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simpz-art-stash · 3 years

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Late Beginnings [Ch. 2]

Summary: Macaque’s gotten over the biggest gap on his side of the burnt bridge between him and his broke af relationship with Wukong. Now he’s gotta take an even bigger leap in hopes of getting MK to give him a chance as well.

(Author’s note: DUNNO IF THERE’LL BE MORE BUT WE’LL SEE, FEEL FREE TO SUGGEST STUFF TO PUT IN HERE)

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It should’ve been easy, a kid like MK had a good head on his shoulders, enough to see the good in all besides himself.

It should’ve been easy.

So then why the hell was he still standing on the sidelines mulling over what to say to the kid who was just a few yards away training under the careful eye of his mentor?

What could he say? The same to Wukong? He felt that might be a bit too cliche, even if it had worked.

‘Just barely.’

Mac sighed, brushing his hair back and watching the two practice stillness together, Wukong resting on his tail in a lotus position while MK stood on one foot, straining to keep his posture in check. Even with the staff being used as a counter-balance his muscles flexed against the lack of support in his other leg.

Maybe he could offer him something? Nothing major of course, something innocent but worthwhile and thoughtful. Demon head’s wouldn’t do, the kid had no real use for those, nor would he probably appreciate a trophy that wasn’t his. What did kids even like these days anyways? He thought of toys but, MK was practically a bigger kid than most other cub’s. Most kids like him usually just kept to popular places or their phones…

Decisions decisions…

A small yelp forced him out of his thoughts, his gaze shifting back over to MK who had since fallen back on his butt. Groaning and complaining like usual before Wukong gave him the ol’ ‘keep it up!’ attitude, prompting MK to simply nod and give it another try.

‘Geeze, and I thought my training was harsh. At least I gave him actual critique on his form…’

Then an idea flashed in his mind, popping off like a rocket and he suddenly found himself with something worthwhile.

------~------

“Alright bud, I think that’s enough of that. Why don’t you hit the bench, I need to go check on the kids back inside n’ make sure they haven’t left a mess after that marathon I set up for em.” Wukong claimed, patting MK on the back before turning away. Offering a curt wave as he left, “Call me if you need me!”

“Alright, I will!” MK sighed and made his way over to a makeshift seat, which happened to be nothing more than a split log. And proceeded to take his headband off if not to just drench his hair in some of the water from one of the bottle’s he’d brought along with him. Before guzzling the rest of it down like he hadn’t drank in forever.

“I see he’s been keepin’ you on your toes. Full pun intended.” Mac commented, earning him a startled squeak from MK who had just about spat his drink out when Mac rounded him from behind to sit himself down on the opposing side of the log.

MK had heard a little snippet from MKing about Macaque trying to make amends, he didn’t get the full details but he’d heard enough to know to keep an eye out for the guy. Not that he wasn’t already always on high alert for any suspicious activity.

“Guh- yeah.” MK coughed a little, rubbing his throat a little as he cleared it. “It hasn’t been uh, easy, but I think I’m gettin’ better. Just need to try harder or whatever…”

“Mmm…” Mac let his gaze concentrate on the immortal peach tree Wukong had planted out in the front of his yard, it having long since bloomed and been picked clean.

MK shifted a little under the uncomfortable silence that spread between the two, there wasn’t tension in it per sey, but it was still a lil awkward for him to just outright be chatting it up with the same guy who had once tried to kill him at one point.

“So uh..I was hoping to..make it up to you, what with everything that happened the last time…” Mac’s face squinted a little, his tail irritably swaying behind him, it seemed this was just as awkward for him as it was MK.

“Uhm..okay?..” MK veered a little away from the guy, not too sure how to handle that. “Hey if this is about the whole ‘you trying to kill me thing’ then uh, hey man we’re cool.”

“What? I mean yeah but, it’s more than just that..” Mac fiddled idly with the hem of his cloak, the things color long since having been worn down from the elements. “A lot more…”

“Complicated?” MK quirked a brow at him.

“Yeeaaahh…”

“Heh, been there. Done that.” MK nodded, not that it was anything to be proud of.

“He didn’t tell you?” Mac looked at MK finally with a concerned expression.

“About you and him?? I mean..yeah he told me a lil..mostly just warned me to keep an eye out for you but…” MK rubbed the back of his neck out of nervous habit, shifting under the demon’s gaze.

“Of course he didn’t…” Mac sighed with a frown, “Well, maybe that’s where I can help you out. I know Wukong, he doesn’t exactly give you the full picture so easily, then again he’s never really had a student before either so.”

“So?”

‘So, he won’t just outright give you the benefit of the doubt just like that, especially if you just say you’ll give him whatever advice he wants. He’ll think you’re just trying to pull him from Wukong again or worse.’

“What I mean to say is, if you want to correct your form with that whole balancing thing, you should try putting less focus into just your foot, and put it towards your whole body.” Macaque stated plainly, his gaze shifting away back to the peach tree.

“Oh..uhm..alright?...Thanks???” MK blinked, none too sure what to make of that, but he wasn’t trying to kill him, or hurt his feelings so, maybe that was a good thing??

“Feel free to mention it to him…” Macaque claimed, his gaze softening before he got up finally and began to walk elsewhere.

“h-Wait!” MK called out, standing up right then. To which Macaque of course obliged, though he kept his back facing kid.

“..are you..like...being serious about that whole, ‘making amends’ thing?..” MK squinted at him suspiciously, even if Macaque could lie about his true intentions, MK at least thought it right to ask. Considering everything else…

“Yes.” Mac stated, his tail curling a little behind him.

“Ohkaaay... “ It was still hard to tell but, “Then why’re you trying to?-”

“Because he told me to.” Mac claimed, his head turning just enough to share a glance with the kid. “Don’t get the wrong idea..it was wrong of me, but.”

“Buuut?”

-------~-------

“But whatever you do, you gotta stop lyin’ about the real stuff.”

Mac grunted, that was probably gonna be the hardest trial of his to overcome. For him, lying was basically his day by day means of survival. “I think I’d rather cut my own tongue out at that point an be mute then cut that out.”

The chick shrugged, “Hey, I’m just sayin’. Honesty is the best policy. Even if it hurts to hear it, better said than left for dead. You want em to trust you again? You gotta earn it. A few pretty words ain’t never gonna be enough. You gotta put some effort behind em.”

“Uuuugh.” He rolled his eyes, already regretting having decided to go through with the whole thing. “Fine...but if I get my ass beat because someone couldn’t take the heat, I’ll hunt you down.”

“I’ll take that chance.” The chick smirked.

-------~-------

Macaque sighed, he could already imagine just how easy it’d be to screw up something so casually done by others. Century old lies he’d held onto for most his life being the worst one’s, with how gnarled they were from the many times they’d been knotted by his reasons to keep them from being undone by any means necessary. He’d run from them for such a long time though, enough to the point where he’d finally hit the end of his lead, and now he was forced to look back at the mess he’d caused.

It wasn’t a pretty sight at all.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t go back and try to fix some of it. Now matter how long it took, little by little. He just had to be careful in doing so or else he’d just get himself wrapped up in knots all over again.

“...I..” Just say it, even if it’s half the truth.

“I didn’t want to see you waste that potential under a guy who wouldn’t appreciate it...” Macaque claimed, his gaze shifting away.

That...was probably the first time MK had ever seen Mac show a genuine side of himself before. Even during training he’d been distant and strict, similar to Wukong but a lot less merciful in a spar. Where with Mac, bruises were lessons learned.

“...Thanks. For the uh..advice I mean.”

Macaque stiffened a little at the response, but he didn’t spoil it for fear of ruining what little ground he had on that bridge.

“Anytime.”

And then he was gone.

#shadowpeaches #LMK #lego monkie kid #Sun Wukong #Macaque #MK #my fics #ayeeeee chaptah 2 baebeeeee #just as messy as the last one #with some sloppy seconds #;'D

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one-sad-human · 3 years

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•Sweet Confessions• Izzy Stradlin

Pairing: Izzy Stradlin x Reader

Requested? Nope! But they are open so send them in!

Theme: Fluff

Warnings: Language, alcohol references, and sexual references

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: It’s Izzy birthday!! This fic isn’t birthday related, I finished it last week and decided to post it for his birthday. Enjoy!

The band dragged you out for a night at the bar. Just for a couple drinks to celebrate their successful debut album. But with Guns m Roses, it was never just a few drinks, it had already been two hours.

The band had been your friends since they all got together. You grew up in Indiana with Axl and Izzy, and when they left for LA you weren't too far behind. You had been there for everything. Every lineup change, every argument, and every borrowed— stolen— instrument.

You were their best friend, someone that was valuable to all of them. However, you and Izzy always had a special bond. You and him always clicked, one was never far from the other. Like partners in crime.

Like now, Izzy sat next to you in the booth. His lanky arm was resting around your shoulders, an action that wasn't at all rare. Axl is next to him, watching some blond that's barely dressed near the bar.

You and Izzy are the only somewhat sober ones here. Izzy just wasn't in the mood to get wasted, and you had work in the morning and didn't feel like having a huge hangover. However, that doesn't mean you can't have a few drinks.

"I'm going to go grab another drink," you say after tapping Izzy's arm to gain his attention. He nods and lifts his arm off of your shoulders.

Axl takes his eyes off of the busty blonde he had been gawking at to look at his friend. Axl notices how Izzy's eyes follow your every movement.

"You're being a creep," he tells him. Izzy spares a glance at him and shakes his head.

"I'm just makin' sure she's alright." Axl grabs his beer bottle, his rings clinking on the glass.

"You're watching her like a goddamn hawk." He takes a sip of his drink. "She's a tough girl, she'll be ok if someone hits on her."

"Well maybe I don't want anyone hitting on her," Izzy says. He finally takes his eyes from you to glare at his red headed friend. Axl takes a moment to stare at Izzy.

"You need to just tell her you're in fucking love with her. Seriously, it's getting hard to watch." Izzy rolls his eyes again and takes a sip of his drink. He hates how Axl can always see right through him.

"I'm not in love with her," Izzy says. Axl just stares at him, giving him a very unconvinced look. Izzy pretends to not see him, staring at the bottom of his glass.

"I don't believe you. You love her, and she's obviously in love with you, too, so just fucking tell her." Izzy continues to stare at the bottom of his glass, but he questions if you really could feel the same about him.

"What are you two talking about?" You ask as you take your spot next to Izzy, now nursing another drink.

"Nothing, Axl's just being a dick."

"What else is new?" You ask teasingly. Axl flips you the bird and you shrug in response.

"I was just telling Izzy that he should just man up and tell this chick that he likes her," Axl says, sending Izzy a discreet pointed look. You cover up the hurt you felt in your chest and put on a fake smile.

"You like a girl? Who?" You ask Izzy.

"It's nothing, Y/N. Drop it," Izzy says with irritation. You narrow your eyes at the sudden aggression, but don't push.

"Fine, damn." Axl shakes his head. How he got stuck with such an idiot friend he doesn't know. Steven groans and lifts his head from the table.

"Have a nice nap, popcorn?" Axl asks Steven with a smirk. Steven groans again and places his head back down on the wooden table.

Duff and Slash both walk out of the women's bathroom, a woman following closely behind. She looks disheveled, her hair is messy and her dress strap is hanging off her shoulder but she has a satisfied smirk on her face.

"I'm beat, I'm going home," Duff says while still trying to put his belt on properly. Slash grabs his leather jacket and follows Duff out of the bar, throwing a wave and smile over to you before he leaves.

"So that's where they've been," you say. The images of Slash and Duff going at the same girl was enough to make you shiver in disgust.

"Lucky bastards," Axl says with jealousy. "I'm done sitting around, catch you later." Axl pushes through you and Izzy and makes his way to the girl he's been eyeing all night.

"I'm tired, too," you say and finish off your drink. "You want to walk me home?"

Izzy nods and you both stand. Izzy follows you out the door without a word. After a few minutes of walking in silence, you finally look over at him.

"Are you ok?" Izzy glances at you for a split second.

"I'm fine." You aren't convinced. You knew Izzy for practically all his life, you know when something is on his mind.

"You know you can't lie to me, what's wrong?" Izzy sighs and shakes his head.

"Nothing, I promise. I'm just thinking," he says without sparing a glance at you.

"About what? That girl you like?" It hurt to just spit out the words.

Izzy wants to just tell you 'yes,' he is thinking about the girl but that it's you, and how he doesn't like her he loves her. But he has no clue how you'd react, so he just stays quiet.

"Well, whatever you want to say I'm here to listen," you say and send him a smile. Izzy grabs your hand and gives it a small squeeze.

"I know you are. I'm fine though, really." You sigh and nod your head. He doesn't let go of your hand until you reach the door to your house.

"You want to stay over tonight? It's pretty late and your house is kind of far," you ask. Izzy nods and you both walk into your small home.

Izzy makes himself comfortable in your living room while you make yourself a cup of tea. He takes a moment to look at the pictures of you and him on the walls.

Some were old, the picture frames barely concealing the rips and tears in the corners. Those were from back in Indiana, riding dirt bikes and getting high near the train tracks. But some were new, with the whole band out drinking or photos you took while they were on stage.

"Day dreaming?" You ask as you sit next to him on your old, worn out couch, now with a cup of tea.

"I was looking at all the pictures." Izzy points to one of the newer ones, It was of you and him after one of his first shows with Guns. You were hanging onto him and giving him a huge grin, one he matched. "I don't remember that one."

"Axl took that one, he gave it to me because he said he's never seen you so happy." You say, smiling at the memory. "It's my favorite of you."

Axl's earlier words replay in Izzy's head. Friends don't look at each other like that, do they? You most certainly don't look at Axl or Duff like that, he would know.

"Speaking of Axl," Izzy starts, clearing his throat awkwardly. "He mentioned something to me earlier..." Izzy stops short, nervous to mention it.

"Well, what did he say?" You ask, nodding so he continues.

"He said you're in love with me, is it true?" Izzy asks, but it sounds much more interrogatory than he meant.

You stay silent for a while, your mouth parting before snapping shut again. You look like a gaping fish of some sort.

"He blabbed?" Is all you could muster out. "I'm sorry, I know you probably don't feel the same and that's fine, that's why I never said anything and—"

"Hey, hey, relax, I'm asking because I do feel the same." Your jaw snaps shut, your face feels hot and your hands are sweaty.

"Seriously? I’m the girl you like?” You mumble.

"Yes, you are," Izzy replies, feeling relief that Axl was right flood through his veins. You and Izzy both sit and silence for a moment longer.

"So are you going to kiss me or what?" You say teasingly, although it's accompanied by a nervous waver in your voice. Izzy doesn't acknowledge it, instead leaning in to smash his lips to yours.

The kiss is full of passion and built up emotions. You can't help but think about how long you've dreamed of this moment.

Izzy pulls away moments later, his brown staring deeply into yours. His eyes silently asking if this was ok. You answer with a small smile and lean in to peck his cheek softly. Izzy smiles back, bringing up his hand to gently caress your face.

"I love you," you say quietly.

"I love you, too." You pull him in for another kiss, and Izzy begins to think about how he loves the thought of waking up next to you and how every other sappy domestic thing he used to roll he eyes at seem much nicer.

More time passes and you and Izzy have both laid down on the couch, cuddling into earth other lovingly. Your cup of tea is abandoned as you fall asleep to the feeling of Izzy's chest rising and falling under your head and his soft caresses.

#happy birthday izzy!#also! send in requests!#guns n’ roses #guns n’ roses x reader #guns n’ roses imagine #classic rock imagine #izzy stradlin x reader #izzy stradlin fic #Izzy Stradlin #Izzy Stradlin fluff

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rogueyami · 4 years

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Haikyuu!! Fic Recs

I love reading fanfics, and I have so many bookmarked that I want to share. Hope you all enjoy and give these writers all the love. All of these are completed works, and they are a mixture of one shots and multi chaps.

Kagehina

where the night goes by bigspoonnoya (M)

Summary:

When their bond loses the immediate context of volleyball, they're left to consider why it's still so vital and important.

Meeting again, by chance, six years later.

Somewhere to Belong by Esselle (E)

Summary:

Once a year, all the villages that follow the way of the sun offer up one of their own to be taken to the sun god's divine temple. Kageyama Tobio, an orphan and loner, never wanted to be chosen—and until the sun god appeared, no one ever wanted to choose him, either. All Tobio wants is to find a place he fits in. What he actually gets is another story entirely.

by this time next year by reeology (T)

Summary:

"I got offers from two universities," Kageyama announces, pointing at his chest with his thumb. "I'm going to play volleyball at Keio this spring."

"You still have to pass an exam, even if it's an easy one," Takeda-sensei hurries to add, although he is beaming and bursting with pride at his fluffy little crow chick taking off to play volleyball at a university level.

"I'll pass," Kageyama says with the same kind of confidence he uses when he tells Hinata he'll get the toss to him. He looks straight at Hinata, and Hinata jerks and turns red, wondering if maybe Kageyama knew he was daydreaming about something as stupid as the way Kageyama talks to him during a game. But then Kageyama just points at him and says, "You'd better get in, too."

Hinata, stupid, naive, idiot that he is, grins wide and nods and says, "Yeah!"

He doesn't know what he's in for.

Not Alone by seconddaysea (E)

Summary:

"I'll visit you," Hinata says. "So you're not allowed to get lonely, you got it?" He turns so they're facing each other, hands warm against Tobio's back. "I'm already lonely," he replies quietly, and he presses his face against Hinata's heart, squeezing his eyes shut, because if this is a dream he doesn't want to wake up.

maps, from me to you by tothemoon (T)

Summary:

This is a (non-chronological) account of the memories they make out of millimeters.

Iwaoi

we can do better than that by spaceburgers (M)

Summary:

Oikawa and Iwaizumi go on a road trip during the summer after their high school graduation. It doesn't go as expected, but maybe that's not such a bad thing after all.

we shine like diamonds by whiitemists (T)

Summary:

Oikawa is nine when he first hears the word. The boys on the playground whisper it like it's dirty, like the way they daringly mutter the word fuck and then look over their shoulders to check their parents hadn't heard.

