds fake, but okay.”

“You’re just in denial,” Annabeth teased.

Piper rolled her eyes and said, “How is he doing by the way? I haven’t talked to him lately, but I know State is around the corner.”

“He’s doing okay, I think,” Annabeth said. “I haven’t really asked him about it.”

“No Valentine’s Day plans, I’m assuming?” Piper asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Nah, I don’t want to break his concentration,” Annabeth said, shaking her head. “How about you and Jason? Got a hot date lined up or something?”

“We were just thinking of getting dinner some place nice,” Piper said, shrugging.

“So that means Taco Bell is a no, then?” Annabeth asked, grinning.

“Very funny,” Piper said, narrowing her eyes. “I think we’re going to some Japanese place downtown or something.”

“Hmm, sushi sounds nice.”

Piper shook her head and said, “It’s honestly impressive how you somehow always forget that I’m vegetarian, even after all these years.”

Annabeth’s face turned pink. “Oh, right, sorry.”

Piper knocked elbows with her instead of saying anything and reached for another cookie. Annabeth watched her dunk the cookie in her glass of milk a little too vigorously, causing some of it to spill onto her pajama bottoms, and couldn’t help imagining how Jason would have chided her for it if he had been here. It was still endlessly bemusing to her how two people so diametrically unlike one another had so much romantic chemistry together.

“You ever think about how wild it is that you and Jason have been together for four years now?” Annabeth asked.

Piper laughed and said, “Definitely have a lot more since graduation is coming up soon. It’s pretty insane to me too.”

“What’s your secret, oh wise one,” Annabeth asked teasingly.

Piper rolled her eyes and said, “We just communicate really well, ever since day one. Neither of us hide anything from each other. If we are bothered by something, we talk about it. Sometimes that means we get into fights, but it’s still better than bottling everything up.”

Annabeth’s heart squeezed a little in her chest. In contrast, she and Percy hardly ever spoke openly anymore. The weight of all the things they had both left unsaid had snowballed and taken on a line of its own. She didn’t think it had brewed into bitterness, but it felt like ice on the surface of a pond. Shallow and liable to break at any moment.

“We also just genuinely like each other too,” Piper said. “There’s no way we would have lasted if we hated each other’s guts or got bored of each other. Kind of the opposite honestly. The more I got to know him, the harder I fell for him.”

“How could you tell?” Annabeth asked. “Was there a specific moment you realized or something?”

Piper hummed under her breath and stared up at the ceiling. “Hard to say. It wasn’t anything big or dramatic, just little things piling on top of each other, until one day, I just knew. Kind of like getting taller or falling asleep. You don’t notice it when it happens only when you look back.”

When Annabeth was silent, Piper continued and said, “I will say that the first time I can remember consciously thinking it was after a meet sophomore year. Don’t remember how it went, but I can still picture how he looked after the race. He was all gross and sweaty and caked with mud, but his cheeks were pink from all the running and it just made him glow. And at that moment, I just remember thinking ‘Wow, I’m actually in love with this guy.’”

There was something about the way Piper spoke that even Annabeth could hear how much she loved him just by her tone, that it made a lump form in Annabeth’s throat.

“I’m so happy for you two,” Annabeth said softly. “You are both two of the most amazing people I have ever met, so I’m glad you are together.”

Piper laughed and said, “It’s weird to hear you pay me a compliment, but thanks.”

“After that shameless display of ungratefulness, I would suggest you don’t get used to it,” Annabeth said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Piper rolled her eyes and sank back into the sofa. “Is there something going on with you?”

Annabeth furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

“You tend to ask lots of questions when you’re upset about something,” Piper said, shrugging.

Annabeth blinked. She had no idea that she did that.

“Nothing in particular,” Annabeth said carefully. “Just wanted to hear from someone that’s been in a relationship for four years. I’m still new to it, and I don’t want to fuck everything up.”

“Learn anything useful then?” Piper asked, raising an eyebrow.

Annabeth was quiet for a while and tried to choose her words carefully. “The part about communicating was helpful.”

Piper gave her a knowing smile. “Really? Well, I’m glad to hear that.”

“I feel like it was easier when we were only friends,” Annabeth said.

“Hmm, Percy was just doing a lot of work behind the scenes for you to make you feel that way. Now that you’re in a relationship, it’s harder for him to do that, so it’s only exposing issues that were already there,” Piper said.

Annabeth frowned. “What do you mean?”

Piper shrugged and said, “Well, part of it is that Percy is stupidly empathetic, so he would anticipate your emotional needs and provide for them with you having to do much. The bigger problem is that you don’t really understand the way he thinks, so you are incapable of doing the same for him.”

A spark of anger lit in Annabeth’s chest. “Well, why don’t you spell it out for me since I’m apparently so ignorant?”

“Annabeth, chill. I’m not saying you’re a bad friend or that I know more about him than you do,” Piper said, holding her hands up in surrender.

“Then what are you saying?” Annabeth hissed.

Piper sighed again and said, “Look, I love you and everything, but you don’t fully understand that other people don’t think or see the world in the same way you do. I’ll give you an example. What do you usually do when you’re really upset about something?”

After a moment, Annabeth said, “I give myself some space until I am ready to talk about it.”

“Exactly,” Piper said, nodding. “Percy is not like that. When he’s upset, he wants someone to press him about it, like really press him. There are a lot of reasons for it, but one huge reason is that he doesn’t feel like his problems are worth anyone else’s attention, so you have to convince him otherwise.”

Annabeth was stunned. That had legitimately never occurred to her. She had always assumed that Percy would come to her if he needed to because that’s what she did whenever she was upset. She whenever she had given him space in the past, thinking it would help, it had looked like callous silence to him instead, a sign that she didn’t care enough to hear what was going on.

Her mind raced. How many times in the past had she fucked up monumentally because this had never occurred to her?

“Do you get what I mean now?” Piper prompted.

Annabeth nodded slowly and said, “I- I had no idea. I just sort of assumed he was like me.”

“That’s a perfectly normal thing to do,” Piper said. “Like I said earlier, I’m not telling you this because I think you’re a shitty human being or whatever. I’m telling you because the way that you and Percy communicate has some really deep, fundamental issues, and that it has been that way for years now.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything sooner?” Annabeth asked, trying not to let anger creep in her voice. “I could have done so much more to avoid hurting him.”

“Because you wouldn’t have listened to me,” Piper said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Your relationship with Percy is something sacred to you. You take pride in being close to him and knowing him really well. If I had said something contrary to that, you would have gone ballistic. You getting mad earlier was more than enough proof of that. I can only tell you now because you’re finally starting to notice issues for yourself.”

Annabeth grit her teeth and stared down at her lap. Piper was right. She was right, but it was so crippling to hear that Annabeth had been such a god-awful friend. Annabeth did take great pride in how well she thought she knew Percy, but ever since they had started fake-dating, she had started realizing she had deluded herself the entire time. It was incredibly jarring for her to realize that her vision of him compared to reality was so off, especially when she prided herself in the keenness of her judgment and intellect.

Piper squeezed her shoulder and said, “Look, I know this must have been a lot for you to hear, but you’re not alone. Almost everyone has trouble seeing people distinctly, as they are. People like Percy who do it naturally are the rare ones.”

“Then what should I do?” Annabeth asked tersely. “I feel so stuck.”

“Don’t assume so much. If you’re upset, tell him. If you want him to open up, ask him to. The only way to know what’s on his mind is to ask him. You don’t have to try so hard to read his mind for him,” Piper explained.

Annabeth nodded curtly and said, “I’m just so mad at myself.”

“I get it, but it’s not all on you. Percy also shoulders some responsibility, but it’s hard to blame him. Lord knows how much he has done for us,” Piper mused. “Besides, he has his own issues that he needs to deal with.”

“I-I’ll do what I can,” Annabeth said.

“If it’s you, I think you can do it,” Piper said, smiling softly.

As nice as it was to hear that, Annabeth had no self-confidence in her ability to be a good friend, not anymore. Still, Piper was right. Percy had done so much for her. If this could help him somehow, then she was determined to do her best.

After a few more minutes of silence, Piper said, “We should probably get back to the project.”

Annabeth smiled despite herself and feigned wiping a tear from her eye. “I never thought I’d live to hear the day you’d say that.”

:::

In keeping with tradition, Annabeth still somehow managed to find a way to be late to the State Swimming Championship. It was held at a neighboring high school not far from Westwood, but she had stayed up all night the day before painting a sign for Percy, which led to her sleeping through her alarm. She had brushed her teeth and taken as quick a shower as she possibly could before dashing out of her house, sign tucked beneath her arm.

By the time she made it inside, the first heat was already over. Annabeth scanned the bleachers and found all her friends sitting next to Sally. She took the steps three at a time and took a moment to catch her breath before she took a seat between Sally and Piper.

“Where’s Estelle?” Annabeth asked.

“Paul took her to go back some snacks at the concession stand. How have you been, dear?” Sally asked.

“I’m good. School is getting busy, but I’m getting by,” Annabeth said. “How’s Percy doing?”

“He seemed ready. Cautious, but focused,” Sally said.

“That’s good to hear,” Annabeth said.

Estelle and Paul returned with bags of snacks for everyone. They passed them around to all of Percy’s friends and squeezed past to sit next to Sally. Estelle was thrilled to see Annabeth and threw her arms around her neck.

“Annabeth!” Estelle squealed.

Annabeth laughed and hugged her back. “How have you been, Stella?”

“Good! I just lost a tooth last night. See?” Estelle said, giving Annabeth a toothy smile.

“Wow, did you get a visit from the tooth fairy?” Annabeth asked.

Estelle nodded vigorously. “I got five whole dollars!”

“What are you going to spend it on?”

“She used her money to buy snacks for everyone,” Paul interjected.

“Daddy!” Estelle huffed.

Paul held his palms up in surrender. “Oh, sorry, she told me not to tell anyone about that.”

“Thanks, Stella!” Annabeth said, smiling. “She’s a good kid.”

“She is,” Paul said proudly. “It’s the Jackson genes, I’m telling you.”

“Oh, hush,” Sally said, though she looked pleased anyways.

Paul grinned at her and turned to Annabeth. “It’s been a while since we have had time to catch up, Annabeth. I heard you got into Berkeley! That’s amazing!”

“Yeah, thank you,” Annabeth said, hiding a smile.

“It’s a wonderful school. I’m sure you’ll love it,” Paul said.

Annabeth was about to thank him, but they were interrupted by an announcement that the next heat was to begin for men’s free style. The State tournament was different compared to other tournaments held during the regular season. There would be a preliminary round of ten heats of six swimmers each, and then the top six swimmers would be selected based off their times to participate in a final round. The winner of the final would win the entire competition. It was therefore possible to have the best time in the prelims and still lose if someone placed higher than you in the last round. Annabeth had never been a fan of the way the tournament was run, but there was nothing anyone could do about it.

Percy was going to be in the penultimate heat, so there was still time before he participated. In fact, he wasn’t even out of the locker room yet. Annabeth knew that he was staying inside to maintain his focus until the start of his heat. She recognized one of his teammates that was in the next heat, so she paid attention to him even though it was hard to feel interested.

After the heat began, Annabeth was once again reminded of how much fiercer the competition was at State compared to the other meets. Percy hadn’t competed against many of the swimmers here because they lived on the other side of the state. It might have been a function of the fact that it was her first time seeing some of them, but the competition looked stronger this year than it had in previous ones. They were so skilled that Annabeth wasn’t sure Percy was a shoe-in for first like she had initially thought.

There was one swimmer in particular from the sixth heat, Castellan, that was particularly scary. The effortless, graceful way he swam reminded her a lot of Percy’s form, and he managed to win his heat by a wide margin. She had never seen him before in any of the other meets or from previous years either. He must have moved to the State sometime this season. Nevertheless, it sowed a seed of worry in her mind that continued to take deeper root even after his heat ended.

Eventually, Percy finally made his way out when his heat was announced. Annabeth was relieved to see the familiar cold intensity on his face that she was accustomed to. After the last meet, she had been afraid that his focus would still be shaky when State finally rolled around, but instead Percy looked more focussed now than she had ever seen him before. Everything about him gave off the impression that he was going to win.

When his heat finally began, Percy dove into the water clinically and quickly pulled ahead of the competition. Annabeth and the rest of their friends cheered loudly for him as he touched off the other side of the pool, almost a full body’s length ahead of the person in second. The rest of the race only solidified Percy’s lead as he pulled further and further ahead.

Once he touched the opposite wall, Percy burst out of the water and took a moment to catch his breath, but then he looked over to the opposite end of the pool and pressed his lips in a thin line. Annabeth was confused at first because his time was fantastic, and he had done so well in his heat, but then she realized his time had been slower than that swimmer from the sixth heat. Although it wasn’t an indication of how the finals would go, it was still damaging to realize that someone had done better than you in the prelims.

Annabeth worried her lip and turned to Piper when she felt her hand on her shoulder. “Why does he look so annoyed?” Piper whispered.

“That guy from the sixth heat, Castellan, had a better time than he did,” Annabeth muttered.

Piper blinked and looked back down at Percy. “Wait, really?”

Annabeth nodded. “Yeah. It’s not the end of the world or anything, but it’s gonna pile some extra pressure onto his shoulders.”

“He’ll be fine,” Jason ventured, from beside Piper. “If he keeps his cool, he can put up a good fight. Besides, I don’t think their times were off by a lot.”

“True,” Annabeth agreed. “It would have been a lot worse if it was a blowout.”

“There’s a break before the finals start right?” Hazel asked, speaking across from Jason.

Piper looked at the meet schedule and nodded. “Yeah, there’s a half hour to give the competitors from the later heats time to rest before the finals.”

“Should we go see him or something?” Hazel asked.

Jason shook his head and said, “No, there’s a chance that we just make him lose focus. Besides, there nothing we can really say to help him.”

“Well, that fucking sucks,” Rachel huffed.

Hazel nudged Rachel with her elbow and whispered, “Don’t swear! Estelle is here.”

Rachel winced and said to Sally, “Sorry, Mrs. Jackson.”

Sally gave her a mischievous smile and said, “You should be, dear.”

That got a laugh out of all of them, much to Estelle’s confusion. They talked amongst themselves during the break before Annabeth realized she needed to run to the bathroom. Annabeth wasn’t gone long, but on her way back, she ran into someone walking the other way.

“Ouch.”

Annabeth stumbled back and rubbed her shoulder. “Sorry, are you okay?”

“Oh, hey, look who it is,” Percy said, smiling down at her.

“Oh, hey,” Annabeth said, blinking. “I was just coming back from the bathroom.”

Percy laughed and said, “Yeah, I kind of figured.”

There was an awkward pause where Annabeth debated if she should continue talking to him or if that would break his focus. His body language was relaxed, but Annabeth could tell that there was some tension in his shoulders. The way he lingered there gave her the impression that he wanted to talk to her, so she figured it was alright to say something.

“How are you doing?”

Percy coughed and looked away surreptitiously. “Fine.”

Annabeth crossed her arms over her chest. “You don’t look fine to me.”

