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self-spaghettification · 18 hours

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Aaravos’s Endless Cold

because of @sthormiiii’s headcanon— I was thinking about how Aaravos has to wear a cloak because he’s cold and. this spawned. Oops

Despite his mastery of both sun and sky, while the powerful archmage could do anything within reason, heating or cool the temperature of the room without a thought, he could not help finding himself freezing regardless. it was the sort of inner chill that soaked you to your bones. that left him shivering and hands trembling with no reason at all, despite the way the fire blazed right in front of him, dancing across his hands, within him.

he found his body’s involuntary reactions to his solitary confinement an inelegant limitation of his form so he took to wearing a cloak so that as he checked his reflection in the ceaselessly watching mirror, he might not have to look upon the stars that glistened faintly on his skin like the sweat that coated it regardless of his ever constant slight adjustment to temperature. The stars that once shone brightly and winked at him warmly from his skin whispering sweetly of wonders now angrily hummed minor chords and squinted in disdain. It ached in a way more tangible somehow than the constant ache of the inky black tear in the fabric of his ethereal being. He had grown so very, very tired of the pain, and had more important things to attend to. He vaguely wondered what it was like to know temperature, to know love, but with no real commitment to the concept any further. Every time he stretched his mind out to touch the constellations and divine their alignment he was slapped back, his black heartache ate at him and took his stars.

Tears rolled down his face, of no real consequence. He gently touched the black mark making him a mocking example of monstrousness, which he grown used to nonetheless. The days still passed, regardless of the impossibility of knowing. Once, he would have let them take all of him in the darkness, given into the icy cold, the shivering and tears. But withering numb and purposeless into dry tinder, it was fire he must utilize, dancing across the table, the pit, his hands, burning inside him, and after each bout of those desolate days of darkness—the sun must always rise, mustn’t it—he had grown used to setting fires and burning candles and wearing cloaks to mark his time and burn away his aches. It was enough to believe almost- almost—that the shivers had gone away. So be it, it made no difference if his stars sweat in cold fury or his core shivered in the terrifying icy hunger of a vacuum from the ever open wound. As much as possible, he would cover and neglect them just as the stars taught him—

excommunicated.

#I forgot to post this here oops. But here it is now #I did not check this for spelling/capitalization errors and I am not going to we die like butterflies #tdp fic #tdp hc #My writing #the dragon prince #self spaghettification #aaravos #I’m waiting to post it to AO3 because I want to have like a little collection of stories from Aaravos POV and like get a full narrative #tdp angst #aarangst

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thychesters · 1 year

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Can you keep a secret? Luffy asks him one of the first nights they’re out at sea, just the two of them and their aimless wandering toward the Grand Line and a crew that doesn’t yet exist beyond the two of them. Zoro rolls his head from where it rests on his arms, wrist and knuckles digging into the wood beneath them. Luffy blinks back at him in the dark, straw hat pillowed on his chest and no longer awaiting a response. It’s okay, sometimes I can’t either.

Depends on what it is, I guess, Zoro says, If it’s not my business I don’t want any part in it. But it’s also not my secret to tell.

He shrugs, about to turn away again, but there’s a hesitation in breaking Luffy’s gaze, something powerful in it that leaves him feeling as if he’s been exposed down to his very core, and all Luffy does is blink at him and yawn.

‘M not a very good liar, Luffy tells him after he��s rolled back away from him to watch the night sky spread out above them like spilt ink. Would you ever lie to me?

Zoro’s tongue is heavy with copper and salt before he swallows. Depends, again, he thinks, could you lie to me? He doesn’t lie, doesn’t have any reason to, has never favored nor respected it to begin with. And yet, he says, Would it keep you safe?

Luffy turns to face him, nails scratching along the straw and says, Does it ever?

He thinks, it could, thinks, I don’t know, thinks, let’s hope we never find out.

Can you keep a secret? and a ghost whispers into the shell of his ear and says you must.

And Zoro says, no, I don’t think so.