"You know Abe-kun from class?" they snicker, hands cupped around their mouths like they're passing along a filthy secret. "I hear his older brother is... gay."

here comes your man by newamsterdam (T)

Summary:

Iwaizumi’s left his cell phone on the bench, and while Suga keeps his gaze away from Iwaizumi the phone lights up with a new message.

Iwa-chan, it reads, Have a good day today! Good luck! <3 <3 <3

Suga chokes. It’s hard to imagine anyone calling the scowling and fierce Doctor Iwaizumi “Iwa-chan.” But marriage probably comes with all sorts of liberties.

Mrs. Iwaizumi must be quite the doting wife, Suga thinks. Delivering hand-made bentos and sending along loving messages.

No one really knows much about the new surgical resident, Doctor Iwaizumi, other than the fact that he's married. Suga's determined to find out more, and make a friend of him in the process.

just hear me out by loveclouds (T)

Summary:

To stimulate Japan's low birthrates and take most of the guesswork out of dating, a beeper system was biologically developed in people's wrists, an audible confirmation to show romantic compatibility.

Iwaizumi's beeper has been going off for Oikawa since they've been kids. Oikawa's has only ever been silent.

Call Security! by DeathBelle (T)

Summary:

Oikawa Tooru is attractive, charming, and irresistible.

He thinks so, anyway, until he meets the mall's new security guard.

In which Oikawa has a crush, Iwaizumi has no interest, and a chain of shoplifting incidents brings them together.

Bokuaka

(Don't) Touch Me by DeathBelle (E)

Summary:

Akaashi has always had an aversion to human contact, but earlier in his life it had been bearable. It isn't until his last year of high school that it becomes intolerable. By the time he enters college, any skin contact has the potential to send him spiraling into a breathtaking panic attack.

He reconnects with Bokuto in college, and he seems to be the only person with the ability to calm Akaashi down. He finds himself relying on his old captain more and more, especially when Bokuto deems himself Akaashi's own personal guardian. Despite their connection, he can't touch Bokuto, either; no matter how badly he'd like to.

Upstairs by yoogiboobi (E)

Summary:

Bokuto first sees his neighbour at the supermarket, three days after he's moved into his new place.

[...]

For about a second, a heartbeat, he's met with a pair of dark, piercing eyes, with what is probably eyeliner, looking back at him. It really is just a split second before his hand knocks down three cereal boxes that hit him square in the head, effectively making him break eye contact and drop his groceries to the floor.

In which some of the first things Bokuto learns about his upstairs neighbour are the colour of his eyes and the sound of his moans.

bang! now we're even by Authoress (E)

Summary:

Akaashi only has two rules when it comes to his profession. One, complete the job as swiftly and cleanly as possible. Two, never trust anyone who smells like blood.

Rule three is to shoot Owl Eyes in the face should he ever come across him, but Akaashi never tells anyone about that one.

Crisis Converted by valiantarmor (E)

Summary:

Akaashi Keiji is just a normal cop with a penchant for getting himself into trouble, when quite suddenly he finds himself with a big promotion and a brand new partner.

But his habit of finding trouble hasn't gone away -- if anything, it's only gotten worse.

cracks in the pavement will lead you home by deusreks (M)

Summary:

Bokuto often thinks about Akaashi, especially when he’s running. It’s like his legs know where they’re supposed to take him. He grows into a habit of running a lot, just to keep that feeling going. Cracks and holes in the pavement aren’t fun to jump over if the final reward isn’t seeing Akaashi’s face.

An alternate universe with a little bit of magic and a lot of growing up.

Ushiten

died in my dreams by MTrash (Makaria) (T)

Summary:

If anyone asked Ushijima how it came to this, he wouldn’t be able to formulate a proper answer.

Ushijima likes his quiet, his order, and his solitude. That is, until a loud, talkative and a little chaotic cyber tech convinces him that that's just plain boring.

while i nodded, nearly napping (suddenly there came a tapping) by pseudoanalytics (T)

Summary:

Of course if there was one thing that could be counted on, it was Ushijima’s blunt, total honesty. “Do you think Tendou is attracted to me?”

Reon froze. “T-Tendou?”

“Yes.”

Tendou was notoriously hard to read, but Reon kind of figured that he wasn’t the type to be anything less than painfully overt with romantic affections.

“I... I don’t think you have anything to worry about. I think if Tendou was attracted to you, he would let you know,” Reon said. “I'd guess he just considers you his best friend.” He hoped his answer would satisfy whatever frenzy the guy had worked himself into so Reon could finally take advantage of his last precious hours of sleep.

But instead, Ushijima visibly deflated in front of him. “Yes. That’s what I thought too,” he said miserably.

Oh, Reon realized. Oh no...

Executive Excursion by DeathBelle (E)

Summary:

Tendou is fun, quirky, and interesting.

Ushijima is none of the above.

It's no surprise that Ushijima is drawn to Tendou's magnetic personality. What's surprising is that Tendou seems to like Ushijima, too.

With a little support from his coworkers, Ushijima decides to take a chance and ask Tendou on a date. The results are better than expected.

fascinating facts about geckos by miracleboysatori (T)

Summary:

Ushijima Wakatoshi.

That’s the coach’s name. And he’s the new biology teacher on campus, so not only is he incredibly beautiful, he's also smart as hell.

Tendou can tell he’s completely doomed.

Affection, and other Quantifiable Actions by badbavarois (T)

Summary:

(He's a monster) Ushijima Wakatoshi isn't a monster.

Misc/ Other ships

but not for spring to well up by tookumade (T) OsaSuna

Summary:

After ending a relationship with a fiancé, Suna returns home and tries to heal from heartbreak. Here, he finds friends in the form of the Miya brothers, and learns patience, forgiveness, and what happiness means to him.

the more things change by deadseasalt (E) OiKage

Summary:

��So let me get this straight. You went to the Meiji-Chuo game and saw your old crush and after watching Meiji bring Chuo to a crushing defeat, you realized you were still crushing on him big time?”

Kageyama wishes he could spit in Tsukishima’s drink. “It’s not a crush.”

Tsukishima laughs. “You poor dumb fuck.”

Third Impression by DeathBelle (E) Kuroo x Semi

Summary:

If Semi has a type, Kuroo isn't it.

After their first meeting, Semi concludes that Kuroo is smug, presumptuous, and a little too flirtatious for his own good. Their second encounter doesn't change his mind, and Semi does his best to avoid a third.

Kuroo has other ideas, and Semi finds himself tricked into an impromptu tutoring session with Kuroo himself.

It doesn't go as badly as Semi expects.

Mannequin Men by surveycorpsjean (E) BokuAkaKuroTsukki

Summary:

The modeling world is full of hungry wolves, constantly clambering over the other, snarling and desperate. They fight, and they kill, trampling over anything in their path.

In this case, Akaashi fell in love with the wolves.

Efflorescence by h_lovely (E) MatsuHana

Summary:

"Are we flirting?" "Do you want to be?"

[Efflorescence (n.) a state of blooming, flowering, and development.]

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autumnslance · 3 years

Link

"In the five years following your sudden disappearance from the Carteneau Flats, your ever-faithful chocobo spent each waking moment galloping across the realm in search of [his] lost master. [His] myriad adventures are nothing less than fantastical and heartbreaking...but that is a story for another day." - Legacy Chocobo mount description.

((Animal love, loyalty, and those bonds woven by fate. So there’s some animal angst and injury, but also a happy ending. Crossposted below for those who prefer Tumblr:))

“I need you to stay here,” her person said, rubbing her beak and scratching the white feathers of her neck.

She kweh’d softly, not liking the request but because he had asked it, she would obey and listen for the whistle binding them together, when he needed her to come to his aid.

The not-a-moon hung low and burning in the sky. The land’s aether tasted funny, the smells of nature were all wrong. Any creature with sense hid as fiends roamed.

People had little sense, she’d found. Especially her person; in his armor, his axe pulled from his back, he would throw himself into the fray with a shout to fight anything that harmed others. Normally, she would be right there with him, beak and talon and wings alongside his weapon, helping him.

“That’s my Snowlight, my good girl,” he crooned, leaving a kiss on the end of her beak before turning to join his comrades.

She had been injured in their last fight, trying to keep him safe, and so she couldn’t join him in this one but he still said she was good and that was what mattered.

She kweh’d encouragement after him, satisfied he turned back to wave one more time, before joining all the other people leaving to fight.

—-

The not-a-moon broke apart and released Horror. There were flames and pain and ear-splitting roars.

The stables were on fire.

Snowlight was too injured to fight, but not too injured to herd the frightened silly-headed carriage chocobos out of the flames. Not too injured to find the coughing stablemaster, knock a fallen beam aside, and herd him out, too. She even found one of the barn kittens, confused and afraid, carefully picking it up in her beak like a chick.

Snowlight was a good girl. Her person helped others, and so would she.

The Horror was over the field where she knew her person was. It was malms away and he hadn’t called but her heart fluttered wildly and she ignored the grooms and handlers to dash through the burning woods.

He needed her, she couldn’t let him—

The world went white, then red, then white again, and finally black.

—-

The world’s aether tasted thin and strange, like weak juice left out too long.

She pulled herself out of the little hollow of debris and ash, casting a cure on instinct at the twinges in her wings and legs and neck, the injury on her side--the one that had kept her in the stable to begin with--throbbing again. The cure helped.

Snowlight blinked, trying to get a sense of where her person was, the location of the whistle attuning them to one another.

She couldn’t find it.

She shook out her feathers and limped on to where she thought maybe she had last felt it, in the direction he had left with his friends and all the other people, toward the setting sun--though it was currently obscured by angry clouds and more ashes.

Familiar places looked strange, though Snowlight couldn’t really put a talon on why or how. The forest was oddly silent, slow to wake from the disaster. The Elementals seemed especially distant.

She foraged for berries and greens, then slept. She was cautious of water she found but had to drink; the rain that fell later helped a great deal, though it was also heavy with dust and grief. She foraged more, and then slept more under a rocky outcropping.

The pass to the north felt wrong, cold winds blowing from the hills. So she kept heading west, through the less familiar hills, to get to the gloomy place.

Snowlight could always find the gloomy place, especially when the wind blew right. It felt like a scab on the world, the magic—and Something Else—waiting under the lake’s surface. It was an easy place to find, if weird.

It took a couple days for Snowlight to reach the gloomy place; slower than usual, but she was still recovering from her injuries and the paths through the woods were not easy to navigate. There weren’t as many fiends roaming around, at least, and the ones that were could be easily avoided.

The other creatures were waking and coming out of hiding again, too. She was a little less lonely, with the small birds singing.

The gloomy place was more of a mess than usual, a crystal spire piercing the air and giving off waves of suppressed magic. The corpse in the center of the lake continued to sleep but she gave the shore wide berth, both for its slumbering guardian and for the poison filming the water.

Snowlight continued west and a bit south, still not sensing her person, nor had he called for her on the whistle. She couldn’t teleport without the pull of the whistle. Her feet hurt but she kept picking her way through the ruins of machina parts.

She went to the camp for food, but it was empty, the aetheryte exploded in size and twisted in shape, the tents and supplies torn and burned. There were no people anymore.

Snowlight kweh’d sadly, rummaging through the wreckage for anything edible. She was rewarded with burnt gysahl greens, tasting faintly of staticky aether, but it was enough to raise her flagging spirits. After considering the twisty former aetheryte for a long moment, she decided one of the half-fallen tents at the edge of the old camp would be all right for sleeping in. There was still enough man-smell to keep wild creatures away.

—-

“Well ain’t you a beauty,” the big man with the rough voice said. “Fetch a good price at market.”

“To hell with the market,” the skinny man whined. “I’m starved and it’ll feed the whole bloody camp.”

“C’mere—” the scarred lady reached for Snowlight.

She beat her wings and shrieked. The trio swore and threw up their hands to protect their faces.

Snowlight was almost to the terrible place, full of twisted aether and death. The last place she knew her person had been. This trio had come upon her as the noon sun struggled to break through the thick clouds. They smelled of blood and offal and desperation, and she did not trust them.

The whiny man ducked close, so Snowlight leapt and kicked him, throwing him into the lady with a shout.

The big man managed to snag her neck, his arms squeezing. “C’mere you overgrown chicken I’ll—”

Snowlight shoved back and up; she couldn’t fly far with the aether currents so warped, but it was enough to startle him, and now he clung to not fall even the few fulms she had lifted him. She bucked until he slipped off and then she flew away as fast and as far as she could.

There was a whistling noise and a sharp pain in her flank but she swerved and pushed faster, hearing the hissing whistle of more arrows. She fought against the weird currents and her own weary wings, risking crossing a high bank that abruptly dropped into a narrow ravine, almost like a frozen wave of earth instead of water.

On the other side she landed heavily and ran, feeling warm liquid trickle down her leg, the arrow still lodged but loose enough to shift and pinch with every motion. Even so, she pressed on.

She was close.

Spots crossed her vision. She no longer heard the mean people; only the wind. Panting, she stopped finally, swaying on her trembling legs.

Where was he?

She spent a bit of strength to cast a cure, the arrow forced out as the flesh healed. She had to rest, but the mean people might still chase her. And she had to be close to where he was. Surely it was simply the damage caused by the Horror that was obscuring the connection, his call.

He had to have tried to call her. He couldn’t go this long on his own.

There were more people dotting the ruined plain, but they were easy to avoid now that she knew she had to be sneaky. She picked her way through smoldering magitek and torn earth and twisted structures that felt Wrong and smelled Strange. There were bodies, but none of them the one she looked for, thankfully.

A whiff of his scent caught in her beak and she kweh’d happily, seeking more. Still he did not respond, it was merely the scent of his previous presence. Perhaps he was among the people.

She drew as close as she dared to the tents. To the warm, gentle pulse of the Seedseer.

His scent was not among the camp.

Snowlight pondered this as she tried to retrace her steps to where she had caught that whiff. The field was scorched, the ground rippled from the blasts of competing magic. The aftertaste of the old mage lingered on her tongue, though it had a more bitter endnote than she recalled. Snowlight kweh’d again, digging for the scents of her person and his companions, catching hints and traces, but not finding them. Not finding him.

A voice called. She looked up and saw a yellow-clad man pointing in her direction. She turned and jogged away before the Adders could come close. While they would likely be more friendly than the bandits earlier, she had not the time for them.

She still had to find her person.

—-

Snowlight found hiding spots, keeping away from the Adders and adventurers still lingering. The taste of healing magic hung over the camp, competing with the blood and pain.

The camp was the best place to find food, though; this terrible place had none naturally anymore, blasted away or warped beyond recognition.

Snowlight was a good sneak; her person had often said so, when she played the hide and seek game with him. She would hide something he used and he had to find it. It was always great fun. She had also used it to swipe food before, risking a scolding but it was her person’s own fault for trying to deny her treats when she needed them.

Her sneakiness came in handy as she maneuvered herself into the Adders’ flock and helped herself to some of the feed provided. The destriers were too tired themselves to snap or fuss and besides, she could easily fight any of them into submission and they knew it; she was an adventuring bird, after all.

She was careful to keep the others between her and the soldiers, to not let them notice or catch her. It was tricky, given her bright white plumage compared to most army chocobos. But Snowlight was a good sneak, and managed to avoid getting caught. She had things to do, after all, and had to be ready if her person called.

She still couldn’t sense him. She still had not heard his whistle.

Snowlight slipped out of the flock, leaping the makeshift fencing while the handlers were busy. Then she returned to searching the broken plain.

The Adders were getting ready to break camp; there were few bodies left amid the wreckage of the battlefield, few new wounded found. They had worked tirelessly for over a sennight, the Seedseer and the conjurers sparks of the natural world amidst the carnage.

Snowlight returned again to the place where she had scented her person and his friends. She circled around it once more, a periphery she had scratched into the ashes as she tried to figure out where they had gone. How they had gone.

“They aren’t here,” a gentle voice said.

Snowlight warked and jumped, whirling to face the weary Seedseer as she leaned on her staff. Even exhausted, power thrummed through the padjal’s frame, a barely held summer storm. She smiled at Snowlight.

“I think I recognize you,” the Seedseer said. “Yes...I can’t quite recall…” She frowned. “I don’t remember their faces. Their names. But I know you were with them, once.”

Snowlight listened, keeping still. It was only polite in the padjal’s presence. As the Seedseer paused, though, Snowlight asked a tentative “Kweh?”

The Seedseer shook her head. “I don’t know where they have gone. One moment, they were there. I know I must have seen them. But all I remember are their silhouettes in the light. And then…” she trailed off, a perplexed look on her face. “I only know they’re gone. I’m sorry.”

Snowlight chirred in frustration, ruffling her wings. She didn’t understand, and usually the padjali were easier to comprehend than other people. What the Seedseer said made no sense.

“I know, it’s difficult,” the Seedseer said, voice cracking in grief and weariness as she reached out a hand. “But come; we can take care of you, and—’’

Snowlight was a good girl. Usually. The Seedseer was to be respected. Usually.

Snowlight shrieked and reared, flapping her wings as she backpedaled from the startled padjal.

“Wait—” the Seedseer called as Snowlight whirled and dashed, avoiding the soldiers who followed the padjal, who tried to catch Snowlight on their mistress’ command.

A soldier stood in her way. Snowlight warked a single warning before barrelling over and past him, ignoring the shouts.

They were hard to hear through the rushing, pounding feeling in her head, the ache in her heart that already felt like it had run for malms.

She ran up a tilted piece of machinery, a giant wall that had fallen from the not-a-moon and flapping her wings took off, flying toward the boggy saltmarsh to the north.

Her person wasn’t there, but neither were the soldiers, or the Seedseer and her painful words.

Snowlight would rest. She would eat. She would recover. Then she would keep looking for wherever her person had gotten to.

She had to. Snowlight was a good girl.

—-

Snowlight was so tired.

Her plumage was not as bright as it had once been; she had not had a proper grooming in a long time, and injuries and life in the wild had left her more ragged than she had ever been. Her person had often called her the prettiest chocobo in Eorzea, though she looked nothing like that now.

He still had not called. She still could not sense him. She still searched, though; the Seedseer was wrong, and he was just lost. He had lost the whistle in that Horror. He was waiting for Snowlight to find him.