Percy blinked like he was surprised she had called him out. In the past, Annabeth would have ignored the signs under the assumption that he didn’t want to talk about it, but after her conversation with Piper, she didn’t want to keep making those mistakes anymore.

Eventually, Percy sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Did you get a chance to see that Castellan guy from the sixth heat?”

Annabeth nodded and said, “Yeah, he seemed pretty good.”

“His time was pretty insane,” Percy said slowly. “Better than my PR.”

“It wasn’t that far off though,” Annabeth said, leaning against the wall.

Percy rubbed his chin. “That’s true.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I would say you don’t think you can beat him,” Annabeth said softly.

Percy looked up at her abruptly with wide eyes. “Uh...”

“Guilty as charged, huh?”

There was a pause before Percy laughed humorlessly and ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know. Usually, I never think about that sort of thing at meets. I’m only focused on doing my best. But now, I can’t help wondering if my best would even be enough.”

“I wish I could be super peppy and say that it definitely is, but I’ve had those thoughts too many times to say that to you. It would feel fake and you’d know it,” Annabeth started.

“That’s not exactly making me feel better,” Percy joked half-heartedly.

“Shut up, I was getting to it,” Annabeth said, knocking elbows with him.

Percy made a show of rubbing his elbows, which made her roll her eyes before she continued.

“Remember how you told me after the invitational that I had to believe that I hadn’t hit my limit yet, that I could still do better? I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately, and I’m realizing that you were right. I’m killing any chance of improving if I believe it can’t be done. At the end of the day, I still want to keep competing, so I might as well believe in myself and keep trying.”

Percy was silent at this, so Annabeth continued. “My point is, you’ve gotta have faith in yourself. If that guy is better than you, make him prove it. Don’t do that work for him. You’re an insanely good swimmer. I know you can beat him. That’s not me saying that as a friend, but as another athlete. I know you have what it takes. Only question is: do you?”

“It’s not that I don’t think I’m good,” Percy said. “If it was just me, I wouldn’t be so worried, but so many people have put so much effort and faith in me that I can’t let them down. Like, I’ve always disappointed people, all my life, and there’s a voice in my head that tells me this time won’t be any different.”

“Fuck everyone else,” Annabeth said vehemently. “The people that care about you just want you to try your best.”

When Percy remained silent, Annabeth framed his face with her hands and forced him to meet her eyes. “Listen to me: all you have to do is go out there and swim. Nothing else matters. Okay?”

Percy was quiet for a while before he nodded slowly. “Okay.”

“You got this,” Annabeth said, squeezing his shoulders. “Give ‘em hell, Perce.”

“I will. Thanks, Annabeth,” Percy said, smiling. “I’ll see you after the finals are over?”

“I thought that went without saying,” Annabeth grinned. “There’s a chocolate milkshake from Martha’s with your name on it, after all.”

“Finally, something worth fighting for,” Percy sighed melodramatically.

Annabeth laughed and pushed him towards the locker room. “Alright, get going, champ. I’ll see you on the other side.”

Percy took a deep breath to steel himself and gave her one final nod before he made for the locker rooms. Annabeth waited for him to leave before she headed back to the bleachers. Piper gave her a questioning look as she sat down, as if to ask what took her so long, but Annabeth shrugged and remained silent.

The participants of the final heat left the locker room shortly after and stood in front of the pool. Percy’s lane was in the middle, right next to Castellan, from the sixth heat, but he looked composed and concentrated.

The swimmers stepped onto the diving boards and took their starting positions, bodies taut with anticipation. At the official’s whistle, they all dove into the water in unison. Percy and the other boy both quickly pulled ahead of the other four swimmers, but Percy lagged behind him ever so slightly. Annabeth leaned forward, forgetting to cheer, and worried her lower lip. She could tell Percy was trying to surge ahead of Castellan, but no matter what he did, the distance continued to remain unclosed for the first hundred meters.

Before they both touched off the wall for the final fifty meters, Percy seemed to lag further behind than he had all race. Annabeth’s heart sank, but somehow Percy surged forward on the last twenty meters and managed to pull alongside Castellan. At the end of the race, it was too close to tell who had won because they both appeared to finish at the same time.

Annabeth whipped towards the board on the far end of the pool and waited for the times to show, heart thundering in her chest. The subsequent seconds stretched like an eternity, but then numbers suddenly flickered on the board. It took Annabeth a second to process the results, but once she did, her heart soared in her chest.

Percy had won, but it had been unbelievably close.

Immediately, she looked back down for Percy and noticed the incredulous look on his face. It took his teammates tackling him for him to realize that he had won, a dumbfounded smile blossoming across his face. Annabeth clasped her hands in front of her mouth and tried to ignore the way her face hurt from smiling so hard. She could hear Piper and the rest of her friends going crazy beside her, but the noise felt distant like sound traveling through water.

They all made their way down to him, and Estelle and Paul were the first to speak to him before Sally pulled him into a fierce hug with misty eyes. After that, Piper jumped on his back and cheered while Jason congratulated him. Rachel and Hazel went next, followed by Frank and Leo, and through it all, Annabeth watched off to the side and tried not to tear up.

She felt so incredibly proud of him. All those years of grueling practice, nights spent staying late to get in extra laps at the pool, managing the pressure of his captaincy - all of it had paid off in the end, and she was so happy it had. He deserved all of it.

Finally, Percy locked eyes with her and slipped out of the arms of their other friends and wordlessly opened his arms. Annabeth didn’t even realize she was moving until she tackled him in a hug. He was still sopping wet from the race, so her shirt got wet but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Annabeth buried her face in the crook of his neck and squeezed Percy as tightly as she could.

It was hard to say how long they stayed like that, but eventually, she pulled away from his arms and looked up at him with a stupid grin on her face. “You did it! I’m so happy for you!”

Percy offered her an incredulous smile. “Somehow.”

“Shut up, you deserved to win. One hundred percent,” Annabeth said, poking his chest.

Percy’s ears turned red, and he tried to look away from her. “It was all thanks to a certain someone’s pep talk.”

“You’re giving me too much credit,” Annabeth said, but her heart felt ten times larger in her chest anyways.

“Seriously, I was really freaking out,” Percy said earnestly. “So thank you. Seriously.”

Annabeth bit back a smile. “You’re welcome. Seriously.”

“You never make things easy for me, do you,” Percy said, sighing melodramatically.

“Of course not,” Annabeth said. “I thought you would have figured that out after all these years.”

Percy shrugged. “What can I say? I’m a slow learner.”

“At least you’re not a slow swimmer,” Annabeth teased.

Percy rolled his eyes and said, “So what next? Martha’s?”

“You sure you want to celebrate with me and not your family?” Annabeth asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh don’t worry about that,” Percy laughed. “I know they’ll monopolize me later today. But first, I want that chocolate milkshake you promised me.”

Annabeth bit the inside of her cheek and tried not to get carried away by what he was saying. Still, she couldn’t help the feeling of exhilaration washing over her.

“Alright, Martha’s it is,” Annabeth said. “Go finish your shower and get dressed. I’ll be waiting for you.”

Percy nodded and left to tell his family their plans and to say goodbye to the rest of their friends, who were getting ready to leave. Piper gave her a knowing look on her way out, but Annabeth made a show of pointedly ignoring her.

A short while later, Percy met her at the entrance to the parking lot, his hair still wet from the shower. They drove to Martha’s in silence, only accompanied by the feeble radio in her dad’s car. The sun was just beginning to set, diffusing pink and blue across the spread of the horizon. At that proximity, Percy smelled distractingly of body wash, making Annabeth’s face prickle.

“I meant what I said earlier, you know?” Percy said, breaking the silence.

Annabeth glanced at him. “Hmm?”

“What you told me really helped,” Percy said.

“You’re being too nice,” Annabeth said.

“No, seriously, I was pretty sure I was gonna lose. Like on the last hundred meters, I kept thinking that it was only natural that I would let everyone down again, but then I heard your voice in my head, saying ‘All you have to do is go out there and swim’. I don’t know how or why, but that got me out of my own head and helped me win,” Percy explained.

Annabeth’s throat was dry. “I’m, uh, glad it helped.”

She caught his soft smile in the mirror. “Yeah, me too.”

“It’ll be your turn in April,” he said. “You’ll win State too, and then I’ll have to be the one buying milkshakes next time around.”

“Damn straight,” Annabeth said. “I can’t rest until I kick Reyna’s ass.”

“I can’t tell if you hate her or adore her,” Percy said, smirking.

“A little of both,” Annabeth admitted. “People that have never lost once in their lives piss me off, but Reyna’s a good person and fun to be around.”

“I did beat her at the batting cages,” Percy pointed out.

“Doesn’t count unless I’m the one doing it,” Annabeth said, shaking her head.

Percy’s grin grew wider before he turned away from her, making Annabeth scowl. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing, I just thought that was a very ‘Annabeth’ thing to say,” Percy said, shrugging.

“Is that a good or a bad thing?”

“Hmm, I wonder,” Percy said, still grinning.

“Asshole,” Annabeth huffed.

There was a lull in the conversation while Annabeth began to turn something over in her mind. At first, it had seemed like a stupid idea, but the more that she thought about it, the more she wanted to go for it.

“H-Hey, I know you said you’d get me a milkshake if I won and all, but is it cool if I ask for something else instead?” Annabeth asked, fingers curling tighter around the steering wheel.

“Your wish is my command, your majesty.”

“Shut up, I’m being serious,” Annabeth laughed.

“Sure, I don’t see why not,” Percy said, shrugging. “What did you want instead?”

Annabeth swallowed and said, “I’ll let it be a surprise for now. Just promise not to chicken out when the time comes.”

“You’re not gonna ask me to like run around school naked or something right?” Percy asked, raising an eyebrow.

Annabeth barked a laugh. “Tempting, but no.”

Percy hummed to himself for a while before he sighed and said, “Well, I suppose I’ll just have to trust you not to make me do something embarrassing.”

“Don’t worry so much. I promise it’s not that bad. Just wanted to ask you something. Besides, there’s no guarantee that I’ll even win, after all,” Annabeth said.

Percy yawned and curled up in his seat and closed his eyes. “I don’t know, I’m pretty certain you’ll win.”

Annabeth glanced at him. “Yeah? What makes you say that?”

“Dunno, I just believe in you,” Percy said simply.

Annabeth bit the inside of her cheek and resisted the urge to tell him that he was making a mistake. Honestly, she didn’t think she had a snowball’s chance in hell of beating Reyna at State, but she would still try her best to repay Percy’s faith in her. As a fellow athlete, he wouldn’t say something like that just to be nice. If he thought she had a shot, then maybe he was seeing something in her that she couldn’t.

The sky continued to darken, and Annabeth found herself thinking that even if she couldn’t believe in herself, maybe she could believe in how much Percy believed in her instead.

#just practice #percabeth fake dating au #percabeth #percabeth fic #percy jackson #annabeth chase #i'm really happy with this chapter #hopefully people think the character work is as nuanced as it feels to me #i will give u my first born if you comment and reblog

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ohheyitsokay · 3 years

Note

congrats you angel, you deserve all the love and praise for your writing bc holy shit you’re so talented!!! for the soulmate au celebration, i’m thinking either javi or jack (your choice bc i can’t choose) with the soulmate goose of enforcement au 💕 ik it’s a bizarre au but the potential for chaos is insane 😂 anyways ily and i hope you’re having a great day honey

...not me, having JUST reread your javi/jack fic, considering both... definitely me

Anyway, thank you, jj, you absolute gem of a human. I swear I had to turn up the fan reading this I got so flustered. I hope you have a great day too! And I hope you enjoy- I had to do a little research, and made it shorter than I wanted to, so hopefully it fills your chaos cup still! (You'll understand, and hopefully forgive my delay when you see what's under the cut :) )

wordcount: 2.5k

warnings: strong language, lil angst with happy endings all around. mild menace meeting menace shenanigans

Okay this is written as pt 1 Jav, pt 1 Jack, pt 2 Jav, pt 2 Jack, bonus pt 3. If you’re only in it for one of the boys, it makes reading a bit weird, but I liked the format for the whole thing. Sorry!

Javier wanted to hit it with a bat. Or a car. Or anything. All that mattered is that maybe then it would leave him the fuck alone. Of all the stupid, infuriating, ridiculous guides the universe could have given him to find his other half, he was sure this was the worst. Rumor was, he couldn't even kill it if he tried.

It's not that he didn't want to find his soulmate, but he... well, he didn't want to find his soulmate.

There were all sorts of excuses to spout - work, obviously a priority, inconvenience, not wanting to give up his way of life. Not to mention following a damn goose was an impossible task, plus the fact that the stupid thing didn't even like him.

It would appear seemingly at random, honking insistently or flapping erratically, and then be gone before anyone else could bat an eye. To say that he had become increasingly irritated would have been a huge understatement.

The truth of it was that Javier was afraid. No one in the world liked to feel like they were being controlled. People liked to know what was going on, and this just didn't fit the bill. He didn't like that he didn't know you, couldn't be chosen, by you.

His life was already complicated enough - messy enough - that a soulmate would only make it worse. He had made it this long, this far without needing one, so he was fine without, thank you very much. Even to himself, his lie sounded okay.

It was hard to face, the idea that there was someone out there, a relationship that he couldn't have control over. And someone who would love him unconditionally? Terrifying.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t allowed to do nothing, because it seemed like every direction he turned there was a goose from hell wreaking havoc on his life.

They had reached an impasse - glowering at each other as it had planted itself in front of his door. Little feet pacing angrily, unreasonably long neck, all of it was just begging to be kicked. Except, for all he was a seasoned DEA agent, Javier was almost afraid the thing could go a few rounds with him. Feet shuffling uneasily, his hand twitched for his gun, even though he knew he couldn’t, wouldn’t shoot.

It was stupid to have a staring contest with a goose. And even more stupid that the goose won .

Javier turned away, spitting spanish curses in a stream that would make his mama smack him. Maybe it wasn't too late to find a hookup he could use to crash, he was thinking, and that thought was apparently the final straw. The goose reappeared in front of him.

Hissing.

More curses, a quick turn on his heel. This time, it didn't move in front of him, it left a sharp peck on his calf, before dodging his kick.

It was herding him, against his will, to you.

When he saw the goose, Jack thought he was delirious. The Statesman lab must've screwed something up because he'd seen that horrible, wonderful, stupid goose once before, in another life.

And he never, ever thought he'd see it again.

He did a lot of thinking, that night and the next day and the next. Strangely, he did a lot of feeling, too, noticing how light his shoulders felt, how kind the ache on his heart had become. He visited their grave, pressed his forehead to the headstone, and breathed some deep breaths.

And when he saw the goose again, he lassoed it.

It wouldn't have died even if it was powered up, but he didn't take the chance, determination and longing filling his being like blood, pumping through his heart to each and every part of him.

Miracle of miracles, it let him, with all the glare a bird could give. Knees only making small pops, Jack settled on his heels, looking at it sternly.

"Can you take me to them?"

The expression on it's tiny, smug face didn't change, but it also didn't disappear to free itself, so he waited.

And he waited. And waited. And eventually, watching it with half an eye, he grabbed a doughnut and offered it to the stupid soulmate goose god.