#zolu #roronoa zoro #monkey d luffy #one piece #two dudes .... chilling in a dinghy two inches apart because there's no room #you know how sometimes there are those little white lies that you tell because you think they'll protect someone #but then they build up and reach a head and the truth comes spilling out and it only hurts people? who did it protect then?#i'm about to start the skypiea arc tonight (butterfly in the skyyyy)#and i'm grumpy because i have at least 3 fic ideas i need to wait to finish and watch more in order to properly execute #so instead here's another little post again from zoro's pov in the east blue #need to write more from luffy's pov. want to give that lil rubber bastard a crisis of his own #in the meantime i have another fic idea for all of the straw hats so maybe i'll work on that #depending on how long it ends up we'll see if it ends up on here or ao3 #what a time to be alive!#kate writes #**

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opens-up-4-nobody · 2 months

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...

#what do you call it when a mind is lacking in depth of m thought? is there a word for that?#because all my mind can do is spin in tiny circles. never push any further. no depth of thought #i cant even carry out this line of thought to completion in my head. i have to write it down like this or else it remains stuck in an eddy #its so frustrating. when my thoughts are pressured i spin so fast it feels like my head might pop but the thoughts never go anywhere #bc they just repeat the same god damn things all thr fucking time. they drag me around in circles. then when im feeling low or even like #normal. my head just feels empty and it freaks me out. i have no intersting thoughts to think. theres nothing behind my eyes #possibly its just my brain on 0cd. but how am i suppose to escape the spiral if its in my own head? i guess im just supposed to changr my #reaction to it. recognize what it is and let it go. but i dont like it #i just want to curl up on a warm tile floor. press myself into a quiet corner and not think anything #in an aquarium or a conservatory. specifically the conservatory in Columbus. i love that place #i went there for my birthday when i was like 12 bc i liked it so much. the botanically gardens and the butterflies and the stained glass #i dunno. i just like it there. ugh. im just tired #god. there was a really cool talk today and im always like im not that inattentive lol but then i cannot for the life of me follow a talk or #read a paper all thr way through. my short term working memory is just a tiny little cup. easy to overfill #so i miss mostly everything. its so frustrating #its all frustrating. whatever. back to the psychiatrist tomorrow. probably up thr lamicta1 dosage #bc im past where i was last time i had a reaction to it 💪#i just wish i wanted to draw. drawing just makes me tired and impatient rn #unrelated

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beachbabey · 1 year

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regressed reader crying when daddy cyclone has to go away for a weekend for work, but daddy bob spends the whole weekend with you instead and takes care of you and when cyclone comes back u have cuddles with them both before falling asleep in their arms because you feel all safe :(

The ending to this was so awful I'm so sorry my brain just didn't know when to stop because I had SO MANY THOUGHTS!!!! I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT MY LOVE!!!

Oh, you'd be clinging onto his leg with an iron grip, if you weren't so upset you'd feel bad for Bob, standing to the side, having to deal with your painfully apparent disdain for his company. But this headspace wasn't a nice one. Being so upset and not being able to do much more than cry, as you see it, Daddy was going away and Bobby was taking his place.

"B-but why do you have to go? Don't want you to go, Daddy, don't want Bobby, want you!" you sob softly, letting go of his pant leg and slumping to the ground, sitting with your head hung low, small hiccups and sniffles coming from you. Beau sighs and drops his briefcase, crouching down to your level, giving a small smile to Bob before turning to you and smoothing your hair down, urging you to look at him.

"Oh my little Flopsy, please don't cry, Bobby's gonna take good care of you whilst Daddy's out of town, and Daddy's gonna call you every night before bedtime" He presses a kiss to your forehead, checking his watch and sighing once again, he was gonna miss his flight if he didn't leave, bringing you in for a hug, wrapping his thick warm arms around your shoulders before pecking your cheek, standing up and collecting his things, turning to Bob, giving him a small nod, bringing his hand up to clasp the younger man's shoulder.