Sometimes, curled up under a tree or in an abandoned building or an old cave, she would sleep and dream of the days they had rode together. Of their adventures, their games, his laughter, his scritches. His warmth as he leaned back against her side while the campfire crackled, his voice as he talked about so many things. She almost never understood, but he had such a nice voice. She missed hearing it.

The dreams were happy, but waking from them was sad. Snowlight stood, ruffled her feathers, and kept looking.

She had sought him out in the ruined reaches of the western marsh and the terrible place, through the gloomy place and its unsettling waiting feeling. Through the Wood, the Elementals barely whispering anymore, rarely waking from their slumber. She crossed the scrublands and burning sands, even risking the golden plains and the lizardmen who rode across them. She picked her way among the rocky mountains, and into the frozen land in the north, the wind and ice aether unrelenting even in the height of summer.

Snowlight was not yet certain how she could cross the strait to the island; it was just about the only place in the realm she had not looked over the last five summers and winters. The Seedseer’s words echoed in her memory again but Snowlight shook them away.

Her person was somewhere. She just had to find him.

She was back in the Wood. She would have to head west past the gloomy place and the salt marsh. If she didn’t want to be caught, anyway; she would have to find a way across the sea that did not involve people.

Sometimes she found people in trouble; beset by fiends or bandits, lost children crying alone, hurt people needing a cure. Snowlight had once been a good girl, and her person had helped people. So she scared off the fiends, fought the bandits, cast a cure on hurts, and guided the lost to safety. She sometimes, warily, took food and rest from those she helped. But then they would try to keep her—or worse, turn out to be mean themselves, and so she left as quickly as possible. Some wanted her for her plumage, some for riding or working, some for food. She wanted nothing to do with them as they were not her person.

So simply best to avoid people now.

Snowlight was tired, and so missed the snare that entangled her feet, triggering a second that caught her wings.

She flailed and shrieked. There was a prickle on her neck and she felt very woozy. It was getting dark again, but that couldn’t be right as the sun had just come up.

“Finally got ‘er,” a man’s voice said from...above her? When had she fallen to the ground? She warked and tried to struggle as careful hands gripped her. “She’s a tough ol’ bird for sure, but once she’s broken in…”

The world went black, and Snowlight dreamed of running across an open windy plain, her person laughing and whooping on her back.

—-

“Gods take you, you miserable bitch!” the stablehand yelled, clutching his bitten hand.

Snowlight just chirred a warning low in her chest, her feathers ruffled up as she glowered at him, beak clacking another warning.

No one here called her a good girl. Snowlight did not feel like being good, when they kept her hobbled and more often than not in the stable. The most experienced hands would put a lead on her halter and let her run alongside them for too brief a time in too small a pen each day. Most of them were kind, and she usually felt bad after snapping at them with her beak, or scratching them with her talons.

But none of them would let her go to find her person, and her person had not come for her here, so she didn’t want to stay.

A quiet presence stepped up behind the stablehand. He turned to the slim young woman. “Nevermind this one; she mighta been some adventurer’s bird once, but she’s gone wild. Don’t like anybody, this ‘bo.”

The woman simply took the lead and approached the stall.

Snowlight turned her eyes to the woman, and her rumbling ceased. There was something oddly familiar here, but Snowlight wasn’t sure what. Tall for the kind of person she was, midnight hair, and…

Snowlight tossed her head and kweh’d, confused but excited. She had caught a scent, a scent she had only ever smelled on her person before! This woman had the same underlying tone; a warm spice that left Snowlight trembling. She barely noticed when the woman snapped the lead onto her halter.

“Good girl,” the woman said quietly, pitched in a way only Snowlight could hear—just like her person used to do, and though this woman’s voice was higher and gentler, there was something in the way the words were shaped, something in the timbre of her voice, that felt right and familiar.

It had been so long since someone had called Snowlight a good girl.

The stablehand was boggled as the woman opened the stall and led a quiet, nearly docile Snowlight out and to the exercise pen. Snowlight paid him no mind; she was trying to figure this out.

The woman led Snowlight to the pen and let her jog on the long lead. She didn’t get fussy or scared when Snowlight stretched and beat her wings. It would be easy to escape any other handler who allowed that.

But Snowlight knew the woman was an adventurer, and adventurers were strong and tricksy. And there was a quiet strength and unrealized power in this woman.

She felt like Snowlight’s person did.

The woman offered her some gysahl greens and scratched her neck just the way her person used to, finding exactly the Right Spot. Snowlight sighed.

She was so tired.

“Been awhile since you trusted someone,” the woman said. Her accent was definitely the same as Snowlight’s person, and the same tone if higher. Her scent was the same too; not just soaps and the smells people put on themselves, but deeper, in blood and bone. When Snowlight peered at the woman, here in the daylight, there were ways she moved, the way she smiled, the color of her eyes, that were the same as his.

The woman let Snowlight run a little longer, putting her through paces using the same foreign words her person used to, the ones meaning “slow down” or “speed up” or “stop” and “go.” She gave Snowlight more greens and pets and then led her back to the stable.

The other handlers were confused, whispering, uncertain. One came close and Snowlight snapped at him out of habit. “Shh,” the woman said. She didn’t scold or jerk the halter, just laid her hand on Snowlight’s neck. “We need to brush you down.”

Snowlight did feel itchy after exercise. Still, she didn’t want the others muddling things up, not when she was trying to figure out this woman and why she felt as right and familiar as Snowlight’s person had.

The woman took her time, giving Snowlight a thorough bath and brushing. She did not let the woman trim her talons though, or check in her beak; not yet. There were limits.

Snowlight’s stall was clean and there was fresh feed and cool water. The handler she had bitten earlier shook his head, hand now bandaged. “Dunno what you did, but thank you. Poor old girl was running wild for years, near as we can tell. One of many who lost their riders in the Calamity, is my guess. She’s had it rough and won’t let folks near—until you.”

The woman shrugged and smiled.

“Well thank you. You’re welcome to return and help anytime.” He was only partly joking.

The woman simply nodded, retrieving her bow and quiver from the hooks where she had left them, before she turned to go.

Snowlight lifted her head from the feed bin to kweh a goodbye to the woman. The woman turned and smiled, waving to Snowlight.

When Snowlight fell asleep that night, she dreamed of her person, as usual. But the woman was also there, her laugh joining his.

A couple days later, Snowlight was kicking a ball toy in her stall, bored until it was time for the handlers to come take her to exercises again. She stopped kicking the ball and perked up at hearing a certain step, catching a certain scent. She kweh’d toward the quiet presence entering the stable.

“Hello,” the woman said to Snowlight. “Did you want to train again?”

Snowlight kweh’d and ruffled her feathers happily. She liked this quiet woman who reminded her of her person. She thought perhaps they were from the same clutch. After all, Showlight could tell when two chocobos were related, and while people were different they had their own families too.

The woman hung up her weapons and picked up the lead rope. Snowlight allowed the woman to guide her out into the exercise pens and they played for well over a bell. Then the woman bathed and brushed Snowlight again, before bringing her back to the stall, freshly cleaned by the other handlers.

The woman stroked Snowlight’s beak. “Good girl,” she said.

Snowlight preened.

The stablemaster was nearby and shook his head. “No one’s been able to get near that bird for moons. You come along and she’s docile as anything.”

The woman shrugged. “I didn’t do anything special; just treated her nice.”

“All any of us tried,” the stable master sighed. He peered at Snowlight. “She ain’t changed her attitude to the rest of us, neither.”

“I should be back in a few days,” the woman said. “I can help again then.”

“We appreciate it,” he said. “Maybe she’ll calm down with repeat visits from someone she trusts.”

The woman nodded, and gave Snowlight one last scritch before heading out once more. She turned and waved again when Snowlight called to her. That was nice.

—-

It had been nearly a moon since the woman’s last visit.

Snowlight had gotten used to the woman coming by every few days, looking and smelling and sounding so much like her person had; it was like having a part of him back as they trained and played and cleaned up together.

But now, after those handful of visits, the woman had not returned, just like her person had not, and Snowlight was so tired.

She no longer snapped and scratched at the handlers, but now they could not coax her to eat more than the bare minimum, or play, or train.

They were good people, really; they just weren’t hers, and she wasn’t theirs. The people Snowlight wanted simply hadn’t come back.

Snowlight dozed in her stall, ignoring the sunny day and the other chocobos and handlers. Then a certain sound caught her attention, a familiar step. She blinked awake, catching a familiar scent, and kweh’d.

The woman rounded the corner and smiled as Snowlight bounced and trilled excitedly. The stable master followed, smiling too.

“Can’t say you don’t deserve it, though you sure this is the bird you want?”

The woman nodded, a giddiness to her usual calm presence that made Snowlight even more excited, too, though she did not know why. “I think she and I get along just fine,” the woman said to the stable master, turning finally to Snowlight. She scritched Snowlight’s neck. “I even have a name picked out. My brother and I used to come up with them as children, when dreaming of having our own chocobos.”

“Well much luck to you both,” he said, holding out his hand.

Snowlight trembled with excitement when she saw what he held; a whistle, just like the one her person used to have. The whistle that had tied them together, made her always able to find him--until she couldn’t.

The woman took the whistle, then looked back up at Snowlight. “Do you want to be my chocobo?” She asked, almost sounding nervous.

Snowlight thought about it. She had a person--once upon a time. He was gone now, but this woman was so much like him, possibly from the same clutch...So maybe it was all right. Maybe this person wouldn’t leave Snowlight behind--and if she did, Snowlight would do her best to find her.

After all, Snowlight was a good girl.

“Kweh-Kweh!” Snowlight agreed, bouncing excitedly. She would be an adventuring bird with a person of her own again!

The woman grinned, and after a few moments, the spell was complete and the aetheric bond formed.

Snowlight’s new person led her out of the stable, accepting the fine reins and saddle the stable master offered. “After all you’ve done for Gridania, not to mention taking on Ifrit himself, it’s the very least we can do,” he insisted. “And I’m just happy to see this girl get a fresh start and a good home.” He patted Snowlight’s shoulder. “What are you gonna name her? For our own records.”

Her person smiled. “For a white bird my brother and I could never decide between our favorites, so we combined them,” she answered. “I’m going to call her Snowlight.”

“A fine name,” the stable master said.

“Kweh-Kweh-Kweh!” Snowlight cheered, the last shadow of doubt faded; her new person even knew her name! This was the best day since…

Well, since her first person had chosen and named her.

Her person swung onto the saddle, thanking the stable master again. Then she leaned forward. “All right, girl; let’s go!”

Snowlight dashed out of Bentbranch, her person laughing on her back, to begin their adventures together.

#Final Fantasy XIV #Chocobo #Seventh Umbral Calamity #Kan-E-Senna #Warrior of Light #Lyn Writing #Snowlight #Zaine Striker #Aeryn Striker

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pencilofawesomeness · 3 years

Text

htryds microshot: book nerds

October 7, X778

It was starting to get colder, but secretly, Levy couldn’t wait for it to be colder. Then, nobody would complain if she curled up inside of her dorm-apartment and read all day long.

Not that there wasn’t stuff to do in the guild, of course, or with Jet and Droy. In fact, there had been a ton of new members this year, and some of them were even her age, which was nice, so Levy really should get to know them better.

The Strauss siblings were nice, even though the oldest one had quickly gotten…intense. Lisanna and Elfman were very kind though (and she was sure Mirajane was too, but she wasn’t the most approachable, so Levy wouldn’t know), and then there was the other group of… siblings? They seemed like siblings, with the way they stuck together, though Levy also knew that that wasn’t always indicative, but she, Jet, and Droy only knew other from the orphanage, but they were like brothers to her, and they stuck together like they were family, too.

Although the youngest boy and the older one did look similar. They both had black hair and red eyes, and red eyes weren’t something that was common. Not that the girl, Wendy, looked anything like them though. Wendy and Rogue she had the most contact with. They were delightful children—and quite young; it was amazing they could perform magic at their age—and very polite. She had been helping them with reading material ever since she found out they were still learning. And of course they were—they were only six or seven. The older one, Gajeel, was closer to her age, but he was more…stand-offish. And intimidating. She wasn’t sure if it was all of the piercings or the way he always glared and sulked in corners. What was it about the oldest of a group of three being the scariest? (Well, there was nothing scary about Jet, so that observation was limited to the two new groups of Fairy Tail.)

Enough about that, though. Levy had properly introduced herself, and that was what mattered. Not that that was recently, or anything. Meeting new people was still the difficult part of being in the guild, not that she regretted joining for one moment.

Levy knew the way to the bookstore by heart. She was positive she could navigate the building itself blind by now, though that wasn’t a large feat; it was pretty small. Although, she had still yet to read the store’s entire selection, so it was still plenty large enough—for the time being.

What was she in the mood to read this time? Hm, maybe fiction. Levy enacted her normal strategy of browsing until she had a suitable stack, wandering between the aisles and sections and stopping whenever she saw something interesting.

Or she stopped when she ran into somebody. Literally. Which wasn’t supposed to happen because there was never anybody in this section, but it happened this time and—

Levy blinked, wondering if she was imagining things. “Gajeel?”

The boy would have jumped out of his skin if he could. “What? Nothing, I wasn’t doing nothin’—!” It was his turn to blink. “Oh. You’re from the guild.”

“Yeah.”

They stared in a moment of silence. Levy wasn’t sure what else to say in a situation like this, especially since he was blocking the bookshelf she was wanting to look at.

Wait a second—there was a book in his hand. He was trying to hide it behind him, but she could recognize that cover anywhere. “Do you like the Detective Danger series too?” Levy blurted.

It was so hard to find other people to talk about it with, because it wasn’t exactly a popular series. It was simple, corny, and a little predicable—but it was charming and heartfelt, and it was enjoyable to read nonetheless, especially for relaxation. Not that Levy had a lot of people to talk about books period with, but the Detective Danger series was not something people followed beyond a stray book or two, so Levy never had anyone to discuss it with.

Gajeel’s face started to turn red. “Wh-what? No,” he denied quickly. Then he seemed to realize that he was holding the fourth book in the series. “I-I mean, it’s okay. Easy read in between training. And stuff.”

Levy resisted the urge to giggle to herself, but it was a hard thing to suppress. Ah, to see the denial up close. There was a time when Levy too would deny her enjoyment of the series (because honestly, it was designed for kids, and even though she was a kid, technically, she had long since moved past that reading level) but the series started to really get interesting around book nine, so she might as well see it through to the end.

“Okaaaay. How’d you like the ending of the ski-lodge case, then?” she asked, feeling devious. If there was anything to have a strong opinion about, it was—

“Are you kidding? It was awesome! The way he choked a guy with a hat, stopped a bullet, and caught that chick, all while skiing down the Deadly Hill? I— I mean… i-it was okay I guess.”

Her face split into a grin. “Busted,” she giggled, and Gajeel deflated like he had been caught doing something embarrassing.

Levy was just thrilled that she would have someone to discuss that twist in book nine with. “Have you read the Underwater Case yet?” she asked.

He looked down at the book in his hand awkwardly. “Ah, no… I haven’t read any since I was in Denish, and even then, there wasn’t really time.”

“I’m sure you’ll get there soon. I remember I read that one—” She pointed to the Volcano Case in his hands “—really fast. Oh, and when you get to the fifth book, I even got the special edition with the extra scene.”

“They make those?”

“Only a few! I got really lucky with that one. Would you…want to borrow it?”

For a second, Gajeel looked overwhelmed. Oh no, she had gone too fast again, hadn’t she? It had just been so long since she could talk about books with people, and even then, the librarian might not count…

“Yeah, that’d be cool. Er, thanks.”

But maybe she can add one more person to her list.

----

You can’t convince me that Mr. Long-coat-tie-and-fedora didn’t internalize cheesy detective fiction at least once in his life. (I headcanon that he did read some stuff post coming to the future to, ya know, learn that modern language stuff, so kid’s fiction is simple enough for that.) He might have been too stubborn to continue it in Phantom Lord, but Gajeel has time (and a fellow reader) now. Meanwhile Levy went through the classic introvert “I don’t know how to talk to people unless it’s about <special interest> and then I can talk a lot.”

Ah, the simple friendship of twelve and thirteen year-olds.

#fairy tail #htryds #htryds microshot #levy #gajeel #cheesy detective fiction #bonding over fandoms #classic friend technique #papalogia au

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elentiyawhitethorn · 3 years

Note

Modern au where feyre and Rhys are roommates and she accidentally kisses him

I Do Bad Things with You

Smut//2486 words

“Gods, do you ever shut up?” Feyre snapped.

Not that she was actually angry. She pissed at herself if anything, for being so fucking wet for her piece-of-shit roommate, even when he was being annoying.

Rhys just smirked. “I was only saying-”

“That maybe next time I should come home earlier so I don’t interrupt your beauty sleep with my loud stomping,” cut in Feyre.

When Rhys had seen her miniskirt and red lipstick, he knew exactly where she was headed. And he had preceded to comment on how loud she had been last time she’d returned from hooking up with some guy - Isaac maybe? - when she had apparently very noisily awoken him in the early hours of the morning.

Rhys winced. “I was only suggesting you try to be a bit more mindful of your surroundings-”

Feyre interrupted once more. “Mindful of my surroundings? Like all the times you’ve brought home some girl and made her scream in the room literally right across from mine? Do you know how hard it is to get to sleep with earbuds in at the loudest volume so you don’t have to hear your annoying roommate fucking some random chick?”

Rhys didn’t even have to decency to look embarrassed. He just smirked that smug smirk of his and said, “They certainly seem to enjoy it, don’t they?”

“Good lord,” Feyre muttered. Though while she may fake irritation, something tight coiled in her gut. Thinking back on the noises those women made, they did seem to enjoy it. And Feyre couldn’t stop herself from wondering what kind of noises Rhys could draw out of her.

Rhys and Feyre had moved in together totally by accident. Feyre’s best friend Mor had set up this whole situation just to bother her, probably, being Rhys’ cousin. She had thought they could become friends at first, and when he had turned out to be a smirky, egotistical jerk, avoiding him had seemed the better option. But Rhys was always there; helping Feyre with random shit, flirting, bothering her when she told him to piss off, flirting some more...