It considered the doughnut, pecked it as Jack yanked his fingers out of reach, and apparently accepted. After it was finished, it began to tug him along, waddling on its makeshift leash as Jack's heart leapt into his throat. He grabbed the bag of doughnuts and his hat before getting dragged along, to you.

At his very core, Javier was a man driven by his personal sense of justice. Being herded by an immortal goose of mischief was unfair, it made no sense that he had to find you, somehow needed more, and wasn't allowed to choose. It pecked and honked and bullied him all the way to a crowded bar, which was a perfect example.

Just as he was thinking, trying to convince himself he would've come here on his own, it disappeared again and he sighed.

He needed a drink. And, he needed to make some of his own goddamn decisions. Defiance and determination, he told himself. Not stubbornness. There was nothing to prove, it was just defiance and determination, to take his fate into his own hands and make his own choices. And if he was going to do that, he wanted to look for someone who wasn't an informant or a one night stand. His gut was looking for someone he could pull to his side and to show the universe that the goose was right to give up on him.

You were a perfect fit. Slightly disgruntled for whatever reason, even through the crowd he could see the faint, telltale wrinkles of someone just as... determined as he was. Shoulders held the same defiance he was so proud of, and he would be lying if he wasn't physically drawn to you as well. The inconsistent lighting could make anyone look good if you wanted it enough, but you... were something else.

There was a line of pink neon reflection from the top of your ear, across your cheekbone, and just grazing the line of your upper lip as you looked thoughtfully at something he couldn't see. Javier thought he wouldn't mind tracing that path with his fingers, and then maybe his own mouth, and his feet were already carrying him to you to look for an open door. The rest of your form came into view, and Javier noticed the bass of the music was turned up a little bit more than necessary- he could feel it thumping in his bones.

Talking to you went smoother than maybe it ever had before. You seemed resigned, at first, which was a reaction that caught him off guard, and that combined with the weariness of his week, making him unusually candid. In turn, you opened up to him like a flower turning towards the sun, fun and thoughtful and refreshing.

He liked the way you laughed when his lines came out a little awkwardly - open and appreciative, and it made his chest puff out a little. He liked the way you spoke, too. There was kindness and romance in your soul, just whispering at the edges of the words, and while he didn’t pick up on that, per se, they made him feel special, handsome, worthy, but also trusted and comfortable and safe. Neither of you noticed at first, that you had shuffled into a quiet corner of the bar, that his body had moved close, a gentle shield boxing the two of you into your own little world.

When the question came - what brought you here, anyway? - he found himself answering honestly about half being led by his guide, then wanting to make his own path. His confidence faltered at your quiet laugh. His heart ached. A glance at the clock told him it had been two hours since he'd found you, and already he wanted to... choose you. To have you choose him.

He felt stupid that he had confessed so soon, but...

Oh, you were kissing him. There were hands shooting off sparks into his soul against his chest and his jaw and you were kissing him. Javier kissed you back.

When you pulled away, his mouth chased yours, not ready to give up the contact so soon, but you stopped him, laughing again.

"I have a confession," you whispered, and he paused.

“My guide led me here, too. I thought when it gave up on me when I saw you,” your next kiss was more chaste, “I think we got tricked.” Noticing he liked the feel of you in his arms, even if he didn’t remember pulling you there, he tightened his hold.

Javier felt light, understanding your laughter, and blissfully unafraid. “No,” he said, knowing already you’d understand him.

“I chose you.”

Jack was running out of doughnuts. It was easier, safer to have the dumb bird half hog-tied, but he still didn’t feel any closer to you, just halfway across town. He dug in his boots and sunk onto a bench, yanking the goose to a stop, too annoyed to beg for a break.

He wasn’t giving up and running away, absolutely not, he was just... running out of options. Or, doughnuts. And breath. If this pace kept up, he wouldn’t be able to tell you all the things he had planned out in his head.

Eyelids closing against the southern sun, he let out a long, slow sigh. His heart was still racing, and he wondered if he was really as ready as he wanted to be, to meet his next soulmate. A sturdier inhale grounded him. He was ready, he knew he was. Whoever you were, you had to have the patience of a saint - it would be alright, he just needed a breath. The ground under his boots was sturdy, the breeze over his skin cooling, and the goose was mercifully quiet.

“That’s one strange lookin dog you have there, cowboy,” The voice was teasing, but not malicious, and he grinned, eyes still closed.

“She’s a purebred,” he replied, and he heard a huff of laughter like the first few notes of music. Waiting for your footsteps to carry you away, he savored the moment, feeling silly as he hoped his soulmate would like to laugh as much as he did.

There was a weight on the other side of the bench, and he wondered at it, as you said, “Want to talk about it?” His smile was softer, this time, intrigued by the moment, but not wanting to be tempted into flirting, not when his soulmate was on the horizon.

“Nothin to tell,” he replied, feeling suddenly strange. Jack opened his eyes, looking at the rope in his hands, feeling the fibers run through his fingers. “Just a free range chicken... taking a break from tryin to chase down my second soulmate.” He winced, definitely not wanting to look at you, after the second had slipped out.

It wasn’t judging, though, the voice that said, “You seem like you want to talk about it.”

For once in his life, Jack didn’t know what to say, slipping off his hat to run his fingers through his hair before replacing it. He heard your half-laugh again, and it felt refreshing, like sweet tea on a southern summer day.

“Okay,” you said, and he heard amusement this time, like you had something to say, some thought you were chewing on.

Then, there was that terrible honk of the goose, not from his feet, but from where, assumedly, you were. Snapping his gaze to the other side of his bench, he saw a sight for sore eyes, half backlit, glowing like something he never thought he’d see.

There was an indignant goose in a cage at your ankles, now making grumbling bird noises in indignant conversation with the one at the end of his lasso.

“I thought you were never gonna look at me,” Your arm was across the back of the bench as you grinned at dynamite smile at him.

Jack returned it, feeling bashful and eager, dropping the rope to grab your closest hand.

“I promise I aint making that mistake again, sugar.”

bonus ending:

Jack was clinging to your hand, grinning like a fool as you introduced yourselves, when another movement caught his eye. There was a man, walking up behind you, a resigned look on his face. Whiskey’s hackles should have been all the way up, yanking you into his arms at the way this man was approaching you, but instead he was dumbfounded for the second time that day.

He was backlit, too, with shoulders that carried as much weight as the man in his mirror every morning, and he could see the shape of a gun as he knelt next to his soulmate. The stranger’s eyes when they looked at you... were as adoring as he was sure his must have been, a moment before, and he was familiar with you, like you’d known each other before now. Jack wanted to swallow, but his heart felt like it was in his throat, beating like he’d gone a round with a bull at the rodeo.

“This is probably a lot,” Javier said, taking you other hand and quirking an eyebrow. The geese made some loud, obnoxious noises and he looked at them appreciatively. “I wish I had thought of that,” he gestured at the lasso, and you smiled at him.

“This is Javier,” you said, and you let go of them both to stand up and brush yourself off. Warm hands and strong grips were exchanged, and you watched them curiously as they shook, murmuring names and titles again. They were sizing each other up, certainly, but you felt a rush of relief as you saw a familiar spark of attraction in Javi’s eyes.

“You got any more surprises for us, then?” you looked up at the cowboy, confused, only to realize he wasn’t talking to you. The goose in your cage was free halfway down the walk, the one in the lasso hissed. The poor man had been an RV in an earthquake and come out the other side overwhelmed and happy, of all things, but there wasn’t much more he could handle. To your surprise, he grabbed a crumbled paper bag and tossed the contents to the bird, before it gave a final honk, and waddled after it’s friend.

“I guess that’s a no,” you said, suddenly shy at the fullness in your heart.

“That’s alright,” Jack picked up his lasso, before looking at you and Javier, his eyes happy, and glinting with something stronger. “I think this is more than enough.”

And you agreed.

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179

for whiskey:

@0celestialbitch0

#why am I like this #did this get away from me?#yes #absolutely #soulmate requests #soulmate goose of enforcement #Javier Peña x reader #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey x reader #jack x you x javier #i guess thats a thing now #on this blog #don't ask me to write a part two or i swear #i'll probably do it #maybe i don't know people #also im a touch delirious sorry if this is as much of a fever dream for you as it is for me

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ineffable-snowman · 3 years

Text

(apologies in advance to the people who followed me for Good Omens. I’m diving headfirst into a new fandom, so I’m afraid there’s going to be a lot of Sambucky in the next three weeks at least...)

I wrote a fic inspired by episode 3 of FATWS. Read it here or on AO3.

Trouble Man

“It is a masterpiece, James. Complete, comprehensive. It captures the African-American experience.”

What kind of passive-aggressive bullshit was that? It was annoying enough that Zemo insisted on calling him ‘James’ in that patronising way of his but now he tried to lecture him or rather tried to make him look stupid, uncultured and ignorant. Bucky wanted to laugh at Zemo’s comment that sounded more like he was quoting a Wikipedia article to appear sophisticated, but then Sam spoke up.

“He is out of line – but he is right.”

Fuck Zemo. Seriously, Bucky had enough reason to hate Zemo but this was on another level. This was personal. He made Bucky look stupid, uncultured and ignorant in front of Sam. And the thing was, he was mostly ignorant about Marvin Gaye. He had listened to some of the tracks from Trouble Man just because they were on Steve’s list, and had quickly decided that it was not his kind of music. Now he wished he had at least listened to the whole album so he could contribute more than a weak “I like Marvin Gaye”, which fooled absolutely no one. He had no idea how a simple conversation about music had escalated like this. It had seemed like perfectly normal banter, Sam making fun of him for being old-fashioned, and then Zemo had interfered with that comment and it was downhill from there.

For some reason Sam was very passionate about Marvin Gaye and Bucky was intent on finding out why. Also, he needed to find out how music could be “complete, comprehensive” and “capture the African-American experience.” In his experience, music was used for dancing and for fun and that’s all there was to it. He stared at the notebook. There was some really good advice in it, like Thai food or Star Wars. So far, Bucky had not seen the appeal of Marvin Gaye. But apparently Steve had. If Steve had adored the music so much, why had he just simply crossed it out in a neat line and not, for example, put an exclamation mark behind it? Bucky added two exclamation marks.

Right, how to do this? Not for the first time he regretted just getting a simple flip phone instead of one of those fancy smartphones. When the shop assistant had told him that he needed a phone for taking photos and listening to music, Bucky had almost laughed at him. Talking about stupid… He could really use Youtube or Google now.

“Do you have a computer with internet?” he asked Sharon.

She looked at him like he was stupid (it was becoming a theme) but showed him to a computer and even gave him earphones. Then he started to listen to Trouble Man and this time did not skip any tracks but listened to the whole songs. He also googled the lyrics but that did not leave him any the wiser. Doctor Raynor would probably tell him to use his goddamn mouth and just ask someone, for heaven’s sake. He would rather get frozen again than ask Zemo. But it also felt extremely wrong that Zemo, who was supposed to be one of the bad guys, seemed to know and understand Sam better than Bucky, who was supposed to be Sam’s…whatever. Were they friends? Bucky certainly considered Sam a friend (although he never would say it out oud), probably the only friend he had left. Someone who texted you and asked you how you were and invited you to lunch was a friend, right? Someone who even saved your ass and (repeatedly) broke the law for you was a very good friend. But did Sam consider someone his friend who did not text back, who repeatedly got him into trouble, kept things from him and had even tried to kill him? Bucky stared at the screen. It was a miracle Sam had not tried to kill him yet. It was even more of a miracle that he was still being nice (sometimes). He googled “Trouble Man” and “African-American experience”. To his disappointment, it was not a quote from a Wikipedia article. So Zemo knew what was going on and Bucky did not. He turned up the volume and tried to make sense of the lyrics (“Got me singin' – yeah, yeah – Hoo“).

“Finally doing some catching up on the good stuff?”

Bucky turned around so quickly that the earphones were ripped out of his ears. Sam had put up his hands in defence and was babbling something about attacking or not attacking or whatever.

“Jesus.” Bucky consciously unclenched his left fist. “Couldn’t you just knock?”

“I did. You didn’t answer.” Sam pointed at the screen where the Youtube video of Trouble Man was still running. “I knew it,” he said gleefully. “You have no idea who Marvin Gaye is.”

“I do!” Bucky protested but then trailed off because he may have heard some of Gaye’s songs but he still did not know who Marvin Gaye was.

“So.” Sam crossed his arms over his chest. “What do you think? Honestly.”

Bucky looked from Sam to the screen to the dangling earphones. I like it was not an appropriate answer. Not an honest one. “I don’t get it,” he finally said.

“No appreciation for good music.” Sam sighed dramatically. “Hopeless. Stuck in the 40s forever.”

Bucky could have left it at that. They were on common ground again, bickering but not hurting each other, it felt familiar, safe. “No,” he said nevertheless. “I – how? How is this music – how does it…capture the African-American experience? Most of the songs don’t even have lyrics.”

“You don’t need lyrics for music to be meaningful.”

“How? Is it because people listen to it in certain situations or…?”

“Alright. Ready for a lesson on 20th century music? You better take notes.”

Bucky opened the notebook and took a pen. Then he noticed Sam’s grin. Right, he hadn’t meant it literally. But now Bucky had already opened the notebook and he was determined to go through with it. So he wrote down all the names Sam dropped, the musical genres and important songs. It was a lot and, as a lot of things, it confused Bucky but he just rolled with it. So some bands destroyed instruments on stage and certain music apparently had a soul? Great. Speaking of souls, this was probably the right time for some soul-gazing to show Sam that he was actively listening. (Doctor Raynor would be so proud of him.) Sam kept bringing up the soul thing several more times until finally Bucky could not keep quiet any longer.

“What’s with this soul music? Is it, like…music for funerals?”

Sam stared at him. Bucky stared back.

“Okay, scoot over.” Sam squeezed on the chair next to Bucky so Bucky almost fell over on the other side. Then he reached over Bucky to grab the mouse, opened another tab and chose a Youtube video for Bucky to listen to. “This is soul music.”

It was highly uncomfortable because the chair was not made for two people and they both weren’t exactly small but Bucky was resolved to stay on the chair, at least with one thigh. Sam chose video after video, pointed out characteristic musical features, quoted parts of the lyrics and talked about the history or the significance the songs. It was still a lot and Bucky still did not get everything but he dutifully took notes to look up some things in detail later. When he had filled the sixth page in his notebook, Sam stopped the music lesson.

“So, 40s music. Any recommendations?”

Bucky turned to face him. They were awfully close. Sam’s eyes were somehow very soft, there was the hint of a smile on his lips and he looked very huggable in that thin turtleneck – and he looked genuinely interested in Bucky’s answer. Bucky felt hot shame flooding him. Sam could be aggravating and an outright asshole but he was too kind for this world. Too kind to Bucky.

“Nah,” he mumbled. “Music in the 40s was just for dancing, for fun. Not…not important like your music.”

“Oh, you can dance just fine to my music,” Sam said in mock outrage. “Come on.” He elbowed Bucky out of the chair and chose another Youtube video, then stood up, too.

“Soul music?” Bucky guessed when the first chords of an electric guitar could be heard.

“Funk. Close enough.”