"Thank you for this, they should be fine by the evening, I promise they'll warm up to you, it's just the first time I've been away when they're this little." He explained, Bob smiles and gives a quick nod

"Don't worry about it, I'm happy to help. You should go, you're already late"

"Goodbye little one, Daddy's gonna miss you!" He gets no response, you just look up at him, silently pleading him with those big watery eyes, keeping your focus on him until the door closes. As soon as you hear the lock click, you immediately get up and run to your room, slamming your door (Which in normal conditions would earn you a time out on the stairs) and curl up on your bed, tearing up once more.

After 30 minutes go by, knuckles rapping against the bedroom door, “How’re you holding up, honey?”

Bob's voice was as gentle and careful as it always was, and now that your anger had fizzled away, you wanted him, no he wasn't Beau, but he'd taken care of you a handful of times, and you wanted his love and comfort. He was there to look after you, you knew that, and you knew he'd cuddle you and play with you as much as you want.

He pops his head around the door and slowly, you sat up, keeping all your stuffies and blanket in your arms, your eyes reluctantly finding his.

“Miss Papa, Bobby.” you whimpered, cheeks flushed a deep pink from all your crying, Bob immediately sits on the bed beside you, the sight of you so upset breaking his heart a little.

“I know sweetheart. I’m sorry, it's hard but you're gonna be just fine, I promise. You want Bobby to hold you? I’m right here,” he keeps his voice soft as he speaks to you, and the tenderness and concern in his voice makes you burst into tears again. You could only nod and reach out for him, letting him wrap you up in his arms.

The weekend passed by in the blink of an eye, you had spent that evening in Bobby's arms, lazily sucking on your pacifier, leaning your head on his chest as a cartoon played. And before you knew it, it was Monday morning, and you plodded downstairs, swallowed up in one of Beau's old shirts, stuffie clutched in your hands and a paci in your mouth, searching for Bobby, wanting some breakfast.

"Good morning Bunny Rabbit" You hear a deep, sleep-filled voice say, frowning as you lift your head up, eyebrows furrowed as you try to find the source of the sound.

That didn't sound like Bobby, but you were still half asleep, head filled with morning fuzz.

"Papa?" you hum behind your pacifier, turning around to find him on the couch in the living room, smiling tiredly at your surprised expression, gasping and dropping your stuffie, running into his arms, sitting on his lap and shoving your face into his neck, feeling tears start to trickle down, seeing Bob sitting next to him, nursing a cup of coffee in his hands.

"Missed you, Papa....so so much"

“Shh, Papa's got you now” he soothes you, turning your head to perch in on his shoulder to look at Bob, reaching out for his hand and playing with his fingers, softly whining as you felt Beau move you in his arms.

“Just getting comfy butterfly.” You felt your cheeks warm at the pet name, and bury your face into his shoulder, earning a giggle from Bob

“There she is,” Beau cooed, stroking his hand down the expanse of your back

“How about we dry these tears, huh bub?” Bob rubs his nose against yours before bringing the sleeve of his sweater up to your face, gently brushing away the tears.

“There we go,” He smiles at you before swooping in to pepper your face in kisses for being such a good girl. You let out a delighted squeal. Beau joins in, letting his fingers dance along your ribs, making you squeal and wiggle in his lap.

“Bobby told Daddy that you've been such a good bunny whilst I was away, Daddy is so proud of you Angel, so so proud" He whispers, letting you settle down, all the emotion and excitement wiping you out, you close your eyes, feeling Beau start to gently scratch your scalp, Bobby's fingers linking with your own again, rubbing his thumb across the back of your hand. You sighed in relief as you fully allowed your eyes to droop, feeling the tip of your paci, which you didn't even realise you dropped being pushed against your lips, slowly taking it into your mouth and sleepily suckling on it, letting out a big exhale through your nose and relaxing into their warmth, dozing off in the early morning light in the arms of both men.

#squeeee this was so fun to write #beau simpson x little!reader #beau and butterfly #cyclone x reader #bob floyd x little!reader #bob floyd x reader #beau cyclone simpson #beau cyclone simpson x reader

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todayisafridaynight · 5 months

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not to make people believe in me and my work ethic but im lowkey a liiiitttttleeee stoked to share the fics ive been cookin lately..