And now he somehow had the nerve to point out his skills in the bedroom right after criticizing Feyre’s ability to walk without sounding like Bigfoot.

“How about this?” Feyre started. “I’ll remember to tiptoe when I come home. You stop bringing ladies who don’t know how to be quiet into our apartment. And we end this conversation becasue I am really not in the mood right now.”

Rhys sighed dramatically. “Fine. But only if you also promise to stop being so rude. I’ve only ever been nice to you, Feyre.”

If anyone else had said something like that, Feyre would have felt like shit. She never meant to hurt anyone’s feelings (unless they really deserved it). But from the mischievous twinkle in Rhys’ eyes, she knew he was just trying to provoke her. Bastard.

“Go fuck yourself,” Feyre said flatly, and took a step toward the door. Past Rhys.

And, of course, she tripped over the edge of the rug. Because nothing in this fucking apartment could be easy. Not with him.

Feyre slammed into Rhys with a shriek, and they both hit the ground. Rhys had cushioned Feyre’s fall, so she wasn’t hurt or anything. Not that that’s what she thinking about right now. Not when she fell so hard her face slammed into him. Her lips.

Feyre was kissing Rhysand. And even though she’d imagined this far too many times before, she could not enjoy it. One, because their faces being violently slammed together wasn’t exactly pleasurable. And two, because she was freaked out.

She jolted up into a sitting position. On Rhys. Oh lord, was Feyre really straddling Rhysand Night in the middle of the kitchen floor?

When they’d fallen, limbs had gone flying. It wasn’t just their lips that had accidentally touched. Rhys’ hands were under the bottom of Feyre’s skirt. On her bare ass. And she was literally sitting on his dick.

“Um, sorry,” Feyre squeaked. Her face was definitely bright red. And her ears. And her neck. Any yet, for some incomprehensible reason, she wasn’t scrambling off of him. She was just sitting on him, with her hands on his chest, paralyzed.

Rhys also seemed to be paralyzed, because his hands were not moving from her ass cheeks. For the first time since Feyre had met him, he actually looked flustered. He was also blushing, and there was a shocked expression on his features.

“You’re fine,” he croaked in reply.

Feyre brain finally started functioning. “Oh gods, I should-”

She stopped speaking and pulled her hands away from Rhys’ chest. He yanked his hands out of her skirt. Just when Feyre was about to slide off of him, however, she felt something. Underneath her.

Rhys was getting hard.

From the panicked look on his face, Feyre knew he realized what she had felt. “Shit, I didn’t mean-”

“You’re fine,” Feyre said, repeating his earlier words. Her voice was strangely calm, indifferent even to her own ears. “Do you want to have sex with me?”

The words popped out of her mouth before she could stop them, but Feyre felt no regret. Only lust coursed through her mind right now.

Rhys blinked. “What?”

“Well I have really wanted you to fuck me for a while, and this whole situation is turning me on, but since that could be nothing and I could end up doing something that makes you uncomfortable, I’m asking. Do you want to have sex with me?” The words were so matter-of-fact. This is it, Feyre realized. This is the breaking point. I’ve finally reached insanity.

That blood-heating smirk found its way back to Rhys’ face, and she knew exactly what his answer was. “How long exactly is a while, darling?”

Feyre placed her hands on Rhys’ chest once more. “Too fucking long.”

He put his hands on her hips, keeping Feyre steady as she started to grind against his erection, needing pressure on that one spot.

“You’re a piece of shit, Rhysand. You know that? You smirk at me and you walk around shirtless all the time like there isn’t a horny girl sharing your apartment and you bring home all those girls like you want me like hear. Like you want me to know what you can do to me. It drives me crazy.” Feyre punctuated this little speech with a relatively hard roll of her hips, making Rhys let out a small groan.

“Of course I was doing it for you,” he murmured. “I wanted you to know what I had to offer.”

“You’re such a dick,” Feyre replied, reaching for the buttons of her blouse, hurriedly undoing them.

Once Feyre slung her shirt into the ground, Rhys flipped them. It was so fast, Feyre had no chance to protest (not that she would have), and in a split second, Rhys had her pinned to the floor.

“Surely I’m not the only one here in the business of teasing the other?” Rhys breathed in her ear, his hands tracing patterns on her thighs. “You strut around in those little skirts even when you’re not going out. You think I’ve never had to resist the urge to slam you against the wall?”

Feyre sighed as Rhys started trailing his lips along her neck. “Hmm, maybe we should, oh, um, we’re still on the floor, Rhys.” She didn’t know if what she said was even comprehensible to him, it was so muddled.

Rhys frowned against her neck. “Where’s your sense of adventure, Archeron?”

Feyre frowned as well. “My definition of adventure happens to be different than yours, that’s all. I typically don’t enjoy having sex on a rug that neither of us have vacuumed for a really long time.”

Rhys let out an exaggerated sigh and stood, bringing Feyre with him. She wrapped her legs tightly around his torso, marveling in how easy that had been for him. Of course, she’d noticed how ripped he was. How many hours he spent at the gym. She always noticed.

Feyre slung her arms around his neck. Rhys pulled Feyre’s face back to him as he started walking toward the hall. His lips crushed into hers, and she started grinding against him once more as his tongue parted her lips. The man certainly knew how to multitask.

They reached a room - Feyre’s - and Rhys carefully set her down on the bed. He flipped the lamp on and surveyed the scene in front of him: Feyre in a miniskirt and a barely-there bra, sprawled across the sheets, with her hair fanning across her shoulders.

“Take your clothes off.”

As much as Feyre wanted to do as he said, as much as she wanted to obey, she wasn’t just backing down. Rhys was a pain in the ass and he needed a serious ego check.

“Don’t you want the pleasure?” She asked twirling a strand of hair in her fingers and sliding her tongue across her lips, wetting them.

Rhys frowned. “Take off your clothes.” He only repeated what he’d just said, but there was no room for argument.

Feyre’s breath caught, and she just couldn’t stop herself anymore. She unclasped the bra, then slid out of her skirt. Her panties came next. She tried to move slowly, wanting to tease him, but it was so hard to be patient. The whole process, Rhys just watched, tracing her curves with his eyes.

“Good girl,” he muttered once she finished, and Feyre felt a fire light inside of her. She pressed her thighs together, a pathetic attempt at quenching the ache.

Rhys noted the movement with a twitch of his lips. Then he got on his knees.

Feyre barely suppressed a gasp as Rhys grabbed her by the hips and pulled her to the edge of the bed. He pressed a gentle, teasing kiss against her thigh, and Feyre spread her legs as far as she could.

She was on her elbows, watching him lick a trail up her thigh, still not going where she needed, and Rhys was holding her gaze the entire time.

A smirk was the only warning she got before Rhys dipped his head into her center. Just when Feyre was thinking Rhys had given in, all she got was a light kiss to her clit, the most pleasurable and frustrating sensation she had ever experienced. It was enough to drive her insane.

“Rhys,” Feyre urged, “do something.”

“Do what? This?” Rhys asked, licking a stripe up her center.

Feyre moaned. “Yes,” she breathed.

“And how about this?” Rhys flicked her clit with his forefinger, making Feyre cry out.

“More,” was all she could gasp, fingers clenching around the sheets.

Rhys’ wicked mouth started moving, tasting her, eating her alive. His tongue slid inside of her and Feyre groaned loudly, falling back against the sheets. Her eyes closed and she cried out in ecstasy as a finger entered her, then another.

“Rhys, Rhys, Rhys, gods,” Feyre cried out.

He spoke up, his breath caressing her folds. “Do you like that, darling?”

“Please,” she murmured. “Please make me come.”

“You behave so well,” Rhys commented, rubbing her clit slowly. “I wonder who taught you how to use such good manners.”

Feyre whimpered. A nearly incomprehensible string of pleases kept falling from her mouth, along with curses and cries of his name.

Rhys started pumping his fingers hard, sucking on her clit. He curved his fingers just so and let his tongue dart out and taste her once more, and everything shattered.

Feyre screamed, clenching her thighs together around Rhys’ head. He didn’t seem to mind; he just kept licking and sucking and thrusting his fingers inside of her, working Feyre through her orgasm.

Once the room stopped shaking and Feyre could see clearly again, she noticed Rhys pulling his clothing off until he was bare before her. She regained enough movement to reach for his cock as he crawled on the bed, wanting to taste him like he had tasted her, but he gently swatted her hand away.

“There’s plenty of time for that later, darling,” Rhys purred, settling over her pinning her arms to the bed.

But Feyre wasn’t giving up. She hooked a leg around his waist and used her momentum to roll them over, so that she was on top.

Rhys grinned, surprised but pleased to let this play out. Feyre kissed his neck, enjoying the contented sigh that came from his mouth. She started moving her mouth up, kissing and licking as she went.

She reached his jawline and made her way to his mouth. Unable to resist, she nipped his lower lip. Rhys growled at her and tightened his grip on her hips, but he didn’t reprimand her further.

Feyre moaned as she felt his cock press against her folds and she scrambled off of him, reaching in her nightstand drawer to grab a condom. Turning back to Rhys, she expertly rolled the condom on his length while he tweaked her nipple, making her usually-steady fingers fumble.

Feyre climbed back on top and lifted her hips over Rhys’ cock. He steadied her with his hands on her waist, murmuring a “good girl” as she lowered herself. They both sighed in pleasure as Feyre slowly sunk down all the way, fully sitting on him now.

Rhys let out a groan as Feyre started to rock her hips, adjusting to his size. She rested her hands on his chest and started moving more, really riding him now.

“You look so hot bouncing on my cock,” Rhys praised, slamming his hips up into hers.

Feyre moaned loudly, digging her nails into his skin. She tried to move faster, harder, seeking another orgasm, desperate for release.

Rhys flipped them, not stopping the movements of his hips. He thrusted harder, fully in control now. Feyre was moaning nonstop, propably leaving small scratches all over his back. Rhys seemed to relish in the sensation, thrusting harder.

She moved one hand between their bodies, circling her own clit. Feyre moaned and pressed harder, craving release.

One more thrust from Rhys had Feyre tumbling off that cliff, groaning as she went. Her whole body shook, and Rhys kept going.

“You’re doing so good, baby, so good. I’m almost there.” Feyre’s orgasm was drawn out even further at the sound of Rhys’ commending tone, loving the sound of him taking to her.

Feyre felt Rhys’ cock twitch as he found his own release, sighing against her shoulder. He withdrew from Feyre’s entrance and sat back. She was barely conscious as Rhys took care of the condom and walked back over to her.

Rhys leaned down resting his lips against her ear. “I hope you sleep well, darling,” he whispered with that smug tone of his.

And then Feyre drifted off to sleep, hardly registering the sound of Rhys padding out of her room.

———

Tag List:

@aelin-bitch-queen

@story-scribbler

#feysand #acotar #i do bad things with you #my writing

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clandestine-j · 3 years

Text

Gossip Girl Reboot, EP. 3

Review/Reaction

alright, we're here for ep 3 reaction and thoughts &

man, i must say, DRAMA.

love it. i'm going to try and make this short but i fail horribly at stuff like that soooo lets see how this will go. i think imma split it into three groups! adults, kids, other random shit.

adults

you know what? i was here for most of them. people talk about zoyas dad bad acting but he was fine in his little scene, i'm happy that he's forcing zoya to take time with obie or whatever. i know people hate her dad and zobie but it was a little nice scene.

i'm really loving julien's dad. i'm glad he can own up and apologize and i get where he was coming from. honestly 10/10 so far, i love the relationship he has with julien and how's he's learning to cope with her becoming an adult and seeing it happen.

fucking love max's dad and the whole family dynamic thing before it went to shit. obvi, the one day is shitty but his other dad, lovely, i love their relationship. parents are winning in this ep.

teachers? JAIL (maybe not rafa but we'll still see). honestly, i'm not hating the teachers being gg, i like that they put gg out there for other private schools so i'm enjoying it but still JAIL. JAIL. JAIL.

our mains

we didn’t get to see much of monet but her little blow up motion at the end was funny and when the chick offered her name, monet said no. queen. and home girl accepted it.

luna was #theebest from her doing the zoya glow up. i think everyone agrees that her holding up the phone is a fan favorite. luna is my best one liner girl. her delivery is on point.

obie, more of obie, i know people don’t like him but he’s an alright character for me. i see potential but we need to flush him out a bit more. i hope to see more of his interactions with aki, give us the friendship. i want him to take what he learns to heart.

zoya, yes girl, pop off. i guess she can when it comes to her passions but not to her. (just be catty once back) i love that she did call luna when it came to the hashtag and she realized who she couldn’t be fairly quickly. i wonder if the play wright is the new friend.

julien! honestly, she really is a queen and i’m loving her pushing back against monet and luna more and more. i also love the scheming and her night out with max. they’re great together and i just wanna see more of it. (all of the friendships) i also love her relationship with her dad. i like that they talk and work things out and while he shouldn’t have lied, i get why and i love that he thought about her so much.

idk how to even to the next few but here we go.

honestly, i found aud and aki funny this episode. their reactions were so alike but so different. the awkward wave and everything. i get that they’re lying to themselves but damn, if they could find a way to spice up their sex life they’d be good. i find them so cute as a couple when they’re all cuddly and just ugh. guys. talk. i will say that after though, when they met in the hall way, i like that once it was out there, aki was straight to the point. honestly, if they broke up...i don’t think it’d be bad, i think they’d be good friends and understanding of each other.

i saw people saying that they didn’t give enough (aki) but max was on his monologue shit and i think they were in two different mindsets. aki didn’t look blank, he looked pissed. and i would be too lowkey, you say you don’t wanna be in the middle of it but then you put yourself, right in the middle. and aside from the kiss, i don’t think aki tried anything more with him unless it comes out that he did. but a few days passed (julien jetting around) so i don’t if they were that thirsty. audrey probs thought that in that moment, she’d really lose aki and that’s what brought her too tears. i think aki already accepted what might happen and was just pissed while audrey, even when she told julien about it, she was disconnected in her head about what she had done.

max was a rollercoaster this episode. from the taking julien out to posting her with the coke to making the plans. it’s was all chaos. i think the moment i felt the worst from aside from the break down? when he didn’t realize the trouble with his parents marriage at the table but we could all see it. that was heart breaking and my dude though, his planning was on ten. making the profile, switching the seats, the hands on the thigh (aki licking his lips) and then his break down and just telling of the truth, exploding, spilling the tea. whatever you wanna call it. it was wonderful and his reasons for doing it, so childish and backfired but you get it. he just wanted the truth out with his parents and it all went to hell. really, heart breaking but amazing for the show and his character development.

my man is still messy though, even without telling the business. like aud and max were in a relationship but those were yo friends my dude. you legit blocked aki from sitting next to his girlfriend, im crying. (messy and he knows it and aki liked his lips. sick.)

now random thoughts that had no real place

audrey’s actress makes these strange faces sometimes...idk...it’s funny to me because i’m wondering why

the scene when max’s dads and rafa met, jesus

would you spell it buffl-ho?

it’s the least you could do

did aki say shenanigans, boy you are a kid

the moment with max and his dad, still, thinking about and it still cute, all cuddly, idk if the og parents were like this but i love it

since we’re getting mostly reasonable parents i expect the worse ones to pop up soon

the way monet delivered that brad line, it sends

why would he put her doing coke on

aud / aki had reasons to think max would blab because he’s messy

my boy aki flirting with other dudes as rafa

i could see aud asking aki to make out with any boy while she watches, so guys get it together please

how did obie not see aki stops talking and suddenly look at max

i wonder if someone has tried to take advantage of max because those words hit too hard

those teachers really set home girl up, omg, JAIL.

aki needs new friends who’ll love his movie drops. he just gets bullied into things, maybe it’s his kink i won’t judge but he couldn’t change by himself, pushed into the bathhouse, the profile, obie won’t let the group chat name stick #stopgettingbullied

aki’s & max’s relationship summed up into one tweet, he really likes this boi, once i’m SICK (click the sentence)

i haven’t loved all of at school looks but i really liked juliens at the end of the episode

was the music transitions a little jarring to anyone else?

thanks all for now, just my minds ramblings as normal. i could go more in depth about all of this but i’m sure ya’ll are sick of reading it now.

#gossip girl reboot #max wolfe #aki menzies #julien calloway #luna la #c;gg

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cristalconnors · 3 years

Text

TOP 20 SONGS OF 2020

20. “BELOW THE CLAVICLE”- EARTHEATER

“The meaning hasn’t come up yet. It’s still under the surface below the clavicle.”

It isn’t just Alexandra Drewchin’s ear splitting soprano when she hits that impossibly high B, practically shrieking out the “cle” syllable of clavicle, though that’s undoubtedly when I first knew that Eartheater’s avant folk was for me- it’s also the cinematic, lush strings, both bowed and plucked (is that acoustic guitar or harp? I genuinely can’t tell), deepening and complicating the sonic texture of Drewchin’s study of parsing through emotions you aren’t ready to make sense of yet.

19. “PUSSY TALK”- CITY GIRLS, FT. DOJA CAT

“This pussy so ghetto, this pussy speak ebonics”

“WAP”’s funnier, classless Irish twin, though it’s important to note “Pussy Talk” came first. Yung Miami and JT enlist Doja Cat to expound on everything their pussies deserve and will absolutely settle for nothing less than. And why should they when they’re spitting out verses this inspiredly hilarious with such confidence and flow?

18. “LICK IN HEAVEN”- JESSY LANZA

“Once I’m spinning, I can’t stop spinning...”

Jessy Lanza is talking about losing your cool, letting your emotions get the best of you and lashing out instead of letting cooler heads prevail, but when that earworm of a chorus hits- “once I’m spinning, I can’t stop spinning” - I can’t stop spinning. I’m that woman on the single art, a wine mom lost in the delirium of the dance floor and in Lanza’s hypnotic, fragmented rhythms.

17. “GASLIGHTER”- THE CHICKS

“Boy, you know exactly what you did on my boat!”

“Gaslighter” finds Natalie Ames and her Chicks at their most simultaneously ruthless and ebullient, ripping Ames’s ex-husband Adrian Pasdar a new asshole and ratcheting up the righteous anger of “Goodbye Earl” tenfold, channeling it into a glorious wall of sound in what might be their most rousing, emotionally resonant chorus in their storied career.