Sam started to move to the music. It should be ridiculous, the weird moves he was doing, because that certainly wasn’t proper dancing, not the dancing Bucky knew anyway – no rehearsed dancing steps, more like a spontaneous swaying to the music and some of the moves were definitely ridiculous but Sam made them look, well, smooth.

“See, that’s dance music, too,” Sam said and came to stand in front of Bucky.

Bucky had no idea why it was even called dancing but he wasn’t going to say that because he did not want to offend Sam again.

But of course Sam had to nag him. “Spit it out.”

“What?”

“I can see the cyborg gears turning. What’s wrong with dancing?”

“Nothing. Just not what I’m used to.”

“You can choose the next song. For now – get those hips moving.” He nudged Bucky, and how could Bucky say no? After Sam had spent all that time educating him and only mildly making fun of him for his ignorance, he owed it to him.

“This is ridiculous, I feel ridiculous,” Bucky complained when he tried to copy some of Sam’s moves.

“You’re doing great,” Sam said but he was grinning, clearly enjoying how Bucky was making a fool of himself. “Maybe tone down the staring a bit.”

Well, if it made Sam happy… Bucky decided to give it his all and moved wildly to the rhythm, not caring if it could be called “dancing” or not. Nonetheless, he was a little relieved when the song was over.

“Your turn.” Sam indicated the computer.

Bucky had no idea which song to pick. He tentatively typed “Billie Holiday” into the search bar.

“Seriously?” Sam came up behind him. “You know Billie Holiday and say you don’t understand how music can capture the African-American experience?”

It was like a punch in the face. A well-deserved punch probably. “I mostly saw her as the singer of love songs, for slow dancing,” he admitted. “Never really…thought much about it.”

“So what, you’re going to slow dance with me, Barnes?” It wasn’t the usual good-natured banter but sounded more like an accusation.

“Look, Sam, I…” Bucky rubbed his temples. “Let’s head downstairs to that party to…” hopefully not dance. Whatever. Get out of this situation where, he feared, he was breaking rule #2 again.

“No, let’s do this.” Sam clicked on the first link and a swing tune started to play, Me, Myself and I. “Let’s slow dance if that’s what you do.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely.”

It was certainly the most aggressive ask for a dance he had ever received. And he had never been this stiff during a dance before. He used to be a good dancer back in the days but now he felt clumsy when he placed his hand on Sam’s back while trying to keep as much distance between them as possible.

They had not even made eight uncoordinated steps when Sam started to speak. “Would it hurt you to use that brain of yours once in a while? It’s supposed to be working properly again, isn’t it? That’s what I heard at least.”

Doctor Raynor’s words came back to him, that he was free. To do what? Certainly to do better than hurt the man who had always had his back without Bucky ever having done anything to deserve that kind of loyalty.

“I’m sorry,” he said, unconsciously tightening his grip on Sam’s back.

“What for?”

Everything. “For being…kind of… thoughtless, I guess.”

Being so close, he could actually feel Sam exhale. “That’s the understatement of the century.”

“For being a huge dick,” Bucky offered.

“Better,” Sam grumbled. “Now, was that so hard?”

Bucky took a step back to gauge Sam’s reaction. He was relieved to find no traces of hurt or betrayal in Sam’s eyes, just the usual exasperation he put on when looking at Bucky. “Yes. Physically painful,” he tentatively tested the water. It was like a dance, back and forth, seeing how far you could get.

Sam rolled his eyes. “I hate you. And please stop staring.”

Bucky shrugged and pulled Sam close again, in fact, so close that he did not have to look into Sam’s eyes anymore but was now staring at his left shoulder. Sam was visibly relaxing in Bucky’s arms and wasn’t that a miracle, that he was still in Bucky’s arms, still allowed Bucky to hold him?

“Thank you,” Bucky mumbled into Sam’s shoulder.

“What for?”

Everything. Bucky tightened his hold on Sam (and silently thanked the autoplay function that started the next song because he was in no way ready to let go of Sam yet). “I’m a mess and you don’t deserve all that shit I throw at you.”

“Mm. You’re welcome.” Sam squeezed his shoulder, like a reassurance that he would continue to put up with all of Bucky’s bullshit. Too damn kind for this world. Good thing he had Bucky on his side who was going to beat up everyone who so much as tried to exploit Sam’s kindness. (Yes, he knew he was being hypocritical and should technically start with beating up himself.)

“Sharon was wrong,” Bucky said. “I’m not obsessed with the whole stars and stripes stuff. I didn’t follow Steve because he had that shield. And I’m – well, you might’ve noticed I’m here and not following that – that asshole. Sam, I think you should take the shield but, with or without the shield, I’ll follow you. Just so you know.”

Sam was silent for quite some time, they were just swaying gently to the music, until Bucky heard close to his ear, “That a threat, Buck?” He could almost sense the smile against his cheek.

“Just a fact. And I hate you too, by the way.”

#non good omens #sambucky #my writing #fanfic

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crossovereddie · 3 years

Text

Thoughts on 11x06

I had to come back to type this after the episode. I was gonna wait to post until more people are active but everyone’s safety is more important than notes. This was really hard for me to watch. It took me two hours because I kept needing a break. It’s a tough one yall. It’s heartbreaking and really brought out issues I didn’t know I was still dealing with until I reacted so badly to some stuff. Take care of yourselves and I’m here if you need to talk. I’ll have timestamps for major tws in another post coming right after this. I just gotta go back and get the end of those scenes. I only go the time they started.

Okay. So. There’s some trigger warnings that I’ve reblogged earlier. This recap WILL have thoughts about those triggers. If you think you’ll be triggered just message me or send me an ask and I’ll give you the non triggering recap. Stay safe please.

Kev and v intro. They’re having sex behind the bar

I’m extremely nervous for some reason I might not be able to get through this

Bike heist!!

LICKEY RIGHTS

LIP CALLS HIM MICK

MISSION IMPISSIBLE

Mickey is unimpressed

Lip telling Mickey what to do yes please

Fucking Mickey omg

HE LOOKS SO GOOD

THE WAY HE SAYS BRAD

Again Mickey is unimpressed

Lip :(

MICKEY CONCERNED ABOUT LIPS SOBRIETY

AGAIN I SAY LICKEY RIGHTS

Frank is falling the chick he’s boning Monica

Not sure that’s her real name

Wait yeah it is

Frank??? Has to get to work???

Wait her name isn’t Monica

Oh shut now I get what’s happening

“Can I speak to Pope Francis please” LIAM 😭

Poor baby

Lip cooking breakfast. Hot.

I forgot about camis baby

I actually beep bad for lip and Tami

We already heard this argument with Mickey and Ian get new material writers

PRODIGAL THEIF

PINK BOX HES SO CUTE

HE LOOKS SO CUTE GOTTA SQUEEZE HIM PLS

Yeah don’t tell Carl that traitor

MICKEY BROUGHT DONUTS PLS

HES SO CUTE

ITS TOO MUCH

I LOVE HIM

HIS SMILE!!!!!!!!

GALLAGHER YOUTH

THAT MEANS MICKEY TOO BYE

CARL CALLING HIM MICK TOO PLS

I CANT TAKE IT

Poor Liam he’s terrified

“I was hoping the fucker would just die” :(

Shut up Debbie

Mickey is beautiful

Leave Mickey out of it debbie goddamn

I cant fucking stand her

Frank just observing his kids and smiling

Same frank

SHUT UP DEBBIE

OH MY GOD HIS LAUGH IS THIS WHAT YOU HEAR WHEN YOU FIRST GET TO HEAVEN????

“And the smartest” lol

Someone save Liam

“I want Sandy”

We all do kid

Fucking manipulative little I CANT STAND DEBBIE

Sandy deserves better

I hate the Milkovichs!!!!

How did smart sensitive sweet beautiful loving Mickey come from this disgusting family????

MICKEY IS THE BOSS

My heart hurts so him

“Homo sexy” dear god

Mickey is too good he deserves so much better

I love him so much

Let him be happy

Mickey has the biggest heart

They’re actually talking and not fighting

CHAPO STFU

You’re so funny and smart and beautiful don’t forget that baby

SUGAR TITS

And no one is fazed lmao

“He’s actually my uncle and my dad” I fucking hate this show

I forgot Carl makes legit money now

Wtf kinda school is this

This is so fucked up

The twins are so adorable

SHUT UP DEBBIE

“You guys” I hate that but also she’s acknowledging Mickey as “hers” and he’s family :(

Okay this horrifying comment

I hate that it’s just nonchalant

Debbie just keeps talking.

Let’s move on

Mickeys face when she says “butt naked”lmao

LIP CALLING HIM MICK AGAIN

“Talk to you for a minute?”

“Yes. Please”

I LOVE IT

Mickey is unimpressed by lip once again and I’m smiling

They love each other they’re secretly best friends ITS A FACT

HAND SHAKE SO CUTE

MY BABIES

“Blue like my balls” fucking frank lol

They’re going in on Frank’s storyline now

Boss Mickey at it again

Terry’s home

The way his face falls im sick

SANDY BABY

My heart is racing

Mickeys face is breaking my heart

Great now I’m crying

Mickey got emotional

Ian sensed it and touched his neck all fucking sweet

Okay I had to take a little break because I started crying

I love him too much

Fucking Noel is so damn good

My heart is fucking breaking

“Frank’s not a homophobic psychopath who tortured you for years”

Please Mickey deserves better

I don’t wanna hear any Ian slander either.

In this house we protect my son and my son in law I will fight you

“Let’s get the fuck outta here. Lip you coming?” 😭

That was so hard to watch yall. I’m not gonna lie to you. My parents weren’t half as shitty as terry but growing up feeling unloved your whole life fucks you up anyway and that brought out some emotions and feelings I didn’t realize I still dealt with. I had to pause for a good while and cry.

Leave Sandy alone debbie

Terry is disgusting

Okay the homophobic language he uses is definitely triggering so I’ll time stamp that too

Debbie you selfish bitch

Everyone leaving terry outside it’s a yes from me

I honestly can’t concentrate on the other scenes now I’m sorry y’all

I try to cover everyone’s scenes but it’s hard for me today

I’m not okay

Liam is too innocent poor kid

MICKEY LIP AND IAN THE BEST TRIO

We need more scenes

I PAUSED TO TYPE AND THE FUCKING LOOK HES GIVING HIM STOP

They’re besties

Mickey is beautiful

MY BABY BUSINESS BOSS MAN I LOVE YOU

he really hasn’t called him Philip the entire episode wtf

Ignoring Debbie

Now I want fries

Carl is cringy

Mickey drove them home and pulled a gun

Honestly again another heartbreaking scene

Ian’s trying to make him stop

Terry is disgusting and also a coward but we’ve been knew

Noel is the most amazing

Mickey gets teary but doesn’t cry bc I cried enough for the both of us

He’s the strongest bravest ever and I’m so proud of him

I need a hug

My heart hurts so much y’all

I just want him to be happy

I’m a fucking mess

I can’t handle Lip being emotional too

Oh I thought lip wanted to sell the house for himself only but at least they all get their share

Horrible music choice

I wanna tuck Mickey in with his favorite tv show on(911) make him his favorite food to eat in bed and not let anyone but Ian around him for a good 72 hours

The way Ian is looking at him

“Would you take care of me if I was paralyzed?”

“....yeah. Yeah”

“Top you whenever I wanted” “asshole”

His smile is back that’s all I need in life

MICKEY IS TOO GOOD FOR THIS WORLD

RIP DOWN THAT FLAG YES BABY

“That was big of you” “he’s an asshole...I wanna be better than that”

WHEN I TELL YALL I LOST IT I MEAN FULL ON SOBBING

YOURE ALREADY A THOUSAND TIMES BETTER THAN THAT PIECE OF SHIT

YOURE SO KIND AND BRAVE AND BEAUTIFUL INSIDE AND OUT

Ian’s like “back of the head? Gotta grab and hold my boy”

“You are so much better than that” IAN MY SWEET SON IN LAW I LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR LOVING OUR BOY SO WELL

IAN IS THE MOST SUPPORTIVE HUSBAND

V spitting truth

I want terry to fucking suffer

Don’t do it frank

“Nah” LMAO

Frank loves his son in law

Sandy I love you

I need to hold her

No debbie I LOVE HER

NO SANDY LOVE ME INSTEAD

DEBBIE DOESNT DESERVE YOU

Carl scene was so awful I feel so bad for him this girl is a fucking psycho

That was an actual rape scene what the fuck

Mickey making frank laugh

Debbie explaining? Really?

I hate her

“How long is this gonna take? I’m fucking starving Lip” WHY WONT YOU CALL HIM PHILIP

“We could get on with our lives” well that hurt more than it should’ve

It’s really the end soon huh? 😢

According to captions Ian says “we’re in”

Frank reads his diagnosis

Carl goes to report his rape

That took me nearly two hours to watch. Yeah I usually pause to type but I had to take long breaks after the hard scenes. It was a really hard episode to watch. A lot darker than it has been. I’m not really okay right now. It was emotional but a really good episode overall.

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maria-scribbles · 4 years

Text

loyalty’s all i got | part two

three years ago, you had it all: great friends, good grades, and an almost perfect relationship with your boyfriend, jj. it all came crashing down when your mom relocated your family to california for work and you were forced to trade the outer banks for malibu, leaving your broken heart behind in the place you were just starting to think of as home. now you're back in town for college and to pick up the pieces, hoping to make things right again with your friends and the boy you never stopped loving.

word count: 8.6k+

ship: jj maybank x female!reader, pogue friendship

warnings n stuff: angst angst angst all around (with a happy ending tho!!), the reader being a v. sad girl, mentions of anxiety/depression, failed long distance relationship, drifting apart, self-inflicted loneliness/isolation, the classic trope of 'they broke up but they're still in love with each other' that gives me feels, swearing (it's not my writing unless someone says 'fuck' at least once), reconciliation/mended relationships, traditional cheesy rom-com rain scene 'cause i'm a Dramatic Hoe™

a/n: and here's the second and final part of this looooong two-shot! thank you all so much for reading and i hope you enjoy the finale even though i low key kind of hate it 🙃. fun fact: surfrider beach is a real place in malibu known for its great waves :) also i apologize for how long this took to post, i dropped my laptop and the screen broke so i had to wait for it to get fixed lmao. unbetaed as usual, any mistakes are my b.

~masterlist~

part two: like a ghost that no one knew

When you said goodbye to your friends three years ago, you should've known things would never be the same again. You were sixteen, still so young and naïve and full of an almost childlike hope that kept you from seeing the obvious: life wasn't fair. Sometimes, you could be holding all the right cards and still lose the game.

It should've been easy. You had a video chat schedule already figured out, promises of daily texts and Snapchats, a boyfriend willing -enthusiastically willing, in fact- to go long distance and make it work no matter what 'cause you both agreed that what you had was something worth fighting for. You and your friends had weathered many storms together, what was one more? It could've been easy but you underestimated just how cruel California would be.

You traded one coast for the other and watched the sun set over the Pacific alone when you would've given anything to watch it rise over the Atlantic with your friends. It hurt to surf solo but you did it anyway, even though it felt like a damn sucker punch each time you caught yourself scanning the sand for JJ and his proud smile when you successfully caught bigger and bigger waves at Surfrider Beach.