#snap chats #its only two. if i even decide to post them we know how i am #BUT NOOOO i think i like what i have so far... i spent all evening working on them #which means nothing cause All Evening consisters 80% of just watching youtube videos while thinking of what i should write #but yeah :) i think i like what i have :)#theyre cute :) i think :) one of them is. i dont think the other one is but whatever anyway #Unrelated Tag Ramble Time found out the building my dad and his wife work at's called monarch #and of course that reminded me of my baby boy drew because i still refuse to believe he's a papillion #but he is... i still see it.. it's not just the face but also his ears #Which Sounds Like A Lie cause his ears dont look super like traditional papillion ears #but they have like. The Buds of it if that makes sense <- it doesnt #idk something bout his ears just screams Butterfly Wings.. maybe its how the little stray hairs remind me of swallowtail butterflies #ok bye im making pizza . which is funy as hell cause my br just came home with pizza. from work. where i got my pizza #SMALL WORLD ok bye. alsohave you guys ever drank kombucha what is this shit <- is gonna finish it #it reminds me of seltzer but if it wanted me to kms. sorry i compare everything to seltzer its the only thing i drink apparently #OK BYE my dog wont stop looking at me.... he wants me to play fetch with him.... well when you look so handsome Lil Man #who am i to say no right. OK BYE HE'S CRYING MY BABYS CRYING

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waitingforthesunrise · 11 months

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safe, I am feeling a welcome return. today when I was feeling lonely my sister messaged me. i slept seven hours for the first time in a week. I drank chilled water and said goodbye to my family and although I’m out right now I feel like I’m at home. My shoulders ache in a tired and familiar way. This morning I thought about your blog and prayed “lord, wouldn’t it be nice if…” silently to myself. Lo and behold. Thank you. today maybe I’ll have a smoothie. Perhaps I will walk back slowly.

today

I do not think I am alone in the world. not anymore.

today

breath is coming easier. my heart has loosened

around the tight corners of expectation and hard-earned travel.

I have been returning to myself

in every light, in every grace. the wind has changed

and with it, me.

alone never meant lonely.

breath on breath; the quiet exhalation of a blossoming world.

does the journey end? or only ease?

I think home is something you carry around with you. like hell

like the panic I've pulled from my chest. My shoulders are tired.

I have done the bravest thing a person can do --

I stopped running.

look at the world! look at it! the sacred and the sanity

of our whispered prayers. I think our soul is shaped like a star

and we burn for the things we love most. messages. wind. goodbyes are not forever. I will be okay, I will be okay, I will be.

I am returning to life. have I forgotten how to live? to breathe?

My shoulders are tired, for I have carried a love

and done battle for my heart. the water tastes like beginnings

there is no end, my love. not to us

not to those tied to our souls. we always go on.

lo and behold, the world is listening

as we weave another story.

there is time. time for fresh starts and quiet pauses. time

for the little reclamations of our souls.

perhaps I will walk back slowly

and drink in the sounds of the earth, new every morning. I am waking up to a self that feels like home.

and what do we wish for?

to hold our smoothies

and know we are loved.

behold. the wind is new, and there is time for it all.

#thank you lovely anon #I hope you enjoyed this :))#I abosultely loved what you wrote #I could feel it through the words #maybe you could write a poem about it yourself :)#my inspiration song for this was butterflies by tom odell and aurora #as well the slowed version of home by edith whiskers #original poetry #oh and most particularly this little life by tom rosenthal

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softquietsteadylove · 10 months

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Hello! Hope you are doing well?

May I request another one for the Circus one?

It was very angsty and dramatic and we want more!! 😲

Gil sighed as he walked out of his sleeper car and down to the lake. He wasn't having much luck resting while the train was stopped. It seemed counter-intuitive, but he was used to the rattle and clatter of the train moving while he was sleeping. He was aware of so much when it was parked.

"Miss Thena?"

She whirled around, alarmed to have been found with her feet in the water. She wrapped her shawl tighter around herself.