16. “HANNAH SUN”- LOMELDA

“Hannah do no harm...”

While “Hannah Sun” begins as an exquisitely observed rumination on grappling with long-distance, pining for someone who’s a continent away, it gradually becomes clear that Hannah Read blames herself for putting the distance between her and the subject of her longing, and that the distance isn’t strictly literal. Skittering synths (or is that distorted flute?) complicate and enrich the texture of the song, allowing it to build organically and stunningly towards a heartbreaking plea to herself- “Hannah, do no harm.”

15. “FIRE”- WAXAHATCHEE

“And when I turn back around will you drain me back out? Will you let me believe that I broke through?”

When I’d drive back and forth between Dallas and Austin over and over again when I was in college, I’d often get off I-35 past Waco and take the back roads through towns I’d never heard of, the sun setting spectacularly behind the titular hills of Hill Country that were beginning to roll out in earnest. I think about that a lot when listening to “Fire,” a song dripping in rural Americana that was, unsurprisingly, inspired by a road trip. We’ve probably all been Katie Crutchfield as she crossed the bridge into West Memphis- alone in the car, awed by the simple beauty of the American countryside, making speeches to ourselves about our past mistakes and figuring out a way forward.

14. “3AM”- HAIM

“On the screen and in my jeans, just make me feel good.”

On an album full of genre departures and decidedly darker themes than we’ve typically heard from Haim in their near decade of syncopated bubblegum pop rock, “3AM” stands out not only as their most effective stab at pastiche, slipping into the trappings of contemporary R&B with shocking ease and gusto, but also as their most unabashedly fun track in their entire oeuvre. “I think you can hear the amount of joy and laughs we had making this song” Alana Haim tells Apple Music, and you absolutely can.

13. “QADIR”- NICK HAKIM

“We’re sinking down a hole without thinking about our loved ones who might be shrinking...”

I often wonder if I’m putting enough effort into maintaining my relationships with friends I don’t see regularly, who live several time zones away, living their own lives while I live mine. When the thought of sustaining simple correspondence becomes overwhelming, it’s easy for months to go by before you realize you haven’t spoken to one of your closest friends. “QADIR” plays less like a eulogy for a friend gone too soon (though of course it is that) than a plea to the listener to put in the work. It’s worth it. You never know when it’ll be too late.

12. “LEVITATING”- DUA LIPA

“Glitter in the sky, glitter in our eyes shining just the way we are.”

Just a few bars of that delightfully bouncy, extra-terrestrial beat is enough to launch me into space. It’s so refreshing to hear a song that remembers that pop is supposed to be joyful and is best when it’s a bit silly. When discussing this track with Apple Music, Dua Lipa cites Austin Powers as inspiration, elaborating that “if I do a video for this, Mike Meyers has to be in it.” Can’t you just see them together, performing a farcical pas de deux of seduction like the spiritual successor to “Beautiful Stranger?”

11. “RIQUIQUI”- ARCA

“Love in the face of fear! Fear in the face of God!”

Arca’s made a career of harnessing chaos and somehow making sense of it. On an album that finds her embracing more traditional, accessible song structures, “Riquiqui” is a reminder that even when working within an AB structure, she’s still breaking rules left and right and having a blast doing it. She’s also never sounded so ferociously empowered in either her femininity or in her Venezuelan identity, rattling off local colloquialisms with affection and verve without a second thought as to who’s going to understand it.

10. “FANTASY”- AGAINST ALL LOGIC

“I think about you all the time...”

Or, the musical embodiment of this gif:

When Nicolas Jaar’s tormented synths and crunching beats give way to Beyoncé’s unmistakable alto, it is indeed quite the shock. But should it be? Even if 2017-2019 finds him ditching the dancefloor in favor of more severe, unforgiving soundscapes, his already varied career has shown us nothing’s off limits to him. So why not reinvent Beyoncé’s iconic “Baby Boy” into an industrial, vaguely sinister certified bop that arguably surpasses the original?

9. “PEOPLE, I’VE BEEN SAD”- CHRISTINE AND THE QUEENS

“If you disappear, then I’m disappearing, too.”

“People, I’ve been sad” plays out with the vulnerability and intimacy of a tumblr text post you put out in the middle of the night, only to hastily delete later when it gets no notes. It forgoes flowery language in favor of just getting to the point. “I’ve been sad.” Héloïse Adelaïde Letissier blows up this deceptively simple sentiment with richly layered textures and a big screen gloss not to offer any remedies but instead to offer solidarity. We’re all in this hell together.

8. “DESCRIBE”- PERFUME GENIUS

“Can you just find him for me?”

Mike Hadreas has never sounded so hopeless. Utilizing harsh, rattling guitar that would make Kevin Shields swoon, he conveys the experience of being so estranged from happiness and joy that you need to rely on others to describe the sensation to you. But how, when exploring darker textures than he ever has before, does he make despondency sound so divine?

7. “4 AMERICAN DOLLARS”- U.S. GIRLS

“No matter how much you get to have, you will still die and that’s the only thing.”

Meg Remy picks up where she left off on “4 American Dollars,” reviving the subversive pastiche she mastered on In a Poem Unlimited, this time harnessing the power of funk to dismantle the fallacies we’re taught about the virtues of capitalism. Heavy stuff, but Remy makes it less didactic than joyous, ensuring the listener will be singing “I don’t believe in pennies and nickels and dimes and dollars and pesos and pounds and rupees and yen and rubles” until they start to wonder if maybe they shouldn’t, either.

6. “STUPID LOVE”- LADY GAGA

“I freak out, I freak out, I freak out, I freak out!”

Due to a healthy spirit of contrarianism mixed with a touch of internalized homophobia and genuine bafflement at her universal appeal and praise, I was a proud Lady Gaga hater for as long as she’d been a cultural entity. I just didn’t get her at all and loved that about myself. Annoying, I know. 2020 was the year I was finally ready to let that all go. Just before the world fell apart in March, I was out at Flaming Saddles (RIP) with friends the night this song came out and by the sixteenth time it played, I understood why it was inducing such hysteria. This was a cultural shift. After a frustrating near-decade of Gaga subverting expectations so thoroughly that she was actively working against her strengths and sabotaging her cultural ubiquity in the process, coupled with the most frightening era of political upheaval in our lifetimes, she was finally ready to save us and be Lady Gaga again. Booming synth, drag sensibilities, absurd thematic conceits- all was right in the world. For the first time in a long time, people had something to be hopeful about, and as I danced that night, I felt that hope, too.

5. “SHELLFISH MADEMOISELLE”- RÓISÍN MURPHY

“How dare you sentence me to a lifetime without dancing?”

As soon as that bass starts (the funkiest bassline in the history of music?) it’s like Róisín Murphy’s snake charming oboe, coaxing even the most stalwart curmudgeon onto the dancefloor and keeping them there, dancing frantically and involuntarily like the citizens of Strasbourg in 1518, trying their best to keep up with Murphy who isn’t even breaking a sweat, commanding the masses with a sultry remove, beckoning you closer, pulling you inexorably deeper into the mass of gyrating bodies and whispering in your ear “come and have a dance with yer mum.”

4. “PARTY 4 U”- CHARLI XCX

“I only threw this party for you...”

As PC Music / Bubblegum Bass / whatever you want to call it enters its second decade, Charli XCX proves not only that there’s still new textures to explore within it, but also that no one can exploit its artifice to get down to emotional truths like she can. How can she make something this slick sound so vulnerable? “I only threw this party for you” she croons over and over again over glorious syncopated synths that build exquisitely, reaching their climax only to immediately fall away, until it’s just her and her trusty autotune, pleading with the subject of the song to just come to the damn party. But they won’t, of course. They never do, do they?

3. “WAP”- CARDI B, FT. MEGAN THEE STALLION

“I want you to touch that lil’ dangly thing that swing in the back of my throat!”

Sometimes you just immediately know you’re living through a significant cultural moment. No, not COVID. I’m talking about the experience of hearing Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion’s instant classic “WAP” for the first time, a titanic meeting of the minds that finds both of them at the apex of their cultural influence and at their most undeniable. Can the argument be made that these two aren’t the two best rappers in the game right now? How could you hear this inspiredly filthy sex positive juggernaut, where Cardi and Megan are trading the sickest verses of their careers, and not think these two deserve the world?

2. “KEROSENE!”- YVES TUMOR

“I can be your baby in real life, sugar. I can live in your dreams.”

If the 2010′s were all about the pop-ification of all music, trading in live instrumentation in favor of polished synths, 2020 forcefully announced the return of the electric guitar when Yves Tumor and Diana Gordon’s back and forth lustfully submissive declarations of desire suddenly gave way to that nasty guitar rip lifted from Uriah Heep’s “Weep in Silence” to announce yet another cultural shift in a year chock full of them- rock and roll was, indeed, here to stay.

1. “I WANT YOU TO LOVE ME”- FIONA APPLE

“I move with the trees in the breeze, I know that time is elastic.”

We live and we learn. Years spent soul searching and on self-discovery shape us into better, smarter people, progressively knowing and understanding ourselves and the world around us more and more clearly, but Fiona Apple knows that none of that can quell the ferocious desire to be loved by someone. By anyone. By you, whoever that is. We can know that time is elastic and that when we’re gone all our particles will disband and disperse and then we’ll be back in the pulse, and we can know that none of this stuff actually matters, but still- we want, we want, we want.

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fleckcmscott · 3 years

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Stepping Stones - Chapter 2

Chapter links: 1

Summary: Y/N and Arthur share a delightful life, one that isn’t perfect but wholly theirs. When his struggles take a serious turn, she's surprised by the toll it exacts. Though the steps they'll have to take aren't easy, walking them together makes all the difference.

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Struggles with mental illness

Words: 3,739

A/N: Once again, a heartfelt thanks to @sweet-nothings04 for offering to beta-read this story and her encouragement. Her contributions have been invaluable! Also, thank you guys for your support! I hope you continue to enjoy this story. And don’t worry: there may be angst - but there’s love, too.

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask! I’m still working on requests and Way Back Home!

Y/N wasn't used to being searched. It'd last happened at the District Courthouse when she'd gotten in the wrong line and nearly wound up in the jury room for a murder trial. At least the stout woman in Arkham's visitor entrance lobby was more pleasant than the bailiffs.

Unassuming in a white polo shirt and black pants, her nametag introduced her as Gladys, and the split "I Can Help!" sticker along the top cemented her as a fixture. She was friendly for a Gothamite, commenting on the sunny weather while unceremoniously dumping the contents of Y/N's handbag onto a plastic table pad. Asking about the ride over as she politely ignored tampons and confiscated a nail file. She spelled Y/N's name back to her before jotting it on the sign-in sheet and offered a genuine smile. "You have a nice time with your husband, dear. Just check out with me before you leave."

Visitor's badge pinned above her left breast, Y/N adjusted the collar of her red silk blouse, ensured the heart pendent around her neck was centered, and pushed through the door marked "Visitation."

Her kitten heels click-clacked across the checkerboard linoleum floor. The cafeteria was large, like an elementary school gymnasium without the scoreboards. Lack of funding had turned the once pristine walls to the off-white of a bathtub that had seen too few scrubbings. Large windows dotted them in sets of two, each covered with grate from the inside. Metal fans were riveted to their frames, a poor attempt to compensate for the lack of fresh air. To her left, six rows of steel tables stretched halfway across the room, about a third full of staff and patients, family members and friends. A metal buffet stood to her right, along with a sign stating a menu of beef cutlets and gravy would be served at 5:30 PM. A pony wall separated a family area on the far end. She spotted a patient with his wife and daughter watching cartoons together, ones that were old enough for Y/N to have grown up on.

It struck her how average the place felt, similar to the hospital back home she'd spent far too many hours in. It made sense: the people here were patients like any other, even if they were under lock and key. When she headed to the aluminum coffee urn on a rickety steel cart, there was a woman, around thirty, making conversation with a new wave chick, holding a ragged teddy bear and pulling her hair. Their eyes met and Y/N attempted a friendly smile. Once she'd purchased two cups, she sat by a window and crossed her legs, foot swinging back and forth as she sipped the stale liquid.

She tried to quell her nervous anticipation. Due to his time of admittance, Arthur's forty-eight-hour observation period had stretched late into Thursday night, well after visiting hours. Tasks big and small had punctuated the wait. One of Arthur's clients called to confirm a birthday party, and Y/N, hazy from lack of sleep, explained there'd been a family emergency.

Then it dawned on her that she'd have to find Arthur's gig list, which meant rummaging through his desk, a private space she'd respected since presenting him with it for their anniversary. Thank god he no longer locked the drawers, because she had no idea where he kept the key. (There were only so many hiding places in their three-room apartment, but she had no desire to search every nook and cranny.) The yellow legal pad resided in the top left drawer, under a prop catalog and kraft paper notebook. After ringing Gary and asking him to fill in ("I'm not sure I can do all these, but I can mention them at HaHa's." "That'd be great but don't get yourself in trouble. And, please, leave out Randall."), she telephoned eight households and three businesses with his contact information and apologies.

She worked extra hours in the evening to make up for the time she'd inevitably take off when Arthur was home, an arrangement that wasn't strictly legal, but she didn't see the harm in. Her colleagues graciously ignored the number of personal calls she made, to ask how Arthur was doing and learn about policies. While he wasn't yet rational, staff said, he was cooperative. Well, mostly cooperative. He'd eaten breakfast and referred to everyone as sir or ma'am, but he'd also caused a ruckus when he'd come to and found his wedding ring missing. They'd made an exception to the no jewelry rule and given it back. Personal clothing wasn't permitted, either, besides underwear, and toiletries were out of the question. It irked her - he deserved the dignity of his own hairbrush - but she didn't want to single him out by arguing for further favors. So she shuttled over a week's worth of briefs on her lunch break, chest tight as she gave it to the man with headphones at reception.

Despite the setting, despite the weight of not knowing what mood he'd be in, a thrill bubbled through her veins. Whenever a silhouette appeared behind the glue chip glass of the patient entrance, her pulse skipped. Y/N knew it was silly to expect a lot this first visit but she couldn't help it. She missed him. She missed him. Like it had been thirty days instead of three.

It took about six minutes for the door to crack an inch, and a full ten seconds for it to open completely. An orderly propped his weight against it, pointing in her general direction with his head. She stood and smoothed her palm down her A-line skirt, ensured the hem was at her knee. Maybe it was selfish, perhaps even foolish, but she hoped the surprise would be a highlight of Arthur's day, make him feel better, and she hoped seeing him would be one of hers. He was still her partner, after all. Still her Arthur. That would never change.

Clad in white scrubs and white shoes and about twenty feet away, Arthur stepped over the threshold and scanned the room. She gave him a modest wave when she caught his eye. His approach was more tentative than she would have liked, his steps shorter than usual, fists balled at his sides. As he drew closer, she noted the oiliness of his hair, the two-day black and grey stubble on his chin. His crow's feet had grown deeper, his eyelids slightly purple. Exhaustion dripped from every pore. The cut on his forehead had scabbed over into a thin line, quite modest considering its origin and how much he'd bled.

But he was as beautiful to her as always. The hint of a smile tipped her mouth. "Hi, Arthur."

"Hi," he said lowly. A reservation she barely recognized clouded his light green irises.

Part of her began to suspect popping in like this had been a mistake. Giving up wasn't in her nature, however, especially when it came to the love of her life. She forged ahead, closing the gap between them. Dr. Kellerman had advised her to let Arthur set the pace of their visits, to offer support while respecting his boundaries. Yet, touching him had become as vital to her as breathing, and it didn't occur to her to ask for permission before she reached to cup his face.

His skin felt papery under her fingertips, and red, flakey spots of dermatitis bloomed next to his nose and below his eye. He smelled of cheap bar soap and detergent, though whiffs of his woodsy masculine scent lurked underneath. But his clothes were clean and fit him well, better than half his own wardrobe. "I'm so happy to see you," she said, tracing his sharpened cheeks.

He nodded weakly, lips pursed into a grimace of disbelief. "Good."

"I got us some coffee. We can sit here or on one of the sofas."

"Here's fine."

She took his hand and led him to their table, itching for him to entwine their fingers, lamenting a little when he didn't. While he followed closely, his posture radiated tension like an oven radiated heat. Rather than the gait they'd adopted over the years, he moved as if he was afraid to touch her, as if he feared she'd disappear. Or reject him. Once he was situated and stirring sugar into his cup, she sat beside him and bumped their legs, refusing to let his fears go unchallenged. "How's your room?"

"It's okay. Just me. I'm not there much." He blew lightly on his steaming brew. "I haven't seen this part of the hospital before."

Y/N arched her brow. "No?"

"Penny had trouble getting over here to visit. When I had episodes."

Flabbergasted, a huff of disapproval escaped her. Arthur had been in out Arkham six or seven times, and Penny hadn't made it over once? According to Arthur, she'd been sick for a while, but what about twenty years ago? Even later, they hadn't had any money, which meant she would've had to care for herself while he was away. If she had had the wherewithal to go through the process of committing her son, couldn't she have at least called a cab? Y/N pushed her ire aside, not wanting it to affect Arthur. "Did you see your therapist today?"

"Mhm."

"Is he good? Does he listen to you?"

"He's fine."

She took a long drink. "Did you get the underwear I brought over?"

"Yeah." he sighed, tipping his head back to stare at the ceiling. "They wrote my name on the waistband."

"I'll get new ones," she said, tapping her chin in contemplation, opting for a little cheer. "Donahue's has a racy number from Mad Mod. How'd you feel about zig-zag bikinis in maroon?" Instead of the laugh she'd craved, the incredulous smirk he saved for ridiculous suggestions, his knees quaked, bouncing and bouncing, freshly wound springs in bleached cotton.

None of this was going as she'd pictured.

Self-consciousness was atypical for her, a personality trait she'd shed in her late twenties after a failed marriage and the beginning of her parents' declines. Being with Arthur felt secure, open, even during his worst days. When he'd discovered his mother's Arkham file, learned the details of his abuse. Or the weeks after she'd passed and any chance of finding out more about himself, the truth about his father and chance to get a crumb of paternal affection, had died along with her.