Long distance was hard. You had days where all you wanted to do was lay on your bed for hours, safely curled up in his arms as he ran his fingers through your hair but you had to settle for his voice over the phone and one of his shirts from your closet instead. You missed everything about him: his pretty eyes that looked like the clearest ocean, the cheeky grin he'd send your way after making a stupid joke that had you affectionately rolling your eyes in exasperation, that adorable flush that spread across his face without fail each and every time you said you loved him. You longed for his constant affection; the way he always wanted to keep you close somehow, his arm around your shoulders, hand in your back pocket, or fingers entwined with yours; how he could never go a day without kissing you. Being apart was nothing short of torture.

"I fucking miss you." He said late one night during a rare FaceTime session -his phone was a piece of shit so he had to 'borrow' John B's whenever he could- and you smiled despite the knife twisting itself deeper and deeper into your heart as you played with the fraying sleeve of his old sweatshirt you wore.

"I fucking miss you more, J." You whispered back, giggling quietly when he scrunched up his nose in playful skepticism.

"Yeah, I don't think so, babe. There's no way."

"Yes, way!"

Although it hurt like hell, you imagined being tangled up with him in the hammock hanging in the Chateau's yard under the North Carolina sky -the light from the moon would turn his blond hair a pale silver as he grinned down at you and cupped your cheek in his hand, closing that final distance between you for a kiss that'd fuel the fire racing through your veins- and you let that fleeting happiness carry you through the night, long after you said goodbye. You fell asleep with your phone in your hand, unaware that your mother had been listening from the other side of your closed door.

You'd been distant from her and your dad in the months since the move, obviously going out of your way to avoid them both by spending all your spare time surfing at the beach, coming home well past sunset and heading straight to your room without a word. They'd taught you forgiveness wasn't something to be given willingly -it had to be earned- and since neither of them had done anything worthy to deserve an absolution, you simply pretended they didn't exist and let yourself stew in your justified anger.

Until the morning after your video date with JJ, they'd wisely given you your space so you were pretty blind sighted to find them both waiting for you at the dining room table, one of your dad's famous cinnamon rolls on a plate set in front of your usual chair. You paused in the middle of tying one of your boyfriend's worn bandanas in your hair before abruptly continuing toward the front door, acting like you didn't see the hopeful looks on their faces that made guilt slowly start to burrow its way into your chest.

"Y/N, wait," Your dad sprung from his seat and reached his hand out toward your elbow, his face falling when you instantly pulled back and crossed your arms. "Please, let's just talk for a second."

"I'm gonna be late for the bus," You lied and tried for the door again, sighing in frustration when he blocked your path and ushered you toward the table where your mom was sitting, biting her thumbnail. The guilt burrowed deeper: you thought she kicked that habit years ago but there she was, chewing her nail to shreds and it was all because of you (the empty satisfaction you felt knowing you were the cause of her stress made you hate yourself just a little more.).

"Jellybean, don't worry about that. I'll drive you."

You bristled at the old nickname but sat in the chair your dad pulled out for you anyway. The smell of the cinnamon roll he pushed your way made your mouth water but you refused to eat and kept your eyes down as you played with the stack of bracelets adorning your wrist. "You wanted to talk?" You asked, deciding to just rip the band-aid off all at once 'cause knowing your mom when she was anxious and your dad being allergic to any type of confrontation, you'd have sat there all day until one of them worked up the courage to speak.

"Talk, right." Bill said with a nervous chuckle, shaking his head as he took a seat and swiped his own cinnamon roll from the pan in the middle of the table. "Uh, how are you?"

"Are you serious right now?" You asked incredulously, looking up from your lap with a raised eyebrow. "All this for 'how are you?'"

"How would we know?" Your mom finally spoke up as she pulled her ruined nail from her mouth, only to start instantly drumming her fingers on the table. "You're always holed up in your room or at the beach, Y/N. You never talk to us anymore."

You rolled your eyes before fixing her with a deadpan stare. "Hmm, I wonder why."

"Honey, you know I'm sorry-"

"Don't, okay? Just don't." You swallowed thickly and dumped the cinnamon roll back into the pan, blinking away the awful burning pressure building behind your eyes. "I can't listen to some half-assed apology that you don't mean!"

"Y/N, we are sorry. Everything's gonna get better, just give it time." Your dad's reply was muffled by a mouthful of pastry and any other time, you'd usually be laughing at his chipmunk cheeks but instead you just stared back down at your hands again, lip quivering as you tried and failed to hold yourself together. You would not cry. You would not cry. You would not-

"Please, honey." Your mom tentatively reached out one hand like she was approaching a wounded animal, her voice so soft you could barely hear it above the rush of blood in your ears. "It hurts us to see you like this-"

Oh, fuck this shit.

"You're hurt?! Are you kidding me?" Your chair scraped along the tile as you rocketed to your feet, vision blurring when the dam finally broke. "You promised we wouldn't move again until after I graduated and you broke that promise. I let myself make friends for once in my goddamn life -I fucking fell in love, Mom! I fell in love with the most amazing boy who, by some miracle loves me, too despite me being a...a complete loser!" You were rambling now but you couldn't find it in yourself to care about or stop the words flying from your mouth.

"God, I was happy -so, so disgustingly happy it kind of scared me, okay?" You laughed bitterly and roughly wiped the tears from your cheeks, only to have more immediately take their place. "And you didn't even stop to think before you took it all away from me! So don't even talk to me about being hurt 'cause you have no fucking idea!"

Your dad was frozen, eyes the same color as your own blown impossibly wide in the middle of another bite of cinnamon roll while your mom, two tears streaking perfect twin tracks down her cheeks, looked at you like you'd just told her the world was ending -to her, it just might've been but to you, it already had. Neither of them said another word as you snatched your backpack off the couch and stormed from the house, slamming the door behind you.

Halfway to the bus stop, you decided school just wasn't in the cards that day and doubled back, hiding behind the shed in your backyard until your tears had run dry and both of your parents left -Rebekah to the hospital, Bill to wherever he went while you were in class- before heading inside to change into your rash vest and grab your board. Despite it being early Friday morning, Surfrider Beach was full of life and you welcomed the hustle and bustle as you turned off your phone and buried it at the bottom of your bag, leaving your problems behind on the sand.

You spent the whole day at the beach, blissfully alone and free to do what you wanted, until the sun dipped low in the sky and you were too exhausted to even think about anything but dragging yourself home so you could pass the fuck out. You caught one final wave before heading back to shore, waving goodbye to the group of other kids you'd surfed with all day (the one thing you loved about California: everyone was so chill) and trudged through the sand toward your things where, just as you expected, your sister sat on your towel, clad in a baggy UCLA long-sleeve with her phone in hand.

"Bitch, you killed it out there!" She looked up as you dropped your board to the ground and sat down heavily beside her, slipping an old Kildare County High School sweatshirt -the first one you ever 'borrowed' from your boyfriend, much to his delight- over your head. "I mean, look at you go!"

You leaned closer to watch the video she took, the barest hint of a smile on your face when you watched yourself perform a near perfect cutback on the screen. "That's 'cause I had the best teacher."

Daisy tagged you and posted it to Instagram before you could protest, then tossed the phone back into her bag and turned to you with a forced cheerfulness that kind of made you want to smack her. "So..."

"Mom and Dad sent you to clean up their mess." You finished quietly, tucking your knees to your chest and wrapping your arms around them as your sister sighed dramatically and offered a sympathetic wince.

"As always." She copied your position and you both stared out at the sun sinking over the water, its fading rays turning the sky brilliant shades of orange and pink. It was typical of your parents to send Daisy after you when you were upset -after all, you'd both been each other's only friend for over half your lives- and normally, you'd be glad to see your sister's friendly face instead of your mom's or dad's. That evening, though? All you felt was...disappointment.

"Guess they really don't give a shit about me." You mumbled under your breath, half-hoping Daisy didn't hear you but from the way she snapped her head in your direction, you didn't get your wish.

"Y/N, that's not it. They're just..."

"Just what? Pretending that they didn't stab me in the back? Acting like everything's all hunky-dory and they actually cared about my feelings?"

You hastily wiped at your face when your sister silently looped an arm around your shoulders and tucked you against her side, her fingers running soothingly through the ends of your damp hair as you vented all of your frustrations -everything you'd kept locked deep inside your heart- until your voice was hoarse and the sun had long disappeared from the horizon and you had no tears left to cry.

"You have no idea what it's like, being so lonely it hurts to breathe. It hurts knowing Mom and Dad have each other and you have Daniel and I'm alone all the time." You lifted your head from her shoulder and rubbed your red eyes with your sleeve. "Worst part is, they just keep acting like I'll wake up one day and magically be okay and everything'll be all sunshine and rainbows again."

"First off, I wanna say that I'm sorry for not making more time for you. I knew you were struggling and I'm a terrible big sister for not being here for you like I should have," You squeezed Daisy's other hand in thanks as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, her voice soft and steady like the waves crashing against the shore. "Second, I definitely don't think Mom and Dad are handling this the way they should, but I think they're trying in the only way they know how. That should count for something, right?"

You sighed and tugged the sleeves of your sweatshirt over your hands. "I guess, but they haven't even tried to see where I'm coming from and they don't get that I'm not the only one they hurt. If I have to hear one more half-assed apology, I'm gonna lose my shit. Again."

"I'm not saying you have to forgive them right away 'cause I sure as hell wouldn't until they say they're sorry and mean it. But..." She said, pulling you to your feet and shaking the sand from the towel you were sitting on, "you shouldn't keep shutting them out, okay? It's not healthy."

You tucked your board under your arm as Daisy grabbed your bag and swung it onto her shoulder before you both started walking toward the parking lot. "What if I'm never ready to forgive them?"

"That's a question I don't have the answer to." She said with a shrug. "You've gotta figure that one out for yourself."

So you followed your sister's advice. You were civil and gradually, your relationship with your parents improved until you could stand to be in the same room as them and even carry on a short conversation, even though you knew you'd probably never be able to fully trust them again. You caught them exchanging glances you could only describe as wounded when you often turned down their invitations to go to the movies or get ice cream or other things you used to love doing when you were younger but for the most part, they took it in stride and you were grateful for their little efforts. Forgiveness wasn't in the cards quite yet but with each passing day, you felt the icy wall around your heart slowly start to melt away.

But every time you thought you were taking one step forward, life pushed you two steps back. Just when you were getting things back on track with your family, the train went flying off the rails when it came to your friends and it was all your fault.

It wasn't like you didn't try -God, did you try- to keep yourself from falling back into old habits but Malibu just had a way of bringing out the absolute worst in you. Your old self, the girl who kept to herself and pushed everyone away, someone you thought you buried in the deepest grave, slowly came back from the dead with a vengeance little by little, so subtly you didn't realize what was happening until it was too late.

One missed phone call turned into two, texts went unanswered for days or not at all, FaceTime sessions happened less and less. The last video chat had been with Kiara and it ended terribly, after you blew up at her for mending her friendship with Sarah Cameron in the near two years since you'd been gone, spitting words you couldn't quite remember -something along the lines of 'didn't take you too long to replace me, huh' and calling the blonde girl a 'heinous bitch'- but knew you regretted with everything you had and hanging up before she had a chance to explain. You couldn't even recall the last time you talked to Pope or John B aside from the occasional Snapchat and your daily calls with JJ had turned to once a week, if you were lucky.

He was trying, you could tell, and so were you but the deck was stacked against you and you were never very good at cards, anyway. It hurt to try, it hurt not to try, everything just hurt. Nearly two years apart had done their damage and coupled with your debilitating fear of being forgotten that clawed at your chest like a rabid dog, your relationship was on unstable ground and for the first time in almost four years, you were thinking about the end. It wasn't like you didn't love him anymore (holy shit, were you still completely head over heels in love). In fact, you loved him so much you realized that he could do so, so much better than you and the thought rested heavy and bittersweet on your mind, lurking in the shadows until you were ready to bring it to light.

It happened on New Year's Eve. Alone in your room, your hands shook as you answered JJ's call at midnight, his voice tired and a little hoarse from celebrating the new year three hours earlier on the opposite coast and you nearly started crying right then and there when you replied with a shaky "I think we need to talk."

"Babe, what's wrong?"

You took a deep breath and said quietly, "Everything."

"Talk to me." The pure concern in those three words nearly convinced you to call it off, to tell him to forget you said anything and that you were fine, everything was just fine but deep down, you knew you couldn't.

"I've been thinking about us and I...I just think that you deserve better than me. Someone who can actually be there for you when you need her and hold you when your dad's an asshole and see you every day. Someone who can laugh at your silly jokes and share a joint with you and clean you up when you get into fights defending your friends-"

"Babe, what are you talking about? That girl is you."

"Maybe I was but I'm not anymore and I don't think I have been since I left. I just can't be the girl you want, I can't be the girl you deserve, J -I'm a total fucking mess and you can do so, so much better than me."

"Y/N."

You didn't know you were crying until you heard the broken way he breathed your name and salt water dripped from your chin onto the bracelet around your wrist.

"...are you breaking up with me?" His voice was impossibly small, the quietest you'd ever heard it and the exact moment your battered heart shattered into pieces was when you realized he didn't even put up a fight.

"I think so." The words tore through you like a gunshot as you cried, curling into yourself on the bed in an effort to ward off the worst pain you'd ever felt in your life and you wondered if it was possible to die from a wound that wasn't even physical.

He was quiet for a long time, so long you thought he hung up without you noticing through your tears, until he sniffed on the other end of the line.

"Guess we had a pretty good run, huh?" He asked with a watery chuckle and you found yourself giving a tiny, shuddering giggle in response -God, even when you were breaking his heart he still managed to make you laugh.

"The best, baby." The pet name slipped out like second nature and you winced, hastily trying to cover your mistake with an awkward cough but from the sharp breath you heard him take, he'd heard it anyway.

("I'm sorry," you said, and it stood as an apology for more than just your slip-up.)

"I love you, Y/N. Probably always will."

"I'll never stop loving you, JJ. That's a promise."

You let yourself believe him as you laid there bleeding from a gash you couldn't see, a wound you knew would never heal, and you hoped he let himself believe you, too, even when you ended the call without another word and threw your phone away from you, not bothering to see where it landed. The sound of your heavy, broken sobs filled the room and you didn't even mind when your mom, who you knew had been listening from the other side of your closed door like always, barged in and took you into her arms, stroking your hair as you cried into her lap.

If you were supposed to avoid getting hurt by leaving first, why did it feel like everything in you was broken? If you were making the right choice, why did it feel so wrong? You didn't have the answers and no matter how hard you searched, you knew you'd ever find them.

So you tried to stay busy. You joined the surf club at school, got a part-time job at the local aquarium, did anything you could to distract yourself from the hurt and the guilt and the way getting out of bed every morning was the hardest thing to do. Surf club introduced you to Mackenzie, the one girl who was more ostracized at school -an even richer version of the kook academy you hated -than you, her for being freakishly tall and you for your East Coast attitude, and the two of you became fast, if reluctant friends. Mack didn't try to stitch the gaping hole in your heart caused by your absent friends but she numbed the pain just enough to make it bearable and you were grateful for her calm, steady presence at your side, even as you both tried to keep each other at arm's length.