"I-I'm sorry!" Gil stammered, rushing to assure her that he meant no harm nor intrusion. He averted his eyes from the lady in just her night slip, "I didn't-"

"It's fine, Gilgamesh."

He peeked at her just a little. He was a gentleman, after all. She looked more calm now, though, even smiling a little. His eyes adjusted to the dark with only the moon over them. It made her hair seem to glow.

"I was just," she paused, looking down at the beach under her bare feet again.

He looked down at them as well, only for a moment. Even in the dim light, he could see the red on her otherwise porcelain skin. He frowned, "are you hurt?"

She gave him somewhat of a smile as they both looked up at the moon again, "those shoes I wear are not meant for comfort, I'm afraid."

Gil winced to himself. They were pretty, sure--sparkly and with a heel on them. But he had often wondered what the point of that was considering she was never on the ground during shows.

"I like the water," she admitted so quietly it was nearly swallowed by the gentle lapping of the water on the shore. A breeze travelled over it to them. "I lived by the water before I was married."

Gil looked at her too eagerly. He didn't know much about her life before she was married to Kro. No one did.

"I grew up there with my father," she told him without a great deal of weight to it. Maybe she didn't mourn that life as much as he might have thought. "But that was long ago, now."

Gil watched the hem of her silken night dress dance around her legs. She pulled her shawl tighter as another breeze came over them.

Thena blinked as he slipped the towel he had brought with him around her shoulders. She looked at him.

He blushed, "don't want you to catch a chill, Miss."

She smiled at him, and it seemed so different from the smiles she gave showcomers and investors and even her own husband. This one seemed so real. "You're sweet, you know that?"

Gil shrugged, toying with his hands in front of him like a boy, "I-I guess no one's told me as much."

"Well, you are," Thena stated factually. She looked at him, the moon glinting in her green eyes. Something came over her as she pressed, "that heart of yours is invaluable, Gilgamesh."

"Gil."

"Hm?" she blinked again, but didn't snap at him for interrupting her (like a certain ringleader).

"You could-" Gil shifted on his feet as he found himself drowning in those eyes of hers, "you can call me Gil, Miss. Everyone does."

She smiled again, just a soft, little one. She looked up at the moon before testing it out, "Gil."

It had never sounded so beautiful.

"Miss-"

"Thena," she corrected in turn, smiling as she did. Her eyes lowered the next second, "just for now--when we're alone. Kro would have your head if he heard you addressing me so."

Gil got the impression that Kro would have his head for just about anything he did, let alone when it came to his wife.

"But just," she pulled herself up faintly, edging ever so slightly closer to him on the pebbly sand of the lake shore. Her eyes were so compelling, "just when it's us two...call me Thena?"

Gil's heart slammed in his chest, his mouth dry and his mind going quiet. There was only the breeze and the lake and the woman before him. "Thena."

She lit from within, as if hearing her own name for the first time in her life. He would write a song for just her name if it made her so happy.

"I'm afraid you haven't started under the best circumstances," she drew her brows together and retreated from him again. "My husband...Kro is not a kind man."

Gil's fists tightened; he didn't know much about the ringleader of the circus, but what he did know he positively detested.

"He is many things," Thena half corrected and half elaborated, neither apologising nor shying away from it. "But kind is not one of them."

Gil cleared his throat, not at all in the mood to continue talking about that beast. "I'm surprised he hired me, to be honest."

"I did."

Now that was surprising.

Thena did correct herself somewhat, this time. She shuffled in the sand, tugging at his towel and her shawl around her shoulders. "I insisted on having a proper caretaker for the animals. I've been trying to convince him for ages, but when we found you...you were finally so qualified for the job, and so good with Angus...he could no longer refuse."

She had fought for him.

"I'm glad I was able to convince him to bring you on," she smiled again, at least. "If I am to be incapable of convincing him of anything else in our lives, you are the one good to come of it."

She deserved every good life had to offer.

"Well, I certainly appreciate it M-" Gil nearly bit his tongue, eyes glued to her as his lips forced out, "Thena."

Once again, the sound of her name made her glow with happiness.