Gathered at this table with her husband and bad coffee, old insecurities returned with the force of a subway careening at full speed. She sought to encourage him but didn't want to dismiss his feelings, harken back when he'd been burdened with "Happy." Her questions were obviously getting on his nerves - she was at a loss as to how he'd react to more of them. Their banter had vanished. The clues she had to follow were based on an old map, comprised of well-worn paths to joy she could walk with her eyes closed. Now those paths were overgrown with weeds.

But she wouldn't stop trying to trim them. Some shears were in reach: a woman's magazine lay abandoned on a nearby table, famous for its relationship quizzes and bedroom advice. She snagged it, scooted her chair closer to Arthur, and flipped through the glossy pages until the headline "Are You Meant To Be?" screamed in bright pink font. She cleared her throat and read aloud. "'You and your husband are shipwrecked on a desert island. You can take any household item with you. What item would you bring?'" She paused, then went with what first came to mind. "Toothbrush. I can't expect you to kiss me when I-"

"Why are you acting like this?"

Her gaze locked on him. "Like what?"

"Like I haven't fucked everything up."

Automatically, she reached for his thigh, not heeding the angry twitch of his jaw. "You haven-"

He batted her arm away, inadvertently knocking the magazine to the floor. "Don't lie to me," he rasped. "I don't like you seeing me like this. I don't want you to have to come visit and pretend." He wiped his nose with the back of his hand, an anger she recognized as shame dripping from every word. "Can you please just go?"

Pain lanced through her, pain she hadn't felt since her father, deep in the throes of dementia, had accused her of stealing from him. Her lashes lowered to hide her hurt. Arthur acting like this was proof of how out of sorts he was, how much he was struggling with his illnesses. But it didn't make his behavior any easier to take, even if she firmly believed it should. She had to try to accept him as he was in the moment. To forgive him and herself for pressing him too far, too quickly. To listen to his request for time, the way he'd listened to hers after the Murray show, giving her the gift of patience and understanding. A gift he also deserved.

Pushing herself to stand, she glanced at the orderly and lay a gentle palm on Arthur's back. To her relief, he didn't retreat. "I'm here if you need me," she said softly. "If you feel up to it, give me a ring. We could both use a joke or two." Fingertips caressed his distended shoulder, and she pecked the crown of his head, breathed in the oily musk of his scalp. Not entirely pleasant but him all the same. "We'll see each other soon. Get some rest and remember I love you."

~~~~~

"This woman wandered in off the street the other day. Pointy-toed shoes, fur coat, pillbox hat like she thinks she's Jackie Kennedy..." Perched on Y/N's side of the bed, Patricia dunked her orange pekoe teabag, gave it a good squeeze, laid it on her saucer. "She wanted to sue the Wayne Estate for damages to her Bentley, because Thomas Wayne had broken a legally binding oral agreement - she must have read a legal thriller and gotten haughty - to fix the potholes in Old Gotham when he was mayor. I told her to complain to Public Works, but she decided to camp out at your old desk to clip her nails. Finally, Matt had enough and offered her a phone call to Gotham PD or ten bucks for her trouble." She shook her head with a chuckle. "What a jackass. Retirement can't come soon enough."

"Don't wish your life away," Y/N retorted, inadvertently quoting a pamphlet she'd gotten from the Arkham gift shop, "Care for the Caregiver." The title had made her balk: Arthur bathed himself, fed himself, knew who she was. But it had been a straw to hold onto, albeit feebly. She retrieved a curved, wooden hanger from the closet and stuck one end in the arm of her freshly ironed blouse. "Besides, you've been working since you were sixteen, right? I give it a year before you'd go stir-crazy."

"Actually, I've been thinking about taking a class or two at the learning center," said Patricia.

"Oh, really? What kind? Pottery, advanced baking, conversational Spanish?"

"How to find nicer friends."

Hand on her hip, Y/N smirked over her shoulder to find Patricia's teacup raised for a toast. "Let me know what you learn," Y/N said, hoisting the laundry basket onto the bed. "I could use a few pointers." She batted the older woman with a dress sock, then fished for its companion. She shook them out. Aligned the cuffs and toes, smoothed the nylon with the side of her hand, folded the fabric into thirds. The top drawer's left ball-bearing slide stuck when she tried to pull it open, and she made a mental note to ask Arthur to take a look at it.

Without warning, a profound sense of loss swept over her, flushing her cheeks, her forehead. He'd been gone almost a week, the longest they'd been apart aside from conferences and training. Her days had been blessedly busy but dragged on nonetheless, slow as the secondhand on her watch when the battery had to be replaced.

Arthur had gotten in the habit of leaving a note whenever he had an early gig or errand to run, just a few words stating where he was, that he'd be home later, that he loved her. Though she knew he was in Arkham, she couldn't stop her heart from expecting one when she made morning coffee. She ached to pull him inside before he lit a second cigarette, and for his teasing kisses when he'd resist. The way he brushed his teeth from side-to-side, eschewing her method of small circles and daily flossing. Last night, a hot flash had kept her awake, and she'd longed for the feel of his strong, slender hands rubbing refrigerated lotion into her calves, a trick he'd learned to quiet his mother when she'd gone through what he politely referred to as The Change.

Y/N had never wanted to love someone so much she needed them, but Arthur had made it safe. And now here she was, anguishing over a stubborn piece of furniture. She gave the knob another good, hard heave until it popped off into her palm. With a groan, she slapped it on the top of the dresser, between his wallet and her jewelry box.

A gentle hold on her elbow halted her. "The clothes'll keep," Patricia said.

The compassion in her voice, subtle chords that would sound like judgement to others, loosened Y/N's stance. Granted permission for her to take a break from coping and give into grief. Slinking down onto the mattress, she picked up Arthur's blue house pants from the mound of panties and trousers and hugged them to her breast.

"Your anniversary is coming up," Patricia continued. "Will Arthur be home for it?"

"Yes. Three weeks is all the insurance will pay for, and Dr. Kellerman said we were lucky to get that." Most patients were discharged after two, even if they had nowhere else to go.

"How is he? Do you think he'll be ready then?"

"I'm not sure. He barely comes to the phone." She'd tried letters, too. Written on her office letterhead, declarations of her support and affection that were as stilted as the motions she regularly drafted. Something for him to read when they couldn't speak, when they couldn't touch. But he hadn't responded.

Although Y/N was the sole person he'd added to his list of allowed visitors, he hadn't signed the release. Sure, she'd learn the details of his care if a court remanded him, but she wasn't about to have him declared legally incompetent, not unless everything went to shit. But she had deduced his schedule by calling and asking if he could come to the phone. He's in group, Mrs. Fleck, the charge nurse had let slip. Or, You can try in an hour. He should be out of one-on-one by then.

Therapy three times a day. Safety and daily living skills. Goal setting before bed. No wonder he hadn't had the energy to say good night.

"I know what you're going through," Patricia said. She stretched to put her empty teacup on the nightstand. "When Robert got back from Korea, he kept his distance. Buried himself in starting his business, was gone most nights on extra late repair jobs, worked, worked, worked. It was nearly a year before he really came home. But he made it and Arthur will, too."

The intimacy behind the disclosure was a welcome invitation, a hook that tugged at Y/N's core and confirmed honesty would be all right. She drew a shaky breath, fiddled with a loose thread on the hem of Arthur's pajamas. "I thought I'd seen everything. Losing my mother, going out of my mind with my father. Those were finalities I couldn't prevent." Rapid blinking fought the wetness of her eyes. She swiped at them with the heel of her hand. "If you had seen him, Patricia... I just hope Arthur understands. I don't want him to think I wanted him to leave."

"Listen to me." Patricia adopted her mentor tone and hugged her tight around the middle. "There's no way he'd believe that. Remember when we doubled at Kao Wah? When we were in the restroom, and he ordered your favorite dish without having to ask what it was? He adores you." She swept her hand through the air as if she could sweep away Y/N's woes. "You promised to take care of him through everything. You did what you had to to keep him safe. You couldn't have done anything else, Y/N. Don't doubt yourself."

After some moments Y/N nodded. "You know, my parents had a swimming hole on our property. When I was young, I used to skip stones across it and make wishes. For my doll's arm to mend, for my parents to say safe, for my sister's surgeries to go well." She chuckled and dabbed at her cheeks with Arthur's house pants. "I guess it was like praying, which I never had use for." The slightest smile edging her lips, she turned to Patricia. "Let's go to Gotham Park and throw some rocks."

~~~~~

The next morning, eleven percent of her worries cast away by a currently sore right arm, Y/N walked past Sherwood Florist, a closet of a shop around the corner from her office. Storefront freshly washed, robust floral arrangements on display in large, spotless windows, and an owner in horn-rimmed glasses checking the temperature of the nearest cooler, she decided to stop in. Yes, the florist told her, an expression of dubious curiosity on his face. They delivered to Arkham. Just include the patient's full name and ward in the address, and it'd be sent this afternoon.

She chose a squat, plastic vase filled with daisies and a yellow enclosure card with a bumblebee in the lower left corner. A bit cutsie for her taste, but it was the only neutral choice among birthdays and congratulations. She pondered what to write, pushing back the urge to ask him to reach out. A minute later, she put her pen to the cardstock. "I miss you like thread misses a needle. (Good thing you're the comedian - that was terrible.) You're not alone in this. You have my whole heart. - Y/N."

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve @ithinkimaperson @sweet-nothings04 @stephieraptorr @rommies @fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1 @octopus-plasma @tsukiakarinobara @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile @another-day-in-chuckletown @hhandley80 @jokerownsmysoul @rafaelbottom @ralugraphics @iartsometimes

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x female reader #arthur fleck x ofc #joker 2019 #watchwhathappens

24 notes · View notes

unknown-writing · 3 years

Text

Summary:

You’ve felt Sad before. But lately, it’s been getting worse these days. Nothing has helped you pull yourself out of this slump. You tried doing anything that your fellow crewmates recommended, but nothing worked. Not even the most basic of tasks helped get you out of this slump.

So….You turned to Other Stuff. You didn’t care whether or not drugs or alcohol wouldn’t actually help you. You just wanted to forget about your Sadness for a while...Even if it was just for five minutes.

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

Warning(s): Drug Use[Future chapter(s)], Alcohol consumption[Future chapter(s)], Depression, angst, mentions of suicide attempts[Future chapter(s)], mentions of self-starvation, eventual smut[Future chapter(s).]

Word count: 1k+

Author’s Note: Been feeling really down lately...So, I’m using my crush with Law to my advantage to fight against my intrusive thoughts. Sorry if this starts becoming too much for you to read. Feel free to block my tag “a helping hand” to avoid triggers~!

You counted the amount of days you’ve been feeling Sad like this. And you counted 32 days straight...32 days of constant sadness, some days were bad, other days where so bad that you never even got up unless somebody came to fetch you for Law. Today was no exception to those extremely bad days. By the time you had woken up, it was already past Noon, and everybody had gone to the Island that they'd reached to stock up on supplies for their next voyage. Groggy as all hell, you slowly woke up, your body felt extremely heavy and Hot...Too hot almost, you just ignored the heat though and went to change into your usual casual but nice looking attire for the day, slapping on a baggy, unclean tank-top, your baggy sweatpants that you’ve been wearing for the past month, and then your running shoes.

You lazily pulled yourself together before heading out to the main dining room area in the hopes of grabbing some food, only to pause and remember that the main reason why the ship wasn’t moving was because they went to stock up on food. “No food huh?....Guess I’ll starve.” You mumbled to yourself, grabbing at least a bottle of water before heading out so it made it look like you’ve eaten.

Gulping down half of the bottle already, you reached the main lobby area of the ship, seeing the same crew members that followed Law, they were just muttering amongst themselves quietly, they sounded more excited than usual to you, “Too Loud...” You thought to yourself as you decided to head outside for some fresh air rather than mingle with the crew today. Despite the fact that you barely know any of them aside from Bepo and Penguin for the most part, as they’re the ones that tend to stick to Law’s hip like lost kittens.

Once you were outside of the ship, you noticed a lot of boxes that started showing up out of the blue, you then noticed that you had walked into a Room created by Law. “....Right, I forgot we were gathering more supplies….” You thought as you took a look at what he’d gotten for his crew, and possible extra’s in case they ran into the Straw Hat’s as they’re still in an Alliance of sorts from what you can recall. You yawned before going forward while crawling down from the top of the Submarine, placing your water bottle down on a closed box nearby so you could at the very least, help put the stuff back.

Before you could move anything though, Bepo noticed you were awake, “Oh!? Y/n san’s finally awake!” he shouted while pointing towards you lifting a box to give it to another, much more stronger crew member to carry it down into the ship for you. Law noticed that you were trying to help despite how late you’ve slept in recently. “Morning.” he says as he patted your head gently while climbing up into his ship for the day to get stuff organized. You didn’t do much, you were just helping lifting boxes but even so, that got you a “Morning” from your captain, usually he would just glare at you then turn to finish whatever he was doing. Shrugging it off, you continued to help out until your arms felt like jelly, being the weaker one out of the group, you were better off at organizing stuff rather than carrying it.

As the crew gathered in the main hallway, Law looked around to see that stuff wasn’t organized like he thought it was, “Tch...Dammit. Everything seems to be mis-matched and out of order. That’ll be a pain in the ass to deal with.” He looked as he opened the boxes, to find that the only things that were separated was Produce and Weaponry (Guns, Gun Ammo etc.) You looked at his irritated face and then spoke up, “I can organize things for you, Law.” You offered, bending down to be at his height level to look at the current box of mis-matched random items..Some of them seemed to be medicine and bandages, while others looked like paperwork stuff. “You know how to organize Y/n? I highly doubt it seeing your room is a mess.” He bounty states, commenting on your messy room. You chose to ignore that though and stood up, “I can organize shit! I may need help though.” You asked him, hoping he’d order the crew to help you organize this stuff better for him while he did other stuff that needed his attention. “....Fine….You can take charge in organizing this Mess...Bepo will come with me to navigate us to the next Island….” He pauses then glares at the crew that didn’t seem to accept the fact that the weakest member of the ship was the one bossing them around, “And the lot of you...Listen to y/n! The faster this shit gets organized, the faster we set sail got it? I don’t want to be bothered by random bullshit complaints because a chick’s bossin’ you around.” he bluntly comments again, making the crew stiffen in slight fear of his booming voice that echoed the room.

After three straight hours of organizing, replacing, and relabeling items, you sat down on the nearest surface your body could reach. That was a daunting task to do considering you’re not in the best mindset right now. Ikkaku helped out with part of the relabeling the items that seemed to either have a missing label, or have the wrong one altogether. “Well, that went by fairly swiftly..” Penguin commented while placing the final box with the rest of them before flopping on the floor, completely drained from helping out with the heavy lifting. You sat there, now regretting not at least grabbing a small thing to eat before starting this heavy workload, your stomach growled softly, which made you flustered. “Hungry huh?” Ikkaku commented while standing up again to get back to work, “Yeah….Maybe just a little bit.” You admit, but didn’t mention that you didn’t eat anything for breakfast or lunch either.

Part of the crew split off after organizing stuff for you to get started on dinner as it was already close to 7pm. You decided to go back to your room until dinner was ready. The comment about how messy your room was started to repeat in your head until you had flopped onto your bed, groaning in annoyance, “Why does he have to be so right.”

You then fell asleep through dinner. Your mental state was getting even worse than what it already was.

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

You didn’t mean to sleep right through dinner. You even had set up an alarm to wake you at least 25 minutes before so you had time to wake up, get dressed quickly, then head out to the dinning hall...But, by the time you had woken up, it was 7:30am the next morning, at least from what your clock had told you. You couldn’t tell since the ship was under water again, having set sail for the next Island which would take them a while to get too. You groaned, cursing as you slowly got up again and then sighed. Your eyes weren’t even fully open yet but you still got up regardless to go eat something for today.

You paused before standing up from the bed, hearing muffled whispers against your door, you thought you were hallucinating and just shrugged it off. But, the whispers kept happening, they started to get louder and from what you can tell, the whispered voices seemed to be arguing about something. “--No! You wake her up! The last time I woke her up, she threw her pillow at my face in irritation!” A male voice echoed, you instantly recognized who it was...Groaning, you yawned as you stood up to head outside to see why Bepo and whoever else was there, was arguing right in front of your door so early in the morning. They /know/ your not a morning person, so why the fuck are they here?

Unlocking the door, the two crewmates flinched to see you after being asleep for so long. “O-Oh! Hello y/n san! Good morning!” Bepo stuttered out, nervous on why you look so deadly. It worried him that you looked like this. “.....Morning……” You weakly responded, noticing that Ikkaku was holding a tray of food for you..A lot of it too, it looked like they were some of your favorite meals they had prepared. “Sorry to bother you y/n san but, we thought you were sick, so we brought you some food! We made sure to bring a lot of it because you missed out on food yesterday.” She said, pointing out that she noticed you were hungry yesterday. You internally smacked yourself, forgetting that you never ate a single thing yesterday. Reaching out for the tray of piled on food, you took it to place it on the small desk you had then turned to face them, “Thanks for the food.” You said weakly, as you closed the door to your bedroom.

“Don’t thank us.” Ikkaku said before turning to head the other way, “Thank Law. Since he was the one that noticed you weren’t at dinner last night.” She said before leaving with Bepo following her….Haring that line, just made you feel more guilty. You had worried your captain to the point of him making enough food for you to eat for the day, despite the fact that you’re just not Hungry. Sighing, you still decided to eat some of the food in front of you, even if it was just in small bites here and there. Even so, you couldn’t finish that much. Setting aside, you flopped back on the bed.

The next few hours had passed. You woke up to loud banging against your door, startled awake, you groaned as you got up, “Alright already, I’m awake! Sheesh!” You yelled, then started to mutter to yourself, “Don’t start snapping back y/n-ya.” Law replied, which made you freeze up. You should’ve expected that he was the one that would start banging on the door next, considering he’s your captain, and a doctor. Opening the door to see that he was scowling, he looked down at you, a sting of guilt punched your throat, which made you start to stutter out a weak response to his glare. He didn’t respond back however, all he did was walk into your room and started turning on the bedroom lights for you, seeing that you’ve done nothing but stay in the dark for the last 72 hours.