Later, you found out she was just like you, friendless and awkward with no self-esteem and a tendency to push people away, and that just cemented your friendship through the summer and your final year of high school.

Mack told you all about her life, growing up with no siblings, having height that she never learned to deal with, and a debilitating social anxiety that made making friends near impossible, and in turn you told her about how you hopped from town to town on your mother's whims, the wonderful friends you let slip away, and the beautiful boyfriend you loved enough to let go, and you both cried together for the lives you could've led.

"You two looked so happy," She said during the first sleepover you hosted as she held one of the many picture frames littering your dresser, her lips turned upwards in a small smile.

You gently took the frame from her hands and ran your fingers over the grinning face of your ex-boyfriend, his arms wrapped around your shoulders as your painted lips planted a deep red kiss on his cheek, and the wave of longing washing over you was almost strong enough to bring you to your knees. "It was the happiest I've ever been."

"Do you miss him?"

"So much it hurts."

i miss you.

i'm so sorry.

i still love you.

You'd typed and erased those texts every day but never mustered the courage to hit send and you couldn't decide if that was a blessing in disguise or the worst possible curse. Of course you still loved JJ: you promised you would and even if you didn't, you couldn't stop if you tried. He was your first love, the boy you so willingly gave your whole heart and then some; you still kept his ring on your thumb -the one he gave you at the airport the day you left- and his bracelet around your wrist, his bandanas in your hair and his face in your dreams and you knew you always would.

Before you could blink, your eighteenth birthday flew by and graduation was upon you.

You thought the second you were done with high school you'd be gone, heading straight back to the Outer Banks and the life you left behind but you found yourself stalling on sending in an application to UNC -Chapel Hill until you missed the deadline for the fall semester. On the outside, you made up a semi-legit excuse about getting your basic courses done at a community college to save money but deep down you really knew why you procrastinated: you were terrified to go back. Ever since your break up with JJ, you hadn't spoken to him or any of your old friends other than the obligatory birthday wishes on Facebook and you wondered if the damage you'd done over the years was too much to come back from, even as you tried to work up the courage to find out for sure.

Another year passed: in between earning college credits, you and Daisy took a sister's trip to Disneyland, Mack asked you to tag along on a jaunt up the coast to San Francisco to see Alcatraz, your parents celebrated their 25th wedding anniversary (your gift was long-overdue forgiveness and they said it was the greatest thing you possibly could've given them). When the time came, you and Mack both sent out your applications to UNC -you for biology, her for chemistry- and the myriad of emotions you felt when you got in was nothing short of dizzying. The old you was terrified, screaming at you to rip up the letter and join your sister at UCLA instead of opening old wounds but the hopeful you, the girl who lived without fear, the girl who fell in love and let herself be loved, screamed louder.

And so you killed the old you once again, burying her even deeper than the last time in a locked chest and throwing the key as far as you could out into the Pacific where you knew you'd never find it. You clutched your acceptance letter close to your chest and took a step east, away from California and toward the place where your broken heart still rested, scattered in pieces across the sand.

Settling in at UNC was surprisingly easy. You and Mack already clicked pretty well as friends so making the transition to roommates was natural and, dare you say it, even a little fun and the two of you quickly fell into a comfortable routine in your tiny apartment off campus in Chapel Hill. Comfortable and yet...that happiness you once felt all those years ago was missing from your life and you found yourself just as restless as you were in Malibu. While you knew exactly what you needed to do, that fear kept rearing its ugly head in the back of your mind, poisoning your thoughts: what if they wouldn't be happy to see you, what if they forgot about you, what if they hated you? What if he hated you?

It was terrifying, picturing yourself turning up at the Chateau with a hopeful smile only to have the door slammed right in your face. Deep down, you knew they'd never do that to you no matter how badly you'd hurt them but when you'd spent your whole life expecting the worst, taking a leap of faith wasn't an easy feat -something Mack just couldn't wrap her head around.

"I don't get it."

You glanced up from where you were lounging on your bed, flipping through your biology notes in preparation for your lab exam the next morning and shot your roommate a confused look. "Get what?”

Mack sat at your desk, her own notebooks lying ignored as she spun the chair around to face you, arms crossed. "Why you haven't hopped on that ferry to go get your man yet!"

You froze for a moment too long before offering a half-hearted shrug as you fiddled with the beads at the end of your bracelet. "It's not that easy. He probably wants nothing to do with me and I don't blame him."

"How do you know? You haven't talked to JJ in over a year, right?" At your tight nod, she continued, "What if he's just like you-"

"Depressed?"

Mack fixed you with a flat, unamused look. "Still in love, dumbass."

You scoffed and propped your chin in your hand as you glanced back down at your study guide, trying not to latch onto that little thought -hope and pain all rolled into one- that sparked to life at her words. He'd said he would probably always love you that New Year's Eve and back then you'd let yourself believe him but now, you weren't so sure. "Yeah, right. No way he's still...still in love with me after I broke his heart."

"Maybe he is, maybe he isn't," Your roommate said with a shrug, spinning around on the chair to grab her things. "You'll never know if you don't get over there, track his fine ass down, and talk to him."

You stared down at your notes without actually seeing anything, the slanted letters of your handwriting blurring before your eyes as the other girl flipped her chemistry book closed and stood, shooting you an warm smile that you didn't see.

"Listen, Y/N, you're my best friend and I want to see you happy more than anything but I can't take that jump for you. Yeah, it's scary and nerve wracking and you might end up hurt worse than before, so what? That's just...life."

Mack left after that, crossing the apartment to her room so she could get ready for a date with a girl from her psych class, leaving you alone with tears on your face and a million thoughts in your head, all of them terrifying and exciting and oh so loud.

She was right, of course -Mack always knew the right thing to say- and as you stared down at the bracelets on your wrists and the ring on your thumb, the pictures on your phone and the too-big shirt hanging off one shoulder, you realized sitting around moping wasn't gonna solve anything; if you wanted your happiness, your friends, the love of your life back, you needed to step up and fight for them with everything you had. And so you wiped the tears from your cheeks and walked to the cliff's edge with your head held high, ready for the fall and whatever came with it. You were ready to fix your mistakes, no matter how badly it might hurt.

Still, you couldn't do it all on your own. You needed some help to make things right again and while you knew just who to ask, you weren't quite sure if they'd be willing to lend a hand. Desperate times called for desperate measures though and you penned a good old-fashioned letter, feeling like a heroine in a Jane Austen novel as you poured all your thoughts -your dreams, wishes, hopes- onto a piece of paper in bold blue ink and sent it off to its destination on Figure 8, your Hail Mary for a happy ending sealed up neatly in a single envelope.

Mack, bless her heart, did her best to keep your spirits up as you waited on a response but even her ever reassuring presence couldn't keep you from worrying as one week passed by, then two. Halfway through the third you'd almost given up, already wracking your brain for another way to make your plan work when your phone chimed with a text from an unknown number.

i'll help you

And just like that, the moment you'd been waiting for was finally within your reach; you told your parents not to expect you for Thanksgiving break, called your sister for a much needed pep talk, and started counting down the days until you'd see your friends again, for better or worse.

When you left the Outer Banks three years ago, it was sunny. You were sixteen, young and in love and scared about the future.

When you returned, it was in the middle of a storm. You were nineteen, a little bit older but no less in love and definitely still scared about what was waiting for you at the end of the road.

Rain pounded against the roof of Sarah Cameron's SUV as she drove away from the docks and toward the Chateau, her fingers tapping along to the music playing quietly through the radio. You sat in the passenger seat, soaked to the bone from your ferry ride from the mainland and shaking like a leaf despite the towel wrapped around your shoulders and the warm air flowing from the car's vents.

"Thanks for coming to get me," You said, wincing at the awkward lilt of your voice echoing in the small space as you spun JJ's ring around your thumb and stared out the windshield at the familiar sights streaking by in blurred shades of green and brown. Being back opened a Pandora's box of emotions in your head, both good and bad, and instead of trying to sort them out, you let them bounce around in your brain like a pinball machine and concentrated on methodically twirling the warm metal ring in circles on your finger.

Sarah briefly glanced away from the road to shoot you a small smile, her kind eyes softening at your visible nervousness. "Not gonna lie, I was pretty sure you hated me so when I got your letter it kinda...threw me for a loop. Sorry it took me so long to reply."

You wished the heated leather seat would swallow you whole as you winced again and wrapped the towel tighter around your shoulders. "For the longest time, I thought I did hate you but I realized I was just...scared of losing my friends and I took it out on you. You didn't deserve to be labeled the villain in my story when I was the one, um, sabotaging myself, I guess." You took a deep breath and picked at a loose thread tickling your arm. "And I'm really, really grateful for your help."

It was more than you wanted to admit out loud -nearly the same words were written in the letter peeking out from the center console of the car- but at the same time, you knew it was what needed to be said and from the way the blonde girl's fingers stopped tapping against the steering wheel, she knew she needed to hear it. At a red light, she quickly tapped out a text on her phone before tossing in back into her bag with another tiny grin in your direction.

"Happy to help. For what it's worth, I'm so sorry if I made you feel like you were being replaced, I never intended to hurt you or steal your friends or...or, I don't know, usurp-"

"Sarah, stop. Please," You held up a hand to cut off her apology and offered her a self-deprecating smile. "I'm the one who's sorry. I let my...jealousy get the best of me and I feel so bad about all the shit I said 'cause that wasn't fair to you at all and I hope you can forgive me-"

"Y/N, there's nothing to forgive! We all say stupid shit when we're mad -trust me, I know." She interrupted with a bubbly, contagious giggle that seemed to scare away the gloomy storm clouds gathered over your head for a moment in time. "But I was never pissed at you, ever. I just want you to know that."

Stunned, you settled deeper into the seat and started playing with your ring again as she kept driving on, unbothered by your lack of response. You felt like you were thirteen again, back when Sarah and Kiara were your only friends, before the birthday disaster and the whole pogue versus kook feud that got completely out of hand; it felt...nice and you found yourself hoping that the blonde girl would still want to be your friend again, no matter what the others thought about your sudden return.

"Thank you."

Sarah gave no indication she heard your quiet confession of gratitude but from the way you watched her smile grow out of the corner of your eye, you knew she did. The rest of the drive passed in companionable silence as you retreated into your own thoughts, your nerves getting worse and worse the closer you got to your destination.

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly through your nose, feeling like your heart was trying to beat its way through your rib cage. You hadn't been this anxious in a long, long time, so long you almost forgot how much you hated the tightness in your chest, how your palms would start to sweat, the way you'd chew the inside of your cheek until you tasted blood on your tongue. By the time Sarah pulled into an open spot beside the achingly familiar Volkswagen parked in front of the Chateau, you were surprised you were still able to breathe.

The sight of the tiny house, one you spent so many carefree days and beautiful nights in alongside your friends, standing virtually unchanged in front of you was like a shot to the heart and your hands, curled into fists on your lap, began to shake without warning. Shit, you were a godforsaken mess; how the hell were you supposed to do this without having a mental breakdown?

"I'm so scared."

The whispered words, barely audible over the torrential rain against the roof, slipped from your mouth before you could stop them and Sarah slowly reached one hand over to give your trembling wrist a reassuring squeeze, the corners of her mouth curled upward in a slight smile.

"Don't be. They're gonna be so happy to see you!"

You turned to look at her, eyebrows knit together in disbelief. "How are you so sure they still care about me?"

"I'm sure 'cause I've seen it. My God, if only you could've heard all the times they talked about you -'I wish Y/N was here,' 'remember that time with Y/N,' hell, just straight 'I miss Y/N so fucking much,'" She said bluntly and shifted in the driver's seat to face you head on, smiling wider at the thunderstruck look on your face. "Pretty sure I haven't gone a week without JJ saying that last one at least once."

"I thought..." You paused, tongue darting out to run over your dry lips as you tried to put your jumbled feelings into words, "I thought he'd hate me -I mean, after all I've done, you think he still..."

"Loves you? Are you kidding?" Her reply was so enthusiastic it was hard not to believe her as she went on, her words like sunshine brightening the darkest corners of your mind. "He's still head over heels, I've never seen him even look at another girl in three damn years. You know he still wears your necklace, the one with the silver star? Kie told me all about it."

"I-I didn't." You remembered giving it to him the day you left, managing a shaky smile through your tears as you carefully clasped it around his neck, your fingers running over his skin as you settled the charm perfectly alongside that little shark tooth you'd grown to love.

('Be careful with this, baby. It's my favorite.' You had said, crying harder when he'd taken off one of his rings and slipped it onto your thumb.

'Well, this one's my favorite so take good care of it, okay?' His voice had been light but his eyes were heavy with unspoken words that you'd heard loud and clear because you knew your gaze said the exact same things.

don't let me go

don't break my heart

don't stop loving me)

You coughed to disguise the fat tears that started rolling down your face, quickly wiping them away with your sleeve but the blonde girl wasn't fooled as she gave your hand another friendly squeeze.

"Come on, they're probably wondering what's taking me so long," She sent a conspiratorial wink your way and grabbed her bag from the center console. "I told them I was picking up some pizzas but I have a funny feeling they won't be too pissed that I lied."

With a desperate grip on the strap of your backpack and your heart racing, you trailed behind Sarah through the rain to the front porch.

"Ready?" She glanced back where you lingered at the top of the stairs, anxiously shuffling from foot to foot, and shot you a smile that did little to calm your nerves. "Just wait here!"

She knocked on the door before you could reply and yelled loud enough to be heard over the pouring rain, "Hey, it's me! Can somebody get the door? My hands are kinda full."

"Got it!"

Your bag slipped from your fingers and fell onto the porch with a loud thump at the sound of the voice floating through the open windows, a voice you heard nearly every night as you slept, in your dreams of a future you wanted with everything you had. You knew it better than your knew your own, knew every pitch and tone and lilt; quiet and raspy in the mornings when you woke up in each other's arms, loud and carefree during long days spent under the golden sun with the rest of your friends, soft and warm and laid bare at night when he showed how much he loved you with more than just words.

Sarah gave you an enthusiastic thumbs up before stepping to the side just as the door opened and you suddenly found yourself struggling to breathe as you stared into the wide blue eyes of your ex-boyfriend. JJ stared right back, one of the hands you used to hold clenched so tight around the doorknob his knuckles were white, the lips you used to kiss parted in surprise, the blond hair you used to run your fingers through falling onto his forehead like always and the familiar, beautiful sight of him standing close enough to touch made your knees weak.

"You're not pizza."

It was such a JJ thing to say and you didn't know whether to laugh or cry as you swallowed thickly and shook your head. "Sorry to disappoint you."

"I'm not."

"Oh."

Hope flared white hot in your chest at his words but it quickly started to fade, replaced by fear when he made no move toward you, his fingers still gripping tight to the door, and you felt your face start to heat in embarrassment as Sarah looked back and forth between the two of you like she was watching a tennis match.

God, you were so stupid. What did you expect would happen, showing up out of the blue after over a year of no contact? Everything would fall into place again with just one long, heavy look? Believing it could be that easy turned you into a complete and total fool, tongue-tied and insecure and weak.