He made the effort to smile for her, dragging his thoughts away from her monster of a husband. "I'll do my best to do right by that."

She let out what almost sounded like a light laugh, "you already have."

Gil was happy to just stand and stare, but Thena looked back towards the largest sleeper car on the train, where said monster was sleeping and awaiting her. He looked at her, wondering if it would be so outlandish to suggest taking his hand and running away right this second.

"I should," she let it suffice, nodding her head in the direction of her bed. Gil just nodded, accepting his towel back from her silently. Her feet were silent as she took the first few steps back up the beach, "thank you, Gil--for the company."

He squeezed the towel in his hand, all of the breath in his lungs gone and laying at her feet. "Any time, Thena."

She offered him one last, devastatingly beautiful smile before turning.

Gil watched her go until she disappeared to her car. He had no desire to imagine her crawling back into her bed with Kro waiting there for her. Obviously he hadn't noticed her get up and come out here anyway. Inattentive would be the kindest word Gil would ever muster about him.

He sighed, kneeling down by the water and preparing to wash away the sweat of the day and shave off his scruff. Tomorrow was another long day of show prep and animal wrangling. And he had to do right by the Miss--by Thena.

#Thenamesh Circus AU #thank you for the ask!#I'm so glad this one ended up captivating people!#I did like how it turned out #so I'm happy to do more with it #it is very drama much angst #poor loverboy forlorn Gil #so captivated by this absolute vision of a woman #this creature of sheer grace and beauty #his fallen star #his lightning in a bottle #an angel with her wings pinned in a butterfly box #this Gil for sure writes sappy poetry in a little journal at night #poor boi

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moth-based-cryptology · 1 year

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Ralbert, Sadness

7) “I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I feel like I can’t even breathe without you!”

sorry i do not remember what list this is from that’s my bad

jac !! my love !! i kinda lied when i messaged you about this cause it did not stay nearly as sad as i meant it to but it was fun and i regret nothing !! thank u sm for this even if it took me forever to reply to <33

i don’t think there’s any TWs for this one, i just imply they have an argument of some kind before the start

without further ado, ✨them✨

The dead silence is heavy.

The cold of the bathroom door digs into his back, hard and unrelenting, spine curved awkwardly against the wood from when he slammed it and promptly slunk to the floor, desperately trying to ebb the flow of tears down his cheeks. He can almost see Albert, still frozen in the kitchen of their apartment, suddenly deflated where he was puffed up with anger a moment before. The drop of his head, the red rimmed eyes full of tears that he’ll grit his teeth against. They don’t fight very much, rarely have it in them. But when they do, the Earth shifts with it, rocking rough and dark to its core.

Race doesn’t even remember how it started. They bicker endlessly, a chess match of wit and bark with no bite, a torrent of flirting that comes out snarky, but this wasn’t funny. He goes back to school on Friday, the last semesters before he finally returns to the city of endless motion. It’s been eating him alive, the idea of going back after a winter break that gave him everything he misses when he’s out on the sunny coast of California.

Two more semesters until he’s back in Albert’s little apartment, happy and content. At least… that’s what he expects. Based on their current showing, he’s never been less sure.

If he had to guess, he started it. Albert couldn’t bother him on his own if he wanted to, regardless of how hard he tries, but Race has the unfortunate habit of refusing to admit something else is bothering him. Then, suddenly, unpredictably, he’s fighting with his boyfriend about dinner, and then how much homework he’s still got left to do. And Albert does his best, he really does, but he’s snappy when he’s hungry.

Race really doesn’t know why he’s crying, but he is, and it just won’t stop.

The footsteps aren’t loud, but Race could pick them out in a crowded hall, let alone the crushing quiet. He hadn’t turned the lock on the door, but the door handle doesn’t even rattle, there’s just the rustle of someone sitting on the floor outside of the door. They both know that Race knows he’s there, he always does.

His heart stops trying to shatter through his diaphragm when he twists up onto his knees and opens the door a crack. Albert’s smooth expression cracks at his face, scrunched up and ruddy with traitorous tears, but he barely lets him look before slinking into his arms and hiding his face in his neck.