“Three days.” he starts off after he clicks on your nightstand lamp before turning back to glare down at you, “it’s been three days since you’ve been cooped up in here by yourself.” A low growl of irritation leaked his throat, which caused you to flinch again. A brief moment of silence filled the room before you could respond, “....I’m Sorry.” You simply said while staring at the floor, feeling both guilty and nervous on what he was going to do next. Before you could respond, all he did was lift you with one arm over his shoulder, and then bring you to his office for a small Chat about your Mental State.

#tw// drug use #tw// alcohol #tw// angst #tw// depression #tw// self starvation #tw// suicide attempts #not a request #long fic #trafalgar law #law x reader #law x y/n #one piece x reader #a helping hand

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boop-le-snoot · 4 years

Text

PARTY FAVOURS | CHAPTER 1

Rating: Explicit. 18+

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it's own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV.

Summary: You're Peter's classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don't know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you're lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: Bad girls are sad girls! Always wondered what goes through the mind of a spoiled, rich but intelligent and perceptive teenager? Have you found yourself craving that adrenaline rush, the danger of a forbidden fruit? Okay. That was cheesy as hell. Gross.

Let's try again. Sarcasm? Check. Vine references? Hell yes! Crude humour? Check. Blunt honesty? Double check. We're living in a Lana del Rey song, ladies.

The author doesn't actually condone codependent relationships in real life. This is a filthy little fantasy. Enjoy, deviants.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings

Beta read by the lovely and patient @miscmarvelwritings ! She deserves all the love 💙

Pining. I was pining after Stark and it made me upset. I thought I was better than that. Better than acting the part of a lovesick puppy, begging for scraps of attention- a kind word, a pat on the shoulder, a blanket thrown over me in my sleep. Even if he was my Mount Olympus, I wasn't exactly on board with starting the whole damn journey in the first place.

Most of all, I hated being a cliché. I tried my best to avoid showing how I felt and with time, I think I excelled at it. I am really good with things if I really put my mind to it. Was it a blessing, or was it a curse? Only the future will tell. I try not to think about it, as I prefer not to stress out too much. Peter was the anxious kid and I was the calm one. I was the Ying to his Yang. He flipped his shit often and I always calmed him down and cleaned up after him. No complaints there, Pete is pure and precious and I would kill everybody and then myself if he actually got hurt.

I'm only a year older than him and that year feels like an uncrossable bridge to me. We get along like a house on fire and I delight in the way he starts smiling when we're paired together for a project. Deep inside I'm sure he thinks of me as one of his best friends, his homies but-and there's always a but-I can't reciprocitate that. He goes to decathlon after school with his wholesome BFF duo, I go to a local dive bar with a fake ID I'd made sometime when I was about 15.

Peter has everything I wish I've ever had. Good for him. I'm not going to mess that up, no matter how much my angst demands I throw a tantrum and become, like, a supervillain or something.

I banter, instead. I chit-chat. I laugh and I repeatedly make a joke out of myself. Nobody suspects a thing, and I'm not surprised. People always see what they want to see. I've been the weird loner since middle school. Not the sad kind, of course, my pride wouldn't let me. I'm too good at things to be completely ignored. Teachers adore me, the event planning committee approaches me every year with tentative pleas for advice. The list goes on and on; what they don't understand is that it's just High School. Another year and I'll be out of there and nobody will be wiser.

I feel like a liar every time I'm excited. Because I'm not that - I don't care about their stupid field trips or collaborative projects. My mind is five steps and two hops ahead of that bullshit. It has to be or I just won't make it in the world.

"Parker-pen, Mr. Stark. G'day, sirs," I nodded, entering the lab, looking straight ahead. They both were hunched over... Something vaguely mechanical and I was terribly, horribly hungover. Saturday night was Science night but I'd gone to bed around 2PM after a party ran way too late.

"Hi," and "Powerpuff girl," came from them respectively, and they didn't even lift their heads.

I wondered if I could just skedaddle and leave them to their big brain time. "Is this a bad time? I can come tomorrow instead," I immediately regretted speaking, even to my own ears my voice sounds scratchy.

"No, actually, Dr. Ban-Bruce-wanted to talk to you," Peter mumbled out half-coherently. Tony kept ignoring me and I was fine with that. The less temptation I have the less trouble there will be.

"I'm not playing with his zucchini again," I groaned, causing the intricate pile of metal to squeak sadly as Pete tripped over his own damn body, jostling the prototype in the process. I could have sworn the room got several degrees hotter from the boy's blush alone.

Tony cackled, shuffling away from the newly ruined prototype. "He won the damn contest, you should've seen the judges faces," The engineer's grin threatened to split his face in half. I poked at my phone in muted interest. "Hold up, Friday has a recording. I definitely recorded the thing."

A holo-screen popped up. Tranquil scenes of a local fair, gourds and other assorted vegetables of various grotesque sizes were scattered throughout the square. An unmistakable mop of curly greying hair posed proudly next to a zucchini half the size of Hulk - I was fairly certain genetically engineering the plant was cheating and warned him so but somehow Banner managed to persuade the judges into letting him participate, and ultimately win, the competition for the Biggest Zucchini. Some of them were quite shocked at the size of that thing and well - well, their glances were quite contemplative to say the least.

"Damn, Tony, that blonde chick's face tells me all I need to know," I gave a lopsided smirk in the engineer's general direction. That was our thing, you see? He called me these ridiculous cutesy nicknames and asked me about getting my nails done or going to the mall and I'd make salacious comments and go on an occasional flirtatious spree. That was comfortable. We both enjoyed making Peter blush and giggle like the little schoolboy that he was.

"Our Brucie bear is a freak, don't let him tell you any different, Princess," Tony winked at me.

"Oh, I know all about it, Tones," I suggestively wiggled my eyebrows. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Peter groan and palm his face. I briefly bumped my knuckles to Tony's outstretched hand and made my way to the adjacent lab that hosted the second resident crazy scientist.

"Bruce?"

"Oh, hi there, come on in," He smiled warmly at me and I relaxed, shrugging off the tension in my limbs that seemed to appear every time Tony was around me. Banner's soft, friendly nature always made me feel welcomed and appreciated.

We made small talk as I threw on a lab coat and some protective glasses and discarded my bag in the far corner, away from any possible explosions. I congratulated him on his recent victory - here is when I say that despite what most will say, Banner has a serious competitive mean streak and isn't afraid to get down and dirty when it comes to matters of his personal pride.

That's what makes us alike, I think. I have too much dignity and self-respect to walk around Tony with stars in my eyes and hang around his neck like yesterday's tie.

The quiet, even pace of doing lab work made me completely lose track of time. Some time passed as I felt the crick in my neck become noticeable, and the deep ache in my calves from standing and dancing yesterday worsened. I hopped onto the nearest table, hunched over a tablet, eyes skimming over research articles - most of it didn't register at all in the wake of a dull throb behind my temples. My hair limply hung over my face - I had to wash it to get rid of the stench-hard liquor and cigarettes - but I was way too lazy to style it properly.

I ignored the swaying strands until a large palm gently tucked them behind my ear, a white lab coat coming into my field of view. "You okay?" Banner's quiet voice interrupted my reading. I lifted eyes enough to see he was wearing a dorky button-up in some gross shade of blue under the lab coat. His eyes were affectionate behind thinly rimmed glasses.

"Rough Friday night?" He questioned.

I chuckled. "Yeah, I'm hungover as fuck." There was no point in hiding the obvious; I'm sure the bags under my eyes already had tattled on me.

He chuckled, too, leaning his hip against the table, one broad arm coming to wrap around me in a hug. Usually he wasn't so touchy-feely; but I wasn't complaining. Banner was really, really warm. "I'll spare you the lecture on underage drinking," He said with another chuckle.

"Yeah, it's pretty pointless. You'd be three years too late."

A deep sigh left him, both of his arms wrapping around me in a comfortable embrace. I rested my chin on his shoulder, trying my best to really avoid showing how touch-starved I was. I was a hundred percent sure they all figured out my family life was difficult; the last thing I needed was their pity.

"Y'know, we should sit down and talk someday," He said after a brief moment of hesitation. "About your future. College, maybe?"

I gave a non-committal hum, basking in the warmth of the hug, staring straight ahead with unseeing eyes - behind the glass divide, I could faintly distinguish Tony's and Peter's shapes, still bent over that bench the pile of metal.

"You have a lot of potential," Banner continued, his tone developing a gently admonishing hint. "I understand if you want to take some time off from your studies but I'd rather you succeed and not let all that potential go to waste," He finished, patting me on the back with a gentle hand.

I tried not to preen under his touch. "Are you attempting to guilt-trip me over a party, doctor Banner?" I teased him, expecting the smile that I felt being hidden by my hair. Sometimes I felt that I could read the man like an open book, he was so earnest about his interactions.

"I just - we want you to stay safe, okay? Don't blow your future for a little bit of fun," He shrugged carefully.

"Okay, Bruce," I simply replied, meaning it this time

He kept hugging me, running his hand over my back absentmindedly. Probably thinking about his recent science bender. I wasn't upset: my own brain tended to get tangled in personal projects, too. I had only one complaint and it was that the cuddle was making me sleepy.

I yawned, startling the man. Pulling away from the hug wasn't really an option. He was broad and quite strong, probably courtesy of the Hulk and radiation in his blood.

"Why don't we put you in a guest room for tonight?" He inquired and I nodded. "Call your parents for me, okay?"

"My mother is in Vancouver for the week and I doubt she would care anyway," I rolled my eyes. "She's in the middle of some shitstorm with OsCorp and their marketing department." If anything, I was grateful my mother was preoccupied with her job. Being around her was like hanging out on top of an iceberg in the far end of the ocean.

I felt Bruce's frown. His body tensed briefly, blink and you'll miss the hunch of his shoulders. "What about your dad?"

I cringed. "He's been in Ibiza since the season opened, no doubt snorting miles of coke and... " I hesitated. "You can guess the rest."

My dad was kind of a dick, but I don't blame him at all for being the way he is. My parents have been married for twenty years. They were happy, once - I saw their college pictures with my mother's bright smiles and bushy hair, and my dad's terrible fashion sense and their dog, a funny little runt with an atrocious name. Then mother had me and for a while, they were happy too, but it lasted about until she landed her first prospective job. Kind of cliché.

Bruce sighed again. "Okay. You hungry?"

"No, I'm not going near food until tomorrow. Nu-uh," I fake-retched next to his ear, making Bruce shiver and playfully pinch my side.

"It'll help with your hangover. Doctor's advice."

"You're not even that kind of doctor," I laughed, very gently poking him back, somewhere around his stomach. He squirmed.

"I have seven PhDs," Bruce smiled as he rested his chin on top of my head as he adjusted his torso to prevent my fingers from reaching his ticklish spots. I poked him again in retaliation, fully enjoying the snort and squirm I caused. Soft™. "Let's go get you settled in," Bruce, seemingly without any difficulty, picked me up, propping me against his hip like a toddler. It probably looked awkward but what the hell, I haven't been carried around since I can remember myself. My legs wrapped around his hips for balance, butt resting on his forearm.

"You're a showoff," I couldn't help but snort, getting a lopsided smirk in return.

He made his way over to the elevator with me dangling and examining my nails in an expectant fashion. Tony's jokes aside, I really enjoyed getting them done and weird colors were a quest of entertainment for me. I obviously couldn't have them very long because I worked in a lab so I chose outrageous prints and decorations instead. This week, each of my nails had a different style - thankfully my aesthetician was professional enough to make it look somewhat put together even if it took a good chunk of my allowance and an hour long Uber ride to get to her salon.

I noticed the dimmed lights in Tony's lab and none of Peter's usual mess scattered on the tables, figuring he'd already left. Stark himself stood propped against a table, watching something, smoothie in hand.

For only a brief moment, I let my eyes rake over his body, his beautiful, sculpted physique hugged by a pair of fitted jeans and an old Led Zeppelin tee. Tony's handsomeness wasn't obvious, it wasn't in-your-face kind of appearance like Captain America's, but the engineer was built sturdy and his arms - the only bare part of him - were riddled with scars. He used his strong, bulky body for work.

I turned away before I got too ahead of myself. Bruce smelled like lab equipment and rubbing alcohol, something that made me sober up and snap out of my daydream before Stark took notice and started teasing me about ogling him. My once-over lasted barely three seconds yet with Tony's genius, I always had to be on my toes.

I saw movement in my peripheral. Banner waved before entering the elevator - at Tony, probably, so I looked back, seeing the man watching us, content replaced with a contemplating frown. I waved at him, resting my cheek on Bruce's shoulder. "Tony's having a big mood," I noted quietly in the scientist's ear.

"You know Tony," Bruce sighed, adjusting his hold on me as the car ascended to the housing floors. "His brain runs a mile a minute and he can't make sense of it for the biggest part. Give him some time and he'll be back to his annoying self."

I didn't see Tony as annoying in any way, but then again, I was severely biased. The billionaire was quirky venturing into absurd but also clever and brilliant.

We had reached our destination and Bruce carefully set me down on my feet once the door to my room was open. A large queen bed, TV and another door to an adjacent bathroom. It was really simple but luxurious nonetheless - I had the exact same carpet at home, having heard my mother bitch about it's cost after seeing me spill soda on it way too many times.

"I'll let you get settled in. Ask Friday if you need something," Bruce awkwardly shuffled his feet, taking off his glasses and briefly examining them before putting them back on again. "Breakfast here is on the 74th floor starting around 7AM, someone will probably get you around nine if you sleep in," He finished, giving a shy tilt of his lips.

"Thanks, Brucie-bear," The nickname easily slipped from my lips. I didn't resist the urge to hug the kind scientist, quickly wrapping my arms around his middle, delightfully sighing when he immediately returned the gesture.

"Good night, Princess," I had to suppress a happy squeak when the man kissed my forehead before retreating and closing the door behind himself. A quick shower and a quest to find a power outlet to plug my charger into preceded my less than graceful flop into the bed. It felt like sleeping on a cloud, honestly, it had nothing on my mother's orthopaedic memory foam mattresses. I passed out faster than I’d ever had.

#Bun writes #party favours #Tony Stark x y/n #Tony Stark x reader #Bruce Banner x reader #Bruce Banner x y/n #Stephen Strange x reader #Stephen Strange x y/n #We're going to Hell y'all

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supernatural-jackles · 4 years

Text

The Man on the Side of the Road - Part 8

Title: The Man on the Side of the Road - Part 8

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 4,932

Warnings: Minor Angst, Lots of Fluff, Playing with their hair, did I mention Fluff?

Summary: Driving down the road, going well over the speed limit. You come across a man walking in the opposite direction with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. His head cast down as he walked. Your gut instinct is telling you to check on this man, no matter what your parents told you growing up. Little did you know just how much this would change your life.

The Man on the Side of the Road - Masterlist

Square Filled: Bed Sharing ( @spngenrebingo)

A/N: I think y’all are going to like this one! Lots of fluff to make up for the angsty last part! As always, feedback is incredibly appreciated ( seriously thank you for it!) Happy reading!!

“Alright, beef jerky?” Dean called out from the list he had in his hand.

“Check,” you shouted back.

“Potato chips?”

“Got it.”

“And finally, my best friend?” he smiled widely, looking over the top of the car to see you. You shook your head with a wide smile.

“I’m right here, dork,” you giggled. “I think we’re road trip ready, don’t you? I didn’t get up at six in the morning for nothing, Dean.”

“I think we’re ready too,” he nodded. “We’ve got a long road ahead of us today. We’re stopping later tonight. We’re staying in a cheap motel and we’ll be back on the road in the morning.”

“I like that plan,” you stated. “Let’s get this show on the road shall we?”

You and Dean were on the open road within minutes. All the doors to your home were locked. You had your security system triple checked. No one knew you were leaving town but Bobby, and he was going to check on your house every day. He was more than happy to let Dean have the week off to go with you on the road trip. You both needed it. You needed to have that breath of fresh air. You needed to get away from everything for a little while.

Since the night you had a full on breakdown, you and Dean had been closer than ever. You felt so much closer to him and it was a strange feeling for you. You never felt that way with Ketch. Not even in the beginning when everything was so fresh and new. You never felt like you fully knew who he was and what he was about. You knew things about Dean that no one knew. You shared things with him that you had never shared with anyone. It made you wonder if it was weird for him too. If he liked how close you had grown in the time you knew each other.

“I’m feeling pizza for dinner,” Dean brought up about an hour into the drive.

“I could go for some pizza,” you nodded. “With everything on it.”

“Everything?” he cocked his eyebrow. “Now you are definitely my kind of girl.”

“Speaking of girl,” you licked your bottom lip. You had to know. “When are you going to ask that girl out? You know, the one you told me about?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I don’t really know if I’m going to. Yeah, it’d be great to put myself out there again and all. I have no idea if she even likes me back, or if she’d ever go out with me in the first place. I don’t want to push myself back with all the progress I’ve made so far.”

“That’s a good point,” you nodded. “But you’re going to have to put yourself out there sometime. The girl isn’t going to wait forever if she does like you back. As soon as she thinks you’ve lost interest, she’ll move on. I know you said you’re not a long term kind of guy but it could be worth a shot.”

“I’m not. But I don’t know, maybe this time I should give it a try. I’m older now. The sounds of settling down don’t scare me nearly as much as they used to. I guess I have you to thank for that one.”

“Why me?”

“Because of the whole you thought you were pregnant,” he said nonchalantly. “The idea of having a kid of your own, and starting a family with someone sounds a lot better than it did years ago. But I want what you said. Two parents that love each other to raise the baby.”

“Sounds to me like you want a future,” you pointed out.

“Yeah. I do,” he agreed. “Something more, you know?”

“I say take a chance,” you breathed out. “You never know what could happen. Besides, I know you. Any girl would be lucky to be with you.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” he smiled. “What about you? I know you haven’t really been single for all that long, but have you considered putting yourself out there?”