"Yo, what's the hold up?" John B's voice asked from inside the house and Sarah leaned down to call through the open window, "Come out here and find out!"

A wave of dizziness hit you like a truck and you took a sudden step back toward the stairs, arms wrapping around your stomach as it twisted itself into knots. "I'm sorry, I-I shouldn't have come. This was a mistake." You didn't notice the stricken look that crossed JJ's face or the three familiar, stunned expressions that appeared behind him in the darkened doorway before turning away and stumbling off the porch toward the road, leaving your bag behind and you definitely didn't notice how you barely made it off the bottom stair before a set of footsteps hastily gave chase.

"It wasn't a mistake, Y/N!" JJ's desperate voice stopped you in your tracks, halfway across the yard with more than just rain running down your face. "Not to me, never to me."

His soft touch on your wrist sent shockwaves through your body and you instantly became putty in his hands, letting him turn you around without a fight to face him, watching in fascination as the downpour started to darken his gray shirt and flatten his hair against his forehead. Three years hadn't changed much about him -he was a little taller, hair a little longer, the muscles in his arms a little more defined- and when you met his wide-eyed gaze, beads of rain dripping from his long eyelashes like diamonds, you wondered if he was thinking about the differences time created between the younger you of the past and the you of the right now, too.

"Oh." You repeated dumbly, struggling for something, anything to say that didn't make you sound like an illiterate fool. Even at nineteen, words still weren't your strong suit so you let your actions speak for you as your hand reached out on its own accord to caress the silver star still clasped around his neck, the thumb still wearing his ring brushing slowly against the dip between his collarbones; he shivered, and you weren't really sure if it was from your touch or the cold.

"Y/N." JJ said your name like a prayer, like he couldn't believe you were there in front of him, and you inhaled sharply when both of his hands slowly, carefully moved to cup your face, his calloused thumbs habitually wiping the tears from your cheeks over and over, even as more instantly replaced the ones he swept away. "I fucking missed you."

You stood there, looking like a damned drowned rat with your hair dripping into your eyes, shivering in your soaked jeans and Kildare County High School sweatshirt, the love of your life cradling your face so gently in his hands, and so many things you wanted to say flooding your brain but only the one that mattered the most managed to get by your trembling lips.

"I'm still in love with you."

You noticed a lot when you put your heart on the line: the steady, soothing sound of water falling through the trees, the bright, clean taste of rain on your tongue, how the sun was just barely starting to peek out from behind the stormy clouds, but they all paled in comparison to the little things you noticed about the boy in front of you; blue irises made even brighter by the red rimming his eyes, how he stepped closer on the wet grass until the tips of his scuffed boots touched your worn gray high tops, the way his hands trembled ever so slightly against your flushed face.

"Well, it's your lucky day 'cause I'm still in love with you, too."

All of the breath left your lungs in one big rush when JJ smiled hopefully -oh, how you loved everything about that smile: his slightly crooked teeth, that dimple in his cheek, the endearing pink blush swept across his nose- and you felt yourself return it without a second thought, your own hope once again burning bright in your chest.

"Even after...everything?" Your voice shook like the fingers you slid into the hair at his nape and he leaned down to rest his forehead against yours, close enough you could feel his breath on your lips when he spoke.

"I told you I'd always love you, didn't I?"

You nodded, a delicious shiver running down your spine when he tilted his head just so and gently bumped your nose with his. You remembered all the times he did that through the years, a dizzying slideshow of memories that flashed through your mind like lightning, and your fingers wove themselves deeper in his hair.

"I have so many things to apologize for," You said with a tiny, quiet shake of your head, tearing your eyes away from his in shame and staring over his shoulder toward where the rest of your friends watched from the porch, all crowded together at the top of the stairs with identical enthralled expressions on their faces. "There are so many mistakes I've made and people I've hurt and I have no idea how to even start saying sorry for it all."

"Babe."

The sound of your old pet name caused your gaze to snap right back to his and your heart felt like it was about to beat right out of your chest when one of his hands trailed down the sensitive skin of your neck and then lower until it traced along the curve of your hip and left a line of fire in its wake.

"We'll figure that out later, okay?" JJ said as his fingers tucked a loose strand of wet hair behind your ear, a coy, ardent grin on his face. "'Cause I've been waiting three years to kiss you again and if I don't get to do it soon, I'm gonna lose my fucking mind."

You smiled -a wide, joyful, elated smile- and rose up on your tiptoes in anticipation. "Then kiss me."

You didn't have to tell him twice. His lips pressed against yours desperately, like he needed you to breathe, like you were the very air in his lungs, religiously, like your mouth was the altar and he was there to worship as he pulled you close, the fingers of one hand tangling in your hair while the others dug into your hip. You kissed him back just as hard and the familiar taste of him on your tongue -mint, smoke, salt- sent that dearly missed spark racing through your veins like wildfire.

It was a little cliché, having your long-awaited reunion kiss in the rain but it was honest and candid and real and so much better than anything you could've dreamed. You lost yourself in his touch like you used to, clinging to him like a lifeline and pouring your whole heart into every fierce brush of your lips against his, both of you pulling away for a moment only to dive right back in each time. It was addictive, intoxicating, and you could've spent the rest of your life standing there in the middle of the yard and kissing like there was no tomorrow if a loud, ear-piercing wolf whistle hadn't come from the direction of the porch.

The two of you broke apart just barely, with foreheads still pressed together and swollen lips, and you couldn't stop yourself from giggling when JJ blindly flipped the bird over his shoulder before pulling you back in for another eager kiss that filled your whole body with an exhilarating, heavenly heat that never faded, even after four enthusiastic voices suddenly surrounded you like an excited swarm of nosy, buzzing bees.

"You aren't the only one who missed her, J." Kiara said, smiling widely as you reached out to grab her hand and pull her into a powerful one-armed hug, her chin resting on your shoulder.

"Yeah, stop hogging all the love!" John B added, throwing himself into the pile along with Pope, who slung an arm around your shoulders as he said, "Great to have you back, Y/N."

Sarah was the last to join and she quietly tucked herself under John B's arm with a pleased grin on her face, nodding when you mouthed 'thank you' in her direction. The six of you stood there in the rain, smiling like fools, and as the sun started to scare away the dark clouds overhead and in your heart, a weight you didn't even realize had been crushing your chest slowly began to lift away with each freeing breath.

You still had a lot of work to do: wrongs to be righted, apologies to be made, explanations -not excuses- to be given for every shitty thing you did in your past. But as happy tears started streaming down your face once again and you felt the arms of the friends you’d thought were lost to you forever tighten around you at the sight, you knew in your bones all would be forgiven. You knew that after three long years, you'd finally come home.

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missorgana · 3 years

Text

everything i do (gonna think of you)

pairing: finn/poe dameron

fandom: star wars (sequel trilogy

rating: teen and up

word count: 4690

warning: swearing, alcohol

summary: Finn and Poe are on a break. Neither of them are okay. But Finn hears Poe singing about him on the radio, and they'll be okay. Always. (musician poe, artist finn, long distance break-up + getting back together)

(it’s been ages but my space bfs, it’s good to be back!! a long overdue installment in my finnpoe alphabet series. did not expect e to be the most difficult letter to work with !!! thank you to Cat / @wendigostag as ALWAYS for beta reading and supporting my messy ideas 🥰 love uuuu. enjoy??)

read on ao3

“And now for the moment you’ve all been waiting for, I’m sure!”

The audience erupts in a half-laughter, half-cheer, and the host smiles, looking a bit too tired for his age.

“Tonight’s special performance is by someone who has, quite frankly, taken the whole of America - and dare I say the world? - by storm!”

Previous cheers resurface, louder and more certain than before. Even a few wolf whistles, making the presenter laugh as well.

“Here to perform his new single ‘cardigan’ from the debut album ‘folklore’, Poe Dameron!”

Quite literally everyone in the studio goes crazy, and as the camera directs towards the stage, a light turns on and reveals the curly haired man in all his glory.

He smiles slyly to the audience. A few noises, bordering on the line of screaming, makes him chuckle, but he puts all his focus on the guitar. Snaps, strums, and as the piano starts accompanying him, a soft voice forming strange and unfamiliar words.

Finn wipes the tear away in frustration before it even gets a chance to move, just tiny droplets stinging his vision. He’s sniffling, and biting his cheek, staring at the already half-empty bottle of red wine on the table.

Never in his life has he ever felt more pathetic, that’s true.

He doesn’t know why he’s watching this. And judging by the two texts pinging in on his phone, his best friend Rey somehow knows he’s doing it, too.

His vision’s too blurry to type, he thinks. Fuck it, pour another glass of wine. Who cares?

On the screen, Poe smiles while singing each word. But Finn knows the man better than anyone in that studio to know that it’s not really a smile. It’s the kind that his boyfriend- ex-boyfriend put on at their last FaceTime call. The one where he suggested they took a break.

He figures he should turn off the television when the performance comes to an end. No need to rub anymore salt in the wound, as Rey said.

Yet Finn sticks around for the interview because… because what? He hates himself? He hates Poe?

Neither. Maybe he misses him. Of course he misses him, enough to fight back the sobs, far from sober. But he’ll fight that obvious realisation, as well.

“Thank you for coming in tonight!” the host tells the singer, who thanks him in turn for the opportunity. Always the golden boy. The image of polite, kind, heart full of love, yet so goddamn stubborn.

“Mothers love me.” Poe had told him, back in college, the smug idiot. Finn’s mother loves him.

It’s mostly questions about the album, the upcoming tour, pictures of his parents and his pearly whites gleam when he speaks of them, how proud they are of him. It envelops Finn like a warm embrace. Huh. They haven’t hugged in five months.

They haven’t seen each other in five months.

Then the host starts grinning like a maniac, and he’s got a hunch what’s coming now is what he’s been wanting to ask all along, “Evidently, you got a lot of ladies who love you here.”

Audience cheers. Poe runs a hand through his hair. He’s so nervous, it’s adorable.

“You got a special lady in your life?” a question that quiets the audience significantly, still, waiting.

The singer glances at his shoes like they’re the most fascinating thing in the universe. Finn can’t hold his glass still, because, yeah. He looks like he’s thinking about it too hard. He wants to save him from that situation.

And although it feels like a million years pass, it’s probably only ten seconds before the reply settles, “Not at the moment, no.”

The crowd is nothing less than thrilled. And not only women, as the host implied, nah, everyone in that studio recognizes what a heartthrob Poe Dameron is. Finn couldn’t agree more.

What he knows about his ex-boyfriend that the strangers in the TV don’t know is, obviously, that Poe’s not interested in the ladies.

So does his family and close friends, anyone out of show business, really.

He also knows why his ex-boyfriend isn’t out to the public about his sexuality, yet. Or he’s got an idea. Maybe. Finn convinces himself of that, because then, he can also convince himself that he’s not the only one still feeling he’s being torn to pieces by this breakup. Feels better.

Although the screen connecting to his boyfriend’s call tugs on his heartstrings with its familiar warmth, Finn is, above all, pissed.

And for some reason, he feels ashamed for that. He knows he shouldn’t.

Poe hasn’t been home in a month. He was supposed to be here two weeks ago, but due to press bookings, credit to his boyfriend’s brand new agent, he called Finn late at night apologising like a broken record and promising to make it up to him.

And it makes him feel like shit.

Every apology made him feel more guilty for… harboring his time. Which is crazy, because they’ve been going steady for three years. They talked about this, the possibility of long distance, and knew, definitely, that it was gonna be hard, especially since they’ve been attached by the hip for so long.

Thing is, this has happened three times now, and it’s made Finn question himself.

Is he good enough for Poe? then later, another thought creeps in, Is Poe tired of him? or… is he not in love with him anymore?

Finn feels like he’s going crazy.

And even when he sees his boyfriend’s soft curls and eyes full of sunshine pop on his phone, it’s those thoughts that still inhabit his head. Fuck.

“Baby!” Poe says, excitement gleaming right through him and into Finn’s bedroom. They’ve been talking about moving in together, but, well, with long distance, mostly only talk for now. He’s off chasing the fame, which he deserves more than anyone, thank you very much, and Finn’s already booked up with art galleries and auctions eagerly grasping for his paintings. It feels like they’ve made it.

Except, “Phasma’s got me on Jimmy Kimmel! Like, can you believe that?!” his boyfriend spills out everything from this week, and it warms Finn’s chest, his gut, all the way down to his toes. But at the same time, this being Poe’s first words to him stirs weirdly alongside that warmth.

His career’s important. Of course. Finn’s happy for him, like, over the moon, all the way across the solar system happy.

He wants him to be successful. So then… then why does it feel like Poe prioritises it over them? It’s probably him overthinking it, he reasons. Again.

Finn can definitely feel he’s supposed to be sleeping right now; that’s another thing, cursed with being in vastly different time zones. He listens, smiling half-tiredly, thoughts wandering to everything and nothing.

Which is why he finds himself, all of a sudden, replying to his boyfriend’s, “I, uh, I’m actually writing you another song. Don’t laugh, please,” with, “A secret kind of song? ”

It takes Poe by surprise, visibly, and it takes himself, as well.

Finn bites down on his tongue in the cringe of it all. His boyfriend’s blinking, slowly, probably waiting for some sort of elaboration, but when he has no idea what to say, Poe inquires, “What do you mean?”

He sighs. Wholeheartedly, wistfully, nostalgic.

Finn thinks about when Poe asked him out, driving up to his window in true cheesy romantic comedy style and having offered to write essays in exchange for a school marching band performance.

Their first date, eating cotton candy and the curly haired boy insisting on trying and failing to win Finn a prize, until finally facing defeat. He won Poe a prize instead, first try, so the previous grumpiness faded in a matter of seconds. The butterflies threatened to burst his stomach the entire day.

Their first time, clumsy and awkward, teeth clanging in kisses and stupid buttons in Finn’s shirt being stuck and they laughed until they were out of breath. It was more perfect than anything either of them could’ve imagined.

He thinks about this, because neither of them were out before they got together.

This coming out thing? It scared the shit out of Finn. He was so lucky to have a supportive family, supportive friends. The school was a mixed experience, but he and Poe were in it together. His boyfriend tried to play it cool, but he knew how scared he was, too. He knows like the back of his hand, almost.

And this concern, it makes him feel so guilty he might vomit.

“I just… I was just wondering if you wanted to be official.”

“We are official, Finn.”

“No, I-I mean, public.”

He gulps around the growing lump in his throat. Poe goes scarily quiet.

This is also something they’ve talked about before. Fame is so new, it’s a whole new leap, learning how to handle all this, so it didn’t bother either of them to be secretive about their relationship, so to speak.

Their close network still knew, obviously, but the music industry, Hollywood, that’s way, way different than Finn’s newly established and growing network of artist connections and colleagues.

It wasn’t a problem. Until it was.

Coming out is personal. But ever since his boyfriend said he wanted to go public, then didn’t, as they were both on edge, then decided they should move in together and go public to slam down journalists linking Poe to a member of a girl group he met last summer, then didn’t.

It’s happened a couple of times. And finally, it seems, Finn is coming to terms with being tired of being ready and then backing out.