“‘M sorry I shouted at you. Wasn’t fair,” Albert’s terrible at hiding the chopped up accent when he’s emotional. All his effort goes into sounding soft and sweet instead. “You’ve been stressin’ over whatever’s in that head of yours and I let it bug me.”

“My fault.” It’s barely a murmur, muffled in all the fabric and emotion, words he can feel being protested, but he hates that Albert still lets everything be his fault even when it isn’t.

His tan face has gone blotchy with muddled red, and he sounds like a little kid with a cold, but he lifts his head, letting himself sink into the hold Albert’s got on him so he can see the face he’s got memorized down to the last of the millions of freckles smattered across his nose. There’s a shaky breath, a long moment where all he does is sit, stare, and breathe before he can make himself speak. “I.. Caltech is a crazy experience. I couldn’t have said no when I got that letter on principle, even if I wanted to. But there’s so little there for me, not when you’re here. And it’s two more semesters, I’ll survive, but it’s been crushing me since I left in August.”

“I’m right here waiting for you to come back the entire time you’re gone, you know that?” The arms around his shoulders squeeze tighter, and he squeezes right back around Albert’s middle.

“I know, I promise I know, I just- I.. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, I feel like I can’t even breathe without you!” Race brings a hand up to his cheek, pressing their foreheads together, like he can physically force the clinical cold he feels in the objective warm, welcoming brightness of sunny Pasadena, California, into Albert’s mind through pure will.

“I hear you, I got you, okay?” His callused, warm hand covers Race’s wrist, thumb moving back and forth over the skin. “I’m right there with you, darlin’, like you wouldn’t believe. I miss you somethin’ fierce when you’re gone.”

Despite himself, he can’t help the little laugh at Albert, the halting exasperation at his own southern-ness, even in a serious moment. There’s a long pause, not crushing or uncomfortable or heavy, where he just sits against Albert on the floor and listens to his lungs fill and empty, over and over and over again.

“..You’re supposed to visit your mama upstate over spring break, right?” He hums his assent, eyes roving over his face to try and pick out what he’s getting at. “Have you scheduled your flight yet?”

“No, I was gonna do it on the phone with Jack tomorrow so he can pick me up from the airport once he’s driven up there.” Race’s brow scrunches together, still not seeing what’s making Albert’s eyes light up like that.

“How about I pick you up from JFK and I drive us upstate instead? Unless Miss Medda has some anti-boyfriend policy?” Medda loves him better than any of her own sons and he damn well knows it.

“Really?” Much happier tears well in Race’s eyes now, weepy as he is at the moment. “You’d suffer through two weeks of Jack and Charlie’s shit for me?”

“Might as well, Toni, I get plenty of it texting you when you’re in California, anyway.” Race’s laugh is bright, making Albert’s whole system warm in an instant, glad to have that sunny smile back after days of looming gloom.

“What about your aunts?” He did the several-day-Georgia-road-trip with Albert and his aunts last July, and it was a fun kind of chaotic. This year, the trip is supposed to be in April instead. “Don’t they want you to go south with them?”

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll be glad to have a few days to themselves before they get to grandmama’s. I only played nice on that road trip ‘cause I had someone to impress.” Race would’ve been able to pick out his grin from the sound of his voice alone. “I’m usually much more insufferable.”

He rolls his eyes affectionately, chest full to bursting. “I’ll believe that when I see it.. Thank you.”

Albert hums lightly, and Race can feel it rumble in both of their chests. “I love you, darlin’.”

Race pecks his lips shortly once, then again, and again. “And I love you, even if you yell at me.” He puts petulant anger in his emphasis, like a stompy toddler pouting about a toy.

“I did not yell, drama queen–” He doesn’t want to hear it, so he slaps a hand over Albert’s mouth, having the audacity to act shocked when he rips it away a moment later wet with saliva. Fingers dig in under Race’s ribs, making him squawk and squirm away, their eloquent chess match beginning anew, plans aflame and roiling with light.

fín

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