“The more I think about it, I’ve been by myself for a lot longer. After all, Ketch and Jo have been fooling around for two years behind my back. We weren’t like most couples. People wouldn’t say oh you guys are so cute together and that shit. Ketch was and has always been closed off. He wasn’t open with me the same way I was him. We didn’t have a good solid relationship when I think about the kind of relationship I want to pursue in the future. It wasn’t even about sex for me. And to be honest, Ketch and I didn’t really sleep together all that often the more I think about it. Our last few months before our wedding was probably the most we were together. Probably because of Jo. As much as there was wrong with our relationship, I know it won’t be the same with someone else. I know that I’ll meet someone and things will just click,” you paused. “I’ll be able to have sex with the lights on, and I’ll be able to say no when I’m not in the mood and have him respect me. I’ll be able to cry and he won’t freak out, and I’ll be able to make him laugh when he needs it. I was so afraid of so many things when I was with Ketch, because I knew he’d leave me, and I didn’t want my mom to say the horrible things that she already has to me. I’ve accepted now that I’m never going to be good enough for her and I don’t care that I’m not. I would much rather be with someone who loved me for who I am. Someone who doesn’t care that I don’t get along with her and understands why. I don’t want that same unrealistic expectations the next time around.”

“Your mom really shouldn’t matter all that much anyways. No offense but she’s a bitch,” he chuckled.

“You’re not wrong about that one,” you let out a laugh. “Someday I’ll put myself out there again. I just want to be one hundred percent sure that I know the person I’m going for this time around. Someone that doesn’t have hidden agendas, or girls he likes to fuck behind my back.”

“Can I ask you who this Jo chick is?” he cocked his eyebrow, looking over at you for a split second.

“Jo Harvelle -”

“You have to be fucking kidding me,” he said loudly.

“Oh god, you know her too?” your jaw dropped.

“Yeah, I do. Quite well actually,” he stated. “When I was growing up, my dad brought me around the garage a lot so he could show me the ropes of a car. At the time, my Uncle Bobby was dating her mom so Jo was around quite a bit in the summertime. Her mom and Bobby didn’t last too long thankfully. Bobby met a really nice woman and he’s been with her for ten years, I want to say. When school started back up again, Jo thought we were friends and it stayed like that for awhile. It was fine for the most part. Awkward at best. When we were in high school, she made it known that she had a crush on me. Flirting in the hallway. Trying to sit with me at lunch. She forced herself on me at a party after she had too much to drink, and I had to leave. She and Ketch were pretty close in high school too from what I remember. Which is why I couldn’t understand why she was chasing after me. She’s younger, and I saw her like a kid sister. She was always looking for male attention.”

“Figures. She slept around a lot when we were friends. I thought it was her way of dealing with things after her mom died. Everytime we went out, she took someone home. Never thought it would be my at the time fiancee,” you told him. “The more I think about everything that’s happened over time, the more I wish I had realized what was going on. I wish I would have picked up on how poorly Ketch treated me, and done something about it. I wish I would have realized that Jo wasn’t really a friend to me. I wish I would have paid more attention, and knew my worth more than I did.”

“But you know it now, and you’re not in the situation with either of them anymore,” he reminded you. “You have me looking out for you now, and I’m not going to let you go through something like that again. And, I’m not going to steal your boyfriend either.”

“Haha!” you giggled. “Funny!”

“It was a little funny,” he smirked. “I mean it though. I’ve got your back, if you decide you want to try again with someone else. You seem to be doing much better since our talk last week.”

“I feel a lot better since we talked,” you admitted. “It’s hard for me to open up, I know that. I never wanted to be too much for you either. You are already going through so much as it is. Talking to you is easy. I like talking to you about everything. The big things. The little things too. You give me a sense of home.”

“You can always talk to me,” he assured you.

It wasn’t too long after that when your eyes began to grow tired. You knew that if you rested on the door, you’d feel every bump. You decided to take a chance. After all, you and Dean were close. You wouldn’t be able to sleep otherwise. He was a safe driver and the backseat was free for the most part.

“I’m going to see if I can get some sleep,” you yawned. “You mind if I crawl in the back?”

“If you want,” he nodded. “Or you can rest your head in my lap. My leg might be a little more comfortable than the bags back there.”

“You wouldn’t mind?”

“Nah. I’d rather you be comfortable,” he smiled. “‘Sides, I’ll play with your hair every once in a while. Help you relax.”

“Do you want to marry me?” you joked.

“In a heartbeat,” he winked. “I’ll change routes to Vegas.”

“It’d be the best wedding ever,” you giggled.

“Get some sleep, sweetheart. I’ll keep you safe.”

__________________________

You had no idea how long you were asleep for. What you woke up to was Dean running his fingers through your hair as he hummed along with the quiet radio. You couldn’t help but smile. You were more than content with your life at that moment. It made you wonder if there was a chance that you and Dean could be something more. More than roommates and friends. You got along well, and you had a good chemistry between the two of you. You could see yourself with someone like him. The real question was, could he see himself with someone like you? Did he like you in the same way you liked him?

You shifted in his lap, adjusting yourself a little. Dean still continued to run his fingers through the locks of your hair. It made you wonder if he liked it just as much as you did. If he would be okay with you doing the same to him.

“Sweetheart, are you awake?” Dean asked softly.

“Maybe,” you chuckled. “You need something?”

“I’m going to pull over at the next gas station. We need gas, and I’m probably going to pee myself if we wait any longer,” he admitted.

“Okay. How long was I asleep?” you asked him, yawning in the process.

“About three hours,” he revealed.

“Oh my god. I’m sorry!” you breathed out.

“Don’t worry about it. You’re a pretty sound sleeper. I’d rather you rest,” he half smiled.

“Thank you for letting me sleep in your lap, and for playing with my hair,” you told him.

“You won’t be thanking me when you see what your hair looks like,” he let out a laugh. You sat up instantly, looking in the rearview mirror. Some of your hair was sticking up a little. Nothing you couldn’t fix. You’d much rather his hand in your hair anyways. It was the most comforting feeling.

“I think this is a good look for me,” you giggled. “Why don’t I drive after our pit stop? Give you a chance to nap.”

“Yeah okay,” he nodded. “I trust you enough to drive my car.”

“Gee thanks,” you shook your head with a side smile.

Dean stopped at the closest gas and sip. He pumped the gas first before heading in to use the bathroom. You sat in the car, checking your phone to see how much further along you were until you arrived to Sam. It was still a long drive, and you wouldn’t be there until tomorrow night at the earliest. You knew all the travel was going to knock you out.

Dean came out of the gas and sip with a paper bag in his hand. You wondered just what he could have picked up in there when you had a lot of stuff in the car already. You slid over to the drivers side, allowing Dean to sit in the passengers.

“Alright, I’m hungry so I picked up a little something from the diner they had in there. I’ve got fries, pie, and two burgers. Figured you’d be hungry too.”

“Thanks Dean,” you smiled. “I am actually. It’s going to be a while on the road. We’re not pulling over until eight if we’re going to get there by tomorrow.”

You were on the road, eating your burgers and fries. Dean gave you a couple of bites of his pecan pie, feeding it to you from the fork while you drove. Eventually, he decided he was going to shut his eyes for a little while. That’s when you offered your lap for him to sleep this time. You took the chance to run your fingers through his hair, just like he did you.

Being on the open road with nothing but the soft sounds of one of his cassette tapes playing, and his head in your lap, gave you a lot of time to think about everything. Dean had been a part of your life for a little over two months now. The more you thought about it, the more you realized that time had flown by. Dean was a big part of your life, and you wanted him to be an even bigger part of your life. You wanted to wake up next to him everyday. He was the one you looked forward to coming home to, and spending time with. He saw sides of you that no one else saw. The sides you didn’t want anyone else to see. You just wondered if he saw you as more than a friend. If he ever could see you as someone he wanted to be with.

You knew more about him than a lot of people did. At least, you liked to think you did. Dean clearly didn’t share a whole lot, and he shared quite a bit with you when he became more comfortable with you. You knew he didn’t have many people in his life, and if he did, they clearly didn’t stick around long enough. You couldn’t quite understand why. Dean was easy to get along with, and he made damn sure he was there when someone he cared about needed him. Dean had been there for you more times than you could count. Maybe it was the same for everyone else, and they just never did the same for him. You had no idea what happened between him and his brother. You just hoped they could fix things on this trip.

“You’re comfortable,” Dean muttered, making you laugh.

“Thanks, Dean.”

“How long was I asleep?” he asked.

“Two hours or so,” you answered.

“Sweet,” he yawned, sitting up from your lap. He rubbed at his eyes a little, trying to wipe away the sleep. You had about an hour left to go before you were in Boulder. “You tired of driving yet?”

“Eh. It’s only three in the afternoon. If you want me to drive further, I can. The sooner we get to Sam, the better, right?”

“Yeah that’s true. I’ll let you drive for a couple more hours, then we’ll switch. Whenever you want to switch let me know,” he offered.

“Yeah I will.”

It was just after eight thirty when you pulled into the parking lot of a motel. If your mother could see you and where you were staying for the night, she would throw a fit. She wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this. It almost made you smile to think about it. It reminded you of how much you weren’t like her. How different you were was one of the things you were proud of. This didn’t bother you one bit and that was because you were doing this with someone you deeply cared about.

Dean had gotten the key to the room while you ran to grab something to eat for dinner from the restaurant across the street. You managed to grab a pizza with a bunch of toppings like you talked about earlier, and some drinks. Dean was waiting for you outside the room with the keys in his hand.

The room wasn’t anything special. For eighty five dollars a night, it wasn’t the worst. There was only one bed and it was pretty small for a queen. If anything, it looked like a double. Not that it mattered all that much. You and Dean had shared a bed a few times before. It was nothing new. You were just going to be a little closer than you were at home. You were going to have to be more respectful of his space.

“When I was growing up, my dad liked to take me and my brother on road trips like this. Time for us to spend together. Since we lost our mom so young, he knew it was important to spend time together. Granted, my dad and my brother never saw eye to eye. I always had to share a bed with one of them, because they refused to look at each other until we moved on from wherever we were. But this just reminds me of those good times growing up. I’ve never really had anyone to do something like this with.”

“I know you said you’re not big on commitment, but did you ever have a girlfriend that you did little road trips with?” you asked.

“Nah, we stayed in town. The girls I’ve been with weren’t into seedy motel rooms and long trips in the car,” he shrugged. “What about you and douchewad?”

“Once thankfully,” you chuckled. “Spring break, freshman year of college. He thought it would be a good idea to head down to Miami. He also thought it would be a good idea to have six shots of tequila with no chaser and he passed out. He refused to go to the beach because he hated sand and he would only eat out of five star restaurants. On spring break, you would be lucky to find one. He complained the entire time that he was going to get an infection or disease. He wouldn’t be caught dead in a motel like this. He and my mother were more alike in that way.”

“And stuff like this motel room doesn’t bug you?” he furrowed his brows.

“No. Not really,” you shook your head. “I’ve never been that kind of girl. But if I see one bug, be prepared for me to freak out. I don’t do bugs of any kind.”

“Okay,” he smiled. “I have to say. I’m really happy you’re not with Ketch anymore. I don’t think you would have lived your life to the fullest if you married him.”

“Me either. I certainly wouldn’t have done any road trips like this. Or been allowed to talk to you. As upset as I was when I found out about him and Jo, and everything that happened. It’s given me a lot of perspective on what I deserve, and how poorly I was treated. The next time I date, I’m going to make sure its someone who isn’t a bag of dicks.”

“Good,” he smiled. “You look happier.”

The pizza was finished quickly. Both of you were pretty hungry, and you were actually surprised you could eat that amount. You both showered and brushed your teeth. You knew you had to get to sleep early. Especially if you were leaving in the morning, and early at that. You and Dean wanted to be at Stanford by tomorrow night, and that meant at least another thirteen hours of driving.

You climbed into bed first, adjusting the covers. Dean was out of the bathroom, wearing a fitted t-shirt and a pair of black boxers. You couldn’t help but stare at him a little longer than usual. You found yourself doing that lately. It wasn’t just when he was in his boxers. It was anytime. When he was helping you make dinner, or when he walked in the room.

He crawled into the small bed, settling next to you. It was just after ten and you knew you had to get to sleep soon or else you’d be grumpy come the morning. Not that you weren’t going to be anyways.

“This bed is super lumpy,” you chuckled.

“Tell me about it. I think my car would have been more comfortable,” he scoffed.

“Your car is more comfortable,” you pointed out. “Let’s just make the best of this. Tomorrow, we can get a nice hotel room with a hot tub and we’ll forget all about this room.”

“Good plan,” he let out a laugh. “G’night sweetheart.”

“Night handsome.”

Your body slowly began to wake. You could feel the light in the room, and you knew then you had to get up within the next couple of minutes. You nuzzled into the pillow a little more, only to find it a little harder than you remembered the night before. Your eyes shot wide open, realizing that you were no longer sleeping on your pillow, but on Dean’s chest. Your arm wrapped around his middle. No wonder you felt well rested. You fell asleep on your best friend.

He slowly began to stir beneath you, and you knew there was no way you were getting away with this one. He was going to find out either way. You may as well take the punishment for what it was. You enjoyed it, hell more than you should. You weren’t going to deny yourself that, not after everything you’ve been through.

“Sweetheart, you awake?” his deep, gruff voice muttered. That’s when you noticed it. His hand on the small of your back. His thumb rubbing circles on your spine. If he was uncomfortable, he certainly didn’t show it.

“Hmm, yeah,” you yawned. “Time to get ready?”

“Yeah. Long day ahead of us,” he reminded you. “Should arrive there tonight.”

“Hot tub,” you chuckled.

“Non lumpy bed. Although you seem to be pretty comfortable,” he teased.

“I didn’t keep you up, did I?”

“Nah,” he let out a little laugh, tightening his grip on you. “Bed was small anyways.”

“Definitely not a queen,” you stated. “We better get out of here. We’ll grab some breakfast on the road.”

“Sounds good.”

You were up and out of the motel room within fifteen minutes. Both of you had a coffee and a breakfast sandwich, ready to take on another long day of driving. Dean decided to take the first driving shift. You searched through his cassette tapes to find something different to listen to, but also something of his standards. You could only play certain things in his car.

Your mind was constantly on the fact that you had somehow fallen asleep cuddling him. He didn’t make a big deal out of it, but to you it was. This was Dean, your best friend Dean. The man you had strong feelings for, Dean. It felt so great to cuddle with him the way you did. It was great to feel safe in his hold, and to just be cuddled. It reminded you a lot of what you didn’t have with Ketch. He hated cuddling, especially at night. He slept as far away from you as possible on the nights you did share a bed. It was probably one of the many reasons why he didn’t want to live together until marriage. Personal issues, as he called it.

“What’s on your mind, pretty girl?” he asked after about an hour on the road. You turned to look at him with a soft smile. His eyes were softer than usual as he looked at you.

“Oh you know, stuff,” you teased, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Spill it,” he chuckled.

“Last night, I didn’t make you uncomfortable, or cross any lines, did I?” you questioned. Worry was evident in your voice.

“No. You didn’t,” he shook his head with a smirk. “I’m actually surprised it hasn’t happened before.”

“Why do you say that?” you asked curiously.

“Because you’re a really affectionate person, and you crave that very same affection back,” he pointed out. “You like it when I play with your hair, and squeeze you tightly when I hug you. You played with my hair for awhile yesterday. Since the first day I met you, you’ve been touchy and you probably didn’t even realize you were. You helped me get across the road, you hugged me tightly, you rubbed between my shoulders. You’re an affectionate person, and you shouldn’t have to hold back. I don’t mind cuddling, or hugs. Even when you kissed me on the cheek, it wasn’t weird. I accept you for who you are, Y/N.”

“You know you’ve basically just given me permission right?” you giggled. Dean let out a laugh, shaking his head.

“I know. I’m cool with it,” he assured you. “I like cuddling too.”

The day was spent the same as the previous day. One of you napped while the other drove. You stopped for lunch and a few bathroom breaks. You talked about little things that were insignificant to some, but not to you. You learned his favourite kinds of pie, and his favourite colour. You learned that he had his first kiss at sixteen and that he knew how to play the guitar. The little things that were common knowledge. You mostly wanted to know the things that only a best friend would know. He learned the very same about you.

You played a couple of games. One on your phone that was much like twenty questions, but this was a list of about one hundred. Some were completely random, others were strange. Either way, it killed about four hours.

“We’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” you told him. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Hopefully he’ll want to see me.”

“At the end of the day, you’re his brother. He’d be crazy not to,” you reminded him.

“Where would I be without you?” he chuckled.

“Do you really want me to answer that?” you shook your head with a smirk. “We’re getting chicken for dinner tonight, just so you know.”

“Fine by me,” he smiled. “I could go for some too.”

“And pie,” you added in. “Need pie.”

You pulled into the apartment complex that Dean had pointed to. This was the last known address he had for Sam. If he didn’t live there, then someone had to know where so you could look next. You parked the car, cutting the ignition. You could tell Dean was nervous, but excited at the same time. He didn’t want his brother to turn him away.

His brother's apartment was on the third floor. Room fourteen. Dean glanced up at the building, taking a deep breath. You smiled at him, slipping your hand into his for reassurance. You knew he wasn’t going to move unless you forced him to. You were a little nervous yourself. You were meeting his brother for the first time. It was the only real family he had. Bobby wasn’t his blood, technically. You wondered if Sam looked like his older brother, or if he looked more like one parent and Dean looked like the other. Either way, you were going to find out.

“Here we are,” he breathed out, releasing your hand.

“You’ve got this,” you reassured him. “Time to see your brother.”

Dean raised his hand, knocking three times on the door before taking a step back. You placed your hand between his shoulders, much like you had done before. You could hear a little commotion going on from behind the door, which meant someone was definitely home.

The door unlocked, and opened up just a little. You swallowed hard, suddenly growing a little nervous yourself. You took a step back behind Dean, knowing you’d have him to protect you, in case Sam wasn’t the one living there anymore and it was some big drunk dude.

“Dean?” a voice called out from the doorway. You glanced up to find a taller man with longer brown hair. His brows were furrowed, and he was more surprised than anything. That had to be his brother.

“Hiya Sammy.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 9 coming Tuesday!

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