He’s terrified. Terrified of Poe being embarrassed of him, which he knows sounds crazy, also. But fuck.

“Baby, we’re gonna do it,” his boyfriend reassures him, but he’s distraught now, “You know we are. My agent just talks about my image, you know, I need to make sure-”

“Your image?”

That… that pisses Finn off. Conclusively. Because what the fuck?

“Phasma thinks we should do it at Christmas, season of love, you know?” Poe smiles shyly, he always loved the holidays. And he just doesn’t know how to react. “She’s fine with it, like, she didn’t ask me to fake being straight, like the guy I talked with before. Just-

“Are you embarrassed of me, Poe?” he finds the words slipping out before he can stop his mouth.

His boyfriend’s eyes widen significantly on the small screen, opens and closes his mouth several times, and there’s definitely a yell from somewhere in the studio, but Poe ignores it completely, “Of course not. Finn, I’m the luckiest guy in the world because of you. I just really… really think we need to time this right.”

“I,” Finn starts, but he’s barely sure where he’s going with the sentence. All he knows is that he’s scared Poe might tell him that all this time meant nothing to him. He doesn’t know why he leaps to that, but he does. His boyfriend might find something better than him in the limelight, “I know. You’ve told me, and I get it, I do. It’s just difficult being so far away from you, and then…”

He feels himself drifting off into a cloud of numbness and nothing, but Poe interrupts the sentence, “I thought you’d be more supportive of my career.” Finn nearly jumps. The words don’t sound cold, per say. But it’s weird. The good old butterflies flutter hesitantly, sort of in question.

“I am, darling, I-” he sighs again, “I’ve always been. You’ve just seemed like you’re ready, and I got the feeling that your agent didn’t want you to, and-” “Phasma wants it.”

“But on Christmas, Poe. This Christmas. I’m just scared you’re…” Finn shakes his head at himself, decides to be completely honest, because that’s how relationships work. Right? “Waiting for the moment to end this.”

“End this?” his boyfriend’s voice raises just an octave, looking perpetually confused. He also, admittedly, looks pissed. Hurt. “Do you want to break up with me?”

“No! Why would I-

“You’re the one who brought it up.”

Finn rubs his eyes, feels like they’re on goddamn fire. Poe’s biting his lips, rummaging around after moving what he assumes is a more private room than before, and avoiding eye contact. They shouldn’t be doing this on the phone. They shouldn’t be doing this at all.

He wishes his boyfriend was next to him, so he could curl up on his chest and sleep the entire weekend. It’s all he wants.

Ultimately, Finn makes the suggestion, “Baby, I’m sorry, I just… why don’t I call you next time you’re free? Or can you… are you getting back anytime soon?”

He doesn’t know how to describe this feeling, what’s happening, in any other way than it seems like Poe’s on a different planet than him, drifting in a meteor rain.

What Finn doesn’t expect least of all is his boyfriend’s answer, “Nah, you know, if you feel like that, we should take a break. A breather.”

And Poe smiles, but he sees through that bullshit. It doesn’t reach his eyes.

He’s trying to play it cool. Fuck. Why are Finn’s eyes stinging, now?

“A break?”

“Yeah.”

That’s so much to process. Fucking process it. The protests are bubbling under his skin, boiling and ice cold at the same time, but he doesn’t get the time when the yells on the end of the world resume.

“I really should go.” Poe tells him, but he doesn’t sound like he wants to.

“Poe…” he tries to breathe around the butterflies currently panicking inside of him. He’d scream at them to stop for just five seconds, if he could. His boyfriend’s already getting up from the seat, which is why Finn pinches the bridge of his nose and tries not to look at him, “Okay. Okay.”

The silence that settles between them, then, until they end the call in confusion and boiled up emotion, is far from the comfort they’ve been accustomed to. It ends without a goodbye. Without an I love you.

So, naturally, he gets absolutely zero sleep that night.

Whenever Rey told them they were being overdramatic, she was probably right. This is no exception.

Ever since the damnation of their FaceTime call, Finn tried to get into his head what went down. Namely, him and his boyfriend speaking over each other’s heads. It settles in the morning, the realisation that Poe assumed the worst of what he said, while he himself didn’t understand why he couldn’t come home . Just one day. Just to talk this out.

But in a recognizable stubborn fashion, his boyfriend ignored his calls and texts for the weekend. Finn tried so, so hard not to get pissed again. But also, Poe actively avoiding him made him want to cry. Not being able to just hear his voice made him want to cry.

Naturally, the following week, when his boyfriend decided to reach out, Finn became the one to ignore all forms of contact. It felt like they were walking in circles.

This is new and raw territory.

Finn and Poe don’t fight. It’s a basic law of the universe.

Which is why he doesn’t blame Rey for widening her eyes in shock at this new development. He also knows that she wants to intervene, badly so, given how protective she is of them, but because she’s lovely she always somehow knows when Finn needs his own space to think. Or scream into the void a little bit, whatever does the trick.

He’s pretty sure she didn’t expect this to go on for four months, now. He sure as hell didn’t expect it.

But… they’re both to blame. Finn’s pretty much dug himself a hole in the ground filling up with all his feelings, and as every week passes by, waits for his boyfriend to make the first move. He expects Poe to do the same. Nothing’s moving forward.

So, if Rey didn’t know him as she did, she’d ask him why.

Why don’t you just call him? He could. When his boyfriend stopped ignoring him, that is. Thing is, Finn’s world is sort of crumbling right now, and a confrontation with that isn’t something he can handle, he thinks.

It’s the thought of losing Poe for good. It’s the thought of Poe thinking Finn doesn’t want him anymore, when in fact he fears the exact opposite.

After watching that interview, though, he could breathe a little easier, he’ll admit.

And it’s weird. He felt inherently about a hundred times worse during it. The day after, he just kept thinking about Poe and his stupid curls and his nervous smile and what he might be doing while Finn was helping his sister with the dishes.

Maybe it’s knowing his boyfriend- ex-boyfriend (?) is okay. Does look more okay than himself.

It calms him. The next day, it makes Finn want to burn up all their polaroids and mail the ashes to the singers’ hotel in a massive envelope. As said before, this hole is deep, too deep, making it difficult to be rational.

A week after the interview, he’s just about on the edge to complete numbness.

Maybe he’s been reading those hilarious dumb gossip magazines whenever his boyfriend was on the cover. Shut up. If he acknowledges the ridiculousness of that, it’ll only make it worse.

Finn feels weak for being this torn up after a breakup… or break. He’s had breakups before Poe, but none of them hurt like this. Does it ever just fucking stop?

Apparently not, because when he picks up the phone with Rey’s name flashing, Finn expects it to be another question of what’s going on. How he’s doing, or not even a question, but an order to let her in as she’s probably already standing in front of his building carrying ice cream and bad horror movies.

He doesn’t get why she doesn’t just use the key he got her already, but it’s still endearing. Except, “Turn on the radio.”

“What?

“Finn, turn on your radio. Trust me.”

And so he scrambles around, the determination in her voice definitely not something to mess around with. Finn eventually uncovers it underneath the mountain of Poe’s vinyl records, and while his best friend doesn’t even tell him what station she’s referring to, he’s got a feeling about it. Also, it’s the first station that pops through the speakers when he turns it on, so.

Then, he has absolutely no idea what to listen for. The hosts are making some jokes about the song they’re gonna play next, thereozing about a “lost love” , and Finn’s about to ask until he realises Rey’s hung up on him, and a text.

just wait. u won’t regret it.

It’s too ominous for his best friend’s usual shenanigans. He’s a little worried.

But unlike the last hellish, unbelievable four months, Finn doesn’t have much time to worry, before the voices announce, “We present an exclusive live performance from our new favorite heartthrob, Poe Dameron!”

Oh God. Oh God, oh shit, oh my god.

Naturally, Finn’s anxiety kicks in like a punch in his gut.

In fact, he’s about to pull up his best friend’s contact again, sick of hearing the single that Poe wrote for him and not even being able to revel in the feeling anymore. Only it’s not ‘cardigan’.

Four months ago, a few days before they decided to take a break, his boyfriend sent him a couple of voice notes, containing lyrics and guitar pieces and other bits for the album he wanted Finn’s approval on. He always wanted his opinion first. It makes him all warm again.

This song, however, is brand new, unheard to everyone’s ears. Including Finn.

“I'm doing good, I'm on some new shit

Been saying "yes" instead of "no"

I thought I saw you at the bus stop, I didn't though

I hit the ground running each night

I hit the Sunday matinée

You know the greatest films of all time were never made”

The melody has the same calm like the other songs he’s heard, an image of fairytales and bare feet dancing in the woods and stars twinkling in the night.

The melancholy is unfamiliar, though.

“I guess you never know, never know

And if you wanted me, you really should've showed

And if you never bleed, you're never gonna grow

And it's alright now”

Finn’s thumb hovers over Rey’s contact name, but he can’t bring himself to move.

It’s the alright part. Except, despite how much he tries to lie to himself, he swears to everything god that his boyfriend’s voice breaks over the word. It’s subtle enough that the interviewers could pass it on as him being hoarse, he reasons, but Poe can’t fool him.

He wants him to be okay. Actually, no, because being okay means not missing Finn like Finn misses him, and that would hurt more than anything he can imagine. But also, he’s too far away for a reassuring hand. That’s why he wants him to be okay.

“But we were something, don't you think so?

Roaring twenties, tossing pennies in the pool

And if my wishes came true

It would've been you”

For some reason, it’s only then it settles into Finn’s mind.

Oh.

The song keeps going, and his emotions keep going, from the chaotic jumbled mess he’s become accustomed to a quiet buzz. He feels like his breathing’s slowed down, and a pocket in his heart is being emptied onto the floor.

Poe feels exactly the same way, he imagines. He has to.

Finn’s abandoned his phone somewhere unknown between the couch cushions, and he’s stuck staring at the empty wine bottle he hasn’t had the energy to get rid of, his microwave dinner half eaten, until his ex-boyfriend’s song comes to an end.

‘the 1’ is the title. He doesn’t know if he’s crying or not, which sounds a bit dumb in his own head.

“Poe Dameron!” one of the interviewers yells obnoxiously, clearly trying to hold in their excited giggling, “Those were quite emotional lyrics. I’m guessing there’s a story there somewhere?”

Finn could roll his eyes into the next century at that comment. Jesus Christ.

The singer’s complained about these kinds of people before, of course, he chuckles, politely, hesitantly, probably spinning the best way to avoid opening that door of vulnerability on open air, “I think everyone writes from their own experience, really.”

His voice has the same elegance and softness and gruff that makes Finn think of home, despite the tinny speakers and distraction that vibes off of him, all the way over in the states. It’s unbelievable.

The interview keeps going in the most standard way possible, a couple more questions Poe subtly circles around (including about dating, obviously), some jokes, and they eventually get to that segment where the listeners can call in and ask their own question to the dreamy man.

Some are boring, some are weird, some are intrusive, some are just teen voices in awe of his relatability and what not, mountains of flattery which his boyfriend is all too shy and starstruck to handle.

Finn bites his lip.

They repeat the number of the radio twice. The programme ends at nine. That means about forty five minutes of fan questions.

He shouldn’t. This is ridiculous. But what if… what?

Poe’s voice somehow carries his hand to fish the phone up again, though, like a strike of magic. And then the tone sounds, one, two, three, and it’s too late to take it back now. Shit.

“You’re live! Can our next lucky listener introduce yourself and your question?”

He tries so hard, desperately so, to swallow around the lump in his throat, seeming impossibly massive. The eerie silence is simply too painful to bear, though, so Finn squeezes his eyes shut hard for two seconds, before forcing the reply out.

“Yes, uh, hi. This is Finn Solo. From Pennsylvania.”

A beat. “Pennsylvania?! Well, honey, that’s actually Poe Dameron’s home state, isn’t it?”

Two beats. The singer clears his throat. “Yeah.” Clearly, he recognizes his voice in an instant. Well, obviously, he’d be shocked if he didn’t. Still, Finn feels like curling up in a ball and hiding from the world. He wonders if Rey’s listening, right now.

The interviewer seems unfazed from Poe’s hesitated answer, or they just choose to ignore it, he supposes. “The floor is yours, Finn. Ask ahead!”

So… how is he supposed to do this, again?

This is the worst idea Finn’s had in his entire life. Seriously. And he accepted Rey’s dare to swing all the way up and around the swingset in fifth grade, he’s well aware of what reckless looks like. This is it.

Still, he’s stuck now. Poe’s listening to him. Kind of forced to.

And against his own better judgement, Finn silences the million overthinking thoughts in his inner ear by simply saying whatever hits him first, “Did you mean what you said? In the song?”

Seconds feel like fucking hours right now.

“Sorry, can you-” one of the hosts start, but he feels moved to continue. “When did you write it?”

It’s low, the feedback of his boyfriend’s microphone can just be made out. He prays that was only comprehensible enough for Poe’s own ears, because Finn could never possibly live with himself if he outed the person he loves most in the world. Seems so, given the interviewer once again asks the singer in confusion.

“What do you say, Poe? Do you need, uh… for him to elaborate?”

“No.” the man says simply, shyness seemingly having faded away in a glimpse. “Finn, I wrote this back in May.”

Four months ago. Same month as their FaceTime call.

“Only a week after our call. Took me five hours. I needed to get every word just right.” Poe says those words so steadily it shocks Finn. His hand feels numb and itchy around the tiny device, and one of the hosts gasps.

“I-” he starts, but has no idea where to go, where to turn. Finn didn’t expect any of this tonight. A deep breath is needed, “Do you mean… you wrote it about me?”

He feels like an absolute idiot for asking, even doubting it, but given the emotional rollercoaster he’s been through up until now, he’s grasping for straws of confirmation. Poe chuckles, barely audible.

“All my songs are about you, darling.”

What the fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. Another gasp is heard in the studio, a little louder this time, but he sends a silent thanks, still, to them being too taken aback to intervene.

Okay, these are definitely tears in Finn’s eyes, now.

One rolls down, cool against his hot cheek, and he almost wants to laugh widely, processing what’s happening over and over in his brain.

What’s mostly replaying is the nickname that he’s missed… too much.

If they were in the same room, in front of each other, alone , he could say and ask a million things. This conversation is impossibly too vulnerable for open air, but Finn really thinks, really, that this step was needed. At least, it’s something he’s been longing to hear.

Instead of breaking down in the happiness and sadness he’s feeling, instead of talking about the miscommunication they’ve been the victim of, he smiles. Can’t stop. It’s hurting his whole face, actually, but his chest feels endlessly lighter.

“If… uh,” Finn chuckles at himself again, him and his stupid emotions, probably laced obviously in his voice, “Is there a chance that you still want to write songs about me?”

Poe laughs back, warmer and wobblier than before. “Of course. Of-fucking-course. There’s no one else I’d rather write about.”

Those hosts over there are probably freaking out big time, but Finn can’t bring himself to care much.

They sigh rather in unison. Him and his boyfriend. Breathing shaky and yet steadying themselves, almost. Together.

“Okay. Okay. Thank fuck,” he finds himself sniffling, “Okay.”

“They’ll always be about you.”

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